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rimunagenius · 1 month

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Good Game

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Cheerleader!reader

ʚ word count: 1.3k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , otherwise none.

ʚ request: anon ask; “are you down to make a kate martin x cheerleader reader?”

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: here’s another request! i love that you guys are sending requests, and i’m glad that i’m the one you’re choosing to ask to write them! thank you so much for liking what i write, truly unbelievable. Also, I’m making my way through my inbox so from now on, my fics will most likely be request, so feel free to drop some more, but also, please be patient as i continue to do so! enjoy!

"Good job, Martin!" You yelled at you waved your pom poms infront of you, engaging in your cheer, but looking to the side as the Iowa women's basketball team ran down the tunnel for half time.

You gave her the biggest smile, getting one in return. "Thank you!" She grabbed a cup of water and ran down the tunnel following her teammates.

Usually that's how all of your interactions went. A 'good job' or 'you're doing great' here and there. Kate was your favorite on the team. She was tall, pretty, kind, and really damn good at playing ball. What's there not to like about her? You always mentioned her to your cheer friends; they evolved to trying to start up conversations with Kate and bring you into it.

It helped that one of your bestfriends was on the basketball team, too. You and Kylie met on your first day at Iowa University. You two have been inseparable since then.

So every game, you'd get to just a little bit early, hitching a ride with Kylie, and she knew full well why you did it. There was the off chance that you'd talk to Kate. They normally had shoot around, and the cheer team would get there just a half hour later to start warm ups and make sure the music was working.

You valued your time before every home game. That's why Kylie made sure to make you bump into Kate on your way into the big game tonight.

"Hey, Kate!" Kylie shouted to the blonde ahead. She turned around, her long blonde hair twisting as she turned to look at you and Kylie.

"Hey! Oh, Hi!" Kate greeted her teammate, and then greeting you, with a side hug. She was much taller this close than from the sideline to baseline view. Your knees were weak.

"Hey! You excited for tonight?" You beamed, you were also excited for tonight. The big Iowa vs. UConn game for the final four spot.

"Yeah, super. Your cheering tonight?" Kate knew the answer, she just didn't know what to say because you made her nervous. You could tell by the way her cheeks reddened immediately after asking.

"Yeah, I am. That's why I came with Kylie." You turned to point to your friend, only to find she left. You look up ahead and see her walking with Sydney down the hall towards the lockerroom. "Oh, nice." You whispered as you turned back to Kate.

Your cheeks turning pink just by the sheer height difference. "Nice, you're gonna cheer for me right? Your favorite on the team obviously." She bumped your shoulder, making you laugh.

"I will cheer for you, but only out of obligation. Y'know, I didn't get a full ride for nothing." Your sarcasm eliciting a small giggle from the tall blonde.

"Haha, very funny." Kate looked ahead, catching Kylie peak her head out of the lockerroom doorway, immediately blushing harder.

"Kylie's actually my favorite, but i'll make an acception for the cute golden retriever." You smiled up at Kate, tossing a small strand of hair up playfully, her smile widening some more.

"Yay, the cute cheerleader loves me." She bumped your shoulder again, both of you walking into the lockerroom like big grinning idiots. Kylie definitely texts you after you walk out with your headphones she had in her bag, asking how it went.

You walked onto the court, a couple of your teammates here already, smiling at your phone while you told Kylie what happened. You then didn't fail to talk about it all the way until the girls started warms ups. You didn't want to get caught talking about a minor interaction between your literal crush.

"Wait, stop. I think Kate likes you, babe." Your teammate literally stopped you dead in your tracks. You didn't know if you heard that correctly. You hoped you did.

"No, stop it. No she doesn't." You looked over, and sure enough Kate had been looking at you. You both gave eachother a small smile before resuming to your respective duties.

"Girl, she's been looking over here every thirty seconds. Of course she likes you." You smiled softly, thanking the cheer gods that your uniform looked so good on you. Seriously, you were glad you were confident enough to strike up a conversation. She was so pretty you didn't think you'd be able to do it.

"Okay, stop telling me that or that's all i'll think about all night, and I don't want to forget our cheers. Especially the half time performance." You sighed as you walked off the court, to do stationary stretches, while the girls used the full court to do warm up drills.

Now it was your turn to stare. You watched her as she moved in sync with her team. Fully enamored by the way she moved, communicated, and played with her team.

During the game, was no different. You’d watch her play, literally just watched her. Something about her was just so intriguing. You couldn’t look away.

She’d look to you, smile and continue to play her game. She would try and hide the smile when she heard you scream ‘let’s go 20’ and hasn’t stopped thinking about it. She thought about it all the way through the second half, and completely into half time.

She wished she could watch the halftime performance, wanting to watch you do your thing, in that pretty uniform, the skirt that fit you perfectly. You two had seemed to be totally enamored with eachother it was driving you both nuts.

After the game, the team went into the tunnel, for the normal post game talk. You were nervous to sit in, Coach Bluder allowing you to sit and listen since Kylie was your ride and you were just minding your own business. The lockerroom was fairly big, you finding a spot infront of a locker, scrolling through tiktok with your headphones on. You hadn’t known the huddle was over until someone was approaching you.

Looking up, you met the perfect blue eyes yet again. You looked up and saw you were sitting at her locker. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll just—“ You started talking and got up when she had already reached for her towel on the top shelf. Your bodies were pressed against eachother, eyes looking into the others, your breath mixing together.

“Oh..uh. Sorry!” Kate said, sidestepping to let you pass. Both your cheeks were red and demeanor suddenly timid and bashful. The things you two did to eachother.

You neeed her number.

She needed your number.

You then stood by Kylie’s locker, waiting for her to finish up, her opting to shower at her home, and then before walking out, you turned around and walked up to Kate. You didn’t know if it was the confidence of Iowa winning the game, the adrenaline running super high. But either way, you were doing it.

It was now or never. You liked her, and wanted to talk to her longer than short conversations before and after games. Getting closer, you tapped her on her shoulder. Her eyes wide, a soft puppy look on her face, god your knees were weak. “Hey!” She smiled as she put her basketball shoes in her bag, sliding her feet into her slides.

“Hey! So, you can totally say no, but I wanted to know if I could get your number?” You smiled nervously at the blonde, her smile growing wider.

“Yeah, of course. Here.” She handed you her phone, letting you type in your number, sending a quick text so you could save her number in your phone. Feeling your phone vibrate, you thank her and handed her her phone back.

Her now standing infront of you, you decided to kiss her cheek. Her face immediately turning a light shade of red. She rubbed the back of her neck softly, before looking down at her feet and then back up to you.

“Good game tonight, Martin.” You turned heel, and walked out the door leaving her absolutely stunned. She could not wait to text you tonight.

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 10 months

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reader pronouns: she/her

"Alright. All done," Denise said, carefully snipping the thread close to the last stitch she'd placed near Daryl's shoulder. "You're all set. Now do me a favor and don't rip through these, keep them dry, and don't do anything reckless for at least two weeks," she begged him.

Daryl was fingering a hex nut on a long, thin strip of cording around his neck but quickly started pulling his shirt back on. "Can't make any promises," he drawled, causing Denise to roll her eyes.

"What is that, by the way?" she asked him, nodding toward the unusual necklace. "I've never seen that before."

It disappeared beneath Daryl's black shirt as he buttoned it up but a small smile touched his lips and his eyes were soft. "S'just somethin' Y/N gave me for our—our anniversary, I guess. When I first met her, she came by Aaron's when I was workin' in the garage. She was lookin' for a hex nut to repair her bicycle," he laughed. "Bike didn't last much longer after that, long story. But she took the damn nut off and kept it for some fuckin' reason, maybe because she already knew that we'd be... somethin'. She knew way before my dumb ass figured it out. Anyway, she gave it back to me and said it's because I hold her together. Makes sense, 'cause she holds me together too."

Denise smiled fondly at Daryl. "I'm glad you two found each other."

Daryl hopped off the edge of the gurney he'd been sitting on and smiled. "Me too. And tha's the understatement of the century."

Requested by: anon!

#daryl dixon requests #anon requests #anonymous #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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nebbyy · 10 days

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I have a request, if youre taking them.

Baldwin's wife sneaks into the battle in 1177 with sixteen year old Baldwin, his reaction and what not. make it your own, just thought this would be cool

King Baldwin x reader - My archangel

A/N: I absolutely LOVE this idea! I've never thought of a scenario like this before, so thank you so so much for the suggestion<3

Sorry if this took so long btw, I haven't been active lately because of school and work😔😔

As always, painting is "The Crown of Love" by John Everett Millais (it's so funny to me for no reason, it just makes me think of how Baldwin would be physically dragging you out of danger).

Summary: During the most importante battle of his life so far, the last person king Baldwin expected to see on the battlefield was his newlywed wife

Warning: war, but it's more of a background thing, mentions of injuries and a hint at misogynism

Word count: 5433

It had been decided. Jerusalem's knights and soldiers would be riding towards Saladin's army at dawn, led by their king, King Baldwin IV of Anjou. Your Baldwin.

The mere idea that tomorrow your husband would find himself fighting face to face against the most fearsome of his enemies terrified you, especially knowing that you could do nothing to protect him. He had expressly said he did not want you or his sisters anywhere near the battlefield, it was too risky. You should have waited for his return, for him to be victorious astride his steed, now lying lifeless on a black bed.

You closed your eyes, begging your mind to spare you from the projection of that macabre image in your head. But you could do nothing against these emotions, which were tearing at your mind and spirit. You could not remain still and impassive, obedient and elegant as you always were as a young princess, then as a wife and now as a queen.

No, that image of you had to slumber, if only for a while. You did not have your kingdom on your mind at that moment, only Baldwin and the overwhelming desire to be close to him.

You cursed your nature for making you a woman, for not having had the opportunity to learn the art of arms and war. You cursed your long robes that prevented you from any daring movement, and your limbs because even if they were able to move freely they would not have the strength to even wield a sword.

As Baldwin fell asleep in your arms, exhausted by the fatigue that this imminent battle was costing him, and you held him close to your heart as if to compel him eternally into your embrace, you weaved a plan in your mind. A plan not to leave him alone at dawn, to stay as close to him as possible.

Because even if it was the day God would claim your husband's soul, at least you wanted to be near him as he took his last breath.

How selfish you were, not even death would have been left for him. But then again, poets have been saying it for centuries, love is the gravest form of madness.

You woke up in an empty bed, the spectre of a kiss floating on your bare shoulder where Baldwin's lips had rested a few moments before, when he had to arouse himself to lead his army into battle. And despair pervaded you almost immediately, when when you woke up still no idea had come to your mind to stay by his side, after you had hoped that sleep would grant you a solution to your problem.

Unable to hold back tears of frustration and despair, you summoned your favourite handmaiden, your nurse, old to almost retirement but cunning as a mischievous child. You wept on her welcoming lap, clutching the fabric of her robe in your fists.

"Oh Agnes, how unfair is my fate as a woman. I am asked to stand by my husband's side all my life and yet I am denied a place beside him in these dark times. And they tear him from my arms and leave me here, alone and helpless, these monstrous Saracens!" She looked at you with sympathetic eyes, stroking the long hair that fell from your shoulders, which resembled the waves of the sea as they shook slightly from your sobs. "What can I do, Agnes? You who always have a quick tongue to give solutions to my every worry, tell me what I can do, before his horse and troops are too far away to be seen."

She, like a mother consoling a child who has injured himself while playing, took your face with one hand, inviting you to turn your gaze towards her. As she wiped the tears that streaked your cheeks with her thumb, she spoke softly to you, although her tone had a hint of her typical mischief in it: "My lady, weeping over your fate does not suit you. Instead, I propose you run. Make haste to the armoury, there you are sure to find armour left behind by some lord. Do you follow me? Well, you will simply have to put on the armour, carrying a pair of your husband's breeches underneath. And keep your helmet tightly closed, so that it cannot be seen that beneath the armour there is not a brutish knight, but a beautiful queen.

Go out of the palace through the servants' passages, and buy the horse of the first man you find. Not yours, in the royal stable they would notice his absence. And then all that remains is for you to ride, ride as fast as you can, to reach the Christian encampments as soon as possible, which by then will have been set up. Remain aloof, and reveal yourself to your husband only. And do so at night, in his tent, where no unwanted eyes can see your unexpected encounter. Is it all clear, my lady?"

You merely nodded frantically with eyes wide in wonder and relief. You practically leapt into the air, quick to grab the first slip you could find and a pair of cheap shoes that you could ruin with all your impending travels. You were about to leave the room, but stopped for a moment at the threshold, before turning back to Agnes to hold her tightly in a warm embrace.

"What would I do without you, my dear. You are even better than a guardian angel, I wouldn't be surprised if one day you left some white feathers behind!" The woman squeezed you affectionately before pushing you away playfully, urging you to get out and go and do whatever she directed. "It is the job of a nurse, to solve a child's problems in the same way as a mother. But hurry now or the battle will be over before you have even found a helmet!"

You laughed lightly as you wiped the dried tears from your cheeks, wasting no more time in rushing to get what was necessary to implement your plan. You rushed in front of the crate containing Baldwin's clothes, tossing robes and shirts in the air until you found breeches fit for a ride. You hastily donned them, then dashed down the long corridors of the palace.

Once in the armoury, you began to spin like a wheel, desperately searching with your eyes for any armour. You weren't picky, anything would have been more than enough: you'd have been fine with just a breastplate, chain mail, simple shoulder straps,… But most of all, you needed a helmet. And that you found almost immediately in your mad search. It was crudely moulded and already bore a few dents on the sides, but you paid no attention to it, it was enough to conceal your identity.

You also found a breastplate, and that was all you needed. You considered taking a sword with you too, but quickly changed your mind: it might be foolish to most, but you hoped that if an enemy found you unarmed, his honour would prevent him from challenging you to a fight.

And then, your focus on your sword quickly faded as you remembered that you still had no horse to reach the battlefield. Running awkwardly, like a child ambitiously trying on his father's far too large armour, you stepped back into the corridors, this time frantically searching with your eyes for a servant to follow towards the back exit.

It must have been a hilarious scene from an outside observer, a burly swineherd looking perplexed over his shoulder as a half-armed knight los eguiva like a tin puppet through the narrow corridors. But the scene was short-lived, for after a couple of turns you finally reached the palace exit, and emerged into the crowded streets of the city.

I had to move my helmet slightly above my eyes to better see the road around you, scanning the area for any horse. You could only see two camels, a few cows, a hen with her small flock of chicks, but no horse in sight. But just when you were about to give up hope, a mysterious force swept over you.

More than mysterious force, you were almost overwhelmed by a horse held on the bridle by a dirty, smelly man. "Out of the way, kid!" Looking at the man with wide eyes, taking good care to make sure your helmet covered your features well, you strained to speak in the most naturally deep voice you could muster, attempting to fool the yokel into mistaking you for a mere boy.

"Sir how much… how much are you asking for your horse?" He laughed, opening his mouth wide and exposing his few remaining teeth, yellow and frayed, and looked at you with a look of paucity and mockery, "You're going off to war without even a horse? The Saracens will impale you like a spit, son. Not that the battle would do you any good either way, with the child king we have, they will all be wiped out. before they even reach those bloody Arabs!”

You clenched your jaw so tightly that you thought your teeth might blow out from the pressure, so hard were you trying to suppress your anger at that disrespectful commoner. Breathing slowly, trying to calm your nerves, you spoke in stiff, icy words, "30 shillings. And you leave me the saddle" The man's eyes widened, incredulous at how much a young man was willing to pay for his old, shabby horse. But he wasn't complaining at all; in fact, better for him if the thirst for war drove the youth of today to such lengths. If only he had known that it was not the bloodlust of a daring young man that was before him, but instead the affectionate madness of a desperate wife.

He did not even answer, stretched out his open hand in front of him where a moment later a bag full of coins fell. He opened it for good measure, making sure the hefty sum was true. When he was satisfied, he slowly handed you the bridle, dazed by the small fortune he was holding.

You hoisted yourself awkwardly onto the horse, and it was not a quick operation as it seemed almost impossible for you not to fall off the horse, so much was the armor restricting your every move and weighing you down. After a few minutes of tribulation, you finally steadied yourself in the saddle and with a firm gesture of your leg, spurred the steed, which galloped off in an instant.

At a gallop, the city didn't seem nearly so big. Nor did the streets seem so crowded, perhaps because the people spread out like the sea in front of Moses as you passed, trying to escape the unpleasant fate of being swept away by the running horse and its mysterious rider. You felt as if you were sailing through the waves of the sea, with people's heads bobbing up and down, a current of movement pushing you closer and closer to the city gates. No one paid much attention to you as you crossed the threshold into the kingdom of heaven, most just thought you were a careless rider who had fallen behind, perhaps this was your first battle. Whatever your problem was, it was not about the wall guards. And so your figure disappeared from the sight of the remaining citizens in the city, vanishing into the vastness of the endless desert.

You did not know quite how long you rode, how many hours it took you before you began to locate even the slightest trace of the passage of the army of Jerusalem. At first it was only small details, marks left on the ground, mainly trinkets possibly dropped to the soldiers during the ride. Then the signs of their passage became more prominent, when around a small oasis you even found a few abandoned spears, probably forgotten back by some careless soldier.

And you stopped there for only a moment, as thirst would have prevented you from going any further. As you drank from the body of water, your mind travelled in thought to your husband; who knows if he too drank from this spring? And if so, how long has it been? Will he be far from here? What would he say when he saw you retracing the passage he and his troops were tracing? At that last thought a shiver ran down your spine, most likely he would not be very happy to know you were so close to danger. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the image of the look that Baudouin would give you if he saw you at that moment, alone, barely armed in the vast and merciless desert, with no escort to protect you…

You only hoped that the surprise and joy of seeing you at such a tragic moment might cloud his mind from any concern he might have for you. In the meantime you had quenched your thirst enough. Regaining the reins of your horse, and after a series of ministrations to remount the saddle, you resumed your ride towards the battle with the unknown outcome.

As you rode with the wind blowing in your face, with nothing to entertain or distract you, your mind could not but return again to Baldwin. You could not help it, for fear for his fate had been tearing at your soul for days without respite, ever since it was announced that a battle would take place.

Baldwin was too young for all this. He was barely of marriageable age, he could barely reign without a regent at his side, he was hardly considered more than a child, many nobles even refused to call him an adult! And then there was his illness, which although not yet crippling, had already begun to expand its deadly effect on his body, numbing his nerves and making it impossible for him to wield his right hand properly. It was really unfair, that a man in his condition should lead an army to what everyone considered certain death.

Death at the hands of the Saracens, who were rumoured to be as many as ten times the number of the army of Jerusalem. A sob escaped from your mouth, followed by a faint stream of tears that ran down your cheeks, but they were short-lived on your face, the dry desert wind dried them in no time.

Only an instant seemed to pass, time to bring a hand to his face to wipe away the dried saline tears. Yet when your gaze focused again on the landscape in front, you saw a few hundred metres away a series of white tents, a few faint rows of smoke rising in the air, a massive cross set with precious gems, leaning against a rough wooden construction. It was the camp of the Jerusalem army.

Getting off your horse, you advanced hesitantly through the camp. Looking around, you noticed the stunned gazes of soldiers and horsemen watching you, some intrigued by your unkempt armor, some confused by your clumsy way of moving. But although the attention of their gazes made you stop breathing, fearing that you had been discovered, but fortunately it was short-lived, all the men were too tired from the exertions of the journey to investigate even this oddity. Taking you for an inexperienced little boy, they looked away from you and proceeded to drag their aching limbs back to their respective tents.

But although no one gave you more than the attention you give any stranger on the street, your heart would not stop beating furiously in its cage. You quivered at the mere thought of seeing your husband again, who although he had recently separated from you, already felt as if you had not seen him for an eternity. And your soul screamed at the idea that this might be the last time you would see him alive, and urged your legs to move faster. From hesitant strides, your gait grew brisk, impatient, and faster and faster until you burst into a frantic run through the expanse of white tents.

You scanned one, two, ten, a hundred, so many that by now they seemed to you an endless bundle of the same white cloth. But although your hope gave no sign of existing from your mission, your legs were beginning to give out under the constant strain you had subjected your body to for endless hours. You had no choice but to stop to catch your breath, resting your hands on your trembling thighs as you gasped for breath. And it was in that very instant, while you neither heard nor saw anything but the roar of your heart echoing in your ears and the rough ground flattened by the heavy footsteps of the soldiers, dark because of the blurred evening light, that you heard it. That voice.

"We will discuss this tomorrow, now I need the rest" "Certainly, my lord." The dialogue was followed by a knight of high lineage who came out of the tent in front of which you had pulled up to rest. He did not even dignify you with a glance, and you could not care less, for it was not him you were interested in. He was the first man to speak who had captured your complete attention, making the whole world fade away around you. It was a jovial voice, full of life despite obvious tiredness. It was a boy's voice. It was Baldwin's voice.

You sidled up to the curtain of the tent and, before opening your mouth, breathed slowly, tending not only to ease your nerves but also to modulate your voice to make it more masculine, deeper. The deception was to be revealed only when you were alone in the tent, away from prying eyes.

"My king, I know you are now bereft of strength, but grant me a brief interview with your majesty." You could visualize him rolling his eyes, puffing silently and running his good hand over his eyes, as he was always wont to do when any courtier demanded his attention while he was already lying in your arms. And as whenever this familiar event took place, similarly Baldwin made an effort in this case to stand up and mutter a reply, unaware that the subject behind the cloth was not just any boy, but his beloved wife. "I'm afraid I'm in no condition for a meeting at the moment. We will discuss whatever you need tomorrow." Panic grew in you hearing him so indisposed. After all, you should have expected it; he had more to think about than granting an interview to an anonymous soldier. In an instant, however, you changed your strategy, if you couldn't convince him you would have to bait him, "Please, sir, give me a few minutes! I bring with me a great surprise, a gift that I know will fill your heart with joy and restore your energy!"

He paused, as if weighing his options. At least that was what you thought, but in truth Baldwin was wondering if he was going crazy. If he had only dreamed, due to exhaustion and fatigue, that the voice speaking to him from outside the tent was not any young man's, but a disguise meant to hide the angelic melodic voice of his beloved wife. Were it really her, Baldwin would not have wasted a moment in throwing open the door for her, taking her into his arms and carrying her to his momentary abode, where her presence alone could be savored by him.

But he knew it could not be possible: you, his beloved wife whose image constantly pervaded his mind, were thousands and thousands of feet away, safe within the walls of your palace, as you had promised him. It was just not possible that you were the one hiding outside the tent, his hopes were just a cruel game of his mind. But by now his attention had been caught by the stranger so eager to talk to the king, to give him this phantom gift. Perhaps there would have been cause for concern, for thought of possible deception or assault by an enemy spy, but Baldwin did not give the thought more than a second's attention, before sighing softly and turning away, gazing back at the white fabrics of the tent. "Very well, come forward then. I hope this surprise you tell me about is really that formidable."

You came close to slinging yourself into the tent, throwing yourself into Baldwin's arms in an instant, and never letting go. But you still couldn't do it; it was too risky. You merely placed a hand on the side of the fabric that closed the curtain, pulling it to go through and letting it fall back behind you. And there you stood, facing Baldwin, clad in that armor far too large for your size, your heart pounding wildly from both the fatigue of the journey and the excitement. And he slowly, with a phlegm as elegant as the waters of a stream, turned to reveal the identity of his mysterious visitor, and you had already freed your face from the tortuous confines of the helmet you had worn for endless hours.

His eyes widened, wide as never before. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Baldwin could say he was truly, truly surprised. A thousand emotions passed from his face, from astonishment, to joy, to anger, and then to sadness, and then to astonishment again. For a moment he seemed about to open his mouth, but he stopped, opting instead to run to you, putting his arms around you, holding you tight and lifting you off the ground so tight was his grip. "My affection, how can you be so foolish! This is no place for you, so far from home, close to the enemy… You promised me you would stay safe, let me go, let me protect you! How could you do something so rash, you who are always so wise? Alone through the desert, what if the enemy had met you before I got here? What would I have done if your lifeless body, tortured by the Saracens, had been brought to me?"

His voice was exhausted, worn out by weariness and emotion that blocked his throat and threatened to make hot tears fall from his white cheeks. His words were harsh and stern, but devoid of any reproach: it was his fear speaking, his fear of seeing you the next day among the stacked bodies of war victims. And as he spoke he held your arms, shook you lightly, and in the process interrupted himself to place chaste kisses on your face, as if through the touch of his lips he was trying to convince himself that you were really there, standing before him. That it was not a mere illusion, a game of his mind.

Gently, with a touch as light as the morning wind, your hands went up his chest to his beautiful face, which you lovingly cupped. "I swore before God that I would not abandon my place at your side until the breath leaves my body. I have enjoyed with you wealth, pomp, and good fortune. But what you have granted me to witness is only half of the aspects of a nuptial union. Poverty, sickness, and the misery of war are the woes that touch every human being, and which two spouses are expected to face together. So now, my king, I beseech you, do not deny me a place at your side as you fight for the honor and freedom of the Holy Land, do not deny me a duty that has been mine since you and I were joined in eternity. It is unjust what you have subjected me to, to have to watch you ride away from me, toward the worst of dangers! And how could you think I would let you go just like that, without opening my mouth? Now we are even, I have retraced the path you yourself have traced, as bereft of safety as you were bereft of my presence. And now together we face this mortal danger, which, however, will never hold a candle to the pain that distance from you brings me!"

Baldwin's eyes softened, though they had a melancholy note in them. He inhaled with shuddering breath, and his grip became softer on your body, his hands descended from his arm to your waist, always holding you as close as physically possible.

"I was always told that silence honors women. This does not suit you, for depriving you of speech robs you of the royalty that makes you my queen. I ask your forgiveness, my angel, for leaving you alone in such a dark time. But try to understand my choice, how self-centered would I have been to ask you to come with me, in the midst of the greatest danger? It was simply too much for me, my beloved, the burden on my heart, begging me to do all that was permissible to keep you safe, even if that necessitated keeping you away from me. You are too far away now for me to send you back to the palace with an escort, and my heart could not bear to part with you for even another hour. You will stay here, ruling your people as you should. But please do not do me the wrong of setting foot on that bloody battlefield tomorrow. If even God decides that tomorrow my hour has come, and I fall lifeless on the bloody ground, do not move a step, do not show any sign of weakness. Don't follow me into the afterlife, don't even think about it: I know full well that I will never have the honor of lying eternally by your side, I am not worthy of it, so don't jeopardize your precious life in the name of an eternity by my side."

You did not respond, and silence fell. Squeezing together for another moment, you broke away shortly thereafter only to move to the bed set up in his tent, not as luxurious as his usual palace bed but certainly far more comfortable than the hay bunks in which soldiers elsewhere rested. Clinging to each other, you remained silent for a few moments. Or maybe it was hours, neither of you knew. Nor did you care, knowing how much time had passed, how much more separated you from the inescapable fate that awaited you the next day. Silent tears streaked your faces, sobs and sighs filled the air of the room. Then, you took courage to open your mouth, your voice soft and melancholy, weakened by weeping. "How unfair is our fate, affection. How bitter is my soul, knowing that tomorrow I must witness such a slaughter, an open-air slaughterhouse in which you yourself may become yet another victim."

As your first response you heard a snort from your husband, who squeezed you tighter for a moment, as if to secure you beside him, engulf you in his body. His lips pressed against your temple, placing a gentle kiss there, and they remained resting there even as he began to speak, "I know, I know my angel. I too wish things were simpler, that I could retire from this world, go and live with you, away from all this chaos, all this violence. You don't know how much I would have liked to abdicate, to leave the throne to Sybilla and her husband. They would have been good rulers, if only dear William had not passed away so soon. And so we have only to live like this, my beloved. To live perpetrated by the duties and horrors that mankind is capable of, all in the name of God's affection," a pause, a look that said a thousand silent words, and then resumed, "in the name of my affection for you… Tomorrow it will be an honor for me to fight, for like the valiant Lancelot, who fought to his last breath in the name of beautiful Guinevere. I do not care if my life will be endangered, if I return wounded and maimed more than leprosy is already reducing me. No, I don't care, because at the end of the day, whether my heart still beats or not, I know that I will return to lie in your arms.

And that makes up for all the injustices I will have to face." The last words were whispered, softened by a deep affection that numbed the senses and made everything as graceful as the clouds in the sky.

More tears streamed down your rosy cheeks, but you tried to conceal them by hiding your face in the crease of Baldwin's neck. The tone grew sterner for a moment as he resumed speaking, intimating you to listen with a grip on your shoulder. "Just promise me that, in case the battle goes badly, and I am dead and defeated and my whole army with me, promise me that you will escape, as far away as you can. Find shelter at the dwellings of those who have abstained from this conflict, find asylum in churches and in any sacred place you can find. Do whatever you can in order to protect your life. Protect what has always been dearest to me, your life."

"I will, I promise." You would have liked to retort, or much less say what he wanted to hear without really thinking it. But deception did not suit you, not toward Baldwin at least. And the mere thought that that might be his last will, which made you want to throw yourself to the ground and cry every tear you had in your body, also made it impossible for you to disobey that simple request, which after all was the request that you care for your own body and soul.

Whether Baldwin had taken your word for it or not, you were not sure, it was hard to say. It didn't matter, both of you were too tired to linger talking any longer, contrary to your usual routine of endless discussions on all kinds of topics. He whispered something to you in his native tongue, and although the language was vaguely unfamiliar to you and fatigue clouded your mind, you could still discern a sweet "I love you" among the words he spoke.

The next day your awakening was similar to the day Baldwin left Jerusalem: alone in bed, the place where your husband lay still warm. Outside the men were shouting orders and the horses were pawing in irritation at the din. In the distance you could hear the cries of the Saracens approaching, and the horns of war echoing in the air. You tried to peep your head out of the tent, but a guard surprised you right in front of the entrance. "My lady, his majesty has ordered that you do not leave the tent until the battle is over." The tone was authoritative and gentle at the same time, but his spear was stretched across the opening of the tent, an admonition far more direct than his words. You obeyed, as you had promised Baldwin that same evening, and without protest you retreated back inside the small temporary dwelling.

And so you stood there, alone and unaware of what was unfolding beyond the white tent. The last sound you were able to discern was your beloved's voice inciting his men to battle, before the din of war produced such a cacophony that it was impossible to understand a single sentence spoken. They rode for a few hundred meters until they reached the place where the battle would take place. They rode so far that the din they caused as they passed became muffled, barely audible. And perhaps it was for the best, for the distance muffled the atrocious sounds of war, of slaughter.

And so you waited there, within the four fabric walls, white as snow, that you feared at every moment might be stained with blood, friend or foe. You waited for the outcome of the battle, dumb with fear, with tension. You awaited Baldwin's return, dead or alive, victorious or defeated. And you did so by standing there, closer to him than was possible, exhausted and restless at the same time.

A/N: Yallll this was LONGGGG. i really really like how this turned out, and i hope you do too! I'm really sorry for how long it took me to write this piece, but I promise the following ones will take much much less🙏🙏🙏 Anyway, now I gotta go start working on those, feel free to leave a comment or feedback about this fic<3<3

#king baldwin x reader #kingdom of heaven #fluff #king baldwin iv #anonymous #f!reader #writers on tumblr #my fic #historical fiction #historical inaccuracies

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turtletaubwrites · 4 months

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Your Katakuri fic was so sweet!(no pun intended) I think a honeymoon continuation would be great but even without it’s the cutest thing ever just to think about!

Thank you so much! I'm falling for this big softie now 😭🍩💜

It was going to be a one shot, but they are just so stinkin' cute that I'm thinking about writing their honeymoon. It's just...

He's just...

He's 16 and a half ft (509 cm) tall!?!!

I prefer to stick close to canon, but this would definitely be in the monster fucking category, and my brain has been trying to work out the logistics, lol

If I can't figure it out, I'll probably write another fluffy SFW part and fade to black I guess...

Let me know in the poll below if you'd like me to attempt some Katakuri smut, lol. (My first poll ever is about whether or not to bang a giant, I love it here 😂)

I love him, and I want him, but look at him compared to the average women's height (which is my exact height, lol)

😳😳😳

I could make out with his knees 🤦🏼‍♀️

Side note, the internet is so fucking funny. I was trying to look up what an average range of penis size would be if the person was 16.5 ft tall, but all I could find was a slew of men yelling that height has nothing to do with it.

Yes, I know, my guys. I just need to know if Katakuri can consummate without killing his sweet little doughnut girl 😅

Lol, I had to look it up again before posting this. Apparently the average U.S. length is 7.68% of height sooo. How we feeling about 14.5 inches (39 cm)??? let me know 😳

#thank you so much!#I'm glad you enjoyed it!#please tell me what i should do #lol #charlotte katakuri x reader #katakuri x reader #anonymous #inbox #fic writers #should I tag for this?#cw suggestive #cw genitalia #fic poll #one piece x reader #x reader #smut #my polls #katakuri smut #one piece smut

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sweetchildcloud · 1 month

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Hii! I saw that your requests were open so here I am :]

I was wondering if you could do something with gojo and geto taking care of their s/o who maybe got badly injured during a mission or smn

feel free to ignore it baby<3

||Don't die|| written by me

🔞 Gojo x reader/Geto x reader| Minors DNI| TRIGGER WARNING 🔞

Tags:Blood,comfort,hospital(Gojo),injuries,bandages,healing,cussing(Geto),

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

P.s:sorry if i made it too angstu but i hope you like it anon!

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

Edit:sorry sweetie I think I got carried away in Geto's part :p

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia

Gojo

You waked up in a hospital room with tubes everywhere. Satoru is sitting next to the bed with his hands clasped on top of his knees. There's a vase full of flowers that probably were sent from friends and family members of you. A ring on his finger. There's no one else in the room. You're alone.

"How are you feeling?" Satoru asks, looking at you with a worried face. His clear blue eyes look like oceans that want to drown you with it's depths. Satoru is gorgeous.

flashes of the battled runned trough your head you hissed "like i almost died…?"

"You were bleeding a lot, you could still be dying. The doctor said you're stable but we have to wait a little more.." He sighs. It seems like he's the one that is going to fall apart from anxiety soon. Satoru doesn't know what he would do without you.

The silence between you two becomes uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry.." His voice breaks a little. Satoru swallows his tears.

"it's fine..you're fine no?" You jolted as you felt a sharp pain were the curse hitted you "it was worth it no?"

Satoru's hands are rubbing gently your forehead to relieve you from your pain. He seems to want to do more but he holds himself back. The hand of your uninjured arm feels so strong, as he holds it to his chest.

"I'm fine, now that you're fine." He sighs with relief because you're smiling a little. But the worry on his face gets worse with your pain.

"You killed the special grade… You're such a badass. Was it worth it?" His voice is lower than usual.

"I.." You swallow. The pain. The blood. The scars. The memory of the mission. He doesn't need to know all of those details. This moment is already painful enough. You bite your lip.

"I don't regret anything."

Satoru seems satisfied. He's still worried. Yet he's smiling. The grip of his hand increases. He wants to hold you to him so bad. He wants to comfort you in so many ways….

"You should rest."

"I'm not tired…" You mumble.

"I know, but you need to…" He answers while playing with your thumb.

His free hand caress your head to bring you comfort. The moment between you is charged with love, intimacy.

"Go to sleep...just for a little while…" He wants to add 'in my arms' But he doesn't. He keeps caressing you, hoping you would fall asleep.

You nod. The drugs given to you make you tired and everything gets blurry, you feel relaxed. Satoru continues caressing your head, holding your hand, playing with your thumb, whispering soothing words, trying to make you rest… You can't resist. It feels so good, so warm… You fall asleep. Satoru's eyes watch you fall asleep quietly, tears falling from his eyes with relief.

He kisses your forehead, closes the blinds of the room. He sighs and finally lays on his chair next to your bed, falling asleep too.

GETO

He's careful with you, as if you're a rare and fragile piece of glass. Each movement is cautious and tender; he adjusts the pillows behind your head, the blankets around you, ensuring that you're comfortable. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as he mumbles reassurances and gently strokes your hair. He smells of leather and earth, and his body exudes warmth. Your fingers curl in his, and you feel comforted by his presence.

You jolt as a rush of pain radietated from your bandeged wound

Geto's eyes snap open in alarm. He's by your side in an instant, studying the source of your pain. His thumb traces over the bandage covering the wound, his expression filled with concern. He's so close, his breath brushing over your skin. You look up at him, meeting his gaze. He doesn't flinch, and his eyes are full of empathy for the pain you're in.

He's gentle, but firm as he examines your wound, looking for any sign of an infection or worsening status of the injury.

"Let me see it" he says, his voice gentle. You hesitate for a moment, then nod and pull the blanket down, allowing him to examine the injury. You wince once when he probes at the bandaged area, but beyond that, the pressure of his fingers feels soothing rather than painful.

"How's the pain?" he asks after a few moments. His arms wrap tighter around you as he speaks, and you can feel the warmth of his body even through layers of blankets and pillows. "Does it feel better, or do I need to change the dressing?"

"the second…" you mumbled feeling weak a nd you trembled when the blood rushed out staining the bandages

“Don’t move” he says as he stands up, his voice a soft command that you find yourself obeying on impulse. His arms gently release their grip around you, but his fingers trail down your back as he pulls away. He crosses the room to his desk, rifling through a cabinet drawer as he grabs fresh bandages and disinfectant. Once he has everything he needs, he returns to the bed, sitting beside you and carefully removing the old bandages.

"Does it still hurt?" he asks after a time. The pressure on your body is still comforting, and his words are like a comforting presence. You nod again, and he frowns and makes a sound of distress as if he wishes he could do more for you. Without a word, he pulls you closer to himself, and you lean your head into his shoulder without even realizing it.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks. You don't notice the time slipping by as the two of you lie like this, his arm around your waist, his body radiating heat that warms you through. You nod slightly, and he sighs before starting to speak again. "I don't know why I'm so affected by seeing you hurt. I should be used to it, shouldn't I? Seeing people injured is part of my job. But with you…"

"With you it's different," he says. There's a slight rasp to his voice, and he seems to be searching for the words. "Seeing you hurt reminds me that you're not invincible. And I…" His hands tighten around you, and you can feel him squeeze you against him as if he wants to protect you from all the worlds dangers at once.

"I just hate seeing you in pain" he continues. "I know it's silly, but I want you to be safe more than anything. I want you to have a life where you don't have to worry about getting injured or hurt or sick." He pauses for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts. "So… maybe this is me being selfish" he continues "but when you're hurt, I'm reminded of how vulnerable you are and how much it scares me."

"I know that's stupid" he adds quickly. "You're not a child that needs protecting. But I guess I just can't help it. I just…" He trails off, then shakes his head. "Just forget I said anything," he says with a wave of his hand. "It doesn't matter. You just rest up. I'll take care of you until you're better."

"no…i like it when you worry about me" You smiled weakly "it makes you..human…"

He freezes, his eyes narrowing as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. "Human?" he says slowly. "Are you saying that you think I'm normally not human?"

"you feel so cold and scary sometimes that's all but deep deep down you have a heart a beating one"

You chuckle slightly and rest your head back against his chest. "So, what now?" you ask after a minute. He gives a shrug. "Right now? You sleep. You're injured, after all."

"Right." You smile, but the truth is you don't feel very tired. Your body still aches all over, and the dull, throbbing pain from the wound is enough to keep you awake.

Still, you lean into his arms, resting your head against his shoulder. He pulls the blanket a little tighter around you, and you close your eyes, trying to relax.

"You still can't sleep" he observes quietly after a few moments. You blink at him and try to come up with an answer but find yourself coming up blank. "Yeah" you say finally "I guess I just don't think that the pain is going to let me sleep anytime soon."

"What if I give you something for the pain?" he offers. "A small dose. You'd hardly get any rest, but it would help you fall asleep now."

"i don't like needles Ru-ru" You cooed

"No need for needles" he replies, and you notice the slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'll just give you a pill."

His arms loosen around you, and then you feel his hand move around until it finds your chin. His other arm reaches over toward the dresser, and he brings a pill over to you between two fingertips. "Here, open up."

You open your mouth obediently, and he places the pill on your tongue. It tastes slightly bitter, and when he offers you some water to wash it down, you quickly down the whole glass. You sigh and close your eyes, ready to fall asleep. You can hear him shuffling around the room, presumably putting away the supplies he'd used earlier.

When he settles back in the chair beside you, you feel his arm wrap around your waist once again. "I'll be here with you until you fall asleep" he murmurs gently. "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you."

You nod slightly and close your eyes, trying to settle yourself. The pill should be kicking in any moment now. You feel a heavy haziness envelop you, making it almost difficult to keep your eyes open. And yet still, you cling to the warmth that you feel from his arms around you.

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writters-clock · 7 months

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Can we get some Hollow Knight x reader headcannons? 👉👈

Preferably with a they/them AFAB reader, maybe about them re-uniting with hollow after they've managed to outlive the infection?

Thank u!

-🧡🪲

HK x Reader headcanons!!

Warnings : none?? I think?? Do spoilers for hollow knight still exsist??

Request : "Can we get some Hollow Knight x reader headcanons? Preferably with a they/them AFAB reader, maybe about them re-uniting with hollow after they've managed to outlive the infection?"

Notes : mmm bugs, the bane of my exsistance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✰> That poor thing. Probably tired as hell.

✰> Bud reunited with you and seems so sleepy (I mean they had a whole god throwing a tantrum in their body for fuck knows how long.)

✰> They, nontheless are surprised your still alive!

✰> they gonna give you a big ol' hug and not let go for like five minutes.

✰> and then immediatly after affectionately headbutt you like a cat.

✰> Let them take a nap with you, cuddle up with them while they hold you.

✰> What do you do with this info? Make them good soup. Preferably not orange soup.

✰> Also their posture is ABSOLUTELY FUCKED after being hung up like a christmas light for so long everytime the move its just creaky cracky noises.

✰> They lay around a lot more. Sometimes even forget what they were doing a lot easier.

✰> They will need time to heal, Hollow can't help it.

✰> The more and more you are willing to help them with, the more and more they appreciate you.

✰> You have to help bandage them up depending on how long it's been since the whole 'Mmm Little Ghost gonna fight god' thing happened.

✰> They are very patient with you still, just like before, very calm too.

✰> If you need something, they still try their best to get it.

✰> They care so much for you and wish to be able to show you that through gifts.

✰> However what they cannot gain, they give through nightly cuddles.

✰> Turns out, they feel colder than before. Like warm food slowly cooling off.

✰> Maybe thats a good thing? Or maybe they just need a blanket.

✰> However with the process of their healing, time is the best thing you two have got.

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ghouljams · 10 months

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Hello, I hope you are having a great day.

I haven't been able to get Slasher König and his reading wife out of my head for days. It's a scenario where he comes home from killing someone and asks his wife if she's proud of him, to which she says yes and some HUGE obscenity ensues.

Also if you can include something like the reader is madly obsessed with how strong König is (especially his arms) and how tall he is.

Thanks 🙇‍♀️

I do not have a slasher au, I think you have gotten lost on your way to someone else's ask box! Unless you mean cowboy!König, but he's not a slasher he's just weird. I did write you a little something but I didn't really know what you were talking about...

König always tries to be quiet when he comes home late. Sneaking through the house, you can hear the shower turn on then a few minutes later after it turns off the washer starts. You slide your bookmark into place just as König creeps through the door to your bedroom. His shoulders hunched and heavy with the weight of something unspeakable. You set your book on your nightstand and open your arms to him. The look of relief that crosses König's face as he crawls on top of you almost makes up for the stress of waiting up for him.

You don't know when you realized who he was, what he did, or how... excited it made you, but he didn't exactly hide it from you. Old boyfriends disappearing, strange bloody gifts left on your doorstep, missing clothes and always König waiting around the corner for you. You've never had someone say they'd kill for you and mean it(prove it).

"How was hunting?" You ask innocently, picking his wet hair into place, his face buried in your lap where you sit in bed.

"Some of the boars had teeth," he tells you. You hum, drag your fingers around the shell of his ear, let him tip his head to kiss your stomach. "But I got them."

"I'm so proud of you," You tell him earnestly. Having this huge murderous man melting over your lap in just a few words never fails to drive you wild. He's so soft and sweet for you, so eager to please. Just for you, only ever for you.

#i think you have the wrong writer my anonymous friend #so i am actually not going to fulfill the letter of your request #and im not gonna write more of this #i like slashers buuuuut eh im not super interested in this #könig x reader #könig cod #nah im not even gonna tag this as an au i dont want people requestion more

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powderblueblood · 5 months

Note

How about Lacy finding Eddie's writing? 🤭

need you to imagine me listening to a fifth of beethoven from the saturday night fever soundtrack whilst writing this because i became insane and filled it with Clues.............

it's like trying to understand the fucking zodiac killer.

it's all codes and ciphers and scrawls and-- well, she thought she might have been reading that one upside down but it's actually indecipherable any way you twist it.

and it's not like any of it is even written on paper either. torn open cigarette packs, napkins, burger wrappers from the diner. one time a leaf.

because eddie's not like lacy in the way she keeps a journal but eddie's like lacy in that if he's roundhoused with a thought that he needs to remember, he's got to write it down now immediately pronto on any available surface.

which is pretty pointless, since he keeps losing all this garbage and she has to pick it up after him.

she bears over the spread of scraps like an fbi agent, palms braced to the table. there's a thread here, but she can't quite untangle it. she's staring at a pile of shit that says shit like

crabs incident-- bruised like a peach worth biting-- violet like violence??

red tights. tingly. carnelian little carnivore.

track two. treasure.

persephone's hall pass.

seventh grade & as many minutes in limbo. shoulda ripped off band aid.

mage in a mink coat.

well, that last one--

"you dumpster diving now? hard times."

fuck! fuck. told you, rat blood. appearing out of nowhere with no noise no notice to then become the loudest thing in the room. he's like thunderclap, this fucko, like a spontaneous combustion.

he also doesn't even recognize his own handwriting, seems like. she blushes, furious. doesn't know why.

"community service. they have me picking up the trailer trash's trailer trash."

"snitty!" he shoves the bag of chips he's holding at her--an offering, he can't do anything normal around her--and reaches for one of the scraps. lacy watches him like a scientist watching a guinea pig for brain activity-- and his eyes go all wide and panicky. "wait."

"eddie-- hey!" but he's scrambling now, going for all the little pieces of writing she'd been trying to arrange on the table like a pointless puzzle. "don't--"

"where'd you get all this shit, huh?! going through my pockets now, is that it? like a cop?"

"i-- hey, don't you fucking dare-- look, you shed!"

"i shed?"

"you shed. you've got shit falling out of that stupid, enormous nerd binder every goddamn day because you just shove shit in there and don't organize anything, and i wasn't gonna stand around and let you just litter everywhere and--" now it's her turn to be like. wait. crosses her arms, eyes narrow, she's mother superior serving nailed ya bitch. "--why are you all skittish?"

"huh?"

"it's just-- trash, right?" she snatches a burger wrapper out of his grasp. oh this is delish.

"yeah," he grabs, but she's holding it behind her back and god her face is like stupid smirky, "but it's my trash. my--giveit--private... trash."

eddie munson is blushing.

"who's the mage?"

"the fucking.... the what?"

little crinkle as she unfolds a piece torn off a brown paper bag. "mage in a mink coat. who's that?"

"nobody."

"i have a mink coat."

"oh. does that really say mage? 'coz it should say mange." he's such an asshole. she's grinning so wide.

everyone says revenge is a dish best served cold but she bets she could use eddie munson's cheeks as a hotplate and eat right off 'em. it'd taste so much better. lobster bisque. filet mignon. michelin star.

"have you been writing about me, munson?"

his face is all stone-set, mouth all i can't fucking believe this and eyes all i'd cut the brake lines in her van if she wasn't the one scamming rides off me all the time. "li'l miss my life is incomplete without eddie munson wants to talk?"

"called you a neanderthal in the next sentence. don't forget that."

"you're such a beastie."

"carnelian little carnivore, you wrote."

"what makes you so sure it's all about you, huh?"

"context clues."

he glances down. she is, in fact, wearing the aforementioned tingly-feeling-inspiring red tights again today. shit.

"what happened in seventh grade?" she's pointing to the scrap in his hand, one he's managed to keep out of her snatchy little fingers.

she doesn't remember anything significant about seventh grade. but he does, and a knot tightens in his chest and he's about to lie and say something crass about my fist, a stopwatch and a view of you from underneath the bleachers at cheerleading practice-- then final bell rings.

"that is for me to know--"

"--and for me to die ignorant?" she's an active listener.

"precisely, you wench. now get the fuck outta here, i got hellfire."

lacy leaves the scraps.

"i will find out, y'know."

he knows. "you're like a bitch with a bone that way."

"the bitchiest."

#powder room talk #Anonymous #eddie munson x reader #hai brainrot #e. munson by powder #blurbs #honestly i thnik this helped me get out of my tiny writer's block for next chapter so THANK YOU i WILL be referencing back to this #lacy_as_charlie_day_as_charlie_kelly_pepe_silvia.gif #love u so much nonny #also-- i have to add that these dont reference eddie's 'dear whoevers' in the chapters bc i feel like that's his internal monologue #more than Writing Anything Down. my nonsensical shorthand king <33333333 #l. doevski by powder

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silverskye13 · 1 month

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its so crazy how RnS has this obsession with opposites and differences. while it's sometimes very clearly stated, it'll also be subtle, embedded into the text like a message from the subconscious. i think thats what makes me so obsessed w this fic, the attention to detail isn't even for a purpose, it's inherent and instinctual to the text, like it's alive.

that's all to say that as a writer you've done an incredible job landing just on top of the line between prose and narrative. your brain must be so wrinkly

(side tangent, have you ever read a Patrick Rothfuss book? he was my entry into this particular style of writing, though his is much more centered in narrative)

Thank you so much for the kind words! RnS has become my personal study on how to make your prose really fit what you're writing, and choosing words intentionally to set scene. The way I kind of fell into it was actually adapting from horror. I've really enjoyed how horror books tend to describe things with visceral intent. The spire doesn't rise, it shreds the sky. You aren't scared, fear grips you like a dog and shakes you. It's not self preservation, it's the human desire not to be devoured. I feel like horror is a genre that does this a lot [and sometimes gets a lot of flack for its choices if it's too over the top] and I like how playing with that can really submerge you in the writing.

RnS has kinda turned into my playground for leaning into that idea, just without the horror attached. Welsknight speaks like radiance and sun. Helsknight is fiery and wolf-like. Tanguish is cold and crawling. Tango is hot impulsivity. I try to describe them accordingly, and use consistent descriptors for them throughout. It's been a back and forth success. Sometimes I pull it off better than others, and sometimes there are needless contradictions where I prioritize environment or emotions over consistency. But! It's still been fun to experiment with and I'm glad it comes through :D I wish I'd been more mindful when I first started writing. Extending the intentional word choice metaphors to hels/Hermitcraft would have been really fun I think.

And I've never read Rothfuss! Though I've got a few friends who think I'd like Name of the Wind. Though they're the same friends who thought I'd like Wheel of Time, the Genre Defining Fantasy Series, and I, famously [in my friend group], couldn't get into that if my life depended on it.

#rns asks #anonymous #the barking writer #i should really give name of the wind a shot #i think i just get daunted by the fact that its first person. that pov is really hit or miss with me #ironically also because ive read too much horrir #its a shortcut to reader empathy and sometimes i dont like how it tries to manipulate the plot

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abitohoney · 1 year

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Her face is so beautiful. It's a work of art. I wish to frame it... with my legs.

#arcane #sevika #sevika x reader #Honey has spoken #idk what this is #I actually sent this as an anonymous ask to another Sevika writer a while back #not sure why I didn't just make it a post #but here it is now #her face really is so damn pretty #I'd also gladly let her frame my face with her legs

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rimunagenius · 1 month

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Would you be down to do a Kate fic where reader is a new transfer and Kate keeps seeing her all over campus and is quickly crushing on her (like she’s down BAD) Then one day when she’s going to meet Caitlin for lunch/coffee/something lol she sees her walking with r laughing then saying goodbye. Kate immediately starts interrogating CC the second she’s within earshot because she wants to find out everything she can about her mystery girl. CC laughs and says she transferred to play soccer and they’re in x class together. Then she’s like as fun as this is I’m starving so can we go eat now. From there she literally sees her everywhere because her and CC start to hang out outside of class, once she finds out r also played basketball in high school and college (focusing on soccer when she transferred) she invites her to pickup games or practice when she knows they’ll be using the managers to scrimmage and this is where Kate finally meets her and is officially smitten. R thinks she’s absolutely adorable and hopes this is the girl Cait said she wanted to introduce her to.

Everywhere

ʚ paring: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 2.2k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , other than that, none that i can think of other than the use of y/n.

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: okay so anon, i love this idea!!…i loved it and im so sorry it took so long to write it and i may possibly consider writing a part two! I love the idea of Kate being so smitten for reader. she’s a sucker for a pretty lady! also i hope it’s okay that i kinda made the reader a ghost to kate..like kate needed to be actively LOOKING so it’d be better for when she actually saw her and i feel like this could’ve have been better so im sorry if it didn’t meet your expectations 😭

Everywhere. You were literally everywhere. She was definitely not complaining about it though. You were actually so beautiful. You were everywhere but near her. You took over her whole mind since this morning.

She saw you on what she assumed to be your first day. You looked like a lost puppy walking around looking for your class. "Hey, you doing okay?" Kate approached you, sliding one of the sides of her headphones behind her ear. God, you looked even prettier up close.

"Uh, yeah? I don't know where the science building is. I've been looking for about twenty minutes and no luck." You sighed, checking your phone, your friend Caitlin texting you while you pulled your schedule up.

"I can help. If you want?" Kate gave you a warm smile, looking down at your phone. She recognized the professor, having had him her sophomore year. It was a general education requirement for her major. "Oh, I've had him before. I can walk you and show you."

"That'd be great, thanks." The walk was quiet, kind of awkward. Kate was nervous to make small talk. She never thought this far ahead. Hell, she didn't even know she was walking up to you until you responded to her.

Kate thought about it the whole way to her next class. She thought about it the whole way back to her home. She thought about you. The way you smiled at her when she offered her help. She didn't know what was happening.

She's seen many pretty girls before and felt attracted to them but not like this. She's barely known you—talked to you for a total of three minutes...It wasn't possible. It wasn't going to be a thing. She'd probably never see you again. This campus was too big.

Kate had thought about you, and she wouldn’t lie and say that she didn’t try looking for you either. She’d take her time walking to classes throughout that day and to Carver Arena. She’d stop to get coffee and snacks she wasn’t going to finish. She just wanted to see you. You were the most prettiest girl she has ever seen. She tried to find you all the rest of the day. With no luck, and her taking her sweet time to get to practice, she didn’t see you.

When she left for a later class, right after practice, after practice had ended at six pm, she had finally seen you and Caitlin walking together. It was the most shocking yet, anxiety inducing thing she’s seen since she left you earlier that morning.

She was a ways behind you both, recognizing Caitlin first, still in her practice uniform. You were both heading the same way she was, so she just decided to stay behind instead of going to talk to Cait. She wasn’t going to go anywhere near you both, scared of being that close again and having to introduce herself. She’d be an absolute mess. It barely worked this morning, and she was not taking her chances.

It wasn’t until she saw you walking away, meeting up with this other girl, and saying goodbye to Caitlin, that she decided to catch Caitlin before she left. “Caitlin!” Her walk speeding up, looking in your direction making sure you didn’t hear her.

Caitlin looked behind her to see her frantic teammate running up to her. “Yes, Kate?” She smiled nervously, watching the blonde dart her eyes between you and her.

“Who is that?” Kate looked to you, blushing. Pointing subtly towards you to make sure Caitlin knew exactly who she was talking about. That’s when Caitlin smiled. “That’s my friend! She just transferred here. She’s playing soccer now.”

“What do you mean ‘she plays soccer now’? What did she play before?” Kate wanted to know everything about you. She already knew you were the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. But she wanted to know more.

“She played basketball too. Got a full ride to UC Berkeley with it.” Caitlin nodded her head, continuing on the path she was headed to. “We were on our way to our class, but her soccer teammate needed her for a minute so I said i’d meet her there.”

“Oh, okay. How do you know her? Has she always been that pretty? How many classes do you guys have together? Maybe I can “walk” you to it?” Kate started to ramble any question that came to mind about you. All of which were about anything and everything besides your name.

“Oh, my god. Kate. Slow down. Why so many questions?” Caitlin laughed, already having a small idea as to what was happening. “Just ask her tomorrow.”

Kate’s throat went dry. What did she mean? “I’m sorry, what?” Kate choked out. Caitlin gave Kate a blank stare.

“I invited her to our pickup game tomorrow. Just talk to her then.” Kate was already so excited but dreading tomorrow.

She really really wanted to see you, but she started to think about how you’d see her play and she’d have to possibly guard you. This was a lot. Kate definitely did not let this go. She was starting to get too nervous. She was getting self conscious. She wanted to impress you.

Kate got up the next morning to a text from Caitlin asking to get there earlier than planned for a shoot around before the pickup game. The reason why was very vague but she decided to go early. Caitlin had asked her multiple other times to meet up and practice shots. That’s where Kate had developed better confidence in her far-range shots. Her three game improving significantly.

But the more Kate thought about it, she didn’t even get your name yesterday. Not even from Caitlin.

Her nerves were through the roof as she walked out the house and set on her way to Carver.

Her face grew hot and red, suddenly her relaxed and otherwise friendly demeanor turned shy and antsy as she got closer and closer to you both, standing on the court while she set her stuff down. That’s why she wanted her early…forgetting to mention the why.

“Hey, Cait.” Kate walked up to Caitlin, her eyes darting between you and her. She was so nervous. You were just so pretty and so close she just couldn’t take it.

“Hey! This is my friend, y/n.” Caitlin looked to Kate, and then to you. You shook Kate’s hand. Immediately recognizing the pretty girl who had helped you find your class yesterday.

You smiled. Yesterday after she walked you all the way to your class, before you had walked in you thanked her and watched her go on her way. She looked nervous but so did you. You walked up to the door but stopped to look behind you. What made it more awkward is you both caught eachothers eye at the same time.

Cait💕

“You find your class okay?”

“yeah! some really nice girl helped me find my class.”

“Oh, awesome! The people here are way nicer than the people from California huh?”

Caitlin and you had grown up together. Two girls who loved the game of basketball. You got a full ride to UC Berkeley. Iowa skipping over you for an offer but getting Caitlin. You honestly wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You got to experience life outside of Iowa. It was a fun experience. You loved California but still keeping in touch with back home. You would’ve stayed if your injury your sophomore season didn’t pull you out of the sport completely.

Tearing your meniscus, ACL, PCL, and MCL. You tore them over a span of a couple years. Your ACL and PCL being the first to go in your junior season of highschool. The MCL your freshman year of college. You had been halfway into your sophomore season at Berkeley when you tore your meniscus.

You were told you were able to recover and go back, but your coach didn’t like that you were getting injured and submitted an appeal to have your full ride taken. That’s when the dean advised you to find a different career outside of basketball. So, you entered the transfer portal, losing your full ride, and ended back up in Iowa for senior year. You had played soccer growing up as well with your brother. You kept up with it outside of basketball only small scrimmages, nothing too serious so you weren’t injured for basketball. But Iowa had a great soccer team and you missed home, so you decided to come back and come back to soccer.

“They’re way nicer for sure…and wayyy cuter😉”

“Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy”

“you laughed at, ‘Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy’ ”

You were excited to meet the friends Caitlin made here in Iowa City after you left. Wanted to meet the women she talked so highly of. So when she texted you last night asking if you wanted to shoot around before doing a pick up game, you immediately said yes. Something about wanted to introduce you to a friend, hence having to get there early.

“Oh, you walked me to my class yesterday!” You stuck your hand out and waited for Kate to shake it.

Kate had been staring at you. She didn’t mean it in a rude or freaky way. She just was in shock. There was no way you knew Caitlin. “Uh, yeah! I’m Kate. I don’t think we formally introduced ourselves yesterday.” Kate giggled.

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. There was no way Kate was the cute girl you mentioned to her yesterday. No way. And there’s no way you had Kate Martin giggling at a handshake. This elicited a random giggle and ‘no way’. You and Kate turned your heads and looked at her confused. It finally clicked to Caitlin.

“Oh! Nothing nothing. Just that—Oh! Look! My ball!” She walked away to the ball she left at half court, leaving you two to stand in awkward silence before opting to get started. You guys were going for about an hour before Caitling and Kate walked up to the small team Caitlin put together. You watched them two walk away, shaking your head before walking over to your team.

That’s when Kate turned to look back at you. Watching you immediately make friends with the girls in your team. Which happened to be her friends too. Kate turned back to the team, a huddle being held…Kate’s face grew even more rosy when she saw her best friend caught on to what was happening. Caitlin had been giving her the biggest smirk when they made eye contact. Was it really that obvious that she had a crush on you? Could she even call it that? She just met you formally seconds ago.

The shoot around is where you and Kate really got to know each other. Exchanging stories and experiences, her asking all kinds of questions of what it was like in California.

How you knew Caitlin, which she was shocked to find out that you grew up here. That you and Caitlin were neighbors. She learned more than what Caitlin had been willing to tell her. Something about “you’ll know soon enough,” or “i’ll let her decide.”

It didn’t help that she had to guard you during the whole game, even though her being absolutely smitten from the moment Caitlin told her your name wasn’t already awkward enough.

The small praises you gave her while playing went immediately to Kate’s head. A pretty girl like you complimenting her. She returned them back, feeling less scared of her antics when she saw how you reacted to them too. It was the most nervous and overall mindfucking pick up game she’s ever played in her life. And she grew up with playing with bigger and stronger boys. Hell, she’s made it to national championship games and this by far took the cake for the most absurd and anxious game.

But you, made her immediately nervous. And she knew you knew. The small smiles and giggles you gave her whenever you saw her reaction to your compliments and praises, your touches to her body when you would pivot around her while dribbling, your hands brushing her hips when trying to blow past her and cut to the basket.

Needless to say, you both knew the effect you had on eachother. Which is why it was the longest yet shortest game ever. Because when it ended, and you had work to do and practice to attend, so you started to say your goodbyes to everyone.

You said goodbye to the new girls you made friends with, getting their numbers and then pulling your oldest friend aside. “Please tell me that’s her.” Your face burning up from the exertion and the thought of the tall blonde you could feel was looking at you from behind Caitlin.

“Possibly.” Cait raised her brows, mischevious smile on her face.

“She’s possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen, Cait. Please tell me that’s her.” You glanced behind Caitlin again, catching those oh, so pretty blue eyes. You both looking away immediately, you both blushing.

“I’ll talk to you after your practice.” She hugged you and you started on your way to your practice. Looking back to catch one last longing look to Kate. It was definitely her.

She was already standing and talking to Caitlin, big smile on her face, hair now down. God, she looked good.

“Please invite her to more of these.” Kate pleaded with Caitlin. That immediately earned a loud chuckle from the brunette. This was so entertaining. Her best friends having the hots for eachother was the most interesting thing to happen to her.

“I will.” Caitlin patted her hand on her best friends chest, starting to walk away. “I fucking knew it.” She said while she was a good distance from Kate.

“What?” Kate asked, already wishing another pick up game would happen or that she’d run into you soon.

“Oh, nothing.” Caitlin walked away, knowing she had to do something to keep you guys interacting. This game of trying to get you both together was more fun than, dare she say, the final four tournament??

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