#they are beautiful and I will fight God for them

[roscolate]

UGHDUHDTJJDNOGV 😫😫😭😭😭

Sorry for my blubbering there. This just had me screaming and crying on the inside 🥲🥲🥲

Mario getting glohmed during my Zokket fight made me yell and scream like a child

[amoristt]

the night falls like heaven

「 ✦nam-gyu/reader ✦ 」 tags: sfw // hurt/comfort, pining, nam-gyu's pov, lots of angst in an edgy way, very light drxg mentions,

a/n: this'll be a 2 part mini series! so excited to get this started ugh tysm to anon who requested this word count: 9.2k | songs i listened to (x) (x) original request (x)

・❥・Nam-gyu was not a man of many regrets. 

If he had to count, he could fit them all on one hand. Mostly from when he was a teen. Younger and somehow even more impulsive than he was now, drinking through money like water and getting into fights he’d never remember. The worst of them all, however, was one he hadn’t thought would really eat at him. It was unlike himself to get hung up over a girl of all things, but good lord, he was hanging. Strings and all, like a marionette, bleeding and sore at the joints. 

Tough to swallow couldn’t even compare to the feeling of when that specific regret suddenly pops up in the same room after years of abandon. If he hadn’t been so down bad, the sight of you would have only ruffled up his feathers enough to remind him of a better time, but in God’s honest eyes, those feathers of his had been ruffled since the dawn of the very instant you left. The door hadn’t even had a chance to hit you on your way out, nothing but dust and tears in your wake. He was stuck fast, left to his own devices, bouncing between wondering why he let it go so bad and whilst also begging God himself to make you stop being such a bitch. 

But the worst part, the worst part is that even now you still carry this aura of over it all around you. Self-respect colliding with the want to be loved was never an easy tango to dance, all steps just pulling and pushing and trying to snuff out useless feelings and red hot passion. But you twirled until he did what he did best and nudged you to the brink of your breaking point. All that sweet, sweet adoration drained from your face and he saw it- dignity. He saw it on you on your  way out of his apartment, storming past him with biting tears in your eyes. And now, years later, he gets to see it again from across the room.

You’re sitting on a high, high bunk you’ve claimed as yours, people watching. Other than the initial moment you’d seen him in the bubble of people, you haven't bothered sparing him a second glance. It was a beautiful moment- your eyes widening, stopped dead in your tracks before you were on the move all over again. He’s sneaking glances through the corners of his eyes, watching you over his shoulder, and you can’t even give him another second of your day. And the thing that really bothers him is that he knows he can’t stop. 

Out of everyone in this room, your distant presence is a fiery beacon in the darkness and he’s an angry, bitter moth. It’s in his very nature to circle and flutter one step behind, seeking the light, burning at its touch. Singed wings and an endless sneer. If only he could just stop touching the heat, he would surely move on. But he just can’t, and the fact that you can pisses him off so much it makes him lose his breath at times. 

He wished, with the very core of his entire being, that you were weaker. Or, at least, stupider. Maybe then you would have lived up to his expectations and showed up to his door, or at his club, teary eyed and lonely without his superior presence around. He could see it behind his eyes at night, the waver in your voice when you’d beg him to come back into your arms, and more importantly, back into your bed. 

I told you so, he’d say, with that shit eating grin and a hand on your waist guiding you out from the cold.

A forlorn, guideless sheep in need of your shepherd. He could be that for you. If only the word boyfriend didn’t make him shudder with every last fiber of his being. If only that specific little thing wasn’t your breaking point. Your face haunted him- that halo around your irises fading into something far away and charred when he’d had the nerve to actually laugh at you for it. You were grabbing your things and leaving, and he sat watching every moment in clips. It wasn’t anything, back then. You were just mad, in a few days you’d be right as rain climbing into his lap and peppering kisses along his throat. You’d be back, he was sure of it. 

But then the days turned into weeks. And then, to his distaste, those weeks faded into months of silence. He started to catch himself looking for you in crowds, visiting places you’d frequented at just to linger around like an awkward ghost in case he spotted you through the shifting crowds. But you were gone- vanished.

Fine. You’ll never see me again, asshole. 

Those words had been etched into the very walls of his cranium since they’d left your lips in a scathing hiss. Such nasty words, but they shook with every consonant. 

Among your pride was a healthy blend of honesty. You had been true to your word- he really did never see you again. Wiped your slate spotless of anything Nam-gyu.

And it drove him fucking crazy. It made him sick to his stomach in a way he did not think was possible. It was out of control- he couldn’t stop thinking about you, you, you. He missed you more than he didn’t, and he was angrier at himself than he’d like to admit. So instead of admitting, he funnels all that anger into the very shape of you. Drags in the idea of you, his memories of you and shoves them down, down, down, until he truly did think he hated you, after all. 

Until he’s clenching his fist so tight he’s drawing blood and telling himself he’s better off now, without some whining bitch in his ear begging him to stick that boyfriend pin into the thinness of his skin. Thinks that without you hanging on his arm all the damn time, he could really go out and have some fun. He thinks, and he thinks and he thinks until he’s thought too much and suddenly he loves you again and he misses you so bad it’s crushing him under the sheer weight of your absence. 

So, Nam-gyu does what Nam-gyu does best once again, and he drowns himself out with the bitter taste of drugs on his tongue and the sear of alcohol in his blood. 

It all stops.

For a time, anyway. 

You always found ways to seep back into his mind one way or another. Songs that would only make it a second in before he was mashing the skip button. A tv show you’d watched together surviving on the screen roughly a whole minute before it’s switched off. Sometimes it was when he saw something he knew you’d like- a shitty video or meme. Other times you came to him in whispers while he laid out on his own living room floor, out of his mind watching the blank ceiling above him twist and writhe under his spotty vision with a needle poking out of his arm. 

But, most times… Most times you would slither your way to the forefront of his mind just before bed. The touch of you, the smell of you. 

The shape of you underneath him. Hands and quiet breaths. He could still hear the noises you made ringing in his ears, stored away in his memories just to taunt him when he was indisputably alone. Soft skin, even softer thighs. Always so warm, and so wet. So willing. You would come to him while he curled over himself in bed, drunk on porn and memories. 

And afterwards, when Nam-gyu had finished, he would throw his head back onto his pillow and ignore the way it felt like there was a lump in his throat. And that would piss him off even more, because fuck, you should be there with him. Laying by his side running your hands through his hair until he’s falling asleep balancing on the fine line of afterglow and dozing off. 

But you aren’t. You’re doing fuck all with who knows in places he’s never been to, places you probably begged him to go but he couldn’t even remember the name of. You hadn’t answered a single one of his texts, you hadn’t picked up a single call and everytime he hears the first couple seconds of your stupid voicemail he wants to crush his phone in his hands. Vexation was a slippery slope into the fires of fury- rage was like a parasite under his skin, eating away at what little rational thinking he had. 

Voicemail after voicemail. Text after ignored text. Anger was the hardest stage- rage grew horns on the crown of his head and it turned him into something he couldn’t recognize. Or, something he refused to recognize- desperate and heartsick. 

It was supposed to be you. Not him. 

He filled the endless gaps of you with drugs often and women when he could. For a short time it would work and he would wonder why he ever let someone else get him so, so low. But then the drugs would wear off. The random woman in his room that he never bothered to learn the name of would grab her clothes and saunter out the door. He stopped letting them stay the night. He could never sleep, stared at the ceiling until 5am wondering why he still felt like shit. He would be right back where he started, sitting on the couch, staring at the door watching you leave over and over again.  

You stopped updating your socials, quit hanging out with the few people that bounced between his and your crowd, successfully scrubbed him of your life entirely. After a year, he resorted to asking around if anyone had seen you. The answer, as always, was a firm no. It was a corrosive feeling, a constant churn and thrum within the cage of his ribs. It made him even more unrecognizable to himself. Made him invite women into his lap just to shove them away when they didn’t smell like you, or sound like you. Or laugh like you.

It had been so, so perfect before. It was fun, and it was hot all the time, and sex with you felt like heaven was a place on earth. Why couldn’t you see that? Why did you have to go and ruin it with your words and pleading eyes? Nam-gyu doesn’t roll like that. You knew that. He’s a free spirit, he tells himself. No chains, no labels. No holding him down. Even if it was at the feet of this gorgeous, gorgeous body and a honey sweet voice that just always seemed to know what to say. Beautiful eyes that always watched, a smile so saccharine, whispering words against his ear so dirty it made him shiver just to think about. 

The world was too vast to be held down. 

But, truth be told, he was held down. 

He is held down. 

When you walked out of his apartment those years ago, he never left that spot, chewing his nails and anxiously spinning the ring on his finger, watching you go. He started seeing it behind his eyes. Replays it, changes the course, wonders where he’d be right now if he’d just said something different. 

Finding you at the games was like divine intervention. It had to be. Some higher power had crossed his path and plopped you right in front of him. With rolling eyes and a deadpan stare at anything except for him, sure but you were there and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon. God had heard his drug induced prayers of stupor. 

Now it was all about waiting. Waiting for the right moment to dive in and recapture you within him and he’d be right back to drinking you in at every chance he had. He’d do it differently this time, do it right so you’d cling to him and wonder why you ever wanted to leave at all. Make you wonder why you were so stupid to have been so stubborn when everything you could ever need was in the palm of your hand. He was sure of it. That strong, bullheaded expression would blitz is something vulnerable in his hands. A lurch of excitement riveted under his skin among the nerves. 

For now, he waits, and watches. Your presence could never go unnoticed by his dark eyes. 

It’s unfortunate for him that Thanos takes a notice to you, too. It’s hard not to, really, when every time he follows Nam-gyu’s locked line of sight it always leads back to you- this little sweet thing perched up at the peak of the bunks alongside the back, watching the room with this bored stare between mundane yapping with other players. 

“Someone you know?” Thanos’s voice had this subtle drip to it, this underlining excitement that Nam-gyu picks up on almost instantly. His expression stays cool, mostly uninterested despite the way he can’t seem to pry his eyes away from you even as he answers.

“Yeah.”

“Who is she?”

And then he’s stuck. Because his mouth opens for a split second to say, my ex, but he can’t quite say that, now can he? But he also can’t say an old friend either, because you simply weren’t. What you two had was something else entirely- a new plane he struggled to navigate, lovely when things were good, a hellscape when they weren't. The lines were always so blurred, fuzzy with sex and warm laughter.

He decides on something mostly true. “Someone I used to hang out with.”

“Girlfriend?” Thanos’s brow raises with his chirp, leaning forward with clear interest. 

“No.” It comes out quick- too quick, and too heavy. Tinged venom with more baggage than even he could handle at times. Thanos catches it on impact and whistles. 

“I see. So you won’t care if I go chat her up? Hm?” 

“Don’t bother. She’s not like that.” Nam-gyu’s scoffs before he can stop himself, this unsettling seed of jealousy planting itself in his chest. 

“Hm… I guess we’ll see, huh?”

You’re dismounting from your bed and climbing onto the stairs when Thanos jumps to his feet, and Nam-gyu can already feel that itchy panic starting to blotch away at his skin. His hands, his cheeks. That seed takes its place within him bearing vicious roots. 

“Man, don’t bother,” He’s touching at Thanos’s sleeve, his shoulder, anywhere he can to try and gather his friend’s attention. “She can be kind of a bi-”

All it takes is a swat to Nam-gyu’s chest to stop him dead in his tracks, words dying his throat. Shut down, watching his friend take quick steps to you, Nam-gyu following close behind to witness.  If only he could be firmer, never demanding, always suggesting. Always rolling over and showing his soft underbelly at Thanos’s whim. Instead, he lets his lips press into a tight line and let’s it all happen right before him. 

You’re on the bottom step and taking a seat, and you see the rapper approaching before he gets a word in, but your eyes skip over him entirely and settle onto Nam-gyu’s. Distress is building in his muscles, but he’s making damn sure to keep himself in check. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone? You want a friend?”

Up closer now, sharing your space, he sees all the things he’d been missing so deeply throughout the years. You still look just as he remembered- still bearing this expression of bemused coolness, still having these all seeing eyes that seemed to cut right through him. 

“A friend?” you hum, and your voice threatens to pull him in like gravity. “You wanna be my friend?”

If jealousy could sprout through his skin, it’d be an ugly beast of horns and claws. But it can’t, so instead, it takes shape in the way Nam-gyu’s eyes are flicking between yours and the rappers, hands wrapped up in his sleeves. 

“Stick with me, yeah? I promise to keep you safe. My number one priority.” And Thanos is patting his chest, flashing those painted nails. Makes Nam-gyu’s chest tighten, his stomach growing sicker by the second. 

Damn, you can see it, too. There’s no denying the way he’s cringing behind that distant smirk, and he doesn’t think to hide the way he’s twisting his rings on his fingers. When you click your tongue, he knows what's coming. 

“Stick with you, hm… Sorry, but I try to work alone. Partner’s tend to, how do I say…” Those eyes of your slice through him all over again, honing into him when you finish your sentence. “Disappoint me.”

Fuck. Disappointment. Oh god, how that sears into Nam-gyu’s skin. The way you look the rapper up and down, visually sizing him up, would make his heart leap into his throat if he were under that same scrutiny. He never understood how you could always be this intense with such a sweet, sweet face. Kindness was certainly a luxury and he missed it, that never ending fire that kept him warm.

“I can change that for you,” Thanos sings.  “I’m a legend here for a reason.”

“Legend? I’ve never heard of you.” Your brows raise in amusement. 

“You will. Thanos.” He puffs his chest out and nods, a half cocked grin playing over his lips. “Guy’s like me, we don’t disappoint.”

The man actually finds the nerve to reach down and pluck your hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips. Nam-gyu feels red hot scorching through his face but he’s locked in place, watching it like a car crash. Relieved when you yank your hand free and shove it into your jacket’s pocket. It’s the only good thing out of this entire interaction, he finds, especially so when Thanos’s smirk falters into a tight surprised line. 

“Don’t go and do all that. Guy’s like you will always disappoint me.” You lean back against the wall of the step, vexation evident over your features. “How about you talk to me again after the next game, yeah? Maybe I’ll feel different. Thanos.”

You always were so good at slamming the door in people's faces, always brought Nam-gyu joy to witness you shut down the advances of some poor loser trying to gain your affections. Thanos knows he’s been hung out in the cold, too. Barking up the wrong tree in the wrong neighborhood in the wrong country. So, he takes a loose step backwards and shrugs. 

“Your loss.” He sighs, and Nam-gyu follows him all the way back to his bunk in brooding silence. 

Wringing his fingers, he can’t help himself when casts a glance over his shoulder to find you one last time before you’re obscured behind metal frames and moving bodies. When he does, he feels a rush of heat in his cheeks when you’re already stuck fast staring right back, watching him go. He’s silent when he sits down at his little corner of the dormitory, silent when Gyeong-su is harping praises at Thanos. Silent, even, when Thanos says he’s determined to bring you to his side of the map. 

However, he noticeably tenses when Thanos mutters, “What a babe, huh? I should go visit her after lights out.”

Almost immediately there’s hands on his shoulders, pushing and nudging him, demanding his attention. The deepest of sighs leaves the rapper, ducking his head to find Nam-gyu’s eyeline. 

“Come on, man. Don’t be pissed, it’s in my nature, boy. Be honest. You into her?”

“Me and her…” Nam-gyu swallows. “We used to mess around.”

“Lucky you.” Thanos’s is shoving Nam-gyu’s shoulders again. “You cut her lose?”

No, she cut me loose. But Nam-gyu can’t bring himself to say that, the words lost and barred at the tip of his tongue. In the silence, Thanos takes it as confirmation. 

“That’s so cold. If I had her, I’d never let her out of my sight. Sheesh.”

Nam-gyu can’t even form words at all, anymore, irritation and envy wrapping tendrils around his throat and snuffing him out. Your earlier words spin through his brain like a carousel- come find me after the next game. Were you being serious? Were you just saying that to mess with him? He knows you- he knows your tone better than he even realizes, but he suddenly can’t decipher what’s honesty and what isn’t anymore. Jealousy blinds him, thick lenses leading him in all sorts of binds. 

He should have talked to you. He should have made the first move and made sure the first time he was breathing your air was alone. Now he’s anxious, he’s resentful, and he’s humiliated for some reason he can’t quite place. It doesn't help when he can’t resist the urge to look at you one last time, just one for the road, and you’re chatting idly with a man lounging on the other side of the steps you’re currently sitting on. There’s a five foot gap between your bodies but Nam-gyu doesn’t care- the anger that rips through him is blind, you may as well have been fucking the man right in front of him. 

It’s all he can see, tunnel vision encompassing him all the way until the moment lines start to form for lunch. Stewing in his jealousy, a bitter taste blooming over his tongue, he doesn’t jump in line because he’s got an appetite, but simply because you were rather eager to fill your belly. He tails you, matches every step and still has to jump out in front of a random player from taking the spot directly behind you. 

You notice him with a fleeting look tossed over your shoulder, eyes darting from the corners of your eyes and then forward, still as a statue. Desperate to not interact. 

Nam-gyu can’t help himself.

“You into Thanos?”

You audibly laugh at him, and the sound makes him shred the inside of his cheek.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Everything. It’s everything to me. 

You look up at him over your shoulder, watching him through your thick lashes with scorn written all over those beautiful irises. There’s a flash image of you- a memory, tangled between the bedsheets, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes and tear stained cheeks with his hand wrapped around your throat. It’s quick but it hits him like a sucker punch right to the gut. He sucks in a sharp breath. He wants to touch you- he almost does, but the line moves forward a beat and you’re moving with it away from his hesitating fingers. 

“I’m just asking.” He’s trying to be coy, but you can see right through him. 

“You worried, Nam-gyu?” 

That hits him like a sucker punch too. He’d forgotten how his name sounded on your tongue, how it rolled off so perfect and pretty even when you were pissed at him. Sometimes specifically when you were pissed at him, this bubbling anticipation running through him in waves, your passion always the spark lighting the fire in his belly. 

“I’m not worried.”

“You are.” Clocked him, again. Peered into the windows of him and saw that angry ocean of spite and regret behind his eyes. “I know you are. I can see it on you.”

“Not worried.” Nam-gyu shrugs, but he can’t meet your eyes anymore. 

Another sigh ghosts from your lips, but it’s quieter, defeated, almost. 

“I’m not interested in your friend. I’m not interested in anyone.”

And then, he says it. Quietly, as if he doesn’t want you to truly hear.

“...You seemed interested.”

“So you are worried.” You’re crossing your arms and he stares down into your hair, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What if I was? You clearly had nothing to say about it. You were right there- you didn’t tell him we had history? Or did I mean that little to you?”

You’re mad. Holy shit, you’re still so mad at him. But then his brain scrambles to tell him the good side of things- anger is not indifference. So in some ways, maybe more than others, he’s still in that little dome of yours ratting around amongst your thoughts. Means that if he does this right, it would mean something to you to be better this time. 

His lips press into a tight line. He should have talked to you, and now it’s biting him in the ass. It seemed like everything always bit him in the end. And he always let it happen, watched and never interfered. You drive the nail you’d plunged into him even deeper when you throw his words, from all those years ago, right back in his face. That last thing he had said to you before you, or the idea of you, had become a black hole.

“You know what, Nam-gyu? What was it you had said? Oh- uh, why don’t you focus on yourself and I’ll focus on me, yeah?”

It stings. It stings so bad that he physically recoils from the sound of his voice on your tongue, words spilling that just don’t seem right coming from you. Bitter resentment rises in his throat, this reflexive coping mechanism to bite back overtaking his senses. He wants to say I shouldn’t have said that. He wants to say, hear me out. But what ends up leaving him is just as ugly as the rest of his feelings. 

“Jesus. You’re still a bitch.”

The very instance those words tumble from him, he’s already regretting it with every fiber of his being. Even more so when you pluck your bento box from the guard and spin on your heels to glare absolute daggers into the very pits of his soul.

“Get over yourself. I’m glad we had this talk, it was very refreshing.”

This time he does jump to stop you, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “Just listen-”

“No.” 

He doesn’t hide the way he watches you scamper off to your little ledge, hopping up onto your bed and enjoying your vantage point above all else, focusing on your meal. The man you’d been chatting with earlier is in the bed next to yours and that’s just fucking great. The guard has to pry his stare off of you, and a bento box is practically shoved into his chest, urging him out of line. 

Nam-gyu hates the stone anchoring in his guts. Almost as much as he hates how his appetite never quite returned. All food tasted the same when you left, nothing compared to what you’d used to make him. 

The bento box was no different. 

That night, sleep avoided him. There was something keeping him awake- buzzing under his skin no matter how many times he’d rolled over and shifted himself into a new position. Of course he knew what it was- it never really left him, after all. The fact of knowing you were across the room, all alone in your bed, was this incessant knock in the back of his skull tapping him back into reality whenever he found himself comfortable enough to doze off. His mind was stuck on you, as always, wondering what you looked like right now. 

Did you sleep the same as before? Laying on your side, hair messed over the sides of your face and splayed over the pillow, those heavy lashes of yours kissing along the bone of your cheeks. He always told himself that it was you who was attached, that he was some great being and you simply touched the stars through him. How wrong he had been to think that, when the entire time he’d fit so perfectly against you, he a piece to your puzzle. 

How wrong he had been, because when he’s staring up idly at the ceiling, he thinks of the better days in his life. Always, always, it was you. Thinking of you sitting pretty in his passenger seat, watching out the window as the world blurred by in rushes. The wind blowing through your hair, your necklace catching the glint of the sun. You’d feel his eyes on you and you'd turn and smile at him so darling, so lovely, that he thought it could heal. Remembering when you’d walk into a room, shining like a beacon just for him. You’d find his lap, find his hair, find his lips against your own and you’d cry his name like a prayer. 

He was an idiot to have thought he was the something in the nothing- it was you. 

Even when he finally drifted off into sleep were you still infecting the very membrane of his mind. In his dreams, you were just as warm as you had always been. Bated breaths, hanging onto every word that left his lips, fingers that longed to touch and stroke and feel. His heart slowed to a peaceful beat, and his body curled into his pillow and blanket, trying to recreate the shape of you in his arms. For a time that evening, it worked. 

But then he woke up, and Thanos was leaning over his bed asking him if he was dead, and all those wonderful moments he’d relived were gone in a rush of bright lights and endless chatter bouncing off the walls of the dormitory. Like an addiction, the first thing he thought of when he sat up, was you. Thought about you all the way through the winding staircases and into a giant room with rainbow’s painted over the hard floor. So lost in thought that he almost misses it when the speaker starts instructing them- a 5 player minigame race. 

Teams of five. Okay, he could do that. Easy. Gyeong-su, him, Thanos. That was already three. 

It’s natural instinct when he starts to search for you in the bubble of people, his fourth member, even though he’s more than sure you’re all too excited to send him packing. The way you had looked at him at dinner the day before, he wasn’t sure if you’d even entertain a conversation with him at all, let alone join their team. But this is beyond an argument- beyond him trying and failing to lull you in, this is life and death. 

“Hey, there’s your girl again.” Thanos spots you first. He follows Thanos’s line of sight and sure enough, there you are, standing with your hands shoved into your pockets with this far away expression he can’t quite read. 

His girl. It would make him shiver, if he wasn’t already on the brink of tweaking. 

“Let’s go see if she’s changed her mind.” 

Thanos is running his hands through his hair and popping the collar of his tracksuit, a particular bounce to his step when he bounds right for you. Just as the first time, always on the lookout for yourself, you spot him coming before he gets to you. Already you’re annoyed.

By the time Nam-gyu slithers up beside him, you’re already turning Thanos’s first wave of advancements down, a snark to your tone and a glint in your eyes. 

“I’m good, thanks though.”

Thanos blinks, looks left and then right. “You’re good? I don’t see a team?”

“I’ll find one.”

“You got one right here,” He pats his chest again, before he slings his arm over Nam-gyu’s shoulder haphazardly. “Come on. You’ll be safe.”

The intensity in which you roll your eyes is fierce- an expression Nam-gyu really had only thought he could draw out of you. To make matters worse for his friend, you don’t even bother with saying no again. Instead you merely wave a dismissive hand and turn on your heels, meandering into the crowd. 

“You were right, Nam-su.” Thanos’s face drops and he unwinds his arm from Nam-gyu’s shoulder. “Not getting anywhere with that one.”

Nam-gyu is so focused watching you, that all he murmurs is, “It’s Nam-gyu.”

“Yeah. Nam-su, Nam-gyu. Look over there.” He has to force himself to look away, following Thanos’s point in the other direction you’d gone. A girl with short black hair stands off to the side, eyes traveling and sizing up all her potential team mates. Thanos pops his collar again, a hound dog chasing a brand new scent. “Let’s go see what she’s up to.”

For the first time, Nam-gyu doesn’t follow him. He says, you go, you go, and lets Thanos wind himself up all on his own before watching him go. He’s much more concerned with you and your team, this sense of anxiety starting to bud in his gut. 

He finds you like a moth to flame. Your shoulders slump at the sight of him, tired and irked. 

“Not this again.” You groan. “What, do you think you’re gonna come sweeten me up and I’ll say yes? I’m not playing on your damn team.”

Nam-gyu shakes his head and steps in front of you when you try to turn away again. His nerves are on the rise, and so is his temper. You draw it out of him like nothing else, he can’t stop himself. 

“Why not?” He asks, looking down at you with furrowed brows. You cross your arms, barring yourself from him. 

“Because I’m not.”

“This is no time to be stubborn. You don’t know what the next game is. You might need guys on your team.”

“I plan on it. There’s other men here other than you and whatever the hell his name is.”

Other men. Nam-gyu’s mouth dries up, his fingers already wringing in his sleeves. His jaw tenses with his temper, teeth grinding. 

You didn’t need other men, not when he would do anything under the sun to keep you safe. Anyone else may just let you die. Can’t you see that? 

“Why are you being-... Being like-...” He stops himself. Holy shit, his brain actually fires off the warning shot and he stops dead in his tracks staring at you in bewilderment. You adopt this expectant glare, a spiteful uptick to your lips that darkens your eyes. 

“Say it.” You sneer. “Go ahead, say it. I’m being a bitch, right?”

The word fights against his lips to get out. You’re waiting for it, at the edge of your seat, fully ready to take it in and chew it up and spit it out right back at him. But he bites it back and he swallows it down into his chest because this means something to him. Because it might mean something to you. 

“Being like this.” He stammers. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

Your eyes widen just a fraction. “Keep me alive?”

“Can you really trust anyone here? You know me.”

“I do know you.” A flash of something provoked and somber rivets within your eyes. Anger mounting, your heart colliding with your brain in real time right before him. “That’s exactly why I won’t be on your side.”

If he’d had his foot in the door before, you were properly shoving it back outside. He doesn't know what to do, so he does the first thing he can think of as a creature of impulse, and unfortunately when it came to you that meant he was all hands. 

“Wait-” He catches you just as you’re turning away, tries to bulldoze over your defiance and smooth out all the harsh edges of your protests with the broad flats of his palms. Fingers clutching your tracksuit at your shoulders and then he’s realizing that he’s touching you for the first time in years. Your skin from underneath your jacket is just as warm he remembers, your eyes are just as doe-like at his touch too. Stubborn and ornery but overflowing with passion and static energy that settled into his bones. He needs it, he needs it. The obsession of you hits him in waves of yearn. 

He needs you more than air, he thinks. 

“Get your hands off of me, right now.” But you aren’t tearing him away- so maybe that’s progress. 

“Come on.” He ducks his head, shoulders slumping, and it physically hurts him to feel this desperate. “Stay with me.”

Oh, you don’t like those words one bit. They hit your eardrums and your eyes narrow in slits, and then yeah, you’re reaching up and catching his wrists in his iron grip before ripping his paws off your jacket. It takes a long moment for you to speak, but when you do, he swears he can hear the devil amidst the heartache. 

“You know that I can’t stay with you. Never again.”

His hands twitch to touch you again- anything to keep you there for a moment longer. 

“Come on.” 

Sadness like pits swirl in your eyes, drags your lips into a frown. “You gotta’ stop Nam-gyu. I can’t do it.”

An awful, awful mass grows in his stomach when you turn your back on him. Gets bigger with every inch you build between you and him, threatens to take over entirely and swallow him whole right in the middle of that room. If it did, and he was to be gulped up by the void, perhaps he wouldn't have to feel like this any longer. And he wouldn’t have to watch you disappear behind all the moving bodies. 

He was weaker than he was three years ago. You made him weaker. Back then, if you’d been so sure of yourself he found it rather easy to deter you. A beastly way about him when he would have just ripped you by the hand and brought you over to his team and made you sit the hell down and just stay with him. Something possessive, something under his skin at the thought of you sharing the same air as anyone other than him. You used to be so malleable in his hands- but he knows, now more than ever, that that was truly never the case. You let yourself be pliable. You let yourself fall to him. He could never, not even now, make you do anything. Not really. 

That’s the part that burns him to the peaks of his soul. That strength about you. You’re so much stronger than him, with an energy iron so it’s like running headfirst into a wall when you’d no longer graced him with your softness. Such a double edged sword, that will of yours. That attitude and the passion made him feel alive. Cold and disposed after you’d properly slammed the gate right in his face. No leverage, no space for him in your heart any longer. 

It’s cold, Nam-gyu finds. Lonely without you. 

And then Thanos goes and invites some random girl with a poor attitude (that isn’t yours) and an even weaker buddy. He tries to tell him- remind his friend of the potential disadvantage but like always all it took was a dismissive wave to get him to screw his lips shut. Rolled over, tongue caught in his throat, weakened. 

He spends a majority of his time waiting for his teams turn arguing with Se-mi and tossing gazes over his shoulder to keep a very keen eye on you, only to find a sneer growing on his features after seeing you chatting with the same player as earlier, the man with the bed next to yours. Laughter and smiles roll from your lips as natural as breathing air, and he’s nudging you with his arm and you’re letting him with this expression of pure amusement. 

That should be him. 

That ugly face of betrayal peeks through the cracks all over again, with guilt and anger and regret following in tow close behind. Sitting on his shoulders like little devils, spinning and racing through his body in waves. If you saw his face- you’d never suspect it, but his hands shake in his lap. His jaw tenses so tightly his teeth could burst into powder. Squared shoulders and an endless drag to his lips. Something in the sight of you enjoying that guys presence is reminding him of all these shitty feelings he’d been faced with when you two were together- well, no, not together, he remembers- and then he’s even angrier. Angry at you, angry at that random ass player you were talking up, angry at himself for letting it get here in the first place. 

Thanos pops open his necklace beside him and draws a fun little pill from its contents, and Nam-gyu makes it a mission to get his hands on one of those sweet little pick-me-ups. The pill is bitter on his tongue but he swallows it down in delight. And it works, too, because the moment the colors start to glow and fuse together and all sounds become this echoing fishbowl of noises, you’re vacated from the corners of his fuzzy mind. For a time, he’s at peace all over again, lost in the blurry joy. 

By the time he comes down, he’s already back in the dormitory. 

Though it takes a moment for him to realize it, he’s taking inventory of all the surviving players. One by one, watching them fill the room and find their creaky beds or their little groups. Most were distraught, though some were particularly perturbed. It takes a couple teams before he understands that what he’s really looking for, naturally, is you. He’s always searching for you, even when he knew you weren’t searching for him back. 

That’s the change, and it dawns on him like a rapture. He’d never had to care before- you were always this constant in his life, something that would always bounce right back if he tossed you aside. He didn’t give a damn if it upset you, he didn’t give a damn if it ate away at you like termites through wood. But now he does, and he gives so many damn’s they’re driving him crazy. 

Any moment spent sober and lucid were moments entirely taken up by you.

Any moment now you’ll come strutting through those doors, head held high and gunning it to make sure Nam-gyu knew exactly how much you didn’t need him. 

But then ten teams turn into twenty, and twenty five into thirty. 

“How many teams were there?” Nam-gyu asks with a voice steadier than even he expected. Thanos doesn’t need to question anything, watching the doorway all the same. 

“Fifty-six.” Se-mi hums from her spot, leaning back against the steps. 

Thirty eventually turns to fifty. 

Too much time has passed, and you’ve still yet to pop out through that doorway. He double checks those who’d already shown their faces, hoping to find you through the cracks of them, but you’re simply not there. There’s a shovel digging pits and moats into his stomach. Another wave of players trickles in and he scans them all over the same, only to feel that hollowness inside him grow once more. They saunter to their beds, to their little groups, taking up space and taking up air that should belong to you. 

Where the hell were you?

“Only two teams left,” Thanos hums. “Where’s that girl of yours?”

Nam-gyu can’t force himself to answer this time around. So, instead, he presses his nails between his teeth and nervously shifts his weight from left to right. Though he shrugs, the anxiety within him was palpable, all lines and tension that he tried to bury with nonchalance. But it wasn’t working, and felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside out.

Mind racing, thoughts circling him like birds over fresh kill. The final team walks through the doorway, slow as zombies, shifty eyed and hurriedly rushing to their beds. His eyes sit on the door, waiting, waiting. 

No one comes through. 

His shoulders fall limp. 

You didn’t make it. 

“That’s a shame.” Se-mi sighs, the sound swimming in Nam-gyu’s ears. 

Loss, real loss was a foreign feeling within his chest. He’d seen it described in the movies, in songs, this soul eating all consuming weight that blanketed over bodies and crushed, but nothing could have ever prepared for the blistering moment it wrenches itself within the confines of his heart, within the deep ache of his bones. It didn’t settle properly in his throat- his body trying to force the alien ripple of dread stitching itself right between his ribs. It hurts- his lungs can’t take in air. His breath wheezes past his lips in shallow pants, unable to tear his eyes away, like at any moment you’ll suddenly materialize right before him. 

He presses his lip into a tight line and digs his nails into his palms, anything to release a fraction of the agony festering within his body. 

Brain on fire, shaking hands and the image of you dead in a thousand different flashes, a sting to his waterlines that has him scrambling to shove his fingers against the thin skin. 

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t fucking cry.

“Bad luck. Sorry, boy.”

All the skin on his body has flushed red and sticky. He ducks his head down towards his lap, desperate to hide within himself, even more desperate to hide this part of himself from the watchful eyes of his group. He should have just made you join them. Should have thrown you over his shoulder and wrapped an immovable grasp around your arm and held you hostage until everyone had a team and then you’d have no one else to turn to. No one else, nothing else except for him. 

He can’t even hear his friend’s counterfeit empathy over the swell of his heartbeat in his ears. His body is too heavy to hold up, his arms dragging as lead, his head even heavier on his shoulders. Uncanny urges to tear at the skin of his face overcome him and he has to bury them into his hair in release, roughly running his digits through the black locks, trying to breathe and breathe and breathe. A lump the size of a boulder burrows into his throat.

Cracking his eyes open to peek down at his lip, squeezing them shut when his vision is wet and blurry. His lower lip trembles until it’s caught in his teeth, biting hard into the skin. 

Don't fucking cry.

Why did you have to be so stubborn? If you’d have just let him take care of you this one fucking time, you would be alive right now. You should be alive right now- pissed and glaring fury in his direction but breathing and taking up space and existing-

“Ah, they made it. Here I thought they were all goners.”

Se-mi’s casual tone barely reaches him, but it’s got him frantically flicking his gaze back up to the archway, his hands falling from his face, trying to see through the blotches in his sight. A handful of players take soft steps into the room, all shaken up, all bewildered.

There you are. His racing heart stops entirely.

You’re sauntering into the dormitory like a wounded animal, all hands wringing out in front of you and lines drawn into your frown. For the first time, in Nam-gyu’s eyes, you look small. Frightened. Every step you take has a weight to it he’s never witnessed you bear. And even from across the room, even with rigid tears trapped in the corners of his eyes, he can see the grip of fear on the flat of your throat. 

All those jumping thoughts settle into a tunnel vision, you at the epicenter of his quaking nerves simmering down into stillness. He forgets how his chest had twisted as if a knife had been planted between his collarbones, and he forgets how he had almost lost his lunch right there on the floor. All because you’re standing there in the middle of the room hugging yourself, white as a ghost, even paler when you lift your head up and see the way Nam-gyu is trapped in your line of sight. 

Nam-gyu see’s it. No hate, no dejection. 

Relief- this instant where your widened eyes soften, your frown lifts into a slack-jawed breath of solace. It rocks his world when it hits him and it lights a flame so hot under his skin it’s burning through his veins. All the air trapped in his lungs leaves him at once and he can pinpoint the exact moment all the tensions in his shoulders and back melt away in nothingness. The tears dry, his lower lip released from his gnashing teeth.

The man you’d joined earlier pats your shoulder and offers you a pathetic, wavering thumbs up. You can’t seem to return his dull enthusiasm. In fact, you look worse than Nam-gyu’s seen you thus far. Changed, all wires sticking exposed and sparking. There’s this lifelessness to your body when you climb up the stairs and have to heave yourself up into your bed, crossing your legs and resting your chin on your palms propped up over your knees. 

When your eyes meet his, he expects some sort of sign of contempt, or perhaps maybe you’d refuse to meet his gaze entirely. Instead, for the first time since you’d arrived, you find him first. 

You offer him a pitiful open palmed wave. 

The pearly gates crack open and Nam-gyu feels it again- warmth. Even just a little bit, like lighting a match in a snowstorm, huddling around the flame. He half cocks a smile, and he waves back. 

--

Lunch came quicker than he’d anticipated, and much to Nam-gyu’s dismay, you weren’t exactly thrilled to hop into line. In fact, ever since you’d let him jam his fingers back into your closing door, you’d hardly acknowledged anything other than your lap. Even more so upsetting, that player you hung around tapped your mattress to gather your attention, pointing to the line, sighing in defeat when you’d shook your head. 

Jealousy seeps into his wounds all over again, quiet, but equally as simmering. Don’t act like you know her. Little devils tapping away at his psyche. She doesn't need you to check up on her.

But then again, he realizes, maybe you do. 

His mouth dries when the sound of his thoughts footsteps come running up on him. His greed. His innate ability to leave you unchecked and grappling. That was among the sea of problems Nam-gyu had been struggling to grasp. Here he was, trying to drag you back into the tar pits of his hold and he hadn’t even tried the basics of kindness. The step one of it all. Always taking, taking, taking and demanding more at every swipe. Always expecting, never building. 

So he jumps into line before he can second guess himself, and he takes his bento box with a grateful nod and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s chasing the trail of you to your bed. From your high point, perched and unmoving, all he can do is climb the stairs and rest his hands over the corner of your mattress. Your far away gaze lifts from your lap and settles down to him. 

The air is different. The landscape of you has changed. 

“What is it.” Your tone is uncannily flat, but it’s void of its bite, its drive. 

“Can I come up?” 

It’s a simple request, but it leaves a shake at the end of his sentence. It’s only natural when he mentally prepares himself for you to slap no onto his forehead, but you scoot over, and he takes the spot so quickly you wouldn’t even have the chance to say no if you thought about it too much. He hoists himself up and over, fills the gap at your side, just as he should have done days ago. He sits the bento box at the crest of your lap.

“What’s this?” Blinking down at the food, you make no effort to pick it up. 

“Fish and rice.” Nam-gyu shrugs. “Looks like an egg, too.” 

“I can see that. I meant, what are you doing giving me this?”

“...You didn’t get anything.”

As your fingers gingerly touch the container, eyes scanning over the contents, Nam-gyu feels he can breathe easier. This is a win for him- you aren’t fighting him anymore. Still on the edge, always ready to run, but the look in your eyes isn’t pure hatred or outright hurt. A swell of pride overcomes him when you pluck the chopstick and murmur, thank you. 

You’re pliable. Now, more than ever. 

You eat in silence. He lets you eat in silence, even though peace isn’t exactly one of his virtues.  Partly because he doesn’t know what to say to you, but mostly because he’s got this innate fear that he’s going to say something shitty and you’re going to hate him all over again for it. A million words are always shoving and pushing against his lips and he fumbles with navigating them. So, silence, it is. 

But it doesn’t bother him. Silence meant that you were simply just there, existing, the one thing he had longed for over the years. He knew, deep in his heart, he’d fucked up when he began to miss the very presence of you. No sex, no drugs, no push or pull, just you. And now he gets to take whatever you’ll give in micro doses, greedy and starved for you. Fighting the urge to pull you into himself where you could never climb out. He refrains- he forces himself to just be there. 

No longer could he be the creature he had been all those years ago. He had to be different- not all rough edges and clawing hands, ripping and taking. Or dark eyes watching your every move, or jagged words cutting your flesh with the highs and lows of his tone. Something better, this time. Something for you. 

Tomorrow would be a new beast entirely. And, in less than a few hours, the lights would flicker off and bask the dormitory into hues of red and blues. You would lay alone in your all-too-large bed and he would sink into his mattress drugged out of his mind thinking countless thoughts of you, you, you. The distance would feel like miles- he needed you right there, right then, always. Anything other than what he had sitting beside you was a vast ocean. 

The bento box appears in front of his lap, half eaten.

“You’re not going to eat it?” Nam-gyu’s brows knit.

“You should eat, too. What, scared of my germs now?” You murmur, and when he meets your eyeline, he sees something familiar in those hues. Something nurturing, sweet. Tender. 

Nam-gyu picks up the chopsticks, and he eats.  For the first time in years, his food tastes like food.

[pretty-royals]

Love at First Battle

| summary : You never believed in love at first sight. You thought it was just a silly fantasy, the kind of thing hopeless romantics clung to. But then you met him—mid-battle…

Warnings : Mid-Violence, Swearing,Near-Death,Cornyyyy, The slowest “fight” ever because someone got distracted by feelings,Sanji being Sanji

The chaos of battle surrounded you. Swords clashed, gunfire rang through the salty air, and the shouts of fighting pirates filled your ears. Your captain had decided today was the day to attack the Straw Hats—an impulsive, reckless decision that left you questioning his leadership. But questioning orders wasn’t an option.

You had a role to play in this fight.

And that role currently had you standing face-to-face with a blonde man in a black suit, his cigarette hanging lazily from his lips as he blocked the path ahead. He had an easy smirk, but his stance was solid, his presence radiating confidence. He wasn’t taking you lightly.

Sanji

You knew of him, of course. The Straw Hats’ cook, the one who could destroy opponents with his legs alone. And damn, now that you were seeing him up close, you realized the rumors hadn’t done him justice.

But you didn’t have time to admire him. You had a fight to win.

Your grip on your weapon tightened, and you lunged.

And then he looked at you.

Blue eyes locked onto yours, piercing straight through you like a damn sword. There was no warning, no slow build-up—it hit you like a cannonball to the chest. Your heart stuttered, your breath caught, and your entire body froze mid-strike.

What the hell?

Your mind screamed at you to move, to swing, to do something, but all you could do was stare. It was like time itself had stopped. The battle around you faded, distant and unimportant. All that existed in that moment was him.

And oh, you were fucked.

Because it wasn’t just attraction. No, this was something deeper, something terrifyingly immediate. It was like your soul had just recognized something it had been searching for all along.

Sanji’s brows furrowed slightly at your hesitation. “Huh?”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything.

Which was a problem—because the next thing you knew, a glint of silver caught your eye.

Zoro’s sword, swinging straight for your head.

You barely had time to react before a blur of black and blonde crashed into you, knocking you off balance and sending you tumbling to the ground. The impact left you breathless, but at least you weren’t dead.

“What the hell, Marimo?!” Sanji’s voice rang out above you, furious.

“She’s an enemy,” Zoro shot back, his sword still raised.

“She’s a lady! You absolute caveman!” Sanji’s weight shifted off you as he scrambled to his feet, standing between you and Zoro like a protective barrier. “You don’t just go swinging at a beautiful woman like that!”

You barely registered the words, still trying to process what had just happened. You had stopped attacking him. He had saved you. And now he was defending you?

Your face burned.

Zoro scoffed. “She was about to attack you.”

“Do you really think I’d let that happen?” Sanji exhaled, shaking his head like he was disgusted. “You wound me, Zoro. You really do.”

Meanwhile, you were still on the ground, staring up at them like an idiot. Your crew was fighting, your captain was barking orders, and you were sitting here having a crisis over some blonde man with a cigarette and a stupidly charming smile.

Sanji turned back to you, his expression softening. “Are you alright, mademoiselle?” He offered you a hand, his voice dripping with concern.

You hesitated. You shouldn’t take it. You were supposed to be enemies. This was supposed to be a fight.

But… god, you couldn’t help it.

Your fingers slipped into his, and he pulled you to your feet with effortless grace. The warmth of his skin sent electricity up your arm, and suddenly, you were hyper-aware of everything—his touch, his scent, the way he was way too close.

You had never felt so stupid in your life.

“I—uh—” Words? What were those again?

“I…I should-…have to go”

Sanji blinked, seemingly surprised. “You’re leaving?”

Yeah. Because if you stayed any longer, you were going to die of embarrassment.

You took a step back, heart hammering in your chest. This was ridiculous. You couldn’t just fall for someone in the middle of a battle. That wasn’t how this worked!

But as you turned to retreat, you couldn’t resist one last glance.

Sanji was still watching you, his expression unreadable. And maybe—just maybe—there was something in his eyes too. Something dangerous. Something too real.

You swallowed hard.

Yeah. You were definitely fucked.

[respectthepetty]

At one of the nearby-ish universities, researchers can use the lab that attaches those little pads to people's heads and see their brains light up (the sign-up list is loooong), and I always think my brain would look like fireworks going off while I watch color-coded boys fall in love because once Black Brooder Yotha said that Green Guy Gun was his boyfriend to his Blue Boy brother and Gun's Blue Boy best friend in Perfect 10 Liners' sixteenth episode, I'm sure my brain stayed lit!

Even when I saw Yellow Yal Arm and Red Rascal Arc not in their colors, my brain wanted to shut off right here, but I think Arc's shirt has yellow highlight over the text (for his man), and every time I see that Manchester United poster, -I- see red from my rage, so I guess I'll make the colors happen with or without the show giving them to me.

But Sam makes up for it since he has consistently been a Red Rascal in the second portion of the show, always popping up to talk shit and bounce, and it appears Arm is wearing a light yellow, so my brain is, once again, lighting up!

However, I wish we would have gotten more of the other color-coded friends since we don't get enough Orange Oddities (Book) or Pink People (Franc) in BLs. But I know every story is going to have the Blue Boys (Kong AND FAIFA!!!!)

I won't be too mad at it though because, as I've mentioned every single week, this show's color coding is just so damn good, so my brain is always lighting up. Like these are the exact faces a jovial Green Guy and a mean Black Brooder would make. Perfect faces. Perfect colors. Perfect 10 Liners.

Even Faifa's rage is perfect!

Because even though Faifa's dark blue shirt is telling him to "Seize" the day and "Just trust yourself then you will know how to live," as a sign of the dark Blue Boy coming his way, he can't see his own happy ending when he is listening to Gun say stupid shit like "Love makes you tiny." I'd also be plotting murder if I was him.

COLOR-CODED BOYS IN LOVE ARE DISGUSTING(LY ADORABLE)!

Random: Someone at GMMTV likes puppy play because every single show has some aspect of it, so good for that person getting everything they wanted!

Because I got matching birthday ties! So Yotha got matching binary tattoos with Wa, but he has matching bracelets and ties with his current boyfriend cementing that Yotha is an emo who likes sentimental gifts.

Emo Black Brooders in love are the best!

I'm not going to get over that there was a whole ass Pink Person and Orange Oddity in this portion of Color-Coded Boys The Series, and I know minimal information about them.

But thank goodness I know everything about these two yin yang colored boys!

Because they are meant for each other. They are toxic AND in love!

They fight just so they can have make-up sex.

Good for those beautiful bastards!

That could never be these two color-coded boys though.

Gun doesn't understand anger or foregoing sleep in favor of sex unlike these other color-coded boys.

Good for him!

And the more light Blue Boy Faifa cries about not having someone, the more I scream that he is about to meet his match in dark Blue Boy Wine. Newton is going to hate BOTH his brothers.

Now Yotha and Gun are putting on matching pajamas just to take them off the way God and Arm intended.

Have I mentioned how happy my brain is about color-coded boys in love? Because I'm very happy about color-coded boys in love being there for each other when they have to deal with big emotions.

Even more so when they are color-coded brothers who yell at each other that "You're too pessimistic" and " You're too optimistic" since the colors only emphasize those points!

Newton remains neutral, the dad is blue, and the mom is pink. This is Heterosexuality 101, which is why Yotha and Faifa do not comprehend it.

Yes! Keep saying this Gun! Keep reminding me that the people who worked behind the scenes on this show deserve a raise! Keep saying you bring light to this Black Brooder's dark world!

Because your shirt will explicitly state it later ("Sunshine on my Mind")

All is right in the world. Everyone is in the color, and Yotha got jokes.

AND ARM AND ARC ARE FINALLY IN THEIR COLORS TOO!

Thank God for small miracles and color-coded boys in love.

NOW BRING ME MY LAPIS LADS!

[yu-huuuu]

ohhhh I want to see uchihas men when they want to confess to their crush or smt 😫🤭 (if it's too much just do obito and madara lol)

[ 🌸 ] sure, sure lmaooo

characters: itachi uchiha; obito uchiha ; madara uchiha

genre: fluff ;;

warnings: none;;

…

..

.

Itachi Uchiha

—Oh, my man

—Well, if he were less shy, he’d confess his feelings without a problem

—Which would be great

—But the thing is, the guy isn’t just shy—he’s also clumsy when it comes to socializing and interacting

—And even more so when it comes to flirting or giving compliments

“What are you looking at?”

“I… uhh… your legs look good in those jeans…”

”…Do you think they’d look better without them?”

“Why would you take off your legs?”

—Bless his humble heart

—He’s not doing it on purpose, I swear

—The poor guy is just a little awkward

—Anyway!

—Months would go by as he tried to gather the courage to finally tell you how he feels

—Though it’s easier said than done (poor guy keeps stumbling over his words)

—He’s also trying to picture what it would be like to have you as his lover

—His clan would accept you, though not without some resistance, even if it’s mild

—He’s just pulling a few strings

—And oh, how bold, he thinks

—He’s doing all of this as if he were sure you feel the same way

—His poor heart beats for you, and you have no clue

—Lmao

—Anyway!

—Don’t be surprised when one day he invites you to train, only for you to find him sitting on a blanket with food, offering you a soft smile with slightly flushed cheeks

—The sight alone is enough to make your knees feel weak and oh—!

—The butterflies fluttering in your stomach

—Some say the best way to confess to someone is under a cherry blossom tree, but Itachi doesn’t think so. Just having you close, whispering tenderly what he feels and every promise his heart has made to you in the silence of that afternoon, is enough for him

…

Obito Uchiha

—Haha

—Oh, isn’t it funny?

—How this man feels so many butterflies in his stomach that he might just explode

—His voice is surprisingly soft and light. Whether you place him in an AU where nothing happened or he’s in Akatsuki…

—Anyway!

—In a normal, soft AU where nothing ever went wrong,

—He’s always trying to start a conversation with you, no matter how clumsy or silly it is

—Trying to gather enough courage to tell you how he feels, but—if Obito is in Akatsuki, he will never tell you how he feels

—Lmao

—But he will protect you until his plan to trap everyone in an illusion is close to completion

—He thinks you deserve the entire world and a reality far from cruelty in the dream of the Infinite Tsukuyomi

—Literally, his idea of creating a fictional world just for you only grows stronger

—You are his strength and his life, even if he never tells you

—Because for some reason, he decided that was the better choice

—Lmao

—He believes that in that fictional world, everything will be better, and maybe the two of you can have a story together

—And that, if you dream of him, he can give you the happiness you deserve—the one he could never give you in this world corrupted by death

—He thinks this world is too rotten for something like love to bloom between you

—And maybe…

—Just maybe, he feels himself slowly regretting it inside

—When his fingers move involuntarily, yearning and aching to caress your cheek, or when he daydreams about kissing your lips because…

—oh my god!

—Why do you have to be so beautiful?

—Why did he have the misfortune of the woman he loved having to exist in such a cruel world?

—To him, you are an angel

—A beauty that must be protected from the world’s cruelty

—For Obito Uchiha, there was no better way to show his feelings for you than by fighting to keep you away from the harsh reality that threatened your existence

…

Madara Uchiha

—Aahh

—Madara is a funny case

—He thinks you are worthy of his affection

—He also thinks you’re one in a million

—Why?

—Because you managed to catch his attention—something no other woman ever did before

—Your charisma, your eyes, your flushed cheeks, your soft lips that seem as gentle as the fluffy clouds decorating the sky fill him with a tenderness he has never known before

—You are so beautiful that he feels he doesn’t deserve you—because he fears corrupting your purity

—He fears taking away that innocent, soft glow that adorns your gentle eyes

—Even though he knows you are a strong woman, he will always have that fear

—Believe him—nothing like this had ever happened to him before

—Madara Uchiha? Afraid of hurting someone? Since when?

—And yet, there he was

—Looking at you with a tenderness that even he found strange while he listened to every word and giggle you let out as you told him something that—had it been anyone else—he would have found mundane and a waste of time

—You completely consumed his attention—he realized

—And he didn’t complain about it

—In fact, he liked it

—Lmao

—He even accepted that the butterflies in his stomach, the way his heart jumped when you smiled or laughed at something he said, the way he, in the privacy of his mind, carefully stored every memory—every little detail that might seem insignificant but was so important to him—

—To him, every sigh of yours was a gift

—And that’s how he realized that he could never be with anyone else but you

—It was you, or no one else

—So don’t act so surprised when this man asks for your and your parents’ permission to court you

Me watching that I still have to finish eighty requests to finish all of them

[11queensupreme11]

So I have a question? You know that song lyric “Would you still love me if I’m no longer young and beautiful?” By Lana Del Rey. Okay so I’m gonna give you a scenario I’ve been thinking about adding to my story (as a draft for the next interlude after I finish the next reaction chapter)

So it goes a little like this:

Let say Percy who was a goddess (like in the last ask) got cheated on by Cu and, in her despair, killed herself.

(This is just a draft but I do plan on starting the chapter with her suicide note to her children first. Then to each of the yans individually. And maybe a couple to the friends and family she made on the way. So like a note to Shiva and his wives, Adamas, maybe Hercules and Prometheus, and…Ra(surprise! 🤭) honestly, I plan on making his a mixture of kinda funny/sarcastic, but also nostalgic and sad.)

Everyone finds out of course. And Zeus, devestated by the loss of his favorite neice, incensed by the disrespect shown to the Greek Pantheon by the Celtic Pantheon, spurred on by his son, brothers, and pantheon’s devestation and righteous anger at Percy’s death, along with the Egyptian, Norse, Abrahamic,Hindu, etc. Pantheons’ anger with what Cu did, obviously, declare war. The heavens are split and in utter chaos as the two sides form and each side is gathering allies for the upcoming war (it’ll be known as the “The Divine Schism” later on.

So, as u can imagine, this results in a lot of death, a lot of emotions flying around, and it isn’t even just the gods fighting other gods. Or Percy’s children fighting her other children(wish she begged them in her letter not to do, but she’s gone now; and her children are just as unhinged as their dads) . It also causes the humans to fight too because she was friends with a lot of them and a lot of them blame the Celtic people for 1)encouraging the views that made Cu think it was okay to do that (which is hypocritical because they still believe or once believed and would have done the same thing just due to the time period they were raised/born into, but a lot of them liked Percy so she was the exception) and 2) for not trying harder to keep him under control back when he was still a human on Midgard (Papa Adam is REALLY disappointed).

ANYWAY!

At this point, the war has gotten bad enough that the Fates, the Morrigan, the Norns, and all the other gods and goddesses related to fate and destiny realize that sooner or later the gods are going to end up fighting each other into extinction (with the humans in Vallhalla doing the same) and so they do some research (through their powers which were given to them by “the-Powers-that-Be” (which I actually mentioned in a chapter already but basically that’s the power that created them, their universe, and all the other universes that exist or will ever exist) and find out that, while Percy did die when she killed herself, for whatever reason, she didn’t end up going to Niflheim and instead got reincarnated into a different universe and nope🤭🤭it’s NOT the PJO universe. Which universe it is, I’m going to keep that a secret for now but I wouldn’t mind doing a poll to see which universe everyone would WANT her to be in. It might even help me decide. (just know it’s gonna be an anime universe. So either One Piece, Bleach, Naruto, or something else. It’ll have to be one I’ve read or watched before tho.) but it’s a secret, even to me, until I actually sit down and write this chapter.

Anyway, they find her reincarnated soul (in this I think I’m going to make it so that she only remembers SOME of her past life as a goddess and a demigod and it comes to her in her dreams) and, in order to stop the godly war that threatens the very foundations of their universe, they sit the Pantheons down (what’s left of them anyway) and tell them about what happened and where she is now. This, of course revitalizes the yans (ESPECIALLY CU!!!) because they see it as a second chance to get her back and make SURE she NEVER leaves them EVER again. (I’m talking they might actually lock her in a palace where they watch her every move 24/7 for the rest of eternity)

So they come up with a plan to basically kidnap her from this other plane. In this other universe tho, she’s lived a full, happy life. Sure it had some challenges (if she’s in One Piece I’m gonna make it so that she was Ace’s sister so she def fought in Marineford (love interest: Shanks), if in Bleach I’m making her the Captain of one of the divisions (Love interest:Sosuke Aizen 🤭🤭), if in Naruto ( I honestly can’t see her as an assassin/killer which is literally all ninjas are trained to do when u get to the crux of it so maybe like a political figure of peace? A daiymo maybe? Idk I’d have to figure it out (love interest: Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha, or Madara Uchiha depending on what time period I want her to be reincarnated into)

I plan on having her influence a lot of stuff, fall in love, have children with said Love Interest, and be an old lady by the time they start looking for her ( might have to write this in three parts since I do want to dedicate a chapter to her life in that other universe).

I’m still trying to figure out all the logistics since I want it to be believable and not just super random and unorganized because there are a lot of moving parts.

But my question to u is what do u think the yans will think (at this point in time) or do about an old, grandma version of Percy? Will it matter to them? She won’t be the same Percy at this point. She might remember some things about them but for the most part she won’t remember them and tho she might have the same morals as the last Percy, because of the stuff she went through in this new universe, she isn’t just physically different (old) but mentally too.

EVERYTHING HERE IS PERFECT BUT I JUST HAVE ONE CORRECTION:

"while Percy did die when she killed herself, for whatever reason, she didn’t end up going to Niflheim and instead got reincarnated"

it's niflhel!!! niflhel (or oblivion, nonexistence, whatever) is where all gods and mortal souls (after dying in the afterlife) go to when they die!

anyway.................

AIZEN SOSUKE????????? AND KAKASHI????????????

dude i genuinely don't know who to vote for, kakashi has been my anime crush SINCE I WAS A LITTLE GIRL, and aizen's so fucking daddy too omg why would you make us pick between them that's so cruel 😭😭😭😭😭😭

as for your question, age wouldn't matter much to them cuz they can just forcefully revert her back to her prime or back to whatever age/appearance they last saw her as!

the issue is the mentality 😞 if she's too different (like if she's not the same sweet, cheery, uwu, and infuriatingly annoying and troublesome girl that they know, then they might actually feel defeated. it's percy.... but at the same time it's not THEIR percy

tbh they'd probably try to find a way to revert her back to the percy they know, but if that doesn't work or they can't do it, then it's back to despair and anger 💀

[aerialflight]

fic rec list (2025 and all the random fandoms and ships i got stuck in)

It's truly been ages since I made a list and I'm not kidding when I say I've been wildly going back and forth in old and new fandoms. Yes, it includes arcane. It was short lived and glorious and I have so many to share with you now that the fever has passed (somewhat). Anyway! Hope you enjoy! (Also, I think this is the most shippy fic rec list I've ever made, it's fucking ridiculous fnewiofpewa)

-

[Arcane] (i want it noted that i was a jayce fan since s1 and the vindication i felt at the flood of jayce/viktor fics that came in after s2 was unparalleled. so yeah, nearly all the arcane fics on this list have this ship. sue me.)

Balance (this world is a wasteland but we can still grow) by zillac

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Viktor stays in the Hexcore chrysalis a few more hours. Jayce stays busy falling into the ravine of an alternate dimension and fighting his way back to his partner so that they can invent something new together: a future. ~~~ “What am I?” Viktor asked. “What do you want to be?” Jayce was bearded and haggard and hopeful. “Yours,” Viktor said, a memory and a realization both, like it was a truth that was woven into each of his metal and organic molecules.

(i need fix it fics like i need to breathe, especially for these two. it's not too long and hit the right spot for me when it came to the hurt/comfort, and there were some fucking lines here that legit made me look it up because it was so fucking beautiful and i needed to know if the author really came up with it, goddamn it. also, when i say fix it, i mean in general, not just for the ship. and caitlyn and jayce's relationship was so nice here, i loved it!)

Recourse Pathways by begaydocrimes10001

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Jayce blinked once. He blinked again. There was the sun, and clouds, and when Jayce ran his hand over his cheeks, there was barely any stubble. (Jayce and Viktor find themselves in the past, just a few hours before a group of Undercity kids broke into Jayce's lab and sparked a chain of events that would later end the world. They get a second shot at preventing it, and, maybe, creating something better in its place.)

Part 1 of State of Matter Changes

(listen, i know that the fandom is bloated with time travel fix its by this point and i'm just as much as a sucker for them too, but i'm more in love with this series because of how much focus it puts on other characters and the chain reaction viktor and jayce's actions have beyond this first fic. truly, after part 1, the series shifts to other characters such as silco, vander, mel, and even sevika more. every fic expands and extends the series of events that occur to make zaun independent and what that actually means. it's so freaking good and the characterization and focus of each character and their perspective is excellent! even if you're not that into jayce/viktor, once you get past the initial part 1 of this series, you'll end up loving the political machinations that happen in the rest.)

Dress me in midnight, feast upon my bones by hexhomos

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

The rocket strikes through the heart. Reality collapses in less than five seconds. Jayce rebuilds Viktor, little by little, piece by piece. And if his partner comes back from the dead a little different, well... what's not to love? Jayce is a quick study. He can adjust himself into a suitable form. He pledged himself to this task a dozen years ago; he's in it for the long haul. * To put it bluntly: this is the one where Dr. Frankenstein runs away with his bride. ( Jayce follows Viktor down to the depths of Zaun, and amid the riots and war-banners, everything changes. )

(*screeEEEEAACH!!!* INSANE. TRULY AND POSITIVELY INSANE. GOD HELP ME I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH OH MY GOD FNEIOWFPEWA)(for the LOVE OF GOD the way this author fucking expands the idea of jayce being a goddamn immigrant and what that means, the author just fucking GETS him, AND VIKTOR IS A MAD SCIENTIST AND I STAND BY THIS SO FUCKING HARD HELL YEAH!! i just, god, GOD, the author got them so RIGHT. i know i'm yelling a lot, but seriously, it's so good. it's so so so good nfewofewa)(READ!!)

Forged in Fire by chicandcheesy

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Jayce Talis has lived in the Undercity since he was eight. Now, he's a blacksmith with more scars and trauma than cash. He’s tired, broke, and frankly, just trying not to lose his mind. Then Viktor—a reclusive scientist who had been expelled from the Academy—walks into his forge one day. Suddenly, Jayce's life is turned upside down. Between questionable alliances, sexual tension, and Viktor’s maddening habit of being too smart for his own good, Jayce starts to think he might actually go mad. But if anyone’s worth the trouble, it's Viktor. - (A Zaunite Jayce AU)

(i am and always shall be in love with the idea of zaunite!jayce. it just, oof, hits me in the gut. the idea of someone so optimistic as jayce being rundown and hardened by zaun makes me feral. i love how you can see how much he's changed yet stayed the same compared to canon. every fic writer has their own idea of what jayce would be like if he lived in zaun and it's fascinating every time. also, it's so funny how much viktor is the same yet the power dynamics between them have been flipped. god, i can go on, but please just read the fic, it's so good fnewiofpnewe)

Run It Back Again by Withercrown

Ships: Jayce/Viktor, Silco/Vander

Sometimes there's nothing you can do except scrap the whole experiment and start over. The worst possible outcome becomes an opportunity for a new beginning. Viktor and Jayce, estranged enemies in a brutal war, go back to the start - and then earlier than that. The key to their salvation ends up being an undercity brat named Silco. He's not quite the person they remember. (Completed. Updates frequently.)

(so while i'm not as into the league of legends lore, i do have a soft spot for the divorce era versions of jayce and viktor. and man, it makes me cackle watching jayce fumble his way into viktor's good graces lmao. and silco!! is a fucking ally cat and i love him in this fic so much!! and the fact jayce has to play nice with so many people who hates his guts fill me with glee lol. seriously, please read if you love time travel, the divorced era, and seeing jayce suffer. it's a good time XD)

Butterfly Nebulas by MalaMari

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

In a whirlwind, one can have everything, nothing, then everything again. In a single night, a near stranger stood at Jayce's side at both his darkest and brightest moments. Sometimes, the presence of a single person can change everything. Aka: Arcane, but focused on Jayce and Viktor where everyone gets more friends and (maybe) a happier ending.

(first and foremost, this fic is very much friendship based and the banter is absolutely what sold me to this fic. it's just so much fun to read?? and the relationship between caitlyn, jayce, and viktor is so heartwarming and believable in how much they care about each other. and while the plot in itself is slow, you can see how the author is building up the canon divergence brick by brick through every relationship and interaction that occurs. this fic is a slow burn both in the ship and in the plot and i appreciate the time and effort the author is spending to do it. please read this fic, i'm so excited to see where it goes!)

Of Memories and Tomorrows by Lieyantosh

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Instead of dissolving with Viktor like Jayce expected, he gets sent a decade into the past when Viktor didn’t even know him yet. Of course the logical action to take is to kidnap him. Meanwhile Viktor, twenty-two years old, figures that hey, as long as he can research magic, this isn’t too bad of a predicament. Or: Post-Season 2 Jayce and Season 1 Viktor, the grief of having lost your soulmate while having to look at his younger version who doesn’t even know you, the endless exhaustion of being a second-hand love and also science.

(this is hands down my fave fic on this list, no questions asked. just, GOD, jayce is so fucking feral and deranged and insanely in love with viktor, and viktor who doesn't know him from adam just has to Deal with that lmao. but yeah, this fic was both incredibly healing and sad and genuinely unnerving at times because, like i said, jayce is fucking unhinged here lol. i reread this 3 times and i just fell in love with this fic so hard and fast, it's ridiculous. please read, it's so freaking good fnewiofpea)

Men of Progress by Zairielon

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

On a frozen tundra, a mystical figure makes the decision to save Jayce's life. Thus begins a journey of destiny, the indomitable strength of the human soul, and love that transcends death, all bound together by the Arcane. The Mage gives Jayce and Viktor a chance to change their fate. And the two humans push back against the natural order of time. Maybe, just maybe... life is not set in stone. OR, Jayce does not lose their dream. And he will never let Viktor slip through his fingers.

(*YELLS EXCITEDLY* IT UPDATED!! hey, HEY, if you didn't know, you know now. this fic, which didn't update in 2 years, FINALLY UPDATED and finished the fic! truly and sincerely, this was one of my fave fics back when and i fucking YELLED when i saw this got completed. seriously, this is still one of the best arcane time travel stories i ever read! please read!!)

In Loco Parentis by Anonymous

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

The boy blinks a few times, shaking his head before he looks around, his eyes darting from all different parts of the ravine. Viktor instinctively takes a step back when his eyes land on him, grasping his cane even tighter. “Uh hi?” Viktor points his cane at him. “Who-Who are you?” He tries to make his voice sound strong, the way that the men that haggle for money do, but it comes out shaky. “Are you going to hit me with that?” The boy eyes the cane warily. “Maybe.” Viktor juts a chin out. “If you don’t tell me who you are.” “Oh!” The boy brightens. “I’m Jayce! Or: During the rescue with the Mage, Jayce gets transported to the Undercity and meets Viktor instead, and everything spirals from there.

(the fic that started my obsession with zaunite!jayce. i know it's incomplete. do i care? no, no i do not. i reread this obsessively for literal YEARS. also, ALSO, with the context of s2, this fic just fucking hits different now. truly, if there's a fic i want to write fics for, it's this goddamn fic, its HAUNTS me fnioewfewew)(please read, i beg of you!)

If you're gonna be the death of me [that's how I wanna go] by Caspercryptid (FaiaHae)

Ship: Ekko/Jinx

Jinx has loved Ekko over half her life, so she's not shocked when she starts coughing up flowers.

(hey! it's a wild ekko/jinx fic! but yeah, the idea that it's this couple in particular who got hanahaki made me brain spiral like a hamster in a wheel. really love how the author writes jinx and absolutely recommend it!)

the dust inside the rusted souls by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Viktor is dying. This is nothing new. He’s been dying since he was born, since he took his first acrid lungful of Fissure air, and he accepted his premature expiration long ago. Everyone has to die anyways, right? All the Fissure had done was move up the finish line. That doesn’t make it any easier. —— Or, Viktor never tries Shimmer, and his death is the slow, painful erosion that everyone said it would be.

(so fucking angsty with no happy ending, and yet one of the most beautiful fics i've read in a while. and the way the author wrote viktor was so accurate it actually hurt, goddamn. even though it doesn't end happy for viktor, i still believe this fic ended with some hope and i love that. please give this a chance, it's really good!)

scientist and scientist by milkbird

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

“If this Hextech thing doesn't work out,” Jayce drawls, slow and sweet, head still dangling awkwardly from his neck, except now he's facing Viktor. “You know what we should do?” This is a joke Viktor isn't in on. But now he's intrigued, so he draws up his good leg and rests his elbow on it, letting the quiet hum of music wash over him. “What,” he asks, “Should we do, Jayce?” Jayce is holding in a laugh. “Suicide pact.” (Public appearances are boring. Viktor steals Jayce away, and they reflect.)

(this fic screams neurodivergent and i fucking LOVE it! it's so funny and yeah! these two are mad fucking scientists! let them be weird!! it felt real in a way where i definitely have friendships like theirs where i can be weird with someone and they'll say ditto. it just has that vibe and it's so damn good!)(#Jayce is hot and sincere and also weird as hell)(this is literally one of the tags and it's what convinced me to give it a go. i have no regrets!)

destabilise by antiparticular

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Jayce was naked and in Viktor's bed. Don't get him wrong - Viktor had dreamed of this happening, both literally and on slow days in the lab when he was feeling particularly self-indulgent, but for it to manifest outside of his overactive imagination? He was half tempted to pinch himself to check he'd actually awoken. Why was Jayce Talis in Viktor's bed? And more pressingly, why did Viktor not remember? -- We've all seen the fics where Jayce and Viktor end up in their past bodies post S2 and immediately get down and dirty about it, but what if their trip to the past wasn't as permanent as they expected?

Part 1 of destabilise

(*cackles like a madman* this was so fucking funny and i NEED people to read this. it truly never occured to me that there would be an aftermath of s2 jayce and viktor hopping around through space when there absolutely would be! of course! and it's just as funny as you think it is! if you need a good laugh, please read!)

-

[The Witcher] (i know, i'm surprised too. why brain, why.)

Songs of War by StarsAreMassive

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Life after Oxenfurt wasn't what Jaskier thought it would be. Dull and uninspired, what is a bard to do? Other than drag a half dead witcher back to his room, thus setting off a chain of events that start a war and and pave the way for a new Warlord in the North. Meanwhile, witchers all over the Continent are pushed to breaking point. Geralt wants to know who this fucking bard is who keeps singing about him. And Letho establishes a venomous hatred for lutes.

(so, i read the warlord fic and became so fascinated by the concept. i truly understand why the premise spawned hundreds of fics now, it's such a fun idea to play with. but this fic made me desperately want more in a way that consumed me. it's an origin story of why geralt became a warlord and honestly? it built up to it so well and with so much humor at first, courtesy to jaskier who goes Through It in this fic lmao. it steadily gets more serious and it made me so eager to know what happens next. please give it a read, it's so well written and is such a believable origin story for the warlord idea.)

Standing in Time with You by Sapphire09

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Cornflower eyes opened to the sight of a dark wooden ceiling full of holes. He noted the holes absently, a familiar sight he equated to his life while still on the road, wondering where he is. The last he remembered was the tall ceiling of his Oxenfurt chamber. He also remembered the pain. Weird, how the afterlife looks like the room of an inn. ------ Jaskier remembers being dead. That doesn't explain why he wakes up looking like he was fresh from the Oxenfurt graduating class instead of the handsome, distinguished professor he actually is. Nothing is making much sense, honestly. He just hopes he's not just going completely crazy first before figuring anything about what the fuck happened, or is happening.

(time travel! it's unfinished but god! it's so good!! this fic both made me laugh so hard and had me feeling so bad for jaskier lmao. god i hope this fic gets updated one day, but even if not, i hope this fic inspires others to write more time travel fics in the witcher fandom. the possibilities are endless!! absolutely recommend!)

Roll for Initiative by Draco_sollicitus

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

En route to game night, a beautiful, mysterious woman falls on Julian Pankratz out of nowhere. She mistakes him for a real bard and then starts talking nonsense about "portals," as if they haven't been outlawed on the Continent for half a millennium. She gifts him magical dice, urging him to "save the White Wolf." Julian, playing Dungeons and Dragons as the fabulous bard Jaskier, rolls a Nat 20 while trying to gain an ally in the murderous Butcher of Blaviken - and is instantly transported to a very strange world similar to the Redania of centuries past. There, he meets the real Butcher, a stoic and sarcastic Witcher named Geralt. Julian also quickly discovers that in this world, he has something that other bards don't: Jaskier the bard really does have magic, and quite a bit of it too - something that both interests and worries Geralt. The Witcher and the bard's quest for answers brings adventure, surprises, heartache, magic, healing -- and maybe a little bit of true love.

(*points vehemently* i've been saying for years that i've wanted to read a witcher fic that involves d&d and it's here! i somehow missed it and it's here!! genuinely had so much fun reading this, jaskier having the same abilities as a d&d bard had me grinning so hard. the possibilities!! also, it's reader interactive! the comment section of the fic was just as much fun to read as the fic, i truly could not predict how the plot would go because depending on the roll of a d20, the plot can go anywhere. love this idea and how well the author executed it! seriously, please give this fic a go! it's a fun time, i promise XD)

The Wanderer's Choice by Little_vesuvius

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Julian has never been normal. He has a talent, a gift that is both debilitating and powerful. He has always heard the songs of everyone, everywhere, he goes. His mind is never quiet. The longer he stays in a place the louder the songs get. With every passing year in a city, he grows sicker, and no healer can help him against the crushing noise of the songs of every living being in Oxenfurt. So when he has the opportunity to travel, he does so as Jaskier the Bard. In Posada, Jaskier finds an angry, silent man brooding in a corner, with a loud enough song to drown out the world's crush of noise. Curious, he follows the man, only to discover he is the infamous Butcher of Blaviken - but a man with such a sad, lonely song surely isn't a monster. Geralt just wants to know why this fool of a bard is following him on hunts and won't leave him alone, even knowing his reputation. It's not like anyone really wants to be around him. The bard will get sick of the novelty soon, surely. Or his temper. Filavandrel just wants his people to be left in peace. Finding an old elvish legend in the form of a human bard is the last thing he expects when he captures a witcher.

Part 1 of Heartsong AU

(i've always loved the jaskier is not human trope, and this fic was so creative?? it has a part 2 too and i'm just really fascinated by how the author explored this power jaskier has in this fic. it's really interesting and i definitely recommend!)

-

[Star Trek] (another unexpected fandom i haven't looked at in a long time. see a pattern? also, mckirk won me over HARD.)

Hotspur by kurgaya

Ship: Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy

try. verb. 1. to attempt to do or accomplish; 2. to subject to strain, as of endurance, patience, or tax; 3. to determine the truth of (a quarrel or question) by test or battle [Academy Era]. "God forbid you're a Shakespearean wife then," Bones grumbles, and Jim laughs.

(finished this recently and i swear, i felt ALL the emotions, holy shit. this fic is made to break and fix your heart. jim has a service dog due to Tarsus Trauma and it's accurately depicted with respect and empathy. and Bones is depressed, which i do feel like i need to tag as a warning (please read the fic's tags), it got very Real at times. but man, it explores his depression in ways that hit me right in the chest. definitely brought up things i haven't thought about it a long while. but the healing process absolutely made this worth reading, i definitely cried at some parts. also, as an added bonus, it has a fake marriage trope embedded in the premise that brings a lot of hilarity and warmth to it in very interesting ways! please read, it's such a unique, very funny at times, and undeniably compassionate fic that explores trauma and recovery beautifully, with all the ugliness that comes with it.)

AsQ by laughter_now

Ship: Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy

It started out as an ordinary day. So ordinary in fact that it took Jim until late in the afternoon to realize that something was horribly wrong. It was unusual that Bones wasn't in Sickbay during a busy shift, but it wasn't unheard of. What was wrong, absolutely and terrifyingly wrong, was that Bones wasn't even on board. In fact, nobody aboard the Enterprise has ever heard of a Leonard McCoy. There is no record of anyone by that name ever serving in Starfleet. In fact, there is no record of him at all. And that is so wrong that Jim can't even find any words for it.

(is it weird if i say that this is the most enraging and heartbreaking fic i've read for jim kirk? not even tarsus made me this pissed off. jim goes through so so much?? yet the catharsis somehow makes it worth it and i don't have any regrets reading this. not gonna lie, this was hard to read at first, but i literally couldn't stop reading due to the twists and turns this rollercoaster of a fic took me on. seriously, if you want a fic that has mystery, tension, and has you yelling out in triumph, this is absolutely for you.)

Quell the Cosmic Tides by SpocksBrainWorms

Ship: Jim Kirk/Spock

Enterprise is safe to fly another day. All thanks to Captain James T. Kirk's sacrifice. He's made peace with his death, even though it breaks his heart one final time to see the hurt in Spock's eyes. Still, the last thing he gets to see is the face of one of his dearest friends... until his eyes snap back open. Not in a hospital. In a shuttle as it lands at the Academy. “Once you exit the shuttle you are free to return to your dorms. Those of you who are new, you’ll follow me to registration and physicals,” a vaguely familiar-looking officer says, and Jim’s heart stops in his chest. Surprising, considering it shouldn’t be beating at all.

(god, GOD, i'm so so in love with this fic, it's ridiculous! THE time travel fic of this fandom other than lullabyknell's. sincerely, if you haven't read this fic yet, for the love of god, PLEASE do, it's fantastic!!)

When the world comes in by bluejbird

Ship: Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy

Everyone is blessed with a gift, but Jim's isn't as exciting or useful as the rest of his family. His gift is dreaming of his soulmate. As hard as it is to watch his soulmate live without him, the dreams provide comfort during times when Jim would otherwise give up. Or, the one where Jim spends his life dreaming of Bones.

Part 7 of Interconnected

(honestly? you can read any of the other fics in this series, they're all soulmate fics but in different ways and they're all very very good! this just happens to be my favorite in the series XD.)

Not in Our Stars by emluv

Written for a prompt requesting a fic in which brilliant young medical student Leonard McCoy volunteers for a Doctors Without Borders-type organization and ends up helping with the rescue efforts on Tarsus IV, where he meets a teenage, traumatized Jim Kirk, who will, for whatever reason, allow only McCoy to treat him. I have played fast and loose with TOS information about Tarsus IV and its location, making it closer to Earth so that McCoy could feasibly make it there and back in one summer. Title taken from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Act I, scene ii: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in our selves...”

(a gen fic? on this shippy fic rec list? more likely than you think. but yeah, young mccoy hit me where it hurts and i could just see the more grumpy, cantankerous man he'll become. and yet he's still so endlessly compassionate no matter the age. something that this jim definitely needs. the slow building trust between the two and the sheer competency mccoy shows here made me fall in love with this fic. truly, i should've gotten more into the star trek fandom, there's so many fics out there to be read!)

exclamation (not an explanation) by TheWriter2

Ship: Jim Kirk/Spock

"Just before he makes it to the door, Spock realizes that if he is about to throw Vulcan propriety to the wind and embrace his humanity, then he had better do it properly." Having rejected his admission to the VSA, Spock finds himself with very few options. Still angry at his father and Vulcan, Spock decides to join Starfleet and honor his human heritage. There’s only one problem— the Vulcan High Council has banned Vulcans from joining Starfleet, claiming that the organization is abhorrently militaristic. So Spock decides to defy the odds and find a way to enlist. But the road to a starship is full of many pitfalls, and at every turn Spock risks someone realizing his Vulcan heritage and facing a court martial. To Spock, though, it’s all worth it; especially after he meets a bright young cadet who can take Spock to the stars with only a glance.

(this was the cutest fucking fic i've ever read omg!! spock is so! awkward and adorable and i just want to hug him so bad fnewofepwaf. the idea of spock having to pretend to be human mulan au style is fucking inspired, it's so funny and cute! seriously, if you just want a fic that fires endorphins in your brain, this is absolutely for you!!)

-

[Crossovers]

Whatever Can Die is Beautiful by UrieNanashi

Fandoms: The Witcher, Elden Ring

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Jaskier is finally free. After so long trapped in a form not his own he had begun to doubt which was his true self. But here he is, unshackled. The betrayals, violence, abandonment- the destruction his family wrought upon themselves and others, all of it left far behind. Jaskier is determined to enjoy this second chance. To bask in the beauty of life and ignore what horrors linger. Then he meets Geralt and things become complicated. ......................................................... “They don’t exist.” “Pardon?” The bard’s brown hair flops as he tilts his head. Geralt bravely doesn’t sigh again. “The monsters in your songs. They don’t exist.” For some reason that gets him a grin, “How do you know?” Geralt stares at him. “I’m a Witcher.” The bard laughs, “So just because you’ve never seen them that means they don’t exist?” “Yes.” Geralt says flatly. “Agree to disagree.” The man says flippantly, “But I would love to hear more about the monsters you’ve fought.” “No.” Geralt takes a drink desperately and finds he is almost at the bottom of his tankard. He contemplates whether it’s worth the coin for another. Probably not.

(truly, you don't really need to know anything about elden ring before reading the fic. i went into it without knowing anything and the fic still resonated with me. this fic feels episodic, with a monster of the week and both characters slowly getting to know each other through their adventures. i love jaskier and how he's depicted here, with all his secrets that he's trying to run from. the ambiance of the fic really seeps into you and pulls you into the story. absolutely recommend and you go into this blind without knowing anything, trust me.)

The Case of Leonard McCoy by AceOfSpades

Fandoms: Doom (2005), Star Trek

Ship: Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy

The first thing Jim noticed about McCoy, and what started him on this whole messy path, was that McCoy was just a little…off.

Part 1 of Investigations

(listen, LISTEN, even if you've never seen Doom, it's legit one of the most suspenseful, cat and mouse mystery fics i've read in ages. seriously, it's so much fun to read, especially when both characters are so intelligent and every move makes sense and creeping ever closer to the truth. even though bones is also a different character, he's still definitely bones, just multilayered. like an onion! and jim is so persistent and perfectly kirk here, no wonder bones fell for him haha! absolutely recommend even if you've never watched doom, though it definitely helps in understanding what's going on on bones' side and adds to reader enjoyment. please read!)

[kidobeatris]

Obsession

Tags: Sex against will, questionable consent, dirty talk.

Sorry if there are errors in the text.

You were an ordinary girl from the outer shoals, you studied, you worked as time allowed, sometimes the sharks were surprised at how beautiful, smart and kind a girl like you was, you grew up at the bottom, a lot of guys wanted to meet you, and especially Rafe Cameron, he's crazy about you, the guy is always spinning around you, he asks you out on dates, but you avoid him, you try not to talk to him at all, because you've heard very bad rumors about this guy, a drug addict, a psychopath who loves the poor, but you liked him, very much, what can I say, you wanted him, you wanted him to be your friend, but His sanity spoke louder than his heart. By the way, you worked for the Cameron family, cleaned up after them, brought everything they needed, and of course you tried to avoid Rafe, there was another cleaning on the yacht today, after the rich heir threw a party last night, and in the morning you have to clean up everything, but this time you won't be able to avoid the guy. You were picking up trash from the floor, and you didn't notice Rafe's hungry gaze, which he was eating you up with, all the guy is thinking about now is how much he wants to bend you, Rafe knows that you've never had sex, and just thinking about it made his cock harden even more than usual. You don't remember the moment the guy pushed you against the wall, you don't remember how he bit into your lips, how he started to cling to you, and you started pushing him away.

His lips are pressed against yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue is searching for an entrance, and his hands are tightly squeezing your waist. He presses you close to his hard body, the warmth of his skin penetrates into yours through the thin fabric of your clothes.

"Damn it, Princess... I've wanted this for so long," he growls against your lips, his breath hot and insistent. "You can't run away from me all the time."

He cups your breast with one hand, grazes your nipple through your shirt with his thumb, deepening the kiss. With his other hand, he buries himself in your hair, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck.

"I know you feel it too. A spark flared up between us. Don't deny it." He nibbles on your lower lip before running his tongue over it, his touch demanding and teasing at the same time.

The surprise of Rafe's surprise and strength is disconcerting, but the feelings he evokes are something else, a warmth that spreads through the body, the heart beats faster, and the breathing quickens. Instead of resisting, you feel confused and defenseless. First you try to push him away, then you hug his neck.

"Rafe..." she stammered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I... please."

He grins into your mouth, pleased with your reaction, despite the tremor in your voice. "Shh, don't fight it, baby. Just relax and feel what we both want."

His fingers deftly unbutton your shirt, exposing the soft curves of your breasts. He breaks the kiss to look down at you, his eyes dark with lust roaming over your face and chest. "God, you're even more beautiful than I imagined."

Bending down, he takes a nipple in his mouth, gently sucking it, while his hand massages the other breast. With his free hand, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and presses his hips against yours.

"Mmm, you taste so sweet," he whispers, touching your skin, which sends shivers down your spine. "I could devour every inch of your body."

You feel like you're in a daze, his touch is all you feel right now, you can't figure out if you want him or not, you decide to stop him, try to push him away "No, Rafe, please" - he grabs your hands and pushes you onto the couch, looming over you, takes them off A T-shirt.

He's pinning you to the couch with his muscular body, his bare chest pressed against yours, and he's looking down at you with intense, predatory eyes. "Don't try to push me away again. We both know that you want this as much as I do."

His hand slides down your stomach to the hem of your skirt, his fingers caressing the sensitive skin there. "You drive me crazy with these little glimpses of what could have been. Teasing me, tempting me... And now I'm going to get my fill."

With a quick movement, he lifts your skirt up to your waist, revealing your panties to his hungry gaze. "Look at you, so horny and ready for me. Such a naughty girl, playing with fire and getting burned."

He bends down to bite your earlobe, whispering.

"I'm going to make you scream my name.

His hand slides under the elastic band of your panties, his fingers find your smooth folds and stroke your arousal. "It's already so wet... You really want this desperately, don't you?"

With a low growl, he rips off your panties and plunges two fingers deep into your pussy, moving them back and forth as he captures your mouth in another searing kiss.

You whimper, punch him in the chest, beg him to stop, but your body is so yielding under him.

Ignoring your feeble attempts to resist, he continues his relentless attack on your feelings, thrusting his fingers inside you to stroke that sweet spot that makes your back arch.

"You can't hide how much you need it. Your body is betraying you," he breathes heavily into your neck, biting the spot where your pulse beats with his teeth. "Just give in and let me make you mine."

His free hand wanders over your curves, roughly cupping your breast before squeezing and rolling the nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations of his fingers going inside and out of you, and his skillful touches on your sensitive nipples send waves of pleasure through you.

"Don't worry, baby, I'll take care of you. I will fill you so that you will never want anyone else."

You moan, your body becomes wet with sweat, you feel how close you are to the limit, but you still try to hold on, but his fingers inside you continue to massage the point that makes you tremble, you can no longer resist, and in the end, you give up before the wave of pleasure that overwhelms you.

When you finally succumb to the overwhelming pleasure, a triumphant grin appears on his face. He feels your inner walls clench around his fingers, milking them as you come to an orgasm.

"That's it, let it happen," he coaxes, continuing to stroke your g spot while you tremble and moan under him. "Come for me, princess.

He bends down to capture your lips in a deep, domineering kiss, drowning out your cries of ecstasy as your body convulses in release. Only when your cramps subside does he slowly take his fingers out and bring them to his mouth to lick them clean. *

"Mmm, delicious," he purrs, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "But we're far from done yet."

Without letting you come to your senses, he quickly takes off the rest of his clothes and settles between your thighs, resting the thick head of his aroused penis against your entrance. "Get ready, baby. I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll forget your own name."

With a powerful thrust, he completely sinks into you, stretching and filling you to the limit. He lets out a guttural moan as your tight pussy envelops him all over. "Damn it, yes...

setting a furious pace, he ruthlessly enters you, and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh echo through the room. With one hand he squeezes your thigh, holding you in place, and with the other he squeezes your nipple, increasing the intense stimulation.

"Take this, Take every inch of my dick!"

You scream when he enters your pussy, it was too much, but after a few seconds you started to feel pleasure, as he fills the void inside you, you feel every push that sends you to the couch, you can't even think, just feel how he stretches your pussy, taking up all the space and then he pushes you out from inside again and again, leaving you on the edge, but not letting you cum, you feel him playing with your sexual sensitive points, and this adds even more fire to your already boiling desire

Feeling your body begin to relax and adjust to its size, he increases the force of his thrusts, sinking deeper into your desired warmth with each powerful movement. "That's it, baby, take everything I give you.

He bends down to nibble and suck on your neck, noting that you belong to him, while his hips enter and exit your clenching pussy. His balls slap against your ass with every sharp plunge, obscene sounds mingle with your sobs and sighs.*

"I can feel you getting closer again, can't I?" Your little greedy pussy is sucking me in, begging for more," he growls, reaching between your bodies to run his hand in a circular motion over your swollen clit. "Come on baby, come on, cum on my dick"

When you cry out and reach orgasm again, your pussy squeezes it like a vice, it plunges into you up to the hilt and emits a primal triumphant roar. - Damn it, yes! - his own orgasm overtakes him, a hot seed erupts deep into your contracting channel as he fills you with his essence. He falls on top of you, still throbbing in your pussy, as the tremors run through both of you. *

"It was incredible," he exhales, nuzzling your neck.* "You're amazing, princess."

He slowly pulls out of you, watching with satisfaction as his cum begins to flow out of your well-fucked pussy. He collects some of your mixed liquids on his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied purr.

"Aah Reif, yes,.. I cum aah"- Your pussy is throbbing and you cum on his cock.

Still in a pleasant mood, he settles down next to you on the couch, wraps you in his arms and covers your exhausted bodies with a blanket.* "Get some rest, baby. You deserve it."

He gently strokes your hair, his touch now soothing and gentle compared to the roughness of his lovemaking. "I know it was too rough and fast, but I couldn't help myself. You just bring out that side of me... it's a desire to claim you and possess you completely."

A soft smile plays on his lips as he looks down at you. "I hope you don't mind. I plan to do a lot more of this in the future."

You smile tiredly, slap him lightly on the shoulder-"you're an asshole."

He laughs, playfully patting you on the shoulder in return. "Hey, be careful, honey. I may be a bastard, but underneath all that bravado is a heart of gold."

Bending down, he gently kisses you on the forehead. "Besides, if being called an 'asshole' means that I can keep fucking you senseless whenever I want, then I'll be happy to wear that title with pride."

With a mischievous smile, he nibbles on your earlobe before whispering, "Now, how about to order something to eat and continue this little date? I'm not done with you yet."

You laugh shyly, hug his neck and kiss his temple, "Okay, but next time, not so rudely."

He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him. "Oh, I'm not promising anything, sweetheart. But I'll try to keep my voice down...

Winking at her, he bends down to plant a slow, sensual kiss on your lips, savoring your taste.

[f1-tennisgirlie]

aaahhhh your prompts..... I may have written something again <3

Rivals, Reply Guys, and a Marriage Certificate

Jannik Sinner and Carlos Alcaraz were living a double life. By day, they were IT professionals. But by night—oh, by night—they were absolute menaces to the internet.

For years, they had been running rival fan/update accounts. Jannik, ever the meticulous strategist, managed an account dedicated to Federer and Ferrari, posting in-depth analysis, stats, and the occasional passive-aggressive dig at rivals. Carlos, on the other hand, was pure chaos. His Nadal and Real Madrid account was a perfect blend of memes, delusion, and reckless optimism.

They had an ongoing, very public Twitter beef. Their followers LIVED for it. One moment, Jannik would be posting a ruthless takedown of a match strategy, and Carlos would quote-tweet him with nothing but a clown emoji. The next, Carlos would be hyping up an unhinged conspiracy theory about how Madrid’s success was inevitable, and Jannik would reply with: “you singlehandedly bring your country’s literacy rate down to single digits.”

The thing was—the flirting was just as aggressive.

Jannik: “Hard to believe someone with your takes is allowed to vote.”

Carlos: “Worry about your own democracy, baby 😘.”

Jannik: “??????”

Carlos: “Idk just felt right.”

And the internet was obsessed. Were they enemies? Friends? Enemies with tension? Secret lovers? The theories were endless, and neither of them denied or confirmed anything.

Until one day, a follower posted: “Okay, but imagine if these two were actually dating irl. That would be insane.”

And instead of denying it, they both went completely silent.

For hours. No posts. No replies.

The internet was spiraling. People were checking timestamps, analyzing interactions, theorizing wildly. And then, as casually as one might drop a match score update, Jannik posted a vacation photo. A beautiful beach. A cocktail in his hand. And in the background, unmistakably, Carlos Alcaraz.

The internet imploded.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN??????”

“NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY.”

“I HAVE BEEN CLOWNED FOR YEARS.”

The meltdown was immediate, but what made it worse—so much worse—was that people started digging up old tweets. Every shameless flirtation. Every ridiculously domestic argument. Every instance of them saying things like, “you drive me crazy” or “god you’re insufferable but i’d still let you win an argument just once.”

Their followers lost it. Someone made a thread titled "Signs we should have SEEN this coming", complete with screenshots, timestamps, and receipts. The reactions were brutal.

And Jannik and Carlos? Thriving.

Carlos posted a photo of their drinks clinking together with the caption, "cheers to the best-kept secret on the internet 🍸." Jannik, ever the troll, replied to a panicked tweet with "anyway, the sunset here is nice."

Their friends were absolutely feral. Daniil Medvedev quote-tweeted their reveal with: "I have suffered in silence for too long. They do this in the group chat too." Charles Leclerc simply replied, "finally."

But nothing—nothing—was as dramatic as Lorenzo Musetti.

Lorenzo went full theatrical. First, he posted a black-and-white selfie captioned: “some betrayals cut deeper than others.” Then, he dropped a full Notes app statement:

“I have always been a believer in love, but never did I think I would witness such deception firsthand. To those who knew and said nothing... I hope you sleep well at night. I, however, will not.”

Jannik and Carlos, still sipping their cocktails, simply replied: “bro we invited you to the wedding.”

And that’s when the internet collapsed for real.

MARRIED?

MARRIED.

“You’re telling me I’ve spent YEARS watching them fight online while they were literally MARRIED????”

Absolute carnage. Meltdown of the century.

Meanwhile, Jannik and Carlos? Still vibing.

Carlos: “anyway, honeymoon phase still going strong 😌.” Jannik: “not when you tweet like that.”

Chaos. Absolute chaos. And they were loving every second of it.

sincaraz au where they both run fan/update accounts for rival players/teams (big4? f1? football? etc.) and have beef but also flirt like crazy on the tl and subject all their followers to watching whatever the hell is going on between them and then bam they fall in love and somehow people find out they're dating/married/fucking/etc.

OR they're already dating/married/fucking/etc. but they have beef and flirt on the tl for fun

[formulapookie]

🎀💕

under the cut to read

blowjob brothers bez/edo, 3.6k words (smut)

He doesn’t even know how many drinks he’s had, but who cares? 

Everyone’s so far gone no one will judge him for being wasted at this party.

There's music so loud he’s glad they rented a house far from pretty much everything else, because if they ever did this in one of their homes they’d already have been sued and reported to the police for disturbance.

Bez has thrown himself in the pool like four times already, Edo downed something like ten shots in a competition with the other DJ, and he had taken picture of every fucking thing which happened during the party.

“Aleeeeee” Bez calls for him, laughing like an idiot, wet from the pool he just came out of.

“Ale Ale bro”  “Yeah?” “Imma - Imma get Edo jealous y’know?” “Why? He’s not doing anything” “Exactly! Should be doing me” “Bez you two have sex every moment of the day, it’s not a tragedy this one eh” “It is because I want him to -” “Yeah no I’m not listening” “Oh come on as if you didn’t enjoy when you joined us”

And Ale has to stop talking for a sec because yeah, he can’t deny he enjoyed it more than just a little.

And it’s not new for the two of them to be close and affectionate, but right now Bez is basically wrapping himself sorta koala-style on him, and Edo is watching.

As is staring a hole through him smelling like jealousy and possessiveness.

Because yeah, the three of them did have sex together a few times, but it was something coming from all of them and certainly Bez didn’t act like this, ignoring his boyfriend and latching only onto Ale.

And Edo tends to be somewhat territorial when it comes to Bez, because it’s not a secret more than just one guy or girl wants to spend their night with him, and even if he’s ok with threesomes he also wants to have his boyfriend for himself.

“Bez come on Edo is staring, you gotta get away” “Nah” “Bez. I don’t want to die because you’re horny” “Edo is not gonna do anything”

Meanwhile Edo is very much doing something, which is rapidly ditching the convo he’s stuck in to come get his boyfriend who’s decided that apparently Ale is the entertainment for the night instead of him.

“May I have my boyfriend back or do you think you want to keep him?” “I told him to go to you! He’s - he’s just not listening” “Go back to your conversation with that guy Edo, keep ignoring me” “Bez it’s a guy from RR, we gotta talk about the merch” “Ah ha, yeah go back there keep ignoring your boyfriend” “Bez.”

He doesn’t answer, just keeps ignoring Edo and hugging Ale, who honestly has had enough of these two since they met half a year ago.

Knowing that before Edo Bez hadn't even fully realized he was bi is crazy to think.

Even because he had the most obvious crush on Pecco since they were teens.

He remembers when Bez finally got his sexuality and had come to him in a rush.

“Ale Ale Ale I gotta tell you something”

He was dragged away from the conversation he wa having into an alley of the paddock

“Ok calm down Bez you seem crazy” “Yeah I - do you know Edo? ok the DJ?” “Yes Bez I know him he’s my friend”

Bez took a deep breath and looked around

“Ok. He’s - he’s bisexual right?” “Yeah, why?” “I - fuck I think - I think I like him”

Oh. So all it took for Bez to get it was a morally dubious Dj and tattooer.

“You finally realized you like dick?” “I - HOW COULD I HAVE KNOWN I NEVER LIKED ANY GUY” “Pecco.” “What does Pecco has to do with anything” “Bez you had a crush on him since forever” “No I didn’t!”

Ale had looked at him as if he was the dumbest person in the universe, which in that moment he probably was.

“Bez. Bro. You looked at him in a way you didn’t even look at Anne Hathaway” “I did not” “Yeah” “But that’s not the point Ale, the point is I like Edo I think I like want to ask him out”  “Ask him then” “And if he doesn’t like me? If he rejects me? If he already has someone?”

Bez was gonna get him bald by his thirties.

“He likes you, he won’t reject you and he’s single now” “Are you sure Ale?”

He let out a huff and tried to get back to his unfinished conversation, reassuring Bez with a nod.

“yes Bez trust me, go for it”

And oh God had he gone for it.

That night at the party Bez was constantly talking to Edo, following him around and trying to steal all his attention for himself.

Finally Edo had put a stop to the almost embarrassing flirting act from Bez and had kissed him, Ale never asked what or where the two did or went afterwards.

“Bez come on let me go Edo is here”

Bez listens, for once, and turns around, looking Edo up and down, a half pout on his face.

Edo is not better, sunglasses resting on top of his head and a cap with the number 72 hung on his belt loop, looking at Bez the exact same way.

“Does your friend still want all your attention or can I steal you back?” “Bez I swear it looks like I never stay with you” “Stay with me just a bit more” “Bez it’s work I-” “I can suck you off in the kitchen if you stay”

And Edo is just a man, and if his boyfriend is offering him head in a not so private area of the house they’re hosting a party in as a corruption method he just can’t refuse.

Edo bites his lip before grabbing Bez by the shirt and pulling him in for a kiss, hands everywhere and tongues messily overused in the kiss, Ale finally freed from the situation snaps a picture, uploading it onto his private account

“Mi fate battere forte il cuore”

Their friends all know, mostly because it’s disgustingly inevitable not to walk in on them making out or having a quickie somewhere.

Poor Cele had found them jerking each other off in the VR46 Garage one night post race, and it took him more than just a few days to forget it.

“You want to go inside?” “Please” “You really want to suck my dick eh?”

Bez just smiles at it, palming Edo through his jeans and pressing a kiss on his collarbone.

They go inside, and as soon as they’re in the kitchen they’re all over each other in a split second, Bez tugging at Edo’s pants hinting at him to remove them.

“Come onnn get them off” “You were all shy not even six months ago and now look at you” “Stop making fun of me” “But it’s true Marco, had to teach you how to suck me off properly and now you just seem to have been doing this forever”

Bez rolls his eyes and finally unzips his boyfriend’s pants, pooling them at his ankles and getting on his knees.

“Good boy”

The rider has to restrain a moan after getting called that, biting his lip and tugging down Edo’s boxers too, stroking his dick as soon as it’s freed from them.

Edo loves getting his hands in Bez’s hair, they’re so soft and curly and he can manhandle the boy however he wants.

He angles him so that he’s looking a bit to the ceiling, then guides his head towards his dick, making him swallow it almost entirely.

“Ah fuck Marco I love this”

if this is referring to the blowjob, the relationship or the fact they’re currently in public Bez doesn’t know, but it’s a good thing Edo loves it.

Bez starts bobbing his head while Edo’s hands stay in his hair, tugging occasionally when Bez swallows a bit more than usual, gagging around his dick, a few drops of saliva coming out his mouth.

“So pretty Marco so pretty, imagine if someone came in and found you kneeling for me”

Edo smiles again, his free hand going to grip at the counter to stabilize himself, Bez might not be an expert in giving head but he’s a quick learner for sure and his eagerness makes up for the lack of experience.

The gagging sound quickly becomes the only thing the two of them can hear, music from outside long forgotten and archived as background noise, the only other thing Bez can get himself to listen to are Edo’s increasingly louder moans as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

“Can I fuck you? After this?”

Bez nods, for how much he can while sucking his dick, and swallows even more of the length, feeling Edo tightening the grip on his hair.

“Thought so, you’re hard just by sucking me off”

Bez moans at that, he’s been trying to not touch himself while giving his boyfriend head but it’s complicated, he needs to get off as well, and can’t exactly wait too much before doing it, so he imposes himself to make Edo finish as quick as possible so he can get fucked properly.

“Mh fuck careful with teeth Marco, there’s no rush”

Bez looks up at him, need and lust written all over his face, and Edo notices, smiling at him once again.

“Oh you are in a rush then? Want me to fuck you now?”

Bez quickens his movements, steadying himself with his hands wrapped around each of Edo’s thighs, never breaking eye contact with him.

He can feel Edo is close, and he needs so much for this to be over so he can drag him to the first available bedroom in the house and get railed.

“Marco ‘m close fuck you’re good at this”

he sucks harder than before, ripping out a deeper moan from Edo, and lets him cum down his throat.

He stays there for a few seconds before letting go of his dick, looking up at him and getting back up from the floor, kissing him once again.

Edo puts back on his briefs and jeans, without breaking away from the kiss.

“You always come so quick when I suck you off in public places, like when we went to the event in Bali, you like the risk of getting caught”

“You enjoy it too, don't act so innocent, mh? Now, do you want to find a bedroom or-”

Bez grabs him by the hand and drags him upstairs, they’re both laughing a bit, they feel like teenagers sneaking off at a party, which, yeah they’re doing, but somehow it feels hilarious.

“This one”

The room is not bad, a queen sized bed next to a window and some furniture, but it’s not like they’re admiring the drawers and closets right now, and Edo makes quick work of getting Bez on the bed with his back against the mattress and his legs wrapped around him.

He’s caging Bez’s head between his hands, smiling down at him as he licks his lips, and then he rolls his hips to get some friction out of the situation, making them both moan, Edo can feel himself starting to get hard again.

“Kiss me”

Bez basically has stars in his eyes everytime they are this close, and Edo absolutely loves it, he’s so beautiful when he’s like this.

He lowers himself so he can kiss his boyfriend, and one of his hands goes to unzip his pants, Bez lifts his hips and he tugs the pants down, cupping him through the boxers.

At it Bez moans once again, he’s painfully hard and needs his boyfriend inside him like right now.

Edo moves and starts kissing at his neck, eventually leaving a dark hickey on its side, then biting at it lightly.

He knows Bez is a slut for this, and one second later he’s moaning and whining under him, bucking his hips and getting a bit of pleasure from Edo’s hand cupping him.

He sounds so good right now, small whimpers leaving his mouth at the sensation of Edo’s lips on his neck.

“Come on Edo please, fuck me” “I need to prep you, can’t go like this”

Bez says something under his breath, and the older stops kissing him to listen better

“What? I didn’t hear you” “I said I already did it myself I’m ready”

Edo breaks away for a second from his neck to look at him, he truly is amazing.

“Fuck ok I love you”

He goes back to kissing and marking his neck, the wet spot on the front of Bez’s boxers growing larger and larger, it’s amazing how just a few kisses can get him like this, pliant and absolutely hooked up on need.

A few minutes later he gets rid of his boxers as well, undressing himself completely, and Bez admires him biting his lip.

But when he goes to take off his shirt Edo stops him, grabbing him by the wrist.

“What?” “Keep it on you’re hot like that, and it’s mine, I want to fuck you with that on” “Ok but just please do something” “Oh of course, I wouldn't want my little prince to get sad now would I?”

He’s fully hard again now, and Bez is so fucking hot he fears he could cum as soon as he pushes his dick inside him.

He kisses Bez again, cupping his face with one hand and using the other to help himself push inside Bez’s hole, swallowing the moan coming from him.

“You good? Can I move now?” “Yes yes yes you can”

Edo pushes inside all the way, hips touching for a second before he starts thrusting and fucking Bez with a fast pace, still kissing him to quieten the moans down.

Bez gets his arms around Edo, digging his nails in his back, continuously moaning in his mouth.

“More Edo more please”

The first few times they had sex Bez had tried to restrain himself a bit, not to seem too eager or needy.

He had tried to not make it obvious he liked to be praised a lot, that he liked when he got his hair pulled or his neck kissed, that he wanted Edo to shut him up with a kiss when he got too loud or that he liked being spoiled and leaving the work to the others.

He gave up the act the one time Edo had kissed his neck a bit too much and Bez had come from a handjob and that, embarrassingly quickly, but Edo had just found that hot.

And he had learnt that by “more” Bez means “deeper and harsher” as in fuck me deeper and pull my hair and leave hickeys all over my body.

And that’s exactly what he wants to do now.

Starting with the hickeys, his neck is already pretty full, but a few retouches won’t hurt anyone.

So he just sucks a few more marks on his neck, making him whimper as he thrusts deeper into him, then he debates whether or not to take off Bez’s shirt to get to work on his nipples.

The answer is yes, if the neck gets him like that nipples get him worse

“Pretty, so so pretty for me Marco” “Fuck” “Arms up, good”

He takes off Bez’s shirt with no problems, noticing the chill on his skin once it gets removed.

Edo goes to bite and suck at his right nipple, teasing him about how fucked out he already looks, the pace still the same.

It’s barely a matter of seconds before Bez’s hand is in his boyfriend's hair tugging at them because it already feels like too much.

“Edo please stop teasing” “Ah but you look and sound so pretty when I do”

 AS if it was a spell Bez moans again, louder, and moves his hand to touch himself, but Edo is quicker and pins it on the mattress, letting go of his nipple.

“Don’t touch” “No come on please” “You tried to get me jealous before, that's not something I should reward you for now is it?” “Please”

“Next time you’ll learn not to piss me off mh? Should thank me I’m fucking you at all after what you pulled out there”

Bez groans and tries to buck his hips up to get some friction, but that only causes Edo to stop thrusting into him, and fuck no that’s worse.

“You stay put and I fuck you until you cum ok?” “Fuck you” “That’s not an answer” “Ok I will” “Good”

Edo smiles, leaving a soft pec on his lips before resuming the pace, going a bit deeper this time, Bez clenching around him.

It’s a mess of moans and heat and lust, none of the two wants this to be over.

When Edo gets his mouth on Bez’s pierced nipple it’s game over for the younger.

He already is hypersensitive there, but with the tattoo and the piercing it’s all multiplied, he probably could come just by Edo playing with him like that.

“You get so tight when I tease you here it’s crazy” “you - fuck - more please” “More? You sure you can handle it?” “I’m not made of glass” “As you wish”

He picks up the pace once again, feeling Bez getting closer and moaning louder, like he’s in fucking heat, and it makes his mind explode.

Bez is too perfect for his own good, he’s caught god knows how many people staring at him, commenting on him, his body, his godforsaken hands.

He has got those long slim fingers he absolutely loves, the small tattoo of a “12” on his ring finger.

All the other tattoos on his arms and the ones Edo did himself.

It was hot tattooing him, he wasn’t the first nor the last to get hard while getting a tattoo, but he was for sure the hottest.

Bez feels like he’s about to die, he needs to touch himself, needs to get his release, needs Edo to kiss him and make him cry from how good this is.

With a deeper thrusts Edo finally cums inside him, moaning in Bez’s ear and teasing his dick with his free hand.

“Please please let me cum Edo please” “Promise not to get me jealous anymore” “Yeah fuck I promise I swear just let me cum” “Just because you’re pretty”

All it takes is a few strokes to his dick and Bez is moaning again and painting his abs and chest white, shaking under Edo and reaching out for him to kiss him.

Their lips meet and it’s sweet now, even with the smell of sex in the room.

Edo pulls out and rolls on the bed to be next to Bez, hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

“Can’t believe I get to have you Marco, you’re so perfect” “Stop” “No you’re cute when you blush like this”

They both laugh, Bez feels once again like a teenager with his first love.

And it kinda is like that, Edo is the first guy he’s ever done something with, the one who actually made him realize he liked guys too, so it kinda is like a teenager discovering love.

Bez’s phone starts ringing, ad he ignores it, who the fuck is calling at 3am on a Saturday?

But it rings again, then Edo’s as well. This must be important.

Bez picks up the phone and he hears his PR manager shouting, he’s too tired to properly understand, just the words “photos” and “public” make it to his brain.

“Ari slow down I don’t understand anything lower your voice” “Bezzecchi I fucking swear I’m gonna KILL YOU if you don’t get your ass here in one hour! Your friend posted a picture of you and your boyfriend making out AND IT GOT PUBLIC. If I get fired because you can’t keep it in your pants I’m gonna cut it off you get me?”

He sits up on the bed, swearing and feeling dizzy.

“Ale posted the picture on the wrong account Marco”

“Yeah I fucking know! They called me and told me I gotta go to the head quarters fucking hell people saw it Edo people saw it and it’s going around”

They climb down the stairs, got dressed in a rush, clothes half creased and still smelling like sex.

“Guys guys I’m sorry I thought it was the private profile I swear sorry I didn't mean to” “No it’s - it’s ok they’re already beginning to handle it but I gotta go” “I’m gonna kill myself” “You don’t do that, thank you very much” “I stay here, you go”

Bez looks at both of them, then fixes his gaze on Edo.

“No, come with me” “Marco” “Please, if they tell me - I don’t know what they’ll tell me, I need someone with me” “Are you sure?” “Yes. Yes I want you there” “Maybe it’s better I don’t come, you can say I kissed you but you don’t like guys and -”

“Edo I don’t give a fuck if people call me slurs after seeing that picture, they already tell me all kind of shit, I won’t get depressed if they know I like guys”

He’s debating internally, of course he wants to be close to his boyfriend, but he’s scared for his future as a rider if this becomes a public relationship.

“Please don’t leave me alone”

They look into each other's eyes and Edo nods, following him to the car and climbing in the passenger seat.

“I’m sorry” “Don’t be sorry Edo we didn’t do anything wrong”

And he knows, he knows they didn’t but Bez is not just a someone, he’s an athlete, public figure, and everyone knows it’s really fucking difficult to be public with your sexuality in a sport, especially sports like these.

But Bez is Bez, they’ll find a solution, this is not the end of the world, they’ll play it off as a stupid dare or something similar, they’ll get the pic off Instagram in a few days and it’ll be ok.

He knows it’ll be when he looks over to Bez and he looks back at him for a moment before getting his eyes back on the road, moving a hand to rest on his thigh, not sexual, just reassuring.

Yeah it’s gonna be ok for them.

[andyling]

THEN WHAT SANEMI THEN WHAT

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF TANJIRO DIDN'T INTERFERE WITH YOUR FIGHT HUH TELL ME

[danwhobrowses]

Now that Critical Role's VOD of episode 120 is out and everyone in the fandom's had a moment to breathe, simmer, and adjust to this all. I wanna do a big talk about my favourite idiot punk rock, Ashton Greymoore.

Because over these last few episodes, I've been so proud of them.

Many people have had vocal opinions on Ashton, not all of them positive either; I've seen many berate them and say they're selfish, not a team player, or that they 'don't add anything to the group'. But over the past few episodes, I feel like Ashton has been an unsung hero in the battles with Ludinus and Predathos, with their contributions, oftentimes selfless and cooperative, ending up providing the floor for others to deliver strong and impactful actions.

While Dorian and Imogen will rightfully get the lion's share of praise for their clutch moments - Dorian's Force Cage on Ludinus saving Liliana and defeating Predathos' first stage alongside Imogen's Power Word: Stun setting up Ludinus' death and defeating Predathos' second stage - Ashton's actions were often the prelude to moments that could not have succeeded without them, including these clutch moments. Their attack on Ludinus in 117 prompted the Silvery Barbs that burned up his reaction - which allowed Dorian to successfully use Force Cage without being Counterspelled, their high-damage attack on his neck hole in 118 broke Ludinus' concentration on Ravenous Void - which somehow later got credited to Chetney - which gave Imogen the freedom and mobility to get in range for Power Word: Stun, they got the Insight check whisper on Predathogen in 119 to know that Imogen was physically inside of the body and needed to be pried out - which Imogen achieved herself thanks in part to Fearne reaching her, and recently in 120 they pulled Imogen out of Predathos' maw, abandoning the Hammer synonymous with their character (to the point that Keyleth titled them the 'Paradox Hammer') to prioritize saving their friend, which - following Dorian's healing - gave her the chance to use the Ring of Remembrance for the finishing Meteor Swarm. Not to mention all the other damage they dealt and tanked throughout the four fights, the passive d4 bonuses and advantage they gave the party (almost acting partly as a secondary paladin or a tertiary bard) to buff their damage and saving throws, and accepting the risk of disintegration when Laudna used their Hammer's spell splitter - which forced Predathos to use its final Legendary Resistance.

The Disintegrate moment itself was tense because we all know that Ashton is high among the Hells who would sacrifice themselves to save the group - a mentality most of the Hells likely shared in this fight - but fortunately they don't have to, they'll never have to, and they gained something just as if not more valuable than a heroic sacrifice: they get to live. The person who before meeting these chucklefucks believed they'd likely die face-down in a ditch in some backwater alley and thrown into an unmarked grave AT BEST gets to live, and the people that mean most to them get to live thanks to their efforts, their successes. And that's the most important part; for all the times they couldn't help or save someone because they were unconscious or out of reach, for all the times they let their imposter syndrome tell them they're just a fuckup undeserving of trust, praise, or love, and for every fear they had that one day they'd mess up and this new family of theirs will abandon them like the Nobodies did, this time they were there standing beside their people to the very end - and they helped get them out alive. No mistakes, no carelessness, and no-one left behind.

For that, I am proud of Ashton Greymoore; not Bells Hells' Weapon but their Helm, not a Blunt Instrument but a Protector, and not a Hero who needs to do 'what needs to be done' but a Friend who is saving their people no matter the odds. Under all the hardened and rugged exterior that has always been who Ashton is - the perfectly flawed character they are.

[revnashieldmaiden]

“Hmm, let me think…” I think back to my childhood and the first story that comes to mind is the story my father told me of my birth. Seems only fitting, since I’m getting closer to bearing my first child. “Have I told you the story of how I got my name, the story of my birth?…” I question Finan, at the slight shake of his head I continue. “I should probably start at the beginning.

“My mother was a raven haired beauty whom my father met while in a raiding party. It isn’t uncommon for Norse to fight against Norse for territory or supplies. She was apart of the village they attacked. My father said when he saw her he stopped dead in his tracks, the battle quickly forgotten. He was completely mesmerized by her, and amazingly she was instantly drawn to him.

After the battle, she came home with him. He didn’t not wed her right away, as he was already married to another.  He and his wife quickly grew bitter towards each other, because it was obvious the love he already felt for my mother. How drawn to each other they were. She shared his bed, while his wife slept somewhere else. Eventually his wife left him, moved into another cottage with their sons. He still looked after them, but his heart belonged to my mother. They were wed and shortly after she became with child….me.

My father doted her, his excitement at having another child, especially a child with the woman he loved more than life itself, could be felt by everyone around him. Her labor wasn’t easy, as are most first births. My father stayed by her side throughout most of it, taking brief breaks to go outside and get some air, while the midwifes tended to her. He spotted a raven perched just outside the window of the cottage. Just sitting there. Watching and waiting. The screams of pain from my mother did not scare him away. It’s like he was waiting for something. Every time my father stepped outside the raven would look at him and cock it’s head, as if he was waiting for news.

The moment my mother pushed me out of her womb, and I took my first breath releasing a cry, the raven outside squawked before taking flight. He circled around the cottage a few times, then he flew off into the distance. My father told me the raven was traveling to Odin to tell him of my arrival. My parents named me Revna in honor of that moment. My father told me I’d forever be watched over by the Gods…and the ravens have been keeping an eye on me my whole life…” I smile at Finan as I finish my story, softly caressing his forehead and hair. 

I can still see the joy in my father’s eyes as I remember him telling me the story. I can’t help but be curious if the ravens will visit me again when the time comes to birth my own child.

@thedarkprinceofulaid

That evening

Finan enters the village on Péarla’s back with speed enough to nearly throw him off his horse, halting her at the stables and taking little care to greet anyone before directing his horse to water and hay. A stable boy takes his mare off his hands and Finan only nods to him quickly in gratitude. He jogs to the cottage, his legs feeling as if they could buckle beneath him after such a harsh ride but carrying him nonetheless as he strides to the door.

Finan moves to throw open the door, before realizing that he made a series of locks for it to ensure Revna’s safety and her comfort. He groans, pounding his fist on the door.

“Revna?!”

Oh God please. Please.

@thedarkprinceofulaid

One of the servant’s from the Great Hall answers the door for Finan. They tried to talk me into staying at the Great Hall, but I was adamant about going home, wanting the comfort of my own bed.

The pain in my stomach is almost unbearable as I lay in bed hunched over. The tea Tessa gave me not quite taking the edge off. There are trails of tears on my cheeks as the fear in my heart overwhelms me.

When I hear Finan’s voice, I let out a little sob, as a small sense of relief comes over me. Uhtred was able to find him, my husband is home.

@thedarkprinceofulaid

[missingn000]

hey all! i wrote a what-if character study & action fic for if king fought sanji instead of zoro during the raid on onigashima. i'd really love if you gave it a read! thanks so much!

link

playlist

happy reading!

[lizzybeeee]

I love the Descent DLC for a lot of reasons, but one of the most memorable parts for me was how they recontextualized the dwarven belief that you would 'fall into the sky!' with the reveal of the Titans.

Thousands upon thousands of years resulted in the phrase losing it’s true meaning, recontextualised to instead refer to the surface of Thedas because they lost the knowledge of what it was talking about. Yet this phrase still endured throughout the ages.

You meet plenty of dwarves in Dragon Age who talk about the importance of reclaiming what they lost -> the Aeducan origin story begins with an expedition to an old thaig, Brosca suffers the caste system that venerates the importance of past ancestors actions, we see characters like Branka commit/allow horrific acts in the pursuit of this...

Even Bartrand, who spent the majority of his life on the surface, felt that pull. Varric has a story about breaking a plate that was brought to the surface with them and how, to Bartrand, that plate was the entire city of Orzammar. So many dwarven characters are reaching for something lost to them...

You walk into the titan (though you don't know this at the time) and you're met with an entire world in there. There's light, fauna, flora, architecture, clouds -> you are in the clouds -> you are in the sky!

The dwarves had an entirely different way of life! How does this all work? Who knows! What is in the booty of a Titan???

And the entire time they've had one small link to the far distant past through the belief that they would ‘fall into the sky’! Which is deeply ironic and tragic in that something so tied to their way of life, under the surface, became synonymous with the surface.

I still remember how excited/awed I was when I realized what that phrase was referring to! You heard it all the time in DAO – even Varric joked about how Bartrand believed it in DA2.

A phrase that was a joke to those on the surface was revealed to be a flicker of memory of what once was. Amazing!

Maybe it was once a small, chiding reminder for dwarven children when walking around in a titan. Maybe it was a joke for the guards/defenders of the titan like the Sha-Brytol? Maybe a dwarf wandered down so far below that they saw all this - making their way back to Orzammar with their account becoming legend. Who knows! But I love it so much <3

[caruliaa]

playing around with this picrew and made lesbian odypen