#(i love him your honor it's not a phase)

[cowboylikemorgan]

BREAKING: Geode has arrived at the Met Gala

[sapphicqueen]

His damn smile

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Can you write a fanfiction/bullet points or whatever makes you comfortable of Comte comforting a crying female MC? Thank you for your time. 💙☔️

This one is a bit (a lot 🤡) late, but hopefully it still brings some belated comfort to a wounded heart. Take care!! 💜

For whatever reason anything I write for Ikevamp always becomes half found family trope hours, so please pardon the wayward premise--

Below a cut because it's long!

When I hadn't emerged from my room before noon, Sebastian knocked--three quick raps--against my door. 

I sat up in bed, setting my book aside. I'd done the bare minimum by then, thankfully: washed my face, made my bed, dressed in a nightgown with an appropriate robe for company. It was about all I could manage before deflating into a lethargic heap.

“Meli?” Curious slate eyes searched for me.

“Present,” I raised my hand, grinning sheepishly.

“Are you all right?” 

Did I look pale? My head was killing me. And it was nothing compared to the ache from the waist down.

“In a manner of speaking,” I grimaced, “I’m sorry I was MIA all morning, I’m really not feeling well.”

He marched out and returned with a First Aid kit, and I gestured with flustered hands to stop him. “Whoa whoa, not quite like that. You don’t need to bring that weapon in here.”

One sharp eyebrow arched, side eyeing me dubiously. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“Phrasing,” I scrunched my features, before sighing. “It’s uh…a particularly female problem, if you catch my drift.”

He looked like he was about to say something smart again, until understanding dawned on his face. “Oh.”

“Yeah…I’ll keep the gruesome details to myself. Could I trouble you for some soup, though? I don't think I can keep much else down.”

He smiled, closing the First Aid kit with a crisp flip of the latch. “You’ll owe me one.”

“You can lord it over me as much as you want when I don’t feel like I’m about to snap in two.”

He frowned, skeptical again. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“Oh don’t worry, every so often this stupid thing clocks me out mercilessly. It never lasts, it just sucks for the first few days.” I waved him away.

He nodded then, and I hoped the passé inflection would be enough to ease his mind.

What I didn’t expect was the entire rest of the afternoon.

“Meli?” A muffled voice came from the other side of my door about an hour later. 

Was that? “Vincent?”

“May I come in?”

“Of course,” I laughed a little at how cautious he sounded, as if Vincent could be a bother to anyone.

White blonde hair poked past the threshold, wide eyes taking me in. I laughed again, unable to help myself. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m not contagious.”

His smile waned, but he stepped inside and approached the foot of the bed. “That’s not what I’m worried about. How are you feeling?”

I couldn’t help the way my features softened. There were so few people I had ever met with such a pure heart, but sometimes it worried me. He should look after himself more. “Just fine,” I smiled easily, patting the bed to let him know he could sit if he wanted. “Is something on your mind?”

A little color found his cheeks and he shook his head, “Mm-mm, I’m glad to see you’re doing okay. I’m heading out to town today with Theo to explore some prospective venues for art displays. Would you like us to bring anything back for you?”

I was…frankly a little shocked that he thought of me. “Sure,” I grinned, “An invitation, when you’ve finalized the time and place.”

He gazed at me intently, before resolve made that baby face solidify with determination. “I promise.” He nodded once, firm.

“Even when you’re sick, you’re the only person in this house who knows how to appreciate real talent.” Theo swaggered in as if we’d conjured him by the mere mention of the display. “This is all it takes to keep you down and out, hondje?”

“Remind me to sucker punch you when I’m better.”

“I’m busy enlightening the world about the greatest artist who ever lived, remember it yourself.”

“Dat is genoeg, Theo,” Vincent glanced at him, and it made Theo sulk and look away.

I giggled, unable to help it. “Don’t worry, Vincent, I’m happy you both stopped by. Don’t let me keep you from your errands today.”

Vincent seemed to hesitate, and it was at that moment when Dazai walked right through the open door with an apologetic Napoleon behind him.

“I tried to stop him, but he was surprisingly adamant about bringing it over himself. Sebastian gave him an earful,” Napoleon snickered, “How are you holding up, noyer?”

“Like I’m going to throw up all over him,” I couldn’t help myself as they all looked at me with wide eyes, but the exaggeration didn’t fool Dazai. He continued on, unperturbed as always when he was marching to his own drum.

Everybody chuckled when they realized I was just trying to deter his enthusiasm.

“Open wide, Toshiko-chan,” Dazai crooned, trying to guide a spoonful of soup to my lips. “Say ahh--”

Theo had him in a headlock in the next few seconds, scowling fiercely. “Give it a rest, dwaas, she’s not an invalid.”

Theo hoisted him away and waved, and Dazai surprisingly left without a fuss as Vincent scolded his brother for resorting to physicalities. 

“He wasn’t the only one worried, you know,” Napoleon remarked, voice much quieter than usual--and I sensed it was because he was revealing some poorly guarded secrets. 

“Ah, I’d visit them both if I could, but I’m afraid I’m a bit compromised at the minute.”

Napoleon seemed shocked to hear this bit of news, alarm clear as he approached me and looked for the signs of harm. I suppose Sebastian didn’t go into the gory details, for once. “What…?”

I smiled broadly, “Don’t worry, I’ll be right as rain soon--enough to spar with you without a problem.”

The confidence in my expression seemed to put him at ease somewhat, retreating back an appropriate distance. “Shall I extend the good tidings, then?”

“Of course, and tell Jeanne I expect to see entries in his diary regardless of whether or not I can teach him right now.”

Napoleon shook his head, and when I shot him a curious look he just shrugged, throwing his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Worry about yourself for the moment, noyer.”

I nodded solemnly, mock saluting, “Yes, monsieur, your will be done.”

“Well it’s good to see you have enough energy to joke, at least,” He crossed his arms, gesturing with his chin to the soup that was now at a proper temperature to consume. “Now eat before it gets cold.”

“The general,” I moaned with exaggerated woe as I reached for the bowl, “He’s relentless these days. Do you have any idea the last time I got to--”

“It’s a shame Shakespeare doesn’t have you perform for his little shows,” Napoleon was equal parts amused and exasperated as he moved to the door, “I never thought I’d meet somebody with more latent drama in their heart.”

“You really mean it?” I blinked rapidly and made doe eyes at him, and he rolled his in return.

“Get some rest, nunuche.”

When the door finally shut again I closed my eyes, willing the dull throb in my head to ease off. I tried to focus on the soup, hoping it would help me relax. It was only then that I noticed Sebastian had served it with a cold glass of oolong, and I sighed, suddenly grateful for his powers of observation. Hopefully it would help keep the food down--I didn’t want to throw up for real.

I took my time, eating slowly to thwart the nausea and stared at the ceiling. I wasn’t really expecting everyone to trickle in like that, but it was…a nice change. Back home, nobody ever knew I was sick because I didn’t tell them. I needed to work; there had been no time for rest and no safe haven to heal. I considered that for a moment, that for once I didn’t feel I had to push myself to my limits to deserve some respite. 

The empty bowl stared back at me as I finished the last spoonful, the gold flowers inlaid in the china a reminder; it seemed I had yet more to thank him for.

I was braiding my hair absently--marveling that it was long enough for that now--when a single knock sounded, more wooden even than the door. 

I found myself grinning before I could help it, “Come on in, Jeanne.” Wiry and lean, he marched inside and crossed over to my bedside, Mozart on his heels--though he looked cautious. I smiled wryly, “And welcome, Mozart. Don’t worry, I won’t get you sick--I promise.”

“As if anybody cares about that,” he sniffed, though I could see his shoulders visibly lower and I withheld laughter. 

Jeanne got up close, examining me with eyes that missed nothing. “You look pale, mademoiselle.”

“At ease, soldat. It’s an old fight, I’ll be just fine.” 

I was glad for the bravado, since it felt like my uterus was ready to pop right out of my abdomen, my entire lower half swollen.

“I still expect you to study while I’m recuperating,” I tapped his nose with the tip of my finger, and he leaned back as if he only just noticed how close he was.

Mozart sighed, “See? I told you she’d be fine. She even has enough energy to play school mistress.”

“I could play it with you too, Mozart.” I raised my brows, glancing at him. 

He threw me a disgusted look, “Don’t be ridiculous. Only you two would do something so outlandish.”

Jeanne looked unable to follow, “But Arthur said that a woman who teaches you your letters is your mistress.”

Mozart and I grimaced, in agreement here. 

“Don’t listen to Arthur.”

“Forget everything he says, in one ear out the other.”

“But…”

“Don’t forget about the shop, Jeanne, we were just stopping by.”

Jeanne’s violet eye widened, “Ah, that’s right. Be strong, mademoiselle.”

“You won’t be getting rid of me that easily.”

Mozart smirked, “Don’t we know it.”

“I’m perfectly well enough to get feathers in your hair, you silly little composer.” I lifted the pillow beside me and mimed chucking it at him.

I was stunned to see Mozart stick his pink tongue out at me, smiling as he followed Jeanne out the door.

“That wasn’t a very nice thing to say, Mozart.” I could hear Jeanne’s muffled disapproval. 

“She knows better than to believe something like that anyway.”

Warmth overflowed in my heart, and when I glanced over at my bedside table I was shocked to see that it was nearly evening; I likely had all the visits to thank for time passing so quickly.

“You still alive in here, cara mia?” The giant Italian entered without preamble, a stark and frankly hilarious contrast to the nervous Isaac behind him. 

“For you? No.”

“You always knew how to break a man’s heart.” I closed my eyes as the smell of cigarillos reached me, the rich and smoky scent oddly comforting. If it wasn’t for the fact that it would be misconstrued, I resisted the urge to ask for a hug. He could make for a decent heat pad at his size. He sat mere inches from me unceremoniously--Leonardo was never one for personal space--leaning in and evaluating me with those amber eyes. The color always made me squirm a little, conjuring their parallel image in the house every time.

“We thought we’d bring you some cake,” it was only then that I noticed Isaac was carrying a tray, chocolate cheesecake drizzled with raspberry and coated in dark chocolate adornments. “We can’t take all the credit though, Vincent and Theo brought some for everyone.”

Trust Vincent to insist on a gesture like this. So that's what his determination had been about, finding a way to offer me something without fanfare. And, well, it was no secret I loved chocolate.

I kept my eyes on my lap, willing the slight film over my vision to dry and disappear. I knew Leonardo would never let me live it down if he noticed. That's probably why he came with Isaac in the first place.

I cleared my throat a little, "Thanks for bringing it all the way here, Isaac."

Isaac fiddled with his hair, tugging on the strands shyly. "D-don't worry about it. It's the least we could do, considering all you've done for us."

I accepted the tray and settled it in my lap, taking up the fork. "I can't eat it while you stare at me, Leo."

"Oh well."

"Correction, I won't eat it if you keep staring at me."

"I'm just enjoying the rare sight. House feels strange without you stomping and bustling around. The floorboards must be awfully lonely."

"You make me sound like an elephant."

"Well--"

"All right, come here so I can cough all over you--"

"But Sebastian already told us it wasn't contagious..." Isaac interjected.

"He lied," and I was about to continue when Isaac sighed.

It suddenly occurred to me that Sebastian probably sent Isaac along to make sure we didn't argue for the rest of the night.

"You two never change," his smile was conflicted, but fond.

"Ah, sorry," I leaned back, trying to relax.

"Bickering is healthy where we come from," Leonardo guffawed.

"Oh dear, an oncoming sneeze--" I mimed reaching over to sully his sleeve.

They both lingered a little as I finished my slice, making small talk until they seemed to silently agree to let me rest and take back both trays to the kitchen. I figured I'd be turning in for the night shortly after when I heard rapid footsteps crossing the hall about an hour later. It was nearly nine o'clock, who…?

"Meli?" 

I knew that baritone anywhere, though there was an atypical urgency to his murmur.

"Come in, Comte."

There was a gust of air as the door twisted open, gold eyes zeroing in on the source of my voice. When they landed on me there was alarm clear in every line of his body, and he seemed to take a deep breath. He smiled, but something about it was wan--it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Bad day?" I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him so wrung out as he made his way over to me.

He averted his gaze to my bedside table, "Something like that." He shook his head before reaching a hand up to my forehead. 

I bit the inside of my lip to keep from leaning in, the heady scent of him distracting. All of a sudden I felt like a little kid with my favorite stuffed animal again; I just wanted to curl up against him and close my eyes.

I laughed awkwardly, "Did, um, Sebastian not tell you?"

He seemed genuinely confused. "Tell me?"

"It's ah, not exactly an 'illness', per say…"

"Then what…?"

I glanced at my lap, then looked away. 

"Oh. Oh, I see," he hefted the chair against the wall and placed it next to the bed, unhooking his tie and rubbing a thumb under his jaw. "Well that's a relief."

"That makes one of us," I grinned, unable to help myself.

I wondered if I looked as sparkly as I felt when he finally managed a small smile.

"Did you just get home?"

"I'm afraid so, I was a bit buried in meetings and errands today."

Not surprising, he had been rather busy of late. "And you raced over here? Don't be silly, you should go to your own room and rest. I've been well tended to, I promise."

There was something akin to a dry smirk on his face, and it was puzzling enough to give me pause. What did that look mean?

"Everyone’s so demoralized it nearly frightened a century of life out of me," he admitted and laughed in earnest, taking one of my hands in his own gently. Color stained my cheeks, and I cursed how it gave me away. “I had to come see for myself.”

"Drama queens," I muttered, mortified. I willed my palms not to sweat and embarrass me even further.

"It just goes to show how much they care about you," Comte offered me a pearly grin, and I couldn't manage to meet his eyes. So much for the headache going away, I could practically hear a pulse in my head just trying to make eye contact with him. "The house doesn't feel quite right without you." 

Throughout the day I'd been wracking my brain to figure out what their little visits reminded me of, and in that split second it hit me like a train. Oh my god…they were like a bunch of children worried about their sick mother. Bringing trinkets and food, looking for any opportunity to help. Even Vincent perfectly fit the role of the oldest independent son, all insistence on being the adult for the day.

I squeezed his fingers just enough to convey my meaning. "They're very sweet," I bit my tongue against the rest. Wonder where they could have gotten that from. “But really, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Comte was unmoved. Did I really look that bad? His eyes sought out mine, gazing for a long moment. Instinctively I knew he was looking for something there, and if I looked away it would only make him more anxious--but it also made me so self-conscious. 

“What can I do?” 

His quiet voice, imploring all of a sudden, startled me. “Huh?”

“Everybody seems to have beaten me to the punch today,” there was a rueful touch to his smile that I didn’t quite understand. Almost…bitter? “Anything that would make you feel better, it’s yours.”

“You don’t have to--” I hedged, embarrassed.

“I insist.” He was smiling, but I knew that tone. There was no brooking argument when he got like this.

“Can I have a moment to think? Nothing really comes to mind immediately.”

This seemed to pacify him, and he leaned back to grab his long coat, folding it over and placing it on my lap over the blankets. I smoothed the fabric over with my hands, thumbing the collar absently. What was it about everything he did that conveyed so much warmth? Like my very heart was being enfolded in care and affection. I stared at it as he poked around the book on my bedside table, content to be awash in his colors. Despite feeling terrible and exhausted beyond belief, something inside me started to unravel and relax.

When I noticed him out of my peripheral vision, I suddenly knew what I wanted to ask.

My fingers curled around the bed spread, not wanting to wrinkle his nice coat. “I think I know what I want to ask now.”

“Oh?” he looked over, setting the book aside. He gave me his full attention, and I hoped he would attribute the blush that crept into my face from the scrutiny to illness. “Let’s hear it.”

“Would you read to me? Just for a little while. And only if you want to.” The words came out haltingly, and I already regretted that I’d spoken them aloud. Christ I felt so childish, surely he would think I was ridiculous. 

There was a moment of silence, as I contemplated crawling into a hole to waste away in peace. This is exactly why periods were evil. They made me reveal things that I wouldn’t have said at gunpoint.

“...What would you like me to read?”

He was serious, expression inquisitive. I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

I hugged the pillow next to me for courage, refusing to meet his eyes. “...Would it be too childish to ask for a fairy tale?”

“Any particular one in mind?”

“...Rapunzel, if we have it.”

He nodded, “Rapunzel it is. I’ll be back shortly.”

When he was out the door on the hunt for a book of fairy tales, I shoved my face in the pillow and groaned. Well, so much for living that one down. I’d be the gossip of the mansion for the next five years let alone weeks.

I fidgeted and tried to read what I already had with me, but the pages might as well have been in another language for all that I managed to retain. I’d been interested in learning about recovered knowledge and expertise that had been lost to the ages, scouring old texts for tidbits of information and wisdom. The notepad on my bedside attested to all the curiosities I’d gathered up to that point, but the thought that I was troubling Comte was enough to leave me unable to work anything out.

Mercifully, he had returned as promised without much delay, a book on fairy tales in tow as he closed the door gingerly. When I spied the name Grimm on the spine, I laughed a little. “Good to know it’ll be a version I recognize.”

He indulged me. “I’m just glad it wasn’t buried somewhere in that mess Leonardo calls a room.”

I snickered at the jab as he removed the jacket of his suit, leaving him in his waistcoat and dress shirt. I pretended I hadn’t noticed, waiting patiently for him to start. I forgot that Sebastian had left a pitcher of water behind after he shooed Leonardo and Isaac out of the room, and I gestured to the desk across from him.

“Seb left me some water, but please help yourself.”

He poured a glass before settling in earnest, rolling his shoulders. I glanced here and there to gauge his disposition, a little perplexed. He didn’t look like he was waiting for the moment he could slip away, he looked prepared to spend the better part of the night. Surely he wouldn’t, he had more important things to attend to than me and he’d barely gotten any rest.

“Ready?” He looked to me, waiting.

I sat up straighter, “Go for it,” I prompted.

Though we started there, he ended up reading several since they were pretty short--expectation in his eyes when he looked up from the book to flip to the next one. I got caught up in his momentum all too easily, his even voice more soothing than I cared to admit. Or maybe it was the fact that I could tell he didn’t begrudge me this, or seemed to think it was silly. I was lulled and warm and comforted, which was more than I could say in nearly three decades of life. I tried to remember every little detail of the moment; the soft light of the lamps, the warmth of his coat, the gentle scent of him, the balm of his voice. Something to keep close to my heart when I’d be forced to leave his side someday and return to my own time like the stranger I was.

Tears burned in my eyes, baffling me. I swallowed thickly, and took a deep breath as surreptitiously as possible. I didn’t want to ruin this balance between us, this closely guarded secret of mine wasn’t worth making him dread coming home every day.

When we’d gone through all the ones I liked, he closed the book and set it on the bedside table. He was pensive, rubbing his palms together absently. I knew that look, so I spoke first.

“You can ask whatever it is you’re wondering,” I laughed, “I don’t mind.”

He seemed a little surprised that I’d noticed, before leaning back in his chair. “I guess I was wondering why you chose fairy tales, of all things. I did say anything you wanted.”

I covered my face with my hands, “Yeah, I know it was childish. Sorry.”

Patient hands drew mine away from my face, “That’s not what I meant.”

I shot him a dour look. "Jewelry is expensive. So are dresses."

"That's not what I meant either. Although that's an idea…"

I ignored his expectant look. “Oh,” I blinked, “Then what did you mean?"

“Why fairy tales?” His head tilted just so, trying to find answers in my impassive face as he gestured to the book on my bedside table.

“Well,” My eyes darted away, nervous. “It’s not really a short answer, and you’ve probably heard it before. I don’t want to bore you.”

“Would you tell me, all the same?”

Usually he’d be the type to change the subject and take the discordant note in stride, content to play smooth conversationalist. I wondered briefly what brought this on, but I didn’t have much time since he was looking for an answer. I tried to gather my thoughts.

“Fairy tales are the written--and in many cases--oral manifestations of human feeling and imagination.” I sat up a little, “They were told by the fireside, in sewing circles, to children who asked too many questions, whether appropriate or inopportune.” I gazed at the back of my hands, the faded burn that marred my left one. There was more grief in my smile than I would have liked, but I was too tired to entirely disguise what I was feeling. “Happy endings are afforded in situations where they seem unlikely and impossible. Justice exists and culls the selfishness of others. In some ways, they are time capsules of hope; buried, only to be found again by the weary in similar situations of entrapment or despair.”

“Sometimes they feel like a hand reached out across the ages, promising that we aren’t alone, not really. I guess it’s a nice feeling, to know that I’m not the only one who likes to dream.” 

It was only when I realized that the outline of his coat in my lap was indistinguishable, voice wobbly, that I scrubbed at my eyes with my sleeve. Stupid, I always spoke too much around him. He was quiet and still for a long time.

“But then, I have a bad habit of wanting things to make sense more than I probably should.” I shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. “They’re just stories, at the end of the day. Just a way to keep the mind occupied.”

He took the book back into his hands, gazing at it with different eyes. “I think that’s a beautiful way to think about it,” His fingers traced the embellished cover, still shining nearly a hundred years since it was published. "And very like you.”

“W-well, it’s just one way to think about it. Most people would probably say it’s a stretch.”

“I don’t think it is.” Even though I couldn’t meet his gaze, somehow I could tell his eyes were tender as they lingered on me. I was just relieved for the lack of disgust.

After that he stood up, gathering his suit jacket over his arm. “I suppose it’s time we allowed you to get some proper rest,” he leaned over to brush a kiss against my forehead. “I’ll make sure everyone keeps out until you’re feeling well, other than Sebastian. They don’t seem to be able to help themselves.”

I was entirely distracted by that split second of warmth against my forehead, lamenting how quickly it faded. Joy bubbled up in an endless cascade, and I tried to conceal how sated and giddy I felt on the inside. He was halfway across the room before I could manage to speak again.

“I was pretty surprised, I was so sure the sound of plague would send Mozart running for the hills.”

“I can think of very little that would keep us away, plague or not.” He chuckled, and shook his head as he reached for the door handle. “Rest well, Meli.”

“Good night, Comte.”

I was so lovestruck I didn’t notice he’d left his long coat behind, with me. I brushed my teeth and turned out the lights, pretending to get ready for bed--but really, I wanted enough time to pass to know for certain that he wasn’t coming back for it. Content to know it was mine for the night, I hugged the folded parcel close to my chest, sighing. If being by his side was out of my reach, then it was enough to know he cared.

[ethereal-feline]

"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry!"

[kakusu-shipping]

Pre-relationship 4-6 for the Mario Bros.! (Or your favorite of those questions if you only want one haha)

Yes!!! More Mario Bros ramble!!! Blessed!! Thankyou!!

4. Who felt romantic feelings first?

Hard to say, sense they've always been like this. There's not a specific moment either of them could go back to and say when they fell in love, they've always loved eachother, you know?

Though Luigi was the first to recognize these feelings as romantic, and different than how he loved, say, their mom and dad, and that that was something important. Mario didn't think it mattered what kind of love they had, their mama had taught them Love is Love, so what does it matter, right?

This happened when they were like 7.

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Maybe not quiet resist, but Mario did consider it for a while.

Around middle school-ish age, 12 or 13, their mom sat the brothers down to explain the difference between Familial and Romantic love, and why that difference was important, kind of assuming they didn't really know the difference in their emotions yet.

The whole thing made Mario feel awful. He'd made his mother worry, his father angry, and worst of all he, the older brother, put Luigi on the line for his own selfish reasoning.

The only reason he didn't fully withdrawal from Luigi and stew in an early sea of self deprecation was Luigi rubbing it in Mario's face that he was right, that the love he has for Mario and the love he has for the rest of their family is different. He did an "I Told You So" dance and everything. He was right and Mario was wrong ha ha ha ha ha!

So yeah. Mario considered resisting his feelings for all of about 20 minutes before Luigi snapped him out of it, and reminded him why that would simply never work. Not for them.

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Mario doesn't believe in soulmates, he's a simple guy and not all that romantic in the grand scheme sense. Luigi on the other hand is all about Cosmic Connection and the "Over and Over again, life after life, I will find you, and I fall in love with you again and again" kind of cheesy nonsense. He'd be over the moon about it.

[uponasoapboxb]

i love looking through my ao3 bookmarks and seeing the timeline of all the characters that i’ve read fanfictions about. it’s like playing the “just how Unwell was i during this part of my life?” game

anyway: currently in my tasm! peter parker phase

[majorxmaggiexboy]

is he, you know...*lends a comedy because you could use a laugh on your 50 miles* 

[imaginestuffs]

phases- Tyler Owens x F!Reader

Word count:3,721

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

Summary: Reader thinks over moments in her relationship with Tyler. All the good, and of course the bad.

A/N: I don't usually put an author's note, but I thought I should this time. This isn't my best writing honestly. I wrote this on my phone on a long drive. It all just kind of spilled out of my brain, and I liked it, but it's kind of all over the place. So, if you're willing to ignore some flaws, and bear with me I thank you!

(gif not mine)

You never knew what it meant to love and be loved; by the one person you had waited for your whole life. 

The moment you met Tyler your life changed, your perspective was altered, so much so that you couldn't remember what it was before him. 

Every shade of sky, every mood, you had experienced with him—frustration, fury, embarrassment, love, admiration, and best of all acceptance. 

Through him, came your found family. The group of people you had the pride and honor of knowing and loving. Just being with them gave you a sense of freedom, respect for the unknown, and an acceptance of what's to come. No matter the difficulty you'd have them to pull you through. 

Before you met Tyler, you feared the storms, it didn't matter how many you weathered. The chance they could take everything from you in seconds was terrifying to you. 

He held you through the night. being your shelter for as many storms that made you tremble, and grip him tighter than you ever had. 

---

Your fear of storms originated when you were a little girl. You could remember the sirens going off and having to hide in your basement. You weren't able to get outside in time to get to the shelter. So your father rushed you into the basement. it was completely dark as your father guided you to the pipes he knew were in the corner of the pitch-black room. 

He instructed you to wrap your arms around them, and no matter what happened not to let go. 

You weren’t sure how long you were down there. But every slam against the house rang in your ears. Each creak of the foundation caused a jolt of fear to course through you. 

You could hear the raging wind decimating everything in its path. You knew that so much that you loved would be swept away. The town you grew up in would be devastated, it would never be the same. 

When everything went completely still, no wind could be heard, and all things seemed to have stood still, your father gently pried your hands from the piping. 

Your hands shook from how hard your grip was. Even now, they still shake during storms.

You hadn’t told Tyler about what happened when you were a little girl. Thinking that if a storm came you would cover up your fear. He had told you that he was a storm chaser but you hadn’t gone on any chases with him. So he was never around for storms. 

But it seemed that wouldn’t be the case for this one. You saw the dark clouds looming in the distance and the air smelt of rain. You just knew there was no avoiding this. You’d just have to do your best to hide your fear. 

Tyler walked into the kitchen and saw you looking out the window. He padded across the floor to wrap his arms around your waist. 

You felt his arms twist around you and jumped. You heard Tyler chuckle and felt him press a kiss on your cheek. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you heard the smile in his voice. You forced a soft giggle and placed your hand over his. 

He could tell that something wasn’t right, there was no quip or witty response to him. You were tense, and he felt your hands shaking. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Tyler's breath warmed your cheek as he spoke to you. 

Your heart began to race, “Nothing. I’m-uh-I’m just fine. Are you excited for the storm?” you turn in his arms to face him. 

You reached your hands up to play with his hair and you felt the slightest bit of relief as he looked at you so softly. Yet you couldn’t stop the tremble in your hands. His hand moved a strand of hair from your face as he studied your behavior. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” his hand rested against your face and you leaned into his touch. You nodded at him, “I know Ty,” you assured him with a kiss on his palm. 

The first clap of thunder sounded and you yelped, your hands covered your face and you slightly shook. The sky sounded off again and instead of sliding to the floor, Tyler pulled you close. 

“C’mon (y/n), let's get to bed now huh?” his voice was calm. 

“You’re not mad at me?” Tyler could hear the nerves in the way you spoke. 

He took your chin between his pointer finger and thumb gently having you look at him. “I’m not mad at you, I could never be mad at you,” he nudged your nose with his. You smiled weakly, and he guided you up the stairs and to your bedroom. 

His shirt lay discarded on the floor along with your sweats. He knew you hated wearing too much to bed. You had always said it made you feel too closed in. So there you were lying next to him in one of his shirts and your favorite polka-dot underwear. 

He allowed you to wrap yourself around him and promised that he would show you there was nothing to be scared of when he was there.

The thunder rolled and lightning struck. Rain pelted the roof and windows. The wind blew and whistled through the old oak outside your window. 

Each boom caused you to shake. Every gust of wind and blinding flash, had your heart pounding against your ribs. 

But there he was, secure, steady, and warm. Whispering assurances in the dark. Holding you close, unwavering. 

Your face buried in the crook of his neck, and his hand warm and rough against your back. 

His lips soft against your hairline, "I've got you, sweetheart. Nothing's gonna hurt you." He breathed out. 

A particularly strong gust of wind rattled the window. You let out a cry and wrapped yourself around Tyler. 

He felt warm tears drip on his skin. He lightly tugged you away so he could see your face.

"Please don't, please don't let go," your voice broke. His heart ached at your plea. 

"I'm not going anywhere. Look at me," he said. Softly brushing a piece of hair from your face. 

You didn't budge. "(Y/n), baby, look at me. You've got nothing to be afraid of," he said and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

He gently did his best to coax you out of your hiding spot. 

"C'mon sweet girl, I've got you," he reminded you. Slowly but surely you shifted so you could look at him. 

He saw the tear stains on your cheeks and the fear in your (e/c) eyes. His gaze softened, and he leaned forward to kiss your red nose. 

"I'm sorry Ty," he heard your uneven breathing. 

He placed his hand on your cheek and rested his forehead against yours. His lips were just a whisper away. He placed a messy kiss on your mouth. Your breath hitched at the soft gesture. 

"You have no reason to be sorry," he mumbled before he pulled you back in for a real kiss. 

Albeit short, it was enough.

---

Now after 2 years of being with him, your fears lessened. Still, there were times you got scared, but with his hand in yours you never felt safer. Even when you weren't in the truck with Tyler. Dexter and Dani would have an arm around your shoulder. They knew watching the live streams made you nervous. 

You’d always cheer and celebrate but once the sky cleared you let out the breath you were holding.

---

You stood next to Dani who had their arm secure around your shoulders. 

You saw Tyler, Boone, and Lily getting closer to the oncoming storm. The sight was still as unbelievable as it was when you first saw it. 

Looming dangerously close to the people you loved. Even so, the smiles on their faces, and how they shouted in excitement spoke volumes. Eyes wide with a sense of wonderment. 

The all too familiar fearlessness etched on your boyfriend's face. It brought a smile to your face. 

As they anchored the truck into the ground, your heart raced. You shouted along with Dani and Dexter. You heard the fans around you cheer too as they shot fireworks up into the funnel. 

You watched as the sun came back into view, and they jumped out of the truck. You let out a sigh of relief. 

"Woo! Did you see that?!" Boone shouted and you laughed. Dani laughed out loud and picked you up in excitement. You held on tight to them and laughed as well. 

"She was gorgeous!" Tyler shouted. "Just like you babe!" He pointed at the camera and you knew he was talking to you. 

You blushed and smiled. 

As soon as the group reunited, you leaped from the RV. 

"Tyler!" You shouted as he stepped out of the truck. 

He quickly turned toward you with a huge smile. "Hey, baby!" He held his arms open and let you run into them. 

What he didn't expect was you to jump into his arms. He caught you and laughed, your face was buried in his shoulder and he placed a kiss on your neck. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, he held you up underneath your thighs. You looked at him with a big smile, that mirrored his. 

He set you on the tailgate, before bending down and pressing his lips to yours. One hand traveled to your hip, the other hitched your thigh higher over his hip. Your slender fingers ran through his hair, gently tugging at the strands. Your thumb affectionately stroked his cheek.

A low whistle sounded behind you and you smiled against Tyler's lips. 

"We know it was a good chase but damn, didn't think you would be that excited." Dani teased. 

You giggled and hid your face in his chest. He looked down at you in adoration. He let you go and helped you hop down from the bed of his truck. 

The group looked at the two of you knowingly. Boone winked at Tyler who rolled his eyes. 

"Use protection!" Lily shouted as you pulled Tyler up the staircase, and to your room for the night. 

---

Sometimes things got rough. For a brief moment in time, you felt forgotten. Forgotten by the one person you never thought would forget you. 

You thought it was over.

---

Tyler woke you up one morning. He was already dressed and ready to head out the door. 

"Where are you going T?" You asked in confusion. Trying to rub the sleep from your eyes. 

Tyler looked over at you with a sad smile. 

"What's wrong?" Your voice had grown concerned. 

"I'm going to check on Kate. She left in a hurry, and I'm worried about her." He said and fiddled with the arcade ring on his finger. 

Your brows furrowed together, "what?" Your voice was softer than usual. 

He shut his eyes and ran a hand over his face. 

"She went through hell last night. Dexter remembered her name from the paper a few years ago. I'm going to see if she's ok," he sighed.

"Alone?" Wondered aloud. He shifted his weight. "Were you even going to tell me? Or were you just gonna leave?" Your voice shook.

"I was gonna leave a note..." he trailed off and cringed at how shitty that sounded. 

"Fine, go." You said and pointed at the door. 

You did your best to hold back your tears, of both frustration and hurt. 

He tried to take a step toward the bed but you pushed yourself further back. 

"Baby, please understand, she needs someone right now," 

You huffed and shook your head. "Right, then leave. It's not like anyone here needs you," you mumbled. 

He watched as you stepped past him and walked into the bathroom. The door wasn't slammed shut but closed softly in a way only you did when you were hurt. 

Tyler stepped up to the door and placed his hand against it. "I love you (Y/n)," he said. 

With no response from you, he walked out the door. 

Having heard the door shut you let a few tears fall. You didn't want the team to see how upset you were so you pulled it together. 

You slipped into your jeans and a tank top before heading out the door. 

The door shut behind you, and before walking down the stairs to greet everyone you plastered on a smile. 

"You guys ready to chase some storms?!" You called down the stairs. The group turned to face you and they all whooped as you jumped the last few steps. 

You ran over to them and asked if there were any possible storms. 

As soon as you asked Dexter shouted. "I've got one! This cell to the east is looking strong, we gotta go!" 

You all piled in the RV as best as you could. It was nowhere near comfortable but it would have to do. 

Staring at the sky turning gray, and the horizon being blurred by the tornado picking up speed. The thought of Tyler running off to comfort a girl he barely knew, was eating away at you. 

Despite not being able to drive straight into it Liliy's drone picked up all you needed to see.

You wanted to jump out of the RV, let the wind whip your hair and the rain lash your face. You wanted to scream until you couldn't anymore, but if you did your friends would surely know that there's something wrong. 

You stayed silent as the tornado dissipated. 

It had been 2 days since you had seen or heard from Tyler. You had put on the performance of a lifetime. Each time Boone or Lily asked about Tyler, you just told them that everything was fine. You acted as if it was no big deal, and continued to smile.

"Tyler! Man, where have you been?" Boone cried down the phone. Your head turned to see him on the phone. 

"Wait, wait. Kate did what?" Boone questioned in confusion. He went silent as Tyler spoke to him. 

"Where do you want to meet?" Boone listened to his friend's instructions. 

He called everyone over and explained what was going on before rallying you all into the RV. 

Everyone chatted about Kate's plan, and you chose to stay silent. You didn't have much to say. All you thought about was Tyler, staying with her for 2 days. Her riding shotgun while they chased a tornado. 

They hugged and celebrated the rush of adrenaline after the storm passed. 

Before you knew it you arrived at the place he told you to meet him. 

Everyone exited the vehicle and went to greet Tyler. You stepped out of the RV and made your way over to the group. 

Tyler saw you hanging back and smiled softly trying to break the tension. 

"Hey Sweetheart," he said and opened his arms hoping you'd run to hug him. He knew he had messed up the second he reached Kate's house. 

He didn't know why it took him so long to realize the actual damage he had done to you. But he couldn't have turned back then. It was too late, you were already hurt. 

You sent him a curt nod before Kate came walking toward you. 

"Finally ditched the losers huh Kate?" Boone grinned at her and she smiled. 

The rest of the team greeted her with smiles and open arms. She looked over at you and tried to send a smile your way. 

You weren't a terrible person so you, just like you did with Tyler, gave her a curt nod. 

You listened as she and Tyler explained their plan to you all. You understood, and couldn't lie that you were impressed. But it didn't hurt any less when he smiled at her excitement.

Seeing her work so easily with everyone made you insecure. It took you a while to settle in when you met everyone but with her, it seemed like they had known each other for years. 

You leaned against the back of the RV as you tried to get a moment for yourself. 

You didn't hear his footsteps until they were right next to you. 

You looked away from him and did your best to not let your emotions get the best of you.

His shoulder bumped yours as he leaned back. His hand brushed yours and your heart jolted. 

"(Y/n), will you look at me?" His voice was soft. 

"Why?" You shrugged still avoiding his gaze. 

"Because I want to talk to you. I need to hear your voice," it came out almost as a plea. 

“If you wanted to hear my voice, you should’ve called. You should have stayed,” you refused to look at him.

“I know, I messed up. I was an asshole and I-I” he didn’t know what to say.

The sound of his voice made your stomach turn. "Please," he tried one last time.

You reluctantly turned to look at him. The man you loved. 

He could see the dark circles under your eyes and you looked like you hadn't truly rested in days. His heart lurched at the thought of this being his doing. 

"Baby..." his eyes filled with concern as he reached up to place a hand on your cheek. You stopped his hand before it reached your face. 

"Now you care?" Your voice was harsh. He could see the hurt and frustration in your tired eyes. 

"What do you mean, "now"?" He narrowed his eyes at you. 

You rolled your eyes and laughed bitterly. 

"You were going to leave me in our motel room, with a note telling me that you went to be with a girl you hardly knew because she needed you. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You went radio silent for 2 days." You barked. 

You threw your hands up, and he began to speak up. 

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I admit what I did was stupid, but look where we are now. We can help, we can make a difference!" He raised his voice. 

"I guess you found your match huh? Someone as smart as you. Not some girl who doesn't always understand what you're talking about. You found someone to make a difference with. You don't need a stand-in for the right person anymore." You didn't mean for your voice to waver at the end, but you couldn't help it. 

His eyes widened, and you could see what you said hurt him. 

"That's really what you think? You think you're a stand-in, you're just temporary?" His heart broke.

Tears threatened to fall, as you looked at him. 

"That's exactly what I think. You've acted differently ever since you met Kate, and now I realize that you found the one you really want." You stated.

He threw his hands up and ran them through his hair in frustration. 

"You're crazy, you're actually crazy." He looked at you in shock. Shocked that you believed he thought of you as a placeholder while he waited for “someone better”. 

His words broke the dam of tears you'd held in since the moment he left. 

He saw tears pour down your cheeks and grabbed you to pull you close. His arms were wound around you tightly and no matter how much you tried to push him away. No matter how much you struggled he held you.

"Let me go, Tyler!" You cried but he didn't let go. "I'm not letting you go." He stated.

"I love you." He said and looked down at you. Your face was wet with tears, and he could see how much he hurt you. But with his words you let yourself fall against his chest. Your tears soaked his shirt, and you clung to him. You didn’t know how much you needed to hear that until now. After feeling second best since Kate showed up, all you needed to hear was that he loved you. Just you.

He pressed his lips to your head. "God, I love you so much, Sweetheart. I'm so sorry. I love you," he whispered in your ear. He felt your frame shake in his hold, and he didn't know if it was possible to hold you any closer. 

You pulled back and looked up at him to see tears in his eyes. 

"You're so fucking stupid Tyler Owens. I should hate you, but I just can't," you said and pulled him down to kiss you. His hands immediately found your waist. 

He kissed you as if his life depended on it. Like you were the only thing he needed to live.

Your hands touched him anywhere they could. Wanting to memorize every part of him. 

He gripped your hips, ran his hands under your shirt, and traced every inch of your skin. Grabbing at the flesh of your waist. Doing anything he could to commit your body to his memory. His lips wandered to your cheek and left a trail along the column of your throat. He savored every sound, every sigh, every whisper of his name. 

The slam of a car door snapped you back to reality. He pulled away from you, with a soft smirk on his lips. You knew you must have been a sight. 

"Help me?" You asked him. He knew what you meant, and immediately ran his hands through your hair, as you wiped your cheeks.

He fixed the collar of your shirt and smiled before leaning down once more to kiss your plush lips.

"You still have a lot of making up to do," you pointed at him. 

"I'll do anything for you," sincerity dripped from his words. 

"Alright, love birds. We get you made up but we have to go!" Boone yelled. 

You chuckled as you ran towards the truck. Tyler helped you in, kissed your hand, and rounded the truck to get in the driver's seat.

---

Things after that day had changed drastically. Tyler had done everything he could to gain your trust back. 

He took a week off from chasing to stay home with you.

The time was spent tangled in sheets. It was spent in sundresses having a picnic in the field by your house. It was spent falling in love all over again.

---

-Hope you liked it alright! thanks for reading if you made it this far! <3

[rafesslxt]

DOBERMAN | Mattheo Riddle

summary: you and pansy go get some errands with hagrid in a store and on your way you find something really cute you wanna buy. When you come back with it, Mattheo isn‘t that convinced like the rest is.

warnings: cutest dog evaaa, new slytherin mascot hehe, mattheo being a softie and a dog dad, words: 806

notes: writing this in the honor of wanting a second dog, a doberman, even tho I got the most beautiful white Shepard ever

Mattheo honestly didn't knew what to say. This wasn't the first time you came back from shopping with things that surprised him. But this?

In front of him sat his girlfriend with her best friend Pansy and a fucking puppy. Even tho that puppy's head and paws looked so huge it could count as a little but matured dog. "What the hell is this?" he asks, looking down at it, sitting by his girlfriends feet.

"This is our new dog! And Pansy and I already named her!"

By the time half of the Slytherins were now in the common room, all standing and sitting around you and your dog. "What did you name her?" Theodore asks you. "Azula." "Azula?" he asks. "What does that mean?" a little girl asks, sitting on the couch.

"It's a name from a girl that can produce blue flames. She's a fire bender and really powerful." Mattheo sighs and shakes his head. "Does Dumbledore even know about this? And where do you even wanna let her be when we have classes?"

"I already figured everything out with Pansy!" Pansy nods in agreement and continues. "Yeah, we asked Hagrid and he says he would love to watch her whenever we have classes or are outside Hogwarts. Dumbledore said yes because officially it's Y/N's pet now. And well, we all know he likes Y/N so it wasn't really that hard."

"Yeah only Snape was a little unsure but then I told him I would teach her to catch rats and snakes for his potions." you say after smiling brightly at Mattheo.

"Oh come on Mattheo, she will be our little guard and new addition to the gang." you say, batting with your lashes at him.

"I like her!" comes from an Enzo who's laying on his back on the ground, already playing with Azula.

Mattheo rolls his eyes. " I am not going to feed her, walk her or do anything other. This is your responsibility, understood?" he gives in which leads you to jump at him happy. "Yes yes yes I promise! You will love her."

A few months passed by since you got Azula and to say Mattheo and her were enemys - one sided enemys - was an understatement.

She was now fully in her teeny phase which means she would not pee inside but now destroy everything her sharp teeth could reach. And to Mattheo's dismail, it were always his things. His ties, his hoodies, his belts, his shoes - especially his shoes.

He would always scold her for destroying his stuff but you told him every time that she was still learning and is now in her teeny phase. Like puberty. What the fuck does that even mean, was what he thought.

Azula on the other hand loved him. She was very picky about who she would let close to her but no matter how often she got pushed away by Mattheo, she would try again.

So it was when Mattheo came back really tired from his classes after he had studied all night long and got barely any sleep, when he fell down on the couch in the common room.

He slept so deep, that he at first didn't notice the little body that squeezed itself between his chest and arms. When he woke up from his nap, still alone in the common room, he gasps as he saw Azula's face right in front of his with her eyes closed.

That was the moment he fell in love, like hard. He would get her ANY toy he saw while walking through the pet store with you, originally to buy dog shampoo and a new leash.

No food was good enough for her but the one he got, the priciest of course and fresh food from Hagrid. He would barf her most of the time. (Barf is feeding your dog like raw meat, fresh fruits, vegetables and stuff.)

He would walk her every time you didn't have time or were still in class. Often he would let her chase Draco in his ferret form only to laugh at him when he hid on a tree or something different that Azula couldn't reach.

Oh and the pics you would collect of them both were so precious. Them playing together, sleeping together on the couch or when she was allowed in your dorm on your bed.

She also played a lot with the cats in Hogwarts as she grew up with them but she hates Mrs. Norris and always chased her through the castle, making Filch argue with you.

So now here he sat, with the love of his life and you. Joke joke joke. But no for real. He would love her to death and that's when it hit him.

"Y/n? I think I want a baby with you."

I just haaaaad to write this, hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think. 🫶🏻

Taglist: 💗💞💖

@sofa-couch26 @nevereverthem @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @atadoddinnit @Helena-1105 @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgalllery @slytherinscreamqueen @scrumptiouscyclewizard @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ess-perspective @ummmmmmm-username

My Masterlist

xoxo sarah <3

[hotpinkstars]

I am not sure but have we seen how Boothill and his s/o actually got engaged?

How did the guy propose. Oh I can see him ugly crying out of happiness when the s/o said yes >:)

PROPOSAL - boothill x reader

- boothill proposes to you.

- @xonavia knows how much i LOVE this man ....... OMG. i dream about this when i go to bed i have the PERFECT scenario in mind!!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for this ily anon enjoy!

- this can either be pre cyborg or current boothill, pure fluff, little bit of angst if you squint (only in the beginning) wc 524

Honestly, Boothills proposal was probably a ton of planning and milestones on his part.

He went through like all five phases of grief, but with super different emotions. First was insecurity, (what if he’s not good enough to be your husband?) then fear, (what if you say no??) then more insecurity, then excitement, then fear again. He thinks about it so much that a few days before he’s going to, he’s almost afraid to even look your way.

He takes you somewhere really nice the day of. It was a bit away from your home, and he left you confused the whole way there, but nonetheless, the spot he took you to was absolutely gorgeous. 

“We’re here!” he said, holding his arm out to show you what scenery to take in. You were already mesmerized by where you were, and getting to spend it with your (soon to be) fiance. You shared a meal and sat and talked, sitting on the cliffside, watching the waves of the ocean bounce over the rocks beneath and the way the sun set over the horizon. 

It was then where he went a little bit more silent, slightly shaking. You questioned him, but he brushed you off a couple times and went back to talking about something else, or pointing out something in the sky or the sea below. 

He gets up at one point, telling you to close your eyes. You can hear him moving around, the sound of pockets rustling and him breathing filled your ears as the scent of saltwater filled your nose. You heard a joint crack before he tapped you on the shoulder and told you to stand up.

You did, and turned around. He was on one knee, his eyes already watering, mirroring yours. You cover your mouth with your hands before your eyes welled up with happy tears, nodding for him to go along with his speech.

“Y/n, ever since we first met, I knew ya’ were the one f’me,” he said, taking a deep breath in. “I was ecstatic when y’ told me y’ wanted to be with me. I felt like a piece o’me was completed. And I want that piece to be completed forever. So, would you gimme’ the honor of bein’ the luckiest man in the whole wide world, n’ marry me?” 

You shook your head while crying, tears continuously flowing out of your eyes. You were overwhelmed with happiness, and you made sure you let him know that as you tackled him to the ground in a hug, still crying in his shoulder. At this point, he was crying too, relieved that you said yes and happy that you’ll spend the rest of your lives together. 

You both stayed like that for a while, giving each other occasional kisses as you both sat up. He grabbed the ring once more, taking it out of the box and carefully sliding it on your ring finger, where it fit perfectly. You held your hand out, admiring the jewel, crying once more before giving the man a passionate kiss on the lips, wrapping your arms around his neck.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Heyoo I saw your tags! Thank you for being lovely! Sorry for the ask haha I couldn't message so thought this was the best way to respond haha. Also good to see you back here, it's been ages! How have you been? How's life been treating you, my lovely?

Hi! Haha, no worries, it was a sweet and welcome surprise~

And man, I hadn't realized how much time passed until I checked and saw it's been over a year 💀💀💀 It has been a relief to see a lot of familiar faces though. I spent a lot of time settling into work and preparing for my degree this fall, so I had less time to simp. But things are good! Mostly just been reading Celeste Ng's newest book All Our Missing Hearts and playing Pokemon Violet over the break because I caved after seeing the Tinkaton memes 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I now have a shiny one, and she is a menace to all Corviknights everywhere 🤣

Needless to say I've also been doing Comte events throughout the time I was away, so I may be discussing a few of the translations if I have the spoons over the next few months. Honestly he's still full of surprises, the drama CD they released a few weeks ago for him had a lot of fascinating tidbits--perhaps my favorite of which is how desperately he wants MC in a black dress. I do love it when my faves go full baby girl, but I digress; that's gushing for another time, I'm sure 🤣

I hope you've been well, too! I wish you all the best, always 💛💛💛

[lewisvinga]

forever | yuki tsunoda x fem! reader

summary; yuki finally reveals his relationship with japans top figure skater. everyone assumes that it’s a fairly recent relationship until a certain detail is revealed

fc; rika kihira

warnings; google translated japanese

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3

note; requested !

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly, and others !

yourusername: (๑>◡<๑) ♡

tagged; yukitsunoda0511

yukitsunoda0511: 🤍🤍 liked by yourusername !

username: omg not y/n FINALLYYY posting yuki 😭😭

username: they’re still w the new relationship vibes i adore them pls ur honor !!

username: he’s so bf y/n u lucky woman

pierregasly: stay away from my yuki!

yourusername: stay away from my kika!

username: 😭

username: my new fave relationship 💞

username: y/n and yuki both being japanese is soooo cute is sooo cute to me

username: MY LOVES THEY’RE SO CUTE😖😖😖😖

username: the new couple honeymoon phase and love them ur honor pls 😞😞

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and others !

yukitsunoda0511: forever grateful we were put in the same kindergarten class many years ago. forever grateful to be your boyfriend. happy 4 year anniversary, my y/n. 愛してます❤️ [i love you]

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: awwwww yuki☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

yourusername: happy 4 years!! i love youu(´ ε ` )♡

yukitsunoda0511: to forever ❤️❤️❤️❤️

pierregasly: simp

francisca.cgomes: oh shut up, pierre! let them celebrate their anniversary in peace 🙄🙄🙄🙄

yukitsunoda0511: he’s just grumpy i’m cooking for y/n tonight and not him 😁

pierregasly: i’m the other woman 🕊️

username: TJEY’BE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR HOOQWWWW LONG??

username: and here we were thinking it was a new relationship 😭😭

username: ok but y/n is the coolest

username: anyone see pierre’s comment? lmaoooo

pierregasly: this is not a laughing matter when yuki told me forever!

yukitsunoda0511: to our FRIENDSHIP, i’ve known y/n longer than u

yourusername: 😁😁😁😁

pierregasly: let a man grieve, y/n!!

[mattsdolll]

𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 . . ୨୧

hockeyplayer!matt x quietgirl!reader

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . their entire lives they've always had a strong disliking towards eachother, what happens when matt makes her cry? i've never wrote anything like this so feel free to critique ! this is soo cliché😭 ib: august by chase atlantic. enemies to lovers, somewhat forced proximity ??,kinda angst, smut, mention of panic attacks, no use of y/n, p in v, unprotected sex.

this is my first time writing semi-angst & smut so this is kinda basic and i lowkey hate this fic but i love the concept of it. more work coming soon since i'm finally out of my tumblr slump & will be more active, in honor of me back in my chase atlantic phase..

"how do we expect to be anything when we don't try to be anything?"

2.8k words

enjoy🤍

year eleven was tough on everyone, matt especially. he had always struggled with school but with hockey and midterms he was stressed. next year was graduation & everybody had to take school very seriously in the hopes they'd pass. he had a couple of friends aside from his brothers, most who he didn't speak to much. nick and chris were the few people that were keeping him sane during this period of his life, he hated it. hockey was his escape, it let him get his pent up frustration out in a healthy way. you and matt had never gotten along, as pathetic as it sounded you were "rivals".

your relationship with matt was agnostic, for no particular reason there was just a strong disliking towards you on his end - or so you thought. you were too busy doing better things in your life. you could never pinpoint why but he just couldn't tolerate you. your entire lives he just seemed stand-offish about you. about a year and a half ago, everything changed for the worse. you had gotten into a massive argument over something trivial, your memories of the fight were vague. ever since then you had ignored him and he returned the favor. he had taken a liking to one of your closest friend and you had an issue with it, believing she deserved better, she did. you could almost hear the anger coursing through his veins as he screamed at you that night

"you can't just fucking do that! i liked her and you..you messed up everything! i wish you would just-" the brunettes words echoed through your head, he was furious, frustrated and deeply hurt, you couldn't see that at the time. you wondered if you were wrong in trying to protect your friend. you wondered if he had good morals. you wondered if you made a mistake, did you make him hate you?

you were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts, your teacher calling on you to present your assignment to the class, the eyes of your classmates staring into the back of your head as you made your way to the front of the dull room. you began your presentation, a lame low effort articulation of your view on mental health until you met his gaze. the brunettes eyes pierced through your soul, that look of pure concentration was bothering you, it was somewhat troublesome, he wanted you to mess up, he knew the eye contact would make you lose focus, you pathetically stammered over your words. you forced the rest of your speech out of your mouth, returning to your seat, he smirked to himself, his eyes following your body as you walked. you wanted to crawl into a hole and die, you hated public speaking or expressing your feelings vocally, it was something you'd struggled with as a child, he knew that.

it was a cold night in august, fall dawning upon the small town. the leaves slowly dying, sweaters being worn, pumpkin spice becoming the not so new trend. one of your close friends had offered you tickets to the game tonight, held at the school's ice rink. you were hesitant. she gave her ticket to you because she had gotten sick and didn't want to put the ticket to waste. you had no plans tonight, never mind getting ready to actually leave your bed. you took a hot shower, the scorching water streaming down your body. you blow dried your hair, straightening it and tying a low ponytail, lacing a black bow around the brunette locks. you threw on baggy jeans along with a black tank top, small silver hoop earrings and white sneakers, along with a black jacket draped over your arm. you drove to the venue with heavy eyes. you touched up your mascara and lip gloss in the mirror, the remnants of your makeup from earlier still evident on your face. you made your way into the school stadium, the cool breeze of the ice hitting your skin.

the game was somewhat boring to you, you had no idea what it meant to shoot or what dribbling was, but you tried to make the most of it. there he was, only a few meters away from you. the boy skated around the ice flawlessly, the void-like pit in your stomach felt full, your insides fluttering. you couldn't help but be impressed, you had never seen him play before, you never realized he was so good. he scored a few goals, the score was 7-5. his team was ahead, until the opposing team knocked matt out of the way, causing him to tumble over, falling on the ice. the crowd gasped, the opposing team scoring three points for their goal. matt hit his mouth against his helmet, blood leaking from his lips, he skated to the bench, cleaning up. you felt suspense building in your stomach, his appearance disheveled, hair scruffy, face sweaty, you couldn't help but think he looked..different. were you enjoying this?

apparently you were, you didn't exactly like matt, you just enjoyed watching the games, the games where he was the most important player, over and over and over..seeing him get so frustrated, it was like some kind of amusing pastime. after one of the many games you'd attended. during one of the mid-season games, his team on a winning streak. he had "finally" spotted you in the crowd while on the ice, he nearly choked on his spit, seeing you watching him play, he felt a sense of cockiness rush through him, the urge to win now unbearable. he needed to prove how good he was, but why? he scored the winning point, his team cheering and celebrating, his friends lifted him up over their heads. on their way to the locker rooms. you took in the familiar sight of his disheveled, ruined appearance, drinking in the sight. he caught you staring, however, a cocky grin spreading across the boys lips. you attempted to mask your embarrassment but it was too late, he kicked off his gear in the locker room, changing everything but that hockey jersey. the short sleeved top hung off his body perfectly, the color contrasting his eyes.

"stalking me now?" he teased, sitting next to you on the bleachers, the way he sat so confidently all of a sudden, not like his usual self, his demeanor was alluring, you had never felt this way about him until now. well maybe since last month. "i wasn't stalking you, i had nothing better to do tonight" you tried to protest, he simply chuckled. "yeah? and last week, the week before..and before.." he drawled cockily, he had seen you, every game, gawking at him. how could you not have noticed? "you don't talk much, hm? didn't get taught how to communicate growing up?" you went quiet, you hated talking, you were never allowed to growing up. you had developed this "don't talk unless spoken to" mindset and it carried on into your school career, resulting in you having little to no friends. it was a very touchy subject to you and you hated how badly it got to you.

matt was only teasing, trying to make a conversation until the tears brimming your eyes almost instantly made matts cocky grin disappear, his expression now evident with worry. you felt the familiar feeling of your throat closing up, your heart began to throb harder. you couldn't even mutter out a word, you got up and headed out in fear of breaking down in front of him, the last person on earth you'd want to look weak in front of. you settled on the grass by a small garden on the school grounds outside a now locked and empty classroom.

the second you took off matt knew he had made a mistake, he rushed after you, somehow losing you in the process. he found you eventually, sitting down with your knees to your chest, calming yourself down. and in that moment, he saw himself in you. he knew how it felt, the horror washing over you as the air deflated from your lungs, your throat tightening, he hated that feeling. he knew it all too well. he needed to provide you some sense of comfort, solace from his touch. he made his way to you and sat next to you, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. "hey..breathe, you're okay." he whispered reassuring words into your ear. you weren't having a full blown panic attack like you usually would, but this was still bad. you felt the feeling slowly ease out of your body, you felt like you could breathe again. "thats it..doing so good.." he whispered into your ear, stroking your arm. his words went straight to your core, something about the tone or the resonance of his voice in that moment did something to you, you felt your inner thighs become drenched, your heat beginning to ache.

"i'm so sorry, yeah? i didn't mean to make you cry tonight, or that night last year, i liked her, a lot. she never spoke to me or even looked at me, i just wanted her. i was right there but she was busy doing other things, she was everything to me, her smile, her teeth when she smiled, her hair..that haircut, the way it shaped her face..i..i was in love, okay? and i couldn't have her." he rambled out. the things he had described were some kind of literary illusion. this "girl" he was describing was nothing like the girl he so called wanted. this "girl" he was describing didn't resemble her at all actually. this "girl" was you.

all along, he wanted you. you never wanted him back, but you wanted him now. was it too late? did you miss your chance? did he still have feelings for you? why did he ignore you for a year? your thoughts rushed through your brain scatteredly as you tried to form a single word. he tilted your face towards his, seeing that panicked expression written on your face. he wiped the tears that stained your cheeks, trying to make it up to you. you gazed up into his eyes, noticing the different shades of blue and slight haze of grey in them. you noticed the tiny freckles on his face, so slight you could only see them under the moonlight, you noticed the way his curls fell over his forehead so perfectly as if sculpted in God's vision precisely. he was so perfect. you held eye contact for a few seconds, you wished you could, taste him, savor him. you batted your eyelashes at him, and that was all it took to drive him insane; your eyes. the specks of color in them were so beautiful.

he noticed the pleading look in your eyes, as if you were begging for him to do it. it did him in. the last bit of his conscience telling him to stop fell away, and all that was left was his urge to kiss you. he got a bit closer, his hands still resting on your face as he inched his face closer to yours. he tilted your jaw and pressed his swollen lips into yours. your eyes fluttered shut, giving into his touch. the kiss lasted for what felt like hours. he prodded his tongue against you, silently begging you to let him kiss you deeper, his hands finding their way to your jaw, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue massaging yours. you felt yourself gravitating back toward the grass, him laying you down gently. his hand cupped the back of your head before you hit the ground.

it felt like sweet relief, pain and pleasure coursing through your body. you felt like you were on fire from how desperate you were for him in that moment. he hovered over you, gently kissing you. you tugged his jersey, pulling him further into you. your nails scratched down his back, almost hard enough to draw blood, drawing a guttural moan from him. he looked down at you desperately, your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips

"i want this"

you whispered softly, finally vocalizing your wants. a new experience to you, yet it felt perfect with him. he looked down at you for reassurance. "yeah? you want this, pretty?" he cooed softly, your pussy ached. you gave a weak nod for him, giving him permission to touch you. "i want this, please." he sucked and nipped at your neck, pressing against you more, his touch gentle but eager. you writhed underneath him, the sensations throughout your nerves becoming unbearable. "matt..do you want this?" he paused briefly, staring at your face. "yeah pretty, i want this, i want you." his lips latched onto yours, trailing hot open mouthed kisses along your neck. his hips subconsciously rolled against yours rhythmically.

you felt his now hard cock pressing against your thigh, causing you to moan softly. you couldn't describe how badly you wanted him, he wanted you just as much, he was just hesitant to take you right then and there, in the middle of a garden. he wanted it to be special, but his need was overlapping his thoughts. he kissed you once more before pulling away. "need to feel you, fuck- pretty..please?" the boy begged, you nearly salivated at the sight. you gave a quick nod to which he quickly took his shirt off, hooking his fingers under the loops in your jeans, tugging them down. you quickly pulled your shirt off as well. he slowly stripped you of your clothes, leaving yourself in nothing but underwear. he groaned at the image, tugging his own pants down, his hard dick slapping against his stomach. it wasn't huge, but it was definitely big. his cock twitched in his hand as he pumped it a few times, pre-cum leaking furiously from the reddened tip.

you watched him in pleasure as he slowly approached you, lifting your hips a little. "lift your hips f'me" he mumbled, holding you in place. he pulled your panties down slowly and teasingly, you winced as the cold air hit your pussy. he rubbed his tip up and down your folds, admiring you. "such a pretty girl, hm? all f'me.." you crumbled, whimpering pathetically. a small smirk tugged on his lips as he eased into you, stretching your walls out. you groaned at the burn, it was uncomfortable but felt so good. he pulled out halfway before gently thrusting his hips into you again, letting you adjust a little. "fuck, angel youre so tight..have you never been fucked before?" he mewled, feeling you clench around him. you shaked your head weakly, pulling a desperate moan from him. he gradually picked up his pace, his cock going deeper with each thrust.

your pain faded into pleasure, small gasps leaving your swollen lips, he watched your tits bounce with each thrust, finding it incredibly endearing. he leaned his lips down to your nipple, sucking at the flesh gently. you laced your fingers through his loose locks, tugging the curls. he loved it, moaning against your breast. a string of saliva left his lips as he pulled his face up to look at you, your fucked out expression causing his cock to twitch harder. he buried his nose into your neck, speeding up more. the sound of skin slapping echoed through the halls, he panted softly. "shit, angel..'m so close..gonna cum, can i cum inside you, baby?" he whispered into your ear, how could you deny him when he begged so sweetly? you nodded, threading your fingers in his hair, the knot in your stomach beginning to unwind.

his thrusts grew sloppy, his cock twitching desperately. your walls enveloped him deeper and deeper. you gripped his shoulders, a pathetic whimper fell from his lips as his orgasm washed over him like a wave. cum spurted from his tip, painting your insides. your orgasm soon washed over you as well, both your liquids mixing at some point in the process. he slowly and carefully pulled out, looking down at you nervously. "was that okay? did i do good?" your jaw almost fell open, how could he ask that? "matt..that was fucking amazing" you mumbled softly, drawing a smile from his lips. he giggled softly, collapsing on you. he was like a whole new person, you barely recognized him. "yeah? i did good?" he giggled. you smiled sleepily. "mhm, so good."

he planted a gentle kiss to your lips, brushing a strand of messy hair out of your face. "pretty" he whispered admiringly. "can i take you home?" you nodded a little. you couldn't believe your life. you just had sex with the guy who you thought hated you for nearly two years, then again, how could you expect to be anything when you don't try to be anything?

. . .

tags !

@mattscoquette @blahbel668 @emely9274 @pearlzier @wompwomp-1

[devilfruitwriter]

falls in love easily {Taz Skylar}

Summary: Life comes at you fast, and often in uncertain ways, at least that's what you find yourself thinking when it's almost five in the morning and you're waiting for the cast of the upcoming Live Action One Piece Netflix show in their makeup trailer, and you realise you might have finally found your people. (And the way you try not to think about how you might genuinely be falling for the actor who you've been joking about being in love with since day one.)

Need to Know: They/Them Reader. Makeup Artist!Reader. Fluff through vignettes. No use of Y/N.

A/N: 3424 words. Unedited and probably a mess but I love him your honor. Now idk if it's good, but I hope you enjoy it. There's mentions of drinking. Let me know what you think, or if you have any prompts for Taz or any of the rest of the cast! <3

Taglist is always open, please comment or message me to be added! xx

Taz has started bringing you coffee, and damn if you don't love him for it.

"Don't let it go to your head; they love everyone," Emily rolls her eyes but her expression is fond. You stick your tongue out at her, still cradling your steaming take away cup with both your hands, looking between them in the makeup trailer they share with you and Emily's makeup artist.

"Yeah but me the most," Taz sits a little higher in his chair, his smug little smile is levelled at his co-star, though you see his gaze flick to you and the grin you're trying to hide behind the rim of your cup, "that's the point of the coffee, isn't it?"

"You have a few other redeeming qualities," you chime in, struggling not to laugh at the whole situation, especially as Taz makes a show of practically preening at your decidedly backhanded praise.

"Told ya," he's outright beaming now, "loves me the most, as they should."

"As I should?" You hear the disbelief in your own voice rise as you lower your cup, crossing your free hand over your chest.

"Obviously," Taz, however, does not seem phased by your indignance, looking at you with wide, bright eyes, like it's the most simple thing in the world, "you're my makeup artist, if you loved one of them more I'd consider that a great betrayal of our bond."

Emily can no longer contain her laughter.

You take a moment to ponder and sip the coffee he'd brought you, mulling over his words.

"I've known Emily longer," you pointed out, though Taz shook his head, managing to keep his composure and keep up with the bit.

"And I've worked with other makeup artists in the past; what matters is the here and now," he says with an almost believable sincerity, "and here and now, I love you the most, and I buy you coffee, and I'm gonna be real sad if you don't say it back." Endeared by his antics, the words tumble from you -

"Of course I love you the mostest -"

"- the mostest! -" he echoes under his breath with a pleased kind of triumph.

"- the mostest? -" Emily, however, has her whole face scrunched up, muttering amid her laughter like she can't quite believe she'd heard you say that.

"Of course I love Taz the mostest -" you doubled down, now outright grinning, "not that it should have to be stated; this is a well established love affair we've got going on here, was that not clear?" Gesturing between yourself and Taz, who's once again looking particularly pleased with the bit, the two of you share an amused look before both turning to Emily in the makeup chair beside you both. She gives you both a thin, amused smile, her laughter having died down.

"Oh it's clear," she smirks at him, "considering that even Kiki won't swap trailers with me -" though there's no real malice behind it.

"You have not asked Kiki to swap with you," Taz rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "you love us."

"And we love you," you assured her, playing up the saccharine quality of your voice once more.

"But not as much as you love each other," she pointed out.

"Obviously," Taz nodded, right as you agreed;

"That goes without saying."

(Later, when you ask him how he takes his coffee, he cracks an eye open where he's relaxing as you're laying his wig for the day, slight smile on his lips, telling you that's not how this works.

Music fills the little trailer in the in-between moments, loud enough that Emily and her own makeup artist can't hear the specifics of your conversation. You give pause, waiting for the spirit gum to dry, echoing his words back to him as a question, amused at his apparent courteousness. He nods, now watching you, as if confused by your question.

"How am I meant to let you know I love you otherwise?" You snickered, playing off the earlier joke. It did the trick, however, as he huffed a quiet laugh of his own. Still, he tells you how he takes his coffee, and you, triumphant, turn to the counter for your next product.

"Or you could just say," he adds after a moment, and you can't help but freeze. You don't even need to be looking at him to hear him grinning - this moment is doing strange things to the affectionate feeling in your chest, but you do your best to ignore it. Turning back, his eyes are closed again, settled back in his seat, waiting as patient as ever.

"That's too easy," you hope he can tell you're smiling too.)

----

"I'm so sorry, love," Taz is leaning against the side of your trailer, cigarette in one hand, and blue, plastic lighter in the other, "my lighter's dead, you don't happen to have one?"

After being called in even earlier than usual to assist with Jeff's Buggy makeup for the shoot today, it takes you a moment to catch up. It takes you a moment, and a yawn, but you reach into one of the side pockets of your backpack.

"Yeah, gimme a sec," you mumble through your yawn.

"Fuckin' love you," Taz mutters gratefully, shoving his own, empty lighter into his back pocket, "I know it's a filthy habit but -"

"I don't judge," you shrug, finally handing over the lighter that had been buried in the bottom of the pocket. Instead of heading in, however, you joined him, leaning against the trailer, tipping your head back to look at the lilac sky as it began to turn gold.

The quiet spark, pop, sizzle of the cigarette isn't an unfamiliar sound given the industry you work in. Taz thanks you quietly as he hands back the lighter, and you give a tired smile in return; you had an energy drink and probably a coffee waiting in your trailer but you would rather take these few moments of peace where you could get them.

"I thought you vaped," you mused after a moment. Taz makes a noncommittal noise as he breathes out a lungful of smoke.

"Left it in the accommodation," he admitted. He offers the cigarette, but you shake your head, "probably smart, like its a bad habit, yeah, but also I don't exactly know where this came from, I found it in the bottom of my bag, it's..." he gives a thin, self deprecating smile, "questionable."

"Sounds like a you-problem, my guy," you tell him, shifting over to lean against his shoulder, closing your eyes for the moment. You hear him laugh and agree, and a comfortable silence stretches out between you.

"It definitely is," he agrees after a moment, "can I ask why you carry a lighter with you if you don't smoke? Not that I'm not grateful -"

"That's why."

"What?"

"In case someone needs a lighter."

"That's sweet, that's very lovely."

"I do try," you hum with a slight smile. After a moment, he wraps an arm around your shoulders, continuing to blow smoke into the wind, away from you.

"You doing alright, love?"

"Always," you sigh, leaning into him in the moment, "I'll be alright, I just need to get some caffeine into me."

"Coffee's waiting for you inside," he told you warmly, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Yeah," you mumbled, before admitting, "I like hanging out with you though."

You can't bring yourself to open your eyes and gauge his reaction, but he doesn't let you go.

(He keeps borrowing your lighter. Sometimes it's those early mornings, sometimes it's on set, during the few scenes where Sanji's smoking; before anyone else he'll come to you. You start carrying your lighter in your pocket just in case.

"So you've just given up on having a lighter of your own?" You teased, lighting the herbal cigarette they were using for filming.

"Why would I need one? I've got you," he smirks back, and damn he's just as charming in character as he is out of it. "Thanks, love," he wraps you up in a one-armed hug, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before the cast and crew is called to stand by for the shot.

Taz is the kind of affectionate you could really see yourself getting used to, and he's definitely taken notice.)

----

Between the wig, the makeup, and covering up his tattoos, Taz's spends just over an hour in your makeup chair, depending on how much of Sanji will be seen on any given day.

"Scenes like today might be my favourite," You're working diligently away, already a half hour into your routine and mind on autopilot as you take Taz's hand to keep it still while you added product to your brush. You hadn't even realised you'd said that out loud until he responded.

"Scenes like today?" His voice is gentle but amused; you can hear him smiling but can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, suddenly feeling flustered that you'd voiced that thought at all. "Come on, love, you can't just say that, what d' you mean by that?" And it takes you a moment of deliberation to decide if you want to answer honestly, applying concealer to his tattoos as you feel yourself grow flustered.

"I like all your scenes," you mutter dismissively, "I feel lucky that I get to see so much of the show being filmed." Which isn't a lie, you're on standby on set to touch up makeup throughout the days, and you love the production and what you've seen of the show thus far... but it's also not the whole truth, and you know Taz can tell.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and when you look up finally, you can see the way he's smiling, but he's thankfully not looking at you. For a moment, you're glad Emily's not filming until later in the day, her call time not for several hours, so it's just you and Taz, and his playlist to fill the silence. But you make the call to swallow your embarrassment and voice the compliment that had been idling in your mind.

"I like watching you cook on set the most," you say without a hint of hesitation, and he looks to you quickly, almost like he's surprised by your honesty, but you weren't finished, "I know you've really immersed yourself in the role and put in a lot of effort and training; it really shows, especially when you fight and when you cook." There's something in the way he's looking at you that starts to overwhelm you, and you have to break the moment, break eye contact, go back to covering his tattoos or your not sure what you might do. Even your tone shifts, a little flustered, a little awkward, a little jarring after how sure you'd just been, "I, you know, I appreciate you and stuff, but you knew that."

There was a warmth to the silence that followed. When you finally sat back to grab the colour correction pallet, you could see Taz still watching you with genuine affection in his gaze.

"You're very kind," he says softly.

"Nah, it's just true," you huffed an awkward laugh.

"Don't hit me with that 'nah, it's just true' shit," he snorted, shaking his head, "you're being very kind and I appreciate that," he told you with firm honesty, matching the tone you'd addressed him with just moments ago, "lemme cook you dinner some time, 'cos I have been practicing," he agrees with pride, "and I'd take any excuse to show off, 'specially to you."

"Thought we established that I already love you, you don't have to prove anything to me," you ducked your head as you loaded your brush with product, unable to keep the grin from your face.

"Yeah, but this love-bit is a two way street."

"Okay," you said after a pause, finally meeting his gaze once more, and your smile grows wider.

"Okay?" Matching your excited energy, Taz grins widely at you, and you nod.

"Yeah, dinner, eventually," you laughed, "whenever we both are up for it. I'd really like that."

Something is... different now. Something has changed. Taz can't help but mention, as you're securing his wig, that it's going to be hard for him to think of anything but your kind words during filming today. Sheepishly you apologise, but he waves you off quickly - nothing to apologise for, he assured you.

But something is different.

(The silly, little fantasies you've been having on occasion, or more accurately, have been trying to ignore on occasion, have only gotten worse.

And more domestic.

They leave you feeling that kind of giddy-sick and unprofessional, the kind of daydreams that remind you at two in the morning that you should be sleeping and really shouldn't have a crush on your coworker.

Except you can't stop picturing small moments, like a sunlit, mid-morning, music playing on your laptop, the two of you moving around each other to make breakfast together on your day off. Or sharing quiet conversations and laughter while making dinner and -

When you both finally have a night off, he mentions how he's invited some of the other cast members to join you both. You've never been so relieved and disappointed all at once.)

----

Lines and jokes get messy and blurry; late nights on set, Taz almost falling asleep in your makeup chair as you're removing his wig for the day, nights out that both he and Emily invite you to, and a burgeoning friendship with the rest of the cast, and quiet moments spent in the back of Ubers lamenting how early you all have to get up the next day.

Usually you're the first one to bail, considering you're usually getting calling in even earlier than the cast, but some of the more responsible ones, or the other members of crew who have been roped into these various shenanigans, will split the Uber bill with you. The others all seem to understand why you have to leave early, but still, they're sad to see you leave.

What you tell absolutely none of them is that your self restraint is wearing incredibly thin when it comes to Taz already, and you know you're so close to doing something you can't take back.

Because he gets somehow more tactile when you're all out together; his arm around you, kisses your temple, your cheek, elated to see you whenever you meet up again after any amount of time. The way he laughs, the way he just talks to you, making you feel like you're the most important person in the world in the moment he gives you his focus and attention, and your brain gets all giddy and foggy when he calls you 'my love'.

So you need to leave, before you do too much, or say too much... well, too much more.

("My love -" and there it is again, his voice above the music, cutting through the crowd where he's spotted you.

"Yes, my darling Taz," you greet him with a sunny smile and open arms as an invitation to join you. Beside you in the booth, Emily and Inaki are playing slaps, and somehow neither are doing well, but thankfully they're both enjoying themselves.

Taz slides seamlessly into the booth beside you, pressed up to your side. Immediately his focus is stolen by his castmates' various yells and shrieks and slaps, and he half drapes himself across you and the table in front of you to get closer to their game. You don't even really mind, simply enjoying the moment, his proximity, and trying to figure out how long before you should head home. These three have the day off tomorrow, but you've been called in to assist with the hair and makeup for Mihawk.

"You're thinking very hard," Taz muses, as if remembering on whom he was leaning. Giving him a nudge, you grin.

"Just got work tomorrow unfortunately -"

Emily pats you sympathetically on the shoulder, Inaki immediately shouts that she's cheating, his eyes bright and wide. You push Taz back so he's no longer half-leaning over you to instead offer your shoulder to Inaki; he gives a decisive pat and declares he and Emily even, while you lament that you should probably hit the hay.

Emily and Inaki put their game on hold to say goodbye, Emily hugging you tightly and telling you to message when you got back to your accommodation, before they returned their focus to each other, and trying to pick a new game. Taz slides from the booth, giving you room to get out, and walks with you to the door.

"Surely you're not leaving," you grinned, but he's already shaking his head, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you get out onto the street.

"Making sure you make it to your taxi, or Uber, or whatever, okay."

"My hero," you teased, but still pulled out your phone to order your ride back to the hotel. Taz is humming something to himself that you can't quite pick all the while, "should be here in three minutes," you say softly, turning your attention back to him for the moment. The sight of his affectionate, smiling face has something softening in your heart - "you don't need to stay out here, I'll be fine, the bouncer's -"

"I work hard to my top ranking with you," Taz tried to muster up as much seriousness as he could, but it only served to endear you further, "no way I'm letting something happen in these three minutes and you end up liking some fuckin' bouncer more than me."

What you want to say is 'that will never happen'.

What you actually do is kiss him.)

----

It's not nothing.

This thing between you both is something, but you're not quite sure what. Because at first neither of you talk about what happens on those nights out, or how it keeps happening, but it never feels strange when you see each other at work. Still you tease each other endlessly, and there's something about the way he tries not to laugh when you're doing some kind of nonsense bit while doing his makeup, and how you'd fallen asleep against each other when Inaki invited people over to hang out and watch movies together.

Somehow after the wrap party, you, the main cast, and a few other members of the crew all ended up back at your accommodation. Most had left in the wee hours of the morning, but Inaki's passed out on your sofa, and a few of the other makeup artists had decided to squeeze into your bed like sardines, while you and Taz haven't moved from the wicker armchair on your balcony for hours.

The sunrise paints him golden in this moment you never want to end.

He's halfway through telling a story that has you practically wheezing, and you want to tell him that you'll miss him, miss these moments, miss whatever it is the two of you are, that you might actually love him, but instead what comes out is -

"You bastard, you know you've ruined me for other actors," you're beaming from ear to ear, watching the sun rise, and you hear him practically giggling as he leans against you.

"My grand plan has succeeded then."

"Grand plan?"

"Grand plan," he confirmed with a slight nod, "since I met you and you pointed at me," he points out to the horizon for emphasis, "and you said I was going to do great things with this role, even though you'd barely even met me; I've been gone for you ever since," he admitted with a snort of laughter, as if embarrassed by the recollection.

"You what?" You shifted back, eyes wide with surprise, only to be met with Taz's confused smile, like obviously.

"You've been nothing but a support this entire time, how is this a surprise?" He chuckled; seeing how obviously flustered you were becoming, his smile softened to something endeared, "you make yourself very easy to love, you know that, right?"

So much is running through your head at once, a million things you'd like to say, questions you have, what-ifs you could dwell on, but you don't.

"Oh thank god," you breathe, wrapping your arms around him, "I love you too," you're beaming until you're kissing him, this moment golden and absolutely perfect.

----

Taglist: @annssell @deadsnothere @hobbitsnapes @notdaninotfound @uncertainturquoise

[rogueddie]

A Spot in My Life T | 953 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is keeping a spare sweater or blanket in the car because they always get cold

Steve Harrington is a bitch.

It's something that Eddie knew, all through high school, but he had thought that Steve had somehow became a new person- thanks to the Upside Down and constantly almost seeing the world end.

Steve isn't a bad guy, he can admit. He's still trying to keep an eye on everyone, make sure they're ok, even checking in with Eddie in his own way.

But he's very sly about it, hiding it being playful jabs, eye rolls and cocked hips.

It rubs him the wrong way. And it's only made worse by how much Eddie still likes him. It's as if the bitchiness only draws him in more, even as it makes his chest burn with irritation.

He tries to avoid Steve for as long as he can. He knows that finally befriending him like they both want will only end badly, but he knows he can't resist the temptation.

He enjoys the time before as much as he can, reveling in how often Steve will try to corner him so they can hang out, how much he whines and pleads and pushes. He enjoys the illusion that Steve could feel anything for him like he does for Steve.

And, when they finally do hang out, his fears are confirmed.

Steve is amazing. He's funnier than he comes across as at first too. He pays attention to what Eddie says and tries to get him anything he wants.

He's the type of friend that anyone would fight for, Eddie is sure. It explains how he ended up so popular in high school too.

If Eddie had known what Steve is truly like, he'd have been lining up for a scrap of his attention like everyone else.

"They're assholes," Steve explains, when Eddie finally asks about his old lackeys. "Tommy always took shit a step too far. I didn't need them. Probably shouldn't have befriended them in the first place."

"They were your friends," Eddie reminds him.

Steve sighs, leaning back. "Yeah, I guess. Just wish I'd realised sooner, how they were getting."

He never complains about the kids, not genuinely. In the quiet moments, when Steve is honest with an almost painful degree of vulnerability, he talks about how amazing the kids are. He talks about how honored he is to be friends with Dustin.

It only makes Eddies feelings inch ever closer to 'the L word'.

"You should talk to him," Robin suggests. "He really is amazing."

"I know, but... guys that are ok with lesbians still get weird about gay men, you know?"

"Yeah, but Steve isn't like that. Did he ever tell you the full story of how I came out to him?"

"It was after the Russian torture drugs, right?"

"We were in the bathroom, near the cinema. I thought we might have puked it all up, so we decided to test it, ask each other questions. So, I asked him if he was ever in love..."

"Oh... oh no."

"Oh yes. He liked me, told me so, and that's when I came out to him."

"Holy shit, Robin."

"But that's my point. He was a little surprised, sure, but he started making jokes, like, immediately. Didn't phase him at all. He got with it immediately. We're just friends, and that's not a problem for him."

Eddie groans, throwing his head back so it thumps into the wall behind him. "But that just makes him more hot!"

The story plagues his mind, to the point that it's the only thing he can think about when he picks Steve up for their next hang out.

In the dead of winter, Steve feels the cold worse than anyone else that Eddie knows. He runs hot, and the sudden temperature drops brings out the worse in him.

He's shivering when he climbs into Eddie's car.

"Fuck, why isn't your heating on?" He whines.

"It's broke," Eddie reminds him. "It's fine, don't worry."

"Don't worry? I'm gonna get hypothermia, Eddie! I don't want to turn into an ice sc- what is that?"

He takes the blanket that Eddie had reached back to grab, staring at it.

"It's a blanket."

"No shit, I mean... it's yellow."

"Yeah? You like yellow."

"You got this for me?"

"You see anyone else shivering in my van?"

"No, it..." Steve pauses, glancing at Eddie before slowly wrapping the blanket around himself. "Sorry, uh... thank you. This is, um, nice."

"it's nothing."

"It's not. Just- take the thanks, Ed."

"Alright, alright."

They're silent for the rest of the drive. It's so unusual for them that it has Eddie nervous, glancing at Steve every other moment.

When they finally pull to a stop, Eddie turns to Steve, who stays where he is. He stares out the front window for a moment, before turning to face Eddie.

"Are you alright?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, I am. Enjoying the warmth."

"That all?"

"... yeah."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "You're a terrible liar."

"Wh- hey, I'm a good liar!" He tries to glare, but quickly backs down with a huff. "Alright, fine, but it's really sappy! Don't say I didn't warn you!"

"Oh, no, the horror."

"Shut up. I was just thinking about how, like... there's so many little things in your life that are for me. My tapes in your room, spare clothes in your closet, this blanket... I really appreciate it, man. You've made space for me in your life. It means a lot to me."

"Oh, right. That's... yeah. Of course, Steve. You're always welcome. I love- uh... spending time with you."

"Good. I love spending time with you too."

"Good."

"Great."

Steve's smile is wide and goofy. He's sure that his own is just as cheesy.

[readychilledwine]

Small World Pt 2

Summary - After discovering you and Azriel share much more than a mating bond, your relationship grows stronger as tensions between you and your aunt seem to grow higher.

Warnings - implied emotional and mental abuse, second child syndrome in a not good way, we find out Nyx is an asshole, unrequited love, slight smut, use of daddy

A/n - a potentially cliff hanger ending because I haven't decided 100% how this ends

Peep Part 1 Here 💙

Azriel stared at the dress box sitting on Rhysand's desk and nicely folded Illyrian leathers. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn them. The last time he had used a siphon. The leathers were fitted for 7, something Azriel immediately knew would no longer work.

His powers after removing the precious stones had gone wild. His shadows were different now. They were more aware, able to span wider distances, and able to recruit more shadows into his network to join them.

He had spent 5 years alone meditating and learning even more control over them, over what they could do, over how deadly they actually could be.

7 siphons would not be enough.

And he didn't understand how Rhysand did not see that.

He finally spoke, gesturing to the box. "What is this?"

Rhys was settled in his chair, trying to maintain his composure as Cassian stood near the bookshelf to mediate if needed. "We're going to the Court of Nightmares. My daughter's engagement has spread like wildfire, and dear Keir wants to host a party in her honor."

A breathy chuckle left Azriel's lips before he could stop it. "So my fiancée will be dressed like a goddess while I am in leathers at a party to mock us?"

Cassian shifted slightly. "We've always worn leathers to Hewn City, Az. It's to honor our heritage." Rhys just inclined his head to Cassian and nodded. "Y/n wears leathers."

"She has never worn a single set in the 2 years we've been together. There isn't even a set in her closet."

"There's several sets in her closet here," Rhys said quietly. "All set up for pink siphons. 14 of them." Cassian and Azriel couldn't help their chuckles. "Imagine a blonde Illyrian with pink siphons, Azriel, its quite the sight." Rhys smiled fondly, eyes glimmering with pride despite everything. "She's-" he looked up, searching for the perfect word for his daughter. "She's my everything. And I've done a horrible job showing her that."

Azriel sucked in a deep breath. "I won't mediate this, Rhys. This is a you two thing. Not an us three thing."

Azriel knew now why you were estranged from your family. Nyx was their golden child. Constantly praised, admired, in the spotlight. He was, and still is, their reminder of how they had almost died to pass along their love. He could do no wrong, never be wrong, and was treated as such.

You, on the other hand, were the second child. The significantly younger one Nyx learned to plant blame on and watch as you were scolded and seen as "the problem" as you had told him you were now addressed as in Hewn City and Illyria. You had been raised by Ness more than Feyre and Rhys, passed off to them until your powers bloomed at 16, and suddenly your father found you interesting again. With a lack of a spymaster, he exploited you, forcing you to touch people and feel their emotions, when they lied, their stories. Forcing you to live trauma over and over of females clipped in the mountains, of tortured traitors in dungeons, of Nesta's dark phase.

You locked your powers so far away one day, so deep inside you that even you hardly could access them unless you actually wanted to. It had been just before your 18th birthday that happened. And then the fight that sealed the casket happened. Rhys had verbally lashed you. Attacked you for refusing to let him use your "one worth" to keeping his family and court safe.

Your father had said he saw you as useless, and everyone else just stood by watching.

Like they had with Nesta.

Only you were just a child. Not a head strong warrior, a goddess in fae form.

You packed the basics and spent the night on the streets in a dark alley.

Even if you and Rhys magically fixed things, even if you forgave but not forgot, Azriel would never. How you were raised, how you've been treated, it forever will taint his vision of Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx. The abuse they unleashed on you, they'd never make up for.

Rhys nodded, eyes glancing to the doorway as footsteps approached. "I would never ask you to fix my relationship with her when I need to fix my relationship with you as well. I just need you to know I love her. That she will always be my girl."

"You have an odd way of showing her your lo-"

The door opened, and you stepped in, immediately going to Azriel's side and eyeing the box. "Dad. Cassian." You opened the lid and nodded. "Well. At least it's sparkly."

Rhys cocked his head. "You don't like it?"

Azriel watched as you paused. The bond flared with conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, longing. How long had it been since Rhys held you? Since he told you he loved you without you having to earn it. "No, I like it. I just know what this means. You never give me nice things unless Hewn City is involved." The last sentence trailed off quietly, and pain flooded the bond.

Rhys looked down, nodding as he scratched the stubble growing on his face. "I am sorry. I just-"

"Please don't. You never mean it." You grabbed the box. "I will wear it and find jewelry." You turned to Azriel. "Elain would like to speak with you. She said something about a garden you two planned together and how I'll never understand the love you two share. How it breaks bonds and shakes worlds."

The relationship between you and Azriel had been messy since dinner two weeks ago. You two had your first fight over, of course, Elain and her rekindled love, lust, whichever felt appropriate at the moment for Azriel. He ignored the constant letters, the random headache powders, the message coded flowers.

He had reached out to Lucien, asking the male what had happened. According to the new Lord of Day, Elain and he had tried for 5 years, but the damage had been done. Lucien didn't trust Elain, Elain spent most of their time comparing the two of them, and nothing Lucien gave her was enough. He had been the one to reject the bond, and after 7 years, he had found himself heavily involved in a relationship with a now fully fae Vassa and Jurian.

Rhys and Cassian both gave him gentle looks of concern as he held your hand, preventing you from walking away. He stared Rhys in the eyes, doing something he felt Rhysand had never done to prove a point. "I'd rather go home with you, so if you were planning on winnowing, we might as well go together." He picked you.

They watched as all tension left your body, as security eased into your face. "Then let's go home." Azriel grabbed the leathers, nodding to Rhys and Cassian before following you.

Azriel's elbow locked around your neck, hand squeezing your hip as he pinned you below him and continued taking you from behind. You both had no interest in heading to Hewn City, so you had distracted him, walking into your shared bedroom in just a pretty blue silk night gown offering to give your body to him for what he had done, the message he had sent.

You were supposed to be getting ready, but instead, Azriel was growling above you, pumping into you carelessly. Your toes curled at how deep he was hitting, at how good he felt, how good he felt every time. "So close," you whispered. "So fucking close-" You were moaning his name when the knock on the door came.

A shadow rushed to him, curling his ear as he paused. "It's Elain," he muttered. "She's relentless." You whined below him, hips wiggling to get friction back. "Baby,"

"Please," you begged. "It's been weeks, I've been so good, please, daddy."

Azriel felt his cock twitch at the use of the name. He'd longed for a moment to erase the memory of what happened, and you had just given it to him. He felt you moving your hips, doing the best you could while pinned to the mattress to fuck yourself on his cock.

You were his focus, the rest of the world melting away as he heard your moans turning into screams of his name. You sounded so pretty coming for him, crying for him, begging for more for less for everything as oversensitivity took over. You especially looked pretty dripping his seed when he pulled out of you. Once again, he had chosen you.

You two laid there, holding each other until claws came for both of you. Scratching angerly as your mental shields and causing you to bury your head into Azriel's chest. "We need to get ready unless you want him showing up here next," Azriel played with your hair, scratching your scalp lightly. "Let's see how many siphons I blow through."

After 2 sets of siphons being destroyed, you were currently dragging Azriel down the streets of Velaris and to your brother and father's tailor. You knew she'd be able to fit and dress him in seconds and that he'd look every bit handsome as he deserved. You were pissed when you saw he had been gifted Illyrian leathers and not a suit. Your father was out of touch with Azriel. With you.

"Helena," you smiled at the older female. "We need help."

Azriel felt stiff. Staring at the doors of Heen City as a shocked page boy ran to inform Rhys and Feyre of the late arrival. You two were about to upstage them in their own court. The guests of honor arriving late and being introduced after the Lord and his Lady.

You would have upstaged them by yourself anyway, though. Azriel admired you one more time. Rhys had picked well, though you both would never admit it. The dress had a see-through bodice of black lace and floral applicates with thin straps. It led to a satin skirt that was tight and then flared out to your hips. The left leg had a high slit, showing the toned beautiful skin Azriel was begging to cover in his kisses. You had picked a simple necklace, a single tear drop shaped sapphire with matching earring and a matching bracelet. Your ring sat on manicured nails painted a soft shade of pink to white coffin head tips. Heels graced your feet, the red underside flashing when you walked. "Gods, you are stunning," he finally whispered out in a hoarse voice.

"And all yours," you looked at him, adjusting the lapel of his jacket. "Forever." Your mask slipped on as the doors opened, a collective gasp ringing through the room over who was on your arm followed by whispers.

Azriel knew this song and dance, walking you into one thousand eyes staring and gawking. He hated seeing you like this as you were ushered to the dance floor. The first dance of the night had been delayed, and the fae were restless.

Once you were centered on the floor, you turned facing him, eyes cold and distant as you disassociated from this place. He placed a hand on your hip, leaving his other to his side where both of your sat.

It was unfair of Feyre and Rhysand to expect you to do this traditional waltz, but you followed Azriel's steps as the music began, that first note echoing in your bones and soul. Your parents had claimed your first dance with your mate. The first true dance you two would ever share, and it had to be done in front of hundreds of fae who spat your direction when the Lord and Lady were busy.

Azriel had decided he hated this side of you. He was studying you like a project. You were a different female down here. Cold, uncaring, forced into this role of the High Lord's daughter.

Did these fae know you took far too much creamer in your coffee?

That you were afraid of storms?

That you only ate fruit pastries because you found chocolate too bitter?

You were Rhysand through and through with that mask on. But inside, inside Azriel knew you carried the very light of what your grandfather built. You were a true dreamer, and you could rattle the very stars themselves if your father would just give you the chance.

If Rhysand would just believe in you.

Azriel decided in that moment what the answer to your happiness was. He'd take you tonight and you two would leave.

Fuck expectations.

Fuck the rules.

Fuck your family.

Azriel would pick you for the third time today, and you two would leave.

He just had to get you through this visit at Hewn City first, and as he watched Elain shatter a champagne flute in her hands, he knew that was going to be a mission all on its own.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

Azriel-

@elle4404

Small World Taglist-

@amara-moonlight @iimichie @acourtofbatboydreams @justasillylittlegoofyguy @janesalvarerelochanarcheron @hungryforbatboys @sidthedollface2 @hunt1bryce