#stubbornnes? got it

[caramelcuppaccino]

where do i apply to become a dwarf in the middle earth

[avenging-fandoms]

john b literally does it for me.

wanna fuck him in the back of the twinkie NOT EVEN SORRY BOUT IT.

**yeah it's a situationship. complicated. seems like jombie **and yes i make him beg. *smut and angst cause i LOVE writing angst

--

"John B Routledge!" you bang on his screen door. "You owe me a beach day!" You shout and bang on it some more until a very aggravated John B opened the door. You opened the screen door and smile at your friend. "Morning sunshine, you owe me a beach day.”

"I don't owe you shit, Yn."

"You don't?" You cross your arms, looking at him. "I covered for your ass when Sarah asked where you were. Said you were out somewhere with your dad when you were hiding in my room from her." Your fingers tap his chest. "I lied to your girlfriend, so you promised me a beach day."

John B sighed. "Ex, she cheated. With Topper. And fine, give me 10 minutes." You clap and lay on his couch, closing your eyes as you listen to him rustle around. "Alright, let's go, brat."

"Brat. This brat helped you out." John B pushed your head and you both hop into the twinkie. John B drove to your favorite beach in the Outer Banks, far from where anyone could find you two.

You set out your blanket and towel, John B coming over with the bag and cooler. You take off your shirt and shorts, catching John B staring for too long. "Can you help me put the sunscreen on, JB?"

"Uh, yeah, of course." He took the bottle and moved your hair, massaging the lotion into your back. He moved down and covered your ass and down your thighs, and you had to bite your knuckle. He just broke up with his girlfriend 2 days ago, but you couldn't help but want him. You had him first.

You and John B were friends who later added the 'with benefits' part. It went on for months, no strings attached. He then stopped hanging out with you altogether when he started dating Sarah, then came back around when they were serious.

You turn around and face him, John B rubbing lotion into his hands and smoothing over your chest, hesitant on covering your boobs. "Nothing you have touched before, JB." His cheeks turned red as he put sunscreen all over your front.

"My turn." He took off his shirt and you bite your lip softly, putting lotion over his chest and v-line. He gasped softly and you turn him around. You rub it into his back, scratching down his skin, knowing it drove him crazy.

"Alright, I think I'lm going to swim for a bit, clear my head." You nod and play music on your phone, laying in the sun with your eyes closed. John B was gone for more than an hour, and came back pruny and dripping wet.

"Good swim?"

"So good, I thought of literally everything I could think of." John B laid next to you and closed his eyes, and you watched the water droplets slide down and off his body. You bit your lip and flipped onto your stomach, groaning. "Takes too much to suntan?"

"No, asshat. My shoulders and back are killing me." You huff and lay your cheek on your hand, John B sitting up and sitting with his wet trunks on your thighs. "Ah, JB it's cold!" You laugh and he smiles.

"Just relax, are there knots in your shoulder and back?" You nod and he presses his thumbs into your shoulders, massaging out the first knot he found and you moan rather loudly. "Haven't heard that in a while." He mumbled softly, but you still heard him. You did it purposely now, knowing he liked it. And John B purposefully found tough knots just to hear you moan.

After he got off you sat up and rolled out your shoulders, a smile on your face. "JJ's couldn't get them out. He was so rough I told him to never touch me again." John B laughs and stands up, holding out his hand. "I'm not going in the water, you're crazy."

"Why not? Why come to the beach then?" He asks and looks at you, his hair still damp in his face. You studied him. His head blocked the sun, his hands on his hips which pushed his shorts down a bit, giving you a good eye level shot of his v-line.

You protested. John B rolled his eyes at your stubbornness, grabbing your waist and throwing you over his shoulder. You laugh and hit his back as his right hand held onto the back of your thighs. "Hold your breath!" He yelled as he jumped into the water with you.

The two of you spent some time in the water, floating and talking. "Do you want Sarah back?" John B stayed silent. "The girl cheated and you still want her?"

"Can you blame me, Yn? I've been in love with this girl for so long. We've been through so much, I don't want to give up on her. It'll take time but I know I'll forgive her."

"Right." You nod and swim to shore, pushing your hair behind your back and squeezing the water out, drying your body and hair.

"Yn, where are you going? Why are you mad at what I said?" John B's hands were in front of him, and he was utterly confused as you angrily shoved your blanket and towel into your bag.

"What about me, John B?"

Finally. 5 years of being in love with John B and 3 years of Sarah Cameron and on-and-off fucking around, you finally asked it.

"What about all the things we've been through together? How we used to spend every night with each other? Hell, even have sex when you and Sarah were done! I don't know why I even try. You still want the broad after cheating." You pulled on your shorts, leaving your shirt off. "Thanks for the beach day, I'll find another ride home." You start to walk past the Twinkie but John B catches up to you.

"Yn, stop being an idiot." You drop the bag and look at him, his hand holding your face. "Did you really think I would come here with you just as friends? The way I wanted to keep touching you." His fingers fell to your bathing suit top, breath hitting yours as he pushed the strap off your shoulders. "You were poison, Yn Yln. You're intoxicating. I need you."

You slide open the door, sitting on the cushion and he climbs in after you like a lost puppy and you slam the door. You push your hips forward, John B on his knees as he looked at you desperately. "Tell me."

"Tell you.. what?"

You lean forward, the other strap falling and John B got a perfect view of your chest. "Tell me how bad you need me."

"Fuck, Yn, I think of you every fucking day. Your body, the way you sound." His hands touch your knees, pushing up towards your shorts. "I need to taste you, God I remember you tasting so sweet." Your eyes got heavy as he pulled your shorts off. You put your heel on the seat, John B untying the knot on your hips and taking off your bottoms.

"Anything you want, John B." You cursed yourself for letting yourself fall for him again, but how could you not? John B leaned forward with his eyes trained on yours, tongue flicking against your clit slowly as you let out soft whimpers.

"Go ahead, tell me how bad you need more." John B taunted and you look at him, and he looked at you with a devilish grin. His fingers rub up and down your folds, waiting for your words.

"Fuck, John B. Eat me like your last fucking meal. Fuck me like you're dying tomorrow, I don't care what you do. I need you." You grab his face and kiss him, a satisfied hum coming from his mouth against yours. John B slides his fingers inside and you gasp against his mouth, gripping his hair.

You moan into his mouth as he picks up his pace, hand around your neck as he pushes your head back, laying you down on the seat and fucking you with his fingers the fastest he could. "John B!" You exclaim and he pulls away with a smile. "You dickhead."

"You know how I like to make you cum, and it's not like that." You sat up and switched positions with John B, pulling his shorts down before he could sit down. You toss them behind you and drool at the sight of his leaky cock.

"Missed me, JB?" You smirk and kitten lick the tip, taking him into your mouth. John B let out a little whimper as you push him down your throat.

"Good girl, take all of me. Fuck yes, you're so good." He huffed and leaned forward, untying your top and throwing it with the pile of clothes. His left hand held your hair as the other one toyed with your nipple. You gag on him and he lets outa breath, laughing as he grabbed your chin and pulled you up, grinning as you gasp for air.

"You did miss me."

"Oh, I missed hearing you gag on my dick." He hums and kisses you, pulling you onto his lap. You grab his cock and his hand grips the back of your head, pushing your head down. "Watch, baby. Watch me fill you up."

You sit down on him, gasping at the foreign feeling. You held his face, moving your hips and John B moans against your mouth. "You feel so good, Yn. Fuck."

John B laid you on the seat, thrusting his hips into you and wrapping his hand around your throat. "Fuck, you are perfect." His hands fall down your front, thumb rubbing your clit. You grab his biceps and gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Already, sweetheart? We're just getting started." you whimper his name and dig your nails into his skin. "Come on, baby. Let me hear those pretty moans."

"Fuck, John B! Shit!" Your legs shook around his body, John B still moving his hips.

"Fuck I love hearing you scream my name." John B got off of you and you bend over the cushion, his hand spanking you a few times roughly. He pushed himself into you, holding onto the seat above your head as he slammed into you.

John B grabbed your hair in his fist and you look at him. "JJ fucks so much better." You moan and he laughs.

"Sarah rides better." You pull away from him and push him onto the seat again, sliding down on him and bouncing your hips. John B's hand smoothed up your stomach and twisted your nipple in his fingers.

You lean forward and bite his neck, his breath getting choppy. You bit harder and sat up, kissing him lazily as his hands hold your back. "You gonna cum for me, John B? You gonna fill me up like old times?"

"Holy.. God.. damn it." John B pressed you down against him and you whimper, shivering as he pumps his cum into you. He bounced you on top of him, rubbing your clit and you fist his hair, hips shaking as you cum around him. "I will never get tired of watching you cum." He let out a small laugh and kissed your sweaty chest, your fingers combing through his hair.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, wanna meet me at the snack shack?" You get off of him and he nods, John B helping you tie your top. You tie the strings at your hips and throw his button up over your body.

"That's my shirt." You open the door and slide your shoes on.

"I thought you liked me in your clothes?" You wink and head to the bathroom. You fix your hair and check your phone, hearing your voice being called. You look behind you thinking it was John B, but you look to the left and it was someone much worse.

Sarah fucking Cameron.

There you stood. Just-had-sex hair, John B's shirt, sweat, scratches and bite marks. She wasn't stupid, you knew she'd notice right away.

"Yn, hi!" She hugs you and you pat her back, putting on your best smile. "How are you?"

Her eyes scan your body and you grew nervous. You saw John B walking towards you and you try to signal that it was Sarah. "Uh, I'm uh.. alright. Just trying to.. enjoy my summer."

Sarah wasn't stupid. She looked behind her and John B ducked behind a trash can. "John B?"

He stood up slowly and you backed up from her, closer to John B. She put it together. His shirt on you, the marks on his neck. "Sarah."

"Didn't take you long to move on, John B" she crossed your arms and you laugh. "Something funny?"

"How are you gonna get mad at him for fucking someone else when you cheated on him? It's your fault." Sarah's face turned red and John B's hand rubbed your back.

"We were together when you got with Topper. I'm single getting with Yn. There's a difference. See you around, Sarah." You two walk past her and you poke him.

"I still have to use the bathroom, JB."

"Okay, I'll be the bodyguard to make sure she doesn't try anything in the bathroom."

"You act like I haven't kicked her ass before."

[yuurei20]

From Twst the second novel: Riddle and Jack (pt2/4)

"The look on Deuce’s face seems to say, 'Now you bring this up, after all of that?’

‘I was wrong about you, Jack. You followed us this far, and now you’re gonna chicken out?’

Deuce is upset, but Jack dismisses him coldly with, ‘I was never gonna join your little team,’ and looks to Cater and Riddle. ‘Just thought I’d explain what happened yesterday, and apologize. I’ve done that. I won’t be getting overly familiar.’

‘Man, you are such a pain,’ Ace spits out his words, now more annoyed that he is surprised. ‘Every time we come up with something, you gotta go against it—and for what? How important can settling those issues be? Or can you just not calm down and think straight for once.'

‘I am calm. And I don’t need any help from you all.’

‘Is that so. As if I ever wanted help from you!’

‘Ace-chan, Deuce-chan, let’s leave things alone. This isn’t the time for fighting.’ Cater attempts to mediate, but the atmosphere remains tense.

When Deuce speaks out in support of Ace Jack argues right back, and Grim begins to growl.

Yuuya looks to Riddle, expecting him to intervene, but it is clear by the look on his face that Riddle is not impressed by Jack’s attitude. He strongly dislikes rude people.

'It is inappropriate to take such a temperament with upperclassmen.’

Growing increasingly annoyed Jack opens his mouth to retort, but Yuuya speaks up first, in a hurry. ‘Even so, Jack-kun, I don’t think there really is anything you can do by yourself.’

Jack’s eyes widen for just a moment, only to immediate narrow once more. ‘What did you say to me? I can’t do anything by myself?’

’S-sorry—that came out wrong.’ Yuuya pulls back, licking his lips. ‘I just thought that, since one person alone wasn’t enough to stop the incidents yet, just trying it again might not change very much.’

Jack seems to swallow whatever words he was on the brink of saying.

‘Until we got help from Riddle-senpai and the others, I’d had no idea what Grim and I were supposed to do on our own…I might understand how you feel, a little bit.’

No matter one’s capabilities, there will always be limits to how much one can accomplish alone. Most likely, Jack has realized this, too. For the first time, his stubbornnes seems to waver.

‘Pfft. Look, he’s floundering ‘cause you hit the mark.’ Grim prods at Yuuya with a laugh.

Ace and Deuce join in, picking up where Grim has left off."

[stationintern]

party 4 u

this is my favorite charli xcx song, and Harry has always played the leading role in my fantasies while listening to it. pls enjoy this fic. i've included multiple mentions of the duo frou frou as a treat for the girlies (anyone who loves frou frou as much as i do).

“Why is it called a pineapple?” Harry asks, leaning against a kitchen cabinet. The knob is digging into his spine, but he’s too loaded to move, let alone notice. He’s shed his pirate costume on various surfaces over the course of the night, his ruffled shirt the only sign left that he was anything at all in the first place.

Nobody replies, because Hermione– dressed as a fairy– is passed out at the kitchen island, hunched over on one of the barstools with her head cradled in her arms. She has a tendency to overestimate her ability to tell when enough is enough, but always ends up having more fun than any of them.

He never should have had this party, is still not sure what he was expecting to get from all this. Most of the people he invited came in their half-arsed costumes, ate ludicrous amounts of sweets, and got drunker than they’d planned to. Surely, his Halloween party should have been a success, right?

Yet, that was never the goal at all. There was one objective for the night, and it’s nearing three in the morning, still uncompleted. 

Yes, Harry Gatsby’d it. 

Eventually, Hermione is carried out over Ron’s shoulder amid hoarse goodbyes and ‘have a good night’s. Harry and Luna collect the cups, and the sink smells of pineapple and rum, of Draco’s breath after every pub night. They take down the streamers while Imogen Heap sings ‘I have to be somewhere/now where did I put it,” and Harry is reminded of the infinite times he was held sonically hostage to Draco’s Details CD on long drives. 

He feels nauseous, and can’t decide if it’s because of the lack of Draco’s presence, or the way he’d overindulged with every passing hour. He decides it’s because of Draco, because everything is. Draco is the reason he painted his bedroom walls blue, and threw this party in the first place.

Their little friends with benefits situation ended three years ago, and Draco’s moved on. Multiple times. But none of them stick, and with every breakup that spark of hope grows in Harry’s chest. That Draco will come back and finish what they started.

Eventually, Luna leaves too, and Harry’s left with a house devoid of all the things he’d placed in it to lure Draco in like a blonde fish to a Frou Frou CD on a hook. Nearing four, Harry leaves it on, lets the music remind him of better times when he wasn’t drunk, when he wasn’t slowly becoming one with the sofa, when Draco being in his house wasn’t something he had to carefully orchestrate.

It’s begun to rain outside, and he’s drifting off to the pitter-patter when the doorbell rings. The sound is like someone dumping a bucket of ice water on his head, and once again the hope that maybe it could be him overcomes the alcohol, just as it did every time a new guest arrived to the party.

It’s funny, how you can have hope for something and fully believe it to be impossible at the same time. The feeling sits in Harry’s mind after being drilled into him all night. Is it him? No. Is it him? No. Is it–

“You have to stop inviting me to things.”

Draco is wet, soaked– which is ridiculous, since he was always so silly about keeping out of the rain, the precise temperature of his warming charms. He’s in his robe, the same grey one with hairspray crust on the shoulders that Harry liked to scratch at. Underneath the fabric there are freckles from Draco’s bad experience with a tanning booth that he hasn’t bothered to magic away. Harry likes to think it’s because he knew how fond he was of them. He knows that body and the stories behind it. He knows Draco so well it’s sickening.

“What?”

“Just– stop, alright? I can’t keep coming up with excuses the next day.”

He looks like a petulant child– fists at his sides, the crease in his brow, the sheer stubbornness that coats every word.

“I’m sorry?” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be sorry for, and is still reeling from his learned experience being proven wrong so abruptly. 

“I don’t understand why you feel the need to remind me. You- you invite me to your house. You give me… I get a taste of what it’s like to be around you again and then I leave, and I just can’t any more! I can’t come to your parties, your pub nights, your fucking luncheons. You’re cruel, Harry. This is all so…”

Harry reaches out a hand, rests it on Draco’s shoulder, “I’m so confused right now.”

“You’re swaying,” Draco notices.

“I am very drunk.”

“Harry, you don’t have to keep trying to include me in things. I know… I can’t be your friend.”

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

Draco averts his eyes, and seems to realize he’s wet, before pushing his way into Harry’s foyer and drying himself off with his wand. Harry wishes he wouldn’t, because the sight of him truly affected by the rain is something to behold, something he now realizes he’s been deprived of for so long.

“You know why,” he continues, “You know why, and yet you keep inviting me to things because my friends are your friends and vice versa, but I don’t need to be included in everything, not when you know how much it hurts me.”

“Draco, what the fuck are you on about?”

“What am I supposed to do? Just act normal? I’ve been in love with you for three fucking years, and everybody knows it, and I know you know it, and I’m sick of being embarrassed–”

“Draco,” Harry stops him, a hand pressed to his firm chest. The gesture isn’t needed, but Harry wants to touch him so bad, feel the linen of Draco’s shirt under his fingertips now that he knows that Draco wants it, “You’re stupid.”

If he wasn’t drunk, he would have been much more eloquent, but this is the best he’s got, and as long as Draco stops talking long enough to listen, maybe he can make it through this conversation.

“I only threw this party for you.”

Draco takes two steps back, knocks his hip against a fern, then takes a step forward.

“You threw…” Draco looks around the room, now devoid of all its decorations, and Harry hopes he can imagine them in his mind. Imagine a room full of people they love, drinking something he likes, eating his favourite candy, listening to his favourite music, and understand that Harry has always been trying to show, unsure if he was allowed to tell, “What are you saying?”

“I Gatsby’d it,” Harry replies, because Luna said that’s what he was doing, and the phrase has been stuck in his head all night.

“You Gatsby’d it,” Draco deadpans.

“I threw an entire party and filled it with things I know you like, just because I wanted you to show up,” Harry admits, “I had rum rollovers and Frou Frou and I dressed up as a pirate because I know you love men in frilly shirts, because I wanted you to walk in and notice.”

It’s definitely odd saying it out loud, but Draco just showed up at his doorstep and professed his love for him, so Harry feels free to say his truth.

“And I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I’m seven hours late.”

“Very fashionable.”

“Sorry about that,” Draco scratches that spot behind his ear, where he’s always thought about getting a tattoo. Harry remembers how it tastes, “So…”

“I love you too, by the way,” Harry blurts, “You said you were in love with me and I called you stupid and–”

Draco reaches for him, and Harry is both expecting it and caught off guard when they kiss– quick and painless and just as sweet as he remembers.

“You threw a party for me,” Draco murmurs.

“Everything I do is for you,” Harry replies, and Draco kisses him again, and again, until he finally manages to pull away from his lips, “I mean, not brushing my teeth or whatever. Like, the pub nights and the dinner parties. Those were all for you.”

“For me.”

“For you.”

“Why didn’t you just–” Draco starts, and Harry knows why he didn’t just, but he’s still too muddled to explain all that.

“I have a lot of problems,” he says instead.

Draco laughs, and Harry’s so glad that it’s finally because of him again, and not some brunette at the pub, “Yes, you do.”

They move on to the sofa, trading explanations through the night as Harry’s buzz finally wears off, and Draco admits that he got pretty smashed in his kitchen, unable to bear the idea of refusing the invite. The sun peaks through the curtains in the early hours of the morning, and they begin to doze, twisted around one another. They haven’t spoken for a while, simply rested in the warmth of long-awaited understanding.

But, as Harry finally lets sleep overcome him, he hears a snort and one final whisper.

“You Gatsby’d it…”

if you liked this, feel free to give it some love over on ao3!

[poomphuripan]

how do you feel about the changes from the original source in episode 2? personally i love how much more screentime women get compared to the novel—the brother-sister dynamic they added was such a nice touch and showing more of Ming’s family life early on really humanizes him. i also like that sol’s motivation for rejecting joe is different. it kind of got into gay-for-you terrority sometimes 😭 sorry for the ramble!

okay nonnie so my current verdict is I'M IN LOVE but i'm also wary.

before this series was even out, i had MULTIPLE conversations with different people on managing expectations for a better experience watching my stand-in because any novel reader would know it's NOT an easy novel to adapt considering its source material. you need a fine balance on how to make the scum ml as terrible as the story needs him to be for the emotional payoff to be as satisfying as it did in the novel, while not to make him so terrible that he's irredeemable in the audience's eye (which i'm sure not all novel readers felt yan ming xiu had redeemed himself yet at the end).

watching the first and only trailer, my fears heightened because it definitely has a lot of sweet ming and joe scenes than i expected it to -> the impression i had then was that 'oh no they're going to softening up yan ming xiu and make him less callous towards zhou xiang' -> i told myself alright it's an adaptation, i will be happy if they just get the major PLOT points (as you can see my expectations bar were on the floor because i didn't wanna get my hopes up, that's how much i liked professional body double)

but so far, i think i've been loving the changes in this adaptation because it feels liket the same story but slightly different characterization and pacing.

so first let's talk about yan ming xiu aka ming. as i mentioned my fear of him being softened, i think that fear has gradually dissipated while we ease into ep 2 because i think the series does a GOOD job of recharacterizing yan ming xiu to fit with up poompat.

so a bit of !!!!!novel spoilers warning but not really because im being very vague about it!!!!! but i always felt like yan ming xiu wasn't really well depicted in the novel since the novel is written from zhou xiang's perspective, yan ming xiu is so often to be looked through this rose colored lens of his to the point where i felt like ymx was a rather one dimensional pretty, arrogant, spoiled brat. reading the novel back then, i felt what a lot of average audience is currently asking from the series: SO WHAT DOES ZHOU XIANG SEE IN YAN MING XIU, is his dick that worth it?

but like you mentioned, the series does well in humanizing ming and i would argue that the series has answered the question above better than the novel as joe makes it explicitly clear why he likes ming so bad (bonus is getting ming to hear this as well). with series!ming, we get to see aspects of his family life, the people around him and his general background whereas it took the novel 2/3 of the way for them to start introducing ymx's family to us but not for a very good reason but rather for a cliche subplot which i dislike (that i need the thai adaptation to do something better with this one).

so rather than fearing the 'softening' up of ymx, i feel like this humanization treatment the series is giving ming is a better way of adapting novel!ymx because my stand-in doesn't shy away and unapologetically makes ming a terrible red flag...

... yet simultaneously gives the audience some clues as to why ming is a red flag the way he is and it's not a seemingly inherent callous nature like other 188 novel scum mls. don't get me wrong, he's still a scum ml nonetheless but if you look at ymx's inherent level of maliciousness, it's nowhere near other scum mls written by the same author. and i think what my stand-in does well. because it is making the point 'ming is a terribly mean person but it's the result of his jealousy, his inability to listen to his own feelings and stubbornness, rather than an intentional aim to emotionally deceive joe' across much better than the novel did with just two eps.

so far in terms of changes, i also like how the comedic elements are in here but they're not dominating the tone of this series and balances well out with the drama/angst going on. i guess this can also be credited to the actors/production team because they've always promoted my stand-in as a '120% sweet, 200% bitter romance DRAMA' series so i did not go in with the expectations of so much light hearted moments

it's not to say that there weren't comedic elements in the novel, as the infamous 'and they were both top' scene is an exact adaptation of their first meeting in the novel.

but being an adaptation, not to mention being a thai one nonetheless, my stand-in does well incorporating its way of doing humor into the original work seemlessly. joe's mood swings (affected by ming) were presented PERFECTLY through his three training session with his juniors. i feel like this is the kind of humor that could only be achieved through series/tv format as opposed to novel zhou xiang whose mood swings affected his acting work.

on my beloved sol aka novel lan xi rong, i actually really like that they made him a former stunt actor as well and us getting to see porsche tanathorn doing all this action sequence (yes go yyds, rig your actor some of that screentime). but i thought it was very similar though, the reason for rejecting joe and his realization that joe was the only kind hearted genuine guy he's ever met once he's actually 'been in the industry'. i sure hope they don't characterize sol like how they did novel!lan xi rong 'i'm only gay for you'. give this man his own LOVE INTEREST (i'm actually betting my whole wallet on a brand new yim/sol loveline. i see it happening. it would not be a thai bl without at least one other side bl couple).

all that being said, my only worry is that i feel like they've already adapted so much of the novel within 2 eps and thai bl adaptations have a tendency to diverge greatly from the original source material. so i have worries for the possible new subplots they might add into this series.

tldr: i love my stand-in so much right now as a novel reader but i hate how i can't figure out what they're going to add in future eps ಥ_ಥ

[lathalea]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

Thank you for this ask @middleearthpixie! it's a tricky one so it took me a while to pick five (so many!) fic of my own that I lik the most.

To be honest, my preferences change from time to time, but this is the list I have come up with today:

💎To Home Afar - a Thorin-centric story containing the letters he wrote to his sister, Dis. It follows canon 100%, but contains a sizeable dose of worldbuilding. Tip: bring tissues.

💎Of Buckets and Weddings - this is a very wild and silly story about how Dis, daughter of Thrain, got married, told by a revered (and totally not meddling) Dwarven matron in the Blue Mountains. Bonus: bisexual Thorin.

💎The Tunic - a short story about Fili and a very grumpy seamstress. I really wish I could have time to turn it into a full length multichapter fic and explore these two characters further. 💎 The White Raven - a tale of legends, destiny, duty, and love that conquers all. I tried to keep it as close to the canon as I could and build on what we know of Tolkien's world. I'm writing the final chapter(s) at the moment, but I already know I'm going to miss this story so much. Bonus: Fili gets to... ah, no, I can't say that, it would be a major spoiler. Sorry! ;) And last but not least...

💎 All Is Fair in Love and Trade - if you know me, you shouldn't be surprised. This crazy, extremely passionate, wild, and impulsive relationship between Thorin and a certain Dwarf lady is one of the stories I had the most fun writing. Their battles of will and stubbornnes are living rent-free in my head. That's it! For anyone reading this, hope you'll find something you like here! 💙

[nestasgalpal]

The ball is in his court

Fixing ACOSF Part 8

Masterlist | AO3

Summary:  Cassian knows Nesta is supposed to dance with Eris and lure him into a stronger alliance with the Night Court. He knows he's been forbidden from getting close to her during the whole event. He knows she loves to dance. He knows he wants to be the one swinging with her.

A/N: angst because Cassian got very little character development in the book for someone who had that much family drama to deal with. It's not that big of a change as other chapters, but I thought it made sense to add this here with how these three acted in the ball.

Tagging: @gwynriel @zoyaslai @clolikescloquetas @amelievrstr  @t8astr8ng @wanderlustlastsforever @saltydreamcollector @lordlorcan @esrahiba @queenestarcheron  @jemstan300 @nessiantrashh @azrielsgirl @poisonus-bloom  @loveadora @frosted-crackers  @mireillemystique @pataytayo @968sunflower968 @caram267 @jainadurron @darkshadowqueensrule @amphiptree @finae-bookshelf @niytavia @brainlessfruit @dontgetsalmonella @messyhairday-me @sunsummoner  @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @wannawriteyouabook @psychoticminx @misswonderflower @drielecarla @silvernesta @k0ombayamylord @nina-zcnik​ @arinbelle​

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Cassian stood firmly on his feet as he made Mor spin once again. The House was playing music for them, and in some strange way, he felt it getting annoyed at how many times he had demanded to go- "Again". The waltz had just finished, and he was already positioning himself to start all over.

"Cass, you already know the moves, you've been dancing these for centuries" she laughed it off "I honestly don't think you need any more practice for tomorrow."

"Again" he insisted.

With a sigh, his friend went back to first position, seven feet away from him. The sound the House played for them was more like a trumpet with a shoe stuck in it than the beautiful harmonies they had been practicing with.

"Please, I want to make sure I get it right before we leave for the ball" Cassian gave her his best pout face, which made Mor roll her eyes.

"You are not going to dance with her, Cass. You got clear instructions from Rhys about that. I don't even know why I'm helping you with this, we both heard you are not allowed near her." The House probably felt like Mor was doing a good enough job at remprimanding him for his stubbornnes, because the melody of the waltz started playing again, and they moved to the sound of it. "Gods, you two are already making this way harder than it needs to be with your non-stop fucking" Cassian laughed, but Mor was not in the mood for joking, "This is serious. I heard Rhys complain about how long it took to hide your scent on her." With their palms in the air almost touching, they turned and gave two steps back "Behave." she reminded him of what his role was tomorrow night, and how important it was that he didn't ruin Nesta's mission by approaching her at all.

Cassian smiled again. "I'll try my best".

"Cassian" her tone made clear that she was not amused by the idea of what he may do with with all this dance practice.

"I know, I know. I'll be a good General Commander and stand by my High Lord's side the entire night, while she dances with Eris Vanserra" the lightness with which he spoke did very little to hide the feelings behind it. The jealousy.

Mor let him guide the dance, shadows in her eyes. Their imminent visit to Hewn City must be disturbing her, specially knowing both his father and Eris would be there. The stress of the negotiations with Vallahan was wearing her down as well.

"Why do you insist on going after her?" The sudden dryness she spoke with took him by surprise, and so did the question itself. Nesta and whatever the nature of his relationship with her was, wasn't a topic they ever talked about. For the last couple of years, they avoided the subject, pretending it didn't exist. That's why it felt so odd how mad she seemed to be now without any previous warning that the matter was present in her thoughts at all. That it could disturb her so much, was the most unexpected part of it.

It rubbed him the wrong way, but Cassian kept on moving, the smile in his eyes not fading one bit as he looked into hers to answer.

"Jealous that I'm spending my time with her and not you lately?"

The blonde's gaze pierced through him with a cold disdain he hadn't prepared himself for either. "Not at all. Unlike you, I understand what an order is." Ouch. "I don't blame you for following Rhys' command and babysitting her when he asked you to. She's your job, I guess."

"She is not a job"

"Cassian" His friend hardly ever called his full name. This was now the second time in a matter of minutes.

The conversation was taking a turn he didn't like as a sense of danger that made him on guard sat between them. But it was his best friend talking, his sister, so he ignored his instincts and kept moving to the rhythm. He tried to be graceful and move with precision, imagining it was Nesta's pale hand in his.

"I'm serious. You really need to come back from this recess sooner or later. Better if you choose the former, considering you have a job to do, a role to play as the rest of us do. Her included." The dance required him to spin her twice, an artificial pause in her speech as she twirled on his arms "I'm sure it was fun, but Feyre already revoked the order, so it's time you move on and take things seriously again. You have no idea how bad the treaty with Vallahan is going. We must prepare for the worse, have the armies ready".

"You think being here with her is some kind of vacation?"

The flow of her practiced movements didn't disappear for a second as she dissed Nesta, which was unsettling. Apparently, it came natural to her and putting these thoughts into words required no effort. For how long had Mor been thinking this way about his stay in the House of Wind?

"You sure smell like you are having a good time". Mor gave a step forward to the beat of the orchestra. Cassian didn't follow her movement, their bodies colliding.

It was now making him truly angry. Not just her usual dismiss of Nesta, which he had grown accustomed to, but the little care she was showing for him. He hadn't been working less on Illyria for the past months, his duty with Nesta being piled up on top of his previous responsibilities, and in addition to his new assignments as courtier to cover up her absence. He was working his ass off.

Countless, sleepless nights trying to come up with new ideas to help Nesta weren't something he had told her about, but she certainly knew about the exhaustion they put him through. The fighting, the struggle. Having to finally face how lost she was and stop pretending he had nothing to do with it had been a wake up call. Trying to put the pieces together, a painfully slow process they were still working on. They were achieving it bit by bit... and together, he wanted to think. It had been anything but a vacation.

His biggest regret, however, was printed all over her words, truth slipping through the cracks in the lie he had crafted for himself so long ago. That's why Mor's words hit him like a punch in the guts, because he had actually treated Nesta as a job in the beginning, and Nesta probably had thought the same thing -if she didn't still feel about it like that. A job. Cassian flinched. An order given to him to follow, and not his own decision to sought her and be there for her after the war.

"This is not time off for me, and, again, she is not a job."

Mor wasn't listening, "You need to be honest with yourself, Cass. You need to come to terms with whatever it is your cock feels for that female, and move on."

"You did not just say that" Cassian was speechless.

Knowing what she knows.

Cassian put distance between them and scanned the room looking for a chair, needing to sit down. There was one left alone by the wall where they had pushed it to have more space for their dancing. He sat before he felt his blood drop to his feet, his head uncomfortably light as his sight became dizzy.

Mor hadn't just said that. She would never cross him like that. Denial took over, his trustful self convincing him he just needed a moment to focus. Once he felt better, he would realize her words were only a friend worrying, not an attack on him. She was helping. Mor was always there for him when he needed a friend. She was only trying to give him some advice.

Then why did it hurt so much to hear those twisted truths from her mouth?

"Oh, come on!" she was saying behind him. Mor's words were distant and distorted, as if he were underwater. It took him a moment to understand and process them. "You saw what she became after the war just as clearly as I did. You did nothing about it, just like I did. And we were okay with that, we have our own life, Cass, and she doesn't fit in it. There is another war waiting for us in the corner that threatens to break this moment of happness we've built. For our future, you need to come back to be who you are, the Cassian I know. I miss him."

Once again, the plain truth. He had drifted away like everyone else. They had all decided that space was what she needed, and when that didn't work, it was once again them deciding what to do with the pieces that were left. He had agreed to every plan, convincing himself they knew what they were doing and they knew her better than she did. That they had any right to pick a path for her, the biggest lie of them all.

And now Mor's words were shattering the wall of self-inflicted fabrications he had slowly built while Nesta faded away from his reach. He took in his friend's words, their meaning. What she thought, and some of his friends -family- shared.

It made his heart skip a bit to realize that Nesta probably saw it like that too to this day. He had already accepted his mistakes to himself, he knew before the blonde said it what he had done wrong. Yet Cassian hadn't thought about how his actions were read from the outside. Nobody had called him out on his bullshit. Nobody had interfered -wasn't that what friends were supposed to do? So there it was, the reason why none of them had ever tried to help him smooth things between them: they didn't want him to. Stupidly and blindly trusting his friends would have the respect for him he had proven to have for them, he assumed they were just as blind as he was. Apparently, they weren't, and they had purposefully left her to rot.

Up until now, Cassian hadn't entertained the thought that she most likely didn't let him in because she also considered his presence there a task for him to handle, even if they had grown to be... friends.

That was it -a dead end for them.

No matter how hard he insisted on being there for Nesta now, he had already failed her too many times, and she simply wouldn't allow him to get closer a second time. Not the way he wanted to, at least.

His pulse was in his ears. Or maybe he was hearing again the dreadful noises the house played for them before.

Oh, Nesta.

Had she agreed to the plan because she didn't really care for him watching? Did Nesta not care because she simply didn't want to be anything else than friends in the end? Did she even trust him enough to call what they had a friendship?

A glass of red wine appeared on the table next to him and was it was in his hand a second later. Cassian swallowed its content in one sip. It was refilled instantly. Realization hit him right then and there, that he might be in time to save her, yet too late for what he wanted from her. And his ass would be the only one to blame for that. His cowardice. And how could he hope for a second chance from someone who didn't grant one to herself?

A movement in his field of vision took him out of his trance. Mor, who was carefully approaching him, gave a jump back when he got up from his chair, letting it fall back. The loud noise scared her too.

Those damned reports. He should have never agreed to that stupid idea. Nor to the plan they had for tomorrow night. Yes, she had agreed to it, but maybe if he had asked her not to... No, she would have still done it, convinced it was the only way she would not be seen as a coward.

Who gives a fuck about how anyone sees her. She certainly didn't use to. And he used to love that about her.

But now she clearly did, and was ready to do anything to change how he and his friends saw her. Even seducing Eris Vanserra right in front of him.

"Why can't you just leave her alone?" he asked, defeated at the thought that Nesta was indeed going to allow him to be by her side, but probably where he was right now was the closer he would ever get to tearing down her walls.

Mor looked back at him, marking the way his arms hung by his sides, the picture of a defeated male. She showed no compassion.

"Because I can't forget what she did to Feyre. I still remember the night she told us her story, what she went through. I see her grow every day and I'm reminded of who broke her in the first place. I can't let that slide like nothing." Cassian opened his mouth to say something, not knowing what exactly. He closed it again as Mor lifted a finger to stop whatever words he would have come up with from escaping his mouth. She was angry, "She let her 14 year old sister go wonder the woods next to the Wall all alone. Feyre was a child, Cassian. A kid who had to risk her life on a daily basis because your lover didn't want splinters in her fingernails."

Cassian sighed, tired of a conversation that kept circling back to the same point over and over again. He knew what Nesta's choices had meant to Feyre, but he had seen her regret as well, and what those same choices had done to her. Cassian had seen and heard the forgiveness coming from Feyre herself, her actions a window to what his High Lady needed: to move on. They had talked about it, his friend had opened up to him and she was obviously determined to have her sister back at any cost. And so was him. He was determined to help his friend and at the same time assist Nesta with whatever it was she needed... once she came to terms with what it was.

He had taken her to the old cabin they used to live in and had stand by her side as she scanned the place, finding only bad memories of the person she used to be. She wanted to move on as well. So if the two people involved wanted the same thing, why did their friends keep getting in the way using a wound that was already healing as an excuse.

"But you can forgive Elain?"

"Elain has at least tried to be one of us, Nesta has done nothing since she arrived but be against us."

Cassian laughed at that, a bitter, joyless laugh. "Elain is trying to be our friend, while Nesta doesn't like us. Is that it?" He chuckled again. "Are you telling me that the only reason you pick on her is that she doesn't want to be your friend and you can't just accept that? I thought it was her actions to Feyre in the past, but yes, this makes way more sense now." This time it was him stopping her from talking back, "I can see a pattern there. Isn't that the same reason you don't trust Lucien no matter how hard he works to help us? That he has his own life beyond us?" The volume of his voice went in crescendo as his anger rose to meet hers, "You can't be seriously expecting me to leave her because of a petty fight that only exists in your head."

"It's not just me, Cass. It's all of us. No one likes her, no one wants her around, and we are not having our days ruined every time she shows up so you can fuck her. You are not like this, you are not selfish like that." The indignation simmering in her brown eyes didn't make her an inch scarier to him, the childish reasons for it almost making him consider the argument over, hadn't him been so heated himself. "I want my friend back. And so does Rhys, who can't look at her -or Lucien, for that matter, without being reminded of what his mate went through before he found her."

Cassian snapped.

His siphons glowed scarlet red, goosebumps in his arms from the contained adrenaline rushing through his veins. He screamed at her in anger for the first time in... for the first time in as long as he could remember.

"Don't you dare try to make me feel like I'm a bad friend to Feyre to justify your bigotry. Don't you dare try to convince me that I'm the one hurting others, so I stay in my place while you do whatever the fuck you want and then blame the problems that surface on me. Don't you fucking dare play the victim of this when it's none of your business."

There had been genuine happiness in Feyre's eyes the night Nesta and her decided to give themselves one last chance.

Now Mor was reducing Feyre to nothing but an excuse for her own grudges. She was trying to yield her past suffering as a weapon against her sister, which would make Feyre just as furious as he was. She would never use the damage she experienced to hurt someone she loved, and that was the kind of friend he wanted in his life giving him advice. That was the kind of friend Cassian needed.

He had taken Nesta to the mountains and listened to her cry. He had heard from her mouth how she felt.

Worthless.

She had felt like she didn't deserve to be alive.

And apparently, Mor agreed.

It couldn't be wrong to have sympathy for her. It couldn't be wrong to want her. And he did want her. Cassian wanted everything with her. Was he a bad friend to Feyre for that? How, when his friend wanted the same thing?

"She saved my life twice. She was ready to die with me instead of running away. Does that mean nothing to you?" Above all, what broke Cassian's trust in her wasn't simply her disapproval of Nesta. Rather than that, what Cassian wasn't sure he could forgive was how little care she showed for him. "If you don't like her, that's fine. I don't care, and I can promise you she doesn't either. But don't you dare use Feyre or me as an excuse for it."

"I won't apologize for caring. I won't apologize for protecting my High Lady and my best friend, and the life you really want and deserve".

"At what point exactly did you decide Feyre's happiness was above Nesta's life? Was it after you met her, or had you already ranked your priorities the night Feyre told us about her sisters? Oh, sorry, our priorities, since apparently you know what I want better than I do." Cassian wasn't sure if he would have stopped his ranting right there if he had seen any regret coming from Mor, and he never got to find out. His friend's face was a mask of faked boredom as he spoke. "From all people, I would expect you guys to know what it's like to be perceived by outsiders in a way that's different from who you are as a measure of protection. You simply fail to understand that, for her, we've been the bad guys she has to be wary of since day one. And the reason is precisely that we made our minds clear about her in that fucking dinner party and refused to change it independently of what she did to be better".

He would know about it.

A blank expression was painted on her face. "You need to chill."

"Leave." he ordered. It was no up for discussion. Cassian couldn't even look at her right now. He was fuming and didn't want to say things he would later regret. As he opened the glass doors for Mor, he knew he would, unless one of them left.

"Are you seriously going to let a stupid fight about her get between us?"

It was the way she said her. Like she had said it a hundred times before, like others had pronounced as well, including him not so long ago.

Cassian turned to face the blonde, a special kind of anger glimmering in his eyes.

"Me?!" he screamed. Mor gave instinctively a step back, "Am I going to let it get between us!? You are the one who brought her up, Mor. You are the one who has a problem, and I'm the one pretending you don't trash her at every chance you get, so we can still be friends. I'm not the one letting an argument get between us, for the only thing I've been doing over five hundred years is make everything easier for you. And now, I'm done." Her eyes went wide.

But Cassian was now beyond turning. He had tried to leave and make her go to avoid exactly what was about to happen, "Are you seriously going to let a stupid sister fight only you care about at this point get between me and my happiness? You really despise her so much you would take the chance of being happy with Nesta away from me only to make her miserable?" he spat.

Cassian took a step forward and Mor gave another one back at the same time, recoiling. There was fear in her face as he made his way to her, a kind of fear he had never seen on her features whilst looking at him. "Just look at me in the eye and answer this question, Mor, and I promise there won't be more fights between us for better or worse: Would you rather have me unsatisfied for the rest of my days than have me happy, if that requires her being blissful as well? "

Her silence was too long. It was too damn long.

Cassian spread his wings, the glimmer of his siphons mirroring his anger, and went for the glass doors.

"I only want to protect you." Mor cried behind him. Cassian walked fast, but she was at his heels when he reached the banister, begging him to stop and listen.

One single tear run down her beautiful face. If any other person had made her shed a tear, he would be the first one going after them to make them suffer unimaginable pain. Mor was his best friend, had always been. Cassian thought there was nobody in the world he wouldn't at least beat up for making her sad the way she looked now. But he heard her whimper, saw the hurt, and realized it was too little compared to what she had inflicted on him. On Nesta.

She had gone too far. And at the same time, she was giving him too little.

He turned to face her, needing to make sure he wasn't making a mistake. A part of him refused to believe this was actually happening, wanted to trust in that, once he met her eyes again, he would see regret in her pupils. The hope he had learned from her ages ago making him give her one last look before he aimed for the sky.

Of course, Mor was too stubborn to show any kind of surrender. Too proud to be regretful.

"I am a 500 year old warrior. She is a 25 year old female whose family she can't talk to without pushing them away. And you think I'm the one who needs protection because she is mean to those she doesn't like."

It was not a question. Cassian wanted Mor to hear what her case sound like to him. Before he left, Cassian wanted her to know this was not going to be a short argument and they wouldn't be having lunch together next week. It was a breaking point in their friendship, and he was going to stand on this hill as long as it took, unmoving no matter how many jibes she trowed at him or how many tears wetted her face.

Mor cried in silence, and only because the winter breeze was cooling him down, he didn't get angrier at her for that, at himself, and at the world. Why did they always find a way to make things harder than they should be?

"Wait, please, don't go." The sound of his wings spreading again almost prevented him from hearing her whimper as she said, "I can still teach you one last dance," she murmured. Cassian listened carefully, she didn't dare moving, monitoring his position as if he were a wild animal and she was a rabbit trying to be discrete to not become his prey "There is one gavotte they are likely to play. She is so good at it, you would think she's known the moves for decades and not days."

A temtative hand reached for his arm and stayed there. He had never seen Mor stutter, especially when it came to him. Cassian had always been her best friend, the one who never got mad at her and she could count on. Now she was unsure if he was leaving for the day, or if he was flying away from her for Cauldron knows how long. She didn't tighten her grip on him when he didn't push her away, it remained light and unsure. "I think you already know it, but we can practice that one a couple of times. Just in case you get a chance to dance with her. You'll look great by her side... like it's meant to be".

Cassian noticed his cheeks were wet as well. His gaze burned so fiercely Mor couldn't hold his stare. With anger still painted all over his features, Cassian nodded and followed her inside again.

Mor didn't say a bad word about her for the rest of the evening, and even if he couldn't know where she went afterwards to rant about it, he appreciated her silence.

---

A couple of minutes after her orgasm, Nesta's legs were still shaking. Cassian drove his hand up and down her thighs, feeling her soft skin with the excuse of a massage to help her muscles relax.

He needed to calm down as well -it had been a particularly long day. Nesta had been happy to follow him into his room after dinner, feeling something was off. He had to restrain himself from telling her when she asked about it. First, because he didn't want her to know he was taking dance lessons with Mor. She would know the reason behind it in a second, and he didn't feel like exposing himself like that for a second time that day.

He also couldn't tell her about the argument that hours later still kept his head bussy. He didn't want her to know how frivolously she had been discussed, what both Mor and him had said about her in the same living room where their kisses after dinner had started.

Nesta's breathing was steady, tranquil. His cock was still inside her. He needed to feel her touch. She wasn't in conditions to leave his room even if he came out of her, but Cassian didn't want to give her a chance to get rid of him just yet. He needed her presence there a little longer.

Nesta's fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pressing his head to the crook of her neck. He kissed the soft skin and felt her pulse beat fast against his lips. The path of wet kisses he planted all the way up to the spot behind her ear made her moan.

Cassian felt his blood rushing back to his cock.

With his hands, he cupped her breasts. A sigh escaped her swollen lips, his own closing around a hard nipple. Cassian marked with kisses and playful bites his way down her abdomen to the apex of her thighs. Nesta's let a loud moan escape when his tongue hit with precision her bundle of nerves, drawing circles around it. Teasing her. Making her wetter if that was even possible.

Unaffected by Nesta's pleas, he enjoyed playing with her, his mouth exploring her folds as if wanting to drink her in. Cassian couldn't hear anything, the sinful sounds she let out a song his blood echoed, roaring in his ears. Her hand found his head, her hips clashing against him as she tried to ride his face. Oh, he loved it when she did that, so desperate to have him closer, for his touch to never leave her.

It was his lust what determined every movement his body made, convincing Casian he could reach heaven just by climbing up her hips. Cassian didn't stop until he felt her thighs clench the sides of his head. The hand that held him fixed between her legs became a fist in his hair, encouraging him to keep going, keep licking and keep playing with her most sensitive spot until his tongue took her over the edge one more time.

Yet he hadn't had enough of her. He needed more and more, and after each time they slept together, the urge to have her again grew stronger, as Cassian became more impatient for the next time. Nesta felt the same way, by how her hands found his wings by reaching behind his shoulders and aroused him again. A grin spread through her face when he let his lover play with him in whatever way she pleased. Whatever she wanted from him, Cassian would give.

He climaxed one more time all over her breasts, before he finally renounced to her body. He was content resting by her side, their legs tangled under the sheets.

It was now a matter of time before Nesta left his room.

Cassian's legs tangled with hers. Nesta moved idly against him, making herself comfortable. Their bodies fitted together like pieces from a jigsaw puzzle, their breaths the only sound in the room. He could tell she was cold as he once again found himself caressing her arms, pale like porcelain under the moonlight that came through the window. Cassian pulled the sheets to cover them and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Nesta had her walls down. She looked so peaceful curled up against him.

"You don't like us, do you?" even if he whispered the words, they were loud in the silence of the room.

Nesta was fighting to focus her sight, just as tired as he was. "What do you mean?" Oh Cauldron. That raspy voice of hers after sex. Too much moaning for her own good. And he hadn't even enjoyed her throat that night. He had to picture terrible things in his head so his cock would behave and not react to her "that was really great sex" voice.

"My friends and I. The Inner Circle as a whole, you could say." His hand rested in the small of Nesta's back, drawing lazy circles.

She maneuvered to get rid of his touch, sitting up on the bed. The absence of her body against him was painfully obvious. Cassian laid on his back, fighting the impulse to sit up as well. He moved his hands to his nape with faked laziness, as if the question was simple small talk. Yeah... the small talk they never had after sex. Not weird or suspicious at all.

Good job, you idiot. She's not coming to your room in weeks. He cursed himself.

He couldn't withdraw now, it was too late. Nesta's gaze was feline. On guard.

"I don't think I dislike any of you more than you dislike me."

"Hey, I don't dislike you!" he ignored the cautiosness on her tone. He would pretend everything was okay and pray Nesta somehow went with it, "I would say, in fact, that I am very fond of you. And so is Az, for what's worth."

She smiled, a cold grin that didn't seem to fit with the rest of her face, still flushed, eyes glassy and tired. "Then you don't have to worry about it." He said nothing, only kept looking at her. He had learned that, if he waited long enough, she would go on. It could be only to insult him and then leave... but she would go on.

---

Nesta sighed. Where was he going with this? What was she even supposed to respond? No, she didn't like half of them... that if she counted the ones she barely tolerated. But she could sit in the same table as them and be civil. She was even working for them, so why he would bring that up two minutes after he came all over her, was beyond Nesta.

"I thought you didn't care what your friends thought of this" she pointed between the two of them, her gesture just as calculatedly casual as his had been.

A wet washcloth appeared on his nightstand. Nesta mentally thanked the house for her timing. If she was forced to have this conversation, she would rather be clean for it. Nesta rubbed it on her chest, Cassian's gaze following and fixing on her breasts. She cleared her throat, urging him to answer.

"And I don't. I was just curious if you did."

Nesta sigh.

"You've snapped at me before for calling one of you an asshole, Cassian. Do you really expect me to go on a detailed answer on how much I value them and their opinions?" Cassian tightened his jaw, but didn't answer. He waited for her to go on, knowing his silence was pressure enough for her to give in and talk.

If she said she didn't mind what they thought of her, she would be lying. But if she told him she did care, she would be lying as well. It wasn't that simple, a "yes" or a "no".

Nesta cared and worried about their opinions, not because she valued their judgement, but because she was still afraid she didn't have enough power in that Court to face their truth with hers. She had her own thoughts about them, but they didn't have the weight on Cassian one word from any of his friends had.

Nobody ever asked her what she thought of them, because it didn't really matter. Yet everyone expected Nesta to take into consideration what they wanted -who they expected her to be. They had crossed the line in the most disgusting ways to make sure she did the right changes to fit into the mold they had created for her. And Cassian had been a part of it.

Now, from all people, Cassian was asking.

"Don't mention them when we are in bed if you want to see me here again." that was the little bargain power she was sure she had over him. The territory she could claim for herself.

Once again, it took Cassian some time to come up with his own words. Nesta's brain was going a thousand thoughts per minute, reading his face, his body, trying to anticipate where he was going to strike next. He had chosen to bring this up right after sex, when she was slower with her wit. Prick.

When Nesta thought he simply wouldn't answer, Cassian finally sat on the mattress, shoulders down, his body apparently relaxed, his muscles tense and wings tucked in "I know this is just sex, and that's enough for me. I'll take it." As he mouthed the words, Nesta came out of the mist that clouded her thoughts, ready to cover up any crack on her armor. "I just want to know if my friends have anything to do with you not wanting... more."

For that, the answer was yes. She did worry what they thought of Cassian and her being... close, only because she wasn't sure what Cassian would do if they didn't approve of them together.

Nesta didn't care, but she worried what it would mean for her if they asked him to leave. Nesta was sure she meant enough to Cassian for him to put on some resistance. But when push came to shove, if they ever asked him to choose, she doubted Cassian would put her before them.

And she wasn't ready to be broken like that.

There was one thing about Cassian she admired above anything else he had and was, and that was his loyalty. Absolutely unmoving. She saw first-hand how this male loved, so ardently, so unwavering. If Cassian was asked to choose and chose his friends, she wouldn't blame him, she would understand. She had seen him put his life on the line for them without thinking, the act natural to him.

It was knowing that Cassian wasn't the obedient dog others had claimed him to be what would be devastating for her. To be so sure that he didn't feel the need to follow his High Lord to the end of the world.

If he chose them, duty wouldn't be the reason. Cassian would do it because he literally loved them more.

It was precisely that what made her so afraid to let him in. To not know if whatever he wanted from her would ever mean to him as much as the bonds he already had. If there was a chance for him to value it even above those. Because she wouldn't take less.

Nesta couldn't tell him she didn't care what they thought, for it would be a lie. And she couldn't tell him about her reasons either without bearing her heart more than she was ready for. And every time she reminded him -or herself- that it was just sex, she remembered why she refused to give him anything else.

So yes, Nesta cared about what they thought only because she feared them in a way Cassian wouldn't understand. He had defended them against her in the past like he didn't know that side of them existed at all.

Unable to answer, Nesta nodded.

Cassian took in her gesture. At his silence, Nesta practically launched herself out of Cassian's bed, aiming for the door and grabbing her nightgown on her way.

He was there before she could grip the knob. His hand slammed the door to make sure she couldn't open it. Nesta turned on her heels to face him, angry at how aggressive his gesture was. At the audacity to behave like this after she gave him the answer he had asked for, only because he hadn't liked it.

She was trapped between his body and the wooden door, her face an inch apart from his naked chest. Because they were still naked. He banged his head against the door and closed his eyes.

"You know I would give my life for you. In a heartbeat. Without hesitation." Nesta could feel her mouth dry. She couldn't believe he was making a scene about this, considering what her mission the next day. What had happened that afternoon before she came back from the Library to shake him like this? "You know that, right?" Cassian insisted.

She nodded one more time, her forehead brushing his shoulder.

"I know you have good reasons to want them far away from you, Nes, but they are part of my life. My family. When I ask myself what I want in my future, I know I want them in it. We've been through so much together that I really can't picture my life without them at this point. To be honest, I don't want to picture it either."

Nesta's throat burned and so did her eyes, lined with tears. She wasn't ready to listen to this coming from his lips.

"But I want you too, and I don't even know if you think that's possible or if I'm making a fool of myself by trying to go after you."

She was glad Cassian had his eyes closed so he wouldn't see the mess she became as his words hit her. Nesta closed them as well, so the tears didn't come out. "We have a mission tomorrow, Cassian. I need to get some sleep and be well rested."

He didn't move.

"Let's not jeopardy the mission for a question you already know the answer for".

In a matter of hours she was going to be dancing with Eris in Hewn City trying to lure him into an alliance with his beloved friends because they had asked that from her. And she had agreed because the future of the frail political situation they were in depended on it. She needed to focus her mind back on that. She told herself that by doing so, she would forget about his confrontation, and by some miracle he wouldn't bring it up again after that.

"Why did you even accept to help with that plan, Nesta?" Cassian asked again, an angry whisper in her ear.

Because it's worse to stay in my room while you are there with them and wonder if you would vanish away once again if I don't follow all of you wherever you go.

The low light of the lamp threw shadows on Cassian's hazel eyes when he opened them to look straight into hers. They were so beautiful. He stretched his arm to cup her hand, but Nesta hid it in her lap before he could.

His arm hung there for a moment, as if not knowing what to do with it.

Don't worry, Cassian, I'm choosing this for myself. I'll do it. I want to do it.

And in return, she only asked him to keep things casual.

Nesta knew it was unfair to him. She was giving him no choice. It was selfish. But no one expected anything better from her anyway. She was self-absorbed, everyone knew that. It seemed to be her defining characteristic in their eyes from the beginning. No need to change that now. The only thing Nesta was willing to replace was her relationship with herself, with who she was. The only goal in her mind was to be as ready to fight for her life as she was to give it for others. Only then, she would be able to share her heart the way she wanted to. And if he was still around when that happened, she would gladly give him a piece. Just not yet.

It would take time, but he had promised to stay no matter how long it took. He had sworn.

Her voice was too close to cracking. "You should go get some rest as well. Don't think too much about this, Cassian. It's just sex, remember?"

"Just sex" he agreed.

Nesta moved her hands up and carefully placed them on his chest to push him away. He obediently gave a step back, freeing her. She went straight for the door knob and opened it. Nesta exited as fast as she could to turn her back on him before he saw the effect his damned questions had had on her.

"And I have no intention of changing that for my own reasons. Your friends have nothing to do with it."

It's you, she thought.

"So many things are happening to me at the same time," she said instead, "that...I don't even know how to deal with them and not have a breakdown every five minutes. I need you to be the one thing in my life that is easy. Please." there was no point in hiding her weeping anymore. "And I don't need anyone to die for me. I would hate that, actually. I want someone who is going to stay alive and by my side all the way. And that's why you need to let go." Nesta wasn't sure whose heartbeat she was hearing, but it was thundering at an alarming pace.

"I understand" he said. His voice was not her lover's caring tone, nor her friend's easy-going voice. He was putting distance between them, making it impersonal. She didn't blame him, as she did the same thing and closed the door behind her.

She went straight to her room and asked the House to warm up the cold space.

There were no dreams for her that night.

---

On the same room one floor above, Cassian stared at the ceiling for hours, unable to find sleep.

The sun came up before he got to close his eyes, still thinking about what Nesta had asked from him. What his High Lord had asked from him aligning with her request as well. What Mor thought of it all. The ball and Eris being the one to spend the entire night with Nesta Archeron.

He had a job to do, a character to play he knew too well to mess it up even if he had gotten no rest, so that part didn't worry him one bit.

Only when he finally got up with the first rays of sunshine, Cassian came to terms with what he would do that night and how far was he willing to go. If what he wanted for himself was worth risking all the good things he already had, both with his friends and with her.

Maybe it was time to stop being a coward who adapted to the group's needs. Maybe it was time he gave the first step. Or perhaps he would do better waiting, not rushing things and allowing people to come to him whenever they were ready. No. The person he had in mind the entire night and kept him from resting would never go to him, pride and uncertainty preventing her from taking risks with him. Yet one step too far could mean three steps back, and then none of it would be worth it.

Mor was right, he was not being his old self as he took a cold shower, put on his leathers, and flew to the River House to put Rhys' plan for tonight into motion. Cassian was not being the illyrian Commander they had always known when he stepped into Hewn City armed to his teeth and ready to improvise and do absolutely everything his heart asked him to do.

[gangrenados]

For a request may I have one where the reader is really flexible and they’re trying to teacher gar some tricks or something cute ?

i don’t know anything about gymnastic so sorry nonnie 😔

"See? It's not that hard, I bet you can do it!" your happy voice didn't really bring any kind of hope to Gar. He was watching you with a puzzle expression, wondering how could you put your legs in that weird position while you hold yourself with nothing but a hand.

You were really flexible, so much that sometimes seeing you practice made Gar worry about how much your limbs could resist. No one in the team could match your abilities, Dick eas the only one down to test how good you were, but even him had to admit that he couldn't do what you can.

So having you teaching Gar had the poor boy praying to not leave the gym with a teared tendon.

" I'm not sure about this, (y/n)" Gar said as he skratched the back of his neck.

You rolled your eyes at him, going back to sit normaly in the mat."You'll do fine." Gar put his lips in a thin line and you sighed because of his stubbornnes.

"Look, I don't wanna break a leg, okay?"

"Let's start with something easier then..." you said as you got up. Gar frowned as you calpped, cleary you had smething in mind." Do you how to do the bridge?"

Gar nodded deafeated, it was clear that ypu were not letting him go any time soon."Yes, yes I know." he said and you grinned.

"Perfect! let's start then..."

[mhiztachairman]

How I got drop out in my due to my stubbornnes @mhiztachairman

Watch through the link below 👇👇👇👇

https://youtu.be/UCCKzYM7v28

[peculiarinsomniac]

An Izuku Midoriya x Reader Fanfiction I'll never write but its idea that is like every other plot hit me like a truck:

The reader is a angel and is assigned to guide Izuku, otherwise they'll lose their job as an angel or they will lose their wings, whatever.

As long as the reader wants something but cannot get it because something stands in their way, you have "a plot". Now what happens if the reader doesn't get what they want or what they have to achieve?

And now you have 1) Tension, 2) Conflict, and 3) Stakes (writing advices from twitter, that I found on Pinterest, thanks to them)

Back to the plot:

The reader is sent to the Earth and has to protect and guide Izuku Midoriya

So instead of Midoriya, who tells the story of how he became the greatest hero, you will tell the story

For the same of the character development, at the beginning of the reader can be naive and doesn't really know how to solve problems down on earth.

Or, the reader can be lazy and doesn't want to solve the problems of the humans, thinking that they are just selfish creatures, and just want to watch the humans destroying each other, thus doing nothing at all. From being lazy and not caring about the humans, the reader will learn that not everyone is bad and some people deserve redemption. And the reader will learn how to grow up and take responsibility. (I prefer that one because the character development of the reader would be amazing)

Now, there are many ways to write it, after all it's your story and you can choose.

I am going to list two ways so you might get inspired:

The first one is in the the first pov, and is more like a crack-fic(?) :

The reader cannot be seen or heard by anyone. Because of that, the reader always makes comments about everything, for example:

"[...] And this is the one I have to protect. His hair is...You know what, screw it, I am going to lose my job anyway. His appearance in conclusion? He looks like broccoli with a teary face. His shaking and sweating hands make me imagine a picture where the broccoli will be cut by a knife any second.

And the four-yeal-old child who's standing a few meters away from him? That's his "cildhood friend" called Bakugou Katsuki. Not only does he looks like a pomeranian with ashblond fur, but also his loud voice is like bellowing of a dog.

The red-eyed pomeranian is like bark but no bite, except he bites. He blows everything and everyone up, it's fitting for a bully.

Why my quirkless responsibility admires Bakugou even though he is bullied by him is unfathomable. Seriously, Midoriya, get a grip, otherwise you'll get constantly hurt. Can't you just stay away from him?"

"Now, buckle your seat-belts, mortals, because I'm going to tell you the story how this quirkless boy made not only his life, but also mine a living hell, especially when he got a quirk. So sit down, and suffer through our experience like we did."

"Do you remember when I told you that he'll get constantly hurt? When he got his quirk, you might gonna think that the bullying will cease. Bold of you to assume that a boy whose dream is to become a hero will not be involved in fights and such. Yep, you heard it right, mortals, he cannot stay away from trouble. Instead of any other selfish person who wants to stay ignorant for their own sake, he wants to suffer for everyone and I have to make sure that he will make it out alive."

The second way can be written in the first pov, but I always prefer the third pov or the second pov because you can see the development of the characters, especially of the protagonist, better. It's more in a objective perspective than in the subjective:

"[...]Frantically turning around, wide (e/c) orbs were looking for the student with emerald coloured hair. He couldn't have vanished from thin air, it was impossible for a quirkless person.

A high pitched scream halted their movements. As they looked up to the sky where the scream had come from, their jaw dropped. Diluted pupils followed a multi coloured blob that raced through the sky. They couldn't believe it! The one they had to protect really had a death wish if he took the risk to drop from the sky to his doom. The (h/c) dropped their gaze to the ground, rubbing their temples to prevent the upcoming heachache.

With slumping shoulders, an exasperated sigh left the guardian's lips while cursing Izuku's stubbornnes to hell. Although the number one hero in Japan told him that he hadn't had time for his number one fanboy, it didn't hinder the latter one to continue the conversation. Not passing up the opportunity to get an answer to the question that had been swirling though his mind since he was a child, he had grasped onto All Might before the blond-haired adult flew away.

Huffing and cursing, the angel in disguise ran back to the crowded city, hoping that they would find the troublemaker there."

When the reader is sent to earth, the reader has to hide their identity from everyone.

Nobody can know that the reader is an angel, otherwise the other angels will hear of this and you'll lose your job or whatever, and you'll never be able to get what you want . We cannot let people know that angels exist, can we?

Do y'all know the series "Merlin" produced by BBC ? This fanfiction is just like that. Oh my god, the reader can be Merlin and Arthur can be Bakugou. But Izuku isn't a douche in the first season like Arthur.

It doesn't really have to be an Angel! Reader x Izuku Fanfiction. It could also be x Shouto, or x Bakugou (Merlin series vibes and Bakugo as Arthur Pendragon). Choose whatever you want.

Not me, thinking that the story idea is like every other BNHA, Reader-Insert FanFiction

Not me being insecure about this idea, but posting it anyway

First time writing something, but pretending that I have writing experience anyway

[novelconcepts]

My mind had kind of been sliding over the fact that Jamie always leaves the door open a crack along with filling up the tub and the sink with water in the hopes of seeing Dani...but Jamie knows why the Lady takes the walk she does out of the lake to the bed: the only thing that remains of her identity, beyond her anger and stubbornnes, is the lingering memory of her love for her daughter. Maybe Jamie thinks Dani's walk will take her in search of the greatest love of HER life, wherever she is?

I can’t think of any other reason, honestly. Even if she doesn’t know for sure, she’s hoping hard enough to leave presumably every door leading back to her open. It always strikes me, too, that she closes the door when she first gets back to the room—that she keeps it shut while getting ready, and it’s only when she lays down to sleep that she props it open. It speaks to the idea not only of “I’m ready when you are” but also “I got ready for you.” Like even now, Jamie’s trying to make sure the occasion is perfect for Dani to choose it, should she so desire.

[kinnporsche-n-chill]

I was wondering, what is your Hogwarts house?

Ravenclaw! (✿◠‿◠)

[throughthewwods]

Last night I really tapped into that, “Guy rocking the violin as the Titanic sank” mood. So over my kid’s refusal to just do her damn schoolwork: the lying, the laziness, the stubbornnness, the sneakiness. It’s consumed my life. Everyday effing day has to revolve around monitoring her to such an extent there’s no room for me to do anything else I need or want to. My brain is completely fried from the incessant stress of this last year. I’ve tried every’positive parenting’ approach and conventional wisdom parenting books have to offer. They are no match for her stubbornness. It’s so tempting to let her fail and repeat the grade. I loathe this age where she’s old enough to create a bunch of very real problems I have to regularly rectify that negatively effect more than just her, but is she’s too young to truly understand the more far reaching consequences to her actions. It be easier to opt out like so many other parents have decided to since the schools closed almost a year ago.. throw my hands in the air and take comfort in that my kid would be one of many children grossly behind by the time all this is over? Well, except for everyone who could afford private tutoring or be a stay-at-home with a knack for homeschooling. Climbing out of poverty was hard enough without yet another economic disadvantage. I don’t expect my kid to attend Yale, but I can’t ignore academia is one of the few escape boats my demographic has to get off this sinking ship.

On an entirety related note, I finally got into the chocolates I was gifted ages ago that sat in a drawer. THC has always given me degrees of anxiety so I’ve never had much interest, but something about last night had me in the right ‘give no effs’ headspace for it. It was nice to be somewhere else mentally : Late night British comedies and tortia chips, nothing to do, but laugh until I passed out.

[lokikingofasgardslover713]

Savage Spite: 2

Masterlist

Ch.1   Ch.3

Warnings: None yet, cursing if it counts, Loki being a ass.

A/N: This was a request from @moonfaery. This is the original prompt & I hope I did it justice. Loki really makes a mess & it seems it will take longer for him to right the mistake than originally thought! So enjoy! Reader is a young celestial that is younger than Loki and whose powers have yet to know just how strong she is but the reader is stronger than Loki she just hasn't realized it yet. Morgan Stark is Tony’ daughter, she and the reader were raised together by grandparents.

Well lets see if it gets better or worse.

Words: 2,400

Thoughts of stopping to get a bite to eat made Y/N realize she hadn’t eaten anything since getting up which was over 9 hours ago, here it was 7 pm & she couldn’t in good conscious purchase anything without thinking of the hell that transpired from earlier. Though F.R.I.D.A.Y had alerted her the ban had been completely removed. There was plenty of cash in her wallet which made the goddess upset she had forgotten about it at the restaurant when she & Thor had stopped to eat to plan more for the day he was going to ask Morgan to marry him.

Which was still going to happen after the Stark called to thank Y/N for getting another cabin, this one even better because it was in some place in Norway Thor had talked about. The goddess quick to tell her it was no problem & she was on her way home to speak with Loki about the fiasco. That was over 4 hours ago & still had yet to take the road home which she was finally turning down.

Y/N wasn’t the one who made the arrangements it had to be Loki because the only other she had contacted was Brunhilde, curious if the Valkyrie was up for a night out but she didn’t get an answer as slow mind remembered the warrior had went on a mission, but knowing the warrior, she would contact Y/N as soon as she realize she missed the call.

It was dark as she pulled into the drive, she knew the figure that stood in the open door had possibly been waiting there ever since she left, slowly putting the Jeep in 1st gear, pulling the park break up to take a deep breath & prepare for the berating she was about to face as she slid out of the lifted vehicle. Y/N kept tired head high surprised Loki moved gracefully out of her way without a word, shutting the door to turn to watch her place keys on the table & walk to the kitchen. The goddess noting Loki had ordered out for them as promised with a tablet next to the food showing the rental, no it looked like he had bought it, finger tapping on it to enlarge the detail as a cool body pulled flush to her colder one.

“It isn’t Montana, but they seemed to like it better,” Loki began arms sneaking around thick waist feeling  Y/N staying cold telling him she was still mad.

“Did you eat,” was all Y/N could utter, ignoring the gods subtle attempts to help her relax.

“Waiting on you love,” he spoke calmly warming his own body so hers would, he hated to feel his goddess this cold though it was nothing unusual, it meant she was distraught.

“Go ahead & eat. I’m going to take a shower & go to bed,” Y/N huffed, shrugging out of the embrace to take strides back towards their bedroom & the large master bath.

She didn’t need it, not really, Y/N needed more time alone without the god hanging on her & usually the shower was it but the presence at bare back told the goddess it wasn’t going to happen tonight. Having disrobed & stepped into the shower to set the water to a warm spray in hopes to warm cold body to calm the frustration she still felt.

“I’m sorry love,” Loki began pulling flush to bare back with naked front laying his head on tired shoulder as the water cascaded over them.

Y/N didn’t speak, didn’t have the words, just looked straight ahead at the tile as the god pulled back but fingers went into wet hair to scratch over the scalp to rub over the aching head. Damn Loki. Without much more thought she shut the water off, pulling free to step out to bathe herself in blue light dry & clothed. The perplexed god stepping out to do the same, without a word Y/N hurried to bed to curl on the edge of the mattress under the thick covers to attempt sleep but it appeared Loki was persistent tonight.

“Y/N, we said we wouldn’t go to bed mad at each other. I know I fucked up, as you put it, but I fixed it. I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you explained to me about helping Thor woe Morgan you know...,” he began to say, when it comes to Thor I check out, but that was wasn’t the words to say as he kneeled before her.

“Love, please? How do I fix this? How do you want me to fix this,” he asked quietly the phone beside the bed vibrating with a call, both looking over to note it was Brunhilde the god letting a jealous glare show for a moment before it went to voice mail getting to his feet as she moved to sit up in bed grabbing the phone.

“I don’t know how you fix this Loki. You broke my heart,” Y/N snipped hatefully doing her best to hide the crack in her voice as she got to bare feet to push past the god who knew better than try to stop her but grabbed her hand, the cold causing him to revert to Jotunn to protect himself from being hurt.

“I know love, forgive me please. I’m trying to make this right don’t ... don’t leave stay here tonight & I’ll go somewhere else, have the house to yourself as long as you need,” Loki spoke, sounding  broken in away Y/N had never heard before & it made her heart ache as the phone began to ring again the goddess swallowing hard before answering while both locked gazes.

“Hey babe. I seen you called,” Brunhilde began, the Valkyrie knew that something was up by the way Y/N hesitated.

“Yeah. You mind if I come by? We can grab a drink… or twenty,” Y/N began looking at Loki with tears rimming her eyes.

“Sure…,” Brunhilde began nothing the shakiness in her friends voice, “come on & I’ll be ready.”

“Ok. See you in a blink,” Y/N spoke hanging up as Loki still refused to let go despite the fact the cold was creeping up his arm to his face emerald eyes beginning to take on the crimson red of a frost giants as his grip tightened on her wrist.

“Y/N. Love. Stay,” was all he could utter as the goddess looked down to the floor biting at her lip, growing colder, Loki knew Brunhilde had been attempting to court Y/N before he came along & this didn’t put the god at ease that the two were still so close, fearing his goddess may leave him for the warrior.

“If you truly want to fix this then you need to trust that I want do anything to compromise our relationship. You will let me go visit my friend with the knowledge I am coming home to you after I calm down because of you can’t then there is no use in us even trying to fix this,” Y/N responded to the god who nodded & finally let go.

“If this is what I have to do to fix this then I will. But may I ask when will you be back,” he spoke calmly with an edge to his voice as she backed away for blue light to clothe her in jeans, t-shirt & boots.

“A few hours to a few days. Will you trust me for that long,” Y/N asked quietly studying Loki for his response to watch his brow furrow before nodding yes.

“Yes. All I ask…,” Loki began taking a step closer to Y/N who thankfully didn’t back away as he reached out to take her hand & allowed it, “call or text to let me know you are OK, is that too much to ask love.”

“No. It isn’t,” Y/N admitted stepping close to kiss his cheek before disappearing in a blue mist, Loki’s phone buzzing a minute later it to tell him she was OK.

“I'm taking a picture to piss him off,” Brunhilde began the instant they sat down in the bar that was in a space station not far from Sakaar knowing if Loki found out he would be there to take the goddess back whether he trusted her or not.

“Don’t you dare! He will be here…,” Y/N blurted reaching for the phone to realize the picture had been sent for at least a minute leaving Y/N gawking at the Valkyries sly smirk.

“See, he’s not here, let’s get a drink,” the warrior told Y/N as she threw an arm around the goddesses shoulders to step towards the bar, wondering if the god was about to show himself but it after 10 minutes of paranoia it was apparent he wasn’t going to show up.

“I told you he wouldn’t be stupid enough to show up if he wanted you back,” Brunhilde smiled as the two found a seat to their selves watching the crowd close.

“So, tell me, what did the jackass do,” the warrior continued to prod Y/N for details as they settled in & the goddess began to explain what all had transpired.

Almost an hour in & someone flopped into the seat next to Y/N earing a glare from the two as the visitor pushed the hood back they were weeing. Mismatched eyes looking to the two women who were holed up in the corner tightly to each other.

“Did he send you,” Y/N snapped hatefully to Thor who looked over at the two women shooting him a deadly glare.

“Norns no… Morgan did, she was worried & upset that you two were fighting,” Thor explained to Y/N who was pushing a drunk Brunhilde off her, the Valkyrie wobbling slightly but obvious it took more than that to make the goddess drunk.

“I'm fine Thor, just need sometime away is all, go back &…,” Y/N began to say, tell Morgan she would contact her, but the drunk Valkyrie putting her arm around Y/N’ waist & planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek made her pause.

“I have been instructed to not leave until you come back with me,” Thor explained to Y/N who was going along with the Valkyries sloppy kisses that where making their way over her neck & looking at Thor defiantly.

“I'm not afraid of you Odinson,” Y/N smirked, pushing Brunhilde off to lock gazes with Thor who looked very determined.

“I tell you what,” Thor began digging around in his coat to pull out a large flask, knowing Y/N wouldn’t turn the challenge down, “down the entire contents of this flask & show me you can handle your mead & I will leave you & Brunhilde to your devices.”

Y/N knew he was scheming to make her drunk, to haul her back to Loki & was using her stubbornness to not turn down a challenge against her.

“Thor,” Y/N began pushing the drunk Valkyrie out of the way then pushing Thor out to his feet dragging Brunhilde with her to get the inebriated warrior to wobbly feet.

“I'm taking Brunhilde home & then I may or may not go home,” Y/N explained before the goddess was gone in the blink of an eye to stumble around the room that had been given to Brunhilde at the compound, laying the drunken warrior in her bed.

“Stay baby,” the warrior slurred, holding tight to Y/N who face planted into the pillow she had laid Brunhilde on, the goddess quick to catch herself to prevent form being smothered by the over loving creature the warrior had turned into.

Y/N managing to pull free, covering the over sexed woman & escaping her grip before she could pull her back to bed.

“I can love you more, I trust you baby,” Brunhilde slurred as she snuggled up to the pillow Y/N looking out the window to comprehend it was way past morning not realizing just how long they had been gone.

“You're drunk Brunhilde & I know you trust me, I’ll come by to check on you later,” Y/N spoke with a laugh making her way to the center of the room before blinking out to find herself in the center of her own living room & it was eerily quiet.

There was no shuffle no nothing as a cold set of hands wrapped around thick waist making her become rigid.

“I thought you weren’t going to come back for a while,” he began reaching for her wrist, curious if the goddess would allow it tugging one to have her spin to face him, noting the god stood bare before her toned body showing all the scars he always hid from everyone but her.

“Brunhilde got drunk & your brother showed up & ruined it,” Y/N purred leaning into the gods toned body as she reached up with hands to gingerly ghost calloused fingers over the scar on his chest from a blade long ago.

“Missed you love,” he breathed out caressing over flush cheek thanks to the alcohol that had yet to get her tipsy & he knew it.

“I know,” she breathed out, leaning into him more moving as if begging for a kiss, the god leaning down close to place a kiss on pink lips.

“Come to bed,” he breathed on supple lips noting his goddess felt warmer than usual as she moved just out of reach.

“No,” she smiled sadistically hands quick to catch his as they toyed with the hem of her shirt before stepping away & heading down the hallway to their bedroom.

“Not forgiving you that easy,” Y/N yelled down the hall as she paused in the door way to glance back at the unclothed god that was at a loss for words.

“Come now lover, I'm not going to give up that easily,” came a dark voice in front of Y/N, cool hands grabbing bare biceps to pull her into the room the door slamming shut behind her & moving them quick to the bed to fall over curvaceous body to force his way between thick thighs while scooting her back on the mattress.

“I know & neither am I, but you have to earn it back. It hurt Loki & now I need to know how bad you want us back,” Y/N spoke quietly pushing the god back to climb under the covers with a flash of light clothing her in a tank top & lacey pantie.

The thick framed goddess snuggling under the covers leaving the god to ponder what his next move was as he clothed himself in a huff & left.

Tags open! And re-blogs are ALWAYS welcomed!

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[alpacasandwine]

After a talk I say to my mom that I got my stubbornness on opinions from her, she gets angry and clearly becomes stubbornn in admiting that she is stubborn

I wonder if she will ever realize that one day, because she never accepts it

[callmehopeless]

You’re Not Alone

Ben Solo (Kylo Ren) x Reader Minor spoilers for TLJ! Be warned!

Words: 2304 Plot: Ben and the reader share a Force Bond. They begin to build on it, and it becomes a crutch for both of them as they realise the Force has brought them together. A/N: I saw The Last Jedi tonight. Holy shit, Adam Driver and Daisy Ridley had superb chemistry. I absolutely loved his tortured performance, the cinematography; everything. So I wrote this. It utilizes some of the script, but most of this is my own work that’s taken a bit of inspo from the film. It’s more fun if you just go with it. Let me know what you think! I already sort of wrote the sequel but it got quite long so I chopped this in half. So you probs have that to look forward to. #dope

The first time he felt it; it was blinding.

His vision blurred, darkened as his pulse quickened. He heard the sound of rushing water, felt the breeze on his face. The briefest glance of sunlight, the feel of metal in his palm. He batted away the medical droid tending him with a dismissive swoosh of his arm; it whirred and darted off, fading into the background. Like a rising crescendo; he felt the Force pushing. Winding. Coiling towards him. The world spun. And there she was.

Lightyears away. Time and space and metal bulkheads separated them across the void of space: but she was here. She looked different. Felt different. The Force gave people away, somehow. The way it bent and shaped around a person, like rivers flowing over rock. The Force around her moved more like sunlight moved across the sea; deeper, softer, stronger than any he’d known. He felt a flood of comfort at her image. She looked healthy. Radiant, even.  She recoiled, and he felt himself through her eyes. The Force moved through him like fire moved through a forest: but she was not afraid. Not afraid of the man who had threatened and hunted her. She was curious. She was angry. (y/n) reached for the blaster at her side, her face contorting as she aimed it at his chest. He felt her defiance; felt her jaw clench as though it were his own. And when the blaster fired, the wound was agony. Burning. He clenched his stomach, doubled over in pain.

But then it was gone. He rose to his feet a blink; cloak trailing at his feet. He still felt the shot, the pain aching in his gut. It was almost as though he saw her, standing just beyond his reach. She panted, face flushed as she moved away from him; crunching gravel ringing in his ears. He started down the corridor, the sound of her breathing guiding him. “Can you see my surroundings?” he asked, swinging back to look over his shoulder. He saw nothing of significance: the corridor stretched out behind him. His voice sounded strange, as though it were coming from a point somewhere above him. And when she spoke, her voice reverberated through his very being. “You’re a murderer. And you’re going to pay for every last-” she started. He winced internally, gritting his teeth. “-I can’t see yours” he continued, curiosity peaking as he stepped forward. He swore he could smell her perfume for a split second, and memories came flooding back to him in a haze that dizzied him. “Just you. Except, no” he winced, the Force beginning to flow differently, violently, like a wound opening inside his chest “there’s something else”.

But before Kylo Ren could see, his head throbbed. And when he blinked, he was alone on the ship. And that was the first time.

***

The second time, he stood with his arms crossed at his back. The hangar of The Finalizer stretched before him; troopers rushing to their fighters and repairing scuffs on the hull. And when the pull came this time: he didn’t fear it. He welcomed her, and the bond clicked instantly, her figure appearing before him as she stood in the rain. A cowl was draped around her shoulders, her face dusted by the light of distant stars. She had begun wearing her hair looser, and Kylo Ren found his lip quivering upward. She was silent; deliberately so. Her stubbornness reverberated through his veins like morphine in his system. “Why has the Force connected us” he breathed “you and I?”. Her face twisted: feelings of anger rising in her lungs. “Murderous snake!” she spat, her fingers clenched tight into fists “you’re too late! Rey left to find Skywalker. The Resistance destroyed one of your frigates. It’s only a matter of time before your regime will crumble-” “Is that what you think will happen?” Kylo Ren asked, his expression composed. Despite her being a separate entity, he felt her running through him. Felt her voice on his tongue. Saw himself through her eyes.  He wondered if he’d ever hated himself more than he did in that moment.

“I’ve seen it” (y/n) said, her eyes dead set on his. In the depths of colour he saw reflecting back at him, he saw the energy. The balance of all things. The steady breeze, the bite of cold. The Force was growing in her, and it was becoming harder for him to turn away. He felt exposed; and he knew that she did, too. Beneath the anger and the pain that flowed between them like a river, there was vulnerability. They had access to the deepest parts of one another’s souls, and Kylo Ren was sure that nobody would like what they found. “You have. You’ve got that look in your eye. From the forest. When you called me a monster” he muttered, clenching his jaw. The memory of her words was like ice in his veins; when she had looked at him with all the hatred she could muster. And then her mind recoiled from the pain of it all. “You are a monster” she hissed, turning away from him and up towards her ship. “Yes I am”, he muttered to the wind.

***

He had been thinking of her ever since. He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop himself. He felt as though he was losing parts of his mind; pieces breaking and snapping away to leave him exposed. Their minds had become irrevocably linked. His thoughts were occasionally sidetracked by hers, and he often saw her in his dreams. But there wasn’t time and distance between them, then. And in those hours, he wondered why he’d let her wound him so deftly. He was exhausted when he returned to his quarters one cold night, and pulled his shirt above his head. The muscle on his stomach was corded tightly from years of training, and ached from all the tension. And when he thought of that ache, he thought of her hands, her breath on his neck. And then he felt that pull, and he felt his heart ache with longing.

(y/n) was looking away from him, eyes down as she leaned against the wall of a ship. He knew she had been recruiting for the Resistance; knew that when Rey had chosen to leave, she had been far, far away. He knew that she was dedicated to the cause. “Ben, I’d rather not do this now” she sighed. She appeared more opaquely than ever to him: as though she were leaning against the metal walls of his quarters. It made him shiver, and he repressed the thought hard. Her words barely escaped her mouth before he realised they were a lie. And his name. His name on her lips sent him reeling, scuffling in the darkness, until he barely remembered that Kylo Ren had ever been real, and not some boy’s made up dream from long ago. “Yeah, me too” he lied, biting his lip as he shuffled. She paused, rubbing her hands together. He felt as though he was drunk, or some manner of concussed. His thoughts were too clouded by emotions that he didn’t understand; a mess of hers, a mess of his. The same emotions, spun back and forth between them until he wasn’t sure which way was up. “Why did you listen to Sno-” she began, and immediately he felt her flood with shock and embarrassment. The Force moved around her strangely, pushing in all directions from the suddeness of it all. He must have looked very real to her, too. She was staring at his stomach, his bare torso. He stood up, and he felt her emotions shifting.

They were, surprisingly, not negative. “Do you have a cowl or something you can put on, something to-” she cut off, her eyes dropping to the floor. Taking a deep breath to collect her thoughts, she began again. “Why did you join the First Order? You had a chance to do something better. You had parents who loved you!” “I did” Ben replied, his heart hammering. “Then why?” “Did you ever ask my mother? Did you ever ask her why?” he asked, and he felt her pull back, pull away. Not physically, but mentally. Emotionally. As though she were choosing to become less real. He reached out with the Force, pulling her back, and she didn’t resist. “Yes. And she still believes you can be saved” (y/n) replied, her hands physically shaking.  Ben stopped, stopping himself. Reminding himself that this was incorporeal. That he didn’t have to respond. And yet... “Do you?” he asked “Do you think I can be saved? They’ll sense the power in you too. Luke, Snoke. You won’t know it’s happening until it’s too late” he swallowed, feeling the fire in his lungs. ”Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to” he said “that’s the only way to become who you were meant to be”. And then he felt the connection snap like a band, pulling him back into reality. And even though he didn’t have her answer, he already knew what it was. He wished he believed her.

***

(y/n) warmed her hands by the fire, the bitter breeze stinging at them. She was way out of communicator range with the fleet - but she had managed to recruit a good handful of fighters. In times like these, every boot on the ground was another victory. She sat in her makeshift campsite next to her ship, feeling the distance of it all. She missed Poe’s stupid laugh; missed the way her squadmates had always teased her about her “Force Mumbo Jumbo”. But more than anything; she missed Ben Solo. They’d barely even met. She had made it her goal to keep her distance from Force Users - she’d heard the stories. They’d all heard them. Most believed they were stories. But Ben Solo? He was real. She saw the pain, the fear, the anger. But there was more good in him than she could explain: and the conflict in him was real. She focused on that thought; focused hard. The Force shifted, reaching out to him, soft and quiet.

And then, he was there. Opposite her.

He was beautiful, in his own way. Dark haired, pointed face. His eyes held the look of someone far older than his years, and his stance conveyed grace she had never known. She knew his mind intimately. Knew his fears. Knew his soul. “Ben” she breathed. She felt his blood burn at the sound of his name on her lips, and it made her head spin. “(y/n)” he added, his gaze affixed on her with intensity. She felt so overwhelmed by it that she was forced to look away; she felt his heart jump as he felt it too. “I don’t know why I’m even doing this” she added, frustration colouring her voice “I came out here to find my place in the galaxy. To find out who I want to be. But I feel so alone in it”.

She could hear her voice as though it moved through them, and his eyes moved to the fire. She wondered if he could see it; she had noticed now that she could see two very separate places. But they both...coexisted.  She was constant. He was constant. “You’re not alone” he added. His words came with such sincerity as his eyes moved to hers; the distance between them began to feel so acute. “Neither are you” she smiled softly. She watched as Ben drew a shallow breath, his gloved hand on his lap twitching. She could feel the agony in him. Feel the longing to reach out, feel the longing to make them both real. “It isn’t too late” she whispered, slipping her hand out from under her cloak. She held it towards him; unsure if they could even touch without reality closing in around them. Without the Force leaping back and destroying them both in the flames.

He stared at her fingers, at the curve of her palm. She saw the last moment of finite resistance leaving him, the last pieces of Ben Solo filling in the cracks between them. His eyes then met hers, and he slowly slipped his glove off of his hand. She felt as though she were in physical pain, but she couldn’t place how or why. The pain of their separation across the galaxy was worse than any wound she’d ever had.

So when he moved his hand out, gently towards hers, she felt the space between them aching as though it were alive. She audibly gasped, and the intensity of his stare was dead set upon her. And then, Ben Solo lightly pressed his fingers against hers.

The feeling was instant and sudden. They both released the air from their lungs, the Force moving between them like one entity, a current that connected all things. She saw his soul, and her soul; the same and different, all at once. They could barely move, for the moment was like nothing they’d ever known.

Ben’s whole body seemed to shake; his eyes alight. There was such conflict, such passion, such depth to his soul. She would never have known. Never have seen. And then she involuntarily felt her mind pulling back as someone called her name. The bond began to shudder, and she couldn’t seem to grasp hold of it again. “No” Ben breathed, pushing his palm to hers with urgency, desperateness contorting his features “please” he begged. Thoughts cascaded through her; his loneliness, emptiness, pain. Fear of losing her. Fear of what this meant. Uncertainty, longing, distance.

She opened her mouth to comfort him, but he was gone. And everything had changed.