#those will just be the asks I’m more wildcard on

[bubblybloob]

Guess this place will more or less just be an art blog

It-

It is an art blog

Did you not read the tin

Oh read the tags I had a realization.

[gilverrwrites]

Batguys when they have for the first time a vibrator put ON THEM (their dicks) by reader during sex ( they never experienced a toy on themselves before, it was always used on their girl if they were using toys).

AND I’m the same person that send the bat guys vibrators suggestion! What if the guys thought the vibrator was only for women and they’re proven other wise 😏😉

AN: I’m not convinced of them not knowing per se, so much as they’ve just never considered it for various reasons. So, in order of understood to least understood; Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Roy

Batman:

He knows full well the effects, he’s just hates to not be in control. So when you finally pin him down long enough to have your way, it’s because he lets you. When you teasingly glide the tip of your vibe along his length he purposely bucks his hips, urging you to use it on his sensitive tip, enjoying the whole commotion more than he thought he would.

The gloriously thick muscles of his thighs tense under his own self-restraint as you finally give him what wants.

“You’re taking it so well Brucie.” You coo and he glares at you from beneath his brow, trying and failing to maintain dominance but the rest of his body betrays him; his cheeks are tinted a precious shade of red, his broad chest heaving with each shallow breath.

When you praise him again; “You’re such a good boy.” He loses it completely.

Nightwing:

100% understands, but why would he ever want to use them on himself, when he could use them on you?

Then again, you’re so cute with those big puppy dog eyes, that mischievous grin when you ask to try something on him, how could he say no? And my god, he is a sight to behold. Even having seen the effect your bullet has on you, the way it makes you wither and moan uncontrollably, nothing could prepare him for his first experience.

He’s so loud, louder than you and just as unruly. His hands gripping tight to every surface, you, the headboard, the pillows, the mattress nothing satiates him. His long legs stretch, his toes curl, hips rolling and jerking for friction as his whole body shakes. Unable to muster the normal slew of filth he typically showers you with; he pants your name between obscenely breathless moans until he cums all over himself.

Side note: I swear, put this man in a vibrating cock ring, I need it.

Red Hood:

He’s just literally never thought about it before. One night you ask him to grab something from your bedside drawer and you’re surprised when he comes back holding your wand. When you ask if he wants to try it out, this is not what he expects.

Hell, if he’s not complaining though. Jason has never seen this kind of thing in action, so he’s lounging on the bed, legs spread wide as he leans against the headboard, not expecting too much.

When you tease the vibrating head along his shaft, causing it to twitch, he laughs and jokes about it tickling, but the moment you press it to the tip of his cock his whole body trembles.

“Ah, fuck baby.” He bites his lip, trying and failing to keep his eyes from rolling back. “Right there, right there, please don’t stop.”

Arsenal:

And if I may throw a wildcard in the mix;

Roy is exactly the kind of smart but dense kinda guy who could tinker away endlessly, making the perfect toys (out of equipment intended for weaponry might I add) to meet your needs, things meant to fill you in all the right spaces, to vibrate and pulse at the strength and speed that drives you wild, without it ever occurring to him that it could be used on him too.

He’s already hard as a rock and close to the edge after you’ve gone down on him, when you show him what you’re doing he lazily mumbles “Oh come on baby, that’s not gonna do anything.”

He’s proven almost immediately wrong. He’s lovingly cupping your face or holding your hair back but when he feels the vibrating sensation on his already sensitive cock his grip automatically tightened like a vice.

The skin from his cheeks to his belly growing hotter with each pulse until his body is just a few shades lighter than his hair, he’s sweating, eyes watering, begging for release and when you grant it he nearly tumbles over, legs weak and trembling.

[seafarersdream]

Kismet | Modern AU! (Jace Velaryon x Y/N)

Jace Velaryon, a wealthy legacy student at the University of Cambridge and captain of the football club, is barely surviving his second year in majoring in History and Politics. With a 5,000-word paper looming, Jace is hopelessly lost. His concerned professor decides to assign him a study partner: Y/N L/N, a star student. Y/N knows all about Jace’s wild reputation and his band of troublemaking friends. She's managed to steer clear of his orbit—until now. Aegon Targaryen, ever the wildcard, throws down a challenge to Jace: a bet on whether he can get Y/N into his bed. After all, Jace is a notorious womanizer, with a reputation for charming his way through the university’s female population. Should be easy enough for him, no? Word count: 14,5k

TW // Strong language and profanities, explicit scenes (oral), dub-con, sexual innuendos, alcohol use and intoxication, emotional manipulation, smoking, slow burn narrative.

Note: Massive thanks to @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 for the idea! Hope I did it justice. I really ran with this one—what can I say? I love a good, slow build-up. So yeah, this fic definitely got way longer than I planned. But hey, grab some snacks, settle in, and enjoy!

“Five thousand words? She’s taking the piss, isn’t she?” He thought.

Jace Velaryon slouched back in the worn, creaky chair, an amused grin tugging at his lips as he stared at the ceiling of Professor Jeyne Arryn’s office. The beams above were ancient, older than his ancestors probably, and seemed like they might crumble at any second. He couldn’t help but think it’d be a hell of an excuse to get out of this meeting if the whole damn roof just collapsed right then and there.

Professor Jeyne Arryn, all prim and proper in her tweed blazer and horn-rimmed glasses, sighed dramatically from behind her desk, fingers tenting in that classic I’m disappointed in you way. “Jacaerys, you do realize that the War of the Roses is one of the most pivotal conflicts in English history, right? It’s not something you can just... ‘wing’ in a night.”

Jace chuckled, the sound rich and careless. “Is that a challenge, Prof?” he teased, stretching out his long legs, one foot resting lazily on the opposite knee. “You know I love a good challenge. Ask anyone on the pitch.”

She didn’t smile. She never did, not when he was being an ass—which, admittedly, was most of the time. “This isn’t a game, Mr. Velaryon,” she said, voice tight with irritation. “You can’t charm your way through a five-thousand-word paper like you do with the girls or your professors, for that matter.”

Jace scoffed, giving her a cocky wink. “Worked on you, didn’t it? Remember that first-year exam?” He flashed her a grin that was all white teeth and mischief, the kind that usually got him out of trouble—or into it, depending on the situation.

Professor Arryn's lips twitched, but she quickly straightened her expression. “Enough, Mr. Velaryon. This isn’t negotiable. You’re going to do this paper, and you’re going to do it well, even if it kills you. Or, more accurately, if it kills me trying to drag you through it.”

Jace rolled his eyes, the weight of her seriousness finally sinking in. “Alright, alright, you’ve got my attention. What’s the plan then? A crash course in roses and wars?”

Jeyne leaned forward, her tone softening just a fraction. “I’ve assigned you a study partner.”

He sat up straighter, eyebrows shooting up. “A what now?”

“A study partner. Someone to help guide you through the research, outline, and, hopefully, writing process. Someone who actually understands the material and takes it seriously.”

Jace frowned, feeling his stomach twist. “Who?” he asked, wary now. “Not one of those posh History Society nerds, yeah?”

Professor Arryn smiled, a thin, knowing smile. “No, not one of those... though she is quite the academic star. Y/N L/N.”

Jace blinked, trying to place the name. It sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember a face to go with it. “Y/N?” he echoed, like it might conjure up a memory. “The one with the… cat?”

Jeyne’s smile grew wider. “Yes, that one. She’s in her third year. Sharp as a tack, that girl. And far more disciplined than you.”

“Great,” Jace muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “So, I’m stuck with a cat lady who probably hates my guts. This’ll be fun.”

“Perhaps,” Jeyne replied, “it’ll be good for you to spend some time with someone who doesn’t fawn over you or buy into your charm. And let’s be honest, Jacaerys, you need all the help you can get.”

Jace sighed deeply, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “Fine. Whatever. When do I meet this... Y/N?”

Professor Arryn checked her watch. “Actually, right now. She’s waiting outside.”

Jace’s eyes widened. “Wait—what?”

The door creaked open, and there she was—Y/N L/N, standing just outside with an expression that could only be described as skeptical. Her hair was up in a bun, a few stray strands escaping around her face, and she was clutching a notebook like it was a lifeline. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked over Jace briefly before settling on Professor Arryn.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?” she asked, her voice low and even.

Jace couldn’t help but smirk. Oh, this was going to be interesting.

Professor Arryn gestured for Y/N to enter. “Y/N, this is Jacaerys Velaryon, your new study partner.”

Y/N’s lips quirked ever so slightly, but she quickly schooled her features back into a neutral expression. “Oh,” she said. “Lucky me.”

Jace chuckled, leaning back in his chair again, arms spreading out as if he owned the room. “The pleasure’s all mine, love,” he drawled, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Looking forward to all those late-night study sessions... with your cat, of course.”

Y/N’s gaze was flat, unimpressed. “Yeah, don’t get your hopes up. This isn’t a charity case. If you want my help, you’ll have to actually put in the work.”

Jace blinked, caught off guard. “Right,” he said slowly, recovering with a grin. “Fair enough. Let’s start with the basics, then… What’s a ‘War of the Roses,’ anyway?”

Y/N let out a soft sigh, clearly unamused. “We have a lot of work to do.”

Professor Arryn watched the exchange, a satisfied glint in her eye. “I think this partnership will be good for both of you,” she said. “And remember, Velaryon, this is your last chance to prove yourself. Don’t blow it.”

Jace glanced at Y/N, who was already walking towards the door, her back straight and her expression unreadable. He scrambled to his feet, hurrying after her. “Oi, wait up!” he called, trying to catch her.

Y/N paused, turning slightly, her eyebrow arched. “First rule,” she said calmly. “Don’t call me ‘love.’”

Jace grinned, loving the challenge already. “Alright… Y/N,” he replied, putting on his most charming smile. “Shall we?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was the slightest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she muttered, “Let’s get this over with.”

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“Look, we can start with some basic texts,” Y/N said, flipping open her notebook and scribbling something down with a quick, practiced hand. She barely spared Jace a glance as they walked down the narrow cobblestone path, her steps purposeful and brisk. “Seeley Historical Library has the best collection on late medieval England. I figure we’ll start there. I know a few—”

“Wait,” Jace interrupted, his tone incredulous. “You want to start now? Like, right this second?”

“Yes,” Y/N replied, not breaking her stride. “Because it’s clear you know absolutely nothing about the War of the Roses, and I’m not about to waste my time with some half-baked attempt at a history paper. We’re going to the library.”

Jace groaned, dragging a hand through his tousled dark curls. “Oh, come on, love—”

She shot him a sharp look.

“—Sorry, Y/N. Can’t we at least get a coffee first? I haven’t even had my caffeine fix yet, and you’re already dragging me to some dusty library.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “No time for coffee. We have a lot of ground to cover, and I’m not about to let you turn this into some kind of social hour. The library, now.”

Jace huffed but kept pace with her. “You’re a hard-ass, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’ve been told.” She replied dryly.

They turned a corner, and Jace caught sight of the courtyard just ahead—a familiar patch of green surrounded by old brick buildings, where his mates were kicking a ball around. His gang—Cregan Stark, Oscar Tully, Aegon Targaryen, and Davos Blackwood—were all there, clad in their team jerseys and shouting insults at one another.

Aegon, spotting Jace first, smirked and jogged over, his bleach-blonde hair glinting in the sunlight. “Oi, Captain!” he called out, voice booming across the courtyard. “Where the hell you think you’re going?”

Cregan and Oscar followed, both looking amused. Cregan, tall and broad-shouldered, clapped a hand on Jace’s back as he got closer. “We’ve got practice in five, mate. What’s this? Thought you were allergic to books,” he teased, nodding towards the notebook Y/N clutched like a weapon.

“Yeah, I thought the only paper you touched was hundred-pound notes,” Oscar added with a grin.

Jace gave a sheepish grin, throwing a thumb in Y/N’s direction. “Meet my new study partner,” he announced, his tone half-mocking, half-serious. “Apparently, she thinks I need to learn a thing or two about the ‘War of the Roses.’”

Davos snorted, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, you’re gonna learn what war is if you don’t show up for practice, Captain. Coach is already pissed.”

Y/N, standing a step back, folded her arms across her chest, her patience visibly thinning. “I’m sorry,” she interjected, her voice cutting through their banter like a knife, “but Jace and I have actual work to do. Unlike whatever this is.” She waved a dismissive hand at the football pitch behind them.

Aegon let out a low whistle, eyeing Y/N with mock admiration. “Feisty one, isn’t she?”

Jace chuckled, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, Y/N, they’re right. We do have practice—”

“Don’t care,” she cut him off sharply. “We’re going to the library, and you’re coming with me. You can play your little game later.”

Cregan laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. “Your little game? Oi, Jace, I think she just called football a ‘little game.’”

Jace shot a pleading look at Y/N, but she remained resolute, chin tilted up defiantly. “This isn’t optional, Velaryon,” she stated flatly. “You can skip practice once. It’s not going to kill you.”

“Actually, it might,” Oscar quipped, elbowing Jace. “Coach’ll string you up by your own bootlaces.”

Jace hesitated, caught between the demand in Y/N’s eyes and the expectant gazes of his teammates. “Come on, Y/N,” he said, trying to sound reasonable. “Just one hour? I’ll be right there at the library after.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, clearly irritated. “Fine,” she muttered, “One hour, Jace. But if you’re not at Seeley, I’m done with this, and you can flunk out on your own.”

Jace grinned, sensing a small victory. “Deal.”

With that, she turned on her heel and strode off toward the library, leaving Jace standing there.

Aegon nudged Jace with a sly grin. “Mate, you’re in deep with that one.”

Jace shrugged, his grin widening. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

Then, he jogged toward the pitch, already plotting how to charm his way out of trouble.

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The sun was setting over Cambridge, casting a warm, golden glow over the courtyard where Jace and his gang were sprawled out on the grass, panting and laughing, still high from the adrenaline of practice. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and freshly cut grass. Jace gulped down his energy gel, feeling the rush of artificial citrus flavor burst in his mouth. Aegon, leaning back on his elbows, was grinning like a Cheshire cat, clearly up to something.

“So,” Aegon started, with that telltale smirk plastered across his face, “what’s the deal with your new study buddy, Jace? This… Y/N?”

Jace shrugged, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Nothing much. Just some girl Professor Arryn stuck me with to make sure I don’t bomb this paper. Proper bookworm, you know?”

Davos, lying flat on his back and squinting up at the sky, chuckled. “Yeah, heard she’s one of those types. Always in the library, never out for a drink. Bit boring, if you ask me.”

Aegon’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Boring, eh? Anyone know anything interesting about her?”

Oscar, sitting cross-legged, shook his head. “Nah, mate. She’s just… normal. Doesn’t bother with us, and we don’t bother with her. Mundane as they come.”

Aegon scoffed. “Mundane, my arse. There’s always something, yeah? Everyone’s got a secret.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing some great forbidden knowledge. “I heard she’s still a virgin.”

Davos snorted, nearly choking on his water. “No way. At Cambridge? The land of drunken hookups and bad decisions?”

Aegon nodded, his eyes fixed on Jace. “Yup. Pure as the driven snow, they say. Bet she’s never even been kissed.”

Jace laughed, but it was more out of surprise than anything else. “What’s that got to do with me?”

Aegon’s smirk turned devilish. “Just saying, mate. You’ve charmed the pants off half the girls in this place. Why not try the one that’s got everyone else stumped?”

Davos caught on, grinning widely. “Yeah, Jace, bet you can’t even get her to look at you twice, let alone… you know.”

Jace raised an eyebrow. “You’re seriously betting I can’t get Y/N L/N to…?”

“To shag you,” Aegon finished, laughing. “That’s the bet. Get in her knickers, mate. Come on, it’ll be a laugh.”

Cregan, who had been sitting quietly, frowned, his brow furrowing in disapproval. “This is a bad idea,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Messing around with someone like that… it’s not right, Jace.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’m with Cregan on this one. It’s one thing to have a bit of fun, but this… it’s different. She’s not one of your usual types. You could really hurt her.”

Jace felt a strange flicker of something in his chest—a mix of guilt, curiosity, and… excitement. He brushed it off, shrugging casually. “Come on, boys. It’s not like that. Just a bit of fun, yeah? Nothing serious.”

Aegon leaned forward, eyes glinting with amusement. “So, are you in or not? Hundred pounds says you can’t do it. That’s what, a week’s worth of drinks and cigs for you?”

Jace hesitated for a moment, thinking of Y/N’s determined glare, her sharp wit, the way she didn’t give a damn about him or his reputation. She was different. Uncharted territory. A challenge.

He smirked. “Alright, you’re on,” he said, hearing the cheers and groans from the lads around him.

Cregan shook his head, already looking like he regretted being a part of this conversation. “This isn’t going to end well, Jace. I’m telling you.”

Oscar sighed. “I don’t approve, mate. But… you’ve never been one to listen anyway.”

Jace just laughed, but there was an edge to it, a thrill of something dangerous. “You all worry too much. I’ve got this.”

As they all started to pack up, heading off in different directions, Jace couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just stepped onto a very slippery slope.

He had an hour to make it to the library. And now, he had a new game to play.

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The small study hall in Y/N’s dorm was quiet except for the faint hum of the ancient radiator and the occasional rustling of paper. The place was cozy, with mismatched chairs and a long, scratched-up wooden table in the middle that looked like it had seen better days. A soft yellow light flickered overhead, casting a warm glow that made everything feel just a bit more intimate than Jace was used to.

Y/N sat across from him, her head buried in yet another thick textbook, her glasses sliding down her nose in that way they always did when she was deep in concentration. Her cat, Tabby, was sprawled out next to her, purring loudly, its fat tail flicking every so often. Jace watched the cat with a wry smile, the can of wet food hidden in his backpack, ready for his next move.

He had to admit, these study sessions weren’t exactly torture. Sure, he’d rather be out with the lads, downing pints at the pub or kicking a ball around, but there was something oddly… nice about the routine they’d developed over the last two weeks. Y/N was sharp, with a sarcastic wit that he’d quickly learned to appreciate. She didn’t laugh at his jokes, didn’t fawn over his every word, and wasn’t afraid to call him out when he was being a lazy git.

And yeah, maybe that made him want to impress her just a little bit.

Tonight, though, he had a plan. He set his textbook aside with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “So,” he started, his tone casual, “I think I’ve got the gist of this whole War of the Roses thing now. The Yorks, the Lancasters, the whole shebang.”

Y/N glanced up, pushing her glasses back up her nose. “Oh, really?” she said, her tone dripping with skepticism. “Let’s hear it then. Enlighten me, Velaryon.”

Jace grinned, ready for the challenge. “Alright, so it’s like this: Basically, you’ve got two families—Yorks and Lancasters, right? Both got a claim to the throne, both think they’re the shit. Lots of battles, lots of blood, lots of people getting their heads chopped off. The Lancasters start off strong, but then the Yorks take over for a bit with Edward IV, right?”

Y/N nodded, her expression almost… impressed. “Okay, so far, so good.”

“Then Edward’s brother, Richard III, the shady bastard, knocks off his own nephews, or so they say—”

“They were never found,” Y/N interjected, raising a finger. “It’s just a theory.”

“Right, right, allegedly,” Jace corrected himself, rolling his eyes, “Anyway, then Henry Tudor comes in, wipes the floor with Richard at Bosworth, and boom, new king. Tudor dynasty kicks off. End of the Wars of the Roses.”

Y/N tilted her head, a small, amused smile playing at her lips. “Not bad, Jace. Not bad at all. Maybe you’re not as hopeless as I thought.”

Jace chuckled, leaning in a little closer, letting his voice drop. “See? I’m full of surprises.” He reached into his bag and pulled out the can of wet cat food, holding it up like a trophy. “And speaking of surprises… look what I brought for our furry study buddy.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard, and then she laughed—a soft, genuine laugh that Jace hadn’t heard before. “Seriously? You brought food for Tabby?”

Jace grinned. “Figured it might earn me a few points. Besides, I’m starting to think she’s the one actually running this show.”

Tabby’s ears perked up at the sound of the can, and Y/N shook her head, amused. “You know, you didn’t have to do that. But… it’s sweet. Thanks.”

He shrugged, feeling a strange, warm twist in his chest at her reaction. “No big deal. Besides, I’m trying to stay in your good graces here, remember?”

Y/N gave him a sly look. “Oh, is that what this is? Buttering me up? This is bribery.”

Jace laughed, leaning back. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like spending time with you, even if you do make me memorize the most boring shit ever written.”

She smiled, a real one this time, and he felt something shift in the air between them, something that made his heart pick up a little faster. “History isn’t boring, Jace,” she corrected, but there was no bite to her tone, only a soft fondness. “You just have to find the right angle.”

He watched her for a moment, taking in the way her eyes sparkled behind her glasses, the way a loose strand of hair fell across her cheek. “Maybe,” he said quietly, “you can help me find it.”

For a moment, they were just there, sitting in the soft light, with Tabby purring between them. And for the first time in a long time, Jace didn’t feel like he needed to be anywhere else.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “tell me more about this Henry Tudor bloke. Sounds like a bit of a legend.”

Y/N laughed again, and Jace realized he could get used to that sound. “Oh, he was. But not in the way you think.”

And as she launched into a passionate explanation, Jace found himself leaning in, genuinely listening, genuinely interested. Maybe it was because of her, or maybe… just maybe, it was something else altogether.

Jace then pulled his laptop out of his bag, its surface covered in stickers from random pubs, indie bands, and some meme that Y/N didn’t quite get. He flipped it open and tapped the trackpad a few times before turning the screen toward Y/N. “Alright, don’t judge me too harshly,” he said, flashing her a grin that was equal parts sheepish and cocky. “I’ve got about fifteen hundred words down.”

Y/N took the laptop, eyebrows arching as she began to read. Her expression shifted quickly—from neutral to slightly amused, and then to something bordering on exasperated. “Jace… this reads like a bloody blog post,” she muttered, her tone half a scold, half a laugh. “I mean, really? ‘York versus Lancaster: The Original Family Feud?’”

Jace chuckled, leaning back in his chair, hands resting behind his head. “Hey, I’m just trying to keep it interesting. No one wants to read a paper full of dry academic crap.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “This isn’t about being interesting, it’s about being accurate and precise. You’re supposed to be writing a serious outline, not an article for BuzzFeed.”

He raised his hands defensively. “Alright, alright, fair point. But can you blame me? I’m trying not to fall asleep while I write this thing. I figure, if it’s fun for me, maybe it’ll be fun for whoever ends up grading it.”

Y/N shook her head, though there was a softness to her expression that Jace couldn’t ignore. “That’s… not how it works. But I’ll help you refine it. You’ve got the right ideas, just not the right… execution.”

“Story of my life,” Jace muttered, and for a moment, his grin faltered. He quickly recovered, though, leaning forward to take the laptop back. “Seriously, though, I appreciate it. I know I’m a bit of a lost cause when it comes to this stuff.”

“You’re not a lost cause,” Y/N said, surprising even herself. “Just… a bit misguided. But you’re trying, and that counts for something.”

Jace smiled, feeling that strange twist in his chest again. “Trying, yeah. I’ve got my reasons. If I don’t pass this paper, my mum’s going to cut me off. And trust me, you don’t want to be around when that happens.”

Y/N looked up, curious. “Your mum… she’s Rhaenyra Targaryen, right? The one who’s always in those society pages?”

Jace nodded, leaning back in his chair again. “That’s the one. Everyone thinks she’s this glamorous socialite, but she’s tough as nails. Proper iron lady, you know? It’s always Jacaerys, do this or Jacaerys, don’t embarrass the family. She’s got this whole plan for me, for my brother Luke, for everyone. She’d have me running for Parliament if she could.”

Y/N listened, her face softening. “That sounds… intense.”

Jace laughed. “You’ve no idea. Luke—my little brother, he’s at Eton right now, the little shit—is the golden boy. Mum dotes on him like he’s the second coming or something. He’ll be here at Cambridge next year, probably ace every exam and make me look even worse by comparison.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his grin turning a little wry. “Between you and me, Luke’s the smart one. Reads all the time, top of his class, the whole package. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to stay on the pitch and out of trouble.”

Y/N smiled a bit. “I doubt that’s all you are. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have something going for you.”

Jace shrugged, playing it off, but her words struck a chord. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just because Mum and Grandfather have their names on a few buildings around here.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, but her eyes held a glimmer of understanding. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be here. It just means you have to work a little harder to prove that to everyone else.”

Jace looked at her, caught off guard by the sincerity in her tone. “You really think that?”

Y/N nodded, her expression steady. “I do. I mean, you’re lazy as hell, sure, but you’re not dumb. You just need to find something that makes you want to try.”

Jace felt a flush rise in his cheeks, unexpected and a little confusing. “Yeah, well, maybe I’ve found something,” he muttered, looking away.

Tabby, sensing the change in the atmosphere, stretched out on Jace’s lap and yawned loudly, demanding attention. Jace chuckled, reaching down to scratch the cat’s ears. “You’ve got a good taste in cats, at least,” he said, grinning.

Y/N leaned back, watching Jace with a look he couldn’t quite place. “Tabby seems to like you,” she said softly, a hint of surprise in her voice. “That’s… unusual. She doesn’t usually take to strangers.”

“Maybe I’m not as much of a stranger anymore,” Jace said, looking up to meet her gaze.

Y/N’s eyes lingered on his for a moment longer than he expected, and something passed between them, something warm and tentative. She quickly looked back down at her notebook, clearing her throat. “Alright,” she said, shifting gears. “Let’s get back to work. This ‘original family feud’ bit needs to go.”

Jace laughed, pulling his laptop back toward him. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, boss.”

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Two more weeks of grueling late-night study sessions, endless cups of coffee, and Y/N’s relentless revisions had finally paid off. Jace’s paper was finished. No, more than finished—it was actually good. Even Y/N had begrudgingly admitted it was up to her usual standards, which, coming from her, was high praise indeed.

Jace couldn’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction when he handed the paper to Professor Arryn that morning. He watched her face closely as she skimmed through the first few pages, her eyebrows slowly rising with what he hoped was approval. When she finally looked up, there was a rare, pleased smile on her face.

“Well done, Jacaerys,” she said, her tone warm. “This is… quite an improvement. I’m impressed.”

Jace grinned, feeling a surprising swell of pride. “Thanks, Professor. Guess I had a good teacher.”

Professor Arryn chuckled softly. “Yes, well, I’ll have to thank Miss L/N for her patience later. But I’m glad to see you’ve taken this seriously. Keep it up. You’ve got more potential than you think.”

Jace nodded, and as he left her office, he couldn’t shake the grin off his face. He had done it. They had done it. And he couldn’t deny the thrill he felt knowing he’d actually managed to prove everyone wrong for once.

Later that afternoon, he found himself wandering through the winding pathways of the campus, searching for Y/N. He finally spotted her by the fountain in the courtyard, sitting on a bench.

He sauntered over, casually leaning against the side of the bench. “Oi, bookworm,” he greeted, flashing her that grin he knew usually worked on most people. “Guess what?”

Y/N looked up, mildly surprised, but a small smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t know. You found another typo in your own name?”

Jace laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, better. Professor Arryn loved the paper. Said she was impressed.”

Y/N’s eyes brightened a little. “Really? Well… that’s good. I mean, not surprising, considering all the work we put into it. But still… good to hear.”

“Yeah,” Jace nodded, feeling a surge of excitement he hadn’t expected. “And I figured, you know, since it’s the weekend and all, we should celebrate. There’s a pub just off campus that does the best chicken wings. Thought you might fancy a night out?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, um, I don’t usually go to pubs,” she started, fidgeting slightly. “Not really my scene.”

Jace wasn’t deterred. He leaned in a bit closer, his voice dropping to that smooth, persuasive tone he knew could win over even the most stubborn people. “Come on, Y/N. It’s just a drink, some wings, a bit of fun. You’ve earned it. Besides,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I know you’re obsessed with chicken wings. And trust me, this place makes them mean.”

Y/N’s mouth twitched like she was trying to hide a smile. “How do you even know that?”

Jace shrugged, pretending to be innocent. “Just a guess. But seriously, you can’t turn down an offer like this. I’m buying, and I promise not to make you read any history books while we’re there. Think of it as… a reward for your hard work.”

She hesitated for a moment, but the look in his eyes was so genuinely hopeful, so damn persistent, that she found herself softening. “Alright,” she sighed finally, a small smile breaking through. “But just this once. And only because you said there’d be good wings.”

Jace’s grin widened. “Deal. I’ll pick you up at six?”

Y/N nodded, still looking a bit skeptical, but there was a flicker of excitement in her eyes that she couldn’t quite hide. “Six it is. But if it turns out to be one of those rowdy pubs with sticky floors and bad beer, I’m leaving.”

Jace laughed. “Trust me, Y/N, I’ve got taste. You won’t regret it.”

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“Tonight’s the night, mate. The night you finally conquer the wallflower,” Aegon declared, sprawled out on Jace’s bed with a grin wide enough to split his face in half. He was already two beers in, and his enthusiasm was rising with every sip. “I mean, come on, you’ve done all the groundwork. You’ve got her thinking you’re some misunderstood genius or whatever. It’s bloody perfect.”

Jace rolled his eyes, tugging a fresh shirt over his head. “Piss off, Aeg, you make it sound like I’m storming a castle. It’s just a drink, alright?”

“A drink?” Aegon snorted, sitting up with exaggerated incredulity. “No, no, my friend. This is a tactical maneuver. A carefully orchestrated operation. You’ve been planting the seeds, and tonight… you reap the harvest.”

Davos, leaning against the doorframe with a lazy smile, added, “Yeah, Jace, think of it like one of those battles you’ve been studying. Except instead of swords and armor, you’ve got charm and… chicken wings.”

Jace shook his head, but he couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. “You lot are ridiculous. It’s not that deep, alright? It’s just… it’s been fun hanging out with her. She’s different.”

“Different?” Cregan scoffed from where he sat at Jace’s desk, fiddling with a random keychain. “Different how? Like, ‘actually has a brain’ different? Or ‘won’t fall for your bullshit’ different?”

“Both,” Jace admitted, smoothing his shirt and checking himself in the mirror. “She’s… she’s not like the usual girls, yeah? Makes me work for it. And maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

Oscar, who’d been mindlessly strumming Jace’s guitar, looked up and smirked. “Wow, you’re going soft, Jacaerys Velaryon. Next thing we know, you’ll be quoting poetry or some shit.”

Aegon laughed loudly. “Nah, he’s too thick for poetry. But don’t lose focus, Jace. Remember the bet. She’s a challenge, yeah, but you’re the bloody captain. You don’t lose.”

Jace turned to Aegon, a hint of irritation in his voice. “I know what I’m doing, alright? I don’t need you lot in my head.”

Davos chuckled, raising a hand in mock surrender. “Fair enough, fair enough. Just don’t forget why you’re doing this. I’d hate to see all your hard work go to waste.”

Jace paused, looking at his reflection, and for a second, the bravado slipped. Why was he doing this? Was it really still just about the bet, or was there something more?

He shook the thought away and turned back to his friends. “I’m not losing,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “And tonight, I’ll prove it.”

Aegon raised his beer in a mock toast. “To Jace, the knight in shining armor, off to slay the virgin dragon.”

Jace flipped him off, but he couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Wish me luck, you pricks. I’m off.”

He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in his chest.

Jace arrived at Y/N’s dorm at exactly 5:50, which was impressive by his own standards. Usually, he didn’t bother even showing up on time with his usual rotation of girls. Hell, half of them wouldn’t mind if he rolled in an hour late, two hours, even three—they’d still fall over themselves to be near him, giggling and batting their lashes, ready to jump him at the first opportunity.

But tonight was different. He didn’t want to be late, didn’t want to give her any reason to back out. So he was there early, leaning against the doorframe, tapping his foot to an imaginary beat in his head.

When Y/N finally opened the door, she looked a bit startled, clearly on her way out herself. Her eyes widened when she saw him standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Jace?” she said, blinking. “You’re… early.”

He grinned. “Yeah, thought I’d mix things up a bit. You know, keep you on your toes.”

Y/N folded her arms, a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, color me surprised. You don’t strike me as the punctual type.”

Jace laughed and shrugged. “Usually not, but I figured you’d appreciate it. And besides, I’ve been looking forward to those chicken wings all day.”

Y/N shook her head, still looking amused. “Of course, it’s the chicken wings,” she muttered, locking her door behind her. “Alright then, let’s go.”

They started walking together down the winding path that led from the dorms to the main road. The evening air was cool, and the streetlights were just beginning to flicker on, casting long shadows along the cobblestones. Jace lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face in the dim light.

“So,” he began, making small talk, “aside from being an academic weapon and the loyal servant of Tabby the Cat, what else do you get up to?”

Y/N smirked at his choice of words. “Oh, you know, world domination, the usual.”

Jace chuckled. “Seriously, though. What do you do when you’re not buried in books?”

She shrugged, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. “I volunteer at a local shelter. Animal rescue, mostly.”

Jace raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. “Yeah? That’s pretty cool. What made you get into that?”

Y/N glanced at him, surprised he seemed to care. “I’ve always liked animals. And I figured, if I’m going to be stressed about everything else in life, I might as well do something good with my time. Plus, it’s kind of hard to worry about exams when you’re busy trying to get a terrified dog out from under a car.”

Jace laughed, a deep, genuine sound. “That does sound like a bit of a distraction.”

She smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah, it’s… it’s good. Keeps me grounded, you know?”

He took another drag of his cigarette, considering her words. “Makes sense. I guess we all need something like that.”

Y/N looked at him curiously. “What about you? What keeps you grounded?”

Jace hesitated, the question catching him off guard. He hadn’t really thought about it like that. “Football, I suppose,” he answered finally, a bit more seriously than he intended. “It’s the one thing that makes sense, you know? When I’m out there, everything else just… fades away.”

She nodded, understanding. “Yeah, I get that. Everyone needs a release.”

They walked in companionable silence for a moment, the sounds of the city around them filling the spaces between their words. Jace felt a strange calm settle over him, a sense that he didn’t have to perform or play a role.

As they neared the pub, the warm glow of its lights spilling out onto the street, Jace flicked his cigarette to the side, stubbing it out with his foot. “Here we are,” he said, holding the door open for her. “Prepare yourself for the best damn chicken wings in Cambridge.”

Y/N laughed, a sound that made him all warm inside. “Alright, Velaryon, I’ll be the judge of that.”

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In wine, there is truth, they say. But in beer? Well, in beer, there’s a hell of a lot of bad decisions.

Jace hadn’t expected Y/N to get drunk off a few pints. Hell, he’d forgotten what it was like to be around someone who wasn’t a seasoned drinker, someone whose idea of a wild night wasn’t pounding shots until the room spun. He was used to heavyweights—Cregan downing vodka like water, Aegon always pushing the limits, the lot of them living on a constant edge between buzzed and blackout.

But Y/N? Three pints in, and she’d gone from reserved and witty to giggling mess, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright, and—most dangerously—her hands a bit too free with him.

It was around ten when he realized she’d crossed the line from tipsy to drunk. She stumbled as they stepped outside the pub, the cool night air hitting her like a slap. Jace instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her, and she leaned into him, her head tipping against his shoulder, a small, sleepy smile on her lips.

“Y’alright?” he asked, feeling a mix of amusement and something else, something warmer, spreading through his chest. Full of denial, he made himself believe it was because of the alcohol.

“Mm, yeah,” she mumbled, her voice slightly slurred. “Just… didn’t realize how strong those beers were.”

Jace chuckled. “Lightweight,” he teased, but there was no bite to it, just an unexpected tenderness.

Aegon’s words rang in his head like a bell. Tonight’s the night. She’s a challenge, yeah, but you’re the bloody captain. You don’t lose.

It would be so easy. She was already leaning into him, her fingers curling into his jacket, her body soft and pliant against his. She looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded and dreamy, and he felt his resolve waver.

“My place?” he heard himself say, the words slipping out before he could stop them, and he cursed himself immediately.

But then she nodded, a small, trusting smile spreading across her lips. “Okay,” she agreed softly, and he felt something dark and selfish twist in his gut. Fuck.

He wrapped his arm tighter around her, supporting her as they started walking. His dorm was closer anyway, and she was so warm against him, so… trusting. He felt the tension building in him, the battle between the guy he was supposed to be and the guy he wanted to be.

As they walked, she kept giggling, saying things he couldn’t quite make out, her hands playing with the zipper of his jacket, her breath hot against his neck. “You’re not so bad, Jace,” she murmured at one point, and he felt a pang in his chest, a mix of guilt and something else. “I think… I think you’re actually kinda sweet.”

Jace swallowed hard, his mouth dry. “Yeah, well… don’t go telling anyone that,” he joked, trying to keep his tone light, even as his mind raced.

They reached his dorm, and he fumbled with the key, feeling her sway beside him, her fingers brushing his arm. “Here we are,” he muttered, pushing the door open.

She stumbled inside, giggling again, and he caught her by the waist, steadying her. She turned in his arms, looking up at him, her expression soft and open. “Thanks,” she whispered. “For tonight. I had fun.”

Jace stared down at her, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he could do it—he could lean down, close the gap, and she wouldn’t push him away. She’d let him, she’d probably kiss him back, and it’d be the easiest thing in the world.

But something held him back. Something in the way she looked at him, her eyes so trusting, so… innocent. It made him feel like the biggest prick on earth.

He felt Aegon’s taunting voice in his head, heard Davos’s laugh, remembered the bet, the stupid bloody bet. And he hated himself in that moment, hated the way he’d played this, hated the way he was tempted.

“Come on,” he said softly, steering her toward the bed. “You need to lie down.”

Y/N giggled, collapsing onto the mattress. “Oh, is that an invitation, Velaryon?” she teased, her voice light, her eyes half-closed.

Jace forced a laugh, trying to keep his hands from shaking. “Nah, just… making sure you’re comfortable,” he said, pulling a blanket over her.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his heart thundering in his chest as he tried to get his bearings. This wasn’t how he’d planned for tonight to go—he wasn’t sure what he’d planned, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. Not sitting here, feeling like the floor had dropped out from under him while Y/N lay there, soft and warm and too damn close.

He was about to stand up, to put some distance between them before he did something stupid, when he felt her fingers brush against his cheek, tentative and light. Her touch sent a spark skittering down his spine, and he froze.

“I never noticed your freckles before,” she murmured, her voice slurred. “They’re… cute.”

Jace’s breath hitched, and his focus, which had been hanging by a thread, snapped completely. He’d lost it five minutes ago, maybe longer, the second she’d started touching him, the second she’d looked at him with those eyes, her lips all plump and pink from the spicy wings earlier.

He was staring at her lips now, unable to look away. They were wet and inviting, and he could almost taste the beer and the traces of spice on them, feel the warmth of her breath. His mind was racing, and his body… shit, his body was reacting like he’d never had a woman over before.

Y/N caught him staring, and she let out a soft, self-conscious laugh. “I must be a mess, huh?” she said, her voice laced with uncertainty. “I mean… I’m definitely a downgrade from all the women who’ve graced your room and this bed before.”

Jace’s heart stuttered, guilt and desire twisting together in his chest like a vice. She had no idea, did she? No clue about the bet, about the way his friends had egged him on, made this into some twisted game. She was here, vulnerable, open, looking at him like he was something more than a stupid, privileged jerk who could charm his way into anything.

His body continues warring with him, every muscle taut, every nerve alive with want. He knew damn well that under his bed, there were probably scraps of lingerie and thongs left over by fuck knows who, little trophies of past conquests, forgotten in the haze of nights he could barely remember.

But this? This was different. This was real. And he felt like he was on his very last string, the tightrope fraying beneath his feet.

Then, in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, she asked, “Will you kiss me?”

Jace’s brain screamed at him to stop, to decline, to be a better man than he usually was, but the words caught in his throat. Y/N was looking at him, all hot and bothered, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted, and he could see the longing in her eyes, the same need he felt thrumming through his veins.

“Y/N…” he managed, his voice hoarse, strained. “You’re drunk, and I… I don’t want to—”

But she leaned closer, her breath warm against his lips, her fingers still resting on his cheek. “Please, Jace,” she whispered, her voice pleading, “just kiss me.”

And fuck, he tried. He really tried to hold back, to keep the distance, to be the decent guy he’d been pretending to be for the last few weeks. But the way she looked at him, like he was something she needed, something she wanted, something more than a mistake…

He was gone. Completely and utterly gone.

He closed the distance between them in one swift movement, his hand cupping her jaw, his lips crashing against hers. The kiss was rough, desperate, all the tension of the last few weeks pouring out in one fierce, needy snog. He groaned, pulling her closer, his fingers tangling in her hair.

Y/N responded immediately, kissing him back with equal enthusiasm, her hands clutching his shirt, pulling him closer, pressing herself against him. He felt her body arch into his, and he couldn’t help but deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting her, losing himself in the heat of it, in the softness of her lips.

He knew he should stop, knew he was crossing a line he had no right to, but he couldn't think clearly anymore, couldn't focus on anything except the feel of her against him, the taste of her lips, the way she was kissing him with so much need. He could tell she hadn’t done this much before—her movements were uncertain, a bit clumsy—but none of that mattered now.

Jace’s mind was spinning, his breath coming in ragged as he broke the kiss and gently pushed her back, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice unsteady. “Y/N… have you done this before?”

She blinked up at him, her eyes hazy but honest. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, like she was admitting a secret she wasn’t sure she wanted to share.

His heart lurched at that. He cursed under his breath, his hands still on her shoulders, holding her at a careful distance. “We should stop,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I don’t want you to be angry with me… or yourself, come morning.”

Y/N shook her head, her fingers sliding up his arms, stubborn as ever. “I won’t be,” she insisted, her voice firmer now, a determined edge to it. “I know what I want, Jace.”

He felt a shiver run down his spine, but he fought against it, trying to hold on to his last shred of self-control. “You’re drunk,” he murmured, “and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

But she was already leaning in again, pressing closer, her lips grazing his neck, right where she knew his pulse was pounding. “I’m not that drunk,” she whispered against his skin, her breath hot, sending a jolt through his entire body. “And I want this… I want you.”

Her mouth moved over his neck, by sheer luck finding a soft spot just below his ear, and he felt a groan rise in his throat, his body betraying him completely. Her lips were gentle but insistent, kissing the spot where she could feel his pulse racing, and he felt his resolve slipping, melting under the warmth of her touch.

“Y/N,” he breathed, trying to keep his voice steady, but it was hopeless. Every time her lips brushed his skin, he felt like he was losing another piece of himself. “We really shouldn’t—”

But she wasn’t listening, her hands moving up his chest, her lips still at his neck, kissing and nipping, her touch sending sparks all through him. She was so damn stubborn, and it was driving him wild, his hands gripping her waist as if to anchor himself.

“Please, Jace,” she whispered again, her voice a breathy plea against his skin, and he felt something in him snap. For a moment, he hovered on the edge, caught between his desire and his conscience, every nerve screaming at him to just give in, to take what she was so freely offering.

But then he saw her eyes, the way they were wide and unguarded, and he remembered her earlier words, the soft confession—no, she hadn’t done this before. She was drunk, not in her right mind, and damn it all, he knew he wasn’t either.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. For once in his life, he chose to be the bigger person, to do the right thing, even though every part of him was screaming to just lose himself in her. There was no way in hell he was going to go all the way with her—not like this, not when she was a virgin and not when they both were just a little too far gone.

But he also wasn’t going to just leave her wanting, not when he could see the need in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, feel the way her body was pressed up against his, warm and willing. He could give her something, at least. And that was a thought that sent a rush of heat through him, a decision settling deep in his bones.

Jace let out a slow, shaky breath, his hands sliding down her sides. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. “Not everything… but I can still make you feel good. Really good.”

She blinked up at him, confusion and desire mixing in her eyes. “What do you—”

He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he gently pushed her back onto the bed, his lips brushing against her jaw, trailing down her neck. He felt her breath hitch, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved lower, kissing down her collarbone, his hands sliding under her shirt, lifting it just enough to reveal her skin.

He looked up at her once more, his gaze intense. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Y/N,” he promised, his voice rough with need. “Just trust me.”

And then he was lowering himself between her thighs, hands gently spreading her legs, his breath warm against her skin. He kissed her inner thigh, his fingers teasing at the edge of her panties, and he felt her shiver beneath him, her breath coming faster, her eyes wide with anticipation.

He knew this was something he was good at—something he had honed to perfection over the years. Someone should really give him a degree for it, a bloody medal for his services to women. Because if there was one thing Jace Velaryon knew how to do, it was this.

He slipped her panties down slowly, savoring the way her breath hitched, the way she tensed in anticipation. He spread her legs a bit wider, his hands gripping her thighs firmly, and he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste her. The first touch was gentle, almost tentative, and he felt her gasp, her hips arching off the bed.

Jace grinned against her skin, a low, satisfied hum rumbling in his chest. “Just relax,” he whispered, his breath hot against her, “and let me take care of you.”

He set to work, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes, teasing her, tasting her, finding every sensitive spot and lingering there until she was gasping, her hands clutching his sheets, her head thrown back in pleasure. He ignored his own growing need, focused entirely on her, on the way her body responded to him, the way she trembled under his touch.

He sucked gently, his tongue swirling over her clit, his hands gripping her thighs tighter, feeling the tension building in her, the way her breaths were coming faster, more desperate. She was close—he could feel it, could hear it in the way she moaned his name, her voice breathless and needy.

He kept going, picking up the pace, his tongue moving faster, more insistent, his fingers joining in, stroking her in rhythm with his mouth. She was writhing now, her hips moving against him, her moans turning into cries, her fingers twisting in his hair, holding him closer.

“Jace,” she gasped, her voice breaking, “Oh, gods, Jace—”

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down. He kept up the relentless rhythm, his mouth working her with a skill perfected by experience, by knowing exactly how to drive a woman to the edge and hold her there until she was begging for release. His fingers moved in motion with his tongue, pressing deeper, finding that perfect spot inside her, feeling the way her body clenched around him, her thighs quivering under his hands.

Y/N was a mess above him, her breaths coming out in broken gasps, her body arching off the bed, every muscle tense, straining toward that peak. Her moans were getting louder, more frantic, her nails digging into his scalp, pulling him closer.

She was so close—he could feel it in the way her hips bucked against him, the way she was practically chanting his name now, over and over, like a prayer, like a plea.

And then, with a final swirl of his tongue, a firm press of his fingers, she shattered.

Her orgasm ripped through her, a wave of pleasure so intense it stole her breath, her cry breaking into a sob, her entire body shaking with it. Jace kept his mouth on her, coaxing her through it, feeling the rush of her release, the way she came apart beneath him, raw and real and beautiful.

He didn’t stop until he felt the tremors subside, until her hands loosened in his hair, her body going limp, spent and sated. Only then did he pull back, kissing her inner thigh softly before moving up the bed to lie beside her, his breathing ragged, his own body still tight with need he chose to ignore.

Y/N lay there, her chest rising and falling, her eyes still closed, a dazed smile playing on her lips. She turned her head to look at him, her gaze soft and filled with something he couldn’t quite name.

“That was…” she breathed, her voice still a little shaky, “that was...”

Jace smirked, his thumb lazily tracing her cheek. “Mind-blowing? Legendary? Best damn thing you’ve ever had?” he teased, his voice thick with cheeky arrogance. “Told you I’d make it worth your while.”

Y/N slapped him playfully on the chest, her eyes still feel heavy with the afterglow, but a grin tugging at her lips. “Yeah, yeah,” she laughed, her voice a mix of sarcasm and lingering breathlessness, “I get it now. I understand why every woman at Cambridge turns into a cat in heat around you.”

Jace chuckled, his grin widening, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the sight of her so relaxed, so damn comfortable with him. “Well,” he drawled, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against her ear, “I do aim to please. Can’t blame them for wanting a repeat performance, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was amusement in them. “You’re a real piece of work,” she muttered, but her smile gave her away.

He laughed, dropping a quick kiss on top of her head. “Maybe,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, “but admit it—you’re not complaining.”

Her cheeks flushed a bit, but she didn’t look away. “Alright, fine,” she conceded, her grin softening. “I guess you’re not completely useless.”

Jace barked out a laugh, his hand now resting on her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin. “High praise, coming from you.”

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The next morning, Y/N woke up with a pounding headache, her mouth dry as sandpaper, and a groan slipping from her lips before she even opened her eyes. The room felt too bright, her skull thudding like someone was hammering a drum inside her head. Her first hangover—and it was every bit as awful as people had warned.

“Morning, sunshine,” came Jace’s voice, too cheerful, too loud. She cracked one eye open to find him leaning against a desk, a lazy grin on his lips. He held out a bottle of some isotonic drink and a couple of ibuprofen tablets in his palm. “Here, take these. Trust me; they’re a lifesaver.”

She squinted at him, trying to make sense of the blur that was his face, and groaned again. “Do you have to be so… perky?”

Jace chuckled, moving closer and handing her the pills and the drink. “Nah, but it’s a bit fun watching you suffer,” he teased. “First hangover?”

“Obviously,” she muttered, swallowing the pills and chugging the drink like it was holy water. “Why did no one tell me it would feel like getting hit by a bloody carriage?”

He laughed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Consider it a lesson learned, yeah? But hey, you handled yourself pretty well last night.”

Y/N felt her face flush, memories from the night before rushing back in a haze of heat and embarrassment. “Yeah, well… thanks, I guess,” she mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.

Jace grinned and, after deeming her well enough to stand, pulled out a well-worn sweater from his wardrobe. “Here,” he said, tossing it to her. “Borrow this. You’re going to need something warm for the walk back.”

She caught the sweater and stared at it for a moment. It was oversized, soft-looking, and smelled faintly of him—a mix of cologne and something else she couldn’t quite place. She slipped it over her head, the fabric swallowing her, but it was warm and oddly comforting.

Jace then grabbed a pair of sunglasses off his desk and slid them onto her face with a wink. “And these, to protect you from the cruel, unforgiving daylight.”

She couldn’t help but smile, a small laugh bubbling up despite the ache in her head. “Thanks, Jace,” she murmured, feeling strangely touched by his small gestures.

He gave her a once-over, nodding approvingly. “Look at that. Almost like you’re ready to face the world again.”

She rolled her eyes but felt a warmth spread through her that wasn’t just from the sweater. “Almost.”

Jace walked her to the door, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her gently. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before the rest of the lads wake up and start giving us grief.”

Y/N smirked, adjusting the sunglasses on her nose. “Thanks for… everything,” she said, her voice soft but sincere.

Jace just smiled, that damn charming grin of his, and opened the door for her. “Anytime, Y/N. Anytime.”

He watched her disappear down the hall, his sweater draped over her like a dress, her steps still a bit wobbly but steadier than before. He lingered for a moment longer than necessary, an odd mix of satisfaction and uncertainty bubbling in his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, he didn’t want this to be a one-time thing.

As he turned around, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Cregan standing a few steps away, leaning casually against the wall near the water cooler. His arms were crossed, and there was a knowing look in his eyes.

“Fucking hell, Cregan,” Jace muttered, a bit more defensive than he’d meant to sound. “You spying on me now?”

Cregan shrugged, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps closer, his expression calm but unreadable. “Just grabbing some water,” he said, though his tone was heavy with implication. “Couldn’t help but notice… that was quite the exit.”

Jace rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, well, we had a fun night. No harm in that.”

Cregan’s lips quirked up in a small, humorless smile. “She’s a nice girl, Jace,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made Jace shift uncomfortably. “A real nice girl.”

Jace sighed, already sensing where this was going. “I know, I know,” he said, holding up a hand like he was warding off a lecture. “And I didn’t sleep with her, alright? Just… third base. That’s it.”

Cregan’s expression didn’t change. If anything, his brows drew together, a shadow of disappointment crossing his face. “Third base, huh?” he repeated, voice flat. “And how do you think she’s going to feel when she finds out about the bet?”

Jace bristled, his jaw tightening. “Look, I didn’t do anything wrong. She wanted it. I didn’t push her.”

Cregan sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not saying you forced her, Jace,” he replied, his tone measured, like he was trying to keep his annoyance in check. “But you know damn well she doesn’t know the whole story. She doesn’t know she’s just a notch on some stupid bet you made with Aegon and Davos.”

Jace clenched his fists, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “It wasn’t like that,” he muttered, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

Cregan gave him a long, hard look, his eyes piercing. “Maybe not to you,” he said quietly, “but it will be to her when she finds out. And trust me, Jace, she’s going to find out. These things always do.”

Jace opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

Cregan shook his head, stepping back. “Don’t say I didn’t see this impending mess coming,” he said, his voice resigned. “Just… don’t hurt her, Jace. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Jace watched him turn and walk away, his words hanging heavy in the air. And he felt the weight of what he’d done settle on his shoulders, the reality sinking in.

He could still hear Aegon’s taunting voice in his head, but now, it sounded more like a curse than a victory.

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How to Find Out You're the Punchline of a Bet: A Step-by-Step Guide!

Y/N stood outside Jace’s door, holding his sweater and sunglasses in her hands, trying to calm the fluttering nerves in her stomach. She’d had them freshly laundered, even though she’d slept in the sweater more nights than she’d care to admit. It had been too warm, too soft, and way too him. She might have drooled on it as well, but whatever, he didn’t need to know that.

She’d been debating for days whether to bring them back in person or just drop them off and leave. But somehow, she found herself here, standing outside his door, trying to summon the courage to knock.

That was when she saw him.

He was at the end of the corridor, coming back from another practice session, sweaty and still in his kit, flanked by his usual crew—Aegon, Davos, Oscar, and Cregan. They were laughing, shoving each other around, lost in their own world. They hadn’t noticed her yet.

She took a step forward, ready to call out, but then she froze.

Aegon’s loud, obnoxious voice cut through the hallway like a knife, his tone mocking and overly enthusiastic. “Oi, Jace!” he shouted, punching Jace playfully in the arm, a wide grin on his face. “Fair’s fair, mate! You earned it.”

Y/N watched as Aegon reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He peeled off a couple of notes and smacked them into Jace’s hand—£100, easy. Maybe more.

Her stomach twisted, a weird, uneasy feeling creeping up her spine. What the hell was that for?

Then she heard it—the answer she hadn’t been looking for, delivered in Aegon’s stupid, booming voice.

“Can’t believe you actually did it,” Aegon laughed, clapping Jace on the back. “Thought you’d bottle it with the little wallflower, L/N. Didn’t think you had it in you to seal the deal, but you proved me wrong. Fair bet, mate. A hundred quid well-earned!”

Y/N’s heart stopped. She felt her blood run cold as her own name slipped from Aegon’s mouth, followed by a word that made her stomach drop: bet.

She ducked back into the shadow of the wall, pressing herself flat against it, her heart hammering in her chest. She felt like she’d been slapped, the shock of it hitting her all at once. She clutched the sweater to her chest, bile rising in her throat.

She’d been a bloody bet. A joke. Something for them to laugh about over beers and practice sessions. She had trusted him. Believed in that stupid grin and those stupid, warm eyes. And all the while, he’d been playing her.

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breathing, but it felt like the air was choking her. She had her answer now—clear as day.

And god, did it hurt.

They were coming closer, their voices louder, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Y/N’s heart pounded in her ears, each step they took making her feel like the ground was about to give way beneath her. She gripped the sweater tighter in her hands, trying to steady herself, to stop the tremor that had started in her fingers.

And then Jace saw her.

His face paled instantly, the color draining from his cheeks, his smile vanishing like a shadow under harsh light. He slowed to a stop, and the rest of the group followed suit, their expressions shifting from amusement to confusion—and in some cases, dread.

Cregan sighed, a resigned, knowing look in his eyes. Aegon, who had been all smiles a moment ago, faltered, his grin slipping away, replaced by an uneasy look.

Y/N felt a cold fury settle in her veins, pushing back the wave of hurt that threatened to swallow her whole. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, her chin lifting with a defiance she didn’t even know she possessed.

“I just came to return these,” she said, her voice colder than ice, every word clipped and deliberate. She thrust the sweater and sunglasses into Jace’s chest, her hands trembling despite her best efforts to stay calm.

Jace took them reflexively, his mouth opening and closing like he was searching for something to say, but no words came. His eyes were wide, filled with panic and something that looked a lot like shame.

Before he could get a word out, before he could try to explain or deny or beg, Y/N’s hand came up in one swift motion.

She slapped him across the face, the sound sharp and loud in the suddenly silent corridor.

Jace flinched, the impact snapping his head to the side, his cheek reddening instantly where her hand had connected. He blinked, stunned, his hand instinctively touching the spot where she’d hit him.

Y/N didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears that were threatening to spill over. She turned on her heel, her head held high, and walked away, every step feeling like it was taking all the strength she had left.

She didn’t look back. She didn’t say another word. She didn’t need to.

Jace stood frozen, his cheek stinging, his mind whirling, trying to process what had just happened. The corridor felt like it had gone eerily quiet, the only sound the dull thud of his heartbeat in his ears. He could still feel the imprint of her hand on his face, the shock of it running through his body like an electric current.

Did that really just happen?

He blinked, still trying to make sense of it, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He’d been slapped before, sure, but not like that. Not with that kind of fury, that kind of raw, cold anger.

Aegon and Davos stood a few steps behind him, both of them looking like they’d just been doused with ice water.

“Well… crap,” Aegon muttered, scratching the back of his neck, his usual bravado suddenly deflated. “That… that did not go as planned.”

Davos grimaced, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “No shit, Aegon,” he muttered, glancing over at Jace, who still hadn’t moved.

Jace didn’t respond, still staring at the spot where Y/N had been, his expression blank, like he was trying to decipher some impossible puzzle.

Cregan just sighed, shaking his head with a look that was equal parts disappointment and resignation. “I told you this would happen,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Without another word, Cregan turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving the rest of them standing in the heavy silence.

Oscar, who had been hanging back, finally spoke up, a half-amused, half-sympathetic look on his face. “Crash and burn, mate,” he said, his voice almost soft. “Crash and bloody burn.”

Jace blinked, finally tearing his gaze away from where Y/N had disappeared. He felt a strange hollowness in his chest, a tightness in his throat that he couldn’t swallow down.

He’d messed up. Badly. And this time, he wasn’t sure he could charm or talk his way out of this one.

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In Aegon’s defense, he didn’t expect Jace to trip balls and spiral the way he had. The guy looked like he’d been living in a cave, all hollow-eyed and pale like bloody Dracula, and he was a miserable sight—mopey, silent, just plain ugly these days. For the past few weeks, Jace had been in a mood so deep and dark that even Aegon, the king of bad decisions, was starting to feel concerned.

Aegon had tried everything in his bag of tricks. Hell, he even brought out the big guns—he knew Jace used to have a thing for his sister, Helaena. So he’d gone to her, practically on his knees, begging for her to hook up with him or at least flirt a bit, throw him a bone to pull him out of this funk.

But Helaena had returned with a bemused smile, reporting that Jace had looked at her like she was crazy or some shit. “Honestly, Aegon,” she had said, “he stared at me like I had personally offended him. I don't think it's going to work.”

Nothing worked. Not a damn thing.

Cregan, usually the voice of reason in their little gang of idiots, had tried talking sense into him, cornering Jace after practice with the kind of serious, no-nonsense tone that usually worked. But Jace had just brushed him off, muttering something incoherent, looking like a phantom drifting through the halls.

Oscar had taken his turn, too, showing up at Jace’s dorm with his best bottle of whiskey and a pack of expensive cigs, hoping to lure him back to life with old vices. But Jace barely touched the drink, barely looked at the smokes, just sat there staring out the window like a man waiting for the death penalty.

His mates were at their wit's end. They’d bent over backward to drag him out of this shambles, tried everything they could think of, and nothing had made a dent. Jace was lost in his own head, his own mess, and Aegon was starting to wonder if this was what permanent damage looked like.

Aegon sighed heavily, watching Jace slouched in the corner of their usual pub, staring blankly at his untouched pint. “For fuck’s sake, man,” Aegon muttered under his breath. “What the hell are we supposed to do with you?”

Even Davos, normally the most reckless of the bunch, was beginning to worry. “We’ve tried everything,” he whispered to Cregan, who only nodded grimly.

“Maybe,” Cregan said quietly, “he’s got to figure this one out on his own.”

Aegon scowled. “Yeah, well, he better figure it out soon, or I’m dragging his sorry arse to therapy. I’ve got limits, you know.”

Jace didn’t even glance up. And his friends could only watch, exasperated and out of ideas, as the once carefree, charming captain of the football team spiraled deeper into his own self-made hell.

Jace then muttered something under his breath about needing to use the loo, pushing himself up from his chair and shuffling off toward the back of the pub. His mates watched him go, the silence thick.

Oscar leaned in as soon as Jace was out of earshot, his voice low but urgent. “I think we need to talk to Y/N,” he said, glancing around the table. “Get her to talk to him, or at least see if she’ll give him a chance to explain himself.”

Davos nodded quickly, his brow furrowed. “Yeah, shit, man. I’m scared one of these days he’s going to do something stupid. I mean, look at him? He’s a bloody mess. I’ve never seen him like this.”

Cregan sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “His brother called me yesterday,” he admitted, his voice grim. “Said Jace hasn’t been answering his mum’s texts or calls. She’s worried sick. Wants to know what the hell’s going on, but I’ve got nothing to tell her.”

Aegon looked around at the lot of them, his usual cocky grin replaced by a serious frown. “Yeah, we need an intervention. This is getting out of hand. If anyone can snap him out of it, it’s her.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “She’s got every right to hate him, but… we’ve gotta try, right? Maybe if she just talks to him, hears him out, it’ll help. He’s spiraling, and none of us know how to get through to him.”

Cregan looked uncertain, but he finally nodded. “Alright,” he said. “But we have to be careful with this. She’s pissed, and for good reason. We can’t just waltz up and ask her to forgive him like it’s nothing.”

Aegon leaned back in his chair, looking more serious than any of them had seen him in a while. “So, how do we do this?” he asked, eyes flicking to the others. “Who’s gonna reach out to her?”

Cregan exhaled slowly. “I will. I’ll find a way to talk to her, explain… something. Let her know he’s not himself. We just need a chance. Otherwise, I’m afraid Jace is going to do something we can’t fix.”

They all nodded, glancing toward the hallway where Jace had disappeared.

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The next afternoon, Cregan Stark found himself walking along the Cambridge Backs, the gentle curve of the river Cam glinting in the sunlight, punts gliding lazily over the water, laughter and the murmur of tourists drifting in the air. He had asked around, pieced together the clues, and finally located her usual haunt—a quiet spot along the riverbank, tucked beneath a canopy of willows.

And there she was.

Y/N sat on the grass, a book open on her lap, though she didn’t seem to be reading it. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, dark circles smudged beneath them, as if sleep had been evading her for days. She looked almost as bad as Jace did, and for a moment, Cregan thought it was almost funny—if it weren’t so damn tragic—how much alike they looked.

She spotted him approaching and her eyes narrowed into thin slits, her whole body tensing like she was preparing for a fight. Cregan raised his hands quickly, palms out, a peace offering. “Hey, hey, I come in peace,” he called out, a small, disarming smile on his lips. “Promise I’m not here to make things worse.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but at least she didn’t immediately bolt. She looked annoyed, but resigned, almost like she’d been expecting one of Jace’s friends to show up sooner or later. “Of all people,” she muttered, “at least they were smart enough to send you. The one with half a brain.”

Cregan chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walked over and sat down a good distance away, giving her some space. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said lightly. “Though I think you’ve already got my number. I’m not here to defend anyone. Just… wanted to talk.”

She snorted softly, glancing back at her book. “If you’re here to try to make me feel sorry for Jace, save your breath. I’m not interested in playing the sympathy card.”

He shook his head, his expression earnest. “I’m not here to ask for sympathy, Y/N. I’m here because… look, for all the love I have for my mates, especially Jace, I told them from the start that this bet was a shitty idea. Callous. I disagreed with it, and I warned them. Didn’t stop them, obviously, but… I tried.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes still guarded, but there was a flicker of curiosity there. “So why are you here now? You think saying ‘I told them so’ is going to make any difference?”

Cregan sighed, leaning back against the bench. “Nah, I know it doesn’t fix anything. But I thought you should hear it from someone who… I don’t know, isn’t completely messed up in the head like Aegon. Gods, I love him like my own brother, but the man is a ticking timebomb.”

Y/N let out a small, involuntary laugh at that, surprising herself. “Yeah,” she muttered, “I got that impression.”

Cregan smiled slightly, sensing he was making a little headway. “Jace has been… well, let’s just say he looks like he’s been waterboarded. I’ve never seen him like this before, Y/N. He’s not eating, not sleeping, not talking to anyone. We’re worried, and none of us know how to reach him. It’s like he’s punishing himself or something.”

Y/N’s face softened for a brief moment, but then she straightened, putting her defenses back up. “Well, maybe he deserves it,” she said quietly, though there wasn’t as much bite to her words as she’d intended. “He made his bed, didn’t he?”

Cregan nodded. “Yeah, he did. But I think he’s realized just how badly he’s messed up. And I know you don’t owe him anything, not even your time… but I’m asking. Would you talk to him? Even if it’s just to tell him off properly, maybe it’ll snap him out of this spiral he’s in.”

Y/N studied him for a moment, her fingers playing with the edge of her book. “Why should I?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Why should I give him the satisfaction?”

Cregan leaned forward, his gaze steady. “Maybe not for him,” he said softly. “But for you. Because carrying this around… it isn’t doing you any good either.”

She looked down, her shoulders tense, a battle clearly waging inside her. After a long pause, she finally nodded, just once. “Fine,” she whispered. “I’ll talk to him. But I’m not promising anything.”

Cregan smiled, relief flooding through him. “That’s all I’m asking, Y/N. Thank you.”

She nodded again, her expression still wary, but Cregan could see tiny cracks in her armor. Seems like he has done his job. And that’s all the push he could do.

“Good luck,” he said, standing up and giving her a reassuring nod. “You’re gonna need it with that idiot.”

An hour later, Y/N stood outside Jace’s door, her heart pounding, her nerves shot to hell. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, then knocked on the door with more force than necessary.

Jace opened it, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, his hair tousled, eyes wide with shock when he saw who was standing there. He looked so stunned, she almost laughed.

“Y-Y/N?” he sputtered, his voice an awkward mess of surprise. “What—what are you doing here?”

He started to stammer out more incoherent sentences, a jumble of half-formed apologies, but she cut him off with a raised hand. “I don’t want to do this here,” she said firmly. “I need some fresh air while I listen to whatever sad attempt you’re about to make to justify what you did.”

Jace blinked, swallowing hard, and nodded quickly, grabbing his jacket off a chair. “Okay… yeah, sure,” he mumbled, following her out of the dorm like a scolded puppy.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Y/N leading the way through until they reached a quieter, less crowded part of the grounds. The air was crisp, the sky overcast, but it felt good—clean, refreshing, something he hadn’t felt in weeks.

She finally stopped, crossing her arms over her chest and turning to face him. “Okay, talk,” she demanded, her tone sharp, daring him to make this worth her time.

Jace ran a hand through his hair, feeling like a complete idiot. “Look,” he started, “I know I messed up. I know how stupid and cruel the bet was… I realized it from the start, but I went along with it anyway. I was out of my damn mind. I don’t have a good excuse.”

Y/N’s eyes flashed, anger boiling over. “Why?” she spat. “Why would you do that? I mean, I get that you’re a bit dim, but I didn’t think you were that cruel. And I’m an idiot for falling for it. If you’re dumb, then I’m even dumber.”

Jace flinched, the sting of her words hitting him hard, but he forced himself to keep going. “I didn’t want to do anything that night,” he said, his voice softer, more desperate. “You were drunk, and I knew it wasn’t right. But… fuck, Y/N, I really did want to kiss you. So when you asked me to, what was I supposed to do? How the hell was I supposed to say no?”

That shut her up real good.

She stared at him, her anger momentarily replaced by confusion, disbelief. “Why the hell would you even be into me?” she demanded, her voice tinged with frustration. “You could have anyone—why would you even look twice at me?”

Jace’s frustration boiled over. “Maybe that’s exactly why!” he shouted back. “Maybe I’m tired of the same old bullshit! Maybe you’re the first real person I’ve met in this whole bloody place, and it scared the hell out of me.”

They bickered back and forth. Y/N was still angry, still hurt, and Jace was struggling to make her understand, to make her see that it wasn’t just about the bet, that there was more to it—more to him, to them.

And then, suddenly, the sky opened up. Rain poured down out of nowhere, drenching them both in seconds.

“Great, absolutely fantastic,” Y/N muttered, throwing her hands up in exasperation as the rain pelted down. “I just washed my hair this morning. And now this.”

She looked like she was on the verge of tears, a mix of frustration and exhaustion weighing her down, and Jace’s heart twisted at the sight. He reached out, his hand hovering uncertainly near her arm. “Can we start over?” he asked, his voice pleading. “Please, Y/N. You can slap me again if you want. I’d do anything to make this right.”

Y/N just stared at him, long and hard, the rain streaming down her face, mingling with the tears she refused to let fall. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw, unfiltered regret, the desperation in his voice. And in that moment, all the anger, all the hurt, seemed to wash away with the rain.

“I just really want to kiss you right now,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the downpour.

And then, before he could say anything, she closed the distance between them, her lips crashing against his with a force that took his breath away.

Jace responded immediately, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close as he kissed her back with everything he had, the rain soaking them both to the bone, but neither of them cared. The world around them seemed to fade away, the only thing that mattered was this—this kiss, this connection, this second chance.

His lips moved against hers with a desperation that bordered on frantic, his hands sliding up to cup her face, thumbs brushing the rain-soaked strands of hair from her cheeks. He kissed her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Between kisses, he managed to whisper, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… please, forgive me…”

Y/N felt his words more than heard them, the breath of each apology warm against her mouth, mingling with the rain. Her heart twisted, conflicted, every emotion tangled up inside her—anger, hurt, relief, and something stronger, something she’d been trying to bury since the moment he’d first kissed her.

But she couldn’t deny the way he was holding her, the sincerity in his voice, the way his hands trembled slightly against her skin. He was being so gentle with her.

“Jace,” she whispered against his lips, her voice catching in her throat. “I… I want to forgive you, but I don’t know how. You hurt me. You made me feel like a joke.”

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his forehead resting against hers, his breath ragged and warm. “I know,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I know, and I hate myself ever since for it. But I swear, Y/N, I never meant for it to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you. It was stupid and wrong and… and I was a bloody idiot.”

She swallowed hard, searching his eyes, finding nothing but raw, open honesty. “You were,” she agreed softly, her fingers still clutching the front of his shirt. “But… maybe we’re both idiots. Because I still…”

Jace’s heart leaped in his chest, hope flaring bright and wild. “Because you still what?” he pressed, his thumb brushing over her cheek, wiping away a raindrop that looked suspiciously like a tear.

“Because I still… want to try,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know why, but I do.”

Jace’s lips curved into a small, hopeful smile, his hand cradling her face with a tenderness that surprised even him. “Then try with me,” he whispered, his lips hovering over hers again. “Let me make it up to you. Let me prove that I’m worth it… worthy of you.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded, just once, her heart thudding wildly in her chest. “Okay,” she whispered. “But don’t make me regret this, Jacaerys Velaryon.”

“I won’t,” he promised again, and his lips found hers with a new urgency, a fervent hope that maybe, just maybe, this time he could get it right. “I swear, love, I won’t.”

And then, as if the universe wanted to punctuate the moment, a blinding flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed immediately by a crack of thunder that shook the ground beneath them. Both of them jumped apart, startled, wide-eyed like kids caught sneaking out past curfew.

“Shit!” Jace laughed, glancing up at the dark sky. “That was close. We should probably get back inside before we’re fried like fish and chips.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking the water from her hair. “Yeah, I’d rather not be a human lightning rod today.”

He grinned, noticing the way she was shivering now, rain running down her face, her clothes clinging to her skin. He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close, his voice dropping to that familiar cheeky drawl. “Come on, then. I’ll warm you right up,” he teased, giving her a playful wink, his hand sliding lower on her back, pressing her against him. “Plenty of ways to heat things up, you know?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her smile was undeniable. “God help me, you’re cocky,” she muttered, but there was a spark in her eyes, a waggish glint that matched his own.

Jace’s grin widened. “Oh, you liked it,” he teased. “Don’t pretend otherwise. You loved every second of it. I’ve got more where that came from.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not willing to let him have the upper hand for long. “You mean the head you gave me?” she shot back, her voice dripping with mock innocence. “Yeah, I have to admit, that was… nice.”

Jace barked out a laugh, his eyes lighting up with delight. “Oh, nice, she says!” he repeated, leaning in closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “L/N, that was just a taste. I’m a man of many talents. Consider that your appetizer.”

Y/N snorted, swatting his chest. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Velaryon. I’d hate for you to blow your entire repertoire too soon.”

He laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got stamina to spare. We’ve got all night to explore… my menu.”

She blushed and couldn’t stop her breath from hitching. “Alright, alright, let’s get out of this rain before you start making more food innuendos. I’m getting hungry.”

He grinned, holding her tighter. “Deal. But once we’re dry, I’m taking you up on that second course.”

She just rolled her eyes again but leaned into him, letting him lead her back toward the safety of the building, their laughter mingling with the sound of the rain as they ran for cover.

[galaxynajma]

Blue Lock driving headcanons Why? Well why not

Btw I have zero idea what I’m even talking about here

Isagi:

Isagi was always use to either his dad or mom driving him around so he wouldn’t really think of getting a license ( especially when he’s in bluelock ), but at some point in few years he realized that the number 1 striker should probably know how to drive

Bachira

Probably knows how to drive a bike, besides that the closest thing he ever got to driving a car was one of them toy ones his classmate had

He would just let one of his friends ( aka Isagi ) drive him around , he’s more of a backseat princess than a passenger one

Chigiri:

Chigiri just lets his mom drive him around to school and such . His sister does as well when he’s visiting her

Chigiri is just a princess

Kunigami:

Sister kunigami was actually teaching Ren how to drive… but then Bluelock happened.. and then the wildcard

But after everything is settled he does touch the idea of learning how to drive again

Barou:

Barou got a sports car, black with red leather seats, for his 18th birthday from his father. A week or so later he got his license

he drives his two little sisters EVERYWHERE. The moment one or both of them are feeling a little down by just a little, Barou immediately gets the car ready to go to the mall and spoil them rotten

Barou has a couple of rules when it comes to having people in his car . And the number 1 rule is " NO EATING IN THE CAR ". Also has extra floor mats

Those rules don’t apply to his sisters btw

Shidou:

Does Shidou have a license? No , does he know how to drive? Yes , is he good at it? WELLL-

You won’t die but the amount of stress you’ll feel probably isn’t good ( unless your name is Itoshi Sae )

Aiku:

He knows how to drive ofc , after training with the U20 team he’s dangling his carkeys loudly with a cocky smug smirk asking if anyone’s up for a ride

He wants to learn how to ride a motorcycle at some point, do you know .. increase his popularity with the ladies

Karasu:

When Karasu’s 18th birthday was around the corner his older sister and grandma were teaching him late at night. Granny kept nagging at his ear the whole time .. but don’t worry everything tuned out alright, took his driving lesson a week after

Otoya:

Otoya thought about learning about how to drive just so he can seem more cool but ends up forgetting about it .after he met Karasu during bluelock he just uses him as his personal ride from now on

Yukimiya:

Yukki knows enough to drive around late at night he knows that if his eye condition gets worse that he won’t be able to do something like this again 

Rin:

Rin always knew that he’ll get his driving license eventually but he wasn’t in a rush… but the moment he heard both Isagi and Sae have theirs , Rin had to get his as soon as possible when he turned 18

Sae:

Sae has a license, he just likes it when other people drive him around instead( aka his manager)

The only reason he ever got it was because he wanted to go to the beach late at night alone without any worry

Lorenzo:

Snuffy had the great idea of teaching Lorenzo how to drive! … yeah the first time didn’t go so well.. might have ended with Snuffy needing his car fixed.. but Lorenzo is definitely getting better!!

Kaiser and Sae had the misfortune of being Lorenzo’s first two guests to ride around with… Kaiser felt like he was gonna have a heart attack meanwhile Sae was regretting his life choices that lead him here

Kaiser:

Kaiser finally had it .. a beautiful custom designed sports car , a hunk of steel and metal that was peak german engineering , something to show off how far he has come , something he bought from his well earned money

Ray Dark: it’s beautiful . Good choice, Kaiser.

Kaiser: oh ah- Well you don’t think that I, Michael kaiser , would have poor taste.

Ray Dark: No no of course not .. you’re no longer that helpless 15 year old I found. Why don’t you take her for a little ride?

Shit.

Kaiser: OH- um why of course - just give me a -

Ray Dark: You don’t know how to drive, don’t you?

…

Ray Dark: * sigh * I guess you’ll have to take some lessons first . Don’t want you getting into trouble

Ness:

Ness has always ridden a bike growing up, honestly if it was up to him he would use a bike forever

It fits his whole aesthetic you know? He has a lot of silly little wizard themed stickers on his old bike

He thought about riding a motorcycle before… hmmm

.

The end

[ficmashup]

A Date

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: These two are such idiots, I love them. I'm already feeling the itch to make this ten parts and I'm trying to resist (not really) so we'll see! I know what I want to happen next, but we'll see how many chapters it takes to get there. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Some SA references if you squint, crass language.

Word Count: 3.1k

Feral Masterlist

My foot taps insistently on the floor as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’ve changed clothes five times and while each outfit has irritated me in some way, nothing makes me more frustrated than the fact that I’ve changed clothes five times. It’s so unlike me. But there’s no protocol for going on a date with your captain. There’s fucking protocol to not date your captain. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I take a deep breath, my gaze dropping to my phone for the dozenth time.

It’s been a couple days since Price stayed here and since we set a date to go out. Like actually go out.

The only people I can call are the people I absolutely do not want to know about this. Simon would either pretend not to care then tail us from my apartment or show up randomly wanting to meet my date. Soap would tease the hell out of me and keep bothering me until I told him who it is so he could do a background check. Gaz…he’s the wildcard. And it’s for that reason alone that I pick up the phone and call him.

The phone rings as I put it on speaker and set it on the dresser in front of me as I stare at the screen. “G? Hey!” His voice comes over and I smile a little at the instant warmth in his tone. The tapping of my foot slows.

“Gaz.” I greet him, then realize I have no clue what I’d like to say. “What are you doing?”

“I’m in the shops getting a few things for this weekend. You’re going to fucking love the dip I’m bringing.” I hear the soft shuffling of bags and more of my nerves ebb at his easygoing tone. We’re all gathering at Price’s to watch the game before we’re heading back to base this weekend. “You’re bringing something too, yeah?”

“You know I’m bringing dessert and I don’t want to hear a fucking word about it.” I bite and smile when I hear him chuckling.

“Thought your idea of dessert was sucking on a spoon of sugar, G. You know the whole point of watching the game is to eat chips and dip in front of a big tv, yeah? We don’t need dessert.”

“You need something sweet to cut the salt all of you are inhaling every second.”

“It’s a dip party.”

“It’s a football party and I’m making a dip.”

“A dessert dip? The fuck is it, a bowl of whipped cream?”

“I’ve seen you and Johnny race to finish containers of whipped cream, so don’t even try pretending you wouldn’t love that.” I’m grinning now and while a ball of nerves still remains heavy in my stomach, I no longer feel weighed down by it.

Gaz grunts over the phone. “Ugh, right. Nearly threw up after that.”

“Mmhmm.” I remember clearly, for some reason, I was suckered into rubbing both Gaz and Soap’s backs while they tried not to puke. “If you don’t want to try what I bring, then you don’t have to.” There’s a beat.

“No, I’ll try it.” He gives in almost instantly and I smirk while I walk into my kitchen, leaning against the counter while I stare at the door. A glance at the clock reveals that it’s nearly time and if there’s anything I can count on, it’s that John will be on schedule. “But did you need something, G? Or have you just missed my sweet voice?” Gaz asks and I hear some plastic crinkling as he no doubt piles chips into his shopping cart.

My lips press together for a moment as I consider what to say. “Just missed your voice, Kyle. Looking forward to trying whatever monstrosity of a dip you end up bringing.”

“Hm, careful, G. All those sweets are starting to rub off on you. That was almost sweet.”

“Fuck off.”

“Yeah, that’s more like it.”

“Bye, Gaz.”

“Later, G.”

I hang up and take a deep breath, feeling steady again before there’s a knock at the door. The zing of nerves flushes through my body and I don’t let myself think about it as I walk over and swing the door open without hesitation. My body instantly softens at the sight of Price in a white button down, pressed slacks, and a bouquet of roses. I’m struck dumb instantly.

My name falls off his lips, sweet as honey, and the way he looks me up and down makes me grateful that I finally chose a black dress. “You’re stunning.” He says it like a fact and I smile, pressing my lips together to keep from grinning like a fool as I welcome him inside. I definitely don’t let my eyes slide over his broad back and see how his pants fit his backside and thighs very nicely. “Wasn’t sure how you felt about flowers, so I figured I’d hedge my bets.” He places the beautiful bouquet on my kitchen counter while I grab a vase and I smile as I turn around to see him placing a small bag of my favored hard candies beside them.

“And you say that you’re not good at diplomacy.” I tease and earn a chuckle while I fill a vase with water.

“Don’t think many would accept flowers and candy in exchange for weapons or tac gear.” He lifts the bouquet and slides the already cut stems into the vase as I set it on the counter next to him.

“You never know. Something to try.” I smirk up at him while he smirks down at me and fuck, it’s been a long time since I’ve so easily had fun with someone. “You look really good.” I say it before I can think too hard about it and luckily, my head is blissfully quiet as his smile sweetens while those pretty blue eyes shine.

“Good thing too. Maybe I won’t look too outta place next to you.” He says and I blink before I lift my hand to flutter over my mouth to hide my wide smile. Fucking smooth talker. “Ready?” Price tilts his head towards the door and I nod, grabbing my small purse and sliding a few candies into it. He offers his arm and I take it with a little smile, feeling…well, like I’m going on an actual date.

The car ride is easy, nothing we haven’t done before, but the nerves creep back as we walk into a nice restaurant. Although it’s terribly sweet how John shifts and his hand slides over mine wrapped around his arm when he confirms the reservation. Maybe he’s as nervous as I am. “Is this your usual haunt for dates?” I ask him softly as we settle down at a table. Thankfully, it has a clear view of the doors.

John heaves a breath and shakes his head. “No. Thought that since we’re both a bit out of practice, going back to basics might be best.” He settles into his chair and there’s a small smile on my face as he looks around a bit, hands smoothing over his thighs. Somehow, him being nervous makes me less nervous. It means he cares as much as I do.

“Bet I can beat you there.” I challenge and he stills, quirking an eyebrow at me. “Two years. And a little longer if we’re talking a date with someone that matters.”

John half-smiles. “A year for me. Year and a half for anyone that mattered.” I hum, claiming my victory while his eyes sparkle with amusement just as the waiter comes by to take our drink orders. I take a small risk just to put him a little more at ease.

“An old-fashioned for him.” I order his favorite with a little smirk at the look he gives me.

He considers a moment while the waiter looks between us with a dubious expression. “Mojito to start, then white wine for dinner. Something sweet.” Price looks at me for approval and I nod, pressing my lips together to keep myself from grinning like a fool. The waiter takes this in and his bemused glance at us nearly makes me laugh as he walks away.

“Think we’re scaring the waiter.” My tone is light as my fingers glide over the silverware laid out on the table with the cloth napkin in my lap. At least I remembered a little about how to act in a place like this.

“He’ll recover.” John says without an ounce of concern and I try not to glow under his steady gaze. It feels surprisingly nice having all of his attention. I don’t mind being seen by him, never have.

My head tilts a little. “Do you enjoy scaring the general public?”

“Occasionally.” He leans forward a little and I copy him, unable to resist. “Although, I’m not the one who nearly knocked out some idiot in a bar.”

I smile at the memory. “He would have deserved it.”

Price nods without hesitation. “I almost regret not letting you. That happen often when you’re home?”

My head shakes as I fiddle with my glass of water, turning it in a slow circle. “I handle things a little differently here. My reaction there was due to being around a crowd of other military men who seem to always understand physical denials better than verbal. Something I’m sure you’re not unfamiliar with.” He sighs, but nods with reluctant acceptance. “I figured it was better to make my stance clear right away. At home, I’m a bit more lenient. More drinks thrown in people’s faces than fists.” The pads of my fingers tap against my glass as a thought occurs to me. “What’s your choice of deterrent?”

My question earns me a warm chuckle and brings the slightest of blushes to his cheeks. “Ah…most are chased off by a stern warning.” My smile widens a bit when he doesn’t deny being chased after. It’s not a surprise. In my clearly biased opinion, Price is a catch. Which makes it all the more puzzling that he’s on a date with me.

We order and conversation is easy as always. We veer away from the topic of work and speak more about our family life, what it was like for us growing up, and how we eventually decided to go into the military. It’s nice hearing him talk about himself for an extended period of time. I’m used to hearing him talk about plans, missions, and all with a firm tone with a goal in mind. Now, he’s relaxed and smiling and his tone is light. Even playful. I could listen to him talk all day.

“I don’t need dessert, John.” I insist, smiling ear to ear as he hands the dessert menu back to our waiter after already ordering me one. “I’m not going to eat it.”

“You’ll have at least one bite here, then eat it tomorrow.” He states and my head shakes while I swirl my wine around in my glass. It’s actually good. He chose well.

“Only if you have a bite too. You need more sugar in your life.” I say pointedly with laughter in my voice. His smile in return is warm and both of us have our elbows on the table as we lean towards each other.

“Good thing I have you then, sugar.” His eyes sparkle as my head ducks a moment, my face heating.

“Mm, good thing.” I return and fuck, he’s pretty when he smiles like that. All teasing and light and sweet. The dessert comes, the sweetest little thing they had on the menu, and we both take a bite as promised. I might have a few bites more before we finally walk out. The night is brisk and I pull my wrap tight around my shoulders, automatically leaning into Price’s warmth as I wrap my arm around his. He accepts me instantly and it’s easy to feel like a normal couple as we walk down the street towards his car.

“Should we think about what to tell the team or are we putting a pin in that for now?” I ask idly and Price sighs, the warm air from his lungs appearing as an amorphous shape in the cool air.

“As soon as we tell them, we’re going to hear about it for a while.”

“Weeks?”

“Months, if we’re lucky. Years, if we’re unlucky.”

I pull in a deep breath, shaking my head at the thought of the boys nagging us for so long. But it does make me happy to think about years spent with them and Price. “How about we talk about it over breakfast on Friday?” I suggest, my lips pressing together a moment as nerves swirl in my stomach. I can count on one hand the number of times that I’ve asked a man out with varied success. But when I look back at Price, he just has a sweet smile on his face.

“Sounds good to me. Dinner tonight, lunch tomorrow, breakfast on Friday.” We reach the car and I raise a brow at him as he opens the passenger side door for me.

“Lunch tomorrow?” We hadn’t spoken about that yet.

He nods, a teasing glint in his eyes as he helps me up into the passenger seat. “Mmhmm. Sound good?” Good is a severe understatement, but I manage not to grin like an idiot while I nod.

“Sounds good.” I agree and that little glint grows brighter as he closes the door. I allow myself to lean my head back against the headrest as I smile as wide as I want, then compose myself as Price gets into the driver’s seat and takes me home. We both walk very slowly as we head up to my flat and I almost laugh at both of us acting like teenagers not wanting to say goodbye at the end of a date.

He sighs heavily as I unlock the door and I smirk at the sound. At least I don’t have to wonder if he had a good time. I push my door open and turn back around, leaning against the door frame. “Thank you for this.” My hands smooth down my dress as I look up at his handsome face and I’m glad he’s not wearing his usual hat pulled low over his face. I like that I get to see this side of him. “I had a really good time.”

“So did I. Thank you for letting me.” He says with a playful edge in his voice and I give him a look for the insinuation that I don’t often let anyone do anything for me. Despite it being absolutely true.

“And are you going to tell me where I’m letting you take me for lunch tomorrow?” I turn his words around on him and feel immense satisfaction as he smirks and leans against the doorframe opposite me.

“I’m going to show you a few of my favorite places around the city. It’ll be a bit more relaxed and we’ll be walking a bit, so comfortable shoes would be wise. I’ll come to pick you up at noon. Alright?” He tilts his head towards me slightly, waiting for me to agree, and I smile at his thoughtfulness as I nod.

“Alright.” I agree and we stall for another moment. We’ve reached a soft line tonight. Sure, he’s been in my apartment, ate my food, drank tea, slept in my guest room, but that was all while we were friends. He’s not getting invited inside after the first date. I cross my arms and he seems to realize the line a second afterward, smiling as he straightens and takes half a step away from my door.

“I…” He hesitates and my arms fall back to my sides as I wait for whatever he has to say. His pretty blue eyes are locked on mine with his lips parted and I raise a brow, silently telling him to go on. He takes a breath and turns his body back towards mine, but doesn’t move closer. “I’d like to kiss you, but I need you to tell me if that’s alright or not.” His voice is a touch lower and surprise trickles through me, then warmth.

I take a steadying breath before stepping towards him. “It’s okay. Just…slowly.” My eyes stay on his, my words frank and honest, just like we’ve always been with each other. He nods and leans down a bit, the only part of him touching me is a callused finger sliding under my chin to tilt my head for him. The barest touch sends electricity sparking through me.

I taste his breath first and the leftover sweetness from our last bite of dessert mixes with distinct, bitter scent of his cigars. It’s intoxicating and I hum ever so softly while my eyelids flutter. John murmurs my name before brushing his lips against mine for the first time. I stiffen out of instinct and he pulls back an inch before freezing, his eyes scanning my face. It takes a moment for me to relax and this time, I reach up and gingerly slide my hands through his beard as I get myself used to him. He sighs and I’m immediately comforted by the way he leans into my touch.

“Again.” I request, lightly scratching my dull nails over his beard without even thinking about it.

Price’s eyes widen for a moment, but he doesn’t hesitate to kiss me again. I focus on everything that makes Price, Price—the smell of his cigars, his trimmed beard, the way I can feel the tension in his hand as he tilts my chin up, doing everything he can not to touch me more because I haven’t asked for it yet, haven’t said it was okay. His lips are gentle against mine and the kiss is simple. Just a little pressure and the slightest taste of his breath once, twice, a third time before he pulls back and straightens.

Our hands fall away from one another and I rub my fingers together, still feeling the sensation of his beard under my fingertips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says in a low tone that I’ve never heard from him before and all I can do is nod. He smiles and I barely stop myself from reaching for him again as he walks down the hall and into the stairwell.

It’s only when I’m inside my apartment and leaning back against my locked door, fingers on my lips as they tingle, that I realize just how much trouble I’m in.

Taglist (I love all of you sm! <3 If anyone else wants to be tagged, lmk!)

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes @thereeallink @younggirlgenius @1wh4re1nova

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Bad Ideas (Part 13)

Regulus Black au

Summary:  It started as nothing now it’s something. Voldemort has been defeated but that doesn’t mean the wizarding world is still a good place to be.

Link to Part 12

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating : M

_____

“You’re acting like a lunatic but I’m not pointing that out. I’m sorry to upset either of you but it was my choice…a choice that I don’t regret. I am Regulus’ wife and that’s how it's going to be.”

James didn’t move when those words left your lips. He simply stood staring at you until you turned and walked away. How the two of you would ever form a meaningful bond seemed to vanish further and further from sight.

I suppose she is most definitely my daughter. She is as stubborn as I am.

James thought as you refused to meet your father’s gaze before glancing at your watch. You were more than thankful that you could escape to work.

“I have to go. I have a shift that I picked up. No killing each other while I’m away.”

You commented before moving to kiss Regulus goodbye. He smiled against your mouth knowing good and well that James was wincing.

“Love you, darling.”

You said, enjoying the feeling of Regulus’ mouth against yours.

“Love you more.”

He replied as you patted his cheek and then left the room.

The following hours were uneventful for you. It was typical patients that you saw on a typical basis.

I need the mundane.

You thought as you attempted to concentrate on the chart in front of you. The conversation with James had plagued your head for most of the day. Was you wrong for totally ripping him? You could admit that had the roles been reversed and it was your daughter dropping the “marriage” bomb on you unexpectedly…you would have been upset.

I wouldn’t have been so upset with him if he talked to me like a person and not a child.

You thought. As you had thought many times before, James hadn’t made much of an effort to properly get to know you. Instead, he wanted to treat you as if you were a five-year-old little girl. If James brought you home a pony as a peace offering, you wouldn’t be too surprised.

Maybe Sirius or Remus can have an actual intelligent conversation.

You knew Regulus wouldn’t have any kind of logical conversation.

You added, in your mind. It didn’t take you being Regulus’ wife to know that he was probably at home antagonizing James. If you came home to a destroyed house you wouldn’t be too surprised.

“Dr. Black to emergency.”

Your name being called over the intercom pulled you from your thoughts. Standing up and putting the charts away, you left the room to make a dash downstairs.

Walking into the emergency department, you froze seeing Sirius and Remus sitting on a bed. Sirius had a blood-soaked napkin to his nose while Remus was shaking his head. Across the room, James lay back on another bed holding his stomach.

“What’s going on?”

You asked, feeling the panic starting to rise. Remus immediately stood up while giving you a comforting look.

“Y/n, it appears there are some of Voldemort’s followers that weren’t rounded up and we found them…”

A hand went to your mouth.

And we just thought that we were done with that prick.

You thought before looking around the room.

“Where is Regulus?”

Remus glanced over at Sirius who stood up.

“Sweetheart…”

That tone. You had heard that tone before. Hell, you had used that tone with so many patients or their families before delivering earth-shattering news. The panic in your chest started to rise.

“Sirius, where is Regulus?”

Sirius took a breath. This was NOT how he wanted to spend his evening! Lily got up and moved to stand close to you. She didn’t care about the argument earlier in the day. None of that mattered now. Now she simply wanted to be your mother and comfort you.

“He’s alive but…he was bitten by a werewolf. He’s in the next room.”

Sirius wasn’t sure how you would react. You were the real wildcard when it came to emotions. He watched as you stood not blinking.

“Y/n, we can make it work.”

Remus said in his best calming voice. Of all people, Remus knew how to get through to you the best.

“Sweetheart…”

Lily started. You immediately took off the white coat that you were wearing and tossed it to the ground before rushing into the next room. Going into doctor mode, you ignored the looks of the nurses as you reached for gloves.

Your heart began to pound as you looked down at Regulus. Had you not been a healer and seen people in this state often you would have thought that he was dead. Your throat tightened as you put a hand on his face. All of the color had drained from his face.

“Where are we?”

You questioned the nurse at your side. Henrietta gave you a careful gaze. She knew who the young man on the table was. Henrietta had seen Regulus visit you many times at the hospital.

“We have the wound cleaned, Dr. Black. The bleeding has stopped but it's best to get him stitched up as quickly as possible. Are you alright?”

You nodded. Normally, you were a master at hiding your emotions and being a careful doctor. You had seen people in god-awful predicaments. Seeing Regulus like this, however, made you feel like a frightened child.

“I am. I’ll get him stitched up. Run a sedative for the time being. He shouldn’t be awake for any of this.”

Henrietta reached out and touched your hand

“Dr. Black, I can get someone else to stitch him up.”

You shook your head.

“No. I can do this.”

Half an hour later, you stood at the foot of Regulus’ bed watching him sleep. You weren’t sure how long you had been standing there. All that you could focus on was Regulus’ pale face.

“Y/n?”

You looked up as Remus stepped into the room with Sirius behind him.

“He’s alive. I have him under a sedative for the time being. He’s going to be a little loopy.”

You commented, robotically. Remus came to join you. If anyone could relate to your current situation, it was him.

“Who was it? Was it…”

“It was Greyback.”

Remus said. It was best to let you know the truth. The faster you knew, the faster the shock could wear off…(If only that was true…Remus’ mind supplied.). Remus took a breath as a furious expression came over your face.

“That bastard that is still alive. Now look what he’s gone and done to him”

Sirius placed a careful hand on your arm. You hadn’t even noticed him move to your other side.

“We have members of the ministry and the order on his trail. We are going to either kill him or toss his ass right in Azkaban where he belongs”

“I want him dead. Prison is too good for him.”

You replied. Waiting a moment to speak again, you took a shaky breath.

“How am I going to tell Regulus what has happened to him? Everything has changed.”

Remus and Sirius exchanged a careful look before Remus turned back to you. He hated seeing you this way. He had hoped that after Voldemort was killed, you would never have that look on your face again. Now here you stood looking absolutely wrecked.

“Yes, my dear, everything has changed but that doesn’t mean that you can’t adapt. Regulus will learn to adapt. You can make a wolfsbane potion better than anyone I know.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you remain locked in your head. It didn’t take you being in love with Regulus to know that he simply wouldn’t “adapt.” This was going to be world-shattering for him. This was going to be something that Regulus never saw coming. This was something that would devastate his world.

“It's silly. Last night, we were talking about actually having a wedding. We both figured that we royally pissed everyone off with getting married in secret. He said he wanted nothing more than to see me in a white dress. The two of you know that we didn’t get married to piss anyone off, right?”

Sirius pressed his lips together. He was in his own inner turmoil knowing what his younger brother was about to become. He looked up to your face before taking a shaky breath.

“That typically isn’t the reason people get married. The answer to your question is, no sweetheart, I never thought that for a moment.”

Remus gave Sirius a gentle smile.

“Darling, you can still have your wedding. Once Regulus heals properly, we can arrange the wedding you deserve. It can be as big or as small as you would like. Y/n, I promise that I will help Regulus in any way that I can. You believe me, right?”

Looking up, you met Remus’ face. You gave him a small smile. Of course, you trusted Remus. There was no way that you could not trust Remus. He had never let you down before, so why would he start now?

“Thank you, Remus.”

Moving to sit on the side of the bed, you reached out and touched Regulus’ cold face. Brushing his hair back, you leaned down to kiss him. He took a shaky breath before smiling you.

“We’ll make it work. I’ll take care of you now and forever.”

Regulus’ eyes slowly fluttered open before a frown came over his face.

“Merlin, it hurts.”

He groaned. You reached for the pain shot that lay on the bedside table.

“I’ll make you feel better, love.”

You said gently before injecting Regulus with the pain shot. Regulus took a deep breath before trying his best to focus on your face.

“I know your face.”

He said, softly. You held back the tears as you wrapped your hand around his.

“I love you, darling. Everything is going to be okay.”

Regulus nodded. He couldn’t focus on very much. Everything felt fuzzy and disconnected.

“Lay with me?”

Regulus questioned. You slowly removed your shoes and gently settled yourself beside Regulus. Taking extra care to not cause any pain, you reached up and stroked your hand through Regulus’ hair.

Sirius meanwhile stood watching the two of you with pain filled eyes. To the world, Regulus and yourself looked like two teenagers just starting their life together. No one saw what actually was….the incredibly smart and gifted young healer with the world at her feet and the boy who started life as cold unfeeling heir of the House of Black turned hero. No one saw what the two of you had been through and the unfortunate journey ahead. No one saw this but Remus and Sirius.

“Let's give them some privacy.”

Sirius finally commented before putting a hand on Remus’ arm. Remus turned to follow Sirius out before giving you one last look. He knew that you would need all of the support imaginable in the coming days. The days ahead would be dark but he would make sure that you didn’t go through them alone.

_____

@geeksareunique @jessyballet @knreidy1 @fific7 @justfinishthis @siriuslyceleste @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @rubyroscoe1 @dumbbunnys-safes @readtomeregulus @i-love-scott-mccall @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @s-we-e-t-t-ea @iluvthe-marauders @woohoney @abaker74 @regulus-black-223048 @saramaple @missgorldafirst @millies0bsimp @dumybitch @stelleduarte @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @bennyberry @f4iryluvy @panpride @haroldpotterson @mentally-unstable-hoe @goldensunshineshit @padf00ts-l0ver @un-lovesherself @marichromatic @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ravenhood2792 @emiwrites3reads @coffeeaddictednymph @livshifts @summer-novak @knight-of-gleefulness

[thegreatestsandwich]

I think it would be really cute if the reader goes to the dance with Xavier and before they enter, she quietly smoothes/fixes his tie because he couldn't do it perfectly the first time

I’d kiss you as the lights went down (Xavier Thorpe x f!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x f!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: You were so ready for Rave'N dance that you even took the time to look at videos on how to tie a tie properly

Warning: FLUFF and the reader being a completly sweetheart that must be protected and loved by all of us

A/N: At this point, I want to love him as much as I love Namor

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

You were so ready for this dance, you even went out of your way to pick the perfect dress and watch several (more than fifty-seven hours’ worth of) videos of how to do the perfect make up. Enid still demanded to be in charge of it. How to do the perfect hairstyle. Enid still demanded to be in charge of it. How to be able to walk in heels and not kill yourself in the moment. Enid wasn’t able to help you with that.

You even casually invited your boyfriend to the dance as your date.

You finished gluing the letters you carefully cut from Enid’s magazines to your cardboard. It wasn’t perfect, in fact, it looked like one of those serial murderer’s notes they mail to their victims families. Even Wednesday highly praised you at your skills.

“If whatever you decided to do after finishing this hell doesn’t work, you have a great opportunity as a serial killer.” She emotionless stated as she fetched the aromatic salts from her desk, walking towards the passed-out Enid.

“You think he’ll say yes?” You asked her as Wednesday crouched and place the small vial on Enid’s nose. “What if he says no?”

Wednesday stared at you. “He is your boyfriend.”

“He could still say no, y’know?” You shrugged, placing the cardboard on Enid’s bed. “Xavier it’s kinda like a wildcard.”

“He says no and I will cut his dick off his body and feed it to my spiders.”

You smiled. “That’s the most compliment-thingy you had ever said to me.”

“Don’t push it.”

You began pacing inside of his room, the cardboard firmly against your chest as you practiced how to asked him to the dance.

“Baby, you’ve been walking in circles for the last,” He checked his watch. “fifteen minutes, what’s going on? Am I missing something?”

You ignored him, completely absorbed on your mind.

‘Would you go to the dance with me?’ No, too bland.

‘Oh Xavier, my beautiful and sexy boyfriend, would you give me he honor to accompany me to the gracious event that is the dance?’ No, that would increase his already huge ego.

Xavier sighed, throwing himself on his bed, his arms covering his arms. “Baby, c’mon, I invited you here so you could do the thing you do with your hands, the scratching on my head, I want to nap.”

‘Xavier, you, me, dance, yes?’ Possibly, simple, direct. But not quite yet.

“Baby, c’mooooon.” He groaned.

“Shhh, I’m thinking.” You responded, not stopping with your pace.

“You are giving me a headache, and not a cool one.” He said, his eyes following your movements, “What’s with the cardboard anyway?”

“Shh, I’m thinking hard.” You ignored his complains. Why couldn’t you think of a cool way to ask him out? Why man are so difficult?

‘Because they are stupid.’ The voice of Wednesday sounded inside of your head. You halted your pacing and Xavier sighed in relief…but it didn’t last as you began pacing again.

“Did something happened?” He asked you. “Just tell me the name and I’ll hit him later after our nap, just come to the bed.”

“Xavier.” You said, making your way to him, climbing on his bed and sitting on his stomach, both of your legs at each of his side. His hands quickly grabbed your thighs, a huge smile on his face.

“Well, I’m not complaining on the change of plans.” He tried to sit up to kiss you but you force him back on his bed. He frowned. “Is this some kind of roleplay I don't know about?”

“Shut it stupid.” You close your eyes and nod at yourself. “I have this huge speech, so you better keep quiet and let me say it.”

He tapped playfully at your thighs. “I’m all ears babe. All yours.”

“Ugh, don’t call me babe, it remind me of a huge humanoid in the shape of a fetus.” You groaned, your hands quickly turning over your cardboard, Xavier read it and smiled in amusement. “Go to the dance with me.” You demanded.

He waited for a few seconds, watching your face. “Wait…that’s the whole speech?”  You nodded. “So you prepared for a whole fifteen minutes and you came up with that?”

You frowned. “You are being mean, asshole, if you don’t want to go with me just say so.”

Xavier sat up, carefully placing your cardboard behind him. “Baby, of course I will go with you, I mean if I didn’t want to then I wouldn’t had asked you last week.”

“You did?” You asked him confused. “When?”

It was his turn to stared at you. “Yes? Dude, I asked you when you decided to visit me into my archery practice? You even made fun of me because I didn’t have a cardboard to asked you out.”

Oh yeah, that happened.

You waited for him outside of your room, Enid and Wednesday already left minutes ago. You huffed as you saw the clock on the wall. Five minutes late, you were going to kill him.

“Wow.” A voice sounded behind you, you turned around and put your hands on your hips, your brow arching expectantly. “You look…”

“Amazing, I know.” You poke his chest with your finger. “You are late.”

Xavier laughed, “Baby, I’m only five minutes late, that isn’t late-late, it enters the category of fashionable late.” He offered his arm and you link yours with his. “Now c’mon, I bet that Kent has already spike the drinks or something.”

You hugged his arm and he kissed your hair. “Well shit, he doesn’t know what good alcohol is, no matter if I hit his face with it.”

Xavier shrugged. “Meh, don’t want you to get drunk though.”

“Why?” You asked him.

“Because you are a silent drunk, you totally ignore me and that breaks my feelings.” He cheekily smiled.

“Idiot.” You rolled your eyes.

“Love you more, baby.”

Xavier guide you towards the dance, everybody already dancing to the weird choice of music director Weems deemed good enough for this. You sighed but decided to just stick next to your boyfriend, who was more than happy to hold you closer to his body. That’s when you noticed his tie.

‘At least he made an attempt to do it himself.’ You thought as you separated yourself from him. Xavier frowned.

“Your tie sucks,” Your hands went to undo it quickly. He tried to stop you but you gently shushed him. “I’m doing it, I already learned how to.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, his eyes watching you with so much adoration. “When?”

“Since I asked you to the dance, youtube has lots and lots of videos on how to do it.”

Xavier watched you tie it, your fingers were a bit wobbly. Clearly you didn’t practice enough and at some point you became frustrated and decided to just make a bow.

“Done.” You simply said, hugging his waist once again.

“Thank you, my love.” He kissed your forehead and guide you to one of the tables, so you could take a few moments alone.

[manwrre]

i have been dreaming of a top gun:maverick!inspired harringrove fic for the past few days. esp since their usual dynamic is a cocky, self assured blonde and a wildly stupid + talented brunette so puhlease. if that doesn’t scream harringrove, i dunno what will.

imagine billy, whose dad got kicked outta the military on a bad conduct charge but never tells a soul—too ashamed and too proud and too angry to bear the weight of his actions. so instead, when he gets home to his wife and kid, he makes their lives a living hell and runs their home like a base.

0600 - wake up “because i won’t have any slobs living under my roof,”

0605 - leave behind a bed of perfectly creased corners or “sleep on the floor, since you want to live like an animal,”

0615 - start the chores or “starve. there’s no such thing as eating for free,”

“don’t talk back,”

“don’t ask questions,”

“you’re not a baby, billy— stop crying over toys.”

“are you some kind of fucking fairy? sit up straight.”

“you better not embarrass me, boy.”

and it only gets worse when billy’s mom finally ups and leaves. no amount of “yes, sir”s can save him from his father’s wrath and soon enough, rewards and punishments become all too similar; the line between them, blurry at best. neil’s love feels exactly the same as his hate and both leave heavy stamps of purple and blackish-blue near billy’s heart.

so by the time that billy’s eighteen and old enough to leave, he’s more decorated than most. has given up more than most. has endured a battle longer than that of most neighboring countries.

and he doesn’t really have a choice (if he wants to leave neil’s house) but to join the air force and so, that’s what he does. and billy’s done a lot to survive but flying? the thought of it makes him feel alive. and the notion is only cemented after he watches a p-51 mustang take off for the first time and his heart feels it’s been through 10gs of force.

so he becomes the goddamn best in his batch. he gets his degree in mechanical engineering. he gets to flight school and he’s glittering. he’s whip smart and confident and has the instincts to back it up. he’s tall and sun-kissed, blue-eyed and blonde-haired. and that alone has everyone on the squad calling him “johnny— like bravo, not the jackass.” paired with his sweet, little texan drawl, he’s charismatic and a total wildcard. he bitches and preens and leads but billy,

billy gets the job done. every single time.

doesn’t care who it pisses of. doesn’t care about kissing ass. and yet still, when there’s a particularly tough mission, the admiral knows that johnny boy is up for it.

regardless, he racks up a long list of avid followers and enemies.

so when he gets to hard deck a day before top gun training is meant to start, he’s not surprised to meet the latter of whom in the form of steve “beemer” harrington.

steve, who looks the same as he did in flight school all those years ago— golden and freckled just about everywhere. he fills out his shirt just right and if billy were closer, the coupla inches steve has on him would be more obvious.

“beemer, as i live and breathe.”

billy’s pleased to see steve’s eyes widen at the sight of him. smirks when he realizes he’s on the receiving end of the brunette’s sweeping gaze.

“johnny,” steve says, around the rim of his beer bottle. “you look…good.”

and oh, does that light him up.

billy’s careful though, to not let his face betray a single thing. instead, he grins a little wider. a little deeper; a little meaner.

“well, i am good, beemer.” he shrugs and plucks the pool cue out of carver’s grip.

he ignores the blonde’s huffing beside him and instead, leans forward to line the tip of it up behind the ball.

he knows the motion accentuates the long lines of his body. he knows that gravity favors him and the undone buttons on his shirt; gives a generous view of his naked chest.

“i’m very good.”

steve’s eyes flit between his and then, somewhere lower.

and billy snorts, lining up his aim; coiled tightly and precise. holds it for all of a second before the string snaps and he’s breaking the rack with a resounding, wooden clackclackclack.

“in fact, i’m too good to be true.”

and thereby starts their enemies to lovers trope! i’m talking heated looks in the locker room, post training tension, make out sessions in the otherwise empty gym. hanging out at each other’s on base accommodations and billy calling steve ‘bee.’ imagine them exchanging dog tags?? and steve getting all possessive when billy’s got his flight suit unzipped halfway and tied around his little waist. they’d be instructors together and show off in the air, driving everyone crazy. the perfect leader and wingman.

[myneurospicyspirit]

What Exactly Is Intention?

Disclaimer: I’m not sure how neurodivergent friendly this post is. I tried my best, but intention is (in my opinion) difficult to explain. I’m working on another post that I hope will be more “tangible” than this one, which might be better for people who struggle with more conceptual thinking. I do still recommend reading this post to see what you can get out of it AND giving feedback helps me understand how I can explain things better! As always, my inbox is open for those who have questions and I will do my best to help!

Introduction

"Shifting is all about intention." You hear the phrase again for the thousandth time in your journey.

"Well, what exactly is intention?" You ask.

Nobody seems to have a good answer to this question. They put together a bunch of words that are confusing and sometimes conflicting. I can't promise my explanation will be any better, BUT I'm going to try; my intention is to explain intention better!

Oxford Languages defines intention (noun) as "a thing intended; an aim or plan." 

Essentially, intention is the thought or idea of doing something. Thought and idea are the keywords here. Intention alone is a thought/idea; it does not guarantee an understanding of the thought/idea or taking action on the thought/idea.

You can have the intention to clean your room, but you still might not do it. You can eat your favorite food with the intention of it making you happy (and there's a good chance it will), but that doesn't automatically mean it will. You can set your intentions to shift. This doesn't mean that you will shift.

My neurodivergent self got fed up with this fast. My whole life, I have tried to have good intentions, but whether or not the results were good was a wildcard. I intend to help someone by sharing a similar experience, and I'm told that I only think about myself: good intention -> negative result. I mask to survive, then I burn out: good intention -> negative result. I intend to clean, and I never do: intention -> no results.

Thus, my base point: just having intention does not always result in things going as planned or getting the intended result.

(Note that this also applies to assumption… but that’s a post for a different time.)

Understanding Intention

Now let's see if I can re-frame an understanding of intention, because the truth is that intention is important and powerful. The problem is that people lack an understanding of intention!

Intention, as I mentioned before, is an aim or a plan. It is the thought/idea of a goal or the thought/idea of doing something. On its own, intention has little meaning (when it comes to things like shifting). This (I think) is where most people struggle with intention; they have intention but because their intention is just a thought/idea, it does not mean much. Intention must be given meaning through another thought/idea, acting on the thought/idea, or describing the thought/idea.

This can be further understood by remembering that the word “intention” is a noun. Nouns can be described by adjectives and given action by verbs. For example, “reality” is a noun that shifters use to indicate different places in the multiverse. By adding the word “desired,” an adjective, in front, the word reality is given deeper meaning; “desired reality” is a place that is wanted. The phrase “I am shifting” gives action to the noun “I.” “I am…” what are you doing? “Shifting”!!! The verb “shifting” gives the noun “I” something to do, thus giving it more meaning.

(Note: this next paragraph may be very confusing as it is about intention as a concept - an abstract idea. You do not have to read it in order to understand the rest of the post. Feel free to skip it if you don't think it will help you!)

Another understanding of intention comes from the understanding that intention is a concept - an abstract and generalized idea. For example, a “chair” can be understood as an object that is made to seat a singular person. It doesn't matter the material, color, size, etc. as long as “chair” remains as a concept. But if you wanted to picture a chair in your head, you'd have to consider much more: what material is it made of? Does it have a back rest? Arm rests? Is it tall or short? All of these extra features give the chair a further meaning and purpose. A beach chair is much different in form and function than an office chair which is different from a bean bag chair. The concept of intention is the same as the concept of a chair; it is simply an idea until you make it something more.

Intention does not have any inherent meaning or purpose on its own. You have to give intention meaning. Only when intention means something does it have power.

Giving Intention Meaning

Once you HAVE intention, you can give it meaning by describing it, acting upon it, and having a true understanding of your intention. The way to do this is by understanding what it means to be intent, intentional, and doing things intentionally.

To understand how to describe intention through intent, let’s first look at definitions. Oxford Languages defines the adjective of intent in 2 different ways. The first is most fitting: Resolved or determined to do (something). Attentively occupied with. So have intent intentions; be determined and feel determined about your intentions - be determined in your aim or plan. Feel your intention.

Be intentional in your intention. From Oxford Languages, “intentional” is an adjective meaning “done of purpose; deliberate.” This is another way to describe intention - by making them purposeful. When you think about your intention, understand every word that you are saying, what that idea really means, why you are thinking about it, etc.

Intentional also relates to the adverb “Intentionally,” defined by Oxford Languages as "deliberately; on purpose." Intentionally set your intentions by deliberately setting intentions; when you aim or plan, do it on purpose and with purpose. 

Apply intent, being intentional, and doing things intentionally when you set intentions. These are the things that give your intention further meaning - they make your intention stronger!

A Short Example

Let's say you're wanting to shift tonight. You tell yourself “My intention is to shift tonight” and/or “I intend to shift tonight”. Thus, you plan to shift tonight/ you are aiming to shift tonight. Say your intention, write them down, or think it deliberately, keeping in mind what those words mean; be intentional in your intention. Add some more to that intention by stirring up determination; have your mind set on your intention. This is adding intent. When you go to do your method, do each step with the purpose of helping you shift - do your method Intentionally. If you don't do a method, Intentionally follow through with your intention to shift.

Conclusion/Summary 

Intention is just an idea, and it is pointless until YOU give it some kind of meaning.

You can give intention meaning through determination in your aim or plan. This is being intent on your intention.

You can give intention meaning by being deliberate in your intention. This is being intentional in your intention.

Your intention will be stronger if it has deeper meaning, understanding, and purpose.

[stxrmylxve]

Before I send more of just Kazutora, I have a thought: Chifuyu, Baji, Draken, Kazutora, and Mitsuya (each separately) with an extremely clumsy S/O. I'm talking like, they trip over completely flat surfaces, and when they do, they continue to trip for a while before they actually fall. Bumping into things all the time, slipping on ice, slamming themselves into doors because they're too excited or panicked about something and aren't stopping to think. This S/O falls over their own freaking feet, and has been heard thudding down stairs before (take my own clumsiness as an example, I once lost my footing on stairs and when I landed at the bottom of them flat on my behind as a teen, I just sat there, till my parents asked if I was okay and I yelled about the stairs being a problem for me lmao).

Somehow I picture this as more of a headcanon scenario, but little blurbs could go with it too for each of them, if you feel up to it! :3

Kazutora:

he doesn’t really react tbh

it’s normal for you, and he normally ends up doctoring you up anyways

he does stifle a laugh tho

ultimately, it is the subject of a tease he will shoot at you later on

if someone else makes a comment about it, he shoots them a dirty look

he does get worried sometimes and legit hugs your side in case you trip on something random

”You must be head over heels for me, huh?”

Chifuyu:

gets so worried he might even trip himself too

constantly watches you out of the corner of his eye

a good s/o, but a worrisome one

he hates seeing you hurt, that’s all :(

he sometimes asks baji for random help, bugging him about what to ask, how to help

and obviously baji has no idea either

but nonetheless, he asks if he can do anything, to which you have no clue either since you’re just so used to being clumsy-

Draken:

i’m sorry i think he is just a menace 😭

he might make a satire joke, go on full on panic mode, or make a joke so sexual it makes you blush crimson red

he is a bit of a wildcard

but he asks your family if you have it in your genes to fall and trip constantly

he does worry, but he facepalms most of it because you somehow have the skill to trip on literal air

Baji:

the first time you fell, you blushed so hard he took you to chifuyu’s house so that you could get ‘fixed’

from there on, he asked for help from chifuyu

doesn’t really understand that you just.. are clumsy

like he is clumsy too, but in a way that he might ‘accidentally’ punch someone or might leak a plan and might get hurt by that

so he somehow formulated in his head that you needed to get fixed by chifuyu if you ever fell

he normally just bandaged you up, not doing anything amazing or special

Mitsuya:

he can’t help but to laugh

he is used to seeing falling people, he has two little sisters after all

he doesn’t mind bandaging you up, or talking to you if you’re crying from a bad fall

he is always there for you, even if all you need is a bandair

gives those cliché moments all the time and kisses to boo boo to make the pain go away 🥹

legit the perfect guy for a clumsy person, fight me

[nero-vanderwolf]

March 5th, 2011 

Tatsumi Port Memorial Hospital 

“What do you mean transferred!?” 

Yukari Takeba stands in the hallway of the hospital, quivering. It is graduation day, and the old members of S.E.E.S, after an hour of debate, have agreed to come visit the Arisato twins to tell them and catch them up on the goings-ons of the city. 

Only to find out that the twins had been transferred to a different hospital. 

“Takeba-san, please calm down! Kirijo-sama approved it!” The doctor pleads, and Yukari turns her wrath and despair upon her girlfriend, the esteemed head of the Kirijo group. 

“You approved it!? Why!?” She demands, eyes flashing. Mitsuru remains ever calm, gently placing a hand on Yukari’s shoulder. 

“They were running out of room in the LTAC, and their conditions were stable, so I had them transferred to Inaba Muncipal Hospital- they had plenty of open rooms to take care of the twins.” 

Fuuka hums thoughtfully, her head tilted slightly like she would when using Juno back in the days of the Dark Hour and Tartarus. Both eradicated thanks to the sacrifice of the twins. “Inaba, huh...? That isn’t too far from here. Maybe we can visit once we’re all settled down and free?” 

Aigis nods, staring wistfully at the door to the Arisatos’ old room. She had been looking forward to seeing them for a week, planning to visit them immediately after the ceremony to tell them she had graduated alongside Yukari, Junpei, Fuuka and Shinjiro (and to tell them he had to redo his third year because of everything. They’d probably poke fun at him, but be proud nonetheless that he made the choice- and succeeded in it.) 

“Yes,” she says, really not paying attention. “Maybe.” 

April 11th, 2011 

Inaba Muncipal Hospital 

In Inaba, a boy arrives to town after dreaming of a long-nosed man and a bright blue limousine. He shakes the hand of a goddess at a gas station, and is awakened to the powers of the Wildcard. 

Across town, two Wilcards open their eyes as the hands of the boy and goddess meet. Their hands find each other in their own handshake, their hearts racing in unison and their chests rising and falling as though they share a pair of lungs. 

They remain like that until a nurse comes in and tells a doctor. In three days’ time, they will be discharged and sent with all their belongings to a house bought and paid for by a company called the Kirijo group. 

Perhaps the Dark Hour does have some perks. 

June 5th, 2011 

Junes Food Court

“Man... I’m not the only one who thinks those two from our third year are weird as hell, am I?” 

Yosuke lounges back in his chair at the special headquarters, melon soda in his hand. 

Chie shakes her head. “No, it isn’t just you for once. I know I can’t really judge, but... Isn’t it kinda strange how they just sorta showed up one day?” 

“Uh... You’re talkin’ about the Arisato-senpais, right?” Kanji asks, and Souji nods. 

“They were comatose for a while, but woke up the day I got here. I don’t know much about it, but... They seem nice.” 

He glances away, not mentioning his social link with them. They really are quite nice, always giving him advice and sometimes even offfering to train with him when they aren’t busy beating the crap out of each other on the outskirts of town near their house. 

But they also seem to know more about him than they let on. Makoto sometimes mentions the arcana of one of the members of the team, and Kotone often mentions her old senpais and Shadows. 

It’s disconcerting, to say the least, and paired with their own arcana... 

He makes a mental note then, as he remembers, to talk to Igor about it. Ask him what in the hell the Universe arcana means, and if he needs to worry about it. 

He snaps back to reality as Yukiko begins to talk. 

“I’m not one for gossip, but don’t you think it’s a little strange how they always seem to be training with those weapons of theirs? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it, of course! It’s just...” 

“It’s just that it’s all the time, right? I get it. Sure, they’re our senpais, but there’s no harm in just talking about their weird  behaviour between ourselves, right?” Yosuke says, chair squeaking beneath him. 

“Oh, here they come now!” Chie says, and begins digging into her steak. Souji looks up from his soda to see Kotone-senpai shouting to Makoto-senpai. 

“Come on, hurry up! You’re the one who neglected studying!” 

Makoto-senpai slouches further, shoving one hand into his pocket. His headphones dangle from his neck, swinging with his every movement. Kotone-senpai’s own mirror his, bouncing wildly with her erratic movements as she practically drags him to a chair. 

“Kotone, is this really necessary? I mean, Gekkoukan’s exams are way harder, and we’re both...” 

Their voices fade into the background of Souji’s mind. Something isn’t right. TV static fades in and out as he zones out, wracking his brain for the source of this sudden gut feeling. 

It started exactly when he became aware of the twins and their existence. Somehow, he feels a terrifyingly strong presence from them, as though the bond he’s formed with them isn’t just affecting his abilities. 

But that shouldn’t be possible, a little voice inside tells him. Neither of them have a Persona. 

But what if they did, he thinks. What if they did have Personas, what if they knew about what the team is doing? 

“—Earth to Souji, do you copy?” 

Souji looks up from the table, blinking as Yosuke retracts his hand. 

“Hm? Sorry, I... Zoned out there. What’s up?” He says, playing it off. Playing off the sick feeling roiling in his gut, the sudden fight-or-flight that rises in his throat and threatens to choke him. He needs to visit the TV world. He needs to blow off some steam, he needs to get up and do something before he explodes. 

“We were asking if you had anything planned for this afternoon. Y’know, in case we wanted to do a bit of, uh, browsing,” Yosuke says. Souji silently thanks his partner, catches his eye and tries to convey his gratitude with his gaze. Yosuke just grins a bit, and it sends butterflies fluttering in his stomach- which quickly get disintegrated by the venom bubbling there. 

“Sure, let’s go browsing. Might be fun,” he says, shrugging off the feelings. 

As the group head down towards the electronics section, Souji swears he can feel two pairs of eyes watching him leave. 

P3 x P4 CONTENT WOOOOOO!!! the arisato twins being tranferred to inaba after the whole nyx situation and souji just. feels so weird towards them. they're the fucking UNIVERSE arcana?!!! WHAT IS HE SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT INFORMATION. and hes just so confused that these random transfer students have this much power radiating from them?? they seem completely normal but souji is so focused on them since they're such an anomaly....

[sysboxes]

what are some weird food concoctions (example: m&ms on pizza) that yall like? And what’re some weird drink concoctions?

(a cultural thing that is regarded as “weird” by others counts)

and is there a backstory to why you like the food and drink? Like is it a childhood thing, something a loved one liked, something you just randomly discovered, something passed down by generations, etc

mod wonder - for weird drink concoctions, i love mixed drinks, like cranberry and apple juice or a variety of soda mixes. for food, depends on what you’d count as weird. oh except, don’t cancel me for this, i eat damp cheerios. i can’t have liquid milk, or any kind, but hard cheerios are sometimes too dry for me, so i add a little tiny bit of water to make them damp, but not full on wet. i also eat matzah with charoset or butter, which isn’t really weird, but might be to someone who’s not jewish

Mod Luxray 🐈‍⬛️⚡️- OKOK SO FOOD watermelon, Tajin, creole seasoning, and whipped cream[cool whip works best], mush it all up and freeze it, you get a sweet with a slight spice sorbet-icecream ass things its SO GOOD. Drinks have to be Lime Jarritos, brisk ice tea-lemonade, and milk/cream, creates a cream soda type thing, back story for both is my mommas friend growin up would always make these for me while i was in the hospital, which was alot, so its become something of a comfort food

Mod Avon 📖 - Lmao I just talked about wildcard sodas! Love that. But for me, I don’t tend to go too wild on concoctions (the autism texture thing goes hard for me). People get upset with me over gummy bears in blended custards though. Like those blended custards at Rita’s? Love gummy bears in those. It reminds me of the good memories I still have of my family.

Mod Jester 🖍 - Not really sure if it’s weird but we love mac and cheese and peas so much. We first thought it was weird when our mom introduced it to us but we tried and loved it. The texture is mainly why we keep going back to it.

Mod Weeping ❤️ - Mac and cheese and peas, mac and cheese and plain lays or salt and vi what lays in between bread (Mac and cheese chip sandwhich 😎), mayo on peas-, spaghetti and peas, and chicken sandwhich with mac and cheese (preferably baked mac and cheese tho?). Mac and cheese and peas was a childhood thing, the Mac and cheese and chip sandwhich was something my brother and I made up, the mayo on peas is something my hip moms family taught me and they called it “cowboy peas” and said it was a southern USA thing but I have never met another person who did this so they may have been lying lmfao, spaghetti and peas was something an upstairs neighbor did and we had to eat it or not eat basically-, the mac and cheese chicken sandwhich was bc of that Chick-fil-A TikTok hack that went around for a bit. Also, and this is a PICA thing that we just never stopped doing, those fucking paper lollipop sticks bro- also some middle eastern foods and thing that ppl generally dont like in the USA unless they’re from there? Various things we ate bc we had PICA as a kid but I don’t count those. And then drinks idk. (Fuck that was so long sorry-). Oh wait- also something a little in our Sys likes- is these wack ass snack concoctions she makes of really spicy chips plus sweet cereal (like O’s) plus something more “plain” like pretzel balls she picks the salt off of

mod plush 🌻 — unfortunately i’m a very average food concoctor. fries and milkshakes, ketchup in mac and cheese (bonus if it’s cheeseburger mac), etc. if you asked me what foods i didn’t like, well, we could be here for hours…

[twistnet]

behave [ robert hicks ]

⋯ KINKTOBER PROMPT ; day 31 [ wildcard ]

⋯ WARNINGS ; afab!reader, smut [ authority kink, orgasm denial, fingering, begging, bent over the desk sex, rough sex, cum ] + mature language

⋯ NOTE ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post // masterlist will be blocked

all it had taken was a look. and that look had told you everything that was running through that man’s head, and exactly what he was going to do to you the second he was able to get you alone.

the time he was able to get you alone, was just after your team had been ended their shift. you had been walking out with another teammate when commander hicks had asked to speak with you for a moment. your teammate had shot you an apologetic look before bidding you goodbye and leaving you to the mercy of your commander.

he had quickly ushered you into his office, promptly locking each of his doors before finally turning to you, “do you understand that in this line of work, following orders is the thing that keeps you safe?” his tone is already bitter and laced with anger.

“i don’t know if you were just being plain stupid, or if you were actually wanting to disregard the orders given to you. but you ever disobey a direct order again you’ll be off your team faster than you can blink. and don’t think because of our relationship that you’ll be getting any sort of free pass.”

“why? have you been looking for a way to get me off my squad so we don’t have to sneak around so much?” the words practically tumble out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, but you’re honestly proud given the way he seems to react -- growling your name as a fire lights behind his eyes.

“besides, you have a first hand account of just how good i follow orders.” you purr, teasing smile spreading across your lips as robert scoffs, “then, i wonder why you fail to follow orders in a regular setting? maybe because you’re a brat and you know you won’t be rewarded in the way you want.”

the atmosphere was tense, and just as you opened your mouth that would possibly dig you into a deeper hole, robert had just sighed and motioned you over to his desk. and with a huff, you followed his order and came around to his desk.

a large hand pressed between your shoulder, guiding you chest down against the top of the desk, “hands stay flat on the desk.” the order was gruff, but you followed it completely, pressing your hands flat against the wood.

robert hums from behind you, “wish you would follow orders like this in the field.” and pinching your side when you open your mouth to say something back. the words failing in your throat when nibble fingers pull at your pants, pushing them down the length of your legs and letting them fall around your knees.

you jump when rough pads brush against your already soaked folds -- something robert makes an almost annoyed noise but says nothing else. his fingers continue to slip until he finds your clit, and circles it slowly. mewls fall from your lips, hips jutting back into his hold. yet, a hand roughly grips your hip to keep you in place.

he continues to your clit until, you wiggle, small pleas falling from your lips to get something a little more. and robert agrees, sliding two fingers into your soaked cunt and nearly groaning at how tight you are around his digits.

he sets a steady pace, padding at that little spot deep inside you with each thrust of his fingers. and despite the hand at your hip, you manage to roll your hips back just enough to met each movement of his fingers. 

and just as your about to fall over the edge, cunt already clenching hard around his fingers, he pulls away. leaving you empty and unsatisfied, “w-what? why’d you stop?” you whimper, hips jutting back to find something to relieve the pressure between your legs, “this is a punishment, sweetheart. or did you forget that you disobeyed a direct order in the field?”

“i’m sorry... i’m sorry.” you cry, tears already starting to brim your eyes as you turn to look over your shoulder at him, trying to give him your best pleading eyes as he huffs at you, “what are you going to do?”

“i’m going to follow orders in the field, just like i do in here.” you whimper out, bottom lip trembling just as robert leans over to press a hard kiss to your lips. there’s a rustle of fabric behind you, and robert’s belt clanking open.

there’s a quick dribble of spit joining his hand as he strokes himself, before he steps between you spread legs and slides into you until he bottoms out.

robert groans heavily, letting you get use to the stretch of his cock before he starts anything. your needy squeezes around his cock tell him when you’re ready. then he rocks his hips, pushing deeper into you before withdrawing, and rocking back in with a punctuated thrust. you gasp as if the all the air had left your lungs as robert sets a deliberate pace of steady and rough thrusts.

you whimper and mewl as the coil in your belly tightens each time you jut your hips back to meet each thrust. robert moans behind you, fingers digging into the flesh at your hips as he picks up his pace. pounding into you over and over until you’re sobbing against the desk top.

he feels you tighten around him, squeezing him like a vice before he’s spilling in you with a low moan, feeling your own orgasm wash over the two of you as he strokes himself a few more times to empty himself fully.

lips press against the side of your face, sweet murmurings falling from robert’s lips as his hands rub at your hips before helping you up and tugging you into his chest.

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[lethe-herbal-tea]

10, 17, 31 and 34 for the ask game <3

Uhhh ok so:

10. I’m not, the best at remembering the specifics of quotes but I do remember the vibes I got, and the vibes from “And in their hands, the daggers” were immaculate. GRRM is really great at giving each of his chapters cliffhanger ending that really make me want to continue reading on and maybe because this is the cliffhanger from most recently published book and it’s the most fresh in my mind or because it’s been a big motivator in keeping me waiting for Winds, this quote quickly became my favourite. Also I just think this quote really effectively shows how good GRRM is at capturing the final thoughts of his characters before their deaths.

17. Favourite theme has got to be Identity, it just works so well with the world of ASOIAF and the societal standards of Westeros where we watch a bunch of characters with deeply embedded identities based off of their social status, gender, sexuality, and family, and how they fundamentally affect how they view the world and see their future. And how all of this radically changes as their identity is stripped away from them and they’re forced to adapt to the new world they’re thrust into on threat of death.

31. Is a bit of a toughie, generally I feel like we need a pov in the Reach/House Tyrell cus they seem like they could be such a wildcard at present and it also seems like we already have all the POVs necessary to represent all of the major areas and factions in Westeros EXCEPT for Tyrell/The Reach. I don’t think it should be one of the more popular/important Tyrells (Olenna, Margaery, Loras (Though Loras could be fun as a one-off as like a mini/young-Jaime parallel)) if I were to pick I’d say it’d maybe have to be Garland, I think he’d be a really good POV in witnessing the Horrors Euron is planning on unleashing on the Reach.

34. Probably that everyone thinks Sansa is a spoilt brat when she literally receives the big standard upbringing and treatment of any girl of her status in her time period. Never once does she receive any sort of favouritism or special treatment from her parents, frequently her interests are ignored or brushed off by Ned (not blaming Ned for this I am anything BUT a Ned hater he just struggles relating to his more feminine child and experiences a LOT of family based trauma). She excels at fulfilling the gender roles she’s being raised into yes, and receives praise over this but like, that’s literally it? I really don’t understand how some people will see a child receiving praise over being able to do a duty their whole life is culminating toward and jump to the conclusion that that child is outrageously spoilt. Yes Sansa early on can act like a bit of a brat and sometimes exhibits warped perceptions of reality and social class but it MUST be remembered that none of this is due to any kind of coddling of beyond standard sheltering in her childhood, it is largely due to how EVERY noble girl is raised in those days, she is in no way behind her peers/siblings in terms of skill or development, as a matter of fact I’d say she’s directly on track for the kind of development standardly experienced by girls in her position. It’s not her fault she went down south with minimal skills necessary for the situations she would find herself in because literally no one saw them coming, she’s ELEVEN.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Can you dona fanfic where Dorothy experences sexism at a ball (because she sleeps all the time and shes a woman a noble thinks shes lesser than the other captains) and she puts the person in their place (i headcanon Dorothy as somewhat of a wildcard like gets back at people through pranks and sneaky ways)

Can you also put the other captains reactions ?

Hello~! ^^

I haven't written enough for Dorothy, I think. So, I'm glad to have an opportunity to do so, and I do hope that you like the result. Though, for me, Dorothy isn't as much "sneaky" as she is... playful. She has that glimmer in the corner of her eye~

Fanfic type: Headcanons Genre: General Warnings: Sexism at play at Dorothy, but she does put the guy in his place Characters: Main focus on Dorothy Unsworth (+other captain reactions mentioned) Length: ~0.6k

There was a ball for the nobility of Clover, which all captains were to attend as well, since they were the height of society, in a manner of speaking. Though it was generally agreed that some captains fit the bill better than others. But even if said individuals wouldn’t have fit the bill, the fact that they were considered as the strongest battle mages in the kingdom bought them a pass, if they wanted to use it.

Yami used his to get the Bulls sneaking food from the castle pantry, and Jack used it to get a ticket to the buffet table, while most of the others just went by the function as usual. Which for Dorothy  meant that she slept.

Though she was present and on her feet, she was quite clearly sleeping. And to those who weren’t familiar with her, thought it to be nothing more than a more elaborate form of sleep walking, where was utterly blind to her surroundings.

“Look at that, a captain unable to stay awake. This is why they shouldn’t allow women to become captains,” one noble man chose to ridicule while standing next to her, while being out if Charlotte’s line of hearing.

Little did he know, that despite being asleep, Dorothy was well aware of what went on around her. She might have been a little bit slower to react, and not have the full repertoire of her spell in use, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t hear.

So, she opened her eyes, slowly, and smiled as her eyes were still to the ground. “My dreams are what make me strong,” while casting a spell. A small spell, nothing more than a tinge of mana.

But the man just scoffed.

“And I would think that I’m better… suited to be here than you are,” she smirked while glancing at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked with a quirked eyebrow, while all around remained clueless.

Dorothy looked up and down at him while still wearing that grin of hers, which made him follow her gaze, and see himself in nothing but his boxers.

It was all just an illusion, experienced only by him of course, but he didn’t know as much. But instead started spewing, what seemed to be nonsense to all other around, and sheepishly ran away from the ballroom as Dorothy giggled.

The words didn’t hurt her, not really anyways. Because she was a witch, and she knew her worth. She wasn’t any lesser than any man, and that was one of the few, if not only, lesson of her mother’s that she had taken as her own.

But it didn’t mean that she couldn’t have a little harmless fun at the expense of someone who thought less of her~

Yami heard about it afterwards, and laughed his lungs out, as did Jack and Rill. Charlotte was angry at the man, muttering under her breath, but proud of Dorothy. Kaiser maintained his composure and thought it to be fitting, because Dorothy was a good mage and no lesser than the others, while Nozel kept quiet but thought about how nobles who have never as much as seen a field of battle wouldn’t last a day in Dorothy’s shoes, and Fue spoke a few lines about how a person’s strength can’t be judged from the surface alone and how Dorothy had earned her position. And William, he chuckled under his breath at what had happened, while knowing that Dorothy didn’t need anyone to defend her per se. But it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t stick up for her, if there’d be a need for it.

[halestrom]

Oh, oh! 😧/📓/🃏 for Angsty John!

😧 What are you worried about with this fic?

So, I started writing this because I've never really written true angst, and I was in a negative headspace bc I was tired and so I wanted to try it. And so I just sat down, and started writing it and as a result, I feel like I'm being mean and I'm not used to it, and it did help, so then I drew it back a little bit. So mostly, at this point I'm worried that it's a bit of an 'easy' fix, I say as if I don't have like 20k moreish to write. Maybe more.

And, it deals with John post canon and what I consider to be him in a depression, but its not something I have experience with and so that's always complicated. Because I know its not a one and done fix, and so I want to make sure that comes across that john might be better, but it's something he's always going to have to watch out for.

📓 Share an out-of-context sentence or fragment from your fic notes

'It was hard to communicate with your wife when you wanted your best friend.'

🃏 Wildcard, dealer's choice: share a snippet, a thought, a concern, a feeling, anything you like!

So, one thing I also wanted to address in this fic was how poorly I think Jennifer was handled in season 5, especially when she turned into nothing more than a trophy, and I am kinda loving her in this, shes coming into her own and a lot sassier and settled. And I like it? Even if a lot of it happens in the background.

And while, overall this story is about John, it's also about everyone else because they all make the decision to save John and just go when he's in trouble. And this bit is from a moment between Rodney and Jennifer as they're getting ready to save John and I just really really like it.

Also, Jennifer and John end up as super bitchy friends to each other and its fine.

Jennifer sighed. “I,” she stopped and shook her head. “Listen. When we were doing all of those dinners and going out, you were so nice, and I was nice as well because we had to be to all of those people, but then as soon as we were beamed back you started yelling at people—”

“—I’m not going to yell at you,” Rodney interrupted.

Jennifer held up a hand, stopping him from talking. “I know, and I appreciate that. I do. But it’s not that you were yelling it’s that suddenly you seemed more like you than you had been.”

Rodney opened his mouth, wanting to argue against the point but Jennifer stopped him with a look he had never seen before outside of the moments when people had been injured and she had been in her element. Directing everything around her so people got the treatment as quickly as they could.

“And the thing is, I want that for me,” Jennifer said, crossing her arms in front of her chest and lifting her chin. “I…look. You’ve met my Dad. He’s got some old-fashioned ideas about everything.”

Rodney nodded slowly, remembering the interrogation her Dad had given him when he had met the man for the first time. If Rodney hadn’t spent the better part of his life working for General’s he would’ve caved under the man’s direct, no-nonsense questions. “What does that have to do…?”

Jennifer shook her head. “I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to give up my career to become a stay-at-home Mom.”

Rodney frowned. “I’d never ask you to do that.”

That got Jennifer to smile and step closer, resting a hand on Rodney’s arm. “I know, and it’s one of the things I love about you. But the problem is I want to focus on my job, especially if I get to keep it on Atlantis. And I want to focus on my research because I really think I have a shot at helping you guys defeat the wraith. I want to do the things that I love, and it’s not fair to either of us to wait around and see if you like the version of me that I also like.”