#She was barely used for books and now the plot is trying to catch up with her and it feels off

[onaperduamedee]

I finished reading Nynaeve's Aes Sedai testing and this chapter is bugging me: for a culmination, it's a clunky conclusion to Nynaeve's arc. Nyn is a pragmatic even when she's prideful: it feels odd that her big moment of warning the Aes Sedai about their connection to the world would come to the surface in a test that's very much made up.

The point of the test is to show she can keep her head under stress, which she did. The AS were dicks about technicalities, as always, but it's in these circumstances that Nyn would point out their isolationism and not in Kin dealing for example?

And there's the matter of why she wants to be Aes Sedai: Nyn doesn't care about that recognition from Aes Sedai, she still would be able to channel without it, and she's doing it to help Egwene's position, but she also explicitly says wants to be Aes Sedai.

Why? Is it because despite all their flaws the AS' initial purpose to serve all is strongly in line with her value of community? Probably, but we don't get that explicitly. We only get this middle ground where she's both invested in and rejecting this group.

I feel like this chapter would not feel like 3 different important Nyn plot points (testing, isolationism condamnation and Lan's bond) jammed into a chapter if the books had deigned giving her an actual arc that's not about helping Rand or Lan after the BA hunt and ter'angreal search.

Both RJ and BS love writing detailed dives into the psychology of the characters except Nyn for the last few books and it's really frustrating. The chapter in itself is quite nice, but it's the crystallisation of my dissatisfaction with Nyn's arc.

The reason why no one but Nyn could have delivered that judgement about AS is that in some ways Nyn is a reflection on the Aes Sedai's inner tensions on a micro and individual level: as a Wisdom, she holds a position of power and knowledge. Yet she fights constantly for respect and appears a bully with too much pride and too little awareness to others. She's fiercely anchored in her beliefs. Once you go on a systemic level with these elements, you get the Aes Sedai. Nyn grows, the Aes Sedai very slowly.

So this character who is all about people and healing, and still says she wants to be Aes Sedai, a rot of a public service, pretty much washes her hands of them and doesn't even work with the Kin, the actual more functional Aes Sedai entity she dreams of?

In the end, it's merely frustration because her character started as the most fascinating but ends up on the back-burner by book 8. Arcs that should have been hers are just featuring her, like the cleansing and the Kin. She has key moments but the connective tissue or word count isn't there, like a tertiary character like Siuan is used. The result is something like this chapter that feels surface level for a main character, especially in comparison with other main.

[surielstea]

Jealous Girl

Based on this request.

Paring: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader gets jealous over a girl flirting with Azriel at the pleasure hall.

Warnings: fluff, slight insecurities, one use of ‘y/n’

2.8k words

I was plotting murder. I didn't even know the girl's name, but I knew she was touching Azriel's arm, giggling at every word he said, and gods— the way she looked up at him with those overfamiliar blue eyes like she didn't know what she was doing made me sick.

And he just let her.

I was enraged, beyond furious— I could barely get control of myself if it weren't for Cassian beside me, distracting me by talking my ear off.

Rita's was packed tonight, so when Azriel offered to go get me a drink I didn't deny it, he knew I wouldn't want to get into that mess of a crowd at the bar so he went by himself. Cassian and I stayed behind but that damned blonde couldn't keep her hands to herself and it was going to drive me mad.

"And they acted like I took down an entire city— it was one building!" Cassian groaned and I nodded along to whatever he was saying, my mind entirely too focused on the shadow singer located at the other side of the pleasure hall. "So I'm not allowed at the Summer Court anymore," Cassian sighed, scratching his jaw with a defeated expression and I dipped my head absentmindedly. "Are you alright? You haven't said anything since Az left," He prods my shoulder and I blink, my eyes refocusing on the large male in front of me instead of the one across the room.

"Uh, yeah just was thinking it'd be nice to visit Adriatta, I've never been," I shrug, my quick lie making him narrow his eyes on me.

"You sure?" He leans closer and I mirror it with a step back. My gaze flicks to Azriel for a fraction of a second before going right back to Cassian. He was still talking to that girl— or she was talking to him, he was just listening. "Oh, I see what this is about," Cassian smiles broadly, staring right at the duo I was trying so hard not to gain the attention of.

"Cass," I grumble, pulling him away from the two at the bar and facing the other side of the hall, backs turned toward the shadow singer.

"You're jealous," He croons and I avoid his gaze, knowing if I looked at him he'd be able to read me like an open book. So instead I looked down at my ankles where Azriel's shadows twined.

"I don't get jealous," I scoff, crossing my arms. He chuckles mischievously.

"Envious then?" He surmises and I playfully punch him in the shoulder before muttering, "There's nothing to be jealous over, Azriel can do whatever he wants."

"Even if he wants a particular blonde?"

"Well don't make it worse!" I whine and he only laughs at my reaction, making me groan in exasperation.

"He's made it clear enough that he doesn't want me," I murmur, shadows slipping up to my thighs and the Illyrian beside me bumps his shoulder with mine reassuringly.

"Az tells me the same shit about you," He claims and I look up at him with narrowed brows.

"Last time you intervened on me and Az's friendship, he and I didn't talk for a week," I remind and Cassian smiles proudly.

"And now you're stronger than ever, seems like you should take my advice more often," He crosses his arms over his chest defensively. I turn my head slightly to look at the blonde, this time I catch a glimpse of her face. I swore I'd seen her before, but I couldn't quite place where from.

"Does it make you mad he's talking to her?" Cassian taunts from beside my ear. "Letting her touch him?" He sings and I push the Lord of Bloodshed away in frustration as he cackles, his raucous laughter slowly fading as I march my way through the crowd, which divided in sight of Azriel's silky shadows swirling from my arms as if they were mine to control.

I pushed my way past grinding bodies until I managed to land right beside the Spymaster. His hazel eyes met my own and a soft smile spread over his lips. I joined his side and his arm came around my waist as if it were meant to fit there, slotting perfectly in place. I met the face of the blonde girl and it clicked that face, I knew her.

"Y/n!" The girl squealed and I blinked in slight surprise.

"Misha?" My brows raise a fraction.

"My gods, I haven't seen you since the healing camps, how have you been?" She gasped and I looked up at Azriel who was staring at the both of us confused.

"Oh my gods, are you two like a thing?" Misha asks excitedly.

"Oh, we're—" Azriel starts.

"Engaged," I finished for him, the lie coming so easily it shocked us both. Her jaw drops. Misha had always been better than me, at everything. When we were training to become healers she always had to be one step ahead, always had to go above and beyond while I was struggling to meet my deadlines. She was pretty and fun, and for once, I just wanted to be above her, to feel that power she must feel at a constant— and if that meant lying about my relationship status with one of the hottest men on the continent, so be it.

"Let me see the ring!" She squealed, happy for me. I hated that. She didn't seem to have an envious bone in her body, and why would she? She was the ideal emulation of perfection. For her, there was nothing to be jealous of.

"Oh I don't have it on me, Az here loves his secrets being spymaster and all so I don't wear it out," I pat his abdomen with a feigned smile, and he flexes under my touch.

"Giving her a ring is like putting a target on her back," Azriel plays along, I hadn't expected him to, honestly I was hoping he'd just stand there and nod and not say anything but this was so much better.

"Awe isn't that just precious," She smiles, a natural blush coming to her pale cheeks. "I'm still waiting to find the one," She sighs. "You're lucky you came over or I would've tried to swoop him up!" She giggled light-heartedly and I matched it, but it was fake, gods I wanted to claw her face off.

"No, no he's all mine," I sigh contentedly, leaning into his side while his grip on my waist tightened.

"When'd you know she was the one?" She directs at Azriel and I swallow thickly. The Shadow Singer was a good liar, but would he lie if only to play this game with me?

"I've always known, the moment I met her my Shadows practically mummified her, so I suppose they were the ones to tell me," Azriel says, his story reigned true, I can still remember how embarrassed he was, repeatedly swearing that they had never done that before when the Dark clung to me without resistance. Those same shadows now pooled at my feet. "And it was kind of hard to not fall from there," He adds and I look up at him, only to see him already staring down at me. Gods he was good at this role, he slipped so easily into it— if I didn't know any better I'd think we were actually engaged.

"You guys are adorable, I can only dream of having a male like you," She sighs and I grit my teeth. Was she seriously hitting on him after I just told her were to be married?

The bartender places a lone fruity drink down in front of the three of us and Misha takes it with a bright smile. "It was nice catching up with you, we should totally hang out sometime," She offered and I pinch my lower lip between my teeth.

"I'm kind of busy with all this wedding stuff, maybe after," I shrug, giving her the hint that I wanted nothing to do with her beyond this interaction.

"Right, keep me updated," She flashes a smile and leaves with a wink toward Azriel as she leaves.

"What was that?" Azriel murmured as soon as she was out of earshot. I unraveled my arm from his torso and he did the same with my waist. I shrugged.

"She doesn't deserve you," I mumbled, leaning against the bar.

"She seemed nice enough for a night," Azriel hummed and I rolled my eyes.

"I know Misha, you don't want a girl like her," I shake my head. The bartender places two glasses in front of me. I take the one on the left, the drink I always ordered.

"You really hate her huh?" He leans closer, taking his drink.

"She fucked my boyfriend while we were still dating," I grumbled. "Seemed like she wanted to fuck you too after I told her we were engaged, she hasn't changed," I huff and his brows rise a fraction.

"It's kind of fun playing the role of your fiancé," He says, his chin propping up onto my head as his hands snake around my waist. I smile.

"What's your ex-boyfriend's name, just for reference?" He said and I giggled.

"You're not killing him," I warn, turning around to face him, my back to the bar and my chest to his.

"A light torture," He shrugs.

"Your version of light torture is another males hell," I reason.

"So why'd you lie? About us being together?" He asks, head tilting. I twist my lips to the side.

"She's always been ahead of me, I wanted to win for once," I grumble, sounding pitiful aloud.

"Ahead of you how?" He questions and I frown, not wanting to say it.

"I don't know, she's prettier than me," I grumble.

"Lies, you're the prettiest girl in the whole wide world," He reasons and I scoff, shaking my head with a small smile.

"You don't have to do that," I excuse. "Do what?"

"Lie in order to make me feel better, it's fine, really," I argue with him but I swear it went in one ear and out the other.

"I'm not lying," He denies.

"But you are making me feel better?" I question.

"You tell me." He smiles and I don't reply, because he was, and I didn't want to give him that ego boost. "So you think she's prettier— which she's not, what else?" He arches a brow and tilts his head. I shrug, avoiding his gaze.

"Cass says I'm jealous," I exhale, crossing my arms over my chest and looking up at him with a pout.

"Of what?" His hand comes to my cheek, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw as if of was a casual movement.

"The way she looked at you, how you let her touch you," I explain and his gaze softened.

"I'm the one touching you now, right?" He surmises, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as I continue to scowl up at him.

"It was different Az, you were flirting with her. I could see it," I rolled my eyes and he only smiled.

"And what are we doing now?" He questioned. If he was waiting for me to admit to whatever this was between us, I wasn't going to.

"A friendly conversation," I shrug and he leans down, closer to me. I press back into the counter behind me.

"I think pinning you to the bar is anything but friendly," He concludes. "That's normal for us."

"Why do you think that is?"

I don't answer. He's trapped me into recognizing what I refused to so I don't say anything at all. It was devastatingly obvious that I wanted him, did he have to rub salt in the wound? "You want to get out of here?" He asks after a moment of silence. I swallow thickly and settle over the fact that this is my chance, and perhaps my only one if I don't take it. So I nod, and he takes my hand.

The walk home was silent, Azriel offered to fly us back but I preferred to walk along the Sidra, it was quiet enough at this time of night to be able to hear the crickets chirping and the frogs croaking. It was peaceful, and the night breeze always patched up whatever had been broken in the past few weeks. It was refreshing and peaceful and everything I needed.

The steps to my apartment were in sight when I finally got the courage to speak.

"Cassian was right, I was jealous," I confess and his brows raise a fraction, his gaze sliding to me with curious eyes. "I just, I want you to look at me the way you looked at her," My confession knocks me off balance, if he had a reaction I didn't notice.

"I don't," He says curtly and I blink, slightly taken aback. "I looked at her like that because she was a stranger, I never want you to be unfamiliar," He explains and my heart pounds against my ribs so hard I thought they might break.

I stop at the first step of my apartment, freezing in place due to his confession. "Are you blushing?" He teased when I turned to face him and even with my advantage of the first step, he still stood a few inches taller than me.

"Shut up," I grumble, pressing my hands to my face to hide myself from his piercing stare.

"Are you going to make me?" He grabs my wrists and takes my hands from my face, revealing that he has leaned so much closer. "Hm? Fiancée?" He jeers and my blush deepens in color.

"You're never letting that go, are you?" I sigh, slinging my arms around his neck, still trying to grasp the fact that he was so close, that he was willing to be so close.

"Not ever," He shakes his head, his eyes flicking down from my eyes to my lips, then right back to my eyes so fast I would've missed it if I blinked. My breath catches in my throat but neither of us makes a move to pull away, just remain inches away, wondering if the other will do what we've been dancing around all this time.

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something but I beat him to it, walking up another step and away from his very tempting lips.

"I better get to bed, it's been a long day," I excuse as I stumble up the stairs but before I can get far he grabs my hand and pulls me right back down. I stumble right into his chest and he smiles down at me, his other hand coming to my waist.

"You really thought I wasn't going to kiss you?" He hums and I'm nothing but stunned.

"A little, yeah," I murmur.

"You're ridiculous," He mumbles as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. I melt into him, my arms coming around the back of his neck as I revel in this moment, gods it was just how I had imagined.

His lips were soft and his movements were skilled, his hands on my hips distracting me entirely as he gripped them tight, pulling me impossibly closer like he couldn't get enough. My hands go into his hair, pushing his mouth onto mine with a restless intent. There was a burning fire inside of me and he seemed to be the only thing that defused it, yet still, I couldn't get enough.

He pulled away first and I reluctantly followed his actions. "Do you want to come up?" I offer and he smirks, then it falters and he shakes his head no. My smile morphs into a frown. Did he think it was a mistake? He hasn't moved away, he didn't seem repulsed.

"We should go slow, I want to do this right," He explains and my smile returns, much to his satisfaction.

"Then why don't you come up for a glass of wine? We don't have to do anything," I say, desperate at this point for anything he'd give me.

"You know if I go up there we won't just be kissing," He reasons and I shrug mischievously.

"There's nothing wrong with that," I grin, my arms around the back of his neck tightening.

"I'm doing it the right way, I'm taking you out tomorrow, be ready by dawn," He flashes me a grin, his touch lingering on my hips as he slowly pulls away.

"Dawn?!" I gasp a little too loudly for my quiet street.

"We're going to be doing stuff all day," He smiles. "Be ready," He demands and I groan, wishing I could have him in my arms again. "I'll see you at dawn, my love," He waves from over his shoulder.

My love, he said. I could feel my heart swelling and before I could forget how to walk I quickly made my way up the stairs and into my apartment with a wide grin over my features.

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[gukkie01]

Pair: Racer! Jungkook x Police officer! Fem reader

Rating/Genre: 18+, smut (little to no plot), humour (I tried but failed again 😐)

Words count: 5 649

Warning: explicit content, oral sex (F receiving), semi-public sex (I guess??), penetrative sex, vaginal sex, jungkook is a very very hot racer, fingering, car sex, sassy Y/n, dirty talking, unprotected sex (pls don’t be dumb like them)

Summary: Y/n was starting to get bored of being a police officer. She needed the thrill. Thank god, Jeon Jungkook was there to help her.

Note: very much liked writing this one. It was inspired by a book I read on wattpad (that I forgot the name of :/) but I switched the roles and decided Y/n was going to be the police officer 👍. Hope you guys enjoy this one! Sorry for any typos :(

💞 quick little reminder that comments and likes are appreciated 🥹. Enjoy! 💞

Can’t Catch Me

Being a police officer was not your dream anymore. For the solemn reasons that it was boring as hell. Nothing like in the movies. There weren’t any arresting criminals and interfering in mafia cartels and saving the day.

No. It was sorting documents and sometimes, if you were lucky enough, arresting cars. But where was the thrill in that? The excitement?

Sitting down behind a desk clearly wasn’t saving anyone or helping in that case. It was just making phone calls, watching some people here and then to make sure they didn’t leave. You never had to interrogate anyone. You didn’t even have your opportunity at playing the mean cop!

Because there was no doubt that you would’ve been the mean cop. You let no one step over you or cross any boundaries.

So yeah, being a cop or police officer if you would, was not thrilling at all. It was a shitty job that paid just enough so you could survive the month. Just enough. In the end, you always had to ask yourself if it was even worth it. And most of the time, your answer ended up being no, not at all.

Your superior was not even—

Speaking of, you suddenly received a phone call from him. Picking up, you cleared your throat, trying to sound as professional and calm and cool as possible. “Y/n,” he said and shifted a little. “I need you in my office. Now.” He ended the call, not giving the slightest bit of details.

But you were used to that. Didn’t make it less annoying though.

With an exasperated sigh that earned a few amused glares from your coworkers, you got up and made your way to your boss’s office down a little hall. Three knocks and a barely audible ‘come in’ later, you were sitting down in front of him, Mr. Kang or Monkey Face as you liked to call him.

“Yes sir?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow and shifting to the edge of your chair. Were you in trouble? You couldn’t see how that was possible. How could sitting all day bring you in trouble?

Monkey Face, without once letting his eyes divert from his laptop, clicked his tongue. “I’m assigning you to a new route,” was all he said, typing away on his laptop and munching on his gum a little too loudly for your taste.

“What? Where?” The idea of finally leaving this hell of a place brought interest into your features as you wiggled more on the edge of your chair. It was embarrassing really. It wasn’t like you were arresting criminals but at least, you were going to be outside, arresting cars.

Give or take. And you decided to take.

“Route 30. You can go now.”

So, apparently, route 30 ended up being more of a stretch of highway rather than an actual route. By the time the moon set, you saw two cars, and they were exasperatedly slow. But there was no one else behind so you let it pass.

You were sitting inside your car, radio playing but you paid it no mind. It was just nice having some background noises that stopped you from falling asleep although let’s just say it wasn’t doing its job right.

When you glanced outside, the sky was pitch black; no stars, no moon. It was like someone purposely painted it black. It made the outside much darker and duller.

You sighed and decided to exit your car. Take some fresh air. You stood outside, kicking rocks with your boots and after some time, you even started playing soccer against yourself.

But you quickly got bored once again.

It turned out that being assigned to patrol a road was worse than you thought. Sitting in your car, switching the radio multiple times until you’d get so frustrated you would just shut it.

At one point, you got so bored you were on the verge of tears. Which was pathetic but true.

You started singing off-tune to a song that you vaguely remembered, singing as loud as you could before that too would become boring.

And that was when the universe heard your wishes.

Your ears perked up at the ramble of an engine, far in the distance but no doubt getting nearer pretty fast. Too fast. With your heart thumping almost loudly, you buckled your seatbelt and waited until the roaring got closer and closer and you finally saw it.

It flew past you so quickly it was like it was never there in the first place. You flicked on your lights as well as your sirens and started the car, following as closely as you could.

It was hard. Whatever car it was surely surpassed your own speed. And if it didn’t slow down any time soon, you’d lose sight of them eventually.

They made a turn to the left so quickly that you almost couldn’t follow. Your car had been on the verge of driving off the road. You weren’t really on the highway anymore but more on a small route hidden by immense trees.

You were breathless and nervous but driving that fast was the biggest thrill of your entire life and it was so liberating.

Finally, the car decelerated soon after, swerving into the side and parking swiftly. With how fast it had initially been going, you were impressed with how smooth it parked. Whoever it was behind the steering wheel, they were clearly experienced.

Slowly, all the while trying not to make a fool of yourself, you pulled up behind the bright neon blue car. You stepped out and approached the vehicul, taking in deep breaths. Be cool, be cool.

You knocked on the window three times before it slid down and goddamn it—

Your heart literally stopped beating for a fraction of a second when your gaze met a pair of doe eyes. Your own trailed lower until it stopped at a particular shiny object on the driver’s face. A lip piercing.

For a moment, you completely forgot what you were here for, too dazed by the same piercing being bitten and played with. You shook your head, regaining your composure. Or more like tried to.

Question number one.

“Do you know how fast you were driving?” You asked, trying to muster the scariest voice you could. His pierced eyebrow raised up and he smiled innocently. He had this little bunny smile that made you giddy despite trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry officer, I wasn’t paying attention.” He was amused. It was clear in the way his eyes twinkled and the mocking tone of his so fucking deep voice. You gulped a lump in your throat, trying with all your might not to look at any of his piercings and maintain your professionalism.

Question number two.

“License and registration?” You managed to ask without stuttering and the driver reached into the glove box compartment and handed you his papers.

You glanced down at them, letting your eyes trail along the information.

Jeon Jungkook. Born September 1st, 1997. He was a year older than you. His hair in the picture of his license was shorter and lighter. More like a soft brown whereas now, it was almost black. You didn’t know why you were even paying attention to that. You didn’t deign a look at his registration papers and gave them back to him.

He arched an eyebrow, clearly finding the whole situation amusing and to his advantage. He must have known just how much he had an effect on you right now.

Your inner thoughts consisted of:

I’m gonna get fired

But he’s so hot, I don’t care

I wish he could take me right here, right now

I am so getting fired.

Jungkook’s smooth husky voice quickly pulled you out of your thoughts. It was kind of funny how your heart dropped at how deep and soft his voice sounded. There was this little witty and sarcastic tone behind it.

“Aren’t you supposed to use these?” He asked, wiggling his license and registration in his hands. It was then that your eyes caught the tattoos hiding every inch of his skin. It was covering a big part of his hands and went up under his sleeve and you found yourself wanting to see more. You needed to see his entire full sleeve tattoo.

You cleared your throat, the air around you thickening by the seconds. You wondered if you were the only one feeling it. The tension. The want. The desire. Maybe it was only your brain playing tricks on you. Telling you that Jungkook’s eyes definitely trailed down your body, mentally undressing you.

Yeah, your mind was clearly playing tricks. Maybe it was his little grin tugging at the corner of his lips or his sweet cologne that made your brain alter like that. Surely, he had done something to you.

After a couple of seconds, you realized you still hadn’t answered him. You straightened up, flattening your hand on the top of his car, glancing down at him with what you hoped was your most serious glare. “I’ll let you off with a warning, Jungkook.” It was a little strange saying his name out loud, but you quickly found out that you liked it. A lot.

“But I better not see you here again or it’s a ticket,” you continued and saw his smile widening.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ok, your mind was definitely going a little crazy. You had just seen Jungkook sending a little wink your way. You probably imagined it. Yeah, it was all your brain.

He gave a little nod and started his engine once again. It roared loud and hoarsely and you had to admit that it was nice to the ears. You took a step back and watched as Jungkook drove away, ignoring your words from mere moments ago and going fast.

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You had told Jungkook to never come back here but deep inside, you wished to see him again.

A week later, the job didn’t get better. If possible, it probably got worse. You hadn’t arrested one single car yet and all you did was sleep in your car. You knew that if your boss found out, he’d surely fire you and it would be over. He was paying you to work, not sleep. That would be his words.

You sighed for the millionth time this afternoon, whistling along the song playing on the radio. The sun wasn’t bright today. Your mood was down.

The radio was on as per usual and you could hear some of your coworkers communicating with each other, wishing you could do the same. You had nothing to say, nothing to warn. Today was pretty boring.

But then again, someone seemed to have heard you and a loud roar could be heard at the far end of the highway. Your heart thumped loudly and you felt your chest vibrate. Finally. You felt a smile curve up your lips as you turned your car on just as a vehicle flashed before your eyes.

You quickly drove away from behind the small bushes you were once parked at and started your pursuit. But it was quickly over. The car parked on the side road after a short while and you did the same a couple of meters behind. You stood outside your car, looking around quickly before jogging and knocking against the tinted window.

“Do you know how— Jesus! You?”

Fucking hell. Of course it was him. Jeon Jungkook. You should have known by the unique rambling of his motor and at the speed he went earlier. You should have known since the start. This job was seriously making you lose some brain cells.

Jungkook grinned. It was a little devilish and teasing and smug. He leaned on the inside of his door, looking up at you. Fuck. He had dimples.

“Hi to you too, officer…” his eyes trailed down to your badge, “Y/n.” The way your name rolled off his tongue so well made you shiver. His voice had gone an octave lower. It had that little rasp to it that almost made you drool. You secretly wished you could hear it right to your ears.

Just the thought of it gave you goosebumps.

“Jungkook, it’s the second time I catch you exceeding the speed limit. I have no other choice but to give you a ticket this time.”

You didn’t really want to. If you could, you’d let him off with another warning that would actually never get anywhere. He was too pretty to have a ticket. Too fucking perfect.

Jungkook’s wicked grin didn’t falter once even after your words. If it made sense, it seemed to only get wider. Was he finding this entire situation funny? It made your blood slightly boil. You felt like you were getting laughed at. Humiliated maybe. But there was also this little feeling, this tightness at the pit of your stomach when Jungkook got closer.

His cologne hit your strong and gosh, you wanted to breathe it forever. Bath in it. It smelled so good on him.

“Is there a way I could pay? I don’t have money right now.” His tone was suggestive and it took you a while before you got the proper meaning behind his words. And to say that you were shook was an understatement. You choked on nothing, face flushed and so warm, it was embarrassing.

Jungkook didn’t miss the way you suddenly avoided even looking at him, focusing on his steering wheel instead. You heard a low chuckle that shouldn’t have sounded this good. It shouldn’t have made your knees slightly fold.

Jungkook was an attractive man. You couldn’t deny it and it was pretty hard to miss. It was also hard not to stare at his piercings, at his pink lips that looked so soft or at the tattoos that were much more visible than last time. They peeked from his white top and reached the middle of his neck. They were simply magnificent. You wanted to let your fingers run along each of his tattoos.

But even with his fucking god-like appearance, you had to stop yourself from even thinking of further things about him. It was not professional to let your brain wander at these places.

So, in other words, you were a little too close to taking his offer.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have a week to pay, so if you don’t have the money on you right now, it’s no worries.” You replied, mentally high-fiving yourself for keeping your cool.

Jungkook shifted closer, and the tip of his index grazed your arm. It was covered with your uniform but it still sent a wave of fire through your entire body. “But I would really like to pay now. I have something better than money.”

Shit.

Fuck.

No, no no.

He shouldn’t have said that. You were on the verge of saying ‘yes’. On the verge of letting him take you right here, in the middle of the highway. His words were very powerful and from the way his eyebrow arched, he knew it.

“Do you know what you’re implying right now, Jeon?”

Something in his eyes twinkled when you said his last name. He smirked. Literally smirked. “I know that very well, officer. So, what do you say?”

Oh my god.

You couldn’t say yes, even with how much your heart—or more like your cunt— begged for you to accept his offer. But that would only bring you trouble. You didn’t need that.

“I say we’re going straight to the station, Jungkook. Come out.” His smug expression dropped for a moment, and you saw how disappointed he was. Maybe he thought that his sexiness and his pretty voice and pretty tattoos and piercings would have saved him, and it almost did. But you had to remember that you were the mean cop.

He sighed and opened his door, standing up in front of you.

You breath hitched when you realized how easily he was towering over you. He looked so intimidating from this angle, you almost dropped to your knees. It was then that you realized he was wearing a white top that was so tight you saw the entire shape of his pecs. He had a racer vest on top—blue with black lines and his name written on the back.

He looked at you for a second, toying with his lip piercing before eventually turning around and putting his hands behind his back.

“You know officer, it seemed like you were ready to take my offer. What made you change your mind?” So cocky. His ego was so big and normally it would piss you off, but with Jungkook, it was almost like a part of his charm.

“Stop talking,” you ordered in your most stern voice although it only made him chuckle. You unclipped the handcuffs from your uniform, ready to wrap them around his wrists.

“So bossy. I like it.” You swallowed on nothing over and over again, losing focus. The more he talked, the more you were overthinking. You wanted to push him in his car and let him fuck you.

“Jungkook, I said stop talking.”

“You like having control, hm? I bet you’d love to control me, even for just a few minutes…” And then, well, you kind of snapped.

You handcuffed his wrists together harshly, your fast movements making him take a sharp breath. You turned him around, slightly pinning him to his car door. “I told you to stop talking. You’re only bringing yourself further into trouble,” your voice was simply a mere whisper directed to his face. Jungkook bit his lips, bowing his upper body to reach your level.

“One thing you should know: I love trouble,” he said and his voice was suave and smooth and warm on the side of your face. His knee touched your crotch and he pushed it between your legs. You sucked in a long breath and let out a muffled moan.

Well shit. You were doomed. Because now, you couldn’t stop thinking about how his knee felt so good pressed against your pussy and how much his cock would be even better.

“Seems like you’re enjoying yourself,” he commented, looking down at your lower half grinding on his knees. He pushed it up more and added some pressure to your core. You were wet. Wetter than you’d been in a while and all because of a little asshole named Jungkook. He had his proud face on, enjoying the way your face darkened in a deep shade of pink and the way you obviously shook. He knew you wanted to go further.

“Remove those handcuffs, sweetie.” He said suddenly and his face was dark, serious and so dominant. You really couldn’t say no to that face.

So you nodded, taking out a key from your front pocket, fumbling with it clumsily until the handcuffs were off and Jungkook’s hands found their way on your waist.

He didn’t wrap his arms around you. He simply let you feel his hands for a while, getting used to the burning feeling they left even on top of your entire uniform. It tickled as if he touched you straight through your clothes, right on your skin. Thinking about it, you were dying for some skin to skin contact. To touch his tattoos while he was pleasing you.

Jungkook’s eyes were staring straight into yours. You knew right then that he had been thinking about that moment for a while now and to say that it turned you on was an understatement.

You cleared your throat, trying to keep eye contact without failing but it was hard. His stare was deep and intense and the way he continually licked his lips made it difficult to keep your eyes up there. They looked so soft.

You briefly wondered how they tasted before Jungkook’s voice interrupted your train of thoughts.

“Are you gonna stare at them longer before you finally kiss me?” You hated how his voice made your inside wiggle and giddy and your heartbeat accelerate.

You hesitated, on the tip of your toes. You were so nervous. And Jungkook seemed to catch in, as with a wide grin, he plunged down, lips crashing against your, and teeth colliding. His cold lip piercing touched the corner of your lips and made you gasp.

He snorted into the kiss, this time, wrapping his arms entirely around your waist and exchanging your positions. You were the one pinned on his car. And quite honestly, you liked this position way more.

“I’ve been waiting to do that since the moment you knocked on my window.” His sudden confession stole the air out of you. Just like you, he had been waiting to touch you and feel you up.

Fucking butterflies. You hated how they swam in your stomach and made it difficult to keep up with the kissing without feeling like you would pass out. Jungkook was a good kisser. Scratch that, he was fucking amazing. He moved his lips with expertise against yours.

You guys weren’t really taking your time but you still enjoyed it very much. They way it was heated and impatient and filled with want made it all the more exciting.

You wanted him so bad.

“Let’s take this further in the car, hm?” He mumbled against your lips, struggling to open the car in the position you were both in, but after a while, you were swiftly thrown in the back seat.

Jungkook hovered over you like a scary predator ready to attack and eat its prey. And you were very glad to be his prey.

His right hand lifted up and stopped at your cheek, letting his thumb rub over the softness of your skin. He was in literal awe as he let his eyes trail around every feature of your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Can’t wait to ruin you.”

If it wasn’t hot enough, it became too much. You were sweating, desperate to get out of your clothes and let the AC of the car wrap around you. And even more desperate to get Jungkook to fuck you.

Jungkook’s rough hands explored every inch of your upper body until he got tired of your clothes. He sat you up and as fast as he could, succeeded in removing the top of your uniform. His eyes twinkled as if he was a kid that just received his favorite toy for his birthday.

You let him touch you everywhere, he squeezed and massaged your breast until you were whimpering. He pinched your nipples, earning multiple cries from you. He seemed to love every second of it, considering the smile—worth probably a million of dollars—plastered on his face.

He didn’t linger on your breasts too much, though. You could see in the way his fingers always found themselves at the waistband of your pants, that he was more excited about what was down there.

He looked up at you, stopping his hands that were ready to slip off the last item of clothing (except your panties) covering your body.

“Can I remove them?” He asked and it warmed your heart that he remembered to ask you before going any further. You gave him a shy nod and kept in your breath when the cold air hit your lower body, more specifically, your inner thighs.

Jungkook’s hands covered your skin almost immediately. His nails slightly scratched your skin as he ran his fingers up and down your entire legs. But his eyes were stuck on the wet patch on your panties.

“Aren’t you a little excited, huh? Soaked even when I barely even started.”

You moaned. It was a small moan that was more due to your embarrassment and your need for him to touch you, combined together.

It was music to Jungkook’s ears.

He let his finger push on your clothed core, breathing in loudly when he felt the dampness. And then he slipped his fingers in your panties without any second thoughts or any warning.

He settled on rubbing his middle finger on your clit, looking up every now and then at the way your face contorted in pleasure. You were moaning continuously, asking him for more but he wouldn’t give it.

Jungkook loved teasing you and even though you barely knew him at all, that information was pretty obvious from the way he enjoyed slipping in snarky little remarks from the first moment you saw him. He loved how your face became red instantly, how you avoided his eyes. He felt so confident around you.

You liked the tease. You liked feeling on edge every time his fingers almost entered your pussy but then he’d move them away.

“Be patient, babe. You’ll get what you want soon enough.”

Babe. You wanted to hear him say that again on repeat.

“Jungkook,” you mumbled with closed eyes, internally screaming when he avoided your hole again, “I need more. Please.”

He chuckled, stopping the motion of his fingers. “Look at you begging for me. I should have known you’d be an impatient little slut.”

You whined at his choice of words. Dirty talking never failed in turning you on, although it was clear that it depended from who.

And it seemed to fit Jungkook very well.

“Please,” you asked again, not even caring how pathetic you sounded.

“Aw, you’re asking so nicely.” He slipped one finger in and you involuntarily arched your back. “So good for me, so tight too.” Another finger. “Are you gonna come from just my fingers?” A third digit, this time, curling inside.

The stretch hurted a bit. But it was good. It felt so amazing. It only added onto the pleasure and after a while, it wasn’t even uncomfortable anymore.

Jungkook’s eyes were plastered on your pussy and the way you swallowed his fingers so well. You were so wet, it dripped down your inner thighs. He kept biting and licking his lips, moving his head down by the seconds.

And then you understood what he wanted to do so bad. He wanted to eat you out.

“Do it,” you told him, wiggling and pushing yourself closer to him, his fingers hitting a particular spot that had a little yelp come out of you.

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows, slowing down his fingers. You straightened up a little bit and took his wrist, pulling his three digits out of you. “I know what you wanna do. Eat me out. Please.”

He swallowed and nodded, pushing you further in the back seat and against the door. He properly positioned himself between your legs, tapping on your right thigh. “Open up,” he signaled, pulling them even more apart until you were wide open in front of him.

He licked his lips and plunged his head right in your crotch. Locks of his hair fell on your thighs, tickling you and making shivers run up your entire body. And then his tongue touched you. So warm. So soft. So pleasurable.

He licked the lips at first before slipping his tongue inside, grunting. He had mumbled something but with his face between your legs, the words came out muffled and unclear.

“Fuck, it’s so fucking good. Please don’t stop.” He dug his fingers in your thighs to keep them apart. He thrusted his tongue in and out of your cunt, sometimes, keeping it in deep, filling up all the right places, grazing all the right spots until you were wiggling, and legs wrapping around his face, bucking your head up.

He let you do it. Let you suffocate his face until your juice rolled down his mouth and he pulled himself away. White liquid covered his lips and something in your belly tightened at the sight.

It was so obscene but so hot. You pulled him by his vest to smash your lips on his and taste yourself. He slipped off his vest in the process, tearing down his top and struggling out of his black baggy pants, his boots already off.

He was left in those Calvin Klein sinful briefs that allowed you to see is bulge and fuck, he was big. Perfect length and thickness and that had you drooling literally. You wanted to touch every inch of his body. He was perfectly sculpted.

“I’m gonna fill you up so good, babe. Can’t wait to fuck you into oblivion.” He whispered in your ear and let you remove his boxers until his cock sprung free and stood proudly.

You were astonished and couldn’t tear your eyes away. You were never one to find dicks beautiful, but with Jungkook, you could stare at it and a suck it all day.

But not right now. There were more important matters. Like your desperation to have his cock fuck you.

“Jungkook, I need it inside. Please.”

Jungkook couldn’t get enough of your begging. He wanted to go as far as recording it and jerking himself off at night.

He aligned himself right in front of your entrance and looked up at you. “Are you okay? I really want to fuck the shit out of you but if you changed your mind—“

You cut him off with your finger, grinning at him. “I’ve never wanted something more in my entire life. So please, do it already.” Jungkook’s face brightened up at your response. He liked how you had shut him up and ordered him.

You pushed yourself against his cock just as he began slipping it in slowly, groaning and snuggling his face in the crook of your neck, biting right under your jaw.

“Oh my fucking god, I won’t last long,” he mumbled, sucking in multiple sharp breaths. One of his hands was holding himself beside your head and the other was wrapped around you, securing you in his grasp.

When Jungkook was fully in, he stayed still for a couple of seconds, enjoying the way your walls were so warm and perfectly wrapped around his cock. But then, he slowly slipped out until the head of his dick was at your rim and slammed back in. “Oh fuck—”. You bucked your hips up, meeting his thrust and letting out a scraped moan along with Jungkook’s groan.

“If I knew it was this good,” you started but cut yourself off when he picked up his pace, squeezing your flesh, “I would’ve accepted your offer from the beginning.”

He chuckled, looking down attentively as his cock disappeared in and out of your pussy, being soaked with your slick. It was warm and it drove Jungkook crazy. He wanted to stay inside forever.

“Well, I wanted to fuck you the moment I laid my eyes on you,” he admitted and slowed down his thrusts.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion until Jungkook flipped you over and you were straddling him. From this position, everything felt so different. He felt so much deeper, as if you could feel him with your hands if you touched your belly.

He gripped your hips tightly to the point when it almost hurted and glanced up at you. “Ride me like the naughty little slut you are, hm?” His voice was so hoarse compared to earlier, and so much more seductive and his sinful words rolled off his tongue in a way you found so satisfying.

You nodded and wrapped your hands around his neck. As you bounced up and down, your breasts followed the rhythm and they were practically jumping in Jungkook’s face, basically calling out to him to suck on them.

Which he ended up doing, letting go of your hips and licking, biting and squeezing the sensitive skin of your chest. He marked your entire cleavage until he was happy at how dark and red it looked.

Your pussy clenched around his cock, earning a strangle moan out of you two and then a moan from Jungkook when you clenched again.

“Is my little slut already so close?”

“Y-yes. It’s so good, I can’t hold it in much longer.” His hands grasped your waist and slid you down his cock until it was buried so deep, you couldn’t find the voice in you to make a sound. He was fucking you so well.

“You’re taking my cock like a good girl. I think you deserve to come.” He mumbled, moving his head closer to yours and nibbling on your bottom lip.

“Please, Jungkook. I want to come so bad. Please please.”

“Fuck, begging like that, I don’t think I can last longer too.”

His words made you keep going, bouncing on his length over and over again to the point where you reached some overstimulation, shaking violently in his arms.

Your voice was loud and the only word that was heard was Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook.

Your cum ran down his length, to his thighs and made his skin glisten in white. Your head was dizzy and your eyes hazed as you glanced down at Jungkook. Your stomach kept tightening every time he moved his hips upward.

He came no longer after, slamming you down his cock and keeping you there for a long moment, moaning how good you were and how hot you looked.

You leaned on his chest after a moment, catching your breath although it proved to be a difficult task. Your lungs felt empty, devoid of any air. But it was fine because you had just been fucked by Jeon Jungkook. And it was the best sex of your life.

After Jungkook regained his composure, he wrapped his arms around you and looked up. One of your hands was running along his tattoos and the other was busy, combed in his sticky hair. Jungkook was a fucking piece of art.

“So,” he started, pushing a few locks of hair away from your face, “Do I still need to pay for that ticket?”

“Heck yeah.”

[ticklishfiend]

The Gaang Gets Zuko (ATLA)

lee!zuko , ler!gaang :P

A/N : im having sooo much fun with this show rn, esp having fun attacking zuko as much as possible LOL im going bonkers. there’s no clear story or plot in this one, just the gaang being silly and zuko getting to be silly with them :P

Summary : separate short stories of each member of the gaang tickling zuko (and one where Zuko actually gets one back, read to find out who hehe)

Word Count : 5139

hope u enjoy!! <3

-

It was strange how relaxed Zuko was starting to feel. The air seemed easier to breathe these days, despite everything he knew they were all about to go through. But that’s just it. Zuko knows he’s not alone. He has people, good people, behind him. Though he misses his Uncle greatly, it keeps Zuko motivated to know Iroh would be proud to see how far he’s come since they’d been separated.

Things are looking up, despite it all, and Zuko’s especially happy he gets to feel that in good company.

“So, like this, right?” Aang asked, getting into position for the new firebending move Zuko’s trying to teach him. 

“Um…not quite,” Zuko walked behind him, grabbing his shoulders to gently adjust his stance. “You want your shoulders back a little more, it’ll help your balance. And you should have your waist turned a bit to the side, like this…” Zuko gently gripped onto Aang’s sides, but was startled at how quickly Aang jumped away with a surprised laugh.

“Aaah–tickles, tickles!” Aang giggled, rubbing the sensation away with his arms.

Zuko frowned with his hands on his hips, “Seriously? I barely touched you.”

Katara snickered as she watched them train, bending water in the air lazily like a fidget. “Aang’s more sensitive than most. Remember that wound your sister gave him on his foot? Yeah, that took way, way longer than it should have. He wouldn’t stop squirming.”

“It’s not my fault your water’s so tickly!” Aang cringed at the memory. He took a deep breath before turning back to Zuko, getting into position. “Okay, I’m ready this time. You just surprised me.”

Zuko lifted an eyebrow before trying again, this time with less giggly results. Zuko wasn’t used to such silliness when it came to training, but it was endearing to see Aang was comfortable enough with him to act like that (even if it was slightly annoying).

They trained for another 15 or so minutes before Zuko called for a break, ready for his pre-lunch meditation. He leaned down to gather some of his scattered things into a bag, not noticing the figure creeping up behind him. Before he knew it, Zuko felt two hands give quick pinches to his hip. “AH-! Ggghaha-!” a strangled giggle fell out of him before he could stop it, squirming out of the grip and whipping his body around.

Aang stood behind him with a grin and hands raised in surrender, “Sorry, I had to get you back for earlier.”

Zuko scowled with a pink face, trying very hard to ignore Katara giggling behind Aang. “But I wasn’t even trying to tickle you earlier,” he groaned, turning back around but keeping his guard up. “It’s unfair catching me off guard like that.”

“Yeah, but you gotta admit, that sound you just made was pretty funny,” Aang snickered, sitting down next to Katara and stealing some of her water to fidget with as well. 

Zuko sighed, turning around to hide his warm face. “Whatever, I’m gonna meditate. Don’t bother me unless it’s for lunch,” he said before walking out of their view to his normal meditation spot.

-

Zuko was sat on his bed reading a book Uncle had given him forever ago. Being on the run meant he never really had time to just sit and read (and maybe it was partly his pride that wouldn’t allow him to do something he deemed so lazy), but honestly it wasn’t half bad. Sure, he could be training right now, but everyone else seemed content doing their own thing so maybe that was okay for him too. Uncle always said proper relaxation was an important tool for a warrior to learn.

His reading time, however, was cut short when he heard a knock at his doorway. Zuko looked up to see Sokka peeking his head around the corner.

“You need something?” Zuko asked, sitting his book down on the bed.

“Well, I–uh…” Sokka cleared his throat shuffling awkwardly in the doorway. “I was just wondering if you would, uh–help me out with something? It’s nothing major! You really don’t have to if you don’t wanna, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate with, y’know, training the Avatar and everything, but like, I mean, if you maybe had the time–”

“Sokka,” Zuko interrupted his ramblings, holding the book up for him to see. “I’m not exactly doing anything important right now. I can do you a favor if you need it.”

Sokka sighed, “Okay, that’s good to hear because I really need your help right now,” he shuffled into Zuko’s room defeatedly, plopping himself next to the prince and throwing his head in his hands. “I think I sorta suck at hand-to-hand combat.”

Zuko nearly laughed at that. “Are you serious? You guys managed to take out every team I threw at you, and you think you’re bad at combat?”

“Yeah, but that was when I had everybody with me! You know, benders?!” Sokka sighed, “I’m not a bender, so having them with me to fight is like, insanely helpful. But…what if I end up alone at the next battle? What if I lose my sword? I’ll be useless! I need to know how to fight with my fists at least a little before we go out there.”

All this did was confuse Zuko even more. “Your girlfriend is a Kyoshi Warrior. Why aren’t you asking her for help? She’s the only other non-bender on the team, it seems pretty obvious.”

Sokka blushed and turned his head away, “Well that’s…actually part of it,” he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “She’s so good at combat. And she’s a great teacher, don’t get me wrong! Everything I know about fighting, it came from her. But…I feel so stupid. We spar all the time, but she’s the one teaching me the moves, she knows what strategy I’m gonna take! I kinda…I wanna impress her during our next spar. Maybe show her something she hasn’t seen me do before,” Sokka looked up at Zuko with an unsure face. “I thought maybe you could teach me a thing or two?”

Zuko just stared for a moment, thinking it over. Sokka had that puppy-dog look on his face he always gets when he’s trying to win someone over…unfortunately for Zuko, he’s really good at that face. 

Zuko sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before standing and making his way towards the door. “I can’t promise it’ll help you any. I’m better at fighting with my bending than just plain combat. You’re already in good hands with Suki.”

Sokka jumped up, following behind Zuko like a puppy. “I know, but I just wanna see if it helps,” he wrapped an arm around the back of Zuko’s neck as they walked, the boy in question not acknowledging the touch whatsoever. “Can’t hurt to try, right?”

Zuko peeked an eye towards Sokka. “Whatever.”

They found an open area to spar, somewhere away from everyone else so no one could spill the “secret” to Suki. Not like anyone actually cared, but Sokka insisted this was the best move to make. 

They fought for a while, Sokka showing off the moves he learned from Suki, and Zuko trying to teach him anything that popped into his head that Sokka might not already know. But…the spar wasn’t really turning out the way Zuko had envisioned before they started.

Sokka was actually really good at this. Like, stupid good. Way better than he had given himself credit for just about an hour ago. He’d already pinned Zuko probably 5 times, and Zuko only got him down once. It was sorta embarrassing. Zuko kept reminding himself that the guy had been trained by a literal Kyoshi warrior, so it shouldn’t be that surprising.

Still, though. It did take a tiny blow to his ego that the guy asking him for training was practically kicking his butt right now.

“Woohoo! Down for the count again!” Sokka whooped from behind Zuko. The boy was pinned on his front, arms behind his back.

“I thought you wanted help,” Zuko wheezed, twisting his wrists in Sokka’s hold to no avail. “Now it feels like you just wanted bragging rights,” he mumbled.

Sokka didn’t say anything. Actually, he just kept looking down at Zuko with this look. His eyes a little wide, his lips sucked behind his teeth. 

You’re kidding. You’re kidding.

“Are you serious?!” Zuko yelled, starting to actually fight under Sokka’s hold now that he felt thoroughly pissed off. “Why would you lie about that?! You could’ve just asked for a spar!”

Sokka stammered, “Well, I was serious at first! I wasn’t lying! I really did want your help!” He paused, baring his teeth a little in guilt. “Buuuut…after we started sparring, I realized I was way better than I thought I was. I don’t know why, but I just kinda figured you’d be able to take me down with no trouble! You’re like, royally trained or something, right?”

Zuko frowned, “Yeah. I am,” he said. “In firebending.”

Sokka’s brows shot up. “Oh yeaaaah. Didn’t really think about that,” he chuckled nervously.

A beat passed in silence before both of them realized Sokka was still on top of him. Zuko twisted his wrists in Sokka’s hands, “Well? Are you gonna get off me?”

“I don’t really trust you not to turn me into bacon right now.”

“Sokka.”

Sokka laughed, “Y’know, it’s kinda funny if you think about it. Last year I used to run from you, and now I’ve got you literally pinned under me. I mean, really, it just writes itself!”

Zuko groaned, pressing his forehead to the floor. “You are…beyond annoying.”

“I’m just saying, if I had all this Kyoshi training last year, we might not even be here right now. Or maybe you’d have joined our group back then, after seeing how much of an asset to the team I am!” Sokka teased, pressing his body weight against Zuko’s arms so he could flex a muscle in Zuko’s eyeshot. 

Then, Sokka went quiet for a moment. Suspiciously quiet. Zuko was not a fan of his disadvantage right now. 

“Hey, who’s that fire nation girl that’s always hanging around your sister? You know, the one that can paralyze people?”

Zuko sighed, “That would be Ty Lee. Get off.”

“Yeah, Ty Lee! Man, it’d be so cool if she wasn’t the worst,” Sokka adjusted his grip a bit, like he was trying to get a better hold for something. What in the world is he planning?! “I bet I could learn a thing or two from that girl, strengthen up my fighting style a bit,” Sokka shrugged, “Eh, I bet I could be self taught. I just gotta find the right nerve…”

Before Zuko could even process what he was talking about, Sokka started poking up and down Zuko’s open sides, using one finger to poke one side, then the other, then back again. Over and over and over. 

“G-GaAH!” Zuko’s body jumped under the assault, squirming under his hold. “N-No, Sokka, let me–gohoho!” He giggled involuntarily, trying his best to hide his face in the floor while also trying to jerk away from Sokka’s ticklish hold.

“No, hold on, I think I’m getting the hang of this!” Sokka teased, poking up into Zuko’s ribs. Zuko couldn’t help the squeaky giggles falling from his lips, it was mortifying. He kicked his legs out behind Sokka like it would do anything, but with how good the boy had gotten at these warrior pins, Zuko didn’t stand a chance.

“S-stohohop! This is sohoho–ahaha so stuhupid!” Zuko cackled, writhing when he felt Sokka start pinching at his bony ribs. He could feel his face growing warmer by the second, horribly embarrassed by how easily Sokka can drag him into his playful little games.

“Okay, okay, just oneeee more thing,” Sokka said before bringing his hand up to flutter soft fingers against Zuko’s neck and ears. Crapcrapcrapcrap that really tickles. Zuko immediately fell into the most disgusting, high-pitched, girly-ish giggles he’s ever produced. It. Was. Terrible.

“Nohoho! Come ohohon! This is–ahaha this is so unfahahair!” Zuko whined, pulling against the hands holding him hostage. “This is assahahault!”

Sokka cackled at that, finally letting go of his very ticklish victim. He stood and backed away enough to let Zuko catch his breath, wiping a mirthful tear from his eye.

“You–pfff!! You’re so ticklish! Who woulda guessed that?!” Sokka laughed, practically doubled over in it. Zuko grumbled on the ground, sitting up and stretching his arms.

“And you are so childish,” he groveled, before launching at Sokka while he wasn’t paying attention. He grabbed around the boy’s waist and brought him to the ground with an ‘oof!’, the pair roughing it out for a moment before Zuko got the upper hand (Sokka was still laughing too much to put up a real fight). On the ground, Zuko had him trapped in a reverse bear hug, finding an opening near Sokka’s stomach to dig his own fingers in and make Sokka howl.

“Say you’re sorry!” Zuko grunted, trying to avoid a head butt from Sokka’s frantic squirming. “Say it!”

“AAAHH! AAAHAhahaha! I’m–! I’m ssssahahahah!” Sokka cackled, struggling to find the words with fingers digging incessantly into his stomach. Even in his wild state, Sokka could tell Zuko wasn’t very used to this, his tickling-style a little more rough than what he’s used to with the others. But luckily for Zuko, Sokka was a little too ticklish for it to actually affect anything.

“What? You can dish it but you can’t take it?!” Zuko fired back with his usual angry tone, though it was really hard to take seriously when he started pinching at Sokka’s side so viciously. 

“I cahaha–! It’s tooohohohoo–! AAAHH-!" Sokka's screaming laugh echoed through the temple, his head jerking back and forth. Zuko's fingers were getting tired, and this whole thing felt so stupid, but it was the principle of the thing! This is...how it works, right?

Zuko kept tickling despite not really knowing what he was doing, avoiding flailing limbs and a jerking head all the while. And right, right before he was about to just call it quits, he heard a cough from just outside his peripheral.

The pair froze, Zuko feeling his entire face grow warm in the matter of seconds. They both turned their heads slowly to see Suki standing there with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in question.

"You two having fun in here?" Suki asked through a smile, clearly on the verge of laughing. Zuko dropped Sokka like a sack of potatoes, standing up quickly with a finger pointed right at Sokka.

“He started this! He attacked me first, but–but I got out! And then he started laughing, and, I mean–it was so stupid! This is so stupid!” Zuko yelled in embarrassment, throwing his hands up to cover his whole face.

Suki giggled and walked over towards her boyfriend on the ground. “Aw, did the big mean firebender get you?” She teased a frowning (and blushing) Sokka. Suki held out her hand to him, “Come on, get up.”

Sokka took it with a scowl, refusing to make eye contact with Zuko. At least, until Sokka remembered how this whole thing started, his whole demeanor lighting up in an instant. “Oh you’ll never believe this. I beat Zuko. In a spar,” he whooped, looking over towards the firebending to find him scowling with his arms crossed. “Actually, it was like ten!”

“Six. It was just six,” Zuko squinted at Sokka in contempt.

“Okay, but six is still a lot compared to your one win,” Sokka boasted, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend.

Suki pulled herself out of his hold, “Uh, sure, but I think after what I saw, Zuko’s still the winner here,” she said, shooting an affirming smile Zuko’s way. 

Sokka dropped his jaw, “What?! But–But I beat him! Like, TONS of times?!” He exclaimed, “And I’m the one that started that! I tickled Zuko first, he totally went down!”

“When I was already pinned!” Zuko argued, angry he couldn’t make his blush fade any faster.

Suki sucked her teeth, “Sokka, if you started this, that’s even worse,” she shrugged. “You cheated. Zuko’s clearly the winner here, he just finished what you started” Suki pat Sokka’s back, shooting Zuko an empathetic look. “Sorry my boyfriend’s so childish. If you ever want a real spar, you know where to find me.”

Zuko looked surprised, really expecting her to tease him like everybody else did. “Oh, uh…yeah, whatever. Sure.”

Suki smiled, taking Sokka by the shoulders and walking him off. Zuko could hear her scolding as they walked away, “Next time we spar, I’ll show you how a real warrior cheats.”

Zuko wasn’t really sure how to take that. In fact, he decided it was probably best to ignore whatever that meant. Instead, he just grabbed his bag and tried forgetting this whole embarrassing mess ever happened.

–

“Zuko, I’m so sorry! I’m so so so sorry, I never meant for this to happen!” Aang practically cried behind Zuko, his words muffled under the hands he used to cover his mouth in guilt. “If you never wanna train me again, I’d understand. I just…I’m so sorry. I’m so—”

“Aang, it’s fine. I already told you it’s fine,” Zuko sighed, propping his bare foot up on the stool of earth Toph made for him. “Believe me, I’ve been burned way worse than this.”

“But that’s different!” Aang cried, falling on his butt to hide his face in his knees. “I can’t believe I burned someone. Again.”

“You’re still learning. It happens,” Zuko winced when Katara took hold of his ankle to get a better look at the burn. “Trust me, I burned a few of my trainers when I was growing up too. It’s just part of firebending. Once you’ve mastered it, you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Aang lifted his head with a sniffle. “Yeah…I guess you’re right,” he sighed. “Still feel bad, though.”

“As long as it doesn’t affect your training going further, I really don’t care,” Zuko shrugged, leaning back against his hands.

“That’s a little rude, don’t you think?” said Katara, popping the cork from her water bottle.

“Not really. I don’t care. I’m fine, and Aang will be too,” Zuko said, before gasping as Katara let the healing water wash over his feet. He jerked his foot back off the stool, making Katara raise an eyebrow.

“Zuko?” She looked down at the empty stool. “Kinda need your foot for this.”

Aang lit up, the smile finally returned to his face when he realized with a giggle, “I forgot! Zuko’s ticklish!”

“I am not! It just surprised me!” Zuko argued, throwing his foot back on the stool with confidence (though the pout he sported said otherwise).

Katara snickered, holding her water up so Zuko could see. “Well it’s a good thing you aren’t ticklish then, cause Aang could barely sit still last time I did this to him.”

“Yeah, Toph nearly had to earthbend my hands to the ground to keep me from moving,” Aang nodded, clearly feeling more chipper than a moment ago. Zuko cringed at the thought, shaking his head to clear it from overthinking.

“That will not be necessary,” Zuko huffed. “Just get to it, I’ll be fine. We need to get back to training.”

Katara shrugged, bringing the water to his foot and starting the healing process. Zuko immediately gasped again, his foot nearly jerking off the stool. He caught himself this time, but no one in the room missed the flinch.

Well, except for Toph, but only out of technicality’s sake.

“Your hearts racing, Sparky,” Toph sang, never missing an opportunity to tease their resident grump.

“Shut up, Toph,” Zuko said through bared teeth, straining himself to keep from letting a giggle slip. He squirmed in his seat, toes clenching and unclenching involuntarily. If he can just get through this without cracking, there’ll be nothing for these weirdos to tease him about. He can do this.

“Y’know, you should probably breathe soon. Don’t want you dying on us while I’m healing you,” Katara said, looking up from her water at Zuko’s puffed cheeks and pink face. He’d been too focused to even realize he was holding his breath in the first place. Slowly, Zuko exhaled through his nose before flinching hard again at a more solid sensation in the center of his foot.

“Grrk–!” Zuko jumped, scowling at Katara who started snickering.

“Sorry, my finger slipped,” she grinned, making the other two start giggling at his expense. 

“It’s really okay if you need to laugh, Zuko,” said Aang. “There’s no way I could’ve held it in like you are.”

“I said I’m fine. It doesn’t even…” Zuko huffed, the water finding a particularly sensitive spot right at the worst time possible, making him growl through a giggle. He shut his eyes tight, “Juhust shut up.”

–

At first, his days in the air on Appa were something Zuko wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He had to admit, it was definitely cool getting to ride a sky-bison thousands of feet in the air after he’d been told his whole life the species had gone extinct with the rest of the air-benders. There was some excitement to it the first couple rides he got to experience.

But after about the fifth time, it was really starting to get old.

“I thought I knew what boredom felt like when I was out camping with Uncle, but this is really something else,” Zuko groaned, throwing his head over the side of the saddle.

“Zukoooo, remember what I keep telling you about the positive attitude?” Aang reminded him from Appa’s head, steering the bison in what felt like the same direction for hours.

“No, he’s right. This is super boring,” Sokka whined, picking at Appa’s fur with a pout.

“Don’t you guys ever, I don’t know…play any games while you’re up here?” Zuko asked, feeling a little silly about it. Playing games was so childish, but it seemed to fit this group’s whole vibe pretty well. Couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Yeah we used to, until Toph took it too seriously one time and Katara banned fun,” Sokka shot a look at his sister, who scoffed at the mention.

“Um, I did not ban fun. I banned Pushies,” Katara corrected him with a squint.

“Ah, Pushies. The good ole days when having a laugh wasn’t forbidden by Her Highness,” said Toph, nearly making Katara blow a fuse.

Zuko hated to ask, but this was the most entertained he’d felt in the past two hours. With an incredulous look, he asked, “What’s Pushies?”

“It was the best,” Sokka sighed like he was daydreaming. “Toph and I would push each other back and forth until one of us got too scared and called quits.”

“Which I never did, by the way–”

“Uh, not true! You know you called quits that one time-”

“Because you nearly pushed me off Appa!”

“Not true AGAIN! You couldn’t see it, but you were totally fine-”

“Oh so because I’m blind it��s my fault they won’t let us play Pushies anymore?!”

“That’s not what I meant-!”

“GUYS!” Aang shouted, throwing a stern look over his shoulder towards the group. The pair went silent before both slouching back against the saddle. “No. Pushies.”

They both grumbled to themselves, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth the fight. Zuko looked to the sky at their bickering, thankful his temper wasn’t like it used to be.

“Games other than Pushies exist, you know. We just have to make one up,” he suggested, sitting criss-crossed to face the group. 

“Did you play any games on that murder-ship you used to ride?” Katara asked with a tone, her mood clearly a bit dampened.

Zuko grimaced, “I was kinda too focused on capturing Aang for games back then.” Zuko sighed, throwing his head and arms back over the saddle to stare into the sky. “Forget it. Let’s just go back to sitting in silence.”

It seemed like the rest of the group agreed, because for the next few minutes that’s exactly what they did. The wind whistling in their ears was the only sound to focus on.

That is, until Zuko felt something tweak his side, making him squeak an awful sound. He whipped his head around to find everyone suspiciously not looking at him. Sokka picked at his fingers, Katara seemed a little too interested in the cloth of her dress, and Toph…well, she looked straight ahead, but that was to be expected.

Zuko fumed, “Who did that?”

Sokka looked up from his fingers, “Hm? Who did what?”

Oh, Zuko was so onto them. Pointing a finger at Sokka with a squint, “Don’t. Do it. Again.” He said sternly, before turning back around towards the sky. Zuko swore he could hear them snickering behind him, but hoped that would be the end of it.

Another minute went by with nothing, and for some reason Zuko really thought he evaded trouble with that intimidation move he pulled. Clearly he didn’t know this group well enough yet.

Another tweak to his side, this one closer to his ribs this time. Anything near his ribs always made him flinch hard, his elbow shooting down to cover the area with a giggly shout. Zuko growled when he faced them, “Seriously, who’s doing this?!” They all looked up at him like they were clueless. He’s gonna kill them. “Answer me!”

Finally, he heard Toph giggle, clearly unaffected by his little hissy fit. “It was me. Both times, actually,” she grinned, throwing a leg over her knee. “What, you gonna do something about it?”

Zuko’s jaw locked forward, feeling like he was breathing smoke out of his nose. His hands clenched beside him, telling himself it would probably not be the “right thing” throwing this twelve year old over the side of Appa.

With a grumble, he fixed his face and looked up to the sun above him. “You people are crazy.” Zuko crossed his arms and slumped against the saddle, decidedly not turning away from Toph this time. Everyone got a chuckle out of that, even Aang.

“No, I think Toph’s the crazy one,” he chuckled, smiling over his shoulder. “The rest of us are pretty normal, right?”

Zuko deadpanned Aang’s way. “No.”

Toph crawled over beside Zuko, who nearly flinched at her presence. “Lighten up, Sparky! Remember what Aang said? Positive attitude?” She accentuated Aang’s words with more tweaks to Zuko’s side, these far more ticklish now that she doesn’t have to hide it. Zuko jumped with a giggly shout, trying hard to hide his side with his elbow, but that just made Toph reach around his back to get his other side.

“Gah-! N-Nohoho!” He complained, pushing at her hands and face. “Quihit!”

“Cmooon I’m bored! This is the most entertained I’ve been in hours!” Toph tickled into Zuko’s ribs as she talked, making him fall over on his side in giggles. He kept pushing at her with his hands, but his stupid body kept betraying him, his elbows shooting down to cover the area too much to really fight back.

“Toph-! Tohohoph!” Zuko squealed, everyone around laughing at his funny noises. These people are the worst. “Gahaha! Get her ohoff mehehe!” He cackled, feeling her fingers vibrate into his ribs and stomach at the same time. Zuko’s eyes were scrunched tight in mirth, feeling silly and stupid and ticklish.

“This is too good. You sound like a girl!” Toph laughed, poking into his side like a typewriter. Zuko couldn’t stop giggling, flipping over on his stomach to crawl away (though he didn’t have much room, cramped on this stupid saddle with the rest of these freaks). He opted for crawling as close to Katara as he could get, praying she’d take pity on him and make Toph stop embarrassing him already.

Katara chuckled, “Okay, I think he’s had enough,” grabbing for Toph’s wrist (her hand still trying to worm it’s way under Zuko’s armpit) Katara pulled Toph away from Zuko as he slumped close to her side panting.

“Aweee, what?! I was just getting started!” Toph whined, making another grabbing motion in Zuko’s general direction that had him flinching with a squeak.

“You heard her, quit it!” Zuko griped, trying to silently maneuver himself as far from Toph as possible without her hearing. It was like a game of cat and mouse, Toph listening for any subtle sound Zuko made for her to launch her free arm in his direction, making him zip out of her reach before she could grab him. 

“Cut it out, this is ridiculous!” Zuko complained, getting behind Sokka and gripping his shoulders like a human shield. “Ha! How ‘bout that, shortstack?!” 

“Hey! Don’t rope me into this–AHH! NO! NONONOHohohoho!!” Sokka fell over on his side in giggles the moment Katara let go of Toph’s arm, the shorter girl launching for his sides.

“This’ll do for now!” Toph cheered, digging into Sokka’s waist with her rough fingers and making him howl. “I’ll catch you eventually, Sparky! Just wait til I’m finished with him!” she grinned wickedly, Sokka losing his mind just below her.

“But you already—! Gah, forget it,” Zuko sighed, crawling silently over beside Katara to hopefully avoid getting involved in that mess again. “She’s ruthless.”

Katara giggled, shooting Zuko a smile, “You get used to it.”

-

Zuko caught himself smiling at dinner. It was weird, usually when he smiled, it felt like an intentional move. Smiling to convince someone he’s happy, or smiling to fake innocence. But tonight…he started smiling before he even realized he was doing it.

Aang was telling some silly story from over 100 years ago, something from his childhood before all this. It was a stupid story, something Zuko would’ve found himself scoffing at if he had heard it even just a few months ago.

But things are good now. He felt good. Happiness came easy to him, like breathing or pulling fire from his hands. Zuko never thought he’d get to feel this again after everything he’d gone through, but these weirdos just had a way with him.

Something about these people, his friends, was always able to make him smile. They were annoying. They’re loud. They’re way too touchy, and always in his personal space. Like now, with Toph curled against his side as she laughed along to Aang’s story.

And yet? Zuko’s come to be okay with that. He’s come to like it about them, as crazy as it sounds. 

The fire he sat in front of now didn’t have to be a threat. It was home.

—

A/N : i was all over the place writing this LMAO hope yall like it anyways cause it was fun to write!! pls consider reblogging if u enjoyed!! <3

[bloodlust-1]

I think your writing it beautiful! I think you'd write Gale's inter struggle excellently. Him wrestling with feelings for Tav before confessing or pursuing them properly. Because guilt and the orb and they're supposed to be focusing on the mission and the tadpole and the timing is awful. I think the softness you've given him would lend really well to that.

Thank you anon <3 and Yes! Ofc. Gale battling to keep his feelings subtle, but its unapologetically obvious to everyone around him expect himself.

⊱Is this love⊰

Gale x fem Tav — fluff, angst

Summary: Gale tried to be subtle, he totally wasn’t looking at Tav. But when she catches him, it triggered an array of emotions he battled within himself.

Notes: this was a request, so I hope you like this anon<3 (also merry Christmas Eve!)

Short and sweet

Gale had his nose buried in a book, but was he really reading? Nope! In truth, the book in his hands was nothing more than a shield, a way for him to keep a watchful eye on Tav as she chatted with Shadowheart at her tent. He was so focused on Tav that he could've missed a world-changing plot twist on the page in front of him.

Sweaty palms clutched the oversized book tightly. Gale kept his gaze down, desperately trying to be subtle about the fact that he was staring at her. Their time in the weave together echoed in his mind and he felt an intense heat rising up within him.

How could she think of them kissing? Gale never even dreamed of it. Now, she was barely giving him the time of day, as if she hadn't just brought up the thought of them sharing a romantic moment. He felt so confused, embarrassed, and flustered.

Gale didn't exactly hate the idea of her lips. Actually, he noticed just how plump they were and what it would be like to kiss them.

He cussed himself under his breath. This was no time for love. Feeling guilty, it only resurfaced old heartbreak with Mystra. How he craved to be better than the man he used to be.

Gale nervously bit down on his lower lip, slowly peeling away the skin as his mind raced. Did he say something wrong? Did he scare her away with his burdens? Or the orb that cursed him? He reasoned that she was someone he could trust, but he couldn't ignore the fact that Tav was incredibly attractive. She was exactly his type.

STEALTH CHECK: FAILED.

As Gale lowered his book to peek another look, his soft brown eyes were met with another pair. He jumped back with a small gasp and clutched his book like it was the last thing on earth. His face instantly burned red from embarrassment.

"Hey Gale," Tav said, trying to sound casual. She placed a hand on her hip and raised her eyebrow with a knowing smirk. "I saw you back there. Are you okay?"

Tav paused, studying Gale's reaction. She thought he was a nerdy-nice guy, but his lingering gaze towards Shadowheart made her heart sink a bit. Taking a deep breath, she continued.

"Listen, if you like Shadowheart, I'm willing to make a deal with you. Let's just forget about what happened the other night." She flashed him a reassuring smile, hoping to salvage any bond between them.

Gale exhaled a heavy sigh of relief, feeling as if he had just survived a heart attack. His body relaxed a little as Tav spoke, causing his eyes to widen in contradiction. "I assure you," he blurted out in a teacher-like tone,

"I was not looking at Shadowheart." Gale's mouth moved faster than his brain could keep up with, and he quickly realized he had just let the cat out of the bag. As his words hung in the air, a wave of embarrassment washed over him. He had unintentionally confessed something he had been trying to keep secret.

"Oh-" Tav's eyes widened as the realization hit her, letting out a small gasp, "Oh!" Before she cracked a nervous, flustered smile, her cheeks flushing a soft shade of red. "I uhm...wow." she chuckled, crossing her arms and rubbing the side of her arm in shyness, "What a relief.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! What was he doing?

Gale nervously ran his fingers along the spine of the book, trying to keep his hands busy. He cleared his throat before speaking, his voice soft and apologetic. "I'm sorry. I tend to get carried away with my words. Please forgive me for my blabbering mouth."

Tav smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with something Gale couldn't quite put his finger on. Her cheeks had a rosy hue to them that made his heart skip a beat. Was it possible that she felt the same way he did?

His knees grew weak as he heard her say, "It's quite okay, I don't mind at all." He could hardly believe it - was it really okay with her? Could she feel the same way he did?

A wave of guilt crashed over Gale as he thought of his past heartbreak. It was an unfamiliar territory with Tav, but also strangely invigorating. His heart raced and he felt a renewed sense of importance - something he had been missing for far too long. Gale couldn't deny that he was enjoying the feeling of being wanted and desired. Something Mystra had been revoking from him for so long.

Gale smiled shyly and looked down at the ground, unable to meet Tav's gaze. She brought the heavens to the earth realm in a way he never thought possible - her presence made his old, rusty heart start to move again and he couldn't deny the pleasure it brought. But at the same time, it scared him to open up his heart after so long, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for it. Or how to even fix himself to be better for her.

Tav's infectious giggle and lighthearted teasing echoed in the air as she remarked, "You're welcome to stare all you want, but I would much rather have your company than distant looks." She winked and intertwined her hands together, clasping them in front of her body before flashing a soft, knowing grin.

Tav slowly backed away, her gaze never straying from Gale's puppy eyes. With a final, lingering look, Tav disappeared to her tent, her graceful sway still lingering in the air.

Gale couldn't help but be drawn to her beauty, mesmerized by the gentle sway of her hips and the peacefulness of her aura. He let out a soft breath of admiration as he mouthed the word 'wow'.

His thoughts trailed off as he wondered to himself: Have I already fallen for her? He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a flutter of nerves in his stomach. Even with this tadpole, Tav made it so hard to concentrate on the mission.

Yes, he was already in love and it consumed all his guilty feelings into something happier. His heart was light for Tav. How he wished to properly pursue Tav without this dammed tadpole.

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

[noroi1000]

could i request a gojo x yn where yn is a famous supermodel while gojo is like businessman mafia and she meets him in a part for influential ppl and some rival of gojo attack the party to catch gojo but can't do it and to save y/n gojo takes her with him in a hurry to make sure she's fine ( bro fell in love at first sight while y/n doesn't really care bcs yk very hard to be impressed type of lady ) but a plot twist in this setting sort of is that there has been cases of many murders recently and the serial killer is impossible to catch ( the killer is y/- ok yes u get it but she killed them bcs she ruined her family or sum like that so our baddie is taking revenge ) well this is a dark theme dark romance request so yep ofc there's dark content and no one knows abt y/n's past at all despite her status no matter how hard they try and gojo after taking her makes her stay with him bcs she's one of the few ppl who saw his face so for privacy purposes and gojo barely finds out abt y/n's "dark deeds" when she throws hints playfully ( she's kinda devious morally grey sort of woman ) and idk what to add much more honestly but yea a smexy romantic love story ( SUB GOJO PLEASE 🙏😍😩 ) and gojo brings her a person to kill every year on her bday bcs she feels "stabby" ( mindfuck book series ref if ykyk ) also ofc y/n continues her career as a supermodel bcs 💅🏼👠. as another personal preference don't make y/n younger as it's uncomfy to me so yeah jsjdndbdnfn

whew this was quite a lot

have a good day !

Beautiful Vengeance

cover by @blvckryx my advisor and friend

paring: Mafia boss Gojo x model reader (killer)

words: 4,7k

warnings: murders, violence, guns, some kidnaping, smut (sub Gojo/dom reader)

Your mother always wanted you to have a good life. That's why when you told her you wanted to be a model when you grow up, she supported you as much as she could. To give you what you might need to make your dreams come true.

Your career took off when you were a teenager. When you were 16, you won a modeling contest, and your name made headlines.

And because you took the victory from one person, your life was about to end...

You competing with a girl whose family was more important than yours. You won anyway thanks to your innate charm, which made you stand in the first place and people considered you a beautiful, future model.

Thanks to this, your career could continue to roll and grow. And you couldn't take that chance.

You've worked so hard. You were the pride of your parents.

But your only opponent was a spoiled female dog who after losing to you all she wanted was to get rid of you.

She was the niece of mob boss Q. A man going by the name Q, who made his living by killing people for hire, dealing drugs and weapons. Even human trafficking. His mafia teams were everywhere.

You didn't know about it until you saw a group of people enter your house.

You were in your room then, and you heard screams and sounds of fighting.

As you quickly made your way down to your parents' living room, all you saw was pools of blood covering the soft carpet.

And three people dressed in black with black masks on their faces. In their hands bloody knives that they used to make your parents lie on the floor with open but dead eyes.

You were sad. You were afraid. You lost your parents. You wanted to cry over their loss. They were everything to you. They loved you, you loved them. You could have lived with them 16 years of your life. And now... It's all over.

Or you die and join them. To shorten your suffering.

But something else popped into your mind. To make them suffer.

You could have died at their hands, or you could have gotten revenge for your parents by killing them.

And you want revenge for the destruction of your life...

So you silently walked over to the cupboard until the opponents saw you, and unscrewing the bottle you let the water flow out of the plastic, soaking the entire floor where one of the people was standing.

You smashed a nearby lamp on his head and stabbed him with the sharpened glass at the end. Throwing the damaged item onto the wet floor, you jumped back quickly, letting his body quiver with the current coursing through him.

You hit the other's neck with your elbow, pulling his head back until you heard a crack.

Such easy ways to kill someone...

You've already killed two people with your own hands. Even if the metallic, disgusting smell of blood was nauseating.

Before you were stabbed by the last man, you took the knife from the dead body, and plunged the bloody blade into his chest.

While his body was still moving, he managed to scratch your head with the tip of the knife, just above the ear. Cutting off some of your shiny hair. Making your ear and the side of your neck covered in drops of blood.

The man in front of you writhed in pain as you pushed the knife hilt towards him, holding the knife in it. Stuck in his sternum in the chest.

Even though you saw the fear of death in his eyes, you felt no regret. Even if he cried and looked at you pleadingly, you showed no mercy.

Just like they had no mercy for your parents.

As he fell to the floor, the knife fell out of his chest, staying in your hand. Covering your hands in scarlet liquid.

When he was twitching and moving away with the last strength, you just walked over to him, and sitting on his stomach, you drove the knife into his heart, slowly watching the life fade from his eyes.

You felt your pajamas soaking in warm sticky blood. However, you didn't let go of the blade as you walked over to your parents and hugged them, not caring how dirty and bloody you were. You slowly and gently closed your eyes and left the house. Heading to a place where you know where a girl used to live surrounding herself with people with "Q" marks on their clothes.

There was a calm expression on your face as you walked straight down the runway, focusing on going perfect. The flashes of the flash bouncing off your eyes. The outfit you're wearing looks so good on you. One of the collections of one of the most famous fashion designers has been selected for you. Alternating with two other models, you go out there, showing the clothes on your body for less than a minute. A then you go back to change into your next outfit, and leave when it's your next turn.

It was your job.

You like it. You are a famous model.

And you don't mind that people only look at what your body looks like.

You go to clothes exhibitions, you take part in advertisements for clothes, cosmetics, nail polishes, jewelry. You are the face of many advertisements.

A lot of people who hire you choose you because you're sexy. And there is mystery in you. And your eyes show killer sexiness.

Your pose is flawless, sophisticated.

Everyone who knew you talked about this mystery in photos and videos. Something obtained without photomontage and without any additional make-up.

And Dark Beauty when you're seen in the ads for the blood red collection. Everything from lips to nails was a rich red.

That color just reminded you of what had happened over the years of your life. You don't care as long as no one knows about it.

Besides, your revenge isn't quite complete yet.

When you were 16, you swore revenge on those who hurt your family and you. You are 23 now. You are a famous model that neither the media nor anyone knows the whole truth about.

Nobody knows anything about your childhood, nobody knows anything about your past.

"Our killer only kills those from Q? Pretty good..." the white-haired man muttered, looking at the lists of names killed by one person this month. Three people. He couldn't feel sorry for these people. Each of them had the symbol of the Q family. How could he worry about the death of his enemies?

"Gojo-san, there's going to be a fashion show party soon with Q's boss."

He looked at the man who had spoken to him.

He stood up, adjusting his white shirt, adjusting the collar. He put on a black jacket and black glasses hiding his face.

"I couldn't miss it. Let's get together, guys. Time to bust some Q's heads."

Upon arrival, Gojo sat in a chosen spot next to the raised stage for models.

Soon after, the lights all around went out. The stage was lit.

This made it difficult for them to find their target.

So they decided to wait until the main banquet and party started to catch their enemies then.

Those who hinder his mafia cannot exist. Creating a business is a daily routine for the great "Six Eyes. And when people who have contracts with him are suddenly found dead with a "Q" burned into their skin, he can't sit idly by.

When he watched the fashion show, he thought it was everything he had seen before. All models the same, with fake smiles, with everything to make them even more attractive to the viewer. In none of them, in his opinion, was one whose eyes reflected the soul. And Six Eyes draws attention to human eyes. He knows people's eyes when they show fear or anger. When they show emotion. According to him, there was nothing interesting in the eyes of these women.

Until you came out from behind the curtain, walking calmly ahead. In an elegant black dress.

Your face showed a certain coldness, but warm at the same time. Your eyes were so mysterious.

White hair caught your attention, and you looked at him once.

And then, the mysterious darkness in your eyes made his heart beat faster.

Despite your emanating true model face, coupled with a nice façade, he felt your beauty was deadly. And he liked it very much. Mysterious danger.

A beautiful cat that can scratch her claws at any time. Even to death.

His eyes sparkled behind his glasses as he felt a little blush appear on his cheeks.

It was the first time he fell in love with someone at first sight.

No... It was the first time he truly fell in love. And he didn't want to lose this chance.

That's why he memorized as many details of your face as possible to catch you at the party after the fashion show. Because he sincerely hoped you'd be there.

Even if this party here may be bloody and trashed tonight.

But the moment everyone heard a few shots and one man fell to the floor lifeless, Gojo knew that this was no time for love or fun for him.

After all, he came here to get rid of enemies in an easy way.

And the orders to anyone who came with him said only: "If you see someone from Q, shoot without hesitation. They're definitely here."

All the people panicked and started to run.

And then each of them took out a gun and started shooting at the enemies.

When the white-haired man saw that you were standing behind the curtain on the stage, without a moment's thought he ran ahead, jumped on the platform and pulled you on his shoulder, to sit behind a meter high and shoot to protect you. His goal in sight has already killed three opponents today.

"What're you-?!" You screamed as you pulled away from him.

You already had a plan to approach one of the Q's from behind and slit his throat!

And he interrupted you.

"Don't be afraid, you won't die." He said to you.

You couldn't see his eyes clearly through his glasses. But you know he's not a cop.

You are in the middle of a fight between mafias.

Arrows started raining in your direction and he then quickly pulled you in front of him, making you kneel in front of him, and he lowered your head to his chest as he bent down so they wouldn't shoot him.

As he knelt, leaning forward, you were underneath his body. That's how he protected you.

You don't know why he did it. But you guess there's a deeper meaning to it.

It was the first time anyone protected you. It was nice of him. Because that man didn't even know you. You only looked at each other once during the show. Few minutes ago!

When there were fewer shots in your direction, you crawled out from under his chest, heading around the narrow stage.

And you, too, reached into your thigh and pulled out a folding knife.

Ignoring the screams of the white-haired man behind you and the shots, you kept walking. Until you finally saw a man with a "Q" tattoo on his neck.

You literally felt the knife sharpening in your hand and you quickly walked over to him without making a sound and smashed the knife into his neck. And then to the side of the head.

You quickly pulled away and sheathed the knife to check for blood. Fortunately not.

You were pulled to your feet by the same man who tried to save you right after all the shots had stopped.

You looked at his face without glasses.

You noticed the beauty and unique vigor of the eyes.

You heard another shot.

You looked to the side to see a dark haired man firing a gun at a man who was sitting with his back against the stage to make sure he was dead. With his head on the side. Because of this, no one could see the hole in his temple and neck, which is why he died.

"That's everyone. None of them managed to escape." He said, addressing the white-haired man. "What about her? Shoot? You don't have glasses."

He pointed the barrel of the gun at you.

You'd love to fight. If only that guy's hands weren't on your shoulders.

"She saw my face, huh... It's okay. We're taking her with us." He said with a smile.

"What?!" you shouted pissed off.

"Baby, you couldn't see my face. It's not against the rules of my Mafia. No one except those closest to me has seen my face or knows my real name. According to the rules, I should kill you or lock you up so you don't tell anyone. However, killing you would be a great loss. You're so beautiful and you got me curious... I don't want to kill someone I fell in love with."

"...Hold on!" You screamed as you pushed him, but he only held you tighter.

"Come on. I just have to admit there's something mysterious about your eyes. What you show on stage is not the real you, is it?"

"Fuck off!"

"Aw, honey..." he mumbled sadly.

He started to drag you by the wrist to the car. And even though you kept leaning against you, when the other man helped him to immobilize your arms, you were put in the car and he got in right behind you. The door was closed.

You noticed the black window in front of you, separating you from the driver.

That's good. Maybe you can kill him.

When he looked away for a moment, you put your hand under your dress, pulling your knife from the belt on your thigh, and suddenly jumped into his lap, putting the blade to his throat.

"Hey, baby, this is how you repay me for helping me? Understand that these are the rules we have." He said with a smile, hands raised in front of you.

"I could handle myself." You growled.

"Such a dangerous, beautiful woman. What part is the real you?"

"Who are you?! Someone from Q?!"

"Slow down a bit. Actually, it's like I'm taking you, so I should be the one asking the questions. But okay. I'm Six Eyes. Mafia boss. And when it comes to Q, I'm their biggest adversary."

You wondered if you should trust him. He didn't seem threatening now. Also, there was no Q anywhere here.

Holding the knife to his throat, you hesitated for a moment on what to do.

This caused his hands to quickly pull you down to the seat. His both hands held your wrists while his hips touched your ass as you lay on your stomach.

"If I was from Q, I'd rather kill myself than be there. And besides, everyone from Q would pay no attention to anything. They would just tie you up, rape you, kill you, and then dump your body in a ditch. Did I do that?"

"If you tried, I'd castrate you." You growled.

"Dangerous. I like it. However..." he let go of your wrists and sat in his place, giving you space. "I don't know if you could do something for me. I must admit your ferocity and hostility is strong. But let's say I'm the Mafia boss and you're the model."

"Do not underestimate me..."

"So tell me, (y/n) (l/n), why shouldn't I underestimate you? Tell me something about you. Because you are famous, but your biography is not known by anyone."

You were locked up in the large villa that was his home for several days. Why? Because he didn't want to lock you up in your old garages. He didn't want you gagged and bound while you sat there for who knows how long.

Your relationship was closer because you liked him. However, there was still some tension between the two of you.

Him, the annoying, selfish asshole and egotist who spoke to you the way he wanted to, and always came in when you least expected it.

He was able to come to you in the bathroom while you were taking a bath.

And he joined you.

That's why things became intimate between the two of you quickly, even though you weren't even a couple. You could just be considered friends now.

And you both liked the relationship you already had.

Nothing changed for the next two weeks.

It doesn't matter how many times you hit him with a pan until he finally let you go.

Of course he didn't because he acted like a child after being hit on the head with a pan. He pretended to cry.

You took good care of him and checked him for any head injury. Everything was fine. So you didn't have to worry.

And then he wouldn't let you get out of bed, wanting to make you feel guilty for doing it.

He was lying on your stomach, making you rub and stroke his head because it hurt. And it was your fault.

You apologized to him, and what else were you supposed to do?

It was your revenge for him locking you in here. And for skipping one of the most important performances where you were supposed to show clothes on stage. However, you couldn't complain, because as compensation for your lost money, you received from him a wardrobe worth half a year of your work. Or even more.

If only he was still good at sex, then you wouldn't complain so much. Because your partners were terrible. It's as if they couldn't do anything.

Besides, you've also been given a luxurious house that you have to live with him anyway.

"Come on. I already apologized to you..." you said, running your fingers through his white hair.

"But it hurt..." he said, pretending to cry.

"You don't even have a trace of it. There isn't even a bump on your head."

"But it still hurt...

"You've probably watched the ball through your opponents more than once, right?"

"Not at all..."

"You're in the mafia, Satoru..."

So yes, he told you his real name with the idea that you can't leave him and leave his house anyway. So your names were used by you on a daily basis.

"I've been in the mafia since my mother gave birth to me. I took it from my father... Besides, nobody ever shot me. Because I shot faster and more accurately than they did. When I was 15 I killed a spy who was looking for our weak point in our defense." He laughed, purring as your fingers swirled in his hair.

"So you had a bloody childhood too?"

"I doubt you shot anyone when you were a teenager." He laughed. "How old are you anyway?"

"I'm 23." You replied.

"Same as me! You see? We are made for each other!" He stood up suddenly, looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.

"Apparently you have a headache." You laughed as you saw him quickly lay down on top of you again. "Come on. Come, let me stroke you a little more."

"Which means you had a bloody childhood?"

"Do you really want to know? Don't you prefer that I leave my mysterious eyes?"

"You're smart and cold, or so you think. At fashion shows and commercials, you change it to a mysterious and sensual façade. However, you can care for someone else."

"I hit you with a pan. Is this supposed to be taking care of someone?"

He laughed slightly.

"It was different. Because I don't forbid you to be aggressive. I understand that you hate me. But now you're stroking and hugging me. You wash me while I wash you. We are not such enemies. Can you say we're lovers?"

"I don't know. But when I was 16, I also did something that probably no other model has ever done." You laughed.

He looked at you for a moment, analyzing what you said.

And 7 years ago, almost 10 people were murdered. And from that moment on, the murders of everyone in the Q group and family began. Starting with some of the closest ones from the family of the boss himself.

And these murders continue to this day. The murderer is impossible to catch because no one knows who he is. The gender of this person is unknown. No one knows what his goals are in these murders.

"This knife... You..." He looked at you questioningly.

"I have a knife scar under my hair. And the blood stains are washing off the skin." You said softly. "You can beat me if you know the truth now. If you think I'll be in the way or I shouldn't kill people like them. But remember that if you try, I will try to protect myself."

"You know it doesn't matter to me We may even be partners in crime. Because this is the woman I fell in love with at first sight." He hugged you, holding you tight.

Your actions for revenge are not ridiculed by him. On the contrary. He supports it.

And he promises that everyone from Q will die.

Because he fell in love with mysterious dark eyes. Eyes that from the beginning hid something murderous. So beautiful.

Just like all of you.

Your relationship was like lovers and enemies at the same time.

Or was it more like partners in crime now?

Dark lovers who don't care about the lives of their enemies. You has a mafia boss, the famous Six Eyes, wrapped around your little finger.

You guided him. His heart.

Such a powerful man was so small and sweet to you. So submissive.

That's why you could give that big little boy what he wanted.

You were still riding his cock until you were out of breath that night.

Or rather, his breath.

When you wonder if he's good at sex, you thought he was going to be average.

However, it is different.

He has a big nice dick.

It really stretches you out. It goes so deep. It hits all the best places.

You could barely feel the thin condom against his thick length as your pussy slid over him, lovingly inviting him into your tight warmth every time you lowered your hips.

His arms were bound with the string you found. It felt so good in his muscles.

He couldn't move while you scratched his arms and bit his neck.

You were riding him, making him moan. His hips pushed upward to meet your warmth. Your hand on the back was catching his balls and you were squeezing the skin in your palm. You pinched his thighs. You ran your hands over his lower abdomen, running your fingers along the veins running down his pubic bone.

Your fingernails ran over his chest, occasionally grazing his nipples.

While riding him, you massaged your clitoris to make you come faster. And you smiled as you watched as his head was thrown back as he red-faced moaned at the feeling of your pussy sucking him. His chest heaved rapidly.

His cock twitched inside you.

And then you pulled it out of you, leaving it out in the air. Only with a thin condom on it.

He moaned as your fingers tightened on the base of him, not allowing him to come.

It was his first ruined orgasm you gave him.

And you think he was always driving during sex. He was downstairs now, but he didn't protest. This guy just needed someone to dominate him the right way.

Very slowly and unbearably, you took the condom off him as the precum began to form a transparent puddle in the sperm reservoir.

Leaning down to his red cock, you kissed his head, listening as he moaned, his hips jumping as he felt a sudden touch against a sensitive part of his body.

He was so red and sensitive from a ruined orgasm. It was so cute.

You sat on his hips, and rubbed your pussy against his length, pressing his shaft against his muscular belly.

At the same time, you pulled his face down to your chest, doing something he always did when he saw you shirtless. You put his head in your breasts and he immediately started sucking on your nipples. Feeling the softness of your skin.

Soon after, he started moaning again and you stopped touching his cock again. If he wasn't tied up now, he would grab the length of it and start stroking himself to feel relieved. But alas, his hands were tied. There was nothing he could do and he was at your mercy.

You pressed your fingers against it again. Ensuring not one drop of his cum will come out of his tip. He couldn't come yet.

You want to see him throw his head back and moan when he wants to cum so much.

You sat on his cock when he didn't have a condom on, and he hissed through his teeth at the hot and tight feeling when he had nothing to separate your insides from his sensitive skin.

You grabbed the second condom and ripped open the wrapper. Only then did you get off of him, watching his wet tip drool.

You put the rubber all the way down his length, and then you sat on him again.

Warming his cock until his eyes were glassy and hazy and his face was so red.

As he threw his head back and his shoulders and hips trembled, wanting to start thrusting into you to come, you gave him some mercy.

You started jumping on top of him, smiling as you watched his heavy breathing and closed eyes.

The mighty mafia boss began to moan beneath you. And his ragged moans coupled with light sobs were the cause of his intense orgasm which was a combination of the three he was about to get. His thighs trembled as he came filling the condom inside you, the heat from his fluids pushing his sensitivity to the limit.

As you pulled him out of you, his cock fell soft against his stomach. You took the filled condom off him and tied it, putting the sticky rubber on his abs.

You lay down next to him, untying his hands, letting him pull your body against his.

Your nights together made him unable to resist you. So when you wanted to go back to your dream job, he had to agree.

Two people followed you across the city.

Even if he trusted you not to tell anyone.

He had your secret and you had his.

Little cameras in people's suits let him see what you were doing.

Well, he knew what you would do with those two.

Besides, he didn't feel sorry for them. They were two deserters who ran away from Q to join his mafia.

And he promised you that everyone who is or even was with Q will die.

That's why when he suddenly saw a pool of blood on the other side, he wasn't surprised and didn't even feel sorry for the two people.

Then he saw your face as you held the camera in one hand and your knife in the other.

"Not nice, Six Eyes ~. I don't like being followed. And we'll keep your punishment for that for later, Okay?"

When you said that, he felt a pleasant shiver that passed over his spine. And he couldn't wait for you to come home.

You were his dark queen.

His dark, beautiful queen will have her beautiful vengeance.

Because you will get everything.

Every year, on your birthday, he would take you to one place where the dirty work of killing was often done.

As a surprise, you got one or two high-ranking Q people.

Because his beautiful queen will always get what she wants.

So if you want revenge, you'll get it. In the best way for you.

You are his killer beauty. His deadly love.

[throneofsapphics]

Could you do one with Rhys where he catches reader using a toy on herself because Rhys has been in another court doing his high lord duties and she got needy and he came back earlier than expected? He eventually starts to fuck her and use the toy at the same time.

I just know this man would have a wide variety of sex toys and not be afraid to use them on reader or himself. Mostly on reader though lol. And has definitely gifted reader some to try out later on.

Have a great day🩷

surprise reunions

Rhysand x f!Reader

Summary: Rhys catches you alone in the bath. 

Warnings: smut, using toys, this is pure smut, plot is nonexistent, minors dni!

A/N: oh yes he absolutely would, at least a drawer full. this deviated a bit but it’s along the same lines! thank you for the request, I hope you have a great day! <3  

“Are you enjoying yourself darling?” 

You startled as Rhys’s voice fluttered through your mind. You’d been distracted, sorting through the variety of toys he normally kept hidden, but having lots of time on your hands, you managed to find them. 

“Rhys,” you called out nervously.  When no response came, you convinced yourself must’ve been a figment of your imagination, and continued. You could’ve sworn a low chuckle ran through your mind, but you were so focused on finding the right one that you drowned everything else out. 

You grinned and let out a little cheer when you found it - your favorite, a small black bullet with only three speeds - but it was all you needed by yourself, and you could use it in the bath. 

Rhys had been gone for a week and wasn’t due back for another three days. Normally, you’d never be this bold, but it was driving you crazy. Especially considering the new book you picked up yesterday.

You ran your bath, filling it with your favorite scents and checking the temperature before dipping in. You propped one arm up on the side, holding your book carefully away from the water, and held the small toy in between your legs. It wasn’t quite the same doing it on your own, but you slowly built up, starting with running the toy around the edges of your folds and clit, awkwardly managing to turn the pages at the same time. As soon as it hit your clit, you yelped and the book fell with a thud. Any other situation, you would’ve been pissed about it but now there was only you, the water, and this gods-blessed vibrator. 

The harsh porcelain of the tub hit the back of your neck, one arm bracing yourself on the edge as whimpers flew from your lips. A breeze floated across your nipples, hardening them and drawing a low whine from the back of your throat. 

“I didn’t know I was so replaceable.” Your hand froze. That wasn’t Rhys speaking in your mind … “No, it's not. Right here, y/n.”

At least he sounded amused. One thumb clicked the toy off as you slowly turned your head, spotting him leaning against the doorway. 

“Rhys I -” 

“Don’t let me stop you,” his lips turned up at the corners and you scented arousal and desire coming from him. But, you hesitated, chewing harshly on your bottom lip as you took him in. 

“You’re home early.” You whispered, your words barely audible. 

He shoved his hands in his pockets, striding over to stand next to the tub. One hand pushed the now sweaty strands of hair away from your face, before he crouched and picked up the book. Your cheeks blushed bright red as you tried to splutter out an explanation. 

“You know you can read whatever you want.” He commented, eyes lighting up in mirth as he combed his fingers through your hair before tossing the book to the side. 

“Are you mad at me?” His fingers gripped the back of your hair, not tight enough to hurt, but just enough for you to feel it. 

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing just a smidge. “Should I be?” You huffed, eyes rolling back. He was being difficult on purpose, and you knew that. 

“I missed you,” you hedged, reaching a hand out to stroke his cheek. He tilted his head, melting into the touch. 

“I missed you too, love.” His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, before tracing down the column of your throat, right between your breasts. His fingers ran across your ribs, circling your nipples, touching everywhere except where you needed it the most right now. 

“Are you going to join me? Or do I need to finish this off myself?” You hissed, you’d been so damn close.

“A week away from me and all of your manners disappeared.” He tutted, and lifted you under your arms, tugging you right out of the bath. You always forgot how damn strong he was. One thought from him, and you were dried. Your hand clutched the small toy like a lifeline, not wanting to lose it. He didn’t give you any time to react as he plucked it from your fingers, easily prying it again, and turning you so your hips hinged over the side of the tub. You yelped as your hands slid against the porcelain, trying to find something to hold on to, but his firm grip on your hips was the only thing keeping you steady. When you turned you head over your shoulders, Rhys’s clothes had disappeared. 

“I hope you were thinking of me,” he said mildly, two fingers stroking up your core, “reading that damned book.” 

You bit your lip to keep a smile in, “are you jealous of a book?” The smile disappeared as two fingers plunged brutally into you, crooking right to hit the soft spot that drove you crazy. “Of course,” you panted as he twisted his fingers, “I was thinking of you.” 

He flashed an image of his fingers inside of you, one hand firmly gripping your hip. The toy was forgotten by now, the pleasure he gives you being more than enough. Better than anything that could do. 

“There’s a good girl,” he purred into your mind, “i’ll make sure you remember that later.” 

Later? Again, you forgot everything - words lost to you, as his cock pressed against you, moving inch by inch. “More, please Rhys please,” you begged as he moved so damn slowly, teasing you. His fingers dug harshly into your hip, and he slammed into you without warning. You chanted his name as he fucked you, hard and fast - setting a brutal pace. Just as you were close, building right up to the edge, you felt something pressing against your clit. A second later, the vibrations hit you and sent you right over, your walls clenching around him. 

You heard him curse under his breath, your name falling from his lips as he spilled inside of you, his cum and your arousal mixed together to drip down your legs. 

He tugged you up, pulling you into his chest and letting you lean on him as the toy was tossed to the side too. “I think you need another bath,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“As long as you join me.” 

[pastel-peach-writes]

Would I be able to request an Ellie Williams imagine where she has a younger sibling, and they get hurt protecting her and Ellie is worried about them as they are self destructive, please?

You got it, dude!

"Dude, Chill Out." | Ellie + Sibling!Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: Ellie this, Ellie that. Believe it or not, being Ellie's younger sibling is complete ass. Everyone raves about how strong she is and how she's able to keep her own. Well, what about you? You're barely two years younger and you can keep your own just as well as she can. Besides, she needed your help this time.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Cursing, Self-Destructive Reader, Sibling!Reader, Angry Ellie, Mentions Of Joel, Long Fic, No Use Of Y/N, Custom Nicknames, Not Proofread, Mentions of Weed/Smoke/Alcohol

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

Breathe. Breathe.

Okay, now be still... look around. Clear. Run.

Through the trees, you zigzag. You're careful not to step on loose twigs and branches. Your throat is scratchy and your breath is as uneven as it's ever been.

From behind you, you can hear the squeals and hisses of whatever demonic creature you've stumped upon this time. You promised her you wouldn't get into trouble. You swore it was a quick trip. At least, it was supposed to be.

Your heart's in your stomach and your legs ache as if you've been running for days. You don't know how much longer you could go.

You glance back to see how far the creature is from you. You can't see anything with the deep gray fog that settled over the forest as nighttime came around. Even the tall tree trunks were unidentifiable.

A wail exclaims from what you thought was fog. The creature's face is bloodied and covered with rotten flesh and fungi. It roars, bringing its chest to the sky before going down on all fours and racing towards you.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" You're in for it now. You inhale sharply as you find any last of your strength in you to book it. Your thighs are screaming at you and your shoulders burn in every location possible.

You should've stayed home.

In the midst of your running, you fail to see a fallen tree trunk in your path. Instead of hopping over it, your shoelaces catch onto the bark of the tree.

You collapse over the trunk, and the wind violently punches out of you. You made first contact on the ground with your ribs, then your chest, and lastly your arms and face. Your legs scuff up against the wood.

Now you're not just feeling the burning of your muscles being overworked, but you're also feeling the burning sensation of many tiny cuts on your legs and arms. Possibly a few cracked ribs if you're lucky.

The creature roars again. You can smell its rotten stank as it comes closer.

Five feet.

Four feet.

Three...

Two...

Bang! Blood erupts from the middle of the creature's face. The bullet sends the creature flying and it lands on its back. More shots are fired into its chest to ensure its death.

You're not disgusted by the guts that exploded onto your face or your blood-soaked garments. Instead, you're afraid of what stands behind the gun.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Trailing up from her muddy, broken-down shoes to her jeans with dirty knees all the way up past her dark gray shirt and sage green button-down, you grin at Ellie. "Hey."

-

"Oh, come on! I'm fine!" you exclaim as Ellie drags you by your collar and into her home. She tosses you to her couch. You sit down with a plop. You scoff and fix your shirt.

"You're full of bullshit. You're scratched up and if I wasn't there to save your ass, you would've been dead," she says. With a grunt, your sister goes over to her desk. She scrambles through books and papers before taking out a tin box. "You're lucky you don't have any real injuries."

Does a bruised ego count as a real injury?

"Yeah, yeah," you mumble. "No one can beat Little Miss Perfect."

With her head cocked, Ellie whips around toward you. "What did you just say?"

She's using that tone a mother would use. The same tone a bully would use to make their prey cower when they try to stand up to themselves. She sounds like Joel. When did she become him?

"Nothing." Your eyes falter between the coffee table in front of you and her eyes. No, scratch that. Her green eyes are piercing into your soul. You stare at the coffee table.

Ellie scoffs. Despite the thick tension in the room, Ellie comes to your side. She crouches on the floor and guides your arm towards her.

You wince, turning away and locking your jaw.

"I thought you said you were fine," Ellie's smirk is apparent in her words. She lengths your arm towards herself. She takes a wet cotton and cleans the minuscule cuts the infirmary didn't notice.

You nearly screech at the burning and tingling sensation. "I am. You're just gripping my arm like I'm some piece of chicken and you're the predator."

"That doesn't even make any sense." Ellie's eyes stay locked onto your arm. After she cleans up the cuts, she applies cream and gives extra delicate attention to your bruises. In the end, she wraps your arm up with a bandage wrap to prevent the cuts from getting infected and gross. "There."

You glance at the bandage. The wrap around your forearm is tight, as it should be, and moving your arm from straight to bend is damn near impossible. The classic Ellie bandage stamp of approval. "Thanks."

Ellie stands with a groan. "No biggie. Just stop getting yourself into shit. I'm tired of saving your ass." She puts her first aid supplies back in the tin box before storing the box in its original place.

"Yeah, right," you stand to follow her. "You love saving me. It paints you as the hero of the town and gets you in good cahoots with whomever you pissed off now."

Ellie turns to glare at you but decides against it. Arguing with you over this subject wasn't worth it. She sighs instead. "Whatever, man. You coming to the party tonight?"

"I wouldn't call it a party. Parties are supposed to be fun."

Ellie snickers. She rests the small of her back on the edge of her desk She crosses her arms as she shakes her head amused. "You're not wrong there, but still, you should come. If I have to go--"

"--then I have to. I know how this works." You let a sigh escape from your lips. "Fine, but I'm not going to show up on time."

"Wouldn't expect you to."

-

When you tell Ellie you're going to be late for something, you mean it. You hate arriving early to parties earlier. If they were parties held in someone's house, you're forced to mingle with the host which could be an awkward situation if you're not close with them.

Additionally, you may be forced to help set up.

Coming in late means you can slip into the party unnoticed and the decorations are bound to be done. Also, everyone's past the introductions and getting rid of the awkward air.

When you're late to a party, all that's in the air is vibes and maybe weed, smoke, and alcohol. Regardless, there's no awkwardness, just vibes. And vibes are all you're here for.

You slip into the fairy light-lit barn dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and your favorite shirt. Oh, and maybe a coat you took from Ellie who took it from Joel.

There's no scent of smoke or weed that greets you and there's only a faint smell of alcohol.

The oldies must not be here.

In the middle of the barn were people dancing and enjoying each other's company. By the back walls were people sipping on drinks and chatting amongst themselves.

You scan the party for your people, Kate, Ren, and Wired, but they're not here. You further scan for Ellie and her crew, but they're not here either.

One con on arriving late to a party: sometimes you're too late and miss seeing your favorite people.

Your shoes scuff on the floor when you turn to leave. Before you're greeted with the cold, fresh air, a girl with a short black bob grabs onto your shoulder.

You groan in pain. You turn to face her only to find that she's absolutely hammered.

"Oh, sorry!" the girl slurs. With a finger pointed towards you, she gasps. "No way! You're Ellie's sibling, right? Oh, she was just here saying how she saved you from the forest earlier this evening. She's so cool!" a giggle interrupts her ramble, "she's always saving us here and protecting us. It must be awesome to have her as your sister!"

You feign a smile. "Yeah, it's great."

The girl giggles again. "It must suck to live up to her. Like, I would feel like, inferior towards her and how she acts for others. She's so selfless. It's admirable really. She's so awesome-- Hey, I went on patrol with her once--"

You tuned out the rest of her ramble, vent, mumbling -- whatever the hell she was doing, you tuned her out. You didn't need to hear how great your sister is. You already know. You hear it every day, all day, 24/7.

What you rarely heard was how awesome you are and how great you are at things. You're lost in her 5'5 shadow and it sucks. Ellie this, Ellie that. All things Ellie can fuck off. You were going to prove how great you could be. Then maybe all this Ellie talk could stop.

You leave the party, letting the girl continue to talk about Ellie. You're sure she has some sort of crush on your sister, but that was none of your business.

-

"Hey," Dina says as she walks up to Ellie with two drinks in her hand. "Did I just see your sibling come in and then leave?"

Ellie takes a glass from her hand. Her eyes never left the barn's entrance since you walked in and then walked out. "Yeah, I just saw them too."

Dina purses her lips to the side as she leans on the wall they're standing next to. "Think they're okay?"

Ellie nods. She takes a sip of her drink, letting it linger on her lips then tastebuds before finally swallowing the liquid. "Yeah, I didn't see any signs of distress or upset on their squishy face."

Dina laughs. "You talk about them like this to their face?"

Ellie takes another sip, letting the liquid go straight down this time. "'Course not. Who do you take me as? They'll be alright."

-

The next morning, you were on the rotation for patrol. Typically, whoever's in charge of the schedule and shifts would never put you and Ellie on the same rotation. Putting siblings on the same team could be a scramble sometimes.

Sometimes you get the dream team, other times you don't.

But when you left the party last night, you changed the schedule to make sure you were on the same shift Ellie was on. You also made sure you two got paired up.

Jesse would be fine. He can deal with not being with Ellie and Dina for the morning.

So far, patrol was fine. Calm horses, easy breeze, and quick conversation.

Ellie and Dina talked more than you, but you were fine with it. You weren't trying to prove how great of a talker you were, you were trying to prove how great of a protector you are.

And saving Ellie in front of Dina guaranteed town buzz. No offense to Dina, but she can't keep a town secret to save her life. It's okay though, everyone has their faults.

"Clumsy, if I have to tell your ass to keep your horse straight one more time, I'm going to lose it," Ellie barks.

And your fault was horse-riding.

It didn't matter how long you've been horse-riding or how many times Joel and Ellie tried to teach you, you could never get the concept.

"Sorry! I'm trying. She's being rowdy today," you pout as you move your horse's reign.

"Don't blame the horse, blame the rider," Ellie snickers. You give her a scowl in response, but she only laughs it off.

An hour or so into patrol and there was no chaos. Unfortunate for you because you need the chaos in order to prove yourself. You've tried to make chaos like, snapping a twig or maybe distracting the horses so they'll run away, but to no avail.

You three dock your horses momentarily to search through a building on foot.

The building is tall and abandoned, like most of the buildings nowadays. Greenery grows from the sides and the windows are simply frames. There are no window panes in sight.

Cautiously, Ellie walks inside the building first. She has her hand on her upholster and another one guides the flashlight. Though the sun was shining, it was natural for a place like this to have dark corners or areas to be discovered.

Dina waits patiently while you cross your arms with a scoff. "Why do you have to be the first one to go in?" you ask your sister.

She sticks out a finger to shush you. You roll your eyes but obey nonetheless. Ellie scans the building, still close to the entrance in case something is hiding in the shadows. When she determines the area to be safe, she invites you two inside. "Because," Ellie answers. "I'm..."

Ellie's eyes shift toward Dina. The girl is scanning the building as told, not paying mind to your sibling conversation. Ellie lets out a breath and continues but with a lower tone. "I'm immune. If something comes running out at me, I'll be fine. You two on the other hand?" she shakes her head, "I would be dumb to let anything happen to you two."

"Blah, blah," you wave her off. You walk further away from Ellie and discover the rest of the building on your own.

The building had five stories. The first two were pretty well lit with the morning light, the others not so much. Not to mention the wet and stinky stairways.

You stomp your way up the stairs with a scowl on your face. You keep a strong hold on your flashlight.

"Will you quiet down?" Ellie whisper-exclaims from the bottom of the steps. You ignore her. You didn't even know she was following you. "If something's here, you're going to attract it."

"I don't give a fuck. You're here anyways. You can save the day as usual." Your voice is bitter yet quiet. You speak to Ellie through your teeth. "Shouldn't you be with Dina anyway?"

"She can handle her own." Ellie quickly goes up the stairs to be closer to you. "We agreed she should keep watch while us two search through the other levels."

You scoff. "So, you trust her but you don't trust me."

"Did I say that?"

You shrug. "You might as well," you make an effort to have your stomps be heard. You open the door to the other level, but Ellie rushes in front of you to scan the level first.

When safety has been assured, Ellie walks in. "Well, I didn't. So, don't get your head wrapped up over shit that isn't even true." She uses her flashlight as her eyes as she steps further into the room.

You shut the door behind yourself. You don't dare to speak to Ellie anymore as you clear the level. Onto the next you go.

You and Ellie go up the stairs in silence. Per usual, Ellie checks the level first and then allows you to come inside.

"You know, I'm getting real sick and tired of your bullshit superhero act," you drop the bomb on her as you scan through cardboard boxes.

Ellie groans to herself, "Here we go."

"You always have to save people then flaunt it. Could you ever save someone and then swear secrecy? Do you have to blab your mouth like you're Dina every time you save someone?"

Ellie's jaw tenses. "Watch yourself."

"And here you go with that bullshit!" you toss the box aside. Something in the far corner creaks, but you both pay no mind. "You're not my fucking mom, Ellie! Hell, you're not Joel or any other parental figure in my life--"

"Good! I don't want to be any of those anyway. If I birthed you, I would have no clue what to do with myself," Ellie scoffs. "You're so fucking insane sometimes, you know that?"

You shrug, crossing your eyes over your chest. Her words stab you right in the heart and send tears to your eyes, but you don't let them show.

"You're always getting yourself into trouble. You say, 'Oh, I'm fine!' but then you come to me with a dislocated knee. You'll say 'Oh, I'm just going out for a bit,' but then come home bruised up with leaves in your hair, dirt and blood on your clothes, and if I'm truly lucky, your little friends would tell me you nearly came in close contact with a fucking infected," Ellie's voice grows the more she talks.

The creaking in the corner is more apparent. In fact, it's beginning to sound like more clicking.

"Ellie," you warn, your voice quiet.

"No, you wanna do this here? Let's do this then. There's never a day where I don't worry about you. Did you eat? Drink water? Are you in your bed safely tucked in at night or am I going to wake up in the morning and receive the worst news of my life?" Ellie's voice cracks.

You can barely see her eyes stare into yours. By the sound of her voice, you can tell she's getting choked up. Maybe even crying?

"You always get yourself into shit, Clumsy, and I--"

"Ellie, look out!" you exclaim as a hand shoots through the frail wall beside her. Ellie moves, but not a sound escapes her body. She turns to the hand, then back to you where she finds you're no longer where you were two seconds ago.

Instead, you're charging headfirst into danger. You break down the wall with the crowbar that was stashed in your backpack. The clicker runs straight toward you once it's free from the wall. You bash the bar on its head before taking a blade and jamming it in the clicker's throat.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Ellie asks. You wave her off. Instead, you walk inside the hidden room the clicker was in. You don't make an effort to scan the room like Ellie does. If something wants to come at you, so be it.

There were only two more clickers hiding in the room. You killed them both, not letting Ellie get a chance to save your ass.

Finishing up the room scan, you head over to a case of books. They're weathered and crusty, and the words on the pages bleed through. Ellie tries to spark a conversation again, but you ignore her once more.

You continue walking around the room with the floor creaking under you. Your flashlight shines a path for you to get out of the room, but you fail to see the giant hole in the ground. You step right through and fall three stories down.

Ellie calls out for you, but the moment she runs towards the hole, it's too late.

You land in a mist of cardboard boxes filled with packing supplies, but they don't do much in terms of protection.

"What the--" Dina mumbles. She turns behind herself to find you dropped in the pile of boxes with a broken arm and leg. You can't even look at her. The tears blur your vision and your head is scrambled from earlier actions and conversations.

Ellie shines her flashlight down the hole and sighs, "Only you, Clumsy."

-

You lie in your bed with your arm hoisted up and your leg resting on a stack of pillows. On your nightstand is a mug of cold soup, pain meds, and books to keep your mind busy, but it was all useless.

The day you were going to prove yourself to Jackson, you came home sharing a horse with Ellie and with broken bones.

"Oh, Ellie! Thank God you were there." "Imagine what would've happened if she wasn't there." "You're lucky you have such an amazing sister."

"Oh, fuck off," you groan. You turn your face into your pillows and groan once more.

"Oh, sorry," Ellie's voice goes through the muffling of pillows. "I can leave if you want."

You peel your face from the pillows. "No, sorry. That wasn't catered towards you."

Ellie nods. She plays with her hands as she steps further into the room. Inches away from the edge of your bed, Ellie's eyes flicker to everything else but you.

Your eyes, however, remain on her.

Your last conversation wasn't the best, that's something you both knew. But, you never knew how much she cared for you and went out of her way to protect you. You didn't need protection. At least, not from outside elements. Maybe from yourself.

You're too ambitious for your own good. You're too stubborn for your own good too. You believe you can do everything on your own when you can't. In fact, you're pretty sure you've done nothing on your own since the apocalypse broke out.

You try to be hyper-independent but instead, all you are is self-destructive.

"I'm, uh, sorry for what I said on patrol," Ellie's voice takes you out of your spiraling thoughts. "I didn't mean most of it. Like, the part of, uh," she scratches the back of her neck. "'Being lucky I didn't birth you'? One, that was weird... uh, two, I'm very lucky to have you the way I do. I'm sorry if I made you feel otherwise."

If you could shrug right now, you would, but everything hurts too much. "It's okay. I know I'm a handful."

"Maybe," Ellie walks to the side of your bed. "But isn't that your job? You're the younger sibling. You're supposed to get into trouble and I'm supposed to be the one to get you out of it."

"But I don't want you to. I want to get myself out of it."

"Oh, yeah? And how do you manage to do that? By dying?" Ellie's voice raises.

You deplete. You take your eyes off of her the moment her's lands on you. "You can go now."

"No, shit, Clumsy--"

"Stop calling me that. It's not cute, it's not endearing, it's fucking embarrassing."

"Okay, well," Ellie scans your room. It's been a minute since she's been in here. There are old porcelain sculptures of blueberries and pears scattered around your room. Most are chipped, but they're polished nicely.

On your bookcase, there are pictures of you with your friends and of you two with Joel. None of the two of you by yourselves. There are books in the case too, but they look to be untouched by you.

Ellie scans your room once more. There are speckles of blue around and even more porcelain sculptures of chipped blueberries. "How about Blueberry? Is that fitting?"

"It's fine." Your eyes remain on your window.

"Okay, well, Blueberry, I'm sorry. I really am. I've talked some things over with Dina, I guess I am a blabbermouth, but she helped me realize that, maybe you're feeling left out somehow or less than," Ellie finds her place by your bedside. "Is that true?"

"Could be."

"Right, well, Dina's a younger sister, you know that? She said that sometimes it can be hard to be your own person when your older sibling is amazing and all that shit, but I'm not amazing. I'm just me."

"Your point?"

"My point is, I wasn't trying to make you feel bad by saving you all the time. I was trying to do my part as your sister to protect you and I guess that blew up in my face," she sighs.

You finally face her. "I just wanted to prove I can be something besides Ellie's younger sibling who always gets themselves into trouble. I don't want to be known as the reckless one. I want to be strong and brave."

"But you are those things, Blueberry." Ellie's eyes motion towards the empty space beside you. You nod and allow her to sit. "I can't count all the times you went out after dark just because you heard something and wanted to ensure safety. Or however many times you stood up for the little guy. That's brave and strong."

"Not in the same sense of your strongness and bravery."

Ellie frowns. She puts a careful hand on your good thigh. "That's because you're not me. And if you spend the rest of your life trying to be someone else, you'll never be happy. No matter how hard you try, you'll never be me. You'll always be you and that's beautiful. Your friends like you for who you are. I like you for who you are. Why don't you?"

You fall silent. Your eyes well up with tears and your throat gets scratchy. With your eyes stinging, you try to move yourself close to Ellie.

You don't need to use your words to get what you want from Ellie. She already knows. She lies down, cradling your head in her arms as she does so. As you sob into her, she doesn't shush you. Instead, she draws circles on your good arm and kisses the top of your head. "I love you, Blue, and I want you to start loving yourself too. Start being you for you. Who cares about what others think?" she whispers.

You still don't have much to say. You let Ellie comfort you until the tears spill out until there are no more tears left to cry. You've spent all your time trying to prove you can be like Ellie, you kind of forgotten how to be yourself.

From this moment on, you make a promise to yourself:

Be you for who you are. The world does not need two Ellies.

WC: 4,263

A/N: I wouldn't mind two Ellies but, okay. LMAO

[blurredcolour]

I Wish You Love | Part Three

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Lewis Nixon x Housemaid!Female Reader

The letter you never intended to post has a slew of consequences and life will never be the same for anyone – you and Captain Nixon most of all.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Angst, Class Divide, Infidelity, Dishonesty, Minor Reader Injury, Blood, Language, Smoking, Alcohol Consumption, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Reader's nationality is British and liberties have been taken in describing her background and family life for the sake of plot. No physical descriptions or y/n used. A good portion of this fic will be letter-based. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 5211

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

Lieutenant Nixon’s reply arrived in early October. The weeks since the family’s return to Lydiard had been bleak. The change from summer to autumn typically brought with it a renewed sense of energy, vigor, and anticipation for the festivities to come at the end of the year. All you seemed to feel was the life draining out of the world around you, underwritten by a growing sense of dread that culminated in the arrival of the morning post that day.

You lost your breakfast in the bathroom, hands shaking as they wiped your mouth clean, unable to face the contents of the envelope. Miss Isobel, for her part, was basking in her re-insertion into her social circle around Lydiard – gentlemen callers, vapid daughters of landed gentry. She barely noticed how unwell or vacant you looked, though catching your own reflection in her mirror as you fixed her hair reminded you to get a grip until you could take Dash for his walk.

Even once you’d reached the lake shore, the dog settling into a more relaxed pace after his initial excitement at the outset, you remained reluctant to open it. It felt as though there were a ticking time bomb lurking in your dress, awaiting one wrong move. The only problem was, you’d already made that wrong move.

“No going back now.” You muttered grimly and gingerly slid the letter from its envelope.

The pages crinkled in your hand as your gripped them fiercely, trying with all your might to swallow past the lump in your throat. You weren’t entirely sure which part was worse, reading him pledge his undying devotion to another woman or the fact that he would not give up on her unless she were to outright refuse him. Because despite the utter mess you had made of it, there was no possible way you could ever find it in yourself to do that.

And so, like the complete coward you had become, you took a page from Miss Isobel’s book and simply did not reply. As you should have done all those months ago in May. It was her intention to leave his correspondence unanswered, you were just, finally – after a long and twisted path – honouring her wishes. Never mind that it turned all food to sawdust in your mouth and robbed you of sleep, changing you into some sleep-walking wraith.

Letters continued to arrive from him, every three weeks or so, and were promptly stored away in the bottom of your suitcase with the rest. Sweet Izzy was as good as dead. There was only the real article left and she was just as much a handful as she’d ever been, carrying-on with some doctor at the prison camp now. The air turned cold, sparkling frost replaced the morning dew on the lawn. You barely noticed it as you allowed Dash to drag you along behind him on his daily sojourns.

Your father was begging you to come home on your day off before Christmas, maybe it would do you good to get out of Lydiard for a while – out of your grief-stricken stupor and back into the land of the living. Returning Dash to his favourite cushion in the sitting room one morning, you quickly grabbed a tray to collect one of the cut crystal glasses that had surely been left in there by a house guest the night before. You were crossing through the front hall towards the back stairs when you heard Mr. Atkinson open the front door.

“Good day, Captain Nixon.” His tone was as professional as ever, but you still managed to note the hint of surprise as you whirled around to see the very man whose letters you had been avoiding standing there in his dress uniform.

Two gold bars now adorned his garrison cap. So that was why Mr. Atkinson had called him Captain. Struggling to inhale a full breath, you realized much too late that you had lost sensation in your fingertips, the sound of the tray and its fragile cargo impacting the ground overtaking whatever Captain Nixon had said in reply to Mr. Atkinson’s greeting.

Cursing under your breath, you crouched quickly to snatch up the tray, frantically trying to pluck the shards of broken crystal from the floor with your bare fingers as your heart slammed against your rib cage like a bird trying to escape its confines. A particularly large, jagged edge caught the flesh of your palm, making you hiss as blood welled scarlet against your skin.

“Whoa, easy there.” Captain Nixon’s voice was a lot closer than you expected, making you jolt back, startled. “Let me see that.” He coaxed gently as he grasped your wrist in one hand, producing a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket with the other. “You really shouldn’t be picking up broken glass with your bare hands, you know.” He chided with a soft grin, expertly wrapping your hand with the soft, expensive cotton.

You watched silently, wondering how many times he’d performed similar acts on his fellow soldiers in the heat of battle. You’d never realized quite how good his aftershave smelled, how the hints of vanilla and allspice wrapped around you before.

“There, all better.” His voice shattered through your retreat inward, and you looked to him quickly, barely meeting his warm eyes, the same shade as his favourite whiskey, before you had to look away lest your expression betray your inner turmoil.

“Thank you, Captain.” You murmured softly and shuffled backward again before pushing to your feet.

“Almost makes me sorry I got promoted.” He smirked and your brow wrinkled in bewilderment as he rose to his feet. “Miss being called ‘leftenant.’” He shrugged and you gulped as tears stung your eyes with a sudden viciousness.

“If you’ll follow me to the sitting room, we’ll find Miss Isobel, sir.” Mr. Atkinson stepped forward, shooting you a reproachful look.

You tensed rigidly with a quick nod. One of the footmen had arrived with a broom and dustpan to continue cleaning up your mess and you surrendered your tray filled with broken parts, wondering if they could all see the shattered pieces of your heart laying there upon it too. Dashing up the stairs towards Miss Isobel’s room, you endeavoured to regulate your breathing, not needing to dissolve into hysterics now. There was no escape. Your Waterloo had come, it seemed, and you may as well face up to the mess you created with your own two hands and a pen.

Knocking on the door, you entered only once Miss Isobel’s voice called out to you, finding her lounging on her bed with the newest edition of her favourite magazine.

“Miss Isobel, I wonder if I might have a moment of your time.” You clenched your fists at your sides, digging your nails into the heels of your palms, the ersatz bandage on your right hand driving home the purpose and necessity of what was about to be the most awkward conversation of your entire life.

She let the magazine drop to the duvet dramatically with an annoyed, expectant look upon her face as you clicked the door shut behind you.

“Captain Lewis Nixon is downstairs, Miss–”

“What?” She interrupted sharply and you took a shaky breath, seizing the last threads of your composure in a death grip.

“He’s come because…well I’m afraid he believes…” You struggled to sum up the litany of your offences tidily.

“Oh, do get on with it.” She huffed, tossing the periodical aside and sitting up, patting at her hair vainly to check the style was still in place.

“Captain Nixon is under the impression that you have been writing to him since May, Miss.” You forced the words out in a rush, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as she stood slowly.

“Whyever would he think that? He been drinking too much again?” She laughed snidely, smoothing her skirt.

Clenching your jaw, you shook your head firmly. “No. Because I’ve been writing to him in your name.” Your voice trembled but you managed to keep it at an audible volume, standing completely still as she stalked over to you with a cold rage in her eyes.

“Why you sneaky little bitch.” She sneered before her palm lashed out to smack across your left cheek with a harsh ‘crack.’

Blinking rapidly as your eyes immediately began to water, in retrospect you wished you had given her a piece of your mind, but in reality, all that tumbled out of your mouth was a series of apologies. “I am so very sorry, Miss, I just wanted him to feel supported while he fought overseas. I know it wasn’t my place and I swear I meant nothing by it I–”

“You are dismissed.” She cut you off with words you dreaded and yet expected all at once. “You filthy fortune hunter. Did you really think he’d fall for such stupid tricks?! What a foolish girl you were all along, just like I told Papa. He’s married you know?” The cruel glee that lit up her eyes before she began to laugh like a jackal made your blood curdle, the word ricocheting through your brain.

…married….Married…MARRIED…

“Now remove yourself from this house at once, I never want to see your face again. I will be sure to inform Atkinson and Papa just what you’ve done, you horrid girl.” She reached behind you to wrench to door open and pointed, sending you fleeing from the room towards the back stairs with that singular, devastating word still echoing in your mind as your vision began to blur.

Bursting into your room, your former room, you collected your limited number of possessions and roughly shoved them into your suitcase and duffel bag. Stripping out of your serving dress for most likely the last time you would ever wear such a garment, for you were surely leaving without a reference, you pulled on a wool dress and coat before taking your things down the servants’ stairs to the kitchen. Ignoring Mrs. Brigham’s call from the kitchen you dashed out to the garage to fetch your bicycle, strapping your luggage to the back fender and taking off down the side drive as fast as your legs could peddle.

Eventually you had to slow down, legs aching, lungs burning, allowing yourself to glide along the asphalt of the road into Swindon as you finally permitted the tears that had been brimming at your waterline to slide down your cheeks. In truth you should be more upset about the loss of your job, especially as the main breadwinner in your family, but it would be easy enough to get a job at the Railway Works. It most likely would pay better and have shorter hours too – your father had just never approved of you becoming a ‘canary girl’ with skin and hair tinged yellow from hours of pouring TNT into shells for use by the military. Well, he’d have to get over that now, if he wanted to keep the flat and have food in his belly.

No, the far more distressing thing in all this was the fact that you’d allowed yourself to develop such deep-seated feelings for a married man. It was honestly no surprise that Miss…just Isobel now…had carried on with him despite that knowledge, but that was a line you would have never allowed yourself to cross knowingly. You let out a wry, watery laugh. What a pathetic line to draw amidst lying, impersonation, and god knows what other sins you had surely committed. Your bicycle wobbled to a stop as it ran out of momentum, and you slowly began to pedal once more to keep progressing towards town. The heavy load would certainly double the usual time it took to get there.

The sound of vehicle approaching from behind had you carefully steering toward the shoulder, giving them as much room to pass as possible. As the American military jeep drove slowly past, you held your breath, heart plummeting to your stomach as it too pulled off onto the shoulder, stopping a few feet in front of you. Captain Nixon jumped from the left side and began striding back towards you with a very determined look upon his face. Of course, Isobel had told him everything, she had made it clear she would, you had been naïve to hope to avoid this moment. Dismounting carefully, you turned your head to quickly wipe at your face, wincing at the tenderness in your cheek born of Isobel’s palm, before turning back to find him standing directly in front of you.

“So, it was you.” His voice was quiet, quieter than you’d ever heard him speak, lacking his usual playfulness.

“Yes.” Your voice refused to come out in anything above a whisper, so you nodded to be sure he understood your answer, gripping the handlebars so tightly the cut on your palm ached in protest.

“Was it some kind of joke, then?” He scoffed, crossing his arms defensively and your eyes widened in horror at the idea of doing something so cruel.

Captain Nixon’s eyes flicked your throbbing cheek, and you wondered if it had started to swell. “No.” You replied with a firm shake of the head.

 “Did…did you mean a word of it?” His voice was laced with a dangerously tempting hint of tenderness and you felt your lower lip tremble precariously.

Of course you had, every word of it in fact, but there was no way you could admit to such things now that you knew the full truth. Clearing your throat painfully you took a deep breath to steel your nerves.

“I see you’re not wearing your wedding ring, Captain. Were you afraid you’d lose it?” You replied to his question with one of your own, feeling every bit of pain that unfurled across his impeccable features as though it were your own.

Gritting your teeth against it, lest you give in to your weaker impulses, you steered your bicycle around him and continued on your way to town. Captain Nixon did not stop you. Did not say a word.

Regret would stalk you for weeks, your harsh, high-handed words replaying cruelly in your mind any time you read or heard about the surprise German offensive through the Ardennes.

Your hasty packing job had inevitably resulted in failure and Helen kindly took it upon herself to deliver the last few items you had missed on her day off. Word of your transgression had spread like wildfire through Lydiard House, and while she did not seem to approve of what you had done, she did have sympathy for Captain Nixon who had apparently ‘departed immediately for France’ after leaving that morning. It could not have been a full week before the Germans pushed through into Belgium and his Regiment was deployed in desperate defence.

The Battle of the Bulge was discussed endlessly at your easily acquired job at the Swindon Railway Works factory where you were immediately put on the assembly line filling shells with TNT and gingerly tapping detonators into their caps. Tap too hard and a girl could lose her limbs – it was something everyone on the floor had witnessed at least once, you were told. The exacting work was fairly sufficient to keep your mind off the fact that you had sent a man to his possible death with nothing but harsh admonishment.

If he had found you not fifteen minutes later, you may have been able to bite your tongue, to answer him truthfully. Surely, he had deserved it after the dishonesty you had perpetuated, but your pride and cheek were smarting awfully from your ill treatment at Isobel’s hand, and you had taken it out on him. For all your judgment of her as a twenty-five-year-old spoiled child, you had behaved no better when it truly mattered. You had not been very forthcoming with the details upon arriving home to your father, freshly unemployed, but he had tolerated your silence and poorly hidden tears as you made up your old twin bed in the corner of the sitting room.

You were also able to save a little money, no longer needing the neighbourhood girl to come by the flat to clean once a week as you were able to manage that outside your hours at the factory. In fact, you found yourself with too much free time, and a dramatic increase in wages, deciding to visit a used bookshop to pick up a novel to read just after New Year’s. The display in the shop window with a relatively new World Atlas caught your attention and you found yourself leaving with it as well as a well-worn copy of War and Peace so that you might finally finish it.

As your father turned on the BBC news broadcast on the wireless that evening, the pair of you sitting side-by-side on the worn sofa, you cracked open your Atlas to follow along with the locations named on the pages within. The mention of the 101st Airborne or the ‘Battered Bastards of Bastogne’ as they were now affectionately known, made you inhale sharply. You squinted at the small village on the page, a spider’s web of roads all converging on that singular dot, truly illustrating its strategic importance.

“I really don’t understand what happened up at the House, sweet pea, and you never have to tell me. But whoever that American Lieutenant is, you really ought to let him know how much you care for him.”

You looked to your father slowly, pressing your lips together before exhaling through your nose “He’s a Captain now.” You murmured softly.

“Whatever his rank, my girl, whatever transpired, tell him.” He eyed you firmly.

“But–”

He held up his hand, silencing you. “I won’t terrify you with the things I’ve seen or endured. But I swear to you there is nothing more important when the world is so intent on tearing itself apart.”

“Oh Daddy…” You sighed tearfully and he pulled you into his shoulder as you wiped at your eyes quickly. “…what if it’s too late?”

“Oh, sweet pea.” He squeezed you tightly into his side. “It might be, but at least you’ll have tried and that’s all any of us can really do.”

You nodded weepily, quieting down as Churchill came on to give an inspiring address before you stood to clean up for the night, seeing your father to bed before turning in yourself. As you lay in your bed in the corner of the room, staring at the water-stained ceiling, you turned your father’s words over and over in your mind, not getting a whole lot of rest. On your way home from work the next day, you stopped by the local store to pick up some nice paper and a new pen. With all the writing you had undertaken last year to both Captain Nixon and your brother, your stores were running low, and a fresh start felt appropriate for the task you were about to attempt.

As you father settled in to listen to the news that night, you took a seat at the small table in the kitchen, staring at the crisp, white sheets, gnawing on your lip thoughtfully.

You signed your name before tapping your pen against the tabletop thoughtfully and quickly added a postscript before you could convince yourself not to do it.

Folding it up carefully you looked up startled to see your father leaning in the doorway with a fond smile on his face. “Well done, sweet pea.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” You sighed softly, sealing the letter into the envelope before seeing him to bed.

Posting it on your way to work the next day, you tried to put it out of your mind. You had done your best, just as your father had encouraged, and now it was in the hands of the Royal Mail. As the weeks ticked by, you undeniably deflated a little more each time you checked the mail and found no response. Your resources to check on his welfare were limited, but according to what you had access to, Captain Nixon’s name was not on any of the grim lists of wounded, dead, or missing. Which most likely meant he was not replying to you by choice. It was no less than you deserved.

It was not until the beginning of March, the soft caress of spring chasing away winter’s chill, when you came home to find an odd grin on your father’s face. He could hardly sit still in his favourite chair, watching you intently as you reached for the pile of post on the end table. You eyed him a moment until he glanced at the letters in your hand, and you looked down to the immediately recognizable cursive, heart skittering and skipping a few beats as you traced the letters of your name written in Captain Lewis’s hand for the first time. Definitely alive.

“Think I’ll go down to the pub tonight.” Your father was halfway out the door before you looked up and you sighed deeply in response.

“Thank you, Daddy. Be home for dinner in an hour, alright?”

“An hour and a half.” He winked before making his way out.

Shucking off your jacket, you hung it on its peg near the door before sinking onto the worn sofa and used a butter knife to carefully open the envelope.

Laying the pages down onto the worn tabletop you cupped your cheeks, aching from the broad grin that had taken up residence there as you read Captain Nixon’s letter. It was quite honestly more than you could have hoped for in a reply. More than you felt you were worthy of. Like a reward for bad behaviour, but one that you had spent the past month and a half trying to deny you craved to the very marrow of your bones.

It took a lot of restraint not to pull out a sheet of paper and begin a reply immediately, but the insistent growl of your stomach reminded you that neither you nor your father had eaten dinner yet. But after. After you were both fed, you were most certainly going to stay up far too late answering his question.

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

Read Part Four

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Tag list: @ronsparky, @fuckoffthanos, @bcon24, @gretagerwigsmuse

[telltale-vixen]

That Which the Eye Admires, the Heart Desires <3: Imperial Ballet AU

Thrawn x Female Human! Reader

Rating: 18+ in general, especially moving forward.

Warnings: None for this chapter, I am sure.

Plot: You are a soloist for the Grand Coruscant Ballet. What happens when you get pushed into the principal ballerina’s role suddenly and catch the eyes of a certain Grand Admiral?

****************************************************

Chapter I: The Opportunity of a Lifetime Pt. I

5 days. We have 5 days to add the finishing touches to our production. 5 days until Empire Day. This will be the biggest show of the year with the most important people in the galaxy attending. The Emperor will be here, you thought bitterly. A shiver of apprehension went down your spine at the thought.

*in rehearsal*

“Let’s make those steps more consistent, shall we? Lena, you are meant to be gliding like a fairy down the aisle, not staggering like a Noghri!” The shrill voice of Miss Hillswine, your ballet master, rang out. Lena looked like she might burst in to tears from her embarrassment.

You felt for the younger girl. Lena was trying her best with the steps, the problem was she would get caught up in her anxiety. When she looked in your direction, you exchanged an empathetic look with your fellow ballerina and her face brightened just a bit. She would get the hang of it. Luckily, she was in the ensemble, so she could sort of blend in with the other dancers a bit. That should calm her nerves a bit, you thought internally.

Rehearsal went on for another three hours, the monotony of practicing the steps started baring down on you. You just had one more solo to rehearse and then it would be break-time. The dramatic symphony of the violin began to play, shaking you out of your thoughts. Miss Hillswine is observing from the wings of the stage, her steely Bonegnawer eyes shining with scrutiny. Here it goes…Three chassées down the aisle, toes pointed, leading into a pirouette, and one arabesque later, you have concluded your solo.

Before you have a chance to right yourself from your final pose, Miss Hillswine is already within inches of you. “Y/N”. “Yes Mistress”, your calm voice responds. “That was…” For a moment the worry lines creased in her forehead and her eyes narrowed. You managed to keep a serene expression, but anxiety trickled through in your mind. What could be wrong? “Mist”- “Exquisite.” she cut you off without the crack of a smile. So she was searching for what words she wanted to use. Mistress is obviously not used to complimenting her students.

She actually looked annoyed, but she always has a stern espression. You internally sighed with relief, but your face gave way to surprise. This was the nicest you’ve ever seen her, not that she had ever been too nasty towards you. It was the ensemble dancers that experienced her wrath. “Th-thank you, Mistress” the stuttered reply barreled out. She waved her hand dismissively and gave a light scoff, “Now no need for pleasantries Y/N. I want to see that consistency every rehearsal and especially for our Empire Day debut. No excuses. You may go. All ensemble and soloists dismissed for now! We will reconvene in an hour. Do. Not. Be. Late. Miss Anya will you come here please?” Her reply turned into a screech towards the end. There it was, back to business as usual. You curtsied and turned to exit the stage when Anya passes by and gives you her signature saccharine smile “Wonderful job Y/N! Never give up hope for a better role though.” Her confidence unwavering as she walks onto the stage. You roll your eyes and keep walking, finally making it to your dressing room.

****************************************************

A/N: This is my first real go at a long-term fanfic. 😊 I am super excited to be world-building a bit. Obviously not with the Star Wars material. I don’t own that, but any o.c.s or details that I can add in, sounds fun! Right now I am in love with Thrawn, although I have not read the books. I will do that though!

Everything I gathered about him so far has been on here for the most part, so I want to do him justice. I promise he will make his entrance soon, and sorry in advance I broke the first chapter up in to two parts. 🙈 I just wanted to get it set up a bit. So this might be a bit slow. Anyway, happy reading! I hope whoever comes across it enjoys! 💖

[txemrn]

Somewhere Else

Book: The Nanny Affair, Book 3

Word Count: ~4730 (I haven't written TNA in a loooong time... I had a lot to say)

Song Inspo: "Paris" by Taylor Swift

Summary: Brynn (MC) reminisces about her whirlwind of a wedding day that was filled with jitters and professions of love.

Warning: a little language; fluff; bits of angst

AN: This is my submission for @moodmusicmonday's the Luck of the Draw! I'm not exactly a Swiftie, but this was so much fun, gleaning inspo from a song I otherwise would never have known! Thank you to whoever sent it, and to my amazing counter-part @sfb123 (who... I don't know if y'all know this, but she has been running MMM for most--if not all--of 2023): thank you for hosting this event, sister! You did a GREAT job!

A/N 2: These characters, some of the plot and even some of the dialogue belong to our friends at Pixelberry! Not truly preread or beta'd, so please excuse my errors!

~🖤~

Present

"... tonight on ET, we have the wedding exclusive of billionaire bachelor Samuel Dalton and his nanny-turned-fiancée Brynn Schuyler–"

The glow of the screen flickers to black before hosting a new picture.

"... I'm here with the groom's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Mason Dalton. Seeing your son at the altar like that, tell us –"

 The soft click of a button changes to another channel.

"...the two are pictured here before they scurried off to an undisclosed location, some believe they are still here in Mexico–"

He turns off the television before tossing the remote onto the coffee table in our suite.  He pulls his phone out of his pocket, running an anxious hand through his thick, chestnut waves. No doubt, he's staring at dozens of missed calls and unanswered texts. 

I don't know if it was the turning of the bathroom doorknob, or if he could hear my nervous, labored breathing, but he abruptly stops, dropping his phone as he fixes his hungry gaze to me. A crooked smile forms as he devours me with his dark eyes, the flecks of copper reflecting in the candlelight.

Butterflies evade my belly as I stand before him, wearing nothing but the white shirt from his tux. I fidget with the cuffs of the long sleeves as they keep falling past my hands. I can feel him watching my body, an innocent awe etching across his face.

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt." I blush, averting my eyes as the oversized cotton material slouches off of my sunkissed shoulder, exposing my bare skin.  "I don't exactly have anything else–"

"It's perfect," he croons softly. He stalks closer to me, his hands finding mine. "You really think I wanted to see you a moment longer in that dress?" He chuckles, the warmth in his tone exhilarating my senses.

We fall into a comfortable silence, our eyes locked on one another. 

We're finally here.

Him. And me. Forever.

------

Earlier that day

“...So as I look to our… to our–” I pause from my neurotic pacing, glancing down at my notes before quickly darting my eyes away once again.  I wrote my wedding vows weeks ago, and had no problem memorizing them. But something about today… something is freaking me out.

“So as I look to our future, I vow to… I vow to, um… Damnit!”  I hold up my vows again, but with my clumsy, nervous fingers, I accidentally drop the index cards. “Shit! Shit!”  I try to catch them as each one floats into various directions all over the floor, some of them finding their way underneath the furniture of my bridal dressing room suite.  With a heavy sigh, I crawl on my knees, attempting to reach the ones that fell under the coffee table. 

“Happy wedding day–!”

I jump.  The sudden chirp of my best friend's voice causes the back of my skull to meet the glass table with an abrupt thud followed by a tearful groan. "Ow!"  I fall forward, my face finding the ornate rug as my fingers shield my now-aching head.

"Brynn!" Jenny panics, seeing my body now splayed on the floor. Aditya helps me up, assisting me to a nearby chaise lounge.  Marisol fills a tea towel with ice before applying it to the back of my head with care. Jenny plops down next to me, biting her nail in worry. "What were you doing down there?"

I force a cordial smile, holding up a single note card. "Vows," I mutter, the small gesture making me wince from the surge of pain.

"Ahh! Your vows!" Jenny squeals at a higher decibel than normal. "You're finally a blushing bride!  Can you believe it?"

"I… I can't believe it." My eyes widen in shock. I'm trying to match my best friend's enthusiasm, but I'm starting to wonder if I'm missing the bride gene. You know; the one that makes you giggle like a schoolgirl  at even the dumbest jokes and cry happy, pretty tears at everything bridal.

 Me? I think I'm about to hurl.

Jenny grabs my hand, admiring my engagement ring yet again.  I blame her pregnancy hormones, and her desire to be locked down with someone.  No doubt, she'd prefer Aditya, but at this point, I think she'll take anyone.

"Mrs. Samuel J. Dalton," Jenny singsongs, letting go of my fingers. She clasps her hands dreamily with a far-off daze in her bronze eyes.

I stare back down at the heavy rock on my finger, my arm growing fatigue under its weight. The glint from the sun catches the cut diamond just right, casting blinding fractals in my eyes. I hiss from the abrupt intrusion of bright light to my vision.

Mrs. Samuel J. Dalton, I repeat to myself.  "I'm… I'm getting married," I state matter-of-factly as a catch my reflection in the floor-length mirror. "I'm… getting…" my voice becomes softer, more hoarse as I stand to look closer at myself. "I'm marrying Sam Dalton…" I can't seem to catch my breath as I watch my bridal party pop open a bottle of chilled champagne–and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. My voice grows louder, anxious. And terrified. "I'm marrying Sam Dalton… today!"

"Yes!" Jenny celebrates passing me a flute, "isn't this awesome?" She cheers with my glass before I watch the others lift their drinks in my honor. And everyone seems to freeze, staring at me to say something. 

Truth is… I have no words. Oh God, what is happening?

"It's… awesome," I choke out, hoping my bright smile will convince them. And convince me. I quickly down the entire glass.

“I’m so excited for you and Sam," Jenny continues to gloat.

"Me and Sam." I take a deep cleansing breath. Right. Eye on the prize, Brynn. Me and Sam. It's just you and Sam. It's just you… and…

“So how’re you holding up?" Marisol takes a seat on a couch, crossing her legs nonchalantly. "I remember I was an absolute wreck at my wedding. Any pre-wedding jitters?”

Jenny chuckles, waving her hand in the air as if the mention of nerves is preposterous. "Jitters? This gal has been dreaming about this day since she met the hottie."

Aditya snickers. He saunters up close to Jenny, wrapping his arms around her waist before taking a sip of his bubbly drink.

I glance around the room, everyone's attention stuck on me. Damnit, I know I'm the bride and today is about me.  But does everyone have to be staring at me like that, like I've given them a new hope in love, that love does conquer all, that Sam and I are their new favorite fairy tale? 

"Right, Brynn?" Jenny prompts when I stay silent, nodding her head.

“I… feel like I’ve never been more ready for anything." I take a deep cleansing breath before curling my lips into a bright grin.  "No jitters. No doubts.”

Jenny claps her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Then let’s get you to the altar–starting with your dress!”

The dress… my wedding dress… right…

------

Present

My cell phone rings, the chime breaking us both from the haze of the day.  I had put it on Do Not Disturb when we left the ceremony, save for a few numbers. I had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.

And I don't care.

He smirks, nodding over his shoulder. "You gonna get that?"

I step forward, sliding my hands up the firm planes of his chest until I intertwine my fingers behind his neck. I shake my head. "Nothing could be more important than being here with you, being us."

Slipping his arms around my waist, he tenderly presses his forehead to mine. He nuzzles his nose flesh to my skin, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. His mouth is a breath away from discovering my own… when my phone rings again.

He smirks, chuckling at the annoyance and slightly pulling away.

"Damnit," I mutter.

He kisses my temple. "Go ahead," he encourages, "it'll be like ripping off a band-aid." He teasingly spanks my ass.  "And then I'll kiss it and make it better."

“Promise?” I snicker, enjoying his hands on me, but reality quickly sets in. My eyes flutter close as my heart begins to pound like a drum in my chest. Just face the music… 

I walk over to grab my phone, peering at the screen.  I cinch my eyes closed again before swiping to answer the call.

"Hey–"

"Oh, thank God!" Jenny shouts through my speaker. "When you weren't answering, I just assumed the worst–"

"Jenny, I–"

"You guys just left," she nervously titters, "no goodbyes or anything. We went to your room, and–"

"Listen, I can't stay long. But everything is okay. Better, actually. And we're safe. We found another place to stay... You know? Get away from the chaos and the press." I chew on the inside of my mouth. "Can you… tell Moma that?"

"Yeah, of course, but Brynny… are you–"

"Jenny, stop. I promise, I will tell you everything when we get back from our trip. Okay?"  My best friend doesn't respond right away, and I'm not sure if my answers satisfy her genuine curiosity.

"I… I just want to make sure you're happy."

I look at the beautiful man sitting on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. And suddenly, I am overwhelmed with feelings of joy as I see our future play out in front of me. With our kids. The business. With each other. And it all finally seems so perfectly clear.

"Jen," my eyes sting with pricks of tears, "I've never been happier."

------

Earlier that day…

"Brynn! Brynn!"

Startled, I spin around to see my favorite boys bounding around the foyer. "Whoa, whoa, you guys–" They crash into my arms as I bend down to catch them. I pepper kisses into their handsome curls, breathing in their scent that always feels like home. Gosh, my boys… 

Mickey stands tall with his arms behind his back. “Miss Naya told us to give you this!” He pulls out my bouquet of fresh roses, a bountiful collection of gorgeous creams and soft pale pinks. "Tada!"

My breath hitches, taken aback by how absolutely dreamy everything has turned out. This wedding… it… it's really happening. I take the bouquet, the sweet floral notes dancing around me before I turn to look at two pairs of glittering eyes. 

"It's almost as pretty as you, Brynn," Mason pushes his glasses up his nose.

"Just like a princess," Mickey chimes in.

“You two look pretty sharp yourselves,” I wink, adjusting Mason’s bowtie before fixing a wayward curl behind Mickey’s ear. "Do you have the rings like we practiced?"

The twins nod their heads in unison, pulling out the velvet boxes. "I promise we won't drop them," Mickey flashes a worried glance.

"Baby," I cup his freckled cheek, "you're going to do just fine." I place my hand on Mason's shoulder. "Both of you."

"Do we have to call you 'Mom' after you marry Dad?" Mason innocently questions.

Mom. The word hits like a brick in the pit of my stomach. I'm going to be someone's mother… not just one person, but I'm going to be a mother of two… 

And this is no surprise to me. Afterall, Mickey and Mason are the entire reason I even met this family. I've only known the Daltons for less than a year, and yet, I have been one of the only mother figures in their young lives. When I agreed to marry Sam, it was a package deal.

God, I love them so much. They have given me so much joy, even on days I didn't think I was going to make it. Between the incessant fights and the scandals, these two precious boys have seen me and loved me for me. They were my family long before… well, long before Sam and me…

I can't imagine living a day without a joke or a prank from those two… but being their actual mother? Making sure these two boys grow into successful men? 

"Well?" Mickey prompts for an answer to his brother's question.

I pull them both into a tight hug. "You two can call me whatever you want. The most important thing you need to know is I will always be here for you two."

"And Dad," Mickey teases, grinning.

"Right, Brynn?" Mason tugs on my elbow.

"Miss Schuyler," a deep, familiar voice resonates through the waiting area, tearing me from my conversation with the boys. "You are absolutely ravishing, my dear."

"Oh, Mr. Carter, you old dog," I blush as the tall, older gentleman dressed in a neatly pressed tux approaches us. I embrace him tightly as he gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

"Well, let me take a look at you," he gleefully laughs, taking me by the hand. He twirls me in a circle, the skirt of my dress flouncing out like a dream.  Carter playfully whistles. "Enchanting," he grins, his gray eyes twinkling as his voice grows softer. "You remind me so much of my Evelyn on our wedding day." 

My eyes glisten at the mention of his wife. Unfortunately, she couldn't be with us today. Carter says that she has her 'good days and bad days,' I sense the latter outweighs the former, but still the way he speaks of his wife of forty years is precious, the envy of my dreams and future. 

I offer him a kind smile, trying to blink back the tears, but I can feel my face begin to flush. 

Suddenly, the gentle crescendo of music coming from the chapel notifies us that it's time for the ceremony to start. Carter and I give the boys one more glance, reminding them to walk slowly and to smile. Mickey and Mason hear their cue, and just like we rehearsed, they begin their trek to the altar.

And now... I'm next.

Carter begins to leave to sneak back into his seat, but I grab him by his arm.  I start to fidget with the boutonnière on his lapels. "Mr. Carter, I… I… did you maybe… I don't know–"

He takes my hands in his, calming my trembling fingers. "Miss Schuyler, take a deep breath."

I follow his directions, taking a deep gulp of air. "Jitters, right?" I exhale, fanning myself with my hand. "Perfectly normal, right?"

Carter kindly nods, guiding me slowly to the entrance. "When you step in there, find Mr. Dalton's eyes, and you stay focused on them. That's what helped on our wedding day."

"So you were nervous, too?" I glance down the aisle, noticing the twins are halfway to their spots. I quickly step back, my eyes fluttering closed. "And that helped you?"

He curls his lips endearingly. "It helped Evelyn."

"Really?" My eyes widen. "How?

He smirks as he recalls the memory. "We came from different families, you know? And because of that, she was terrified on what was supposed to be the best day of our lives. Seeking the approval of her parents, her family, even some of her friends… It was a lot of pressure on her."

"Gosh, that must've been hard."

"It was," he nods, "but, she said that on that day, she found my eyes… and they said everything that she needed to know."

My heart swoons at the thought. "She saw the love in your eyes?"

Carter coyly shakes his head.  He must see my confusion because he gives a deep, hearty laugh. "You are a treasure, Miss Schuyler, just like my Evelyn. A man that loves you will look at you as such, not with greed over what he's getting… but with fear because he sees how much he has to lose; he realizes he would be wrecked, completely devastated without you."

An overwhelming sense of calm washes over me. 

Find his eyes…

You are a treasure…

He sees how much he has to lose…

I squeeze Carter's hands, pulling him into one last embrace. "Thank you so much," my voice hitches. 

He nods affectionately. "You feel ready?" He helps me adjust my veil.

"Almost." I bite my lip, stifling a mischievous grin. "Mr. Carter, do you mind… walking me down the aisle?"

The most handsome smile sweeps across his face as he buttons the jacket of his tux. With his eyes glittering down at me, he offers me his arm. "It would be my honor."

------

Present

"Is everyone freaking out?" He chuckles, extending his arm for me to take his hand. 

I end the call, tossing my phone across the room.  "I… don't care," I snicker. "Probably." Slipping my fingers into his palm, he pulls me to his side, my body crashing into him.  We both tumble back onto the bed, our grunts turning into boisterous laughter, filling our room.

As our bellies begin to ache and we quiet down, I roll off of him, laying down next to him.  We stare at the ceiling, falling into a comfortable silence… that is until I notice him pointing at the textured surface above us.

"What are you doing?"

He chuckles. "When I was little, I used to dream of traveling the world. I tried using my grandpa's old world atlas to map out the perfect trip, and…" He titters, shaking his head with embarrassment, "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"No," I roll onto my side, resting my hand on his chest. "I love it–I love this." I kiss his shoulder. "Keep going."

He rests his hand on mine, softly drawing circles with his thumb. "We had old popcorn ceilings," he chuckles, "kinda like this textured stuff, and so… I'd imagine it was my own world map. And at night, I would plan my–" he deepens his voice like the narrator of a movie trailer, "--international escape."

"Ooooo, show me, James Bond."

I start to giggle as he takes my hand in the air with his, his fingers curling around mine to extend my pointer finger. "Well, over here is us right now in Puerto Vallarta… and…" he moves our hands together, "up here is New York." He starts to blush, shrugging his shoulders.

"How about–" I guide our fingers to another spot, "--London?"

He chuckles. "I'll pack my knickers," he jokes in a British accent.

"And then Paris," I move our hands again.

"Oui oui, mon chéri," he jokes in his poor attempt to sound French, making me bust out into more titters. He guides us once more. "How about Venice?" He points to another area on the ceiling, his voice growing softer. "Or Athens? Or Bali? Hong Kong?"

I brush my nose against his stubbled cheek, whispering in his ear. "And then where?"

He turns towards me, the warmth of his chocolate gaze fluttering to my hungry lips as he places my hand back on his chest. "To the moon and stars?" The air around us begins to crackle, the electricity igniting our nerves as I feel my heart begin to race. I bite my lip, feeling a rosy swirl dance across my cheeks. "Anywhere. Somewhere else. With you."

I can feel his heartbeat thrum hard against my fingertips, the excitement feeding my desire for him.

I love him.

His large hand intimately caresses mine… but then he stops, looking down at my fingers. Feeling the abrupt disconnect, I follow his gaze and quickly notice he's fidgeting with something. 

My ring.

------

Earlier that day…

I thought I knew what I wanted for my wedding day, but in this very moment as Pachelbel's Canon in D romantically announces my arrival, I am overcome with so much emotion as I look around the room. This is everything I ever wanted: to be surrounded by love. My breath shutters as I try to blink away my tears. This… this is absolutely perfect. 

Carter pats my hand gripping tightly to his arm as he walks me graciously down the aisle.  "There he is," he whispers to me, "look at him."

Sam. He's as handsome as ever in his gray suit and petal pink tie. His eyes twinkle, roaming my body as I draw closer to the altar. He offers me that charming Dalton smile, and everything seems to fade away.

It's just you and me, baby… Finally… after everything you put me through– I mean--that we've gone through…

I can do this... I can do this... I can–

Without warning, Sam gradually turns towards his groomsmen. One of his old fraternity brother's has made some kind of comment, causing some of them to crack up. During my procession.

Sam seems to be responding to the joke or comment. He subtly leans over, but after a few seconds, some of the men snicker, covering their faces and Sam chuckles into his fist, feigning a coughing fit.

It's fine, I tell myself.

Getting himself under control, Sam looks back to me with a mischievous glint in his eye before winking at me.

It was just a joke– an inside joke perhaps. Probably to help with his own nerves. It--it's fine. Everything is fine.

Just… stay with me, Sam. Please stay. I need to see your–

The twins lean up against their dad as he rests his hands on their shoulders. Together, they all watch me with doting glances… that is until one of the velvet boxes accidentally falls out of Mickey’s pocket.  In a panic, he bends over to grab the small package, carelessly backing into his brother Mason, knocking off his glasses.

Giving me a crooked smile and shrugging his shoulders, Sam takes a knee to help the boys out, causing endearing chuckles from the audience.

Those two rascals…

I begin to admire my little mess of a family-to-be… until the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My pulse, without explanation, begins to race as a bead of sweat courses down the slope of my back.

Something doesn't feel right.

I can't help, but feel… as crazy as it sounds, like there's another pair of eyes on me. Of course, I realize I have over two-hundred guests watching me as I finish my march down the aisle, but this? This isn't the same. This stare… it's different. It's piercing, and intimate. And I feel… seen. Exposed. Preyed.

Looking behind Sam's crouched physique, a pair of deep, chestnut eyes feast on my every move. But rather than being filled with adoration or even his typical lust, there's a hint of sadness in them, as if they're watching a funeral procession rather than a wedding.

And for the first time today, my heart flutters as a fire kindles in my belly.

I make it to the altar, Carter placing my petite hand in my groom's grasp. I can feel the desire in Sam's eyes wandering across my body.  He gives my fingers a squeeze, giving me another adoring wink… but I can't stop looking at him.

Focus, Brynn. Just focus…

Naya gives us a cordial smile before taking the microphone to begin. "Dearly beloved friends and family, we've gathered here today…"

It's no use. I can feel the bile rise in the back of my throat as the room begins to spin. Is it getting hot in here? Or are there just too many people?

As Naya continues, I look back to those haunting eyes, that look of betrayal, that look of devastation… and Carter's words begin to replay in my mind. 'A man that loves you will look at you… with fear because he sees how much he has to lose; he realizes he would be wrecked… without you."

Oh my God… I never noticed this before but… he loves me.

"... speak now," Naya bellows, "or... forever hold your–"

"Wait!" Fuck! What did I just do? The entire congregation starts to quietly murmur amongst one another. Sam clears his throat, his eyebrows furrowing as he adjusts his collar. "I–I'm sorry to interrupt, but… I just… I have a question, and I…" I sigh. "I can't do this–I can't get married unless… I need the answer."

A hush falls over the room, concerned looks are glued on me.

I should just shut up, and go along with this. Isn't that what I've been doing for the past several months anyway with the promise of a happily ever after? Does fairy tale magically happen after we say, 'I do?'

No. In my heart, I know this is the right thing to do. For me.

"Robin?" More whispers erupt behind me as Sam turns back to look at his best man, a pained confusion etching on his handsome features.  "Several weeks ago, we pretended to be the wait staff in a restaurant… to, uh… witness a date." Sam raises an eyebrow, looking between Robin and me. "I asked you a question at the beginning of the night. Do you… do you remember my question?"  

Robin coyly pushes his fists into his slacks, nodding his head. He exhales heavily, his nose rosy pink with unshed emotion.

My vision blurs as hot streams pour down my cheeks, but my attention doesn't leave Robin. "You… you answered, 'Sure. Sometimes…'"  A lump forms in my throat, my timbre growing hoarse. "Tell me, Robin… if I asked you that same question right now, what–what would your answer be?" I choke out a sob, wiping my face with the back of my hands.

He just stares at me. Lost. Dumbfounded. Embarrassed.

I know this wasn't exactly the most opportune time to talk about this, but I also knew this would be our last time to talk about it. Damnit, maybe I was wrong. Carter was wrong. My jitters and my awful gut feeling… wrong.

I look at Sam, his jaw ticking in anger. And he has every right to be. I've made a fool of him, of us. 

But I could've sworn I saw something…

"Sorry, everyone," Sam kindly addresses the audience, "we have a case of the wedding day jitters." He fakes a bright smile, the crowd tittering and cooing. At me. Like I'm a joke. Again. Sam takes my hand, but he refuses to even look at me now. 

Will he ever take me seriously? I... I don't want to get married like this.

Sam clears his throat, nodding to Naya to continue. "Let's try this again," she chuckles, "we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of–"

"I lied," Robin blurts out, inviting the chaos to continue amongst the guests.  He steps forward, pushing himself in front of Sam. "Brynn, you asked me if I ever thought about us–" Gasps and whispers crescendo in the room as Robin takes my hands into his. "And I told you… what I thought you wanted to hear. I mean, for Christ's sake, you swore you were in love with..." The corner of his mouth curls, his eyes bearing it all before me. "I knew better," he mumbles, falling into nervous titters, squeezing tightly to my fingers. "The truth is… Brynn Schuyler... Hell, of course, I think about us. All of the time. I dream of you as my bride. As my wife. As the mother to my children… I've never stopped thinking about us since the moment I first met you–" 

Screams erupt as family members and friends jump to their feet. Naya attempts to holler through her microphone to restore order, but it's too late. Our guests that have come to attend a beautiful, romantic wedding have turned into an ugly, angry mob.

I get lost in the shuffle, unable to recognize anyone around me. My name is being screamed in several directions by several different voices, but it's no use. Terrified, I glance around, looking for a way to safety as everything crumbles around me.

Suddenly, a large hand grabs mine, pulling me through the vocal crowd. As we finally make it to the back of the sanctuary, his lips graze my ear. "Do you trust me?"

A rush of exhilaration floods my veins as my natural smile returns. Are you kidding me? With all my heart.

I nod.

"Don't look back, baby," he chuckles, tucking my arm under his. "Run!"

------

Present

"Do you mind, Miss Schuyler?" He smirks, grabbing my engagement ring on my hand.

I roll my lips, trying to hide my smile as I tilt my head side-to-side. "Not at all, Mr. Flores. Please."

Robin slips the jewelry off of my finger before pressing his lips to my now bare knuckle. It was so simple, yet the gesture so intimate; I was finally free. 

This man…

Pulling me into his arms, he tosses the ring over his shoulder, an abrupt clink hitting the wall. With his handsome crooked smile, he leans towards me. "Don't worry," he chuckles, "I made him buy the insurance."

"Robin!" I squeal before our mouths meet in a tender kiss.

"What?" He pulls back, cupping my cheek. "I had a feeling."

"A feeling?" I snicker, raising an eyebrow. "That it wasn't going to work out?"

"Ehh, more .." He brushes his thumb across my lips, a serious expression growing across his face. "That you were the one. For me."

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

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[atopvisenyashill]

[just black list the tag #rani liveblogs got if u don’t want to see me bitch]

changes from book to show i noticed

what do you think it says thematically that they change the execution ned is carrying out from gared to will. do you think it was just cheaper to hire one guy to be both the “point of view” for our intro to the others and to also be the person executed.

i KNOW what it says thematically that they end this open with a scary shocking gared gets beheaded by the white walker scene and completely cut waymar royce’s “dance with me then” last stand and it’s nothing very good.

i don’t know that i like that they gave the “what about you” “i’m not a stark” exchange to bran and jon instead of ned and jon. i feel like it hits more when it’s jon denying his own starkness to ned’s face and bran sitting there realizing what a big thing jon has done here. but maybe i’m being picky here.

i do love this jaime & cersei scene. establishes the incest early, that they aren’t the ones who killed jon arryn, and also nikolaj’s danish accent comes through sooooo bad but i like it let him do it and give no explanation it’s sexy.

the tyrion change sure is. very typical of d&d.

i understand why it’s easier to just have jon snow outside and if they had a stronger jon snow i think i’d find this change less annoying but jon snow getting drunk at the party and crying is like 80% of the reason i love him so much. whomst among us.

these people are cowards prudes and fake perverts for changing this to fully clothed cuddling from those horn dogs .25 seconds after they came. i don’t give a shit about those three dehydrated twenty year olds in the shaving scene, also jon snow is my son i do Not want to fuck him stop trying to make me want to fuck him and give me sweaty and naked sean bean and michelle fairley having political pillow talk dammit.

making that change from catelyn wanting ned to go and ned not wanting to into catelyn fighting with luwin for ned to stay and ned not saying anything. perfect combo of “man is always right” + “completely erasing cat’s canon personality” + “misunderstanding ned’s core trait of grief due to long term depression & ptsd as ned is an honorable fool” nonsense. also let sean bean be naked?? michelle is not even like old???

i do understand why george was annoyed at the wedding night change, he’s writing something much more subtle than this, buti do think that’s a sign that they are not writing as subtle as him in regard to like. literally everything but especially dany and especially her relationships.

general comments and bitching

the archery scene is so fucking good tho. the way bran just LAUNCHES himself over that barrel to go slap arya silly but he can’t catch her she’s gone she’s in the wind and jon rickon and robb are hooting and hollering. really great.

do you know how many people i know who thought that jon snow and catelyn were fuckin bc of the glare they added there. akskdkd.

i wish they’d differentiated between jeyne poole and beth cassel in this scene with some dialogue and arya hears the training outside eventually drown out their voices instead of complete silence. those girls were not just like, the Main socialization that arya & sansa get, they’re both important to the northern plot with jeyne poole being like foundational to both of their stories. but obviously we know where that one goes.

i always think of that “when he looks at MEEEEEE and i look at HIIIIIIM” post during the direwolf puppy scene

“but he’s coming right now! down our road!”

i really like that arya is so mean to bran because he’s In Her Spot bc she’s next oldest so SHE goes next and HE goes next to the baby.

the way mark addy does that out of breath huffy “CAAAAAAAAAAAT” and hugs her is so funny to me i love every acting decision that man ever made.

honestly they really set emilia up by having most of her scenes be with harry lloyd when she can barely match kit harington and the daarios.

kit harington is always so much worse in this season than i ever remember. but that’s okay because lena headey, mark addy, and sean bean are also sooooo much better than i remember every single time.

the feast scene is also very good. the lil deranged moment between cersei catelyn and sansa. cat’s single nod to robb and him putting on the big brother and perfect heir face immediately. jaime so clearly wanting to fuck ned and ned cannot be more turned off by how desperate jaime is. amazing.

i remember reading an article about how this white opinion writer was like was that dothraki wedding racist. can you be racist against fictional people. you definitely can right?? anyways viserys looking really worried that murder is gonna fuck up his deal before laughing is so funny.

also the suddenness of “the things i do for love” is real good. i always gasp with bran when it happens, the way they time it is really good.

god i hope i don’t spend this much time bitching for every single episode. akskdjd. this is one of the good seasons.

[slccpiehead]

guys did anyone already made a post/analysis about the movie "You've Got Mail"? It's one of the films the writers listed in their Video Store Fridays Thread on twitter.

I've seen this film before but it was a long time ago lol so i had to google the plot because I forgot what it was all about.

Bare with my grammar, English is not my first language. I'll try to explain this as clearly as possible 😊

So the story was about Kathleen (who runs an independent bookstore) and Joe (who belongs in a family that runs the mega bookstore just around the corner.)

I'm not gonna drag the introductions. Basically they know each other and they hate each other because of their businesses blah blah blah.

Now, both of them always log in to their emails and talk using their fake usernames. So yeah this means Kathleen didn't know that she was talking to Joe and vice versa. They decided to enter into an online relationship.

note: Kathleen was currently in a relationship with someone else when she agreed to be in an online relationship with Joe.

So yeah life goes on, they tell each other everything through email.

Then one day they decided to meet. Joe found out that he was actually talking to Kathleen. He met with her but didn't tell her that he was the man that she was exchanging emails with.

Fast forward, Kathleen lost her bookstore and she and her boyfriend broke up. Kathleen took a break to figure out what she wants to do (write children's books). Joe realizes he has feelings for Kathleen and decides to build a friendship with her still not telling her that he was the man she was talking to through email.

Eventually, the anonymous man (Joe) arranged a meeting with Kathleen. That day, Joe met with Kathleen and confessed his feelings for her hoping she would choose him over anonymous man. Kathleen hinted that she also has feelings for Joe but she cannot bring herself to skip her feelings for anonymous man, not realizing that they are the same person.

(ARE YOU GUYS CATCHING UP?? DO YOU GET WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY HERE?)

so the ending was Kathleen found out it was Joe all along. She said to him..

"I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly."

the movie ends with them kissing while "somewhere over the rainbow" was playing in the background.

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

Alright let me explain to the best of my ability what I'm trying to point out here.

It's Joe's confession. and Kathleen's feelings for him and the anonymous man.

Unlike Will, Joe didn't use his fake internet name to confess to Kathleen. He confessed as Joe because he was hoping Kathleen would choose him. a real person over some guy she was talking to in her emails.

Will on the other hand gave the painting and confessed his feelings using El's name. Because that was (what he thought) Mike wanted to hear. Unlike Joe, Will wasn't hopeful. He already knew Mike was in love with El.

Kathleen turned down Joe even though she knew she already had feelings for him. She chose to meet this man that she's been talking to for days. yeah they never met in person, but this person made her feel so many things and she wanted to meet him. but deep inside her heart she wanted this person to be Joe as well.

Now what if the st writers did the same thing for Mike? the painting that Will said was commissioned by El and the monologue. What if Mike was really hoping all of it came from Will alone.

what if in season 5 we get Mike's version of "I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly." line

[jellydishes]

that last post put me in mind of Varric reading his latest stories aloud to the companions. at first it's because Isabela insists upon it, so despite his protests and a strange reluctance ("Come on now!" Isabela goads him, pushing a bare foot against his stomach where they are casually reclined at opposite ends of his bed, "You know I can't do the voices for shit, and it always sounds so much better with chocolate you can hear oozing between every word." Varric huffs and sighs, "You're ridiculous," but he gives in, as he always will for her or any of his friends) he will and he does.

Isabela can't help but flutter and sigh and touch the book or him as he reads, unable to resist grounding herself as he goes through the highs and lows of the story. "What a rotten ending," she sniffs. "I can't believe everyone left in the end, bastards... Read it again!"

Merrill scoots up close beside him with her eyes shining, although he can tell she's biting the inside of her cheek so as not to correct him about details here and there. He graciously grants her permission to do so, and the story is much improved for it, he thinks (although both of them miss calling a ship a boat, which Isabela will cheerfully pester him about for days).

When he reads for Fenris, the elf paces as he listens, head tilted this way and that like a bird or a curious cat, or just an elf that asks questions about the dialogue or plot points, or sometimes speaks up just to compliment a particular turn of phrase. When he is finished, Fenris slowly nods, then asks to borrow the manuscript in order to try reading it out for himself, now that he has heard it once. Fenris gets through it remarkably well, and Varric keeps this tactic in mind to suggest to Hawke.

Anders stares up at the ceiling now and again as he listens to Varric spin out the newest changes, before he asks to borrow writing supplies in order to leave notes. The notes aren't necessarily on things to improve, so much as detailed comments about the characters and events and even themes of the story, and Varric can't bring himself to say that he's touched. He suspects Anders knows already.

Aveline has surprisingly little patience for the story's twists and turns. Her favorite parts are the confrontations and the snappy dialogue, although he knows she would never admit it, at least not at first. "What a weak excuse," she grumbles at him or the story or both. "They've got something up their sleeve, you watch." Varric only smiles, and suggests she listen further, which earns him a snort before she steeples her fingers and scowls at his table in thought.

When he reads for Carver and the sister he never got to meet, it is to an empty room, well lit but his voice feels so much smaller than he is used to. There are no compliments or bickering or suggestions floating through the air to him, and he places a hand on the tabletop with a frown before blowing out the candle to go to bed.

When he wakes up in the morning, he has a new idea lingering on his mind from his dreams, and he credits it to the twins. He starts to read aloud to his empty room like this on a regular basis, and it continues to help him catch odd phrasings or things that he wouldn't catch about developments that stick in his teeth when read aloud. When he publishes the book, he credits C + B for "their invaluable help in shaping this story and this world for the better"

[whenimgoodandready]

*Goosebumps (2023) Season 2 Theories

I read that the producers were really interested in expanding the new Goosebumps series’s by adding in the other books, most definitely Night of the Living Dummy ones, and that’s awesome! I mean, think about it, Kanduu said he can unleash more monsters, weeeeeeell what if he meant the monsters from the other books! 🤩It’s the perfect seasonal plot for Season 2! He could unleash all the other monsters and we’d get them all for Season 2! Picture this:

Calling All Creeps!-This can be about Kanduu summoning all the monsters to awaken and them slowly coming alive.

The Girl Who Cried Monster-I wanted Margot to be the one to tell the others about the monsters coming back, but then I thought, maybe Allison should! We barely knew anything about her other than being Isaiah’s jealous girlfriend, so maybe this’ll give her some characterization and become a member of the group finally when she sees there’s more to life than just the social status of high school.

Monster Blood-One fan suggested this when they said that the dupes blood can be the monster blood, but what if it’s the blood of the monster the teens defeat and when they think they won, the blood slowly moves to its next host to possess!?

The Beast from the East-Those creatures (not all the monsters are caused by the monster blood mind you, some are original monsters from the temple that were unleashed) can play that overly complicated game of tag with the teens. Also, for those who read the books, if one of the “dupes” survived, the beasts will let them go as they’re “Level 3” players😉

The Werewolf of Fever Swamp-The monster blood gets on a lone wolf dwelling in a swamp and infects it turning them into a werewolf.

The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight-The monster blood gets ahold of a simple scarecrow that attacks people at midnight.

The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb-The monster blood gets onto to a mummy at an Egyptian exhibit in a museum that awakens it from its sleep.

Phantom of the Auditorium-The monster blood infecting an actor in the schools/town theatre’s play of “The Phantom of the Opera” and kidnapping people to be the only star.

Attack of the Mutant-The monster blood infecting a cosplayer at a comic con into the character from the graphic novel, but they’re evil and delusional to think everyone at the convention is the real deal.

The Abominable Snowman of Pasadena-The monster blood infecting a yeti statue outside of an ice cream parlor in Pasadena the teens were at for a traveling thing.

Vampire Breath-Not an actual vampire in the show per se, but what if a student accidentally created this kind of potion and it’s fumes turned people into blood sucking monsters!?

The Blob That Ate Everyone-The monster blood forming together to create a giant blob that consumes everything.

How to Kill a Monster-After finding out how all these monsters keep showing up, Margot will try to figure out a way to stop it from the spell book she now has. She’ll also use it throughout the season as a guide to look up the monsters and find other spells to repel them.

——————————————-

For the Night of the Living Dummy, these will go deeper into the Kanduu storyline when he now possess Mr.Bratt.

Night of the Living Dummy lll-This’ll pick up right where we left off with Mr.Bratt discovering Kanduu isn’t dead and getting possessed again. Poor guy can’t catch a break!

Slappy's Nightmare-This’ll deal with Kanduu before the war and how his life was growing up in the 19th century and he probably didn’t have a good life judging by that era (dirt poor? abusive parents, no friends, etc.) which got worse by the war.

Bride of the Living Dummy-This one I’m excited about cuz what if Kanduu had a love interest that they forgot about due to obtaining all that power, but then something triggered that memory. Maybe he sees all these happy couples (ex.Margot and Isaiah) and remembers his sweetheart, Mary Ellen! Maybe he’ll try to bring her back by using a doll he bought from a garage sale and going to her grave to say a spell to bring her back!? Or a teacher from the school falls for Mr.Bratt and Kanduu (still possessing him) will use her as the vessel to bring Mary Ellen back!

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-A-Long, Kingdom of Ash, Day 10

So - it’s come, today’s the day, in reality, the read-a-long is finished!

(But I’m still just barely starting part two - Gods and Gates)

I have no intention to stop now

It’s a delayed read-a-long, but I’ll keep reading

Ch 68

Dorian bird - to Dorian mouse! He’s really getting the hang of this shapeshifting thing

HE BURIED THE WYRDKEYS IN SHALE ROCK Dorian, baby, I love you, but what the fuck. If you weren’t gonna bring them with you, why didn’t you just leave them with Manon and the others?!?

(What if you die - literally - what are you going to do if you die)

(I swear to god if you die I’m going to throw this book at the wall)

Oh no. Maeve is here.

Ch 69

I still think Darrow is a piece of shit, and it’s kind of amazing that he has so little respect for Aelin after all that she’s managed to accomplish. I think Lysandra didn’t do her any favors pulling the shapeshifter decoy game, but she has a point. The army, the whole armada, and all of these warriors, are here to serve Aelin, not some dusty old man from a random court in her kingdom. He better learn soon to start affording her some respect. What more can she possibly do to prove herself?

Ch 70

Oh god damn it. I love how Maeve and Erawan knew Dorian was hiding there the whole time and STILL decided to have their casual conversation and catch him up on the plot. Now he knows Aelin is safe and that Chaol is probably safe - and all about Maeve and her valg heritage.

But also, uh oh, he was found

(Shit)

(Okay)

(You better learn fire power real quick)

(Unleash flames and fuck this Valg queen up)

Ch 71

Um? Uhhh.

Of the two evils, I would definitely describe Maeve as the lesser, since she spent centuries just playing Fae Queen, compared to Erawan who actually wants to take over the world - it’s possible that she could be bargained with and allowed to stay in this realm. They both do want the same things - in a way - to shut the doors and bar all other valg from ever entering. I find it very interesting that Dorian is willing to ally with her. But I do think offering her an alliance through marriage is a bit much, Lmao. If anything I’d let her help with the key quest, wield them to seal off the Valg realm and send Erawan back, and then tell her to fuck off back to her own continent, never to darken their doorway again.

Dorian’s really interesting right now. He’s right here in the thick of it. I don’t want the scene to change to another character but I get the feeling it’s going to real quick here.

Ch 72

Yep, lol

Aw, but that scene between Gavriel and Chaol was so sweet. Maybe you can let him father your kid; too. Or he can be like, sort of a grandfather. Since your kid probably won’t get to know their own grandfather.

Did the Ironteeth witches leave because Manon summoned every witch to her legion? Or are they still here to make life worse for everyone?

I mean - they’re not HERE - so, hopefully they’re doing the cool thing and joining forces with Manon.

But the air is stagnant, and maybe something horrible is about to happen.

Ch 73

MAEVE. I want to believe that you are our friend, that you just came from a spooky, shitty planet and you truly do like this world and want to stay here. I want to believe that after Erawan is destroyed, you’ll behave yourself, and won’t try to bring about the end of life as we know it. But I don’t trust you? You kind of tortured the main character - viscously - and you psychologically tortured Rowan by making him believe that his first mate died pregnant with their child. Like, listen, I think people can come back from the dark side, but you’re pretty deep in it, Maeve. You have got a LOT to atone for, and if you think befriending Dorian is gonna make up for everything then you’re fucking wrong.

Ch 74

Gross

Super uncomfy.

Good thing Erawan didn’t want it

I hated watching her shapeshift into Aelin. how dare you use her likeness - after what you did to her! You disgust me, Maeve

Ch 75

(You guys got this)

(Don’t give up)

100,000 is a lot but you guys got this

Ch 76

“Not all Valg are evil.”

This is so bizarre. Is this really the same book where Maeve was torturing Aelin? Are we really gonna brush that off? In theory - I love this idea - a villain redemption - sure - I’m stupid and I love that trope - but what the actual heck?

In the same book?

In the same book with Aelin over here suffering lingering trauma and wishing for it all to be over? Wishing herself dead?

I’m not saying I don’t believe in the ability for a person to change

It’s just!

Maeve?

It is so sudden? And it is so jarring?

Ch 77

Shit

So do we trust her, or is she just as bad as we remember?

(Ugh I’m so tangled up inside)

(I felt like she was trying to open up, trying to be his friend)

(If she cares about spiders she can care for the other creatures of this earth)

(Maeve - we don’t use dark mind control magic on our friends)

(So if you’re really friends….)

(Stop)

(Let him go)

Ch 78

Wow

Ok

Hell yeah

Not bad, Dorian. Holy shit. You actually did it. You actually got away. With your life, and all three keys.

And you didn’t kill Maeve, even though she tried to double cross you

Wow

Hell yeah