#so much pretty so much lovely so much of our boys

[ashblooddragons]

Better Me For You

This request was made by an Anon

Summary: When Daemon decided to stay in Pentos he never expected to find live again. He only wanted to make his girls happy. But in the end he figures put how to do both.

Word Count: 5873

Warnings: Daemon being Daemon, pretty much pure fluff, slight angst but only at the beginning, memories of past loved ones, tell me if I missed anything

Driftmark 

Daemons pov

I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling thinking of all my mistakes. I mean Seven hells I fucked Rhaenyra on the beach the night of Laena’s funeral. And it was disappointing to say the least. 

It wasn't anything like I built it up in my head. It was the exact opposite. Seems having three sons by that giant of a man stretched her more than I thought it would. 

I stretch my arms out before resting them behind my head. The sound of waves crashing the shore reminds me where Laena is. That she's gone and all I could think about the night of her funeral was where I could put my cock the quickest. 

I truly am a monster of a man. I think with a long sigh. 

But just as I decide to turn on my side to let sleep take me does a quiet knock come to my door. 

“Kepa, can we stay with you?” I hear the tearful voice of Baela ask. 

I climb out of bed and walk towards the door. I hear their sniffles, more than likely a mix of their Mother’s death and the events of tonight. And when I open my door I'm greeted by my two little girls, my whole damn world and they have tear stained cheeks and red rimmed eyes as they cling to each other for dear life. 

“Come here.” I say holding my arms open for them. And without a thought they run towards me jumping into my arms. 

I start walking towards my bed kicking the door shut before dropping them on the bed and a little giggle falls from both their lips. But that only lasts all but a second before their solem looks return. 

I climb into bed, them both curling up beside me as if trying to have some semblance of their life before Laena’s death. 

“We want to say sorry to Prince Aemond. But I don't think he'll accept it.” Rhaena says before wiping her runny nose. 

“He probably won't, but it will help him in the long run.” I say knowing my girls didn't truly take part in maiming the boy. But they did start the argument and they feel awful that their grief disabled someone even if it was someone they don't know. 

“I just wanted a chance to claim Vhagar.” Rhaena sobs and I feel her hot tears against my chest. 

I stroke her locks and kiss her brow in hopes of calming the storm that has overtaken her little heart.

Always so sensitive to others emotions, so much like your Mother. I think with a sad smile knowing that it is a blessing and a curse for her. 

“I didn't expect Jace to pull the knife. I wanted to stop him, Kepa, I swear, but I was so scared he would turn it on me or Rhaena.” Baela says her own tears rolling down her cherub cheeks. 

Always the protector, so much like me. I think as I whisper how it wasn't their fault. That they didnt do anything wrong. But I know they won't care for my words. The guilt is too large and the grief too crushing. 

“I want to go home.” I hear Baela say next and I can't help but frown. 

“We are home, Westeros is our home.” I say a bit too sternly if their tensed shoulders are any indicator. 

“Westeros is your home. We don't know this place, we don't know these people.” Rhaena says and I can't help but agree. 

They have never met these people who mourn their Mother, never met these children that try and play with them and be friends. They have no ties here. 

And neither do I, not anymore. I think as my choice of my girls future starts to solidify. 

“Let me think on it, many people wish for us to stay. I don't wish to anger them, but I also don't want to tear your worlds apart more than the gods already have.” 

I feel them nod their heads and within a couple minutes I hear their soft snores fill the room. 

Unsurprisingly the next morning my brother wants to talk. 

“Have you thought about my proposal?” 

I don't respond, only look him up and down taking in his hobbled and run down state. 

There is truly nothing they can do, they can only make him comfortable. I think before clearing my throat. 

“I have, and I'm afraid I must decline. Though I miss home, I can't destroy my girl's lives more than the gods have.” 

He stops almost seeming caught off guard before a smile takes over his face. 

“I understand, please do come visit though. Perhaps even let Rhaena find another dragon egg or attempt to claim a beast.” 

All I do is nod before turning to look at my girls who to anyone else would seem to be talking to the young Prince Aemond. But I know what they are doing, they are apologizing with every fiber of their being in hopes of at least attempting to right their wrongs. 

“Mayhaps a betrothal is in our future. One of your girls with one of my sons?” Viserys suggested playfully nudging me with his elbow. 

“The only way I would agree is if one of my girls would be Queen.” I say turning to him and I see the way his eyes shine with understanding.

“The Prince Jace isn't yet betrothed.” He says but I scoff, turning on my heels to watch the waves my late wife used to call home one last time. 

I look down at the sea thinking of all the stories Laena told me of her childhood.

"When I was a little girl I loved collecting seashells by the shore. The waves lapping at my feet, the smell of salt filling my lungs, the sound of clanking from my little wicker basket from all the shells I had collected so far. It was my perfect day, I once asked my Father to let me do that for my Nameday. He let me, for a little bit before the feasts took place.” She says her fingers intertwined with mine as her head lays on my chest, wild curls even more rustled from a vigorous lay. 

“I was hoping to speak with you Uncle.” I hear Rhaenyra say from behind me. Her voice is set in that sultry whisper and hum that she used last night. I can't help the smirk of amusement that rises to my lips. 

It hardly worked last night, it most definitely won't work this morning. I think before schooling my face into cold indifference when she comes to stand next to me. 

She stares at me waiting for me to speak, but I won't. I have nothing to say to her, not anymore. 

“Laenor will be useless now that his sister is gone. Though he was before that as well.” She starts searching for any reaction but I know she will find none. “I need a husband who will defend me against the Greens. One that will be as fearsome as I.” 

I can't help but chuckle and from the smile she gives me I know she thinks I'm laughing at Laenor and not at the thought of her ever being fearsome. 

“And what does this have to do with me?” I ask but I already know, Rhaenyra never was good at being discreet whether with her actions or words. 

“Let us wed in the tradition of our house. Like Aegon the conqueror and his sister-wives.” 

I try to see if there is any jest in her tone but from her stern face I know she is being serious. And I can't help but laugh. 

“What? What is so funny?” She demands in that tone she always had had she doesn't get her way. 

Gods, she has three sons and yet still acts like a spoiled three year old. No wonder they thought an insult was reason enough to take another eye.  I think as I wipe a few stray tears. 

“No.” Is all I say and by her bewildered face I can tell she will want more. 

“What do you mean no?” 

I snicker before facing her fully with an amused grin. 

“No, I will not marry you. Because I do not want to. We fucked, Rhaenyra, nothing more nothing less. And if I'm honest, if you didn't throw yourself at me I probably would've just gone to a brothel.” 

I watch as her face turns red in fury. The way her hands clenched into fists until her knuckles are white. But I don't stop smirking at her in the most condescending way I can. 

“I thought you wanted me.” She hisses out tears rimming her eyes but not from heartache, pain, betrayal, or even sadness. These tears are pure rage. 

“I did, key word being did.” I say before saying the words that will bring the nail in the coffin. “I'm going back to Pentos. Don't come and visit, my girls are already afraid of your boys. I don't need your hellions invading the only place they've ever felt safe.” 

And with that I walk over to my girls who wait for me in their riding leathers. 

“Will Caraxes be able to fit all of us?” Rhaena asks concerned but not because she fears being cramped, but because she worries we will all be too heavy for the beast. 

“Yes, just because he isn't as large as Vhagar doesn't mean he can't handle me and two little rug rats for girls.” I say pretending to growl which makes them laugh.

And I can't help the heart ache at hearing it. They haven't let themselves laugh, truly laugh since their Mother passed. So hearing it now, it means all the world. 

“Alright, say goodbye to your grandparents. And don't worry they will visit soon, in a moon's turn I believe.” I say eyeing Lord Corlys and my raven haired cousin Rhaenys. 

“Yes, and I plan on bringing Meleys, perhaps you can fly with me and your Father. Perhaps a race?” 

I watch as their eyes sparkle with pure joy, and a soft, kind, even genuine smile rises to my lips. 

Pentos 

Your pov

I walk through the market eyeing the produce for dinner tonight. I may be a Lord's daughter but my Mother was low born. She had to cook for herself and she instilled this craft in me from a young age. 

“We may have wealth now, but it could all crumble away. And I will not have my little girl be helpless in a world where men thrive off of suffering.” She always says. 

I remember the first thing I cooked, or I should say baked. A blueberry pie, I was three Namedays old and all I wanted was a blueberry pie. So my Mother got the ingredients and had me and my Father in the kitchen with her as we baked them. My Father always messed his up, one was burned to the point there was no jam or sauce, and another was so raw the blueberries were still cold. Though he swears he had them in for the same amount of time. 

But Mother stood next to me, helping me mix the crust, her hands over mine as she helped push into the dough. She then helped me make the filling. Then we poured the blueberries into a warm post with a bit of lemon juice and water. And once everything was done and baked she pulled it and it was perfect. 

I remember thinking it was the best Nameday ever. And ever since we have always baked desserts as a family for my Nameday. And today will be no different, especially since I am now a woman grown. A woman of ten and eight ready to find a husband, is what I know my Father would say. 

“May I have a dozen red apples?” I ask the merchant who quickly nods before choosing the best options. 

I turn around looking at the other stalls deciding which to go to next. 

“I need cinnamon, maple syrup, and lemons.” I whisper to myself when excited chatter catches my attention. 

“Come on Rhaena, the sweets are this way!” I see a little girl with wild curls, soft brown skin, and violet eyes say to another girl who has many long and thin braids through her hair, the same skin tone, and instead of violet eyes she has a soft periwinkle almost pink. 

“I'm coming Baela! I just want to make sure Kepa can see us.” The other girl I assume is named Rhaena says as she picks up the skirt of her baby pink dress as she runs after her sister. 

I can't help but smile at their antics. I always wished for a younger sister but alas I am an only child. My parents didn't go into it much but from what I understand my Mother almost died birthing me, it was such a tragic birth the Maesters said she could never have more children. Now she drinks Moontea once a week. 

“Here you are, My Lady.” The merchant says holding out my crocheted bag now filled with apples. 

“Thank you, sir.” I say as I pay him before putting the bag into my large wicker basket. 

I then turn to watch the two girls buy their sweets, but instead of a smile coming to my face a look of horror does. I watch as a group of men eye the girls before looking back and forth to make sure no one is watching them. I start to move closer to the girls before I practically go into a sprint when I watch one start to move towards them. 

By some miracle I get to the girls before he does and I touch their shoulders saying. “There you two are, how are my favorite girls. Let's go find your Father, hmm?” 

The girls look up at me confused so I bend down to whisper in their ears. 

“There is a group of men behind me, they are from slavers bay. I swear I will jot leave your side until we find your parents.” 

They both look at each other wide eyed before looking behind me and I watch as fear takes over their faces when they see the group of men. 

“Alright, I was hoping to see Father anyways.” The one called Baela says as she holds my hand and makes sure Rhaena takes my other one. 

We quickly turn and start walking away from the men. I whisper to the girls not to look behind them. And thank the gods they listen. 

“What does your Father look like, or perhaps your Mother.” I say looking around for anyone who looks like them. 

“Muna's dead, the baby killed her.” Rhaena says with a sad look and I can't help the guilt that rises in me at opening an already painful wound.

“I'm terribly sorry.” I say as I run my hands down their heads as I look around for any man who seems to be searching for his children. 

“Kepa has light skin, it's not like ours or yours. It's almost like milk. His hair is silver, and his eyes are the color of lilacs.” Baela says as she searches for their Father as well. 

I nod my head remembering my Valyrian studies from when my Father was making trades with Volantis. He wanted at least one person in the house to sort of understand the language. 

“Then I suggest we look for a man who is pretty much the embodiment of the color white.” I say which makes them giggle. 

But just as quickly as I say my jest does a man call out for the girls names. 

“Baela! Rhaena!” I hear, someone can tell the man is in pure panic if only from his voice alone. 

Kepa!” The girls call out and within seconds a man matching their description pushes through two merchants and stares down at the girls. 

“I thought I told you to stay where I could see you.” He chastises as he kneels down and holds them close in a bone crushing hug. 

“We're sorry.” Rhaena says in a tearful voice. 

I can already tell she is a girl who feels her emotions and isn't ashamed of it. 

A good trait to have. I think with a smile. 

“This nice lady saved us. Bad men tried to steal us.” Baela says looking up at me. 

“Bad men? What?” The man asks as he stands up and eyes me. 

“Five men from slavers bay, I barely got to the girls in time.” I say as I eye the man. 

They never said he would be so attractive. I think fighting a blush that demands to rise to my cheeks. 

He has long white hair that reaches just past his shoulders. His eyes are the shade of lilacs so much so I swear the scent fills the market square. But what stands out is his strong build. His arms are strong yet lean, his chest clearly has been sculpted by the finest artists for I just know once he takes off his clothes it will be like looking at a god made flesh. 

But I quickly snap myself out of it when I see him smirk and hold his hand out in greeting. 

“Thank you, my lady, not many would look put for two rugrats like these two.” He says and I can't help but smile when the girls make noises of offense. 

“It is no problem. I know I would want someone to do it for me.” I say taking his hand in mine and I can't help but gasp at the Shockwave that goes through me. And from the way his eyes widened he felt it too. 

“Well I wish I could repay you, so name your price.” He says looking around the booths. 

I think for a moment before looking at the little girls who stare up at me as if I hold the moon and the stars in the palm of my hands. And I quickly know what I want in return for helping the girls. 

“Though I don't need anything for saving these sweet girls. I will ask that you join me tonight. Today is my nameday, I turn eight and ten. There will be a small feast and I would be overjoyed for you three to join.” I say and I already can tell they will be coming from how the girls gasp and turn around to beg their Father to say yes. 

“Alright, alright, calm yourselves.” He says to the girls who grin up at him with victorious gleams in their eyes. “We would love to.” He says with a smile. 

“Good, I'll give you the address, but I will need your names for the guest list.” I say eyeing the man hoping he doesn't have some horrible name like Earl. 

“Daemon, Daemon Targaryen.” He says and I freeze when I heat his name. 

Well at least it's a good name, but it's owned by a very feared man. I think before nodding. 

“Which makes you two, Baela Targaryen and Rhaena Targaryen.”  I smile when they both quickly nod their heads with such enthusiasm I swear they may snap. 

“Well I will see you tonight then.” I say turning and leaving to try and remember what exactly I came to the market for. 

I stand in front of my mirror. I don't think I've ever spent more time choosing a dress. In the end I chose a darling blue dress that has some silver embroidery. 

“I've never seen you so meticulous about a dress before.” I hear my Mother say from behind me. 

I turn to see her in all her stunning glory. Deep tan skin that is more like honey in color than my Father's olive tone. Her hair is loose dark brown curls that cascade down her back. And her eyes are that of emerald green.

When people hear my mother was a low born comman girl they are always shocked. Because for some reason the only beauties of the world can be of noble blood. 

“I invited someone, someone important. And I want to make a good impression.” I say as I look down at the two necklaces I'm stuck on. 

One is a pearl choker with a deep amethyst in the middle. And the other is a gold necklace with sapphires engraved into it. Both are lovely, but neither will impress a Prince. 

“I say the choker, it compliments your eyes best.” My Mother says as she reaches for it and gestures for me to lift my hair for her. “Who did you invite that could be so important?” She asks as she gently clips the necklace before stepping back to see her handy work. 

“Daemon, his name is Daemon Targaryen.” I say and I hear the gasp that leaves her lips. 

“And you only thought of telling me this now? Gods, I still have flour on me.” She scolds as she starts wiping at her face furiously. 

I can't help but smile at her antics. 

“You look perfect, Mother. Stop worrying.” 

She sighs at my words and holds my hands in hers with a smile etched into her face. 

“Well then we best get down there, don't want to leave a Prince waiting.” 

I can't help but laugh at her obvious jab. 

Maybe I should've said something sooner. I shouldn't have let my nerves get the best of me. I think as we walk down our winding staircase. 

I hear the chatter of men and the clank of wine glasses hitting another. I can already tell most of Father's friends have come. 

“Remember to smile, I know some are obnoxious but we need to make a good face.” Mother says before taking my hand and entering the ballroom. 

I force a smile on my lips as we pass some of the more…unsavory men in my Father's group. I see the way they look at me, with intent, with hunger, with desire. And that isn't what bothers me, I've had these looks thrown my way for years. It's the fact they don't even try to hide it as their wives have their arms wrapped around theirs. As their children beg for their attention. 

The ways of men truly are disgusting. I think as I hold my head high and make sure they don't see even a fraction of a reaction cross my features. 

“Ah, there are my darling girls!” Father says and I can't help but giggle at his unadulterated joy. 

He has never, not once, held back from showing the world how much he adores me and my Mother. He oftentimes will even brag to other men how we are his whole world. To say seeing the love he has for my Mother has made me have high standards in the eyes of nobility would be an understatement. But my Father has sworn to me I will not be wed off until I find a man who makes me feel safe, makes me feel adored, makes me feel loved !and who I love in return. 

“Here we are.” My Mother says in that soft lilting voice that she only ever has for my Father. I already know she is looking at him as if he is the very sun that warms her skin. 

My Father goes to speak when our announcer calls out. 

“Prince Daemon Targaryen, of house Targaryen, and his daughters Lady Baela Targaryen and Rhaena Targaryen.” 

Everyone freezes as we watch these gods made flesh walk into the room. And I don't blame them. 

Baela is wearing a deep rich navy blue dress that is covered in pearls, diamonds and gold embroidery. Even her hair has gems braided into her darling little bun. And Rhaena out did herself as well, wearing a magenta dress with gold embroidery of dragons and waves, and the sleeves and bodice of the dress are covered in pearls and diamonds. And her hair is still in those small braids all along her head, but now they have little gold clamps in place with rubies in the middle of each clip. 

But it is the Prince that holds my attention. In his black jerkin that seems to have scaled sewn into the shoulders and chest. And he wears a deep crimson linen undershirt that also holds golden dragon embroidery. And at his hip lays the famous blade called Dark Sister. 

I feel my heart skip a beat as I watch him look around the room in search of someone. No, not someone, he's in search of me. 

“M-My Prince, what brings you here?” My Father asks and before the Prince can answer my Mother gets on her tiptoes and whispers in my Father's ear what I had forgotten to inform them about. “I see.” He says, eyeing me in a playful glare before facing the Prince who has made his way towards us. 

“It seems in my daughter's excitement for her Nameday she forgot to inform us of your comings, My Prince.” 

I feel my heart beat rapidly, it almost feels like it's going burst from my chest. But I force myself to calm before anything truly happens. And to my relief the Prince chuckles. 

“No worries, My Lord. It was a last minute invitation.” He says, eyeing his daughters who excitedly whisper to the other as they look up at me. 

“Ah, well then I'm not too upset with her then.” Father says, giving me a playful wink as he nudges me with his elbow. 

I go to respond when I almost fall over by the two girls running towards me huddling my skirts. 

“Will you play with us?” They ask at the same time. 

I watch as their Father tries to reel them telling them I have many things to do, but instead of letting him ruin theirs or my own fun I look down and ruffle their hair. 

“Tag!” I say tapping Rhaena's nose before turning around and running off. I hear them yell how it isn't fair before I hear Baela groan and I already know Rhaena turned and tagged her. 

And for most of the night I spent laughing with these two little girls who followed me around as if I held the whole world in my palms. I don't know why they gravitated towards me so, but what I do know is I won't tell them not to. Not after they told their Mother had passed. 

But what I didn't see was the way their Father looked at me. Like I was a blessing from the gods sent to save him. If I saw that then I wouldn't have been as shocked when he started courting me a week later. 

It's been five moons since I met the Prince, and since then there is hardly a day we don't see each other. Whether it is a simple walk through the gardens or a dinner with the girls. I see him each and every day. 

And now isn't any different, I feel the cool breeze of the spring wind against my skin as we walk through his estates gardens. The scent of oak trees and roses fills my lungs. 

“So tell me, how did your parents meet?” He asks me and I hide my smirk when I catch him eyeing my cleavage. 

“She was the daughter of a sailor, she is from here, just like my Father. But they didn't meet until she was five and ten and he was seven and ten. His Father wished to use my Grandfather's ship for a trade deal. And well let's just say the rest just fell into place. That is at least the story they tell me.” I say with a smile. 

He hums nodding along with his own smirk. “They are a perfect pair. I don't think I've ever seen two people so devoted to the other since my Mother passed.” He says matter of factly, but I see the pained look in his eyes. The way they almost seem far off, like he is looking at something he desires most in the world but it's out of reach. 

“They are, many people think they are newly weds when they first meet them. But they are far from it, married twenty two years.” 

He looks at me and I can see something brewing in his mind. Though I don't say anything, if he wants to ask or tell me something he may in his own time. 

“Rhaena's dragon has yet to hatch.” He says abruptly. 

I look over at him in confusion, I never understood why it mattered to him so much. She is still young and can claim a dragon like he did but for some reason he needs this egg to hatch. 

“I am aware, she is quite saddened by it.” I answer in a tone that shows my confusion. 

He sighs, nodding his head. “I know, and it kills me every day that it doesn't hatch. It has yet to turn to stone but it just won't hatch?” He says in a confused tone his features morph into one's of pure frustration. 

I freeze looking at him fighting my anger. 

“I have noticed something, you spend quite a bit of time with Baela compared to Rhaena. I tried day and night to figure out why. But one day it hit me, you had brought me to watch her train with Moondancer.” I say in a calm tone that I know is more menacing than kind. 

“What are you on about?”

“That you avoid your daughter because she has no dragon. Something she has no control over. And if I am to continue to be courted by you, and possibly marry you. Then I need you to be better for those girls.” 

I watch as he freezes in shock, perhaps because no one has truly told him of his failings. Or perhaps it is because he hadn't realized that I had put thought into marriage with him. Either way he is wide eyed now and is opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. 

“The hour is late, My Prince, I will leave you to think about what we discussed.” I say before turning around and walking away towards my family's wheelhouse.

I didn't think he would truly put thought to them, that he would take action to be better. But the next day I was invited back to his estate, much to my shock. But instead of being greeted by him I stand alone in front of the dragonpit. 

I turn to look at the guard that guided me here. 

Surely he wouldn't jest? I think as I eye the stern-faced man. But just as quickly as the thought comes, does a loud screech reaches my ears. 

I instantly look up to find the Prince's dragon Caraxes flying towards me. He doesn't slow down which makes me wonder if he sees me until he dives to the left and lands with a loud slam that shakes the very earth. 

“That was amazing!” I hear and look up and see Rhaena grinning from ear to ear. 

She wastes no time climbing down and running towards me. 

“Did you see me? I got to use some commands!” She says hugging me around my middle. 

“I did, but I didn't realize that was you.” I say with a grin of my own. 

“She's a natural.” We hear and both look towards the Prince who smiles back at us. 

Rhaena giggles at the compliment before a frown comes to her face when her Father tells her to go inside. 

“Will you stay for dinner? We're having lamb roast.” She says with such pleading eyes that even if I wanted to say no I couldn't. 

“Of course I will, but I believe you should ask your Father that question.” I suggest but she only gives me a mischievous grin. 

“He does what he's told.” She says before skipping towards her guard who helps her into a wheelhouse. 

I look back at the Prince who has his head thrown back laughing. 

“She isn't usually so sassy, I guess flying boosted her confidence.” He says with a chuckle as he walks towards me. 

The smell of suffering and charred meat fills my nose. It is a smell I originally disliked, but now find comfort in. 

“Seems so.” I agree, waiting to see what he says next. 

He stops for a moment, as if thinking over his next words. And I allow him to do so. No point in pressuring him to speak when he isn't ready. 

Finally after what seems like an eternity he finally speaks. 

“You were right, I do neglect Rhaena. I don't mean to, but I think a part of me doesn't know how to. They are so young and pure, and I'm a villain. With Baela I have the chance to at least talk about dragons with her. But Rhaena…it's just different.” He says and I can see this took a lot of courage to admit. 

“You are not a villain, My Prince–” I say but he cuts me off. 

“Daemon, call me Daemon. No need for titles.” 

I freeze when he says this, for there is truly nothing reason to use his true name. Especially without the titles. 

I decide to nod and clear my throat trying to recoup myself. 

“You are not a villain, Daemon.” I say feeling the way his name leaves my lips. It feels like it always was supposed to be this way. 

“And how do you know that?” He retorts in an almost enraged tone. 

“Because name one villain who would try to be a better person just to see their daughter smile? Name one villain who would go to a girl's nameday party after only just meeting her. Name a villain who has chosen their children over their own lusts and desires?” With each sentence I step towards him until our chests are only a breath apart. 

“You don't know all the things I have done.” He breathes out as if truly saying it will make me demand to know. 

“I'm sure I don't, but I would love to. And even then, I will tell you that you are not a villain.” I whisper back as I look into his deep lilac eyes. 

And within seconds his hands reach to hold my face in his soft yet firm grip as he devours my lips. 

I can't help but whimper when his tongue slips into my mouth. The taste of bitter wine fills my pallet. 

“Marry me.” He whispers between kisses. “I swear I'll be a better man, a better Father to the girls, a better me for you.” 

I am stunned by his words. I want to respond, need to. But the words escape me. So instead I kiss him as fiercely as I can, pouring all my hopes, dreams, wants, and desires into it. 

“Yes.” Is all I whisper before kissing him again. 

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @themoonlitquill @technicallylegendaryenemy @athzhowakar @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @thelastemzy

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⠀ ⠀ PARTY 4 U ⠀ ⠀ CH . 01 ⠀ ⠀ JOAQUIN TORRES A . K . A FALCON / F ! READER⠀⠀

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SUMMARY ⋆ joaquin finds love on a dating app && does anything he can to get her closer . WARNINGS ⋆ fluffy for now / next chapters will def have smut / not - a - superhero ! au / wealthy , lowkey sugar daddy ! joaquin / mutual pining / they r in luvvvv lowk / awkward convos / banter / joaquin has some dirty thoughts / 3rd person POV ; no use of Y/N WORD COUNT ⋆ 2 . 8 k NOTES ⋆ i made a tiny lil playlist to go with this , u can listen to it here !! all my love for danny ramirez came flooding back n i couldn't stop thinking of him as lover boy mcgee ... dreamy sigh ... enjoy !!

A swipe of her thumb changed the trajectory of the summer for the better. What was meant to be a slothful three months of taking it day by day, hoping, praying for any excitement to befall the lazy crawl of time became late nights tapping away at her phone, and endless conversations with a boy in another timezone: Joaquin. The dating app had been a distraction, uninstalled as soon as his number made its way into her contacts, texts traded for images. Innocent, as it always starts, he sent himself, in the gym, muscular arms flexed, pretty pearly whites flashing in a charming smile. Tan skin, overgrown curls slanting into playful eyes, she’d found herself intimidated, yet enthralled all the same.

He was treating her. It was only right she rewarded him in return.

Joaquin’s recompense took the form of a mirror selfie in a dressing room; a baby pink dress, made to be taken off, kissing, clinging to every curve — mouth watering. To add to his torture, she’d followed the vision up with: so cute, so expensive. Exposed by the exchange, their definitions of expensive were worlds apart. 

$3000 received from Joaquin Torres: ‘Wear it for our first date.’

“Joaquin, that’s too much, you have to take it back,” she’d whined over the phone minutes later, a deep chuckle coming from his end of the line. 

“You said it was expensive—”

“Yeah, eighty bucks!” Too loud, catching glares from other shoppers, she sighed and lowered her voice. “It was only eighty bucks. I can afford that, I’m sending it back.” She was still shaken from the notification, fingers trembling, intending to do as she said, brought to an end by his answer.

“No.” Joaquin’s tone was firm, his grin audible, his mind made up. “Keep it, buy yourself other pretty things to wear for me. You need more, you let me know.” 

Men in the real world can’t be trusted, men online ought to be monsters, but there are always outliers; a man too good to be true that happens to be true after all. With money in her account, and shopping bags littering her bedroom, she’d convinced herself that Joaquin was her Prince Charming, sent to her by Aphrodite herself to save her from the lonely, boyfriend-less, love-empty, paycheck-to-paycheck life, that his interest reflected hers identically. He was respectful, kind, patient, and had yet to bring up the topic of sex, whereas any other man in his seat would’ve begun posing with his cock in his hand. The bar was low, and Joaquin was in his home gym, using it to make those strong arms of his all the more delicious, raising it with ease.

A month and a half into being matchmade, one night on FaceTime, after almost an hour of blissful silence, Joaquin asked, “You wanna come to my party next weekend?” The question was posed as though there weren’t thousands of miles between them, met with hesitation on her end, causing him to continue: “I’ll fly you out Thursday, we can hang on Friday… I’ll take you shopping. Party’s Friday night. It’ll be fun.” He sounded nervous, fumbling for words to convince her. Those brown puppy dog eyes twinkling below furrowed brows, gazing at her lips, waiting for them to part, only to cut her off when they did, trying his very best to stave off what he thought was oncoming rejection, the rumble of his chest audible in his words as he murmured, “I really want to see you. I want to touch you and kiss you good morning and good night. The texts aren’t enough anymore…” His hands clamping over his face, he fell back onto his bed, out of frame. “Your lips look so soft — you look so soft. Please.” 

How could she say no? 

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Joaquin traces the shield shape of the Porsche logo with his fingertips, his knee bouncing as he watches the automatic sliding doors of the airport gate like a hawk. He’s seen her silhouette a thousand times in pictures, stalking her Instagram, scrolling through their texts, imprinting every line of her figure behind his eyelids. Every moment of downtime is consumed by her, thoughts notching themselves into a spectrum of museum dates and ice cream to her pressed into his mattress, chanting his name like a mantra. Ice cream was easy to discuss, a two-hour conversation about favorite flavors and other sweet treats — a mutual sweet tooth — had distracted him from his work only days prior. He’d called her sweet, she’d giggled, and he’d forced his next set of words to die on his tongue: Can I have a taste?

The doors open, and angels sing. Heavenly beams of light dance over delicate features as she finally appears. A gust of wind blows past, tousles beautiful, beautiful hair, sending her into a bout of struggle as she rushes to fix it, not catching him approaching her in the midst. He calls her name, softly at first, then a bit louder. 

“Joaquin!” She chirps back, sheepish simper on glossy lips. “Hi!” Her arms open, inviting him in; he swoops down, drawing her into his embrace without missing a beat. Pressed to his front, her heels lift off the ground, and when he steps back, his hands remain on her waist. Joaquin’s gaze travels down, down, down, absorbing everything from the stitched flowers on her jeans to the ribbon ties of her shoelaces. Then, up, up, up, waist, chest, a swan-like neck— a face that broke the mold. Their eyes meet, and it dawns on him that she’s doing the same, opening her mouth, but he steals the words before she can speak. 

“You’re real,” he breathes out, his thumbs pressing into her shirt, the warmth of his palms seeping through the fabric. Her smaller hands find his chest, her smile bashful. 

“I am…” 

He doesn’t kiss her just yet, too shaky, too nervous — afraid he’ll lay it on too thick and chase her off. His nerves contradict the romantic perfectionist in him, the one that wants their first kiss to be memorable, not just a formality in front of the airport; a lazy, no-effort thank you for humoring him and taking a flight across the country. The gentlemanly things are in order overall — carrying her bags to the trunk, opening the passenger side door, holding her hand as she climbs into the seat… feigning confidence as her gentle gaze follows his movements, beholding him with a fondness he doesn’t allow himself to translate. He fears if he does, he won’t make it to their destination without spilling all over her. 

“My place first — got all your favorite stuff made for dinner, you gotta eat real food after that bullshit they try to feed you on the plane,” he says with his signature smile, buckling himself in. She adjusts her seatbelt, and shrugs, his brightness contagious; her cheeks already feel warm from grinning so much. 

“I dunno…  I like the snacks they give you! They gave me complimentary champagne, that was nice! I didn’t know rich people got to be drunk for free on flights.” Arguing her case is useless because Joaquin shakes his head as he drives off the sideroad, onto the lane heading towards the freeway. He opens his mouth to declare an equally playful rebuttal when she continues, “But let me guess, it’s cheap, wack champagne. Right? Right, Joaquin?”

He gasps, chokes out a laugh, and then nods, “It’s fucking terrible!” Banter is more common than not between them — Joaquin’s personality thrives off it, his goal in any conversation is to make the other laugh. With her, it’s especially important — special. If he can work his way to one of her mellifluous giggles, his day is made, and the rest of the world can go to hell for all he cares. Over the phone, it’s a piece of cake. When she’s less than arm’s width away, it’s natural, as though the space between them has always been minimal. He tells a joke, she laughs, presses a dainty little hand to his bicep, and he decides he’ll never let that space grow again.

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The GPS blanks out shortly past them turning off the main road, much to her confusion, as the street they’re on is very much paved. Joaquin notes the knit in her brow, and offers a grin with an explanation, “This is the driveway. All this belongs to me— my family, they wanted their house at the center of it all. These are all orchards.”

After all this time, she’s become acutely aware of Joaquin’s financial status. If it weren’t for the downpour of gifts, the stacks of paperwork that occupied his attention during their calls and FaceTimes had made it transparently obvious. However, seeing it before her eyes couldn’t be more jarring. His car takes them from a dark asphalt path to one of sandy, beige stone, leading up to a mansion that’s nothing short of a palace. It’s perfect for California, with a white stone exterior. Rounded tuscan-style tiles of an earthy red shade decorate the roof. Gardeners take delicate care of the flowers surrounding the entrance, and Joaquin greets them with a smile as he drives up to the front door, circling the statue of a headless angel at the center of the roundabout. 

“This is all so beautiful,” she muses, beaming, her orbs and her simper twinkling just alike. “I really appreciate you bringing me here, this is the coolest house I think I’ve ever seen.” Joaquin hums, and tells her it’s not a big deal as he removes his shoes near the entryway, feet sliding into a pair of navy green slippers. Hopping up the stairs leading to the set of wooden double doors, a step and a half behind him, she spins a full circle, ogling at the masterpiece of a lawn from a proper point of view, filling her chest with a deep breath. Her compliment isn’t empty politeness, it truly is the grandest place she’s ever visited. To say she’s out of her depths is an understatement, and she glues her palms to her jeans. She thought she was scared of heights, snakes, or bugs, yet the mere thought of bumping a table and shattering one of the beautiful, priceless glass motifs climbs her list of fears at the speed of light. 

Not only would it drive Joaquin away, and upset him, but in no universe would she be able to financially recover — that is, if she could cover the cost in the first place. 

Joaquin sets a pair of slippers before her, looking almost as skittish as she feels. “You c-could stay here,” he stammers without thinking, eyes widening upon realization, hurriedly attempting to apologize, “Sorry. Not like with me— I know you booked at a hotel, but we have a lot of rooms— I wouldn’t ask you to have sex with me on our first day of—” Cutting himself off mid-sentence, he glances up. She’s staring at him, amused, with that same fondness from earlier. “Stop. Don’t laugh.”

“I wasn’t going to laugh!” 

A chuckle slips past her lips, betraying her. “You’re laughing!” Joaquin grunts, rubbing a hand over his face, shamefaced. It isn’t fair to take her time removing her sneakers and shoving her feet into the provided pearly white slippers, to make him wait. It isn’t fair at all, but what is she to do when he looks so cute standing there, blushing? “Say something… please.”

“I don’t think… that…  and I wouldn’t mind staying over…” she replies, trailing off, looking anywhere but his eyes, teasing him. 

“But? Is there a but in there?” His frown deepens, high cheekbones glowing pink. “You’re still fucking with me!” A sigh, and her countenance softens. 

“You already did so much for me, I owe you so much money, I don’t wanna impose and—”

“I don’t care about that. I’d really — really like it if you spent the night — if you’re comfy enough with me to do that — I know it’s probably weird, though, so I’m probably scaring you — Christ.” This time, he runs both hands down his red hot face, and blurts out, “I really like you! I’m so excited that you’re here and I don’t wanna look like a fuckin’ virgin and give you the ick — you can say no, I won’t be mad, but just know I’ll keep a safe distance and—”

“Don’t want you to keep a safe distance,” she cuts in. It sucks all the air out of his lungs; he waits with bated breath. Her voice subsides, quietens to say, “I’ll stay. I would love to stay… I mean, came all this way to see you, right? I should spend as much time with you as I can, no?” 

“Yeah,  yeah… I think so, too…” Soothed by her answer, Joaquin pads closer, she has to tilt her head up to maintain eye contact. His curls curtain his gaze; longing, locked in on her parted lips — it flicks up, he wordlessly asks for permission, and she lifts her chin in response. Her heart pounds against her ribcage, teeth digging into her lower lip as one large hand snakes around her hip, two fingers in her belt loop. He’s so close, close enough to breathe in his expensive cologne, the one made in 2007 that he always complains about not finding — the mint on his lips, the gum he chews to help him quit smoking. Surreal doesn’t cover it, he’s a materialization of every fun fact he’s ever told her, and sure, that’s how life works, but how could the years craft someone so desirable? Someone she gets the privilege of feeling, her palms against his torso. He’s warm — strong under her touch, and his heart… it threatens to beat out of his chest, right into her hand as he kisses her. He’s all soft lips and careful tugs to her hips, his other hand finds the opposite loop, the pads of his thumbs glide under the hem of her cotton shirt — he kisses her like he’s trying to slow down time; gentle, patient. 

It’s romantic, liplocking in the arched doorway of a mansion surrounded by orchards, the sun setting in front of them, silhouetting them in pinks and purples. She pulls back only once she’s breathless, bunching his shirt into her fists, and Joaquin chases one last peck, followed by a bright white grin that crinkles his eyes. He’s about to speak when an older woman emerges from around the corner, and squeals, picking up speed until she’s standing before them, either oblivious to their closeness or indifferent to it. 

“This is the girl you were telling me about!” She sings the words, smiling from ear to ear. Joaquin, slightly miffed, looks at her and sighs, dragging his hand across the belt of the younger girl’s jeans, over the small of her back to wrap his arm around her waist.

“Yes, mom, this is her,” he groans, his cheeks taking on a rosy hue once more, out of embarrassment this time. A type of embarrassment that only a mother can invoke in her child. He goes about introducing them, gesturing his hand from one to the other, “  —and this is my mom, Esperanza.” 

“I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Esperanza shakes her hand with both of hers, glowing with joy. 

“He talks about me?” 

The grunt Joaquin lets out is answer enough, though Esperanza is more than happy to elaborate: “Oh, yes! At this point, there isn’t much else he talks about. He was so excited about you coming here, he had his outfit set on his bed like picture day was coming up—”

“Mama!” 

“Ah… right. You weren’t supposed to know about that.” Esperanza reaches out and pets his curls dotingly, her laughter mixing with that of their visitor’s. “I’m sorry, cariño, it was an accident!” It’s an endearing sight, the masculine, self-sufficient, all-capable presence that is Joaquin Torres defeated by his adoring mother in front of the girl he’s utterly enamored by. “Shall we eat? I’m very excited for tonight’s dinner, I have so many questions for you!” Then, she boops the younger girl’s nose — boops it, leaving her stunned as she all but dances away. 

“I am so sorry,” Joaquin groans out, covering his eyes with his free hand. Even still, his fingers are wrapped around her waist. “That was so—”

“Cute. That was so cute.” Interrupted for the umpteenth time, he’s once again led away from his anxiety by her sweet voice. “I love your outfit, too…  Very impressed.” A playful scowl tugs at his upper lip and she giggles, pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss it away. 

“Thank god for that,” he murmurs against her mouth, kissing her once more just as his mother’s voice bellows from the opposite end of the hallway, and he rolls his eyes, tugging the girl along towards the dining room. “C’mon.”

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⠀⠀ ⠀ © CLUBSOFT⠀⠀ ⠀

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TAGLIST ⋆ @days1 / @luvrsluxe if u would like 2 be added 2 my tag list 4 my fics , pls click this link && fill out the form !! u will be added immediately && get a notif for my next fic !!

[newkatzkafe2023]

Can I please have a plump and fluffy reader wearing a reverse bunny suit. I really want to see all the wukong reactions to this please

Ohhhhhh absolutely 😉😉😉

(Lmk Wukong) His face was red in shock and aroused, I'm mean you are cute but got are you also sexy. Every position you would put yourself in to show off your outfit, slowly destroys his self control. You bouncing, and jiggling, and prancing around showing those nice pretty legs and thick thighs. Wukong wasn't sure how long he would last but your outfit makes him see everything. Looking all plump and juice and well spoiled and taken care off, Wukong had picked his lips seeing you in that get up. It would look even better on somebody's floor.

(NR Wukong) He would be seriously acting up, like I kid you not he was down terrible. He would be catcalling you like crazy and drooling looking at your new look and thicc parts. Self-control and dignity go right out the window as he throws you over his shoulder and hauls you to the bedroom. After all bunnies are known to be extremely horny creatures, and he wants in on that action.

(HIB Wukong) Oh lord He'll have one hell of an brain aneurism, especially those seeing birthing hips you flashed at him. Wukong might also know that bunnies tend to mate like their lives depend on it, and Wukong wants nothing more then to bend you over. Then rock your world to the point where he's gonna get those baby monkey bunnies one way or another.

(MKR Wukong) Ohhhhh a huge smirk makes it's way across his face, as you shook your hips and bunny tail at him. He'll immediately stalk and chase you around like a predator chasing his prey in the wild, and it soon because a rather smutty nature film. Wukong loves you bunny suit but now he wants to take it off of you, in your shared inn room.

(Netflix Wukong) Squeak and grabs his privates in agony, oh god you shot him with a horn dog gun. It's not often Wukong feels shame but when he does ohhhhhhhhhhh boi, and you make it hard too. You showing him more then what he imagine, trying to keep there paws to themselves but it was so hard, Was beautiful and sexy curves like the ones on you. For now you just let him hump your goddess legs as he pleases, might even have accidentally discharge me.

(BMW Wukong) He'll give you a low whistle as you catwalk next to him showing off your new outfit, however he will so have you bend over note even 5 mins later. You were just so sexy looking like an cute little bunny, then that ass and those birthing hips was the final straw. Wukong soon spend ours showing you just how much he loves you and your curves.

(Destined one) You would have the Destined one walk into things with the way you distract him. You were showing your husband a suit you used to wear and you were wondering if it still fits you, news flash it does infact it'll fit you way to well. The Destined one gets a good look at your legs, and hips, and breast and what's killing him as that sweet behind of your. The second you skate that fine ass at him, well it's over for you so say goodbye to your legs.

(Lotmk Wukong) Wukong never squealed so hard in all his immortal life. You look so adorable, pink, and well plump in the places he secretly loves. Wukong would be biting his lips as he pulls you to the side, trying to find a place for your shared edges. Wukong would soon show you just how much he loves his mama bunny especially when her belly will be full of baby rabbits.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG 🐇

[the0p]

cold

bf!woonhak, non idol, mlm, fluff, fluff, and more fluff. It recently snowed here again, so that's why this is coming out NOW. relatively short, btw also pretty ass cuse this is a shit attempt to get out of writers block

me and woonhak sat on the sofa, his head between my legs, my hand playing with his hair as we both scrolled through our phones. school was called off today thanks to a snowstorm and cold weather, so originally, we were both supposed to stay in and be glued to the sofa, but of course, that was not the case.

woonhak has been nagging and begging me to go out for the last 20 minutes as apparently his whole feed was filled with our classmates out in the snow having a blast.

"Come onnnnnnn, y/nnnnn I promise it will be fun!!" he wined sitting up, trying to pull me up with him.

"Okay, let's say agree. what is the plan, then?" I asked, letting him pull me up as I looked at him. My eyebrow raised.

snow was never really something I found joy in it was wet, cold, and dirty. as much as I loved the colder seasons, this was not at all what I enjoyed.

the boy infront smiled, clasping his hands together. "So there is this park very close to us it's not far, max, probably 10 minutes away. I wanna go there."

"Do you even have the clothes for something like this?" I asked sceptical.

he nodded quickly as he got off the sofa going into his room, bringing out a few winter jackets.

"These should also fit you cuse I know you don't have anything appropriate for this weather." he said, throwing me two of the jackets both black so they were the same in my eyes.

I sighed but got up to change and get ready, not being able to say no when he was so eager to go out. it didn't take long as neither of us needed to put much effort into it.

he got ready first, wearing a red hoodie, jeans, and a puffy vest on top, obviously having more layers under. he looked significantly better than me as I stood in front of the mirror half my face covered with the collar of the jacket, hat, scarf, the full nine yards.

he laughed, walking over to me as I was putting my shoes on. "You do know it's not that cold, right??"

I glared at him, and he quickly shut up, putting his own shoes on as I waited. in my mind, he was way too underdressed for this, so I took my hat off and put it on his head instead. he wined standing up

"y/n I spent so long on my hair don't ruin it" he said taking it off.

I put it back on holding my hands on each side of his face. "I don't need you getting sick. Stop complaining"

he pouted, but nonetheless, he didn't complain. we left our dorm locking up and going outside the cold air, instantly hitting. I shivered, stuffing my hands in my pockets as woonhak seemed to be completely fine.

we walked as he talked, kicking the snow under his feet, his face progressively getting reder as we walked. it was obvious he was cold, but he didn't wanna admit it.

we finally reached the sky dark, only light being the street lamps. woonhaks face light up like a child at a candy store as he saw the piles of snow going straight at it.

I stood next to him, watching and giving him commentary when he asked how his little snowmen looked.

"Come on, let's make one together." he said, pulling me down onto the ground. it wasn't pleasant at all, but I wasn't gonna say no now.

I helped him both of us, making a big snowman that ended up being faceless.

surprisingly enough, as much as I originally thought I hated activities like this, he made everything so much more fun and enjoyable as we laughed and giggled, even ending up having a snowball fight on our way back.

the walk back was quiet, one of his hands in my jacket pocket as we held hands both of us freezing our asses off.

"so...are you glad you agreed??" woonhak asked glancing at me from the side.

"Yes, I'm glad I agreed. just don't get sick tomorrow, okay?" I said, looking back at him and giving his cold cheek a short, small kiss.

[nijigasakilove]

Based on the cliffhanger the last episode ended on, I didn’t expect us to open with a “Fujoshi-kai/girls talk” sleepover, but I’m glad we did because I loved it!

Hazuki’s ability letting Kaoruko join via Meiji era FaceTime was so cool lol. Glad to see she’s doing well in the old capital. She’s definitely gonna end up with Godo now isn’t she?! Felt pretty sad to see how regrettable Hazuki is about she and her ex husband’s divorce. Sometimes you can get too stuck in your own ways and don’t say the things you should and she really wants to prevent that for Miyo and Kaoruko. Great big sister!

This is like the most human we’ve seen the prince look too. I used to think he was sus, but nah it feels like he’s just a normal person struggling with all the weight placed on him by his father and having to navigate all the political bs and ministers jockeying for power. None of them really respect him you can tell and just wanna get more powerful themselves. It’s dope how they incorporated the real life navy vs army struggle of imperial Japan into the show too. This was a big debate going into both world wars. I’m worried about this Sakura/snow prophecy though..

Arata still seems very conflicted about whether or not he should go thru with whatever it is gifted communion have tasked him with. Hasebe’s bodyguard was clearly with them right? That’s why he said “thanks for your hard work” but what are they planning… 🤔

“I’m no longer the man I used to be. If possible, I even want to fall deeper in love with you” ahhhhhhshdhdhdhdh. Our boy Kiyoka is such a romantic now, miyo couldn’t even face him after that 😂 🥰 I love them so much such a cute end to the episode!! Can’t wait for the next one

[notmorbid]

sarahland.

dialogue prompts from sarahland by sam cohen.

you're so pretty. you don't need to do all that work.

i collect phrases i like, and eventually, they become internal voices.

i thought college would be exactly like summer camp.

i only feel real as a reflection.

you don't seem snobby or stuck up at all.

you look sophisticated. like you know things.

we don't tolerate any shit here.

your sunny disposition is sure to make it rain today.

normally i feel unsafe all the time.

i was hoping it was you.

you are so fucking cute.

i always care too much about what other people think.

you need to have more fun.

you've always been smarter than me.

you can want to bottom and want to end structural inequality.

you'd be a good therapist. i'd go to you.

maybe i should just move in.

i feel uncomfortably alive.

if the exorcism fails, i am prepared for cannibalism.

we should sing tegan and sara.

it's going well, but for all the wrong reasons.

salinger's a misogynist asshole.

if you have any questions, i'm happy to answer them.

i'm afraid of you becoming someone who doesn't need me anymore.

there are so many different reasons someone might want to eat someone else.

you are actually incapable of giving a person space.

this is not where you're supposed to be.

is the room breathing?

i feel like each day has too many hours.

i've never had my own ____ before.

i wish we had a baby.

plans are not ours to make.

i hope you won't be angry.

where will you go?

it's easier than i thought it would be.

lesbians aren't supposed to be tragic anymore.

i think we're basically the same person.

'labia majora' sounds like a constellation, but it's not.

i stopped feeling attacked by rejection long ago.

can i have a turn?

you're smart. i need to talk to someone smart.

don't think i'm doing it for you.

hippies are gross. they're like the straightest of all straight people.

bitches can't be hungry.

you're not always willing to acknowledge what your heart can see.

i'm not great at making rules for myself.

i know you're just being nice.

no one tells the plants they have to be one thing or another.

don't fall asleep. listen.

i love this look on you.

you always shut up.

you'll visit me?

i'm not scared of the world. i love the world.

it's okay not to tell everybody everything.

why are you here by yourself so much?

little boys are allowed to be obsessed with little girls, and little girls are allowed to be obsessed with horses.

let's do a spell.

i feel far in the future. or the past.

[marswasnothere]

Technically this is fairy anon's ask but I'm going to cut it up and compile it into one slightly more readable post (readable to me at least) ↓ long post!

Age Swap Maxiel AU Canon! - the freak4freak court's universe

Yup! I was originally debating between current 2024-25 timeline, with an aged down Daniel and a regular Max, or having Max in Sebastian Vettel's place, with a regular(ish, slightly aged down) Daniel and Older Max

The way it was meant to happen 😔 Younger Daniel does replace Checo in the age swap au, the new talent replaced the by-gone driver. Similar situation to our world where his performance clause and points expectation is not met.

Hell team Vcarb for early 2024, sorry little guy. Lets just say younger Daniel replicated his Miami quali results every single race in early 2024. He'd drag Pierre Hamelin over to Red Bull as his race engineer.

Baby badger gets an f1 seat for his (late) 19th birthday canon. Going by the 2024 calendar, younger Daniel has a free practice session in Silverstone (2023 parallels) and far outperforms Checo, and gets his seat before the following race in Hungary. Pretty much exactly half the year in Red Bull, plus he got to have a home race/s in Melbourne and Imola while in vcarb.

Older Max wasn't socialised the same way as regular Max, leading to that ruthless competetivness, obsession with success, and lack of proper outlets for excitement or rage.

Younger Daniel lacks the experience that regular Daniel has to get Older Max out of his shell and let himself be silly, so he is his usual excitable self, but is cautious around Max (to start with) as he doesn't want to annoy/piss off his teammate.

Daniel deeefinitely benefits from modern technology. He doesn't get quite as homesick and sad he can't get immediate love and help from his mum and dad, but you're bang on right about the physical connection. Younger Daniel still needs that. Even if he can spend hours on facetime while he talks with his parents and Michelle, his need to be in face to face conversations, to be in the same room as someone, to be able to bump shoulders and give a quick side hug is too strong to be satiated by calls alone. Max fulfills that.

He's soooo starstruck. He's been watching F1 for so long, but actually noticed Max when he first won in Barcelona 2016 (at like 10 years old omg). He watched Max as a fan and in karting, then dropped off the fan-ness of it when his dreams of getting to F1 became realer and realer by the day. Sometime in F3, Daniel got this au's F3 championship of coooourse, Max acknowledges him, send shim a video of congratulations. Maybe when he's in F2, they're doing a photoshoot of every driver under the red bull formula family (like that one recent photoshoot, l*am warning) and he gets to meet Max in person, in a non-race situation.

Max is very happy to have a new, better teammate under his wing, someone who brings life to the red bull garage rather than an increasingly depressing atmosphere from his previous teammate getting dnfs and out-of-points results. Max does think this Daniel is adorable, making jokes, seeing if those jokes annoy Max, and when Max laughs, says he likes Daniel's jokes, Daniel lets that fear of annoying his new teammate go.

Yesyesyesyesyes canon canon. I also don't know if a driver's old number is reserved while they take number 1. maybe they have a conversation about it, strictly professional and considering the rules of the sport, but there's such an intimate undertone of Daniel taking Max's number, and when Max eventually can't use number 1 anymore, he takes Daniel's original 33. Reverting back to our world numbers omg.

Yup canon crushing on Max without knowing it was a crush. The drivers around Max's age, not the younguns, talk to him about the obvious fact they're about to hook up, just like he did with Seb "back in those days" (something something drivers communal inside joke of a sex postion called the golden boy bulling. or something)

Every ask answer has been on a vague timeline, but I'm going to decide (along with answering your other questions about the tension points below) that the tipping point is a combination of the advice call/pillow humping and a big big crash. Daniel calls Max before the Dutch GP, asking for advice, but also just wanting to hear his voice telling him how much of a good boydriver he is. Because it's in the european stretch, they'd be in motorhomes instead of a hotel, with Daniel getting to lavish in a fancy new thing he hasn't been in before, and enjoying the feel of the pillows quite a lot. Max, on the other side of the phone, recognises Daniel going quiet and the distinct shuffling, and at that point he wants to grab Daniel and hold him close and make him come. He approaches Daniel's motorhome after Daniel hangs up the call, and the interaction goes a bit more awkward than written, than how he wants it to be, and Max turns from his door feeling unresolved.

Daniel is a bit distant on race day, feeling like Max is going to interrogate him about his inappropriate actions, until Fernando pulls him aside and says "so has Max given you the overunder-porpoising-catalunya-champagne-spray-handy job yet?" and Daniel realises, oh! apparently i CAN be sexual with him!

They get closer over the following week, after Max's win at his home race, and Daniel getting a whole lot of attention on him for Monza. There's a lot of attention of a lot of drivers during Monza, but he's included in that list, lil italian badger.

That's when the big crash happens.

The second option for the crash. It's big, dramatic, the car flips once, twice, lands right side up thankfully. One car caused it, Daniel got hit hard, a third car got caught in it and retires from the race during the red flag. Whatever Max's place is during the race, he pulls up and parks his car in the gravel right when it's confirmed that Daniel crashed, but not yet that he's okay. He jumps out, runs towards the wrecked car, getting there before the stewards and medical car, helping a shaken up Daniel with removing his steering wheel and getting out of the car. He's pushed aside by the stewards, yelled at about violations, but he sees Daniel getting strapped in to the extrication board and taken into the track ambulance, throwing up a thumbs up to a cheering crowd, and that's all he needs.

The og! The very first idea of the age swap au, explained in here. I don't want to clog anyone's feeds with an idea they're squicked by so I'll talk about it on request. By all means, this will be a seperate au to this current age swap maxiel au.

I think Pyry could be younger Daniel's trainer. Being honest I totally forgot about him until I rewatched that one vlog where Daniel translates Max, Pyry, and Yuki's messages in their own langauges (calls himself a labrador using Pyrys words. PLEASE.) After one singular training session together, to see if Max and Daniel will somehow be more productive together, if the competitiveness will lead them to breaking personal records, Pyry and Rupert decide to never let them train together, because it lead to the sparring on the floor and both getting boners about it.

Yes. All of this, all of what's been written, and everytime he smiles he's got braces. Remember.

Max's pubes stuck in his braces while he's giving an interview, realising when he's walking up to the mic by mouth feel, and trying to talk with his lips over his teeth the entire time. It looks and sounds soooo weird.

Canon yes. Max refuses to leave Daniel's side, even when some other drivers come to visit, like the drivers who caused/got caught in the crash to apologise, Max is there, pretending he's not listening, but studying Daniel's face to see if he forgives them. If Daniel is nice to them, then Max is nice to them. Somewhat. No punches thrown, but a poignant comment during a press conference is given for sure.

In an ideal world, the ring gets put on after Max retires, Daniel gets a championship, they become dads, and Max gets to take his adopted chubby toddlers to the races to watch their other dad go zoom zoom in a big car. I feel like that's the ideal ending to any maxiel au lolol.

Yup yes. Link to ask and response.

Thematic earrings for each race Daniel.

[theolderguards]

NICHOLAS GALITZINE & TAYLOR ZAKHAR PEREZ |

[khaoala]

❝Aren't you going to say it back?❞

FIRST KANAPHAN as AKK PIPITPHATTANA episode 6 of OUR SKYY 2

[sakuraluck]

when i said i wanted to understand whatever’s going on in ivan’s head, i didn’t mean like this 😭😭

[supernotnatural2005]

I’m hooked already!! 🫢

From the prologue to the first chapter, i’m so intrigued and excited to see this story unfold 😱

I love the set up of the party and this line in particular really sets the scene..

From the entrance was the kitchen and living space, where your eyes found Cas', thankfully. He was listening to a couple of other guys fraternize, or chuckle that frat-guy-chuckle, or just exuberate that frat energy, as they continue to frat.

😂

If you have to guess, he is most likely your age or slightly older. He carries a natural confidence, maybe too confident. Maybe slightly cocky, but it works for him. He can get away with it. His dirty blond hair frames the top half of his face. Very Prince Charming. 

Before his name is even mentioned I just knew it was our Dean'o, I love your description of him, I can just see college!era Dean so vividly.

What I'm getting, and I mean I know it's CJ, but it's Dean's face so I don't care! Look at him!! 😍

--I guess... I want to be that. I want to connect with students the way he did with me, otherwise, I'd probably be a dropout by now."

Aw this whole reason on why she wants to be a teacher is so wholesome! 💕

He huffs again, shaking his head, “It’s more of an obligation. He…” Dean bites his cheek for a moment, wondering if he’s sharing too much but opts to continue anyway, he found it easy to share with you, “He gave it up for me. And my brother. And, I want to do this for him. I owe it to him.”

And Dean's as well, I almost feel sorry for him, the fact he's doing it more so out of obligation rather than passion, but that's just Dean through and through, putting others before himself, and then the unanswered question about his mom... Now I have a feeling as to what's happened there but I have an inclining there is more to it...

Dean's eyebrows lower, his pretty eyes concentrated, "Jo Harvelle?" You nod once, "Yeah, you know her?" He pauses, rubbing his jawline, before conceding with a flustered grin, "Yeah, I've met her a few times." It takes you a moment to let that sink in, by what he meant by that. Oh.

It takes you a moment, as you halt in your footsteps, and your stomach does a flip. It was one of Nick's friends- Chuck. Chuck was a solid piece of shit.

Okay so already don't like this guy! ^^ 😡

"Was merely wondering. I know it's been a while since Lisa, but-" "Woah, dude- let's not." Dean holds his palm up, "This is a party, alright? We can talk women, but just... not past women."

Ohh?... And now there's some Lisa drama thrown into the mix! I'm intrigued to see all this play out!

"I'd be careful if I were you. You remember what I did to your friend." Cas threatens, glaring intensely. He knows he can't hold him here, but he can at least attempt to put the fear of God in him.

I love how protective Cas is of her! He's such a sweet friend. 😫 I'm fearful as to why he's had to be so protective but I guess that's for me to find out 🫣

Dean turns pink slightly, clearing his throat, “Well- I mean, ‘cute’ in like, a ‘college-girl’ kinda way. Like, a normal…way. Y’know, cute for a future-teacher-kinda-way…” “I see.” Cas tries to contain his snigger. A break of quiet between the boys breeds a bit of awkwardness before Dean pipes up “And you guys aren’t…benefiting or anything?”

Then to lighten things up, Dean thinks she's cute!

Is he smitten already!? Is it bad I'm already routing for them!? So many questions!!!!

I'm loving this story so far and I can't wait to read the next chapters! 🥰💙 Can I be tagged in future chapters?

Rearview - Chapter 1 - Fragments

Summary: You accept Cas' offer to stop by the party for a few, and you and his friend hit it off more than you expected to. Although, Cinderella has to leave abruptly, after someone wicked notice's your presence.

Pairings: Dean x Reader, Cas x Reader!Platonic, DeanxJo!FWB

Characters: Dean, Cas, Charlie, Jo, others

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: drugs/alcohol, cursing, anthropology hate-joke directed at cas (i dont hate anthropologists or people majoring in it I SWEAR), frat guy mention, probable inaccurate college major descriptions, cas slander (all jokes), jo the ho,

Author's Note: this is my first time ever writing a LONG ass series like this, so you can be brutal, i'll only cry

Song: OMG (feat. will.i.am) by USHER, will.i.am, Feel So Close by Calvin Harris, The Weekend by Michael Gray, any 2000's-2010's radio hits work

Series Masterlist - Chapter 2

You didn’t even need to know the apartment number, all five of your senses are activated when you hit the floor it’s on. You wonder how the neighbors allow it, or if they are at the party as well. Finding the source of the overstimulation, you twist the knob and step into the room with caution. You almost have to squint through the haze of tacky multi-colored lights bouncing from one corner to the next, and the slight fog of something you were sure was not just tobacco. 

Great, my hair will smell for a week after tonight.

You’re no stranger to marijuana or even a couple of pills, but the fun died when it was a catalyst for this past summer's events- part of the reason you moved in with Jo and Charlie. Addiction wasn't a problem for you, though. The fear keeps any desire at bay. You've made a silent vow to never do any of that again. But for now, drinking is on the table. Funny- because that's often where you end up while having a few.

Basic radio-play from the 2000s blasted through synchronized speakers in each room, bass overpowering most of the lyrics and other elements. You take a surprised notice at just how many people are able to squeeze into this apartment space. Granted, it's bigger and has a slightly more open layout than the one you're sharing with the girls now, but even so, you're sure there are over fifty people here. You respectfully squeeze by some of the groups lingering by the front rooms, apologizing if heads are turned to you trying to maneuver around them. From the entrance was the kitchen and living space, where your eyes found Cas', thankfully. He was listening to a couple of other guys fraternize, or chuckle that frat-guy-chuckle, or just exuberate that frat energy, as they continue to frat.

 Okay, I need to relax- I can't be tired of everyone yet.

Cas' absent-minded nodding towards the guys transforms into a pleased smile as he meets your gaze. He stands up a bit straighter, beckoning you over with the flex of his fingers. A mix of a grin and smirk rests on your face, at Cas' welcoming reaction. He steps aside from the disfigured circle to give you a quick hug, saying your name, "I didn't think you were coming."

You shrug, as he lets go of you, both of you still grinning a bit, "I don't like to be predictable."

Cas scoffs with platonic affection- you’re glad to see him let loose some. He had been overly concerned with you since helping you move out. It only tacked onto your list of things to feel guilty about; abruptly moving into your friends' apartment, the emotional tolls of friends after the events of this summer. This guilt shit is starting to be a buzzkill. You push it to the back of your mind and try to keep the small smile plastered as Cas turns his body to one of the members of the outer social circle. Cas waves his hand, getting his friend's attention. You inwardly raise an eyebrow, trying to look at this guy's features with this awkward lighting in the kitchen, as he nods his head once to Cas in acknowledgment. He steps over to us with a red solo cup in hand, eyebrows raised, as he claps Cas on the back lightly. "What's up?"

Oh, interesting.

If you have to guess, he is most likely your age or slightly older. He carries a natural confidence, maybe too confident. Maybe slightly cocky, but it works for him. He can get away with it. His dirty blond hair frames the top half of his face. Very Prince Charming. 

Cas points to you, as he speaks to his buddy, "This is," he says your name, "You remember that I said I was inviting her?"

His green eyes are captivating and full of life as he directs his gaze to you. His face brightened at your mention, which felt like a crime the way it flustered you. His lightly freckled face and symmetrical features almost distract you from his voice laced with charm. You know he is talking to you but it just goes in one ear and out the other as you find your way to the present again. "Dean-" He extends a hand which you gladly take and match his grip. At least I didn’t miss the important part.

"Nice to meet you, Dean." You smile, and for once it seems to come naturally. "I take it you go to school here, too?"

"I do, yeah," He dips his head. "I'll be graduating this year."

"That's great! What's your major?"

"Automotive Engineering."

Dean replies with a precise inflection, almost like he regrets it. 

You nod, slightly impressed, "Oh wow, so like mechanics and such?"

Dean raises his lips into a wider smile, expecting to have to explain, "Short answer, yes, and long answer is that there's a focus on fixing and improving cars, but there's design work, as well. It's a lot of electrical and mechanical work tossed into one. Lots of computer work."

You dare take in every word he says like it is holy, because it sure sounds it coming from that mouth.

Woah, chill.

"Well, at least it's not Anthropology."

Maybe if you poke fun at Cas, he won't hear your thoughts. Dean gives a quick huff of laughter, eyes widening as he's taken aback by surprise at your immediate play toward Cas. He looks to Cas, who is blinking for a comical beat, and then turns his head to you with a tight-lipped smile. "I don't understand your gripe with my major."

"Explain your major to me." You prompt knowingly.

Cas huffs, knowing where this is headed but elaborates anyway, "Anthropology has to deal with observing humanity and trying to understand humans from a sociocultural standpoint."

I look to Dean with conviction, "He wants to professionally people-watch."

Dean turns the corner of his lips down in thought, leaning to Cas, "She's gotta bit of a point there, bud."

Cas incredulously darts his eyes between you and Dean, mouth partially agape as he searches for a defense that they can't use against him. He comes up empty before swiveling his body towards you, "You don't have a drink yet?" Then to Dean, "She doesn't have a drink yet," He backs away from them, slowly ducking from the conversation, "I'll go get you a drink."

You smirk, eyes moving to the floor, burning a hole in it because if you look at Dean you think you might embarrass yourself. Alas, you lift your head anyway, conversation bouncing right back in its place as Dean points his solo cup to you, "You didn't say what your major was."

"You didn't ask." You cock your head slightly, in playful accusation.

He purses his lips playfully, licking them before he drawls, "What's your major, sweetheart."

You shudder internally, desperately remaining collected. "Education with a focus on English. I'm working on becoming a high school teacher."

He hesitates, running his teeth over his lips- I should probably stop looking at his lips. "Didn't think I'd see a teacher at a party."

You narrow your eyes with fake offense, "What's that supposed to mean?"

The same stupid smile he won't wipe off seems to only get brighter the more you talk to him, he shakes his head, "I mean, a future teacher in an apartment full of alcohol and kids doing God-knows-what. Seems a little..."

"Oxymoronic?" You finish for him.

Dean searches your face, and you swear you can see the gears turning in his head at the word. "I think so."

You actually let out a laugh at that, not faking anything, it just springs out from your stomach.

"So. Why do you want to teach a bunch of hormonal teens?" Dean queried, intrigued.

"The salary, obviously." You deadpan.

Dean hums, leaning back on his feet, "Right. Like how I chose automotive engineering for the easy classes."

"Not because you would get a bunch of girls?"

His smile widens, almost upset that he didn’t come up with that first, "I like the way you think."

You flash your eyes up with a devilish innocence, a smirk unraveling on your face.

He shakes his head, his grin softening into something deeper, "No, really. What makes you wanna be a teacher?"

You let the silence stretch for a beat, gathering your thoughts like fragile threads, piecing them together.

"Believe it or not, I hated school. Always did. I was a good student...well-behaved, for the most part. But, I did the absolute bare minimum. I just was never engaged in anything, and I was just bored out of my skull. My parents would tell me that everyone hates it, and to get used to it, but...I was so miserable. In high school, my parents divorced and so, I was just utterly checked out. I stopped trying, and none of my teachers did all that much."

You pause, a soft grin opening on your face, "Except my sophomore year English teacher. One day, after class, he asked me to stay behind. And, of course, I was ready for the same, droning speech that I had heard about fifteen other times from every other teacher about missing assignments or failing grades, but instead... he asked about what music I listened to, what movies I watched, and what I did outside of school. And, God, we were talking for like an hour after class ended, and... I don't know. I just felt like he really listened. The next class, he started connecting the books we read to the things we'd talked about. If we were studying a novel, he’d bring up a character or a theme he knew I’d relate to. If there was an essay, he’d tell me to write about something I was passionate about. He didn't put these restraints on learning, and he taught us, not what he had to learn but what we wanted to. It made the whole damn class realize that we loved to learn...we just didn't like school. I guess... I want to be that. I want to connect with students the way he did with me, otherwise, I'd probably be a dropout by now."

Dean's gaze flickered with a sense of awe, and you just realized how long you must've rambled for.

Your brows draw together with self-consciousness. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, no..." Dean softly interrupted, "People don't always choose the route they're passionate about. It's nice to see a change in pace, y'know?"

You cock your head, an innocent deduction vocalizing itself before you have the chance to filter it, “You’re not passionate about your major.”

He flashes his eyebrows up, his mouth opening, but no sound comes out. He lets out a huff of air that forms a smirk, “I am. I like my major, but, uh, sometimes I feel like I have other callings. I just grew up around cars, so I figured I wouldn’t be wasting my time.” He shrugs in resignation.

“Why not pursue your other callings?”

“My dad owns a mechanics shop, well… the building anyway. When I was four, uh- my dad had to take care of me and my little brother, so we shut down. He wants me to get it back up and running again. He's basically guaranteeing that he's giving it to me after I graduate.”

“But you don’t necessarily want it?” You coax out of him, tilting your head empathically.

He huffs again, shaking his head, “It’s more of an obligation. He…” Dean bites his cheek for a moment, wondering if he’s sharing too much but opts to continue anyway, he found it easy to share with you, “He gave it up for me. And my brother. And, I want to do this for him. I owe it to him.”

You nod, a brief, almost imperceptible nod, as you drown in his gaze and his genuine talk. For once, it wasn’t just something shallow, but it certainly makes you wonder about his family life. 

“And your mom? What does she do for work?” You query.

Dean swallows and licks his lips. Time heals all wounds apparently, but still, it’s not an easy thing to talk about, nonetheless know what kind of reaction to expect every time. 

Cas comes back- thank whoever- with three solo cups, about halfway full, with what looks like punch, which you assume is spiked. Dean tosses his old cup away, and thanks Cas as he reaches for the new one. Cas reads you as he passes you your own.

“D’you get lost over there, Cas?” You play at him, and he barely even looks at you as he brings the cup in your hands to your mouth and essentially forces you to take a sip or two. It makes you smile a bit, and you can see Cas trying to fight his own mouth from doing the same.

"So how do you guys know each other?" You beg the question, taking a sip of the punch with your own free will this time.

Cas lets out a light chuckle, "Freshman year, I took my Continental to Singer's Auto-"

You gasp adoringly, "Oh, Betty..."

"Betty?" Dean practically grimaces.

"Cas' car." You answer lovingly.

Dean snickers at Cas, "You named your car Betty?"

Cas glowers defensively, "I didn't, she did."

"You name your cars too?" Dean's face lights up to you.

"I do." 

Cas clears his throat, continuing, "I took my Continental-"

"Betty," Dean mockingly coos, tilting his head to the side the same way you did.

Unimpressed, Cas glares at Dean, "...to Singer's Auto while Dean was under an apprenticeship. The following week, he had been a customer at Silver & Flames, and I served him, which I thought was a humorous coincidence. Then we were in the same aisle at the library somehow two days after. I figured he was obsessed with me after our first interaction, so I introduced myself." Cas is evidently proud of that little spin at the end.

Dean sarcastically frowns, "You left out the part where you asked me to dinner."

Cas sighs with faux anger, "Beers and Doritos at my dorm after a football game is not a dinner."

Dean turns his head to you, winking, "He was totally trying to take advantage of me."

You giggle, enjoying their banter.

Out of nowhere, your name is squealed from somewhere nearby, and before you can gauge where it came from, it comes close to knocking you to the ground as it envelopes you in a hug from behind. "You came!"

"Hey, Charlie-" You grunt, concern and amusement mixing in your compromised vocal cords at her squeezing. "Having a good time?"

She's still attached to you, as she bubbles, "Yes! My D&D group finally found a time to meet up in person this time because this year a lot of our classes are actually pretty synched up on the times- Woohoo! And, with our new campaign, we're testing out a new theme which is gonna be sooo exciting- oh, and these drinks? Totally reminds me of the saloon-type things that we role-play with too, especially for my character that I made-"

You interrupt her, "What did you have to drink, babe?"

Charlie lets go, holding onto your shoulder still, evidently buzzing, "Like two or three somethings- I don't know but th'punch is great!"

Your eyes widen as you look from your punch cup to Dean, and you quickly dump the rest of it into the sink that's about two feet to your right. And Dean's standing there, desperately trying to wipe his concealed laugh off with his hand as he holds it to his mouth, turning his head slightly so he doesn't falter.

Cas just puzzles at all of the new lingo from Charlie while watching the interaction from the outside, but he isn't safe for very long. "Charlie, you remember Cas, right?" You point to him.

Charlie drunkenly squints her eyes a bit, and exaggeratingly gasps, "Oh yeah, Casss!" She moves over a bit to attack him with a hug.

His posture sways, as he takes a step back to balance himself, taken aback by her physical affection, but nonetheless, he awkwardly pats her back. She was off him as fast as she jumped him.

"I r'member you from this summer. It was so cool when you were all Terminator when Nick came banging on her door," Charlie points to you, "and you jus' stood there like a brick wall with the meanest little Cas face-"

You freeze, eyes blown wide and inhaling sharply at the unexpected reference to Nick, pulling Charlie back gently so she wouldn't fall, failing to ignore Dean's slightly furrowed brows at the story, "Woah- ha, Charlie, I think they're playing Kingdom Hearts in the living room!" You divert her attention, pointing elsewhere.

Charlie's face lights up at the mention, "They're playing Kingdom Hearts? Oh my god- I gotta go!" She cheers, and practically stumbles away to go towards the living room.

You glance at Cas, who glances at you, unsure of what to say at Charlie's uncensored blabber. Luckily, Dean speaks up first, mostly unaware, "She seems fun."

You let out a bit of an embarrassed chuckle, "God love her, she's my best friend."

Cas searches the room for her, piping up, "I'm going to make sure she stays away from the punch."

Dean fixes his gaze on you, "She an avid partier?"

"No. Not at all- I think she's just...indulging." You reason.

"And you?"

"And I, what?"

He flashes his teeth, "Are you an avid partier? Or, just indulging."

You take a breath, leaning your arm against your body, your empty cup sits at your lower thigh, as you find the right words, "I'm not here to get crazy. Cas, Charlie, and my other roommate Jo...they were begging me to not recluse this year."

Dean's eyebrows lower, his pretty eyes concentrated, "Jo Harvelle?"

You nod once, "Yeah, you know her?"

He pauses, rubbing his jawline, before conceding with a flustered grin, "Yeah, I've met her a few times."

It takes you a moment to let that sink in, by what he meant by that.

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck.

Of course. Of course, they knew each other. Who did Jo not "know" by now.

It doesn't matter, why would it? You just met him, and you aren't looking for anything. Right?

Right.

Except it only matters a little, because you just gave him half of your life story and you kind of want to give him the rest of it.

You do your best to conceal the slight bitterness at the idea, unsure of what to say. "Oh, okay."

He smirks, unable to read you, "What?"

You lift your shoulders slightly, "Nothing, I've just never seen you walk of shame out of our apartment." You snort, unable to help yourself. But, it is true. You don't recall ever seeing him, and you would frequently hang out at Jo and Charlie's place before you moved in. You would remember a face like that.

He isn't fazed by the hostility of the comment, just a bit curious, "And...you've seen a lot of guys in there come and go?"

Well, shit. You didn't want to gossip. You bring a hand to your neck, guiltily leaving him unanswered, which was an answer in itself. You blow out an exhale, staying neutral, "It's not my business. I just live there."

"Right, right." He understands what it means.

The beat of awkward silence was somehow louder than the blaring music still playing. You dip your head for a moment, glancing around the room before gesturing to the living room. "I'm gonna check on the girls real quick, make sure Charlie isn't flat on her face or anything."

Dean looks like he doesn't know how to recover either, "Yeah, sure- uh, I'll be here."

You excuse yourself, and peer around the visible corners of the joint, scouting for the girls. A couple steps further in you see Charlie having the time of her life, controller in hand with a swarm of people cheering her on at Mario Kart. You smile to yourself, and search the room for Jo, ambling towards a couple of smaller groups of people, to find that she's in the corner, seductively leaning her back against a door frame as she talks to two guys who seem very interested in whatever she has to say. They respond eagerly it seems, and she bats her eyes as she dunks her cherry into her coke and wraps her lips around it.

She's just fine.

Walking back to the kitchen area, your eyes fall on someone making direct eye contact with you. It takes you a moment, as you halt in your footsteps, and your stomach does a flip.

It was one of Nick's friends- Chuck.

Chuck was a solid piece of shit. Anytime Nick had his cult over, most of them would pretend you weren't there, but a few, Chuck included, would hit on you even if it was in front of Nick. He would make you deeply uncomfortable, squirming on the couch trying to get away from him as he laughed, or the others did. And Nick never really did much to stop it, or would blame you for it if he did say anything. "Shouldn'ta been wearin' a skirt then."

Chuck leans over to some other guys he was with, keeping his cold eyes locked on you as he grabs their attention.

Your blood runs cold, darting away quickly, you weave through the crowd as your heart starts to pound in your chest. You knew this was a bad idea, you knew you could never really escape this- God, how foolish you were. The front door only seems to get further and further away, as your breathing picks up. Your hand slips on the knob before being able to press down and rush out. All you can do is just start to walk back home. You turn your head behind you, checking for anyone that follows, and you start to tell yourself to relax, as the door remains shut.

You shake in the elevator, wringing your hands as you try to calm yourself. The light flashes red as the door opens as you hover close to the exit, and he's right there.

Nick.

Your hand flies to your chest, snapping your eyelids shut momentarily.

"I'm so sorry, Miss- didn't mean to scare you!" The middle-aged gentleman in a white dress shirt and black slacks apologizes as he takes a cautious step into the elevator.

"Oh, my mistake. You're alright..." You timidly bow your head after blinking Nick away, leaving the elevator with the somewhat confused man, bracing a hand on the door as you attempt to make your way to the street.

The wind nips at your face, not sharp enough to be uncomfortable but enough to ground you. You keep up the fast-paced strides back home, appreciating the closeness in proximity it was from Cas' complex.

THE PARTY

Oblivious, Cas returns out from the restroom at the party still, double-taking at the sudden line that has formed outside of it. He peers around the room, finding Dean. He's wallflowering by the kitchen, swirling his cup before he lifts his head up to see Cas as he walks back over to him, looking around. "Where is she?"

Dean's eyebrows raise, his lips jut out as he glances around, "She said she was checking on the girls."

Cas' face falls slightly, "I didn't see her around."

High-heeled combat boots clunk over to the two, making their heads turn to Jo, a bit of a curious look on her face.

"Hey, Cas. Where's, uh," Jo says your name.

"I have no idea, she said she was looking for you and Charlie." Cas shrugs, still searching for her, even going to lengths to stand on the balls of his feet to look over the crowd.

"Oh, okay." She doesn't give it much attention. "Maybe I'll see you later, Dean?"

Dean tilts his head to Jo, his face subtly pinched, "Uh, yeah... later, I guess."

She tries the "hate to see 'em leave, love to watch ‘em walk away" exit, but Dean's a little less focused on her. He directs himself back to Cas rather easily and watches him pull out his phone. "Did she text you or somethin'?"

Cas sighs worriedly, "No. Not yet, I just texted her." He puts his ringer on and keeps his phone in his front jacket pocket. He narrows his eyes at Dean in a questioning manner, "Are you and Jo..."

He darts his eyes from one side of the room over to Cas, "Are we what?"

Cas pushes, "You know...benefiting from each other?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess," He relents, noncommittally. "Why?"

"Nothing. I just didn't know if you guys were planning to become anything more. She seems to have an interest in you…from that little pass a moment ago." Cas has always seen an extra gleam in Jo's eyes when she was standing next to Dean. She tries harder around him, he noticed. At social functions, she would act as if they were more than just their agreement. She would interlock an arm with him, and force a bit more of a romantic chemistry rather than just the sexual one. To be honest, Dean didn’t even really see much in her, but she was different from his ex. And he was satisfied with that. She made him forget for a while, which was all he really wanted from their situation.

"Nahh," He rasps. "I don't see it going anywhere. It's just a casual thing- and it’s mutual, so."

"Was merely wondering. I know it's been a while since Lisa, but-"

"Woah, dude- let's not." Dean holds his palm up, "This is a party, alright? We can talk women, but just... not past women."

"Right." Cas' lips tighten into a thin line. He unconsciously begins to look around for her again, and his eyes land on Chuck, who is discretely edging his way to the door. Now he understands why you disappeared. Damn it.

"I'll be back." He says to Dean, who has no time to answer as Cas stomps off.

Chuck's hand is on the knob and opens it about three inches before it slams shut in front of him. Cas towers above him, "Hey, man. Where’re you headed?"

Chuck snaps his head to Cas, shrugging with shifty eyes, “I was just heading out, I got somewhere to be, man.”

"Do you." Cas challenges.

"Yeah. I do." He tries again to open the door, but Cas doesn't budge.

"I'd be careful if I were you. You remember what I did to your friend." Cas threatens, glaring intensely. He knows he can't hold him here, but he can at least attempt to put the fear of God in him.

Chuck scoffs, but he doesn't quite come off as the tough shit he thinks he is, "I'm not fuckin' scared of you."

"That's your first mistake. If there's a second, it'll be too late for you." He warns, eyes staring daggers into Chuck's as he slides his hand off the door.

Chuck does his best to remain stoic, as he takes off with haste out of the door. Cas stands idle and pounds the frame faintly with anxious frustration. He whips out his cell, thumbing through his contacts for her. He clicks the call icon for her contact, bringing the phone to his ear. It rings four times before her voice picks up, “Hey-”

Cas says her name with an urgency, “Where are you?”

“Yeah, Cas, I’m sorry. I was just about to call or text, I’m home now. I was just starting to get a bit congested.” She sighs into the phone.

Cas breathes out an exhale of relief, “No, that’s…that’s perfectly fine. You showed up, didn’t you? All I asked for.” 

“Yeah…yeah, I mean, it was fun. Your friend’s nice.” 

“Yes, Dean is good company.” Cas nods into the phone, now reminded that he should go back to find him.

“Well, maybe we can meet up sometime this week after class? I feel bad for taking off early.” She amends.

He sighs, locating Dean by the kitchen still, holding his forearm out in confusion as he watches Cas walk back over to him, “That sounds great. Don’t feel bad, though. I’ll see you next week.”

She says a quick goodbye before Cas hangs up. Dean gives Cas a look, pressing him to explain, “What’s going on?”

“She, uh, had to go take care of something.” Cas frowns a bit.

“Oh, alright.” Dean seems to match Cas’ disappointment, adding. “She’s cute.”

Cas wears an amused grin, “You think she’s cute?”

Dean turns pink slightly, clearing his throat, “Well- I mean, ‘cute’ in like, a ‘college-girl’ kinda way. Like, a normal…way. Y’know, cute for a future-teacher-kinda-way…”

“I see.” Cas tries to contain his snigger.

A break of quiet between the boys breeds a bit of awkwardness before Dean pipes up “And you guys aren’t…benefiting or anything?”

Cas doesn’t hold back that time, a chuckle leaves his throat, “No, we aren’t. There’s no romantic inclination there either.” He thinks to himself for a moment. “I’ve grown rather protective over her, but I don’t view our relationship in that sense.”

Dean listens to Cas and brings the cup of punch to his lips. Mulling over his words, “Yeah, I gotcha.”

“That does entail that she’s single.”

Dean twists his face as he almost coughs the punch up, “Woah, man. I didn’t say anything about…”

Cas tilts his head, “I can tell you’re at least interested.”

Dean exhales, convincing himself that it’s nothing more than interest, “I mean, I hardly know her, Cas…”

“I can still tell when you’re interested in someone.” Cas remarks. 

Dean crosses his arms defensively, scoffing at his friend, “Whatever, man.”

“I am talking women with you, Dean-”

“Yes, you certainly are.” He takes a sip of his drink.

“But I’m not talking…you-know-who. So, I find this acceptable.”

“Is this some kind of social experiment for your major?”

Still ignoring his protests, Cas continues, “And I figure, I know you both rather well and I find that you are fairly compatible. You share some interests, and conversations seem to flow well, and you both have a similar, dry humor. And given two bumpy roads for romantic connections-”

“I take offense to that.”

“I’m sure you both would enjoy each other’s humble company, having some experience in relationships in general. And if nothing becomes of it, and you hate her, then I’ll take an F for my grade.”

Dean snaps an excited finger to Cas, “It is a social experiment!”

Cas gives him a pointed look, “I just want the two of you, as individuals, to forget about the past.”

“I get it, Cas. I do, I really do. But, you don’t throw shattered glass together and hope the cracks are fixed.”

“No. In fact, it’s how you create mosaics.” 

“Mosaics- the hell is that?” Dean blinks.

“A mosaic is made of small, fragmented glass or tile that creates a work of art when placed together."

“So, two broken halves make a whole, right?” Dean mockingly reiterates.

“Precisely.”

“We gotta get you away from Lifetime TV.”

Cas relents, shaking his head, “Just- don’t shut it down so fast. I know her, and… she could use someone like you, Dean. And, you could use someone like her. A lot of people could.”

Dean soaks in Cas’ words instead of joking again. He chews his lip for a moment, opening his mouth partially. Bringing the last of his drink to his mouth, he considers it. He really does.

A/N: Sorry if this is slow and dragged out slightly, im kind of just throwing this out to the wind- please let me know what you think!

[blue-eli]

Ink October day 29.5: Heir (version 2)

One who receives or is expected to receive a heritage, as of ideas, from a predecessor.

A person who succeeds or is in line to succeed to a hereditary rank, title, or office.

[pushing500]

I assume it's not easy coming to terms with the fact that you're not the person you thought you were and are, in fact, only a few hours old and also a clone. Poor Mechi II (Mechii?).

Makya "Mechi" Jones and his newly acquired "twin", Kwahu Jones! They're gonna get along great, and I'm sure nothing bad will happen because of this unexpected duplication. No siree, no issues here in the foreseeable future. Just lovely twin shenanigans. 😅

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[skitskatdacat63]

Prince Jenson of Somerset

+ process & lore

Yayyyyy omg finally have drawn portraits of the four main characters!!!! I'll show the process of Jenson's first and then them all four together. Though it's a shame the Seb/Fernando ones are older, I think it's hopefully obvious how much I've improved since November?

Look at him in all his handsome, princely glory 🥹 It's funny, I'm always happy with the second sketch and initial lineart, and then I start coloring it and I absolutely hate it, and it takes a significant amount of time into the painting for me to like it again. And then I reach a certain point and I'm in love with it again. Ugh though I gotta say, I love drawing the curls, it's just so 18th century, but at the same point, man I always will love my original lineart for the hair the best ah. Also yes I absolutely had to give him a big ass hat with feathers, he really is that kinda guy to me. I originally drew a bicorne and then realized that those don't really exist until basically almost a century later oops, so tricorne it is!!

Okay now omg look at them all together 🥹

Haha wow I have improved a lot! Just like the Seb/Fernando ones, Mark and Jense's were meant to be put together. I think there's a lot of inherent characterization in their poses that highlight the difference between them. Mark is looking up, very wistful, looking up to greater people, greater things. Jenson's head is tilted down, almost looking at the viewer, he is very satisfied with his role and revels in it, he's here to slay!

Okay, yes, lore, characterization, sorry that it is so far down on the post!!

Jense would probably be the fan favorite if this AU was an actual book or show or something. He's the guy you randomly find while browsing Wikipedia and you're like, woah this guy is so cool??? Unlike Sebmarknando, he doesn't really have the same level of angst, he's kinda just chilling. He's a bit harder to write a lore post about, because he's basically that character who is always magically around the corner, ready to witness some crazy thing and just breeze past it.

He is less linked to Seb than people like Mark and Fernando, because he's basically just his personal minister of transportation(read: horse fucker), so he avoids a lot of the relationship complications and drama, but that isn't to say he's completely uninvolved. He really likes Seb, and loves to hang around with him and serve him, but he's not as beholden to him. He's who everyone goes to air their grievances or to get away from the others, and he's very happy with this role. He's generally willing to play any side in an argument, but does tend to have a pretty big soft spot for Seb overall(Seb also gives him cuteness aggression, and he wants to bite him. Especially when Seb puffs himself up and acts super bratty when he gets offended at not being seen as a proper ruler.)

He's royalty from other kingdom, but pledged his loyalty to Seb's kingdom when he was quite young and has served him(his father first) ever since. He started off somewhat low in the military, rose to a pretty high rank, was a renowed war hero, and then ended up retiring pretty early to tend to Seb's horses. That's an oversimplification, but yeah. He liked the military life, was very good at it, but decided he had done enough, and wanted to be involved in more direct service, albeit more laid back. As I mentioned in Mark's post, Mark *really* doesn't understand his choice to do this, because if Mark had been in Jense's position, he can't ever imagine being able to let all that go and living the quiet life.

He is the palace whore, everyone has been with him honestly. It'll be like, some man walks into his bedroom, only to see Jenson in bed with his wife, but instead of being angry, he's like "wow you couldn't even wait for me??" He's just very carefree, and happy to just slut around and tend to Seb's horses.

I think he definitely still advises Seb, and would go to battle if truly need be, but generally seems to be living in a different world than the weird psychosexual homoerotic political drama that the others seem to be living in. But as I said, it's not like he doesn't contribute to it! He loves to goad Fernando, and constantly plays devil's advocate in "debates" between Fernando and Seb. He's also obviously the one that keep "accidentally" locking them in rooms and forgetting where the key is.

Sorry if this isn't very explanatory, I hope it gives a general idea to the type of character he is???? As always, let me know if you have any questions! I kinda struggled on what to write here because I'm finishing this at almost 8 am 😭 so I'm not sure if it's great or not. But basically you need to know: horse fucker who is generally breezy and carefree but also can be a bit of a menace to society every once in a while.

[lesbicosmos]

me and one of my best friends only have one subject together now, so we tend to spend the time we're not working talking about our current favourite tv shows, it's kinda our thing

it's really funny right now though because she's yapping about the new season two of her show (rings of power) while im yapping about the unjust cancellation of season two of mine (dead boy detectives)

[moiraimyths]

Before we call anon rude because let’s see it from their perspective, imagine getting an entire feast to eat. That can be pretty hard to start with so much that’s going on, but if they start with one thing they know they’ll like (aka one character they like) that can be the start for them leaping to other characters to finish the story and the bigger story. I struggle the same way to start book series if I don’t have at least one character that drives me to read it, it’s all about what can be the hook to push them through. Sounds like the anon is neurodivergent (just a guess) so they might genuinely not see it as rude and see it as a solution to even play the game to start with.

Btw absolutely adore the game, the complex and rich characters making them all so unique is amazing. The art is so pleasing to the eyes I love it!! I’m waiting for it all to get out at once so I don’t get too impatient. Shae however interests me the most, which routes will have the most lore for them? Will there be routes that give more lore in general based on decisions you make or do they all share the same amount? (I mean general lore not just Shae lore)

Apologies; we are not trying to accuse any asker of being rude! We are simply explaining our perspective as the developers / are trying to broadly encourage folks to dip their toes into other areas of the story outside of the main route(s) they're interested in, especially considering some routes will be made available sooner than others, and these other routes will likely contain additional scenes/lore of everyone's fave(s) regardless! We want to give each main cast member an equal amount of love (and lore) regardless of their overall popularity, so our goal is not to tut-tut anyone for having strong preferences for one character over the others, but rather to explain that you may be surprised by how much *more* you learn about your preferred characters in the other routes. That's all!

For Shae... Well, they were a foot soldier for one of the worst periods of the War. Lore wise, any other story that touches on the War will likely have content relevant to them and their experiences. ^^