#//THIS GOT LONGER THAN ANTICIPATED WHOOPS

[ravarui]

@a-musing-mixologist continued from here

To say that he had been surprised when the rookie and three others of his crew had gotten washed ashore of Elbaf would be an understatement. Their ship had sunk to the bottom of the ocean and Shanks had thought the young captain had shared the fate. Died like most others of the crew. Fate however had clearly other plans, given the sea had spit him out again, as well as three others with him. One he recognized as the first mate and the one who had tried to shield his captain when Shanks had attacked.

The emperor was leaning against the wall of the infirmary of the ship, they had patched the younger and his blonde friend up a bit, given the injuries they had sustained. Not that Shanks felt any remorse for his actions. He had done what was necessary. The other two crew members were kept in the brig for now. The least he wanted was to keep them together somewhere.

"What I did? I protected my territory." He knew it wasn't the answer the other wanted, but it was the only he would give him. "Thought the warning you got the last time you came after me was enough, but I guess not." Shanks had barely paid attention the first time Eustass Kid had tried to challenge him. All he had wanted was to sleep off a particular bad hangover, so he had send Benn to deal with the yapping rookie. A task his first mate had fulfilled without much struggle, not that Shanks had had any doubts about it in the first place.

Yet the other had come back and he could only figure that his victory in Wano had caused him to grow over-confident. A mistake that usually ended in servitude to an emperor or in death. On some occassions in neither, like their first meeting had proven, but that was mostly on him. Unnecessary bloodshed wasn't what he preferred, but he also had no problem in killing if the situation called for it.

Finally he took a step closer, storm-grey eyes showing a coldness that rarely appeared in them. "If you try anything stupid, your friends are the ones to suffer the consequences first. Got it?"

[naranjapetrificada]

This post is making the rounds again for whatever reason and besides all of the things that like, make absolutely perfect sense about it, for whatever reason it's also made something click about Izzy characterizations in fic that do or don't work and why and how I can (in ADHD veteran fashion) "trick" myself into handling him and his nonsense more easily.

We're always reminding people about his status as a device vs an actual character, and that's something I've understood implicitly about the show but only intellectually in fic for whatever reason. Sometimes you can "know" something without truly internalizing it and you need like, the stars to align in a certain way on a certain day before you actually know what to do with that information. I guess that day was today? Anyway.

I've talked about what I will believe about an Izzy characterization and what I won't, and those things still matter, but what's behind them is the question behind any storytelling device: what's being attempted/accomplished with him here?

And when you take away everything else about it and deal with the question head-on, it's usually extremely straightforward to answer, even with portrayals that absolutely don't work for you or may not have been intentional on the author's behalf. In fact, it can even be tied to the thing I was just saying about understanding something on an intellectual level versus actually internalizing or believing or buying into it, and how that intersects with Izzy as a device instead of a character. Because here's the thing, like The Thing the thing about Izzy in fic, from the most sympathetic canyon-cooked apologia to the most excoriating condemnation:

He's still not a person, he's a tool.

And he'll never be more than that. There are writers who understand this both intellectually and implicitly, there are writers who understand it intellectually but have yet to internalize that understanding, and there are writers who reject the premise outright. But every single one of those writers still ends up treating him that way whether they mean to or not, because we're not given more than that to work with.

Whether someone is writing a nice guy OC with Con O'Neill's face and naming that guy Izzy or is making an effort to adhere as close to the text of canon as possible, they're all just using him as a tool. Maybe they're using him as a tool to reveal something about the world or the other characters, or maybe to move the plot forward. Maybe the message they want to convey is just that they think he's hot and/or they find something compelling enough about him (or Con O'Neill's portrayal of him) to make them want to build up whatever they need to to make him seem sympathetic. But you have to engage in a great deal of invention if you want him to be more than that, at which point he starts to go all ship of Theseus.

Izzy is a character in the way that the letters I'm using to form the words that make up this post are characters, in that he exists as a device for accomplishing the goal of conveying meaning. And sure, some characters are seemingly straightforward alphanumeric characters like the number 1 and the letter I, and other times characters are complex and multilayered and capable of conveying a great deal of meaning with room for rich discussion and interpretation like in some scripts that are both phonetic and ideographic (cuneiform, Egyptian hieroglyphics, Chinese characters).

If you want to extend this overstretched metaphor even further to all characters fine, but there's still a key difference between him and the actual protagonists Ed and Stede. If they're all "characters" in this sense of the word, whether or not you write Izzy with a dull pencil on wide-ruled notebook paper or paint him on silk with a calligraphy brush, he's just the number 0 or the letter O. Ed and Stede though? They're those works of figurative calligraphy where Arabic writing takes the actual shape of a bird or a boat or a tree. They're those Chinese characters written with dozens of strokes that feel like single, self-contained poems.

And that's a distinction that matters greatly when it comes to reading and writing fanfic. So next time I'm wrestling with a portrayal of Izzy in someone else's work that doesn't work for me or I'm continuing to wrestle with the struggles of trying to write him myself, I hope I remember to pause and ask myself hey, what's the point of him here? What's he meant to do? Because who he "is" doesn't matter, and isn't even the right question. I cannot tell you how easy that makes it to quiet down all the constant noise around him and put down all the baggage attached to him and just move forward with everything. It's so freeing.

[theseancekid]

@fearstouch liked (x)

He knows he shouldn't ask. Doesn't even know if she can do it anymore, honestly. If she's anything like the rest of them, something has to be on the fritz by now— none of the Hargreeves kids made it into their 30s without some awful defect from their so-called "Extraordinary" powers. Hell, not all of the Hargreeves kids lived into their 30s to begin with.

And even if she can do it, he knows it comes with a terrible price, it always does. His memories are all hazy, but he still thinks about the way she would tremble, the way her body didn't seem to belong to her for just a few seconds. Fucking terrifying, that's all he really remembers. Not a parlour trick— he knows what that feels like, to turn tricks just to make ends meet like some gutter trash Criss Angel.

No, he shouldn't ask. That would be a dick move.

Only...

Well, he's already here. And she's already looking at him. And there's an ache inside him so big it feels like he's bleeding out on her goddamn carpet and— don't be a pussy, Klaus, just ASK HER!

"Hey, Em! Hi. Sorry, sorry, I'll just be a tick. I just, uh..." He steps into the room and already he feels like a goddamn wreck. He runs a hand through his already-frazzled hair, curls his toes up against the bottom of his shoes until the buzzing energy quiets down just enough for him to power through.

"I know...I know you don't it anymore, but I..."

Trembling hands grip at the dog-tags around his chest, and for a moment the world melts into a fuzzy haze before he blinks the tears out of his eyes and forces a breath so deep into his lungs that his whole body burns with it.

"I was kinda hoping you might...y'know, help me find some answers."

[pcrfectstorms]

@munsonfm hit the ♡ for a festive starter from steve harrington!

first christmas together was a milestone to any couple, but for them, surviving this year was nothing short of a damn miracle, eighty six had been a shit show and after eighty three, four and five that was really saying something. but eight six brought him eddie, it brought him someone who loves him not in spite of who he is but because of it, he never saw him coming, and steve thinks that's the best part, he wasn't looking, he wasn't expecting it, but along came eddie munson and gave him everything. so, of course steve wants to make a big fuss, to shower him with stupid expensive gifts, to give him everything he missed from christmases past, to make new traditions, rekindle old ones, he wasn't good at words, not really - neither of them were it had taken months for those first i love you's, and now they share them like kisses, he shows people he loves them by the things he does, the gifts he buys, and maybe in part that was a result of how he was raised, love given in material possessions in place of parental presence.

"so i might have gone a little extra, and i know you said i didn't NEED to get you anything, but yeah that was NEVER going to happen, so uh yeah... all the ones in red wrapping paper are for you --" steve grins sheepish, teeth sinking into his lower lip as his eyes divert across to the pile of questionably wrapped gifts under the tree, one of them suspiciously big and guitar shaped. "and before you ask NO you can't open them until christmas." he smirks, pre-empting the question as arms snake around his boyfriends' waist, a contented sigh escapes his lips, kiss pressed to his lips. "d'ya wanna watch christmas movies later and make out? oh and uh, my mom called earlier, their flight back from London was cancelled, something about snow I dunno, there's not gonna make it back until the 26th so maybe you could stay here christmas eve, unless you and wayne have plans, you probably have plans forget I said that--" brushing it off, he should be used to disappointment when it came to daniel and katherine harrington and yet this one, this was new low even for them, but he's trying not to let it show, he's happy, he is, he had eddie, but it still kind of sucked.

[witchywithwhiskey]

how about ransom and “i mean, i got what i wanted, didn’t i?” 👀🫶🏼

can't resist a dare

pairing: best friend!ransom drysdale x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, oral sex (m receiving), cock worship, taking nude photos/sending nude photos, filming/recording/taking photos during sex, little bit of exhibitionism, come marking, come facial, light bdsm, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names (baby), aftercare, friends to lovers, revenge on a mean/rude ex

word count: 4,300ish

a/n: whoops, this ended up being longer than i anticipated 😬 but i loved the premise i came up with too much to scrap it and try to write something shorter so here we go!! i just loved the idea of best friend!ransom being a petty perv and reader being just as much of a petty perv 🤭 anyway i hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡♡

You never could resist a dare from Ransom Drysdale. 

The devastatingly handsome grandson of Harlan Thrombey had been your best friend since you were children running around his grandfather’s spooky old house while your families spent time together. Even though you were both grown adults, Ransom still knew how to push all your buttons, and he knew that if he dared you to do something, you’d do it. 

Which was how you’d ended up in the cramped bathroom on the first floor of the Thrombey mansion during Harlan’s May Day party, your body bent over at the waist and your arm contorted behind your back to take a photo of the tiny little thong you’d worn beneath your sundress. 

Ransom had dared you to take a photo of your ass and send it to your ex. You, of course, had risen to the challenge and accepted the dare. 

You hadn’t had nearly enough champagne to make you so reckless, but there was something about your oldest friend that brought out your competitive spirit. Ransom was the only one who could get you to do such things, but you enjoyed being pushed outside of your comfort zone. Plus, you knew your best friend wouldn’t make you do anything that would actually hurt you.

In fact, if you were honest with yourself, there was a part of you that was perversely pleased to be taking such an obscene photo of yourself while some of the richest families in Massachusetts milled around just outside the door. The thought of getting caught taking naughty pictures turned you on more than you wanted to admit, so you hurried up and took the photos. 

When you were done, you picked one you liked and sent it to your ex with a smirk on your face, thinking he should be so lucky as to see your ass one last time. 

Leaving the bathroom, you strutted through the party looking for Ransom, feeling smug about completing the dare. You caught his eye when you entered the library, and even across the room, you could see the amusement dancing in his crystal blue eyes. You made your way through the crowd with a pep in your step, but halfway through, your phone vibrated with a response from your ex.

You opened the text and wished you hadn’t.

Didn’t know you were such a desperate slut, but if you really need dick so bad, I guess I’ll let you ride mine, baby. I know you loved bouncing on it like a whore. 

Your expression twisted into a scowl, and you looked up at your best friend, who was suddenly in front of you. Hurt wrapped around your heart, a part of you feeling—perhaps unfairly—that Ransom should’ve known your ex would text something vile back to you. 

“I did your dare, are you happy now?” you hissed at your best friend, taking out all your hurt and anger on Ransom. You knew you were much more angry at yourself, and your ex, for his hurtful response, but your best friend was the safest target at the moment.

Annoyingly, Ransom looked unaffected by your fury, the satisfied smirk on his face never wavering even as you continued to glare at him. When he responded, his voice was a lazy drawl that reminded you he couldn’t have known the effect of his dare.

“I mean, I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a frustrated huff and opened your phone to the text message you’d gotten from your ex, turning the screen to your best friend so he could read it. “Is this what you wanted?” you sneered, knowing full well your best friend wouldn’t react kindly to what your ex had said. 

You were so determined to show Ransom what he’d done, you didn’t even consider the fact that you were also showing him the photo you’d sent. At least, not until his blue eyes went a little hazy and his smirk widened into a full-blown grin.

“The dare didn’t include you showing me the photo,” Ransom drawled, his gaze flicking to yours, the look in his eyes making something hot squirm deep in your core. “But I can’t say I mind—you’ve got a gorgeous ass.” 

Heat rose in your face, and your expression twisted into one of impatient annoyance. “Look at the response, Ran,” you gritted out, trying not to let his compliment get to you. He was your best friend—he was probably just messing with you. But you were soon distracted from what Ransom had said when he finally looked at what your ex had replied.

A storm cloud settled over Ransom’s handsome features, his eyes narrowing into two slits and his mouth twisting into a furious scowl. You even thought you heard a low rumble, like a growl, emanate from your best friend’s chest beneath the din of the party around you. 

“Who does this little shit think he is?” Ransom fumed, grabbing your phone and clicking on the contact info. “Does this motherfucker think he can talk to you like this?” Your best friend’s gaze flicked to yours and something inside you warmed when you saw the righteous anger simmering in his eyes. “And where the fuck does he get off calling you baby?” 

Your mouth opened to answer him, but Ransom just shook his head in a way that quelled you. Instead, he grabbed your hand with his free one and began leading you through the party toward the back of the house. Your feet moved quickly to keep up with his longer strides, and he slowed a little so he didn’t hurt your arm as he tugged you into the backyard. Ransom walked briskly through the gate in the fence that separated the lawn from the forest. 

You knew the forest around the Thrombey mansion just as well as the house itself, with its trees and the occasional statues representing Harlan’s various mystery novels. You and Ransom had played in the forest plenty when you were children, and partied amongst the statues when you were in your teens and early twenties. It was the only place the two of you could have any privacy, and you had to assume that Ransom wanted seclusion to discuss what your ex had said.

At your favorite of the statues in the forest, Ransom pulled to a stop and rounded on you, mischief gleaming in his blue eyes. You could tell he had a plan. 

“Do you wanna show your shithead ex what he’s missing?” 

Ransom’s smile was sharp as a knife and you couldn’t help but be distracted by your best friend’s handsomeness, just for a moment. His slicked-back brown hair gleamed in the spring sunshine that trickled down through the leafy trees above, and his broad shoulders filled out his henley so deliciously, you almost forgot the question he asked. 

But then his words broke through your distracted mind and the grin that spread across your face was practically devilish in your delight. “What do you have in mind?” you asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stared up at your best friend with nothing but trust.

Ransom’s eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to your mouth for just a second before he met yours again. “Get on your knees,” he said, his voice low and gruff in a way you’d never heard before. It made heat pool deep in your core and you squirmed a little but didn’t hesitate to follow the order. 

The forest floor was blanketed in a soft carpet of dying leaves, even as new growth flourished around you, the sweet scent of spring filling your senses as you lowered yourself to your knees. Your eyes remained fixed on Ransom’s as your knees hit the soft ground, and though you knew the two of you were alone in the woods, it truly felt as though you were the only two people in the whole world.

You weren’t naive. You knew whatever your best friend had in mind to get back at your ex would be crossing one or two lines you’d never crossed with him before. But you trusted Ransom. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. And, truthfully, a part of you that you kept hidden and locked away so much of the time wanted to cross a line or two with your best friend. 

So you sat on your knees on the ground at Ransom’s feet and stared up at him with all the trust you had in him no doubt written all over your face. You watched as his eyes softened and his mouth curved at the edges into a gentle smile, his expression filled with affection. It was so different to the hard or smarmy mask he wore in public—and even around his family—that you relaxed even further, knowing he’d take care of you even as you got revenge on your ex.

“Stick your tongue out,” Ransom murmured, his voice low and soft and nearly blending in with the breeze rustling the trees above you. His hand reached out and his fingers stroked your cheek, his smile deepening when you nuzzled into his palm before doing as he said. “Good girl, now look at me like you wanna suck my cock.”

A bolt of heat shot through you, nearly making you shiver as warmth bloomed, feral and unbidden, within your body. Ransom’s command was certainly crossing a line, but it felt like permission, too. For the first time in a very long time, you let the feelings you’d hidden away come rushing to the surface. The force of them surprised you, and you found yourself leaning into the arousal that swirled through your body.

With your tongue already sticking out, you let yourself sink into the desire you felt to suck Ransom’s cock and let it show in the way you were posed. You arched your back to stick out your ass and push up your chest, giving your best friend a good view of your tits in your dress. Letting your eyes go heavy-lidded with arousal, you stared eagerly up at your best friend.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes darkened, his pupils blowing wide and his lips parting as he let out a heavy breath. He looked transfixed by you, and if you weren’t sticking your tongue out, you would’ve smirked at his reaction to you.

For a long moment, the two of you just stared at each other. Then, Ransom shook himself lightly and he held up your phone, swiping it open to the camera. You watched as he angled it the way he wanted, and waited patiently while he took a few pictures of you on your knees in front of him. 

When his eyes returned to your face, you relaxed your pose a little, expecting him to give you your phone so you could pick out a photo to send to your ex. Instead, Ransom gave you a considering look.

“Do you really wanna piss off your ex?” he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that made butterflies stir in your belly even as more warmth trickled down between your thighs. A slow, evil grin spread across his handsome face that made your stomach flutter and your core clench. “Do you wanna show him what he’s missing?’

“Yes.” Your answer slipped from your lips before you really had a chance to think about it, but once it was out, you wouldn’t take it back. You trusted Ransom, you really wanted to get back at your ex, and, even more than that, you were desperately curious to see how far your best friend would take things. So you doubled down, giving him an evil smile of your own. “Yes, I do.”

Ransom’s grin turned a little smug as he looked at you with mischievous delight dancing in his eyes. The dappled light of the sunny spring day shifted across his face, and you sucked in a silent breath at just how handsome your best friend was. Your heart thumped in your chest, but you pushed the meaning behind that feeling aside and focused on the moment.

“Unzip my pants and pull my cock out,” Ransom murmured, his tone low and rough as gravel, sending a shiver down your spine.

Immediately, your eyes dropped to the front of your best friend’s slacks and you couldn’t help but notice the bulge there. A delighted smile curled the edges of your mouth. Ransom was just as turned on by you as you were by him. That knowledge gave you the courage you needed to do as he said. 

Your fingers fumbled excitedly with Ransom’s clothes as you pushed up his henley and undid the button and fly of his pants. You pushed them and his boxer briefs down over his hips, revealing the long length of his cock. It bounced free from his briefs and you sucked in a sharp gasp. He was so thick and long, your body clenched with the need to be filled just at the sight of your best friend’s cock.

Eagerly, you leaned forward, pressing your face to the underside of Ransom’s cock and inhaling the clean, musky scent of him. He smelled so good, you could feel your body react to your best friend’s cock, your pussy soaking your thong and making a mess of your thighs. Tilting your head back, you turned your heavy-lidded eyes up to Ransom, staring up at him while you nuzzled into his hard length.

“Yeah, just like that,” Ransom rasped, giving you an encouraging nod while his thumb tapped the screen of your phone, taking photos of you. “Look so pretty with my cock on your face, baby.”

A pleased smile curved your lips and your eyes closed as you savored the wonderful feeling of Ransom’s praise. It made your body warm even further, and you conveyed how happy it made you by pressing a soft kiss to the underside of Ransom’s cock. He rumbled an appreciative sound and when you looked up at him again, his eyes were the darkest you’d ever seen, his entire attention focused entirely on you.

You liked having Ransom’s attention and you didn’t wait for him to give you more instructions. Trailing your lips up the length of his cock, you pressed wet, suckling kisses to the velvety soft skin wrapped around the hardness beneath. You didn’t know which of you enjoyed it more—Ransom, with his face twisted into a look of pleasure and his chest heaving, or you, with your pussy dripping between your thighs. 

It seemed to take Ransom a moment to remember what he was supposed to be doing, that the point of you being on your knees was to record what you were doing to get back at your ex. He tapped the screen of your phone once, and when he spoke, there was something in his voice that made you think he was recording a video—a tenor of encouragement that made you want to perform.

“How d’you like my cock, baby?” he asked, a smirk clear on his face and in his tone. “Am I bigger than your ex?”

You wanted to grin and laugh—Ransom’s cock was much bigger than your ex’s. Instead, you curved your lips into your most vixenish smile and nuzzled into your best friend’s hardness like it was your most cherished stuffed animal. 

“I looove your cock, Ran,” you purred in a sultry voice, not having to try hard to show your appreciation for him. You pressed a kiss to his hard length and licked the underside of the head, wringing a grunt from your best friend. “You have such a big cock, daddy, way bigger than my ex—I don’t know how I’m gonna fit you in my tight little throat.” You batted your lashes up at the camera while you swirled your tongue around the tip, licking up your best friend’s precum. 

Ransom tapped your phone and moved it out of the way so he could look straight at you, raising one of his eyebrows in amusement. “‘Daddy’?” he asked, a delighted smirk curving his lips.

You stroked Ransom’s cock while you pulled back to answer. “My ex always wanted me to call him that, but it never felt right,” you said, making a face before you leaned forward again, wrapping your lips around the tip of your best friend’s cock and sucking on him lightly. Ransom grunted in pleasure.

“Keep going, baby, we’ll show that shithead what he’s never gonna have,” Ransom rasped, lifting your phone up again and tapping the screen while you took his cock deeper into your mouth. “Suck daddy’s cock, baby, be a good girl and show me how much you love my dick.”

You wanted to smile at Ransom’s filthy words, but instead you focused your attention entirely on his cock, bobbing your head on his hard length until the tip of him was pressing against the back of your throat. You’d never taken anyone as big as him, but you were determined to deep throat your best friend, so you relaxed your throat and pushed yourself. After a few tries, you took him all the way in, until his cock was bulging in your throat and your nose was pressed flat to his stomach.

“Oh fuck, jesus christ, baby,” Ransom shouted when you swallowed around him, your throat squeezing his hardness as you fought to keep him buried to the root in your mouth. Tears streamed down your face, and drool trickled down your chin, but you paid it no mind, focusing entirely on your best friend’s cock.

His big hand settled on the crown of your head, fingers flexing like he wanted to grab you and hold you down on his cock. Your pussy clenched at the thought, but Ransom seemed not to want to hurt you, so he simply bucked his hips a little, fucking your throat in short thrusts. 

“Shit, ‘m gonna come,” he rasped, his voice rough and strained in a way you’d never heard before. It made you squeeze your thighs together as more wetness flooded your already messy slit. “Baby, ‘m gonna come, holy fuck, your throat feels so fucking good, oh fuck.”

When his cock started to twitch, you pulled off and smiled sweetly up at your best friend. “Come on my face, Ran,” you panted, your voice breathy as you stared directly into Ransom’s darkened eyes. 

It took you a moment to realize Ransom’s hand holding your phone had dropped to his side, and the entirety of his focus was on you—just you. A pleased smile curled your lips while you pumped your best friend’s cock in your fist, squeezing the tip while he tossed his head back and let out a loud, pleasured groan.

Ransom came, muttering, “Baby, baby, baby,” under his breath, ropes of his come landing all over your face, joining the tears, spit and drool already coating your cheeks and chin. You opened your mouth, catching some of his spend on your tongue and humming happily at the musky taste of him. 

When Ransom tipped his head back up and opened his eyes to look at you, his mouth fell open in a helpless moan when he took in the state of you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes roving over your face hungrily, like he couldn’t get enough of seeing you with his come on your cheeks. “You look so pretty covered in my come, baby,” he murmured, warmth and affection in his tone as he stroked your jaw, one of the few places on your face that wasn’t messy.

You grinned up at your best friend, pleased at his praise, though that didn’t stop you from teasing him. “Why don’t you take a picture, daddy, it’ll last longer,” you sassed. But once the words were out, you realized how serious you were about the suggestion. When Ransom raised his eyebrows in question, you whispered, “Use your phone—if you want.”

Ransom didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled his phone from the pocket of his pants and angled it above your face. “Smile for me, baby,” he murmured softly, and you couldn’t help but follow the gentle command. He took a few photos of you, sitting on your knees in the forest, covered in his come. 

Once he was done, he stowed both your phones in his pocket and pulled his henley off over his head, leaving him in a simple white t-shirt. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he started using the soft cotton garment to clean your face. He was gentle, wiping the come from your face and then clearing away your ruined makeup. 

Somehow, it felt so much more intimate than sucking your best friend’s cock and all you could do was sit there, your heart pounding in your chest while you let Ransom take care of you. His gaze caught yours, and you saw his crystal blue eyes were swirling with just as much emotion as was filling your heart, and something seemed to pass between the two of you—an understanding that something had changed between you.

When he’d cleaned your face to the best of his ability, Ransom tucked his cock away then helped you to stand, supporting your weight while he brushed the dirt and leaves off your knees. You leaned heavily against his chest when he stood up, his arms looping easily around you and you shared another silent moment, both of you smiling and staring into each other’s eyes.

It was you who ended up breaking the moment, asking the question that was making you burn with curiosity. “Are we really going to send those pictures and videos to my ex?” you asked, watching your best friend’s face for his reaction. Truth be told, you still wanted to get back at your ex for what he’d said, but since Ransom’s cock was in them, he had a right to a say in it.

He seemed to be watching you just as carefully as you were watching him. “Do you want to?” he asked, his voice toneless. He was leaving it up to you.

An evil smile spread across your face, Ransom’s lips curving into a smirk in response. “Yeah,” you said brashly. “Let him see what he could’ve had.”

“Just as long as you tell him who’s dick you’re sucking,” Ransom murmured, kissing your temple and pulling your phone from his pocket to hand to you. “I want him to know you’re my girl now.”

At those possessive words, you looked up at your best friend in surprise, but Ransom only gave you a look like you should know better.

Ducking your head, you hid an exceptionally pleased smile as you turned in Ransom’s arms and leaned back against his broad chest so he could watch over your shoulder. Together, you picked out the best photos and videos to send to your ex.

Sorry! Sent that to the wrong person. These are just for you. Oh and Ransom says hi. 

You couldn’t help but giggle when your ex immediately started blowing up your phone, taking great pleasure in blocking him. When you were done, you handed your phone back to Ransom to hold for you, since your dress didn’t have pockets, and you turned in his arms again. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you looked up at your best friend with a smile.

“So I’m your girl now, huh?” you asked, unable to let him get away with just a look for confirmation.

Ransom’s strong arms wound around your waist, holding you tight to his chest. “As if I’d be such a fool as to let anyone else have you,” he said, snorting to himself. “I’m not as stupid as your ex.”

“Clearly,” you said dryly, laughing at the unamused look he shot you. 

But then Ransom silenced your laughter with a kiss, his mouth slanting to yours perfectly. All at once, you let the emotions you’d bottled up for so long flow free, and you clung to Ransom as you both deepened the kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth like he was staking a claim, and you answered him back with just as much fervor. 

It was less a first kiss and more a devouring of souls as the two of you made out in the woods of the Thrombey estate.

Finally, Ransom pulled away with a groan. “OK, here’s the plan,” he said with a huff, pressing his forehead to yours. His chest was heaving as he caught his breath, but he soldiered on. “We go back, tell everyone you have a headache and I’m gonna drive you home,” he said, pausing briefly to kiss you. “Then I take you back to my place and we don’t leave my bed for two days—maybe three.”

Laughing and nodding you pushed up on your tiptoes and kissed Ransom again. “Three, definitely three,” you agreed.

“Good girl,” he murmured, kissing you again.

 Before he pulled away entirely, though, Ransom caught your eye and you knew from the mischief sparkling in the depths of his gaze that he had another dare for you. You grinned eagerly. 

“I dare you to take off your thong and go back to the party with your needy little cunt dripping down your thighs for me,” Ransom rumbled, his voice deliciously low and deep and making you want to jump him right there in the woods.

When Ransom raised an eyebrow in a challenging look, your pussy clenched at the filthy dare, your whole body warming as arousal flooded through you again. You didn’t know what expression your face was making, but it made Ransom grin and press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“If you’re a good girl, daddy will give you a reward when we get to my place,” he murmured. 

But Ransom hadn’t needed to offer you an incentive.

After all, you never could resist a dare from Ransom Drysdale.

[ivystoryweaver]

"There is a simmering, molten lust turning over and over..."

Summary: You feel awful and Steven makes it all better. Or, I've read the amazing period fics. What about the sometimes-hell of ovulation? Pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader Word Count: 1.3k Content: nsfw, ovulation, breast and nipple play, oral - f. rec., fingering, hair pulling, breeding kink suggested, not beta'd ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You're ovulating, like...to the extreme.

There's a heaviness in the center of you - different from cramps, not exactly bloating...

Your boobs aren't merely sore, they're...straining.

Your nipples have stood erect for a day-and-a-half, to the point that pinching them almost feels better than them brushing against your t-shirt, as you attempt to lounge around the house after work.

They're poking, quite obviously, through your pajamas, even through your bra, earlier.

Steven comments more than once, assuming you're cold.

"No...fuck, I'm...so horny," you finally admit...somewhat embarrassed by your own wording.

...drawing his earthen gaze straight to your chest - before his eyes drop to the center of you.

No, in your core, it's not (merely) cramping and bloating. There is a simmering, molten lust turning over and over, making you constantly wet.

Steven pushes off the chair he was sitting on to read after dinner, halfway scolding himself for not noticing your distress - for not offering to assist with such a predicament.

Honestly, you've been a touch moody and he didn't want to push you

Your sweet Steven is suddenly a panther on the prowl. Whoops.

"No, I'm not like...it's not that I'm trying to..." You attempt to find the words to explain that your brain isn't completely in the mood but...

...hell - if he would just grope your breasts, take the weight off for a few minutes, fondle your nipples, roll them between his fingers. Maybe suck them...

Steven is on his knees before you, ready to please - cheeks flushed as a careless curl tumbles across his forehead. His lips part in anticipation.

"I'm ovulating," you decide to admit, with a defeated huff. "So...we can't, you know. I accidentally missed a pill, and we shouldn't - not until I'm sure - ugh..." Your head drops to your hands in frustration. You have got to change birth control methods, to something less daily.

Nodding once, Steven's eyes darken, locking on to yours. "Let me take care of you."

Your breath trembles at the gorgeous man on his knees for you. "Steven...we can't - we shouldn't - "

"I heard you, love," he evenly responds, the heat of his lustful stare setting you ablaze. Pushing his fingertips underneath the hem of your t-shirt, he offers, “Stop me if it's not what you want."

Then this man - this socially awkward, brilliant, beautiful man who loves you like an ancient legend - peels your clothes from your body, almost reverently, kneeling beneath you like you're one of his sacred goddesses.

"Not cold then," he murmurs, brushing his fingertips over the round swell of your breast, his breath ghosting your pebbled flesh. "Just desperate." He doesn't give you a chance to refute him, capturing your nipple between his plush lips and sucking gently.

And ohh fuck, it feels good.

Your breasts get sore from time to time, during your cycle or mid-month, but this particular month has you so tender for some reason.

You feel the warmth of Steven's tongue laving as his hand cups your other breast, gently massaging - dragging the pad of his thumb over your other greedy nipple.

Then he sucks you hungrily, like he's feeding from you, for a full minute longer. Your back arches, thrusting your chest further into his warm, wet mouth. Pulling off your tit with a pop, his eyebrows shoot up, a slight smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

"Better? Or worse?"

"Good - it's good, baby, come here," you gasp, eagerly reaching to bring him to your other breast, threading your fingers through his thick curls as he lavishes your nipple with attention from his tongue, teeth and lips, sucking and fondling until you are a squirming mess.

He releases you and surges up on his knees to meld his lips with yours, licking into your waiting mouth. Taking your face in his hands, his thumbs stroke the apples of your cheeks as his fingertips trace the shape of your jaw.

He kisses you so good, you lose your mind and forget all your bodily complaints, the kiss lingering on and on, until you part for breath, inhaling and exhaling one another as if each of you needs to other to survive.

(You do.)

He lays you down on the couch where you sat, fidgeting uncomfortably all evening, cute little huffs and puffs letting him know you were distraught on some level. Those huffs are now pants of desire.

His lips meet your bare stomach - your most sensitive and self-conscious body part, breath fanning over all the dips and valleys he adores. He kisses down to your joggers, pulling the tie loose before easing them over the swell of your hips and down your legs.

He smiles to himself at your superhero boy shorts - you’re definitely one for comfort. He smells you now - wet and eager to be touched, to be fucked - the core of you dampening your panties.

So he pulls those down and off your body too and, by the time he kisses an adoring trail up your inner thigh, you're trembling - whimpering, too.

"Steven, Steven, please..."

He answers with his tongue, licking up the center of your sex, collecting your juices, his cock twitching as your back arches violently off the couch.

You feel him smile against you. Steven is The Needy One so this must be quite fun for him...

Your mind goes blank as he fucks his tongue into your hole in a slow, taunting rhythm, holding steady, soaking his lips and the stubble on his chin with the tang of your sex.

Dragging his tongue back out, his lips wrap around your throbbing clit, sucking vigorously as you twist your fingers though his hair, yanking just the way that gets him feral.

He moans against your core, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure through the center of you, and just when you think nothing has ever felt better, he slides two fingers into your dripping cunt.

This was exactly what you needed.

“Yes…oh god, Steven…”

Grasping the meat of your thigh with his free hand, he hooks one leg over his shoulder, driving deeper into you.

With your grip almost painfully threaded through his soft curls, you push and pull his face against your cunt, rocking your hips faster with each pass, your moans a scandalous crescendo of lustful desperation.

The dull, aching want in the center of you swells like a throbbing balloon, ready to burst, and Steven rumbles out a Jake-worthy chuckle between your legs as you find yourself shrieking like nothing he’s ever heard before.

He curls his fingers into the spongy softness deep in your walls, the steady suck of your clit finally drawing you into absolute rapture. Pleasure surges through your body, releasing soreness and tension as your cunt gushes all over your lover’s mouth, soaking him from nose to throat.

He lets you ride it out, pressing sweet, wet kisses to your tummy, brushing his fingers over your thighs, telling you how beautiful and perfect you are.

“So good, mon cœer, love the sounds you make for me.”

“Thank you,” you gasp, as he climbs back up your body and pulls you against his chest.

He kisses your temple, ignoring, for a moment, his blatant erection. “Good, yeah?” His eyebrows shoot up in adorable self-satisfaction.

“So good.”

He lets you recover, keeping private thoughts of how, when you're ready, he would love to fuck a baby into you and take care of your moods and your tits all the time, as your body grows his child.

You can feel the tension rolling off of him, almost chuckling as his gaze falls to your abdomen, his hand gently caressing you there. "I'm not ready right now - not at all, but...I would want it to be with you," you quietly confess.

He swallows thickly, nodding as his forehead drops to yours. And you breathe together, in and out, inhaling and exhaling one another as if each of you needs to other to survive.

(You do.)

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Steven Grant-Centric stories

Moon Knight Masterlist

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updates blog - @ivystoryupdates

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 1 - All in One Piece

A bad day gets infinitely worse.

WC: 2.5k

Masterlist | AO3

A/N: This fic will include a multitude of more intense kinks and fantasy themes such as watersports, heavy BDSM, forced painful eggpreg, bloodplay, knotting, non-human dicks, somnophillia, and of course considerable amounts of monster fucking. If you're not good with those, then this isn't the fic for you sorry! More tags will be added to A03 as the fic goes, so please see what's currently listed there before you start, but those are the tags I know for sure will be included that may deter some people. This one is for my freaks! (affectionate). It won't be as long as Wavelengths but this is definitely a longer series than Pitching Tents~

Cold dirty water leaked through the hole in your worn boot as you accidentally stepped in a puddle much deeper than you'd originally anticipated. You cursed to yourself and shook your foot uselessly, your socks were fucking drenched. An awful end to an awful day. Work had been fucking draining, and if one more customer asked if you could ‘check in the back’ you were going to start killing people. Ma'am, what fucking ‘back'? It's a damn boutique, we don't even have our own private toilet! The cherry on top was the classic Karen with that classic boomer lead poisoning stare who absolutely refused to leave when you were supposed to be finished ten minutes ago. You were about ready to hit her with the wooden sandwich chalkboard as you pulled it inside if she took one more fucking second. God, all this pent up anger was getting close to boiling over, you needed to get laid, bad. Ye olde silicone dick just wasn’t going to hit the spot tonight, even if you did have a fun new one shaped like an imagining of a dragon’s cock.

You opened your phone as you walked, music blasting in your ears, blocking out the sounds of the bustling rush hour city around you while you sighed to yourself and opened a dating app in utter despair. Swipe, swipe, swipe, oh a message, ew ugly dick pic no thanks, swipe, swipe. You were at least thankful that the rain had let up for your short walk home, but if one of these men didn't reply with enthusiasm to your need for a lay you were going to scream so loud they'd hear it at the city outskirts.

Swipe, swipe, sw-

Hang on.

What the fuck just happened.

Everything was so.

Dark.

Where did the lights of the city go? Was it a blackout, caused by the weather? The rain hadn’t been that bad today had it? A moment ago you'd seen the bright neon colours of illuminated billboards and shop displays reflecting in the scattered shallow puddles, the red of the no crossing pedestrian light, the bright headlights of an oncoming bu-

Oh.

Oops.

You got hit by a bus didn't you? God fucking dammit. Well that's fucking annoying. A real fucking inconvenience to be honest.

But hey, no time to think about that, because all of a sudden it's so bright your eyes have to squint to see, and with all the force of a body that was… just hit by a bus… you were soaring horizontally through the air. It was dark again but this time… just your body? Something encompassed you, shiny and metallic, a dark reflective surface covering what you could see of your skin. Something hit your back hard, or maybe you hit it? There was a crack of wood splintering from somewhere behind you and you slumped down, sitting against… a deck? Your head throbbed with ache but you seemed to be in one piece, blinking at your surroundings to try and figure out what had happened, where you had landed. Against some sort of food truck maybe? Directly under a bright streetlight? Surely that would explain it. Voices were calling out around you, the vibrations of heavy, frantic footsteps over wood able to be felt where your hands touched the ground, but you couldn't hear anything except the buzzing in your ears, like white noise turned up far too loud, your eyes having trouble focusing through the bright light.

Something warm closed around your neck and you were dragged to stand, then further, your feet hovering above the ground as you choked, pressed against something solid behind you. You blinked again. No, that can't be right? Must be a dream, hopefully a sexy one, you must have been knocked unconscious. Scarlet red hair sticking up like a wildfire, squared googles worn like a headband, thick eyeliner, lips painted in the same shade as his hair. Oh please, please, please let this be a sexy dream. No scars though, curious. Pre timeskip then? His mouth was moving but you still couldn't hear, ah, not quite a completely detailed dream you guessed. Lucid though? Your ability to scan your eyes down at will told you perhaps yes. Ah, there it is, two flesh arms, yup we're going pre timeskip. Just as well, you'd never been keen on the idea of the metal arm touching you; a strong, calloused, fleshy hand would feel far nicer on your body.

You vaguely registered the brief feeling of weightlessness as you were pulled away from the strong thing behind you and slammed back again. The mast perhaps? Ow, that one kinda hurt. I think? Surely not, it's a dream. His mouth was moving again, but this time words were starting to form, the fog of the white noise slowly fading to a more bearable hum.

“-re you doing on my fucking ship?” He barked, flicks of spittle splashing against your face.

You blinked again, hmm, could you talk in this dream? No time like the present to try I guess?

“Tryna get laid?” You coughed, your voice strained from the hand around your throat. Something unrecognisable flashed in his eyes. Anger? Confusion? He leaned back a little to pull something from his bandolier, his grip on your neck loosening for a moment before being replaced by something sharp and cold, metallic perhaps? It was hard to tell from the thin edge.

“Wanna try that one again little mouse?” He gave you a toothy grin, his canines sharp and dangerous, and something about the dark look in his amber eyes sent a shiver down your spine. Fear or lust, you weren't sure, both perhaps? “I'll put it in plain words: What. Are. You. Doing. On. My. Fucking. Ship?”

Hmmm, prisoner turned lover type scenario huh? You'd read more than your fair share of fanfiction, your best bet to getting this sexy dream to go somewhere was act confident, right? What was he gonna do, kill you? It's just a dream anyway. Probably a weird coma dream, given the bus. Oh, maybe you'd be one of those crack medical cases of people who live a whole life in their coma dream. Shout out to your brain for picking this world to live it out in, you wondered if the machines on the outside would beep with a heighted heart rate every time one of these pirates fucked you in the dream. You wiggled your toes to check you were in control, all systems go captain, initiate stage one of ‘badass bitch gets laid’. You swung your legs up and wrapped them around his waist, and his brows, or lack thereof, shot up in surprise.

“Did I stutter, captain?” You purred, “You are the big bad captain of the Kid Pirates, correct? I thought a guy like you would be overjoyed to be presented with a hot, willing lay, or do you prefer to pay for those services?”

Someone coughed out a wheezed laugh, it sounded strained and suppressed. Ah, Killer must be nearby. Well, at least if Kid hated your jokes maybe you could turn your attention to the masked man, he was your favourite afterall.

“So what, you just crashed onto my ship outta butt fuck nowhere, naked as the day you were born, for a quick fuck?” Kid scowled, “How did you get here? Devil fruit?”

“Uh, I think I got hit by a bus actually,” you pondered, able to speak a little easier now that his hand wasn't so tight on your throat, though the metal was still pressed to it, some sort of knife you assumed. “Hang on, did you just say I'm naked?”

“Are you stupid?” Kid squinted. He let you go all of a sudden and you fell to the deck with an unceremonious thump. Ow, that one definitely hurt. “Kil, throw her overboard, if she ain't gonna talk we'll prove for ourselves she has a fruit, fish her out before she drowns too much though, she's interesting. I wanna know how she got here”

You turned to the quiet footsteps of the approaching first mate, in his button up polka dot shirt. Cute. You gave him a sweet smile but he ignored it, scooping you up, throwing you over his shoulder, and absolutely yeeting the shit out of you straight into the drink.

Icy water closed in around you as your body dropped down several metres under the surface at the impact. You felt no exhaustion though, no pull of the deep. Well, at least now you knew there was no devil fruit for you in this dream, too bad, it'd be sick to turn into a big fuck off bear or something. Sighing internally, you swam your way back to the surface, doing your best Little Mermaid impression and flicking your hair back as you broke through to air. Several scowling faces looked down at you from the deck, and you bobbed awkwardly in the gentle waves, staring back up at them. Fuck it was cold, could someone put a blanket over your comatosed ass irl please? Jeez.

“Uh, can someone help me up?” You shouted up to the ship, “I'm not a good climber”. Honestly, you weren't a bad climber, you were just sure this was gonna turn into one of those running but getting nowhere situations if you tried.

Kid let out a tsk and suddenly heavy chains were wrapping around you, enclosing around your neck and nearly hanging you as they pulled you back to deck, dropping you back to the wood with a wheeze.

“That wasn't-” you let out a choked cough, “that wasn't very nice of you. This dream sucks, actually”

“Dream?” Killer asked. Oh god his voice was even better in person. But it sounded more to the pitch of the Japanese voice actor, hang on did that mean you were speaking Japanese? Dreams are weird man.

“Yeah I mean..” you looked up at him, crossing your legs, not bothering to cover your nude body. What did it matter, this was just like one of those giving a presentation in school kinda dreams, but nudity had never bothered you. “I got hit by a bus, so this is just some weird coma dream. Sucks though, usually they're sexy by now. What a disappointment”

“Yeah? You have sex dreams about us often?” Kid smirked.

“You, not so much,” Kid's smirk very quickly turned to a frown and he looked like he was gonna hang you again, “aye, easy big guy, they exist, I just prefer dreaming about Killer or Heat is all”

Someone nearby choked on air, and there was the audible sound of a palm slapping a back and the faint whisper of “get it to-fucking-gether Heat, fuck”

“Anyway, this dream sucks,” you hummed, stretching out your legs, bored, “so either make with the orgy or turn into a face eating demon or some shit so I spook awake, I'm bored.”

Kid rushed towards you, knife still in hand, and you wondered for a split second if he was actually going to do one of the two, before the piercing pain of a knife through your rib cage cut right through that line of thinking. It was searing, white hot like you were being branded from the inside out, you'd broken your arm once but this might have hurt more. Your world stopped for a moment before you let out a blood curdling scream that forced those closest pirates to you to cover their ears, and you gagged and as you looked down at the knife sticking out of you.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” you finally stuttered as your scream settled, your throat sore and strained, pained tears rolling down your cheeks, “that hurts. Oh god, oh god, not a dream, not a fucking dream”

“No fucking shit, dumb cow,” Kid reached for the knife and you smacked his hand away, holding the hilt protectively.

“Don't fucking touch it, asshat” you bit, “oh fuck what if you got something important, just my fucking luck I get fucking isekai'd to the resident ship of the Grandline's biggest fucking asshole and now I'm gonna die again. Twice in one day, that's gotta be a record for sure.” Kid growled and tried to pull the knife with his powers, but once again your hands turned metallic and held the hilt steady. Realisation hit you like a… bus… hmmm, too soon?

“Oh, fuck yeah, HAKI!” you yelled triumphantly, “I always knew I was a strong willed bitch, ha, take that Captain Stupid Pants!”

You lifted a hand to flip him off. Ah, well, you'd never claimed to be smart. Moving your hand halved the strength against his pull, and the dagger shook and yanked itself out from your chest.

“Now who's stupid?” He smirked, dangling the dagger as he squatted in front of you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Okay, admittedly, maybe me,” you would probably laugh if it didn't hurt so damn much. “Hey, what if I make you a deal, I'll uhh… I'll let you freeuse me if you let me live”

“Back at it again with the sex! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Kid yelled.

“A lot, probably,” you sighed, blood pouring freely from between your fingers. You squinted at Kid before reaching forward and yanking his sash off, “gimme that.” Much to his dismay, you pressed the fabric to your wound to slow the bleeding, though the effects of blood loss were quickly becoming apparent. “Cute that you wear each other's colours,” you mumbled drowsily, holding the royal blue sash to your wound, which was quickly turning a dark red as your blood soaked into it. “Whoops, looks like it's your colour now though, Kiddo. Hey, before I die, can someone tell me how Heat's fire breathing works?”

“Really? Minutes to live and that's what you wanna know?” Kid frowned.

“Call me curious,” you gave him a drunk looking smile, “they never explained it in the manga”

“Who the fuck is they?” Kid tilted his head curiously, “and what the fuck is manga?”

“It's like a comic book, boss,” Heat spoke up. Ha, you always had him pegged as a fucking weeb.

Life was quickly draining from you, red spilling out over the wooden deck, your eyelids drooping more with every minute. If this was real, a thought occurred to you. Maybe there was a real reason behind this. Maybe you really were dead, and this was some sort of test to be a guardian angel or some shit. Alternate universe type deal, perhaps all fiction was just flickers of a view into another universe. Deep. Ah, no time to really ponder that thought though. You let go of the sash to grab Kid's arm with a weak, blood drenched hand.

“Don't- don't fight Shanks,” you mumbled, “and don't make an alliance with Apoo or Hawkins. And don't-” your head spun as you tried to push out the most important stuff, “don't let Killer eat the SMILE fruit”

The last thing you saw was a look of confusion on Kid's pale face, before everything spun and once again you were tossed into darkness. But hey, at least you weren't wearing wet socks anymore.

[Next Chapter]

Taglist: @chershire23 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

[onlyhereforthestories]

Comeback Queen - Part 1 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Here you go! I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys like it. Part 2 will be out tomorrow night! Also if you want to share your theories on where reader is going please send them my way. I’m interested to see what you guys think! 🫶

Months. That’s how long it had been since you had been in this position. Month and months and months. Months longer than it should have been too. Alexia had unfortunately had complications with her knee after coming back to playing the first time and this meant that she was side lined for a further few months.

During her time out on the side lines, you had picked up a knock yourself and was now part of the recovery squad. You hated the first month of your recovery purely because if you couldn’t be playing you want to be watching your love do what she does best, but that wasn’t possible either.

So, when Alexia went away with the Spanish squad and phoned you to say even though she wouldn’t be playing she is fit enough to sit on the bench, you knew it wouldn’t be long until that did happen.

You were proven right a couple weeks later. It was

You were sat in the stands with Mapi and a few of the other girls who had some sort of knock or injury, just behind the bench. Alexia had excitedly told you last night that Jona was planning on putting her on in the second half of todays match. This had excited you too as it meant you got to do your second favourite thing to do with football, watching her play. Of course, this was slightly behind playing yourself but that isn’t possible right now.

The first half flew by and with Salma’s hattrick Barca was already cruising towards the win, something that meant slightly less pressure on your loves shoulders when she did come on which you knew would help even if she didn’t really think about it. Alexia had gone through a pretty extensive warm up during the half time break so you had a feeling it wouldn’t be too long until you saw her enter the field. You didn’t leave your seat like the others wanting to make sure you caught every ball touch the woman had. She had just run back down the tunnel to catch the last bit of the half time team talk and probably give her own little captains speech with Irene.

The next time you caught her moving was in the 60th minute. She was up on the side lines in her kit, bib over the top to warm up quickly but you knew it wouldn’t be long until she was out on the pitch and the rest of the stadium could tell too. Not even a minute later and she was lined up with .. and .. ready for her much awaited and eagerly anticipated return.

She got given the captains armband and received a loud round of applause as she ran on, you made sure to whoop and cheer as loud as you could. Determined to show your support for your lover.

Alexia had been on the pitch for barely 10 minutes when the ball was crossed into Lucy at the back post, you held your breath as the ball bounced off her and into the middle of the box where your favourite number 11 was waiting. She didn’t catch the shot as cleanly as you knew she would have wished to, but it didn’t matter as it nestled into the bottom right corner.

You were up in a flash jumping with the other injured players as much as physically possible for you all. Of course she was in the right place at the right time, she had been studying tapes her whole life pretty much. She just knew the game and now even more than ever possibly, she knew her team.

The rest of the game went on and even though the opposition scored it didn’t dull the buzz around the stadium, the return of Frido last game and now Ale today just had set the right feeling within the club. Now all that was left was you and Mapi.

Speaking of, Mapi was dragging you by the hand down to the pitch where you greeted Ingrid when she approached, you chatted with them as well as Keira and Aitana for a while, but your eyes never drifted far from Alexia as she made her way round the fans. You were always in awe of how she interacted with them no matter the occasion, she always had time to sign things and take photos.

She had made her way around all the fans she could today and was about to head down the tunnel when she spotted you. Her eyes met yours and you could see the joy in them as soon as they did, the smile widening on her lips to match. She changed direction and headed towards where you were stood with the other women.

As she got closer you excused yourself from the conversation around dinner and made a beeline for her. You instantly wrapped your arms around her and held on with all you had, her arms wrapping around your waist and holding you firmly but not tight. “I’m so proud of you, mi vida. A goal too right away, only you could do that.” She gave you a little extra squeeze before pulling back.

“Had someone to score for didn’t I.” You grinned in her direction and went to reply when Pina jumped into the conversation from behind you both.

“You always score for y/n can’t you dedicate it to someone else for once.” You exchanged a look with your wife at this, you could see the smirk rising on her face, but you gave her a warning look. As much as you loved Claudia you knew she had a big mouth and what you had to share should only come from the two of you, being as it affected those you play with or did play with.

“What can I say, when you love someone this much it’s easy to dedicate a goal to them.” This caused a smile to rise to your face.

Pina walked away with a slightly disturbed look on her face, one that you knew was due to her distaste for the lovey stuff she had just heard from her captain. “You are capi mush when y/n is around.” Was a comment thrown over her shoulder as she walked away, a comment that had your girlfriend giving you a quick peck to the lips before she was off running after her. Causing the young Spaniard to squeal and bolt off in her counterpart Patri’s direction, you wife hot on her heels.

You giggled at their antics and met back up with Mapi to go out to the car, you had picked the couple up today and would be dropping them home on your way back to yours and Alexia’s place.

Mapi and Ingrid had just departed the car with the promise to be ready for when you are due to pick them up later to car share to dinner. Alexia was staring out the passenger side window obviously deep in thought because her eyebrows had the cute crinkle in them, they always had when the gears in her head were working overtime.

“What’s going on in the beautiful mind of your babe?” When she didn’t reply you got a little concerned, Alexia was not normally that far in her head that she couldn’t even hear you. To gain her attention you gently rested your hand on her thigh which caused her to jump slightly. “Lo siento I didn’t mean to make you jump, are you okay?”

Alexia grabbed the hand on her thigh and laced your fingers together and gave your hand a squeeze, “Si no sorry I’m okay just thinking.” This caused you to chuckle slightly which meant you got a confused look from the woman riding shotgun.

“I know you are thinking gupa, that’s why I put my hand on you to get your attention. I asked you what was going on in that beautiful head of yours and you were too far gone.” You squeezed the hand in yours a couple time to give her some comfort.

“I think we should tell them.” She was looking directly at you now and you knew this had been playing on her mind longer than just this car journey. You gave her hand another squeeze before you replied.

“I think we should soon too, but not today. Today is about you amor, I don’t want anything to take away from us celebrating that, you. But yes, I do think soon we need to too.” Alexia was nodding away in the passenger seat as you spoke and gave you a smile as she gripped your hand in 3 successive squeezes, a gesture you knew meant she loved you.

The rest of the journey home was spent talking about how you were going to share your news, you were still not sure how some of the girls would take your departure from the squad.

[ween-kitchens]

we’re not bruised; they’re just party tattoos

2716 words CW: alcohol

scott is far too drunk to be making rational decisions. he knows this just as he knows that he probably should have switched from wine to water about an hour ago; as he knows that a game of spin the bottle is a very, very stupid idea right now. however, he knows all these things rationally, and scott has long since decided that he is going to ignore all rational thought and deeply regret everything tomorrow morning, hand in hand with whatever abysmal hangover is going to follow. so rather than acting logical or rational or like someone who wants to survive until the next morning, scott plonks himself down directly next to tango in the circle of his equally drunk friends, sitting close enough that their shoulders brush. it’s new years, okay, they’re allowed to be stupid; resolutions start tomorrow, not tonight.

this was meant to be posted on new year’s day. yeah I gotta stop expecting deadlines to work but hey we can pretend it’s a valentine’s day gift!

if you enjoyed, please reblog!

scott is far too drunk to be making good decisions.

he knows this just as he knows that he probably should have switched from wine to water about an hour ago; as he knows that a game of spin the bottle is a very, very stupid idea right now. however, he knows all these things rationally, and scott has long since decided that he is going to ignore all rational thought and deeply regret everything tomorrow morning, hand in hand with whatever abysmal hangover is going to follow.

so rather than acting logical or rational or like someone who wants to survive until the next morning, scott plonks himself down directly next to tango in the circle of his equally drunk friends, sitting close enough that their shoulders brush. it’s new years, okay, they’re allowed to be stupid; resolutions start tomorrow, not tonight.

the smart people in their group stopped drinking after they got tipsy, and so now they’re all being babysat by an amused pixl, a somewhat concerned xisuma and a deeply smug cleo. scott is fairly certain she only stopped drinking so they’d have a crystal clear memory of the fuckups they will all inevitably cause and so will be reminded of for the rest of their lives. the smart people, however, are the vast minority of the party, and so the world right now is chaos incarnate.

gem and scar have been giggling about the least humorous topics scott has ever heard—which includes the shape of the wine bottle that is positioned in the middle of the circle. grian has been extraordinarily bold for the entire night, and is actually flirting with mumbo, who seems equally enamoured and embarrassed by it all. scar whoops from across the circle each time grian manages to get mumbo to blush. lizzie has been flirting with joel idly, and seems to be entirely unaware of how flustered joel is getting—much to everyone’s amusement.

“are we spinning or what!” pearl yells over the commotion. unfortunately for scott, she is still leaning on his shoulder, and has very literally just yelled into his ear.

“yeah we are!” scott shouts back, and pearl shrieks with laughter, pushing him away. scott cackles and pushes her back.

the next few minutes is a blur of too-loud laughter and squeals through a haze of drunken grins. scott manages to make out joel and jimmy being overly dramatic about the smallest peck of the lips, the entire room screaming as mumbo and grian kiss for much longer than is strictly necessary—and then a very flustered mumbo and grian scurrying out of the room, presumably to finish making out in private—and cleo being eventually dragged in to kiss a grinning lizzie, to the mock-devastation of joel.

scott whoops along with everyone else as the bottle lands on him, watching with anticipation as the bottle spins a full three-sixty. except- it doesn’t spin a full 360, because it instead lands on.. tango.

and this is the second of the abysmal decisions scott makes. because instead of giving tango a brief peck on the lips and playing it off like a joke, scott’s idiotic, drunken brain decides that he may as well put some effort in. after all, if he’s only ever gonna kiss tango once, he wants it to be worth it.

“come on tango!” scott is laughing, watching for any minuscule sign of discomfort or apprehension from tango. there is none.

tango is grinning along, leaning forward into scott’s space. “well, I hope you live up to your reputation.” he winks, and it’s like he’s just set fire to scott’s brain.

scott grabs the collar of tango’s shirt, leaning in until their noses brush. “you’ll have to be the judge of that.”

the first thing scott registers is that tango’s lips are soft. like- really soft. he’d kind of assumed his lips would be almost harsh and rough, because of his netherborne roots, but void, he was mistaken. after this, scott is gonna ask what kind of skincare routine tango has.

except- he doesn’t really get a chance to, because tango nips a little at scott’s lower lip, and suddenly every intelligent thought is wiped from his mind. tango’s teeth, it seems, are just as sharp as they look. well, two can play at that game.

something in scott’s stomach ignites as he runs his own teeth over tango’s lip and hears the half-stifled gasp he elicits. scott suppresses the urge to smile, and instead slides his hand from tango’s cheek into his hair and grips it, relishing the heat that has begun to emanate from tango’s body.

scott is grinning when the whistles and shrieks from the group pulls the two apart, deeply satisfied to see the way tango’s catlike pupils have enlarged. “so? how’d I do?”

it takes tango a second to gather himself, and scott’s grin slips into a smirk. oh, he could get used to this.

“so-so.” tango shrugs, clearly attempting a nonchalant tone, but the way his eyes keep darting back to scott’s lips tells another story.

scott cackles regardless. “well then, I guess i’ll have to practice.”

with a rush of warmth through his chest, scott watches as tango budges closer to skizz and mutters to him, “I volunteer as tribute.”

“i’m not complaining.” scott says just loud enough for tango to hear, if only to watch the way tango’s eyes widen in panic as he realises scott overheard him. he winks teasingly, and turns back to the chaos, where grian and mumbo have just come back.

to his own surprise, scott finds himself zoning out, even as gem and pearl decide that they can’t be bothered to wait for the bottle to choose and instead make out in the middle of the circle. although, scott does make a mental note to make fun of pearl about this at any given opportunity—most likely after she makes fun of him for how intense his and tango’s kiss ended up being.

but- embarrassingly, all he can think of is tango’s lips. because- okay, seriously, tango is a good kisser—which- scott really should have thought about that—and it’d be one thing if scott was just enjoying the kiss, but- it definitely is not. the kiss was not so good that it warrants this level of thinking about it, and scott really doesn’t know why he even decided to actually kiss tango in the first place. like- does he even have any self restraint anymore?

wow, scott can’t believe he actually asked that when the answer is so obvious: no, he really doesn’t.

-—

unfortunately for tango, drinking is not doing one of its best jobs of making him forget everything about himself—more specifically, the kiss. in fact, he seems to be unable to focus on anything but, which is getting increasingly more embarrassing. if you couldn’t already tell, tango was absolutely lying when he said scott didn’t live up to his reputation. rather, he surpassed it by far, which is proving to be extraordinarily inconvenient if tango wants to get through this night without doing something stupid. again.

but of course, stupid is his middle name; literally (he lost a bet, don’t ask), so the plan of ‘don’t make an entire fool out of himself’ is going to be a lot harder to manage than it probably ought to be. especially if scott doesn’t stop looking at him like that.

“you thinking about something or just enjoying the view?” tango calls, foolishly, to scott. they’ve been out on the balcony of whoever’s house this is (he forgot sometime around when he kissed scott) for about ten minutes, intentionally avoiding each other’s eyes. scott, however, has apparently given up on this and has been gazing absentmindedly at tango for at least a minute.

scott gives a crooked grin, and tango so desperately wants to kiss it off his face. “why can’t I do both?”

tango scrambles for something equally witty to say as scott stands and moves over to him, something akin to curiosity in his eyes. “you know, you are unfairly pretty.”

if tango was speechless before, he’s entirely hopeless now. “you- I- I am?”

“wh- I mean come on,” scott brushes a loose hair out of tango’s eyes, tracing his fingers down his jaw. yeah, okay, tango has officially lost his mind. “you’re like a- a painting.”

well, if scott’s allowed to flirt with him, tango isn’t gonna take it lying down.

“there you go again.” tango takes scott’s hand in his own, pressing a delicate kiss to his knuckles. he watches with the utmost fascination as scott’s cheeks turn the faintest shade of red at the action. “i’ve never met anyone so much like a siren as you, scott.”

scott raises an eyebrow, and tango follows the action with his eyes. “a siren, huh?” he says, rubbing a thumb across tango’s hand. “why is that?”

tango gives the ghost of a smirk, watching as scott’s eyes flit to his lips. “you do this- this whole song and dance, you make me swoon, and then you’re gone.” he moves closer. “it’s like chasing wind with you.”

“come on.” scott gives a little breathy laugh, and tango’s mind reels as he realises he’s managed to fluster him. oh man, tango could get used to this. “you can catch me, if you try.”

“i’ve seen this all before.” tango tilts his head ever so slightly. “with jimmy, with pixl, with martyn.” he rests a hand on scott’s waist, heart leaping at the poorly stifled gasp scott gives as he does so. “I don’t know what to think with you.”

“i’ll tell you then,” scott says, and the flirtatious note in his voice is suddenly gone, replaced by an almost devastating honesty. “I have wanted you for a very long time, and i think this party might be the tipping point into insanity for me, because you look- you look like that, and you kissed me, and now you’re flirting back which is something i’ve never been able to handle.”

tango feels his mouth twitch into a grin. “well, i’ll tell you what, it’s amazing to be on the opposite end of all this.” he rubs his thumb against scott’s waist deliberately, smile widening ever so slightly as scott practically pouts at him. “don’t give me that look, I never get to be the flirty one.”

“it- it suits you.” scott says, and he’s breathless, and tango might also be going insane now he comes to think of it. “i’m- y’know, i’m perfectly happy to pretend this was all a series of drunken mistakes if-“

before scott can continue, tango once again lives up to his recently appointed middle name, and kisses him.

scott kisses back almost immediately, and tango finds himself leaning further into him as scott’s hands move to his hair and waist. tango, apparently, did not think this through, because last time his brain was reduced to mush without the insane knowledge that scott likes him back, which he’s still having a hard time processing. so when scott deepens the kiss, tango feels as if he may explode, and when scott nips ever so delicately at his bottom lip, tango melts.

it registers distantly in tango’s puddle of a brain that scott has managed to pin him against the wall as they’ve been kissing, and that at some point, he’s going to need some air. tango bites scott’s lip, relishing in the half stifled groan and shudder he elicits, and allows himself to forget about trivial things like breathing.

after a moment though, tango’s lungs begin to burn and they break apart, panting. tango is grinning, and scott’s bottom lip is bleeding, and tango probably should have remembered about his fangs.

“I would- I would very much appreciate if you didn’t pretend that was a mistake.” tango manages, and scott’s eyes glint.

“I wouldn’t dare.” he practically purrs, his breath hot against tango’s face.

there’s a explosion of noise from inside—loud enough for them to hear at a significant volume even outside. tango smirks at scott. “do you think they’ll miss us if we stay out here a little longer?”

scott’s lips twitch into a grin, leaning in so his nose brushes tango’s. “I think we have enough time for another round before they come looking.”

“let’s not waste it.” tango says, closing the gap.

—-

scott wakes up under an unfamiliar blanket, laying on what he’s fairly certain is not his own bed, where everything seems to smell like tango. he has no idea where he is and he doesn’t remember how he ended up here, which may not be the best sign. when he shifts in order to survey his surroundings, it takes a moment for him to realise that he hasn’t just been smashed in the head with an axe and that this is, in fact, the consequences of the far too much alcohol he had the night before.

he blinks against the faint light of the sun peeking through the cracks in the curtains and finds himself in a bedroom that is unmistakably tango’s. that explains why it smells like him, scott supposes.

before scott can fully take advantage of this (shoving his nose into the duvet for as long as he can get away with), a wonderfully familiar voice interrupts his train of thought.

“y’know, you’re even beautiful when you’re asleep. are you like- magic or something?”

scott sits up with great effort, smiling sleepily as he sees tango with two trays of what looks like cooked breakfast. “hey darling.”

tango blushes, laughing softly. “void, i’m never gonna get used to that.” he slides into bed next to scott, handing him his tray as he does.

“well, get used to it.” scott budges closer, pressing a kiss to tango’s cheek before tucking into his breakfast. “oh, you’re an angel.” he says through a mouthful of eggs.

tango is leaning against him. “did we talk about what we are now and I forgot, or did we just make out?”

scott snorts. “I think the latter.” he admits, gesturing to a distinctly bruise-ish looking mark on tango’s neck with his fork. “I did good work.” he says absentmindedly, laughing as a flustered tango elbows him.

“shut up, you look like you got attacked by a horny vampire.” tango says, and scott cackles. “oh- don’t make fun of me, i made you breakfast.”

“I think you just called yourself a horny vampire, love.” scott grins. “but do you wanna talk about what we are?”

tango shrugs in a way that very clearly means ‘yes but I don’t want to come off as clingy’. wow, scott can read him better than he thought. “I mean, what do you want us to be?”

“I personally want you to be my husband, but we gotta do the middle step before we can get there.” scott says simply, and tango looks like he’s just almost choked on his toast. “see, i’m far more clingy than you could ever be, dear.” he winks.

“I want you to be my partner.” tango says, a little nervous, as if scott was ever gonna say anything other than yes.

“then i’m yours.” scott presses a kiss to the corner of tango’s mouth. “I mean, I was yours the second you started wanting me, but I may as well make it official.” he grins at tango’s bewildered expression. “listen, i’ve loved you for a long time.”

tango gives a flustered little huff, grinning almost shyly. “you’re a fuckin’ siren, I was right about that.”

“i’m just being honest.” scott teases, but he can’t quite stop the blush rising on his cheeks. “besides, i’ve been wanting to say all this for a while now, so i’m not gonna shut up anytime soon.” a smirk slips onto his face. “unless you find a way to make me.”

tango rolls his eyes, but he looks extremely tempted. “it’s too early to make out with you. at least give me time to brush my teeth.”

“i’ll grant you that.” scott smiles, leaning closer to tango in order to press a kiss to his cheek. “but only because I love you.”

tango smiles, looking completely smitten. “I love you too.”

[kiwanopie]

pls pls pls brat tamer yuta

thought about brat tamer Yuuta and blacked out. this was in my docs for some reason when I came to again.

Don’t be so mean to Yuuta!

cw: brat tamer! yuuta x fem!reader. smut. pussy slapping. multiple creampies. praise. edging. overstimulation. mirror sex. man handling. floor fucking. minors do not interact.

wc: 1.7k

“Please, I’m-“

“Sorry?”

Yuuta’s voice sends shivers up your spine from where his lips are planted on the sensitive spots of your nape, making hot tracks as his tongue skims over a good spot.

“I bet you are, baby.” He hums. “My sweet girl…”

Doesn’t mean he’ll let up though. If the way his grip tightens over your torso should mean anything. Tucked underneath you on the corner edge of your bed with your back pressed against his chest and his hands touching everywhere.

You don’t know what you did to deserve this. Actually, you know exactly what you did to deserve this, but you didn’t expect he’d be so harsh about it. Let him tell it and he’ll say his “Bratty baby decided to be mean for no reason.” Let you tell it and:

“Why’re you dodging my kisses?”

You roll your eyes from where he’s pouting over you, pointedly shrugging his hands off of your waist when he tries to pull you closer to him. “Why would I want your stupid kisses?”

Yuuta gapes a little at that, a little confused, a little wounded. “My kisses aren’t-? Where’s this attitude coming from?”

“I don’t have an attitude.” Which Yuuta finds hard to believe, with how your face gets all scrunched up in his attempts to crowd you in his space again. Cute little bottom lip jutting out under the shine of your flavored lip gloss and he can’t help but wanna coo at how squeezable you look when you’re throwing a fit.

Although, with the mood you’re in he fears he might come up short a hand if he actually tried to. The way you turn your shoulder at him has him following on your heels like a lost dog. “Not like you’re asking ‘cause you care.”

“Hello? Why wouldn’t I…?” Yuuta stumbles. “Baby, what? You were fine just earlier, did I do something wrong?”

Other than blow you off for like eighty percent of the day? Sure, he invited you to watch him train - bought you lunch when he realized he’d be at it longer than he anticipated, and gave you his phone to entertain yourself with when yours eventually died from being out so long. But he promised the two of you would actually get to hang out today! Not sit on those stupid stone bleachers till your bottom got all sore. Feeding him water in between breaks and pretending like this isn’t the unteenth time something like this has happened.

You’re fed up. He never wants to do what you want anymore. “No, no. Don’t even worry about it. You must be tired anyway. What with all the training you got in.”

Yuuta briefs a few long strides till he’s standing in the pathway to your bedroom door, walking back on his heels as you try to push past him. “I’m not? Is this about that? I didn’t mean to keep you out all day if that’s-“

“It’s whatever.”

“No. It’s not whatever. Clearly you’re upset.” His eyes follow you as he finally plops himself on top of your mattress. Yuuta’s long legs hang off the side so much his knees bend a little and he slumps when you opt to ignore him in favor of fishing your closet for something more comfortable.

“Baby- I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s going on. What’s got you all cranky?”

“Cranky.” You grumble under your breath. “Can't even be mad without you underplaying everything.”

You step out of your closet with a little dress on that makes his face hot. Pretty mint thing that makes you look softer than you already are, even as you throw him a mean glare on your way to your hamper.

“So, you are mad?”

“I’m not.”

“You totally are.”

“I’m not.” You hiss this time. “Maybe you’re just an asshole!”

Whoops.

Which, come to think of it, maybe blowing up at him for no apparent reason was a little much - but it can’t be helped. Especially when you immediately freeze in place over the tension that overcomes the room at your sudden outburst. Yuuta’s brows furrow as his jaw clenches and he stares at you with the kind of blank look that usually comes about when he’s mulling over something.

You expect him to get up and leave the room. Let your respective parties cool off after you’ve just crossed the line by cursing at him so harshly. You expect a kinder punishment than the one he actually has in store.

But instead Yuuta sighs and straightens his back, spreads his legs a little to make room for you. “Come here.”

“Yuu-“

“Mh. Sit down.”

This is just cruelty.

You whimper at the way his fingers skirt over your aching clit, wet sloppy sounds of your lips parting over his glossy digits as he feels around your gooey center. You’re dripping. Soaking the little sliver of mattress you’re hovering over but the meanest part is that it isn’t just your slick that’s making such a mess.

Through misty eyes do you still see the reflection of his throbbing cock splitting you open in the vanity mirror across the room. Slow rhythmless grinding that could just barely push you over the edge if it weren’t for all the-

Smack!

You must’ve been squirming again.

Your broken voice clips in tandem with the loud slap that comes from his sudden assault on your aching pussy, nigh earning another one at the way your hips jump too suddenly in his lap. This is your punishment. Watching in lust dazed envy as your lover fucks you slowly on his cock. Listening to his heated breaths, feeling his hands all over you, being wholly enveloped by him. His voice pitches as his cock swells in your already gooey insides. You can do nothing but whine as he belts his arms around you and cums again with a broken grunt in your ear.

You sniffle as he presses a few scattered kisses behind your ear, already raising his hips to continue. “Please… please let me cum, Yuu..”

“Hhm? No one’s stopping you?”

“But I need-“

“What’dya need an asshole like me for, pretty girl?” And even though he’s being bitter his tone is still sugary. “This little princess cunt can cum all on her own, huh?”

The way you tighten around him has him groaning drunkenly in your ear. “God, you feel so fucking good..”

“Yuutaa, I can’t- I can’t without you. Please…!!”

Yuuta breathes a sigh into the crook of your neck.

He’s been going at this for what feels like forever. At this point you’re so on edge that you’ve started to goosebump and you can’t help yourself but to twitch and whine whenever he grinds against a good spot. Through the overstimulation he’s unsatiated. He can’t fuck into his perfect little pussy the way he wants without risking you getting away with that nasty attitude of yours. Hurting his feelings like you did. And being anything other than his sweet - obedient little girl.

Because bad girls. - Brats like you don’t deserve to get fucked all nice and fair like you’ve been begging him to this past hour or so. They don’t deserve gentleness on their raw little clits or any moment of reprieve you should expect from taking load after load since being seated in his lap like this.

They deserve to be treated like a hole, because that’s all you’re good for right now.

The quick intake of breath he takes startles you almost as much as the feeling of your arms being pulled back behind you. You wobble a little on your numbing legs as he uses his knees to help support you in a stand, and shutter as he presses one last kiss to your nape before standing to his height completely.

And then he starts drilling.

Yuuta has to keep his eyes from rolling back at the way he watches your reflection drool. “O-Oh! Oh, yes! Oh fuck yes, baby!”

He keeps a concentrated frown as he thrusts into you through clenched teeth.

“You’re so-“ Pap! “Fucking spoiled,” Pap! Pap! “You can’t even…mfh, act like you’re learning anything fr’m this..!”

”m’sorry..” You babble. “So s-sorry! M’so sorry, Yuu. So-… p-please… fffuck! Fuck fuck fuck!”

“S’that all you can say? Does my brat even know what she’s apologizing for?”

Your face drops out of view of the mirror when the effort to keep your neck craned up becomes too muscle consuming, most of your muscles too busy constricting and spazzing in the wake of your first orgasm. Honestly, you barely have the wherewithal to speak let alone put together a coherent thought. But you figure not responding might come at the expense of the mind numbing bliss you’re experiencing at the moment.

“F’being so mean! I didn’t-“ You gasp at the way he presses his hips against your backside, grinding himself in so thoroughly that you nearly lose your train of thought.

“I just… wanted ta spend more time with you, Yuu…!”

Yuuta pauses a quick pensive beat.

And then you’re on the floor.

He presses a hand into the middle of your back to keep you arched all prettily for him, the other, knuckle deep in your hair as he mushes your cheek into the floorboards. “So, y’ thought the best way to do that was to call me an asshole?”

“I whasn’t ‘hinking…!”

“Ohh of course you weren’t, baby,” Yuuta shudders at the way you feel creaming on him a second time. “‘Can’t be doing too much thinking now, anyways.”

You’re every nerve ending in your body when he deepens his thrusts to curve himself over your messy form, completely and utterly lost in pleasure as he pulls your head up by your hair and meets your teary eyes with his own - pupils dilated by pure affection.

“Think you can tell me what we learned outta all this? Or have you completely checked out at this point.”

“D-Don’t… don’t be so mean to Yuuta!!”

He chuckles. The kiss he places over your ear nearly pushes you over the edge as much as what he says does. “Good girl! That’s my girl. So smart.”

Your eyes roll as he unceremoniously drops your head to fuck you with more earnest. Much to your poor pussy’s dismay. “Let’s spend more time together, baby. - Just you and me.”

He coos at the way your drool starts to gather in a cute little puddle under your cheek. “After I’m sure my baby’s learned her lesson.”

[cr4yolaas]

mezzo forte — by the shore

prologue | masterlist | track 2: homesick for a person

♪ this one got a little longer than i anticipated. whoops

♪ yachi is a chronic instigator she loves gossip even if it doesn't make sense </3

♪ kiyoko booked a rlly nice airbnb but forgot to tell them that it was really far from the airport ... she was the only one prepared for the heat

♪ if you're wondering why they didn't just take a taxi it's because they kept running into really cute fields and spots and wanted to take sm pics LOL. they were stopping every 30 seconds

♪ kiyoko loves motivating her gf's instigative tendencies she thinks its funny how she jumps from conclusion to conclusion

♪ tooru has a whole hierarchy for how important a person is to him based on how he texts them and yachi figured it out despite barely talking to him

♪ yn definitely did not go to bed at a normal time drafting those lyrics ... she got scolded by the gfs </3333

taglist: @froyaoya @causenessus @guitarstringed-scars @yuminako @chemiru @sunnyskiezzzz @httpsivy @itsdragonius @theycallmenanamisgirl @wyrcan @19calicos @hunnies4bunnies @mawenskiblue

if your name is italicized, i’m unable to tag you. please check your visibility settings :)

[ravarui]

@ncfertari receives an accidental kidnapping, in regards to this post

Keeping a low profile while traversing the halls of Mary Geoise was the most important thing for a man in his position. If the wrong people caught wind of his presence then it would be an absolute nightmare for him to get away. Not that he worried about anyone being able to due him real harm, but it would still be an annoying hussle he would prefer to avoid.

There had been a commotion earlier, one he had only half paid attention too, as he used it as a welcome distraction to continue on his way. His talk with the five elders had been fruitless, but fine, if these stubborn old men wanted to ignore his warnings then so be it. Sooner or later it would come back to bite them in the ass, he was sure about that.

The Reverie was in full swing and he could only shake his head at these nobles. He would never understand their ways, never cared for them in the first place either. Not that he had any reason too, he was a pirate, he didn't play by their rules. Never had, never would be.

The sound of heavy footsteps running into his direction, followed by loud yelling was what got his attention. Great. Just what he needed. It's only thanks to his observation haki that he doesn't collide with the young woman who comes running around the corner. The chains around her wrists the first thing he noticed, followed by the fact that she wasn't wearing one of the collars typical for slaves. Had she escaped before receiving that one? It would explain the noises of the guards coming closer.

The emperor reacts quickly, grabbing her by her wrist and pulling her into the shadows of one of the massive columns that adorned the halls of the castle. Letting go of her wrist he moved his hand to cover her mouth, while moving her closer to his body, using his cloak to conceal them better in the shadows. "Be quiet if you don't want them to discover us."

He waited a moment, wanting to be sure that she complied before he moved his hand away from her mouth again. The guards were still close by, frantic in their search for her.

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part Two)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warning: Incest (at this stage implied), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Mild Smut

Words: 4,878

Summary:

This plays after Grace’s death but before Tommy becomes a politician. Lizzie is pregnant with Tommy’s child, so it is somewhere around season four.

In this fic, Tommy suffers from episodes of PTSD and so does the reader, resulting from trauma and abuse. They will help and save each other without realising that their connection is much stronger than they could have anticipated.

There will be love, fluff and smut as well as a highly taboo relationship.

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE! 

QUESTION: WHO IS TOMMY TO THE READER? WHOOPS!

The following morning…

The following morning, you woke up at 4 o’clock after hearing a loud bang, followed right by another. Your neighbour was clearly beating on his wife again and you wondered when she would finally leave him and this awful marriage of hers behind.

She reminded you of your mother. Your very own mother who, for almost eighteen years, had failed to protect you and protect herself from the monster who was your stepfather.

He was the cause of your pain and suffering, hurting you and abusing you, physically and mentally, until you ran away. But still, you were one of the lucky ones having been spared the sexual abuse and assault on your womanhood. He tried, but never quite got there. Thank God.

God? What God? Was there something like a God? You decided, probably not and then there it was again, the darkness which consumed you. You had no faith and the quiet sobs at night time that no one knew about came on creeping in. The urges that overwhelmed you started to haunt you once more and the intrusive thoughts and the fear of physical contact became a stark reminder of what you have been through.

You hated every god damn moment of this but, at least today, you had something to look forward to. There was someone who was giving you a chance, an opportunity and legal employment. Although, really, the legality of this man’s businesses was questionable and you knew that. But you did not care.

He was the kind of man your mother had warned you about and yet, there was something which intrigued you about him.  His demure, his attitude and his intelligence stood out to you and so did his god damn blue eyes.

Thus, with some reluctance, you eventually rolled out of bed and turned on the light. You looked down on yourself, still wearing your nightgown and, for the first time in a very long time, you saw a woman who was willing to change. It was not just about surviving anymore. It was about gaining something. Something important and real, whatever that may be.

A week ago, when you looked at yourself in the mirror, all you could see were your scars. Even now, having tattooed over some of them, the scars were still visible and you knew that they would always be.

But, this may not necessarily be a bad thing as the scars no longer defined who you are but, rather, were the remainder of times during which you were in an enormous amount of emotional pain.  

On your wrist, you featured a tattoo with the words “this story isn’t over” and, whilst in today’s society, pre 1930, tattoos were frowned upon if worn by women, on the days when shame overwhelmed you, and when you felt like you could no longer go on, you looked at your tattoo and reminded yourself that your story certainly was not over yet. In fact, it had only just begun as, clearly, today was going to be the day your life would change and you felt strongly about it. You had a feeling that, today, something great would happen to you and, with that in mind, you put on a dress which, too, was stolen, and a pair of heels which were just a little too high for you to walk in. You even wore a hat which, again, you misappropriated from a small shop downtown and tugged your hair back into a neat bun with some pearl clips.

For your first day at work, you wanted to look professional even though you had no experience in administerial work whatsoever and did not quite understand what your role at Shelby Company Limited would entail.

Later at the Small Heath Gambling Den…

“That’s her, surely” Lizzie spat as Linda and her watched you walk through the door of the gambling den which, to you, was hard to find. You heard them talk about you and were nervous like a young girl on her first day of school. This was your first proper job and you were excited about it.

“You must be Y/N, Thomas’s new secretary” Lizzie then said before assessing you from top to bottom. The fact that she used his first name to refer to him surprised you but when she told you that she was about to be laid up, the situation became much more obvious to you. She was carrying his child, but he clearly did not love her enough to marry her. Typical.

“I am Y/N, but did you just say that I will be the new secretary?” you asked with great surprise while a cold shiver ran down your spine. You could neither read nor write, so how on earth would you be able to fulfill this role you wondered?

“Yes, you will be a secretary to Thomas Shelby who, I may add, is very demanding in many ways” Lizzie exclaimed in response to your question.

“No doubt he is” you simply responded while glancing at her growing bump with a little jealousy perhaps, seeing that you took at least a mild interest in your new employer.

“I assume you have experience and this is why he hired you?” was the next question Lizzie asked you and she now spoke to you in an almost snobbish way, looking down on you which, of course, was not too difficult. She was much taller than you after all and absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous.

“Actually, no, I do not! I have no experience in this line of work. I only met Mr Shelby last night and he offered me a job. I didn’t even know what the job would entail but, stupidly enough, I accepted anyway as I need the money” you explained with honesty and this surprised Lizzie who, clearly, was expecting some competition at the den.

“Where did you meet?” another woman then asked before shaking your hand and introducing herself as Polly Gray. She was clearly of authority around here and took a good look at you as well.

The way she looked at you however was different to the way Lizzie looked at you. Lizzie’s looks were filled with anger, fear and concern as well as some jealousy, whereas Polly’s looks were filled with questions about your identity. She saw a familiarity inside of you which she could not explain.

“Have we met before? You seem familiar” she observed but you shook your head.

“Not that I know off” you told her but Polly’s intuition told her to keep an eye on you and figure out to whom you belonged. She felt a connection towards you and this was not necessarily a good thing.

“Very well, so tell me again, where did you and Tommy meet last night?” she then asked and you swallowed harshly.

“At Madam Juans” you then admitted, causing Polly to roll her eyes and laugh while Lizzie stormed off and took a seat behind her desk which, apparently, would become your desk soon.

“Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me” Polly chuckled while giving you a sorry pat on the back and you were quick to shake your head in order to correct her.

“Oh no. You misunderstand. We did not have intimate relations” you blurted out quickly without admitting that, in fact, you had never even been kissed before. Intimacy was alien to you and you were afraid of being hurt by a man in any physical kind of way after your stepfather had beaten the living hell out of you for years.

“You did not have sex?” Lizzie asked, confused. “But you are a whore?” she then queried and you shook your head.

“No. I am not. I am waitress there. That is all” you explained while Polly chuckled again.

“Interesting, but unfortunately, I must go now. I have several meetings to attend to Lizzie will show you the robes around here and, no doubt, Thomas will be in his office sometime today, or not. You never know with him” Polly said before making an elegant exit from the den while pondering on about your identity and Tommy’s urge to employ you without consulting with her first.

Several hours later…

Several more hours had passed and you were shown how to take calls and take notes which, luckily for you, Lizzie still had control over.

You had not yet admitted to her that you could neither read nor write and you knew that, as soon as she would find out, all hell would break loose.

Since you started at nine o’clock that morning, Tommy too had arrived in his office but, without even greeting you or Lizzie, he closed the door behind him and you had not heard from him since.

Lizzie informed you that, on occasion, he likes to keep to himself and, clearly, today was one of those occasions.

“Can you type?” she eventually asked and you shook your head before, finally, she saw you to her desk.

“Of course you can’t. That is not why he hired you” she then murmured under her breath and you queried what she had meant by that.

“Pardon?” you began to say and Lizzie sighed while setting up the typewriter for you.

“Never mind. I will have to fucking show you how to type then, don’t I?” she spat and then began dictating a letter to you which, clearly, you failed to transcribe properly.

“You can’t write” she then observed angrily and you nervously shook your head. You were embarrassed and nervous about loosing this job, the money for which you needed so desperately.

“Well, then me teaching you is absolutely pointless” Lizzie then said before storming off and into Tommy’s office without even bothering to knock first.

***

Several minutes later, and after some shouting and yelling from behind closed doors, you saw Lizzie again but she did not speak with you. She simply reached for her coat and bag, before storming off and leaving the den a little less graciously than Polly Gray did earlier that day. Clearly, she was angered by the fact that you were working here and you well and truly hoped that Tommy would not fire you over this.

But then again, who were you kidding, right? You could neither read nor write, so what would he do with you? Put you up in a factory, perhaps?

And then, there it was…the moment you feared…

“Y/N, a word please” Tommy said to you while poking his head through the door and you immediately jumped up from your seat and stumbled towards his office.

The height of your new heels certainly did not help with your trembling legs and, as you were fidgeting nervously when entering his office, you tripped and almost twisted your ankle.

‘I am sorry Mr Shelby’ you huffed out with embarrassment as you watched him watching you stumbling into the side of the bookshelf.

It was obvious to you that he tried hard not to laugh about what had just happened, but a small chuckle escaped him nonetheless.

‘Love, please take them off before you hurt yourself, eh’ Tommy said with a half-smile but it was when he looked at you directly that you felt your hands inevitably began to shake slightly. You weren’t that intimidated by him when you saw him at the brothel last night and you wondered yourself what had changed since then, within a span of twenty hours. He was your employer now, sure, but was that it? Or was there something more to it? Maybe it was the fact that he was about to fire you which made you nervous or maybe it was him, his eyes and his intoxicating scent.

Even though Tommy was slightly amused by your little accident, his eyes were both your favourite and least favourite feature about him. You noticed them last night too, so intimidating and yet soothing all at the same time. They were deep blue, and absolutely piercing when he made direct eye contact. It gave you a strange sense of fear, and you now found yourself looking down when you spoke to him, afraid that, if you made direct eye contact, you might lose your train of thought.

‘Have a seat next to me’ Tommy then instructed after you took off your shoes and approached his desk, tippy toeing across the very cold wooden floor.

He then glanced at your shoes again and smirked. “You stole them, didn’t you?” he asked and you nodded shyly.

“Yes. I did” you said, chuckling nervously.

“Well, perhaps next time, you should steal some shoes you can actually walk in Love” Tommy said with a great sense of amusement before asking you a very important question.

“Do you know what I do for a living?” he wanted to know and you shook your head.

“I have heard stories, but I don’t believe them to be true. I know that you own factories and gambling dens, but that is all” you said shyly, causing Tommy to cock his eyebrows.

“Tell me honestly Love, do you not believe them to be true or do you not want them to be true. Because, the way I see it, there is a distinct difference between those two scenarios” Tommy then said before pulling a chair to his side and gesturing for you to sit down.

“Okay. I know that some of what you do is probably illegal, but I do not care. I just want this job” you told Tommy who smirked before giving you a slight nod.

“You want the job, eh?” Tommy asked with a smirk on his face before handing you his pen. “Then write down the names of every mistress taking pay offs from my customers at Madam Juans” Tommy then said and you immediately had to grasp for air.

“I can’t” you said, fidgeting again before realising quickly how terribly embarrassing you must have looked in front of this man right now. This was not the look you were aiming for.

‘Do I intimidate you Love? Is that why you cannot write down the names?’ Tommy then asked bluntly, looking at you with a slight smirk on his face again as you continued to fidget even more nervously now.

‘No Mr Shelby’ you said nervously, causing him to chuckle.  

‘No?’ he then asked with a smug smile and you immediately looked away from him. This was too much for you and, if he had not asked you another question right away, drilling you for an answer, you would have stood up and left.

‘Look at me and tell me the truth Y/N. Do I intimidate you?’ Tommy asked again and you complied with his request and told him the truth.

‘Yes, you intimidate me. But that is not the reason I cannot write down the names’ you said shyly while looking into his piercing blue eyes.

‘You can’t write or read, can you?’ Tommy then said almost gently and it was clear to you that he already knew. Lizzie must have told him and he was simply teasing you now, playing a game of some sort.  

“No, I can’t write and I can’t read” you admitted reluctantly and it was at this point that Tommy lid himself a cigarette and leaned back into his chair.

“In that case, you are fired as a secretary” he smirked, causing you to gasp for air again. You were devastated, needing this job and the money he had offered you.

“I understand” you said nonetheless and Tommy smiled.

“But, I have another job for you Love” he then said, taking you by surprise. “Just because you did not learn how to write or read doesn’t mean that you are not smart and smart people is what I need right now as my export business is expanding” he then said before asking you to pour him and yourself a glass of whiskey.

‘You think that I am smart, do you?” you asked, causing Tommy to chuckle once more.

“I know that you are smart. You stole from my patrons and you got away with it for several months. You just couldn’t fool me, eh” Tommy observed before making another sly remark. “In fact, no one can fool me” he determined and you broke out in a giggle.

“Really? No one?” you asked as you stood up and walked over towards the desk on which the whiskey bottles were standing and, just as you walked there, you could feel Tommy’s eyes on you, watching you as you walked across his office barefooted.

“No, no one I have met so far” Tommy said while taking in your natural beauty and the scent you left behind.

“You are very full of yourself” you then said as you took hold of a whiskey bottle and poured two glasses from it before walking back with them to where Tommy was sitting.

“And you do not believe in yourself or your abilities Love. We need to change that” Tommy then said as you sat back down and handed him a glass while taking the other for yourself.

***

Just as you were sipping on your whiskey while talking with Tommy about the mistresses at Madam Juan and the job he had for you, you began to relax a little. Your mind was clearly eased by the effects of the alcohol you consumed and you began to realise why Lizzie took a liking in this man.

He was incredibly attractive but also charming in his very own and somewhat brutal way. Then there was his voice, low and gruffy, making it difficult for you to concentrate. He was burdened with intellect and, for some reason, he spoke to you as if you were his kin.

You drank and spoke for hours. You talked about your life which Tommy seemed to be interested in. He asked you about your family ties, doing his research on your background before revealing more of his businesses to you.

You told him about your mother but purposely omitted reference to your father.

“What about your father?” he thus asked and you sighed deeply.

“I never knew my father. My mother always said that he was a dangerous man so she kept me away from him. All I know is that he went to France with his two younger brothers and never came back” you said, causing Tommy to furrow his eyebrows. This, he did not know about you but, before he could question you about your biological father again, you explained to him that you grew up with your mother and your stepfather who you considered to be an evil man.

“Did he do this to you?” Tommy then asked while trying to get hold of one of your wrists but you pulled away abruptly in fear.

“Please don’t” you said and Tommy was quick to apologise. Your wrists were clearly off limit and he respected that.  

“I am sorry Love. I did not intend to hurt you” he was then quick to say after seeing your reaction. You had almost dropped your glass to the floor and started fidgeting again.

“It’s fine…and no, I did this to myself” you told him, which is when he recalled that, at the brothel, you too were afraid of his touch and he knew that there must have been a reason for this. There was something that bothered you. You clearly did not like to be held or restrained and he wondered what it was that made you so fearful.

In addition to that, Tommy remembered that, at the brothel, you were wearing long satin gloves, seemingly in an attempt to hide your scars, of which he got a closer look now. Your arms were covered in them and, once again, you tried to cover them up with your jacket.

“Let’s talk about something else, eh” Tommy eventually suggested after you began to feel rather vulnerable around him and, with that, you nodded before simply listening to Tommy’s ideas about how to improve his businesses and how he thought you could help him with that. This conversation took at least another hour and you were in a cheerful mood again. You were laughing and, much to his very own surprise, Tommy did the same. He laughed, genuinely, for the first time in two years.

As you were talking about business, you stammered out some ideas as well, easing into the conversation as you scribbled down a point in your notebook that you were sure would make no sense to your later.

“So you can write” Tommy then observed sarcastically and you shook your head.

“Barely and not without spelling mistakes” you chuckled just before Tommy asked you to pour the two of you some more whiskey.

‘Yes, of course Mr Shelby’ you said, looking at your watch before walking back over towards the sideboard and pouring Tommy and yourself another glass of Irish single malt.

‘Please, just call me Tommy, eh’ he said as you handed him back his glass, causing you to smile.

‘Okay, Tommy, but if this is your way of making an advance towards me, then I must disappoint you…” you teased and, whilst this was meant to come across as a joke, Tommy did not see it that way and cut you off.

“Love, if I was to make an advance towards you, then I would not be doing it through words” Tommy chuckled before moving on. “I would be doing this instead…” he then said before, ever so gently, caressing your face and then, in a careful but calculated move, pressing his soft lips against yours in order to see how you would react.

You immediately froze but allowed the kiss to happen nonetheless. It was your very first kiss and it happened so suddenly; with a man you barely knew but who, for whatever reason, you trusted enough to take this further.

You just had a feeling about him. It was a feeling of comfort and safety and you knew that, provided that his hands remained where they were now, namely caressing your cheeks, you would be able to tolerate his touch, and perhaps even enjoy it.

When he kissed you passionately, you could sense that he was taking it slowly. As such, the kiss was reluctant at first and you could taste the remnants of smoke and whiskey on his lips.

 His lips were so surprisingly soft and smooth against your own and, as Tommy moved them sensually, a warmth flooded your body, causing you to feel desired for the time in your life.

 There was no pressure or force in this kiss. It was tender and calm and you felt Tommy’s lips massage every inch of your mouth in the most sensual way.

 His rough thumbs moved over the soft skin on your cheeks, over and over again and, without hesitation, you responded to his touch, your passion increasing the longer it went on.

 With every second that passed, there was a new sensation you had to take in and it was after at least a minute that Tommy reached out slightly with his tongue. He ran the tip along the length of your lips, probing away where you joined, seeking an opportunity to dip inside. By now, your mind was awash with arousal, a sensation which, too, was alien and foreign to you. Any apprehension you had just vanished, and you just wanted more.

 You gasped under your breath and your hands eventually found their way into Tommy’s hair. No sooner had you parted your lips, no sooner had you given him an opening, than you felt the tip of his tongue ease inside. You gasped once more as your tongues touched, a sense of electricity passing through you.

 The more you kissed, the more you relaxed. The more you relaxed, the more you wanted him. And, the more you wanted him, the more you felt your arousal stir.

 What on earth was this feeling? So strange. So alien. So goddamn amazing…until, suddenly Tommy pulled away. He broke the kiss, leaving you wanting for more. You started to protest, but Tommy simply brought a finger to your lips urging you not to continue.

 "I am sorry Love” Tommy spoke softly.

 “For kissing me?” you queried while shyly bringing your middle and index finger to your lips, feeling them after they have been kissed for the very first time. They felt swollen and moist and you bit your lower lip inadvertently, wanting to feel Tommy’s mouth against yours again.

 “No, that I am not sorry for” Tommy chuckled. “But I am sorry for my motive having been two-fold when offering you employment at my company. So, I must ask, do you still want the job knowing that I have taken an interest in you?” Tommy then asked and you blushed.

“Well, Tommy…” you began to say while trying to find your words. “Yes. In fact, I believe that my appetite for the position in your company has just increased quite drastically” you then said shyly while Tommy caressed your cheek again.

 “Good. I am glad” Tommy smiled before kissing you once more, this time more briefly. He knew that this must have been a first for you and he also knew that you must have been about fifteen years younger than him. He could tell by the way you had reacted to his onslaught and, with that in mind, he didn’t take it any further than that. He was patient, giving you time, regardless of how much he wanted you and, the truth was, that he wanted you a lot. He wanted you more than anyone else since the day he had met Grace. He was in awe with you and, feeling that way again, worried him. He felt alive and when he felt alive, he knew that he would do dangerous things.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Yay your asks are open

Can I please get headcanons with Fuegoleon, William, and nozel with an s/o who sings beautifully and sings them a soft lullaby as he lays his head on their lap when he has a headache from overworking?

Yes they are!! ^^

Oh this was so cute that I just had to jump on it, and... I got a bit carried away ^^' Whoops. But I do hope that you like these ^^

Pairings: Fuegoleon x gn!reader, William x gn!reader, Nozel x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Fanfic type: Oneshots

Warnings: None

Total length: ~2.6k

Fuegoleon

Dusk was beginning to peek from behind the horizon and with it, just behind the treeline, you could see a veil of orange, red and gold, almost as if the warmth of your home was reflected in the world that opened before you from the window. Though, at times, you mused to yourself that it was only fitting to see such sunsets from the Crimson Lion Kings’ living quarters. It was a mere thought that tugged the corner of your lips up for a short while, in passing, whenever it occurred. But just as a summer breeze, in was soon swept away.

The door behind you opened, which made you turn around, only to see your husband return much earlier than anticipated. Not that you complained, oh no. In fact, it was much better this way, that he came home early every once in a while to get some rest.

But, just as soon as he stepped through the door, your expression turned into a frown, as the gentle loving smile you had grown to know, wasn’t there. Instead, he was pinching the bridge of his nose, and his head hung low; as low as it might hang when speaking about the king among lions.

His hair draped over his shoulders, and his cape was hanging from his left arm as he held it against his body, as if having shed some weight off of his shoulders.

Which in itself, perhaps, shouldn’t have been surprising. If anything, it was a wonder how he could carry the weight of his responsibilities with such elegance and poise to begin with. But, then again, he was special. He was strong and brilliant.

However, now, something was the matter, which is why you needed to ask about it.

“Is everything alright, my love?” You inquired, voice soft and gentle like silk to his ear, as in it there was also a welcome to home.

“Yes,” he replied as a faint smile appeared on his lips while hanging the cape away. “It’s just that… I think the last week has taken a toll on me, as I have a headache.” He admitted. And in the admission there was a hint of a … not quite shame, but perhaps apprehension. Because he knew that he ought to take good care of himself. After all, he was always telling you to get plenty of sleep, and remember to rest, while working ungodly hours himself.

“Then you should rest,” you said, speaking out a fact with a kind, understanding smile. Because you did understand him. You understood his drive, his motivations and wish to be the best version of himself while wanting nothing but the best for his knights and the kingdom. But he shouldn’t do it at the expense of his health.

Which he knew.

“Come one,” you urged with a near whisper while taking his hand and leading him towards the bed, with which he complied.

Of course he complied. Because though he might have had to retire early for the day, because of a headache, and simply not being able to process information, having you there made it all the more sweet; being home. Though, he had to wonder, if it would have felt like being at home in the first place without you being there. Because home was no longer a place for him, it was a person; you.

And as you laid together in bed, him placing his head onto your lap as you sat against the headboard, he could already feel some of the tension and dreariness off his body seeping away from him.

You sank your fingers into his hair and let the silken locks run through your fingers, gentle like a summer stream on a warm evening just washing over his body.

“Would it be easier if I removed my hair tie?” He inquired while looking at you with those eyes that were not quite royal purple and not quite lavender, but something else instead. A combination of silk and velvet that pulled you in time and time again.

“Maybe, if you like this that is,” you smirked, earning a chuckle from him as he lifted himself just enough to take off the hair tie and settle back down, head securely in your lap.

And just like that he closed his eyes, sinking into the sensation of your fingers brushing against his scalp, through the vermillion locks that bore the slightest scent of lavender. His chest rose as he took a deep inhale, and lowered back down with a steady, low, exhale that held the slightest hint of a hum.

With it, you begun humming a tune that had grown to be fond to you. A comforting melody of a lullaby that he had grown to know well too, and yet not quite well enough for his taste. A melody that he had only heard you hum, since you thought it to be, perhaps, strange to be singing a lullaby to him.

“Which song is that?” He thought to ask, this time, as he laid there, concentrating on the feeling of your touch.

“It’s a lullaby,” you answered with the faintest of senses of amusement in your tone.

“Oh,” he uttered, meaning nothing more with it. “Will you sing?”

There was a hint of absurdity in the request, but only a hint, a speck of dust on an open ocean. Because, he loved to listen to you sing.

“You wish to hear?”

He chuckled, only a little, and almost too quietly for you to hear. Almost, but not quite. “I love to hear you sing.”

And with it you, in turn, chuckled under your breath, before breathing in, and beginning to sing: “Golden slumbers kiss your eyes…”

His smile grew wider, more content, softer and more relaxed, as if all the burdens of the world couldn’t reach him anymore.

“Smiles await you when you rise…”

His breathing grew more calm and deep, speaking of how he was supposed to dose off out of exhaustion, the weariness in his bones. But he had more than earned a good rest. So, you sang, and let him drift away as you held him, with a wide, proud, loving smile on your lips.

William

Light cascaded in through the window, painting the entire room in various hues of golden light with the setting sun, as if creating a veil between the world that existed outside and the room itself. A welcomed state of being that allowed one to settle in for the night, for the evening, and to shed the burdens of life behind the bedroom door. Though, sometimes, it was easier than at other times, which was only natural.

And from the way William walked in through the door that evening, told you enough.

It’d be one of the days, when shedding that burden would be harder.

His eyes were down, and his chin was hanging low, but still he tried to give you a faint smile as a greeting.

And yet there was something in his demeanour that spoke of something else, an added sense of trouble.

“How was your day?” You asked with an innocent question as he put his cloak and mask away for the day.

His steps were heavy, nearly dragging. And the exhale, nearly a sigh, was almost defeated.

“Long,” he replied after a brief pause. “And I seem to have gotten a headache too,” he continued, almost as if an afterthought.

“Well… you do have a lot on your mind,” you told, with faint, careful amusement, to which he replied with a quiet chuckle.

“That I do,” he agreed as he sat onto the bed and took off his boots.

“You should rest, for the evening,” your voice was gentle, warm and loving, but beneath the layers there was a hidden sense of insisting. Because that was what he should do. He should rest, and take his mind off of work, for at least a short amount of time.

“I’ll try,” he sounded absent minded. He sounded like he knew that he should, while being simultaneously reluctant to do so, because of the age old dilemma of needing to think about it in order to think of a solution, and that allowing him to do something about it. Only that he had more of a habit of staying in thinking of even a better solution, as he had difficulties, at times, in settling for one.

But that was an observation that you had made, as his spouse, and it would stay as your observation.

“I know something that will make you feel better,” there was a hint of a tease in your tone, as if laced with a delicious smirk that he could hear.

And so, he turned his head, to look over his shoulder with a curious hum.

“Mhm,” you grinned while climbing onto the bed from the other side. “Come here,” you tapped the covers next to you, close to the head of the bed. “I’ll sing for you.”

His eyes fell again, but this time his lips were tugged up into a smile, as if burden was leaving him layer by layer, and relief took its place. “Like my beloved songbird,” he spoke out loud, but it sounded more like something he was thinking. Because you were his precious, beloved songbird; his nickname for you.

“Like your beloved songbird,” you teased as you settled against the head of the bed, and sat with your legs straight in front of you. “Come rest your weary head, and I’ll sing,” you repeated with a smile and a smirk. Something that was a bit of both, but was quite neither.

There was another, inaudible chuckle from him, as he crawled over the sheets to you and placed his head onto your lap.

“Is this alright?” He asked while settling down, because he didn’t want the weight of his head to cause discomfort to you.

“Yes, it’s alright,” you replied while running your fingers through his hair and over his scar. You could still remember the day when he had first shown it to you, and it had been clear from his eyes, his demeanour and the words he had said, that he was terrified to his bones of you leaving him.

But how could you have? He had trusted his insecurities onto you, and he was still as handsome as ever, perhaps even more handsome, because of it.

And now, as those deep purple eyes of his, like amethysts, closed and settled into the sensation of your fingers running over his skin, your smile was as wide as ever. The golden light of the setting sun cascaded onto his complexion as he took a deep breath, and sank further in into the moment.

“Now it’s time to say good night…”

The corner of his mouth tugged further up as the first notes left your lips.

“Good night, sleep tight…”

As if whatever headache would have been there had subsided into thin air with the sound of your voice.

“Now the sun turns out his light…”

And who knows, perhaps, it had.

“Good night, sleep tight…”

But what you did know, was that the man, the person you loved with all your hear, was drifting into sleep right there, in your arms, to the sound of your voice.

Nozel

Most would perhaps have said that the halls of the Silver Eagle base, or their part of the castle, was cold and hollow, as if painted with silver, snow and ice. But, for those who knew better, only one was true. For those walls might have bore the colour of silver here and there, and though you could understand why the cold of winter frost had howled through the halls, once upon a time, to you, here and now, the specks of silver glimmered in the light of the setting sun, and made it seem as if the star sky was right there on earth itself.

And it was there, under that glimmer of silver and light that the door to your bedroom opened, and revealed the frowning face of your beloved.

His eyes were down, and his chin was lowered, which wasn’t an unusual sight per se. Because there was a lot on his plate, and he wore his heart on his sleeve while at home. He didn’t hide his emotions from you.

“Rough day?” You asked with a compassionate smile and a gentle tone that flowed through the air like feathers caught in a breeze.

“It was,” he sighed while putting his cloak away. “All of it gave me a headache.”

“Hmm,” you hummed with a hint of a tease. “Or it was rough because you had a headache?” You suggested, making him glance to you.

“Does it matter?” He quirked on eyebrow.

“It matters if you haven’t remembered to drink enough water and eaten well,” you told him while reaching him.

And he still looked at you, but didn’t say a word. Which told you enough.

Your look told him enough. Because you had had this conversation before, and he assured you that he’d eat and drink and take care of himself. But it was sometimes difficult being in the position that he was.

So, you did also understand him.

“Have you eaten now?” You asked while brushing his hair back with your fingers.

“Yes, I ate right before coming here,” he replied, and there was no lie in his eyes or his tone, so you nodded.

“Then come on, let’s get some rest for that gorgeous head of yours,” you smirked while tugging his hand closer to the bed.

“Just my head?” He asked with tired eyes and a tender smile, and you laughed.

It was a short, and yet loud laugh that left your lungs. Because he didn’t joke often. Only once in a blue moon.

Most would have argued that he didn’t have a ‘fun bone’ in his body, but you knew better. He had a sense of humour too. He just didn’t show it. Because he wasn’t supposed to be funny. He wasn’t supposed to make people laugh.

But it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t have been able to make a joke, when he was comfortable in doing so.

“All of you,” you corrected with a slight laugh while climbing onto the bed and pulling him with you.

The sheets were soft, silken, perhaps far too comfortable, as if a silver cloud floating through the air as you crawled to the headboard and propped yourself against it.

“You can rest your head on my lap,” you told him while patting your thigh and smiling to him.

And again, he said nothing, but instead followed the suggestion and settled his head onto your lap.

His arms wrapped around your body, and his legs tangled together with yours as he closed his eyes, and breathed in your scent as it seemed he was ready to drift off into sleep.

“Somewhere over the rainbow…”

Your ran your fingers through his hair, which was thick and lush; silken much like the bedsheets under you.

“Way up high…”

The rising and falling of his chest grew more and more heavy, tranquil.

“There’s a land that I heard of…”

As if the melody, the sound of your voice was making his worries and troubles melt away and his pain subside like storm clouds.

“Once in a lullaby…”

The word you would have used to describe him in that moment, would have been ‘adorable’, something that one wouldn’t have thought of the dashing captain of the Silver Eagles. But… he was, in fact, adorable. Behind closed doors.

[neuroticbookworm]

Understanding the Core Four of La Pluie

Last Saturday, I screamed into this hellsite about the brilliance of La Pluie episode 10, and in the last couple of days, I read many amazing metas from my fellow La Pluie fiends that broke down all the well-executed dimensions of this episode (keep an eye out for this week’s La Pluie meta roundup from my pal @lurkingshan). When we last saw these characters in episode 9, Lomfon was running the hamster wheel in his brain, trying to figure out how to navigate his situation of hearing Saengtai (and Patts) when it rained. Tien was nursing a crush on Lomfon, and Tai and Patts had made things official and were stronger than ever. Then came episode 10, which turned everything upside down and left us speechless.

I loved and enjoyed every aspect of this episode: acting, plot development, cinematography, screenwriting, and more. But the one that blew me away the most was how the motivation and drive behind each character’s actions were perfectly in line with the character traits the show has already established. I initially wanted to write this post only to explore these traits, but after observing the La Pluie fandom discourse for the past week, I expanded it to include my defense of why every character in the La Pluie Core Four "deserves" the resolutions the show is poised to give them in the coming days.

Tien:

When Tien enters the pivotal conflict scene in the rain, he walks into a kiss between his brother and the guy he has a crush on. Absolutely heartbreaking. We see him stand still on the side, while Patts rushes to push Lomfon away from Tai and punch him repeatedly in the face (though not hard enough, as my friend @bengiyo argues here, and I fully agree. That ass-whooping should've been harder and longer). And after Patts and Tai walk away, Tien faces Lomfon, who just recklessly messed up the lives of everyone around him with no regard for anyone's feelings.

Here’s a quick list of Tien’s personality traits that were on display in this scene:

Tien is calm. He is pissed, he is rattled by the events, and yet he starts with a pretty calm "What did you mean?"

Tien is logical. He immediately counters Lomfon's explanation about his hearing loss and him being Saengtai's soulmate with, "You liar. I'm speaking now, and you can hear me."

Tien is a good communicator. He clearly confessed his feelings to Lomfon and how he thought his feelings were reciprocated, even when his heart was in tatters. He managed to be the most open and honest person out of everyone involved in this mess, and he hadn’t even done anything wrong. We would’ve completely understood his actions if he had just walked away after cussing out Lomfon, but that’s not the Tien we’ve seen and adored for the last nine episodes.

Tien is brave. He had been developing feelings for Lomfon for a while, and he thought his feelings were reciprocated. Being vulnerable and confessing your feelings to your crush is a nerve-wracking experience in its own right, and yet Tien confessed his feelings after Lomfon had just kissed his brother, potentially ruining any possibility of a relationship between them. For that alone, he is one of the bravest sonsofbitches I've seen in a BL so far.

I was not expecting to be surprised by Tien in this episode. I don’t exactly know what I thought his reaction would be to the Lomfon-sized wreaking ball I knew was coming, but I had only anticipated a heartbroken Tien. Instead, I got a Tien who was the only level-headed and rational person in this fight. And all of these wonderful traits were already established in the show's previous episodes:

Tien is one of the calmer Saengs. We have seen each of the Saeng brothers handle their parents' split very differently in the flashbacks. Saengtai and Saengchan are usually in tears and are physically reactive, whereas Saengtien and Saengnuea are the ones holding them back and comforting them.

Lomfon is not the only one who ran experiments to understand his feelings. Tien is also logical (albeit less neurotic and more sensible than Lomfon), and he worked through his sudden feelings for Lomfon after they held hands in the classroom by holding hands with his friends. He’s also open to opinions from others, as he talks to Tai about his feelings. Which makes him…

A good communicator. Tien also calls out Tai’s reluctance to communicate with his mother rationally, and to try and understand her side of things in the divorce and her relationship with her boyfriend, Nu.

Tien is an excellent subversion of the "playful and less mature younger sibling" character because, while he is easy-going and playful, he’s also the most emotionally intelligent and mature character out of the Core Four. Moving on to his elder, albeit much less emotionally mature brother, Tai.

Tai and Patts:

I’m analyzing Patts and Tai’s actions together because this way it’s easier to compare their words and actions towards each other in this episode, to their relationship dynamics that were established previously. The explosive fight and the subsequent breakup were shocking, but smart cookies like @lurkingshan, @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup and @ginnymoonbeam posited in our conversations, before the episode aired, that it was time for Patts’ frustrations and insecurities to rise to the surface. And boy did it rise up. This conflict between the primary couple has already been extensively analyzed by @lurkingshan here, so I will add my little observations on how Patts and Tai’s behavior in this fight is supported by the writing of the show so far.

@ginnymoonbeam has shared her thoughts on Tai’s avoidant personality, here. I want to add that Tai is also incredibly stubborn and hard to please. His father says so, to Patts during their dinner in episode 5.

The phrase "seems like an understanding person" is very telling, five episodes later. Tai also has the propensity to see life in black and white, especially when it comes to romance. His faith in soulmates is broken the moment he witnesses the end of a soulmate relationship. There is no room for explanation, as evidenced by his decision to ghost his soulmate for 2 years, and his coldness towards his mom, whom he has decided is the sole villain in their parents’ divorce. Simply put, he reads too much Nora Roberts (check out @syrena-del-mar’s excellent meta, La Pluie meets Nora Roberts).

Moving on to Patts. First off: no Patts hate is allowed in this house. I do not condone violence, but I also think the reasons behind the display of violence deserve to be talked about without the air of dismissal surrounding it (@shortpplfedup backs me up on this, here).

Patts had been understanding of two years of silence from Tai, and had been incredibly patient while working and finding solutions to Tai's fears around relationships and commitment. All the emotional labor in this relationship had been done by Patts, he verbalizes his desires and thoughts every time and is often left hanging by Tai, in silence. After Patts and Tai’s (supposed) heart-to-heart in Doi Mae Pliang (shout out to @indigostarfire and @lurkingshan for the incredible observation that Tai chose not to verbalize his answer to Patts’ question "Do you want to be my faen?", here and here), Patts must’ve felt that they are finally on solid ground, after years of uncertainty.

When Tai lied and hid his plans with Lomfon at the park, Patts must’ve felt devastated. And when he saw Lomfon kiss Tai, he finally snapped. He took out his anger on Lomfon, but as @bengiyo observed, Patts still managed to not leave a single bruise on Lomfon. His restraint is a sign that his frustration is not directed at Lomfon, but at Tai. Patts’ anger and Tai’s refusal to communicate openly escalate the fight further and further, until all the tension breaks at Tai’s room, with Patts agreeing to break up.

Something that stood out to me in this conflict is that the escalations were so well written that they did not feel like they were being done just for the sake of moving the plot along. Every question thrown at each other’s faces and every furious answer spit out in response felt natural and fluid. When Patts shows up at Tai’s door, he is not there with the intention of picking the fight back up. The first thing Tai asks Patts is, "Are you drunk?" and Patts tells him that he is not. They both know and understand how horribly this can go if one of them loses control. When Patts asks him "You still love me, don’t you?", Tai infuriatingly responds "This is exactly why I don’t want to talk to you".

And we see Patts getting angry at his response, shouting this:

To which Tai responds with this:

Tai did not utter those words to aggravate Patts. He truly believes that in an ideal, happy relationship, the couple must be completely compatible, so totally in sync that they will know all the answers to the questions that didn’t even need to be asked. Tai stumbled into a clear understanding of the Patts-Nara mess in episode 8 and told Patts that he was not mad about it. He did not ask questions or demand answers from Patts. Sometime during his deadly trek up Doi Mae Pliang, Tai decides that their love is enough to conquer whatever the universe throws at them. Not understanding, not communication, but love. That’s why Tai shuts down every time Patts demands an explanation; he thinks needing one means that Patts does not love him "the right way". And when Patts finally blurts out "Let’s breakup", we see him immediately absorb the weight of those words and backtrack. But for Tai, this is the final proof he needed to confirm that Patts is not right for him. So, he thanks Patts for the time they shared together and shuts the door in his face.

I sincerely hope Patts holds his ground and does not apologize unnecessarily to Tai. Tai is 100% in the wrong here; he needs a stern talking-to from someone who understands both Tai and how love and relationships actually work (my money is on Tai’s dad), and then he needs to do some very difficult but necessary introspection about his understanding of love. When he is finally done and realizes that he has made a massive mistake, I hope that Tai is the one who seeks out Patts to reconcile.

And finally, the messiest mess of the Core Four…

Lomfon:

Sigh. Oh Lomfon, you fucking disaster. I’ve been wary of you, I’ve been fascinated by you, and now I want to buy a ladder so I can climb on it and ring your head like a fucking bell till you forget the “How to acquire Tai in ten easy steps” list you have in your head.

There is no question in my mind that Lomfon fucked up spectacularly. He orchestrated a date with a man who was already taken, proceeded to reveal the truth about his soulmate connection in the most dramatic and emotionally destabilizing way possible, and then kissed him. And he does all this in the midst of developing feelings for this man’s brother.

Folks, I now have a confession to make. The nearly 2k words I had put before this section were to gently lure you into an "In defense of Lomfon" post.

The two major criticisms I’ve seen so far that are leveled against him are that he has disregarded Tien’s feelings and that he has been grossly manipulative in how he chose to reveal his soulmate connection to Tai. I will try to tackle both of them with an objective lens. My goal here is not to pose an explanation or argument for every shitty thing Lomfon has ever done in the show; it is just to present Lomfon’s traits, stripped from the (rightful) anger the fandom feels after the events of episode 10, so I can understand and accept the redemption the show might give him in the coming week.

Before I get into the specifics of the defense, I want to focus on the Keychain Acquisition scene we finally got in this episode. We see Tai run after his dad, and Tai suddenly notices Lomfon, who is focused on the papers in his hand and wearing headphones, about to walk into a busy street. He rushes to push Lomfon out of the way, tells him to be careful, and then runs after his dad again. From the moment Tai touches Lomfon, to the moment Lomfon looks up only to see Tai running back, this whole interaction takes about fifteen seconds. I counted them. Fifteen seconds.

When we watched this scene, @lurkingshan and I could not believe how absurdly mundane it was. The show has been teasing a connection between Tai and Lomfon for weeks, and this is it? Tai pushed him out of the way of a moving car and shouted an obligatory "be careful, it’s dangerous" in Lomfon’s general direction before going back to his own problems. But that’s all it took for Lomfon to decide that this mystery stranger is his "first love". He did not even get a proper glimpse of Tai because, by the time he looked up, Tai was already running. I wonder how much of Tai’s voice he actually registered, given the fact that he had to rip his earphones off first and that he was disoriented from being pushed to the ground.

I understand that teenagers have wild imaginations, but even for them, this is a level of delusion that is only achievable if any and all human contact is rare. I have held hands and gently pulled and pushed friends and family members out of the way countless times in my life while crossing a busy road. If Lomfon had saved the keychain as a reminder of the day he almost died before a kind stranger saved his life, this would be a completely different post. Since Lomfon attaches such an intense meaning to an event that is so commonplace (the showing-kindness-to-strangers part, not the almost getting-hit-by-a-car part), all this scene shows us is that Lomfon is utterly and pathetically lonely.

I’m not just reading this from the keychain scene. Since this show has some very clever writers, Lomfon’s "Social Loner" status is established from the very first episode. Before Tien meets Lomfon at the bookstore, we see Tien interact with his friends and his brother. In contrast to this, when we see Lomfon for the first time, he’s alone and is immediately picking a fight with Tien. Which leads to Lomfon meeting Tai for the very first time, and Tai intervening to break up the catfight. Tien even says this to Lomfon:

Remember when we were theorizing about Lomfon potentially knowing Tai before this incident, after the Keychain was introduced in episode 7? Because in episode 2, when he meets Tai at the coffee shop, he talks about Tai’s articles? And we were thinking, there’s no way he just stalked this person online after meeting him for about 2 minutes, just because he took his side. Nobody would be that obsessed, right? Right? Nope. This boy is really THAT obsessed, because he does not have a single friend who can take his side on a daily basis and normalize this experience for him.

With this information, some of Lomfon’s actions start making a little bit more sense, as his social isolation must make him very inept at reading normal social cues and emotions. He may fancy himself a logician, but he cannot factor feelings and emotions, his own or otherwise, into his calculations. I intentionally only used the word "obsession" when I talked about his feelings for Tai, because I know that he’s not pursuing Tai because he felt his heart flutter in his chest. He’s pursuing him because: 1. Tai took his side in the bookstore argument; 2. He then went home and stalked Tai on the internet and figured out that he’s a writer, which was interesting, because he likes... reading, I guess? (I’m feeling physical pain due to second-hand embarrassment from typing that sentence.) and 3. He found out that Tai has read some of his favorite books and figured that they must have the same passions and interests.

And here is my defense for the first criticism: When we consider just how little time he must’ve spent in his entire life, thinking about other people and their problems (because he must have the heartfelt and intimate connection it requires with only a rare few people), Lomfon does care for Tien. He held Tien back when he was recklessly rushing into a storm to save his brother. He calmed Tien down with very persuasive arguments that were both logical and empathetic. He respected Tien’s opinions enough to discuss the concept of soulmates with him twice (in episodes 7 and 10). During their discussion in episode 10, Tien tells him he doesn’t know whether he would choose his soulmate or someone he likes. After the scene, we see Lomfon sitting alone, ruminating on this thought for a few seconds. He asks his friend and possible crush for advice on what to do, and when he doesn’t get a concrete solution, he decides to give his way a try. And we see him make the call to invite Tien to lunch and a day at the park.

And what exactly was he trying to accomplish on this date, you may ask? Well, to paraphrase @bengiyo, he just wanted to run an experiment for "The Foot Pop" theory from The Princess Diaries. Matters of the heart are not something you can distil into equations. You either have to let the desire fully confront you, let it cloud your logical brain, and bravely let it guide you into your next steps. Or you can open up and be vulnerable about it with the people closest to you, ask for their opinions, and then take a decision that’s a bit more informed, yet firmly rooted in what you want based on what you feel. Both of these options are foreign to Lomfon. He has never solved problems this way, nor has he witnessed someone solving problems like this. So he recklessly kisses Tai, to prove to himself that all the calculations he had performed on his and Tai’s compatibility were right. He kisses Tai, and when he does not feel the butterflies, he pulls back, sees Tai’s stunned face, and immediately realizes that he has made a horrible, horrible mistake.

You know where he should’ve run the experiment, for better results? Riiiiiight here:

gif by the ever lovely @liyazaki

It could’ve been so simple and sweet. This loser just had to take the route that would cause the most damage.

Moving on to the second criticism that Lomfon is shady and manipulative in his actions in episode 10. I agree, he easily could’ve found a much less dramatic way to talk to Tai and Patts about this shared soulmate bond situation. But taking this straightforward route takes a lot of social courage and nuance, which Lomfon clearly does not have. If he and Patts had not been staring daggers since the moment they laid eyes on each other, the solution to their soulmate problem could’ve been calmly discussed at a table over breakfast. Since Lomfon decides to posture up to Patts as a romantic rival, with Patts already on edge about his intentions with Tai, Patts brusquely tells him to stay away from Tai. Which does not help matters one bit, and leads to Lomfon making all the wrong moves straight into disaster.

The biggest questions that were constantly in my head after this fiasco were "How the heck is Tien ever going to forgive him?". "Is a happily ever after even on the cards for Lomfon and Tien?". "Will it be believable and realistic if the writers give us one?".

I do not want to speculate on how the writers may choose to end this arc, because I want to ponder these questions purely based on what we know so far, without an ending of my choice already in my head, so I don’t skew my arguments to fit.

Lomfon may believe that Tai is the one who is most compatible with him, but he could not be more wrong. We have not seen any interactions between them where their personalities complement each other. We only see Tai in these interactions through Lomfon’s obsessive lens. But on the flip side, we see that Tien is rational and emotionally mature enough to give Lomfon an honest chance to explain himself and apologize. If Lomfon takes the time to look inward and understand his feelings for Tien, he will then convey them with sharp focus, and without any ambiguity. Because, let’s be honest, Lomfon is many things, but he is definitely not the type to prattle. And for Tien, who is also a straightforward and no-nonsense communicator, this approach might be the first step towards understanding and eventually forgiving Lomfon.

I know that I am skirting around a lot of Lomfon’s major fuckups on this road to redemption, but as I stated before, I’m not here to explain away all of his mistakes. I know Lomfon has some serious introspection and atonement in front of him. The only way he can ever hope for forgiveness is if he goes into this journey without hoping to be forgiven. He has to do it for the people that he has hurt, with no expectations in return.

Lomfon is not irredeemable. Does he deserve all the hate he is currently getting from the fandom? Yes. Did he deserve the ass-whooping? Hell yes. Will he also be worthy of Tien’s (and our) forgiveness if and when he reevaluates all of his actions and apologizes to him? Absolutely.

Shoutout to @lurkingshan, @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup, @wen-kexing-apologist, @ginnymoonbeam and @kyr-kun-chan for discussing their La Pluie thoughts and opinions with me, which helped coalesce my thoughts into this post.

Tagging @blmpff on request

[yergink]

Ficlet prompts!

Any off screen moment from s1, where ed is down bad and stede is adorable. Bonus if the crew are like 👀

Modern meet cute at a dog park

Innkeeper era - talking about Stede's kids, or any Stepdad Ed

I have read so many "Mary learns that Ed is Blackbeard" and I would read another, if that sounds fun!

HI THANKS SO MUCH!! I'm a sucker for dad Stede moments, so I had to go with talking about his kids <3

(also this got. longer than i anticipated. whoops.)

Ed always knows when a storm’s coming on by the pinch of his knee. And he knows when Stede’s got something serious on the mind by the—much sweeter—pinch of his brow.

He’s been wearing that look since breakfast and been distant all morning. Floaty, sort of. And quiet.

The question sits fully formed on Ed’s tongue, but he holds it back. Prying Stede for his feelings requires a certain degree of tact, and Ed isn’t history’s greatest tactician for nothing.

Unfortunately, love is often the opposite of tact. It’s blind and stupid and reckless.

They’re sharing an afternoon snack of shortbread cookies—just a little overdone, which neither of them mind too much—when that faraway look crosses Stede’s face again, and Ed simply can’t help himself any longer.

“What’s wrong?”

Stede startles, like he hadn’t at all expected the question.

“Hm?” he answers. There are shortbread crumbs stuck on the corner of his mouth. Ed reaches out to thumb them away.

“You seem distracted,” he says. “Something up?”

A moment passes where Ed thinks he’s gotten the timing wrong. He was too abrupt, and now Stede is going to give him one of his too-strained smiles and insist that he’s fine, and Ed’s not gonna be able to work up the courage to ask him again.

His heart leaps into his throat. Ed swallows around it.

Stede, for his part, doesn’t play that song-and-dance. Instead, he sighs. His wistful gaze turns to the window, and his eyes turn chestnut-light where the sunstream catches them.

“It’s Alma’s birthday today,” he says.

Ed stares at him blankly.

“My daughter.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Shit,” Stede agrees.

“…So, are you, um. Feeling some kinda way about it?” Ed asks him tentatively.

Stede shrugs a sort of shrug that means "yes, absolutely, but I don't want to admit it," and for Ed, that won't do.

He reaches for Stede's hand, the cookies abandoned for the moment. “Do you wanna try to figure it out together?”

Stede’s fingers latch into Ed’s tight before he jerks his head in a nod.

"Okay." Ed takes a long inhale, pleased to see Stede follow his example. "What do you feel?"

"Mm. A sort of—" Stede lifts his free hand and gestures in a circle to his chest. "A… hollowness. Like a hole. But it's heavy, too. A heavy hole."

"...What's that, a riddle or something? What thing is empty but still weighs a ton?"

"Could be." Stede's frown turns thoughtful. "I think the answer would be a lead bucket."

"That's fuckin’ brilliant."

“Doesn’t make much sense though, does it? Feeling like a lead bucket?”

Ed doesn’t think so. He’s had the same feeling, a hollow weight that ached through his chest and down in his belly.

“I think maybe you miss your kid,” Ed tells him. “That’s all.”

“…I do miss them,” Stede says quietly. “Both of them. And I know that they’re being well taken care of, and that I left on good terms, but…” he trails off.

“You don't talk about them much.”

“The topic’s never been relevant.”

“Oh, shut up, man. If it’s bothering you, it’s relevant. They’re your kids. Little itty-bitty Stedes running around. You think I don’t wanna hear about them?”

“…You didn’t want to hear about Mary.”

“Okay, but you see how that’s different, yeah?”

“And honestly, neither of them are much like me at all.” He lowers his voice. “Actually, now that I think about it, I suspect Louis wasn't even mine to begin with.”

Ed hums. “You know you are allowed to talk about them, if you want.”

“…I might. Want. Just a little.”

A quiet moment passes. Stede’s gaze flicks from the window to Ed’s face, and Ed raises his eyebrows at him meaningfully.

"Louis is a sweet boy, I think,” Stede says, looking back towards the window. "He doesn't pull the legs off flies, and he doesn't throw rocks at the other children. He's...Gosh, he must be six years old, now.

Ed's not an expert, but other than the bit about his age, those seem like odd things to notice about your kid.

“And Alma is…” Stede starts. “Well, she’s very independent, for one. And she’s—brave. Braver than I ever was at her age. Er, that’ll be twelve, today. She’s always speaking what’s on her mind, whether it’s a polite sentiment or not.”

He smiles at some private memory. “She’d get in trouble with the nursemaid often, with that feisty tongue of hers.”

“She sounds a lot like you.”

Stede laughs. “Silly man. Come on.”

“I'm serious. Feisty? Bit of a menace?”

“Oh, well…”

“All things I love about you,” Ed promises, with a kiss for good measure.

Stede kisses him back, of course, and they get lost in it for a moment, arms wrapping around each other, eyes closed, together.

Stede's stay shut for a beat longer than Ed’s, and when he opens them again, his face is a little sad.

“It's no wonder she was always testing Mary’s nerves so badly,” he says with a little huff that might've been a laugh if it hadn't been so damn sad.

Ed’s heart thumps hard in sympathy. He reaches to cup a palm gingerly over Stede’s cheek, swiping his thumb over into the soft hair at Stede's temple. “Hey. If you're thinking of them today, I bet they're thinking about you."

“D'you really?" Stede asks in a small voice, audibly uncertain in a way he so seldom is.

It's Ed's cue to be certain, then, to be firm and sure in this moment when Stede cannot muster himself to be.

"I know," he says. "I was missing you when you were gone, too."

"Oh, Ed—”

“So,” Ed continues, "if you can't be there, maybe you can send them a letter? Though might be best to skip the bottle this time.”

He tries not to linger on Stede’s dewy eyes, doesn’t want to bring attention to how delicate he seems right then, but he also can’t help but notice the telling glint that crosses his gaze.

“You just had an idea, did you?”

“I won’t do it if you say no,” Stede says slowly, “ But…how would you feel if I asked all of them to come stay a few days?”

Ed shifts. Unconsciously, his grip on Stede’s hand tightens a smidge in anxiety. “That, um. I dunno. Won't it be weird? Having your ex-wife in the same house as…”

“As my lovely boyfriend?” Stede fills in for him, and Ed imagines his heart trilling like a songbird. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing Stede call him that.

“Yeah.”

“It probably will be a bit weird,” Stede admits. “And I won't push if the idea makes you uncomfortable. But I think—” he pauses.

"I want to get to know them better,” he says firmly. “And I—I'd like them to get to know you, too. To see how happy you make me.”

Oh. Stede wants his kids to see him happy—to know he's happy. And to see that that happiness is because of Ed. That Ed’s the one who makes him happy.

It’s like all the light in the world goes softer, then. Sweeter.

Ed murmurs, “I think I like that idea, too,” before kissing him again, all the while thinking happy, happy happy.