#if you filled it up then the pictures of boats would literally be on a sea of wine

[buckys-loverman]

picture perfect

warnings: smut, 18+ appropriate, degrading language, vulgar language

pairing: fem!reader x sarah cameron

a/n: literally cannot get dark! sarah out of my head so i’m forcing her on you guys instead (no complaining)!anyways, i did not proof read so enjoy ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡

“sarah!” you screamed as she pushed inside your slick pussy again, the 10 inch dildo she fisted in her hand striking repeatedly.

“what’s wrong, slut? i thought you liked big cock”, she laughed as you body slumped deeper into her mattress, your legs shaking as the restrains around your wrists become tighter and red with the friction.

never did you think you would be bend over sarah cameron's bed with your sundress bunched to your waist, as her pink dildo slid in and out of your folds with your cum decorating the tip.

"first you stole my best friend-" thrust, "then you stole my boyfriend!" thrust, "and now you try to sleep with my brother?!"

you admit - you haven't been the kindest to sarah since your falling out senior year of high school, but you never thought she would take it this far. you came over to the cameron's that day under the illusion rafe was texting you, but you didn't know he was out on the boat with his father and left his phone behind; but sarah did.

you made your way up the stairs as "rafe" instructed you to, when you were blindfolded from the back upon reaching the top. "rafe! what is this?" you giggled, until you heard a click and sarah's voice behind you, "surprise, bitch."

now here you were, your bare cunt puffy and exposed as you begin to reach your third organism. you didn't want to like it, the rough nature of it all, but when the blindfold was ripped off your head and you saw sarah holding a collection of toys... you new you were in deep trouble.

you tried holding back your moans at the beginning, you promise, but now you were one big babbling mess as her mouth was glued to your begging cunt and your nipples were hard to the touch.

sarah pulled away as a whine escaped your lips, "i knew you were a whore but jesus...you're fucking pathetic." her words were laced with venom but you didn't care, you just wanted to finish. it wasn't until she took out the dildo with a pop! that you grew irritated.

she walked away from you as you cried out, your body needing some form of release. you attempt to reach your cuffed hands down to your throbbing pussy, to relieve yourself when you hear a buckle.

you look up to see sarah adjusting her strap on, your eyes bulging out at the sight of her bare pussy making you wet. you attempt to close your legs as she makes her way to you, her underwear in one fist and her phone in another as fear begins to fill your senses.

"wait! sarah, don't-" you start as she shoves her underwear in your mouth, gagging you. before you can process what's going on, the flash of her camera blinds you.

sarah laughs on the other side, "smile-" she taunts, "you're on camera." in an instant you feel her dildo force its way back into your cunt, all thoughts escaping your mind once again.

all that is swirling in your mind is the way she roughly thrusts into you, how perfect of a curve her dildo has as it hits your sweet spot over and over and over again. you swirl your tongue against her underwear that is shoved deep in your mouth, how nasty you felt enjoying the wet patch she left behind. the pinch she held on your clit sent waves of arousal all over your body and you no longer cared she was recording for you were too cock drunk to care.

now you weren't the only one enjoying it, sarah loved looking at the way your tits bounced with each thrust - or the way you spread your own legs so she can hit deeper and harder each time. your sun kissed skin, your glistening eyes and the mascara now running down your face made it all too much for her. god, how long she had been waiting to destroy you under her touch, knowing you would soon come crawling back like the easy slut you were.

and now she had it all on video.

[sweeterlovers]

FAMILY TIME IS THE BEST TIME / FERNANDO ALONSO

fernando alonso x female!reader / SMAU FIC

WARNINGS / just a lot of fluff and family time! also sorry about the spanish it’s all google translated)

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fernandoalo_oficial posted on their story

[ shopping with mi sol [my sun]

yourusername how are mis amores doing? i miss you guys!! (my loves)

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yourusername posted on instagram

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yourusername at home with my loves ❤️

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username01 i love them!!!

username0076 my favourites!!!

fernandoalo_oficial mi hermosa esposa ❤️🤍 [my beautiful wife]

yourusername mi marido guapo 💗🤍 [my handsome husband]

username7 favorite couple on the grid 🙌🙌

username017 the hand placement in the last photo!!

username16 LITERALLY THOO ^^^

username1 ‘my beautiful wife’

username5 and ‘my handsome husband’ 😍

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fernandoalo_oficial boat day with mi hermosa esposa [my beautiful wife]

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username473 cuties

yourusername baby you used the same picture i used😔

fernandoalo_oficial lo siento mi amore [sorry my love]

username78 🤩🤩🤩

username14 i love husband fernando

username8 ME TOO

yourusername 🤍🤍🤍

username825 what i would do to be with them on a boat

username2 i would genuinely sell my kidney

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yourusername tiempo con mis bebes [time with my babies]

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username88 the dress is so pretty 🤩

username7 i love her vibe

lance_stroll they’re growing up so fast!!

yourusername i know!!! come visit soon 😄

fernandoalo_oficial come as soon as possible please! they won’t stop asking for their uncle lance 🙏

username723 STOPP they call him ‘uncle stroll’

username11 I KNOW! it’s so cute ☺️

username02 😍😍😍

fernandoalo_oficial mis hermosas niñas 😍❤️ [my beautiful girls]

yourusername mi marido guapo! aunque extrañan a su papá [my handsome husband! they are missing their dad though]

fernandoalo_oficial i miss you guys too 🤍🤍🤍

username73 my parents 🤭

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fernandoalo_oficial grateful for you my love ☺️🏆

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username7233 i need her hair routine ASAP!!

username_00 ME TOO!!!!!!

username7 when he spoils you>>>

yourusername forever grateful for you 💗💗

fernandoalo_oficial ❤️🏆

username00 IT COUPLE !!!!

username080 the wife/girlfriend effect is real

user072 IN LOVE WITH THEM 😍😍

yourusername my baby 🥰 🤭🤍

username7 they are THE standard

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yourusername posted on their story

[my love, my husband, and my best friend i love you so much. thank you for everything ❤️ i am forever grateful for you. there isn’t a day that goes by where i am not thinking about you ❤️‍🩹🏆🙌🤍]

fernandoalo_oficial oh mi dulce amore, there isn’t a day where you don’t fill my thoughts. no matter happens to us, i will forever cherish the night i put a ring on your finger. the day we met changed my life. 💗🥰 [oh my sweet love]

[harry-on-broadway]

Italian Sun

A/N: Felt inspired after yesterday’s pictures so here’s some unedited rambling. Enjoy!

***

It had only been a week, but you were already grappling with your new reality.

The reality of Harry being at home, at last.

Home, for now, was the Italian villa you all often decamped to when you had a few weeks off. He’d been making plans for the end of tour since the holidays and while specifics had changed, one thing had remained consistent: he wanted to spend time in Italy, relaxing and catching up with all of his family and friends he’d neglected for the past two years.

“Neglected? Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?” you teased when he first brought up the idea. “We’re literally driving home from your mother’s house.”

“You know what I mean,” he’d said, his face scrunching the way it did when he felt like his words were being misconstrued. “I’m just never around and when I am I feel like I’m so behind. Like…like I’m watching the season finale of a show I’ve never seen before. Everything’s different when I come back.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Oh?”

“It’s the little things. You cut your hair. You found a new coffee you like. You started listening to a new podcast. And I’ve missed it all.”

When he put it that way, your heart broke. He rarely complained, knowing that the life he was living was envied by many. But you felt for him, hearing how hard this was on him. “Well, start putting together a guest list. I guess we’re all going to Italy in July.”

Which is how you found yourself rooming with Harry’s closest friends and family in the week following the final show of Love on Tour, sharing meals, memories, and adventures with everyone. The extra glow coming off of Harry didn’t go unnoticed by you and you could feel happiness and contentment radiating off of him when he snuggled in close to you each night.

Today was the last day that everyone would be all together before the group started to head out, leaving you and Harry alone. He’d wanted the final day to be the best yet and had planned an itinerary filled with boating and sunbathing and, according to him, the best Italian dinner yet.

You had to give him credit. It was the best day yet. Games were played, naps were taken, and the picnic basket of cheeses, breads, and meats that Harry himself had packed was delicious. But the day also came with an added perk for you.

While almost everyone had donned swimwear for the occasion, displaying all sorts of skin, Harry took it to another level. His shirt was hanging precariously on his body, a single button keeping it from being blown away, and his swim trunks had been rolled up and pulled low on his hips (to avoid tan lines, he explained).

And the hat.

The fucking hat. A bright pink bucket cap, with the word ‘Daddy’ written across the front, that someone had thrown onstage in Australia. He’d said he picked it up as a joke, but the fact that he’d held onto it across countries and time zones, made you think otherwise. You saw how he carried himself with an extra hint of swagger when he wore it, and you hated to admit it, but something stirred inside of you when you caught a glance of him, hat and all, driving the boat with all of the ease of a seasoned pro. You prayed no one could tell how that scene affected you.

Now, with dinner on the horizon, you were trying to put those steamy thoughts out of your head and focus on what you should wear. You’d narrowed it down to two brightly colored dresses, when you felt two hands cover your eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Hmmmmm,” you pondered. “Could it be my boyfriend? You know, the guy who organized this magnificent trip after breaking records worldwide for the past couple of years?”

“He sounds like a catch.”

“He’s not that bad. He’s easy on the eyes.”

“Easy on the eyes, huh?” Harry moved his hands down to your hips and spun you around so you were facing him.

“Yeah, and he looks even better when he’s half-naked, driving a boat.”

“Mmmm.” Harry’s hands moved lower so that they were resting on the cleft of your ass. “Must have been pretty hot.”

“Oh, yeah, super sexy. I wish I could have jumped him right there. Especially in that hat.”

“Wait, what,” Harry laughed, breaking whatever character he’d been playing. “Are you serious?”

You shrugged. “What can I say, there’s something about that whole scene that really turned me on. And, sex on a boat sounds kind of fun. Shame we couldn’t try that out.” Harry swallowed, his throat bobbing as he processed what you said. “Harry?” you asked after a moment. “Are you still with me?”

“Yeah, I’m just trying to think why the fuck I thought it would be a good idea to invite everyone on this trip. I could’ve been having sex on a boat.”

“It’s not a boat but we can still have some fun,” you whispered, fingers delicately trailing down the exposed skin of his chest.

“Yeah?”

You nodded and Harry darted across the room to shut the door to your suite, trying to tear his shirt off at the same time. “Slow down, baby,” you said. “We’ve got time.”

Harry took a deep breath, calming himself as he nodded and opened his arms for you. His hands skated over your body, much of your skin already exposed thanks to your swimsuit, before they landed on your jaw, tipping your head back to bring your lips to his.

You felt heat course through your body at his slightest touch and were amazed that he was still able to elicit this reaction from you. You felt your nipples stiffen through the flimsy material of your swimsuit when Harry’s already sizable erection brushed against your thigh and you couldn’t stop thinking about feeling him inside of you.

“Bed, now,” Harry panted when he broke away from the kiss, and you backed up until you could feel the mattress behind your knees.

You fell backwards, bouncing slightly when you landed, and when you raised yourself up onto your elbows to find Harry, he had already dropped to the ground, his hands nimbly shimmying your swim bottoms down your legs. The garment discarded somewhere in the room, you felt Harry’s lips on your ankle, then up your calf, then at the inside of your knee. You knew what this was building too, but that didn’t stop you from letting out a gasp of surprise when his lips finally found your center.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, voice barely above a whisper for fear of alerting the rest of your party to what you were up to. You threw your head to the side, trying to muffle the sound of your pleasure with the pillow.

Theoretically, the two of you were due downstairs for dinner in roughly a half hour, but Harry showed no urgency as he slowly licked at your core, speeding up, then slowing down right as you were about to topple over the edge. It was hard to focus on anything but the feel of him between your legs. You reached down, hand moving blindly until your hands found purchase in his hair. The sensation of his soft curls between your fingers grounded you as you bucked up against his lips, wanting even more than he was already giving you.

“Is this good?” he asked.

All you could manage was a breathless moan as his fingers slid inside, easily undoing you. You opened your eyes and tried to catch your breath as Harry appeared over top of you licking his fingers clean with a satisfying pop. “That really turns me on,” you finally wheezed out.

“What? That?”

“No, the fact that you remember what works for me. It’s just something about the way you care for me. You always act like you don’t remember anything and you have no clue what’s happening, but that’s not true H. You always remember what matters.”

You could see something burning in Harry’s eyes as you said that, not quite desire, but something close. “I’m always going to care about you,” he said, the words laced with emotion. “Nothing is ever going to change that.”

“Show me,” you said.

He rolled on top of you in one easy motion, and you opened your legs, giving him space to settle in. He kissed you, furiously, but nowhere near enough. You needed to feel him all over you, every inch. Skin on skin, nothing between you.

“What the hell are these shorts still doing on you?” you whined, fingers digging into the fabric of his tiny trunks.

“I could say the same about this,” he all but grunted, struggling to undo the tie of your bathing suit top.

Free of obstructions, you all were able to lay together and take in the moment. You weren’t surprised when Harry buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling and savoring the moment. It was something he’d made a habit of doing in recent months, after noticing that you’d changed body wash in his absence. He was upset at first, saddened by yet another detail he’d missed, but after that, he’d started to take more time to observe and remember every little thing about you.

After a few seconds, you felt his lips on your neck as he kissed his way to your mouth, and you could feel him smile into the kiss.

“Got time for one more?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“Why stop there?”

“I think you might be overestimating my abilities, love.”

You pressed a kiss of your own to the spot right under his ear that you knew got him going. “You’ve never let me down, H.”

Without warning, he was inside you. He often paused upon entering you, giving you a moment to adjust and a moment for him to center himself. But today, he did no such thing, rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm. You made no effort to stop him either, tilting your hips up and pressing your heels into the small of his back to drive him further inside. The room was nearly silent, just the sound of your bodies moving in time broken by occasional panting, or the soft moans Harry stifled against your chest.

You glanced at him as he continued to drive into you. His eyes were shut tight and his forehead was wrinkled in concentration. It was the look he often wore when he was focused on not coming undone prematurely. Always the gentleman, he made every effort to ensure you were taken care of before he handled his own needs, but the rare occasions when he fell apart first drove you wild.

There was something so attractive about watching a man who was always in control, always looking out for others, come undone, something you’d once told him, earning an eye roll. You could tell he was nearing the edge as his thrusts became more frenzied and less rhythmic, while the wrinkles in his brow deepened.

You brought your lips to the shell of his ear, nipping at the skin, before soothing the bite with a kiss. “Let go,” you whispered in his ear. “For me.” You could feel his hesitation, so you played the ace you had been holding this whole time.

“Daddy.”

His whole body shuddered as he emptied inside of you, your orgasm following close behind. He collapsed, his entire body weight resting on top of you.

“Give me a sec,” he said. “I just—fuck.”

You chuckled lightly. “That good, baby?”

Harry shook his head in disbelief, as he lifted off the bed and padded to the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth. “Fucking amazing,” he muttered, as he moved to help you clean up. “Didn’t know that was uh, something you were into. You know, the daddy thing,” he added, trying to sound casual.

“Can’t say I am, but something about that hat just really got to me. Maybe something to think about in the future though?”

“For sure,” Harry said. “I mean, I’ve scheduled plenty of sex for us as part of this break.”

“So when do you leave again?” you teased.

Harry pinched your thigh lightly. “Not soon enough apparently.”

You leaned forward, grabbing him for a kiss. “It’s always too soon. But I’m happy to have you while I can.” You looked at the clock on the bedside table. “And I think all of your friends want to see you too, which means, we have to get ready. Now.”

“I’ll start the shower.”

“Harry!”

“What? It’s a time saver and a water saver.”

You rolled your eyes. “Remember, your friends will let us have it if we’re late.”

“Yeah, yeah. They’re getting a free vacation so they’ll keep quiet if they know what’s best for them.”

“Oooh, tough guy.” You grabbed your towel and headed to the bathroom, hearing Harry say something behind you. “What did you say?” you asked, turning around to find him standing there holding his hat from earlier in the day.

“I said I have to remember to send a thank you note,” he added quietly.

“To who?”

“Whoever threw that fucking hat on the stage. Never imagined it would get me laid.”

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Putting Roots In My Dreamland

Chapter Three of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: here’s the Jamie I promised :) another shoutout to @buckychristwrites for helping me out when my brain shuts down

When you wake up on Sunday, body sore and head aching and mouth dry, you vow to never drink again. You wonder what had possessed you to make plans for today when you knew exactly what your night was going to be like as soon as your locker room celebration started. At some point, everyone had made their way from Nelson Road to a club, and it was all downhill from there.

Luckily for you, Jamie was in the same boat as you and was hopefully regretting his decisions just as much as you were. Though, knowing how unfair the world is, you’re sure he feels fresh as a daisy right now. He’s probably been up for hours and had time to make himself some sort of healthy, superfood smoothie before doing an intense workout followed by a shower with a complex hair and skincare routine, because he was insufferable like that.

You, meanwhile, were wondering how you’re able to stand on your own, let alone play a full football match. You’re reminded of the creeping end of your career, coming much faster than it should, so you throw yourself into the shower just so you have something else to think about. The warm water soothes your muscles and your overactive brain until you’re actually looking forward to spending the day with Jamie.

The shower takes longer than it typically would, mainly due to how long you just stand under the stream of water without doing anything, simply letting the water wash over your body as you psych yourself up for the day ahead of you. It wasn’t that Jamie made you nervous, but spending time with new people, getting to know new friends, was always a little nerve inducing for you. You and Jamie had only spoken a handful of times and never for any longer than five minutes, so the thought of spending a whole day with just him made your stomach flip.

After spending far too long in the shower, you check your phone to see a message from Mackie, along with plenty of pictures. You groan as you scroll through them, confronting your decisions from the night before. They aren’t bad pictures, and you’re surprised at how good of a photographer Mackie is even though she had just as much to drink as you did.

In all of them, you look exuberantly happy, your mouth wide open in a grin or mid-laugh with a drink in one hand and the other slung around the shoulder of a teammate or one of the boys. You’ve been happy, but it’s been a while since you’ve seen it, since you were able to look at your own face and see the joy so clearly written on it. Even just looking back makes you smile, until you get a text from Jamie and your stomach fills with nerves.

He’s sent you an address, asking if you want to meet at a coffee shop around noon so he can show you around Richmond, and you don’t even remember giving him your number.

Can’t wait! You reply, even though you’d love nothing more than to wait and spend the rest of your day lounging in front of your TV and eating nothing but comfort foods. Instead, you finish getting ready before standing in front of your closet and taking far too long to settle on an outfit. You know you’ve already met and that you’ve literally tackled the man, but you still want to make a good first impression outside of Nelson Road, outside of whatever you said or did last night.

All you hope is that you didn’t embarrass yourself too much.

You decide to walk to the cafe, knowing the fresh air will help you calm your nerves more than driving on the confusing London streets would. To your shock, Jamie is already sitting there when you arrive with fifteen minutes to spare. Even from a distance, you can see the way he alternates between checking the time on his phone and pushing his hair out of his face, the headband he wears at Nelson Road nowhere to be seen.

When he finally spots you coming towards him, he launches himself out of his chair and rushes forward to meet you halfway. He’s wearing dark colored pants and a nice button-up instead of the matching tracksuit you’d been expecting and looks nowhere near as hungover as you feel. He looks like he’s been up since the sunrise and went on a run just because he wanted to, and it makes you momentarily hate him just a little until he smiles at you and you’re reminded that he’s really just a boy who happens to be a professional footballer.

Pleasantries are exchanged as you both take a seat, and you can’t help the way your eyes drift from the menu in your hands to his face, the way he’s pouting slightly as he thinks and pushes his hair away from his face in what you assume is a nervous habit, something to keep his hands busy. It’s endearing in a way that makes you want to stand and run and never leave your house again.

After the two of you order, the conversation stills and the silence becomes awkward and you have no idea what to say. It’s not like you can ask him about himself, because your guilty pleasure is trashy tabloids and you’ve read more of his interviews with well-known papers than you’d like to admit. Jamie doesn’t seem all that eager to break the silence either and there’s been a furrow in his brow since you sat down, so you take it upon yourself to get the ball rolling.

“Thanks for offering to show me around, I really appreciate it,” you say, setting down your utensils as you finish eating, “I feel like I haven’t done anything except train since I got here.” And really, you weren’t wrong; you’d gone to the grocery store and stopped at a coffee shop with Mackie after practice one day, but other than that you haven’t been anywhere except Nelson Road and your house, and you’ve already been in Richmond for more than a month.

“Yeah,” he nods along as you speak before he adds, “I’ve been here a lot longer than you and I still don’t really know Richmond that well.” You can’t help the confusion that clouds your face as the man who offered to show you around Richmond admits that he doesn’t know the area and Jamie notices immediately so he scrambles to add, “I know a lot of places! Just not everywhere, but I’ve got my favorites.”

It’s becoming more and more difficult not to smile when you’re around him, there’s just something about him that makes you feel so open in a way you haven’t experienced since you met Mackie. He’s attentive, listening to everything you have to say with his full attention, nodding along as you answer questions about your favorite things and what you miss from back home and how you’re liking London so far.

It’s obvious that he genuinely cares about your answers, that he wants to hear what you have to say, and you can’t remember the last time anyone paid attention to you like that and it makes your skin prickle in a way that isn’t completely unpleasant.

The two of you start your tour around Richmond, questions and stories being volleyed back and forth as you walk along the streets. Jamie contributes to your conversation and he answers all your questions openly, but it’s clear that he’d rather have the focus be on you and the majority of his contributions are nods and “mhm”s thrown in when appropriate.

You can’t help but to wonder if this is how he acts with everybody or if it’s just because you’ve really only just met or if he’s regretting offering to show you around Richmond. You always make it a point not to talk about yourself, wanting to keep the focus on anything other than you and your life, and even though you’re not spilling out your deepest darkest secrets, you still feel exposed in ways you hadn’t expected.

“I love all the girls, and the coaches, and Keeley and Rebecca are great,” you say after Jamie asks how you’re liking Richmond so far. You know that’s probably not what he meant by that question but you can’t fathom opening up to him any other way, definitely not in the middle of a Sunday in a public park while you’re still a little hungover.

The last person you’d really, truly opened up to, shared all your deepest fears and hopes and dreams with was Mackie, and you’d been friends for almost five years now. The idea of exposing yourself, of someone truly getting to know you made your skin crawl, despite how much you’re coming to enjoy being around Jamie.

“Yeah, Keeley’s awesome, she’s one of me best mates,” he replies and you’re glad that the conversation has shifted away from you and onto someone you’d much rather talk about.

Jamie’s tour ends up being less like a tour and more like the two of you aimlessly walking around Richmond with him vaguely pointing out restaurants and shops that he likes, but you don’t mind at all. It’s much nicer than you’d expected just to talk with Jamie, and you find yourself looking forward to spending more time with him while also feeling terrified of seeming childish if you were to ask him to hang out again.

Despite your football playing strategies, you’d never been one to be exceptionally forward or confident in your personal life, so even just the idea of spending a day with Jamie seemed unbelievable. Although, he really was nothing like you’d expected.

The Jamie you were spending time with was considerate and a little awkward and told awful jokes that you couldn’t help but laugh at, and the more time you spent with him the more relaxed you became. By the time you find yourself in front of your house, you’re debating whether or not you should lie and say it isn’t your place just so you can keep walking, and you can spend a little more time talking with Jamie.

“This is me,” you say instead, throwing an arm backwards to point at your front door, “I had a really nice time today, thanks for showing me around.” You try not to smile too wide, try not to seem like a child who’s overly excited about making a new friend even though on the inside you’re practically jumping up and down.

Once you’d gotten past the fact that you were talking with the Jamie Tartt, football star, you were really just overjoyed at the idea of finally having a friend that wasn’t just a teammate, someone who you’d need to see outside of training and who’d drag you out of your house to experience life.

“Yeah, of course,” Jamie responds, his hands hovering out in front of him before he settles them into his pockets, “we’ll have to do something again sometime.”

You can’t help but to smile at Jamie and how uncharacteristically shy he seems, but when he notices you smiling, he beams back at you. You say your goodbyes before heading inside, internally debating whether or not you should have asked if he wanted to come in.

——

As Jamie watches your front door close, he takes his first deep breath of the day. It seemed like he was held together by nothing but nerves all morning, and now that he’s heading home he can finally relax. He’d been so worried about saying something dumb that he’d barely talked, choosing instead to ask you question after question to keep the conversation on any topic except himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share with you, because he really did, he just couldn’t risk ruining what was shaping up to be a comfortable friendship with his own insecurities and fears. And, he could listen to you talk for hours and hours no matter what you were saying. You could read him the dictionary and he’d sit with rapt attention the entire time, overjoyed just to be near you.

He’d been worried he’d come off too strong and scare you away, but it seemed as if you enjoyed yourself as much as he did. He can’t help the little bubble of pride that fills his chest over the idea that you enjoyed a day he’d planned, enjoyed spending time with him enough to say you wanted to meet again soon.

You'd been so different from how you were at the Dog Track, than how you are on the pitch, but Jamie doesn’t mind at all. He wants to learn everything about you, all your quirks and fears and everything you love.

Being around you feels like being punched in the chest, and Jamie can’t remember ever feeling this way about anyone, not when he met Roy Kent for the first time or when he told Keeley he loved her, but he doesn’t mind. It’s a new feeling, and it scares him a little, but it’s not a bad feeling at all. It’s like he can’t breathe around you, but he’d rather struggle for breath than never see you again.

Ever since that moment when your eyes locked your first day at Nelson Road, Jamie hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. He remembers checking Instagram every morning and night until Keeley posted the women’s team roster and then he spent hours scrolling through your page.

At first, he’d felt like a creep, like he was intruding on something private even though your page was public and you’re a professional athlete. He was careful not to like any of your old photos, careful not to do anything that would send you a notification that he was spending hours scrolling down your profile.

There were photos of you and Mackie and the rest of the US Women’s Team, there were professional photos of you at events or at photo shoots for brand deals, there were action shots of you on the pitch, but his favorite photos were the ones you’d taken yourself, selfies and group photos and pictures of your travels.

If anyone was around, Jamie would have been beyond embarrassed when he realized he was smiling as he scrolled through your photos, taking in those little aspects of you that he hadn’t gotten the chance to experience yet in your minimal contact with each other. Even more embarrassing to him was the fact that he didn’t follow you for another week, needing time to work up the nerve as if it was outlandish that he’d follow you on your public account, as if all the other players on his team weren’t already following you.

He just loved getting to see the world, see Richmond and Nelson Road from your eyes.

There’s something about you that makes him want to learn everything about you, that makes him want to spend every moment of his free time with you, that makes him want to fall asleep and wake up next to you. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he knows some of his teammates are starting to pick up on it, Sam even going so far as to call him out on his starry-eyed staring.

All he hopes is that you don’t pick up on it.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @buckychristwrites @benedictscanvas @whimsical-roasting @sokkigarden @guccilongboard @onceuponaoneshot @presidential-facts @yepyeahuhhuh @loveslide @allthefandomtherapy @gibby31 @buddyjuststop @ellietartt @cancvr @brianandthemays @sonyume @aiyaiy @captainfrisbee @dalebo3 @theloud-yet-quietone @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @rockchickrebel @legobatmans9thab @curlypeter @lostinwonderland314 @yokolesbianism @jamietarttdodo @kno-way-home @fan-goddess @innocentbi-stander @skewedcherries

[mikeeel]

dear diary.. taehyun x fem!reader warnings: use of phones/cameras, blowjob, motor-boating, degrading, praise, idk what else icl minors dni or istg... better with dark mode :)

a/n: i can't stop thinking of tae reading your journal and there's a dedicated bit to you thinking of all the things he could do to you🫠🥴 deffo inspired by the invitation performance & sex with me by rihanna 🤭 not proofread.. sorry if there's any mistakes.

you are lying on your bed, hello kitty pen in hand as you scribble in your journal. biting your lips, you write more furiously, almost with a certain want? but your daydream is interrupted as your phone buzzes with a text from taehyun. tae 🤗  1 new message! hey, i'm here, can u open the door for me? x

you wipe your eyes as you climb out of bed to continue on to the door. until you realise, you look dead and you smell dead and your breathe smells like something dead. so you decide to open the door and text him back.

you: i literally feel like shit, so just wait for me in my bedroom while i take a shower and that. is that okay, taetae? i'll try not 2 b long xox || send^ tae 🤗 1 new message! yeah course, i'll be waiting for you x

you giggle at the x at the end of his message. he's not one to be affectionate, even though you've known him forever. it makes your heart skip a beat, thinking of if you two were together, what messages would he send you? you blush to yourself as you skip away into the shower.

taehyun opens the door and locks it as he comes in. he's been here a dozen times, but everytime it seems your apartment feels more like home everytime. it used to be covered with posters, making it feel like your apartment. but now, taehyun's added alterations. making it feel like you and his apartment. he likes the idea of living with you, maybe more than that. maybe the significance of sleeping in the same bed as you, letting you borrow his clothes.

he smiles to himself as he walks past a landscape photo of you and him on the sea of jeju-si, your bright smile as your hair flows in the picture, lips glossy and dress loose and summery. taehyun's slight smile, cap tilted up as you complained you wouldn't be able to see his face. the shirt you picked for him on, having a heart on the side with a cute smiley face you embroidered. you got it for his birthday. he opens the door to hear you in the shower in your en-suite. "y/n, i'm here!" he says, aiming to have a response from you. "okay tae! i'll be out in about half an hour, i have to do skincare and stuff!!" you excitedly exclaim. you always manage to make him smile with your bubbly personality, your eye smile, he just loves everything about you, even your innocence and how your eyes widen and brighten when you see a stray cat on the street and when you see cute stationery you drag him to come and buy it with you.

he walks around the room as he jumps on the bed. but he realises he lays on something of yours. it's a journal? it has a cinnamoroll, it's a teal kind of colour as he smiles knowing he bought this for you, the saniro pen in the binder. he opens it and sees your handwriting filling the pages. he continues to read the first page. dear diary,

he stops and chuckles under his breath. you made this your diary? that is just the cutest thing ever. he looks down again to read more. today, taehyun got me this journal. he's just so considerate. i love him sooo much! ♥ it's my favourite thing in the entire world. today we went to jeju, and took a picture near the beach. it almost felt like we were a couple, almost.. i want to be with him so bad but i don't want to ruin our friendship! i know he isn't fond of relationships so why would he change that for me? :( he frowns, the only reason he isn't fond of relationships is because he wants to be in a relationship with you. he was going to ask you out in jeju, but he felt as if it wasn't the right time. you had just broken up with your ex, sunwoo. you were torn, but he made sure you had fun at jeju so you could forget about it.

he's soo sweet. he comforted me through my breakup with sunwoo but honestly? i'm glad sunwoo broke up with me. i felt guilty for continuing a relationship i actually didn't want.. taehyun was always the one i wanted.

he gasped. he didn't realise you wanted him for so long. he skims through the book, smiling as he reads through your days in detail. although, he comes across a lack of pages. he looks towards the back as he sees a highlighted pink page headlined in cursive bold handwriting: everything taehyun could do to me 2023 edition ♥

he raises his eyebrows, what do you even mean by that? by god, he shouldn't let curiosity take its path. or maybe he should? fuck it, he turns over the page.

no1: he can bend me over a counter and fuck me until i collapse. backstory: he was cooking for me when i was ill and he didn't have a shirt on but he had an apron on. i wanted him to fuck me sooo bad in that :( ♥

ah. that's what you meant.

no2: he can fuck me in the backseat of his car and take pictures of him ruining me. backstory: we were on the way somewhere, i can't even remember where but he had his tank top on and he reached for something in the back but he couldn't reach all the way so he climbed in the back and got it. but WAIT this is the real kicker, he sat in the backseat, spread his legs and said, this is a real spacious backseat. FUCKKK ♥ And wait.. he took a picture of me from the back seat and was like 'You're so beautiful' I SCREAMED!!!!

no3: he can fuck me in his suit and tie. backstory: he was just wearing a fucking suit and tie??? like, he wasn't even doing anything sexy but existing. the way his muscles were flexing and his hands were veiny.. ughh fuckkk ..

no4: he can fuck me in a changing room using his fingers backstory: he just can :) no5: he can choke me and use me as his own fleshlight backstory: don't ask.... no6: he can overstim me so much i beg to cum on his cock backstory: his smirk, that's it... ghhh no7: he can make me grind on his thigh at dinner with his friends backstory: we were at dinner and my hands were touching his thigh. the way those shorts made his thighs look so muscular mmmh :( ♥

no8: he can cuff me to the bed and eat me out and make me suck him off backstory: he was drinking a daiquiri when we were out drinking. the drink made his lips look glossy and sossossosososo delicious to devour. i'm not sure where the cuff bit came from, maybe the need for him to peg me?.. yum.. ❀

no9: he can fuck me soooo hard and call me names and put his fingers in my mouth backstory: i'm not sure, probably my daydreaminggg :( no10: i need him to undress me, give me the baddest hickeys for everyone to know i'm his.. hmm.. and he can make me scream so loud that his whole dorm hears me, maybe finger me too backstory: i heard soobin and his girlfriend and i wanted that to be me and tae soooo bad.. her moans were pretty but i wonder if they'd be as pretty as mine?

he hears the door unlock while he looks up at you. you have your makeup done with a pink collared shirt and a miniskirt. you love skirts. your eyes widen as you see what he's holding. you run up to him and attempt to snatch the journal away from him, but he's just too fast and makes sure it's out of your reach. you start to cry and beg for him to give the notebook back to you. "please taehyun, please don't read it, please don't," you get on your knees and pull his trousers. your eyes glassy with tears as he just looks down on you with a demeaning look. "what's this, princess?" he says lowly, waving the notebook as you stop speaking, hiccups coming from you. "i'm sorry, i'm really sorry, please don't be mad," you hiccup as you lower your head on his legs.

"i'm not mad, i'm not even angry, my princess. you hear?" he says as he puts a finger under your chin and wipes your tears. you nod, as you stand up and wipe your face. "i'm just curious," taehyun says calmly, as you look up from the floor. "come sit next to me," he pats the space next to him as you tiptoe towards him and lower yourself down onto the bed. "i didn't realise you liked my hands so much sweetheart," he chuckles as he tucks a hair behind your ear. your heart skips a beat, he read the worst bit. you look away, looking at everything but him. he notices this and grabs your head as his eyes are dark. you gulp, getting nervous at the atmosphere, the tension. "erm, well i, i, uhm, i'm," you stumble over your words as you glance at his hands gripping your face, it makes you nervous.

"i've got an idea what we can do today. we can spend the day fulfilling all your wishes, so we're going back to the dorm. how does that sound?" he smiles warmly at you, full of evil intent covered with sweetness like a sour sweet. you nod as you get out of the bed and walk to taehyun's car.

you get in the car as taehyun slides his arm along the back of your seat, looking back as he reverses. you physically scream as that is the hottest thing a man can do. as he successfully reverses, his muscles flex and fingers tapping at the wheel and you rub your thighs together. you can't believe this is actually happening.. the kang taehyun wanting to fuck you how YOU wanted.. it doesn't seem real.

the silence could be cut with a knife as all is heard is the humming of taehyun and his car. you pull off to the side of the road, it seems quite deserted. you look around as the car stops and taehyun turns to look at you.

"how about we start with no2?" taehyun says while looking at you. you grip your skirt as you nod slowly. taehyun climbs in the back and spreads his legs as he looks at you. fuckin' hell. straight out of a novel. so, positively, you say 'fuck it', climb in the back and prepare for the best sex of your life from your best friend of 300 million years.

as soon as you climb in the backseat, his lips hit yours, roaming hands as neediness take over you both. taehyun's teeth bite your neck, leaving pigmented purple marks all over, making your eyes roll back all the way to your damn brain. you're basically brain-dead, like a zombie, except you don't want to eat brains, you want taehyun's dick inside you. you straddle him, as his head goes under your shirt and you silently praise yourself for being too lazy to wear a bra. he licks around the valley of your breast as you are sure he's motorboating your breast without any noises. you actually feel yourself about to combust.

"so pretty, you're my pretty princess, i love your breasts, i love them.." he mumbles and groans and breathes heavily. he seems as needy as you. "so good tae, tae, please please fuck me," you beg as you hold the back of his head as he slowly reappears from under your top. he looks at you like he wants to devour you and eat you up afterwards. he nods as unbuckles his belt, he unzips his trousers and pulls his boxers to his ankles. he tugs at your sweatshirt, as you pull it off. you assume he wants your skirt off too so you go to pull it down but he grabs your hands. "keep your skirt on," he whispers as he slowly moves your hand back to where it originally was. you gasp at the length he manages to have. no wonder he was a prodigy in university.

"i'll make you feel like this is your first," he heaves as he grabs your waist and holds the car door as you scream in lust. the ramming and pure animalistic rutting is enough to make you bust. he flips you on your front, pressing you against the car window, the visible shaking of the car and classic window fogging. it's everything you possibly imagined if not better. you could feel him inside you, sliding in and out at a perfect pace, his fucking handsome and pretty hand gripping your waist and the other holding your hands above you. moaning and whimpering can be heard as you're both contributing into the audio heard in the car. but all of a sudden he stops. you exhale loudly as you whimper at the loss of intercourse.

"i'm sorry princess, you look too pretty right now, ruined all for me. can i take a picture?" he says and you can't even believe that that is the thing that got you to cum. you moan out as your walls flutter and spasm around his cock and juices spluttering out. he obviously stops in surprise as you stutter and groan. "i, fuck, i don't mind, not at all.." your head turns to look at him.

the scene is purely pornographic. his cock still inside you, ass-cheeks red as ever. liquid between your thighs, dripping down. unruly hair, mascara running down your eyes from when you cried from the amount of pleasure taehyun provided. lipstick smudged from kissing as taehyun has lipstick remains on his lips too. your body is covered in hickeys and swollen, hooded eyes. he smiles as he gets his phone and you hear a camera click. no flash, all raw. you smile for the photo lazily as he chuckles and puts his phone down. you look up at him.

"i wanna make you cum, tae," you say as he twitches inside you, clearly trying to keep strong for you. you took note on how he watched your tits from behind slap your torso and back, and when straddling him, he couldn't keep his eyes off how they bounced. taehyun nodded, but he inhaled to ask a question.

"how, baby?" "with my tits," you innocently say as you turn around. you spread your legs provocatively and begin to fondle yourself. rubbing your nipples and kneading your skin. he can't keep his eyes off you. he couldn't be more excited. he doesn't like to admit he's perverted for you. how he looks at your nipples through babytees you wear, when your tits look exceptionally good in vests, when you hug him and your boobs squish against him when hugging his arm and when by accident when you guys were swimming, one of your boobs came free and he came from the thought of it again. he nodded so quickly, he couldn't control himself from how embarrassed he'll be after this. you lower your chest onto his pelvis, as you hold his shaft in between your breast. you spit onto yourself and start moving up and down, as taehyun rolls his head back and starts spewing your name like a broken record.

"y/n, oh my god, fuck, y/n, nobody can do it like you, holy fuck, oh yeah, feels so good, you're such a whore for me," he hastily says as he puts his hand on your cheek. you smile cutely as you lick his tip every time it comes up through your boobs. he grabs the door behind him as he mentally prepares for probably the best orgasm of his life. "y/n, i'm so close, please please, let me cum in your mouth," he begs as you move your boobs down and insert him in your mouth. he cries out your name and spasms and shakes, splashing a future generation in your mouth. you kitten lick his tip as you clearly swallow it all. but he's not finished, he cums another time, but less, on your face. you close your eyes and gasp in surprise. you slowly grab your phone and take a snap of your breast on taehyun and cum on your face, mentally reminding you to send it to him after you're done. you chuckle as you wipe your face off of any left-over semen. you grab your sweatshirt and lazily put it back on and help taehyun with his trousers and his top.

you both climb into the front of the car, unruly hair, marks all over you and red hot bodies. you smile to yourself as you think the day is done.

"before you ask, we're not done. we're on the way to the dorm. how do you fancy a little movie night with all their girlfriends?"

[amazingmsme]

Restless ‘Til We Reach Home

Anywhere I’d Follow You (ch. 1)

AN: happy underworld saga release day! Literally the day we’ve all been waiting for! This fic is my pride & joy rn so I hope y’all like it! Be sure to buckle in cause you’re in for one hell of a ride! The underworld saga is literally everything I could’ve imagined & more, & it makes this chapter hit so much harder. & I wouldn’t have it any other way 💗

Edit: omg I can’t believe I forgot to add the ghost!polites playlist that I so lovingly created! My sincere apologies to anyone who read it without the intended listening experience

Ch. 2 Ch. 3

Polites woke alone in the darkness. Or at least, he thought he was alone, until he felt a body shift next to him. The sky above was an inky black, completely devoid of stars. It didn't feel right.

He jolted upright, the ground underneath him rocking with his movement. No, it wasn't the ground, it was wood. He was on a small boat, and the bodies around him were his fellow soldiers. Most still remained unconscious.

"Odysseus!" he called out, but received no answer. "Eurylochus!" His voice echoed down the approaching canyon, bouncing back until it met his ears.

"Shhhh," a husky voice sounded from above. Polites startled and looked up, seeing a cloaked man standing at the back of the boat. His face was concealed by the hood pulled over its head, the only discernible feature being two bony hands peeking out from his sleeves. They clutched onto an oar, thrusting the boat further on its journey.

Polites crawled to the edge of the boat and leaned out, and he was greeted by perhaps the most beautiful sight. They were floating on a glowing river, the water a brilliant blue green. It was as he was staring into the ethereal water that he realized why the sky had no stars: they'd all fallen in the river.

The awestruck smile fell flat when he took a good look at his surroundings.

Everywhere he looked was gray and rocky and completely devoid of life. He heard people moaning in the distance and could see them trudging along in mindless huddles. Small fights broke out amongst them, and Polites could see fires burn in the distance.

He had to be dreaming, he was sure of it! He pinched his arm as hard as he could until he yelped from the pain. When he didn't wake up, he reached his hands into the water, splashing his face repeatedly.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up, wake up!" he yelled each time the cool water hit his skin. His vision blurred as the water dripped down his face and his eyes filled with tears. His shoulders shook as he sobbed, leaning over the edge of the boat. He could feel when they hit the shore, but he didn't budge, even as everyone else filed out.

The ripples around the boat began to calm, and soon enough the surface of the water was as smooth as glass. His eyes met his reflection and he jerked back, rocking the boat slightly. Hesitantly, he leaned back over the glowing water to get a closer look. Ripples sent minor shockwaves through his reflection, slowing until it showed a clear picture.

A choked gasp escaped his throat as he clamped a hand over his mouth. He looked up at the ferryman, who nodded solemnly. The tears he'd been holding back finally rolled down past his cheeks.

His head hung low as he cried, and he could feel each tear drip from his nose or chin. When he opened his eyes again, he saw tiny dots of red on his toga. Hesitantly, he reached up to wipe the tears from his face. When he pulled away, his hands were stained red.

He thrusted his hands in the water, scrubbing furiously to rid them of the blood. The stream before him turned a pale pink before the current carried it away.

Polites knew exactly where he was.

At first he tried to lay low, but he had always been outgoing and friendly, even to those who weren't so friendly back. But it quickly became clear that down here, no one wanted to talk to him. Or so it would seem.

Polites got into the habit of exploring the underworld every day. There was nothing to do but wander aimlessly or work, and Polites much preferred the former. It was while on one of these walks that he spotted a young woman kneeling by the riverbank. At first he thought nothing of it, but the closer he got, he could hear her quiet sobs and sniffles.

He approached cautiously, waving when he felt he was close enough to warrant a greeting. "Well hello there!" he said in a chipper voice, offering a shy grin. She looked up at the stranger before her, yelping and falling back onto her hands. He was quick to put her at ease.

"Hey hey, it's okay! I'm nice, I was just crushed by a cyclops," he explained his appearance, aiming for humor. The girl's lips twitched in a fleeting smile.

"Oh! Um, I'm sorry..." she apologized, and he waved a hand dismissively.

"Why? You have something to do with it?" he joked, smiling when she giggled, shaking her head.

"Noho..."

"Then you have nothing to apologize for!" He turned to her, holding his hand out to her. "I'm Polites." She studied him, chewing her lip before she accepted it.

"Eurydice."

"Ah, what a lovely name for a lovely woman," he complimented. Her smile was tainted with sadness. "I'm sorry, are you alright?" he asked gently. She shook her head, plastering on a fake smile.

"I'm in Hades, why wouldn't I be fine?" she tried to joke like he'd done moments before, but it fell flat.

"You know, if you need to get something off your chest, I'm all ears. I was practically the sole shoulder to cry on for 600 men." His tone made it impossible for Eurydice to discern whether or not he was being serious. Finally, she decided, "Yeah right."

"No really! Well, obviously not all of them took me up on my offer, but I'm a great listener," he offered with a warm, genuine smile. She let out an amused huff.

"I know it sounds stupid, but... I really thought I was gonna bust outta here." Polites placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I don't think it's stupid at all. I mean, we all want out-"

"No, you don't get it!" she spun around to face him, tears in her eyes. Polites held his hands up in surrender on reflex, his entire body tense. Eurydice heaved a sigh, burying her face in her hands. "I was so close..."

Polites was almost afraid to ask, but, "C-close to what?"

Eurydice looked up with wide, tearful eyes as she stared longingly out into the distance. She spoke breathily as her mind began to wander, "Freedom."

Polites couldn't believe what he was hearing. He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Wait, you mean you were trying to leave? How?" he asked desperately, the wounds on his face and body starting to bleed.

"I wasn't on my own. Orpheus came for me."

"Orpheus?" he questioned.

"I died on our wedding day..." she answered, trailing off as she stared at the ground. "And he risked everything to come save me. We could've made it out and we'd both be happy. Start a family..." she took a grounding breath, drying her eyes. "I never did get to hear how his song turned out."

Polites perked up slightly. "Oh, he's a musician?" he asked. She smiled as she remembered her love.

"Mhm. Said he was gonna write a song to fix what's wrong with the world," she said, amusement clear in her tone. "Guess he hasn't finished it yet."

"Well, sounds like he's got his work cut out for him. I can't imagine it'll be easy for him, without you," he said softly. A sob caught in Eurydice's throat as she looked away, closing her eyes softly.

"Don't. Please."

"Sorry," he immediately apologized, feeling rather guilty.

"It's fine. It's not like it's your fault or anything."

Polites looked at her, mouth slightly agape as he tried to decipher whether she was teasing him as he'd done earlier, or if it was sheer coincidence. The subtle twitch of her lips was all he needed to know. He barked out a laugh, bumping their shoulders together.

"Well would you look at that! Looks like someone's getting their sense of humor back!" he praised, making her roll her eyes.

"Never left," she lied. Her gaze locked on the Palace of Hades, and Polites followed her line of sight.

"He had something to do with it, didn't he?"

Eurydice took a shaky breath and nodded. "Yeah."

"They usually do. Even when you don't think so... They do."

~~~

Life in Hades is not what Polites expected.

For one, he didn't know where the crumbling rubble ended and the new scaffolding began. Every day it seemed, the underworld would change ever so slightly. Buildings and complex machinery were all being built before his very eyes. It was nothing like Polites had ever seen.

Slowly, copper and iron replaced stonework as buildings all but erected themselves, and horseless chariots carted material to various work sites. The grand palace in the center of the underworld has all but doubled in size in the short time he's been here. And jutting out from the southern east corner, stood an imposing factory spitting black smoke. It felt... wrong. Almost as if Hades had tried to tuck it away out of sight, only for his greed to force it to grow until the rocks could conceal it no longer.

He said he was doing this for them; that he was creating a greater home for their eternity. So then, why was he turning the air thick with smog? Why must the tortured souls carry the burden of his progress?

Nothing was right anymore. Then again, nothing had been right for a long time.

~~~

Polites never thought he'd grow used to the underworld, but with Eurydice, he found a flow. They steered clear of the mindless work convoys, with their bowl shaped helmets and tools in hand. They marched along packed gravel roads in uniform lines, singing in a low, menacing chant.

They didn't stray far from the riverbanks, and when they did, chose to walk through rolling fields of nothing but dead grass and dirt. They found solace in the few crumbling ruins that have yet to undergo renovations.

Shriveled vines choked out the grand archway the pair sat under, but not even the resilience of nature could last under a God's iron grip. Polites closed his eyes, trying to picture the lush foliage that swallowed the rubble of a once ancient building. When he opened his eyes, he was met with the disappointing reality of thick, dry vines sprawling over crumbling stone as if caught in a wooden spiderweb.

"You ever made a flower crown?"

The question came out of nowhere, catching him off guard. If asked, he would deny the way he had jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Um, n-no, I can't say I have."

When Polites didn't elaborate, Eurydice continued. "My sisters and I used to pick flowers in the meadow behind our house and we'd spend hours weaving crowns and necklaces while we talked." She smiled at the fond, distant memory. Polites smiled back.

"That sounds really lovely," he assured. He saw the longing in her eyes, could feel the ache in her heart. If only he could ease that pain...

"It was. I think you'd really like it. Heh, too bad I can't teach you."

"Yeah, that's too bad," he lamented in agreement before an idea struck him. "Or, you know... we could still try," he suggested, holding up a handful of dry vines and twigs. Eurydice's face lit up with a smile as bright as the sun.

"Really? You mean that?"

"Well, I mean, I'm sure yours turned out much better than whatever we can make down here, but-" his rambling was cut off when Eurydice slammed into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck in a grateful hug.

~~~

Polites had lost track of how long he'd been there, though he was grateful for Eurydice's company. It was the single source of comfort since he'd awoken in the underworld, the one reminder that there was once a time when things were good.

They would walk along the riverbanks, sharing stories from their lives. Eurydice once said that Orpheus would've liked Polites, and he swelled with pride. The feeling would've been mutual, he assured.

He can't help but to picture his friends meeting this lively young spirit, ripped from the Earth too soon. He thinks they'd like her too.

There were no days and nights here; everything ran together in one big screaming haze. At times, Polites thought they were the only souls down here who weren't screaming...

He missed being alive. He missed his friends, missed the way the sun warmed his skin, the way the sea would taste on the air, the way the wind would whip through his hair. He missed food, and feeling hungry, or tired. He missed the way he could feel his heart race in his chest when Odysseus would put himself in harms way, only to come out unscathed.

He always came out unscathed, no matter the challenge.

He was walking alone, trying to clear his head when he heard his name being called. "Polites! Polites!"

He turned to see Eurydice running towards him, feet pounding against the rocky shore. He met her halfway, picking up on her sense of urgency.

"Eurydice! Is everything alri-"

"There's a ship," she rushed out breathlessly. His eyes went wide and he scanned the horizon.

"Of course, the ferryman brings people-"

"No, I mean a real, living ship!" she emphasized with a playful punch to his shoulder. He smirked down at her, bumping their hips together.

"You know ships aren't really alive," he teased, tilting his head back to laugh at his own joke. She rolled her eyes, snatching the bandana from around his head. His hands flew up a second too late as he turned to face her. "Hey!"

She giggled, waving the bandana out of reach. "I'm being serious!" she insisted through a smile. He snorted, snatching the cloth from her grasp playfully.

"Yeah, that's why you stole my bandana," he taunted, shooting her a grin.

"You weren't listening! Just look!" she pointed in the distance. Polites looked up to humor her and gasped when he saw a large ship creeping up the river. It was much closer to them now. He took a step away from the bank.

Eurydice smirked, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "You believe me now?" He nodded wordlessly, mouth gaping open in shock.

They stood like that, just frozen in awe watching it get closer. The figures aboard the ship were now visible, and Polites shaded his eyes, squinting up at the deck. Did he really see what he thought he saw? Was that really...

"Steady as she goes men!" A figure paced around the deck, barking orders and securing the ship. Polites would know that voice anywhere.

"Odysseus?" he asked, barely aware he said the name aloud. Eurydice gasped and snapped her head to look at him.

"Odysseus? Like, like your Odysseus?" she asked frantically. Polites looked back at the ship for some other kind of proof, spotting Eurylochus at the wheel.

"Yes, I'm sure. Look, there's Eurylochus," he said, pointing at his friend.

She turned to him with an expression on her face that he hadn't seen since the day they first met.

"You have to go."

His head snapped down to look at her, "What?"

"They came here looking for you! I mean, why else would they come all the way here?" she asked, clutching to the fabric of his toga. "You're important to them, Polites. You're the missing piece, they need you," she pleaded.

The ship was right in front of them now, Odysseus clutching the rail of the ship with a horrified look. When his eyes landed on Polites, he froze, all the color quickly draining from his face. He turned away abruptly.

"I-I don't know Eurydice. That doesn't really seem like- I'm sure there's gotta be another reason!" He wasn't sure why or how they were here, but he had a hard time believing it would be for him. It would hurt too much, getting his hopes up like that.

"A reason to go through the underworld?" she asked incredulously. Her expression softened, and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "They've missed you."

A sob caught in his throat. "Yeah, I miss them too."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

He turned to her, tears in his eyes. "B-but what about you? You can't come, and I can't leave you!" he said, gripping onto her hands for dear life. "Y-you'd be alone again, I can't do that!"

"Shh, hey, hey, look at me," she said in a soothing voice, but Polites could see the tears shining in her eyes. "Don't think of it like that, okay? You're doing this for me." She squeezed his hands so hard, her knuckles were turning white. Funny, how even their spirits react like they still have blood.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, but a soft hand cupping his face brought him back to reality. "Hades only made sure I couldn't get out, just to spite our love. He won't notice if you escape, I promise," she reassured. He placed a hand atop hers, still shaking his head.

"You can't promise that-"

"Maybe, but I can try. Please Polites," she was practically begging at this point. "One of us has to see the sun again."

A sob shuttered through his body and he surged forward, grabbing her in a tight hug- their last hug. Maybe the last hug he'd ever be able to actually feel.

"I don't want to leave you," he muttered into her hair. He could feel her tears begin to fall down his arm like raindrops.

"Me either, but you have to. It's your only chance." She held on for a few more seconds before allowing herself to slip away.

"Goodbye Eurydice. Thank you for... everything."

"Farewell Polites. I know you'll keep them safe."

He nodded to her before turning towards the ship, marching along the shore. He got about halfway before her sweet voice called out to him.

"Polites, wait!" He stopped in his tracks, turning just in time to catch her in his arms. Her hands carded through thick black hair as she squeezed him tight. She kissed his cheek, pulling away to whisper in his ear, "If you ever come across Orpheus, please tell him I'm okay."

"Of course. You have my word," he promised.

When Eurydice pulled away, a small amount of blood was smeared on her lips and cheek. Polites decided not to dwell on what that meant.

~~~

Polites jogged along the riverbank until he caught back up with the ship. He waded into the water, trying to figure out how to get back on the ship. He saw a rope nearby and grabbed ahold, climbing up. The rope swayed with the ship as if it were weightless, making it more difficult to ascend.

The rope slapped against the side of the ship, sending Polites hurling through the hull of the ship and into the lower deck. His body tumbled and hit a few crates, causing them to come crashing down.

"Oh no no no!" he muttered, trying to restack them, only for his hands to phase right through.

On the deck above, Odysseus heard the commotion and ordered one of his men to investigate as he continued to warn the others to stay on guard.

He trudged below deck, not expecting what awaited him.

Polites yelped when he heard a clatter behind him, turning to see one of the soldiers standing in the doorway, his sword laying on the ground before him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the man turned on his heels and scrambled up the stairs.

"Captain!"

Odysseus immediately ran to the soldier's aid, hand on the hilt of his sword. "What was it?"

"I-it was Polites, Sir..."

The captain bristled at the name, turning his back on the man.

"Impossible."

"But I'm telling you, he was right there!"

Odysseus sighed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Listen to me, brother. This place is not to be trusted, okay? Nothing that you see or hear is to be trusted. Those were Circe's words. Got that?"

The man nodded, though he was clearly still shaken up. Odysseus sighed once more.

"Come on. Why don't you show me where he was," he said, deciding it might be a good idea to help put both their minds at ease.

Odysseus crept down the stairs carefully, eyes scanning the shadows for any intruders.

"Hello? Anyone down here?" He was met with silence. He didn't know how tense he was until his fears were put at ease. It was empty.

"The boxes must've fallen on their own, it's been a little bumpy. Let's go," he ordered, picking up the discarded sword and holding it out for the man to take.

Meanwhile, Polites was crouched behind a barrel on the upper deck, watching what few soldiers remained. They all looked so different, but none more than Odysseus. He watched as his friend marched up the stairs to resume his task of guiding the ship.

But... his directions didn't sound right. The way Odysseus was leading them would pass by two guardians, and more would surely die. Odysseus didn't know his way around here like he did, to no fault of his own. But Polites couldn't let that happen.

He made sure no one was looking when he crept from his hiding spot.

He stood behind Eurylochus, hesitant to speak. But the fork in the river was approaching.

"Actually, you're gonna wanna take a right," he said from behind. Eurylochus jumped at the unexpected voice, turning to face him. His face morphed in terror as he saw the man before him.

"CAPTA-mmm!"

"Shhh!" Polites shushed, slapping a hand over his friend's mouth. Eurylochus tried to shove him away, only for his hands to phase through his attacker's arm. His eyes were wide with fear as he fumbled for his sword, still trying to steer the ship through the narrow waterway. "It's me! You have to trust me!"

"I don't think so."

Polites turned to see the tip of a sword pointed at him, the eyes of Odysseus staring him down with a vengeance.

"Captain, I-"

"SHUT UP!" he yelled, taking a step closer. Polites let go of Eurylochus, shying away behind him. "Now who are you really?" he all but growled.

Polites furrowed his brow in confusion. "Do... do you not recognize me?" he asked weakly. Odysseus let out a low, sadistic chuckle, and it was hard to believe this was his beloved friend.

"Ohoho I know who you want us to think it is! But we've been through enough, I know a trap when I see one. So I'm only asking one more time." He pressed the blade to where his throat would be. "Who. Are. You."

"Odysseus, it really is me! W-why don't you believe me?" he asked helplessly, realizing his sword wasn't the only one trained towards him.

"Why should I?"

"B-because I'm trying to help you!" he insisted. There was a long stretch of silence before Odysseus answered.

"I don't believe you."

Odysseus reared back, preparing to strike. Polites panicked, he didn't know where else to go, where to hide. On instinct he clutched onto Eurylochus for protection.

He opened his eyes, and Eurylochus was gone. No, that wasn't right... he could still hear him. He sounded... scared.

"Captain... help me," his hand raised on its own towards Odysseus. No, that wasn't his hand...

The soldiers had cowered back when Polites disappeared; they were all clearly on edge.

"Eurylochus?" Odysseus asked carefully.

"He's here."

Polites had to speak up, he had to make them listen.

"Please, I'm just trying to help." He spoke with a double voice. "I know a better way. Please... you have to trust me. I'm- I'm not a god, or whatever you think I am," he pleaded. "I'm me."

Odysseus glared at him, lips curled in a sneer. A tense silence fell over them as the seconds ticked by.

"Fine." He stepped back and lowered his sword. "As you were." When no one moved, he repeated himself in a harsher tone. "As you were!" They immediately broke up and returned to their posts, keeping an eye on their new passenger.

"Are... you gonna stand there the whole time?" he asked carefully.

"Yup," Odysseus answered, popping the p. "Are you gonna hide the whole time?" he countered.

Polites took a breath to ground himself. By the Gods, it felt good to breathe again... But this wasn't his body. These weren't his lungs…

"That depends. Are you gonna pull your sword on me again?" he asked.

"Only if you try anything." That was as good an answer as any, he supposed. Polites sighed, stepping out of his friend's body.

Eurylochus gasped as he regained full control of his limbs. He lurched forward, using the steering wheel for support. He glared at the spectral intruder.

"What did you do to me?" he demanded. Polites held his hands up in surrender. "I-I don't know! I was scared, I panicked!"

Eurylochus glared down at him, getting in his personal space to get his point across. "Don't do it again." A gentle hand on his shoulder snapped him out of it.

"Eurylochus, why not get some rest? Feel free to use my quarters," Odysseus offered. Eurylochus nodded in thanks, but not once did he take his eyes off Polites.

Odysseus was steering now, his mind elsewhere as he thought of what the prophet Tiresias had foretold.

"There is a world where I help you get home, but that's not a world I know..."

"You're gonna want to hang left, there's some larger rocks.

"I see a man who gets to make it home alive, but it's no longer you."

"Captain?"

Odysseus didn't like who he was becoming, but each challenged left him more broken than the last, and the mosaic he was creating of himself was more of an abomination.

"Captain watch out!"

Odysseus shook himself out of it, cutting the wheel to avoid the boulders. Polites watched him carefully, waiting for his friend to thank him and smile like he used to.

That moment never came.

Polites crossed his arms and huffed, "You're welcome."

Odysseus clenched his jaw. The imposter's tone was light and teasing, and so much like the friend he knew. But the underworld was nothing but lies and deceit, danger lurking around every corner. He was sure the man before him was nothing more than a farce.

"Just stop pretending," he sighed in defeat.

"Come again?" Polites asked, cocking his head. Odysseus tensed at the disgusting cracking sound the movement made.

"Nothing. Just- no more talking until we're safe."

We. Polites smiled as he stood next to his friend, just like old times. It never occurred to him that he wasn't meant to be included in that statement.

"Okay Captain."

Polites remained by his side, offering directions whenever they're needed. He doesn't dare speak beyond that, knowing how testy his friend can be when he's trying to focus. Not to mention he seemed like he was in a bad mood to begin with.

He had no idea.

"Alright, it shouldn't be much farther. Just go straight through there," Polites guided, pointing towards a cave on the horizon. The smallest amount of sunlight shimmered through.

"Everyone! Full speed ahead!" Odysseus yelled across the ship, men scurrying about the deck.

Odysseus kept his eyes trained on their destination as he spoke. "Thank you... You can go now."

"Oh! Right, you're- you're busy. We can talk later," Polites said, backing away. "I should probably go apologize to Eurylochus." He turned to make his leave, but Odysseus stood guarding his path.

"Stay away from him," he threatened, face shrouded by long, matted hair and hidden behind a thick beard. His once warm gaze turned black as he trained his weapon at Polites for a second time.

If he were still alive, his heart would be pounding right out of his chest.

"Odysseus? You're scaring me," Polites said, looking him up and down.

"AND YOU'RE SCARING EVERYONE!" he screamed, surging forward. Polites is taller than him, even when he's not floating, but Odysseus's presence towers over him.

"Wha-what?" he breathed out, backing himself against the rail. Odysseus kept him trapped there for a few more seconds before turning away. Polites spared a glance and saw every pair of eyes resting solely on him, hushed whispers floating about as hands hovered over their own weapons. He looked back at his captain with wide, fearful eyes.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to..."

Odysseus ignored him, not so much as a glance his way. And that hurt.

"Odysseus?"

"Don't call me that," he snarled, finally looking over his shoulder. Polites couldn't help but snicker.

"Don't call you by your name? Okay, Captain," he teased, hoping to catch a glimpse of that brilliant smile.

"Knock it off! You're not as funny as you think you are," Odysseus snapped, making him pout.

"Ouch. You know, my new friend Eurydice thought I was hilarious. She-"

"I don't care."

Polites felt his phantom heart sink at those words. Odysseus had never spoken to him like that before...

"Oh. O-okay. I'll just, um, I'll go."

"Good riddance."

Polites tried to stifle the hurt gasp he let out, biting his quivering lip. He just wanted to disappear. He didn't want to be here, but he didn't know where to go. After a moment, Odysseus chanced a glance over his shoulder and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Finally. Thought he'd never leave." Polites felt tears well in his eyes despite his confusion. He was still here, what did he mean? He reached a hand up to rub his tired face, only to freeze. He couldn't see himself. To test his theory, he raced down to the middle of the deck and stood there, but no one paid him any mind. He got his wish. They got their wish.

He disappeared.

Polites felt himself sink through the floorboards, but didn't care enough to stop it before he plopped down below deck. He landed flat on his back, not bothering to get up. What would even be the point?

Finally, he sat up before drifting into a standing position.

~~~

Eurylochus couldn't sleep. How the hell did Odysseus expect him to rest after all that? His mind was reeling, and in all honesty, he was completely and utterly confused.

Trust nothing in the underworld.

Circe's instructions. More importantly, Captain's instructions. Up until now, he thought that was to be believed. Everything down here was a wicked and cruel trick. And yet, this vision of Polites had seemed so real. More than that, it felt real. He had no idea what it did to him, but in the moments he was possessed, he knew what it was thinking: what it was feeling. And it was scared, hurt and confused: like a wild animal backed into a corner. But nowhere could he feel any kind of ill will towards any of them. And that scared Eurylochus just as much as it perplexed him.

He gave up on sleep and decided to go back to the upper deck. He navigated the narrow halls and froze in his tracks when he came upon the transparent image of his fallen friend.

"Eurylochus!" Polites startled, standing up a little straighter when he noticed him.

Said man recoiled as he was addressed, and watched him with a careful eye, his hand hovering over his weapon.

"Please don't," he said, cowering back towards the shadows. "I just want to apologize for earlier. I-I didn't mean to do... that."

He was met with nothing but silence.

"Eurylochus? Say something," he pleaded. He noticed the way Eurylochus stared at the ground instead of him.

"You're not really him, are you?" he asked skeptically. Pilotes felt his shoulders sag in defeat.

"You too?"

Eurylochus dared to meet his gaze. The expression he wore was that of skepticism and a hope long lost.

"I'm not convinced yet." As he walked past, he paused at Polites's side. "So convince me."

His words caused a smile to break out across his face as he turned to his friend. Eurylochus looked shocked before his expression melted into something softer.

"That's a start, I guess." He abruptly continued on his way, not wanting to linger with their friend's spirit. Polites was left alone in the dark, his thoughts serving as his only company.

He didn't emerge from the lower deck until he was sure they were well out of the underworld.

[rainybubbles]

How do you meet One Piece Boys ?

Part 1- Marco, Mihawk, Izo, Sanji

Marco

-Try to get Ace some spicy food, and you get an explosion.

-That's how a fart can literally kill, I guess.

-But now there was a hole in the boat.

-The boat repairman was unavailable.

(his hair burnt, and his hands too)

-So Marco was here on the island trying to find a new boat repairman.

-He, firstly, found your boss who advised him to go towards you

(in fact he has a phobia of pineapples, but let's omit this detail)

-Marco presented himself, so do you

-That's how you two met.

-Yes, Marco would have not preferred that he met you because of Ace's fart.

-but he guess nothing in his life would one day be normal.

Izo

-A gun on your temple.

-Yeah, that's sounds more like how dying in 2 steps than "how-i-meet-my-boyfriend"

-Both of you were pirates, but not in the same crew.

-And your captain decided to fight against Whitebeard.

-That's how you ended up with a gun, asking yourself if the death was as pretty as this man.

-You didn't have the time to try to negociate that your captain screamed.

-Not like a "WE CAN DO THIS" thing.

-But more like "I ABANDON ALL OF YOU, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIGHT, AND I LIE AT ALL OF YOU, JUST TO STEAL MONEY" thing.

-Guess you're almost dead and ALONE now.

-Izo and Whitebeard's crew probably pitied your crew.

-They immediately stopped the fight and while some of the commanders were sent to find your old captain.

-Edward offered you to join his crew if you wanted to.

-He didn't have to finish his sentence that you were already saying yes.

-...guess the lipsticks and the guns get you.

-And will continue to do, because Izo was your commander.

Mihawk

-You suck at everything.

-(Me too bestie, but let's ignore this)

-And you thought that being volunteer in the marine could might help you in being more confident and skillful.

-You were wrong.

-You just did more push-ups and heard more screams with how useless you were.

-And your lieutenant thought it was a brilliant idea to exploit you to do the fatigues.

-Such as deliver letters to a Warlord in person.

-Let's not talk about how the Humandrills put you in a tree, laughing at you so loud that it troubled the calmness of a certain epeeist.

-Yeah.

-Mihawk's first meeting with you was in a tree.

-With you covered in mud.

-A letter in your mouth.

-And you confessing your sins thinking that was how you were dying.

-...maybe he needed to stop the wine.

Sanji

-You saw many diseases.

-Smallpox, Hanahaki, hell even the plague.

-But a nosebleed which fills a barrel and lets the patient unconscious only because of women.

-Maybe it was a sign for you to find a new job.

-You've tried discussing with his doctor who was in your surgery searching for some new blood bags.

-(He was out of stock)

-Chopper said it was better to experience it to understand it.

-So he let the blondie wake up with a picture of a woman in his hands...

-Damn.

-Guess your white wall would have to be repainted.

-Interested you asked if it was current and if you could observe and study this behaviour.

-After all it was really something new and could help to finish some of your essays.

-A weirdo with a nosebleed problem

-that's how you met.

Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language :( !

[katherinecrighton]

Nuts and Bolts: Thoughts on Plotting

(Reposting a 2013 post from the Anna Katherine co-tumblr)

Here, have some really straightforward, practical thoughts about plots and plotting. Of which I have way too many, btw.

(Previous nuts and bolts caveats apply, naturally. Assume I have so many thoughts about this stuff because I’ve fucked it up pretty often.)

::::

1. A short story is a single idea, examined or played out. (Movies are also short stories. This is why turning books into movies leads to tears.) Figure out what your “idea” is – or the goal of your story, or the point you’re trying to make, whichever terminology floats your boat – and aim toward that without wavering.

2. Your plot and your characters go hand in hand. They inform each other – if you have one, you have the other. It’s one of the ways that storytelling is the least like real life. The entire plot might as well be a metaphor for whatever issues are going on in the characters lives – but once you realize that, you can use that fact to reverse-engineer your characters or your plot if you’re stuck without one or the other.

3. Frequently problems with plots are just problems with structure. Go find your favorite book (or rather, your favorite book that is most like the kind of book that you’re trying to write) and break it down, section by section, until you’ve got something really basic like “meet-cute” and “things go bad” and shit like that. Then see if you can’t just drape your plot right on over that structure like a brand new Sunday suit.

4. It’s okay to borrow structures. It’s okay to borrow stories, for that matter. Plots can come from a lot of places. “Write what you know” clearly meant “steal every anecdote in England” to Chaucer, and he became the father of English literature, so. 

5. Middle sections of books are terrible. They just are. Everyone wants to give up. This is the number one reason to have an outline or at least a game plan, oh my god. You want to see some hope of a way out, because the middle of a book lasts twice as long as the end of infinity.

6. To that end, once I’ve got some characters and a vague idea of what I want to do with them, I like to put together a list of “adventures”. It’s just stuff I’d like them to do during the course of the story. Sex scenes, car chases, dress fittings, amusing adventures with food, anything like that. Just stuff that I think would be fun to write, and that I know I will need to fill the endless fucking wasteland of the middle of the book.

7. (Those adventures? Should reflect the issues of the characters. Because characters and plots are the same thing. See point 2.)

8. For short stories, have an end point to aim toward, along with a general emotional zone to wallow in. I had a short story whose working title was literally “and then somehow, making out,” which was indeed the end point I was aiming at. The emotional zone I wanted to stay in was fairly light with some emotional dips into heavy stuff for contrast. But mostly what it said on the tin.

9. For books, writing the last scene right at the start of your process is sometimes nice, because it gives you a sort of mark to aim for. (You can always rewrite it later.)

10. Try to capture some really vivid mental pictures of strong scenes. Add those to your “adventure” list, or, better, just write them down. It doesn’t have to be perfect – if you want, just bro it out like you’re describing your favorite badass robot move from Pacific Rim to someone who’s never seen it. At that point there are barely any characters, there’s just the broad sweeps of movement across the page.

+1. Remember: You are the god-king of the book. If worse comes to worst, have a plague of shrews suddenly appear and make your characters deal with it. You can do anything! If you don’t know what to do, do anything. It’s better than doing nothing, and frankly, if it doesn’t work, at least you’ll have written something. You can always delete it tomorrow.

+2. No, seriously, I was writing a book and I could tell there needed to be some kind of big turn in the narrative (because of structure!), and I couldn’t think of what, so I literally wrote down a list of random shit I could make happen to the characters. Just because I could. That list included:

set house on fire airplane explosion hunting accident heatstroke

I was willing to set a house on fire, possibly by having a plane explode on it, just to get my characters doing something for another twenty pages. And the best part was: All I had to do was write the consequences, and add some foreshadowing, and I’d get away scot-free. The perfect crime. GOD-KING, Y'ALL.

[darling-i-read-it]

The Mistress

Harry Gardner x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: smut (blowjob), cheating, sex in a public bathroom literally while his family is in the other room (who am i) 

Author’s Note: Hi love! Sorry this took so long! I feel like I went with the slightly creepy route straight into a bj lmao so I hope you like it. I don’t know how I feel lmaoo

Requested by anon, Happy to hear you're doing well, hun! I'm so excited to see your upcoming pieces because these most recent two are absolute gems 💗(I'm a big GTA and RE fan what can I saw I was overjoyed to see them 🤭)

Don't mind me with another Harry request (my sincere apologies, I'm obsessed 😌) I had this potentially spicy plot in mind - Harry x fem!reader. When he sees her being flirty with someone but cannot let his jealousy show since his wife is like RIGHT there. But still makes sure to let her know how much she upset him later on 😉 Take your time with this sweetie and if you don't feel like writing it that's totally ok too! 🤗 Thank you for gracing this site with your lovely works and making my day with them as well. Take care and have a wonderful day/night ~ Addie ❤

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Harry’s love for his wife was obligatory. The love he had for her was necessary, to keep their family going. He had created a space where he could comfortably do his job and be seen as successful. He had the wife, the house, and the kid. He had the room to grow and the means to do it. 

But you…you were not a want. You were a need. You were alluring in his worst times, gorgeous in his best. He could watch you move for hours and wonder what it was about you that entranced him. He could picture you from the bed as you slipped your clothes on and the memory filled his entire eyesight. He could see nothing else but you when you were there. 

You were like one of the people he wrote about. You were unreal. He couldn’t live without you now. 

“You’re starring,” your voice broke him from his thoughts. Sometimes he forgot you were actually there. You sat on the side of the bed, arms moving with grace down to your feet. You put your socks on, side eyeing him. “Everything alright?” 

“Uh huh.” He was in a shitty motel with sheets that he knew hadn’t been washed in far too long. 

“H?” You sat up straight. He grabbed your hand, shaking his head. 

“I’m fine,” he promised. You pursed your lips, nodding slowly. 

“You have to get back.” The time schedule he was on was brutal. Sometimes he wondered if the life he had was even worth all this. Couldn’t he just live here with you forever? The misery of his demonic child and his never ending wife seemed like a hell he had trapped himself in. When had he wanted that? “Henry.” 

“I’m here. I swear. I just don’t want to leave you.” Your face read the emotions he was feeling. You didn’t want to leave either but someone had to. If this thing was to be sustainable, you had to go. 

“I never thought I’d be here you know,” you muttered. Even your voice sounded melodic. “In bed with a married man. Jesus. What would my mother say?” He felt a pang of guilt but not for the person who he should’ve. He had put you in this position. You could’ve been living a life with a free man, someone to show you off to the world. Instead you were in shitty hotels by the ocean, the salt coming in through broken window frames. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You shook your head. 

“It’s alright. We’re in this boat together, hm?” He grabbed your hand and held it. The hand that had just been all over him, the hand that had felt every inch of his body. You must have been thinking about it too because you kissed him gently. A goodbye kiss. He wanted to curse, to beg you to stay. He didn’t. 

“I need to write you into a story,” he said against your lips. 

“Oh yeah? The girl who never got what she wanted?” 

“The girl who could get whatever she desired.” 

“That sounds better than my thing.” You smiled gently. “I’ll see you later?” He nodded, a promise he was sure to keep. He hoped he wouldn’t see you around town before that, for the sake of his life. For the sake of yours! You stood up. “I’m excited to read what you write me into. Hopefully a better situation than this.” 

You thought about the character of you and envied her. You would be her one day, you hoped. 

-

She was like fire if it never spread. Her silence was dangerous, the presence of her was terrifying. Electrifying was an understatement. She was the lightning that made electricity. She was the origin, the start, the very being that could bring down trees with a touch. She was-

“What’re you writing?” Doris’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. His initial reaction scared him a bit and he tried to be more caring. 

“Nothing. Nothing, I don’t think anyway.” He shut his computer. 

“Are we still going out to dinner?” 

“Yes. Yeah, sorry, time got away from me.” He got up from the chair. Doris was standing beside Alma who had her coat and shoes on already. She was giving Harry a look of disinterest, similar to her mothers. But Doris at least tried to cover it with a feign emotion, one he couldn’t grasp. “Coming.” 

They piled into the car and were quickly arriving at a small diner. The small diners in Provincetown were stereotypical and uninteresting. There was little local color and little locals. He saw you the second he walked in, like you had attracted his eyes like a magnet. You were sitting at the counter, a milkshake between your hands. Your hair fell in front of your eyes a bit as a smile played on your face. His eyes followed to the waiter you were speaking to. A man about your age, sharing your smile. The jealousy in him was surprising. He didn’t own you. 

But he wanted to. 

You hadn’t seen him yet. Maybe he could convince Doris to leave and go somewhere else. 

“Right here. You’re the newer family right? Big house on the water?” Their waitress said, gesturing to the table. Doris had been speaking and he hadn’t even noticed. 

“Yes ma’am,” Harry responded. 

“We don’t get lots of visitors here, except for the writers.”

“My husbands the writer,” Doris explained. At the mention of the topic, you turned your head ever so slightly. Your eyes locked for just a moment, zero panic in your face. It was like you didn’t even know him. You turned your head back to the waiter behind the counter. 

“What kinds of things do you write?” the waitress asked. 

“Screenplays.” “Anything I’ve seen?” 

“Not yet,” Doris promised. You were too distracting. He couldn’t stay here with you. His phone buzzed and he knew it was you. He checked it obsessively, turning it towards him so that Doris and Alma couldn’t see. 

I’m sorry, you texted. He didn’t answer. 

“Can I get you started with some waters?” 

His eyes flickered to you. Smiling at the waiter, a gentle comradery. It made him sick. 

“Yes please,” Doris said. She watched him and his discomfort but couldn’t find the source of it. The waitress left, leaving them alone, without a buffer between him and you. He opened up his phone again, staring at the message. You should leave. Why weren’t you leaving? “Everything okay?” 

He couldn’t hear what you were saying but he could see your hand brushing the waiters. Closer to your age, likely not married. Attainable. You could have something attainable. He glanced at Doris and nodded curtly. 

“I just need to go to the bathroom.” He got up, loudly. She scoffed, nodding. 

“Okay.” He pushed past you. Your eyes followed him as he turned the corner. You looked back at the waiter. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the little girls room.” You slid off the stool with a small smile and left your milkshake. You turned the corner and knocked on the men's bathroom door. It opened quickly. It was the type of bathroom that was private, without stalls. Just two rooms. 

Harry grabbed your hand and dragged you inside. He shut the door and locked it behind you. 

“I didn’t know you would be here,” you argued. He was standing so close to you, practically pining you to the door. 

“Who was that?” 

“Who was who?” 

“Don’t act coy,” he spat. You had never seen him so angry, jealousy practically dripping from his eyes. 

“The waiter? He’s a friend.” 

“That all?” “Harry, we can't do this right now. Your family is outside. Come on, we’ll talk later.” You made no movement. He starred, at you, at your features, the ones he could always find comfort in. He grabbed your wrist. “Harry?”

“Get on your knees.” 

You raised an eyebrow but the look in his eyes was too alluring to argue. He was usually gentle and guiding through sex, always careful with you even when he was rougher. You didn’t mind the demanding tone in his voice. You slinked down the door, onto your knees. You looked up at him. 

He was gazing down at you, his hand cupping your chin. You waited to see what he would do. Was he being so daring because his family was out there? Had you crossed a line neither of you had dared to verbalize? 

You put your hands on his waistband. He nodded, ushering you along. You undid his belt and fought with his jeans to pull them down. It didn’t take long for him to get hard at the adrenaline of the moment and you sitting before him. You pumped with your hand, staring up at him still. 

You wanted to tell him the waiter meant nothing. But actions spoke louder than words. You wrapped your lips around him, eyes locked, a glaze over his. He was staring at you like you were a meal. As you moved up and down, bobbing your head back and forth, he grabbed a fist full of your hair. He started to guide you more forcefully, a jealousy lacing his touch. 

You came up for air as minimally as you could. He lasted too long. His family was going to miss him. They would see your lone milkshake and wonder which of you would leave first. There weren’t enough people in this diner to not connect the dots. 

His precum was drooling down your chin. He wanted to fuck you. He knew he didn’t have time. Instead he let you make him cum, swallowing everything you could, making an erotic gagging noise as you did so. His moans came out muffled but clear, head tilted back in pleasure. 

You wiped your mouth, leaning your head against the door. 

“Feel better?” you asked. He scoffed. He helped you up, catching you as you stumbled. He kissed you, tasting himself among your lips. He could stay here with you forever and starve happily. “You go out first,” you muttered. “I’ve gotta wash up.” 

He nodded. He stared at you for a moment longer, brushing your hair out of your face. You locked eyes and the intimacy filled up the bathroom. You wanted to kiss him again but knew you had no time. You would have to let him go, just this once. 

“Thanks,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Anytime H.” You slithered away from him. “Pull your pants up and go back to your family.”

[yuri-is-online]

Popping in with another Tokyo Debunker theory, so sorry you have to deal with me but I literally have nowhere else to go with this ;;;

This theory really is more of a shot in the dark on vibes alone but I just saw the Janitor in ch3 and idk if it's same face syndrome but I felt he looked strangely similar to Dante? I don't know if it's just me, but anyways, for some reason I feel like he's the Ed that Rui keeps talking about (accidentally killing) and was wondering what if he's the one Alan killed and not Dante? Maybe Alan mistook him in the heat of the moment, could explain why he wasn't dead since Rui's dialogue implies they're able to bring him back to life somehow. There really isn't enough info on this but couldn't help but think about it.

Also how is Haru such a mom to the anomalous creatures and yet so shady at the same time (casually putting trackers on Ren? Picking locks? Hello??) and seeing that I have to agree I do think he might've transferred from Sinostra, it'd be a way to connect Jabberwock to the next arc possibly too

My dearest friend, I am not "putting up with you" I am receiving your lovely thoughts and adding some of my own. You can come here and chat, we can keep filling up the Tokyo Debunker tag together. I do apologize to my twsties though, I promise I am not abandoning you.

Rui seems fully convinced that his curse will kill anyone who touches him, especially MC but he is much more casual about how he talks about "Ed" to the point I am almost curious if he is talking about a person or a dog. I lean towards person because he complains about him leaving his socks everywhere and not him constantly stealing his, but him being the janitor is a good guess. Now as for Alan having mistaken him for Dante:

While they do look similar to me personally it is closer to the similarity between Hyde and Sho than it is them being identical:

Who are of course related, so it could just be that Dante and the Janitor are also related. It would add to the friendship between Dante and Hyde if they both have brothers enrolled in the school, Hyde really seems proud of Sho and clearly has bragged to Dante a lot. It would be funny if he does that because Dante is in the same boat. What I personally think is that, based off of the Janitor's hair color and cut, he is likely the dorm captain of Obscuary as pictured here in the loading screen:

The dorm leader has lighter tips to his hair just like the janitor and is familiar/comfortable enough to talk casually with Haru who is another dorm captain. If that's true then I do not think Alan, who would be very familiar with Ed, would have mistaken him for Dante. We also need to consider that Dante is in a wheelchair, I don't think someone who tries as hard to be respectful and accommodating as Alan would mix up someone who can walk and someone who is in a wheelchair, unless that is something new for Dante this year and he was able to function without it last year σ(￣、￣=)

When Haru declared lock picking as one of his special talents I almost died laughing he is SO SKETCHY. He is also trying to run a business, something that Sinostra also does and since Hyde is the advisor for both dorms I think transferring between them would be relatively easier than say, transferring from Hotarubi or Frostheim. Come to think of it both cases of transfers we have seen so far have been (potentially anyway, we don't have confirmation about Haru yet) between dorms who have the same advisor. Something that could explain why it seems easier in Tokyo Debunker than in Twisted Wonderland.

Oh back to Ed/the Janitor for a moment. Obscuary seems to be themed around death, and seems to run a bar that might be themed around vampires? Or just super goth in general. Either way I think his ability to come back to life might have something to do with his stigma and the way it interacts with Rui's curse, but we don't know enough about him to make a specific call just yet. I'll keep my eye out for more information and you are more than free to come here and talk about more of your theories, my anon friend.

[bard-llama]

NATLA Drabbles about Artist!Zuko

Read on AO3 here

One

The Avatar had always been a common subject for Zuko to draw – but even then, he would usually rotate through the various human hosts of the Avatar Spirit. But lately, ever since he’d actually found the Avatar, all he seemed to be able to draw was Aang. He’d start out intentionally planning to draw something else – but before he knew it, his fingers would absentmindedly add Aang to the canvas. It was getting to the point of ridiculousness.  With a heavy sigh, Zuko resigned himself to filling in the details of the forest scene that Aang had once again crashed.

Two

Zuko’s preferred medium was an ink brush – but he could admit that occasionally, painting could be fun. Usually he’d go for acrylics, but for whatever reason, the watercolors had called to him today, and Zuko found himself sketching out a scene he remembered vividly. The water of the river was still and silent, the only light coming from the lantern hanging on the back of the boat. Even with that light, he kept the colors muted and dark – all except for the boy on the shore, wearing orange and softly asking if they could’ve been friends in a different world.

Three

Zuko had tried drawing with a lot of different mediums. He felt like his ink brush gave him the most control and was closest to how he imagined each sketch – but sometimes, he needed the roughness of charcoal.  His movements were quick as he furiously scribbled until the Avatar’s current incarnation stared up at him.  Zuko swallowed, too aware of his breathing as he studied the picture. The frantic anxiety pounding through his bloodstream had not yet been satisfied, so he pulled another sheet towards him. The charcoal stained his fingers as eyes began to emerge – eyes that haunted him.

Four

“Have you ever drawn me?” Aang asked, thinking about the beautiful depictions of the other Avatars from Zuko’s notebook. It was dark in the cabin they were stuck hiding in until the soldiers outside cleared out, but even so, Aang could clearly see the blush that spread across Zuko’s face. It made him grin. “Is that a yes?” Zuko shifted, avoiding his gaze. Literal tendrils of steam rose off of his red ears, and honestly, it was kind of adorable.  “Can I see?” Aang asked, amused.  “Not like I brought it with me,” Zuko mumbled, still not looking at him.

[intr0verted-weird0]

"Though the strings that played that melody survive, the one who inspired it is gone. Tell me, Cloud Retainer… when the one attuned to my soul is no longer here, who else could hope to understand this tune?"

— Streetward Rambler to Cloud Retainer

Boya (伯牙) was bright and eager to learn when he was young. After three years learning from his teacher Lian Cheng, he had already had a good command of the temperament and superb skills in playing the guqin (古琴). A few years later, his skills in playing the musical instrument had already reached a fairly high level. But he still felt that he could not superbly express the various things which had deeply impressed him. Knowing what was in his mind, his teacher said he would take Boya to his own teacher who would help Boya with his music.

He took him to the Penglai Island (蓬萊仙島), a fabled abode of immortals, on the East China Sea by boat. When they reached there, Lian Cheng told Boya to wait while he went to pick up his teacher. Then he disappeared with his boat. Boya waited and waited but his teacher didn’t come back for several days. His heart was filled with sadness.

The running waters, the flying seagulls and the silent woods all seem to be composing a sad melody. With myriads of thoughts welling up in his mind, he began to play a tune on his musical instrument. He found his music got more expression. It turned out that his teacher was putting him there by himself on purpose to let him find inspiration in the arms of Nature.

On the island, Boya enjoyed the natural scenarios and listened to the roaring of the great waves. He incorporated the beautiful nature with his music, thus reaching a realm of thought he had never experienced before.

One day Boya was boating alongside the river bank. A heavy downfall struck and suddenly he felt an urge to play his guqin. Thoroughly immersed in the scenery and his melody, Boya was startled out of his dreamy retreat when he noticed someone was hiding in the shadows. In his shock, he overused the strength of his finger and caused one of his guqin strings to snap. Boya came out of the boat, and saw a woodcutter standing on the bank.

The man, Zhong Ziqi (锺子期), had been listening to Boya’s music so attentively that he was even oblivious of the rain. Deeply touched, Boya invited Zhong Ziqi to his boat so he could share his music with him.

Full of zest, Boya played the guqin for him. As soon as Boya finished a tune he had named in his own mind “High Mountains,” Zhong Ziqi told him, unaware of Boya’s unstated title for the song, that the melody painted a picture of unbroken mountain ranges in his mind: "The melody is as magnificent and dignified as Mount Tai which reaches to the sky!"

Then, after Boya performed another tune he intended to call “Flowing Waters,” Zhong Ziqi commented that it seemed as if he had heard the torrent of the Yangzi (Chang) River while listening to the song: "The melody is as vast and mighty as the great rivers!"

Seeing his zhī yīn in front of him, Boya’s joy was boundless, and said "Bosom friend! Only you can understand my music!”

Before parting, they agreed to meet again in the near future. A few years later, Boya decided to pay Zhong Ziqi a visit. Unfortunately, when he arrived at his home, he learned that Zhong Ziqi had already passed away. Boya was filled with sorrow, lamenting that no one in this world would ever appreciate his music like Zhong Ziqi.

Rushing to his friend’s tomb, Boya knelt down and played his guqin. Then, rising slowly, he crashed it to the ground. After that day, not a single tune ever came out of Boya’s skillful hands again.

Boya's story exemplifies the Chinese ideal of friendship. The term zhī yīn (知音, literally "to know the tone") has come to describe a soulmate or intimate friend.

Boya was a guqin player from the Spring and Autumn period or the Warring States period. He was known by his first name of "Boya", although his surname is often incorrectly given as Yu (俞), so he is sometimes referred to as Yu Boya (俞伯牙) in modern literature. The Lute Platform in Hanyang, Wuhan, China was where musician Boya is said to have played. He is associated with the guqin pieces Gao Shan 《高山》 ("high mountain") and Liu Shui 《流水》 ("flowing water").

The famous melody in China, Gao Shan Liu Shui (高山流水), High Mountain and Flowing Water, is related to this story.

[impeccablebackside]

kinda like the thought of giving the queens a bit more "casual" cuddling during sex. like i imagine plato just giving his vicky some soft scraching behind her ears while he's also inside of her. the doubled pleasure causes her eyes to roll back, and she starts to purr. it'll also make them feel safe and even more comfortable with their partners. cuddling sometimes is just everything. but simultaneously with fucking? ...hell yipedi-yeah!

Thank you so much for this ask anon. While I have never really talked about it beyond one post, cuddling during sex is something that I think would be a really great thing (to put it lightly). That sort of sensation / sensual play holds a lot of good promise and is incredibly underrated. Anything that can elicit shivers of joy is wonderful.

I love the idea of some good ear attention or scalp / neck massage type secondary stimulation to go alongside the primary stimulation of being fucked. I am not sure if you know (but I am thinking that you do given the wording of your ask - so thanks again anon), but scalp massages or gentle scratching end up being very relaxing yet stimulating. It would cause Vic to be almost zoned out and in on each bit of attention she is gettting from her mans. Relaxed, but focused on all the pleasure, riding out the bliss in the most arresting of ways. Separately, the differing types of attention are welcomed, and together they combine and elevate the other. It would definitely border on being overwhelming once the waves of her orgasm start hitting her, with much more force than other situations would typically produce. The eyes rolling back is literally what I picture in my mind anon. We share similar thoughts it seems.

Even on the flip side, I am also all for delicate stimulation when a tom is jerking it or getting fucked. I know I would absolutely freaking melt with any form of butterfly kiss or gentle touch regardless of situation. I have a soft spot for super personal and intimate things like that. If I am in a 'vulnerable' position, I would likely shoot off and quiver at such light, but compelling attention. It would be so revelatory. I think Plato would be in the same boat. It is not the amount of non-sexual stimulation, but rather simply the meaningful attention he would get from Vic. Any sort of focus on him by the white queen gets him weak to begin with. I think him jerking himself while Vic sits behind or beside him, giving him sweet kisses and whispering in his ear is a semi-frequent occurrence to some degree. I even wrote a very short post about it. Even in other fics, I have dropped in mentions of neck or ear nibbling, headpats / caressing, or ear rubbing. While they are never a big focus at all, they all contribute a bit to making the character feel even more special.

Even just as part of aftercare, cuddling and sensual touches are so perfect between Vic and Plato. Both of them are quite spent after they are finished fucking one another's brains out and serving their souls some good pleasure. Vic takes time to clean herself to return to the prim and proper queen she embodies, making sure her fur is back in order. Plato usually sits quietly contemplating after, mostly because his mind is still levelling off from what he experienced. However, he always helps to clean her off once he floats back down to earth, and spends extra time cleaning her headfur because he cannot help kissing her over and over again.

Whether it be pre- or post- sex, they both absolutely love the quiet time spent cuddling with one another. It fills both of them with an euphoria that they cannot get any other way. After the short time when they are both idle catching their breaths, Vic turns to watch Plato, who is always looking at her with a smitten love blazed across his face. Being appreciated by someone else in such a close physical relationship makes Vic feel so special and safe. Particularly, Plato giving her head pats and rubbing her face makes her melt, and all the stress she holds is beautifully unwound. Attention to her ears and the fur under eyes comforts Vic, and she gets always gets sleepy. Sweet, affectionate kisses between the two of them alongside this elevate the aura of love. Curled up together with her man is her favourite place to be, and after sex they drift off wholly content and wrapped in the warmth of each others arms. It really is a beautiful thing.

You are definitely correct anon, cuddling and embracing is oftentimes everything, regardless of if it involves sex or not. Very little is as rewarding as simply belonging to someone else. Knowing that you belong so wholeheartedly to the positive essence and energy of another, no matter the context, is part of what inspires my idea of romanticism. To be truly in love is to possess that level of interconnectedness where you are not whole without someone else. To bridge the physical contact between two people and become one, sharing in the warmth and embrace of another is superb. To conflate the emotions and desire of two people into a miasmic haze of love (and lust) is truly a premise of immense joy. The closeness, specifically the innate intimacy where two people can connect in such powerful way, seems like it would be the ultimate end-goal. Potentially more than any sort of sexual satisfaction.

[caribouv]

israel is offering boat tours off the coast of gaza so you can watch it get bombed. sit with your family to ooooo and ahhhh at the pretty colors and be quiet to listen for the screaming across the coastline after. go watch pretty fireworks with your girlfriend where every bomb is another unimaginable atrocity.

"get a picture of us kissing with the white phosphorous glowing in the background for us please?"

i wrote about "back and forth in my mind about what kind of crazy ass murderous escalating shit netanyahu is going to do to help trump win" a few weeks ago

then we get this COMPLETE LUNATIC cellphone terrorism in lebanon followed by ongoing rampant bombing. everyone is talking about a land invasion. i don't think they have the forces for it. it's going to literally just be more bombing. talking today about turning south Lebanon into Gaza.

netanyahu happy about this because he gets to stay and power and avoids jail. hamas happy about this because hopefully it'll drag lebanon, others into the war and give them room to breath/fight.

the fucking white house constantly filling up israel's EDD payment card and then giving it a menu asking it which bombs it wants to order. and the US is tapped to the limits. nothing stockpiled literally having to make shit to order.

and there's laws and treaties against this. we don't sell to countries that cause humanitarian crises nor genocide. except the oversight has to come from congress and lol good luck. two months ago they gave that asshole 54? standing ovations even after he labeled huge swaths of american citizens as iranian terrorists.

checks and balances has always been a joke there are no checks there are no balances when it's a one party system on foreign policy with everyone on the same page.

remember after 9/11 everyone being "why why why did this happen why how could they why would they doooooooo this?"

:: gestures at fucking everything ::

[gubsgames]

Tavuary Day 8: Embrace!

It's the eighth day of #Tavuary! There are two ways to participate by either following the Week-by-Week Prompts (Week Two is "Amour") or by using the Day-by-Day prompts found in this post! Fic Title: Homecoming Pairing: Astarion x Dandy (my Halfling Bard Tav) Warnings: None, just cute and fluffy. Summary: Post-Game. All roads lead home when you're with the one you love.

For two hundred years, all Astarion wanted to do was leave Baldur’s Gate. To be born, die, and born again in the same location was not how he pictured spending eternity. Far from hating the city, he loved it; it was his home; but it became just a familiar cage that he needed to be free of... for a while at least. After the battle against the Elder Brain, the Gate needed strict oversight as reconstruction began, and Dandy was not going to leave the city until she was sure that the patriar families minded their business and did not waste precious time and resources fighting over a power vacuum. Thankfully, Duke Ravenguard provided the guidance and authority necessary to keep the peace.  Then there was the issue of creating a liveable community, for lack of a better word, for the multitude of spawn in the Underdark. Astarion and his siblings came to accords in that they would take responsibility for the spawns’ existence and create a managerial system to try their best to keep everyone fed and amongst the un-living. Favours had to be called in from some of their newfound allies — the Myconids, the Ironhand gnomes, and even Thrumbo and his undead friends, just to name a few. The stories from those weeks and months could fill an ocean of parchment, including a pact between the vampire siblings and House Shattershield; Astarion’s limited legal knowledge being handy in utilizing an obscure city statute that had remained long-forgotten for two centuries; and a meeting with the mysterious and illusive Lady Incognita. Those tales, however, are for another time. When the literal and metaphorical dust settled, finally came the chance for Dandy and Astarion to explore the Sword Coast at their leisure, to celebrate with their companions. The couple could decide their next steps and embrace whatever the future offered: They could have gone to the northwest to explore the great library of Spirit Soaring in search of tomes that might lead them to a cure for Astarion’s sunlight “allergy.” They could have taken a boat up the Winding Water to the black granite wonder that was the Boareskyr Bridge for the purpose of trading goods and information with the multitude of merchants there. However, Astarion had a different idea; he wanted to see where Dandy was from, and she obliged. Off they went southeast, across rivers, over rocky climbs, through woods and empty dales. They took their time and explored along the way until they made it to the Shining South, beyond the treacherous Toad-Squat Mountains and the ancient Long Forest. They finally arrived to the Kingdom of Luiren, motherland of the Halflings.  Despite all they had seen, all they had experienced, Astarion could not explain the odd sense of childlike wonder that came from seeing towns and cities built in complete miniature scale. Well, miniature in comparison to him. For the first time, he saw Dandy interacting with a world made for her. She did not struggle to reach things, and she had a better view in a crowd than an ocean of unsightly back-ends. Astarion tried his best to conjure some of Dandy’s grace when dealing with inconveniences — Cups that were swallowed up in his fingers. Doorframes and hanging lanterns suddenly became safety hazards. It was an adjustment.

When they reached Berry Hollow, the village founded by Dandy’s parents, Rufus Berrykin and Daffodil Barrelborne, they were on the complete opposite side of the continent from where they started. The village sat nestled in a peaceful valley, encircled by the natural protection of the Lluirwood. The reunion of the Berryborne family with their daughter, their introduction to her vampire spawn beau, and the shenanigans that ensued could fill the pages of their own novel. For now, gentle readers, let us turn to a quiet scene with the couple at present:

Rain pelted the parlour windows of the cottage, half-buried in a Berry Hollow hillside, that Dandy and Astarion called their winter home. Scratch the Dog and Munch the Owlbear snoozed on the rug in front of the hearth where a cozy fire kept any chill at bay. Astarion was settled in his own comfortable chair, one that had, thankfully, been custom-built for “Big Folk,” with his feet propped up on a nearby ottoman. His Majesty, purring uncharacteristically loud, was fast asleep and curled into the blanket across his lap. 

Though Astarion cycled through several pastimes to stave off boredom, one that he always returned to was embroidery. Much like creating his own perfumes and colognes was a source of pride, Astarion took comfort in that he had skills beyond seduction, murder, and mayhem. He could be useful; he could be seen. His current project was adding a bit of tasteful embellishment to the cuffs of a pair of new shirt-sleeves. 

Glancing across the tea table, stacked high with sweely-scented, freshly baked bouqthi, Astarion took a moment to watch Dandy as she scrawled notes across the sheet music on her lap-desk. She was wrapped up in a brightly-coloured quilt in her own perfectly sized armchair. She nibbled away on a rhubarb bouqthi with one hand while her busy quill was in the other. 

Astarion was just about to tell Dandy how beautiful she looked in the firelight when she went for more ink and accidentally dunked her quill nib in her teacup. 

Dandy threw her head back in resigned frustration. “Hells’ bells!”

The frustrated pout on Dandy’s sweet face only made Astarion laugh in his high-pitched tittering way, which, in turn, made her start giggling as well. It was the most at-ease and light-hearted Astarion had ever felt in his life, and, ss long as he was with Dandy, he knew was home. 

[piece-of-hweat]

A Little Nightmare I had...

This is a recall of a dream I had last summer (2022) I believe? There are gaps in my memory, practically because of the one-year gap, but also because I do not recall the section of the dream at all. I'll tell you about it regardless.

The dream starts off with the nightmare kids (Six, Mono, Runaway, Raincoat) who are trying to escape a dark, lightless city filled with shadow monsters. There was also this... grandma(?), similar to The Lady/Geisha, who kept chasing us, trying to capture us. While we were being chased, we came across a dock and got into one of the boats. Runaway and Raincoat started the boat up while me and Mono kept look out. We escape into the waters, but the grandma follows us into the water. While we fled, a monster, what I recall being a giant baby/doll with an animal face, emerges from the water and tries to eat us, before getting injured or something, and crashing onto The Grandma. The two get into a fight and we escape deeper into the black water.

Then there was a big gap in my memory

After the gap was another section of the dream. It took place in a forest-area, similar to the beginning of the second LN game. There was this event going on where the townspeople of the woods would gather about in a clearing to... hang clothing??? This was just done out in the middle of nowhere and some people had guns for some reason. For whatever reason, we tried to cross the field. We had to sneak under each bit of clothing while it was up on the clotheslines- we were just not allowed to pass if the clothing was in front of our face. While in the process, one of us stepped on the clothing by accident, and a gunshot sounded. Shortly afterwards, the gunmen started to shoot at us.

While dodging the bullets and pushing past the clothing, we got to the end of the field where there's just this... dirt-mound piled up to look like a anthill, but with children-sized holes, perfect for us to slip through and possibly fall underground. We quickly enter the little holes slid into a new section. I remember it being really weird because the tunnel rounded back to the start I think, and there were these huge, ugly hands that kept trying to grab us. I remember Mono (or Runaway), who went in first, literally stop his sliding to prevent us from sliding straight into the hands of the gunmen.

We did eventually get caught and then we were knocked out. Later, I remember waking up in a cell. Looking out from the bars I could see the rest of the room. The room we were in was like an office, but underground. Clearly underground. Half the walls were stone and the rest were smooth, ugly-stained marble walls. On said marble walls were framed pictures of pinned insects like dragonflies and butterflies. On the wall to my right was this large steel door, and beside that door was a desk that was parallel to our cell. I remember there being a black-"leather" sofa-chair behind the desk. I don't know why I remember that but whatever I guess. On the desk sat piles of papers on it and a big birdcage, a bird cage that contained Mono, if I remember correctly. He didn't have his mask on which was strange because (in the context of the dream) he had a really big issue with his face, he just hated it and absolutely could not stand just having his face out and about.

Apparently, our captors, who were-- I kid you not-- dressed in nun-like clothing (this was far before TSON so that was... weird-- explains why I got mass amounts of deja vu), were trying to... do something to us? But since Mono woke up first and had ooga booga magic, he made a compromise with our captors. Apparently, he promised to be their little lab rat, do everything they told him to do, so they could conduct tests on him. He was literally forced to stay in his own little hell just so we wouldn't get hurt or something of the sorts.

I (Six) woke up when the captors were "talking" to/threatening Mono. After the captors left, they left via the steel door. It clicked shut and there was a electric-sound I guess? Like... the beep of a smart lock or something, idk. Mono, despite the threat being gone, did not talk a lot, which is unusual to me. I kinda put two and two together and asked Mono if he was alright.

Six: "Hey... Mono, are you alright?" Mono: "Huh? Oh... yeah." Six: "...You sure? It doesn't sound like it..." Mono: silence Six: "You don't have to do any of that. We can get out of here soon, it'll be okay." Mono: "No, no, it's fine. I'll be okay. Everything will be fine."

He smiled really awkwardly at me, turned away quickly, and I woke up shortly after that.

My brain was fr really goofy back then. I had vivid-ish dreams quite often. They've disappeared ever since school started so... that's great... (this isn't the first time this happened. I had vivid dreams when I was younger, there was a 4-year gap where I didn't dream. It was because school was taking up more of my life. I think the same thing is happening again so weee ✨✨✨)

Aight. That's all I have to say. Goodbye o/