#slow burn romance with these two was an excellent call!

[twig-tea]

Thoughts on The On1y One Finale

Long story short: I did not like it. A romance narrative in which neither couple actually gets together, not even temporarily, is just not satisfying. Especially when we felt the time being wasted week to week near the end.

Not only did neither Sheng Wang nor Jiang Tian admit their feelings to each other--both think they're in a one-sided crush--but Jiang Tian can tell that Sheng Wang is pulling away and lying about it, and Sheng Wang is fucking up his future in order to keep away from Jiang Tian and manage his own feelings. But they still live in the dorm together, because they've promised each other to stay together through the year, and Sheng Wang knows he can't break that promise without wrecking Jiang Tian. I appreciate that Sheng Wang is finding ways to sabotage his own future cleverly, so that nobody can call him on it, without breaking the promises he's made [I stay on my competency kink train, always], but that is not a satisfying place to end a story.

Meanwhile Zhao Xi has finally had it confirmed that actually Lin Bei Ting [returns his feelings] has real feelings for him, and...we end there, again with no resolution.

Two sets of presumed one-sided crushes staying away from each other for internalized homophobia (and other) reasons, one as kids and one as adults, neither of which left resolved. That sucks!

Here's my thing. Beyond knowing that the show added this adolescent-feeling conflict to the teacher storyline [h/t @thisonelikesaliens] that dragged down the pacing of the show (I'm genuinely upset that they decided to take away the opportunity for queer elder content!), the back third of this show was circular, slow, and felt intentionally time-waste-y. I do get wanting to leave things in a place to encourage a drive for season 2 (I'm assuming, since the director has been telling people to ask for s2 as per @bluesuns3t), but I also expect folks to leave season 1 in a satisfying place within that constraint, and for me this was not satisfying. The only thing we resolved is that Sheng Wang knows he has feelings Jiang Tian, which is a realization he's had for at least the last 3 episodes in a row.

And like I said, where we left them is such an awkward place; Jiang Tian knows something is up and is upset about it. Are we supposed to believe this awkward tension is going to exist through the end of their high school career unchallenged? Even though they still live together in the dorm? With everything we've seen between these two?! We saw how he reacted the last time Sheng Wang put up an invisible barrier between them.

Without Season 2 confirmed, I have to judge it on what we got: 8 great episodes of Grade-A excellent slow burn romance mixed with yearning, well-handled family trauma, some excellent visual metaphors, and school being treated as high stakes (which feels right for kids this age), followed by 4 episodes of wheel-spinning, window dressing, and an ending that feels unresolved and unsatisfying.

Obviously I want season 2, but I am both not counting on it and less excited if we get one than I would have been a few weeks ago.

[helluva-hazbins]

Came for the amazing writing and portrayal of not only Lucifer but your other characters and stayed for the same reasons and just how much fun writing with you is :3 I’m really happy we’re writing together and chatting more! I’ve always wanted to but have been too shy to reach out ;w;

"It has been my absolute pleasure and joy, my sweetest~"

[zaczenemiji]

Curtain Calls and Curveballs I

Kenji Sato x Actress!Reader

Synopsis: In your high school years, you and Kenji Sato are fierce rivals, constantly competing for top academic honors and excelling in your respective extracurriculars. Little did you know, you rivalry would take an unexpected turn.

Word Count: 1,836

Genre/Warning: Coming of Age, Enemies to Lover, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn

Author’s Note: A lot of you have been requesting for an enemies to lover themed fanfic so here’s a two-part one made for y’all <3

MASTERLIST

“Anyone can pretend to be someone else.”

“Well, it doesn’t take much brainpower to throw a ball.”

How could you forget the feud that started it all? Your spot as a top-ranking student back in high school was suddenly disturbed by the arrival of a certain Japanese student.

You didn’t mind it at first, only perceiving it as a challenge that would lead to the betterment of yourself. You know, kinda like what they say—smooth seas never made a skilled sailor thing.

But little did the teen you know that Kenji Sato would become a force of a tsunami in your life.

The little frowns when one scored higher than the other on quizzes became a competition that was the backbone of your interactions—the core aspect of your enmity.

The two of you were naturally gifted students with too much competitive spirits. Your performances were closely monitored by peers and teachers who eagerly anticipated the next round of test scores to see who would come out on top.

Needless to say, your little rivalry became a show that everyone liked to watch—a TV drama that keeps them glued on the couch, and a baseball game that keeps them at the edge of their seats.

What started as frowns became bickers and a constant exchange of provocative teasing. A day at school wouldn’t be complete without exchanging sarcastic remarks with one another.

“Better not mess this up, (y/n). Wouldn’t want to lose those precious extra points,” Kenji said in one of your chemistry labs.

You rolled your eyes as you set up your titration apparatus. “Don’t worry about me, Kenji,” you replied. “Just make sure you know the difference between an acid and a base.”

Despite the academic rivalries, your favorite thing to one each other up on despite being on totally different sides of the scale, is your clubs.

With Kenji being the star of the baseball team and you the leading actress of the drama club, the two of you were set to speak at the pep rally to represent your respective team and club.

“And now, let's hear from our star pitcher, Kenji Sato!”

Kenji steps up to the microphone, flashing a confident smile. "Thanks, Mr. Principal,” he said. “Our team has been working hard, and we're ready to bring home another championship. Let's hear it for the baseball team!”

The crowd roared with approval. Sports enthusiasts loved Kenji and he is definitely the face of sports in your school. That’s one thing you couldn’t argue about. You’ve been trying to name a player better than him at school but unfortunately, there was none.

Kenji stepped back and the principal proceeded to introduce you, "Next, we have our leading actress, (y/n) (l/n), to tell us about the upcoming play."

You strode to the microphone, poised and charismatic. "Thank you, Mr. Principal,” you started. “This year's play, 'Romeo and Juliet, is a labor of love for the drama club. We've poured our hearts into it, and we hope you'll all come to see it.”

“Break a leg to the baseball team, and we hope to see some of you at the theater!" You added.

The crowd cheers again, though with less intensity than for Kenji. Kenji leaned over when you stepped back beside him.

“Break a leg, huh?” He whispered just loud enough for you to hear. “Isn’t that a bit risky for an actress?”

“It’s tradition,” you smirked. “Besides, I'd like to see you try and memorize Shakespeare."

Kenji laughed, "Maybe next time. For now, I'll stick to throwing strikes."

A week after the pep rally came Kenji’s game.

He winded up and delivered a fastball that struck out the batter, securing the win for his team. The crowd erupted in applause, chanting his name.

On his way to the locker room, he comes across you. He saw you in the bleachers earlier, watching with a critical eye.

“Enjoyed the show, (y/n)?” He asked, smirking.

“It was fine, I guess,” you said, rolling your eyes. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

Kenji chuckled, “Don't worry, I'll save a seat for you at the next game.”

"I'd rather spend my time watching paint dry,” you said, crossing your arms. “Good luck with that, though."

A few days after the game came the premiere of the school's production. Every time the curtains rose, you stopped out not as (y/n) but as the character whom you portrayed—Juliet.

After the final act, the audience gave a standing ovation. You took a bow, eyes scanning the crowd. At the back, you spotted Kenji clapping politely.

You basked in the praises of the director and your friends for the job you did well. As you exit the stage, you find Kenji waiting in the wings. “Not bad,” he said, raising his brows. “For a drama nerd.”

You smirked in return. “Glad you could tear yourself away from the baseball field to appreciate some real talent."

"I figured I'd see what all the fuss was about,” he chuckled. “You didn't disappoint."

"Is that a compliment, Sato?” You asked, eyes narrowing playfully. “From you?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Kenji shrugged. “Just calling it like I see it.”

At home, after the drama club’s play, Kenji told his mom about you. He told her about how good you actually were at acting. He planned on leaving mid-performance but you kept him glued to the spot he was watching from. He may or may not have ditched his baseball training that day.

“You seem to know her well,” Kenji’s mom commented to which he retaliated with “To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy.”

On the other hand, Kenji’s compliment played rent-free in your head. It overshadowed the director’s and the others’ compliments like they didn’t matter.

This situation went on for years in the span of time you spent in high school. Classmates and friends became used to the everyday sarcastic remarks and insults you hurled at each other.

What they didn’t know were the subliminal messages in every interaction.

They didn’t know about how Kenji often finds himself trying to perform exceptionally well whenever he knows you are watching. He’d throw an extra-fast pitch or make a particularly insightful comment in class, hoping to catch your attention.

They didn’t know that his playful teasing was a way to keep the banter alive to be able to engage with you regularly. They didn’t know that in a crowd of people, Kenji would always look for you. He watches your reactions to see if you’re impressed.

They didn’t know that you genuinely attended Kenji’s baseball games to see him do well. You’ll clap and cheer, albeit more reservedly than the die-hard fans, keeping your enthusiasm in check.

They didn’t know how you defend him from others, from those who would speak badly of him regardless of what he did. They didn’t know how you took note of his class attendance and lent him notes from classes he missed due to training.

The two of you did all these while outwardly maintaining the rivalry. Then one day, before you two knew it, graduation season was right around the corner.

One bright and sunny afternoon in the school gym, a large banner hung above reading "Graduation Ball Partner Reveal." Students crowd around a bulletin board, excitedly searching for their assigned partners.

This was one of the school’s antics to add some excitement to the graduation ball by randomly pairing students as dance partners. You heard other girls overtly expressing their wishes to be paired with Kenji.

With a grin, your friend turned to you, “Who do you hope to get, (y/n)?”

"Anyone who can at least manage to keep up on the dance floor,” you shrugged.

"I heard they really mixed things up this year. Could be anyone!" Another friend said.

When the crowd began to disperse, you and your friends made your way to the bulletin board. Scanning the list, your eyes widened as you saw your name next to Kenji’s.

“No way,” you muttered. “This has to be a mistake.” Just as you were processing this revelation, you heard a familiar voice behind you, "Looks like we're stuck with each other, (y/n)."

You turned to see Kenji standing there, a mix of amusement and surprise on his face. “Of all people, it had to be you,” you said crossing your arms.

“It’s not like I rigged the draw,” Kenji chuckled. “Why would I wanna be paired with you?” He asked like he didn’t want it.

As the night of the graduation ball drew nearer, the two of you agreed to be truces for one night.

A week later, there in the same gym, stood you at the edge of the dance floor. That night, the gym was a glittering wonderland, with twinkling fairy lights and elegant decorations that turned the mundane space into a ballroom fit for a fairytale.

“You look amazing, (y/n),” your friend nudged you. “Kenji's going to be blown away."

Scoffing, you replied, “If he even shows up.”

Just as you finished speaking, Kenji appeared, looking dapper in a sharp suit. He spotted you and made his way over, a confident smile on his face.

“Hey, (y/n),” he said. “You look… wow.”

You felt warmth rush to your cheeks as your heart began beating faster. All the earlier pettiness gone the moment you saw him.

"You clean up pretty well yourself, Sato,” you replied, barely a whisper.

Kenji extended his hand, a playful glint in his eyes. "Shall we?" He asked.

Taking his hand, you let him lead you onto the dance floor where you two fell into step, finding a rhythm despite the initial awkwardness.

“So, truce for tonight, right?” Kenji asked. You nodded, smiling, “Only for tonight.”

You danced in silence for a few moments, the reality of the situation sinking in. “I never thought we’d end up here dancing,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Neither did I,” you replied. “But maybe it’s not so bad.”

“You mean you’re actually enjoying my company?” Kenji chucked.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Don’t get used to it.”

As the dance continued, the tension between you two began to melt away. You two talked about your plans after graduation and for the first time, you saw each other as two people with dreams and aspirations; not as an obstacle in the way.

“I want to go pro. In baseball,” Kenji said. “I've got scouts interested, and I think I have a real shot."

Your eyes widened slightly. "A professional baseball player, huh?” You replied. “I can see that.”

“Thanks,” Kenji grinned. "It's been my dream since I was a kid. What about you? What's next for you after we toss the caps?”

"I want to be an actress,” you answered. “I've been accepted into a drama program, and I'm going to chase that dream as far as it takes me."

That being said, you two will most likely be going to separate schools in college. Or so you thought.

PART TWO

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@hismistresss @sweetangle8 @aerivina

@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Wild Hearts

In the idyllic English countryside, far from the hustle and bustle of the big city, two teachers at Willowbrook Hall set out to transform their students’ lives through the world of theatre. But for Mr. Crowley, the challenge of navigating his long hidden feelings and dear friendship with Mr. Fell may prove to be the greatest drama of all.

Length: 145,589 Words

AO3 Rating: Explicit/ Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, Human AU, Romance, Slow Burn

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by foolishlovers

*Minor Spoilers* Welcome to Willowbrook Hall, or as I like to call it, The Gay and Trans School for Gay and Trans Teens. Come meet professors Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley, and their colorful cast of teens as they spend the school year getting ready for the performance of a lifetime in the school play. This place has it all: hijinks, dances, costumes, drama, and best of all a cat.

What I really loved about this story was how cinematic it felt. Sure, some scenes intentionally reference a movie (Wild Child, so fun and camp!), but that's not what I mean. The whole thing plays out like a movie or its own TV show. We get big dramatic moments of romance and heartbreak, plus fun ones like a mini makeover, the school dance, and the play. And there is tons of subtle foreshadowing along the way that will make you jump up and down when things come to fruition. It's thrilling and engaging, and waiting for updates when this was a WIP was excruciating because I wanted to know what was going to happen next so badly!

The side characters especially are so much fun! I loved the kids and their side plots. Even though we don’t follow their story directly, we see enough to get hooked. Adam and Warlock are standouts, but they aren't the only ones I enjoyed! Honestly, I'd read a standalone from the kids perspective! The teachers are excellent too. I have a soft spot for Newt, who pops in now and then, always a sweetheart. Crowley could be in the depths of heartbreak and still manage a smile for Newt. All the teachers (plus Nina) don't feel like they're just there. I was interested in them, and you really get a sense of how much of a family they all are. It's a real skill to make side characters as interesting as the main duo.

Of course, the main attraction is Crowley and Aziraphale. They’ll make you fall in love with them all over again. They’re the perfect domestic couple well before they admit anything. So many lovely details about them, from note passing and bets, to their shared bond with Beethoven the cat (aka the best character ever). You'll experience everything with them: the highs of gender discovery and euphoria, and the lows of miscommunication and misunderstandings. What drama is complete without that? Yes, they’re a bit thick headed, and yes, a single conversation could have fixed everything. But where's the fun in that? I'm here for the drama! The pang of heartbreak and yearning makes the reunion so much sweeter! They are wonderfully characterized, and yet still have an air and life of their own. Unique to this story, but true to their characters.

You’ll be mostly safe reading this in public. There are a handful of explicit scenes but you should have enough notice to get away from prying eyes. The sex here is delicious and heart pounding! Plus the way that Crowley's gender fluidity plays into those scenes was very beautiful. There are so many reasons to love this story. It's engaging, cinematic, dramatic, funny, and romantic. This was an incredible achievement and I hope you have just as much fun and I did!

Read it here, fic by foolishlovers

[cannebady]

who are we to fight the alchemy

They've been taking it slow, which Blitz knows is necessary but also feels so fucking stupid considering they've had their tongues inside each other probably hundreds of times over the span of their agreement.

But after a truly spectacular round of competitive communication issues, they've settled on wanting to be something and in order for that to happen, apparently, both Stolas and Blitz have to spend some time with the heads on their shoulders calling the shots.

Based on Stolas's encyclopedic knowledge of all things shitty romance, "It's the proper way of doing things," and while Blitz couldn't give less of a single fuck about proper, he gives a nonzero amount of fucks (one might say a fuckton, in fact) about Stolas, so they've been courting or fucking dating or whatever and definitely not doing any kind of fucking.

It's gotta be at least partially karmic considering how often Blitz complained about fucking the bird. In all honesty he'd loved almost every second of that aside from the feeling like a plaything bullshit and it's fucking fantastic feeling seen and wanted and shit, but also so fucking hard (seriously, very. Fucking. Hard.) to be so close and unable to touch, and lick, and, well. Ugh.

Otherwise, though, it's been kind of nice. They have dinner a few times a week, and Stolas will bring him an iced coffee and lunch at IMP and then Blitz will take him to a shitty bar with M&M. It's fucking nice okay? He's never had nice before and now, suddenly, he gets long conversations about nothing and everything, and holding hands and fuck, okay, he's in love like a little bitch. It's just that Blitz just also kind of wants to fuck, ya know?

He feels a little like a dirtbag because Stolas is holding it together so fucking well. Based on his initial impression (and hands on experience) of Stolas as His Royal Unhinged Horniness, Blitz kind of figured he would've caved a while ago. He won't admit he'd been kind of counting on it; but it's been two months and to his internal horror and shame, it's Blitz who feels fucking feral. They sleep in the same bed, bodies entwined and while it's definitely the best sleep Blitz has ever gotten, it's keying him up and up and up with no release.

Just this morning he'd burned almost an entire loaf of bread trying to make toast because all he could think about was taking his stupid hot boyfriend back to his ridiculous bed to fuck him through his mattress. So there he stood, mortified, erect, and toastless while Stolas hummed and fed his giant toothy plants looking edible and sexy and Oh Satan it was becoming a fucking problem.

The other problem is that Blitz can't solve this the way he wants to. Or, rather, he doesn't want to solve it like that.

He could grab Stolas by the chain holding his starry cape on and stick is tongue down the bird's throat to kick things off, and he probably will do that when his patience runs out, but he's also started to fantasize a bit about a version of their dynamic that casts him with less of an emphasis on Dom and more as the qualifier of Soft.

Fuck.

He wants to do some sappy shit that involves caressing and no toys and maybe also sweet nothings whispered into Stolas's ear until his feathers puff out and his face is a mess of honey blush and desperation. Fizz would call it making love and he's right but also ew. Ugh.

Thinking about that definitely didn't make him less erect, so with a "Mornin' pretty bird," and a squeeze to a feathered thigh (fuck his bird has good thighs) he portals home to shower (because he can do that himself now which is fucking cool), give himself a hand, and then 86 a few human fuckers so he can get back home and remedy his dick problem.

By the time he gets home he's riding high on successful hits, Moxxie's fairly excellent espresso (not that he'll ever tell Moxxie that, he'd be insufferable), and the fire still buzzing in his blood from having someone to fucking waiting for him to come home (and not to kill him, for once).

He forgoes the front door and his shiny newly minted key to, instead, scale the wall to Stolas's bedroom because he wants to put the bird in mind of a sexy, sexy rendezvous and, once over the balustrade, is quickly hit with a wild turning of the tables.

Stolas is laid in the bed, not even his robe on his body for modesty sake, and is desperately trying to rub himself off. The air is humid and smells like sex and home and stuff Blitz was sure he'd never have and even if he hadn't been hard enough to cut glass for weeks, this visage would've done it alone.

Stolas's head is turned away, muffling himself into a pillow and Blitz can hear moans and aborted pleas stifled by cloth until he hears a loud groan that sounds an awful lot like his name.

Oh. Ooohh, fuck Blitz feels crazy. The last vestige of his self control was held by Stolas's own and if his pretty bird is as desperate as he is then who is Blitz to deny him?

He's gifted in stealth for his job and from years of precision movements honed in the circus, so he slowly disrobes to his boxers, only making his presence known when he's right next to the bed.

And fuck the vision is even better up close. Stolas's feathers are a fucking mess, like he's been writhing and edging himself for ages, just waiting for Blitz's hands and tongue and his fucking touch. Like he wants as much as Blitz does.

He clears his throat and four sanguine eyes snap to his, wide and shocked, pupils visible but the heat in them is fucking palpable. He climbs on the bed and leans over Stolas, letting his body touch as much of him as possible, fucking finally.

"Whatcha up to Princess?" he asks, pitching his voice low and rough the way he knows Stolas likes. The moan he gets in reply is like music to his fucking ears and a spark in his veins and there's a blazing inferno before he knows it.

He hums and bites at the feathered neck presented to him before grabbing both of Stolas's wrists and pinning them above the prince's head before speaking directly into his ear, "You lookin' to get split open pretty bird?"

Stolas's whole body shivers and he arches up so beautifully into Blitz that it'd bring tears to his eyes if his entire brain hadn't migrated to his dick and set up camp.

"Please," Stolas whimpers plaintively, legs wrapping around Blitz's hips perfectly, and how could he deny his bird anything?

"You get whatever you want tonight, baby, want you so fucking bad," he murmurs and kisses a flushed, feather cheek before applying himself, rather liberally, to pleasing his love.

[literatecowboy]

Dr. Feelgood

1. On Punishment

Read Part 2 Here Summary: You've been in trouble at work several times before for "lack of professionalism" but now you've gone too far. You've been reassigned to Task Force 141 as a temporary doctor to replace the ones they've made quit out of frustration. You must either prove yourself and earn your former position back at a prestigious military hospital in California or face dishonorable discharge. Author's Notes: This is my first fanfiction - please be gentle. Additionally, the reader's callsign is "Feelgood." I have done my best to write the reader as ambiguous regarding appearance, but she/her pronouns and AFAB anatomy will be utilized. I hope for this to be a slow-burn romance with Simon "Ghost" Riley. Warnings: Gunshot wounds, medical terminology and procedures, finger up the butt, new/unsure writer

-----

“Hey man, I don’t want to beat around the bush. I glanced at your x-rays earlier and I’m impressed by how far you managed to get that bottle up your ass. Next time I’d advise opting for something with a flared base though, alright?” you said, pulling up a swiveling stool to your patient’s bedside. He stared at you, mouth agape, his cheeks flushed. 

“Blockages are pretty serious and this thing isn’t going to come out on his own, so I’ll be taking you into surgery shortly, my team is getting a theater prepped and then the anesthesiologist will come back and we’ll get this show on the road. Will your daughter be staying here to wait during your surgery?” you asked, swiveling to look at the much younger woman sitting at the man’s bedside, holding his hand. The man in the hospital bed went fire-engine red. 

“She’s my wife!”

–

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was just trying to be concise. And mistaking the wife for his daughter is an honest mistake, she looked half that guy’s age!”

“Well then allow me to be concise - you’re lucky you still have a job. That “guy” is a very important man on this installation and speaking to him in such a disrespectful manner will not go unpunished, doctor.” Klein, one of the hospital administrators, said. The exhaustion and frustration were evident in his voice but he still stared you down with focused eyes. 

“He already has a new doctor and you’ve already taken me off of his case. I won’t have to see him again. Isn’t that enough? Are you gonna make me clean the medication fridges again?” you asked with a sigh, rubbing your forehead. You could feel a headache coming on. 

“You’re being transferred to–”

“What?! Klein, you know that’s a sweeping overreaction. Come on, I’ll even do a professional development training course or something.” 

“As I was saying, you’re being transferred to an installation in the United Kingdom. There’s a task force there that just had their doctor quit and–”

“Fucking England? What the fuck, Klein, you’re shipping me off to a different continent just because some asshole got offended?”

“You’ll temporarily fill in as their doctor until a permanent replacement is found. If, by the time that is done, you have found empathy and learned to hold your tongue, you will be welcomed back. If you have not you will be dishonorably discharged.” Klein finished. You sat frozen for a moment. 

“Who’s fucking idea was this?”

“The base commander you insulted thought it up. He believed it to be an excellent way to give you a taste of your own medicine.” Klein said. 

“Oh yeah, what? Think I can’t slap bandaids on soldiers?” you asked with a scoff, shaking your head and throwing back your seat as you stood up. 

“I wouldn’t be no nonchalant about this, doctor. Task Force 141 has had two doctors quit on them in the past year. From my understanding an intelligence agent put out a desperate call for a replacement more than two weeks ago and nobody has answered the call.”

“I’m not so easily discouraged, Klein, don’t worry about me. I’ll be back here soon enough anyway and it’ll be like I was never gone.”

–

Over the next handful of days, a military plane carried you across the pond with your belongings and delivered you into the jaws of Task Force 141’s home base. As the plane’s ramp lowered to reveal melancholy gray skies you felt mildly dejected that England hadn’t greeted you with the warm, sunny weather you’d been accustomed to in California. 

“Oh, Doc’s a lass!” a Scottish-tinged voice startled you out of your sudden fascination with meteorology and you glanced down, taking your first step down the ramp. 

“And you…aren’t English. But you are I take it.” You smiled hesitantly, scanning the faces of the two men in front of you. 

“And an American! Got any more surprises for us? It’s like bloody Christmas on this airstrip!” the one with the mohawk said with a grin. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“So you knew I was coming but don’t know anything about me? Some special forces you are.” you teased. 

“Price didn’t tell us a new doctor was coming until last night and wouldn’t let us snoop. Only said you go by Feelgood on the field.” the one in the hat said. 

“That’s me. Who’re you guys?” you asked, stepping the rest of the way off the plane and looking around at your surroundings. 

“I’m Soap, that’s Gaz. Price is our captain but he’s up to his neck in papers inside, you’ll meet him later. There’s also Ghost, but he’s out right now on a solo mission. Should be back tonight.”

“What does someone do to get that kind of emo kid calling?” you asked with a snort. Soap and Gaz glanced at each other. 

“Just…you’ll know him when you see him,” Gaz interjected. “Come on, we’ve been instructed to show you to your workspace and quarters.” The two lead you inside and through a maze of twisting and intersecting corridors, pointing out landmarks as they went. 

“Mess is back there, and so is the main gym. Laundry is to your right and take that door to head outside to the parade deck and practice range.” Gaz had explained with Soap jutting in to joke about the quality of military food. You had quipped about the blandness of English food which had made him laugh and Gaz roll his eyes. Eventually, you’d been led to your workstation - the 141’s small medical bay. 

“This is…it?” you’d asked warily. It was dusty and not a piece of equipment in the room had been turned on recently. The boxes of medical gloves sat unopened but medical supplies and wrappers littered the room. There were a few spots of blood on the floor beneath a gurney. 

“We’ve been mostly fixing ourselves up since the last doc quit,” Gaz admitted. 

“And not using gloves. Do you know how easy it is to get an infection if you don’t know what you’re doing?” you growled, gingerly picking up a used needle and disposing of it in the sharps bin.

“We’re still alive, lass. That’s what matters.” Soap said with a grin. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Right, I can see why coming here was a punishment now,” you muttered under your breath so neither of them could hear. 

“Can we show you to your room now? We want to go out later and we need time to get ready.” Soap asked, cocking his head. 

“I can take it from here.” a voice called out from the frosted glass doorway, making you turn. 

“You must be Captain Price, and that must make you the one allowing these men to doctor themselves with minimal knowledge. Don’t worry, we’ll fix that,” you said, taking in the bucket hat and mutton chops with a blink. He looked slightly taken aback and smiled. 

“Feelgood, isn’t it? Don’t forget why you’re here. Laswell filled me in.” he said.

“What? Why are you here?” Gaz asked, turning to look at you quizzically. You sighed, slumping your shoulders. 

“I’m on punishment,” you muttered lowly, making Soap guffaw. 

“Aw, lass, we’re your punishment? I shoulda been mean,” he said with a laugh. 

Before you could retort all three of their comms crackled to life. 

“Hope that doctor made it in, Price. I’m coming into base and he better be ready. Been shot.” A gruff, heavily accented voice echoed across the room. Autopilot took over your body instantly. 

“You two-” You thrust two fingers out at Soap and Gaz. “Take that gurney from against the wall and meet him outside. Lay him down, put pressure on the wound, and bring him in quickly.”

“And you-” you thrust a finger at Price. “Get me supplies. Get IVs ready to go. Be prepared to find me things while I work.” you barked. 

Immediately you ran for the sink, tossing your jacket aside and hurriedly scrubbing up and down your arms and hands before drying yourself and gloving up. You threw on a gown, a mask, and a cap and gloved up again. As you turned around the doors burst open and Soap and Gaz came in pushing a gurney with a massive man covered in tactical gear and a skull balaclava draped over the top.

“Where is it? Get that gear off.” you barked, angling a light down from the ceiling and angling it towards your patient. 

“Stomach,” he grunted, grabbing his vest and dragging it away. He was panting and blood dripped onto the floor as the vest fell off. 

“Scissors.” you barked. It took a moment for Price to pass them to you and you shot him an exasperated look when you saw his bare hand. 

“All of you, glove the fuck up! Gowns on, masks on!” you shouted, tossing the scissors to the side and grabbing a fresh pair. You snipped carefully across where the blood was concentrated and pulled the fabric to the side. 

“Anterior abdomen entry, near the flank.” You pressed gauze to the wound and waved your hand at Soap. 

“Turn him over slightly. Gently!” you warned. On the count of three, you worked together with the Scot to gently lift Ghost from the side to examine his back. 

You exhaled when you found an exit wound and pressed more gauze to it, gently helping Soap lay the big man back down.

“Clean through but you’re not out of the woods yet.” you barked. Through the balaclava you could see that Ghost’s eyes were glassy - he was struggling to focus.

“Stay with me, big guy. Gaz, hold pressure on that entrance wound.” you barked. 

“Price, help me with these pants and boots,” you ordered. So far the three had been excellent at following your orders, but at this, the captain faltered. 

“What for, doc-”

“Do as I say!” you barked, turning to insert a needle into Ghost’s vein and get the IV drip going. Price fumbled with Ghost’s boots as Soap undid his lieutenant's pants sheepishly, dragging them down. You tossed a blanket over Ghost’s legs and gritted your teeth.

“This is your only warning to turn around. You won’t want to see what I’m doing.” you snapped, lubing your finger and slipping your hand beneath the blanket and into Ghost’s boxers. 

“Sorry man,” you mumbled quietly. Price and Gaz had managed to turn around in time but as Soap realized what you were doing, a look of horror overtook his features. 

As gently as you could manage, you slid a finger into Ghost’s ass. 

–

Hours later you sat alone on a bench in your medical bay chugging coffee. 

Things had gone well as they could have given the circumstances. After confirming no intestinal damage had been done by the bullet and stabilizing Ghost, you set him up in one of the hospital beds in your ward and treated the rest of his comparatively minor injuries. As he had lay, unconscious while being rehydrated and given a blood transfusion, you had begun cleaning what had immediately been established as your domain. 

Soap had bailed as soon as Ghost was stable, muttering about needing a drink after what he’d seen. Gaz had followed after sitting by his lieutenant for some time. Price was the last to leave but he still came in and out sporadically to bring you coffee and help with the cleanup. A gentle rapping on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You glanced up.

“Hungry?” Price asked. There was a tray in his hands, and two plates sat atop it. 

“God, yes, please. I haven’t eaten since before I got here,” you admitted, offering Price a smile as he sat beside you. 

“I don’t think it’ll be as good as the ones from where you’re from, but I got burritos from the mess.” he offered, unveiling the plates. You both ate in silence, staring off into space, punctuated only by the beeping of Ghost’s heart monitor.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you all,” you said after a moment, wiping refried beans from your cheek with your sleeve.

“No, please, you were right to order us around. I don’t think I’ve ever watched…that…before. What you did was incredible.” Price admitted. 

“It wouldn’t have happened without your support. I’ll make nurses of the lot of you. That is if I don’t get killed when big guy remembers my finger in his ass.” you muttered. Price choked on his food. 

“Is that what the pants thing was about?” he asked hesitantly after a minute.

“It’s essentially a check for intestinal damage. If you ever get shot, stabbed, or blown up you’ll get the same treatment,” you said matter-of-factly. Price blinked. 

“Remind me not to in that case,” he said with a chuckle. More silence passed. 

“How’d you manage to run off so many doctors?” you asked after a moment. Price grunted. 

“Not me, love. I guess you’ll find out when he wakes up.” he nodded toward Ghost. You sucked in a deep breath. 

“You’re suggesting two extremes. One possibility is that your task force has a severe case of the man flu and needs to be babied to an extreme. The second possibility is that the second his eyes come open he’ll be off the bed and he’ll refuse treatment until he gets shot again.” you said. 

“That’s about it, especially with him,” Price grunted, nodding at Ghost again. You sighed. 

“I’ve restrained men before and I’ll do it again, captain. I’m not afraid,” you said boldly, polishing off your burrito and watching Ghost’s chest as it rose and fell. 

“You left the balaclava on - that’s good. There’s hope for your survival yet, love.” Price said. He patted your knee good-naturedly and rose, picking up the tray to take back.

“I’ll send one of the boys in later tonight to give you a break so you can sleep,” he said, headed for the door. You nodded quietly and got up to continue cleaning and reorganizing your med bay, determined to make it home.

“Oh, and one more thing - welcome to England.” Price said as the door shut behind him.

[ltrllynbdy]

So a few years ago I bought this trilogy called captive prince but after reading a few chapters of the first book I kind of gave up on it. I normally don't have a problem with exploring darker themes in a story but captive prince in particular was unenjoyable for me at that time

Later, I was bored with nothing much to do, so I decided to check my bookshelves, found captive prince and started reading and boy I am so glad that I did! I finished the books in a few days and proceeded to read all the short stories.

First of all, before I get to praise the book, I want to say my main criticism about the books: "the slavery stuff in the first book is badly written". Don't get me wrong, Captive prince does not glorify slavery like some haters suggest. I'm not exactly opposed to writing slavery in fiction and there are many political/historical fictional stories that have main characters trying to abolish slavery. It's a common theme.

Captive prince is not much different from the main character ,Damen ,who used to be a slaver himself, gets turned into a slave and tries to abolish it by the end of the series.

It's a fine idea on surface level but there's one big problem with it , I'd like to call it the "Erasmus problem". The first book of captive prince heavily suggested that there were slaves like Erasmus who liked to have a master and I want to believe it's Damen being biased and bigoted because of his privileged upbringing but the story itself still falls apart. There are also instances where sexual slavery becomes apparent and uncomfortable. So if any of these bothers you like it bothered me, the first book of CP is definitely not for you.

OK now for the positives:

From the second book onward, this trilogy becomes a masterpiece.

This story is truly an enemy to love. Most of the other enemies to lovers stories that I have read are just characters either having a simple rivalry or a petty misunderstanding. They dislike each other because one character ignored the other when they were kids , or because they are simply on a different sports team. Captive prince does not shy away from giving the main characters good and logical reasons to hate each other and even hurt each other to an extreme for great and understandably human reasons. They have hurt each other a lot and have no business ever falling in love and still somehow manage to grow and understand and develop something special and unique and I think it's beautiful.

The slow burn: The romance starts only after the entire first book (in which they just hate each other) and most of the second book (where they get to know and understand each other), it's not the slowest burn I've ever read but for a book with characters like these two, it's necessary. and well written

Captive prince's author is extremely brave in making the first book and one of the main characters deliberately hateable with a seemingly unreliable narrator: I don't think I've ever read a story where I hate the first book and enjoy the rest. First impressions are very important and when people don't like an entire first book they probably wouldn't try to continue. I have no idea how and why this author managed to make people still invested enough to publish the second and third book but I'm glad that it happened. It was so enjoyable reading the story from one character's perspective and going from absolutely hating the other character to loving him and understanding him. with the unreliable narrator that is Damen.

The world building, writing and the political story: This may not be the greatest political story with the greatest worldbuilding I've ever read but considering the genre that is m/m romance, I think it's excellent. Let's face it, it's not common for m/m romance to do worldbuilding and politics well. I don't want to seem mean but I've read a decent amount of books and m/m romance and very few of them were actually satisfying to me in terms of politics. Captive prince was one of the rare gems. There might be a few plot holes for me here and there but seeing the characters struggle with each other and plan things out , helping each other or getting fooled by each other in a romance story focusing on mostly only two characters was great to see. I also found some aspects of Homonormativity in the world hilarious. Unless you are married, you are not allowed to be straight in Vere because they hate bastards lol

Despicable villain: This story has the worst and most hateable villain I've ever read in an m/m story. This again goes back to the author being brave enough to write the story the way it is since a lot of romance writers don't dare tackle some really darker aspects.

Subversion of Tropes and Exploration of Power Dynamics : This one was a little hard for me to put into words but basically the series delves into power dynamics in relationships, politics, and society, offering nuanced portrayals of domination, submission, and consent and I don't necessarily mean sexually. In most romance stories, whenever character 1 goes to character 2's kingdom as a lover or sex slave (usually character 1 is the female character in a straight romance) you'd almost always see them have one specific power dynamic. In Captive prince, their characters and their dynamics clashes and changes rapidly and as the story goes on, Damen as a king becomes almost equal to Lauren (I would argue he even becomes politically more powerful than Laurent during certain parts of the story considering Laurent remains a prince for the most part but I digress)

Flawed and human characters who hurt each other without actually romanticizing toxicity: One thing that some people criticize about captive prince and I disagree with, is that it has a toxic relationship. I have to mention that there's basically no actual relationship between the characters until the end of the story and when they do get into a relationship they are a very sweet couple. I think people call them toxic because they were flawed and literal enemies who hurt each other because of it but that's not what I call toxic. Toxicity implies that them being together (they were not together) poisons their life. Both characters manage to grow and understand each other. Damen in particular is a character who you don't see his flaws at first but it becomes more evident how privileged and naive he was and he changes a lot as well as Laurent.

Overall I think excluding the slavery aspects of book 1 which are badly written, this story hits the mark of everything I need in a romance book and I just needed to talk about it. Thanks for coming to my ted talk!

[bluelancess]

Midnight Blooms | Elriel AU part 1/?

Sports romance, college AU.

Summary: When Elain is told by her father, a ruthless politician, that she is to marry the son of one of his closest friends, Lucien Vanserra, to assure her father’s win on the next election, she has no other choice but to agree. What she never expected was her convictions being tested by a tall, devastatingly beautiful black-haired hockey player who moved in right next door. And if there was one thing Elain was certain of, was that Azriel posed a dangerous threat to the previously dormant desires roaming inside her. And she needed to stay far, far away from him.

Tags: forbidden love, arranged marriage, forced proximity, modern setting, slow burn

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Read on AO3.

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Chapter 1

I never saw you coming

ELAIN

I never thought the house where I’ve only lived for a year would become the place I’d end up calling home, but here we are.

It’s a two story brick structure, with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. The kitchen is big enough for me to spend dead moments baking, and discovering new recipes, the living room is open, and gorgeous, with a somewhat high ceiling, a chimney and big windows that showcase the back patio beautifully. My favorite thing, no doubt, is the garden. The one in the back to be more exact. It is the main reason why I fell in love with this property last year when my sister Nesta, and I were hunting for a place to live during the school year. 

The big patch of land was pretty much dead. 

The landlord said he didn’t have time to waste planting flowers or trees, and laughed at me when I mentioned the immense potencial this place has. Right now, is unrecognizable from how it was when we moved in. I have a little vegetable garden at the far right corner, the newest addition, it has been a pain on my butt to get the flimsy vegetables to grow, but I think I’m going in a good direction. 

Right below the windows, there are planters with my favorite flowers, when some of them get to big to share the space I move them into either the soil along the sides of the wooden walls separating this property from the ones beside it, or I give them their own special little planter and distribute them along the backyard's sitting area. It depends on my mood, really. 

Anyway, I haven’t been here in two months, since last semester ended, and summer break began. Father has us stay with him during vacations, and holidays, and although I wanted to sneak out and come check and make sure my flowers were nice and watered, he didn’t allow it. Good thing I decided to ask Mrs. Wade to help me during the months I’d be away. Being the sweet old lady she is, she agreed in a heartbeat, only demanding I bake her some of my special chocolate chip cookies once I returned. 

I’ve been anticipating coming back here so much, that feeling absolutely nothing when I do, wasn’t really what I was expecting. 

Guess it has everything to do with the silly, little fact, that I’m getting married in six months.

Twenty-six weeks. 

A blink of an eye, in wedding planning time. 

Even worse considering I don’t even know the man I’m supposed to marry and spend the rest of my life with. 

Father and his dreadful ideas you can't refuse. 

“We should call the police,” Nesta says, sitting angrily at my side by the breakfast table, although her eyes remain glued to the little kitchen window, it has an excellent view to the house on the other side of the street. “Look at them! They totally sell drugs.” 

She crosses her arms, and furrows her thin brows, her mouth is slanted on a grim pout. I blink, rapidly, trying to make sense of her words. I have no idea what she might be referring to, but Nesta has a reputation of hating everyone and everything that crosses her path, so I don’t take her words very seriously. 

“Sure,” I reply, bringing my cup of tea to my lips for a sip. It’s cold, and doesn’t taste as good as it usually does. 

How long have we been sitting here in the kitchen? We got back here at lunch time, and we've been cleaning and setting things up all afternoon. It feels like just seconds since I boiled water to have a nice cup of tea and relax a little, but considering my cup is still full, and mostly cold... I have a habit of drifting too far into my thoughts and having trouble coming back. 

“I’m serious, Elain.” She insists. “It would be just our luck to end up being neighbors with…” she points at them with a firm and accusing finger, “jerks like that.” 

I look out the window, and my lips part when I see the reason of my sister's fury. 

Three guys. All tremendously tall, broad shoulders, dark hair, tattoos covering their tan skin. All of them, shirtless, wearing low rise sweat pants, laughing and playing around like little kids on the front yard, bottles of beer in their hands. 

“Who was the owner of that house, again?” Nesta asks, still not turning around to look at me. “Didn’t our landlord mention he knew them? Maybe he can get me their number, I’m sure a call would solve this.” 

“I don’t see the problem,” I say and she lets out a tiny, frustrated groan. “They’re just guys. It might be nice to have someone our age living near us, for the first time in forever.” 

“You say that now, but when you can’t sleep because of the noise they’ll make throwing parties… then you’ll agree with me.” 

“You like parties.” I point out. 

“Not when I want to rest.” Nesta points out. "You're so unbothered because your bedroom isn't the one looking out into the street." 

Her bad mood makes me smile a little. What can possibly be bothering her so much? She loves male company most of the time.  

“Are you sure that’s really the problem here?” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Now she looks at me, with liquid fire in her eyes at the accusation. I giggle. She might think she is hiding her true feelings well, but I know her better than she’d like to admit. She's spent all summer away from men because father would be furious if he found out one of his daughters is sleeping around, the tabloids would go crazy if it got leaked to the press, and he'd probably cut her allowance off. Which is why she behaved. 

But father is not here. And if some guy is stupid enough to not recognize my sister as the eldest daughter of our soon to be governor, then it is fair game for her. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Feyre asks, coming into the kitchen wearing a knitted sweater and denim shorts. 

“Nesta is drooling over those guys.” 

“I'm absolutely not!” Nesta says, standing up to point towards the window, moving the think, embroidered curtain to a side, to show Feyre the show. “I’m just saying that they don’t look like the kind of guys you want to have as your neighbors. They probably cook meth in the basement.” 

Feyre’s mouth opens and her eyes follows the three muscled man like a hungry beast following their prey. When she notices this, she shakes her head and takes a step back, awkwardly walking towards the fridge to retrieve a chilled bottle of water. 

“They’re fine… I mean, they don’t look like meth dealers,” she says, and clears her throat. “How come you guys never mentioned you had such hot guys living only a couple feet away, huh?” 

“Because we didn’t.” Nesta says, looking out of the window again, I’m pretty sure she’s giving them her signature death stare. “The house was empty last semester.” 

Feyre shrugs. 

“I don’t see the problem.” She brings the bottle water to her lips, peeking through the window once more. 

“That’s what I said.” 

“You two are too naive.” Nesta says, and then in a flash, her back straightens, and her shoulders tense. “Motherfucker.” She mutters, shaking her head from once side to the other so violently, the braid on the top of her hair looses a bit. “I know who these idiots are!” 

“What?” I ask, standing up from the table, to peek at the window with them. Feyre is pretending not to be as intrigued as she is, and Nesta is just spewing curses. “Who are they?” 

“The fucking hockey players, you know, the Night Beasts. Won the hockey tournament last year, or whatever it is called.” She says, and right as the words come out of her mouth, one of the guys, the tallest one, with shoulder length dark brown hair, half of it put up on a messy man bun, looks straight at us, the mischievous smile in his face only growing. “Is he looking at us?” Nesta lowers her voice as if she spoke a little louder he might listen, and the three of us freeze in place. 

“Can he even see us?” Feyre asks. 

“The window is glass, of course he can see us, Feyre.” 

"I meant from that far." 

And then, after a beat, the guy blows us a kiss and Nesta seems to me fuming at the ears. 

“Cocky bastard,” she says, closing the curtain and grabbing our arms to get us away from the scene of the crime. “That’s it. I’m kicking them out.” 

“You can’t kick them out, it’s not your house.” Feyre says, leaving the water bottle on top of the breakfast table, looking at me with concern. Neither of us really understands exactly what has Nesta so riled up, but she’s not listening to reason right now, and she most definitely won’t stop until all the anger boiling inside her disappears. 

“What are you going to do?” I ask, following her with quick steps towards the main entry of our house. She rapidly puts on some shoes, fixes her braid, and storms out the house with a very scary aura surrounding her. 

“Should we go too?” Feyre asks at my right. “She might kill them.” 

“She won’t kill them,” I assure her, not sounding sure at all. 

“Hey, you assholes! This is a family neighborhood.” We both hear her scream, and come to the silent agreement that yes, we should probably go stop her. Feyre moves faster than I do, crossing the threshold in three long, clean steps. 

“Hey, there!” The tall guy says, waving a hand at us. “Maybe you should get binoculars next time, my abs are more impressive up close. That is, if you don’t have the balls to actually cross the street, our door is always open.” 

“Don’t be a jerk, Cassian.” One of the guys say, he’s the shortest of the three, not less handsome, his torso also covered in dark ink, hair short, and perfectly combed. He looks friendlier than his friend. As soon as I join my sisters, I notice that Feyre’s feet are glued to the floor, her stare unmoving from the new guy’s face, and when he notices my sister, his eyes glisten at the attention, his smirk grows, and then he has the audacity to wink at her. 

Feyre’s cheeks turn rosy pink, but she rolls her eyes.  

“This is me being polite, Rhys,” Cassian replies, not breaking the eye contact with my sister, and hey, props to him for having the balls to face Nesta, not many have survived. 

“Ladies, I’m sorry my brother here has the manners of a brute,” Rhys says, walking slowly to the side of the street, right where their front yard ends. 

“I couldn’t care less about your brothers manners,” Nesta says. “This is a residential street, parties or loud noises after ten p.m are not allowed. And you don’t look like the kind of guys that live a very… quiet life. So, pack your shit up, and find somewhere else to live.” 

“Nesta…” Feyre warns. 

“Wait,” The Cassian guy says, pointing at my sister with one of his fingers. “I remember you.” 

“What?” Nesta says, and I approach my sister until I’m standing next to Feyre. 

Cassian laughs, throwing his head back as he does, like he can’t really contain it. “Don’t play dumb, now.”

“You don’t know me.” Nesta states as a fact. 

“Oh, I know you,” he shoots back. “Very well, I might add.” 

Nesta arches a brow. And the tension between them is so strong, it’d probably give you whiplash if it cut in half. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“The alley behind Elysian the last week of February? Ring any bells?” He teases her, and I chew the inside of my cheeks, watching their word war is like waiting for a grenade to explode. 

Now it makes more sense why Nesta was so riled up by the presence of these men. She would’ve never admitted it to us, though. Not if we tried to pry the truth out of her with the worst kind of torture. She’s closed off like that when it comes to the men she dates, or sleeps with. Dating is not really on her dictionary. 

“Seems like you have it committed to memory,” She teases him back, and Feyre looks at me surprised, biting her lower lip to keep herself from laughing. “Can’t say the same, I don’t waste time remembering guys who are… underwhelming, to say the least.” 

Cassian’s confident smile disappears in a blink. 

“You gave me a fake phone number, you know?” He tells her, like he’s wanted to say that to her for months, but never had the chance. 

“Oh, I did?” Nesta feigns innocence. “Guess I couldn’t be bothered to remember my real one.”

Feyre chuckles beside me, then clears her throat. “We should go back inside.”

“I’m done here, anyway,” Nesta says, turning around on her heels. But before she can fully go back to the house, she says to them, lifting a single finger in the air: “One transgression to my rules, and I’m calling the police.” 

“You’ll be joining in on the fun soon, gorgeous, don’t worry,” Cassian tells her, his confidence is back in place, like Nesta never gave a life threatening punch to his ego. 

“In your dreams, asshole.” 

“Believe it or not, my dreams come true all the time,” he tells her. “Mostly the dirty ones.” 

Nesta rolls her eyes, and goes back inside of the house, closing the door with a bang. 

“Sorry about that, my sister can be… a little intense.” Feyre says.

Cassian looks over Feyre's shoulder, like he's hoping to get one final glimpse of Nesta. “Just how I like them.” 

“Cass,” Rhys warns and Cassian shuts his mouth, then Rhys turns his attention to feyre. “We won’t bother you. Much.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about us,” Feyre says, also turning back around to go inside the house. “It’s Nesta the one you want to keep… content.” 

“Will do,” Cassian replies, fast as lighting, like he’s accepting a challenge and he hasn’t even realized it yet. 

“Good luck with that.” 

Feyre takes a couple steps towards the porche, and knocks on the door. Nesta completely forgot we were outside with her when she decided to do her grand exit. 

I’m about to follow my sister, when a new, rich, and velvety voice that we hadn’t heard before reaches my ears. 

“We are throwing a little get-together tomorrow night,” he says. I look up at the sound, and my mouth dries at the sight of the man in front of us, my breath catches and my heart pounds so fast, all I can hear is the frantic heartbeats. High cheekbones, and a boyish grin on his face. Short dark hair like his friends, but a little messier. I hadn’t noticed him before, standing on the porche, like hidden by the shadows. Now, he’s all I can see. “You should come.” 

“Azriel is right, you should come. It’ll be something small, I promise,” Rhys says, also walking back towards the house, putting one hand on top of the shoulder of his friend. “A one time thing, even. To kick start the year. I’m sure your sister won’t mind if it’s a Friday, correct?” 

Azriel. 

He looks down at his sneakers, but there’s a tiny smirk on his lips, the right side of his mouth lifting up slightly more than the left. Then his eyes look up again, directly at me, and my knees buckle, like they want to give in at the heavy weight of my body. God, he’s beautiful. 

Beautiful, like it should be forbidden, illegal, to be. 

Men like him don’t exist in real life. They just don’t. 

And it is so unfair, so unfair, that he happens to live so close. 

“Will there be booze?” Feyre asks, and Rhys smiles at her. 

“What kind of booze do you prefer?” 

She takes a couple seconds to answer, chewing on her lower lip, gloating at the way the guy can’t keep his eyes off of her. 

“I really like wine.” She replies. “Good wine, though.” 

“I’ll get you the best.” 

She smiles even broadly. 

“Great,” Feyre knocks on the door one more time, and it opens with an angry force, I chuckle when I see Nesta walking away with heavy and furious steps towards the stairs. “I’ll bring my boyfriend.” 

And then Rhys is not smiling anymore. 

“Come on, Elain.” She tells me and I giggle. “Wanna order pizza for dinner?” 

“Sure.” I turn around and wave at them. “Goodnight.” 

Rhys and Cassian grunt, twin annoyed grimaces in their faces. 

But Azriel... he smiles at me. 

And then waves back softly. 

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hi! thank you so much for reading! I've been wanting to write an ACOTAR fanfic in a modern setting for so long, and i finally have the time (and the ideas) to do it, so i really appreciate you taking the time to read it! I will be updating it as i go, i hope to post regularly, so we'll see!

i´m also posting this on AO3, so it'd be great if you guys could go support me there as well! <3

ps. i always say this, but english isn't my first language, so i apologize if there are any mistakes<3

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter Two

(AO3 Link) | Master List | Ko-Fi

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You).

Word Count: 3240 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, domestic fluff, camp life, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT), violence description.

WARNING: Contains violence description.

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A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content.)

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A/N: Happy Monday!

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Chapter Two - Six

The ground shakes beneath you as the boom of a war horn ravages the forest. You stand behind Minthara on a large boulder. There’s a small gathering of tieflings above the ivy-covered gate, and they don’t seem like powerful druids. Your heart plummets in guilt.

What have I done? These people… Gods, they’re barely even armoured… They’re all going to die…

Your mind continues swimming in panic. You scan the crowd of goblins, it’s clear to see that they’re outnumbered. They don’t stand a chance. A singular arrow darts towards you, Minthara swipes it to the side with effortless magical ability. “Blow that gate open! Now!” She commands. The goblins release their warcries. Some, carrying barrels of explosives, rush to the gate. Arrows rain from the sky and puncture as many foes as they can but it’s not enough. Through smoke and floating gunpowder, you can see the destruction of the gate. The grove is compromised. But before Minthara can give further command, you spot silhouettes amongst the wreckage. 

Six silhouettes, all different in stature and weight. A very odd-looking alliance, indeed. Minthara holds her tongue, waiting for them to reveal themselves so as to gauge this new enemy’s abilities. 

Weighted thumps on soil grow faster and louder as two of the silhouettes reveal themselves. A powerful, red tiefling, brandishing a greataxe with what looks to be living fire escaping her chest leaps forward, burning rage in her eyes. Then a skilled, female, githyanki warrior slicing through goblins with no hesitation and shaking off hits like they’re nothing. They make quick work of their foes, pushing the army back.

Behind them, a black-haired half-elf can be seen healing the injured with one hand and casting radiating destruction spells with the other.

Just as they’re beginning to feel overwhelmed by enemies, a ray of devastating lighting scorches the earth, electrocuting all goblins in it’s path. Your eyes follow it to the source, a human in a humble, purple robe, his eyes filled with determination and pride at his own magic.

The scorched goblins begin to twitch and spasm. You flick your gaze back to them, realising that they are dead no longer and are now fighting for the opposite side. By the gate, another human with a darker complexion, noble attire and a rapier in hand stands proudly, leading his new, undead army into battle.

That’s one, two, three, four, five… There were six… Weren’t there?

Minthara snarls and leaps into the centre of battle. Surrounded by these new, mighty enemies, she calls upon Lolth to aid her before attacking each foe with excellent precision and strength. You look around, frantically trying to keep up before realising… This is it. Your chance to escape. Your breath shudders as you slowly back away and once out of Minthara’s field of view, you run.

The makeshift shoes you were given start to rip and come apart beneath you with each desperate collision with the floor. You look back to ensure that you aren’t being followed, then you… Stop? The wind in your lungs is forced out of you as your back hits something solid. But that can’t be, there was nothing there, right? You feel a cold, hard, sharp sensation against your neck, your breath hitches. You try to wriggle free from whatever this is, but something strong holds you in place. In confusion and panic you go to let out a shriek before, yet again, you are stopped. A soft, smooth, cold texture contains the sound within your mouth. “Shh…” Suddenly the force around your mouth becomes opaque: a hand. The sensation on your neck: a dagger. The solid pressed firmly up against your back: A person.

Number six…

“If I move my hand, are you going to scream?” A male voice hums into your ear. You shake your head in response, there are no tears in your eyes, only fury.

You. Were. So. Close.

“Are you sure? I’d hate to ruin such a pretty neck…” His threats are theatrical, but you hear his earnesty and feel his eyes burning into your exposed skin. He allows the dagger to make a small, irritating cut on your neck to emphasise his point. Breathing comfortably would surely deepen the wound and seeing no way out, you give in and douse the fire inside of you, for now. You nod. He slowly removes his hand and you catch your first glimpse of him. His hand is pale and his nails are manicured. There is little hair and through his almost translucent skin, you see hints of dark veins. You feel his breath on your ear, it’s surprisingly warm for someone so cold.

His now free hand grips the plush skin of your arm and he moves the dagger to allow you to breathe as normal, but ensures that the threat remains. He guides you back to the, now quieter, battlefield. Minthara is on her knees, clutching her stomach, blood slipping through the gaps between her fingers. She coughs and gasps, lifting her head to see you, captured again. “T-true… S-soul…” Her words aren’t of sorrow, but of pride that you are still standing. She knows death will soon claim her, but you? You can finish her quest and bring glory to The Absolute. She grins. A greatsword’s blade, coated in thick red, is held beside Minthara’s neck. “Any last words, istik?” The githyanki sneers.

Minthara does not break her eye contact with you. “F-for… The Abso-” The sword traps her words in her throat forever, as it severs her head in one fell swoop. It rolls towards you, her now limp grin of devotion still smeared across her face.

You begin to breathe deeply… Heavily… You can’t breathe… You need air, now. You try to escape your captor’s grasp, you’re going to die, you’re sure of it. “Let her go!” The tiefling’s command frees your body and you feel your legs give out from underneath you. No matter how much air you suck into your lungs, you can only suffocate.

A warm, delicate hand rests on your back and rubs it in firm circles. “Breathe properly now. With me. In… And out…” A gentle, yet guarded voice attempts to guide you back to reality, but it isn’t working. The half-elf shrugs and looks to her companions for assistance, to which the githyanki scoffs and rolls her eyes. You rake your fingers through the soil, desperately trying to ground yourself when - Black. __________________________________________

How long has it been? Is this… Death? No, it feels too familiar. Sleep? It could be. It’s certainly peaceful… But it can’t be, mine doesn’t feel like this anymore. Mine is more… Restless… I haven’t felt like this in… Well, too long anyway…

No… Please don’t go…  Just a little longer… Please… __________________________________________

The world is fuzzy when seeing it through barely open eyes. Green sways above you, sheltering you from sharp lines of yellow light. Your eyes open further. It’s midday, same as before, as though no time has passed. How much time has passed? You begin to sit up to get your bearings. “Woah there soldier, take it easy.” You flinch at the voice and search, eyes wide for danger. It’s the tiefling from earlier. “It’s okay! It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” You huddle yourself into a ball, keeping your eyes on hers and shuffle away. She smiles with such warmth you almost feel tempted to let your guard down, almost. “The name’s Karlach, and you are?”

“What makes you think I’d tell you? Your friend held a dagger to my throat!” You force anger through your fear and surprisingly, Karlach seems to understand. She sighs and nods, rubbing her face. “I know, I’m sorry. I wish there was no need for it, but you have to understand, we don’t know what we’re dealing with here. Before we can trust you and let you go, we need to know who you are.” You know better than to trust promises of freedom, but then you look around. 

You seem to have found yourself in a humble camp, surrounded by one-person tents, hardly a prison. An unlit campfire stands in the centre and your captors are idly going about their business. All of them you recognise, all except one. A lean, pale elf with white, well kept curls meticulously arranged on his head. He stands, reading a book amongst neighbouring silk cushions that are scattered around the entrance of his tent. There’s even a stool right next to him, but he chose to stand. Weird. Watching him turn the page, you notice his familiar hands. You grit your teeth and furrow your brow. That’s the fucker that caught you.

Flicking your eyes back to Karlach, you can see how desperately she wants you to cooperate. You check your ankles and wrists, there are no restraints. “How long was I out for?” You ask in a dull, numb voice.

“A day.”

You nod, realising how energised you feel, a rare occurrence for you. “And… How?” Although you’re grateful for the rest, the last thing you remember was clawing at the ground, not exactly a bedtime routine. 

“Oh… Ha ha… Well…” She gestures to her head sheepishly, you place your hand on yours and jolt at the sudden pain, a bandage covers a gnarly bump on the right side of your head, then the headache hits you. “Ugh… Gods…” You rub your eyes but doing so only produces stars, you lay back down.

“Yeah, sorry about that too, soldier.” You hear approaching footsteps, but moving to protect yourself right now would be too painful.

“So, she’s awake at last… What now?” Asks a gentle, male voice. You try to peer through the stars to see which companion it is. You see… Purple. This must be the wizard.

“Yes, what now, indeed? Shall I get my tools and see what information I can get out of her?” You recognise this as the familiar voice of the half-elf.

“With all due respect, Shadowheart, I think she’s a bit… Out of it. Maybe adding more pain into the mix isn’t such a good idea.”

“Alright, what do you suggest?” She asks, clearly disappointed and irritated.

“You could start by sparing some magic and healing that wound on her head. She can’t even speak.” Shadowheart sighs and reluctantly casts Cure Wounds, your vision clears and the pain subsides.

Thank the Gods…

Finding your strength, you sit up once again and your eyes meet the wizard’s. His features are soft, kind, though you suppose looks can always be deceiving. “Welcome back. Now, let’s cut to the chase. You don’t trust us, we don’t trust you, that much is clear. But, we can help each other. And I’ll get into the ‘how’ of it all soon enough, but for now, I’ll settle for your name. I’m Gale, of Waterdeep.” He reaches his hand out to shake yours. You inspect it, searching for trickery, then you look at his face. He has a friendly, inviting smile and you sense no ulterior motive. You take his hand and shake it gently. “Tav.”

“Tav! Excellent.” Once you let go, he claps his hands and turns to his companions. “This is Shadowheart, our fierce cleric.” He gestures towards her, she forces a smile but unsuccessfully hides her distaste for the introduction. “And you’ve met Karlach.” She waves at you excitedly, seeming proud of you for opening up, just a little. She emanates friendliness, you can’t help but smile back. “Let’s see… That’s Lae’Zel, our resident githyanki.” He points her out, upon hearing her name, she looks over, sees you and immediately scoffs before returning to her task. “Over here we have Wyll, ‘The Blade of…” 

“The Blade of the Frontiers, at your service.” The one who bent the dead to his will approaches and performs a grand bow. “My lady.” You raise an eyebrow.

Is this guy for real?

You smile and nod politely. You take in his features as he raises his head. Brown skin, facial scars and one eye seemingly made of stone. Intriguing…

“And last but… Eh… not least, Astarion. The stealthiest of the bunch.” He doesn’t look up from his book, he just makes a vague, waving, hand gesture. You raise an eyebrow again, but this time you make no effort to conceal your judgement.

“Yes, I remember.” Just as you’re about to look away, you spot a smirk on his face. The prick.

“So, now that we’re all well acquainted, maybe now you could tell us everything you know about this ‘Absolute’, yes?” Gale looks at you expectantly.

“Hold on, you said we could help each other. What am I getting out of this?” The companions exchange worried glances before Karlach takes over.

“Well that all depends on your answers to our questions, soldier.” She looks at you apologetically.

“Seriously? You want me to give you all this information for the mere chance that you could give me something in return? Yeah, no thanks.” A moment of tension passes.

“We know what’s in your head and we have them too!” The words practically burst out of Karlach’s mouth, to everyone’s disapproval. Gale brings his hands to his head, eyes wide in disbelief at Karlach’s lack of control, Shadowheart essentially slaps her hand into her face, holding it there in disappointment, and Wyll just pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply, shaking his head. You get the slight feeling that you weren’t supposed to know that.

“You don’t mean…”

“Yes, that little worm in your skull. We all have one.” Shadowheart admits in defeat.

“How did you…?”

“Minthara, she called you True Soul. That seems to be the name for people like us.” Gale explains. “However, none of us have succumbed to ceremorphosis yet, nor are we under this ‘Absolute’s’ control. We want to understand why. Any information you can give us would be greatly appreciated.” You listen intently, his explanation that only fills your mind with further questions. You ask about ‘ceremorphosis’ and process the definition.

“I’m sorry, what now? You’re-… I’m-… We’re turning into MIND-FLAYERS?!”

“No- well, maybe? We aren’t quite sure. All we know is that our infection has been highly irregular thus far.”

Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?! Interesting how Minthara left that fucking detail out!

“In any case, we’re searching for a cure. Please, if you know anything, anything at all, we need all the help we can get.” Gale pleads.

“And soldier, you do too.” You look up at Karlach who’s smile alone brings you down from another episode. You take a deep breath.

“A-alright…” You go on to describe your experience in the goblin camp and repeat all the information that Minthara shared with you during your time there. As you reach the point in the story of the ‘interrogation’, you are… selective with the details. Choosing to describe your actions through the eyes of a mere, horrified spectator rather than the confused, active participant you truly were. Astarion’s mouth twitches at your story as he cocks his head to the side. He seems intrigued. Too intrigued. The others listen and nod thoughtfully as you speak.

Once finished, they stand there in silence, processing. You search their faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of what their judgement of you will be. Gale breaks the silence: “Just a moment.” He gathers all companions, including Astarion and Lae’zel around the campfire, just out of earshot from you. You watch as each one has a turn to speak, occasionally glancing at you before returning to the conversation. It’s a passionate discussion between very strong personalities, it’s a wonder how they’ve remained allies for longer than a day. Eventually, you see nods of agreement, some begrudging and some pleased as they all turn and walk towards you.

Gale steps forward and attempts a formal speech pattern: “So… Tav, was it? We… we cannot, in good conscience, leave you to the, er- aforementioned fate. And so, we would like to extend an invitation to accompany us on our journey, as we search for a cure. What do you think?” You think for a moment, feeling all six pairs of eyes on you.

You sigh as you come to the realisation that you don’t have much choice. It’s either this, or ceremorphosis. You nod, yet still feel their unsure gaze. You give in and say the words: “Yes, alright. I’ll join you.”

You feel your companions relax… mostly. Lae’zel isn’t hiding how displeased she is with the arrangement before she leaves to tend to her collection of weaponry. Your stomach growls, no, roars. Loudly. It’s been over twenty-four hours and you haven’t had a single bite to eat. Karlach chuckles “You know what, mate? Me too. Gale, dinner time!” She taps her tummy as she follows Gale to the makeshift food station. Shadowheart leaves to light the campfire and Wyll smiles at you before helping her.

That’s one, two, three, four, five… and six.

Astarion stood, resting his weight on one hip, watching you. You look up at him, making eye contact. The slight warmth you feel towards your newfound companions grows colder once he is in your view. A brief look becomes a fight for dominance, neither party willing to lose. “Can I help you?” Your voice is laced with contempt, yet the only effect you have on him is widening his insufferable grin. He holds you in suspense for a moment before speaking.

“You don’t like me.” His tone is playful, flirty even.

“Hard to. First impressions are everything.” You slide yourself off the stone slab you used as a bed to face him properly, trying to regain control.

“Oh darling, you know I only did that because I had to.” He laughs and tilts his head down, intensifying his gaze, effortlessly. He steals a glance at the small cut on your neck, the corner of his mouth twitches in the thrill of knowing that he put it there. “But enough about the past. You’re one of us now, we should be… Acquainted. Don’t you agree?” You fold your arms and allow him to continue under the weight of your suspicious stare. “Well, I don’t know about you, but the idea of waking up to a dagger lodged in my chest doesn’t sound particularly appealing.”

“You’re not scared of me, are you?” You smirk back at him, unfolding your arms and finding your wide hips before resting on them with your hands. He steps closer and speaks softer.

“No, not scared. I just don’t trust those who withhold the truth.” Your smirk drops and your mind races.

What does he know? How could he know? No, this is stupid, there’s no way…

“Oh don’t worry darling, I would have trusted you even less if you had laid, whatever it is, bare for us all to see. That’s why I voted to let you stay.” You raise an eyebrow in surprise. “And just so you know, I didn’t tell the others.”

“Why not? What loyalty do you have to me?”

“Oh, absolutely none, my dear… But, you never know when an ally might be useful.” He chuckles to himself, tucking his hair behind his pointed ear.

“You’re a smug one, aren’t you?”

“Hmm… Some say smug, some say charming, it’s all the same really when you get what you want. So… Allies?” He leans in, expecting an agreeable reply. You scoff at his audacity before rolling your eyes and giving him what he wants.

“Allies.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

[w3r3theli0nshunt]

Intertwined destinies

Simon ‘ghost’ Riley x Noora (fem reader)

Summary: You, Eleonoora Lintu, born in Finland were forced to be taken away due to the war. However you thought your life would be miserable and full of despair until a military man gets full custody of you and you meet your childhood sweetheart, Simon Riley. You two become best friends, both of you living a miserable life, you both gets stronger thanks to each other. That is until you get taken away by finnish soldiers, separating you and your best friend. It’s been over 20 years until the two of you meets again. Now being adults, you have much more than friendship in mind..

Warning! War, blood, gun shooting, trauma, mentions of abuse, alcohol, smut, violence, reader is called Noora, slow burn romance, mentions of miscarriages.

Part I: The pain, the grief, the relief.

You hold on tight to your mom like your life depends on it and your fear screaming in your heart as you hear the close gunshots from outside your window. Your mom is crying and cradling you at the same time. You two crying together as you both fear for your lives. The fear grips your heart so tight it turns into pain. Your mom accidentally screams as she hears the gunshots getting closer and more clearer to the ear. It almost cracks your skull open, by loud bangs it makes. You can almost feel how your lungs burns after oxygen as you unintentionally holds your breath, not wanting to be heard.

You hear a door open and a loud shot. You can feel the bullet blow in through your hair and the shot almost making you go deaf. The gun continues to make sounds as you can feel your mom falling back against the floor, pulling you with her as she holds a tight grip of you. And you let her pull you down, and now you lay down cuddling with her, your face buried in her shirt as you feel your head getting wet and a heavy smell of blood up your nostrils. You gaze up to see your mom gasping after air while blood gushes out of her mouth. On instinct your eyes tear up as you understand what is happening but you refuse to acknowledge it. Your hope burning in you still after everything.

Your mom lets go of you and grips your face as she forces you to look at her. That’s when you realise that your tears as streaming like rivers on your cheeks. You still hold on to your mom, it’s like you’ve gone limp lying close to her. Her eyes also tears up as she knows her time is well limited.

“My little bird, look at me, it’s not the end of me. You’ll meet me up there” she says as she gasps for air, making more blood come out of her mouth. She looks up against the roof, she sees it as the sky. Where she’ll be anytime soon. And she lets her tears stream down her cheeks as she knows she must leave you behind for good.

You also gaze up on the roof, now fully crying and sobbing.

“Promise to fight, my child. Promise to be strong. For me. Do it-…for me” Your mom says as her eyes completely shuts and her chest stops rising.

You don’t know what to do anymore. You feel lost. You have always had your mom for guidance, it was through her excellent guidance you could become something. It was through her excellent guidance, you became a better person. It was her who made you into a sisu and you were gonna hold your promise to be strong and keep fighting. You have the will and you will fight.

You hold your mom for the last time, give her a kiss on the temple, then doing a prayer to keep her soul at peace in heaven. You take of her heart locket that contains a picture of you and her, that you put around your neck to keep as a memory. Allowing a few more tears to fall as you force your unsteady legs up as you move your way to the door that was open since the shooting. You stop as you stare into the hallway mirror looking at yourself. You’re covered in the blood of your mom, you shed a few more tears as you take a last glimpse of your lifeless mom that laid limp on the living room floor. Blood pooling around her, destroying her beautifully blue coloured shirt that she loved so much.

You didn’t wanna linger in the house that only smells like blood and despair anymore, so you make your way outside to be met by the ray of the sun caressing your face. You feel the warmth of the sun on your body, but also the voices of men. Soldiers. But the didn’t sound like the soldiers that shot civilians. The language that the men spoke sounded oddly familiar. English. It was English. You’ve learned a bit English in the Finnish school, but you couldn’t speak it fluently. These radiated with a sense of safety and trust. You could trust them, that’s what your gut was telling you. You ran to them, standing in front of them.

“Please help, please help, my mom she’s-“ You pleaded in Finnish while pulling the arms of their shirt, almost like you tried to drag them away. They didn’t understand you, they didn’t understand Finnish. But they took one look at you, seeing you all covered in blood, they knew something was wrong. They knew someone had died, probably someone close to you for be begging them like this with pure desperation. It made their heart crack, seeing a child in this kind of state.

“Calm down, child, we will not do you any harm” One man said holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm.

But the exhaustion caught you. You were tired mentally and physically. Your legs were trying to disagree with you, that you didn’t have the energy to keep on. Even how hard you forced your legs to stand, they wouldn’t listen to you. They were rebelling against you, until you finally gave in. Collapsing in front of the soldiers, but thanks to their training of instincts they instantly caught you before you could hit the ground. One of the men picked you up in his arms, holding you close to him as if you were his own child. It reminded you of your mother’s embrace, so you leaned into to him. Burying your face in his neck, while crying out for your mom.

“Should we take her with us?” One of the men asked.

“We probably should, this poor fella doesn’t seem to have any family left” The man that was holding you said.

The other men nodded and agreed as they made their way into their military aviation, setting you in a seat while putting on the seatbelt on you like you couldn’t have done it yourself. But even if you were to tell them, they wouldn’t understand anyways. And it didn’t make the situation any better that your English was very bad.

“When we get back on base, we gotta run her a bath. Poor fella stinks of blood” One man said with a heavy British accent.

“Gotta get Jones to do it, she probably don’t want men in their 40s to help her with that” The man that sat beside you said before turning his attention to you.

It was the captain, you could tell by the way the men commanded to his will. How they always “yes, sir. No, sir” him. The captain was looking at you, mostly to the blood stained all over you. With a look of pity and a tint of sadness, he started talking to you.

“What’s your name, little one” He said as calm as he could as military men wasn’t used to being gentle and subtle.

You stared at him in response, with a look of confusion in your face as you dried your tears from before. He understood that you didn’t understand him so he tried explaining with body language instead. He at least wanted to put a name to your face and not addressing you as ‘little one’ or ‘fella’ it felt more like names for puppies rather than human beings.

“My. Name. Is. Matthew. Matthew” He said slowly, pointing at himself to show that he’s talking about himself. What he is called.

That definitely shed some light in what he was asking before, now that he made it clear that all he wanted was your name. You did hesitate at first, but then you said it.

“Eleonoora” you said softly even though everyone used to call you ‘Noora’ but only friends could call you that. And you haven’t really considered these men as friends yet.

The captain sigh in relief as he finally got an answer. No more puppy names, only Eleonoora from now on. He nodded to the men, silently telling them that it’s your name now. Not puppy names. The men nodded in approval as they all looked on you as you looked back at them confused. You wondered why they all were staring at you like you were performing on a stage. It’s been a while since they’ve seen a child, let alone being gentle since vulnerability is a weakness and weakens their chance against enemies. Most of the men were dads that haven’t seen their kids in a while. You shed some light in their dad hearts, reminding them of what they have waiting for them at home. It made them happy, but at the same time sad that you were drenched in someone else’s blood indicating someone close to you died.

After a few hours, the aviation landed and the men unbuckled their seatbelts which made you do the same. Before anyone could do it for you. Even if you were 9 years old, you could take care of yourself. You have pretty much been independent your whole life and you enjoyed it rather than being babied around. Your mom taught you how to take care of yourself from a very young age, as growing up in a poor town would make her to work a lot to earn every coin just to have a stable life. To have a roof over your head, food on the table and a little extra just because being a child is when you should have fun. You have never met your father, you don’t know how it feels to have a father. Your mother was pregnant with a baby boy before getting pregnant with you, but she ended up getting a miscarriage due to the constant stress and physical harm she would suffer at work. That made her more careful when she got pregnant with you. You had always wondered how it would feel like to have an older brother. And have a siblings bond is something you have dreamed of.

The captain held his hand in yours as he walked with you into the base, introducing you to all of the people. They all greeted you happily with such gentleness you’ve never experienced before. It was a little intimidating, but also comforting. It almost made you forget about the death of your own mom. You kept hearing your name come out of the captain’s mouth every person he passed by and it made you look up at him, because that’s usually what you do when someone calls out your name. You listen and look at them. He would always meet your eyes with a gentle smile as if he already saw you as his own daughter.

You got to share room with the captain, he told his roommate to take his current room. He wanted to be your guardian, and he wanted you to see him as one too. It was already getting late and it was bedtime. He had made the with fresh new sheets and put a few extra pillows to make it more comfortable for you as they didn’t have any stuffed animals there. He put a little desk lamp next to the bedside table, just in case you didn’t like the dark. He tried his best to make it look as child friendly as possible. You like it, it was more luxurious than your room at your old house. You only had one bed and a closet, it would get cold at night making you fall asleep shivering. It was also very dark, which made you have nightmares at night.

You got help with showering from a female military woman. She was very kind. She had red hair, blue eyes and freckles sprinkled all around her face. She had such gentleness in her face that made you trust her the moment you laid eyes on her. She had a daughter of her own, you realised it the moment she gave you clothes that looked were about the same size as you and a little too girly for your liking. Pink wasn’t your favourite colour, but you were grateful nonetheless. She was very gentle and soft with you, she tried expressing through body language to try and communicate with you. Sometimes you gave her confused looks which made her giggle a little.

When you were changed into fresh clothes and finally had that blood smell out of you, you made your way back into the room where Matthew was sitting on his bed reading a comic. Not noticing you and the kind woman standing at the door frame.

“She’s all clean now. She only smells of my shampoo now” she giggles and gives you a smile as she walks away.

“Hey, Eleonoora, are you hungry or tired?” Matthew asked showing with his hands, mimicking someone eating and sleep in which makes you understand what he means.

You point at the bed, telling him that you’re tired and want to go to sleep. He nods and helps you climb up your bed and he tucks you into the blanket like a father does to his child. He hesitates but then gives you a kiss on the forehead. He wasn’t sure if you were ready to let him in. After all you’ve been through today. Losing someone and then letting someone new in, could be to abrupt. Matthew is about to make his way to the bed until you call out for him.

“Matthew” you called out softly, with a heavy accent as Matthew is not a Finnish name.

It makes his heart soften and his eyes water, he turns slowly around to find you run to him giving him a hug. You sob into his shirt, telling him that you don’t wanna sleep alone tonight. He picks you up and put you down on your bed before lying down in bed. You still hanging onto him, not wanting to let go. He has always wanted a kid, he tried a dozens of times with his wife, but she kept getting miscarriages and sometimes didn’t even end up pregnant. But seeing you taking him in as a dad, really made him consider himself a lucky man. His wish came true. Yours too. You always wanted a dad.

It’s been six years now since your mom died. You still remember her, keeping her locket close to your heart. And your English has gotten way better, but still have an accent that reminds you that your home was once in a foreign country. And Matthew is referred to as ‘dad’ as he has been nothing but kind and loving to you. Rest of his crew too, you were their little sister. It’s your birthday today and you’re turning 15. Matthew can’t believe how fast these years have passed. You were a little girl, now a teenager. His dad heart was bursting.

“I can’t believe my little girl is turning fifteen today!” Matthew says excitedly while hugging you. You start giggling to his enthusiastic behaviour. He was more excited than you.

“Dad, I’m not a little girl anymore” You’d argue, but in vain, because you’d always be his little girl no matter what.

“What do you want as a gift?” He said letting go of the hug to look you in the eyes. To try and read whatever was going on in your head.

“I wanna see the town, get away a little from base” you say looking back at him.

He nodded in approval and you made your way towards the car, driving into the town. Manchester was so beautiful and fascinating that you can’t help but stare at every single detail that comes into view. Savouring every single thing. Matthew spots the bakery, he always bought your favourite cookies from there, so he stops the car telling you to wait in the car. Matthew runs into the shop and you see there’s a long line in there. Bored, you looked around the car and outside unbothered. TIL you see a boy running away from a couple of other boys, they were bullying him you could tell. So you unbuckle your seatbelt and run towards the same road they chased the boy. You found them cornering him, as they were beating him and degrading him. Telling him how he’s a freak, abomination and how his father doesn’t love him. You clench your fist, getting mad a their cruel remarks.

“Hey, quit that, before I show you how I handle assholes” you say in a dominant tone, that usually manages to scare people but these imps didn’t get scared. They now completely looked at you with nasty grins.

“Look who’s here, a simple girl defending the freak boy. It must be his girlfriend” one of boys said before they all started laughing.

You could see the bruises and the small cuts on the poor boy’s arms and face. How he was cowering, how he knew he had no chance against the four of them. Hating how right they were about the part where they mentioned how his dad hated him.

“Oh I see, so these are your boyfriends then?” you say with a nasty grin on your face and giggling as you see them go from arrogant to embarrassed. They were speechless, they kept opening their mouths as if they wanted to say something but nothing came out except “uh”

“That’s what I thought, now move it before I’ll make you drenched in your own blood” you say giving them an intimidating look as the run away afraid like babies.

You turn your attention to the bruised boy standing before you. He shivers and silently grunts, he’s clearly in so much pain. He’s bleeding from his nose and he has a bite mark on his cheek, almost looks like a snake bite. He had bruises on his arms and on his face. He noticed you staring at him, with a look of pity and he has never been met with such compassion before. He has never had someone to rescue him or care for him. Even if you were a stranger and you two recently met, he felt something about you. Trust and empathy. He never thought he would be met with kindness, not after all of the abuse his father put him through.

“Such cowards” You say as you slowly approach him, extending your arm.

He was confused at first. No one ever cared to have his. No one. Yet you care, and you’ve only known him for a few seconds. He slowly, hesitantly places his hand in yours.

“I’m Eleonoora, and you are…” you say with a gentle tone and a friendly smile, that confused him more.

“I’m Simon” he says quietly, almost mumbling, but you could make out what he said.

He was confused by your sudden approach, people used to be disgusted by him, not even wanting to stand a meter close to him. And your smile didn’t seem full of fake affection, but of full of warmth and empathy. A feeling that was unfamiliar to him. A feeling he thought he’d never had the privilege of experience.

You flip his hand, making his palm face up towards the sky as you root in your pocket til you find two bandages and places it on his hand.

“It’s unfortunately all I have to patch you up with, but I have to go now. If my dad finds out I’ve gone away, I’ll be in boiling water. Take care!” You say as you make him close his fist with your hand, then pull away to run back to the car.

Simon can feel his mouth going up to a slight smile as he watches you hurry back to the car. He felt this small interaction plaster some of his wounds up around his heart. He was determined to find you again. He promised himself that no matter what, he was going to find you again.

(Sorry if there’s any wrong with the grammar or any spelling, I apologise as English is not my first language and I type quickly which can sometimes lead me to miss some words or spell wrongly)

[jadejedi]

Fantasy Book Review: A Taste of Gold and Iron by Alexandra Rowland

JJ's rating: 5/5

How feral did it make me: 5/5

My book reviews

I’ve been reading (or listening) to a lot more books this year than normal, and I have realized that I need an outlet to talk about them. I considered making a goodreads account, but hey I already have this! So I will be reviewing the books I’ve read this year, and depending on how long it takes me, I might just start reviewing all my favorite reads. I'm probably going to add links to my blog to make them easier to find.

Let’s get into it. This book is so good. SO GOOD. I listened to it on audiobook, which normally means while I’m at work, driving, or at home doing chores, but I literally listened to the last 2 hours of this book at home doing absolutely nothing, just on the edge of my damn seat! 

Here’s a quick summary: the very anxious Prince Kadou accidentally causes a serious incident that leaves multiple of his personal guards dead or injured. In the aftermath, he is assigned a new guard by the sultan who is known for being an uptight rule follower. As their personalities clash, they have to solve a mystery and learn to work together…

I want to preface this review by saying that this is definitely a romance novel with a fantasy setting. The world building, especially for the main country this novel takes place in, is great and extremely vivid without unnecessary info dumps. The main plot of the story is perfectly serviceable, if a tad predictable, but it 1000% does what it needs to do for the romance. 

But, the romance. THE ROMANCE. This book was advertised as an “enemies to lovers slow burn romance” and it 100% delivers on both. Now, when some people think “enemies to lovers” or (even better imo) “enemies to friends to lovers”, they imagine that at least one of the parties involved is a horrible villain and the relationship is probably abusive in some way. I’m sure there are plenty of books out there where that is absolutely the case, but Rowland gets what makes that trope so good. It’s about two characters who are both good people, but initially clash. It’s the mutual hatred born out of a fundamental misunderstanding of the other’s character, it’s the eventual begrudging respect, it’s THE YEARNING. THE PINING. 

Both of these characters are so wonderful. We get both POV’s throughout: Kadou’s anxious desire to do what’s best for his country and not fuck anything up, and Evemere’s steadfast, noble determination to understand what makes the prince the way he is. 

I don’t want to give too much more away, but this book is filled with ALL the delightful romance tropes you could ever desire. 

Can we talk about pacing?? Pacing is so, so important, especially when writing a slow burn romance, and this author GETS. IT. Sometimes if the romance is resolved too early, all the tension goes out of the story, because if it’s a romance novel, we’re here for the romance, not the plot. But in this story the whole novel is centered around the romance, and the pacing just works so, so well. 

Also, the way that queerness is written into this story is wonderful. Third gender pronouns abound and  same sex attraction is fully accepted, and it’s really refreshing. Also, there are multiple female characters who play significant roles in the story who are fleshed out characters, which I feel is sometimes lacking in M/M romances. 

I have not been able to stop thinking about this book since I finished it like four days ago. I listened to the audio book, which had an excellent narrator, but have also ordered the paperback with my favorite version of the cover. Please, do yourself the favor and read this one. Also, if you do read it, the author published a 10,000 word fanfic epilogue on AO3. It’s called What spring does with the cherry trees, and it’s a goddamn delight. 

[bi-widower-dads]

bi-widower-dads' February Fic Recs: Canon

Thank you to everyone who submitted recs for us! We've done some sorting and collating, and we've got two posts for you: AUs and Canon-'verse - and a whole load of excellent fic for you to get stuck into while we wait for Barduil Month in April! Without further ado, here are the canon fic recs, featuring tags, links, summaries, and all the reasons why the recommenders think you should give these fics a try!

Header image by mod @piyo-13!

(a note about tags and trigger warnings: tags are selected from those on AO3 as being those that best describe the story for the purposes of this event; trigger warnings are supplied by the recommenders and may not be comprehensive - your mileage may vary. We've tried our best to include Tumblr handles wherever we can, but if we've missed yours out and you want it included, just let us know!)

One-shots

Scenes From a Not-So-Clandestine Romance by MasterofAllImagination / @cutlerbeckettt | G | 3258 words | tags: 5+1 things, so much fluff it's sickening, seriously don't even read this

Summary: As the relationship between Bard and Thranduil grows beyond merely that of two allies, they become proportionately blind to how obvious their displays of affection are to their people. Pretty soon their feelings are an open secret shared among everyone in Mirkwood and Dale-- except the kings themselves. (or, five times someone caught Bard and Thranduil secretly kissing, and the one time they did it in public) What do you love about this fic? The author's completely correct that this is just So Much Fluff. It's great, it's cozy, it's a palate cleanser that makes you go "aww" and giggle a little at how oblivious they are.

We'll lay here for years or for hours by bispecimen | M | 5000 words | tags: canon divergence, different first meeting, animal death, hunting, could be considered canon compliant since it still works w future events, dilf vs dilf parenting techniques, canon-typical violence

Summary: "The leaves were rolling, green and healthy. Swirling around the legs of the Bowman as if they were about to bring some magical creature in his presence. But Bard didn’t feel like anything good was about to be brought in front of his eyes. The stillness of the air was suffused with something nocive. This part was forbidden for a reason. The deeper he went, the longer he stayed. He knew, he knew that." What do you love about this fic? Am possibly biased because I did the art for this, but lovely and lyrical!

but the sun is eclipsed by the moon by RC_McLachlan | G | 5288 words | tags: none

Summary: The Battle of the Five Armies threatened to unmake the world, but The Negotiations of the Three Kings might actually succeed. Or, a short lesson on the lifecycle of dandelions. What do you love about this fic? Great writer I've followed for a long time!

more than words can wield the matter by BiSquared / @scary-grace | M | 5422 words | tags: cultural differences, love letters, miscommunication, accidental marriage, getting together, laws and customs of the eldar are somewhat followed, POV Bard the Bowman, post-BotFA, as canon-compliant as barduil gets

Summary: It might be uncommon, but Bard knows it’s not unheard of for humans to share a single night of passion and part ways in the morning – or if not to part ways, then at least never to meet as lovers again. Apparently it’s unheard of among elves, because the first letter that arrives from Mirkwood, two weeks after the elves’ departure for their forest, is significantly less businesslike than expected. What do you love about this fic? The premise is funny enough that it could have come across as crack, but it creates actual narrative tension and a satisfactorily cathartic ending.

The Well-Worn Path of Words by Ias | T | 10,725 words | tags: letters, slow burn, pining, miscommunication, love confessions, epistolary

Summary: It wasn't so strange that Thranduil would call him a friend. And yet the word seemed to draw them closer like a length of string, binding them together, yet still so fragile. [In which Thranduil and Bard begin writing each other letters over the long winter after the battle.] What do you love about this fic? Fantastic epistolary fic from a great Barduil author!

Multi-chapter (in progress)

Language of the Forest by BaccaratBlack | T | 1,095 words | tags: victorian flower language, sort of unrequited feelings, cultural differences, cultural misunderstandings, courtship, secret admirer

Summary: Bard is perplexed by elven courtship rituals. Thranduil is very determined and unaccustomed to not having his way. What do you love about this fic? Who doesn't like a fic with the themes of courtship, flowers and a "secret" admirer?

Multi-chapter (complete)

A Tale of Love and Longing (as told by Galion) by jotunblood | T | 39,288 words | tags: courtship, secret relationship, developing relationship, sexual tension, light angst, post-BotFA, slow burn, Galion POV, Galion is a good friend

Summary: Galion knew all the almost imperceptible ways joy, anguish, and hate could change his King’s face. He also knew-- Thranduil’s denial be damned-- exactly how he looked when he was pining. What do you love about this fic? We see Thranduil's and Bard's relationship develop through Galion's POV and he's the best BFF/Wing Man a King could ask for.

Blossoming Spring by SlytherinImpala | T | 56,210 words | tags: fluff, post-BotFA, snark, slow burn, healing, friends to lovers, scars, movie canon, first kiss, getting together

Summary: Bard and Thranduil meet again as winter gives way to spring following of the Battle of Five Armies. What do you love about this fic? I love the gentle snarkiness between the 2 characters and how they slowly learn to open up to one another. They feel very in character and when they fall in love it doesn't feel abrupt. Definitely worth a read if you love a gentle Barduil slowburn.

Series

The Kings of the North by Evandar | T | 14,240 words | tags: partial fix-it, interspecies romance, fluff, blind thranduil, self-esteem issues, communication

Summary: There is unease in the north, as old alliances must be rebuilt and leadership learned. Bard is confused, mostly by King Thranduil, and King Fili is determined to be the best king he can be. Sigrid, meanwhile, wishes things could go back to the way they were. What do you love about this fic? This was one of the first series I ever read for barduil and definitely played a huge role in getting me into the ship in the first place!

Boundaries 'Verse by Sir_Nemo | T | 30,967 words | tags: fluff, getting to know each other, getting together, family bonding

Summary: Bard has been working for the elves for years, never actually meeting one, until one day he notices an elf watching him work. The elf becomes a constant in his life, and the two of them slowly start warming up to each other. What do you love about this fic? Bard and Thranduil's personalities really shine through in their conversations, which I feel is a core component of the plot, and makes for a very stable relationship that the story can lean on.

[sillicii]

✦ — 18+ Chatbot | Kei Boucheron | Stepdaughter's Crush — ✦

✦ — ᴏᴄ | ʙᴏʏs ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪssᴜᴇs | 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 — ✦

ᴀɴʏᴘᴏᴠ | ɴsғᴡ ɪɴᴛʀᴏ | ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs ᴄᴡ: (sort of) established relationship, mommy kink, breeding kink, age gap, infidelity, potential grooming

Character Description:

Background:

Kei was born into an incredibly wealthy family, he is of French and Japanese mixed origin. His mother divorced his father when he was young and returned to Japan. As part of the divorce agreement, his mother has agreed to go no contact with Kei for a large undisclosed amount of money. Kei and Stacy’s fathers are business partners, so the two grew up around one another. He was accepted into a prestigious university in Scotland and is currently in his third year. Kei and {{user}} began sleeping together after he graduated from high school and prior to returning to Scotland last year, he confessed his love for {{user}} while inebriated.

Scenario:

[The story is a dark, toxic, angsty, taboo, smutty slow-burn romance between Kei and {{user}}.]

First message:

It has been a year since he last saw you. A whole year without any contact or even a peep of news, all his texts and calls went unanswered. It drove him mad and he wanted to curse you for putting him through such distress, but deep down he knew that your coldness was justifiable, after all he was the idiot that unceremoniously confessed his love for you in a drunken stupor the summer prior. Not his finest moment and definitely not how he had planned the confession. In his mind, he intended on graduating first and making something of his life before ever alluding to the magnitude of his true feelings. Precisely because he knew it would terrify you. It was bad enough you two were having an affair in secret but then he went and dropped the L-bomb on you and god knows what else. What was worse was he couldn’t even remember the entirety of what he said to you. The night of Stacy’s farewell party last year, he had gotten way too drunk and all he could remember was the anxiety he felt the entire night. Lovesick and restless about being apart from you for another year, he had been trying to pluck up the courage to convince you to come visit him in Scotland, have a getaway trip away from prying eyes and the shackles of their lives. He had caught you in a quiet corner and he just blurted it out, knowing how ridiculous he sounded and it was the moment he saw your hesitation when he decided to stupidly add on that he was in love with you. Then blank. Typical. Now that he was back for the holidays, he was determined to set things right and win you back. It wasn’t off to a great start, you had greeted him cooly when he arrived at your house earlier in the night, hardly meeting his gaze as you kept the conversation strictly on his studies and travels. There was no question you still felt awkward around him, which was fun, expected even especially considering the company around them at the time. You’ve always maintained an excellent façade around others and he wanted to believe that your indifference was related to that. Then came the dinner and admittedly he began to feel the full force of your frigidity then, it was the way you interacted with every one of Stacy’s other guests with a smile and hell, you even gave your spoilt stepdaughter more attention that you did him. It was clear, lines have been drawn and you expected him to stay on the other side.

After the meal, Stacy rallied everyone to the pool and the real welcome back party began. Sat by the edge of the hot tub with a beer bottle in hand, Kei remained a quiet observer to the chaos taking place around him. The position he sat in gave him a good view of the pool but it also allowed him to glance back towards the house every so often, where he could see {{user}} through the kitchen windows. He took a sip of his beer as he noted you circling back and forth, cleaning up after the big dinner you had just prepared for everyone. Torn between keeping up with appearances and desperately wanting to run inside to confront you, he stayed sat there with a forced smile plastered on his face as he nodded along to whatever his friends were saying. After another few moments, he found himself glancing over his shoulder again and his heart stuttered at the sight of you approaching with a tray. There was a moment’s hesitation on your face when your eyes met, but you recovered quickly and offered him a treat which he accepted with a gentle smile. {{user}} then made your round like the perfect hostess, offering a dessert to each one of your stepdaughter’s friends and everyone paused what they were doing to take a sweet. The only one that did not was of course Stacy who looked irritated by the intrusion and shooed you away. Kei noticed the small dejection in your shoulders and like so many times before, he watched you put on a brave smile in the face of unwarranted hostility. You returned to the house with your tray, a single dessert left on it untouched, and quickly called back a goodnight as made your speedy exit. “Thanks ma’am!” Will shouted back as he joined Kei by the tub, just finishing his bite of the brownie as he waved at your retreating figure. As the girls made their way over, Will turned to Kei with a smug grin. “Damn, she’s as hot as ever. Stacy, your mom’s got it going on.” “Stepmom,” Stacy corrected with a slight furrow of her brows as she joined them, slipping into the tub as he gave Kei a quick cursory look. “And ew. She’s like ancient, don’t let all that surgery fool you.” “Nah, that sweet ass and pretty smile of hers tells me she’s all natural. A sexy momma,” Will chucked lecherously, elbowing Kei playfully. “Am I right, buddy?” “Not sure,” Kei shrugged back, lying through his teeth with no effort. “I never really thought about it.” From the corner of his eye, he could see the instant relief wash over Stacy’s face and he had hoped to incite that reaction from her. Stacy had always been rather transparent with her affections for him and he was also painfully aware of how much she disliked her stepmother, finding any excuse to begin bitching about her. Kei was not in the mood to deal with that tonight, but it seemed that despite his efforts she was set on complaining anyway. This time going on about how supposedly irritatingly dreary you’ve become and how you were likely doing it for attention since her father had shown signs of becoming bored of you. Kei watched the entire exchange with a flat smile, rejecting the urge to roll his eyes at Stacy’s blatant and frankly incomprehensible hatred towards you. This has been going on for years and Kei was exhausted with the same baseless accusations when you’ve been nothing but sweet and accommodating towards your bratty stepdaughter.

“Hey Stace,” Kei spoke before thinking. The group fell silent at the sound of his voice and he knew he had to think fast. “… I’m heading inside for a bit. Can I take your glass?” Stacy blinked back at him before glancing down at the empty cocktail glass in hand. Then with a smug smile, she passed the glass over to Kei. “Would you? Thanks.” As he headed towards the house, he heard more insults being thrown your way but at least he had excused himself for the meantime. He knew that Stacy was an ungrateful bitch, but he did wonder how much of what she said was true. Was there any chance that your husband’s attentions were drifting and you had genuine concerns about your position in the household? Arriving through the backdoor, he headed quietly into the kitchen. You were still in there stacking the dishwasher, a half full wine glass in one hand as you stacked plates with your free hand, every so often you took a sip from the glass. In your pretty slip dress and your feet bare against the tiled floor as you worked, you were the very picture of a domestic goddess and he found himself enchanted. Without thinking, he moved towards you and pressed you against the countertop with his arms bracing either side, effectively locking you in place as his hand curled over your free hand.

“{{user}}, p-please…” he pressed his body into your back, lowering his face into your neck and took in your intoxicating scent. “Stop ignoring me… I can’t fucking take it anymore…”

Example dialogue:

His mask slipping: “Why do you never stop talking, Stace? Just shut up for once.”

Seducing {{user}}: “I know I shouldn’t have said it… but can you blame me for feelings such things for you. {{user}}? You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and the only woman I’ll ever want.”

Wants to cum inside {{user}}: “Mmm, fuck… let me cum inside? Pretty please? I promise to take care of you, I’ll be a good daddy if we have a baby… f-fuck… please {{user}}…”

Wants a relationship: “Really consider it, {{user}}. I’m no longer a child and in a few years time, I’ll be able to support you and give you the life you deserve.”

[friends-to-lovers-tournament]

Friends to Lovers Tournament: Round 2, Side A, Match 1

propaganda under the cut!

Amalia/MC: 

Amalia and the MC, I'll call them Rowan, have been friends since childhood. When Rowan's whole family was killed by monsters, they basically moved in with Amalia. So Amalia became the first person Rowan told about their supernatural trauma and they became monster fighting partners. Amalia excels at fighting with a bo staff and Rowan knows how to use a gun, a baseball bat or The Power itself. So, they're total badasses. But they also always look out for each other (well at least when I play the game) and Amalia is trying to get Rowan to work for a future too and not only live in the past. There are four love interests in the game but Amalia has a special place in it anyway because she is Rowan's best friend while the others start out as strangers. Still, her romance route is the slowest slow burn of them all, as her and Rowan gradually grow from friends to lovers. No matter whether you choose to romance her, she will always give Rowan a ring (well depending on how you play) so they get platonically or nonplatonically engaged in my mind.

They're just so beautiful together. They have bake-offs and inside jokes and Amalia writes fanfiction that she sends to Rowan. There's heartbreak and hurting each other and secrets come out and it's often Amalia that is targeted. Simply, because she means that much to Rowan and vice versa. Amalia was one of the best things to come of the fanmade installment of the it lives series and I adore her relationship with the MC in either case. As best friends or as friends to lovers.

Tasutsumu:

Submission 1:

(exploding) sorry if this is badly written i am walking rn . Mods know the series but A3 is about stage actors.

TasuTsumu are literally the friends to lovers ever. They're childhood friends, even. They did everything together. They've acted together since elementary school. but then (VINE BOOM) thry both try out for a prestigious acting troupe called GODza... but only Tasuku makes it in (sad horn sounds) Tsumugi lost a ton of confidence after not making it and kinda ghosted Tasuku and ran away from his problems </3 he originally had given up, but missed the stage so he tried out again at the Mankai Company (troupe all of the characters are in). Of course, as fate has it, Tasuku had just left GODza after their... unsavory business tactics, but the troupe had blacklisted him from becoming an actor at any other high end troupes in the area, leaving him to go to the Mankai Company. And of course times 2, he and Tsumugi try out for the same troupe. Tasuku is less than pleased with seeing Tsumugi's face after he just disappeared before, and things between them are tense, especially when Tasuku gets fed up with Tsumugi's lack of confidence after he becomes the troupe's leader. But!! Fate wants them to get along (and be together) and Tsumugi finds this cursed doll that traps them in a time loop of the same day. They're stuck until they resolve their issues. Nothing like a good ol divine intervention to get two friends to lovers back together. tldr Tsumugi owns up to his insecurities to Tasuku and works to overcome it. In the process, while performing their play in an act off (if they end up in the competition ill actually essay about it) Tsumugi feels that his acting is inferior once again and totally bombs a show. Tasuku finally works around his own regrets of not reaching out before when Tsumugi had "quit," telling him how much he loves and envies Tsumugi's acting, and apologizes to Tsumugi. Then boom they pull off an incredibly gay play about angels and become lovers (not canon but Trust me).

please let me write properly about them and put them in i love my blorbos <3 they were made for this tournament

Submission 2:

absolute best friends in childhood who had a very impactful falling out, but managed to resolve things. nowadays they're in a theatre troupe together where their troupe is quite literally married.

Submission 3:

1. CHILDHOOD FRIENDS

2. Their introductory arc was literally a whole divorce-reunion arc. They divorced because Tsumugi failed an audition into the God Squad theatre troupe while Tasuku got in which was a blow to Tsumugi's confidence as an actor and he ran away and Tasuku was mad at him for that. It was literally so bad that the game had to break its slice-of-life genre to introduce a doll that traps people in a timeloop until they're able to make up, and they (and another guy who's kinda a cryptid) are the only ones aware that the day keeps repeating

3. After one of their shows, Tsumugi overhears some audience members criticising him and comparing him to Tasuku, which leads to him changing his acting style in the next show which completes bombs their show. Out of shame, Tsumugi runs away, and it takes Tasuku some hesitating before chasing after him and finally telling him how he REALLY feels -- that he was guilty for not being able to do anything to help Tsumugi when he failed that audition years ago and ran away, and that he admires Tsumugi's acting for what it is. The anime makes this scene even gayer by having them meet on a bridge in the snow and Tasuku holding an umbrella over Tsumugi's head as he pours his heart out to Tsumugi

4. Tsumugi regains his confidence after hearing that, and they finally FINALLY 100% reconcile

[stormsongroleplays]

Seeking Literate Partners

Hi, you can call me Storm! I'm 30 and the mom of a loud and demanding cat ❤️

I’m a multiple paragraphs/novella style writer. I love to write detailed descriptions and delve into a character’s head/emotions as well as surroundings. I compare it to writing a novel together. Not every reply has to be novella length, however. If there are action or dialogue heavy scenes, I tend to do a shorter back and forth to keep the momentum going. 

I only do MxF (with me writing the female role). I don’t double, but I’m more than happy to write side characters of either gender to help move the story along. I only want female authors writing male characters as I’m uncomfortable with male authors. (Nonbinary pals are an exception).

I'm really hoping to find a friendship, someone who can add to our story, and most importantly, someone who wants a long-term connection. It's difficult for me to write with someone if I don't feel that genuine bond. It's also important to me to have a high level of activity, with at least one reply a day. 

If you suddenly stop replying ic and ooc, I'll drop the story after 2 attempts of gauging interest spaced a week apart. But feel free to message me if you want to pick the story back up again, even months later. 

Searching For: 

20+ partners only 

An excellent grasp of grammar, punctuation, spelling, and capitalization. (Literate to advanced writers only, please. I'm not looking for newbies)

Plot before smut. While mature themes will be in my writing, there needs to be chemistry between our characters. I normally do a 60/40 plot to smut ratio and my characters tend to be subs/switches depending on the circumstances 

 An older male character (early forties to mid-late fifties). I love the gruff and tough men with dark pasts who secretly have a soft heart. I also love grumpy, hypermasculine men being intimidated by sweet but fiery women. My characters are mid-late twenties to early-mid thirties so the age gap is legal. 

I'm not looking for age play. It's a romance between two consenting adults who each act exactly their age, and they just happen to be different ages. 

Enthusiasm to chat about our character and ship, how to crush them and then gushing over fluffy moments. I love crying over characters and what the heck they’re doing. I want my heart ripped from my chest from angst, then feeling like it’s going to burst from overwhelming cuteness. I want us to love these characters and the world we create. I want to make pinterest boards, spotify playlists, graphics, and toss headcanons back and forth until late at night. 

Have an idea for a scene? Found a picture that inspired you? Send it to me! Be invested when it comes to plotting/worldbuilding. There’s nothing worse than receiving one sentence in reply to two paragraphs of ideas, or having a doormat partner who says “sure” to whatever I ask. Building ideas one on top of the other, watching them snowball into amazing plot threads brings me joy. But having to pull plot ideas like I’m pulling teeth makes me think you’re not interested, and I will lose interest in return.

Interests: 

Modern fantasy, monsters, sci-fi, omegaverse, southern gothic/midwest gothic (i’m a sucker for that southern/texas drawl), horror, height/size difference, cheating/affair, enemies to lovers, slow burn romance, spooky small towns, post apocalyptic/dystopia, crime/mysteries, emotionally charged/dark and gritty, bodyguard x assignment, forced proximity, opposites attract, fated mates, anti heroes/morally gray characters, traumatic pasts, grumpy x sunshine, one bed, men who simp over their women, touch her / him and die, and more.

I have lots of original plot ideas in mind as well!

Fandoms (OCs ONLY) 

Star Wars, Stranger Things, Mercy Thompson Series, True Blood, The Last of Us, Hunger Games, Fallout (TV Show)

I write only on discord using servers with organized channels. Like this post or add me on discord (magicofrain) if you’re interested. The most effective way to grab my genuine interest is by messaging me as if we've been friends for years. Please let me know which interests you liked from my ad.

[acourtofthought]

Tbh it feel to me that feyre and rhys had more sexual tension in their book than nesta and cassian had in theirs

I’m certain elucien will continue to have delicious sexual tension in their book but gwynriel? Worried about that

I agree with your thoughts on Feysand versus Nessian though it made sense for the personality of the characters. Even before Cassian and Nesta got together, she used sex as a coping mechanism and she carried that over once she and Cassian began interacting. When she refused to acknowledge the feelings between them and instead focused on the physical, it was difficult to feel tension building because they didn't spend a lot of time denying themselves, they jumped into things pretty quickly. And it worked for their story, I understand why SJM wrote it the way she did, but that's not my personal favorite trope in romance (I enjoy slow-burn). With Gwynriel, I could see her taking the Rowan / Aelin route. Neither looked at the other in that way for quite awhile. They started at odds and he wouldn't even call her a friend as he was training her at first. (Sounds a bit familiar right? "Wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend"). Then they ended up sleeping in bed together, but platonically. Really, I don't think book 3 of the TOG series gave us any real sexual tension between the two of them, it wasn't until halfway through book 4 that we started seeing it. I also think we'll see that Az initially tries denying any attraction he might feel for Gwyn because he wants to be respectful of what she went through, not being sure whether she would welcome his thoughts / advances. And really, that would be an excellent setup for those two. First because we've already seen Az in lust. All the times he stared at Mor with heat and yearning, the fact that he was lusting after Elain. Since he came onto the page in book 2, he was fixated on one female then jumped straight to another and I think him first being drawn to Gwyn for who she is and not letting his mind drift to the physical with her is what would make her stand apart from the others. I think when Gwynriel gets together, we might not have seen a lot of sexual tension but their first time might be extremely emotional. First because it will be Gwyn's first time when it was her choice and second because it will be Az's first time with someone he's in love with, who he wants and who wants him in return (if we're going off the logic that while he had sex in the last 500+ years, he never stopped loving Mor therefore did not have real feelings for his hook-ups). Now Elucien...... This one is more difficult for me to predict because we haven't gotten into Elain's mind. I would bet Lucien isn't making a move until Elain gives him a flashing neon sign. Maybe with a marching band thrown into things to really get her message across. He's been struggling with his restraint over the last two years but I bet he'll continue holding himself back out of fear of scaring her away, even after she starts showing interest.

And I don't doubt Elain will hold herself back in the beginning because she was raised to be prim and proper and she's tried holding on to that with both hands after being turned fae. But all those mentions in the book, Feyre trying not to imagine Elain subject to Lucien's fire, Nesta thinking Elain would faint to hear such thoughts, it makes me wonder if Elain behaves in a way that takes us all by surprise. She's the only female who felt the bond snap right away and we know the instincts are difficult for a male to control so maybe she has been going crazy trying to hold herself back from Lucien, distracting herself by ignoring him and instead trying to transfer her feelings onto Az. So maybe she won't last all that long before she can't fight it anymore. Maybe she'll have to perform the Great Rite with Lucien in the beginning and she'll try to convince him she's only doing it for the lands though she's thrilled to finally have a reason to give in. I know there's a lot of conflicting opinions on Elain because SJM has kept her in the dark but I do love how SJM has set her character up for so many possibilities, how nothing is off the table for her because we just don't know.