#so say that’s what 3 or 4 years before??

[potatoplace]

I Don't Feel Alive

The Afterthought: Chapter 4 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

part 3 | part 5 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

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

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

Words: ~9.2k

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

18+ only pls

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Better than seeing the hatred in Nesta's eyes.

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

Except you.

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

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

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

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another long breath, lungs deflating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, your heart wasn't so calm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you want to try it on?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It clung too much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Entirely too scandalous for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat.

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

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

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

*Oh.

Your heart sank.

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

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

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

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

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

So pretty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Oh!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least tea could never not choose you...

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You'd nearly forgotten you had been flying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Definitely a no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you crashed into a wall.

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

You couldn't *believe it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wish you had the strength to jump.

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

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

You still didn't answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

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

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

[onebadassunicorn]

His Blue-Eyed Angel

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: scars, smut - glorious smut!!

word count: 5.1k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Story tags: @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @tiredsleepyhead @celestialgilb @theflowerswillbloom @fuckingsimp4azriel @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @salvatoresister1 @imperfect0angel @stvrdustalexx @anneas11

Image owned by Velocity Visual Media.

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

Chapter 21

Y/n POV

As I closed the door to my room, Azriel stood with his lower back leaning against my dressing table, his muscular arms crossed. 

He was here. 

He was really here. 

My heart pounded at the sight of him, and I swallowed hard, praying he would not see my hands shaking. 

Gods, he was still so sexy. 

Even after six months of being away from him, he still took my breath away. 

Why had nothing changed? 

Since I had been gone for what seemed like an eternity, I had thought my reaction to him might have been milder.  I had spent the last six months convincing myself that he may never want to see me again, that he might simply be a part of my past, never to be a part of my present or future. 

And yet, here he was…back in my life in an instant with that same sense of untamed spirit just seething below the surface.  He had the same hazel eyes that could melt me with just one look and those chiseled cheekbones resembling a God. 

My heart screamed at me to run to him as my fingers itched to touch him…to make sure he was real and not some figment of my imagination. My head, however, told me to stay put and maintain a safe distance.

I slowly crossed the room and stood several feet in front of him, my pulse beating erratically.  He fixed his magnetic eyes on me with a dark stare, sweeping me out of reality and into a wave of emotions I had not felt since the last time I saw him.  His eyes lingered on my curves before he let out a long sigh and finally spoke. “You look amazing, Y/n...”

“Thanks.” I mumbled as I stared down at my feet.  I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes.  I knew if I did, I would get lost in him and to do so again would damn near destroy me. 

I sighed heavily, letting my shoulders drop., before bringing my eyes back to his.  “What did you want to talk about, Az?”

Azriel stood up straight and shoved his hands in his pockets. His eyes, filled with a mixture of guilt and raw emotion, never left mine.

“Us,“ Azriel whispered, his wings tucked tightly behind him, his hands clenched at his sides as if he were bracing himself for what he was about to say. The soft sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing him in a golden glow, but even that light couldn’t soften the tension in his face. I lifted my eyes back to his and he swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on mine.

“I owe you an explanation,” he said, his voice low but steady. “About everything. About Elain. About the way I’ve acted… the way I pushed you away.”

My expression didn’t waver as I tried to hide hurt lingering in my eyes, a wound he had inflicted and hated himself for. He drew in a breath, as if the words he was about to say required all the strength he had.

“Angel,” he began, his voice quiet but steady, “before you walked into my life a year ago, I never… I never believed I was worthy of something like this. Of you. I didn’t think someone like me deserved love, or even a chance at it.” His gaze flickered down for a moment, as if ashamed. “I didn’t do relationships. It wasn’t who I was. I thought it was easier to keep my distance, to let myself be… detached. To keep things simple. Physical. No strings.”

He took a step closer, his shadows stirring faintly around him, mirroring the turmoil he felt. “I had lovers. Many of them, over the years. But that’s all they ever were. I didn’t let them in. I didn’t… feel anything deeper. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I thought falling in love, letting myself be vulnerable—” His voice cracked slightly, and he looked away, his jaw tightening. “I thought it wasn’t meant for someone like me.”

“Elain,” he continued carefully, softly, like it might shatter in the air between us. “She’s… nothing more to me than a friend. She never has been. I thought—at one point—that maybe there was something there, something I could convince myself to feel because it was safe. Easy.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “But that wasn’t real. None of it was. It was an illusion I clung to because it kept me from looking at the truth.”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling a huge lump in my throat.  

“What changed?”

Azriel stepped closer to me and smiled softly.  “You.  You changed everything.”  

His eyes looked down as though was grounding himself for what he said next. “The truth is… I was terrified. Of you. Of how much I wanted you, how deeply you affected me. You came into my life and turned everything I thought I knew upside down. You made me feel things I didn’t think I deserved to feel. And that scared me more than anything.”

His hands clenched at his sides, as if he were holding himself back from reaching for me. “So I pushed you away. I kept my distance. And I used Elain—without realizing it at first—as a shield. But the truth is, Angel, it was never her. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“I never saw this coming, but now that I’ve had it – I never want to let it go.  I want you and only you, Angel.  You’re all I can think about.” 

Azriel’s eyes found mine again, and this time they held a vulnerability that made my chest tighten. “You shattered every wall I built, without even trying,” he said softly. “You made me want something I never thought I could have. You made me believe that I could be more than the shadows I carry. That I could be… enough.”

 He stepped closer still, his voice dropping to a whisper, raw and full of emotion. “I love you, Angel. Not as a friend. Not as anything safe or convenient. I love you in a way that terrifies me, in a way that’s overwhelming and all-consuming and so much bigger than I ever thought love could be. I love you. And I only ever want you.”

His eyes searched my face as if afraid of what he might find there. “I need you to know the truth, because you deserve that. But you also need to know that those pieces of my past—they mean nothing to me now. They’ve never meant anything, not like this. Not like you.” He stepped closer, his voice trembling with sincerity. “You’re my mate, Angel. My only. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if you’ll let me.”

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment, as if he were gathering strength to ask his next question.  He took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. 

“Is there someone else?” His eyes searched mine, his voice barely a whisper.

Azriel let out a shaky breath, his wings trembling slightly behind him as he waited for my response, every ounce of his heart laid bare before me.

I almost choked as the tears began to pool in my eyes before streaming down my cheeks. 

“What?”  

My breath caught in my throat as he closed the distance quickly between us, but he was suddenly so close to me, I couldn’t think straight.  It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and all I wanted was to be in his arms again, his body pressed against mine, kissing me until I couldn’t breathe.  

“I have to know,” He asked hoarsely as his hands cupped both of my cheeks, his thumbs wiping away my tears before his hands dropped back to his sides.

“Is there someone else?” 

At that point, my resolve completely obliterated.

“No, Azriel. There is no one else. I can’t love anyone else…because I’m in love with you.” I whispered as my arms fell to my sides, tears falling down my cheeks. 

Azriel wiped my tears. “Baby…please don’t cry.” he whispered  before closing his eyes, touching his forehead against mine, taking in what I had just confessed. We stood there for a few moments just breathing each other in before I got the courage to speak again.

I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. I didn’t want to believe that Azriel, of all people, would reject me. But the fear, raw and real, continued to claw at my heart, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that, one day, he might look at me—and see nothing more than the ugly scars left behind.

“Did you mean everything you just said?”

Azriel opened his eyes and gazed back at me, his face raw with emotion.

“Every. Fucking. Word.”  

He grabbed my hips and pulled me forcefully to him, slamming his mouth against mine in a bruising kiss.  Our kiss accelerated quickly, our lips slamming into each other for fear of this moment ending. My mouth responded hungrily to his and his kisses became deeper, his tongue seeking entry into my mouth…which I eagerly gave him.  As he wrapped his arms around my waist, I plunged my hands up under his shirt, feeling the muscles in his chest ripple under my hands.  He made a growling noise low in his throat as he pulled his mouth away from mine and began to kiss a trail down my neck.  

“Angel…baby” he murmured as he planted thousands of kisses on my tender skin.  “Fuck, I have missed you so much.”

His lips found mine again, his kisses becoming desperate, as if we needed each other more than air. I wrapped my hands around his neck to pull him tighter, trying to remove any space left between us.  His strong hands slid up under my shirt and caressed my back.  The heat of his palms burned my cool skin, and I arched my back into him, feeling his cock harden against me.  I inhaled sharply and felt Azriel smile against my lips, knowing full well the effect he had on me.  It was all I could do to cling to him to stop myself from completely drowning in him as tiny sparks danced across my skin.  

Desire pooled between my legs, and I moaned into his mouth as he claimed mine again and again, running his tongue along my bottom lip before gently sucking on it.  

“Azriel…” I moaned as his mouth continued to devour mine.  His familiar, masculine scent, cedar, shadows and mist, filled my senses and I began to tremble in his arms.  Not from fear or worry, but anticipation and longing. 

As he continued to kiss me, and the world seemed to fade away. His hands moved to cup my face again with a reverence that made my knees weak, as though I were something precious, something unbreakable. I let myself continue to sink into his kisses, into the warmth of his touch, the overwhelming sense of belonging he gave me.

But then, as his hands gently brushed down my sides, I froze. The memory of my scars flashed in my mind like a cruel reminder. The one on my abdomen, a trauma that I would carry for the rest of my life, I couldn’t bear to show him. I pulled away suddenly, my breath shaky, my arms wrapping protectively around myself as if to shield the parts of me I didn’t want him to see.

Azriel’s brow furrowed, his hazel eyes scanning my face with concern. “Angel? What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, as if afraid to startle me

I shook my head, my chest tightening as I struggled to find the words, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I just… I need you to see all of me,” I said, my voice trembling. “Not just the parts that are easy to love. The parts I’ve tried to hide, even from myself. I’ve spent so long feeling… ashamed of this. Of what it represents. But if I want to be with you—really be with you—I can’t hide anymore.”

Azriel exhaled slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. He cupped my face, his thumbs wiping away from my tears.

“Show me,” he whispered softly.

I stepped back, my hands shaking as they moved to the ties of my dress.

Slowly, I pulled the ties of my dress, my fingers fumbling with the fabric as my heart pounded in my chest. I slid my arms out of the sleeves and let the dress to the floor, revealing the jagged scar that stretched across the lower part of my stomach—a mark left by a battle I had barely survived.

******

Azriel POV

Azriel held his breath as her dress fell to the floor, completely naked and bare to him.

Rage rocketed through him as he took in the scar below her navel, just above her pubic bone. A cruel mark that she would never escape.

A scar made using faebane, ensuring she would never heal and would be marked forever.

A word carved into her skin.

Whore.

The fury inside made him tremble.

A wave of protectiveness, so powerful it nearly took his breath away, consumed him. No one, no one, should have ever done this to her. She was the woman he loved more than anything—more than his own life.

“Fuck, baby…” he choked as he gathered her into his embrace, holding her tight against him as she shook in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, kissing the top of her shoulder.

He pulled back, lifting her chin with his fingers, his thumb brushing over her cheek to steady himself. His hands, usually so controlled, shook as he held her face. His eyes softened for a moment, the love he felt for her shining through, but when his gaze fell again on the scar, his jaw clenched with a force that nearly cracked his teeth. He couldn’t look at it without feeling a surge of anger, a primal need to protect what was his.

Slowly, with a tenderness that contrasted the fury inside him, he sank to his knees before her and lowered his lips to the scar, pressing a kiss there. His lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary, as if he could somehow erase the pain from her body, but the truth was, he knew he couldn’t.

Azriel looked up at her, his gaze holding hers, his hands on her hips and whispered.

“You’re beautiful. Every single part of you.”

He kissed the length of the scar reverently. As he stood back up, his eyes held hers, his breath was ragged, his eyes dark with an intensity.

“The man who did this to you, whoever thought they could break you, you are strong and fierce, my beautiful mate.  I swear, I will never let anyone hurt you again. No one—no one—touches what is mine.”

His words were fierce, raw with emotion, and as he spoke, he kneeled again to kiss the scar, a slow, deliberate press of his lips, as if to mark it as his own, as if to take back the ownership that had been stolen from her.

Azriel pulled away just enough to look up at her face, his voice now softer, but no less intense. “And I will kill anyone who touches you.”

His gaze filled with a tenderness that seemed to be at odds with the intensity of violence in his promise, but she could see the truth in his eyes. The depth of his love, his protection, and his unwavering devotion. He stood and pulled her close. 

“I love you more than anything. And I’ll burn the world down before I let anyone hurt you again.  You are mine.”

She smiled softly, her eyes darting to the floor.

Gods, if she only knew how being away from her for the past six months was slowly killing him every day.  He lifted her chin back up to look him straight in the eyes.  

“Azriel - “ she started but there was nothing left to say except show her.  He silenced her, pulling her into another kiss.  Her lips were so soft and sweet that he began to feel a rush zip throughout his body.  

She slid her arms back around his neck, pulling him closer until he could feel every curve of her petite body up against him and he began to lose himself in her.  She was like a drug to him, and the more he had of her – the more he craved her.  The pull she had over him was overwhelming and in the past, it had scared him.  But after losing her for months, he was no longer scared. He wanted all of her…body, mind and soul. Her sighs and moans spurred his kisses on as her nails dug into his neck as his lips continued to caress hers.  

And the little sounds she made…fuck.  

He had not even touched her pussy yet and the smell of her arousal mixed with his own, the taste of her lips, were driving him crazy.  As her soft hands moved across his chest, her touch set fire to his skin, leaving him with a desire for her to touch every inch of him.  

He stopped long enough to pull his shirt over his head before his lips landed back on hers. He placed little kisses down her jaw to her neck and then licked the little patch of skin underneath her ear.  It was one of her most sensitive spots and as he licked it, she moaned his name.

Gods, how he loved her moans. 

He worked his way back up to her lips, eliciting a whimper from her that sent him right over the edge.  Desire flooded through him, and he slid one hand up her side cupped her breast.  He ran his thumb across her nipple and felt it harden quickly beneath his touch.  She began to tremble as he continued to kiss her and he felt her body press more into his, completely succumbing to him. 

No longer able to control himself, he slid his hand down to the front of her stomach to the apex of her thighs.  Her body’s response to his was intoxicating and his cock began to throb.  

He wanted to be inside of her.  

Now.

“Az-“

“I know, baby…” I whispered back to her, between kisses.  “I’ve got you.”  

An audible exhale escaped her lips as his fingers slid across her clit. He felt her hold on his neck tighten as he continued his caresses, increasing in pressure with each swipe.  He moved his mouth back to her neck and slowly nibbled and sucked on it. As her moans grew louder, his cock strained against his pants, and he ground it against her. 

He moved away from her clit, slid two fingers inside her and her breath caught.

“Gods baby...you’re dripping wet for me.” 

Fuck, her pussy was soaking wet.

He began to slide his fingers in and out of her.

Silky and tight

He moved his mouth back up to her lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth.  

Mine.  

He was never letting her go again and he would fucking kill anyone who ever tried to take her away from him. 

******

Y/n POV

As I rocked my hips in sync with his hand, it was almost more than I could take. 

“Angel…you are so fucking beautiful.”

Azriel began to kiss a trail down my neck to my breasts. He swirled his tongue around one of my nipples before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it with soft, little tugs. He then swirled his tongue around my nipple again, lightly bit it and pressed his soft lips to it, kissing it to soothe the slight sting of his bite. He was slowly driving me crazy, and I felt wetness trickle down the inside of my thighs as he moved from one breast to the other. 

As he kissed a trail back up to my neck, I tightened my arms around his neck and pressed my hips into his as his fingers continued to slide in and out of me. I felt his hard cock against me, and I could no longer stand his pants between us. 

I had to have Azriel now. 

I was tired of waiting. 

“I need you, Az.”

He pulled back slightly and looked at me, his breathing heavy.

“Say it again…”

I stared back into his hazel eyes, his pupils blown. I pulled him closer and whispered against his lips. 

“Make love to me, Azriel.”

He moaned and kissed me again, sliding his hands under me to grip my ass, wrapping my legs around his waist. He picked me up and carried me over to my bed, laying me down carefully. He stood up and unzipped his pants and slid them down his legs, never taking his eyes off me. His cock sprang free, and my eyes drank in every detail of his gorgeous body. The tip of his thick cock was seeping from the head and just knowing I had this effect on him and his body made me even wetter. 

He climbed over me and laid down with his arms on either side of my head. As he kissed me again, one of his hands caressed down my stomach and I arched my back into him to let him know I wanted his hand to continue roaming down my body. As he reached my pussy, he slid his fingers up and down my clit several times before sliding a finger inside of me. He groaned as he continued to kiss me while inserting another finger inside me, eliciting a whimper from me. 

He pumped his fingers in and out of me several times before moving his fingers back up to my clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make me writhe underneath him. He slid his fingers inside me again, arching them up to hit the spot he knew would soon send me over the edge. I arched my hips against his hand, seeking to satisfy the building release inside of me. Azriel groaned and then stilled his fingers inside of me, pulling back to look me in the eyes. 

“I need to taste you, baby.” His said, his voice deep and dark with desire. “Not only am I going to taste your pretty pussy, I’m going to taste every inch of you.”

Mother above, Azriel had a filthy mouth. 

He slowed the pump of his fingers as he kissed his way down my neck, breasts, and stomach. It felt like he was everywhere at once and my senses were overloaded with his scent, his tongue licking my body and his fingers curved up inside of me as they slid in and out so easily. 

I felt my orgasm begin to build as he made his way down my body. When he reached the apex of my thighs, he settled in between them and latched onto my clit, sucking it into his mouth, alternating with licks up and down. 

“Mmmm.  You taste so fucking good, Angel.”

He lapped, licked and sucked on my clit until my legs began to shake. My breathing grew heavy as I was right on the edge of my release. I closed my eyes and arched my back when he suddenly stopped and pulled his mouth away. I gasped from the sudden removal of his mouth, and I pulled up to lean back on my elbows, clearly annoyed. 

“Az!”

Azriel chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Eyes on me, baby. No closing them. I want to watch you fall apart while I am eating this sweet pussy.”

Looking at Azriel as he feasted on me was one of the most raw, intimate things I had ever experienced in my life.  Watching him as he made me come was like baring a part of my soul that would only belong to him and no one else.  

I nodded my head as he began to suck on my clit again, alternating between lapping it with the flat part of his tongue before latching onto it. He pumped his fingers in and out of me faster and his other hand found mine, slowly intertwining our fingers together. It was almost as if he was afraid I’d disappear into thin air. I never knew just how intimate holding someone’s hand could be until now. 

With my free hand, I reached down and ran my hand through his dark wavy hair as he continued, his eyes locked on mine. When he began to moan as if he couldn’t get enough of me, the vibrations sent pulses straight to my clit and I began to shake, my orgasm building at a speeding frenzy. 

He pumped his fingers even faster and whispered.

“Let go, baby.”

Azriel latched onto my clit and sucked hard, ripping my orgasm right from me and sending me over the edge, screaming his name. I kept my eyes on his as long as I could before I became a writhing mess with my head falling back on the bed. He continued to lick me slowly, letting me ride out the pleasure as long as possible before he stopped and slowly kissed his way back up my body. 

******

Azriel POV

The sunlight illuminated the soft curves of her body, and he had never seen anything more fucking sexy than watching her come with his face between her legs. He missed her so much that he wanted to kiss and lick every inch of her body, staking his claim to her and coming inside her sweet pussy, permanently marking her as his.  

As he kissed his way back up her body, his eyes drifted over the cruel scar left behind. He pressed gentle kisses against the scar, against her skin. He let his gaze continue over taut curve of her stomach, the soft swell of her breasts, and her swollen lips from his kisses. He settled between her hips and pulled her hand, still intertwined with his, over her head.  With his free hand, he ran his thumb softly back and forth over her swollen bottom lip. 

“Angel, these past six months have been hell. I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t fucking breathe without you. Everything is going to shit because I’m without you.”

She smiled softly, her eyes filling with tears. One slowly slid out of the corner of her eye, and he wiped it away with his thumb. 

“The way you make me feel safe, loved, and seen – even with all of these scars…I don’t even know what to say.” She whispered as she raised up to kiss him softly, tasting herself on his lips. “I love you, Azriel.”

He brushed the hair back out of her face as his beautiful eyes lovingly gaze back at her. “You just said everything I needed to hear.”

Azriel leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, his tongue swiping across her lower lip as she opened for him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he ground his cock against her core, eliciting a mewl from her. Azriel smiled against her mouth, fully aware of what he was doing as she rocked against him, again desperately seeking that needed friction.

“Az – please,” she panted, her breathing shallow as she writhed underneath him.

He chuckled deeply, as his eyes danced with mischief. “My Angel is so greedy.”

She looked down at his cock, glistening and dripping from the tip and wrapped her hand around him, pumping his shaft with several long strokes. As her hand slid back up to the tip, she rubbed her thumb in a circle over it and slid it back down again.

And that was Azriel’s undoing.

Growling, his restraint snapped as he grabbed her hand away from his cock, intertwined his fingers with hers and pushed both of her hands above her head. He lined up the head of his cock with her entrance and pushed into her in one thrust. Her breath caught, and they both moaned as he seated himself inside her.

Fuck, she was so tight around him.

He stilled as she adjusted to the size of him, kissing and licking her neck.

“Azriel-I need –“

He brought his mouth back to hers and kissed her long and slow. “I know, baby. I know.”

He started thrusting inside her, slowly, almost pulling completely out before he slid back in again. He wanted her to feel every inch of him moving inside her. He moved his hands to her waist and wrapped them around each side, watching the outline of his cock sliding up inside her abdomen.

“Fuck, Angel – look at you.  Taking my cock so well.” He murmured, his hazel eyes darkening as he gazed down at his cock sliding in and out of her.

Her breathing became heavier as her blue eyes darkened, full of love and desire for him.

He could get lost in those eyes for the rest of his life.

He picked up his pace as thrust into her, the head of his cock dragging against the walls of her pussy, as he bent one of her knees so he could thrust deeper inside of her.

He felt her pussy tighten against him and he knew she was close. Her gasps of pleasure were music to his ears, and her body’s responsiveness to him was addicting.

As if she were made just for him.

And at that moment, he decided he could spend the rest of his life between her legs and die a happy man.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of their lovemaking, the creaking of her bed, the rustle of the sheets, and the sounds of wet flesh as his cock thrust into her.

He had dreamt of this moment for so long and it was all he could do to hold on.

“Come for me, Angel. I want to see you come all over my cock.”  He commanded as he stared down into her blue eyes.

That was all it took for her to go over the edge, screaming his name as her head tilted back, writhing underneath him. Her walls fluttered around his length as she rode wave after wave of ecstasy.

Watching her fall apart for him, he followed her over the edge, her name a whisper on his lips as he emptied himself inside of her.

As he pulled out from her and laid on his back, tucking her into his side and grazed his fingers across her lower back, he felt the weight of his devotion, the depth of his passion and the breadth of his love for her. He whispered his love to her, his voice hoarse with emotion, and her response was a soft, sweet whisper that sealed their love.

And in that moment, he knew, that she was his forever.

He was finally home.

[cressidagrey]

The moment I could see it - Part 3

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: 5 Times that Gianpiero Lambiase thinks that Ariel Cane and Max Verstappen are weirdly similar…and 1 time he is just happy that the two of them are no longer pining after each other. 

Warnings: 

GP's POV, mention of cancer, mention of parent's death

Author Notes: I am back to my old tricks...which means I write from the most random of POV's just because. (I once wrote a chapter from a dog's POV so like, GP doesn't even really count.

It was actually quite stupid, GP reflected drily, that in 4 years of knowing both Ariel Cane and Max Verstappen...he had never even thought that one day they would be in the same room at the same time.

Even after Ariel had gotten a job in Red Bull's PR department straight out of uni.

It was just...two very different parts of his life. Colliding. Right in front of him.

And it was pure coincidence in a way...namely a meeting where they wanted an opinion from the Social Media Team...and suddenly, there was Ariel Cane walking into the room, with a smile on her face.

And there was Max Verstappen. Staring at her. Completely stunned. 

GP found himself silently hoping that Max wouldn't start drooling or do something equally embarrassing.

GP couldn't suppress a silent laugh as he witnessed Max's reaction to Ariel's entrance. Max looked positively gobsmacked as he gaped at her. He couldn’t help but watch the whole thing with a lot of amusement as Max stared at Ariel utterly stunned. 

Max, who GP had seen progress from a reckless speed demon to a more mature driver, but now was completely frozen, staring at Ariel as if he had never seen a girl before.

GP wasn't the only one who was amused by his reaction. Granted, Ariel was a very pretty girl, but the way Max was staring made it seem like she was the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on.

He couldn't help but find the whole situation entertaining. Max was usually so confident and laid-back, but now he looked completely out of his depth. 

Meanwhile, Ariel was completely unaware of the effect she was having on him. She was simply smiling warmly at the meeting attendees, not realizing that Max was staring at her like a love sick puppy.

Gianpiero exchanged a glance with a couple of his colleagues, who were also trying to hide their amusement. Clearly, they found the whole situation just as amusing as he did. It was rare for Max to be rendered dumbfounded like this. 

The meeting continued, with Ariel providing some insights for the Social Media Team. However, it was clear that Max struggled to concentrate on anything but her. He shot furtive glances in her direction, trying to be subtle but failing miserably. Luckily for Max, the meeting came to an end not long after, and everyone began to leave the room. GP watched as Max lingered behind, seeming like he wanted to say something to Ariel.

GP stepped in, noticing how Max was still staring at Ariel with a dreamy expression. He couldn't help but rib the young man a bit.

"Don't even think about it, Verstappen," he said dryly, amused by the situation.

Max looked at him, caught in the act of openly ogling Ariel, and his cheeks colored a bright red. 

"I wasn't..." he protested weakly before trailing off. The denial sounded rather half-hearted. 

GP just raised an eyebrow, silently saying 'yeah, sure you weren't.' He knew Max well enough to be able to tell when he was interested in someone, and right now, his interest was painfully evident.

"Actually I was thinking about offering her a job," Max blurted out.

GP could just stare at him.  He definitely hadn't expected Max to say that.

"A job?" he repeated, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "What kind of job are you planning to offer her?"

He watched as Max shifted awkwardly, clearly having blurted out the words without fully thinking it through."Well, I fired Sadie...so I need a new personal assistant."

GP’s eyebrows rose even further as Max explained the situation. He couldn't help but be taken aback by his impulsivity.

"You fired Sadie and now you want to hire Ariel as your new personal assistant? Just like that?" he questioned incredulously.

"She's good at her job!" Max defended himself. "Better that...literally all the rest of the PR team I need to deal with on a daily basis."

GP had to acknowledge that Max had a point. The PR team could be...eccenctric, to say the least. And it was true that Ariel was good at her job.

"Alright, I'll give you that," he admitted. "Ariel is talented. But if you think that she is simply going to do what you tell her to do…you are wrong. She’ll eat you alive,” he said with some amusement. “Her brother is our Head of electrical engineering. Have you met him yet? Tall, Red head? Only manages to come to work with the same pair of shoes on both feet around 80% of time and is  well known for working 48 hour stretches?”

"If they can't get him to stop, they call his little sister...and you don't want to be on her bad side when that happens." 

Max shifted uncomfortably, clearly realising the implications of what Gianpiero was saying. Ariel Cane was not someone to be trifled with. 

GP took a moment to reflect on the situation. Max, with his habit of getting into trouble, wanted to hire a young woman who was known for her no-bullshit, no-nonsense attitude...

Yeah, this was shaping up to be a disaster in the making. And GP was going to have a front row seat

But he couldn't help feeling a slight sense of schadenfreude. Sitting back and watching this unfold was going to be entertaining, in a chaotic and amusing kind of way. 

He didn't actually think, Max was going to go through with it.

Until Ariel showed up in his office days later.

"Tell me about Max Verstappen," she said calmly as she sat down in front of his desk. "What kind of boss is he?"

His eyebrows rose. 

"Well, he's not exactly my boss..." GP began. "But Max is a good kid. He's a raer, through and through. A bit impulsive and a bit...reckless, but he's a good guy...mostly."

He paused for a moment, considering how to describe Max as a boss.

"As a boss, he's...demanding," he continued. "He has high expectations and he expects you to give 110% at all times. But he's also fair and if you do your job, he'll be the first to give you credit for it."

"You aren't actually thinking about taking his offer, are you?" he asked her bluntly, unable to keep his surprise out of his voice.

Max was the unpredictable one. Ariel…Ariel wasn’t. Ariel always did what was expected of her. 

He didn't want to discourage her if she was serious about the position, but he also had some strong opinions about the potential working relationship between her and Max.

"Max is...a handful," GP warned her. "He can be demanding, impulsive, and more than a bit reckless. As his personal assistant, you'd have to put up with a lot of things most people wouldn't even think of. Are you sure you want to get yourself into that kind of situation?"

Ariel cocked her head to the side. "I like a challenge," she said drily.

GP couldn't help but let out a low snort. That answer both reassured him as well as concerned him.

He had known that Ariel would see this as a challenge, and he had no doubt she was more than capable of handling Max and his…behavior. 

"You like a challenge, huh?" he repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Well, Max Verstappen sure as hell will be your biggest challenge yet. The hours will be long, the stress will be high, and you'll have to deal with a hell of a lot of Max's...antics."

He paused for a moment, giving her a hard look. He wanted to make sure she knew exactly what she was getting into with this job.

"You're more than capable of handling Max, I have no doubt. But be prepared for the ride of your life if you take on this job. Max is a handful, and I have no doubt he'll push your buttons. He'll probably drive you insane,” he warned her. “Do you think you can handle that?”

GP watched her closely, studying her expression for any hint of uncertainty or doubt. He was a good judge of character and could usually tell if someone was putting on a brave face. But if he was being honest, he couldn't detect any hint of hesitation on Ariel’s face.

Max could be a force of nature, more than most people could handle.

"Just keep in mind," he added, allowing himself a small smile. "Max is a race car driver. He's used to living his life at lightning speed. You'll need to keep up if you want to keep him on track."

There was a small smile blooming on Ariel's face.

"Oh, I expect nothing less," she said simply.

[lungrots]

Assuming 50 credits is $5 tops, Jimmy lost the crew $400 for failing to navigate away from the mass, which means fines are low. Something as dangerous as that would have resulted in higher fines, implying that the Tulpar aren’t paid adequately.

The USA federal minimum wage is $7.25 an hour. Pony Express would legally have to pay overtime for any hour worked over 40 in a week period, assuming Pony Express is paying the crew the federal minimum wage as they’re known to cut corners.

The crew has 19 hour shifts 7 days a week, giving them 133 work hours a week. 93 hours of that is overtime. Overtime pay is time and a half so $7.25 + $3.63 = $10.88. Overtime pay before taxes would be $1,011.84 a week. Regular pay would be $290 before taxes, giving each crew a base pay of 1,301.84 a week. The long hauls take a little over a year, meaning that the crew would possibly be paid a little over $67,695.68 each (gross weekly x 52 weeks). That would be a pay package of $270,782.72, assuming Daisuke has an unpaid internship. If Daisuke has a paid internship, then it would be $334,478.40.

Because Anya and Jimmy are canonically implied to struggle with finances (Anya stating that she doesn’t have savings; Jimmy’s QA saying he “finds hobbies to be for people with money”), it is possible that Pony Express is paying their employees the bare minimum. Curly would possibly be making $3-$4 more which is common for those in a blue collar management position.

But essentially, with what we know from the game, it is feasible that Pony Express pays their crew next to shit. The rest is speculation, as companies do often pay workers the bare minimum (federal USA minimum wage). So it’s possible that the crew aren’t getting paid enough, and they cannot afford to have their pay deducted from the credit package at the end of their trip.

[gayofthefae]

This scene is wild. He doesn't notice her exhaustion, says he wants to use her powers, then, to top it all off, when Dustin and Lucas leave him alone with her, he looks back at her then where they left irritated to be there

Craziest part? This is the last scene before their first kiss. It is actually the direct reason they have it.

Dustin and Lucas leave him alone with El and he asks her to the Snow Ball and kisses her. But do not be fooled, he is not in any way taking advantage of the opportunity of being alone with her.

As we know, he only brings up the Snow Ball after being prompted by her confusion. The intended conversation is about how he's happy that soon she will be able to live normally, with a bed and food. And even on the topic of the Snow Ball, he does not have intention to kiss her. He does it out of visible exhaustion at explaining it as a substitution for defining romantic feelings.

He did not want to be alone with her, preferring to go after Will and even looking a bit upset with Lucas and Dustin for leaving him with her. When left alone with her, he struck up a conversation about her living situation without no intended segue to romance before becoming avoidant to questions about romance and kissing her essentially to end the conversation.

He became her friend in season 3. He loved her starting when she got back and he actually got to know her - the her that teases and jokes and likes comic books and says bitchin'.

In season 1, he was impressed by her, he appreciated her understanding in a time when he needed it, and he was grateful for her help in finding Will. Here, she was not using her powers so he was not impressed, he was not in need of her comfort, and most of all, being with her was actively barring him from going after Will. So he resented it.

He loves her now. But in season 1, she provided a service he was eternally grateful for. That is never more clear than here: when she is not providing it.

As is always a version of this question that gives us our every answer:

He loves her when she's helping him find Will. But does he love her or that she's helping him find Will? The only way to know? What does he do when choosing between the two.

In season 2, we see this with Dart. He does not care and is more neutrally curious about Dart, if a little grossed out, like the others...until Will expresses distress over him. Then he hates him. But we only know this because in episode 4, when given the choice to tend to Will's distress or find Dart, he goes to Will.

Similarly, here, he meets El. He cares to ensure her safety, but it does need to be with him. He says outright that once his mom has helped them get her somewhere safe, he will go back out in search of Will. He also explains directly to Lucas that he kept her around because she knew Will. And then we have this moment: El or Will.

In seasons 1, he seemed in love with her because El and Will were a single choice. But when they weren't, he was exasperated to not be able to choose Will.

In season 2, it is mostly sidelined so harder to notice, but he chooses Will. In season 2 episode 3, he thinks she's right outside the door but doesn't find her. What does he do next? Pursue her? No. He goes to find Will and stays with him for the rest of the week and stops calling her. "353 days" is less romantic when you consider that it had been around 357 by now.

And, of course, in season 4, see him do the most interesting of all. After a day of seemingly choosing El - a year, really, including the previous season - he reveals that it had been surface level. He stops looking for El. He is the one who stops walking to fight with Will about their issues.

His priorities are clear if you look. Progressively, you need to look less and less. But they have always been there.

And in season 1, he didn't love El. He loved Will through her.

[circus-clangen]

Hi I’m a new circusclan enjoyer and I am SO confused on what’s happening. Can I get a rundown of the current lore we know? Or like links for me to understand because like who is marquee?? I read the moon updates how do I not know them. Also monkeypaw was only mentioned once I believe? What’s their deal??

You got it! I'm not planning on posting here until I finish the next moon--which most likely wont be until the new year, so it'll be nice to have this sitting at the top of my blog for a while! Here's the official Circusclan Lore rundown, including what happened in the moons, the lost moons, the puzzles, and the 10th ring of HELL that is the discord server: First, the starter cats: Ringstar--previously Ringtail of Heronclan, and brother of @echoes-in-echoclan 's Kestrelstar--and his two kits, Clownpaw and Tigerkit.

The pre-moon events: Ring left his clan and his brother to join the circus and be with a cat he met, named Goldmask. Suffient to say for now, Goldmask's treatment of Ring was less that ideal, but he loved her all the more. They had a son together, Clown. The birth was INCREDIBLY taxing on Goldmask, and almost killed her (detailed here https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/768067551594987520/wait-if-goldmask-wasis-paralyzed-how-did-she?source=share). A little while later, Goldmask became pregnant again. Ring was there when one of the kits was born, and knew it was not his. Goldmask knew she would die in this kitting--she'd barely survived having one kit, and this time, she'd had two. Only, Ring never knew the second one existed, because it's father had stolen it away before Ring could arrive. Goldmask didn't make it, and Ring was left alone in the circus, with Clown and Tiger.

The lost moons: I wasn't intending for Circusclan to become a comic. This, coupled with some technical issues, means moons 1-5 were lost. The technical issues were caused because, around moon 3-4, Tigerkit was taken by an eagle and killed. I wasn't ready for her to die, so I went into the code and brought her back... only, something strange happened. Before her in-game death, she was definitively Ring's favorite child. So much so, that I made jokes about it to my friends. He LOVED her. But after she died--after I brought her back--he hated her. He hated her so *viscerally*. A non-secret about the clangen save behind this comic is that both Ring and Clown's hate stats for Tiger are COMPLETELY maxxed. I knew I had to do something with this lore-wise, which I've detailed here (https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/769542088687747072/anything-youre-dying-to-share-3?source=share). Monkeypaw: In a tale I've yet to reveal, Monkeypaw left Heronclan with Ring, but not long after, became the Starclan guide for my clan. The reason you don't see much of him is some lore I've added. There's a lot to it, but the basics of it is that Monkeypaw is only remembered by Ringstar--none of the ever living cats have met him, and so he can't directly interact with him. Unfortunately, Ringstar's connection with Starclan right now is akin to an Internet Explorer browser windows connection to the internet. So, Monkeypaw is a somewhat abstract figure for now. Marquee: Marquee is the father of Tigertoe and the mystery Tigersibling. He's Goldmask's other mate--one Ringstar didn't know existed until Tiger's birth. A staple of Circusclan is the cats affinity for human culture, and their imitation of it. Unknown to them, Marquee was "there first". He's from an almost cultlike group of cats that have been trying to not only imitate, but steal, humanity, for many many years. It's unclear as of now which of his actions are on behalf of this unnamed group, and which are on behalf of his deceased mate Goldmask. Moons 6-14: These moons were drawn when Circusclan was a fun meme project for me to share with my friends. I had no intention of posting it on Tumblr, much less giving it this level of lore. You CAN glean some lore from these wretched posts, but most notable in this era, is the infamous "hide and seek game", in which the player's failure to correctly solve a puzzle (https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/746608261062639616/you-have-successfully-determined-that-ringstar?source=share) left Ringstar trapped in a burning caravan--the blaze implied to be set by Marquee. The players decided to let him burn, and he lost five lives. Moons 13-18: By this point, Tigertoe got the patrol event where a secret, outside-clan mate joins the clan: Trapezetangle. Also by this point, an outside-clan apprentice named Whippaw joins. Moon 19: I forgor Moon 20: The Experimental Era of video moons that were SUPER fun to make but took my entire life so I'm not going to be doing them every moon. Some people expressed they weren't comfortable watching a scary video, so the rundown of moon 20 is this: Ringstar died again, and Tigertoe found out she was pregnant. (For a rundown of that whole mess of a puzzle, look here: https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/761426559722782720/i-try-my-best-to-never-explain-my-puzzles-even-if?source=share) Moon 21: Present day! Horrible things are going to happen very soon <3 Present, currently-alive (or dead) characters that we're AWARE of, even if I haven't properly revealed them: Monkeypaw, Ringstar, Tigertoe, Tigersibling, Clownwish, Goldmask, Marquee, Trapezetangle, Whippaw Nicknames you should be aware of for clarity: Dave is Marquee. The discord server will only call him Dave. His name is Marquee. Please help. Hope this helps at least some!

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (4)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007 @astolary @biancatomlinson @lauraagrace

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part four | next part >>>

"I think I need a drink."

"Oh don't be so dramatic," your cheeks flush bright red. It's bad enough you don't know what to wear to your date with Kuroo, worse now that your blonde cousin is here to make fun of you until you're nothing but a squealing mess of embarrassment. You have half a mind to kick Atsumu out of your flat and call Osamu for help.

Alas, the grey-haired counterpart is busy with his restaurant these days. So it won't be fair to put that kind of responsibility on his shoulders. Definitely not when his twin is currently on vacation.

Atsumu just sends you a lazy smile from the living room couch, "aw c'mon Y/N. This is probably the first time since Aoi left that you're finally interested in someone. Isn't that something worth celebrating?"

"It's just dinner," you argue.

"And dessert," Atsumu winks.

You throw a pillow at him. He cackles even when it slams right into his face, "I'm joking!" he wheezes like a child high on sweets, kicking up his legs like Sakura would when she's excited, "I just can't believe it! And with someone I can vouch for!"

"What does vouch mean?" Sakura asks from her seat. She had been so glued to the tv screen ever since her uncle had the greatest idea to watch the reruns of the two Frozen movies. Little does he know he'll be stuck re-winding it again and again until he knows the lyrics by heart.

"Vouch for, means like to confirm something, from personal experience," Atsumu replies.

"Hm," Sakura frowns, as though an adult trying to contemplate his words, "I don't understand."

"`It's like if you tell me that you won third place at the egg race," you lean over the couch to rearrange your daughter's hair, "and I say that's something I can vouch for, that you won third place."

You watch, heart melting as Sakura's lips form an 'o' shape. She blinks up at you, "I still don't understand."

Atsumu guffaws, "it's okay sweetie. You don't have to understand it yet. You want some more of those marshmallows?"

You slap your cousin's hand away from the half-empty bowl, "that's exactly why her teeth are rotting," You snap at him, "why don't you give her real food?"

"I will! Once you get off my back and go have some incredible se--"

You toss another pillow at him and his yelp makes you let out a small chuckle. Thank god Sakura can't really put two and two together yet, and for that you're glad. At least it's possible to shield her innocence from Atsumu's wide mouth.

"Can you just go?" mumbles the said man himself from behind the pillow, "I thought your date was at six."

"Yeah but it's--" and that's when you realise it's not half-past five like you thought it was five minutes ago, "Oh shi--I mean shoot," you cut a glance at Sakura while grabbing your bag off the kitchen counter, "I'm off. You take care of her and--"

You round the couch, plant a quick kiss atop your daughter's head before heading towards the door, "--you keep her safe 'Tsumu!" you holler while tugging on your loafers, "and Sakura? Eat your veggies!"

"But I hate them mum!"

"They're good for you, and--"

"Y/N," Atsumu cuts you off with a shooing motion, "go. Now. Bye bye."

"Yeah--Yeah okay," you blow a raspberry and throw a final wave, "right. Bye then."

The dining place which Kuroo has suggested a few days back -- right after the incident in which you'd found yourself into his arms -- is tucked away into one of the corner streets, not quite far from the main road, and yet unnoticeable to passerby's with just one glimpse.

It's modern and cute, casual in a way that unconsciously makes you relax slightly as you walk through the olive-coloured doorway and take in the sight of rusty brick walls adorned with green ivy running along the ceiling, the wooden furniture and the cozy bar at the far right.

Kuroo is already seated at one of the smaller, circular tables, and raises a hand in greeting while you make your way to him.

"Hey," he's dressed differently today. Not at all how you usually see him; a dark v-neck and some dark trousers to match.

The sight makes your tummy tighten deliciously, "hi," you manage to croak back.

"I really thought you were going to bail on me," he has on a teasing smile, "guess I was wrong."

"That's the impression I gave you?" your eyebrows raise.

"You always surprise me," his grin widens at the heat flushing through your cheeks. Cute, he thinks, "anyway, I've never been here but they have good cocktails. Or so google says."

"You're that kind of person aren't you?" You take a menu from the centre of the table and scan the options, "the kind that reads a hundred of reviews before deciding on a restaurant?"

"That's what it's for, isn't it?" he tilts his head at you. That same, cocky grin that turns your heart to mush.

Jesus. He really needs to stop doing that.

You look back down at the menu, "I don't know. I don't eat out much."

"Then let me be your official guide," he says it with a wink, and you can't help the chuckle that bursts out of your mouth.

As per Kuroo's recommendation, you decide to opt for a seafood pasta while your host decides on a pizza to share. The food comes right as you're halfway through your glass of wine and by then you're comfortable enough that the conversation seems to flow easily, gathered in a cocoon where only you and Kuroo exist and where everything -- even reality -- seems to fall away piece by piece.

Oh god. You're already in a bit too deep.

And the fact is, it's not even that hard to fall for Kuroo. Because he's just so nice and kind and gentle and everything that you've ever really wanted in a man. He's bashful in a way that reminds you of a pop in need of attention, careful with the way he handles your feelings, and seems forever wanting to please. And maybe that's something most girls would find off-putting given the fact that mysterious men are all the rage nowadays.

But you're not like most girls. You like this golden retriever energy coming off him. You love that he asks for your opinion and is as soft as a marshmallow on the inside.

You also love how he talks to Sakura. Not just because she's your daughter. But it had been clear from the very beginning that your daughter was a little bit in love with him.

By the end of the dinner you're not surprised to find that your leg is brushing against his casually, comfortably, as though you've been friends forever. And when you catch his golden flecked eyes from across the table, the twinkle of fire in them, the small sprinkles of molten golden mixed into warm maroon does something to your heart.

He fights to pay the bill like a true gentleman, but then splits it with you when you throw him a scowl and protest that he's done more than his fair share.

"I just wanna tell you I'm not happy about this," he grumbles as you are handing the waiter the rest of the cash for the night, slipping on his jacket with his bottom lip jutted out like a child, "I will take you out properly one day."

"Then I'm going to look forward to it," you tease.

Kuroo looks down at you, "you--you mean that right?"

"What?" you glance at him, noting the uneasiness, the surprise on his face, "that you can take me out again? Or...did you--I mean, I won't mind if you don't--"

"I don't mind one bit," he breathes and your chest exhales in relief. Gods, you thought he was going to tell you there was to be no next time.

Because again, who wants to be tied down to a single mother with a four year old toddler? Most of your tinder dates would've already blanched and snuck out of your date by now.

"I'll take you home," Kuroo is already going to unlock his car door, but your hesitation makes him falter as he takes in your hesitation, "what is it?"

"Uhm--well, Atsumu is there tonight. He's babysitting Sakura," you send him a sheepish smile, "Unless you don't mind going back there, but I--I thought we could maybe ...spend some more time alone...together?"

Heat is spewing across your cheeks by the end of your sentence, but the fond look that Kuroo gives you doesn't go by unnoticed as he cracks a grin.

"Sounds good to me," he gestures for you to get in, "wanna go get some ice cream then? Or a drink?"

That is how you find yourself sharing a couch with the sports coach, nursing a cucumber cocktail in your hand while he has a beer in his. You tease him about drinking when he's supposed to be the definition of health, and he answers that you're supposed to keep this little secret under wraps.

"I wasn't allowed to drink at all, until I left my volleyball team," Kuroo mentions then as he takes a swig of his drink.

"That sounds like a lot of sacrifice, especially for you."

"What does that mean?" he teases with a grin.

"While other boys are out there raving, experimenting with stuff," you answer and tilt your head towards him, "didn't you get jealous of what they could do and what you couldn't?"

"I suppose to an extent," he shift his legs and it brushes against your thigh, shoulders pressing to yours as warmth suddenly seeps into your right side, "but I had a lot to gain. So I never thought I missed out. Plus, all my good friends were on the team. So we suffered together if that made sense."

"Yeah," you smile at the thought of Atsumu and Osamu being deprived of house parties and clubbing when you were all younger, "it does. Actually, I was quite envious of Atsumu and Osamu when we were younger. They both knew what they wanted -- well, until Osamu decided to quit and become a chef."

"What did you want to be when you were younger?"

"Me?" your lips curled into that same crooked smile that caught Kuroo's heart into a mid-spin every single frickin' time. He knows how to breathe, just forgets to whenever you're around, "I wanted to have my own cake shop. Got the diploma, never got round to actually doing anything about it."

"How did you end up in the event planning business?"

So you tell him. About one of your neighbours asking you if you could help decorate their son's first birthday party. You didn't have the heart to say no and from there onwards, your clientele grew over the months. At some point, you'd realised this job could make ends meet, all while giving you some flexibility around Sakura's schedule.

Your diploma was stuffed at the back of a drawer at some point, forgotten and useless. You'd never gotten around to framing it.

Now, you wished you had. It brings back a bitter wave of memories, ones that are tied to Aoi and that echo with pain whenever you think for too long.

"I could start all over again but--" you think of Sakura and her sweet, smiling face. The way the light would bounce over her eyes whenever she looks up at you full of trust and honest love, "I don't think I can. I'm a bit past my prime."

Kuroo shakes his head, "okay, hear me out but--right before all this PE coach thing came my way, I was actually just a waiter."

You blink, "huh?"

"Yeah. I quit the team a few years back right after I left university, and for someone with a degree in Education and with no experience, jobs are hard to find these days," Kuroo chuckles as he takes another swig of his drink, "so I had to find part-time work while I waited. It took a few years and well-- I landed my first job just a year ago. Quit when I realised the environment was shit, and then here I am now," he lifts his shoulders in a half-shrug, "what I mean is--I don't think there's ever any real timeline for anyone. You just--do the best you can, with what you have. And if you gotta start at thirty, then that's fine too."

The bittersweet smile that fills your face is enough to render him breathless, "thanks Kuroo," you murmur softly, "I'm not sure I'm as brave as you though."

"uh--No, you're managing a four-year old by yourself," he sends you a pointed look, "that in itself is an act of courage. Not everyone can do it, especially the way you do it."

Your cheeks flame, "you flatter me--"

"But I'm not," he interrupts gently. His hand lifts up, pushing a stray strand of hair from your face and your breath hitches when his touch seems to linger there for a beat longer than he's supposed to, "I actually really do think you're like one of the bravest people I've met."

"Stop it," now you're really embarrassed, hands coming up to hide your face.

Kuroo lets out a soft laugh, "I'm just telling the truth."

"Or you're just sweet-talking me."

"Okay maybe I am, but I'm not a liar," is it your imagination that makes you believe there's a little blush scattered along his cheeks? Maybe. But you tempt yourself into believing that's your effect on him.

Kuroo looks away, though he has a smile on his face as he toys with his beer, "so did it work?" he asks.

"What?" you finish the cocktail. The alcohol stings as it slides down your throat, before it warms you up from the inside.

"The sweet-talking," and he's back with that grin of his, dashingly courageous, dashingly cute and he knows it.

You whack him playfully along his shoulder, "you're an idiot."

Kuroo mutters something that might've not reached out ears if you weren't paying attention. But you swear that he says something along the lines of "only for you" which has you blushing down to the tips of your toes all over again.

It's past two in the morning when you manage to reach your flat, now a little tipsy from all the alcohol humming through your veins. You're both laughing about something -- something stupid -- when the door to your flat flies open to reveal a grinning Atsumu.

You straighten, though wobbling in your heels. Kuroo presses a hand to your back, grounding you.

"Hey 'tsumu," you say breathlessly, feeling heat sting your spine spreading from Kuroo's fingertips.

"Well someone's tipsy," Atsumu tips his head towards the raven-haired man, "hope you didn't do anything stupid--"

"Who do you take me for?" Kuroo retorts as he prods you towards the entrance.

"Yeah I know, just checkin'," your cousin eyes the proximity of your bodies, the way Kuroo stands almost protectively behind you, and something in his eyes softens, "alright then. I'll take my leave."

"What? This late? Why don't you stay over--"

"And what?" Atsumu raises a brow at you, "watch you both suck face? No thanks. By the way," his grin widens when you turn beetroot and Kuroo almost strangles himself with surprise, "Sakura's already asleep, so no matter what, don't go wakin' her."

"I'm so sorry," you whisper out to your date when your cousin's out of earshot and Kuroo's managed to manoeuvre you into the flat, "he's not usually that annoying--"

"I know," Kuroo's lips twitch in amusement at the way you worriedly look up at him, "what? What's gotten you looking like someone ran over your pet cat?"

You gasp, "that's not nice, Kuroo sensei!"

"Kuroo," he emphasises his name. One arm going up to press against the doorframe, he leans in towards you, "actually--you can call me Tetsurou."

"Tetsurou," your head cranes up to look at him and --wow, he's tall. And he smells good. Like boy perfume and something woody, something musky you can't quite place, "That's a nice name."

"Thanks," his words trail off, body unconsciously leaning towards you. it's only then you realise how close you are, chests almost touching, noses bare millimetres, his entire frame practically engulfing your tiny one.

He's so close that you can see the way light bounces off his orbs, or the small wrinkles at the corner of his eyes that deepen whenever he smiles.

Something in your chest tightens. You swallow thickly.

And that's when you feel it; his hand skimming your waist.

You let out a sharp breath at the same time that the young man pulls you to him. Gently.

Falling against him like a puppet, hands splay out to press against his shirt and heat permeates your skin and makes you sweat because--Kuroo is ripped. You can feel it, feel him, underneath your palms. He's built like stone and you wonder briefly what he must look like without them--

Oh god.

Your face flames and that doesn't go unnoticed by the raven-haired man. He grins wickedly, his other hand reaching out to cup your jaw so that you cannot look away.

"What?" his murmur is soft like melted chocolate. It makes you weak in the knees and you're glad he's holding you up against him, "what's with the face?"

"N--Nothing," you try to steady your racing heart, "uhm...you're..." he's unconsciously leaning in towards you, as if drawn like a moth to a flame, "...you're really close."

"Seems like it," he murmurs huskily.

"I--uhm--" you shake your head slightly, biting down onto your lower lip as your eyes flutter back up to his. You notice how his pupils have darkened with something else, something that makes your stomach knot deliciously, "Kuroo?"

"Hm?"

"I'm--" you try to scramble your thoughts together, but it's hard when he's so close and when he's looking at you like that, "I'm too old for you."

His body stills, "what?"

"I'm--" shame fills you up and you look away with embarrassment as you repeat, "I'm too old for you."

"Do you really think that you're too old for me?" Kuroo asks, "or is that just an excuse?"

"I have a daughter--"

"--It's only three years' difference--"

"--And you have your whole life ahead of you to figure out what you wa--"

"--I know exactly what I want--"

"I have responsibilities and I can't--"

"Can't what?" with one tug, you fall against him. You let out a sound of shock but Kuroo's hand is insistent as he presses your spine to his body, his palm splaying out and practically enveloping all of your back, "I have responsibilities too, Kosuke-san. And yet," his eyes seem to search yours for a minute, "I can't seem to stay away."

"Like I said," you're not quite sure whether he can even hear you, because your heart seems to be galloping so hard you feel it vibrate through your ears, "I'm too old for you, you should find someone of your own age, someone who's just as ambitious, with no strings attached to them--"

"I want you."

"--and like I said, I'm a mother," you're babbling now, "and I need to put Sakura first, no matter what. I'm sorry, I don't know why I decided to come out today. I shouldn't have, this is a mistake and--"

Kuroo's hand slips to your cheek. He tugs you up, and his lips land on yours.

You freeze.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh shit shit shit.

Shit.

This isn't happening.

This isn't supposed to happen!

And yet...it is.

His mouth parts slowly, sliding over yours in such a sweet way that you let out a restrained sound from the back of your throat. Gods, even his mouth is delicious. His hand sifts through your locks to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer by the waist as he kisses your next breath away. Your chest stutters and you all but melt into him, surprise and shock overrun by the sudden desire shooting through your veins.

Your hands, initially at his chest, make a grab for his shirt as your lips follow his in a dance that leaves your heart stuttering and has you gasping for breath. But still Kuroo doesn't relent. He kisses you again and again and again, mouth weaving between yours and teeth nipping at your lips like he knows exactly what you want. A soft whimper bubbles up your throat and he grunts in satisfaction, tugging your hair down and tilting your head back to ravage your lips like there's no tomorrow.

You part after what seems like forever, a small gasp falling from your lips. But Kuroo's slides against your jaw, "god Y/N," he groans out, nipping at the skin along your jawline before slowly pressing butterfly kisses along your neck. You jolt at the suddenness of the action, mouth parting as heat bubbles up in your lower stomach while the young man presses you even closer if that's possible so that you feel every single inch of him against you.

A surprised yelp echoes out of your throat when he finds a sweet spot at the junction between your neck and collarbone. Kuroo smirks against your skin, nipping the area gently with his teeth as your hands trickle up to entangle in his locks, grabbing at them and making him grunt.

The hand along your waist flutters up your spine like a caress and you fold like leaf with the softest whine. Kuroo moves up to claim your mouth once more, kissing the rest of your logic away until you forget why you're here in the first place.

It's not until he's pressing you up against the doorframe that reality crashes back into you. You push him away gently, so gently that your mouths part with a soft sound and as you gaze up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, your heart jumps at the way he's looking at you; desire and tenderness and affection and lust all mixed in together. His chest is heaving just as much as yours is, and when you bite down onto your lower lip the growl that rumbles through his chest makes you all weak in the knees.

"That mouth," he mutters, thumb unconsciously going up to trace your lower lip. He pulls it away from your teeth so that he can trace its outline.

And then he's back to kissing you like he never stopped.

You kiss back with just as much ardour, getting lost into him and for once not caring that all sense of logic and self-restraint are now gone, evicted by the pure selfish need to have him close, closer.

His hands are everywhere; on your hips, in your hair, tracing your abdomen and making you gasp with every searing, scalding touch of palms against skin. But you press closer still, your own hands roaming his back and feeling up all the muscles that tense under your touch.

Kuroo suddenly draws away so quickly that you can't help but whine and tug him closer.

He resists with a groan, nose brushing yours as he furrows his brows, "Kosuke-san, I really cannot."

"What?" you're half-way out of focus at this point, more interested in kissing the soft skin at his jaw.

Kuroo lets out a sound between a moan and a grunt, making your insides twist with desire as his hands find your hips to pull you away, "If we continue, I won't--I don't promise I'll be able to hold back so--" he breathes out raggedly, "for the sake of my own sanity, we--we need to stop."

"Oh," you blink. It takes a moment for the words to make sense. When they do, your eyes widen on their own accord and you push him away, embarrassment flooding through you, "I--Oh, I'm sorry--"

Kuroo drops a firm kiss onto your mouth, grunting in satisfaction when you make a surprised sound, "I told you," he murmurs against your lips, "to stop saying sorry. It's gonna be the death of me."

He finally draws away and pushes your stray strands away from your face, a force of habit, it seems. Your eyes flutter up to meet his, flushing at the gentleness lying in those beautiful pupils. Throughout your relationship with Aoi, you're not sure he's ever looked at you with as much intensity as Kuroo has for the past five minutes. It does something funny to your heart.

"Right," for someone who'd been previously so adamant on not making out with the said man, you're quite frazzled. Your hands are latching onto him like you're a baby koala and he's your tree trunk, and you slide them down to your sides like a shameful kid, "yeah, I--" but you quickly retract the apology in your mouth.

Kuroo grins crookedly, that smile sending your heart into spinning cartwheels, "I'll be off then," he murmurs. His hand smoothes over the back of your head affectionately, and he leans in to press a chaste kiss to your temple.

"How far away do you live?" you have to ask. You feel bad for making him drive all the way out here, it's practically morning at this point.

"Not far," Kuroo sends you a comforting smile, "don't worry, I'll text you when I reach--"

"Do you--" the words blurt out of your mouth before you can stop them, "--do you want to stay over?"

Kuroo blinks. His mouth parts. Closes. Parts again. And then, what seems like a blush litters his cheeks.

He shakes his head, "ah--I think that's a bad idea Kosuke-san--" he spares a glance at your lips, "--especially today."

"Oh," realisation dawns and you flush, "right. Okay. Okay then."

"Don't worry. We have all our time," he grins cheekily.

"I'm still too old for y--"

Kuroo interrupts you with a kiss, "enough of that," he murmurs, "or I'm gonna have to kiss you again."

"That sounds--" your nose brushes against his, "--promising."

"Don't tempt me," he presses one last kiss right above your eye, cups your face for an instant, before he turns away towards the corridor, "goodnight Kosuke-san."

"Goodnight Kuroo," your heart melts, "can you--can you text me when you're home?"

He sends you a grin over his shoulder, "I thought you said you were too old for me?"

"I am too old for you," your face is so red you feel like you could cook an egg on top of it.

"Nah, never," he winks and before you know it, he's gone.

Leaving you and your poor, stuttering heart.

[elliesglock]

OKAY MEGA THOUGHTS FOR TN

(sorry for the rant)

1. i'm so sorry, i know ice helped us a lot last year...but she is not on the same level as these ranked opponents we are facing. isuneh needs to take a breather on the bench and KEEP OUT of my paint

2. i have to say an apology for kk. although she hasn't been playing terrible, tn is the kk ive been waiting to see. CAUSING 4 TURNOVERS??? IN 5 MINS??? kk you are my best husky girl

3. ashlyn meh. don't got much to say about her. she played pretty good, defended alright. not seeing much improvement besides her game against iowa st. but i still believe in my freshie.

4. paige im proud of. i think there's been a few games where she's been very off the ball and not herself, but i can see her STRUGGLING with genos playmaking. she has learned to be passive. and that's okay for now, but she's not going to have very much fun in the W. I DIGRESS. she played very well tonight. solid defense in the beginning AND THEN WTF HAPPENEDDDDD. she literally hit that orange fucking fab in the locker room and then all the sudden she has juju locked down not even able to hit the ball before the shot clock runs out. very proud of her defense AT RHE END. i really hope p locks in and starts DEMANDING the ball every possession.

5. no fucking foul calls at all. as always. paige gets most likely fouled on that last possession no whistle. THE ILLEGAL SCREEN CALL. i literally almost dipped. uconn will never be free from fuck ass refs. how many times are we gonna let them get away w crazy ass fouls and not blow the whistle. insanity to me.

6. our defense as a team looked okay. i think kk locking in and giving us our fast break points helped boost the momentum. kk i will be at your door tn to eyp!

7. morgan cheli. AYE I SEE U. you did good, i'm proud of my baby freshie. need to learn not to foul and if you're going to foul make sure you're playing some tight ass defense at least. not much to say on her but she's free from my wrath tn.

8. none of our bigs besides sarah can handle a basketball so there's that. i thought my girl jana would have it in her. apparently not. STINKER JAIL U GO

9. i'm so happy azzi got to have some mins. wish she would've played more.

10. we need another solid big i'm gonna say it again.

overall opinions:

i think we played decent. we were struggling in the beginning and we did not have any solid performances from our bigs besides sarah always assume this. we MUST work on perimeter defense and how we are gonna be able to minimize turnovers. i think the first step is BOOTING ICE OFF THE FUCKING FLOOR GRANDPA. my biggest problem right now is with geno. he is not coaching adequately and although we are playing as a team finally and we have paige and sarah playing well, dumbass decisions by coaches are gonna be what kills us. and also defense and also lack of offense sometimes. pls don't come in my inbox yelling at me for my geno takes. i've been saying this. he needs to put paige on ball control and have her facilitating shots right down the paint to sarah or have her using her midrange advantage. thank you for joining my ted talk/uconn yap session.

to all a goodnight

(AND ALSO IM PISSED WE ONLY GET TO PLAY IN OUR CONFERENCE FOR ABOUT 80 YEARS THIS IS A DROUGHT)

[meetinginsamarra]

Fanfics I Really Liked in October 2024

So. Since I keep a list of what I´ve read anyway (there´s always a list), I will rec all the fics I´ve wholly enjoyed on a monthly basis. Old and new, canon or AU, big or small authors, long or short but nearly always Johnlock (-ish).

++++

When Harry Met Mary by Calais_Reno  @calaisreno

What if Harry Watson had met Mary Morstan? What would they have thought of each other? A retelling of the events of Series 3 and 4, through the eyes of Harry Watson.

A very clever and very likeable Harry Watson does her part to help Sherlock. Such an intriguing change of POV.

You by my side by 221Beloved @221beloved

This year's Flufftober prompts from tumblr, one chapter for each. Not necessarily consistent, but all kind of one story.

Delicious fluffy fingerfood!

Gilly's by Peanitbear @peanitbear

John goes to a bar the night before he ships out. Sherlock goes to a bar to have one night as a "regular" person before becoming a trouphy husband. Guess who meet each other?

Bittersweet different first meeting and a happy end. Lovely!

Scars Don't Lie by CumberCurlyGirl  @cumbercurlygirl

After Sherlock’s return from the dead, John, still scarred and mistrustful, puts an emotional distance between them. He grudgingly returns to Baker Street but refuses to reassume his old role as Sherlock's partner and blogger. When Molly has a family emergency and can’t help Sherlock with what seems an exciting Russian espionage case, John, despite his lingering anger, volunteers to take her place. The prospect of going undercover as husbands to a couples retreat is just too enticing to refuse.

Summary says it all. Go read!

Scheherazade of the Thrift Shop by standbygo @blogstandbygo

Sherlock, cut off by Scotland Yard and desperate for something to do, decides to try deducing in a thrift shop. There he meets John Watson, back from the war and in a difficult situation. As John tries to recover his possessions from the shop, they begin a strange friendship built on storytelling.

Such a cool idea for a different first meeting!

Written in Ashes by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) @88thparallel

Sherlock becomes the prime suspect in a homicide case, and recently unearthed memories of his childhood are complicating matters. It's up to John to track down answers — can he help Sherlock before it's too late?

Very suspenseful case concerning Sherlock's memory issues after TFP, lots of hurt/comfort and a smart John. Happy end, of course!

[rey-jake-therapist]

JDP: [T]hat was the very crown with which Sauron himself was once killed. So taking ownership of it and using it as a weapon comes full circle. The victim who had been killed by the crown in episode one is now the aggressor able to use it for his own ends. We also know it's a powerful artifact that had the ability to…banish for hundreds of years a Maiar as powerful as Sauron. Being able to use it as a weapon that could penetrate Galadriel's collarbone, we knew that it would do some serious damage. PM: Spiritual damage in addition to physical damage. JDP: If I'm playing Dungeons & Dragons, I don't even want to know the damage potential of an artifact like Morgoth's Crown.

--Patrick McKay, J.D. Payne - The Rings of Power Season Two Finale Explained (Vanity Fair)

(Presentation 'stolen' from @fluffycakesistainted's post, only to avoid hacking it, I hope you can forgive me :) )

So I got curious following this line about Dungeons & Dragons... Why did JD Payne bring it up? I know absolutely nothing about Dungeons & Dragons, but I made a little research out of curiosity....

In D&D,

An artifact is a rare and powerful magic item in Dungeons & Dragons. The means to create artifacts are either unavailable to mortal ken, or else long forgotten. Artifacts are often unique or finite in number, and cannot be destroyed except by specific means.

Sounds like Morgoth's Crown could indeed belong there. For fun, I looked for the list of artifacts that are available in D&D, and oh oh, what did I find?

The Crown of Horn

Now doesn't it remind you a bit of our Crown...

The history of this Crown of Horns is very interesting:

The Crown of Horns was an evil, intelligentartifact of great power.[4] While its origins were murky, the Crown was believed to have been forged either in ancient Netheril,[2] or by Myrkul, the former god of Death.[6][3] The artifact carried with it a long history of corruption, mayhem, and tragedy.

Myrkul, Melkor, Morgoth... God of death, Dark Lord....

Right under this description of the crown, there's a quote from a female character named Laeral Silverhand. It gets more and more interesting:

"We found an artifact, the Crown of Horns, and I in my pride decided that my powers of will and magic were sufficient to counter the evil I sensed within it. I wore the Crown, and it claimed me as its own. Years went by, terrible years during which I lost Laeral and became the Wild Woman, the Witch of the North. I remember little of those years, which in many ways is a blessing." — Laeral Silverhand, in a letter to her nephew Danilo Thann, Ches 3, 1368 DR.[8]

I'll go back to Laeral Silverhand later on. Before, here's what they say about the powers of the Crown of Horns:

It is unknown what powers the artifact had before it was possessed by Myrkul other than its sentience and its capability to interfere with the minds of its wearers. After its possession however, the Crown imbued the wearer with several considerable necromantic powers.[10] They were granted an aura of undeath similar to those that surrounded liches, became immune to necromantic spells[4] and all manner of death magic.[3] Following the god's destruction, the vestiges of Myrkul could strongly influence the actions of whomever wore the Crown of Horns, making suggestions within their consciousness, possessing them outright, and even altering their moral and ethical outlook to more closely resemble his own.[4] No individual could remove their crown unless Myrkul's essence wished for his artifact to find a new host.[3][5][10] Over time, anyone wearing the crown became increasingly paranoid, specifically about their possession of the Crown itself. Eventually, they succumbed to the call of madness and undeath, and became a lich themself.[3][4][5][10]

The description keeps going on, I won't copy/paste it all, but basically, it sounds like this crown has powers of control and fascination similar to the One Ring.

Now about Laeral Silverhand:

Laeral Silverhand (pronounced: /ˈlɛərɔːl/ LAIR-awl[15]), born Anamanué Silverhand and formerly known as the Witch-Queen of the North[3] and later the Lady Mage of Waterdeep, was one of the Seven Sisters, a Chosen of Mystra,[14] and the Open Lord of Waterdeep during the late 15th century DR.[3] Together with her partner Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun, they led the Moonstars, a dissident faction of the Harpers, which sought to guide the cities and countries of the North toward a shared destiny.[

She had a fascinating life, not very different from Galadriel's actually, who may have been an inspiration? They're both witches with a lot of powers in their hands, for a start. I don't know, but here's what's said about her connection with the Crown of Horns:

Under an assumed name, Laeral eventually established herself as a hard-drinking and fearless adventurer, coming to lead an adventuring band known as the Nine. In the Year of the Wandering Maiden, 1337 DR, Laeral and the Nine discovered the ancient Nethereseartifact known as the Crown of Horns in Yûlash. The Crown was actually planted for her to find by the Netherese lichAumvor The Undying, who wished to use the Crown to influence her to marry him. The plot failed when Laeral donned the headpiece and the Crown's powers conflicted with Laeral's spellfire and drove her into madness.[30]

(The Nine... they seem to be very different characters from Sauron's Nine, but it's nevertheless a funny coincidence).

"The Crown was actually planted for her to find by the Netherese lichAumvor The Undying, who wished to use the Crown to influence her to marry him.".... Well well well, Inchresting....

It's also said that the Crown's powers "drove her into madness" and "claimed her at its own".... I wonder if something similar could happen to Galadriel, because of the wound left by Morgoth's Crown? But it would be Sauron who would claim her, perhaps?

It is also said that "Laeral ceased her prolific creation of magical items after she was freed from the Crown of Horns", which isn't without reminding me of Galadriel who said "I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel."

To be clear, there's no mention of stabbing using the Crown of Horns as a weapon. But the fact that JD Payne mentioned Dungeons & Dragons and what an artefact like Morgoth's Crown could do in this context give me pause, especially considering the similarities between these two crowns, and Galadriel and Laeral...

[thebaldursmouthgazette]

You didn’t prove anything, because literally ALL of your sources are propaganda that we know to be false propaganda meant to increase the gods’ influence. It would be like arguing Elgar’nan is actually the good guy because all the old tales say he is the loving and benevolent creator god. The old tales do say he is the loving and benevolent creator god, but that’s because the old tales are bullshit propaganda intended to gather worshippers.

Give me one single piece of evidence that it was Mythal who did the ritual (did the ritual. Not that she was involved. Not that it was her idea. Not that she ordered solas to do it. That she, personally, did the ritual), that is not filtered down through several thousand years of “Mythal the protector” propaganda that co existed with several thousand years of dread wolf propaganda. I’ll save you a trawl through the wiki: there isn’t any. You’ve proved nothing, because you don’t understand what your sources are. You don’t understand you are citing false propaganda written by an unreliable narrator. It’s not supposed to be read as historically accurate, yet you’re treating it like the absolute truth.

My evidence?

1) The initial memory: Solas says “it is awful, what we’re doing”. The dagger is created, but his job does not end there. He is not just giving the dagger to Mythal, he is continuing with the task of sundering the titans

2) the discussion: after the first memory, Emmrich mentions that they have all “experienced a memory”. While the player sees a shot of the mural and hears spoken dialogue, the actual characters have experienced the memory. Experienced Solas’ memory. So when they go on to discuss that solas did the actual sundering like it’s established fact, that is because it is. They’ve actually experienced the memory and do not need to dissect the specific wording. They actually know that solas went on to do the ritual.

3) Solas’ guilt: one of the revenants we see is the “slaughter of the pillars”, the pillars being the titans. The other two revenants are “betrayal of Felassan”, representing Solas murdering Felassan in his sleep, and “fall of the protector”, referencing solas killing Mythal at the end of inquisition. These two revenants are both direct actions that solas took. He did not get someone else to kill those people, he killed them with his own hands. The slaughter of the pillars revenant is the same. It would not make sense for this guilt to hold such a high place, among those he had killed with his own hands, had he not also sundered the titans with his own hands.

4) Solas’ reaction to being accused: during the banters before the final battle, Davrin and Harding both confront him for sundering the titans and causing the blight. He does not make excuses, as he almost always does. He does not find a loophole, as he almost always does. He does not find a way where he is technically not to blame, as he almost always does. If he had simply made the dagger and given it to Mythal, with the warning that she should not go through with her plan, he would mention it. He consistently takes any and every opportunity to make excuses for himself. This is one of the major parts of the plot, it is a major part of why he is unable to leave the regret prison. He finds any excuse he can to lessen his responsibility for his actions. If there was such an obvious way for him to do so, he would take it. He doesn’t, because it does not exist. Because he did not simply give the dagger to Mythal and advise against using it, he is the one who performed the ritual. And as it is, instead of trying to find, as neve puts it, “a pretty excuse”, he practically admits it.

5) yes, the art book: if it was just the art book alone then no, that would not be enough evidence. But it’s not the art book alone, and, importantly, I am not using the art book as a piece of canon. I am using it as proof that that was the writers intentions at least at some point in the process. There was a point, in the creation of veilguard, where they were intending for Solas to have been the one to do the ritual. And this was the case so late into production, that the art book was printed with that as fact. Even if they changed their mind, it shows that none of the sources from the previous games contradict solas being the one to have done the ritual, because at the very least it would be lore compatible for it to be solas, and more likely it would be because that was the plan in the pretty well planned out lore the entire time. And that they would have had to change their mind, because Mythal was not the original intention. With this insight into the production process in mind, it becomes clear that everything I have mentioned was written with the understanding that it was solas who did the ritual. Given that they wrote a lot of stuff pointing to it being solas, because the intention was that it was solas, and left it in the game and didn’t put anything in to suggest that it wasn’t solas, it stands to reason that that is because it was solas. They didn’t change it. It was solas.

You know in retrospect sundermount is a hell of a name for a mountain

[reelvibes91]

5 Worst Movies of 2024

With the year winding down, there are a lot of conversations about what everyone was impressed by or what misfired this year. It is always good to start with the bad news. This means that this year, I will be doing things a little differently. I'm starting off with my least favorite movies of the year before next week, releasing my 10 favorites. Let's dive right in.

5. We Live in Time- Andrew Garfield and Florence Pugh had my intrigue meter abuzz when this film was announced. The final product was a jarring mess of time jumps and little to no emotional pay off at all. It never felt like the weight of the situation resonated because just when you wanted something to hit hard the movie cut to the next thing.

4. Trap - So much of this movie was predictable and way too simple of a plot. Hartnett did what he could, but the writing hindered this movie the most. The second half just featured foolish decision after foolish decisions made by the lead character. He was built up during the first half to be sleek and very much under the radar. He did himself by just making the most irrational decision ever.

3. If- Ryan Reynolds just plays PG Kid friendly Deadpool without the suit. This movie was designed to be conceptual to kids, and it did work in that regard. However, the best kids' movies also make adults feel nostalgic or emotional. This one accomplished neither of those things and generally felt off right from the beginning. It felt very much like all they had to do was give us cool looking characters and make Ryan Reynolds cynical, and that would be enough. That has worn incredibly thin over the years.

2. Don't Move- Netflix really thought this was something special, but it was a steaming pile of trash. It was not at all a good movie. The premise was very easy to follow but like too many movies it was convenient until no longer required. The acting was bland, and the scenes were repetitive. There were zero stakes as well because by the time anything happened, you just truly wanted your Netflix subscription payment back for the month. Had this been a cinematic release there is a very good chance many people would have just abandoned this and snuck into something else.

1. Deadpool and Wolverine- This is definitely not the popular opinion on this movie. It just sucked the life out of me. The humor was bland. Ryan Reynolds did not work for me as he has in the prior two. Every joke was just Deadpool saying the most obscene things imaginable and Wolverine telling him to shut his mouth. Insert scenes of violence in between that mostly looked jarringly awful from a CGI standpoint. Especially the fight sequence in the van. It was horribly shot and executed.

[sirhamburrger]

wins and losses (t. kageyama x f!reader)

in which two wins for him are two wins for you, and a loss for him is also a win for both of you. wc: 1.4k || tags/cw: pre- and post-timeskip reader and kageyama, reader went to kitagawa daiichi and was manager for seijoh vbc, reader is lowkey (highkey) pining over him, msby 4 are the best (worst?) wingmen a/n: "happy birthday i guess... it-it's not like i like you or anything!" (you must know i visibly cringed at that) happy womb eviction date my sweet sweet tobio <3 you are my second favourite dark-haired shonen manga deuteragonist whose birthday falls on dec 22nd :)

when you entered high school as a first-year, you joined the volleyball club as a manager for the boys’ team. for the most part, it was so you could see some familiar faces from kitagawa daiichi - your old classmates kindaichi and kunimi were playing for seijoh now, and so were your upperclassmen oikawa and iwaizumi. 

it was - and still is - a busy job, taking care of about twenty teenage boys who more than not got fired up over the littlest things (or in kunimi’s case, not fired up at all). still, it was fun and rewarding, and makki and mattsun practically became your older brothers after a while. 

but there’s no denying that when you walked into the gym for the first practice session of the school year, you were looking out for one person from the kitagawa daiichi boys’ volleyball team in particular -

tobio kageyama, your ex-classmate and longtime crush.

back in middle school, you’d walk past the gym during lunch break, and he’d looked so cool as he set the ball for his teammates. your friends used to tease you about it, even going so far as to try and set you two up. luckily, you stopped them before they could do anything. suffice it to say he probably didn’t know of your existence at all. you were determined to change that in high school.

but he wasn’t there that day, or any day after that. 

you asked oikawa about it once, and he simply smiled sweetly and said he was glad dear ol’ kageyama hadn’t taken up the offer to come to seijoh - kindaichi and kunimi shared his sentiments. iwaizumi only sighed and looked over at oikawa. 

“it’s probably for kageyama’s own good,” he’d said, not elaborating on his words. 

and you see what he means now, even as karasuno wins their match against seijoh in the 2015 spring interhigh qualifiers. your players are devastated, and rightfully so. they’ve lost to karasuno countless times over the years, and this only seems to be salt rubbed into their gaping wound. 

ex-captains oikawa and yahaba facetime your phone after the game, hoping to say hello to a post-victory team, but their faces fall when they hear the news. you leave the team huddled around your tiny phone courtside, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom.

you lean back against the cold wall of the hallway. karasuno’s going to nationals, and maybe you should feel bitter about it. 

but somehow, all you can seem to think is - kageyama’s going to nationals.

***

not even a year later, when you've already graduated and gone to university, you see him on television representing japan in mens’ volleyball at the olympics. because that's what he is now - a man. so different from the quiet middle schooler or the intense-looking high schooler he once was.

he looks good - better - now. broader. stronger. taller. carries himself with a newfound confidence. he is a machine in action; his form is perfect as he serves the ball. it flies across his teammates’ heads, over the net, and slams itself into an open space on the court.

“aaaaand… number 20, tobio kageyama, again with his no-touch service ace! he’s practically unstoppable!”

the crowd goes absolutely wild for him, and he only nods slightly at his teammates’ praises, humble as usual.

sakusa snorts from beside you on the sofa, and bokuto just laughs. 

“what?” you mumble, only half-listening out to what he’s about to say.

“you’re practically salivating over the guy, y’know,” the itachiyama graduate deadpans. “i’m glad he didn’t come to our uni or you’d practically be following him around like a lovesick puppy.”

“i-”

japan wins the match that day. of course, kageyama is all over the news after that; labelled a genius setter straight out of a newly-revitalised powerhouse high school, and already competing on the world stage. your chest tightens when you see the post-match interviews.

kageyama sits there, his face calm and composed, as reporters throw question after question at him. he answers them with the same quiet determination you remember, though his voice has deepened, more self-assured now.

you feel a strange mix of pride and yearning. it’s ridiculous, really. you haven’t spoken to him in years - if ever - and yet you can’t help but feel connected to his success. like a win for him is also a win for you

later that evening, sakusa teases you again as you scroll through your phone, looking at photos from the match.

“just send him a dm already,” he mutters, leaning his head against the back of the couch.

you blink a couple of times, considering the suggestion. but you quickly put it out of your mind.

“yeah. as if he’d even remember me.”

sakusa raises an eyebrow but says nothing more, leaving you to stew in your thoughts.

***

you’re there for sakusa’s big match - the msby jackals vs the schweiden adlers. it’s one of the most anticipated major league games of the whole season. mainly you’re going to support sakusa and his teammates like the good friend that you are.

… and kageyama being there doesn’t hurt either.

the jackals win. it’s strange seeing kageyama on the losing end, when he’s caused so much grief to seijoh in prefectural qualifiers, when he’s played against the world’s best in a foreign  country. still, he goes to congratulate the other team for a game well-played, and then joins his team’s group huddle, smiling softly.

he’s got a kind of fire in him that warms your heart too.

it makes you think, in a moment of insanity, that maybe you should go and talk to him. reconnect. after all, he’s someone you think you’d life to have in your life.

but you won’t. he’s in a league of his own, and out of yours.

you focus instead on the jackals’ celebratory cheers, and cheer along with the other fans. bokuto has somehow managed to lift a protesting sakusa onto his shoulders, and atsumu and hinata… are nowhere to be found. that’s strange, considering they’re the ones who get the metaphorical victory lap up and running.

“- yeah, right this way, tobio-kun, she’s waiting for you up in the stands -”

“hurry up, bakayama, it’s rude to keep a girl waiting!”

with a jolt, you whip your head around, and you can’t tell if this is your lifelong dream or your worst nightmare come to life, but - 

it’s tobio kageyama, standing in front of you. flanked by two very pleased-looking msby black jackals members.

“thank us when you’re married and living in the suburbs with two beautiful kids!” atsumu yells, already fleeing the scene with a giggling hinata.

you turn to face kageyama, wishing you could disappear from under his piercing gaze.

“uh, hi. sorry about them - they’re just messing with you. you probably don’t remember me, so -” you turn to leave. “i’ll just… go. great match, by the way! you did amazing.”

but he stops you, strong hand encircling your wrist, and you think you’re going to combust on the spot. he quickly removes his hand - though the tingling sensation remains, still - and scratches his head, averting his eyes. 

you stare up at him, and find he’s even more beautiful up close.

“i remember you,” he says finally, his hand coming down to rest by his thigh. “from middle school. we were classmates.”

“yeah,” you murmur, more than a little surprised. “i saw you training in the gym a lot.”

“and you became aoba johsai’s manager, too. you were a good manager to them,” he says plainly. 

it makes you smile. “thanks. i watched your olympic matches, and you absolutely killed it.”

he looks confused for a second. “i don’t remember killing anyone -”

“it’s a, uh. figure of speech,” you explain quickly. “what i mean to say is, you were - are! - really, really good. you’ve come a long way.”

he says your name then, and you find you like the way it sounds on his tongue, even if you didn’t know he knew it. "i'm sorry. i never had the courage to say anything to you back in middle school or high school. i was worried you might not even know who i was."

"are you kidding?" you laugh. "you're tobio kageyama."

he flushes slightly in a way you think is really, really cute.

"so... how do you feel about getting some coffee after this? i'll pack my stuff up, take a quick shower."

he might be a grown man now, but underneath lies the same nervous middle schooler you once knew. you're nervous too, and it makes you want to take you up on his offer.

and so you do.

you smile over at his departing form, and feel a familiar stirring sensation - the one that comes with a win.

haikyuu masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[bwat5-blog]

Vi and Jinx: Listen To Jinx

**Spoilers For All of Arcane**

The relationship between Vi and Jinx is one of most important parts of this story. It is immensely complex, tragic and heartwarming, the tale of these sisters as they fight to find their way back to one another over the course of this story is truly incredible. I have personally written a full analyses on their story, as have several others. This, is not that. Put simply, if I see one more "Vi got what she deserved" post regarding Vi getting hit by Caitlyn, or her running from Jinx's bombs, or whichever example people want to misinterpret to prove their point, I am going to lose it.

So! What this is, is a hard and fast list of some statements regarding the two of them that will likely ruffle some feathers. I would hope anyone reading my writing by now knows I love both of these characters, and understand the nuance in these situations. But people need some serious perspective. These events will be leading up to season 2, act 3, because at that point they are pretty much on the same page.

**There is nuance and deeper meaning in each of these situations. There are many more things each character does both good, and bad. Neither of them are perfect. But sometimes boiling things down is how we get to the crux of the issue**

Season 1: Act 1

There is not a single shred of evidence Vi was anything other than loving and supportive sister before the night of Vander's death.

Vi was completely correct in leaving Powder behind for the mission.

Vi did not make Jinx. An otherwise loving older sister losing control during a single traumatic event did not completely warp her little sisters mental health. Now seven years as the daughter of a violent drug lord however?

Vi "left" Powder because she was kidnapped as a minor and thrown into a violent and abusive prison without cause for seven years.

From everything we were shown, if Powder had listened their family would have made it out.

Season 1: Act 2

Jinx murders 4 firelights, 1 who she thought was Vi, and six enforcers all in 1 episode.

Jinx is a loving daughter to the man who tried to (and mostly succeeded) kill her entire family and took her for his own.

Jinx puts her gatling gun under Vi's chin during their first reunion.

Vi is stabbed, beaten and chased all in her attempt to get to Jinx.

During their reunion, Vi immediately embraces Jinx, tells her whatever she had to do was for survival, tries to take responsibility for what happened, and fights back to back with her.

Season 1: Act 3

Jinx kills several enforcers and Marcus on bridge

Jinx actively tries to kill Caitlyn and Vi both

Jinx almost kills both herself and Ekko

Jinx abducts Caitlyn naked from her bathroom, makes her put on her enforcer uniform, ties her and gags her with a smiling mask so she can try and convince Vi to kill her

Jinx brutally knocks out Caitlyn

Jinx kills Silco

Jinx murders 3 Piltover counselors including Caitlyn's mom in front of her

Vi insists she can help her sister before the bridge attack

Vi is going back to the undercity to find Jinx before the bombs go off on the bridge

Vi completely blames herself for what her sister has become when they are in Caitlyn's room.

Vi refuses to kill Caitlyn, but tries to get Jinx to come away with her so they can be family again.

Season 2: Act 1

Jinx expresses knowing she could die at any time as "best feeling in the world'

Jinx declare intent to kill Vi

Jinx intentionally lures Cait and Vi into ventilation chamber for battle

jinx encourages Vi to kill her when time comes

Jinx is the only reason Isha is in danger to begin with. She had no business being here.

Vi joines enforcer taskforce: Hunting Shimmer, Chem Barrons, and Jinx

Vi stops fighting when Jinx says she is ready to die.

Vi stops Caitlyn from hurting Isha

Season 2: Act 2

Jinx knew Vi was in the pits, and came to see her at least twice before finally coming to her over Vander. Made no move that audience is shown to help despite obvious decline

Jinx was hiding during entire occupation. She "busted half of Zaun out of Stillwater" because of Isha. Not her people.

Jinx being the symbol on the painting with Vander is laughable. She is known as the daughter of the man who killed Vander and the rest of his kids.

Jinx tells Isha last time she and Vi fought she kicked Vi's ass. Jinx was on her back wanting to die.

JINX IS THE REASON ISHA IS IN DANGER. SHE HAD NO BUSINESS BEING HERE. (Vander hunt and commune both)

Vi comes with Jinx after literally everything above

Vi saves Isha from Vander

Vi trusts Jinx and lowers her gloves.

Vi throws her body over Jinx's to protect her from explosion

In the end, the sisters have found each-other again and accepted who they have become. They are both flawed, they both mistakes,and their story is incredibly moving. Because ultimately their love for eachother perseveres even when it seems like they have totally lost one another.

So why did I do all of this? Because regardless of circumstance, of nuance, of deeper meaning, when you boil it all down Vi is a loving and protective older sister who goes about a million miles past reasonable trying to help her little sister, more than a few times to her own detriment. And guess what? Jinx knows that. She specifically tells Vi to start living for herself and stop feeling guilty over being happy, and being loved. And her last action (as far as we know) in the world of the living, is to save Vi's life. Seems like she knew what an amazing sister Vi always was. Maybe some of yall should listen to her.

[anxietycheesecake]

There's something so "performative" about the finale, not sure how to articulate it. I mean, it's been like that for a while, but there were still sincere moments every now and then (probably from the cast putting all their actussy into it). It wanted to make a statement so bad, regardless of whether you think they were mocking us or not. "I'm not a normal sitcom, I'm a cool sitcom, like Seinfield. I don't fit in and I don't want to fit in. Have you ever seen my characters evolve? Oh... Oh... No, you haven't! I artificially took that back every single time! That's cool."

They wanted to remove the sense of a plot and a purpose that season 3 and partially season 4 gave it so hard it's like they couldn't think of anything else. It's funny because it's pointless and unsatisfying, even though we have managed to balance raunchy comedy and emotional scenes just fine before. It's easier this way and it get us Reddit praise. But here's the thing, it wasn't even that funny. Season 1 was just sitcom shenanigans and dark comedy and it was hilarious. Like, when was the last time you physically bent over in laughter while watching this show and are you sure it wasn't because the actors were making a funny voice or a funny face that absolutely wasn't scripted?

But I mean, all that aside, I think it's just cringe. It's giving "how you doing, fellow kids?" It's overdone and so eager to be disruptive it ends up being anticlimatic. "That's the point! We were trying to be anticlimatic!" Ok, bro, you're either a shit writer because you couldn't come up with an actual conclusion or because you genuinely thought that'd make good tv.

Comparing wwdits to Seinfield is like when wannabe great American novelist says he's writing the next Great Gatsby. No you're not. And I don't mean this as "wwdits isn't worth shit compared to actual high art sitcoms such as Seinfield" (I actually liked it better when it wasn't trying to become Seinfield); it's just... There's already a Seinfield. And there was already a wwdits that had found its footing and its voice and was doing a near perfect balancing act between comedy and drama, while keeping it humor-focused at all times. Your story is yours but when my book was starting to sound a lot like The Girls by Emma Cline minus the ABSOLUTE LITERATURE of it (arguably the best thing about The Girls), my mom was like "this not you, girl, what are you doing?" And that was MY MOM, not some random people on the Internet who are a small portion of the people who put food on my table (hopefully, heh -pay writers better, bitches >:(-). Like, dude, you're in your 40s, how can you be this petty?

At the end of the day, it was just petty. It read like fanfiction a troll would write. And they can try to gaslight us into buying it was actually such a smart move and amazing writing, but we know the truth. "We've thought about six possible endings for Guillermo's arc and haven't decided on one", "We kind of just come up with things that might be funny and work them into an episode"; things being said about a show one its fourth and fifth season. Absolutely valid, of course, but you can just admit you bit more than you could chew and wanted an easy way out. We get it, it's your job, do whatever you need to get that (far too small) paycheck, but don't put a "subversive" label on it and call it a perfect ending.

And if you're so willing to disrespect your fanbase or convince them they were watching a completely different show mere three years ago, for fuck's sake, commit to the bit and at least make it entertaining. Characters just spelling out things that are going to annoy the fans or prove to them it was silly to care about the shit and fart show for half and hour? THREE TIMES? Dude, you can be more subtle, media litecary's been dead for a while now. It's not unfunny in the sense that it's offensive; rather it was offensive how deeply unfunny it was. How can you manage to be this dishonest while doing everything in your power to make yourself seem even more dishonest??? smh

[mermaidchansons]

Divine Indeed: Part Three

Neighbor!Terry Richmond x Divine Wells (black OC)

Story Summary: Divine Wells, a 31-year-old seamstress, deals with waves of change after she picks up her life and moves to San Diego for a new job. She thought she’d finally found peace in her new normal; until Oshun decided to push her path to collide with her fine ass neighbor, Terry Richmond.

Words: 2100+

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ minors do NOT engage (you’ll be blocked), mommy issues, tism is tisming real bad, cannabis usage

Series Playlist

Author’s Note: Woah, can’t believe we’re already on part three! I hope y’all catch my ‘roll credits!’ moment lmao. I wanna know, does anyone relate to Divine? Also, would you be able to resist Terry’s charm? Lemmie know <3 - Ashanti

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Part Three

If Divine had to hand stitch another bead on a corseted gown, she was going to scream. She never thought an article of clothing would make her wish Olorun had created her. This one was a rush job, custom ordered by some famous artist’s team. Every day for the past two weeks, her workspace was a mess; seas of blue, silver, and green beads bestrewed it and found their way into her apartment. Divine would undress for bed every night and the clang of beads would hit her floor, rolling to god knows where. Sometimes sending a sharp pain through her foot when she happened to stumble upon them. I love my job, I love my job, I love my job. And she did love her job. Her backbreaking, finger-numbing job that she had manifested and waited for. She remembered laying on her parent’s living room floor, spinning tales of her dream job to her twin Seraphim. She just needed a small break from it. Thank goddess for a holiday weekend, maybe she’d get some feeling back in her hands.

S: So I guess no Breath of The Wild tonight?

Divine let out an exaggerated sigh and pulled her sleep shirt over her head. Friday nights were Switch nights for the Wells siblings. Pajamas, the $5.99 mix-and-match deal from the local pizzeria, and pre-rolls. Now, a new job and 652 miles later, they partied virtually. But it wasn’t the same for Divine. She didn’t miss her town, but she missed her sibling. Her twin never failed to make her smile. 

D: I’m sorry, Ser. They’ve been riding me to finish that project and I need sleep before I DIY death

S: You’re so valid, sib. Oh, heads up, mom says to call her

D: Ugh, don’t even start, I’m bout to knock out

S: Here’s a meme for your consolation *sends meme*

[a photo of an aurora borealis sky with a dragon leaning into frame and text that says ‘your man wouldn’t even fill a lesser soul gem’]

Divine chuckled tiredly, and rolled over into position: one leg up with her knee uncovered to offset the heat. Her eyes started to flutter closed when her phone buzzed. 

S: On some real shit though, you need to call her. I can’t keep playing the middleman

It had been three weeks, two days, and 5 hours since she last spoke to her mom. Her subconscious kept counting ever since she raised her voice at her mother for the first time in twenty-nine years. It was a day where a particular form of sadness clung to Divine and refused to leave; an unwanted host, sucking the serotonin out of her with a crazy straw. Baby Divine had always been regarded as moody or possessing an attitude by the adults around. But when the ‘big sad’ hit, there was nothing she could do to fix it. So she dared to feel her feelings and was honest when her mom asked how she was doing. 

She didn’t know if she wanted to vent or scream or cry. She just wanted to be comforted, to be told that everything was going to be okay. Looking back on it, Divine squirmed in bed, the slimy feeling of regret coating her mouth. She knew her mother was solution based. She knew her mother could not offer what she needed. She knew. And yet, she still tried to penetrate the wall that shrouded her mother’s understanding. A small part of her hoped that maybe this would be the time when she would be surprised by the response. Divine felt the small light of hope in her chest go out as soon as the words left her mother’s mouth. 

‘Did you use your tools?’ 

‘Have you asked the Orisha’s for guidance?’ 

‘You can’t keep letting these things devastate you’

‘You can’t let one thing dictate your entire day’

‘Stop being so dramatic’

Divine left the call breathless and broken, cutting her fingers on the pieces as she tried to pull herself back together. She was angry. Partly at her mother but mostly at herself. How could she be so childish to think that her mother would offer her the comfort that she searched for? As if her mother was capable of change; as if she hadn’t had similar conversations with her mother every time the unsolicited host reared its ugly head. She didn’t even remember what she screamed before hanging up suddenly. 

Sera was right and she knew it. She’d have to speak to her eventually. She hated it when her twin was right. Squeezing her eyes shut, Divine turned away from the phone to smoosh her face against her brightly patterned pillow. That was a problem for future Divine. She laid her hand against her protruding tummy and focused on her breathing. A trick a counselor had taught her in middle school that carried her for the last 16 years. Sucking in a deep breath, holding for four seconds, and breathing out for another four; her mind and all its worries drifted away. 

In the swirl of darkness, Divine felt scans of heat travel up her legs. Wet sounds of her arousal sounded in her ears, tightening her stomach as thick lips wrapped around her hardened bead. She stifled a moan while reaching out desperately. The sensation was building steadily, determined to tear her apart. A large calloused hand wrapped around hers and placed it atop waves of hair. Finally finding the strength to open her eyes, she leaned up to see the man who was so intent on pleasuring her. He was massive against her 5’2 frame. His shoulder blades rolled under his caramel tinted skin as he pushed her right thigh as far back as it would go. The new angle revealed more of his face. Divine caught sight of a dark, neat eyebrow before the man pushed two fingers into her dewy entrance. 

The steady pace of his fingers moving in and out of her tightened the coil in her abdomen, a guttural moan escaping her throat and betraying her. She’d never heard these noises come out of her mouth before. What was he doing to her? The man moaned against her sex in approval, speeding up his pace. Divine threw her head back in ecstasy, shutting her eyes once more to chase the orgasm she knew she needed. Her heart pounded as the tips of her ears set ablaze and the coil snapped. Her body seized up as she came, her hardened bead twitching discordantly against his tongue. He pulled his fingers out of her slowly, eliciting a deep hum from his lips. When Divine blinked away her tears, she was shocked to see a naked Terry of Level 5. Those same stormy ocean eyes staring directly into her soul, making her want to come all over again. Her mouth dropped as she watched him suck the evidence of her arousal off of his fingers. 

“Just like I thought you would taste. Divine, indeed.”

For a moment everything went black and Divine shot out of bed, thunder booming in her ears. She looked around the dark room before patting wildly and picking up her phone. 

6:00 AM

Missed Call from The Momster Mash 38 min. ago

Groaning, Divine covered her face with her Gajeel body pillow. She’d never felt so embarrassed. Terry was so kind the last time they saw each other and she couldn’t help but wonder what his lips tasted like while he talked. One conversation and he had invaded her mind. After giving herself a good talking to, she had nipped that kind of thinking in the bud; even going so far as to avoid him completely. She’d felt the chill of possibility creep up her spine when his thick lips parted into a smile. The weakness in her knees was a warning she knew to heed. So she swore off thinking about his piercing eyes and his wide biceps for good. Or, she at least thought she had. Her eyes darted to her ancestor table, then to her nightstand where Terry’s business card had been lying untouched for the past four weeks. The cold wet spot beneath her gave her pause and she looked out at the rain hitting her window with pleading eyes. 

“Oshun, please. Please leave me be. Please stop.” 

She definitely couldn’t text him now.

7:00 PM

Quack! Quack! Quack! 

Divine jumped at the sound of her alarm, scuttering to turn it off while never taking her eyes off the computer. Too many hours had passed since she started crocheting a cardigan after breakfast, or what Divine would consider to be breakfast: a piece of toast and a sweet potato latte from her new favorite coffee shop. The two items may have satisfied her mind, but her stomach thought otherwise. It wasn’t that Divine didn’t like food, it was just eating. The process of it. Having to sit down and dedicate the time to chew and drink and chew; it was an exercise in patience that she didn’t have. Food regret was also too much of a risk, so comfort food items were often exhausted. To the point where food began to taste bland and feel like a waste of time.

A loud and low grumble erupted from her tummy beneath her blankets. Pausing the gaming marathon, she scrunched up her face at the sound. She only had one sleeve left. Certainly, her stomach could wait for another hour or two- Grumbleeee. Groaning loudly, she threw her head back in defeat before rolling her chair back. She stretched her arms and legs as far as they could go, eliciting a symphony of pops and cracks from different body parts. Beelining into the bedroom closet, she hastily changed into something comfy and cute. She may not always like the task of eating, but she desperately needed an enchilada before her stomach made it known to the entire apartment complex that she was starving herself for a crochet project. 

Ordering a car in record time, Divine stood before her small altar with her hand on her chest. She closed her eyes tight and prayed to the ancestors and Orishas for peace of mind, a safe drive over, and to be treated with compassion. Going to a restaurant alone wasn’t a new thing for her, but having to go outside and deal with people was its own beast. Her phone alerted her that her driver was only two minutes away. Should she take her yarn with her? No, she’s already taking her switch and a journal. How many side quests did one person need for a dinner? Divine hesitated with her hand on the doorknob, before turning on her heels to go back to her messy craft table. She grabbed the half-unraveled ball of yarn and shoved it into her tote before walking out without another thought. 

Friday nights were a risky time to go out for dinner. Traffic downtown was already bad, but walking traffic was even worse. Couples and 21-year-olds filled the walkways, chatting so loud you could hear their conversation from around the corner. Divine had never been more happy to be a solo diner. No 45-minute wait or being seated in the middle of a bustling restaurant. She could grab a seat at the bar, order food from the bartender, and watch Black Lightening in peace. Simple as that; as long as this security line continues to move. 

The line was zooming past. But time seemed to slow the closer the stranger behind her got. She could practically feel his breath against her neck as the gap between them disappeared. Looking out of the corner of her eye, she watched the snooty-looking man teeter to the side impatiently; sneering at her before yelling at the person ahead to ‘speed up, bro’. He was bouncing up and down while clutching his girlfriend’s hand like a child. Her patience was thinning but there was only one person left in front of her. Divine turned the music up in her headphones to drown out his nasal voice. Inching up, she tried her best to keep a respectable gap between them while she fished out her ID. If he got any closer, she was going to give up on the entire crusade and go home hungry. 

A sprinkle of rain tapped against her face, making her look down and watch the feet in front of her enter the restaurant. Relief washed over her as she approached the door and handed over her info.

“Look who it is.”

Thanks For Reading!

@babybluepeaches @muse-of-mbaku @melaninmarvel @naturallyqueenie @howtoshuckatlife @goldieccentric @archivistofwakanda @alexundefined @minyara-kun @destinio1 @raysunshine78 @madamslayyy @notdsg @ghostfacekill-monger @soufcakmistress @greennightspider @bitchacho25 @jordanhelah @puremolasses @ajspencer1892 @monochrome-pineapple @psuedo4 @bubblyqueen @chaneajoyyy @blowmymbackout @tchallasbabymama @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @jvzmine19 @ashanti-notthesinger