#but i want to know what happens to their friendship

[luveline]

Oooooo carmy request: him being jealous of readers friendship w richie cos they re like buddys and he thinks she doesn't like him cos shes not like that w him

—you realise what Carmy wants from you. fem, 1.4k

Richie isn’t technically an upstanding citizen, but he’s a good guy. 

“I’m telling you, sweetheart, you just need to be more aggressive.” 

You’re sitting on a stool behind the counter filling the ketchup and mayonnaise bottles with the huge ones from the walk-in. Richie isn’t doing much of anything, which is fine by you; he’s good entertainment for a shitty job. 

“I don’t want to be more aggressive, I want people to be nicer.” 

“We don’t get what we want,” he mutters. 

You frown expressively. “Aw, baby, we don’t get what we want. You don’t get what you want, huh?” 

“What’s your problem?” he asks, though he laughs brightly. “You’re the fucking baby. You’re not doing that right.” 

You point at your extremely slow drip of ketchup. “No, you think? I know I’m doing it wrong, Richie. Doing it right is a lot of arm effort. Have you seen my arms?” 

“You’ve got muscle.” Richie lifts your arm up by the wrist. “Flex. Flex your arm.” 

“I’m flexing. You can’t see that?” 

“What are you guys doing?” Carmy asks. 

He comes up behind Richie and they’re almost twins. Not in appearance —Carmy’s lighter facially and broader physically— but in stance, their mussed up aprons and the rags on their shoulders a uniform. 

You flex. “Weight training.” 

Richie drops your arm. “I’m showing her how to fill the sauce bottles.” 

“And you didn’t know how to do that?” Carmy asks you. 

“I’m the one that taught Richie.” You absolutely didn’t teach Richie how to do it, that much is obvious. Richie laughs heartily, and Carmy frowns, and you realise that Richie thinks you’re both laughing at Carmy, which isn’t what was happening. Not totally. 

It’s hard to navigate The Beef without Mikey; Carmy is nothing like his brother, and Richie’s an asshole. 

Carmy nods at you. You’re worried his lip is gonna curl like it does when he’s mad and you’re gonna get told to do something you’re uninterested in, but it’s Richie who gets punished. “Can you finish Sydney’s prep?” 

“Why can’t she do it?” 

“Her stomach thing. It’s just onions.” 

Richie wants to argue, but can’t. He’s paid a wage to work. “Fine. But tell Syd I’m not her gopher.” 

Richie saunters away. 

“He’s not her gopher,” you tease when he’s out of earshot, to Carmy’s surprised delight. “God, Carm, don’t you know anything?” 

Your Richie impression isn’t your best. Carmy must enjoy it, still smiling to himself as his attention is turned to the register, where he begins wiping down the keys. 

“Is that really the way to do that?” he asks, gesturing to your sauce bottles. 

You’ve turned the cap upside down, feeding sauce into the bottle one drip at a time. It would be quicker to remove the cap entirely and pour straight from the big bottle, but that sometimes requires three hands, the big jugs are that heavy. 

“Despite what you might think, Carm, I’ve thought it through.” 

“You sure?” 

You could get defensive. When Carmy first took over the restaurant, you thought, What the fuck, Mikey. Leave your shithole restaurant to your world class brother and get your entire roster of staff fired in one fell swoop. But Carmy never fired you, hasn’t cut your hours, doesn’t treat you like an asshole. He is a jerk, that much is certain during busy dinner service, but he has yet to take it too far. (Ish.)

So you won’t defend your laziness, or expect him to like it. You get up from your stool and turn the cap right side up, tapping what’s yet to drip through the spout into the bottle. You set the cap aside, and you uncap the big ketchup to decant sauce until the bottle is full. 

Carmy glances at you from the corner of your eye. He looks at you, looks away again. 

You think he might like you. In the don’t have a choice, grown on him like moss way. He gets cagey when you and Richie are having fun, and he stares altogether too much, but he can be pretty when he’s smiling (or really yelling) and he has nice hands, and nice arms. He has a nice way of saying things. You don’t mind his attention.

There have been worse bosses to want to push you up against a wall. 

Not that you think Carmy could. He whines like a bitch at you for stupid shit, but Carmen Berzatto shoving you into a wall for a rough kiss? That’s never gonna happen. 

And yet… his frown tells a different story. 

“Why do you get so weird about me and Richie?” you ask. 

“I don’t get weird about you and Richie.” 

You open the mayonnaise bottle and set the cap aside. “He’s nicer than you think.” 

“Yeah?” He sounds vaguely depressed, which isn’t uncharacteristic. Seriousness colours his voice with a strange charm. “I’ll take your word for it.” 

“He is, he makes me laugh. He makes sure I eat, he shouts at guys when they’re mean to me.” 

“Who’s mean to you?” 

“Carmy.” You give up on the mayonnaise and wipe your hands down your apron, to his ire. You’d prefer not to smell like egg and oil during this conversation, but it’s better than smelling like burnt chicken, sort of. “Richie’s a nice guy, whether you agree or not.” 

“That’s great, I’m glad he’s so nice to you.” He sounds angry now, but he’s stuck as you are —walking away is losing. 

You really don’t get it. “Is he not supposed to be nice to me?” you ask. 

“He can do what he wants. You can do what you want.”

You laugh, and hope to diffuse the situation with a joke, “Okay, thanks for your permission, Chef.” 

“Fuck off.” 

He sounds less tense, but not fixed. And you might find it harder to keep up with him, constantly wanting to impress him, knowing you can’t, but you’re not out of touch. You aren’t a huge dick. 

Carmy beats you to it. “I was kidding, about the bottles. You can do it how you want.” 

“I wasn’t offended.” 

“But you don’t– with Richie, you– I don’t know what I’m doing wrong with you.” 

You look him up and down, lengths of his arms, tattoos and the cut over his elbow. His clean t-shirt, his neck, the strong line of his nose and his bright eyes. 

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” you say, smiling at him, knowing your expression says lots of weird stuff. 

Working here in the kitchen makes a busy atmosphere normal. Richie’s telling a story at the top of his lungs, Angel’s swearing about a dropped plate, knives scratch on boards and ovens hum. Being overwhelmed is something you’re good at, and big feelings don’t scare you. 

“You’re jealous of Richie?” you ask, playfully pitying. “Get it together.” 

“Fuck off,” he says again. 

“Seriously? Richie Jerimovich. He’s telling Tina a story right now about how the last date he went on ended with her asking if he’d ever been abducted by aliens.” 

“I’m not jealous of Richie.” 

“No, I don’t think you are,” you say, taking a step too close, and refusing to take the step back. 

Carmy doesn’t look mad anymore. 

You wonder if anybody’s ever held his hand. You used to think he must’ve had a ton of girlfriends, he got so famous everywhere he went, but… He looks like he’s never been this close to someone before. Like you’re making him nervous. 

“Me and Richie are friends,” you say quietly. “Is that what you want us to be?” 

His hand twitches at his side. 

“There, cousin, I cut the fucking onions. You happy?” Richie asks, and laughs as he steps back out to the front of house, unaware of the tension. “That’d be the day, right?” 

“Yes, Richie, I’m happy you did your job. Thank you.” 

“Was that hard for you, baby?” you ask Richie with a pout. “Here, let me kiss your poor hands.” 

Richie gives you the bird with both of them. 

You look to Carmy. Making fun of Richie together isn’t quite as good as holding hands, but you hope it’s a start. 

Carmy catches on, can’t hide his grin, “There’s tylenol in the office if you need it, cousin.”  

“Are your wrists feeling tender?” you prompt. “Or is that motion one you’re used to?” 

Carmy laughs and the sound takes on the shape of his smile, nearly giddy. 

“Fuck both of you.” 

[geotjwrs]

Could you maybe do one where Jenna and Reader are working on Wednesday season 1 (They’re just friends but both like each other and haven’t told the other yet) and Percy (or literally anyone else) flirts with Jenna a bit, which makes Reader jealous. Jenna doesn’t notice at all how jealous Reader gets but their friends notice and eventually when Jenna is talking about Reader saying she wishes Reader felt the same way she feels about her the friends just straight up tell her about how jealous Reader gets, calling Jenna just blind cause it was very very obvious.

Jenna realises and confronts reader about it, not sure what could happen from there but yeah

Anyways I love your work you’re like one of my fave writers on here!! ❤️❤️

can't you see me

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

The set of "Wednesday" was buzzing with the usual hustle and bustle of filming. Jenna and Y/N had become close friends since the start of production. They shared jokes, late-night talks, and a deep connection that neither dared to label as more than friendship.

During a break, Percy Hynes White strolled over to Jenna, exuding his usual charm. Y/N watched from a distance, his stomach twisting as Percy leaned in closer, his body language oozing flirtation.

"Hey, Jenna," Percy said with a grin, his eyes locked on hers. "After this, how about dinner? I know a great place."

Jenna giggled, twirling a strand of her hair. "That sounds nice, Percy. Maybe we can invite the whole cast."

Percy's smile faltered slightly, but he nodded. "Sure, the more, the merrier."

Jenna and Percy continued to chat, their conversation filled with laughter and playful touches. Y/N clenched his fists, trying to appear unaffected. Emma, who was nearby, gave him a knowing look.

"Dude, you're like an open book," Emma whispered.

"What are you talking about?" Y/N muttered, eyes still fixed on Jenna and Percy.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You're jealous. It's obvious. Why don't you just tell Jenna how you feel?"

Y/N sighed, frustration evident in his voice. "It's not that simple, Emma. We're just friends. She doesn't feel that way about me."

Emma smirked. "If you say so. But I think you're the one who's blind here."

Over the next few days, Y/N started to distance himself from Jenna. He avoided long conversations, kept his interactions professional, and immersed himself in his work. Jenna noticed the change and felt a pang of hurt and confusion.

"Y/N, do you want to run lines?" Jenna asked one afternoon, approaching him with her usual bright smile.

Y/N glanced up, forcing a smile. "Actually, I need to go over my scene with the director. Maybe later?"

Jenna's smile faded slightly, but she nodded. "Sure, later then."

As the days passed, Y/N's distance became more pronounced. He spent more time alone, listening to music in his trailer, and avoiding any situation where he might see Jenna with Percy.

One evening, after filming wrapped, Jenna decided she couldn't take it anymore. She headed to Y/N's trailer, determined to find out what was going on. She found him inside, earphones in, listening to Clairo's "Bags."

"Y/N," Jenna said, knocking softly before entering.

Y/N looked up, quickly pulling out his earphones. "Hey, Jenna. What's up?"

Jenna took a deep breath, her heart pounding. "We need to talk."

Y/N's smile faded, concern flickering in his eyes. "Is everything okay?"

Jenna nodded, stepping closer. "No, it's not. You've been so distant lately. Did I do something wrong?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not you, Jenna. It's just... complicated."

Jenna frowned, frustration bubbling up inside her. "Complicated? You've been avoiding me, Y/N. We used to be so close, and now you barely talk to me."

Y/N looked away, the weight of his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "I just needed some space."

"Space?" Jenna echoed, her voice rising. "From what? From me?"

Y/N clenched his fists, feeling the anger and frustration boiling over. "From seeing you with Percy, okay? I can't stand watching you two together."

Jenna blinked, taken aback. "Percy? We're just friends, Y/N. Why does it bother you so much?"

"Because I like you, Jenna!" Y/N shouted, his voice cracking. "I've liked you for a long time, and seeing you with him... it hurts. Can't you see me, Jenna? I'm right here."

The room fell silent, the weight of Y/N's confession hanging in the air. Jenna stared at him, her mind racing as she processed his words.

"Y/N," she said softly, stepping closer. "I had no idea. I've been so blind. I thought... I thought you only saw me as a friend."

Y/N looked up, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and despair. "I didn't want to ruin what we had. I thought it was better to stay silent."

Jenna reached out, taking his hand in hers. "You didn't ruin anything, Y/N. I feel the same way. I've been too scared to say anything, but... I really like you too."

Y/N's eyes lit up with a mixture of disbelief and happiness. "Really?"

Jenna nodded, her smile bright and genuine. "Really."

From that day forward, the dynamic between Y/N and Jenna shifted. They were still the same playful friends, but now, there was an added layer of affection and understanding. During scenes, their chemistry was undeniable, drawing admiration from the cast and crew.

One day, while filming a particularly intense scene, Jenna and Y/N found themselves holding hands longer than necessary. The director noticed but didn't say anything, smiling to himself. During breaks, they would steal moments together, sharing quiet conversations and secret smiles.

As the final scenes of "Wednesday" wrapped up, the cast and crew gathered for a small celebration. Jenna and Y/N found a quiet corner, away from the noise.

"I can't believe it's over," Jenna said, her voice tinged with sadness.

Y/N smiled softly. "It's just the beginning for us, Jenna."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "Yeah, it is."

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🩷 Mpreg Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

🩷 Say Something by @kingsofeverything {E, 105k}

At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

🩷 I Get To Love You by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 {E, 83k}

A one night stand leaves Harry with a permanent reminder of the night he spent with a stranger.

Louis has no idea who the handsome stranger he took to bed is... until his friends make a shocking discovery.

A baby is on the way, and Louis and Harry have nine months to get to know each other before they become a family...

🩷 I like the way you say my name (when you soak it in grace) by louisismycat / @liminalkittyfics {E, 73k}

“It’s like I’m fucking orbiting around you, you know? Like you’re some huge, beautiful planet, and I’m a piece of space junk lucky enough to be pulled in by you somehow, and now I can’t leave, even if I wanted to. And I really fucking don’t want to leave.”

OR Louis is transferred to a new city to temporarily cover for his counterpart while he is on maternity leave for the next six months.

His new co-workers talk endlessly about Harry, the omega who he’s covering for. And Louis finds himself jealous of whatever alpha as snatched him up.

Until he learns Harry is actually an unmated omega three months out from becoming a single parent.

🩷 Little by Little by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {E, 65k}

Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes.

Or Harry discovers figuring out who you are is more complicated than a potato metaphor.

🩷 Falling For Me Won't Be A Mistake by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings {M, 58k}

Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.

🩷 Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren {E, 42k}

Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha

🩷 I Think You're Already Home by @jaerie {E, 38k}

Seeing Louis Tomlinson today, it would be hard to guess that he was ever once a member of the world's most famous boyband. These days he doesn't even the leave his own house. The truth is he can't leave his own house. He can't even remember the last time just standing at an open door didn't send him into a debilitating panic attack. But, against his friend's advice, Louis is ready to add meaning to his life again. He's ready to start a family. So what if he doesn't have an omega? There are plenty of surrogacy services just waiting to help the rich and famous become parents. He just has to find the right one for the job.

🩷 Endgame by @brightgolden {E, 38k}

Harry has been told all his life how grateful he should be for being born as a male omega, and how blessed their people were because the heir to the throne would be carried by The King.

What they neglected to tell Harry was what would happen if he failed to become pregnant.

OR Where omega Crown Prince Harry Styles is trying and failing to get pregnant for four years, but all that is about to change when courtesan alpha Louis Tomlinson comes into the equation.

🩷 Baby, What a Big Surprise by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou {E, 33k}

As Harry settles into his seat, self-consciously adjusting his shirt over his slightly distended stomach, he can’t help but wonder how he got himself into all this. But he knows, of course he knows. It isn’t exactly easy to forget the moment that changed his entire life forever.

It all started with a party.

Or, the one where shy, quiet Harry has no idea he's a carrier, and a one night stand with the most popular boy in school shows him just how wrong he was.

Featuring Lottie as Harry's best friend, Niall as her boyfriend, and, of course, Louis as the popular boy with a soft spot for his little sister's quirky friend.

🩷 Oops, Baby, I Love You (In That Order) by @fallinglikethis {E, 25k}

Later that night, when he’s lying in bed thinking of all the things he’s longed for in his life, he can’t stop hearing Fizzy’s words in his head. Who says you have to get married?

It’s true, Louis wants to get married one day, to have a spouse to encourage his crazy promotional ideas for his book shop, to have someone to cuddle into at night, someone who will love him even on his moody days. But she’s absolutely right, isn’t she? Who says he has to have that before he can have a baby?

 When he finally falls asleep, he sleeps restfully, having made a very important decision about his future.

 Husband or no, Louis Tomlinson is going to have a baby.

Or The minute Louis Tomlinson decides he don’t need no man to start a family, Harry Styles literally falls into his arms.

🩷 deep in my heart i know there's only you by ballsdeepinjesus {E, 23k}

"Will you do it?” Harry whispers. Louis has to lean closer just to hear him. He furrows his brows and shakes his head, not knowing what Harry means. “Would you donate for me?”

Louis is dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, I thought you just asked if I’d donate my sperm. Can you repeat yourself?”

[harry and louis are best friends who engage in some platonic baby-making. very platonic.]

🩷 tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights {E, 20k}

No, that's the tragic part of this, the part that makes Harry feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. The father of his baby is exactly right, exactly who he always imagined himself having kids with. He just imagined them married, bonded. Happy. He didn't imagine them barely talking, tip-toeing around each other because neither of them is brave enough to talk about what happened between them. He didn't imagine the father of his child not loving him back.

or, the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.

🩷 Souls; Plural, Parallel by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {T, 19k}

Soulmates are rare, the sort of rare that means everyone has a story about a friend's sister's coworker or a brother's roommate's cousin. But the fact of the matter is that most people never meet theirs. It's unfortunate then, that Louis finds out the hard way that he met his soulmate in a club, and the guy never texted him back.

🩷 Come In and Change My Life by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic {E, 12k}

He’d had the same neighbours since he’d moved into the building, a lovely, wealthy couple in their late sixties who had always invited him around for tea on Sundays. Martha had dropped off homemade biscuits the day he’d moved in, so Harry figured he may as well repeat the sentiment. He could hear someone getting closer to the door just as a flush ran through his body; oh fuck. His heat was close, too close to be knocking on a potentially unknown alpha’s door, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Harry’s mouth dropped. He’d never been overly interested in football, couldn’t find the fascination in watching men run around after a ball for hours aside from their uniforms, but he knew who this was. Louis Tomlinson, alpha, captain of Manchester United, star in a number of Harry’s heat addled fantasies, was his new next-door neighbour.

Or, Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

🩷 One Minute Old by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel {E, 9k}

“And he left you,” Niall interjects, the venom clear in his voice. “That asshole left you high and dry and broke your heart.”

Of course, Niall remembers that. Louis may have told him everything—minus the sexy parts—and Naill, being the overprotective mother friend that he is, took offence to that. “He didn’t break my heart,” Louis refutes. He was hurt and confused by it but he wasn’t heartbroken. And apparently, he’s still hurt by it if the way it felt seeing Harry yesterday was any indication.

“You were pretty smitten with him and then you spent days moping around your apartment after he left. I think that’s called being heartbroken,” Niall points out.

“Okay, okay, I was upset. We get it,” Louis says, trying to move past it. This isn’t ‘poke fun at Louis’ emotions hour’. “Anyway, I called to tell you that he showed up at my door yesterday.”

“To beg for your forgiveness I hope.”

“No, he’s—” Louis stops, unsure how to phrase it. “He’s pregnant. And I’m the father.”

Or, a one-night stand of Louis' that he never thought he'd see again shows up at his door six months later.

🩷 Him & I by notasawrap {NR, 8k}

Louis inhales deeply and... "Maybe we should divorce." He lets go anxiously, without looking at Harry. He can't, Louis can't do this and pretend that it doesn't hurt, that his omega is not dying, but he knows it must be for the best. They have not been working for a while and Louis doesn't think the alpha wants that either. Besides, now there are more things at stake and Louis wants to let go before it's too late for both of them.

Maybe Harry even has some lover and although Louis loves Harry, Louis doesn't think Harry loves him back. Not anymore.

"Why would we do that?" Harry says and sounds really dismayed at the idea. Louis doesn't understand.

or Louis thinks Harry has a lover and he's willing to let's Harry go to be happy with someone else even if it hurts the three of them.

🩷 Game Changer by @neondiamond {E, 6k}

“Did the doctor say what was wrong with you?” “He thought I was pregnant,” Louis scoffs. “Told me to go home and take a test, a pregnancy test, Haz. Can you imagine the nerve it takes for him to even think that?” Harry looks lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. “Did you? Take a test, I mean?” “Of course I didn’t.”

OR: A couple months before playing in his first long-awaited World Cup, Louis finds out he’s pregnant. Harry’s there for the ride.

🩷 The World Will Open Its Arms by @lululawrence {NR, 4k}

Harry scrubbed at the countertop. It wasn’t even dirty, but it was three in the morning and the girl who was supposed to relieve him over an hour ago never showed. He was now on hour ten of his shift and his feet hurt and his back ached and he was trying not to cry, thanks to more fucking judgmental alpha truckers who could smell it on him.

Of course they could. He practically lived at the diner. The entire place reeked of it.

Unbonded pregnant omega.

🩷 seven, seven by @nouies {NR, 1k}

“Hello, baby girl,” Harry says as soon as the nurse places the bundle of joy into his arms. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

🩷 Holy Guacamole! by bluegreenish / @greenblueish {G, 666 words}

Louis needs to tell Harry something and wearing an avocado Halloween costume is the perfect way to do it.

[androdragynous]

I know i complained about the stardew valley penny and George cutscene at length but the it really is fucking. bizarre the lengths people will go to defend it because "the game lets you pick to side with him" (please do literally any reading about wheelchair use and realize why it's a problem that the game rewards you for moving someone without their consent.) or variants of that sentiment but then it's like. the rest of the cutscene is also So Weird

Like. Penny moves an old man in a wheelchair without asking him. He gets upset, she asks if you saw what happened The game prompts you to select from;

"I was. You did a kind thing there, Penny." (+50 friendship with Penny)

"I was. You should've asked instead of assuming George wanted help." (-50 friendship with Penny)

"I'm just taking a walk, minding my own business." (No effect on friendship.)

And these are the REVISED options. Before 1.4, the second option wasn't"you should have asked", it was "You should've left him alone. Now he's grumpy."

So already it's kind of shit. The person she's upset - who's entire existence in the game is experiencing inaccessibility, let's be real - because he was shoved without permission just for being in a wheelchair doesn't have his friendship level affected at all.

Regardless of which answer you pick, George apologizes (Penny does not apologize in every choice! But the guy she shoved does!) and says she was kind.

Once he's gone, she talks about how hard it must be to be old. It's worth noting, for what it's worth, that George has been using a wheelchair since a mining accident caused his immobility; it's not a result of age, and you learn about this whole he struggles with a bookshelf in his own home, where presumably he has been living with a wheelchair for at least two decades (given how he talks about his grandson), which is a whole different can of worms because why is this never addressed in a fictional community with multiple craftspeople who frequently do projects for each other?

Anyways. So Penny's like, damn, sucks that he's old. And the options the game gives you - all neutral in terms of friendship points - are:

"I'd rather not think about it."

"It's just a different part of life."

"That's why we should respect our elders."

"I'd rather die young..."

Like are you kidding me? You have a cutscene that's about being disabled - it's not about aging, because his disability was not caused by aging, it is explicitly and directly about the fact that he is in a wheelchair. And the game assumes your opinions will be "Not my problem,", "That's an old people thing,", and "I'D RATHER BE DEAD"? And this is something people just... don't remark on? Even in conversations ABOUT this cutscene? Like, George's mentions of being disabled are already Constantly Miserable -able-bodied writer standard quality - but the game is just like. Yeah you can say you'd rather be dead rather than express any positive sentiment about this guy surviving a traumatic mining accident. You can't say it's great that he's able to still be a part of the community in his chair, or renovate his house to make it accessible the way you can build ENTIRE HOMES for other characters. The community center you rebuild in the Good Ending for the community is only accessible by stairs. The path out of his home is dirt. It's the little things, y'know, like... obviously he wasn't thought about as his own character. The game's writing sees him as a source of conflict for others, and down to the very tiles of the terrain, he's irrelevant.

AND THEN THE TOWN DOCTOR DOES A HIPAA VIOLATION AND GETS SAD IF YOU SAY GEORGE SHOULD HAVE AGENCY OVER HIS OWN BODY. WHAT ARE WE FUCKING DOING HERE

[lumiilys]

Please consider the following:

Stede and Ed have finally settled in to the inn, it doesn't need any more major repairs and is starting to look quite cosy. Everything is going great!

One day Stede becomes very ill, to the point that he can't get out of bed or take care of himself properly. Ed is running himself ragged trying to take care of him on his own, not sleeping properly because he keeps waking up to check on Stede, terrified that something is going to happen to him while he sleeps. He isn't even able to go out and get supplies because he's terrified that something will happen to Stede while he isn't there.

Eventually food starts running low and Ed knows he'll have to make the long trek to town to get more and he's stressing the fuck out over leaving Stede alone like that.

After nearly a week of the illness the crew shows up unexpectedly, wanting to surprise Ed and Stede and congratulate them on their home. Except when they arrive they are greeted by an incredibly stressed and exhausted looking Ed who breaks down when he sees them.

Lucius (despite the fact that he and Ed haven't made up properly yet) is the one who takes him off somewhere quiet to calm down and explain what's going on. (I think that even though Lucius is still really hurt by what Ed did to him, he's had some time away from him to work out some of his feelings and he also recognises the severity of the situation. He still cares about Ed deep down and he was the one who was there for Ed at his lowest in s1 after all! Also i just miss their friendship!!)

Ed explains everything, how scared he feels that Stede is going to die, how alone he felt from not being able to ask anyone for help.

The crew, of course, immediately steps in to help so that Ed can finally get some rest. He knows Stede is in good hands with them.

Jim and Archie make the journey to the market in town to get some supplies, Roach takes over the cooking... Everyone finds some way to lend a helping hand!

After a few more days Stede starts to improve, he is finally able to get out of bed and wobble into the living room where he is immediately plopped into Ed's arms on the sofa by the fire. He gets lots of cuddles of course but he is also far less isolated in the living area than in the bedroom and is able to listen in on everyone's conversations and jokes.

The crew dotes on both of them until Stede has fully recovered <3 xoxoxo mwah

[thisapplepielife]

Happy 1st Anniversary, Tuesday's Gone With the Wind.

Twenty-nine years ago in fictional history, Corroded Coffin's plane crashed into the woods of Louisiana.

Thanks and so much love to anyone and everyone that has given this fic a read over the past year. Thanks for braving beyond that opening author's note. Thanks for the love you've given it. Thanks for making me feel seen. You made me feel like this thing that I spent months solely focused on, deep in research, was worth the time invested. You made me feel that it was a story worth telling.

It's my favorite thing I've ever written, and the one that still occupies my thoughts on the regular.

One year ago today, I finished posting it. It's not my most popular fic, not by a long shot. But I don't think it needs to be. It might not be for everyone, and that's okay.

It was for me.

And if it was for you, too, please know how much I appreciate you for reading it, recommending it, or championing it in any way. The audience it found may not have been huge, but the response from those that did read it, was so beyond overwhelmingly supportive and positive.

I said in the beginning that this was a love story. I'll double down on that now, with a year of distance and the continuation of their story in Wildflowers, under my belt.

It's many love stories.

And I miss these versions of them, and the love they all shared.

I miss Eddie Munson, with his big heart that fell fast and hard and forever. I miss Sweetheart and Dragon Slayer. I miss the Eddie that loved wholeheartedly, and despite all the problems he had, that never changed. Steve Harrington arriving in his life was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he knew that, from the start. He was all in.

I miss the young and flawed Gareth Jones, and his love for Di that he sometimes squandered like a goddamn fool. I miss his ride or die friendship with Eddie, that feels as real in my heart, as anything I've ever seen on screen. Gareth has changed how I listen to music, fundamentally. The drums snap to the forefront, now. And sometimes, I'll smile and think, damn, Gareth Jones would play this like a motherfucker.

I miss Jeff and Goodie, and their lifelong friendship, from the cradle to the grave. Jeff, for his even keel and ability to be part of the solution, instead of part of the problem, and Goodie for being exact opposite. The dry-witted, fanner of flames, that often made things (and let's be real, Gareth) a little bit worse, just because he could, for fun.

I miss Road Manager Steve Harrington, with his red milk crate and his unwavering competence and love. If love could have kept that plane in the air, Steve's love for them all would have been enough to do it, without a doubt.

If you haven't read it, and might want to, amazing, thank you. You don't have to read it unspoiled, and I'll even answer spoilery questions by DM if you want me to, but I'll always stand by the option to read it unspoiled existing, for those that do want to just dive in, and see where it lands. Or crashes, as it were.

I can only hope that you get, or have gotten, something out of reading it, because I absolutely got something out of writing it.

They changed me.

Thanks, boys.

Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day.

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Where The Shadows Dance (iv)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER IV: The Scars

SUMMARY: The morning after the princess's nightly adventure

WARNINGS: mentions of murder (yay), swearing, mentions of jealousy and past relationships, and also violence

NOTE: and again thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for proof reading my work <33

WORDS: 2.1K

The princess didn’t rise until noon.

Azriel had awoken three hours earlier. It was later than he normally would, but with his little trip to bring the princess back home, he’d been so exhausted that he hadn’t even realised the sun was up.

The princess’s soft snores filled his ears from behind her bedroom door as he was reading  through a novel, something mundane and uninteresting. It was a book that Nesta had recommended, and he wondered when the smut would start.

Y/n’s snores came to an abrupt halt, and Azriel looked up from the novel. He heard her shuffling about, before she exited her room, a scarlet robe draped over her body. Her hair was frizzy, and her eyes looked as if they would close any minute.

“Good morning, Princess,” Azriel greeted, a small smirk on his face. “Enjoying the consequences of an illegal night out?”

Y/n groaned and slumped beside the shadowsinger on the couch. “Please don’t speak right now. I may throw up again.”

Azriel passed her a cup of tea that had magically kept warm for her. She took it without a word and began drinking, closing her eyes as she did so. Azriel returned to his novel, turning pages every now and then. Y/n finished her tea, and when Azriel looked at her again, she was watching his hands.

“I apologise if I offended you last night,” the princess said quietly.

Azriel remained silent for a few moments. “I have never thought of my scars as pretty before,” he murmured after a while. “I don’t think I ever will.”

Y/n nodded softly, as if she understood. Azriel didn’t know how or why she would have any sense of understanding of the situation, but as she stared at his hands, it was as if she was in another world.

“How did it happen?” she finally asked. “If you’re comfortable sharing, of course.”

Azriel’s first instinct whenever he was asked this question was always ‘no.’ He never willingly recounted what had happened in his childhood, especially with someone he’d only known for a few weeks, but… Y/n was different. Something about her was different. Despite the fact that they’d lived such contrastive lives, Azriel had a feeling that telling her what had happened was something that was inevitable. Not in a catastrophic way, but more so in a peaceful, final way.

“When I was eleven, my half-brothers decided to see how well fire and Illyrian healing magic mixed,” Azriel stated.

Horror clouded the princess’s eyes, before white hot rage filled them, as if fueled by the magic in her veins. Something in him purred at the protectiveness in her eyes, but he ignored it.

“What happened to them?” she inquired, calm despite the flames in her eyes.

Azriel shrugged. “They got a slap on the wrist, and then Rhys and I… we did a little more when we were older.”

She paused for a moment, waiting for more. “You’re joking,” she spat. “They didn’t… they’re still alive?”

Azriel nodded, watching the princess’s reaction. The way she responded to his story stirred at the feelings he was trying to push down. He could see her thinking, calculating, figuring out what to say next.

“Why haven’t you gone after them?” she queried. “Why hasn’t Rhysand, or Cassian?”

“They’re not worth it,” Azriel replied simply. 

Y/n was silent, and Azriel assumed that was the end of the conversation. What did she care, anyway? Azriel must have been such a confusing book for her to read, with his jumping back and forth between cold disinterest, attempts and friendship, and maybe something more. Azriel was about to open his novel, when the princess spoke. 

“If you ever want them to have a taste of their own medicine, say the word and it will happen,” she promised.

Azriel could picture it. He could picture the two males he was supposed to call brothers on the ground, skin sizzling red. He could almost smell the singed hair and burning flesh, just the same as it was all those centuries ago. And he could picture Y/n, standing above them, flames engulfing both of her hands and embers swirling through her unbound hair. He could imagine the rage in her eyes, the slight downward curve of her lips.

He wanted to say yes. He wanted that image to become a reality. He wanted to see the princess lose control for him, to go into a spiralling need to avenge him.

“I will,” Azriel said instead.

A knock sounded at the door, and the princess stood up to answer it. Azriel rose as well, following her, ever the perfect bodyguard. Azriel frowned when he was greeted by the sight of red hair and amber eyes.

“Y/n,” Eris said, a small smirk on his face. “How was your night?”

“Peaceful as can be,” the princess replied. She did not look anything like someone who’d had a ‘peaceful’ night, but Eris didn’t comment on it.

Eris’s smirk softened into a smile, and his eyes flickered to the shadowsinger. “I thought so.”

Unspoken words gleamed in Eris’s eyes — speak of her outing to my father, and I shall skin you alive. Azriel hadn’t been planning on doing that, for many reasons, but the fact that Eris wanted to protect his sister…

“I saw your old friend,” Y/n said carefully to Eris. “He misses you.”

Eris’s eyes softened slightly. “I may have to pay him a visit. Did you see Corren?”

Y/n smacked her brother’s arm. “Asshole.”

Azriel tensed, ready for the heir’s backlash, but he simply grinned at his sister, the action so similar to Cassian when he was riling someone up for fun. There was no yelling, no fury at a female hitting and insulting the prince, even if it was playful.

“Not everyone here is heartless, Shadowsinger,” Eris stated, as if he knew what thoughts swirled around his mind.

Y/n looked at Azriel, and then back at her brother. The three stood in silence, just watching each other. Azriel’s thoughts were still slightly puzzled — Eris seemed to actually care about something that wasn’t the throne. And it was truly genuine, if the raw emotion that filled Eris’s eyes was truthful.

She hopes you two could get along one day, his shadows whispered. You are both very important to her.

Again, his shadows told him something about Y/n that they could not about others. It was as if they were in her mind, her heart, and they could tell him the most personal things about her. It was as if they had some sort of connection with her.

“We have a dinner with the court tonight,” Eris reminded his sister. “You might need these next several hours to get ready.”

Y/n scowled and hit her brother again. “Fuck off.”

Eris grinned and bid goodbye to his sister before leaving, shutting the door behind him. Azriel watched the princess, going through the conversation in his head. Something kept circling in his mind.

“Who is Corren?” Azriel inquired.

The princess turned to face him. “Someone I had a relationship with, a long time ago.”

Azriel frowned, suddenly hating this ‘Corren.’ He wanted to hunt him down, and make sure he never touched his princess again.

“Jealous, are we?” the princess purred, that mischievous grin on her face.

Azriel cocked his head. “Should I be?”

Fuck. He’d meant to say “why should I be?’ but his mouth had run faster than his mind, and now it sounded… It sounded almost flirtatious. 

But the princess just grinned and pat his shoulder, before heading into her bedroom.

TAGLIST: @honeybee54321 @marigold-morelli @lucky7rosie @itsswritten @paankhaleyaar @bubybubsters @5onedirection5 @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @thelov3lybookworm @blushingfawnsposts @thisiskaylin @morganisheree @sleepylunarwolf @bakananya @bookishbroadwaybish @namelesssaviour @glitterypirateduck @sfhsgrad-blog @ash-mc @feyres-fireheart @ib525 @azrielswhore @copenhagenspirit @eternallyelvish @teenagellamaangel @thisiskaylin @littleladdty @dnfhascorruptedme @taylorgriffin @fightmedraco @superspideyparker @talesofadragon @enfppuff @darling006

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 16

part 1, prev part

Despite the advice of both Steve and Wayne, Dusitn returns to the hospital the next day. Stands outside of Eddie’s room for longer than he should. Wondering if walking through the doors will bring the same torment as before. If anything will change.

He can’t bring himself to do it. Turns from the door and continues down the hall, deciding to visit Max. The rest of the group is already there. He was just going to be late.

They are sitting around the bed and talking. As if it was a lunch table. Or the couch of one of their living rooms. Bringing back the warm feelings of friendship. Of a never changing form of love. Reminding him that there is light in the dark, as long as he searches for it.

But just because there is light, doesn’t mean the dark isn’t suffocating.

Dustin’s mind lingers in the realm between rooms. The hallway that melds happiness and sorrow. As people reunite or lose their loved ones. Cope with the understanding that everything has changed. Or nothing has changed at all.

Everyone here is deciding to ignore the change for a moment. Try to look straight at the light for as long as they can. Until it leaves spots in their eyes and forces them to turn away. Ignoring it almost hurts as much as acknowledging it.

Maybe not for everyone, but it causes Dustin to remain quiet. Adding things to conversation, when necessary, but otherwise no words form. Laughter dies before hitting his lips. Feels so foreign. The muscles that pull the smile up on his face pulled down by weights. Each formation marking itself with burned energy.

But in the end, it’s the first moment he’s had in weeks where he isn’t fully drowning. Where part of the pain sets itself aside and allows him to breath. He forgot how nice it felt to be unburdened.

“Alright, what’s up with you,” Max asks when the rest of the group leaves. Dustin procrastinating traveling down the hall again.

“What?”

Max tilts her head to the side, the annoyance still ripe in the clouded glare. “You have barely said anything since you got here. You’ve never been this quiet. What’s going on?”

“How can you act so, not different? Like nothing has changed.” Dustin pauses, trying to find the right words to say. “You’re acting so ok. I’m not sure I would have I gone through what you did.”

Max shrugs, picking at her cast. “If I’m not laughing, I’m crying or shutting down. And I do when you guys leave. But laughing feels so much better than crying, so I try to laugh when I can.”

She has a point with that. Dustin feels how the laughter lifted weights. Made the joy trapped away in the pain start to flutter again.

“But don’t you wish that things turned out differently?” The question seems stupid now that it’s asked, but Dustin still wants to know.

Max raises her head, her clouded eyes looking towards Dustin but missing him slightly. “Of course I do. I miss seeing you guys. All I can see are the shadows of you when you stand in front of the light. It’s hard to remember things that I thought I didn’t have to memorize.”

She takes a breath to blink away the tears. “But, I can either be miserable because of the way life turned out and get caught up in these possible scenarios that could have happened. Or, I can learn to live this life that I almost lost. I was stuck in the what ifs before, I don’t want to be stuck in them again.”

Dustin wishes it were that easy. To just push them away and forget that the other possibilities exist. That there could have been a lifetime that he could have stopped Eddie from cutting that rope. From stopping and running out into the hoard of bats. Stop him from enduring all this pain.

“I heard about Eddie,” Max says when Dustin doesn’t respond. “I hope he gets better soon.”

“Me too.”

“It’s not his fault you know, the anger and the yelling and stuff. I had a moment like that when I woke up from the coma. It only lasted a few hours for me, but I was only in one for a few days. Eddie’s been stuck in one for over a week.”

Dustin lets out a deep breath. Tears threatening to fall. “It looked like he didn’t even recognize me.”

“He did,” Max quickly says. “Somewhere in his mind, he did. It just might not have come to the surface that fast. It’s weird waking up from a coma. It’s like your body is brand new, and everything feels wrong. You have to relearn everything. Including memories.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

“You’ve never been in a coma before,” Max shrugs. “Most people don’t.”

Dustin sits with her for a few more minutes before going to leave. Max stopping him on his way out to say one last thing.

“He’s going to remember, Dustin.”

He turns to look at her again. Seeing the pain engulf her face. Realizing how much all of this has affected her too.

“Be there for him when he does.”

Dustin nods, not realizing that she can’t see it. Stopping himself before he shuts the door to call out to her. Make sure she knows he understands.

“I will.”

He walks down the hall. Stopping in front of Eddie’s door again. Hand hovering over the handle. Pushing himself to make it turn. Step into the threshold and sit in his chair. Alone in a hospital room with his friend.

Eddie’s asleep. Looking more peaceful that yesterday. The pain and anger faded from his face. Leaving only the calmness that comes with sleep. Dustin thought the calmness of his face would sting, but all it does is bring comfort. Knowing that right in this moment, Eddie feels nothing.

Doing what he has done for the past week, Dustin pulls out the battered-up copy of The Fellowship of the Ring and turns to the page he left off on. Letting the words of this great adventure fill the room. One where lowly hobbits left the only town they ever knew, to do something grand. Something for the betterment of their entire world.

In a way, all of them were the hobbits. Broken out of the innocence of unknowing and thrown into the unbelievable reality. Walked themselves to Mordor and back. With their scars and bruises. But in the end, they continued to have lives. Be able to continue on with their own adventures.

Eddie stirs as Dustin makes it to the last chapter. Opens his eyes and turns towards Dustin. Blankly stares as the book concludes. Tries to sit up as Dustin closes the book. Falls back onto the pillows with a wince.

“Help,” he whispers. “Please.”

Dustin stands from his chair. Raises the back of Eddie’s bed slightly higher so Eddie’s sitting more vertically. Still with a slight recline.

Eddie takes a deep breath, eyes closing as he licks his chapped lips. “I yelled.” Another deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

Dustin shakes his head, not wanting to add to Eddie’s pain. “It’s ok. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Tears gloss over Eddie’s eyes. Dripping down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He realizes that Eddie means for more than just yesterday. For everything he doesn’t even remember doing, but deep in the depths of his mind knows he did. Understanding that he is here for some reason. And it caused both of them pain.

Dustin reaches out and takes Eddie’s hand. Feels the life as he grips Dustin’s fingers with all the strength that Eddie has right now. “Don’t be.”

“Love you, Henderson.” Eddie whispers before closing his eyes again. Falling back to sleep.

Dustin cries. He remembers. “Love you too, Eddie.”

Note: This full chapter is now posted on my ao3. Now back to Wayne

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@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

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@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

[filmtv2022]

The Case (18+ MDNI)

Story: Heading to the beach to hang out with the rest of the Dagger Squad, Jake manages to turn an ordinary day into quite an adventure. One that turns your friendship into something more. On the hunt for your sunglasses case he finds another case with an altogether different purpose... your favorite toy. Unable to keep his thoughts to himself he tells you just how much he'd like to see you use it. And who knows... maybe before the end of the day he'll get that treat.

Warnings: Smut/Sexual content + swearing + alcohol consumption + use of sex toys

A/N: Umm... well... I'm not even really sure what to say about this other than I hope you enjoy it. Also, as always, I apologize for any mistakes. Oh... and if you want to reblog and/or comment that would be fantastic!

A warm breeze ruffled the curtains above the sink as you scanned the counter for missing beach necessities. The heat-soaked air filled the room beckoning you out into the morning glow. More than ready to get the day going, and unwilling to lose your standard spot behind the Hard Deck, you steadily made your way through the last of your mental checklists. One by one you tossed the rest into the already stuffed backpack that leaned precariously on the edge of the counter. Two types of sunscreen (lotion and spray), snacks, water, and your emotional support Kindle all made their way inside, but there was one item remaining. Turning around in a hurry, you knocked into Jake as he rounded the corner into the room.

“Shit.” You mumbled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around your body to keep you from falling. Your palms pressed flat against his pecs to keep yourself steady. 

“If ya wanna cop a feel all you gotta do is ask.” Smirking, he stared down at you, “What’d you forget now, darlin’?”

“My sunglasses.” Pushing off his chest, you removed yourself from his grip, “And my patience for your bullshit.”

“Can’t help you with the second, but I’ll get the glasses. Where are they?” Letting you go he took off down the hall before he heard your response.

“On my nightstand, they’re in a case.” The creaky wood floor groaned beneath his pounding steps. Reaching for the bag, you zipped the main pocket, shoving down the bottles of water you slipped inside. Going through the list again, you were lost in thought when Jake returned from his search. His voice startled you, but you’d never let it show. Turning around you found him leaning against the entryway with something in his hand. The sight of it sent your stomach plummeting to the floor. 

“What’s this?” His eyes never left you as he held out the item in his hand, his lips pulled into a mischievous grin at the sight of your internal panic. 

“Where the hell did you get that?” 

“It was in a case… on your nightstand. Now answer my question.”

“Don’t be an ass. You know what it is. Give it to me, and go get my glasses.” 

“No, not gonna happen. I wanna hear you say it.” His eyes locked onto yours, fixing you to him. 

Narrowing your vision, you glared back, unwilling to hand over full control of the conversation, “It's a vibrator. Ya happy now?”

“Extremely.” A hazy far far-off look came over his features as his eyes dropped to the little green toy in his hand. 

‘What’s that look for?”

“Nothin’.”

Stepping forward, you trapped him in your sights and attacked with all the vigor you could muster given just how flustered you felt, “I know you, that’s not a nothing face. What twisted fantasy is going through your mind right now?”

“You really wanna know?” Jake pushed himself away from the wall, crowding into your body. The heat from his skin poured through his thin t-shirt as he backed you into the counter. The weight of his presence sent unfamiliar shivers down your spine. 

Your head tipped back to look him in the eyes, your voice breathy and quiet as you responded, “Yes.” 

“I was thinking about how sexy you’d look… using this. Fuck. I’d love to see it.” Jake watched you swallow, your breath shallow and labored with the control it took to keep steady. 

Catching yourself, you shook your mind back to reality and bit back. Each word was laced with sarcasm, “You’re fucking disgusting, you know that? 

“But you love me.”

“I tolerate you because we work together. Don’t push it.” Shaking your head, you smiled back at Jake before breaking away. You grabbed the bag and slung it over your shoulder before heading toward the front door.  Pausing, you called back to him, “Take care of it… right now.”

“Oh come on now,” Jake followed you with his eyes, lingering on the curves of your body. He knew he was pushing your buttons, but deep down he was terrified of what might happen if he stopped. If he let himself explore the way you made him feel. 

“Whatever.” Stopping quickly, you whipped around to face him. Ignoring the look he was giving you let the words fly, “Oh and I've seen some crazy ass shit at your apartment and I’ve never said jack about it. Now go get my glasses.” 

“Yes, ma’am” Jake threw a mocking salute and took off for the bedroom. 

On autopilot, you tossed the bag in the back of Jake’s rusted pickup that had become a near-constant feature in your drive over the past few months. Waves of heat hung in shimmering lines as you tore open the passenger door. Pulling yourself into the seat, you avoided the burning metal on the buckle and picked at the peeling edges of the faux leather that practically crumbled beneath your touch. The quick fall of steps on concrete redirected your attention to the driver’s side where Jake was ripping open the door and flinging himself inside. 

“One pair of sunglasses.” Handing them over, he connected his phone to music and backed out of the driveway in hasty succession. 

The song that poured from the speaker could only be described as lewd, the kind of shit that frat boys listened to as they tried to get their dicks wet, “What the fuck kind of music is this?” Grabbing for his phone you typed in the code, “‘Doin’ it’…that’s the name of your playlist… this is your sex playlist. God, you’re gross. Let it go.” 

“What? I figured it was only fair for me to share seeing as how I uncovered your dirty secret.” Without even looking he knew you were giving him a death stare, “Fine, fine. Passenger Princess now has control of the tunes. Be my guest.” 

“I truly hate you.” 

“And I truly know that's a lie” Pressing on the gas, Jake took off down the road. A wide grin lightened his features as he glanced over at you. Your eyes had fallen shut, but there was serene peace evident in the light smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. The sight of it tightened the knot at the center of his chest. Yet again, Jake found himself pushing down the rising emotions he wasn’t quite ready to sort out. 

Sticking your hand out the window, you rested your feet on the dash basking in the summer sun that beat through the windshield. Just like that, the drive to the beach flew by, and the pair of you sat quiet as the whoosh of hot air swirled through the cab ruffling the baby hairs that framed your face.  Eventually, Jake rounded the final corner to the Hard Deck. Rooster’s Bronco was already in the lot along with what appeared to be the rest of the team's vehicles. Somehow you’d managed to still be late even after getting up extra early. 

Sand squished between your toes on the short walk to the beach. The briny scent of the ocean mixed with the tropical blast of overly applied sunscreen. It was intoxicating, to say the least. Simple days like this were hard to come by in your profession so you’d take whatever you could get. In the distance, you could see Bradley in his hideous jorts talking with Phoenix and Bob. They appeared to already be in discussion about groups for Dogfight Football. Scanning the rest of the familiar faces, it was obvious that Maverick wasn’t yet present. While you loved your captain, this was a blessing. With him absent, it meant you could bow out of playing the game you’d merely learned to tolerate. It wasn’t that you hated doing things with your team, but more so that beach time, in your eyes, was meant for drinking, tanning, and reading. Nothing more and nothing less. 

Closing the rest of the distance to the group, you placed your bag down next to Halo and began setting up camp. Jake and Bradley chatted lightly with each other as you laid out your towel and grabbed for the sunscreen.  Despite your love for the sun, you still wanted to avoid the nasty repercussions of exposure without SPF. Behind you, the bolstered noise of slightly inebriated aviators faded as they moved closer to the water for the game. You peeled off your oversized t-shirt and jeans shorts and dropped them into your bag. The bottle of sunscreen was cool to the touch, its weight light enough to indicate that it was nearly empty. Doing your best, you stretched into several awkward positions in a feeble attempt to get your back. 

“You need some help there?” Jake asked as he grabbed for the bottle in your hand.

“Sure.” Handing it over, you braced yourself for the chill that accompanied the aerosol spray. 

Methodically, Jake coated your back with sunscreen. Finished with the product, he tossed it onto your towel before working it into your skin. Starting with your arms, he moved in long, drawn-out lines until the sheen disappeared. Satisfied, he reveled in the feeling of your body. Brushing lightly along your lower back, he teased the expanse of your hips toying with the ties of your bathing suit bottoms. The rough drag of his calloused fingers sent a flush over your skin. Moving higher, he made his way over your shoulder blades and to your neck. Sweeping your braids to the side, he took his time, massaging the tense muscles along your spine. Finding a particularly sore spot at the top of your neck, you groaned lightly at the feeling. The sound of your pleasure was too much for Jake to handle. Every fiber of his being begged him to haul you close, to drag you away from this beach, but he knew better. He was in control, calm, cool, collected, and most importantly… not catching feelings.

“There ya go, you’re all set.” Stepping away from you, Jake cleared his throat before asking, “You gonna join?”

Collecting yourself, you snapped back into the banter that had defined your friendship with relative ease, “Absolutely not, I have no intention of getting sand in every crevice just so I can chafe for the rest of the day. I do, however, intend to lay here and bake in the sun. Now get the fuck out of here you're blocking the light. Have fun.” 

“Suit yourself.” Taking off his shirt, he discarded it and took off at a jog down the beach to join the others. His skin practically glowed in the bright light. Ignoring the flip of your stomach, you plopped down on the towel and grabbed your Kindle. Starting on your front, you adjusted your sunglasses and opened your book. Time passed without your notice, it was only the sudden appearance of a looming shadow that forced you to abandon the story on your screen. Rolling over, you looked up to find Jake standing above you. 

“You’re blocking the sun again asshole.” 

“Don’t be such a baby, you’ve been cooking over here for two hours.  Now, whatcha readin’?” Quick as lightning he bent down and grabbed your Kindle. His eyes roved over the page for a few seconds before a booming laugh erupted from him, “Holy shit. Smut. You’re reading filthy, filthy smut. On the beach…in public… with a straight face. Goddamn. You are an impressive woman.” 

Flying to your feet, you attempted to grab your Kindle, but were unsuccessful, “Stop acting like you’re shocked, and give that back to me.” 

Leaning in, his breath wafted over the shell of your ear as he spoke, “I’m not shocked, just intrigued. A vibrator and smut on the same day, keep it coming sweetheart.” 

Your lungs clenched at the feeling of him so close. Closing your eyes, you steadied yourself quickly. Still breathless, you struggled to bite back, “If you’re going to make fun of me, at least be nice and get me another drink. And don’t you dare get me that piss water you call beer.”

“Whatever you want darlin’,” giving back your Kindle, he stooped to get his wallet, “You want the usual?” 

“You’re actually gonna buy this time?”

“You wound me, but yes, I am.”

“Then yeah, I want our usual.” 

Jake took off a lumbering jog toward the Hard Deck. A few minutes later he returned with a crisp cold beer, and food to share, “One drink, and of course, chicken strips with curly fries.” 

Plopping down next to you, he placed the basket of food in your lap before stealing a few fries for himself. Carefully, he handed your drink over to let you take the first sip, “Thanks, Jake. You sure you don’t want me to pitch in?” 

“Don’t worry about it. This one’s on me, I owe you after this morning.”

Flashing a smile, you couldn’t help but stare. The sheen of sweat that had collected on his skin emphasized the waves of muscles just below the surface. Twisting, he reached across to grab the beer from your hand, his strong hand closed around the frosted bottle before bringing it to his lips. He took several large swigs and handed it back to you, “Thanks, darlin’.” 

“I mean you bought it, so…”

“True.”

A contented silence fell over the pair of you. Fighting for space on the small towel, your shoulders and legs brushed against each other. The rest of the crew were still fully engrossed in the game down by the water. Waves rolled in higher as the tide changed adding to the difficulty. Jake continued to steal fries and sips of your beer, but he left the crispiest of the fries for you. He was also smart enough to leave the chicken strips alone, mostly for fear of losing a finger if he tried to take one for himself. Sitting there next to Jake you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to the day’s earlier conversations.

“Jake?” 

“Hmm?” His eyes remained glued on the glistening surf in the distance. Needing him to reengage, you wrapped your palm around his bicep squeezing lightly before drifting down to thread your fingers together. You settled his hand on your lap, massaging the back with your thumb. The gentle motion refocused him, but it was the uncertain look in your eyes that had him struggling to breathe, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, I just….” Patiently he waited for you to continue, “Earlier… why did you say that?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Back at home, why did you say what you said?”

Fresh panic pulled his brows together, “Oh…I… never should have… I’m-”

“Don’t apologize…just tell me, did you mean it? That you’d want to see it… see me…because-”

“I meant it, every word.” 

The air around you grew thick with tension as you fought to control your lungs, “Good… ‘cause I want that too.” 

“Don’t fuck with me like this, Y/N” 

“I’m not. I want it… I want you.” Shyly you cradled his cheek with your free hand, brushing over the crest of his cheek. 

Breathing hard, Jake carefully took the empty food basket and placed the bottle inside. With that out of the way, he gingerly tucked your wind-swept baby hairs behind your ears, “You make me crazy. I can’t fuckin’ wait to get you home.” 

“Then what are you waiting for?” 

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but failing, you and Jake collected your stuff in record time. Forgetting proper goodbyes, you hurried to the truck without anyone stopping you to talk. You knew that the others would notice your absence eventually, but you couldn’t be bothered to give a shit. Flying out of the parking lot, Jake powered down the road toward your place, his wide palm settled on your thigh. The feel of your warm skin beneath his fingers centered him in the moment, reminding him that you were real…that this was real. 

Sliding his grip higher, Jake caressed the edge of your bathing suit bottoms. The spandex was buttery to the touch, the feel of it luxurious under his ministrations. With feather-light strokes, he teased pulling wanton gasps from you without fail. His eyes were fixed on the road knowing that if he dared to look he wouldn’t be able to make it the rest of the way home. 

Barely slowing down for the litany of stop signs, Jake made the final approach. Parked and engined turned off the moment he came to a complete stop, he practically sprinted from the truck toward your side. A metallic screech sounded as he yanked it open, and hauled you out of your seat. Just for a moment, he paused, pushing you back into the side of the vehicle. His hands roamed your body while yours encircled his neck. Standing close, he finally got a good look at you since leaving the beach. The same lust-filled look remained, but there was something new in your eyes. It took him only seconds to recognize it for what it was, nerves… hesitation. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do this. It’s okay if you change your mind. We can just sit and eat ice cream ‘til we’re sick, or-”

“I didn’t change my mind,” you interrupted his thought, “I want this… it’s just…I’ve never done this, and it’s been a long time since anyone has seen me when I… ya know.”

“It’s me, Y/N. You don’t have to worry.”

“You’re right, it is you… and that’s what makes me nervous.” 

“I’m making you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here." He hauled you impossibly closer, “We can stop any time you want, no questions asked. No judgment. Let me see you, Y/N. All of you.” 

His lips brushed along the column of your neck as his hand slipped down to palm your ass. Tipping your head back, it thumped lightly against the truck but gave him better access to the sensitive spot at the base of your throat. Goosebumps formed over your skin despite the oppressive heat that beat down upon you. Sensing your need, he shifted his grip lower, hauling up to his waist by the back of your thighs. Like this, holding you tightly as if it were the easiest and most natural thing in the world, he headed toward your home. He’d made it to the door before the moment finally broke, “I’m gonna have to put you down, Sugar. The door’s locked.” 

Stunned, and still mesmerized by the feeling of his hands on your body, it took you a second to register what he’d said, “Right… yeah… the door.” 

Reaching around you, he shoved the key into the lock and pushed you both inside. The rush of chilled air sent new shivers racing down your spine. Taking in your flushed cheeks, he tossed the key into the bowl by the door and found you again. Pressing you roughly against the wall, his lips brushed over the swell of your breasts as he spoke, “Now where were we?” 

You’d have let him stay like this, enjoying the perfect feel of his lips, but you knew if he kept going the reason you’d ended up in this situation in the first place would never happen, and you just couldn’t allow for that, “I thought you wanted to watch.” 

“I do.”

“That’s gonna be kind of hard with your mouth glued to my tits.” You gasped lightly at the sting of his teeth nipping at your sensitive flesh.

“What can I say, these are fucking perfect.” Laving over the tender spot with his tongue, he groaned at the tug of your fingers in his hair. 

“Jesus, Jake what is wrong with you?” Your attempt at humor had much less bite to it, the sarcasm replaced by lust. 

Suddenly, Jake stood up to his full height leaving behind his ministrations. He smirked like the devil at the sound of your whimper. Your eyes flashed open, pupils blown, your lips slightly parted as he stared down at you through heavy lids, “You don’t have enough time for that list.”

Lifting you again, his fingers dug into your ass and he held you close. The weight of him pressing you into the wall was all-encompassing. Fixing his grip he rolled his hips into yours, meeting the desperate cant of your own. Somehow Jake found the internal strength to pull you away and head down the hall. The walk to the bedroom was short, and before you knew it he was placing you gently on the bed. Capturing your lips in a burning kiss, he broke away sooner than you’d have liked. You let go of a pitiful whine and grabbed for his wrist in an attempt to keep him close. 

Chuckling, he pried your hands away, “I’m supposed to be watching remember?” Your eyes followed his hand as he reached out to grab the toy he’d returned to its spot on the nightstand earlier. Removing it from the charger, he moved to the empty side of the bed. He filled the spot next to you, leaving little space between your body and his, “You ready to put on a show, darlin’?”

“Yeah.” The rush of nerves lapped in waves, and every inch of your skin crawled with the need for him to touch you.

“Good.” You reached for the toy, but he pulled back his hand to stop you. The incredulous look on your face brought more laughter from him, “Not yet.”

“But you just said-”

“I know what I said. But first things first… we’ve gotta get rid of this.” he messed with the knots that held together the side of your bikini bottom.

“Do you want me to do it or would you like the honor?” You asked him shakily, your voice trembling with need.

“You’re offering?” 

“I mean I am putting on a show, might as well sweeten the deal, right?” 

“You’re incredible.” Tossing the object in his hand to the side, he quickly found the knot on the hip closest to him. With the deft control of a pilot, he untied the fabric with quick and precise movements. Taking a second to brush over the now exposed skin, he watched as your chest hitched. Methodically, he moved to the other side, repeating the same actions as before. With both sides hanging loose, he slowly peeled it from your body and tossed the bottoms toward the corner of the room. Jake’s wide palm ghosted over your ankle, working its way higher and higher until he brushed over your now exposed skin. The feather-light touch had you pleading for more. 

“Patience, sweetheart,” He whispered in your ear, “I’ve got you.”

His focus shifted to your top. Through the thin fabric, he could see the shape of your pert nipples begging for attention. Which he was more than happy to give. Swiftly, he untied the knot behind your neck and back. With it now discarded in the same manner as your bottoms, he dropped his head low. The soft weight of his lips around your nipple as he palmed this other forced your head back into the pillow. He stayed like this working you up for quite some time before settling back in his spot.

Reaching behind, he picked up the discarded toy and placed it gently in your palm. His hand stayed planted over yours while he dipped his head to capture your lips. Savoring the moment, he had to force himself to part from you. Jake adjusted himself on the bed so that he was leaning up against the pillows. His body still pressed firmly to yours, but from this angle, he could see every inch of you. 

Through heavy lids, you gazed up at him as you blindly turned on the toy. The soft sound of its vibration was muffled by your hand. Keeping your eyes on him, you teased a trail down your body with it, relishing the feel of its soft texture on your sensitive skin. Jake's eyes were laser-focused on the path you forged, his hands roaming over your body as he watched. Descending the last few inches, you met your mark with a jolt. The new sensation was met with the graze of Jake’s calloused fingers along your stomach. The pair of you stayed here, locked in this moment, your jaw going slack with pleasure as his brows furrowed together in anticipation.

Everything seemed to slow for Jake the longer he watched. His body thrummed with every gasp and moan you pulled from yourself, but it wasn’t enough. Hearing you click to the next setting, he slid his touch lower on your body. Caressing the slick skin between your legs, he played with you, teasing and toying more and more with each roll of your hips. The delicious whine he pulled from you as he dipped his fingers between your folds sent blood rushing through his body. 

“Jake, please…” you begged, but the rush of newfound desire clouded your ability to speak.

“Use your words, darlin’. Tell me what you want.” Swirling the pads of his fingers over your entrance, he smirked at the way your brows pulled together and your hips lifted to meet his touch. 

“Your… your fingers…” you stuttered, “I want your…” 

“That’s better.” Giving you what you wanted, Jake returned to his previous mission. Working you open, he studied every sound and movement you made, learning what brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your grip on the toy faltered as Jake found the perfect rhythm and pull.

“Fuck… I’m close,” 

“Let go, sweetheart. I wanna feel you come.” Jake could feel the gentle flutters of your body around him as he kept his relentless pace. 

With a final drag of his fingers, he brought you over the edge. A sharp gasp ripped from your lungs, and you struggled to keep the toy in place, your back arched off the bed. Your free hand reached to find Jake, needing to hold on to him as you rode through the pleasure that wracked your body. Unfettered, he kept at it until he saw your body fall limp on the mattress. 

As tenderly as possible, he pulled out of you, dragging his fingertips over your stomach and thighs leaving behind a glistening trail of your spend, “You are a goddamn vision.” 

Grabbing, the vibrator from your weak hand, he placed it on the nightstand before laying back and pulling you on top of him. Your leg hitched over his waist as his hands roved over the bare expanse of your back. You could feel him hard against you through the swimsuit he still wore. 

Mumbling into his chest, he could feel the vibration of your words, “I think it’s your turn.”

“As tempting as that is, I can still feel you shaking. Let’s give it a bit, yeah?” 

The heat of your cheek matched his flushed chest, “Yeah.” 

Jake brushed down the length of your spine, memorizing how perfectly your body fit alongside his. The pair of you stayed like this until sleep dragged you under. 

[soapy-birblover]

nah but I can’t stop thinking about their early days. Charles accompanying Edwin as he combs through records of old newspapers, only to find a short entry on the outcome of the case of his death. “Act of God.” The face Edwin might have made, the look Charles would give him, but no questions, it’s too soon for that. He might look into death records, to find his parents; when and where and how.

Would Charles attend his own funeral, to see who shows up? Edwin would be there with him, I think. Politely standing behind him, for after all, this is the funeral of a boy he’s only just getting to know. When Charles’ father gives a speech, is then when his jaw would tighten, and he would tell Edwin that he “wasn’t a nice man”?

Where would they wander, these ghosts? Did they find the attic for their agency immediately, or did they roam the streets of London, finding abandoned spots to rest in? They don’t need to sleep, after all. I think Charles would have tried his darnedest to. Edwin might be restless, after years spent in hell. Charles would be able to get him to fully unwind after 70 years of running. Edwin would state that his time in hell was a mistake, a technicality, but he wouldn’t elaborate. Not yet. And Charles would be fine with that.

I can imagine Charles trying and failing to catch Edwin up on 70 years of history. He wouldn’t be able to answer all of Edwin’s specific and detailed questions about why or who or exactly what happened next. Edwin would go to a library to figure it out himself, and Charles would go along too, because that’s what they do now. Wherever one wanders, the other goes.

They would eventually open up, their banter transitioning from the mundane to more personal, about their deaths and about their lives. They would establish and build the agency, and help hundreds of ghosts move on.

But in those early days, neither of them had a clue what they were doing, except that they wanted to do it together, with this stranger who was quickly becoming familiar. It would have felt both fragile and stable, as if their friendship could end in a matter of days or last forever. They were each other’s last bit of uncertainty in a world which otherwise looked unchanging, with their bodies frozen in time and the lack of stakes that comes with already being dead.

You could say they became each others’ unfinished business.

[winters-rose-daughterofcain]

I've been trying to phrase things eloquently and I really can't so here you go. Part two really felt like it was trying have its cake and eat it as well in a lot of ways, and it really didn't work.

You give Cressida a whole redemption arc and friendship and put her in an impossible situation and humanise and make you sympathise with her, then want me to hate her again?

You show how Pen uses LW as a coping mechanism and how it's not good for her or those around her and not have her drop it?

You want LW revealed to the ton but no real consequences?

You double down on how Pens family treat her only to have them all come together and be forgiven at the end?

You sideline Colin in his own damn season and butcher Penelope so badly I almost wanted less of her as well?

You can't have everything. Not in such a short time span at least, and it really suffer from it. If you wanted to give Cressida more depth and expend on her role why was she tossed away like nothing at the end? Why did Eloise abandon her? Why was she treated as awful in part two after being put in an actual horror show of a situation? I know they needed the blackmail plot but you can't just give her depth, make her the antagonist and then drop her storyline in the drain that's not how that works. That's not complexity that's laziness, and laziness they created mind you.

They didn't have to write Cressida the way they did this season, if they wanted to make it easy they could have had her marry off screen between seasons to a rich man, they could have had Eloise befriending her be a mistake and had a different arc there, they could have had her LW claim be for any number of reasons, and her blackmail because she still has it out for Penelope. They added this to the story, and as much as I was sceptical at first (I have seen far too many botched bully redemptions) I was glad they did it aded a lot of depth and character interaction, it created some interesting parallels between Cressida and Penelope and seeing Eloise in a different, less intimate friendship with someone who, ironically, is a lot more open with her was interesting. Incomplete, but interesting. It was good, or it could have been. But you can't just turn like that and have it still work. You can't just have Eloise abandon her and have it treated as the right thing to do. You can't leave her with that ending and consider it a happy one. You can't have your cake and eat it too. You didn't create a complex antagonist, you created a scared lost girl who was cruel because she was taught to be and you left her to burn.

You could have had Penelope and Cressida talk to each other, could have explored the ways the mirror and the ways they differ. You could have had Penelope struggle, but untimely empathise with Cressida and help her out, she could have forgiven her for her years of torment because she of all people understands why she did it. You could have had her forgiveness mirror Colin and Eloise forgiving her for LW. You could have looked at how Cressida's openness helped her friendship with Eloise and how Penelope might start to incorporate it. About how by nature of Cressida's openness Eloise is learning to see other perspectives and listen more even if she still has work. You could have done so much with female friendship and camaraderie and empathy and you just... didn't.

The Lady Whistledown this season was just... I think I have a thesis which is most of my thoughts on Polin.

Whistledown was meant to be the subplot to the Polin storyline, not the other way around.

Putting aside my own wishes to have her end Whistledown for her character and for her and Colins relationship, and her love of Colin, her continuing it isn't unexpected I was afraid of this and thought it might happen even if it's lazy. If that was it and if it was handled better I think I could begrudgingly live with it. But it's not. Not only was it handled so so poorly it was the whole second part and for what? Part one was Polin. Part two was Lady Whistledown drama with some cute Polin moments sprinkled in-between with some mandatory angst. Tell me the resolution to Colins arc now. Quickly. You can't he didn't have one, we barley even saw him through Episode seven and eight. There is so much romance in your purpose being the person you love, IF and only IF, it's reciprocal. Penelope literally says in season two, when she has been Whistledown for over a bloody year that she hasn't found her purpose yet. They were meant to find each other. To both have their writing as their passion and creativity and fulfilment, not Whistledown, but her manuscripts, his stories from around the word their joint and secret words. But their centre, their purpose, their guiding light was always meant to be each other. It's what kept Penelope sitting at that window, it's what draw Colin to her at every ball. They had all the potential and set up to be the most beautiful, genuine, heartfelt relationship. But no.

Colin deserved to be angry. The woman he loves has lied, has hurt him, has his from him after all the times he was venerable with her and so, so much more. They deserved to argue. Penelope deserved to be more upset over this than crying in the moment and walking past him later. That's the man she loves, who she thinks hates her, who she know if he did hate her she would deserve it and she wouldn't blame him for a second. They deserved time and space and Colin deserved explanations and apologies. They deserved a later, happier wedding, they both deserved to have their feelings heard and said and listened too. Is that not the core of their relationship? Listening to and seeing each other? Would that not lay the groundwork for some really good well earned conflict and a really rewording resolution? The groundwork was all there that's what's killing me. The set up was all there for something so good which is why I was excited. I know screen time is limited, I know there is only so many emotional conversations you can have on screen, but Bridgerton primarily just people talking on conversations, when it's there bloody season surely they can space out the conversations that need to happen in a way that works with pacing. And to be honest, the screen time defence only works when the screen time that they did have was allocated well. And I'm not taking subplots. Even if I think a few could have been trimmed, the screen time Polin did get was just used so so badly. Colin got dust and that didn't even feel like Penelope had the time, just a mouth piece for the writers.

Rapid fire stuff because I need to expand on the above in more detail later lol.

The acting was flawless give everyone on that set their flowers.

I really like the Mondrich's and seem to be the only one who likes seeing them lol, their sweet and always a good time they just need a better storyline, or you know, one that actually has a resolution.

Not what I would have done for Benedict and I still want to see him look at art again but let's hope season 4 is better lol.

Don't like the way Penelope's family stuff was done, specifically Portia but it is what I thought would happen. Disappointed but not surprised. I'm biased tho so I won't speak on it too much. I lose too much objectivity.

Hate hate hate the baby thing tho, it was fine as a subplot with her sisters but her having the boy was predictable and also dear god the girls nineteen for fucks sake. No. Hated that.

Francesca the absolute love of my life. I adore her and John, I liked the conflicted with Violet, loved everything about her storyline this season she was perfect, my favourite part honestly lol. Also Michaela Stirling get behind me NOW. Sapphic Bridgerton fans truly are the bravest soldiers cause istg. Also I don't trust this fandom with any actor or actresses period but especially not a Black actress who's "ruining" your favourite storyline. So I will be greatly enjoying everything I see of all three of them Francesca John and Michaela, while watching with a sharp eye for any bullshit.

Kate, also the love of my life it was so lovely to have her back even if just for a bit. Wish they did more with Anthony especially him and Colin tho, but again, wasn't expecting much more. I do wish they would write them out with a bit more subtly tho it's getting almost funny how obvious it is.

The Violet, Marcus, Lady Danbury plot I didn't actually mind. Could have been trimmed a bit but it was good seeing the adults in more depth, I haven't watched queen Charlotte tho so I kinda feel like I missed some things.

Overall, I liked certain parts of this season I really did, especially if I fully ignore the context, and I'm happy for everyone who enjoyed it truly, but it was have an entirely different ending in my head. I'll definitely write about at some point but who knows if anyone wants to see that lol.

[laura1633]

Maybe 1 would be good with Charles or Max helping one of the younger grid members building a nest.

Part 3 of the Omegaverse prompt game.

So I went with Omega Charles helping Omega Oscar. I threw in a little Alpha Max and Alpha Logan in here and some Lestappen <3

“This is a bit embarrassing,” Oscar nervously runs a hand through his hair, “but you are my grid father now,” the Australian gives Charles a wry knowing smile, “so I thought I could ask you something and you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“What’s happened?” Charles’ nostrils flare as he takes in the way Oscar’s scent is bitter around the edges. Charles can’t quite work out if that is normal for the Australian omega or not. Scent blockers are mandatory at the paddock so he’s not too familiar with what Oscar’s normal aroma is but omegas normally smell sweet unless anxious, “Did something bad happen?”

“No nothing bad” Oscar starts to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet.

“I can get Max to sort them out for you” Charles offers. His alpha can actually be really intimidating when he needs to be. Charles’ offer is not completely selfless, seeing Max growling and baring his teeth is actually a bit of a turn on, especially when he’s in full on protective mode. Then again Charles also loves the soft gentle alpha Max who is perfect for snuggling up in the nest with. 

“I don’t need anyone sorting out.” Oscar laughs, Charles’ offer at least cheering the younger omega up momentarily, “It’s about an alpha, kind of.” 

“Kind of?” Charles cocks an eyebrow curiously, he absolutely loves a bit of gossip, although he’s almost certain he already knows which alpha Oscar is talking about.

“I invited Logan to come nest with me tonight” Oscar’s cheeks start to glow as his shifts his eye line so he’s not looking directly at Charles anymore, “It is actually the first time we are going to nest together.”

“You want sex advice?” Charles’ mind immediately jumps to his first time ‘nesting’ with Max. 

“No. God no, I don’t need advice on that” Oscar blushes even redder as soon as the words leave his mouth, “Nesting. I need help with the actual nesting part.”

“Oh!” It’s Charles’ turn to get a little flustered as he realises his error, “You need nesting materials. I have some spare or reception would send you more up if you ask. I always get them to send up extra stuff.”

“It’s more - ” Oscar pauses and gives the nest on Charles’ hotel bed a good glance over, “- more how to build one.” 

“How to build a good one?” Charles steps to the side so Oscar can admire his handiwork, the Monegasque omega is very proud of his nests, Max always says they are the best around and Max doesn’t lie so Charles knows it must be true.

“How to build any nest” Oscar mumbles as he inches himself closer to the bed, his brow furrowing up as if he’s trying to make a mental note of how the pillows and blankets have all been placed together, “I have never built one before. I don’t know what is good and what is not.”

“Well this is a very good nest” Charles beams, “Wait,  you’ve never built one? Ever? What about when you are stressed?”

“I guess I just get into bed” Oscar shrugs, “Is that weird?”

“Weird?” Charles has always loved building nests, even long before he presented. He’s pretty sure that even if he had have been an alpha he would still have been chief nest maker in whatever relationship he found himself in. It’s fun and comforting, he’s never met an omega who doesn’t nest. Weird makes it sound so negative though, “No, it’s not weird at all.”

“So I thought, I want to make a nice nest. Logan has - , he is not having the best time and I want it to be nice and relaxing for him but also - “ 

“You want it to be more than just a friendship nest?” Charles’ lips curl upwards, he can’t help it, he loves playing matchmaker. It drives Max insane, mostly because Charles’ efforts sometimes go awry and Max somehow ends up having to be the one to sort things out. Charles is never going to give up on helping people find love though. 

“I think whether it’s a friendship nest or not will be up to him” Oscar smiles faintly, “We’ve known each other for so long, I am not sure if he is interested in me like that. I suppose the nest, the evening together, I thought maybe it might encourage him to make a move.”

Charles claps his hands together and squeals excitedly, “We will build the best nest there is. A romantic nest.”

“I didn’t even know there was such a thing” Oscar rubs at the back of his neck, “I thought it was just pillows and blankets.” 

“No” Charles shakes his head vigorously, “It can be just pillows and blankets but not for a special night. Climb in and I will show you this one.” 

“You have a special night planned with Max?” Oscar slips off his shoes and climbs into the nest after Charles. 

“Of course” Charles purrs excitedly.

“Is it an anniversary or something?”

“No” Charles smiles to himself, “Max is just great, don’t you think?” Charles has long since learnt that it’s nice to make an effort just because you want to, no waiting around for birthday or anniversaries, just living in the moment and making it special, “The first thing is the base, you want to pad all the cushions and pillows around and then drape the blankets. It’s a little like building a fort, and you can make it as spacious or as cosy as you want.”

“So cosy for a romantic night?” Oscar runs his hands over the piles of pillows Charles has arranged. 

“Exactly” Charles encourages. 

“I can do the building part, I think that will be fine” Oscar nods, “It’s everything else.” 

“So it’s the little touches that make the nest special” Charles hums, “I like to scent various little bits of clothing or fabric and tuck them in around the nest so it has my scent. I’ve also built in some of Max’s clothing, so the earthy scent, that is his.”

“Your scents are nice together” Oscar takes a long deep inhale, “I don’t have any of Logan’s clothing though.”

“That’s okay” Charles smiles reassuringly, “For the first time you can just have your scent there, once he is in the nest his scent will start to spread anyway. Or you could rip his top off and pop it in the nest” Charles giggles as he sees Oscar’s blush deepen, “If you want it to be extra cosy I would suggest pushing the bed into the corner of the room like I’ve done.”

“I can do that” Oscar nods along. 

“And then, see how I’ve hung the blanket, it’s from the curtain rail to the light fitting there. It’s just a little bonus if you can manage it.”

“Where did you get the lights from?” Oscar looks up to the fairy lights Charles has hung above the bed to create a nice ambiance. 

“I brought them with me, I have some spare, you can have them” Charles is already clambering up and over his nest to get his spare nesting materials out. The omega unravels a set of lights and hands them over to Oscar. Not all omegas add lights but Charles likes how romantic it makes everything feel. The Monegasque goes back to his extra hoard of items and pulls out some of the silk rose petals that he has scattered around everywhere and also hands them over to Oscar as well as some LED candles to pop around the place. 

“I can take all these?”

“Definitely” Charles motions around to where they’ve been placed in his own little construction, “You don’t have to have it exactly like this, just go with how you feel. I know Logan is going to love it anyway.”

“Hopefully” Oscar is back to fidgeting around nervously, “I guess after tonight I will know if he just wants to be friends or not.” 

***

“Don’t go in there feeling all defeatist” Max can’t believe he has ended up in Logan’s hotel room giving him  courting advice, especially given how many times he has told Charles not to interfere with other people’s relationships. This wasn’t Max’s fault though, Logan had been pacing the hotel room corridor anxiously when the Dutch alpha spotted him and he couldn’t exactly walk by like nothing was happening.

“I’m just being realistic” Logan sighs, “You don’t get it.”

“I am dating Charles” Max smiles, “Believe me when I say I know what it’s like to be nervous about having to approach a beautiful omega.  I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”

“It is different for you and Charles, you are meant to be together, ” Logan shrugs as he looks himself over in the mirror, “Oscar could get a much better alpha than me.” 

Max tuts and then leans in to sort out the buttons on Logan’s shirt. The American is clearly stressed because he’s managed to get them all out of sync. He also keeps wiping the palms of his hands against his trousers, another clear sign of anxiousness, “This is what I mean. Defeatist. It’s okay to be nervous but you shouldn’t be putting yourself down in the process.” 

Max knows all too well how Logan feels. He tried and failed countless times to ask Charles if he could court him before actually going for it. It’s so easy to get caught up in the negatives, to worry about being rejected, putting your heart out there is actually a really scary thing to do. 

“You don’t have to go in there and be really confident. Oscar isn’t going to care about how macho you can be” Max steps out the way so Logan can see himself in the mirror, “Just be honest about how you feel. Compliments are nice too, but most of all just be you and you’ll be fine.” 

“Being me has not worked out so well lately” Logan sighs. 

“No, no” Max shakes his head, “Lets not get into that again” the Dutch alpha has already given his very lengthy opinion on Logan’s season and given what he hopes is practical but encouraging advice, he can’t see how going over it all again is going to help right now, “This is nothing to do with racing, you don’t become a better alpha with each race win.”

“I suppose” Logan’s lips start to slowly curl upwards, “So you think I do have a chance?”

“Of course,” Max smiles reassuringly, “There is only one way to find out for sure though.”

“So should I go straight in there and ask him or wait until the end of the evening?” 

“Just see how it goes” Max looks Logan up and down again to make sure there are no more wardrobe malfunctions he needs to fix, “But given how nervous you are, I would just do it straight away. It will be less stressful. Tell him how you feel and give him these.” Max goes to hand over the bouquet of flowers that he was planning on giving to Charles. He keeps the jewellery he has also purchased tucked in his back pocket though, Charles definitively deserves to still get a gift. 

“I can’t take these”

“You have to take them” Max thrusts the flowers in to Logan’s hands, “It’s nice to show up with a gift, even if he doesn’t like flowers it’s the thought that counts.” 

“I didn’t think of it though” Logan points out with a faint laugh. 

“Well don’t tell him that, obviously!” Max laughs back, “Tell him you thought they smelt nice or looked pretty and reminded you of him”

“They do smell pretty and they do remind me of him” Logan agrees as he inhales the scent of the flowers he is clutching hold of tightly. 

“There you go” Max puffs out his chest feeling rather pleased with himself. Charles was right, matchmaking does make you feel good, “Just don’t panic, be honest, and see where it goes” Max nods as he tries to work out if he has forgot something, “Oh and most important of all, know that you are good enough.”

***

Max mouths slowly up the back of Charles’ neck as he cuddles around his omega in the nest. Each times his hips twitch forward Charles whimpers and then wiggles back down against the knot that is still pushed up inside him. 

“Baby please tell me you aren’t going to check that whilst I am still inside you?” Max mumbles as he hears Charles’ phone ping and sees the omega reaching out for it.

“Sorry” Charles giggles making his muscles flutter around Max’s knot, “It might be important.” 

“More important than - “ Max stops as he hears his own phone go off and remembers he told Logan to message him to let him know how it all went. 

“It will be Oscar” Charles slowly pulls the phone closer to him, “He came to me for advice.”

“Oscar?” Max shuffles around and pushes himself as far as he can into Charles’ body making the omega moan and grind backwards again. Max knows that if keeps the pressure just right then his knot will slowly deflate but he’ll still be hard and ready to go again. It’s a nice little trick he learnt that Charles always seems to appreciate.

“He wanted to build a nest for Logan so I helped him, with the rose petals and the lights” 

Max kisses the back of Charles’ head at the mention of all the little touches Charles adds to his nests, Max knows he might be bias but he is sure that his omega really does make the most beautiful nests around, “So does this mean Oscar wants to be more than friends with Logan?”

“Of course” Charles grins, “I just hope Logan took the hint.” 

“Oh I think he will have” Max rumbles gently as he circles his hips and draws another few pleasured noises from Charles, “I may have had a word with him.” 

“You told me not to get involved and you are off talking to Logan?!” 

Max laughs guiltily, “I didn’t mean to  get involved, he just looked like he needed advice. Come on then, check your phone, I need to know.” 

“Oh my god” Charles squeals as he opens his phone to see a picture of Oscar and Logan sat smiling broadly with their arms around each other. From what Charles can see the nest they are perched in also looks very impressive, Oscar is clearly a quick learner, “They look happy don’t they?”

“They do” Max grins as he peppers a few kisses along Charles’ shoulder blades. Oscar and Logan really do look endlessly happy arm in arm in a very fancy looking nest with a huge bouquet of flowers also making an appearance just in the corner of the shot. 

Charles has mentioned time and time again about himself and Max taking on more of a parenting role in the pack but Max has always been a little reluctant. The sight of Oscar and Logan so happy together is starting to make him feel differently though. Perhaps being the unofficial grid pack mom and dad and helping some of the younger drivers out wouldn’t be so terrible after all. 

[marbleboa]

UM UH REQUEST UH Matsuo and Minori having a chat after Mogami arc perhaps?? (NICHE FRIENDSHIP HEADCANNON BEAM ATTACK!!!!!!💥)

(note: this is an old ask, i am no longer taking requests!)

OOH, what an interesting idea to have those two interact! Really got the gears going on how they might meet. Minori strikes me as the type of gal to not shy away from the supernatural stuff even after such a traumatic event like her possession-rather the opposite.

With that whole mess it's like, Mogami wasn't just any old evil spirit, he has so much pain and resentment behind his actions, but I don't think Minori fully saw the source of all that like Mob did. She wants to know more about why all of that happened to her, find some form of closure, and having a greater understanding of the things would make her feel like she's more in control. A valuable thing, after it had been taken from her for so long.

And then, well, she's used to getting what she wants, so maybe her father pulls some strings and has a certain spirit specialist meet with her.

[iguessitsjustme]

I think it was really important specifically for Dee to kiss Yak when he did. Because now, no matter what happens in the future between him and Yak, no matter what pain could come, Dee can look back on his first kiss without regrets. Because that was a kiss made of love. It was made entirely of love for Yak. For who Yak is. For the bond they have. For their friendship. For their relationship. For them. Dee will always be able to look back on his first kiss and know that he got exactly what he wanted from it. He got to keep his silly notion of the perfect first kiss. He got to willingly give his kiss away to someone who he loved that needed it. Every single type of love went into that kiss and now Dee can finally, finally let himself breathe.

[bloompawz]

Partnering aromantic writing advice

The topic of aromantic characters dating is a bit of a contentious one in fandom spaces, but I think that it can be a great way to represent partnering aros if you do it right. I'm not an author, but I am a partnering aro, so I want to give some advice (or at least food for though) to those who may want to pair aromantic characters with partners in their fictional works.

1. Start with their aromanticism first.

This is very important. Do not slap their aromanticism on as an afterthought to their relationships. Develop their aromanticism first.

How do they feel about traditionally romantic activities? Do they enjoy them? Do they feel indifferent to them? Are they averse to them? Do they perceive those actions as inherently romantic in nature, or do they not? Does it depend on the action?

How do they experience attraction? Do they experience some amount of romantic attraction, or none at all? Does it happen only under very specific circumstances? Do they experience other forms of emotional attraction, like platonic or alterous attraction? Do they experience physical forms of attraction, like sexual, sensual, or aesthetic attraction?

Why have they chosen to be partnering? Are they doing it to fill an emotional need, in a world where friends often don't prioritize each other enough? Are they doing it to fill a physical need? Are they doing it because they enjoy traditionally romantic activities, regardless of whether or not they personally view those activities as romantic? Are they doing it for financial, social, and/or medical security? Are they doing it out of social pressure? Are they doing it because they perceive no inherent difference between partnership and friendship, and don't object to either?

Are they romantically partnering, or are they partnering in a different way, such as queerplatonic partnership? Are they partnering in multiple ways? What does that distinction look like for them? Is there a distinction at all?

Do they ever feel burdened by their aromanticism because they feel like it "get's in the way" of their desire for partnership? Tread very carefully if you go this route. Do not "cure" their aromanticism. Try to build towards self acceptance.

Aromantic people can date, but our aromanticism can and often does impact how we date, and how we feel about dating. Even when aromantic people are in committed relationships, or want to be, we are still aromantic.

2. Explore how this impacts their relationships.

Being aromantic often makes dating/partnering more complicated.

Did their partner(s) know that they're aromantic when they started dating? If not, do they know now? How did that conversation go?

Did the aromantic character know about their own aromanticism when they first started dating, or did they realize it later? How did they come to realize that? If they were in a relationship at the time of realizing it, did the realization spark anxiety over the future of their relationship? Did it spark relief?

Do they experience difficulty finding partners? Is it because people are less willing to date aromantic people? Is it because of highly limited attraction? Is it because the aromantic character has very specific needs when it comes to relationships, such as needing a less common (e.g. queerplatonic) relationship, or having a lot of strong boundaries around traditionally romantic activities? Is it because their orientation is difficult to explain to potential partners? Is it a combination of factors?

3. If you're writing fanfiction, respect the aromantic character's canon identity.

If an aromantic character is canonically non-partnering, romance-averse, romance-repulsed, or similar, keep it that way. Hands off.

[yaralulu]

I’ve seen a few people confused on if Feyre really manipulated Tamlin and Lucien into distrusting each other by alluding to some kind of affair between her and Lucien so let’s talk about it.

It’s important to note that Tamlin and Lucien’s relationship was already rocky at this point so it wasn’t that hard for Feyre to cause tension and distrust between them.But still she caused some irreparable damage to their friendship that wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for her manipulations.

Feyre was intentionally being more handsy and close to Lucien because she wanted to stir up distrust and suspicion not just between Tamlin and Lucien,but amongst the Spring Court.By alluding to an affair between the High Lord’s emissary and his consort,the very foundations of the court started to crack.Also Tamlin without Lucien by his side is just a recipe for disaster and Feyre knew that.

Feyre wanted other people to notice her and Lucien being close.She knew their newfound coziness would be reported back to Tamlin,planting seeds of doubt in his mind.

It was my first time on a horse in months, and I was stiff enough that I could barely move as the party dismounted. I gave Lucien a subtle, pleading look, and he barely hid his smirk as he sauntered over to me.Our dispersing party watched as he braced my waist in his broad hands and easily hefted me off the horse, none more closely than lanthe.

I'd rolled onto Lucien's bedroll at some point, any schemes indeed second to my most pressing demand—warmth. But I had no doubt Jurian would tuck away the information to throw in Tamlin's face when we returned: we'd shared a tent, and had been very cozy upon awakening.

But it was Jurian right on their heels, as if he'd been divulging the details of his surveying who smiled at the sight of us, knee to knee and nearly nose to nose."Careful, Lucien," the warrior sneered. "You see what happens to males who touch the HighLord's belongings."

So even when Tamlin wasn’t around Feyre was continuing this act because she wanted everyone to start thinking something was happening between her and Lucien.And her efforts were not in vain.Her plan worked..a little too well even.

"You don't act that way with Feyre." A silk-wrapped threat. "You're mistaken.” "Am I?" Twigs and leaves crunched, as if she was circling him. "You put your hands all over her." I had done my job too well, provoked her jealousy too much with every instance I'd found ways to get Lucien to touch me in her presence, in Tamlin's presence.

Then we have the infamous nightmare scene.The whole thing was a set up so that Tamlin would catch his bestfriend and Feyre in a compromising position after he’d probably already heard rumors about them.She wanted Tamlin to start questioning Lucien and his intentions.

I had no doubt Tamlin was now running through every look and conversation since then. Every time Lucien had intervened on my behalf, both Under the Mountain and afterward. Weighing how much that new mating bond with Elain held sway over his friend.

By planting doubt and suspicion in Tamlin’s mind,Feyre’s schemes worked and Tamlin and Lucien’s friendship suffered.

Tamlin and Lucien, it seemed, had spoken before the meal, but the latter made a point to keep a healthy distance from me. To not look at or speak to me, as if still needing to convince Tamlin of our innocence.

I hauled myself into the canvas tent when the fire was dying out, the space barely big enough for Lucien and me to sleep shoulder to shoulder. "Maybe I should sleep out there." I rolled my eyes. "Please."A wary, considering glance as he knelt and removed his boots. "You know Tamlin can be ...sensitive about things."

So yeah everything Feyre did was intentional and with purpose.She used Lucien to make Tamlin jealous therefore condemning their friendship.She roped him into her schemes which ended up having detrimental effects not just on his relationship with Tamlin but on his entire reputation in Spring.And sure Tamlin and Lucien’s friendship was already not the greatest but Feyre made things exponentially so much worse.