#shes my best friend shes my everything shes silly she makes me so emotional

[crowsgrudge]

fionna's world being represented by a dandelion makes so much sense ... they're weeds. yet people make wishes through them, changing their whole meaning from something meant to be destroyed to something hopeful.

dandelions are also resilient and it makes sense that something associated with them would. you know. perservere despite the destruction caused by the scarab.

but ultimately i think what REALLY made me tear up over this is that dandelions are really boring plants. when you're a kid you blow on them and make your wish but they're not eyecatching or anything but still, fionna's final wish was for her old world to still exist as it was when she left it (> plain and simple. boring even).

like the moment she realized she would lose her friends, and that her friends might forget each other if the world got its magic back, she immediately decided she didn't want it and I think that ties back to the dandelion metaphor so well... like, do you really need magic to be real to find it everywhere? or can you turn something boring into something magical?

[rootbeerworshiper]

means something

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure

warnings: angst lol

a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different

love, sienna <3

you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.

but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.

‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.

it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.

but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.

he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.

that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.

April 17th, 2022

dear Matt,

i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.

it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.

i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.

how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.

“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.

“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.

it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.

“wait someone sent the letters?”

“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”

“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”

the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”

“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.

“i thought you’d come around Matt”

now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.

along with this, i know everything about you.

i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.

i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.

i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.

i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.

whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.

“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.

he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”

i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”

“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”

i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.

you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.

how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?

i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.

we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.

“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.

“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.

“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”

“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”

“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.

but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.

it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”

it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.

i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.

you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?

i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.

that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.

i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.

this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.

i just have one question for you.

did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.

i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.

but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.

anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.

i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.

thanks for listening, y/n.

you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.

it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.

regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.

a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia

[theostrophywife]

Can I get a FIC abt the reader being Theodore’s gf and best friend and she’s embarrassed and alone in her dorm bc of cramps and they are REALLY REALLY bad and he just comforts her and they snuggle and he gives her his hoodie and fluffy!! (I’m dying from my cramps in my bed rn 🙏 I need comfort from my book bf)

heart shaped bruises.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: toothpaste kisses by the maccabees.

author's note: i'm so sorry you're in pain, love. hope this makes you feel better 💗

Bloody fucking hell. 

You clutched your stomach, doubling over in pain as another wave of cramps crashed into you at full force. An anti period pain potion. That would be your first invention after finishing your education at Hogwarts. For now, you were forced to endure the pain and misery sans magic. 

The clock on your nightstand rang obnoxiously, rattling the various barrettes and books stacked atop the table. The alarm meant that Charms would be starting soon. With a rather hard smack, you silenced the clock and buried yourself underneath the covers. 

There was no way in hell that you were going to make it to class today.

You couldn’t even get out of bed, let alone walk to the other side of the castle. No, you were staying right here. Cocooned in the safety of your blankets so you could wallow in self pity in peace. 

Apparently, suffering in silence was too much to ask for because the minute the alarm finally stopped, there was a knock on your door. 

“Go away,” you yelled, the words slightly muffled by your goose down comforter. 

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called from the other side of the door. “Are you alright, love?”

Tears pricked the back of your eyes. No, you were definitely not alright. Your uterus was an active war zone, your emotions were a poorly assembled rollercoaster in an abandoned theme park, and to top it all off, you had a raging headache like someone had taken a bludger to your skull. 

But you couldn’t say all of that. You didn’t want to freak your boyfriend out. 

“I’m fine, Theo. Just feeling under the weather.” You clamped your eyes shut, trying to block out the migraine. “Go to class without me.”

There was shuffling from the hallway before your door swung open, revealing a very concerned Theo. He took in the sight of you in bed, your cheeks flushed and your eyes red from crying all morning. Theo was by your side in three strides. 

“What’s wrong, dolcezza?”

“Nothing, I’m just not feeling well.” A fresh set of cramps chose that exact moment to pummel your lower abdomen, making you wince in pain. 

“That’s not nothing, darling.” He knelt beside you, taking your hand. “Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N. I hate seeing you in pain.”

Your eyes watered again. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Of course not, love.”

“It’s these cramps,” you said slowly, shifting to face him. “I’m on my period and it’s just really bad today. Usually I take a pain relieving potion, but even that’s not working this time around.”

Theo’s face softened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You averted his gaze, flushing. “I guess I was embarrassed. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“It is a big deal,” said Theo. “Everything that has to do with you is a big deal to me. I hate thinking that you’ve been suffering through this all alone.”

“I just didn’t want to bother you with something so silly.”

“You could never bother me, Y/N.” Theo gently pulled back the covers. “If anything I’m the one bothering you right now. Scoot over, darling. Make room for your Teddy.”

“But you’ll miss Charms.”

“I’ve skipped for less. This time it’s actually important. You need me. I’m not leaving you.”

You smiled softly and made room for Theo. He instantly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a snuggle. The familiar scent of sea salt and smoke felt like a warm hug in itself. Theo stroked your hair and kissed your temple. 

The cold air seeped in through your frosted glass windows, chilling you to the core. As much as you loved the ominous charm of living in the dungeons, this was one of its disadvantages. You shivered in Theo’s arms, cuddling closer for warmth. 

Your boyfriend radiated heat. You had no idea how when it was near freezing in your dorm. Theo liked to say he was hot blooded. You were just grateful to have your own personal heater. 

“Are you cold, darling?” 

You nodded, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “A little.”

Theo shifted beside you. He tugged at the hem of his hoodie and pulled it off in one swift move. “Arms up, love.”

You sat upright and did what you were told. Theo slipped his hoodie over you, smiling as the plush fabric swallowed you whole. It was warm and smelled like him. You wanted to drown in it. 

He kissed the tip of your nose. “It looks good on you, but don’t think that it gets you out of cuddling.” 

Theo pulled you to him, snuggling you from behind. He twined your legs together, making you giggle as his leg hair tickled the back of your thighs. You intertwined your fingers and kissed the back of his palm. 

The cramps may still be wreaking havoc on your body, but at least now you had Theo to comfort you. 

“How are you feeling, babe?” 

You turned, smiling. “Better now that you’re here, Teddy.”

Theo grinned and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. “Get some rest, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Champion

Alessia Russo x Reader

Summary: You're riding a high and make sure to keep it going

The minutes on the clock were ticking down and you shifted on your feet.

Everything depended on this match and with Bayern Munich only up by one goal, it was up to you to make sure it stayed that way.

You hadn't had much to do during the first half but, after an early goal from Georgia in the second half, Lyon had begun to put on the pressure. You knew that you had certainly lucked out with your Champions League fixtures this year, with Lyon knocking out Barcelona in their semifinal match so you didn't have to go up against Bonmati, Guijarro and Putellas (who all frankly scared you to pieces) but by no means, was this final an easy match.

Twelve minutes of extra time had been added after Pernille went down with a calf injury halfway through the current half.

Your heart pounded as you watched a quick one-two from Van De Donk to Horan, who immediately began to sprint up the wing. You readied yourself in your box as there was a quick pass to Hegerberg, who slipped between your defenders and took a shot.

You grabbed it from the air, the power from the kick almost taking the breath out of you.

"Come on!" You yelled out your joy," Come on! Try me! I dare you!"

The Munich supporters went wild at your save and you spared a look up at the big screen that showed the friends and family box. Your parents were going wild but your focus was on your girlfriend.

Alessia was jumping up and down, screaming in joy. She looked absolutely stunning in your keeper kit and you had to tear your eyes away from her to roll the ball to Magda.

Your high from the save didn't last long when, seconds before extra time ended Lyon was awarded a penalty after Tuva took down someone in the box.

Hegerberg came to take it, looking at you with eyes that promised that she wouldn't miss like last time.

Your throat bobbed for a moment before you took your position on your line.

You knew that match was over the moment the ball left her foot. You couldn't explain how or why you knew, you just did.

The ball soared towards the top left corner and you leapt for it, stretching up before your glove curled around it and came to secure it to your chest.

The stadium erupted into cheers as you celebrated, running from your goal with the ball before booting it clear across the pitch.

You felt Georgia at your back, crashing into you before getting dog-piled by everyone.

It took a while to be released but, when you did, you didn't wait around to celebrate more. You passed Georgia, who had slipped onto the bench and pressed something very familiar into your hand, and headed with a single-minded purpose to the stands.

Fans called your name but you did nothing but give them smiles and waves before you finally came to a stop in front of your favourite fan.

Alessia smiled at you, cupping your tear-stained cheeks as emotions overwhelmed your body. "Hi, baby. That was a good game."

You nodded mutely before tugging off your gloves, throwing them aimlessly into the crowd before wrapping your arms around Lessi's waist and pulling her onto the pitch.

You both fell back at the action, lying on the pitch before bursting into laughter.

The fans screamed when you kissed, remaining where you had fallen with no concern in the world.

"My baby," She said fondly as she pressed another kiss to your lips," Best keeper in the Champions League. Congrats on your clean sheet."

You laughed, riding your high of adrenaline with pride. "What can I say?" You teased," Safest hands in the league too."

"You're silly," She said when you finally rose to your feet.

Celebrations were still going on around you as the officials rushed to set up the stage for the medal ceremony but nothing could quite compare to the woman in front of you.

"I'm very silly," You agreed," But you love me for it?"

"I love you for everything you do." Alessia grinned at you.

"Then I hope you'll love me for what I'm about to do now." You dropped down onto your knee and revealed the ring box Georgia had pressed into your hand earlier. "Alessia, I may have just won the Champions League but there's only one thing I want right now. Make me be the happiest person here...Marry me?"

Alessia didn't even reply to you. She grabbed you by the front of your jersey and tugged you towards her, crashing your lips together and resting your foreheads against each other.

"Was that a yes?" You laughed even as you slowly slid the ring onto her finger.

Her hand dipped into her pocket and pulled out her own ring box. "What do you think?"

[beforeimdeceased]

IM SO HOOKED ON CRYBABY I NEED MORE OMG

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT6

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had enough at this point.

a/n: the next chapter is already in the works and guys…things get so… like there’s no going back i think this is the end point 😭

i don’t care if it hurts

masterlist.

no one can get a word in before jesse breaks up the fight. “we go on in two minutes. get it together. fucking get cleaned up.” he pulls at ellie.

you’re baffled, really. such a silly word but it’s the only one you can use. abby never really got into fights, that you’d known of. she was one of your best friends. and you never had the heart to tell her about what ellie had done, so how did she figure everything out? why are you spiraling? ellie probably said or did something to get herself punched. maybe this has nothing to do with you?

“and i’m very excited to introduce our next performers. watching them go from garages, to performing on stages, to signing record deals has been a beautiful journey. i’m happy to say i’ve been here since the beginning. now please make some noise for, seattle revival!”

you and abby are sat backstage as you dress her wounds. you wait to hear a familiar string of notes from jesse as he starts their first song, but you’re surprised by ellie’s voice on the mic.

“guys i just want to start the show off by apologizing to someone very near a dear to me. a very special person in my life who i’ve hurt—“

“we love you ellie!”

“aww i love you too. i want to say i’m sorry to her because i did some really fucked up shit in the past and i hope that she can forgive me and that we can move past it.”

the crowd cheers.

“and go back to being lovey dovey girlfriends. please forgive me babe. it’ll never happen again.”

abby’s mouth falls so far to the ground you could stick your fist in it. her face has never turned red faster. “what the fuck is she talking about? you guys were—are dating?”

you frantically shake your head. “no abby she’s lying. i don’t know what she’s gaining from it either. i think we should go now.”

“and this next song is dedicated to her—“ she points to you, an employee tugs at you to make you more visible, pulling you to the stage. a spotlight falls on you. everybody’s phone is up. everybody’s flash is on. here come the waterworks, fuck. didn’t you say you weren’t gonna cry today?

and then a familiar string of notes plays. jesse and dina catch on quickly, and your heart seeps. there was no way she was playing this song right now.

“when you were here before.”

you’re taken back to that first rehearsal. stuffed in jesse’s parents garage on a gloomy day. you were sitting on a scratched up couch, petting his cat. ellie looked over to you with a smile on her face. “you listen to a lot of music?”

you nod. “i love music. i was honestly so excited to hear you guys are starting a band. i’ll be your first groupie! handmade merch and everything.”

she laughs before whispering something to jesse and dina, then returning to the mic. “we’re gonna dedicate this one to our first groupie.”

“couldn’t look you in the eyes.”

dina and jesse slipped off after that practice and you knew they’d gone to go fuck somewhere, so you stayed with ellie. “they have no idea how to be discreet about it.” you laugh. she shrugs. “good on them, atleast i’m not alone dealing with it anymore.”

she’d convinced you to grab icecream with her. nestled in the booth of the old restaurant over an icecream sundae. soft music playing from its speakers. it was nearly empty, and it had started to rain outside.

“so how long have you known jesse and dina?” you ask, dipping a spoon in your side of the sweet treat. she grabs a cherry from the top, popping it into her mouth. “since we were kids in highschool. those are my best friends. i’m excited to be starting a band with them, and i’m glad i got to meet you.”

you blush.

you’re crying now. onstage, you’re crying. you can feel the tears slipping down your cheeks and underneath your chin. you wipe at them but they just won’t go away. she was so sweet to you a couple years ago. she was the sweetest person you’d ever met. how could you even compare the person singing to you now, and the person you’d met back then?

then you get a glimpse of her. it’s in her eyes. you’re flashing back between that memory and now. her hand in yours, running through the rain. catching the bus back to jesse’s. staying up and watching movies all night. waking up the next day to the lovebirds apologizing, while you and ellie laugh about it so hard your stomachs started to ache.

and you’re conflicted because this is the same ellie that got drunk at a party and threw up all over you. twice. then the next day said, “atleast it was better than what you’d been wearing.” jesus, she was addicting. she’d hooked you in and completely destroyed you. your self esteem. and now she was trying to play nice?

out of the corner of your eye, before you can catch it, abby is walking onstage. she takes a moment to look at you, tears streaming down your face, and decides to turn around. she walks away and it takes you a minute to follow behind. calling for her. begging her to come back.

“abby stop. where are you going?”

“no, just stop. you’re pathetic. why do you take the shit she does? don’t you have any respect for yourself?”

you’ve never heard her speaking to you this way. between your head rushing from the crying and the whiplash you’re getting from her harsh words, you feel like you’re going to pass out. “i don’t just take it abby. how do you even know about that stuff—“

“because jesse and dina told me! i’m supposed to be your best fucking friend but you can’t even communicate the simplest of things. the things i know are hurting you inside. i was gonna— never mind. fucking forget it.”

and then she walks away, disappearing into a hallway. fading away slowly like a ghost. body blurred from your tears. you feel your feet get weak first, then you drop to your knees and onto the ground. huddling within yourself. letting all your tears fall.

the “seattle revival’s last show after party” is one you refused to miss. with everything happening between abby and ellie, you were more than prepared to let it all go. to get drunk or high or whatever the fuck, and stop feeling. this very thought picked you up off that floor, and led you to the dressing rooms. you enjoyed the rest of the show from there, wiping at your face so hard you felt like it would bruise.

when the band found their way into the dressing room, dina and jesse rushed over to comfort you. “i swear i’d bash her head in if it didn’t interfere with the tour. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t be apologizing for her but it’s the only way you’ll get a real one. i’m sorry.”

you had sat with the pain for long enough. you’d cried enough. you didn’t know where abby was or why she said what she did but it was your breaking point. if you were a house, she had pulled a loose brick. making everything collapse within itself. and tumble over everyone else in its path. you felt like…ellie. the world had darkened. the small light, the tiny bits of happiness in you, had melted away. you didn’t care anymore.

you get up to face ellie, her smile fading when her eyes meet yours. everything had left them. all that purity. all that love, was gone.

“honestly i’m over it. let’s go to the after party.”

[lauraneedstochill]

Make a move

summary: you think Aemond is too arrogant to woo you, but he's got some tricks up his sleeve. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader words: ~ 6000 warnings: a bit of bickering and teasing, it gets slightly heated (Aemond has a praise kink, but I doubt anyone is surprised), mostly it's just silly fluff

author's note: this was inspired by "Crazy, stupid, love", particularly the scene where Emma kisses Ryan (one of my favorite on-screen kisses!) and everything that follows. I recently rewatched the movie and had an idea for this story. it's not smth I would usually write, but I couldn't get it out of my head (also, I may or may not have a thing for men's hands... you've been warned)

> English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes

You keep mindlessly tapping your fingers on the wooden table, your cup of wine untouched. You don't really notice the movement, too wrapped up in your thoughts, until your friend Margaret sneers.

"If you don't stop, I might bite your hand off," she says, sitting across the table.

"Then I'll use the other one," you huff but pause your fidgeting. "Better bite my head off, it will do us both more good."

"But I like your head very much," she pouts. "Is this about Thomas again?"

You groan, hiding your face in your hands and thinking back to the conversation you had earlier today with said man. Your emotions are a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as you can't stop thinking about his words.

"He said the meeting will be of great importance. What if he...? You know," you mutter, and Margaret huffs.

"I hope he won't."

"Hey, you are supposed to be my friend!" you playfully pinch her hand, and she fakes a gasp.

"I am your friend. And as your friend, I think you deserve way more than that sad excuse of a man," her face gets serious for a second, and you feel your smile waver.

"Mar, you know I don't have much of a choice," you breathe out, and your heart sinks at the thought. "He isn't that bad, really. He's always been kind to me."

"Sounds like every girl's dream," she rolls her eyes. "And you want to settle down for a kind man? Nothing else?"

"What do you think my options are? Please, enlighten me since I'm clearly missing something," you cross your arms on your chest. You know she's right and she means good, but your frustration gets the best of you.

Luckily, Margaret catches it and gives you a sympathetic smile.

"All I'm saying is that for as long as I can remember you've always dreamt of something more," she extends her hand across the table and lightly squeezes yours. "We've been friends since we were little kids, and you are the most loving person out of everyone I know. Should I remind you who taught me how to dance? Protected me against my idiot brothers?" you giggle at the memory. "You've got an adventurous spirit and a heart of gold. You deserve an epic love story," there's a hint of sadness in her voice.

For a minute you sink into your thoughts again.

"And you think Thomas is not the one?" you sigh.

"He's epically boring at best," Margaret takes a sip out of her cup. "I know he's not the one — and you do, too."

"My parents approve of him," you try to argue, but she's quick to object.

"They only care about your approval. And they mistakenly took your lack of protest for it," Margaret gives you a gloomy look.

"You are aware that I can't wait forever, right? I'm not getting any younger."

"Nor smarter," she snickers.

"Not everyone is lucky to meet the love of their life at the age of 12," you frown. Margaret and Jamie got married three years ago, but they have been betrothed for seven prior to that.

"Fair," she beams, and you can't stay irritated for long. They are still ridiculously in love with each other, and you are really happy for her. You just wish to feel that, too. You crave that indescribable feeling of longing and wanting and caring for someone else — and being loved just as much in return.

"Maybe the concept of love is overrated," you ramble. "It was easy to believe in when I was a kid but... As I'm growing older, it's getting harder to cling to hope, I guess. And I'm trying to make an effort and meet new people and... to show just enough character to not scare them away," you quote your mother. "Yet all of them just... Make me feel nothing. At all. And I...," you realize that Margaret isn't listening, her gaze is on something else behind your back. "Hey, I'm pouring out my heart of gold," you hiss, and her sight shifts to you. Before you can question her behavior, she informs:

"Someone's been keeping an eye on you."

"Margaret, I'm trying to have a serious conversation about my future," you fight the urge to turn around.

"Maybe this is your future!" she winks, and you grunt at her silliness.

"We are in a tavern out of all places! I'd rather take a kind man as my betrothed than a drunk one," you're about to scold her, but your friend's eyes go wide.

"His hair," her voice is barely above the whisper. "I can make out the strands of silver," Margaret slightly leans towards you. "You know what that means?"

"That you had too much wine? Maybe we should call it a night," you suggest, but your friend protests.

"Sit down!" she shushes. "He's coming over here," Margaret puts on a smile that looks painfully forged. The never-ending chattering of people around you makes your head hurt, and you're too tired to play along.

"Mar, it's been a long day, and the last thing I want is to waste my time entertaining some man's arrogance and...," you don't get to finish because he interrupts your train of thought. 

"What if a man entertains you?" his voice is low and cocky. You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. You don't want to make a scene in a public place so you pull yourself together, thinking that you can talk your way out of this ridiculous situation.

But when you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, your plan is suddenly forgotten.

He's taller than you, a black cloak covering most of his body and his head, so your attention is naturally drawn to his face. He wears an eyepatch, and you look over his sharp features — his prominent nose, high cheekbones that flow down to the curved contour of lips, plump and alluring. Margaret was right about the hair, but she failed to mention the color of his eye. Taking that into account, it's not hard to guess that he's a Targaryen. Which means that he definitely is arrogant.

Well, two can play that game.

You ignore his question and pointedly don't stand up in his presence:

"To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

"I believe the pleasure is all mine," he's only looking at you.

"We've just met, you should not jump to conclusions," you feel Margaret kicking your leg under the table but dismiss her warning.

"Sharp tongue," he notes.

"Will this be a problem?" you challenge him.

"On the contrary," it sounds like he's actually enjoying it.

It's tricky to read his intentions. But when his gaze is concentrated on you, it makes you feel like there's no one else in the room, and that sensation is thrilling.

"What brings you here, if I may ask?" you press, trying to ignore the unknown feeling creeping up on you.

"It's a nice tavern, wouldn't you say so? Since you are here, too." 

"No, I mean what brings you to our table. There are plenty of others you could've graced with your presence".

"Something must've caught my eye," he says, and you see a glint of a smile on his lips.

"Some thing? Well, the interior isn't very eye-catching if you ask me. But we might have to disagree on that."

"You aren't very agreeable, it seems."

"That's what servants are for, and I'm not one," you're being defiant yet it doesn't bother him.

"Please, do tell me more about yourself," he swiftly pulls up a nearby chair and sits right next to you, his eye never leaving your face.

"Should you pull another one? For your ego, since it takes quite a lot of space."

He squints at your words, and the corners of his mouth turn into a grin.

"I think we have that in common," he bites back, but there's no anger in his voice. If anything, the man looks curious, and you have to admit that you don't take offense at his wit.

"Are there any other far-reaching conclusions that you managed to come up to?" you turn your body to him, so now you two are opposite each other.

"I only got here a few minutes ago. But I am a great observer should you give me a little more time."

"Am I supposed to take your word for it? You are not as convincing as you think," you impugn, so he pauses briefly.

"You don't trust people easily, do you? How's that for an observation," his voice gets quiet, but his gaze is piercing.

"Men," you correct him. "I don't trust men."

"Any of them dared to break your trust?" he gets a little closer, and you instinctively gravitate toward him.

"That would've required them to gain my trust first," you retort.

"And what would it take for me to do so?"

"Do you expect me to make it easy? That's not very observant of you," your grin matches his own.

"Nothing good comes easy," he murmurs, and you involuntarily lay your eyes on his lips. "But I expect it to be worth it."

You feel a pull toward him, something that's hard to describe but oh so natural to give into. His confidence isn't intimidating but rather attractive, and you can't help but notice how his gaze warms up your whole body. He makes you feel wanted without even doing anything.

But then you think of Thomas. Of the upcoming meeting and your future that depends on it. And you know you can't throw it all away for some silly conversation with a self-confident stranger. No matter how enjoyable it seems to be.

You bite your lip and look away from him.

"That's enough entertainment for today," you put some distance between you two. When you give him a quick glance, you catch a shadow of disappointment on his face.

"Didn't take you for a quitter," the blond comments.

"You should manage your expectations."

"Maybe I should manage yours," he has some nerve. 

"That would be very time-consuming," you suddenly realize that he's sitting in your way, and it looks like he isn't going to move.

"Are you in a rush?"

"I am" — "She isn't," you and Margaret say at the same time. You feel your cheeks heating up as you give her a death stare.

"Has anyone told you that you look charming when you are embarrassed?" he remarks, and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Preferably with your lips. You mentally scold yourself and push that thought away.

"Does this usually work for you?" you get up, thinking of a way out.

"You tell me," he leans back on his chair with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly aware that he's blocking your exit.

"Cornering women in taverns is your way of flirting?" you think how to distract him, but nothing springs to mind. "And then what, you just drag them into your man cave?"

"They come voluntarily," it looks like your words struck a chord, but he keeps up the facade of indifference. "I happen to live nearby," he notes casually.

"We both know that's not exactly true," you scoff with a tilt of your head. You are positive that the walk to the castle will take at least thirty minutes.

"Want to bet?" he sits up straight.

"And what do I get out of this?"

He looks you up and down before answering:

"Me."

He's pushing his luck at this point.

You glance around and take note that the tavern is packed with people, and no one is paying attention to you. You also realize that Margaret already sneaked out and is standing at the door. She raises an eyebrow with a silent question, as if asking what are you going to do.

That's when you decide you can push some boundaries, too.

Your eyes are back on the man in front of you. Without giving it a second thought, you step closer to him.

"Was that supposed to make me weak in the knees?" you whisper, and his face expression melts into an amused one. Seizing the moment, you yank your dress up and throw a leg over him. He immediately looks down at the exposed skin of your thigh, his mouth is slightly agape as he's now sitting between your legs. You see him tensing up, his fingers clenching into fists as if he's fighting the urge to put his hands on you. You think that if he does, you're not going anywhere. You wouldn't want to go anywhere — the realization makes you tremble, and you know that you don't have much time.

You boldly place your hand on his shoulder, pressing him back onto the chair.

"I hate to break it to you, but you are not that impressive," you say, throwing your other leg over him and successfully moving away.

When you get to the door, the look on Margaret's face is priceless. You grab her by the arm and drag her outside in a hurry, merging into the crowd of passers-by.

"I need you to explain what the h...," she starts, but you interrupt her.

"Please, don't," you snarl. "Don't say anything, just give me five minutes."

You can't even explain to yourself what happened back there and why you did that. You think of his gaze roaming over your body, the depth of his voice and the curves of his lips. You tell yourself that you need to get him out of your head as soon as possible. You fail miserably.

One week later, you're dining with Thomas at his house, and yet your mind wanders back to the arrogant one-eyed man. Aemond, as you've learned — and it wasn't that you wanted to, but fate had other plans.

And by fate, you mean Margaret.

Once her five minutes were up, she couldn't stop talking. By the time you came home, you got his whole backstory — the second-born son of the King, has two brothers and two sisters, rides the biggest dragon in the world. Overly confident, stubborn, wears an eyepatch because he doesn't want to scare the ladies of the court. Usually doesn't talk much.

Unlike Thomas who gathered his whole family and can't stop blabbing. You struggle to participate in their conversation, giving polite smiles left and right. You don't know what to expect of the evening, and it makes you nervous. And not in a good way. All of a sudden the possibility of marrying Thomas doesn't seem to be the best.

From the corner of your eye, you catch him standing up, clearly readying himself for a speech. He has a manner of pursing his lips every time he's agitated, and it looks weird. That's also how it felt when he kissed you, which is probably the reason you haven't done much kissing after that. You wonder what it's like to kiss Aemond. Just thinking of it makes your heart rate speed up, and you nervously gulp half a cup of wine.

"I gathered all of you today to make an important announcement," he starts his pompous monologue, "that may not come as a surprise to some of you."

You cautiously look at the door.

"But, as of recently, I received inspiration to change the course of my life. And I decided to devote myself to the service of Gods".

You nearly choke on your drink. In all the years you've known Thomas, he's never been to a chapel once.

"And I wanted to grant you this privilege to be the first ones to know."

You've got to be kidding me. You wait for any other announcements — literally anything else — but Thomas goes back to chattering, also accepting pointless congratulations. It takes you ten painfully long minutes to get a chance to talk to him alone.

"May I have a word?" you inquire, and the two of you move to the far end of the room.

"It's about your speech," you clarify. "It might sound silly, but I thought that you were planning... Um," you're trying to formulate your concerns. "I was wondering, how would you describe our relationship? Or the prospect of it, I should say," you give him a tight smile.

"Oh," his face pales slightly.

Your facial expression mirrors his. "Oh"?

"I am actually glad you asked," he awkwardly takes your hands in his, and you notice how sweaty his palms are.

"You know, Y/N, you've been a great companion of mine," his voice is as weak as his smile. "And I am forever grateful for those moments that we shared as they only brought me joy," his hands feel like jelly, and you don't want to hold them. Like, ever.

"But now that I'm choosing to follow my destiny," you do your best to suppress a chuckle at his dramatic phrasing. "I decided that... I need some time to figure out how I feel. About us."

You look at him, dumbfounded, his words sinking in.

"You need... some time?" you drawl, feeling an emotion bubbling up in your chest. You are not sure what it is. "You? Need to think about us?" you repeat, and he nods, his brows furrowed at your reaction.

There's a moment of silence, and then you hear yourself laughing. You can't control it as you're overcome with emotion, your laughter only growing stronger, to the point of you tearing up a bit. The emotion is relief. There's no way you'll ever marry this man.

"I am the one who should be glad, Thomas," you shake his hand while he seems wildly perplexed, all of his guests staring at you. "Thank you for your honesty, really. I hope you will be successful in all your endeavors, marriage included."

He opens his mouth to say something, but you already turned around.

"Y/N? Where are you going?!"

You stop for a second, your thoughts rushing back to the conversation with Margaret. To that evening in the tavern.

"I have a meeting, it's of great importance," you say and quicken your pace. You reach the tavern when it's already getting dark, the weather is cloudy, and your coat is wet in the light drizzle. You walk in a daze as you're torn between being excited and anxious. There is a chance that Aemond won't be there. That he doesn't remember you. That he's with someone else. That he had a change of heart. That he...

You spot him almost immediately after you walk in.

Coincidentally or not, he's sitting at the exact same table you were at the first time you met. You stay still as his eye absentmindedly wanders around the room and then lands on you. Aemond stands up — way too quickly — and you see a well-known grin growing on his face. Your eyes dart to his lips, and the question pops up in your head again.

You feel the pull — and before you can think, your body follows it.

He keeps his gaze on you, his brows rising at the speed of your approach. You cover the distance in a heartbeat, your hands reaching his face, and he slightly flinches, probably because your fingers are cold from being outside. And then you stand on your tiptoes and crash your lips onto his without any hesitation.

He gasps, surprised and frozen for a moment. It takes just a couple of seconds for him to melt into the kiss, and his hands are instantly on your waist, pulling you closer to him. Aemond's lips are way softer than you anticipated — and it's the only thing on your mind. His mouth on yours, warm and exploring, the slow pacing of the kiss that leaves you lightheaded and yearning for more.

He presses your body into his, lifting you up with ease, and your feet leave the ground. You tug his hood further down so it covers most of your face, too, and then you slide your thumb up the sharp line of his jaw. His tongue runs over your lower lip, and you feel a wave of heat rising in your stomach.

You pull away before you can take it too far.

"You remember me?" you ask him, panting.

He hums, his eye focused on your lips.

"Still believe that nothing good comes easy?" you mimic his words, but he ignores your jesting.

"Definitely," Aemond looks you in the eyes, keeping his hands on your waist.

"Is the bet still on?"

"Yes," the corners of his mouth curl.

"Lead the way, then." By the time you reach the castle, the rain is pouring in full force, and your clothes are drenched. The two of you rush through the streets, your hands intertwined, and it feels like it only takes about ten minutes before you sneak into his chambers, both out of breath and giggling.

Only when you take a look around the unfamiliar settings, it suddenly dawns on you that you are all alone with a man you barely know, and your bravery starts fading away.

Whether Aemond notices the change in your mood or not, you can't tell, but he respectfully keeps his distance.

"You need to get out of these," he points at your coat and dress. "They're soaking wet."

"Is this your way of trying to get me naked?" you eye him suspiciously, making Aemond scoff.

"I just don't want you to catch a cold," he honestly states. "I'll fetch you a shirt of mine." Sensing your doubts, he adds: "Don't worry, it's long enough."

He brings you the shirt and politely turns away, going to the other end of the room to light the fireplace. On his way there, he removes the cloak and the jacket, his upper body only covered by the same piece of clothing he gave you. You watch him carefully, noting the movement of his back muscles as he bends down.

The sparkling glow of fire brings you back to reality, and you hastily remove your clothes, leaving the undergarments on, which are luckily dry. You put on his shirt, and it barely reaches your knees, but the material feels nice and comfortable. While Aemond is still busy with the fire, you glance over his room.

It's spacious and simply furnished, and your attention is drawn to a couple of shelves nearby. You look at the tightly packed rows of books, some of the hardcovers are worn out from old age. You catch the familiar naming and pull one of them out, gently flipping through the pages.

"You take interest in philosophy?" his voice startles you. You missed the moment he came back, and when you take your eyes off the book, you see him leaning on the nearest shelf, looking at you inquisitively.

"I do, indeed," you confess. "And I read this one so many times, my own copy pretty much fell apart."

"You can take mine," Aemond offers.

You notice that despite his cockiness, his presence is actually very calming. Everything is easy with him — striking up conversations, making jokes, flirting. Taking his hand in yours, running in the rain. Kissing.

Your heart skips a beat, and you sheepishly move on to another topic:

"Shouldn't you change as well?" you refer to his shirt, but he shakes his head:

"No need."

"Oh, was it the Targaryen's dragon blood that helped you dry up?" you tend to jest when you're nervous, and right now is no exception.

"My cloak is too thick for the water to soak through. But I like your version, too," his lips ripple into a smile.

You can help but smile back: "Thank you for the shirt."

"It looks really good on you," the words smoothly roll off his tongue and ignite the familiar burning deep in your core. He keeps his gaze on your face, your eyes locking for a moment.

You look away first, letting out a timid laugh:

"I must admit, I like this way of flirting better," you place the book back. "But you can cut it short. What's your move?"

"My... move?" Aemond gives you a quizzical look.

"Yes, your big move. Show me," you request eagerly.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he looks down, his aplomb faltering.

"What do you usually do to impress a lady?"

"I don't really need to do anything," Aemond shrugs.

"What a humble individual you are," you chuckle and give him a minute to think.

"So what is it?"

"I just told you...," it seems like he's trying to dodge the topic, which only sparks your curiosity.

"Oh, come on! You guys always have a move. Let me guess, you speak to her in High Valyrian? Men like to talk big," he snorts. "No? Win her over with your...," you gesture at his bookshelves, "...precious collection? Although it's a risky move because what if she's not into reading, that would be awkward" and then it hits you. "Wait, it's the dragon, isn't it? You show her your dragon? Got to make sure it's well-fed, though, otherwise you'll have a date with a roasted —"

"It's my sword," he cuts you off, and you swear you can see him blushing at the confession.

"Um, your sword? Is this a metaphor for someth…"

"Gods, no. I mean the actual sword. The one you grip with your hand and poke people with."

"That description didn't help," you tease, and he groans.

"You know what I mean," Aemond gives you a pointed look, but his face flushed pink, and you can't take him seriously.

"I do, you just look really cute when you are embarrassed," you say cheekily, which makes him huff.

"My apologies. Please elaborate on the sword. How does it work?"

Aemond hesitates but then realizes that you will never let it go, so he gives in:

"I bring my training into the conversation. And then I... show them," he talks with his hands when he's uncomfortable, and you find it endearing.

"And that's it?"

"Pretty much," Aemond nods.

"They watch you train, and that's what does it for the ladies?"

"I don't know why, I never gave it much thought."

"Well, someone should. Can't imagine it ever working on me."

You feel a sudden shift in the air as Aemond slowly looks up at you. You're standing a couple of meters apart, and he's yet to initiate anything, but once again, it only takes a look from him for you to feel a familiar flare-up of the tantalizing desire.

"I'm not going to take you to the training yard in the pouring rain," he concludes.

"But it's not about the place, is it? Must be something about you," now you're the one champing at the bit to see what the fuss is all about.

"I don't have a sword on me."

"Opt for something smaller, I'm sure it will do," you hint at the dagger that you've seen him carry, and wait expectantly for him to agree.

Aemond reluctantly contemplates your suggestion, then sighs and goes to get his dagger which he left next to the cloak.

You wonder if the ladies are attracted to his competitive spirit. If they enjoy the feeling of danger they get at the sight of steel, the cold shine of it, the clang of swords. Or maybe it's the urge to take sides and root for the winner?

And then you see Aemond rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, — and your breath suddenly hitches.

The room is lit by fire, the warmth of it illuminating his skin, casting shadows that frame every muscle of his arms. He takes the dagger in one hand, the movement fast and honed, and your eyes follow it. You notice the scattering of his veins that go down his wrist and into his palm, the blue lines tightening with every swirl. The silver blade catches and reflects the light, but you're focused solely on his flexing muscles.

He's maneuvering the dagger with ease, almost carelessly, yet you know that every motion is well-practiced through years of training. His long fingers grip the hilt, revealing the sharp outline of his knuckles. The steel silently cuts through the air, again and again, but your eyes are glued to his hands. The way they move, the power that he holds in them. The things he can do with them, with his fingers. The way they will feel on your bare skin and in your... You swallow, letting out a shuddered breath.

"Are you weak in the knees yet?" his words bring you out of your trance, and you blink a couple of times, trying to shake the feeling off. Your body is so heated, you're surprised you're not sweating yet.

"Is this the point when the ladies throw themselves at you?" your voice is hoarse, and you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

Aemond stops his movements. You feel your skin tingling with anticipation, waiting for him to finish what he started, but he doesn't budge. For a short while, you're taken aback by the change in his demeanor — and the realization strikes you:

"Wait, how many ladies were here before me?"

"I never said I take them here," he puts the dagger back in its sheath, averting his gaze.

"But you told me that you do your... thing with the sword for them."

"In the training yard, with other people around us, yes."

"So then you just leave them all hot and bothered? Aemond, that is cruel," his actions confuse you, but while you're looking for an explanation, he turns back to you and finally meets your gaze.

"It would've been cruel to lead them on when I feel nothing for them," he reveals, and you discern the raw honesty in his words. And you know exactly what he means. It's the tiresome attempts to find someone who will spark your interest, to spot a connection, all of those efforts leading nowhere and making you feel like you're the one at fault. But you aren't — and he isn't, either.

Aemond looks almost ashamed of letting out something so personal, but you welcome the intimacy of this moment.

"I shall consider myself lucky, then," you say softly.

He gives you that same look that makes you feel like the world around you disappears.

"You are... something else," Aemond mumbles.

You guess that he isn't used to being straightforward about his feelings, nor does he know how to express his affection with words. You really, really want to kiss him again.

The boyish grin reappears on his face:

"Did you mean I left you all hot and bothered?" Aemond narrows his eye.

"I never said that," you smile coyly. "Maybe you should've tried a little harder."

"I happen to have some tricks up my sleeve," he takes a step towards you and, before you can ask for details, you feel his fingers on your ribs as he starts tickling you, and you immediately burst into laughter.

His touches are light, fingers grazing against your clothed skin as he subtly moves you further into the room until your legs bump into his bed. Losing your balance, you fall on it, your back met with the fluffiness of thick blankets. Aemond hovers over you, and you can't stop giggling, trying to wiggle away from his tickles.

Wrapped up in the moment, you make a careless move, your hand brushing up his cheek — and you suddenly see a bright gleam of blue on the right side of his face.

Aemond freezes at the spot, halting his actions, and momentarily flinches away. You are gawking at the sapphire, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He makes a move to fix his eyepatch, but you stop him.

"Don't," you catch his hand mid-air, your grip delicate but firm, and he doesn't fight it. You would've been surprised by your own quick reaction if only your mind wasn't completely occupied with the sight in front of you.

It looks like the gem absorbs all the light in the room, shimmering with various shades of blue. It's cut in a way to imitate a surface of an eye, the sides of the sapphire polished and blending into each other. There's a depth to it, bright sparkles drowning in a color that's close to black, and the spillovers are mesmerizing.

You bring your hand closer to his face, to the area that's been left covered and unloved, and touch the skin with the tip of your finger. He lets you.

"Wow," you breathe out, gently tracing his scar. "This is the most badass thing I've ever seen."

Aemond looks at you in disbelief, his eye fixed on your face, and his lips parted.

"...What?" he manages to ask.

"You look like a pirate. A really badass... sky pirate?" you suggest, and he lets out a light chuckle, still not entirely sure he believes you.

So you shamelessly continue:

"A pirate with his own dragon. The largest one in the Seven Kingdoms as I've heard," you can almost feel him swelling with pride. "He charms the ladies with his fighting skills — and has a gem for an eye? Incredibly irresistible," your index finger circles the area around his sapphire.

He listens attentively, holding his breath.

"A prince who is as good with his sword as he is with his wit, fond of reading and isn't averse to mischief. Any lady of the court would've been fortunate to get a hold of such treasure," you remove the eyepatch and tenderly cradle his face. "Yet I am the one who's been honored to see all of him," you glance from the bright gemstone to his eye and back. "Honestly, it's kind of hard to pick which one I like more...," you're barely able to notice him sharply lower his head, and your words die down.

Without a warning, Aemond covers your lips with his, the intensity of the kiss pulling the air out of your lungs right away. He's been holding back the first time, but he isn't now, and the passion sets you ablaze. His tongue slips into your mouth, easily tangling with yours, and you moan at the contact. Aemond skilfully unbuttons your shirt, and the second his fingers touch your skin, you shiver, the quivering sensation washing over you. His hands slowly slide down your ribcage, tracing the curves of your body, making your back arch, your chest flush against his, your heart pounding. He contours the bend of your hips, then presses his palms there, his touches rough, claiming, burning. You move your fingers up the base of his neck and run them through his hair, and he releases a shaky sigh. Aemond relishes in the feeling of your compliance, the fervor of it, your body being so needy and welcoming, until you are both gasping for air.

"Was that impressive enough?" he rasps, and you look up at him through your lashes, spellbound and breathless. His pupil is dilated, gaze clouded with lust, your noses adjoin.

"Yeah-yes. Yes, very," you utter, at a loss for words.

"Good. Because I'm about to outdo myself," he tightens his grip on your thighs, picking you up and moving into the middle of the bed. Your head barely touches the pillow when his lips are on yours again.

🔥 my masterlist

[tetragonia]

A Wave of Feelings

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

Blurb: Rafe and (Y/N) got into an argument for God knows how many times, about literally anything when they breath the same air, ranging from a small accident to a heated one about their cultural beliefs. But something in the air was different this time. Or was it only in the air? Not something in their heart and mind when the two of you finally realize something big that could change your lives?

Note: I have always wanted to write an angst especially for this character and it has occurred to me one day that arguing/miscommunication plot is kind of my fave trope so here we are lol.

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, argument, bad writing lol English isn't my first language. also, soft!Rafe in the end!

Words: 1490

The sun hung low over the Outer Banks as Rafe Cameron and you found yourself embroiled in yet another heated argument. This was clearly not the first time you both got into an argument. Some of them were heavy like that one time when your best friend asked you to go to the party just to talk to Rafe (which she did) but then he dumped her after the party and she cried for weeks on your shoulder, or some Kook-owned properties that limited your access, or some insulting banter between Rafe and your friends (that got you realized how much he hated JJ).

But most of the time it was just about silly things: when he knocked up your beer accidentally, when you sailed in front of him and accidentally splashed some water (it didn't even make his already oily hair wet), or when you were napping in a near beach and he claimed that it was his territory (he was in the Cut area, for God's sake!). You two always found a way to argue.

This time, your voices clashed like crashing waves, echoing off the walls of the old shipwreck where you had sought refuge.

"You're impossible, Rafe! Always acting like you own this place, roaming around thinking that you're so much better than us Pogues," you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration. Pogues always owned this place, not some rich snobby kids like him, you thought.

Rafe's jaw clenched, his temper flaring and pride wounded. He hissed, "Maybe if you Pogues have some ambitions, you wouldn't be stuck in the same place your whole life!"

Oh, this was definitely one of those heavy arguments.

Your fists clenched at your sides as took a step forward. Your voice trembling with emotion. "You have no idea what it's like to struggle, Rafe. You've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

For a moment, you needed to convince yourself that you saw Rafe's gaze softened. You wanted to believe that a flicker of remorse crossed his features before he quickly masked it with a defiant glare. "At least I don't have to scrape by just to survive. Maybe if you Pogues worked harder, you'd actually amount to something."

His words struck deep, a painful reminder of the challenges you and your community faced every day. You recoiled as if struck by a lightning, your eyes stinging with unshed tears and your face was red, "You don't know anything about me, Rafe. You don't know what I've been through."

Your argument drew the attention of Sarah who was nearby with John. She was one of your best friends and you felt nothing but pity every time you realized that she shared the same blood with Rafe. With a furrowed brow, she stepped between you two, her hands raised in a gesture of peace trying to calm you down.

"Hey, what's going on here? Can't you two go five minutes without arguing?" Sarah pleaded, her voice filled with concern and annoyance. She must be tired with all these arguments, you thought. But those were all about Rafe's incapability to control his temper! And that might or might not be your issue as well...

Rafe shot you a scorching glare before turning his attention to Sarah. "Stay out of this, Sarah. This doesn't concern you."

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you stepped forward beside Sarah. "You're the one who concerns everyone with your existence!"

"What did you say to her, Rafe?!" Sarah looked at you with a concern. You were one of her strongest friends and she rarely saw you tremble like this. "Come on, talk it out like an adult, will ya!"

Rafe's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration boiling over. "Talk? What's there to talk about? I said, stay out of this, Sarah."

His gaze turned to you, "You think you know everything, (Y/N). Being the weaker one of the community, blaming us for having some money. If you said that I don't know anything about you, then you also don't know anything about me!"

His words cut like a blade across your pain. Your expression softened, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes and you were not sure whether Rafe realize that or not. "Let's just cut it out. You would never understand what I've been through. What we have been through. Let's go, Sarah. Let's get out of here."

Sarah watched the exchange with growing concern, her heart aching for her brother and her best friend. She knew there was something deeper at play here, something that neither of them wanted to admit.

"Come on, you two. Let's take a step back and calm down, especially you, Rafe," Sarah suggested, her voice gentle yet firm. She glared at his brother. His face was as red as you, his forehead frowned deep.

You and Rafe exchanged a wary glance before reluctantly exhaled a deep breath. As much as you hate him, as much as you didn't want to admit, you really want him to apologize. The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a palpable sense of unease.

Sarah sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to find the right words. "Look, I know things have been tense lately, but I really can't bear another sight of you guys bicker over things. If you still want to do that, please not where I can see you. I need you two to be in your best behavior when I'm around. Especially with you, Rafe. I have enough of you already."

Rafe's gaze softened as he looked at his sister, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. "You're right, Sarah. I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

Sarah still held her concern, but she relieved to see them finally finding common ground. "It's okay. Now I'll leave it up to you. I can't mom you around like this, geez."

She walked away from you both. She lived long enough with both you and Rafe and there was no way she did not realized that beneath the surface, there was a different kind of tension simmered—a tension born from unspoken feelings and unacknowledged desires.

You stood still, refused to meet his gaze. The wind blew your hair as the sun began to set. You started to feel the chill and instinctively hug your own body, fixing your shirt together. You accidently drew a sharp breath when a cold wind sent chills down your spine. You sniffed and looked over the horizon. Refusing to take even the tiniest glance at him, you kept looking at the sea while stroking your upper arm.

Despite the heat of your argument, Rafe couldn't ignore the way the cold seemed to seep into your bones, making you appeared small and vulnerable against the vast expanse of the beach. His heart ached at this view.

You didn't see that he wanted to reach out, to wrap his arms around you and shield her from the biting wind; his hesitation to offer you warmth and comfort in the midst of your argument.

But his pride held him back, a barrier he had built long ago to protect himself from vulnerability and pain. Yet now, standing on the windswept beach with you before him, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe took a step forward, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. "(Y/N), I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I was out of line."

Your eyes widened in surprise at Rafe's apology, your anger momentarily forgotten as she regarded him with cautious curiosity. You had expected him to be stubborn, to be the usual Rafe: to dig in his heels and refuse to back down. But instead, here he was, standing before you with such humility you'd never seen before.

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the only sound the crashing of the waves against the shore. And then, slowly, hesitantly, you took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Rafe," you said softly, your voice barely audible above the wind. "Thank you."

And with that, Rafe's resolve crumbled completely. Ignoring the voice of doubt in his mind, he opened his arms and pulled you into a tight embrace, provided you with the warmth of his body against yours. He could feel the softness of your hair against his cheek and he kissed your head softly it almost gave you a heart attack.

So you were not hallucinating all this time. The glances, the gestures, the underlying concern for her.... He felt the same way, too.

In that moment, with the cold wind whipping around them, you knew that he had finally acknowledged his feelings for you. And as you stood together on the windswept beach, you both vowed to never let your pride stand in the way of your connection again.

[thatfreshi]

can i request the reader has an emotionally abusive parent and astarion finds out and protects and comforts her?

TW - Emotional abuse, gaslighting, domestic violence

Recommended Song: The Archer - Adam Melchor

After settling down in Baldur's Gate again, you and Astarion have been slowly trying to fit back into the city. It's hard though, after such a long adventure, after trauma and perilous feats, to just be a person. You've reached out to a couple of old friends, trying your best to explain everything without revealing too much, especially without Astarion jokingly baring his fangs and saying "Be warned, I bite." The dumbass seems to think reverse psychology works on everyone.

So word slowly gets out that you're back in town. People that you knew forever ago suddenly stop by the house, and each time Astarion has to double-check that you know them, paranoid about people coming into the home you've built for the two of you. You don't blame him one bit.

It's a Summer afternoon, and you've just come in from tending your little backyard garden. Astarion calls out to you as you come in the back door.

"Darling, there's yet another person here to see you."

He gets a little overwhelmed by all these people wanting to come see you, but he tries his best to be supportive.

"Alright, coming."

You take off your gloves and hang them up by the door, making your way to the front of the house.

"Who is it?"

"Not sure, she wouldn't say."

He opens the door, and a shiver runs down your spine. Your mother.

"Oh, it's so good to see you Tav."

She lunges for an embrace before you can step away, your body is in shock. 'Why is she here?' 'How did she find out?' 'Who could've possibly told her you were back in town?'

"And who is this handsome man?"

Astarion realizes you're a little stunned, and he takes over the conversation for you.

"Astarion, and who might you be?"

"Well I'm Tav's mother of course! I'm sure she's told you all about me." He words are lined with spite, poison dripping out of her mouth. Your vampiric lover senses the tension, and yet you quickly switch tones.

"Come on in mother, we can show you around."

A fake smile, a facade. He's taught you well how to hide your intent, especially in peril.

"Yes, of course."

His voice trails off, wondering what you're up to. You simply start a tour of the house, acting like you would with any old friend.

"So obviously here's the little living space. I'd like to have some more plants in here, but somebody has to have a place to store all his books."

You try to shoot him a playful look, but when you meet eyes both of you know it's wrong. You chuckle a little too late, almost robotically.

"Ah yes, Tav here used to read all the time as a little one. Read all those silly little adventure books, even wanted to go on one."

"Yes, but-"

"BUT, instead we kept our lovely little offspring around to help with the business for a while, convinced Tav it was best to help the family."

Something triggered in Astarion's brain, the way she said family.

"Yes, of course mother. It was the right thing to do after all."

He realizes you never spoke about your parents, or about any of your family members for that matter. You've always spoken so freely, without a care in the world. Suddenly you were stiff, conforming to a conversation that you had no control over.

"Well, everyone must leave the nest eventually."

He smiles, trying to relieve the tension, still analyzing your movements.

"Well, my child here just up and disappeared a couple years back, left me and my husband in shambles."

Clearly she didn't know about the nautiloid, or about any of your adventures.

"And yet suddenly here you are, a house, a lovely man, and you feel no need to tell your parents you're home? After all, we could always use the help."

"Well, Astarion and I have been very busy mother, finishing up the house, settling in."

"You know I could've helped with all that."

"We've been managing fine."

The conversation starts to get aggressive. Astarion goes into that protective stance of his, standing tall next to you and wrapping his arm around you.

"Yes, if we ever need help we'll certainly reach out."

There's a slight hiss at the end of his sentence, and you nudge him in the side, trying to get him to keep his composure.

"No need to get all defensive. Tav and I, we understand each other. I just worry, my child being out in the wild, adventuring through forests with all those miserable monsters."

"Would've been better being away from the worst of them."

You mutter under your breath. It's frustrating, this woman coming back into your life, trying to convince you to come back and 'help' her out with the business. You did almost all the work, under her hand. And when you said you wanted to leave and go out on a grand quest...

"You know what, you need to leave."

You finally speak up.

"Excuse me?"

She's shocked.

"Yeah, before there's another accident. Would hate if I broke my leg again."

Astarion's grip tenses.

"That was a sad coincidence and you know it Tav."

"No, you pulled the ladder out from under me while I was climbing to fix something on the roof, and I fell and shattered my leg, and this just so happened to be the day after I told you I was going to leave the city."

"I was trying to stabilize it after I saw it was falling. Don't blame your poor mother."

"And what about when you refused to have a cleric come see me, and I was on bed rest for months on end, while you did nothing."

Your mother goes to speak again, but Astarion cuts her off.

"As my lovely partner here has already said, I think you need to leave, now."

He unwraps himself from you, stepping towards the defensive woman.

"There's no way you believe Tav's idiotic lies. Don't be a fool."

"You're the fool, a fool who's about to lose their head if you don't turn around and leave this house."

She goes to say something else, watching as he goes to grab his trusty dagger. Instead she simply huffs, and storms out the door. Astarion slams it behind her.

"You'll come back Tav, you'll see reason!"

He quickly deadbolts the door and comes back over to you, and you finally break down. That woman, she terrorized you your entire childhood, and some mind flayer ship took you away from her, thankfully.

"You... you never told me about your mother."

"Yeah, I didn't think it really compared to all of your shit."

You wipe at your eyes.

"Now, we don't need to compare apples and oranges my love. It's abuse, all the same, all evil."

He holds you for a while. You're still nervous you'll hear banging on the door, but hopefully Astarion scared her off well enough.

"She'll never be back here, not if I have something to say about it. Here, come sit."

You make your way to the sofa, and he just holds you for a while. It's silent, except for his breathing and a few soft sobs from your sorrows.

"You know, I don't mean to pry, and you don't have to answer if you don't wish to... but did she really let you suffer like that? With your leg just, shattered?"

"Mhm. I couldn't walk for months. I still don't think it ever healed properly. I begged for her to get someone to come look at it, and she just kept saying 'no Tav, they'll just charge us for some bogus potions' and that was that."

He wraps his arms around you tighter than ever. He's lost in thought, going between thoughts of your pains and his own.

"We're so lucky."

You're a little surprised. It's not often he's such an optimist, especially at times like this.

"What do you mean?"

"I think we understand each other better than anyone. Your griefs echo mine, it just makes sense. Not to say I'm happy you went through that... but we're just lucky, lucky to have each other."

You plant a gentle kiss on his hand.

"I agree darling. Thank you, for always being here for me."

"Only because I know you'd do the same for me, my love."

The two of you stay cuddled there for a long time, not really saying or thinking anything. Just two people, sitting in the air of each other's freedom. Just two lovers who were the first to be loved by one another.

[ikigaisvt]

Everything Everywhere All at Once

You have always loved Vernon and that much he knows. What he doesn't know is that you love him more than a best friend probably should. He also doesn't know you're virgin; but that has no correlation, right? Or does it?

What you don't know about him? Well, he's in love with you too. And surprise, surprise, he's a virgin too.

pairing: reader x vernon, she/her!reader x vernon, virgin!reader x virgin!vernon, inexperienced!reader x somewhat experienced!vernon, bottom!reader x top!vernon (but no real power dynamics) words: 3.9k content: smut, fluff, slight angst warnings: dirty talk (subtle), begging, praising, fingering, first time for mcs, protected sex, kinda love making, very sappy tbh, vernon is vry horny, they're desperate for each other, petnames (for reader: babe, baby, sweetheart, my girl, girlfriend / for vernon: babe, baby, boyfriend), vernon is called pretty, slight angst ig?, reader wears lingerie note: MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI. i first thought of this idea after playing a silly kpop dating game with my bff and i got vernon as my best friend and first time,,, i thought it fit him all too well so i decided to write it! you absolutely don't have to know the movie EEAAO to read this, it's absolutely not related to its story. the last paragraph of the fic is inspired by a quote from EEAAO which i'll put here "of all the places i could be, i just want to be here with you." (same quote as on the banner). also, once again, shout out to @homerunhansol for hyping me up while i was in the process of writing this and for being so excited! this one is for you, my fav dolly 🫶

You love Vernon. You really do. You don't think you could have lived your life without him and thanks god you didn't had to. You often talk about being soulmates with each other; how the feeling of being together transcends anything else. Any love you have ever felt feels so little compared to what he makes you feel.

And people must be thinking how lucky you are to have such a wonderful partner.

But here's the problem: Vernon is your best friend and you have been in love with him for as long as you can remember.

As Vernon looks at his best friend sat next to him, on his couch, in his dorm, he wonders how a situation can feel so blessed and yet so cursed. He truly thinks being your best friend is the greatest gift in his life; you are an amazing friend, you never fail to support him and let him know how precious he is to this world. You understand every single one of his obsessions, from movies to cats to tacos. Despite all of this, you will forever – at least he thinks so – a source of hurt for him. Vernon has been in love with you for as long as he can remember and that's a lot of time. You have always been part of his life, just like his love for you has always been here, rooted deep in his heart, never swaying or moving aside for anyone else.

He knows it's all because of this love that he's still a virgin. He also knows that he probably should have gotten over it by now and lose his virginity with the numerous girls who have tried to get with him. He truly knows all this and yet he cannot get over this deep-rooted emotion he feels when you look at him, just as you are doing right now.

"Vernon? Earth to Vernon?" you say, waving your hand in front of his eyes, "Are you even listening to me?" you ask him, chuckling.

"Sorry, was up in my head for a sec." he answers, turning to give you his full attention.

"Let me guess, were you thinking about Everything Everywhere All at Once, again?" you tease him in a smile.

"No, I wasn't," he says, frowning a little, "It wasn't anything important." It was important.

"Okay, if you say so!" you tell him cheerfully, "Anyway, as I was saying, I was on a date with this boy and you know what was one of his first question?" you ask him, waiting for his answer which comes in a shake of his head, "If I was a virgin!" you say, dropping your hand in a dramatic way, "When I told him I was still one, he bolted out of that café-"

"Wait, you're still a virgin?" Vernon asks, completely surprised at the news. If there was someone who could pulled anyone, it'd be you.

"Oh, you missed that part too?" you tell him, still annoyed at the memory of said boy, Vernon nodding again, too shocked to let any words out, "yeah I confessed to- no I mean, I broke the news like 5 minutes ago. What you were thinking about must have been really important. Anyway, now I’m thinking I really need to get rid of my virginity card because it's blocking every relationship for me."

"But how can you get rid of it? It's not like you're going to jump on the first boy who's slightly interested in you?" he says, in disbelief at your words, "Right?"

"No! Of course not," you say trying to calm down your nerves at what you're about to say, "That's why I was thinking about this- What if you become my first time?" you finally throw as Vernon takes a sip of his coke, making him choke on it.

"What?" he answers in a strangled voice.

"Listen to me before you say no, please!" you beg, your hands joined in front of you, "I just- I trust you and I love you and you are definitely experienced," I am definitely not, Vernon thinks to himself, his cock already straining in his pants at the thought of even touching you, "And I can't think of anyone else better than you for this." you conclude, looking desperately in his eyes for any sign that you did not scared him away.

"This is a crazy idea, Y/N." his voice still hoarse from the coke incident.

"It really isn't," you fight back, "We don't have to talk about it to anyone. It will just be between me and you."

"Do you really trust me with this?" he asks you, pondering about the idea. if I say yes, when I say yes, it will be for me only, Vernon says to himself. So selfish. "If we do this, I have one request." Vernon tells you, already knowing his answer.

"Anything you want." you tell him, already eager to please. Cute.

"You have to watch Everything Everywhere All at Once with me." he asks, making this easier on purpose – if he’s true to himself he’s doing it mostly for him rather than you.

It's a few days later, when you scrubbed every inch of your skin that you and Vernon meet up – in your apartment (as it is roommate free) so you can, quite literally, fuck around. If someone told you months ago, you'd be doing this with your best friend, you wouldn’t believe them.

When Vernon walks in your apartment, you can see the anxiety on his face and in the way he holds himself. You’re starting to think you have broken your best friend with your proposition.

"You good?" you ask him, getting a hold of his hand, making him jump out.

"Y-Yeah! I'm fine," he tells you, his cock hardening already hardening against his pants for you.

"Come on," you say as you give him your hand, leading him to the bedroom.

When you both go into your room, Vernon notices how it is cleaner than any other day, no clothes lying on the floor (even though that will not last) while your bed is done nicely. You sit down at the foot of the bed, Vernon still standing in front of you.

"How- How do we process?" Vernon asks you, his knees shaking slightly.

"We don't have to do this, you know?" you say softly, "Maybe it was a bad idea after all." you mumble.

"No, no, no," he tells you hastily, falling on his knees to get to eyes level with you, "It's fine. I want to do this." he says, holding your hands tightly. "Do you?"

"Yeah, I want to do this too." you say, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"That's good to know," he chuckles slightly, stroking your hand with his thumb, "Can I kiss you?"

"Hm, you can." The nerves starting to get to you too, before easing up when Vernon gets a hold of your hand.

He leans in slowly at first, so you can back out at any moment but when he feels your hand squeeze his in a you can kiss me, he slams his lips to yours. He feels your hands move to his shirt, grabbing it tightly. After a few seconds of a sweet kiss, you part, feeling the emotion of finally sharing a kiss settle down in the pit of your stomach. You hide your face in his neck, whining softly.

"What is it?" he whispers, rubbing your back over your shirt.

"Nothing, 'm fine." you mumble, raising your head slightly, kissing at his jaw, making him shudder. You make your way back to his mouth, leaving a trail of wet kisses along the way. Vernon hisses at each one, feeling sensitive already, his cock getting harder every time your lips touch his skin.

"Can I kiss you again?" you whisper against his lips.

"Of course," he says as he gets up, "Come on, lay down for me."

"Y-Yeah, okay."

"Good." he says as he gets onto the bed, holding himself up above you.

"Come here," you mumble softly, raising your arms to touch him, "please."

Vernon lowers himself, your nose touching, as you close the space between your lips, opening your mouth slightly. You moan quietly when he starts to kiss you harder as if he wanted to do this his whole life. If only you knew.

As the kiss gets even more heated, you start to play with the hem of his shirt, wanting him to get it off so you can feel him completely.

"Want me to get this off?" he asks you, trying to keep it together for your sake. After all, you think he has experience.

"Yeah," you breath out, "I can take mine off too." you whisper softly.

"it's okay, you don't have to," he utters, sitting up on his heels, "Anything you're comfortable with."

"I want to." you tell him, looking up with shiny eyes.

"Alright, baby." he answers before pulling up his shirt, revealing his toned torso, blushed a light pink.

"You look so pretty-" you sigh out, laying your hand on his stomach, feeling his happy trail under your palm.

"T-Thank you." he mumbles, reaching out for your shirt in a sign that he wants to see you too. Your shirt gets pulled off in a few seconds, revealing a pretty baby pink bra, made mostly of lace.

"Fuck- You look so good," he moans out, his pants getting tighter at every passing second, “Is this for me?" he asks in a low voice, reaching out for your chest, almost hissing – as you moan – at the sensation of the lace under his fingers, as if it burns him.

"Hm, yeah," you admit in a small voice, "Wanted to be pretty for you- It's a matching set, too." you moan out at the way he plays with your covered tits. He must have done this to so many girls, you think to yourself, and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes but you push it down. If you can have him at least once, you will take it. No matter how much it hurts.

"You're going to kill me," he whines, the desperation making the fire in the pit of his stomach grow bigger and bigger, "Can I see?"

"Yeah." you nod, feeling the shyness gather up in a blush all the way down your neck. As soon as the words are out of your mouth, he works at the buttons on your pants, chuckling slightly at the way his hands are shaking from nervousness. Once your pants slide down, Vernon gasps at the way your baby pink panties hug your pussy so well.

"It looks gorgeous- No, I mean- You look gorgeous." he sighs out, the stress making him mumble rapidly.

"Thank you," you exhale, clutching onto his hand tightly, "Why are you so nervous? You already did this. I’m sure you know what to do."

"Well- I know what I’m doing b-but only up until this point." he mumbles under his breath, finally confessing to being a virgin too.

"What do you mean?" you ask, not quite understanding the situation.

"I mean- I already did all this and some more. I already used my fingers on someone but-" he chokes out, the words not quite wanting to form in his throat, "I’m a virgin too."

"Oh." you say softly, shocked that your best friend – whom you are deeply in love with and who's extremely hot, is a virgin too. He softly lets go of his hold on your hand, understanding that you might want to back out of your arrangement. After all, this is not what you were expecting.

"I’d understand if you don't want to keep going." he utters.

"Hey," you interject gently, holding his hand once again, "Can I know why?"

He sighs out; "Maybe one day I will tell you." In a very very very long time.

"Okay, that's fine," you smile, "It doesn't matter anyway."

"No? It doesn't?" he asks, surprised.

"No, it doesn’t. I want you," you reply, looking up at him, a pleading look across your face, "And I’m so wet. You can't just leave me like this."

"Fuck- Okay," he murmurs, knowing you want him and not his experience making this whole situation way different, "What can I do? I don't want to do something you don't want."

"Will you touch me? Please?" you ask, your hands softly touching his back, goosebumps appearing on his skin.

"Can you open your legs for me, baby?" he asks, his hands pushing your legs open gently. You fall open at his might, Vernon seeing your pretty panty with a wet patch already showing.

"Shit baby- You're so fucking wet for me already."

"i told you so," you whine as your hips buck at him, "Will you touch me n-" you choke out, not even being able to finish your phrase that his fingers meet over your panties, rubbing your clit in a circle motion. Your moans fill the room pretty soon and its only music to Vernon’s ears.

"You sound so good for me- you're driving me crazy." he tells you, his cock pressing against the harshness of his pants' seam making him groan out. He knows he already ruined his briefs from how much pre-cum is oozing from his cock.

"Shit- Vernon," you say, choking out on your moans, "Just get rid of my panties, please."

"Y-Yeah, of course, sure," he mumbles, panicking at the thought of seeing your pussy in full light. He tugs at your panties, your hips raising to help him get it off, "You look so pretty," he says, the second it's off, already teasing your hole with one finger, "Everywhere. You look so pretty, everywhere." he rectifies, blushing deeply. "I’ll start slow, okay? Tell me if it hurts or you want me to stop."

"Don't worry," you say as you grasp at his other hand, intertwining your fingers together, "I will." you whisper, bringing your intertwined hands to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

He slowly thrust his index, feeling your warmth hugging him tight, making him wonder how the fuck are you even gonna take his cock.

“You good, babe?” he tells you, breathless, brushing your hair out of your face messily.

“Yeah- feels so good.” you say, in a high pitch, already choking on pleasure. “You can move. I- can take it.” you assure him, closing your eyes, letting your body fall into the slow rhythm he settled for.

Vernon works you open slowly, your hips bucking up slightly at the sensation after he adds a second finger.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart,” he says, your walls clamping around his fingers, “How are you even going to take me?” he mumbles under his breath as he never stops his movements, bringing you so close to the edge.

“I’m so close, please-” You beg, wanting to fall off the edge already. Your hand grips his even harder, wanting to feel him all at once.

“You can come whenever, okay? Just let me know,” he replies, adding pressure to your clit with his thumb, “I might need to prepare my heart to see my pretty girl cum.”

“Stop being so silly,” you say, short of breath, “you might kill the mood.”

“I’m not silly,” he says out loud but as you fall of the edge he adds, “I’m just in love with you.” quietly, thinking you will not hear it with the fog shortening all of your sensations but your sense of touch. You feel Vernon everywhere; in the depth of your brain, thoughts of him dazing everything for you and also in the beating of your heart, how it slows down when his breath gets caught in his throat and how it speeds up when he utters a word, especially when he confesses of being in love with you. Your pleasure keeps going up and up, thinking of how he’s in love with you as much as you’re in love with him, until it starts to goes down and you realize he doesn’t know you heard him and that you love him too.

“Me too.” you whisper, once you catch your breath, as if loving him is still a shameful secret that should never be brought into daylight.

“This is not the kind of things people say after their first orgasm.” he utters as he rubs at your hips, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m in love with you too.” you clarify, bringing your hand up to the hair falling into his eyes as shock can be read on his face.

“Y-you heard me?” he answers quietly, his world slightly crumbling around him as his brain didn’t register your words just yet.

“Yeah, I did.” you chuckle slightly as your rub at his hand, waiting for realization to hit him. Realization that you love him too.

“Shit- this is so ba-” he starts, before cutting himself off, “did you just say you’re in love with me too?”

“Yeah, I did.” You repeat, amusement showing on your face.

“Oh. Oh.” He utters, happiness making its way on his face as quickly as pink tint his cheeks, “Do you, really? You’re not just saying this, right? It’s not an in-the-moment thing? You really do, right?” he babbles fast, nervousness still present within his heart – and in his voice.

“Vernon, baby,” you say, grabbing his face in your two hands, stroking his cheeks, “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I got to learn about love. This is the cheesiest thing I can probably say but it’s the truth. You’re who taught me love, who made me realize I’d never settle for someone who loves me less than you do. Trust me when I say I love you; I do, in every way. As a best friend and as a girl who thought she was in an unrequited love all of her life.” you confess, hoping it can ease his nerves – mostly so he can fuck you. You want him even more, now.

“Do you know you just made this whole thing way hotter, now?” He mumbles, redness still covering his cheeks – and even his torso.

“By confessing my undying love for you?” you giggle, your hands resting on his shoulders, playing with his hair at back of his neck, “I’m glad then, baby.”

“Do you want to keep doing this?” he asks, leaning down to kiss at your neck, leaving a trail of kisses from one side to the other as your hands wrap around his shoulder, whining at the way he’s so eager to please you.

“Baby- yeah, please,” you plead, “I want you.”

Vernon groans slightly at your desperation, thinking that maybe all along you wanted to have him and not just to have someone take your virgin card. Vernon keeps leaving kisses along your neckline, your collarbones, your jaw, slowly working you two up again; you, pleased by the sensation of his warm mouth marking your body forever and him, thrilled to please you as he hears your sweet whimpers begging him to fuck you. He detaches himself from you, despite your whines making him want to grab you in his arms and never let you go, to take a condom from his jean’s back pocket. He climbs on the bed again, sitting on his heels as he puts the condom on, while you watch him resting on your elbows.

“Are you ready?” Vernon asks as he finds his place over you again, opening your legs slightly with his hand while you lay down again.

“Hm, I am,” you whisper, brushing his hair back, “Are you?”

“Y-yeah,” he says, offering his hand to you in a please hold me, “take a deep breath for me, okay? I read it can sting but we will go slow, okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I trust you.” you add before he pushes his tip inside. He keeps going so he fully settles in you, your pussy clenching around him as your hand squeezes his.

“You’re okay?” he asks, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before leaving a full of love kiss against it.

“Hm, j-just give me a minute.” you utter out, leaning into his touch against your cheek.

“You feel so good around me, my girl.” he whispers as he moans out loud at the way you clench around him at his words.

“Y-you can move.” you tell him, feeling your slight pain subside, only for pleasure to replace it.

As soon as he settles a gentle rhythm, you can feel his pleasure building up as he moans out louder at every passing second, your whines mixing with his, your pleasure sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“Babe- fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he whines, loving the way you tighten around him, “You feel so good- fuck, you’re so good for me.” he mumbles incoherently, pleasure taking over his every cells.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you whimper, “you can cum, cum for me, cum for me, baby,” you tell him, holding him as he plops against your chest, his hip giving one last push as he comes, burbling against your shoulder – a mix of moans, I love you’s and thank you’s.

You rub his back for a few minutes, waiting for him to come down his high, feeling his breath hit your neck every time he exhales. His heart, which you feel strumming against your chest, slowly calm down before he pulls out of you and gets up to get rid of the condom. He’s quickly back on the bed, holding himself over you, his face still harboring a pretty hue of red, drops of sweat still showing at his hairline.

“You look so pretty,” you whisper, looking up at him with stars in your eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers, a deeper shade of red creeping on his cheeks, “you didn’t come.” He mumbles under his breath, a slight pout making its way on his lips.

“It’s okay,” you mumble, slowly pushing him back so you can straddle him, “we have a whole life now, don’t we?” you laugh, kissing his cheek before getting up, “Come on! We need to shower.”

It’s only after a shared shower and countless kisses that you find yourself under the sheet again your head resting against his naked chest. You gently play with his fingers as it rests over the sheet, his other hand lightly rubbing at your bare back, giving you goosebumps all over.

“What now?” he says quietly, as if he expects you to let him slip through your fingers.

“Now, you can call me your girlfriend,” you chuckle slightly, knowing he doesn’t how to go about the new relationship, “and I’ll call you my boyfriend.” Vernon giggles at your corniness, loving how you can ease up his nerves so quickly.

“Okay, girlfriend. What do you want to do for our first date?” he asks after leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

You think for a few seconds, still playing with his fingers as he rests his chin on your head, before you sit up quickly, turning around to face him.

“I know, I know!” you say loudly, almost jumping up and down from excitement.

“Okay, babe,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “care to share a thought?”

“Let’s have watch Everything Everywhere All at Once as a first date!” you tell him, proud of your idea.

“Oh, didn’t I choose my girl well?” he says before grabbing your arm, making you fall down in his embrace again.

No matter what the future holds for you and Vernon, you both know that despite all the places you could be, you both just you want to be with each other. In every world. In every timeline. And in every universe.

thank you SO much for reading! remember that likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated so don't hesitate if you liked it 🫶

[agathaandbrienneslesbian]

Love Doth Run Smooth

Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Princess!Reader

Hello girls, gays and theys I am back with one last fic before the old year ends and the new one starts. Enjoy this short little fluffy and angsty Brienne fic and Happy New Year 🥳🥳❤️❤️

Thank you again for @weemssapphic and other friends for beta reading my silly little fics <3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warnings: Little Angst, mention of war and wounds, fear of abandonment, fear of loss, taking care of Brienne, lots of fluff.

Authors Note: Brienne comes back home to you after another victorious war. What will you do to make her feel at home?

Words: 1'500+

A03 Link

Taglist

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You were anxiously waiting, pacing back and forth in your chambers. It had been months since you’d last seen your knight and you missed her dearly. It didn’t sit right with you that she had to go to war. You were worried, scared she wouldn’t make it back, but evidently she IS the best and most skilled knight in all seven kingdoms. Still… war wasn’t something you wanted her in. The knight has fought enough. Her whole life has been a fight. She deserves to relax, to sleep, to rest. 

You knew very well that she first had to go to the king and queen, telling them of the war. You knew you had to wait, but you couldn’t. With trembling hands and a hammering heart, you left your room, against your father’s wishes. Sneaking through the hallways, you made your way to one of the balconies overlooking the great hall, where your eyes immediately fell onto your lover. 

Her short blonde hair was dirty and matted with dried blood. You knew why your parents didn’t want you present. The sight of her bloodied and injured physique made your heart ache. She stood stoic as she recounted the events of the war, how many soldiers they’d lost and how many had been injured beyond saving. But they were victorious. SHE was victorious. She always was. Your knight in shining armour, the strongest woman in all the seven kingdoms. But also the gentlest, the softest and the one deserving of all the love. 

It wasn’t a secret that you were courting the blonde warrior. Your father and mother have blessed your courtship, proud to have such a strong knight defending their lands and, at one point, continuing their reign with their daughter. Seeing her stumble when trying to get up from her kneeling position almost made you gasp out loud. She was injured more than she led on to believe. Your strong love. With quiet but quick feet, you made your way back to your chambers, calling the maids to get the bath ready for your lover.

Gathering some fresh clothing and a soft towel, you suddenly heard the door to your chambers opening and closing again. 

“Y/n?” A low, hoarse and quiet voice called out. You dropped everything you were holding onto the bed and rushed out to fall into your lover's arms.

“Brienne!” You whispered, your arms slung around her neck and nuzzling into her, holding back tears. She had her arms wrapped around your waist tightly and hid her face in the crook of your neck. You missed her, oh you missed her so very much. Pulling away, you looked into her eyes and your heart broke. She had cuts and bruises on her face and she looked tired, but she looked at you with so much love. 

“Oh, my love…” you whispered with a shaky breath and brushed some hair out of her face, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“I am sorry you have to see me like this my Lady…” she said quietly, searching your eyes for any negative emotion but all she saw was concern and love. It made her want to sob. The letters you sent her had kept her on her feet, fighting, fuelled by her love waiting for her. She still held you close against her, almost afraid of letting go. 

“No! No, don't apologise. Let me take care of you. Please. Let me tend to your injuries.” You said quickly, pulling away softly, taking the towels and clothes on the bed and grabbing her hand, gently tugging her towards the great bath. She was about to protest but seeing the determination in your eyes, she just gave you a small nod and a sweet smile. 

The bath water was ready, steaming up the room slightly and the maids had added some scent oils, making the room smell heavenly. You sat Brienne down on a chair and started taking off her armour. You made sure to be careful, as not to hurt her, in case she had any hidden injuries. Brienne tried to help you, but you just grabbed her hand, kissed it and put it back on her lap. Once all the armour was off, you started unlacing her underarmour, carefully peeling it off her body. Your breath hitched, and your brows furrowed in worry as you saw all the bruises and hidden injuries. 

“Oh Brienne…” you whispered out, looking into her eyes and she looked away quickly, ashamed of herself for making you so worried. With a soft hand, you lifted her gaze back to you and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“Please don’t feel ashamed of your scars. They're proof you’re still here. With me.” You whispered and stroked her short blonde hair back. She wrapped her strong arms around your waist and held you close, leaning her head against you and burying her nose in the fabric of your dress. The both of you stayed like this for a while, just basking in each other’s presence. After a few minutes, you pulled back gently. 

“Come! Let’s get into the bath!” You whispered as you pulled your dress and undergarments off, holding out a hand for her, which she gladly took. Leading her into the hot water, you were careful to not go too fast and help steady her.

Once in the bath, you sat her down again and moved to grab a washcloth. Dipping it into the water, you started gently cleaning her face, pressing kisses to her nose, her cheeks, her forehead and her lips. Brienne hummed gently, and a small, relaxed smile settled on her lips. After her face was all clean, you moved onto her arms, torso and back, making sure to pepper small kisses over her face as you went on. After her skin seemed to be cleaned from the dirt and blood, you moved on to her hair, grabbing a small bowl and pouring it over her hair as she tipped her head back. With gentle fingers, you washed the blood out of her hair, checking for any head injuries and just finding a dried-up cut. You cleaned it as well as possible and then set the bowl down. 

“Let's get you dressed in something comfortable,” you whispered to her and stroked her cheek lovingly. Brienne grabbed your hand and pressed a soft kiss to the palm of it. She didn’t answer but just nodded in agreement. 

Out of the bath, you helped her dry up and get dressed in some comfortable linen trousers and shirt before drying off and getting dressed yourself. When you entered your chambers, the maids had already placed a bowl of fruit, some fresh water and some pastries on the table. You placed Brienne on the bed gently, telling her to lie down and get comfortable. You grabbed the bowl and a glass of water for Brienne. 

“Drink my love.” You said gently, handing the glass to her and watching her drink it all. She looked way better now that all the blood and dirt were washed off, but she still looked exhausted and defeated. Climbing into bed next to her, she immediately turned to snuggle in. Your strong and deadly warrior. Pride and honour spread in your chest, knowing that Brienne only showed her vulnerable side to you, and you promised to protect her no matter what the cost would be. Laying like this, Brienne gently ate fruit from your fingers, and you made sure to be very careful when running your fingers through her soft blonde locks. A hum escaped her lips and she nuzzled her nose into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you”, the blonde whispered quietly. You knew she wasn’t used to this type of care and love, but you were determined to show her just how much she deserved it. 

“There is no need to thank me, Brienne. Everything I do, I do because I love you, because I care, because you are my soulmate,” you whispered softly, so as to not startle the calm moment. 

“I love you,” Brienne sniffled and wrapped her strong and toned arms around your waist, pulling you close. You set the bowl aside and wrapped your arms around her as well, placing gentle kisses on her hairline as you hum sweet praises and words of affirmation to her. Feeling Brienne relax in your arms, was the most wonderful feeling to you. It almost brought you to tears every single time she fell asleep in your arms. Your strong knight. You vowed to protect her heart, even if you’d have to kill. You would keep her heart safe. 

“I love you, Brienne,” you whispered against her and continued rubbing her back and running your fingers through her hair, keeping her safe from nightmares and anything that could keep her awake. You were her safe haven, her love, her everything, and she loved you more than anything. She wanted to marry you, and she wanted to marry you soon. Being a knight, her life was a dangerous and short-lived one. If she dies… when she dies, she wants to die knowing that she belonged to you, and you belonged to her. That your hearts and souls were one and that even in the afterlife you would know that she would be waiting for you. 

You were hers, and she was yours, and no force of nature could change that. Because when she’s with you, Love doth run smooth.

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Taglist: @erinyaya @vivendraws @phexyce @aemilia19 @weemssapphic @gela123 @winterfireblond @xxmecverxx @unicorniusfallapatorius

As always: Comments likes and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[akesdraws-blog]

I love you, but I know you don't love me back

Version: 🐢TMNT 2012🐢

❀Sometimes the problem is usually that the heart does not want to admit something that the mind knows and screams with all its might.❀

Sometimes we need a little bit of a bittersweet taste, cupid doesn't always shoot his arrows at both of us, sometimes he has some missed shots.

💙 Leonardo 💙

As well as a great leader, Leo is also an incredible gentleman.

But he never expected that such chivalry would cause a greater emotion than just kindness.

He will quickly notice some behaviors that were familiar from things he even did.

• Showing off for him

• The attention

• Overprotection

• Taking his side even if it was wrong

Attitudes like this did not go unnoticed.So don't expect a big stage or a rodeo.

He will be direct and just like a bandage on the skin, he will tear it off in one movement.

“If I'm misunderstanding, I apologize, but otherwise, I'd like to set the record straight, I'm only attracted to one person, and she's an amazing kunoichi, not just in combat, but also in my heart.”

That's right, don't expect anything more.

Make things clear and try not to be so rude.

He still hopes that they can remain friends despite everything.

He will accompany you home, and say goodbye as they always have.

But even if you close the window, he will stay in the shadows, listening to the soft sound of your sobbing.

He will hurt deep in your heart, he knows it, but he also knows it is for the best.

If your heart understands the pain sooner, it will take less time to heal.

~“The rain falls because the clouds can no longer support the weight. Tears fall because the heart can no longer bear the pain.”~

💜 Donatello 💜

Our silly genius is always making a new invention for his brothers and his friends.

After all that's your best way to show that someone cares.

Although it is no secret to anyone that Donnie is in love with April.

However, since what happened with Bigfoot, let's say that he now understands more things quickly.

But just as he doesn't usually reciprocate, he understands what you feel.

He may explain everything while you are helping him with an invention or while you play a video game.

“I... Don't take this the wrong way but... You know how I feel about April... And you know how she feels about me... I just want to say... I feel the same about you, as I do, what April feels for me... It sounds weird, I know, but... I hope you understand."

He doesn't try to be rude, he tries to be nice but he gets quite nervous.

He doesn't want his friendship to go down the drain, so if you don't say anything he might get a little chatty.

If you tell him that she's fine and that you just need a moment alone, he'll give it to you.He knows you have to process it.

He will still send you some message, just to know that everything is okay.

He will understand even if you don't appear in the sewer for a while, he will give you the space you need.

~“Love is not blind. Blind are those who run after those who do not love them.”~

~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~

We arrive with something a little sad, because sometimes we also need a dose of slight sadness. (I apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes) In case you missed it: Mikey/Raph

Tags:

@turtle-babe83. @dilucsflame33. @thelaundrybitch. @scholastic-dragon. @leosgirl82. @tmnt-tychou . @little-bunny-in-space . @happymoonangel. @lazyafgurl. @kikithedreamerwriter. @androidships007.

[xrenjunniesx]

Omg girl can I request one where they recently had an argument so she refuses to hold their hands in the car 🥹🩷🩷🩷

when you refuse to hold their hand

bf!nct dream

mark

the mood was tense still even as you both got into the car to go back home. the argument was a silly one at first but you both got really annoyed at each other never the less. he knew it was silly, so as he drove he tried to grab you hand, a quiet apology for the time being.

you snatched your hand away from his and he instantly looked at you with wide eyes before looking back on the road, slowly retracting his hand. after a minute of silence he will apologise in hopes you will at least hold his hand so he knows you’re okay.

“I’m sorry for the argument, I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

renjun

it was a serious fight, but he knew that even in the worst of fights you would both still continue to go on with your day to day lives full of habits involving each other such as goodbye kisses and hugs, even when mad at each other.

so when you retract your hand as he tries to hold it while he drives you both to the local market, he is hurt. you both had apologised for the argument right before you went to sleep the night before but things were still a bit tense now.

he keeps trying to hold your hand, whining a bit in the process until he gives up (for the time being).

jeno

the fight from last night caused you to be avoiding him all morning. he tried apologising again but you brushed it off and said it was fine.

when he remembered you had plans to go out with friends later today so he offered to drive you to their house, which you accept since it was easier than walking.

as soon as he began driving he instantly tried to hold your hand. when you keep pulling your hand away from him, he will stop trying and instead will talk. “why are you still mad at me?” “is there anything I can do?”

the car ride to your friends house became emotional to the point where you had to sit in the car for ten minutes after arriving just to sort things out.

haechan

he thought everything was good again after the fight. you both had apologised and seemingly made up, until a few hours later when you were still mad at him and acting distant.

in the car, he tried to make a move to at least hold you hand, but you instantly moved your hand away. instead he rested his hand just above your knee and kept silent… for a little while. “can I hold your hand, please?” he says, looking at you when he came to a red light.

you don’t move for a few seconds as you contemplate but eventually you do place your hand in his, making him smile.

jaemin

neither of you had apologised, but he thought it was a silly little fight that wasn’t serious at all. but as he drove you both home (which was going to be an hour drive) he realised it wasn’t fine. you were rather quiet and compared to normal, so he tried to hold your hand in hopes of easing the tension.

he didn’t expect you to instantly snatch your hand away from his, crossing your arms. he pulls his hand back and goes back to driving, not saying or doing anything about it until ten minutes later where he pulls into a parking lot and turns to face you. best believe you are both sorting this out before he continues driving.

chenle

he made some comments which were meant as a joke earlier, but it led to an argument which led to him apologising and then… he thought it was fine. but then in the car, he realised you were facing the window, completely ignoring him.

he tried to hold your hand before he began driving, but you kept moving it away from him. you shoot a glare at him when he kept trying, so he glares at you back and stops the car engine.

you ask why he stopped the car and he just stares at you. “we aren’t going anywhere until we sort this out or you hold my hand.”

you hold your hand out for him and he smiles, interlocking your fingers together and starting the car back up. “we are talking about this when we get home either way.”

jisung

he was annoyed at you, you were annoyed at him, but he still wanted to hold your hand. you were determined not to give it to him though. he was getting more and more hurt by your actions of avoidance. his last straw was in the car when he tried to hold you hand and you just snatched it away.

you thought he would whine again or look at you like he had been doing all night, but he didn’t. he just kept driving and didn’t speak to you. you started feeling bad, realising that maybe you went too far considering he did try and apologise to you earlier but you just ignored him.

so instead you apologise, quietly, but he hears it. “that hurt, you know?” he says, still not looking at you. you do end up holding hands but the heavy tension is still there.

[thissongisawesome]

now, do i personally believe that maya and franziska would actively try to get phoenix and edgeworth together? not really. BUT. i don't see the harm in people writing scenarios in which they would? ik this sounds silly since maya and franziska wingmaning is one of the more popular ace attorney fic tropes, but i feel like recently i've seen a lot of hate towards and and i don't understand why!

think of it this way: maya is phoenix's best friend and like pseudo little sister, they're extremely close, and i'm pretty sure she teases him about his love life AT LEAST once in canon (it could be more, or i could've completely made this up, but i've played the trilogy enough where if i tried i could probably find an example but it's late and i'm tired). anyway with that said, why WOULDN'T she care about them getting together? she's shown in the first game to be pretty invested in "the deal with [nick] and edgeworth" her words, not mine. i'm not one to speak on later games because i honestly haven't touched them in over two years and even then they were a complete blur and i forgot everything except that edgeworth looked really ugly from the front. but. if my memory serves me i don't think their dynamic changed much? i can't see her caring AS much at 28 as she would at 17, because obviously she's grown and matured, but i don't think she'd be completely uninterested like some people say. maybe she wouldn't be wearing comical disguises to spy on them, but i could see her encouraging nick, or idk just telling trucy stuff about their old cases to stir something up.

i think the franziska side of things is where i'm a little more understanding, but also not really. on one hand, i get that she's very well put together and mature seeming. on the other hand, that's only how she SEEMS. i won't get into a whole franziska analysis because this post is already longer than i wanted and no one wants to hear me ramble about her, but she's not really as mature as she seems. anyway, would she care THAT much? the answer may surprise you!

now think of it THIS way: edgeworth is franziska's little brother. despite how she acts sometimes she obviously loves him dearly, and would (probably) just want him to be happy, with whatever foolishness it may endure. phoenix wright is franziska's sworn enemy. she can't stand him and feels as though he has personally wronged her before they even met. absolutely hates his guts (except for when they investigate together then they can be friends). franziska is incredibly smart, but she's clearly not the best emotionally. even with that, though, she seems to understand how important edgeworth is to phoenix ("earthquake blah blah blah" "are you thinking of miles edgeworth blah blah blah"). she kind of just accepts this, even though it implies that phoenix (a man he only recently reconnected with) would be on a similar level of emotional connection as his sister. maybe she doesn't think much about it though. she's just like sure whatever you're his most dear and indispensable friend i don't care anymore. do people really think that, if somehow she came to the conclusion that edgeworth had feelings for phoenix she wouldn't care in any way??? i'm not saying it'd necessarily be positive and all "you go girlfriend!", but to say she wouldn't CARE is so wild. she'd probably be furious, and so maybe she wouldn't wingman. but she does CARE about her brother, and honestly if it were presented to her on the right way she probably would wingman. one "hey franziska. i bet you can't make your brother get with phoenix wright. if they get together without your guidance then that basically means edgeworth beat you btw" and she's suddenly invested. (dramatized, but you get the point)

tldr; maya and franziska are not so nonchalant and cool that they wouldn't care about one of the most significant people in their lives having feelings for their courtroom rival of over a decade. that is all.

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 12

I am sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry for this.

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Angst (!!!), murder, blood, guns, violence, death.

(I PROMISE EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY! You've just gotta trust me.)

Word Count: 2,724

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

He can’t take the silence any longer. You should have been home hours ago.

All his texts go unanswered and his calls go straight to voicemail. You’ve had late nights at the HYDRA base, but never this late – never an early morning kind of late.

He knows you’re capable. Knows that you’re one of the strongest people, the best agent, the best everything, but something doesn’t feel right. He can’t feel you. He knows that’s stupid – that he isn’t psychic or empathic or whatever he’d need to be to feel someone’s presence when they’re not in the room with him, but he’s always felt you. 

He can feel you down in his bones, his body unable to forget your voice, your laugh, your smell, your body beside, on, under his own. There’s no one in this universe that he knows better, that knows him better, than anyone else. 

Used to know. Until he fucked it up. Until he fucked everything up and drove you away. Drove you so far away that you weren’t even on the same continent for months, that you never picked up the phone and called him, that you didn’t send any silly texts at 2 am like you used to. He was too embarrassed and ashamed of his reaction to contact you first. He thought it’d be too impersonal to apologize over the phone and admit how scared he was when you confessed to loving him and how sorry he is for what he did afterwards.

That’s why he sent Steve and Sam to bring you home: so that he could see you again and explain himself to you and hopefully confess that, yes of course he loves you too. He was so nervous as he watched the quinjet approach, worried that you wouldn’t like his outfit, or the stubble on his jaw, or his new haircut that he got for you because he remembered how often you’d run your fingers through it and comment on how hot you thought shorter hair would look on him.

But then he cornered you in that hallway. Felt his heart break as you told him that you got over him, that you didn’t love him anymore and never did in any meaningful way. You assured him that you could be friends again if that’s what he wanted.

Of course that’s what he wanted. Of course he wanted to be friends. But he also wanted everything else – what you had before that night at the movies and what you could have had after. He wanted the date nights, and forehead kisses, and hand holding. He wanted the quick fucks, and makeout sessions, and love-making. He wanted all of it with you.

He still does. 

But you don’t.

He will forever regret the words he said to you that drove you away and dissolved the love that you felt for him. He will never forgive himself for taking away your future together. And after that disastrous conversation with you about Petre, he feels like he’s gone right back to square one. He doesn’t know what to do with his emotions and can’t express himself properly to save his life.

He knows what you said, knows the meaning behind the individual words you spoke to him last night: that you and Petre are not together in any way. But Bucky knows that isn’t what Petre wants – knows that Petre wants you in a way that Bucky used to have you, that Bucky could have had you, and more. Because Bucky sees the way that Petre looks at you, the way his eyes follow you around the room as you say hello and chat with his family when they’re around.

Knows that Petre has already asked his mother if she knew of anything else about you before he moved forward with a proposal, if there was somewhere specific he should do it, what else to bring besides his grandmother’s ring. Petre had been across the room with Tessa during this conversation, but Bucky’s serum-enhanced hearing picked it up and he knew that Petre was head-over-heels for you because how could he not be?

He’ll also never forgive himself if something happened to you at HYDRA. Your argument from last night has been lingering between the two of you, and he doesn’t know what to do to fix it – it’s just the actual process and action of initiating that conversation and exposing his squishy insides to you that causes his brain to shut down and his mouth to spew out stupid shit. He knows that you would never turn him away for being vulnerable, but just the way he’s acted when feelings have come up… it leaves a sour taste in his mouth and he’s sure it’s left one in yours as well. 

But you were supposed to call him at lunchtime and he would have said everything he’s been bottling up right then and there. Would have blurted it out because god damn him and his stupid mouth because every time he’s tried to bring it up, he’s fucked up and he hurt you. He doesn’t want to – can’t do that to you again. If you had just called when you said you would, it would have all been cleared up by now and you’d be home and hopefully in his arms and, and, and.

But you didn’t call. You’re not home. Bucky hasn’t apologized.

He’s already called Steve and requested backup – he’d rather be safe than sorry. Now all he’s waiting on is –

His phone that he’d left faceup on the countertop before him beeps and the screen flashes with a notification. Tony finally sent the link to track your location, letting him know where you’re at. Before his heart can even beat again, another message scrolls across the top of his screen.

That’s all Bucky needs before he races out the door, not even bothering to grab a coat before the door slams behind him. Tony’s second message burns behind Bucky’s eyes and makes it hard to think.

Hurry. Something’s not right…

***

The ATV Bucky ‘borrowed’ off one of the neighbors is perfectly capable of getting someone where they’re going, but Bucky grew frustrated with the speed as soon as he raced away with it. He’d have been happier on his souped-up motorcycle, roaring down the roads and sending gravel flying, but it’d be impractical on the freshly fallen snow and hilly terrain. 

His heart stutters in his chest every time he looks down at your tracker’s location and doesn't see it moving. There’s no way you’d be sitting idly in one spot deep in the forest, nearly 20 miles away from the HYDRA base and the house you’ve been sharing with Bucky. The home the two of you have made since arriving.

He thinks of how the two of you should be at the house now - fast asleep, maybe in the same bed if he’d found the right words to tell you what’s been going on in his head, why he was being such a asshole yesterday and how he never should have said any of the shit he did – or at least phrased it better, correctly. 

Every time Bucky remembers your fight last night, he feels the air leave his lungs and a fist form in his throat. The way your face had crumpled when he said you could be together again but then immediately shifted into a flat stare, no emotion evident when you told him that he was the reason that could never happen. Your broken voice when he tried to approach you again when he followed you home. The wrenching, muffled sobs he could hear you trying to smother across the hall as he laid there wide awake, his own tears soaking the pillow.

If Bucky could turn back time, he never would have asked you to be friends-with-benefits. His emotions were all over the place and he was still relishing his freedom, his autonomy that had been returned to him. He didn’t think he wanted any kind of committed relationship back then because he thought it would suffocate him, make him feel like he wasn’t his own person anymore, that there was someone that he had to answer to again.

He should have known that you wouldn’t have made him feel that way – that you are the exception to every rule and that you always helped build him up, never once did anything that made him feel suffocated or out of control. He’d been the one to initiate your friendship, he’d been the one that sought you out for no-strings-attached sex. You’d only ever been there for him, followed him when he needed to get away from the others, listened when he needed to talk to someone. Loved him when he didn’t want to be loved.

And what did he do with that love? He threw it away, crushed it under the sole of his boot in that alley way, let you walk away from his life when you should have worked it out together.

When he’d finally gotten his head out of his ass and realized that all the late nights, deep conversations, the comfort and warmth he felt in your presence: that was love. He didn’t recognize it at the time, but he knew that you were important to him, that you were the only one he could spend so much time with and not become overwhelmed. It took you leaving for him to realize everything that you did for him, all the support you offered. 

He spent a lot of time with his therapist after that. He used to be so angry at you and he knew it was unfair, that it wasn’t logical to be so mad at someone for falling in love, but he was. His therapist listened to his deepest, darkest, most wretched feelings about you, about himself. They helped him to realize that he wasn’t mad at you, that he was only frightened of the love you had for him and the feelings that brought up in him. He didn’t realize he found himself so unlovable and broken that he didn’t think anyone could love him like that. Could love him like you do. 

Did. Love him like you did until he ruined that love like he always knew he would, deep down. It took a lot of time and effort, but he finally understands what he feels for you. 

But now it might be too late.

Bucky is only a mile out from your location when he hears the barking of dogs and men yelling to each other. He pushes the ATV faster, dodging between trees and ducking under branches. Seconds later, Bucky sees lights bouncing off of a decrepit shack and agents wearing HYDRA uniforms scrambling around. 

He takes one hand off the handle and pulls his pistol from the waistband of his pants. He clears the treeline and jumps from the vehicle, ducking and rolling onto the ground. The ATV flies forward and knocks down one of the agents. They all turn to investigate the commotion, and Bucky starts firing.

He shoots one, two, three people off of their feet and they collapse onto the ground in pools of blood. Realizing at this point that Bucky is a threat, the others around the cabin pull their weapons out and aim for Bucky. He clears the next six with one shot each, leaving only two standing and no bullets left in his magazine. Bucky launches the empty pistol straight into one of the assailant’s temples, sending him sprawling. At the same second the pistol leaves his hand, Bucky sprints at the remaining HYDRA agent and slams his metal fist into their face, blood and bone splattering.

Grabbing the gun from this last agent, Bucky grips it in his fist and enters the building. Pivoting side to side, there’s no one immediately in his line of sight. He can see blood spatters around the room, in front of the bookshelf and desk, and a pool of it right in front of him in the archway between rooms. Bucky can hear someone just on the other side of the wall and he adjusts his hands around the gun, finger hovering over the trigger. 

Quickly rounding the open archway, Bucky finds his worst nightmare.

He sees you lying motionless on the ground, your warm, red blood steaming as it puddles around your body. A HYDRA operative stands over you, gun poised and ready. 

Without another thought, Bucky unloads the weapon. He riddles the final agent with bullet holes, ensuring that their finger will never pull the trigger on you. He doesn’t watch as they fall, instead running towards you with only one thought in his head: Please. Please be alive.

Bucky reaches your body where you lie on your side, facing away from him. He quickly rolls you onto your back and watches as your head lolls from the motion. 

“Y/N,” he calls hoarsely, placing his hands on your cheeks and patting quickly. “Y/N. Doll, wake up.” 

Your eyes remain closed and you don’t move. Heart in his throat, Bucky places his fingers on your neck.

Nothing.

“Oh god,” Bucky whines.

Nausea roils in his stomach as Bucky places his hands one over the other on your chest, fingers interlocked. He begins compressions, forcing your heart to circulate what little blood remains in your veins. He feels your ribcage creak and groan under the pressure, knowing he will break bones but hoping the effort will revive you.

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty. 

Bucky removes his hands from your chest and uses them to tilt your head backwards, opening up your airway. He clamps your nose shut and presses his lips over yours, forcing two breaths into your lungs. He returns immediately to chest compressions, counting up to thirty again and repeating the process.

“Come on, doll. Come back to me.”

It feels like hours that Bucky crouches over your body, working hard to manually pump your heart and keep your brain oxygenated. He doesn’t know how long you’ve been without a pulse, but he’ll do anything to give you a chance at survival.

A loud whirring sound comes from outside and Bucky can hear boots hit the ground. He panics for a second, wondering how he’s going to keep you safe while also keeping you alive, until he hears Steve’s voice.

“Buck? Y/N?!”

“In here!” Bucky yells frantically.

Multiple people come barreling into the kitchen where Bucky is administering CPR. Shock and dread wash over everyone’s faces at the sight in front of them, but Bucky doesn’t have time for them to stand around. You don’t have time.

“Help her!” he cries, lungs and muscles burning. “Please!”

Natasha tries to rush forward, but her booted leg slows her down. Steve and Sam collapse on either side of your body, Sam pushing Bucky out of the way to start his own compressions. Bucky thunks to the ground, his body exhausted from the fear and effort of the last little while.

Wanda runs in, using her powers to suspend the regeneration cradle in the air and bring it over to you. Tony and Nat help Steve and Sam lift you up off the ground and into the machine as Bucky watches your cooling blood drip, drip, drip from your body.

Wanda’s face is wet with tears as she picks the cradle back up with you inside. Using a pulse from his palm, Tony blows a hole in the kitchen wall. Scraps of paper fly off the table and land near Bucky. Wanda takes you directly outside and into the waiting quinjet, Nat and Tony running alongside her. 

A blast of cold air from the open wall slams into Bucky and chills him to his core. He looks down at himself and finds his hands and legs covered in blood. Your blood. One of the pieces of paper catches his eye as it turns red where it lays on the floor. He scoops it up gently and tries to make out what is written.

Bucky can tell instantly that it is your handwriting, but it’s nearly illegible now. He can barely make anything out, and what he can rips his heart to shreds. A wet hiccup tears out of Bucky’s throat and his hands start to quake uncontrollably as he stares at your words.

In case these are my last words,

Don’t be sad. I wish that I could  have spent the rest of my life with you. I just want you all to know that I love you. so , so much. 

“I’m too late,” he whispers. “She’s… she’s…”

Steve and Sam grab either of Bucky’s arms and drag him to his feet. 

“We’ve gotta go, pal,” Steve says. “We’ve gotta get her to Helen!” Nodding his head, Bucky allows his friends to lead him outside and onto the jet. 

He watches you lying in the cradle, not moving, the entire way home.

Part 13

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[dufferpuffer]

In continuation of the 'pillow prince/ss/' topic.. Snape sex hcs? I remember you said it's basically impossible to drag him into bed but I'D TRY.

You're just spoiling me, aren'tcha? First Remus now Sev... Severus Snape is devoted to duty. Its the only thing holding him together. How often does he even go to bed…? A full-time teacher, a spy, a death eater, Dumbledore's dark little knight - He probably considers the time he spends marking 'rest enough'.

His self-esteem is dead. So dead he has come to terms with its corpse and uses it as protection. He's been teased his entire life for his looks. By his parents, by his schoolmates, by his teachers, by his cult, by his students... He's proud of how it has hardened him. It's become part of his ego: He's heard it all before - and now the words run off his oily feathers like raindrops.

Having someone say they think him anything less than hideous? Baffling. But while Remus would become a flustered mess... I think Severus would stages-of-grief it. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression… Because his romantic, affectionate side is also a corpse. It died alongside his best friend and he's spent the last decade-and-a-half making sure it stays buried.

To bring it back? That will take a stubborn dedication that rivals his. It takes grit and damn near necromancy. He will fight back, too - because to raise it from the dead is to raise Lily along with it. That is the greatest hurdle: Best friend or love of his life - either way she was the only person he has been affectionate with. He will need to digest that. He hasn't worked through his grief yet, because it is a difficult thing to work through alone. …but he CAN reach Acceptance.

One step, one stage at a time - peeling down each layer of his onion, like an ogre... Things move slowly with Severus - and in the opposite order you might expect. I guess I will go through what a relationship would be like with Severus, in a sorta dot-point fanfic format:

First note: He is allergic to showing weakness - and what he considers a weakness can be... strange. Indulgence. Emotions, affection, touch, company - he has no time for that garbage. He is in control of himself, of his body, of his feelings, of his life. Meticulous, complete control. This man 'tops' exclusively**

He is ashamed of masturbation. It means he has lost control of his emotions - and it grinds against his ego like sandpaper. He almost never does it. Thinking about anyone in particular when doing it is an insult to them - and he hates feeling guilty. He keeps it simple and almost self-harmingly dry. He has more important things to be doing with his time than engaging with this weakness…

You make your interest in him clear. He goes through everything - he belittles and denies your feelings, he gets angry with you for bothering him, he asks you to stop saying such nonsense... and he gets frustrated that even when you've finally shut up, he is STILL dwelling on it. He spends so long just tossing things up, sorting through his grief, imagining it... so, SO sick of jerking off… …when the dam bursts - he fucks. If he is going to be spending all this time obsessing over these stupid feelings he may as well get something out of it. Only sex, though. Sex he is in control of. Clothes on, greedy, not pretty, not nice. 'Thats what you wanted from me, yes? Well you've gotten it. Happy?!?' ((He does not expect the answer to be 'yes'.))

He thinks one time was too many, and did it only to take it off his mind - and to stop having you bother him about it. But it is easier for you to get him to do it a second time. And then a third... fourth... The more times it happens - and nothing embarrassing or bad follows... well, if he has done it once, he may as well do it more, right…? You are evidently trustworthy. '…You may come to my chambers IF I call - at no other times. I am too busy to play silly games.' A casual physical relationship - to solve a problem of distraction and concentration. That's all.

He does start to call. Occasionally at first - and every time he almost shows surprise that you actually turn up. But he gets less and less surprised... and starts getting more and more needy. 'You're late. I sent for you half an hour ago. Do you think I am made of time?!' He doesn't even realize how needy he sounds, because this activity is now ingrained in his routine. He is used to it. And because he is used to it: He touches more. More clothes come off. But never his own. He has gone from 'hands-on-waist' fucking to caressing your naked body - slow rolls of his hips, making his own breathe shudder, enjoying every sensation.

One day his summons aren't replied to. At first he angry. How dare you. How DARE you waste his time!? The next time they are alone he snaps at you bitterly. 'Finally tired of me? Got your fill? Met a better man?' When the response is more along the lines of 'I was a bit ill' or 'I was out'... he realizes he has shown far too much of his hand. How embarrassing. He is speechless at his own foolishness. He showed an inch of vulnerability and expects to be raked through the coals for it. ...What he doesn't expect is acceptance, tenderness and respect.

He had forgotten that he wasn't the one to initiate this arrangement - that he was wanted. Desired. In his mind he had taken control: Everything happened when he wanted, where he wanted and in whichever way he wished. To be touched in a friendly way? To he apologized to - for being made to worry? To have make-up sex offered…? '…Yes. Alright.' Its the next layer peeled off. He starts listening to offers, enjoying being asked instead of being answered. It's still a casual affair - and yet seeing them talk to other people no longer makes his hackles raise in concern for his secrets. Running into them in the morning no longer makes his skin crawl with shame and embarrassment for the night before. He feels excited when they pay a visit in the midday, offering an impromptu meeting. It is oddly... comfortable.

Of course it can't always be sex in the midday. It is too much effort, takes too much time, energy and clean-up. It suits him fine when you jump on the chance to put him in your mouth. At first he is a little taken-aback - but it feels nice. He says nothing other than contented hums, but as you get better he groans and arcs his back a little. He doesn't care what happens when he finishes - swallow or not, as long as it is not a mess for him to clean up. …Well, he tries to be that callous about it… but it doesn't last long. There is a tenderness to the act he can't deny. It isn't the mutual-benefit fucking. This is a gift for him to enjoy. That realization settles and festers in him. It creates a soft feeling he doesn't recognize... and a desire not to owe you anything.

So, without much fanfare: he reciprocates. He gets you on his seat, or on his desk, and gets down on his knees... He is a little nervous about it - when was the last time he did this, if ever…? - But he has no need to be. He is a god with his mouth. It's his attention to detail. His devotion to getting things done thoroughly and properly - even this. What starts as an embarrassing action from the weakness of his heart turns into a strong pleasure for him. He LOVES oral. It isn't him losing control: it's him gaining it. Even when his hair is gripped and yanked, even if he is pulled close and suffocated a little on you - HE is making that happen. HE is making you do that. He never expected this to make him so happy, so hot. He never expected to undo the buttons of his high collar so his neck could move more easily, to unbutton and fold up his right sleeve so he could get his hands messy... To have enough fun to start saying some truly dirty things… 'That good, is it~?' 'My-! How delicate you are today!' 'Stop squirming. Too sensitive…? Just grit your teeth and bear it.' ...and he didn't expect to not be laughed at for such things.

He certainly didn't expect to get so into it that he kissed you to shut you up as you came. A shock to both of you… another wall crumbled. Turns out he likes that too. He starts initiating sexual activity with a kiss. He prefers kissing to talking. It is succinct and expressive. Walk into his office: as soon as the door is shut your back is pressed against it, wrists in his hands, his mouth against yours. If he starts losing control of the kiss he gently bites your lip, dragging his teeth along it teasingly. Your tongue invades his mouth before he has a chance to do it first: he just about shoves your hands into his robes, tearing into your clothes... This man lives for kissing now.

But he still doesn't realize this is more than casual, that this is something he needs… Until you chat. Its a quiet moment. You comment on the parchments rolled at the edge of his desk. 'Oh - that is just my own research into the effects of aconite. I had to work with it extensively a few years ago.' You take an interest, and he starts regaling deeper and deeper into his studies: how poorly documented others' research is; how it reacts to other ingredients; how modern brewing processes can draw so much more out of it - 'you know, the plant is often just passed off as toxic when even basic purification charms are enough to-' ...He is blabbering. On and on about a dull topic nobody cares about… yet you are listening. His jaw drops a little. He realizes that, for the first time in two decades, someone cares. Someone truly cares. About HIM. His thoughts, his interests... He never thought he could have this again. He didn't think that for the sex, either - but sex, compared to this, was easy to procure. He wants to kiss you again. But not for lust this time.

Suddenly it doesn't feel so embarrassing to allow his eyes to become wet, to draw a shuddering breathe as he builds the courage - of which he has masses of - to say something important: '…I am afraid I have come to love you.' It is a terrifying thing to say, but he has never once shied away from saying what is important, even if it results in pain. And yet this time, for once… he feels like he can trust that it wont.

** Many times later, he is laying down as his shirt gets unbuttoned, his collarbone kissed... He doesn't feel ashamed, even as he gently strokes his own dick, encouraging it to harden. He pulls his arms from his shirt sleeves, fearless of his dark mark being exposed. For once work is at the back of his mind as he allows himself to be pushed back down to into the pillows, chuckling as he is told: 'Shh… just lay still darling… I'll take care of you tonight…' ...And he does. Control well out of his hands and a smile on his face.

[rosemariilovesyou0922]

WHAT DID I JUST WATCH???

SPOILERS TWF4 !!!

It was the best thing I could ever experience rn, I'm pretty much ascending. The fact that there was ANIMATION?? ON IT??? Martin is extremely talented I swear to god.

Personally I think a Lot of My questions we're kind of answered. Deffinetly not the "Where the hell is Jack?", No I'm Even more confused about that... I THOUGHT LIKE- FELIX GOT RID OF HIM OR SOMETHING I DIDN'T THINK HE WOULD TELL THEM WHAT HE DID? I honestly thought he would hide it and kill anyone who knew (he didn't need to they're all pretty dead). I honestly felt slightly Bad for him, HE DUG A HOLE FOR HIMSELF 😭. I swear I was SHOCKED- mouth open eyes wide type of stuff, I COULD FEEL HOW AWFUL HE FELT, He reeks of guilt, desesperation and actual negativo emotions, where before I honestly think he only transmited me the smell of alcohol or something; I deffinetly feel Bad for him now.

Okay so aside from the whole Felix thing here's a few things I really enjoyed/noticed:

Beggining ANIMATION with Ed and Molly; knowing what happened that night it was honestly really sad and I felt like it was the Best way to start pt4

THIS HAHAHHA:

ROSIE VOICE REVEALL!!! Girl I swear, it's extremely obvious how hard I Stan Rosemary Peony Walten SO You know I started levitating ‼️‼️

"Bon" appears in the video early on so that's cool, aside from that uhhh Tv Guy is deffinetly going to be quite the goofy silly guy so stan

SUSAN AND CHARLES BEING SILLLLYYY!!!

Charles struck me as kind of a manager? Someone who does stay in the establishment and is involved but isn't actually like- an engenieer or chef.

Susan You wonderfull woman I swear the strong ass mecanic lesbian is all I needed in my life.

So the whole animatronics moving around and facial recognition actually clear up a bunch of stuff for me, for instance: How the hell would Bon be able to tell who Sophie was. Also I was screaming for them to run whenever an animatronic was lowkey near, scary stuff.

AWOOPPPP TIME SKIP!! Or something skip I have no clue, Charles and Susan talking about Rocket being there. Rosemary and Jack did not know Félix was an alcoholic aparently, that explains why Jack would ever let him drive his children anywhere from somewhere there would be alcohol at.

JACK?? JACK BANGING AND KNOCKING ON THE DOOR FOR FELIX TO OPEN ACTUALLY GOT ME SHOCKED TO MY GODDAMN CORE?? HIS VOICE IS CHILLING.

Félix and the whole cliff scene really broke me not going to lie, You dumbass of man, you're stupid and reckless but I feel awfull for you.

Felix told Rosemary and Jack what happened which actually throws my "Oh yeah Felix deffinetly sent killer animatronics to kill his Best friend and his family so the business wouldn't crash" theory down the drain. Also Rosemary asking for the doll, I cannot imagine how devastated She would have felt, She does not deserve that.

Alright that was terrifying!! Scary imagery actually got me bit scared at atimes, which is good, the show keeps me on My toes.

WHO THE HELL IS INSIDE OF BON?????? WHO IS THAT...

The fact that: We could actually SEE how he KILLED Susan but ED AND MOLLY HAD TO WATCH TOO 😨

Poor children, god.

The animation actually scared me really Bad, it was so unreal and disturbing in a sense that Made You feel like you'd get jumpscared at any moment, that's what makes this kind of horror amazing.

The whole conversation between "Bon" and Susan/Banny is something You have to watch for yourself.

She was ALIVE in the SUIT, GOD 😭

The fact her 'Wonderland' for has her neck snapped and everything, it looked so disturbing, it was really clear how she got killed.

THE MUSIC WAS CELESTIAL, I PRAISE WHOEVER PLANNED THE SONGS THAT PLAYED BECAUDE EVERY SINGLE ONE MADE IT TEN TIMES BETTER.

Ed and Molly at the end :[