#and i think its beautiful. this was not supposed to be like 600 words long lol

[kastheory]

steve did not bully eddie in "the past" steve was a grade below him for 3 out of 4 years of his high school career freshman steve heard this weird loudass sophomore talking w his friends at 100 decibels in the hallway about fighting elves in the woods or something (steve did not know what larping was nor care to find out) and then he went to class bc are you insane hes not fucking w a sophomore you dont normally fuck w people ahead of your grade especially if they yell at people and wear chains and get into fights in the woods (with elves?) and you dont even have classes w them. you dont even care much about them in the first place beyond passing gossip like HAVE YOU GUYS EVER BEEN IN HIGH SCHOOL. sorry. anyway.

then steve keeps catching this guy in his periphery over the next two years shouting about board games and controversial food opinions and metal bands that steve likes a few songs from but could not ever imagine giving that much of a shit about. like at all. and by (steve's) year 3 the motherfucker is bouncing off the walls giving speeches about what the hell ever and saying he cant fucking WAIT to get out of this FUCKED UP PLACE!!!! YEP ITS TRUE IN LESS THAN ONE MEASLY YEAR ILL BE SAYING MY SWEET SWEET GOODBYES TO THIS BRAINLESS CONFORMIST PRISON!!!! and hardly anyone reacts beyond rolling their eyes or snickering to their friends about it and this includes steve because who cares literally who cares. this guys been causing a ruckus since the beginning of time and hes weird and unpredictable and not worth trying to shove in a locker he would probably evade the attack anyway like a nimble mouse or squirrel he might even try to bite you. and steve didnt shove anybody in lockers in the first place so who cares and yeah he has pretty eyes and a funny way of talking and moving around but WHO CARES

and then steve goes through the first round of nightmarish shit that would become a yearly ordeal and then wraps up junior year in a perfectly normal not haunted whatsoever fashion. and then hes a senior and in his subtly cringefail era (ongoing) and that freak guy is STILL HERE for some reason and kinda pissed off and possibly a bit devastated about it so okay great now steve has a few classes with this angry weirdo loudguy but. crucially. he has had a lot of OTHER SHIT to deal with lately (MONSTERS ARE REAL) (GIRL DIED IN HIS POOL) (GF RESENTS HIM) (HAS NO FRIENDS) (COLLEGE APPS) so the only effect eddie's constantly loudmouthed & often unwarranted input during class ever has is that it adds a little flavor to the constant metaphorical and literal headache of steves life.

and then he goes through round 2 of shit and finishes his senior year with little hope for a satisfying future ahead of him and never once thinks about that guy again except when his fellow grads whisper about oh my godd did you hear that the freak flunked out again hahaha and yep sure enough eddie's not there at the graduation ceremony. and he thinks huh i wonder what his fucking problem is and then he MOVES ON. the end. thats the extent of """their past""" at least in terms of any actual interactions btwn the two of them i promise okay listen to me. i was there

[turtletaubwrites]

A Good Catch ~ Part 3

This was part of my 600 Follower Celebration and I can't thank you enough for all the support. I was glad y'all voted for Shanks... until I wrote this!! It was supposed to be the end. But I wanted them to have more sex. And that led to more fluff, and that led to... Anyways, I know what the end will be, but I'm not going to embarrass myself again by saying it'll be the next chapter. 😅 I have been consumed by this story, and I really hope you enjoy it!!

Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4613

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 (End)

Ao3 Link

Summary: Your unplanned vacation is filled with more than just the pleasure of a certain pirate's touch. Turns out that pirates and fishermen share a love of stories.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, Alcohol, Hair Pulling, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (Be safe out there), Birth Control, Pet Names, Rough Oral Sex, Face-Sitting, Outdoor Sex, (Very Mild Exhibitionism), Porn with Feelings, Aftercare

A/N: I need help

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

“Thanks for takin’ pity on our captain.”

“None of that, Lucky Roux,” Shanks scolded, grabbing the bowl of food the man had set down on that dingy table by the fire. 

Sunset was on its way, and your stomachs had dragged you reluctantly out of his bed, only to be greeted at the camp by the loudest, and rowdiest cheers you’d ever heard. 

Shanks had gotten them to tone it down a bit, kissing your burning cheeks as you sat at his table, but it seemed that Lucky Roux had started it up again.

“He’s right,” Benn agreed, raising his mug to you. “I don’t think we would have survived another night of that.” 

“Isn’t Y/N just beautiful? Isn’t she–,” another pirate called in a sing-song voice as he mimicked his captain, and your mouth fell open as the whole crew joined in. Shanks started blustering, trying to rein it in, but it was too late. 

“Did you hear how funny she is?”

“And she's soo fiery, did you see her?”

“I was drunk! I was out of my wits,” Shanks yelled over the din while you sat back and laughed. 

“I will personally murder each and every one of you!”

He gave up, taking a long drink from his mug while you studied his profile. When he finally looked at you, you couldn’t fight the evil grin on your face.

“Fiery, huh?”

“Alcohol does a lot of things to the mind, and–”

“Are you blushing, captain?”

Your red haired pirate didn’t allow you to lean close to find out before he pulled you to him, kissing you hard. You felt his low hum of approval at the tiny noises you made for him, but it was all drowned out by another round of applause.

“I'm gonna need more booze for this,” he grumbled, waving his now empty mug in the air until a pirate came to fill it.

“Fiery,” you asked again, whispering in his ear before chuckling as he choked on his drink. 

“Yeah, well,” he wiped his chin, turning to smirk at you, “I’m pretty sure you like me too, damsel.”

He looked way too pleased with himself as you bit your lip, digging into your food to keep from squirming.

You thought he might steal you away back to his quarters as soon as your bowls were cleared. Instead, he pulled you onto his lap as you spent time with his crew. So many smiling faces, so many stories, so many songs. It seemed like the whole crew took turns joining your table, and tapping their mugs against yours as they introduced themselves. 

Now that you didn’t think they were going to attack you in your sleep, you’d decided to drink whatever it was they put in your mug. 

But after toasting with so many pirates in a row, you were starting to feel it. 

“Mm, Shanks…”

"Mhm," he purred back at you as you nuzzled against his ear. 

“I think I’m drunk.”

“Well,” he started, leaving a warm kiss on your forehead, “what does my drunken damsel nee–”

He leaned forward with a wicked chuckle that told you he’d be getting back at you for what you’d just done. You had grinded your ass into his lap, and he was already growing hard again. That sensation had your head lolling back until he sat you up straight on his knee, his arm around your shoulders.

“So you’re demanding and greedy, huh?”

There was no point in arguing as his eyes poured over you, hungrily taking in your ragged breathing, your bitten lip, and the needy look in your eyes. 

You watched as he wet his lips, his eyes growing darker even as the light of the fire shined within them.

Nodding as he mouthed the question ‘ready for bed,’ you held onto him, only a bit wobbly as you made your way through the crowd. The shouts of the crew were hardly noticeable with his hand in yours, his thumb smoothing over your skin. 

The moon was even closer to being full tonight, and its light dancing on the ocean made you pause after you stepped on deck. 

“I haven’t stopped to look for awhile,” you confessed as he brushed your hair out of your face.

“Look at what?”

A surprised laugh bubbled from you as you gestured to the moonlit waves.

“Anything!”

A wave of energy and pleasure rolled over you, and you threw your head back to let out a joyful yell.

“It’s beautiful,” you screamed at the moon. “And look at the waves, they’re so…”

Your joy in this moment felt so freeing, but it broke your heart to realize just how stifled you’d been. To not remember the last time you relaxed, the last time you looked at something just because it felt good. 

Shanks caught your hand as the heat of tears rose in your throat. His hair seemed to glow under the silver light, and you didn’t think you’d ever met someone as beautiful as him.

“You’re beautiful too, Y/N,” he rasped, pressing your knuckles to his lips. 

“Don’t you mean, ‘fiery,” you laughed in his face, stomach starting to hurt as giggles took over. 

He sucked his teeth, narrowing his eyes at you as he dropped your hand. 

“You won’t be so fiery after this.”

Shanks twisted his fist into the back of the shirt you’d borrowed, and dragged you, kicking and screaming, to the edge of the ship. Toward those beautiful waves.

Happy, drunken fingers tore at the buttons of the loose shirt until you pulled yourself free, cackling as you held your hands to your bare breasts, and ran inside.

“Y/N,” Shanks shouted, as the pirate on night duty started rolling with laughter. 

You had never had this much fun in your life.

Those wood paneled halls all looked the same, so instead of looking for his quarters, you just kept running.

The chase didn’t last long before he shoved you against a wall, his knee spreading your legs as your chest heaved. He dropped the shirt to the ground to push your hand aside, massaging your exposed breast as he kissed you. 

It was more than kissing. Drinking, eating, taking. 

His thumb brushed over your nipple, already hardened from your flight through the ship. He timed the sensation with his knee pressing against your clothed cunt, and you felt his smile on your own lips as you cried out. 

“You’re lucky you’re not a member of my crew, Y/N,” he rasped in your ear, low and dangerous. “This kind of spectacle would have earned you quite the punishment.”

His heat left you as he grabbed the shirt off the ground, holding it up silently until you pulled it on. There was something about him now that you hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t frightening. 

But it was powerful. Commanding.

It had you melting under those dark eyes. 

“Are you ready for bed, sweetheart?”

All you could do was nod, letting him guide you by the hand until he had you spread on those red sheets again. 

Until he had you screaming his name, begging him to fill you up, to leave you dripping. 

Still not enough. 

He’d kissed his way across your body, pulling you close as his breath went deep and slow with sleep. Once again, this pirate reminded you of the sea, his touch both gentle and chaotic, his voice both soothing and seductive. 

Last night you had such conflicting thoughts about him. Tonight his arm was curled around you, his spicy scent more intoxicating than whatever they’d poured in your mug. Tonight your thoughts all matched up.

He’s wonderful.

I’ll never get enough of his smile, his voice, his touch.

I’ve never felt happier than I have with him today.

He’s leaving in a couple days, and I’ll never see him again. 

~

“Don’t you trust me by now, beautiful?”

He couldn’t see your small smile as you secured the blindfold over his eyes. 

“Don't you trust me,” you teased, tugging the fabric further down his nose.

“You do have a history of attacking me unprovoked–,” he laughed, holding his hand up to stop your retort. “I just wanna see your pretty face.”

Pressing a kiss to his pouting lips, you made your way down the bed. 

“Guess you’ll have to learn to be patient.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but let out a sigh instead as you started tracing your fingers over his skin, giving him the same attention he kept giving you. As if each part of you was precious to him, and he wanted to savor every bit.

Savor. I want to savor this. 

So you did. Everything left your mind except for this moment. The way it used to when you still loved to fish. 

Shanks had helped you remember how to enjoy life.

You wanted to pay him back.

“F-Fuck, Y/N…”

His red hair fell back against the headboard as you sucked the tip of his leaking cock into your mouth. He fisted the sheets, your name and breathy curses still falling from his lips.

Your mouth and fingers had already teased his whole body until he was twitching, so you didn’t waste time with teasing now. With one hand sliding along his shaft, and the other massaging his heavy balls, you circled your tongue around his tip until spit slid down his length.

“Please, Y/N, let me take this off. Let me see you.”

“Not yet,” you breathed, before you forced your way further down.

“Fuck, please,” he begged, drawing out the words as he moaned. “I need to see your face, I need you, please.”

His shaking, desperate body, and his continued pleas to see you froze you for a moment, your mouth still around his tip.

“Please, I need to see you. Fuuckk, I need you, ple–”

“Take it off.”

This was the face you would never forget. 

He looked almost pained when he took it off, his brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched. Then the eyes that met yours looked frantic, almost feral as heavy breaths came from his parted lips. 

He touched your jaw, lifting your face as spit trailed from your mouth to his swollen tip. 

“I don’t wanna stop looking at you again.”

Chills ran over your skin as you whimpered, your hands clenching on him until he moaned. He let you go, but you were too stunned to move, your hands pausing their task. 

He didn’t beg you to continue. He didn’t tease you. He didn’t say a word.

Shanks just stared at you, a hint of a smile on those lips.

Until a low growl filled the room, breaking the spell.

“Does my damsel need breakfast,” he teased softly.

You answered by taking his cock down your throat, relaxing as you pushed yourself further. 

“Oh my– fuck! How are you…”

All the filthy, needy sounds he gave you spurred you on. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, until you forced them open, forcing yourself to meet his hungry gaze. 

You still hadn’t taken in all of him, but the slide of his thick veins along your tongue told you that you might not have time. 

So you pushed further, moaning around him when he wrapped his fingers into your hair. Tears were already prickling in your eyes when you gave him a nod, bracing yourself on his hips. Letting him take control.

“Gods, you’re fucking perfect, sweetheart. So beautiful taking my cock down your throat. I need you so fucking bad–”

Breathing through your nose and hanging on, the feel of him pushing so deep while he watched your face, while he praised and moaned for you… It was all so much, your own body twisting in on itself with need. It felt like you might come without a single touch. 

“So good for me, baby. Take my come for me–”

Unrestrained groans tore from him as he twitched, his hand forcing you down. You cried on his cock as hot ropes of come spilled down your throat, so hot, so fucking much. 

Your mind was empty of everything except for swallowing every last drop. After he’d emptied himself in you, he lifted you gently, letting out a pleased hum as he watched you lick your lips, and drink it all in. 

“Mm, my damsel,” he purred as he kissed your neck, “my darling. Do you wanna have breakfast before or after I drown in your pussy?”

Your stomach could wait. 

After a few minutes of water and rest so you could relearn how to breathe, Shanks worshiped your body again, leaving you tingling, giggling at his soft touches. 

“Come here, sweetheart. Let me taste you.”

Shaky knees held you up as your nails dug into the headboard. You leaned your forehead against the wall as Shanks’ tongue dragged through your folds as if looking for treasure.

And he found treasure, sucking your clit until you chanted his name.

“Relax,” he rasped, tugging on your hip, “I need my pretty girl to sit on my face.”

You had looked down into those devilish eyes, and his words alone had you crying out. 

“But–”

“I’m a pirate, sweetheart. I can hold my breath a long time if I need to.”

His wink tore a laugh from you, and you wanted to poke him for it, but he managed to yank you down with his one hand, his strength making you gasp before his tongue did. 

He rocked your hip back and forth until you followed his movement, grinding your needy cunt across his face. He moaned into your sensitive skin, and you made sounds you didn’t know you could make. 

“Shaaanks, feels so good.”

Every moan, every word you gave him seemed to set him on fire, his tongue exploring so deep when it wasn’t attacking your clit. Rubbing yourself back and forth felt unreal, his mouth and nose driving you mad.

“Please, fuck… I’m gonna come, Shanks.”

You tried to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around your thigh, pressing down across your hips so hard, adding to the pressure.

The screams you let out were so loud, the whole camp had to have heard you. You fell forward and gripped your fingers in his hair, only able to watch those dark eyes for a second before you came in his mouth.

Shanks didn’t stop, he kept moaning, playing, drinking you in until you slumped against the headboard, and begged him to stop. 

“Mm, you look a little distressed,” he rasped in your ear. “How’s my damsel doing?”

He caught your hand as you tried to slap his chest, your limbs weak and useless.

“My girl’s still fiery after all that,” he laughed, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Want me to order us breakfast in bed?”

~

“Where did you grow up?”

It seemed you wouldn’t be leaving the bed at all today, lounging in messy sheets as you held each other. Laughing, humming with pleasure, sitting in the most comfortable silence you’d ever felt. 

Until you started asking questions. 

“You’re lookin’ at it,” he gestured vaguely, bringing a frown to your lips.

“Could you be a bit more specific? I don’t think you grew up in these quarters.”

Shanks let out a sigh, rolling to see your face better.

“I grew up on a pirate ship. Always been a pirate.”

“Literally? Or is this some pirate showboating shi–”

“Literally,” he laughed, his grin making you squirm, almost forgetting your goal. 

“Well, you’ve heard my whole life story,” you drawled, lightly poking his chest. “I’d like to hear something about the drunken pirate that took me hostage.”

“It’s a vacation,” he teased, leaving kisses on your neck until you squealed.

He gave you a satisfied look as your skin flushed, before tapping the tip of your nose.

“You really haven’t heard of me?”

“Should I have? I don’t really pay attention to gossip. The news seems so far away from this shitty island.”

Tilting his head, he gestured to himself, puffing up his chest.

“Red Haired Shanks?”

“… Well, that is how I would describe you,” you deadpanned, trying not to laugh. 

Another heavy sigh left him as he stood, and you admired the sight of his toned body as he headed toward the desk. He laughed at the mess he’d made emptying the drawers last night before he picked up the little stone, and tossed it to you. 

He winked when you caught it, rolling it around in your hands while you watched him pull out a piece of paper.

Staring at it for a minute, Shanks turned back to you, looking more serious than you’d ever seen him.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” he said softly, walking toward you as you sat up in the bed. “I have to show you something, and I don’t want you to be scared.”

Sitting beside you, he caught your eyes, holding your gaze as if you’d disappear if he looked away. 

You didn’t think anything about him could scare you anymore until this moment. 

“What is it,” you choked out, hoping you weren’t about to lose this perfect feeling with him.

He quirked his lips as he looked down, the crinkling of paper the only sound as he laid it on your lap.

“Wow, you look…”

Shanks’ gorgeous face had distracted you. You knew he was a pirate. Of course he would have a bounty on him. But…

“4,048,900,900 berries?”

It felt like your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you shrieked, smacking his chest while he gave a sheepish grin.

“Looks like you’ve got expensive taste?”

“What the fuck, Shanks?”

Shoving the bounty poster at him, a headache started to form as your mind failed to comprehend a thing.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he soothed, stopping himself as he reached out to touch your shoulder. “I’m still just me. Your handsome, drunken pirate, okay?”

You stared at him dumbly as he chewed on his lip, and you were present enough to see the worry in his eyes.

“You’re still safe with me, Y/N. You’re still safe here. I would never hurt you.”

He stopped himself again as he reached for your face, his breath catching when you took his hand in yours.

“I know,” you whispered, holding his hand against your cheek. “I know I’m safe with you.”

A smile of relief broke across his face as he leaned in. You stopped his lips with your fingers, and narrowed your eyes at him, watching his go wide.

“Now you owe me some stories.”

His laugh was like music, and you gasped as you let him fall upon you, letting this pirate taste you, his kiss full of desperate, infectious joy. 

“You have heard of the king of the pirates, right?”

~

“I’ve never met anyone who’s lived more stories than grandma.”

“Your grandma sounds like an amazing woman. What kind of stories did she live,” Shanks asked as he walked his fingers along your skin.

“Well, the thing about fisherman,” you laughed, stretching your arms above your head, “is that you never know which stories are true or not.”

You tapped his nose as his eyes fucking sparkled at you.

“You keep telling me that lying is bad for the soul, but lying for a good story is what makes a true fisherwoman.”

Shanks beamed at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Do you think any of her stories were true?”

Countless hours beside her, just waiting for a bite, flooded your mind. Those were times you treasured, before you grew to feel ashamed, and frustrated with your lot in life.

Those were times that felt magical, like every possibility was free for you to grasp.

“I'd like to think so,” you mused, seeing her playful grin in your mind, “but I’m pretty sure she was a pirate if they were.”

He let you taste his smile as he kissed you, and you’d never tasted anything better.

-

The two of you finally left his quarters for dinner, his warm arm and cloak wrapped around you as you were met with more cheers at the camp. 

“Listen up, crew,” Shanks shouted as he stood, his drink held high. “Our fisherwoman has tales to tell of her grandma the pirate, so let’s gather round. Let’s toast to the woman who taught our fiery damsel how to live!”

Tugging at him was useless as the crew gathered around the fire, their raucous cheers dying down as they waited. 

You were frozen, caught in dread and embarrassment until they called for you.

“Come on, fisherwoman! Let us hear it.”

“Tell us a story, Y/N!”

Shanks rubbed along your spine before taking your hand. You held the stone in the other, and let her stories pour out.

You’d never had anyone to share them with before, and it felt like home. Their reactions, their laughs, and questions, all of it spurred you on. The way they’d cheer and toast over triumphs, and curse over misfortunes, filled you with pride.

“That’s Skypiea, “Yassop called out, amidst a wave of affirmations.

“What’s that,” you questioned, this being the first real interruption of the night. 

“That island,” Benn explained, “we’ve been there before.”

“Don’t fuck with me. That’s stupid, I know she made this one up,” you argued, annoyed with the lies on their faces. “An island in the sky? Come on.”

Shanks squeezed your hand until you looked at him. 

“It’s true,” he swore, eyes heavy with it. “You’re the only one who’s allowed to lie on this crew.”

“But…”

“She must have been a great pirate if she made it to Skypiea,” Lucky Roux chimed in. “What was her name?”

None of them recognized it, and you tried to put the idea to rest.

“If she was a great pirate who settled down with a kid, she probably changed her name,” Benn stated, as if it were fact.

“No. That’s crazy…”

“To the great fisherwoman pirate,” Shanks toasted, with what sounded like reverence. “May her stories live on.”

You drank to the calls of ‘hear hear,’ and her untrustworthy name being shouted at the finally full moon. 

“Well, she did cuss like a sailor,” you whispered, still dissociating after Shanks had pulled you onto his lap. He laughed, kissing the top of your head before he whispered back.

“Wanna take a walk with me?”

“Mhm.”

Everything was so bright, the moonlight making the world feel even more surreal. 

This man I’ve been drowning in is an Emperor of the Sea. 

And grandma's stories might really be true...

You’d been too lost in thought to notice where he’d taken you, until he helped you climb onto the smooth rock by the tide pools. 

Careful not to slip, he guided you around to a relatively dry spot, far enough away to be untouched by the tide this early in the night.

“How are you feeling?”

He touched your chin as you sat down, bringing a small gasp to your lips when you saw his shining face, lit like some mythical creature under this heavenly sky.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, genuinely searching yourself for the answer. “I think I’m good. It’s just a lot.”

His slow smile caught you again, and the knowledge that your time was short shook you, making you reach for him too.

Falling into a hug, you breathed in the scent of him.

I wish this never had to end.

“You sure you’re alright,” he checked in, smoothing his hand over your back as you buried your face in his chest. 

“Kiss me.”

Your whispered command took your breath as his lips met yours. The gentlest of touches, the sweetness he poured into you, made it even harder not to let bittersweet tears fall.

One more day. I have another perfect day with him. Don’t ruin it. 

Your hands curled into his hair, and you whimpered with need as he let you push him onto his back. 

Shanks met your desperate need, grinding up against you as you straddled him, drinking your moans as your tongues danced together. Chaos, the crashing waves getting closer. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, watching you stand to strip under that silver light, tugging his pants down so that you could feel him again.

You needed to feel him again.

“Y/N, you’re incredible. I…”

The full moon lit your skin, but not as much as his gaze did. Those dark eyes left you on fire as you rode his perfect cock to the sound of the tide, his rough hand making you shake as he smoothed along your hips, your stomach, your chest. 

“You make me feel so good,” you moaned, still fighting off the bitter from the sweet. “I’ve never felt so—“

Shanks found leverage against the stone, making you cry out as he thrusted up into you, forcing you to steady yourself with your hands on his chest.

“Fuck, I could stay inside you forever, sweetheart. Your perfect pussy sucks me in so well— Mm fuck, yes, baby.”

Falling forward, you moaned against his skin as you came. He kept fucking up into you until you screamed his name.

“Making yourself come on my cock,” he soothed, stroking your hair as his rhythm slowed, but never stopped. “My girl is so good, so good for me.”

His praise brought whimpers from your lips until he pushed himself up, kissing your neck as you sat in his lap, still holding his heat inside you. 

“Will you help me spread out the clothes, beautiful? I need you— I need to watch you under the moon like this. Please, damsel, let me…”

You both moaned as you pulled yourself off of him, crawling to the pile of clothes to spread them out. He finished stripping, helping you lay down with a makeshift pillow.

Your fingers wrapped around his length, guiding him to your entrance as his eyes burned into yours. Leaning his weight on his elbow beside you, Shanks’ powerful body started to pump into you, filling you, stretching you. 

Slowly, but so deep it made your eyes roll back. 

“Look at me, please.” 

His words were barely a whisper, barely loud enough to hear over the waves. But you heard his plea, your fingers digging into his skin as you studied his face. 

It hurt. You fought to let it be joy. But the intensity, the need, the awe that seemed to flow from him was too much. 

Because it seemed to match yours, and you couldn't risk believing it.

Timing your breath with the waves, you let the bitter fade away. You let yourself be nothing at all, except for the lucky person making love to him under the light of the moon. The lucky person whose skin got to be seen, and touched, and tasted by this perfect pirate. This beautiful, sweet, intoxicating man. 

Neither of you spoke again. Just watched each other as you fell apart, and the only words given to the night were your names. 

Your bodies met that blissful moment together, like some pagan ritual. The bright sky bore witness to pure pleasure, pure connection. 

The magic seemed to last forever, your breathless bodies still melded together. Still together. 

Until bitter finally won, breaking the spell as salty tears slid down to meet the tide. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Mourning the loss of him as he left your body, you brushed those tears aside, and did what every fisherwoman knows how to do.

“I’m okay,” you breathed, smiling as you touched his cheek.

You lied. 

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Please save me, I am down a rabbit hole. Too far down, I think. Damn these "one shots," consuming my soul, making me fall in love. I don't know if I'll recover from this one.

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @nothing-but-brass | @honeyoru | @onlyseob | @constawrites | @gingernut1314 | @i-am-vita | @laurelthesimp | @therealsatorugojo | @jadeddangel

Part 4 (End)

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

[dixonsstinkysock]

‘ONGOKX

PROLOGUE

“can i get a kiss?”

“and can you make it last forever?”

“i said im bout’ to go to war.”

“and i dont know if imma see you again.”

pairing: Platonic Spider Socorro (#1 spider defender)

word count: roughly 600

Plot: spiders na’vi “mother” attempts to save her son but instead gets captured with him. during the time of them both being in captivity they both develop deep relationships with the recoms 😩 amazing plot (mostly follows movie storyline js added mother!reader into it )

Notes: This is my first ever story so I’m kinda nervous 😬 dont be mean, thank you goodbye💪‼️

PANDORA FOREST

The sound of soft singing could be heard from a small stream in Pandora’s forest. The stream was surrounded by rocks and boulders, clusters of lively, deep-colored vegetation.

In the stream, A Mother would be seen with her son. Her Human son. There were no words being sung, only syllables. As her long blue fingers clean the boy’s blonde dreads, memories seemed to bleed into her mind. Sweet, Old memories of when her son was just a prrnen ('pr.nen-baby).

Enter Memory

Beautiful Chestnut eyes peered into her gold ones. The young human boy has ran into one of the female Omaticaya warriors, while out with the Oloeyktan, Jake Sully, and his children. He seems to be a bit lost and tells the women he needs help getting back to his friends. The Warrior agrees to help, and scoops him up on her back.

On the way to his destination, the woman seemes to be fond of the human boy. She learns his name and they finally say their goodbyes and go their separate ways. Except everyday after that, He finds himself in her company more than he is with the Oloeyktan’s children.

End Memory

“Sa’nu?..” … “sa'nok." The grown boy’s voice finally reaches his mother ears. “Yes, maitan?” you respond. “Are you almost finished? I am supposed to go and see Lo’ak soon.” he spoke.

“Yes I am done, Let’s go. Its almost eclipse and I need to speak with Jake Sully..” His mother gathers the soaps for bathing and starts their way back to High Camp.

HIGH CAMP

The five kids could hear the hushed voices of their parents. By the tone in their voices they could tell something was wrong. In the Oloeyktan’s tent, You and Neytiri were having a little dispute about you not joining the war parties because of your overprotectiveness with your son.

Neytiri is past frustrated and isn’t thinking about the words that are coming out of her mouth. “He does not belong here, he should be with his own kind. On his planet.” she states. “He is stopping you from your duties-“ “ He is more important than my duties .“ Neytiri does not take it kindly when you interrupt her, she hisses at you. “I do not appreciate you belittling him- belittling me.” A lenghty pause was taken. “That ‘tawtute’ you degrade, is my son. I will not stand by and let you continue to shame him.”

Jake sees this argument can only get worse by your body language,so he steps in. “Alright, lets calm down and go back to our original issue..” he looks at you. “We need you out there ___… they are only getting stronger and smarter. Now we need all hands on deck. Please.” You take his ask into consideration. These war parties are the only thing protecting your home. Miles’ home. Your family’s home. “I will join you Oloeyktan Jake.”

SCOUTING

Flying on your ikran, seeing all the beautiful moutains and forests, having the wind blow against you will never get old. Scouting with Jake Sully, Neytiri and their first-born Neteyam was going exceptional. Until a distress call from Jake’s second-born comes through.

“Devil dog this is Eagle eye, over”

“Eagle eye send your traffic”

“I’ve got eyes on some guys…they look like avatars but, they’re in full camo and carrying ARs. Theres six of them. Over.”

“What’s your pos? Over”

You scanned Jake’s face for any sign of discomfort.

“Um.. We’re at the old shack.”

“Who’s we?”

Jake was uneasy.., who did Lo’ak rope into this mess with him?

Posted : April 6th, 2023

Na’vi Definitions:

Sa’nu: Mommy, Mom

Sa’nok: Mother

Maitan: My son

Tawtute: Human, Skyperson

[fluffyprettykitty]

Serendipity

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x reader (no other specifications or gender)

Word Count: 600 words

Outline: You were a hopeless romantic dreaming of finding the one, he was wishing for exactly the same.

Author’s Note: Day twenty-four of the over 200 words daily prompts for February. Today's prompt is 'library/bookstore au'. With a short dash of soulmates au.

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics​

🌟 Please, like or reblog and comment, all feedback is appreciated and warmly encouraged and allows me to know what people are interested in reading!🌟

Main Masterlist ・❥・Joaquin Torres Masterlist

"Hello, I am looking for a book. But I can't seem to find it."

"No problem, just give me a moment."

The voice on the other side of the phone sounded warm and homely. You were sure it belonged to a beautiful man. It never took you long enough to find yourself infatuated with a man. The less you know them, the better.

Finding yourself playing with the phone cord while you were briefly waiting, humming, and daydreaming. Until he tells you that the store will have your book by Friday.

Enthusiastically you thank him and end the call.

Can you fall in love with a voice?

You were a hopeless romantic, looking at the same stranger for more than a minute always resulted in you getting butterflies.

Can you fall in love with a daydream?

Come Friday you were excited and ecstatic to pick up your book.

What you never expected is how each and every one of your expectations came true. But it didn't happen immediately.

Walking through the open door of the store, the distinct dingle of the bell is heard, the wind brushing your hair while you are scanning the room. Your steps were steady and stable. Determined to find what you were looking for.

Walking forward confidently you reach for the register and place your hands on the shelf tapping your fingers anxiously. A man comes to greet but you can tell by the way his voice sounds that this was not the one you had talked to earlier this week. Not to mention that he looked well to be in his sixties.

"Hello, how may I assist you?"

"I am supposed to be picking a copy of a book today."

"Ah yes, we have it right here."

"I am terribly sorry but I spoke to someone else on the phone?"

"Oh that was my son, Joaquin, he is not here yet."

"Oh."

You audibly exclaimed, evident disappointment in your voice but a smile creeping on your face. Your dream might yet come true.

"Do you happen to know my son?"

"No, no, I was just wondering that is all."

What you didn't know was that Joaquin was in the back opening and organizing some deliveries and could clearly hear your conversation.

"Alright here is your book. If you would like to browse a little you can. We offer very sensible prices."

The man's voice was cheery and warm, it resembled a homecoming.

"Thank you, of course, I will take a look around."

Turning on your heel, you head to the romance section, browsing through the different books. It was true that you loved buying copies of the same books the prettier the cover was.

You were holding a book and reading its back cover, deep in your thoughts when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Heard you have been looking for me?"

Maybe all of my life. You think to yourself and smile warmly.

It doesn't feel like a startle, more like the calm breeze of the ocean on a warm summer night.

There is a smile formed in the curl of his lips, kind brown eyes shining underneath his glasses, dressed in a white tee that illuminated his face and his silk curls. He runs his fingers through his hair and licks his lips together.

"I have. Have you been looking for me?"

Now there is a sly smirk on your face as you are placing the book down.

"Maybe all of my life."

Your smile turns wider as you now know you can walk straight into your daydream.

[princessbatears]

Winter Challenge 2021 - Day 30 (Fireworks)

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Werewolf Female Reader Summary: Your first experience of fireworks does not go as planned POV: Reader Warnings: auditory overstimulation, fear/panic Words: 600

“The night is perfect for this,” Pero says, staring at the clear, dark sky with unusual excitement. The other men, women and children at the festival are also looking up with anticipation.

You’d never heard of these black powder fire tubes before Pero, but you’re very eager to witness them now. Apparently, when lit, they shoot beautiful sparkles into the sky.

“Oh, they’re getting them ready!” He points to the platform where several people are doing something by torch light.

“Should we try to get closer?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Until I know those men can handle black powder, I want to stay far away from it. We’ll be able to see just as well back here.”

Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you wait impatiently.

Then, your sensitive ears pick up an high-pitched whistling. Its unpleasantness makes you cringe and you hope it stops soon.

“There it goes, love!” Pero grins, pointing at something flying straight up in the air.

You’re distracted from the screeching, your sharp eyes honing in on the small tubes of paper. They go way into the sky, the tiniest red spark traveling the long stem that hangs from them.

BOOOM!

The explosion is shockingly violent. Your chest constricts with panic and you immediately collapse into a crouch, hands covering your head, expecting the whole area to be destroyed. Several smaller, sharper pops go off, each one making you flinch.

“Hey, hey,” Pero’s soothing voice murmurs into your ear as he kneels next to you. “It’s all right, that’s what’s supposed to happen. We’re safe back here.”

More whistling, another horrendous discharge that shakes the air and earth, and then the popping.

You whimper, your head feeling like it’s going to burst with the sound. The Wolf wants you to get out of there, but each new boom keeps you paralyzed. Why is it so loud? Why does it have to be so loud?

Pero’s hands tug under your arms. “Come on, let’s go,” he says shortly.

You still can’t move.

He says your name, his tone gentling. “It’ll be better farther away.”

Only the promise of less noise gets you to your feet. On jelly legs, you begin to walk, clinging to his arm. He shoves his way through the throng of people.

Once you’re out of the crowd, he picks up the pace. Normally, you can easily keep up, but your instinct to hide every time there’s another explosion makes you slow and clumsy. More than once you almost trip, forcing him to brace you.

Finally, he stops in a thicket of trees. His eyes are hard and mouth tight, probably angry you’ve ruined the fun.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, fighting tears.

Pero’s expression softens immediately, cupping your face in his hands. “No, no, sweetheart, I’m sorry! I didn’t think about how loud and frightening it might be for you.” He hugs you tightly and you melt into his embrace.

The black powder tubes continue to blow up, but it’s more bearable at this distance. You peek around him and see the flames lighting up the sky for the first time.

“Oh, it’s pretty,” you breathe.

He smiles, glancing over his shoulder. “Yeah.” Then, he kisses between your eyes. “Let’s go home. You shouldn’t be able to hear much from the cottage.”

You shake your head. “We can watch from here. It’s not so bad.”

“Are you sure?”

Sitting on the cold, patchy grass, you pull him down next to you. He settles you against his chest, then puts his hands over your ears to help muffle the remaining noise. In his arms, you feel safe and can enjoy the rest of the show.

Thank you SO much for reading this story; I'd love to hear your thoughts! 🥰

Pero Tovar Masterlist Werewolf Masterlist

[sneezefiction]

please don’t go

Ushijima x Reader - Scenario

@moonlightaangel‘s event request: “congrats on reaching 600 followers!! 🥰 can i request ‘please don’t go’ with ushijima, if it hasn’t been requested yet! i need some angsty feelings in my life”

a/n: mmmm angsty Ushijima is my aesthetic :,,)) i also messed around with some flashback formatting, so i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: angst, breakups

wc: 1640

---

“Please don’t go.” It’s a soft, tearful whisper.

“I thought you would understand, y/n. We had established this.” His reply was blunt. Like a dull knife to the chest, digging deeply only to pull right back out, leaving you gushing and writhing at his words.

“Please don’t.” Your cry reached his ears this time.

“I need to focus.” He sighs, twinging with guilt. 

Why didn’t you understand? Had you not known that his career would come first? Above everything else?

Or had he misspoken at some point, giving you the false assurance that this relationship would work forever? That he could always treat you as though it were possible to balance both you and his life’s work.

“Then I won’t distract you! Just don’t leave me. Please.” You begged, knees painfully falling to the cold floor, but your cries fell on deaf ears. 

He remains resistant to change. Without accommodations. Nothing left to give or take.

“Maybe someday, y/n. But this isn’t working out for me anymore. I have to leave for now.” Ushijima’s response is icy. 

He meant for those words to somehow be heartening. Promising, even. That maybe this was just the wrong time and place for a relationship. Where time could ebb and flow and someday he would be able to draw you back into his life.

Yes, there would be a day where you could take priority.

Because he wanted you… but not above his first love. Not above his skills and lifestyle. Not enough.

Volleyball comes first. Plain and simple.

And for that, he wouldn’t compromise.

---

White, crisp linens and fresh lemony scents.

Fluffed pillows fitted with new covers and soft patterns. Feather filled duvets. Curtains drawn to keep out the early morning light. 

Everything has stayed clean, clear, and Pristine. Even the dust particles, dancing around the room, have always seemed to find their own peace, settling mildly in gentle formations.

You sleepily blink open your eyes, rustling your arms over the bedspread to what should be a happier sight. Soft pillows hugging your sides, the gentle birdsong outside your window, a conceivably delicious cup of coffee to be made in the kitchen.

Yes, you should be filled with contentment. You were safe. Physically you were fine, and nothing was on your checklist for today.

In fact, things had appeared fine for months now...

Yet all you notice is who’s missing.

There’s no longer a delicate divet where his dozing head used to lay. The scent and shape of the pillow had only recently dissipated thanks to your citrusy laundry detergent and the slow passing of time.

You don’t awaken to a recently showered, olive-green eyed boyfriend. You could still picture the water droplets, hanging freshly on the tips of his tufts of hair. How the towel draped around his neck, over his shoulders, catching the drips and drops as they fell.

That warm smile he shared with you before placing a chaste kiss upon your forehead, caressing the side of your face. It was pure. You can almost feel the ghost of his lips. Still lingering. Mocking you.

You were liberated from his presence… but you never wanted to be.

Being absorbed in his chaotic life had kept you busy, but you had never minded it. There was never a doubt in your mind that volleyball would be his first priority. That he would follow his passions. His plans. His abilities.

You just wanted to tag along. To sincerely celebrate his victories and mourn his losses. Supporting him and holding onto him when he needed it. Yes, he got home late at night, left early in the morning, and only connected with you on his very few off days… but you cherished every second of it.

Because you loved him. You poured your soul into watching him flourish and thrive. It made you feel whole.

However, eventually, to Ushijima, you started to rival volleyball, becoming a distraction. He had made space for you in his already complicated life. And at first, it was a welcome change. A breath of fresh air to his methodical and planned out character. You were complex, bringing new perspective and sunshine into his typically boring apartment. Beautiful in a natural, yet eye-catching way. Furthermore, you somehow knew how to keep up with his hectic pace along with his gruff personality. 

In every aspect, you were perfect.

Expect one.

You were a diversion from the life he had in mind.

And even though you never pushed him to give you more… he longed to give you more of his attention. More time. To share his success with you. To love you deeper. To give you what you deserved. Because you are a profound being… and it burdened him to have to choose between his two greatest desires.

But, as most things do, these thoughts of love and devotion go unspoken, coming out all wrong. Mangled, unemotional, and misrepresented. Looking back, Ushijima wishes he’d been able to express it to you with empathy. To erase the tears that followed his brutal narrative. But softness isn’t his strong suit… and he needed you to know that, as powerful as he was, he wasn’t strong enough to balance you and volleyball.

---

“Ushijima, if you leave…” You take a deep breath, tears slipping down your face, “... you have to promise me you’ll never come back.” You choke out, your request came out in a sobering snarl.

For a moment, you question your own words- but your dignity was on the line.

“You can’t just break up with me and expect me to be there when you get back. I’m not disposable, you know?”

His body goes rigid. He hadn’t meant it that way.

You meant more to him than words could express… so why couldn’t he get it out clearly enough? How could he make you understand the gravity of his choices?

“...Y/n, it doesn’t have to be like that. I just need to concentrate right now.” The alarm, though subtle, shines in his eyes.

His usually composed, confident figure began to show cracks of uncertainty. He didn’t want you out of his life… Not at all.

He just needs you out of his mind for the time being. Just until he had things settled. You could come back at some point and he could love you so well. Just the way it was supposed to be.

But clearly he’d struck a deeper chord. He’d selfishly assumed you would wait for him. You weren’t some prized pony.

You’re a person. Someone with worth, plans, and dreams, just like him. He’d failed to acknowledge just how demeaning the truth of his actions were. But it’s too late.

You haven’t replied and the pain is etched intricately across your face.

“Okay, fine.” He breathes in deeply, letting out one final exhalation of defeat, “I... I’m sorry, y/n.” His brows furrow in deep, conflicted thought, but his mind is made.

He won’t be back.

---

Ushijima’s life hasn’t changed much.

It’s the same old routine. The standard, grueling workouts. Typical volleyball practice, group meetings, finances, paychecks, physicals, doctor’s appointments, fan meet-n-greets.

The usual.

But there’s a void settling like glacial frost in his soul. A snowy blue that seemed to melt into his bones, slowing him down.

He didn’t go a week… a day...  a minute without thinking of you.

Even now, lying in bed, the room cloaked in a tranquil darkness, you rest on his mind.

It’s not just the emptiness of the bed or the lack of physical touch. It’s the bitter, clawing memories of what he’d done to you and your gentle spirit. His body is frigid and forever frozen in the recurring visions of his foolish explanations, by how heartless and indifferent he’d seemed.

He’ll never get over the venomous tinge to your words.

You’d felt used.

He’d never meant to make you feel that way.

But since he moved out of your apartment, everything has felt glaringly hollow. The icy, barren tundra he crosses every time he realizes he won’t come home to your sunbeam smile and those thoughtfully lit candles, wears on him. How you would lavish him in comforting words, lulling him into a restful sleep.

Ushijima hardly remembers the last time he slept well.

Those dark circles under his eyes follow him everywhere. His whole team can see the exhaustion seeping into his execution of serves and spikes. He’s never struggled with his game performance before, but somehow the crashing reality of you leaving him has broken his patterns and systems.

He’s weary from searching for an answer to his emotions. Your warmth gave him life… and with that gone, what was the point of all of this?

And then it struck him, the realization sinking its needle-sharp claws into his soul, shredding it in seconds.

He’d found something far more valuable than any unique skill. More remarkable than the legacy he’d built as a world-class volleyball player. Someone who wanted to be with him just for the sake of… love.

And for the first time since he was young, he lets a tear slip into his white pillowcase.

Just one.

But it’s for you.

Because in chasing after what made him feel known and alive...

He’d lost the only person who had ever wanted to show him that he was important all along. The only person who was satisfied with his bizarre schedules. Someone who expected nothing more than gentle kisses and weekend dates.

But you were right.

You aren’t dispensable. Nor are you someone to drop for the purpose of picking up later, like loose change on a sidewalk. You deserved to be cherished. Held tightly. Given the love that you offered others.

He wishes he’d listened when you’d pleaded with him to stay. That he’d thought it through and functioned on more than just logic and reasoning. If only he’d known what it really meant to choose you.

Because if you were here now, he’d be the one begging,

“Please don’t go.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @kaidasen, @miss-rin

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list) 

[seokmingiggles]

powdered sugar.

@ofrosesandteacups​ requested on 201220: "Would you do a fluff Yoongi one shot where he goes home for the holidays with his girlfriend for the first time (but he's previously met her family when they've come for a short visit) and although he's nervous, he finds that since his girlfriend is the youngest of her family with a wide age gap between her and her siblings (like 8 years older) she gets babied by them/gets them to do things for her by being cute/whining which he's seen bits of in Seoul but she usually independent and tends to take care of him and the rest of the boys so he teases her for it? Also I really enjoyed 'Comfortable' and I'm excited for whatever else you create!"

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship, holiday season.

1.85k words

Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol consumption, (dialogue heavy).

On the drive home from your parent's Christmas Eve dinner with the rest of your family, your boyfriend enjoys hearing you whine as he reminds you of the way you're coddled by your older siblings. Later on, he continues to pamper you when you return home. Alternatively, Yoongi wants to baby you every once in a while because you're just so darn cute.

A/N: Thank you for the request (and for all the support you've shown for me so far)! This one was a bit tricky for me to think about since I am the eldest of my family. I tried to put myself in my step-sister's shoes (who is younger than me by nine years) to come up with how the reader would feel being the youngest. I hope it turned out okay! I kind of made it turn into something else near the end (it felt like I was around 600 words for a long time, and then it suddenly became 1.8k). Please enjoy :)

•• "Wait, no, when Jun got hit when we opened the champagne! That was the highlight of dinner, I swear. My cousin is hilarious."

You laughed again just picturing your tall relative hiding in the corner of the kitchen behind your (much smaller) aunt, but still getting the cork to his head despite his efforts.

"Yeah, Junhui is something else, that's for sure," Yoongi grinned, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead of him. One of his hands was on the steering wheel, while the other encased in yours. "Do you want to know my favourite part about seeing your family again?"

You glanced over at your boyfriend, interested in what his opinion was, "I bet it was the turkey my mom made. I know you love her cooking."

"Well, yes, that's a given," Yoongi silently thanked your mom again when he remembered the delicious care package she put together before you left, "but actually, I love seeing how different you act when you're surrounded by your siblings."

"I should have known." You rolled your eyes despite knowing he wouldn't see the action under the passing streetlights.

"It's true! I keep forgetting you're the youngest when it's just you and me. You always insist on taking care of me and asking how I'm doing, so it's funny to see your siblings pull that stuff on you when you're all together." Your boyfriend's face was illuminated crimson from the traffic light. He glanced at you, "You're the baby. The little, tiny baby-"

"Ah, stop it!" You smacked his hand situated on your lap.

"Be careful, (Y/N)-ie, that dish just came out of the oven!" Yoongi ignored your gentle warning and continued to tease, quoting what your siblings had said earlier, "Let me do it. You can go sit down at the table."

"Now you're just as bad as them, Yoon."

The light turned green.

"You just rile them up when you walk around all cute and pouty. I'm scared to open the champagne bottle. Can someone else do it for me, please?" Now he was quoting you.

"And I had the right to be scared of it! You saw how it hit Jun's forehead!" You still couldn't get over how the cork managed to find him. "Are you telling me that I'm not normally that cute around you?"

Yoongi scoffed, "You already know I think you're cute. It's just that you're so different around your family."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, not at all. But it catches me off guard. They're all so cautious about their youngest doing things on her own." Another stoplight. "But little do they know what a big girl their baby sister has become!"

He had the audacity to poke your cheek as he laughed; a cold sensation on your skin warmed from the champagne—you’d had both yours and Yoongi's portion as the boy knew he'd have to drive you both home afterwards.

"Yoongi," you dragged out, "please! I could be teasing you at how stiff you were when you first walked through the door tonight."

"That's not the same."

"Isn't it? It's nice to see you again, Mr. (L/N). I swear you corrected your posture as soon as my dad opened the door."

Now Yoongi was whining out a complaint.

"They like you already; my family has for a while. I don't know why you still act so proper around them."

"I'm only being a good son-in-law."

"Say that again after you propose, Min."

"Yes, ma'am."

You finally were met with silence, a nice change from your boyfriend's loving teasing. You leaned your head against the top of the passenger seat and watched the colourful lights pass by. The radio was quietly playing in the background; a Christmas hymn barely heard over the noisy car, crunching over the gravelled-down streets.

"Do you want me to propose?"

You almost missed Yoongi's words from your ears being tuned to the gentle orchestral arrangement playing from the speakers.

"Of course I do," you cooed. "I love you, so yes. Without a doubt, one day, when we both feel ready to take that step."

"You know we've been together for years now, (Y/N). It'll be our sixth in the spring. Maybe it was because I saw your siblings with their spouses tonight; it got me thinking about it all. Your eldest sister already has a daughter too." He paused, eyes still focussed on the snowy road, "It made me wonder if you'd want that too someday. With me."

You couldn't help the smile that formed across your face at picturing a lifetime with the boy next to you. You squeezed Yoongi's hand intertwined with your own.

"That sounds perfect, Yoongi. Any future with you sounds perfect."

The car finally reached its designated parking spot in front of your condominium unit. Yoongi put the vehicle in park and removed the keys, but you both remained in your seats with hands still laced together.

You turned your head to the side to see Yoongi already giving you a fond gaze.

"I love you," he whispered. Anything louder would seem deafening under the delicate snowflakes beginning to fall, instantly melting as they hit the glass of the car's windows. "Merry Christmas, (Y/N)."

"Merry Christmas, Yoongi. I love you too."

The two of you exited the car and collected the cards and small presents arranged in the backseat that your family so graciously handed to you after dinner. Of course, also not forgetting the leftovers your boyfriend was so enthusiastic about too.

You unlocked the door to your home as Yoongi had the assorted gifts held tightly to his chest with the oversized Tupperware of food in his hands, carrying it like some prized possession.

He walked over to the small decorated tree in your living room to add the few new additions of prettily wrapped boxes beneath the shrubbery after dropping the food in the fridge on his way. He plugged in the lights and admired the way the tree sparkled.

He found himself looking beneath the tree at one small box in particular. "Hey, could I give you a gift tonight, love?"

You were in the entryway hanging up your jackets and putting away your boots. Once finished, you made your way to see Yoongi sat on the floor next to the tree: his portrait glowing from the gleaming lights.

You smiled at the view; your boyfriend never failed to take your breath away. "I don't know, technically it's not Christmas yet."

"It will be in ten minutes."

"Hm, I suppose I can let it slide just this once."

You made your way closer to Yoongi, taking a seat in front of him on the carpet.

"Can you close your eyes for me?"

You obliged his request, but quipping, "Your idea of a gift that can't wait until tomorrow better not be a kiss, Min Yoongi."

You felt a soft peck on your lips.

"You know me too well, love."

But you also felt something small placed in your hands.

"You can open your eyes now."

As your eyes fluttered back open, revealed to you was a small box. It was no bigger than your palm; black velvet with a forest green ribbon decorating it, turning into a delicate bow resting on its top.

You looked back up at Yoongi, who only nodded his head to encourage you to open it.

Pulling at the ribbon, your breath hitched when you carefully opened the lid.

It was a necklace. In the shape of a heart, it looked even more golden from the warm-toned twinkling lights of the tree next to you.

"Yoongi, it's beautiful," you gasped, already removing it from its container.

"It's a locket," your boyfriend commented, taking it from your smaller hands so he could show you.

Upon opening it, you were met with two small photos on each half of the heart. The left side had a tiny family photo with you, your parents, and your siblings at your graduation a few years back, and the other side contained an old photo of you and Yoongi around the time you first started dating.

You almost felt like crying; the gesture was so thoughtful.

"Your mom found these photos buried away and gave a few to me. I know how much your family means to you, so that's why I chose this one," he pointed to the one with you grinning in your cap and gown and smushed in the middle of a hug by your siblings, "and I'm fairly certain that I also mean a lot to you, so I wanted to include a photo of us." Yoongi brushed his thumb against the right half of the heart housing your younger faces.

"This is the most thoughtful gift I've ever received, Yoongi." You released your grip on the velvet box and moved to embrace the boy, "I can't thank you enough. You're so wonderful to me."

"Merry Christmas, my love," Yoongi returned the hug, smiling into the top of your head. "Would you like my help to put it on?"

You reluctantly let go and sat in front of him once again. "I think you've spent too much time around my siblings, Yoon. You know you don't have to treat me like a baby the way they all do. I'm capable of doing things myself even if they say otherwise."

"I know you can, (Y/N), but you're my baby. I think there are different rules. Here, let me help you."

You sighed with a smile and shook your head at Yoongi's persistence, but turned around in your spot nonetheless. He carefully maneuvered the necklace around you, fiddling with the clasp until the sides hooked together properly.

You spent a little while longer in the gentle ambiance of the decorated tree and watched the dainty snowflakes fall from the sky. It was past midnight now; the world was quiet. Silenced by the powdered sugar fragments drifting down from the heavens and covering the earth in a blanket of icing white.

You fiddled with the chain around your neck, leaning back into Yoongi's warm chest, having moved from your spot on the floor and to the couch.

You felt him press a kiss onto the back of your head, his protective hold around you tightening ever so slightly. Maybe it was from the coziness being in Yoongi's arms, or possibly from the big dinner you had a few hours ago—you felt yourself beginning to drift off, not fighting the all-encompassing tranquillity.

It was only at the sound of your breathing becoming heavier when Yoongi realized the predicament he found himself in. He smiled, wanting to coo at how cute you looked asleep in his arms, but he chose not to wake you.

Instead, he planned on bugging you about it when you inevitably woke up, saying something about how his little baby didn't even make it to the bed because she was so tired.

Yes, like your siblings, you were his baby too. Until you had your own, and maybe even after then as well, you'd be his baby.

••

[aobajohxsai]

(Fem!Reader HC) May I request for Oikawa, Iwa, Daichi, Tsukki and Yams's girlfriends feeling insecure because the boys are surrounded by taller and slimmer (she's short and chubby) girls so she grows distant with them and starts to avoid them like the plague. How they find out, approach and reassure/comfort the girl will be up to you~ 💖 I understand if you dw to write this. ^-^ It's just, I've struggled with my looks for years and it's just ☹☹☹ Sending love and hugs 🥰 - 🍡 anon

has it been six months since i last posted sth here

yes.

Love, I’m so sorry everything took so long!! Your wonderful messages never failed to brighten up my day and I just think you’re the loveliest person I’ve ever met! I may not show it, via my blatant avoidance of this blog, but you’re amazing and I appreciate every message, thank you!!

Without further ado, I hope this was worth the wait (probably not, I haven’t written in half a year, but I tried my best) <3

Also, I didn’t do Daichi, Tsukki and Yams, as I went wayyy overboard with the headcanons (it’s 600+words each), but feel free to request them again in a separate ask, love :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oikawa and Iwaizumi comforting their insecure girlfriend (Plus-sized!Reader)

Warnings: Some self-loathing, but it turns fluffy afterwards

You tried to even your breathing, (e/c) eyes glued to the horde of fangirls almost jumping on your boyfriend. Your hot, talented, brilliant, athletic boyfriend - Who, to your dismay, seemed adamant to keep flirting back.

Normally, you weren’t a jealous person - It’s a given when it comes to dating someone such as “The Great King”. That day, however, the green monster seemed to be rearing its ugly head, pushed upwards by all your deep-rooted insecurities. The girls he was surrounded with were stunning - Long, slim legs, the oversized sweater of the Seijoh uniform actually being oversized on them, the way they seemed to look so much better by your lovely boyfriend’s side than you.

“Y’know he’s only doing that to ensure Seijoh’s popularity or whatever bullshit he keeps spewing about it, right?”, a deep voice spoke from behind you, effectively startling you. How Iwaizumi could read you so well, that would always surprise you, but you supposed it came with years upon years of having to read his seemingly unreadable best friend. You tried to will away the tears that had formed in your eyes, letting out a small giggle at Hajime’s characteristic profanity.

“Oi, Shittykawa! Get your ass over here and greet your girlfriend!”, he yelled, effectively grabbing the attention of the entire fan-club and the man to whom it was dedicated. You felt a deep flush rising on your cheeks at the attention, prepared to listen to a quick dismissal from your boyfriend, but were instead met with a surprisingly feminine squeal.

Oikawa seemed to all but pounce on you, taking you into a tight hug and spinning you around a little. Placing you back down, his whiskey eyes seemed to have a gleam to them, effectively having lit up the second he’d seen you.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, before pouting exaggeratedly.

“Why didn’t you say anything, love? I kept waiting and waiting and my beautiful girlfriend just wouldn’t show up!”

That’s when the previously-forgotten dread made its appearance again. He hadn’t even noticed you in the sea of pretty girls. But that’s alright - You should have seen it coming, ever since you started dating the most popular guy in your high-school. Just fake it ‘til you make it, c’mon, he made a joke, laugh, Y/N, dammit-

A bitter laugh left your lips, so aggressive it even startled Oikawa. 

“It’s quite alright, wouldn’t have expected you to, surrounded by all these pretty girls and all.” Another aggravated laugh left your lips, as you tried to sell it as a good-natured joke, but it was obvious that your boyfriend had definitely read through it. His expression seemed to darken, brows furrowing, before he quickly fell back into his well-rehearsed role, letting out an exaggerated gasp. 

“Oh, but you’re the prettiest one out of all of them! I’d never miss your gorgeous face!” He smirked, before squishing your cheeks lightly, eyes widening in a playful expression. “Actually”, he motioned towards the girls still watching you guys oh God- before promptly placing a hand around your shoulders, pulling you into his side protectively.

“Hey, everyone, look at my beautiful, lovely, gorgeous, girlfriend! Isn’t she the prettiest?”

The girls seemed to be whispering amongst themselves, confused expressions adorning their faces, before nodding shyly. You couldn’t have cared less, though - In the arms of the boy you loved, you were sure you’d never feel insecure ever again.

Having your boyfriend be the ace of a popular volleyball team was proving to be an incredible experience, as you had the opportunity to witness not only the developing friendships on the team, but also the colossal amount of hard work that went into the winning streak they had been on for the past few matches.

You couldn’t be more proud - wearing Iwaizumi’s jersey in the stands, your voice louder than anyone else’s - Everything was going well, except for one little, tiny thing.

For once, along with the relentless Oikawa Tooru fanclub, a small group of girls had seemed to form around Iwaizumi, the only thing you could overhear being something about his “hands that were totally made for choking”. 

The bigger issue? They were all perfect. In their tiny, stupid skirts and their cute shirts and their sharp jawlines and sculpted faces and - Well, you had curves where others didn’t and you weren’t particularly proud of your body. Your thighs seemed larger than usual and you almost gasped at the sudden wave of despair washing over you. Why would he date you when he could easily have them?

You weren’t a masochist in any sense - However, you found yourself unable to turn off your eavesdropping, only hearing more and more things that would make you spiral into self-loathing. You felt overwhelmed, so you quickly grabbed your bag and hurried out of the room, finding a bench to sit on and simply breathe.

Not long afterwards, however, you heard lots of squeals - presumably from Iwa and Oikawa’s fanclub - and prepared yourself for what you’d have to witness.

To your surprise, however, as soon as the doors of the court opened, you could only see a tuft of black hair aggressively elbowing everyone in the crowd, dropping a nonchalant “sorry” here and there, before finally running straight into your arms.

He breathed in your perfume, still hugging you tightly, before letting go and grinning widely towards you.

Before he could speak, however, he found himself being interrupted by some loud squeals. Looking at you, he rolled his eyes playfully before shouting:

“Trashikawa, grab your stupid fanclub and get out of here, I can’t talk to (Y/N) properly!”

To your surprise, the setter’s face twisted into that annoying, cocky smirk of his, before he coyly replied: 

“Iwa-chan, maybe you should grab a hold of your fanclub! We’re well-behaved here, aren’t we?”, he smiled dazzlingly towards the nearest girl and you swore you saw her faint.

Upon glancing at your boyfriend, however, you quickly noticed his agape mouth, the surprised look quickly being overtaken by a frown, a hand grazing the back of his neck.

“Uh, thank you, ladies, I appreciate it, but I really wanted to talk to my girlfriend, so would you mind leaving us alone?”

He was being so genuine, you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest - It’s alright, he’s just happy to be supported, you had to remind yourself.

The ace had noticed your sour look, however, quickly turning back to you, mouth turned down into a scowl.

“Why the fuck can’t they stick to Shittykawa?”

You smiled giddily, before tangling a hand in his spiky locks. “Well that’s because you’re sweet, kind, genuine - muscular - and, uh”, you looked down embarrassedly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “fuck, you should be with one of them, I don’t deserve you.”

Now, you’d seen an annoyed Iwa plenty of times, but this couldn’t be matched - His brows seemed to furrow until they almost disappeared, his mouth pressed into a tight scowl as he looked your face up and down, checking whether or not you were being serious. Upon noticing that indeed, that was the case, he pulled you into him a tad too aggressively, pushing your chin up lightly to gaze into your eyes. 

His glare seemed to soften, before he started peppering your face with kisses. 

“You”, kiss, “are”, kiss, “the best goddamn thing”, kiss, “that’s ever happened to me.”

Finishing with his assault of kisses, Iwaizumi gave you a soft smile, before glaring playfully. “If you ever think that any of those girls would interest me half as much as you do, you’re really just as much of an idiot as Trashikawa, you know.”

Finally, he looked around before promptly squeezing your thigh, his large hand almost engulfing it. A small smirk played on his lips as he rose his gaze back to yours.

“I promise I’ll show you how gorgeous you are when we get home.”

[phantomnostalgist]

Ethan Freeman Phantom interview

An interview with Ethan Freeman from about 1994 or 1995, printed in “Beneath the Mask” #8 (which I haven’t found my print copy of yet, but the interview was reproduced on our old POTO fan site). 

Also of note about Ethan: at the time he was one of the two youngest actors to have played the Phantom - he and Anthony Warlow were both 28 or 29 when first cast in the role.

Are there any differences between London and Vienna - if so, what are they? The general tone of the production in Vienna was slightly more Operetta-like, probably due to the language, the sound of the translation and style of acting of some of the players. The tempo was also at some points quite different depending on who was conducting, and would undoubtedly feel strange to me now. The audience tended to be less tuned in to the humorous moments in the show in general, and some scenes like "Managers I & II" for example, simply run better and are more clever in English.

How did you get the role? I got the role of the Phantom after auditioning for Hal Prince and Gillian Lynne and the Viennese producer and musical staff. They appeared very excited about the audition. I'd sung "Music of the Night" which they praised in a friendly manner (Hal is always positive and encouraging), and they sent me off to learn the segment from the Final Lair "Order your fine horses... This is the choice. This is the point of no return!" When I came back the next day to do it (the Phantom candidates appeared by then to have been reduced to three) Hal said "OK Ethan I want you to scare me!" So I did the section with as much power and venom as I could muster (Id never seen the show - I think Id heard the record once or twice...) and after it was done, Hal just said "Great. You scared me!" and that was that really. Later that day they explained to Alexander Goebel and me what they would like and would we be willing to share, obviously with Alex, who was very well known, being the dominant of the two. So we split 5/2 which frequently ended up being 4/3 as the run went along.

How did you research the character? I read the novel finally, all the way through. Ruth Hale, my partner in "Cats" at the time, later to premiere as Mme Giry in the Hamburg production, gave me a copy as a present. I'd seen several of the films over the years so I knew there wasn't much to be mined from those - although Lon Chaney Snr did display some magnificent body language, and I've nicked at least one dramatic gesture from him. Principally though, I had several long meetings with Hal in New York to talk about the role and show. He instructed me to go watch Michael a few times then come back and talk some more. Crawford was magnificent, at the peak of his vocal power and still fairly fresh in the role and I was moved and impressed as I have not been since by a Phantom. (Though Dave Willetts, I must say, also made a huge impression the first time I saw him, for his power and well-delineated psychotic behaviour.) At first I thought boy, you've got your work cut out for you on all fronts. So, I would say my "research" of the role was principally based on my own discussions with Hal and also largely on my own thoughts and feelings. Obviously most of the physical manifestations of the role, make-up, costume, blocking, etc were predetermined so there wasn't much scope for change. To be honest, I feel some of the Phantoms I've seen tend, in an effort to be different, to stray from the basic line of the drama and weaken themselves as a result. Michael's acting was extreme, yet very clear and economical at the same time, and I also try to offer the audience a complicated and ambiguous character going through clear, unambiguous moments of his life - otherwise it's so easy for the audience not to "get" everything that's there - or to "get" things that aren't intended to be there at all.

How do you feel on stage? So varied in thought and feeling that I can't really give a concise answer. I feel quite differently now to how I felt 600 odd shows ago. I used to have to concentrate on staying concentrated - now it just happens. I know what to achieve and just try to let it happen. I'd say I'm both in and out of Erik at the same time and he in me.

Do you think it's based on a true story ie. did the Phantom exist? I doubt it - I haven't read this newer novel "Phantom" yet and don't intend to until I finish playing the part. However I've been to the Palais Garnier and in all senses of the word it is a 'phantastic' theatre, one which easily conjures up many stirring images - beautifully represented in the Phantom designs, I'd say!

What do you think of Erik? I wish he'd let me have a little more time to myself! Oh, I don't know. He's a sad, bitter, brilliant man. He has a great brain and can be a real bastard. I find him easy to understand - he's motivated by a terrible profound loneliness and has been forced to create his own universe which has its own laws. Anyone who has known some kind of loneliness or feeling of apartness when they were children or growing up can tune in to this crucial aspect of the Man, which is his great mythical attraction. He is so powerful, awesome, in control and yet so hurt and vulnerable. He must epitomise great beauty and great ugliness at war with each other, reason and insanity, God/Satan, Id/Ego battling it out. In the end, he learns about sacrifice, shows mercy and is redeemed by love - a great, archetypal Romantic drama - another reason why the story has always been so popular. I can't stand it when I see Erik played as a "nutter". Yes, he goes "crazy" a few times, but in general he is not insane in the pathological sense. I feel if he is played as a schizophrenic or a psychopath, the romantic ideal of the story is dashed, because both of those conditions would indicate a "determination" that makes any hope of redemption impossible, and would break with the "Romantic" style. He is very melancholy, angry, egocentric, neurotic perhaps, and goes off into rages of frustrated sexuality, but he is not insane. And I'll kill anyone who thinks otherwise!

What do you think happens to him at the end? That's our little secret! I think the different fan magazines have probably spent pages on that so I don't see I need to contribute. He goes!

Why do you think the show is so appealing? Some lovely songs, great orchestrations, a nice mixture of melodrama and light comedy, some stunning sets and a lot of good theatrical magic: and on the thematic side, many of the things I've mentioned before, which I suppose you could define as the archetypal Beauty and the Beast scenario which, if honestly portrayed, can tug the heartstrings of even the most urbane Japanese businessman.

What is your favourite role of those you've played? Obviously Phantom is the supreme role in my repertoire to date. I did however, really enjoy my stints in other Lloyd Webber shows as well. Che in "Evita" was very cool to play and Gus/Growltiger, while exceedingly 'uncool' thanks to the heavy knitted costumes, was a joy to play, despite being totally knackering, and one that I was surely born to do. I really enjoyed doing Hajj, the Poet in "Kismet" with the BBC Radio 2 last year, working with the composers, and would love to have the chance to do that again on stage someday.

What role would you like to play? I'd quite hope to have a go at Sweeney Todd somewhere down the line and would still like to play the Celebrant in "Bernstein's Mass" at some point. (I've nearly done that a couple of times.) Add to that a heap of great operatic roles I'd love to do but probably never will and whatever new, unknown roles lie lurking up ahead. We'll wait and see!

End note from me - Ethan’s wrong about schizophrenia, but hey, this interview was 25 years ago and actors can’t be expected to be experts on mental illness. But I really love this interview, the depth he goes into, and how his sense of humour comes through too.

[broadstbroskis]

present tense | matthew tkachuk

back on my childhood friends to (enemies to) lovers bullshit here! have a nice 5k matty fic that was not the fic i set out to write and is far better for it! one flashback-ish area set in italics! enjoy!

-----

There’s a picture that sits on the desks in both of your dad’s offices-in the Blues training facility and over at Enterprise Arena-that everytime you look at you can’t help but scoff in disgust. Sometimes you even flip the picture down, if it stirs up particularly loathsome feels at that moment in time. But each time you end up back in his office, the picture’s back standing, in its usual place front and center on his desk. 

You can’t figure out why. Sure, you’re by far his favorite kid (suck it, Josh and Seth), but for him to keep a picture that’s close to fifteen years old on his desk that features you just cheesing it up with a guy you can’t even stand anymore is a little ridiculous.

“Just because you don’t like Matthew anymore doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t,” Your dad tells you bluntly, anytime you try to mention that fact to him, which you definitely should have known better. He and Keith had only become better friends since Keith’s transition to his front office role. 

“I still don’t understand what went wrong with you two.” Your mom huffs. It’s the biggest tragedy of her and Chantal Tkachuk’s lives, the day that you and Matthew were no longer best friends and neither of them ever miss a chance to lament that fact. “Best friends one day and then not the next. What could possibly have happened that can’t be fixed?”

“Can’t fix asshole!” You respond cheerily. 

“YN!” Your mom snaps. 

“What?” You shrug. “It’s self-proclaimed!” She gives you a look and even though you are 22 years old, you know what thin ice looks like, so you merely smile back at her.

And there’s the other thing. For all that you can barely stand to be in the same room as your former best friend, the rest of your family loves him. Your dad and Seth will golf with Matt and Keith once a week now that it’s summer and he’s back in town. Josh invited both Matt and Brady to his fucking bachelor party this summer. The entire family will be at his wedding!

You literally couldn’t escape the guy. Your summer had barely just begun; it was only a few days after graduation, and already the pressure was on to keep applying for jobs or decide to go on for a Masters. Josh’s wedding was fast approaching and Nicole had the entire bridal party running all around St. Louis in preparation.

The last thing you wanted was to have to deal with Matty.

-----

From the minute you and Matthew Tkachuk were thrown together it’d been instant connection. You can’t recall the exact moment you’d met; you can, however, remember running through the halls of hockey games, trying to keep up with your older brothers at barbeques as Brady tried to keep up with the two of you, sharing secrets under blankets, and making promises to each other in the dark that you were too scared to make in the light.

Until you were sixteen, you’d both kept those promises, each and every one of them. The smallest things, like promising to bring two snacks to an after school event, to the biggest things, like always being there for each other. 

You were Matty’s biggest cheerleader growing up, quite literally sometimes, showing up to his hockey games in your cheer uniform after a practice or competition. And even though it was clear from early on that Matty was destined for great things, he never made you feel like he’d be leaving you behind, celebrating all your accomplishments the same way you’d celebrated his (far more incredible) ones.

But the distance apart during his first year away at the NTDP changed something. You no longer had Matty to rely on to have your back unconditionally. He was up in Ann Arbor, crushing his dreams, and you were so happy for him, really, but that left you at home and for the first time, realizing what Matty’s dreams would really mean for your friendship long term. You threw yourself into cheer, into your other friends. When his responses to your texts took longer and longer to come, you realized that you were doing the same thing- what’s the rush to get back to someone who’s only going to take three days to respond to you?

And then summer rolled around and Matty came back and acted like nothing was different. He’d swept you up into his arms and twirled you around, proclaiming how much he missed you, while your families looked on and laughed, especially at how you’d whined at him for messing you your hair.

“You didn’t miss me?” He’d pouted, poking you until you’d admitted that you did, of course you did, and that brought the grin you knew and loved.

From that moment on, for the rest of summer, the two of you were inseparable. It’s like every minute you couldn’t spend together was a wasted one. For all the time that went between texts when he was away, your phone was blowing up now that he was back, unable to stop talking those scarce moments when you were apart. 

It became expected, amongst both your friends, that if you invited one of you somewhere, the other was showing up as well. You were blowing off after-practice Starbucks runs for Matty to pick you up and get lunch. You’d found out later that he was moving workouts and basketball games with some buddies so they’d coincide with your practice times. Very quickly, you’d fallen back into old habits, but no one called you out on it, accepting both of you easily, and merging friend groups fairly seamlessly.

As the summer went on, the looming date of Matty leaving again started to hang over your head as the-thing-that-just-wasn’t-mentioned...but that didn’t mean it was ever far from your thoughts. It would pop in at the worst times- when the two of you were grabbing coffee and driving around, when you were lying by the pool for the afternoon, when you were bickering about what movie to watch that night.

You’d just wanted to forget for one night, that he’d be leaving you in just a week, and Paul Morgan’s house party seemed like the place to do it. There was cheap booze flowing, shitty beer in your cup, and it was easy enough to keep the smile on your face surrounded by your friends. 

But you couldn’t shake Matty, the entire night, who was right on top of you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders first, and then playing with your hair, and then his palm splayed against your back. How were you supposed to forget that he was leaving you in seven short days when his thumb was brushing over your hip bone? 

You’d shoved him away, offering some excuse about the bathroom, but going instead to hide in one of the rooms upstairs. The tears had started almost as soon as the door shut, your body shaking as you’d sat down on the bed. Was this going to be the new normal? Days without speaking, only the most vague responses when you did, barely knowing each other for most of the year, only for Matt to come home and cling to you for three months of the year? 

That it was Matty who’d come to find you was entirely unsurprising, opening the door more gently than he did almost anything, but then rushing to your side once he saw your face and pressing to know what was wrong. 

The combination of alcohol and nostalgia had gotten you. “I can’t do this every year, Matty. I can’t pretend everything is the same when you come home, when you’re away and we’re like total strangers.”

“So let’s not be.”

You’d laughed, pretty hollowly. “And how are we supposed to do-” But before you’d even finished, he’d kissed you. 

There are things you remember so clearly from that night, your first time. The way Matty had looked at you anytime he pulled back from kissing you; the way he’d laced his fingers into yours as he’d entered you so carefully, like he was terrified of hurting you; how tenderly he kissed you each time he pressed his lips to yours. The fuzzier moments are some of the words he’d whispered to you both during and after, the things that sometimes return to you in a dream- how beautiful you were, how perfect this was, how much he adored you. 

That he loved you, that he always would, that he only wanted you for forever.

Usually in your dreams, that was when you woke up. But at least you didn’t have to see him kissing another girl that way.

-----

Bridal showers were one of the worst things you could possibly think of, but you’d give anything to be at one of those stupid traditional showers where all the women sit in circle for hours and the old ladies cry over what great gifts all this stupid shit is, if it meant you didn’t have to see Matthew.

But no, Josh and Nicole had to go “non-traditional” and throw a co-ed shower. “We’ve already got a house.” You’d heard Nicole explain to yet another older relative, the same thing she’d said to the rest of the bridal party (granted, sounding much less like she’s tired of saying it) when she’d first tossed the idea out. “We don’t need a bunch of stuff we already have. We just want to get a bunch of our family and friends together.” And for you all to stock our bar, was the second part of the joke, and the theme of the party.

Nicole hadn’t looked stressed about this day- which was supposed to be a casual get-together at your parents with family and close friends-until the comments had started to rain. You can see the eye twitch start to go in your future sister-in-law and as she’s explaining the concept to another aunt of hers, you slip in next to her with another glass of champagne. “Can I steal you please?”

“Of course!” She beams, excusing herself from that group. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just don’t want you to murder anyone before you marry my brother this summer!”

She laughs. “Thank you. For the record, the same goes.”

“Me? What have I done today? Seth is the one who opened that $600 bottle of wine accidentally!”

She gives you a look. “I saw the Tkachuk’s walk in, including Matt. Be nice.”

“I will if he is.” You say childishly, sipping on your own glass of champagne.

It’s just your luck, though, that I saw the Tkachuk’s walk in means here they come now. In classic Tkachuk fashion, Keith and all three kids are shoving each other around, and Chantal is rolling her eyes, right up until the moment they reach you and Nicole, when Keith sends once final shot at Matthew, before regrouping to congratulate her along with his wife.

“Where’s that brother of yours?” Keith wonders, craning his neck. “We’ve got some putting to discuss today.”

“Here we go again.” Taryn mutters, rolling her eyes.

“Hey now!” Matt protests. “Joe and I won that fair and square. We’re just better golfers than you two.”

“Better cheaters, more like.” You mutter into your champagne glass, but it’s just loud enough for everyone to hear and Keith and Taryn laugh even as Nicole and Chantal sigh, like ugh, this already.

“No need to cheat when you’re just this good.” Matty grins back sleazily. It seems to be the smile he reserves specially for you; you’ve never seen him break it out for anyone else.

You plaster the fakest smile on your face. There’s no reason for you to be so hurt by an otherwise innocent comment-after all, despite him professing how much he loved you, you were never actually together-but even now, you can’t help the feeling that hits you when he even mentions the word cheat. “Well you’d know best, wouldn’t you?” You say, managing to feign a cheerful tone to make your fake smile. 

Chantal smiles, not catching the dig you’d intended it to be. “Well it’s nice to see that the two of you are at least capable of putting your differences aside.”

“Yeah, my wedding is looking so much more promising!” Nicole teases.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Even if Matty manages to control himself enough to not start a fight, you’ve still got Seth to worry about.” You nod over at your brother, who’s apparently already given up on glassware, and is carrying around the $600 bottle of wine he’d cracked open earlier in the afternoon.

“Yeah, and even if YN manages not to shit-talk all the other guests, I’m sure Joe and Dad over here will throw something out there as soon as they get a few in them.” Matthew snarks back.

“Well that lasted long.” Keith says pleasantly, like his own son hadn’t just rudely thrown him under the bus.

“We shouldn’t have expected less.” You hear Nicole say, but you’re too busy arguing with Matthew about which one of you is going to be worse at her wedding to respond.

-----

The worst thing to come out of the summer that you and Matt had spent attached at the hip only to end up hating each other is that it had actually made your separate friend groups become friends. So now anytime he was home, it was fairly common for a large group chat to go out to round up the squad for a night out.

Which meant yet another night where you were stuck with Matthew.

Even more annoyingly, when he does show up at the bar, he’s nothing but nice. He immediately waves off cards from everyone, offering to pick up the tab for the night. You’re shocked when he remembers that Mel, your best friend, is going to med school in the fall, and he shows, like, genuine interest in her move to Boston and offers her a few places he remembers from Brady’s short time there or recommendations from friends. 

“You’re being ridiculous.” Mel says, when she drags you out on the dance floor. 

“Says who?” You return petulantly, like you have no idea that she’s talking about the sour face that you’ve been making most of the night.

“Um, all of us.” Mel tells you. “Behind your backs, because we think whatever happened between you and Matt is dumb.”

“You talk about us behind our backs?” You cry, outraged.

“Well if the two of you aren’t going to tell us what happened to our faces, then we had to speculate somewhere!”

And that was never going to fucking happen. You’d never told anyone what had happened between the two of you and as far as you knew, Matthew had never broken the unspoken agreement to never tell anyone, either. You certainly remember the sound the smacking palms had made when Nick had high-fived him for managing to “get something” from Sofia Taylor only a day after you had- “There’s nothing to speculate.” You tell Mel, stopping that train of thought and falling to an old standby. “He’s just an asshole.”

“An asshole who’s buying all our drinks tonight?”

“Yes.” You state stubbornly, and knowing she’s not going to win this one with you, she drops the subject and just starts dancing, shouting along to some of the throwbacks you both know and love.

When she leaves you to grab another drink, her spot is quickly replaced by another body, and you loop your arm around the neck of the guy that takes her place, grinning as his hands start on your hips and gradually begin to slip lower on your back as you press yourself closer to him. 

It doesn’t last long because almost the second his hands get to the point where it might even be considered getting close to your ass, he’s pulled away from you. “Get moving.” Matthew says, even as you glare at him furiously. 

Whether he knows who Matthew is or just doesn’t think he could take him if it came down to it, the guy you were dancing with starts shoving his way through the crowd, even after you call for him to wait. When that doesn’t work you round on Matt. “What was that, you asshole?”

“Wait, you liked him touching you?”

“I didn’t mind!”

He actually laughs. “That guy?”

You give him a dirty look, pushing your way through the crowd, in the direction you’d seen that guy go, but it’s a lost cause. No matter which way you look, you can’t see him.

The only thing you can see is the curly head of hair that’s followed you. “That can’t be who you want.” He tells you, as you’re starting to give up, stuck on the outskirts of the bar now.

“You don’t actually get a say in that.” You cry back at him, a little hysterical. “Maybe you could have, one day. But you fucked that up.” He actually does a double take at that, stepping away from you. “So no, you don’t anymore.”

“YN,” He reaches out for you.

“I’m calling an Uber and going home.” You shove his hand away. You can’t even be near him anymore. “And since you can be nice enough to buy drinks, I can say thanks. But that’s it. Don’t pretend like you did me some big favor tonight. You ruined my life once and now you’ve ruined my night.”

And that’s it. You shove past him before he can say anything else to you. 

But he doesn’t come after you. For once, you might actually have left him completely speechless.

-----

On the same weekend that you, Nicole, and the other girls jet off to Austin for her bachelorette party, Josh and his bachelor party take off for Vegas. 

“As long as he doesn’t come home having gambled our house away.” Is the only thing Nicole says, when one of her cousins asks if she’s at all concerned about the Vegas crew. Privately, you think her nonchalant attitude has more to do with the amount of champagne she’s already consumed, but you can’t deny that she’s right. 

“Low bar there.” The maid of honor laughs.

Nicole shrugs as you laugh. “She’s just hoping that Matt doesn’t pull a Hangover on him.”

“You know, name recognition is probably going to be what makes Matty the one who stops the others from pulling a Hangover on Josh.” Nicole muses.

You give her a look. “You couldn’t just give me this one thing?”

She laughs. “After a couple more shots, I’ll give you anything, babe.”

You’ll cheers to that.

Hours later, you’re still cheers-ing-to Nicole, to Josh, to anything ridiculous that anyone of you can think of, each time someone buys you all a round of shots at the bar. You’re pleasantly buzzed, buzzed enough that the letters are too blurry to read clearly when your phone rings, so you just swipe to accept the call and make your way outside, where it’s a little quieter. “Hello?”

“That’s not how it happened at all!” You hear Matthew say loudly. You can’t tell where he’s at, but the background music sounds muffled, like it is behind you, and he sounds as drunk as you feel.

“What?” You can’t keep up with him. Had you missed something? You almost pull your phone away from your ear to check the group chat, to see if you’d been drunk texting in it and forgotten already, but his voice stops you.

“I didn’t ruin your life; you ruined mine!”

If you weren’t leaning against the wall, your legs would have collapsed out from under you. As it is you slide a good foot down the bricks and the flowy tank you’ve got on isn’t doing much to help avoid the scratches that are sure to run down your low back tomorrow. “What?” You can only repeat.

But it seems like Matt’s been building up steam for this. “After everything we’d been through, after everything I said to you, you could just walk away like that?”

“I’m sure Sofia fucking Taylor could give you a great reason why I just walked away like that.” You snap back, finally understanding and ending the call immediately. You’re raging. You can’t believe he’d even attempt to call you out like this.

Even a few deep breaths doesn’t calm you down. When you make your way back into the bar, a few of the girls have concerned looks on their faces, but you wave them off. “I’ll be fine. Just need to drink more. That’s what we’re all here for, right?”

“RIGHT!” Nicole shouts in your face, already beaming.

Maybe if you keep drinking to her level, you’ll be able to forget this whole conversation even happened.

-----

When drinking doesn’t work to forget that phone call, you just start going out of your way to avoid Matty completely. When you see him at family events, you just ignore him entirely. You start pulling back from the big group chat with your friends, only committing to events once he’s fully committed to not going.

Mel calls you out on it, telling you that you’re just being childish and that you can’t avoid him forever, but your family commends you for finally taking the high road, even if they still think the whole thing is dumb in the first place. 

And it’s easy to look like it’s you taking the high road, because Matthew’s trying desperately to talk to you. You’ve got nothing to say though. It’s like the years of rage have finally cooled. Like if you can’t forget the phone call where he says you ruined his life, then you can finally move past the part where he actually did ruin yours.

The day of your brother’s wedding dawns, hectic as you’d expected, and you spend your morning alternating between doing anything Nicole asks and getting ready yourself. You feel like a princess when you slip into the long, blush dress, but it’s nothing compared to how Nicole looks, and you were far from a crier, but seeing her in her dress was only the first time you teared up that day, and it was far from the last.

By the time the ceremony ended, it’d happened three more times and you made a few jokes about it with some cousins and Seth before you figured you could excuse yourself for a few minutes in the garden outside to get some fresh air before the photographer needed you.

Outside, the weather is perfect, an ideal day for an August wedding. There’s a few places to sit, you remember, from when you’d toured the venue with Nicole once, and you start off for one of them, only to be interrupted.

“Hey!”

You jump around, almost twisting your ankle in your heels, entirely surprised at the voice “Nick! What the fuck are you even doing here now?” You frown, when you see him. He’s dressed in street clothes; he’s not here as a date and it’s too early to crash (which you’d straight up invited some of your friends to do, once it got a little later in the evening and meals had been served).

Nick’s rubbing the back of his neck, looking incredibly awkward and like this is the last place he’d rather be. “I uh, I think I owe you an explanation. Sorry, I couldn’t wait anymore.”

You frown. “For what?”

His hand moves from the back of his neck to his face, but you’re still able to hear as he says, “I was the one who sent Sofia over to him.”

You laugh hollowly. “Fuck off, Nick.”

“YN, Matt only told me the other day that you guys slept together in high school. He was just-god, he was so into you! I swear to god I didn’t know!”

“Fuck off!” You repeat, a little more desperately. 

“I just wanted him to get over you.” Nick says, sounding almost as desperate as you. “He didn’t even want her-she just-it wasn’t-I swear to god if I had known, I never would have-”

“Seriously, Nick, fuck off.” And whether he actually took your words to heart or not, Nick does to turn go, leaving you standing alone in a long dress and ready to cry, once again as he didn’t even want her rings through your head repeatedly.

-----

Once you know that things could have been different between you and Matty, it’s like you can’t look away from him. In two separate rounds of pictures, you get called out by the photographer for not looking, just because you thought you heard his voice.

The reception isn’t much better. As you start greeting different friends and relatives at the cocktail hour, you can’t help but wonder how things could have been. Would Matty have been by your side through all of this instead of over by the bar joking with Brady and Seth? He’d certainly be sitting next to you at dinner. Would he be throwing a couple side chirps into Seth’s best man toast or would he have managed to keep his mouth shut? 

After dinner, when the real party begins, you nudge Seth and gesture at the bar for a shot, breathing a sigh of relief when he enthusiastically agrees, and you round up Josh, Nicole, and a couple of your cousins to meet him at the bar, only to find that he’s rounded up your dad, Keith, Brady, Matthew- the person you’d been hoping to start drinking to forget again. 

Matty doesn’t look away from you and as his eyes follow your every movement- the passing of glasses, lifting the glass up to your mouth, licking the last drop off your lip-you feel the flush grow across your cheeks that’s got little to do with how much you’ve already had to drink. 

“Another!” Josh calls.

“If you’re too fucking drunk tonight,” Nicole warns, leaning against him.

“We just got fucking married!” He beams, capturing her lips in a kiss that has you leading a cheer and then all of you cycling through the motions of another round of shots, all while a pair of blue eyes don’t leave you.

When Seth starts making his third toast of the night, about how happy he is for Josh and Nicole, you seize your opportunity to sneak out for some fresh air, slipping out the doors right behind you.

“Fucking finally.” You hear Matthew behind you and quickly lift the bottom of your dress to be able to run, only for him to stop you dead in your tracks. “YN, god, just-”

He stops abruptly and you let the bottom of your dress fall as you turn to face him. “What, Matty?” You ask him helplessly.

“Don’t...go.” He finishes, rather lamely, compared to anything you’ve heard him say ever.

“We are at my brother’s wedding!” You cry back to him, gesturing around you wildly. You’re not that far into the garden that you can’t still hear the sound of Love on Top from where you’re standing now. “Where am I going to go?”

Your response is enough for Matty to collect himself. “Since the day I told you I loved you, all you’ve done is run from me and we are finally, finally on the same page about why, and you’re going to do it again?”

Desperate for a second to breathe, you gesture around you again. “Is this really the place?”

Matty nods. “I’m not walking away from you again so that can be it. I don’t want to spend another six years thinking you walked away from me, when it turns out you didn’t want to at all.”

“Of course I didn’t, but I didn’t want to be just another girl!”

“You’ve never been just another girl.”

“Well, I just learned that a few hours ago,” You tell him dryly. “From Nick. But it really didn’t feel like that when the day after you told me I was your everything, you were making out with another girl.”

“We weren’t-” Matty starts, but cuts himself off at the dirty look you send him and instead steps closer and grabs your hand, completely ignoring your flinch. “Why didn’t you just say something to me? Anything? God, it would-” He shakes his head, and the unspoken it would have made things so much easier goes unsaid.

“Why didn’t you say something to me?” You counter.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second!”

“YN!” It’s like he’s trying not to laugh, but it only works at lightening the mood between the two of you for a moment, before you’re sighing.

“What would I have said?” You ask, kind of ruefully. “Things were weird after you went away and you were about to go away again and I should have what? Begged you to love me and not any of the other girls that might be right there in Michigan with you, let alone the one I thought you’d already chosen over me?” You shrug. “It wasn’t-it wasn’t exactly peak confidence levels right then.” Matty winces at that and you nod at him. “ Alright, your turn.”

“I guess…” He trails off. “I was mostly worried that you had just changed your mind. And that you were trying to let me down easy.” The laugh that escapes after that is so bitter that it’s your turn to wince. “And then by the time I got home again, it was pretty clear that you weren’t letting me down easy at all.”

“I haven’t changed my mind at all.” You look him straight in the eyes, meeting the blue you’ve missed so desperately, determined not to look away for anything this time. 

“Haven’t.” Matthew repeats, squeezing your hand, and as the smile starts to bloom across his face, you feel a matching one grow across yours. “As in, present tense?”

You nod, but you barely get the chance to before his other hand is coming up to the base of your skull and pulling you in for a kiss. Christ, if you thought sex with him was good at 16, expectations have changed, because this kiss alone takes your breath away, makes your knees weak, and has you gripping onto him just to stay standing. “Matty, please tell me you’re going to do that again.” You manage to breathe out, mostly against his lips, which is as far away from him that you think you’re ever going to be able to be.

“I’m never going to stop doing that.” Matthew says, and it sounds like all the promises you’d made to each other as children under blanket forts, but it feels like your past, your present, and your future have combined as he presses his lips to yours in another breathtaking kiss. 

[stansrichie]

how do you sleep when you lie to me?

summary: reddie soulmate au where when you write on your skin, it’ll show up on your soulmates skin as well so eddie started wearing long sleeves… until one day, he doesn’t.

read it on ao3 here! :]

pairing: richie and eddie

words: 3.3k

warnings: eddie is big dumb, mild angst, mainly pining/fluff, college au, soulmate au, they’re like 19

a/n: i haven’t written in a while so PLEASE bear with me i tried- i also didn’t prooread this yet so ignore typos its 5am :[

Eddie had just drifted to sleep when he felt a faint tingle on his arm; his soulmate writing something.

Sitting up in bed, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and turned his head to look at the clock on his desk. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he mutters frustratedly to himself, flopping back down on his bed and curling further into his comforter, trying to be as quiet as he can since Stan was sleeping less than 5 feet away from him in their shared college dorm. “Why the hell is he up at 4 a.m. when we have class in the morning?”

Eddie had always been a light sleeper, so it was at times like this when he was awoken at the ass-crack of dawn, watching silently as Richie wrote on his arm, waiting and hoping for a response; a response Eddie was, quite frankly, too afraid to give him.

It had only been a few days after he turned 18, the age where you can finally start seeing and writing messages on your skin to your soulmate, that Eddie figured out Richie was his soulmate.

It was their senior year of high school and they were sitting in English class, zoning out while as the teacher continued rambling about some summer reading project they were supposed to have done, when Eddie felt it. He was wearing a sweatshirt, so he lifted the sleeve a little, watching as his soulmate started doodling what looked like an intricate rose.

He smiled as he watched for a few minutes, thinking the flower was beautiful, and moved to tap Richie on the arm to show him the design but paused as soon as he started. His breath hitched as he looked over his shoulder and saw Richie drawing a rose on his arm. The exact same rose that was currently being drawn on Eddie’s.

Up until that point, Eddie had never written a message back to his soulmate, afraid of saying something stupid, and after figuring out it was Richie, he knew he could never write anything back at all. At least not until he figured out what the hell he could say to him because, in reality, what was he supposed to say to his best friend that has shown no romantic interest in him before? ‘Hey, Richie, it’s me, Eddie. I know you’ve said a thousand times that being around me makes you nauseous because I constantly smell like my mom’s cheap perfume, but maybe that’s karma because we’re kinda soulmates. Life comes at you fast, huh?” Absolutely not.

Not only could Eddie not convince himself to tell Richie, but neither could the rest of the Losers. Not Bill, who sat Eddie down and held an impromptu intervention with Mike after Richie had come to them a hundred times, crying about how his soulmate probably hates him already since they never respond to him. Not Stan, who nearly decked him in the face for running away when he was given the perfect opportunity to fess up when Richie asked him why he had drawn the exact same smiley face he had on his hand. And not Beverly or Ben, who cornered and sat him down just last week after his last lecture of the day, telling him it had been almost a year since he found out and had yet to talk to Richie.

Now here he was, lying in bed at 4 in the morning, curling tightly into his comforter as he tried to ignore the guilt he felt in the pit of his stomach and watching Richie write what was probably the fourth message he had gotten today.

I’m sorry if I’ve been annoying you for the past year. Part of me hopes I’ve been writing on the wrong arm this whole time and you’re just not right-handed, but I know that isn’t really it. Just please say something, anything, so I at least know you’re out there and I’ll stop. I promise.

More than half of his forearm had been covered. He could only read over the message once, feeling tears well up in his eyes before shoving his arm back under his blanket and shutting his eyes as tightly as he could. He hated that he was hurting him, but he was scared. He was so scared. Scared that Richie would hate him by now. Scared that Richie didn’t return the same feelings for him that he’s had since freshman year. Scared that this will ruin their friendship if Richie doesn’t. He’s so scared.

“Eddie, it’s the middle of September. It’s like 600 degrees outside. Why the fuck are you wearing a jacket?” Richie asks, furrowing his eyes brows and staring at the smaller boy in front of him, his head slightly tilted as he waited for an answer.

After locking the door to his and Stan’s dorm, Eddie pushes past Richie, nearly knocking the boy over, and throws his backpack over his shoulder as he leads them down the hall and out of the building. This is what they always did. Richie woke up early, got dressed, walked to Eddie’s room, and waited for him outside so they could walk to class together. That’s what best friends do, right? “Because I’m cold, Richie, why else would I wear a jacket, dumbass?” he retorted, tugging the jacket tighter over his body. Ever since Eddie started wearing long sleeves around him, Richie asked the same thing all the time, and got the same response every time. Only this time, it really did feel like it was about 600 degrees outside, and Eddie could already feel his forehead start to get damp as they walked, yet he had no intentions of removing the jacket.

“Whatever, weird ass. I feel like I’m fucking melting out here, and you’re still dressing like there’s a blizzard barreling down on us. Are you okay?” Richie asked, his previously sarcastic tone of voice turning to one of genuine concern, catching Eddie completely off-guard with how fast he switched up.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay. Just been feeling weird. I’m fine, though,” Eddie tumbled over his words, keeping his eyes on his feet as they walked. “I didn’t get to ask you earlier, but how was the trip?” he asked, peering up to meet the same pair of concerned eyes he had been avoiding the entire walk. Over the weekend, Richie was forced to go to some art museum two hours away with his class for an exhibit, and instead of making it a day trip, they left Saturday morning and didn’t return until Sunday afternoon.

Richie knew good and well that Eddie wasn’t as okay as he was telling him, but they were best friends. He told Eddie everything and Eddie told him everything too. If he wanted him to know, he would tell him. Why would this be any different? “It was alright. Kind of boring, but it was required. I know it was only one weekend, but I missed you,” Richie replied nonchalantly, shoving his hands in his pockets. It wasn’t until a few moments later that he realized what he’d said, and frantically tried to backtrack and save himself. “You guys. I-i missed you guys. You know… it was weird not hanging out with you all. Like... all of you. Not just one,” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the nape of his neck, and Eddie noticed a faint red tint had taken to his cheeks that couldn’t have been from the heat.

“Yeah…y-yeah. I got it,” Eddie stuttered back, feeling like the combined heat the jacket and the heat from his own cheeks were about to suffocate him. “I bet it was. Didn’t have anyone to fuck around with and call ‘itty bitty Ewok” the whole time you were there.”

This pulled a loud laugh from Richie, who completely stopped in his tracks to grab his chest dramatically at the nickname he had coined for Eddie. “Come on, Eds, if anything you missed me calling you that,” he replied in-between chuckles, wiping a single tear from his eye.

“Fuck you, Richie, you already know I’m insecure about my height and Ewoks are actually pretty badass. They could kick your ass in a heartbeat just like I ca-” Eddie stops himself, sighing and shaking his head as Richie had only been probed to laugh harder. “Fuck you,” he spat, squinting his eyes at the other boy before speed walking ahead. However, he didn’t get very far before he felt himself being tugged backwards into a hard chest.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I was just kidding, I promise,” Richie grinned down at him, though Eddie wasn’t paying much attention to what he was saying. What he was paying attention to, though, was the hand on his waist that was pressing him firmly against Richie’s body, only separated by his backpack. “Forgive me?” Richie whispered, leaning right down to Eddie’s ear and making him shudder a bit at the feeling of his breath fanning his skin.

“Whatever,” Eddie breathed out, shoving Richie away and fixing his bag on his shoulder, continuing to walk ahead as he heard Richie continuing to chuckle behind him.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, getting closer and closer to their classroom building before they finally arrived. It wasn’t until Eddie pulled the door open and held it for Richie that he spoke again.

“Is that something your soulmate wrote?” Richie asked, pointing to the marks peeking out from Eddie’s jacket that had slightly risen up on his arm as they walked inside.

At the question, Eddie’s eyes widened, and he immediately pulled the fabric of his sleeve down, averting his eyes from his best friend. “Yeah… yeah, it’s nothing important. Just a doodle or something,” he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders and silently praying that Richie would accept his answer and change the subject.

“Must be nice. I don’t know what I did to my soulmate or--or if I even fucking have one at this point, but I can never get a response. I’m starting to think that maybe I should just…give up? I mean it’s almost been a year now and all I’ve gotten is radio silence. I can’t keep begging for nothing, you know?” Richie asks, looking over at Eddie with dark, heavy eyes as he finished. His shoulders were slumped in defeat and his head hung a little lower as he walked.

“Yeah. I-I’m sorry, Richie. You don’t deserve that… you really don’t,” Eddie replied, fidgeting nervously with backpack straps and quickly glancing at Richie before focusing back on the ground and walking into the classroom.

He hadn’t been lying. After a while, the messages on Eddie’s arm started coming in slower and slower before stopping altogether.

There were times when he thought Richie had started trying again, feeling the familiar tingle on his arm, only to look down and see a grocery list or a homework reminder.

By now, it had been nearly two months and there hadn’t been a single message from Richie for him to read. Richie had also become a little quieter when they all hung out. Acting a little out of character for his usual self, and the entire group noticed. They also knew Eddie was the one that could fix it, and they’d threatened him at least 3 times this week to tell Richie before they did. To say he felt guilty was an understatement. He didn’t think it would come to Richie completely giving up he just¾he just needed more time, was all. More time to come up with something to say to him.

Eddie was just about to sit down and start on his homework when he felt it again. Writing on his arm.

Study group for comp sci in library @ 6

He stared at the note on his arm for a few minutes before looking at the time on his laptop. It was 3:45 now, so he only had a little bit of time to decide if he would show up or not. This was the first time Richie had written a complete sentence, whether it was for him or not, let alone with something as specific as his afternoon plans. It would be the perfect time to reveal himself to Richie, but he couldn’t help but doubt himself. “Jesus fuck, I’m gonna need a Xanax after this,” he muttered to himself hiding his face in his hands and exhaling loudly.

It was currently 7:30pm and Eddie was standing outside of the library entrance, looking like an absolute idiot. He had gotten to the library over 30 minutes ago, but every time he made the move to walk inside, he walked right back out.

He peered through the glass doors of the library entrance and saw Richie packing up his bags at a table in the back corner of the bottom floor and waving goodbye to a few other students. Panic started to rise in him because it was literally now or never, and he didn’t even use his time standing around outside, let alone the entire year he’s kept this secret, to think of what the hell he’s supposed to say when he walks up to him.

His body starts moving before his mind can get it to stop, and he suddenly finds himself pushing through the front doors and walking right up to Richie, who was seconds away from leaving.

“Hey, Richie,” Eddie called as he neared the table, internally cringing at how awkward and nervous he sounded. Richie looked up from shoving his last book into his backpack, his eyes widening in surprise and his mouth opening to say something before Eddie cut him off. “H-how did your study group go?”

“How did you know I had a study group? I never mentioned it to…” Richie trailed off mid-sentence as he took in Eddie’s appearance. He was shifting nervously from one foot to the other. A faint blush was set on his cheeks, tinting them a pretty pink color over his freckles, and he was completely avoiding Richie’s eyes. Other than that, there was nothing significantly different about Eddie that caught him off guard; that is, until he noticed Eddie’s shirt. For once, he wasn’t wearing anything long-sleeved, and Richie noticed a few familiar scribbles on Eddie’s arm from afar.

Stepping away from the table, Richie started moving closer to the other boy and Eddie felt like he couldn’t breathe. He stood completely still, frozen in place, as Richie stopped right in front of him and took his arm in his hand, holding it up so he could read what was written.

“Study group for comp sci in library at 6,” Richie read out loud quietly before looking up and meeting Eddie’s eyes, causing Eddie to meet his gaze for the first time. They were both silent for no more than 3 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Eddie was still barely breathing, waiting for Richie to react, and Richie was looking at the message on Eddie’s arm again that was identical to his as if everything was hitting him at once.

Eddie had just looked away from Richie’s face when he spoke up again.

“Why?” he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of hurt and desperation. “W-why would you …hide this from me for so long, Eddie?”

When Eddie looked up, he realized just how upset Richie really was. His eyes had already begun to water, and he knew he was completely overwhelmed with the situation. He felt terrible once again; not that he didn’t deserve to. “Richie, I-”

“Do you realize how hard I tried? Eddie, I didn’t even know if there was someone out there or not. I-I waited so long hoping to get a response, and you--you were there the entire time? You knew the entire time?” Richie cut him off, looking like he had been completely defeated.

“I-I’m sorry. I just- I didn’t know how you would react. You’ve never shown any real interest in me and I didn’t want to ruin anything I-I was just scared of… of losing you,” he replied, feeling his own tears start to slip down his cheeks. “I know I’m the fucking worst and I had so much time to say something but I couldn’t-”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Eddie? Like are you bullshitting me right now? This entire time, you haven’t stopped to think even once that I might have feelings for you? That I might have been in love with you since we were prepubescent 13 year-olds in high school? Not once?” Richie continued, shooting questions at Eddie every chance he could. “Not when I asked you to prom senior year, even if I did try to play it off as a friend thing? Not when I kissed you that one time when we went to the drive-in? Or not even now when I wake up early every morning to walk you to class, even when I don’t have the same classes? Not once?”

Eddie was speechless. Absolutely speechless for at least 2 minutes before his mind finally started working again after that confession. “I really am sorry, Rich, I know I should’ve said something a long ass time ago I was being stupid… I had no idea you felt that way, but I-I feel the same,” he replied nervously, peering up at Richie through his eyelashes, his bottom lip between his teeth. “And to be fair, you told me the kiss was accidental and that you only did it because you were trying to wipe butter off of my lip and slipped-”

But he’s cut off when he feels a pair of lips against his, and he barely has time to react before Richie’s pulling him closer against his chest and deepening the kiss. Eddie feels like his entire body is fire, and even though they’re kissing in the middle of the library, it feels like they’re the only people in the room, as cheesy as that sounds. It was a fairly chaste kiss, but it was desperate and needy, something they’ve both wanted for years, and they were both breathless when they pulled apart.

Eddie’s lips were red and a bit plumper, and when Richie’s eyes flickered down to them and noticed, he couldn’t help but pull Eddie in for another quick kiss.

“That one wasn’t an accident,” Richie finally spoke after a few moments of them trying to catch their breath, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re such an idiot,” Eddie chuckled breathlessly. He felt like a thousand weights had been lifted off his shoulders. His insides felt like jelly, like he couldn’t believe that had just happened, but it felt good. He felt good.

“Yeah? Says the one that kept being my soulmate away from me for an entire fucking year,” Richie countered, squeezing Eddie’s hip and making his breath hitch.

“Not an entire year just…close,” Eddie murmured under his breath, hiding his face in Richie’s neck.

“Too long,” Richie replied, his voice slightly muffled as he pressed his lips against the side of Eddie’s face.

“M’sorry,” Eddie responded, which he’d probably said a thousand times tonight. But he meant it. He meant it every single time.

“I know. I’m just glad you’re here now,” Richie sighed in content. Of course, they’d talk more about the situation later, but for now he was just happy he had found out who his soulmate was. Even better, it was Eddie.

Eddie knew it too. Knew he’d have a lot more explaining to do, and a lot more apologizing to do, but for now he wanted to stay just like this for a little while longer because he wasn’t afraid anymore. He didn’t have to be; he never had to be, and he wished he could’ve convinced himself of that earlier because being in Richie’s arms felt like the safest place he’d ever been in his life.

[mistwraiths]

2 stars

Apologies for the blurry picture but I couldn't seem to find a good one. The Crown of Gilded Bones is the third book in the From Blood and Ash series. I want everyone to know I'll be putting on my clown makeup after I post this review because despite rating the first two books low and having issues with them, I somehow deluded myself into thinking this one might be better! It wasn't and dare I say it I think this was the worst one by far.

I'm genuinely trying to find something good about this book ot at least something I really enjoyed. I do like that the books pick up right where the last book ends up. The first few chapters are pretty exciting. Around page 600, the last few chapters are fast paced and things are happening. Other than that, I can't really think of anything I really liked about the book.

Crown of Gilded Bones majorly suffers, like its predecessors, in the same four ways. Being too long, repetition, world information and building, and nothing important to the central story or plot happening for huge chunks of pages.

I firmly believe that all the books were half their length and the story beats were quicker coming and longer, it would be far more enjoyable. Instead you're forced to slog through inner monologues that don't add anything new, Poppy getting dressed by Casteel, showers, and other mundane parts. I thought knowing that it would be slow would help me enjoy the book but nope. The whole deciding to go to the realm of the gods literally doesn't happen until nearly the end of 500 pages in.

The worst part about the book being far too long and nothing happening is that when something does happen, it gets rehashed several times to the point where I, as a reader, am exhausted about reading about talking about it. I'm a big lover of communication. I love it when characters who are working together or are together tell each other important information and trust each other, but this is different. Once something happens, it gets talked about it detail for a handful of chapters, usually lasting longer than the actual event itself, and then is brought up again to go over, and then again. It's frustrating because I just want to move on but the story is so determined to go over everything again.

That's not the only instances of repetition. I know authors tend to reuse certain words over again. SJM and her "croon" and "toes curl" and "barked/roared". I can forgive stuff. I can look over Jennifer's constant use of dimples. The honeydew part is the most disgusting. I don't care what flavor Poppy's vagina is. There's a difference when it comes to the same thing happening with the near similar responses/situations being used over and over again as an attempt in humor but it falls flat after its been used several times. I'm talking about the "I have a question" "No one is surprised by that" parts and the Poppy being prone to violence makes Casteel horny and Poppy has to be like you're disturbing. If it showed up once or twice after the initial one, I could get over it. But it's reused every so many chapters. If it's an attempt at humor, it is a poor one.

This book is number three in a series and this book is still chock-full of world building and world information. I could possibly forgive it since I suppose at the start Jennifer didn't plan for a big fantasy series, but it's too much. There's so much information being crammed at you and it's in a very obvious way. Poppy asks and Kiernan or Casteel answers. That's pretty much the only way Poppy and the reader learns anything. At this point, I feel like I need a glossary and timeline because there is so much information.

In fact, despite nothing happening, l don't know how it still feels that there is a lot going on. There's the Solis problem. There's the Poppy should be queen problem. There's the people have concerns of Poppy being queen. There's the Unseen problem. Another Dark One problem? Poppy's lineage/past mystery. Something about waking up the Consort? And a little bit more. It's a lot.

In the second book, I liked Poppy (sort of), Casteel, and Kiernan. However, I find myself not liking any of them that much. From personality to saying similar things, they all feel very much the same character. There's not much difference in personalities or dialogue. About the only difference is that Kiernan is cool, Poppy is compassionate when it suits the narrative, and Casteel is protective. Other than that, there's not much of a difference between any of them.

Poppy is pretty much the same as always. Massively overpowered and incredibly special, doesn't know anything about her world that she lives in, and somehow despite being so special and powerful, she's kidnapped and hurt and then levels up again. We are forcefully spoon-fed how Poppy is so strong, so beautiful, so intelligent and clever. I haven't found one instance that I've been wow that was smart. Poppy's powers she inherently knows how to use perfectly the moment she gets them.

There's also almost no female interactions or female friendships with Poppy. Tawny was barely there in the first one but when she surprisingly shows up here, she's immediately rendered injured and unconscious. We're told Vonetta and Poppy are friends, but there's been almost no interactions. Vonetta gave her clothes once and then delivered a message later. Is that a basis for friendship? Vonetta eventually falls in a hole and Poppy saves her. That's about it. Ileana and Eloana are both older motherly types but also significant worrisome individuals for Poppy internally. Again, there's like one conversation each with them individually. Lyra is introduced to us by giving Kiernan a blow job but no interactions. Hisa and Nova are soldiers but no interactions. It's even mentioned that female draken are rare, but I'd argue that female characters are exceptionally rare. It's ridiculous. It's like there isn't any female that's allowed to have a moment of spotlight or competency other than Poppy. Poppy also has a moment of nastiness that's out of character when she threatens a woman who admitted to her that she had no interest in Casteel and Casteel had said the same and he wasn't interested in her, and she threatens to rip her limb from limb. It's so sudden and startlingly and leaves a terrible taste in my mouth.

As for Casteel, I no longer like him nor do I think he's a good guy. I think he's capable of good, being good, doing good but there's too many times where he's been vocal about killing anyone and burning his own kingdom down if Poppy doesn't get her own freedom of choice or what she want and what not. It's played out as the most truest love but to me, that's like a villain kind of love. If someone I loved burned down a city because I didn't get to choose what I wanted, I'd call the police. The craziest thing I had to read is people believing that Casteel would make a good king when he legitimately states that Poppy's needs comes before his own kingdom's needs. And if hers are met, the kingdom's could be met. That's not how any of that works!

He also does something incredibly reckless. I get it, he couldn't live without Poppy so he chooses to Ascend her. I can wrap my head around it. The fact of the matter is that Casteel refuses to take the blame or even entertain the consequences that could have resulted in that and how reckless it was. Poppy even refuses to allow the conversation. They are both like: I am not a vampry. Nothing bad happened so let's move on. It's astounding. Not only that but I felt it extremely odd that Poppy would have been okay with Casteel making her into a vampry, something incredibly dangerous and something she hates and would never want to be. It's just oh okay well luckily I didn't turn into one. And that's... it? It would have made good tension but no. Instead, they're just in love so much we have to listen to Casteel tell her how strong and beautiful she is every twenty pages.

I was excited to learn more about Kiernan but I still couldn't tell you much about him. Best friends with Casteel, a wolven, and he's always like "no one is surprised by Poppy having question". That's about all I know of him. Those are all things I knew about him in the second book.

Some other things I had issues with is that the villains are eager to spill everything about their plans. I feel like I'm watching a cartoon show with their villain monologues going on and on. Everyone except for Poppy is knowledgeable about everything!! People are constantly apologizing for things they have no control of. Characters somehow know exactly what to say to Poppy all the time like mind reading. I'm annoyed that the gods realm and the draken were such short parts.

When the reveals and the action which took 600 pages to get to happened, I really couldn't find myself caring. Reading felt like a chore. I'm not worried about any of the characters. I don't know if I'm interested anymore in reading this series because it feels like work trying to read it. I'm here for enjoyment and I'm not having a good time.

[retro-rezz-the-est]

Brat Tamer (Roman Reigns/Reader smut)

Summary: The reader’s not a wrestler, but she’s being intentionally bratty bc Ro doesn’t come back home to her. Ro decides to take things in his own hands when she takes her brattiness and her teasing too far.

Word Count: 6,510

Warnings: voyeurism, a small tiny large ass bit of possession/possessive behavior, Roman being an absolute beast who I want to wreck me into oblivion, mutual masturbation and I believe that’s it??? Forgive me if I’m wrong.

(A/N: This was supposed to be for reaching 600 followers, but I’m re-purposing it so it’s now @writing-reigns’s birthday gift! To my lovely talented amazing fantastic beautiful sassy big sister: thank you. You’re an absolute delight to be close to and I hope you know how much I love you. Happy birthday, darling!)

(A/N #2: Bracket texts are Roman’s btw lol)

You never did like it when he was away for so long.

In fact, you hated it.

You knew this was a part of his job: the leaving for long periods of time, the sparse days that he spent with you when he was home with you, the repeated sadness of seeing him leave. But, you knew that he loved you and you loved him, so you supported him anyway.

It would always be months before you saw him again, all smiling and warm with him in your arms. Video calls and late night chats on the phone weren’t enough for you. You needed him here and at home with you.

You longed for his touch, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin at night when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him. But now, his side of the bed was empty, and his babygirl would curl herself around his pillows to imitate the feeling of him against her.

You missed the way his hair would flop forward into his face and his constant struggle with trying to push it away, you laughing every single time because it was just too damn cute. Just thinking about all the little things he did just brought a smile to your face.

But, you also missed the more…sensual parts of your relationship.

He would always do things to you that none of your previous lovers ever did, and just thinking of them sent excited shivers down your spine. You missed the way his hands felt on your skin, pulling at your hair and tugging at your nipples as he too you with wild abandon and left you satisfied for hours.

You missed the feeling of his mouth on yours and his body pressed against you as he made love to you and made you cum more times than you could ever count on one hand. You missed the way he'd wrap a hand around your throat and hold you down on the bed as he pounded you from behind, banging the headboard against your bedroom wall as he called you his good slut over and over again.

He always had a way of making you feel like the most pampered princess in the world and the most dirty, naughty brat to ever exist and that was just perfect. You missed the sting of the marks from his hands on your ass whenever you misbehaved; doing it to yourself just never felt right at all.

You pined for his hands groping your slick breasts as he took you against the wall in your shower right after he got home from a long day at the gym, and you craved the feeling of him burying his tongue in your pussy whenever he woke up early on weekends.

All in all, you just…fuck, you needed him.

Which is why it hurt so much when he rang you up that night right as you were about to leave.

“Wait, what?! What do you mean you can’t come home yet?!”

“I mean, I can’t come home because I’m still on the road, babygirl,” Roman told you again, him sounding frustrated over the phone. You could hear the rumble of the bus he was on in the background, and the sound of the other Superstars chatting away right after.

“Ro, I’ve been planning this dinner for weeks! You said we’d go out when you got back, and that was supposed to be today!”

He was supposed to come home that Saturday afternoon, with his princess welcoming him at the door as he finally got back from the European leg of the company’s tour. It would’ve been your birthday the day he shou;d’ve been back and when you told him, he had promised to take you out for a nice dinner and left it to you to plan out the details.

You both were supposed to have fun, celebrate him coming back from the latest leg of the tour and you surviving another year on this planet, and come back to your apartment to reconnect after months of being away from each other.

It was supposed to be perfect.

But it wasn’t and he wasn’t here, and you were left without your man, fully dressed in the skin tight red sleeveless number he always loved, hair and makeup done with your heels on only to be left alone at your door.

“You can’t just cancel on tonight because of your stupid fucking job!”

You kicked off your heels and stormed into the living room, throwing your purse on the kitchen counter and stomping over to the couch. You glared out into nothing, hoping that he could feel the weight of your stare through the phone. “I literally got all dressed up for you to just ghost on me!”

“You watch your tone with me, babygirl,” Roman warned, venom seething from his mouth. “I’m sorry that I can’t just hop off this fucking bus, grab my bags and stow away on a plane for you and get there in five minutes! You said you supported me going away when we started dating, so support me.”

You’re full-on yelling at this point, red in the face and close to tearing his eyes out when he actually gets back. “How can I support you if you do shit like this to me?! You fucking promised-”

“Stop!” he shouted, shutting you up immediately. He never used his dom voice outside of the bedroom before and frankly, it scared you but you weren’t going to let down your front that easily. “Don’t fucking tell me what I promised, babygirl. I said I was sorry and Daddy will make it up to you when he gets back, as long as you stop being a fucking brat about all of this.”

“What-me? Being a fucking brat?! Excuse me, Roman, but I am completely justified in-”

“Babygirl, look,” he sighed, the deepness in his voice fading slowly. “I swear to you that I’ll make this up to you, okay?”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes. Whether they were out of pure anger or sadness, you couldn’t tell. “B-But Daddy-”

“No buts, princess. I’ll see you when I get home. We’re about to reach the hotel, and I’m really fucking tired. This conversation is over.”

And with that, he hung up, the dial tone beeping in your ear before you turnt your phone off.

You managed to call the restaurant and cancel your reservation, take off your dress and your makeup and remove your jewelry without throwing your phone across the hall or punching a hole through your bedroom door. Slipping on one of Ro’s old merch tees, you climbed into bed and sniffled, crushing his pillow against your chest and sighing angrily. You contemplated between tearing your hair out before you went to bed that night or just screaming into the pillow. So, you chose the latter.

“How dare he?!” you yelled. “Fucking hypocrite saying that he doesn’t break his promises, and yet goes and breaks one himself! And he called me a brat for being angry? The audacity!”

All he had to do was give you a warning beforehand, a message or anything but nothing! Nothing from him because he put so much attention on his fucking work that he never even thought about you at all!

You flopped onto your back and kicked the blankets away, grumbling and staring into the dark void that was your ceiling for what seemed like hours until an idea popped into your head. You grinned deviously as you began to weave the idea into a full-fledged plan and you rubbed your hands together maniacally.

If he wants a brat, fine. I’ll give him a brat. Let’s see how much good that does him in the long run.

Game on, Daddy, you thought as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, a grin slowly making its way across your lips.

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was in the hotel gym with a few of the other Smackdown Superstars when you had texted him that morning. Setting down the weights he was lifting, he paused his music and wiped the sweat from his brow. Just seeing your name light up his phone made him smile a little, even if he did insight the argument the two of you had a few days ago.

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

morning Daddy 😚😚

                                                             [Gmorning princess. How've you been?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

just missing u, that's all 🥺

                               [You know I'll be home in a few days. We've been over this]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i know, but i can't help it. i miss having u here to take care of me 😢💙. ur babygirl's pussy is so wet rn & she needs her Daddy to come take care of her 🥺

   [I'll take care of you and all your needs when I get back, just how you like it ;)]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

you better, or i may have to do it all by myself 😏😏😏

Roman looked down at his phone with wide eyes, sensing that you had something up your sleeve.

                                                              [Babygirl, what are you planning to do?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

nothinggggg 👀😏

                                                                             [Don't lie to me now, princess]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

okay fine, you're no fun >:P. i'm rubbing my clit thru my panties rn. they're

the ones u got for me for my birthday, and they're *soooo* soaked rn 💦💦

i'm all wet and aching and needy bc i miss u, Daddy 🥺

He could feel his eyes getting darker by the second and quickly got up, saying his goodbyes to everyone in the gym before grabbing his gym bag and speed walking through the door. He made his way to the elevator and felt his phone vibrate again, cursing to himself as the doors opened and he leaned against the back wall.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

fuuck Daddy it feels so good but it doesn't feel the same

i miss your big fingers, Daddy. mine are too small and yours make me

feel the best 😻

                                        [Princess, did I tell you that you could touch yourself?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

...no???

                          [Take your fingers away, princess. I didn’t give you permission]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

...no

                                                                                             [What did you say?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i said no 😈😊

fuck, my pussy is so wet for you, Ro. i’m sliding my fingers thru my folds and they’re so wet for you 😩

i have to text with one hand bc lefty’s busy with my slick hole rn

                                                        [You better stop teasing me like this or else]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

or else what? you’ll punish me? i already have two fingers in me, about to be three

She’s really testing me today, isn’t she? Roman thought as the elevator doors dinged and opened on his floor. He quickly walked to his room, placing the keycard in the door and swinging it open. Throwing his gym bag somewhere near his suitcase, he walked outside onto the balcony and swiped a hand over his face, imagining you in one of his merch tees with your legs spread and your folds wet and swollen for him.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i can’t hit my spot like you do, Daddy. you always finger-fuck me so good

fuck, i feel like i’m gonna cum already from this 😩💦

                                                                                              [Babygirl, I said no]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

too late, Daddy. i’m pushing in my third finger ;3

it feels so damn good Daddy. i can’t wait until you get back anymore

His eyes got dark and clouded over with lust as he felt his cock grow in his gym shorts. Fuck, what is she doing to me?

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i’m rubbing my clit with my thumb now. dragging my nail across it too

i’m picturing it as your teeth bc you love to use them when you go down on me 🥺

                                              [I said to fucking stop already. Listen to me, (Y/n)]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

Hmmmm….how about…no 😋

i’m about to cum Ro. gonna squirt all over my fingers for you 💦

Is she really going to…? No, she wouldn’t disobey me like that, would she?

                               [(Y/n), you better not or else you’ll regret it when I get back]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

shit, i’m cumming Daddy fuuuuck

His mind is immediately bombarded with the vision of you soaking your bed, your juices flowing from you and staining your sheets. He heads back inside, closing the balcony door before throwing his phone on the bed and sitting down himself.

                                                                 [You done having your fun, princess?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

mmhm ^^

i came so hard for you, Ro. you wanna see?

He gets a picture right after, opening it to see your inner thighs glistening with your juices, your hand forming a peace sign as your digits are coated with your cum. Growling deeply, he closes his texts and moves to call you, the phone seeming to ring endlessly in his hand before going straight to voicemail.

“Hello person calling my phone, you’ve unfortunately reached the phone of (Y/n). Someone must’ve pranked you or something, because this is obviously the wrong number. But, if you meant to call this number, I’m clearly busy with something important so if you need me, leave a messa-”

Roman hung up quickly, throwing the device next to him and sighing, flopping onto the sheets and staring at the ceiling defeatedly. The concentrated throbbing of the hard-on in his gym shorts made him angry. You were testing him, teasing him, and he was buying into it big time. The phone buzzed next to him suddenly, making him grab at it and lean his head up.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

gotta go, Daddy. i’m gonna go take a nap. byeeee 😚💗

                                                                     [You’re really gonna do this to me?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

yep ^^. Talk to you soon 😘

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For almost a full week now, he’s had to deal with the torture you put him through, showing up to press talks and photoshoots and working out non-stop with a constant hard-on from the things you’ve been sending him. For a full week, the sexts became an almost daily thing as you recounted all of the things you were doing to yourself behind his back: touching yourself constantly in the bed you shared, grinding against his pillows and taking selfies with only his shirts on, sending him pictures of you in your newest dresses.

The “home movies” you sent him were equally as troubling, showing him exactly how well off you were without him there to take care of you and please you by teasing him with the various vibrators and dildos that you had in your chest.

You even had the nerve to call him during a meeting with Stephanie and tell him that you were wearing the vibrating panties he bought you last year for your birthday while you were out with friends, causing him to shoot up in his chair and try to hide his erection.

And for a full week, he’s been pent up with sexual energy, counting down the days and waiting for when he can finally come home to you and punish you for what you’ve been doing to him.

But, they’ve also been dragging on for what seemed like an eternity. So when he pulled up to the arena that Friday night, Roman was more than a little pissed off. You tagged him in a selfie you took on Instagram of you in a fitted black and turquoise lace bodysuit with a black lace collar, posting that you “had a surprise waiting for a special when they finally gets back to you”.

He felt a hot streak of possessiveness run clean through his system when he shut off his phone, and his fingers twitched with the need to let everyone know that you were his as he read through the comments. But he persisted, gripping the steering wheel of his rental tightly before getting out with a plan in mind. Grabbing his bag from the trunk, he pushed the doors open and walked inside with a grimace on his face as he tried to maneuver around the various stage crew and other wrestlers that littered the hallways. 

Roman was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t seem to acknowledge bumping into one Mustafa Ali and walking straight through the man. He fell back with a yell, rubbing his shoulder as the Samoan continued on his way with his suitcase rolling behind him.

Rising to his feet, Mustafa brushed himself off before chasing after the other man, cupping his hands over his mouth to yell over the countless voices around him. “Hey, Roman! Hold up, man!”

Oh fuck, he groaned internally as Ali pulled up beside him, a smile on his face as he tried to match Roman’s pace. “So, how you been, buddy? It’s been a minute since we last talked, huh?”

Roman grunted, brows furrowed as he ignored him. His phone buzzed in his pocket again - most likely another message from you - and his mind immediately went back to you, thinking about how delicious you looked in that bodysuit.

She’s gonna fuckin’ get it when I get to the locker room, he thought, his hold on the bag’s handle tightening as Mustafa continued to try and speak with him.

“Ok, not much of a talker today. That’s fine. I just wanted to discuss our strategy for our match tonight. You know, for our tag match against Ziggler and Corbin? I was thinking that maybe you come out first and give ‘em the verbal one-two hit before I come out since they don’t know I’m your partner yet, but we could change that if-”

“It’s fine the way it is,” Roman replied, moving some stray hairs from his face before making a left towards the locker room and finding the one with his name on it. Before opening the door, he turned around to see the smaller man looking back at him holding his thumbs up and smiling.

He entered the locker room and shut the door, his mood somewhat lightening as he rolled his bag into the corner. Shoving his hand into his jeans pocket, he pulled out his phone and opened the newest message from you.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

(photo attached)

bought another one for you, Ro 💜💜

Roman walked over to the bench and sat down, taking his hair out of the messy bun he put it in earlier with his free hand and sighing as he felt the crotch of his jeans grow tight. There you  were, spread out on the couch on your back wearing a lavender keyhole lace teddy with one of your legs bent towards the camera. You were smiling back into it and biting your lip, which made him groan and tug his hair a little as he ran his hand through it.

                                            [You’re really milking this teasing thing, aren’t you?]

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

Why yes I am. This is why you don’t lie to me, Daddy

                                                         [Oh, you’re gonna fucking get it later, (Y/n)]

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

Can’t wait for it ^3^

He smirked deviously when he read that, loving how coy and innocent you sounded but knowing how wet you became just from him sending that. He did secretly love this game you were playing with him, riling him up with texts and pictures and videos, but as your Daddy he had to put you in your place. You had to know who was really in charge.

Standing and shoving his phone back into his pocket, he walked back to the door to unlocked it, only to hear the sound of someone suddenly knocking on the other side. He opened it to find a stagehand standing in front of him with a clipboard.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Reigns?” she started, tapping her fingers nervously on the board, “I know this is kinda sudden and we only have, like, an hour and a half until the show starts, but the big man and some of the other guys upstairs switched around some of the matches on the card for tonight’s show.”

“And? What does that have to do with me?”

“Your tag match was one of the ones moved and, well….it was moved to the beginning of the night. Like, right after Baron’s segment. So, you’ve got to start getting geared up since some of the people in the film crew wanna start shooting some of your pre-show promos in a bit.”

She then turned on her heel and scampered away, reaching in her back pocket for a pen and clicking it to scribble something down.

He sighed, closing the door as he looked up at the clock on the wall and noticed that he only had a few minutes before someone else came knocking. Roman walked over to his suitcase and turned it over on its side to open it as he sighed.

Guess I’ll deal with you later, babygirl.

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crowd was roaring in his ears and he was loving all that energy, soaking it up like a sponge as he knew you were tuning in to watch him fight. He loved knowing that you could see the Big Dog in his natural habitat, watching him kick the crap out of anyone he was put in front of and feeling the apex of your thighs tingle from how turned on you were becoming.

Adrenaline pulsed through his veins throughout the entirety of the match, from when he slapped the taste out of Corbin’s mouth before Mustafa made his presence known to when he finally pinned Ziggler after hitting him with a third Spear during the nearly 15 minute long tag match.

Seeing “King” Corbin pull his new lackey from the ring and scamper to the back while holding him by his arms brought a quick smile to his face as he yelled “You can’t handle all this!” and the ref raised their arms in victory.

“I’ll see you around, okay? You were awesome out there!”

“You too, Ali,” Roman said smiling, panting slightly as the duo made their way through the curtain. Promising to check in on him some time later on, the two pounded fists and shared a brief hug before Ali began limping to the back with one of the medical personnel in tow, leaving Roman by himself.

“Now,” he told himself, smile dropping and eyes narrowing as he tore his way through the halls to get to his locker room, “time to take care of business.”

He immediately locked the door when he got inside, ripping his tactical vest off and throwing it into one of the open lockers before going over to his bag and unplugging his phone from the wall next to it.

His chest was shiny with sweat underneath the fluorescents, so he grabbed a towel that one of the stagehands left on the bench inside to wipe himself down. Drying off his hair with one hand, he used the other to unlock his phone and video call you, with you instantly picking up after only two rings.

“Hi, baby! You were so great out there during your match tonight! That was probably one of your best this ye-”

Your voice died down when you saw the look he was giving you: eyes holding yours in a steely gaze, neck vein starting to pop out a bit and a clear glint of mischief running across his entire face, but he disguised it all with a smirk. It sent shivers down your spine to know that secretly, you were the one to do this to him, to get him like this.

“How’s Daddy’s favorite little tease doing?”

“A tease? Me?” you feigned shock, mouth dropping open as you placed your hand on your chest. “Why would I ever have the gall to tease you in any way? I’m a good girl, remember?”

Roman’s face deadpanned and you had to stifle a giggle from bursting. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, (Y/n). You’re not slick, and your Daddy isn’t a dumbass.”

His eyes flowed down to your chest, and how you were starting to angle the phone to show him more of what you were wearing. He chuckled at your latest attempt to get him riled up but unluckily for you, he was filled to the brim with pent-up energy and was all too ready to take it out on you.

You pursed your lips and blew a kiss to him as you crossed your legs on the bed. What seemed like miles of red mesh ran up your legs to your upper thighs and was held up by a frilly garter belt, leading his eyes up your body as the other two pieces of the red lace lingerie set hid all of your goods from his heated gaze.

“You like it? I bought this little number a while back and I was gonna send you a pic of it as a congratulations gift but since you called me, I figured now was as good of a time as any! So, what do you think?”

He could feel the crotch of his ring pants grow tight as you giggled again and stuck your tongue out, dropping the towel next to him as he ran his hand over the newly formed bulge. “I think,” he started, moving towards the bench and sitting down, “that it’d look much better on the bedroom floor. Speaking of which, take it off.”

“Huh?”

“The bra. As much as I love how it frames your perfect breasts, I want it off. Now.”

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you placed your own phone on your bedside table and angled it against the lamp that stood there before reluctantly reaching around and unsnapping the lacy piece, sighing as the room’s cool air made your nipples perk up. You tossed the discarded garment in the direction of your closet, smiling faintly and awaiting further instruction.

“Now, since you wanted to tease me for over a week with those fucking texts, those videos, those tags on Instagram, now I’m gonna do the same damn thing to you. And this time, you’re gonna fucking take it.”

Oh shit was the only thought that ran through your head as you gulped and felt your fingers twitch.

“So, what I want you to do is take out that cute little toy chest you have under your bed-”

“How do you know about that?!”

“-and take out the dildo you got molded for me. You know the one I’m talkin’ about, right?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you muttered under your breath as you stood up, wondering how in the fuck he found out about it and turning around to bend over suggestively and give your man a show. You could hear the jingling of his belt clasp and heard him suck in a breath, smirking to yourself as you pulled out the black box from underneath your bed frame.

For Roman, he loved the view that he was given, loving how the lace and the garter belt framed your ass as you reached into the box to pull out the silicone toy and show it to him. It was shaped and colored to look exactly like his own cock but before he could say anything, you climbed back onto the bed and sat cross-legged with it in your lap. He could see a slight flush dusting your cheeks and he laughed darkly.

You could see him fully now, his arm with his phone in his hand partially outstretched while his other hand held his half-hard cock as he coaxed himself to full hardness. Looking down at the dildo resting on your legs, a shudder went through your body. Although your new toy will never compare to the original, you’re gonna make damn sure that your money is well spent.

He watched as you let out a shaky breath, moving to lay down on our back at the head of the bed and picking up the dildo. You raised it to your lips and suctioned your lips around the head, getting it nice and wet for him before trailing it down your neck and circling it around your breasts and nipples until they were shiny with your spit.

With wide eyes, you looked back into the camera and asked, “What do you want me to do now, Daddy?”

“Cut the innocent crap, babygirl,” he sneered, making you moan softly. “Trail that thing down your stomach and run it over those pretty panties you bought.”

You answer him with a “Yes, Daddy” before doing as he told you, dragging the dildo down over your stomach and circling your belly button with it before running the head over your pelvis and throwing your head back with a moan.

It felt good running it over your skin like that, almost as good as if Roman was actually there with you and teasing you himself, but you’d never say that to him outright. Raising your hips to meet it, you slid the toy’s shaft in-between your legs and ran it over the thin strip of fabric that kept it away from your lower lips. You could already feel how wet you were becoming, seeing as after a few seconds of this that the dildo was faintly glistening with your juices when you held it up.

“Babygirl, don’t you fucking stop until I tell you to,” he growled over the line, making you jump out of your own little fantasy world. He was angling his phone downwards towards his hard-on, showing you how he’s already leaking cum onto his fingers as he touched himself at your expense. “Keep rubbing that dildo over that wet little pussy of mine.”

You spent the next few minutes running the toy over yourself, grinding it against your clit and moaning but taking it away when you got too close to cumming as to prolong what you had going on. The arch in your back became more prominent as time went on and as sweat began to bead on your own temple, making every moan made and every breath you took much heavier.

He finally told you to stop, seeing how he could spot your juices staining your inner thighs from where your phone stood on the bedside table. “Pull those soaked panties to the side, (Y/n), and fuck yourself with that toy for me. I want you to be fucking dripping and soak that thing so badly that I can see your cum from my end.”

You can audibly hear him stroking his cock now, his pre-cum making it easier for him to pump and twist his thickness. A smile broke out onto your fae but by the look in his eyes, you knew it wouldn’t last as you pulled the red panties to the side with your free hand and rubbed the head of the toy between your lips before sliding it into you slowly.

A heady groan rang out from within you and your eyes snapped open as you began to fuck yourself with it, pressing the silicone balls against your clit to drive you to climax quicker. Moving back into your own little world, you could feel it moving against your inner walls and running against every spot that made you tick.

You threw your head forward with a moan, both of you watching how perfectly all of it fit within you in one go and how quickly you started thrusting it. You raised your hips to meet it with every pass, sighing whenever it filled you to the brim.

You were so lost within this space, your mind so cloudy with arousal, that you almost didn’t hear him call your name.

“Slower, babygirl. I don’t want you cumming yet. You’re not the only one who wants to drag this out.”

So from that point on, he directed your pace and your every movement, telling you to go slower or faster and leaving you hanging on a damn thread every time. Roman laughed heartily when you huffed and puffed out your cheeks, calling you adorable despite being a teasing brat.

“I’m only giving you what you asked for, so don’t blame me for any of this.”

He made you grind down on it every time the dildo went balls deep, making you cry out when he made you take it out right after and pass the sticky head over your clit. You were balancing on nearly nothing at that point, a heavy sheen of sweat now covering your body and seeping into the mesh tights you were wearing until he finally tossed you a bone.

“Now ride it. Ride that fucking toy like you will once I step through your goddamn door. Ride that dildo until you’re screaming my name and letting everyone on your block know who fucking owns you.”

He says this with a snarl, tightening his grip around his shaft and stroking himself quicker as you rose to your knees and moved a pillows between your thighs to suction the dildo onto it. You sunk down on it immediately, your juices making it much easier for you to slide it in and your walls hugging it closely. You grabbed another pillow and moaned loudly into it as you started bouncing, bits of your hair flying around your face and lightning running through your veins.

Your hands started to move in opposite directions; one drifted towards your breast to pluck and pull at your nipple, and the other fell to your pelvis as you began rubbing at your clit with your fingers. Looking at Roman through the phone didn’t do you any better at all, him showing you how hard and thick and ready he was for you.

His chest and forehead were covered in a thin layer of sweat as he stroked himself to a climax throwing his head back with a moan and tugging at his long hair. You could see thick streaks of white fly from the head and splatter his chest and stomach, making you moan as he lowered his head and looked straight back at you. His eyes were cloudy and lost but still dominant and utterly him which made you close your own eyes to keep yourself from reaching that peak.

But despite that, you could still feel it building up in your abdomen as the dildo hit all of your deepest spots and made you cry out to the heavens. Words could no longer spill from your mouth when you felt that twinge of arousal run directly through you and drive you closer and closer to that edge you were seeking. He was finally going to let you cum after what seemed like hours and hours of teasing…

...which is why it shocked you so much when Roman told you to end it.

“Stop.”

“....wait, what?”

“Babygirl, I said stop. Take the dildo out now.”

Even through your daze, you could hear him clearly. His eyes were nearly black, clouded fully with lust as he gripped the phone with one hand and held his softening cock with the other. Isn’t this what he said he wanted? You were so close, why should you stop now?

So you kept at it, grinding the toy down harder as you moved closer to the phone so he could see. You arched your back and pretended not to hear him, lost in your own little world of pleasure and dipping your hand back to your hard bud to rub at it furiously.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna-”

“(Y/n), I said to fucking stop.”

And stop you did, ceasing all movements and quickly taking your hand away from your clit. The tone he used surprised you as he never really used his dom voice outside of the bedroom, so you knew he was fucking serious.

You moved to grab the phone from its place on the bedside table and whined as you slowly slid off the toy, the crotch of the lace panties a deep marroon as your walls clenched around nothing. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you put the dildo next to you and were sure to get it in frame, all shiny and glistening with your juices.

“Now what, Daddy?”

“Pick it back up and clean it off, baby.”

You did so without hesitation, moaning obscenely as you made a show of picking the toy up and running your tongue along its sides. He let out a low moan as he watched you watch him while you licked your juices off of it, swirling your tongue around the fake head like you would’ve if he was laying right there with you.

He hummed, the deep noise sending shivers down your spine as you placed it next to you and held the phone up before resting your head on the pillows behind you.

“All done,” you said coyly, biting your lower lip again as he ran a hand through his hair on the other side of the screen. Always did love when he did that.

Roman told you to put the toy back in the drawer where you found it and to change - both of which you did, dropping the dildo back into your toy chest and swapping out the soaked red panties for a tank top and silk shorts.

That’s future me’s problem, you thought when you noticed the wet spot staining your sheets, wearily moving around it before slipping under your blanket.

“I miss you, Ro. When are you getting back? Like, actually?” you asked, pouting your lips.

“I’ll be home in a week, babygirl,” he told you, out of breath and nearly falling back into the open lockers behind him. “You better not touch yourself until I get back.”

Your eyes went wide and you scrambled to sit up. “Huh? Why not?”

He ignored your question, moving over to his left to grab the towel that laid on the bench. Wiping off his chest again, he said assertively, “Your Daddy’s giving you a command, (Y/n). Follow it, or else I’m gonna put the belt on you for as long as I want.”

You gulped audibly, holding your tongue as your eyes grew wide. After a few seconds, you let out a soft “Ok” and he nodded in approval.

“That’s my girl. Now, be a good girl for me, and I’ll see you when I get home.”

He didn’t even wait for your reply, hanging up the call and shutting off his phone. Roman threw it back into his bag and sighed as his deep brown eyes wandered to the ceiling and he slumped back against the wall next to it.

She’s gonna end up killing me someday, he figured, wiping his hand down his face, but what a hell of a way to go.

                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[roguestarsailor]

thoughts on a court of mist and fury *spoilers*

***** lots of spoilers folks *****

- MY GIRL FEYRE IS READING!! SHES READING LIKE REGULARLY AND CASUALLY IM SO PROUD

- RHYSAND MY LOVE I TAKE BACK ALL THE BAD THINGS I SAID IN BOOK ONE AND YOU ARE A BABY THAT NEEDS TO BE LOVED AND PROTECTED AND DESERVE PEACE AND QUIET AND MORE LOVE

- tamlin needs therapy like pronto; we dont stan a unsupportive partner and partner who is unwilling to share pain!! CANCEL TAMLIN 2020

- rhys popping up during the wedding scene was *chef’s kiss* and i noticed that he didn’t “claim” her as he said he would for like three months after everything. i suspect he was being a good person and literally letting her live her life. also for loving someone, tamlin was super chill and just kind of let her go??? idk i thought there would be more of a fight??? when feyre was literally like why are your claws retracting man?? fight for me??? hello??? but then again rhys is definitely more powerful than tamlin and probs some unspoken laws and such between high lords i guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ anyways tamlin aint shit

- page 296-298! fucken shook me to my core. that self awareness, that confrontation, she identified the core of everything and it was such a turning point and im just so proud of her!!! She's recognizing her traumas and is healing!!!!!!!!!!

- yeah i immediately ship cassian and nesta; i hope she fucks shit up in the next book  😀 😀 😀 😀  

- maybe az and mor are truly the slowest of slow burns   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

- i pictured pollution from good omens as how Amren is suppose to look like

- rhys is such a strong leader and im just -- baby deserves all the love. He's really good at plotting. He really made feyre learn all these things so they can nurture their love but also be a strategic advantage its interesting that even tho theres love there he still treats her like a weapon

- the joy in his rhys eyes when they winnowed into his regular ass town house that feels super lived in. and his friends banging on the door like he isn’t the feared night court high lord that he is. that was so refreshing to see that hes a regular person and not that high lord man who lives in a near empty mansion. he puts on a mask for everyone but he himself is just a regular fae.  

- reading about the peace that velaris was able to live through was beautiful. i imagined a city like san francisco with the hills and views of the ocean but kind of like the peace found in super small towns or cities in asia; maybe even some european cities (which is prob where this location is inspired by but i haven’t visited many euro cities). the scenes of ppl dining out, making art and music and just chilling is so lovely esp given our current pandemic. art is so treasured there and im like thats the epitome of a great society isn’t it? being able to do things because you just can without the pain of financial insecurity, civil unrest, etc. i definitely would love and die and for a society like that. its just so wonderful. i was filled w happiness while reading those scenes. :)

- rhys and his inner circle taking feyre out into the town and just being casual. nobody treats them like theyre royalty or anything special. theyre just a regular group of friends who enjoy hanging out. its super nice and nostalgia inducing esp during this pandemic when friends are so far away and not like it used to be.

- when rhys immediately saw how under weight and dead freye looked when she was in spring court -- AND IT WAS THE FIRST THING HE SAID TO HER WHEN HE SAW HER THROUGH THE DOOR WHILE TAMLIN DIDNT FUCKEN NOTICE

- i also take back my frustrations in book 1 when freye always wondering around the grounds in spring court esp during calanmai. i thought it was because the author needed to move the story forward but its just freye. she doesnt sit still and now that shes w rhys, we are seeing soooooo many things about prythian and thats beautiful. tamlin was truly a hinderance huh

- rhys sent her music when she was in the cell in Under The Mountain which was found in velaris. maybe he wasnt risking a lot but he just showed her a glimpse of the forbidden world right under aramantha’s nose holy shit he saved her from destruction!

- when rhys had his nightmare and feyre came to comfort him and kissed him on the cheeks and gave him such tenderness made my heart sing~

- rhys is literally opposite of tamlin is soooo many ways. RHYS DID THINGS OUT OF LOVE, WHILE TAMLIN DID THINGS FOR LOVE. everything from how rhys made sure feyre can grow into who she is meant to be, to how he introduces her to his friends and how he interacts w everyone in his court, how he handles pain, everything is so different than tamlin. tamlin feels pain and just bulldoze over things, doesn’t think about how his actions are hurting others even as he is hurting. he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t share, he doesn’t try to get himself or feyre out of this misery and just sees threats everywhere and hits them. he was also supper passive honestly. no doubt hes riddled w guilt and grief but can’t figure out how to handle it so he uses feyre as his crutch where if he can “save” her he will be free smh

- rhys PAYS feyre!! HE GAVE HER FINANCIAL INDEPENDENCE AND RESPECT FOR HER WORK!! THE INDEPENDENCE THAT TAMLIN DIDNT FUCKEN GIVE.

- THOSE NOTES THEY SEND TO EACH OTHER SINCE FREYE CAN READ AND WRITE NOW

- Ianthe was sus from the beginning!! i knew it!! although i did bet she was gonna sleep w tamlin on the side. But she's a lot worst so we don't like her either

- the throne room scene was steamy af this time its fine because there was ~consent~ and also because we see the dynamic and growth between the two and how they work together. this was great although I was kind of like pls get a room tho

- RHYS SMILING!!! FEYRE AND RHYS LAUGHING TOGETHER UGH I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

- THEY ARE MATES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FEYRE AND RHYS FOUND EACH OTHER AND HAD SO MANY SHARED TRAUMAS AND WORKED IT OUT TOGETHER AND GREW TOGETHER AND LEARNED ABOUT EACH OTHERS QUIRKS AND ITS JUST LOVE IN ITS PUREST FORM UGH THAT SCENE WHERE RHYS WAS CRYING AND FEYRE HEATED UP FOOD FOR THE BABY AHH MY HEARTTTTT  MY WHOLE ENTIRE HEARTTTTTT IS BURSTING WITH LOVEEEEEE

- LUCIEN AND ELAINE HOLY FUCK WHAT A LEFT FIELDER i hope this is the push that will propel lucien to defy tamlin. going back to the contrast between how tamlin vs his court and rhys vs his court, rhys has a group of unwavering loyal friends and are treated equally esp letting them joke around so much and it feels like a casual group of friends hanging out. tamlin has just as much loyalty from lucien but theres still a power structure that tamlin maintains. luciens words doesn’t have much weight whereas rhys’s friends do. both tamlin and rhys have so much power and sway and similarity in traumas and tragedy but both execute things completely differently. tamlin only wants to upload what he is familiar with, maybe what he thinks his father wants whereas rhys actively tries to think of something better, to change the system regardless of how hard it is.

- tamlin you dumbass. He didn't learn from amarantha. He again let his pride fuck over a bunch of other ppl. He shat on amarantha and fucked over his court. Now he fucked the rest of prythian and human world by bargaining w the king. Smh goodbye tamlin

- I straight up knew the queens were bad!!! I knew they had to be plotting something. The sixth is "ill" my ass.

- LADY OF THE NIGHT COURT LETS GO FEYRE AND WOOWW WE STAN A MAN BREAKING TRADITIONS AND SUPPORTING EQUALITY

- when hybern was destroying velaris. I WAS GONNA THROW HANDS BRO. I'm glad we saw the extend of how powerful feyre could be and how she was clever and we can really see how she's completely different from before. She has bite and fight in her and it's so refreshing!

- how about we let az and cassian live in peace. Those boys had to deal w the blunt of literally everything. from being the only shield in valeris to poison/hurt wings against the king, just beat up all the time 🥺

- suriel is their version of a wikipedia

--

I read all 600 damn pages in like 2.5 days and I was loving it the entire time! My heart sored when feyre and Rhys were getting close and starting to break down their walls and really connect. This was a truly good enemies to lovers, slow burn tale and the drama is so great. There were good stakes that changes a character and their behavior and a good balance of action and excitement but at the same time so many little moments that let u see the character and how they interact w each other and the world. a lot of big plot moments, slice of life moments, a bit of romance and comedy. overall, an amazing book but super long. thus far this is my favorite book and im hoping the rest of the books can be just as charming and lovely but not too heart breaking. i hope rhys and feyre makes it. i cannot predict what to expect in the other books in the series (isn’t there gonna be 8 books total???) 

[janiedean]

fic writer tag game

tagged by @randomingoftherandomness ty!!!

AO3 name: janie_tangerine

Fandoms: asoiaf/got (currently active regularly), the witcher (sticking to reading/writing fic for now but I’m planning on being somewhat active in that sense), dark tower/iron fist/bastille day/deadwood (not active because there’s no audience at any given time for three of them and with IF I need to be in the mood but like... I can become active in a moment if there’s the need xD), spn/lost/mcu that’s not IF/tvd (probably not going there anymore but it’s been a nice ride and might revisit I MEAN I REVISITED WITH TVD SO), various others I can write for occasionally which are all on the fandoms and ships page

Number of fics: 477 on ao3 but if I crossposted the lost/spn fic I have on lj that I still haven’t managed to import we’d be at 600 at least not counting the stuff I wrote on tumblr that I should crosspost but eh a lot

Fic I spent the most time on: lmao some flowers bloom dead, that’s because I still haven’t finished it

Fic I spent the least time on: anything under 2k was probably written in twenty minutes tops

Longest fic: sticking to ao3, in the darkness on the edge of town (asoiaf, jb, 102k hahahahahahaha)

Shortest fic: in which Robert Baratheon really, really hates pigeons (asoiaf, robert & ned + ned/cat, 568 words)

Most hits: I'll be the frosting to your cupcake, wench (asoiaf, jaimebrienne) which is at 54431 and I’m still in complete awe of it

Most kudos: five people who didn’t believe Ned Stark for one second about Jon’s paternity and one who did (asoiaf, ned + jon + various others) which is at 3437 and I’m honestly flattered that many people found it that funny xD

Most comment threads: and give all the love that you have in your soul (asoiaf, jaimebrienne + jonc/rhaegar & omc) at 216, understandable as it was like eight chapters spread over six months of me agonizing over how much I hate writing timetravel XD

Most bookmarks: more like the man you were meant to be (asoiaf, jb + jaime & cat, jaime & jon, jaime & ned & various others) at 1367 which I’m v. glad about that fic fluff I’m 100% proud of xD.

Total word count:  3806645 (with good peace of everyone who ever told me I was snobbish towards fanfic back in the day xD)

Favourite fic I wrote: I don’t wanna pick favorites because honestly they’re all my children but if I had to pick one it’s in the darkness on the edge of town for various reasons which we can sum up in I wouldn’t change a word of it and that usually doesn’t happen X°D

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: there’s a few I’ve wanted to sequel and I def. need to finish sfbd (one day) but like atm your best bet is that I’m going to add part three to that series I somehow started where geralt likes wearing dresses and more opera singers au xD rewrite... not really because I don’t have the patience for it, if I don’t like something enough to share/I know I can rewrite it I don’t post it xD

Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on:

I haven’t technically written shit these last two days and I should rectify but for sharing ideas... I need to do part four and five of her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you ie the jaimebrienne witcher fusion as in I need to find a way to rework the last wish so I can have yennefer!catelyn in it with some sense and I also want to have pod being the resident child surprise but I can’t have it like in canon for obvious reasons so I’m still plotting, also AGAIN I SHOULD FINISH SFBD AND THE TARG TELENOVELA NOW IF ONLY MY CRACK MUSE CAME BACK FOR GOOD (but for the targ telenovela it’s all on here under its tag lol) and I could do a bit more of the soulmates hearts thing but I should see, anyway since I want to give you a WIP too let me see ah well have part of the next sfbd chapter that has been in the works since nanowrimo 2018 which one day I’ll hopefully finish kdslg have at it

“Lannister,” Robb interrupts, “I think everyone knows. If you want to say he’s your son —”

“Fair, fair. Well, before I left, he wasn’t… relishing his position, so to speak,” he sighs. “Actually, he was downright hating it. Cersei pretty much always ignored his existence but now she can’t, of course, since she thinks she can rule through him, and as much as she never really let me near him if not for the bare necessary…”

���She didn’t?”

“She figured someone might have asked starting questions if I had any relationship with any of them,” he says, and now he sounds bitter, as if he rues having let her. “I — he really has no stakes in this war and he didn’t even want that position.” He takes in a breath. “The lady and I, we might have discussed what to do after this is over.”

“What’s your plan?”

“Going back to her island for a while, take a well-deserved rest, and other things that you really don’t need to get concerned about. But I was wondering, after we’re done in King’s Landing, would you be amenable to send Tommen there if we come with you to the Wall, until we come back?” He’s staring at Robb with tired green eyes that for once don’t seem to be making fun at him or anyone. “I know it would mean —”

“I don’t think it’s undoable,” Robb tells him, if anything because he can hear that he sounds as if his sister didn’t let him have a relationship with Tommen, maybe he wants to, and if he wants to bring him to Tarth where he’s supposed to go following the woman he loves or so it seems, it’s not hard to imagine why he’s asking this. “He’s young and he hasn’t been anything like Joffrey as far as we know, we can just say that if he gives up any claim on the throne he can go with you, as you would be his closest relative willing to house him, and I highly doubt a Targaryen king would want you in his guard. But you were planning to leave it anyway, weren’t you?”

“His Grace is very perceptive,” Lannister says, sounding relieved. “Very well then. I — thank you,” he says, and then he turns on his back and leaves the room as well.

Robb sure as the seven hells had not foreseen this turn of events, but he’s not going to be the person complaining about it.

“If he is thanking you I guess anything might happen at this point,” Theon says after neither of them speaks for a long moment, and Robb has to laugh at that, some. It was funny, after all.

aaand tagging let’s see @lodessa @lordhellebore @vanessawolfie @uniwolfwerecorn @myrxellabaratheon and if you’re a fic writer and wanna do it consider yourself tagged u__u