#does it mean something that my friend thinks i’m a goddess. i mean. she is my best friend so probably not

[fingertipsmp3]

My American friend who I’m visiting next month has apparently described me to her (very hot) friend as, and I quote, “a 6’1 English goddess”. Send help

[mvltisstuff]

hii!! i hope your summer has been/was wonderful!!

if it’s possible could you do an evan buckley request to “begin again” by taylor swift?

where reader was in a really rough relationship and now with buck he’s treating her like an actual goddess and she’s constantly questioning to herself how she deserves it and mentioning how weird it is that he actually cares about/loves her.

thank you so so much in advance!! 🫶

begin again - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @meep-meep-richie

a/n: guys i’m SO sorry i have been so slow again w the fics, i’ve just been trying to enjoy summer as much as i can, but i certainly have some coming your way ;)) thank you for the request love, and i hope the rest of your august is lovely <3 i did a bit of a different style with this, hope you enjoy

“can you keep your location on this time?” her boyfriend asks, seeing her getting ready in the mirror.

“i’m just going to work, thomas,” y/n chuckles, thinking it was harmless, but she was his eyes roll almost to the back of his head.

“i’m just asking you one thing, y/n,” he groans.

“i just think you could trust me, i have a long shift today,” she brushes her hair back into an elastic, getting her belongings before grabbing her phone. she always tells herself that she’ll stand up for herself, but she falls into his traps anyway. she presses the small button hesitantly, showing him her location.

“hi, buck!” she greeted, as he walks in the door. he jogs right up to her, kissing the side of her cheek as she giggles into his touch. “i’m going out with some friends tonight, but i’ll be back before you know it so we can spend time together!”

“don’t rush, baby,” he laughs. “take your time with your friends, have a fun night.” he goes to love his stuff onto his counter, but she follows up behind him.

“oh, here, i’ll send you the link to find my friends,” she looks down at her phone, so she doesn’t see the confusion written all over his face.

“the link to what?”

“i’m just gonna send you my location, so you don’t have to ask.”

“honey, i don’t need your location,” he smiles lightly, giving her reassurance and it’s her turn to be confused.

“a-are you sure?” her nose crinkles along with her brows.

“of course, i trust you, always,” he tells her, letting the weight on her shoulders drop. she was hoping he wasn’t mad, but he would never, ever get mad at her for something as silly as that.

“oh!” she says, shocked but still appreciating him. “okay, thank you, i’ll be back in a bit.”

“don’t thank me, just be safe,” he pecks her lips again, watching her skip happily out the door.

y/n looked back in the long mirror again, slipping on a pair of heels to compliment the adorable dress she was wearing. they went along perfectly, and now she finally had an occasion to wear them. she was thrilled to show thomas her outfit, feeling pretty in her own skin and twirling the dress out in the mirror. she turned around, expecting a bright smirk on his face, but she was met with a flat expression.

“what’s wrong?” she asked, concern written in her words.

“nothing,” he grumbles, moving over to adjust his sleeves and grab something from the nightstand.

“no, somethings wrong. i can tell in your voice.”

“y/n, leave it,” he sighs, looking over at y/n who’s still waiting for a response. “are you sure you want to wear that?”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, its a bit too much, don’t you think?” y/n looked back at the dress, not seeing anything wrong with it. maybe it was the design, her body, but clearly something was wrong with it. maybe she just couldn’t see the way he does. “we’re not going to the club, are we?”

“no, but i wanted to look nice.”

“maybe you should keep looking,” he tried to disguise his heartbreaking words with a light grin, but y/n saw right through it. he loves her, he just wants what’s best for her and she knows he knows best. so, she hung the dress back up and put the heels back in their box. she ran into the bathroom to change again, practicing happy smiles and tried to fight back the stinging tears in her eyes. he doesn’t want her to ruin her makeup.

buck and y/n’s schedules had aligned again, letting her finally be able to meet his real work family. she was so happy she could finally enter this part of his life, and only wanted to support all of his team at the 118.

y/n had been in the bathroom for a while, a little too long for buck to not have any concern. she was examining her outfit, the same dress she wore when thomas told her to take it off. she still felt beautiful in it, but not as much as she did. she never realized how easily someone could take away her confidence. she figured she’d at least leave a pair of new heels out, thinking buck would appreciate the simple sandal.

“y/n?” he knocks, lightly. “you doing alright, honey?”

“yeah!” she answers, suddenly getting that nervous feeling in her stomach. she hesitated on opening the door, but she clicked the lock and pulled it open. she felt more vulnerable than ever standing in front of him. she knew his reaction and that he’d want it off, but she was only met with complete admiration.

“woah,” he exhales, looking at her gorgeous dress and wonderful figure underneath.

“i can change if you don’t want me to wear this, i have a few more options in the bathro-“

“are you kidding? you have to wear this, you look so beautiful in this, y/n!”

“i do?” she asks, looking into his genuine eyes.

“of course you do, what makes you say that?”

“it’s just that, you know, it’s nothing,” she tried to walk back over to the shoe rack, looking for her sandals but his hand stops her.

“hey, talk to me,” buck requests, softly but also wanting her to be able to open up.

“my ex didn’t like this dress, he didn’t think i was good enough for a piece of fabric,” she laughs sarcastically, but buck can tell it hurts her still.

“well, he’s a dumbass, a dumbass who lost you,” he replies. “i’ve never seen someone more gorgeous than you, i don’t care what anyone says. i’ll spend every day proving it to you.”

“how do you do that?”

“do what?”

“just make everything so much better without trying?”

“oh, you know,” buck jokes, putting his arm around her shoulder. “im a natural, that’s all.” she slaps his shoulder, laughing at him before going off to see his family.

y/n stood in the corner of the room in an outfit she never wanted to wear today. she watched everyone converse in a friendly way, only few people stopping by to say hello. even if they did, it lasted a few minutes. she quickly became a decoration to thomas, just being there for silent support before he ditched her for more rich businesspeople. she sipped lightly at her small glass of champagne, wishing she had the whole bottle with her.

he didn’t see any potential in her, not even caring to introduce her until someone asked who she was. she never had felt more out of place, but it became a regular thing. he’d venture off to talk to other people, leaving y/n in the dark. she felt like she was just swept under the rug, something to deal with later.

“bobby, come over here!” buck shouted across the room, waving his hand for bobby to come over. when he did, he had a welcoming smile on his face and shook y/n’s hand. “this is my girlfriend, y/n.”

“it’s nice to finally meet you, y/n,” he says. “we’ve heard a lot about you, like a lot.”

“thank you for having me today,” she replies gracefully, looking at buck who’s glancing back at her with pride in his face.

“it’s our pleasure, really, you’re a delight, y/n.” athena walks in, wrapping her arm around bobby’s waist and offering y/n a drink. buck guides her over to chim and hen who sat together on one of the benches in the grants backyard.

“y/n, this is henrietta, or hen, and then chimney,” buck smiles, his hand still connected with hers and letting her say hello to everyone.

“my real names howard, by the way, not sure if that one bothered to mention that,” chimney pokes fun at buck, who pretends to be offended for a moment but just lets it be.

“i’m glad we can put this lovely face to the name,” hen beams, looking at y/n and feeling the positivity radiating from her. “maybe you can rub off on that one.”

“my names not ‘that one’ by the way, and i’m right here!” buck fake complains, but knowing they all have a good heart. “i’m about to leave and take her with me.”

everyone groans in complaint, making y/n laugh and buck leading her to sit next to everyone. she makes her rounds saying hello to athena’s kids and eddie, everyone finding her to be so graceful. the acceptance from everyone was fully unexpected on y/n’s part, barely being able to comprehend how buck could be so in love with her. she had stepped out for a moment after assisting athena and bobby in the kitchen, buck following right after her.

y/n never got this treatment from thomas, always feeling like she had to beg for it but it was so easy for buck. it made her years of insecurity and questioning vanish, only to be replaced with the security from her loving man.

“you alright?” he asks, meeting her by the steps of the home.

“yeah, i’m perfect!” she tells him. “i just didn’t expect this.”

“they all love you, what’s not to love?” he replies softly, looking her up and down. “you’re smart, you’re the sweetest person i’ve ever met, you’re wonderful in every way, y/n.”

“i remember when thomas took me to work events, and i was just in the corner with a drink. no one really noticed i was there, so it just came as a surprise to see you so affectionate.”

“i’ll always show you off, you’re the best woman i’ve ever met. i want the whole world to know that i managed to get you, and also,” he kisses her lips, bringing her thoughts back down to earth to ease her worries. “i love you, a lot.”

in that moment, y/n knew buck was everything that her ex could never be.

[xkaidaxxxx]

Aizawa's New Girl

mentions: Unhappy marriage, Wifie material, tease, Fluff.

reblogs are appreciated <3

I am taking requests

Aizawa has been best friends with you since you both were in high school.You've loved him for such a long time but he’s been married for 5 years now. Recently, that means 2 years ago he hated his marriage. His wife started bitching for kids. His words not yours. He was not ready for that. From there she started making life impossible for him as well. Here he is now at your home.

“ I think I should divorce her.” he said to you. You are all for it. “You should divorce her Shōta. She’s been treating you like crap. How do you even deal with that?” you asked and served him dinner.You’re basically his wife at this point. You have been cooking his meals. He passes by for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Every week he comes to wash his clothes since he doesn’t even want to see her face. After a while he’d leave his clothes in your guest room. Sometimes he crashes the night. “ I’m tired of her. I nap during school hours, to me that says a lot. My favorite meal. You’re the best y/n.” he said. You felt bad for him. He’s your best friend.  “I’m here to support you. Always.” you said.

2 weeks later he got a great lawyer and he kicked his wife out of HIS house. He’s healing and you’re there to support him. “Thanks for helping me with this. You’re always by my side. I appreciate everything you do for me.” he said. “ Better together, remember.” you replied. You then heard banging from the door. He checked the cameras and you got your quirk ready. “It’s her. Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” he said pressing a button. You heard the sprinklers go off and you started laughing. He laughed along with you. Her screams made it even funnier. 

Time passed and he is happily divorced. He ended up moving in with you and left his old home as a vacation home. You bring him lunch every day to work. As you walked inside the students whispered. Some of the male students were drooling. You were wearing simple clothing. Although your top did show cleavage and your skirt was very teaseful. You walked up to the boys. “Hey, your Aizawa’s students. Can you tell me where I can find him if he’s not in this office?” You asked with a smile. The girls immediately knew you loved him. “ you’re so pretty.” Denki said. “Thank you sweetie” you replied “If he’s not in this office, he’s in class or resting outside,” Bakugou said. You booped his nose. The rest tried holding back their laughs. “DO YOU WANT TO DIE !!??” He yelled. “WHY YOU DISRESPECTFUL SON OF A BI-“ you yelled and got interrupted by the love of your life. “Hey” he greeted. “you’re in love with him, right? Omg?” Mina was losing her mind. “Uh, he’s my bestie girly pop.” You replied. “Yeah, which is why you show up every day with lunch for him.” She giggled. The girls giggled and whispered. “Umm, I made your favorite today. I hope you enjoy it.” You said handing him a large bento box. He looked at you up and down, loving how sexy you look. He gulped as he took the bento box from you.“I always enjoy your meals. I appreciate you coming to drop off lunch.” He replied and soon you had to head home. “Mr.Aizawa you were totally checking her out. She is a goddess you better make a move before somebody else does.” Mina said and the rest of the girls agreed. She was right and deep down he knew that so once school ended he went to buy you a pretty diamond jewelry set, a special specific ring, and a bouquet of 100 red roses. He was taking forever. “It’s already 9pm,” you said aloud. “Mhm, maybe something came up with hero work.” You yawned. Minutes later he showed up. “Y/n! Hey! Sorry, I’m late, come downstairs! I have something for you!” He called out. “I’m in the kitchen!” You replied cleaning the counter. “Close your eyes.” He ordered and you did just that. He stood in front of you. “Open.” He said. You opened your eyes and saw the beautiful sight. “ I know…I suck at gifts but umm…I hope this shows how much I love and appreciate everything you do for me. I’m trying to ask if you want to be my girlfriend? Partner? Wife? Girlfriend?” He asked, choosing many titles because he had no idea what he was doing. “ Girlfriend and then hopefully wife.” You replied. You shared a soft and loving kiss with him. Aizawa has no idea how much his life is going to change now that he’s with the woman he’s always loved and will forever.

[jobean12-blog]

Feed the Flame

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader 

Word Count: 2,869

Summary: You like Eddie. He likes you. You’re both shy and sort of oblivious but thankfully Robin and Steve play matchmaker. 

Author’s Note: I don’t even know where I got this idea but I’m so in love with it and how fun and ridiculous Steve and Robin are and it was just so fun to write! And then adding the skating was the best because I love it and thank you so much to my sweet loves @borikenlove and @irisofeden for reassuring me that skating would be an Eddie thing! Hope you all enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my lovely friend @wannabehamlet thank you sweets! 💕

PS The song I chose for the ending is a fave of mine, and although it didn’t come out until 1987, we are gonna pretend that it is 1987 and EVERYHTING IS FINE! 😁😁💕 Listen HERE

Warnings: lots of fun and fluff, flirting, some tension, sweetness, light teasing, good music! 

Gif NOT MINE: Credit goes to @rosetico thank you lovely! 🥰

Eddie Munson Masterlist

“You know he’s got the hots for you right?”

At Robin’s matter of fact statement, you look up with a pinched face, the polish brush motionless between your fingers.

“Nuh uh, he doesn’t talk to me enough!” you shoot back. “And I know he talks because he’s always yapping with Dustin and Mike and Lucas! Shit, he even talks to Steve.”

“That’s only because he thinks you’re like an elf Goddess, princess, warrior faery or something…Steve however…is not.”

You stare at your friend, blinking several times before bursting into a fit of giggles. She joins you after throwing your iron maiden cassette at your head.

“Whatever,” she says through her laughter. “Pay better attention when we all go for ice cream this weekend. You’ll see.”

With an obnoxious blow of a raspberry, you echo her “whatever” and go back to painting your nails but as soon as your teeth dig into your bottom lip Robin let’s out an excited screech.

“I knew it! Tell me everything!” she insists.

You look up at her, unable to stop your growing smile.

“He has the most beautiful brown eyes I’ve ever seen!” you gush, giggling and dropping to the bed. “And I love his hair!”

Robin presses a hand to her chest, dropping her head back and squealing louder. “You’ve got it bad girl.”

“You’re gonna actually talk to her Saturday right?” Steve asks as he follows Eddie out of the arcade. “You know more than like ‘hello and what’s up?’”

“Dude. It’s not that easy,” Eddie states before chewing on a piece of his hair. “I can’t just be like ‘hey, I think you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and I want you to be my girl. Let’s play DnD and you can listen to me play guitar and…’”

Steve rolls his eyes. “No. You can’t say that! I mean the guitar stuff is good, chicks love a musician but…”

With an exasperated sigh Steve lays one hand on Eddie’s shoulder, pinching the bridge of his nose with the other.

“Listen Munson. Just…try to say something. Otherwise, you might miss your opportunity and believe me…I know how bad that sucks,” Steve admits.

Eddie’s eyes soften and he nods his head in understanding. “I’ll try. I really like her but I suck at this.”

“Well according to Henderson you’re like the most amazing Dungeon Dude there is,” Steve replies with a theatric wave of his hands. “Can’t you use some of that shit on her?”

“Dungeon Dude?” Eddie scoffs, his eyes wide. “You mean Dungeon Master!”

“Whatever,” Steve grumbles, pushing his flopping hair out of his face. “But apparently you really put on a show so you know…. make it happen!”

“Henderson,” Eddie murmurs. “Love that kid!”

You’re on the line at Scoops Ahoy, staring at the list of flavors when Robin slides up behind you.

“You sure look pretty tonight,” she giggles. “I wonder why???”

“Just for you,” you tell her, winking.

“Well, I really appreciate it and so does someone else,” she teases.

You narrow your eyes and start to turn around toward the table where your friends are sitting.

“Don’t look now!” Robin whisper shouts. “He’s staring again.”

“I don’t believe you!”

And before she can stop you, you spin on your heel and look straight at Eddie, his eyes on you. Your little gasp makes Robin snort and thankfully you have a mind enough to throw him a little wave. His lips part in a smile and he waves back.  

“Well, that wasn’t a complete bomb!” Robin says before she groans and adds, “ah shit, here comes Jock Carver.”

You let out an audible groan and set your jaw in hard line, continuing to stare at the ice cream flavors.

“You here all by yourself beautiful?” Jason asks when he walks up next to you.

Robin’s eyes widen and she scoffs. “Obviously not asshole.”

You laugh and give Robin’s hand a squeeze. “No. I’m with my friends,” you answer Jason without glancing his way.

He laughs mockingly and turns his head to glare at your table of friends. “Hanging with the freaks again I see.”

“Mind your business Carver,” you seethe. “No one asked you.”

“But you know I’d show you a better time right?” Jason croons, stepping closer to you.

You back away with a sour look on your face, thankful that the cashier calls for you next to take your order.

“Fucking Carver. He’s such a d bag,” Steve mutters.

“Why is he talking to her?” Eddie asks, his eyes glued to you during the whole interaction with Jason.

“Because he’s been asking her out all year,” Max states with a roll of her eyes. “Duh.”

Eddie swallows hard and his worried eyes turn to Steve.

“She keeps saying no,” Steve informs Eddie, giving him a knowing look.

When Eddie’s eyes swing back to you, you’re about to pay for your ice cream. Robin walks back to the table and sits next to Steve, pushing everyone around the booth until there’s no room left.

“Hey, you guys didn’t leave me a seat, shove over!” you say when you arrive with your cone.

Robin tries to move but Steve stays glued to the seat.

“We can’t,” Steve says, shrugging his shoulders, “no room.”

Robin elbows Steve and pushes him again. Steve just smiles wider at you.

“What the hell Harrington, make room,” Robin grumbles under her breath.

“Will you quit it,” Steve grumbles back. “I’ve got this.”

Before Robin can give him a sassy reply, Steve blurts out. “Just sit with Eddie.”

“There’s no room,” you state with a deadpan look before smiling sweetly at Eddie. “What do you want me to do? Sit in his lap?”

Robin eyes light up in understanding and she knocks her knee into Steve’s under the table, the action making Steve wince.

“YES!” Robin exclaims. “That’s exactly what you have to do. Right Eddie?”

Dustin, Lucas, Max and Mike are lost in their own argument over the best flavor of ice cream at Scoops Ahoy and are oblivious to the mayhem happening at the front of the table.

You shoot Robin a death glare that only hardens when you move to Steve’s agreeable face, his eyebrows nearly meeting his extremely high hairline.  

You take a deep breath and turn to Eddie to apologize but when you do he spreads his legs and pats his thigh.

“It’s all yours,” Eddie says, clearing his throat.

Before giving yourself time to have a freak out you sit, your body tingling the moment his arm rests gently around your waist.

“Are you comfortable?” he asks.

“Very,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.

Deciding the best thing to do is to eat your rapidly melting ice cream you take a lick and try to look anywhere but at Steve and Robin’s overly excited faces.

“That’s my favorite flavor too,” Eddie says. “It’s the best one.”

Your reply is interrupted by Dustin, still oblivious, when he shouts, “NO WAY EDDIE!”

Max’s squints at you and Eddie, clearly assessing. “Why are you in his lap?”

“NO ROOM!” Robin interjects loudly. “And no way what Henderson! No one likes cherry flavor!”

Max looks less than convinced with a roll of her eyes but doesn’t say more while Dustin shoots back at Robin, “YES THEY DO, right Lucas.”

Lucas just shakes his head, his lip curled up in disgust. “NO. Oreo Cookies and Cream is the best.”

Dustin’s head falls back against the cushioned seat and he covers his eyes. “Can’t go anywhere with you people.”

“Want some?” you ask Eddie, turning slightly so you can see him better.

Eddie wraps his hand around your hand that’s around the cone and pulls the vanilla ice cream to his lips, taking a lick while he keeps his eyes on you.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “definitely the best flavor.”

Dustin scoffs and stares at Eddie in betrayed disbelief while Robin and Steve can barely contain their delight.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Mike asks, looking pointedly at Steve and Robin.

“Nothing. Why would anything be wrong. Can’t we enjoy our ice cream with friends,” Robin says quickly and slightly panicked.

“Don’t worry about what’s going on with the adults,” Steve says, his no nonsense look directed at all four kids.

The four kids roll their eyes in unison before Dustin shouts, “hey you guys wanna go to the roller rink tonight?”

“You can’t skate Dustin!” Lucas points out with a smirk.

“Well, I’ll never get better if I don’t practice!” Dustin replies, lifting his brows.

“I love roller skating!” you add, turning to Eddie. “Are you in?”

“You betcha,” he answers.

Eddie offers to drive you to the rink.

“I wanna go with you guys too,” Dustin chimes in.

“Nope Henderson. You’re coming with me,” Steve states, pointing to his car.

“I’ll go with them,” Mike says, walking toward you and Eddie.

“No, you won’t,” Robin says, redirecting Mike toward Steve’s car. “You’re coming with us too.”

“There’s NO ROOM!” Lucas shouts. “Why can’t someone go with them?”

“Just get in the car you nerds,” Max grumbles. “You’re so clueless.”

Lucas, Mike and Dustin all exchange confused looks before huffing and getting in the car. Max glares at Steve and Robin, then at you and Eddie.

“You jerks owe me one,” she grits out before smooshing into the backseat and slamming the door.

You and Eddie exchange a wide-eyed look before he opens the door to the van to let you in and you both miss the silent high five between Robin and Steve.

“How about some Iron Maiden?” Eddie asks you when he starts to drive.

“Sounds great,” you answer, going through his cassettes.

“On no! Wait,” you exclaim. “Put this on.”

You hand him ‘Defenders of the Faith’ by Judas Priest.

“I love this album,” Eddie cheers as he pops it into the cassette player.

Both you and Eddie are still singing when you get out of the car and head into the rink.

“When is he gonna kiss her?” Robin whispers to Steve as they watch you and Eddie walk in.

“At least they’re talking,” Steve says with a nose scrunch.

“Less talking. More kissing,” Robin huffs. “We have to do more.”

“Woah, woah,” Steve says, holding his hands up in front of Robin. “Let’s at least see how they do skating, huh?”

“You’re such a butthead Harrington,” Robin says before walking off to the lockers.

“It’s been a while since I’ve skated,” Eddie admits as he ties his roller skates. “I hope I don’t suck.”

“That’s ok. I’m probably going to suck too,” you giggle.

Dustin shakily skates by and waves, his grin wide as he gives you an enthusiastic thumbs up.

“I can’t wait to see this,” Eddie smiles, shooting Dustin two thumbs up back.

“Me either,” you laugh.

When you stand you’re a little wobbly but make it to the door of the rink without too much trouble.

“So far so good,” Eddie says from behind you.

You step onto the smooth rink, the disco lights dancing off the shiny floor in multiple colors and the music thumping loudly in your ears.

‘Another One Bites the Dust’ by Queen starts to play and you give Eddie a mischievous smile.

“Not foreboding at all!”

Just as you finish saying the words you lose your balance and careen backward straight into Eddie’s arms.

“I gotcha sweetheart,” he whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Thanks,” you breathe out, exhaling when you’re back upright.

His arm slides from around your waist to your hand and his fingers close tightly around it.

“This way if one of us starts to go down we can go together,” he winks.

“More cushioning,” you answer with a smile.

“You can’t stand here and hang on to the wall the whole time and stare at them! It’s creepy Robin!” Steve hisses. “SKATE!”

“I can’t skate HARRINGTON!” Robin answers back.

Steve rolls his eyes and pushes off the wall, keeping his balance and skating around to check on the kids. Robin catches you and Eddie coming around the rink, your hands entwined and your faces bright with smiles.

Robin waits for you two to pass, oblivious to her presence as she pushes off right behind you, immediately flailing her arms wildly to keep balance. Just before she falls forward she grabs the back of your shirt, tugging hard and making you stumble.

Naturally so does Eddie and in a tangle of arms and legs you all go down.

Eddie breaks most of your fall and you find yourself face to face with him and half lying on top of him while Robin is smiling brightly from beside you and waving.

“Sorry guys! Lost my balance,” Robin says cheerily.

Steve skates over and stops, hands on his hips. “You ok?” he asks, his tone slightly irritated.

“Yup! Great!” Robin chimes, grabbing Steve’s leg until he helps her up. “Let’s go,” she says, pulling him away.

“You sure you’re ok?” Eddie asks you, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

“You smell good,” you blurt out, brushing a curl from his face. “And uh, yea…totally fine,” you finish, dropping your head to hide in his chest.

You finally lift your face and look at him, your smile sheepish.

“Thanks,” he starts, his cheeks pink. “So do you.”

He helps you up and keeps a hold of your hand.

“DAMNIT WHY DIDN’T THAT WORK!” Robin complains, shoving Steve in the shoulder.

“Will you calm down! They’re not gonna make out of the floor of the rink!” Steve exclaims, his face pinched with thought. “Wait! I have an idea!”

He waggles his brows before skating off the rink and over to the DJ booth. Robin watches him flirt his way through whatever plan he has and when he returns he’s wearing a triumphant grin.

“Do I wanna know?” Robin asks.

“Just wait for it,” Steve answers.

You and Eddie make your way past Dustin, who is still clinging to the wall but all smiles and you wave to Lucas, Mike and Max when you see them skate by, Max’s eyes sparkling when she zeroes in on your grasped hands.

When you reach the far end of the rink the lights suddenly go down low and the sounds of ‘Double Dutch Bus’ by Frankie Smith fade, leading straight into ‘The Flame’ by Cheap Trick.

“Oh, I love this song!!!” you squeal, squeezing Eddie’s hand.

“There’s some good guitar action in this one,” Eddie adds.

“And that’s our cue to get off the rink,” Robin says, tugging at Steve’s sweatshirt.

“EXACTLY!” Steve answers, looking way too proud of himself. “Couples skate!”

Robin’s mouth falls open and she claps happily. “I have to give it to you Harrington. Well played.”

“Come on let’s go make sure the little buttheads don’t interfere,” Robin continues, gesturing toward Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Max.

“Good idea,” Steve says, “but I have a feeling Max won’t let them.”

"Can you play this on guitar?” you ask Eddie.

“I haven’t tried but I will if you want,” he says sweetly. “Can’t be too hard.”

“Really Eddie!?”

“Of course,” he assures you as he starts to slow down and pull you toward the wall.

The change in speed makes your feet start to slide out from under you and Eddie’s arms shoot out to steady you when your body meets the wall.

You turn to face him and he rolls into you, placing his arms along the railing on either side of you.

“Why did you stop?” you squeak out as he inches closer.

“Just taking a break,” he whispers and you watch as his gaze drops to your lips, his warm breath fanning your cheek.

He bends down, lips lightly brushing the soft skin of your cheek.

“If you want me to stop, tell me now.”

You say nothing, his delicate touch making your entire body tremble and you grab hold of the front of his denim vest. His lips barely graze yours, so soft that your breath hitches in a quiet gasp.

“Or now?” he asks.

Your eyes flutter closed but you make no sound at all and then his lips are on yours.

He gathers you closer, the feel of his body pressed tight to yours making your lips part and he deepens the kiss. The sounds of Cheap Trick grow fainter and even on your skates you feel as if you’re floating, your senses completely overwhelmed by him.

His hand slips under your shirt, warm against your skin and his rings brush along your waist until his fingertips smooth down your spine, pulling you closer and leaving no space between your bodies.

You finally pull away, not for want but rather to take a breath.

“Wow,” he whispers against your lips, his nose gently bumping yours.

His long, dark lashes kiss his cheeks as his eyes fall to your lips again.

“Definitely wow,” you repeat, sliding your hands up his arms and into his hair.

His curls brush your cheek before he dips his head, capturing your lips once more and as you drift away again you’re sure you hear Robin and Steve cheering in celebration.  

@dreamlessinparis @beefybuckrrito @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @munsonsduchess @hiddles-rose @seitmai @goldylions @justile @loki-laufeyson-1054 @whitewolfey @whippoorwillbarnes @moviequeen51​ @nerdypinupcrystal​

[lady-ashfade]

Can I request a fluffy Wednesday Addams x Reader one-shot? It can be angst with a fluffy ending or just complete fluff, and you can decide the scenario and reader's gender (I'd prefer it to be a gender-neutral reader, but you can pick whichever you want). :)

Yes you may my darling 💗🌸💕

Red lipstick.

Wednesday Addams x reader.

Plot: After missing your girlfriend you pulled her aside, and while doing so you left behind something that will soon cause you trouble.

Notes: The reader is called no gender pronouns or specifics, but the red does wear red lipstick. But everything can wear it. (please tell me if I messed up somewhere, I’m so used to writing for she/her pronouns)

This is really short.

Warnings: Kissing, a little dark themes but just because it’s Wednesday. Also probably spelling mistakes.

You loved your girlfriend, you would do anything she asked of you because in your eyes she was your own goddess. If she asked you, you would carve your heart and had it to her with a smile on your face, it belonged to her anyway. She was seen as morbid and sinister, a threat to anyone in her presence and to you…She was all of those things but you didn’t see it as a bad thing, but you loved it. Her dark ways and views on the world always made your head turn and think about what it’s like in her drain, she was fascinating.

But this week she hasn’t been able to be with you as much as you liked and you knew sometime she liked personal space but she was overworking herself. Maybe she liked the feeling of stress and her brain fogged with everything at once and the overwhelming feeling it put on her body. But it wasn’t healthy and you missed your girlfriend, so much.

Wednesday walked through the hallway with her thoughts keeping her focused on everything that has been happening. Which to your luck gave you a perfect opportunity to emerge from the dark class room and pull her in, closing the door behind you both. You gasped a bit when your body was shoved to the wall and her arm crushing your throat but you weren’t scared.

Her eyes realized you and her hard expression let up a bit but she still looked annoyed. “I could have kill you.” Her words spit like venom. You smiled as she let you breathe and speak. “By your hands it would be a honorable death.” You said the words to make her heart flatter, you saw her mouth curve up slightly and her eyes light up. “What’s this about?” She let her arm fall.

“Just wanted to see you and be alone.” Hands reached up to touch her cheek and she allowed the soft action. “You saw me this morning.” She stated. Maybe she was making fun of you for missing her that much but you know she didn’t mean anything by it. “That was too long ago,” you moved forward, “And I didn’t get to do this.”

Your lips met hers in a rushing manner and she immediately let out a breath and kissed you back. Her hands reached the back of you neck and rub the skin with her thumb while getting closer to you. She hated to admit but she has been missing you more and more, this case and whole monster business has kept her from you.

“My dark raven, how I love you so.” You chuckled and pulled back to kiss her cheek, which she wasn’t even realizing what you had done. “I’d die for you.” Her words were true and real but she would, it’s also her way of saying I love you back. “Hmm, I think we should get going. I’ll be at your dorm tonight.” You kissed her neck softly as a goodbye and ran off, she watched and her smile finally should.

But that was shortly lived when she walked to class that she shared with Enid and Xavier. Everyone in class stared at her which wasn’t unusual but this time it was something more, it was giving her a weird feeling and not the good kind. She sat down in between the two friends and they both just looked mortified. Xavier was smirking and amused and enid looked shocked but a little excited. “You seem to have had a good time.” The boy joked and Wednesday looked at him curiously.

“What are you on about now?” This only made him chuckle and face away from her. But enid was at her rescue, “Have a look.” She pulled out a small mirror and handed it to Wednesday and the girl took at look at herself. The pit in her stomach was turning and she almost felt embarrassed but over all she was annoyed and mad.

“I’m going to kill them.”

A red kiss mark was on her cheek, one on the neck and some smeared on her lips. She was mad at herself to for not coming to the conclusion herself because she knew y/n had red lipstick on but it slipped her mind.

Wednesday will get her revenge.

[boyinabillion]

Chapter One

Chapter Name: There is more to Soleil Leo than what meets the eye

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Pairing: Percy Jackson x oc

Content Includes: Sad Backstory :(

AN: I am not sure about how this chapter sounds, but I would love to have feedback!! Don't be mean!!

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺ Soleil Leo

Named after the sun.. Named after the morning sun rise. For how refreshing and in awe you can be of someone day after day after day again.

Everyone at camp knows her as Sol. Sol meaning the sun and light. She is the light of camp, everywhere she goes she radiates sunshine. It’s almost as if there is a glow around her. As if Apollo himself blessed her. She has looks that could match Aphrodite (but don’t tell the goddess that, she has a thing for jealousy), all these factors and it is no wonder she is the most beloved camper at Camp Halfblood.

"SOL watch out!" Clarisse scoffs, catching her before she trips. "You're such a pain, always tripping and falling. Can't walk straight." Clarisse complains straightening herself and Soleil out. "Good thing I am always here to catch you" Clarisse winks slyly before walking away.

That whole interaction is just a simple example of the effect Soleil Leo has on the campers around her. She has this sort of energy that draws people to her. A dangerous energy in some ways, allowing people to feel comfort in her aura.. Allowing themselves to be their true unbothered selves...

Soleil remembers before camp. “Mommy I’m scared, I’m not ready for bed.” Sol cried.. “Please don’t make me go, please!” She tends to not think about those times, they are just a long-forgotten memory at this point. “Mommy where do we go when we dream? Do we all go to the same place?” Sol used to question.. “My Lion.. just know that wherever you go know that I am always right by your side.” Her mother would always tell her. The few things Sol remembers about her mother is her comforting aura and how much Sol loved her.

“Please tell me another one” Soleil was wrapped up in her mother's arms. "I am not ready to go back. Please don't make me go back. It's so scary there." She whimpered, her head falling into the crook of her mother's neck. Tears began to form in her eyes thinking about sleeping. “Okay! Okay! Soleil." Her mother was always patient with her.. something Sol admired most about her. "One more story little lion! Now it all started…”

Soleil struggled with nightmares, as every demigod does, but hers were more intense. She would have vicious and cruel nightmares, they were psychological torture. She would scream, cry, and thrash every night. For years this would happen, and forever longer they would continue. Her mother was her kryptonite when it came to her dreams. Her mother's sweet songs and her stories always managed to pause the dreams. Soleil loved her mother for this.

“Goodnight now my Little Lion! Fight bravely and come back to me in the morning. I love you.” Her mother would kiss her head before leaving her each night. Soleil knew her mother would always be there. Or at least she thought her mother would always be there... but Soleil was always reminded that nothing lasts forever.

Soleil Leo's mother was a touchy subject. Everyone knew that. Her mother could've been the most horrible person, a horrible mother. But she would still love her the same, she would forgive her in a heartbeat. She would forgive her mother if it meant having another lullaby sung if it meant the dreams would disappear again.

She will always love her mother. No matter what. No matter that she abandoned Soleil at camp. She will always hold a spot in Soleil's heart.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

"Hi." A scruffy voice greeted Soleil, as she awoke her first day of camp. "I have been chosen to give you a tour of the camp." The voice continued on. "I'm Clarisse, and you're gonna be my friend... so let's go newbie."

Arriving at camp at such a young age was strange. She was 6 when she got to camp, the youngest camper ever. The campers would take shifts looking after her and teaching her trade skills. And in turn of learning a trade, she would also get to know about the camper who was teaching her.

She knows that Clarisse is very stand-offish but she is not a villain. Clarisse was her best friend, and she can be hard-headed and mean, but she really does have a kind heart. She knows that just because Silena Beauregard is nice, it doesn't mean she deserves to be walked on. She knows so many things about the campers as people... And that is why the camp loves her.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

But, regardless of all the happiness and joy she feels at the mere mention of camp, the dreams still manage to catch up to her. It was so infuriating, that she thought she had escaped them. She thought that camp would be her safe haven, she thought that camp had some sort of blessing from her mom and she would be safe. Spared from the dreams, spared from the psychological torture each night. But the nightmares seemed to follow her everywhere.

Except now the new nightmares came with another gift. The gift of dream hopping, dream walking she called it. At first, it scared Soleil.. it was strange being able to see in other people’s dreams. It was like she was sitting in a dark control room with video footage of everyone in the area’s dreams on display to her. She hated it, she felt like she was invading people's privacy. She cried to Chiron to fix her. Asking the god, “WHY?” Why was she different than everyone else? Why did she have this awful gift?

She cried and pleaded for Chiron to take it away. She pleaded for Mr.D to use some magic on her and get rid of the power (he didn't find the pleads very funny and threatened to make her clean the stables again, and she is not ready for that again.) Chiron took pity on Soleil. "Young Warrior, time will aid you in your battle against your mind. The future looks bright, do not worry." Chiron would always tell her. "But Chiron please, what does that mean? How long do I have to wait?" He would never answer these questions. Instead Mr.D and Chiron because a source and place for her to vent, almost like a make-shift therapy session.

She always told them about how her dreams allow her to see into people's deep darkest secrets and desires. It's not like she could tell anyone else about these things. Imagine a child walking up to you and saying "Hi! I saw your dream last night! I know you're afraid of beetles now! Wanna be my friend?" That is not a good conversation starter. The only other person she could trust with this information was Clarisse.

Clarisse was her person. The pair just understood one another like no one else ever would. it was kind of sweet seeing the pair interact. "Clarisse I am starving, and I have to wait hours before lunch!" "SOLEIL I TOLD YOU TO EAT. God! You have to take better care of yourself, I swear. Stay right there I am going to find you something to eat." Clarisse cared for Sol and protected her always. Soleil loved Clarisse because she always pushed Sol.

Soleil struggled with self-identity. While Clarisse knew exactly who she was. Soleil admired Clarisse for that. Clarisse helped Sol embark on her journey of self-discovery, but Sol relied on Clarisse. She relied that Clarisse would always be there (which she would). She relied on the fact that she always had someone to fall back on. Soleil knows she would be lost in a world without Clarisse.

That was Soleil’s worst fear: being lost. Never finding out who she is. Never completing her journey of self-discovery.. and just being a nothing.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

an: IDK WHY I MADE IT SO SAD... but this was just her like backstory

[zweetpea]

TBRAHE chapter 7 The Husband

CW: Past child abu$e, swearing, gojo being a spoiled brat, gojo being a self centered prick

‘Why did he have to accompany her? I’m the strongest. Why didn’t she ask ME?’

“Your Majesty!” Someone knocked on the door.

“Name and Business.”

“Um… It’s- It’s Addison! The queen’s maid!”

“Oh, uh, come in I guess?” ‘Why is she here?’

“Sorry to disturb you your majesty but (Y/- uh, ahem! The queen… hasn’t put anything down yet for any of the meals.”

“Oh… um The queen will be out until tea time. For tea we’ll have Matcha and Kaiseki with our tea. Donburi for dinner, with a side of Amanatto for dessert. I’d also like to try the queen’s favorite meal for lunch.”

“As you wish Your Majesty.” Addison turned to leave.

“Why does she love you so much?”

“P-Pardon?” She asked.

“Why does the Queen love you so much? Every time the conversation shifts over to you her smile becomes so genuine! I hate it! No offense but I kinda hate you.” Gojo said brazenly. 

“Your Majesty… may I be blunt with you for a moment?”

“Sure…” He said absentmindedly, leaning back without a care in the world. Like this conversation was already boring him.

“I think the reason the queen doesn’t want anything to do with you is because you’re a spoiled brat, who humiliated her.”

“Humiliated her?”

“At your anniversary, sir.”

“But- but everyone knows that we didn’t marry for love! Why would anyone care who I brought to myparty?”

“That’s just it sir. It wasn’t just your party. It was the queens party too.”

“So she gets to practically grope you all day everyday, parade you around like a goddess, but if I wanted to have someone special to me by my side on a miserable day I’m shit out of luck? How is that fair?”

“Your Majesty, I don’t know what kind of relationship you think my lady and I have but I can assure you it’s not like that.”

…

“Your Majesty please, I’ve know the queen since I was a toddler, if anyone understands her pain it’s me. If I may be so bold as to ask why it is that you feel entitled to her love and affection?”

“I’m the king! And her husband! She’s never tried to get close to me before but now she’s in every aspect of my life! Pestering my best friend, her little boy toy in and out of Shoko’s office, and now this interrogation.”

“But sir! It’s not! I really don’t want to fight but I feel that it would be in both of your best interests if you took a step back and tried to understand how SHE felt about it.” She ran out terrified of what he could do to her for talking back to him.

Gojo Satoru is a spoiled brat. He gets whatever he wants whenever he wants. And if he can’t obtain something, then it’s unobtainable. That’s what he thought until you walked into his life.

“I’m Satoru.” He smirked at you. Before he knew it he was back in the memory of your first encounter.

“(Y/n) you stated not looking up from your book.”

“Come on sweetheart. Look at your king when he’s speaking to you.” He cupped your chin and turned you to look at him.

“You’re still just the prince. And don’t touch me!” You swatted his hand away.

“What’s your problem?!”

“I’m going to be married to an arrogant brat who thinks he owns everyone and everything. Well you can’t own me!” You glared at him.

‘Her eyes are like dangerous pools of fire.’ “Fine.” He stood up and left to go find his mom.

“Mom! Please! I don’t want to marry her! She’s mean!” He begged and whined.

“Hiroshi please be reasonable." Satoru's mother sat on an ottoman. 

"Chiaki you spoil him far too much." His father paced the room never totally looking at Satoru, though Satoru wasn't totally sure his father ever looked in his eyes. 

"My baby boy doesn't deserve to be treated like trash! My baby boy-"

"He's not a baby anymore! You coddle him far too much, I swear. Satoru, you will marry her, you two will bear a son to continue the Gojo name and you will grin and bare it. I will not have my son defy me."

"I don't want to! Mommy please."

"I'll figure something out."

"Like hell you will. You will marry that girl. I don't care if she's a girl kissing butch. We are Gojos and we will not loose our birth right."

"I'm not gonna marry that- that minx! I won't! I won't! I-" A smack sounded through the room.

"Hiroshi!" Chiaki called out as she rushed to her song who'd fallen back onto the floor. Tears stung Satoru's eyes.

"Guard escort my wife out, I want to talk to my son alone." He ordered. ah yes, when Satoru was being difficult Chiaki's son. When it came to the prince's image, or his usefulness he was Hiroshi's son. Hiroshi finally looked into Satoru's eyes and Satoru's blood turned to ice. "If you ever disobey me again, if you ever question me again, I will cut out your tongue and sow your mouth shut. Do you understand?"

"Dad?"

"Do you understand boy?"

"Y-Yes... sir."

'This is all her fault! She's ruining my life!' Satoru thought.

"Come on lady." He took your hand forcefully in his right before you entered your engagement party.

"You are infuriating, the moment I get home I'm scrubbing my skin until it turns red to wash all of you off of me."

'This little- no... just focus on getting through the night. Look at her, so smug. Too bad you don't have a book to hid behind now. You and your sharp, deep eyes. And her lips that look soft and- They're so cracked even under that lipstick! And her hair it... soft and smooth- NO! She's ruining your life, you will not be seduced by this vixen Satoru! You're a Gojo, act like it.'

"Are you two ready?" His mother asked. 

"Yes mother."

"..."

"What?"

"I'm... glad that I'll have a nice mother in law."

"She's the best mother in the world."

"..."

"I'm glad to have a father in law who respects his daughter. I'm sure he'll be very supportive of his grandchildren."

You felt your cheeks warm. "Pervert." 'She even looks cute flustered. No! No.'

The doors open to the grand ballroom as the announcer stands at the top of the stairs. “Introducing, the Prince of our great Kingdom, Satoru Gojo.”

The two start their waltz. 'She looks just like her father. Bored and snotty.'

It was four months after the wedding, and you two had only known each other for half a year. The got back toy you both one rainy afternoon, winter was particularly late that year, and the atmosphere outside matched well with the mood inside.

"Unfortunately the King and Queen were attacked by curses on their way to a peace conference. They've both passed away." The messenger had said.

Satoru froze. You came over to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the contact.

He didn't know it at the time but that interaction staved you off from trying to induce physical contact, and the dead look in his eyes for months on end when you both were together didn't help either. You wanted to give him space. Neither of you were ready to rule a country, but you'd do what you had to to support your husband and your people. Maybe Satoru took that for granted.

"But daddy I wanna ride the pony! I don't wanna study!" Another memory, this one about the time Satoru was only six. 

"Boy get inside before I drag you in here by your hair!"

"No! I- Ow! Okay stop! I'm sorry! Daddy I'm sorry! Stop I'm sorry!" Hiroshi had made good on his promise. he had torn a few stands of hair out of the poor boys head. 

"Stop being a brat. You will refer to your king as sir do you understand?"

"Daddy- AH!" He had struck Satoru. "Sorry! I'm sorry sir! I'm so sorry."

Another memory. "Wow all this for me!"

"You are turning 8, it's a big milestone!" Chiaki said.

"You say that every year dear." Hiroshi said as he sat reading the newspaper. The royal family sat in the recreational room as Satoru open the gifts his mother got him.

"Hey... I wanted the blue rabbit not the red one."

"What?" Chiaki asked confused. 

"You got me the wrong rabbit color! This one's ugly!"

"Shut it boy! I'm reading!"

"You're ruining my birthday!" Hiroshi stood up and Satoru crouched.

"It's okay Satoru. I'll have Matilda fetch you the proper rabbit you wanted. We'll have it to you by your party this afternoon. MATILDA!! Fetch my son the blue rabbit and throw out this garbage! Oh and order an investigation be made, whoever bought my son this trash will be fired." Chiaki threw the unwanted toy to the maid.

"Really?" Satoru looked at his mother with big hopeful blue eyes. 

"Of course. Anything my precious baby boy wants, he'll get." She scooped him up and cuddled him.

"Yay! Thank you Mommy! you're my favorite parent!"

"Tch. Darn brat."

“Mom. I miss you.”

Before Satoru new it he was back in the present.

“How she felt about the anniversary huh? I guess she probably felt like how I feel about that knight following her around and drooling all over her.”

“Alright Satoru. You need to get out of bed! You’re people need you! They need to see that you’re okay, physically at least. Besides laying around in a dirty room all day isn’t good for you mentally or physically.” And just like that he was pulled right back into his mind. Every conversation he had with you you were the one who took the lead, leaving him flustered and scrambling to catch up.

~~~~

“Ruru! I’m so glad that you’re here! Cmon let’s go shopping!”

“I’m tired, Marissa.”

“But Ruru! You’ve been away for a month! We need to spend time together!”

Marissa was also headstrong, but now he knows she doesn’t actually care about him.

~~~~ 

You cared about those closest to you. He thought Marissa cared about him.

You stood strong against him. She fell right into his arms.

You hated him. Did she hate him too? Probably, he figured.

He… wanted you. The more he compares your interactions, the more he sees he wanted you. But he wanted a you that wanted him.

“I’m an idiot.” He slapped his forehead. He ran his hand down his face. He stood up and walked out of his office needing a breath of fresh air.

He wandered down to the thrown room and froze in front of a painting hung up. It was of you and him on your wedding day.

“I will fix this. I promise.” He said as he swiped his hand over your face.

[artist-issues]

Hi, I wanted to say first off I love your analysis on films and storytelling! Second, I'm curious on what your thoughts are on the movie Moana?

Thank you!

I like Moana. I think it’s a really fun movie and it’s enjoyable to watch over and over again. The main character wants something relatable, she’s flawed, and she’s believable. The visuals are probably what keep people coming back, because Disney flexed so hard with animating the water and the sand and the glowing monsters.

I will say, there are some pacing moments I think aren’t great, some filler stuff in the movie that I don’t think add anything to it. Like, for example, Pua. Pua doesn’t add anything to the movie. You could take him out and lose nothing. Also, the entire scene with the Kakamora.

They are appealing and the giant-boat thing is interesting, but that whole sequence doesn’t really tell us anything about the characters or the world or the story that we don’t already know. It’s just an action sequence. In it, you learn: Moana is capable and committed to keeping the Heart safe, Maui is capable but a show-off, and there are monsters that are drawn to the heart. You already knew all that stuff without that scene. See what I mean?

But that doesn’t mean the movie is bad. It’s just not airtight, and that’s okay, because it still gets it’s point across.

I think the Main Idea of the movie is: “Who you truly are is a combination of where you’ve been and where you choose to go next.” Something like that.

Moana has to pick who she’s going to be and what she’s going to do from the first moment we see her.

She’s already a character “born with” some traits that the other characters don’t have: she likes to explore and she’s not as afraid of the ocean and it’s dangers as everyone else. You could say she “inherits” those traits from “where she’s been;” her tribe and their Voyager Heritage.

So while Moana is figuring out how “where she comes from/where she’s been” applies to “who she’ll choose to be now,” you have other characters doing the same. Her grandmother is an example of “getting to make that choice regardless of what your community is doing; you don’t have to be a product of your environment.” Meanwhile, her mom is just a “product of her environment.” And her dad had the same fearlessness Moana has, once, but after something bad happened in his past (where he’s been) he lets that bad thing inform who he chooses to be for the rest of his life: the chief that won’t take chances.

Then meanwhile, Maui is letting his origins define who he chooses to be. He has to be a hero, and earn everybody’s love, because he came into the world Unloved. Ironically, the gods and the ocean helped him. But their love isn’t enough for him.

See, just like Moana’s dad, Maui has a choice. He can look at the parts of his past that are good, (the ocean chose me/I’m descended from voyagers) and choose to move forward based on that, OR, he can look at the parts of his past that are bad (my own parents thought I was worthless/being a voyager killed my best friend) and choose to move forward based on that. And how you move forward, combined with where you’ve been, is what the movie says your “identity” is.

I mean, think about Tamatoa, obviously. His song describes how he didn’t always used to be a living-legend monster. But now he finds his identity in the literal treasure he piles on top of himself, like trophies of conquest. Then think about Te Fiti. She’s stolen from, and misused, and lets that fact of her history turn her into a monster. A monster who can’t be calmed down enough to be transformed until Moana reminds her of “who she is.”

And by the end of it, Moana ultimately decides who she’s going to be, based on the things that are true about her. Is she a powerful goddess or demigod, like Maui? No. Is she a good-enough navigator to get past Te Ka on her own? No. Is she bulletproof because the Ocean chose her? No. Does she want to be chief of her island and stay there forever? No. All of those things are true. But, what’s also true is that she wants to do something to help save the world, she does love her island at the same time as she loves the sea, and she’s willing and able to keep trying even after she fails. So she’s going to act on those things that are also true.

Same thing with Maui. He’s made mistakes and he’s ruined things, including his own reputation, and he’s finding his identity in his powers, which get jeopardized. But by willingly sacrificing those things, he re-defines what his identity is. “Maui” is not a hero who has the power to do anything for mortals, and deserves their adoration. “Maui” is a good guy who’s going to keep trying to be self-sacrificial even after he makes mistakes.

There’s other elements in it too, that I think deserve analysis. I mean, the movie is saying you have inherent worth. You have an identity, objectively, regardless of what you choose for yourself. Hei Hei is funny but he’s a prime example of what the movie is saying about that. He’s a stupid rooster who seems completely useless, but by the end he shows that he was worth taking along.

Also, when Moana calms Te Ka, she does say “who you truly are.” And all the problems with her village stem from the fact that they don’t know, or have repressed, a part of their history and cultural identity. Her dad is ignoring something that is true about himself: he has Voyager in his nature. So the idea in the movie is that you can choose the right identity, one that lines up with “who you truly are, whether you like it or not,” or you can choose the wrong identity. What puzzles me is how “the gods” and “the ocean” fit into all of that.

I don’t love that Moana insists that the gods “don’t make you Maui. You do.” Truth of the matter is, Maui would be dead if not for the gods—never mind his powers. So in one sense, he would not have anything he has without them, including his life. Additionally, Moana would not be Moana without the ocean. She wouldn’t have the Heart of Te Fiti. She wouldn’t have found Maui in the first place, because she sucked at navigating. She wouldn’t have made it to Te Fiti if not for supernatural help. So what Moana should have said, to be accurate, is, “The gods made you Maui, and you can choose to agree with them or live a lie.”

Of course, the movie doesn’t set Moana herself up like that. She’s not dependent on the gods or the ocean for her very existence, like Maui was. But you see what I’m saying. There’s this tension between what you can choose, and who gets to decide what’s right to choose. Tamatoa probably wasn’t right to choose to be a grandma-eating, mortal-killing monster, but that’s what he chose to identify as. Te Fiti definitely wasn’t right to choose to try and melt everyone who came near her; she’s supposed to be a goddess of life, not death. That’s her “right” identity.

But Moana? Of course the most satisfying choice for her was “be the hero and keep on trying.” But the movie does set up the grandmother’s ghost, there to lead her home in case she wants to give up. And it sets that up as if it would be an okay-thing to do. Not necessarily the wrong thing—even though, if she had chosen to give up and go home, she would essentially be exactly like her father. So why is it hinted that the Chief was wrong to want to burn the voyager boats, hide from the rest of the world, and act on fear…but if Moana wants to give up, that’s okay? Because she tried? The Chief tried to be brave and be like Moana, too, and someone died because of it.

So I think some of that portion of the narrative is sloppily handled. It’s not smart to have both ideas in your movie: “You are meant for something” AND “you can choose who you want to be, and whatever you choose is what you’re meant for.” If not for Moana herself, that last part, in bold, wouldn’t be in there presenting a problem. But that scene where the Grandmother is willing to let her choose the wrong identity, yet it’s not portrayed as the “wrong” identity, messes it up.

The idea presented by all the other characters (Maui, Grandma, Te Fiti) is, “you have an identity and worth that is assigned to you by something bigger than yourself. You can either agree with it, or suppress it, live a lie, and try to find identity/worth in something else.” But Moana’s grandmother, gently allowing her to give up and acting like that’s okay, sort of ruins it.

But I’ll dive into that more another day, if you’re interested.

[darlingsfandom]

Her First Real Kiss .

Fluff! A little bit of an illusion to smut…

Emma Skillpa x Female Reader!

The house smelled of clean cotton and warm apple pie as you walked down the hallway to find Emma sitting on the couch, laundry basket on the floor by her feet and window wide open as she folded the clean clothes. The sun glowed on her making her light up as the goddess she is. You smiled to yourself watching her so peacefully. She carefully folded a pair of your panties and set it in your pile before you walked over to the arm of the couch , gently leaned against it and smiled.

Emma turned to lightly and jumped when she seen you there. You gave her a pity smile. She brushed her hands over her dress quickly before getting back to folding.

“Emma?” You asked sitting down next to her. “I know you’re my friend and I tell you everyday how much I appreciate that you’re letting me stay here until everything’s finalized with the new house, but …” you chewed your bottom lip for a second before taking a breath when she looked at you with soft eyes .

“Yes?” She spoke up still folding a shirt.

“I’m just going to be sad when everything’s done and not being able to see you everyday.” Your lips turned into a frown making her lips do the same. “And I’d be really sad if I didn’t get to do something with you that I’ve wanted for a long time.”

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Emma tilted her head to the side. You placed your hand over hers as you moved closer to her until your knee was touching hers.

“Emma Skillpa…. Have you ever been kissed?”

Emma quickly swallowed the lump in her throat as she tried to look everywhere but at you but the fact her cheeks were flushed made you giggle.

“What kind of question is that?!? Of course I’ve been kissed! I mean John and I …”

“No emma , have you really been kissed by someone who actually cares about you?” You squeezed her knee making her lock eyes with you. She bit her bottom lip. “Let me show you what a real kiss is.”

Your fingers traced over her cheek gently before pushing some of her curls out of the way. Her face was perfectly cradled into your hand. You admired how soft and innocent she looked looking at you with those damn doe eyes. You leaned in closer until the two of you were nose to nose.

“I’ll be gentle.” You whispered against her lips while keeping eye contact. Emma had calmed down since you had the question. Her lips parted slightly until you gently pressed your lips against hers. She sat still for a split second. Her hand reached up to grab yours and pulled it off her face which made you pull away from her lush lips.

“No…” She whispered. “Come back.” It sounded more like a plea than a demand. How could you say no to her? You had eyes on Emma when you moved into the neighborhood a year ago. She was putting her laundry on the line when you met. Since then you found a way to be near her despite what people in the town said about her. And now that you had some remodeling going on you had been staying at the Skillpas.

“How can I deny you?” You repeated while moving closer to her. Your mouth was on hers again. Emma held your hand tightly in hers as the two of you sat on the couch sharing a passionate kiss. Her lips parted slowly which allowed a tiny moan to escape. You pulled away and looked into her eyes.

“Emma Skillpa, did you just moan for me pretty girl?” You blushed at your own words because never in a million years did you think you’d be able to kiss her let alone make her moan! She sounded so innocent.

“I… I’ve never kissed a girl and it felt nice.” She pouted at you. Her cheeks were bright red, eyes were full of passion and innocence and her hand squeezed yours again.

“If you let me, I’ll show you what it’s like to be touched by another girl. Who better to show you than your best friend!” You tucked her hair behind her ear making her shrink a little. Emma stood up slowly and looked down at you before she walked over, shut the curtains and walked away for a second only to come back quickly.

“Couldn’t let my pie burn. That would make everyone upset.” She spoke timidly. You stood up and cupped her face before planting a kiss on her lips taking her by surprise. Emma’s arms wrapped around you gently and stayed there as you moved your lips against hers. It was sweet , passionate and romantic. Neither of you wanted it to end.

“I want you to show me.” She spoke breathlessly as the two of stood in the middle of her living room holding each other listening to the sounds coming from the open window behind the closed curtains. The sun was peeking through lighting up the room. This felt right to be holding her like this, kissing her ! Emma pressed her forehead against yours while running her thumb up and down your spine as you gave her another loving kiss that would eventually turn into something much more desireful .

[calliecwrites]

Mistaken Divinity

Being mistaken for a goddess is awkward. Especially when you can do – and have been seen doing – what they believe their goddess can.

How do you prove you can’t do something, anyway? If I say I can’t, if I show I can’t, they’d say I’m pretending – and they’d be right. Once the idea’s in their heads, it sticks.

No, I wasn’t answering your prayers. Yes, I modified all your tribes’ bodies so they’re immune to the pollution that’s been poisoning you. Yes, that 10x’d your lifespan. This is your natural lifespan when you’re not being poisoned. I found you by accident and saw you were suffering, what else was I going to do? I didn’t even know you existed!

And, uh, yes, I was messing with the weather and playing with volcanoes. Doesn’t everyone?

You know I can’t actually hear your prayers. I mean, technically I can read your minds, but it’s something I’d have to actively do, and I’d have to stay in the village to be in range, but… You don’t actually want me snooping on everything you think all the time, do you? Uh, maybe don’t answer that.

I don’t think your goddess exists. Or if she does, she isn’t here. I would know.

If you try worshipping me, I will be very angry.

—Of course, I could just edit their minds and make them stop believing. I could make them forget I ever existed. But that wouldn’t be helping my case, would it? That’s exactly the sort of thing a goddess would do.

Why do you find it so hard to believe there are people more powerful than you, that don’t want you fawning over them, that don’t want to meddle in every aspect of your lives? Oh, there are plenty that do. I’m not one of them. I helped you for free. I don’t want anything in return.

Be your own people! Live your own lives!

No I will absolutely not allow human sacrifice.

—In the end, I left. Ran away, more like. And – they’re doing fine. No temples, no rituals, just one little statue that doesn’t look entirely unlike the form I was in that day. Still, I check up on them sometimes, without them knowing. Just in case there is a meddling goddess lurking somewhere.

If there is, she’ll find I’m no friend of hers.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added):

@leahnardo-da-veggie @sandyca5tle

[salternateunreality2]

*dances up to You like the little cave dwelling critter I am*

So my mums been sick this week, and all week our cat has been sitting with her to make her feel better.

I have no idea if this is normal car behaviour. But I’m curious: how does Sephikittie react to his friends being sick? Does he sit with them? Or does he hiss when they sneeze?

Hope you’re well!❤️

Awww, that is so sweet! I hope she feels better soon with the magic of kitty cuddles. ❤️🐱❤️

Thank you! ❤️

*cave-salt noises as I drag Genesis under the bus, mwahaha*

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

Canon!

In canon we see him reacting to Genesis and Angeal degrading. At the first injury, he kinda just stands around because Gen said he was fine, so he's fine, right?

He turns away at first with his sword as Gen walks by, which I think is entirely so we can get an over-the-shoulder camera angle, but could also be interpreted as an animal avoiding eye contact as a sign of respect and wanting to de-escalate.

I'm not as familiar with cat body language, but dogs will do stuff like sneeze and turn their shoulders/flanks to you to show they're not a threat. Cutieroth.

Then Genesis gets sick, and he trots silently up to Hollander, seconding Angeal's concern and offering his blood. He looks so sad when he's rejected.

Then he spends the rest of CC following Genesis and Angeal, then standing around awkwardly once he gets close.

90% of SephGen interactions post-training-room-fight:

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

Fanon conclusions!

He's the kind of friend that shows up and doesn't know what to do.

Genesis is languishing in bed from a minor man-flu, bemoaning his fate, and Sephiroth's there like, "Um, do you want some juice?"

Genesis, coughing pitifully: "No, only the goddess can help me now; I have consumed her nectar repeatedly and found no relief; it is for naught until she looks on me with mercy and grants eternal rest."

Angeal, from the kitchen: "He means he had juice a half hour ago, he's fine."

Sephiroth: "oh...ok...." *Stands around*

He can't lurk constantly, because he has duties, but I think he would if he could. Nothing really phases him germ-wise due to his crazy levels of mako and Jenova, so he's not too concerned with contamination.

I think with enough time and experience (and tips from Angeal), he'd catch on to Genesis' dramatic ways, and instead of just standing around, bring some paperwork to do in the living room while Gen whines in his bedroom.

When Angeal gets sick, or Genesis gets really sick, I HC that they'd come into work and pretend everything is fine, but Seph would smell that something's off and perform his hovering routine until they collapse, at which point he'd catch them and waffle about what to do until Lazard pops his head in and goes, "wtf, take him to medical!" (grumbling) "Fucking SOLDIERS, always trying to play the hero, they're going to get the whole floor sick." (He's right)

Seph's not dumb, he just doesn't like medical because it's like the labs, and he's thinking maybe they'd be more comfortable at home, but he doesn't know what that's like or how bad the illness is and it's kind of nice to be able to hug his friends for once but they passed out and...

[witchersmistress]

Tails you win

Hello my darlings!! wanted to do something or someone new for you in this case. Captian Syverson.

Warning: Blood, violence, death and gun shot wounds.

Word count: 7.5k

my usual warning, you do not have my permission to copy or use my work in anyway, if you do ill haunt you for the rest of your days!!

Propbably gramatical errors and typos but i type to fast for my own good lol

Name pronounciatuion for the FMC : her given name is Saorise, Sheer-sha, in Irish-Gaelic means freedom

Her nickname, gifted to her at a young age by Syverson: Louhi, Lo-hee, Finnish origin, she is the goddess of Death and Disease.

Saoirse's POV

I’m wearing the dress Svyerson picked out for me. It hugs my body in all the right places and makes me feel beautiful and deadly. I feel like one of those knockout nineteen fifties actresses like Ava Gardner or Grace Kelly, ready to take on the world. Who knew that an item of clothing could make you feel so powerful? I smile at the memory of Svyerson sliding up the zipper of my dress, recalling the hunger in his eyes and the way his fingers lingered on my skin as he stared at my reflection in the mirror just like I’m doing now. Thinking about him makes me wonder if it’s possible to miss someone who is still a part of your life?

Because I do. I miss the man who could relax enough to kiss me. Who could cup my cheeks in his huge palms, fuck my mouth with his tongue and make me wonder what having sex with him would be like. Since we kissed, he’s gone back to being less handsy and more gruff. Over the past couple days that we’ve been in each other’s orbit, it’s been tense, to say the least. I’m not sure if it’s all that pent-up sexual tension or the fact that Carter has asked Svyerson to fight again tonight, this time with a man called Derby, brought in by the King no less.

 I’ve never heard of him before, not on the fight scene and not as a name to be familiar with in the criminal underworld. Still, that doesn’t mean anything. Just because I’ve never heard of him doesn’t mean he isn’t a threat. It’s more likely that he is one tonight because Svyerson will be going in cold to the cage with nothing to go on. Not that I’m afraid for him. On the contrary, Svyerson is the best fighter out there. Hands down. He’ll win. He always does. He won me, didn't he? I grin at that, my bright cherry-red lips complimenting my smoky grey eyes. I’ve purposefully gone for the glam but sexy look. Instead of wearing my hair down like I usually do, with the help of Nadia, I’ve got it pinned up in a low bun that sits at the nape of my neck with tendrils of my dark hair hanging  loose at my temples,

adding a softness to my features. In all honesty, I feel like a knockout, and I’m more than ready to floor Svyerson. Satisfied with my reflection, I slid my feet into my favorite Louboutin heels, the same ones I wore that night I met the King. Who, despite my reservations, is attending tonight. Just like all of Carter’s business associates and acquaintances are. It stings a little that this night isn’t about me, or my eighteenth birthday, but about my dad and his business… Our business? I’m still not certain whether he wants me as his partner anymore. He’s barely spoken to me these past few weeks, and has certainly avoided even being in a room with me. Which is why I have to prove myself tonight. I will be the perfect Davidson. Strong, beautiful, and not to be fucked with. Whatever goes down tonight I will take it all in my stride, because like I said to Hudson, it’s not a Davidson party without a little—a lot—of bloodshed.

“Who the fuck is that?” Hudson, my best friend, asks as a man not dissimilar in size to Svyerson steps into the cage. Around us the chatter quietens as everyone focuses on the new guy who is as bulky as Svyerson but maybe a couple inches shorter. He’s so pale, he’s almost translucent, except for his face where he has a skull tattooed into his skin. If he’s going for the intimidation look, it looks good on him. Svyerson isn’t easily scared. I’ve never seen him look even remotely concerned in the cage, but there’s an edge of apprehension in the way he carries himself, and that in and of itself is cause for concern. “Is that who I think it is?” Tony, a small-time gangster who I’ve been talking to for the past ten minutes, mutters under his breath. He’s actually one of the few men I recognise here tonight. There are a lot of new faces, most of them brought in by the King according to my father, including Svyerson’s opponent. “His name’s Derby, right?” I ask, repeating the only thing I know about the new fighter and hoping Tony can fill in more details. “Yeah, it is. He’s to the King what Svyerson is to Carter,” Tony explains, the excitement in his eyes sparking concern in mine. “He’s an enforcer?” “Yeah, he worked for the King once upon a time. Rumor has it Derby banged his ex-missus and that’s why they’re getting a divorce.”

“And he’s still alive?” I ask. The King doesn’t strike me as a man who’d let anyone get away with sleeping with his wife. “Looks that way. All I know is that this fella is fucking hardcore. I heard he once ripped a man’s throat out with his bare hands.” “Fucking hell,” Hudson mutters. 

A nervous laugh bubbles out of my throat and I make a kind of choking noise trying to cover it up. “He ripped out someone’s throat, with his hands?” I repeat, hoping my voice doesn’t give away the panic expanding in my chest. “Put it this way, Svyerson might be undefeated in this cage, but Derby…” Tony smirks, “He’s the Grim fucking Reaper. Know what I’m saying?” Hudson shifts on his feet. “Fuuuuuck!” “I’m not worried. Svyerson’s got this,” I say firmly.

 “You might want to tell that to him,” Tony adds, pointing to the cage as Svyerson steps into the spotlight. “He does look worried,” Hudson comments, earning him an elbow-dig to his rib. “It’s his game face, he’s not worried,” I retorted, even though the look on his face tells me that he very much is. 

Shit.

 Circling each other, Svyerson and Derby face off. Where Svyerson is tense, Derby is relaxed in a way that doesn’t speak of arrogance, but confidence. He thinks he’s going to win. Svyerson might have the edge in height and build, but there’s no denying the fact that he doesn’t seem to intimidate this guy in the slightest. “Do they know each other?” Hudson whispers. “There’s a lot of eyeballing going on.” “Appears that way,” I reply, and when Derby drops his chin and gives Svyerson the briefest of smiles, revealing a set of gold teeth, a thread of anxiety bubbles up in my stomach. Everything feels off.

 “Ladies and gentlemen,” Carter says, interrupting my thoughts and drawing my attention to him as he steps into the cage. “Or should I say Louhi and gentleman…” He laughs at his own joke as a spotlight appears over my head, highlighting me to the room and the fact I’m the only female within it. “Oh shit, he’s not going to sing you happy birthday, is he?” Hudson mutters, raising a laugh from Tony and some of the other arseholes nearby. “Fuck,” I mutter, keeping my lips in a tight smile. “Come on up, Louhi,” Carter says, motioning me over. I want to say no, but this is Carter and no really isn’t a word he takes kindly to. Instead, with the smile plastered on my face, I head towards the cage.

 All eyes are on me, and as I stride across the room, I can see King and Rodriguez step out of Carter’s office. Rodriguez is smirking and King is watching me closely. My gut flips over. The moment I step inside the cage Carter jerks his chin, fishing in his pocket for something. A moment later he pulls out a coin and gives me a beaming smile that’s so fake, I almost wish I’d worn shades. “Carter?” I question softly, turning my gaze to Svyerson who briefly meets my eyes with an empty gaze. 

There’s not even a flicker of acknowledgement. My gut twists. I know he has to keep up pretences but fuck, that hurt. “Tonight you’re all here to help celebrate my daughter’s birthday,” Carter continues, addressing the crowd and doing nothing to temper my growing unease. “Tomorrow, Louhi will be turning eighteen, and as such I’ve arranged for Svyerson and Derby to go head-to-head, all for your viewing pleasure.” The room erupts into cheers and whistles, only quieting when Carter raises his hands. “But for tonight only we’re going to change the rules of the cage.” I glance at Svyerson with a question on my face, because we all know the only rules that apply in the cage are that there are no rules. The last man standing is the winner, that’s it.

“What?” I ask, but my question is lost amongst more cheers and whistles from the crowd. Why do I get the feeling they already know what Carter is talking about? Pinching the coin between his finger and thumb, Carter says. “In a moment I’m going to ask Louhi to toss this coin.” “Carter?” I repeat, quieter this time. He throws the coin to me and I catch it, frowning at the weight and the warmth. It’s one of those old sovereign coins that are no longer in circulation but are often mounted in jewelry as a nod to the old days. I wonder where he got it from. “Tonight Svyerson is up against Derby, a worthy opponent,” Carter continues, dragging my attention back to him as he strides around the edge of the cage.

 He looks pumped. No, he looks wired, there’s a jittery kind of energy pouring off him. It’s not fear, but excitement, and I’m not a hundred percent sure it’s the natural kind. His pupils are blown wide and he’s sweating. “As usual anything goes. The only difference is that tonight we allow weapons.” “What?” I exclaim, my Irish accent slipping through,  my eyes widening. Again I find myself looking at Svyerson and this time he shakes his head minutely, warning me not to protest. Swallowing hard, I bite back my concern and say nothing. Carter raises his brows, looking between us both as he notices the silent exchange.

“Louhi will throw the coin. If it lands on tails, Svyerson will get to choose his weapon of choice first. If it falls on heads, Derby will.” He motions over his shoulder to someone in the crowd. “Bring me the weapons.” Rodriguez steps into the cage, wearing his usual shit-eating grin. I grit my teeth, hating the way he smirks at me like he’s in on the joke and I’m the fucking punchline. Maybe I am. Standing between Svyerson and Derby, Rodriguez waits for further instruction. 

On the large silver tray are several weapons. Notably, a twelve inch butcher’s knife with a slightly curved blade, a pair of knuckle dusters with clawed tips, nunchucks, a crowbar and finally, a baseball bat. Jesus Christ. This is madness. I stride over to my dad, pressing my hand against his arm. “Carter, what are you doing?” I hissed. “Why? What’s it matter to you?” he replies, eyebrows arched. “Toss the coin, Louhi,” Svyerson orders, his heavy Texan accent  cutting in. The sheer fact he calls me Louhi and not Darlin or Saoirse has me feeling all kinds of ways, and the look he gives me makes my stomach flip and my spine tingle with fear.

 Rodriguez, the prick, laughs, adding to the already building tension. What the fuck does he find so damn funny? “Yes, toss the coin, Louhi,” Carter adds smoothly, turning his back on us all and moving to stand at the edge of the cage as he addresses the crowd. “Tonight the winner is the last man standing. This is a fight to the death.” “No!” I shout, unable to stop the word spilling from my lips, but it’s just background noise, lost as the crowd goes wild. Like a pack of baying wolves they’re out for blood. This is a fight to the death. To. The. Death.

 “NO!” I repeat, striding over to Carter, anger firing in my blood and my heart beating out of control. I grab his arm, unconcerned now at how this looks to the crowd, to him. “What the hell are you doing?!” Whilst the crowd goes fucking crazy, Carter grips my elbow and forcibly pulls me towards the centre of the ring where Rodriguez stands with the weapons and Svyerson and Derby eyeing each other up. “I’m doing this for you!” he hisses. “What do you mean, for me?” I reply, glancing at the Svyerson who shakes his head subtly.

Carter ignores me and Svyerson looks away, leaving me in total confusion as Carter once again raises his hands to quieten the crowd. “Louhi is about to toss the coin. Let’s see who gets to choose first.” “Do it,” Svyerson insists, softer this time as he meets my gaze. A thousand words and a whole host of emotions pass across his features. “It’s okay. I’ve got this.” This time Derby laughs. He steps close to me and I freeze, not because I’m afraid that he might touch me, but because if he does Svyerson will lose his shit and show everyone how he truly feels and he’ll wind up dead anyway. “Toss the coin, sweetheart, let the fun begin.” Derby purrs, making my  skin crawl,  I toss the coin. The crowd falls silent as the gold sovereign flips in the air. I watch it in slow motion as gravity pulls it down, my stomach dropping out at the same pace until eventually I catch it, covering the coin up with my hand.

 “Call it,” Carter demands as my racing pulse fills my ears with white noise. Slowly I lift my hand, my eyes dropping to the coin nestled in my palm. “Tails!” I announce loudly, a rush of relief that’s quickly overridden by a powerful dose of fear, because it doesn’t really matter if Svyerson gets to choose his weapon first, he could die anyway.

“Tales you win, heads you lose,” Svyerson shouts as he steps towards the tray of weapons, picking up the butcher’s knife and gripping the handle tightly. He taps the tray twice with the blade, pointing it at Derby. “And the fighters of this club never lose!” Then he turns to me and places his left hand over his chest, right where my handprint is tattooed into his skin. My stomach flips with apprehension and dread, but also love. I love him so much it hurts. “Svyerson—” I begin but around us the crowd go apeshit, and my words are drowned out by their hollering. “I know,” he mouths. “I know.” And whilst the crowd might not be aware of the unspoken words between us, my father certainly notices. The look he gives is deadly. He knows. When the crowd settles, Carter steps forward and withdraws his gun from the holster at his hip, placing it on the tray. “Let’s up the motherfucking anti, shall we?” he rasps out in a laugh that has all the blood draining from my face. “Dad?” I question, shaking my head in disbelief. “That’s not fair.” “My club, my rules!” he snaps, jerking his chin at Derby. “Choose.”

Derby smirks, or at least I think he does because I can’t really tell beneath his skull tattoo. He glances at the gun and I wait for him to grab it. Only he doesn’t. He picks up the crowbar instead. Rodriguez looks as shocked as Carter, but the crowd doesn’t care, they want a fight not an execution, and that’s what they’re going to get. With a tight jaw and even tighter voice, Carter addresses the crowd one last time. “May the best man win!” he yells, then grabs my arm and pulls me from the cage and marches me towards his office, shoving me inside before I can even blink, let alone watch the fight unfold.

 The moment the door slams shut behind us and Rodriguez—who has followed us both into the office like a bad fucking smell—the crowd goes insane. “What the fuck, Carter?!” I round on him, trying and failing to disguise my fear as my gaze flicks to the window in his office and the fight unfolds in the cage. Derby wastes no time and lunges for Svyerson, who ducks, the crowbar missing the top of his head by mere inches. Fuck! “What’s the problem, Louhi, afraid of a little bloodshed?”

“What’s my problem? Are you insane?! Svyerson could die!”

 I shout, snapping my head back around.

“You don’t think he’ll win?” My father questions, canting a look at Rodriguez who places the tray on the desk and smirks in that infuriating way of his.

 “What the fuck do you find so amusing?” I snarl ready to punch his fucking lights out. He holds his hands up.

 “Absolutely nothing. No disrespect meant,” he replies, completely insincere, the smarmy bastard.

 “Get the fuck out!” I snap, reaching for my father’s gun and pointing it at him. The feel of the cool metal in my hand is comforting. “Don’t be hasty,” he stutters, his fucking smile dropping as he looks to Carter. “You heard Louhi. Get the fuck out.” Rodriguez spins on his heels, not needing to be told twice. When he opens the door, I catch a glimpse of Svyerson receiving a blow to his upper arm, the tip of the crowbar scraping across his bicep. Blood bursts from the wound and I swear I can hear Svyerson’s grunt of pain over the roar of the crowd. “Svyerson!” I yell, my desperate call lost behind the door slamming shut. “It’s true then?” Carter questions. 

“What’s true?” I questioned

 “That you and Svyerson have been fucking.”

“What? No!” I exclaim, my fingers curling around the handle of the gun even as my arm hangs loosely at my side. “He’s a friend.” “Like Hudson is?” Carter asks, looking over my shoulder. I turn to figure out what he’s looking at and see that Hudson’s on the other side of the window, being prevented entrance by Rodriguez who’s apparently guarding the fucking door now. I whip my head around and glare at Carter. “What is this?” I have a question. “Hudson is a friend. Svyerson is a friend. That’s it, that’s all.”

 Carter shakes his head, stepping towards me. “You’re a liar!” “We haven’t been fucking, Carter!” I counter, my voice rising in distress. It’s not a lie, we haven’t, but not from lack of trying on my part. He laughs, and it comes out cold and distant. “Hudson is your friend. I believe that. It’s one of the reasons why he’s not fucking dead already.” “What?” I whisper, dread creeping over my skin as his gaze darkens with malice. “You’re my daughter, Louhi. You forget that I know you.” “Carter… Dad,” I pleaded. “You’ve got to believe me, we’re not together. Put an end to this madness. Now!”

Gripping my arm, he twists me on my feet and pushes me towards the window, pulling up the blind so that I can see the fight more clearly. Hudson sees the movement and shouts at me through the glass. “You alright?” I nod, warning him with my eyes to back off before he gets himself hurt, but it’s Rodriguez who forcibly manhandles him out of the way. Hudson puts up a fight, throwing a punch that hits Rodriguez on the chin and forces him back against the door with a loud crash. “Maybe Hudson has more than just smarts,” Carter says, a note of respect in his voice as Rodriguez retaliates and the pair get into a brawl. “Wonder whether he’d be up to fight in the cage?” “Absolutely not!” I exclaim, moving towards the door so I can break up the fight then put a stop to the one in the cage. 

Carter laughs, snatching my arm and yanking me back against his chest. “Yeah you’re right, I can’t have that pretty head of his losing any brain cells. I think he’ll come in handy down the line.” “Useful how? What are you—?” My question is cut short when Mark appears from the crowd and strides over to the pair, forcibly pulling Hudson off Rodriguez. Hudson’s face is pitted with rage and he spits out a glob of blood before casting his gaze to me. I shake my head, warning him not to continue, but it’s only when Mark drops his mouth to Hudson’s ear that he finally backs off.

 That and the fact Mark has a gun pressed against his side. With one last look at me, Hudson grits his jaw and follows Mark to the other side of the room, disappearing from view. “Carter! What the hell is Mark doing?” I ask, panic crawling beneath my skin. “Don’t worry, Mark won’t shoot him. Like I said, he’s going to come in useful in the future. Mark will escort him home. Make sure he gets back safe and sound,” Carter says, but that doesn’t reassure me in the slightest. It only concerns me more. Hudson’s a good guy. He’s working hard to get himself and his brothers out from beneath the stigma of being a child in care.

 Crime is the road he never wants to walk down. Another roar from the crowd has my gaze snatching back to the cage. Svyerson has just slashed his knife right across Derby’s chest, spilling blood that sprays across the canvas as they continue to fight. “Dad, you’ve got to believe me. End this.” 

“See, here’s the thing, Louhi. I don’t fucking believe you. I know Svyerson touched what’s mine!” he replies sharply, grabbing the back of my neck and forcing me to watch the fight. “Dad…” I plead, hating the way my voice gives me away. This is all my fault. Every part of it. “There’s nothing going on!” But even to my own ears it sounds false. “DON’T BULLSHIT ME!” he roars, squeezing my neck tighter, his fingers digging painfully into my skin. “Now watch the fight!” “Don’t do this,” I argue. Beg, actually.

 “This is for your own good, but if you fight me on this then I will go out there right the fuck now and shoot him in the motherfucking head,” he hisses into my ear. “Do you understand me?” “Yes,” I whisper, giving Svyerson the only chance I can because Carter is many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. Svyerson has to win this fight so that together we can convince Carter he’s wrong. It’s the only chance he has. The only chance we have. As my gaze lands on Svyerson, I silently mouth the words he’d uttered just minutes ago inside the cage, sending a silent prayer to the man I love. “Tales you win, heads you lose, and the fighters of Tales never lose.” He has to win. He has to.

Syverson’s pov

Death is pretty fucking painless when all is said and done. I don’t feel a goddamn thing, not the broken ribs, not the gashes to my arms, chest, back and thighs from the crowbar Derby is wielding so expertly. I don’t feel my broken nose or cracked eye-socket. I don’t feel the bruises  or the deep gash to my head that sent me free-falling into the arms of darkness. I don’t feel anything. But I do hear something. A scream.

A fucking cry of pain so loud, so deafening, that even in the throes of death it drives a hook into my soul and drags me back from the motherfucking light at the end of the tunnel. A light that shouldn’t welcome the likes of me, but does. It comes again, and again and again. Her screams punctuated with my name. 

Sy

 Sy

 Sy

 Svyerson!

 It’s familiar, her voice, and the pain within it is like a fist wrapping around my heart and forcing it to pump faster, harder, until death crawls away and the light fades, leaving me with nothing but excruciating pain and a banging fucking headache. 

Right now, I can do nothing other than feel.

 Feel the pain.

 Feel the bloody canvas beneath my cheek.

 Feel fingers pinch my skin as someone tries to roll me over.

 Feel a heart breaking open with every second I don’t respond.

 “Svyerson, please wake up!”

 Darlin.

 Saoirse.

 But try as I might, I can’t fucking move.

I can barely fucking breathe. I’m incapable of anything other than holding on to her voice, using it to ground me, to lure me back to consciousness, one painful breath at a time. More noise filters into my brain that’s rapidly trying to make sense of the situation. Memories piece together as the sound of a man yelling at everyone to get the fuck out rings in the air.  It’s Dom. Deeper voices merge with the cacophony of sound, Saoirse’s sobs a burden as she lies across my back, pawing at me now. Yet I remain still, weighted down by her grief.

 Fuck knows I want to reassure her, I want to tell her that I’m alive, that I’ve survived the single hardest fight of my life, but that would be a lie. The biggest fight is yet to come. So I lay here instead, on the blood-splattered canvas, and wait for my other senses to return one by one, drawing on every last drop of strength left in my body and gathering it together so I can do what  I must and protect the woman I love. After sound and touch, scent returns. 

The smell of blood, metallic and meaty. I’m surrounded by the stench of it. Fucking choking on it. Next it’s sight. Spots of color invade my vision as I slowly crack open my eyes a sliver. The world reappears in shades of red first. There’s blood everywhere, a huge fucking pool of it that I’m lying in. But as I focus, trying to ignore the metallic stench of butchered flesh, my gaze falls to a wide-eyed Derby, his sightless eyes unseeing, the knife I impaled him with sticking out of his gut, the serrated edge making mincemeat of his bowels. Didn’t stop him from bringing down the crowbar on my head though. The last thing I remember is blood spurting from his lips before the world went black. He’s dead. I’m the victor. Except I’m not. Not yet. Because our fight was just a show, a fucking good one at that, given death had me in its grasp only moments ago and Derby has stepped into the afterlife. The King wanted Derby dead for fucking his wife and Carter wanted me dead for loving his daughter. They both needed revenge. Looks like I fucking delivered, at least partly. “Remove the bodies. Get this shit cleaned up,” I hear Carter order, his voice a cold, unyielding hammer to my painful head. “Yes, boss,” Dom replies, the heaviness of his voice as painful to hear as Saoirse’s distress is. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was gutted by my apparent death.

“Get the fuck away from him!” Saoirse yells, her weight pushing off of me as she stands. I watch through slitted lids as she strides towards Carter, gun in hand, oblivious to the fact I’m not actually dead. Not fucking yet, anyway. She’s holding a gun, and that makes me feel so much better because fuck knows I’ve been worrying about her from the moment she stepped out of the cage with Carter. I’d lost sight of her almost immediately, too busy trying not to fucking die and knowing that I had to win this fight in order to keep her safe from him. Except she isn’t safe. She never will be whilst he remains alive. “Lower the gun, Louhi!” Carter demands. “There’s no need for dramatics. Everyone’s fucking gone.” “Fuck you, Carter!” she replies, refusing to do as he demands. Good girl. Rodriguez, the King and Dom are standing just outside of the cage, right in my line of vision. Both the King and Rodriguez are watching this all unfold, neither paying me any attention. Clearly they think I’m dead, just like Saoirse and Carter do. Dom’s gaze however falls to me, his eyes widening a fraction as I blink at him a couple of times, willing him not to rat me out. I’m praying I’ve read him right and he’s going to keep his mouth shut.

 I’ve got one chance at this, and one chance only. He gives me the tiniest nod, then looks away. I make a mental note to buy him a fucking drink when this shit is over. “You’re a fucking monster!” Saoirse yells. I’ve never seen her so enraged, so fucking broken, so radiantly beautiful in her anger.

 I want nothing more than to stand by her side, to back her whilst she takes on her father and any other motherfucker who dares try to control her. Instead, I use these few precious moments to gather my wits and concentrate on mentally checking my body. I hurt, there’s no denying that, but that’s a good thing. Hurting means I’m alive, and that’s all I need to be to end this. “Louhi, lower the gun and behave.”

  “Behave?! Screw you!” Louhi continues, screaming at her father now, her rage undeniable. “You killed him!” Carter shakes his head. “No, he did that all by himself by fucking you and fucking me over. He knew the rules. He broke them. There was only ever going to be one motherfucking outcome. Betray me and die. End of.” “We’ve never fucked!” she screams, lifting the gun and aiming it at Carter’s chest. “Svyerson is loyal, so fucking loyal that he refused to sleep with me even when I offered myself up to him!”

For a moment Carter appears taken aback, then a smile glides across his face. “You think I’m fucking stupid? No man would ever deny themselves a hot piece of ass, so your lies are worthless to me. Svyerson made me a promise, Louhi, and he broke it when he went after you. He betrayed me.” “He didn’t!” Louhi exclaims, her broken voice taking on a hard edge as they circle one another. I watch transfixed, enraptured by the woman who’s snared my heart so thoroughly. She’s a lioness, prowling, baring her teeth at her dad, a man who was willing to sell her to pay off his debts. 

Yeah, he’s that man. Looks like The Crib Club has been a home away from home for Carter over the last six months, and all of Tales’ profits have been sunk into card games and pussy. Turns out the bastard was willing to sell his daughter to the King to clear the debts racked up by his gambling habits and addiction to pleasure. A debt that I will clear the moment I kill the cunt. Carter might be acting holier than thou right now, but he’s the fucking villain, not me, and because of that he won’t live to see another day. The moment he has his back to me, I launch myself upright. Adrenaline and the need to protect the woman I love propelling my feet forward the few paces to rip the knife from Derby’s body and then drive it into Carter’s back, straight through his heart.

He dies instantly. He didn’t see it coming and neither did Saoirse. Her face is a mixture of astonishment and relief as she stares at me, oblivious in the moment that her dad is dead in my arms. Her eyes brim with tears, tears that never fall as relief is quickly replaced with shock, then bewilderment as blood gurgles up Carter’s throat, spilling from his lips. I watch in slow motion, breathing heavily from the exertion and pain as she tries to make sense of what’s happened. Her eyes widen and her body stiffens as realization dawns. Drawing the knife free with one hard yank, I let Carter’s body fall to the canvas with a loud thud. He falls onto his back, blood pumping from the wound and mingling with the viscous pool beneath my feet. “Saoirse,” I murmur, my arms falling to my side as I drop to my knees with exhaustion right beside Carter. His sightless eyes stare up at me, and even though I know he’s dead, I need to make sure. Ripping at his shirt, I pull it open, revealing his bare flesh. Blood oozes from the wound on his chest, streaking down his skin in rivulets. Despite the leaking blood, his chest is still. “Carter?” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion as her gaze drops to him. “It’s over,” I reply, looking up at her.

She’s pale, ghostly, her mouth hanging open as she blinks with confusion. “Svyerson?” “It’s over,” I repeat. Only that dark part of me, the part that is more Svyerson than man, still needs to prove to her that I’m willing to cut the heart out of any man who dares hurt her, that I’m willing to do whatever the fuck it takes to protect her. So, with a bloodcurdling roar, I stab the knife through Carter’s sternum, using the serrated edge to saw through his bone. She deserves nothing less than his bloody heart, and I’m going to deliver it to her right the fuck now. “Stop!” she shouts, her demand stilling my hand. My head lifts, the rage I feel at the man who so easily wanted to sell his daughter making way for another emotion, empathy. She looks broken. 

Defeated in a way that guts me. I drop my hands from the knife handle, falling back on my arse as I watch the woman I love drop to her knees. “Saoirse, listen,” I reach for her, but she shakes my hand away, flinching from my touch. “Don’t!” “Saoirse…” But the look she gives me quietens me faster than any weapon ever could. “Dad?” she questions, resting the gun on the floor beside her then cupping Carter’s face. “Dad?” Her voice is no more than a whisper as she twists his head to the side, ducking closer to him and ignoring the twelve inch knife sticking out of his brutalized chest. “He’s dead.” My head snaps up as I watch the King step into the cage, followed by Rodriguez and Dom. I’d almost forgotten about them. Rodriguez is uncharacteristically quiet, and Dom gives me a small nod. He’s a smart man, he knows that I would never do something like this if I didn’t have a good fucking reason for it. There will be time for an explanation, but that time isn’t now. “You!” she hisses, grabbing the gun and getting to her feet, aiming it at the King. “This was you!” “No, Saoirse,” I interrupt as I force myself to my feet, readying myself to act if the King decides to go back on his word. Fuck only knows it gets my goat backing the cunt, but this is all part of the deal I made to keep Saoirse safe. “Shut the hell up, Svyerson!” I want to tell Saoirse everything, and I will when I can ensure her safety, but right now I just need to get her through this night without starting a fucking war.

 Keeping Saoirse in the dark for a short time will protect her in the long run. It has to. “You’d be wise to listen to your boyfriend, Louhi,” the King says, unperturbed by the fact she is pointing her gun at his head. “Trust me, Saoirse,” I urged, willing her to see past the carnage. To think and not act this time. At The Crib Club I made my own deal with the King after he revealed Carter’s plans. The King had said that he’d never intended on taking Saoirse for his own, and whilst I didn’t believe a word of it, I was willing to suspend disbelief to get what I wanted for Saoirse. Her security, her safety, and her father’s debt paid in full. All I had to do was kill Derby and Carter. The King would remain a silent business partner, and continue to provide fighters, taking a cut of the profits. In turn he would keep her in business under his protection, and whilst the whole part about him giving her his protection is a bitter pill to swallow, I’m man enough to know that I’m only one man, and one man does not an army make. At least not until Saoirse and I can build one ourselves. And we will.

The caveat to this agreement was that I take full responsibility for killing her dad, hiding the fact that a contract was drawn up between the two men. To be honest, after the King showed me their contract, killing Carter was the easiest fucking decision to make. Not killing the King for agreeing to it, the motherfucking hardest. I don’t like the man. Don’t fucking trust him, and I certainly don’t believe he will keep to his side of the deal, but for the time being I’m willing to let him live so that Saoirse and I can make a plan, and build a fucking army. There will come a day when we’ll both have our revenge, but in the meantime we use him, then take him out when the time is right. “This is on you,” she snarls, her rage fucking beautiful to behold.

 She may be at her most vulnerable right now, but she is fierce, and one day soon she’ll be unstoppable. “This has nothing to do with me,” the King says without even flinching. I’ll give him that, the guy has balls of fucking steel and the best poker face I’ve ever seen. “You’re a liar,” she accuses, her finger tightening over the trigger. “Saoirse, this is on me,” I say, stepping over Carter’s body and standing between her and the King, stumbling a little as my head pounds like a motherfucker.

I fucking hate that I’m in this position, protecting the King, but it’s only temporary. His time will come. “Bullshit. What do you have on Svyerson?” Saoirse presses, stepping to the side, trying to get a clear shot at the King. I move in front of her again and she bares her teeth at me. “Not a thing,” the King replies. “I’m as shocked as you are about how this all panned out.” “Bullshit!” she shouts, fury leaking from her now. “Saoirse, listen,” I say, holding my hands up and trying my fucking best not to pass the fuck out. “This is on me. I’m responsible.” “What?” she asks, snapping her gaze back to me. “I went to Carter this morning about us. I explained everything to him. I tried to make him listen. He wouldn’t.” “And he didn’t kill you the second you told him?” I shake my head. “No. He said if I won the fight tonight then he’d allow us to be together. I took him for his word, Saoirse,” I lied, because I didn’t say a damn thing about us. As far as I was concerned he knew nothing. I only realized that wasn’t the case when he asked Rodriguez to bring the weapons into the cage. Right now I’m not a hundred percent certain which fuck told him, but given the look on Rodriguez’s face, I’m guessing it’s him. “He wanted me dead. That’s why he allowed weapons into the ring. He also wanted a bloodbath, and he fucking got one.” “Yet you survived,” she whispers, sadness brimming in her eyes as she aims the gun at me now.

“Saoirse, what are you doing?” “You killed my dad, Svyerson.” “I had to do it. He would never have allowed us to be together, Saoirse,” I say, covering up the fact that I did it to protect her. That he was the fucking monster ready to sell her off to the King to save his own arse. “And I have to do this,” she replies, her sadness replaced now with a hardness that is so much like her dad it makes my blood run cold. “We can work this out,” I say, watching as she shuts down her emotions one by one. “I will never be respected in this business if I let you walk after what you did.” “Saoirse, I was protecting you!” “Don’t you see, it doesn’t fucking matter. We could’ve found a way around this together, but you chose to murder Carter instead. How can I let that go? Tell me how?” she pleads.

“Darlin, think about this…” Dom says, his voice trailing off when she snatches her head around to look at him. “It’s Louhi to you,” she snarls. “Louhi, listen, you’re in shock,” he says quickly, and the room around me fucking spins as darkness claws at my brain. “Understandably so, but even I can see that Svyerson did what he had to do.” 

“And where does that leave me?” she shouts, her voice cracking. “Carter is dead and the club is mine.” Her gaze flicks back to me now and the anguish in her eyes almost floors me. “It’s too late for me to choose. They’ll walk all over me if I don’t do this. You know that.”

 “No one would dare fuck with you, not with my backing, Louhi,” the King interjects. “I have a reputation enough for the both of us.” “And what makes you think I want your backing, huh? This is my club now,” she snaps. “Well, see, that’s where things get a little complicated,” the King says, and my fucking stomach bottoms out because I know why that is. Carter well and truly fucked the gravy train on this one. “What do you mean?” she asks, the gun moving from my chest back to the King’s.

“In order to get my backing, your father signed over a percentage of the club to me. I now own a forty-eight percent share in the club, and that will remain in place for as long as it is profitable for the both of us or you’re able to raise two million dollars to buy me out.” “Two million dollars? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” “Those were the terms of our deal, Louhi,” the King says, conveniently leaving out the most important part, that Carter was going to sell her to him to clear his debts and secure the deal. I glance at the King, not liking the way he’s fucking smirking like he assumes she’ll never be able to raise that kind of money. He’s a fool to underestimate her. 

“Or I could just shoot you dead and rip up the contract now,” she replies, bringing a smile to my lips. “I’m feeling particularly trigger happy.” “You could, but we both know that wouldn’t be wise. I have men who know where I am and what time I’m expected back. If I don’t turn up they’ll rain hellfire down on you. You stand alone, Louhi, with one man barely alive.” “She has me too,” Dom says. “Three against two hundred loyal men. You do the math,” the King retorts. I can see the defeat written across her face as she tries hard to figure out what to do. We both know that acting out of passion and anger now will be a mistake.

 She’s smart enough to know that what she needs is time to figure everything out, to make a plan. That’s what I’ve given her, us. Time. “You’re right, it wouldn’t be wise to kill you.” “That’s a good girl,” he replies, the fucking patronising prick. “But don’t for one second think you can walk all over me. I’m not a bleeding heart. I’m a Davidson… No, I’m Louhi and no one fucks with me. Let this be your warning.” “Understood,” the King retorts evenly. She shifts her attention back to me. “I warned you not to break my heart.” 

“I was protecting you!” I protest. “No, killing Carter wasn’t about you protecting me, it was about you protecting yourself and believing that I’m incapable of finding a solution to a problem that affects the both of us.” “That wasn’t what—” I begin, but she cuts me off. “Once again you failed to consider that I had a say in all of this. Me. I don’t need a man to make decisions for me, I need a man who’s willing to stand beside me whilst we find a solution together. You’re just like all the rest.” “Saoirse, you don’t understand…” “Don’t. Not another word, Svyerson.”

“I did this for us, for you. I fucking love you,” I say, willing her to believe me. Needing her to know, if nothing else, that’s the truth. “Love?” she laughs bitterly. “People like you and me don’t get to love.” Then she points her gun at me and pulls the motherfucking trigger.

[kenzirr]

The summer sun cast a golden hue over the lush greenery and sparkling waters of the Outer Banks. The Pogues were gathered at The Wreck, their usual hangout spot, sharing laughter and stories over a spread of burgers and fries. John B, Sarah, JJ, Kiara, and Pope were engrossed in animated conversation when Y/N walked in.

Y/N, a Kook, had always stood out with her confidence and charm. She moved to the Outer Banks a few years ago and, despite the social divide, she had always had her eyes set on Pope Heyward. His intelligence, kindness, and occasional awkwardness were endearing. She had admired him from afar for a while, waiting for the right moment to make her feelings known.

As she approached the table, Y/N felt a small smile tug at her lips. Today seemed like the perfect day to take a step forward. She was smooth and collected, traits that always set her apart.

"Hey guys," Y/N greeted, sliding into the empty seat next to Pope. She made sure her presence was felt without being overbearing.

"Hey, Y/N!" the group chorused, their faces lighting up at her arrival.

"What's up?" John B asked, taking a swig of his soda.

"Not much," Y/N replied, her gaze naturally drifting to Pope. "Just enjoying the day. Thought I'd come see what you all were up to."

Pope shifted slightly in his seat, his nerves evident but manageable. "Hey, Y/N," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "We were just talking about the next treasure hunt plan."

"Oh, sounds intriguing," Y/N said, leaning in slightly, but keeping it casual. "You always come up with the best plans, Pope."

Pope's ears turned a shade of pink. "Well, I mean, it's a team effort," he stammered.

Y/N smiled, her fingers idly tapping on the table. "Of course, but you're definitely the brains of the operation. I bet you could find anything if you put your mind to it."

JJ, sensing an opportunity to tease his friend, smirked. "Oh, Pope's got a lot of talents, Y/N. You should see him in action."

"I'm sure he does," Y/N replied, her eyes never leaving Pope's. "Maybe he can show me sometime."

Sarah nudged Kiara and whispered, "Looks like someone's interested in Pope."

Kiara grinned. "Took them long enough."

Pope cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "So, Y/N, have you ever gone treasure hunting before?"

"Not really," Y/N admitted, "but I'd love to learn. Especially if you’re my teacher."

John B chuckled. "Looks like Pope's got himself a student."

Pope smiled nervously, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "I, uh, I think I can manage that."

Y/N leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, Pope, there's something really attractive about a man who knows his stuff."

Pope's eyes widened slightly, and he fumbled with his drink. "Uh, thanks, Y/N. I, um, think you’re pretty amazing too."

"Aw, thanks," Y/N said, her eyes sparkling. "Maybe we can go on a little adventure together sometime? Just the two of us?"

The rest of the group watched with amused expressions, enjoying seeing their usually composed friend so flustered.

"Yeah, that sounds… that sounds great," Pope managed to say.

"Perfect," Y/N said, giving him a warm smile. "It's a date then."

JJ couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. "Man, Pope, you’re smooth."

"Shut up, JJ," Pope muttered, though there was a small smile on his face.

Y/N placed a gentle hand on Pope's arm. "Don't listen to him. I think you're doing just fine."

Pope looked at her, a mixture of nerves and happiness in his eyes. "Thanks, Y/N. I’m looking forward to it."

"Me too," Y/N replied, giving his arm a light squeeze. "I'll see you around, Pope." With a final smile to the group, she stood up gracefully and walked away, her goddess braids swaying gently with her movements.

As soon as she was out of earshot, the teasing began.

"Dude, what was that?" JJ exclaimed, still chuckling. "You were blushing so hard I thought you might pass out!"

"Shut up, JJ," Pope said again, but his smile betrayed his annoyance. "I wasn't blushing that much."

"Oh, you were," Kiara chimed in, grinning. "It was cute, though."

John B clapped Pope on the back. "Looks like Y/N's got a thing for you, man. You gonna ask her out?"

Pope, still recovering from the encounter, shrugged. "I mean, she kind of asked me out already, didn't she?"

Sarah laughed. "Yeah, she did. And you better follow through. Y/N's great. Don't mess this up."

Pope nodded, a determined look crossing his face. "I won't. I really like her."

JJ put an arm around Pope's shoulders, giving him a friendly shake. "That's the spirit. Now let's just hope you don't trip over your own feet on this date."

Pope rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide his smile.

[heycarrots]

My entire life, I thought I had straight hair.

You might ask, how do you NOT know your hair is wavy? Doesn’t it wave naturally?

It does, but only if allowed the opportunity and the encouragement to take its natural shape.

Growing up, if you were a girl, you got up early before school, showered, and then gave yourself an EXHAUSTING salon-level blowout every single morning. If you didn’t, if you let it *gasp* NOT be flat and shiny, you were considered dirty, unkempt, not feminine enough. The only exceptions being the CURLY folks, the female identifying goddesses who could NEVER ever be mistaken for straight-haired girls because their hair slingshots back into shape the moment any moisture hits it.

Over the years, I laid on more damage that society demanded, or so I believed. I bleached it to match my Marilyn aesthetic at the time. Platinum blonde, ramrod straight and then, ironically, hot rolled into submission to create the look of artificial pin curls.

All that bleach and all that heat, of course, destroyed the strength of my hair. It was brittle and, while it looked beautiful from the outside observer, I was losing a battle with it.

Growing up in South FL, the heat and humidity were my constant source of struggle. No matter what I did, how much I ironed my hair silky straight, it would fluff up like a chia pet within 15 minutes of going outside.

Looking at other girls around me who did not share this same struggle, I felt defeated. Why can’t my hair just lay flat? I mean, it LOOKS straight in the morning, I’ve always been able to shock it straight since childhood . . . What’s happening to my hair?

Well, motherhood happened. I was too tired to continue my battle with the blow dryer and flat iron every day, so I said fuck it, and just started letting it air dry.

At this point, my strands had been beaten down to the point where they were like, yeah . . . we’re not gonna lie flat and be cooperative, but we also don’t have the proteins and care required to spring back to life. So I got what could best be described as slightly bent frizz. I was very close to accepting this as just my lot in life when someone said, look at all that frizz! It looks like your hair is trying to curl.

My initial response was . . . No way! It’s definitely straight! It’s always been straight. I’ve worked really hard to assure it’s straight because, for me, the alternative was unattainable.

This kind soul turned me onto the curly hair method and assured me that If I put in the work to undo the damage I’d done to it over the course of my entire life, I would see significant change.

The day I finally accepted this was when schools shut down in Japan and I lost my job during the pandemic. I no longer had a reason to conform.

So, over the course of the next few months, I implemented the changes she had suggested and my hair improved dramatically! I won’t say it was always pretty . . . It was super awkward at first and I had to endure cold silent judgement when out and about in ULTRA conservative rural Japan, where any texture in your hair is equated with moral decay (not even exaggerating . . . try going to an onsen with a visible tattoo).

But now . . . my hair is thriving. As soon as water hits it in the shower, it clumps up and beings to curl. I haven’t straightened my hair myself in years.

If you’re thinking this sounds a bit like a metaphor, that’s because it is. Yes, this IS also the truth about my hair journey.

But just like my hair, I went through my entire life assuming I was straight. I’m married. I was married previously. I’ve had some very good relationships with men. I’ve had some REALLY bad relationships with men, but my relationships with my female friends have always felt a bit desperate, a showering of affection I tried to mentally attribute to my being on the spectrum.

Events in my life have recently caused some serious reflection . . . on female friendships I’ve had over the years that felt entirely one-sided, a longing for something deeper that just wasn’t reflected back at me. At a certain point, after losing my dearest friend to cancer in my early 20s, I shut down female friendships. They were too painful for me and I never understood why.

I am not straight. Never have been. I’m bisexual. This doesn’t change my relationship with my husband, any more than the fact that I appreciate most men would cause me to dart off after the nearest alternative. However, accepting this about myself has unlocked a sea of understanding about my past, about my role in those failed friendships, the expectations I was unknowingly placing on these girls which, because they were hidden, even from myself, they were destined to fall short of.

Over the course of the last month, I’ve been reeling with this paradigm shifting revelation and one thing I’ve come to understand is that I’m not my own type. I’m not drawn to girls who look like me (or at least look like I DID, with the pinup makeup and exhausting beauty routine). There’s nothing WRONG with that, but I’m not attracted to it because it holds no mystery for me. I know how hard they are working. I know the art and the artifice. Because I never looked at a woman as beautiful as Max and had FEELINGS, I assumed I had to be straight. If one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen makes me think *meh*, then I guess I must not be attracted to women.

But then, there are those women who simply do not give a fuck. Not a single one. And yet, they glow. They know no shame and have always known who they are and fight for the world as it should be, not as it is. And look at that! It appears I do have a type, after all. I guess you could say they are the Madis of this world, the Mirandas of this world.

To those women, thank you. I intend to approach life brackets emptied. Unredacted.

Love is love.

[lanayru-the-water-god]

Living with secrets

While Lanayru’s physical strength has returned, Nerin soon finds out that her waterdrop has been keeping a secret of her own.

(Part 5 of the “All for the maiden” series)

Word count: 2683

The back doors to Lanayru’s palace glimmer in the light, their intricate white and gold pattern standing out against the sky-blue of the surrounding area. Nerin approaches, her heart racing with anticipation as she pictures her best friend’s smiling face. Lanayru had sent her today, supposedly to hang out like they always do. At last.

In the weeks since the Water Goddess’s awakening, Lanayru has kept her distance in order to catch up on all the days she missed. Although Nerin has understood why, she has lived through each day with an ache in her heart, longing to spend more time with Lanayru; they could sit and giggle together, playing with the new baby dragon, teasing Cordelia and the other Dwellers…just like it had been before.

The Swan Goddess stops in front of the doors, her brows furrowing with confusion. While there is usually a Dweller or two sitting outside to guard the place, today it is eerily silent. Nobody is here.

Taking a deep breath, she tries to open the right-hand door, only to find that it’s locked. Just as she raises her fist up to knock, a click sounds from the other side and the door pulls open.

She was waiting right here!

“Lanayru!” she shrieks with delight. “Oh, it’s so—“

The figure in the doorway frowns, her royal blue and purple hair taking Nerin aback.

That’s…not Lanayru.

“Oh…Cordelia.” She puts her hand back down to her side and smiles, trying to hide her disappointment. “I-I’m sorry, I thought—“

“It’s alright.” Dweller 2 chuckles, stepping aside to let Nerin in. “But there is something important I must discuss with you, before I let you see her.”

The Swan Goddess freezes, trying to peer down the hall. “Can’t that wait for just a bit? Where is she?”

“I can’t tell you yet. Lady Lanayru’s orders. Please, just follow me, and soon your questions shall be answered.”

Cordelia closes the door behind them, locking it in place, before leading a nervous Nerin down the elegant corridor. The Dweller’s colored hair stands out starkly against the rest of her figure, dressed in all black with a glimmering cape nearly touching the floor. Her heels click-clack against the tiles, as do Nerin’s, and the Swan Goddess marvels at the woman Lanayru created all those centuries ago.

She is truly beautiful.

But observing Lanayru’s creation brings her back to Lanayru, and her heart sinks again. A situation like this has never happened before, and she wonders if something has gone wrong. It must have, right? The Water Goddess wouldn’t shut herself out otherwise…

The two reach the sitting room, with its large intricate windows and flowy white curtains. Nerin checks around the room for Lanayru, only to find nobody there. Cordelia draws her attention to the low round table at the center of the room, where a piece of paper sits atop one end. It has writing on it. A letter.

“Is this for me?” Nerin asks, reaching out to take it.

“Indeed, this is from your waterdrop. I shall let you read it now…it might be difficult to do so.”

What does that mean?

With careful hands, the Swan Goddess holds up the paper, filled on both sides with unmistakable small, loopy writing. Lanayru’s writing.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she begins…

My darling Fea,

This is not an easy letter to write. I must inform you that I am not doing well. Although I may have regained my strength now, my emotional state has deteriorated. I have laid in my bed weeping, for you and for what I must have put you through. For I, too, have a secret. I have been hiding this from you since my head cleared enough to fully think, and I believe it’s time I let it out. While I would like to share this news with you face to face, I am too heavy with guilt to do so, and for that I hope you can forgive me.

You might still be thinking of how you’re gonna tell me, right? Or if you will at all. So let me make this easier, ok?

You don’t need to tell me, Nerin.

I know.

I always knew.

My words now may sting, I am aware you have wanted to keep this from me, and I am truly sorry. But I feel this is the only way. We are both dealing with heavy emotions and baggage to carry, mine from giving you such a traumatic experience, and yours from trying to keep me unaware of the truth. Don’t try to deny it, I see from your behavior how much you’ve been hurting, and each occurrence of this deals a heavy blow to my heart.

Again, my deepest apologies for keeping this to the written word. Now that I have explained this to you, I think we shall finally talk it out. Only then will I begin to heal.

I am outside, on the terrace by the right-hand side of the room. Please come, little one.

Much love,

Lana

The letter slips out of the Swan Goddess’s hands, and she freezes in place, unable to move. Lanayru still knew she still fucking knew oh my gods she knew this whole time-

“You okay, Lady Nerin?”

Startled, she whips around to face the blue-haired Dweller, still standing behind her.

“Oh, Cordelia, I’m sorry-“

“She’s over there.” Cordelia points to a large set of glass doors, her black and silver bracelets jingling. “Go to her, she’s been upset for quite some time.”

Through the glass and out onto the elegant patio, a familiar figure catches Nerin’s eye: the back of a short blonde bob with two pointy ears sticking out, the long flowy skirts in baby blue, droplet-shaped earrings glistening in the light…

“Lanayru!!” The Swan Goddess bolts for the door without thought, letting her dainty legs take her, and leaving Cordelia inside. With quick fingers she swings the door open and steps outside, closing it behind her.

The Water Goddess sits at the edge of a small spring, on a smooth round border functioning as a bench. She doesn’t turn her head, just stares out into the beautiful views of her domain, hands clasped in her lap. Does she know I’m here? Did she hear me?

“Lanayru?” Nerin calls out tentatively, approaching where her best friend is seated. At the sound of her name, the Water Goddess finally turns to look.

“…You came,” she breathes, relief filling her blue eyes and tender face. “I…I didn’t know if you would be mad at me.”

“Mad?? Why would I be mad?”

“Because I wouldn’t tell you that I knew.” Lanayru gently taps the spot next to her. “Here, why don’t you sit down?”

Nerin obeys, tucking her skirts back slightly before taking a seat next to her friend. The slight breeze produces a soft jingling sound, from the silver and white jewelry dangling from her dress and four sets of earrings.

“You knew…this whole time? H-how did you figure it out? Did you—“ She pauses in thought, her mind flashing back to the moment of Lanayru’s first awakening. “Do you remember that day?”

“…What day?”

“When you first woke up from recharging.”

“No…? I mean, I remember waking up, at some point, and then…” Lanayru’s brow furrows. “I don’t think you were there, though…just Cordelia. She told me I was fading in and out for a while, and…after that it gets a bit fuzzy, sorry.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Nerin smiles slightly. “I just wanted to make sure…I know I’ve asked you that before and you said no, but…”

“You think I would lie to you?”

“No, of course not! It’s just that…” A weak, half-conscious Lanayru comes to her mind as she trails off, bringing a pang to her chest.

“What?” the Water Goddess asks. “What happened?”

Might as well tell her now.

“Well…” Nerin starts, a sigh escaping her lips. “You figured it out. Right then and there. I didn’t think you would, you were barely conscious and so disoriented, but—I told you too much, I gave myself away.” The solemn, guilt-stricken look on Lanayru’s face is enough to break her heart. “For thirty-five days I thought about how to tell you the story, with the hopes that you would never have to know, and since you haven’t brought it up again I thought—“

“I’m so sorry…” Lanayru touches a ringed hand to one of Nerin’s own, gazing into her eyes. “Guess I figured it out more than once, then. But when I heard your story, the one I remember…I saved Ivory, and then you came to carry me back to my domain, devastated to see me lying passed out on the ground. When I started to gain more awareness I realized that this story wasn’t adding up, little one. Why wouldn’t you have been there when your maiden was dying? In your spring of all places? The others wouldn’t have waited to call you until she was unconscious, right? And why would I be out there with her and not you? I’m never in your spring by myself…it all just sounded like one big cover-up to hide something else that troubled you. So to make it 100 percent certain, I recently brought my concerns to Cordelia. She confirmed it.”

Damn it.

DAMN IT!

Why did I tell all the Dwellers??

“….Oh, Lana…” she replies, as the Water Goddess moves her hand to fidget with a fold of her skirt. “I really didn’t want you to know. That’s why I never told you, because all this guilt you’re feeling- I was certain this would be your reaction.”

Lanayru stays silent, glancing down at her lap and letting out a deep exhale. For a second the only sound is the soft ripples of spring water, and the quiet chirping of distant bluebirds.

“My darling…I never wanted you to go through this, little one,” she speaks eventually, without looking up. “And none of this would have happened in the first place if I hadn't…you know…”

“Lanayru. No.” Nerin scolds. “Please don’t blame yourself! Do you know what would have happened had you not done anything?”

The Water Goddess nods her head slowly. “…Yeah, of course I do.”

“So you did a good thing, waterdrop, trust me. You saved someone’s life. Yes, what I had to witness was heartbreaking, but I’ll live. It’s much better than the alternative.”

She cringes as she speaks the last few words. No, don’t think about it. That didn’t happen. But she can’t help but picture if Ivory had been the one to die, not Lanayru…

“Little one…tell me.” Finally, Lanayru meets her gaze, tears running down her pale face. “What was that like?”

Nerin’s heart sinks in her chest, as she lets out a sigh.

“If you must know, it was the most painful thing I’ve ever had to…” She trails off. “Sorry, that’s not helping you at all—“

“No, go on. Please, tell me the truth.”

“…Okay,” she continues. “Well, you know how I told you that Ivory wasn’t awake to see you fall?” Taking in a breath, she hesitates. “The thing is, uh…she was. I lied to you, waterdrop. She was awake and very much lucid, and I wanted her to think you simply passed out. So after you went limp I buried my head into your chest so she wouldn’t see, and oh gods, I knew what to expect, but you weren’t breathing, you had no heartbeat, it was all just fucking silent, and I stayed there forever, minutes, hours, who knows how long it was…and Ivory tried to touch you but I shooed her away…it was haunting to not hear the beating of your heart because I knew you would come back but you were also gone, Lanayru, you were fucking dead—“

Burying her face into her hands, Nerin chokes out a sob. The memories she had been holding in are now free, giving her a tiny sense of relief, but now it’s almost as if she’s back in her spring, her head on top of Lanayru’s unmoving chest to shield the truth from her maiden…and she wants to forget this but she can’t, she can’t—

“…Fea?”

Slowly she lifts her head, at the sound of her precious nickname, to face her friend’s worried gaze.

“Oh, little one, I’m so sorry I asked…”

“Don’t apologize, please. You said we need to talk this out…I shouldn’t keep it inside any longer.”

“Well…” The Water Goddess sniffles, wiping a tear with her hand. “Is there…anything else?”

“I, uh…I do have one question,” Nerin’s own tears spill down her face as she watches her friend’s gloomy expression. “How-how long does that last? Before the resurrection?”

“Nobody knows exactly, my darling…but from our estimates, I would say up to two minutes.”

“…Two minutes??”

All of the pain, the waiting, the torture of silence…it was only two minutes?

“Yeah…that’s it, little one. I simply can’t fathom how long that must have felt for you, I mean—“

“Too long,” Nerin breathes. “It was too fucking long.”

Lanayru breaks eye contact with her friend, leaving the pair in silence briefly, before finally opening her mouth to speak again.

“…Rin, I am so sorry…beyond what words can say, I—I’m the reason you had to suffer like this, my stupid Healing Grace that wasn’t made for saving others, curse me! If only I was born with a power that didn’t fucking kill me every time I saved someone, I—“ Lanayru holds her hands out and weeps, stamping her foot onto the tiles in frustration and anger. “Whatever I do, I try to-to give one person…a second chance but I just end up hurting another! I’m never enough, I-“ She chokes on her own tears, letting out what must have been clawing through her since she discovered the truth. “I will…never be enough—“

Too heartbroken to respond, Nerin wraps an arm around Lanayru, bringing her in closer, and the Water Goddess rests her head on her friend’s fluffy feather shawl.

“I can’t forgive myself,” she continues, “I—I gave you…a traumatic experience… and now—now you still wanna be friends with the one who failed you.”

“Woah woah woah, Ru, stop,” Nerin interjects. “What makes you think you failed me?? That couldn’t be farther from the truth, waterdrop, you know that. You did everything you could to make sure my maiden wouldn’t leave me.”

“Y-yeah, I just…I wish I could save someone…without losing myself.” Lanayru sniffles, her tears running onto the shawl, and Nerin only squeezes her tighter. “I don’t wanna lose myself. All that does is hurt you.”

“I know, sweetie…oh, I wish I could change that for you…I don’t wanna lose you either. But you come back, right? You always do…and we get through it, we come back stronger. So we can get through this too, alright?”

Nerin gently runs a hand through Lanayru’s soft hair, feeling the silky strands between her fingers. The last few weeks have been draining, and she can only imagine how painful it’s all been for her friend. Pain that will take time to fully heal from.

Lanayru sighs. “…Alright.”

“Good, my darling. You will always be enough, remember that. Your Healing Grace may be less than perfect, but you’re still beautiful, kind, selfless…You’re still my Lanayru.”

“Aww…that’s so sweet…” The Water Goddess slowly lifts her head to look her companion in the eye. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Please, waterdrop…there is nothing wrong with you, ok? You have the most compassionate heart of anyone I know, and you never want any of us to suffer. I’m proud of you for telling me the truth, Ru.”

“Well…I can’t go through this alone,” Lanayru replies, wiping a tear with her sleeve. “Thank you, Fea. I really owe you one.”

Nerin smiles at her friend’s words of gratitude, even knowing that a repayment is never necessary. Just having her friend here, alive and breathing, with her full strength returned, is all she needs.

Because together, they can finally take their first steps on the long road to healing.

[emadarkblog]

can i please request max mayfield x fem reader angst? like you can write literally anything but maybe the smiths song reference could be good? thanksss <3

of course, love. i had a trouble choosing the right song so i hope this one can do. thanks for the request!

what difference does it make ♡ max mayfield

♡ [max says hurtful things after y/n's question]

warnings: angst, crying

♡ max mayfield x fem!reader (she/her)

♡ part 2

“running up that hill by kate bush”

“but what’s your favorite song?” max asked as you were laying on her bed, her hand around you waist.

“the smiths, but you have to guess which one.” you said as you looked down at her, smirking.

“heaven knows i’m miserable now…” you shook your head, “okay… is it there is a light that never goes out?” you shook your head again. she tried a couple of times but it ended up with you again shaking your head in response.

“i’ll tell you someday, i promise.” you said as you both drifted off to sleep.

you woke up first, sun shining through your eyelids. you opened your eyes and it took your breath away. max looked like a goddess, red hair spread out on pillows, rays of the sun touching her freckles, truly a breathtaking sight.

“you’re staring, creep.” she said, morning raspiness could be heard in her voice. you took a big breath and asked what you wanted to ask for weeks now.

“red… what are we?” 

she sat up, looking at you with widened eyes like she’s seen a ghost.

“what do you mean? we’re best friends” she asked, hoping for you to answer and let it go. it wasn’t like she didn’t like you. she loved you with every beat of her heart but things were just hard for her at the moment.

“if you don’t want to be something more just tell me but there’s no way we are just ‘best friends’ and you know it.” you argued, trying to keep calm but failing miserably as it broke your heart into a million pieces.

“y/n i can’t. i’m supposed to still love lucas, what would people think? what would boys think?” 

“oh what the fuck, max? you are the one who flirts with me and does this stuff, so why are you acting so homophobic? they would understand!” you raised your voice but instantly apologized. she got more frustrated with every word that left your mouth.

“i don’t want this! i don’t want you and i’m not homophobic and you know it! i just have my own problems that i have to figure out on my own and no, you can’t help me! nobody can, so stop trying already and get out!” and that was it. these words broke you, you couldn’t hold your tears back anymore so you let them fall.

“i don’t need you to like me back or whatever, i just wanted to know.” your voice cracked with every word, you almost choked on your own sobs. you started picking up your stuff, not even changing your clothes as you quickly wanted to get away from this situation.

max sat on her bed, watching you leave with her shirt on your frame. shirt that always looked better on you.

on your way home you remembered your night thoughts ‘two girls liking each other and boy and girl liking each other. what difference does it make?’

you smiled through your tearing eyes, your face completely covered in pain.

“a big one. a fucking massive difference.”