#it's been collecting dust on my shelf for a while

[121ubyday6]

man.. rereading the arc of a scythe trilogy!!!!

[luvuomi]

it’s finally time for me to read the cruel prince ( i am so fucking ready )

[goosewriting]

so to get into the star wars books i'm starting with sam maggs' jedi battle scars, which follows cal & co and takes place between jfo and survivor. i just finished chapter 3 and i'm kinda mad i didn't start reading star wars books earlier,, it's like reading fanfiction but, you know, it's canon? lol

also i'm enjoying maggs' style immensely. low-key feels like my own writing style for cal which... it's kinda weird but also strangely reassuring? lol

so yeah i'm reading these to get into sw books but also as research for my next fic which is about cal in the survivor game timeline. i wanna know what happened in between the games so i can properly reference it lol

[bywons]

✶ A LITTLE HELP — SJY

╰—— 𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

( ✶🪽𝓢. ) 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 g. 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 ? 1217 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 contains ! 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 (?), 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 ✦ ◞ 𝒞 ATALOGUE?!

๑´ ³`) ﾉ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!

“i mean your abs are pretty impressive, pretty convenient for a washing board though.”

an offended, loud gasp from just beside you, makes you giggle. the cardboard boxes rustle against each other, a few of them being opened up to take out your newly ordered white vases, which your helpful neighbour skillfully places among the wooden shelves.

meanwhile, you wipe off the dust and rearrange the little trinkets on the white showcase, occasionally admiring your handsome neighbours’ work.

“when did you see my abs though, are you lying to me, ms y/n?”, jake scoffs, putting the last vase on the shelf.

you giggle, finishing off your work on the showcase, “i think you're forgetting that our apartment complex has a gym, mr jake,” you walk towards him, an unexpected rise in your heartbeat, “last week.”

“was i on the bench press?”, jake smirks, before catching his lower lip between his teeth and flicking it outside. you don't know what he's trying to do with all that, but he is sure to make your heart beat faster.

“treadmill”, you correct him.

the proximity between you and your striking neighbour increases by the windowsill, where both mild sun rays and inquisitive pairs of eyes can peek in, but it's something that doesn't bother you. after all, sim jake is only here to help you, just a helping hand for you when you've decided to clean and rearrange your apartment.

you don't know how the helping part is kept aside for now, confused at how jake is staring into your eyes, a hesitant but longing step closer to you. he should've been helping you with the bookshelf now, stacking in the new books to the according racks.

but right now he is busy igniting new feelings to your heart.

jake is too close for your own good, left hand threatening to close in around your waist and pull you into such a proximity he has only imagined. he could smear that pink lip gloss of yours now, his hand on you and his mind all dizzy, it would be a perfect weekend for him.

and as he's about to accomplish that, when you swiftly glide out of his imaginary hold on you and pick up the new books to be kept in place, breaking your poor neighbours’ heart.

“that's too much work for a pretty girl like you,” jake was fast, you have to give it to him, well not only in pace but also incredibly fast to make you squeal inside, “i'll take them from ‘ya.”

“you know i can do that myself”, you scoff, leaning against the bookshelf as he snatches the basket full of new books, arranging them.

“yes ma'am”, jake sings, pulling out another giggle from you while he pushes the new books between the old ones, “but i'd rather do it myself you know? wouldn't want your arms all tired.”

you had enough time, strength and leisure to stroll around your apartment and bedeck it, a change of scenario and colours for your eyes, a break from the dust collecting shelves eyeing you from their constant spot. you definitely didn't need another flirty neighbours’ help who could easily pull you into a scandal.

five months ago when you first moved in here, you didn't expect a cheeky, lovestruck neighbour, jake, to knock on your doors every weekend. and even if you're not willing to talk, his flirting skills would find his way to your smile anyway.

so jake became a regular face to witness, a regular voice to hear and a regular touch that you wished would linger for one more second.

“nosy neighbours”, jake reads out the title of the last book on his hand, “ouch, am i a nosy neighbour?”, a dramatic hand over his heart and a fake pout made you giggle harder.

“shut up jake”, you roll your eyes, hitting his arm.

“actually i'd like to borrow this book from ya”,

“you read books too?”, you tilt your head in confusion, an eyebrow raised at his request.

“are you surprised?”, jake giggles, taking a step closer to you as he secures the book in his hand.

“of course i am”, you let out a hearty laugh, hands flying up to your face to cover your flushed cheeks, “i thought all you do is flirt with women and lure them into your apartment”, you tease.

“that's not very nice, ms y/n,” and he goes back to his unnecessary honorific and a dangerous smirk tugging at his lips, making you swoon, “i’m hurt to know you think of me like that.”

jake leans in until he's face to face with you, his hot breath tickles your cheeks and makes them bloom from inside. he's at it again, his infamous grin while he stares you down, his rosy lips are too close to yours.

“the only woman i want to take home is you”, he whispers, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ears. his eyes wander about to face, to your eyes to lips to neck to your eyes again, “do they kiss in the book?”

“no spoilers”, you whisper back.

“fair enough”, jake scoffs, his lips hovering over the corner of yours as he pulls you in by your waist, until you have to create a barricade between you two by softly pressing your palms against his chest. but jake doesn't really gives you what you want, he teases you, grazing his lips over the corners of yours and pressing a light peck on your cheek before pulling back.

he leaves you blushing and stunned, which he likes and smiles at.

“o-ok now i have a lot of work,” you hurriedly grab jake’s hand and begin to drag him towards the door.

“aww are you shooing me away, y/n?”, jake whines, walking the few steps to the exit on his own, “i was just having fun!”

“i wasn't”, you bite your lips, suppressing in a chuckle as you look at him, standing on your threshold.

“oh? is that so?”, jake's eyes widens, he's loving this little act of yours.

as if you didn't turn butter under his touch just a few seconds ago.

“yeah! now off you go jake, i have a lot of things to do”, you try to send him off, lightly pushing on his chest and he's quick to grab your hand.

he brings it near his lips and kisses the inside of your wrist, looking up at you he says, “why don't you come over someday? return my favour maybe?”

all the blood in your body rushes up to your ears and cheeks and you stand still before him, not knowing what to do when you slowly retract your hand. he's intoxicating and he knows it, even if you don't visit him, jake already has an excuse to return his borrowed book to see your pretty face again. maybe you should give it a thought, give him a chance? after all, you can't deny the fact that he does make your heart beat faster.

you clear your throat, “i'll think about it.”

jake chuckles, “you better, ‘want to lure in my favourite pretty girl”, he winks at you, a final blow before he quickly pecks your cheek again, “9:30, i'll be waiting, gorgeous.”

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

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[stariekis]

a room for two

🛋️ pairing : 엔하이픈 ot7 + gn!reader . genre : fluff . cw : kisses + skinship

— synopsis : visiting their room for the first time <3

— note : finally i had the inspiration to write smt 🙌🏻 sorry for being inactive lately babies but here you have more ot7 content ! hope you enjoy reading it, as always reposts and feedback are so welcome <3 sending the biggest kiss ^3^

heeseung :

we all know how big of a gamer he is so i know that he would have one of those professional gamer set ups in his room, the one that streamers usually have. and, as he has shown us, he collect figures too so a big shelf full of them is a must in his room. — 'this is were i spend most of my time' he said, sitting on his chair — 'now i know where you are when you don't answer my text am i right?' you answered, joking obviously. he rolled his eyes at your comment, taking you hand on his and making you sit on his lap, his hands now resting on you thighs. you admired his room, he didn't have a lot of decoration but it was so like him. — 'i think i like your room more than mine, i might come over more' you said turning to him. he giggled at your comment, you just made him the happiest boy ever. pecking your lips he answered — 'you are more than welcome doll' giving you another kiss, this one lasting more than the other one you both just shared.

jay :

i've always imagine him having the tidiest room ever. but, because it was the first time sleeping with you, he wanted his room to look ten times better. he cleaned everything up, light up candles and changed his sheets, it needs to be perfect. when you entered his room for the first time you were welcomed by the coziest room you've ever been, the aroma of vanilla flooded your nose —'you like it love?' jay said, standing on the door frame while looking at your curious figure eyeing up his room. — 'hope you do because you will spend a lot of time here from now on' he was now hugging your waist from behind. — 'i like that idea actually' you answer him, receiving a kiss on your neck from him.

jake :

his room was, to your surprise, very organized. you thought that his room would be kind of messy but everything was perfectly placed, not a single dust speck visible. — 'don't be fooled, his room is not always this tidy' you heard jay say as he passed in front of jake's room — 'WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT MAN' he shouted stepping out of his room, hearing jay laugh down the hallway right after. taking his arm and pulling him inside again you hold both of his hands — 'baby it's fine, i wouldn't mind at all' you pecked his pouty lips, he didn't want you to know (even though you would end up discovering it, but not know at least) — 'now that you know my secret i don't have to clean every time, is tiring you know?' grabbing you by the waist he lifted you off the ground and sat the both of you on his bed, spending the rest of the day in each other's embrace.

sunghoon :

he would have the most minimalist room out of them. lots of framed pics perfectly placed on his walls — 'you took all of them?' you said sitting on his desk chair, they were the first thing that caught your attention — 'each and every one of them yeah' a smile plastered on his face as he answered your question, feeling proud that you liked his pics that much. you turned around on his chair now facing him who was sitting in his bed with his camera on his hand — 'wait baby i want to take a picture of you stay there' you smile at the camera, the flash appearing right after —'why do you want a picture of me here hoon?' you asked him, getting up from his chair and making your way towards him, standing in between his open legs. he put his camera aside and grabbed your hips looking up at you — 'because i like to take pictures of pretty views and you are the prettiest one i've ever seen'.

sunoo :

i just know that sunoo would have tons of cute plushies on his bed ): so as soon as you opened the door you were welcomed by a pile of plushie on top of his bed — 'you put them away when you sleep right?' you said, he looked at you with a shocked expression — 'no i don't, how could you say something like that?' your expression changed into a shocked one — 'how are we going to fit in your bed then my love?' you said putting your hand on you hips while looking at his bed. — we will make it work don't worry' he concluded, smiling at you. the next morning you found all of his beloved "friends" on the floor, a reminder to put them aside the next time.

jungwon :

like sunoo i thing he might have tons of plushie on top of his bed, mostly fan gifts. when you entered his room and saw all the cat plushies you smiled turning towards him — 't-they are not mine they are from jay i'm just keeping them here... yeah' you laugh at his reaction, sitting on his bed and taking one on you hand you out it next to you boyfriend's face — 'they look like you thought' he took from your hands the plushie and looked at him with a smile adoring his face. sitting next to you in his bed he looked at you, sighing — 'you didn't believe it right?' you shook your head hearing him laugh as he lay on his bed, you followed right after. — 'but having that many plushie of yourself is a bit self-centered don't you think' you jokingly said, looking at his side profile. he pinched your side while mouthing a 'shut up', hearing you giggling right after.

ni-ki :

he would be a nervous wreck my baby </3 and i know for a fact that he would hide all his plushie in his closet so you won't see them, he thought that you might find it ridiculous. the idea was fine at first but his secret was soon to be discovered when you opened his wardrobe and a tiny duck plushie felt in front of you. he was laying on his bad looking at his phone so he didn't realize what just happened. you made your way towards him with the little duck on your hand — 'this is so cute why was him on your closet' he looked up from his phone but as soon as he made eye contact with the thing on your hands he rolled on his back and hid his face on his hands — 'you weren't supposed to see that babe' laughing at him you sat down on top of him putting the stuffed animal up in his face telling him how similar they were. a long night was ahead for the both of you.

[sixosix]

summary wc 1.5k, lyney’s teapot voicelines (with a bit of modification here and there) turned fic. just fluff and pining lyney LOLL to celebrate him coming home yesterday ❤️

“Hey, Y/N!”

Arriving at the Serenitea Pot only to come face-to-face with a certain illustrious magician is what you haven’t been expecting. You stumble back from surprise, and Lyney reaches out to catch you naturally, like this was something out of his scripted shows.

He beams. “I just knew you would be making an appearance here!”

“D-Don’t scare me like that!” you scold, warmth spreading across your face with each passing moment of his proximity. What’s with Lyney’s breath coming off so warm? It burns more than holding his vision for too long. “What if it was someone else who came in here?”

“That’d be really awkward,” Lyney admits, but his easy smile and undaunted fingers on the small of your back convey no embarrassment.

“I almost forgot that I gave you permission to this teapot,” you sigh, gently pushing him away with a palm on his chest. He concedes, pulling you upright and backing off.

You place your hands on your hips. “Well? How do you like it here?”

Lyney’s smile softens impossibly, letting his gaze wander around your teapot. Outside, it’s dim and wet from the rain, but here, his face is cast in a warm, gold glow—it’s taking all of you not to crash onto his chest and use him as a heated stuffed toy. “Your home is breathtaking. Even a legendary magician like myself can confidently say I've never seen or heard of anything like it!”

You huff, gesturing for him to follow you inside. “Impressed, are we?”

“It’s hard not to be impressed by anything when it comes to you,” Lyney says without missing a beat. You thank every archon listening that your back is facing him, not your bitten lips and wide eyes. “But were I to say I've already gotten completely used to it... Would you think I'm lying?”

Is he planning to make himself at home on the first day? “Sure doesn't seem like the truth.”

Lyney laughs, speeding up to walk beside you. “Aw, that really hurts my feelings… But, I was really being honest this time!”

“Ha, ha,” you say blankly, twisting the doorknob open. Lyney ooh’s and aah’s at the sight of your hall, twirling around as he takes each in, from souvenirs you received in Fontaine to furniture you bought all the way from Mondstadt.

He makes his way to a shelf filled with various items you’ve collected over time, region to region. The Adhigama Wood still looks as clean as it was first bought, after you’d been lectured about the special paint that’ll keep it grease-free, appearing untouched. Lyney looks hesitant to reach out, scanning a framed picture in the middle.

It’s a solo picture of you with flowers adorning your head, two bouquets wrapped in large leaves in your arms, and your face captured mid-laugh. The aranaras took it. Lyney looks at it for a moment too long, his finger hovering above the glass.

Starting to feel a little strange about it, you stand beside him, wondering if there’s anything wrong with the picture that he’s seeing. Yet there is nothing but a thin layer of dust on the image, which you swipe away. “Something caught your eye?”

He turns back to you with a mischievous grin. “Well, looks like I've got no choice but to stay here for a while longer! After all, it will take some time for me to win your trust again.”

Lyney looks up at you through his lashes, tilting his head. “...You won't kick me out, right?”

‘Staying here for a while longer’ meant that Lyney was checking every nook, cranny, and room, empty or unoccupied (“Some of your friends live here?” Lyney gapes). You give him a bit of a story for each one, and he soaks your words in like a sunflower to the sun, never appearing disinterested even when you speak about a round table like it’s your firstborn child.

He’s explored more than your friends whom you’ve offered to give rooms to, which is saying enough. And now, exhausted, you pair rest on the loveseat, gazing at the ceiling wordlessly.

“Say,” Lyney says, after moments of silence. He sits up, shuffling closer to you until he kneels on the seat cushion and displays his hat. “Why don't you take a look at this? Do you see anything different about it?”

You squint. “Don't think there's any difference.”

“Ah, but that just means you need to look at it more carefully! Just come a bit closer.” Lyney brightens when you play along, drawing nearer himself. “So, do you have the answer? Is it the pattern, or the color? You should have seen this hat many times before.”

“...Nope, still not seeing it.”

He sighs, resting the hat on your head. “What a pity... Although, your conclusion is actually correct.”

Unbelievably confused, you reach out to hold it, patting all around it. “Is it bigger or smaller than before?” You can’t see much from this angle, nor feel much.

“You look adorable,” Lyney grins, pinching your cheek. “And no, the whole thing was misdirection. I just played a little trick, and stole something of yours. And after that, I also slipped a card into your pockets.”

You blink, reaching down to your pockets and fishing out a card, just as he’s said. It feels as real as it can be between your fingers, still warm from its previous holder.

Lyney grins at your dumbstruck expression, pleased. “Now, can you guess what I stole from you?”

You take a moment to answer, watching him carefully. “My heart?”

He jolts just as his entire face bursts into flames. “Ah, um, a most unexpected answer! I have to say, even my heart has begun to race too.” He looks at you with a petulant glare, as if saying, why would you say that?

Lyney clears his throat, “What I actually stole, however, was your ‘attention.’ E-Even though it's not nearly as valuable as your heart, it's still very important to us magicians nonetheless!”

He trails off, face still pink. “...Okay, you can return my card to me now.”

After that, it had been pretty hard to get rid of Lyney.

He seems to always be there whenever you come around—either spread out on the couch and practicing cards with one hand until you call for him, or appearing in front of you the moment you warp in. You ask if he’s just here every day, waiting for you, but he seems embarrassed to give you an answer.

Today, he has his pets with him. Some of them fly and run around outside, with Lyney at ease when you assure him that there are no signs of monsters here, and you have an Adeptus continuing to keep this haven safe.

You have Lyney’s hat on your lap, playing with Rosseland. The cat is performing a little magic show for you, taking after its owner, especially with how it soaks in your applause with a smug smile.

Lyney is a deflated balloon on the other side of the room, most likely regretting his decision as now you’ve poured all your attention on his pet assistants instead of him. Even worse, his pets seem to love you much more.

Having enough, Lyney approaches from behind, frowning at Rosseland, who appears unbothered, loving the crowd as always.

Your head falls back to the couch, looking at Lyney with a dazzling smile. “You were asking if they could stay here, right? I think you can guess my answer.”

Lyney is torn between celebrating and groaning at the thought of possibly more days of you ignoring him to come. “That would be wonderful,” he says instead, though sincerely. “Thank you.”

You laugh quietly, pulling him close with your fingers on his nape. “Why do you look constipated? Don’t tell me you’re feeling jealous over your own cat?”

He doesn’t tell you, so he keeps quiet instead, the red on his cheeks spreading all the way to his neck.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Lyney says, feigning annoyance while you chuckle. He leans impossibly closer, until your noses are barely an inch away.

“Your cat is watching,” you warn upon seeing the look on his face.

Lyney groans, snatching the hat and wearing it on his head, where Rosseland settles inside by practice. Then, against your mouth, he whispers, “Haven’t I made it obvious I brought them here as an excuse for this?”

You raise an eyebrow. “So you are jea—”

You didn’t end up finishing your sentence at all, swallowed by the press of his lips.

 

By this point, you’re no longer surprised whenever you enter your teapot. 

“Morning, Lyney,” you say, leaving him stunned instead when you plant a kiss on his cheek before maneuvering around and entering your home.

It takes a while for him to snap out of it. Lyney grins, catching up to you. “Good morning. It would be great if I could see you every morning if you’re gonna kiss me like that.”

a/n more sixosix lyney fic what have i become

[wareagleofthemountain]

Wild Flower

Pairing: Thranduil x Wife!reader

The hour was early, well before sunrise, and the sky was still dotted with the bright constellations of the night. You pulled on your flowing cloak, knee high riding boots, and a satchel full of fruits you’d snagged from the kitchens as you ran through the halls of the Woodland Realm’s underground palace. Your steps were light, almost soundless, and you were careful not to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself as you slipped through the shadows.

“Your Majesty…” Feren bowed to you as you reached the main door that he had been standing guard of all night. “Where might you be off to at this hour?”

“Just making my rounds.” You gave him a playful smile and attempted to walk past him, only for the young guard to lay a hand on your shoulder and halt your movements.

“Does King Thranduil know? Milady, surely I must assemble you an escort team…” His eyes held a slight twinge of unease as he fidgeted with the hem of his tunic. All elves in the Greenwood were aware of their King’s ill temper, and what would surely befall his guards should something happen to his beloved wife while under their watch.

“Thank you Feren, but that will not be necessary. I won’t be long. Besides, my husband has had a tiring few days at council.” With that, you pushed the doors open and stepped out into the outer compound. With Summer just on the horizon, you relished the crisp morning breeze that hit your face and cut through the humidity. Your lashes brushed against your cheeks as you half closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Sweet honeysuckle and the poetry of songbirds flooded your senses like a love letter from the woods to your ears. These were truly the moments that grounded you, for out here in the stillness of dawn you were not beholden to your role. You could shed the heavy crown of queendom and simply exist as you were.

A soft smile spread across your features as Thranduil’s preferred pet name for you seeped into your mind. My wild flower.

Your heart swelled thinking of all the times those words have poured from his lips, his deep voice smooth and rich like honey. Where other rulers might have been cross when you’d show up to a meeting with a light dusting of dirt on your dress and one or two stray leaves in your hair from losing track of time planting trees in the garden, Thranduil merely smiled knowingly and motioned you to take your seat right next to him. “My wild flower.” He’d whisper, reaching up and gently removing the small twig from your hair. His clear blue eyes would sparkle at you no matter who was talking during the proceedings and he’d be keen on hearing about your escapades in the garden as soon as his council took leave of him. Not to say you were a lackadaisical ruler, not at all. In fact, it is quite the opposite. You were just never a fan of formality. Thranduil saw you for who you were as if you were made of glass, and adored you beyond words for it.

The mighty elk you and Thranduil had raised from a calf looked up at you from where he was laying in a straw bed that lined the floor of his stall in the stables. The back gate of the stall was always open, leaving him the freedom to come and go as he pleased, but he often came in for shelter during the night. And, of course, so he can be the first to get breakfast when the stable keepers come in in the morning. The majestic creature rubbed his antlers against the wall as he stretched, getting to his feet.

“Morning my friend.” You cooed, opening the front gate and holding out a sliced apple in offering. You fed each piece to him, the elk crunching loudly with every bite he took. You slowly walked towards him, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his. “Want to go for a ride?” You whispered, and he nuzzled his big nose into the crook of your neck in response.

No sooner did you turn around to collect his brush from the tack shelf behind you that your steed was attempting to munch on the satchel around your waist. He knew there was still some fruit in there.

“You’re too smart for your own good.” You chuckle and swat him away lightly. “There’s more where that came from if you behave.”

You hum a soft Silven melody of old, a tale of forbidden love between two elves of warring families that ends with them running away together and marrying, as you brush out the elk’s shiny coat. Satisfied with your work, you returned the brush in favor of a simple brown leather bridle with reins attached. Thranduil always used a saddle when he rode, even when it was outside the context of the battlefield, but you preferred to ride bareback so you could connect more deeply to the animal as you traveled. You effortlessly mounted the tall elk and squeezed his sides with your thighs to get him moving at a trot out of the stables.

He tossed his head impatiently as you’d made it to the fork in the road that led to the more scenic forest trails. He was eager to run and you knew it, pausing to tighten your braid before you gave him the go ahead. The ground trembled in his wake, strong hooves pounding the dirt when he took off in a full on sprint. You laughed, throwing your head back as he jumped over fallen trees, weaved through switch backs in the trail, and conquered expansive fields with ease. You felt as if you were flying. As if you were as wild as the terrain before you.

You stopped halfway through your journey through the forest to give your elk a rest, the rest of your fruit, and a drink from the river. You stripped down to your shift and climbed to the top of a nearby waterfall and drank from its current, letting down your hair and enjoying the feeling of the tiny mist drops kissing your skin. From your vantage point, you could see nothing but a sea of green being illuminated in golden beams as the sun rose before your very eyes. This was the land you ruled over, and you were proud. You leapt from the waterfall, going for a brief swim to cool you down in preparation for the ride back home in the heat, and splashed the elk a few times for good measure.

By the time you returned to the palace, the halls were bustling with activity and you managed to intercept your maid who was standing outside your chamber door prepared to take in your and the king’s breakfast. “Thank you, but I can take it from here.” You said kindly, smiling as the elleth bowed and took her leave.

You quietly opened the double oaken doors to your chambers, kicking off your boots before slipping in. The space was dark, only being lit by a few torches scattered about the walls, but it was comforting all the same. This was home because he was here waiting. Even after all your centuries of marriage, you still felt giddy as you approached the large canopy bed with leaves carved into the posts that you knew he was sleeping on. Placing the breakfast tray on the nightstand for later, you shed your cloak and climbed in beside Thranduil. Hovering over him, you smiled as you noticed how innocent his sharp blue eyes seemed, half lidded from sleep as they were. Suddenly, a strong hand shot up and hooked around your waist, pulling you to the mattress only so he could roll on top of you a moment later. The action happened so fast that you did not have time to yelp in surprise.

“Your nose is cold meleth…” Thranduil mumbled, nuzzling his cheek against yours before pressing a soft kiss to your nose. “I’ll warm you.”

You hugged him close, rubbing circles into his back and lovingly working the morning tangles out of his hair.

“Did you have a good ride, my wild flower?” He brushed over your cheekbones with his thumbs, lips slotting against yours.

“Yes, but I’m glad to be home with you.” You sank into his touch.

“I’m afraid I’ve been distant from you lately. The court has demanded it even though I am counting down the seconds.” His eyes are apologetic. “Allow me to correct my mistake. We are taking the day off to spend together.”

At that you beam. “I’d love that.”

[missmimii]

✍︎︎ 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

@st7rnioioss request (ily babydoll♡︎)

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In the heart of a quaint town, Matt finds himself stumbling into the isles of a dear bookstore, adventuring through the labyrinth of towering bookshelves, he finds himself captivated not just by the titles, but by the girl who tells them.

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. Teensey bit suggestive, but mostly fluff!

ℳ𝒾𝓂𝒾’𝓈 𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓈 － I’ve been so inactive due to medical reasons, but I’m back, and currently working on more projects. I love you all so very much, and am beyond grateful for all of the support (300 followers?! Ily)

✩－ With a soft thud, the glass door fell shut behind Matt as he stepped inside, instantly enveloped by the charming surrounding, a faint fragrance of crisp book pages and an aromatic cedar-like essence. Huh, he thought to himself, the weight on his shoulders falling as he took in his atmosphere. Unlike the usual bookstores or libraries that hustled restlessly, and made his heart jump in his chest, this was a sweet contrast.

✯－The idyllic store was faintly lit with a pink hue, soft on the male’s eyes as he glanced at the decor placed around. He felt as if the enchanted looking environment was far more traditional, rather than the bookstores that were designed in a modernized manner. Rustic furniture that he was shamelessly fond of, cozy looking chairs sat at wobbly tables, and a ticking clock.

✩－Matt drew his gaze from the small detailings, smiling at the odd by-passer as he shuffled through the aisles, before he turned toward the right end of the quaint store. Tick tock, tick tock. The clock hung just aside the array of shelves that leaned against the wall behind a large desk, ticking insistently in his mind. Keeping his distance, Matt curiously ran his eyes along the counter with interest.

✯－Pens and markers were sat inside a dusty little organizer, some upside down and others right side up. The comforting melody of ‘Here Comes the Sun’ by the Beatles flooded from the speaker of an old record player, the disc making a little err’ every now and then as the vinyl spun. Thousands upon hundreds of books aligned on the shelves, many collecting dust from the prolonged placement.

✩－Mere seconds passed before Matt swallowed the anxiousness gripping his lungs, eyes flicking around the store as he took a step forward. The male bit down on his lip as someone abruptly dodged in front of the triplet, making him mutter a small “shit”. I guess this place doesn’t attract the most civil customers. “Hey sweetness.” The grey haired male spoke seductively, making Matt’s nose crinkle with distaste.

✯－Suddenly a head popped up from behind the counter, a meek girl standing from her crouched frame. “Two day’s in a row?” She sheepishly chuckled, tucking loose tendrils of hair behind her ear as she nipped at her bottom lip. Uncomfortable, she looked uncomfortable. Matt observed her small movements, becoming uneasy as her hands shook in the slightest.

✩－The man, who was visibly at least ten years older than the girl, placed a hand on the desk. “What can I say? Something’s caught my eye.” He mused, grinning like a fool as he leaned forward. Her lips parted, no words emitting as she stepped back. “Is there a particular book you’re interested in, sir?” Smart girl. Matt felt a smile twitch on his lips as he heard her switch the subject swiftly.

✯－Her eyes widen as the sleezey male points an outstretched finger toward the shelf behind her, quickly flicking her eyes to the area. “What about that one?” Glancing at the array of all the books, she nervously looked back at the smirking man. “Uh－sorry, what one?” Hands nervously wringing together, feeling as if she was failing at her job. Such a simple one at that.

✩－With a careless shrug, Matt lifts an eyebrow at his next request. “Surprise me.” Surprise him? Scoffing, Matt crossed his arms while watching the interaction. The urge the smash the male’s face into the counter was a little too tempting, but the triplet brushed it off as he watched the girl turn around. Looking meek, she stepped a pink sneakered foot onto the latter.

✯－The weak light shone down on her skin irresistibly, Matt’s breath hitching at the sight of something so normal, glimmering with such a provocative tone on her. It was such a captivating sight, his eyes glued onto her hand as iridescent glitters twinkled off of her rings as she plucked a book from the shelf. Was this one too romantic? But this one would be to much Sci-fi. Gosh, why couldn’t he have just picked a book?

✩－Matt watched as the unknowing girl flicked through the books, before glancing at the grey haired man whose eyes couldn’t keep off of the girls backside. Disappointed and disgust built in the triplet’s chest as he shrugged off the wall, a sharp glare on his face as he stalked toward the counter. “Fuck outa’ here man.” Matt muttered, the man who bit his lip while looking the girls ass, snapping his eyes in the boy’s direction. “Sorry?” He scoffed, sounding baffled.

✯－ “I said,” the neckline of the male’s shirt got balled in Matt’s fist as he grabbed ahold of the material, his eyes flying open at the contact. “get your eyes off the girl’s ass, and get the fuck out of here.” He counted in his head, one, two, three, four－rolling his eyes, the older man shrugged off Matt’s hand, storming away with a scowl.

✩－ “I’m not too sure if this one－” Stepping down from the latter and turning around, the girl was expecting to meet eyes with the odd man from before. Instead, the uneasy feeling that swirled in her belly came to a stop as she met eyes with a brown haired man. Matt cocked his head while looking at the girl, nonchalantly smiling her way as if he hadn’t just shocked the life out of her. “I’m not really into the whole ‘romance’, thing.” The triplet joked.

✯－Slowly parting her lips, she drew her eyebrows together in perplexity. Matt’s face dropped a little, clearing his throat as he waved at the book she held. “The book － I meant.” Oh. She felt warmth flood to her cheeks at the realization, blowing out an airy laugh as she glanced down at her shoes. “No?” He hummed, smirking with amusement as he gently shook his head. “Can I ask why?” The murmur made his heart flutter.

✩－Cute. He thought to himself. “Why do you like it?” Matt drew out, forearms lazily falling on the desk as he leaned over a bit. The girl bit her lip in temptation, eyes flicking to his hands that rested on the counter. Veins outlined the soft skin of his hands, two rings on the fingers placed aside his middle and ring. Slim, she thought, the sinful thought leaving her breathless. Clearing her throat, she shifted her gaze up to Matt’s heated one. “Who’s to say I do?”

✯－Matt opted to leave her waiting for a moment, too caught up in his own mind to put together a proper response. The way her lips moved was a fascinating allure, the sight of it playing over in the triplet’s mind over and over until he felt the heat flutter in his abdomen. Fuck, not now. “Just a hunch.” Flicking his blue eyes to her neck, he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Pretty,” he whispered to himself, just loud enough for her to hear.

✩－The girl’s heart locket rested sensationally against her flawless clavicle, a mouthwatering sight to the boy as his hungry gaze took in her enticing character. Tilting her head with curiosity, she spoke. “Tell me.” Matt lifted an eyebrow, seeing the perfect twinkle beneath the surface of her lustrous eyes.

✯－He silently admired her for a moment too long. “Tell you what?” Was he really making her do this? The girl peered into Matt’s eyes with an indescribable look, before sighing. “The hunch.” Ah, there it was. Matt tipped his head back with a soft chuckle, nodding a bit,“Well, for starters,” he waved a hand around her neck. “that.” The pink ribbon that was weaved snuggly around her neck got tugged at by her index finger as she dipped in under the satin, making a small ‘ah’. “It gives off a very .. romantic, look.” He explains, watching as her eyes lit up. She liked hearing that.

✩－ Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, her head tipped to the side as giggled softly. “Romantic?” Matt hummed, a smile of his own growing on his lips. “Mhm.” Fair. The girl absentmindedly toyed with the fabric as she looked into his eyes shyly, feeling a tad intimidated by his heavy gaze. “What else?” So unprofessional, she thought to herself, but her smile didn’t die down.

✯－ He pondered for a second, before answering without a beat missed. “You picked that particular book without knowing what the customer would think,” Matt started, watching as not only her eyes took everything in, but how her facial expressions changing with every word. “meaning that you probably were thinking of what you would’ve liked to be chosen, if you were in their place.” As his explanation came to an end, the girl felt speechless.

✩－Her heart swooned at the male’s interest in her, feeling special almost. It was a safe bet to say that her store didn’t attract the most intriguing men, especially not ones that would ever take such an interest in her of all girls. She was awkward, and said all of the wrong things － and probably should’ve spent all of the time she spent reading, out having a social life.

✯－And if anyone were to get that, it would be Matt. The two individuals shared the glimpse of each other’s stares for a while, the silence never awkward, and always deep. So much behind the surface of one look, an untold story swirling in the distance. Drifting from her irresistible gaze, Matt’s eyes fell on a small homely looking tote bag that sat behind the desk, a stack of books poking from atop. “What’re those?” The triplet mused, watching as her face lit up.

✩－ “Oh.” Peeking a look behind her, she felt embarrassment fill her body as she caught sight of her tote bag, various books of her own open to the eye. “Yeah..” Her hand reached up to nervously itch at her freckled cheek, seeing Matt’s smirk grow at the slightest. “it’s just a few I’ve been meaning to read on my breaks.” As her lips moved in the shy like allure, Matt fell something erupt in his heart.

✯－A tranquil mix of fresh air and adoration sinking into his chest while he melted into her gaze. There was something so simple about the way the two individuals caught up in conversation, neither of them having to even think before speaking. It was almost too easy, Matt pondered. “Have any recommendations?” The triplet inquiries, tilting his head with a curious expression.

✩－She bit down on her lip, hiding a grin. “You don’t like what I like.” Matt’s eyebrow rose with surprise at the bold statement, leaning in closer as he huffed out a sound of amusement. “And what is it that you like?” She’d really done it now. Warmth spread across her cheeks, pink tinting the soft skin as she unknowingly seduced the male with her star-struck eyes.

✯－ Butterflies pressed against her gut as she thought about all of the obscene things she’s read in all of her years, the sinful details written on cedar pages as she bit her lip while imagining all of the things happening to the female character, were taking place on her body. Only this time, the girl was thinking about him. The mysterious man across the counter dragging his calloused finger tips across her bare torso, slowly gliding down her dewy skin until he thumbed at the rough material of her lace undergarment. She could practically feel the chills going down her spine at the mere thought of him whispering sweet nothings against her ear. “Takin’ like the good girl you always were, huh?” It seemed too real to fantasize.

✩－A small －sick, part of the girl knew that if Matt was to demand or request something, that she’d comply without a second thought. Not in the sense of being forced, but because deep down something inside of her ignited with a burning need to please every time she met his eyes. And if anything, to the girl, submission was trust. Such a poorly portrayed dynamic in the books she read, but some aspects she found herself drawn to.

✯－ Swallowing the lump she felt in her throat, she gained the strength to fiercely look into the male’s domineering eyes. “I don’t mind romance.” She murmured, cocking her head with a shy glint in her eyes. Matt, already having caught onto this, urged on. “Yeah?” At her nod, “and what kind of romance, kid?” The inquiry came out in a condescending manner, making the girl’s thighs squeeze together shamefully.

✩－The way her shoulders tensed was all Matt needed to know, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he ran a hand down his jaw. “Not so innocent, huh?” Her eyes narrowed in defiance, shooting him a small glare. “Do I look innocent?” Matt shrugged carelessly, the diamond pierced through his ear glimmering with a gentle shine as he looked off. “Look, yes. Inside ..” Lifting a brow, Matt’s lips tipped up. “Not for a second.” Like he would know, the girl thought to herself.

✯－ Rolling her eyes playfully, a hand ran through her tangled hair with a sigh. “Yeah, because you’re inside me.” She says in a sarcastic manner, eyes widening as she realized what she’d actually said. Her hand halted from its place in her hair as she blanked. Oh my god － cheeks going red, she blew out a breathy laugh. “that is not what I meant －all I was saying was,” Matt listened patiently as she rambled, hooded gaze glued on her as she waved her hands around, making excuses for the silly slip up she’d made.

✩－Physically, innocence practically radiated off of the girl. The pink converse with frilled socks, a little skirt that often rid up her lustrous thighs, sending Matt into a whirlwind of arousal. Though, under all of the ribbons and pearly little bracelets, the sinful persona she hid under the faux innocent facade came eye to eye with the male. Did she think he was oblivious to it? Or maybe she knew, and was being a cute little tease.

✯－Shocked from his daze, Matt looked up as a book was plopped down onto the counter with a thud. The Love Hypothesis, he read, eyes that held a curious glint lifting to meet the girl’s timid one’s. “And what’s this?” He drawled out, watching as she girl offered a little shrug while flicking her eyes away momentarily. “Your recommendation.” So fucking cute. Matt huffed out a small chuckle, placing his hand atop the book. “Well aren’t you a doll?”

✩－The book was a makeshift pedestal for Matt’s larger hand, showcasing the silver glittering rings woven around his slim fingers, and veins that were littered gorgeously over his rough skin. Her heart fluttered with an indescribable warmth, as well as heat coursing through her core at the sight that gave too much attraction. Lifting her eyes to the unknown man, she finally uttered the words. “What’s your name?” She whispered in a melodic note, tilting her head gently.

✯－Flattening his palm onto the hardcover book, he slowly slid it across the counter and into his arm. “Hm..” Tucking his bottom lip into his mouth, he took a step back from the counter with a hidden smirk. “Maybe you’ll find it somewhere in those books you like to read.” Matt murmured, winking playfully as he walked from the gleaming class doors.

✩－And later that evening, just as the last gust of wind swished through the door that now held a CLOSED sign, the girl had found herself unraveling untold stories that made her heart erupt with blooming flowers. Bottom sat on a small stool, and a misplaced book sat in her lap as her palms folded the cover open with a little sigh. Swoop. Just as the book opened, a small paper slipped from dust-cover with ease.

✯－Her eyebrows came together with confusion as she plucked the folded sheet from the floor. ‘This was in the non-fiction isle, right next to a small piece of paper that has my number, which is also non-fiction.’ Corny, she thought, placing her palm over her lips to blow out a breathy giggle. Matt, it signed at the bottom, the name followed by a cheesy smile breaking across the girl’s lips.

✩－Too many more inked stories to come.

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓈 － @fratbrochrisgf @jetaimevous @sturnstvr @sturnrc @stonermattsgf @imwetforyourmom @st7rnioioss @endereies @pkfferoo @mqttittude @mattsbrowser

[a-simple-imagine]

Pass Me By

Synopsis: Jordan doesn't wanna date you but no-one else can either.... based on this prompt by @poppy-metal

pairing: jordan li x fem!reader

words: 2.9k+

WARNINGS - swearing, suggestive themes, alcohol, insecurities about gender and just a hint of a toxic situationship

It's a tranquil, cosy night under the relaxing sound of rainfall rattling against the glass windows that do not open. faint moonlight bathes the room in a divine glow. this wasn't your dorm room but a place you knew all too well. from the collection of beer bottles starting to form across their desk to the joint buds in the ashtray. a guitar sits collecting dust in the corner. you've never seen them play it or so much as acknowledge it. a skateboard balanced on the shelf for decoration more than anything. The room always has this pleasant smokey cologne lingering in the air. it was a messy room. a sort of organised chaos that was so incredibly Jordan li. but you loved it. you'd drown in the ashy mix of cologne and joint smoke if you could because it meant spending time with them. it meant they wanted you here. it meant something. you liked Jordan and they liked you. although they had trouble showing it. you have had that very awkward conversation before but now you avoid any mention of it. they explained they didn't really know what they wanted and at the time, you were fine with that but now you're not too sure. now you kind of wish you could bring it up again and have a grown-up conversation but you're much too scared to face reality. because an ounce of their affection would always be better than none of it. you would rather live in the mystery than feel completely alone.

your head relaxes against their toned, slightly sweaty, chest. fingertips gliding up and down your stomach in a slow steady rhythm. it's delicate. soothing. tickles just a little bit. you could honestly stay like this forever, relishing in their affection. they feel so warm against you. it fills you with such a content, comfortable, feeling. you have been together like this for a while now, listening to them spill secrets in your ear like you're an angsty teenager's new journal. they scribble down all their hopes and dreams; their greatest fears. garnishing the page with pretty stickers and pictures so when they look back, they can't help but smile. it's silly but it makes you feel good. it was such a uniquely intimate moment. nobody knew Jordan the way you did. they didn't allow themselves to be vulnerable too often. perhaps some misguided attempt to seem cool and mysterious. but with you they did and that must mean something, right?

"I don't know," their soft voice fills the otherwise quiet room. "it's really kinda stupid."

"you don't have to tell me," you explain, moving your head to briefly look up at them. "but I'm here if you want."

a warm silence settles over the two of you. you take it as a sign that they don't want to talk about it which is fine. you would never pressure them into talking about anything they're not comfortable with. After a moment, they speak up again. "my powers are such a big part of who I am," their voice is very quiet almost like they're scared to say it. "would I still be this way without them?"

rolling onto your stomach, you finally look up at them properly. his hair is tousled and just a little messy but pretty. no matter what, it always looked pretty. even in the dim light, you can notice the dusting of pink across their cheeks. they seemed content; relaxed. "be what way?" you wonder. jordan's hand that once danced across your skin now rests against the small of your back.

"bigender, obviously."

"I don't know," they wanted an answer you couldn't give to them. identity was such a personal thing." how did you feel when you were younger?"

"I guess it's always been a little confusing,"

"Why are you suddenly questioning it?" you wonder with a slight chuckle. imitating their action from earlier by running your fingers up and down their chest.

"dunno," they shrug. "it's just a little fucked that my powers are just one more thing for people to hate me for."

without powers, Jordan never would have gotten into Godu. and if they hadn't gotten into godu, you'd probably never have met. the world can be a cruel place full of distaste and anger but as selfish as it was, you're grateful for the opportunity to know them. "you're always gonna get people who hate supes."

"yeah, but I mean like people hate that I shift. the whole bigender thing doesn't sell- it's fucking shit." his voice is louder now; firm. "add that to the whole Asian thing and I'm screwed. everything is against me."

"Jordan," you hum softly, stopping your motion. they've always been so confident in their identity. never cared what anyone else wanted from them. it was something you admired about them, so it was almost weird watching them discuss it with such uncertainty. to question something so fundamental to them. you hardly knew anything about yourself. "do you want to know what i think?"

"i guess," he huffs out. a grumpy little guy.

"I don't think it actually matters," you urge, planting a gentle kiss against their sweaty stomach. "maybe you wouldn't have been bigender. maybe you would have. maybe your powers are just a manifestation of who you were always meant to be. at the end of the day, all that matters is who you are now." you lay your head back down against their chest. "and i think they're pretty awesome." with a gentle hum, his arms slide over to hug you against them. guess they were satisfied with that answer.

"Well thanks," he says after a moment. "now if you could just convince the rest of the world to be less transphobic or xenophobic too, that'd be more useful."

"I'll get right on that,"

"parents would be happier. the powers they wanted but none of the gender shit. just their perfect superhero son."

"you are their perfect superhero son." you grin. "you're just also their perfect superhero daughter too. their perfect superhero person."

"you think I'm perfect," he teases.

"I think you're… something."

"hot? sexy? the coolest? what?"

you chuckle. leaning down to kiss their stomach but this time you gently nip the skin. "I'm not gonna feed that massive ego of yours."

"I already know you're obsessed with me," his grasp around you tightens ever so slightly. "can hardly blame you." you smile against them. they were probably right. you wouldn't admit it. "I wish they looked at me the same way."

"fuck them."

"don't talk about my parents like that." Jordan insists. "only I can say stuff like that."

"Sorry," you respond. you can hear their heart beating in their chest. one heart. one beautiful, fucked up person. you let your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sound of Jordan li. "people put expectations on us and that's fucked. just be whoever you want."

"suppose." he mumbles softly. "sorry for being pathetic- no more talking about stupid ass feelings."

"I don't mind." you really didn't. you would listen to them talk about anything. "really."

the thing about being with Jordan is that you're never really with Jordan. it is always very hot and cold. you may find yourself in their bed naked, listening to their confessions but the very next day, they would probably ignore you. you rationalise their reaction by considering it embarrassment. they get self-conscious when it comes to being vulnerable. that doesn't make you feel better in the immediate sense but does allow you to remain hopeful for the future. you often see them around campus but you don't really talk. even if you did, they prefer to act like you hardly know each other. even just a smile is too much for Jordan Li; they prefer a dirty look. occasionally they found the time to text you back but that's hardly anything to write home about. plus you're always the one to initiate the conversation unless they're after something. your friends think they're an asshole. every time you find yourself left on read or longingly stalking their social media, they'd tell you to move on. and that's how you ended up here. at some random dorm party. apparently, the best way to get over them is to find someone new. you didn't want someone new but apparently, that's not a good enough reason to stay home. it's not a bad party. it's actually pretty fun once you relax and stop checking your phone every few minutes. but you should have known that if there was a party, Jordan Li would probably be there looking as radiant and mysterious as ever. a ghost haunting you in a crowd of drunk students. they also seemed to have a way of always knowing exactly where you are. you'd keep catching sight of them when you're getting a drink or talking to someone new. you're supposed to be ignoring them but they're making it very hard.

with a red cup full of the most disgusting beer in one hand, you're sitting on a couch listening to some random guy tell you all about himself. his name was Mike. Matthew? Matthew seemed correct. you don't remember exactly. it is so loud in here. the music wasn't even good. he was handsome though.

"so that's why I decided psychology would be better." he continues to explain his shift in major which had to do with his family. it's a sweet story. he seemed like such a genuine person. "I wanna help people but not through crime-fighting plus that'll give me a chance to work with supes and regular people."

"that's cool," you nod. it came out a little sarcastic but you never meant it that way. you had such admiration for people who wanna use their powers for good. it's not like you wanted to take over the world or anything but rather you had no clue what you wanted. it reminded you of your conversation with Jordan. you have no clue who you are or what you want. "I wish I was smart enough for that. kinda feel like I'm just here at the moment."

"that's fine too like you've got loads of time," he assures you, shuffling a little closer. a hand coming to rest on your arm along the back of the couch.

"that's true," you agree. "I don't know. we'll see, I'm not too worried like it's-"

"hey," you both look up to spy a masculine Jordan Li staring back with their arms crossed over their chest. his expression was indecipherable but fuck, did he look so good. "you gonna introduce us?" why would you introduce them? jordan wasn't part of this interaction and you hardly knew the other guy. Why was Jordan even here? they haven't spoken to you in days. when you don't respond, Matthew takes the liberty of introducing himself. you did remember his name correctly. "I'm Jordan."

"I know- everyone knows. you're in the top ten dude." Matthew is a little too eager. you would think he was the one sleeping with them.

"I am, yeah. can I just borrow," they point at you. "for a sec."

"uh…"

"I'm sorry. I'll be back." as you stand, Jordan clasps your wrist and basically hauls you up and off towards the hallway. you don't bother protesting. they were stronger than you anyway. "what do you want?"

"what are you doing?" voice firm. jordan shifts to his femme form. fluffy short hair becomes an adorable bob. a much smaller frame but arguably more intimidating.

"excuse me?" your brow furrows.

"Are you stupid ?" Jordan asks, in a slightly more aggressive tone. "what are you doing?"

"what do you mean?" you had no clue what was going on right now. "I'm not doing anything."

"that dude is like all over you."

"no, he isn't. We're just talking," you argue.

a humourless laugh. "I know you're not that fucking naive,"

"Why do you even care?" you shoot back. you would hardly consider the conversation you were having the epitome of flirting. sure, there were a few lingering glances and some touching but there wasn't anything wrong with that. at least they were actually interested, unlike Jordan. "you've been ignoring me all week." a flash of surprise across their face that quickly disappears as they turn away from you.

"I've been busy."

"That's what you always say-"

"excuse me for having a life that doesn't revolve around you," Jordan fires back snappily, scowling back at you.

"why are you mad at me?"

"oh, I don't know. blatantly flirting with guys when you know I'm right there is a pretty shitty thing to do."

"I'm not flirting with anyone, we're just talking about our majors," you clarify. "and it's none of your business anyway, it's not like we're together. I can flirt with whoever I want."

"so you admit it." a scoff leaves your mouth. wait. was Jordan Li jealous right now? the same Jordan li who couldn't be bothered to so much as smile at you in the hallway was now mad that you're talking to someone else at a party? you can't help but laugh a little and when they frown in confusion, you laugh a little more.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" you ask, a playful quirk of your brow. "is the infamous Jordan Li jealous?"

"don't be an idiot," they defend, taking a step away and leaning back against the wall. you watch them carefully before following their gaze out into the sea of other people. "why would I be jealous?"

you close the distance once more; leaning in close. you hold their gaze. such soft pretty eyes hold so many secrets. "because you like me,"

"fuck off," Jordan huffs, flinching away from you. "I don't care what you do."

this whole conversation proved otherwise but okay. either way, you were done arguing over it. you were supposed to be focusing on other people not getting wrapped up in Jordan li again. "sure," you comment sarcastically. "I'm gonna get a drink and you're gonna leave me alone." you don't give them a chance to respond; simply walking away in search of a new drink. you half expect them to follow but they don't. with a fresh red cup, you decide to return to Matthew. he seems to have found somebody new to talk to. a tall guy with very distinctive feline eyes. "sorry about that." the boy looks at you, with a confused frown and then back to his friend. That was weird. "are you okay?"

"yeah," a smirk. "I just don't fuck with other people's girls. too messy." with that said, they both walk away. other people's girls? you weren't dating anyone. falling down against the couch, you search the crowd and spot a certain guy sporting a mischievous smirk. surely not. surely Jordan wasn't that much of a dick. when they catch your eye, they start walking towards you

"you look a little lonely over here."

"fuck you." you spit sharply.

"touchy." they hold their hands up in the air to feign innocence.

"you're such a fucking asshole," you grumble. sinking further down into the plush fabric of the couch. you were pissed. not over Matthew specifically. after all, you hardly knew him. but over the fact, that Jordan was so petty. you never expected them to do something as stupid as this.

"I didn't do anything " Jordan claims, a quick shrug of their shoulders. "he was just a dick."

"you told him I was your girlfriend."

"I didn't do shit," Jordan responds casually, shifting into their femme form as they fall down on the couch beside you. you sit forward ready to leave but not quite doing so. "I just decided to come talk to you since you seemed all lonely- sorry for trying to be nice."

"you don't know how to be nice."

"ouch," a playful hand slaps over the heart. "however will I go on" they chuckle, leaning back in their seat.

"fuck you."

"Will you chill out," their hands slide over your shoulders; gently pulling you back and into their awaiting embrace. "that guy was fucking dull as shit,"

"you don't even know him," you huff. no attempt to move out of their embrace; breathing in their perfume. it was surprisingly fruity. not their normal go-to.

"maybe not." Jordan answers. "but I know you." she hugs you against her chest. warm and tight. "I know your body." their hand slips down across your waist to rest upon your upper thigh. leaning in close, her breath is hot against your neck. "that dude could never fuck you as well as I do." whispered in your ear. A tingle spills down your spine. you shift against them, feeling very hot all of a sudden. "we both know it." you swallow hard. You don't know what to say. and frankly, you're worried that if you do they'll hear the tremble in your voice. you definitely don't want them to know the effect they had on you. not right now. not when you're supposed to be ignoring them. a feather-like kiss against your neck before it presses deeper. jordan sinks her teeth into your skin and your mouth falls open. a soft sigh slipping into the air.

"fuck…"

"That's what I thought," hummed against your skin before they pulled away. "so how about we stop playing games and go find somewhere quiet," they gently squeezed your thigh. "yeah?"

Jordan fucking li. they really were a piece of work. and your friends were gonna be oh so disappointed in you.

[lovelytsunoda]

sweet creature// pato o ward

summary: pato is in a romantic mood and wants to make love to his sweetheart around all of her favourite things.

pairing: pato o ward x female reader!

warnings: smut!! pato being an absolute sweetheart. he fucks her in front of a window so she can watch the sunset but the window doesn’t actually overlook and spots where they can be seen

authors note: why do I keep writing other stuff while the arthur leclerc first time fic rots in my drafts and the last two tina series fics are starting to collect dust-

all was calm and quiet in the reading room as she sat with her book, manicured fingers gently flipping the page before she turned to the end, trying not to read the last sentence as she counted how many pages she had left.

truth be told, the smut scenes in this book had been a little much for her. she loved the story and she loved the characters, but the rough intensity of the sex just wasn’t doing it for her. sure, it still had her clenching her thighs together, but if anyone ever spoke to her in the bedroom the way that the male lead spoke to his girlfriend, she was likely to burst out into tears.

sure, she and her boyfriend had experimented with tons things before and they’d probably had sex on almost every surface of the house, but the one reassuring constant was that pato always spoke to her like she was the most important person in the world, how he looked at her like she’d hung the moon, even when he was balls deep inside of her.

and how he was willing to recreate almost any scene in a romance book, putting his own little flair on every scene they tried.

she really didn’t know how she had gotten this lucky.

she had just turned back to the trials and tribulations of josh chen and jules ambrose when she felt two hands clamp down on her shoulders. she jumped, screaming as the book fell from her hands.

“patricio! what the fuck?”

behind her, pato laughed, coming around the ikea couch to settle in beside her, nuzzling his nose into her chest.

“you’re all sweaty.” she whined, but made no move to push him away. “what have I said about taking a shower when you were done conditioning?”

“I just wanted to see my girl.” pato argued halfheartedly, peppering kisses to her neck while he muttered sweet nothings in spanish. “I love you most.”

“love you too, darling.” she smiled, leaning over to kiss him. “I’ve got a new book scene I wanna try.”

patos eyes lit up, and he sat ramrod straight before he leaned down to pick up the abandoned copy of ‘twisted hate’. “can i tell you something?”

“mhm.” she nodded, fingers playing with the hem of her sundress.

“I’ve read this one already.” pato laughed. “I borrowed a copy from coltons girlfriend.”

she laughed, brushing her hair behind her ear. “honey, why would you do that?”

“because I knew that you’d read the first two and I wanted to know why you loved them so much.”

“so you know what scene I want to try?”

“fuck yeah I do.” he grinned, scooping y/n into his arms as he gets up from the couch, spinning gently in a circle before placing her back on her feet, his hands sliding up the skirt of her dress to grip her ass gently. “lean back against the bookshelf, corazon.” he kissed her softly, his nose tracing a path across her skin until his warm breath touched her ear. “just let me make you feel good.”

she backed towards the bookshelf, pulling pato towards her by the hem of his workout shirt. feeling the shelf hit her back. she leaned up to kiss him, all tongue and teeth as his wandering hands gripped her skin, his tongue exploring her mouth.

“you’re so sexy.” pato muttered, trailing kisses across her collarbone as she moaned gently, resting her head against the ikea shelf, one leg curling around her lovers.

patos hand slipped between her legs, cupping her core in his palm, her breath hitching at the contact.

“I hear you, love. im right here, just relax for me.” pato murmured, hands slipping under the waistband of her floral panties as he sank to his knees.

he looked up at her with his wide, hazel eyes, hair mussed as he began to slowly trail her panties down her legs. the look in his eyes made her heart melt. the look of love, the look he gave her when he was so utterly smitten that he didn’t even have the words to explain it.

she rested one leg over his shoulder, her face flushed as pato threw her panties off to the side, the whole world shrinking down to the point where all that mattered was the two of them. he kissed up her thigh, gently massaging her skin with the hand that was holding her leg in place.

“babe, be careful, what if I lose my balance?” she laughed lightly, taking her fingers through his hair, using the other hand to hike up the skirt of her sundress.

“I’ll catch you before you hit the ground.”he answered matter of factly. “you know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

the moment his tongue touched where she needed him most, every worry or apprehensive thought evaporated. she leaned back against the bookshelf, moaning as her lover moved his tongue in slow, deliberate circles. she felt every sensation in nerves down to her toes.

as he picked up the pace, adjusting his angle to suck her clit into his mouth, she dropped the hem of her dress, nails scraping against particle board as she tried to keep herself steady.

“fuck, right there. god, I love your tongue.”

“it does so many wonderful things, doesn’t it?” pato laughed, pulling away to look up at her with a cheeky grin, his hair messy and staticky from the fabric of her dress.

“yes, now please put it back inside me.”

“you’re cute. I just want to give you things. like kisses and orgasms.” pato hummed, slipping his tongue between her folds, closing his eyes in a moment of bliss as he worked his tongue inside of her.

she moaned, closing her eyes and tilting her head back, gently grinding against patos face, his tongue still working in and out of her as one of his hands came up to hold hers, her fingernails digging into the back of his hand.

“oh, babe, I think I’m close.”

“just let go, darling. I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

pato held her tightly, moving her hips gently against his face as he helped her through her high, evidence of her orgasm coating his face as he let her go, placing her shaky leg back on the ground as he stood up, wiping his face off on the bottom of his workout shirt before kissing her softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” she laughed gently, pressing her body against his. he was hard, his cock poking at her body through his under armour sweats. “look at the sunset. it’s beautiful.”

pato smiled, pulling away from the hug to look out the picture window, where the sky was lit up in pink and orange as the sun began its descent. “it’s not as beautiful as you are.”

“aren’t you romantic.” she laughed, leaning over the back on the couch to watch the sun sink behind the trees, propping up her chin with her hand.

pato hugs her from behind, gently pressing kisses to her shoulders. “I have an idea.” he says in a sing-song tone.

“oh yeah?” she asks, a lilt of nonchalance in her voice as she places one of her hands over his. “what is it?”

“this.” pato says simply, pressing his hard on up against her bare ass, hiking her dress skirt up her waist. “let me make love to you in the sunlight, pretty girl. let me make you feel pretty.”

she giggled, leaning back against him as he started to undo the drawstring on his sweats. “take it away, lover boy.”

“with pleasure.”

he rolled his hips, slipping his cock inside of her in one solid movement. she braved her body against the back of the couch, their bodies illuminated by the setting sun as pato pulled her in by the waist, resting his head on her shoulder.

“fuck, pato, I love your cock.” she moaned, reaching behind her head to tangle her fingers in his hair, bucking her hips back against his.

he kept the gentle, soothing pace, thumbs rubbing circles on her skin as he kissed her neck.

“te amo, querida” pato spoke soft, sucking a hickey into her neck.

they would keep it up until the sun went down, going for another round tangled in the plush blankets on the floor, staring at the stars and laughing about nothing and everything.

and she knew that this was the way she would want it to be forever.

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @thatsdemko @oconso @lorarri @httpiastri @clemswrld @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @scuderiasundays @silverstonesainz @userlando

[your-favblondie]

'*•.¸♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬♡¸.•*'

(This is one of my first times writing in the past few years and my first time writing in this way so please give me any criticism and any tips you guys may have!! Now on to the story :3)

Word Count: 625

Thank you to everyone who participated in the poll. Our winner was everyone's favorite emo, Choso!! I hope you enjoy the story and if you did leave a like or a comment down below!

Choso is soo sweet but also soooo sooo inexperienced in his relationships.

He probably has only dated one or two people before you if you aren't his first relationship.

He texts like a Victorian gentleman, uses no slang, and has perfect punctuation.

"Hello Sweetheart, I hope this message finds you well. Tell me how your day has been? Love, Choso"

His room is like a teenager's room, with posters and little collections of his favorite things, and on a shelf above his desk, he has pictures of you and his brothers, plus any gifts you've ever given him! (super sentimental) Has a matching couple's bracelets sitting on his desk for you two. ( Shhh he's gonna surprise you)

He's a very clean person! ( no dust shall cover his room) The type to always offer to help with dishes if he eats at another person's house.

Gives you little flowers he found and if you're going on a trip and he won't see you for a while he'll dry some flowers inside a book and give them to you! (he'd also do this on the regular for you and make bookmarks for you if you're an avid reader)

his love language is def gift-giving and touch!! holds your pinky with his, lets you hold onto his arm when you're out in public, and holds you from behind while you're talking with other people.

When he's sick he'll try and hide it because he feels like getting sick makes him weak and useless. ( Once you realize this you'll have to persuade him to let you take care of him. )

At the start of the relationship, I'd feel like he wouldn't be very into PDA mostly because he isn't all too used to it and hasn't been exposed to other couples doing PDA in front of him. But after a few years, it'll be the exact opposite problem will cling to you like a koala bear. Hugs from behind, sweet neck kisses, arm hung loosely around your waist, etc... He can't be away from his darling for too long or he might die!!

uses dramatization for humor, it started off as his version of trying to be sarcastic after you explained to him sarcasm. But he didn't quite catch on...

" Be careful Choso!" you called out to him as he pushed off to the ice skating rink. Recently the icey weather has made it possible to open up a skating rink so you and Choso decided to go and give it a try. Choso says he's great at skating since he and his brothers skated all the time at their non-ice skating rink. You tried to explain to him that they weren't exactly the same but didn't have the heart to break his confidence. Now you rush to put your skate on as your boyfriend waits patiently, well about as patient as a puppy, for you to join him. " let's go," he says holding your hand gently as you both step onto the rink, and for a second you think he might be okay. For a second only though... CRASH Now you stare at your boyfriend whose face planted right onto the ice and was still lying on the rink not being able to get up. as he keeps slipping back down your laughter only grows, you reach your hand out to him to help him steady himself, "I think you may be the greatest skater I've ever seen hunny" You tease. As he rises his face is full of confusion and he turns to look at you. "Baby I think to be a good skater you have to be able to stand?" He corrects you. "I'm being sarcastic chos- " "What is sarcastic?"

now every time he sucks at something he quickly jokes that he is the absolute best at it

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I plan on continuing writing when I have the chance so please leave suggestions in the comments down below! I would greatly appreciate it! I may even do an NSFW ver. of Choso headcannons.

[dduane]

Today's small mystery

Reshelving some books that got out of their normal shelf in the upstairs bedroom, with the usual side revelations: (a) I need ebook copies of all the [Insert Color Here] Fairy Books, as it'd be good to have a collection of searchable texts*; (b) I need ebook copies (implying searchable texts) of the entire C.S. Lewis collection, as hunting for one of the more obscure quotes online is a waste of time that could be spent doing useful things like baking, or on creating crap renders of the recalcitrant manes of local demigods: (c) Hmm, some of these have bookmarks stuck in them. I wonder what those are about...?

I went through two or three books that had marks in them (blank sticky notes, usually), and in all but one case was able to figure out why I'd marked them, and make a note elsewhere of their content and implications. (I've been flirting with getting into Obsidian to see if it helps me stay on top of this kind of issue, but am not sure I really need it yet.)

This one, though, has left me baffled. It might have simply been where I paused in my reading... but that's not usually how I use my bookmarks. Normally I place them as a reminder that there was something on that page or spread that needed my attention for some reason, or was related to something else that was going on in life, or writing, or something. In this case... now all I have to try to recall is exactly what the issue was.

The bookmark tells me that we're almost certainly talking about something I was reading in 1994, because it's a train ticket from the 5th of September in that year, which I bought on the train (because there's no "from" marking on it), while heading to Wicklow Town. ("Cill Mhantain" is Irish for Wicklow.)

...The book is the Abbey Classics edition of Petronius's Satyricon: the Burnaby translation of 1694. (Interestingly, the National Library of Ireland has the same edition I do. Though I bet theirs is in better condition.) This is what we'd think of as a paperback, though it's actually bound with a soft cloth binding and has a paper dust jacket. (A scan of the front cover and front flap is below.) There are a lot of places I could have picked this up used in Dublin, but my guess is that it comes from one of a number of trips to Hay-on-Wye.

...And here are the pages where the train ticket was stuck in: a passage from the middle of Trimalchio's feast.

So now all I have to do is work out why I marked those pages... thirty years ago. (eyeroll) Yay.**

Something to occupy myself while I go off and make a flammkuchen...

*They're all online at Gutenberg, so that's all right.

**Though looking at the obscure idiom/metaphor "She's a very Pye at his Bolster," I wonder if it was something to do with that. ETA: So the thing to do when you run into a phrase like this in translation is to check another translator and see what they've got. It hadn't occurred to me on first glance that "Pye" wasn't a culinary reference, but a contraction of "magpie". And surprise, the 1913 Heseltine translation at Tufts' Perseus Digital Library has this as "a magpie belonging to a sofa": i.e. a bird that "henpecks" you in your own bed. Ow.

[steddieasitgoes]

It’s Mother’s Day 1973 and Steve’s mom isn’t home.

Instead of spending the day with her only son, she’s left to follow her husband on his latest business trip. Steve doesn’t remember where she’s going, just that she promised to bring him back a snow globe for his collection. The one that sits on the highest shelf the bookcase in his room — collecting dust.

He’s been pawned off to his nanny again. Poor Ms. Anderson who has put her own middle-aged life on hold to raise a kid whose not hers. Steve’s not stupid. He knows his parents pay her well to take care of him, but he still wishes she’d tell them off. At least, put up a fight, so she didn’t have to spend all her weekends with him.

Usually the duo stay cooped up in the Harrington’s House. Ms. Anderson will cook him a nice meal and they’ll spend the afternoon playing games or watching movies. She’ll fall asleep early in the movie and Steve will disappear to play with his toys or snoop through his parents things to try to figure out where they’ve gone this time.

Today’s different though.

It’s Mother’s Day, after all.

Today, Ms. Anderson has taken him to Roane Hill Cemetery. She lets him hold a massive bouquet of pink carnations as she gathers a picnic blanket and basket from the back of her car.

“What are we doing here?” Steve asks, struggling to keep pace with Ms. Andersons determined steps.

“Visiting my mom.”

“But isn’t she…” Steve doesn’t finish the sentence.

“Yeah,” she says, spreading out the blanket next to a small gravestone. “But just because someone’s gone doesn’t mean they’re out of our lives. Coming here makes me feel connected to her.”

Steve doesn’t understand that. 

How can Ms. Anderson feel connected to her dead mom if she can’t even look at her? He doesn’t even feel connected to his own mom when she’s in the same room as him.

Maybe it’s a girl thing, he thinks.

Steve sits down quietly, after that. Ms. Anderson clearly needs this visit and Steve’s not going to interfere with her plans. Not when said plans get him out of the house for the first time in a week. So he sits and listens to Ms. Anderson talk to the headstone. Watches as she digs out a small flower pot in the ground to place the flowers in.

It’s only when she ducks her head in a prayer that Steve decides to explore.

“Don’t go too far,” she warns. “And be mindful of others!”

The cemetery is full of older people. Some sit on blankets like Ms. Anderson with gorgeous flowers and picnic baskets full of food, ready to spend hours with their departed mothers. Others, stay for a few minutes. Set down flowers and tap headstones before ducking their heads while retreating to their cars.

There’s laughter and tears and Steve doesn’t know how to feel about all of it, except lonely.

He wishes there was someone his age around here.

Steve ventures deeper into the cemetery, where the trees are taller and fuller. Older, Steve thinks. It’s through a small clearing that he spots a boy about his age sitting in front of a headstone. An older man stands behind him, a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

He’s too far away to know for sure, but he’s pretty sure the boy is talking to the headstone. Head tilted forward, shoulders hiccuping up and down like the boy is crying. Steve wonders who he could be visiting. Certainly not his mom, right? He’s much too young to not have a mom — Steve should know.

He watches as the little boy leans forward and kisses the headstone and Steve realizes it must be.

Steve must make a sound, a gasp or a small cry because the boy and the older man’s head whip around in his direction. He’s still too far away to hear, but he can tell the man is telling the boy something. Whispering in his ear before nodding his head in Steve’s direction.

He should leave. Ms. Anderson is probably done with her prayer now and she’ll be worried if he’s not back soon, but he can’t leave. Not when he spots the little boy trudging through the tall grass towards him.

“Are you lost?” the boy asks.

Steve shakes his head.

“What are you doing all the way out here then?”

Steve shrugs. “Was that… were you talking to your mom?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, looking over his shoulder. “Uncle Wayne says it’s good to come talk to her ‘cause she gets lonely too. Are you here for your mom?”

“Oh no,” Steve says. “My mom is, well she’s not here but—”

“Do you want to help me?” Eddie asks, before Steve can finish it. “Wayne wants me to go find a yellow flower in the field over there. It’s so big I could use some help.”

“Sure!” Steve says, happy to finally have someone his age to talk to. “But why yellow?”

“It’s my mom’s favorite color!” Eddie smiles. “She said, she always felt like the sun was touching her when she wore it. It was her happy color.”

Years later, when Steve and Eddie have reconnected and they’re going through Steve’s closet to find items to donate, Eddie will ask Steve why he has so many yellow sweaters.

“It makes me feel like the sun, warm and happy,” Steve says, smiling softly. “I used to wrap myself in yellow whenever my parents left me home alone.”  

And it’s then and only then do the two of them realize they met long before they crossed paths in the halls of Hawkins High and even longer before portals to hell-like dimensions open.

[enderwoah]

im so unwell about q!pac no its not even funny anymore i need to put him in a terrarium up on a shelf and keep him safe up there. he doesn't deserve any bad thing, ever. i don't even care about "having a good story" or "giving your character a conflict" anymore, nah, no, if ONE (1) MORE BAD THING HAPPENS TO HIM IM GONNA LOSE IT!! IM GONNA START BREAKING THINGS!!!

he's so. sad. hes such a sad character. his insecurities about being useless to everyone are so real and so painful because he's not, all of us know that he's not, but we also completely understand why he feels that way because he's had everyone he loves ripped away from him and he hasn't been able to lift a finger to stop any of it. he's just left to sit in the ruins without any help. he's collateral to all the tragedy surrounding him and the favela 5 in general and he's. tired. not in the way that cellbit is tired (though that works, too). he's exhausted of feeling sad all the time. of crying all the time. of feeling that loneliness that gnaws holes into his bones and settles in the marrow and never leaves, not when richas' bed is empty, not when mike's bedroom has started to collect dust, not when he can't see a real, tangible presence in forever's dilated eyes. the only person he has is cellbit, and he could never ask cellbit to give up what he still has when pac has nothing to lose (and god, how selfless, how kind is that?), so when he figures the only way to get an antidote to the drug is to have the drug itself, why wouldn't he offer himself up? and if that wasn't the only reason he tried to get his hands on it, who could blame him?

maybe he took it first to just feel the effects and understand the angle it took in affecting his mind. maybe he just took it for research. do you think he had slipped by the second time? do you think he took it once and, for a short thirty minutes, found that he could forget about all the sorrow lining his lungs and breathe? do you think reality crashed back onto him after that first try? do you think he was scrambling to take it again, to go back to that...maybe it wasn't blissful ignorance, per se, but willful disregard? do you think he couldn't wait to be submerged so deep that he couldn't think one more time? do you think he was hesitant? do you think he kept promising himself, one more, one more, one more...

god he is so. so sad. i was watching phil's pov, so everything was like a neat little movie for me, and just. cellbit and forever arguing while pac was just sobbing in the background was AWFUL. just. awful. it hurt. (cc!pac was damn good at acting, too, and that DID NOT HELP.) the moment he stepped on the trap i felt like i was hit with a brick. like no, of COURSE we should NOT be putting PAC in a CONFINED JAIL CELL. ALONE. and i know it was for his own good but i still felt so so so sick. the way he immediately curled up in the corner. the way he was crying to himself. the way he instantly answered richas' birthday the moment bad asked for it. the way he got visibly more upset and terrified when cellbit started shouting at forever. what the hell. no seriously what the HELL.

and, like, oh my god, making him the one to solve the antidote? proving that even though he may have fallen to the drug (the drug which was basically created by GODS, by the way, lets be real, the federation is nawt normal), he's still so useful. he's still such an asset. he's smart and he's kind and he's charismatic and he's trusting and he's so so selfless and so so brave and so strong. tubbo put it perfectly. the fact that he's gone through all the horrible awful stuff he's gone through and he's still standing just proves how capable he is. how tough he is. cellbit calling him "my dear." pointing out the fact that he sacrificed himself without knowing he was going to come back. "i'm only afraid of being sad again." "you will be sad again. but you won't be alone." he's so. he's just. he's. im frothing at the mouth. he gave himself up to save the rest of the island from this plague that took one of his best friends and might've taken the entire island if he didn't do anything. under that stress. experiencing that level of loss.

pac is one of the toughest goddamn people on the island and if anyone on that server even dares try to imply otherwise i will do heinous heinous things, mark my WORDS.

[demonforthesemen]

@vainjaytomatoredd a little while ago you replied on my toxic possessive radioapple post saying that you had expected angst (though you weren't upset by the funny). And I was like. I'm a clown first and foremost but toxic possessive radioapple does deserve angst. I must try my hand at this.

So consider with me: Alastor and Lucifer in a relationship, doesn't really matter how long - what matters is that Lilith comes back after it's already started. And she wants her husband back.

Deep down inside, Alastor knows that he should probably talk to Lucifer about this. Tell him he just wants him to be happy, give him the space to make a decision on what exactly he wants to do. It would be the gracious thing to do. But the only things gracious about Alastor are his manners, when he chooses to use them. He's in hell for several reasons, and one of them is the fearsome possessiveness he refuses to control.

If he were to tell Charlie the story of how he killed his father because the man hurt Alastor's mother, her naive, optimistic mind would undoubtedly pretty it up, turn it into a tale of a tragic antihero of a boy who just wanted to protect his dear mommy. The truth is, he didn't do it because the woman had been his mother, but because she had been his mother. She was his, and the brute she called a husband had dared damage what was Alastor's. Killing the man had been recompense for Alastor, no one else.

And now, nearly a century later, he's ready to get rid of Lilith in any way he knows how, because Lucifer is his, and she who left him broken and suffering will not get him back. Her intentions might or might not have been noble, she might even love Lucifer, but what is her paltry, sweet love in comparison to Alastor's ownership? If she wanted to keep the king on her shelf, she shouldn't have discarded him and let him collect dust.

What is it children say? Oh yes: finders keepers, losers weepers. And oh, does he intend to make her weep.

[hederasgarden]

Just Pretend

Summary: For a moment, Six thinks about how his life could be different.  Paring: Sierra Six (Court Gentry) x F!Reader Word Count: 700 Rating: 18+ only. Mild violence. Six does watch the reader without her knowledge but it's all above board. A/N: This is based on my thoughts about how Sierra Six would 100% have a housewife kink. Thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for looking over this story. 

Masterlist ♡ The Grey Man Masterlist

Six doesn’t mean to watch you. 

He knows it’s wrong, a violation of privacy, but after all the awful things he’s done, it seems small by comparison. Each time he finds his eyes drawn to you he promises himself it’s the last. It’s a lie of course because being stuck in a safe house for weeks on end, there isn’t much else to do. You live in the apartment next to the mark he’s collecting intel on. The blinds to your living room and bedroom are always drawn but he can see clearly into your kitchen where you spend most of your time.

It’s oddly relaxing to see you do mundane things like cooking dinner or baking cookies. You spend your mornings before work reading from your tablet and drinking tea at the little table you’ve wedged under the large window. Sometimes you’ll do the crossword there on Sundays, nose scrunched up as you solve the riddles and pencil in your answer. There’s a row of potted plants on the shelf that you take meticulous care of, watering them and cleaning the dust off their leaves with a damp cloth weekly. 

He loves the cooler days the best when you’ll throw open the window and he can hear the soft music you play and catch the smell of whatever you’re cooking. You’ve been baking more recently, experimenting with decorating cupcakes and cookies. Six admires the concentration it takes to sit, bent over a table to painstakingly create intricate designs for long stretches of time. He imagines you giving treats to your coworkers and friends. He knows they'd taste good, infused with the love and dedication you pour into them.

As far he can tell you don’t have anyone important in your life, at least that lives close by. You’re home every day by 5:30 pm on the dot and on the weekends you only seem to leave for groceries, although he’s seen two different men walk you back to your apartment in the evening. You never kiss or invite them up but you wear pretty sundresses that cling to all the right places on your body. Six is quick to push away that kind of thought. That’s dangerous territory. It’s bad enough he’s spying on you without your knowledge. 

This afternoon it looks like you’re making pasta and homemade bread. His stomach growls at the thought of warm, buttery bread. For a moment he lets himself fantasize what it would be like if he could share a meal with you, to be the person you spent hours cooking for. He likes to think you’d be the type to watch him take the first bite, anxious to see if he liked the new recipe. You’d probably smile and shyly look away when he complimented you, secretly pleased. 

Six thinks about cleaning up after dinner with you, the quiet, comfortable way the two of you would move around the small kitchen together. He'd wash and dry the dishes while you put away the leftovers. Afterward, the two of you would curl up on the couch and watch a movie. Six is willing to bet money you have a collection of soft blankets to burrow under. You'd probably fall asleep before the movie ends, head pillowed against his shoulder, and sleepily protest when he says you should go to bed. 

Before his thought can go further, a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye has him swinging the scope sharply to the right. It's the target, emerging from his apartment for the first time in weeks. The older man yawns and stretches, unaware he's being watched.

Six sighs, and flips open the shitty old Nokia phone he was given for the mission. 

"Target confirmed."

"10-4. Execute. Exfil will be waiting in the south alley," the faceless voice on the other end of the line commands. 

"Understood," Six replies, dropping the phone and grinding it under the heel of his boot. 

Before he can help himself, he looks back at your open kitchen window. You take a sip of wine and bite into a piece of bread, eyes closing with a smile as you savor the taste. His gaze lingers, longer than it should before he forces himself back to the task at hand. 

He takes slow, even breaths and leans his shoulder into the butt of the rifle, squeezing the trigger. The man topples back into the apartment. Below, the street traffic continues, unaware of what just occurred. The urge to look back at you is strong but Six buries it and disassembles his weapon. 

That isn't his life.

 This is and there's no amount of pretending that will change that.

♡

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