#and it's not like I am going to release anytime soon but let me thank my crush because she's the reason I finished most of the songs

[talesofunlikelysapphicpairings]

I admire my crush's dedication to her craft. Like, yes, please. Give us what you want. I don't care what it is— I'm sure it's beautiful. My life has literally been in flames lately and I feel like I'm at war with everyone and everything around me. But every time I am reminded of her I do a little dance and a little giggle.

(Also, I don't need her to be here to feel her, you know. I see Warrior Nun, I'm reminded of her. I see my journal, I'm reminded of her. I see the bulk of romantic letters that I wrote for her, I'm reminded of her.)

I like the idea of the potential right now, of the fantasy. It is what keeps me from going insane (or maybe I already am) so let me have it. 😋

There's beauty in falling in love with the possibility. Tragedy, too, but I'm focusing on what makes me feel good right now. Dante Alighieri did it; so, will I.

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Never a Burden Part 2

Neteyam x reader

Pairing: Neteyam x Reader Mate

Warnings: Mentions of injury, mild blood, kinda 18+ at the end.

Previous chapter

****************************************************

You waited for what felt like hours for your mate to return.

As soon as he walked through the entrance you shot up on your feet.

He released a sigh when he saw you and raised his arms out to you.

You immediately ran into his embrace hugging him tightly.

Seconds later you were pulling away to look him up and down. Your breath caught seeing his bleeding knuckles.

“Teyam…”

“It is nothing love, don’t be sad” he pulled you close again releasing a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry Neteyam…” you murmured into his chest.

“Shh don’t apologize.” He kissed your head and pulled you to sit down on his lap by the fire.

“Lemme get some salve for your hand-“ you attempted to stand but he pulled you back down with a click of his tongue.

“Leave it, it’s nothing..”

“…Neteyam… what did you do?” Fear was evident in your voice.

“I showed him what happens when someone messes with my family…” his tone was bitter.

Panic was clear as day on your face but Neteyam was quick to dispel your worries, “Don’t worry he’s not dead, as much as I wanted to kill him, I did not.”

“But he won’t be able to join us on raids anytime soon…” he muttered.

“W-wha, what did you do??”

Made his face look like a bowl of purple berries, Broke his arm for touching you, gave him a much worse bruise on his stomach, shoved him in the river and held his head down a little too long…

“Just roughed him a bit don’t worry..”

“But you just said he wouldn’t be able to-“

He shut you up with an abrupt kiss. It was slow and sweet, that is until he bit you.

“Ow what was that for.” You pouted and pulled back.

“For not telling me the moment someone was bothering you.”

“But Teyam-“

“No buts”. His eyes were stern.

“Since when do we hide things from each other hm?” You looked down feeling shame.

“I…I didn’t want to but I didn’t want to burden you with this Neteyam…” he sighed loudly.

“It’s never a burden, you’re never a burden…” he made sure you were looking in his eyes.

They held nothing but the truth. You weren’t a burden.

“Promise you’ll never hide something like this from me again.”

You nodded, “I promise”.

He kissed you again, “good”.

“How is your wound?” He readjusted you to look at your stomach.

“It’s alright, it looks worse than it is..”

You could read the emotions on his face, bearing himself up that he couldn’t protect you.

“Don’t Neteyam, don’t- I’m alright. I promise. It’s nobody’s fault except them.. and thanks to you I don’t think they’ll be bothering me anytime soon…” you kissed his bruised knuckles.

He smiled warmly but then suddenly furrowed his brows, “Wait they? What do you mean “they””.

You blinked up innocently, “didn’t I mention his friends…?”

Neteyam scoffed in exasperation, “No you did not mention his friends!”

“Ok ok calm down, they didn’t do anything just called me some names, Tu’Mey was the only one who hurt me-Ow Neteyam!” You pouted bringing a hand to your freshly flicked forehead.

“What did you just promise woman!”

“I-It it doesn’t count, I forgot about them, I wasn’t hiding it!”

“You-” you interrupted him this time with a kiss.

He let out the millionth sigh of the night.

“What am I going to do with you hm?” He said fondly.

“You’re the one who chose me Neteyam” you grinned.

“Yeah I did…”

“Do you regret it…?”

“Never” he smirked pulling you in for a much deeper kiss than before.

“I think I know how to keep you out of trouble…”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” You shivered when he nibbled on your ear.

“I’ll wear you out until you can’t move, you can’t cause trouble if you can’t walk..”

Eywa help you..

**************************************************

Short but sweet conclusion! Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading🥰

[andersonfilms]

hey baby, how’re you? so i just watched bound again, and i was thinking.. corky! ellie and violet! reader.. maybe? and ellie bends reader over counter, spanks her a little, straps her down while reader worries of her husband coming in. but ellie fucks her so good, she’s completely cockdrunk.. just maybe..

bound to fuck | ellie williams

tags: eighteen+, daddy kink, cheating, strap sex, slight voyeurism, degrading, kinda toxic!ellie, breeding kink.

an. i am ovulating and i finished a request in a reasonable amount of time! wowowowow. but hi baby! thank you for the request, i feel like i did a shit job, but i hope you enjoy it. anyways, i'm done starving my abby lovers. beefy blonde coming up next — pic credit.

wooden bookshelves, shelves with his favorite reads or at least presenting himself to be a man of literature. each book filed became decoration, pretty covers with a lot going on, but never something he could actually pick up. not quite deemed worth his time. always trapped in the responsibilities of his den but your husband keeps on a loose leash. truly, it’s his mistake. 

he’d been the one to hire her in the first place. a contractor needed to fix a few mishaps in the house and you couldn’t help yourself. no, not one bit. tattoos scattered randomly across her sun-kissed skin as if done on a whim, freckled shoulders exposed in the white tank top she wore. wet,auburn hair lightly styled with gel, a few strands framing full cheeks. from the first look, she became your nightmare. beautiful green eyes disguised in greed. 

it all happened so quickly, the heat of the moment taking a hold over any sense of responsibility. the sparkling diamond held weight but none in your heart, especially as she bent you over the white stone countertop. pants shoved down to your ankles, her cock wedged deep inside you as you stare at the oak door of your husband’s office just past the common room. 

“is this what you want? fucked like some type of whore, huh?” ellie smacks the fat of your ass, digging blunt nails into your unmarked skin. “last time wasn’t quite good enough. yeah, i know, baby. not very fun when you don’t get to come.” slender hips slam into you again as you whimper, touching a particular sensitive spot for you. 

“i’ve been so good, daddy. please, can i cum tonight?” ellie more than surprised with your manners. not even having to remind you of how to speak with her. you give in — granted, she’s already fucking you into another dimension. “i-i, c-can’t, fuck, s’hard to talk.” 

“and why is it sweetheart? can’t keep up?” ellie sends another slap to your ass, claiming the skin with her touch. gripping  your hips, she brings you back over her cock as her hips roll. “s’good for. yeah? always need daddy’s cock inside you. your husband can’t fucking satisfy you even if mine is made of plastic.” maliciously, she chuckles and you feel your cunt pulsate. crying for a release, practically begging. 

“ah—” you try to compose yourself but ellie shows no sign of stopping anytime soon. she pushes too far, sometimes. getting off to your crook husband in the other room, completely unaware his wife is getting fucked by the hired help. “els, stop being so cruel.” 

“hm, why so glum? it’s not like you actually give a fuck. pussy just needs to be filled by me. if you can’t fucking handle it, maybe you should grovel back to his medicore dick.” she leans over you, takes a breath before whispering in your ear. “what’s it gonna be, angel? want me to finish or want to go back to faking it?” 

meanwhile her pace is punishing, bringing you closer to the precipice of completion. slyly slipping her hand between your legs, toying with your clit as you gasp. “sh, baby. tell me what you want. want me to slip out and let him finish you off?” 

“fuck no.” softly, you moan her name. “want your cock, no one else’s.” 

“you sure? not afraid of being caught? could come at any moment.” the double innuendo is lost on you as you feel the familiar build in your stomach. “could spoil it, maybe. watch me as i fuck my pussy. your pussy belongs to me angel. daddy’s good girl, only mine.” 

the noise of your wet slick echoes, you know you’re close. ellie has gotten you there enough to know it too. “c’mon, i’ll do what the old fuck can’t. put a baby inside this pretty belly of yours. make sure you come home with me. forever knocked up and fucking mine.” you cum at her words, body twitching in bright white light. your vision blurred as you slump against the countertop. 

gently, she presses a kiss to the nape of you neck. your body heaving, attempting to catch your breath. “it’s okay, angel. s’good for me, yeah? mhm, s'alright. i got you.” her calloused hands smooth over your soft skin, taking her time to bring you back down to earth. “wanna go again?” 

you nod, glad she can’t see the stupid smile on your face. “better be loud this time. i mean it. you’re coming home with me tonight.” 

[lightsoutletsgo]

love letters; with love from... — cl.16 (part 2/2)

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

word count: >1000

warnings: some brief mentions of angst but nothing to heavy, they're so in love your honor, bad screenshots??

tysm for all the love for part 1! i never expected it to do as well as it did. hopefully you all love part 2 just as much! happy reading! love mimi 🤍

love letters; dear (part 1)

taglist: @arieslost @d3kstar @minkyungseokie @evie-119 @sltwins @maplesyrupsainz @charlesgirl16 @jaydaaasworld @rhythmstars @ravisinghs-wife @itsjustkhaos

You exhaled shakily as your eyes scanned the caption you'd drafted in your notes app. You didn't even tear your eyes away from the screen as Charles slumped down onto the couch next to you. "Everything okay mon amour?" You swallowed and nodded, offering your phone to him so he could read the caption. He was silent for a minute before he turned to look at you, tears in his eyes, "I am so so proud of you." You smiled, feeling yourself getting emotional, sniffling a little as he pulled you into him. You led there with him just enjoying the quiet comfort he provided before he spoke once more, "When are you going to post it?" You giggled and sat up, Charles following suit, "Are you gonna just drop it on instagram with no warning again?" You winked at him before unlocking your phone and typing out the post. Once you'd proofread it you hit 'post', immediately locking your phone and turning your notifications off as they already started pouring in. Charles gaped at you for a moment before scrabbling to find his phone, not struggling to locate it as it buzzed and vibrated constantly with new notifications, "You could have given me time to prepare!"

♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧

y/nsworld

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 25,942,833 y/nsworld here we are, a year later and another surprise for you beautiful people! 'all the things I love to tell you' is out now on streaming platforms everywhere! oh wow, how exciting it is to finally be able to tell you guys about this 🥹 this album is the second half to my healing journey and it's full of love and light and hope for the future. a huge thank you to my company and management for giving me the freedom to release my music in the way I felt I needed to. thank you to my friends for listening to these songs in the car at 3am and crying with me when we realise just how far we've come, for putting up with me stealing their napkins at dinner to write lyrics and for once again holding my hand until I felt ready to take a step on my own. as always, thank you to my incredible fans who inspire me to keep writing and whom without NONE of this would be possible. and finally to my love, charles, thank you for being my muse, my biggest encourager, my musical partner and my rock through the past year. this album is about you, for you and was made with you. thank you for letting me call you the love of my life every day. you're all I need until forever falls apart can't wait to see you all on tour soon! love y/n 🤍

View all 45,730 comments y.nmusic I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN WAIT WHAT? ⤷ ynloverrr ISTG SHE CAN'T KEEP DROPPING ALBUMS ON US LIKE THIS

y/nupdates I'm gonna need someone to dissect everything about this post in a twitter thread 😭

taylorswift I'm so proud of you for this album 💜 can't wait to come and watch you on tour! Comment liked by y/nsworld

sabrinacarpenter I will let you steal my napkins anytime if it means I get songs like pancakes for dinner 😭🫶🏼 Comment liked by y/nsworld

francisca.cgomes I need to breakup with pierre just to experience falling in love with him again with this album Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld babe i love you sm 😭 ⤷ francisca.cgomes baby? i love you more ⤷ pierregasly you're literally MY girlfriend? ⤷ y/nsworld but she's MY wife Comment liked by francisca.cgomes

yncharles oh to be a fly on the wall when lando, lily and alex heard these songs for the first time 😭🥹 ⤷ y/nsworld coming to tikotok and insta reels soon my love 🫶🏼 ⤷ yncharles OMG OMG SHE REPLIED SKSKDKDFKJ ⤷ alex_albon pls don't use the clip of me sobbing over 'that part' Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld too late bestie 😄 ⤷ lilymhe I am still not over and will never get over "you might not like her" Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld I will never be over the hug you gave me when I finished playing it to you for the first time

charles_leclerc mon amour, it was an honor to be involved in your music journey and I am so thankful for every day I get to share with you. darling I'd wait for you til forever falls apart 🤍 Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ chachacharles THEY'RE MY ROMAN EMPIRE 😭 ⤷ charlesfann pls tell me someone else noticed charles credited as songwriter on 'til forever falls apart' 😭

ynmylove LETS 👏 TALK 👏 ABOUT 👏 HOW CHARLES AND Y/N USED SONG TITLES IN THEIR COMMENTS TO EACH OTHER 😭 ⤷ charlesandcarlos try not to cry challenge FAILED

on twt:

y/n's q+a on ig:

charles_leclerc

Liked by y/nsworld, maxverstappen1 and 12,942,833 charles_leclerc my incredibly talented girlfriend's album is out now! I am beyond proud to be able to say that she trusted me to help her not only record some of the songs but write them too. I didn't know I was much of a songwriter but looking into your eyes suddenly turned me into a poet ma belle.

everyday you inspire me with your creativity, your passion, your energy and your love for those around you. I could write you a million love songs and there would still be things left to say. you're all I need now until forever falls apart. j'taime mon amour ❤️ (if you haven't heard the album yet make sure you go and listen now!)

View all 45,730 comments y/nsworld I love you more than any love song could ever express. my muse, my love, my life 🤍 Comment liked by charles_leclerc ⤷ ynloverrr OH MY GOD?! I'M SO VIOLENTLY UNWELL OH GOD ⤷ ferrar1 'looking into your eyes suddenly turned me into a poet'

y/nandcharles THEY ARE MY ROMAN EMPIRE

sabrinacarpenter This album is literally on repeat! I cried the first time I heard 'you might not like her' and every time since

charlesforwdc can we all please just appreciate the STUNNING piano in 'so this is love' Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld we were literally just messing about in the studio and decided we liked it enough for the album! ⤷ y/nvocals the fact they were both "messing about" and sound THIS GOOD IS INSANE

maxverstappen1 congrats mate! you nailed this project!

landonorris from sliding into the dm's to collaborating on an album is CRAZY ⤷ y/nsworld LANDO 😭😭 ⤷ f1fannn exCUSE ME? sliding what?! ⤷ charleswifey charles sliding in her dm's is crazy but understandable 😭 ⤷ charles_leclerc try the other way around... 👨‍🦯 ⤷ y/nsworld BABY! 😭

♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧

[corruptedcaps]

Power

Hi this is Maddy and I’m going to try the new confidence booster supplement from CC Industries called ‘Power’ and document it here. My boyfriend Alex is a scientist with the company so this is currently experimental but he assures me it’s safe. So this is me with zero days of Power.

Hi it’s Maddy again and this is day three of taking Power. Not seeing much difference yet. I think maybe my ass has gotten smoother and bigger? Let me know in the comments.

Hi it’s Maddy and this is day seven of taking Power and I’ve been feeling more confident and assertive. Thanks for all the compliments on my butt in my last video, that’s really helped my self esteem. Also maybe related but I seem to need my glasses less and less.

This is two weeks of being on Power and I think I’m really starting to feel a difference now. Like check out this cute outfit, I would have never had the confidence to wear something like this before. Comment below with a score out of 10 for how I look.

Maddy here and this is one month using Power. As you can tell it’s had some major physical side effects. My boobs are bigger, my skin is clearer and my lips are more full. It’s certainly been a hit with my boyfriend who suggested I up my dose. I’m not sure if I should but what’s the worse than can happen?

It’s me, Maddy, and this is what two months of Power looks like. I’ve never had the confidence to own a sun bathing suit before but now, well, I think this little number speaks for itself. My boyfriend was right, the double dose makes me feel and look even better. Other guys have noticed too, but don’t tell my boyfriend he has competition.

It’s me, Madi, naturally, and here I am looking like perfection after three months of Power. I’ve had a few changes in the last month. I got new clothes, new makeup and even a new car thanks to biggest change in my life, my new boyfriend Chad. He’s rich and handsome and knows how to treat a woman of my stature, not like my loser ex. Message for all you queens out there, don’t settle for frogs.

It’s Madison here to update you all on my four months of having Power. I’d also like to address the comments from my last video. The comments that say that I’ve become bitchy and superficial lately. I’d like to apologize to all the babies out there who are envious of me and want to take me down. You’re never going to take me down. Which reminds me, today I hit a milestone of 1 million subs!

Listen up, Madison is speaking. I know plenty of you jealous bitches have signed a petition to get CC Industries to cut off my supply of Power and somehow you losers won them over but I have plenty of Power stocked up. You think I’d give up this feeling after just five months? I might even start upping my dose!

I have big news for all my loser followers, your Queen is getting married. Not to Chad, I dumped him last week for my new man. Well not new exactly, it’s Alex my ex. I was burning through my supply of Power more than I thought and I knew Alex could get me more, but he was too moralistic and lame so I spiked his drinks over a few weeks with my remaining doses. He’s so fucking hawt and mean now. Power gave him the drive to take over CC industries so now I get all the Power I could ever want but I don’t like to share so we won’t be releasing it anytime soon. If I could do all this with only six months of Power, imagine what I’ll accomplish in the next six.

[frvnkcastles]

May I please request something w Frank where he has a punching bag set up in the apartment, and whenever you're over at his and you feel so many emotions flare up you excuse yourself sweetly and beat the hell out of the bag? And it gets to the point where you use the spare key when he's away just to use the bag? And when he comes back from an outing as the punisher he finds you curled up on the couch with split knuckles, a boxers fracture and crying, bot only from the pain of the fracture but just all of the emotions. And he takes you to the hospital to get your hands seen to and you have to wear a splint for a month which hinders you in which he helps?

Just comfort, maybe a touch 18+ when he has to help you bathe and change? Thank you!

THE WARMTH OF YOUR ARMS ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You fracture your hand while channeling all your emotions into Frank’s punching bag, and he looks after you.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, implied sexual content, gender neutral reader

Word count: 2.3k

Author’s note: Anon I am truly sooo sorry it took me so long to get to this, I really hope it was worth the wait! Sending you much love <3

Dating Frank came with many perks, like always having a guard dog disguised as a big, burly man or coming home just to find dinner ready and a bath about to be drawn. He took amazing care of you and he wouldn’t have it any other way, and it made you indescribably happy. That said, you still had a lot of stress and anger and sadness to get off of your shoulders, and that was where another upside of being Frank came in.

He had a punching bag set up in his apartment, just for his convenience, and you found great enjoyment in watching him beat it up, all sweaty and breathing heavily. But when you came over to his place after a long, frustrating day at work, the annoyance too much to bear, he suggested giving the punching bag a go. He showed you how to angle your fists and how to avoid hurting yourself, and as soon as he let go of you, you rained Hell on the bag, grunting and shouting while unleashing all your rage.

Ever since, your go-to for releasing pent-up emotions was attacking the bag, and Frank encouraged it. It helped you in ways that talking couldn’t always do, even if Frank always made sure to check in with you afterwards and calmed you down with lots of kisses and caresses. It was a good outlet for you, and he liked to see you free that animal inside of you that just needed to hurt something to feel better.

”Want you to have this, sweetheart”, Frank spoke up one day, approaching you on the couch of his living room with something in his fingertips. Once he handed it over, you realized it was a key, and instantly, your heart fluttered in your chest. It was a big step in your relationship, and he could see the surprise in your eyes, prompting him to go on. ”I know, I know. I just want ya to know that you’re always welcome here and that you have the right to stop by even if I ain’t home. I know you love that punching bag, so want you to use it anytime you’d like, yeah?” he explained, the look in his eyes serious. When you gave him an eager nod, though, he broke into a smile.

”I’ll take you up on that, baby.”

And you did. The bag wasn’t the only reason you visited, you also liked to take care of him the same way he took care of you by cleaning up or cooking for him, or leaving a new book on his bedside table. Still, you appreciated the chance to de-stress whenever you wanted, and you claimed that offer on multiple occasions.

The first time you regretted it was on a particularly bad day. Your emotions were getting the best of you and you felt so burdened and weighed down, unsure what else to do except go to Frank’s apartment. You knew he was out doing his thing, so you couldn’t get support from him, leaving you no option to go at the punching bag.

As you punched and punched, tears prickled at your eyes and you began to lose track of time. Your vision blurred and your head pounded, just like you were pounding the bag with your fists. You felt so angry and defeated at the same time, it was gnawing at you from the inside and you just wanted the bad feeling to go away.

You fell into a daze that you couldn’t break out of — until your hand cracked against the bag and the shock of the pain got a wail out of you. You stopped, doubling over while holding your hand, and pained cries escaped your mouth. The ache was terrible and agonizing and you couldn’t move your hand properly, sending panic coursing through you. Your breathing became ragged and as your head was spinning, you stumbled over to Frank’s couch to ground yourself and avoid falling over.

You supported your hand with your other one, unable to stop crying as the pain mixed in with the storm of emotions inside you. You were overwhelmed and it was causing you to freeze when you should have called Frank, your body shutting down while you sobbed on the couch.

You lucked out, as Frank had called it an early night and headed home sooner than expected. Once he made it to his front door, he heard your cries from inside, and within seconds, worry flared up in his chest and he was rushing to get inside. Whatever had happened, he needed to help you, not caring about the grime on him or the swelling on his eye anymore.

Bursting through the door, he dropped his bag on the floor and stomped over to you, eyes wide with concern. ”Baby, baby, what happened? Hey, ’m here, talk to me. Are you hurt?” he questioned, quickly assessing the situation and noticing you holding your hand in pain. He felt sick to his stomach, not to mention impatient to get to the bottom of what had happened — he didn’t do so well with being in the dark, especially when it came to something as important as you and your well-being.

”I had a terrible day, so—so I came here to punch it out but I really hurt my hand and I just feel so awful”, you rambled, almost non-sensical but Frank understood enough of it. His frown deepened but he nodded to confirm that he got you, and softly, he reached to wipe away your tears from your warm cheeks.

”I gotchu, darlin’. Can I see that hand? Lemme look”, he requested, and shaking viciously, you let him cradle your hand and observe it carefully. When he turned it just a little, you winced, and he immediately felt bad. ”Sorry, sweetheart. Think it’s fractured. I’mma gonna take you to the emergency room, aight?” he explained, and still weeping, you nodded. He sighed and leaned in to kiss your forehead, hoping to console you at least a little.

”It’s gon’ be okay, I promise. You can tell me all about your day soon, sweetheart. We just need to get that hand looked at”, he insisted before helping you up from the couch and leading you to the front door. And before stepping out, he sent a mean glare at the punching bag, reconsidering whether it was a good idea to have it or not.

He drove you to the emergency room, feeling like shit the whole time. You were holding your hand and sniffling the entire drive and he kept telling you it would be alright and he wasn’t going anywhere, but it didn’t alleviate his anguish. He wanted to take your pain away, both physical and emotional, leaving him feeling hopeless when he couldn’t do that.

You were fortunate in that it wasn’t too busy at this time of the night, and a doctor was able to see you after only a moment of waiting. Frank stood behind you while you were being examined, practically your protective shadow, and you felt a little better about your shitty day just because he was there. You hadn’t gotten to rant yet, but only his presence had a soothing effect on you.

You had to get your hand x-rayed, turning your night into a long one, but while you were waiting for the results, Frank got you some snacks for the vending machine. He watched you closely as you sadly munched on a chocolate bar, lacking all enthusiasm, and he could tell you had been completely drained by the day.

”What happened today, huh? We got some time, so ’m all ears, sweetheart. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he inquired with a solemn look. He hated that you were hurting on the outside, but he knew the doctor would be able to do more than he could himself, so he decided to focus on what was happening on the inside.

Sighing, you glanced at him. ”It feels stupid now. Probably wasn’t worth breaking my hand”, you pointed out, and with an unamused chuckle, Frank gave your shoulder a slight nudge.

”C’mon. Y’know I don’t mind. I wanna hear all ’bout what’s goin’ on with my baby”, he emphasized, knowing that without a little pressure you would have just bottled it up, and he didn’t like that. He wanted to know everything, help in any way he could, and he wouldn’t allow you to feel bad for leaning on him.

So, you detailed everything that had pushed you over the edge and made you feel so terrible. Sometimes it was hard to understand the extreme emotions in you but up until now, the punching bag had been a great way for you to release everything.

”That sounds real tough, darlin’. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner, y’know? I never wanna see you hurtin’ in any way”, he sighed once you were finished, caressing your unharmed hand. ”Thinkin’ we gotta get rid of the punching bag. I ain’t riskin’ you gettin’ banged up like this again. We’ll figure somethin’ else out, yeah?” he noted, though he wasn’t really looking to debate about it — to him, it was already a done deal. Anything that got you hurt was out immediately.

”Talking to you helps. Thanks for listening, Frankie”, you admitted, smiling at him softly, and he returned it, albeit smaller and sneakier.

”Anytime, sweetheart. Love you, aight? I’mma make sure tomorrow is a better day”, he swore, warming your heart as you dropped your head onto his shoulder.

”Love you, too.”

Finally, the doctor called you back in, and as feared, your hand was fractured. The remedy was a splint you were bound to wear for a month, and as he attached it to your hand, you thought about all the things you were going to struggle with for the next 30 days.

”Some help will probably be needed with routine things like cooking, cleaning, that kind of stuff”, the doctor mentioned, and before you even had time to feel bad and like a burden, Frank was responding.

”That ain’t a problem. I’ll take care of everythin’ for as long as necessary”, he stated simply, giving you a stern look. ”No arguments, you hear me? I’m lookin’ after you, not gonna let you outta my sight”, he proclaimed, and unable to hide a smile, you agreed.

He took you home and right away, you were faced with problems that only Frank could help with. ”I was hoping to take a bath…”, you trailed off shyly, but it was all Frank needed to hear.

”You got it, sweetheart. C’mere”, he wrapped an arm around you and steered you into the bathroom where he plugged the tub before starting the tap. As the tub began to fill up, he gently reached for the hem of your shirt, giving you a questioning look. ”Aight if I help you undress?” he asked, and already nodding, you lifted your arms.

”Always”, you affirmed, and with consent acquired, he began peeling your clothes off. He started with your shirt, and as soon as your chest was revealed, his eyes lingered. You could tell he was trying to be respectful, but you grinned, nonetheless. ”See something you like, mister?” you teased, and with a snort, Frank licked his lips.

”Y’know I do. Can’t get enough of you, darlin’”, he praised, his eyes dark as he towered over you and unbuttoned your jeans. As he shimmied them down your thighs and legs, he brushed his hands across your underwear and you saw him swallow hard. ”Fuckin’ perfect”, he muttered under his breath, boosting your ego as he tossed your jeans aside.

Once you were completely naked, he had to stop himself from letting his hands roam, although you wouldn’t have minded. Still, he showed restraint as he helped you step into the tub and get seated comfortably. Rolling up his sleeves, he grabbed the shampoo, ready to wash your hair for you, and you felt heat rise to your face at the thought of your own uselessness.

”Sorry about this”, you sighed as he was massaging your scalp, his thick fingers expertly scrubbing the shampoo into your hair. It was going to be a long month, and you feared he would get sick of it, but he was quick to reassure otherwise.

”Nah, don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’ll always take care of you, got that? I ain’t lettin’ you go through this alone”, he vowed, his loyalty to you unwavering. He had been unable to prevent you getting hurt in the first place, but he sure as hell was going to stick around for the aftermath. ”Think you should stay here for the next month, yeah? Don’t want you strugglin’ at home by yourself”, he added, and with a careful smile, you nodded.

”I’d like that”, you beamed before continuing, ”you sure it’s gonna be okay?”

With a confident smile, Frank stopped massaging your hair just enough to tilt his head at you and meet your gaze. ”I’m sure, sweet darlin’. I’mma make sure things go smoothly”, he spoke with conviction, fully intending to take care of everything for the next month — and after that, too.

He stayed true to his word. Your fractured hand came in the way of far more things than you had anticipated, but Frank watched you like a hawk and you never had to ask, he was already there. He cooked for you, letting you take charge with some of the easier steps to involve you in the process, and he helped you get dressed every morning, admittedly with wandering hands and a hungry stare. He wouldn’t let you do anything by yourself, just to be safe, but he also didn’t let you feel like a burden, always ready to console you and remind you that you were one day closer to getting the splint off.

And just like he had said, the punching bag was gone.

[redbatchedcumbermayned]

It all started under a duvet held up by an oar

Not so long ago I emailed Chris Tester, the voice of Heinrix van Calox in Owlcat’s recently released CRPG Rogue Trader, and asked if he would like to sit for an interview with me. Having some experience in interviewing people I like, most famously Oscar winner and all-around sweetheart Eddie Redmayne, this was not a completely nerve-wracking endeavour. And within a day of sending my email, Chris said yes. And what a pleasure it was interviewing him: Chris was so generous with his time, that the agreed upon 30 minutes turned into 50 minutes as we brushed upon many topics from his start as a theatre actor to his first voice-over role in a video game to his recently discovered hobby of playing D&D. Of course, we also spoke about all things Warhammer 40k, his new found fame brought on by voicing Heinrix and the insights he could share about the character.

I will publish this interview in three parts over the next week in text form and with the accompanying audio file (the audio quality is not spectacular but tumblr limits uploads to 10MB). If you quote or reshare, please quote me as the original source.

Part 2 of the interview

Part 3 of the interview

Fran: Thank you very much for taking your time.

Chris Tester: That's no problem. No problem at all.

F: So then let's start. You graduated in 2008.

CT: I did. Yes.

F: You started out as a stage actor. Did you always want to become a stage actor or an actor in general? Tell us a bit about your career.

CT: I always wanted to be a stage actor. Yes, as soon as I knew that I wanted to be an actor, which probably wasn't until I was a teenager. But yeah, my first passion was always the stage, and that was kind of borne out in my career. I would have been open to TV and film of course, if it had come along, I'm a huge fan of TV and film as well, but I never got an audition for any TV or film work.

I think I literally did about three short films in my 10, 12 years of actually professionally acting, and it is one of those industries where the more you do of one thing, the more you seem to find yourself doing the same thing to a degree. So yes, watching Shakespeare from an early age was one of my first passions.

And that was what first planted the seed of wanting to do it myself. The whole aspect of live performance is still something that I'm very passionate about. Up until 2020, when the world changed, I was trying to do two or three theatre shows a year, but since 2020, I haven't been near a stage and I doubt right now, especially with the way that the UK theatre scene is going, that I'm going to be back on stage anytime soon. I am resigned to that, but at some point in my career, I know I will be on stage again, because I can't live without it, but only for the right thing, both financially, but more importantly, creatively.

F: Your production company is currently on hiatus?

CT: I was the producer of a theatre company, which was run and was the baby of the director of the company, a guy called Ross Armstrong, who's one of the most talented writers and directors that I've ever worked with. I was helping out with a lot of the administration stuff so that he could still put me in plays. Instead of creating my own work because I'm not a very good writer or the best writer in the world, I support those people who will write me good parts. So yes, it is currently on hiatus, but never say never, we would always be looking to get back. It's difficult right now. It's difficult for all of us, because arts council subsidy, that way of being able to fund stuff, is drying up. We were doing a national tour of the UK when we were doing that [with the support of a subsidy]. There's even less money, there's even more people. I won't bore you with anything more than that, but it's kind of tough. We'd like to come back, but in the right way, and that's tricky to negotiate.

F: It's always hard as a stage actor to earn a living.

CT: Well, I've been spoiled by voice-over as well, and whereas when I was in my 20s and 30s then you're all about your art. And of course, I'm still all about my art, but I'm also about my wife and my cat and the mortgage and the bills and wanting to have nicer things to a degree as well. I've come to terms with that and voice-over does facilitate that as well as it opens you up to different roles and working with different people. So, I can't complain.

F: It's quite similar with making a living as a writer, because with a steady income you get used to a certain standard of living and once you have obligations and bills to pay, I think the stress on your mental health being creative and having all the stresses of regular life thrust upon you brings with it a challenge.

CT: It's a cliche we can very easily fall into: if I'm suffering, then it means I'm an artist. And that's not necessarily very true. It very often means that the art that we create only reflects one aspect of our lives, and it's usually a very tortured one. I am also about having wider experiences and broadening myself out. Whereas I think when I was in my twenties, I was thinking a bit more like: Oh, I'll experience the world and life through my art and just purely through my art. Whereas now necessarily I need to have a life outside of it as well, and then I can justify like I have the life so that I can feed my art or not, whatever. You know, I'll be a better artist by having a bit of a life outside of it. Maybe.

F: But that's what your twenties are for.

CT: Yeah, indeed.

F: Doing the crazy stuff, doing the band stuff 

CT: Yeah, yeah, exactly. So, there was certainly an aspect of that in my twenties.

F: So, what brought you to voice acting or voice-over work initially?

CT: Money. Video game stuff is kind of sexy and cool, and I'm a gamer, so that's important. Before I was a video gamer, I was a board gamer and off the back of that, I was a voracious video gamer, partly because I wasn't very good at team sports at school. I was always the person who was picked last in the football team. So that becomes part of your identity for better or worse. But video games, I was pretty good at, not amazing, but I was pretty good at, and I enjoyed it. And it gave me a different form of escapism as well, and off the back of that I always had an interest in them. 

So, the very first voiceover job was a video game: Dark Souls, which is quite a big franchise. At that time, I was your very typically jobbing actor. My acting agent came in and said: I got something for you. And so, I went in with that. But it was only in 2016, 2017 that I realised it was something that you could actually do yourself. People had recording studios at home and they were contacting people directly, not just going through agents. Because I'd basically written to the same 20 voice agents in the UK, mainly in London for like eight years in a row and not received anything. So, you keep knocking on those doors hoping. 

Before I'd even graduated from drama school, I'd burnt a CD and made these cases with my headshot on it and sent them all off at what at the time felt like great personal expense and didn't get anything for eight years in a row.  So, I was a bit like, I'm obviously doing something wrong, but I don't really know what, because I'm doing these workshops and getting good feedback. Then I found out through a couple of online courses, that there were ways and means of doing it myself, and that was a bit of a game changer for me, and within six months of having started, I was earning more through voice work than the bar job and the box office job that I was doing combined. Within six months, I was kind of like: “I gotta quit because I'm actually holding myself back from things.” So that was quite a big shift.

F: Somewhere you said, you started out under a duvet and with an oar.

CT: Yeah. On my website, I do have an image of it. [Dear reader, I could not locate this elusive photo] I literally had to take the duvet off my bed and put it into the living room, which was the quietest space in my then shared flat. I also had to wait until after one flat mate had watched TV and another one had used the table that had their washing on it. One of my flat mates had stolen an oar from some night out and that was perfect in order to be able to erect it over my head and the duvet as a frame. 

I did probably the first four or five months of voice recording like that. Probably about 10, 15 voiceover jobs that I actually got paid for, I was using that because it worked well enough. Since then, I've gone through various different iterations of a setup in the bedroom, to a setup in the hallway, to my current setup. In 2020 we moved to our first house, and this is the spare bedroom which I've had converted into a studio, which means my cat can be here asleep on me or near me getting fur everywhere, but it's fine. I can thrash around and I've got natural light to work in at the same time, which I find quite important. [Pictured below Chris' current setup.]

F: Very pretty. That's good. Guide us through a typical day of yours, if you like.

CT: Oh, sure. I mean, there is no typical day. And yet, and yet, and yet. A typical day for me is, because I am spending the vast majority of the day sitting in this room or somewhere close to this room, because I may need to record at short notice, because the vast majority of jobs are quite short notice. My priority is exercise for mental health more than anything. I've got some weights at the bottom of the garden, and I will get up first thing, and I will go there and I will do that after breakfast. And that's my minimal routine of physical activity done. 

And then I'll come back, and this is so rock and roll. Now what I do is, I spend like an hour on LinkedIn. And that's what you dreamed of as a creative person. Isn't it as an actor? I spend time on LinkedIn regularly every day, because it's a really good networking place for a lot of my types of work, and first thing in the morning, I'm a bit mentally sharper. So that's when I come up with a quick post that may be inspired by a bit of content that I've made elsewhere. That probably takes about 20 minutes and then I spend another 45 minutes to an hour engaging with people and saying hi and introducing myself and asking questions, whether that's with video producers or game developers or documentary makers or pretty much anything and everything. There are a lot of people who are active at that time. And so I do it.

And then after that, if I already have some recording lined up, then I'll prioritise mid-morning, because I've warmed up physically a bit more then, and I'm focused. So, you're going through the scripts, annotating the scripts, recording the scripts, editing the scripts. But then there could be live sessions at any time within that as well. I try to keep hours from nine till six. But occasionally, like with Rogue Trader, that was recorded at various different times of the day because we had people in New York, we had people in mainland Europe, and we had people in the UK. So all different time zones, so that can happen at any time. 

And then I try to do other kinds of bits and pieces of marketing whenever I've got free time to. I do use really exciting productivity hacks, like time blocking. Again, not something that as a creative individual, I was like: Oh God, this gets me so excited, because it doesn't, but it works. It's finding a system that works for you, but still has a certain kind of flexibility and fluidity. I'm trying to make sure that I get outside of the house, and that kind of stuff. 

Recently, over the last year, I’ve started doing audiobooks as well. That long form type of thing is quite nice to be able to dip into because sometimes you don't record for two, three days. You don't get the work. Nothing’s coming in. So, you’re marketing, but it kind of connects you back to the performance side of things to go: I can do a few chapters and you know, that kind of thing. So that's probably it. I try to formalise it, but you know, every voice actor’s day is radically different. There are people, some of the biggest names, going into different studios every week or every day. I very rarely, despite being based in London, I very rarely go into external studios. Like I would say 99 percent of the work I just do from home.

F: So how do you find the right voice for the specific type of voiceover work you do, maybe start with how did you find Heinrix's voice?

CT: Thankfully, Owlcat sent through quite a detailed casting breakdown. So, you get a picture, and that's pretty crucial, as well as a short bio, in terms of the background of the character, but not too much, because you have to sign an NDA, a non-disclosure agreement. But even if you do sign an NDA, I think developers are always slightly hesitant of giving you too much info about the game because things could still be changed. But I think I did get a picture of Heinrix, if not in the first audition, then certainly on the second one. From that you immediately think about the physicality and what might affect the voice, and there was also some direction in terms of what they were looking for. Anybody who has heard the character and me, they do not sound radically dissimilar. There's not a transformative process that I needed to go through, other than his sense of authority and the space that he takes up and the sureness that he has in that he has a kind of divine right from the emperor, so that level of confidence being brought through.

The other part of the audition was about the void ship [the Black Ship] that he'd been raised in and the horrors that he'd seen. And you as the actor have to do the detective work to go like this is showing another side, the more vulnerable side, the side that underpins all of his life choices up to this point. It's essentially playing the opposite to a degree. So it was kind of knowing when to let those elements bleed through a little bit. I think I had probably about a page worth of scripts, quite a lot of script actually to audition with. 

But I don't like to listen back to it a lot, because I think you get into your head. My biggest thing is stage work where it's ephemeral. You say it once and it could be different the next night. The whole point is that there's no one definitive way of doing things. Not quite the same with voice acting, where it's being recorded and you've got to get used to hearing it back. But I try not to overthink it. Just like record it two or three times with different impulses and then review and go like, those two seem pretty contrasting. I'll send those along and hope and then never hear anything back unless I do.

[eddiemunsonw]

None of your business | PART 2

PART 1 - PART 2

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: It's one week later and Gator returns for more

CW/Disclaimer: Smut, handjob, oral (f and m)

Author's note: A few people wanted to see a part 2, so here it is! I have something sitting in my askbox still that I'll try to write for next, so don't expect a part 3 anytime soon (or ever really, if I'm being honest)

Words: 3694

Next Saturday came around and you found yourself paying more attention to the door than you usually would. Despite being the one doing the favor, you had enjoyed your little late night escapades with Gator more than you’d like to admit. In fact, it had given you your own release thinking back on it every night since. The thought of rocking his world to the point that he was more focused on wanting to kiss you rather than getting his own jizz out of his face was also hard to forget.

However, there was no Gator. You wondered if maybe he was too busy, duty calls and such, whatever that meant as Roy Tillman’s son. Maybe he had found the confidence to ask someone else now that he had a sliver of experience. You didn’t know why that annoyed you so much. Brutal Bob was the last to stick around that night. Normally he would have gone by now. He hadn’t asked for a refill in a bit and if he wasn’t still obviously breathing and looking alright you would have taken his temperature just to make sure. There was an amused expression on his face, which widened when you met him with a confused glance of your own.

“What are you so smiley about Mr Bob?” you asked with a chuckle. “I keep seeing that sneaky smirk of yours!”

Brutal Bob laughed, which sounded more like a cough and something gurgling in his throat.

“What’s it with you and Tillman’s boy, sweetie?”

“Tillman’s boy? What do you mean?” 

You were genuinely curious, considering nothing had really been going on when Brutal Bob had been around.

“He’s been “sneakily” looking through the windows every ten minutes or so. You got a date or summit?”

Immediately, your head turned to the nearest window where sure enough, you could see just about the edge of a cap peaking from below. Did he just hide himself from you?

“Oh, I don’t know Bob, I think the likes of them fancy a proper girl. They’re not gonna find that one with me,” you said with a shrug. Brutal Bob shook his head with a smile and you got the feeling that he was smarter than he let on.

“Alright dearie, I will call it a night so you can go to bed as well. If it’s your bed you’re sleepin’ in t’night.”

“Bob! Stop it,” you chuckled as he threw you the fattest, most exaggerated wink as he got up from the barstool. “Mind your business old man.”

“Alright alright. Just nee responsible like I am!”

With one of his bouldering laughs (and coughs) he left the bar. If you weren’t mistaken, he announced his departure loudly once he was outside. It took about another five minutes for Gator to come in. With… flowers? Which he had clearly plucked out of someone’s garden. Interesting.

“I thought he’d never—” Gator coughed, “I mean, the lights were still on when I happened to drive by so I thought I’d come in and say hi.”

“A very spontaneous decision I’m sure,” you said with an amused smile and a pointed glance to the flowers in his hand. He followed your gaze and tightened his grip around the makeshift bouquet of daffodils.

“Just thought this dim bar could use some color,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“You think they’ll survive in this dim bar?” you asked curiously, wanting to see his response to your teasing.

“Just take the damn flowers, woman,” he grumbled, holding them out for you to take. “I need to take a piss.”

“Thank you for the flowers, man,” you called after him as he disappeared towards the bathroom as soon as you accepted the flowers. With a chuckle, you grabbed a vase to put some water in, giving them the spot on the bar that would get the most daylight. Daffodils usually didn’t last that long. When he came back, he glanced over at the vase and then his eyes flicked over to you to watch you warily.

“So?”

“They’re lovely, thank you. Who knew you could be cute when you wanted to,” you said with a subtle smile teasing your lips. Gator groaned. He wasn’t mad, just “annoyed”. Quotation marks were in order.

“Shut up, remember who you’re talking to. I’m not cute.”

“I think giving a woman flowers after getting a surprise first timer handjob is pretty cute.”

“Isn’t it like, the bare minimum for first date shit? What’s cute about the bare minimum?”

It sounded like he genuinely wanted to know. You decided not to tell him that the fact he had been waiting outside for the perfect moment to step in was cute too.

“Sometimes I think things people do are cute when you don’t expect it from that particular person. I expected you to… I don’t know. I actually expected you to not come in at all, at some point,” you told him honestly. Gator frowned and stepped behind the bar, finding his comfort in your close proximity again.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked, again, genuinely confused. You took a step towards him as well, waiting for him to back away except, he didn’t.

“Well… thought you’d find it elsewhere than the last resort now that the awkwardness of the first time has passed.”

You had no idea why you were being this honest with him. Maybe it was because he was looking at you with an openness you hadn’t seen before. He was still frowning, but it was easy to see through the tough exterior.

“I don’t see why I’d search for someone else when I already got myself a woman right here,” Gator mumbled. “Besides, I don’t know everything yet. You said I wouldn’t be able to get you off so why would I bother with someone else? I want you to tell me what to do. So I can…”

Find someone more suitable and prettier for my needs, you finished off in your head. When he seemed to hesitate, you promoted him to answer. You just wanted him to confirm it for your own sake.

“So you can…?”

 A blush spread on his cheeks but his eyes flared with annoyance. One step closer and he towered over you. It shouldn’t make your heart beat this fast to see his gaze drop to your lips.

“Just— shut up! Shut up and let me… do the… do it back.”

“Do what back?”

“Finger you.”

He gave you a challenging look as if to say, yeah I’m using big boy words and so what? You couldn’t help but laugh and felt a little guilty when the confidence drained from his face.

“What?!”

“Nothing.”

“Spit it out, woman.”

“Ah, if only it was said with a little less disdain, I might have considered complying...”

“Do you want me to finger you or not?” he asked impatiently. From the way he was fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket, you figured he was the one really wanting to do the deed. Return the favor, if you will.

“Well jeez I’m gushing down there from this sensual foreplay, oh my,” you mumbled sarcastically. “You’re not gonna get me wet with just your fingers, you gotta put some work into it, get me in the mood.”

“Females are such a handful…”

“Women just require a more complicated manual. Men are embarrassingly easy honestly.”

“Men are not embarrassing!” Gator protested.

“Right, tell that to the string of jizz nearly hitting your eye out of eagerness last week, hm?”

Gator grabbed you roughly by the shoulders and pushed you against the wall right next to all the expensive liquor. The bottles rattled faintly as you gasped in a breath.

“I’m fucking done. Never mind this- this bullshit—”

You grabbed his hands from your shoulders and put them on your waist instead. Confusion mixed with anger, though it was more so exasperation, etched into his face. You felt his fingers flex just lightly under yours.

“Come on. Touch. Show that you care about her. Show her that it matters to you how she feels too.”

It kind of sucked, removing yourself from the narrative despite being the most prominent factor there alongside him. However, since he clearly had plans to learn and move on, you didn’t want to let your mind linger too much on what could have been. After a moment, you let go of his hands when you felt he wanted to let them wander on his own. Whichever words he had left for you died on his tongue when you let go of a soft, content sigh. His hands were big and frankly it had been a while since someone touched you with such tenderness. Gator watched your face like a hawk, focused on every reaction his wandering hands caused. As his thumbs brushed the underside of your boobs, his lips parted to run his tongue along them. Your eyes shifted towards his and you were surprised to meet his gaze, a softer one this time.

“Can I touch your tits?”

There was nothing that had prepared you for Gator Tillman asking for permission rather than just taking it. You wondered why that was. As far as you knew, the Tillmans never asked for anything. They took. Normally you probably would have giggled at the way the words left his mouth, but right now you only found yourself nodding. Gator’s hands didn’t waste a second to cup them fully, squeezing them over and over as if they were the first pair of boobs he ever laid his hands on. It probably was. Soft curse words rolled over his lips in quick succession, his eyes full of lust as they trained themselves on the view his hands created. He seemed to drown in the feeling, the freedom to give into his urges. You gently cleared your throat and his eyes immediately flicked up.

“Bad?”

“No, it’s- it’s alright.” It was better than alright. “Was just wondering if you were still with us,” you finished with a soft smile. Gator rolled his eyes and moved his hands back down to your waist, pulling it against his own.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he mumbled and with the pressure you felt straining in his pants you wondered if he made a subtle innuendo there. You nodded and he moved away until your hands grabbed his waist to keep him there.

“This part can be good too,” you told him gently, emphasizing what you meant by a roll of your hips. His breath stuttered and he bucked his hips against you, forehead coming down to rest against your own.

“T-That’s uh— But, for you too?” He struggled to make coherent sentences. You looked down at your skirt, considering. While you weren’t much of a skirt wearer, you had to admit that you had pulled on this stretchy short pencil skirt with Gator in mind. It would just be easier to move things out of the way, wouldn’t it?

“Less clothes in the way helps,” you mused softly, as you hitched up your pencil skirt until it rested on your waist, black tights and matching black panties on display in the dim light of the bar. Gator’s hands immediately came down to grasp the curve of your hips, his fingers digging deeply into the soft skin.

“Fuck… you’re…”

For some reason, he stopped himself and instead fumbled with his own pants until he could push them down to his knees. You didn’t have to tell him to slot his leg between your thighs as his natural instinct took over. His forehead came to rest against yours again as he rolled his hips deliciously against yours. An easy moan left him as soon as he found a rhythm, his hands holding your hips hard enough to bruise. You flung your arms around his neck and glanced over his shoulder towards one of the windows, realizing you never shut the blinds.

“You know… any passerby could see us right now,” you whispered into his ear. His breath was picking up as he rolled his hips quicker and a shaky moan left him at your words.

“Fuck, you can’t just say that shit!” You could tell he tried to sound annoyed rather than horny, though he failed miserably at it. Your smile rested against his cheek.

“Oh, you like that, hm?”

He mumbled something incoherent.

“Shut up.”

Oh. Hm.

“Make me.”

For a moment, Gator stopped moving, as if his brain couldn’t keep up with both your conversation and the actions of his hips. Then, his gaze snapped up, his face already so close to yours.

“Say that again,” he ordered, even though his expression was more hopeful than demanding. You nodded, a smile teasing your lips.

“Make. Me.”

Gator crashed his lips against yours and moved them eagerly yet so clueless, while his hips failed to maintain their rhythm now that he was occupied with kissing you. It was a little sloppy, but he happened to use just the right amount of tongue and for some reason it was working for you. You needed to gasp for breath and right in that moment, you felt his grip on your right hip loosen as his hand wandered down and slipped below your tights. Normally, you’d tell him that a little teasing above the fabric could be very enticing as well, but right now you honestly really just wanted to feel his calloused fingers against your skin. He clumsily found his way down and immediately started rubbing you way off your clit which you couldn’t really fault him for. Some men still couldn’t find the clit after several encounters.

His impatient kisses faltered a little when you wrapped your hand around his own, probably fearing he’d done something wrong. To assure him he had nothing to worry about, you kissed him again and adjusted his fingers to where you needed them. Hesitantly he continued to move them once your hand slipped out again and when it was rewarded with a soft moan against his lips, he rubbed your clit a little faster.

“Good?” he sighed against your lips, not giving you the time to answer with words as he stuck his tongue inside your mouth again. You hummed in approval and moved your legs apart a bit more to give him better access. Apparently he noticed, because his free hand wandered down your hip to hoist it up, his hand easily holding it there.

“Oh, Gator—”

“Yeah?” You felt him smile against your lips and his next words sounded a little cocky. “You like that, huh? Like it when I play with you baby?”

Very cocky, actually, all things considered. But god it was working for you. He teased your entrance with newfound confidence and after feeling around your wetness he was quick to add a second before he actually started thrusting his fingers into your cunt in quick succession. His palm happened to make just the right contact with your clit, which you considered beginner’s luck on his end. On your end, it was pure bliss. Your hips bucked into his hand and a low chuckle left his lips.

“Not so talkative now, eh? Jesus you’re wet down there. It’s like— you’re just so wet for me. Because of me.”

His stupid words and his quick finger work were what pushed you over the edge not much later. It wasn’t the best orgasm you ever had, but you certainly weren’t complaining either. A little out of breath, Gator reached for your face after gently letting your leg back down.

“I think I’m a natural, huh?” he mumbled with a cocky grin, “can fucking smell you.”

And just like that, he brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled. Without removing his gaze from you he experimentally gave his finger a lick, followed by a groan.

“Fuck…”

One moment he was in front of you and the next he was down on his knees, pulling your tights and panties down and pushing your legs apart before hoisting one over his shoulder. His nose tickled you as he accidentally leaned in too close, though he made quick work of letting his lips follow the same trail, and then his tongue.

Eagerly, he started to lap up your juices in eager licks from your dripping cunt all the way up to your clit. You had never been eaten out this hungrily, noisily. His spit mixed with your juices was running down your thighs as he grunted into you, licking and sucking everywhere until it was all cleaned up. You were almost on your way to your second orgasm when he suddenly stopped and you realized you had been moaning and grabbing onto his hair desperately. You wanted to wipe the smug expression off his face but instead all that came out was: 

“Please.”

His chuckle vibrated against your clit right before he took it between his lips and sucked. His fingers found your cunt again and it was easy to forget that this man was a virgin a week ago. His fingers could use some work but holy shit his mouth was heaven sent. He moaned with you when you grabbed onto his hair tighter and rode yourself to your orgasm on his tongue. When you glanced down at a particular desperate moan from his lips, you noticed he was jerking himself off.

“Don’t come,” you warned, trying to sound stern purely because you wanted to listen to his protests. When his hand didn’t slow down, you nudged his balls with the toe of your shoe.

“Don’t.”

Sure enough, his hand slowed and his mouth worked faster. You were certain you nearly pulled out his hair with the force you held it with but he didn’t seem to mind. Once again you couldn’t help but look down and to your surprise he was watching you as your hips moved over his tongue. That intense gaze was all you needed to get there a second time.

Gator immediately went for cleaning you up with his tongue again but you pulled him back by his hair this time and made him get up so you could drop to your knees instead.

“Oh…” 

He watched your hand as you wrapped it around his base and bit his lip hard enough to bleed when you rested your tongue under the head of his throbbing cock. His hair was a mess thanks to you and together with the rosy cheeks, he had never looked cuter (and hornier). He frowned a little when you grabbed his hand and guided it to the back of your head where you helped him grab onto the makeshift ponytail. Quickly catching on after that, you watched as his pupils blew wide into lust and his hand tightened around your hair as he started to move his hips. Slowly at first, and you assumed he did that so he wouldn’t blow his load in two seconds, then faster, and faster, and sure enough in under a minute, he was done. His hips stuttered as weak, high pitched, dragged out moans left him while he enjoyed the warmth of your mouth. He kept you there for a moment, nose buried in his pubes, looking up at him as you swallowed around his head.

“God, fucking look at you…” he mumbled. “Wanna keep you there forever.”

Yet, he pulled back and pulled you back up. His lips ghosted yours with a temporary hesitance before he kissed you softly. There was no rush this time when he tenderly explored your mouth, his hands resting on your hips.

It surprised you when he pulled your skirt back down before he pulled his boxers up and the smile he had was calmer than any you had seen before.

“Can’t have people get a look at you,” he mumbled, as if you practically hadn’t been giving a show to any possible passerby. You doubted anyone would have seen, considering the time, but still. A hesitant smile formed on your face and you nodded quietly. He’d probably go somewhere else now, right? To someone else? You hadn’t done everything but the last part was honestly the easiest if you did the rest well enough. Gator took your chin between his fingers and gave you a concerned look.

“Why are you so quiet? Did I hurt you or something?”

“No, you didn’t, I’m fine.”

Gator rolled his eyes at your obvious lie and bent down to help you back into your panties and tights. As if that would help. If anything, these unexpected kind gestures only made it harder. His next question surprised you.

“Why’d you say “touch her” earlier? Make “her” feel good?”

Honestly, you wish he just left. What kind of question was that? Wasn’t it obvious?

“Well, since I know you’re here to… learn, and it’s not about me or anything, I thought I’d… I don’t know. Just removed myself from the narrative I guess.”

“Well that’s stupid,” Gator mumbled. “I’m here to have sex with you, not someone else. I came back, didn’t I? I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t good and… tonight was really good. Like, better than watching porn.”

You snorted and felt relief slowly surge in your body as you took in his words.

“I sure hope so, yeah,” you sighed with half a smile.

“Are you only having sex with me because I’m a virgin? Is it a savior complex kind of thing?” Gator looked at you intensely, impatient for your mouth to give the answer.

“No.”

“Why then?”

“Because I…”

Like you. 

“I like you,” Gator blurted, voicing your own thoughts out loud. “I only wanna have sex with you. I wanna go all the way someday too but… not now.”

He looked a little shy, as if being open about his feelings was a completely new concept to him. It probably was.

“What do you wanna do now?”

“Kiss you. But only if you like me back.”

You smiled and loosely wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I like you back.”

“Good.”

He kissed you slowly, with the silent promise of doing it again, and again, and again.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[joobywooby]

HI hi! I saw you wanted XH suggestions and omg I'm honestly dying for two things and feel free to do either, both, or none!

A fluff of Jooyeon being cute and silly with you when you were down and depressed, and eventually it ends in bed cuddles and sweet kisses~

Ooorrr...

A O.de smut where Seungmin was so frustrated with work, you offer to listen to him but things end up spicy between you and him, especially after you offer for him to take his frustrations out on you...

a/n: Hi again honey! I do plan on writing the Jooyeon prompt for this ask but rest assured I'll be writing the seungmin on probably on Monday for you too! Thank you so much for checking up on me the other day too and I hope you like this <3 Love you so much! also I kinda changed a few things, so this one isn't really that silly, but I hope this comfort fic makes you happy when you read it.

taglist: @mon2sunjinsuver

Turn that frown upside down

Fluff, slight angst, comfort

Lee Jooyeon x Reader

A Jar of pickles. Something as simple as that was all it took for the dam to break.

This week had been especially tough. Normally, you could handle it, leaving all of the stress at work to help settle your nerves, but this time, nothing seemed to be going right. You had failed to meet your deadlines due to trying to juggle too many things at once,while also trying to get in even just a few hours of sleeping before getting up to repeat the cycle all over again.

However, you'd been trying everything and anything to hide how exhausted you were from Jooyeon. You knew he had been working overtime,too, as well as endless shows and schedules that had him falling into bed into instant sleep before he could even get into his pyjamas.

So, when the two of you finally had a mutual day off, you were bound and determined to find something to do to take your mind off of the constant stressors. So, you decided to make a snack tray, filling it up with all of the things the both of you loved before settling down to start a show the both of you had added to your watch later list.

Reaching into the cabinet for the unopened jar of mini pickles, your elbow bumps into it, resulting in the jar falling off of the shelf, glass and the contents of the container spilling into the floor anywhere it could reach. Out of pure frustration and instincts, you can't help but tear up, cheeks heating up and hands going to hide your face as you lose it, kneeling on the floor and releasing all of your pent up emotions.

You're so lost in your head you jump upon feeling a warm palm at the small of your back, helping you up off of the floor. "Baby what happened? Are you hurt? Here let me look at your knees", Jooyeon is so gentle, genuine concern in his eyes and his voice as he examines your legs, checking for any cuts of scrapes from the shattered glass.

"I-i'm okay. Just, just dropped something in the floor", you sniffle, wiping your eyes and your nose, avoiding his gaze. "Then why are you crying so hard,babe? Talk to me", his lips graze your forehead, holding you close to him as he waited for you to be ready.

"I've just been under so much stress at work, and nothing's been going well, at all. I just didn't want to worry you with my problems because I know you've been working so much and it's not fair", your voice is small, and he feels his heart break at your words.

"My love, It doesn't matter how stressed and tired I am from work. I'll never push your problems aside because I love you, I'm always here, okay? I'm not going anywhere anytime soon either. Turn that frown upside down,okay?", he giggles, pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks before reach down, grabbing you by the backs of your thighs before lifting you up into his arms, carrying you sweetly and gently to your shared bedroom, lips never leaving yours. The mess can always be cleaned up later, he had more important things to tend to.

[marscantread7]

Hualian a/b/o (Hua Cheng can't control his scent around Xie Lian)

Everytime you read about omegaverse, you read about the omegas who can't control their scents and go crazy when their alpha is nearby. Anytime they get a whiff of their alpha's scent, they feel calm and relaxed or go a little crazy. Alphas are always the calm and collected ones, the only time you ever really see them going crazy over an omega's scent is when an omega's in heat.

Thinking of alpha Hua Cheng who can't control his scent around omega Xie Lian. Xie Lian's the calm and collected one until Hua Cheng's in rut and his cherry scent is all over the place.

Xie Lian thinks it's cute. How Hua Cheng's scent is always under control as he looks down on the residents of Ghost City. He's always calm and composed, carrying the room with his domineering presence, but as soon as Xie Lian is nearby his scent goes a little haywire. The scent of cherries turns overly sweet as Hua Cheng tries to hide his excitement.

"San Lang, this scent..." Xie Lian will mumble.

"Oh! Gege I am so sorry! It gets a little out of control sometimes."

"You smell so sweet San Lang."

And Hua Cheng's scent will intensify by 100, his cheeks flaming. He'll thank Xie Lian profusely.

"It's a bit embarrassing because Gege's scent is always neutral. It still smells good! Gege always smells good!"

And Xie Lian will just thank Hua Cheng saying it was part of his training as crown prince to keep his scent under control, and it just stuck all these years.

Xie Lian loves the way Hua Cheng's scent will sour when he gets jealous annoyed with other people for bothering them. Xie Lian will be cooking a meal for them, and Fu Yao and Nan Feng will make a random appearance, making Hua Cheng's cherry scent go from overly sweet to sour in a matter of seconds.

"Ugh! What the hell are you cooking? It smells rancid." And the whole time it's just Hua Cheng's scent.

That comment causes Hua Cheng's scent to sour even more, and he'll growl out, "If you hate it so bad, maybe you should leave."

And Fu Yao will groan and be like, "What is /he/ doing here?"

"If you have a problem with me being here, again, maybe you should leave. I was here first."

Nan Feng will cut in with a, "You're always with the Crown Prince. Should we be worried about your intentions with him? You are an alpha after all."

Hua Cheng will growl and stand up, and Xie Lian will release his flowery scent, placing a hand on Hua Cheng's stomach, holding him back.

"Nan Feng, that was unnecessary. San Lang has no strange intentions with me. We are friends and he enjoys hanging around me. If you guys are here to cause trouble with San Lang you can leave." And Hua Cheng's cherry scent will turn sickly sweet as he preens under Xie Lian's attention, leaning into his hand. It's at that moment that Fu Yao and Nan Feng realize the "rancid" smell was actually Hua Cheng's scent and they decide to take their leave immediately.

What kind of alpha just lets their scent leak out like that? Especially around an omega? Especially around the crown prince???

Xie Lian especially loves Hua Cheng's scent during his ruts. The smell of ripe cherries, ready to be picked, or in Hua Cheng's case, ready to breed. His scent drives Xie Lian wild.

The craziest thing about Hua Cheng is that he's a submissive little sweetheart during his ruts. Crying and begging his Gege to take control. Xie Lian will ride Hua Cheng, choking him, high off his scent. Hua Cheng will mount Xie Lian, crying and begging him to, "Gege, gege, please! Gege let me knot you! Please, please, please Gege!" And sometimes Hua Cheng will let Xie Lian mount him.

"Useless alpha. Letting an omega fuck you stupid during your rut. How pathetic. What would everyone say if they saw us?" Xie Lian will yank Hua Cheng back by his hair, pressing his lips to Hua Cheng's ear. "Their cold, ruthless Ghost King. Their feared alpha, crying on an omega's cock. Not just any omega either. A useless trash collecting God. What do you think they'd say? They'd call you a pathetic. Little. Bitch." And each word would be punctuated with a harsh thrust, Hua Cheng crying out. Hua Cheng's knot will form, and he'll cry out, "Knot, knot, knot!" And Xie Lian will just smack his ass, his other hand reaching out and just squeezing Hua Cheng's knot tightly.

"Stupid alpha. Knotting the air." He'll laugh meanly and squeeze the knot tighter, and Hua Cheng will just let out a weak moan as he releases all over the bed, the feeling of him squeezing around Xie Lian tipping him over the edge, causing Xie Lian to fill him.

Once Hua Cheng's rut ends and Xie Lian is down from his high, he'll apologize profusely for his behavior, saying he didn't know what came over him and he didn't mean any of what he said.

"You're not useless, pathetic, or stupid. San Lang, you are beautiful and smart, and the most perfect alpha ever." And Hua Cheng will blush, his cherry scent going all sweet and he'll reply with a, "It's okay Gege, I liked it a lot. You can be as mean as you want to me." And for a second Xie Lian's scent will slip up smelling like fresh flowers, before he gets it under control again. Hua Cheng feels very happy that day. He got his precious gege to let his guard slip and let his emotions show through his scent, and he won't ever forget this day.

Hua Cheng always gets embarrassed that he can't really control his scent around his gege sometimes, especially when they're around the residents of the Ghost City or other heavenly officials, but Xie Lian is always quick to reassure him that he's fine. "Those other people don't matter and I love your scent." So Hua Cheng says fuck it to the world and lets his scent go crazy around his precious gege. Xie Lian doesn't care, so why should he?

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Under foot

*Warning content mature for physical confrontation in story do not attempt in reality*

Someone should have warned him. Honestly? You thought someone had by now, and he was just ignoring the rumors. But really now, he was asking for it. If it didn't come from you, you were sure someone else would have done it.

Nobody scares your son and gets away with it. And how dare this mutt even think of telling your little Ray of Sunshine that he doesn't belong here when clearly he is thriving. How was this flea bag even related to a pedigree of Kalego-Sans caliber?

You stared down at the demon that you had just bitch-slapped to the ground. You won't apologize he was upsetting iruma and your poor baby looked close to a panic attack! You stood your ground and kept yourself in front of iruma just in case.

"It seems to me that you're the one who doesn't quite understand their place. You must have very low self-esteem if scaring a child makes you feel high and mighty." The cold tone, much like the echoed song of your slap, had the entire rooms attention.

"I don't want to hear that coming from an unrank-" another slap knocked him over before he could even try to climb back up on whatever high horse he rode in here with. You spotted a trickle of blood run down his cheek, and you buzzed with glee inside.

"Regardless of if I am or without a rank, do you honestly think that I would let you get away with threatening my child?" You examine your nails for a moment letting out a soft tsk when you spotted a chip in the perfect manicure Opera had given you for tonight.

"Frankly, I don't give a shit about who you are. I made a promise to my child from day one that I would protect them. You've made yourself a threat. It's sad to see that one who is a candidate for the 13 crowns is a mannerless dog."

You had been excited to meet the brother Kalego-San had spoken highly of, but meeting him like this, you knew Kalego-Sans opinion was unfortunately biased. He tried to push himself up, but you weren't done yet. Jamming your heeled shoe right into his calf, he grunted in pain. Mentally, you thanked Opera for convincing you to wear stilettos instead of the normal wedged shoes you would grab for height.

He snarled at you and tried to scare you with his magic. A large black wolf with 3 eyes and multiple tails. The beast imitated it's masters displeasure and growled deeply. It was scary you'd give it that 7/10 on the whole it'll eat me alive bit. But iruma being hurt or scared was far more terrifying to you.

Looking it up and down, you feigned disinterest. "Practically foaming at the mouth. A rabid beast with a moronic and tactless master." The dry monotone seemed to confuse all those watching. How could you be so calm?

Taking a small breath, you locked eyes with the animal. It was a battle of wills. And you were not willing to lose when you had iruma shaking behind you. Your baby came first, not you. So you weren't going to turn tail.

Twisting your foot deeper into your prey you grasped Fenrir's ear and also held it in a tight pinch he was not getting up or escaping anytime soon you noted from the painfull hiss you heard escape his lips. Oh, right, demons' ears were far more sensitive. You noted before brushing off the thought with a he'll live. 'For now.' A dark and twisted part of you agreed.

The wolf seemed conflicted as it watched you manhandled its owner. Though like a loyal dog, it did try baring its fangs at you. You bared your own teeth and let out a guttural snarl. You weren't certain if animal noises from Earth translated to those in Hell, but you hoped the message was still clear. 'Back off mutt.'

Its ears immediately flattened, and it let out a whine of sorts before disappearing. Glancing down, you saw Fenrir looking at you in what you could only describe as pure shock. Clearly, no one had been able to do that before. Good.

"See, even your little puppy knows when to submit to the alpha of the pack." You released his ear but did not ease your foot. Looming over him, you carefully stroaked the scratches you had landed on his face. He winced as you started applying pressure to the wound.

"You think you're superior? I literally have you under foot. I thought those of you on the border patrol were taught not to underestimate your enemy?" Tilting your head back, you glanced over at iruma just a quick check. He had stopped shaking and was looking at you in amazement.

You knew why. The entire course of your actions screamed that 'I belong here'. And if you who had less magic and no physical strength could walk amongst demons and go toe to toe with them, it was saying so could he and his ideals. You gave him a quick smile before returning your gaze to your current headache.

You had an entire room full of demons watching, and of course, you had a role to finish. Acting out the role of Irumas enraged parent was easy. Took absolutely no effort on your part cause you were actually that pissed. But being Sullivan's child, you had to show a bit of class.

You were among high society in the demon world, after all, for a party for the newest members of the 13 crowns. And you had one of the candidates under your heeled boots injured and awaiting your next move. The crowd mermered most in fascination of your control over not only the situation but the room itself.

It was as though you were holding trial over a convicted criminal. Or a ruler holding court and about to perform an execution. Finally removing your hand, you showed him your palm stained with his own blood. A vicious and cunning smile painted your face. Leaning closer, you allowed the weight of your body to press into his leg, allowing him to feel more pain from your actions.

And as he tried to hold back any sounds of discomfort and erase any traces of pain from his face, you started to whisper in his ears. "I know exactly who you are, Naberius Narnia, and I know you know what I am." His body stiffened immediately, seeming to realize how much trouble he was actually in with you.

"Don't you think it's funny? That demons needed to be the ones to leave instead of humans. I do." You purred into his ear, watching him twitch. "It's so cute how one thinks it was for the safety of humans that demon kind left!" Leaning back, you began to ease your foot off him.

"The reality of the matter is demons like you got scared of ones like me. Ones who just charge in blindly uncaring of the odds against them. Humans can be more frightening than demons when they want something." Your voice still low and hushed almost seductive.

"I don't care what you're planning. You could flip Hell upside-down for all I care. But if you try to drag my son into whatever game you are playing, just know this. You will meet your end by my hand. You will watch as I rip your wings off so you can't fly away. You will see me slowly skin you inch by inch. Your eyes will be my new earrings watching each bit of horror I wreak on you."

Standing at full height, you smirked down at him, confidence oozing out of you as you looked at the once proud alpha reduced to a quivering omega. Once more, you showed him your blood-stained palm. The madness seeping through your eyes, and you voice loud enough for the room to hear now.

"I do believe we've made quite the scene. It would be a shame for this party to be ruined by some... disagreement of opinions. I'm certain you've learned to be more mindful of your words, especially around children. They are impressionable."

The unspoken warning rang throughout the ballroom. Bowing his head lowly at you. "Thank you for imparting your wisdom on me. It was... enlightening." He remained on the floor, not daring to move. "And?"

Licking his lips, he lowered himself further down. "I apologize to both you and your son for my brazen behavior. You are correct, I acted out of line. And for that I am sorry." You tilted your head and hummed as if debating on if the apology had been to your liking.

"Thank you, we accept your apology." Iruma nervously spoke from behind you. You clapped your hands together cheerfully. "I'm so glad that's settled! Now run along doggy and go wash up." Waving the vile demon away from you, you watched as he quickly slipped out of the room. Only when he had disappeared behind the doors did you turn to face your son.

"Thank you for keeping our promise." Iruma said, smiling peacefully now that everything was over. "I intend to keep it with my dying breath." You told him before ruffling his hair. "Ugh, I'm hungry. Let's eat!" You quickly guided him to one of the nearby tables to stack countless items on your plates.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Timeless - Peter Parker

A/N: Hello! Long time no see. Trying to get back into writing and was struck with the idea of creating fics inspired by Taylor Swift's work; however, that is a ginormous task. But in this thought process I was inspired to write this story. So alas, I present my first Taylor inspired fic. Who knows if or when they'll be more, but I hope you enjoy!

TS Prompt #1: Timeless (Taylor's Version)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Word Count: 2.4k Synopsis: Peter and the reader fall into different love stories as they enter an antique shop.

Fall hits New York the same every year. Starbucks releases their pumpkin spice menu, the general public complain that it's too soon, and a week later colds and sweaters are no longer so far fetched. Central Park, once so green and full of life, turns dead and brown. There are fewer people on the street, or maybe it just seems so because they now huddle into one big mass to fight off the wind from the Hudson.

September 3rd, and you are tugging on a sweater you hadn't expected to use for weeks.

With the coming of fall also comes a new semester of college. A new year of classes, friends you'll only know for those four months, and long commutes to campus.

You take a glance in the mirror and brush back a stray strand of hair. As you check yourself over one last time, your phone buzzes on the counter next to you.

Peter: Coffee in hand, 3 minutes away.

You rush out of the bathroom, knocking the curling iron onto the floor, and tug on your shoes. Living on the thirteenth floor, it would take you almost three minutes just to get down to the lobby.

Hauling your back-pack over your shoulder, you blow a kiss to your cat and lock the door behind you.

Peter is walking to the front door as you come out of the stairwell. He smiles at you, holding out your coffee order.

"Hey," you say, a little out of breath. You lean in for a quick kiss and fall into pace together. "Thank you."

"Anytime. I figured coffee might make the first day back easier. Is that a new sweater?"

"It is. And it did," you say, taking a greedy sip of your drink. "What's your schedule looking like?"

"Nothing until 10, but then back to back classes. You?"

"I have a break around noon, but start first thing this morning."

"Excited?"

"I am," you said, looking at him. He smiles softly and takes your hand in his. "I like the first day - yeah there's nerves, but it's also full of new beginnings and hope."

"Including a new route," he says as you turn two blocks earlier than usual.

"My first class is on the far side of campus, this is a shortcut. You know, if your classes don't start until 10, you don't have to be here."

"I know," he says, smiling again. "And I can't promise that I will meet you every day at 8 to walk you to your class, but I'm happy to do it this morning."

"Walking me to class on my first day like a parent?" you ask with a laugh.

"Yes, and make sure you don't get to running away before I get that first day of school picture. I want it for our Christmas cards."

You're laughing as a window display catches your eye.

Timeless, the display reads, in large print newspaper clippings. The individually cut letters would typically look a little serial killer-y, but the shop had arranged a tsunami of old photos around it, making it look like a moment ripped out of time.

As Peter stops next to you, you realize the common theme of the display. In each photo, whether it's from the early 2000s or the 1930s, there is a couple in love. A woman with long hair and bellbottoms looks lovingly up at a man with a long beard and mustache strumming a ukulele. Christmas morning 1994, a man grins lovingly at his partner as he opens his PlayStation. Wedding dresses with big 80s sleeves, tea length gowns of the 1950s, and dancers in colorful geometric prints, all gazed back at the couple looking eagerly into the window.

"Let's go in," you say, practically subconciously.

"Aren't you worried you'll be late on your first day?"

"Aww, who gives a damn about ice breaker games?" you ask as you push open the door to the antique shop, the bell ringing in welcome. An old man at the register nods at the two of you, then goes back to his books.

"Look at all of these," you say, taking in the endless displays around you. The Timeless theme follows you inside. Not only do old photos cover every inch of the shop, but so do letters close to crumbling, porcelain trinket boxes that hold vintage rings, and clothes from every era imaginable.

"I wonder how long it took to collect all of this."

"Many, many years." You both jump as the man from behind the counter is now next to you. He holds a cane in one hand and his glasses in the other. "I've been working on this collection my whole life."

"It's incredible," you say with a smile. "Is it all for sale?"

"Most of it. Some of the pieces are from my own life that I won't part with. Did you notice the wedding picture in the window, bottom left corner?" he asks. You glance back towards the window and the shop owner laughs. "Of course you didn't. You could stare at it all day and still find new things. I do each day.

"Anyways, that's mine. Taken 40 years ago when I married my wife, Marjorie, right here in Queens. Don't believe I'll be parting with that any time soon. Just completes the collection.

"Well, look around the shop and let me know if you have any questions."

"Thank you," you both call as he makes his way back to the register. You exchange an amazed look with Peter.

"This is definitely worth missing ice breaker questions," he says. You laugh and lean up to kiss his cheek.

"I can't miss everything, but I think a few minutes in here are worth the delay."

You stroll away from him - both of your attentions caught by separate corners of the store. Peter wanders over to the small record section, the wall covered in Elvis posters, women draped effortlessly from his arms.

You decide to take a look at more of the photos. There are boxes upon boxes that look as if they haven't been opened in fifty years. There is no chance that even a third of them could fit on the walls of the shop.

You pick a box at random - a red photo box with a few scrapes along the side. Even looking through just the photos in this box would take hours. Thumbing through them, one catches on your thumb.

You pull it out and find a scene so familiar but unique all its own. Like the famous photo you saw in nearly every history class, a soldier kisses a woman in the 1940s. The streets around them are crowded, with other couples out of view embracing just the same.

The scene before you is a celebration and as you look at it closer, hoping to take in each and every detail, slowly the man's features shift to Peter's. No longer does the man have black hair. No longer is the woman he kissing the woman you first saw, she now looks just like you.

The streets are crowded. With trembling hands holding a small stack of letters, you look through the crowd, craning your neck to catch just one glimpse of him. All around you, loved ones are reuniting. Mothers are kissing their sons' foreheads. Women weep as they fall into the arms of their love.

Just as panic starts to grow inside you that maybe he's not back, that your prayers have not been answered, you see him. His brown hair is shining in the sun, his hat in his hands. His eyes, so full of hope, scan the crowd.

You cannot help the swell of emotions that come over you as you rush towards him. You knock elbows, mutter apologizes to the crowd as you make your way towards him. A few steps away, Peter sees you, too.

His smile grows into the breathtaking grin you love and missed so dearly, and before you can even process that he's safe, that he's home, you are crashing into his arms and his hands are in your hair.

You are melting in his touch as he kisses you. The long years of the war, the years of worrying, years of fearing every knock at the door, years of just one page of his words every few months, all slip away as the two of you come together.

His lips feel the same, which is somehow odd. How could all the years and all the changes you had both been through left this the same? Left this passion, this connection the same?

"Oh, I've missed you," he says, pulling away for air. You grin at him and kiss him again. Once, twice, three times until you are wrapped up in each other's arms again.

"Find anything good?"

Peter's voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Your pulse fluttering as if you truly were the women getting kissed in the photo, you show Peter what gripped your attention. He smiles and takes it gently from your hand. He looks at the inscription on the back you hadn't noticed.

"James and Dottie, 1944."

"It looks so much like that one we saw in school, but look at all of the people around them."

"So much love," he says, almost to himself. Your eyes meet and for some reason a slight blush covers your cheeks as you smile. The intensity of his stare becomes too much and you make your way down another aisle of the shop.

The shelves around you are full of books, some titles you recognize, some you don't, and some are so worn you wouldn't be able to even if it was your favorite. Once again, one stands out to you more than the others.

Half hanging off the shelf, a deep purple book draws you in. You take it off the shelf in a small cloud of dust. The inside of the cover reveals it is a romance, although that doesn't come as a surprise. You read at a whisper, "In the 1500s off in a foreign land, I am forced to marry another man . . ."

The walls surrounding you are tall and cold, the stone masonry reflecting the feeling in your chest. The white gown that drapes along your frame feels as heavy as chains.

At the end of this death march, the doors open upon a crowd full of people, your people, all dressed for the occasion. And there, at the end of the aisle is your betrothed.

But that man is not Peter.

The figure walking you down the aisle tries to usher you along when you come to a stop. Anxious eyes all around look at your frozen form..

"I can't do this."

The shock of what you've said gives your escort pause and you slip your arm away from his. Discarding the bouquet of roses, you take off back up the hallway.

Shouts follow as you run, gathering the skirts of your gown up in your hands, but you don't stop. Guards at the entrance of the castle reach for you, but guided by your heart, you are too quick for them.

The sun is shining when you break out of the castle, but you keep going. You go until your heart is thundering, your breathing comes fast, and Peter's cottage is in sight.

Even after the turmoil you experienced, just the sight of his home soothes you. You take a few steps up to his door and he opens it just as you raise your hand to knock.

"What are you--"

"I couldn't go through with it. I don't love him," you say. Peter lets out a surprised laugh, shaking his head gently.

"We talked about this. They'll come looking for you, Y/N."

"Then we'll run," you say, taking his hand in yours. "I don't care if we spend the rest of our days running, I prefer that to a life of luxury with someone I don't love."

"You mean it?'

"Yes."

"Then I'll keep you safe. For every second that we are together, for every moment that you are mine, I'll make sure no harm comes to you. I can't promise you riches, but you'll be safe."

"I gladly leave that all behind for you," you say. Peter is smiling as he closes the gap between you, his hands cupping your face as you melt into his touch.

You close the book with a secret smile and slip it back onto the shelf.

You know that you should leave, you are at least ten minutes late to class, and a few minutes walk from campus. But the shop has captured your heart, the stories embedded inside have.

"Y/N," Peter calls. You make your way towards his voice and as you do you pass more relics of the past. A photo of a 30's bride, high school sweethearts sitting on the porch of their first home, a young couple on the way to a dance.

"Hey."

"Hey, we should probably get going don't you think? You don't want to miss more of your first day."

"They are important," you say absentmindedly. Maybe it was because you had just slipped into fake memories, or maybe it was the fact that it was the first day of the semester, but looking at Peter, his hair mussed in a way that can only come from styling, a soft smile on his face, you were transported to the first day you met.

In a crowded room a few short years ago, on another September morning, first day of school, you lay eyes on Peter for the first time. Your fellow classmates are introducing themselves, the room filled with a dull hum of discussion, but your eyes only lock with his.

He smiles at you and moves your way. He holds out his hand and tells you his name, and somehow, you just knww. There's not always proof, there's not always a war or an arranged marriage. Sometimes, you just know.

"Yeah we should go," you agree. Peter leads the way to the door and holds it open for you. "I love you," you say, softly, and for the first time.

"I love you."

The temperature had risen since you entered the shop, but nevertheless, as you fall back into step together, Peter's arm is around yours and you know that one day, you'll have photos of the life you'll make, just like the ones in the shop.

[peachblossom-odyssey]

So I am in love with and obsessed with your works, "How Familiar the Danger". So much so I have been reading it to my friend like an audiobook. Each work is compelling and passionate and thoroughly enjoyable. Then my heart sank when I realized it hasnt been updated since last August. Is there any hope for future updates? Do you have other plans for the story? Has it been dropped all together? If so I understand, but I think its just amazing and thank you for writing it in the first place.

Thank you, I’m so happy to hear you like it! It really does my heart good, thank you for making my day! Unfortunately my fixation on Nimona has faded right now and I’m focusing on another series atm, so as of right now I don’t plan to update anytime soon, but that will probably change if the fixation returns because I do love that au and I’m proud of it and would like to write Ballister meeting Ambrosius’ parents and Nimon meeting Ambrosius and all that. I have a half-written wip for the next chapter but the motivation isn’t there. All I can offer rn is a snippet from Nimona’s pov if that’s alright.

—

Then he kissed her Boss.

He kissed her Boss.

That motherfucker.

She couldn’t let that stand, she couldn’t let this happen, not now when the Boss’ health was so precarious and his heart was so fragile. Whatever the knight was planning, whatever sick game he was playing with Ballister’s feelings, she was putting a stop to it here and now. She struck, shifting into a coiling viper to leap onto the bed and sink her teeth into his wrist with a hiss of utter fury, forcing him to release her Boss with a sharp cry of pain.

“Nimona!?” Ballister yelped as the knight practically fell off the couch, twisting and jerking to try and wrench Nimona off of him, only to go prey-still when she reverted to her humanoid form, kneeling on his chest with murder in her eyes as she hissed down at him, her tongue still forked and serpentine as it flicked between her fangs.

“Stay the fuck away from him.” she growled, “You hear me, creep? Get the fuck out of our house now!”

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (30/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 4559

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Arianwyn is summoned to the Queen's chambers to fulfill a promise she made to Prince Jaehaerys.

Warnings: None

Author's Note: 30 chapters!!! And this pushes me over the 100,000 word mark! I honestly never expected this, but I still have so much more to go, and I'm not stopping anytime soon!

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99 @dc-marvel-girl96 @henriettadreaming @multiple-fandoms-girl @gyuxmilk @somemydayy @kittykylax @whore-of-many-hot-men

(Please let me know if your tag isn't working, and I'll do my best to correct it! And if you would like to be added to the list, just shoot me an ask!)

Storytime

They stayed in each other’s arms in the bath until the water had long gone cold, and Kiran begged them through the door to get out. 

“Please, my Prince,” he said. “It is not good for the skin to let it wrinkle.” 

Aemond laughed into his wife’s ear as he ran a teasing finger from the base of her throat to her navel. “Well, I certainly would never do anything to harm this exquisite skin, now would I?” 

“Careful,” Arianwyn warned, though she arched into his touch. “Kiran is right outside the door. We don’t want him to hear anything that would disturb his innocent mind, surely.” 

“Only two days ago, you were far more innocent than him, Aria,” he said as he retrieved a cloth from the table next to the tub and lifted her off his chest. 

He helped her stand and exit the tub, taking his time drying her skin as he found himself frequently distracted by kissing her shoulders and nipping at her neck. She laughed at his every touch, the sound echoing off the bathing chamber’s stone walls. 

“My Prince… should I go?” came Kiran’s timid voice from the other side of the door. 

The Prince and Princess broke from their embrace to shout in unison: “Yes!” 

- 

The young handmaiden Elsie Granes had been relieved from her service to the Queen to assist Arianwyn while Brynna healed from her wounds.  

Alicent had, of course, asked the elder maid for approval first. But after she was told that it was Elsie who had helped her Lady’s hair look so beautiful the previous day, she gave her enthusiastic permission. With the caveat that, as soon as Orwyle released her from his tower, she would give the young girl “proper” instruction on how to care for Arianwyn. 

For now, Elsie was left to tend to the newest Targaryen Princess by herself, her small hands trembling slightly as she combed more of the salve Baela had given her through her new Lady’s hair. 

“There is no need to be nervous,” Arianwyn said, watching the girl through the vanity mirror. “You did a wonderful job yesterday. I’m sure you can do the same today.” 

Elsie smiled, brushing a lock of her chestnut hair aside so she could look the Princess in the eye. “Thank you, your Highness. I apologize.” 

At that, Arianwyn laughed. “There is even less need to apologize than there is to be nervous, I promise.” 

Finally starting to feel at ease at the sight of the Princess’ bright smile, the handmaid continued twisting each white curl into place. “I am very grateful for this opportunity, your Highness. I have already been able to do so much more for you than I ever did for the Queen. In her service, my duties were limited to silly little things like polishing jewelry and replacing broken laces.” 

Arianwyn flinched slightly. “Yes, about broken laces…” 

- 

Though an invitation came from the Queen for the young couple to dine with the rest of the family, they declined in favor of spending more time together, just the two of them. So their meals were brought to their rooms, and once they had eaten their fill, they retired to the couch by the fire. 

While Aemond had initially sat as a well-mannered Prince was expected to – with a straight back and both feet planted firmly on the ground – he allowed himself to relax at Arianwyn’s insistence. It was not long before he had discarded his boots and reclined across the couch with his little wife curled in his arms, again tracing Runes on his chest. 

It was in this position that Ser Criston Cole found them as he arrived to deliver a message from the Queen. 

“She has requested your presence in her chambers, Princess,” he said, bowing to hide his proud smile at the relaxed state of the usually tense Prince. “The Princess Helaena and her children always visit her at this time, and she was quite eager that you join them.” 

Arianwyn let her head fall against Aemond’s shoulder as he withdrew his arms from around her waist. It had to be a sin to leave such a comfortable position. “Must I?” 

“This morning, you said you could not disobey the wishes of a Queen,” Aemond answered. 

She whined as he brought them both up to a proper sitting position. “This Queen cannot breathe fire, or eat me.” 

Aemond laughed as he rubbed her back. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” 

“If I may,” Ser Criston offered, stepping forward to help the Princess stand. “Prince Jaehaerys also asked that I tell you – and these are his exact words – that “you promised to read us a story, and if you break that promise, I shall never forgive you.’ He also asked that I make a face to show you how serious he was, but I would rather not do so, if you would permit me.” 

“No, I should like to see this face,” Arianwyn said through an impish grin, though Aemond tugged on her shoulder as he stood to try and silence her. 

“But we would never ask you to do something so undignified, would we?” Aemond scolded, more to his wife than the knight. She only smiled wider, leaning back to bump into him in acquiescence. He caught her waist, pulling her in for a kiss on the head before pushing her gently toward the new bookshelf. “Go on, my love, pick a story.” 

“What kind of stories does Jaehaerys like?” she asked as she began to peruse the shelves. 

Ser Criston came to stand behind her, retrieving several books from the higher shelves whenever she pointed to them. “He often speaks of a story the King told him,” he said, “of his namesake, King Jaehaerys, when he flew north of the Wall and fought the giants, wildlings, and other creatures that dwell there.” 

Arianwyn whipped around to face Aemond, who leaned against the back of the couch, watching with amusement as she struggled to carry the dozen books she had already selected. At the question in her eyes, he shook his head. “The King made it up. Jaehaerys wanted to know about the man he was named for, but he would not have been so enthralled by stories of an old man sitting in council meetings.” 

“So, he likes adventure stories?�� she asked, handing several of her books back to Ser Criston to put away. 

Aemond shrugged. “He likes simple stories. A hero defeats an evil monster and has a happy ending. If there’s a dragon, all the better.” 

“‘Simple’ is just a nice word for ‘boring,’” Arianwyn said with a frown. She handed the rest of her assembled tomes to Ser Criston and instead retrieved a single, slim book from the bottom shelf. 

It was one of the first books her cousin had ever given her, a little book of fairy tales from the First Men. They were not always happy, not like Valyrian stories. But she always liked them anyway, for these stories had always made her think. None of the tales within this book were ‘simple.’ 

When she turned to leave, Aemond recognized the book. He had never liked it as much as she did. The tales it told were too dark and often left him feeling sad and somewhat empty. They contained far too much truth to really be called fairy tales. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, flicking his eye to the slim brown book. 

She only held the book tighter to her chest and smiled. “He wants a story, so I will give him one.” 

- 

From the moment she entered the Queen’s parlor, Jaehaerys was nipping at Arianwyn’s heels and pulling at her skirts to get her to sit down and read. Alicent tried to get him to settle down so the adults could converse, but the little Prince was insatiable. At last, the Queen gave in and gathered everyone to listen.  

Arianwyn was seated in an oversized wingback chair, Helaena on the couch beside her, with young Viserys slowly falling asleep on her lap. Alicent sat on the plush green rug before them, holding Jaehaerys against her chest while Jaehaera leaned against the couch, carefully rearranging her doll’s hair to better match Arianwyn’s curls. 

“Are you ready?” Arianwyn asked, raising her brows to her over-excited nephew. 

“Yes!” he shouted. “Read, read, read!” 

With a smile, Arianwyn began: 

“Many thousands of years ago, when the Long Night still lived in the memories of man, there lived a little girl named Rowan. 

Rowan lived in a small village, the name of which has long been forgotten, in the woods just south of the Wall. Every morning, from a small round window in her parent’s cottage, she watched the sun rise, and paint the white ice of the wall in a hundred different colors. 

For despite living in a small, nameless village, Rowan was a special little girl. She possessed an ability that few, even those who do not live in small, nameless villages, possess. 

Rowan could find beauty anywhere and everywhere she looked. 

Many in the village, who were not special, resented Rowan for her extraordinary ability. They envied her. For where they saw only endless white in the fields of snow, she saw boundless beauty reflected off of each snowflake.” 

- 

“Snow isn’t that pretty!” Jaehaerys exclaimed. 

Alicent scoffed. “When have you ever seen snow?” 

“Well, I haven’t,” he admitted, fiddling with the laces of his shirt. “But I know it’s white!” 

“And so is your hair,” Arianwyn said, leaning down to ruffle his messy waves. “But is your hair not pretty?” 

He blushed under the compliment and settled down enough for her to continue the story. 

- 

“There was one in her village who did not resent Rowan, but admired her: the village Wise Woman. Though her name has too, been lost to time, her gift has not. She so admired Rowan’s ability, and how kind and joyful it had made the little girl, that she wanted to make her something so beautiful that everyone would see. 

The Wise Woman spent an entire year gathering the bright red berries that grew in the woods surrounding the village. Once she had several baskets full of dried berries, she made the richest red dye the world had ever seen. She soaked the best wool she could find in her dye, until it, too, was a brighter red than even the freshest blood. 

And with this wool, she made a cloak so fine that any Queen in the world would have gone to war to wear it only once. But this cloak was not meant for a Queen, or a Princess, or even a Lady. It was meant only for Rowan. 

Rowan was so delighted by the gift. At last, the whole village could see something the same way she did. Every day that followed, she wore her beautiful cloak.” 

- 

“Can I have a cloak like that?” Jaehaerys whispered to his grandmother. 

“Of course, my sweet,” she answered. “For your next nameday, I promise.” 

- 

“One day in the middle of the next winter, Rowan was out in the woods gathering snowdrops when she heard a sound like a sad song. Pulling her red cloak tight around her, she followed the noise through the forest until she found from whom it came. 

A Child of the Forest lay beneath a tree, surrounded by the small creatures of the forest. A squirrel laid a pile of nuts beside it, squeaking to encourage the Child to eat. Several birds flitted around its hair, weaving leaves and flowers into its braid. One of the birds took a snowdrop from Rowan’s basket and tucked it behind the Child’s ear. A snowy fox wrapped around its small throat like a scarf, attempting to keep it warm. 

The animals were all trying to help, for the Child was dying. A trail of red blood stained the snow leading to the tree beneath which it lay. 

“Are you friends with the Wolf?” 

Rowan had never met a Child of the Forest before, much less hear one speak. The tongue of the First Men did not suit its lyrical voice, its words sounding like the song of a broken flute. 

“I have never met a Wolf. Was it a Wolf who has done this?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why would a Wolf harm you? The Children are friends to all who live in the forests.” 

“This Wolf is not of our forests.” 

“Where would a Wolf be from, if not the forests?” 

“I do not know. But this Wolf is no friend of mine. He has not only killed me but stolen from me.” 

“What did he steal?” 

“Supplies. For your Men at the Wall. It was my duty to fulfill the Children’s obligations from the Pact. Now I have failed.” 

Rowan knelt by the Child, taking its small hand in hers. Its voice was fading, and she did not want it to die alone. 

“You have not failed. An attack from a Wolf is not something you could have foreseen.” 

“But it is, little red one. And now my mission shall never be complete. The Pact shall fall, and our peoples will be once again at war.” 

Rowan had never seen war. But she had heard the stories from the elders in her village, and she knew that even she would not be able to find beauty in a time of war. 

“I will complete your mission for you. Can you tell me where the Wolf went?” 

“I cannot send you to your death, girl.” 

“I will not die. I am of the First Men. I carry a blade, and I know how to use it.” 

“He is no ordinary Wolf.” 

“I am no ordinary girl.” 

The Child smiled, looking at Rowan with its large golden eyes. She saw so much beauty in those eyes. It broke her heart to watch their light fade. 

“The Wolf went south. His paws are large, he has left a trail.” 

“I will follow it.” 

“Not yet, little red one. Stay with me, until I am gone.” 

“It would be my honor.” 

So Rowan stayed, holding the Child’s hand until it had passed from the world. Even after it closed its eyes, and its bark-like skin had gone cold, she stayed until she had made each creature promise to bury it with all the respect it was due.” 

- 

“I don’t think I like this story,” Jaehaerys whined. “It’s sad.” 

“Don’t fret, darling,” his mother assured. “There may be a happy ending yet.” 

- 

The Child had been right, the Wolf’s paws were massive. Rowan could fit each of her feet inside a single pawprint. For the first time in her life, she wished she had worn something not quite so beautiful. Not quite so easily seen. 

“That is a beautiful cloak, little girl.” 

The Wolf’s voice was deep as it echoed through the trees. Even in the snow of the North, it chilled Rowan’s blood. Ever a polite little girl, she bowed to him, through she gripped her knife tight beneath her cloak. 

- 

“Wolves can’t talk!” Jaehaerys shouted, once again breaking everyone from the story. 

Arianwyn reached down to tap his nose. “This one can.” 

“But why?” he cried, the very picture of impatience. 

Alicent pulled her grandson closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around him to keep him in place. “If you let Aria finish the story,” she whispered, “I suspect you might find out.” 

Jaehaerys whipped his head back to his aunt, eyes wide with anticipation. “Keep reading, Aria!” 

She smiled and nodded before turning back to her book. “As you wish, my little Prince.” 

- 

“You are a beautiful Wolf.” 

It was not a lie. The Wolf was beautiful. He was as large as a draft horse, with eyes as white as snow and fur as red as Rowan’s cloak. But the Wolf was not moved by her kindness. 

“What is such a little girl doing in the forest all by herself, and with blood on her beautiful cloak?” 

Rowan had not noticed that the blood of the Child had stained the hem of her cloak, for it was not as bright a red as the wool. Indeed, even after the Wolf told her, she could not find the stain. But she knew it was there, for the Wolf had said so, and Wolves could smell blood. 

“I am collecting snowdrops to bring back to my village, so the people there can have some beauty.” 

“Beauty in the middle of winter is a rare thing.” 

“Not if you know to look for it.” 

“You are an interesting little girl. It is almost a shame that I must eat you.” 

Rowan slowly drew her knife, though she kept it hidden beneath her cloak. 

“Why must you eat me?” 

“Because I am a Wolf. And Wolves eat little girls.” 

“Wolves do not kill Children of the Forest. But you did that anyhow.” 

“I am no ordinary Wolf.” 

“I am no ordinary girl.” 

The Wolf took a step toward her and growled. 

“Indeed you are not.” 

“Give me what you stole from the Child, and we can both go on our way.” 

“What would you give me in exchange?” 

“You want me to trade for something you stole?” 

“I do.” 

“That is not very honorable.” 

“Neither am I.” 

“Very well. Would you like my snowdrops?” 

“I have no need of flowers.” 

“Would you like my basket?” 

“I have no need of baskets.” 

“What is a Wolf in need of?” 

“Very little.” 

Rowan realized then that the Wolf was speaking in riddles. To get an answer, she would have to ask the right questions. Thankfully, she was special. She was clever. 

“What is a Wolf in want of?” 

“Very good, little girl.” 

She could swear the Wolf had laughed. But that was impossible. Wolves do not laugh. Just as they do not kill Children of the Forest. This was no Wolf. 

“I am in want of beautiful red cloak. One to match my fur.” 

“You want my cloak.” 

“Yes.” 

Rowan did not want to give away her cloak. But she had made a promise to the Child that she would complete its mission and prevent a war. 

“Very well. May I put it on you? I do not want it to fall off and into the snow. And Wolves cannot fasten cloaks.” 

“Such a kind little girl. You may.” 

The Wolf’s mouth opened in a wicked smile as Rowan stepped toward him, showing her his many sharp teeth. She stopped at his side, her fingers hovering over the button of her cloak. 

“You must tell me where the items you stole from the Child are first.” 

“And why must I do that?” 

“So that if you run away the moment I give you cloak, I still receive my reward.” 

“Clever, kind, little girl. You will find the Child’s bundle beneath the winter plum tree. Now give me my cloak.” 

“Thank you, Mister Wolf.” 

Rowan unfastened her cloak. And as it fell to the snow, she drove her knife upwards and into the Wolf’s neck, spilling its bright blood onto the snow, onto her basket of snowdrops, and onto her beautiful red cloak. 

When she looked back to the Wolf, he was not a Wolf. He was a man, with blood on his hands and bright, beautiful red hair. A man that Rowan recognized. 

“You are from the village.” 

“I am.” 

“You killed the Child.” 

“I did.” 

“Why would you do such a horrible thing?” 

“To provoke war.” 

“War is terrible. You have heard the same stories I have. Why would you want war?” 

“So I could become a warrior, and make myself special, like you.” 

“But you are already special. No one in the village plays the flute so well as you.” 

“That is not special.” 

“It is special to me.” 

The Man Who Was The Wolf looked up at Rowan, and saw in her eyes that she spoke the truth. He was just a man with no name, from a village with no name, but in the eyes of the most special person he knew, he too, was special. 

Then the Man Who Was The Wolf died, with a smile on his face as he laid atop the beautiful red cloak. 

Rowan stayed with him until his eyes went glassy and his skin turned cold. She laid the snowdrops she had gathered, now stained with his blood, around him. For she was only a little girl, and she could not bury him on her own. 

The Child’s bundle was where he had said, beneath the winter plum tree. She strapped it to her back and carried it all the way to the Wall. 

The men of the Night’s Watch were surprised to see a girl of the First Men delivering their supplies, rather than a Child of the Forest. They wrapped her in a new cloak of thick black fur and gave her hot stew and freshly brewed ale while they listened to her story. They called her brave, and gave her a new knife from among the supplies the Children of the Forest had sent. 

When Rowan returned to the village, she did not tell them the whole of her story. To the people of the village, the Wolf was simply a wolf, and not the Man Who Was The Wolf. They wondered about where that man had gone, but soon assured themselves that he had simply gone south to make his name as a flute player. His music was dearly missed by all. 

While the Wise Woman offered to make Rowan another beautiful red cloak, the little girl declined. She did not want a cloak, or any other item for others to be jealous of. From that day forward, she only ever wore dull, ordinary clothes. For she did not need to possess beauty to help others see the it, even in the mundane. 

For even a Wolf, with blood on his claws and jealousy in his heart, could be beautiful.” 

- 

For the first time that evening, Jaehaerys was silent and still. Though, of course, it did not last long. 

He pouted as he looked up to Arianwyn, expecting more to the story. “But Mother said there would be a happy ending.” 

“I thought it was a perfectly happy ending,” Helaena whispered. 

“But the Child of the Forest died,” he shouted, ignoring his grandmother’s pleas to stay calm. “No one in the village knew she was a hero, and she didn’t get a new cloak!” 

Arianwyn closed the book, leaving it on the table beside her chair as she lowered herself to the rug. “Not every story has a happy ending, Jaehaerys.” 

“Why not?” he asked with tears in his eyes. 

Arianwyn moved closer to him and took his hand. “Can I ask you a question, Jaehaerys?” 

Shyly, he nodded. As did the Queen, who smiled as she remembered a conversation, very similar to this one, that she had with her children many years ago. 

“Rowan did not tell the village what happened,” Arianwyn spoke slowly to ensure she held the boy’s attention. “Why do you think she kept it a secret?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Try and guess.” 

“She…” he sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “She didn’t want them to know.” 

“And why wouldn’t she want them to know?” 

Jaehaerys whined, his face scrunched in anger. “Why do you keep asking me questions?” 

“Because I want you to understand,” she said, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. “Why every story cannot have a happy ending, and why it is not a bad thing.” 

He nodded, seeming to recognize that she had only good intentions. For long moments, he stared at the book on the table, thinking harder than perhaps he ever had in his short life. “The people in the village missed the wolf man’s music.” 

“They did,” Arianwyn encouraged. 

“They liked him, didn’t they?” 

“I would imagine they liked him very much for bringing them music.” 

“But they would not have liked him if they knew what he did.” 

“No, he would no longer be the man who brought them music, but the man who tried to start a war.” 

Jaehaerys considered her words carefully. When the realization dawned, his eyes lit up like a fire had been sparked inside him, and he beamed at his aunt. “She did not want them to hate him. She wanted him to be remembered as the music man, not the wolf.” 

Arianwyn nodded. “The man, and not the monster.” 

“That was very kind of her,” Jaehaerys said, taking his aunt’s hand. “He did bad things. He did not deserve her kindness.” 

“But she gave it anyway,” she squeezed his hand, causing him to giggle. “And I think that is why she is a hero, more than her killing the wolf or preventing the war. What do you think?” 

Jaehaera let out a small noise. Not a word, or a laugh, or even a cry. Just enough of a sound to draw the attention of the room to her. Her smile faded when she realized everyone was looking at her expectantly, but she looked to Arianwyn and nodded. 

“See?” Arianwyn nudged her nephew. “Your sister understands.” 

“I do too!” Jaehaerys shouted, not wanting to be left out. “I understand!” 

The women were not entirely sure he did, but he seemed to at least be trying, which was good enough for them. So they let him babble for a while about what he would do if he met a direwolf or a Child of the Forest. Eventually, he wore himself out and had to be carried back to his rooms by his nursemaid. Helaena and the other children followed, leaving Arianwyn alone with the Queen. 

They sat in comfortable silence, not entirely unlike the silence she so often shared with Aemond. But the longer they sat, the more a single question gnawed on Arianwyn’s heart until she could stay silent no longer. 

“How is the King?” she asked. 

Alicent’s soft smile fell, her face overtaken by exhaustion and grief. “He is still asleep, as he has been since he left dinner.” 

“Will he wake?” 

“On that, the Maesters cannot seem to agree,” the Queen almost laughed. “But I think I know, in my heart, that he will not.” 

“I’m sorry,” Arianwyn whispered. 

Alicent did not reply, for there were no words to express how she felt. She had loved Viserys, and she had hated him. He had made her his Queen and then abandoned her. Once, he was her entire world, and now he was dying. There was no predicting what would happen when he died. All she could do was pray that she and her children would survive. 

“May I see him?”  

The question startled Alicent. But the look in Arianwyn’s silver eyes was genuine. 

“I know he is resting,” she said, struggling to explain her desire – one she did not know she had until it had left her lips. “But I would like to talk to him, even if he cannot hear me.”  

“That is a fine sentiment, Aria,” Alicent replied, standing from the rug to offer her hand to the Princess. “Come, let us go see the King.” 

Next Chapter

[moonshine-nightlight]

Hello! I Just wanted to let you know that I LOVED the published ver. of "Don't Shoot the Messenger". And I was so excited to hear that Dale and Sana's story might get published too.

At first I was really unsure about getting the book, as I didn't want to be disappointed if the changes made didn't translate well compared to the original. BUT YOU KNOCKED MY EXPECTATIONS RIGHT OUT OF THE WATER!! IT WAS SO GOOD!!

Anyway, just wanted to let you know that I'm so excited for your future projects. And I wish you luck on your future publishing endeavours because I will be buying all future published books by you. And no one can stop me haha >:D

I also wanted to ask if there's a chance that any of your other previous works will also be published? Of course it's a huge effort of time and resources to publish something. But I do hold out hope that I might one day hold Heshi's story in my hands because truthfully it's such a comfort to me and I go back to it periodically to reread. I love that snakey boi. NO PRESSURE THO. If that's not in the cards, just the fact that it exists as a story is wonderful. Thank you so much for all the writing you do.

anyway, bye

@annjo-wolfe

hi! thanks so much! i really liked what DSM actually was and focused on my own edits and that of my editors just honing it to be the best version of itself - so i'm glad that came through and you liked it!

if ur interested in too much info about my self-publishing plans, pls see under the read more

Dale and Sana's story definitely will be self-published,its just a matter of when. it's also probably gonna get more tweaks than DSM due to the length and the way the story evolved over 2 years lol

thank you so much for your support and encouragement with publishing! i'm so happy people are excited about actually buying my stories lol

As for previous short stories that getting published, the answer is yes, i do have plans to publish them as well, they're just a lower priority for multiple reasons. firstly, me and everyone wants NWWD the most so its #1.

For 'Finally Woken' i actually already have the first 2 chapters converted to 3rd POV, however, its shorter than DSM and so would cost nearly as much to have edited but would sell for less (and amazon will try to tell me the spine is too narrow lol) so my current thoughts are to bundle it with 'Selfish' (helpfully already in 3rd person) and make a Naga Novella (called like 'Tangled Up in Tails' or something lol) with both of them in it so i can release it priced similarly to DSM.

For 'Sacrifice', i actually have plans to make that a 5 novella series about different forgotten deities returning to the same town, with 'Sacrifice' likely being offered as a cheaper, first book about a month or so before the second is published to get people into the series. the rest of the novellas would likely not go up on tumblr/AO3 at all and would only be published. i'd like to use this hypothetical series to see how that sort of model would work for me. i've planned out the 5 novellas to some extent but nothings really written yet besides 'Sacrifice'. as a complete project, its very low on my list after everything i'll b posting here and NWWD publishing, so since 'Sacrifice' is tied to that, its not likely to get published anytime soon.

For 'Snapped', i'd likely do something similar to 'Finally Woken' - write another short Sci-Fi/Alien story and bundle them together for publishing. However, i dont currently have anything written that would work so that's also a low priority evn if 'Snapped' is already 3rd POV.

I'm really excited to self-publish my work, but its expensive and what I've made from DSM has come nowhere close to covering my costs and likely won't. the only good thing is basically all the costs are up-front so its easy to jsut keep the books out there and making money when ppl buy it. i have a good job and am happy to spend my money to get my work out there and hope over time self-publishing will break-even, but that will take years at a minimum so it'll be slow going in the beginning.

my goal is to get everything self-published so it'll just be a matter of time - i too want to hold a copy of Heshi's story in my hands lol

thank you for all your support and giving me a chance to ramble about all my self-publishing plans!

[realhotgirlshitah]

Chocolate and Vanilla Swirl

Jack Champion x Fem Reader

Warnings: None just teeth rotting fluff lol. Implied black reader but not too heavily.

Synopsis: Jack’s been following you on Tiktok for a while but doesn’t expect to actually meet you when Jasmine and Mason take him out clubbing to play cupid.

You loved TikTok. It was a fun and cute app where you took every given opportunity to post your thoughts and random lil videos bc you're silly like that.

Soon enough after downloading and posting for fun you built up quite large following who found you both hilarious and amusing.

Including Jack Champion.

At the time he started following you, you weren't quite sure who he was and didn't think much of it but following the release of Avatar 2 and Scream 6, you realised that this dude was... following you, like you were followed by an actual celebrity.

However you had the attention span of a bagel and were a massive scaredy-cat so you hadn't watched either movie. So, you just carried on your merry business making TikToks that people found funny and relatable and watched your following grow from there.

One thing that you didn't like about how people viewed your content was that on TikTok, the assumption was being insanely attractive and funny were mutually exclusive. You were funny, HILARIOUS even but you were also gorgeous, it's just your personality was so big it shone through.

So when you'd post a video and get comments that said stuff like:

Why's she kinda-

Hear me out

Wait why are you low-key cute

It bristled you a little, you wanted people to stop playing in your face like that.

So one evening, while getting ready to go out clubbing with your friends, you went completely against your character by posting a thirst trap. An absolutely scrumptious one.

The outfit was cute as hell. A pink miniskirt, a cream low-cut top that made your boobs pop, some cream knee high boots and some accessories to match.

"You look so fine Y/N," your bestfriend squealed before snapping a bunch of pictures. "I would honestly kill for a body like yours!"

You grinned and threw your arms around her in excitement. "I love you so much girl, thank you for letting me borrow your boots,"

"Anytime, now let's film that TikTok!"

Jack was in London doing press for the movie Scream 6. When the cast had finished for the day, they went back to the hotel together and Jack decided to chill out with Jasmine and Mason as per usual, not to do anything but just for the company.

"Dude, you're probably in here more than I am," Mason laughed causing Jasmine to chuckle in agreement.

"I'm just so bored," Jack sighed scrolling through tiktok and flopped against the bed.

"Well since we're in the UK we could always go out tonight, giving that you're legal an all- Jack?

Jack wasn't paying attention. Because that's when he saw your TikTok.

He was speechless (for once) staring at the way your plump glossed lips moved to lip sync with the attractive sound with a smirk. The way your seductive dark eyes looked up at the camera before placing it down and showing off your outfit. The way your French curl braids bounced with every step you took backwards (your hair wasn't the only thing that bounced with each step). In short, Jack was enchanted, he'd always thought you were gorgeous, as well as funny. But in your usual videos, your intention was to get your point, or lack thereof, across, to rant, to make people laugh.

However, your intention with this video was almost to seduce the person watching. You were confidently acknowledging how attractive you were and making it known.

And boy did Jack know.

"Jack? Jack? Dude, why has that sound been playing on your phone for the last 10 minutes?" Mason walked around to the bed and caught what the brunette was watching before he could hide it. "JAS, COME LOOK AT WHO JACK HAS A CRUSH ON!" The whoop of delight that simultaneously left Jasmine and Mason's ears was almighty.

"Jack! You're into Y/N? I didn't know you were down with the swirl, somebody wants to be invited to the cookout," Jasmine smirked teasingly at him as he blushed profusely. "We're mutuals on TikTok, she's literally the sweetest! If you want I can-

"No!" Jack exclaimed. He was scared. He genuinely didn't think a bad bitch like you, who was confident and brash, not to mention intimidatingly gorgeous, would want anything to do with him. Yes, there were many many girls all over the world who would throw themselves at him but he thought you were WAY out of his league, you didn't even follow him back on TikTok! "Let's just- change the topic please?"

Mason and Jas looked at each other with a knowing glance before shrugging in unison.

"Sure little bro, like I said earlier, how about we go clubbing? I know a great one nearby and you'll be able to get in since the minimum age in the UK's 18 instead of 21," Mason smiled. "If you go get ready now, we can grab a taxi and leave in five minutes?"

Jack, who was grateful for the subject change, nodded in excitement. "Yeah, that sounds like it'll be fun, I'll go get ready,"

Before he knew it, they were at a nightclub, he had a couple shots but decided he wasn't too fond of the taste and wanted to have awareness for the entire night so stopped his drinking there. However he had enough alcohol to make him even more smiley than usual and man he wanted to hit the dance floor.

"See any girls you like, Jack? Or are you still thinking about your TikTok crush?" Mason nudged him playfully earning a laugh and shove back.

"Leave him alone, Mason, he'll find what he's looking for soon enough," Jasmine smirked.

Oh. That sounded ominous.

Jack however, was too laid back to care and decided to dance a bit, so he made his way through the crowd to find space.

That. Was when it happened.

'Movie' by Megan thee Stallion was playing, and everybody who knew you knew that was your song. You also didn't have too much to drink but enough to make you clap your hands in excitement as your body buzzed to get on the dance floor with your friends. You felt hot and the song made you feel hotter. As your body moved in sync with the music, you rapped along with the lyrics, your friends hyping you up and smacking your booty, screaming about how fine you were.

They weren't the only people who thought you were fine.

Jack had just pushed his way through the crowd and immediately his eyes were on you, absolutely enthralled, shocked and terrified. Out of all the places in London he could've gone to, it was the one you were in? He turned back to glare at Mason and Jasmine who were grinning at him and putting their thumbs up, encouraging him to say something.

They knew. It was a set up, they set him up!

He felt like his feet were stuck to the ground as he watched you dance, moving like nobody was watching when in reality they were, people stared at you in jealousy and awe at such effortless beauty. Jack of course was staring with the latter.

He was about to retreat back to Mason and Jasmine when 'Killshot' by Magdalena Bay started to play, not as hype as the previous song but it was one that made you feel even sexier.

As the chorus was about to start, you turned around and made direct eye contact with Jack, his eyes widening at your gaze. You didn't recognise him immediately but it clicked after a couple of seconds since there were edits of him all over TikTok, not to mention you noticed Jasmine grinning with Mason.

You recalled the text convo you had with Jas before you left for the club.

Hey Y/N, I saw your recent and noticed on the caption it said you were going clubbing, where you off to?

Hey sis! I'm off to Kiko's, really nice club about a 10 min drive from the O2 xx

Oh cool! I'm staying at a hotel with some friends I think you'd love, our hotel's literally connected to the O2, see you there maybe?

Now girl, you know what happened the last time we went clubbing together

We'll behave, I promise!

If you turn up you better get us our own section pookie

You know I will!

I know das right!!

Then it dawned upon you that Jack was the friend and judging by the look on Jasmine's face, she had a plan. The sneaky devil.

You didn't mind though, there was no denying he was a massive cutie, tall, strong looking and very handsome but he also looked really sweet. Also, the way he was looking at you like you were the only girl in the room gave you butterflies, his eyes were so gorgeous, it was difficult to not stop and stare.

So you smiled at him, making his heart stop and his eyes widen. He was already hooked.

"I'll be back, you guys want any drinks?" You asked your friends. They all shook their heads no and continued dancing prompting you to make your way to the bar as the chorus continued to play. "One shot of tequila please,"

"Make that two shots of tequila please," You looked behind you to see none other than Jack Champion looking down at you. "Hey, I'm Jack,"

"I'm Y/N, nice to meet you Jack," you flashed him a pearly white smile, immediately making him forget himself. "I'm guessing you're here with Jas?"

"And Mason, they really wanted to take me here clubbing and now I think I know why," he grinned making you laugh.

That laugh.

Jack would literally dress up in a clown costume and do the worm in front of millions just to hear that laugh. It was like music to his ears, a drug he'd have no problem becoming addicted to.

Two shots of tequila were put in front of you along with lime and salt on a small plate, the way he looked at it dumbfounded made you giggle slightly.

"Never had a tequila shot?" You smirked.

"N- No, this is my first time going out and drinking, back at home the legal age is 21," Jack explained as heat rose to his face.

"I'll teach you if you want," you looked up at his towering frame and must have said it too quietly because he looked at you inquisitively before bending over so your lips were nearer his ear.

Girl, if you could blush...

You smiled and pulled his hand up in front of you before balling it up in a fist. Then you took a pinch full of salt and sprinkled it on his hand before doing the same for yourself.

"Lick the salt off your hand, take the shot and then suck on the lime as quickly as possible in one go," you said into his ear, which looked a bit red. You both picked up your shots and tapped the glasses before licking the salt, drinking the alcohol followed by the lime. The eye contact paired with the little smile he gave you during the mini lesson made a wave of heat wash over you and go a lil feral but he didn't need to know that.

"Oh, ooo big no no," he screwed his face up at the taste making you laugh again.

"Not the first time someone's reacted like that, maybe you're more of a beer guy?"

"Nope, I hate the taste,"

"Finally someone that gets it! Beer is just despicably vile, an abomination to beverages" you declared passionately making him smile at your voice. "What're you staring at?"

"Your accent is so incredibly cute," he looked down at you with a soft grin making your cheeks heat up again.

"I can't even imagine how many girls you must have said that to,"

"Only you, I honestly think I could listen to you speak all day,"

You smirked up at him as 'Wild Thoughts' began to play. "Wanna dance, Jack?"

"I uh uhm-

Before he even had the chance to answer, you took his hand within yours and pulled him through the crowed back onto the dance floor. As you led him through, his hand immediately found the small of your back, protecting you from the crowd, making your knees go weak. Soon, his arms were around your waist and your arms were around his neck, moving to the beat of the music.

"I love this song!" You grinned up at him.

"Me too!" He smiled. "You know... I follow you on TikTok,"

"Ah, I thought you did! Just wasn't 100% sure,"

"Well now you know,"

You gasped thinking "shit I don't follow him back"

He read your thoughts perfectly and smirked "It's okay, I'm here with you now so hopefully I can leave with something even better,"

"Oh really?" Your smirk mirrors his perfectly. "And what would that be, Mr Champion?"

"Your number plus a time and place i could take you out,"

Fuck this guy had all the makings of the perfect heartbreaker.

Once again, your heart rate increased at both his words and smile, that fucking smile.

"Depends. How many dates have you gotten since you've arrived in London?" He laughed again at your words.

"The only women I've properly spoken to since getting to London are you and Jas,"

You hummed thoughtfully, knowing that he was telling the truth, but not wanting to make your feelings too obvious. Jack felt like his heart was going to explode with the way you kept your dark eyes on his, a small smile tugging on your lips as he leaned in closer.

You were dangerous. And he was loving it.

He smiled softly at you, his thumb gently caressing your waist and bottom lip tucked under his teeth.

"You're so perfect, you're so so unbelievably perfect," he whispered, absolutely enamoured by you.

You grinned back, lightly twirling his curls at the back of his head with your fingers as he leaned in closer before making eye contact with Jas. She raised a brow at you and nodded towards the stairs, making you quickly catch on.

"Come with me," you smile against his ear making him go red as you tug him back through the crowd and up the stairs. Immediately the two of you are in a more private section of the club, guarded by two bouncers who let you through. The interior was very expensive looking and while you could see everything that was going on down where everyone else was dancing, it was a lot more private, with only you two occupying the room.

"Where are we-

"Private section of the club, Jas really hooked us up," you laughed. "Now I can actually hear you without having to lip read,"

The words coming out of your mouth however, fell upon deaf ears. Jack still couldn't get over how gorgeous you were, and still trying to understand how much time you were spending together without you thinking he was a waste of your time. His gaze was on you and nothing but you, thinking of you and just wanting to spend the moment with... you.

"Jack? Earth to Jack?" His eyes snapped back to yours, finally showing that he was paying attention. Immediately his arm found your waist again and he gently pulled you in, maintaining his gaze on yours. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Yes, the music was still thumping and causing the room to vibrate but it was like the two of you were floating away on a cloud, lost in each others eyes.

"Y/N... I'd really, really like to take you out on a date," Jack confessed, gently caressing your cheek as your eyes widened. "I mean I've actually been wanting to for a while but I thought you would probably be way too cool and think I'm too boring or you'd want someone better but I really would love to get to know you mor-

"Jack," you laughed adoringly at his nervous rambling  before placing a hand on the back of his head, getting on your tiptoes and pulling him in for a kiss.

And what a kiss it was.

Time felt like it had stopped for the curly headed brunette as your lips moved in synch perfectly. He felt his heart melt as you leaned more into him, nibbling his bottom lip lightly. It was perfect, you were perfect.

And in that moment, Jack knew that he wanted to spend every moment of his existence making you aware of how perfect you were to him.

"Jack Champion I'd love nothing more,"

A/N: My gawd he’s so cutie patootie pookie. Also side note: I saw a tiktok comment talking about how it makes perfect sense Jack is the “We rocking with Mark bc Mark is rocking with us” of the friend group and I in fact have not been the same since, it actually inspired this storyline lol.