#shes like “its not supposed to do that”

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Unexpected Gift | LN4

. ݁☃︎⋆⁺₊❅. summary ━━━━━━━ Lando surprises Y/N with a very special gift, and she realizes just how much he values their relationship.

. ݁☃︎⋆⁺₊❅. pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

. ݁☃︎⋆⁺₊❅. word count ━━━━━━━ 1.6k

The city of London buzzed with its usual holiday energy. Crowds filled the streets, rushing to buy last-minute gifts, as festive lights twinkled above the sidewalks. The atmosphere was alive with the enticing smell of chestnuts roasting, combined with the crispness of pine and the comforting essence of cinnamon—scents that typically brought joy to Y/N’s heart. But this year, the season felt different—hollow, even.

It was December 23rd, and Y/N sat in her cozy West London flat, hands cradling a steaming cup of coffee as she gazed out at the overcast sky. The grey December sky mirrored the heaviness in her chest. She had told herself countless times over the past few weeks that it would be okay. That spending Christmas alone wouldn’t be so bad. Work had kept her in London this year, far from her family, who would be celebrating together in her homeland. But the real sting came from something—or rather, someone—closer to home.

Lando.

They’d been together for just over two months. It was still new, but it felt significant. They’d spent so much time together, sharing laughter, teasing over her love for cats and his unwavering loyalty to dogs, and indulging in cozy evenings that stretched late into the night. She thought they were building something special, something that might have included an invitation to spend Christmas together. But as the days ticked by, there was no mention of Bristol, no invitation to join him and his family.

“Maybe it’s too soon,” she whispered to herself, taking a sip of her coffee. She wanted to believe that. Meeting his family would be a big step, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it. But still, the absence of his offer lingered like a cloud, heavy and persistent.

She glanced at the empty couch beside her. It felt emptier than usual. They’d joked about adopting a cat before—her longing for one and his insistence that dogs were far superior. She could almost hear his voice now, playful and teasing: “Cats are just judgmental roommates. Dogs? They’re your best friends.”

Despite her smile at the memory, the ache in her chest remained. This time last year, she’d shared with Lando how much she missed having a pet. Growing up, she’d always been surrounded by cats, and the absence of a furry companion in London made her flat feel even lonelier.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. She leaned over to pick it up, her heart skipping when she saw Lando’s name on the screen.

Lando: “Hope you’re doing okay. Missing you here in Bristol. Can’t wait to see you when I’m back in London after the holidays. x”

Y/n stared at the message from Lando for what felt like an eternity before finally typing a reply.

Y/n: "I'm fine. Just missing you too. Have a good time with your family."

She hit send and set her phone down, the ache in her chest growing sharper with every passing moment. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand why he hadn’t invited her to join him—she could respect the fact that they had only been together for a couple of months, and it was clear he had his family traditions. Still, the loneliness was heavy. Christmas was supposed to be a time of togetherness, but here she was, alone in her flat.

Her fingers brushed her phone screen as she picked it up again, smiling faintly at the sweet message he’d sent. He was always thoughtful, checking in even though he was surrounded by family. But it didn’t fill the emptiness she felt. Not entirely.

With a sigh, Y/n set the phone back down and reached for her mug of tea. Just a few more days, she told herself. Then maybe things would start to feel a little less empty.

Meanwhile, in Bristol, Lando was wrapping up a festive morning spent with his family. The house was filled with laughter and holiday cheer, but his mind kept drifting to London. It had been a whirlwind of excitement leading up to this moment, and now, the time had finally come.

For weeks, Lando had been carefully planning the perfect gift. Their playful debates about cats versus dogs always ended with him teasing her for being a "cat person," but he knew just how much she truly adored them. Every time they passed a shop with a cat lounging in the window, her face would light up, and he could see the longing in her eyes. She had never adopted a cat since moving to London, and Lando knew it was something she missed dearly. Determined to make this Christmas special, he was resolved to bring her the joy she’d been longing for.

Lando wanted to invite her for Christmas, but he hesitated, fearing she might refuse because she wasn’t ready to meet his parents. Not wanting to pressure her or make things feel too serious too soon, he decided instead to plan a different surprise. He’d contacted a shelter in London and arranged everything for the adoption of a small, ginger tabby. He knew it was the perfect gift for her, something that would bring her joy and comfort.

He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she met the cat. The thought of her eyes lighting up was enough to make his heart race as he finished packing his bag. The rest of the holiday could wait. This moment was going to be about her.

On Christmas Eve, after saying goodbye to his family, Lando set out for London. The drive felt longer than usual as he imagined Y/n’s reaction. The roads were clear, and the car hummed steadily beneath him, but his mind was a whirlwind of anticipation.

By the time he arrived at Y/n’s flat in London, the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky. Lando took a deep breath before grabbing the cat carrier from the backseat, his heart beating fast in his chest. He knocked gently on her door, not quite sure what to expect, but knowing that this moment would mean everything to her.

The door opened, and there she stood—Y/n, looking soft and surprised to see him.

“Lando?” she asked, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and confusion. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be with your family for Christmas.”

Lando smiled, stepping inside, the carrier gently in his hands. “I was. But I couldn’t wait any longer to see you. I have something for you.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Lando…”

He didn’t say a word. Instead, he crouched down and slowly opened the carrier. A small, ginger tabby with striking green eyes stepped out, its fur soft and smooth.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she gazed at the cat. “Is this… for me?”

Lando nodded, his gaze warm. “I know how much you’ve wanted a cat. So I thought, maybe this Christmas, I could help make that happen.”

Tears welled in Y/n’s eyes as she knelt down to pet the cat, her fingers trembling with emotion. “Lando, I… I don’t know what to say. She’s perfect.”

Lando smiled gently, his heart swelling with affection. “I thought you’d like her. Her name is Ruby, by the way,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “I thought she looked like a Ruby.”

Y/n’s voice cracked as she looked up at him, her eyes glistening. “You’re… incredible. I can’t believe you did this.”

Lando stood, moving closer to her, his hands cupping her face softly. “I wanted to do something special for you. I know this time of year can be tough, especially with you being so far from your family. But you don’t have to be alone, Y/n. Not anymore.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she whispered, “I’ve been feeling so alone lately… and you didn’t even invite me to spend Christmas with you and your family…”

Lando’s heart broke as he pulled her into his arms. “I didn’t invite you because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. It was too soon, and I didn’t want to make things complicated. But I’ve been thinking about you, about us. I knew, more than anything, I wanted to be with you this Christmas. It just… took me a little longer to figure out how.”

Y/n clung to him, feeling the weight of her emotions. “I thought maybe you didn’t want me there… but now, with this… with Ruby…” Her voice faltered as she held the cat close to her chest. “Thank you. I didn’t think I’d ever get a cat, but now… I have Ruby, and I have you.”

Lando brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his voice tender. “You have me, Y/n. Always.”

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms, the quiet comfort of the moment filling the space between them. The Christmas lights outside twinkled softly, but the warmth they shared was all that mattered.

That night, they sat together on the couch, the cat curled up between them as they sipped wine and exchanged stories. Lando had stayed in London with her, and while it wasn’t the Christmas Y/n had expected, it turned out to be exactly what she needed. A Christmas filled with love, surprises, and the promise of more to come.

As they shared a soft kiss under the glow of the tree, Y/n felt a profound sense of belonging. This was home.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n,” Lando whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.

“Merry Christmas, Lando,” she replied, her heart full.

And for the first time in a long time, Christmas felt just right.

[tulipq]

No one ever states the whole concept of the ship of Theseus. This shit is too fucking long winded. I hope you are all ready for this shit. At least I will use text you can copy paste around!

The full problem with the ship of Theseus is meant to be like a koan that gives you an insight into the unstable nature of identity. That's how I read it. I just wanted to state my current conclusion first, because you can't refute me if you don't know where I am going with this.

My answer is that neither is the original ship. The ship ceased to be itself in the original sense every moment and is actually "close enough to be felt the same by humans at the time" instead of being itself. Identity is unstable. A does not equal A because the notion of A is as a flickering flame in the eyes of its beholder.

Anyway, I am going to cheat in order to make things in a certain way. I will make it clear when this is cheating and not just clever storytelling.

We witness:

A boat maker, and he makes a boat. He also travels with the boat and he keeps replacing parts along the way because wooden boats are like this. He has a little barge or something that he stores all of the cast off part of the boat.

Suppose he is the last original crew member to die. He and his complete boat of boat parts get taken to the cemetery where all of the other original crew members.

Then Persephone notices she has the complete set of one of her favorite little adventuring groups that the muses sing about. She gives them all new lives and even magics the boat parts to be young and unworked material because fuck you this is a greek philosophy parable, I have decided to fuck with how time works. You can tell a version where that does not happen in your response.

Then the ship builder makes the ship parts into the original shape of the ship.

This is completed just as the current crew of the ship, the builder's body road to the graveyard in shows up to bury someone who was not part of the crew when it first departed.

Which ship is the original ship which the builder made? Is it the one with the builder, the crew, and the material that first left in the very same condition as when they left, or is it the one which has experienced all of the changes that happened since it first departed?

If the builder says he believes for sure the answer opposite yours, do you care about that? I do not.

[personapeters]

✰ 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭-𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

— frat boyfriend rafe if he turned to college instead of crime (lol)

rating: sfw — cw: a little suggestive, language

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… during the day wears his regular rich boy attire: a polo, fitted shorts, and sneakers worth more than a semesters tuition. after hours, you’ll find him casually dressed in a university branded tee that hugged his biceps oh-so perfectly, gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a backwards snapback that held his long hair out of his face — perfection.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… is supposed to wear glasses but rarely does, saying they make him look like ‘a fucking geek’. eventually, he became comfortable enough to wear them around you and only you in the privacy of your dorm, and you’d tease him about how he’s the hottest ‘geek’ you’ve ever seen.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… never lets you walk back to your dorm alone, no matter the time or circumstance. whether it be broad daylight or the middle of the night, he makes zero exceptions — he’s seen the way some of the guys interacted with the girls on campus and he’ll burn the place down before it happens to you.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… isn’t really fond of coffee unless its fully black, but occasionally brings you your favorite cream filled and sugar loaded latte when you have an early morning class, loving how much sweeter it makes your mouth taste.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… begrudgingly walks (practically drags) your drunk friends back to their dorms whenever you ask him to, though he couldn’t care less how they got home. as terrible as it sounds, he only does it for you.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… enjoys to show you off to his frat brothers but simultaneously hates when they look at you. it didn’t make sense, and he was well aware of that, but it’s true — in a ‘look how hot my girl is’ yet a ‘she’s mine, don’t look at her’ way.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… met you at the campus library, as cliche as it is. he was only there to make quick deal outside, but when he spotted you through a window as your fingers grazed the spines of the books on the shelf, he knew he had to go inside.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… loves when you wear his university branded t-shirts and hoodies, loving how they swallow you whole as your sleeping gowns or when you roll them up, paired with leggings: “fuck, keep that one — looks so fuckin’ good on you.”

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… insists on covering any and every cost that your scholarships don’t and more; books, supplies, dorm furniture, food, clothes, gas, fees, whatever. of course, you were bewildered as to how a college student had enough money to fund someone else’s life, let alone their own, but once you learned the entirety of his lengthy backstory, it all made plenty of sense.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… has gotten into his fair share of fights over you, feeling it’s mandatory that everyone on campus knows who’s girl you are and what happens when they challenge that. let it be a suggestive comment or a lingering touch, rafe’s always quick to set shit straight. typically, that type of behavior would result in expulsion, but with the cameron family’s high status and money, rafe was never actually punished for anything.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… only made it into the same university as you due to his wealth. sure, he was smart but wouldn’t have made it in without his monetary advantage. he’d often get angry and frustrated whenever doing work he simply couldn’t master, but you were like his personal tutor, reassuring him that he can, he just needs to take the time and study (with your help, of course).

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… has your schedule memorized, often casually leaning outside of your classroom with his arms crossed over his chest as he waits for you to emerge so he can shamelessly perform some p.d.a. before escorting you to your next location.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… once brought you to visit his home town on a break, the outer banks, taking you to all of his favorite spots and, hesitantly, introducing you to his close friends and family. he even explained the whole ‘pogues vs kooks’ thing, emphasizing his distaste for the latter — you honestly thought it was insane: “y’know… if i grew up here, i’d’ve been a ‘pogue’, too,” you reasoned. “yeah, well, you didn’t,” he stated stoically.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… only went to college with the plan to build his credentials, promising his father he’d soon join in on running the family business. his father was impressed to hear that, saying, “really? wow… m’proud of you, son,” hugging him firmly in a way he seldom did; all rafe’s ever wanted was to be loved and accepted by his dad, and this was his way to do it.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… is very aware of and annoyed by how other girls throw themselves at him during parties or in the halls — instead of it fueling his ego, it only angers him because he knows they can see you standing right next to him: “swear the bitch is fuckin’ stupid… like she doesn’t see my hand on your ass.”

 personapeters 2024 — all rights reserved • masterlist

[potatoplace]

I Don't Feel Alive

The Afterthought: Chapter 4 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

part 3 | part 5 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Starfall means dress shopping, and dress shopping means spending time with Nesta and Elain... the celebration is its own set of challenges that you struggle with.

Warnings: Body shaming, toxic family, slight disordered eating, suicidal ideation, self-deprecating thoughts (let me know if I missed anything)

Words: ~9.2k

Author's Note: it's heeeere I didn't get quite as far into the story as I wanted, but this was a good cut off point too. I really hope you guys like this one! I don't think I made it quite angsty enough, but there's still some. Plus a lil fluff to start. Enjoy! p.s. let me know who you think Y/N will end up with! Or anything else you have to say 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

Your dreams were soft and fuzzy, filled with hazy scenes of you laying in bed and cuddling with your sisters, just like you had every night so long ago.

Waking felt similar, your body cocooned by soft blankets and warm arms, your own wrapped around someone's torso. You took a deep breath before opening your eyes, blinking them a few times to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

Mor's face was laying on the pillow in front of you, still relaxed with sleep. She looked even prettier like this, without stress and her busy schedule hanging over her.

You slowly unwrapped your arms from around her, taking care to not wake her. She deserved the extra sleep, with how much time she was going to be spending in the Hewn City through the end of the year.

You rolled onto your back, Mor's arms tightening around you as you did. It felt nice, being held again. In the past two years, you had forgotten how lovely it was to wake up feeling safe, snuggled up with your sisters.

The sound of Mor's soft, even breaths nearly lulled you asleep, before your eyes flew open.

Shoot! You had forgotten Nuala and Cerridwen's Solstice presents...

Mor's arms were gently pried from your body, which was harder to do than you had anticipated, but you managed without waking her.

You pulled on a dressing gown and quietly grabbed the two bags containing their presents. Your bedroom door snicked shut behind you, and you padded down the hallway, down the stairs, and to their bedroom. One knock had the door swinging open, this time greeted by Cerridwen.

"Y/N? Did you need something?" The wraith asked, her eyes widening slightly when she saw the presents in your hand. "Oh, you didn't have to do that, Y/N," she said, letting you into their room.

"But I wanted to, both of you have been so wonderful to me. And I already got them for you, so you have to open them," you insisted, placing each bag in their new owner's hands.

Nuala shook her head but opened her present anyways, a wide smile overtaking her face. "This is wonderful Y/N! Oh and you even got me metal threads, how did you know?!" The wraith embraced you tightly in her arms.

"And you remembered me complaining about my needles, oh mother, Y/N, you are the most thoughtful person!" Cerrdiwen exclaimed, stealing you from her sister's arms. "You will be the first person I make something for," she said after she loosened her hold on you.

"You don't need to do that..."

Cerridwen looked at you sharply. "Yes I do, and I will. Would you prefer a hat or scarf first? Oh, I'll just make you both," she finished, not giving you time to answer.

"Thank you in advance, I suppose," you said, blush dusting your cheeks. "I'm glad both of you liked your gifts."

"Of course we do! You pay so much attention to what you buy for people, it's so sweet," Nuala said kindly.

A heavier blush rose to your cheeks at their sweet words. "I just like to make people happy. Speaking of which, I should get back to Mor-"

"Back to me? But I'm right here!" Mor said brightly from behind you, causing you to jump in shock. "Sorry, Y/N, did I scare you?" Mor's arms wrapped around you from behind. "You left me, so I came down to find you. Want to do breakfast before everyone returns?"

You nodded in agreement, but turned your eyes to the twins. "Do you want to join us?"

"I'd love to," Nuala said, and Cerridwen nodded her head before replying the same.

"Girls' breakfast! Let's go!" Mor exclaimed, pulling you out of the twins' room, down the hall, and into the kitchen.

The twins trailed behind at a less excited pace, and met the two of you in the kitchen as Mor was pulling food out of the cold box. Bacon, sausages, eggs, broccoli, and cheese were taken out, and the four of you began making breakfast- most likely too much food for the four of you, but Mor insisted that once Cassian had returned he would eat any food that was left over.

You provided the tea, rushing upstairs to pick out an orange and ginger tea.

Breakfast with the three of them was lovely, only kind words and soft smiles being exchanged between you. It was much more peaceful than most of the meals you had taken at the dining table, and for that you were grateful.

Your sisters, their mates, and Azriel returned while the four of you were still gathered round the table, talking over the last of the second pot of tea you'd made.

"Good morning, ladies," Rhys said as he slipped into one of the chairs, pulling a glowing Feyre into his lap a moment later. "Did you have a good breakfast?"

You nodded in response, but it was Mor who spoke. "Yes, in a team effort we made far too much food. What about you lot?"

"It was good, but there wasn't enough," Cassian complained as he sat down, plucking a piece of bacon off of a plate. You smiled at his antics, you'd always found it funny how the male never seemed to be truly full.

"There's never enough for you, Cass," Nesta said as she took the seat next to him- directly across from you- and glared hard enough at you that the small smile on your face fell off in an instant.

"That's true, even though he devoured all of the sweets you gave him, Y/N, he was asking for more the moment they were gone," Lucien laughed as he did the same as Rhys, pulling Elain into his lap in the chair next to yours.

Fear clutched at your heart, though you knew it shouldn't. But the thought of Cassian enjoying the sweets you had made so much that he asked for more... You were scared of how Nesta might retaliate this time.

You tried to keep your breathing even as the conversation passed from one ear to the other, no words registering as they spoke.

"Y/N?" Feyre's soft voice broke through, pulling you out of your worried heart and back into the moment. "You're still up to go dress shopping with us tomorrow, right?"

Your eyes flicked up to her, then to her mate behind her who had a stern look on his face. You forced your eyes back to her slightly worried ones, focusing on the gentle blue that you'd known your whole life. "Uhm... Yes, I am," you managed to respond once you had played the question over in your head.

"Good! We were all thinking that noon would be a fine time to leave, that way the three of us can sleep in a bit after the revel tonight. Does that sound good to you?"

You could feel Nesta's burning gaze and Elain's judgemental eyes on you, stoking the fire of your fear.

"That sounds fine to me, Feyre," you replied, fingers working nervously over the painted irises on your teacup, focusing on the tiny ridges that the paint had created, your gaze now trained on them.

Better than seeing the hatred in Nesta's eyes.

"Perfect! Now that that's settled, I think we should all get to perfecting the revel for tonight," Feyre said, causing movement from all around the table.

Except you.

You sat, staring at your teacup until everyone was gone, disappeared off to their rooms or offices, or wherever they needed to be.

That left you to clear the plates, quickly washing the dishes and leaving them to dry in the rack. Your teapot was dried by hand, and filled with tea leaves and hot water once more. Thankfully you were able to retreat to your room without question, letting you escape back into your fantasy world you had created in your mind. Away from Nesta and Elain's combined ire, combined disdain for your very existence.

The lovely jasmine tea Azriel had gifted you helped you forget where you were, nearly convincing yourself you were back in the human lands, sipping tea in the living room with your father as you watched snow fall and bury that tiny little shack, falling asleep to the thought of it in your arm chair.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

The next morning, you forced yourself from the arm chair, stretching out your neck as you did.

Somehow, it was less comfortable than sleeping in the bathtub.

Your soreness abated as you slid into steaming water, bubbling with rose scented soap- something that you were absolutely delighted by, loving that no matter what, your body was completely covered by bubbles. You hardly caught sight of your skin at all, though you knew with the day's plans, you would be forced to confront how your body had changed.

You could feel it, every now and then. The way your bones protruded just a bit more than they had a month ago. How your joints got sore from sitting or laying faster than before. How pale you had become compared to this time last year, when you had a slight glow to your skin.

This year, you were pasty. As though you had been locked away from the sun the entire time.

A sigh left your lips as you finished your skincare, the one act of kindness to yourself that you always made time for.

Your body didn't matter. It's not as though you would find someone in Prythian. After all, fae and humans shouldn't mix...

Feyre had said something similar to you, so long ago about your past crush on Cassian.

Thankfully in that time, only one person had caught your eye... And you were certain that Irina would never stoop so low as to date you of all people.

Another long breath, lungs deflating.

No, you were here to be alone. Mor and Feyre had begun trying to engage with you, for that you were grateful. They were keeping you from losing all hope once more, and it was all you could do to keep that flame alive.

Especially knowing that your own issues with your body would be added to by whatever Nesta and Elain deigned to say to you. Feyre may have told them to behave, but that wouldn't stop them from throwing barbs at you, thinly veiled by concern or 'opinion.'

Your cycle had finished the night before, leaving you tired but free of its scent, which you were overly thankful for. Mor's present was very nice, but you did not want to try the underwear out while dress shopping with your sisters.

You forced yourself to get dressed and headed out of your room, noting the time on the clock in the hallway. Half past eleven.

That should be enough time for a pot of tea, maybe taken in the kitchen? Or should you retreat to your room...?

You turned around and headed back to your room for a packet of tea leaves, this one a plain green tea. After grabbing it, you made your way downstairs, ears listening for any sign of life.

Perhaps they were all asleep still, exhausted from the revel the night before.

The kitchen was empty when you entered it, and you quickly set to making your tea. A few minutes later you were sat at the island in the kitchen, a cushioned stool beneath you. The tea was lovely and calming, it's clean, slightly sea scented aroma perfect for clearing your head.

That was until Nesta and Elain sauntered in, already talking about what dress styles and colors they were hoping to find today. Their conversation didn't stop once as they walked straight past you and into the living room, the only evidence of them noticing you was the feeling of their eyes on your back.

Suddenly, your heart wasn't so calm.

Feyre walked in a minute later, rushing over to you once she saw you seated at the island. "How are you?"

"I'm... I'm okay. How are you, Fey? How's the baby?"

"Oh I'm just fine, baby was being a little fussy earlier but they're all settled now. Are you ready to leave?"

You finished the rest of your tea in a few quick gulps, enjoying the feeling of warmth it brought, and stood from your stool. "I just need to wash this, and then I'm ready," you said, already making your way to the kitchen sink. That was done in a flash, and soon Feyre was ushering the three of you out the door, Nesta and Elain immediately locking arms and taking the lead. You and Feyre trailed after them, your own arms locked together after Feyre forced her elbow around yours, smiling at you when you looked at her.

All too soon, you arrived at the dress store in the middle of the Palace of Thread and Jewels, greeted by the owner, Tarin.

"Ah, the High Lady and her sisters! This is a lucky day for me, that's for sure," Tarin exclaimed as she approached Feyre, clasping their hands together. "What can I help the four of you with?"

"We're looking for dresses for Starfall, I know we're cutting it a bit close-"

"Oh, nonsense! For the High Lady, even the day of Starfall is not too close. Please, look around and pick out what interests you, we can have them altered if need be," Tarin said, waving her arms at the racks upon racks of dresses filling the shop. "I can also have them made up in different colors, and with any variations of fabrics you may like. Any way I can please you, my dears, and I am happy to do it."

Nesta and Elain set into the sea of fabric together, keeping close to each other as they picked through the racks. You stayed near Feyre, feeling wildly out of your depth.

Shopping for Solstice was one thing, it was shopping for those you cared for. But this...

This was shopping for yourself, and you struggled more with that. Buying the hairpin that you currently had twisted in your hair was a rare action, and one of the first non-practical purchase you had made for yourself since coming to Velaris.

"How about this one?" Feyre asked you, drawing you from your thoughts as she waved a dark purple dress in front of you, it's long sleeves waving as she did so.

"It's pretty," you said absentmindedly, staring at the way the fabric shimmered in the light.

"Do you want to try it on?"

Your eyes snapped up to Feyre's. "Me?"

Feyre laughed softly. "Yes, you. The cut is similar to dresses you've worn before, and you like purple, right?"

You looked back down at the dress, taking in the modest bodice and neckline, and the long length of the dress. "I like the design, but I think I'd prefer a lighter color, Fey," you said politely, but grabbed the dress anyway. "I'll try it on, though."

"That sounds fine, we could always get it made in a lilac color if you'd like," Feyre suggested, her hands already moving over more dresses. "You can go put that at the dressing rooms, then come back and look for more, okay?"

You nodded and did as she suggested, returning to her side and half-heartedly looking over the dresses hung in front of you.

Many of them were far too revealing for your comfort, with low necklines and slits up the thigh. You did find a few you thought Feyre may like, gowns that reminded you of the shimmering night sky, and showed them to her when you happened across them.

"Oh, I love this one," Feyre gushed when she saw one you had handed her, this one a dark blue silk with a smattering of silver stars embroidered across the chest and stomach, with a sweetheart neckline. The length of the dress would like reach her mid thigh, and hang just slightly on the tiny bump that was forming on Feyre's stomach. "What do you think?" She asked, holding the dress up to her body. "High Lady of Night enough?"

Even held against her body, the dress looked perfect for her. "Definitely. You should try it on, Fey," you suggested.

"Hmm... I think I will, Y/N. Are you ready to try yours on? I think we've both got a decent number," Feyre said, slowly walking with you to the back of the shop, where the dressing rooms were located.

"I am, I think," you replied, though you were unsure of being anywhere within a ten foot radius of Nesta. Especially if she couldn't find a dress she liked...

Thankfully at the moment, Nesta and Elain were both in their own dressing rooms, trying on whichever ones they had picked out.

You and Feyre entered your own curtained room, the dresses that you had picked out hung on the hooks inside.

A quiet sigh, and you set to undressing yourself. There was no mirror in here, likely to force people out to get recommendations from their friends. The purple dress that Feyre had found was the first you tried on, the soft fabric flowing down your body like water.

It clung too much.

That was your first impression of the dress, even with the modest neckline and hem length. The soft fabric seemed to be molded to your body, and even a cursory feel of your hands over your hips had you wishing you had rejected Feyre's offer to go shopping. You did not want to hear what Nesta would say about the slight show of your bones in the dress.

"Y/N, are you almost done? We're waiting for you," Feyre said softly from the other side of the curtain, and you forced yourself out of the dressing room. "Oh, you look lovely! I think the color looks nice on you," Feyre said kindly, even as her eyes lingered over the sharp edges of your shoulders, the noticeable bump of your hip bones.

"Do you eat?" Nesta asked sharply from across the room, her nose wrinkled as she took you in. "You look like you're still living in poverty, Y/N."

Blood rushed to your cheeks at her words. They were true, though. "I eat. I've just been..." you paused, trying to find a word that wouldn't irritate your sister. "Stressed."

Nesta scoffed, but shut her mouth at a stern look from Feyre.

"The color is nice, Y/N," Elain said weakly. You forced a smile in her direction.

"Thank you, Elain. Your dress is lovely, green is a wonderful color on you," you said, taking in the flowing layers of fabric that made up the skirt of the dress, all in varying shades of dark green.

"Thank you," Elain replied, but moved her gaze to Nesta. "Nes, your dress is gorgeous. I think you should stick with that one, no need to look for others. You look perfect," Elain said excitedly, so different from her reaction to you.

You tried not to let it sting, turning instead to Feyre. She was clad in a floor length dress in black, tiny diamonds sewn on in patterns that you thought were constellations. There was a slit up to her mid thigh on both sides, allowing her to move freely. "This one is beautiful Fey, you look stunning!"

"You think? I still want to try on that last one you picked out, but I really like this one," Feyre said. "Oh, and I may have put an extra dress in your dressing room, please just try it on, I think you'll really like it. It's the pink one on the left hand side. Just, try it," Feyre begged you softly before returning to her dressing room, Nesta and Elain already back in their own.

Your mouth set into a line, you entered the curtained room again. As she said, there was a glittering pink gown hung on the left hand side when you walked in. Your mouth fell into a frown at the neckline.

Entirely too scandalous for you.

But still, you forced yourself to shed the purple dress and shimmy into the pink one as Feyre had asked. The long, flowing sleeves were off the shoulder, connected to the bodice by a small amount of fabric. The neckline of the dress was far lower than you were normally comfortable with, showing more cleavage than you ever had. The dress was loose fitting past your chest, the flowing skirts moving beautifully as you examined them. The pale rose pink of the fabric was one of your favorites, and didn't wash out your complexion. A difficult task, with how pale you are at the moment.

You walked out of the dressing room and stood in front of the mirror, assessing the dress. Your shoulders were far too bony, but even so... You felt beautiful in the dress, like a princess. The skirts reached your feet, billowing out around you. The neckline was lower than you wanted... But it looked lovely, and really, wearing one low-necked dress in your lifetime would be fine. A turn in the mirror showed you your prominent scapulae, half hidden by the fabric of the dress. That could be fixed by styling your hair in large ringlets, enough to cover most of your back. But the gown... The gown was lovely.

"Oh, I knew you would look perfect in that one!" Feyre cheered when she exited her dressing room in the dress you had picked for her. "You look amazing! Please tell me this is the one you want?" Feyre asked, standing by you as both of you stared in the mirror.

"You don't think it's too...?" You gestured to the neckline. "Revealing?"

Feyre shook her head. "No, mother no. I've worn much worse, you have nothing to worry about. It's just a little bit different than usual, is all. And it's perfect on you."

You tried to believe Feyre, and you did like the dress...

But then Nesta walked out. Her eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled as she gave you a once over, obviously displeased with how you looked.

She was so good at that. Tearing you apart with just one look.

"Your shoulders stick out," Nesta remarked as she took her place in front of the mirror, looking herself over. Her dress was made of shiny silver fabric, a corset in the same fabric serving as the bodice with thick straps wrapping over the tops of her shoulders.

You ignored her comment as best you could. "You look amazing in that dress, Nesta. The corset fits you perfectly."

A cold look over her shoulders, followed by a clipped, "Thank you."

Elain came out of her dressing room last, this time clad in a cream colored dress, looking every bit like the bride she was always destined to be.

"Oh, Elain! You look wonderful!" You said brightly as you took a step toward her, stopping when her gaze hit you- cold as ice. "This one looks very nice on you, but the last one looked amazing too," you said, more nervous now.

"Thanks," she answered coolly, setting her eyes on Feyre. "Feyre, that dress is stunning on you, and very fitting for Starfall."

You nodded in agreement, the dress was perfect for her. And just like you thought, it just barely highlighted the tiny baby bump Feyre had. The sight of it made you smile.

You were overjoyed that your sister had found a loving partner in Rhys, and was looking forward to motherhood.

"Thank you, 'Lain, I really like that it shows my bump just a bit, I think Rhys and I are ready to let our court know that we're expecting at Starfall," Feyre said excitedly, a hand stroking her belly.

"That's amazing, Feyre," Nesta said softly, sounding the kindest she had since they had been taken by Hybern.

"You'll be the talk of Starfall," Elain said, holding Feyre's hands in her own. "I'm so excited for you and Rhys!"

"I don't want to make the biggest deal out of it, after all, it's still early, but... Rhys is so excited about finally being a father, I had to talk him down from telling the Hewn City residents about it last night," Feyre sighed. "I am glad that I'm going to have all of my sisters with me, supporting me along the way, though. Thank you all for coming shopping today," Feyre said tearily.

"Of course, Feyre," you said, taking her in your arms. "We're always going to be by your side."

Elain's arms followed next, barely touching you but clutching Feyre close. "Yeah, Fey, we'll always be with you. Right, Nes?"

"Of course. I will always be here for you, Feyre," Nesta said, and reluctantly wrapped her arms around Feyre and Elain, one hand just barely touching you.

When you all pulled away, Feyre was crying softly, tears streaming down her face. You grabbed tissues from a nearby table, dabbing away the tracks of starlight on her face. "It's okay, Feyre. We're all here."

"I-I know," Feyre sniffled. "I just... I love you all so much. I can't imagine life without any of you." She let you wipe her eyes, dabbing away the last of her tears after she collected herself. "Now, let's try on the rest of the dresses, we shouldn't waste too much of Miss Tarin's time."

The four of you continued to try on dresses, with much of the same behavior. You attempted to compliment your sisters, only to be met with cold responses. If they did talk to you, it was to point out how the dress didn't suit you.

You still chose the pink dress that Feyre had chosen for you, Feyre choosing the blue one that you had picked for her. Nesta picked the silver gown. Elain had taken the longest to decide, eventually choosing the green dress she had tried on first.

Feyre had argued over the payment with Tarin, demanding that she pay full price for the rushed orders, eventually winning the argument. Nesta and Elain had left by that point, taking off to some vague location that contained books.

That left you and Feyre, walking slowly across the bridge that would lead you to the Rainbow. She wanted to look at paints, and maybe get something special for the canvases that you had gotten her.

And that's how you found yourself entering Irina's shop once more, your heartbeat kicking up when you realized it. Feyre led you to the wall of paint, her fingers hovering over the tubes as she searched for the colors she wanted.

Soft footsteps approached from the back of the shop, and you were met with Irina, her face just as beautiful as you remembered, her smile just as warm.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat.

"Ah, Feyre and Y/N, it's lovely to see both of you," Irina's smooth voice said. "You came in just in time, I was about to close up early."

"Lucky us!" Feyre said, eyes still glued to the paint tubes. "Any special occasion?" She asked Irina teasingly as she pulled a few out of the selection.

"Oh, hush you," Irina scolded, swatting Feyre gently on the arm. "You know that I have a date with Rivin tonight."

*Oh.

Your heart sank.

"Well, I wanted to make sure the plans were still on! You know I was rooting for the two of you to get together," Feyre said. You grabbed the paint tubes she had picked up from her, pushing her slender hand away when she attempted to take them back. Your fingers rolled over the cap, giving you a sensation to focus on besides your crushed... crush. "The way the two of you danced around each other since I first met you was adorable- I'm so glad you're going out now!"

"Well, I'll only be able to go out with her if you choose what you want soon, or she'll think I stood her up!" Irina laughed, her skin shifting colors under the light.

"Oh, fine, fine," Feyre said, pulling out three more tubes of paint, all shimmering metallic shades. You followed her as she followed Irina to the back counter, placing the tubes on it. Soon enough, the paints were rung up and bagged, and clutched tightly in your arms. "Thank you, Irina. I hope your date goes well."

"Oh, I do as well!" Irina said as she walked the two of you out of the store, locking the door behind her. "I hope the two of you have a lovely rest of your day as well."

"You as well, Irina," you said quietly, nodding your head to her before she turned to leave. She flashed you a dazzling smile, her eyes a bright pink today.

So pretty.

"I'll see the two of you around!" She yelled, waving goodbye over her shoulder.

You and Feyre began the walk home, arms linked together one more, your other balancing the bag of paint.

"How do you know Irina?" Feyre asked once you were crossing the Sidra, taking careful penguin steps so neither of you would fall on the slippery bricks.

Color rushed to your cheeks, though they were already pink from the cold. "Oh, I went into her shop to get one of your birthday presents. The canvases and all," you explained.

"Ahh, that makes sense. She's nice, and she has a great selection!" Feyre said excitedly as the two of you passed through the door of the River House. "I cannot wait to start the first three panels! I'm not quite through my third month yet, but I know some of what I want to do for it."

"I'm glad you like it Fey! I can't wait to see what you make for each one." You kicked off your boots after unlacing them, and let Feyre pull your jacket off your arms, you doing the same for her after. "I think I'm going to head up to my room," you said quietly after you hung up your coats and put your boots on the rack.

"Oh, alright. I... I hope you didn't feel too uncomfortable while shopping," Feyre said. You knew what she meant: with Nesta and Elain.

"I was... fine," you lied half-heartedly.

Feyre stared at you, and you would have thought she was reading your mind, but you didn't feel anything similar. "If you say so. You know you can talk to me, right?" You nodded. "Okay... Well, I'll let you get to your room. Did you want me to start water for tea? I was going to make a cup for myself anyway," Feyre offered, a soft smile on her face.

You nodded again. "That would be nice, thank you, Fey."

Feyre's smile broadened. "I'll see you in the kitchen, sissy."

You went to your room to grab another packet of tea from the sampler Azriel had gotten you- so far, you were a fan of every blend he had chosen. You were hoping today's choice of a rose petal tea would be just as lovely.

The trip back to the kitchen was quick, with no sign of your other two sisters. Good. You weren't in the mood to see their sneering faces again so soon.

Tea was made quickly, thanks to Feyre boiling water for you. You gave her a hug before returning upstairs, tray balanced in your arms.

Just before you opened your door, the door to Rhys's study swung open, Azriel emerging from it.

*Oh!

He came down the hallway, and once he was near the stairs you finally got your brain to move past your anxiety of starting a conversation.

"Hi, Azriel, would you uhm... Would you wait here for just a moment?" You asked. "I have that Solstice present I got for you."

"Alright," Azriel replied quietly, moving closer to your doorway. You went inside quickly, fishing the already wrapped box out from under your bed, and a moment later you were back in front of him, offering the gift to him.

"Open it," you said, pushing the box into his hands.

Soon enough, the dagger was in his hands, his fingers running over the inlaid crescent moon made of sapphires, then over the blade itself. "This is wonderful, Y/N, thank you," Azriel said, sincerity in his tone. "I happen to have gotten a gift for you as well." A moment later, shadows materialized, depositing a festive, glittery evergreen tree colored bag in his hand.

"Oh, Azriel, you didn't have to-"

"Open it," Azriel said simply, transferring the handles over to your hand in a quick movement.

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, but opened the bag. Inside was a beautiful, hooded cloak that would reach at least your mid back, made of a soft, white yarn. Beneath it was a matching scarf, little tassels on the ends, and a pair of mittens. They even had a small button on the top, allowing for the and of the mitten to be lifted and become a sleeveless glove if needed.

"Its made of rabbit fur," Azriel said quietly as you ran your fingers over the fabric. You looked up at with him with wide eyes. "Oh- they just brush or shave the rabbits, don't worry, no fluffy creatures were killed in the making of your gift," Azriel reassured you.

You let out a breath of relief. "Good. Good. It's a beautiful present, Azriel, thank you. Could I- could I give you a hug?" You asked nervously, regretting the question the moment you asked it. "I mean, you don't have to-"

"That would be fine." You blinked up at him. That would be- You allowed yourself to wrap your arms around him, noticing how stiff he was for the first few seconds before relaxing, his own arms coming up around you.

He smelled nice. Like cedar wood and... And night? Whatever it was, it was nice. Calming.

You both retracted your arms at the same time, pulling apart. A soft smile at him and one last thank you, and then you were in your room once more.

You were happy that he liked your present, but the slight wash of warmth it had given you was quickly chased away by the rest of your day.

Nesta and Elain... You were sure that they would never look at you like a sister again.

And Irina... It was such a silly crush that you had, based almost entirely on how pretty she was. You had been taken with her instantly, yes, breath catching in your throat. But that... That meant nothing.

Especially with you still being... Human. Frail. Less than a century from dying.

No fae, no matter how they looked, would ever take you as their wife, that you were sure of. You only had a couple of decades left of looking youthful, and perhaps only a few more past that before illness would inevitably take you.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you sat at your desk, a cup of tea poured out in the next moment.

At least tea could never not choose you...

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next week and a half passed dreadfully slowly, spent mostly in the solitude of your room.

Feyre came by when she could make time, the two of you sharing a pot of tea and the occasional snacks that she would bring.

Mor was stuck in the Hewn City, all the way until the morning of Starfall, when she would have a slight reprieve. She had already promised to come and spend the morning with you to get ready and catch up.

But until then, or until Feyre could make time... You stuck to your room.

Apparently your giving a joint present to Nesta and Cassian, and Elain and Lucien cause some extra anger in the two of them towards you. Nesta's glare had seemed extra fiery, and Elain had appeared perched on Lucien's lap more often than not when you did happen to wander into the living room.

You tried not to let it get to you, you did... But between the extra tension at home and the sadness in your heart from your silly little crush... It was weighing you down.

The days ticked past, counting down to an event that you weren't particularly excited for...

The morning of Starfall arrived, bringing with it the bright ball of energy that was Mor.

"Y/N!" Mor shouted, startling you awake. "Wake up! Wake up wake up! I'm here, I'm here. Please. Wake up. I've missed you!"

"Oh my gods, Mor, I'm awake," you groaned, rubbing your hands over your eyes. "Do you know a gentle way to wake people up?" You asked as you sat up, pushing your hair away from your face.

"Mm, not really. But, my way is super effective," Mor said cheekily, grinning when you stood up in the tub to glare at her with no fire in your eyes. "Come over here, sweets," she demanded, patting the bed next to her. You went over to her, collapsing onto the bed next to her, and swatted at her with a pillow in revenge for her waking you so abruptly. "So, how have the past two weeks been for you?"

"Oh... You know... Boring..." You said quietly. "How's it been for you? Is everyone behaving?"

Mor narrowed her eyes at you for a brief moment, before accepting your change of subject. "Oh, most everyone has been fine... I've been trying very hard to change the city's voting system plus helping plan their Starfall event, so my hands have been full every waking moment. And Keir has been an absolute pain..." Mor sighed. "He doesn't like that he's losing most of his control by the city moving to a full population vote rather than just the nobles, but it's going to happen whether he likes it or not. But for me, that just means him being more of an ass."

"I'm sorry Mor. I wish that someone else was able to help you..."

"Feyre offered, but, well, with her being pregnant that's not the best idea. And I'm sure Amren would enjoy going solely to terrify the citizens, but that's not exactly... What we're aiming for. And I can do it, and I will, I just wish my stupid father wasn't a factor." Mor sighed dramatically and flopped back on your bed, arms flung out to the sides.

One smacked into your thigh and you laughed, pushing it off of you and back over to Mor's side. "I know something that will cheer you up," you offered.

"Oh?" Mor asked, peeking over at you. "And what would that be?"

"Doing our skincare!" You answered brightly, using the same tactic that she always did with you.

"Oh, I should have guessed!" Mor giggled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, sweets. Let's get to it!"

"Wait- let me take a quick bath first, and then I'll be all ready for it."

Mor nodded. "That sounds fine, I'll go make some tea and grab some breakfast for us."

The morning moved quickly from there- too quickly, in your opinion, your alone time with Mor slipping away so fast. After you had bathed, the two of you did your skincare, doing an extra mask and moisturizer to give yourselves an extra glow.

Into the second pot of tea Mor started doing your makeup once she had seen your dress. She spent nearly an hour on you alone, taking her time to perfect your eyeshadow and lipstick, getting just the right about of blush coloring your cheeks. You felt beautiful, seeing yourself like that in the mirror.

Mor's own makeup didn't take near as long, but she was even more beautiful than usual, with the extra time she had put in.

The two of you spent a bit more time together before she had to leave and return to the Hewn City for a bit longer, to make sure their celebration started smoothly.

"I'll see you at the House of Wind later, yes?" Mor asked before she left your room, a stern eye on you.

You sighed. "Yes, Mor, I will see you at the House of Wind. I *won't skip out on the celebration, I promise."

Mor nodded in approval. "Good. I'll see you in a few hours, Y/N."

She breezed out of your room, leaving you alone once again.

You sighed, and sat down on your bed. Then collapsed back onto it.

Just a few more hours, and your anxious anticipation could subside.

Starfall would be fine this year. You will stay away from Nesta, Elain, and their mates, and instead stick around Feyre, Mor, and possibly Azriel, if he didn't seem too annoyed by your presence.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

Four hours later, you were dressed and ready to leave for the House of Wind. Your hair was half pinned up by the hairpin you had bought yourself, half left down in loose curls that conveniently covered most of the bones in your back.

There was little you could do to cover your shoulders, what with the style of the dress, but you felt pretty nonetheless. The gown had been taken in slightly, just enough to fit more snugly and leave you feeling more comfortable with such an exposed neckline, more secure. And the way the skirts flowed around your feet made you feel more graceful than you were.

Overall, you felt decent about yourself tonight. Your hair had cooperated, not making you late for the start of the event by taking too long to style. And the makeup that Mor had done was perfect, just enough to enhance your natural features.

You had even opted for heels tonight, little sparkly silver boots that Feyre had gotten for you, in case you wanted something more than flats to wear.

When you finally left your room, you made your way downstairs where Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel were waiting in the entryway, seemingly for you.

"Oh, Y/N, you look beautiful!" Feyre exclaimed when she caught sight of you, rushing over to pull you into her arms. "I just love this dress on you!"

"Yes, both of you look lovely, but Feyre...?" Rhys started.

"Oh, shoot! We need to get going, Y/N, but Azriel will take you up to the House when you're ready!" Feyre said brightly, leaving the house a moment later and letting her mate take her in his arms, shooting of into the sky together.

Your heart dropped. Flying? You had only flown a few times, usually to get to the House of Wind as you would be tonight. It still terrified you as badly as it did on the first time, leaving you shaking every time.

"Are you ready to leave?" Azriel asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You nodded, and followed him outside, even as you felt like your heart was in your throat at the prospect of flying.

He gently pulled you into his arms, one hooked beneath your knees and the other supporting your back. Your arms instinctively flew around his neck, ready to hold on for dear life.

Not that you didn't trust Azriel to keep you alive, just... You weren't made for flying, you don't think.

The push off from the ground had you closing your eyes, squeezing them shut tight. You could feel your heart racing, trying to leave your chest as you were overtaken by fear.

"You look beautiful tonight," Azriel said, his deep voice in your ear causing your eyes to snap open.

"You don't have to lie..."

Azriel let out a soft breath. "I'm not lying, you look beautiful tonight. Pink is your color, I believe," He said, his voice right in your ear again. Color rushed to your cheeks at his compliment, and you smiled- small, but there.

A moment later, he had landed solidly on the ground, carefully placing you on your feet.

You'd nearly forgotten you had been flying.

Soon after distancing yourself from him, Rhys rushed over to pull him away for some reason or another. Which left you standing alone in the House of Wind, for the first time since Bounty Day.

Anxiety grew in your gut again, making you feel queasy.

Especially when you saw the feast, laid out over that same massive dining table.

You turned away from the banquet, navigating instead to Feyre's side. Already she was surrounded by a few citizens, but you were able to make your way in for a hug from your sister. Soon though, more far crowded in, and following the arrival of Rhys you broke away from your sister, no longer feeling welcome next to them.

You wandered off, searching for Mor in the ever growing sea of people, with no luck yet.

Azriel, the other person you knew that could be safe to talk to, was occupied talking to a very pretty redhead, and also next to Nesta and Cassian.

Definitely a no.

After a while, you filled a small plate with food, picking at the smoked meats, cheeses, and some pieces of fruit until you couldn't stand it anymore, taking the plate back into the kitchens.

Back here, it was quieter. A few stragglers were wandering in and out between the balconies nearby, but you paid them no mind as you got a glass of cool water from the sink.

You let yourself take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, to bring yourself out of your anxiety. It helped, but not much.

It was enough to allow you to wander back out into the party, passing more than enough males who eyed you up and down, leaving you nervous. You were almost tempted to grab a glass of wine, but you knew all that was provided was faerie wine, something that you never wanted to try after hearing some of Feyre's tales involving it.

You knew this dress was a mistake. A beautiful one, yes, but it left you feel exposed unlike every before.

Every few minutes, you circled back to where Feyre was, seeing if there was an opportunity for you to ask her to take you back to the River House, or have someone take you back. But every time you passed, there was somehow more people crowded around Feyre and her mate.

Mor was nowhere to be seen two hours into the party, leaving you adrift in the sea of fae that had overtaken the House of Wind. You were overwhelmed and feeling so alone, the noise of the party drowning out any coherent thoughts you could have.

Just make it to the Starfall, and you can go.

That's what you told yourself for an hour as you continued your slow circles of the main rooms, attempting to find Mor or see if Feyre was available. No luck for you, though.

Cheers erupted as the first streaks of glowing green overtook the sky, giving you your cue to leave.

You didn't care that it was cold and snowy out, you just needed away from the noise, the lights, the everything that always surrounded you.

The stairs were hell in your heeled boots, but you dealt with them, forcing yourself to go one step at a time. By some miracle, you didn't fall, merely ending the massive flight of stairs by sitting down at the bottom to catch your breath.

Tears had begun falling down your cheeks at some point, driven by the cold and how lonely you feel, how forgotten you felt yet again.

You finally pushed yourself off of the cold stone, the bottom of your dress now wet with snow.

The forest would give you the peace you wanted, though you wouldn't venture near as far as you had last time. No, tonight you just wanted a bit of peace, a bit of time with only natural light shining upon you, even if it was enhanced by the cosmic phenomenon going on above you.

Your feet carried you to the edge of Velaris, the forest in your sights. A sigh of relief left you as you saw the trees, so reminiscent of the ones you had grown up near.

And then you crashed into a wall.

"What the-?" You rubbed at your nose, attempting to soothe the pain of crashing into- whatever you had crashed into. You held your hands out, shocked to find that they rested perfectly on an invisible force in front of you. Nothing that you tried let your hands pass that point, and a kick at the area led to the same results- a foot that you knew would hurt badly in the morning.

You couldn't *believe it.

They had locked. You. In. They had taken any amount of freedom you could have, no matter how fleeting it would inevitably be.

Ice cold rage and swells of disappointment left you a sobbing mess as you stumbled away from the wall of your cage, following the Sidra with no true destination in mind.

You would not be going back to that house. You couldn't. Not when- when... Not when Feyre had okayed you being locked inside of the city like nothing more than a pet, like you weren't a person with feelings and needs and desires.

You were sick of being alone, sick of feeling alone even in a sea of people. You had no one who was just yours. And that would never change in Velaris, would never change unless you were around humans once more.

"Y/N!" A warm voice said, drawing your eyes from the snow covered ground to the person it came from. "How did the recipe I gave you turn out? Good?" Sevenda asked, her smile turning to a frown when she saw your tear covered, blotchy face. "Is everything okay, dear?"

Another sob left your lips, despite your attempts to quiet it. "I- I- No," you managed to get out.

"Oh, come in here for a minute, Y/N, you're freezing!" Sevenda said, pulling you into the back of her restaurant. She pushed a cup of tea in front of you, which you gladly accepted, your fingers warming instantly from the mug. "Did you want to talk about it?" She asked after a couple of minutes.

You shook your head, but sighed and answered anyways. "I just... I don't belong in that house, I don't belong in Velaris... I can't... I can't keep pretending like I do, acting like I'm happy to be there... I need..." You sighed again. "I need out of there." And then an idea struck you. "I- I know this would be a lot to ask, and that you likely don't need help from a human but... Do you happen to need help here? I could do anything you need, I just..." You trailed off.

"You need out?" Sevenda asked, sympathy on her face and in her voice. "Well, I did lose one of my prep cooks to the Continent recently, he went to study new styles of cooking. If you are serious about this, I will have you show up at nine tomorrow morning. Okay, dear?"

You nodded your head vigorously. "I would be so grateful, Sevenda, truly, thank you so much." You let the older fae pull you into her arms, the gentle hug enough to stop your tears for the moment.

"Are you going to be alright, dear?" She asked once she pulled away, looking you in the eyes. You nodded your head, not trusting your voice at the moment. "Okay. Let me get you a cup of tea to go, and you should go straight home, hmm?"

You let her do just that, accepting the hot jasmine tea in a lidded cup that she made you promise to bring back in the morning. After saying goodbye, you set off in the opposite direction of the River House.

No matter how cold you were, you didn't feel like going back there yet.

Some time later, you found yourself on a cliffside, overlooking the bay of Velaris. Your tea was long gone by now, any warmth it had given you gone with it.

The rocks down below looked so inviting, as though they would welcome you in an instant. You let out a long, heavy breaths, tears beginning to flow again.

You wish you had the strength to jump.

Instead, you sat on the edge of the cliff, booted feet dangling over the side. The snow underneath you was frigid, leaving you colder than before. But still, you sat and watched the waves, and listened to the crash on the rocks below.

"Y/N?" A deep voice asked from behind you, but you paid it no mind. Maybe they would leave you alone. "Y/N?" The voice asked again. After another length of silence from you, the person took another approach, and sat next to you instead, their own long legs dangling over the edge. A warmth behind you, and less wind hitting you after the male readjusted. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You still didn't answer.

Instead, you were surprised by gentle hands winding a scarf around your neck in two loops, then a cloak being fastened over your head and buttoned in the front, and finally a pair of mittens slid over your hand.

Azriel didn't make you talk, didn't make you do anything. He simply let you take the time you needed to recover, to stop your tears.

A while later, the waves started to lull you to sleep, your head tilting to the side until Azriel pulled it to his arm, letting you rest against him. Your eyes fluttered shut, your cheek soaking in the warmth of him, even through the hood of your cloak.

It was only when you nearly pitched forward off the cliff that Azriel insisted on taking you back to the River House, or at least to a café where you could warm up.

"I suppose..." your voice cracked. "That going back to the River House would be... fine... for now," you whispered, glad that he didn't force you to speak any more. A moment later and you were pulled through shadows, similarly to how Nuala and Cerridwen travelled but... different in a way. Almost warmer, you would say.

The two of you appeared in front of your bedroom door, the warm air shocking your skin and making you feel clammy.

"I'll have my shadows bring you a pot of tea, feel free to take a bath or change so you can warm up, Y/N. I hope you have a better night that it has been so far," Azriel said quietly before turning to leave.

"Thank you, Azriel," you croaked just before he turned to go down the stairs. He gave you a small smile and nodded before continuing on his way.

You entered your bedroom, tears falling almost instantly once you were alone again. You forced yourself to strip, hanging up the pink gown to dry and setting your sparkly boots near the door. The bath felt soothing, at least, warming you to the core by the time you got out.

And there, awaiting you on your desk, was a fresh pot of the lavender and chamomile tea that you preferred for sleep.

A few extra tears fell at that small act of kindness, and you helped yourself to a still steaming cup of it, settling into the armchair that you had perpetually pulled near your window, a throw blanket across your body.

Sleep claimed you before you had even finished your second cup of tea.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao

Series Taglist: @darkbloodsly @angelbunny222 @uniquedreamsblog @romantasyreader28 @that-one-bibliophole @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @deathtopistachios @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @babypeapoddd @kingshitonly @bravo-delta-eccho @bluebries81 @liahaslosthermind @deepestmentalitypersona @historygeekqueen @hermajestysworld @marina468 @esposamultifandom @astrokitty18 @larissa01-blog2 @acourtofbatboydreams @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @thelov3lybookworm @weekendlusting @dxjaaaa @thejediprincess56 @casiiopea2 @butterfix

[starsjulia]

leah vs the kitchen // leah williamson

a/n : more fluff!!!

warnings : traumatised beth, mentions of sex

The moment you stepped through the front door, you knew something was wrong. The smell… oh, the smell. It hit you like a wall. Burnt… something. Not “oops, I left the toast in too long” burnt. It was the “fire department might need to get involved” kind of burnt.

“Leah?” you called out cautiously, shutting the door behind you.

From the kitchen came a crash, followed by a very unconvincing, “Stay out there! I’ve got it under control!”

You snorted, shrugging off your coat. Under control. Sure. If Leah Williamson ever had something in the kitchen “under control,” you’d eat your own shoe. You’d been with her long enough to know: Leah was talented in many, many ways. Cooking was not one of them.

“Are you burning down our kitchen for fun or…?”

“Just—just five more minutes!” Leah shouted back.

“Love, I think you’re out of time.”

You followed the smell to the kitchen and immediately stopped dead. It looked like a war zone. A pot sat abandoned in the sink, still faintly smoking. Something unidentifiable bubbled angrily on the stove, its consistency closer to wet cement than food. There were bowls, pans, and splatters of something everywhere. Leah stood in the middle of it all, wooden spoon in hand, hair falling out of her bun, and a streak of sauce across her forehead like war paint.

“Leah,” you said slowly, “why does our kitchen look like it’s being exorcised?”

She whipped around to face you, eyes wide with a mix of panic and hope. “You’re home early.”

“You said to come home at six. It’s six.”

“Well, yeah, but like six-ish,” Leah mumbled, abandoning the spoon in the bubbling pot of doom.

You crossed your arms, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “Is this… dinner?”

Leah exhaled loudly, running a hand down her face and smudging more sauce onto her cheek. “It was supposed to be. I watched two cooking tutorials for this, babe. Two.”

“Oh, you really committed,” you teased, stepping closer.

“I did!” Leah insisted, throwing her hands in the air. “But then I turned my back for one second, and the risotto—”

“Risotto?” You peered into the pot and grimaced. “Babe, that’s not risotto. That’s glue.”

Leah groaned, leaning against the counter in defeat. “I wanted this to be special. It’s our anniversary, and I thought, you know, candles, home-cooked dinner, romantic gestures… I was trying to impress you.”

You softened immediately, stepping up to her and slipping your arms around her waist. “Leah, you already impress me.”

She looked down at you, unimpressed by your sweetness. “You’re just saying that because I look cute with sauce on my face.”

“That too,” you replied, grinning. “But I’m serious. I don’t need a perfect dinner to know you love me.”

Leah sighed, resting her forehead against yours. “I do love you, though. So much it’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” you teased. “Big England captain, embarrassed?”

“Only when it comes to you,” she murmured, leaning down to kiss you softly.

The kiss lingered, warm and sweet, as Leah’s fingers skimmed up your back and yours tangled in her hair. For a moment, you forgot all about the smoke, the bubbling disaster on the stove, and the kitchen that looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Leah kissed you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, and honestly, you were happy to let her…

Until the front door slammed open.

“Oi! Tell me there’s no food poisoning happening this time—”

“BETH!” Leah shouted, jerking back so quickly she nearly knocked you over.

There, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, was Beth, your toddler son perched on her hip, staring at the scene with wide, horrified eyes. Behind her, Viv peered over her shoulder with a grin, clearly enjoying the chaos far more than Beth was.

Beth took one look at the smoke curling from the stove and the sauce streaked across Leah’s face and muttered, “Jesus Christ. It’s happening again.”

“Beth, get out!” Leah cried, her cheeks turning beet red.

“I knew this would happen,” Beth said, ignoring Leah entirely. She turned to your son. “I told you. Didn’t I tell you?”

Your son wrinkled his nose dramatically, pointing at the stove. “Mama, why are you burning food again?”

Leah clapped a hand over her face. “I hate all of you.”

You, on the other hand, were too busy laughing to defend her. Beth shot you a look. “Don’t laugh! You don’t know what I’ve been through!”

“What you’ve been through?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Beth pointed an accusing finger at Leah. “Last time I babysat, I came back early and walked in on—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Leah warned, eyes wide.

“—unspeakable horrors,” Beth finished dramatically, turning to Viv for support. “I haven’t been the same since.”

Leah groaned, grabbing a tea towel and whipping it in Beth’s direction. “You’re so dramatic.”

Beth ducked out of the way, still clutching your son like a shield. “I am dramatic because I’m traumatized. I see them kiss now, and I flinch.”

Viv snorted, clearly unbothered. “You brought it on yourself, to be fair.”

“Why do you always come home early anyway?” Leah grumbled, narrowing her eyes at Beth. “You’re meant to be babysitting.”

“I was babysitting,” Beth replied. “But he wanted his dinosaur toy, so we came back to get it. And you’re lucky I did because I think you were seconds away from setting this place on fire.”

Your son perked up at this, clearly unfazed by the chaos. “Is the house gonna blow up?”

“No, mate,” Leah said quickly, shooting you a helpless look. “It’s not gonna blow up.”

Beth raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sure about that, Williamson?”

“Out,” Leah hissed, pointing toward the door.

Beth grinned, finally setting your son down and ruffling his hair. “Alright, alright. I’ll take him to ours and actually babysit. You two… do whatever it is you do when I’m not here to stop it.”

“Beth!”

She only cackled, grabbing Viv’s hand and dragging your son back out of the kitchen.

The moment the door slammed shut behind them, Leah groaned, sinking to the floor. “I’m never going to live this down.”

You sat beside her, leaning your head on her shoulder. “You’re really bad at keeping secrets from Beth.”

“She has a sixth sense for interrupting,” Leah muttered darkly. “I swear she hides in the bushes waiting for us to kiss.”

You grinned, reaching over to tug Leah’s face toward you. “Hey, it’s okay. Despite the ruined dinner, the smoke, and Beth’s trauma, I still love you.”

Leah softened immediately, a lovesick smile spreading across her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She wrapped her arm around you, pulling you into her lap and pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know?”

You smiled, turning to kiss her softly. “Even though I make fun of your cooking?”

“Especially then,” Leah replied, grinning against your lips.

And as the smell of burnt food lingered in the kitchen and Beth’s dramatic complaints echoed faintly in your head, you realized it really was the perfect anniversary, chaos, laughter, and all.

[whirligig-girl]

i've always been confused about how birthdays work in Star Trek. Like, when you're celebrating an alien's birthday--or even a human who was not born on Earth or even in the Solar System--are you just counting earth years? We don't even use those in space, we use stardates. Or are you counting orbital periods of their homeworld? Some of those orbital periods are gonna be measured in a small handful of months, some of them maybe even days.

Vulcans live to be over 200 years old, but their world orbits 40 Eridani A, which is an K-dwarf. It has 0.4 solar luminosities. In order for Vulcan to receive the same instellation from 40 Eridani A as Earth gets from Sol, it would orbit at about sqrt0.4=0.63 au. Its orbital period would then be just shy of 7 months. So when Janeway gets Tuvok a birthday cake in that Voyager episode... was she counting Vulcan years (astronomically appropriate) or Earth years (it is, after all, a human tradition)?

Janeway says "not long before the big triple digits," so he's probably in his 90s here. Tuvok was a young man during the events of Star Trek 6, which takes place in 2293, Voy S6 takes place 2376, 83 prior. If Tuvok was just 20 years old in 2293, he'd be 103 earth years old and over 176 Vulcan years old. Maybe Vulcans count in a different base system. Memory Alpha suggests he's born 2264, making him 112 earth years old.

I suppose we could make sense of this if Vulcan has a longer orbital period than Earth. Maybe it's still habitable because of all the volcanic heat?

What about an alien from a planet around a red dwarf star? They might have a birthday every couple weeks, which is hardly worth celebrating. What about people from the Moon, or Benzar-B93, or Andoria? Do you measure their birthday in terms of their parent planet's orbit about the star as usual, or do you measure their birthday in terms of orbits about their parent planet?

My starfleet slimegirl character, Eaurp Guz, was born on a coorbital planet in a horseshoe orbit wrt a gas giant. How the hell do you calculate her birthday? Some years are substantially longer than others!

Either way. To whomever or whatever views this post, from whatever world: With whatever periodicity you celebrate it, for your next birthday, my wishes are as follows.

[russo-woso]

Comment || Arsenal x reader

Request | Masterlist

Warning mention of bullying, mental health problems, mention of suicide

Summary You accidentally reveal why you don’t interact with your team

A/N this is a sadddd and angsty one so buckle in

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Y/N, you’re coming to the restaurant with us, right?” Katie asked, seeing you try to scurry out of the room without anyone noticing.

Unfortunately for you, Katie saw you and was curious whether she’d see you at the restaurant that night.

To celebrate the end of the year and Christmas, the team had organised a meal out at a local restaurant, nothing much but enough to satisfy the whole team.

You hesitated a bit, you also unaware of your own answer.

You see, you hadn’t always had the best experiences with a team.

Your previous teammates had made a few comments here and there about you.

She doesn’t deserve to get minutes

Why did the club even sign her

Shittiest player I’ve ever seen

Drop her back down to the Sunday league

At first, they were just small remarks that happened every so often, but then it turned to 24/7.

In the changing rooms, over text, on the pitch. Everywhere, anytime.

They were bullying you.

And even when you brought it upon the manager, he just shrugged, ‘that’s banter for you’ he had told you whilst laughing.

Maybe you were just being sensitive. Maybe you were taking it the wrong way. Maybe this was how a team was supposed to play.

From that moment onwards, you thought it was normal.

You didn’t complain about it anymore, just bottling up your emotions so they didn’t have to see it.

It wasn’t until a very poorly played game that you realised just how damaged they’d made you.

You had played the final four minutes of the game.

When you ran onto the pitch, your team was already losing 4-0.

And although you’d impacted the game massively and had prevented two goals in them four minutes, you were entirely blamed for the loss.

You had dreaded walking into the changing rooms after, all your teammates angry at their performances but somehow blaming it on you made it a lot better.

One of your teammates had squared up to your shaking body, their finger pointing at you.

Your breath became uneven as you closed your eyes in dread.

“You were shit today! You were the reason we lost! You were a let down today. You made us lose! Do us all a favour, Y/L/N and fuck off. We don’t need you on our team! You just fuck up our play and make us fucking lose! Nobody likes you, Y/N. You’re a shit player!” She screamed, the rest of the girls agreeing. She finished shouting at you, but was not finished without pushing you to the floor.

You put on a strong face, standing up and grabbing your stuff before walking out.

You walked for miles in the rain, no car, your phone dead, just you and your thoughts.

You don’t remember much from that night, you’d passed out on some bridge for most of it.

But you remembered one thing.

You remember laying on the bridge, your body fighting for consciousness and thinking would it be so bad if you were to never wake up?

Would anyone actually miss you?

You had your mum left but she mainly focused on your older brother more - he’s a lawyer and had kids - no more explanation needed.

You were so close to completely giving up, so close to letting ending everything.

You used all your strength, pulling yourself up and taking yourself over to the edge of the bridge.

The river underneath was violent, the water crashing against its beds with purpose.

You started counting down in your head, dunking it with your heartbeat.

3… 2…

“Dear! What are you doing?” A voice exclaimed from behind you.

You turned with watery eyes to see a woman, 65 maybe?

You looked in her eyes, a solace look in them.

“Please… look at me. I’m a complete stranger to you. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. But what I do know about you, is you have so much to live for that maybe you don’t realise you have. Take a look around. What do you see?” She began, taking a few steps towards you.

“Bushes, the river, trees.” You listed, taking deep breaths steady your breathing.

“Trees. Look how they’re blowing in the wind. They’ve got no control over themselves. They’re being pushed around and they can’t do anything, but one thing that they are doing, is having a tiny bit of strength to keep them standing. A storm may have big impacts but at the end of the day, they go away. What you’re going through now is just a storm, I promise. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Go travel, go to London, go somewhere you’ve never been before. You’re just stuck in a storm, a bad one, but at the end of everyone is sunshine.”

You listened to her words, taking into account what she was saying.

Slowly but surely, you stepped back from the edge, collapsing into the womens arms.

You’ll never forget that night.

The woman, you didn’t even find out her name, but you knew she was your guardian angel that night.

And although you didn’t completely believe her words, she was right.

You were in the middle of a passing storm.

Not only two days later, you were sat in your managers office being told you were going to another club.

You were given a list of clubs that were interested but one stood out massively, a London club.

You were doing what the woman told you to do, you were going to London.

Which leads you back to the conversation with Katie, your Arsenal teammate.

“Umm… I’ll have to see how tired I am.” You lied, making up a random excuse.

“You said that last time, Y/N.” Alessia pointed out, a playful smile on her face, a completely innocent one which meant no harm.

“And the time before that.” Kyra then added, gently knocking her shoulder into yours.

“Please come, Y/N. I barely know you, it’ll give us time to get to know you.” Steph explained

You hesitated between yes and no.

“Okay. I’ll be there.” You finally said after a few moments.

Everyone cheered, telling you what time to be there and how excited they were that you’d said yes to going.

Maybe these girls aren’t as bad.

—

You were one of the first ones to arrive at the restaurant, not wanting to be late.

Katie and Caitlin were already there and called you over.

One by one, the team filled the table, a buzz filling the air as everyone chatted to each other.

You sat quietly at the end of the table, having nothing really to say.

“What’re you doing for Christmas, Y/N?” Alessia asked, obviously realising no one was talking to you.

“Nothing much. I’ll probably get a few snacks in and watch some…” you began but soon slowed down your words as you set eyes on someone from across the room.

There, sat your guardian angel, your lifesaver.

“Y/N?” Alessia asked, confused but followed your eyeline to see the woman. “Are you okay?”

“I haven’t seen her in months.” You mumbled to yourself but Alessia also heard.

“Who is she?”

“She saved my life.” You responded, not knowing it would lead to you revealing your secret.

“Oh my god…” Alessia whispered, realising it was a big moment for you seeing her again. “Is she a doctor? Were you ill?”

“No.” You shook your head, your eyes not leaving the woman. “My old team, they used to make comments about me. It started with a few - what I thought were harmless - comments but they continued coming. Over message, in the changing rooms, on the pitch. They made me feel like I didn’t belong there - that I didn’t belong on earth. After the match against PSG—” you began

“—The one where you played a few minutes?” Alessia questioned, you nodding in response. “You played incredible that match. You completely turned the game around.”

“Yeah, I thought that too. But after the match in the changing rooms, I got blamed for the loss. My old teammate pushed me to the floor and the rest of them laughed at me. I ended up walking into the rain and walked for miles. I collapsed on this bridge at some point and I decided to go towards the edge. I was counting down in my head. My heart wasn’t racing, I think it was the calmest I’d felt in years. It was what all my teammates wanted so I was going to do them all a favour. I was going to… I was on seven when I heard a voice behind me. It was her. She saved me.” You explained, looking back to Alessia but seeing 25 sets of eyes on you.

Most of the girls had tears in their eyes, your story hitting them hard.

“That’s why it took so long for to come out with you. It wasn’t any of you personally and I’m sorry if it felt like that but I don’t think I can ever trust teammates again.”

“Y/N, don’t say sorry.” Leah’s breathed out, leaning over the table to take your hand in hers. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“I know it might take some time to realise but not all teams are like them. If you can, can you please trust us. We want to show you what being in a true team feels like.” Kim told you, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“I’d like that, thank you.”

“We’re here for you, Y/N. Here at Arsenal, we’re not just a club, we’re a family. Whether you like it or not. Some of us - Kyra - can be annoying sometimes but at the end of the day, we’re a family, and that’s the most important part. We’d like nothing more than to be your family from now on.” Lia added, sending you a smile.

“A family, huh? I think I’d like that.” You said, a smile appearing on your face.

“Enough of that now. That’s your past, it’s time to think about the future. And I’m not having you all alone on Christmas so you’re coming with me to my family on Christmas.” Alessia stated confidently, not giving you any choice.

“Alessia, I can’t, it’s your—”

“Ah, no — remember we’re family.” Alessia told you, hitting your shoulder with hers.

“Family.” You whispered quietly, smiling to yourself.

You took another look over to the woman.

She was still talking away to the man she was with but managed to catch your eye.

She sent a wink and a smile over to you.

You took your eyes off her for seconds and when you looked again, she was gone.

You never knew her name, and you didn’t know who she was, but you couldn’t be more grateful.

Not only had she saved your life that night, but she had also brought you a family.

[ottosbigtop]

king what do you think of comic #7 :D

I JUST finished it like 30 minutes ago so i definitely need to reread it a couple hundred times like i did iwth the other ones but. Highlight moments

PAULING NAME REVEAL. That was awesome

pauling and engineer are FRIENDS they are FRIENDS and he wants to make sure she does the right thing but hes not going to stop her from doing what she wants

Pauling and spy are also friends. I like htat :)

the spy face reveal made me like leave my seat and pace around my room. He looks exactly how everyone expected him to look but the fact that they did that at all was so unexpected.

ZHANNA AND SOLDIER HAVE KIDS !!!!!! LOVE WINS!!!!!!!!

i love scout being a single dad i think thats beautiful. I wish his mom had shown up in the final panel.

on the whole i think it was just a very solid conclusion . It did exactly what it was supposed to and it tied things up, which i did not expect at all. i like that the answer to what the Administrator was doing was.. not all that much, really. At the end of the day her goals were just as aimless as any of the Manns. It definitely feels more like an epilogue than a full issue, and with that theres kind of some lingering disappointment that there wasn’t more to the comic after 7 years of waiting, but ignoring the wait time, i think it did what it set out to do well. In all its clunky and unserious tf2 glory.

If there’s one critique i could give, i would say i really wish we had more of the mercs interacting with each other. We didnt get to see them meet up with Engie properly again which felt kind of underwhelming and for the most part they just kind of did a lot of standing around, behind or next to Pauling. like, it was a good ending, but definitely more for the Administrator and Pauling and the Mann characters stories, not reaaally great for more content of the mercs. But they’ve all been a sideline to Pauling as shes been the mc through most of this really. Its not necessarily new to want more of them dicking around, but i still miss it.

at the end of the day. 10/10. God this style is gorgeous. Im SO happy they moved away from the style of the 6th edition to get closer to the style that was more like what makani did in the other previous issues. And im glad we dont have to stare at a grey box on the comics page anymore yearning for issue 7.

[thekoldun]

I actually think the point isn't "there is no reason" but rather "there was one, once, but it was just the first push and the whole thing picked up speed from there and only now, finally, has it slowed down." And we do see reasons! What's so clever about the opening is the way we get a repetition of an opening, a title page, and some white text on a black background acting as the lead-in, and we get it three times, as if the story is trying to gets its engine started and it keeps sputtering out. What we're seeing, over and over, are variations on a tragedy, possible reasons. Bodies brutalized. Bodies under ice. Bodies poisoned, maybe external, maybe self inflicted, surrounded by blueprints. Were they business rivals, maybe haberdashers or weapon-makers? Was it a stupid accident covered up? We don't know! We can't know, because the years have taken their toll, and all that's left is the hatred and the spite. There was a reason! She hated that man so much that she took control over an incredibly powerful resource all with the intent of bringing him back and doing what she already did, over and over again. What Engie supposes to Pauling, who has the potential to take control over a newly discovered surplus, is that she could use all of those resources and actually execute a grand master plan on a grand scale like what she *thought* the Administrator was doing. She could live out the reality of what she imagined the truth had been real, she could deliver on what the Administrator failed to do. But does anyone truly want that? Is that what the point is? Not stupid misadventure, not pulpy fistfights on the edge of a cliff, but rather a perfect folding mechanism of a mystery and a master plan? Better to sink it into the sea.

Given the length of the hiatus between issues 6 and 7, I have to wonder whether "actually, there was never a secret plan, the violence was pointless from start to finish and you never get to find out why" was the plan all along, or whether they literally just couldn't think of anything that would live up to the hype.

[beloveds-embrace]

I live for the Found Family trope, it is like the air I breath and the dukedom AU is an amazing found family AU. Like the dutchess family never really cared for her, she was a commodity to be sold to her husband for political gain and she expected a life of abuse and servitude under his control, just like she was to her parents. But then she meets these amazing 4 men who worship the ground she walks on and takes time to actually get to know her and appreciate and love her and for the first time in her life she realises what a family is all about. Its love and acceptance and it is so so beautiful. And if her parents were cruel to her before her marriage and they find out? They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but those boys would do everything in their power to destory her birth families reputaion and burn them to the ground.

FOUND FAMILY TROPE IS SO GOOD I ADORE IT 😩 i fully agree with you babes it makes me soo happy to write and see duchess getting loved like this

Dukedom 141 masterlist

You had spent your entire life as a pawn on your parents’ chessboard. A daughter shaped and molded not for love but for utility- trained to smile, to bow, to obey, first and then for your eventual husband. Your parents had made it clear that your worth lay in what you could offer them: alliances, power, status, and children. When they married you off, it wasn’t for your happiness. It was to seal a deal, and you had braced yourself for a life of cold, unfeeling servitude.

But then… there was John. And Kyle. And Simon. And Johnny.

You hadn’t expected kindness. You hadn’t expected warmth. You certainly hadn’t expected love. But that’s what you found with them anyways, a safe place to let your tender little heart rest and be adored

Johnny, with his reckless charm and unwavering loyalty, was the first to make you laugh when you thought you never would again. Kyle, steady and dependable, made you feel safe in ways you hadn’t even known you needed. Simon, sharp-tongued and fiercely protective, saw straight through your walls and vowed to stand guard at their gates. And John-your husband in name, but so much more than that in heart- looked at you like you were his entire world and made sure you never doubted it.

A family forged- not by blood, but by choice. And for the first time, you understood what family was supposed to be. It was laughter shared over quiet dinners and comfort offered without question. It was hands that held you steady, hands that didn’t hurt or inflict pain on you, but rather held you like you meant the world. And voices that called your name not as an order but as a promise. It was love, unconditional and endless.

When your birth family cams for a visit, they thought they still held power over you. They thought their words and threats could send you crawling back, begging for their approval. Cruelty lacing every letter and ever word, meant to remind you that they truly view you as something to be used and abused per their wants and needs.

But they hadn’t accounted for the four men who stood by your side now.

Johnny laughed at their arrogance when they demanded to see the chef because they weren’t happy with the food, sharp and biting, remembering how he had to spend nights promising you that you weren’t losing or gaining weight, you didn’t need to skip out on meals out of fear- he knows it was all their fault and he hates them. Kyle, calm but cold, began drafting plans to dismantle their influence piece by piece, never once hesitating, from the very second he witness the way they brushed you aside and didn’t let you speak. Simon was already spreading whispers that would see their allies turn against them, and John- oh, John- made it clear that any further attempts to harm you would be met with ruin, his voice sharp and eyes sharper, pullinh you behind him gently when it was clear your parents might strike you.

Because hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? No.

Hell hath no fury like the men who love her.

And to you, it was such a beautiful fury.

[cherrygirlfriend]

new addition to the family pairing: author!reader x drew starkey synopsis: your boyfriend brings home a new addition into the family warnings: fluff!! wc: 500 i wrote this at like 5am after waking up and then promptly fell asleep once i was finished; caused by me rewatching the kitten interview before bed... and by my own cat. ily ms. catterina! (also this has been in the drafts FOREVER sry)

you were sitting down in your home office, unable to focus on work as your eyes kept wandering to the clock in the corner of your laptop every few minutes; drew was doing press for the upcoming season of outer banks, but he was supposed to be home a few hours before, you tried not to worry, knowing he sometimes liked to spend time with some of his friends afterwards for dinner or something, but usually he texted you to let you know he'd be home late.

when you finally heard someone fumbling with the door to your apartment, the lump in your throat slowly smoothed out as you got out of your seat, stretching the kinks in your body as you peeked your head into the hallway, happy to see your boyfriend.

"hey, you should've told me you were gonna be-"

your sentence was interrupted by the sight of your boyfriend standing in the hallway leading into your apartment, an expression on his face that screamed that he was caught red-handed, but as you were about to ask what it was about, you noticed it.

"don't be mad." he lifted his finger before you could say anything, and that's when you noticed the animal carrier placed next to his feet, making you cock your head to the side in confusion and amusement.

"...who's this?"

there was a slightly sheepish look on his face as he picked up the carrier, rubbing the back of his neck. you reached for the animal carrier, seeing a tiny black kitten inside of it.

"uh, surprise?" drew let out a sheepish chuckle, looking between you and the animal you were currently letting out of the animal cage, the black lump of fur letting out a mewl, her nails clinging onto the door of the carrier, clearly eager to be let out, "she kept cuddling me. and, uh, i know you've been talking about getting a pet, since you're always lonely when i'm away shooting or doing press and you pretty much just work from home, and i thought... why not?"

you watched as the tiny kitten tentatively stepped out of its carrier, immediately making a beeline to drew, not even caring about exploring her new surroundings, letting out soft meows as she tried to climb onto your boyfriend's lap, only for drew to have to pick her up and place her there, his long finger carding through her black fur. "damn, so you decided to bring a new girl home, huh?" you chuckled.

"are you mad?" drew asked, picking up the tiny kitten and holding her up next to his face, a pleading look on his face, making you roll your eyes as you gently smacked his knee, making him laugh.

"i'm not mad. you definitely should've talked to me beforehand. but i can't be too mad at her, she's way too cute." you said softly, slowly bringing your hand close to the cat, letting her smell your hand to get her used to your scent, "though she clearly has a favorite already."

"she clearly has great taste," drew grinned, "so, what should we name her?"

BONUS:

yourname

🩶 Liked by drewstarkey and others yourname welcome to the family susuwatari (just susu for the cool and cute cats) 🐈‍⬛ Comments are off. 22 November

drewstarkey

♥️ Liked by yourname, madelyncline and others drewstarkey 🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ View all 4753 comments 22 November

[cxrsed-angel]

Once Bitten and Twice Shy

Jackson!Joel Miller x fem!Reader, 18+

summary: Joel is uninterested in holdiday festitvies until he reunites with a familiar face who loves to spread the holiday spirit. Alternatively, Joel the Grinch is reunited with his Martha May Whohiver.

wc: 4k

warnings: Jackson!Joel, unspecified big age gap, smut (unprotected piv sex), fingering, a bit angsty, (sad and lonely old man Joel) the timeline kinda doesn't make sense but its not that important so just ignore it.

a/n: Here's a holiday fic for my last fic of 2024 <3.

Joe hated this time of year. The twinkling of Christmas lights decorated on almost every home and roof in Jackson, lights decorated around light poles, bows around the light poles. The community hosts holiday events for the children, people putting up their homemade holiday decor, and the whole town covered in snow, making it look like a scene from a Christmas movie. It's a time that’s supposed to be joyful, cheerful, and merry, but it was never that for Joel. Not since ‘03, Christmas hasn't felt happy around this time of year. It was always filled with pain, regret, memories he couldn't seem to forget, and mourning the things he’d never experienced.

At first, Christmas and the holiday season, in general, were hard for him after he had lost Sarah. He couldn’t help but think about all the times he had gotten her letters to Santa she had written when she was 3 and 4 or when she was “subtly” hinting at something for Christmas when she got too old for Santa. Or the time she saved up money to buy him a cologne and a new tool belt with the help of Tommy.

After that day, the day he lost her, he ignored anything having to do with the holiday, and this time of year, which wasn't hard to do in QZ, there’s barely any holiday spirit or festive decor, but that was increasingly difficult until he met you. You had gotten paired together for a run because Tess was sick, and ever since then, you were something he couldn’t shake, and you grew closer. For the two and half years he knew you, you had made the Grinch’s heart grow three sizes. He’d never say it, but you'd had let him allow himself to enjoy this time of year.  

You always hung up whatever festive Christmas decorations and winter decor you could find all over your shitty FEDRA apartment. Joel tried too hard to fight it, but the more time he spent with you, the harder that was. He often joked you were one of Santa’s last remaining elves on earth. He spent two Christmases with you. He remembers helping you hang up whatever you couldn’t reach.

“Joel… can you help me hang this nail.. it won't go into this shitty door!… he sees you holding the red, green, and white wreath you had found somewhere, trying to mount it on the shitty, broken, falling apart apartment door. “well I think you need might wreath hanger sweetheart…” he sees confusion flash across your face but only momentarily,” I can't just hang it on a nail…” Joel sighs before taking the wreath and hanging it up. He pretends he doesn’t enjoy your holiday spirit like he doesn't get happy when he hears the records and CDs of whatever holiday music you could scrounge up, like he doesn’t look forward to seeing your festive apartment every time he visits you. 

But that was before. Now, he can't stand the music, the smell of holiday baking, and warm homemade candles. Ellie would joke and call him the Grinch or Scrouge, but that was when Ellie talked to him. Now, he’s lucky if Ellie glances in his direction. But he had no one now, and he could spend time with Tommy and Maria, but since the baby had arrived, it had been hard for him to see Tommy as a dad. Luckily, Tommy knows his brother and tends to give him things to work on to distract himself, especially after he and Elie drifted apart. 

Tommy comes into Joel’s workshop. He sees Joel working, an old Linda Ronstadt CD playing barely audible due to the sound of Joel's woodcutter. Tommy bangs on another table lightly, grabbing Joel’s attention. He stops the woodcutter, looking up at his brother. 

“If it’s about the broken window for Mrs Anderson, I'm working on it,” Joel mutters from behind the woodcutter, starting it again but stopping when Tommy speaks again. 

“No...no, it's not about the window. I need you to do me a favor. Can you show someone to her place? She just got here; it's house #40. I would, but Maria is doing some town stuff, and I gotta watch the baby.” 

Joel sighs, taking off his protective glasses and trading them for his regular black-framed corrective lenses. He moves away from his woodworking table, looking at his younger brother with an unsatisfied stare.

“Now?” Joel grumbles under his breath, obviously annoyed.

“Yes, Joel, now... please,” Tommy asks, begging. He knows that asking Joel to do anything he didn’t want to do after November was a challenge. But Tommy really didn’t have anyone else, and Joel happened to be the closest person to ask for help. 

Joel once again lets out a sigh, once again showing his reaction to being unconvinced. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but now, whenever he's near the front gates, near the most decorated parts of Jackson, it gets hard to breathe. He gets the aching feeling in his heart. He thinks of you more and more, and he wonders if he made a mistake. He starts getting up to follow Tommy out of his shed.

 “Wow got a lady waiting in the snow? Such a gentleman, Tommy.” His voice full of sarcasm as he looks at his brother. 

Tommy lets out a small chuckle, rolling his eyes at Joel’s sarcasm, choosing to ignore it. “After this, you can go back to your woodworking hole for the rest of the day, I promise. It's just one girl; she should be waiting by the front gate. It should take a few minutes. Just be nice and welcoming, and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the month.”

“Rest of the damn year,” Joel mutters under his breath, putting on his brown jacket, hat, and gloves, preparing to brace the snow and cold weather. “Gotta be a damn welcoming committee in fucking below 30-something-degree weather,” he mumbles as he walks out of the shed.

Tommy rolls his eyes yet again, hearing Joel's comment, before going in the opposite direction towards his house. As Joel walks down towards the entrance, he sees the decorations filled along Jackson's main road. His thoughts immediately go to you. 

I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye. 

Joel tried his best not to fall for you. He couldn’t love you. Not just because he was afraid of losing you but because you were too young and didn't need his baggage. But that got harder the more time he spent with you, and it worsened around December. Your cheerful smile was contagious. Hope gave him something he hadn’t felt since before the outbreak. Hope. Hope for a future with you. Even if it was in the QZ, you made it look brighter and more positive than it was. It made him love you; if he loves you, it's only a matter of time before he fails you.

One way or another, he can't lose you. Losing Sarah still felt fresh and recent, not 20 years ago. He doesn’t know if he could handle losing you, too, especially because of him. But Joel knows he can't hope, not in this world. It's easier to push you away and make you hate him. When Joel felt these feelings, he did the one thing he knew how to do: create distance. He went from seeing you multiple times a day to maybe once a week. Barely talking to you, he stopped kissing your lips and touched you less, but you still found a way to be around him. You still held his hand, sleeping in the bed next to him. 

“This…ain’t working.” Joel sighs, looking down still. Your back is turned, trying to warm hot chocolate; you managed to persuade him to get on one of his smuggling runs, up on the shitty stove in the QZ. An Ella Fitzgerald Christmas album playing on a CD occasionally having to skip a song cause of its skipping. 

“It's a paper snowflake, Joel. What are you talking about? How hard can it be? If you don’t want to do it, you don’t.” You sound confused but are still focusing on the stove.

 Joel sighed again before looking up at your back. “I ain’t talking about the damn snowflake.” 

It's the tone of his voice that causes you to turn around, the sense of dread in his words, the way he seems almost scared to say them. You turn, looking at him, and he can't even look up to make eye contact.

 “Then what are you talking about, Joel.” 

Joel finally looked up at you, and you knew exactly what he meant wasn't working, "Us. This. Whatever this is, it ain't working.” He got up from the small round wooden dining table.

What do you mean this isn't working? It's been working fine for almost two years, Joel!” 

“Well, it's not working anymore.” 

You look at him before taking the attempt at hot chocolate off the stove, last thing you needed was a fire, but you go back to looking at him for any explanation or further clarification about why this wasn’t working out for him when it felt so right for you. But he never offered one. 

“I can't. It's not….working,” he says slowly, tired. Joel pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows this isn’t easy, but Joel cannot do this anymore. He can't let himself get attached to you. He convinced himself it would be easier in the long run.

He never said anything else. All he did was leave you in your apartment. Leaving you speechless and heartbroken. After that, Joel avoided you, or you were avoiding him, but each day, he saw you less and less until around the first week of January, when he noticed he hadn't seen you around at all. He asked around, even bribing FEDRA guards, and finally, one told him that you had escaped and left town with a group of a few other women. Joel had the realization that he’d probably never see you again. He knew you were strong and capable, especially if you had a group. He wasn't worried about you dying, but he had to kill you off in his brain to move on. Because if you weren't dead, then it gave him hope. 

Losing Sarah felt like strike one for him. The first time he felt his heart became cold and isolated, he lost the ability to smile, laugh, and even care. Until he met you at the QZ, it was hard not to smile around you. For the first time, he felt genuinely happy near you. He enjoyed your presence, the jokes you’d make about his age, and the warmth you brought back into his life. Then he ruined it and messed it up again like he failed Sarah. He failed you and lost it all again. Then Ellie brought it back with her jokes and outlook on life. Then again, he lost it. After that, he decided to give up and live the rest of his life in Jackson, mainly alone. 

Joel finally reached the front gate but didn't see anybody waiting. He looked around until he saw a figure in the barns, near the horses.

 “Tommy’s bright idea of leaving a girl out damn in the cold. Forcing me to be the goddamn welcoming committee, Jackson is small, but it ain't that small. Tommy could've found someone to do this…” He mutters to himself as he approaches the barn. 

Snow crunching under his boots causes you to jump at the sound, accidentally scaring you. He sees the girl turn around and instantly recognizes you before you remember him. He sees your eyes still shining, still young, still….hopeful. Not much has changed physically, but at the same time, he can tell something changed. 

Tell me, baby, do you recognize me?.”

It has been 3 years since you left the QZ since he had broken your heart and made his own even colder. He doesn't know what to say and realizes you don't even recognize him. His hair is longer and grayer now than it was. He has more wrinkles and glasses now. Probably put on more pounds now, having access to meals more consistently, not going on runs,  and having to walk miles every day. He can only imagine your thoughts on why this old man was looking at you in such a way, almost on the verge of tears. 

You reach a hand out to greet him and introduce yourself, hearing your name for the first time outside of his head in years, but he doesn't speak. He knew his voice would give away who he was, and he was scared of your reaction. He didn't know if you would be happy to be reunited or slap him because of the last time you spoke. He takes a deep breath before looking at your hand and then back at your face. Three years later, you didn't change much. You still looked just as beautiful to him as you did those years ago. 

“We…um... have met before.” He speaks slowly, knowing that once you hear his voice, you’ll recognize him. 

The second you hear his voice, you suddenly recognize the man in front of you, and shortly after, all the memories return. Memories of sleeping in Joel’s apartment in the QZ when you would get nightmares, memories of him teaching you how to properly shoot in the woods, memories of the first time you had kissed him. Memories of him ending whatever you two had back in the QZ. It all came back flooding your mind. You didn’t know what to say, react, or feel. You look at him for a bit, unsure what to say, so you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Joel? You have….um, you have glasses... Now. .” Those were the only words that came out of your mouth, the only sentence your brain could make. He let out a small laugh, happy you didn't slap him and cuss him out. He reaches for the frames. “Yea. It got hard to read tiny fonts, so… found a pair of readers, and there's an old eye doctor here,” Joel says painfully awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do next. A part of him wants to pull you into his arms and apologize for being an idiot all those years ago. More than anything, he wants to kiss you and tell you that he loved you then and never really stopped. 

“Well, um, I can show you to your new place.” He walks you over to the smaller houses since it's just you. 

“So, how long have you been here.” You ask as the two of you continue to walk in the snow. “About not that long, El- um, I had a girl I had to look after, but she’s an adult now and doesn't need me anymore, but it's safe, so I decided to stay.” Joel walks down, noticing the holiday decor. He can't help but point it out. 

“Bet you’d fit right in here and come at the perfect time.” You nod, agreeing, taking in the town's scenery, the lights, the homemade decor, and the children’s drawings, and you smile a bit. 

“Wow, it’s really pretty, much nicer than the QZ. You must be like a Grinch up on top of the mountain around here, huh? " Your joke makes Joel feel at ease. He laughs, looking at you, feeling like no time has passed. He walks further, approaching his house, snow covering the roof, absent of any lights or holiday decorations that the other houses in Jackson have.  

“No, I…join in…occasionally.”  Joel replies very unconvincingly, which makes you laugh as he opens the door, letting you in. 

“Sure, I bet you join all the festivities, Joel.” He leads you into his house, which looks how you would imagine a middle-aged man living alone to look.  You stand a bit awkwardly in his living room, unsure what to do or say, and find it hard to believe Joel was in front of you after all these years. “But if you kissed me now, I know you’d fool me again.”

You don’t know who started it, who leaned in first, who kissed who first. It feels like both lips were drawn to each other like magnets. Joel places his hands around your lower back as you close your eyes. His kiss immediately feels like home, safe and warm. Joel pulls away softly. He looks at you, afraid, like he was dreaming. You look back at him, just unsure. You were half expecting him to say something similar to what he said all those years ago, that he couldn’t do this again, yet your lips clash against each other, messily and desperate for each other. Your hands came to his face, holding his greying beard and pulling him as close as possible. 

He lays you down on his bed, hovering over you, kissing down your neck, pulling your shirt over your head, temporarily removing his lips from yours to take off your shirt. You shift, taking off your old sports bra you’ve had since God knows when. Joel feels what you’re attempting to do. He pulls off it, over your head, before his lips return to yours again. Your hands reach, grabbing up to his brown and grey curls.

“Joel….” you moan on his lips. His hands travel up your chest grabbing, squeezing your boobs, making another moan slip. His hand runs down to your stomach, down to your clothed core, rubbing it slowly.

“Joel, I've missed you so much.” He looks down, nods, and softly raises his hand to your face. He looks at you, and you can still tell he’s hesitated, nervous, even scared. 

“I've missed you too, more than you could know.” He kisses you again, but you pull away, sitting up a bit. He takes off his jacket, tossing it somewhere. His green flannel is next. You start unbuttoning it, but you feel his hands on your wrist, stopping you. Your eyes meet his.

“What…” You look confused as to why he stopped you. He had taken your pants off and wanted to have sex, or so you thought. You look at him, waiting for him to say something, but he never does.

“What, Joel? do you not want to-?” Your eyebrows frown, anxious, worried you had read into something. You had misunderstood. But he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. 

“No, I do. I do. Believe me, I do. It's just been a while since we’ve…since you’ve seen me?” Joel tries to explain, but you still don’t see the problem.

“Okay, but we did have sex back at the QZ….many times, so.. I did see you shirtless. What's wrong?” You sit up fully in his bed. Joel sighs, moving off from on top of you and sitting beside you.

“Yeah, well, that was years ago…when I was probably a few pounds lighter, sweetheart.” You suddenly realize what’s wrong. 

You raise your eyebrows, confused. “Seriously, Joel… you really think I’d judge your body because you're actually getting hot meals daily?” Joel looks at you, and your hands go back to the buttons on his flannel. This time, he lets you. 

“I'm serious, Joel. I really don't give a shit…about any of that.” You reassure him as you push his flannel off his shoulders, seeing the white t-shirt underneath it. Your hands go to the bottom of the shirt. 

“I'm just glad I found you again, and you’re not injured or…” You take a deep breath, thinking about the worst-case scenario. You lift the bottom of his shirt, and he helps you remove it.

He nods as you take his shirt off and kiss his chest. “Just glad you're safe, Joel. I don’t really give a shit if you look a bit different.” 

He lays on his bed, pulling you down on top of him, kissing you, his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“Glad you’re safe too, babygirl,” he speaks softly in between kisses, his voice is deep.

He reaches between your two bodies, unbuckling his belt and tossing it aside. Your hands goes to his jeans, unzipping them and tugging them off. Joel kicks the jeans off the bed. You feel his cock through his boxer shorts against you. You look down seeing the sizable bulge, you can’t remember if he’s always been this big, but he looks very big. Borderline massive, honestly. 

“Did your dick..grow, or is my memory just that bad?” you ask Joel. He laughs a bit, thinking you’re joking. But you’re not trying to rack your brain to remember if he’s always been this…thick.

 You hear him chuckle a bit. “Last I checked, it was the same, sweetheart.” you reach your hand on the waistband, slowly pulling his boxers down his thighs, watching his hard cock spring onto his stomach.  

Joel's larger hand reaches over yours, guiding it to his cock to jerk him off. You kiss his lips as you move your hand a bit faster. Joel moans against your lips before he moves away. Joel slowly tugs your underwear down your legs, and you kick them off, watching him grab the fabric off, tossing it with the gathering piles of clothes forming onto his bedroom floor.  Joel moves his hand off of his cock 

“Sweetheart, can I fuck you? Please, honey, I gotta be inside you.”

Joel slowly inserts his fingers inside you, feeling the wetness. His fingers curl up, fucking his fingers deep inside. Your head goes back against his pillow, feeling his finger's pleasure in ways yours haven't been able to, reaching places that you haven't been able to reach since you left. His fingers are larger and thicker than yours, making your eyes roll back. You moan out his name, missing the feeling of his name on your lips. You nod repeatedly. 

“ Please. Please. Joel. Please fuck me. I need you.” You moan, grabbing his arm as he thrusts his fingers deeper inside you. 

“Yea? Want me to fuck you.” His fingers slow down, and he presses his nose against your neck. You nod again, letting a moan slip out as he kisses down your neck. 

He moves his fingers, moving you closer and slowly pushing his thick cock inside of you. Slowly pushing the tip of his dick further inside.

You've slept with Joel numerous times in the QZ, he’s fucked you more than he can count, but this was different. You feel him slowly thrusting deeper inside you. Your nails dig into his back as you he fucks you, his cock reaching deeper inside you. This was passionate and slow. The making love you’ve read about. 

” Joel.. Joel. You feel so good.” you moan, feeling him fuck you deep and hard but still slow, like he was savoring, enjoying this moment.

“Missed you, baby. Missed you so fucking much thought I… 'd never see you again.” he looks at you watching your face frown, scrunching up in pleasure. Your eyes close, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. He doesn’t want to miss a moment, miss any more time of being with you, seeing you, touching you. It feels like no time has passed. He still knows your body like the back of his hand. Your moans fill the room. He’s memorized by you. he feels as if he closes his eyes, he’ll open them, and you’ll be gone, that this was a dream.

Your eyes flutter open, and you look up at Joel, pulling him closer. He looks down at you fucking deeper inside, and you feel the pleasure building up until you reach your release gripping onto his shoulders, your moans grow louder. 

“So close. Please, Joel, wanna come. Wanna come with you.” You whine, pleading with Joel as he fucks you deeper, nodding.

“Can tell you’re close, baby. Look so pretty like this full my cock.”

 He reaches between the two of you, rubbing your clit until you cum, moaning, crying out his name loudly. Joel is glad he didn't have any neighbors close enough to hear.

“Joel! Joel!” Fuck!” Joel watches are you come undone on his dick, the prettiest sight he’s ever seen. His thrusts speed up, not far behind you. Surprised he even lasted this long, considering he can't remember the last time he had fucked anything that wasn't his hand. “Where you want it darling,” he grunts between his moans. You barely register what he’s asking you properly fucked out. You whine at the overstimulating sensation of his cock fucking your sensitive hole. You open your eyes, looking up at him. 

“Inside…please, Joel want it inside me.” Joel uses every inch of his restraint to not come to the sound of your words, your begging. He shakes his head no. He had no intention of becoming a father of a newborn again in this lifetime, especially at this age. 

“You know I can't.” You whine, disappointed a bit, minds still a bit foggy from your orgasms. You look at Joel. 

“Don’t care, Joel.” He nods again, thrusting a few more times, moaning more before pulling out, cumming onto your stomach. He breathes heavily, looking at you, and he slowly moves from on top of you going to his bathroom. He grabs a towel, cleaning you off before joining you back in his bed. You instantly move closer, laying against his chest, and he puts an arm around you, kissing your lips once again. He looks at you for a bit before breaking the silence. 

“I love you.” The second he says those three words, you feel the air come out of your lungs. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond. You look at Joel, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes. He was telling the truth. You look back at him, trying to start your brain back up. You smile, nodding, knowing how hard it must’ve been for him to say those words. God knows it’s probably been 20 years since, yet here he was saying it to you.

“I love you too, Joel. I always have. I have never stopped.” You look back at him. He softly kisses your lips.

“I think they’re having hot chocolate and cookies or something in the square, " Joel says nonchalantly, sounding uninterested. Looking at you, he pauses before continuing. Maybe even an old holiday movie or…something like that.”

You can't help but smile widely as he mentions the holiday activity going on in Jackson. Was Joel actually mentioning something holiday-related?

You look at him, still smiling. “If you want to ask me, old man, you gotta say it.” You tease. All he manages is an eye roll before sighing. 

“Would. You like to. get hot chocolate and watch an holiday movie sweetheart.” joel asks cracking a smile as his hands rubs your back softly. 

“I'll give it to someone special.” 

[jarl-deathwolf]

I figured that was exactly the case - no matter the language, one does not simply call oneself Bardic Truth by itself! Although she is supposed to be one of (if not the) greatest bard of her generation, she has too much respect for the craft to just name herself "The Muse." I ended up giving her a place name attached afterwards, which also serves to tie her closer to the very legend she will be living. A nice reference and five second foreshadowing.

Its the exactly that trend of non-Welsh people making her almost a cryptid type being that stopped me from using her in the first draft. I intended for her to be more of a jovial trickster spirit, but even so I wanted to be sure I wasn't furthering a bad trend before I put the scene in.

Honestly I really love the idea of multiple Mari Lwyds with only one as the real one - probably the one that is actually really good at the competition. She's slowly drinking the village dry of booze when our bardic hero steps up and bests her through wit.

Ooo, very interesting with the seasonal names. It'll be a trick to work them in since the convention I'm working with is that everyone is speaking Fellish (Fantasy Welsh) by default in this story, and I specifically note when people switch to other languages. It is still good to know, though, and having the option available gives me more to work with. Naturally the English over there trying to get out of paying their rain dues. I might need to look up some of those bridge faerie stories (presumably there'd be some in the ebook you sent me), if only to give Llywela another opportunity to prove her cleverness.

That's a very good point with the instrument crafting! Llywela's crwth is locally made, of course, but I could see Fellish harps and lyres and flutes being prized beyond its borders. The waterfall tradition especially grabs me - its got a mystical quality to it that gels well with the magic system of the story. I'm familiar with the river fuckery. Straightening out the Mississippi has done pretty much the exact same thing over here, especially lately. There was a pretty good sized town that was half wiped off the map not too far from me - a decade later and they are *still* recovering. I'm noticing that the natural disasters seem to mostly stem from land (and river) mismanagement, which brings me to the next question. A major antagonist faction in the story are the Marcher Lords (or just Marchers) - foreign nobles that were awarded land in the Fells for their role in the Conquest.

They tend to see their authority over their part of the Fells as a means to gain power and wealth in more "important" lands. As a consequence, they are doing all they can to rip what wealth they can out of their slice of the Fells to fuel these gambles.

This is intended to be contrasted to local rule - especially by the reborn Arthur - which is centered more on proper care of the land.

So the question is - What does that look like? What are some traditional and effective means of land management (woods, rivers, hills, etc)? What would it look like on a local level (villages), and on a higher level (kings and chiefs)? You mentioned the moorland controlled burning of heather as one such thing

As for the Marcher (mis)management... unfortunately that is pretty easy to imagine. Chopped down swathes of woods, emphasis on deep mining, Highland Clearances style evictions and overgrazing (admittedly, more of a Scotland thing).

As a heads up, I'll probably send any more questions I have through an ask since this post is getting pretty long even with the read mores. I believe I saw someone in the notes call this the 'Do you Like the Color of the Trees' post

Hi hello! I'm writing a story in my original world, set in a Fantasy Wales. A King Arthur Returns type story, if that matters.

I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Welsh ecology? And possibly also some cultural details?

Thanks ahead of time! And I understand if you decline or don't respond!

YES OH MY GOD YES HELLO

[entitled-fangirl]

Rumors and the bastards of one Aegon Targaryen II.

Aegon Targaryen II x wife!reader

Summary: Aegon spent his time on the Silk Streets; rumors always spread. When Aemond encourages the truth of one, Aegon's wife is mortified.

Warnings: brothels, alcohol, being drunk, rumors, miscommunication

A/n: I am an Aegon hater BUT listen listen listen- I hated the fighting pit allegations with his "bastard children" that the twins talk about in the show. Do I think he had bastards? YES. Do I think he did all that? NAH. Also- this was supposed to be based on an ask but I may write another one with that ask cause I don't think I did that part justice

Masterlist

.....................................................

His wife was not a useless woman who spent her time doing deemed "meaningless" tasks like embroidery. She was well studied, and well spoken. She was not pushy. Alicent would never have let a woman control her son like that. But she found easy ways to state her thoughts while still being considerate to her husband. 

A woman like that felt like one of a kind.

Aegon knew that in his mind. Somewhere deep down. 

But he didn't change his habits when she came around. He still spent some of his nights in the streets of King's Landing, causing trouble and problems everywhere he went. 

Everyone knew of Aegon's "night adventures," though none talked of it. It was not something you bring up during a council meeting or spoke of in the corridors.

…

After a particularly long night out, Aegon rolled over in his bed, covering his eyes as he cringed at the sunlight streaming throughout his room.

This is why he didn't want to be king. Duty awaited him.

He was reminded that with the insistent knock on his door and his servant reminding him of the council meeting only minutes away.

He yawned, groaned with a stretch, and stood to slowly dress himself.

He could take his time, after all. No meeting started without the king.

…

Now a little more conscious, he entered the council room with a creak of the large doors. It earned the attention of everyone at the table.

Criston sat at the King's right side. The queen dowager was next to him and Aegon's wife after that. Aemond at the end. The table went round with others as well, but none were as connected in the king's life as those four. 

Y/n had always gotten along with Aemond. When Aegon was off sullying the Targaryen name, she spent time with Aemond in the castle's large solar, studying quietly alongside him. Different topics, but the shared silence was comforting.

And Aemond almost felt a guilt when he looked at her. Especially today when her husband entered the council meeting late with a staggered step and a clear look that said 'I did things I shouldn't have last night.'

The council was quiet at first, the awkwardness eating any things they had to talk about.

But once the talk of war started, the two brothers began to argue and the council meeting had truly begun.

The queen stayed quiet, her eyes set on the table, her fingers fidgeting absentmindedly with her stone and its place at the table.

Aegon never really had his arse in his seat. He loved to pace. When the arguing grew to anger, he set his anger on anything that annoyed him, prompting him to once point out his wife's fidgeting. Her cheeks turned red and she forced her hands away from the table.

But soon Aemond stood as well, eager to point out his plan in their map. As he did so, he took the long path around, passing by his brother's wife. In his hand was his own stone, which he set on the table in front of her without even looking her way or slowing his pace. 

It rolled towards the edge of the table and she caught it, silently thanking his support.

He felt like he owed it to her for what he had done yesterday.

…

"I'll never understand," Aemond muttered, breaking the prolonged silence of their studying.

Her eyes never moved from her page. "Understand what?"

He rolled up the scroll he had focused on and set it aside. "Him. Being so irresponsible."

Their eyes met, and neither had to question who he was speaking of.

"He did not want this," was her soft reply.

"Neither did you. And still you defend him. You did not wish for a man who spends his time with ale and women rather than home and duty."

Her eyes softened as his words hurt her. "I am Queen of the Realm. Me. Anyone would kill for my seat. One woman of the millions here."

"That means nothing." His eye pierced hers deeply. The gaze of Aemond Targaryen, though only half the gaze of a normal person, was double in the way it would see right through you. It made even tough men flinch. He leans over his papers. "He should be here, spending his time with his wife so she may do her duties."

"H- He does," she tries to defend. "Sometimes."

"Right before he passes out from all he's drank." There's no defense for that. He was right. "My queen, it's not that he can't make heirs with you. He just doesn't with you."

"What?"

His eye darkens. "How do you fancy an adventure down the Silk Streets of King's Landing?"

…

The meeting was over with the wave of Aegon's hand, thank the gods, and they all stood to leave.

"Except you, brother. You'll stay."

Y/n takes her time leaving, seeing both brothers' eyes roam over her for a moment before she left them to talk.

…

She sat by the fire. Since she had lived here, the servants had all begged her to sit in chairs or sofas near the fire rather than on the hard floor directly in front of it, but none held the same feeling that she desired.

She always had a cloak or fur of some sort on the floor, a small nest of sorts always awaiting for her to come back to the flames.

She had asked for a needle and thread, struggling to embroider on one of her skirts as she tried to relieve stress. But she'd never really done so before and it looked messy and her hands were too gruff with it.

Aegon entered after a few minutes. He didn't knock. He never did.

His eyes took in the room slowly until they settled on her. He tilted his head and stepped further into the room until he could feel the heat of the fire. "Aemond doesn't know what he speaks of."

"Aemond only told me the truth. I don't see why you have to lie."

He shifts his weight. "I-I told him to stop meddling in your affairs. He's far too close."

She turns her head but doesn't look over her shoulder. "He's been kinder than… most."

That hurt Aegon more than he wanted to admit. "What did he show you? What did you see?"

She begins to sew faster, as if it's a quick sport. "Does it matter? You're the king. Your affairs are none of my bu-"

"-I want you to speak to me," he said with a desperate tone. "How can I keep a kingdom together if I cannot even communicate with my wife?"

"How many?"

His head tilted again in confusion. "How many what?"

She turned her body this time, pausing her efforts on the fabric to look at him. "How many of your bastards run around King's Landing?"

Silence.

This was not a comforting silence like the solar with Aemond. 

This was a silence that suffocated you.

Aegon tore his gaze from her face in embarrassment to look down at his shoes. Like they needed his attention over the woman in front of him.

She tried again. "How many, Aegon?" Her voice quivered with his name and it send sharp spikes down his spine.

When he dared to look back up at her, he saw unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

"I-" he stopped himself. What answer did she want? What answer did he even want? "I don't see how that's relevant."

His deflection forced a sob out of her. It was light and painful, a slow withering of her from the inside out. 

Aegon deemed himself useless when it came to tears.

His jaw went slack for a moment, his eyes just watching in slow motion as his stomach jolted. He blinked and shift his weight again. "I…. I d- stop doing that."

It was a ridiculous ask. They both knew that. But she turned away from him as if keeping it from his sight was enough. 

He watched her shoulders shake with each weep as her fingers tried to pull the needle through the fabric. He closed the distance more, now daring to kneel at her side. He had no idea how to comfort a situation like this. "You have never liked needlepoint," he softly pointed out.

It was a long while before she answered. Sniffle. "I have never liked you either. Yet here I am with both."

That forces him back to rock on his heels. She was quick and had a sharp tongue. It was thoroughly impressive- when it wasn't painful like this.

The only sounds that echoed in the room were her sniffles and the occasional clicks and pops of the fire in front of them. And her tugging of the thread through the fabric.

Finally, he spoke.

"Two."

Her fingers paused. "What?"

"I've fathered two bastards."

Her head snaps back to him, but he makes no hurry to look at her. The flames dance in his eyes as he stares off. 

"Only two?"

Aegon finally lulled his head to look at her. "Two."

"You sound sure."

"I am sure. I'm very sure." He reached up, wiping away a stray tear off her cheek. Once gone, he returned his hand to his lap, pulling at the skin around his nails.

"There are rumors about your bastards…a… at the fighting pit-"

"-Who told you those?" He said in annoyance.

She hesitated. "There were so many of them there. They had your hair."

"Most bastards here do. Does not make them mine." He sighed. "Do you ever think that perhaps I'm not the only Targaryen that has roamed the Silk Streets at night?"

"You're saying-"

"-I'm saying that they could be Daemon's. They could be my father's. They could be his father's, or his father after him. But they're not mine." His kind eyes set on her. "I won't be blamed for all of King Landing's problems. Only the ones I cause."

She set the needlepoint aside and rubbed her hands over her face. "I just wished…"

Aegon waited patiently for what she would say.

"I just wish you would spend more of your energy here. With me. You're forcing me to neglect my duty." She ran a hand through her hair. "I cannot take your mother's insistence again. She's relentless."

He sighed again. He loved to drink, and that usually ended with him stumbling into the brothel with the help of his friends. That was his release from this prison they all called 'duty.' But perhaps there could be silver linings in all of it.

He couldn't say no when he never gave her a decent try.

"Fine. I'll… hold back on the drinking. And the… the late nights. If it guarantees your happiness. I want to make you happy." It would be hard. No, it would be like torture to not drink as often, to not spent hours forgetting life and having to return to it with a headache a few hours later.

But she deserved a decent try from him.

"Thank you. And when I am with child, we can… access it all once again." She tucked a stray hand of his hair behind his ear. "Thank you. Truly," she added again.

"Of course," he smiled sheepishly. "Just promise me to never assume the trust of the rumors of King's landing. Just ask me. I've done awful things, but I'll admit them to you at least."

For once, she smiled. "That's easy enough. I never should have gone with Aemond last night."

"From now on, the streets will see little of their King and Queen," Aegon smiled back. With a hesitant stretch and groan, he stood. "I have petitions soon. Perhaps you'll wait for my return?"

She pushed herself up to stand, taking Aegon's hand when he immediately offered it. "Of course. But not here. I'll be in the solar."

His brows furrowed. "What's wrong with here?"

"If I have to pull that needle through fabric one more time, I will stab it in my eye." She said it with no emotion, and it caused a bright laugh to pull from Aegon's chest. 

She was witty.

Finally, she broke into a breathy laugh and moved to collect her things for studying.

He followed her for a moment, curious to see what she had before he left.

"In the least, Aegon," she spoke over her shoulder. "Think of the money you'll save when you're away from it all. Whores and drinks are expensive, I'd wager."

His voice was low in her ear as he stood next to her. "Darling, when you're King, they all beg to buy a drink for you. I haven't bought myself a drink in almost a year."

She shivered at his proximity and she spared him a glance- almost one of offense. "Then you spend it all on women?"

He shook his head as if it was a dumb thought. It was true that he spent a lot on the streets. But now that he considered it, no one had ever really asked where it went. The crown just provided it and that was that.

"Then where-"

He put a finger over her mouth. "There are two children with no father to provide for them." He tilted his head side to side, "Perhaps their mothers find themselves with… extra money from a donor of sorts."

Her eyes widened. And just as she opened her mouth to ask more, he walked away, leaving her to her thoughts.

How wrong she had been about King Aegon Targaryen II

.......................................

[ruruumin]

take my body back.

₊˚ ᗢ itoshi rin x childhood friend! fem! reader.

⤷ swapping bodies with isagi was not on his things to do, but loving you is.

this might have been either the worst thing imaginable, or the most humiliating. he is looking at himself in the mirror, eyes twitching. he brings up one hand to pull down the underside of his lower eyelashes. 

after crashing into each other during a practice game, isagi and rin had mysteriously swapped bodies. with stifled laughter from the rest of their team, they had to stay within the same infirmary until things settled down. ego chalked it up to being a very rare malfunction in their suits. while he works on a solution with anri, the two were dismissed from practices all together.

isagi was the more panicky of the two. he was looking at himself frantically in the mirror, shaking bachira by the shoulder in a frenzy. he couldn’t go home. not like this, he kept saying. even though isagi’s wish of being taller and physically stronger, he did not mean he wanted to be in rin’s body.

“what is so wrong with my body?” rin asks, albeit in isagi’s voice, coming off higher pitched and squeakier to his ears. 

“nothing!” isagi instantly shuts his mouth. he raises both of his hands, waving them around as he looks in all sorts of directions. being in the wrong body felt so weird. hearing rin’s voice come off as shy and embarrassed was the last thing on bachira and nagi’s bucket list. and god did they take pleasure out of their torment.

“its just that—how are we supposed to go back to our normal lives like this?” he confesses, scratching the back of his neck, “if i show up to my moms doorstep she’ll get the wrong idea!”

rin blinks slowly, a dull look casting over isagi’s body. “stop making such a big deal out of it. it’ll be fixed soon.” throwing a towel over his shoulder, rin is about to leave the locker rooms (in his body) before isagi reaches out to stop him.

“what about your girlfriend, what is she going to say?”

now this is the unfortunate reality. 

he has no idea how you will react to him going back home in a completely different body. and although you knew isagi in passing, he can’t just show up to your shared apartment like this. its a sick and cruel joke, he thought to himself. rin glances over to isagi with a hardened gaze.

him and his six foot body, long lower eyelashes and scowl are now being flipped inside out and upside down. seeing it as a different person and not just a reflection confuses him on unimaginable levels.

whatever he’s suggests next comes off like acid on his tongue.

.☘︎ ݁˖

you are shocked when you open the door. seeing two men, one of which is your boyfriend, and the other his rival, with opposite expressions. isagi is staring at you with a deep grimace while rin looks happy and relieved to see you. 

“let us in.” isagi, no, rin commands. 

“why is isagi here?” you ask, pressing your lips together as you step to the side. they shuffled out of their shoes, dropping them next to the cubby beside the door. “you should have told me if we were going to have guests over, i would have tidied up a little.”

rin’s eyes scans over your figure. you were wearing a plain t shirt and shorts, your hair was a bit of a frazzled mess, a clear sign that you had just woken up from your nap. he has half a heart to hug you right then and there, but touching you in isagi’s body is going to feel like poison. 

to his horror, you’re by isagi’s side, helping him take off his jacket. rin immediately reaches over to stop you, giving you a deadly glare.

“don’t touch him.” he warns.

this leads you to push him off to the side, frowning. “what are you doing?” in an accusatory tone, you peel off the jacket, “what has gotten into you, isagi? you used to be so polite.” 

“a-ah, well-” isagi bashfully looks away, “the thing is, i’m actually not rin.” 

“huh?”

rin pushes isagi away from you (god forbid he touches you in isagi’s body), huffing as he does so. feeling his chest through isagi’s hands is horrifically gross and he swears he will rip ego in half if he doesn’t find a solution quickly. 

after some short but confusing explanation from isagi, the two of them were seated on the couch while you stood over them. with a hand on your hip, you mumble something underneath your lips, trying to wrap your head around the strange phenomenon. 

“so my boyfriend is in...your body,” you point at rin’s body, dragging it over to isagi, “and you’re in rin’s body.” 

“that’s what we’re trying to tell you.” 

you flick rin’s forehead, causing him to deliver a sharp exhale, “this is your fault for not being more careful during practice matches. what happened to taking care of yourself? did it go in one ear and out the other?”

“of course not,” he huffs, brushing through his hair but noticing how much shorter it is now that he isn’t in his actual body. 

“this idiot over here was the one who got the yellow card.” 

“huh?”

isagi shoves a finger at rin, “you’re the one who rammed into me!” 

“can it!” 

the two of them start to bicker with one another. as serious as a head injury might be, you’re honestly flabbergasted seeing them together like this. it almost cracks a smile on your face when you see rin’s body soften. but you awkwardly clear your throat, breaking up the argument with a sigh.

“do you need a place to stay for the night?” you turn to isagi, “we can give you the couch to sleep on if you’re not comfortable going home right now. i think its the least i can do since rin has been so much trouble for you.”

before the man could protest at your words, isagi beamed with happiness and relief, “that would be great (name). i don’t want to overstay my welcome so i’ll leave tomorrow morning to see ego.”

“i can’t believe my rin rin can look this peaceful,” you say, swooning a little bit. 

“shut up,” rin claps a hand over your mouth, “all this nonsense is making me tired.” 

despite his harsh and seemingly cold words, you can read him too easily. the subtle touch on your shoulder is enough for you to decipher his wants, and what he wants right now is to unravel in your arms.

placing a hand on his lower bicep, you guide him into your shared bedroom, not before waving to isagi to tell him that you will fetch a warm blanket later. he nods and gives you few kind words. it makes you want to laugh at how obvious it was that they swapped bodies. rin can be polite to you, but never this polite. it makes the situation all the more entertaining when you feel your boyfriend drag you into your rooms.

away from isagi’s prying eyes, he is leaning his head against your shoulder, slowly exhaling. his chest moves up and down, shoulders racking down with shivers. you bring up one hand to pat him on the back, pulling him down from cloud nine. anymore of your warmth and he thinks he is about to sink into you. he has to hold back the urge to squeeze you because the body he is in is not his. 

its killing him inside how he wants to love you. 

you, his childhood friend and biggest fan, his light and first (possibly only) love. standing so cute and comfortable in front of him with eyes so warm it could melt his cold, popsicle-self into a pool of sticky wetness. he doesn’t mind that you aren’t dressed up. he thinks its even better, seeing you like this.

he doesn’t like how much shorter he is now. he used to be able to press a kiss on the top of your head with ease. now he’s...fun-sized, as he would put it. he lacks the arm muscles hes so used to having. he doesn’t have the confident suave he was born with (something you’ve always told was a birthright of the itoshi family).

it could have been worse, he tells himself. imagine he swapped bodies with igaguri or shidou. he would have thrown himself into the nearest river if he had to come home to you in shidou’s body. the thought alone makes him want to gag.

but with you in his arms, it makes his heart grow bigger. like the christmas grinch, he has finally found his happiness and the whimsical joys that come from being your boyfriend. its seriously killing him inside, he wants to kiss you with his own lips, hold you with his own arms, and carry you off into the distance in his body. 

you wipe away a string of tears that dribble down his cheek. he didn’t realize he was crying until he heard your gentle whispers. even though he no longer looks like sae, he misses his own body. he yearns to see the scowl on his face that he has grown to slowly love, only because you kept pressing kisses to his cheeks and dimples. he wants to see his hands on your hips, lifting you off the ground and onto the kitchen counters to hold you even closer to his chest, to kiss you at the same height.

he didn’t realize how much he has taken for granted until he was in someone else’s shoes. 

when you brush his, or isagi’s hair, he just wishes he could turn back the clock and kiss you stupid. steal the air from your lungs that he swore belongs to him, and him only. 

that night might have been the most strangest yet sweetest experience in the world. with isagi taking the couch and you and rin sleeping on the ground next to him (he didn’t want to sleep in an empty bed without you, and vise versa, he promises he wouldn’t let you be alone as long as he was here). 

hes holding onto your hand with his pinky, a subtle touch that sends warmth down his spine. even in a different body, you still love him.

and he loves you, so much that it hurts.

[madridfangirl]

Cricket with the Bellinghams

(Jude & Jobe Bellingham blurb)

'Should we ask her to play as well?’

Jobe asked Jude while nodding in Ananya’s direction. Jude finished setting up the wickets, then turned around to look at his girlfriend who was currently pacing around the living room while on a serious work call. On a Sunday afternoon.

‘She might go all can’t you see I’m dying out here and what makes you think I have time to spare for playing?’

Jobe nodded in support of his brother.

‘Yeah she shooed me away 10 mins ago for breathing too loudly around her.’

‘Exactly. On the other hand, she might go all feminist if we don’t ask her and be like so you assumed I can’t / won’t play just coz I’m a girl?’

Jobe nodded again.

‘Yup, can see that too. What do we do then?’

‘You ask her. She’s sweeter to you.’

‘Oh bollocks. You scared of your girlfriend bro?’

‘Talking about me?’

Both brothers jumped to find her standing right behind them. How did they not hear her come in to the yard at all?

Jude was a little tongue-tied wondering how much she had heard so Jobe decided to take the reins.

‘Just wanted to ask if you’d like to play cricket with us. If your work is done I mean.’

‘Oh it’s not done. It’s never going to be done till I burn that place down. Might as well play a bit.’

Jude scanned her closely - it didn’t look like she had heard much at all. He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

‘Wanna bat first?’

‘Sure. Gonna beat your sorry ass with it.’

Jude’s arm dropped from around her, as did his smile, while Jobe giggled behind the stumps. He could already tell this was going to go places.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me.’

‘You know Jobe and I used to play cricket in school right?’

‘And I’ve grown up watching it. What’s your point?’

While Jude was always fiercely competitive, he knew she was a demonic warrior when she wanted to be. This clearly seemed like that day. He still ranked himself far higher in skill, so he knew it would end the way he wanted it to.

‘Game on then.’

‘Yup.’

‘Not gonna go easy on you dove.’

‘Didn’t ask you to.’

Jobe looked between the two of them, wondering how a light fun-filled afternoon had completely turned on its head. What he didn’t know was that the couple had been arguing over small small things all weekend. The kind of fights where you won’t even know half way in what it really was about or where it started from. So what was happening right now didn’t just originate out of nowhere.

Jude counted the steps of his lineup and got in position. Though he had said no mercy, he still decided to bowl slow, just short of out and out underarm. Even with that he was sure he’d beat her. But at least it would look like a contest then.

He bowled the first delivery. She had all the time in the world to step out of her crease, catch the ball mid -air and hit it into the outfield.

It took Jude two seconds to process what he just saw, after which he chased the ball. By then she had taken two runs. Jobe hooted from behind the stumps, patting her on the back.

All mercy went out of the window then. Jude took a proper run and swung his arm fully for the next delivery. The pace of the ball and short length of this make-shift pitch made the ball go over her head for a bouncer.

She gaped and looked at him in horror.

‘That could have hit me.’

‘Please, that would have gone over Jobe as well.’

‘Tryna show off? Or intimidate me?’

‘Just taking the game seriously.’

He shrugged nonchalantly, which annoyed her even more.

‘Good to know there are a few things you still take seriously.’

‘Wait what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Just go back and bowl.’

‘Don’t mind if I do.’

Jobe wondered if he should leave them alone and let them sort out whatever the hell was going on here. But both would have given him dirty looks if he even mentioned that. So he stayed shut.

The next ball whipped past her shoulder. Jude just looked her up and down, before walking back for his run-up. The unabashed cockiness pissing her off. He had done that consistently last few days - just setting her off with this air about him.

Next ball came. Straight on her legs. She swung the bat with all her might but couldn’t connect it properly and the ball grazed her front leg.

‘OUT. That’s an LBW.’

‘Nope. That was a no ball.’

‘No it wasn’t. I was way behind my line.’

‘Rubbish. I could see from here it was a no ball.’

‘Jobe?’

Jobe looked between the piercing eyes of both.

‘Yeah I’m not touching that with a barge pole.’

‘Coward.’

They said together, then looked at each other to acknowledge their telepathic connection, corners of their lips threatening to twitch with a smile. But the game was still on and neither was ready to give in.

However, Jobe decided to call it quits and said his goodbye after making some lame excuse. He would rather vegetate in bed than be the go between for this sparring hot headed pair.

‘One final ball. If I get you out I win. If you score even 1 run you win. Else it’s a draw. Deal?’

‘Deal.’

Jude weighed his options. Anything above her torso would be risky, she wasn’t good with ducking or swaying in time. But blocking she was quite adept at, from what he had seen just now, so a clean bowled or LBW targeting the stumps would be the way to go.

He stood on his mark. Before starting his run-up, he gave her a final look, almost giving her the window to back out. But she was a woman on a mission today. To humble his sorry ass. No matter what it took.

He bowled the final delivery. It was on target. Right on her front leg. She tried to block well, just like he had predicted. But it was a straight LBW. Clear as day.

However, celebrating was the last thing on Jude’s mind because in her rapid attempt to block, the ball deflected off the edge and hit her on her index finger.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t make any sound. But the bat dropped from her hand immediately and she turned around, holding her finger tightly.

Jude ran to her and was in front of her in a few seconds.

‘Show me.’

It wasn’t a request. He didn’t leave any room for her to be a sore loser & act out. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her other hand away to take a good look at the finger.

Then, he moved it a little bit and on one particular angle she cried out in pain.

‘Sorry, had to check for a fracture. But it’s just a sprain. Wait here.’

Again, it wasn’t a request. Jude came back in record time with a first aid kit and a pack of ice. He applied a quick ointment to soothe the nerves, then covered her finger with an ice pack, keeping it there for 2 mins sharp.

‘Try moving it now.’

She did. And just like that the pain was gone.

She looked up at his concerned face with a half-smile.

‘All good.’

Jude stood there motionless for two seconds. She wondered if he had even heard her.

But then he grabbed her arms and pulled her in for a crushing hug, kissing her head and face all over.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry baby.’

‘It’s fine it was just a sprain and it’s not your fault.’

‘Ofcourse it’s my fault. I hurt you.’

‘Jude, it was an accident.’

‘You got hurt because of me.’

‘Jude, it’s fin…’

He grabbed her face, tilted it up and kissed her like his life depended on it. Her hands came up to his biceps for support.

‘Are you mad at me? And I’m not talking about just now.’

‘No. I mean, I don’t know.’

‘I don’t like us snapping at each other like this. It sucks.’

‘I know baby. It’s just…I don’t know….maybe it’s work…it’s just been super crazy and…..’

‘And sometimes I can be a lot to deal with yeah?’

He looked at her so earnestly that she couldn’t keep herself from giving him a genuine smile.

‘Sometimes. But I know I can be difficult too and it’s just……’

‘Shhhhh it’s ok, it’s fine.��

He pulled her close again, peppering kisses over the top of her head.

‘I know just the thing to let out some frustration.’

‘If you’re talking about sex you can stop talking. I’m still irritated.’

‘Actually that’s an even better idea. But what I had in mind was more like a punching bag. Have one in the gym.'

'That....is a surprisingly brilliant idea.'

He shrugged cockily, and she rolled her eyes at him.

'Wanna give it a go, then? Can show you some punches.'

'Yes pls. Maybe we can make it a thing. I sure might.'

'So long as you don't imagine my face while punching the bag it's cool.'

'We gotta do what we gotta do.'

With that, she turned around and walked back into the house. While Jude stood there a bit, staring after her. She was full of surprises, never a dull moment with her. And Jude loved it all.

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Was missing my babies so literally wrote this in 30 mins. Hope you like it :)