#once upon a time matching icons

[manicpixieginger]

matching icons <3

[uzurakis]

N★STYY OVER DA PHONEEE?!

featuring: gojo satoru. geto suguru. fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. itadori yuuji. (characters are all aged up)

NSFW MDNI. what kind of e-sex do they each prefer?

n. should be doing my other reqs but.. i gotta do what i gotta do (they say). have fun <3

GOJO SATORU

you found yourself staring at your phone screen, nerves fluttering as you tapped the icon to start the video call. you had been waiting for this moment, wanting to share something special with gojo, someone who meant a lot to you. as the call connected, you held your breath, hoping he would pick up.

suddenly, his face appeared on the screen. his expression changed from casual to surprised as he took in the view of you.

“how’s my darling doi—whoa,”

holding the phone up so he could see every inch of your cunt, hands already covered in some sticky substance, your fingers slipped down and down again. how embarrassing, he wasn't even with you there, merely over the cellphone, and you couldn't tell how many times you had hit your climax.

“oh my, all for me, you lil’ slut?”

“too slow for my liking, ya know that?”

that increased your arousal in some way, as your yearning fingers sank into your walls for the nth time. taking a quick breath and repeating the speed he had previously wanted you to do, as if it were his, curving them precisely.

“i’ll keep making ya do that ‘til i come home later, alright? then show me what you got, darling.”

GETO SUGURU

suguru: 1 missed call

you chose to call your boyfriend back right away after he called, not sure if it was a serious call. he answered the phone, but didn't say anything until you noticed what was going on. the rustle of fabric and the faint sound of his breath hitching didn’t quite cover the sound of his hand sliding up and down his length. your mind raced, trying to comprehend the situation unfolding through the phone, a mix of confusion and anticipation settling in your chest.

“fuck, missed ya so bad princess,”

“can’t help it.”

now your body was heated, the feelings arise, growing stronger with each groan that came out of his mouth. your fingers moved on its own, paving their way to your clit, those fingers of you played with your pussy. the constant spiraling inside made you aroused.

“suguru..”

“keep goin’ just like that, yeah.”

one of your digits quickened to match the pace he started moving at. though separated by distance, drew you closer, your own breaths and moans growing shallow as you felt the climax getting you.

“‘bouta cum, suguru..”

“let me hear you, princess.”

“s-suguru!”

“so fuckin’ good for me.”

ITADORI YUUJI

your phone buzzed beside you once again. with a sigh, you retrieved it, torn between ignoring the distraction and feeling compelled to check the message. glancing at the screen, annoyance flooded you, it was merely another mundane notification—or not. it was a message from your boyfriend.

baby yuuji <3: 2 attachments

sliding into your messages, there were two videos, with the bedroom linen as its cover. once you played it though, hands slowly going up and down his length, displaying his cock. seeing very carefully as he wax his length with the amount of cum he produced.

“ah–shit, look at what ya make me do, pretty.”

he was calling your name with a moan when you turned up the audio a little. he seemed, irritated? suggesting to you that he had likely been playing with himself all along, maybe waiting for you to be at his side.

“god, wanna feel ya cunt so baad.”

same with the other video, he was all over you while stroking his length and groaning out how you’d make him feel good. you felt like he was testing your patience, the sensation rushed to your every body and goes down to your stomach. maybe it’s time for payback.

you: 1 attachment

you: just as you like it <3

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

you found yourself sinking into the depths of boredom as the hours dragged on. searching for a distraction, your gaze fell upon your phone resting on the table. unlocking your device, you navigated to the camera app. with a playful smirk and a dirty mind, you started experimenting with different angles and poses, ones to send to your beloved boyfriend.

you: hey megs, guess what i’ve been up to ;)

you: 3 attachments

you sent three images of your tits; two with your hand groping them nude, and one with your bra on—in an attempt provoke the man. you were aware that you were playing a game against him when you teased him in this way, since he has a tendency to drop everything and come to screw you over.

when the "delivered" became "read," your brief bliss gave way to a null sense, and to your amazement, he didn't even bother to fucking respond?

what comes next, then? you opened your camera once more and took some pictures of your cunt with two fingers inside of them. you thought to yourself, this will definitely catch his attention.

you: 1 attachment

you: need you inside me, stupid ‘gumi

emo boyfriend: typing…

gnawing down your lips when he finally saw the texts. then a reply came up, didn’t imagine him to answer that fast this time.

emo boyfriend: fuck you.

emo boyfriend: stay there, i’m coming over.

YUUTA OKKOTSU

the familiarity of the day was broken by the sudden buzz of your device, signaling a notification unlike any other from your boyfriend. curiosity piqued, you tapped on the message, only to find a voice note waiting for you.

without any expectations, you pressed play and his voice saying your name filled the room. but as the seconds passed, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. it wasn't just a usual audio message; instead, noises of worked breathing that eventually turn into moans and groans.

“can’t stop thinkin’ bout ya, god,”

“can’t help myself.”

your heart raced as you listened, the voice note seemed to stretch on for an eternity, each moment amplifying your embarrassment. when you listened to the 30 second audio clip again, you noticed how he was pumping his cock, and the last thing you heard was a loud groan of your name as he released his climax.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—“

“please come over, baby.”

@uzurakis — reblogs are very appreciated sweeties xp

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Dinner & Diatribes

❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞

Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.

Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.

It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.

You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye. 

It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app. 

You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened. 

“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.

Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever. 

In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself. 

There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent. 

“So, I’m high.”

“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”

“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”

“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”

Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message. 

“That was weird as fuck, right?”

Then a sixth.

“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”

He finishes up with a seventh message.

“Unless you do…”

He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot. 

Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner. 

Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”. 

Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”

“Be there soon,” you reply with haste. 

It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out.  She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on. 

You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place. 

Finally, you knock. 

Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest. 

“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”

The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer. 

Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.  

Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him. 

“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.

The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.” 

“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.” 

“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.” 

He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him. 

However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”

Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.” 

You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval. 

“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.” 

You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen. 

There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals. 

“Water is fine,” you tell him. 

He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf. 

Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed. 

“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”

“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.

He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”

“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close. 

You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence. 

“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”

“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”

“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension. 

“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.” 

“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”

“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.” 

“I’m listening.”

“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.” 

“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”

“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully. 

“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”

Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.

There’s only one way this night ends.

It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now. 

“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.

His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it. 

The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering. 

It’s good. Better than most. 

Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile. 

“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”

The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter. 

“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin. 

“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side. 

“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.” 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.” 

“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”

“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”

For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.

“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”

His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?” 

“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”

“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.” 

“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”

Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.

It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts. 

Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss. 

His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands. 

“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”

He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. 

Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name. 

Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin. 

“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you. 

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair. 

You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom. 

When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.

Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.

When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.

You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you. 

“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak. 

He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.

You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow. 

“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat. 

You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment. 

Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer. 

“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest. 

"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"

He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”

Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”

Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!” 

He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen. 

“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”

“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.” 

“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”

He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”

“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”

[coralinnii]

Congrats on 2.7k followers!! You deserve it! :D For the event, may I request Malleus, Azul, Jade and Floyd with a gentle giant S/O? As you can already guess, S/O is super tall (you can change this detail if you’d like, but perhaps they’d even be noticeably taller than Malleus?) and maybe even kind of intimidating because of it, but they’re very friendly, quiet, and gentle. 

Again, congratulations on your achievements!! Keep up the great work you’re doing 🥳

‧₊˚✧ My Statuesque Sweetheart ‧₊˚✧

↳ Tall Gentle Giant/Reader

feat: Malleus ❋ Azul ❋ Jade ❋ Floyd genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, I love beluga whales (it’ll make sense in Jade’s ver.),

Sooo…being someone that can’t relate to being tall :I, I went around to ask some of my taller friends to know what’s that like, so this took longer cuz of research. I also got into Genshin to prep for another prompt someone asked me and dang, do I gotta research on that too.

Similar prompt: Tall!reader who loves hugs

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You were certainly a surprise to him. In his long years, rarely does he find people where he doesn’t have to tilt his head down for once.

Despite your height, you were as cute and friendly as a woodland creature, a contrast to Malleus who exudes regal power without much effort. He’s fascinated by you as your stature can command the room yet your energy has a rather soothing effect on him and those around you. 

Man is saying you have zero scary dog energy, and that is adorable to him.

If you’re the affectionate type, congratulations! You’d be one of the few to be able (and allowed) to reach his horns. What started as curiosity soon became a habit as you made it your love language to care and clean Malleus’ iconic features. As a bonus, everytime you are done it’s fun to lay your head gently upon Malleus’, between his horns which catches him off guard no matter how often it happens. 

Having a tall man with money certainly has privileges as you now have access to his personal tailor as well. Was there a pair of pants you really like but it only reached your ankles? Not anymore, let the royal tailor deal with that and add some matching accessories to that. 

However you feel about your height, you are a sublime creature of beauty to Malleus. When he looks up to you smiling at him with the shining moon behind you highlighting your tall outline, he hasn’t seen anyone more otherworldly than you. 

You stand out amongst every human I have encountered. Hm? Ah, I do not refer to your stature but rather… the way you effortlessly capture my attention and ensnare my thoughts with visions of you.

Azul being around an incredibly tall person? What else is new? Azul doesn’t feel all that insecure about his height, before or after meeting you.

Well, you’re definitely the most pleasant person he knows that towers over him, at least. He knows that many, him included, would use your sort of stature as an advantage over others. Instead, he likes your rather sweet nature and way of conduct. 

If you have stretch marks due to your rapid growth spurts, Azul would feel absolutely touched if you trusted him enough to show it. Azul would genuinely praise your resilience to may have been an aching and painful experience to go through. If you let him, he could create a potion to get rid of the marks if it truly makes you insecure, but he finds you beautiful no matter what. 

Watch him flinch and get flustered anytime you wrap your arms around him, smothering him with your taller form. You would laugh to see him so easily out of sorts if you press your weight onto him. He can handle it of course, but the heat of your all-encompassing hugs is vastly different from his time in the cold sea. 

Azul would provide certain things that would suit your needs that others may overlook. Suddenly, you would find blankets that can cover you entirely, or you were gifted a coat that is actually a long coat that doesn’t awkwardly cut off at a weird length on you. Mirrors in Azul’s private room are always suspiciously up to your eye-level whenever you visit. 

He’s happy to know that you see him as someone reliable regardless of that. He has an interesting way of showing his appreciation

Do you like the new decor of the Mostro Lounge? The new additions are quite beautiful and eye-catching. The tall but dazzling designs were inspired by you, after all.

Oh my. What a sight to behold, you are. 

Jade doesn’t seem like the type to brag about his advantageous height, but he is aware that not many can reach his stature and even fewer actually pass him in that regard. 

He still treats you as courteously as he always does, even more so as the two of you start to grow closer. 

A nice bonus about having a tall boyfriend is that most of the things in his room are perfect for you! Beds you can fully stretch out in, actual full-length mirrors that don’t make you bend down, and furniture that doesn’t require you to squish yourself into. Jade’s (and Floyd’s) has become one of your favorite places to visit.

He does find it amusing that some people may find you intimidating because of your height as he knows that you were far from any definition of that word. Jade would chuckle to himself whenever he sees you getting happy or excited, like watching a playful beluga whale squeaking in joy. Your gentle features and bright smile shines through any misconceptions of your intimidating form. 

Though not quite used to it, Jade doesn’t mind having to crane his neck to meet your gaze. Especially not when he could watch your adorable quizzical expression as he asked you to lower your head to him, only to whisper teasing words into your ear. He especially finds it fun to watch you jump to your full height in flustered surprise, even occasionally bumping your head on a hanging decoration. 

Really, how could he resist you? 

Do you need rest, my love? Perhaps a cup of tea can soothe your aches and joints while you sit.

Oh, Floyd would have no issues with you being taller than him. Probably the opposite, really.

Don’t @ me but I fully believe Floyd has a thing for legs, be it his own or others. He’s so fascinated by these human features that you may even catch him blatantly staring appreciatively at your legs. 

“What’s the big deal? They’re right there, who can blame me?”

He will however, with full confidence, laugh his lungs out if you hit your head on the door frame or trip on an ottoman seat you didn’t notice. Maybe he’ll rub the ouchie away but he’ll be laughing while he does.

Be prepared for impromptu fashion shows with custom made shoes to show off your gorgeous mile-long legs. Floyd could spend hours looking through online shopping with you, showing you websites that specifically cater to tall drinks of water like yourself.

This man will be floored by the experience of being the little spoon of a hug. To be able to lean into your arms and rest his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat while you  lovingly pat his hair? You can be unknowingly smothering him and he’ll be loving every moment of it. 

Regardless if you’re confident or not, Floyd loves to take you dancing. If you’re not confident in your dancing, Floyd is more than happy to lead you with every beat until you have fun. The man just loves to see the flashing lights paint your body, with your smile being the brightest of them all.

Did you get taller, Shrimpy? Aha ha, just pulling your leg there! Though, wouldn’t make a difference to me. You’re still a hottie even if you, hehe!

[bluerthanvelvet444]

‧₊˚♫ ⋅* ‧₊✮𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥✮‧₊˚ ⋅*♫ ˚₊⋅

Tate Langdon x fem!reader

tags: smut with a plot and some fluff.

warnings: obsessive behavior, kind of a switch!Tate, oral (f receiving), dry humping, p in v.

summary: Tate encounters a Tumblr girl. (Inspirated a lot by the song I linked under.)

character count: 12k.

full fic under the cut ↓

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

2014.

Tate had never really cared about looking ‘stylish’ or ‘fitting in’ when he was alive. He had his own style, which wasn’t trendy nor one of a kind just…his. He didn’t need anyone else’s approval to believe he was cool, mostly because the girls that were attracted to him were just as fucked up as him and the popular ones tended to ignore him.

Ironical how that changed in his afterlife, once he saw you. After dying, Tate’s time was spent either with the other trapped souls or by himself. Hardly ever people moved in the Murder House, and whether they did, they were a low-budget couple in their 40s. So Tate’s knowledge of the modern outside world was poor and lacking, especially when it came to his ‘peers’. That’s why when you first moved in the house, Tate was stunned, if not flabbergasted even.

You were struggling with carrying your heavy luggage, muttering curses as the wind blew your colorful hair in your eyes. The first word that came in Tate’s mind as he watched you from the front window was “cool.”

He spent the first days of your sojourn watching you from afar, admiring the way you acted. Tate found out the way you styled your outfits in the fashionable way, how you talked to your friends in slangs and how you spent your evenings taking pictures on your polaroid and on a glowing little box, that for some strange reason you called phone, to post (that’s the term you used) on a little blue icon marked with a white t. He didn’t know what was considered popular now, but he was sure you belonged in that category, judging by the way you looked and the way your pictures had high numbers under them whenever you uploaded them. He needed wanted to approach you, and the perfect opportunity showed up when he saw you type on your glowing box:

“PARTY in the MURDER HOUSE tonite!! >_< :33!!”

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

The house had never been so full of alive people having fun. The doors were open, colorful lights were shining and high volume music was blasting. Tate tried blending in, although the more he looked around the more he felt…lame. The drunk teens around him were all different from each other, and none of them matched his vibe. And he even wore his favorite sweater!

Still, he had nothing to lose, so he took a deep breath and searched for you in the crowd. Tate made his way past people as they pushed him to the left and to the right. It felt weird to be seen, to be touched. He found you circled by people asking questions about the house. Was it haunted? Were there ghosts? All of which you answered with a simple “No.”.

“Of course there aren’t any ghosts, I’m keeping them away from you.” Tate thought. Since he was too nervous to actually take a few steps and start a conversation with you, he figured he’d get some punch, just to loosen up a bit. He walked towards the punch bowl, and as soon as he reached to grab a cup, his hand met yours. You both grabbed the same solo cup.

“Sorry! You can have it.” You giggled as you let him take the cup. Tate blinked a few times, eyes locked to your bright smile, before grabbing the cup and filling it up. “Be cool, Tate. Don’t mess it up.” He thought.

“Uh. So…this is your party, right?” He gulped, eyes darting around the house as if he didn’t know every single inch of it by heart.

“Yes! Thought it would’ve been fun to host a party in a so-called Murder House. Plus, this house is giant, it gets lonely after some time…You live near here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you.” You smiled.

“Oh…yeah. My name’s Tate. I live nearby.” Tate’s eyes trailed upon your figure, he had never been able to see you from so close. You simply nodded, sipping from your cup. He cleared his throat.

“You know…I used to live in this house.” He added nonchalantly, trying so hard to sound interesting.

“Really?! No way!” Your giggles rang in his ears.

“Mhm. You probably noticed some of my things still laying around in my bedroom. No one has stepped in since I last did.” He nodded.

“Oh, do you wanna see? Maybe there’s something you left that you want back.” You replied, slightly raising your voice so that it could be heard over the music.

“I uh-There’s no need t-” He was interrupted by you grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs anyways. You opened the door of the bedroom and kicked out a couple that was making out on your bed.

“Ugh!! I should’ve locked the door!” You exclaimed, closing the door behind you two. Tate looked around, some of your things were laying around, but it was mostly all his.

“Dude you left everything here!” You giggled. Tate forced out a chuckle, everything was of course still there, since he ‘lived’ there normally and never moved.

“Yeah, uh…Guess I left in a hurry.” He muttered awkwardly and grabbed some of his Nirvana CDs.

“There they were…!” He pretended as if he didn’t just play them everyday before you came.

“CDs? Didn’t you use an IPod or something?” You gave him a confused look.

“Oh uh…no, I prefer CDs.” He nodded, as if he knew what an IPod was.

“You don’t use your phone?” You asked, raising up your glowing box.

“No, I…don’t have one.” He gulped.

“Damn, how do you handle that? I could never live without Tumblr or Instagram.” You chuckled.

“...Yea, um…just not my thing, y’know?” He cleared his throat, trying his best to change the subject.

“Oh, yea. I’ve met some people like that. I envy y’all, y’know? Tumblr’s literally addicting to me. Can’t help it though, love when people comment nice stuff and see you as inspiring, y’know?” You chuckled, sitting down on his your bed.

“Uh…can’t really relate. I’ve always been pretty invisible.” He shrugged.

“Oh…you don’t seem so bad. I like the whole grungy vibe.” You grinned, pointing to his outfit.

“Oh- uh…thank you.” He hoped it was a good thing to be ‘grungy’...or whatever you said.

“Yea, looks good on you. Doesn’t really fit me tho.” You giggled.

“You’d look gorgeous in anything.” Was what Tate wanted to say, but he didn’t wanna push his luck too far, so he just forced a shy chuckle.

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

You spent something like 30 minutes just laughing and getting to know each other while laying on the bed. During this whole time, he couldn’t help but think about how breathtaking you were: your smile, your eyes, your body, your personality, your whole being. You were perfect. Perfect for him. He found himself to be completely mesmerized by you, he needed you to be his, he needed you to make him feel loved, alive. He wondered how you did it, how ever since the first second you spent next to him, his heart started beating for the first time since he died. His body felt warm, his skin didn’t feel so cold anymore, he started breathing again. He was addicted to this feeling, so he did the only reasonable thing he would’ve done if he was actually alive, he gently grabbed your cheek and pressed his lips against yours. Everything felt just better after he kissed you, as if after that whole hell he had been through he finally reached paradise. He felt even more surprised when you kissed back, your lips moving in sync with his. He moved to lay on top of you, balancing his weight so he didn’t crush you, his lips never leaving yours as his fingertips danced across your body. His tongue slipped in your mouth, swirling around yours in a passionate dance. He let out some deep throaty groans, he felt his desire grow as it coursed through his veins. He needed to feel you, so he deepened his kisses. When you moved your lips down on his jaw and then his neck, he almost lost it. He felt embarrassed for moaning so much and basically becoming a mess under your touch, but he relaxed as soon as he felt your lips curling up in a smile against his skin. He moved on to devour your neck, grinning as he felt you moan now. His hands gripped every inch of your body.

“You’re so…beautiful…” He mumbled against your skin, grabbing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. He looked up at you while tugging at your shirt, silently asking for consent to peel it off of you.

“You can take off whatever you want...” You winked, giving him a cute smile. He immediately peeled off both his and your clothes, groaning at the sight of your body. His lips worked hungrily on your collarbone, leaving marks that will most likely turn into hickeys the next day, then placed kisses on the valley between your breasts, a tiny whine leaving him when his fingers failed at desperately trying to undo the clasp of your bra.

You giggled and helped him, throwing your bra somewhere on the floor. He immediately took one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling gently while looking up at you with those brown puppy eyes of his. You smiled and twirled a strand of his blonde locks between your fingers, soft moans escaping your lips. He kept switching between sucking your left then right nipple, his hand groping the one he wasn’t attacking with his mouth. He felt himself getting harder as he felt the warmth radiating from your body, so while his mouth worked wonders, he desperately brushed his growing bulge from under his boxers on your leg. He let out some needy whines, and he couldn’t help but mutter sweet words against your skin as he lowered down to trail kisses on your tummy.

“So perfect f’me…” His words came out muffled as he trailed his kisses down, pressing his lips against your inner thigh and then on the fabric of your panties. You moaned when his fingers hooked under the waistband of your underwear, slowly pulling it down, as his lips immediately worked on your clit.

“Ah…just like that Tate…don’t stop…” You moaned when he started to suckle gently, soft whines leaving his mouth as well. As he got more needy himself, his mouth lowered on your entrance, his tongue gently brushing against your wet folds, finally entering you after teasing you a slight bit. What you felt was pure bliss, unholy sounds leaving your lips every time his tongue sped up. When you looked down, you found Tate looking up at you with those brown doe eyes from between your legs, as he worked his magic. The sight only drove you to the edge, your moans getting louder as you came on his face. He groaned and cleaned you up with his tongue, making sure not to miss any single droplet of your cum.

“So good…you taste so fucking good…” He moaned into your ear, pressing wet kisses on your neck and collarbone.

“Wanna be inside of you…please? please let me…” He whined while rubbing his hard dick against your flesh. You nodded and just like that he didn't waste any more time, he abruptly pulled his boxer down, groaning as the cold air hit his shaft, and lined up with your entrance. While you were still coming down from your high after the intense orgasm, Tate pushed his dick inside of you slowly, moaning uncontrollably once he felt your tight walls clenching around him. You were relieved that this encounter happened when you threw a party, or every single soul nearby would’ve heard the throaty groans and moans leaving his lips.

“Mh…tight…so tight…so pretty-can I move please? I’ll be- ah…I’ll be careful-please-” He whined against your neck, as his blonde strands caressed your face gently. You agreed, and just like that he was thrusting in and out of you, first slowly, then at a steady pace. The room was filled with filthy moans, yours and his, and the repetitive sound of skin against skin, as your sweaty bodies were sliding one against each other. He felt like he was going insane as his mind couldn't help but focus on you and you only. Every moment was more pleasurable and he felt like he was closer and closer, so he muttered in your ear, still thrusting into you.

“Close…so close…don’t think i’m gonna last-ah…longer…please please please…want you to cum too…” He babbled as his brain turned into mush.

“Ah-! Mhm…m’close too…” You breathed out, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten even more.

“Please-mh…cum on my dick? yeah? wanna feel you..please…” He whimpered, he felt like he couldn’t contain his upcoming orgasm. You couldn’t even respond as the repetitive brushing of his tip against your G-spot drove you to the edge. Letting out a loud moan, you came for the second time while he was still inside of you. That caused Tate’s eyes to roll back, his groans only filling the room as the feeling of your cum dripping on his length and your walls squeezing it, was too much to bear. He quickly pulled out and came all over your stomach, then he collapsed next to you.

He spent the next moments cuddling up against you, thinking about everything. His hands were playing with your hair, and when he looked down he found your eyes closed and your breath steady. He smiled at the sight, wanting every night of his afterlife to end like this and determined to make that happen. He kept placing sweet kisses on the top of your head, while he wondered how he was gonna explain to you that he died before Tumblr even existed.

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @doll3tt33 @marchsfreakshow @fear-is-truth @dykejugheadjones @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind @brightanshiny

a/n: rahhhh tate's such a loser needy boy. BTW spent sm time on this fic, I'm pretty proud of how it turned out!! hope you like it! this is for my tumblr girlies🩷

all rights reserved!!

[the-offside-rule]

Mason Mount (Manchester United) - Theatre of Dreams

Requested: yes

Prompt: 10) Baby's first game

Warnings: none

Baby Prompts

The sun hung low in the sky as Mason, his wife Y/n, and their son Joshua approached the iconic Old Trafford stadium for Joshua's first ever football match. Excitement buzzed in the air, and little Joshua, donned in a mini version of his dad's jersey, couldn't contain his giggles. "Daddy, are we going to see you play?" Joshua asked, his eyes wide with anticipation. Mason chuckled, holding onto his son's tiny hands, carefully leading him into the stadium. "Yes we are, bossman." He replied, lifting him up as he spotted the few reporters and photographers, not wanting to reveal his son, nevermind startle him. Whilst everyone knew the couple had a child, they didn't know what he looked like or anything about him. "Can you score? You haven't scored in ages." Mason looked over to Y/n who attempted to hide a grin. "Yeah, I'll try."

Mason showed Y/n and Joshua up to the box where most of the WAGs stayed, telling them about where everything is and how to leave after the final whistle blew. "So I'll wait for you in the car park?" Y/n asked. Mason nodded. "Yeah, just-" He was cut from his wrds as he felt a small tug at his trousers. The couple looked down to see Joshua pointing out the window. "Daddy, it's so big!" Joshua exclaimed, his voice filled with awe. Mason grinned, sharing a look with Y/n and once again lifting Joshua up. "Yep, it's one of the biggest stadiums, buddy. You're going to have a great time." Mason placed a gentle kiss onto his son's cheek. "Now, you sit with Mummy and I'll see you after the game, yeah?" He suggested, handing him over to Y/n.

"Bye, Daddy!" Joshua smiled, pulling at his mother's jacket. "Oh, before I leave-" He paused and reached for a black Manchester United bag, pulling out a small box and handing it to Joshua. "I got you a quick pressie." Joshua examined the box carefully before pulling the lid off and being confronted with a bright red jersey. He lifted it and looked at the back, his father's number staring back. "What do you think?" Mason asked gently. "It's not blue." Joshua replied. Mason couldn't help but feel his heart drop a little bit, the thought of his son not supporting him lingering in the back of his mind. "But red is my favourite."

Mason beamed with joy and ruffled his hair. "Good man." He grinned. "I'll see you after the game." He stood up and leaned over to Y/n. "Love you." He whispered. "Love you too."

As the players took to the pitch, Y/n and Joshua cheered with unbridled enthusiasm, their voices merging with the chorus of supporters around them. "I see daddy!" Joshua exclaimed, clapping his hands. "No, baby. Daddy is number 7, not 19." She explained calmly. "Oh. Okay." He searched the pitch again before turning back to his Mum. "What number is 7 again?"

As Mason walked back to the car, he smiled gently upon seeing Y/n leaning against the car. "Missed you." He said with a tender smile, grateful for her unwavering support. She giggled as he practically fell into her arms. "Ot has been 2 hours." He shrugged. "I dom't care. Couldn't wait to get off the pitch for once." He said, pulling away and looking behind her. "Was he okay?" He asked, referring to Joshua who was asleep. "He was fine. He's just a bit sleepy now." Mason nodded. "We should get home and get him to bed."

As the couple reached home, they stopped in silence for a moment. "This is mad, you know." Mason arched a brow. "I mean, I remember my first match as your girlfriend and now we have our son coming with us. That's all I mean." Mason smiled sleepily. "It is mad when you put it that way." Mason undid his seatbelt and hopped out of the car. "Would you mind bringing in my kitbag and I'll bring Joshua to bed?" Y/n agreed before grabbing his bag and heading inside.

With tender care, Mason unbuckled Joshua's seatbelt, his movements slow and deliberate so as not to disturb the tranquility of sleep. He marveled at the innocence that radiated from his son's peaceful countenance, a sight that never failed to fill his heart with a sense of warmth and pride. Gently cradling Joshua in his arms, Mason stepped out of the car, the cool night air washing over him like a soothing balm. As Mason made his way towards the house, his footsteps were soft and deliberate, each one a testament to the love that guided his every move. He savored the weight of Joshua in his arms, the bond between them forged in the quiet moments of tenderness and affection.

Mason kicked off his shoes upon reaching the front door. He loved home. The warmth of the house enveloped them like a comforting embrace and each step on the soft carpet adding to the comfort. Mason tiptoed up the stairs, his movements fluid and effortless as he navigated the familiar terrain of their home.

Mason opened the nursery door, hushing Joshua as he stirred in his sleep. Mason gently laid his sleeping son down in his crib, tucking the blankets around him with infinite care. He lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on Joshua's innocent face. "You doing alright?" He turned to see Y/n leaning by the door. "Just fine. I'll be right back to you in a minute and we can go watch a film or something." He replied. "Or try for baby number 2." He almost jumped at the suggestion. "Do you mean it?" Y/n chuckled softly at her husband's reaction. "Maybe. Don't leave me waiting too long." She said before heading away downstairs.

"Goodnight, Joshua." Mason said as he brushed a gentle kiss against Joshua's forehead. With a final glance, Mason tiptoed out of the room, the door closing softly behind him, and for his son to sleep after spending his evening in the Theatre of Dreams.

[mystic-writings]

tangled up (in strings of emotion) | wilbur soot

PAIRING – wilbur soot x fem!streamer!reader, implied wilbur x shubble

REQUEST – anon - Hi! ok so, i had a very angsty idea. basically, we all know how wilbur had a crush on shubble? basically, my idea is that wilbur and streamer!reader have been dating for a while and the internet loves them (as they should) and reader and shubble are good friends like reader, shubble and niki are all like an iconic trio, but then wilbur starts to distance from reader and spend more time with shubble and you know who catches on first? james. and then jack figures it out, and tommy and niki and the band all have it figured out and niki (i love niki more than life itself) tells reader and the readers like “fuck you, it’s me or her william.” with prompt 9 from “angst prompt 2”?? i feel like that would be really really cool and your angst is absolutely *chefs kiss* :) if you don’t wanna do it that’s fine! just a thought, have a lovely day!!

PROMPT – 9. “don’t make me choose.”

SUMMARY –  you finally find out why your relationship with wilbur is falling apart, even if you didn’t see the signs. 

WARNINGS – angst, hurt/no comfort, tw cheating mentions

WORD COUNT – 2,720

NOTES – i listened to haunted by tswift the entire time i wrote this bc it matches so well tbh | first fic of 2024 & no surprise, it’s ANGST !!

masterlist | taglist form

How have you been so blissfully ignorant all this time?

These past few years of your life, the ones you once looked back upon as the best of your life thus far, were tainted with a dark stain. 

You don’t know how you missed it. All the signs were there, but maybe you were just too happy to believe that something could’ve been wrong in the first place. 

Being a streamer, and a successful one at that, was a blessing you never thought you’d have. It led you to all of your best friends, and to your boyfriend of nearly three years. Wilbur Soot, more commonly known now as Will Gold, who you met through your friends Niki and Shelby. It felt like it was fate, meeting him. You were at a point in life where things just felt sour all the time, and you barely had the energy to create content at the time. Then, around the beginning of January 2020, Niki asked if you wanted to make a video with her, Philza, and Wilbur, and from there things were history. 

After starting dating over the internet for a while, and with the lockdowns coming and going frequently, you and Wilbur met for the first time in his tiny flat in London. It was amazing, spending that time together, just the two of you. Deciding to make things public and when was a tough decision, but you thought it would be safer to do so after you took the jump and moved to England. You’d never forget that conversation, sitting on your kitchen counter at 4am.

“And you’re sure you want to do that?” Wilbur asked. “I mean, moving here, moving across the country just so we can be together it’s- it’s-” 

“A big step, Will. I know. But it’s been almost a year, you know. Restrictions are lifting soon. And I want to be with you. I want to be able to see Tommy and Phil and Niki and Jack easier. I want to be happy.” You told him. “I know I have Shelby here, and I love her with everything I have, but she’s the only thing here and it’s just not enough anymore. I need you.” 

After a long, anxiety-inducing silence, Wilbur sighed. “I know. I need you too. I just want to make sure you’re making the right decision here, you know? I don’t want you to have gone through all that trouble just to get here and find you don’t like it, or something happens and you have to go back, anyway.”

You shook your head, even though your boyfriend couldn’t see you. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, Wilbur. I know what I want. And besides, there’s no place on Earth I wouldn’t live if it meant I could live with you.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“You should go to sleep. It’s almost 5 in the morning. You need rest.” Wilbur told you, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“I know, I know. I’ll talk to you later, though. I promise.” 

“Alright, darling. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Will.”

And it was after a long, unnecessarily stressful process with customs and gathering the right papers, that you finally moved in with Wilbur, who began renting an apartment in Brighton not long after the process began. 

Over a several-week-long process, you met all of your best friends in person for the first time, and it was the best few weeks of your life. Niki especially was excited to meet you, and she was one of the first to do so. 

Life for the next year or so was amazing to say the least. Yours and Wilbur’s respective careers were taking off, his in music and yours in streaming and on YouTube. Everything was coming out on top for the both of you, and for all of your friends. 

Until now, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time. 

You and Wilbur had been travelling for his tour for a while now, both of you putting off streaming to travel with the rest of Lovejoy for their very first American tour. Christmas was closing in, and you were in California, visiting Shelby, Quackity, and a ton of other friends that you hadn’t seen in a long time. 

Wilbur’s show was amazing, as per usual, and you and Shelby spent the whole night glued to one another. Will, like he normally did during the performances when you were in the crowd, kept tossing loving glances your way for most of the set. He even dragged Quackity on stage to cover a song with him. It was truly amazing. 

The trip to see your friends, and the rest of the tour overall, was amazing. After it ended and you all went back to England, you noticed a shift in Wilbur’s behaviour. At first you assumed it was just work stress and post-tour burnout of sorts, but soon it became very apparent that it wasn’t directed at anyone but you. 

You spent a lot of time around Wilbur and your friends, as group hangouts became very common since you were both gone for so long. They were normally hosted at Tommy’s flat or James’, sometimes Jack’s house or round yours. It was always fun, though, and that’s what mattered.

Streams became frequent again, both solo and with whoever was available at the time, planned or not. You even did a subathon for your birthday that lasted a week and a half. You invited everyone in the area to come over for cake, called those who were too far away and everything; it truly was a wonderful birthday. 

Content creation was always unpredictable, and everyone’s lives were hectic, so you weren’t too surprised when Shelby stopped communicating with you as frequently over the next few months. The summer of 2023 seemed to be busy for everyone, including yourself. 

You were helping Tommy with his tours and upcoming plans, and your own plans for the future had you being pulled every which way. Wilbur even bought a house for the two of you, despite the rift that was still forming between the two of you. He spent most nights in his office, playing video games or working on music. 

Still, even with the distance between you, you never would’ve guessed that the others could see it, too. 

It started with James giving you odd looks whenever you’d excuse Wilbur’s lack of presence at hangouts, even when they were at your house. Then Niki, who asked if you were okay on more than one occasion. Then Jack, who came to you about an editing problem and brought up how you hadn’t mentioned Wilbur in a little while, and whose mood seemed to sully when you shrugged and told him it was because he was very busy right now. Then one by one, it seemed everyone was catching onto it, and you nearly shouted at them to leave you alone, because it was your relationship and you didn’t see any problems.

Even if Wilbur barely slept in the same bed as you anymore. Even if he rarely ever touched or kissed you anymore.

Niki. Poor, unfortunate Niki, was the first to find out why. She never told you how, or who told her, but she was the only one who knew. She came to you with it on a beautiful Friday afternoon, a day where you both decided to not stream in favour of a nice, relaxing afternoon in your backyard, drinking coffee at a little table in your garden, full of flowers and flourishing at your hand and hard work. 

She’d seemed off to you the entire time she was there, quietly sipping on her second cup of coffee and admiring the flowers. 

“Are you okay, Niki?” You’d asked, eyeing her with concern. 

Her eyes snapped to yours from the peonies beside her. “What? I’m fine, Y/n, don’t worry.” 

“You sure?” You asked. “You seem… off. Like something’s bothering you. If you want to talk, we can, I mean, we’ve been friends for long enough that you can tell me anything you want. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot.” She stated, fiddling with her fingers. Her stature was small, eyes attempting to steer clear of your gaze and finding solace in her mug. “I just- I don’t know if you’ll like what I have to say, and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re my best friend.” 

You smiled gently at the girl. “Don’t worry, Niki. If there’s something you need to tell me, I’m sure I can handle it. You can’t hurt me that badly.” 

Your smile faltered when Niki’s weary eyes met yours. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I only found out last night, and I hate to be the one to tell you, especially because it’s not any of my business, I just felt that you needed to know, I-”

“Niki, calm down,” you reached out to place your hand atop hers, and she turned it over to grip it in return. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Wilbur.” She sighed, and your heart rate skyrocketed. “I know why he’s not acting himself around you.” 

“Is he okay? I mean, he’s healthy right?” You asked. “Why wouldn’t he tell me this himself?”

“Because he didn’t want you to know.” She said, tears forming in her eyes. “He’s not sick or anything, Y/n. He’s… he’s in love with someone else.” 

The world around you could’ve set fire and you wouldn’t have known. Niki’s words rang in your ears, and your heart plummeted from the place in your chest, as if Wilbur himself had dropped it from the safe place you put it; right into his hands. 

“With who? Do I know her?”

Niki only nodded, sniffling and blinking away her tears while yours threatened to fall. After a long silence and a heavy sigh, she squeezed your hand again and opened her mouth, her next words coming out shakily. “It’s… Y/n, it’s Shelby.”

You pulled your hand from hers. “What?”

“They’ve been talking for months now. She told me last night and I haven’t spoken to her since then,” Niki swore. “She said she feels bad for doing this to you, especially because she rejected Wilbur for a long time and you’re best friends. I guess she couldn’t stop herself after a while. I don’t know. All she said was that Wilbur initiated it.” 

“She still participated.” You said, words lined with tears. “Do you know how long he’s been… been pursuing her?”  You nearly gagged on the words. 

Niki nodded. “Since the LA performance in December.” 

Somehow, your heart fell further than it did before. 

Finding out was a blessing and a curse, really. Everything started to make sense once you truly thought it over. All those nights holed up in his office lately, the distance that formed after the tour ended. Those loving glances during the LA show. Somehow, you could tell now that they weren’t for you. 

After you talked and cried more about it with Niki, she left to go tend to her cats in her apartment, and offered a place to stay if you needed it. 

You spent hours on the couch, anxiously awaiting Wilbur’s return from the studio. Your stomach turned with the thought that he could be on the phone with Shelby right now, chatting and making her laugh and telling her how much he felt for her. You almost broke when you wondered if he’d ever told her he loved her. 

Finally, well after sundown, the door creaked open and shut. In walked Wilbur, guitar case gripped in one hand, shoulders sagging from the weight of the day. 

“Hello, love.” You said, barely looking at him, words cold as ice.

He tossed a quick glance at you. “Hi, darling. How was your day?”

“Good.” You said, watching him lean the guitar against the arm of the couch, lazily kissing your head as he did. 

Somehow, after all these months of being emotionally distant, Wilbur could tell something was wrong. “You okay?” He asked as he headed to the kitchen on the opposite side of the house. 

With a sigh, you stood up and clenched your fists. Might as well get it over with. “What’s going on with you lately, Will?”

His brows furrowed as he stopped in the doorway, turning to face you. “What d’you mean? I’m fine, darling.” 

“No you’re not.” You said. “You’ve been distant, and for a while now. You’ve been borderline avoiding me. It’s like you’re not even in a relationship with me! Like you don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore! Did you know our friends have noticed? Every time I show up to a gathering without you they ask what’s wrong. Where you are. And I have nothing to say because I didn’t think anything was wrong.”

Wilbur sighed, face scrunched with indignation. “That’s because nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy.”

“Really? What, busy talking to Shelby?”

Wilbur’s face fell, the colour going with it. 

“Yeah, don’t act surprised, Will. I know.” You said, the emotion finally flowing back to you. “I know you’ve been seeing my best friend behind my back. I know you’ve been pursuing her for a year. Niki told me. She said you’ve been after Shelby, wearing her down, trying to get her to go behind everyone’s back. After all this time, after everything we’ve been through, and you cheat on me with her of all people? My best friend. The woman who helped introduce us and you didn’t think I’d find out at some point?” 

“Look, it’s not what you think, I just-” 

“Just what, Wilbur?” You asked, biting back a sob. “Just wanted to use me to get to her? I don’t even know why you asked me out in the first place. I knew you had a crush on her before we started dating.” You breathed a shaky sigh, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I guess I was just naive enough to think you’d gotten over it. Maybe you did, for a little while.”

“I swear, it’s nothing like that, Y/n. I love you, I do.” He pleaded. “Just let me explain everything, please.” 

“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe you, Wilbur. You bought a house for us! I moved here for you! We were building a life together! And you tore it all down for her!” You screamed. The neighbours could probably hear you by now, but you didn’t care. You needed to let everything out. “I left my family behind, my life behind for you. That’s how much I love you. I guess you just don’t love me enough to do the same.” 

“Y/n, don’t- I love you, too. We can fix this, I swear. I promise.” 

“Fuck you.” You spat, catching Wilbur off guard. “You don’t love me. Not enough to cheat on me with one of my best friends. So fuck you, William. It’s me or her. You don’t get to have us both. I won’t put myself through that.”

Wilbur’s eyes filled with emotion, with indecision. “Don’t. Please, Y/n, don’t make me choose.”

You stepped closer to him, fury burning through you. “Fine, then I will. I don’t know what the hell you thought you could do when you got yourself into this, but you’re sure as hell not gonna keep dating me.”

Before Wilbur could speak, you were marching upstairs to your bedroom – the room you spent more time in than Wilbur did – texting Niki on your way to pack a bag. Your heart was crumbling to dust in your chest, and the emotion was finally replacing whatever temporary anger you felt, crashing through you like waves, putting out the fire within you. 

Wilbur begged and pleaded as you packed your bag, but you didn’t listen. You just packed whatever was necessary, whatever you could think to bring for the night. You’d come back for the rest later. 

15 minutes later, after a quiet Uber ride, you were sitting in Niki’s living room, crying and wondering what you were going to do next. Because you changed your life for Wilbur, and it was his reckless betrayal that tore it all down around you. 

forever taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality@mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

wilbur soot taglist: open!

[fluffysucker]

There's nothing like this

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU) Boxer/Biker! Bucky Barnes x Chef! Reader Part of the Miss Americana & The heartbreak Prince. AKA Bucky and his princess ALL ONESHOTS CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONE

Bucky looks at you and your relationship

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me.

Been sitting on this one for a while now.Anyway hope you look it.

HEAVILY based on Hozier's song 'Two sweet'. Because look at me and tell this song isn't so Bucky and his princess.

Main Masterlist

It was absurd. It was unusual. It was odd. It was unconventional. It was everything but normal.

However, it made perfect sense for both of them.

He was focused. He was determined. He was in the ring. He held his hands up near his face, calculating his next steps carefully. If he played it right, the fight was his with the least effort.

And he did. Because right now, he was the legend. The icon. The unbeatable. He was James Barnes. He was, as many like to call him, the Winter Soldier.

The opposite man never stood a chance to begin with. He knew it. Everybody knew it. It's a sad day in any player's life when they are paired with Barnes.

His legacy was unequal. His reputation preceded him. His demeanor spoke loudly. His appearance made it clear. His strong body and physique. His toned muscles. His broad shoulders. His long hair. His cold stare.

Everything about him prompted fear to the hearts of all players who sought this game as a profession.

He was untouchable. He was unconquerable. He was the Winter Soldier. He was James Barnes.

Winning this fight in record time with a final blow from his left arm, which the opponent wouldn't recover from, wasn't what was abnormal about this.

The abnormality came from the girl in the pink dress and bright makeup who sat in the first row and cheered for Barnes like her life was dependent on it.

Finally, you were able to get to this place in your relationship where Bucky was okay with you watching him fight.

You thought you had lost your hearing when Bucky told you that you could come and watch for the first time. You were playfully nagging him about it like you usually did whenever he had fights coming up. You never expected him to give in and agree this time. It took you a couple of seconds to react. Only regaining composure when he offered to take it back. Over your dead body. You had been waiting for this long enough.

Bucky couldn't understand how or why someone would get this happy and excited to watch a boxing match. Especially someone like you. Someone so sweet and adorable.

Your excited squeals and up-and-down jumping in the kitchen of his apartment once he told you left him surprised in a pleasant way.

You really did love him so much that you wanted to risk being in such a place only to support him. Not that he would let anything happen to you. Never in a million years. But a person like you could never belong to places like these. And you were smart enough to know that.

But you didn't care. You had been asking for this for a long time. You meant every word you said. You wanted to support him, be there for him, and cheer for him. You wanted it.

You wanted to be a part of every aspect of Bucky's life. Because you loved everything about him.

And letting you come and watch him felt like a great victory and a big step forward. All your patience and understanding paid off.

And you continued. Letting Bucky decide whenever you could join. Let him have one of the guys pick you up and drop you off. Let him assign another one to stay with you.

It made you laugh inside. One of them would show up at your restaurant's door at the agreed-upon time and take you to the Stark property. Then, once you reached inside, another would be waiting for you to accompany you the whole time you were here. Most of the time, it was either Steve or Sam. Given that Bucky trusted them the most and you were closest to them,.

The whole thing felt very funny to you. You felt like a child being handed around from one to the other. But you were okay with it. You knew that was the only way for Bucky to let you come here. So you didn't mind. Whatever would put his mind at ease and would allow you to support your boyfriend. You were fine with it.

Bucky always made sure he planned it right. He made sure you arrived at the right time when you were able to watch his full fight from the start, but nothing before it. You were here only for him, and it should stay like this. He didn't like the idea of you seeing other messy, brutal fights. That was also why he made sure he brought you to fights that were easy. He knew he was winning. Fights that he came out of with barely a scratch.

Of course, you noticed this pattern of choices. But you didn't bring it. And you wouldn't. At least for now.

However, the most important thing for Bucky was making sure someone stayed with you at all times until you left. If Sam or Steve were unavailable to do this job for any reason, you weren't coming. It wasn't up to debate.

He knew the people who frequented Stark Property. They would eat you alive. Your lovability and tenderness would draw them to you like a deer in a wolf den. And they wouldn't be kind. And Bucky couldn't have this. If anyone said something to you, let alone tried to lay a hand on you, Bucky would burn the whole place down. No hesitation. No thoughts. Everybody would be in great danger.

Just like he was untouchable, you were too. And even more.

Knowing so, Sam and Steve took their assignments seriously. Because while both men loved you and cared for you, they were aware of Bucky's nature. It was no joke to him. God forbid he turn around mid-fight and see you sitting alone. They wouldn't hear the end of it. There were very few things the three men considered to be a threat to their long and strong friendship; this was one of them.

So today, after the referee announced him the winner, he turned to the crowd that was applauding him. His eyes immediately caught you. Standing in between Yelena and Sam in your puff-sleeved, heart-shaped neckline, filled with rose-flower pink dress, matching your shiny pinkish makeup. Your hair braided at the top and rest falling freely on your back. The necklace with his initials resting on the pit of your neck. You were cheering for him like he won the world's most prestigious prize.

Bucky was trying to fight his smile and not break character. You looked unbelievably cute. With your happy smile, bright eyes, and nonstop clapping, it was all for him. You did it for him.

Everybody was cheering for James Barnes or the Winter Soldier, while you were cheering for Bucky.

And he was so grateful.

Bucky left the ring, only throwing a wink at you on his way inside. While Bucky didn't show much affection towards you in here, everyone connected the dots.

You were the boxer's girl. And you held that with pride

Once Bucky was inside, some of the guys came out, making you all head out to the bar to continue the night there.

You were in the middle of a conversation with Wanda when you felt the familiar, strong arms wrap around your waist.

"Hey, princess." Bucky whispered in your ear as he pulled you close to his chest, laying soft kisses on your exposed neck.

You smiled at Wanda, who took this as her cue to give you two spaces. Because in here with the people he mostly trusted, Bucky wasn't shy about giving you all his attention and affection. In other words, it gets sickeningly sweet and loving.

"Hey, babe." You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands tightened around your waist.

"You were so great in there." You said this as you gave his lips a little peck.

"You liked it?" Bucky asked as he kept giving you small kisses.

"Yes, I wanted to shout at everyone to look at how strong my boyfriend is." You were laughing as you tried to speak between his kisses.

"I think they already know." Bucky couldn't help himself when he buried his face in your neck, kissing it softly.

"Well, they need to hear it from me." You felt the vibration of his laugh on your neck.

You moved a bit so he could look at you. You wanted to say this to his face.

"I'm so proud of you." You were looking into his eyes as you said it.

The playful smile on Bucky's face turned into something genuine. The care and love you gave after the fights touched him immensely. Nobody ever treated him like that. So gently. It was puzzling how, after watching a fight like this, you still chose to love him so sweetly.

It was an active choice you kept making. He didn't understand why, but he would never complain.

He leaned forward to capture your lips and kiss you softly yet passionately. He wanted to stay like this forever.

As the night went on, you and Bucky separated, travelling to different circles of people. But that didn't mean Bucky didn't keep his eyes off you.

Which was what led to where he was now.

Bucky was sitting in one of the booths, observing you. The back booth gave him the opportunity to see everything.

You were standing with his friends. People who were so different from you yet here you were, getting along greatly with all of them. You were talking to all of them, laughing, and sharing jokes.

Bucky couldn't help the smile on his face when he saw you struggling to give Clint an opinion about the dish he made and presented to you.

But you being you. You managed to find something nice to say about the barely edible food, making Clint's smile bigger than the sky.

You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate.

The rest of you like you're the TSA.

Bucky kept watching you. He watched as you listened carefully to Peter's stories, and how you interacted and was fully invested. He watched as Pepper stole you to ask about a cake recipe for Morgan, which you happily provided.

Then he watched as you rejoined Natasha at the bar, picking up where you left off in the conversation with her.

It wasn't just the colors you wore that made you stand out. It was everything.

I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

Bucky couldn't take his eyes off you. How you listened to everyone. How you treated everyone. How swiftly you got along with everyone. How compassionate and accepting you were. How sweet you were.

And you were all his.

Bucky kept looking at you as you were walking towards him.

"I brought you another one." You said this as you put the two cups on the table. His neat whisky and your raspberry martini.

Before you could sit down, Bucky pulled you to himself, ushering for you to sit on his lap. You gladly did.

His arms came around your waist, and yours around his shoulders. Your floral scent evaded his senses. It was the opposite of his. Strong scent like the woods and black coffee.

Your pink dress clashed with his all-black outfit. You felt too bright for the dark spot he was sitting in.

Everything about the two of you didn't make any sense. Not even in the slightest. You were the polar opposite.

You were nice. He was stiff. You were friendly. He was feared. You were understanding. He was strict. You were smiley. He was sullen. You were vulnerable. He was a closed book.

You were everything he wasn't. He was everything you weren't.

There was nothing like this.

And somehow, that made you perfect.

You brought lights he had never seen in his life before. You created happiness he never thought of. You led him to feelings he didn't know existed. You gave him love, which he always claimed he was unworthy of.

You changed his life. You turned his life upside down. In the best way possible.

Bucky wished there were enough words in the world to tell you how much he loved you. Bucky wished there were enough ways he could express his gratitude for you. Bucky wished there were enough time to show you how much he cherished you.

Bucky wished that one day you would ever comprehend how your sweetness saved him. How you were everything to him

"You're too sweet for me." Bucky spoke slowly as he kissed you.

[fairytale-poll]

SEMI-FINALS! MATCH 1 OUT OF 2

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Red Hood:

she’s red riding hood but CYBERPUNK. and she’s part of the REBELLION. she’s can hack MILITARY tech in a matter of moments. she uses her WOLF VIRUS to hack into CROWN VEHICLES and RIDE THEM INTO BATTLE. she REPURPOSED a GOVERNMENT VIRUS into a weapon to HURT THEM. her GRANDMOTHER was killed by the corrupt government virus that she has since TAMED and uses it AGAINST them. her fiction (this is canon!): https://themechanisms.com/fiction/what-big-eyes/

mechs fans need a win methinks. my mutual told me to go submit red but i also have very strong opinions on her because this entire album makes me insane. red started as a young 12 year old hacker who eventually put her skills to the test when a government-made computer virus (called the wolf virus) went rogue and unplugged her grandmother from life support. (the wolf virus was initially intended to figure out what wasn’t necessary for the war and divert power to weapons instead. it went rogue and started going after people who would never be able to help the war [ie disabled and elderly]). so red FOUGHT IT OFF ON HER OWN and TAMED IT. so then she essentially had a weapon designed to take down crown weapons and vehicles. so she joined the war effort and fought for brutal 30 years. it’s unclear whether she survived the final battle, but i think she deserves to take the win. also. she’s in space. she’s cyberpunk. she’s part of a retold fairytale cast BUT IN A COSMIC WAR. it’s like if star wars was actually good.

Cerise Hood:

She’s the child of the red riding hood and the big bad wolf. Don’t question it to okay. Also she was the first character I thought of when I saw this!

She’s the daughter of red riding hood and the big bad wolf! She’s a werewolf!

Love her design very much. She gets a lot of great outfits. Also, another version of Red Riding Hood that incorporates both the girl and the wolf together.

1: ever after high was iconic and amazing and so well written and i'm really bitter that it was cancelled so i think cerise deserves this win (i do too) 2: her design is really good. like no one else could EVER if you ask me 3: wolf girl. do i NEED to say more. ...honestly, my brain cannot bring out any more words so fingers crossed someone else submits her and she gets some ACTUAL GOOD propaganda (sorry cerise forgive me)

She’s a badass red riding hood with a secret (her dad is the big bad wolf)

She's the daughter of Red Riding Hood and the Wolf, so she has wolf ears and is really strong. She's supposed to be the next Red Riding Hood so she should count.

She's the daughter of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf making her a daughter of forbidden love and thus a double representation of Little Red Riding Hood's age-old story of maturity and adolescence.

She's really cool! She was born from a forbidden romance between the wolf (don't worry he turns into a human lmao) and Little Red Riding Hood and has to hide her heritage from other people which I think is really interesting. Also her hood is really pretty.

She's the daughter of red riding hood and is meant to take over that role when it's her time

she slays so hard!! while technically shes not THE little red riding hood, she is her daughter and the FUTURE little red riding hood. shes also half wolf, which is really cool!! and yea. she slays.

idk she’s just cool & definitely gay

She’s meant to be the next Red Riding Hood but her whole bit is that not only is her mom Red Riding Hood, her father is the Big Bad Wolf and she needs to keep it a secret. The best of both worlds. The tween girls went crazy for the wolf thing. Had a pretty doll and cool outfits. Has an older sister who’s meant to be the next Big Bad Wolf (Ramona Badwolf) who she comes into conflict with. Identity crisis! She was everything to eleven year old me

She’s half wolf, she has cool white streaks in her hair, she’s a jock with super speed and I like her a lot.

she turned me lesbian.

Fan favourite, my first lesbian crush on a character

She is a daughter of previous Little Red Riding Hood and Big Bad Wolf, how cool is that

She’s a furry yeuwu

she’s the daughter of red riding hood and the big bad wolf. she’s a wolf girl. i love her

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fic banner showing Pyro standing in front of a fireplace with its back to it, tossing a book backward into the fire. Pyro is in shades of gray, the book is in yellow-white, and only the fire is colored orange, mimicking the style of the Cooking the Books achievement icon. The title is on the left, in yellow-white text on a darker background reading, "CHAPTER THREE: COOKING THE BOOKS" /end ID]

Flickering

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: K+ Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Characters: Spy, Pyro, Scout (plus the rest of the mercs, but the others have minor roles in this chapter) Warnings: General references to trauma, TF2-typical violence Fic Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it’s never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason. Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve

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Chapter 3: Cooking the Books Summary: In which Pyro takes notice of Spy.

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The bustling atmosphere of the pre-match preparation was tinged with tension, at least for Spy. Sniper kept to himself; Soldier went on a rallying, confusing speech that no one other than Demo listened to; Heavy checked over his guns; Medic prepared his ubercharge; Scout... Engineer talked quietly to Pyro about setting up his buildings.

And Pyro stared directly at Spy.

Spy pretended to check through his disguises, but watched Pyro out of the corner of his eye. The Pyro never looked away, though it did give a tiny nod when the Engineer asked if it heard everything.

"Good to hear," Engineer said, and patted Pyro on the back with his good hand.

That made Pyro finally tear its gaze away from Spy to whirl on the Engineer. But the Administrator’s voice had already called for the match to start, and Engineer was hauling his toolbox out into the fray. When Pyro looked back, however, it gave a start; Spy had taken the opportunity to cloak so he could escape that creature's gaze.

Spy barely suppressed a shudder as he put as much distance between himself and the Pyro as possible. Once he was sure he was far enough away, he de-cloaked and let himself breathe.

Well. This was, indeed, going to make things difficult. If the Engineer hadn't startled Pyro, he wasn't sure what it might have done. But even though he'd gotten away, he couldn't imagine this would be the end of it.

Still, for the time being, he focused on the match. Pyro would likely be spending most of its time in their intelligence room, so he wouldn't get the chance to see it. Probably for the best, this time.

The match went on as it typically did, and Spy managed to sneak in to nab the BLU team's intelligence. As he was bringing the briefcase back, the Administrator's voice cried out that their intelligence had been taken as well.

Interesting—the Pyro had slipped up, it seemed.

Sure enough, Spy entered the intelligence room just in time to see the Engineer's precious gadgets be destroyed by enemy sappers. Sighing, he dropped off the stolen intelligence before charging back out to chase down the thief.

Spy followed the path the enemy had likely taken—through the sewers. Not something he enjoyed doing, but work was work, and the respawn would clean his outfit, provided he actually died. As he was mulling this over, he nearly ran smack into the RED merc standing at the edge of the water. "What are you doing?!" he cried. "They are going to—"

He faltered upon realizing whom he was talking to. Pyro did not acknowledge him, still staring at the water. The last time he recalled Pyro avoiding water was when it was “protecting” something it had set aflame, but it wasn’t holding anything other than its axe at the moment.

Before he could think any further on this, an explosion rang out just outside the sewers, followed by an announcement that the enemy had dropped the intelligence.

"Oh, got some of 'em on me shirt that time!" the Demo shouted with a laugh.

Spy snorted, whipping out his butterfly knife and preparing to leave to defend the intelligence when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye—Pyro had turned around to stare at him. Spy stared back, just for a moment, before cloaking and retreating.

He did not see the Pyro for the rest of the match, much to his relief. It must have gone back to defend the intelligence room again, and Spy avoided the room thereafter, instead opting to aid his own teammates in obtaining the enemy intelligence by taking out the enemy sentries and sniper. The remainder of the match went smoothly, with the RED team scoring yet another pointless victory. Spy rolled his shoulders as he headed back to spawn, only to freeze in his tracks.

Scout sat against the wall, breathing heavily.

Spy's mind plunged into a blank, staticy whirl, his heart threatening to break free of his ribcage. He could smell the smoke from the destroyed robots, the metallic tang of blood, and Scout was so hideously pale. There weren't any respawn machines here, and the Medic—

"What're you lookin' at, chucklenuts?" Scout snapped, tipping back the brim of his baseball cap as he fixed Spy with a look. His face was flushed red and glistening with sweat; he wiped his brow.

Rolling his eyes, Spy forcibly shoved the imagery from his mind. "Only wondering why you are wasting time when we need to return to spawn."

"What, I can't take a breather? I ran straight from the BLU intelligence room to here without stopping, or getting hit." Wincing, he held a hand against the side of his chest. "Mostly, anyway."

So he hadn't been imagining the smell of blood. Though it wasn't as strong as it had been back when... "You can rest after you've seen the Medic. Move."

Scout muttered a few unsavory words before pushing himself up to his feet, trudging back toward spawn, and Spy followed, closely inspecting the walls around them so he could look everywhere but at Scout.

When they arrived, Spy busied himself with tidying up his locker. He could hear Scout chatting with Medic, but tuned it out with the rustle of paper and fabric. His hand found a lint brush, and he used it to gently clean off his jacket and pants. Yes, they had another round in a short while, but it never hurt to look one's best.

As he bent down to clean off the bottoms of his pant legs, the hair stood on the back of his neck. Bristling, he whipped around to see Pyro once again staring at him from the other side of the room. This time, he stared right back, maintaining eye contact (or whatever approximated it with that creature's mask) before slamming his locker door shut and striding off to the bathroom to finish tidying himself up.

When he opened the door to step back out, he almost immediately leaped backwards to find the Pyro staring at him from just outside. He half-expected to see an axe or flamethrower being held at the ready, but Pyro's hands were empty.

...Oh. Perhaps it just needed to use the washroom itself. With a grunt, Spy weaved around it and back into the spawn room. But to his consternation, Pyro followed him.

Finally Spy whirled around to face him. "What?" he snapped.

Pyro said nothing, and turned its head slightly to the side.

Frustration mounting, Spy opened his mouth—

"Mission begins in ten seconds!"

Sniper hurried to the Pyro's side. "Mate, can we have a word? An enemy spy caught me last round, and if you could..."

Spy turned away from the conversation, instead checking over his equipment in preparation for the round.

He wasn't sure what he would've gotten out of talking to that thing, anyway.

—-

The match had gone on as normal, other than Spy doing all he could to avoid Pyro. They'd won another swift victory and returned to their base to cool off.

After hanging behind the others to make sure he wasn't tailed by anyone again, Spy quickly found himself in his smoking room, sitting on his chair and facing the fireplace. He had a fire going—entirely unnecessarily for all but atmosphere—and a book open on his lap, a glass of wine at his side. A few drags from his cigarette and a few sips of wine were quickly taking the edge off of the events of the day's match.

A victory, yes. But with more than a few things that bothered him.

Pyro had, of course, realized that Spy had been... well, spying on it. But what it planned to do with that information, Spy had no clue. It had yet to attack him, and he didn't much enjoy being watched by that creature every second it was around him.

It didn't help that he had no way to actually ask the Pyro anything. It couldn't talk intelligibly to begin with, and now it was refusing to vocalize at all. What was he supposed to do? Give it a pen and paper? He didn't even know if it could read or write, let alone hold a pen in its creepy claws.

Sighing, he tried to turn his focus to the book he'd pulled off his shelf. He could figure this out another time—for now, he only wished to unwind.

Of course, no one else in this stupid base seemed to agree.

THUD. THUD.

Spy's lips pulled back in a grimace. "Who is it? What do you want?" he called out, letting the annoyance edge into his voice. Hopefully whoever it was would pick up on it and decide to leave him alone for once.

He gave a bitter laugh at the thought, and sure enough, the bothersome person was once again knocking.

THUD. THUD.

"You have got to be kidding me," Spy muttered, setting his book aside and rising from his chair. He strode over to the door. "Who is it?" he demanded.

No response.

Frowning, he opened the door a crack and peered through. Upon seeing nothing, he opened the door wider, and to his consternation, found absolutely no one outside.

Ah. Probably another one of Scout's stupid pranks. Rolling his eyes, he turned around.

The Pyro stood beside the fireplace, staring directly at him.

Spy gave a start, his heart jumping into his throat before his fear turned to anger. "You—?!" he sputtered, then stormed closer. "How did you get in here?!"

Pyro lifted its left hand, pointing at the door.

Spy glanced back at the door. "Yes, hilarious. But how—" He stopped himself, realizing that Pyro had probably sneaked into here before he'd arrived. But then why go through the trouble of distracting...

Tap, tap.

Turning back to Pyro, he realized abruptly that it was holding something, which it had tapped against the side of the fireplace. It took him a moment to realize it was the book he'd just been reading. "...Wait."

Pyro's head jerked toward the fireplace, and it held the book out.

Spy gave a start. "Don't you dare."

And Pyro tossed the book into the fire, setting it ablaze, and pointed at the burning book.

"Sacré bleu!" he cried, bolting over to the fireplace. "What have you done?!"

The Pyro's head snapped back in his direction, and it pointed at the fire with more emphasis.

Spy stumbled to a halt beside the Pyro and returned its gaze, staring at the reflection of flames in the creature's dark goggles. For a moment he could see himself in Pyro's room the night prior, the creature staring at him through—or with—those same dark lenses. The memory of it sharply brought him back to reality, and he followed where the Pyro was pointing, staring at the pages of the book as they curled and blackened in the flames. After watching this for a second, he looked back.

Pyro gave a brief nod, and reached for him.

"Mon dieu!" Spy stumbled back. "What are you—?!"

Pyro exhaled a sharp breath through its filter, and took a step toward him. Its suit and mask gleamed in the light of the fire, and it made a grab for him.

With a yelp, Spy stumbled back again, looking from the fire to Pyro and quickly realizing what the thing intended to do. Without another word, he bolted for the door.

Yet Pyro had somehow anticipated his move, and swerved to block him. It held one hand out, palm forward, and its breathing was heavy through its filter.

Spy's heart pounded, but he glared. "Out of my way, you mush-mouthed freak!"

To his fury, the Pyro shook its head, and reached for him again.

Later, Spy would tell himself that it was purely on instinct. Maybe it was. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, the next thing he knew he had flipped open his butterfly knife and was swinging his arm in a stab. At the last moment he realized what was happening, and adjusted the stab into an awkward slash, tearing across the Pyro's arm.

Maybe because he was expecting it, he thought he heard a strained noise after the slash. But he was more concerned with rushing to the other side of the room, hoping to find another way to get around that deadly creature. But to his surprise, it was already hurrying out of the room, one hand grasping its injured arm. He watched it leave, and, once he was sure it was gone, hurriedly shut and latched the door behind it.

The room now secured, he stumbled back to his chair, numbly retrieving a cloth from his pocket and cleaning the blade of his knife. As he picked up his wine glass to down it, he happened to glance at the cloth, staring at the mix of blood and soot that was smeared across it.

Why had he ever gotten involved?

[virgoilluminati]

World Class

Chapter 5

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A/N: Hey guys I'm sorry for being MIA. Currently juggling uni, work and I've not really have any time to write anything. But hey this has been in my drafts for ages and I just thought I'd post it. I'm not sure if anyone still reads this but I thought I would post it anyways 🤷🏻‍♀️❤️

y/nmorrison

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y/nmorrison unbothered

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y/nno.1fan not her posting this as a direct response to the papz 😂

user199 absolutely iconic behaviour

user10 @user199 period 👌🏻

leahwilliamson missin you'

y/nmorrison @leahwilliamson see you soon💕

In the midst of the flight, your mind carried you into a vivid dream, immersing you in the memory of her brother Noah's final match.

As you watched from the dream's vantage point, the 87th minute had arrived, and the stadium's atmosphere was charged with anticipation. The game had been deadlocked between Man United and Chelsea, and your collective yearning for a breakthrough was almost palpable. The roars of the fans echoed through the air, creating a symphony of hope and excitement.

You heard the commentators' voices resonating around you, their words narrating the unfolding drama with a palpable intensity:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're entering the 87th minute of this gripping encounter between Man United and Chelsea. The tension in the air is electric, and fans from both sides are on the edge of their seats, hoping for a game-changing moment."

"And here comes a substitution that could shift the dynamics of this match. Man United's coach has signaled for Morrison, the young talent who recently joined the team. He's known for his exceptional speed and technique. Could this be the turning point the Red Devils need?"

Noah was a recent addition to the Man United team, was subbed in, his presence on the field instantly injecting a renewed energy. His every move was a testament to his skill and determination. The ball found his feet, and like a conductor guiding an orchestra, he orchestrated a series of seamless passes that left the defenders scrambling. With each calculated move, Man United approached Chelsea's goal, closing in with a sense of purpose that was almost palpable.

The sequence unfolded repeatedly, a mesmerizing dance of skill and strategy that held you in rapt attention. And then, it happened. The ball was at Noah's feet, and he sprinted forward with a burst of speed that left defenders in his wake. With breathtaking precision, he launched the ball with a combination of power and finesse, sending it soaring into the top corner of the net. The stadium erupted in a euphoric roar, a crescendo of collective joy that reverberated through the air.

Amid the jubilation, the clamor of camera shutters began to punctuate the atmosphere. The paparazzi had descended upon the scene, their initial excitement palpable.

"Pictures of Noah's triumphant moment! Get the shots!"

"Look at him go! The focus, the determination—it's all there!"

As the dream continued, the atmosphere shifted, the camera clicks growing insistent, mingling with hushed, possessive whispers:

"Capture every angle!"

"That's my shot! Back off!"

"Wait, is that his sibling? Get a shot of them too!"

The once-positive commentary became a jumble of voices, each photographer vying for the perfect shot, their possessiveness growing as the scene intensified. Your dream had morphed into a cacophony of conflicting motives, reflecting the invasive nature of fame.

Amid this chaos, Noah's voice cut through, stern and protective:

"Enough! Give us some space!"

A particularly aggressive paparazzo seemed undeterred, reaching out toward you:

"Hey, pretty lady! Over here!"

In an instant, Noah was by your side, a protective arm around you as he pushed the paparazzo back:

"Back off! Leave her alone!"

The confrontation escalated, the paparazzo's voice melding with others as the scene dissolved into a clash of desires and boundaries. Noah's voice was strong and determined as he tried to carve a path through the crowd:

"Move aside! Let us through!"

But the throng of paparazzi seemed insurmountable, their intentions increasingly overwhelming.

As you and Noah attempted to leave, the paparazzi's fervor escalated. Your voice rose above the chaos:

"Get out of the way! You're blocking us!"

But they persisted, their attempts to capture the moment turning invasive.

Noah's anxiety grew palpable as he navigated the chaos:

"Y/N, they're following us! This isn't stopping!"

Panicked, you tried to calm him:

"Noah, we'll be fine. Just keep driving."

As you continued, the scene shifted with startling abruptness. A blinding light engulfed the dream, accompanied by the sound of a deafening crash. The world seemed to spin as your heart raced, the final, tragic moments playing out before you.

Awakening with a jolt, your breath was ragged, your heart aching with the intensity of your emotions. The dream had cruelly transported you back to that fateful day, replaying the overwhelming chaos, the fear, and the unbearable loss with a sadistic precision. You wiped away tears, your mind overwhelmed by memories of Noah's triumphs and the profound love they had shared. Ever since the incident with Jude, it felt like the paparazzi had become a relentless specter, haunting every aspect of your life.

It was the incident with Jude that had triggered the nightmare about your brother, dredging up the haunting memories of that fateful night when you had lost Noah forever. The trauma had lain dormant within you, buried beneath layers of grief and resilience, until the intrusion of the paparazzi had torn open old wounds.

You had always known that being the sister of a footballer came with a certain lack of privacy. From the moment your brother had entered the professional spotlight, you'd seen the media attention, the intrusive interviews, and the constant scrutiny. You had accepted it as a part of your lives, a necessary evil that came with the fame and fortune.

But what you hadn't realized was just how little privacy you would truly have. It wasn't merely the occasional paparazzi photo or interview request; it was the unending invasion, the relentless pursuit of every facet of your existence. It your the feeling of being stripped bare, your every emotion, her every move, laid bare for the world to see.

The tragic loss of your brother had brought a brief respite from the constant intrusion. It was as if, in the wake of Noah's death, the paparazzi had briefly recognized the depths of their trespasses and retreated. During that brief interlude, you had dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, you could regain some semblance of a private life..

But the bitter truth remained—you hated the paparazzi with every fiber of you being. They seemed determined to snatch away even the smallest moments of joy you could find, turning them into spectacles for the world to gawk at. It was a constant battle between your love for the sport and your loathing for the invasion of your privacy.

As soon as you made your way back to camp, the match against Nigeria awaited you. Sarina had already warned that by going to see your boyfriend during camp, the likelihood of starting or playing given the lack of training was slim. You loved football but you loved Jude more and it was important you could be there for him. Besides the England women's lineup was secure and everyone felt ready for the Nigerian side. Or so you thought.

Nigeria vs England.

The anticipation was palpable as fans from both nations gathered at the stadium, their cheers and chants creating a vibrant tapestry of sound. The atmosphere crackled with energy, a testament to the passion and pride that women's football had ignited across the globe.

As the two teams lined up on the pitch, the sun-kissed field seemed to shimmer with the promise of an unforgettable match. England, with their rich history in women's football, exuded confidence, while Nigeria, known for their flair and tenacity, were determined to make their mark on the world stage

Before the match began, you found herself on the bench, deep in conversation with Beth England. You discussed strategies, potential plays, and ways to exploit the Nigerian defense. Beth's voice was animated as she shared her insights: "Y/N, we've got to work those wings and keep them guessing. Their backline isn't as solid on the left side, so we might be able to create some openings."

You nodded, your mind focused as you absorbed Beth's words. "You're right, Beth. And they can use their speed to catch them off guard. Quick passes and overlapping runs could give us the edge."

As you continued to exchange ideas, the coach's call to get ready for the match interrupted your conversation. With a last encouraging smile, Beth patted Y/N's shoulder: "we've got this."

You returned the smile, a surge of determination coursing through her veins. "I hope so. They will give it their all."

Throughout the match, you, a substitute for this game, experienced the tension from the sidelines. You couldn't bear to watch every moment on the field, feeling the intensity and pressure rising with each near-miss by the Nigerian team. Your heart raced as you observed, your fingers tightly interlocked, your gaze shifting from the action to the scoreboard, and back again. The close calls by the Nigerian attackers had your heart leaping into your throat, and you felt a sense of helplessness not being able to impact the game directly from her position on the bench.

You found yourself almost involuntarily standing up, clenching her fists, and then sinking back down in nervous anticipation as the Nigerian forwards seemed to breach the English defense. Your support for your team was unwavering, but the sight of the Nigerian team coming so close to scoring made you nearly unable to watch. Each almost-goal left you breathless, urging your teammates on with silent cheers, hoping and praying for England to hold their ground.

Your mind raced with the desire to step onto the pitch and make a difference, yet you knew your role was to support from the sidelines. The adrenaline of the game pulsated through your veins as you sat, eagerly awaiting a chance to contribute.

You knew that the decision to risk visiting you boyfriend in Madrid had come at a cost — sacrificing the opportunity to step onto the pitch. As the match unfolded, your mind oscillated between the thrilling atmosphere of the stadium and the longing to be out there, contributing to the game you loved. The internal struggle you faced was evident, torn between the desire to support Jude and the burning passion to be a part of the on-field action.

The disappointment of not being on the pitch during such a crucial game left you crestfallen. Your eagerness to have a shot at playing, to feel the rush of adrenaline in a high-stakes match, collided with the choice she had made. The conflict within you grew more poignant with each passing moment.

As the clock wound down and the game headed into extra time, you found yourself in a whirlwind of emotions. The missed opportunities on the field mirrored the inner turmoil you experienced, a battle between personal desires and professional commitments. The adrenaline and longing for a chance to make a difference on the pitch remained, juxtaposed against the heartache of the decision you had made.

Even amid the tense silence before the looming penalty shootout, you couldn’t shake the sorrow of missing a chance to play. The price of being a spectator instead of a participant in such a crucial match was a bitter pill to swallow. The conflict between personal life and your career in that pivotal moment lingered in your thoughts, a struggle you knew you'd have to come to terms with.

In the midst of her internal conflict, your attention snapped back to the present as you heard Sarina, delving into the potential players for the upcoming shootout, considering Reece James’s departure due to a red card. The intensity heightened as the anticipation of the looming penalty shootout filled the stadium.

Caught in your thoughts, you were shaken from her reverie by Beth’s hushed whisper. “They said your name, Y/N.”

Surprised, your heart skipped a beat as you realized that despite not being on the field during the game, you might have a chance to contribute during the crucial moments of the shootout. The sudden surge of hope mingled with a flood of emotions—surprise, disbelief, and a glimmer of opportunity.

Your mind whirled as you tried to process the unexpected turn of events. Despite the sacrifices made and the emotional conflict within, the prospect of potentially stepping onto the field for the penalties reignited a spark of determination within you. With a mix of apprehension and renewed purpose, you found yourself drawn into the immediate strategy discussions, your focus shifting entirely to the coach’s plan and the team’s preparation for the decisive shootout.

Before you knew it, amidst the restless energy, Sarina made her way toward the bench. Your heart raced as the coach’s gaze fixed upon her, and a mix of anticipation and apprehension filled her being. Sarina’s eyes met yours, and a moment of intense silence passed between them. The coach’s expression held a blend of serious contemplation and a hint of reassurance.

"Your up Morrison."

lionessess & england

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england Morrisons penalty gives us hope still for our squad. England vs Nigeria 4:2 penalties.

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user1891 absolute legend. 🔥

user1002 Comes off the bench and scores an absolute beauty! 👌🏻

user5678 does this mean she may be replacing Reece James in starting lineup??!!!

The rest of the shootout felt like a blur for you, still unable to truly comprehend what had just happened. You stood at the penalty spot, ready to take the crucial shot. The crowd murmured with curiosity, wondering about the decision to bring you on for this pivotal moment.

Amidst the tension, the supportive voices of your teammates resonated:

“Show them what you’re made of, Y/N! You’ve got this!” Kelly’s voice rang out with unwavering support.

“Give it your all! We believe in you!” Bronze’s encouraging words echoed through the stadium.

“You’ve trained for this, Y/N. We’re right behind you!” Walsh’s voice joined the chorus, reflecting the team’s solidarity.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you approached the penalty spot. The weight of the world seemed to rest upon your shoulders—the hopes of your team, the expectations of the fans, and your own personal journey. Yet, amid the pressure, a sense of calm overcame you. You remembered your dream, the vision of your brother, and the promise you had made to yourself.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. The stadium seemed to fade away as you focused solely on the ball, the goal, and the profound connection you felt with your brother, Noah.

“3”

“2”

“1”

You struck the ball, and it sailed into the net—an unstoppable shot that left the goalkeeper rooted to the spot.

The crowd erupted in cheers, their jubilation a symphony of voices from every corner of the world. You were engulfed by your teammates, their celebration a testament to the unity and spirit of the game. You raised your arms in triumph, feeling a profound connection to your brother, as if he had been with you every step of the way.

Among the cheers and celebrations, Lucy Bronze approached you with a warm smile. She placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned in to speak softly: “I knew you had it in you. That goal was pure magic. From now on, consider me your big sister on and off the pitch.”

Your eyes glistened with emotion as you looked at Bronze, your heart swelling with gratitude. You nodded, your voice filled with sincerity: “Thank you, Lucy. That means the world to me.”

The match against Nigeria ended with the opposing team emerging victorious. Your penalty would forever be etched in the annals of football history. The Women’s World Cup of 2023 had delivered more than just a match; it had offered a spectacle of skill, heart, and the power of determination. And for you, it had been a moment of closure, a fulfillment of your promise to play not just for yourself but for your late brother, Noah—a promise that had propelled you to victory on the grandest stage of all.

In the dressing room after the victory, you felt exhilarated. The team’s atmosphere was electric, filled with jubilation. You were showered with affection from all the players, sharing in the joy of your success.

“Y/N, you were incredible out there! We couldn’t have done it without you!” Millie Bright’s words resonated through the room.

You blushed, responding, “Thanks, Millie! It was a team effort!”

Millie then playfully lifted you onto her shoulders, and the rest of the team joined in, singing and dancing, their voices echoing through the room, capturing the elation of your victory.

As you celebrated, Sarina Wiegman, the coach, grinned from the corner of the room. “What a fantastic performance, ladies! We’re through to the quarter-finals, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

lucybronze

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lucybronze This one, @y/nmorrison secured us the quarter finals. Never been prouder ❤️

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leahwilliamson a goat 🔥

keirawalsch thats my girl! 💕

milliebright an absolute star 🌟

bethengland trooper ✨👌🏻

user4728: stop! The girls are all hyping y/n up!! Cryin' 🥹🥹

Exiting the buzzing dressing room, you stepped outside, seeking a moment of solitude. As you pulled out your phone, a familiar pang of longing for home washed over you. With a mix of hope and anticipation, you dialed home, hoping to catch up with your dad.

The phone rang a few times before diverting to voicemail. Disappointment flickered momentarily before a notification indicated a new voicemail.

As you listened to the message, the voice of your dad, filled with pride and joy, flooded your ears. “Hey, Y/N! I just watched the game, and you were incredible out there. Your brother would have been so proud of you. We all are. Keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart. We’re cheering for you all the way from home. Love you.”

A rush of emotions welled up inside you. Your father’s unwavering support and acknowledgment were a reminder of the incredible network of encouragement and love you had back home. It felt as if your family was there with you, celebrating this significant moment.

[thekingofwinterblog]

Oghren Branka - A Broken Dwarf

Out of all of the original Dragon Age Origins companions, I've always found Oghren to be the most fascinating one in how rare it is to see someone actually do a full breakdown of the alcoholic, berserker dwarf, despite arguably having the most interesting and deep under the surface aspects to his character.

So i'll rectify that here, by doing a full delve into Ogren as a character, and the rather tragic tale of the last member of house Branka.

Oghren was a member of Orzammar's warrior caste, bred, born, and raised to be a warrior, a role that by all accounts he excelled at.

Oghren is famous for being probably the biggest alcoholic in the franchise, but according to lore, this actually wasn't a part of his personality before way later down the line, and came about due to a spiral downwards.

Oghren, like all warrior caste dwarves was raised to be an absolute killing machine, who's life was going to be devoted to killing darkspawn, and killing more darkspawn, and then killing more darkspawn.

This part of his life, Oghren excelled at. He was great at killing his enemies from day one, and won fame and glory.

Unfortunately, the thing that defined Oghren as a person, was the very brutal struggle, of, and Bioware's take on how hard it is for soldiers to reintegratd into societies after their states does everything they can to make them into tools for killing.

And in Oghren's case, this began with his family.

When young, Oghren was interested in a young woman named Felsi.

The two hit it off quite well, only for Oghren to be forced into a political marriage with a certain woman named Branka from the smithing caste, a political match that was seen as mutually beneficial at the time.

This marriage was the single worst thing that ever happened to Oghren and everyone he had ever cared about.

Branka would in very short time rise to become a Paragon, the only one in living memory, a living ancestor in Dwarven Society, making her the most powerful and influential woman in Orzammar, but that part is not the one I want to focus on.

Instead I want to focus on Oghren and Branca's relationship, and how it quickly fell apart.

Their relationship started okay, and in the first year there doesn't seem to have been that many problems. Things would change however.

Branca, as we learn from Oghren's talk had plenty of serious mental issues, like massive and spontaneous mood swings, and a tendency for sudden violence for the smallest offenses.

The innitial target of which seems to have been her her husband Oghren.

Oghren makes no secret of the fact that Branca was pretty violent with him, in particular the fact that she seriously damaged the hearing on one of his ears, and once attacked him for misplacing her tongs.

Also, there is a bit of subtleness to Oghren's design that adds to how bad this relationship became for him.

Oghren has a permanent injury around one of his eyes, which makes it look like he's always squinting. The most likely culprint being his wife hitting him with something heavy and blunt, which never healed properly, giving him his iconic squinty eyed look.

We don't have anything to suggest Oghren ever actually defending himself physically from his wife, but if his own testimony is to be believed, their usual way of making up after one of these outbursts was makeup sex, which suggest that there was a rather sad cycle of spousal abuse, regret, then make up in the form of sex, then another bout of abuse, then rinse and repeat.

The usual cycle really.

Things got more complicated however, once Branka became a paragon, putting her firmly above her husband in rank as far as she could go.

And it's here that Oghren's life really began to take a turn for the worst, and where the drunkard who drowns himself in alchohol to try and forget how shitty his life is really began.

In very short succession, Branka, likely due to the mounting pressure upon her after becoming paragon, turned far worse towards Oghren, and their marriage began to rapidly crumble. But her becoming paragon had other consequences as well, the most obvious being that Branka became the head of the household, and absorbed Oghren's entire family into the new house of Branca under her.

Branka then began to shun Oghren completely, making her disdain for him open for all to see, while also cuckolding him with his own cousin Hespith(though Oghren wouldn't learn about that until years later).

This in turn, made Oghren's entire family follow suit, and he was quickly completely isolated and shut off from his own family, the same family that forced him into this marriage in the first place.

Oghren had already begun drinking to try and cope with his failing marriage at this point, and the way his entire family turned their back on him to please Branka just kicked that dependence off the deep end.

Then Branka committed herself to her great folly, and over Oghren's objections, took their entire family with them on her mad quest into the deep roads for a magical anvil... While forcing Oghren to stay behind so she could get to fuck her lover hespith on the side as she pleased without him around.

Needless to say, though Oghren didn't completely understand the full reasons for why everyone considered him a laughingstock at this point(the relationahip with Hespith was an open secret in Orzammar) , he kore than felt the effects of being alone, forgotten and abandoned by his family in a city that ridiculed him while still demanding he go out and kill darkspawn for them.

It was at this point that the Oghren we all know really began, as Oghren drowned himself in booze, embraced terrible jokes, and became the man with the most inappropriate pick up lines there is, desperate for anyone to give him any affection at all.

It was at this point Oghren for the first time cheated on his declared dead wife, seeking out Felsi. The renewed relationship did not last long. Oghren's downward spiral had already completely changed his personality, and she quickly left him.

At this point, Oghren really was at his lowest. Abandoned by everyone he had ever loved, alone, only having booze for comfort, and still having to regularly go out and fight darkspawn.

It's also here we see some of Oghren's hidden noble side, as at one single point he refused to buckle on, and that was his wife's fate.

Oghren refused(correctly) to assume Branka was dead and would pester the government time, and time, and time again to send out a rescue party to find her and bring her home.

Nobody took him seriously, and instead treated him like a joke... All the way until a young noble mocked Branka in his hearing and made it plain for all to hear that Branka could not possibly have survived that long in the deep roads.

The end result was that Oghren, in a drunk rage challenged the young man to a duel, then killed him, when it was supposed to be a duel to first blood.

Oghren thus changed from drunk pest, to dangerous pest.

In the end he was stripped of his house and the right to bear arms or fight in the city ever again, but was still demanded he fought darkspawn when the time came.

Oghren talks about this in his conversations with the Warden, how the city would turn their warriors into killing machines, strip them of all rules, morals and thoughts except kill and kill, and kill some more... Then put them right back into society, and bind them, and the rage they spent so long training you harness with rules and regulations. Add this with the fact that they will still demand you go out an fight at a moment's notice, it's not hard to see how warriors like Oghren came to be.

It's at this point Oghren has hit seeming rock bottom.

Alone, a joke in a city that will alternate between mocking, and spit on him, no right to defend himself, while still having to go go out and risk life and limb for it.

The only thing that keeps him going at this point, is the desperate hope that Branka and his family might still be alive.

Which brings us to the one soul who might bring him out of his stupor, depending on player choices.

The Hero of Ferelden.

The Hero of Ferelden scoffs at the claims Branka is dead and delves into the deep roads, and takes Oghren along for the ride, looking for her.

It's here that Oghren begins to form some sort of personal bonds again, where he will find the one person who is willing to put up with him, and all his flaws and possibly see him as a friend.

As the team heads into the deep roads however, they discover the horrible truth.

Branka, in her madness and desperate search for the anvil, sacrificed Oghren's entire family to the darkspawn, intentionally creating broodmothers so she'd have a never ending supply of darkspawn pawns to throw at the anvil defences.

It's not really given the full focus it deserves, because Oghren isn't the kind of person who just lets out absolutely everything, but this moment, this revelation destroys Oghren.

It's the moment where he pretty much just gives up on life, and only follows the Warden around to find a place to die.

In the end, regardless of what you do, his relationship with Branka is over at this point, wheter you save or spare her, leaving him with the knowledge that his entire family is dead and gone, and he's the last one.

At this point he becomes what is seemingly nothing more than comic relief, and due to the unfortunate way Orzammar is struxtured, its usually done last before the landsmeet, meanjng most players won't see most of the deeper parts of Oghren, as they require some prodding to see.

Most notably of these is what happens if you bring him to the guardian at the temple, where the old man wants everyone to relay their sins and regrets, only for Oghren to cut him off when his time comes, and say this:

Why don’t I save you some time? Yes, I wish I could have saved my family from Branka. I wish I’d been a better mate. Maybe she’d have stayed at home with a belly full of baby Oghren and never gone for the anvil. Maybe I failed her. Yes, I came to the surface because I’m barely a dwarf anymore. My family is dead. My honor as a warrior is long gone. I’ve lost my caste and my house and I have nothing else to lose.

This display is really, really sad for a number of reasons, not only because of how far down Oghren has fallen at this point, but also because frankly speaking, Oghren did nothing wrong with Branka. He was the victim here, and yet despite that, he still lays all the blame on himself. It was his fault his family died. It was his fault for being a shitty husband. Not Branka's. His.

Beyond this, Oghren has other interesting observations that shows he is quite a bit more impressive than the sorry, alcoholic cassanova wannabe that he acts as.

He's the only character who figures out that Shale actually remembers killing her master, and that she regrets killing him, as rather than a conscious choice, it was a moment of her completely losing control, just like he did in the proving match so long ago.

He also proves himself a bizarrely good brewmaster, impressing Wynne and the warden withouth the proper facilities to make proper alchohol, and he's the only one who offers any plausible counter explanation for the powers of the temple of sacred ashes other than the power of god(which may or may not be on the money.).

He is also learned in history, and knows the andrastian religion and it's historical players very well for a dwarf, even seemingly having a personal disdain for Hessarionz who he calls a pompous prat.

At this point, where he goes from there is up to the PC's choices, but regardless, there is a lot more to Oghren than meets the eye, far more than the stupidly stereotypical dnd dwarf he presents himself as, in a setting where the dwarves are not all the same as Tolkien's.

[caswensworld]

One thing about me is I will always respect a good villain gang when I see one and THIS gang! The gang of Merlin Academy running the shots! No exception. Rent. Was. Due! Disney, from here on out, if your teen villains do not look like these baddies who are serving seductive, poisonous cunt, Respectfully, Ion want it.

So let’s run down the line. Let’s take attendance.

Dara Renee said she looks cute as Ulyana, NOT HOT! OKAY GREEN! Look at her smile! First her daughter, now her sister, Ursula’s family has me in a chokehold and they are never letting me go (and I don’t want them to hehe). This look gives very much Ursula from Once Upon a Time vibes and I love it! So much! I wanna be part of her gang! Like, Ulyana, baby girl, what are you insecure of? I don’t care about Ursula anymore. I got Uma and I got Ulyana, I don’t want Ursula. I’m trying to keep it pg-rated, but…I would let her top me. I want her tentacles all over me, I’m so sorry…I’m not.

Hades has left the Underworld and he is looking sharp! I love leather. I love spikes. I love the whole punk persona! I have a punk persona! So I love the fact that me and Hades, one of my favorite villains…Are the same. Exactly the same. I am going to find a studded leather jacket and choker so we can match. We also got similar taste in music, like Hades, let’s be friends. Let’s start a band. We can call ourselves “Fire!”

Queen Maleficent, Mistress of Darkness may be lurking in the back, but I’m seeing her. Now her horns look a little weird right now but I’m gonna wait for the official posters and pictures with better quality before I start to give my full judgement. But like…y’all, she’s Maleficent, when have we ever had a Maleficent who doesn’t serve with looks, darkness, and attitude? Like, girl, come for Ulyana! Pull Hades! I expect you to use magic! I demand at least ONE Dragon transformation! DEMAND it!

Ulyana is the Captain here, jot that down, but Hook is still serving so let’s have a conversation. Looks are clearly a strength in the Hooks family, so what do the girls look like? The men are handsome, so let’s have the girls do some Justice please. His fit almost exactly replicated the cartoon and I love that. The only problem I have is…where’s the hat? The iconic red hat with the big feather? Disney, he better have that hat. Don’t be playing with me.

Morgie…he’s giving kinda Carlos and Gil vibes. That is indeed a compliment. Now is his outfit as extravagant as the others? No. Is it still good and is he still killing the game? Absolutely. These VKs stay with the drip. Who else is looking good in a scarf? I don’t see anyone else wearing one! Now his mother is said to be the Morgana Le Fay in Sofia the First so…Is our dear Princess in the Descendants Universe lol? Is my girl enrolled in Auradon Prep? Is she with Hugo? I’m sorry, I just find this so funny, where is Enchancia on the Auradon map? Watch Morgie reference this in the movie, I just, I can’t!

One thing about villains is they will always be looking good and I will always be wanting to find a way to thrift their clothing. I can’t wait to see these looks with better qualities

[yns-world]

Never Fade Away

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x Fem!Idol!Reader A/N: Y/S/N = Your Stage Name this is an extension of this, feel free to read :)

2022

nobody said showbiz was easy, but should it border hellish in order for something to change?

you loved johnny, and johnny loved you, that was a fact that you both knew so well— so when did things become so difficult?

in your and johnny’s case, opposites attract. but what you didn’t account for was that opposites also repel. 

both of your lives were constantly in the spotlight, and this relationship even more so. with millions of eyes flicking over every move, every microtransaction, there is barely any room to just be. 

you two were a match made for the stage, nobody could beat the stage presence you two shared when you performed, but this fame was taking a toll on you both. 

in the short year you guys dated, it was like fire and ice. burning hot with passion and then freezing over with frostbite.

but as time went on, the cracks in the relationship began to show. the flaws in you both began to grow bigger and bigger but neither of you knew what to do, so you ignored it. 

but ignoring was the absolute worst thing to do, and now you’re having screaming matches that last for hours, days, and then weeks of silence.

of course, the media is all over this. 

“Johnny Silverhand’s New Victim”

“Y/S/N Seen Storming Out of Silverhand’s Apartment”

things could only go on for so long before you had to cut things off— something that nearly tore you to shreds.

johnny begged, he cried, he pleaded, he waited outside your apartment for hours on end. he damn-near kissed the ground you walked upon just so you would glance at him once more, because in his mind he cannot for the life of him make sense of why the perfect woman would just leave him.

but that’s exactly why you left. you left because he can’t fathom why the relationship was going to hell. you had to break it off because johnny was a sinking ship and you refuse to drown with him, no matter how much you might adore him.

that was johnny's breaking point and he hasn't been the same since.

while he dated you, he created his most iconic and best selling music that topped all the charts. you were his once-in-a-lifetime muse, and the world knew that.

but when you broke up, he lost that spark. his heart strings were torn apart and he couldn't pick up the guitar for months.

the only time he picked up the guitar was to play a solemn a-b-c tune while he recited the tragic poetry of his heart.

he'd release a few more singles that could all be chalked up to a last ditch effort of staring into the void and expelling the demons of his heart.

"Never Fade Away" was the last song johnny ever performed. that song was an homage to your memory and how you'd never fade from his own memories.

2023

it's been a year since you broke up with johnny and it hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows for you, despite what johnny likes to tell the media.

there were countless nights where he was holding you from behind, his steady breath a calm rhythm in your ear, but you'd wake up everytime in a gasp, frantically searching for him on his side of the bed.

it took you months to finally wash the sheets because you wanted his scent to linger for as long as possible. his cologne that mixed with his musk.

the first few months were wretched, but you grew to resent him. deep down you still ached for his touch, but you had to lie and say you wanted him dead, if not, then the aching pain of his memory would kill you first.

august 20th, 2023. a day that was supposed to blur into the past endless days, but the last thing you expected was to see the man of your dreams—and nightmares—wearing a bulletproof vest and riding in a militech helicopter.

similarly, the last thing johnny expected was to see the architect of his heartbreak walking out of the Arasaka building.

waves of emotions flashed across his face—awe, joy, hurt, and finally resentment. 

johnny's scowl deepened and his resolve strengthened. Arasaka was not only the architect of his filthy world, but also stole the love of his life.

it wasn't rational to think that, but when has johnny ever been rational?

just moments before, johnny only planned to tear down the building. but now that he's seen you—walking out of that corrupt building with all of your lavish clothes and accessories—his aim shifted.

Arasaka stole everything from him. they ruined him. he has nothing left to lose.

in that moment, he made his peace with death. 

he overtook the machine gun and let out a visceral warcry that he’s been choking down for years— everyone would pay for his pain and suffering. 

august 21st, 2023, the very next day. over 4,000 dead, a crazy terrorist group, and you at the epicenter of it all.

some would brush you off as irrelevant, others would dub you as the “terrorist’s girlfriend”, blaming you for the demise of a beloved singer. 

but despite the chaos of the outside world, you could feel your internal universe crumble. johnny’s body hasn’t been found yet but you are sure that he’s gone. 

you’re so sure because you felt the deepest part of your soul chip off. the connection is severed. there’s a void inside of you, and you know all-too-well what johnny used to say about an abyss.

“If you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you.”

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :) DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, and comments are what keep writers going &lt;3 i'm open to cyberpunk requests so feel free to send me one <3 also, lmk if y'all wanna see more idol!reader content and/or have any ideas since i'm kinda rocking with it :) as always, have a great day and i'll see y'all in the next one <3

[lamaisongaga]

    FASHION CREDITS: JAZZ & PIANO SHOW 4.0

Lady Gaga made a triumphant return to Las Vegas where she'll be staying until July to complete another round of her highly sought-after Jazz & Piano residency shows! And of course, she brought a whole new batch of costumes styled by Sandra Amador and Tom Eerebout along with her.

Makeup by Sarah Tanno-Stewart using custom 3D lashes by Face Lace.

First, we‘re hopping onto our virtual plane where I‘ll be taking you to Marbella, Spain to once again meet with young fashion designer Adrián Manceras who‘s kind enough to let us take a look in his atelier where he crafted Gaga‘s opening number: a fabulous cocktail dress showered in champagne sequins, finest crystals and delicate fringe trimmings!

I can‘t help but notice how Gaga sticks to the same designer when it comes to the opening number‘s look. From headpiece down to the shoes. Yet, she changes the design every time she comes back to Vegas.

Here, she‘s donning yet another insane showgirl-inspired headdress with turkey feathers and Swarovski crystals by the ever-so talented Arturo Rios who sent me this image JUST for your eyes!

The Italian-American entertainer topped her look off with a new custom pair of Laruicci crystal statement earrings

Her favorite Jimmy Choo metallic silver Anouk stiletto pumps provided the finishing touches.

The choice of purple was as unexpected as the combination of sequins, feathers (provided by Mother Plucker Feather Company), and PVC. Yet, this look struck me the most, standing out in a sea of bold fashion statements!

Delving into La Maison Gaga reveals an intriguing history behind her glamorous wardrobe. LA-based designer Michael Costello has been crafting stunning caftans for Gaga for a decade. His journey with her began in 2014 when he designed a sequined piece similar to this one for her "Cheek to Cheek! Live" performance . This collaboration marked the start of a creative partnership that has since produced numerous iconic looks, each more dazzling than the last.

Michael also collaborated with Gladys Tamez Millinery on the halo-like black feather pillbox headpiece!

New York City-based heritage jewelry brand A.JAFFE created some of the earrings, including these teardrop stunners!

Gaga surprised her audience last night with a special rendition of "Americano". It‘s been 12 years since she performed that song!

For this act of the show, Perry Meek whipped out a stunning dress even Jessica Rabbit wouldn't pass upon.

Crafted from red crystal mesh, this dress features an off-the-shoulder hourglass silhouette, trimmed with red ostrich feathers. And it comes with a matching coat!

Her Harriet wired red feather fascinator is a hand-made piece by Carrie Jenkinson Millinery ($331.79), one of the UK's leading fashion milliners.

This white-gold crescent earring set surrounded by differently cut diamonds is another A.JAFFE design.

And I hope I’m not the only one who‘s drooling over these Jimmy Choo Romy crystal-encrusted red pumps.

Eat your heart out, Dorothy!

Then, Gaga stuns on stage in a total Giorgio Armani look which comprises this plush black velvet strapless bustier column dress with crystal band embellishment ($4,777) and the Fall/Winter 2018 Privé Haute Couture pink ostrich feather coat she previously wore for her V Magazine 2019 cover!

LG debuted a bunch of new looks on her second night and the uber-talented Michael Costello had another wonder up his sleeve when he revealed this stunner to me yesterday morning - a custom sparkly black and gold sequin silk chiffon caftan with incorporated metal belt, shoulder pads, plunging neck and daring open sides, based on Michael's upcoming "DNA" collection!

He also created her matching custom ruched faux leather gloves and feather boa in collaboration with Mother Plucker Feather Company.

What's a good jazz stage look without a fun plummeted hat to top it off? British milliner Carrie Jenkinson Millinery made sure to exceed stagewear standards with her Spring/Summer 2024 Selina feather hat (£520).

Her go-to performance shoes: the timeless Jimmy Choo Anouk black patent leather pumps ($675).

Malaysian couture design house Rizman Ruzaini joined the game by crafting a show-stopping red chiffon cape dress showered in Swarovski crystals. Thanks so much for these exclusive behind-the-seams photos!

She also brought back her Larisa Barrera vintage 1993 crystal necklace from The Way We Wore.

Gaga gave us an epic performance of "La Vie En Rose", dressed in rose silk satin caftan-style layered dress with stripped coque feathers, custom-made for her by Ukrainian fashion label Santa Brands.

This look was completed with a bunch of stellar accessories, including the Carrie Jenkinson Millinery Spring/Summer 2024 Valencia exploding feather fascinator (£579)...

...the Swarovski Millenia octagon-cut crystal bib necklace...

... and the Cornelia James Melissa opera-length black velvet gloves (£160).

[gritsandbrits]

My interpretation of Lilli from Tabaluga

I just got into Tabaluga lore and I adore Tabaluga x Lilli. So imagine my disappointment when I found out she only appeared once in the 90s cartoon :[

I took it upon myself to create a design for her. I want her to look more like a Main Character, using elements of the musical and official illustrations + my own headcanons.

For her hair gave her Curly/wavy texture to represent clouds. Imagine they take on a magical mist form. Since she's technically Arktos' daughter I gave her yellow eyes to match, as well as to contrast her color palette.

I intended to make her look more princess-y in line with the trend at the time. I tried to keep the basic silhouette of her iconic dresses with extra details to stand out. I gave her puffy sleeves to represent snowballs, some skirts have jagged layered, whole others are solid and basic for animation.

Forgot to add but she wears a tiara to complement Arktos's hat, it's made from icicles and colored a simple blue to stand out from her hair

Now for story: Arktos carves her from ice and uses her to bait Tabalufs, ofc they fall in loce and succeed over Arktos's plan. Lilli runs away with Tabaluga to the Greenlands. From there she and Tabaluga unites both lands against Arktos, Lilli herself learning to be more "human" ironically she already had humanity to begin with. That your background doesn't always define you. She accompanies Tabaluga on many of his journeys essentially she ends up being in a lot of canon episodes.

Ability: After joining the Greenland's she is taught how to defend herself in case Tabaluga isn't around. She learns to create illusions with her ice magic, and given a magic dance ribbon she can use as a lasso & grappling hook.