#the only thing i feel a lil bad about is that i fear the game isnt gonna sell well bc of people being cautious like me

[ganondoodle]

its kinda funny, i never was someone who cared much about spoilers, usually i even liked knowing what i was gonna get into

the only exception was totk, i was so afraid of spoilers like i never was before ... and well .... i wish i hadnt been like that for it bc if i knew what awaited me it would have saved me alot of money, guilt, awkward interactions and frustration

but id say i learned my lesson at least, im never gonna get a game on release again, limited editions are too much of a risk for me, i like spoilers actually, game review scores are not to be trusted at all, and i will never trust what people say for the first month after release or so either (you couldnt escape the thousands of videos titled "totk is the best game evaaaar!!!!!" for so long ..)

[fruithoughts]

  In this world there are a couple of absolute truths; the sun will explode someday, the water is wet, capitalism is a demon and of course, Yoon Jeonghan is madly in love with his best friend.

     CW: agegap(he’s 29 and she’s 23, they met when she was 19 and he was 25), bigdick!Jeonghan, fem!reader, friends to lovers, he’s so condescending but in the sweetest way?? what an asshole omg, one reference to him being a smoker, idiots in love, a lil bit of dom!jeonghan.

It's a classic, from the very first time they met, the bastard already knew he was going to end up in bed with the pretty girl with the coffee colored eyes, she retorted his unfunny jokes even when her red cheeks gave away that she was embarrassed, played along all of his little games just to give him hope that this time she had fallen into the hands of the big bad wolf, she was made just for him.

The special treatment Jeonghan provided her didn't sneak under anyone's noses, it was obvious, the only person other than himself that he allows to win during table games, just one look at him with that curious puppy face is enough to make him melt whole, he’s that weak. The only person he listens to when she tells him to stop cheating in games, that guy would give all of  the stars in the universe to his girl, would fix the ozone layer in 3 business days max if she complained about global warming today.

  "I could live like this" oh, that persisting little thought, always wandering in the man's head while he is around his friend, just waiting for the right moment to invade his frontal lobe and consequently force his heart into beating fast like crazy by making him think about the calm and happy life he could have alongside his love.

    The dreamer thinks and thinks while waiting for his girl to finish brushing her teeth, a silly smile stamped on his rascal face as he stares at the ceiling of her room, ironically, they were watching Friends in her bed, as always; against the will of his girl who insisted that the series was silly and he only liked it because he was old.

  As strange as it can sound, they had already slept in the same bed hundreds of times, most of those times due to Hannie’s habit of refusing not to take her with him everywhere he went, which more than often left them with only one hotel room to share, these nights were the most special, nothing sexual happened, which made them even more intimate.

The pointless conversations before bed, faces a few inches away as they discuss each and every scenario that his favorite girl proposes, "What name would you give your child? What if it was a girl?", "If the world ended and only the two of us were left, where would we go? Would you protect me?" She was always more touchy with him when she was tired, he loved every second of it. They cuddled until the princess fell asleep, her warm breath on his neck drove him wild, he wanted to fill her face with kisses, but he never had the courage, always waiting for the right time.

Now that once again he found himself in his friend's bed, just a month or so before his military service called for him, he wondered if he let the right time pass right by him at some point in the last 4 years, it was his biggest fear. What if the fact that he had hookups here and there over the years made her think he had no interest in her? What if the fact that he kept posting stories and photos with her made her come to the conclusion that he doesn't have romantic feelings for her because he wouldn't risk showing his possible future girlfriend to fans, and only posts things with her exactly because they’re completely platonic? 

With the date of the inevitable farewell between the lovebirds approaching, something had changed, Jeonghan couldn't quite figure out exactly what it was, but things were different. His girl always loved him(just not in the way he desired so much), he always knew that, she, who was always closed off with others; had no problem holding his hand under the blanket while watching movies or laying her head on his shoulder during car trips while Seungcheol screamed at Dokyeom because he took the wrong turn again, these moments felt like little secrets, his pretty flower laughing softly at the car fights while the bastard uses their proximity to draw invisible shapes of hearts and dicks on her bare thigh until he gets his hand slapped away when she inevitably realizes what he was drawing, in they’re little world in the back seat, no one would ever know.

Well, never? Maybe it was the wrong word, especially now that everything has changed. For some reason, his friend suddenly started offering him 3 times the attention he was used to receiving from her, holding his arm while waiting in line at the grocery store, hugging his waist and hiding her face behind his back while waiting for the uber, deliberately holding his hand as they strolled through some parking lot, suddenly her behavior made it obvious to anyone with eyes to see that they were in a romantic relationship, Jeonghan was in heaven.

He wanted to fantasize, to dream, to believe that this change was due to the fact that now that he's going away, she finally realized that she loves him, that she's always loved him and that they should be together, but part of him just can’t get over the possibility that she might have just gotten extra comfortable now that she realized he's going soon, and decided to give him all the attention in the world because she’ll miss his friend.

Things were not going according to plan and it made him nervous, restless... What was the plan? To confess as soon as he was discharged from military service, his group would be on a semi-hiatus for at least two more years after his return due to the younger ones serving, it was the perfect time to develop their relationship, he was sure they would get married early too, after all, for how long do you date after being extremely close for 4 whole years? He knows his princess like the back of his hand and she has him around her little finger, she knows everything, his whole life, all of his habits, allergies, fears and almost all his greatest desires. 

 — Stop thinking about other things while I'm here —  His girl's voice as she enters the room takes Jeonghan out of his train of thoughts, staring at her until she reaches the bed and crawls over to him to go cuddle again. 

— Am I only allowed to think about you? —  he asks, arching one of his eyebrows as soon as he has her in his arms, lying on top of him.  — When you're at my house, yes. —  She replies grumpily and Jeonghan laughs when he feels his torso being squeezed closer to her, draping one arm over his baby’s back, also squeezing her closer before depositing a little kiss on the top of her head, there's nothing this man wouldn't give to have this right here every day.

The conversation comes and goes as usual, they talk about life dramas and gossips from their respective groups of friends, some complaints about annoying and inconvenient people, just as inconvenient as...

— And that little guy you were hooking up with? Did you get tired of him already? — Jeonghan asks as if he hasn't spent the last two weeks brooding with jealousy, just the possibility of that idiot having touched his girl makes him want to rip off his own face with his bare hands. He’s not possessive at all, clearly.

  She huffs before replying — And that makeup artist you were clinging to? How is she? — the tone of the question tone made Jeonghan roll his eyes, he only had a little affair with that woman, a few kisses for a week and they slept together once, no big deal, and obviously it didn't mean anything to him, just like all his hookups never did. The man's distant behavior towards the people he fucked with was always a reason for a fights between them and most of the time it was the reason for the "breakup" of said hookup status, but why would he try to feel anything for any of his fuck buddies when his true love was just around the corner? He was just paving the way.

  — You know it was nothing, it never is — the man feels her little eyes burning through his face as he avoids meeting her vision, he knows where his answer will take him, he hates this part — And when will it start to be something? You're getting old, you know… —  she says teasing the possibility of her friend dying alone, he knows she's joking, but that's no comfort to how much it hurts not to have the courage to just hold her face and take what he spent the last 4 years wishing for so much, Jeonghan is patient, but people can hold on for only so long before snapping.

— And when are you going to start dating? Deceiving those little boys is not very nice on your part —  he received an indignant look from his friend, getting exactly where he wanted, the part where he takes control of the conversation back. It was no new's article that Jeonghan didn't really like anyone's face, the problems were always repeated in one way or another, "He's too young, he won't know how to treat you right.", "Look at the way he talks, I could bet five hundred dollars that this guy gets grossed out by the idea of eating pussy, he's just a little boy.", "Beautiful, look at the things this guy posts, he doesn't even know how to talk like a normal person and do you think he'll know how to fuck you?".

It wasn't exactly hard to figure out that Jeonghan doesn't approve of the possibility of his dear and beloved friend being a guy the same age as her, they are immature and gangly, they don't know how to do it the same way he does, they don't have the time and money to be able to take care of her like he can.

The silence coming from his petal makes him worried immediately, if that son of a bitch hurt his love’s heart, he doesn't even know what he's capable of doing — What happened, bunny? — he knew she hated the nickname, he called her by it anyway to get her out of her own head, his princess always thought too much, and he, as her perfect match, knew exactly how to bring her back to the real world.

She sighed before shyly admitting — You were right… —  he felt a wave of satisfaction run through his entire body, he loved it when his theories about the girl's hookups ended up being accurate — What was Hannie right about, hm? Tell me. —  he received a slap on his arm and could tell just from her breathing that his pretty little thing was sulking like never before.

  — He didn't even know how to hold a conversation! He didn't talk about anything worthwhile, he didn't have anything to do with life, he was a bore! — she vented, obviously it was something that had been bothering her for a long time, and who wouldn't be bothered when it's impossible to find a nice guy? Nobody had an interesting back and forth, a way of talking that made her all soft, a way of being that was all unique and special, there was no one like that. There was no one like him.

Jeonghan saw life pass before his eyes, the hand that was on the girl's back unconsciously squeezed her waist a little harder, with his eyes still fixed on the ceiling, for a moment he really considered that he was finally going insane, would she ever notice? Was that what they were going to be for the rest of their lives?

Friends who run into each other's arms to receive the affection and love many couples out there can't dream of having for each other while complaining that they can't find the "right person"? Would she ever really find someone who matched her? Someone who isn't him? Someone who doesn't deserve his girl at all, someone who hasn't spent literal years learning all the little details and parts of her life and worked so hard to be the best friend she could ever have, someone who doesn't love her the same way he does, someone who won't know how to make her cum as good as she deserves, someone who… — Jeonghan? — like the devil, that sweet, sweet voice calls to him, and by this point, he's been starving for quite a while.

— I'd make you the happiest woman in the world if you’d let me —  the words lingered in the air for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, he felt his doll's heart start to act as if she had just run a marathon, the strong beats against his chest seemed to mimic the beating of his own heart, which she surely felt too. He didn't even realize when exactly he closed his eyes out of pure fear of having ruined everything, he also didn't dare to open them when he felt her moving around on top of him, when he thought he couldn't stand to stay there any longer without running. 

He felt the sweetest kiss this universe has ever dared create, immediately his hands went to his... friend’s? Face,  kissing her back fervently, Jeonghan could cry if he didn't have so much adrenaline in his body after confession, the position was already perfect, they were grabbing and pulling and rubbing on each other for so long, maybe twenty minutes? Maybe two hours? Four days? It was hard to discern silly things like the time when he finally had his girl exactly where he had always wanted her.

— I don't want you to go, Jeongie... —  she confessed breathlessly, holding onto collar of the baggy shirt the man wore as if he was going to disappear as soon as she let go, those shiny little eyes were capable of making him fight 9 wars, weed 5 batches, discover the cure for 13 diseases, achieve anything that could possibly make her stay with him forever.

— I know, I know, my love —  he laid her on the bed with all of the care in the world, only to then, like an addict, go back to enjoying his girl's delicious mouth while he tested the territory by caressing the soft skin of her waist and belly under her pajama top — Do you love Hannie? Do you not want him to leave? — Yoon Jeonghan was worse than any whore, he wants to hear that he wasn't the only one who’s obsessed, that he's not the only one who spent the last 4 years losing nights of sleep and wasting who knows how much bath water while thinking about his best friend.

He feels his princess's warm little hands begin to explore his torso, scratching his chest and waist, sinking her sharp nails into the skin of his shoulders and the sides of his abdomen so, so deliciously, if he was a little less patient he would have already given up doing things slowly — Wait for it, you'll how learn to be patient, bunny.  — Jeonghan commanded firmly when he felt his pants being pulled down little by little. His girl would be lying if she said she wasn't dying to give in, the bulge in his pants was more than enough to scare her off, but she knew her Hannie would never hurt her — You'll wait for me to fuck you when you’re ready to take it, without complaining, gonna be good to me. 

The prep was long, this man didn't rest until he made his little doll cum in his mouth, then with his long and precise fingers, then with the both, he paused between the three of them so he wouldn’t overwhelm his sweet girl, he did everything to make her as open up as much possible but it would still take time to be able to fuck hard when he entered her little heaven, he was at peace with it, in fact, he was already in paradise just by eating her out. 

The one who wasn't at peace was her, this asshole was too hot for his own good, if she had the strength she would have already ripped off this motherfucker's underwear with her own teeth, unfortunately no one tells you how hard it is to find the strength to be angry with someone after they just gave you the three best orgasms of your life.

  — You look so much happier, baby, just needed someone to treat you the way you like —  his lips and chin glittered with her honey, if they weren't so close, she would probably be ashamed to have gotten so wet, but he deserved it — It impresses me that you didn't suffocate down there, with those black lungs. They must look like two raisins —  she jokes while pulling him by the shirt to get on top of her again, wiping the sweet juice from his chin with her thumb, only to put it directly in her friend's mouth, who happily received the dirty act and sucked her thumb clean.

— I won't even tell you what I'm going to leave looking like a raisin if you don't drop the attitude — he joked right back before kissing her, drunk in love. That was it, everything he ever wanted, just him and his woman locked in the bedroom, smiling like two idiots while making each other feel good, this could last forever, but now he was the one who couldn't wait any longer, all it took was her looking up to him though her eyelashes, giving him the puppy eyes he fell in love with all those years ago, it was all it took for him decided he couldn't take it anymore — Take it off, I'm tired — he says while letting his hands fall to the sides as he knelt on the bed, in front of her, looking down to his pants basically saying "if you want it, then come and get it", this scoundrel is very lucky to have such a beautiful face, otherwise he would have been punched already. 

When the little game and fights were finally over and the time finally came, he entered very slowly, truly enjoying every second of his precious time and honestly, as much as it killed him to see his little princess in pain... Jesus Christ, that expression with her eyebrows tensed up and half-lidded eyes while her red mouth moans his name just so sweetly is a sight dangerous enough to kill anyone. The scene left him all vulnerable, his knees risked failing, his fingers lost strength, and in the end, Jeonghan was a weakling for his girl.

  Her little sounds were all he needed to start moving, extremely slowly, he needed to train her tight little hole to be fucked by a real man — Those little boys really did you wrong, hm? Doesn't feel like you’ve ever been fucked at all — he made a point of speaking as he watched the long drag of his cock into and out of his little angel, hypnotized.

— Shut up, Jeonghan — she said angrily, it was embarrassing to remember that she had been with other people when she could have spent all of this time getting eaten out this good instead. He replied  — “Jeonghan"? Where's Jeongie, Hannie? Do you want me to stop fucking you so you can tell me about this "Jeonghan" guy? — his suggestion was answered with a loud sound of dissatisfaction, and with the little strength she had below her torso, she hugged his waist with her legs to keep him inside. 

  Watching her desperation filled him with all kinds of feelings, just thinking about how good he could fuck her when his princess was used to his size, he could start drooling right there. He sneaks his face into her neck to start another attack, leaving purple and red marks all over his flower’s shoulder, the easing of his thick cock inside her was too good to be true, he couldn't keep his mouth shut — Mine, mine, mine. — he whispered and grunted at her ear lobe. 

Maybe that was just part of having sex with someone you know so well, but he even knew what the attempts of words she moaned meant, he knew she was fighting with him for deciding all on his own that she belonged to him, he knew his stubborn girl too well to not notice — Try disagreeing, go on — he tells her all whiny, imitating the tone of the moans of his now; girlfriend, according to his head — Tell me that you're not mine, that we belong to other people, that this pretty little pussy wasn't made just for me, go on, tell me — clearly the words affected her a lot, if her watery eyes tightening until they closed and her little hole threatening to expel him from being so tight were anything to be go by. He held her jaw tightly, forcing her to look at him. — If you're going to lie to me, lie to my fucking face.

She was going insane, he was doing it so, so well, but he was so slow… Even though a little bit pain was still present, fuck it! She was barely holding on from not trembling with desire, she wanted more, she wanted him — Stop treating me like I'm made out of glass, Jeongie! — she tried to sound bossy but the neediness refused to leave the girl’s voice, Jeonghan could have melted right there.

— And you’re not? What’s my doll made out of, then? — he grabbed one of his girl’s delicious thighs firmly,  leaving a hard slap that would definitely leave a mark, it burned like hell and the bastard didn't help at all, he just held the abused meat again  — What’s this, princess? Did it hurt? Are you gonna to cry?  — the condescension seemed to overflow from his mouth just like his girl's juices overflowed from her puffy hole and stained the fluffy bed sheet with each deep thrust, which now, very slowly as to not hurt her, were taking on a faster rhythm that made her head spin. 

Having thoughts that made sense was too much to ask of the poor thing who was getting the biggest cock beating of her life, she barely heard a word that came out of her beloved's mouth, she just stared at his lips, which used to be thin but were now full and red from the intensity of their love, she just wanted to kiss him again, she needed to be a good girl to kiss him again, did he say something? He said it, didn’t he? A... A question... What was it? "What’s this?" — It’s yours, Jeongie — she replied after using all her mental strength available at that moment, which wasn't much.

Jeonghan couldn't help but smile about how stupid he made his bunny — Mhm, it’s just mine, baby — he held her sweaty little face with gentleness that was completely alien if compared to the harshness of which his hips kissed hers. It was so deep, she felt so full, she never wanted it to end, it was too good, she wanted to cry with the fact that she couldn't hold it for much longer. 

— Do you not want me to stop after you finish, princess? —  he asked just so softly, finding it the most precious scene in the world when his flower frantically shook her head, going "No, no, no!", his cutest little thing — Don’t worry, doll, I’ll only stop when you’re dripping with cum.   

[theeveninghour]

All My Dreaming | Part 2

Summary: After accepting the mating bond, you and Azriel explore some missed opportunities. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

A/N: Thank you for the love on All My Dreaming!!! Not to be horny on main but I couldn’t stop writing for this story, here’s ~8k more words of extremely sweet and very nasty Azriel. I really wanted to write a fun scene with Mor and the gang Rita’s but couldn’t find a place for it in the first part, so y’all are getting it here. There is like, so very little plot here, I just wanted to write a few more scenes and give some additional backstory on these two because I think they’re cute. Also, I love writing little vignettes for this storyline so I might post a few more, much smaller (lol) snippets of them as an epilogue! 

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

WC: 8.4k (i have no self control)

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, cunnilingus, face sitting, more love declarations, Cassian being a lil flirty in flashbacks, soft dom!Az, little hints at jealous!Az, the slightest amount of angst, talk of previous abuse (but nothing too descriptive) and slight breeding kink because Az has one (I feel this in my bones). Azriel is down astronomically bad for the reader in this one y’all. The last 2.7k is literally just porn lol 

Part 1

True to his word, Azriel kept you in the meadow until dawn. The sun beginning to paint the night-sky with sepia hued pinks and oranges. You’d long since finished the wine, eaten half the bread, and most of the fruit and cheeses. He laid against the quilt, wings spread magnificently as you laid against him, thigh over his abdomen, head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing idly at the tattoo inking his chest. He hummed contentedly, and you ventured your eyes up his, finding his gaze already on you.

“Can I ask you something?” You tested the waters of this new thing; bond, love, cocoon that enveloped you. “Anything,” he smiled. “When did you know?” You asked softly. He furrowed his brow. “That I loved you?” He asked and you nodded, turning your upper half to rest your chin on the hand that had stilled against his chest. He laughed. Mother above, he laughed so warmly that it made your eyes crinkle and lips spread into a grin from the sound alone. 

“You’re going to hate this,” he said as a preface, smiling, dimples appearing as he looked to you, “but it was a few weeks after you joined us, and Cassian mouthed off at you about being late to training.” You raised a brow. “You fell in love with me, while I was being…….degraded?” You asked, a little deadpan. “No,” he shook his head in correction, still chuckling. “It was what you did after.”

Cassian kept a strict training schedule. He trained in the early hours of the morning on the balcony at the House of Wind, ate breakfast, then moved to outdoor weapons and flight training off the banks of the Sidra until the early afternoon. He was strenuous and strict in his routine, as was Azriel. You’d begun training with them the week before, and if you were totally honest, you weren’t fully comfortable with the two brothers yet. Cassian was rough around the edges, brutish, with a mouth that often got him into trouble. Azriel was quiet, observant in a way that unnerved you. You’d caught his eyes following you often and you hated the warmth that pressed into your cheeks when he did. 

Rhysand had warned them to give you time to adjust. You’d been brutally attacked by Beron’s dogs only a few months ago and forced to live in the wilds for nearly six weeks, eating foraged fauna and what game you could kill with a makeshift spear you’d carved using sharpened obsidian and a walnut branch. Your body grew weary in those weeks; endless fear, starvation, and sleepless would do that. You were still a jittery little thing, like a wild animal, jumpy when Amren or Mor managed to sneak up on you by accident. 

Azriel recognized these symptoms and allowed you a leniency he didn’t normally offer his trainees, but trauma, physical and mental, took a toll on the body as he well knew. He’d gifted you a golden hilted dagger on your second week with them and asked if you knew how to use it. You held it in your palm, noting the blue stone that sat in the bolster and double edged blade that you could see your reflection in. You looked a little gaunt, but your cheeks held color again, your lips were fuller, no longer dry and chapped from mountain winds and cold nights. 

“I know how to use a blade Shadowsinger,” you said in an even tone. You didn’t call him by his name then. You also called Cassian ‘General’ to his face, and ‘asshole’ behind his back. “Most females learn to use them,” you followed up, “out of necessity.” Azriel hated to dwell on those words, hated to think about what you’d gone through before Beron, what your father had done. He nodded once, and placed a sheath and belt down on the table next to you before taking his leave. 

You’d awoken late for training that day, the sun had rose to a bright position in the mid-morning sky and you knew you’d never hear the end of it from Cassian. You dressed slowly into your training leathers, belting your dagger around your hips and took a deep breath. You walked to the balcony, noticing the males absence and winnowed to the training grounds at the Sidra. Cassian’s eyes found yours immediately and he sheathed his broadsword, turning to look at you. Azriel was perched on a fallen tree stump nearby, and his eyes traced your face, noting the darkened circles there. He’d heard you screaming in your sleep last night and his heart ached at the sound, his shadows slinking off to find you. 

“So you didn’t forget,” Cassian said, muscular arms crossing over his chest. “Tell me something, little girl, do you even want to be here?” He stressed the word want in his sentence in a way that had both you and Azriel narrowing your eyes. “This is the third day this week that you’ve been late to training, and the second that you’ve missed morning warm ups altogether.” He huffed a disbelieving laugh, “I’m beginning to think Rhys was wrong about you.” Azriel went still and he felt a bit of rage creep up his spine at his brother’s harshness. 

In the blink of an eye, you’d unsheathed your dagger and thrown it at the Illyrian general. It whizzed past his head, nicking his cheek, and landed in the training dummy behind him. “Fuck you,” you’d growled teeth bared, as you shifted a stance that begged for a fight. Cassian turned and pulled the knife from the dummy’s eye socket, before throwing in the dirt at your feet. “A little to the left next time you try to kill me,” he smirked. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have missed, asshole,” you said as you fixed him with a glare and your jaw ticked in anger. Cassian’s face broke into a shit eating grin and he laughed, which made you sneer with frustration.

“Good to see you’re still alive in there,” he said smiling, “I was hoping we’d see that spark.” Your anger dissolved as fast as it built up. You reached down to pick your dagger from the dirt and sheathed it at your waist. “Seriously, Cassian, fuck you,” you said and grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows before stalking off to train alone. Cassian sighed and went to follow you but Azriel rose to feet to stop him, stepping into his path. “Let her calm down,” he suggested, placing a hand to his brother’s arm. Cassian sighed. He knew he was being rough with you, but it the only thing left he could think to do. “We’ve tried nice, brother. Tough love worked on Amren, maybe it’ll work on her too,” Cassian spoke softly before trotting after you. 

A few paces off you’d begun firing arrows into a target carved in the bark of an elm tree, teeth grinding. Cassian was right in his intent though, you had to get out of your own head if you were to move forward. You pulled an arrow from the quiver and nocking it on the bowstring and pulling it back until the bow met the pile at the tip. You heard him coming before you saw him.

“Listen, I’m just—” you heard Cassian’s voice and turned then, aiming and firing in his direction. The arrow flew through the air towards the General. The feathered fletching caught the bun at the top of his head, pulling hairs loose, before the tip burrowed into the tree behind him with an echoing noise.

“Mother above, you could’ve killed me!” The General shouted, face blanched. Azriel’s lip quirked up and he looked to you again, you were smiling, closed mouth but smiling, and he felt his heart grow warm at the sight. “I told you, asshole, I don’t fucking miss when I’m aiming to kill.” 

You laughed aloud, cheeks warm as you buried your face in Azriel’s chest. “I’ll go around threatening Cassian more often if it gets me a mate in the end.” The male at your side chuckled warmly and his hand found yours on his sternum. “He still talks about it, you know?” He offered with a shake of his head. “It was precisely the kind of thing Nesta would’ve done too.” 

You smiled back. “Good to know you Illyrians have a type.” He looked to you then and he smiled, eyes tracing your lips, nose, lashes, and the Winter white hair haloing your face. “Not a type, just blessings from the Mother,” he murmured softly. His hand trailed up your arm and pushing your hair off your shoulder and down your back. You blushed, warmth blooming on your chest and running up your neck to your face, painting your skin pink. 

 “Gods, who knew you had such a silver tongue,” you said chastising, looking to where his fingers played with yours as they rested on his chest. “You used to be so quiet,” you added, letting a small laugh escape you. Azriel shrugged and pushed up on an elbow as his hand left yours to run up your arm and cup your cheek. “Good to know you’re still thinking about my tongue,” he whispered before kissing you for the millionth time that night. 

It was mid-morning when Azriel ported you both to the River House. It was surprisingly empty, and you made your way to the kitchen to seek out food, still in the dress from the night before, though it was now wrinkled on your body. Rhysand had stocked the kitchen it would seem, as you found an array of fruits, vegetables, and meats in the cold storage there. 

“I guess Rhys was serious about quarantining us here,” you laughed before looking over your shoulder to find your mate, leaned against the counter, watching you with warmth. “If I cook for you again, are you going to ravish me?” You asked jokingly, pulling a knife from the block to begin prepping carrots for a quick stew.

He pressed forward then, coming behind you to push you into the marble, bringing his lips your shoulder and his hands to your belly. “I plan on ravishing you either way,” he said, lips tracing to the hollow below your ear, a spot that made you whimper as he’d found out the night before and catalogued in his head. You pressed your hips back against his, loving the feel of his body against your own.

 “Very interested in that, though I think it’ll be easier on a full stomach, so maybe go bathe while I cook,” you said, turning your head and nudging your nose into his own. He laughed again and the noise set your heart to skittering. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to having him like this, so free and warm.

You’d seen Azriel in every form. The warrior that fought with skilled precision, teeth bared as he cut down his adversaries; the Spymaster that tortured, maimed, and killed Night Court threats; the brother that took his friend’s teasing in stride, lips quirking silently as he shook his head. You’d never had him like this though, laughing and full of affection, touching and grasping so freely.

His hand found your chin and you knew he’d heard your thoughts again from the look in his eyes. His fingers stroked up your jawline, fingers pushing hair behind your ear. “There is no one in this realm, on this continent, male or female, that has as much of me as you do on any given day,” he whispered before he pushed away to stroll out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You let a shaky breath go from your chest. He was trouble. 

Later, after you’d both bathed and eaten until your bellies were full, you sat at the dining room table, sipping a glass of wine. “You asked me this morning when I knew,” he started, setting down his wine glass as his index finger began tracing circles into red table cloth next to it. “When did you know?” You laughed and took another sip of wine, you’d need it to keep up with him. “Mine’s not as violent,” you fixed him with a pointed look and he smirked.

You took a deep breath, “it was several months later, at Rita’s.” He laughed warmly in disbelief. “What?” Surely you weren’t serious? “What in the Cauldron could’ve happened at Rita’s to make you fall in love with me?” His eyes were twinkling under the fae lights. 

Mor had begged you to go and you’d told her no at least thirteen times. You’d grown fond of the blonde as had she with you. She’d helped you immensely in your first months with the Night Court. She knew what it was to be hollowed out by trauma, particularly trauma that extended from those in the Autumn Court. She also knew bad fathers. You were grateful to her and you’d opened to her in a way you’d hadn’t yet with anyone else in Rhys’ Inner Circle. 

“Please?” She tried again, “We can go into the city and get you a dress, I’ll even pay for it!” You rolled your eyes, “You won’t give up until I agree, huh?” She’d laughed then. Her laugh was the kind of full bodied female laugh you hoped you’d get back some day. “You already know me so well, Little One.” She nudged your shoulder, before patting your cheek and leaving you alone to dress for the day ahead.

Little One had started a few months prior when you poked fun at Cassian during a dinner. You’d been ready to maul the General in your first weeks, but you’d settled into a peaceful truce. He’d been talking loudly about the female he’d been with the night prior, all bravado and innuendo. “Amazing you were able to land her at all with that ego,” you’d muttered taking a sip of your wine. Amren sat across from you and her lips quirked as she looked your way in silent agreement. She and Cassian were also at odds often. Cassian slid his eyes to you and they narrowed as you feigned innocence, setting your glass down and looking to your nails. “Did you just mock me, Little One?” He asked, head tilting as he watched you pick at a cuticle. 

You met his eyes and raised a brow. “Tell me Cassian, is what they say about Illyrian wingspans true?” You said, eyes glancing to Rhysand and Azriel, both looking thrilled at this development. “Cause as I see it, you look to be outmatched.” The room went quiet before Cassian bellowed a loud laugh, bringing a hand to his chest. “Cauldron save us, she’s got jokes,” he snickered and your lips curved into a smile. He turned to you then, lips smirking. “For the record, it’s not the wingspan that matters, it’s how you use it.” His rebuttal caused you to let out a breathless laugh as you picked up your wine and rolled your eyes. 

Mor had dragged you into the shopping district of Velaris to find an appropriate dress. The first store was a bust, and the second was looking to be the same. “Come on, Little One, there has to be one you’re interested in!” She’d said, voice going a little whiny on the tail end of the sentence. You’d scanned the boutique again, and noticed a dress hanging in the far back corner that was looked like threaded starlight. “That one,” you pointed and her eyes slid to it before her lips broke into a knowing grin. “You go to the dressing room and I’ll grab it,” she offered and you’d nodded, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. 

She’d brought you the dress and you shut the curtain in her face as she laughed. You’d undressed slowly, eyes scanning skin as it appeared. Your eyes zoomed in on the heavy scarring at your legs, Gods you hated those markings. Once the dress slid on, you pulled up the zipper at the side and adjusted the bust line.

You loosed a loud breath, it was…. generous in the amount of skin it showed and the style screamed Night Court. You turned and realized the back went down to your bottom, showcasing the two dimples at the small of your back. The slit at the side came all the way to your hip. ‘Cauldron, this isn’t a dress, this is a scrap of fabric,’ you’d thought. 

You turned and opened the curtain stepping out to find Mor looking at you with an open mouth.  “Are you sure you aren’t into females?” She’d asked. “Because I’d love to keep you to myself tonight.” You’d blushed and laughed heartily. “Is it good?” You asked cautiously, turning in a circle. “Good? Little One, the males will be on their knees,” she said eyes twinkling with mischief. 

You’d bought the dress despite the insecurities and gone home the House of Wind to get dressed. Mor had sent Nuala and Cerridwen to you to help with your hair and make up and you’d thanked them profusely.

As the moon rose for the night, you stood in your quarters staring at the mirror on the wall opposite your bed. You had looked lively again, your cheeks were fuller and the hollows under your eyes were less bruised than they had been months prior. You sat on a bench at the foot of your bed and started to pull on your heels, a leg shining through the slit of the dress. 

Once you’d buckled the strap your shoes, you stood, a little wobbly. It’d nearly a year since you’d worn heels and the last time you had, you were set to be engaged to the Autumn Court princeling. You refused to dwell on that and moved toward the door, opening it and stepping into the hall.

Cassian was exiting of his room as you were shutting your door and your eyes met down the corridor. He let out a wolf whistle and began walking your way. “Well, well, well,” he started and you braced for his comment, “don’t you look pretty enough to eat.” You grimaced and looked at him before scoffing, “pig.” His laughter made your lips curve into a smile. 

You strolled down the steps to find Rhysand and Azriel waiting there. Rhysand looked to you and smiled warmly, “You clean up nice, Little One.” Azriel’s eyes found yours next and his jaw dropped, then shut quickly, muscle ticking. A gloved hand at his side set into a fist and he could hear the knuckles crack. “I think she’ll be fighting the males off tonight,” Mor piped, appearing next to you, “wouldn’t you lot agree?” 

Rhysand and Cassian hummed their agreements but Azriel’s eyes couldn’t look away from your form. The dress draped your body like liquid starlight, the slit at your hip had his fists clenching at the desire to touch. Mor walked you past the males and he caught glimpse of your exposed back and something primal reared its head shouting at him to grasp, lick, bite until you were covered in his marks. Cassian flanked the Shadowsinger and whistled low, eyes following you. “I’ll have to find her on the dance floor tonight,” he said, eyes gleaming as they traced your retreating form. Azriel, though he loved his brother dearly, wanted to rip his throat out for even glancing at you. 

Rita’s was littered with intoxicated fae. Mor grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bar, while Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel made their way to the section explicitly reserved for their use. As you stood at the bar with Mor, a male came up to you, leaning into your space and asking your name.

The male ventured a touch to your arm and you leaned away, disliking the overt physical attention. As he spoke, a gloved hand appeared between you and Azriel pushed his way into the space without apology or acknowledgement. “Hey, I was talking to her!” The male tried to protest loudly before Azriel turned and fixed him with a devastating look, causing the male to wilt before putting his hands up in surrender and walking away.  

You stumbled out a laugh as he turned back to you. “I think you may have hurt his feelings,” you said smiling, looking to the Shadowsinger. He eyes were already on you again, tracing your face, and hair, the long line of your neck. “That’s much too bad,” he said, signaling the bartender over and you both ordered a round of drinks.

“You look beautiful tonight,” the words came out of Azriel in a rushed whispered, as if he’d forced them out against his will. You turned to meet his eyes and your face warmed at the look there. “I was so nervous to wear this,” you breathed, “the last time I was in a dress and heels like these, I was engaged to marry a Vanserra.” You let out a small, cynical laugh. “Gods, I’m so glad I left.” 

Azriel softened then. “He didn’t deserve you, Autumn didn’t deserve you, I hope you know that,” he’d said, gloved hands laying flat on the bar top, the length of his middle finger grazing your own. You wanted to reach out to them, to ask why he wore the gloves around you, but you resisted. 

“For what it’s worth,” he continued, “I’m also glad you left, I’m glad you’re here most of all.” You met his hazel eyes again and traced his face. He was likely one of the most beautiful males you’d ever seen and he was being awfully sweet with you. He looked to Rhys then, the High Lord likely speaking into his mind. He smiled turning back to you, “Rhysand says he’s also glad you’re here,” he said mockingly and rolled his eyes. You laughed, a small tinkering thing, that made Azriel’s heart beat quicken. “Thanks, Az,” you smiled broadly at him and he knew for sure and certain you would ruin him.

You turned to your drink then as the bartender sat it down in front of you. You picked it up and took a long sip. If Azriel kept looking at you like that and speaking to you in hushed tones that made your heart race, you’d need about five more of these. 

You heard him take a deep, steadying breath at your side, turned to look at him, brow furrowing slightly. You were ready to ask if he was alright when he finally spoke. “Cassian said he was going to ask you to dance tonight,” he ventured and you snorted. ‘Of course he did,’ you thought with a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head. “Would you allow me to be your first?” He asked, holding out a gloved hand. 

You looked to his hand then back to his hopeful hazel eyes, and you blinked a little slowly, a little disbelievingly. Just when you thought you figured him out, he threw you for a loop. You took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. As your body moved with his, you couldn’t help but wish for forever in this moment, forever in his hands, and his eyes. Mother above, you were in trouble. 

“That dress was pure sin, Little One,” Azriel smirked. “And I told you, I am quite fond of dancing.” You huffed a laugh and looked to him, a little bashful. Azriel laughed softly again. “Cassian pouted for days after that night,” he spoke, “he was mad I stole you away.” You wondered if Cassian could tell how utterly smitten you were after that night. “I think he was a little infatuated with you in those early days too.” 

You grimaced. “That’s much too bad,” you said, echoing his words from centuries prior. You stood then and stepped towards him to halt at his side, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair. “I always had eyes for you, baby.” 

You trailed a hand up his arm to his shoulder, then back to the shoulder joint of his wing, tracing the bone up to the clawed crest. His breath guttered out of him as he closed his eyes, brows furrowing at the sensation that zipped down his spine and settled in his lower abdomen. 

“One more question for you,” you said softly. “No,” he growled out, “I’ve had enough questions, I want to have you again.” His eyes opened and looked to you, scarred hands grasping your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there. “One more and I’ll give you whatever you want,” you offered. He raised a brow. “Whatever I want?” He questioned and you nodded. “Even if I want to bend you over this table and take you from behind until you come all over my cock?” 

Your eyes watched his predatory gaze and a feline grin appeared on your face. You laughed again, “considering that’s a win-win, I’ll gladly trade for that.” He laughed too and rolled his eyes in fondness. “Fine,” he conceded, “one more question, mate.” His hand traced back, grasping the flesh of your ass through your thin silk housedress and you gasped, “then I get to have you in every way I want.”

You had to shake the lust from your thoughts, focusing on the question that had been circling your mind since your return to River House. “Why didn’t you to tell me of the bond?” You asked softly, hand resting on the arm that held you. He took a deep breath, he should’ve expected this eventually, but in all honesty, he’d hoped to put it off as long as possible. 

“I just mean,” you took a shaky breath, growing a little nervous. “It snapped so early for you, and I—” you swallowed, “I wouldn’t have turned you away, surely you must know that?” Your eyes found his and he saw the imploring look there, brows slanting as your eyes swam with emotions. He took a grounding breath and his hand traced up your hip to your back as he pulled you in to bury his face in the soft of your stomach. 

“I was scared,” he said, though it came out muffled. You combed fingers through his hair soothingly and he tilted his head up to face you. “You were—” he stopped himself, “you are the single most magical thing in this realm.” He spoke softly, as if he was scared he’d burst the bubble of newfound love that had surrounded the two of you in the last few weeks.

“When I was a child, my half brothers tortured me,” he started, eyes wincing. “They did this, you know,” he held up a scarred hand. You nodded, Rhysand told you of Azriel’s brothers and father years ago when the subject of Windhaven came up and how you would likely not be sent on any missions there. “For my gift with shadows, they’d called me every name under the sun, insisted I was a bastard child, beat me, shunned me, cast me out. I was alone until Rhys and his mother took me in.” Your eyes teared up when you thought of how isolated he must’ve felt, how damaged. You knew feeling well. 

“When I knew I loved you, I resolved myself as unworthy of your gaze, your touch, anything,” he sighed and his hands pulled from you to fall in his lap. “I figured I’d been alone for centuries up until that point, and it was likely I’d be alone forever.” You pulled one of his hands into your own and brought the knuckles to your lips. “I love you,” you said softly, lips resting against the marred skin there, “I hope you know that.”

He looked to you and he smiled, a small watery smile as his eyes closed and he nodded his head. There was that gift again. “You know,” he said, “more than your beauty, or strength, I admire your courage and vulnerability. I think that’s what scared me the most.” He spoke softly again, wanting to preserve the shroud of gentle love that surrounded the two of you. 

“I saw how you were with Mor and Amren. How you cared for Cass, despite his explosive anger when Rhys went Under the Mountain for fifty years. How you attended Rhys when he returned in shambles, traumatized and broken.” He looked to you, eyes shining. “You took it all in stride with such….. care and endless love and I—” he paused, bottom lip trembling. “I didn’t think I’d ever be worthy of your heart, of your attention, so I took what I could get. Your glances, your smiles, the teasing at dinners. I took it all and I made myself content with it,” he shuttered out a fragile, broken breath, eyes falling to the shadows that gathered at his feet attempting to console their master. 

“I’ve loved you in secret for two centuries, Little One, I’ve loved you so much my chest ached and I thought I would die from the unsung bond that resided there. My soul would know yours in any life. At the ends of the earth in total darkness, it would still find you.” He let out a shuddering breath, “you’re the other half of me.” His eyes found yours then and the look there made you feel overwrought with emotion.

You and Azriel had been friends for two centuries. You laughed and cried together. You’d shared meals and secrets, dances and fleeting glances, little chaste touches. You’d told him of your father, of Beron, showed him your scars. You’d pined for him for just as long and to know he’d silently yearned for you in return, your heart felt like it might break apart.

“The bond snapped for me during the war,” you offered him a small secret of your own and his eyes found yours, going wide at the revelation.

The second war with Hybern had been a brutal thing. Feyre and Cassian had taken to recruiting help out of the Ancient Prison on the northern shore of the Night Court due to Prythian’s limited numbers. You’d known it was a suicide mission going in and you’d nearly been right. You’d fought alongside death gods and monsters alike in a battle that would be legend for ages to come.

“I wrote you a letter before we left for battle,” another secret, but for him, you’d bare your soul. “I was going to tell you then,” you continued, “I’d been in love with you for 189 years at that point. I was so far gone for you but I’d assumed, that if you wanted me, I would’ve known. You would’ve said something, anything. So I put it all in a letter, worried I wouldn’t return alive.” His breath hitched, remembering the sight of you impaled on a sword, bleeding out in his arms.  He’d taken the soldier’s head off their body as penance and it still didn’t feel like enough. You let out a small gurgling laugh, throat tight, eyes wet with tears. “Sometimes I can’t believe I did.” 

You took a steadying breath and leaned to kiss his forehead, his eyes closing from the contact, mouth humming. You leaned your cheek on the crown of his head, your thumb rubbing soothing circles in the space behind his ear. His hands went around to your back, nose and cheek resting against the cradle of your chest as he listened to your heart, still beating strong beneath. The two of you were the sort of image that artists carved into marble, the picture of lovers so inseparably bound that they were one eternally, in every life. 

“In that letter I apologized for not telling you sooner, said I didn’t need the Cauldron to know it was you my soul sang for. That you were the one the stars had fated me to meet.” He clenched his eyes shut from where his head rested on your rib cage. Every word you uttered was like a poultice to his damaged soul, filling the cracks that had been there since his adolescence. 

He was wrong when he’d thought you’d ruin him. No, you’d save him, from the darkness that encroached his mind, the insecurities that lingered there. You were a flower blooming against all odds in the shadows, and he’d do anything for you. All his wasted centuries of dreaming had been given a name and form in you.

“I’m glad I ran from Autumn that day, glad it was Rhys that found me in the wilds, glad it was the Night Court that saved me, but more than anything, I am glad that every step I’ve taken in this life has led me straight to you.” Your hand dragged forward, over his cheek, to gently tip his chin up to face your gaze. “May you never doubt the depths of my love for you.” You kissed his forehead then before moving your lips to the space between his brows, the tip of his nose. His eyes fell shut and his hands came to hold on tightly to your wrists for fear he’d float away. You kissed his cheek, and eyelids, before making your way to his mouth. 

This kiss was just as electrifying as the first and he pressed his insistent mouth to yours desperately. He pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth and took your gasp as the opportunity to slip his tongue against your own. He could kiss you for a millennia and he would not get enough. He wanted all that you had to give and everything after that too. Nothing, not even flying, could compare to how his heart sped when you kissed him like this. He poured centuries of yearning into it.

He pulled off of your mouth and kissed the corner of your lips before leaning back to gaze into your eyes. “I’ll need to tell Rhysand not to expect us back for a few months,” he said, hand coming up to brush a stray hair behind the shell of your ear. Your brain, still two paces behind from that kiss, registered what he was saying and you let out a breathless laugh. “Months? Thought the frenzy was a few weeks?” You replied, still smiling, tears drying and he shrugged, fingertips tracing the skin at your collarbone. “I’ve got two centuries of love to make up for,” he stated softly before smiling in a feral, cunning way, “and I plan on taking my time.” 

Azriel ported you to the bedroom and you’d laughed, “I can walk you know.” He smiled, leaning down, kissing your cheek. “Save your energy, Little One.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you to stand between his legs. He allowed himself to look at you, unhurried, a little predatory. You did the same, eyes passing over tanned skin and freckles, tattoos and scars as your gaze made it’s way down to his hips, where you notice his length pressing tightly against the front of his pants. Your eyes trace back up to his, cheeks a little pink, only to find him smirking. 

“Are you ever going to be sated?” You laughed. You pulled the hem of your dress up to lean over him and settle a knee next to his hip as you crawled into his lap. He hummed, pulling your hips to his own. He traced his nose along the skin of your throat, inhaling your scent, committing to memory as he nosed the silk strap of your housedress, pushing it down your shoulder and pressing his mouth to the skin there. “For you? Never.” His tongue laved at the length of your throat, as he made his way up before bringing his mouth to yours.

This kiss was slower than the one you’d shared in the dining room. Tongues entwining, teeth biting. He dove deeper, sucking against your tongue before licking along the bow of your upper lip. He rocked his hips up to meet your own, his cock sliding against your slit in a way that had you gasping. His hand pushed your gown up over your hips to your waist and his gaze fixated on the center of your hips, you’d forgone underwear after your bath. “No panties?” He breathed into your mouth. “Maybe I should’ve taken you on the dining room table after all.” 

You laughed, rutting your hips against his own, loving the sound that rumbled in his chest. You pulled the little silk dress up and over your head, baring yourself entirely to his gaze. “There will time for that,” you said, voice laced with promise, “but I’d like for you to take me in a bed, properly.” He gave a little laugh then, bringing his face to your own, teasing at your mouth again. “Under the stars wasn’t romantic enough?” His hands found your hips and fingertips pressed into the flesh there. You were sure you’d be bruised all over come tomorrow. 

He leaned back pulling your hips up his abdomen. “C’mere,” he commanded, jerking his head in instruction as he laid flat upon the bed, wings spreading in full. He looked like a god this way, but the way he looked at you, muscles rippling as he tensed, jaw ticking, hair debauched, love bites down the tanned column of his throat from your mouth, eyes heavy lidded with lust; if he was a god then certainly you were his goddess. He growled then the noise escaping him unbidden as he hauled you higher to his chest, your hand shooting out to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“You are a goddess and I am but a hopeless disciple,” his voice had pitched deep with want, desire alight in his eyes and you thought you might never tire of seeing him this hungry for you. His fingers dug into your thighs and he hooked your knees to pull you higher. “Let me worship you until I find absolution.” He pulled you to his chin, teeth nipping at the flesh of your inner thighs. His found your eyes again and he nodded to you. “You’re going to sit on my face, sweet one, and I am going to feast on you like the goddess you are.” 

Your breath left you in a shuttering broken gasp, and you leaned up, shuffling the last few inches. His arms wrapped around your legs, caging you to his face as hands came around to open your cunt to his view. He let out a primal noise that had the air leaving your lungs in pant and your hands grasped the headboard in some pitiful attempt at grounding yourself. He nosed your clit before pulling you down on his mouth, suckling at you like a man starved. 

His tongue pressed flat against your clit and you thought you might break apart. You were sensitive from the night before and you had to actively try not to rock down against his face. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled you forward, hands grasping your hips and rutting you against his hot mouth. You couldn’t help the shuddering moan that left your throat and he hummed along with you, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine. 

He circled his tongue in a pattern, quick flicks then slow drags of friction that had pleasure zipping through you until your thighs were twitching, nails digging into the wood of the headboard, hips rocking on his mouth. He nosed at your clit as his tongue slipped down to circle your opening, collecting the wetness that gathered there, groaning at your taste. His lips returned to your clit and he sucked it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, speeding the flicking of his tongue until your hands were shaking and your moans keened to a higher octave. 

“Azriel,” you gasped, a trembling hand found his hair, nails scratching. “Az — fucking Gods.” You looked down to him between your thighs and he watched you, the definition of sin. His cheeks had grown pink, brows furrowed, hazel eyes gone molten as he nuzzled his face into you. He unhanded your thigh to slide back to your ass, fingernails digging into the ample flesh there before he released it and his open palm came into fierce contact with the cheek. You jolted at the impact and the sound that left you was the highest, most trembling whine he’d heard come out of you. He catalogued it in his mind for later. 

His hand soothed the skin at your behind before smacking the skin again, the contact rippling across the flesh like a tiny earthquake. Your hips tilted against his chin faster, more desperate and your moans grew closer together, a little more frantic as you felt yourself approaching your peak. His tongue circled you again before he sucked the button into his mouth and began a steady, insistent pattern. 

You could feel the pleasure focusing, your lower belly tightening.  “Az— I swear I’m—” you gasped and your head fell back, exposing your chest and neck to his greedy view. “I’m going to come, baby,” you whined deep, hips canting in tight circles, desperate for release. He hummed an affirmation and his hands grasped your hips to guide your through it. Your release hit and the moan that left you was shattering.

You leaned back, hands finding purchase on his chest, as he pressed kisses to your thighs. “Gods,” you gasped, falling to his side as you moved off of him and pressed a hand to your chest, catching your breath. “Fuck me,” your eyes shut for a moment and you felt his lips pressing tender kisses to your eyelids. He kissed to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, before whispering devastation there. “I told you my love, I want to take you apart slow.”

His lips came to your chest, pressing a kiss to the jugular notch at the base of your throat between the clavicles. “There is no war,” kiss, “no mission,” another kiss, moving south to the globe of your breast, “no threat this time.” He breathed into your sternum, tongue tracing the skin of your cleavage. 

You were right that Azriel was mouthy. Mother above, now that the gates had opened, he was bent on taking everything from you and you would let him. You would let him shatter you to pieces, trusting he’d put you back together again. 

“You’re wearing too much,” you complained, fingers pulling at the waist of his trousers, which seemed to have grown impossibly tight around his hardness. Your hand pushed under the band and fingers grasped him firmly, his gasp escaping directly into the skin over your heart. He rutted into your hand, mouth coming up to your own as he kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue.

You pulled back from the kiss and fixed him with an imploring look. “Can I put my mouth on you now?” You asked softly, batting your eyelashes a bit, just shy of begging. He felt desire rip through him, his cock giving a jerk. A growl released from his throat. “As much as I want you on your knees for me,” he breathed deeper. “As much as I want to fuck this pretty little mouth,” his thumb tugged at your bottom lip and you leaned forward to pull it between your lips, tonguing the scarred skin there as you sucked. 

His eyes fixated on the action, pupils blown wide.  He pulled his thumb from your mouth and spread his hand to grasp your neck at the height of your throat, “I thought our bargain was every way that I wanted you?” He watched your eyes flutter as he squeezed from the sides, your breath hitching, cunt growing wetter. He could smell your arousal and the feral need of the newly minted bond had him feeling utterly primal. “And right now, I want you on your hands and knees, begging as I take you from behind.” His voice had pitched deep, and you thought you might never recover from this. 

His hand traced down to your wrist, pulling it from his cock and then he patted your ass. “Be a good girl for me.” Your breath came out shaky and you nodded, scrambling to turn around and bend down to present yourself for him. A pleased hum settled in his chest as he stood to slip off his trousers before kneeling behind you. He ran his eyes up the expanse of your back, the scars that now resided there. He’d kill anyone who threatened you again, he’d take hands from their bodies if they touched you.

He watched your shoulders roll as you adjusted your weight, and he was reminded of every backless gown you’d worn in the last two centuries. How he had never allowed himself to touch you in the way he wanted.

He ran a scarred hand up the center of your back, leaning forward and grasping your neck from behind, bringing you up and into the long line of his front. His nose trailed your shoulder and his lips found the spot below your ear again. His teeth came in contact with the flesh there, biting then pressing his tongue into the skin to soothe the sting. The little whimper you let out made him smile, he loved you like this. His other hand reached down to guide his cock to your core, hips dragging the length through to slick there. His brain catalogued each sound that you made, he was mapping you out slowly, learning your body and memorizing all. 

The hand holding your neck released its grip, and he pushed you back forward, your hands trembled as they came to hold your weight.

Before leaving you, his fingers gathered your hair and he wrapped the length of it around his hand once before fisting and pulling, causing a low moan to escape you. “Hold on, little mate.” His voice ground out and he guided himself into your warm cunt, pulling back once, then twice to work you open until he sheathed himself fully.

His hips were flush against the flesh of your ass as he ground in and your breath began to come in pants. You were so in over your head and you loved it. He laughed, ‘I heard that, my love,’ he spoke into your mind. ‘Let me know if you want to stop.’ You nearly laughed aloud. ‘As if,’ you repeated your words from the night before.

His hand tugged at your hair in response as he pulled out to the tip and slammed back in, hard and deep. Your back arched and your arms threatened collapsed. He began a slow and steady pace, rutting to the hilt and pulling out before slamming back home, skin slapping against skin. You could hear the loud suck of your cunt on every pull, the noise itself was desperately erotic, and Azriel fucking loved it. He wanted you like this like always. He wanted to stay in the warmth of your cunt for the rest of his days. He picked up his pace and groaned when he felt you clench around him as a wanton moan escaped you. 

His hand released your hair and he leaned over your form, kissing your shoulders, holding you tightly as he pushed back to the hilt and ground in, small cants of his hips causing your breath to tremble.

“Azriel, baby, you’re gonna ruin me,” you spoke quietly, head falling forward. He laughed darkly, biting at the skin at the top of your spine. His hand grasped the front of your throat and brought you back up into him, mouthing at your shoulder. “Tell me you’re mine,” he ground out, hips pushing faster. His other hand found its way to your front, tracing down your soft stomach to rub slow circles at your clit. “Tell me you’re mine and let me fuck you into oblivion.” 

You groaned feeling your orgasm crawling up your spine, cunt tensing. “I’ve been yours for two centuries,” you gasped out, breathless, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. He growled out something primal, but you continued, delirious with pleasure as his fingers and cock broke you apart. “I’ll give you anything.” His fingers tightened at your neck and he slammed to the hilt, grinding in. 

“Anything?” He questioned, voice shaky with need. “Would you let me take you apart? Would you let me ruin your sweet cunt daily? Would you let me fuck a baby into you?” Your mind blanked and your voice pitched into a deep moan, a base desire possessing you. “Yes,” you nodded, breathless. “All of it,” you gasped, “anything for you, mate.” His eyes pinched shut, a low whine escaped somewhere from the pits of him. Mother above. His fingers squeezed your neck and he picked up the pace, fucking you faster. You shook with each impact of his hips, your breath leaving you in small whines. 

The scarred tips of his fingers worked your clit faster. “You’ll give me anything?” He questioned again, breathless, pace faltering as his own release tightened at the base of spine. “Come for me, my love, come with me.” Your breath caught at your throat as your cunt tightened impossibly around him and he groaned deep. You called his name as your climax hit and he keened a low whine, hips grinding into you, his seed painting your walls. 

He released your throat and gave a shaky laugh as he grasped your chin to find your mouth. The kiss was utterly depraved and your walls fluttered again, making him groan into your mouth. You pulled back and your eyes found his over your shoulder. “A baby, huh?” You spoke, voice a little wobbly. He wanted to shrink under the weight of your gaze, the question there. “Not yet,” he spoke softly, “but if you do decide to gift me with a child, I’ll be the luckiest male alive.” You smiled and kissed him, softer this time, heart singing at the promise there.  

He pulled out of you and let you collapse against the bed, rolling over to rest at your back. His eyes found your cunt and he watched with rapt obsession as his release leaked from you. You traced his gaze and a laugh escaped you. “Come here, my love,” you spoke softly, opening your arms. “I want to get some rest before you go feral again.”

He smiled, laughing lightly before crawling up the bed to where you awaited him. He settled into your embrace, head resting on your chest while his restless fingers began idly tracing the skin of your arm. Your fingers set to combing through the strands of his hair and his eyes closed, pleased with gentle intimacy of the action. “I love you,” he spoke softly, exhaustion beginning to creep in on him. You smiled, fingers trailing to his back, caressing the skin at the base of his wing. “As I love you,” you whispered, “more than anything.” He hummed and nuzzled to the skin of your chest as darkness overtook him. 

[fungusgnat444]

Random König headcanons

SFW and NSFW also (don’t worry if you just want SFW everything is labeled), mentions of anxiety/poor self worth, autistic coded König, nerd könig, angst if you squint, mentions of size difference, mentions of a gun kink(nothing too fucked up I promise), könig wears a buttplug lol, Slight breeding kink, mentions of creampie, assumed unprotected sex (wrap it up tho fr), König being a lil freak in general honestly, kinda sub König in some parts but also some dom, afab femme reader, descriptions of anatomy(mostly him but a little about reader too),reader works with könig, I think that’s it

Real name: Jacob Schröder

Age:26 (born September 30th because I said so)

home town: Badgastein (it’s so pretty and snowy☺️)

appearance: 6”10, deep auburn curly hair, very pale with freckles, large, aquailine nose, super thick eyelashes and eyebrows, blue/green eyes (like mostly blue but with a little green)

SFW

Although he love physical touch his favourite love language is quality time and I can not be convinced otherwise. At first you thought it was a little creepy how he would just silently sit with you basically doing nothing but he genuinely likes just spending time with you. Sees you alone in the mess hall? Even if he’s already eaten he’ll just sit and watch you eat in silence. Reading a book? He’ll sit you in his lap and read over your shoulder (secretly thinks most of the books you read are garbage but he doesn’t really care). He honestly just likes that you’re there, you don’t even have to do anything lol. Likes physical affection too but in a more subtle way usually. Sometimes cuddling and making out or whatever overwhelms him and makes him feel claustrophobic. Most of the time he just likes holding your hand or having his hand resting on your thigh or playing with your hair while you have your head in his lap. Loves it when you play with his hair too, usually puts him to sleep.

speaking of which this man can and will sleep anywhere. On days he’s not working he’ll probably have to have at least one nap or he’ll get all grumpy. As much as you feel bad for him when he’s tired you have to admit he always looks so cute. All puffy eyed and pouty. Often forces you to nap with him even if you tell him you’re not tired. If you just wait for him to fall asleep and try to leave he’s immediately awake and holding you so tight you almost feel like you’ll pass out. He could sleep through an air raid but if you try to leave he’s on high alert. Also I fear because he’s broken his nose so many times, this man’s snoring will make your house shake.

I can’t explain why but I feel like he’s a massive nerd. Like has a protective glass case filled with warhammer 40k figurines, probably spent his entire live savings on a pc, camps out at stores when a new game is getting released, rants at you about the Halo lore type of nerd. also he’s definitely forced you to watch Star Trek and hates that the next generation is your favourites. Is definitely a dungeon master So if you show even the slightest interest in dnd our boy is stuttering, blushing, trying to get you to join his dnd group. Bitte schatz, I came up with a whole new campaign just for you🥺 you’ll like it I swear.

Although it might be a little toxic I definitely think he can be overly protective/possessive of you. Honestly you kind of like it but you know he only acts this way because he’s insecure. Making you sit in his lap when he has friends over so they know not to look at you to much, making you wear his jacket if you get too much attention in public and glaring at any man who walks past. You always know he’s feeling jealous when his pupils are like pin pricks and he’s breathing like a bull with his fists clenched. He’s gotten into fights a few times so you usually have to calm him down. He’s always super embarrassed and apologetic after. Buying you some expensive pretty thing so you don’t hate him. Even if you don’t care or kinda like it he always feels guilty. He feels guilty a lot in general with you. That such a pretty sweet girl is stuck with him. As such he doesn’t take compliments very well. Usually clenching his jaw and furrowing his thick brows while he mutters something passive aggressive to himself, “Scheiß lügner…”. Although if you keep saying the compliment and giving him attention he’ll eventually start believing you. Blushing and struggling to look at you.

Probably takes him quite a while to feel comfortable showing you his full face or even telling you his real name. Even once you’ve already seen it sometimes he still hides his face on days he’s feeling particularly insecure. Once before you’d seen his face you asked one of his friends, horangi, about it. He said they’d known each other almost a decade and he’d only seen his face a few times, most of which were accidental. König had a pretty miserable time as a teenager. He only really bulked out when he was about 17, right before he joined the military. Believe it or not he was pretty scrawny for most of his life. Once he said he used to be built like a lamppost. Before the military he was generally quite quiet and timid. He still is almost always very quiet. This in combination with his more nerdy interests and the fact that talking to a pretty girl for too long gave him a nosebleed made him a pretty easy target for bullies. He was always shy about his appearance but in the early days of his military career his self esteem plummeted when he got a face full of shrapnel during a mission. Luckily they got him to a medic fast but there’s only so much they could do. He hates the scars. Hates the attention. You’re the only person who’s ever made him feel better about it. Kissing every scar, cooing at him while he cries into your chest after another shitty day. Tell him you’re proud of him and how handsome he is. Even if he doesn’t believe it, he at least feels better knowing you believe it at least.

NSFW

He has barely any experience but he fucks with such desperation that it never ceases to make your legs shake. Loves folding you into whatever position he wants and just spearing you like a fish in a barrel, unable to move or escape. Can get a little too rough sometimes when he’s lost in the moment but the moment he sees any form of discomfort from you he whispering soft apologies in your ear and slowing his pace till he’s balls deep just gently grinding against you while he kisses away your tears. As much as he loves treating you like a rag doll. Deep down all he wants is to satisfy you. Sometimes he won’t even fuck you he’ll just eat you out for a few hours like he’s digging for gold. Love tasting you more than anything else. Especially when you’re overstimulated and clutching his empty head between your soft thighs like you’re trying to crush him.

this man is hung like a god. It’s almost too big. Every time it’s a struggle for you to take it all. The struggle only makes it hotter for him. Loves it when you look up at him all teary eyed, pouting because you’re disappointed you can’t fit anymore in. He loves making a mess of you and he’s so fucking good at it. But he’s just as much a mess for you too. Whimpering and panting like a dog with your hands around his neck. Begging you to let him fill you up with yet another load.

I feel like he probably has a few kinks that are a little obscure. Like he loves eating you out through a pair of tights, hearing them rip loudly in his tight grip right before he impales you. Wearing a buttplug while he’s fucking you makes his brain turn to sawdust. Sloppily plunging into you in doggy and drooling on your sweaty back from above. Letting you ride him, telling him he’s not allowed to move while you hold the barrel of one of his handguns against his forehead or stuffed in his mouth (it’s unloaded of course, he’s not actually insane). If you surprise him by pulling the trigger, that little clicking noise will have him gasping shakily and his eyes rolling back. The noises he makes are absolutely whorish. So desperate and loud and involuntary.

he loves aftercare both giving and receiving. After sex he’s just as fragile as you are. Usually shaking and panting for a good while as he peppers you in thousands of kisses. Loves having a bath with you after. You laying on his chest while he washes your hair for you. Always asks you if he did a good job. He’s like a puppy after he’ll do anything you ask.

German translations: “bitte schatz” please sweetheart. “Scheiß Lügner” fucking liar

[double--blind]

(SPOILERS) Andrew and plausible deniability, OR: mfer doesn't wanna be held accountable for his actions

This has been churning in my head for a while (I am mentally ill 🥴), but a large part of the driving force behind Andy and his actions is his aversion to blame. He sorta shares this w/Ashley (she's got quite a few rants abt how things aren't her fault), but I believe Andrew takes it just a step further.

I've seen many say this before, but from the start of the game, you'll notice that even beyond normal moral quandaries, Andrew's first objection to any horrific action Ashley proposes is usually a variance of "what if we get caught?". He objects not bc her ideas are ethically repugnant, but bc they could be found out as having done them, and he knows rationally that others know they're bad. This goes as far back as childhood with the Nina incident. He fears punishment and the threat of prison more than he apparently worries about what his crimes might mean for him as a person or what they might mean for the people that might be affected by them (save him and Ashley). This doesn't mean he doesn't feel guilt or have nightmares abt them, but they're not his first priority. Trouble's a pain to deal with, and the dude's low-energy.

In fact, most of his guilt seems largely self-centered. Like, no exaggeration: if it isn't about either him or Ashley (which is, in a way, lowkey also about him), then he couldn't really care less. Do you recall him ever expressing worry or remorse on Nina's behalf? Mourning her? We think Ashley's the one w/empathy issues, but Andrew's in the same boat imo. Self-preservation and self-interest is all that's keeping him seemingly amiable enough for polite society, bc for the most part, he really couldn't be bothered.

In his dreams, the victims of their murders are just bodies: interchangeable, holding no more meaning beyond the fact that they're dead. Any corpse's limb will do to replace the one Ashley cooked—never mind that they may be from different people—bc they're all the same to him. Even Julia, sitting in her dorm room surrounded by evidence of Ashley's harassment, gets no sympathy from Andrew. For the most part, he elects to ignore it all, and regards Julia herself with a detached sorta nostalgia tinged in no small part with apathy.

img txt: You'll never see her again. And the fact that it doesn't really bother you, bothers you.

(The only things of notable worth from her were the colored pencils on her desk, which he promptly takes from her to give to Leyley instead, and isn't that just some crazy symbolism right there?)

His fear of punishment goes hand-in-hand with his desperate pursuit of plausible deniability. Everything he does, he does under certain self-imposed conditions. If it's Ashley's idea and he argues back, it doesn't matter in the end if he goes along with it, bc it was Ashley's idea in the first place. He's just there to make sure she doesn't get them in trouble, bc she needs him, bc he's gotta take care of her. Even if it's not her idea at all (e.g., killing the closet warden, killing the lady in room 302), it's still her fault, bc he did it for her, bc everything he does, he does for her.

Ashley's a manipulative, evil lil possessive gremlin w/a soul as black as tar, and Andy's a doormat, but don't think for a second that part of him doesn't use that dynamic a little to keep from reflecting on what he is. He suffocates under it, but he also relies on it. If there's any sort of plausible deniability available, he'll take it and run with it.

The truth of the matter is that they're both deeply toxic, warped individuals. The difference is that Ashley's owned up to it and quite frankly doesn't care. Andrew hasn't. He's the "normal" one.

Now, for the funky incest part (what we're all here for babyyyyy)—

We've all seen the flavor text abt the bed-sharing by now, right?

img txt: Oh yeah, you tooootally have nightmares as often as you claim.

We know for a fact that aside from some light teasing, maybe, Ashley would have no problem whatsoever with sharing a bed w/Andrew. Heck, she'll coax him into bed (demo) or climb onto the couch with him (ep 2) w/o any prompting from him whatsoever, just bc she feels like it. Andrew, apparently, can't do the same. He doesn't allow himself this intimacy of his own choosing, so he has to lie and pretend to get it if he wants it. He's greedy for her, too, but he can't let himself show it.

If something is sufficiently too intimate in his eyes, beyond anything he can excuse away for some reason or another, then he'll stop himself from doing it. Just like how he wouldn't let himself succumb to the urge of pulling Ashley into his arms to make her smile, but is willing to give her a hug when she asks for it in front of their parents.

He insists on the extra expense of two beds, and then cites his nightmares and panic attacks as the driving force behind crawling into bed w/her, bc then it isn't really his fault now, is it? He tried to stay away, after all. He did! He just didn't have a choice!

Lol

Andrew can't admit to wanting this—buries those feelings and thoughts as deep as he can so they fester and bleed, the repressed idiot—so he gives Ashley all the power to decide how close they get. It's in Ashley's hands. He's free of that hassle.

Which is why the post-sex vision, and Ashley's reaction to it, is so dangerous. @csg-iii made a good point about it in my last post:

img txt: I think the biggest point about "11" is that Andrew asks/begs Ashley for reassurance that it will never happen ("never say never"). It's a subtle admission that if she really wants it to happen, he knows he won't be able to resist his own urges. His only ""hope"" of avoiding going there is if Ashley doesn't want it.

Andrew, in absolving himself of this choice and putting it in Ashley's hands, shoots himself in the foot, bc what if Ashley goes the whole mile? Then the only real thing keeping his desires unrealized was the fact that they had never been voiced as an option before.

He doesn't want to think of himself as someone who'd bone his own sister. Forget being a cannibal, demon summoner, or a murderer; those titles were foisted upon him. This is too close to something real that he carries inside him; this isn't anything Ashley's buried in him, but rather something of his own invention. Something he'll definitely have to take responsibility for.

[giveafike]

kinda obsessed with the prompt of ben x fem tennis reader being together for a lil while and being the cutest couple , breaking up bc the distance hit them too hard after two straight months of different tournaments/locations, then seeing each other for the first time at a 1000 tournament, going out to dinner with the same group of people and end up going back to bens hotel room to clear the air and obvs end up in bed together realising they’re gonna have to get thru the distance cos they can’t be without each other now 😭

TLDR: tennisplayerfem!reader and ben break up bc you can't handle being away and then surprise, you can't handle being not together. Losers.

Word count + info: 10k. Am I mentally ill? This is supposed to be a blurb.. Dialogue (angst, texts, calls, conversation).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Breakup and kinda mean stuff said (nothing physical description wise). Otherwise, it's all good! (i think)

Azzie Notes ✚: SHOOT ME IN THE HEAD. AM I OKAY??? 10K?? ON A BLURB?? idrk what angst is fr chat lmk if i did that one fr idk....im a LOVER girl ok IDK HOW TO DO THIS SAD SHIT - in saying that, was part of my dialogue in this lwky..loosely based off of my ex...........maybe...

I fear I loved this prompt so bad and like...I love to yap..so...

Socials + Updates: twitter ( @azziegivesafike) - feel free to follow and msg me about non requests there, I'll be posting life updates, story + req updates and spoilers/teasers alongside other things, so it'd be nice to have a community over there!

————————————————————————

Shattered - B.T.S.

In the beginning, being with Ben is the kind of whirlwind you've only seen in movies, a connection that feels so natural, yet thrillingly unexpected. Well, in hindsight, that might've been a lie. It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but instead, a slow, magnetic pull that drew you together, like the tension building in a long rally. You met on the circuit, both hungry, ambitious, and dedicated to your own success. But from the start, Ben had this way of getting past your disciplined, guarded exterior with that relentless charm of his.

He’s everywhere, it seems—posting highlights from your matches on his stories, sneaking your name into press conferences, tagging you in his silly “lazy Saturday” shots where your game is always playing in the background. He flirts shamelessly, flashing that grin across the court, his voice lifting over the crowd to make some cheeky comment that leaves you stifling laughter. Your friends see it before you do: Ben is crazy about you, and soon, so is everyone else.

He flirted shamelessly and relentlessly, everywhere and anywhere, often catching you off guard in ways that left you flustered despite your best efforts to stay cool and professional. With that, you started to look out for the way his eyes would find yours in a crowd while you sat in the stands during his matches or how he would nudge you at practice with that easy, casual touch like he’s done it a thousand times before; like you belong by his side.

Once, when he's asked in an interview if he’d dedicated his recent win to anyone, he grins and looks straight across the room, making everyone laugh. “There’s someone special right now, but no need to say names, she knows.”

It’s sweet, funny and more than a little bold. Later, when you called him out for it over one of your first late-night calls, he shrugged, entirely unapologetic, telling you with that stupid drawl of his, “What? Ain’t no point hidin’ it. The world knows who my lucky charm is.”

Soon, it was you reaching out for him, your hand slipping onto his arm, leaning against him during walkouts, letting your barriers fall. And every time he catches your eye, every time he manages to make you smile, he looks at you like he’s won the lottery. His heart stammers a little each time you shove him playfully or roll your eyes at his antics. Whether it was on the bench or during changeovers, Ben would rest his hand gently on your lower back, a touch that makes you feel, just for a moment, like you're the only two people in the world.

When the rare break in your schedules comes around, you steal hours together. You grab a coffee, turning a "quick run" into a day spent together and wander around a city you barely know, or stumble upon a hidden café with pastries too flowery for your tastes. He made everything feel easier, like no matter how intense life gets, you’ll always have that balance with him. Around Ben, you can be softer, and more vulnerable; he brings out a side of you that isn’t just about winning and competing but about laughing, sharing, and letting go.

People noticed the way you look at each other, the easy affection that passes between you, the more daring and intimate PDA, sharing kisses and lingering stares. Soon, fans were shipping you openly, posting photos of you courtside, or whispering to each other when you lean close and murmur something that makes him laugh. On tour, you’re one of those “it” couples, a little slice of joy in the relentless pace of your careers. And in those early days, you both believe that together, you can take on anything. In those early days, you believed you could take on anything together. You and Ben were partners, equals, and even in the midst of a gruelling season, there had always been time for him, always a reason to smile. It felt perfect, like a love story you had stumbled into but were both entirely committed to.

But that honeymoon phase comes crashing down real quick.

As seasons shift and tournaments stretch across continents, the cracks start to show. At first, it’s just a few hours difference, but then come the miles and oceans, and the texts dwindled, conversations cut short, replaced by more missed calls than made and vague apologies. You both had tried, in every way you knew how. But eventually, the memories weren’t enough to bridge the distance. You’d catch yourself staying up just to wait for his call after practice, only to fall asleep disappointed, staring at a dark screen. And every time you woke up to a hastily sent sorry, something came up text, it felt like another tiny fracture.

Ben wasn’t the only one caught up in the chaos of your schedules; you had your own demands, too. The strain went both ways. In an attempt to keep things alive, you’d push yourself to keep up with his time zone, adding another city to your Clock app, setting alarms accordingly to his lunch and dinner times, staying awake far too late, eyes heavy as you sat alone in your hotel room, scrolling through old photos just to feel closer to him. When the call finally did come, your voice was barely more than a whisper, tired and distant, and Ben couldn't bear the exhaustion in your tone, his heart aching as he hushed you to sleep, meaning neither of you would stay on long.

It all piled up slowly, almost imperceptibly, until the weight felt crushing. Conversations became one-sided, it’s like chasing the sun itself, moments of silence replacing the laughter that had once felt endless, and that spark, the one that made you feel unstoppable together, felt further away with every day that passed.

Then came the day of your match, a game that should have been easy, one you’d normally have breezed through. But you were dragging, exhaustion wrapping itself around your every heavy, drooping step, and somewhere in the depths of your mind, a bitter thought took root:

If only he cared.

You knew it wasn’t his fault, but still, the frustration boiled over. Would things have felt different if you weren’t so alone in this? If you didn’t have to wonder when, or if, he’d remember to call? If he scheduled calls to your time for once? If he could just postpone everything for 20, 20 measly minutes for you?

A ball zips right by you, snapping you back to reality.

Lying in your hotel room that night, you stared at the ceiling, replaying the best moments of your time together like an old movie reel. In those moments, it had felt perfect. You’d believed you could take on the world, side by side, partners in everything. But now, with miles and silence separating you, you wondered if those memories were all that was left of what you once had.

But even with that ache, even with the emptiness filling the room, one thing is clear as day: loving Ben, for all its messiness, for all the distance and loneliness, had never felt like a mistake but God, was it hard. You pondered on those same irritating thoughts that itched at you until your fingers found your phone and hit the FaceTime Call button. Part of you wanted him to not pick up, knowing that you had nothing kind or sweet to say, but a small part of you wanted to dish back what he deserved.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice tense, worn. His drawl feels distant like he’s talking to you from across an ocean.

“Hey.” You can feel the iciness in your voice, colder than you intended.

“Long day?” he asks, though his expression is already tense, wary.

“Yeah. Almost lost today,” you say flatly.

Ben’s gaze flicks down. “I saw the score,” he says, his voice cautious. “Guess it was a tough match, babe.”

“It shouldn’t have been,” you snap. “But maybe it’s hard to focus when I’m barely sleeping… or constantly waiting for a text that never comes.”

He blinks, his eyes narrowing. “So this is on me?” The familiar accent is a little rougher around the edges. “You’re losin’ matches ‘cause I’m not callin’ you enough? That’s what you’re sayin’?”

“Don’t play dumb, Ben. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about” You feel the bitterness twisting in your chest. ““You’re barely here, Ben. Half the time, I don’t even know if we’re still together or if we’re just two people sending pointless messages every few hours. Half the time, it feels like I’m talking to a ghost.”

He lets out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “You think it’s any easier for me? I’ve got my own stuff, my own schedule, darlin'. I’ve got my career to think about too, you know, this ain't just about you.”

Your jaw tightens. “Yeah, well, at least when I'm on the court, I don’t exactly have the luxury of tuning you out, Ben. I’m not the one who forgets to call after saying I would. I don’t have time for half-assed texts and waiting around for you to call when you feel like it.”

“Oh, don’t go there,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “You know what it’s like. The fans, the interviews, the time spent on court-”

“Yeah, I get it, Ben. But last week, you bailed on a call to go sign autographs. Priorities, right?”

He takes a deep breath, visibly holding back. “C’mon, babe, you don’t mean that.”

But you press on, unable to stop yourself. “You’re too busy with whatever ‘big thing’ you have going on, right? Maybe if you cared enough to focus on your game instead of your ‘commitments,’ you wouldn’t have dropped that finals match. Just maybe.”

He flinches, his expression turning dark. “Oh, that's low from you, Y/N. You really wanna go there?”

“Yeah, I do,” you say, your voice unwavering.

He pauses, his face hardening. “If you were out here on the ATP tour, you’d understand how rough it really is. You wouldn't even get past a challenger. It ain’t the same league as the WTA.”

You laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “Oh, don’t even start with that. Rougher than the WTA? Is that supposed to make me feel better? Maybe come and join WTA then, you wouldn't manage it out here either, Ben.”

He snaps, his voice cutting like a whip. “You know how much I’m fightin’ to make a name for myself out here. Just ‘cause you got a few more shiny titles doesn’t mean you get to talk down to me like this.”

The sting of his words hits like a slap. Your face flushes, a mix of anger and hurt bubbling up. “So, that’s it? Just because I’ve actually earned my success, I’m some kind of… what? Nag?”

“I didn’t say that,” he shot back, voice tight, his eyes narrowing as he looked away. “But maybe you’re doin’ too much. Bein’ all… dramatic, blamin’ me for stuff I got no control over.”

“Right, okay, so I’m being dramatic,” you scoff, your voice edged with sarcasm. “I’m the one asking for too much because I want something real, something you clearly can’t give.”

He laughs, bitter and raw. “Maybe you just want too damn much.”

You feel the tears prickling behind your eyes, but you clench your jaw, holding yourself together by sheer force of will. Your voice trembles as you speak, the words thick with a pain you can’t contain. “I just want you to care, Ben, or at least pretend to care and make it believable. I want you to care enough to be here when it matters. But you’re so wrapped up in yourself, you don’t even see it.”

His face hardens, his jaw set, but his eyes hold a flicker of something unspoken. “You think I don’t care? I’m out here pushin’ myself every day, for us, for this future we’re supposed to be building 'n shit. But it’s like no matter what I do, it ain’t enough for you.”

A sharp knock sounds from his end, followed by muffled voices. He glances away, then back at you, irritation flaring in his eyes. “Look, I gotta go. Dad’s waitin’ on me; he already gave me an extra ten minutes to talk.”

You feel your heart twist, an ache of disappointment settling in. “Oh, of course,” you mutter, your voice dripping with bitterness. “Go ahead. I’m sure your training’s way more important than anything I have to say.”

He turns back, his eyes blazing with frustration. “Maybe it is right now,” he spits. “Talkin’ to you like this, all it’s doin’ is makin’ things worse. We're not getting anywhere like this-”

The words cut deeper than you expect, and you can barely hold back the surge of anger and heartbreak choking you. “Fine. Go, then. At least one of us can prioritise something.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he looks away. “You’re bein’ unfair, 'n you know it.”

“Am I?” you whisper, your voice tight and choked. “Or am I just done waiting for you to show up?”

You stare at each other, an endless silence stretching between you, sharp and seething, words too heavy to be unsaid. Then, with a frustrated shake of his head, he mutters, “I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you later. When you’re not actin’ like this.”

Before you could respond, he hung up, his face disappearing from your screen, leaving you alone with nothing but the cold light of your phone. Your hands shook as you stared at the blank screen, tears finally spilling over.

With trembling fingers, you took a breath, letting a cold, steely calm settle over you. You typed out a simple, blunt message, leaving no room for second-guessing, no room for soft words or explanations. Just the truth, as raw as you felt.

“We’re done. I can’t do this anymore, Ben. I’m sorry.”

Your thumb lingered for a second before hitting “send,” and as soon as the message went through, you blocked him on every platform, cutting off any way for him to respond, to apologise, to convince you otherwise.

But as you tossed your phone aside, a crack appeared in the calm you’d forced on yourself. The tears came suddenly, your breath hitching as a tidal wave of heartbreak surged through you. You buried your face in your hands, pressing your palms against your eyes as if you could somehow contain the emotions clawing their way to the surface. You tried to stay quiet, muffling the sound in the dark, but the weight was too much, every sob raw, grieving and heavy, pouring out the frustration, the loneliness, and the love you’d tried so hard to salvage.

By the time your tears subsided, you felt utterly drained, hollowed out in a way that made everything around you feel distant and surreal. The city lights flickered outside your window, the glow indifferent to the storm that had torn through you. And in that quiet, broken moment, with only the shadows as company, you lay there, letting the exhaustion seep through your bones until sleep claimed you.

When sleep finally came, it was restless, fractured. You tossed and turned, flashes of memories from better days with Ben haunting you, the sound of his laugh, the way he’d smile, gummy and wide, his nose scrunching with that easy confidence. You woke up more exhausted than when you’d closed your eyes, feeling like you hadn’t rested at all. But you forced yourself out of bed, pushing yourself through your pre-game routine, your emotions locked away, frozen under layers of determination.

As you walked onto the court, the crowd buzzed with excitement, but you barely registered it. You were a storm, calm on the surface but seething underneath. Every shot you took was hard and brutal, the ball slicing through the air with an intensity that made your opponent flinch, the impact echoing through the stadium. You played as if your life depended on it, your body moving with sharp, lethal precision.

Your serves were relentless, your groundstrokes vicious, each one faster, sharper, as if each shot were a way to expel the anger and hurt still simmering in your chest. The crowd murmured, noticing the shift in your energy, the way you were pushing yourself, almost recklessly. A couple of times, your shots zipped past your opponent’s hand, barely missing, almost daring her to try and reach for it - "try me". You were untouchable, unstoppable, playing like you had something to prove.

But there was no smile, no hint of joy in your movements, solely mechanical. The usual lightness in your footwork was gone, replaced by a cold, ruthless efficiency. You’d already decided: this match was yours. You weren’t here to give an inch, weren’t here to let any lingering emotions cloud your focus. The crowd might have wanted excitement, but you were giving them precision, a display of control and fury that left no room for doubt.

You won, of course. Your opponent barely had a chance. But as you walked off the court, sweat trickling down your brow, fists clenched, you felt no thrill in the victory. Just the dull ache that lingered, a hollow space where your lightness, your smile, used to be. The heat of the court only made your head throb. The applause faded into background noise as you strode away, head high, shoulders tense. You’d won, but it felt like a hollow victory. You had no one to text after your game, anyone to call you baby - you had done it to yourself, were you really that desperate for a man to validate you? You were sick of feeling this way, sick of the exhaustion, the anger, the loneliness that clung to you even after everything you’d given today. At least, for now, you’d proven something, to yourself, to him, even if he’d never know, or care.

In the month that followed, you threw yourself harshly into your schedule, determined to erase any trace of him from your routine, your heart. Matches, training, travel, interviews, photoshoots, more matches, each day bled into the next, filled with an almost mechanical sense of purpose. If you weren’t on the court, you were working out, perfecting your strokes, spending hours on serves and footwork. Anything to exhaust yourself to stop the thoughts from lingering too long. Your routine was relentless, your focus razor-sharp.

But even in this frenzy, despite it all, reminders of him still slipped through. You’d scroll through social media, and every so often, an ATP post would pop up: Ben at a tournament, Ben celebrating a point, Ben grinning with that easy charm that used to make your heart ache. He looked different now. His curls were longer, spilling out from over his sweaty headband, and his frame had hardened, leaner, with muscle that seemed to outline his strength in sharper lines. His chubby cheeks had slimmed down into something harder, replaced by the quiet confidence of someone who’d grown, adapted, maybe even suffered a little.

And you could almost feel it, the quaking, gaping pain of missing him, but you’d swallow it back down, pull yourself together, and look away.

Your own press conferences became something else entirely. You were more composed, a bit sharper with your words, confident in a way you hadn’t been before. Where you used to smile shyly or laugh softly, now you leaned in with humour, a hint of flirtation, your charm more self-assured. You handled reporters’ questions deftly, especially the ones that tried to pry about Ben. The same questions came up over and over:

“So, do you still keep in touch with Ben?”

Each time, you’d respond with a practised, cool smile. “Right now, I’ve got all the support I need from my team and the people I have with me.” You’d turn the conversation to your work, your skill, and your grind on the court, dismissing the topic with subtle elegance, always steering it back to your goals, your game, and your people.

Yet, away from the cameras, the facade cracked, if only slightly. Sometimes, after a long match or a particularly brutal day of training, you’d find yourself scrolling through your old photos or feeling tears prickling your eyes, this messy situation taking a bigger toll than you would like to admit.

In his hotel room, Ben watched your interviews alone, a faint crease between his brows. There you were, in all your brilliance, flashing a confident smile at the camera, handling the press with a wit and boldness that felt both familiar and strange. He could see the way you’d grown, the way you’d steeled yourself, and it stirred something in him, a pang he couldn’t ignore. It was like watching someone he knew intimately and yet… not at all. The way you answered questions about him, and your subtle redirection to your career and team, it stung. Maybe it was petty, but he missed the way you used to talk about him with such pride, with that lovestruck glow. He loved seeing how shy you would get at the sheer mention of his name. Your hair was different, your skin glowing, you had more confidence, even if it came off a bit cocky but he still felt like you were his, just as much as he was yours. Ben didn’t know how to reach out, didn’t know what he’d even say. There was a distance now, both physical and emotional, that seemed impossible to bridge. He’d scroll through his own phone sometimes, finding old messages, ones before distance got the better of you both, photos of the two of you, half-written scripts in his Notes app he couldn’t bring himself to deliver. If he flew out tonight to you, what would he even do after? He’d think of calling you, of reaching out somehow, but the memory of your last fight, the bitterness in your voice, the way you’d shut him out… it held him back.

One evening, as you sat alone in the players' lounge, your forehead pressed against the back of the sofa, you felt that familiar ache pulse through you, the one that came every time you thought of him. It was then that Coco came by, her familiar, steady presence filling the room as she settled down across from you, cross-legged on the seat in front of you. Over the past year, it was Ben that introduced you but, you and Coco had grown even closer, bound not just by shared victories and losses but by the pressures only someone like her could truly understand.

Coco tilted her head, her gaze warm but unwavering. “Alright,” she said, cutting through the silence. “What’s really going on? Are you… over him?”

You exhaled slowly, running a hand through your hair as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I wish I could say yes,” you murmured. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried to move on, focus on the game, on everything else, but… he’s still everywhere. Even when I’m doing well, even when I’m focused, it’s like… something’s missing.” Your voice dropped to barely a whisper. “It’s like I can’t fully shake him.”

Coco nodded, her expression both sympathetic and knowing. “I get it. You two had something real, something intense. But maybe this time apart is what you both need. I mean, look at you. You’re stronger now, on and off the court. Maybe that’s part of this whole journey, you know?”

You managed a faint smile, though your heart still felt heavy. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. It just… doesn’t always feel like enough.”

She reached out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me. If he’s the right guy, he’ll figure it out, too. Until then? Focus on your game. Focus on you.”

Her words stayed with you, offering a small but steady comfort in the days that followed. You have been throwing yourself into training, pouring everything into the sport, trying to find solace in each match and each moment of growth. Somewhere out there, he was doing the same, and maybe, just maybe, this was what was best.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t completely smother the small spark of hope, that someday, somehow, your paths might cross again.

It was similar in the men’s locker room, Ben slumped forward on the bench, his elbows propped on his knees as he stared blankly at the floor, holding an uncapped bottle of water. Frances Tiafoe, who’d been eyeing him from across the room, exchanged a knowing glance with Taylor Fritz before making his way over.

“Alright, bro, spill it,” Frances said, tossing a towel over his shoulder as he leaned in. “You’ve been lookin’ like you’re living in some sad dog for weeks.”

Ben gave him a sidelong glance. “There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

Taylor rolled his eyes as he joined them, settling down on the other side of Ben. “Come on, man. We’re not blind. Ever since she blocked you, you’ve been… different.”

Ben scoffed, looking away, his voice low. “She didn’t just block me, man. She… she threw down, real hard. Said some things I thought she’d never say.”

Frances let out a low whistle. “Was that rough, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ben said, rubbing a hand over his face, his frustration mingling with regret. “It all just blew up. We were on a call, talkin’ like usual, and suddenly… it was like everything we hadn’t said just came out. She starts throwin’ things at me about how I’m not there, like… like I don’t care enough or not workin' hard enough. And it pissed me off, you know? I work just as hard, and it’s not like I’m sittin’ around, right?”

Taylor nodded, leaning back against the lockers. “So, what’d you do?”

Ben shrugged, his expression pained. “I pushed back, told her she couldn’t keep actin’ like she’s the only one workin’ for this. Told her ATP is just as tough, maybe even more competitive. Didn’t mean it that way, but she took it wrong. She thought I was tryin’ to downplay her game.”

Frances shook his head, giving Ben a sympathetic look. “Man, she must’ve felt hurt.”

“Yeah,” Ben muttered, a bitter laugh escaping him. “And next thing I know, I get this text. ‘This isn’t workin', we’re done.’ Blocked me on everything. Cold as ice, man. It’s like she flipped a switch, just… shut me out completely, as easy as shuttin' a door.”

Frances gave him a gentle nudge. “You still care about her?”

Ben’s gaze softened, a faint smile breaking through his frustration. “Yeah, man. She’s… she’s my girl. Even if she’s not my girl right now, you know?”

Taylor chuckled, nodding. “So, what’re you gonna do about it? Sit around here moping, or actually make a move?”

Ben sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What am I supposed to do? She’s made it pretty clear she’s done with me.”

Frances grinned, crossing his arms. “Bro, just ‘cause she blocked you and sent a text after you called her game easy, doesn’t mean it’s over. She’s mad, yeah, but she’s probably missin’ you just as much. You just gotta show her you’re willin’ to do what it takes.”

Taylor nodded in agreement, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “And it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture, man. Sometimes, it’s the small things. Something to let her know you’re still thinkin’ of her, still care. You know where we're at next, right?”

Ben chuckled, shaking his head. “And do what? Just show up at her hotel room? She’s liable to call cops on my ass for that shit, bro.”

Frances laughed, shrugging. “So what? At least she’ll know you tried! Don't go doin' that though. Look, I’ve been with my girl for years now, and sometimes, you gotta be willing to look like a fool to show her you care.”

Ben leaned back, their words sinking in. He could still feel the sting of the things she’d said, the accusations she’d thrown at him like he didn’t care, didn’t work just as hard. But he couldn’t deny that he’d made mistakes, too. He’d let his pride get in the way, said things he regretted, and let the frustration of it all get the better of him.

Frances nudged him again, his grin widening. “Think about it, man. You got two choices: sit here, feeling sorry for yourself until she finds some other guy, or actually do something about it and get her back, even if that means standing in the rain with a fuckin' speaker.”

Ben finally cracked a smile, looking between his friends. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

“Hey, maybe,” Taylor said with a shrug. “But at least we got girlfriends. And you? You got a chance to get yours back. Just gotta decide if she’s worth it.”

Ben sat there, mulling over their words as a new determination started to burn within him. Maybe he didn’t have all the answers, and maybe there was a lot he’d have to figure out. But if there was even a chance to fix things, to bridge that gap that felt so wide, he wasn’t about to let his pride hold him back.

As he left the locker room that night, he felt a resolve solidify within him. He’d find a way to reach out, to let her know that no matter how far apart they were, she was still the one he wanted. Because when it came down to it, she was worth every bit of the fight.

A week went by before a 1000 game flew in, and both ATP and WTA were present if not, nearby for the games. You couldn't care less what was at stake, anything was a win if it kept you occupied. The courts were almost empty, shadows lengthening as the sun beamed high above. You bounced the ball steadily, the rhythm calm, your focus laser-sharp. The only sounds were the muted thud of your shoes on the court, and your breath falling into sync with the beat of your earbuds. Nothing but you, the court, and the quiet.

But then, that voice broke through.

"Aw, c'mon, man!" A laugh, deep and full of that unmistakable Southern drawl. Your grip faltered, the ball hovering mid-toss. That laugh, it was a sound you hadn’t let yourself think about for months, one that held too much of him.

Ben.

Your pulse jolted, the memories flooding back, warmth and bitterness tangled in the knots of your chest. You gritted your teeth, tossing the ball high before slamming it against the court, the crack of impact sharp in the quiet. It almost felt satisfying, like you could obliterate the tension he brought, shatter it with sheer force.

Almost.

You readied another serve, the ball bouncing harder than necessary as you forced yourself not to look. But you could feel his gaze, that familiar weight of his eyes lingering on you. The pull was magnetic, almost maddening, and despite every ounce of resolve you’d built up, your gaze betrayed you, slipping over to catch a glimpse of him.

Ben, laughing with Taylor, curls tousled longer than before, his hoodie slung carelessly over those familiar, ridiculous short shorts. The same hoodie you'd worn too many times to count, drowning in its warmth during late-night snack runs and lazy Sundays. The sight tugged painfully, a cruel reminder of the little things you’d pushed down, tried to forget.

He caught you looking, and his laughter faded, his gaze holding yours for just a second too long. You gripped the ball tighter, the ache settling heavy, and forced yourself to turn away, channelling the flurry of memories into another sharp serve, a fierce crack reverberating across the court. You didn’t look back again.

Hours later, your body was tired, your mind a bit clearer. You were scrolling through your phone in the lounge, zoning out, when Coco dropped down beside you with that familiar, mischievous grin.

"Hey, you!" She nudged you, hands on her hips.

You eyed her warily. "What’s up, Coco? Awfully perky for...5:30p.m."

“We’re having dinner tonight. Big group. Wanna come?” Her tone was casual, a little too casual.

Your guard went up immediately as you dropped your phone to your lap. “Who’s ‘we all’?”

Coco shrugged, twirling a loose curl around her finger. “Me, Frances, Arthur… maybe another WTA girl or two. Just a fun little dinner. Nothing formal.”

You narrowed your eyes, reading the glint of mischief in hers. "Coco, don’t mess with me. He's not gonna be there, right?"

She tilted her head, pretending to look innocent, but the sly smile gave her away. "Well… he might show up, but that's on his own accord. I didn't mention anything to Ben and it’s not like anyone’s setting anything up! It’s just dinner."

Your stomach twisted, a sigh slipping from your lips as you looked away. “I don’t think so. Not after… everything.” Your voice softened the weight of old arguments and unsaid things hanging between the words.

Coco’s face softened, her hand finding your shoulder. “Look, I’m not saying you have to sit next to him or anything. It’s a big table. You can stay on the opposite end and ignore him if that’s what you need. But everyone misses you, it’s been ages since we all got together. We all need to see your pretty face off the court too, ya know?”

You hesitated, rolling your eyes, the ache of missing them settling somewhere deep, the sense of family you hadn’t felt in months tugging at you. After a long pause, you finally nodded, rolling your shoulders back as if bracing for a match. “Fine. But I’m serious, Coco, no funny business. If he starts anything, I’m out.”

Coco grinned, throwing her arm around you. “Girl, trust me. If anything, you’ll be giving him the funny looks. Just friends, no drama. Now, let’s go get you out of those sweats.”

Meanwhile, in the locker room across the court, Ben was doing his best to act indifferent as Frances nudged him for the third time.

"C'mon, man!" Frances said, leaning against the lockers with a knowing grin. "So you are coming to this dinner tonight, right? Don't make me beg again, I'll start singing.”

Ben tried to play it cool, leaning back with his arms crossed. “I don’t know, man. You really think it’s a good idea?”

Frances rolled his eyes. “Look, you’ve been moping for months. She’s not gonna make a scene in public, and especially not with all of us, and who knows? Maybe she’ll talk to you, be all civil. It’s worth a shot.”

Ben let out a huff, rubbing the back of his neck. “Civil? You remember the last time we spoke, right? She has me blocked on everything.”

Taylor, stretching nearby, smirked and chimed in. “Man, you got nothin’ to lose. At the very least, you’ll see her. I saw how you were after you caught a glimpse of her training earlier. Besides, Frances and Coco will keep her from killin’ you.”

“Kay, thanks,” Ben muttered, though a flicker of hope sparked under the sarcasm. He didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t shake the longing to see her again, to maybe fix even a sliver of what had been broken.

Taylor nudged him, grinning. “Hey, listen, if I wasn’t taking Morgan out tonight, I’d be there just for moral support. But hey, maybe next time it’ll be a double date. Me, you, Morgan and your soon-to-be girlfriend, just like old times.”

Ben shook his head, the thought both terrifying and oddly thrilling. “You’re jokin’, right? She’d probably throw her drink at me before she’d sit through a double date.”

“Only if you act like an idiot,” Frances pointed out, laughing. “Just be yourself, man. You can handle the heat on the court, you can handle this. And maybe tonight’ll be the thing that finally breaks the ice.”

Ben sighed, running a hand over his face before finally surrendering. “Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll go. But Frances, don’t expect me to be all… chatty.”

Frances clapped him on the back, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. “Yeah, you say that now. But I know how you get around her, man. Just don’t chicken out. Remember, we got your back.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile nervously, feeling a strange mix of dread and anticipation tighten in his chest. He wasn’t sure if this dinner would be a chance at redemption or just a painful reminder of how far they’d drifted, but one thing was clear, he was tired of hiding from whatever was left between them.

You walk into the restaurant and let Coco lead you to a long table, feeling an odd mix of nerves and determination fluttering in your stomach. Your outfit is cute but simple, just a sweater and leggings; just enough effort to feel put together without trying too hard. You take a seat between Coco and Arthur Fils, with Frances across from you. There’s an empty chair across from Arthur, and for some reason, that empty space makes your heart beat a little faster, feeling torn between wanting and avoiding Ben there.

As everyone settles in, you catch Coco’s eye and mutter, “Please tell me he’s not actually coming.” She just shrugs with an easy smile.

Moments later, as the group banters along, about to order drinks, Ben strolls in, catching you entirely off-guard. He’s slightly out of breath, apologising to the group with that familiar grin, explaining he’s late because he’d just finished showering after practice. You can’t help it, you nudge Coco under the table, whispering through gritted teeth, a frustrated, “Great.”

Coco just gives him a casual greeting, and you force yourself to turn back to the table, focusing your attention on ordering a glass of wine, pretending not to notice him as he takes that empty seat across from Arthur, just barely within your view, diagonally. But as he sits down, you feel his eyes on you, and for a brief moment, you glance up and catch him staring, his face almost dazed.

You’re caught off-guard by the look in his eyes. His breath seems to hitch, his big brown eyes wide and you can see a faint blush creeping up his neck as he stares at you, almost like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. There’s a softness in his expression that you weren’t prepared for, a kind of awe that makes your stomach twist with memories and longing. But just as quickly, you look away, turning your attention to your wine as Frances elbows Ben with a teasing hiss, “Be normal, man.”

Throughout the night, you manage to keep to yourself, mostly talking to the other WTA players or Arthur whenever he cracks a joke. You keep Ben at the edge of your vision, resolute in ignoring the way his gaze keeps drifting back to you.

Every once in a while, Ben attempts to draw you into the conversation, maybe a lighthearted comment or a direct question, but each time, you meet his gaze with a steely look, making it clear with just one glance that you’re not interested. When he tries again, you let your eyes meet his for a moment, long enough to show him you’re serious before turning away, cutting off his effort entirely, almost to say "not interested". Across the table, Frances raises his brows, murmuring with a barely hidden smirk, “Damn, she is good at this,” as Ben slouches slightly, clearly trying not to look embarrassed.

As dinner winds down, the plates are cleared away, and you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment alone. Inside, you take a deep breath, facing yourself in the mirror. You’d been bracing yourself for tonight, but nothing quite prepared you for how it would feel to see him sitting right there, looking at you with those big sweet brown eyes and a pout, filled with that same soft pleading that used to make you melt.

But tonight, all it did was remind you of those late nights waiting by your phone, checking it over and over for messages that came slower and slower until they just…stopped. It reminds you of the countless hours wondering if you mattered as much as you thought you did, replaying his empty promises and half-hearted reassurances that seemed to fade with each passing day. He couldn't expect you to take him back with a pout and some half-assed joke. But damn, was it a good attempt, he knew how to make you crumble, even if it wasn't his sole intention.

You force yourself to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you look in the bathroom mirror examining yourself with a sigh, applying a bit of lip balm with fingers that tremble just slightly. Anything to distract yourself, to remind yourself that you’re strong enough to face this without breaking, reminding yourself to keep that mask on. You straighten your posture, determined to push all those memories back down where they belong, buried.

But just as you step out of the bathroom, Ben is standing right there, leaning against the wall as if he’d been waiting for you. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours, and he opens his mouth, his voice just a whisper. “Can we…talk? Just the two of us?”

The look he gives you, hopeful, no, desperate, stirs something deep inside you, and you clench your jaw, wanting to say no, wanting to walk away without a second thought. But as much as you’d like to ignore it, part of you still aches for some kind of closure, maybe even just one honest conversation.

With a reluctant sigh, you nod. “Fine. Outside.”

As you head out the restaurant’s door, you quickly fire off a text to Coco:

me n Ben talking outside. brb.

You stuff your phone back into your bag, clutching it tightly to your shoulder as you step into the cool night air. Wrapping your arms under your chest, you try to keep yourself shielded from more than just the chilling breeze.

Ben falls into step beside you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. There’s a moment of silence as you both find your footing, the quiet thick with everything that’s been left unsaid. You glance sideways, catching him opening his mouth like he’s about to say something, only to close it, his shoulders shifting awkwardly.

“So… how’s the tournament going for you?” he starts, his tone casual, a little too casual.

You blink, trying not to roll your eyes, feeling the irritation growing. Really? But you bite back and just sternly say, “Ben.”

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing up at the streetlights overhead. “Sorry, yeah, that was- uh, okay.” He lets out a breath and shuffles closer, his voice almost a murmur. “I just… I wanna make this right. Another chance- Just thought maybe… you know, talkin’ would be easier if…”

“Ben, stop.” You sigh, tightening your grip on your bag strap. “Stop being weird. Just… just say what you have to say, and let’s get this over with. Let's not make this longer than it needs to be, I've got shit to do tomorrow.”

He glances at you, brows knitting together. For a second, he looks almost frustrated, like he��s holding back something sharper, something rougher. But he lets it pass, letting out a long, resigned breath. “Fine. I’ll just ask one thing.”

You arch an eyebrow, scepticism thick in your voice. “One question. Shoot.”

His voice comes out softer, edged with a hesitant curiosity as if he knows it’s a stupid question but can’t help but ask. “What hotel you stayin’ at?”

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. “The Merrion.”

His eyes widen slightly, a small, stupid smile breaking on his face. “No way… me too.”

You sigh, looking up at the night sky, feeling the inevitability of whatever this night is becoming. Of course, he’s at the same hotel. Only Ben could make the universe align like this. And only Ben would think of a stupid question like that. He shifts his weight, stepping closer, his gaze steady.

“Look,” he starts, “it’s just a short walk back, twenty minutes or so. Just… give me that time. Just enough to walk back. Let me talk. And then you can go to your room and go to bed. How 'bout it?”

There’s a hopeful edge in his voice that you can’t ignore, and for a moment, your resolve falters. It’s ridiculous, this is exactly the sort of thing he would come up with, some half-baked plan to get you to keep listening, to keep him around just a little longer. You want to roll your eyes, to brush him off, but something about the way he’s looking at you, those earnest, brown eyes so damn full of longing, makes you sigh.

“Fine,” you mutter. “But if you get weird again, I’m out. No small talk, you know how much I hate it.”

A small grin creeps onto his face, and he falls into step beside you, a little closer than necessary, his arm brushing against yours as you start down the quiet street. For a minute, he doesn’t say anything, just walks alongside you, letting the silence settle around you both. But then, in that familiar southern drawl, his voice comes softer.

“Y’know, I've been thinkin’ ‘bout us a lot… probably more than I should.”

You keep your eyes on the sidewalk ahead, willing yourself to stay unmoved. “And?”

He swallows, his gaze tracing your profile, softening with each word. “I messed up,” he admits. “I know I did. I shoulda… been there more, answered more, I dunno. Shoulda been better at handlin’ it.”

You nod slightly, keeping your face blank. “Mhm, you should've.”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his expression, but he doesn’t let it throw him off. “You think I didn’t feel it too? That whole time, it felt like- hell, like I was losin’ you, like somethin’ was slippin’ right outta my hands, and I couldn’t do nothin’ to stop it.”

You feel the tension in your shoulders loosen just a fraction, though you keep your arms folded as a kind of armour. His words settle into the silence, raw and rough, and you can feel him glancing over, waiting for some kind of response. But you keep your gaze forward, biting back the little stirrings of emotion that are beginning to creep in.

He keeps talking, voice low and steady, drawing you in without giving you a chance to look away. “I’m not tryin’ to make excuses, alright? I know I coulda tried harder. But it’s like… the more I tried, the harder it got. The distance, the time zones, the schedules… it all just made me feel like I couldn’t keep up. And I just didn't know how to juggle it and that's my fault.”

You shake your head slightly, finally glancing over at him, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corner of your mouth. “So this is your way of apologising?”

He laughs, a little sheepish. “Guess I’m not real good at it, huh?” He nudges you with his shoulder, a familiar, easy gesture that makes your arms slowly loosen. His hand brushes your arm, just for a second, and a warmth blooms where his fingers graze your skin as if your body’s memory of him can’t help but respond.

“Look,” he says, his voice dipping softer, “I just… I miss you so much. Like hell.”

The honesty in his tone hits you hard, unravelling the cold exterior you’ve worked so hard to keep up. He keeps his eyes on you, watching your face carefully as if gauging your reaction. You feel your resolve slipping even more, your arms slowly falling to your sides, your heart aching as you fight against the wave of warmth that’s threatening to break through.

“Ben…” you start, barely a whisper, but you don’t know what to say, feeling torn.

He moves a little closer, his eyes wide, pleading, like he’s trying to hold onto every inch of you he can. “I know I messed up, okay? But I don’t wanna lose you. Not for good. Please, Y/N. Give me one more chance, you won't regret it 'n if I fuck up bad, you can do whatever, however; I deserve it but please. Just one more chance.”

You press your lips tight together, feeling your heart tighten as his words sink in, as he stands there looking at you with that same vulnerability you’d once fallen in love with. For a second, you forget the hurt, the sleepless nights, and you’re left with just him, the version of him that’s open, sincere, the Ben you’d once held so close.

The walk to the hotel stretches out as he keeps talking, spilling out and laying his heart bare with that easy, boyish charm that only he can pull off, and little by little, you feel your icy exterior start to melt. He talks about his time away from you, how he admired you from videos, watched highlight reels, his endless hours at night going through photos and texts; the whole lot. He cracks a joke, and despite yourself, you smile, trying to hide it but failing. He nudges you again, grinning as he sees the hint of laughter breaking through your guard.

He apologises over and over, more earnestly each time, his voice steady and low, and you can hear the regret, the guilt, the need to make things right. By the time you reach the hotel entrance, you’re feeling something dangerously close to hope, your heart betraying you, making it harder and harder to keep up the facade.

You glance over at him, catching the way his eyes soften as he looks at you as if you’re the only thing he can see. He’s staring, the blush from earlier creeping back up his neck, and when his hand brushes yours one last time, you don’t pull away.

You stand just outside the hotel, a faint chill brushing past as the streetlights cast a warm glow around you. You shift on your feet, glancing up at him, your eyes soft but determined.

“Can I talk?” you ask, breaking the quiet, your voice barely above a whisper. The first thing you had actually said this entire time.

Ben raises an eyebrow, leaning in with a playful smirk. “Talk? What else have we been doin’ for the last twenty minutes, girl?”

You roll your eyes and reach out to smack his arm, earning a chuckle from him. “Fine then. Can we go up to your room?” you add, a small, daring smile tugging at your lips.

Ben’s eyebrow quirks higher. “My room, huh?” His gaze narrows, teasing you with that familiar glint. “What exactly ya got planned, sweetheart?”

You swat him again, harder this time, and he laughs, raising his hands in mock defence. But then you drop the smile, your voice softer. “I wanna talk about what I did, Ben. I messed up too.”

The teasing fades from his expression as he studies your face, searching. After a pause, he nods and gestures toward the lobby. “Alright, then. Let’s go talk.”

In the elevator, silence hangs thick in the air, tension as familiar as it is unspoken. You don't even notice, spending your time stilling your breath and running through everything you want to apologise for. When you reach his room, you head over to the small couch by the window and settle in, tucking your legs under you and giving him a steady look.

“Ya gettin’ comfortable already?” he jokes, leaning against the wall, his eyes dancing with that old spark that makes you ache.

You try not to smile, steeling yourself for your confessional. “Can you be serious for a minute?”

His smile fades as he walks over, sitting across from you, his gaze intense and focused. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you’ve held back.

“I shouldn’t have put so many expectations on you,” you begin, your voice wavering. “You’ve got your own life, your own competitions, your own dreams. All this constant travelling, the different time zones… it’s not fair to expect you to be there every time I needed you at the drop of a hat. You get burnt out too- God. I never even asked how you were before I'd launch into my own day.”

You bite your lip, blinking back tears as they start to blur your vision. “I should’ve known better. I should’ve been more understanding, given you more grace.” Your voice catches, barely a whisper now. “And what I said… on that call… it was cruel, Ben. I was mean and unfair, and you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it. At all. I wouldn't want myself back after all I had said and done.”

As a tear slips down your cheek, Ben’s face softens, and he reaches out without hesitation, his hands cupping your face as he brushes the tear away. His thumb lingers on your skin, his gaze is unwavering, and then he leans forward, pressing the gentlest kiss to your temple, another to your forehead, and a final one at the crown of your head, his hand resting tenderly against your hair.

You let out a shuddered breath, your hands covering his as you finally let everything pour out. “I miss you so much,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I miss everything about you… the way you laugh, your ridiculous voice…” Another tear rolls down, and you don’t try to hold back. “I miss the way you’d talk about cars or food for ages, and you’d make everything feel so normal, even when my life was a mess. Without you, it’s like this haze I can’t shake. I just… I miss you. I barely recognise myself these days.”

Your body shakes with the sobs you’ve tried so hard to bury, and Ben doesn’t hesitate. He pulls you close, wrapping you in his arms like he could shield you from all the pain, all the regret. He holds you there, one hand smoothing over your hair, his lips pressing soft, tender kisses to your forehead and cheeks, murmuring gentle words against your skin.

“S’all right, darlin’,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. I’m right here with you.”

You cling to him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, as his hands trace soothing circles along your back. Your sobs gradually quiet, but your breaths are still shaky, each exhale unsteady.

“I’m so sorry, Ben,” you manage, voice barely audible.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Hey now,” he murmurs, his tone warm and grounding. “We both made mistakes. Ain’t just on you, alright? Takes two to mess up, but it takes two to fix it too. We can fix, can't we?”

You nod, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, feeling a little of the weight lift, softened by his words.

Ben tilts your head to hold your gaze, his own eyes glassy. “Can’t tell ya how many times I thought about callin’ ya or flying to ya,” he admits, his voice low. “How many times I’d pull up your name, wonderin’ what you’d say if I told ya all the things I wished I’d said. But I was… hell, I was scared, darlin’. Thought maybe I’d screwed up too bad, and you’d moved on.”

You shake your head, a small, breathy laugh escaping. “I couldn’t...I could never.”

He strokes your hair gently, his lips brushing your forehead once more. “Guess we’re both a couple of fools then, huh?”

You laugh softly, the sound wet and trembling as he pulls you back into his arms. You lean into him, letting yourself feel the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart, grounding you. Wrapped in the quiet, tangled together, you both hold on a little tighter, feeling the rawness of your honesty and the comfort of finally, finally being close again. In the safety of his arms, you feel, for the first time in so long, a sense of peace, letting the unspoken words settle around you like a quiet promise.

Ben’s hand rests on your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles as he learns your face all over again, making your heart flutter. His fingers move slowly, grazing down to your jaw, then up again, threading into your hair. You let your eyes close for a moment, his gentle touch working its way through the tension of the night, and a small, contented sigh escapes you. For the first time in weeks, you feel relaxed and content.

“Gettin’ comfortable, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, though there’s a warmth in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He leans in, giving one final push to a stray strand of your hair before tilting his head toward the bed across the room. “C’mon, darlin’. This couch is barely holdin’ us together.”

You hesitate, but Ben’s already moving, holding out his hand as he stands up. His grip is strong, guiding you as you follow him to the bed, and he lets out a soft chuckle as you settle beside him. His arm drapes around you, pulling you close as you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against you. The warmth is so consuming, cocooning you immediately.

Ben smiles down at you, a playful glint in his eye, and as his fingers find your hair again, he starts twirling a strand between his fingers. “So,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on the top of your head, “ya still gonna keep me blocked, huh?”

You roll your eyes, smirking. “Fine,” you reply, unlocking your phone with a playful huff. You find his name, well, technically his new contact name since you’d deleted him in a fit of anger, and type a single white heart emoji, pressing send.

The vibration of his phone buzzes beside him, and he pulls it out with a grin, holding up the glowing screen. “There it is. Knew ya couldn’t resist me,” he says, laughing as he pulls you in close as he kisses your temple.

But just as you relax against him, you notice a missed notification. It’s a text from Coco, her reply to your earlier message asking where she’d disappeared to after dinner. You hesitate, then, instead of texting back, you tap the Facetime icon, feeling a strange urge to share this quiet moment, finding words couldn't suffice, nor were you in the mood to type out a lengthy paragraph.

The call connects, and Coco’s face appears, a gasp escaping her as she spots you two tangled up in Ben’s bed, nestled together with his arm around you.

“Oh my god! Yes!” she cheers, loud enough to make Ben chuckle. You hear laughter and cheers in the background too, and Coco turns the camera, revealing the whole dinner table watching with knowing smiles.

"Coco, this was a set-up plan, huh?" you giggle as you see the entire friend group on the other end.

"Somewhat, but blame Morgan and Taylor, not me. They did all that," she throws the blame as she points the camera over to them. Frances, Morgan and Taylor wave and Frances yells “Look at Ben! Already got her in bed, huh?”

Ben rolls his eyes, but a faint blush colours his cheeks. He pulls you closer, his hand resting protectively around your shoulders as he grins.

“Hey now,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “This one’s special. Ain’t like any other. My lucky charm.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, and you’re so focused on him that you barely notice Coco and the others making gagging noises before Ben reaches out, ending the call on your phone with a smirk. Then he turns back to you, his eyes soft, filled with something that feels dangerously like forever.

He leans in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender, each second lingering with quiet promises. And in the warmth of his arms, your heart finally feels at home, exactly where it belongs.

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠- 𝐣.𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you waking up in jack’s arms makes him realize he needs to do something soon

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a lil kiss 💋, just fluff mainly

𝐚/𝐧: was half asleep while writing this so it might be rough

jack had his hands draped around waist, while you were laying on his chest. your head was snuggled in the crook of his neck, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine.

you were fast asleep, however he was definitely not. he was supposed to napping with you in his trailer, but he couldn’t sleep. he has something, or someone, on his mind. 

you and jack were filming Scream VI together and played love interests. it was fine at first, but as filming progressed, jacks feeling for you only grew. there was only one problem. you and jack were friends.

well, sorta. 

you did everything a normal couple would do, but just as buddies. hence why you were cuddled up together on the couch in his trailer. no one really knew why you weren’t officially together, for you would make such a good couple.

he wanted to call you his. it was silly, the only thing keeping you from formally dating was a label, and yet he craved it, more than anything.

he looked down at you, your glowed from the sunlight peeking through the windows. you looked angelic, and he wondered how a person could be this pretty. god, he hated himself for being so fearful of rejection. 

unbeknownst to him, you felt the same way. you wished you weren’t such a chicken, and could grow a pair and ask him out. how was it possible to want a person this bad?

you were a match made in heaven, as jenna liked to say. she was your costar, and your best friend. you told her all about your interactions with jack, the both of you giggling like little schoolgirls. you had given him the codename “strawberry,” so you could talk about him without others knowing his identity. 

jenna saw the spark in your eyes when you talked to him, and your pupils dilated in size every time you were around him. you were in love with a man you weren’t even dating. 

your body twisted and turned as you slowly woke up. you blink away the sleepiness and cautiously looked up at jack to see if he had waken up yet.  

“good morning, sleepyhead.” jack says. you smile at eachother, and you sat up, the shared blanket slipping off of your silky skin.

“how long have you been awake?” you asked, hoping you didn’t keep him glued in place while you were fast asleep. your sleepy voice made jack swoon, and he held back from doing anything he would later regret. 

“not long, i just woke up.” he lies straight through his teeth in order to make you feel okay. you just nod and pat around the cushions, searching for your phone. you find it smooshed in between two pillows, and you check the clock. it was two twenty three.

“what time do we need to be back on set by?” you curiously ask him.

“three pm, i think. but we need to go to hair and makeup at two thirty.”

you flash him the time, and hop out of bed. you and him take short walk to the costume department. there was two separate trailers, and all of the actors randomly assigned to one at the beginning of filming. you and jack got split up, which sucked, but the system was supposed to help with efficiency and speed. 

you part ways, and both get into full costume. your makeup artist was around your age, so you enjoyed chatting with her. after getting ready, you both meet up on set.

you and him weren’t in a lot of scenes today, so you mainly just played game pigeon together. the day was spent competing and laughing together, and you wouldn’t have changed anything.

however, the whole day jack had plastered on a fake smile. in reality, he was stressed to beyond compare. he was going to ask you out by the end of the day. 

seeing you all wrapped up in his arms this afternoon made him realize that he wants to start a future with you. so while his was alone, he called his buddy, romeo, and sent him to the store to get flowers. he made romeo send photos of every bouquet in the shop, so jack could pick out the perfect bundle for you. 

it was now dark out, and filming for today was over. you and him already had changed back into your normal clothes, and you both went back to your personal trailers to grab your keys. you separated and agreed to meet back up in the, now empty, parking lot. 

what you didn’t know was that romeo was waiting in jacks trailer, with the flowers that jack would use to ask you out. jacks heart raced as he rushed to the parking lot. he wanted to be there first, just to see your reaction when you saw him standing with a colorful section of gorgeous flowers in his hands.

he anxiously waited for you, nervously popping his fingers. he then saw you walking up to him, the moonlight illuminating your features. you approached him, getting closer and closer.

he handed you the flowers, and you smiled brighter than ever, wondering what they were for.

“y/n, i’ve loved spending countless hours with you over the past few months, and there is nothing i want more in this world than to be your boyfriend. will you please go out with me?” he lovingly asked.

you stood on your tiptoes and cupped his hand with your cheek, before connecting your lips together. you had been waiting for this moment since the day you met him, and it definitely lived up to its potential. he kissed you back, passion filling your bodies. 

you pulled apart, and looked at him with a huge grin. jack opened his mouth to ask a sarcastic question.

“so was that a yes?”

taglist: @nowitsmissing, @nikoschrissis, @hillesem, @lvndryyhoe, @ieattoesforbreakfqst, @sevenheavxns, @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

(click here to join taglist)

[daisyvisions]

Hide and Seek - (l.hj)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Best friend!Hyunjae x afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: You thought avoiding your feelings by completely avoiding Hyunjae would solve everything. But a little game of hide and seek changes that.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 2.7K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), bff-idiots-to-lovers, mutual pining, close proximity, pussy job (? we’ll classify it as such), fingering, slight oral (f! receiving), cum eating, groping (lots of it), pet names (honey and sweetheart), premature ejaculation (if you squint), a lil angsty but happy ending ofc! proofread once

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: a more detailed version of this ask (obv) and all the other asks that were related to this. Belated Happy Birthday to my bias wrecker I hope you’re happy with all the brain rots you’ve given me ever since 😭

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were just supposed to spend the night with good company, good music, and maybe even play some drinking games here and there. But nothing could've prepared you for the what was to come. Nothing could’ve prepared you to be stuck inside a stuffy closet with the person you were trying to avoid this entire night…

Lee Hyunjae.

It’s not that you had any bad blood with him. It was quite the opposite. You two were like peas in a pod. Best of friends ever since you met in college. But lately… you’ve been having these weird feelings for him.

Yes, he was incredibly handsome. You knew that ever since you met him. But how come only now you’ve started to notice the way his eyelashes would flutter gracefully every time he blinked? The way his eyes would have this tiny little sparkle to them when he would look at you?

Or the way he his muscles would move under his tight shirt whenever he would stretch? Or the way his cologne would infiltrate your lungs and keep you dizzy almost the whole day? Or that one time he called you “honey” so sweetly with his warm voice? (Which nearly had you pressing your thighs together to ease the tension blooming down at your core.)

Yeah, this wasn’t any ordinary feeling. This was you… having a crush on Hyunjae.

Just saying his name alone makes your throat feel dry and the butterflies in your stomach fluttering like crazy. You don't even know when this all started. But one thing’s for sure- you would rather die than admit your feelings to him.

The fear of rejection and your entire friendship ruined at an instant. So you thought the best way for these feelings to die down was to just avoid him. And so you did… for about two months now.

But little did you know that distance only makes the heart grow fonder.

Muffled music and people shouting over one another were heard from outside as you climbed up the steps to the house. As soon as you ring the doorbell, you’re greeted by a shit-faced but still incredibly smiley Haknyeon.

“Hey! You’re here!” he pulled you in for a tight hug, instantly smelling the strong scent of alcohol he’d been drinking the whole night.

“Yeah, had to make sure I wouldn't miss your birthday Hak.” You reply.

“And to think, we were almost about to place bets on whether you would show up or not” he chuckles. That sentence slightly stinging as you felt guilty for purposefully avoiding your friends too in the process (since your friends were also Hyunjae’s friends.)

“Well… Don't just stand there. C’mon! You have a LOT to catch up on. And by that I mean the drinks-” Hakyneon grabs your wrist and leads you into the kitchen. And boy did you make you drink.

As the night went on, you were able to catch up with more friends, danced until your feet were starting to get sore, and played lots of drinking games. Eventually, the party slowly started to die down and almost all the guests invited were gone except your close circle of friends.

All of you were just sitting down in a circle in the middle of the living room laughing around, sharing stories of what happened tonight, and just enjoying each other’s presence.

You missed this. You missed being with all your friends. But of course, your stubborn ass refused to be around Hyunjae which made it incredibly difficult having him sit across you with a look in his eyes you couldn’t read.

“Oh oh I know! Why don’t we play hide and seek?” Hakyneon shouts, his speech slurred from having too much to drink.

“Aren’t we a little too old to be playing that?” Chanhee replies.

“Not if you’re drunk. It’ll be ten times more fun!” Eric chimes in.

“Okay! We’re playing it. I’ll be seeker, you guys hide. Ready? I’ll count to one hundred.” Haknyeon instantly covers his eyes. “One… two… three…” The shuffling of feet and drunk giggles were heard as soon as he starts counting, everyone in the circle hastily gets up and runs in different directions trying to find their hiding spots.

You were frozen in place for a moment, trying to figure out where to hide until you just decided to trust your gut and run upstairs to find whatever available spot you could.

You opened the first room your gut was telling you to and spotted a small walk-in closet, quickly running to open the door and shut it close before anyone could steal your spot.

You were too distracted by the sound of your heart was beating so fast from all the running and excitement that you didn’t notice a pair of hands lightly grabbing your shoulders until you turned around. You nearly screamed your head off but your mouth was instantly clamped down by the same hand now covering your mouth.

“Hey, it’s only me. Calm down.” Hyunjae whispers. You let out a sigh of relief as he puts down his hand.

“We can’t be in the same spot, he’ll find us so quick.” you protest.

“Well, I was here first so you’re gonna have to find a new spot to hide in.” He replies.

As soon as Hyunjae finishes speaking, you both hear Haknyeon’s voice from a distance screaming that he’s ready to find everyone.

“Great, now I’m stuck in here with you.” You sigh.

“That wouldn’t be such a bad thing now would it?” He smirks at you. Your heart beating fast once again from the cute little dimple appearing at the side of his mouth.

You both silently gaze at each other for a moment, nothing but the sound of the both of you breathing at the same time. He looks at you with the same eyes he had earlier.

“I missed this…” Hyunjae whispers. His hand slightly moving forward for his pinky to slightly touch yours.

“Missed what?” You reply as you try to avoid looking at him any longer.

“Us.”

“Hyunjae-”

“Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?”

“I-it’s not that. I-”

“Then why?” His voice raises slightly. “Do you know how miserable I felt ever since you suddenly cut yourself off from me? Without giving me a reason why?” And that’s when you look back at him. His eyes were filled with a kind of sadness you have never seen before. Your chest started to tighten, feeling incredibly guilty for what you did all because of the fear you had.

You open your mouth to try to say something back until you hear faint footsteps walking down the hall. Your eyes slightly widen and you turn around to peer through the tiny slits of the closet door, trying to see if Haknyeon will enter the room.

As you keep watch you suddenly feel Hyunjae’s hands rest on your hips as he leans in close to check with you, your back now glued to his chest.

“You think he knows we’re in here?” He whispers in your ear. His voice and warm breath sending chills down your spine.

“If we can keep quiet and cross our fingers maybe.” You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment and leaning your head back to calm down your nerves.

As soon as Hyunjae turns his head slightly, the tip of his nose brushes against the side of your head. The faint scent of your shampoo hitting his nose (the scent he grew to love the most) has his eyes nearly rolling back from how good you smell.

But he suddenly snaps out of it realizing how close he is to you right now and he internally freaks out. His nerves get the better of him as he impulsively tightens the grip of his hands on your hips, making you let out a very faint gasp from the sudden pressure on your skin.

Both of you try to ease the current situation by shuffling your positions, turning the opposite directions into each other. But because you didn’t realize how close you actually were, your lips ever so lightly brush against his. You both freeze in that moment.

“Uh- I- I’m sorry” Hyunjae stutters as he starts to freak out from the whole situation. He should probably let go of your hips and back away before anything worse happens but he just couldn’t. Not when you’re this close to him, your breath practically mingling with his.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The one chance he thought he could patch things up between the two of you now ruined by the lightest touch of your lips against his, the feeling that will forever engrave itself onto his lips. Sounds pretty lame for others but to him? It’s everything and more.

You see, the whole night Hyunjae’s been trying to find the courage to confront you about why you’d been so distant with him. The week you started avoiding him he genuinely felt like he fucked it all up.

Was his crush on you getting too obvious? Were his longing gazes making you feel uncomfortable? Did calling you a pet name want to make you puke? Or when his hands would rest on your waist every so often? Or how about that time he stared a little too long at your ass the day you wore that fitted skirt? Did you think he was a perv? God you probably thought he was a perv.

He felt like he already ruined the friendship without even admitting his feelings to you. It didn’t help either at the fact that you looked so beautiful tonight too. He almost wanted to kiss you the moment he saw you enter the house. To pull you away from Hak and just kiss you like a man starved.

But just like you, he also was afraid of the possible rejection from the one person that held his heart at the palm of their hands since day one.

But all the worries running in his head were cut off when you suddenly leaned forward to finally give him a real kiss. You pull away for a moment to see his reaction but you don't even have the time to do so as he pulls you back in and kisses you back.

His lips desperately move against yours, taking into memory how soft they feel. The way they move with his like a missing puzzle piece.You softly whine with every kiss he gives as you slightly tug his hair between your fingers (and he definitely moans at that.)

You both have been wanting this for so long without realizing it. Everything left unsaid, all the stolen glances, the passion fueling inside you… All unleashed in this tiny little closet.

Hyunjae moves you backwards until you’re pressed against the wall. He nudges your legs apart with his knee as his kisses travel down from your lips, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck until his face reaches your breasts. He doesn’t even hesitate and starts to massage your breast with one hand and mouth your covered nipple as much as he could.

“Hyunjae…” You moan out his name.

“Hmm?” He hums kissing your covered chest.

“Please-” he stops for a moment to look at you.

“Tell me what you need and fuck- I’ll give it to you”

“You. I need you.”

Hyunjae doesn’t even bother asking specifics and just does whatever feels right. His fingers unbutton the front of your jeans, sliding his hand inside like he’s done this a million times before. The tips of his fingers slide in-between your folds, making him groan against your mouth from how wet you are.

Your hips slightly jolt as soon as his fingers find your sensitive bud. He slowly rubs your clit in circular motions, making you moan out his name in pleasure. Just hearing you say his name like that makes Hyunjae’s knees almost feel like jelly.

“I love you so fucking much you have no idea.” He suddenly blurts out, hoping it doesn’t scare you away. You palm his clothed erection, unbuttoning his pants the same way he did with you.

“Then show me.”

Hyunjae immediately pulls down his pants along with his boxers enough to free his aching cock from its confinement. Your mouth waters at the sight of his size. Too distracted by staring at his cock, you don't even notice Hyunjae pulling down your own jeans until you feel the slight breeze on your exposed cunt.

His knee nudges your legs apart a bit more as he holds the base of his cock, angling the head to insert through your folds. You instinctively close your legs again, trapping his member as he slowly bends his knee to thrust himself.

He holds your waist for support as you continue feeling his cock glide through your wet folds, nudging your sensitive clit in the process. You both moan when the head of his cock nearly gets caught at your entrance, tempting him to just push the tip in.

“Hyunjae…” You desperately call out his name as you grab his hair and tug on it again. He doesn’t know how long he’ll last especially with how your sweet voice sounds saying his name. God how he missed you so much.

“Just a little more okay? Are you close?” He asks.

“Uh-huh. Don’t stop-” You beg. Hyunjae quickens his thrusts through your folds like his life depended on it. You almost let out a guttural moan as soon as you feel the knot inside you snap, but Hyunjae is quick to muffle it by kissing you.

You were so out of touch from your high that you didn’t even realize Hyunjae reaching his own high in that moment as well. The sound of him moaning and slipping his tongue into your mouth is what brought you back. Feeling his load spilled through your folds and the sounds of your arousals mixing together is almost enough for you to go again despite feeling a bit sensitive.

“Shit- I’m so sorry-” Hyunjae panics. He didn’t expect to cum so quick. All he wanted was to make you feel good. He feels his cheeks are on fire from embarrassment, afraid that this is what will drive you away from him again.

“L-let me clean you up-” Hyunjae drops to his knees.

“What are you do-oh my god” you gasp. You feel his tongue lapping at your cunt, trying to clean up the mess he made with his mouth. The act alone makes his cock twitch again, but he gets back up as soon as he’s done.

You pull him by his collar to kiss him once more, tasting your mixed arousals before pulling away. You both help each other fix up before looking at each other.

“Did you mean it?” You ask him. “When you said you loved me?”

Hyunjae hesitates for a split second, but after what just happened he comes clean. “Yeah, I did. Ever since I met you.” His hand caressing the side of your face. Your eyes soften as your heart flutters inside, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Good, because I feel the same way. Actually… that’s why I avoided you.” you shyly say.

Hyunjae smiles before giving you a peck on the lips. “You’re adorable you know that?”

“Let’s get out of here. I think our friends are looking for us” Hyunjae says, making you remember why you’re in the closet again to begin with. You grab his hand as he opens the closet door.

You both nearly get startled as soon as you see very irritated Haknyeon standing in-front of you with his hands perched on each side of his hips,

“You know, the point of hide and seek is to be quiet. If you’re gonna do some nasty shit in my closet at least do it IN SILENCE…”

[o-sachi]

Oliver Aiku ‧₊˚ ⋅ Relationship Headcanons + Mini Scenario

ଳ character; oliver aiku (blue lock) ଳ tags; sfw, gn reader, no y/n

— He uses pick up lines unironically. He used it to get you and he still uses it after he already got you to say yes to him. Everyone else thinks it's corny as hell, but you eat it up anyway. (That's just another reason why he loves you so much).

— He's kinda bad at reading the atmosphere. Usually he'll be teasing you and it's alright; nothing out of the ordinary. But sometimes you're just not in the mood and it takes him a while to catch your drift. He'd take one last jab at you before realizing and apologizing like a poor little puppy.

— HE IS THE TYPE TO BRAG ABOUT YOU TO HIS FRIENDS. They'll be talking about their significant others and he'll always butt in just to brag about you. Like, okay dude, we get it. You're a lovesick puppy.

— You've told him a million times not to do it, but he'll rub his stubbly chin on your arm to get a rise out of you. It's not that you hate his stubble; in fact, it looks great on him! The feeling of him purposefully rubbing it on you is a bit irritating though... especially with that cocky grin on his face as he does it.

— His love language that he gives is a tie between words of affection and physical touch. HE WILL BUTTER YOU UP PERIODT. Like sometimes you know he's blatantly lying to your face to make you feel better, but you know he does it out of his immense admiration for you.

— The love language he likes to receive is either acts of service or physical touch. It depends on the mood really. But he loves loves loves it when you treat him like a lil baby. Sir, you are a grown ass man. But pamper him a bit and serve him a nice home cooked meal and he will be on his knees.

— Not only is he a defender on the field, but the man is so protective of you. Someone was a little bit rude to you? Oh boy... there will be consequences. Although, he tries not to be TOO scary, especially in front of you.

— Aiku lets you steal his clothes. Sometimes he'll even offer it to you. He'll deny that he just bought that sweatshirt, insisting that he got tired of it and now it's all yours.

ᯓ Ice Cream

It was a suuuuuper long day of working yourself to the bone. The only thing you were looking forward to was eating the ice cream you bought yesterday and relaxing on the couch, watching some random Netflix show.

As soon as you stepped into the apartment, you chucked your shoes off and threw your bag God-knows-where. You made a beeline to the freezer where your favorite ice cream should be.

Keyword: should.

But for some strange reason... the dessert just wasn't there.

You closed your eyes, breathing in and breathing out. You tried so hard to think of happy thoughts, otherwise you'd explode right then and there.

"Oh, hey. You're home. Didn't hear you."

Turning to look at where the familiar voice came from, you were met with your boyfriend's lazy smile.

Look. You were no detective, but putting 1 and 1 together is no difficult task. He. Ate. Your. Ice cream.

And not a hint of remorse was present on his stupidly handsome face.

"Why'd you eat my ice cream?"

Despite the firmness in your tone, his grin didn't falter. "What ice cream?"

You huffed out in annoyance, knowing that he wasn't taking you seriously again. "Seriously. I was looking forward to that and now what?"

Clicking your tongue, you averted your gaze. The more you looked at him, you feared that you would say something hurtful. "Never mind. I think I just need to sleep this off."

Not another word was spoken by him as you walked past by. He finally understood that you were in no mood for games at the moment and he decided to respect that. It was the least he could do after eating your happiness away.

You figured that a long cold shower was what you needed. Maybe you overreacted. But then again, after all this stress, was a small taste of joy so hard to get? Whatever. You'll apologize and sleep it off. Then, if you're up for it, buy a new pint tomorrow. Well... maybe two pints this time, so you know you'll have some left for you.

As you exited the bathroom, you heard the front door click. You checked to see what it was while drying your hair with a towel.

Aiku was panting slightly with a plastic bag in his hand. You stared at each other for a while.

"What's that?"

He holds up the bright red plastic bag. "I bought ice cream. I'm sorry for eating yours. I was being inconsiderate."

The earlier irritation you felt melted away in an instant. A small smile crept on your face as you took a few steps towards him.

"I'm sorry for reacting that way earlier too. Did you run?"

He chuckles, trying to play it cool. "I wanted you to have it after your shower... so yeah... I may or may not have ran to the convenience store."

You closed the distance between the two of you and gave him a soft peck on the cheek. At least now he knows he's forgiven.

"I'll get us some spoons. You go open up that ice cream and pick something for us to watch. 'Kay?"

"Aye aye."

He watches you go into the kitchen to retrieve some spoons, making sure he was out of your sight. He let out the biggest breath of relief.

Lesson learned: Do not mess with someone else's ice cream.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[the-s1lly-corner]

WOoOoOoO SPOOKY SEASON REQUIRES SPOOKY STUFF

Anyways

I would love to request an Child ghost!reader and the gang, basically child reader got murdered when they were using the VR and their soul got stuck into the game.

Their soul being so GORY AND DISTORTED, like an arm is missing, one eye is like hanging out and their head has an hole. Reader can get invisible like a ghost and move things with only their mind, and they are very quiet and just observes, rarely get mad or anything, but when they snap (for example: Because of jax's pranks) they start throwing things around dim the lights and scream, and lets put like, Reader's screams are like LOUD as hell, basically like an ghost tantrum.

So basically Child reader is just an sad messed up lil goof who needs comfort and therapy.

Sorry if its long, i love love love your blog btw!

-🌹

TADC cast x ghost!child!reader (platonic + light found family) !

going to take a different approach to writing this one, since i feel bad about being selective of cast/multi characters today, so! rather than having divided segments like usual, its going to be a group thing! hope thats alright! going to be the last request of this batch them imma make something to eat rq for dinner then get back to writing YAHOO!

when you joined the digital circus, you were already very obviously different from the rest of the gang. even if your gore was toned down thanks to your body being digitized; the programming seemed to struggle with altering your body into something unique... strange... it also seems your body is fighting back against the programming of the world, seemingly trying to restore itself. The effect makes you almost look like you're glitching, or even abstracting

Caine doesnt immediately pick up on your presence, i feel like its in his programming to be aware when a new member joins the circus, but for some reason he didnt notice you until he saw you, or someone brings you up to him

It was Ragatha, who was trying to get answers from him. Who's kid was this? Is it really fair to let a kid be stuck here? Obviously she knew Caine couldnt do anything about it now that you were here, nor did he have any hand in you putting on the headset.

Except... you correct them and say you didn't put on any headset, you were trapped in it.

Of course you're trapped, just like the rest of us, Jax says

None of them immediately believe you try to tell them you're a ghost. Except of course, Kinger, who reasons that that's why you look the way you do; and Gangle, who in my opinion probably finds interest in the supernatural.. or maybe that's just me projecting onto her. Who knows. But the point still stands, almost everyone doesn't believe you.

Not long after, Jax accidentally ropes you into prank that was originally intended for Zooble, I dont think Jax would go as far as to bully a child.... well... actually no, he seems like the type to bully kids on roblox.

The prank wasnt planned for you, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. You open a door, and are immediately greeted with a fake snake lunging out at you. You scream, more so out of surprise and fear than anger. It does turn into anger when Jax laughs at you, still finding some kind of joy from the prank getting at least someone. Your scream rises, causing nearly everyone to cover their ears, the rest were not there in the room but would come rushing to see what the hell was going on

I think it would be that instance as well as a few other; namely ones where you became invisible and started removing one of Zooble's limbs after they (unintentionally) said something a little too mean to you. The idea of you being a ghost was further cemented when both Gangle and Ragatha watched you literally phase through a wall. But hey at least someone (Jax) starts laying off of you when it becomes clear you weren't lying

There's mixed feelings, a lot negative. I mean, you're just a kid and you're. Well, a ghost. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to come to the conclusion that something happened to you. Whether or not you remember the details of your death when you became a ghost, or after joining the digital world, is all up to you

Caine, as mentioned before in posts where the reader is a child, tries to be a father figure. He's not the best, since he's programmed to be a ring master, but he definitely tries his best. I like to think he tries to read you bedtime stories when the digital world simulates 'night'

Pomni, who I totally didn't forget, tries to overcome her fear of you and your ghostly powers, ultimately becoming sympathetic you and your situation. Not only was your life cut short, but you were trapped here too, you didn't even get to roam the world in the afterlife. Interactions with her are awkward but there's an effort to try to bring you some form of comfort

Jax, after he stops pulling jokes on you cant deny that he doesnt find you creepy. I think, though, he would ask you if you want to help him scare some of the other members. Whether you be offended by the concept or not is also up to you, since I'm not sure if you wanted the reader to be sensitive regarding their current predicament or not

Ragatha goes into full big sister mode, even before it's confirmed that you're a ghost. Sure, she's a little put off by your ganky and gorey looks, but her heart aches for you. Similar to Caine she tries to do general child care activities with you, perhaps if you let her, she would do your hair and make you dresses

Kinger will take a while to warm up to you, but I think after some time would start to open up to you, usually it's best to interact with him when he's already in a calmer state. He already gives me dad vibes that I cant pin down... but he would tell you stories of his past (in house) adventures and some funny stuff that has happened over his time in the digital world

Zooble is going to need a moment to get over the invisible dismemberment thing... as well as Zooble being Zooble and needing some time to warm up to people in general... Not much to be said, yet...

Gangle would offer to lend you some art supplies... kids like arts and crafts stuff, right? Thats her logic, at least, and if it means you have an outlet for your emotions then that would be great!

Overall you now have a funky found family, so hey, at least things aren't totally... terrible.. Unfortunately with them stuck in the digital world they can't do much to get you justice, if you let them know you were murdered. But rest assured if your killer somehow gets trapped in there with them and you recognize them, they have your back

[discordsmuse]

Discordsmuse Masterlist

❀•°❀°•❀

Hello friends! Finally putting together a masterlist to make it easier for you guys to find all my fanfics here since I only post to AO3!

These will be organized by fandom and character.

❀•°❀°•❀

Baldur's Gate 3

Canon/Canon

Halsin

• The Lady's Embrace, Shadowheart/Abdirak, Mature/18+, SH accept Loviatar's blessing.

dance me to the end of love, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Halsin admit to their feelings post-Moonrise and fuck on a balcony.

Silence, NSFW/18+ : Fem!Tav and Halsin fuck in a closet

Do Unto Others, NSFW/18+ : Fem!Tav wants to give Halsin some attention and convinces him to let her be the giver for once.

Enver Gortash

body more than just a flesh, you can sell it for success, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav is invited to dinner with the Archduke and things get a little heated.

i will give you all that you need, NSFW/18+: Sequel to the above, Fem!Tav and Gortash bathe together before Enver gets a little handsy.

gracious men are those who suffer, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Enver w/ a free use kink.

legacy with no memory, NSFW/18+: Fem!Durge and Enver Gortash w/a pregnancy kink

I wanna know my god, At least enough to fear Her, NSFW/18+: Fem!Durge and Gortash have a lil bit of hate sex

Gale Dekarios

be my nightfire, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav catches Gale mid-alone time. Feelings and sex ensue.

Abdirak

sanctify you bedsheets with the sweat along your hips, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav is fascinated by Abdirak and nervously asks him to teach her about Loviatar.

Raphael

delightful little detour, NSFW/18+: Canon rewrite for what happens when Fem!Tav tells Raphael he's bad at sex.

Let the Dream Begin, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael Phantom of the Opera AU, slowburn

Office Hours, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael College AU

she keeps the candle burning, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael post-game

Haarlep

Ask prompt, Haarlep/Fem!Tav when Haarlep shows up at camp.

Rolan

i wanna have a home, i wanna share it, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Rolan get together post-saving the tieflings from moonrise.

❀•°❀°•❀

Pirates of the Caribbean

Hector Barbossa

The Pirate Lord, NSFW/18+: Barbossa/Reader post-Elizabeth being kinged.

All That Glitters, NSFW/18+: Longform Barbossa/Reader canon rewrite pre-CotBP

Liar's Bet, NSFW/18+: Longform Barbossa/Reader canon rewrite during CotBP and DMC

feel the edges start to burn, NSFW/18+: Barbossa/Reader where reader is friends w/Carina

❀•°❀°•❀

Harry Potter

Severus Snape

isn't it lovely (all alone), NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader closet sex

no death in rebirth, NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader longform amnesia oneshot

Brought to Life, NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader marauder's era classmates to lovers lol

❀•°❀°•❀

Dead by Daylight

Canon/Canon

Contention, NSFW/18+: Ace/Meg against a tree hatesex

Breaking Point, NSFW/18+: Megmillan first time

It's Alright, Teen/16+: The survivors and killers recover post-entity

Anna/The Huntress

Not so much taming as growing accustomed, Mature/16+, Huntress/Reader friendship to lovers

Herman Carter/The Doctor

Untethered, NSFW/18+, The Doctor/Reader where reader annoying him but in the fun, bratty way

❀•°❀°•❀

Resident Evil Village

Karl Heisenberg

Business Partners with Benefits, NSFW/18+: Heisenberg/Reader where reader is Moreau's niece

❀•°❀°•❀

Spider Man

Dr. Otto Octavius/Doc Ock

Working Overtime, NSFW/18+: Otto/Reader where reader is his lab assistant

Bedside Manner, NSFW/18+: Otto/Reader where reader is Doc Ock's lover

❀•°❀°•❀

Labyrinth

Jareth the Goblin King

Midsummer, NSFW/18+: Jareth/Reader at the midsummer fae ball

don't leave me lonely, NSFW/18+: Jareth/Reader sequel to Midsummer

❀•°❀°•❀

The band Ghost

Papa Emeritus IV/Cardinal Copia

Better Than, NSFW/18+: Copia/Reader where he's a little insecure about Terzo being better than him

❀•°❀°•❀

Dracula

Dracula (lol)

Nice Costume, NSFW/18+: Dracula/Reader in a modern setting at a party

❀•°❀°•❀

Our Flag Means Death

Israel Hands

we do get desperate, now and again, Mature/16+: Fem!Reader/Izzy hurt/comfort unrequited love.

i wanna be yours, Mature/18+: Fem!Reader/Izzy first time together

❀•°❀°•❀

The Quarry (2022)

Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney

• fell in love with the fever, Explicit/18+: Travis and Laura are forced to spend some time together 6 months after the incident.

• perspiration and alcohol, Explicit/18+: Travis and Laura meet again and become gym buddies. Laura pushes the line as per.

❀•°❀°•❀

DC Comics

• to fear the solitary, Mature/18+ themes, Doctor Johnathan Crane flirts with his favorite intern.

❀•°❀°•❀

This list will grow/change as I write more :D Thanks for reading!

[iocity]

ASL ‘Merica AU where Ace is the only one who can make coffee. Sabo can cook (mediocrely, Ace is much better) and usually does due to Ace being so “free-spirited” (a whore). But Ace is usually back in the morning to make the coffee because if anyone else makes it, it tastes like hot dooky water. One time Luffy tried to make it and they all feared for their credit scores (he almost burned their rented home down). Luffy, despite being very knowledgeable in food, cannot cook for shit. Sure he knows what is healthy and what plants grow where, but applying them in the kitchen?? Danger and destruction to everyone involved. Usually Luffy just ends up backseat cooking (standing next to them, wrapped up in a blanket and telling them how he wants it cooked). Sabo doesn’t mind it much, since he is quite particular with his food too. But Ace?? Oh he is pissed. If there is one thing that will start an argument in the ASL household, it’s questioning his culinary prowess. Sure he’s no Sanji, but he’ll be damned if the only person in the house who can’t cook tells him how to. Usually when Ace is cooking, Luffy is a) keeping his peace and deciding to yap about his day or b) in the time out chair while Ace curses with every movement he makes.

Despite that, cooking and eating together is very important for all of the brothers. When Ace moves away for school, both of the brothers feel that the empty space on the couch is overwhelming. No more arguments, no more specially Ace-made meals on birthdays and holidays, and no more brotherly bonding time (till summer of course). Sure when they can they’ll call during mealtimes, but it isn’t like him being there. It wasn’t the same rushing home to eat because Ace insisted their food be hot. Luffy is affected the most by his absence. Sabo had gotten used to eating alone as a child, so it was a familiar concept that he could (unfortunately) go back to handling; Luffy on the other hand had always had someone to eat with. When it wasn’t Garp or Garp’s “old people” friends, it was Dadan and the boys. He felt childish and immature for feeling so sad when Ace left, especially since he knows Ace would never have left if he could help it.

It’s on one particularly bad day that Luffy feels the gap in their house the most. After a long exhausting day of running from the cops (for vandalism) all he wants to do is be around the people he loves most. So he calls up his friends, wanting to just hang around them, maybe play a video game or go outside and wander. He is instead met with a chorus of no’s to which he complains about GREATLY. Nami has to go out and handle “some business” (whatever that means), Sanji has to cut Zoro’s and Ussop’s hair (Sanji is very particular about noise since he isn’t professionally trained), Chopper and Franky are working on a big project (something about mechanical blah blah blah) and can’t be distracted, Brook has a gig in another state, Robin has classes to teach, and Jimbei is babysittting for a friend. Law didn’t answer which usually meant he was at the hospital, and Luffy hated that place. They wouldn’t be free till later, and Luffy was bored now. So, he came home hoping to see Sabo but was met with a note on the counter about how he had to finish a project and wouldn’t be home till later. Luffy felt exceedingly lonely, and he HATES feeling lonely more than anything else. When he is alone, his boredom makes way for thought, and thought makes way for headaches. So, he calls Ace. It rings once, then twice before…

“What’s up ya lil’ crybaby?” Ace’s voice rings out flatly despite his happiness that his little brother called.

“I’m borrreed. And hungry. I’m hungry and bored and no one is around.” Luffy whines miserably, head on the kitchen table as he kicks his feet.

“WOMP WOMP wah wah wah get over it loser.”

“Asshole.”

“Shitface.”

“Doodoohead”

“That’s basically the exact same thing I just said dumbass. Why don’t you just go hang out with one of your delinquent friends?” Ace queries with a chuckle before a crashing sound clangs out loudly and a slew of colorful curses leave his mouth.

“They are all busy…” Luffy mumbles through a pout, his hands drumming a soft beat into the table to distract him from the fact that one of his brothers is halfway across the country, one is a workaholic (he actually has a very average work schedule; Luffy is just dramatic), and none of his friends can hang. Ace is silent for a while, before a video call notification is popping up on Luffy’s phone, a wide smile replacing his pout as he picks up.

“So we meet again foul fiend,” Ace grins, his teeth and nose only visible as he shuffles with his phone, “I’m super fucking busy by the way, you should be glad I’m taking this precious and majestic time to call my dumbass brother.”

Luffy laughs gleefully, ignoring the insult in favor of grabbing his phone and tossing it on the couch, yelling out a quick, “I’ll be back!”

“Don’t throw your dearest brother!” Ace yells from the mic as Luffy cackles his way down the hallway and back, game in hand. He sets the phone up to where he won’t have to touch it but him and Ace are still visible when he returns; he laughs again with a stupid grin as he settles into the couch. Ace has adjusted the phone in his absence, now his face and torso are showing, his hands and eyes focusing on something out of frame as his hat hangs loosely on the back of his neck.

“So you’re just gonna sit here while I’m workin’ and taunt me with freedom?? Didn’t you say you were hungry?? Why aren’t you eating?? You should eat go eat. Matter fact, go learn to cook for once,” Ace blabbers worriedly, his concern thinly veiled by his teasing.

“Keep distracting me and I will. Besides, I want your cooking right now, so I don’t wanna eat anything else.”

Ace’s face contorts in horror at his threat, before softening slightly and sighing, his lips pursing into an almost motherly glare.

“Look Luffy, you know I would be home all the time, but I have to do this. We’ll have enough money to move out and pay for college. It’s somethin’ I gotta do for all of us to live freely. Even if I’m not there, ya gotta eat and take care of yourself,” Ace lectures, his hands still working on something out of frame, his eyes focusing on the task despite the frown he adorned on his face, “And-“

“Don’t lecture me, I know already. I don’t care about any of that. I miss y’all,” Luffy is obstinate about it, crossing his arms and regarding the screen of his phone with deep displeasure, “I don’t wanna miss anyone, ever.”

“We know you don’t care, that’s why we do it instead, ya crybaby,” Ace says simply, cursing again as he leans into whatever he is working on, his head leaving the frame, “Life ain’t perfect.”

Luffy is silent for a moment, his frown deepening as he puts his game to the side. Groaning in displeasure, he gets up, grabs his phone, and walks to the kitchen to eat. He snags a random frozen meal, albeit begrudgingly, and waits for it to cook while looking at the phone boredly, “Let’s all just be pirates.”

“Fix your face; pirates don’t even exist anymore. Besides, who knows who could appear within the next week.” Ace’s mischievous tone soars over Luffy’s head as he lets out a loud, “Huh?”

“Semester is over next week asshat.”

“Yeah. I got finals, so what…” Luffy pauses, racking his brain for insults but coming up short, “welder…”

“That sucked assss bro. I did not raise you like this,” Ace laughs, a thumbs down entering the frame before continuing with its work.

Luffy grins feeling happier and more energetic after some yapping, and he dances as he grabs his meal quickly before sitting down and starting to devour it, pausing only to say, “Oh yeah, that necklace you left?? I stole it, it’s mine now.”

“HE-“

“I’m gonna go steal plants from the big ass garden down the street again! Bye!”

Ace is about to yell as the line clicks, his precious necklace that he accidentally left last visit and dumbass brother only fueling his annoyance. He shakes his head, his hair falling over his face as his eyes refocus on the orange, red, and blue stones he is trying to link into a pendant with gold wire; his hands are tired from the work.

“He better run me my shit back when I give him this, fucking criminal.”

Tags >:D: @porschethemermaid

ASL AU Masterlist!

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Sturgeon Moon in Aquarius ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Ah, Aquarius Full Moon… The inventor, the engineer, the pioneer, the communicator. Yes, the communicator. A world-changer needs to communicate with the community to gain insight and also to communicate the changes they wish to roll out.

Being the last Air Sign, Aquarius is all about gaining insights/perspectives in order to understand fully and deeply the matter at hand. Aquarius endeavours to understand how the Devil ticks so it can begin a revolution and beat the Devil. Ya know?

This full moon is not a time to give up on you dreams and move on to a different, more practical things. This time around, honey, really allow yourself to be a lil crazier than usual. Bask in this over-the-top eccentric Aquarius energy because that’s how the genius bleeds unto your consciousness.

‘I think I mentioned in previous shows, I spent half my life in the military. And I used to come home, take off my little soldier hat, put on my painter’s hat and there, I’d build the kind of world that I wanted. It was peaceful, it was quiet, there was no hassle, nobody was yelling… and it was good. Everything was good. Nobody was going to get shot or hurt, not in my world… and it’s a happy place.’ – Bob Ross

From all the contrasts and oppositions you’ve experienced, what kind of new innovations can you bring Mankind? Can you develop the wisdom to bridge between personal truths and maintaining a social life? Your place in the world—your role—is important; you just need to figure it out first and this Full Sturgeon Supermoon in Aquarius will help with that🎣

[Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Your New World Begins Right Here Right Now In Your Mind

c o m m u n i c a t i o n – 8 of Wands Rx

You’ve been in the process of manifesting a huge, life-changing something in your Life for quite a while now. I think on a deep Soul level your heart and mind are sick and tired of waiting. You haven’t even been just waiting, you’ve actually been working actively to change something significant in your Life. But it’s only felt like nothing’s changed at all. It feels like you’ve been stuck in a strange loop of the same motions of emotions. Your train of thoughts has been circling the same miserable place again and again.

It feels like everything has changed and yet nothing seems to have changed at all. I’m still stuck in the same place—why?

Well, because your train has been held back from changing destinations. And I’ll have you know that it’s not your fault entirely. It’s your subconscious fearing to shift lanes but this isn’t because you’re incapable, it’s because there was a bad situation/environment that has caused you to become afraid of the unknown. This has slowed down your manifestation game…

m o t i v a t i o n – 5 of Wands Rx

Something terrible happened in the past that really broke your confidence in the benevolence of the Universe. You got disappointed after believing that things would get better but they didn’t. And now you have trust issues. You can’t really trust that the Universe would have your back if you tried something new and got into trouble because in the past, the Universe has let you down. At least this is how it’s felt for you. Was it the case that the Universe, your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides really let you go? Umm… not exactly.

There’s this psychologist on YouTube (forgot his name) who has this to say about the nature of trauma: ‘Trauma is not what has been done to you. Trauma is how you perceive what has been done to you.’ It’s quite fascinating, so I hope you could understand this notion intuitively. Now, whatever happened that’s caused your trust to be tarnished, I’m not saying the people who let you down or hurt you horribly are excusable. The point is not that.

The point is that from now on you can take back control of your mind. By realising patterns and the sources of our internal chaos, gradually we can unravel the threads of trauma.

Before the battle of the fist, comes the battle of the mind. Everybody was kung fu fighting~

i n n o v a t i o n – 6 of Pentacles Rx

I’m seeing that right as you’re reading these words, you’re in the preparation stage(s) of a new beginning that will make you really HAPPY (you have the Priestess of Happiness in the bonus content). I think you’re leaving behind an environment, a job, a relationship, a mindset even, that isn’t serving your highest good. It’s been a long time coming, but the lane shift is finally possible.

It's like you’re finally getting out of a karmic loop that’s been halting your explosive manifestation. You’re no longer empathising with that kind of mindset, point of view, or way of life. You’ve held on for too long now you must go and leave that hopeless case however it likes to continue. It’s none of your business now. You’re not sharing your energy with these situations or people anymore.

You’ve got to give your attention to your real desires to be of service to this world. There is a place somewhere in this world where you’re needed and that’s where your Soul truly belongs.

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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Pile 2 – An Alien Doesn’t Belong With the Mortals

c o m m u n i c a t i o n – I The Magician

Wow, I don’t pull this card very often😜You’re an eccentric alien who’s been hard at work mingling with the rest of the Humans, aren’t you? I think to a large extent, you’ve shielded this world from truly seeing your Light, which is such a shame because you have so many amazing gifts to share with Humanity. But the way I see it, it’s just a survival tactic. After all, this world isn’t very kind towards eccentrics.

You might’ve come from a family/school background in which you were ridiculed (maybe even bullied) for being different. It was really painful and whether or not you’re conscious of this, you’ve made quite an attempt to shield yourself from the world so you don’t get made fun of.

But right now, this full moon in Aquarius wants to let you know that you can’t hide forever. Your brilliance is too magnificent to hide forever. Your shield, your covers are all falling apart because the world is needing your talents, soon enough. You’ll see✨

m o t i v a t i o n – Knight of Wands Rx

I’m thinking right away of that theme song from Disney’s Big Hero 6. It keeps saying something along the line of, ‘We could be immortals~’ or something like that. That song is nice, and I think the lyrics could awaken something in you.

You are an immortal, when you really think about it. So, don’t be afraid of losing time or thinking you’re too old to begin now. Your dream doesn’t have an expiration date, OK? If something is your calling, it will keep calling you. So, whatever you’re thinking right now, if it gives you an unmistakably strong feeling that you’re meant to do it, that’s it. Your calling is calling you.

You’re meant to walk the plank towards a great big adventure. Of course, you could choose to ignore and brush it off and then go back to your ordinary Life that’s pretty much miserable on a spiritual level. But are you really alright with that?

i n n o v a t i o n – Knight of Cups

The change from the Knight of Wands Rx to this Knight of Cups tells me that you’re actually a lil afraid of your passions because you could have somewhat obsessive tendencies. You do know that a lot of people struggle with this, right? Once you’re into something you’re passionate about, once you get super excited, super into something, you go full deranged mode and become obsessive for like 3 weeks or 3 months straight. And you think this is crazy person behaviour and you try to avoid that as much as possible because that seems like the reasonable thing to do.

STOP RIGHT THERE.

This kind of tendency is actually your overcompensating for all the hours, days and weeks that you’ve starved yourself from basking in the glory of all the things that do bring you a sense of being ALIVE. Think about that for a moment.

Aaaand… Basically, this is your invitation to start bringing small elements of the things, activities, pursuits that do make you feel alive into your everyday Reality. If you’re surrounded by these things every day, they become such a natural part of your daily life and you’ll be rescued from any sense of temporary addictions☃️Relax, hon, you’ve got this~❄️

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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Pile 3 – Flow Naturally to Where the Love Is

c o m m u n i c a t i o n – Queen of Cups Rx

You’re somebody who’s incredibly accommodating to other people. In spite of your best effort to be kind and affectionate, you still feel misunderstood. I think you’re also often taken advantage of and you know that, but you can’t really stand your ground, so you keep all your thoughts and laments to yourself, bottling up a lot of unspoken emotions that are quite heavy to carry alone.

With that, you often feel like you just wanna run away from all Humans. You want to be free from the chains of human connections and terrible interactions. I think you’re tired on a level that’s hard to put into words. You’re a free spirit incarnate in Human form and that’s quite suffocating. I think many aspects of the modern life don’t suit you.

At this point, you’re not sure yet what you’re supposed to be doing to change your world. You’re simply emotionally tired. And I think that’s fine. Being tired is not a mistake; it doesn’t make you a failure. It makes you Human, ironically🦩

m o t i v a t i o n – 9 of Cups

The way I see it, right now you’re needing to swim more in your dreams and emotions. Try to be one with those watery sensations. I’m sure you’ll find clarity of purpose when you actually let yourself feel all your feelings. It’s like, the answer you’re looking for can only come to the surface when you’re in the waters. I hope that makes sense.

Of all the piles, you’re like so magical and fluid and I’m totally not getting a concrete vision of what it is you’re supposed to be doing in terms of manifesting your ideal life in accordance with this Aquarius full moon energy. Baby, you’re not even here; you’re hallucination. Right now, you’re not even properly grounded in Earth Matrix Reality that it doesn’t even feel like you are part of the collective🤪

But ultimately, that’s also the very thing that makes you magical. You don’t play in the same dimension as most Humans do. It’s safe for you to listen to the whispers of your heart right now, because ultimately, I think your Higher Self just wants you to realise how deeply lovable you are, first and foremost, and for that reason alone you are deserving to see all your dreams manifest into Reality, eventually enough😉

i n n o v a t i o n – 7 of Wands Rx

The funny thing is, if you’ve decided you want to live in your desired reality right now, that’s also possible, right? I know there is logic and sequences in this rigid reality, but at least, if you’ve made up your mind about not wanting to participate in the rat race, that conviction will guide your actions accordingly. If your actions do not reflect your inner thoughts yet, it’s because you’re still resisting the change.

Don’t be afraid of being disliked by others. Their thoughts about you reflect more about them than actually yourself, so what’s your care? It will do you good to choose the path of least resistance. Flow naturally to where the Love is. Where is the Love, you ask? First, within yourself. The moment you decide that you will uphold Love and respect for yourself, you will stop tolerating people who do not show you the Love and respect you deserve to be treated with.

Go naturally with it. Your heart, when you’re honest with yourself, will lead the way towards a happier Reality. Just enjoy the swim for now🥰

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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[thewandererh]

anyone ever heard of unravel? it’s one of my absolute favorite games, and it’s message and experience will never leave me. you’re a lil yarn fella exploring the memories of an old lady, and uncovering a heartfelt and realistic story of growth and loss along the way. absolutely gorgeous scenery, puzzle design, and metaphor of a game.

it does all of this with absolutley zero words. the only thing you hear from the game is ambience…and the music. i need to talk about the music.

one thing that’s always stood out to me about Unravel’s music is that it’s based completely on violin. composed and preformed by frida johansson and henrik oja, it’s a work of art (and awesome for studying!). i love this choice of experimenting with an emotional instrument to describe different areas: it succeeds so naturally in capitalizing on the emotion. your character goes through areas themed with sun, snow, water, ice, forests, and metal, and the music compliments it every step of the way. the environment changes pallette after pallette as you experience the story through a vessel of expression that admires and fears the world around it.

you are a yarn cat reminiscing on the good and bad of life. you go through trials and triumphs just like anyone would. but in this journey through the eyes of a wordless red thread of destiny, you experience life to the fullest. this thesis is reflected to its full potential in the music.

frida and henrik are masters of expressing emotion through music alone and i will always admire them for that. never have i heard a question, statement, and exclamation interpreted so thoroughly through instrumentals. they handle cord progression and storytelling so extremely well. the sequel, Unravel 2. continues this emotional-musical trend while incorporating different instruments too, giving the game a collaborative and heartfelt feeling. they add guitar and digital doodads that groove endlessly in their own ambient way, further expanding the style of the unravel games. the music of this game (series?) is a friend to you on your journey—empathizing and playing with you through the ups and downs. it’s a masterpiece of design and i will never stop preaching praises for it.

please play the game (and it’s sequel with a friend!!) on steam. i am on my knees. please. it isn’t covered as much as it needs to be and deserves all the love it receives. the message is timeless, the music is wonderful, and the puzzles are worthwhile. it’s an absolute indie gem that will never leave you for as long as you live.

.-.

this was something different for me, and a bit of a ramble-tumble, and that’s ok. i’ve always admired video essays and rants on social media that feel like persuasive essays. i’m been experimenting with wordplay and sentence structure recently, and wanted to give something like this a try :]. it’s unprofessional since i’m no expert, but i’m noticing something and commenting on it to the best of my ability. thanks for reading!💛

[kyber-crystal]

For requests, maybe something with rooster where you like to play little tiktok pranks on him. like imagine telling him you paid $200 for premium air in your tires or supergluing a jar and he can't open it lol 😭😭 I just think he would have the best reactions to all of them

HAIJHSOJNSOJXN I JUST BUST OUT LAUGHING READING THIS (also despite being on tiktok i’m not super up to date on all the pranks bc they haven’t shown up a lot on my fyp. but i HAVE seen some stuff here and there so i will mostly be going off that haha). anyway i’m so sorry this was genuinely so cringe bc i haven’t done headcanons in a while but i hope it makes u laugh anyway :)) i have a better one shot coming your way i promise

rooster is the prankster of the group

but there’s only one person that can outdo him: you

this man practically falls to his feet when he sees you and worships the ground you walk on and somehow YOU CANT SEE IT

what this basically means is he will literally drop whatever he’s doing to listen to you

miraculously, cyclone is in a good mood, and thus decides to grant everyone three days off

this is the perfect time for you to mess with little rooster’s head :)

you know you go to the beach to play volleyball every friday. and this friday is supposed to be the hottest day of the month

this means that rooster will burn almost as quickly as he tans

while he’s busy chatting up some “game plan” with coyote, you swap out the sunscreen spray in his jacket pocket for baby oil

SO THEN he comes over to put it on, and not even ten seconds later he’s all shiny and sparkly and you try your hardest not to laugh (and gawk a little bc holy that man is TONED)

you’re able to get about 2 rounds in when he notices

“why do i smell like i just waltzed through a lavender field.”

“hmmmmmmmmm no idea” you smiled at him innocently

“it was you, wasn’t it” and he goes chasing after you as you shriek at the top of your lungs

(he managed to tackle you down and although you get a bit sand in your mouth and hair you count it as a win because you took him completely by surprise AND you got to see his bare chest but you wouldn’t fucking dare admit that to him, his ego is big enough as it is. rooster 0-you 1)

ok later that evening @ the hard deck, he’s on a phone call with one of his old college friends. for this one, you team up with hangman to hand him some of the most random things while he’s talking

you start off normal at first, like with a beer, then your hair tie (he always wears at least 3-4 of these on his wrist bc you always end up needing one at some point in the week.)

then hangman hands him a cube of ice. literally a cube of ice. but rooster barely reacts to this and just pops it into his mouth

then a lightbulb goes off in your head

knowing that rooster has an irrational fear of ladybugs, you quickly go out to the back to find one

then you come back and hold your hand out to him

and rooster, being rooster, LOVES physical contact (especially if it’s from you), and takes your hand in his as he continues talking

but then the bright red ladybug crawls onto his wrist and he almost immediately hangs up, drops the phone, and SCREAMS in the middle of the bar

you and hangman share a secret high five at this

but ALSOOO you kind of feel bad for scaring the shit out of the poor guy

that night you’re too lazy to walk back to your place so rooster offers to let you stay with him

and duh you say yes (it’s def bc you’re getting extra opportunities to pull pranks on him and not bc you have a fat crush on him and are hoping he’ll notice even though you’re the least obvious lil shit and prefer to show you care ab him by asking if he wants anything from costco or his fav restaurant down the street)

he ends up sleeping in the next morning, and you’re up pretty early, so you decide to make breakfast

you make a mental note to yourself to go on a grocery run together next week bc you were almost out of strawberry jam

he comes downstairs w/ messy hair and sits down at the counter

and he tries to open the jar of jam

but it won’t budge

he keeps trying for a minute straight but then gives up

so his eyes immediately go over to you and you play dumb

“i didn’t do anything i swear!”

“y/n.”

“i’m innocent!”

“y/n.”

he suddenly brushes your cheek with his thumb and you find this a bit strange since it’s so sudden. and still, your heart does that annoying thing where it skips a beat every time he touches you

“superglue…” he murmured. “i wonder how that got here?”

hahahahahahahaha you sure wonder. it’s not like you stole it while he was sleeping one night

anyway

later that night you ask him if he wants to go for a drive down by the coastline and he says yes.

“yknow, i paid $200 to get premium air for these bad boys!” you told him as you started the engine.

“you…what…”

“for my tires!”

he looks flabbergasted

“y/n, i think you got scammed”

“ok”

you keep driving anyway, the car did NOT feel any different like the mechanic promised it would

but you were no way in hell about to admit that to an already smug looking bradley bradshaw

rooster has finally, FINALLY started to catch onto your antics

so he starts scheming all week to figure out how to get back at you

during this week you’re extremely busy flying back and forth with payback, lessons with maverick, and staying up way too late with phoenix to talk about the latest season of your favorite show

so you don’t even notice that he hasn’t been around for a hot min

then one thursday afternoon right after you got out of the shower, you get a text from him that tells you he’s grabbing some fancy dinner with the guys in an hour and to dress fancy

this has you SCRAMBLING to change bc the place he’s referring to is absolutely legendary

so you show up to the restaurant all polished up and find him in a private booth in the back

“hey…”

rooster is suddenly speechless bc when he told you to dress nice, he didn’t expect you to look like an actual angel

“y/n…you look beautiful”

“thank you…but hey, where is everyone?”

“running a bit late, they should be here soon”

so you order first and wait. and wait. but nobody else shows up

and suddenly the space between you two felt like it had been chopped in half and now you were sitting a lot closer than you remembered

“okay i lied, i’m sorry” he says all of a sudden and you’re like huh tf u talkin ab “i never asked them to come. this is a date. we’re on a date.”

“we are?”

“yes”

so in the end…it’s ultimately you who gets pranked :)

:) :) :) :) :)

…

taglist (add yourself here!): @uwiuwi @queenbbarnes @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @and-claudia @bittergomez @julia-marshal @elenavampire21 @totomoshi @lyn-lc @lunamoonbby @paintballkid711 @yeehawnana @hazelgirl355 @spawn0fsatan @teacactusworld @icemansgirl1999 @cherry-waved @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @hoedameronsworld @aerangi

also quick PSA: my taglist spreadsheet hasn’t been updated in a while so this list may not be completely accurate, sorry for any inconveniences : ‘/

[rassicas]

I think the concept behind Grizz is solid: a Former Bear who inadvertently Ship Of Theseus'd himself into Not Being A Bear Anymore ties neatly into the running theme of Judd and Lil Judd being the Only Mammals left: Mr. Grizz, whatever he is now, no longer counts as a mammal. But in execution... Yeah. They should have focused on the "Ship Of Theseus angle" and the fact that, in his attempts to bring back mammals, he's become more like the organisms that he's trying to destroy.

Ive gotten about a good few dozen comments on YT about this exact thing. but half of them being annoyingly condescending in the process for not bringing up this analysis in my Live (keyword live) reaction of me hating on the bear. i dont think ive really addressed how i feel about this particular thing because of how rude ppl were, but its been a while and youre being nice so long post incoming Anyway yes im very much aware of this 'ship of Theseus angle to grizz, I did see that "in defense of grizz" video. And honestly I do agree it is something about him that has interesting potential if they'd leaned into it more. Much of my distaste with the ending of ROTM is the build up and execution. They made the bear foreshadowing laughably obvious years too early, and then all the poor fools like me who care too much about splatoon's story had faith that "surely the splatoon team, who just made a story as surprising and serious as Octo Expansion, wouldn't handle foreshadowing the identity of their next major villain that badly" took the biggest L. IF the splatoon team had been more blatant that the Judds were the last mammals left throughout the series (the only time it was directly stated that all mammals were extinct before ROTM? in a dev interview. and for years nobody wanted to believe it whenever i tried bringing it up lmao.) if they weren't that on the nose about the bear imagery. if the only solid piece of deception they had about Grizz not being a bear in the entirety of splatoon canon wasn't in a paid artbook... if they were more deceptive about the fact, I'm sure i wouldve been a bit more accepting of the idea of him secretly being a bear from earlier on, and it would've been a cooler reveal. But surface level knowledge should be called into question by looking at the deeper evidence, not the other way around.

The ineffectiveness of the bear reveal is a culmination of Splatoon doing a frankly, bad job at putting whats supposed to be basic, important, worldbuilding knowledge in the game. I think the intended effect of the bear reveal was that the general audience of fans were supposed to have been like "woah, but all mammals are supposed to be all dead holy shit i cant believe hes a bear." and that info was supposed to put a wedge in the bear theories. but when 95% of the player-base anticipating splatoon 3 had no idea that all mammals (except the judds) are supposed to be extinct in the splatoon world and how that's an important part of its worldbuilding up until the announcement of the story mode, if at all...idk man thats pretty bad.

The way the info about mammal extinction was worded in the official news posts sounds like it was supposed to be common knowledge for Splatoon fans, not a surprise like it ended up being.

Anyway back to the execution, it would've been cooler if they'd leaned into that horror element, the fact that he's hardly even a mammal anymore. I think the implication is there. It is cool and fucked up in Splatoon's signature way! But again, I agree it would be better if it was played up or even acknowledged once directly, like in log.exe. Even with all the potential for bear Mr. Grizz to be cool, the years of too-blatant foreshadowing leading to a frustratingly disappointing reveal and the exact annoying plot holes i feared of has permanently soured the concept of him being a bear to me.