#was thinking of having him wear his wedding band but nobody does that when they go to bed 😭

[clover-46]

david’s done! yk i literally started doing avior before this one because i forgot about the poll 😭

and something’s off about this and idk what and im tired of looking at it so here yall go

[arlerts-angel]

I needs some comfort Mack! I just watched the ending of AOT and I'm not okay.😭😭😭

a/n: since i know levi is your favorite, enjoy some levi comfort. 🤍

warnings: canonverse | post-war!levi | hurt/comfort | mentions of injuries, nightmares + flashbacks | reader is gender neutral

nobody could prepare for the devastation following the battle of heaven and earth, not even humanity's strongest.

a scar across his face, two missing fingers, partial sight, and now wheelchair bound; his days are spent relearning how to live life in a brand new, unfamiliar body. he'd argue that nights are worse as sleep is seldom, and what little sleep he does manage to get, is plagued by nightmares and flashbacks. he jolts awake, terrified when he opens his eyes and sees nothing.

right, he thinks as he sits up, i still have vision in my left. you're easily wakened by his shifting. "levi? do you need something?" you ask softly, words laced with sleep.

"just another nightmare's all." the veteran sighs. you sit up next to him.

"just? levi..." you start, but are quickly cut off.

"this is not a life you deserve, y/n. taking care of me like an infant... it was't supposed to be like this... i'm so sorry." his voice cracks as he finds the strength to continue. "i have to let you go because i love you and i want you to live the life i wasn't able to give you."

tears well in your eyes. "i love you too levi, but the only life i want to live is the one i spend with you. i'm not leaving you... for better or for worse; that was our promise... and i intend on keeping that promise, sir." you reply, reminding him of the wedding band he wears on his left hand.

he swallows the lump in his throat and hangs his head apologetically. "i don't deserve you, but i am grateful and i will spend the rest of my sorry life making sure you know that."

you hug him tight and kiss his cold shoulder. "c'mon now, back to bed we go." you urge, falling into the bed together.

"i love you, mr. ackerman." you yawn as your head finds it's home on his chest.

"i love you too," he replies, "thank you."

"for what?" you ask.

"for everything."

banners by benkeibear

[coneyislandbabey]

masterlist -> coneyislandbabey

EVERYTHING UNDER THE CUT ! I'll do my best to keep this up to date lol

EDDIE ROUNDTREE !

going to california. : you move to Los Angeles, and are surprised to run into an old childhood friend. [3.3k] well, my boyfriend's in a band.: nobody thinks the thing between you and Eddie can be as pure and real as you say it is. [1.3k] butterflies and zebras (and moonbeams and fairy tales).: You and Eddie have a daughter. The first weeks of her life growing up in the house with you both and the band. [3.1k] Beast of Burden series: the push and pull between you and Eddie Roundtree was never-ending. No matter how hard you tried to push him away, you always came back together. -> (i'll never be) your beast of burden.: part one. Pittsburgh, 1967. [2.6k] -> my back is broad, but it's a-hurtin'.: part two. Pittsburgh, 1969. [2.1k] -> you keep on tellin' me i ain't your kinda man. : part three. Baltimore, 1970. [2.8k] -> i don't need no beast of burden. : part four. On the road, 1971. [3.8k] -> (put me out, put me out) put me out of misery.: part five. Los Angeles, 1973. [1.7k] -> all your sickness, i can suck it up.: part six. Los Angeles, 1974. [1.5k]

GRAHAM DUNNE !

testing his patience. : Graham finds his voice defending you after Billy takes his anger out on you during a recording session. [2.2k] the boys are back in town.: The Six are back in Pittsburgh during the Numbers tour, and Graham runs into his high school crush. [6.8k] i only have eyes for you.: You bit Graham at preschool when you were three years old. The rest, they say, is history. [3.5k]

WARREN ROJAS !

crossed wires.: a night of complicated feelings and jealousy lead to a revelation between you and Warren. [1.5k] she's got a strange magic.: Warren is usually cool and confident, but there's something about you that makes him completely nervous. He's desperate to ask you out, and he's desperate to get it right. [1.3k] i'd have you anytime.: You don't expect something to bloom between you and the drummer of your brothers' band, and when it does, the two of you try (and fail) to keep it a secret. [5.1k] she's a rainbow.: Warren's got it bad for Camila's childhood best friend. [2k] still raining, still dreaming.: It's a rare day off, and you and Warren spend it being lazy together in bed. [1.3k] so hot you're hurting my feelings.: your seemingly innocuous wardrobe choice makes Warren lose his mind. [1.7k] time to play b-sides.: you and warren pick up the pieces after the band falls apart. [1.1k] Mariposaverse fics: (these are not listed or written in any particular chronological order and can be read in any way after the first one) i'm with you.: You and Warren are friends with benefits. And then you find out you're pregnant. [3k] my mariposa. : a little domestic snapshot of you and Warren as new parents. [1.3k] butterfly wings.: It's your and Warren's daughter, Mariposa's first halloween. [1.1k] light of the love that i found.: Yours and Warren's wedding. [2.3k] the pick-me-up.: Life has been wearing you and Warren down lately, but Mariposa saying her first word really brings up your spirits. [1.1k] don't cry my sweet, don't break my heart.: Warren being a good dad and having a little crisis about his little girl growing up. [1.5k] Camp Wawayanda Lake: summer camp au. prank war and men super short shorts. What else do you need? -> prologue; bug spray and bonfires and booze.: You arrive at camp and reunite with old friends. There’s a drunken bonfire, and Warren is suddenly, distractingly beautiful. [2k] -> one; a study in lake water and forest princesses.:  It’s the first day of camp and Billy does something stupid that sets Daisy on a summer-long path toward revenge. [3.6k]

KAREN SIRKO !

high by the beach. : The feelings that grow between you and Karen Sirko seem to be the easiest thing in the world. [2k] with a girl like you.: You first cross paths with Karen Sirko when your band is recording your first album. After the fact, you can't get her out of your head; turns out, Karen's been feeling the same way. [1.5k]

[roe-and-memory]

headcanons

hi tumblr ihave like three headcanons to share currently (there will be more soon i just need to see how well theyre taken, do we like headcanons on here??)

(based off of him not having headlights but how i perceive it humanized even though racecars cant have headlights in Real Life) lightning has light sensitivity issues with his vision . he cannot see. the sun is too bright sometimes and if its dark he will trip over one of the floorboards in docs house, no matter how many times hes walked this floor. (hes very prone to tripping Always but it just gets worse when its dark) (he has rips in the knees of every single pair of jeans he owns)

docs old sunglasses have his name lasered into the arm, lightning found them basically untouched in a box in docs garage. he pulls them out and starts using them when its too bright outside and doc has learned to just hand them over whenever lightning shows up like

2. lightning just. doesnt sleep ?? he is 100% an insomniac and his nightmares are to blame. he would rather work himself to exhaustion than willingly sleep at a normal time. cue him spending most nights out in the fields or at the junkyard with mater building things or whatever until mater is the one to be like ok im tired im going to bed and lightning is forced to go back home, climb back through his bedroom window, and stare at the ceiling until he passes out. he hates sleeping because every night, without fail, he has nightmares. vivid nightmares about whatever his brain can think of, and when he does sleep hes basically fighting his sheets for five hours because of these nightmares, and then he wakes up early and goes about his day as if he wasn't at war with literal demons 20 minutes ago.

doc knows about these nightmares, of course he does, he's a light sleeper and lightnings room is just across the hall, he's also completely aware that the kid sneaks out the window every night because, although lightning is quiet around the house, he is not too graceful when hes attempting to climb out the window -- he's fallen into the bush beneath it countless times.

because of this, doc has tried everything to help him with the nightmare issue, from melatonin to getting him to just write down whatever he was dreaming about to show himself it wasnt real, and absolutely none of it worked. in fact, melatonin seemed to make it worse, and doc gave up there.

3. doc wears a silver "wedding" band. he's not married, in fact he's never been interested in having a partner or getting married at all (i dub thee aroace) but when he was younger he was certainly eye candy for girls at the racetrack and they fawned over him like nobodies business. he comes up with the great idea to get a silver ring and lie, he makes up some tragic backstory to tell whenever a woman asks him why he has a ring or who the lucky person is, and it makes them back of pretty quickly. in reality, the ring is made from a small wheel bearing, and smokey made it for him when he asked because he thought it was funny as hell and was like yes sure but pls make it sound ridiculous . and dont ever tell the same story twice. confuse them.

word gets around and he's told multiple different stories so everyone is confused, but if someone questions him he just gives them a Look and they shut up about it.

even after his crash and his inevitable leave from the piston cup and thomasville, along with his change of address, he continued to wear the ring just in case he got recognized or something.. (it was for aesthetic reasons, he loves that ring its just his signature thing now)

ok... thats it for now, is this how things get formatted here??? do we Like this???

[bambirex]

It's A Game We Play: Chapter 9

Pairings: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Radovid, original female characters, Essi Daven, Priscilla, Ciri of Cintra, Valdo Marx, Vespula

Additional tags: inspired by Mamma Mia! (movies), crack, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, omega jaskier, alpha geralt, alpha yennefer, beta radovid, awkwardness, jaskier is a good parent, protective jaskier, weddings, found family, post mpreg, fluff and humor, alternate universe- modern setting, jaskier is having the worst time of his life, valdo is here to make everything worse, confusion, banter, insecure jaskier, internalized slut shaming, light angst, family drama, there was only one bed, sharing a bed, valdo marx being an asshole, valdo marx and his ukulele from hell, drunk jaskier, mild language, sexual humor, jaskier in a dress, well it's a skirt but still, jaskier is essentially a milf in this

Rating: teen and up audiences

Full word count: 28,523 words

Chapter word count: 3,396 words

Chapters: 9/?

Summary: Jaskier's daughter is about to marry the love of her life, and she decides she wants both her parents at her wedding. Only problem is that Jaskier has slept with a little too many people in his youth, so the identity of the other parent is a mystery. That does not stop the bride-to-be from inviting three potential daddy candidates and unleashing absolute chaos in the process.

*

Otherwise known as Jaskier's terrible horrible no good past decisions leading to terrible horrible no good outcomes. Also known as the Mamma Mia! AU nobody asked for, but I wrote it anyway.

Chapter summary: It's the night of Amaryllis's bridal shower. Sparks fly all over the place in general, and then Jaskier also fights off his insecurities in the raunchiest way possible.

Author's notes: Actually, writing this fic is like therapy for me. Hence why it's updated so soon. They're all super drunk and horny, that's pretty much the premise of this chapter.

Read on Ao3

*

This was a stupid idea. Jaskier wasn't even sure why he entertained it, for even a second.

"It's because you still have it in you," Essi teased, almost like she read his mind. She gave Jaskier a little wink. "And you want their eyes on you. It makes sense."

"I don't...!" Jaskier huffed. He felt his treacherous cheeks flush a deep red. Essi gave him a knowing smirk.

They were going to perform at Amaryllis and Sara's bridal shower tonight. While Amaryllis specifically asked them not to do that on her wedding, she was more than fine with her papa's band bringing the fun to the party. If the tragedy of Valdo Marx performing at the wedding had to happen - because Sara's mother was relentless, resisting all bribes and pleadings- then, at least an actually good band needed to play at the bridal shower. It was the fun part, after all!

Priscilla and Essi convinced Jaskier to dress up a little bit, which Jaskier used to enjoy a lot in his youth. He wasn't exactly the most modest Omega back then, gladly putting the goods on display and enjoying the trail of drool that followed him. He wasn't twenty years old anymore, though, and the idea of trying to act all sexy, especially in front of his exes, was a terrifying one.

"Look, you girls still look amazing," Jaskier told them earnestly. "Essi, I have no idea how you maintained this body after two kids. Seriously, you're both smoking hot. Me, on the other hand... I think you should wear your pretty matching outfits and I put on something a bit more... modest."

"Since when are you modest," Priscilla scoffed. "Come on, it's going to be fun! Besides, Essi is right, we all know you're just dying to seduce your baby daddies."

Jaskier rolled his eyes, but his cheeks refused to let go of their blush. Unfortunately, he was just a human being, a human being who was still very much attracted to those three, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. The more time he's spent with them, the more his stupid heart and body started acting up. So, maybe his friends were right, maybe there was a part of him that wondered what they would think when they saw him in his outfit.

"Okay, but I'm not gonna wear it the whole night," Jaskier concluded with a sigh. His friends let out a triumphant squeal.

"Oh, the Omega urge to preen has set in!" Essi giggled. "Combined with your badly hidden lust for your exes, I say we're gonna have a lot of fun tonight!"

"I'll only be able to handle this with alcohol," Jaskier groaned. He still couldn't help a little smile when he imagined what this night could have in store.

--

They rented a whole club for the night. Amaryllis was worried Jaskier spent entirely too much money on her upcoming wedding, especially knowing how much he struggled with keeping the Dandelion afloat, but he always waved her concerns away with a "my sweet baby deserves the best". She could only hope he wouldn't wear himself too thin with the stress, to which the whole other parent situation only added to.

Amaryllis decided to focus on having fun instead. She grinned widely as she was led inside the club, where the decoration was a mix of classic wedding flowers and party balloons. Amaryllis and Sara both had veils on their heads which looked as mismatched with the rest of their club outfits as possible.

Amaryllis held onto Sara's hand tightly as their friends bounced ahead of them, already a little tipsy on their warm-up shots. Actually, a little bit more than tipsy.

"Richie Rich at 10 o'clock," Marion all but screamed into Vera's ear, who hollered in response. It caught Radovid's attention. He gave the girls a little confused, but still bright smile. Vera pretended to pass out, and she managed so well that she actually ended up on the floor, bringing the cackling Marion with her.

"I think we should keep them from drinking any more," Sara laughed. Amaryllis rolled her eyes with a chuckle.

She smiled when she noticed Geralt and Ciri approaching her. Geralt's smile widened the closer he got.

"You look very nice," he said. Ciri giggled.

"He means you look breathtakingly beautiful, but he doesn't know how to do compliments."

Amaryllis laughed. "Thank you, all the same."

"How's everyone enjoying the party?" Jaskier asked as he hopped next to them. His cheeks were rosy, and his smile was bright. He kissed Sara on the cheek before he pulled Amaryllis to his side.

"Do you like the place?"

"It's incredible!" Amaryllis grinned. She wound her arms around her father, sighing happily. "Thank you, Papa."

Jaskier gently pulled the veil aside so he could kiss her forehead.

"It's my pleasure."

Amaryllis gasped when she noticed Yennefer approaching them. She wore a leather two set, and she looked incredible. Jaskier and Geralt made a similar little noise, combined with wide eyes as they spotted her.

"Damn, I wanna look like you at your age," Sara sighed in awe. Yennefer sent her a grin.

"Hello, everyone. Jaskier, thank you so much for the invite."

"Of course," Jaskier replied softly. Yennefer smiled, and Jaskier returned it eagerly.

"Where's the archduke of mangoes?" Yennefer asked, scanning the partying guests. Geralt laughed softly.

"He's the king of mangoes, you know that."

Jaskier glanced at Amaryllis in confusion. Amaryllis giggled.

"I could've sworn on my life they were coconuts," Jaskier blinked. He then nodded towards the left. "He's there, trying to sober up Amaryllis's bridesmaids... oh, fuck. He's actually doing shots with them. Amaryllis, bring him here before he sends your friends to the detox."

Amaryllis did, laughing all the way. Radovid looked utterly proud of himself. Jaskier rolled his eyes at him fondly.

"I'm gonna go find my mom," Sara said. She pecked Amaryllis on the lips before she left. Amaryllis felt a warmth, that was definitely not just because of the alcohol, spread through her chest as she stood in the ring that Jaskier, Geralt, Radovid, Yennefer and Ciri made around her.

She watched as her papa spoke to the other three. The conversation seemed light, the awful tension that plagued their first few days together nowhere to be seen now.

Ciri stood next to her, gently elbowing her in the side.

"Wanna dance?"

"With pleasure," Amaryllis grinned. She bowed playfully. Ciri giggled and gave a quick curtsy before she grabbed Amaryllis's hand and dragged her to the dancefloor.

--

"Do you want to...?"

Jaskier blinked in surprise. Geralt shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly. If it wasn't for his extended hand, Jaskier wouldn't have understood what he wanted.

"Oh," he breathed softly. He felt his cheeks warm up as he stared down at Geralt's big, calloused hand. Every braincell told him to say no. His heart whacked him over the head with a giant, neon YES sign.

"Yes," he eventually said. Geralt's wary smile brightened as he took Jaskier's hand into his own. Jaskier's skin buzzed at his touch.

His heart pounded as they swayed together with Geralt. His hands were so careful around his waist, like he was scared a stronger hold would break Jaskier.

Jaskier glanced to the side. Amaryllis was slow dancing with Sara, their eyes shining as they smiled at each other. Yennefer twirled Ciri around. Marion and Vera drunkenly swayed, tripping over each other's feet. Essi danced with her husband, while Radovid danced with Priscilla. As he looked over them, and then down their joined hands with Geralt, he felt his heart swell until it barely fit into his chest.

The pink fog quickly dissipated when he noticed Valdo sauntering in with a smug grin. He, as always, acted like he owned the place.

"Ugh," Jaskier gagged, "how did he get in?"

"He seems to have a knack for infiltrating your life," Geralt chuckled. He let go of Jaskier's hand. Jaskier immediately missed his touch.

Valdo noticed them, and his smirk widened. Jaskier rolled his eyes so hard, it was a wonder they didn't get stuck.

"Jaskier," Valdo greeted him cheerfully, "what a lovely party!"

"Which you weren't invited to," Jaskier scoffed. He crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you want?"

"Oh, actually, Sara's mom invited me," Valdo replied with a grin. "So, I'm sorry, dear, but I'm staying."

He looked a little wary when Geralt moved towards him. He took a step back, holding his hands up.

"Don't worry, I didn't bring an original song, this time."

"You're saying that as if you would sing here," Jaskier huffed. Valdo only raised an amused eyebrow at him. Jaskier's eyes widened in horror.

"No fucking way," he hissed, "I will perform with my band! Yours isn't even here!"

"I'm a one-man band. Besides, there might be place for more talented musicians on this stage. And one maybe even for you."

Jaskier's hands balled into fists as he stared after Valdo once he left. Geralt scoffed.

"If I ever commit a crime in this life, this man will be the victim of it."

Jaskier sucked in a harsh breath through his nose. There was no way he was going to let Valdo steal the spotlight, again.

This was the perfect time to get his friends and change into their performance outfits - let everyone see The Sandpipers still got it.

--

Amaryllis felt both amused and confused as she approached the table Geralt, Radovid and Yennefer sat together at. She wasn't quite sure what she was looking at. Yennefer had a lock of Radovid's hair in her hand, inspecting it like a surgeon before an important surgery.

"This is so damaged," she slurred, her usually snappy, almost cold exterior buried under several glasses of gin and tonic. "Your hair's so pretty, and you let it get so damaged."

"I don't have time for a hair care routine, I wish I did," Radovid lamented. The way he lifted his glass was a little uncertain.

"Geralt, touch his hair," Yennefer demanded, "feel the split ends."

Geralt took another piece of Radovid's hair between his fingers. He hummed.

"It's dry."

"Yeah, what about yours?" Radovid huffed. He twisted Geralt's hair around his fingers. His eyes widened. "Oh, this is soft. Why is it soft?"

"Feel mine," Yennefer giggled. Radovid did, holding onto both their hair with an awed expression.

"Uhm... hello?" Amaryllis greeted them with a chuckle. They flitted apart in such a panicky way, like Amaryllis just caught them making out with each other - which, judging by the way they lovingly caressed each other's hair for God knows how long, and how extremely drunk they were, wouldn't even have been outside of the realm of possibilities.

There was a strange tension between them- competitiveness, for sure, but also something else. Something that had nothing to do with butting heads over getting into Jaskier's good graces, or fighting for the parental rights over Amaryllis. It was something else, a weirdly vibrating chemistry that Amaryllis couldn't quite describe.

"Jaskier... I mean, Amaryllis," Geralt groaned. He shook his head, blinking rapidly. "Shit, it's dark in here."

"Your eyesight is just getting worse, old man," Yennefer teased. "You also can't hold your liquor."

"Are you in the right state to talk?" Amaryllis asked carefully, interrupting Geralt who was about to defend his own honor. Amaryllis snorted when Radovid grabbed her hands, nodding frantically.

"Anything you wanna say, we're ready to hear."

"Alright...so, I was wondering, if you guys maybe wanted to go out with my papa?"

Geralt stuttered something. Yennefer just stared at her. Radovid once again nodded, the alcohol dissolving his pretenses entirely.

"I want to!"

"As... a date?" Yennefer checked. Her cheeks flushed, not just from the alcohol. Amaryllis smiled at her.

"Yes. I think you could each take him out individually. Spend some time with him, because... there's a chance his own gut feelings can come in handy, so to speak, in our little scheme. And, you know, he hasn't been on a date in decades."

She wanted to speed up the process of figuring out the truth a little bit, and she realized maybe Jaskier also needed some time together with the candidates in order to do that- besides, Amaryllis was hoping to secure him the one and only. Her papa definitely deserved some spoiling, as well.

"Decades?" Geralt whispered in horror. "You're telling me he hasn't been... romanced, after we left?"

"Except for Vespula, of course," Radovid pointed out with a snort.

"That was just a couple of times, and nothing since then," Amaryllis clarified. "Look, I know you all still have feelings for him. And I'm sure that's mutual. Let's kick things into gear!"

They all shared a look, which was full of confusion, a sense of challenge and a third, unrecognizable emotion.

Amaryllis swore when she heard Valdo's unmistakable voice in the microphone.

"This is for the wonderful brides, one of them which is unlucky enough to call Jaskier her father. Don't worry, beautiful Amaryllis, this song will cheer you up!"

"The only thing this song will do is make me commit arson," Amaryllis huffed. She quickly scanned the crowd, trying to find either her father or his friends, but she didn't see them anywhere.

--

Jaskier didn't know if he should have screamed or cried in frustration. He once again had to realize he was making a stupid decision.

He really should have thought ahead and tried on his outfit before the performance, instead of just picking it out blindly. He gave in to his friends' nagging and matched with them, but the problem was that the glittery, tight skirt he wanted to put on was one he used to wear before Amaryllis's birth. He was twenty years old when he last wore it, and many things have changed in the meantime. His body, most of all - and realizing this, minutes before he was planning to go on stage, was an incredibly humiliating experience.

"This is so embarrassing," Jaskier whined, his face burning with shame. "God, what was I thinking? I'm not twenty anymore, and definitely not skinny, either. I'm going to embarrass my daughter at her own bridal shower! Ridiculous, a cow trying to parade around."

"Hey, don't say that! You agreed you would wear it!" Essi reminded him softly. "Besides, you wanna show Valdo Marx you're the better performer, right? Grab onto that energy!"

"The only thing I can grab onto are my love handles."

"Calm down, would you?" Priscilla snorted from behind him, where she was still struggling to work his zipper up all the way. "And suck in a little!"

"I'm already sucking in, Priscilla, that's what I'm saying!"

Jaskier buried his face in his hands with a whimper. There was no way his exes would find him attractive in this, with the skirt pulled so tight over his wide hips. What if it would rip open on his fat ass, in front everyone? He would not survive that humiliation. Valdo would never let him live it down, and Amaryllis would be scarred for life.

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror with a deep sigh. He always believed he looked pretty, and he looked younger than his age, mostly - but the passage of time did not fully spare him, neither did the changes pregnancy did to his body. Sure, he wasn't fat, that was a bit of a hysterical over-exaggeration, but he definitely had some cushion for the pushing. He was not a young Omega with long, slim legs and a tiny waist anymore. What was the point in pretending otherwise?

"You know what, I'm not even gonna perform," Jaskier pouted. "You girls go and do your lovely thing. I don't wanna ridicule you, too."

Priscilla finally managed to zip him up. She also managed to slap him on the ass so hard that Jaskier yelped.

"Ow! What the hell!?"

"Say one more self-loathing thing about yourself, and I will full on spank you!" Priscilla growled. She grabbed Jaskier by the shoulders and spun him around, glaring daggers up at him. "Did you forget who you are? You are Jaskier Pankratz, for fuck's sake! The sexiest, sluttiest Omega on this island. The charmer, the sex god, everyone's favorite goddamn lay! Even the freaking mayor wanted to fuck you! You have three people practically pissing themselves with the need to suffocate between your thighs, and you're whining!?"

Jaskier gaped. Essi hid her giggles behind her hand.

"You got a bit curvaceous, so what? You look freaking amazing!"

Jaskier looked down on the outline of his belly through the skirt. He frowned.

"But..."

"You. Are. Hot," Essi told him, accentuating each word. "And trust me, people will drown in their own drool when they'll see you!"

"You are smoking hot," Priscilla continued. "Pull yourself together, sweet cheeks, and show everyone what you're made of! And this, right here,” she grinned, lovingly pinching Jaskier’s tummy, “is a very sexy little accessory."

Jaskier opened his mouth to argue, but he wisely decided against it when Priscilla and Essi all but growled at him. He rolled his eyes with a sigh. He could only hope he would survive this evening without a catastrophic event.

--

The crowd erupted into cheers, drowning out Valdo's voice when The Sandpipers entered the stage.

Valdo's eyes bulged out of his head when he spotted Jaskier. Jaskier ignored the queasy feeling inside him and marched forward.

As soon as the music rang out, his confidence started to seep back in. He felt in his element on stage, living together with the rhythm. Essi and Priscilla looked beautiful and radiant next to him, sparkling in their matching outfits.

Jaskier opened his mouth to sing, and everyone cheered again. Valdo marched off the stage, looking like a kicked dog.

No one laughed at him, instead everyone stared in awe. Amaryllis, Sara and their friends hollered. Jaskier's eyes skimmed the crowd for some more familiar faces.

His heart leapt when he noticed them - they were staring, and they absolutely did not seem to mind the way he looked. In fact, Yennefer licked her lips in a hungry way that made a pleasant shiver run down Jaskier's spine. Geralt gripped onto the edge of the table so hard that it rattled. Radovid shamelessly raked his eyes over him.

Seeing them looking at him like this, with so much unabashed awe and lust, all of Jaskier's insecurities melted away. He suddenly felt so young again, so playful and seductive. He's missed the feeling so much. He batted his eyelashes at them, which were elongated by mascara. His eyeliner did not just frame his eyes like usually, he made it winged. There was glitter on his eyelids to match his top and skirt. He even put on high-heeled ankle boots.

Finally, he felt sexy again as his exes' eyes followed him all over the stage, glued to the way he moved. Jaskier swayed his hips, running his hand over the curve of them teasingly before he leant forward, letting them take a peek at his cleavage.

He danced and sang full of energy, full of youthful playfulness. Everyone clapped and cheered and whistled. Jaskier felt like he was soaring as he playfully shook his butt, earning some more hollering from the crowd. Okay, maybe he still got it.

Jaskier could only look at them as he finished their last song. Their jaws hung open, their pupils were blown wide. He could feel the intense Alpha, and the less aggressive but spicy Beta pheromones in the air. Essi and Priscilla gave him a proud gin.

Daring, Jaskier his exes a kiss. Geralt swore under his breath, Radovid's jaw dropped even lower, and Yennefer batted her eyelashes.

--

"Dick up, brain down," Ciri said simply, pointing at where the three candidates practically melted over the table. Amaryllis laughed in disbelief.

"Damn, your papa is sexy," Marion grinned. Sara turned to her fiancée, amused.

"So, are they taking your papa on a date?"

"After this performance?" Amaryllis chuckled. She looked at Jaskier, who exited the stage with a flourish, grinning brightly. Then, she glanced at the other three, who had hearts in their eyes instead of pupils.

"I think they're all ready to take him to heaven."

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

"You look adorable when you smile" for someone of your choice

Thank you CJ <3 I hope this isn't too rambling for you <3

“The first dance belongs to the bride and groom.”

The band played, and as Richard offered Alex’s hand, she noticed the trembling in his fingers, she took it, clasping her fingers around his and smiling as he led her into the center of the dance floor.

They looked like a fairy tale, the handsome war hero and his dazzling new bride, only that they had actually been married for almost seven years, the first wedding had been done in the middle of a battle scarred field, a handful of friends and a dozen strangers, Harris translating the Spanish Priests words, a dress that was handmade, dancing to Hagman’s fiddle after, drinking stolen french wine.

But now, with the war over, Alex’s parents had been set on giving them a ‘proper’ wedding in the grounds of the Baker house, under the sun, a rare British summer's day, now here they were under white canvas of a large tent, Richard looked as if he was about to be executed by firing squad.

“It's a waltz, Mon petit gâteau..no need to look so nervous.” 

They began to dance, she led, Richard for all his talents had two left feet

“If I cock this up the facade of me being a gentleman will crumble..” He muttered

“That comes later, when you’ve drunk too much and tell Robert to shut his mouth.” She smiled, they spun “And secretly, Papa will applaud you and place you top of the son-in-law list.”

“If my only competition is Robert, that shouldn’t be difficult.”

More people joined them, dancing, her Mother and Father were the first, then Harold and his wife Arabella, then finally, Robert and Charlotte.

“You're a war hero and Robert is a lout, It is hardly a competition at all.”

He chuckled and smiled, “I know what you really want to call him, love, and it isn’t a lout.”

“A bride shouldn’t be so vulgar on her wedding day.” She smirked “That should be saved for the wedding night.”

“I may not be up to date on fashion..but isn’t a white dress normally reserved for..”

“Someone pure?” She snorted, which earned a glare from her Mother as she and her Father swirled passed “Yes, and I know that my wearing a white dress when we have three children is a tad hypocritical..” 

“A tad?” He raised his eyebrows 

“But, Maddie was born after we were married and as far as anyone needs to know, we didn’t sleep together until we were man and wife.”

“Nobody can believe that.” 

“We can pretend..”

They danced in silence for a few beats, enjoying the closeness that dancing allowed them, the look of dread had gone from Richard’s face, and now he was grinning, his eyes glistening like the golden medals pinned to his jacket.

“You look adorable when you smile..”

“Adorable?” 

He seemed so offended by the compliment that he almost stepped on her foot.

“You’ve never called me that before..”

“Well its true, Happiness suits you.”

“Not nearly as well as it does you, my dear.”

The song stopped and Richard was forced to let her go, his hand dropping from her waist, he brought her gloved hand to his lips and kissed the back, a proper gentleman.

“Richard..”

At Robert’s voice, she saw his eyes change from affection aimed at her to annoyance. 

“I say…for a rogue from the streets you do indeed clean up rather nicely.”

Richard’s nostrils flared and Alex cut in before fists started flying.

“Doesn’t he just?” She giggled “Bobbie, We were just talking about you..”

“Nothing bad I hope?”

“Oh never..” Alex shot a glance at Richard “We were just saying how we were sad we didn’t get to attend Lottie and yours wedding..you had Father Brown officiate that also, didn’t you?”

“Oh yes we did, we got married in the chapel, the weather was the total opposite of today, it was raining cats and dogs..”

As Robert continued to ramble, Alex saw Richard glance to the other side of the room.

“I think someone wants a word with me..” 

Before she could protest he was gone, Robert continued on, something about one of his great-aunts having too much sherry and falling into the cake.

Alex thinks she preferred her first wedding.

[erodasfishtacos]

*CHICAGO*

i write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is today!!!!!!! ����)

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it!

——

The public didn’t know that some of the pictures that are posted of Harry that are tagged and credited to the on tour photographers were actually taken by his wife.

For example, after Chicago, the picture of Harry in the tub - completely bare and worn down from his show, you actually think the photographer took that?

No, that was snapped with YN’s iPhone, like some of the other pictures he’s posted.

Just like the one where he’s asleep on the hotel bed in a robe in Paris with all of his stuff splayed around him - allegedly taken by helene. ***

But no, it had been his wife, they had just taken a shower together and she had stayed in for a bit longer to shave her legs - when she had come out and seen him passed out.

She had to tug a bit at the robe so he wasn’t exposed and make it x-rated, then she pulled out her phone and snapped the picture - sending it to Jeff with a teasing caption.

yn: It’s exhausting being a popstar

And just like that, it appears on his Instagram for fans to go crazy over.

Or what about the snapshot of his tank that had his famous slogan embroidered into the side of the white fabric. ***

His wedding band reflecting in the flash of the light, a subtle glance at his rippled muscle below the attire as they work on his hair.

“Mm, I’m gonna save this for a lonely night,” YN jokes as she tucks her phone away.

Harry’s hand comes to cup her jaw, looking down at her where she’s sat on the floor, “Y’so fuckin’ pretty, y’know that?”

YN’s eyelids flutter a bit as she glances away from his intense gazes - he still gives her butterflies.

“Don’t get shy on me, baby. Can I not tell m’wife how gorgeous she is?” He asks, bring her hand up to kiss the back of it, “Look s’good with tha’ ring on.”

And the one that made fans go crazy.

On a warm evening, in a hotel room between venues in Italy, where they had been lounging around all day.

YN in just a thin gauzy dress that accentuated the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra and Harry just in the trousers he’d worn to get them coffee earlier that morning.

“You just took a picture of me! It’s my turn,” YN giggles, getting on her knees on the old squeaky couch and snatching the camera off of him.

“I took a picture because y’tits look nice in tha’ dress. I can see y’nipples and it’s turnin’ me on,” Harry defends, holding up his book as she snaps it.

“H, c’mon,” She pouts but squeaks when Harry tugs her into him, dropping the book and the camera as he adjusts her on his lap.

“Gonna let me take a picture of y’all nice and fucked out, darling?” He rasps, ignoring her pout and hiking her dress up her hips.

And it’s happened throughout the years, so many pictures that were littered over the internet where just uncredited snapshots from YN.

Just like the one from 2013, they were on tour, and Harry was supposed to be recording for the next album after soundcheck and before the concert. ***

Instead, after soundcheck, Harry and YN had snuck off to a little meadow and lake to have a swim. He had shimmied down to his briefs and waded in.

YN stood back, snapping a picture of him and his friend as the complained about how freezing cold it was.

“Baby, c’mon. Come get in!” Harry had shouted back to his girlfriend on the dry land, “I need some warmth, s’freezing!”

YN grimaces, just in Harry’s shirt and a pair of yoga shorts, dipping her toe in and shaking her head - “I’ll enjoy from here!”

“Please, bug,” He pouts, motioning for her to come in.

She does after a moment, squealing at the temperature before quickly finding her way into Harry’s arms.

“Only have fun on tour when y’with me,” He had murmured into her ear before he dunked her underwater and they play fought until their stomachs hurt from laughing.

And then came the notorious picture that had gotten a million likes in thirteen minutes, oh, the chicago ice bath.

Harry had been achey since tour had begun, constantly complaining about his back and ankles from the shows.

“Baby, just rub m’back a lil’ longer please?” He had whimpered the night before, the tour bus bed did not help him much at all.

When his trainer had recommended an ice bath immediately after the show - YN had made sure to arrange it despite his protests.

After exiting the stage in his black and lilac outfit, he’d been lured into the bathroom with a promise of sex but instead was a steel tub filled with ice water.

Jeff, Lambert, Tommy - everyone was watching on in amusement as he adamantly tried to deny that it would help and the peer pressure wasn’t make him anymore convinced.

“Alright, everyone out,” YN had finally tittered, shooing out the circus before closing the door for privacy.

She helps strip her husband out of his close as he looks at her reproachfully, “You promised me sex.”

“After,” YN assures him, kissing his puffy lips and asking softly, “Just try it, if it doesn’t work - you don’t have to do it again.”

He grumbles a bit, muttering, “Don’t look at m’bits, they’re gonna shrivel up.”

YN giggles, “As if I haven’t seen your bits in every shape and form.”

As he slips in, YN has to snap a picture of his eyes wide and lips pursed at the shock of the freezing water cooling down his hot, sticky skin.

“Holy fucking shit,” Harry hisses, lowering self until he’s sat - his nipples instantly hardening and he’s breathing roughly out of his nose.

“Five minutes, I’ll set the timer,” YN says, setting it on her phone before sitting down next to the tub as he tries to relax.

“Baby, fuck. Reminds me of that really cold lake in Boston, ‘member?” He squeezes his eyes shut and reaches until YN intertwines their hands.

“Yeah, that wasn’t as cold as that one time you convince me to skinny dip with you on the coast of france.”

“Oh yeah, that one was really fucking cold too,” Harry murmurs, keeping his eyes closed and steadying his breathing.

(During WWA tour - ***)

“Harry, are you insane? Anyone could see us? Paul could walk out or the boys. I’m not-“

She’s cut off when Harry shucks off his swimsuit bottoms, his skin’s glowing in the moonlight and the light waves lapping at the shore are soothing.

YN swallows harshly, tries not to stare at how handsome and overwhelming beautiful he is as he turns to step towards the water.

She looks over her shoulder nervously before stepping out of her one-piece, he waits for her at the shoreline.

“Y’so so stunnin’,” Harry tells her, thumbing at the soft curve of her breast and leaning in for a soft kiss when he feed her shake.

“You could have anyone,” YN whispers against his lips, “Every girl on this earth wants you like this. I’m just some girl from before all this,” she motions to the extravagant bungalow they’re staying at.

“I don’t know why y’think tha’s bad. I want t’experience all this with you, m’first love and m’only love. I’m going to marry y’soon, you know tha’?” He replies, lips tracing the curve of her neck.

“You better,” She giggles, hands going to his shoulder as he sucks a mark into the thin skin.

He pulls back with a frown, “M’not jokin’, I don’t care that we’re young - M’gonna do it.”

“I can’t wait,” YN kisses his jutted out lip, squealing when he tugs her into the water and the chilled waves crash against her hips, “H, it’s so cold.”

“M’gonna keep y’warm, hush up,” He titters, pulling her into his chest until her breasts are smushed against his strong pecs and his arms are around her shoulder, “Love experiencing this w’you, everythin’ w’you.”

-

YN is brought back from her daydream by her husband wiping his finger under her eyelid, “Darling, wha’ is it?”

She hadn’t realized she had teared up thinking of the fond memory, “I want to go back to that bungalow. We had such a good time. I…I just love you.”

His wife chuckles like she’s pathetic for crying about it but he leans out of the tub, cupping her jaw and pulling her in for a hard kiss.

“Don’t be embarrassed, flower,” There was no teasing in his voice, it was sincere, “If anyone should be embarrassed - I’m the one who travels around the world t’sing love songs ‘bout you.”

Their lips join again, his tongue finding its way into her mouth when Jeff, Lambert, and Tommy barge through the door.

“Jesus Christ, only you could be trying to get some while sat in an ice bath,” Jeff scoffs with a smile but instantly knows they’ve fucked up.

“Get out, the fuck?” Harry sits up, “Don’t interrupt me and m’wife. Get out!”

They stumble out and just then the alarm goes off.

YN helps him out, tucking him into a towel and helping him dry off - his head tucked into her neck and hand on her belly - massaging.

“Do you feel any better?” She hums while getting some stray droplets on the nape of his neck as he nuzzles into her warm skin.

“Mm,” He agrees drowsily, hand slipping under her shirt for more heat and she jumps at his icey touch, “Want t’sleep.”

And when they get to the hotel, YN logs onto his Instagram and uploads the ice bath pictures with nobody knowing the story behind it.

-

Hope you enjoyed!

[vatican3]

Do You have any thoughts about Nihil's friend. Would love to hear if you do.

Prefacing all of this with the fact that you really need to buy into my Nihil-is-a-girl canon for almost any of this to interest you.

I feel like I need to split this up into sections but as I'm writing this I have no clue what those sections will be. But they're all. General concepts.

BESTIE:

Cishet. Sorry.

Except for when I sometimes hit him with the transbian beam because I can't help myself. But we'll get to that.

Despite looking like a massive douchebag this guy is so sweet and full of love. Assigned dogboy.

Best friends with Nihil for a long long time, Nihil is known and loved by his family.

They are roommates. They live in a shitty apartment together. They're in a shitty band together. They go to shitty parties together. They're having the time of their lives.

But he's like, hm, I do sort of want Nihil carnally but as far as I know I am not into men. They get drunk and make out constantly.

Nihil eventually comes around to telling him she's a girl and he's like OHHH THAT MAKES WAY MORE SENSE FOR ME, PERSONALLY.

Upon learning he is avoiding a sexuality crisis (for now. We'll get out the transbian beam in a minute) he's like okay, obviously we should have sex. Nihil also thinks this because she is bored and horny and thinks hey he's pretty sexy that would be fun. This is a great solution to the nights when neither of them experiences success with women.

So they fuck raw every single day basically.

It does not take long for them to individually figure out they are in love with each other but it does take them forever to say fucking anything about it.

There is a weird relationship limbo where they are really not sure if they're dating and are too scared to ask. Bestie has stopped trying to hit on other women.

Their friends in their shitty rock band do not understand what their dynamic is and they are trying to piece it together from context clues and it just is not happening. They are also confused about Nihil's general gender situation but they are beyond asking questions.

BESTIE IS PRIMO'S DAD:

Despite the fucking raw every day they are somehow surprised when Nihil ends up pregnant (there is nary a brain cell between them).

Nihil is vomiting. They think it must be a stomach bug. And then she just keeps vomiting and now certain smells are making her nauseous that didn't before and her period is not making an appearance when it should be. And then they're like, don't think this one's a stomach bug, man.

Bestie is terrified for fatherhood.

But very excited!

Nihil has to speedrun going girlmode because pregnancy is not going to wait for that to get figured out.

Nihil, because of how she is, has about 50 books about pregnancy in her room. Bestie makes the mistake of reading one of them and is now gripped with anxieties about everything that could possibly go wrong.

Bestie tries to gather band friends without Nihil to tell them she's pregnant. They do not understand. He can see the gears trying to turn in their heads. It's not clicking. They are excited for this mystery baby regardless.

Bestie calls his family to explain that hey you know Nihil? Yeah you do. We're having a kid and also she's kind of my girlfriend not clear on that one yet. Try not to ask questions I do not have answers.

He wins some shitty arcade jewelry for them to wear as wedding rings to doctor appointments because they are already not stoked about this greasy freak having a kid with some nice girl but an unmarried greasy freak is worse.

They go to see Bestie's family for Christmas with baby Primo in hand. There are clearly questions. Nobody is going to ask. Bestie's siblings try to talk to Nihil like she's a new person and she's like, I have known you forever what are you fucking doing.

They can pawn off baby Primo on Bestie's extended family and cuddle and fall asleep by the fireplace together. They are so tired. Did you know having a baby is so hard.

BESTIE IS A VAMPIRE:

You don't need me to explain this.

You've seen the Dance Macabre video.

NIHIL IS BESTIE'S GIRLFRIEND FOR REAL THIS TIME:

They are so into each other it's either adorable or disgusting depending on what kind of person you are.

Bestie is at work exclusively talking about his girlfriend and how she is and how excited he is to go home and see her.

I don't have time or room to fit all of my nurse Nihil thoughts prompted by that other person in here. But please understand how much I thought about this concept.

Bestie is so into her and constantly brings home presents for her. Candy. Clothes.

They just fucking love watching horror movies and cuddling and eating Chinese leftovers together.

TRANSBIAN BEAM:

Someone tell this girl she can be butch.

Imp/Nihil/Bestie Femme4Femme4Butch throuple.

Nihil has two hands for two hot vampire gfs.

[restapesta]

If you're still doing the sentence starters ☺️

30. “Fuck....you look...” // “You gonna finish that sentence?”

Everybody's drunk.

Ian can tell by the way his and Mickey's guests are dancing. The change in their step, the motions of their torsos and hips, gradually moving away from an innocent wedding celebration to an impromptu clothes-on orgy.

Ian smirks from his seat as he watches Liam, perhaps the only sober person in the room, jump up and down to some old Katy Perry song. Debbie and Sandy are next to him, the ugly wedding dress pooling around his sister's legs. It's probably because she had just chugged down her fifth beer, but the fabric catches around her feet, making her slip multiple times on the dancefloor. Sandy laughs loudly as she stops her from face-planting the wood beneath them for the third time in a row, grabbing her steadily by the hips. Debbie simply continues giggling, eyes filtering across the room to Franny who's sitting with Gemma and Amy at the kid's table, playing on a Nintendo Switch.

Nobody's really paying attention to Ian, despite this being, well, his wedding. The room is jam-packed with family, distant relatives, once-upon-a-time acquaintances, and people Ian has never seen in his entire fucking life—but they're all doing their own shit. All the guests are stuck in their own worlds, enjoying the party like any Southside asshole would, gorging on the drinks, and grinding to the music, not sparing a care in the world.

Ian can't blame him. He's stuck in his own happy little bubble, too.

It's hard not to be—it doesn't matter the music's abnormally loud and the air is stuffy from the sweaty bodies over-crowding the venue—not when Mickey is standing in his line of sight, chugging down a glass of water at the bar, his golden ring glinting blindingly in Ian's eyes.

He follows the movement of his husband's—holy shit—hand as he places the cup down, then gestures at the old bartender to get him something else from the vast array of drinks on the shelves behind him. His fingers soon outstretch to grasp onto the neck of a beer bottle, and Ian can't help but love the way the bands are cutting through the U of his U-UP tattoo, even more prominent now.

The exact moment his husband lifts the beer to his lips, his eyes start darting around the room. Ian watches as Mickey's gaze flows slowly around the space, not stopping for longer than a second, obviously searching for something. The beautiful blue eyes only stop once they lock onto Ian's.

Ian can practically see the breath catch in Mickey's throat, even with the distance between them, too large in his opinion. The way Mickey gulps as he realizes Ian's eyes have been on him this entire time. That, despite the music and family and guests, all that's on Ian's mind is the reason why he's here in the first place:

Mickey.

It's as simple as that.

Ian licks his lips as he tilts his head slightly towards the doors. It's nothing to the uncaring eye, but Ian knows Mickey caught onto the message he was trying to convey by the newfound glint in his eye.

Ian gets up slowly from his seat and wobbles out of the door, so distracted that he doesn't even care about the irritating brace around his leg. He had been annoyed by it the entire day—thought it ruined the full groom look.

Fuck, he's a groom. A husband. Somebody's partner for life.

Mickey's partner for life.

It's hard to wrap his head around it; that he's married to the man of his dreams. That this is their wedding and their reception and their celebration because they just got married and would spend the rest of their lives together.

Ian breathes in the slightly fresher air the moment the doors close shut behind him. He feels the cool air chill his hot skin, and all he does is lean against the ugly-colored wall and wait, enjoying the feel of his sweaty back pressing against the cold concrete.

It takes no longer than a few seconds for the love of his life to enter the hallway, a wide grin on his face, stretching out even wider the moment he spots Ian carelessly standing around, waiting for him to show up.

Ian rakes his eyes over his husband. From head to toe, he observes the greatness that is Mickey Milkovich, Southside thug—Ian's husband—wearing a suit so hot, Ian can't wait to tear off with his bare teeth.

"Like what you see?" His husband teases, walking over slowly.

"You look..." Ian starts, sighing loudly when Mickey stands right in front of him, gazing slightly up. There's only a foot of space between them, and Ian can smell Mickey's cologne and feel his warm breath on the skin of his neck. His breath stops short, lungs constricting as he locks eyes with the love of his life, pulled in by the softness of Mickey's gaze.

He opens his mouth to speak, but Mickey cuts him short by arching an eyebrow. "You gonna finish that sentence?"

Ian won't.

But Ian will grasp his husband by the hips—the perfect mixture between soft and rough, somehow both—and spin them around so he's the one pressed against the wall and not Ian. He will press himself up against Mickey so not a sliver of space is left between them, and he will lick his bottom lip as he focuses on Mickey's mouth, parted slightly.

He's wanted to kiss him this entire time. Every single moment they were on the dance floor, and each time their eyes locked, almost always.

"You look beautiful," Ian whispers finally, and Mickey's eyes glisten slightly as he smiles.

"I think you look beautiful, too."

Ian presses their lips together softly, nothing but a second of touch, and he feels all the butterflies erupt in his stomach, breathing raggedly as he pulls away by an inch.

Mickey's arms wrap around his neck immediately and he's pulled back, mouths slotting together in a kiss that may just be Ian's favorite to date. Their first kiss as husbands had been the best he's ever had mere hours ago, but Ian has a feeling each new kiss would be taking up the number one spot with his husband.

They keep kissing against the wall of the Polish Doll hallway, surrounded by nothing but muffled music and the sounds of their own breathing—they're a married couple, making out at their own wedding.

Life can't get better than this, can it?

But it will, the next time Mickey kisses him. The next time he smiles and his face lights up at the sight of Ian.

It may be too soon to tell, but Ian can't help it—this is the start of his life, right here, right now.

Finally free, Mickey by his side.

Ian's own happy ending.

[youngerdrgrey]

moments from a wedding // a wildmoore series, part 2

summary: “We sat across that table at The Hold Up, and we said, ‘to different minds, but the same heart.’ You are my heart, and I am so fucking happy to be your wife.” // Or, moments from a wildmoore wedding + read on ao3 (part one here) chapter two summary: Unintentional ring talk does not go the way Sophie would've expected.

🦇

to talking 'bout rings —

Mary’s the one who came up with Bat Team Time Outs — or, bonding nights that were intentionally meant to be about fun and bonding and nobody else in the world. They’ve done karaoke and mini-golf, but Sophie’s favorites are the drinking nights.

Mary usually sits in the solo chair for dramatic effect. She loves to call it the hot seat and stare them all down while they play whichever game she’s chosen. Luke normally sits on one side of the couch while Ryan and Sophie take the other.

But tonight’s seating reminds Sophie of that first drinking night. Back at the loft with Cluemaster’s tequila. Tonight, Ryan tucks herself into the corner of the couch with her legs pulled close. She’s barely touching Sophie. Barely looks at her even.

“Okay, I got one! I got one!” Mary pitches forward a little too far on the couch. She looks a second from toppling over, but her excitement’s magnetic. “Would you rather have an extravagant engagement ring that can never come off or like a simple band that’s removable but it turns your finger green?”

Luke speaks up. “What kind of question is that?” Mary shushes him.

Ryan turns her beer bottle in her hands. “Neither."

Sophie glances over at her girlfriend. “You can’t say neither.”

“I just did.” She shrugs. “Engagement rings are impractical anyway.”

Mary cuts in. “What are you talking about? You wear rings all the time. You’re wearing rings right now!”

Ryan lifts up her hands to show off the silver bands that she wears all the time. The ones Sophie knows intimately. “Bands. Not bulky rings that snag on the batsuit.” She almost sounds defensive.

Sophie turns to Mary. “Ryan has a point. My old rings were too bulky to wear all the time, so I would take them off.” Stuff them in her pockets, or her locker, until Tyler reminded her to put them back on. “Option B it is. I definitely need something a bit more subtle.” She glances down at Ryan’s rings again. “Ryan too, so it can fit under her gloves.”

Ryan’s voice has a slight edge to it as she says, “You’ve got it all figured out, huh?”

Sophie forces a laugh. “You mentioned a problem, and I offered a solution.”

Ryan shakes her head. “It's not a problem. I just don't understand why they matter so much. Or why you need two of them."

Why is Ryan pushing back on this? “Well, one is a promise and one is—“

“Also a promise?”

Luke clears his throat, and Sophie’s reply dies in hers. “I need another drink." He sends a raised brow her way. "Sophie?”

Sophie glances down at her nearly empty beer and nods. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

She lets him lead the way from the living room to her kitchen. The best thing about this place is the newfound space. Sophie’s old condo was condensed, and the loft offered no privacy. But here, they don’t have to lower their voices that much to keep a quiet talk between them.

Sophie drops their empty bottles in the recycling and heads for the fridge to grab new ones. Tries to will her mind to stay calm. So what if Ryan’s being weird about rings? Or that things are different recently? They’re fine. They’ve been through weird periods before. It’s probably nothing.

“So…” Luke comes to stand beside her at the fridge, “how are we playing this? Are we pretending like you aren’t planning your engagement or…?”

“I’m not planning. I’m thinking,” she says. He scoffs. She amends. “Thinking ahead. In an organized way.”

He sighs. She sighs and pulls two beers out of the fridge before closing it.

She snags the bottle opener out of the drawer. “You should’ve heard her voice when I brought it up before. She’s not ready. And I don’t want to throw things off.” Well, more off.

Luke nods. “I’ll tell Mary to avoid bringing it up, but you’re gonna have to talk to Ryan and sort it out.”

Sophie pops their beers. “That simple, huh?”

“It could be.” He takes his. “Ryan loves you, so clearly it’s something else. Figure it out, and then you’ll be able to go for it.” He pauses. “Wait, do you want to ask, or do you want Ryan to?”

“Hypothetically…” it’s a quiet night in their home, and it smells like fresh flowers and something warming on the stove. Maybe the moonlight streams in, since so much of their relationship started with the moon above them. Hypothetically, “Ryan asks. I have spent way too much time asking what she wants. It’d be nice for her to do it this time.”

Luke considers that. “Or you can ask for what you want. You get to do that, you know.”

“I do.” She’s also made it clear what she wants. She hasn’t wavered from the moment she kissed Ryan in those woods. “Thank you, though, for caring. And checking on me.”

He grins. “Just remember that when it comes time to choose who’s who in the wedding.”

Now who’s planning? Sophie shakes her head. “Jordan's called dibs on Maid of Honor.”

Luke sucks his teeth. “She did it the first time, and you saw how that wedding turned out.”

A hoarse laugh from Sophie. “That’s different, and you know it.”

His face scrunches. “Is it though?”

Ryan comes into the kitchen. “What are you two laughing about?”

“Jordan,” they say together. Sophie’s appreciative smile is enough of a dismissal for him. Luke clinks the bottom of his beer against hers before heading out of the kitchen. Ryan waits until he’s gone to turn one of her apologetic grins up at Sophie.

“What’d my favorite Moore do now?”

“Invite us to brunch,” Sophie lies, but she can cover it with a quick text later. “She wants us to meet her new boyfriend.”

Ryan cringes. “Please tell me he’s better than the last one.”

“We’ll be the judge of that. Come on.” Sophie starts to head back to their friends, but Ryan stops her with a touch to her left wrist. Soft fingers wind their way down to loop around Sophie’s ring finger.

“You know what’s different?” Ryan starts softly. “When people get tattoos instead of rings.” Sophie’s face drops without her permission. She can handle a lot, but tattoos?

Ryan honestly laughs, so it must be a joke. She pitches up on her toes to kiss Sophie’s frown away. Then kisses her again as their lips find the rhythm they know so well. But even in this kiss, Sophie’s brows knit together.

Sophie pulls back. “I already got a tattoo with you. I’m not getting another.”

Ryan traces the spot where Sophie’s little bat tattoo is. “So you’ll marry me but you won’t get a second tattoo?”

“Yes.” Sophie’s voice is firm. Maybe a little too firm since Ryan pouts. “But you can get one. Or,” Sophie pulls Ryan into her arms, and Ryan sinks into the hold, “we could talk about what's actually bothering you.”

Ryan doesn’t stiffen, which is a good sign, just sinks a little deeper and sighs into Sophie’s chest. “Not today, okay?”

“But soon?”

Ryan nods. “Soon. I promise.”

Sophie reminds herself to be patient. They have their whole lives. It’s fine. They’re fine. Right?

🦇

end of author's note: thanks for rocking with me. as always, talk to me Gotham. what'cha feeling?

read part three

[miekasa]

mie!! i’m so late to the party but i absolutely loved ‘NICE’, it made me feel so warm and fuzzy <33 it’s so unique to its own and the flow of it is beyond wonderful!

what is married life like for oc and eren in ‘NICE’? is it just like before/do you have any nice!husband!eren headcanons?

AHH I’m so happy you liked it and that you took the time to come and tell me!! Married life for them... doesn’t really differ from what their lives looked like before actually hehe. They were basically married without knowing it 🙄🙄 idiots to lovers or something like that; but here are a few head canons of the months immediately following NICE!

You officially got married in Paris on the fourth, not too long after Carla’s wedding. You guys flew in some officials, checked through all the technicalities, and signed the papers right on top of the Eiffel Tower (access granted by the city of Paris upon request of one Carla Jaeger, of course). 

Aside from having the most picturesque location in the world to sign your marriage certificate, there wasn’t anything lavish in celebration after that. Carla’s wedding was just three days earlier, after all, and was still the talk of the local press. You did have a small party with your friends (Jean, Armin, Mikasa, Marco, Erwin, Levi, Hange came from the Alps for Carla’s wedding) in your overly large hotel room. Just some music, room service, and lots and lots of champagne.

Eren extended your winter break vacation by two weeks for an impromptu honeymoon to the Bahamas before you went home. Let’s just say you did not leave the safe haven of your hotel room very often, except to dip into the ocean a few nights (benefits of a private beach).

After getting married, the rings swapped places; the band with diamonds previously on your pointer finger was put on a chain (a new one since Eren threw the other one on the ground 💀), and you now wear the engagement ring on your ring finger.

Eren doesn’t like it when you take off the ring (the ring being the engagement ring). The first time you were going into the water, you were going to put it on the chain for safekeeping, but he protested very strongly. He would rather it rest safely in your suitcase than go around your neck again.

Your wedding bands are actually very similar to the band you already have: gold and diamond encrusted. Eren’s, however, has an emerald in the center, like the two emeralds that serve as the pistils of the sunflowers in your engagement ring (for reference, that ring looks something like this, but with a gold band). The bands were the first thing Eren bought when you guys got home.

Your friends in Dubai (Ymir, Reiner, Annie, Connie, Sasha) had no idea that you and Eren got married over winter break. Safe to say they were all… very surprised to hear the news. Connie was a little bit bitter because he missed it, and wolf whistles every time he sees your ring (even though he’s seen it before because you wore it on the necklace every day).

You got married in January, but have an official wedding in the process of being planned sometime around late summer/early fall. Carla insisted that you guys have a wedding despite already being married, and Eren agreed whole heartedly. They are both very into planning it, and yes, Eren is somewhat of a bridezilla, and his mom is enabling him 100% please.

The night you signed the wedding papers, Carla lent you an off-white satin couture gown from one of her past collections. She is designing and making your official wedding dress by hand, with the help of Mikasa.

The two of them are also making Eren’s suit, and all the outfits for your wedding party. Carla will murder you if you even so much as hint at just buying other suits/dresses. This is her baby’s wedding, and she runs one of the most renowned fashion houses of the modern century; she’ll be damned if you guys wear something off the rack.

You considered a destination wedding, but settled on having it in New York. You haven’t decided a location yet, and it’s the one thing Eren isn’t actually picky about (because you know he’s gonna go ham on the decor no matter where it is bye).

Jean doesn’t know it yet, but he’s your maid of honor. Good luck and best of wishes to Eren picking between Mikasa and Armin for best man.

Even before confessing and getting married, Eren never slept much in his own bedroom. You both have California king sized beds in your rooms, and more often than not, Eren would sleep with you in your bed. You didn’t always cuddle, but he just liked to be there (for your presence, and because he was grossly in love bye)… you ended up cuddling a lot of the time tho.

He wants to renovate your apartment now that you both “officially” live in the same bedroom, even though it’s not necessary. He just likes renovating things.

You guys go to dinner every weekend, and sometimes you even go dancing. Eren still can’t dance and he doesn’t actually care to learn; it just reminds him of being in Nice with you.

He kisses your ring finger every morning waking up and every night before going to bed; sometimes he even does it subconsciously in his sleep.

He holds your hand way more often. Not just because you guys are together now, but because he likes seeing the ring where it’s meant to be. He also notices that it helps to curb your anxiety, which is a good bonus.

Eren wants kids, but he hasn’t really brought it up yet. He knows you both are fairly young, and that you’re still technically in school, but that’s not really a deterrent for him.

The only reason he’s waiting to say something is because you guys have a lot going on with wedding planning and settling in to “married life”—there’s a lot of tedious paperwork to be done and documents to update. He’ll bring it up next year when all that is settled.

On the subject of school, you are still attending university, but have been eligible for graduation for a year now. You had enough credits to graduate last (the year before NICE) December, but there were a few more classes you wanted to take out of interest that hadn’t been running in past years, so you stayed for all four years. Eren picks you up from your lectures.

Eren graduated in December before you guys went on vacation. By normal standards, that’s a semester early. However, he was supposed to be in this Honors Arts and Sciences program, that should have taken him another two semesters. He decided it wasn’t worth it, and dropped the honors part, and with that, had enough credits to graduate, so he did.

A college degree is really more of an accessory for him anyway, and school was never his thing. He’s decently smart, sure, but he never enjoyed school because of the emphasis on exams; he’s more of a creative person, a dreamer if you will. The only reason he even went to Columbia was because you decided to go there. 

He and you both have enough money to live more than comfortably if neither of you decided to get a job after graduation… way more than enough/ But Eren isn’t doing nothing; he’s actually sorta been working his way into the world of professional interior design, and he really loves it. You’re proud of him, and more than anything, happy that he decided to go for something he loves.

Armin and Jean also graduated a semester early. Armin’s been living with Mikasa since Connie got his own place off-campus in January. Jean is a little upset blondie is living with his girlfriend before he is, but it’s whatever 🙄if it’s gonna be anyone, at least it’s Armin. 

Carla mentioned that Eren got married sometime during a NYFW interview (along with talking about her own recent marriage), and since then you both have interviewed for two magazines, one of which featured pictures from your smaller party in Paris. You’ve gotten requests from Vanity Fair and Vogue about your bigger wedding later in the year, but you guys haven’t invited any media officials as of yet.

You and Eren attend the MET Gala almost every year. You don’t walk the red carpet and nobody is scrambling to take your pictures; but you have passes because of Carla. Also, you could just buy your way in if you wanted you (and your friends have in the past). This year, Eren had to pay two security officers $10k in bribes because you two snuck away to fuck in… a part of the museum not sectioned off for the event. Whoopsies.

Even before Eren got him arrested, going out to brunch was kind of your and Armin’s thing. Eren insists he should be invited now that he’s your husband. He is not. (His bitterness grows when he learns that Jean has secured himself an invite somehow).

Eren sold the car he got arrested for drag racing in. He never told you why—and as far as transportation goes, it wasn’t a big deal because you guys have other cars—but, to him, it was a kind of symbol. He thinks it’s dumb if he thinks too long about it, but he just didn’t wanna have that there are a reminder of how he’d hurt you and his mom.

Jean still drives you to your therapy appointments, but now Eren picks you up. Eren also goes to therapy himself, and has been before you guys got married; his therapist says he’s undoubtedly happier in recent sessions… like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulder.

As far as drugs go, there’s, of course, weed on a happy occasion, or at a party; but he hasn’t touched coke since that one time (which was also the first time he’d ever done it). That’s not even him being a changed man, he just didn’t like it—he only argued with you about it because he was being stubborn. He’s more of a drinker than anything, and absolutely loves to get you drunk on a special occasion, too; he always has. He thinks you look cute, and he likes taking care of you.

You have lived in that apartment with Eren for years before marrying him, yet he insisted you needed to christen the place like it was brand new… at this point, the only places you haven’t fucked in are the elevator itself, the foyer, the storage closet, and the pool. The latter only because it’s been too cold in NYC… trust and believe pool sex is coming lmfao.

Eren bought the apartment and renovated and designed it, but he never did like being in it all alone, and that’s been magnified since you got married. If he’s there by himself, he’s usually in the living area, napping on the daybed. He waits for your faithfully every day, and is hardly in the bedroom if you’re not.

Eren has not stopped introducing you as his wife since January. Even to people in passing like cashiers and bartenders, everyone in the whole damn city probably knows you guys got hitched.

[mandoalorian]

Hey, can I request Javi Gutiérrez having a fight with the reader because they want to make their relationship public but Javi knows that he can’t because of the whole plot and blabkabla. But at the end Javi apologizes and have a fluffy/angst moment?

Together [Javi Gutiérrez x F!Reader]

Warnings: vague spoilers for The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent, allusions to sex, pregnancy mention, toxic family mention, drugs mention

Reblogs appreciated as this isn’t showing up in tags. 🧡

Javi was your world. He was your sun and your moon. And you were in love with him.

You and Javi had been together for a couple of years now, and you were living together in his secret jungle mansion. You had never met anyone like Javi. He was so pure of heart, and endearing in every sense of the word. He had his hobbies and interests and he was so passionate. You could listen to him babble on forever about his favourite films and the screenplay he’d been working so hard on.

You’d talked about marriage, sure. Javi was keen to start a family and have kids of his own one day, that much was clear. The conversation regarding yours and his ‘future’ was beginning to crop up more and more often nowadays, occasionally during after-sex pillow talk or occurring amidst movie night. It seemed like Javi wanted a small, private wedding. It’s not like he could make it a big deal, after all. He vaguely spoke about wanting three kids; a boy and two girls, but again, he seemed hesitant on the subject.

You knew that Javi loved you, even during the times you and him argued. It seemed like lately though, your arguments were about your future.

“You say you want to marry me, and yet I haven’t even met your mom. Lucas doesn’t even know about us. Nobody knows about us.” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest.

Javi’s gaze briefly flicked from the Nic Cage movie that was playing on the television, over to you, where you were sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, your lips curled into a frown.

“You know why that is.” Javi told you, his usual expressive voice now monotone and serious, like there was absolutely no room for questioning him.

You did know. You knew exactly what kind of dysfunctional, narcotic-selling family you had wormed your way into two years ago. To be fair, at least Javi had the decency to warn you.

You didn’t reply, instead looking down at your nails and picking at them nervously. Javi sighed and paused the movie before turning to face you.

“You know fine well what Lucas is like,” He sighed, running his fingers through his long brown curls. “If we were to elope, and start a family, I wouldn’t want him to be involved at all.”

“I feel like Lucas likes me.” you shrugged quietly.

“He does,” Javi coos, shuffling closer to you and adjusting the cashmere blanket that was resting over your lap. “But baby, if he finds out that we’re together. He’d have you killed. Maybe even kill me too.”

You were fighting back tears now. “I just want to be with you Javi. We shouldn’t have to worry about this.”

Javi nodded his head understandingly and took your hand, brushing comforting circles into your skin. “What if we marry in secret?” he proposed, but you weren’t having it.

“Everything is ‘in secret’. We’ve dated in secret for the past two years. Then what? We marry in secret and neither of us can wear our wedding bands? And what about when I fall pregnant, Javi? Do we have a secret baby? How the hell is all of this going to work?”

“I don’t know!” Javi snapped, pointing his finger. He was angry, sure. Not at you, but at the fact you were hurting like this and there was nothing he could do about it. His heart yearned to make you happy, and knowing that there was no way to do that pained him so much. You sniffed and rested your head on his shoulder. “We could run away.” he suggested quietly.

“The world thinks you’re a freakin’ king-pin, Javi. If we ran away, and Lucas didn’t catch us, then the cops certainly would. We’re prisoners if we stay and we’re prisoners if we leave.” you sighed.

“You think one day they’ll find out the truth about Lucas?” Javi swallowed thickly at the thought. “Because I’m not as bad as they make out.”

You laugh quietly and press a kiss into your boyfriend’s jaw. “I know you’re not, Javi. Your favourite movie is Paddington 2 and you eat Marshmallow Fluff straight out of the jar. I know you’re not as bad as they make out,” Javi smiled at your comment, the corners of his honey brown eyes crinkling with delight. “The day the world figures out the truth about Lucas will be the day we’re set free.”

Javi pulled the blanket over the both of you and grabbed the TV remote, playing the movie.

“But for now, you’ll stay with me, won’t you? I know it’s hard, but I love you, my dear.”

You kissed him again, this time your lips delicately brushing against his. “Of course I’ll stay with you Javi,” you promised. “We’ll get through this together.”

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 1 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @xoxo-callie @stardust-galaxies​ @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal  @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal l @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen  @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor @pedro-pastel @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia @beskarprincessjenny @readsalot73 @softmedics @jade10077 @dodgerandevans @planetariumx @pascals-cat @ajeff855 @spideysimpossiblegirl @smoldjarin

[infinitelysordinary]

loving you is a losing game chapter two!

a broken heart is all that’s left

AO3 Link | Tumblr Masterpost

words: 4005 words

cws: none!

Sometimes the crowd yields one you put a name to, snapping fiction into fact. Mostly your lover passes in the rain and does not know you when you speak.

— I Remember Me, Carol Ann Duffy

//

“Let’s all say our favourite memory of Jimmy,” says one of Jimmy’s supposed friends, wringing her hands together. She smiles nervously at the rest of the people in the room, two matching dimples revealing themselves, before she tucks a piece of dark brown hair behind her ear. Pointedly, she doesn’t make eye contact with Jimmy himself. “My name’s Spruce, and I met Jimmy when we were both fourteen….”

Jimmy tries to pay attention to her, or at least, he tries to! He promises! But it’s hard to focus when he’s too busy fiddling with one of his many rings. He keeps a smile to be polite, but her words fall on deaf ears as Jimmy’s fingers trail over the words carved on the inside: always yours.

The ring is cheap but sturdy, a band made out of three golden strands braided together. Despite its simple exterior, it is, undeniably, a wedding ring—the inscription says always yours, and, sure, Jimmy doesn’t have any of his memories, but he still has common sense. He’s wearing a wedding ring, and he doesn’t know why.

Just like everything else in Jimmy’s life, the ring is a mystery.

Two weeks ago, Jimmy woke up in his bed with no memory at all, with only a ring on his finger and an aching throat. He knew basic survival techniques—how to craft weapons, how to talk, the alphabet—but everything else, including his own goshdarn name, was foreign to him. Slowly, a handful of his so-called friends and his royal advisor, Evadne, explained his life.

This is, in order of importance, what they told him:

His name is Jimmy Solidarity.

He is, approximately, four centuries old.

He’s the emperor of the Cod Empire. (“It’s more of a figurehead role than anything else,” said Spruce. “You don’t really do anything.” Evadne had told her to stop talking after that.)

He’s … half of a fish. (Maybe three quarters a fish? He, actually, isn’t quite sure about that one yet. He has a tail and gills, and he can’t walk or swim properly.)

Evadne’s been in control of most of his life for now. She teaches him about the other emperors and good manners, and what it entails to be an emperor. She’s even set up this meeting for him with his closest friends, in order to ‘jog his memory.’

Even so, she never told him that he was married. Jimmy only found that out afterwards, when he took his ring off and read the inscription. Even after, when he asked Spruce, Evadne, and Corey about his marital status, they told him that he was single.

(“As far as we know,” chuckled Corey. This time, it was Spruce who told zir to stop talking.)

So, Jimmy figures that he’s either widowed sometime before his friends were born, or he eloped. Both aren’t good outcomes, considering the fact that Jimmy doesn’t know where he’d begin looking for his (dead?) partner. Not for the first time, he curses the fact that he was too stupid to write something more personal on the inside of his ring, like a wedding date, or initials.

Stupid, stupid Jimmy, he thinks, a scowl twisting onto his face.

(̴̛̼̍̈́̄“̴̺̲̽̍̈͑̐̽̽͌̓J̸̛̣̭̱͔̝̦̩̟̱̹̉̒̄̈͛͘ǐ̶̭̞͎̝̜͔͇͈m̷̘̼͚̰̄̅͊͗̋͂͛̓̋̎m̸̱͉̗̭̄̐̽̅́̈́̂͘ỹ̶͕̟̩̟͎̟̫̯̾͜,̴̢̡̡̩̩̩̰̠̱̆͊̅̕͜ ̷͓̹̭̥͚̗̣̰̉̀́y̴̗̭̱̙͖̣̼̭͔̅͗̈́ŏ̴̠͓͗͠u̸̙̖̲̲̺̙̮͆̈͐͋́̒͜ͅ’̵̡̗̓̈́̃r̶̨̰͉͍̟̙̅̀̓̆͗̀e̶̢̡̺̓̑̑͗̀̽ ̷̪͚͎͕͉̰͕̳̽̇́͊͘s̷̟̼͙̀͜ỡ̸̧͉͔̥̀̾̕ ̴̠̲͕͕̹̈̇̊͝͝d̴̖̿͊͐̈̂̂͛̈́͘͝u̶̧͒̾̎̓ṃ̶̨̗̙̗̣̻̭̠̃͂̄̉̎̚̚̚b̴͖̙̥̫̲̞͙̱̳̝͛̊̋—̸̫̭̤̑͒̑̇́̌̍̓̈́”̸̱̪̉̇)̴̧̧̻͍͖͉̠̤̈̓̒̉̎́̿

So, unless Jimmy’s memory suddenly returns, he’s left waiting. Waiting for a partner that might be centuries gone at this point, that nobody close to him has any awareness of. Always yours says the ring, but it doesn’t say hi, my name is Nicholas Anders, I lived thirty minutes by horse to the North, and I died on the fourteenth of January thirty two—

Somebody coughs. Jimmy starts—he looks up, tilting his head to the side, before he realises what’s going on. Oh. Spruce is finished with her story.

A moment passes, as she looks at him expectantly, her eyes shiny with tears. All that he does is nod back, plastering a smile onto his face. “Gosh, sorry,” says Jimmy with a half-hearted chuckle. “I wasn’t paying attention. Could you repeat that?”

Spruce wilts, her shoulders hunching in. The other four in the room—two human, one axolotl hybrid, and one mermaid—exchange glances. “No,” mutters Spruce, staring down into her lap. “No, it’s fine.” She waits for a few seconds, as she stares down at the table, if rearranging her face, before she looks up with an overly blithe smile. “You know what? Corey—why don’t you go? Tell Jimmy your favourite memory with him, and all that.”

Corey, the axolotl hybrid, slowly nods. “Yes, I-I can do that.” Ze inclines their head towards Jimmy, a large grin on his face. “It’s nice to meet you—well, re-meet you, I guess. I’m Corey, like Spruce said. I’m the oldest, and I’m roughly two and a half centuries old.”

Jimmy puts his ring back on, resolving not to touch it. He should start paying attention to all these stories.

In a deadpan voice, Corey continues, “We’re practically brothers at this point, and you absolutely adore me and follow me everywhere. You make my bed, cook my food, and do my chores—”

“Really?” asks Jimmy.

“Absolutely.”

“Corey,” warns Drizz, the mermaid.

Corey snorts, breaking his façade. “Yeah, no, I’m messing with you. But we’re friends, really; we have been ‘round a century. We’re almost brothers. Do you remember when we met?” Ze waits a second too long for an answer, before he chuckles. “No, of course you don’t. We met in a cave, back when we had to mine to survive, and—”

At the mention of a cave, an image begins to form in Jimmy’s mind. In the thought, he’s in a cave, a stone pickaxe in hand. He has blisters at the bottom of his feet and the air is sickly sweet. Someone behind him calls his name, and Jimmy turns around, and he can’t quite make out a face, but it’s someone, introducing themselves. Someone who he knows and loves now, and whose name escapes him when he tries to think too hard. The thought is too vivid to be anything but a memory.

And, well, that person has to be Corey. Right? After all, if Corey tells Jimmy that they met in a cave, and then Jimmy has a memory of meeting someone in a cave, then that person must be Corey.

“I … remember,” says Jimmy, almost wondrously, leaning forwards. “Oh my gosh, Corey, I remember!” He laughs wildly. “I remember meeting you.”

Corey’s eyes widen. “Wait—you do? What am I talking about? Of course you do! I’m just so memorable—”

“I was mining coal, right?”

Corey lets out a delighted chuckle. “You were!”

“And you called my name—”

“If I remember correctly, I said ‘Prince Solidarity! It’s nice to see you over here on this side of the ocean.’”

Jimmy pauses for a second, before he nods. It feels wrong, but it must be right if Corey’s telling him so. He absent-mindedly turns his wedding ring around, nervously grinning. “Yeah. And—and—”

“After that, we went caving together.”

Jimmy knows that! “Yeah!”

“We went back up with a staircase, and our arms hurt so much but it was worth it for what we uncovered. We found so many diamonds that day—we were rich!”

A beat passes; Jimmy frowns. “No, we didn’t. We came out with iron armour.”

“No, we had iron armour beforehand—we went mining to get some diamonds.”

“We definitely didn’t. I’m—I’m sure of it, Corey.”

Corey pauses, a flicker of doubt in zir eyes. “No, that can’t be right. I was a century and a half, then, which means I already had iron. The recession just hit, which is why I was mining for diamond armour instead of trading for it.”

“Are you … sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

Every part of Jimmy’s body knows that that’s not true; his memory is right. But he can’t stand the worried looks the others are giving him. He needs this to be over—he needs to be normal for once in his life. “I must be remembering wrong,” he says, but a part of him inside wilts.

What if that person wasn’t Corey? Who was it, then?

Jimmy sighs, leaning back and sinking further into the couch. He takes off his wedding ring again, tracing the inscription with his pointer finger, and forces himself to listen to the rest of the stories. If he pays enough attention, he’ll remember something else. He’s sure of it.

All that he has to do is listen.

//

“How was the get-together?” asks Evadne, later that night. One by one, all of Jimmy’s friends had to leave and go back to work. He hung around the pub for a few hours, before he decided to go back to his castle. Now, he’s eating dinner with Evadne in a private alcove in the basement, away from all the prying eyes. Nobody’s been told about Jimmy’s affliction, and Evadne seems determined to keep it that way.

“It was … alright,” decides Jimmy. “Fine. Not anything special, but it’s not anything bad either.”

“Did you remember anything?” Evadne says, unwrapping her steamed cod from the leaves. “Anything at all?”

Jimmy wavers for a moment, before he gives in. Evadne is helping him—he should be telling her stuff. She’s the only one he has right now. “I … well, I remembered one thing.”

Evadne waits, eyeing him curiously.

“Well—I remember meeting someone in a cave. No details or anything important. I just met someone in a cave, and we went caving together, and—and we got iron armour together. It was early game type stuff.”

She raises an eyebrow. “‘Early game?’”

“Yeah. Early game—you know, punching for wood, mining stone, iron armour. That kind of stuff”

“Huh.”

“What’s wrong?”

Evadne shrugs, chewing through a mouthful of sticky rice and cod. “Nothing. I don’t think someone’s called gathering resources ‘early game’ in eons. Nobody needs to suffer through that anymore.”

Jimmy pauses at the word ‘suffer.’ That doesn’t sit right with him—he loves the early game! He likes it when he’s fumbling and searching for ores in caves, fighting mobs and laughing with friends as he builds ugly houses that get turned cute when he looks away. It isn’t right when Evadne calls it suffering, or when Corey said that the only reason he went mining was because of the recession. Survival’s half the fun of life, really! He’s bad at living, but there’s something golden about the early game that only someone smarter than him could put into words.

Before he can respond, though, a loud ring rips through the air. He winces at the shrill noise, wiping his hands on a rag nearby, before he pulls out the communicator in his pocket. When fWhip gave him the replacement communicator—he lost his when he lost his memory—Jimmy had forgotten to change the default text noise.

<LDShadowLady> hey, Jimmy, are you good?

<LDShadowLady> I haven’t talked to you in a while

<LDShadowLady> do you want to get lunch soon, for old times’ sake?

Jimmy frowns, his fingers hesitating in front of the keyboard. Who is this person? Why were they able to contact him? He’s been told that only those who he’s close to and accepted can text him, and he can’t remember this person. “Evadne, who’s LDShadowLady? I just got a text from them.”

Evadne starts, looking up from her meal with a carefully neutral face. “LDShadowLady? Well, sir, I believe that’s the Ocean Queen. Her name’s Lizzie.”

“Were we … close?”

She pauses, mulling it over for a minute. “You were acquaintances. You have an ally ship with her kingdom.”

That can’t be right, not with the casualness Lizzie texted him with, but he pushes it aside. If Evadne is lying to him, he’s sure there’s a valid reason. He hesitates for a moment, fidgeting with the cover of his communicator, before he responds.

<SolidarityGaming> I’m kind of busy rihgt now so I don’t know if that’s the best idea

(̴̢͖̰͔̯̝͎̫͌͆̽̍̋́̏̀̚ͅJ̷͉̦͆̅̋̂͂̓̓́̚ì̸͖̣̞̝̠̩̼͓m̷̢̛̫͇͖̙̕m̷̛̰͓͇͕̪̠̟͆̑́̀̍̈́̍͜y̸͙̝͋́̎̒̀̚ ̴̙̺̱̭͈͖̺͇̜̉̓̓̅̒̿̆́͆ͅc̶̳̳̑̊̅̚͘ͅą̴̞̥͔̪̯̜̳̓n̸͇̄̋͐̒́̽̅̽̕͠'̸̛͇͈̋̓̉̊̓̕t̷̰̰̟͚̤̤͍͙̓̌͂͗̕ ̶̯̝̪̙̖̰̥̣̉s̵̯̫͙̮̝̞̺̽́̋̈͌͘p̸̬̮̉͝e̷̮̖͇̥̠̟̳̮̔̏̈̈͆̆̃͜͝l̶̛̤̪͍̦̜̞̫̓l̶̹̋͗̈́̄̈́̅̊̎̔̚,̴͙̐ͅ ̵̣͒ḓ̶̤̯͈̩̭͖́̓̀͛̀̒̃̓o̵̮͖̪͛̚n̴̢̬̬̦̗̪̰͔̦̿̂̀͆̀́̀͊̚'̸̼̜̹̩͔̫̀͗̍́ͅt̸̰̮͕̬̭̄̈́̒͝ ̶̧͇͓͉̦͔͙͐̓͋͛̃̕͜w̵̚��̟̮̳̲ö̸̝̼̫r̶̺͔̈́̔̿̂̒̉̕͘ŗ̷̗̝̫͎̤̰̯̗͎̑͠y̷̺̯̟͎͍̖͗̑̿̆̿̚͠.̷͉̱́͗͂̒̉̽)̸̨͕̥̰͖̝̺̘̼̃̆́̅́̎̽̀̎͜͝

<SolidarityGaming> *right

<SolidarityGaming> sorry I can’t spell

Jimmy puts the communicator away, faking a smile. “Pass me the pitcher, will you?”

Evadne nods and passes it over, before she finishes chewing another bite. “Let’s continue our lesson from this morning. So, King Scott Smajor is the emperor of Rivendell….”

//

In the two weeks Jimmy has been here, he’s developed a habit of walking late at night, wandering his way across the Cod Empire until he finds his way back to his room. He started these nightly walks due to paranoia—after all, who was going to secure the perimeters?—but even after the guards told him to rest, he continued.

He wanders across the walls first. Fear is hard habit to shake off, after all. But after he watches the perimeter, he walks his way through the Empire, learning every nook and cranny. He hasn’t built up the courage to walk into the residential area, but he has a mental map of most of the official buildings, bar the church.

So far, his favourite building is the ally ship building. It’s a circular room, supports fashioned out of spruce wood and floor made out of glass. Most people aren’t allowed in there, but Jimmy isn’t ‘most people.’

He slips inside as the clock strikes midnight, before he sighs, shutting and locking the door behind him. Every day here is more confusing, an endless battle against himself and his so-called loved ones. He doesn’t know what he’s doing or why he’s doing it, and people keep telling him about his relationships and his personality and his memories, but none of them feel … right. The communicator’s too loud, Evadne’s too secretive, and the tail’s too tail-y. 

The only thing that feels right—that feels like home—is his wedding ring. But with no new memories and no new leads, he’s left here. In an empire that he’s in charge of but doesn’t feel like home, in a body that feels too large and muscle-y, and in a room where the only reason he feels comfortable is because he’s alone.

Jimmy sighs, shaking his head, before he idly turns his attention to the floor. It’s beautiful. Layers upon layers of blue fill the ground, schools of colourful fish floating past. It’s vivid, a mosaic of the lives of the fish and where they live. Jimmy wonders if he can talk to them—after all, his tail and gills must be good for something.

A pufferfish catches his eye, the yellow almost glowing in the darkness. As he looks at the pufferfish, a memory slowly comes to light. At first, it’s just a feeling—a bone-deep ache for someone else and a named fish in his hands—but the more that he focuses, the more that he remembers. It was a gift, he thinks. A gift given to him and his lover, and he took that gift and added … a letter? No, wait, it wasn’t a letter. Jimmy added a leather name tag with the pufferfish, and turned the gift into a momento of his … friendship? Ally ship? And he wrote on the name tag puffer—

His head swirls. Gosh—he needs to sit down. He feels like he got hit over the head with a brick.

Instead of making his way to the table, he sits down right on the floor, slightly on his side because of his tail. His stomach drops as he looks at the ground and the floor. No matter how nervous he gets, though, he can’t look away. All at once, the memory comes back at him.

Jimmy stands in a flower valley, mountain surrounding on each side. It’s not anywhere he recognises—not in the Cod Empire, at least. He’s right in front of someone, all the details fuzzy. His body feels lighter, more like him than his own body. “Do we want to name it?” His words come out forced, like someone’s pushing the words out of him.

“Pufferfish of peace,” responds the man in front of him, a light, unfamiliar accent with his words. His hair’s a bright, almost obnoxious shade of cyan, and he’s almost the same height as Jimmy, but that’s all that Jimmy can make out through the fuzz. Even though he can’t see the man, though, Jimmy feels a rush of affection at the sound of his voice, his heart fluttering. 

He’s sure of it: this is his lover, his husband, the one that gave him the ring on his finger. He’s the key to Jimmy’s memory problems, somehow.

Always yours, Jimmy thinks, but he says, “Pufferfish of peace! That’s incredible. Let me—let me go rename it.”

The memory skips, like a scratch in a record, before Jimmy finds himself in an enchanting room. It’s scuffed, but it feels more like home than anything else has so far. “Where should I put it?” he asks. He looks down at his hands, and sees a leather name tag on one hand and the pufferfish in the other. In neat, block letters, the name tag reads PUFFERISH OF PEACE.

His husband takes an item frame out of his inventory, putting it up on the cobblestone wall. “Put it over here.”

Jimmy does as asked, and then stands next to his husband, shoulder to shoulder. He feels a smile take over his face. “There it is.”

Together, with a sense of wonder, they both say, “The pufferfish of peace.”

Jimmy smiles, burying his head in his husband’s shoulder. The man slips an arm around Jimmy, his hand rubbing affectionate circles into Jimmy’s neck, an occasional cold brush of metal accompanying the soothing movements. Again, Jimmy feels the overwhelming rush of love towards this man, even though he can’t remember his name or his face.

“Jimmy,” says the man, a laugh in his voice. “You spelt it wrong.”

Jimmy pauses, tilting his head to look at the item frame. “I did?”

“You wrote Pufferish instead of Pufferfish.” He snickers, and Jimmy groans, but the movements feel detached from his body. The words are distant, like he’s shoved his head underwater, but Jimmy tries his hardest to concentrate and stay in this memory.

“Scott….” Jimmy hears one more word, but the next words are unintelligible to him, although the indignant tone comes across. The conversation slips from his mind, as well as their surroundings and the feeling of his head on his lover—no, Scott’s—shoulder. It all fades away, and Jimmy is left staring at the sea through the glass floor, his tail digging uncomfortably into his side.

Compulsively, Jimmy twists his wedding ring around his finger. So, his husband’s name is Scott, and they lived in a flower forest before Jimmy came here. They must’ve been married long before Jimmy became emperor, and before he met Corey (Jimmy can’t imagine leaving Scott voluntarily). So, like he thought earlier, Scott must’ve died, or….

Wait. He’s heard the name Scott before—he’s heard it recently, in fact. He rewinds his memory back to earlier that evening, when Evadne was talking about the twelve rulers of the empires. King Scott Smajor of Rivendell is an elf with blue hair, one of the few rulers who inherited his throne.

In the two weeks he’s been here, though, Jimmy’s never talked to the man. If Jimmy is married to Scott, then Jimmy would assume that they’d talk more often and that his friends would know. So they’re … divorced? It makes sense, considering the fact that elves are technically immortal. They could’ve gotten married, been in love, and had a divorce centuries before Jimmy met over any of his friends.

Must’ve been one heck of a divorce if nobody knows we were married in the first place, Jimmy thinks. Aren’t there records for that kind of stuff? He’d imagine that would be news for the entire world, and a controversy that someone would inform him of.

So, Scott and Jimmy were in love. They were married (unofficially?) and had rings. And then they divorced, and moved on to rule two different kingdoms, and, somehow, that wasn’t a scandal?

This makes no sense to Jimmy. None of it does. He’s still in love with Scott, he’s sure of it, so why did he let go of that feeling of love and adoration? Why did he walk away and never tell anyone about it? Where was he in that memory? Why isn’t there a controversy over the divorce between the Elven king and the Cod king?

Jimmy stands up, the decision already made. Scott will have some answers, he’s sure of it. Yes, thinks Jimmy twenty minutes later, as he starts carving out an uppercase P onto a leather tag. This will work. It has to.

//

Jimmy flies to Rivendell. He isn’t sure if that’s the ‘correct’ way to visit another empire—should he send a message?—but he can’t quite care at this point. After all, visiting your ex husband has no etiquette rules.

As he flies higher and higher in the sky, his memory gets sharper. Flashes of a lake and a banner, of early-morning kisses and domestic bantering fly through his head, but his headache only gets worse. He stumbles a landing on the sidewalk right outside of what he presumes to be Rivendell’s castle, and laughs it off when a guard asks him if he’s alright.

“I’m fine,” says Jimmy. He is not fine. “I’m on official business—could you fetch King Smajor for me?”

The guard only waits a moment before they nod, leading Jimmy up to the front door. They tell him to wait there, and Jimmy waits patiently, twisting the ring around his finger.

Always yours. Always yours. Always yours—

“Jimmy?” says Scott, and Jimmy’s heart soars.

Something in his heart settles at the sight of Scott again, even though everything is different now. In his memories, Scott was slightly shorter than him and his hair was a blinding shade of cyan. Now, Scott’s taller by a good five inches, his hair faded to an ice-cold blue. He also has large wings on his back, white and fluffy. Scott’s wearing official clothing, trimmed with white fur, and looks more dignified than Jimmy’s ever felt.

“Hi, Scott,” Jimmy says finally, after what feels like hours of staring, of cataloguing every difference between then and now. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Codfather,” replies Scott, his voice devoid of emotion. “What are you doing here?”

Jimmy tilts his head. “Can I come inside?”

“You’re not wearing your head,” mutters Scott, before his eyes dart upwards to meet with Jimmy’s. Jimmy’s face twists, a portrait of confusion. I usually wear a … head? Doesn’t he have one already? Why isn’t his own head good enough? “What’s wrong?”

Jimmy blinks. “What are you talking about?”

With just five words, Scott’s entire face drops. He stares at him for one second too long, before he stops and nods decisively. “I’m calling your sister.”

His … sister? Jimmy has a sister? Who is she, and why has Evande never told him about her? “What?” he says, instead of ‘I have a sister? Why did nobody tell me about that?’ “No, don’t bother her.”

“She cares about you. It’s not bothering if she cares.”

“No, you don’t understand, Scott,” says Jimmy quickly, trying to appease to him. “I came here for you. Could you let me in?”

Something that Jimmy can’t identify passes over Scott’s face. Jimmy can hear his heart in his ears as Scott raises his left hand and fusses with his hair, his ring finger bare. Will he refuse him? Will he tell him to leave and never come back? Has Jimmy ruined everything, again?

Then, Scott smiles, politely. “Okay,” he says. He moves aside in the doorway, tucking his wings in around him. “You can come in.”

[cloudy-leonhart]

can i request filipino s/o hcs for yelena, onyakopon and niccolo pls😩💞

You got it! I hope I do good! 💖

———

Yelena, Onyankopon, and Niccolo with a Pinoy S/O!!

theme: fluff, modern au.

TW: Swearing, Season 4 spoilers.

Niccolo

He was on a trip by himself, he was traveling the world to widen his taste and experiment on different dishes.

You were the kid of a famous filipino chef, basically Niccolo came to your family’s restaurant with an intent of learning from your parents and ended walking out with an internship and a date.

He lived with you and your family for his duration of his internship, in his whole stay, he collected eggs in your parents’ coop, he cooked various filipino dishes, desserts and more.

He fed them all to you btw, he was a god at cooking and his tapsilog was bomb.

you would buy a bunch of ingredients you think would go well with dishes when you were overseas with Niccolo.

You both decided in living in the Philippines, you guys were just barely there and it ended up being a vacation home.

He inherited your family’s restaurant, in which you guys barely could travel. Everyone called him Kuya Nico.

He loves cooking Kare-Kare and his costumers always demand it, it’s basically his best selling dish.

He struggled with speaking with customers sometimes, but you helped him with some language lessons.

He wore a Barong for your guys’ wedding. He looked handsome.

Guess who likes to dance to Moira Dela Torre and Yeng Constantino with you? Yes, Niccolo loves dancing with you.

Onyankopon

It was kinda funny how you met, you were on a hike with your friends and you slipped and basically tumbled into Onyankopon. 

You struggled with English and could only form broken sentences, but he didn’t care, he even went as far as learning how to speak filipino instead so you wouldn’t have to struggle with having to find the words to explain.

He was kinda nervous to meet your family, he knew he had an accent when speaking filipino so he didn’t think your family would understand him well.

Your mom and dad adored him! They welcomed him with open hearts and open arms, his routines consist of helping your dad with feeding the chickens, like Reiner, he too, is a chicken dad. He had the honour of taking care of your dad’s chicken’s baby chicks.

Visits to your home in the PH is very frequent, because Onyankopon wants to make sure his chickens are a-okay.

he likes to go to busy streets and try street vendor food, he likes the banancue stand so far, he never knew a friend banana with burnt sugar would taste so good.

he’s a movie watcher and a listener, he probably listens to both modern artists like Ex Battalion, and old artists like Eraserheads.

His guilty pleasure is watching filipino romance movies, his secret favourite movie is Imagine You and Me.

Yes he ships Maine Mendoza and Alden Richards.

He also looks handsome in a Barong, he rocks it so well.

Yelena

Damn, when you saw her, you were afraid, SHE WAS TALLER THAN YOUR BROTHERS OMG-

she had to literally bend and then look down at you?? Genuinely, not bending down could even help her talk to you.

She basically met you during a vacation at a resort, she saw you coming in with your family, and saw you dropped your sunglasses and gave them back to you.

Yes, your family was shocked at how tall Yelena was, the basketball player jokes were never-ending.

She came home with you and your family and hits her head by the door-frame all the time in your home.

She loves hiking with you, any mountain you guys climb that shit. Mainly because she likes seeing you sweaty and panting- if you know what I mean yk-

no bc Yelena looks hot taking care of your family carabaos.

She doesn’t really wear any girlish clothes, so she wears a sando and like a pair of sweats probably.

She helps around with the farm, your dad taught her to pick crops, your mother taught her to cook food, her sinigang is bomb, like deadass idk how she does it.

Her favourite filipino food is probably Bulalo, that shit be bussin tbh.

her favourite dessert, if she had to pick?? Ube ice cream, or Halo-Halo. Nobody can resist halo-halo, it’s too good.

favourite songs? Uh, I can see her listening to a bunch of filipino rock bands, she doesn’t bother learning the band names, she just places it in her playlist and goes on with her day.

[sfb123]

The Confrontation - A Final Goodbye One Shot

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Description: In a slight canon divergence from book 2, Riley reaches her breaking point with the engagement tour and decides to restart her life when the court gets to NYC. Can the rest of the group clear her name, and convince her to come back before it’s too late?

The Final Goodbye Masterlist

Rating: PG-13 (Discussion of adult situations and some adult language)

Word Count: 924

A/N: I know, a one shot of a mini-series, I’m a psycho. Sorry guys. After last week’s chapter, I had a lot of people saying they wanted to see Liam confront Madeleine about making Riley pick up the wedding ring, so I decided to write it. It’s a quick one, and it takes place during the events of chapter 2, after Madeleine and Liam get into the elevator.

All the love and thank yous to my fandom soulmate, @jessiembruno​​ for reading this and helping me get Liam just the right amount of angry.

Tags: Listed below. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

Liam and Madeleine walked down the hall arm in arm. As they reached the bay of elevators, one of the doors opened to reveal Maxwell. He paused when he exited, meeting Liam’s eyes as they exchanged sad looks. Maxwell continued on his way, and Liam and Madeleine entered the newly vacant elevator car. As soon as the doors closed, Liam distanced himself from Madeleine and selected the button to take them to the lobby. 

“You know Liam, if you plan to continue this arrangement after the wedding, we are really going to need to come up with some ground rules, possibly a schedule.” Madeleine snickered breaking the silence. Liam’s jaw immediately tensed. 

His body moved before his brain could process what was happening, his hand went back to the buttons on the wall, slamming his finger on the bright red button labeled ‘STOP’. His hand quickly formed into a fist and fell to his side as he turned to face Madeleine. “Enough.” 

The sound of his booming voice in the small space startled Madeleine, who had been keeping her focus forward. She tried to keep her composure, smoothing her hands over the front of her dress before turning to address the king. “Liam, we’re going to be la...”

“Did you send Riley to pick up your wedding band yesterday?” Liam cut her off. He knew the answer, he just needed to hear her admit it.

“Yes, if she is going to remain at court, she needs to earn her keep, people need to see her value. She can’t just be your on-call plaything.” 

“Her value is exponentially more than yours, and everyone in this damn court sees it.”

“If they see it, Liam, then why isn’t she the one on your arm, wearing your ring?” She paused, pretending to think of an answer she already had prepared. “Oh, that’s right, because her value plummeted the second those pictures were released.” She smirked at him, waiting for his response. 

“Her value?” He scoffed. “Have you forgotten that this is your second engagement? Your second attempt at being queen? You can’t honestly believe that nobody is talking about how you were jilted by one crown prince and moved on to the other.”

“I’ve been preparing my whole life to become the queen. I will be remembered for the work I do to serve my country, not how many times I was engaged. Riley will always be known as common trash that tried to sleep her way through court to make something of herself.”

He opened his mouth, about to respond, but he stopped himself. Yes, they were close to clearing her name, which would make Madeleine’s argument null and void. But he couldn’t use that as a defense. He had to continue to keep the investigation to himself, everyone had worked too hard to start showing his hand now. 

Madeleine continued to stare at him with an arched eyebrow, waiting for his response. He took a deep breath, calming himself before he said something he would regret. “Madeleine, a good ruler does not let personal feelings and vendettas get in the way of their decisions. They are unbiased and fair to everyone. As someone who openly brags about preparing their whole life to be queen, I would think you’d understand this concept.”

She flinched slightly at the passive aggressive dig, hoping he didn’t notice. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to her. “And a good member of the court does not let their personal feelings get in the way of the orders given to them by those above their station.” She folded her arms across her chest and stood a bit taller to show Liam he could not intimidate her. “Don’t forget, queen or not, I will always be above her. She will always have to yield to me.” Madeleine brushed past Liam, moving to the panel on the wall and restarting the carts decent to the lobby. She returned to her original spot and faced forward, Liam stood in silence, fuming at her words. 

When the doors opened, Madeleine stepped forward to exit, but Liam grabbed her arm, pulling her close. When she felt his hand on her, she looked back, shocked by the unmistakable look of rage on the king’s face. He leaned in close to her, speaking soft enough for only her to hear, anger clear in his tone. “And don’t you forget that I am the king by blood, so I will always be above you, and you will always have to yield to me. Make no mistake I could end this, end you at any time. Come for Riley again, and I will take it as a personal attack. A good ruler may not let personal feelings and vendettas get in the way of their decisions, but a man in love has no control over his actions when he is defending the woman that holds his heart. Understood?” Madeleine recoiled at the intensity of Liam’s stare, unable to maintain eye contact. Liam spoke his next words very slowly and deliberately, “Do I make myself clear, Countess?”

Madeleine nodded slowly, still not making eye contact with him. Liam was not satisfied with her response. “Is that how a subject addresses their king?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Liam nodded, accepting his response. He took a deep breath and scrubbed his hand across his face. As his arm lowered to his side, his stoic expression returned as if nothing had happened. He offered Madeleine his arm. “Shall we, darling.”

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia​ @athena-penrose​ @chemist-ana​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @choiceskatie​ @cordonia-gothqueen​ @cordoniaqueensworld​ @emkay512​ @gabesmommie1130​ @gkittylove99​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @jessiembruno​ @kat-tia801​ @khoicesbyk​ @kingliam2019​ @lucy-268​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @mile9213​ @mom2000aggie​ @pixie88​ @queenrileyrose​ @secretaryunpaid​ @sweatyrysconnoisseur​ @tessa-liam​ @theroyalheirshadowhunter​ @twinkleallnight​ @txemrn​

One Shots:

@bebepac​ @darley1101​

The Final Goodbye:

@ao719​ @burnsoslow​ @busywoman​ @itsjustwinter​ @ladyangel70​ @mainstreetreader​ @shanzay44​

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612​

Liam:

@amandablink​

[erodasfishtacos]

HSLOT SAINT LOUIS

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by harry styles updates ♡ (@harryflorals)

warnings: smut, 18+

-

Harry was doing his same script, he’s been starting every show but addressing the circular stage.

“Sometimes you’ll get m’face and sometimes you’ll get m’ass. Please, let me know if y’have a preference,” He gives the crowd a cocky grin, it widens when the audience goes insane with whistles and screams.

YN is standing off to the side, where she always stands with Harry’s friends and family who come and go - visiting them.

Harry’s eyes dart to his wife, when he sees her rolls her eyes at him, he points at her, speaking right into the microphone, “And you’ll be gettin’ the ass baby!”

The arena is near deafening with the fans who are fawning and cooing at the couples interactions, they all look back to YN.

She blows him a kiss and he dramatically snatches, smacking it right on his backside with a cheeky wink and purse of his lips.

He goes on with the show in his stunning red outfit that fit for Saint Louis perfectly - YN was matching him in a dark satin orange slinky dress that was undeniably sexy. It had Harry feeling her up backstage before he went on. ***

The fans loved that the couple matched at every concert.

YN loved watching her husband perform and after that comment about her getting his ass…well, it gave her some ideas for later.

The way the shirt he was wearing wasn’t buttoned enough so she could see the glisten on his chest, how the trousers hugged his perky backside like a sin.

It may be wrong, but everybody in this arena wanted him.

They want to hug him, kiss him, blow him, fuck him - but the only one who got that was her and she basked in it.

As Harry finishes with Kiwi, losing his absolute shit, YN and everyone else starts to head backstage. YN waves to a few fans and stops for a selfie or two before disappearing.

When Harry runs back to join, after dashing from center stage, he automatically finds his wife and wraps her up into a tight hug.

“Ew, bun. You’re extra sweaty, you definitely need to go shower,” YN crinkles her nose, pushing him off as he does stink a bit and is just sticky from sweat.

Usually, Harry would coerce his wife into joining him but they had quite a few friends who came to see the concert and YN was expected to entertain them.

“I’ll be thinkin’ about you, flower,” He teases, nipping her ear before chatting with their friends for a moment before he’s trailing off to shower and change.

-

YN waits a few minutes, enough time to guarantee he was already in the shower - soaping up.

She punches in the code to his locked dressing room, a soft smirk on her face as she steps over where he’s strewn the orange ensemble to purposefully piss off Harry Lambert - like always.

When she opens the bathroom door, she makes sure to be as quiet as possible - same as when she shuts and locks it behind her.

It a modern, standard shower stall and Harry is standing facing away from his wife - scrubbing his hair roughly to get the styling gel and grime out.

Harry’s shoulders are so broad.

His back is just…beautiful.

It’s so muscular, defined, and strong as he flexes his arms forward. Then her eyes trail down to his backside.

His bum was small, she loved to tease him and pinch it but it was muscular as well from those squats and wall sits he does in the gym.

After she quickly undresses, she steps in behind him into shower - pressing her chest up against his wet back and wrapping her arms around his waist.

Harry startles, nearly jumping out of his own skin before huffing out a laugh and leaning back into his wife, relaxing - well more like melting as he puts his weight on her.

“Thought y’were some crazy fan,” He jokes, hand coming down to cup the hers on his waist but frowning when she pulls back.

“Against the wall,” YN murmurs firmly, pushing him gently until his chest is against the tile and the shower head is pounding on his back and shoulders.

Harry shuffles forward, willingly albeit confused about what was going on and his wife’s demeanor as the cold of the wall hardens his nipples.

“Baby? Y’alright-“

“Did you wash yourself up already?” YN asks directly, hands rubbing softly at his sides, squeezing where his mini love handles are.

“M’body? Yeah, why-“

She cuts him off again, lips on his shoulder blade, “You told the crowd and me that I was getting your ass. I’m just holding you to your word.”

And when Harry realizes what’s about to go down, he lets out a low, explicit moan that echos throughout the bathroom.

“Yeah, baby, yeah,” He babbles excitedly, it wasn’t like this was something rare for them. They normally incorporated ass play into their sex life.

It was something about catching him off guard, when he’s vulnerable, and the post-show adrenaline has already worn off - making him malleable and pliant for his wife.

“You want to be all cocky, arrogant on stage, right? But look at you now, whining for your wife to touch you,” YN teases sharply, hand drifting down to squeeze his cheek hard enough to make him squeak.

“Baby. I’m yours, I’m yours,” He gasps, voice turning into a raspy yet high begging tone.

It was a tone of his voice that nobody in that crowd had or would ever hear. No, it was saved for her when she had him like this, like nobody else ever will.

“You don’t think I know that, Harry?” His wife laughs, fingers moving to sneak between his cheeks, pressing tightly against where he’s aching for her.

She continues, “God, I think everyone knows your mine. You can’t keep your eyes off me during the concert, parade around your wedding band, make sure my tattoo is always visible.”

“It’s ‘cause you- oh fuck, s’cause y’my soulmate,” Harry moans, pushing back on her fingers - wanting more but she wasn’t willing, “Need more, darlin’, m’close.”

She really wasn’t even doing much beside pressing at him, pushing in just the tiniest amount but he was grinding his hips against the wall a bit and her tits felt so good on his back.

Sometimes when he came off stage, he had absolutely no stamina.

Normally he could last but when he was adrenaline high and had basically edge himself in front of tens of thousands of people, it wasn’t going to be a long event.

“That’s really sad, H. Reminding me of when we were teenagers and you couldn’t last,” YN ends her rude statement with a bite to his shoulder before dragging her teeth down a bit.

It was just fun to get Harry worked up, he still acted the same from when they were younger - he’d get bratty and demanding, whiney, his chest and neck bloom into a soft pink color, and his eyes are a bit wet.

“Still just as much of a fool f’you, tha’s why,” Harry puffs out, hands continuously clenching and releasing over and over against the wall - like he wants to just make Harry wife touch him, tortured by her teasing.

“Fine, fine,” YN simpers, as if he was being a pain but she slips down onto her knees - hands dragging down his back and then his lean, solid thighs.

But in typical Harry behavior, he turns back and looks over his shoulder, “Sunflower, y’knees? We can move out of the shower.”

“Shush up,” She accentuates her words with a heavy handed smack to his right cheek and she chuckles when he gasps out a quiet, “Fuck.”

YN cups his cheeks, spreading them and leaning forward.

As soon as her tongue hits where he’s hot and tight, his legs twitch, and he puts his hands on the wall to brace himself.

“Darling, baby, baby,” Harry mewls, pushing back for more and hissing when she licks into him - his ring-bare hand leaning back to thread into her hair.

YN was planning to draw this out but she only gets a few directed laps before he’s moaning obsencenly, loud enough to hear through the god damn arena.

And then he’s gripping his cock, giving one firm tug, and he’s coming with pants and unfiltered, inconsiderate shouts of pleasure.

“S’good, m’good wife. S’no one better than you. Y’the only one who makes me feel like this. Crave y’like a drug, flower,” He praises endlessly, he turns around and helps her up - kissing her harshly.

When his hand comes to sneak between her thighs, she shakes her head and murmurs, “We don’t have time, H. Everyone is waiting on us.”

He pouts with his swollen pink lips, “I’ll take care of y’are the hotel, promise.”

“Mm,” She agrees, scrubbing the leftover shampoo bubbles from his hair as he tucks his face into her neck and tries make himself smaller.

Harry always gets a little sheepish after she does anything that makes him feel vulnerable, needs reassurance from her.

“Only with you, m’yours. Y’own my heart, ‘ave since we were fifteen,” Harry murmurs into her neck.

-

When they get themselves together, dressed, and exit the bathroom into the dressing room.

Harry Lambert is irritated as he is picking Harry’s clothing off the floor and putting it back on the hanger.

The stylist gives them a look, a knowing look, as he hangs the trousers on the rack.

“Fuck off,” The singer huffs, tugging his wife by the hand out of the room and to the car waiting for them.