#I've said it before and I will say it again: flawless no notes

[reachexceedinggrasp]

~The Dread Pirate Davey Crandall~

[buckets-and-trees]

Cedar Trees OR I’m Your Man + sleepy morning orgasm 😘

Both! both both both!

BUT

I did write FINALLY FINISH a little something for one of them. I've been thinking of this man for quite a while...

Title: Morning Radiance Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 750

Content Warnings: explicit smut - nipple play, spanking, oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, implied oral - male receiving, somnophilia, DUBIOUS CONSENT

Logistical Notes: Takes place immediately after I'm Your Man. Probably can't stand alone. Not edited.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You stir slowly into consciousness, your body already humming with pleasure, but every inch of you is also still heavy with exhaustion. There's a warm glow of morning sun touching your skin, but it's not too bright yet.

You become aware of a warm, wet mouth worshipping your breast, and you let out a content little sigh. A large hand is kneading at the other breast, but your stirring spurs that calloused hand to move down the softness of your stomach, caress your hip, and then down the length of your leg. When it moves back up, this time along the tender flesh of your inner thigh, you spread your legs and give a little hum, aware of your nakedness and glad you don’t have to rustle out of any clothes and can cling to the strings of sleepiness. You’re already wet, and you distantly registering you don’t know how long your bedmate has been working your body.

A nip at the underswell of your breast makes you gasp and draws you closer to wakefulness, but your closed eyes are still too content, so you stay mostly in your sleepy state.

“Mmm, I love how responsive you are,” the voice still thick with morning roughness makes you tense as the events of the night before flood your memory.

It’s Andy Barber’s voice.

It’s Andy Barber’s palatial bed you’re in.

It’s Andy Barber’s beard and lips and tongue exquisitely torturing your breast. His hand teasing your thoroughly ruined pussy.

Andy Barber who thoroughly ruined and punished your holes and limbs.

Andy who dangled ruining your career and reputation by spreading the word you were a thief after having someone plant three of his Rolex watches in your bag and “confronting” you about it after all was said and done with the charity gala you had planned and executed flawlessly.

He removes his hand only to rain down a quick succession of slaps to your pussy, and you cry out and try to snap your legs closed, but it’s futile as part of his lower half rests over your right leg, keeping you splayed out for him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your breast before giving it one more long suck. “I’ll always temper the pain with pleasure.”

You whimper and try again to move your hips, but he bars them to the bed and quickly settles at your core, nestled between your thighs with your legs over his shoulders.

And then he worships your cunt with slow kisses and long licks, soothing the sting he’d inflicted and stoking your body’s need for him.

“No,” you whine.

He chuckles because even as the protest falls from your lips, your right hand comes down to twine your fingers in his hair and push him more firmly against your dripping hole.

You bring your other hand up to cover your face, and then you pull it back, clicking the unfamiliar feel of metal against your skin and unexpected weight there.

Twisting your wrist to look at the back of your hand, you gasp at the flawless, sparkling diamond engagement ring. It’s larger than anything you would have dreamed of, but just within the realm of still being tasteful and not ostentatious.

He slipped it on your hand at some point in the night.

“You like it?” Andy pauses, leaning up to look at you and gage your reaction.

“It’s gorgeous,” you confess, but it’s one more thing you didn’t ask for, didn’t get to choose, in a long line of things Andy has promised and taken since revealing what he wanted last night.

“It’s perfect for you,” he says with satisfaction before returning to your clit.

You whimper as he edges you ever closer to orgasm.

The previous night he’d wrung every drop of pleasure out of you, playing your body until you passed out with exhaustion. He’d told you not to plan on leaving his bed this weekend, and as he pushes you onto that precipice yet again, you don’t question now how serious he is. He plunges two thick fingers into your hole, and you groan in the bliss that overtakes you.

He lets you catch your breath while he kisses back up your body, then kneels over your chest and taps his hard cock to your chin. “Come on, sweetheart, let me see that pretty ring shine while you jerk me off and suck the tip of my cock.”

And that’s only the first set of orgasms for the morning.

He’s got the rest of Saturday and Sunday to enjoy his new fiancé.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Do we still like I'm Your Man Andy? I know I haven't posted anything for them since December...

[lwfics]

Bailando (Javier Peña x Female reader)

Summary: You have to deliver a speech tomorrow and you are nervous. Javi comforts you.

Word count: 1623.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Tags: Emotional hurt/comfort, Sweet, First Kiss.

--------------------------------

I learned about this challenge a few days ago, but I read I could submit a story by the end of the month, so here it is my fic for the Pickled Peña Writing Challenge @pickled-pena

I hope you enjoy it! :-)

English is not my first language (it's Spanish) so I apologize for any mistakes. I've included some verses from the song Maníaca by Abraham Mateo. The original song is Maniac by Michael Sembello.

Bailando

You were more nervous than you wanted to admit.

Tomorrow you would be attending the annual general meeting. You didn’t like being the center of attention, and it was the first time you would deliver a speech in the presence of The Chief Executive Officer, who had a reputation for making people cry.

The tension level was higher every time the CEO was around. It was easier to make careless mistakes when people couldn’t keep a level head. Some employees took it out on others, saying things like:

"You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?"

But you didn’t need to worry. You had made a to-do list to make sure you had everything under control:

Memorizing the speech   ✔

Making sure the USB drive works and the PowerPoint slides are readable from the last row   ✔

Making a list of likely questions you might be asked after the speech  ✔

Writing well-thought answers to those questions  ✔

Learning how to look relaxed and confident ✔

Your list was flawless, or so you hoped.

Perhaps I should read the speech once more, you thought.

Your phone buzzled before you could grab your notes.

A message from Javi:

Ready for the party? ;)

A friend of him was throwing a huge party tonight. You didn’t know his friend, but Javi told you that his friend wanted his guests to bring their own friends. “The more people, the better.”

You’d told Javi that you’d go to the party with him. You wanted to be like your female friends, who were eager to put on a dress and dance until their legs felt like jelly.

Going to a party with Javi had always been a pleasant experience. He was playful and sweet, and he always got you on the dance floor. You wished you could forget about the annual general meeting, if only for a couple of hours. Seize the moment. Have some fun.

It wasn’t that easy.

You tried to picture yourself dancing with Javi. You hadn’t seen him since last weekend. You exchanged text messages almost every day, but nothing could beat the face-to-face conversation. You missed the way his eyes light up whenever he said or hear something amusing, and the warmth of his smiles, and his touch. A hand on your back, on your arm, on the crown of your head. A hug every time he greeted you. He had never gone any further, but you’d imagined several times how it would feel to kiss him. You had never kissed anyone. You had never felt the desire to do so until you grew closer to Javi.

He didn’t know you were in love with him. What if you told him and he didn’t feel the same and became distant from you? What if he stopped being friends with you?

Your phone buzzled again:

“Something wrong?”

He could see that you’ve read his message. He must be wondering what it was taking you so long to reply.

“Hey, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can attend the party. Tomorrow is the annual general meeting.”

You had told him about the business meeting. You had admitted it made you a little anxious, and he’d told you there was nothing to worry about and you would leave everyone impressed with your speech.

He replied right away:

“I know < 3 That’s why you need to take your mind off it. I promise I’ll drive you home early. You won’t miss out on sleep.”

You smiled.

“You’re very sweet, but I don’t think I can have fun tonight.”

“Tell me what’s troubling you,” he typed out.

You trusted him. He would never mock you. He also told you the things that made him afraid or sad or angry. He told you when he had a bad day at work or when he’d had trouble sleeping.

You typed out:

“What if I forget my speech or the file becomes corrupted?”

His answer was short and quick:

“I’m on my way to your house.”

That meant he wouldn’t arrive on time for the party.

“No, please, I’m alright <3  I’ll watch a sitcom episode, eat something light and go to bed. We shall hung out tomorrow if you’re not too tired after the party : )”

“Too late. I’m coming.”

Your phone buzzled again, and a second message showed up on your screen:

“That sounded creepy. Sorry.”

He hadadded a sheepish grin emoticon.You couldn’t help but giggle:

“Don’t apologize. I appreciate what you’re doing.”

“Is it working?”

Now you were smiling like and idiot. “Yes.”

“Good. Don’t eat anything. We’ll have our own party.”

*

Javi showed up at your door shortly after your text conversation. He was wearing a dark grey suit and a tie. His smile was so warm. He didn’t look disappointed in the slightest.

Your heart quickened. “Hi.”

Your hands touched when you took the cool bag. You placed it on a table and looked back at him. The smile was still on his face. He took a step forward and held you in a warm embrace.

“Hi,” he murmured against your heart.

The hug slowed down your heart rate and quelled your mind. Was it selfish to be glad that he was here?

Sometimes his kindness made your heart ache in a way that scared you. You shouldn’t hope for things that weren’t likely to happen.

“You look very elegant,” you told him after he pulled away.

Javi let out a small laugh. Suddenly he looked a little shy. “I wanted to look good for our private party,” he confessed. He stroked your arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. I’m glad you are here, but I’m sorry I cancelled the plan at the last minute.”

“Don’t be sorry. There will be other huge parties waiting for us, and if I’m being totally honest, I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

“But I stand by my words. You need to take your mind off the business meeting, and dancing is a great way to relieve stress. Besides, I think I have just found out the perfect cover song.”

Your heart fluttered in anticipation. “Which one?”

He winked at you. “First, help me set the table.”

*

He had brought a jar of pickles, a fruit salad and smoked salmon and sandwiches.

“You said you wanted a light dinner,” he said.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” You were going to say something else, but you finally decided against it.

Javi noticed your hesitation. He grinned. “You were going to ask me to play the song, but you didn’t want to sound impatient.”

“Yes,” you admitted, giggling a little.

“I know you well. And I’m not going to say no. I cannot wait to dance with you.”

You smiled. Your cheeks felt warm, but you didn’t try to hide your face. “I cannot wait to dance with you too, Javi.”

As soon as the music started playing, you recognized the song, although you had never danced to it.

“Maniac. I love this song! It’s so upbeat and catchy!”

He grinned. “This is a Spanish version. The lyrics are a little different, but I shall translate it for you later.”

“I’d like that.”

“Great. Now, show me how you move.” He came to you and started singing the lyrics.

Salió descontrolada.

Llegó.

Quemó la sala.

La vi

con la mirada

de una loca enamorada.

Javi nudged you. His face was so bright, and there were crinkles around his eyes. He loosened his tie and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You giggled and threw your arms over his shoulders. You shook your hips, and he nodded with enthusiasm.

“That’s my girl.”

Fue inevitable acercarme

Y le tuve que decir

Es que me mata todo de ti

Maníaca

Maníaca bailando.

Y lo baila como nunca antes bailó.

Your chest brushed against his. He stopped singing for a moment, and the way he looked at you took your breath away.

Y aunque no quiera siento que me domina.

Cada paso es mi dosis de dopamina.

“Lower your pelvis closer to the floor,” he said suddenly. The intensity in his gaze was gone, and now there was a hint of mischief.

“What?”

“Let’s see who gets closer to the floor without falling on their ass.”

“Oh my.” You laughed.

Adicta al dembow.

También reggaeton.

La tengo bailando en el suelo.

Neither of you could maintain your balance. Thankfully, you didn’t injury yourselves.

You lay on the floor, bursting into laughter, and you continued laughing until the song ended.

Later, when you both caught your breath, Javi propped himself on one elbow and smiled at you.

You returned his smile, resisting the urge to stroke his hair. He looked so handsome like this. You wished he hadn’t agreed that you shouldn’t miss out on sleep.  

He reached forward and touched your cheek. “Feeling better?”

“Yes. Thank you for everything.”

His eyes fell upon your lips. Was he thinking the same?

He met your gaze, letting you see the repressed hunger in his eyes, the same hunger you’d been trying to hide for months now.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

He pressed his mouth to yours. His hand moved to your hip, and he kept it there as his lips moved against yours. His touch was familiar and comforting, making it easier to get lost in the kiss. His tongue touched yours, igniting something in you.

You weren’t afraid of your feelings for him anymore.

It was liberating to give in. It was wonderful to see that he wanted this.

He had asked for permission to kiss you. Maybe now it was your turn to ask for more.  

[beloved-daydreams]

Folktober2023 Prompt: "Corn maze" 🌽🥺

An attempt by

Hosted by @jurdannet and @jurdannetrevels

📘 1 100+ words

😎 Characters: Taryn, small Jude, small Vivi, brief mention of Locke, Myriadh (oc)

✒️ Tags: Flashback, childhood, reflection

📢 Summary: Widowed, but actually the murderer of her own husband, young matriarch of her cruelly inherited household and pregnant at 19 years old. Taryn is standing on the grounds that are now hers as she thinks back to the past.

🧐 Author’s note: If everything goes well, this will actually be the first part of a 3 parter fic! 2nd part to be out for "My sister, the serial killer" and 3rd part for "graveyard meet-cute". I know that it might be a "bad" move to give Taryn a multiple parter for folktober since she’s a very polarizing character, but you know what? I think despite everything, she still deserves at least some attention and I’m gonna do what I want. Also, I bet most people will understandably be writing most if not all of their entries with Jude and/or Cardan as their central character, so I’d like to give at least some of the spotlight to Rynryn for once 😤

✏️✏️✏️

I look down to my belly and trace my hand over it, like I've been doing for the past seven months. Only two to go. Myriadh is following close behind me as I'm pacing through the maze of my castle's grounds, the one that was once Locke's. Her short black hair sways as she’s walking as loudly as she can manage in order to make sure that I’m always aware of her presence. Though it would be difficult not to, with her violet colored eyes constantly piercing holes in the back of my head.

"If I may, I think it would be good to go back inside now." She says with a calm tone, probably because she's saying it out of obligation to look after me. Not necessarily because she's worried.

Myriadh is the attendant-slash-servant sent by Jude. A faerie whose specialty is making the fae fall asleep. Her lullaby is as magical as a hard hit to the head, or so they say. Cardan had chimed in when Jude was trying to sell me the idea of "hiring" her, pointing out how useful she will be once the baby is born, how restful my nights will be even with a baby in my care. I held back on telling them how restless all of my nights always are, they were before I married Locke. They still were after I married him and they are even after I killed him and inherited his household.

I easily move across all of the nooks and crannies of the maze, having walked through those paths many times. Having stared at the structure from the top of the castle countless times, I had by now memorized every single turn and loop. Finally, I make it to the middle. This is where Locke would hold his "revels". Music, wine, shameless kissing. Sometimes more than kissing. Some fae truly couldn't care less about exposing their bodies. Not something us humans could easily think about doing. Not with our wrinkling bodies. Not in public.

I would stare at them, at their perfect skin. Their ethereal figures. Their flawless hair and nails. Something I could only dream of getting close to after hours and hours of skincare, hair products brought from the human world by Vivi, proper exercising and waxing. I wanted to look like them, even if it came down to doing the same things over and over and over again.

I try to wash the unpleasant thoughts away. What am I even thinking about? I'm a 19 year old with a baby, that's what I should be focusing on. Yet the thoughts keep flowing. They flow and they bring me back to over ten years ago, when we were still little girls playing with dolls and running around the neighborhood, playing and fighting. Fighting and playing.

One time, our parents brought us to the giant corn field that was located about 20 minutes away by car from our house. They told us to go pick up some corn and bring it back for us to eat. I asked if it was safe. "But mom, isn't stealing bad?" Mom smiled and said "Not if the one you're stealing from has much more than you." I nodded and went on ahead to join Vivi and Jude who were already discussing what game to play as we'll be taking the corn from this farmer owned land.

Vivi had offered to try to find the biggest, most delicious looking corn and bring it back to compare. So we did. Not scared of anything, Jude went further and further in. I figured we should try to stick close together, so I followed her. Then as I lost sight of her I finally realized just how tall the corn stems were. And instead of screaming or crying I just stood there, lost but quiet. I don't know why, I just stood there, blending into the background. I didn't know what to do so I made myself small, Jude will find me. Jude always finds me. But I know that if it were her that got lost, she wouldn't stay quiet. She would scream and run around, making herself be heard. And even if she didn't manage to carry her voice far enough to be heard, if she kept on running, she would find the edge of the field eventually. Even if it would be at the complete opposite from where she came in, she'd be out of it. She would find her way out on her own.

I couldn't, I needed someone to find me then carry me back by holding my hand. I think part of the reason being that our teacher had told us to stay where we were if we got lost, so that our parents wouldn't miss us as they would try to find us. And so I did as I had been told, although in this context, it was probably the worst thing to do. A couple of minutes went by. Maybe 10, maybe 20. I started to sweat. What if Jude was also lost? Though I would doubt it, she often knows where she's going.

Finally, as soon as I heard our parents calling out to me, only then I screamed. They took me out of there, Vivi and Jude were already outside. When I saw that I cried, why was I the only one who got lost? Because I listened to what I've been told to do in a situation where I shouldn't have followed the advice. Jude looked at me, sorry. I bawled, asking her why she didn't try to find me before getting out of there.

She said: "I thought you'll find your way back too."

She thought of me as someone who’s just as capable as her, but I instinctively knew I wasn't. So I must've subconsciously decided that whatever she could do, I'd give up on it. And whatever she couldn't do, I would do it. As if skills were territorial. As if you could call dibs on them. How stupid.

I let the wind caress my ears as it tries its best to pass through the walls of the maze, then I open my eyes.

"I'll get rid of it." I say absent-mindedly. Myriadh's pointy ears catch my soft voice immediately and she answers me, as if I was talking to her and not to myself.

"Get rid of what, my liege?" She asks.

"Of this god-awful maze that smells like alcohol and copulation. Get a carriage ready Myriadh, let's pay a visit to my sister."

She bows slightly, then hurries her way out of the maze without me, knowing that I know the way back way better than she does anyway.

Even as the carriage is there, I take my time in my room, choosing a midnight blue coat with golden buttons, and putting on gloves that match my coat, I’m ready to go.

✏️✏️✏️

I hope I’m doing a somewhat good job so far? Taryn is a character I’m really interested in, since I feel like she often gets completely misunderstood or denied the permission to have "layers" unlike the male characters around her who are always either automatically assumed to have deeper meanings in their cruel actions or outright forgiven/forgotten. It is unfortunately a common phenomenon seen in how the audience perceives fictional characters, although I’m not sure if it has a specific name. The men are assumed to have legitimate reasons for all the horrible things they do while the women (who are often times so clearly traumatized) are assumed to be shallow, jealous and uninteresting. And if not, everything about them needs to be spelled out for the audience to even come close to understanding/forgiving.

Anyway, this is almost going into a rant, sorry! Won’t happen for the next parts, promise 💖 As always, please consider leaving comments/tags! Those are the things fanfic authors value the most 🥹

[goldeneyedgirl]

Re: sex-worker alice— Have you written jasper finding out the alice he left is a sex worker? Cause oof i need to see the reaction to that

The initial meeting between Alice and the Cullens - from Alice's POV - happens on the street accidentally, and Edward identifies the bruises Alice has as something she does for work and is consensual - Jasper is definitely more focused on finding and harming the person who inflicted harm on Alice than comprehending what Alice actually did as a job.

There are also notes for a scene where the various Cullens try to get Jasper to talk about Alice's career choice and Jasper very stubbornly refuses to talk.

The below is the closest I've gotten to the first kind of confrontation, and is a very very rough draft

I'd say I was surprised to see another Cullen waiting for me after work, but I would have been more surprised to be left alone honestly. The surprising part is that it was Jasper. I was sure Carlisle and Esme would make another bonding attempt before Jasper came near me.

He stood up like a gentleman when I walked over, looking every bit as good as I remembered, but I had long since stopped caring what the Cullens thought of my clothing or how I looked. Not everyone was as wealthy and privileged as they were, and sometimes food and shelter came before plush winter coats and buttery-soft leather boots. Not all of us could have flawless skin and glossy hair every moment of the day. 

…Maybe I was still a little jealous. 

"Hi." Jasper's voice is soft, and I can feel his eyes search mine for a moment before I look away, to jam my phone in my bag. 

“Hi. Wasn’t sure who to expect today,” I said in a wry voice. “Figured it would be Esme again.”

He chuckled. “Are we that transparent?”

“Mmm-hmm.” 

//

"Just because you didn't want to see me naked, doesn't mean other people don't," I said calmly, taking a sip of my milkshake. 

Jasper scoffed, and for a moment, he looked annoyed. "That's not true," he began, and I raised my eyebrows. That was probably the closest we’d ever gotten to actually discussing sex. Some very restrained and polite kisses were the closest we got - the singular time we came close to making out, he’d insisted he leave. And I know my sixteen- and seventeen- year old self in her Hello Kitty underwear and thrift shop dresses wasn’t exactly the stuff of teenage fantasies, but I had definitely wanted more back then. 

Jasper gritted his teeth and changed the subject. "I thought you got free college through the state?”

"I get free tuition. I still need to pay for food and shelter and clothing and books,” I said. “Plus I need a car, and new glasses and a whole bunch of human things. The details don’t matter, Jasper, I need to work to afford school.”

“Not like this,” he snapped, and I realised this was as upset as I had ever seen him. 

"An hour of my time starts at one hundred dollars, Jasper," I retorted. "The house pays me sixty from that. There are no jobs for nineteen year old high school graduates that pay close to that. I've had nights where I’ve made a thousand dollars.”

He turned his head away from me. "I don't want to know that.”

"Why?" I demanded. "Because if it's some antiquated notion that I should have stayed virginal and pining for you - after you left without saying a word - whilst being screamed at by women who wanted extra foam in their coffee for ten bucks an hour we have nothing left to say to one another. We both know that you haven't sat around since the Civil War waiting patiently for marriage, so why was I supposed to? Especially when you had no intention of ever seeing me again?”

"You're selling your body, Alice. You can't expect me to be okay with that.”

“It’s my body,” I hissed, standing up. I almost missed Esme’s sad eyes and flowery euphemisms about saving me from my bad choices. “You don’t get to fuck off secretly and then turn up two years later - by accident - to judge me and complain and send your family to try and save me from myself. I needed saving when I was sixteen. Not now.”

Shouldering my bag, I turned to leave when his hand whipped out and clamped around my wrist suddenly and I tried not to flinch, the old bruises protesting at his tight grip. 

“You were supposed to be mine,” he said in a low tone that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Whether it was something supernatural or just the anger in his voice, I didn’t know. 

I pulled my wrist away and he let me go. “No,” I said quietly. “I’m not property, Jasper. And whatever we were supposed to be was over the minute you left me in Forks alone. Tell your family that I don’t work Wednesdays.”

And with that, I walked away. 

[cherrygirl-28]

I posted on May a post about my own L headcanons but was deleted accidentally. Luckily, I still got the text on my phone notes.

————

«Hello anon, thank you for asking! ❤️ I have a few headcanons for our beloved detective, although I've been in situations where I would argue with people about those headcanons. You know, most people in the fandom want L to be flawless, but I think it's because he's a complex character on his own. Nothing is black and white with him.

Here we go!

• Besides sweets, he also eats regular meals but only behind the scenes. He eats sweets only when he is in deep thinking, or when he tries to focus on a difficult case. Think about it. If he only ate sweets whole of his life, he would have died long before the Kira case started. Also, yes, he does sleep.

• He was born intelligent but received some training to become a detective. He passed through an intelligence test, in which all the children participated, so that people of the Wammy's house can choose which candidate will eventually become a detective.

• Doesn't remember his parents but would like to meet them and find out where he comes from.

• His mother was a... Luxury escort to make money since she had ran away from home at 17. Although she was generally careful with her costumers, she accidentally became pregnant by one. She was 20 and he was 75. Of course she was fired and didn't want to go through the surgery process, so she gave birth to him in Moscow, Russia.

• As for his strange behaviour when he arrived at Wammy's house and thought that hugging someone is a violent behaviour, (there's a scene about that in a one-shot manga) was a response to some trauma he had. He probably suffered through an abuse, or a severe shock. Remember he was only a child.

• Respects human life, even when circumstances don't allow him to respect it as much as he should. He feels pity towards a dead person whether they were a criminal or not. I think the reason he continues the cases with such stubbornness, it's because somewhere deep there's a smouldering desire for justice. Even though he says his job has nothing to do with it. (Referring to his speech about monsters)

• Loves animals. There is no preference. He loves all the species, although cats seem to like him and he can't understand why.

• Has a good relationship with children. And by saying good I mean he's patient and never yells at them. We have seen this concept again in "L: change the world" and it made him a great babysitter! L himself said he's childish and hates to lose. Well… Maybe there's an immature child inside of him who just wants to have fun, but didn't had that opportunity in his childhood. That's why he's so understanding towards them. Because in his mind it feels like he's talking to his younger self. Also, the children of the Wammy's house have him as a role model and admire him for his achievements.

• Is an artistic soul. As a child, he had been involved in music and even played the piano and violin. Later, he wanted to learn how to play electric guitar but didn't make it due to work obligations.

• He's a good listener. Even if he doesn't have great advice to give, he gives his full attention to the conversation.

• If he falls in love, he will become protective and endearing. And that's because he actually has a heart. You just have to be willing to see what is hidden behind that deadpan face.

• Never fell in love. He had some crushes in middle school, which felt intimate. Close to be love, but it was never actual love. It was something in between feeling friendly towards someone, and at the same time having that butterfly feeling when seeing them.»

[deep-hearts-core]

2023 - Semifinal 1

yall. besties. yesterday was eurovision, and i watched it 45 minutes behind everybody else, and i VOTED, and it cost me a stupid amount of money and im probably never doing it again! n e ways here goes

Norway i've had mixed feelings about this entry since it was selected (largely because i was bitter about the mgp results lol). this wasn't... terrible, but i felt underwhelmed? i liked the opening in italian and i respect alessandra for how much FUN she's having onstage, but she seemed weak vocally in a lot of places, there were a couple spots where she strayed from the key, and the removal of her cape was so quick, i wish they'd lingered more on that? camera shots also weren't timed perfectly i think. and ofc i've said before that these lyrics bother me and that it goes just a little too hard in the chorus. i respect the sea shanty vibes however i disagree that it is actually a sea shanty. ok. puts down mic.

Malta sigh. this is such a delightfully fun song that i've been so pleased by since its selection but the staging fell so flat. i love dav jr's dancing, it's excellent, but we needed more camera time on the saxophone. we really could have had epic sax guy 2: malta edition on our hands. also there were too many graphics (to cover the set changes) (i liked the set changes but were they worth the graphics? no) and i wish we could have actually seen the costume change. i dunno. it's still a really fun number and they sounded great but the staging was messy and they also chose a bad bad recap clip lmao.

Serbia ok, so i used to hate this but it's grown on me a lot especially since this performance. this song knows what it is and it plays to its audience. luke suits this song to a t (naturally, he wrote it, yknow?) and the outfit, the dancers, the set, the lights, everything felt cohesive! except for the graphics, i didn't need the graphics. also can i just say im a wide shot hater yall know this but the slow zoom out after the first "samo mi se spava" was INCREDIBLE. the only good wide shot in the history of eurovision.

Latvia i have zero technical complaints about this. vocally, and in terms of staging, this was flawless. the song isn't really my style but i don't actively hate it, mostly i think the beginning flows a little weird? it's funny, watching this i was like, if they qualify they could win the whole thing because juries will love it. and then they didn't qualify. which, like, ok, this is a jury song, but huh? this was a technically perfect performance!

Portugal my preshow winner! the first act of the night i felt was dwarfed by the stage a little, and she didn't seem fully comfortable vocally, but the performance was still so much fun and i think i actually shouted "fuck yeah" to my empty apartment when she hit that last high note.

Ireland man, idk if the singer was sick or nervous or what but the mic was so far from his mouth at all times and he sounded so strained. it makes my voice hurt just to listen to. and i mean, the song is fine, ultimately generic but fine, and i liked the all gold staging. but i cant get over how nervous conor looked and sounded.

Croatia as one of my preschoolers used to say, "i didn't really like that". because first of all, not that im against politics in eurovision, but how was this not disqualified over political grounds? the ebu's hypocrisy is showing. secondly it's not cohesive, it's disjointed until right at the end. and i don't like the onstage aesthetic at all. makes me kind of uncomfortable. in the end i don't think it's an effective joke entry. i know people are hailing it as being thee anti war song of the season or whatever but i don't think it's that good and i think people like it because of the caricatures. which like. fine. but don't hold it up against, yknow, switzerland or whatever and say look see croatia is the good anti war song! because it's not... it's not good.

Switzerland now look i get the tone deaf accusations i really do. maybe its my perspective as a usian here, but i think this is allowed to be a commentary on like, masculinity and conscription and the glorification of war to young boys, i don't think it's telling ukrainians and russians to just sit down for some tea, you know? anyway i missed most of this performance yesterday bc i was busy voting (i was behind the stream but i checked tumblr at the right time and scrambled to give votes to portugal) so this was really my first time watching. i was surprised when it qualified but technically it was actually very good, pretty good staging and remo sounded basically like in the studio version, he's got a gorgeous voice. the song is generic, switzerland has sent basically the same song the past two years, yknow, theyve found their groove and theyre sticking to it thats fine. i dunno. i don't hate it.

Israel bro... why was this good. listen like i'm not huge on this kind of song i thought it was pretty annoying initially, like i didn't extremely hate it nor did i think there were subliminal antipalestinian messages in the lyrics or whatever i just didn't enjoy it. and while noa didn't sound great, she had good energy and the staging fucked?? that dance break?? i was expecting it to be messy but it blew me out of the water which i guess i should have expected from israel but shrug. also free palestine tho the ebu turns a blind eye to israel's atrocities while cutting off russia because the ukrainian perspective is more palatable and like, fuck that it's deeply hypocritical.

Moldova while vocally pasha isn't all that solid, the stage show and songwriting here are both phenomenal. this is pasha at his finest. i love all the jumps he does, i love the drumming, i love that the backing vocals are live!!!! this fucks so hard

Sweden i'll say it: this wouldn't be getting as much hype if it weren't loreen. it's not a bad song, even if her vocals aren't as spotless as they were in 2012 and even if that outfit is objectively just terrible, but the name recognition does a lot. great staging though. the close staging is what made euphoria work and it's doing the same thing here. i've said this since melfest: the only way i'll be truly happy with this is if loreen pulls a johnny logan and becomes the second person to win twice. like karmically that is the only thing that is allowed to happen here. if she gets like third or something i'll be deeply dissatisfied. (i'd also find it deeply funny if she placed like 20th but that's just because i like to be a hater.)

Azerbaijan that performance gave 1970s, 1990s, and 2011 all at once. truly atrocious outfits and vocals weren't outstanding but then again it isn't that kind of song. i think we always knew this one would get lost because it's so much more mellow than the other acts but it's just SO low energy. the outfits i think led people to believe this would be a more energetic number than it was. and there's a place in eurovision for numbers that are just vibes like this but it didn't work, yknow? staging was the best part of this though, not a standout by any means but it was good it didn't detract from the song at all.

Czechia underwhelming. this song goes hard in studio and i knew it wouldn't translate 1:1 live. i love the outfits and i don't hate the hair extensions, shockingly. i think it's a great opening and a great bridge but the mix between prerecorded and live backing is rough and the stage felt too big for them. still good tho. love those harmonies and the lead singer's voice is beautiful and delicate and just, mmm.

Netherlands i am going to say it again. you could have picked me, a somewhat trained singer who knew the song, up out of the us and dropped me in liverpool with 24 hours notice and i still would have done better than mia nicolai. listen, the staging was gorgeous and dion did great. i love the song, i think it's beautiful. the key change... better for the singers, even if the piano in the beginning sounded distorted and very obviously pitched down. but MIA. my god. she didn't sound good, didn't hit her high notes (the prerecorded backing vocals did it instead), and she had TOO MUCH ENERGY. mia stop bouncing around this is not the mia show this is not a pop banger mia please. it was distracting and it totally ruined the experience for me.

Finland it took me a while to understand why everyone loves this, but i get it now. like serbia's entry, it knows what it is and leans into it and does all of those things well. like, kaarija doesn't NEED to be a great singer, because the way the staging works with the music and the rap balances it out. again, it's cohesive! it's funny to watch it's fun to bop to i know it's a commentary on alcoholism even if i can't understand the lyrics and that staging. is really fucking cool with the dancers and the crate and the lights. and also i love how all of finland has rallied around the guy. helsinki 2024, if i had to place bets i think this is definitely a contender.

My personal qualifiers: finland, portugal, latvia, moldova, sweden, czechia, serbia, malta, israel, switzerland. i'm floored that this list includes serbia israel and switzerland u guys. but it does.

Miscellaneous thoughts: THIS YEARS HOSTS. hannah alesha and julia you will always be famous <3 they're fucking iconic they're so good and julia opening the semifinal was great, idk much hardkiss music but she's a great singer. alesha's rap was also super fun. and hannah's french. "see, we do bother to learn other languages!" lmao. i love alyosha but how do you get alyosha here and not have her sing sweet people. it would have been topical!!! like cmon!!! rita ora was good although i think i join every other esc fan in being slightly salty about it. like oh we're good enough for you now? my god the lines were open for what felt like forever. is it always that long? why was there no countdown timer? DUSTIN THE TURKEY! THEY GOT DUSTIN THE TURKEY!

[godslino]

Oh my goodness the few days that I haven’t checked your account, you responded LOL I’m sorry that I didn’t see it earlier! I’m glad you’re alive and doing well; I’m doing pretty good too. My days have been relatively boring lately. School is treating me as usual hahaha. I understand the feeling of those voices in your head. The constant thoughts that your work isn’t good enough, whether it’s writing or anything, really, seems to be a universal experience :,) I rewrite my messages to you all the time, I think the first two asks I sent in I spent at least 30 minutes on because I was so nervous (╥﹏╥) (I’m reading over my completed ask right now!)

As a small note, not sure if it’ll help or not (just handing out my thoughts. If it’s too much or anything please tell me! I never know whether people just want me to listen, comfort, or give advice, so please be forgiving hahah I swear my intentions are good), but remember that you’re handing out your work for us to enjoy for free! You don’t owe us anything, so just showing your drabbles is more than enough, with or without the occasional imperfection. It doesn’t have to be flawless, but I totally get the feeling of wanting it to be. Any writing you send out to your account is something that at least a handful of people will enjoy—you’re guaranteed one [cherry-scented, university-hating] person who will be impacted by your work in a positive way hahah. Standards are placed on yourself by yourself, and the idea of “good enough” is all in your head, which you’re so strong for constantly battling! Know that the standard that most casual readers expect are probably way less than what you put on yourself. It’s only human to feel that way about your own performance, and maybe complete satisfaction will only be achieved once your own standard is met, but it might be refreshing to know that we’ll enjoy it regardless!

Again, I love hearing your thoughts. Your responses don’t always need to meet that standard of “good enough”, and yet they never fail to make my day. You should think the same of your writing too! I guess what I’m trying to say is that nothing needs to be perfect—forms of self-expression and creative things especially. Us readers will appreciate anything you give to the community. It’s totally okay to feel the way you do about your work. I’m not saying you need to change your mindset or anything. Just don’t stress too much about things haha, writing is something to be enjoyed not only by the readers, but by the wonderful mind behind the work too. So so so much love being sent to you! You’re so strong for fighting and overcoming those demons that constantly get in the way

-🍒

oh my sweet, sweet 🍒 anon. every time i open my ask box and see a message from you i know my day is about to be made (it's 2:49am).

once again, i am so sorry for the delayed response. this time it's actually because i've been writing like crazy!! my newest fic is out!! ahhh!!

i just want to take a second to thank you for everything you've said in this ask and all the ones before it. you don't know it, but your words have helped me a lot in this process of getting back into the swing of things and fighting the writer's block demons (literally). i'm so serious when i say that this community is as beautiful and wonderful to be a part of because people like you exist. your messages are one of the very few highlights of my day whenever i receive them. so just as much as you appreciate my writing, i appreciate you for being you! living, breathing, existing.

thank you thank you thank you so much for everything, 🍒 anon! and if you read it, please let me know what you think about my latest fic!

all the love and more, always 🤍

[thisunpredictablelife]

A reintroduction?  I think so.  Next week I turn 45.  To keep me from throwing up at the thought, I thought I’d take the space in my day today to snag an updated headshot and spew some thoughts on the page.  I feel like I really have to mentally prepare for this birthday. Or maybe it’s less of a mental preparation and more of a reflection? Let’s be honest, we’re never the same person we were a year ago.  At least I hope most of us are not...

My name is Rachel Kallio, and I’ve been at the photography gig for a while now.  Yes, I grew up here in this small Nebraska town…no, I never thought I’d be back...and no, I will never regret a single step that took me in this direction and planted me exactly where I am.  I’m on year 13 of charging people to capture life’s big and small moments and while I can say I’m a much different person than I was 13 years ago, there is a core in me that will never change.  I love photography.  I love the art of it...I love the emotion behind it...I love learning about the lives of those on the other side of my camera...I love capturing that feeling...and I love the innocence of children and the challenge of thinking like one again.  That list keeps going... but I’ll save you from it ❤️.

Here are some of my truths at 45...

*I crave creativity. When I don’t make time for it outside of my work, I become a very frustrated  person.  I need live music, progressive mindsets, and things that challenge me to think differently than the day before. If I’m not growing, creating, and enjoying life’s art…I’m not becoming my best self.

*I am a firm believer in meditation…but my children are tired of hearing about it. I hate stress...and it's kiiiind of deadly, you guys. Do we not understand this yet? If we don't utilize ways to ease it, we'll stay on its vicious cycle like a never-ceasing Tilt-a-Whirl that’s not so amusing.  Sitting in a quiet space and clearing your mental baggage is like going to the gym to gain muscle mass.  MY favorite way to meditate? I sit in the steam sauna for 30-minutes and follow any of my go-to meditations. I top it off with a freezing cold shower. It's also the perfect way to zap that bad attitude...and my husband greatly appreciates this.

*I annoy myself. I will sit and think about things I’ve said or done and wonder why they came out of my mouth. This will never change. I won't lose sleep over them, but I will ask my husband 500 times if he thinks I offended someone or said something stupid. If you've been in a photo session with me...you may have even experienced those moments. Sometimes it's amazing I show my face again hahaha.

*My current parenting approach is telling my children to "solve the problem". We all make mistakes and we all get ourselves into positions we don't want to be in...but we do have to decide how to solve the problem. Therein lie the choices my children should now be able to make on their own after my flawless years of parenting. BAHAHAHA!! But for real, they should. I can't tell you my kids appreciate it when I say it. In fact, I know they just want to walk away or hang up the phone when I do...but I know it's the best advice I can give them.

*That leads me to....I AM HUMAN. I make mistakes. If I've ever told you I'd do something and you have radio silence for the week following, it's not because I'm ignoring you or won't do what I said or am annoyed by you. It's likely I just attached to one of the other 5 million things in my head and didn't make a note and circle back around. It's at that point you should not feel bad about following up. Recently, the six of us were out for a birthday dinner for my son and I read an email stating some sports buttons I had just delivered had the word soccer spelled "socer". First of all, I know....how does this happen?! Secondly, my kids had a lot of fun with this one. But lastly, I solved the problem and new buttons were delivered the next week. Yes, I'm still learning to not read emails at family dinners...but I can't tell you perfection is in my future.

*I am passionately in love with my husband and I'm not sure how I could have become who I am without him. Holy buckets of love...and respect...and laughter. He gets me. As whacko as it sounds, I don't even like going to Walmart without him. I'm still trying to figure out how Miss Independent over here became so darn dependent, but it's the healthy kind...so I guess it's okay? He might say differently.

*I am crazy proud of my four children...Sophia, Hattie, Nell and Jack...and I love them more than they can possibly imagine. Watching them grow into these amazing humans has been the most exciting (and terrifying) thing. We're only three years away from being empty nesters...but that's okay. I can't imagine a world where I wake up and don't have them living in our home, but I also can't imagine a world where I'm not excited to watch them go out and do incredible things.

*I love humility...and we need more of it. Stop comparing our children and relationships...stop sharing someone else's "why" when you probably don't know or understand it...stop thinking you, your family, or your child are better than the next one. Our world is more subjective than we sometimes want to believe. People like different art, different fashion, different styles, different personalities, different ways of doing things with the same result. Don't write off the ones that differ from yours. Accept the differences, stop the comparisons...and just embrace a humility that can spread like wildfire if we allow it to ignite. Good people look all sorts of ways and come from all different walks of life. Good art may be garbage to you...but make the next person feel things they've never felt.

Finally, I love my life. I could have focused on so many other things for this reintroduction, but I always know the things that get typed out when I write are the most important truths to share. I'm doing what I love with the people I love...and I can't ask for much more. Despite the gratitude and contentment for my life, I wake up every day wanting to do and BE better. What that looks like changes on any given day, but next year, when 46 rolls around...I hope I've learned even one more lesson to add to my list of experience.

Cheers to Friday... to the weekend...to spring ❤️.

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC Review: Silver Lady by Mary Jo Putney

3/5. 1`1/28/2023.

Vibes: light magic, amnesia, found family, and a generally fluffier touch.

After being adopted off the streets as a child, the paranormally gifted Bran Tremayne returns to Cornwall on commands from the Home Office. There, he meets the amnesiac Merryn, whose past could hold the key to the mystery he's investigating. Caught between threatening forces, Merryn has no choice but to trust Bran in her efforts to recover her memories and stop a dangerous plot.

This one was very.... meh. I could see the quality of the writing (to an extent--I have my quibbles) and I can definitely see how, for a reader who really loves fluffier books, this will fit the bill. While I can definitely get down with fluff, this took it a bit far for the basic premise, and I found it tonally jarring.

Quick Takes:

--Like I said, I can see that Putney (who I've never read before) has. a very distinct style, and it's clear why she's a popular, longstanding writer. There's a uniqueness to it, and she has a strong, distinct voice. If you like a really bouncy tone, this may be for you. And I did appreciate the aspects of found family; I'm a sucker for "group of kids taken off the street by a wealthy family", and this does execute that component well.

--The way the magic is woven into the story is quite light. Essentially, the former street kids all have these supernatural gifts, which are sort of like... overblown natural talents, with a paranormal edge. I didn't mind the paranormal being on the lighter side. It's definitely something you can see more of in old school books. But she definitely could've gone a little further (and a little more adventurous) with it.

--Part of why the paranormal aspect, and the general story, didn't quite hit for me was that the lightness of the tone really doesn't gel with the plot. You've got mystery, you've got magic. And while you can definitely take a light approach there, this is just. So light! At points, I felt like the subject matter warranted a bit more intensity, a bit more depth. It reminded me of some Julia Quinn books I've read, where it's like--this is kind of dark subject matter, and I think the writing needs to reflect that?

--Because of the generally shallow tone, the leads also come off as pretty flawless. For me, this is very boring. Everyone was really... to quote a show with a stronger paranormal edge, perfectly splendid. This made it so, while I could see Bran and Merryn's chemistry, I really didn't connect with them individually, or their romance.

--A random writing note: Putney uses "!" in a lot of places it really doesn't belong, especially in Merryn's dialogue. I found that kind of distracting.

The Sex:

It's present, but damn if it isn't very, very euphemistic. And you know, I enjoy some euphemistic writers, and I can definitely enjoy it when it's a part of, say, an 80s romance that has a generally flowery style. But in 2023, when you're writing a sex scene this flowery and this euphemistic (and brief) you really might as well just skip the whole scene and keep it closed door. Like, we're not even talking, like "knot of flesh", we are talking "her most sensitive place". I wasn't into it.

Again, I can see why Putney has loyal readers. The vibe just didn't work for me, and it's a shame, because I think the concept itself is so intriguing.

Thanks to Kensington and Netgalley for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD

PART 2 OF HEADS WILL ROLL

SYNOPSIS: Whenever school is in session, Eren will just keep finding new places to corner you.

PAIRING: BULLY! EREN x FEM! READER

DEDICATED TO: you guys, always you guys.

WARNINGS: unedited, slight dubcon, groping, degradation, bullying,

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Gooooood Morning Paradis Birds! Remember to give a big round of applause to the football team for clutching the victory against reigning champion Marley High! We stay undefeated thanks to our excellent and hardworking team. Special shoutout to Captain Eren Yeager for guiding the team to another flawless victory-

You're half-heartedly paying attention to class, sleepily listening to the school announcements over the speaker until the mention of his name douses you like a shock of ice-cold water.

You can't catch the rest of the announcement because your class erupts into cheer, enthusiastically clapping their hands for the boy of the hour.

The only one not joining is you.

Eren's smile is brighter than 100 kilowatts. In the back of your mind, you wonder where he learned to smile like that. When his emotions became so practiced.

Mr.Berner tries to calm the kids down, especially Sasha who bangs on her desks and howls, creating even more hype and ruckus. The class, now in a chattier mode, excitedly breaks into little conversations.

"Man, thank god. That school is so pretentious, I'm glad we finally have something over them."

"Jeez, I know our team was good, but it's this good-?"

"-Bro, year of XXXX is stacked as fuck. It's literally never been this stacked before. We have a whole team of prodigies, it's insane-especially Eren. "

"Yepp. My dad went to Paradis too and he said shit like this never happened during his time. The academic comps were one thing, but these footballs wins? We're being put on the fucking map."

The announcements are still going on, but it's hard to hear over the noise. You're only able to catch the tail end, a useless tidbit about the word of the day.

pre·mo·ni·tion a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Here is an example: "She had a premonition of imminent disaster" Have a good day folks, hope it's free of any premonitions!

Overhearing the unceasing praise of the boy who pinched your thighs until they bruise blue and purple was a little painful-but you were used to it. After all, he's putting Paradis on the map. Whatever the fuck that means.

While you didn't love sharing this class with him, he was seated far across the room and surrounded by a gaggle of friends. You might as well have been invisible, the way he did not acknowledge you. Maybe you should treat it as a small mercy.

Unwittingly, your eyelids grow heavy. You're sitting in the back of the class, no one would notice if you took a little nap right? Assured by the fact no one will notice, you lower your head into your folded arms and let your thoughts float.

You dream of vaguely nothing but shadows of smiles, tufts of dark hair, and the smell of the wind at sea until a noise confined to the shape of your name breaks the harmony.

"[y/n?]"

"[y/n?]"

You startle awake with pairs of eyes piercing their gazes at you. Swallowing thickly, you apologize to Mr.Berner who looks worried. He's a good teacher, and one of your favorites.

"I'm sorry Mr.Berner. I had a migraine so I laid my head down." You lie smoothly, with more grace than you knew you were capable of. Course, you could have just said you were taking an unprompted nap, but that would disappoint your lovely teacher.

He sighs, "Guess that can't be helped then. Go to the nurse ok?"

Bingo. The nurse was an understanding lady, she'd let you sleep the rest of the period off. You nod, and start to gather your materials, relieved the class' attention on you was beginning to dwindle.

"Wait, Mr.Berner, let me take her. What if she gets disoriented and falls in the hall?"

Fuuuuck. You should have known. You should have expected this because attached to the request dripping with faux concern was none other than the precious jewel of the kingdom. Eren's intrusion makes your peers perk up again at the scene unfolding in front of them.

You smile, lips tightly pressed, "I'll be fine. I don't want to distract anyone from the lesson and it's a short walk-

"It's still potentially dangerous.", Your teacher interrupts, pinching the bridge of the nose, "And while I'm completely surprised by Eren's sudden streak of altruism, he's right. Something could happen. He'll take you there safely."

A very convenient streak of altruism, all right. You think it over in your head, yeah the nurses' office is right down the hall, and once you're there, he'll leave. Sure, he'll taunt you but you can handle a few minutes worth of cruelty.

It's awkward getting up, and walking in front of the class while Eren props the door open like a gentleman. You know what a sharp contrast it must look like, you and him, you cowering into yourself, not meeting any eyes while he stands tall and confident.

"Do you have everything?" His tone is one of reassurance, and for the barest of the moments, feels too familiar. You know he's not being genuine right now, and for the first time, you question if he was genuine back then.

"You can hold onto my arm if you're too dizzy to walk." He says as you guys slip out of the classroom, purposefully a little too loudly. You hear coos from girls and a stray "She's so lucky!"

He must have heard it too, because he lowers his head to whisper into your ear, "Yeah, very lucky, aren't you?" Wisps of dark hair tickle your cheeks. You see the glint of tiny silver hoops and wonder when he had gotten his ears pierced. The illusion breaks and the performative charming prince's reassuring smile is replaced by a sneer.

"Didn't know you could lie like that, by the way. Some good girl you are if you're trying to ditch class like this." Fingers dig deep into your waist as he drags you along the empty hallway that seems to stretch on for miles.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, "How did you know I was lying?"

Viridian eyes narrow, "I've seen you get migraines before." There's a knock on your heart. As if realizing he was talking about something far away ago, a vindictive edge laces into words pouring out of his mouth, "I bet you wanted this to happen, didn't you? Wanted to get us all alone."

He's trying to get a rise out of you, that much is obvious. So you ignore him to the best of your ability.

...which quickly proved to be futile, as you suddenly find your arm pinned to your back, and your front facing the nearest walls.

"I asked you a fucking question bitch." He's practically growling, "Fucking answer me."

If there was a world record for the shortest temper, best believe Eren Yeager will have collected that accolade too. He's getting too worked up, and you could definitely feel his harness poking the back on your ass, as he grinds into you.

You manage to crane your neck, wanting to have your face shoved into the wall, and then venomously spit out, "You're not looking for answers. You just want me to repeat whatever you think is true."

This position brings back flashbacks to the library when he caged you in against the bookshelves, and like then, he spins you around to face him quite abruptly.

His smile is full of sharp teeth, "No. I know I'm right."

You don't respond. He moves in closer, his breath fanning on your earlobes. Your body can't help but let an involuntary shudder, and you close your eyes, not wanting to see his pleased grin or the way the fluorescent light makes his hoops gleam like silver bullets.

One calloused finger flicks your nipple, "Do you want to know why I'm right?"

At your lack of response, the dark-haired boy rolls your nipple in between his fingers before pinching it painfully, eliciting a small whimper out of your fuckable lips. "N-no", you answer finally. You're wearing your thinnest bra because of the seasonal heat, and you can't help but regret that decision right now. The fact he's only paying attention to one of your nipples is driving you insane. Not that you want it, but you're so fucking sensitive right now. You struggle in his hold, causing him to hold you tighter, and by now his nails were probably embedded into your skin.

He chuckles at your honesty, rewarding you with a thick stripe of his tongue over the collared shirt of your uniform making you gasp. Did he just-, over your shirt too-, you look down and see a very visible wet spot.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, a eager hand snakes under your skirt until it settles in the middle of your panties. He licks your earlobe before speaking, his voice like ice under your heels.

"You were so fucking wet that day in the library while saying you hated me the entire time," he pauses as his fingers scissor you through your panties, as if to drive the message home, "About as wet as you are right now."

There's a wet spot there too, also caused by him. You crush your eyes shut, "Eren...please just take me to the nurse." You're not even struggling anymore, holding onto him out of your own accord, worried that if you don't hold onto anything-you'd fall on your knees.

The very headache you lied about having seemed not so non-existent after all.

Eren hooks his arms under the plush of your thighs, "Yeah. Of course, that's what I came to do, right?"

*

You had hoped you'd be granted a reprieve in the nurses' office but you'd forgotten that luck was never really in your favor. Because while you guys had entered the squeaky-clean office, the nurse was nowhere in sight.

Instead, a note sat on her desk in unassuming frilly cursive that Eren read with glee.

Sorry students! Minor emergency to take care of, and I'll be back by the middle of the next period. If you're badly hurt, see Mr.Ackerman in room 203. If not, just sit tight! Feel free to take up the beds.

Thank you,

Ms.Ral

Eren had turned to you with shining green eyes, "Since no one's here, I guess I'll have to keep you company. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

There was something claustrophobic about how Eren stood in front of the door as if to signify to get out of here, you had to get through him.

"Maybe I can get Mr.Ackerman..."

Eren's sudden bout of laughter makes you wince and retreat inside of yourself, "For what? A fake headache? You really wanna inconvenience him like that? Mr.Ackerman?"

You take slow steps backward until the back of your knees hit the school bed, making you stumble as you clumsily take a seat. Eren's been marching forward with every retreating step you took, and it's no surprise when he pushes you down the bed, strong hands on the side of your head, while his muscular legs force your thighs apart so he can settle himself in between.

"We have some time to kill, you know." Strands of dark hair fall into his eyes, and without thinking, you reach upwards to brush them aside.

He grips your wrist before you make it that far, nearly gritting out a "What are you doing?"

You just stare, not really knowing why that was your impulse either. Finally, you mouth out, "I want you to leave Eren."

The grip on your wrist is tighter than ever, and you very well know that you're going to have new finger-shaped bruises before the old ones even finish healing.

"And I want to stay." He punctuates each word slowly, and all you can think is how being pinned to a bed is much less painful than having the hard surface of wood digging onto your back.

You're fully aware of the heat in your core, and having Eren on top of you doesn't make this it any easier because fuck, he is attractive. Maddeningly so. And maybe you want him to go away so bad because you're afraid that if his fingers are caught inside of you, you'll thank him for it.

As if reading your mind, he lets go of your wrist (making a mental note of your sluggish movements and slipping resistance) and massages your warm hole from your panties.

"Eren please" You grit out. He merely chuckles, "What are you asking for, whore?"

You could feel tears threatening to fall. This was so embarrassing. Did you want this? Yes, yes. yes, yes. You were so wet right now and had enough of the teasing.

He alternated his kneading from slow and soft to fast and rough, and you couldn't help but let out the prettiest little moans Eren's ever heard. Since you lose all pretenses of resistance, his other hand roughly brushes against your hardened nipples, straining against the fabric of your shirt.

Okay, he decided. He's going to make you beg.

"Beg." It's announced like a command, and while you hear it, you don't really register it because your hips are busy chasing the heat, and it's all too much of an utter disappointment when his long thin fingers leave.

"I said beg slut."

"Eren, please, please. I need you so bad." You're blubbering and you don't care. You just want his pretty fingers to shove aside your panties and rub against your folds. You think back to the library, how wet you were, how the stupid fucking phone call from his coach interrupted him pumping his fingers inside of you. And you didn't know if you were happy or mad he left. But now, all you crave is the blissful wave of pleasure- the very pleasure he's been denying you.

Eren looks down at you, green eyes scrutinizing. After a long while of what it seems to be him just staring, he wipes his fingers on your skirt, brushes back his hair with a wayward hand.

"Looks like I should head back to class. See you later."

Too numb to say anything, you watch him leave with a smirk on his face. When you're sure he's walked away, you curl into yourself and cry.

[etheries1015]

itto and reader stargazing <3

Your wish is my command, my dear friend

Itto X (GN!) Reader

Stargazing <3

TW: None! just fluff.

"Itto, Please!" You exclaimed to the Oni, shaking his arm back and forth, "Indulge me this once?" Looking up at him with bright puppy eyes.

"But (y/nnnn) He complained, returning the whiney tone you had given him, "Why should we lay down and stare at a bunch of...fire balls in the sky?!" He argued, "It would be SO much more fun AND cool to go hunting for more onikabuto or- or hanging with the Arataki gang! You know, the best-" He continued to go on and on about excuses not to do this one little thing for you. He made it a point that his "flawless haircut" would get riddled with bugs on the ground, things along those lines. Once he was done talking, your hands were crossed with a pout planted on your lips. You turned on your heal, and begin to walk away. "AND not to mention- hey hey hey wait! Where are you going?" He quickly stopped mid sentence, rushing to be by your side. You stopped in your tracks and looked at the ground, standing in silence for a few seconds before pulling out your ult card... "You know," You huffed, "COOL boyfriends would hang out with their significant others and do romantic things like stargazing. But I guess...my boyfriend just isn't cool enough." ... que the dramatic gasp of offense.

and that is how you were here at the top of starsnatch cliff, laying under the sky freckled with stars. "I still don't understand-" You quickly hushed him with a light punch to his shoulder, resulting in his mouth being shut immediately. You turned onto your side to face him, a frown making its way towards your lips. "It's...about enjoying the moment with your significant other," you shuffled to sit up, staring back at the sky, "it's beautiful, isn't it?" You inquired Itto, who still lay staring at the sky absent mindedly. "I...guess it kinda is," He muttered, before a mischievous smirk took place of his pout. He turned to face you, leaning his elbow on the ground to prop his head up, "you're more beautiful, though!" He chuckled, watching your face turn a slight shade of pink. "Itto!" You punched his arm once again, "Come on, i'm serious here!" you protested his flirting. His chuckle turned into a content smile, turning his head back to the sky full of stars. "I know you're serious, and I am too. I would rather spend the entire night looking into your eyes then the sky," He said. You were speechless, has he always been this...romantic type flirt?

once again, the both of you sat in silence. Without saying a word, Itto wrapped his strong arms around your waist, letting you know he wanted you to lay down. You rest next to his warm body, his arm used as your headrest. You were content in this, breathing in the calm air while gazing at the night sky next to your loving boyfriend. Although, knowing Itto, the silence wouldn't last very long. "Hey, (y/n)," He said, no longer in his normal playful tone, "What makes this so special to you? I mean, you've always had a thing for stars and the sky since i've met you. I just wanna know what makes them so...cool."

As the night rolled along with the two of you contently chatting in each others arms, you had eventually fallen asleep under the protection of your boyfriend. Itto had planted a light kiss on the top of your head, before looking back at the stars that stare over both of you. While sitting in your company, he had made a mental note to do this again sometime...

[non-binaryzombie]

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔠𝔨

Summary: Jake is a little bit obsessed with you, he needs to know more about you, going beyond what you show on the internet, but his biggest problem now is making you understand that he owns you, and that no one is taking you away from him.

Characters: Jake x reader (a little bit of Darkness too cuz, you know that I love him)

Warnings: Yandere Jake, stalking, possessiveness, lovesick, obsession, not exactly a happy ending, angst, language, use of straw (sorry turtles)

Word count: 2672

A/N: Here it is! I hope you don't hate me for it, I changed the name to fit more with the story, but the context is the same :)

(Most of my pics/gifs come from Pinterest, if I use a photo that belongs to you and you don't like it, please contact me and we'll take care of it)

Fascinating, that's the word Jake would use to describe you if he had to, he could spend hours trying to decipher you, trying to understand how are you able to like him without even seeing his face, without even knowing who he really was? You just know what he allows you to, but you've never been nosy, if you ask something to him and he says that he can't tell you, you just put it aside, not wanting to bother; and that's one of the things he most admires in you, the fact that you're so curious and yet, when he doesn't want to tell you something, you just try to let it go, making a mental note about the things you shouldn't ask, at least not over the phone.

Ever since you helped Jake to find Hannah, he've been more and more interested in you, how did you manage to help him to find his half-sister, and at the same time made him fall in love with you? Something he never thought would happen, suddenly from a time to another, he saw himself in love with someone who he thought be just someone that would help him to find his sister, just a means to an end.

But now, here he is, watching you from the window of the café you're in, he knows that he shouldn't, what would you think if you found out that he've been following you? He is pretty sure that 'happiness' would not be the right feeling, but he had no choice, he wanted- no, he needed to know more about you, and this time the internet wouldn't help him, for some reason you're really reserved, unlikely the most people at your age, you have social medias, of course but you rarely post something about yourself at them, the most interesting thing that the hacker could find about you was your school records and not surprisingly your track record is perfect, you never got bad grades, you never got into trouble, you are simply flawless. It makes him question, it's impossible for someone to be so perfect, you're sweet, kind, innocent and you always want the best for everyone no matter how bad someone has done you; you always forgive them. But you have flaws, everyone has, and that's what he's trying to find out, what are you hiding from everyone? And how are you so good at hiding it?

His blue eyes getting darker when he sees you hugging a man, who is he? And why do you look so happy to see him? You two talk a little before sitting down in one of the tables close to the window, the waitress soon come and both of you place your orders. The black-hair boy on the outside quickly grab his phone, sending you a message, just a 'Hi Y/N :)' waiting to see if you're going to answer him, he sees you pick up the phone and look at it for a few seconds before putting it back in your your pocket, did you just ignore his message? Okay, now he has no other choice then go inside.

And there he goes, entering the place and thankfully he could seat somewhere that you couldn't see you, but he could listen to everything, pretending to be doing something important on the phone. He orders a black coffee, nothing more. Soon you and the tall man started to talk while he paid attention to every single word.

"I am glad that we were able to meet, Y/N" he says with a grin on his face

"Wow, you really talk like this even in person, I thought that it was just you way to text" a giggle escaped your lips

"What do you mean?" he tilted his head

"You just, talk like you are in a really important dinner with the queen" you say resting your cheek against your hand while looking at him

"I think I never stopped to notice the way I speak, is this a nuisance for you?" he asked and you quickly shacked your hands

"Oh, no! That's not what I meant, I happen to like it, actually" he looked relieved

"You are really observant aren't you?" you smiled

"You'd be surprised how many times I've heard this" the girl came back with your orders and you thanked her with a gentle smile

"So, I haven't seen you in the forum lately" he took a sip of his latte

"Of course you've noticed" you giggle playing with your milkshake straw "I should have predicted" he let out a light laugh through his nose

"Is there a especial reason for that?"

"Well if I am being honest, lately I have been too tired to even scroll through the forum" you looked down playing with your fingers on the table

"It’s okay, you don't have to talk if you don't want to" he said putting his hand next to yours

"No, it’s just-" a sight left your mouth "Do you ever feel that everything around you is slowly becoming tiresome? How if the slightest effort to follow your routine makes you tired?" he nodded, you are not sure if he really understands you, or if he is just trying to make you feel better, but you continue "But for a few seconds, something makes you step out of your comfort zone, makes you hope again, but then it ends and everything becomes monotonous and boring again" you didn't even realized that your fingers are now entwined with his, you feel your face turn red and quickly let go of his hand "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you" the hand that was holding his is now between your legs pressed against the soft upholstery of the seat you are on, and the other on the straw of your milkshake bringing it to your mouth.

"You don't have to apologize, Y/N, it’s okay you know that you can trust me" he said straightening his posture

"Yeah, I know, Dark, and I thank you for that, but I don't really want to bother you with this, we're here to have a good time" you smiled, and he nodded

"Let's chance the topic then. How about the guy you told me about? Are you two a couple?" you felt your face turn red again

"Jake? Well, not exactly, it's complicated" 'Not exactly? Of course, we are a couple' the hacker thought with himself

"Complicated?" Darkness asked encouraged you to continue

"Hum, none of us really made a official dating request, y'know?" Jake never thought about it that way, he really has to put a ring in your finger for you to know that you are his?

"But you like him, don't you?" he looked straight into your eyes, like he was trying to guess what was happening in your head

"Yeah, we haven't said 'I love you' yet, but, I really like him, and I think that he likes me too, it's just..." you paused lettings out a sigh "He is not really good at showing how he feels, he is not good at talking at all" you giggle

"Then why don't you take the first step?" he asked confused

"I'm afraid of being rejected." the man sitting in front of you looked surprised, so did the one sitting behind you

"Why would he reject you? You are amazing, anyone would be lucky to have you." a shy smile appears on your lips

"I just, don't think he has time for a relationship, he's constantly busy and moving, because of work" you completed

"Well, this is really a misfortune, but you know I'll always be here for you, don't you?" he said picking your hand

"Yes, I know, and I can say the same to you" he gave you a smirk "Why are your hands so big?" he laughed

"You really know how to change the subject very quickly don't you?" you smiled at him.

The man sitting in the table behind you got up putting the money on the table and got out of the café as fast as he entered, what made him bump into someone that he quickly ignored making his way back to the motel he was staying at, he was angry, how dare this random guy even touch you? Say that he's going to be there for you, you don't need anyone else, you have him, you may don't know it, but you are his, he always makes time to talk to you, and now you say that it’s not enough? You even dare to consider that he's going to reject you? What more he needs to do for you to be sure that he wants a relationship with you? When he finally arrived at his room, he slammed the door shut, sitting in front of the computer, trying to calm down, breathing heavy. He knows exactly what he must do for you to know that you belong to him.

You threw yourself on the bed, with a smile on your face, the day with Darkness was better than you expected, he is not all serious personally, or you just have the ability of making him less keyed up, your phone buzzed on your pocket and you grab it quickly not so surprising it was Jessy 'Hey, how was your little date?' you giggled after answering her 'Not a date Jessy, but it was really good to be honest' Jessy was incredibly supportive when you said you were going to meet your forum-friend 'I'll want to hear everything about it tomorrow' ' Don't worry, I'll tell you everything'. Soon you remembered that Jake texted you early and dialed his number wondering whether or not to call him, you bite your bottom lip before working up your courage, clicking the green button and bringing the cell phone to your ear, settling down on the bed, you start to wonder if this is a good idea right away thinking about just hanging up and pretending it was an accident, but as soon as the call is answered you feel your body tense up.

"Hum, hi" you say shyly "Sorry I haven't texted you earlier, I was kinda busy"

"It's okay" his deep voice make your whole-body shiver "How are you?" he asked

"I'm good, how about you?" why do you feel so awkward?

"Good" he says and keeps silent 'god, why is it so hard?' you thought while trying to think something to say

"I-" you are interrupted by his voice

"What were you doing?" he asked, and you frowned your eyebrows

"What?"

"You said you were busy, what with?" you blinked a few time before answering him

"I went out with a friend" you said and heard a 'hum' coming from him on the other side of the phone "Are you mad?" you asked apprehensively

"Why would I be?" his voice makes you feel butterflies in your stomach

"I don't know, we haven't talked the whole day, and you seem, rough" he sighed

"It wasn't my intention, I’m sorry"

"Don't worry" you heard someone knock at the door

“Oh, wait a minute there’s someone at the door” you said getting up, and walking towards the noise opening it, just to see a black hair boy standing there, with his phone on his ear

"okay" he said before giving you a little smile, your eyes widened and you felt your body freeze

"Jake?" you ask and he nods, that's all that he needs to do to see you quickly hug him tight, he looked a little surprised but then he just wrap his arms around you, feeling the good smell of your hair, you two stayed there for a while hugging in the doorway.

When you finally looked up at him your eyes were full of teas, happiness tears, but that didn't stop Jake of push the tears away

"What are you doing here? I thought you were with Lilly" you said pulling him inside and closing the door

"I've come to see you" he said looking at you

"You could have warned me, you know, I would have at least organized this a little bit" you say scratching the back of your neck shyly

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise" he says putting his backpack on the sofa "And it's not that messy at all" you two sat on the bed, your face is so red it looks like you're going to explode

"I have something for you" he says taking a little box of his pocket, opening it and revealing two rings your eyes widen and you quickly look up at him

"Are you serious?" you ask and he nods

"So, what do you say?" he smiles

"Jake, I-I don't know..." his smile disappeared and he looked at you confused

"What?" that's what you wanted a ring, an official request, wasn't it? Then why are you rejecting him?

"It's just- I like you, I really do!" you say as you see his reaction

"Then why don't you want to be with me?" he looks sad

"That's not what I said, I mean, you're wanted Jake, by FBI and by another hackers, I know that there's a lot of things that you don't tell me, I know that you're just trying to protect me but, I can't keep in the dark just trusting that you are doing the right thing" no, he's not sad, he's angry, he closed the box tightly, making you flinch

"Okay, look I don't need a fucking ring to prove that we are together, I just bought it because that's what you wanted, you are mine, and I don't care who the fuck is coming after me, I won't let anyone be on our way, you don't have to worry about it" you blinked a few times trying to process what he just said, he sighed putting his hand on your cheek "I love you, Y/N" he smiled again

"I'm not a pet, Jake, you don't own me" you took his hand off

"I think you should leave now" you said looking away

"I won't leave you" he said firmly

"Are you even listening to yourself?!" you said getting up "This is not love, Jake" he got up standing in front of you, the difference between your highs makes you feel intimidated

"I am lovesick, Y/N, can you blame me?" he says getting closer making you step back "I can't stop thinking about you everything that you say or do makes me love you more, I want you, I need you, why can't you understand that?" you now see yourself trapped between him and the wall behind you

"You're not lovesick, you're just sick, you are fucking obsessed! I would never be with someone who acts the way you're acting right now" instant regret

"If I can't have you, no one can, and I'll make sure of that, my love" he muttered taking his cell phone out of his pocket and showing it to you, your eyes widened

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Let him go!" Darkness was tied to a chair with a cloth over his mouth, he didn't look hurt

"I'll let him go, when you accept to stay with me, otherwise, I'll kill him." you can feel the tears wetting your face

"You sick motherfucker" he pretended to be hurt

"You better choose your words better Y/N, I can kill him in just a snap" you looked at the picture again

"Fine, just let him go" he grinned as he put his cell phone away, he took the rings again and offered them to you, you looked at him before picking the ring and put it on your finger, he did the same

"You won't regret it, my love" he says pulling you closer and kissing you 'I already did' you thought with yourself.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

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[yourheartonfire]

It's almost Halloween, so here's some (checks notes) f/f princess romance? I dunno. Enjoy!

There was no time to arrange a tete a tete; no correspondence that would go unread, no servant that could be trusted with the message. 

Still, Rose found her footsteps turning towards the Ivy Bower at 9pm sharp, unfashionably early for trysting on a summer's eve ball.

And there, waiting for her on a stone loveseat under the arches, was Arch Principessa Maximillia. Glowering.

Rose swallowed and curtseyed, just a bit deeper and longer than was entirely appropriate for one royal to a higher ranking royal of another country. 

"Princess Rosalie,"  the Principessa drawled, voice frosty against the warm breeze, her fingers shredding a poor leaf into precise strips. "I am given to understand our engagement has been broken."

Rose resisted the urge to curtsey again in apology. In an effort to hide her face. "Indeed, Arch Principessa. His Royal Majesty my brother deeply regrets that negotiations did not go as we had all hoped..."

"Your brother regrets?" repeated the other princess slowly. "Is that all you came here to say to me?"

Rose opened her mouth... and nothing came out. There was no etiquette for this moment, no carefully rehearsed script. Last night Rose had screamed at her brother, had thrown things. "You can't do this!" she'd howled, heedless of who could hear. "You can't order me to fall in love and then change your mind!"

The king had not called for servants or guards, but let her rage until she wore herself out, weeping in the wreckage of his sitting room. It wasn't much kindness, but it was something from him. "I never told you to fall in love with her," was all he said before he left to go send the appropriate messages to the right people.

Now, in a starlit garden designed for romance, Rose had no words left.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You are the worst person I've ever met in my life," the Arch Principessa hissed. "And I've met some real winners."

"Max, please," Rose said helplessly. She was supposed to settle this situation. That was her job, to soothe, to placate, to smooth her brother's political paths.

"Don't 'Max' me!" her would-be fiancee snarled, standing to shake bits of shredded leaf and flower petals from her golden skirts. "You made me think you actually loved me-"

"I do!" Rose cried before she could stop herself.

"-and then it turns out you're nothing but..." Max pulled up short mid-tirade, visibly derailed as her brain caught up with her ears. "You what?"

Rose clasped her arms around herself. This was not the right way to make a graceful and firm exit from a political alliance. "I love you," she said to the paving stone between them. "The last two months of our courtship have been the best moments of my life. This is breaking my heart."

Max flung out her arms, heedless of the gold and silver bracelets tangling on her wrists. "Then why are you doing this?"

Rose blinked. "Why am I... ?  Are you an idiot?"

The Arch Principessa actually snapped her mouth shut in shock. Rose was too angry to care. "You think I have any say in this?" she cried. "I'm an extra royal, nothing but another expensive body to dress and feed until I go marry whomever they deign most politically valuable. I thought I was so lucky when I liked you. When I..." Rose made a helpless gesture.

"Loved me?" Max finished for her. Rose shrugged and Max buried her face in her hands. "And how was I supposed to know that, Rosie? You are the most infuriating woman I've ever met. Oh yes," she said at Rose's startled look. She stalked closer, eyes gleaming in the starlight. "The flawless Rosalie, who speaks in nothing but the most banal of court pleasantries. It's like talking to a book on manners and elocution."  

"Oh," Rose gulped, heart breaking all over again. How arrogant and foolish, to assume Max - to assume the Arch Principessa felt the same. "I'm sorry, I-"

A hand curled under Rose's chin, turning her flushed face upwards to the light and the Arch Principessa's hawklike gaze.

"But every now and then you let me see a flash of something more, something real," Maximillia said softly. She swallowed. "I was so afraid this morning, when I received the notice, that it had all been some masterful performance I'd been stupid enough to fall for."

Rose seized Maximillia's hand, pressed it to her flushed face.

"Not a lie, I swear," she said with a hiccupy laugh. "You fell for me?"

Max's eyes burned. "Heart and soul."

And then their lips met and Rose was soaring.

"Run away with me, princess," Max murmured some time later when they came up for breath.

Rose nestled closer into her beloved's arms. "Anywhere," she whispered back. "Let's go."

[farfarawaygirl]

Hello! For once you've seen the ep : what did you think of THAT development for Tim? What does it all mean??

I've sat with my thoughts a while, and I have a lot to say.

First, there has been some great discourse around this topic already, and I think both @doomedship and @siahana have pointed out some really good and valid things! Be sure to check out their posts.

Second, I just want to say and acknowledge that I really miss Tim Bradford from Season 1 and 2. There has been a shift in writing for him, that takes away so much of what made him a compelling character. His anger has been replaced with some type of flawless all-knowing perfection that diminishes the organic journey he had as Lucy changed him while he was her TO. Present Tim has lost a lot of his grit, and even in how his house has changed and is now more devoid of character than the first iteration, so is he.

Also - quick side note - IS NOLAN EVEN IN SCHOOL ANYMORE?

If you are a seasoned TV show shipper you will recognize the classic cliche being used here of a mysterious side character popping up, and stealing the attention of a character that viewers firmly thought were attached elsewhere. We saw it on Bones, on Chicago Fire, and even previously on The Rookie - which is why this feels like a repeat. Because it either is (RIP Rachel in NYC) or Ashley is here for a safe, off-screen, Isobel look alike girlfriend for Tim. That is icky on a few levels.

It could be a similar situation to Lucy and Tanner - remember the LAFD guy who said he'd be back in her orbit? Apparently neither do the writers. But - we don't know!

Writing like this pisses me off - at best because it usually presses on characters insecurities in a way that is never resolved, or at worst makes characters act OOC, and reminds me that often times viewers love and cherish characters so much more than show runners and writers who actually get to make them move.

It is less clear here if Ashley will even be mentioned again, because Tim asked if the idea of dinner was okay, and did not 'make plans'. That too is OOC for Tim who does not like grey space. Ambiguous plans are the greyest of grey spaces, and you bet he would have time and place planned before he even thought of asking someone out.

I just feel like what was the point of Tim being worried for Lucy on her UC stint, or asking her dance, or hugging her, if he is just going to date a Isobel look alike, and never ever touch base on those big important things again? What was the point of the struggle to get Lucy and Tim to come together as Sergeant and Aide if they never actually ride together, and we never actually see their growth? What was the point of their witty banter about being a boy and a girl, if we don't even know if they see each other off shift? We had more in previous seasons where Lucy was pulling Tim out of his shell, and he was testing her safety.

What was the point of all the marketing? Using the #chenford tag, and making all viewers believe something was happening there? There is a ever widening disconnect here, and it gets more and more uncomfortable as the season moves forward.

Chenford still has potential, and I still want them to happen in a way that is borderline obsessive, but a slow burn involves heat. It involves continual heat, and not this wishy washy focus and then nothing. The writers here keep on turning off the heat, or removing Chenford from the element altogether, which is frustrating as a viewer and has made season 4 choppy.

Starting off this season I allowed some leeway for what had happened with Titus leaving and having to refocus and regroup. We are passing that leeway right about now, and I am left underwhelmed by a ship I adore.

But, there is a lot that is feeling off for me for The Rookie this season. The cast continues to be wonderful, but I am sad that are given this writing...

There are too many characters, sorry Wes! And Bailey is like an onion - you keep on getting layers, and they just make you cry harder. I don't know why they upped Jenna to a regular, and I don't understand her value buy in for the show. I miss the tightly written episodic tv we had in season 1 and 2.

Of course, we have 3 episodes left before the mid season break, and this is an opportunity for the writers to TURN THE BEAT AROUND, and, who knows? We may all see an overarching theme when they do. However, Retconning is not clever, and I am nervous about how they are going to handle Tim's backstory and his family. Especially if Ashley is around.

We do have 22 episodes this season, but that to me is all the more reason not to have filler episodes. We want the story! The Fandom for this show is collectively very smart, and able to see nuance, that should make the writers up their game, not play it safe. Risky choices are very different from dumb writing decision though, and we will absolutely see that. See the response to episodes 1-present; we all appreciate the little things, but are aware of the lack of central focus.

I have more thoughts about Lucy, and Nolan, but that is a whole other post.

please, please interact about this! Send messages and asks, leave comments - keep the tag vibrant, and continue to share how the story is or isn't connecting with you. Understanding more viewpoints makes story so much better!

Just a reminder, you can like a thing and be critical about it! You can watch a show and miss how things used to be. There is a dangerous trend of anonymous people trying to gatekeep the Chenford Tag, and as human beings you always have the ability to scroll past a post, but you do not the ability to tell someone if their comment belongs in the tags (unless, its obviously not related to Chenford in any way! Common Sense isn't so common here sometimes!)