#that includes anyone I added on Sky. >:]

[angrybatgaming]

Once again, you know I had to. X]

[tetragonia]

It Almost Worked

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

One summer night. Two knees touching each other. Three hours in conversation. Four logs burning bright on the bonfire. Five best friends having fun. Something almost worked.

warning: nothing, really. no use of (y/n), just pure fluff

note: this was in Season 1-ish, where the Pogues were just Kie and the boys. just a feel-good fic, knowing what we got in Season 4^_^

words: 1.2k

The night was warm, the stars were scattered across the Outer Banks sky like salt crystals tossed over midnight silk. You sat in a circle around the bonfire with John B, Kiara, Pope, and JJ, laughing and trading stories, all of you just on the edge of exhaustion from a long day out on the water. A gentle breeze swept through, carrying with it the salt and wildness of the ocean. It was mid-July and you wanted it to stay like that forever, just the five of you, having the most fun.

JJ sat next to you, his hair tousled and glowing faintly in the firelight, and his laughter mingled with yours as John B recounted a story. He leaned forward, face animated in the flickering light.

“So there we were, okay?” he began, grinning like he’d just cracked open a treasure chest. “Pope’s convinced that we’re being followed, right? He’s looking over his shoulder every two seconds, nearly tripping over his own feet!”

Pope rolled his eyes but stayed silent, clearly waiting for the punchline. Kiara smirked, already skeptical.

“So you guys are just… walking in circles?” she asked, eyebrow raised. John B laughed.

“Well, we thought we were being stealthy, but turns out, we circled around so many times, we ended up right back where we started!”

“Right back in front of Mrs. Callahan’s house,” Pope added, deadpan. “You know, the woman who called the cops on us last summer?”

Kiara shook her head, looking between John B and Pope with pure disbelief. “Wait, you mean to tell me you spent, what, an hour thinking you were outsmarting someone — just to wind up exactly where you started?”

“Hey, hey!” JJ jumped in, clapping to support John B. “They were clearly being hunted, Kie. Expert survival instincts, alright? It’s called evasion.”

You were clutching your stomach, laughing so hard your sides hurt as JJ kept trying to hype up the story with exaggerated nods and dramatic hand gestures.

“Oh, please,” you choked out, trying to catch your breath. “This is the same group that got lost on the mainland, and that was in broad daylight!”

John B threw up his hands in mock offense, “Okay, so maybe we didn’t exactly outsmart anyone. But come on! Admit it, we kept it interesting.”

Everyone erupted in laughter once again at the silly story. It was one of those moments where you felt like time had stopped; there was just the fire, the night, and the warmth of friends.

When everyone was busy laughing, you felt JJ shifted beside you, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out, his knee brushing against yours. The touch was so light, it could’ve been accidental, but he didn’t move it away. Neither did you.

Instead, you let the heat from his knee sink into yours, feeling a strange thrill at the proximity. It was something you’d been noticing more lately—the quiet moments where JJ was just close enough that you could feel him without touching him. And yet, tonight, there was something in the air. Maybe it was the firelight, or maybe it was the feeling of summer hanging heavy and endless, but you were painfully aware of him beside you.

“You guys remember that time we almost got stranded on Midsummers?” JJ’s voice was low, and he grinned, his eyes glancing toward you before drifting back to the group. “I thought for sure we’d end up spending the night in those marshes.”

“Thanks to your brilliant plan,” Pope said with a smirk, leaning forward. “What was it you said again? ‘Who needs a map when you have instinct?’”

Everyone laughed, JJ included, but you felt his knee press a little more firmly against yours, a slight nudge, like he was daring you to react. You met his eyes across the fire, and he raised his eyebrows, just barely, like he was challenging you. You knew that look—it was the one he used right before he did something reckless.

The fire crackled, and JJ leaned closer, his shoulder almost brushing yours now.

“Guess I can’t always get things right,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Almost doesn’t count,” you replied softly, giving him a playful nudge. But he just smiled, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat longer than it should. Your heart skipped, and you forced yourself to look away, but it didn’t stop the flush from creeping up your neck.

“Hey, you two! What are you whispering about over there?” Kiara’s voice cut through the moment, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She’d noticed the space between you and JJ, or rather, the lack of it.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, glancing away and picking at the edge of a log. But JJ, never one to let a moment pass, smirked and tilted his head toward her.

“Just talking about how close you were to breaking that table at Midsummers last year,” he teased, deflecting with his usual charm.

“Oh, shut up, Maybank,” Kiara shot back, but her smile betrayed her amusement.

The conversation drifted back into laughter and teasing, yet JJ didn’t move. His knee was still pressed against yours, his arm brushing yours every so often as he laughed, his hand nearly grazing your own.

Finally, John B and Pope started talking about some ridiculous theory about the treasure, but you were barely listening. You felt hyper-aware of every breath JJ took, every subtle movement he made beside you. You turned your head, meaning to tell him something about the stars, or the fire, or anything to ease the tension building between you.

But then you caught the look in his eyes — something deeper, softer, something that made your heart beat a little faster.

“You know,” he said, his voice just a murmur, “this was a good night.”

You felt yourself smiling despite the heat, despite the way his gaze was making it hard to breathe. “Yeah, it was,” you replied, just as softly.

For a split second, it felt like everything else disappeared — the fire, the laughter of your friends, even the stars. There was just JJ, his blue eyes meeting yours, a small, hesitant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned just slightly closer, his shoulder brushing yours.

The air between you crackled, charged with all the words neither of you had spoken, all the things you hadn’t allowed yourself to admit. He tilted his head, his lips a mere breath away from yours, close enough that you could feel his breath warm against your cheek. And for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you. For a moment, you thought everything was about to change.

But then, he pulled back just slightly, the playful smirk returning to his face, though his eyes were softer, his voice almost a whisper.

“Almost,” he said, and you swore you heard a hint of regret in his tone.

Your heart dropped and soared all at once, caught in the tension of what could have been. You gave him a small, bittersweet smile, and replied, “Almost.”

He chuckled, looking away with that familiar ease, but you knew that he felt it too. The unspoken tension hung heavy between you, an acknowledgment of the connection you both felt but couldn’t quite act on.

As the firelight flickered, casting shadows across the beach, the two of you sat in silence, close but not quite close enough. And though neither of you said a word about it, you knew—tonight was the night that it almost worked.

[lefteagleblizzard]

ℌ𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔦𝔡𝔢 Mike Munroe x male reader

Summary: A request that i received: “before everything happened, Mike took a "friend" to accompany him to the cabin or something and this friend reveals himself as Mike's boyfriend in a scandalous way with a focus on what the reaction of others would be and maybe how this would affect the future.”

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Secret relationship. Jealousy. Angst. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Dom Mike Munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex.

ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

Words count: 4500

The lodge was perched like a secret at the top of the snow-crusted mountain. Josh's voice had been bright over the phone when he invited you. Chris added some dorky joke that made Josh wheeze with laughter in the background and you knew they were just trying to include you and assist in your attempt to break out of your shell, or whatever fucking metaphor they wanted to pin on your anxiety.

You didn't say no. You should have, but you didn't. It wasn't that you hated the idea of fun like some cold-blooded loner skulking in the corner of the party, arms crossed, music too loud.

No, it wasn't that at all. It was him. The reason you spent the first three hours of the trip practically holding your breath, faking smiles that split at the edges, pulling your beanie lower so you wouldn't have to meet anyone's eyes.

Because how the fuck were you supposed to pretend? How were you supposed to watch him laugh and flex every person in the room like you didn't know the exact cadence of his breath when he came, the way his tone shifted when he whispered your name the second you two were alone?

You were Mike Munroe's boyfriend and no one knew. Now, in this thick wooden lodge that smelled like pine and old whiskey and snow- damp clothes drying by the fireplace, it felt like everyone in the room wanted him.

Emily had latched onto him the moment you stepped through the door of the big lodge, her perfectly manicured nails dragging down his arm like she'd branded it. Her laugh was loud, effortless, too loud, pitched too perfectly for every half-ass joke Mike made. She sat too close. Touched too much. Her eyes flicked to you once, just once, and dismissed you the way someone might dismiss a stain on a shirt-something unworthy, something in the way.

Jessica wasn't better. If Emily acted like she already had him, Jessica acted like she'd earn him. Every flip of her hair, every giggle, or the way she bit her lip when Mike so much as looked in her direction. It felt like needles under your skin, a hot, ugly truth trying to crawl out of your throat and scream that he's taken.

And sweet stammering Hannah, with those big eyes and pink cheeks and the way she looked at Mike like he hung the stars in the sky. She never threw herself at him. But it was obvious in every shy glance. Everyone knew Hannah liked Mike and they all let it be like it was just a natural fact of life.

Here in this big house every step felt like walking on cracked glass. You were the one who'd kissed him first, trembling in your dorm room as Mike kissed you back like he'd been dying for it.

Now you were just "one of the guys," a friend, a tag-along. Something less than a shadow. You watched Mike grin as he slung an arm around Emily's shoulder for a photo. You forced yourself to laugh when Josh teased Mike about how many girls he'd pull this week. You felt every second of it like a slow, sharp twist between your ribs.

He met your eyes across the room, once and it wasn't enough.

His eyes held regret, guilt, fear, you had no clue. All it did was remind you that you were the secret, the locked drawer in his chest no one else was allowed to open. The thing he tucked away when the lights were on, when the others were around.

You weren't even angry. Not really. You were just tired of feeling like a crime scene or something shameful and hidden. Your chest ached in a dull, familiar way, like bruises forming over old scars.

Josh and Chris had long since passed out downstairs, the competitive fire of their third whiskey-fueled "rematch" sputtering out in snoring heaps. Their absence had stripped the room of even a thin veil of decency.

You were now surrounded by the people you were supposed to be calling friends, laughter a little too sharp, smiles too curved as they plotted something that made your stomach churn.

Emily's gasp was loud and dramatic, her hand flying to her mouth with faux shock. "You did bot just do that!" she cackled.

Ashley snorted behind a cupped hand, Matt beside her looking half-aware, fingers tapping mindlessly against his leg.

"Maybe we shouldn’t do that," Sam began, voice uncertain.

"No, no, come on," Emily interrupted, spinning around on her socked heels. "Hannah's had, what? Years? Years to grow a spine and confess to Mike. And now I want him and she knows it. So what's she doing?" Her voice pitched up like she was telling a joke. "Still simpering around him like some little wounded deer."

"And we're supposed to just let her? I’m just looking out for my bestie." Jess added with a grin that didn't reach her eyes.

Sam sat beside you in the armchair, her body close, caim, something grounding in the storm of this bullshit. She didn't say anything at first. She didn't have to.

Your eyes had caught on it without realizing that she was drawing you. The way her pencil moved, the curve of your brow shaded with delicate strokes. She wasn't hiding it. Her sketchbook was cracked open like a window, showing the version of you she saw.

One quiet, pensive, maybe even strong. It felt like a lie

Your voice felt thin when you spoke

"Guys," you tried, lifting your head, "I really don't think this is a good idea."

Jess glanced at you, her eyes narrowing with curiosity, lips twitching into a crooked grin.

"Let me ask you something," she said, slowly standing, moving closer like a snake. swaying just before it strikes. "If a friend of yours showed interest in someone you liked, would you really be okay with that?"

Her tone was light, but the edge razor. There was heat under her skin. A charge in her words.

Your heart skipped a beat. That wasn't a hypothetical. That was loaded. It was too pointed. Too precise.

You opened your mouth, closed it again, the words catching in your throat like dry glass.

She suspected something.

You shifted in your seat, glancing around the room like maybe someone else had caught It, but no one did. Emily was too busy twirling a strand of hair around her finger and beaming at what was gonna happen. Ashley offered a little "mmmhm" of agreement. Sam stiffened at your side.

"I get it,” you muttered, voice tight. "Hannah probably shouldn't be acting that way with Mike. But humiliating her like this? It's not like you can control who you're into."

Jess's expression twitched, her brows lifting slightly at your words, like she heard what you meant, not what you said.

You hadn't meant for it to sound personal. But it was hard when the person in question—your man—was across the room, sitting in that big leather armchair like some movie star.

Emily crossed the room in two easy steps, all hips and calculated charm, her arms opening in a theatrical flourish. "Just because he's class president doesn't mean he's everyone's man," she said, loud and clear, meant to be heard. "Mike is my man."

Mike glanced in your direction, sharp and fast, like his body moved without his permission. Your eyes locked and in that second, you saw the crack in his armor. The guilt.

It was in the flex of his fingers against the leather. The way his mouth twitched, not into a smirk, just tightened. A breathless second passed before he moved, rising to his feet as though pulled up on strings.

Emily spun beneath his raised arm like a fairytale version of herself, hair flipping, cheeks flushed with the thrill of feeling chosen. Your gaze dropped to the carpet, stomach twisting.

You missed the moment he looked at you again.

Mike saw your head down and his stomach turned over with something hot and cold at once. He suddenly hated himself for playing along.

Finally, he let her hand go. Let it fall back to her side like it had never belonged there in the first place.

"Hey, Em." His voice was low, firm and measured. "I'm not anyone's man."

The ache in your chest had already bloomed into something bigger, like being filled up with wet cement. You couldn't move or breathe around it.

Sam stood beside you, quiet and tense, her sketchbook closed now, hands tight around it. She leaned in, her breath tickling the shell of your ear.

"Please," she whispered. "Convince them to stop. This isn't right."

She walked out with purpose, calling for Hannah like she could still fix this.

Mike stepped in like a sigh of relief and a punch to the gut.

"Okay, okay," he said smoothly, a grin already curving his lips, charm dripping from him like heat off asphalt. One hand, strong and practiced fell lightly on Jess's shoulder, his fingers flexing just enough to steer her back with that calm, casual command he wielded like a weapon. "Let's all calm down, yeah?"

His voice was honeyed, warm, light, teasing and natural; it barely even sounded like he was defusing tension.

The rest of the room faded for you as Mike shifted, stepping in too close to you and the heat of him folded around you like gravity. His eyes caught yours and there was that softness again, that version of him that never showed up unless you were alone.

Both his hands lifted to your arm, settling on your bicep, palms warm through the fabric of your shirt. Thumbs brushing slow, rhythmic, like he was grounding you.

"Relax, alright?" he murmured, voice low enough that it barely carried, intimate in a way that made your spine straighten and your throat tighten. "No one's gonna do anything crazy.”

And god, his face so close you could see the gold flecks in his irises, the way his lashes dipped low over his gaze as he studied you.

You turned your face hard and sudden, your shoulder twisting away from his hands before you even realized you were doing it and you left.

Fast.

The air in the hallway hit you like ice-thinner, cleaner. Your heart was pounding, slamming against your chest like it was trying to outrun what just happened.

You didn't look back, your legs moved on their own until you found Sam halfway down the hallway, already scanning rooms like she didn't know whether she wanted to kick a door in or cry.

"I'll help," you said, voice tight and low

Her eyes turned to you and the relief was palpable. Her shoulders sagged, mouth parted in a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Thank you," she said and it wasn't just gratitude, she looked concerned and scared for her best friend.

"I'm gonna check her room first," she added, nodding toward the end of the hall.

Then she paused briefly to glance over your shoulder before marching down the hallway.

Your footsteps had barely started echoing down the hallway when a sudden pressure at your waist stopped you. The heat of a body behind you, close enough to steal the breath from your throat.

It was the kind of grip you knew too well, the kind that had once held you against a mattress in the dark, panting, whispered against your neck like a secret: mine.

You turned slowly, heart pounding, breath catching in your throat and there was Mike.

His hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing in a small, slow stroke against the fabric of your hoodie.

"Hey," he said, quiet, pitched low, rough at the edges. "Everything okay?"

His grin spread, charming and warm almost too much. Like he was trying to compensate for what just happened in that room.

But you didn't answer right away. You just looked at him and something in your chest cracked. Your face twitched automatically. A smile bloomed at the corners of your mouth.

The kind of smile people to say everything's fine when everything is fucking broken. It didn't reach your eyes and it tore through Mike like a slow moving bullet.

It was all you could give him and it broke him.

“You… sure about that?" His eyes searched yours. "Cause that smile's the biggest load of bullshit I've seen since Chris telling everyone he was gonna win."

You almost laughed but your throat was too tight.

You swallowed hard. "I'm fine," you said.

He tilted his head, a tiny, frustrated huff slipping from his nose. "That's strike two, baby."

The nickname hit you like a gut punch because he never said it out here.

"You keep lying to me like that," he said, his voice dipping lower, thick and so close to a growl. "I'm gonna have to do something about it."

He tried to laugh, stepping closer to get rid of the space between you, the scent of him wrapping around you instantly. Spice, pine, the leftover sweetness of that expensive cologne he only wore when he wanted to impress you. His hand at your waist slid a fraction higher, slow and deliberate. Fingers dragging along the hem of your hoodie.

His other hand rose, fingers brushing just under your jaw, thumb gliding over the soft skin beneath your ear while his gaze dropped to your mouth.

His voice dropped, thick with suggestion and something darker, hotter beneath the tease. "Need some help to relax?"

His grin was there, lopsided and full of the usual boyish charm he was equipped with.

His lips landed on your cheek with a ridiculous sound, exaggerated and playful.

"Mike!" you hissed, voice cracking, cheeks flushing hot as your eyes darted past his shoulder like some part of you still had enough self-preservation to worry.

But he didn't give a shit or even pretend to stop.

Another kiss landed, higher this time and nearer to your cheekbone. Another just under your eye. Then one at the corner of your mouth, so fucking close and his laughter spilled out, rich and warm and filled with mischief.

"Shit," he chuckled against your skin, "you still get this shy, huh?"

His lips lingered more with each kiss, hungrier. Your skin was at this point flushed hot, tingling beneath each wet press of his mouth and that was all the confirmation he needed.

He kept going with slow kisses against your neck now, breath hot against your throat as he chased the pulse hammering there. Your voice came again, small and flat, barely a whisper

"Mike… quit it." But it wasn't the way you usually said it. Not full of laughter or breathy affection. There was a dullness to it, heavy and tired, eyes locked down at the floor like it could hide the truth leaking out of your mouth.

Mike's jaw flexed. He bit the inside of his cheek, irritation blooming in his chest, never at you, but at the ache in your voice and at the silence he'd let grow between you.

His grip shifted, stronger now, hand sliding from your waist to your wrist as he walked backward and pulled you with him, not stopping when you offered the barest resistance, not even hesitating. He reached the first nearby door, shoved it open with the heel of his boot and yanked you in.

The soft click of the latch felt like a gunshot. Then your back hit the door with a low thud, Mike's body pressing against you, crowding you against the wood.

You gasped, barely audible and to Mike it sounded like a green light.

Your breath came in fast pants, shallow and shivery as his chest pressed firm to yours. His nose brushed your temple, hair tickling your cheek. Heat poured off from him like a furnace, sweat beginning to build where your skin touched, clothes sticking.

You were mentally somewhere else and he didn't like that.

His lips dragged slow along the edge of your jaw, hot and wet and deliberate, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting his breath linger on every patch of skin he painted with his tongue. He scraped you gently with his teeth, kissed where it hurt.

He groaned low against your throat, grinding forward again as if to underline the problem he was dealing with in his pants. His voice was rough velvet as he mumbled against your lips, a grin curling up as he kissed the corner of your mouth. "You not in the mood or somethin'?"

A teasing bite to your bottom lip. Light and testing.

Your hesitation was too long but you did answer. Quietly.

"It's not that…"

A wicked smirk twitched onto his lips like a reflex. "So you do wanna fuck,” he murmured.

You grinned barely. Small. Brief. But it was there. A twitch of heat in your expression.

Mike exhaled through his nose, just a bit, his forehead still pressing against yours as his hands cupped your jaw. One thumb stroked over your cheek. His voice was softer now, lower but still thick with heat, brushing your lips with every word.

"What's goin' on inside that pretty head, huh?" he murmured. He didn't stop holding you. Didn't pull back. His breath was hot on your lips, mouth parted and kiss-swollen, but he waited. Waited for you to give him something real.

You swallowed hard. Your throat worked, voice caught there behind the burn and weight of your emotions but you forced it out anyway.

"I just… I feel like your friends don't really like me. Y'know?"

A pause.

"And there's so many people here who think of you as a prize, Mike. It makes me feel like this isn't even real."

Mike didn't flinch, something in him snapped. His fingers curled under your chin and tilted your face up. His eyes burned into yours, all lazy charm gone. Gone Replaced with something raw, possessive and protective.

“I hate that you feel this way. I know that i joke too much and play it cool out there. I should’ve told them weeks ago.”

He pulled you back by the shoulders so he could look at you again.

“What we have it's not fragile. It's messy, yeah, sometimes stupid. But I wouldn't risk this for anything."

You felt your chest tighten. Mike leaned in again, his mouth brushing yours.

"And come on. You think I'd be this hard for anyone else?" he breathed, grinding slowly again against your thigh, his girth dragging along your body with every word. "Think I'd be losing my fucking mind if you weren't here? You drive me crazy, baby. No one else does that. That's what you do to me, baby. Every fucking time."

His mouth found your neck again, licking a slow stripe up your throat before biting, hard enough to make you hiss.

Your head fell back against the door with a thud. He pressed up against you harder and your legs parted instinctively, hips canting forward to meet the roll of his.

His beard scratched at your skin, deliciously rough, the friction sending shocks through your spine as he groaned low and deep, the sound vibrating through you.

"You know how long I've wanted to have you like this tonight?" he whispered, voice cracking with need. "Back in that room… I saw the way you looked at me when I didn't say shit. And I hated myself for making you feel like you were nothing."

His teeth grazed your neck and you whimpered, in turn earning a chuckle from him, kissing that sound right off your throat.

"I missed the way you sound when I'm deep inside you and you're trying not to beg." His hand left your ass only to return lower this time, pushing between your thighs, cupping you through your jeans, palm rough and equipped with fingers spreading wide.

"You remember last week?" he breathed. "When you were on your knees in the locker room for me? We couldn't even wait to get home. Had your mouth wrapped around my cock in no time, eyes all wide like a good slut."

You shuddered. Fuck. He was right. "I couldn't even keep quiet," he groaned, grinding into you again, cock jerking between you. "Had to bite my damn fist so I wouldn't moan your name loud enough to echo."

He pressed his forehead to yours now, eyes burning into you, pupils blown out while his hand stid up your shirt, hot and possessive, dragging against your abdomen, past your chest, fingers grazing a nipple to watch you twitch.

Your jeans were shoved past your thighs with no patience, letting them crumple around your ankles as he kissed you like a starving animal, teeth that took hold of your lower lip and tugged before he ducked down to kiss a path along your throat, biting, sucking and marking.

You tilted your head back, hissing through clenched teeth. His fingers dipped between your cheeks, spreading and pressing against your hole through your underwear before impatiently hooking the thin material to drag it down.

You gasped when a familiar intrusion was detected, knees buckling, hands flying to the back of his head, grabbing messy fists of his hair as he groaned into you.

He spit directly onto his hand to breach you, working you open with slow, calculated thrusts that had your thighs shaking.

"Fuck, Mike—”

"Yeah?" he panted, eyes dark as he looked down at you. "What's that, baby? Need more?"

Another finger slid up, two of them now pressing against your hole, slicked from his spit and pushed in together. You choked on your own moan, head slamming back against the wall as your hole fluttered around him.

"God, fuck," you breathed, nails digging into his scalp.

"That's it," he groaned. "Squeeze me, baby. Fuckin' love how tight you are."

He fingered you hard with deep thrusts, curling his fingers to rub that spot inside you he knew would make you whimper.

There was barely any time to blink before he spun you around and bent you over the side of the bed, chest to the sheets, ass high, hole wet and ready. You heard the rustle of fabric, his jeans and boxers shoved down in one frantic motion.

The head of his cock landed against your hole, hot and thick and leaking, smearing pre all over your rim.

You pushed back instinctively, desperate, whining. Mike gripped your hip, hard enough to bruise and shoved in.

One hard, brutal thrust and he was buried to the hilt, thick cock stretching you open so fast it burned.

You shouted, voice caught between pain and need and he groaned loud behind you, head dropping forward.

"Fuuuck-God, you take it so good," he panted.

He started fucking you the second you gave him the signal you were ready. hard, fast thrusts that had the bed creaking under you, his hips slamming into your ass with wet, slapping sounds. His cock dragged against your walls perfectly, every vein rubbing against your insides and wrecking you.

Your hands clawed at the sheets, fingers curled in tight fists as you moaned into the mattress. He grunted behind you with every thrust.

"You love how I fuck you. Say it." He growled, leaning over you, his chest pressing to your back, voice hot in your ear.

You gasped, sweat dripping from your forehead, your body shaking as he fucked you harder, deeper.

"S-say it—"

"I love it," you moaned. "Fuck, Mike, I love—don't stop—"

He growled, biting your shoulder, fucking you so deep your toes curled, dragging you back onto his cock with both hands gripping your hips, fucking you like he meant to split you open, balls slapping your ass with every brutal thrust.

The tightening in your abdomen, dick twitching under you, untouched but aching. "Gonna cum, baby?" he grunted.

"Yes—yes—fuck—" He reached under you, jerking your cock with the same savage rhythm he was fucking you with, fist sliding up and down as your whole body tensed when the limit was reached, spurting across the sheets in thick ropes, ass clenching around Mike's cock like a vice.

And he soon followed you. Hot and thick. Spilling inside you in heavy, shuddering spurts, his hips twitching with every wave as he buried his face in your neck and groaned your name.

The silence afterward was thick. You laid there, sprawled across the bed, chest heaving, body boneless, glistening with sweat, streaked with Mike's cum and your own. The sheets were ruined beneath you, stained and crumpled and far, far from innocent. Your legs were still splayed, too lazy to close, too drunk on everything he'd just given you.

You didn't bother covering yourself. Couldn't, really. Even the air was too warm.

Mike was sitting on the edge of the bed, jeans only halfway zipped, still shirtless, bare chest flushed, muscles glistening. He leaned down over you, dropping loud and chaste kisses across your chest, obnoxious on purpose, wet and smacking. His grin stretched against your skin between each kiss.

"You're such a mess right now." He muttered, voice low and lazy, dragging his mouth to your nipple and licking it once, slow and hot.

You rolled your eyes, laughing breathlessly, fingers carding through his sweat-damp hair. "Asshole."

He grinned wider. "You loved every second of it."

Another kiss, right over a blooming bruise he'd left earlier.

A sound was barely registered at first due to how quick it was. You were too high off him and relaxed.

A gasp. It slipped into the air like a ghostly breath and the moment it reached your ears, it swelled, filling them entirely.

Ashley's voice, halfway to a whisper, but instantly sharp. "Mike? Are you here—oh—oh my God—"

Everything slammed into motion. Your body tensed under Mike's immediately, like a live wire yanked from the wall. You turned your head so fast your neck cracked, locking on the door where Ashley stood with Matt behind here, pale-faced and frozen, mouth open mid-word.

And he shouted too the second he realized what he and her had stumbled into when they were sent by Emily to search for Mike. "Oh! Fuck! Jesus! We're—we're sorry—"

Ashley backed up, hand flying to her face, babbling fast, her voice already rising. "Oh my God—oh my God, I didn't—I'm so sorry—oh God, we didn't know—"

"Fuckin'—GET OUT!" Mike barked, already grabbing the crumpled sheet from beside you and yanking it over your waist, shielding your lower half as he stood, chest heaving, voice snapping like a whip.

His body was between you and the door now, wide and furious.

But the door was still open and you saw Hannah peeking in at the back.

Her eyes found yours immediately and you couldn't even breathe.

She looked like someone had slapped her. Face drained white. Mouth parted, the whole picture clicking into place.

You could barely hear anything over the pounding in your ears when she turned and ran away.

The door finally slammed shut by Mike, rattling in its frame as silence dropped like a hammer.

You were shaking Heart still jackhammering. Sheet pulled tight to your chest. Breath shallow.

Mike turned back. His chest was rising fast, hair stuck to his forehead. His mouth opened like he wanted to say something but his eyes, when they locked on yours, were full of panic and devastation.

You tried to speak and nothing came out as well.

Mike dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, hands sliding to your thighs, gripping tight and dropping his forehead to press it to your knee.

His voice came out wrecked. "I'm so fucking sorry." The silence swallowed it.

[dixons-sunshine]

Last updated 2025/05/26

General warnings: Some of these fics contain mature content. Please heed the warnings before reading and note that I nor the writers on this list are responsible for your consumption. That said, also be sure to respect the writers’ boundaries regarding who can consume their content.

Krys Rambles: Hi hello! On this list, you can find all of my favourite fics I’ve read. These writers are all amazing and I highly suggest checking them out! This list isn’t in any order, and as of right now, it covers characters like Daryl Dixon, Scud Frohmeyer, Murphy MacManus, Connor MacManus, and Joel Miller! However, more will be added as I read. Also, if you don’t want to be on this list and want to be removed, please tell me and I’ll do it! You can also find every fic I’ve ever reblogged under fic rec, and they’re all amazing!

This list includes both x Reader and OC fics.

𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔/𝑻𝒘𝒐-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔:

Flattery by @dixonsdarkelf

Warnings: No use of y/n, suggestive themes but no smut

You’re An Amateur (but Baby, I’m A Pro) by @dixonsdarkelf (part two of Flattery)

Summary: During a run with Daryl, you find yourself a little sexy surprise and catch your new boyfriend with a look in his eye you’d never seen before. When leaving the department store, the last thing he said was you’d talk when you got home. Well now you were home, and it was time to have that talk…a talk that escalates into an experience you’d never forget.

Warnings: Smut, heavy on the MDNI, we got virgin!reader and a flustered Daryl in this one, Reader is in her late 20s/early 30s, virginity loss, oral (both f & m receiving), Daryl talks Reader through giving a blowjob, Reader has hair long enough to be held in a ponytail, next part will contain more smut, I'm incapable of writing smut without a lot of feelings, mentions of blood (in reference to blushing, i.e. blood rushing to your cheeks), pet names (angel mostly)

Close Quarters by @janiehellion

Summary: Trapped overnight by a horde of walkers during a supply run, you and Daryl Dixon find yourselves in close quarters with nothing but time on your hands. And the problem that you can't keep your hands to yourself.

Warnings: Smut ⋮ Language ⋮ Oral Sex ⋮ Belly Kink

Healing Touch by @janiehellion

Summary: When Daryl Dixon is injured and stuck in bed, he’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of being pampered by the group. But you? You’re more than ready to take care of him—and show him just what it means to be a good boy. Think Daryl Dixon’s all rough and tough? Think again...

Warnings: Smut ⋮ Handjob ⋮ Teasing ⋮ Edging ⋮ Orgasm Control

New Blood In An Old Place by @janiehellion

Summary: The quietest souls have the loudest hearts, and you just found yourself staring at the sky—wondering if Daryl Dixon might be the one to make the stars in the night feel a little closer and less out of reach.

Warnings: Selective Mutism ⋮ Fluff ⋮ Mild Angst ⋮ Canon Divergence

Revved Up by @janiehellion

Summary: Learning to ride a motorcycle should’ve been simple. After all, you knew your way around bikes better than anyone in Alexandria—except Daryl Dixon. But one crash and one pissed-off redneck later, and you're stuck with him giving you a hands-on crash course in focus and control.

Warnings: Smut ⋮ Language ⋮

A Mouthful Of Baptism by @janiehellion

Summary: Daryl Dixon's hands were made to kill—rough, calloused, and strong. But at the CDC, with electricity, a bottle of alcohol, and your lips wrapped around his fingers, he learns what it feels like to crave his woman's touch more than survival. Hot water. Red wine. Your mouth. And the man who owns it.

Warnings: Smut ⋮ S1 Feral Daryl Dixon ⋮ Wine Play ⋮ Pussy Worship ⋮ Primal Kink ⋮ Cunnilingus ⋮ Oral Fixation ⋮ Finger Sucking ⋮ Dry Humping ⋮ Shower BJ ⋮ Teasing ⋮ Possessive Behavior ⋮ Marking ⋮ Spanking ⋮ Spit Play ⋮ Protective Violence ⋮ Language ⋮ Shane Walsh Being An Asshole

Not An Invitation by @dixonsdarkelf

Summary: Shane never knew when he wasn't welcome in someone's space, and he was often invading yours. After one time too many, a certain archer comes to your defense. Inspired by the song 'Invitation' by Ashnikko.

Warnings: No use of y/n, swearing, Shane being a major-league creep

What I Do, I Do For You by @holdmytesseract

Summary: When two Saviors kidnap you - Daryl's pregnant wife - in order to score him off, the archer sees red and does everything to safe you... Everything.

Warnings: Lots of bad stuff is happening, so please act with caution! usual TWD stuff, a lot of angst, pregnancy stuff, violence, blood, character death, murder, brief mentions of rape, FLUFF, Justin & Jed (yep, they're a warning), please tell me if I missed something!

In The Eye Of The Storm by @holdmytesseract

Summary: You go into labor while staying at the renewed Sanctuary. Daryl has to safely get you back home to Alexandria, of course - through a thunderstorm...

Warnings: usual TWD stuff, pregnancy, childbirth, baby things, mentions of blood, weapons, quite a bit angst, fluff, protective!Daryl

Save A Bike, Ride A Biker by @holdmytesseract

Summary: You plan to surprise Daryl and give his bike a scrub. But before you are able to finish your good work, Daryl walks in on you...

Warnings: TWD stuff, weapons, smoking? fluff, cleaning a bike? suggestive smut

Under The Stars by @maggie-atwood

Warnings: none really! Some typical TWD shitty living conditions and reference to weapons, but mostly just fluff!

You’re The Light, You’re The Night by @angelwings-crossbowstrings

Summary: You never thought you’d end up here, but there’s no place you’d rather be.

Warnings: Smut

Domestic Daryl by @tinysunshine

Warnings: Some spiciness

𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔:

The Staring Contest by @deansapplepie

Summary: Daryl and you can’t just take your eyes off each other.

Warnings: swearing, talks about death, Merle, more will be added with time.

Finding Myself, Finding You by @dixonsdarkelf

Summary: Lydia Vector is a trauma surgeon trying to find herself again after a traumatic incident--on top of surviving the zombie apocalypse. Along the way, she finds community, friendship, and maybe something more.

Warnings: implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted SA, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Love In The Rearview Mirror by @holdmytesseract

Summary: Bikes, cigarettes & sex - a lifestyle Daryl Dixon had embraced since he was a teenager.

With being taught from childhood on that love is nothing but a weakness, foolish, and for losers, he had successfully locked his heart and threw away the key. The redneck playboy from Georgia never entertained the thought of committing to another person. Occasional flings, strip clubs, and one-night-stands served to scratch that primal itch inside him. He didn't care about broken hearts and dreams - not even when he stumbled upon you on one of his bike trips through the USA. You were like every other woman before...

... until you weren't.

Warnings: age gap (Daryl is 32, Y/N is 23), angst - quite a lot, drama - also a lot, alcohol & smoking, fluff, strip club? nudity, suggestive stuff, a lot of music/musical inspiration, horses? smut.

Save Me, Save You by @maggie-atwood

Summary: When a dangerous new community attacks, life in Alexandria gets turned upside down. In an attempt to protect your people, you volunteer to meet the bizarre demands of the new community's eccentric leader, including becoming his wife. But along the way, you meet an old community legend, who has fallen down a dark path. Will you be able to save him, your people, and yourself, or will you be lost in the struggle?

Warnings: canon-typical violence, character deaths (canon), guns, blood/injuries, explicit language, sexual content. (Individual chapters will have warnings as well)

Blood Ties by @angelwings-crossbowstrings

Summary: Daryl met you while hunting to feed the group he saddled himself with at the quarry. It was just sex, no strings attached. Until it wasn’t. Strangers to friends to lovers. A bit of slow burn and angst.

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, smut, masturbation, allusions to abortion, medical blood draw, vomiting, allusions to suicide, minor canonical character death, child injury, pregnancy complications, illness, medical procedures, graphic descriptions of childbirth, allusions to child abuse

𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔/𝑻𝒘𝒐-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔:

Pink In The Cheeks, Red In The Sheets by @dixonsdarkelf— Part One | Part Two

Summary: You'd had a long and stressful week at the workshop, and you were looking forward to a little unwinding with your partner. However, you knew it would be a little more than just unwinding.

Part one warnings: MDNI, smut, porn without plot, fingering, pet names (baby, gorgeous, sweetheart, etc.), sexy talk, praise kink, Scud licking his fingers after, no use of y/n, we're fully blaming the hormones for this one

Part two warnings: MDNI, smut, blowjob, making out, grinding, hair pulling, face-fucking, praise kink, masturbation, swallowing, pet names (babygirl, angel, babe, etc.), Reader takes his whole dick down her throat

𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔/𝑻𝒘𝒐-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔:

A Little Snooping Never Hurt Anyone by @dixonsdarkelf

Summary: Bedroom activities with your boyfriend never ceased to leave you fully satiated, but tonight was different. And only later is it revealed what exactly had gotten into him.

Warnings: MDNI, implied smut (like we don't see any of the action but they were clearly fucking), implication of unprotected p in v & creampie (I do not endorse this, y'all know better), swearing

𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔/𝑻𝒘𝒐-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔:

When Your Heart Beats In Stereo by @stellar-waves

Warnings: MDNI 18+ only! poorly written smut, explicit language, poorly written flirting, sorta slow-burn, unprotected p in v, pre-canon, poorly written '90s vibes, first time writing x reader

𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔:

Staring Down The Sun by @stellar-waves

Summary: Real men hide their feelings, at least that’s what Connor and Murphy believed in order to survive. Until Elena Jensen helps them open up through therapy before they escape prison and go back to work as the Saints. The boys learn Elena has some secrets of her own as they uncover a network of powerful crime organizations. But when a spark grows between Connor and Elena, so does the threat to the greater good.

Warnings: explicit language, canon-typical violence, suggestive sexual themes (no smut here), mentions of past sexual assault, mentions of death and grief/mourning, suggestion of suicidal ideation, blood, injury, borderline attempted sexual assault, drugging, angst on top of angst

𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔/𝑻𝒘𝒐-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔:

Do It For Dale by @daryltwdixon

Summary: As Sarah’s best friend, you’re determined to give her the perfect 21st birthday—even if it means going behind her grumpy old dad’s back. But when the night spirals and you end up stranded, you’re forced to call the last person you want to face. And once Sarah is asleep, he shows you exactly what happens to girls who misbehave.

Warnings: smut MDNI 18+, cheerleader!reader, bratty!reader, overprotective!joel, grumpy!joel, sarah's best friend!reader, sbf!reader, bfd!joel, college au, brattamer!joel, no outbreak, pinv, reader is on birth control, blowjob, f!receiving oral, no use of y/n, riding, dirty talk, tiny bit of degradation but also praise kink, spanking, big girthy age gap reader is 21+

Pretty Girl by @daryltwdixon

Summary: You’ve never felt fully at home in your own skin, but that has never stopped Joel from showing you just how much he wants you. One night, you gather the courage to show him what you’ve been too afraid to share, and he shows you exactly what it means to be wanted, worshipped, and seen.

Warnings: smut MDNI 18+, Joel is down bad in love, self conscious reader, no physical description (except 'soft belly') but reader is insecure of their body, no specific timeline, age gap mentioned but not specified, pinv, f!receiving oral, little bit of (f!receiving) ass play, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, soft!joel, he calls you like every pet name in the book. some aftercare

A Lil’ Something Sweet by @citrusrei

Summary: After your husbands aunt passes away, he takes on the responsibility of caring after the beloved family farm. Coming from the city after living there your whole life to moving to a huge farm in the middle of nowhere is a shock to you. But what shocks you even more is the comfort you find from the live-in farmhand, Joel Miller.

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. no outbreak AU. non canon Joel. country side on a farm type shit. Joel is a lonely man. Kinda creepy but in a sexy way. heavy petting. thigh riding. Joel finishes in his pants. Infidelity (oops). joel's possessive but not in a toxic way (outloud). unprotected p-in-v sex. creampies. slight breeding kink if you squint right. age gap. reader is mid to late 20's and joel is pushin' 50. petnames (baby, baby doll, baby girl, darlin', ya know). readers husband is a real dick. slight fatshaming (we hate the husband). joel makes it better. lots of soft touches and kisses. fluffy, angsty, smutty. happy ending.

Slow Like Sunrise by @junojoel

Summary: You and Joel try for a baby.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, unprotected piv, breeding kink, they are making a BABY, mentions of infertility/not being able to get pregnant, mostly fluff though, sickly sweet

Ours by @pandapetals

Request: hi! okay can I please request a fluffy funny Joel x reader where the reader goes into labour a little early and Joel just goes into like full dad panic mode, maybe he’s out on patrol and gets called back early and is freaking out but also trying to keep her calm?? 🥰 <333 Warnings: married couple, joel panicking but being a supportive husband, birth (but not detailed), joel will always be a girl dad, fluff

𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔:

Family Matters by @daryltwdixon

[universefcb]

hey! Can you make one which just showed how reader is being friendly and fitting into Pedri's family perfectly (if it's possible a long one, thanks!)

↬❥ Welcome to the Family

Pedri Gonzalez x Reader!fem

Synopsis: You meeting his family and getting to know him.

a/n: I found this request so cute🥺

REQUESTED

warnings: no

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

The González López house had a unique way of making anyone feel at home. It was as if the vibrant energy of the family was present in every corner—in the picture frames filled with memories, in the delicious smell coming from the kitchen, and in the laughter that echoed through the rooms. You had heard Pedri talk a lot about his family, but now, being there for real, you felt like you were part of something special.

“So, we finally get to meet you!” Rosy exclaimed excitedly, pulling you into a tight hug as soon as you walked through the door.

You barely had time to respond before Fernando, Pedri's father, extended his hand with a welcoming smile.

“Welcome! Pedri talks a lot about you.”

Fer, the older brother, looked you up and down and smiled sideways.

“Let’s see if you can survive a family lunch.”

The joke made everyone laugh, and you felt the initial tension dissipate. The house was cozy, with decor that mixed memories of the Canary Islands and an undeniable love for football.

“Want something to drink?” Pedri asked, gently pulling you into the kitchen.

“Just water, for now,” you replied, still taking in everything around you.

“Relax,” he said softly. “I can see they like you.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest. You wanted to reciprocate that warm welcome.

The table was full of typical Canarian dishes, and the aroma was mouth-watering. Rosy insisted that you try a little of everything, and you didn't have the heart to refuse—especially since everything looked delicious.

“Did you like it?” she asked, watching his reaction expectantly.

“It’s amazing!” you replied sincerely.

That was enough to make her smile with satisfaction and put even more food on her plate.

The conversation around the table flowed animatedly. Fernando told some stories about Pedri's childhood, and Fer didn't miss the opportunity to make fun of his brother.

“Remember when you cried because you lost a match to me?”

Pedri rolled his eyes.

“I was six years old!”

You laughed along with everyone. Little by little, you started to feel more comfortable, joining in the jokes and sharing stories of your own. It was amazing how his family made you feel included.

At one point, Rosy looked at you fondly.

“You have a good manner. I can see that you care about Pedri.”

The comment made Pedri blush slightly, but he just smiled and held her hand discreetly under the table.

After lunch came the most anticipated moment of the day: family games.

“Get ready,” Fer warned. “We are extremely competitive.”

“But we always play fair,” Fernando added, before giving Rosy a wink.

“That’s a lie!” Rosy protested, causing everyone to laugh.

The games started with cards, then moved on to charades and even an improvised table football championship. You and Pedri formed a duo, and even though he was skilled on the field, at table football he didn't seem to have the same luck.

“You have to improve that, Pedri,” Fer teased, laughing as he scored another point.

“You’re a professional gamer, please,” you joked, patting his shoulder.

In the end, your team lost, but the fun was guaranteed. Even in defeat, you felt like you were fitting in perfectly in that environment full of energy and affection.

After so much laughter and competition, the house finally began to calm down. You and Pedri walked out onto the balcony, where the starry sky of the Canary Islands stretched out above you.

“They really liked you,” Pedri said, looking at you with a calm smile.

“I really liked them too,” you replied, feeling a wave of gratitude.

The silence between you was comfortable. The light breeze brought a pleasant coolness, and in that moment, you realized how much this day meant.

“You know…” Pedri continued. “My family is the most important part of my life. Having you here and seeing that you got along with them… It means a lot to me.”

Your heart warmed. You already knew that Pedri valued his family greatly, but hearing him say it so openly made you realize the depth of that feeling.

“Then I guess I’m on the right track,” you said, smiling.

He laced his fingers through hers and nodded.

“Definitely.”

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @p4uul0vr @nngkay @meganesanchez @bymerinott @htpssgavi @luvvpedri

[pforestsims]

I've put together some of my favourite shiny TXMT settings - these are for TS2 CC creators /anyone editing recolors in SimPe.

I've included two custom envcubes.

Also recommended: my Shine Removal Kit.

Shine TXMT Settings

Download: SFS | BOX

These settings should be added to TXMT with 'merge' button /not 'import'/. Instructions are included.

As is the case with StandardMaterial, envcube reflections get much stronger outdoors. This pack includes various TXMT settings for opaque object recolors, to simulate materials such as glass, porcelain, gold, polished metal, stainless metal, cars and other glossy outdoor objects.

Shine settings can be merged with all kinds of settings (tinted, transparent, with textures, or textureless).

stdMatEmissiveCoef and stdMatDiffCoef brightness might affect the intensity of reflections

Please note my shine settings can also be used for SimStandardMaterial stuff BUT results will be a little different /CAS accessories using that shader look the same indoors and outdoors/.

One of the setting files features my custom greylivingroom-envcube, it's based on TS2 gothlivingroom_01-envcube, which I very often use for glazed pottery or glass bottles -BUT it doesn't have any brassy tones, unlike original.

And there's also pfmall-envcube which I created for cars displayed indoors, but it's not exactly how I imagined it - I haven't found much use for it so far. Both custom envcubes are tiny, 64x64 px DXT5.

A Bit Of Gloss: porcelain / glass kind of shine, good for small objects, I often use it for bottles

A Bit Of Neutral Gloss: same as above, but no warm hues

Cool Sparkles: highly polished surface effect, good for small and larger objects

Shiny Gold & Stainless Steel Shine: what it says on the tin

Subtle Shine Blueish: barely visible indoors, this one is good for outdoor metals

Car Varnish Glossy Outdoor: reflection with green grass, trees and sky

Glossy glowing: for lit panels and such

[peachbubbless]

An SBR request! Could we have Johnny bring around a reader with Keratosis Pilaris? Aka strawberry skin, they look similar to bug bites! Btw I absolutely love your writing, I’m falling for characters I hadn’t even paid full attention to before!

YOUR MIND - astounding. The things you’ve done for the Johnny Joestar community 🙏 I have KP myself and suddenly love it a lot more! I'm so glad you enjoy my writing my love, hope you enjoy this one too, it’s such a fun premise! <333

Strawberry skin – Johnny Joestar x Reader

Sexual themes | Word count - 1676 | Day 2 SBR fanfic Week

It hadn’t been a plan.

Not at first.

After the Steel Ball Run ended, after the winners were named and the dead were not, it turned out no one really knew what to do with themselves.

You hadn’t expected to survive, much less to have to figure out what came after. You’d ridden halfway across a continent for a reason that didn’t even make sense anymore. Salvation, maybe. Or spite. Some days it was hard to tell the difference.

But when it was over, your name wasn’t in the papers. There was no parade. No epilogue written in gold.

Just bruises, half-healed wounds you still didn’t like to talk about, and a quiet life with Johnny Joestar.

“You don’t have to go back,” he’d said, not quite looking at you.

“There’s room at the ranch. I could use the help.”

You knew what he meant. You both did. It wasn’t about chores. It wasn’t even about the room.

It was about not being alone.

He hadn’t wanted to ask. You hadn’t wanted to say yes.

But here you were.

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere you were living on Joestar land, sleeping in the old guest room, and pretending it wasn’t strange that your post-trauma coping strategy included shovelling horse shit and arguing about who made worse coffee.

You weren’t together-together. Not officially.

But there were looks. Drinks together. Moments that lasted too long and silences that said more than anyone was willing to put into words. Something had started in the desert, and it hadn’t stopped growing. Not yet.

The morning was already warm by the time you started on the stables.

The air smelled like leather, grass and dust, the kind that clung to your skin no matter how many times you washed. The sky stretched overhead in that cloudless, uncaring way that reminded you of your race days - only now, the only thing trying to kill you was hay fever.

You had your sleeves rolled up and your pants cuffed at the knee. Not for fashion. Just because it was hot, and the horses didn’t care what your legs looked like.

You were halfway through mucking the second stall when you heard the slow crunch of gravel behind you.

“You get bit up bad or somethin’?”

You turned.

Johnny was leaning against the fence, arms crossed, his expression unreadable in that classic Joestar way. He wasn’t wearing the hat today. His hair was tousled like he’d run a hand through it and then given up halfway. There was a glass of lemonade sweating in one hand and a twitch of amusement in the corner of his mouth.

He nodded toward your legs.

“Legs’re lookin’ a little rough.”

You blinked. Followed his gaze.

Right.

The keratosis. Strawberry skin.

The skin below your knees prickled under his stare. Pale, red-flecked, raised along the surface. The sun wasn’t helping.

You dropped the pitchfork, wiped your hands on your legs as if that would help, and shrugged like it didn’t matter.

“It’s not bug bites. I have a skin condition.”

Johnny didn’t answer. Just kept looking.

“Keratosis Pilaris,” you added, like it was a spell that might end the conversation. “It’s not contagious. Just… ugly.”

Still nothing. Just the breeze. Just him, watching.

You tried to brush it off with a laugh that didn’t quite land.

“You can say it’s gross. I’m used to it.”

Johnny tilted his head. Sipped his lemonade. And then, slowly:

“I wasn’t gonna say that.”

Pause.

“I was gonna say something worse.”

Your brow lifted. “Worse than gross?”

He stared at you for a beat too long. Then looked away, like he needed to physically reset himself to say it out loud.

“I’ve only ever told one person this before,” he muttered. “And that was Gyro. Which I regret every goddamn day.”

You blinked. “Okay…”

“I have a bug bite fetish.”

You froze.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a thing,” Johnny said defensively. “A real thing. Don’t look at me like that.”

You were absolutely looking at him like that.

He kept talking. Too fast. Clearly spiralling.

“It’s not like - not in a weird way. Or not weirder than the stuff people are into now. It’s just - there’s something about it. The texture. The way it looks. And you’ve got that- look.”

You raised both eyebrows.

“Bug bite look?”

“Okay, that sounds worse out loud, I’m realising that now.”

You stared. For a long moment.

Then:

“You’re a fucking weirdo.”

Johnny grinned, all teeth.

“Takes one to move in with me.”

Your face burned hotter than the sun overhead. You rolled your eyes and went back to the pitchfork, jabbing it into the hay a little harder than necessary.

“You need therapy.”

“I had therapy. He quit when I started talking about corpses.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“Well, neither is watching you stomp around in barn muck and somehow making it hot.”

Your hands stilled on the pitchfork.

Then, slowly, you looked over your shoulder.

“You wanna touch it?”

You didn’t look at him. Just kept working the pitchfork like you hadn’t just flipped the entire balance of power in the barn. Straw and whatever-the-hell-else shifted under your boots while the silence behind you stretched dangerously.

“You serious?” Johnny said, a beat late and a little too casual to be real.

You didn’t answer right away. Just leaned on the handle like you had all day and zero intention of making this easy for him.

“Well,” you said slowly. “You’ve been staring at my legs like they owe you money.”

“I haven’t.”

“Johnny.”

“Okay but like - respectfully.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder. He was standing there, lemonade in hand, mouth slightly open like his brain had completely shut itself off from the rest of his body.

“You’re not exactly subtle.”

“I could be,” he offered. “But you just keep… existing. Like that.”

You gestured vaguely to the pitchfork, to the sweat, to the literal shit you were knee-deep in.

“Like what? Covered in dust and horse piss?”

“Like someone I absolutely should not be thinking about in this setting.”

“You need help.”

“I need to look - respectfully.”

“You are not looking respectfully.”

Johnny didn’t respond. Just sipped his lemonade in the world’s most suspicious silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “You thinking about it?”

“I’m trying not to,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m failing.”

You couldn’t help it - you grinned.

“It’s just skin, Joestar.”

“No. That’s like - fuckin’ - limited edition.”

You nearly dropped the pitchfork.

“Limited - what? Are you mad?!”

“I’m just saying!” he blurted, face pink. “You’ve got that… deluxe model skin!”

You wheezed.

“You are so goddamn weird.”

“You offered!” he reminded you, voice cracking halfway through the sentence like his vocal cords had just tried to file a protest.

You tilted your head, still grinning.

“So…?”

He stood there. Glass still in hand. Eyes firmly planted somewhere below your knees like they were trying to manifest a deeper meaning from your skin texture.

“I want to,” he admitted, and he sounded uncomfortably sincere about it.

“But?”

“I don’t wanna get slammed in the jaw while you’re holding that pitchfork.”

You stepped closer. Just enough for your foot to bump lightly against his boot.

“Then don’t be weird about it.”

“It’s already weird.”

“Okay, but like - don’t be gross about it.”

Johnny looked you dead in the eye.

“I make no promises.” 

Johnny looked like you’d handed him something delicate, forbidden, and weirdly exciting.

“I’m gonna… just - yeah,” he mumbled, reaching out like your shin was booby-trapped.

You didn’t move. You also didn’t help.

He finally touched it - just a light brush of fingers along the skin, slow and cautious, like you might retract your leg and kick him in the jaw at any moment.

“Huh,” he breathed.

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“It’s… soft,” he said, surprised like you were some kind of rare terrain.

“Wow. Crazy how skin works.”

“No, but like - textured. In a cool way.”

“You’re describing me like a countertop.”

His lips twitched.

“A countertop…” he repeated, like he was testing the flavour of the word.

Then he looked up at you, slow and unmistakably up to something.

“You’re giving me ideas.”

You pointed the pitchfork at his chest without missing a beat.

“Finish that thought and I’ll brain you with this.”

Johnny grinned. “You say that like it’s not still on the table.”

You groaned.

He was still touching your leg gently, like he was scared he’d be banned if he pressed too hard. You permitted it. Just for a second.

Then you stepped back, and his hand dropped like you’d unplugged him.

“Okay,” you said. “Enough leg fondling in the barn.”

“You’re cutting me off?”

“I’m cutting you off before you start talking about getting a second helping.”

Johnny squinted, obviously trying to think of something clever and failing miserably.

“I wasn’t gonna say that.”

“You were about to say something unholy. I could see it building.”

“I was gonna say ‘compliments to the chef,’ actually.”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, already turning away. “I am not letting you simp for my legs in a room full of hay and horse shit.”

“That’s fair,” he said, recovering instantly. “But just for the record, I was being so respectful.”

You gave him a flat look over your shoulder.

“You looked like you were about for my leg in marriage.”

“Was gonna ask real nice, too.”

“Save it.”

“So, not never,” he called after you. “Just… not while you’re holding a pitchfork?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Cool, cool, cool. Hypothetically, if I brought you a drink and washed my hands-”

“Johnny.”

“Okay! Just checking. Later, then.”

“-I’ll clean the countertop.”

You stopped in the doorway.

“Clean it with what, your drooling mouth?”

Johnny didn’t miss a beat.

“Good idea. I did call you a countertop, didn’t I?”

[halfway-happyyy]

Achilles' Heel - part I {Frank Castle}

"you are my achilles' heel, the weakness only i can feel" - leith ross

summary: in which of all the lost souls in new york city, an enterprising young woman has the misfortune of patching up The Punisher.

warnings include: mentions of violence, blood, etc. two people who could fill a cargo container five times over with their emotional baggage.

pairing: Frank Castle x female reader (she/her pronouns)

AN: i’m not entirely sure how this idea came to me, but here we are. i don’t claim to know much about sex workers (except that they deserve as much respect and love as anyone else), and like our main girl here, i certainly don’t claim to know much about medical intricacies, so go easy on me. happy reading friends 💖

As the opening notes to Billie Holliday’s P.S. I Love You rose above the muted static of her record player, her eyes fell shut in unconcealed ecstasy. A flash of lightning lit the otherwise caliginous night sky outside her living room window, and it occurred to her then, in the comfort of her own presence, that this was the first Saturday night she’d had off in months. There was a 2009 vintage red on the rack next to her player that she knew would pair excellently with her record, and just as she’d been about to reach for it, her phone rang, shattering her shallow illusion of peace. It briefly crossed her mind to let it ring, but when she saw that it was her friend, she quickly changed her mind. 

“Elena, this had better be good.” 

White noise reverberated on the other end before her friend elicited a hacking, wet cough. “Callie, I need a favour.” 

On account of her friend’s rare use of her real name, she knew immediately that whatever she was about to be asked, was serious. 

“I’m listening.” 

“I was supposed to do a job tonight- some boutique hotel up in hell’s kitchen, and I can barely get out of bed, let alone anything else.” A clap of thunder sounded closely outside, startling her, and the thought of going back out into the torrential downpour of the evening made her stomach churn with dread, but she let Elena continue. “It would mean the world to me if you took the call, Cal. The money’s good- 5 k upfront and he only needs about an hour of your time.” Elena sniffled and added, “It goes without saying but I will happily take the next call you don’t want to do.” 

It was apparent that whatever bug had brought her friend down had to have been a nasty one in order for her to turn down five thousand dollars for an evening.

“You sound like shit, E. Of course I’ll do it.”

She could still hear her friend chanting thankyouthankyouthankyou into the phone when she hung up. She cast a last, longing glance at the bottle in her rack and then begrudgingly went to her bedroom to change. 

Standing poised and slightly drenched in front of the hotel room door an hour later, she reluctantly knocked the way Elena’s text message had instructed and waited. Though the feeling was a rare one - she’d been playing the long game for a while now - apprehension swelled in the pit of her belly, and out of habit, she bent slightly to run a hand over the jagged outline of the knife in her boot; just feeling it was enough to put her nerves at ease for the time being. When her client still hadn’t answered the door, she became concerned that she’d had the wrong room, and just as she was about to double-check her messages, the door swung open. She hesitated a moment before entering, and when her eyes eventually adjusted to the dimly lit room, she noticed a man perched on the edge of the neatly made bed, staring off into the distance as if in a daze, and holding a hand to his side. An undetectable bite of something hung so heavily in the air that she could almost taste the slightly salty brine of it on her tongue. 

The man cleared his throat and rasped, “You Elena?” 

She took a tense breath and shook her head. “Elena was indisposed this evening. I’m Jane.”

She watched the man hang his head and elicit a string of rough curse words.

As the rain dried on her skin, annoyance swirled in her belly. “Excuse me, is there a problem?” 

A bark of laughter erupted from him, humorless and cold. “Yeah, there’s a fuckin’ problem. There was a reason I asked for her specifically.” 

Elena had briefly mentioned something about her client requesting a girl with a medical background, but they had both chalked that up to a kink he probably had. They decided that this was just going to be one of those times where she would have to fake it to make it. 

“Listen, pal, if it’s a nurse thing you’re after, I’m your gal. I’ve got a little paper hat and a stethoscope-

He cleared his throat and glanced up at her, and it was then that she noticed the complete state of disrepair the man was in, and the rest of the words fizzled in her throat. Her stomach plummeted when she realized the source of the metallic tang in the room was blood. His face seemed to have taken the worst of the damage; multiple shallow cuts oozed crimson, and a violet bruise bloomed under an umber eye that would surely take the form of a full-blown shiner in the morning. Her gaze traveled lower, to where his hand held his side, and bile rose in her throat as she noticed blood seeping out from between his fingers.

His voice was hoarse when he murmured, “Yeah kid. It’s a nurse thing I’m after alright.” 

Kid? Who on earth did this man think he was?

Her mouth had become void of moisture at some point, so when she tried to say that perhaps they had better call an ambulance, his face turned up in a scowl. “Beg your pardon?” 

She gestured toward the phone on the desk beside the television. “I don’t see why we can’t call for help…” 

He shook his head adamantly. “Nah. No hospitals, no cops, none'a that shit. You’re here now, and if you’re able, I could really use the help.” 

She could feel the ice-cold blooms of panic taking root in her, and as she glanced back towards the door, the urge to cut and run became all-encompassing. She wrung her hands together, at a complete loss for what to do.

“Look man, if you die on me- if you die here tonight, I’m screwed. Beyond screwed. And this may come as a shock to you, but I’m not exactly qualified to assist you with whatever this,” she gestured vaguely towards him. “Is.” 

His laughter was genuine this time, but it vanished quickly and was replaced with a grimace of sheer pain. “I ain’t dying, kid. Not tonight anyway. And even if I did, I know a couple of okay lawyers that could get you out of a bind no problem,” His gaze found hers again, and the unexpected earnestness in it nearly floored her. “Please.” 

She found herself nodding before she could fully talk herself out of it. “Oh christ, okay. What do you need?” 

He inhaled deeply and gestured with the jut of his chin to a medical kit that lay open on the desk beside the phone. “There’s a needle and some thread in there-

“No,” She shook her head. “No no no. I can’t.” 

He screwed his eyes shut and hissed out another expletive. “No pressure here, but there’s a high chance I’ll bleed out if you don’t and I’d do it myself, but I can’t quite reach it.” 

Despite the chaotic haze of the moment, it all began to make sense. Three years ago, and after a particularly bad year, Elena had quit her job as a charge nurse at Mount Sinai. His earlier statement about asking for her friend specifically chimed like a bell through her muddled mind.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you it was as easy as sewing drapes?” 

Disbelief clouded her features as she shook her head. “No, it would not.” 

She wandered over to the kit and peered in, noticing two spools of black and navy thread. She pulled them both out and asked if he’d had a preference over one, which made him snicker. 

“Black suits me just fine, kid.” 

She got to work threading the needle, and when that was finished, she approached him reluctantly.

“You always carry a medical kit with you?” 

The man tried to manage a shrug. “I’ve found it comes in handy from time to time.” 

She took a steadying breath. “Alright, I’m ready if you are.” 

He reached down to retrieve a half-empty bottle of whiskey, pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a hearty swig. When he set the bottle back down, he dropped his hand with a wince and proceeded to gingerly pull the t-shirt from his battered body. If she’d thought his face was bad, it was nothing compared to the carnage that littered his chest and abdomen. “Jesus,” She gasped. 

“Yeah well, you should see the other guy.” He managed between gritted teeth. 

He bore the faintly heady scent of gunsmoke and blood, and as she leaned closer to inspect the wound she murmured, “Judging by how this looks, I think the other guy may be dead.” 

He made a noncommittal noise in his throat. “I think you may be right.”

She quickly passed a square of gauze over the wound, ignoring the pained grunt that fell from the man’s mouth and sighed. “Do I get to know your name for this?” 

“You wanna know my real name? Or should I take a page outta your book and give you a fake one?” 

It was her turn to choke out a breathless laugh. “You sure talk a lot of shit for someone at the mercy of a complete stranger.” 

He hissed as the needle pierced his skin and managed a grunted, “Yeah well, this ain’t my first rodeo.” 

She was entirely unsurprised.

“It’s uh… It’s Frank.” he eventually croaked.

She was quiet as she tried her best to focus on the gruesome task at hand, but the insufficient lighting combined with the calamitous thunder outside made it all a bit harder than it needed to be. “Yeah well Frank, first aid 101 says that you don’t pull the protrusion from the wound until you seek proper medical help.” 

“Fuck,” He seethed when she pricked a particularly sensitive spot. “We got a smartass on our hands, I see. You gonna tell me your real name now?” 

She ignored that completely. “Hey, answer me this: there was no one else in your life that you could have called besides an escort agency to come fix you up?” She found the mere notion of it all inexplicably sad. 

Despite the pain he was in, a smirk ghosted his features. “I only got two people that I would trust my life with, and both of ‘em are uh… what’s the word you used earlier? Indisposed?”

He flinched and swore again.

“They’re indisposed at the moment. Plus, you offer much more of a view to look at than they do.” 

Jesus, the nerve on this guy. 

She gave her head a shake and huffed out an exasperated breath. “Well, I’m sure you’ll regret getting a hold of Elena when this thing heals. I’ve likely maimed you for the rest of your days.” 

“Pfft, have you seen the rest of me, kid? Add it to the pile.”

While she took stock of the rest of him, her gaze drifted to the gold wedding band on a chain around his neck. “Your wife know where you are?” 

Frank stiffened against her, eyes drifting to the ceiling above her head. “Nope.” 

“Lucky lady,” She murmured, as she finished the last stitch and tied off the end of the thread.

She watched Frank’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat before he uttered, “My wife’s dead.” 

Her eyes fell shut. “I’m so sorry.” 

He offered her a shrug, his face a blank page. “You didn’t know.” 

The room became quiet while she busied herself packing gauze over the wound and placing tape over it to keep it there. She hastily surveyed the rest of the damage that she could see and asked if there were any other problem areas she should know about.

Frank shook his head. “None that require any more of your fancy suture work.” He pulled the blood-stained t-shirt back over his head, shielding the carnage of his toned chest from her, and she ignored the surprising prick of disappointment as a result.

“Can’t imagine you get too many calls like this.” 

She let out a low whistle. “This one was definitely a first.” 

Frank tilted his head to the side, studying her. “I bet you see a lot of shit though, doing what you do.” 

Doing what you do. 

Selling your company, your time, your body for money. 

She stood from the bed then, and turned towards the direction of the washroom, desperately wanting to rid her hands of the sickeningly sticky feeling of his blood on them.

“Not as much shit as you see, doing what you do.” 

She took her time at the sink, methodically scrubbing away the gore under scalding water until it ran clear, and when she entered the room again, Frank had propped himself up against the headboard of the bed and was watching her.

“I meant no disrespect, kid. You gotta do what you gotta do.” 

She rolled her eyes and murmured an acerbic, “How progressive of you.” 

It was hard to miss the mischievous glitter in his eyes when he cocked his head to the side and asked, “Tell me something. You ever have to use that knife in your boot?” 

She couldn’t imagine how he’d known, and she tried in vain to keep her voice neutral when she shrugged and said, “Not yet, but you never know.” 

A smirk lifted his lips skyward as he echoed her words. “You never know.” 

She cleared her throat, suddenly desperate to change the subject. “The guy who did this to you… Is he really dead?” 

A shadow passed over Frank’s face; if she hadn’t been watching him already, she would have missed it entirely.

“Would you believe me if I told you he was better off that way?” 

For some inexplicable reason, she could believe it, but she didn’t need to confirm it because the knowing look on his face told her as much. 

She clocked the watch on the underside of her wrist. Twenty past midnight. Shit.

“Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave, Frank?”

He winced, shifting into a more comfortable position. “Yeah kid, you can tell me your name. And none of that Jane Doe horseshit.” 

She scoffed. “Why? What’s the point?” 

Frank’s gravelly just humor me, was so quiet she almost missed it.

She kicked at a stray pebble on the carpet and sighed in defeat. “It’s Calliope. But I go by Callie.” 

A smile grew on his face that caused a wave of butterflies to take flight in her belly, despite everything.

“Your folks Greek mythology buffs or Springsteen fans?” 

Her eyes widened in genuine shock. “Both, actually.” 

He nodded in satisfaction. “I got one more question for ya.” 

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Seems you’re full of those tonight.”

“Why didn’t you just pass yourself off as Elena from the get-go?” 

She cast around for a suitable answer and eventually landed on, “You seem like the kind of guy who values honesty above most things.” 

The tension in the room seemed to reach a fever pitch as Frank’s gaze bore into hers, his expression unreadable. When the silence became too heavy, she broke it by inquiring about her payout.

Frank gestured to the desk beside the television. “It’s in the first drawer there.” 

She followed his instructions and pulled the sizable bundle of cash from it, turning back to him with her head cocked. “Well, I’d say it’s been a pleasure Frank, but I’d be lying.” 

He smiled wryly at her. “Stay safe out there, kid.” 

She hesitated a moment before turning towards the door. Her hand was on the handle when he called her name, and she slowly turned back to him. 

“What happens if I need your help again?” 

She let her mind wander a moment before shrugging. “Just shine your bat signal toward the sky, and I’ll get the hint. See ya around, Frank.”

Once outside in the hallway, she stumbled back against the wall and allowed herself a couple of heaving lungfuls of fresh air. She was moments away from stepping into the elevator when Frank’s wrecked voice caught her attention, and she turned to see him limping toward her, a small piece of paper in his grasp. 

“There’s just no keeping you down, is there?” she couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice.

He shoved the paper toward her, his face serious. “This is my number. You ever get into trouble, you ever find yourself in a situation, you give me a call.” 

Her eyes widened in mild amusement. “Right, I’ll call you so that you can get yourself into the same situation as tonight. Seems smart.” 

He shook his head. “Look kid, I don’t care if you slam dunk it into the nearest trash can on your way out, just take it.” 

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. She grabbed the piece of paper and backed into it, giving him a small wave. “Bye, Frank.” 

He mirrored her wave. “Take care of yourself, Callie.” 

~

did i originally post this earlier and then come up with a title i liked more? we'll never know. stay tuned for part 2💙

[scorpioriesling]

Valentine's Day

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris, Tamlin, Xaden, Liam, Bodhi, Ridoc, Brennan x reader

Warning(s): none, this is fluff

Summary: Little snippets and snapshots of your Valentine's Day dates with each of the boys! ACOTAR + Fourth Wing boys included.

SR’s Note: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO ALL MY LOVELIES <3 This was so cutesy... I just love Valentine's Day so much. Surprise, enjoy, and I love you all. <3

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

✿༺ 𝑅𝒽𝓎𝓈𝒶𝓃𝒹 ༻✿

"Rhys -- oh wow..." You find yourself at a loss for words as you look around, taking in the lavish restaurant around you.

"Only the best for you, my shining star." He places a kiss on top of your head, chuckling as you continue to look around, mouth agape. Your wonder only grows as he takes your hand in his, leading you to the private dining table near the windowed-walls.

He pulls out one chair, guiding you to sit and then he takes his own seat. Gazing out the window, you blush as though you were on a first date. Rhysand always had that effect on you.

"Do you like it?" He asks politely, reaching across the table and taking your hand lightly in his again. Turning to him, you slowly shake your head.

"Rhys... I, truly don't know what to say." He grins.

"This... this is perfect, Rhys."

His gaze drifts to your entwined hands.

"Only the best for my perfect girl."

The blush on your cheeks is almost as deep as the wine the waiter brings to your table, the taste bringing a delightfully fuzzy feeling to your head.

After eating and some delightful conversation (as always), the waiter leaves to retrieve your desserts. Your shoulders flinch in shock as colors of all kinds begin bursting across the sky.

"Oh, my!" You stare out the window in wonder. Rhysand watches you, his gaze filled with all of the love swelling in his heart.

After a few moments, you feel his hand beneath your chair, scooting you towards him. Chuckling, you inch closer until you're shoulder to shoulder.

Your gaze drifts once more from the outdoor phenomenon to Rhys, his longing stare enough to make your stomach flip.

"I love you, Y/N," he says, leaning close. "More than anything."

You giggle, closing the distance and pressing a kiss to his lips. His hand slides to your lower back, holding you close even when you break the kiss.

"Be my valentine?"

You let out a short laugh at his proposition.

"How could I ever say no?"

✿༺ 𝒞𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒶𝓃 ༻✿

"Whewww, pretty lady -- let me buy you a drink!" Cassian hoots, and you smack his shoulder.

"If you were anyone else, I would say no." You smile, squealing as your man grabs your hips and pulls you close.

"If I were anyone else, I'd hope you'd say more than just 'no'," His breath tickles your ear, making you chuckle against his chest. He motions to the bartender, asking for another drink for the two of you.

You smile up at him, and he returns it with a bright one of his own.

"What'd you order for us this time?"

He reaches behind you, grabbing both glasses in one of his large palms. The cranberry-pink liquid glimmered in the cup, catching the light bouncing off the disco ball overhead.

"Tonight's special," he says, extending one to you before taking a huge gulp of his own. "The Lovebug."

You smile, tasting your own beverage. You watch Cassian drain his drink, and you sip slowly to try to catch up.

"Woah, woah, not so fast," he chuckles as you cough, the alcohol burning as it went down. Shaking your head, you chug the rest of it and set both glasses on the bar behind you.

Leaning into him, you grip his biceps as you gaze up at him.

"I want to dance!"

He smiles softly, his hands finding the curve of your waist and pulling you toward the dancefloor. "Then let's dance."

After a few songs, you were over-the-moon to hear one of your favorite slow Taylor Swift songs playing; a stark contrast to the Charli XCX and Chappell Roan bumping all evening.

"Cassie!" You squeal, the opening of Lover playing as the dance floor slowed down.

"Alright alright alright, Rita's! A request from one of our regulars, so you know we had to play it -- grab your valentine and just vibe with us for a minute!" The DJ annouces, and Cassian subtly pulls you into a slow dance.

Your mind swirls, the excitement of hearing your favorite artist at the bar you frequented so often, and on Valentine's Day -- you couldn't be more overjoyed.

The alcohol swims throughout your veins, feeling grateful for Cassian's support as the two of you sway. Gazing up at him, he watches you in adoration.

"Did you request this?" The smile creeps onto your face, realizing your boyfriend who'd whethered hours of this same singer's discography had done this, just for you.

He nods, leaning in to kiss your lips slowly, softly. When he pulls back, you both chuckle.

"I'd do anything in the world for you, my valentine."

✿༺ 𝒜𝓏𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓁 ༻✿

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Your boyfriend's honey-smooth voice asks, so contrasting to the icy bite of the winter air.

"Yes -- I promise, Az." He sighs, glancing over your outfit one last time.

"You're sure you don't want to change into something warmer before we go?"

He'd asked this question about a gagillion times now -- the outfit you'd worn out tonight was not enough to keep you warm in the sky.

"I'm sure Az -- besides, you're warm, right? I'll just hold close to you." You shrugged as though this was nothing, but Azriel only sighed and shook his head.

"Only if you're sure." He decides, knowing he'll never sway your stubborn mind. He stands straight, taking your hand in his.

"Ready?"

You roll your eyes.

"Azriel, yes, I've been ready-"

Your voice breaks off in a yelp as his hands wrap around you, holding onto you tightly as your feet leave the ground. Your yelp turns into a full-on shout as Velaris grows smaller and smaller below you, the icy chill of the air only dropping in temperature. You claw at Azriel's chest, your hands wrapping securely around his neck as you cling to him for dear life.

"Want me to bring us back down?" He says, the muscles in his back flexing as his wings work to keep the two of you airborne.

"No!" You say immediately, the adrenaline coursing through you. This was what you'd asked for, so many times when he'd asked what you wanted for Valentine's Day. Over, and over and over.

Fly with me.

The quiet becomes comfortable as you adjust, moving to look at the glittering lights of your favorite city below. Azriel's hands cradle you to him, holding tight as his wings soar the two of you among the clouds.

"Enjoying this?" He asks worriedly. You tear your gaze from the ground below, looking up at his face.

"Every minute of it." You assure him, and a small smile graces his mouth. You crane your neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his warm lips, which he eagerly returns.

"This Valentine's day is perfect, Azriel."

✿༺ 𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒾𝑒𝓃 ༻✿

"Lucien -- where are we going?"

You tried to surpress a giggle as you cautiously stepped along, Lucien's warm palms covering your eyes as he guided you. He chuckled softly, the sound never getting old.

"You'll see soon, my love."

After a few more minutes guiding you along, he stopped. The sounds of crickets filled the air, the soft hum of fireflies bringing you only more confusion.

"We're here," he says softly, removing his hands and you open your eyes at once. You'd expected squinting, the light blinding from the darkness you'd been in -- but, you didn't have to squint at all. He'd brought you to a field, one you recognized from the first time you'd met. The night sky stretched overhead, the only light from the stars above and a few candles lit on a blanket before you.

"Lucien..." your voice wavered, a fresh wave of emotions rolling through you. This was so thoughtful, so kind of him -- and he'd pre-planned and set up all of it.

"Please, sit with me." He gestures to the blanket and you sit, taking in the aroma of fresh baked bread and the cherry wine as he popped the top.

"Lucien this... this is wonderful," you try again. He only smiles softly, focused on filling your glass and then his. When he finally meets your eye, he holds up his glass.

"To my wonderful valentine," he toasts, and you can't help but blush. "This year, and many more."

You clink your glass with his. "To many more." You repeat, smiling and taking a sip from the goblet. He goes to slice the bread, offerring you some as he leans back on his hands to look above.

"How long had you been planning this?" You ask between chews. He sighs, his eyes taking in the vast night sky.

"Mmmm," he thinks. "Honestly, since I first met you here -- you were so headstrong, putting me in my place and telling me the Night Court has the best midnight views. I knew I'd need to see for myself why you believed your home court was better than any other."

He offers you a soft grin. "I'm glad I listened and stayed to find out."

Your heart swells as you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Had I not, I wouldn't have gotten to know you."

You look up at him, all of the butterflies escaping the cage in your stomach as though it were the first day you'd laid eyes on him. It didn't matter, it wouldn't; no amount of time would ever change the feeling that Lucien brought you.

You craned your neck as his lips captured yours, the sweet bitterness of the wine lingering between the two of you. His strong hands found your waist, moving you between his legs before he broke the kiss to lie back. You followed suit, your head resting on his chest.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to be here, with you." He says, and you press a soft kiss to his neck as his hands gently stroke your hair.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to be yours, Lu."

✿༺ 𝐸𝓇𝒾𝓈 ༻✿

It had been a particularly hard year for you last year -- experiencing a death in the family, the war that left your court in shambles, then taking the position as High Lady during the previous High Lord's fall; it was a lot for one woman to handle.

Truly, the only good thing that happened last year was Eris.

He'd finally married you, a wedding that took a few very long, strenuous years to plan -- and then, after his father's passing, crowned you his equal, the High Lady of the Autumn Court.

Amid the chaos, the sadness, and defeat -- your husband was one that could read you like a book.

It was Valentine's Day, of course -- a particularly hard day, as in years past, the royal family would host a ball for the higher society court dwellers to attend.

Eris could see that you were uncomfortable. Hell, who wouldn't be -- being the talk of the town, he didn't like the whisperings about you as much as you did. Half the court appreciated a woman in power; but the other half, much like his father, did not.

And they didn't care to hide their disgusting opinions, either.

"I just... didn't realize how much we'd be in the public eye."

You'd told him that one evening, on a particularly hard day. He was afraid you would step down, leave him to try and wrangle this court on his own; but the truth was, he needed you. Wanted you. Would give anything for your help, opinions, and insight.

Tonight, he planned to show you just that -- to him, you'd always come first.

"I," he coughs, the winter wind catching in his throat. "I did, make plans for us. This evening."

He watched you turn to face him, your cheeks pink behind the hood of your cloak wrapped tightly around you. "Oh?"

A subtle grin flashed across his face. His large hand found yours, his fingers threading through your own as you made your way to the front door of your private quarters. Upon entering, he helped you out of your outerwear, even slipping your shoes off himself.

"Someone must want a reward," you tease. "All this kindness out of nowhere, hm?"

He chuckles, taking your hand and leading you to the dining room. Only alight by the candles on the table and crackling heart, your gasp bounces off the wall as the firelight follows.

"Eris-"

"Y/N, I need you to know you are my number one priority," he proclaims, his hand holding yours and the other sliding to the small of your back. You barely take in the dinner before you before looking up at him, tears welling in your eyes.

"You mean the most to me -- more than court matters, more than some fancy ball, even more than my own needs." A tear slips free, and hes quick to catch it with his thumb.

"I love you more than life itself; would you do me the honor of being my valentine this evening?"

You chuckle, more tears slipping down your cheeks. You grab him by the shoulders, pulling him to you and immediately pressing his lips to your own.

In a quiet whisper, only heard over the fire's crackling, you give your simple answer.

"Yes."

✿༺ 𝒯𝒶𝓂𝓁𝒾𝓃 ༻✿

You glanced at the note again, laying delicately on your nightstand.

"Be ready by 7... wear your favorite dress. I love you, T."

The handwriting was scrawled across the paper -- but, you knew it was his. Being married to the High Lord of the Spring Court -- well, let's just say you'd watch him write things out quite a few times.

You'd struggled to choose your favorite gown, as they were all so uniquely beautiful; but, you'd settled on the simple evergreen one. Tamlin always said it looked beautiful with your eyes, and your hair had grown long enough to drape over your shoulders, the neckline framed perfectly.

Just before seven, you heard the front door of the estate open and close. After a few quiet moments, the soft knock sounded at your door.

"Come in," you said, and you swear your husband's eyes oculd've fallen out of his head they grew so wide.

"Oh my, Y/N -- you're a vision, my dear." His words sent a blush across your cheeks as he approached, leaning in to press a small kiss to the side of your neck.

"You'll be sure to outshine everyone else this evening."

You turned, facing him. "Where are we off too?"

He grinned, his usually hidden smile always making an appearance in your presence.

"That you'll just have to wait and see."

You didn't have to wait long -- the two of you arrived at the symphony hall not to long after, the building filtering guests in and out.

Your heart lept in your chest.

"Oh, Tamlin!" You leaned in, kissing his cheek as he slid a guiding hand around the small of your back. "This is so romantic!"

"I am so glad you think so, my love."

You squealed in delight, your heart racing even more as he dropped to one knee, presenting a rose to you as you gazed down at him.

"Would you be my valentine?"

You laughed, bending at the waist to press your lips to his. Finding his hand, you helped him up, and he tucked the vibrant flower behind your ear. How thoughtful -- he even trimmed all of the thorns off beforehand.

"Who knew you could be such a romantic?" You teased, breathing in his scent as he pulled you close once more. You'd gotten all the way to your seats before leaning in, speaking so soft that only he could hear.

"I'll always be your valentine, T."

✿༺ 𝒳𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓃 ༻✿

You were no stranger to being spoiled by your man -- and today of all days, was no exception.

Xaden always went all out for you; expensive clothes, nice restaurants, and his taste in outings for the two of you was, well... expensive.

It didn't come as a surprise this morning when you woke up early, your boyfriend already gearing up for what you presumed would be a fun, long day of luxury.

He first took you to the art museum, insisting you wear something lovely as there was, of course, more to follow. You'd walked hand in hand among the exhibits, admiring each one for what they were. When you got to an ancient painting of Basgiath's dragons, you paused in wonder.

"Oh wow..." you breathed. Xaden raised an eyebrow.

"This one is beautiful."

His rough hand took your delicate one, turning you to face him. He pulled you close, his hands sliding to cup your face as he looked directly into your eyes.

"You are the most beautiful work of art here, Y/N."

That earned him one of the smiles he loved so much, just before pressing up onto your toes to kiss his lips. He grinned into it, sending your heart soaring as his usually tough demeanor slipped.

His cold exterior slipped even more when you arrived at your second destination of the evening -- one you'd been wishing to visit for years.

"Xaden -- did you bring me to the ballet?" Your voice cracked. His beautifully rare smile appeared again as he nodded silently. You gasped, your shoulders shaking as you tried to surpress the overflowing joy in your heart.

"Shhh, shh sweetheart," He coos, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you. You'd only so much as stepped inside the ornate building, the feeling of finally getting to see a show and with the love of your life only feeding the specialness of the moment.

"Xaden, you're truly the best," you whispered, pressing a little kiss to his jawline as he continued to run his hands soothingly along your back.

"You deserve the best, my valentine."

✿༺ 𝐿𝒾𝒶𝓂 ༻✿

"Liam... you really didn't have to do this."

Your charming boyfriend flashed his award-winning smile, one that warmed you from inside out. You'd only been dating a few months, and in that time you could tell that he tried to do everything perfect. Taking you flying on his dragon, planning special nights for the two of you, going to fancy restaurants; tonight was no different.

"I want to -- and, it is Valentine's Day, after all."

You grinned, a rosy blush painting your cheeks pink in the pale moonlight. You'd continued walking, hand-in-hand away from the restaurant. Liam didn't stop when you'd reached the scribe quadrant; instead, he kept walking toward the courtyard.

"Where are we..." you trailed off, your jaw dropping as you made your way onto the grassy lawn. There, dozens of Basgiath students were, lanterns ablaze as they lit and released them into the sky. Liam turned to you, chuckling as he took in your expression.

"I hope this is alright," he admits bashfully. "I wanted to do something a little more than just dinner, so-"

His sentence was cut off as you threw your arms around his neck. He laughed, his hands finding your waist as he hugged you back.

"Liam, this is perfect," you said, your voice muffled against his jacket. Pulling back, you look him in the eyes. "You really didn't need to do all this."

He grins, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

"I wanted to."

As you found an open spot on the field, you both sat, lanterns and markers in hand.

"So, the key is that you draw on these before we light them... I think." He explains. Glancing around, you realize most of the students in attendance donned all black. Suddenly, you felt a bit self-conscious in your tan attire.

"Have you... done this, before?" You asked. Liam looked down, focusing on his lantern as he scribbled furiously on it.

"Oh, me? Nah. I've never been to this before." He shrugs, pausing and looking to you. "Truthfully, I've... never really had a reason to come. Haven't had anyone to bring with me."

Now it's his turn to blush, and your heart skips a beat. The first girl he has brought to a rider's quadrant tradition... if you didn't feel special before, you do now.

You focus again on your lantern, trying to decide what to draw. Your heart screams to write what you feel; but then again, you wonder if it's too much.

In the end, you write it anyway.

"Okay, are you ready?" Liam helps you to your feet, concealing his lantern design as he readies the flame. You nod, doing the same.

"I'll go first." He lights his lantern, only turning it to you when it's ready to be released. You giggle as you read his wording enscribed across it: Will You Be My Valentine?

You light yours, turning it to face your boyfriend as adrenaline rushes through you.

I Love You, Liam.

His eyes widen, watching as both lanterns float upward in a tango of their own. When his eyes fixate on you again, you bite your lip anxiously.

He's to you in one long stride, his lips devouring yours with intent as your heart rate slows. His hands hold your face, keeping you as close to him as possible. When he finally does release you, his eyes are filled with pure admiration as he gazes upon you.

"I love you too, Y/N... so much." He kisses you again, and you can't help but chuckle as all of the weariness slowly fades from your mind.

He's the next to say anything, laughing as he looks to your lanterns once more. "So, I take that as a yes, then?"

✿༺ 𝐵𝑜𝒹𝒽𝒾 ༻✿

Your hands shook as you braced yourself against the side of the rink, the gloves you wore doing little to keep the cold air at bay.

Or, perhaps, you were nervous.

You'd never admit that.

"Have you never skated before?"

Your best friend's voice, filled with the calming quiet you loved, sounded behind you. Turning, you watched as he skated up behind you with ease.

Shaking your head in silence, you raised an eyebrow.

"You have?"

Bodhi flashed a cheeky grin, pushing off of the wall and skating a perfect circle before you. You scowled in frustration -- of course he would be good at this. He was good at practically everything.

Slowing to a stop before you, he stretched out a hand. You took it, trying to hide the trembling as his warm hand grasped yours.

"Do you trust me?"

You smiled softly. Do you trust me? Pfft. He asked you the same thing the first time he took you for a ride on his dragon. Ice skating should be rather simple.

"Bodhi, I think we're far past-" You squealed, your free arm flailing as he pulled you from the wall. Chuckling, he pulled you beside him.

"I'm -- Bodhi, I'm not very, uh," you stuttered, bending back and forth at the waist as you tried to regain your balance. A strand of hair blew into your face, and your best friend reached out to brush it from your cheek.

"Just hold onto me, yeah?" He said, his dimples popping as he noticed the blush on your cheeks. In an instant, he was off, sweeping you in effortless circles around the nearly-empty rink.

After a few hours and finally getting the hang of skating, you both decided your feet hurt a bit much to keep going.

You'd taken a seat on the bench outside the arena, picking and struggling with the laces on your skates as Bodhi slid his off with ease.

"Here; allow me." He bent down, kneeling before you as he untied and wiggled off your shoes. Cue the heat rushing to your face for the 1000th time tonight.

It wasn't until you were walking out and he slid his hand into yours that you really felt flushed.

In the dark of the night, the two of you walked back to campus, his hand in yours as though it wasn't the biggest deal in the world. You'd been friends for years at this point, but... things had changed. Bodhi got cuter. More interesting.

And, thus, he grew more interested in you, too.

"I uh, I wanted to talk to you about something. Before you go in." He fumbles, standing with you outside the front door of your dorm. You looked up at him in wonder, reveling in the way the light bounced off the planes of his face.

"Anything," you assured. "You can always talk to me, Bodhi."

His other hand ran through his hair, and you could tell he felt flustered.

"Well, I uh... tonight, you know." He shrugged. You raised your eyebrows, urging him to continue.

"I just... it's Valentine's Day." He coughs, and you chuckle.

"Yes...?"

"And," he continues. "And, I uh, well. Honestly, I've been waiting to ask you out for, Gods, I mean... what, 3 years now?" He chuckles, his faint freckles illuminated by the blush staining his cheeks. It isn't until he looks down at you, right into your eyes that you think you may be dreaming.

"I... uh. I like you, Y/N. Like, a lot." He huffs a laugh. Your eyes widen, taking in his admission. His lip gets caught between his teeth, his eyes searching yours for any kind of response.

"Oh... wow, Bodhi. I mean," you giggle, your arms slowly winding around his neck. "I... guess I thought I'd never get to hear you say that."

He grins, leaning in slowly until his lips finally grace yours. You kiss him back, softly at first. He backs you up, pressing you into the door as he continues to kiss you -- all three of those years, filled with longing looks and light touches finally finding resolve.

"Does this mean I can finally be your valentine?" You giggle, and he pulls back to kiss you on the forehead.

"You were always my valentine, Y/N."

✿༺ 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝑜𝒸 ༻✿

"Baaaabbbbbe!" Ridoc called, his voice penetrating through the bathroom door. You opened it, peeking out to find him sprawled on your bed.

"Whaaaaat?" You answered, and his head raised up off your pillow. His eyes widened as he sat up straighter. You pushed the door all the way open, one brow raised as he slowly got up off the bed.

"Oh... oh wow," his hand clutched his chest, and you giggled.

"Oh... oh wowie wow wow, Y/N," he stepped closer to you, and you couldn't help but blush.

"I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen!" He says, dramatically falling against the bathroom doorway. You burst out laughing, smacking his shoulder with one of your hoodie sleeves.

"Come on -- you've seen me in a hoodie a million times." You roll your eyes, turning to the mirror to inspect your hair one last time. You catch his stare through the mirror, his eyes cast downward.

"Are those leggings... new?" He asked. You turned swiftly, tilting his chin to look you directly in the eyes.

"My eyes are up here, mister." He winks at you, and you turn back around. "And no, I've worn these before."

After a few beats of silence and a few (not so subtle) glances at your butt, Bodhi clears his throat.

"We really should head out," he says. You chew the inside of your cheek, looking at your outfit one last time.

"You're sure this is appropriate enough?" This year, your boyfriend got the two of you seats at a comedy show. After dating for a while, you both realized rather quickly that you preferred a more lowkey, no-frills Valentine's Day.

"Yessss," he sighs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he leans his head on your shoulder. "You look perfect -- are you readyyyy?" He whines.

You giggle, your hands hugging his arms closer to you. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, letting go of you as you nod. He turns to walk out, his hand open-palm smacking your buttcheek before he does.

"Ridoc! I swear-" You charge out of the bathroom, his hands up in surrender as he laughs.

"Aww c'mon! You wouldn't really come after your valentine, would ya?"

✿༺ 𝐵𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓃 ༻✿

"We could always watch Die Hard," your husband suggests. You roll your eyes, pulling the steaming bag of popcorn from the microwave.

"Or The Matrix... ooh, or what about Terminator?" He suggests giddily from the couch. You walk over, instant excitement over the amount of blankets he'd piled up for the two of you.

"Bren, I don't like any of those movies." He sighs, and you press the remote to turn on Netflix. "Oh, what about Valentine's Day?"

He raises an eyebrow, reaching for a handful of popcorn. "What about it?"

You level a stare at him. "No, like, the movie. Valentine's Day."

He chuckles, chewing on another handful. "Yeah, I definitely like that one."

You giggle, scrolling through the list of movies on the platform. Brennan continues to munch, not agreeing with any of the fantastic options you're suggesting.

"Mean Girls?" Nope.

"Tangled?" Also no.

"How To Loose A Guy in 10 Days?"

That one got him.

After a while of snuggling, inhaling the prepared snacks, and watching in silence -- Brennan clears his throat.

"You're sure this is the kind of Valentine's Day you wanted this year?"

You tilt your head, looking him in the eyes as he watches you with worry. You lean up, pressing a kiss to his lips before smiling up at him.

"Absolutely," you reassure. He smiles, his arm around your shoulders pulling you in closer to his chest. "This is a perfect night, Brennan. Thank you for this."

He kisses the top of your head softly, his fingers lightly tracing along the skin of your arm.

"No sweetheart, thank you for being mine. My valentine forever."

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Animorphs #14: The Unknown thoughts (pt. 1):

Fascinating modification to my copy of this one: someone has added stickers to the back sides of the page corners to make the flip book work both ways. It starts with this, on the copyright page:

Then the sky scene has little swirls in it; I'm guessing the stickers are numbered to tell you which order to add them in:

And finally it ends on this:

Does anyone know what the deal is with these? It seems like it has to be Animorphs merch, from the morphing image to the hypertext symbols and one of the series's unofficial slogans. But I've never heard of this, and there's nothing in the book itself about a sticker set being included. Anyone remember seeing this from some kind of promotion, maybe at a Scholastic book fair?

No idea of the origin here, since I got this set used off eBay, but it's super cool and the kind of craft I would've loved as a kid.

Animorphs books can be read here | Book Club schedule is here

[seiwas]

hihi sel!! for your blurb game... hawks + nose + slow burn

thanks for sending this prompt bitti!! 💗

hawks + nose + slow burn

contains: non-canon au, commercial model!hawks, childhood best friends to lovers, pining, hawks gets drunk, reader dates a guy at some point, kinda cliche but i am a sucker for that

keigo's nose twitches when he lies.

it's a tell you've known well all your life.

when he was 5, he used to climb up a tree to practice how to "fly". it was really just him trying to parachute down using his bedsheets, but you watched every attempt―cheered him on whether it was a success or failure.

and when his mother's voice echoed down the park, you watched as he answered, "no," when she asked if he was trying to launch himself up to the sky.

you first noticed it then, the delayed reaction a few seconds after he had just covered up the truth: his nose twitched twice, a quick crinkling of his nose bridge. you didn't think much of it until it happened the second, third, and fourth time.

at first, you'd felt betrayed, being pulled by your ankles down into the swimming pool when he promised you he wouldn't. at 10 years old, you held these things like an oath―

"i promise! won't even go near you. see?" he swims away from the ledge you remain hesitant of approaching, hands raised up in surrender as he laughs.

―compelling; believable. trustworthy. water weighs down his otherwise bird's nest hair, taming it slack against his forehead. with his eyes forming into crescents when he smiles, he looks like the very image of a good kid down the block.

you get better at spotting it as you grow up together, and soon enough, you realize, it suits keigo to be a liar. he's charming above all, drips down sweet words like honey to anyone gullible enough to believe it. they're empty promises most of the time, but a lot of people fall for it, you notice. you included.

"i’m not interested anyway," he tells you at 18, right after graduation. one of the girls in your class was brave enough to confess to him and you’re curious how he feels about it, if anything.

being keigo's longest and arguably even best friend means that you know him better than anyone else. you were there when he was ugly, puberty catching up to him slowly. you’ve witnessed him just woken up, groggy from a full night of studying, because despite the nonchalance he often displays, he does care about his grades more than he lets on.

you know when he’s happy, when he talks about his dreams; the excitement he felt when he was scouted as a commercial model for a prestigious agency. you know his heart, beneath all his playfulness, how he keeps the people he values close to his chest and cares about them more than anything.

(you remember every single time keigo has lied on your behalf, nose twitch after nose twitch—that time you spilled grape juice all over your carpet and keigo told your mother that it was all his fault; when you forgot a book for one of your classes and keigo gave you his, taking the consequence of detention in your stead.)

you know keigo well because you love all the parts of him.

so when his nose twitches after he tells you he doesn't care much for relationships, your heart breaks just a little bit. you begin to wonder if keigo has a type, and if that girl fits right into it.

.

getting over keigo while still being his best friend is a herculean, if not impossible, task.

his career skyrockets and you go to university; your schedules are always in conflict but he still happens to be everywhere you look―ads on your instagram feed, wallpapers on your classmates' phones. there are shorts of his interviews constantly recommended on your youtube homepage and the feeling is both weird and comforting watching someone you know so well be so accessible yet difficult to meet.

you could reach out, sure, but you know he's busy enough as is. you don't think it's his priority to―

"come over soon," he texts you one thursday night.

your heart hammers against your chest, fingers numbing as you nearly drop your phone. it's embarrassing how quickly you type out, "when?"

but keigo is a fast texter, somehow always beating you to your replies first.

"this sat?" he double messages.

and you're about to reply "down" when he chats again, his words leaving an ache in your chest that you can't help but feel guilty for.

"haven't seen u in ages i think i'm starting to hallucinate hearing ur voice or smth."

.

spending more weekends together makes it harder for you to get over him, sitting on his couch as you both eat takeout; earlier today, you'd stumbled upon some stupid tiktok gossiping about all the dating scandals he's been embroiled in this past year.

you stuff chow mein down your throat, swallow it in big gulps as you glance at your best friend across you; he remains lax and unbothered as his legs cross in front of him, eyes on the the movie you're currently watching. it's a slow and painful process trying to get yourself to be just as uncaring about the entire thing, but with how often keigo lies, you find it hard to distinguish whether his "playboy" image is real or just for marketing.

curiosity gets the better of you when the question slips out, awkward and clearly fabricated.

"one of my friends is asking if i can introduce you."

you avoid eye contact in fear that he'll be able to tell you're making it up. no one from university knows you're keigo's best friend; he's kept you a secret just as much as you've kept him one.

"tell them sorry, too busy to date," he shoves a handful of popcorn straight into his mouth, chewing exaggeratedly to conceal the fact that his nose is twitching. his arm is slung over the back of the couch as you nestle yourself on the other end of it.

the topic is sensitive for the both of you; keigo always shoots down any opportunity to talk about his love life and you're always conscious of the fact that you might seem too eager to want to know what the real score is between him and the girl at the bar, at the photoshoot, at the gala, at the―

"am sure uni doesn't give you much time either, right?"

he changes the subject.

.

keigo is linked to a lot of people in the industry; it's a consequence of the job, as they say. rumors are neither confirmed nor denied and you're just as clueless as the public is despite the fact that you've known him your whole life and spend your weekends eating greasy takeout on his expensive couch.

you should move on, you tell yourself.

it doesn't mean anything that the throw blanket on his bed is the one you crocheted for him when he turned 21. the picture that sits on his entryway isn't anything more than a memento of youth with his best friend. sure, he makes time for you despite his busy schedule, but that's what all good friends do.

.

so, you start seeing someone. and when you tell keigo, things change.

it only makes sense that you hang out with him less, but he changes more than the circumstances do and you don't think that's fair at all.

he's started replying to you late, which has never happened before. and he's begun cancelling plans with you at the last minute, only for you to find leaked pictures of him at some bar with a bunch of people hanging by his arms.

keigo hangs around alcohol, but he rarely ever indulges, so having him call you shit-faced drunk right after he cancelled hanging out on the same weekend is definitely something new.

you’re in rare form driving his car to pick him up, hoisting him onto the passenger seat as he passes out to sleep. it’s only when you get to his apartment that he groggily wakes.

the elevator ride has him clinging to the side railings, his groans filling the tiny space. an empty plastic bag is ready in your hand in case he needs to hurl—which he doesn’t, thankfully—but he crashes on the couch as soon as he walks in the door.

you ready a glass of water and painkillers on the coffee table in front of him before grabbing the throw blanket from his bedroom. when you return, he's tucked into himself like a baby, knees curled up and arms crossed around torso in an embrace.

it both endears you and aches; you'd hug him if you could. if only your feelings could handle being closer to him than you should be.

instead, you settle for tucking him in, draping the crochet blanket over him as he snuggles into it.

admittedly, you're still kind of pissed; he did flake on your plans after all. but when he mumbles your name in his sleep, you find all of that anger flushed down the drain immediately.

.

the first time keigo meets the guy you've been seeing, you don't expect the hostility.

your best friend is your best friend for a reason—he's the warmest, friendliest person you know. even the media portrays him that way: charming and a little too flirty for his own good.

"quit it," you tell him when your kind-of-not-yet boyfriend goes to the restroom. you're pretty sure keigo's the reason he needed to go in the first place.

keigo sips his tea, doing a complete switch-up when he smiles at you and asks, "quit what?"

you roll your eyes, "i'm pretty sure he pissed himself because of you."

he snorts, shrugging his shoulders, "not my fault."

it is completely his fault.

from the moment your not-yet-boyfriend shook keigo's hand, your best friend has done nothing but stare him down―a piercing glare like that of hawk’s hunting its prey. you'd liken his grip to talons digging into skin if you could.

"you're such an asshole," you shake your head resignedly, chuckling. the horrible thing about this is that you kind of liked seeing keigo make him squirm.

"it's my job," he lifts his cup up to cheers.

(you find out later on that this is when your kind-of-not-yet boyfriend realized it would never work out.)

.

you're not crying when you tell keigo about the kind-of-break-up. you don't even think you feel that sad about it.

"sorry things had to end that way..." keigo says beside you, legs crossed under half of the crocheted blanket on his couch.

you give him a side-eye and notice his nose twitch. you'd know that fake sad tone anywhere.

"i was starting to warm up to him, you know..."

another nose twitch. you kick his shin under the blanket, the half on top of you rustling on top of your lap, "yeah right, nose-twitcher."

"ouch, that burned," he pretends to be hurt for the theatrics and you roll your eyes, chuckling in return.

everything about this moment is everything it should not be―it's too comfortable, too familiar, too easy. your relationship with keigo is everything you want but can't have and times like this remind you especially of that fact.

he's your best friend―

"why'd he break up with you anyway?"

―and is the reason why you can't seem to make it work with anyone else.

"i don't want to get in the way," your kind-of-ex started. you looked at him, confused.

"you have feelings for him," he further explained, "and it looks like he feels the same."

your kind-of-not-yet boyfriend said he'd caught that moment at the coffee shop as soon as he got out of the restroom―you and keigo laughing as you clinked cups.

you blink away the memory, shrugging, "don't know, just said it wasn't working out or something."

keigo hums, a beat of silence passing between the two of you before he speaks up again.

"well, it's his loss."

you turn to look at him and find sincerity; you're sure he means it, just not in the way you want him to, an awkward "thanks" mumbled under your breath.

.

things with keigo go back to the way things were, but not exactly.

his schedule miraculously clears up on the weekdays too, and he begins visiting your apartment to take you out for brunch whenever he finds the time.

he also stops going to bars and a whole year passes for him without any dating scandal, except for when he attended your graduation.

you try not to feel too happy about it, but when he's asked about the nature of your relationship, he says that you're important to him. the answer is still vague, but it's infinitely better than the way he used to evade all the previous ones.

"i'm rebranding," he tells you when you mention something about how you haven't seen any gossip tiktoks about him lately.

you push down the hope that fizzes in your chest, even when the biggest change of all is the fact that you think he's gotten clingy.

"wanna stay over again?" he asks you on a tuesday night as you're having dinner, on the table this time. you've already been here for the past two days.

you eye him suspiciously, "are you scared of your apartment or something?"

"no."

"so why?" you take a sip of water.

"no reason," he copies you, bringing his cup up higher to hide his nose; it twitches before you can catch a look.

"well, i have an early day at work tomorrow," you check your phone, "so you have to give me a better reason."

you stare at each other for a while, the silence suddenly turning a touch heavy, like suspense building up to an important scene.

he blinks. you blink.

you watch him intently, see every thought that crosses behind golden irises. he juts his lips out slightly, as if contemplating what he should say next, if he even should. it's unlike any expression you've seen on his face before, and you'd say he almost looks nervous if you only had a reference of how that emotion translates on him.

then he takes a small breath, closing his eyes half a second longer than a blink before opening them again, directing his gaze at you.

"it's better when you're around."

oh.

you don't exactly know how to respond to that; you know you shouldn't read into it too much, but then he continues―

"and i miss you when you're gone."

your breath is on hold, a measly "oh," drawn from you. time feels suspended at this dinner table, your brain finding words to say.

keigo doesn't let go of his gaze and his nose has not twitched.

you try to push it further.

"i'm," you start, already stuttering, "i'm sure you'll survive a day without your best friend."

the chuckle that escapes you gives him an option to downplay this entire thing—to turn it into a joke and make it clear once and for all that you stand no chance feeling the way you do.

except, he doesn't return your laugh. his gaze softens as he holds his stare, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile.

"and if you're more to me than just my best friend?"

you search for any sign that this is some cruel trick keigo's playing on you, that he's lying to get some kind of reaction again. but there's nothing—his nose completely still as he awaits your answer.

a/n: mostly unedited, this is so long help. at some point i started envisioning gojo ngl 😭 anyway this is my first time writing hawks! i'm not so sure if i got his character right because he's complicated but!! i enjoyed writing this (clearly with how long it is 😭😭). he knows that his nose twitch is his tell (reader told him at some point), that's why he tries to hide it sometimes! also he never truly dated anyone haha man is unfortunately very non-committal 🥹 i think getting to this point with reader is a big step! he had feelings for reader early on too but i think he's very careful with it (which is also why it took him this long to do something about it!)

hope you like this bitti! 💗

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Trey Clover: Eyes Up Here

Wow, glasses off Trey? He’s still making the same one brow lifted smirk though 😂 HE KINDA LOOKS LIKE SEBEK WITHOUT THE GLASSES... I don’t know how to describe this artwork + this voice other than saying “Trey fans all want one thing and it’s disgusting”/j; he just seems to attract people that are really into the beefy dad types.

Trey’s Campwear jacket also had Painted on it. I wonder if that’s a brand in the Twst world? And his cardigan is the color of dentist scrubs—

Rise and Shine!

Mornings were a blur. Not that they went by fast, but they were literally a blur.

When Trey woke, his surroundings were smears of color. Slapped together indiscriminately, no clear form or boundaries between the hues. It’s not until he slipped his spectacles on that everything cleared up, sharpening into proper shapes and recognizable objects.

Running a hand through his short hair, he gave a yawn as he wandered into the washroom. The ceiling was curved and patterned like the sky. Paired with grass-like tiles and flowery sinks and lamps, the space created the illusion of stepping outside.

The washroom was shared among all of the dorm's residents. A few of them had been so bold as to leave their toiletries around: deodorant sticks, labelled bottles of shampoo and conditioner. But there was never any mistaking of Trey’s things for another’s.

He was the only one with an entire case to carry his dental hygiene routine. There was: a main toothbrush (changed to a new one every 3-4 months, or whenever he noticed significant bristle damage), several specialized toothbrushes (one for the back, one for scraping the tongue...), two spares, a selection of flavored toothpastes (fluoride added), and three containers of floss.

No mouthwash though--"It washes away too much," Trey would tell anyone who was willing to listen, "the bad bacteria and the good. All the saliva and mucous. We need those things to have a healthy, thriving oral microbiome."

“There are 810 rules by the Queen of Hearts,” the Heartslabyul students often joked, “and just as many steps in the vice dorm leader’s teeth cleaning routine.”

"Come on, guys. It's not that long," he'd say. "The dentist recommends two minutes, twice a day. I only take a little more than that to make sure I get in all the crevices..."

Trey counted the seconds as he ran his toothbrushes along his teeth, his gums, his hard palate, his tongue and under it. Five minutes, including flossing and rinsing.

See? Not that long. He’d have to tell his dorm mates when he could.

He held out a hand in front of his mouth and exhaled. A puff of air was trapped for just long enough for him to catch a whiff of minty freshness.

Alright.

Satisfied, he left with his bag and books.

Students peeled down Main Street, on their way to class. He was one of hundreds, living his ordinary life.

And he liked it that way.

Trey squinted. A circle in his vision was out of focus.

He removed his glasses to check for imperfections. And, sure enough, there was a bead of water in the middle of his lenses—likely a stray fleck from when he had been diligently cleaning his mouth. In a blink of that blurred world, he wiped the glasses up and placed them back on his nose.

Everything returned to full clarity.

“Good morning, Trey-senpai!” a voice called out to him.

He slowed his walk, allowing you to match his pace. His mouth cocked to one side as you pulled into view. “Morning.”

There’s a faint cloud hanging around him. Something sweet, yet also bright. Minty sugar, you think, leaning into it. Mmmmm.

“Did you eat breakfast?” Trey asked, and you laughed.

“That’s so dad of you to say.”

“Breakfast is an important meal of the day.” Trey adjusted his frames. A flash of white-his teeth. “So? Did you?”

“Wellllll…” You let your voice trail off.

The white had vanished behind his lips, but your gaze still lingered there. You knew you were staring, but you couldn’t tear yourself away.

“Hey now.” He tapped the rim of his glasses. “My eyes are up here.”

“Oh, sorry!” you startled, face warming. “It’s just… you have a really nice smile. It’s hard not to notice it.”

“Is that right?” He chuckled, easily laughing—not at you, never at you, but with you. “I’m flattered. Most people don’t seem to appreciate one.”

“No one in your dorm?”

“No. I’m pretty sure most of the guys in Heartslabyul think what I do’s a little excessive. Even Riddle doesn’t totally get it.”

“They must be jealous. The results speak for themselves.”

“That’s kind of you. Hey, you know what?" Trey leaned down, cupping a hand to his mouth. His voice was amplified in your ear.

Your heart leapt, thudding like the feet of a rabbit scampering down a dirt path. Your flesh was on fire, though Trey laid not a single finger on you.

"Y-Yes?!"

"I think you have a really nice smile too."

He smirked—and fireworks went off in your head. One, two, three. Colorful flowers blooming in the sky.

Your hands flew to your cheeks, as if that would somehow help to cool you off.

“Haha, are you embarrassed?” Trey’s eyes crinkled, as they always did, when he was amused. “I’m glad I got to see it up close and personal for myself. It was worth it.”

“M-My eyes are up here,” you managed to shoot back. Scathingly, you hoped.

His responding grin was crooked. For a second, you saw the him that hid behind humility, the not-so-kind Trey. His kind, toothy smile laced with a trace of poison.

“My bad. I see now I should’ve been nicer to you.”

“Was that a dad joke?!”

“Maybe. Who’s to know?”

[artificial-suicid3]

My Anchor

Noah Sebastian x Reader

You found yourself staring at his hands as he drove, making all sorts of unholy thoughts swim around your head. There was always something you found attractive when a man drives, taking control of the wheel, shifting gears. You tried to focus on the music that was playing in the background and glanced out of the window.

“How much longer?” You asked Noah, glancing at him.

“We’re almost there.” He replied, taking another turn through the streets of Los Angeles.

You and Noah were meeting up with a few friends at this nice restaurant and bar, seeing as he had some free time and haven’t seen people for a while. It was rare for him to have any free time nowadays, he was always either in the studio or away on tour. But, he always made time to see people who he was the most closest to.

He pulled up in the car park, putting the car in park and turning the engine off. You glanced over at him, feeling the butterflies inside of you. He didn’t have to do anything to make you feel like a silly school girl with a crush. You always felt this way whenever you were around him, completely and utterly in love.

“You’re doing it again.” Noah teased you, noticing the fond look in your eyes as you gazed over at him. You felt your cheeks flush, heart skip at his voice.

“Doing what?” You asked innocently, but you knew what he meant. You just couldn’t help yourself.

“Staring at me with that look in your eyes.” He replied, looking at you fondly. He was used to the looks the fans gave him, but it was different coming from you. You looked at him like he hung the freaking stars in the sky.

“I can’t help it, you know what you do to me.” You spoke softly, making him grab your petite hand in his larger tattooed one. He brought his lips to your hand and pressed a kiss on the back of it, making you almost melt at the gesture. Every touch he gave you, made you feel like you were floating.

You and Noah headed inside the restaurant, Noah’s hand was on the small of your back as you found the table which was reserved. You both greeted the friends who were already there and sat down next to each other. He always needed to touch you, whether it was his hand on you or his leg touching yours. He told you it was because you were like his anchor, always keeping him grounded and keeping him above water.

You both were completely in love with one another, it was clear to anyone who was around you. Noah was a very private man, he didn’t have any social media as the fans got too much at one point. You had social media, but never posted much, you added things on your stories every now and then, some of them included little snippets of Noah which he didn’t mind. However, you always made sure it was alright with him first.

His hand was on your thigh, on the exposed skin. He was talking to one of his friends, whilst aimlessly rubbing your skin. Whilst he was talking, you got your phone and quickly snapped a picture of his hand on your thigh.

‘My anchor ⚓️🤍’

You quickly posted the pic on your story and put your phone down and took a sip of wine. Noah glanced at you, feeling your gaze on him again.

“You okay, love?” He asked, looking down at you and giving your thigh a squeeze.

“I’m absolutely fine, couldn’t be more happier.” You replied, feeling your body react to his presence.

Noah smiled softly and leaned down and kissed you sweetly. It was rare for him to kiss in public, but you weren’t complaining.

“Good, cos I’ve got a few plans for when we arrive back at home.” He said quietly and giving your forehead a quick kiss.

[kryptznnn]

♡- Let Me Know [IV]

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➸ INTERESTS; -atwow!neteyam x fem!metkayina reader

➸ BACKGROUND; -As the omatikayan family takes refuge within your clan, it seems sparks begin to fly when tension rises with the oldest brother and yourself over a shared family dinner. The question isn't what'll happen between you two, it's what'll you do to prevent things from getting further.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.4.5k romantic tension, jealousy, arguing, sorting out, romantic communication, romantic confession, fluff, kissing, mentions of future ties, etc.

➸a.i; - final chapter long awaited!! so sorry for the long wait but we’re here now amen, working on 3 reqs at the same time + updating other chapters bare w me!!

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♡- Let Me Know [III]

♡-Let Me Know Masterlist

After the incidents you were able to take your time and focus on yourself for a while. Letting your body heal from the injuries you suffered along with your mind from all of the past trauma you faced, it was enjoyable truly, especially with the support you had.

Overtime you grew closer and closer with each and every other Sully member. Cooking and cleaning along with Neytiri as you and your siblings heard the past stories of Jake and his time before and after becoming na’vi. His stories were amusing, and even Riti had tagged along with you a couple of times and she never seized to gasp exasperatedly or scream from shock. It would never fail to make everyone else laugh as you were quick to shush her as if you were her mother.

But of course, the more time you spent with her you would spend alongside her brother. Practically doing everything together and leaving the Sully family early to go along with the two and walk them home as you and A’tan shared your days before saying goodbyes and leaving.

Eventually as you were all together as a group you watched the sunset as you listened to everyone giving their stories or funny jokes to one another. Soon Riti yawned and began to rub her eyes before making her way over to you and cuddled into your chest.

“Someone’s sleepy, no?” You teased, embracing her before picking her up slightly and keeping her in your chest. Rubbing her back softly as you listened to her little hums as you paid your attention back to the others before your sister spoke.

“You’re practically her mother, the two of you are so cute. It’s as if she has a closer relationship with you than A’tan.” She joked, laughing as a couple others did too, A’tan included. You only shook your head and giggled softly, careful to not stifle Riti.

Ao’nung was quick to add on how right she was about her point, even mentioning the position the two of you were in now. You only shooed him off and confessed the fact that it was obvious you cared for her, as you and A’tan were close so it was practically destined for you two to bond.

“Everyone in the clan knows it already, they all trust me with their children more than anyone else. It’s obvious enough that I also want to be a mother when I’m of age so.” You added straining out the last part before feeling Riti pick her head up and squish your cheeks before putting her head back on your chest.

You laughed softly at her before kissing her head as she giggled also. You turned your head quickly to look up at Neteyam, who sat beside his sister and Roxto with a smile on his face, which soon changed as you felt a hand brush across your cheek and rest on your shoulder.

“You’d make a wonderful mother.” You heard A’tan spoke from your side, you turned to see his hand on you with a large smile plastered on his face. You smiled back at him and thanked him before he moved his hand away.

As you felt Riti begin to doze off in your arms and the sun had finally come down as the colors drained from the sky, and A’tan was quick to take her. You reached up for her out of instinct before standing up and accompanying the two as you waved back to the group.

“I’m going to walk them back, I’ll be back, okay? Please be nice and don’t do anything that’ll make me upset.” You said with a smile, watching everyone wave back to you except for Neteyam, who only looked off to the side with an upset expression on his face.

You only noted it and looked off to the side with a confused expression before turning your attention back to Riti and A’tan before walking off. You thought to yourself what could’ve made him upset, or more specifically at you, especially to the point where he didn’t even feel the need to wave back to you as you mentioned your departure.

As you began to walk alongside with A’tan you still couldn’t help but think of what was wrong. Maybe you were overthinking it or maybe he didn’t hear you, whatever it was hurt you though. It felt as if your head was splitting in two as you tried to make more solutions to calm yourself. You sighed heavily before turning your head off to the sea before back to A’tan before he spoke.

“What’s on your mind? You’re so out of it you aren’t walking straight.” He said, pointing to your form slightly before placing the hand back on Riti as support, you bit your bottom lip anxiously before focusing and speaking to him.

“Neteyam” you spoke, putting your head down as you listened to him hum in approval. There was a little silence between the two of you, you wanted to say something, but you couldn’t. It felt slightly disrespectful to the relationship you and Neteyam shared, whatever it was.

“I can tell he likes you; he’s probably upset over not being able to communicate it out.” He said, nudging your shoulder softly as you crossed your arm and kept your head down. Slightly surprised by him being able to tell Neteyam’s feelings towards you, but overall, he was bold and never tried to hide it.

“We did communicate, he told me he likes me… but right now I don’t know what he’s upset at me for.” You said, guilt consuming you as you felt your lip quiver slightly as your brows furrowed. You turned to look up at him quickly as he raised a brow at your statement.

“But you didn’t communicate how you felt to him?” He asked, now genuinely concerned for the situation. You only sighed and shook your head, thinking back a couple weeks ago to the moment back in front of your pod. The rush of adrenaline and excitement you felt with him, the nervousness that pushed the two of you to begin with. You heard a disapproving sigh from A’tan before he spoke again.

“Maybe that’s why he’s acting the way he is; he seems like a serious guy. Try talking to him later to see what’s up, he seems understanding enough.” He stated respectfully, nodding to himself and then nudging your side again attempting to cheer you up, you only hummed in response.

As the conversation between the two of you died down you soon arrived to his marui pod, waving your goodbyes and hugging a very sleepy Riti before turning back. You made your way back to the others as you thought to yourself how you would confront the situation and how you would confess to Neteyam. Truly you never expected any of this to get so far in a long period of time, but it hadn’t mattered. If you didn’t fix this problem now you knew it would never go away, only eat you alive out of guilt or grow from mixed emotions.

“Hey guys” you spoke cheerfully, a smile on your face as you saw them warming up by the fire and laughing with one another. They were quick to turn to you and wave and say their hello’s, all except Neteyam of course. You listened to your sister kid around yet again about your nurturing roll to Riti as you helped her walk back even though A’tan was more than available.

You only shoved her slightly with a laugh, saying it was a habit and you’ve done it countless times for everyone else, even Tuk. Even though it hadn’t seemed like it A’tan was your best friend, around your age and you’ve known each other since you were babies, it was common to always be with one another.

As you shared and listened to the insights of your siblings you heard a quick scoff from across them, turning your attention to Neteyam as he rolled his eyes. Your previous confusion had now turned into anger as you watched him, for someone who had just smiled at you before you spoke earlier, he sure knew how to act like an ass.

You thought to yourself for a minute, maybe A’tan was wrong for once. Maybe this wouldn’t be as easy as he implied or maybe Neteyam didn’t want to hear you or your confession, maybe he was just over you. Over the long days and nights that passed where you would prioritize your family and clan over spending time with him, talking with him. You felt your ears flare as they twitched slightly before you huffed, now turning your entire body in his direction.

“What’s your problem?” You asked him now visibly upset, you hadn’t realized it at the moment, but you had cut your sister off. She immediately went silent when she took in your upset reaction, especially when she saw who it was directed towards.

Now everyone’s attention was between the two of you, as you heard Lo’ak whisper softly to your brother you earned another scoff from Neteyam before he laughed at you. Not the laugh that you liked whenever you were with him sharing the small moments you did together, more of a laugh at was mocking you.

“Who said I have a problem with you? Y/n” he said, practically snarling your name as he spoke. You glared at him, gripping your hand into a fist before huffing again and turning your attention back to your sister. Everyone was confused at the small altercation between you two before you changed the topic of discussion asking your sister about something else.

During the entirety of the night, Tuk had crawled into Neteyam’s chest now as you glanced over to see him glaring at you continuously. Before peering over to his brother’s side and whispering something while pointing at you before laughing. You felt your tail sway back and forth behind you brushing the sand out of frustration.

Kiri was the first to leave, taking Tuk with her and walking off in the opposite direction from where you were previously seated back to their marui pod. Your sister had quickly moved you to close in the circle and take Kiri’s spot, as you were now closer to Neteyam, not helping your situation at all.

As you tried to ignore it his laughs and small remarks got louder and louder. He was bold to even do something like this in front of you, especially after spewing what you now convinced yourself was nonsense just two weeks ago. You felt your head throb again as if it was ready to split in two as you played with a small stick in the fire, now zoning out as you thought to yourself.

It hurt, and it hurt bad, no one else had known what had happened between the two of you and you had returned back here after getting your closest friends' advice just for things to turn for the worst. This isn’t what you expected or what you wanted in the slightest, and now you weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or get angry, maybe a mixture of both.

“Y/n!” You heard your brother call your name quickly snapping you out of your thoughts as he shook you slightly, the tears that rested in your eyes quickly rolling down your cheeks. He paused for minute before speaking to you again. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?” He spoke, you quickly wiped your face before shaking your head.

“Got too close to the fire, forgot to blink.” You lied attempting to play it off as a joke, and thankfully he didn’t catch on, only nodding and poking at your face before saying he was heading off and wished everyone a good night along with your sister.

Apparently, you hadn’t even realized it until you perked your head up to take a look of who was left, but Roxto had left a while ago also. Possibly alongside Kiri and Tuk when they left, or alone, who knows. Your ears twitched slightly as you heard Lo’ak suck his teeth before shoving his brothers' shoulder slightly from your side, practically scolding him.

“Talk about it, stop being an asshole right now, it doesn’t look good on you.” He spoke, quick to get up and grab his set of belongings before leaving his brother and coming up to you to say his goodbyes, you only got up slightly to wave to him before taking your original position across from Neteyam, giving the two of you more distance now.

“I don’t bite you know.” He stated flatly, you only scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. Continuing to play with the stick in your hand as you drew in the sand before coming up with a comment towards his attitude.

“No but your attitude does, and it’s annoying. So if you have nothing important to say I’ll be leaving too.” You growled in return, raising the side of your top lip softly as you barred your teeth for a moment, before pressing them into a straight line.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing, you can’t possibly think you’re the victim here.” He stated, you perked your head up as your brows furrowed, his arms resting on a log behind him where he laid his elbows back on as his legs were spread.

“Can't know what the problem is if you can’t open your mouth and shut your pride to say it.” You said simply, pointing the stick at him before going back to drawing in the sand, earning a huff from him.

“You want to know my problem? My problem is the fact that you’re able to communicate with everyone else but me. You can talk to your dear A’tan about how you feel or what you want but can’t with me. You can’t even make enough time for me, and till now I still don’t know how you feel. I’m many things y/n but a fool isn’t one of them, so don’t take me as one.” He spoke harshly, you only lowered your head at his words.

Along all of the actions and things that replayed in your mind you were only able to apologize to him over and over. The tears from before now coming back and stinging your eyes before they made their way onto the dry sand before you. Neteyam’s former demeanor had immediately changed, now taking in the nurturing role and coming over to your side.

Attempting to reach out and place his hands on you, which you were quick to swat off, the sound the slap surprising both of you. He was quick to apologize to you as you turned your head away from him, not wanting to look at him. He had confessed his emotions had gotten the best of him and he was jealous of your relationship with A’tan, but more hurt of how much distance there was between the relationship the two of you shared.

He wasn’t wrong honestly, and when you pictured yourself in his place you would’ve been beyond upset. You only listened to his words as he spoke for the most part, you had tried counting the minutes that passed as he spoke and poured everything out, but eventually you lost track.

As his speech came to an end you thought of what to say to him. How to confess how you felt for him deep down that you wanted out for so long, now instead of thinking of what he might like or what’ll make him happy you thought of yourself. What’ll make yourself happy and comfortable to share with him that he would understand as he spoke to you placing a hand on your shoulder, making you turn around swiftly.

“Please, please y/n just say something to me, anything.” He begged as you took in his facial expression, he wore a frown on his face as he spoke. Just then an idea sparked into your mind, you could do it, just not necessarily speak. You motioned for him to follow along with your hands as you snagged his attention.

‘I love you Neteyam, and nothing will ever change how I feel for you, I see you.’ You signed to him, then apologizing for it taking so long for this to happen as you were challenged mentally by everything collapsing on you at once. It seemed he hadn’t heard any of your words and was only focused on what you signed to him, because a small smile crept up on his lips before forming into a large grin as he soon hugged you.

He serenaded you in positive affirmations as he pulled back, speaking of how happy he was to finally see, feel, and hear how you felt for him. Apologizing yet again for his actions and harsh attitude towards you earlier, to which you pardoned and laughed along with him.

Overtime the two of you spent small talk and laughter in your position, looking off to the sea as you yawned. Neteyam peered over at you before taking in your now sleepy face, saying it was best if you two returned back to your homes. If you had more energy, you probably would’ve faught it off, saying no and that you would much rather stay here with him, but you were too tired too, so you eventually obliged.

As you two walked back towards your home you exchanged subtle glances as your hands would brush against one another softly. Soon he crept his hand into yours before entwining them as you now reached the front of your marui pod. You thanked him with a soft hug as you left his hand go before placing a soft kiss to his cheek and smiling at him.

He was quick to grab your hand afterwards and pulling you back in, as his face was just inches away from yours. You felt your face flush out of embarrassment and anxiety before stepping back and wishing him a goodnight before quickly entering your home. He only laughed to himself as he watched you, in all honesty you had prayed to Eywa that he hadn’t seen your flustered state in the dark of night.

As majority of prayers go this one remained unanswered as he had apparently seen it, especially from the glowing freckles on your cheeks that heightened your face for him. He only shook his head as he thought to himself before he turned around to walk in the opposite direction back to his marui pod.

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It was late at night, very late as you sneaked around past your family’s pod to go out to sea. Earlier within the day Neteyam had whispered to you to meet him there, and since you had nothing better to do other than sleep you decided to go.

Or maybe the incident from last month th gave you such a thrill you weren’t able to contain yourself. It had replayed in your head for days and you hated the fact that there was no one to truly share it with. You were anxious, but you considered whatever to come worth it. You were able to move entirely freely now as your wounds had healed and your bandages had been removed.

You stood underneath one of the long trees that rested in front of a rock as you waited, thinking to yourself you must’ve been early before hearing rustling and footsteps coming your way. As you picked your head up to see who had come a large smile was plastered on your face when you saw Neteyam.

You had thought it over with yourself over the past week, and although you couldn’t share every exact detail you were able to somewhat talk to your mother about it. The things you felt when you were with Neteyam, or how you would smile so hard your cheeks hurt and felt as if they burned.

You had also mentioned to her everything she taught you to look for when finding love. Saying you felt everything she did and told you, but you were scared of the differences between you and the person who you liked. She only hugged you and reassured you that it would all work out to be, no matter how different we may look, sound, or act we were all one underneath Eywa.

If it was the differences between the two of you that was feared if it wasn’t meant for you to be together Eywa would’ve split your paths by now for sure. If she hadn’t that means it was meant to be, you were destined to find one another and you had every right to be happy.

She even mentioned how you were the oldest and carried so many responsibilities for the family and entire clan as the eldest daughter of the oleyktan. If there was any chance you were happy and free from it all for a while with someone who made you feel special by all means take it, just let her know in advance.

Also let her know what you two will be doing, because she hadn’t wanted to be a grandmother so early, you only laughed at her ending result. Constantly reassuring her you would draw the line there with him until the both of you were older and mentally ready for one, if the conversation would even start.

“Hey, I’ve been missing you all day” he said, walking up to you and sitting beside you. You laughed and shook your head at him, wearing a confused question at his statement.

“We saw each other this morning, have you been swimming around so much that the water has entered your brain now?” You asked, poking him in the head slightly before the two of you burst out in laughter.

It was nice being like this and enjoying one another’s company. It had seemed as if the weight of everything previously had lifted off of your shoulders every time you were with him. You were happy, although several arguments and confusion were raised between the two of you over the span of the month they had been here, you were happy.

If this is what love was or what it’s supposed to be you never wanted to leave it, if anything you didn’t want to feel anything other than love. You had learned a little more about him over the time shared with you two, as he did to you.

“It’s nice being away from everyone, for once in a while.” You spoke, now sitting closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder softly. He wasted no time in placing a hand over you from behind as support as you both looked out at sea.

He only nodded in response as the two of you then began to sit in silence. As you rested you heard Neteyam’s breath hitch slightly before he wet his lips to speak.

“I told my family about us.” He said with hesitation, now looking over at your figure slightly to see what reaction you’d give him. Your eyes widened as you perked your head off his shoulder to turn to look at him, it felt as if something in your stomach churned.

“What” you breathed, a hand over your belly trying to seize the churning inside it. The way your nerves just spike over things as small as this or situations that catch you off guard always made you feel weak. He swallowed before speaking again as he now took in your expression.

“They’re happy for me, for us. My dad hugged me until I couldn’t breathe, he said he was proud. Kiri said she could already tell and Tuk was screaming.” He said with a smile on his face as he turned to the side for a while, you blinked as you caught your breath.

You took in his words now, somewhat happy at his words and the support from his family, but more or less confused by his terms. It’s not as if the two of you were mated, the two of you were young and had the rest of your lives ahead of you. You hadn’t even kissed yet and he’s already told his family about you? What exactly did he say about you?

“What did you tell them exactly?” You asked, looking up at his face before looking out at the sea. You took a quick glance at his face seeing him smile before playing in the sand as he looked your way before speaking again.

“Well, I told them about my um… confession, during Kiri’s incident. Then that you felt the same way.” He confessed, nodding to himself as he spoke as if he was proud of himself for it. You scoffed slightly and smirked before placing your hand on his thigh.

“You didn’t tell them we kissed?” You kidded, giggling a little bit before feeling him pick up the same hand you had on his thigh before holding it. You stopped laughing after seeing him not laugh as he moved in closer to you.

“But we didn’t kiss, unless you want to change that now?” He said, squeezing your hand a little tighter now as his other hand made its way to your hair, brushing it out of your face and behind your hair. Your breath hitched now as you could tell he was serious, and you only kept your eyes on his face.

The freckles on his face were glowing softly, making his eyes seem brighter in the dark night. By the look on his face from how he scanned yours with his eyes you only assumed your face was doing the same. The two of you smiled softly as you were quick to turn your head off to the side, anxiety eating away at your stomach.

Neteyam took a quick move at your actions and cupped your face, turning it back slightly for you to look back at him. Nodding at you before you looked up at his reluctantly, explaining your nervousness to him. He promised you that there was nothing to be scared of, and if anything, you’d enjoy it.

And he was right, for the first time out of many he wasn’t wrong. Because as the two of you had your hands firmly grasping onto the other as your lips had interlocked you couldn’t feel anything else other than happiness and the small fluttering within the pit of your stomach.

His kisses were passionate and soft, he was delicate with you and you loved it. You had tried to share the same energy and delicacy he had but didn’t last long, breaking the kisses the two of you shared every so often to catch your breath as you smiled at him before kissing him again.

“Looks like we changed it, turns out we can tell everyone we kissed.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn 🌸my main navigation

[riddlemearose]

Linked Universe Combat Guide (part 2)

This is Part 2 of my attempt to make my fight scene notes into a coherent and understandable guide. Lord only knows if I'm being successful on that.

Part 1 can be found here.

General Notes once again:

The additional weapons/equipment is anything outside of the literal sword and shield you get in-game that could be used as a weapon, but does not include bombs, bows + arrows, or boomerangs bc I'm not writing that every time.

7 out of 9 Links are left-handed and this will have an affect on combat if they're fighting against human enemies.

-> any ambidextrous fighters in the group is largely a headcanon but go nuts w/ it.

This is looking at lore-accurate fighting ability bc you can scale down to however you headcanon they fight. Any additional arguments are logical conclusions/presumptions I'm making off of their in-game skills and/or character history.

Once again, researched to the best of my ability but I'm not claiming this has everything in every game. Fact checking is welcomed!

Also here's an article discussing the pros and cons of chainmail vs plate armour, since this group is the more armoured lot of the Chain

Minor update 9 March 2025: added a link to a reblog explaining a note on Warriors' section in better depth.

Upadte 3 May 2025: added more info to Warriors' section, provided by @interlink-au, as well as amended & added to other sections with more info they gave me in their reblog.

Sky

The most important thing in Skyward Sword’s combat is that you are fast. You Are Speed. That is Sky’s greatest advantage.

Feint. Always, always feint; then, when the enemy goes to block the feint, quickly attack from the opposite direction.

Sword techniques*: -> Shield Bash: reflects projectiles and knocks enemies off balance. Requires perfect timing but leaves an opening to take advantage of. -> front-flip slash -> back-flip slash -> jump attack -> fatal blow -> Skyward Strike/Sword Beams *Certain techniques cost stamina.

Unlike Warriors and Wild, Sky is near the start of the timeline, meaning he doesn’t have the same type of modern military-esque knighthood structure that future versions of Hyrule have. Consequently, we don’t see anyone in Skyward Sword really use any weapons outside of short swords, leading me to believe Sky’s main proficiency is really in them alone.

Sky is highly adaptable in a fight. He learns very quickly when enemies will block and when they will go to attack, which means he can deal with them extremely quickly. Arguably this means that he is not exactly built for long-term fights, but he can get through them if he must. I’d almost call him as a Glass Cannon, but he’s sturdier than that, so he gets the Lightning Bruiser name tag instead.

Happily arguing that Sky would be very good at mounted archery, even if it's obviously different to horseback. I know Loftwings can be taught that corkscrew manoeuvre that acts as an attack, but given sword-based combat wouldn't be feasible when you're riding a giant bird so I'm dying on this hill.

Additional Equipment/Weapons: -> whip (pls use this, whip fighting is great. They can deal a lot of damage if you hit someone with the end.) -> clawshots -> slingshot/scatter-shot -> gust bellows -> guardian potion+ (invulnerability, baby!)

Time

Time is fun bc he’s about 20 years older than he was during his adventures, which means you can kinda go ham with what he does and doesn’t know.

To kick things off, Time gets the honour of being the first Link (on this list) to have canonical multiple sword proficiencies: longsword, and short sword + shield. I will very happily argue and die on the hill that Time 100% has some staff proficiency given how Deku sticks can be used in OOT. If you go with this, use European-style quarterstaff techniques instead of Chinese-style bō/gun staffs.

The Biggoron sword isn’t any specific type of longsword, given the sheer weirdness of its blade shape. I think most people seem to agree that it’s a great sword, which at the extreme basics is essentially a longer longsword. I use claymore combat videos to get a feel for writing the Biggoron sword, and have used this specific video a few times.

Given Time’s +20 years from his adventures, we all pretty much believe he's mastered the Hidden Skills he passes onto Twilight, both with a short sword and the Biggoron sword. These are still gonna be listed in Twilight’s segment however, given they feature in his game.

Time also has a magical aspect to his combat, both in terms of literal magic items and then his two combat-focused spells.

Potentially Combat-Focused Masks: -> Transformative Masks: Deku Mask, Zora Mask, Goron Mask, Fierce Deity Mask, Giant’s Mask -> Other Masks: Blast Mask, Bunny Hood, Stone Mask

Spells: -> Din’s Fire -> Nayru’s Love

Important note: as stupid as this reminder is going to sound, Time only has one eye. He has a decreased field of view and decreased depth perception. He probably has a way to compensate for this, but it is a disability that shouldn't be forgotten. My mother is visually impaired in one eye and it affects how she reads things, how she drives, how she uses footpaths etc etc. It's not ableist to remark on Time's partial lack of sight. If anything, how he compensates for it is something I've been meaning to explore - I just haven't been able to get my head to world build it coherently.

Thanks to interlink-au for reminding me I didn't add this, but Time is good at mounted combat. I'm hesitant to say he's able to do mounted archery with his vision impairment though as, if I use my mother's experience (legally blind in one eye but has some vision), his depth perception is probably crap.

Additional Equipment/Weapons: -> powder keg (yes, Time carries TNT) -> hookshots -> longshot -> Deku nut -> Deku stick -> slingshot -> golden gauntlets -> megaton hammer -> Great Fairy Sword (according to info found by interlink-au, this is now likely an arming sword, which is just a fancy word for a broadsword tbh) -> Gilded Sword

Twilight

The Tank™

Most adept at horseback combat. An FYI but the fact that Twi defaults to using a one-handed sword on horseback is extremely telling of this point. For the most part, light cavalry were equipped with polearms/lances and bows with a sabre on the side. I know it's partially an animation thing but Twi being confident enough to get close to an enemy on horseback to use a one-handed sword is huge sign of his skill and proficiency.

Hidden Skills: -> Ending blow -> Shield attack -> Back slice -> Helm Splitter -> Mortal Draw (my beloved <3) -> Jump Strike -> Great Spin

Extremely important to remember how stupidly strong Twilight is. Dude can yeet a charging Goron, only needing his iron boots to stay where he is. This can be showcased in multiple ways: fist-fighting, emphasis of the strength of his shield bash, etc etc. He's likely capable of hand-to-hand combat as well, given his strength and knowledge of sumo wrestling.

Most tanks are slow, but Twi is actually rather speedy, even as a hylian.

(Btw if Twi places a bomb on the ground in front of him and holds his shield up, he will take no damage when the bomb explodes. Fantastic way to kill stalfos and annoy Darknuts.)

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> slingshot -> ball and chain -> clawshots -> dominion rod (if you're feeling experimental) -> spinner (?????? Somehow????) -> crossbow -> Twi’s weird magic armour (note: crossbows don't actually replace bows; they have their own pros and cons. See this YouTube short for some context)

As a wolf:

This is where Twilight becomes less of a Tank and more of a Glass Cannon. Wolves are very fast and, depending on how much Twili magic you headcanon Twilight has access to, he can get in and out of combat easily.

But most importantly, Twilight has very little defence as a wolf so he can't tank hits nearly as well as he can as a hylian (as the comic has already shown).

Main threat is obviously his jaw strength; Twilight is able to latch onto enemies, usually by biting down on their throats or shoulders. Pls be aware that ordinary wolves can bite through bone if they get the angle right.

Normal wolves don’t attack with their claws bc they’re not cats, but Twilight has human-level intelligence and can do whatever he wants within the confines of his body.

Twi also has a charge spin attack as a wolf. Do with this knowledge what you will.

Warriors

Proficient in multiple weapons and has adaptable fighting styles.

A few of his canonical fighting styles are listed at the end but depending on which era of knighthood you want to take inspiration from, he can also be proficient in lances and pole-arms, long-swords and sabres, and hand-to-hand combat (predominately Greco-Roman style wrestling but don’t let that stop you).

No specific sword techniques shown outside of the spin attack and jump slash. -> Updated info from interlink-au, which I'm just going to copy and paste for ease of access, with minor edits so this doesn't get bogged down: "First off, he is very fast. He needs to get around that battlefield quickly to help struggling allies. Even without the Master Sword, he can do something similar to a sword beam (a disc-shaped air slash). With the Master Sword, his swords beams are ridiculous. He can spam those things left and right and in the air, and send 3 at the same time. He can also do a vertical spin and spin attack into the air, where he can get some normal slashes in while he’s aerial. He can juggle enemies in the air for a second. He has a move where he dodges and immediately follows with a thrust. Its use reminds me of Wind’s parry attack. He also has a shield bash (more like a charge) followed by a sword thrust. Wars' magic rod doubles as a fire rod. The magic rod portion shoots laser beams and controls orbs. The fire portion can send out fire pillars/tornados. He can even send out a stream of fire that flies around like a dragon. He can even transform it into a battle axe for some reason."

Also proficient in combat on horseback but I’m not listing his Epona as a weapon lmao. -> interlink-au added that Wars is good at mounted archery too!

Has an innate passive (potentially magic?) ability to tag enemies with a ‘Light Mark’, which causes them to take increased damage from every attack for as long as his Triforce mark is glowing. This is triggered after a certain amount of enemies are killed and ends a few seconds after he stops dealing damage. Best used in his era but still viable in others.

Also, Wars’ lil inverse-grip upward slash finisher for one of his Master Sword combos? *chef’s kiss emoji* we love to see it -> (reverse grips are technically not great bc of the increased chance of literally breaking your wrist, among other things. However it looks cool as hell) -> Update: for more info on this bc I hadn't explained it well, I've covered it in more depth in this reblog here.

A lot of Wars’ fighting style is best copied from visual mediums, but given that search results generally like to give you Age of Calamity videos, this video is a good one to focus on. interlink-au also points out that his other fighting styles in-game are very useful to study visually, but I'm not going to list them here in-depth. Here are some links to videos for them. -> Ball and Chain (note: power/silver gauntlets should be thought of as separate too and would be very good for intense hand-to-hand combat - think Vi from Arcane). -> Spinner -> Magic/Fire Rod

Full disclaimer I tried to play Hyrule Warriors in December. I got through 5 hours and the game gave me such wicked eye strain I couldn't look at a screen for 2 days straight so I had to stop. But what I did pick up is Wars is not someone to fold quickly under pressure. You do a lot of that game with very few PCs on the map while a LOT of emergencies come at you full-speed. Wars is fantastic at balancing out who needs help literally right this second and who he unfortunately has to delay assisting. These are not easy decisions to make, but they are extremely critical ones that must be made in war or any combat zone.

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> fire rod -> power gauntlets (from interlink-au, this is used w/ the ball and chain and also separately. -> spinner (again, potentially??? Somehow. I will put this Beyblade into a fight scene one day) -> hookshots -> hammer

Wild

The Ultimate Dodge Tank

BOTW’s entire combat system is literally "Do Not, Under Any Circumstances, Get Hit", to the point where the game actively rewards you for dodging and parrying. This means that Wild’s entire fighting style is based around memorising everyone else’s fighting styles.

Proficient in multiple weapons and weapon-types (i.e. short swords, slashing swords, longswords and spears) and good at using bows in close combat, though he does not get to utilise his champion ability while dodging if he’s holding a bow.

Pls be aware I do actually mean it when I say ‘multiple weapon types’. You DO NOT use a scimitar the same way you use a broadsword, nor a battle axe the same way you do with a claymore. Me @ BOTW’s animations: CHANGE THE FIGHTING STYLES UP YOU COWARDS.

No specialised sword techniques outside of the basic spin attack and downwards slash.

Proficient with all weapon-types while in mounted combat (either on a horse or the Master Cycle Zero), and great at mounted archery too obviously.

Has arguably the strongest Champion Ability next to Urbosa’s Fury, as it’s automatically triggered if the conditions are met and is very hard to block or defend against. And on that topic, let’s begin.

Flurry Rush: -> damage output adjusted for weapon type used (short swords attack x7 times, long swords attack x4 and spears attack x7-10) -> bypasses enemy shields and invincibility frames -> Wild can be knocked out of this (either by being damaged by an enemy or by mistiming the start of his flurry rush – i.e. landing on a sloped surface will cancel a flurry rush before it begins.) -> flurry rushes still affect weapon durability

Bullet Time: -> requires falling from height obviously. -> Your Stamina! It Goes Down! -> also this is the only thing that really changed in TOTK’s combat: stamina is used when firing arrows, not just by entering bullet time itself.

Perfect Guard: -> you can perfect parry literally almost anything, including a bokoblin being thrown at you by a moblin, wolves, and apparently bees. -> negates explosive damage (i.e. remote bombs, bomb arrows, that one Lynel attack) if you manage to consistently get the timing right. I have not, so take this with a grain of salt <3 -> generally only used for Guardians (as far as I've seen from fellow players) and kinda falls to the wayside in TOTK bc there’s no real incentive to use it. -> does not give Wild any actual chance to utilise his champion ability even tho I like writing that it does bc then it would be a useful thing to learn in totk, Nintendo! Shocker!

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> literally whatever he can get his goddamn hands on -> “You’ve heard of set bonuses, right?” -> Sheikah Slate

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Depths 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: fisherman!Geralt of Rivia x artist!reader

Summary: your sleepy existence is thrown into chaos by a mysterious man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The water crashes onto the coast. The sound is dulled by the distance of your perch. The sky melds into the lake's surface as the sun hides behind a swathe of clouds.

You lean in to squint at the strokes on the canvas, sweeping your brush in repetition of the rippled horizon. You use the wnd of the brush to scratch your cheek.

Almost...

You peek above the easel and watch the small speck growing larger as it moves across the water. The fishing boat is there so often that you've added its silhouette to the acrylic tides. A stalwart to your early mornings and listless afternoons.

Day after day is layered before you in shades of cerulean, slate, and lavender. The grey sky with a tinge of golden sunlight, the waters stirring in sparkling shades of aquamarine and pearl, the coast rippled in fawn and umber. Another eye might see it and deem it finished but not you.

You step back to let the paint dry and rinse your brushes in the jar. Hmm. You're out of clean water.

You close up the easel and hook the canvas on the backside, carrying it like a briefcase as you pick up your canvas bag with your roll of brushes and pots of paint, your palette around your index finger.

You make a slow descent down the cliffside and curl around towards the shore. You veer away from the dock and head down into the silt. You put your stuff on a flat rock. You take the used brushes and palette to rinse in the shallows.

The water laps over your sandals as you linger in the soothing cool foam. The approach of evening skews the water with emerald and jade. You shake it all off and step back to dry it with a paint-blotted cloth.

You rearrange the bag so it all fits and hook it over your shoulder. You look down at the your linen apron. You can recall where every splotch and streak came from.

You take your easel and canvas and head back up along the dock. As you reach the post, the fishing boat knocks against the other end. You peer over at the man that lays a board across the spanse between.

You see him every night. You couldn't forget a man with snow white hair and golden eyes. His age is less than his locks might suggest and his eyes seem to look through you, not at you.

You smile, like you do every night. He doesn't react. Just like every other time.

The smell of fish wafts in the boat as he drags his net across the wooden ramp. You turn and press on. He's much to busy for you. It doesn't bother you. You came out here to get away from people.

Your feet leave divets in the dirt as the rock of the boat knocks in a rhythm against the dock. The man's toil adds to thunks and thuds and they fade behind you. The peace here is immaculate, you wouldn't want to ruin it for anyone else.

Past the seaside houses left vacant in the colder seasons and the smaller basins of the lake, between the rocky ridges and grassy knolls, you return to your little house.The cornflower paint chips from the wooden siding and the stairs are worn in the middle from the tramp of feet. A bench stands on the other side of the white railing between a plinthed flowerpot and folding table with a book forgotten on its slats. Home.

The spindly wreath on the front door rattles as you push through and the screen door snaps behind you. The evening breezs drifts in through the mesh as you set your easel down and rest the canvas on crate just beside the mat. You put your bag in front of the wooden stand and bask in the calm.

You hang your wicker hat and untie your apron. Your hands are covered in paint. You'll wash them before you eat. You leave your wet sandals at the door.

You pull out the pot of chowder you made two nights past from the fridge. You put it over a burner and wait for it to warm. The fare lasts you near a week when you take the time to put it together. Every ingredient must be used to its last, especially when it is so far to market. And expensive.

You scoop out a bowl and eat it on the front porch. Your eyes are too tired to read. When you finish, you recline on the bench and yawn. You lay in the dimming hue of the evening as the stars wink down at you.

A whistle carries on the wind. You sit up and look for the culprit. They are close enough to hear but that could still be far. It could even be a bird.

You take the empty bowl inside and rinse it. You retreat to the bedroom and change

You open the window to let the night in. Around here, you can do that. Not like the city and its grated windows.

You laze in the dusk shade and drift slowly into yourself. Sleep enshrines you atop the cushy bed, the water stirring from afar, the loons calling into the dark. Tomorrow you'll figure out the exact right colour for the undertow.

You're more than due to sell a new piece. You need to if you want to stay in paradise.