#i had too many ideas i had to write them all down

[joeyb1989]

running home to your sweet nothings* - joe burrow

summary: after a frustrating and hard loss to the chiefs, joe only wants you.

word count: 3.7k

pairing: joe burrow x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, smuttttt, sad/anxious/frustrated joe, pet names

a/n: another fic from me? what is this? LMAOO no but i’ve had an idea to write a fic based on sweet nothing for a while and a request came in and i knew it was the right time. if this fic sounds like total brain rot im sorry. i wrote this while i have covid and i haven’t really left my room in three days😭😭 anyways, hope you all enjoy.

*i didn’t really read over this, so if there’s mistakes (or if it’s just bad😭) please ignore them*

You were snapped out of your focused state by Joe placing a small object on the coffee table. “Look what I found in my pocket,” Joe added context to his action.

Your gaze left your notebook and found his outfit, seeing him clad in a gray t-shirt, which showed off his muscles nicely, and black cargos, which he loved wearing this past offseason. You look down at the small object to see the pebble you and Joe found in the off-season. “Do you think it ever misses Columbus sometimes?” Joe asked, joining you on the couch.

Flashback to this past off-season

“The sunset looks so pretty,” you smiled, taking a picture with your digital camera.

“You look so pretty,” Joe wrapped his arms around your waist from behind pressing a kiss to your cheek, earning a blush from you. “What’re you taking pictures of, sweetheart?”

You and Joe traveled to Columbus this weekend for his friend’s wedding a few days ago. You two decided to rent an Airbnb for the rest of the week to get in one last vacation before the season started.

“Those pebbles down there,” you said, pointing to two pebbles on the ground. One was an orangish-red color while the other was an almost-purple color – both Joe's and your favorite colors. “It’s like they represent us. They’re the only colorful ones.”

“How ‘bout we keep them?” Joe smiled as he picked the two up, putting the orange one in his cargo pants pocket, while handing you the other.

End of flashback

“Maybe,” you shrugged, “I thought we lost yours.”

“Yeah, me too. Yours is still in your memory box, right?” Joe asked.

“Mhm, we need to figure out what to do with them,” you sighed, “I don’t even remember why we took them home.”

“I don’t think there was a reason, baby,” Joe chuckled as you set your notebook on the coffee table, giving your full attention to him, “It just felt right.”

“I’ll put mine in your memory box before I leave,” Joe said, laying his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I wanna get my cuddles in right now.”

Even though Joe had this big male bravado out on the field, he was a total softie with you; which you loved. You loved how much comfort he found in cuddling with you, just like the comfort you found in cuddling with him.

“Nothing is bothering you, is there?” you asked. Joe would never say no to cuddling, but you knew that when he initiated it, something was going on in his head.

“Can I not just want to cuddle with my fiance?” Joe asked playfully.

“No, you can. But I just know that there’s probably something going on up there,” you said, running your thumb over his forehead.

“Just nerves, babe,” Joe sighed, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

Joe hated talking about his worries with anyone. The only exception was you, even if it did take a while for you to get it out of him. There were many times during his knee and wrist rehab when he would shut you out and keep all his fears trapped inside, but the two of you finally moved past that.

“Let me in,” you soothed, lightly scratching his scalp.

Joe sighed again before craning his neck to lock eyes with you. “The game tomorrow. I mean you were there last week, you saw how we all played like dog shit. I just… we can’t afford to play like that again. I can’t afford to play like that again. I know that we’ve improved this week at practice, but all of this outside noise doesn't help.”

“Joe,” you whispered while rubbing his back. It killed you to see him so worried about football. Football has been his life since he was a kid.

“I know I shouldn't worry about what people think… but I can’t take it sometimes. I know who I am. I know what the team is. I don’t get why we can’t put it together on the field. And those guys… it’s always hard to play them. I just… I’m tired of everyone’s opinions about me,” Joe expressed, undefeated.

The vulnerability and uncertainty in Joe’s words shock you to your core. Usually, Joe wouldn't care who was talking about him or what they were saying, but since the loss to the Patriots, he’s been very doubtful of himself.

“Baby,” you began, caressing his head, “I hate seeing you like this. You know why?”

“Why?” Joe whispered against your chest

“Because I know who you are and you know who you are. I hate when these middle-aged, couch potatoes of men get you down on yourself. You are Joe Burrow. You are a national champion, first draft pick, and one of the top quarterbacks in the league. But most importantly, you are Joe Burrow, the same guy that always gets back up when he’s down, the same guy that can do anything puts his mind to, and the same guy that always goes above and beyond everyone’s expectations.”

Joe sat up before bringing you into a hug, “Thank you, baby. It’s good to know that you’ll always be here even when the league gets tired of me.”

Ever since the two of you started dating Joe’s rookie year, you have always been there for him. You guys were just dating for a month when he injured his knee, but you made sure that you came over every day, even though you spent the night most of the time, to be there for him. You quickly fell in love with him after seeing how dedicated he is to everything in his life. He fell in love with you after seeing how caring and passionate you are about everything. You’re always there to hold him, comfort him, whisper sweet nothings to him, or give him endless pep talks after a hard loss or just a frustrating day of practice. He always found himself running home to you and your sweet nothings.

“What have you been working on today?” Joe asked, looking at your notebook on the coffee table.

“Just a little something,” you smiled, “you can read it if you want. I mean, it is about you.” One of your favorite hobbies was writing poems. It all started in college when you took a poem-writing class, and you just never stopped. Joe loved it about you. He’s read every poem that you have ever written. He always compliments you, it happens all the time. He loves them even more when he is your muse, though.

You watched as a smile curled on his face as he read your written words. “What a mind,” he said, kissing your forehead repeatedly, causing giggles to spill from your mouth. You eventually pulled his face down so that your lips would meet. The kiss quickly heated up as he moved you into his lap, his crotch under yours.

“Mmm, Joe,” you whimpered as his lips found the sweet spot behind your ear, lightly nipping at the skin. “Don’t mark me up too bad, baby.”

“No promises, sweetheart. Gotta let everyone in Kansas City know that you’re mine,” Joe growled.

Joe groaned as you started grinding your hips against his, feeling hardness below you. His hands went under your flimsy t-shirt as your lips found his again, Joe pulled away as he lifted it over your head. His eyes darted to your perky breasts – supported by an orange, lacy push-up bra. ���Holy shit,” Joe said breathlessly, “I swear to God, you get more and more beautiful every day.” He unclasped your bra, watching it fall off your chest before attaching his mouth to your left breast, swirling his tongue around your hard nipple.

“Baby,” you moaned as his hand gave your other breast a hard squeeze before moving his mouth to it and his hand to the other. “Joe, I need you inside me. Right now.”

“You’re awfully needy, aren't you,” Joe smirked, but quickly whipped his shirt off before unbuttoning your jean shorts, pulling them and your panties down at the same time. You reached down and hooked your fingers in his waistband, prompting him to lift his hips to give you easier access to pull down his boxers and shorts. Joe caught a glance at the clock, knowing he had to leave soon to catch his flight to Kansas City. “Baby, we gotta be quick, ‘kay?”

You nodded, giving his cock a few slow pumps before lining it up with your slick entrance, both of you moaning at the fullness. You set a fast pace snapping your hips into Joe’s, making him groan in pleasure. Joe was never loud in bed, except for when you rode him. He loved watching you move on him, your boobs bouncing with every move while chasing your pleasure with his dick.

“Mm, Y/n,” Joe whimpered into your ear, making you feel hot all over, “Just like that baby. Making me feel so fucking good with that tight pussy.”

“Joe,” you whimpered a few minutes later, slowing your pace as your legs got tired. Joe immediately understood you by your body language and began helping you move on him.

“Shit, baby,” you moaned as he continued to move you, but started to buck his hips up into yours and take one of your nipples into his mouth.

Joe knew you were getting close to release as your walls squeezed around him. “Come on baby, make yourself feel good,” Joe panted.

That was all the motivation you needed to grab onto the back of the couch for leverage and start bouncing on his cock, chasing your own pleasure while making Joe feel good too.

“Shit, that’s it. That’s my fucking girl,” Joe moaned as his cock twitched inside you.

“Joe- I’m-” you began before he bucked his hips into yours, hitting your g-spot. “Oh my god-”

“You like that?” Joe teased as he did it again, this time harder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Joe!” you screamed as your orgasm washed over you. 

A few more thrusts later, you felt Joe empty his load into you, your still-spasming walls milking every last drop of him. He pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead. “You did so good, baby,” Joe panted, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you smiled, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “That was intense, though”

“I think I passed out for a minute,” Joe chuckled.

As you two caught your breaths while whispering sweet nothings into each others’ ears, you almost didn’t notice Joe’s phone ringing.

“Shit,” Joe murmured as you handed it to him.

“Hey man, are you… going to the game?” a man teased on the other side of the line

“Yeah sorry, I… wanted to get one last workout in and lost track of time. I’ll be there soon, Tee.”

“Workout?” you teased as you wiggled your eyebrows.

“Well… many calories were burned,” Joe smirked, lifting you off his cock, both of you hissing at the sensation. Joe walked into the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with paper towels to clean you up.

After cleaning you up, getting you dressed, cleaning himself up, and getting himself dressed, Joe grabbed his bags and loaded the car up with them.

“Be careful on your flight, okay?” Joe said, wrapping his arms around your waist as your arms went around his neck.

“I will, don’t worry about me,” you smiled, ruffling his hair before fixing it.

“I always worry about you, you know that,” Joe whispered against your lips.

“I know,” you stated, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? If you need anything, call me. I’m just a phone call away, baby.”

“I know,” Joe said, kissing your neck.

“Baby,” you giggled, “you gotta go.”

“Okay, okay. Didn’t realize I marked you up that much. My bad, babe,” Joe said, lightly tracing the purple marks from him on your neck.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it by now,” you smiled, secretly liking it that Joe always marked you up. It felt protective like he needed other people to know that you're already spoken for. “I love you so much, Joe. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’m proud of you.”

“I love you, Y/n,” Joe said, wrapping you into a warm hug, “Call me when you land, okay?”

“I will,” you said as you pulled him in for one last kiss before he drove off to the stadium.

The next day - Arrowhead Stadium

As you sat in the stands with Joe’s parents, you started to grow more and more anxious as you waited for the game to start; especially after what Joe was going through last night.

Flashback to last night - Kansas City, Missouri

Joe: Baby, are you busy?

You: No, of course not. Are you okay?

Joe: I need you right now.

You: Okay, I'm here, Joey. Do you want to call or meet me somewhere?

You frowned as you saw that Joe left you on delivered for five minutes. He was usually a fast-responder, so you thought about calling him to check on him. Just when your finger was going to hit his contact name, there was a knock at your hotel door. You opened the door, revealing your fiance with red and puffy eyes. “Hey baby,” Joe sniffed but tried to smile.

“Aww, come here,” you whispered as you pulled him in for a hug after he closed the door. He immediately melted into your touch, his face burying into your neck as his sobs filled the room. “Shhh, I’m here. I’m always here, let it out,” you whispered into his ear, while you rubbed his back.

“I’m so scared, baby,” Joe sniffled, his arms holding you so tight like you were gonna disappear if he didn't.

“I’m here, you’re safe with me,” you soothed.

A few minutes later, Joe’s crying slowed down. “You wanna sit down?” you asked before he nodded. You led him over to your bed, and he pulled you into his lap once you two sat down.

“Just being here… it’s got me freaking out. I just need you.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked with soft eyes.

“Same stuff we talked about at home, there’s nothing else you could say to make me feel better than you already have. Can you just hold me?” Joe sniffled

“Of course,” you sadly smiled, laying down and pulling him onto your chest. As his crying picked up again, you had to fight your own tears, hating that he felt like this and there was nothing you could do to help.

End of flashback

Little did you know, just being there for him made all the difference. Joe woke up in his hotel room ready for the game, feeling confident in himself and his team. When you saw him before the game, it was like total whiplash but you were happy to see him ready for the game.

Your entire mood flipped once the game started. The entire team’s demeanor had flipped from what it was a week ago. A team that once played unsure and scared was now a major threat to the Super Bowl champs; even if it was a close game.

The 4th quarter had you fiddling with your engagement ring and chewing your nails out of nerves. Even though the Bengals were still winning, the Chiefs only needed one field goal to win. Tensions rose even more when Joe had to pull Ja’marr away from the ref.

You grabbed Robin’s hand as you saw the Chiefs kicker walk onto the field. You covered your eyes as he kicked. You heard Chiefs fans around you go wild, knowing what had just happened. When you opened your eyes, you saw Joe slamming his helmet on the ground knowing how frustrated he had to be.

——

The three of you met him down at the locker room. Your heart dropped when you saw the look on his face. He looked so upset. Usually after hard losses, Joe wouldn't hug anyone for long, including you; and that was no different today. He hugged his parents both at once before locking eyes with you. “Be safe on your way home. I love you,” Joe kissed your forehead before bringing you in for a brief hug.

“Yeah, this one definitely hurt him…” you thought to yourself.

Later that night - Cincinnati, Ohio

Your plane landed a lot earlier than Joe’s did, allowing you time to clean the messy house. You were also trying to mentally prepare yourself for him to shut you out like he usually did after a hard loss. You understood that he needed time to process his emotions by himself, but it always hurt you that he dealt with it by himself first.

You were putting some dishes in the cabinet from the dishwasher when you heard Joe come into the house from the garage. You turned your neck to give him a soft smile, fully expecting him to go up into his office for a couple of hours. Instead, he dropped his bags on the floor and rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I was an ass earlier,” Joe whispered, “Have you eaten anything?”

“You weren't an ass, you were frustrated… and that’s okay. And yeah, I ate at the stadium earlier,” you replied, “Have you?”

“No, but I’m not that hungry. Can we just go to bed?” Joe asked, his large hands rubbing your back.

“Mhm,” you softly smiled, leading him up to your shared bedroom, watching him strip out of his clothes once you two got up there. You picked out a matching set of satin pajamas and crawled into bed, Joe immediately cuddling up to you.

A few minutes of silence went by before Joe spoke up. “I’m sorry you went so far for a total shit show,” he mumbled.

“It wasn't a shit show,” you soothed, running your hands through his frosted tips, “Some terrible calls, but all of you played your heart out on that field. I know that you're frustrated, though and I’m sorry.”

“I just… cannot take it anymore, Y/n,” Joe sighed, “All of these reporters I think are trying to deconstruct my soul. All they want to do is make money off of my awful playing. I’m trying so hard, and all anyone is saying is that I should be doing more. You’re the only one that I can tell this to… but I think I’m just too soft for all of it. I’m just a guy wanting to play football. I understand it’s their job to talk about me as much as it’s my job to win a game, but I’m just so tired of it.”

“You’re the only one who doesn't want more from me. All you’ve ever wanted from me was just… sweet nothings,” Joe smiled. Even if the world was ending, or if everyone was busy with something else, all he needed was you. You were his home, you were his peace, you were his heart. Even in the awful football world where everyone was pushing and shoving, he had you to keep him grounded; and that was perfect for him.

You felt Joe’s body slightly relax after he told you how he felt. “You already go above and beyond for me,” you smiled, “Those reporters will see exactly who you are now, though. I think that game awoke something in you.”

“I’m sick of us being the underdogs. That all changes next week, that's a promise, sweetheart,” Joe smirked.

“You need to get something else off your chest?” you asked, “You still feel pretty tense.”

“No, I’ve got it all out. I do know one way I can get the rest of it out,” Joe smirked.

“How’s that?” you teased, playing innocent.

“Let me show you,” Joe whispered into your ear before he unbuttoned your pajama shirt, and kissed your body.

“Joe, don’t you think I should show you?” you asked

“Mm mm. You already do enough for me,” Joe smirked, taking one of your boobs into his mouth while he teased the other with his agile fingers.

——

Several moments later, after you and Joe both got each other off with your mouths, you found yourself below Joe, anticipating his thick cock to fill you up. “Please, baby,” you whined as he teased your entrance with his tip.

“Please what?” Joe smirked

“Please fuck me,” you breathlessly said

“Okay,” Joe smirked nonchalantly, pushing into you, making you gasp.

Joe set a relentless pace, you were moving up the bed more and more with each rough thrust. “God, baby, you feel so good,” Joe moaned before he leaned down and kissed you.

“Joe,” you moaned, “harder. Fuck me harder.”

“You. are. so. fucking. hot.” Joe said, punctuating each word with a thrust that was rougher than the last.

“Joey, right there,” you moaned as one particular thrust grazed your g-spot.

“So tight baby,” Joe whimpered, burying his head into your neck, as he, somehow, picked up the pace.

“Babe- I’m not gonna last long,” you whimpered, your nails scratching his back.

“That’s okay, just let yourself feel good,” Joe hissed.

A few thrusts later, you felt the rubber band in your belly begging to snap, “I’m- gonna cum Joe” you moaned.

“Cum on my cock, I wanna feel you,” Joe grunted.

“Joe!” you screamed as your high washed over you.

“Baby- I’m-” Joe said as his high washed over him, leaving him grunting and moaning into your ear.

After a few minutes of catching your breaths, Joe pulled out and pulled you into his chest. “I love you, Y/n”

“I love you more,” you smiled.

“That’s not fucking possible, but okay,” Joe chuckled, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can't believe I’m marrying the love of my life in seven months,” you chuckled out of disbelief.

“I’ve been waiting for that moment since the first time I laid eyes on you,” Joe smiled. “Thank you for loving the parts of me that aren't easy to love,” he said with every drop of love in his eyes, “Like my smartass attitude and my nerves.”

“It’s a pleasure to love them,” you whispered before planting a kiss on his lips, “It’s a pleasure to get to love you.”

——

request:

[endereies]

ATTRIBUTES AND QUALITIES - MS - BLURB

Pairing: bf!matt x gf!reader

Contains: The details of Matt as your boyfriend, on and off camera

Requested?: yes by @bernardsbendystraws - Request

Author's notes: This shouldn't have taken me so very long to write but neither should almost everything on my platform

Word Count: 1692

╰┈➤ SFW

༊*·˚ You both tended to avoid social situations, this included date nights

You had fixed your dress one too many times for it to slip Matt's conscience. It was adorned with two perfectly symmetrical bows which lined the skin of your shoulders. They barely reached the built in corset line, covered in a soft silk. It was so barely blue to the point where you could only see it in the dim lighting of your room. Pleats curve at your hips and flow to your knees. It was clear how much you were smitten with the fabric. Matt watched you steal glances at the mannequin poised at the front window, hence his insisted purchase.

Delicate touches, traced your hips from behind and as much as you felt unease within the situation, you melted into his touch. "Hi pretty" His voice felt so pure against your neck and you couldn't help but giggle. A few peppered kisses later, he leant back to watch the reflection of you both in the full body mirror. Knitted material covered his arms, covering sections of his darker belt. That was wrapped round his light-wash jeans that became a staple in his wardrobe.

"Hey Matt" It was a timid voice that escaped your mouth, you hadn't meant for it to. It faded into the air but when you finally looked up you were met with Matt's gaze, falling heavily on you. He smiled against your neck, allowing his breath to tickle he skin.

"You don't want to go out tonight do you..?" Guilt filled you almost instantly. You were aware that he had made reservations at this fine dining place he pointed out one late-night drive. It was a high end place but the atmosphere was one to be appreciated. Yet tonight you were dreading it.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I know you booked this fancy place but I-" His fingers quickly silenced you as he pressed them against your lips. He dryly laughed and turned your chin to face him directly. "I was hoping you'd say that..I just want to watch movies alongside you. How'd you feel with that, love?"

You sighed deeply, letting yourself relax onto him. "I'd love nothing more."

༊*·˚ He loved to make you feel safe and loved whenever he could

The last few days had been filled with thunderstorms that stretched into every evening. Tonight was no different. Several hours had gone by and nothing showed signs of the storm easing up. Clouds remained dark and your window was covered in drops of rain that sped down the glass. It wasn't that you hated the way the clouds lit up to reveal the purple hues. It was the way the thunder clapped unexpectedly that made you tense. It was deafening and not even the steady hums of your playlist could block out the sounds.

You had given up the idea of sleep and simply attempted to sleep between the duvet and pillows of your bed. Bunches of fabric were huddled near your chest and practically covered your face.

"Baby? I'm home!" Finally Matt had come home from his filming session that got cut early from the rain. They all agreed it would be better to continue when sounds of water and lightning didn't fill the mic.

He wasn't oblivious to the way thunder made you uneasy, he had seen you more than once feel uncomfortable and refuse to relax. Although never this bad.

Once he was met with silence, you heard him wonder around the house. It wasn't long before he creaked open the bedroom door. You could see the way his expression softened thanks to the bursts of light outside.

"Are you okay..?" The answer was obvious when he saw stray tears lingering on your cheeks. Rustling was quickly caused by the shaking of your head, not trusting your voice to not let you down.

He caught on your feelings instantly and slid under whatever duvet you hadn't bundled at your chest. You felt his body slide next to yours, the warmth welcoming. A sudden crash of thunder echoed through the room. Matt would be lying if he said it didn't feel good when you immediately reached out for him with closed eyes.

"You're okay baby.." Reassuring words slipped past his lips as he caressed your hair gently. "I got you."

༊*·˚ He always managed to slip your name into a conversation

Tara had thrown one of her iconic parties and as per Matt's request, you were by his side. Finally meeting some people you had dreamed of seeing for years, it was safe to say you were happy.

The whole night you were beaming alongside Matt and his friends. Dressed in a light silver dress that has small glitters embedded in the fabric, Matt could watch the way you shined forever.

"Hey baby? I'm gonna go with Nick and see Tara for a moment. I'll be back" It was hard to suppress a chuckle as his brother pretended to gag at the pet name. "Go ahead y/n."

With the lack of vibrant lighting, he easily lost you in the crowd but once he turned around he caught the eye of Jake. "Matt, didn't think you would turn up if imma be honest." His eyes took in his outfit, carefully put together. Laying on his wrist was a bracelet that caught his eye. "Woah, nice bling. How much was that?"

"Oh, I'm not sure, my girl got it for me a few weeks ago. She asked if I could wear it to match her dress tonight." A knowing smile crossed Jakes's face and a slight laughed escaped his lips. "Ahh is that so."

༊*·˚ He hates the way you think so low of yourself and would always defend against any negative thoughts you had

You had been shopping around stores on one of the rare days that Matt had no work on. You had been invited out to an event with your friends so it only seemed fitting to find a specialized outfit.

He was patiently sat outside the fitting rooms with the assortment of bags surrounding his feet. He saw a figure walk out and when he finally lifted his eyes, his jaw dropped. You were wrapped in a gorgeous red fabric that was cinched at the left side of your body. It had laid gently across your mid thigh.

You opened the curtain and revealed your outfit to Matt. "Woah.."

"I know, I'm not really a fan of it, I mean.." Your words trailed off as you looked down towards your stomach and hips.

"What are you on about? I'm obsessed with the way this looks on you, It looks even better when you feel that way too. This dress highlights your best features, baby. All of them."

You placed yourself in front of the mirror and tried to brush down any features you felt mildly uncomfortable with. Matt had come up behind you and placed his hands on your hip while resting his chin on to your bare shoulder.

"My pretty girl." He sighed into your neck and that was enough to pay for the dress with your Matt's card later.

༊*·˚ He would always pamper you whenever you felt unwell / on your period

It had been about an hour since Matt left your apartment. All you asked was that he pick up some chocolate to satiate your cravings, which had been an upset for the past six hours. The sharp pains in your stomach had only gotten worse, even after medication. Every time that Matt crossed your mind it only made you feel so needy, clingy. Like a burden.

Little did you know that Matt was rushing around several stores for more than your sweet treats. Any time you made a comment about something you liked, he made sure that you got it. A bouquet of your favourite flowers had ended in his basket, along with an assortment of treats, a candle with your preferred smells inside, a pink bath bomb and of course, Pads and tampons.

He hadn't meant to take so long but when you finally heard the front door of your apartment click open you were full of relief.

The gentle knocks on your bedroom door spurred you to sit up against the headboard, the hot water bottle across your midriff.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm back" His voice was meek, as if you had barely woken up.

"What took you so long, Matt? Did you get lost" A slight giggle passed your lips, met with a shake of Matt's head.

"No, baby. I just went on a little spree." That's when your jaw dropped. Finally, he pulled the bags from behind the door and placed them heavily at the end of your bed.

"So, at first, I was only going to get you the chocolates, but then I saw these Haribo's I remember you practically stole from me because they were 'too good to resist'." The bags of confectionary rustled on the blankets. "Then I saw this candle and it was blue, which grabbed my attention. Then I saw it was your favourite so of course I grabbed it. I had to get you pads and tampons. I know you alternate so I grabbed both kinds." A small pile began to form at your feet. "Oh! I also saw some fuzzy socks so they went in and i stopped at Lush to get you a bath bomb. They didn't have your normal one so i got a back up one for you!"

His gaze finally met your eyes, staring at the pile with tears forming. It was obvious you weren't blinking so that you didn't cry. You knew if you had tried to speak, your emotions would quickly be revealed. if they weren't already by your expression.

"Y/n..? You okay.. did i do something wrong..?" With an insistent shake of your head, you denied his words.

"You did all this for...me?" You looked up to him in mere disbelief. "Of course I did. I always will. I can tell you needed this."

"Matt...thank you.."

"You can thank me once I've run your bath, okay love?"

────────────────────˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗───────────────────

@melliflws @axolotllover225 @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerslover @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @sleepysturnss @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris

[hardlyinteresting]

To Have and To Hold

Jake Seresin x Reader

Jake comes home

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please), I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended) Word count: 1.8K

The floorboards creak with the weight of his footsteps still. there's a strange comfort in the sounds of this old house settling; the hum of the refrigerator downstairs, the quiet slide of his socks across wood floors. If he listens carefully, he can hear the whistle of the wind blowing past the window he meant to reseal all those months ago. The reminder of another missed task weighs heavy in his heart; a failure to provide a safe, warm home. It's the little things that matter most, his mama's voice reminds him, but it's the little things he so often misses-- always overlooked with the prayer that he won't be made a liar when he says he'll do it later. 

Time plays him for a fool. At 35 he rushes to make sure he meets the milestones he set out for himself, steadfast and resilient in his resolve to do more-- to be more. He breaks records, and sets precedents. But, he struggles to relax. Breathing doesn't come easy to him when it's not through his aviator's mask. In for seven, out for five. He counts the seconds of his inhales and exhales grounding himself in the moment. 

He does his best to hold tight to the moments he has here, But still, it never seems to be enough. like sand through an hourglass it all seems to slip away from him; these new found days of domestic bliss escape through his fingers like the memories of his childhood back in Texas. He wonders if one day he might be afforded the chance to pick up all the pieces and fit them together in some semblance of a “normal” life. He worries about his time away from home, what he's missed, and worse yet what he stands to miss if this life is taken from him too soon. 

Tonight marks the end of a six month separation, and tomorrow morning the count down to his next inevitable departure will begin. Always running out of time. It never used to bother him, it exhilarated him even, time blasting by in a blink of an eye. Back when he was younger, back when he had nothing to lose, and no idea what he stood to gain by sticking around. Now he worries about the quality of the lock on the front door, he thinks about restaining the floor downstairs and fixing up the kitchen. Domestic life snuck up on him. Slowly but surely his house became a home. Sun-baked bricks and weather-worn siding, with a shade of green paint he's been told matches his eyes. Four walls and roof that keep the outside world at bay. 

Down the hall in their bedroom, he Expects to find his wife sleeping, waiting in dreams for him to come home to her. It's the part of his job he struggles with the most now. It's so hard to leave this life they've built now that part of him is forever tethered to the earth. 

“I worry sometimes that I'm holding you back,” she confessed one night, “your job is hard enough as it is…I don't want to make it harder for you”. He hadn't been able to find the words to tell her how wrong she was.How could he describe the ways she had changed him? 

The need to return home to her never leaves him stunted in the sky, it fuels him. Long gone are the days where he fought just to be seen; she sees him. He's quick up there, tens of thousands of feet above the ground, he's calm and he's brilliant. His colleagues can call him cocky all they want, but his confidence is founded on his proven ability, and sometimes it's necessary to show off a little bit even if it's just so he can have another story to tell his sweetheart when he gets home. He imagines himself writing her name in the sky, carving her likeness in the clouds, a blazing trail racing home to her. 

So many of his earlier years had been spent playing the field too afraid to commit, too afraid to be loved. Adaptability, while necessary for his job, had never been his strong suit. A tiny part of him deep in the back of his mind always left the hair at the back of his neck on end when faced with change.

He had struggled in school, not academically, but socially and learned to over compensate to make up for his discomfort. The navy had given him the structure he had craved, a way to make his bed and fold his clothes, instructions that weren't open to interpretation. Living on his own allowed him to follow the same schedule and practices as he did on base.  In a split second, his life on the line, he never hesitates, but sustained change to his daily life left him nauseated. Welcoming another person into his life, and into his home had pushed him past the edges of where he believed his comfort laid, but forced him to confide in a support system outside of routine. 

Over the course of a few weeks her belongings joined his, sprinkled through out the house like a treasures to be found. Without a word she had taken care to intermix her books with the few of his own on the shelf, sorting them by alphabetical order just as he'd been doing for years. His anxiety slowly waned as his darling girl continued to prove she understood him better than anyone else ever had. 

“Do you prefer flying at dusk or dawn?” She had asked a few weeks after she moved in. curled up on their sofa, her head tucked under his chin, college football playing on the tv, she traced invisible shapes across his chest. “I don't have a preference, sweetheart. I just like flying,” his response felt half-baked, but it was the honest-to-good truth. 

“But if you had to pick?” she persisted. He weighed his answer before giving it to her, “if I had to pick, it would be dusk. There’s a moment, if you're up at the right time where you can see the night sky blending into the sunset…the sky is a gray-blue and you can see the sun at the horizon and the little pinpricks of stars”. 

“It sounds beautiful,” her smile was soft and genuine when she cupped his cheek to make sure he was looking at her. A habit of hers, not letting him hide away from the softer parts of himself, she seemed to so easily pull out. “It is”.

That weekend he’d spent 72 hours on base and returned home on Monday evening to the faintest smell of fresh paint. In the low evening light, it took him a moment to figure it out, standing puzzled in the middle of the living room, still dressed in his service khakis trying to identify the source of the smell. “You’re home!” she’d grinned coming down the stairs, her jeans and t-shirt splattered with gray. It’s then he noticed with his darling girl looking so proud of herself, the walls of the living room coated in a soft heather blue-grey, no longer just a coat of contractor-grade white reflecting the shade of twilight through the windows. Flicking on the light he watched her grow nervous as he felt his brow furrow processing the unexpected change. “Do you like it?” she asked. 

“It’s perfect, baby,” he promised pulling her close and kissing her thoroughly, “It’s beautiful”. 

A few months later he came home from work to find his shower gel and shampoo had both been replaced by a new set. Confused and with no other option, he chose to use them, deciding he liked the smell of eucalyptus and mint much more than he'd liked sport: for men anyway. 

“Baby, what happened to my shower gel?” 

“You were complaining about how dry your skin has been”.

“Hmm,” the consideration to change his routine to better himself hadn't occurred to him before she moved in. 

More recently he'd come home from a night out with the squadron, and woken up under a Forest green duvet, a jarring difference to the burgundy plaid cover he'd owned for years. Momentary panic filled his chest. Like a sharp, sudden plunge into cold water he'd gasped his eyes scanning the room to confirm his location. The familiar scent of her perfume, the sound of the ocean breeze, assured him he was in fact in their room. In the dark when he'd come home, colour of the duvet hadn't been noticeable and he found himself mildly embarrassed by how badly it startled him. Her hand reaching out for him, stretching across the sheets to touch him lured him back to a flat position letting her snuggle herself right up against his side. It was then he noticed that the weight of the blanket was the same as before, and it was just as plush as it had always been. Her on going respect for his comfort continued to leave him floored. A memory of her texting him to ask his favourite colour (green) filled his mind and left him drifting back to sleep with a smile on his face. 

Secretly, he'd begun to look forward to the tiny changes she brought into his life and into the house. The littlest reminders of their strengthening bond, their lives stitching together in more tangible and visible ways. The Navy had taught him to think literally, latteral thinking developed and honed to reach conclusions and make decisions quickly and effectively, but the metaphor of their lives blending like the presence of her belongings along side his own, and freshly painted walls is not lost on him. 

Tonight the house is quiet as it often is when he returns so late. He knows if she knew what day he was set to come back home she would've done her best to stay awake for him, dozing off on the sofa with the living room curtains wide open, hoping to catch the sight of his headlights pulling into the driveway. It's thoughts of her safe and waiting for him that have pulled him through this latest deployment, so he does his best not to disturb her sleep as he makes his way to her. Like a silent sirens call an unspeakable force drags him through the house. His boots are left by the door, laces tucked in. His bag is heavy in his hand, more than just its physical weight tugging at him, and he's glad to be able to put it down by the bedroom door. 

“Welcome home,” she whispers stirring from her sleep as he slips beneath the sheets, freshly showered. 

[jintaka-hane]

@walmartmihawk!! I did it!!! My first request and I WAS SO EXCITED!! You have no idea how much fun it was writing this for you!

Ladies and gentlemen! Come get a ride with our favourite FIRST MATE!

A TRIP TO THE ONSEN

Masterlist

Img source / Img source

Summary: Your crew convinces you to join them for a relaxing trip to an onsen. When you arrive, you find out the women’s section is closed due to maintenance issues, and you're forced to use the men’s area as a mixed bath. What could possibly go wrong? Word Count: 2800 Notes: Beckman x f!Reader, forced proximity, nudity but not very explicit, Reader is shy, Beckman is a gentleman, Red haired pirates are assholes XD

As you stepped into the men's changing room, you seriously considered turning around and walking right back out the way you came. 

The place couldn’t be more different from the clean, orderly women’s changing area, with its wicker baskets arranged in perfect harmony on symmetrical shelves, and its pristinely rolled, white towels ready for use. No, the room you found yourself in—thanks to the sign that read, “due to a facilities issue, we kindly ask you to use the men’s pool as a shared space”—was a far cry from that. 

The clothing of the current occupants—your crew—was strewn across the room in a careless mess, distinguished only by loosely categorized piles according to ownership. Each pile was a disaster of wrinkled sashes, balled-up t-shirts, trousers with one leg inside out, and the inevitable final touch, a pair of used boxers, briefs, or trunks, perched proudly on top. You let out a heavy sigh, recognizing your captain’s floral trousers, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the first mate’s cloak.

Were you really prepared to share an enclosed space with your crew members, as they had been brought into the world? The answer was a resounding NO. But the thought of sinking your body, aching after so many nights sleeping in a hammock, into the soothing waters of the onsen was too tempting to resist. Besides, you had an infallible plan. Slip in quietly, draw no attention, and position yourself as far away from them as possible.

You wrapped the largest towel you could find around your naked body, then placed your hands on the swinging doors that led to the pool. With your eyes closed, you took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and pushed the doors open... only to come face-to-face with Yasopp’s ass as he sank into the steaming, shimmering waters.

The mere sight of the sniper’s bare backside left you blushing, so you marched forward in long strides, avoiding any eye contact, carefully stepping around the towels your crewmates had scattered along the wooden edge of the pool.

“Hey! You made it after all!” Shanks called out cheerfully, resting his forearms on the edge of the pool to get a better look at you. 

“Yes...” you mumbled, clutching tightly at your towel and rushing past him as quickly as you could. Beckman wasn’t far away and greeted you with a slight, elegant nod—a gesture you shyly returned.

When you reached the farthest side of the pool—and definitely not the prettiest, with a large pipe in plain sight on one of the walls—you sat down carefully on the edge making sure your towel wouldn’t betray you at the worst moment. You dipped your legs into the water and, with a calculated move, let the towel fall onto the wooden floor before quickly slipping into the pool.

The moment the mineral-rich water touched your skin, you felt relief and relaxation wash over your sore muscles. The water was soothingly hot, and the steam rising from its surface created an atmosphere of calm and tranquility. You dipped your head beneath the surface, letting the water soothe your face and scalp. As you emerged, ensuring the waterline reached at least your shoulders, you opened your eyes to find your entire crew staring at you. A flush crept up your cheeks as you became the center of attention, so you discreetly turned away, lifting your arms out of the water to rub them as if you were busy cleaning.

"Roo, stop staring at me," you shot, picking a random scapegoat as you felt all the men’s eyes glued to your bare back. Beckman was quick to react, giving the cook a good smack upside the head, splashing water on a few of the nearby crewmates.

“Ow!”

"Stop looking at her," his deep voice commanded, stern and reprimanding. "And you too," he added, smacking Limejuice on the back of the head too.

"Huh? Punch is doin' it too!" the long-haired blonde complained, pointing an accusing finger at his larger friend.

Shanks chuckled heartily and leaned in toward the first mate, speaking in a low voice, “Come on, Beck, give them a break. Don’t tell me you didn’t take a peek yourself.”

The first mate turned his back to you so you couldn’t see, then flashed a cheeky grin and mouthed, 'I did,' causing the rest of the crew to crack up.

For the next few minutes, they left you alone, allowing you to settle into the little haven of peace you’d created at the far corner of the pool. You focused on your own relaxation, letting the warmth of the water soothe your body.

“Oi” Yassop’s voice broke through the peaceful silence. “The owner said there’s a cold pool next door, and a bar close by. Who’s up for checkin’ it out?”

Everyone but Beckman nodded, and they began to climb out of the water, offering you the rather embarrassing sight of a row of bare backsides as they completely ignored the towels waiting for them. You dipped your head under the water again, staying submerged until they had all left, which they thankfully did quickly — as they always did when a bar was involved — sparing yourself from having to choose between a death of embarrassment or by drowning.

"How’re you doing, darlin’?" you heard the first mate’s warm, baritone voice the moment your head broke the surface of the water. His back was pressed against the side of the pool, arms casually draped over the edge, biceps flexing slightly as they rested there. You noticed how his broad shoulders lifted just a touch, the position making them strain. His wet, silver hair was tied back in a loose, low ponytail, and beads of water trickled down his neck, landing on his collarbone. You swallowed hard, silently grateful for the distance between you, knowing that your nerves wouldn’t handle being too close to him. 

“Fine,” you replied shyly, sliding into the water until it reached your chin. 

Beckman opened his mouth to say something more but then shut it, his sharp eyes narrowing as they shifted from your gaze to a point behind you. You heard the faint hiss of pressure behind you and turned to see the massive pipe protruding from the wall, vibrating slightly.

“Darlin’, something’s not right…”

“What—” you turned to find him looking at the pipe, his body tense and alert, the water now at his waist.

The pool’s swinging doors burst open, and the onsen’s owner rushed in, his face a mask of panic as his hands clutched his head. 

"THE PIIIIPE!!! It’s going to explode!!!" he shouted, clawing at his face. "You, the strong one!" his finger pointed at your shocked first mate. "Try to contain it until I can close the valve! The water’s extremely hot, and if it blows, you’ll be scalded!!"

And with that, he disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

Beckman, a competent man used to urgent commands, sprang into action without a second thought. He pushed off from the edge of the pool, water splashing everywhere as he vaulted out, and grabbed his towel with a gruff grunt to tie it in a loose knot around his waist. Then he raced toward the massive pipe just behind you, while you stared in shock, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, unable to react to the sight of the first mate sprinting toward you, half-naked.

When he reached the pipe, he felt it with his hands, locating the exact point where a joint was giving way, and pressed on it, straining with all his might to hold back the increasingly vibrating pipe.

“Shit, shit, shit…” he muttered to himself, bending slightly to apply more pressure with both hands. He lowered his head, mumbling incomprehensible words until a perfectly clear “FUCK” reached your ears.

“What? What’s going on, Becks?” From where you stood, all you could see was his wet back, taut with the effort. 

“Darlin’… I’m afraid I’m going to need your help here.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else. You always followed your first mate’s orders, no matter how peculiar or awkward the situation. So, putting aside your shyness, you scrambled out of the pool, knotted your towel tightly at your chest, and rushed to help him.

“Where do I need to press?” you asked as you moved closer, trying to ignore the striking muscles of his lower back peeking out from his towel.

“Right at my waist.” 

“What?”

“My towel…” he explained as calmly as he could, “it’s slipping, and I can’t let go of the pipe. You’ve got to hold it for me.”

“Okay,” you said, trying to hide your reluctance. You lifted one hand, extended your index finger, and pressed it against the towel on one side of his adonis belt.

“Darlin’, it’s slipping on the other side too…”

“...Okay,” you repeated as you robotically moved your other hand to the other side of his hip, your face so close to his back that your nose nearly brushed against his defined shoulder blades.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” you lifted your chin to fix your gaze on the ceiling.

You hadn’t been in that position long when you heard him curse again, his hips shifting under your hands, tense and nervous.

“I think there’s another loose joint,” his rough, deep voice said. “Let me check…” He crouched down, arching his wardrobe-like back, and you stepped back to avoid bumping into him. “Yeah, damn… there’s another leak. Darlin’, you’re gonna need to help me contain it.”

“How?” your voice quivered.

“Get in front of me, hold the pipe where I tell you with one hand, and keep my towel in place with the other.”

“Okay…”

You let go of one side of his towel and moved to his side, waiting for instructions. He looked at you with his eyes framed by those characteristic deep lines on his face, and with a nod, he motioned for you to tuck your head between his arms. You complied, wedging yourself between his massive body and the pipe, your back practically touching his chest.

“Right there,” he instructed with a tilt of his chin. 

You placed one hand where he directed, and pressed firmly.

“Now the towel.” 

Keeping an eye on the pipe, you awkwardly fumbled at the lower part of his abdomen, trying to find the edge of his towel. Not finding it easily, you turned towards him, coming face-to-chest again with his massive, muscular frame. Your cheeks flamed red as you felt his stomach tighten under your hands, your fingertips tracing the line of his happy trail until you finally found the towel.

Beckman knew you were a very shy person. He had tried to approach you several times, and you had always shied away. And at that moment, he felt an intense wave of guilt for putting you in such a compromising position. 

“Darlin’, I am so sorry ab—”

“—Beck,” you interrupted, noticing the pipe shaking and dripping dangerously from the other side. “I think I need to use my other hand to hold the pipe on that side too…”

He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Alright… do you think you can hold my towel with your knee?”

“... I-I’ll give it a try.”

You released his towel and turned so that your body faced his broad frame. Then, you extended your arm as far as you could to cover the new leak, successfully sealing the damage. Feeling proud that you had managed to control the situation, you lifted your leg—perhaps with a bit too much enthusiasm—toward the first mate’s groin.

“Hey,” he chided, jumping slightly in surprise at the speed of your approaching knee. “Just… be careful.”

“Sorry,” you slowed the movement of your knee, pressing it gently against the towel just below his navel.

Seconds stretched into eternity in that position. Beckman, in an attempt to be as polite as possible, turned his face away to give you some space, his elegant cheekbone exposed to you. You were so close that you could see the details of the X-shaped scar marking his temple, and your eyes traced the small beard adorning his chin. The situation was extremely uncomfortable and awkward, but you both were convinced that any moment now the onsen owner would come and tell you he had managed to close the valve.

But, of course, anything that can worsen, will. So, barely a couple of minutes had passed when you heard Beckman curse again, his body twisting and his arms trembling.

“Darlin'...” His gray eyes locked onto yours.

“Huh?” 

“The pipe... ah, damn,” he grunted, shaking his elbows frantically over you but still gripping the pipe. You noticed large beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. “It’s too hot. I—I can’t keep holding it. It’s burning my skin.”

Your lips parted in alarm. “What do we do, Beck?”

“I’ve got an idea… “ He cleared his throat a bit. "take my towel off, so I can use it between the pipe and my hands.”

“What?! No, Beck…” You felt your pulse quicken.

“Got a better idea?” he asked, his tone urgent but calm, his eyes flicking quickly to the knot of your towel at your chest. You followed his gaze, then looked back at him. 

“Oh, NO. No, no, no—”

“My towel, then,” he insisted.

You swallowed hard, and removing one hand from the pipe, you nervously traced the edge of the towel around his waist until you found a corner to tug on. Just before pulling it off, you muttered a clumsy, “Sorry,” which made him let out a genuine laugh that rumbled through his chest.

“Oh, I'd way rather have you see me naked than lose my hands, Doll”.

You forced a shy smile onto your lips and gave the towel a quick yank to pull it free, your eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Alright," he said with endless patience, "now you're gonna need to crouch down a bit to get it around my hands."

This time, the smile didn’t come. You simply gave a curt nod, squeezed your eyes shut, and crouched down to a compromising level, feeling him step back to give you space. You helped him protect his hands, then straightened up as fast as you could, extending your arm to cover the pipe again, avoiding letting your peripheral vision wander too far downward.

And so, there you were, standing directly in front of your bare and broad-shouldered first mate, arms outstretched, each hand firmly gripping a pipe. 

“Could be worse, you know…” Beckman grinned, trying to joke as he noticed the sweat beginning to form on your brow.

"How?" 

"We could be dealing with sewage."

You weren’t sure if you were about to faint or burst into a nervous, hysterical laugh. You didn’t get the chance to figure it out either, because at that moment, you felt the knot of your towel begin to loosen around your chest.

"Oh, Beck..." you groaned, your voice shaky and weak. "I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I—"

“What’s wrong, Darlin’?” His eyes darted between yours.

“My towel… the knot… I don’t know what to do, I-I can’t…” you said, tears threatening to spill over. 

Beckman couldn’t stand to see you suffering. As first mate, his duty was to protect and care for the entire crew. And the sight of your doe-like eyes, full of desperation, broke his huge heart. So, without asking for permission or thinking twice, he did the first—and only—thing that came to mind. He respectfully shut his eyes and buried his head into your cleavage with a low growl, gripping the knot of your towel with his teeth just as it was about to come undone.

You stood there, frozen, blinking several times as you tried to process what was happening. Your heart started thudding in your chest, and your blood rushed to your temples, your face turning a fiery deep red as you couldn’t contain your embarrassment. And just at that precise and convenient moment, you heard a group of familiar male voices cheerfully making their way into the onsen pool.

The doors swung open, and the room fell into a sepulchral silence.

'Seriously, guys? Here?' you heard someone whisper.

'Well, well, Beck…' you recognized the unmistakable, mocking voice of your captain, singing out with a teasing grin. 'Didn’t expect this from you. So you wanted her all to yourself, huh?'"

You felt Beckman grumble against your chest, and when you looked down, you saw that his ears were even redder than your own flushed cheeks, the contrast with his pearl earrings making them even more striking. Your shoulders began to shake involuntarily as you snorted out a wild, uncontrollable laugh, realizing that, for once in your life, you weren’t the most flushed person in the room.

..........................................................................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita <3

[city-of-ladies]

"I learn that the orphanage was created in part because illegitimate babies were being drowned in the Venetian canals. I learn that the girls of the the Ospedale della Pietà were allowed to play instruments usually reserved for men; that they earned money for their performances and rubbed shoulders with kings and queens. “What makes the Pietà so famous,” wrote the Prince of Saxony, Frederick Christian, after seeing them play in 1704, “is not just that all of the instrumentalists are truly excellent musicians, but … that all of the instruments are being played by females without any males in the ensemble at all.”

I discover that Vivaldi spent almost his entire career working at the Pietà and composed most of his pieces while there. But of the hundreds of girls and women who studied there, one name keeps rising to the surface: Anna Maria della Pietà. A prodigy violinist, she was Vivaldi’s favourite student. He composed many pieces just for her. It was in this experimental environment, with a plethora of talented female musicians to test ideas with, and Anna Maria by his side, that Vivaldi was able to perfect a whole new form of music: the concerto, most famously realised in his Four Seasons. 

I learn that several of the orphans at the Pietà were composers in their own right, in addition to many being copyists. In the study Women and Music, researchers Yves Bessieres and Patricia Niedzwiecki describe the Pietà as a “nursery for the virtuosos who provided Vivaldi with his ‘musical material’”. They cite a letter from a Pietà student called Lavinia and write, “[Lavinia’s] cantatas, concertos and various works had to be composed in secret and in imitation of Vivaldi’s style.” But Lavinia wanted to compose her own pieces too. “The music of others is like words addressed to me; I must answer and hear the sound of my own voice,” Lavinia wrote. “And the more I hear that voice, the more I realise that the songs and sounds which are mine are different … Woe betide me should they find out.”

I speak with another scholar, Vanessa Tonelli, a leading expert on the female musicians of Venice. Is it possible that these girls helped Vivaldi compose his works? “Anna Maria certainly designed her own solo cadenzas for Vivaldi’s concertos,” she tells me. She explains that some partbooks that belonged to the girl musicians still exist, and that there are examples within these of notes and solo lines scribbled into the margins. “Musicians often improvised cadenzas, ornamentations, and other solo lines, and they occasionally jotted down their ideas for these improvisations.”"

[onepiece-writting-forest]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4 - ʙᴏʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ

Summary: In the middle of exams and a diet of instant noodles, you decide to order some take out. What you did not expect was your delivery person to be a hot guy on a motorcycle, who, as fate would have it, happens to be a fellow student at your university.

chapter notes.: Penguin and Shachi being really interested in who Law had a study date with, and mentioning of Laws ex gf, also uncle Rosi mentions <3

tags.: One Piece, Trafalgar Law, Law x Reader, NSFW, slow burn romance (?), Modern AU, law has a motorcycle cuz its hot, Penguin and Shachi appearing as flat mates, Rosinante as the loving uncle, Laws crazy Ex,

[ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]

Law wanted to text you. He felt a bit guilty for leaving so abruptly without a proper goodbye. Maybe he could use the chance to apologize for his quick disappearance or, better yet, set up another study session. He had to admit, the last one had been surprisingly productive—way more than he’d expected. Your structured notes made it easier for him to memorize the material, and that wasn’t something that happened often.

Initially, he agreed to study with you because he was running out of time and figured someone who always seemed to be buried in their books could save him some effort. It might’ve sounded opportunistic—and honestly, it was. Sure, he enjoyed your company, but the main reason was to cram effectively. He wasn’t ready to admit, even to himself, that your presence actually helped him unwind, even for just a moment.

Still, he couldn't find the right time to message you. Walking home with Penguin, he didn't want to risk sending a text and having to deal with his teasing. Penguin already joked that their "study date" was more of an actual date, and that was already irritating enough. Even if it was something more, it wasn’t any of his business.

“By the way, those puns were terrible. Seriously, you’ve got to cut them, Peng,” Law muttered as he dropped onto the worn-out couch in their living room. Penguin already popping open a cold beer and handing one over to Law.

Before Penguin could defend himself, Shachi strolled out of the bathroom, a towel draped around his neck, his damp brown hair pushed back, still dripping slightly. He was already dressed in his usual comfortable clothes and hearing the conversation, he wanted to comment on Penguins thesis as well, which he also proof read for him.

"Yeah, Peng. You're supposed to impress your professor with your thesis, not make him cringe."

"Guys, come on, there's a strategy here!" Penguin held up his hands in mock defense, already sensing the incoming wave of criticism. He sat down next to Law and wanted to explain his…creative way of writing.

Both Law and Shachi exchanged suspicious looks but gave Penguin a chance to talk.

“My professor is basically a walking dad joke. I figured slipping in a couple of puns would make it more… relatable, you know?”

Shachi frowned, grabbing a beer before slumping onto the couch next to them. “Dude, it's an academic thesis, not open mic night. Are you sure that's the right call?”

Law was quiet for a second, considering it. Then he shrugged. "If your professor’s into that sort of thing, maybe toss one in... but just one. At the conclusion or something.”

“Are you seriously encouraging this?” Shachi raised his eyebrows, clearly in disbelief, especially coming from Law.

Law took a long sip from his beer, then shrugged again, nonchalant as ever. Maybe it was his exhausted mind talking nonsense, but honestly he didn’t really mind it if there was a reason. It didn’t sound stupid.

"Look, it's not like anyone else is gonna read it, and if the professor enjoys that kind of humor, why not? But, for the love of god, Penguin—just one pun. You’ve got way too many in there. It’s distracting."

Penguin sighed and leaned back against the couch, nodding. Law noticed his shift in demeanor—maybe constantly criticizing his work wasn’t the best idea. After all, Penguin had poured months into that thesis, combing through scientific papers, fitting them into his argument, all while completely neglecting his health and barely taking any breaks. Law knew that both his friends were sharp, even though they liked to goof around a lot. Law couldn't deny that. Penguin was knee-deep in marine biology, while Shachi tackled mechanical engineering. Both degrees demanded a lot from students, and Law had nothing but respect for their dedication.

“Besides the puns, it's a solid thesis,” Law said in his usual flat tone, reaching for the remote to turn on their small TV. It sat precariously on a makeshift shelf they’d salvaged from a dumpster. After a few minor repairs, it became somewhat usable.

They had agreed early on not to let their apartment turn into a disaster zone but also didn’t want to spend much money on new furniture. Despite that, the place had a cozy charm. Each of them had pitched in, decorating with random posters they’d stumbled upon, pictures of the group, or bits and pieces they’d brought from home. It was an unspoken rule to keep it reasonably clean. Sure, there were occasionally pots “soaking” in the sink for far too long, and maybe some breadcrumbs were left scattered on the floor, but overall, the place wasn’t a mess.

Hearing the first bit of positive feedback from Law, Penguin looked over, his eyes wide with surprise. “Really?”

Shachi also noticing that some positive feedback was probably more constructive than just criticism, he was ready to lift the mood, giving Penguin a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Yeah, man! It’s a great read. I’m sure you’ll ace it. Seriously, stop worrying.”

“Honestly, the only thing I found to fix were those puns, anything else was good.” Law added, propping his head in his hand, his attention still on the TV. That was probably the most support you could get out of Law, generally speaking but also considering how drained he was.

Penguin’s face lit up with a wide smile, finally relaxing into the couch. After all the stress, getting approval from Law and Shachi felt good. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot!“

That being said, a comfortable silence settled between the three young men, which Law was very eager to enjoy. To his dismay however, Penguin wasn’t one to just sit there in silence and spilled the beans out of nowhere, now shifting the attention to Law. „By the way, Law was out with a girl.”

Law’s eyes narrowed in an instant. “I take it back. Your thesis is shit.” He shot Penguin a death glare, knowing exactly where this was headed. Shachi perked up immediately, practically sliding over for the incoming gossip.

“Oh ho ho, really?” He wiggled his eyebrows, grinning like a kid with a secret. “Is she pretty?”

“Yeah, man! You should’ve seen her! The way she—”

“I swear, Penguin, I’ll rewrite your entire thesis with nothing but dad jokes and send it straight to your professor.”

“C’mon, Law!” Shachi joined in, unable to resist. “You never go out with anyone. Obviously, we’re curious!”

Law rolled his eyes, trying to shut out the teasing, but the smug grins from both Shachi and Penguin made it clear he wasn’t escaping this conversation easily. He took a long swig from his beer and let out a dramatic sigh. “We were just studying.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure," Shachi waved off the uninteresting part, leaning forward with a grin. "How’d you meet? At uni? In a lab?”

Law could tell Shachi wasn’t interested in hearing what they were studying. It had been years since Law had anything serious with someone, and even that had fizzled out quickly. His last real relationship, back at the start of university, had been a disaster—his ex was a little... unhinged, to say the least. Aside from that, there were the occasional one-night stands after parties, but nothing anyone would consider serious.

He hesitated, thinking of a way to dodge the subject. But he remembered how often his uncle, had told him to open up more, at least to Penguin and Shachi. They were practically his brothers, after all. Law knew these two could handle his closed-off nature—they’d been doing it for years. If anyone deserved a peek past his walls, it was them. Rosinante was right after all.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. “I met her during work.”

Penguin’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, while you were delivering food? How did you even end up meeting her like that?”

It was a fair question. Delivering food didn’t exactly lend itself to romantic meet-cutes, and Law wasn’t exactly Mr. Charisma when it came to flirting. It was hard to imagine how this had come about.

“Yep, brought her food,” Law replied, keeping it deliberately vague, the mischievous grin tugging at his lips. He knew that wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy them and was clearly enjoying dragging it out.

Penguin, not amused by the teasing, gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. “Oh, come on! You can’t just leave it at that!”

Law smirked, savoring the moment. He tried to play it cool, but his friends were too excited to let him brush it off. Sure, your company was comforting, you were smart, and yes, you were undeniably pretty—but Law barely knew you. He’d only met you once outside of that study session, and he wasn’t about to jump to conclusions.

“Yeah, last week or so, I brought her order and—,” Law began, leaning back into the couch, his voice steady.

“Oh, the night you had to work overtime and finish that other assignment?” Shachi asked, recalling how exhausted Law had looked when he got home. He’d been worried—those dark circles under Law’s eyes seemed to be getting worse every day. Shachi had been silently wondering if Law was pushing himself too close to a burnout.

Law nodded, taking another sip of his beer. “Yeah, that night. She brought me some water, and—”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of her!” Penguin interrupted with a grin, earning a sharp look from Law.

“Can I finish without you two chiming in every five seconds?” Law huffed, clearly not used to being in the spotlight like this.

“Sorry, sorry,” Penguin chuckled, leaning back and gesturing for Law to continue. He could barely contain his excitement, but he tried.

“Anyway, she asked why I looked so rushed, and turns out she’s doing meds too—studying for the same exam next week.” Law shrugged like it was no big deal. “She suggested we study together. Saved me some time to work with someone who’s ahead of me.”

Shachi and Penguin exchanged a glance, their eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Wait, hold up. She suggested it?” Shachi asked, eyes wide.

“Yup.” Law met their gaze, already anticipating where this was going.

Shachi and Penguin looked at each other again, clearly having an unspoken conversation, before turning back to Law, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement. They both leaned forward like parents about to explain the facts of life to their clueless child.

“Dude, she definitely has a thing for you,” Penguin said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Law just gave a casual shrug, as if it was no big deal. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean ‘nah’? She went out of her way to ask you to study with her,” Shachi insisted, looking at Law like he was the densest person on the planet. “People don’t do that for just anyone.”

Law’s expression remained unreadable. “She just wanted to study. We’re in the same degree. It's not that deep.”

Penguin shook his head, grinning. “Come on, man. She brings you water, chats you up, and then suggests a study date? You don’t see anything in that?”

Law sighed, trying to stay grounded. “She’s just being nice. I’m not reading into it.”

Shachi laughed, slapping his knee. “You’re hopeless. She’s into you, dude. Mark my words.”

Penguin nodded, clearly enjoying the teasing, while Law rolled his eyes again, though this time, a small grin tugged at his lips. His friends were hopeless romantics, always reading into every tiny gesture, convinced it meant someone was interested. Law, on the other hand, was the complete opposite—almost too oblivious to the idea that anyone could like him in a romantic way. He figured people didn't really go for someone as cold and closed-off as he was. Besides, he didn’t have time for a relationship.

“Remember when you were with Yuki?” Penguin chimed in, leaning back. “You didn’t think she liked you at first either.”

Law groaned. “Yeah… I wish she didn’t.”

Both Penguin and Shachi snickered, fully agreeing. Yuki had been... a handful, to say the least. Law’s brief relationship with her was still a running joke among the three of them.

She was also in meds, coming from the North as well and coincidentally from a neighbouring city. It wasn’t too far from Flevance. Back the Law was missing his home town quite a bit, Yuki had helped ease his homesickness with their shared experience from the North. Honestly she was really nice in the beginning, yet it started to spiral once things got serious. Even after Law ended the relationship, she wouldn’t leave him alone. It was a very unhealthy and obsessive relationship.

“She still texting you?” Shachi asked, making himself comfortable again as if bracing for the gossip.

Law shook his head. “Nope. Blocked her. But I’m pretty sure she’s still following me with a second account on Instagram.”

Shachi let out a dramatic sigh.

“Never stick peepee into crazy.”

At that, all three raised their bottles in unison. “Cheers,” they said together, clinking their bottles and taking a long drink. It was a victory toast—a reminder that Law had finally escaped the whirlwind that was his ex and her drama.

Just as Law was about to refocus on the TV, his phone buzzed. A new message. He casually pulled it out and glanced at the screen—it was from you. Unlocking his phone, he read the text from you. It was simple: a thank-you for today and a question about meeting up again for studying. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it caught his attention enough to make him put his beer aside and reply right away.

Of course, his friends noticed immediately. Penguin leaned in, trying to sneak a glance at Law’s phone. "Y/N… is that her?"

Shachi perked up again, sitting upright, all traces of his earlier relaxation gone. "Oh, oh, what’s she saying?"

Law sighed, turning his phone away from Penguin, who was getting a little too close for comfort. “Ever heard of privacy?” he muttered, giving them both a warning look.

Penguin exchanged a mischievous grin with Shachi. "She wants to meet up again, doesn’t she?"

Law groaned, clearly annoyed. "It's just for studying. Now leave me alone."

“You could invite her over—” Shachi started, the teasing tone back in his voice.

“Definitely not.“

The last thing he needed was his friends playing matchmaker or causing any more awkwardness.

“Fine, fine, you're no fun... but how about this?” Shachi persisted, undeterred by the warning glare from Law. His patience was already wearing thin, and he was starting to regret even mentioning you to his friends, but Shachi was never one to be easily intimidated.

Law sighed, letting him continue. There was no stopping Shachi when he was on a roll.

“Do whatever you want, study for your exam, but if she seems cool, maybe bring her to the party in two weeks?” Shachi suggested casually.

“What party? The one your engineering group is throwing?” Law asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that one. By the way, Ikkaku said she’d come too,” Shachi added quickly, his tone more genuine this time. He wasn't trying to push Law into anything, just offering an idea.

Law looked at him for a moment, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. It was a simple, friendly offer, not the usual teasing. Shachi knew Law had sworn off dating after Yuki‘s chaotic exit from his life, but he was just trying to help him see that not every connection had to be a disaster.

“Just think about it," Shachi continued. "Study with her, get to know her, and if things feel right, you can bring her along. It's not like you're signing up for a lifelong commitment.”

Penguin chimed in, grinning. “Yeah, man, no one's saying you have to get married. Just have a little fun, meet some people. Who knows?”

Law rolled his eyes but didn’t dismiss the idea outright. He was always packed with work and studying that socializing, let alone dating, had taken a backseat. The idea of bringing you to a party wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He could keep it casual, see where things went—no pressure, no expectations.

“We’ll see,” Law muttered, and took his beer back and leaned into the couch once more. He was glad the topic was over, and he could finally relax…even though you still ghosted around in his mind, especially after what his friends had told him.

Where you really interested?

…Nah, couldn’t be.

tag list: @mars-mizuko (Comment to be added 🖤)

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Howl I'm thinking about Nightmare's gang being a cult again.

Just how fucked up is it that Killer had to go through that twice? First with the Something New Player rewiring how his brain works entirely, while Chara meticulously breaks down his boundaries and reworking his identity until only they could decide who he is. Only for Nightmare to do exactly the same once Killer finally killed them.

And not only that, but now he has to watch as the same exact thing happens to others. And Stage 2 can push for apathy as much as they want to try and protect them from that crushing realization, but eventually it's gonna hit. Eventually Killer's brain is gonna let its thoughts wander in that direction because boredom is always gonna be the greatest threat for it. And then Killer will wish he'd never done that, because this whole time he's kinda been complicit in their indoctrination.

But, then again, by then he doesn't really know another way to live. He knows that once he broke free of Chara's very similar conditioning, but he doesn't have a concrete idea of what could come next. He doesn't know what life outside a cultish structure looks like and that makes the prospect of ever leaving terrifying.

I think Color coming in and showing him that there is a possible future out there for him is the saving grace he needed all along. And also the push he'll need to get the others out too. Because he's definitely not gonna let them leave for as long as he doesn't see an exit. Whether they hate him or not for it.

It is extremely fucked up. And that’s why I’ll keep saying that Something New is a psychological horror until someone eventually starts writing a fic about it. /lh

And the realization that hits is still very likely going to be tinged with that deep seated apathy that chara reinforced. I can’t see killer breaking out of his belief that he’s emotionless, that emotions are signs of being weak and that attachments are threats to his autonomy and independence, for many many years, with a lot of set backs, and I can’t see it happening when he’s under nightmare.

I don’t really think killer has broken free from chara’s conditioning—despite how much he’d like to claim he is free now that they’re dead. Because they cant be dead when their voice still rings in his mind, and their eyes still watch him everywhere he goes. A constant lurking shadow.

Chara never died, killer never escaped. they just became more elusive.

I think there’s still a lot going on in killer mind he doesn’t realize is conditioning, such as his belief in his emotionlessness. His kill or be killed, controlled or be controlled mentality. Even the reason why he turned on chara was still within the confines of what they taught him—the most determined decides fate, the strongest controls the weakest, and he had no need for them anymore. and so he will make them suffer.

with nightmare, i do think he wont even realize or care what’s happening to the others—because its just how things work. not until color comes along, showing him that things don’t have to be like that. before that, i can see killer helping only in ways that would benefit or amuse him, or whenever nightmare tells him to help someone—because he doesn’t think theyd ever willingly help him if it came down to it.

but if he realized somehow before color comes along—because he definitely wouldn’t take into consideration anything horror, murder, or cross have to say about it because they are apart of the weak/the controlled and they’re just struggling to realize that. it is inevitable, and it’s pointless to try and change it. or at least that’s his justification for avoiding any responsibility.

but i can see any attempts to “help” them being tainted by his worldview and what he’s been taught; such as teaching them how and when to avoid upsetting nightmare, teaching them the rules of the place, trying to teach them when to go to limp and stop resisting, how to learn how to enjoy the pain of themselves or of others. best ways to torture others, and how to “go away inside” if they truly can’t handle it.

and he definitely wouldn’t let them leave unless nightmare says so, which is unlikely. In his mind this place in castle can be learned and then eventually become predictable, they’d struggle outside of the castle because of who they are and what they do. that’s really the only kindness he knows how to give.

..i can definitely see spiting the Chara in his head for being a huge motivation for certain more “merciful” or “kinder” things. just to prove to himself they don’t have control over him anymore, and to spite them even beyond the grave.

{ @stellocchia }

[liveinfarbe]

Adar and Galadriel reminiscing about their Beleriand days…

These are clips from episode 4 and 7 of season 1. Notice the knife/dagger-parallel.

I've been researching the Silmarillion a little bit, because I think it gives hints about time and place in Adar's flashback account. This got lengthy. I write about the questionable Moriondor assumption by Galadriel and the esteem for flowers, blossoms, willows, glades in the lives of Galadriel and Celeborn, in Beleriand and beyond, and a possible path for hope, forgiveness and growth after trauma, that would lie in a dark Celeborn meets dark Galadriel story: Adar informs Arondir that he's been young in Beleriand once and used to walk down the banks of the Sirion river for miles and miles. He noticed sage blossoms, apparently liked the view, because it left a lasting impression. What I get from this (given the cosmology of that world is actual history and not just mythical) is that it must've happened after the sun and the moon appeared and pulled Middle-Earth out of its darkness, or else there wouldn’t be miles of sage blossoming. It thrives in full sunlight. This puts the account at the end of the First Age, after the Years of the Trees. Interestingly, this is after the "creation" of the Orcs by Morgoth.

Whatever bond and similarity Adar has with the Uruks, he’s apparently not one of those Moriondor that Galadriel talked about to him. I assume the Moriondor concept reflects Tolkien’s idea (he had several) that elves were captured by Morgoth after their awakening in Cuiviénen under the starlight and before Oromë found them and then got corrupted and twisted and thus became the first Uruks. While Adar shares certain physical traits with them, he can’t be one of those first Uruks, because 1.) he lived far in the West, in Beleriand, 2.) the sun had risen, 3.) he’s lived among elves that spoke Sindarin and Quenya, since he speaks it too and not some Avari language, though he could've learned all that in Angband during idle hours, I don't know, he learned black speech too. Anyway, the first mentions of Orcs roaming Beleriand is in Y.T. (Years of the Trees) 1330, but Melkor (at this point in time he's not yet given the name Morgoth by Fëanor) is incarcerated in Valinor. Sauron is in Beleriand though, hiding out in Angband, waiting for Melkor's return, "breeding" Orcs apparently, because their numbers grow and they "roam" Beleriand. This is 200 Valian years before the sun. I'm no loremaster, but I know this is a long time. At this point and later, Adar is still, as he describes himself, young. So Orcs were breathing living creatures before that elf-man became Adar. "Young" I see as meaning before he got captured and tortured and then brainwashed by Sauron as part of the “13 of us” (ep. 2x2).

So something doesn't add up, and Adar implies that in his interaction with Arondir in ep. 1x4. Are the tales of Moriondor a widely spread myth created by Elves, since all accounts about Orcs mostly stem from Elvish chroniclers? Maybe this is what Adar hints at. He says to Arondir

“You have been told many lies. Some run so deep even the rocks and roots believe them. To untangle it all would all but require the creation of a new world.”

He thinks only gods can do that, and he ain’t one…yet. Unlike Morgoth who raised mountains, or other Valar whose wrath sank a whole landmass like Beleriand, and later Númenor. He's just doing what he must, realizing Morgoth's terraforming plan and resettling the Uruks so they can live freely.

The "many lies" that he mentions are reflected in the things that Galadriel - who’s famous as "the scourge of the Orcs", even in Númenor - says to him when she interrogates him in episode 1x6. She’s full of hate and delivers a truly genocidal speech to him that shocks herself in the aftermath. (She acknowledges that somewhat self-critically to Theo in ep. 1x7, and it might be one of the reasons she rejects Sauron's offer later)

The truth about Adar's origin story isn't yet revealed. I think it will be, because the writers put some effort in it, dropped cues and hints in excellent dialogue and made him a multilayered character. Finally, let’s come back to the flowers and blossom mentions in the clips above because they could very nicely tie back to Galadriel and Celeborn in Beleriand and beyond. Adar says he “went down that river once”. Let’s see, if he, for example, came from Doriath and went down the Sirion towards its mouth and saw a lush amount of flowers blossom, he could have come through a region called Nan-Tathren or Tarsarinan that is literally called Valley of the willows. Possibly the home to Galadriel’s “glades of flowers” she danced in.

Why would she dance there and not in Doriath? I don't know, but there's a clear hint that she was in that region and even made meaningful personal connections there. With Ents. And Celeborn, too. Tarsarinan, Valley of the willows, means something to the couple and Treebard, as mentioned in a passage in The Lord of the Rings. The memories of Celeborn, Galadriel and Treebard of that place are intimately entangled.

Then Treebeard said farewell to each of them in turn, and he bowed three times slowly and with great reverence to Celeborn and Galadriel. ‘It is long, long since we met by stock or by stone, A vanimar, vanimálion nostari!’ he said. 'It is sad that we should meet only thus at the ending. For the world is changing: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, and I smell it in the air. I do not think we shall meet again.' And Celeborn said: 'I do not know, Eldest.' But Galadriel said: 'Not in Middle-earth, nor until the lands that lie under the wave are lifted up again. Then in the willow-meads of Tasarinan we may meet in the Spring. Farewell!

“Many Partings” - The Return Of The King - LOTR - J.R.R. Tolkien

Okay… 1.) Treebard's “It is long, long since we met by stock or by stone” sounds a lot like Adar’s words to Arondir "even the rocks and the roots believe them", 2.) A vanimar, vanimálion nostari! is translated as "Oh, beautiful ones, parents of beautiful children"

That last point reminds of Adar's relationship to the Uruks and the rhetoric surrounding it: Adar whose name translates as "father" calls the Uruks "my children", "my sons and daughters", main difference is that they’re not that beautiful, neither is he — but that lies in the eye of the beholder. Does Adar imply the propaganda about Uruks is so pervading that even the eldest Ents believe them? Possibly his old friend Treebard… ?

I mean he's certainly wreaked havoc in the woods, forced the felling of trees, displaying not much respect for the Ents. On the other hand, Adar is shown planting Alfirin seeds, that grow into flowers. He's still very Elvish, full of respect and longing for "new life, in defiance of death".

Finally… Lothlórien, Galadriel and Celeborn's later safe space, is literally meaning "Lórien of the Blossom". Treebard calls it "Dreamflower".

With all that cherishing of flowers - I think even his chain mail shirt displays flowery ornaments - could Adar be Celeborn in a rather depressing and long-lasting dark phase of his life in ROP? Explaining where he’s been all that time since she last mocked him as a “silver clam”? And if he is not, wouldn’t that be a really good story if he was? Adar doing the work could be an arc about hope and the possibility of healing and changing — it’s what Galadriel needs, too, in the long run.

At this point she’s confused and hurting after the betrayal by Sauron, because she liked him more than anyone in ages, but also because she had to witness herself being unreliable and, frankly, unwise. Yes, she’s vindicated for having always been right about Sauron, but the way she went about it fills her with shame, it’s gnawing at her, not primarily because of wounded pride, I believe, but out of compassion for the victims of her actions. Not unlike Míriel after her return to Númenor. It begs the question to them both if it was all needless, if there really is a greater good in what's unfolding now? At this point in the narrative, the Númenorian intervention that Galadriel pressed for must feel like a Pyrrhic victory with grave consequences and implications for the future of Middle-Earth as well as Númenor. It has caused immense trouble and pain already to many other people that Galadriel gave Sauron a clap on the back and an army. She still has to fully confront herself about that, she's still vulnerable to the darkness inside her, because she's hurting. She has Elrond to help and guard her, but other than that, who's there for her? I mean, in the end she has to accept that it's not her who can slay Sauron, she needs to come to that understanding. It's a battle within herself she hasn't yet had the courage to take up because she still can't face her lingering grief at this point in any other way than turning it into anger.

[mythicalmaven]

PROMPTLIST [REQUESTS OPEN] | F1

masterlist

♥ I made a promplist in case people wanted to request something, but aren't sure what to :) ♥ Just let me know the numbers you've chosen, which driver(s) you want it to be about & if you want fluff or smut (or both) & I'll try to write it asap💕 (im open to write a lot of types of pairing, like f.e. f!reader, m!reader, driver x driver or maybe even a threesome or foursome, whatever you like)

♥which drivers can you request? lando norris, oscar piastri, daniel ricciardo, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, alex albon, george russell, pierre gasly, oliver bearman, franco colapinto, max verstappen, liam lawson, kimi antonelli, jack doohan

⬇️ Down here you can find a list with either fluff, smut, angsty prompts out of which you can choose (feel free to combine)

PROMPTLIST (smut&fluff)

"use my thigh"

"if you wanted to see me naked this bad, all you had to do was ask"

"like what you see?"

"don't be shy, touch me"

"keep your eyes on me, love"

"Can you be good for me?" 

"It's so hot when you talk like that." 

"if you keep looking at me like that, we won't make it to the bedroom"

"but what about the cameras?" - "they can't see us from this angle, if you stay still"

"you look su fucking hot right now"

"you have no idea what you do to me"

"do you wish it was *name* touching you right now?"

"you’re fucking soaked"

"Care to join me?"

"Do you like it when I talk like that?" 

“touch yourself, i want to watch"

"you can practice on me"

"fucking hell, if I knew you were this good, I would have gotten you on your knees earlier"

"Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants.."

"let them know you're mine"

"you want me, don't you?"

"don't make me say it"

"I..uh.." - "I have never done this before"

"We can take things slow if you want?"

"We don't have to have a label, if you don't want to"

"i didn't realize I was in love with you until it was too late to stop"

"okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?" 

"we shouldn't do this"

"Leave me alone." - "Don't say things you don't mean" 

"i don’t want anyone else."

"what does this make us?"

"Do you really think it’s so crazy to feel that way about me?"

"nobody can know about this, okay?"

"I think about you all the time."

"Are you blushing?! That’s adorable."

"you're so cute"

"So.. this is the part where we kiss, right?"

"I never thought you'd feel the same?"

"Did you just kiss me to shut me up?"

"I don’t want him/her. I want you."

"is that my shirt/hoodie/jacket?"

"My eyes are up here, babygirl:

"Jealous? Me? Pff.. absolutely not" - "Okay.. fine.. I am jealous. Happy now?"

"I'm not jealous, it's just that you belong to me"

"God, I am so in love with you"

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that"

"But.. I thought you said you didn't feel the same"

"For my sanity, i think we should start dating"

"Do you even need to ask?"

"I don't think I can explain it either, but yeah. Yeah, I do."

masterlist

[astrolotte]

Genuinely intrigued by the potential of Peri and Irep's dynamic but only in a platonic way so I end up not vibing with the fandom's portrayal of it 😔😔😔

(No but listen LISTEN they were kinda-almost-friends when we last saw them in FOP, yeah? Now they're enemies, with both actively fighting each other, and Irep going so far as to try and kill Peri's parents. What happened? When? What influenced it? Did they ever become friends, or did it nosedive the moment the cameras turned off? What about Sammy? How do Irep's parents factor into this? Could it ever be fixed? There's just so much we haven't seen, and romance just feels like too easy a solution to me. Let their friendship be easy to break, fragile. Let them have to work to keep the connection. Fairies and Anti-Fairies are literally made to be opposites, so what happens when two genuinely and truly become friends?)

((and yeah I guess a lot of this could factor into a romantic angle but ALAS the fandom seems to be leaning heavily into the funny toxic yaoi angle 😔 I don't mind it! By all means, please have your very harmless fun! But it ain't my jam :P Perhaps I'll have to write a oneshot myself...))

(((see tags for more rambles i guess. whoops a bitch spoke too much in there as he always does)))

[passthroughtime]

today i’m thinking about “different first meeting” kuwagami scenario where kuwana is acquainted with kaito beforehand, BUT not as friends, but as fuckbuddies at most. maybe, even just as a one night stand.

yagami comes to kaito’s apartment because he couldn’t reach him or something, and sees another new guy coming out of his shower; this isn’t news for him that kaito occasionally hooked up with random women and men alike, with preference in the former. yagami pays kuwana no mind and actively deflects any advances from him, thinking that kuwana sees him as another fuckbuddy of kaito. yagami doesn’t fuck around that much, and definitely isn’t in the mood to find somebody to stay the night with: they have an urgent case, and there isn’t any other thing on his mind at the moment.

while kuwana falls in love with yagami at the first sight. sure it’s weird to fall for a business partner of the guy he just fucked and isn’t going to remember for long. but, yagami is perfect, in some stupid way. kuwana says something dumb, gets rejected, and his hurting heart tells him he can’t let yagami go. he hasn’t felt this way about anyone in years.

so, he starts to hang around kaito much more frequently, they may even be called friends at some point. yagami thinks they are dating; this is the last thing kuwana wants him to think.

although, they click with each other pretty quickly; with all the annoyance, it’s fun to bicker with him, rarely being serious, picking on him and being picked on in turn. but it also frustrates yagami, because he sees that kuwana doesn’t really care about kaito (the amount he'd expect of the guy kaito is together with). while kuwana sees that yagami worries for kaito, and thinks that it’s in that way. once, he, heartbroken and losing hope, asks what yagami sees in kaito (as a possible romantic partner), but words it badly and is understood even worse. yagami falls out with kuwana, and they stop talking altogether.

yagami sulks and is very upset, because he thought they had something special going there, even if it was just a mutual interest, which wouldn’t turn into anything else. kuwana stops talking to kaito, explaining to him that it was because he couldn’t bear to be with yagami in one room when he hates him so much. his words kind of insinuate of kuwana’s feelings for yagami, but kaito doesn’t catch the hint.

some time passes, and yagami and kaito talk about kuwana. yagami says that he regrets so much cutting kuwana off from his life. kaito remembers what kuwana said, tells it to yagami as word for word as he could remember, and though he doesn’t understand what’s wrong, yagami sees kuwana’s message clearly.

yagami can’t reach him by his number (it’s out of service), so he comes to his house in ijincho. he isn’t home, but yagami waits for him. approaching his house, kuwana sees him sitting on the steps and asks, “did you not cuss me enough?” and everything he says is openly antagonizing. yagami tries to talk to him calmly, but with time kuwana, unyielding, starts to piss him off. yagami says something along, “and here i thought you’d want me to apologize to you” and storms out the house with an intention to drink this anger away and come back.

kuwana isn’t able to stop him (when he tries, yagami punches him in the nose so hard kuwana sees stars, and it starts bleeding), but he finds him leaning on the railing in the nearby parking lot, with cheep beer in his hands. “you didn’t escape far. feeling guilty?”, kuwana asks, meaning his injury. “yes,” yagami answers, meaning the argument that lead them to stop talking with each other.

kuwana asks to share his beer with him, to which yagami complies, and jokes about them having an indirect kiss. “so childish,” yagami says, “we are long past the age of indirect kisses.” “do you want an ‘adult’ kiss?” kuwana jokingly asks, falling into their playful type of talking naturally. “yes,” yagami answers, and kuwana hears no ridicule in turn. he kisses him and tries to say that he wanted to kiss him for as long as they know each other.

“i knew that all this time,” yagami interrupts him, “but i didn’t want a kiss from somebody who isn’t serious about it.” after kuwana’s question of what has changed, yagami answers, “because now i also know you want more from me than this, or sex, or whatever. makes kissing you a lot less disgusting.” kuwana laughs, and yagami steals this sound with another kiss.

[coffee-at-annies]

what about your favourite player? :p

Jars Jars Jars Jars Jars.

Not to sound insane but he grinned and everything about him was perfect, and I fell in love instantly.

No but seriously I took one look at the eyebrows and the dimples and the baby face sometime circa 2017-2018 and knew that was it for me. That was the one for me. I always like to have a handful of favorites (my personal tier list) of which an important part is goalie, emotional support depth forward, and defenseman. Of my original 3 loves we traded Shears away twice, sold Big Rig back to Dallas for a corn chip I don’t actually remember I’m just bitter, and shoved Mouse Boy in the minors for like two years. It was a rough time.

In the last year or two I’ve done a lot of navel gazing between retirements (cully hags&horny 😭), trades (Shears, Big Rig, Teddy, Jakenbake 💔), free agency, and our old guys getting older that I can’t obfuscate around the fact that Jars is it for me. I love his stupid face, his curls, his perfect eyebrows, his dedication to saying nothing and pretending there isn’t a thought in his head, the fact that he won’t go shirtless in the locker room. Just all of it. I get cuteness aggression thinking about him. I spent so long thinking we weren’t going to re-sign him this time last year that I literally cried when we did and then again at the start of the season and again at the goalie goal and several other points — look I have a lot of intense emotions about Mouse Boy. Say what you want about his play or his injury history, whatever, I don’t care. You cannot change my mind. Mother, I love him.

There are other players I love — Flower and the Core exist in a niche in my heart I can’t quantify nor rank in terms of favorites. However, if I’ve got to be honest, I would probably sell most of the team to Satan for one corn chip if it meant keeping Jars around. I don’t know if I have it in me to follow him to another team but that’s the limit. Everything else is fair game.

[spaceratprodigy]

could i bother u for more thoughts on faith and max in a mock apple orchard 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

@gayafsatan — I would absolutely LOVE to brainstorm some fun ideas of them in a mock apple orchard!!

I've been replaying again so they've been rotating around in my mind a lot extra hard and was especially thinking about mock apple picking bc the botanical labs also has a lil orchard where you can pick mock apples up off the ground! But I'm currently in Roseway so oughhh.. ideas....

I want you now I am going to ramble a LOT so please bear with me I swearsies it'll be more fun if we get the full lore dump from my brain 😩💖💕

–

👇 ROSEWAY THOUGHTS 👇

(I AM GOING TO TALK ABT ROSEWAY THOUGHTS AS A WHOLE AND THEN EASE INTO SOME SILLY MOCK APPLE ORCHARD IDEAS AT THE END OKAY. OKAY ILY THANK YOU).

–

My thoughts are very chaotic and rambly so let me try to walk though my ideas lmao

Roseway is typically where I peg Faith's death wish arc happening, and to summarize what all that entails, it's when the mask slips and the weight of everything finally hits her in full force.

I always envision this story happening over a long period of time so a lot of time has passed since first arriving at Edgewater and the Groundbreaker.

Halcyon. Her situation. Her identity. The life Phineas threw her into abruptly and his expectations for her. Making split second moral decisions where no matter what someone is going to get hurt. Being so alien and alone, no one to understand her or believe in her predicament but having to be the mysterious competent captain regardless.

It finally gets to her. Bad. And she makes some self destructive decisions. She gets sloppy, careless, hoping someone else will end this nightmare for her. Until they almost do.

I am swiftly brushing past many details so we don't get too lost in the sauce. But Max went after her, found her collapsed and injured bad, carried her back to the ship for Ellie to do whatever she could, and then stayed by her side for as long as it took for her to wake up.

This is such a key moment for them getting closer. Because there was a lot of frustration and emotion and being forced to confront the possibility of feelings existing, but nothing they fully understand or are ready to acknowledge as such yet.

She tries to brush past the subject of what happened, deflecting everything until he raises his voice in a way he hasn't since she gave him the journal and she threatened he never talk like that to her again. And it was enough to break through her facade, for her to show just how utterly broken and vulnerable she is, and they have a proper fucking conversation about where she's at mentally. He still isn't ready for the truth about her life before. But it's a step forward.

There is a lot of patience and understanding and just. Yeah. A lot happens here. Some walls come down. There grows some room for them to become softer and closer over more time.

All of this is important because a short piece I had written a long time ago took place in this area roughly after this incident.

It was a personal outlet vent piece, I will be honest. When I wrote it it was after I had a very bad panic attack after an awful scare. And I wrote it into Faith because I just wanted to get some feelings from that experience out of my system.

The shortened version of that one is Faith recovering from a bad episode, trying to calm her breathing, waiting for her ears to stop ringing and for her vision to come back. Her legs gave out on her and she was sitting under the mock apple trees. Her voice locks up on her when she's seriously distressed. Yadda yadda yadda, Max had brought along his datapad so she could communicate anything important and she was incredibly confused because she knows he doesn't like using his datapad ever and then rendered even more speechless to know he brought it specifically for her in case something like this were to happen again. It ends with her just asking if he would keep talking to her, and they sit there under the mock apple trees for a while, in no particular rush to get anywhere.

And after this point, I think the mock apple orchards become a really peaceful, therapeutic spot for her when she just wants a moment to herself. Sits there, breathes, takes in the Roseway scenery and collects herself before jumping back into the horrors of Halcyon. Spends some time picking mock apples to take back to the ship.

I've been having a lot of ideas of her asking Max to go with her. I'm of the mind if she'd ask directly that he'd either decline, or at least pretend to be uninterested but she's the one who asked so he accepts the offer.

But I can see her being vague and just saying that she's heading out if he'd join her and she leads him to the orchards. By this point they're already often in each other's company, she indulges his interests often, letting him be the one who is finally listened to. But in general, they get along very well in conversation when it comes to a handful of similar interests and their personalities and attitudes bounce off of each other well.

(In my story anyway, since she spends an extended amount of time in Edgewater and the Vale, there was also a lot of time spent doing some early bonding with Max. So do with that info what you will. They're not likeee besties yet but they're much more than strangers by this point, ya'know? Just to get an idea of where their familiarity with each other is at and why there's enough respect and trust to some extent already existing. Not to mention how much time they had spent on the Groundbreaker).

They'd be having such a peaceful time away from the rest of the crew.

Oughhh hear me out, okay, Faith loves to bake. She doesn't even ask, she just makes Max hold her bag open while she starts collecting mock apples and after they finally head back to the ship she figures out how to make mock apple pie for the crew 😭 we already know Max doesn't care much for sweets (I wonder how sweet or tart a mock apple pie would be.. Faith girl what all Halcyon ingredients are you adding to that bad boy) but.. what if.... After everyone goes to bed...... He tries some anyway........ Because she made it..........

Most of what's bouncing around in my brain is them early on having wholesome bonding time in a spot just for the two of them. Just enjoying each other's company. Realizing they have genuine respect for each other, Faith feeling like she found a genuine friend who went to lengths further than anyone had in her entire life to make sure she survived. I am specifying Faith's feelings here intentionally. I write Max in a more complicated spot very blinded by his revenge scheme more or less unaware for a long while just how much the lines start blurring between his faith and his Faith. To put it succinctly. (Look I know I'm always drawing The Good Stuff™️ but in actuality their relationship is suchhhh a slow burn. They are not the most romantically inclined people lmao).

But also.. once she realizes she can talk to him when she needs to. I think coming back to this spot, off the ship, away from the crew, she just likes it there. She likes being there with him. She finds comfort in that spot.

OKAY BUT DO YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE WOULD BE CUTE.... they should come back here.. post-scylla and post-gorgon...... Ya'know......... The first being when they establish not wanting to be apart and the second being when they want to make that partnership a permanent one......... ASKING HER IN THE MOCK APPLE ORCHARDS WOULDN'T THAT BE DARLING ough okay I need a minute my brain is going too fast to comprehend

My Roseway ideas aren't the most cleaned up I know BUT so many important bonding moments exist and oughhhh LOOSE IDEAS ARE STILL WORTH TALKING ABOUT OKAYYYYY

I just want them to go mock apple picking together and learn how to get smiles out of each other and not understand why it makes their chests hurt but they know they need to do it again

ACTUALLYYYYY post-scylla when he's much more mellowed out and they're the closest they've been I think would be so so nice. they'd be so much softer and he'd probably be so much more involved in wanting to enjoy silly lil activities with her.....

Currently imagining him reading out loud to her, all the conversations they'd have, maybe he brings his tossball cards to show her, maybe they bring one of the lil games, have a lil makeshift picnic....

Godddd the transition between just how much enthusiasm he shows spending time with her is enough to make me explode. Can you see my vision. The reluctance, to the hesitancy, to becoming absolutely inseparable.

I HAVE A LOT TO THINK ABOUT BUT I'M GETTING SLEEPY SO SENDING IT!!!!!!

Literally feel free to add on or share your own thoughts I'm begging you lmao I promise there is so much room for ideas to be fleshed out and better put together, I'm mostly just spitballing what all I think would be incredibly fun ideas to work with. Plus I'm kind of thinking across the timeline and how much their relationship would change between each visit. And how over time they would enjoy it more and more and make each visit more special than the last.

WAIT BEFORE I LOSE THE THOUGHT!! They make a stop RIGHT BEFORE HEADING TO SCYLLA TO GO TO THE HERMIT'S LODGE!! Oh that could hurt so good omgggg. Okay okay I need to stop now I NEED TO STOP.

[suffarustuffaru]

i just. remembered again that i have a fembaru fic but also the premise is. Very Messed Up hah and also it was written before the canon genderbent au with its official genderbend names for everyone so its also outdated on top of that T^T i had like. Genderqueer subtext going on too. but i also wrote this fic like almost two years ago and havent touched it in forever so im unsure if i should go back to it…. o.o but i would love to finish it one day if only for my own satisfaction hah… i had a very detailed outline for ch 2 (its a twoshot) and several scenes written already anyway!! (and also i would probably update those names, make minor edits, etc etc hmm…)

[whysamwhy123]

HALLEJUAH!! I REMEMBERED HOW TO ACTUALLY FINISH WRITING SOMETHING FOR A CHANGE!!

Of course, it's not any of the fics I wanted to finish. I went back to what is essentially my bread-and-butter now and wrote a short-ish, random OrangeHook fluff. But considering how much writing's been a struggle as of late, I'm just glad that I successfully finished something. I was back in one of those stretches where I couldn't seem to write much of anything. And this fic isn't about their age difference or Hook being a cuddlebug, so...progress?

Unless I decide I completely hate it (which is always a possibility) expect something to drop on Valentine's Day, tis the season, after all.

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself