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bg-brainrot · 8 months ago

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More than Vampiric Charms (Astarion x Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: After some banter between Astarion and Jaheira goes too far, you (Tav) take some time to remind Astarion that he is so much more than a pair of fangs.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, Blood, Blood Drunk, blood as a coping mechanism

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted for this banter in my last poll! This was a fun one c:

Word count: ~3.2k

Walking through the streets of Baldur's Gate is always an adventure with your group– a particularly fraught adventure on this day, as Jaheira and Astarion seem hellsbent on trading barbs.

It had started out playfully enough, with a snide remark from Astarion, "Oh that building used to be a delightful little sweets shop about a hundred years ago. Though I suppose the crone would remember that, wouldn’t she?”

Jaheira, used to remarks about her age, often being the one to start them, was ready with a quick quip back, “Was that before or after your hair turned gray? With my old age, I can never remember.”

Astarion visibility bit back a remark about this being his natural hair color when you glared back at both of them. “Could we focus a bit please? You two can reminisce after we’ve seen to this latest bloody basement.”

One trail of blood, a disgusting array of corpses, and a piece of clown later and the two of them were at it again.

“Jaheira,” Astarion had started in a light tone– a clear indicator that he had no intent to focus. “Have you considered taking on the role of Dribbles the clown yourself? The makeup might help cover all those pesky wrinkles.”

The druid had snickered, appreciating the comment, and shot back, “I think you would be better suited to the role, given you are already a fool.”

That time, Karlach had interrupted, “Don’t either of you dare! No one could replace this Baldurian hero.”

“Which is exactly why we’re helping to piece him back together,” you’d confirmed with a nod. “Besides, you’re both cranky enough to make the children weep.”

“Darling!” Astarion had gasped, an offended hand on his chest. “How could you say that about me?”

You’d ignored his question, instead choosing to deposit a quick kiss on his pursed lips. A soft, effective bandaid that left the man with crossed arms and a reluctant smile.

Moments later, you were ushering the group out of the building and into the city. Insults forgotten, everyone began trudging the familiar path back to the Elfsong to clean up.

Now, along this very path, you hear Jaheira strike up a new conversation with Astarion– one that has your ears perking up, even as you continue to lead the way ahead.

“It seems that you and our leader are closer than ever,” the woman observes, a smile in her voice.

There’s a moment of silence, and you can practically see Astarion’s suspicious expression in your mind’s eye as he assesses the situation. “Yes, you could say that,” he finally replies. “What can I say? I am, after all, quite charming.”

“I am glad it is your non-vampiric charms our friend has fallen for, Astarion.” A short, thoughtful pause follows before she asks, “It is, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Astarion responds, his voice reaching a comically high pitch– one that almost makes you laugh. You want to hear this conversation more than most though, so not a sound escapes your lips. The vampire scoffs before he continues. "Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?"

There’s a clear hesitation as Astarion’s words hang in the air.

You wonder why Jaheira isn’t responding, what her expression must be– but before you can turn around to find out more, Astarion is speaking again.

“If you insist on prying,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit pointedly. “Perhaps you’d care to join us. And see how much we enjoy one another.”

The insinuation in his tone is almost enough to have you spinning around– teasing Karlach or Shadowheart is one thing, but Jaheira? Gods, you can feel the heat rising up your neck– “Why?” Jaheira snaps back. “Do you require some instruction on how the deed is done?”

“I’m sure even I could learn some new tricks from an old veteran such as yourself,” Astarion replies, mirth shining through in his tone.

Wait, is he actually inviting her?

You know you need to stop this conversation before it mortifies you any further. “Stop it, both of you!” you say, turning your head back, trying your best to keep a stern, not-at-all embarrassed expression on your face. “We don’t need the next installment of ‘Love at First Knife’ getting any more convoluted.”

There’s some grumbling from Astarion, an amused smile from Jaheira, and a chortle from Karlach, but otherwise your group makes it back to the Elfsong without tearing each other– or their clothes– apart.

That evening, Astarion slips away.

It’s not an unusual occurrence– some days his hunger is harder to ignore than others, on some you hadn’t found nearly enough evil to suck dry. Ultimately, he never wanted to take too much blood from you, so he chooses to forage as he has taken to calling it.

As a result, you think nothing of it at first, settling into bed after dinner with a book propped between your hands. After all, Cazador is dead, and Astarion is more than capable of taking down some of the most fearsome enemies in the city– he should take all the time he needs to himself.

But the hours pass, and Astarion has yet to return. The candles around you begin to dwindle, words begin to swim on a page you haven’t turned in quite some time, and sleep slowly but surely starts to drag your eyelids down.

It has almost claimed you when the door to your shared room at the Elfsong slams shut. You hear groans from around the room as those who were similarly drifting off to bed are shocked awake, everyone expecting yet another unwelcome visitor. You almost don’t have time to react before an armor-clad vampire lands atop of you.

You do react though, instinctively striking at the man with the spine of your book, a loud ‘thwack’ letting you know that your contact was true.

“Oof,” Astarion mutters, now fully splayed across your torso like a stretching cat. “Darling, must you be so violent?”

“Astarion?” you ask, putting down your book, shaking off the beginning throes of sleep as you realize what’s transpired. “Weapons down everyone, it’s Astarion.”

After a few affirmative grumbles from around the room, you turn your attention back to the vampire, “Are you alright? Did you get injured?”

“Mmm,” he murmurs, burying his face in your blanket, and rubbing at the spot where you’d hit him. “Nothing's the matter. Everything is perfectly dandy.”

His words slur though and something seems to be amiss. His movements are fluid, his body weight is completely and utterly relaxed onto you.

Almost as if…

“Are you… drunk?” you haven’t seen him like this since the bear he drank near the grove. When you’d asked him the question then, he’d shrugged it off– but it was certainly the closest to drunk you’d ever seen him.

“Not strictly speaking, no…” he drolls, tilting his head slightly to stare at you with one eye. His cheeks are flushed, a telltale sign of his recent feeding, and his eye is glazed over, its blissful sheen telling you all that you need to know.

“Have a good dinner, did you?” you ask, smiling down at him wearily. You can hardly fault him for indulging, especially after the couple of weeks you’ve had.

He chuckles, his one visible eye crinkling a bit. “Oh yes. A rather large bugbear. Hardly knew what bit him.”

You run a hand through Astarion’s hair, and respond, “Well done, my sweet, bloodthirsty vampire.”

Normally, such sweet words of unabashed flattery would elicit a smile, a laugh, maybe even a kiss– but tonight Astarion freezes under your touch, his eye going wide before he tucks his face back into the bedding.

“Astarion?” you ask, your previous worry about injury now promptly replaced by a worry of a much deeper hurt.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, voice sounding distant.

You scratch at his scalp, a bit, trying to encourage him back toward you. “Love, you know you’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”

He gives a soft, annoyed huff– an endearing, drunken noise were it not for the fact that he seems determined not to look at you. And continue to crush you with the full weight of his body.

“Astarion,” you say again, with a bit more emphasis, shaking his head a little with your next scratch. “If nothing is truly wrong, I will wake up Karlach. You know she would love to see you in this state.” As if to punctuate your point, a snore sounds from a few beds over, where you know the barbarian slumbers.

“Please don’t,” he murmurs, finally turning around to look at you fully.

You’re surprised to see his eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned down in a truly melancholy frown– always an expressive man, it seems that Astarion’s intoxicated demeanor is twice as exaggerated. Cute, you think. But also concerning. “Love,” you whisper, running a hand along his face. “Talk to me.”

Astarion hesitates, his watery eyes wincing as he debates his next words. Those same red eyes show an unexpected amount of vulnerability– all that bugbear blood is keeping his expression open, his entire face a rosy hue. His mouth opens, closes, his body shifts, and he fumbles with the latches on his armor as he thinks. You simply lay there, playing with his curls until he’s ready.

When he finally speaks, his words take you by surprise.

“You don’t just like me because I’m a vampire… do you?”

“What?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. Surely, you misheard him.

“You know,” he continues, waving a hand about the air. “My vampiric charms. The fangs. The blood sucking. The mysterious allure?”

“Why in the nine hells would you think that?” You reach a hand out to grab his, tugging on it gently to try to get him to sit up.

Astarion’s eyes drift away from you, but he does sit up, legs draping over your stomach. “Just… because of something Jaheira said.”

Oh. The conversation you’d been eavesdropping on.

“Do you mean what she said earlier? On our way back to the Elfsong?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Well, yes,” he mutters, still not looking at you. “Though I can’t help but notice you haven’t answered my question…”

“Astarion,” you start, releasing his hand, only to place it on the slightly flushed skin of his cheek. “No, I do not only like you because you’re a vampire.” Your words are firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

His eyes meet yours again, and still you can see so much doubt, so much unmitigated fear. “Are you certain? You truly do seem to enjoy it when I bite you.”

“Well, that’s true,” you admit with a small wince. It does feel rather… good when he bites you, it would be a lie to say otherwise and, besides, you’ve told him as much before. “But that’s not why I like you, you fool.”

Astarion’s bottom lip slips into a small pout and he moves away from your hand. “You’re not very convincing, you know? Especially when you call me a fool.”

You scooch out a bit from under him, leaving your legs under his. With all of the severity in the world, you reply, “If it makes you feel better, I’m a fool too.”

“You are?” he asks, curious despite himself– easily falling for your little trap.

“A fool for you.”

The noise that escapes him is half groan, half chuckle, and his mouth pulls into a lopsided little smile that you’re not certain you would have earned were he not a bit blooddrunk. “Gods, how the hells did I fall for you?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions,” you respond with a smirk on your face. When you place a hand on his knee, the smirk turns into a small smile. “But I’m being genuine– I don’t like you because you’re a vampire. And before you ask, I don’t love you because of your vampirism either.”

He gives a small huff. “Well, Jaheira made it sound as if there wasn’t much else to care for.” An uncharacteristic admittance from him– normally he would brush off such a statement with a proud declaration of how phenomenal he is. But it seems that Jaheira’s words cut deep– and that blood has loosened his lips.

“Jaheira, despite all of her many, many years of experience–” you enjoy the full laugh that elicits. “simply doesn’t have my refined taste. There are so many reasons to like you, love. In fact, vampirism doesn’t even make the list.”

“Oh, you’re keeping track, are you?” he asks, folding his arms and body over his legs and smiling up at you.

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning forward toward him. “Would you like a sampling of reasons?”

The look he gives you then is hopeful, but more than a little dread slips through in his shining red eyes. When he answers, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you mean them.”

This withdrawn, unsure Astarion isn’t a common sight to you, but, like every other facet of the man before you, he’s no less lovable. So you lean forward, placing a kiss on his pale forehead, and say, “I mean them with my whole heart.”

“Then… I suppose I ought to be lavished with them," he murmurs, and you spot the blush intensifying over his cheeks, now also coloring his ears.

Coupled with his fluid, inebriated state, his heart laid bare before you, you want to scream the reasons from the roof of the Elfsong, if only for him to believe you. But, as it is, the soft snores of your companions keep your voice hushed, your face close to his as you begin.

“Let’s see… should I start with the first thing that stood out to me?”

He hums in agreement, and closes his eyes, as if preparing to listen to the sweetest tune known to the entirety of Faerun.

“Well, it started with your first lie, I think,” you start.

Astarion gives a disapproving groan, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“My dear, you said you said you had a ‘brain thing’ cornered– I hope you know the smile on my face wasn’t from confidence,” you say with a new, fond smile at the memory. “I just knew from that moment on, you didn’t much care for what others thought of you, as long as your goals were met. A kindred spirit. Or so you said that day.”

At that, he reopens his eyes. “That’s not true.”

“We’re not kindred spirits?” you ask, an unexpected tinge of hurt blooming in your chest.

“That’s true,” he says, balming the hurt quickly. “It’s not true that I don’t care what others think of me. I do. Well, maybe not everyone.” His eyes dart toward Gale’s bed and you stifle a snicker. “But I certainly care what you think of me.”

You look into his crimson eyes, a bit clearer now than when you began talking– the blood seems to be working its way through his system. His words come from a place of honesty, not a lack of inhibition.

“Then, let me assure you here and now,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I think–” Another quick peck on his lips. “you’re the funniest–” A kiss to his nose. “the most deft–” A brush of lips against his temple. “creative, endearing, brave–” Each word comes with a kiss along his jaw. “man I’ve ever met.”

Astarion’s eyes look at you, his face still for a moment as he considers your words. When he finally speaks, it’s a quiet, choked up question, “Oh, is that it?”

“Would you like me to keep going?” you ask, lips perched just above his eyebrow, ready for another round.

He shakes his head ever so slightly. “No– no need or you’ll be here all night, surely,” he says, posturing as best as he can while still looking at you with fearful eyes. Almost as if your candid praise is simply too much for him to bear.

It may be too much, and you’re not one to push it.

“Very well,” you say, pulling back. “But I didn’t even get to how good you look covered in blood…”

The man gives a light laugh at that, some of his nerves melting before praise he understands– his appearance is a source of comfort, one that brings him back to himself. “Oooh yes, I do look dashing in red, don’t I?” he purrs, a content smile forming on his face.

“That you do,” you assure, with your own warm look. You wish he would accept all praise this easily, but you suppose this is all you can do for now.

So little of what matters to you is his vampirism, his looks… but for a man like Astarion, for whom a kind word felt like a double-edged blade for two centuries? Well, you’re reminded that regardless of how many times you may tell him, whether now when he’s a bit fuzzy around the edges or when you’re in your cups, he may never truly believe you.

No matter, you suppose. I’ll simply keep finding new ways to show him how much I care for him…

“So Jaheira was kidding, right?” Astarion asks, sitting up and finally beginning to remove his leathers.

You nod, moving to help him remove his greaves. “Naturally. I thought you’d been enjoying the conversation, actually.”

“I had been,” he replies, thoughtfully. “But the more I remembered how sinfully you shiver under my fangs…”

He’s dodging before you can so much as flick his ear. “Excuse you. Is that any way to treat your most reliable source of sustenance?”

Astarion smirks as he leans away from you in the bed. “Oh darling, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you can’t help it.”

“Astarion–”

“Ehem!” You hear from somewhere behind you. It’s followed shortly by Shadowheart’s annoyed voice, “Would the two of you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest.”

If by ‘rest’ she means ‘reach the end of her copper novel’, then you suppose she’s right. Either way, you whisper back, “Sorry, I was defending my dignity.”

“What dignity?” she murmurs back. “And in case you’re wondering, you’re both utter fools.”

Oh great, she’d heard everything.

“Shadowheart, were you eavesdropping?” Astarion asks, crawling over you to glare at her from the edge of your bed. He’s half-dressed and still somewhat out of sorts, so you just lean back against the pillows and accept your fate.

“Is it really eavesdropping if I can hear it all clearly?” the cleric says, and you hear her book snap shut. “Besides, Astarion, if you really needed someone to reassure you, you should have asked me.”

“You?” he asks, incredulously. “And why should I ask you?”

“Because,” she starts, and you can hear her wicked smile in her tone. “I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no such thing as ‘vampiric charm.’ I’ve never felt less charmed in my entire life.”

You can sense Astarion is just about ready to light Shadowheart’s hair on fire, so you tug him back down from the divide. “Thank you for that clarification, Shadowheart,” you call, biting back a laugh. “And I’m starting to realize none of us really have private conversations, do we?”

“No, we do not,” you hear Gale reply from a few beds away.

With that, Astarion gives an exasperated sigh and the two of you finish removing his armor in silence. When you’re both finally ready for bed and you whisper to him, “Goodnight.” Shadowheart, Gale, and Wyll all respond, “Goodnight!”

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #tadfools tomfoolery #astarion comfort #spawn astarion

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hotvintagepoll · 10 months ago

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Propaganda

Harry Belafonte (Carmen Jones, Island in the Sun)—one of my favorite things in the world when I'm sad is kicking back and listening to him and Danny Kaye singing "Hava Nagila" together. Or who can forget this man singing the Banana Boat song with the Muppets?? immensely talented, a powerful fighter for civil rights and humanitarian causes his whole life, if you have any remaining doubts PLEASE look at the following pics [clips and pics attached below]

Buster Keaton (The General, The Navigator, Sherlock Jr.)—For me Buster’s hotness comes not just from his physical beauty but in the constant surprise and contradictions of the man, he’s simultaneously delicate/rough, feminine/masculine, confident/vulnerable, 5foot5 pretty face with an unexpectedly deep voice, at first glance you think oh he’s a cute little thing and then he takes his top off and it’s Superman abs underneath. He was intensely shy in social situations but had no hesitation in jumping off the top of a building. He famously never smiled on screen* but he exudes warmth and joy and laughter. He created some of the most beautiful, intelligent movies ever made but refused to acknowledge his own genius and talent as an artist, instead maintaining that all he wanted to do was make people laugh. If he was here in reality competing in this poll he would give it 100% but he would not be at all bothered if he didn’t win. And that’s why he’s the hottest vintage man. A vote for Buster is a vote for all that is good and decent in the world 💕 (*he did smile on camera occasionally despite his own assertions to the contrary 😄)

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Buster Keaton propaganda:

"Just look at his freaking face...."

This entire Tumblr page was submitted

This post

This video

"And for those who have never heard it, here’s his lovely voice in action: link"

Submitted: Link to Buster Keaton car stunts

Submitted: BK fancam

Submitted: quotes about BK video compilation

"Ripped body, gorgeous unique face, beautiful personality too"

youtube

Harry Belafonte propaganda:

youtube

"Now let me say this about the songs of the Caribbean - almost all black music is deeply rooted in metaphor. The only way that we could speak to the pain and anguish of our experiences was often through how we codified our stories in the songs that we sang. And when I sing the 'Banana Boat Song,' the song is a work song. It's about men who sweat all day long, and they are underpaid, and they're begging the tallyman to come and give them an honest count - counting the bananas that I've picked, so I can be paid. And sometimes, when they couldn't get money, they'll give them a drink of rum. There's a lyric in the song that says, 'Work all night on a drink of rum.' People sing and delight and dance and love it, but they don't really understand unless they study the song that they're singing a work song, a song of rebellion." -Harry Belafonte

youtube

#buster keaton #harry belafonte #round 4 #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old man #Youtube

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bloodreinasbathwater · 5 months ago

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The Lucky Bachelor

Part 2

Luke Hughes x Ex Girlfriend! Reader

a.n: I decided against making a prequel before finishing part 2. this has been a wip forEVER and now I can finally get back to other works. I'll be posting a poll? on my page to see what you guys want next. I hope you guys enjoy and please message me if you have any questions or want to be added to the tag list. <3

warnings: flirting, kissing, cursing, gaslighting (i love this word) mentions of alcohol

Summary: This is their second chance at love, it had been three years since that night in Michigan, three years since they officially split for the better. With some unwanted help Luke knows he will find a way to make her love him again.

word count - 4682

masterlist link

Y/N stirred awake, the gentle crash of waves filtering through the half-open window. For a moment, she basked in the peaceful sounds of the beach house, her mind blissfully blank. Then, like a tidal wave, the memories of last night came crashing back.

Luke's intense gaze. His husky voice. "I want you back. However I can have you." His calloused thumb stroked her lower lip as he inched closer, arousal darkening his eyes to a deep black. "Let me make up for lost time..."

She felt her heart stop as his musky, intoxicating scent enveloped her. Luke's face drifted closer, the heat of his body enveloping her. His lips were a mere hairsbreadth away, their breaths intermingling hotly. She could see the molten want simmering in his soulful brown eyes, setting her pulse racing.

Throwing caution to the wind, Y/N closed the scant distance between them and captured Luke's mouth in a searing kiss. A guttural groan rumbled up from his chest as their lips met in a fiery clash. His hand buried itself in her hair, angling her head for deeper exploration.

Luke nipped at her full lower lip, eliciting a soft whimper from Y/N. She opened for him eagerly, their tongues sliding together in a heated duel. Three years of pent-up longing, hurt, and unresolved desire poured into their passionate embrace.

Y/N melted against the solid wall of Luke's bare chest as his other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against his muscular frame. She could feel the defined ridges of his abs, sculpted from years of intense training, pressing into her softness.

One of Luke's hands trailed blazing paths down her sides, coming to rest possessively below her waistband. Y/N arched shamelessly into his touch, wanting— needing — to be closer. She hooked one leg over his, straddling his powerful thighs as Luke's calloused palms mapped every inch of her sensitized skin.

Luke's mouth moved to her jaw, her neck, scattering scorching open-mouthed kisses along the way. Y/N threw her head back with a throaty moan as he found that sensitive spot below her ear that drove her wild. "Luke..." she gasped breathlessly, fingers raking through his thick chestnut locks.

The distant sound of footsteps caused them both to freeze, bodies taut as bowstrings. Luke was the first to recover, groaning regretfully as he twisted to hide Y/N from view just as Anastasia's grating voice pierced the heated air.

"Y/N? Are you in here?" The redhead's syrupy voice called out. "Oh, there you are, ugh I've been looking everywhere for you!"

And then—nothing. The moment was lost, leaving y/n stuttering and stumbling over her words and fled the room to follow Anastasia, leaving a visibly frustrated Luke behind.

Now, in the harsh light of day, Y/N's thoughts were a tangled mess.

What was I thinking? she berated herself, pulling the covers over her head. Or rather, why wasn't I thinking at all? It's Luke, for crying out loud. The same Luke who broke my heart a few months after senior year. The same Luke I swore I was over.

But even as she tried to convince herself it was a mistake, her body betrayed her. She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her lip, the warmth of his breath on her face. It sent a shiver down her spine.

Get it together, she thought, forcing herself to sit up. It was just the alcohol and the nostalgia talking. It didn't mean anything. But a traitorous voice in the back of her mind whispered, then why does it feel like everything?

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. How was she supposed to face Luke now? How was she supposed to face anyone? She could already imagine the knowing looks, the whispered conversations that would stop the moment she entered a room.

And Anastasia... Y/N's stomach churned at the thought of the other woman's reaction. She'd noticed Anastasia’s possessive behavior around Luke, the daggers she glared whenever Y/N so much as looked in his direction.

This vacation is going to be a disaster, Y/N thought miserably. But as the smell of coffee and bacon wafted up from the kitchen, she knew she couldn't hide forever. Taking a deep breath, she swung her legs out of bed.

Time to face the music, she thought, steeling herself for what promised to be the most awkward breakfast of her life.

…

Y/N took a deep breath before entering the kitchen, the cheerful chatter inside contrasting sharply with her inner turmoil. As she slid open the door, the conversation lulled for a moment before picking up again, a bit too enthusiastically as all eyes turned to her.

Ethan, who had been in the middle of a story, trailed off. "...and then I— Oh, hey Y/N."

Clarke was at the stove flipping pancakes. She flashed Y/N a bright smile, but there was a question in her eyes. "Morning, sleepyhead! I was starting to think we'd have to send a search party."

"Sorry," Y/N mumbled, making a beeline for the coffee pot. "Guess I needed the extra sleep."

She felt Luke's eyes on her but couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Instead, she focused on pouring her coffee, acutely aware of Anastasia's fiery red hair in her peripheral vision. y/n decided to settle into an empty chair, coincidentally (or not) right across from Luke, Y/N could feel the others trying not to stare. She busied herself with buttering a piece of toast, trying to ignore the way her hand trembled slightly.

Damien clapped his hands together. "Alright, losers! Beach volleyball tournament today. We need to split into teams."

Ethan groaned. "Can we at least eat first? Some of us are still recovering from last night."

"Lightweight," Jared teased, his dark curls still damp from an early morning swim.

"So, Y/N," Anastasia's saccharine voice cut through the chatter, "you disappeared pretty early last night. Everything okay?"

Y/N's head snapped up, meeting Anastasia's knowing smirk. "Oh, uh, yeah. Just tired from the trip, I guess."

Luke cleared his throat. "Hey, An, could you pass the syrup?"

The use of the nickname wasn't lost on Y/N, and she felt a twinge of... something. Jealousy? Regret?

"Here you go, lukey," Anastasia purred, her hand lingering on his as she passed the bottle.

Emilia rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh my god, get a room you two."

Y/N nearly choked on her coffee, earning a concerned look from Taylor, whose kind eyes crinkled at the corners. "You alright there, Y/N?"

"Fine," she managed, reaching for a glass of water. "Just went down the wrong pipe."

Y/N found herself stealing glances at Luke, his brows were furrowed, jaw tense as he methodically cut his pancakes. When their eyes finally met, the intensity in his gaze made her breath catch, she quickly looked away, feeling a warmth creep up her neck.

Clarke's voice cut through her thoughts. "Y/N, you're pretty quiet this morning. Everything okay?"

Y/N blinked, realizing she'd been pushing her food around her plate. "Oh, uh, yeah. Just..." she paused, searching for words. "Didn't sleep great. Still adjusting to the new place, I guess."

Luke glanced up, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "The waves take some getting used to. They can be pretty loud at night." Y/N nodded, grateful for the save, even as she felt her cheeks warm slightly.

Clarke hummed in agreement, absently twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she leaned against the kitchen counter. "So, are you guys up for some volleyball later?"

Y/N hesitated, her fork hovering over her plate. "Oh, um..." She glanced at Luke, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. The silence stretched for a beat too long.

"Sure," Luke finally said, his voice casual. "Could be fun. Y/N? For old times' sake?"

The double meaning wasn't lost on her. Y/N straightened her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. "You're on. Hope you've improved your serve since high school."

A collective "Oooh" went around the table, the others picking up on the charged atmosphere between Y/N and Luke. They exchanged knowing glances, misreading the situation as a rekindling of their old high school competitive spirit.

Anastasia's eyes narrowed. "I call Luke's team," she said quickly.

"Great!" Clarke beamed, oblivious to the undercurrents, as she moved to sit on Damien's lap, chattering excitedly about their beach plans. "This is going to be so much fun!"

The group's attention suddenly shifted as a loud crash echoed through the kitchen. All heads whipped around to see Jared, who had jumped up from his seat a bit too enthusiastically, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. In his rush to right it, he bumped the table, sending ripples across its surface. Y/N's coffee mug teetered precariously before tipping over, its contents spilling directly onto Luke's lap.

"Oh shi—shoot!" Y/N exclaimed, grabbing a handful of napkins and instinctively reaching across to dab at Luke's jeans. It took her a split second to realize what she was doing. She froze, her hand awkwardly hovering over Luke's thigh, their faces inches apart.

"I've got it," Luke said, his voice husky. He took the napkins from her hand, their fingers brushing.

Damien, ever the jokester, couldn't resist. "Whoa there, Y/N! Trying to get Luke out of his pants already? At least wait until after breakfast!"

The table erupted in laughter as Y/N's face turned beet red. She sat back quickly, knocking over the syrup bottle in the process. It rolled across the table and right into Anastasia's plate, splattering her white top with maple syrup and bits of scrambled egg.

"Are you kidding me?" Anastasia shrieked, jumping up from her seat.

In the chaos that followed—Clarke rushing to get a wet cloth, Ethan barely containing his laughter, and Emilia trying to help clean up the mess—Y/N caught Luke's eye again. To her surprise, he was grinning, a mischievous glint in his eye that took her right back to their high school days.

What have I gotten myself into? she thought, both dreading and anticipating the day ahead.

…

After breakfast, Y/N slipped away from the bustling kitchen, her fingers trembling slightly as she grasped the cool metal handle of the sliding glass door. With a deep breath, she eased it open, wincing at the slight squeak of the tracks. The salt-tinged breeze hit her face as she stepped onto the weathered wooden deck, the boards creaking softly under her bare feet.

She glanced back, ensuring no one had followed, before carefully sliding the door shut behind her. The sounds of laughter and clinking dishes from the kitchen became muffled, replaced by the distant crash of waves and the cry of seagulls overhead.

Y/N's shoulders slumped as the facade she'd been maintaining all morning finally cracked. Her steps were heavy, almost stomping, as she crossed the sun-bleached planks to the railing. The peeling white paint was rough under her palms as she gripped it, leaning forward until her forehead rested against the weathered wood.

"Hey," Luke's voice was soft as he joined her at the railing. "You okay?" Y/N tensed, not having heard him approach. She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of him in her peripheral vision as he leaned against the railing beside her, leaving a careful distance between them.

Y/N nodded, not quite meeting his eyes. "Yeah, just needed some air."

They stood in silence for a moment, both staring out at the ocean. The salty breeze ruffled Luke's hair, and Y/N found herself fighting the urge to reach out and smooth it down, just like she used to.

Finally, Luke took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling noticeably. He turned towards her, his fingers drumming lightly on the railing. "About last night..."

"Luke, I—" Y/N started, pivoting to face him, but Luke held up a hand, gently cutting her off.

"No, let me finish," he said, his eyes searching her face. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it made Y/N's heart ache. "I meant what I said. But I understand if you need time. We can't just pick up where we left off."

She turned to face Luke fully, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face, noting the subtle changes time had etched there. "It's not that simple," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We're different people now. How do we know this isn't just nostalgia talking?"

"I don't think it is," he said carefully, each word measured. "At least, not for me. But I get why you might feel that way."

Y/N sighed, leaning back against the railing. The rough wood pressed into her palms as she gripped it, anchoring herself. "It's just... we have history, Luke. Good and bad." She paused, swallowing hard. "And being back here, with everyone... it's bringing up a lot of old feelings."

Luke nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. She could see the flecks of gold in his irises, illuminated by the morning sun. "I know," he said, his voice low and earnest. "And I'm not asking for any promises, Y/N." He took a small step closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. "I just... I think there's still something here, between us. Something worth exploring. If you want to."

Y/N felt her heart racing. Part of her wanted to throw caution to the wind, to see where this could go. But another part, the part that remembered the pain of their breakup, held her back.

"I don't know what I want," she admitted. "This is all so much, so fast."

Luke reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking her hand. "Then let's just... see what happens. No pressure, no expectations. We've got this whole week ahead of us. Let's just enjoy it, and maybe... maybe we can figure things out along the way."

Y/N looked down at their joined hands, then back up at Luke. She saw the sincerity in his eyes, the hope, and felt something inside her soften.

"Okay," she said with a small smile. "Let's see what happens."

Luke's answering smile was warm, and for a moment, Y/N felt like maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

Their moment was broken by Clarke's voice calling from inside. "Hey, lovebirds! We're heading to the beach. You coming or what?"

Y/N and Luke shared a laugh, the tension between them easing.

"Ready?" Luke asked, still holding her hand.

Y/N nodded, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go. "Yeah, I’m ready."

…

After their talk, the group made their way down to the beach, arms laden with coolers, umbrellas, and bags full of sunscreen and snacks. The sand was warm beneath their feet, and the air was thick with the scent of salt and sunblock.

"Alright, troops," Clarke announced, surveying the stretch of golden sand before them. "Let's set up base camp here."

"Yes, ma'am!" Damien saluted playfully, earning an eye roll and a smile from Clarke.

They fell into an easy rhythm, working together to create their perfect beach spot. Damien and Ethan wrestled with the large umbrellas, arguing good-naturedly about the best angle for maximum shade. "Dude, you're doing it wrong," Ethan grunted, struggling with a particularly stubborn umbrella. "It needs to face east."

Damien scoffed, "East? Are you kidding me? We want it facing south for optimal coverage."

"Guys, guys," Jared interjected, shaking his head as he and Taylor laid out a patchwork of colorful towels and beach blankets. "As long as it keeps us from turning into lobsters, does it really matter?"

Y/N found herself shoulder to shoulder with Luke, the heat from his sun-warmed skin palpable even without touching. They crouched over the coolers, the plastic handles cool and slightly damp under their fingers. The zipper rasped as Luke opened one, releasing a burst of frigid air that smelled faintly of sandwiches and fruit.

As they worked, arranging drinks and snacks, Luke cleared his throat. His voice was low, meant just for her ears amid the cacophony of crashing waves and distant laughter.

"So, uh... a law, huh?" He glanced at her, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Quite a change from the girl who used to drag me to surf at dawn."

Y/N felt a chuckle bubble up, surprising herself with how genuine it sounded. She could taste the salt in the air as she spoke. "Look who's talking, Mr. Hockey player. Whatever happened to being the next Kurt Cobain?"

Luke snorted, running a hand through his hair. A few grains of sand fell, catching the sunlight. "God, was I really that pretentious?"

"Only every other day," Y/N teased, the familiar banter feeling both comforting and dangerous.

Luke shook his head, grinning. His eyes crinkled at the corners, a detail Y/N had forgotten she loved. "Well, I'll have you know skating is way cooler than rock and roll these days."

Their easy banter was suddenly interrupted by the scent of tropical coconut, strong enough to overpower the salty air. Anastasia's voice cut through their conversation, saccharine sweet. "Luke, be a dear and get my back, would you?"

Y/N's eyes flicked up to see Anastasia standing there, all tanned skin and curves in a barely-there bikini. She was holding out a bottle of sunscreen, the lotion inside making a soft squelching sound as she shook it.

Luke hesitated, his eyes darting to Y/N for a split second. "Uh, sure, Ana. Just give me a sec to finish up here."

Y/N felt her jaw clench involuntarily. She busied herself with the cooler, the zipper's harsh rasp matching her mood as she yanked it open with more force than necessary. The cold air that rushed out did little to cool the heat rising in her cheeks.

She pointedly avoided looking up as Luke moved away, instead focusing on arranging bags of chips and fruit with meticulous care. But she couldn't block out the soft murmur of Luke's voice or Anastasia's exaggerated sighs as he applied the sunscreen.

…

The beach stretched out before them, a canvas of gold meeting the cerulean blue of the ocean. Further down, children were building sandcastles, their laughter carried on the salt-tinged breeze.

"Remember senior skip day?" Jared asked, passing around a bag of chips. "When we all came to a beach just like this?"

"Oh god," Y/N groaned, accepting the bag. "Didn't Taylor get stung by a jellyfish?"

Taylor shuddered at the memory. "Don't remind me. I still can't look at Jell-O the same way."

Anastasia's voice cut through her reverie. "Are we going to sit around all day, or are we going to play some volleyball?" There was a chorus of agreement as everyone started to get up, brushing sand from their legs and reapplying sunscreen.

"Here," Luke said, suddenly beside Y/N. He held out the sunscreen bottle. "Don't want you burning out there. Your law friends might think you've been slacking off."

Y/N rolled her eyes but took the bottle, their fingers brushing. "Thanks," she murmured, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach.

"Alright, let's divide up," Clarke called out. "Luke, Anastasia, Jared, and Ethan on one side. Y/N, you're with me, Damien, and Taylor."

Y/N felt a surge of competitive energy as she took her position opposite Anastasia at the net. The redhead's eyes gleamed with challenge. "Ready to eat sand, Y/N?" Anastasia taunted, tossing her hair.

The game started with Damien's powerful serve. Luke bumped it high, Anastasia set, and Jared spiked—but Y/N was there, diving to save it. The ball soared back over the net, catching Anastasia off guard.

"Point for us!" Clarke cheered, high-fiving Y/N.

The game intensified, each point fiercely contested. Y/N and Anastasia faced off repeatedly at the net, their rivalry becoming increasingly obvious.

"Nice try," Anastasia smirked after blocking one of Y/N's spikes.

Y/N gritted her teeth. "Game's not over yet."

During a particularly intense volley, Luke dove for the ball, sending it high. Both Y/N and Anastasia went for it, colliding mid-air. They tumbled to the sand, the ball bouncing away.

"Foul!" Emilia called from her shaded perch. "I mean, is that a thing in volleyball?"

As Y/N stood, brushing sand from her legs, she caught Luke looking at her with concern. She gave him a small nod, silently assuring him she was okay.

The game came down to match point. Y/N's team was up by one, and the tension was palpable. As Jared served, Y/N found herself face-to-face with Anastasia at the net.

"This point's mine," Anastasia hissed.

"We'll see about that," Y/N shot back.

The ball sailed towards them. They both jumped, their hands meeting at the top of the net. For a split second, it was like electricity coursed between them.

The ball teetered on the edge of the net before finally dropping to Anastasia's side.

"We won!" Clarke screamed, tackling Y/N in a hug. The rest of her team piled on, laughing and cheering.

As they disentangled themselves, Y/N looked up to see Luke offering her a hand. She took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"Good game," he said, his voice warm.

"Yeah," Y/N replied, slightly breathless. "Good game."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Anastasia watching them, her expression a mix of frustration and something else—something that told Y/N this competition was far from over.

…

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in deep oranges and purples. Sand-covered and sun-tired, the group trudged back to the beach house, their earlier energy mellowed into a comfortable buzz of contentment.

"I call first shower!" Jared announced, making a beeline for the stairs.

"Not if I beat you there!" Ethan retorted, shoving past him.

The others laughed, shaking their heads at the boys' antics as they dispersed to freshen up.

An hour later, everyone reconvened in the living room, hair damp and skin smelling of various soaps and lotions. They settled into the mismatched furniture – Clarke curled up in an armchair, Damien sprawled on the floor, others squeezing onto the worn leather couch.

"Alright, who's up for some drinking games?" Damien asked, producing a bottle of tequila with a flourish.

A chorus of cheers went up, and soon they were deep into a raucous game of "Never Have I Ever."

"If it involves any more physical activity, I'm out," Luke groaned good-naturedly from his spot on the couch.

There was a moment of silence, then a chorus of groans and laughs.

"Where did you even hide that?" Clarke asked, shaking her head but smiling.

As the night wore on, Y/N felt herself relaxing, the warmth of alcohol and friendship melting away her earlier anxieties. She found herself laughing more freely, even sharing embarrassing stories from college that had the group in stitches.

"Never have I ever..." Luke pondered, his eyes twinkling as they met Y/N's across the room. "Gotten a tattoo on spring break."

Y/N groaned, taking a sip of her drink along with Clarke and Jared. "Low blow, Hughes," she teased.

"Oh, come on," Ethan prodded. "You can't leave us hanging. What's the tattoo?"

Y/N felt her cheeks flush. "It's, uh... a small wave. On my hip."

Luke's eyebrows shot up, a mix of surprise and something else flickering across his face.

Before anyone could comment further, Anastasia stood abruptly, stumbling slightly. "Oops!" she giggled, her drink sloshing over the rim of her glass and right onto Y/N's white top.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Anastasia's voice dripped with false sincerity.

Y/N jumped up, the cold liquid seeping through her shirt. "It's... it's fine," she said, trying to keep her composure.

Luke was on his feet in an instant. "Come on, Y/N. I've got a clean shirt you can borrow."

Before she could protest, he was guiding her out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom.

Once inside, Luke rummaged through his suitcase, pulling out a soft, worn t-shirt. "Here," he said, handing it to her. "It'll be big, but it's dry."

"Thanks," Y/N murmured, suddenly very aware of their proximity in the small room.

Y/N turned away, the floorboards creaking softly under her feet. She could feel the weight of Luke's gaze on her back, raising goosebumps along her skin. With slightly trembling fingers, she grasped the hem of her damp shirt, peeling it off.

As she pulled Luke's shirt over her head, she was enveloped in his scent. It was a heady mixture – something uniquely Luke that brought a flood of memories rushing back. The soft cotton settled against her skin, still warm from Luke's body. Y/N took a steadying breath before turning around.

She nearly gasped. Luke was much closer than she'd anticipated. Those eyes were dark now, intense, filled with an emotion that made her pulse quicken.

"Y/N," he breathed, her name a whisper on his lips. His hand came up slowly, telegraphing his movement as if giving her a chance to pull away. But she didn't. Instead, she found herself leaning into his touch as his palm cupped her cheek, his calloused thumb brushing gently across her cheekbone.

Time seemed to slow. Y/N was acutely aware of every sensation – the warmth of Luke's hand, the soft brush of his breath against her lips, the thundering of her own heart. Luke began to lean in, his eyes flicking down to her mouth.

"Y/N," he breathed, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

She leaned into his touch, her heart racing. They were so close now, she could feel his breath on her lips. Instead, Y/N stepped back, her cheeks flushed. "We should... we should get back," she stammered.

Luke nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, you're right."

They rejoined the group, slipping back into the easy banter and games. But Y/N couldn't shake the lingering tension, the what-ifs hanging in the air between her and Luke. As the night wore on, Y/N stood to refill her drink. In the kitchen, she found herself alone with Anastasia.

"Having fun?" Anastasia's voice was sharp, all pretense of friendliness gone.

Y/N turned slowly. "Look, Anastasia, if this is about the game earlier—"

"This isn't about some stupid game," Anastasia snapped. "This is about you thinking you can waltz back into Luke's life like the past four years of seperation never happened."

Y/N felt her defenses rise. "You don't know anything about Luke and me."

Anastasia laughed coldly. "Oh, please. I know more than you think. I know why you two really broke up."

Y/N froze. "What are you talking about?"

"Luke told me everything," Anastasia said, her voice low and venomous. "About how uptight and boring you were in high school. How he felt suffocated. He wanted someone who could actually have fun, who wasn't afraid to live a little."

The words hit Y/N like a physical blow. "You're lying," she whispered, but doubt crept into her voice.

Anastasia smirked. "Am I? Why do you think he came to me after you two split? Face it, Y/N. You were never enough for him then, and you're certainly not enough for him now."

Before Y/N could respond, they heard footsteps approaching. Anastasia's demeanor changed instantly, a fake smile plastered on her face as Clarke entered the kitchen.

"Everything okay in here?" Clarke asked, looking between them.

"Just great," Anastasia chirped, brushing past Y/N to rejoin the party.

Y/N stood frozen, Clarke's concerned questions fading into background noise as Anastasia's words echoed in her mind. The joy of the evening evaporated, replaced by a gnawing doubt that threatened to consume her.

As Anastasia sauntered out of the kitchen, Y/N felt her emotions threatening to overflow. She grabbed Clarke's arm, pulling her friend closer.

"Clarke, I need to talk to you," Y/N said, her voice shaky.

Concern immediately clouded Clarke's features. "Of course, honey. What's wrong?"

Y/N took a deep breath, then the words came tumbling out in a rush. "It's Anastasia. She just... she said all this shit about Luke and me, about why we broke up. She said I was boring and uptight in high school, that Luke felt suffocated by me. That he went to her after we split because I wasn't enough for him."

Clarke's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Oh, that little—" She cut herself off, taking a calming breath. "Y/N, listen to me. Anastasia is full of crap, okay? She's just trying to get under your skin."

"But what if she's right?" Y/N whispered, voicing her deepest fear. "What if I really wasn't enough for Luke back then?"

Clarke took Y/N by the shoulders, looking her straight in the eye. "Y/N, I was there, remember? I saw you and Luke together in high school. What you two had... it was real. It was pure."

Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "Really?"

"Really," Clarke affirmed, her voice soft but firm. "The way Luke looked at you... girl, it was like you hung the moon and stars. You brought out the best in each other. You challenged each other, supported each other. It was actually kind of sickeningly sweet," she added with a gentle smile.

A watery laugh escaped Y/N's lips. "We were pretty nauseating, weren't we?"

"The worst," Clarke agreed, grinning. Then her expression softened again. "But Y/N, it was also beautiful. You two were so genuine together. Whatever happened between you... it wasn't because you weren't enough. You hear me?"

Y/N nodded, feeling the knot in her chest start to loosen. "Thanks, Clarke. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Crash and burn, obviously," Clarke teased, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. "Now listen, whatever game Anastasia is playing, don't let her win. You're amazing, Y/N. You always have been. And if Luke can't see that, then he's an idiot. But between you and me," she added in a conspiratorial whisper, "I think he sees it clear as day."

Y/N squeezed her friend tightly, feeling grounded and reassured. As they pulled apart, Clarke wiped a stray tear from Y/N's cheek.

"You good?" Clarke asked.

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks, Clarke."

"Anytime, babe. Now, let's get back out there and show Anastasia that she can't ruin our fun, okay?"

With a newfound sense of confidence, Y/N followed Clarke back to the living room. As she settled back into her spot, her eyes met Luke's across the room. He smiled at her, warm and genuine, and Y/N felt her heart skip a beat.

The night continued, filled with laughter and friendship, and Y/N allowed herself to relax and enjoy it, pushing thoughts of Anastasia and old heartbreaks to the back of her mind. For now, she was here with her friends, making new memories, and that was enough.

The next morning, the group dragged themselves out of bed before dawn, yawning and clutching travel mugs of coffee. They piled into two rental cars, following their local guide, Miguel, to the cliff diving spot.

As they wound their way up the coastal road, the scenery took Y/N's breath away. Lush greenery gave way to craggy cliffs, and below, the ocean stretched out in a stunning palette of turquoise and deep blue.

"It's beautiful," Y/N murmured, her face pressed against the car window.

"Just wait till you see it from the top," Luke replied from the driver's seat, shooting her a grin that made her heart flutter.

When they arrived, Miguel led them on a short hike to the cliff's edge. The group fell into easy chatter as they walked, discussing their plans for the rest of the vacation and sharing stories from the night before.

"Alright, folks," Miguel announced as they reached the jumping point. "We're here. Now, remember the safety instructions. Jump feet first, arms at your sides. The water's deep, but stay alert."

Y/N peered over the edge, her stomach doing a somersault at the height. The crystal-clear water below looked inviting, but suddenly, the idea of jumping seemed terrifying.

"Okay, who's first?" Damien asked, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

To Y/N's surprise, Clarke and Damien volunteered to go first. They approached the edge hand in hand, counted to three, and leaped with twin shouts of exhilaration.

One by one, the pairs jumped. Jared and Taylor went next, followed by Ethan and Emilia. Even Anastasia found the courage to jump, paired with Miguel.

Finally, only Y/N and Luke remained. Y/N felt her palms start to sweat.

"Hey," Luke said softly, taking her hand. "We've got this. Just like old times, remember?"

Y/N nodded, memories of their teenage adventures flooding back. "Just like old times," she echoed.

They walked to the edge together, hands clasped tightly. Y/N's heart raced, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.

"Ready?" Luke asked, his eyes locked on hers.

"Ready," Y/N confirmed, surprised to find she meant it.

"On three. One... two... three!"

They jumped.

For a moment, Y/N felt suspended in mid-air, the wind rushing past her. Then they were falling, the water racing up to meet them. She let out a scream that was half terror, half pure joy.

They hit the water with a tremendous splash, the cool ocean enveloping them. As they resurfaced, Y/N found herself laughing, the adrenaline making her feel more alive than she had in years.

"That was amazing!" she exclaimed, turning to Luke.

He was right there, closer than she expected, his eyes bright with excitement and something else. Without thinking, Y/N threw her arms around his shoulders, caught up in the moment.

Luke's arms encircled her waist, pulling her close. The world seemed to slow down, the gentle waves lapping around them as they gazed at each other. Y/N felt herself leaning in, her eyes fluttering closed...

"Hey, lovebirds! Get a room!" Damien's voice boomed from the cliff above, shattering the moment.

Y/N and Luke jerked apart, both laughing somewhat sheepishly. But as they began to swim towards the shore, Luke reached for her hand underwater, giving it a gentle squeeze.

They climbed out of the water together, their fingers intertwined. As they joined the rest of the group, Y/N couldn't help but feel that something had shifted between them. The thrill of the jump, the almost-kiss in the water – it all felt like the beginning of something new. Or perhaps, she thought with a smile, the continuation of something that had never truly ended.

…

The moon hung low over the ocean, casting a silver path across the gentle waves. Y/N stood at the water's edge, toes sinking into the cool sand, lost in thought. She heard footsteps approaching and knew without turning that it was Luke.

"Hey," he said softly, coming to stand beside her. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Y/N took a deep breath, finally turning to face him. "Luke, I... I'm scared."

His brow furrowed with concern. "Of what?"

"Of this. Us. Of hoping for something and then losing it all over again," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luke stepped closer, gently taking her hands in his. "Y/N, look at me."

She raised her eyes to meet his, finding them full of warmth and sincerity.

"I know we've both changed," he began, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. "I still have feelings for you. Strong feelings. Being here, spending time with you again... it's made me realize that I never really got over you."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. "How can you be so sure?"

Luke smiled softly. "Because every day I've spent with you here has felt more right than anything has in years. Because when I look at you, I don't just see the girl I fell in love with in high school. I see the amazing woman you've become, and I'm falling all over again."

Tears pricked at Y/N's eyes. "Luke..."

"I'm not asking for everything all at once," he continued, reaching up to cup her cheek. "We can take it slow, figure things out together. But I know that I want you in my life, Y/N. In whatever way you'll have me."

"I can't go through losing you again,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"Then let me love you," Luke said, his voice fervent. "Let me cherish you. Y/N, I'll kiss the ground you walk on if you ask me to. I'll do anything to have you back in my life."

He cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen. "I know I hurt you before. And I know it's asking a lot to trust me again. But I promise you, if you give me another chance, I'll spend every day making sure you know how much you mean to me."

Y/N leaned into his touch, her fears melting away under the warmth of his gaze. "I want you too," she whispered. "I think I always have."

Luke's smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way she loved. Slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted, he leaned in.

This time, there were no interruptions. Their lips met in a kiss that was soft and sweet at first, then deepened with years of pent-up longing. Y/N wrapped her arms around Luke's neck as he pulled her closer, one hand tangling in her hair while the other rested at the small of her back.

When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, Luke rested his forehead against hers. "I love you, Y/N," he murmured. "I never stopped."

Y/N felt a smile bloom across her face, joy bubbling up inside her. "I love you too, Luke."

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corrieweek · 5 months ago

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❤️ ~ Hello all! ~ ❤️

Come join us in participating in Corrie Week to celebrate the wonderful Courasant Guard! The week will start on October 4th and end on October 10th or Fox Day (10/10)!

With a few months away, we're still setting up prompts for the days so if you are interested and have some ideas send them in through the form! Keep a look out by following the page or listed tags! we will be sending it out this following Monday (July 15th).

We will be using the tags #CorrieWeek and for this year #CorrieWeek2024

Just as a general interest check use the poll below to show us your interest to join!

Our page is always open to questions! Below the cut is more information about the event! VV

Canon characters, OCs, and/or both are all welcome to the party! We just ask that the Corries (Coruscant Guard) be the central point in any: ships, drawings, fics, or any medium you'd like to use.

Speaking of ships, we don't discriminate. Canon x Canon, OC x OC, Non-clone x clone, clone x reader, clone x clone, etc. We love and live for spreading the love for the Guard! ❤️

Hate will not be tolerated on this page or during this event. If you do not enjoy someone's ship you are welcome to curate your online experience - the Back Button is up top. Everyone is welcome, so please be civil. This is going to be a great and fun way to bond with others in the fandom over our favorite characters. So remember: Don't Be A Dick.

** NSFW content will be allowed during this event follow this link to see how to format it! Link to post

We allow all forms of creativity to be posted for the week as long as it follows the prompt for the day!

Artwork - traditional and digital is allowed with a minimum of a refined sketch

Writing - any fics/drabbles/ficlets need a minimum of 100 words

Cosplay - Share your cosplays with us! Please for privacy reasons anything that reveals your face, name, address or any other sensitive information to be covered up. We want this event to be fun and public but also protect and keep everyone's privacy. (Even if you are okay with showing your face please still do so for the event)

Crafts - sewing, metal, wood burning, carving, stamps, scrapbooks, knitting, felt, if you have a craft you love, share it with us!

Moodboards - single or multiple submissions are allowed!

Photography - with cosplay (same privacy rules apply as listed above) or action/lego figures create a scene with your favorite guards!

Mixed - you don't have to stick to just one! For an example if you can or want you can do a fic and a mood board!

If you do not complete a specific prompt or any during the time period, no worries! please still tag us in your works because we'd love to share! ❤️

Thank you for reading and we hope to see you during CorrieWeek!

#CorrieWeek #CorrieWeek2024 #coruscant guard #commander fox #commander thorn #commander thire #commander stone #sergeant hound #star wars #star wars events #fan run event #event week

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haveyouseenthismovie-poll · 1 month ago

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End of month update - September through October 21st

Hello, all! This is the end-of-month update, where I post Tumblr’s current top four films that have received the highest percentage of “yes,” “no,” and “haven’t even heard of this movie” votes. My apologies for this one being so late, but I'm home and settled back in now so this blog will be returning to it's normal schedule shortly. :)

As of today, the top four films with the highest percentage of “yes” votes are:

Finding Nemo (2003) | Shrek (2001) |The Lion King (1994) | Toy Story (1995)

This top four changed through the new addition of Toy Story (1995), which replaced Monsters, Inc. (2001) as the latter fell out of the top four through a re-done poll that replaced it's old stats.

Next, the top four films with the highest percentage of “no” votes are:

Fifty Shades of Grey (2015) | Sausage Party (2016) | Pinocchio (2019) | The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) (2011)

This top four changed through the new addition of The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) (2011), which replaced The Human Centipede (First Sequence) (2009).

Finally, the top four films with the highest percentage of “haven’t even heard of this movie” votes are:

Faat Kiné (2001) | Now Add Honey (2015) | Like a Cat on a Highway (2017) | The Noah (1975)

That’s it for October’s end-of-month update! Remember that you can view last month’s update by clicking here. Additionally, you can view the full ranked Letterboxd lists of movies that have come up on this blog by clicking the following links:

This list is ranked from highest-to-lowest percentage of “yes” votes.

This list is ranked from highest-to-lowest percentage of “no” votes.

This list is ranked from highest-to-lowest percentage of “haven’t even heard of this movie” votes.

Thank you all for your patience with me on this update! The askbox will open again for requests very soon, so keep a look out for the post announcing that. Have a great October!

#text #end of month update

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staytinyville · 8 months ago

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Stay Alive (43)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none

A/N NOT BETA. I am back to writing! I was immensely inspired to go back to finishing this story. I am honestly so close you have no idea. There were only like six chapters left but I really said *haitus*. But no more! Also I got the idea to write an ATEEZ story within this world that is going to be a bit darker tbh. Short fic though. Also This story will be cross-posted to my wattpad so be on the lookout on my tumblr for the link. I have yet to put it up but I will!

Also check out this poll to find out who will be the papas of these 5 babies! Stay Alive Father poll

You didn’t really take into account the way all of the boys would act the moment Hobi told them about what his sister had discovered. You knew they would be shocked–anyone would be the moment someone told them that in the future you were going to have 5 children. Honestly though, you didn’t think they would be more in shock than you were.

“Did she really say 5!? Can jagiya even handle that many?” Taehyung looked at the others with an open mouth, holding Yeontan closely to his chest.

“Taehyung.” The familiar scolded lightly, acting like a parent who was trying to keep their child from saying anything that came to mind.

All 8 of you were making your way through the Big Hit building for a meeting with Bang Nim, now that all the boys got to spend time with their families. While they were scared of letting their boys go again, they all knew that there was a mission to complete and others to bring home. It was something they all discussed with their families–all of who understood the boys reasoning for going back.

“One is going to be mine.” Jin spoke, raising his chin up.

“Ya! How do you know!?” Jungkook gasped, whining over Jin’s statement.

“As the oldest I deserve—”

“You get nothing!” Jimin pouted at Jin’s reasoning, getting the younger boys to agree with him.

A grin overtook your face as you watched them bicker with the oldest of the group. Yoongi and Hobi laughed at the boys, putting in their own opinions on the matter about how it was going to be one of them who would father a child.

It was Namjoon who had butted in to calm down all the others. “She's been with all of us–it could be any of ours.”

“Can she even have our kids? She is human.” Yoongi asked, leaving the question to burn on everyone’s mind.

This started to raise questions within you. It didn’t really cross your mind that the possibility of something happening during the pregnancy would cause problems. You weren’t terrified of the outcome–you knew if things were to go wrong this world had the needed tools and power to help you through it all. But that didn’t mean you still didn’t want to question the idea of it all.

“Will it affect me? That you guys aren't human?” You asked.

“I do not believe so.” Hobi answered. “Interracial—or inter-magical— couples are common in our world. However there is no such thing as mixed creatures. It's the mothers genes the baby is born with.” He explained to you.

“They are the ones who carry the baby so naturally it's their genes that get infused into the babies DNA. For example, Jungkook's mother is a wolf but his father is kumiho.” Namjoon continued.

You turned to the mentioned boy, smiling softly at the aspect of him having fox ears on his head like how Soobin had.

“They aren't really that different.” You said.

“They aren't but because eomma was a wolf, I can shift.” Jungkook smiled at you.

“My parents are full elfs because they are the king and queen. They have rules to follow.” Jin started.

“Same with mine.” Jimin put in. “There aren't many creatures that come from the water who have the ability to shift into a human, so sirens don’t often intermix.”

“So will our children be human?” You asked.

“There aren't really many studies on human and creature children. However, for us, I think it would be our genes. Because our magic is much more overpowering than your human nature.” Namjoon said.

You could understand the logic behind that kind of thinking. You were sure there wasn’t much research on magical creatures having children with humans unless you want to count all those mythological stories about gods having demi children. But even in those kinds of cases they tended to show genes from their godly parents.

It must have been the same in this case. You just hoped nothing happened to both you and the boys if you were to carry their magical babies.

“Super sperm.” You snorted.

“Tokki.” Jungkook scolded playfully.

As you finally reached your designated meeting place, you noticed your grandfather waiting for you all at the door. You immediately perked up, rushing forward to greet him with a hug.

“Grandpa.” You smiled, rubbing his back and he gave you a quick hug.

“How was your trip?” He asked you, looking over all the boys who gleamed with smiles on their faces.

“It was amazing. Everything here is so beautiful. And it's exactly like back home.” You told him.

“Magic has that effect.” The old man grinned.

“Come—I think there are things we need to go over.” He suddenly sighed, giving the boys all a nod of his head as he led all of you into the meeting room.

“Ah!” Bang Nim clapped, coming to stand from his chair.

There were a few other people in the room including Sejin who gave a bow of his head.

“It's good to see you all. You look so much more lively than when you came on the first day.” Bang grinned, patting Jungkook on the back as he was closer.

“We are happy to be back home.” Namjoon spoke up. “Especially with our mate.”

“You have them wrapped around your pinkie.” Bang laughed, giving you a hug which you returned.

As he pulled back, his face suddenly took a somber look. His lips were pursed as he started to speak in a serious tone. “I have discussed some things with your grandfather and we have decided it's best to tell you all the truth.”

“What truth?” Jin asked.

“The reason I put a spell on (Y/N)—and why you were all kidnapped.” Bang spoke slowly.

“What?” You said out loud, looking over at your grandfather.

“As much as I know you'll blame yourself for everything just know it was all in the past and it has led us here. To the boys finding you and bringing you back here.” Bang suddenly started.

He turned to your grandfather, allowing him the room to speak. “(G/N).”

The old man took in a deep sigh before looking at you directly. “When you were a little girl you would always go out and explore the mountains near our home.”

“Yes, I remember that.” You interrupted.

“You had a friend who was your age.” He took a pause, swallowing thickly as he thought about what to say. “A little girl who had been our neighbor for the longest time. Her name was Nabi.”

Yoongi looked over at Hoseok when he heard the name, raising his eyebrows at the boy.

“That's the name she kept saying.” Hobi spoke up, looking at Yoongi who nodded as he remembered the time in the hospital room.

The name kept repeating over and over in your head, but you started to feel frustrated as you couldn’t remember the girl who your grandfather claimed was a close friend of yours. You could remember all of your elementary school friends–even the ones from kinder. But the girl who was named Nabi did not make an appearance.

“I—I don't remember her though.” Your lips trembled, trying hard to find an answer but you couldn’t.

“Because I erased her memory.” Bang answered for your grandfather.

“Was she from our world?” Yoongi asked.

“No.” Bang told him. “She was human, like (Y/N). It was you and her who found the portal to our world. The ones who were found by Hanseol.”

“Hanseol?” Jin questioned.

“When you and Nabi crossed over Hanseol was the one to discover you both.” Bang turned to you. “You don't remember it because I had erased that memory as well.

Bang suddenly took a pause, sighing as he felt his next words heavy on his tongue. “Hanseol, he—he was experimenting on you and Nabi by the time I reached you both. It was too late though.”

“Too late? Too late for what?” You quickly asked, head snapping between your grandfather and Bang Nim.

“Nabi—She didn't make it. Hanseol had done too much to her.” Bang quietly answered.

It was the revelation that left not only you stunned but the other boys as well. Hoseok looked over at Yoongi again, his breath turning shallow as he realized what his sister was talking about. Yoongi had been the only to know about Nabi because of Hobi and now finding out that she had died in his world no less, made him worried about you.

“Then what about me!? How come I survived? Why didn't she?” You shouted.

“You were barely holding on. There was a lot my people had to do to save you.” Bang didn’t seem phased by your shouting but he still spoke softly to you.

“And my memory? Why take it?” Tears started to fall from your eyes, causing Taehyung to pull you into his arms, nudging his head into your neck.

“I told him to.”

You whipped your head over to your grandfather, sniffling at his words. “Why would you do that?”

“You were a child (Y/N). On the verge of dying because some magical creature had been experimenting on you. That poor girl was already gone. I couldn't lose you.” Your grandfather had tears welling in his eyes as he remembered how you looked the day he had found you.

You tried to stop your crying, realizing that things must have been tough for your grandparents at the time. You felt hurt that they never thought to tell you about something like that but you figured they didn’t want to worry you. You knew that whatever it was that man had done to you things were not going to be easy to swallow.

“If you saved (Y/N) then how did Hanseol cross to her world?” Namjoon changed the subject.

“He found out about the portal. We weren't able to catch him at that time so he got away.” Bang answered.

If Hanseol was the one to have found you and Nabi that must have meant it was your fault he found the portal to begin with.

“It was my fault he took the boys and everyone else?” Your nose twitched again, more tears wanting to fall.

“No.” Bang immediately tried to soothe you. “It wasn't. You weren't the one who told him to do it.”

“But I was the one who discovered the portal.” You stressed.

“Beloved, please don't think that.” Jin smoothed his fingers through your hair.

“We could never blame you for anything like that, Princess.” Yoongi calmly told you.

“You were the one who came to save us.” Hobi moved to face you, standing in front.

“It was no coincidence that you did. Someone was out there helping you find Bangtan.” Bang suddenly spoke after hearing what Hobi said.

“Who?” You asked.

“Nabi.” Hobi spoke up after a pause, figuring it all out.

“Nabi?” Jimin raised a brow.

“Jiwoo said there was someone following you around. I was never able to fully use that ability because of my studies being cut off but she was obviously.” Hoseok told you, reminding you about what his sister had told you.

“Nabi is still attached to your soul because of the magic that was in our world.” Hobi began to explain. “The souls of our dead need to have proper rituals or else they will be stuck here. Nabi didn't get that here so she's been with you the whole time.”

“You think she was the one who sent (Y/N) to us?” Jungkook asked quietly, reaching a hand out to you.

“She could have been.” Bang answered.

“You have us all here now.” Namjoon told you.

He turned to Bang Nim with a determined look. “What will we have to do to save everyone?”

Series Masterlist

@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkund, @rln-byg , @singukieee , @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoop , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @thatonedemigodfromseoul , @woozixo,

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the-nobody-tournament · 2 years ago

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tired of tournaments where the well-known characters always win?

this tournament is on an indefinite hiatus, but in the meantime if you want an adoptable contestant of your very own, send me proof of a donation to this fundraiser! the details are in the linked post.

if you're a palestinian trying to escape genocide, yes, i will share your fundraiser. i'll also draw something for you if you ask—just let me know what you want. the art will be sent to you privately for you to do what you want with.

update: currently only sharing vetted fundraisers

well guess what? in this tournament, NO ONE knows the contestants! not even me, the one running the show! all we've got is these little one-note descriptions that look like someone was trying to brainstorm some ocs, but stopped after a single trait or trope!

...huh? what's that?

well folks! apparently, even our contestants themselves don't have any more information about themselves! so what do you say we give them a hand with that? after every round of eliminations, a form will open for each remaining contestant where people can suggest an additional trait for them! the top ten suggestions for each will be put into an inter-poll (not interpol, FUCK the police) where our followers can vote on what gets added to who! the further a contestant gets in the tournament, the more developed they will become!

as for the grand prize, for the contestant that grows above all the others, what else would we give them but a name? that's right! the victor of our little nobody tournament will no longer be a nobody!

there are a few ground rules to keep in mind, of course!

these are nobodies! that means they don't have any links to any existing media! don't send in "firebender" as a trait, or it'll just get ignored! instead, try something media-agnostic like "controls fire!"

i don't want to see any trait submissions that have to do with pedophilia, incest, -isms, cults, or a contestant being an abuser.

fanart and interpretations of characters during the course of the contest are more than welcome! you can tag them with "#nobody tournament 2023" and i'll be sure to reblog! do keep in mind of course that other people won't necessarily see the characters the same way you do, and it's possible that future traits might contradict your original headcanons.

all characters generated by this tournament are the collective property of tumblr, and are free for anyone to do anything with, though i'd appreciate it if you linked back to the tournament so more people can discover it! and whatever you do, i definitely want to see it!

you can view the results of the elimination thus far and those of the trait selection at the provided links! check the #intros tag or the directory to see all the contestants, and you can keep an eye on the bracket at this link!

right now, we're starting off round 3's eliminations!

look through #creations or #headcanons to see things people have made for the tournament! need help or advice for writing a contestant? check #resources or send a request to be tagged under #open questions!

tumblr user @magistius has also put together a fan doc tracking the tournament! you can find a link to the post about it right here!

#nobody tournament 2023 #tournament #tournaments

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halfmoth-halfman · 6 months ago

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Leaving this blog.

With my mini-series finishing up soon, I've decided to leave this blog as well as my AO3 account once it’s finished. This is not a decision I've made lightly, but circumstances have left this a place where I no longer feel safe.

As of now, I won't be deactivating this blog and will be leaving my fics up for anyone who'd still like to read them. I can't say this decision won't change later, but right now I feel that I've put too much work into this blog to simple delete it.

Below the cut is an explanation of why I'm making this decision, and what has been happening on this blog since the end of last year. It's not required to read or anything to understand the gist of this post; it's simply for my own peace of mind knowing that I spoke up about it. There will be topics that are possibly triggering such as harassment, threats, and racism so please mind the warnings and tags.

The mini-series is queued to finish next week, but there will be no more fic polls or wip wednesdays. I'll still be on here to make sure the queue does its job, and maybe post some stuff from my old drafts as a last bit of fun.

I'll have dms tentatively open for the next two-ish weeks for those who'd like to follow my new account, however I will not be answering anything from empty blogs. After that, asks and dms will be turned off, and I won't be coming back to this blog very often, if at all.

I cannot say thank you enough to the wonderful readers I've had and the amazing people I've met. I don't think I would've ever continued writing without your support and friendship. There's nothing I can do to show my appreciation for all of you.

Maybe we'll see each other again. If not, I hope your inspiration is always flowing, and 2024 treats you kindly.

Mothie 💜

Again, TW: rape/death threats, violent racism, repeated harassment, and mental health.

Back in November, I started getting rude, mean-spirited anons. It wasn't anything I was too bothered with because it didn't happen often and, honestly, my inbox gets flooded for a week or so anytime I post about certain topics. I blocked, deleted, reported and moved on thinking whoever it was would get bored and leave.

However, what started as a few rude anons calling me a bitch or stupid turned into a lot of anons being vile and racist which only worsened over the next few months.

I spoke about it in this post (link) near the end of November. In that post, I mentioned that those were the nicer asks and that was not an exaggeration. I have gotten my fair share of shitty anons as seen here (link) when I had to take a break from my blog because of said anons, but I have never gotten the amount of vitriol that I saw in these asks.

When I turned anon off, I started getting even worse messages from empty blogs that would either be blocked or deactivate within a week. When I turned my askbox off, I started getting hateful DMs. When I turned DMs off, it jumped from Tumblr to my other social medias which I had to private, completely avoid, or outright delete.

I got messages attacking my writing, calling me slurs, threatening to find me and rape or kill me, sending me explicit porn and rape videos while insulting my sexuality, and going into gross detail about how much people I interacted with hated me or how I would never be as good as them. I tried to power through it, pretending everything was fine while I pulled away from this blog, from writing, from friends that I loved and talked to every day. Everything about this blog, the fandoms I enjoyed, the people I talked to, made me so anxious because of these constant messages.

I took several breaks while dealing with this in therapy, repeatedly trying to come back and get comfortable on this blog, but within a few days of coming back the messages would start up again, either here or on any of my social medias I tried to unprivate, and I couldn't deal with it.

Only in the last week or two has it started to slow down and stop on a few of my other socials, which is the only reason I even feel comfortable making this post. However, in regards to this blog and my feelings toward it, the damage is done.

I don't think I can ever truly convey how isolating this has been. So many of these messages were about how I've spoken about my struggles as a black woman in fandom, how much of a burden it puts on the people who interact with me, how inferior I am to them and that I am everything that's wrong with fandom.

I felt scared and anxious to talk to anyone about this, especially people mentioned in those messages, out of fear that this harassment would jump to them. There are friendships that I stepped away from that I will never get back because of that. There are friends that I've felt like I was betraying by never telling them about what was happening because I felt too ashamed about letting this get to me.

I constantly worried that making a post like this would feel like, "Oh, Mothie's whining and trauma-dumping into the void about fandom racism again", that those messages would be right and it would force people to feel like they had to support me. Or worse, that people would agree and it would only make things worse. I've wrestled with so much guilt trying to decide to make this post and figure out what to do to make me trust myself again.

Ultimately, I don't think I was wrong for talking about my issues in fandom, and I don't think anything I've said has warranted this kind of harassment. I don’t know the who’s or why’s behind of this, but I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never really know. Truthfully, I'm not sure it even matters at this point. In the end, I think moving on from this blog entirely would be the best thing for me right now.

But, man, does it fucking suck.

This was the blog where I felt comfortable enough to start writing again, to start posting my fics. It's the blog where I met so many friends, got the courage to join new communities, found new hobbies, new music, new things to enjoy in life. It feels silly to say about a blog, but this was a place where I felt like I was able to carve out a space for myself. I put so much work into making it my own, and now the only thing I feel about it is anxious.

Hate messages and threats and racism have always been a part of fandom, and the internet as a whole. I’ve known since I started participating in fandom spaces that it was going to and continue to happen. I've known that I had to have a tough skin, especially if I ever spoke up about problems I faced because no one was going to have my back if I didn't have my own. I thought I had learned how to deal with it, and how to make a safe space for myself. But this goes beyond that. I did not deserve this. No one deserves this.

In some ways, it feels like admitting defeat, like I'm weak or hypocritical for not being as strong as I pretended I was and leaving. In other ways, it feels freeing to start over, and I'm choosing to view look at this optimistically even if it bittersweet. I don't want to let this scare me away from writing or from speaking about things that are important to me. All I can do now is say I'm so incredibly sorry to those I've hurt by stepping away or keeping this secret, and make sure I'm able to at least leave this blog on as happy a note as I can have.

#moth talks #tw: rape #tw: racism #tw: mental health #tw: misogyny #tw: harassment #tw: death threats

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aces-and-angels · 5 months ago

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verification source | verification source disclaimer: i do not vet/verify gfm campaigns myself. i can only share campaigns that have already been vetted by other individuals. (i.e. el-shab-hussein, nabulsi, 90-ghost, etc.). nesma's campaign has been vetted by sayruq, nabulsi, and el-shab-hussein (proof of verification linked)

for those able, please consider donating to nesma's campaign here:

current stats: $65,702/$80,000

regardless of your ability to donate- please read the following below the cut. thank you🖤

///

hello friends~ i would like to take a moment of your time to highlight the following gfm campaign for @nesmamomen. nesma has recently reached out to me through my inbox asking me to help spread the word about her campaign. here is the beginning of her message (text is also included in image description):

nesma story starts similarly to what i think many of us here can relate to: a 23 year old student gearing up to finish their degree. in nesma's case, her final year studying IT (information technology). for years- she has worked hard to make her family, 12 members in total + the best cat: lucy and the best bird: koko, proud. her home was full of love and joy- precious memories that are near and dear to her heart. however, nesma's joy has turned into unimaginable horror and immense suffering beyond our comprehension.

and it's been that way for almost one year.

at every turn, she has desperately tried to get people to listen to her story. to have the words 'help me' not be enough- to need to constantly validate yourself in order for people to care- only to be silenced is nothing short of deplorable. as nesma mentioned in her message: her account has been repeatedly suppressed. (the first verification link shows her old account)

the rest of her message to me contains some graphic imagery of the current state of her family. multiple members are injured. her father is in desperate need of medical care. her younger siblings sustaining wounds no child should ever have to bear. just reading all of that would make someone want to fall into a pit of despair. i am here to implore you to look beyond that grief and push against those feelings of hopelessness. we have been conditioned to turn away. conditioned to believe that there is nothing that can be done.

nesma's message alone is proof enough that there is hope. you reading her story, as devastating as it is, is enough to know that she and her family still need help. they still need us to be their voice in a time of crisis. because they are still alive. and it is up to the rest of us to make sure they get the chance to truly live.

to quote nesma herself:

"I do not know whether I will survive or die in this war, but know that your help for me will contribute to saving my family from death."

please follow nesma on her social media (@/nesmamomen on tumblr). she also has an instagram linked in her gfm page. please learn nesma's story in her own words- not mine- and read the campaign yourself. linking it again so you don't have to scroll all the way back up:

if you made it to the end: congrats! you've unlocked a secret poll ✨

#nesmamomen #not choices #signal boost #i hope this message reaches you nesma🖤#🍉#yall feel free to leave some love in the tags when you share this #not sure how much she'll see but it doesnt hurt to spread some love from your home to hers #art campaign boost

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sundays-sims · 8 months ago

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× NAVIGATION ×

patreon | TOU | instagram | download section

× FAQ ×

“This link is broken or doesn’t exist anymore” and “Where can I find X set”

head over my blog’s download section to have access to a list of all my free content; this is an easy-to-navigate list, with direct download links (mediafire or patreon) & includes all my older sets that had broken links.

→ download section ←

“This bed is broken”

when the game adds new features through updates, it can break certain type of content; to update my beds & have them work properly again, you will need to re-download them here :

→ beds update ←

“Where can I download your builds?”

my builds & rooms are not available for downloads because I do not keep them myself. I usually create simple rooms only to showcase my content & take pictures, I then delete them.

“What ReShade/GShade do you use & where can I download it?”

my GShade presets are all my own personal presets. I think that one’s preset is such nice way to add a unique touch to pictures & I won’t share any of my presets for that reason.

“Do you allow recolors & conversions to other Sims games?”

yes. I allow recolors & conversions (to Sims games ONLY), as long as my content is already released for free & out of early access. For more information, please read my terms of use;

→ terms of use / t.o.u ←

“I just downloaded X set, and my game won’t start”

this can happen for a few reasons; your game isn’t up to date, you have a lot of duplicate packages, or files got corrupted while downloading. If you download a lot of fully finished builds with merged cc (or into different files), you could end up with a lot of duplicates of the same object. This could cause your game to be slower or even not start at all. Secondly, downloading a lot of files at the same time, especially on patreon, seems to be causing problems & corrupting files. The corrupted files will cause your game to either crash at start or give you an error message. Try taking the last files you downloaded out of your Mod folder and re-downloading the set, or sets, only one part at the time. This seems to always work for me. My content is tested by multiple people (and me) before uploading & I would not upload broken content. If you are facing issues with an older set of mine, it is most likely a problem that occurred while downloading or with your game/mod folder. I am always happy to help when it comes to my content, but I will not “fix” any other creator’s content. In short, make sure to check for: - batch fix (e.g. broken beds updates) - game updates - cc duplicates - corrupted files Lastly, if you did all the above, and are still having problems, do not hesitate to send me a direct message (DM). When it comes to troubleshooting, I will not answer comments below posts for the simple reason that it makes it difficult to have a conversation. Going back and forth with replies into a comment section makes it too difficult since it will most likely require going through a few steps to solve any further issues.

"Do you do commission work?"

no, I dont. I often take suggestions or make small polls on my social media (insta & patreon), feel free to follow me & participate in those, send me pictures of things you like etc.

"Are you WCIF friendly?"

yes. I will do my best to remember where it was from, but since I don't keep any builds in my game, it can sometimes be difficult. Also, please note that I often write a small WCIF section at the end of my posts, take the time to read all the way down!

Thank you all for being here, supporting my work & taking the time to read.

S. xx

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brineoffire · 1 month ago

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Next day of my schedule is a fic update! BTW I'll pin my posting schedule after my poll finishes!

Chapter 3 of Wings and Wires!

Previous chapter link

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Around you many of his guests stare and you all but ignore all of them. You keep your chin up, staring at the rafters once again. Do exactly what you were trained to do. Grit and bare the looks you get and the hands of your owner that trail over your knee and thigh absentmindedly. You've dealt with this over and over again, and you'll continue to deal with it as long as you're here. As long as you belong to Alphonso.

The worst part of it all was still when he allowed his associates to touch you. When he let them line up to get their hands on you. Greedy hands brushing through the fur on your wings and tail. Those closer to him he allows more intimate touches. Those more important guests are able to see you as you strip off your fancy silks and satins. Left in nothing but your tight underwear, lacy tank top and short briefs that lay low on your waist.

He usually leads them, pulling you down to your knees by the chains on your muzzle or collar. Keeping you between his legs he allows them to run their hands over your exposed body. They rub over where scales meet flesh, too many fingers tangling in the streak of fur that follows your spine. A select few would slide eager fingers over and into the edges of your underwear. Those touches still sent a chill down your spine and the sting of bile up the back of your throat.

It's easy to recall the time you first fell into Alphonso's hands. The first few months he kept you all to himself, breaking you in as you fought back. Heavy chains and straps always kept him just out of reach of your claws. In those times he kept your mouth fully covered with muzzles made fully of steels and metals, your teeth would snap behind them uselessly. For two months you fought him, each time your punishments getting worse and worse.

Bindings tightened. Dark rooms where he kept you isolated and hungry. When your fits had been at their worst he'd have you pinned down, your limbs immovable. He knew the slowest and most painful way to remove scales, claws, and fangs. Always pulling from the same spot after they'd regrow, relishing in your extra pain from the fresh growth. It broke you down after the third month. Three months of blood and tears. Three months of sobbing and anger. Three months of being forced into a mold to become the perfect pet for the mafia head.

You had no one to get back to after all. Your family would be the first ones to pay the price if you ever actually escaped. There was no love lost there, but you understood what happened. Understood the bleakness of all of your futures if Alphonso didn't get exactly what he wanted. So you played the role he forced you into. Became his attack dog, his lap cat. Followed every order to the letter ro win his praise.

Now here you are, sitting in his lap like the pet you've become. Answering every one of his demands no matter how outrageous just to avoid his wrath. It's easier now to ignore the eyes, the hands, the cold voices talking about you like an animal. You've spent so long tuning it all out while he totted you around, just like you do now, staring up at the rafters as if they were bars to the cage your life has become.

When everything from your sleep to your exercise has been dictated it's easy to fall into an autopilot. You've gotten to a point where you can tune out all voices but his, can focus only on his scent, but today is different. Somewhere on the edge of your consciousness you feel a pull. A little tug that threatens to pull your focus back to your surroundings and onto something other than Alphonso’s call. More than a scent, or a voice, it's something that tugs on your mind itself, pulling you to look in the direction of the other dragon and his harpy.

Your vision comes back into focus and you can't help but slowly glance that way. When your eyes finally settle on them again it confuses you to see concern from the bigger man, his brow furrowed even more as he watches you carefully. The harpy conceals it well, no one else would notice, but you see anger, though it's not directed at you. Following the line of his vision you know he's looking past you, at Alphonso. You know that sense is somehow coming from both of them, and you're about to give into it, about to turn to look at them directly, when Alphonso clears his throat and has your full attention.

Your eyes shift back to his face as you watch him talk. He thanks the crowd for attending and rattles on about his plans. Letting them know a vague outline of his manufacturing, subtle details and hints mean those who know the plans are reassured and those who shouldn't are kept in the dark. He has your full attention as he talks yet you feel that same odd sense again. That same pulling desire to give your attention to the two men across the dining room. For now you keep yourself in line and focused on Alphonso.

His speech finishes and the crowd claps lightly. In your peripherals you catch a blur of movement, and you know exactly what it is. Snapping your head towards the source you react in a split second. Launching yourself off the seat, using your wings to lift your weight off Alphonso before springing into action. A gunman rushes forward, shotgun in hand as they sprint to get a good shot.

You’re used to these attempts by now, though what you’re not used to is a smaller blur of movement. The gunner stumbles forward, their speed broken as one of their knees buckles forward, a gasp of surprise leaving their mouth as you continue to bound towards them. Grabbing the gun’s barrel you knock it upwards, kicking at its wielder's chest with enough force to drop them backwards. They cling onto their weapon desperately but you slam the butt of their gun into their face hard enough for them to lose their grip.

As they fall you press a knee to their chest, your wings flaring backwards as you drive your weight into them. Your clawed hands dig into their shoulders and they cry out in pain as your thumbs dig into their neck hard enough to draw blood. You hear Alphonso laughing loudly and clapping as you glare down at the would-be assassin.

“Well now ladies and gentlemen! Isn't this nice? Dinner and a show!” You hear mummers mixed with a few chuckles around you as your focus stays on your quarry. They struggle in vain under you, calloused hands gripping at your wrists as they squirm fruitlessly. Out of the corner of your eye you catch something falling from behind the leg they stumbled on. Something thin and pointed, made up of several brown shades with a slight glint of red.

Behind you Alphonso's footfalls ring out as he gets closer to you, his hand falling on your head, patting you.

“Good boy.” He raises his arm, a signal for his regular guards to approach as he laughs again.

“You fucking idiots never learn do you?” Your grip only loosens once the guards have their shoulders, yanking them to their feet roughly. Your tail subtly slides over what you now see is a feather. While the attention is on the assassin you deftly slide it under a scale on your tail, hiding it just under your fur. You can almost feel its owners' eyes boring into you, but you keep your focus on the task at hand.

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