#everyone deserves some happiness and love

[fraugwinska]

I'm dying to see you write Alastor opening up to Reader about his mom, maybe a little angst and lots of fluff? (- v -)''

WE NEED THAT MOMMAS BOY GETTING SOME COMFORT!

Finally Anon, I found the strengh to write this. Sorry it took so long - I hope it was worth the wait! Next story will be less sad, I promise! :'< But I think we can all find some love for our Mommas Boy today, right? (Prepare your handkerchiefs, fellas...)

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Mother O'Mine

Not the kitchen. Not the lobby. Not the bar. Not the radio tower. Not his room.

You sighed and stilled for a moment, thinking of a place where he could've gone.

If Angel had just shut his damn mouth. Mother's day was a shit day for everyone in the hotel. You, who never knew a mother, raising yourself in the farce that had been the foster care system, rued the day. Charlie was still in denial about her mothers blatant absence and ignorance, Husk melancholic and tense at the memory of seeing his mother being exterminated shortly after reuniting with her in hell, and Vaggie bitterly wanted to ignore the holiday all together, feeling as though she would be betraying the mother she could no longer reach in heaven as a fallen angel.

Angel had been pissing them all off by breakfast, obnoxiously mocking their various reasons of why this day felt even heavier than others in hell. You knew it was his own way of coping with his mommy issues - something he didn't even talk about with Husk, as far as you knew, but he bordered on being not only menacing, but outright cruel.

Alastor had listened to his rambling stoically, flipping eggs while drinking his coffee with not much more than an annoyed twitch in his brow, but then the spider made the gruesome mistake to mention her.

Alastor's mom.

"What, 'ya think any of 'ya mothers could even look at 'ya without punchin' themselves? Come on, look me in the eyes and tell me Bambi's mommy wouldn't be fuckin' disappointed by what her little fawn has become... Can ya really see a sweet southern lady all happy, lovin', and coddling ol' murder-clown Alas..."

The green explosion came faster than you could blink. You were frozen in place, only staring in fear and worry when Angel landed unceremoniously into the table with the rest of the breakfast, the other residents as shocked and dazed as you were, while the radio static and greenish-black shadows seeped away from Alastor who then swiftly made his way out without a word, holding his staff while his tendrils bristled dangerously.

Alastor had vanished and the only thought coming to your mind - after giving a cursing, groaning Angel a righteous 'You fucking deserved that'-speech - was that you needed to find him before the princess did to make sure the demon had calmed enough not to finally lose it and maul her to pieces. Charlie meant well, but she didn't know. No one did know, except for you, and even you only knew so much.

It's not like it had been an elaborate talk. It just happened, after a nightmare that made him tear up in a mixture of rage and sorrow, a bad memory that had made his shadow basically drag you, half asleep still, from your bed to his in the middle of the night. Why you? You weren't so sure. Alastor usually preferred your company more than the others just because you were the most neutral, sane person in the hotel. Some would even say impassive. An introvert who didn't draw attention, silent and observing. But not once had his shadow ever acted up around you, and while it wasn't overly friendly with anyone, it seemed to watch mostly you with curious glances and interested hisses. When you had finally woken up enough to comprehend your situation, you were sprawled across Alastors stomach with his arms wound so tightly around you you struggled to breathe, strained mumbled words pressed through gritted teeth into your nightgown.

"Mother... I'm sorry... Oh mother..."

He had been sobbing into your shoulders and and shaking against your chest while he let go of a strange anger and grief he never seemed to get rid of while you had, confused but worried, whispered words of comfort in a hushed, soothing voice until you both dozed back to sleep. Morning broke, and when you opened your eyes again, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, not able to look you in the eyes. He had thanked you, gruffly and with an unsteady voice that made your heart ache, before offering his hand to teleport you back to your room. As far as you were concerned, the weirdest of it was that you felt him caress the palm of your hand with his thumb, barely audible as he mumbled that "that should have never have happened, and we shall never speak of it again." - he was usually a gentleman, and he never touched you this intimately before - but, to him, it was obviously a humiliating and horrible thing that you had witnessed him like that.

And you didn't speak of it. No one knew, and you intended to keep it that way. It was a moment you shared and fragile trust was on the table. You would take it to your second grave, along with all those feelings that had come with it, to prevent it from breaking.

Back to the present, you sighed and massaged the bridge of your nose. You had checked all the obvious places that crossed your mind, so maybe, you should start to look at the not-so-obvious ones... Maybe some place you knew was connected to... His mom...

A sudden pang hit you as you got an idea of where he might be hiding.

"Is this seat taken?"

The roof of the hotel was usually restricted from access, due to the general instability and collapse-prone architecture it presented, but you and (after an admittedly awkward encounter on a hot day that had involved you in a two-pieced swimsuit sunbathing and a very flustered Alastor with a book in one and a severed hand on a plate in the other hand) the radio demon knew about a small nook between the roof's overhead window frames and the hotel's ventilation system, hidden by the growing shadow of the radio tower where no one else ever came looking. A hideout, a place to go when you wanted undisturbed solitude. You had quickly left the place, apologizing for intruding a space that Alastor had apparently already claimed for himself (explaining the existence of the lounge chair you've so rudely used), but soon enough he discreetly invited you back, second chair added, to sit in silence together every once in a while, as long as you swore secrecy. It became a place of comfort for both of you, a retreat when life in the hotel got too stressful.

Alastor's reaction to seeing you was a quickly stifled hum before going back to staring stubbornly at the horizon. He looked dejected, and if you would not have known him so well, you wouldn't have noticed the trembling twitch of his ears nor the way his claw tapped impatiently against his knee, his shadow balled in on itself while hovering at the edge of the small roof.

It looked like he was staring straight through the distant buildings of the pentagram to the faintly illuminated orb that was heaven next to hells own sun, while also refusing to acknowledge you or the world around him at all. His smile had slipped into an emotionless line of pursed lips.

"That depends" he mused quietly. "Are you here to make me return to that insolent arachnid and attempt a 'healing' conversation?"

"I think you know I know that I couldn't even if i wanted to." You tried a weak smile.

Alastor briefly met your eyes at that, giving away that, despite his aloof act, your comment got his attention and he considered it before turning back to the horizon, the tense posture relaxing somewhat. A brief silence passed until he hummed an affirmative noise. "Then you may sit, darling."

After sitting down, minutes passed without a word said. The distant roar of the bustling traffic carried the muffled sounds of hell with the usual maelstrom of catcalling, profanities and general noises of mayhem to you, while you fought to keep a certain twitch in your hands as you counted the beats of his heels clicking on the tiles.

"You must know... my mother was a rare light in a world of filth." he declared suddenly into the silence. "An honest, virtuous soul of beauty and strength." He said it slowly and, surprisingly, completely unamused, the clacking of his shoes ceasing at once. He stared at the city in contempt, hands clasped together and resting on his legs to hold back a tremble that you caught anyway.

"She, unlike me, had not a spec of corruption in her bones. Wherever she found the warmth and love she shared with me, I cannot fathom. But she did. I may have been mocked and shunned by the world, the bastard child of a black woman and a white man, but I always had her as my home to return to.” The knuckles on his hands turned white. “But the cruelty of life and the disgusting human that was my father, the unbearable excuse of a man, killed her before I was grown enough to help. Before I was old enough to kill that monster myself." He spat the words, claws digging deeper until a faint trickle of blood could be seen. "I remedied that circumstance, twice to be exact, although it couldn't make up for what was lost. Nothing I did to him could make up for it..." his smile widened bitterly as his face twitched, recalling a fond, yet regretful memory. "… and believe me, I tried. But it was cathartic nonetheless, and quite educational... for my further career."

You stayed quiet and studied his profile, patiently waiting for him to continue talking. It was painfully obvious how hard it was for him to speak about actual feelings, with his tense grin and his white knuckles dripping with crimson blood.

"I knew, of course, where I would end up after my demise, and that I would never be able to see her again. Because I was sure she'd end up in heaven, like the saint she was. Is." He cleared his throat, attempting to appear dismissive, but you saw it. The sadness, the longing, the resignation, and it shattered your heart.

"Alastor...", you knew he hated physical touch, but your hand reached out on its own, to stop his hands from ripping themselves apart. He stiffened at the contact, but said nothing.

"Don't tell me you took what Angel said to heart..."

"How could my mother love me after what I've become after her death?"

His tone was monotonous, but his hands trembled under your fingers. He refused to look at you, but you saw his eyes, glazed with wetness that threatened to turn into actual tears. How he could still smile was beyond you, you had your theories on that, but that wasn't important right now. What mattered was that he was hurting, and that fact broke your heart. You never knew motherly love, how could you really miss something you never really knew? But Alastor did, and it had been ripped from him in the must cruel way, the impact of it so hard it made him even question the very foundation it was built upon.

You moved your hand from his to cup his cheek and turn his face to yours. His expression was blank, and if it weren't for the tight grin and the eyes filled with an unspeakable anguish, it would have been an emotionless stare.

"Alastor, do you know the poem Mother O'Mine?"

"I'm afraid the memory of it fails me, darling."

"Then, I'll recite it for you."

"Why?"

You gave him a sad smile.

"Because I want to."

He eyed you with stunned curiosity as you reached into your pocket, glad for once for your mostly useless power. You've only told Husk about it, in one of your late nights where everyone else was asleep aside him and your insomnia got the better of you, drunk and as a bargaining chip for one last gin tonic.

The blank piece of paper was a bit crumpled, but it would do. You started to fold it while you spoke, your voice sounded soft and almost like a spell.

"If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"

Your fingers moved with a solemn purpose as you folded the paper this way and that, a skill you perfected out of boredom over the years, the edges turning into an elegant shape, the poem coming from your mouth like a song. Alastor watched your hands move in a trance, not sure what you were doing, but too focused on the faint glow of purple around them to ask.

"If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"

There in your hand, sat a little origami bird. It wasn't anything special, maybe a traditional crane would have been better, more elegant, but you were out of practice and for what you intended to do it would work either way. Carefully you reached out, silently demanding for one of Alastor's hands that were still digging into each other. He didn't protest, and slowly raised it to give his hand to you. The tips of his claws were covered in a thin, fresh layer of his own blood, and his skin was warm and slightly clammy. You put the little paper bird on his palm, a speck of his blood staining the bottom of the pristine white paper, and closed his fingers around it, holding it in both of yours.

"If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine."

His enclosed hand in your own was encased in purple light, with wide eyes he followed the soft tugs of your fingers and opened his hand. The little paper bird flapped it's wings on his flat palm, looking at him for a heartbeat before taking off and flew in a singular circle around his head before it headed into hells deep red sky, towards the bright heavenly sphere. You watched it until it vanished completely from view, hoping there was a possibility that maybe, with a bit of luck, it would find it's way to her.

"This, Alastor, is what a real mother is. She loves you, I'm sure of it. Always has and always will."

Tears fell silently on his lap, a strangled, coarse breath escaping him. Without warning, he pulled you from your chair into him, holding you pressed close to him. Just like in the night of his nightmare, his face was buried in your chest, arms wound tightly around you in a hurting embrace and shoulders trembling with suppressed grief. His grip was bordering on painful, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair, stroking gently while you let him quietly cry into your shoulder, not caring that the wetness of his tears was soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You felt his heart beating rapidly, his pulse erratic and his breathing fast.

"I miss her. Oh, how I miss her."

You held him tighter.

"I know, Al... I know."

You didn't know how long you two stayed like this, him in your arms and crying silently while you tried your best to comfort him, but you didn't care. As far as you were concerned, you would stay here forever if it only meant to lift this weight for a little while from his shoulders.

It took him some time, but eventually his breathing evened out, and he calmed down, his hold becoming less desperate and more... affectionate. You didn't realize it at first, but he had moved, his head resting under your chin and his forehead leaning against the hollow of your throat, his antlers slightly poking the thin skin. It felt strangely intimate, and you wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, but the moment he moved to get up and leave, you knew the spell was broken. He didn't let go of you entirely, but instead helped you to stand up and held your hand, his gaze firmly planted to the ground, avoiding your eyes.

"Darling, I..."

"Don't worry, Alastor. Although I'm glad I was able to be here when it happened... we shall never speak of this again."

You could feel his hesitation, a strange nervousness radiating from him. His shadow hovered next to him, a hand reaching out towards your face. You smiled at it, and, just for a brief moment, allowed yourself to lean into it's warm, buzzing touch as it caressed your cheek, before you turned and made your way back inside without a glance back to the sudden sound of a longing hum.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angel dust #charlie morningstar #quickfic #light angst #comfort #alastor is a mommas boy #alastor needs a hug #and a good cry #and some sleep

[sunsburns]

kiss of life (iii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

masterlist

summary: you have never doubted aphrodite when it comes to soulmates, she's the goddess of love, she knows what she's doing and you're getting pretty sick of people telling you she's made a mistake with your soulmate, specifically. you refuse to believe that she could be wrong, but luke castellan is making it really hard for you to have hope.

—or: you and luke are off on your quest you're totally not having second thoughts about choosing him, he's your soulmate after all... right?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: filler chapter (sorry gang), reader's pov, reader is lowkey unreliable and is hiding something, pre-tlt, luke's character is kinda inconsistent but whatever, angsty fight with luke and reader, low-key happy ending

a/n: everyone might've moved on but i'm still here 😔… gang i think i’m coming back to my active era (no one cheered) anyways there’s so much i wanna write for this series so enjoy this little filler!

You'd always been a fan of bad ideas, but choosing Luke Castellan as your companion for the duration of your quest had to be your worst one yet. You felt a pang of doubt, questioning your choice, especially after witnessing the outcome of his quest—a failure that seemed impossible to shake off from the whispers of other campers. A failure your siblings wouldn't let you forget.

"I was there when he came back. I know what happened," you muttered, frustration creeping into your voice as you stuffed clothes into your bag.

Your siblings meant the world to you. You cherished the bond you shared—the familial camaraderie that bound your cabin together. As the eldest, you revelled in guiding and nurturing them, relishing the role of guardian and friend within your cabin's close-knit circle. Yet, like any family, they can sometimes be suffocatingly overbearing.

Alexis, your brother, ever ready to smack a reality check, had been the first to warn you against choosing Luke Castellan, and now he spearheaded a group of your siblings, all urging you to reconsider with reason.

"But that's just it. You don't know. Not really. None of us do." Alexis told you, reclining against the shared vanity in your cabin. The absence of the younger kids, off with Chiron for a lesson on constellations, offered you some peace of mind, sparing them from witnessing the escalating intervention.

As Silena sifted through the clothes strewn across your bed, her soft humming filled the room, a stark contrast to the weighty silence that hung over the conversation. "No one but Chiron and Mr. D knows what happened on that quest. He refuses to talk about it." she mused.

"There's not a lot of glory in that." Alexis shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"He's been so weird and different since he returned," Silena added, "I remember he used to smile. It was such an attractive smile. And he used to talk... He barely ever talks anymore."

Alexis snorted, "That's called depression, Silena."

"It's just so sad." She frowned and sat on your bed, her gaze distant, "Pretty people don't deserve to be depressed."

"Amen to that."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their melodramatic exchange, a fleeting smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focused on folding another pair of pants. 

"He still talks." You said.

"But it's not the same," Alexis countered, his expression grave. Deep down, you knew he was right.

"And the way he's treated you," Silena scoffed, "constantly icing you out..."

"Avoiding you for months..." Alexis added, stepping closer to you with a solemn expression. "Refusing to even talk to you."

When he tried to put his hand on your shoulder, you couldn't help but shrug it off, not wanting his sympathy.

Their reminders, well-intentioned though they may be, served only to deepen the wound already festering within you. Like a knife twisted in your back, the memories of Luke's avoidance and unanswered questions pierced your thoughts with relentless precision. You vividly recalled the disappointment etched across his face in the infirmary, a silent testament to his dismay upon discovering your role in his fate. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily in the air, a haunting reminder of the rift that had formed between you before it even started.

Your siblings were very careful with their next words: "Do you think that maybe... just this once... Aphrodite got it wrong?"

With a heavy heart, you stormed out of the cabin, your mind reeling with conflicting emotions. You swore up and down to Alexis and Silena that you were fine, that you only needed air. The need for clarity drove you to seek solace in the quiet embrace of nature, the gentle flicker of a breeze offering a touch of comfort amidst the turmoil raging within.

Throughout your life, your unwavering loyalty to your mother, Aphrodite, and the Gods has been a source of solace and guidance. You found comfort in the subtle manifestations of them, from the celestial dance of stars to the gentle caress of sunlight filtering through the trees. Even in the casual interactions of everyday life, you sought traces of your mother's hand guiding your path.

As you gazed into the dancing flames, the remnants of fruit smouldering in their fiery embrace in a tin can, you found yourself caught between hope and despair during your offering for your mother. Silena's words echoed in your mind, a harsh truth you were reluctant to confront. Maybe you didn't have a soulmate. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you're unlovable.

Yet, amidst the cloud of doubt, a flicker of defiance ignited within you. The mere thought that Aphrodite could be mistaken in matters of love seemed impossible to you. You had witnessed firsthand the intricate tapestry of fate woven by her hand, guiding souls to their destined counterparts with unfailing precision. 

The yearning for that connection, that soul-deep bond, burned within you like a beacon in the darkness of uncertainty. It was a desire as old as time itself, the longing to find solace and belonging in the embrace of another.

As the flames dwindled to embers, their dying glow casting flickering shadows upon the ground, your prayers went unanswered. 

The weight of your impending quest pressed upon you like a heavy cloak. Questions tumbled over one another in a relentless cascade, each one a dagger aimed at the heart of your resolve. Where would you need to go? Would you need to defend yourself? Would monsters come after you? Should you choose someone else? Could it be that Luke was nothing to you but a mistaken thread tethered into your life?

Your shoes stepped over twigs and dry leaves on the ground until you stepped out of the forest. Passing by the armoury, you forced a smile upon your lips. You forced yourself to be excited for your first quest rather than dread it. It was a rare privilege bestowed upon a child of Aphrodite, you should honour it.

As you approached the heart of camp again, the familiar clang of sword meeting dummy rumbled through the night air. The rhythmic sound, though commonplace in the realm of demigod training, carried an ominous weight under the cover of darkness. You would have assumed that all campers were asleep.

Luke Castellan, a boy who had become synonymous with the darker days since his return from his quest, stood amidst the training grounds, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. The sight of him, bathed in the ghostly shine, was haunting. With each precise strike of his sword, a muted testament to the rage that plagued his restless spirit, he seemed to exude an aura of both determination and despair.

No wonder you were so exhausted.  

You dared not meet his gaze, instead keeping your head bowed as you navigated the familiar path through the training grounds. Every fibre of your being screamed for you to move faster, yet the pull of his presence was undeniable. Despite your best efforts to remain unseen, Luke's voice cut through the night, calling out your name with a sense of urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Shit.

With a sinking heart, you felt his hand land on your shoulder, stopping your escape. You couldn't avoid him now. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that mirrored the restlessness within your own soul. His features, etched with lines of weariness and frustration, betrayed the weight of the burdens he carried.

You were distracted by the way he was looking at you. Brows furrowed, his lips turned and pulled into that permanent frown that had you wondering if he had ever smiled since he came back. Yet, despite the weight of his solemn expression, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glint of warmth, of familiarity, that almost stirred a faint glimmer of hope within you.

Almost. 

"You're making a mistake." He insisted. "You need to choose someone else for your quest."

You tried not to seem too disappointed. "I can't pick anyone else." You protested, and he raised his brows at you, doubtful. "The Oracle told me to choose you."

"She told you to-?" A scoff escaped him, "The Oracle doesn't tell you who to choose. She doesn't say anything about who you should bring-"

"Luke-"

"The Oracle tells you what your quest is, then a weird riddle about something that will happen on your quest that will put you on edge the entire time."

Luke had stepped closer to you as he spoke as if his words would've sunk into your head clearer if you could hear them better. He spoke to you a lot that way, hoping you'd cling to every word he had to say; good and bad. Mostly bad.

The Oracle's cryptic words lingered in your mind. She had not revealed much about your quest, offering no subtle hints or insights into Eros' whereabouts to make your life easier. Instead, her assurance that success hinged on bringing Luke Castellan along had left you grappling with uncertainty. "He has all the answers you seek," she had urged, her words echoing with a weight that you struggled to comprehend.

"It has to be you."

"What else did she say?"

You hesitated. "That's it," you replied, your words falling short.

"That's it?" He didn't believe you.

"Just a few hints of where Eros might be, I guess." The lie slipped from your lips effortlessly. 

He caught it quickly but never urged you to admit it. Luke remained silent, his expression unreadable as he mulled over your words. 

You sort of wished he fought you over it.

You wished he'd do anything with you. At least try to.

"If you don't want to come with me, that's fine," you conceded, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, with or without you."

"Really? You'll just leave?"

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. Yet, despite the resentment that coloured his words, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glimmer of regret, perhaps, or maybe resignation. It only annoyed you further.

Luke Castellan was possibly the most confusing person you've ever met. He didn't want to join you on your quest, but you couldn't leave without him either? What's his fucking deal?

He intrigued and frustrated you, like some curse had been placed upon you, and you wanted to understand every part of him while he wanted nothing to do with you. Perhaps Aphrodite was being cruel when she chose him as your soulmate, but you weren't any better when you put him in the position of joining you on your quest.

"I don't know you." You admitted the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You've made a really good effort to make sure that I don't know anything about you. I did my part. I picked you. If you don't want to come, that's... fine."

It pained you to say it. You did not want to go alone, but you weren't going to force someone to accompany you who clearly didn't want to be there. However, the uncertainty of what lay beyond the safety of the camp walls loomed large in your mind. You haven't left the protection of the camp in years, you weren't sure of what was out there other than the stories the summer campers would tell you, of their close calls and near misses. 

Luke Castellan was the perfect example of what leaving camp does to someone.

Despite the weight of your decision, you held your head high as you turned on your heels. You doubted Luke had anything more to say; he was a man of few words, after all.

You left him there, just as he left you by the docks for months. And then you lied to yourself, clung to the belief that your mother, Aphrodite, would safeguard your journey and that your brother, Eros, awaited your rescue.

And so, the next morning, after bidding your tearful goodbyes to your siblings and friends and earning a proud pat on the back from Chiron, you swallowed your pride and left.

The Oracle's words were etched into the very fabric of your being, a relentless mantra that monopolized your thoughts as you trudged toward the top of the hill and left the safety of campgrounds. Each step forward was a testament to your determination, each footfall a declaration of your unwavering commitment to the quest ahead.

As you climbed, you couldn't help but imagine the faces of campers upon your return. You pictured the awe in their eyes, the pride in their voices, and most of all, the look on Luke's face when he realized the extent of your lone success, his disbelief mingling with a begrudging respect.

"Hey-"

The sound of your name startled you out of your thoughts. You were trudging through the grass when you spotted a body sitting under a pine tree, shaded from the sun by its leaves.

Luke looked up at you, frowning, "Took you long enough."

His dishevelled dark curls fell over his eyes, a stark contrast against the vibrant greenery surrounding him. With a resigned sigh, he rose to his feet, his movements fluid yet tinged with an air of impatience Luke picked up a bag by his side, tossing it over his shoulder. It wasn't until he emerged from the tree's shade that you noticed the subtle changes in his attire. Gone was the signature orange camp shirt, replaced instead by a more subdued navy tee that hugged his frame. His old cargo pants remained the same, but different nonetheless.

Eyeing his bag, you could spot smaller daggers strapped to the sides, prepared for anything. It took you a few seconds to process why he was there. You squint at the sun as he steps out from under the tree. "You came."

He huffed, "Obviously."

You let out a breathless chuckle, maybe one of relief since honestly, despite everything you'd been trying to convince yourself of, you were terrified to leave on your own. 

"Why?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as you adjusted the straps of your own bag. The question hung in the air, unanswered. Of course. You almost rolled your eyes as Luke began to descend the other side of the hill. With a fleeting glance over his shoulder, he wordlessly beckoned you to join him by tilting his head to the side impatiently.

You grinned then, wide and bright. "I know I said I didn't care if you came or not, but I'm glad you're here."

He showed no sign of acknowledgment of your sentiment, his gaze fixed ahead as he continued to walk once you joined his side.

As the minutes stretched on in silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot, you found yourself lost in thought. It was only when the distant hum of passing cars reached your ears, their blurred forms darting through the forest's fringe, that you were jolted back to the present.

Drawing to a halt near the forest's edge, you felt the weight of uncertainty settle upon you. With a hesitant pause, you turned to face Luke, the question that had been gnawing at your mind poised on the tip of your tongue.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked.

"I just..." Your voice wavered, uncertainty lacing your words as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. You worried that if you said the wrong thing he'd leave you stranded right there and return to camp while the two of you were still walking distance from it. It annoyed you a little; how much you had to walk on eggshells with him.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if you hadn't chosen him. You were being stupid when you picked him, you decided. You already regret it. Maybe Luke was right, the Oracle was just trying to get into your head.

"What made you change your mind? About coming on the quest?" you finally managed to voice, your eyes meeting his in search of answers.

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and simply stating: "If you break an arm, so do I."

That had been the closest Luke Castellan had ever been to admitting he had a soulmate.

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#this is like a million years late #but i'm too emotionally attached to this story to move on #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #luke castellan smut #pjo series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #percy jackson spoilers #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson series #percy jackson tv #pjo smut #pjo fandom #annabeth chase #clarrise la rue #soulmate au #soulmates #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fic #luke’s cabin

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Simon Riley NSFW hcs ♡

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Two lovely people asked for my NSFW Simon headcannons and I'm happy to provide!!

Just a disclaimer, these are my headcannons. If you have ones that are totally different, that's okay!

He's fictional and can be whatever you want him to be <3 (except a rapist. We don't do that here.)

If you have any COD thoughts or requests, my inbox is open!!

~ Fi 🐝

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I'm a soft!Simon truther until death.

There's not a single reality in which I can see him ever being too rough with you, let alone hurting you.

First of all, he has no fucking clue what he's doing. He's maybe had sex 2-3 times in his life and I don't think any of them were memorable or good.

I'd wager that all of them were hookups, encouraged by other soldiers to "let off steam". But Simon just can't do it, it feels so wrong. To give himself so fully to someone he doesn't even know.

There needs to be an emotional connection in order for him to feel comfortable and good. He needs to trust and love this person before he can do anything with them.

It's gonna take a while for him to open up, but once he does everything is smooth sailing.

(I also don't think he masturbated excessively. He probably jerked off, everyone gets horny, but especially if we say he's on antidepressants, his sex drive is pretty low. He's either too tired or just doesn't care)

Your first time together was fueled by a, not so uncommon, make-out session on his couch. It'd usually end with you grinding on his thigh or rubbing yourself over his clothed cock until you both reached a satisfactory end.

Simon thinks he could live an entire relationship with only sticking to dry humping, but in reality he's just terrified of the intimacy of real sex.

It's not too romantic, none of that rose petals lit candle stuff. It's not that Simon hates all of that, but I just think it'd be too much for the first time.

He's already so nervous (so are you probably if we're honest) and all that extra stuff would overwhelm the fuck out of him.

(He will spoil you with rose petals and candles another night, even if it just ends you with you falling asleep in eachother's arms <3)

Eventhough it's soft and sweet, you're both still very horny and basically rip the clothes off of the other.

Foreplay is important!!! (For all my girlies who don't drip down their thighs)

Not only for you but for him too. Even if he's rock hard already, he wants to enjoy himself, maybe be a tease. He will always make sure that you're okay and ready (and so will you bc he deserves it).

Would literally eat you out to calm himself down. He probably has fallen asleep while licking your pussy, it's his personal meditation.

Your taste, the way you feel on his tongue and the fact that he was two perfectly good pillows wrapped around his head made it easy for him to nod off.

Also, he prefers it hairy. (Fight me.) (pls don't)

I know it's cliche but he's like 2 seconds away from just coming inside of you the second he pushes in. Not only does he feel good but when he looks down he sees you and he could cry from how happy he is. He just loves you so much.

Can we please put the "You only take half of him" bullshit to rest??? Thank you. We all know Simon as BDE but let's keep it on the real side okay. He couldn't give less of a shit if you can take him to the hilt or not.

(Some gals physically can't bc if your vaginal canal is too short, then it's impossible. You don't want a bruised cervix, so don't be stupid) I do think when he's more comfortable about it and a little more desperate and rough, he'll play into the size kink.

He probably has a huge size kink anyway but he would never make you feel bad if you couldn't take all of him. (Especially if you're giving him head bc let's be real that thing is not going down no one's throat okay)

He has the prettiest moans. I JUST KNOW IT. they're more throaty and deep but they sound good. I honestly don't think this man is capable of whimpering (like physically. Not with that smoker lung) sorry babes.

Simon isn't too loud, but just enough to make you that much hotter. He will try to pull more moans out of you, like a little challenge for himself.

NONE OF THAT "10 rounds Riley" SHIT. (Have any of y'all ever had an orgasm before like?? Who the fuck is going ten rounds??? Not me that's for sure lmao) it really all depends on your guys' mood and neediness on that day.

I do think he can and wants to go a couple of rounds but it's probably more on the rare side and never more than 4.

He knocks out immediately. He's always tired anyways.

I think his favorite positions are missionary, prone bone, and cow girl. He likes the closeness, wants to feel every part of you and kiss it like his life depends on it.

The further you are into your relationship, the more new stuff you can try out. He's always gonna be hesitant at first but if it's not too out there he'll try it.

Simon will tell you if something is a hard no for him and he expects you to respect, just as he would for you.

Would 100% make you ride his face. Wants to he smothered in it okay. (Simon said sit, so sit.)

Simon would be down to tying you up (one condition; you're never tied to anything. In case of emergencies)

You won't get him to be tied up though, that's a real hard no.

I think the closest you'd get to a submissive Simon is if you order him around.

He's sitting on his knees before you and you tell him exactly what you want him to do (one thing Simon Riley can do is follow orders) and he'll pretend to let you be in control and maybe you are for a while, but deep down he's always in control (not necessarily sexual or possessively, he just needs the security)

He loves to get head (not as much as giving it tho) but he will never ever force his cock down your throat, even if you begged him.

He can't do it, won't do it. Has he had the urge and fantasies?? Sure, but it goes against everything he promised when you got into a relationship.

Sweetly suck on his tip and stroke the rest of his length and he's happy as a clam <3

His absolutely favorite thing is when you ride him in the morning. Just lazy and sloppy circles of your hips while you sit on top of him. He loves the sight.

Simon'll gently hold onto your hips and guide you if need be. It's even better if you're laying flush against his chest and the both of you are snuggled under the blanket.

Bonus; he loves to make-out with you. It's an unhealthy obsession that has led to too much lipgloss/lipstick ingested just bc the fucker couldn't wait 2 minutes for you to take it off.

Kissing you is his number 1 way to show you how much he loves you since words aren't his strong suit.

Needless to say, he's head over heels for you, and the sex is great. <3

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I hope you lovelies enjoyed it!

More of my works --> 💫

#bumblebeesfromvenus #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost call of duty

[hd-junglebook]

The Lucky Bachelor

Part 1 - Luke Hughes X Reader

Masterlist Link

a:n When you guys' finish let me know if you want a part 2. I'm a little conflicted because I feel like I can't write as good for Luke as I do Jack. Idk why when I'm literally gonna marry this man but whatever. Enjoy!!

Summary: This is their second chance at love, it had been three years since that night in Michigan, three years since they officially split for the better. With some unwanted help Luke knows he will find a way to make her love him again.

Word Count 6401

Y/n’s POV

Y/N inhaled deeply, the distinct aroma of stale coffee and the acrid scent of cleaning products assaulting her senses as she stepped into the bustling airport terminal.

The rhythmic whirring of the wheels on her carry-on luggage provided a muffled counterpoint to the cacophony of voices echoing off the high ceilings and the distant hum of aircraft engines.

As she pushed through the throng of hurried travelers, her eyes darted from sign to screen, searching for the gate information for her flight. Suddenly, the overhead intercom crackled to life, a tinny, robotic voice cutting through the din.

"Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Rome. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time." The announcement was punctuated by a sharp, piercing ding that drew the attention of those waiting nearby.

Amidst the sea of harried bodies, a familiar figure suddenly caught Y/N's eye. Clarke, the bride-to-be and her best friend since childhood, stood near the crowded check-in counter.

Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, the airport's harsh lighting lending an almost ethereal glow to the strands. Clarke was practically bouncing on her toes, her smile radiant with pure joy as she waved enthusiastically, beckoning Y/N over.

"Over here!" Clarke squealed, her voice carrying above the din of the busy airport. She cupped her hands around her mouth, ensuring that her words reached Y/N's ears.

For a moment, the nervousness that had been coiling in Y/N's stomach dissipated, replaced by a warm sense of affection. The nerves that had been twisting in her stomach moments ago melted away, replaced by a comforting warmth that spread through her chest.

She quickened her pace, dodging luggage and weaving through the crowd with newfound energy until she reached the circle of familiar faces.

"Sorry, excuse me," Y/N muttered apologetically as she squeezed past a family of tourists, their curious glances following her as she made her way towards her friends.

The moment Y/N stepped into the group, Clarke's eyes lit up, her face splitting into an ecstatic grin. "Y/N! You made it!" she squealed, her voice rising an octave in excitement. Without hesitation, Clarke flung her arms around Y/N, enveloping her in a tight hug that smelled earthy and green.

Y/N laughed, the sound bubbling up from her chest as she returned the embrace, squeezing Clarke tightly. The two friends held each other for a moment, the chaos of the airport fading into the background as they savored the reunion.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Y/N declared, her voice filled with sincerity as she pulled back to look her best friend in the eye. "You and Damien deserve the best celebration."

At the mention of her fiancé's name, Clarke's cheeks flushed with a delicate hue, a blend of happiness and bashfulness coloring her features. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, her eyes glistening with gratitude. "It means the world to me that you're here."

Clarke took a deep breath, composing herself before turning to the rest of the group with a radiant smile. "Come say hi to everyone else," she urged, tugging Y/N's hand and leading her towards the other bridesmaids.

As Y/N greeted each of the girls with warm, enthusiastic hugs, the chatter among the group grew louder. But as her gaze swept across the familiar faces, it landed on a newcomer, a girl she had never seen before.

The stranger stood slightly apart from the rest, her fiery red hair cascading down her back in vivid, rebellious curls.

Her piercing green eyes seemed to hold a glint of something mysterious, an undercurrent of intensity that made Y/N pause for a moment, her heart skipping a beat.

Brushing off the strange, unsettling feeling that crept up her spine, Y/N approached the girl with a friendly smile etched onto her features. "Hi there," she said, extending her hand in greeting. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Y/N, Clarke's childhood friend."

The redhead's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, a guarded expression that immediately put Y/N on edge. "Anastasia," she replied, her voice smooth and measured as she grasped Y/N's outstretched hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Despite the polite exchange, Y/N couldn't shake the odd, prickling sensation that settled in the pit of her stomach. There was something about Anastasia, something indescribable, that felt off - a subtle tension that hung in the air between them, thick and suffocating.

But before Y/N could dwell on it further, Clarke appeared by their side, her face lit up with excitement, effectively shattering the moment.

"Y/N, I see you've met Anastasia," Clarke beamed, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, forming a bridge between the two women. "She's a close work friend from my new job. I've been dying for you two to meet!"

Y/N forced a smile, the muscles in her face straining with the effort as she tried to push down the unease that threatened to surface. "That's great," she replied, her voice sounding a bit too chipper even to her own ears. "I'm always happy to meet Clarke's friends. As you can tell we're all thick as thieves now."

Anastasia's piercing gaze flickered between Y/N and Clarke, a flash of something indecipherable crossing her features before it was quickly replaced by a warm, almost saccharine smile.

"Clarke has told me so much about you, Y/N," she said, her tone honey-sweet and dripping with false sincerity. "I feel like I already know you."

Y/N let out a strained laugh, the sound grating against her own ears. "All good things, I hope," she joked, trying in vain to lighten the suddenly palpable tension.

Clarke giggled, her hand giving Y/N's shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrent of unease swirling between the two women.

…

All too quickly, the girls began navigating through the bustling airport, checking in their luggage and making their way through the winding security checkpoints, Y/N found herself easily falling back into step with their giddy chatter.

Taylor, one of Clarke's college friends, let out a giggle as she recounted her latest romantic escapade.

"Me and Travis aren't together anymore. He was too clingy," she said with a dramatic sigh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe I'll steal up one of the best men, huh, Clarke?"

Clarke rolled her eyes playfully, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Taylor was always like this, falling in love too quickly and falling out of it just as fast. Her romantic aspirations were as fleeting as the summer breeze, but her infectious laughter and carefree spirit made her an essential part of their tight-knit group.

The conversation shifted to the upcoming bachelorette party as they made their way to the boarding gate. Clarke's eyes sparkled as she described the home they'd be staying at, her hands gesturing animatedly as she painted a vivid picture of pristine white sand and crystal-clear waters.

"I found it a couple of months ago," she explained, her voice brimming with excitement. "It's a little expensive, but I feel like this week will be worth it."

Y/N listened intently, absorbing every word as Clarke waxed poetic about the luxurious amenities and breathtaking views. She could almost feel the warm sand beneath her feet, the salty breeze caressing her skin, and the laughter of her friends echoing through the night.

The intercom crackled to life, a pleasant voice filling the air. "Attention passengers, this is the final boarding call for Flight 227 to Bali. Please make your way to Gate 12. Thank you."

The announcement sent a ripple of excitement through the group, signaling for them to gather their belongings.

The girls fell into a single file line, stepping onto the plane and entering the luxurious first-class cabin that welcomed them with plush seats and gleaming surfaces.

Just as Y/N was settling into her seat, a familiar name caught her attention, causing her heart to skip a beat. "I can't wait to see Luke," one of the girls gushed, her voice taking on a dreamy quality.

It was Anastasia.

"He's such a dreamboat, Emilia, don't you think? Have you seen his arms?" she giggled.

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine, her grip tightening on the handle of her carry-on. She glanced up, only to find Clarke’s eyes already fixed on her, a mixture of guilt and concern etched across her face before she forced a toothy smile. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. She'd known this moment would come, the day she’d see Luke again. But hearing his name spoken so casually, as if he were just another guest and not the boy who had once held her heart in his hands, made it all too real.

It was Clarke who broke the eye contact first, her smile faltering. She cleared her throat, breaking the tension. "We should probably find our seats," she suggested, her voice strained.

Y/N nodded, grateful for the escape. She followed the group onto the plane, her mind reeling with thoughts of Luke and the memories they'd shared.

Once they settled into their seats, Clarke turned to Y/N, her face contorted with guilt. "I was gonna tell you," she screeched, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. "Please don't be mad, Damien and Luke have gotten so close it would be rude not to invite him."

Y/N sighed, leaning back against the headrest. She couldn't blame Clarke for inviting Luke. After all, he was part of their shared history, a friend to both the bride and groom.

But the knowledge that he would be there, that she'd have to face him after all this time, sent a wave of anxiety crashing over her.

"I'm not mad, I promise," she said, the tightness in her jaw betraying her calm tone as she forced a smile. "It's just... complicated. I haven't seen him in a long time, so maybe this can be a good thing."

Clarke reached over, tentatively squeezing Y/N's hand. "I know," she murmured, her brow furrowed with concern.

"You guys are older now and have most of life figured out. Maybe you guys can be friends again? Get some closure."

Y/N nodded stiffly, her gaze trained straight ahead. The past had a way of clinging to her, of resurfacing when she least expected it. And with Luke, there was so much left unsaid, so many questions left unanswered that made her chest tighten.

Anastasia plopped down into the open seat next to her, a twist of fate that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. The redhead offered her a sidelong glance, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Looks like we'll be getting to know each other quite well on this trip," Anastasia remarked, her voice low and conspiratorial.

Y/N swallowed hard, the muscles in her neck tensing as she nodded in agreement. Little did she know, Anastasia's words held a weight that would soon become all too clear.

…

Luke’s POV

Luke stepped off the plane, the warm island breeze caressing his face and tousling his chestnut hair. The salty scent of the ocean filled his nostrils, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and tropical flowers.

He paused for a moment, taking it all in, the exotic smells washing over him and easing the tension in his shoulders.

Adjusting the strap of his backpack, Luke scanned the crowded airport, his eyes searching for familiar faces amidst the sea of tourists and locals.

A flash of recognition caught his attention, and he spotted his friends gathered near the baggage claim, their laughter and animated conversations rising above the din of the busy terminal.

A grin spread across his face as he made his way towards them, a mixture of excitement and a touch of nerves fluttering in his chest. "Hey, guys!" he called out, his voice carrying a hint of his trademark dorky charm.

Luke was excited to see his old friends again. His friends turned to greet him, their faces lit up with genuine smiles and enthusiastic handshakes.

They fell into an easy banter, discussing the itinerary for the joint bachelor party and good-naturedly teasing the groom-to-be about his upcoming nuptials.

Luke joined in the lively conversation, laughing and joking along with the others. But even as he participated, he couldn't quite shake the twinge of apprehension that gnawed at the back of his mind.

Y/N would be here, on this very island, and the thought of seeing her again after all this time sent a shiver down his spine.

"Hey, Luke, you planning on sweeping any of the local ladies off their feet this weekend?" one of his friends, Jared, elbowed him playfully.

Luke chuckled, trying to mask the underlying tension. "Nah, man, I'm here to support the groom, not to cause any trouble."

Another friend, Ethan, piped up. "Yeah, right. Like we don't all remember how you used to be the ultimate ladies' man back in the day."

"That was a lifetime ago," Luke shrugged, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. In truth, his mind was elsewhere, still consumed by the thought of reuniting with Y/N.

He could still vividly remember the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the softness of her skin under his fingertips, and the soothing way her voice could calm his worries.

Their fairy tale romance had been cut short by the demands of his burgeoning NHL career, the distance and the pressure ultimately proving too much for their relationship to withstand.

The breakup had been painful, a raw wound that had never fully healed. In the aftermath, they had lost touch, each of them focusing on their own lives and careers, trying to move forward without the other.

Now, as Luke prepared to see Y/N again, he found himself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

Would she still be the same girl he had fallen for all those years ago? Would the connection between them still be there, simmering beneath the surface? The uncertainty only served to heighten the nervous anxiety bubbling in his chest.

…

After three hours of painful silence on the plane, they finally made It back to the ground. y/n felt like she could finally breathe again as the fresh air hit her face. She was almost too grateful to be more than a few feet away from Anastasia.

Clarke led the way to the car rental counter, all seemed well until Anastasia suddenly let out an exasperated sigh. "Ugh, it looks like there's been some kind of mix-up with our reservation," she groaned, her brow furrowed in frustration.

Clarke's eyes went wide. "What do you mean? I double-checked everything before we left!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with worry.

Anastasia shot Y/N a pointed look. "Well, maybe if someone hadn't been so distracted, we wouldn't be in this mess," she huffed, her tone dripping with condescension.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment and confusion. "What are you talking about? I haven't done anything," she protested, her hands raised in a placating gesture.

The redhead rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. Don't play innocent with me. I saw the way you were eyeing the baggage carousel, completely oblivious to everything else around you."

"Woah relax!" Y/N exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch. "I was just looking around, making sure I didn't miss our luggage. There's no need to make this into a big deal, I mean what exactly is this mess-up you’re talking about."

Anastasia scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, it is a big deal when your carelessness jeopardizes our entire trip. Now we're going to have to waste time sorting this out instead of enjoying ourselves."

Clarke stepped in, placing a hand on Anastasia's shoulder in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Let's all just take a deep breath, okay? I'm sure we can figure this out," she said in a soothing tone, casting an apologetic glance in Y/N's direction.

Y/N felt her heart racing, she wanted nothing more than to escape the confrontation, to retreat to a quiet corner and gather her thoughts. But Anastasia's accusatory gaze kept her rooted to the spot, her pride and sense of fairness refusing to back down.

"I'm not the one who caused this problem, Anastasia," Y/N insisted, her voice laced with a hint of steel. "If you'd just calm down and let the rental agent handle it, I'm sure we can get this sorted out."

The redhead's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Y/N could have sworn she saw a spark of genuine malice in their depths. "Oh, I'm perfectly calm," Anastasia purred, her lips curling into a sardonic smile. "I'm just not going to let anyone ruin this trip for me. Especially not you."

After several tense minutes of negotiating with the rental agent, Clarke finally emerged with a set of keys, a strained smile on her face.

"Okay, everyone," she called out, waving the group over. "We got it all sorted out. Let's head to the car and get this show on the road!"

The girls filed towards the waiting vehicle, each one casting wary glances at Anastasia, who seemed to be in an especially foul mood. As Y/N reached for the handle of the front passenger door, the redhead suddenly pulled it open and slid into the seat, an triumphant smirk on her face.

Y/N froze, unsure if Anastasia was being serious. For a moment, she considered putting up a fight, asserting her rightful place in the front. But the odds already felt stacked against her, and she didn't want to risk escalating the situation further.

Letting out a resigned sigh, Y/N settled into the backseat, squeezing in next to Taylor. The brunette shot her an apologetic look, mouthing a silent "I don’t know what her deal is" as she placed a comforting hand on Y/N's arm.

…

The car pulled up to the beachfront property, and Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. The house was stunning, a perfect blend of modern architecture and tropical charm, nestled on a secluded stretch of pristine white sand.

The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled her ears, a soothing melody that did little to calm the butterflies fluttering restlessly in her stomach.

Y/N hung back, taking a moment to gather her composure while the girls tumbled out of the car. She watched as her friends eagerly grabbed their bags from the trunk, their faces aglow with the glow of the setting sun.

The last time she had been in this paradise-like setting, she had been with Luke, their young love blossoming amidst the sun-drenched days and moonlit nights. Now, the prospect of seeing him again after all these years sent a shiver of both trepidation and longing through her.

Emilia turned and noticed Y/N lingering behind. "Y/N! Are you coming inside?" she called out, her voice brimming with excitement.

Y/N mustered a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of the turmoil she felt. "I just... need a moment."

Emilia returned the smile and nodded in understanding before disappearing through the doorway, leaving Y/N to collect her thoughts. Steeling herself, Y/N reached for her suitcase and followed the group inside.

Exhaling a shaky breath, Y/N pushed open the car door and stepped out, embracing the warm, salty breeze that swept across the secluded beachfront property.

She was the last one to leave the vehicle, her luggage trailing behind her as she crossed the threshold, the car door clicking shut softly behind her - a subtle finality that seemed to seal her fate.

The walk to the kitchen felt like an eternity, each step a battle against the nerves that she couldn’t seem to shake off. Her heart pounded in her ears, a deafening rhythm that drowned out the chatter and laughter of her friends. She forced a smile onto her face, waving to Damien and his groomsmen as she entered the room, her eyes scanning the space almost involuntarily.

And then, as if by some magnetic force, her gaze landed on Luke.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as their eyes met, their gazes locking in a moment that was both thrilling and terrifying. This was it, the moment she had both anticipated and dreaded, the chance to confront the past she had spent years trying to outrun.

He was leaning against the kitchen island, his tall frame exuding an air of effortless confidence. The years had been kind to him, sculpting his features into a breathtaking work of art. His chestnut hair was tousled, as if he had just run his fingers through it, and his eyes, those deep pools of brown that had once held her captive, sparkled with mirth as he laughed at something one of the guys had said.

He looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine shoot, a perfect specimen of masculine beauty. Y/N felt her breath hitch, her heart skipping a beat as she drank in the sight of him. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if they were still those love-struck teenagers, stealing glances at each other across a crowded classroom.

Luke's expression shifted from surprise to a tentative smile, and Y/N felt her heart flutter, the familiar pull of their connection tugging at her very soul. She took a step forward, compelled by an invisible thread that bound them together, but the sound of Anastasia's voice piercing the charged silence shattered the moment, yanking Y/N back to reality.

"Y/N! There you are," the redhead chirped, her tone sugary sweet as she sidled up to Y/N, a possessive hand resting on her arm. "We were just about to start mixing cocktails. Care to join us?" Y/N tore her gaze away.

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'd love to help," Y/N managed, her voice betraying a hint of her nerves. She moved to the counter, her fingers fumbling as she tried to focus on the task at hand.

She could feel Luke's presence, even without looking at him, a palpable energy that crackled and sizzled in the space between them. It was going to be a long week, a test of her resolve and her ability to keep her heart in check.

With one last glance in Luke's direction, Y/N turned away.

…

Y/N plastered on a smile, pushing down the turmoil raging within as she joined the girls in the kitchen, their lively chatter and laughter a sharp contrast to the palpable tension coursing through her veins.

"Ah, there's our girl!" Anastasia crooned, draping a possessive arm around Y/N's shoulders and guiding her to the makeshift bar. "We were just about to start mixing some cocktails."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering towards the living room, where the groomsmen - including Luke - had gathered. She could feel his eyes on her, a pull so powerful it was as if he were a planet and she, a helpless moon in his gravitational field.

"Hey, Luke, looks like your old flame is getting her flirt on," Jared teased, elbowing the other man playfully.

Luke felt a flash of something akin to jealousy surge through him, but he quickly tamped it down, offering a casual shrug. "It's been a long time. I'm sure she's just being friendly."

Ethan chuckled, a devious grin spreading across his face. "Friendly, huh? Well, in that case, maybe one of us should go over there and help her out. You know, show her a real good time."

The group erupted in a chorus of laughter, their eyes trained on the girls as they moved around the kitchen, their movements graceful and flirtatious. She could feel the weight of their gazes, and she fought the urge to squirm under the scrutiny.

Anastasia, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on the attention, her hips swaying in a way that Y/N couldn't help but find a bit over-the-top.

Y/N felt a subtle unease creep up her spine as Anastasia's flirtatious behavior escalated, the redhead's touches and innuendos growing increasingly blatant. Trying to divert Anastasia's attention, Y/N turned to the other girls, forcing a smile onto her face.

"So ladies, how are you two planning to spend tonight?" she asked, silently pleading for backup.

Taylor grinned and leaned in conspiratorially. “I plan to spend it drunk, maybe some skinny dipping on the beach.” she winked.

Clarke, ever the diplomatic peacekeeper, stepped in, placing a hand on Anastasia's arm. "Alright, ladies, let's not hog all the fun. I'm sure the boys are getting thirsty over there." She flashed them a playful wink, her gaze shifting to Y/N, a silent message of reassurance passing between them.

"Oh, don't worry, Clarke. I'm sure the boys can entertain themselves for a while." She cast a pointed glance towards the living room, her lips curving into a coy smile. "After all, we girls need to have a little fun of our own, don't we, Y/N?" Anastasia's smooth, saccharine voice cut through the chatter.

Y/N felt her stomach twist with discomfort, the charged undercurrent in Anastasia's words raising all sorts of warning bells in her mind. Mustering a tight-lipped smile, she nodded, her eyes silently pleading with the other girls to steer the conversation in a different direction.

…

The initial excitement of the group's arrival had settled down, and the friends naturally split off into smaller clusters, catching up and exploring the luxurious beach house.

Luke stayed in the kitchen fighting with himself on what he should do. ‘Do I go to her?’ He thought to himself. ‘Can I mend three years of silence in a week?’

Caught up in the moment, Luke found himself gravitating towards the living room without another thought, muttering a 'fuck it' as his feet moved of their own accord.

It was as if he were being drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. He paused just a few feet away, clearing his throat tentatively. She was so lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the hypnotic rhythm of the ocean, that she didn't hear his approaching footsteps until his voice broke through her reverie.

"It's good to see you again," he said, his voice low and warm.

Y/N turned, her heart leaping into her throat as she came face to face with Luke. Up close, he was even more striking, his features sharper and more defined than she remembered.

"Luke," she breathed, his name feeling both foreign and familiar on her tongue. "Yeah, it is good to see you. It's been a while."

He smiled, a lopsided grin that sent a flutter of excitement through her chest. "Two years, give or take," he said softly, his gaze never leaving hers. "You look... amazing by the way."

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck, a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical climate. "Thanks," she managed to choke out. "You look better, happier..."

There was a beat of silence as they drank in each other's presence, the weight of the years that had passed palpable between them.

Y/N's mind raced, desperately searching for the right words, the perfect way to bridge the gap that had grown. There was so much she wanted to say, so many questions she longed to ask, but the words seemed to catch in her throat, trapped behind the turbulent surge of emotions.

Luke, too, seemed to be grappling with his own thoughts, his brow furrowed slightly as he studied her face, as if trying to commit every detail to memory.

"I saw you play the other week, I'm happy things are working out for you," Y/N began, looking between his face and their friends running on the beach.

"You saw the game?" Luke questioned, his expression shifting to one of shock.

"I was there in person," she admitted, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"Wait, what...How come you didn't say hi?" he pressed, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. "I saw you with some girls, didn't want to interrupt," she confessed, her gaze dropping for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

Luke let out a soft chuckle, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "So you were stalking me, huh?" he teased.

The familiar banter brought a smile to Y/N's face, the tension easing ever so slightly. "I was just watching, sugar," she murmured, the endearment slipping out before she could stop herself.

The moment the words left her lips, Y/N felt a wave of mortification wash over her. She hadn't used that name in three years, and one casual encounter with Luke had her mind instantly reverting to the intimacy of their past. Biting her lip, she averted her gaze, silently willing the ground to open up and swallow her.

Luke, however, seemed to revel in the familiar moniker, his expression softening as a hint of nostalgia flickered across his features.

"It's good to hear you say that again," he admitted quietly, his hand reaching out to gently brush against hers, a spark of electricity crackling between them at the fleeting touch.

The spell was broken by the arrival of Damien, the groom-to-be, who drunkenly stumbled onto Luke, clapping him on the back and pulled him into a boisterous conversation with the group outside.

…

Fat raindrops pelted against the windows as a rumbling clap of thunder rolled overhead. Y/N stood under the covered porch, watching in amusement as the rest of the group made a mad dash from the beach toward the houses front door.

Taylor was bringing up the rear, squealing as the downpour quickly soaked through her thin t-shirt. She reached the porch last, bangs plastered to her forehead and mascara smudged under her eyes. Shivering, she flung open the door and stumbled inside, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her.

Y/N chuckled and followed Taylor into the cozy entryway. The others were already shaking out their damp hair and peeling off soaked outer layers.

Taylor pouted as a few stray droplets rolled down her neck, then broke into a impish grin. She extended her arms out to her sides, approaching Y/N.

"Don't you dare!" Y/N warned with a laugh, backing away. Her heel caught on a throw rug and she pitched backward, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation of the hard floor.

Instead, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist, catching her against a firm chest. Y/N's eyes fluttered open to find Luke's concerned gaze inches from her own.

His rain-drenched curls were flattened against his forehead and rivulets of water trailed down his chiseled jawline. His chest heaved as he caught his breath from running inside to escape the downpour.

"Whoa there, you okay?" His warm breath fanned across her cheeks. Up close, Y/N caught the scent of his cologne mingling with the fresh, earthy smells of the rainstorm.

Taylor failed to smother a giggle, shaking out her wet hair like a dog. "I think someone could use a towel."

Luke kept his arm looped protectively around Y/N's waist as he shot Taylor a playful glare. "Yeah, if someone hadn't tried drenching her with a bear hug."

Y/N felt her cheeks growing warm as Luke kept his arm looped around her waist, holding her body flush against his. His taut abdomen pressed into her back, and she was hyper-aware of his warm breath fanning across her neck. Y/N forced a laugh. "Exactly, it's all your fault."

"What's with all the racket?" Damien emerged from one of the doorways, tousling his wild, disheveled hair. He smirked at the intimate way Luke was embracing Y/N. "Oh brother, would you two just screw already and get it over with!"

Y/N's eyes went wide at Damien's crude joke, but Luke just chuckled lowly. His thumb stroked an absent-minded circle into her hipbone, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You staying up for a bit?" Luke asked in a low rumble, realizing he still had Y/N enveloped in his arms. "Not tired, Lukey?" She teased back, relaxing against his solid frame.

Luke's chocolate eyes danced with amusement. "I was tired until I saw you again. I think we have some catching up to do." He flashed her a bright, lopsided smile that made her knees go weak.

…

Taking her hand, Luke led Y/N away from the others down a hallway, throwing a roguish wink over his shoulder at Damien before disappearing around the corner. She held her breath while Luke led her into the sunroom.

It was the epitome of cozy comfort - golden lamps bathed the space in a warm glow, and the large spare bed was piled high with plush blankets and pillows.

Luke started moving towards the inviting bed, but Y/N quickly arched one leg out to block his path. "Ah ah, your shirt is still drenched. You can't get on the bed like that."

He flashed her a roguish grin before grasping the hem of his t-shirt and tugging it smoothly up and over his head in one fluid motion.

Y/N's eyes widened as his toned torso and chiseled abs were revealed. He tossed the soaked shirt aside carelessly and settled onto the bed, leaving a respectable distance between them.

Y/N instantly regretted speaking up. She couldn't believe the casual, unhesitating way he had stripped off his shirt right in front of her, as if they were still intimately involved.

A flush crept up her neck as memories flooded back of when they were dating - she had been an awestruck teenager, hungrily drinking in every newly exposed inch of his body as they learned each other.

Now she was the flustered one, feeling like that bashful girl again as she took in the sight of his muscular build, the breadth of his shoulders tapering down to those abs she used to love tracing with her fingertips...

Y/N swallowed hard as Luke reclined back on the plush bed, muscles rippling underneath tanned skin. He propped himself up on one elbow, giving her an unobstructed view of his chiseled torso and abs.

"See something you like?" Luke's voice was a deep rumble, vibrating straight through Y/N. He arched one brow cockily, the corner of his lips curling into that trademark.

Heat bloomed across Y/N's cheeks as memories of their past intimacies flooded her mind. She averted her gaze, trying to regain her composure. "Don't flatter yourself."

Luke tsked, shaking his head slowly. "Now, now. No need to be shy, gorgeous." He patted the space next to him invitingly. "Why don't you come join me? We have years of catching up to do."

Y/N's pulse fluttered wildly as she wavered, torn between the warmth pooling in her belly and her lingering hurt over how things had ended with Luke. Throwing caution to the wind, she settled gingerly on the edge of the bed, back ramrod straight.

"Relax." Luke's fingertips ghosted along her arm, raising goosebumps. "You're so tense. Come here. Let me help you with that..."

His hands found her shoulders, kneading the tight muscles there with strong strokes. Y/N stifled a moan, hating how easily he could still unravel her with his touch alone. She felt him shift closer until his bare chest was a hair's breadth away, the heat radiating off him in waves.

"There, that's better," Luke purred in her ear, his mouth so close she could feel the whisper of his lips against her skin. "Now, why don't you tell me everything I've missed?"

Y/N shivered at the feel of Luke's breath fanning warmly against her neck. She forced herself to remain still, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how flustered he made her.

"So," she began, proud that her voice came out stronger than she felt. "Where should we start?”

Y/N stifled a moan as Luke's strong hands kneaded the tense muscles of her shoulders and upper back. She cursed the traitorous shiver that rippled through her at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against her arm.

She had to gather her wits, made difficult by the intoxicating combination of his heated touch and masculine musk surrounding her. "Well, I finally moved out of that cramped apartment into an actual house back in Michigan."

"A home all to yourself?" Luke's hands stilled momentarily, drawing her gaze to the admiring look smoldering in his eyes. "I'm impressed”

His fingertips trailed scorching paths down her arms as he resettled behind her, the solid wall of his chest pressing against her back once more. Y/N bit her lip against the fresh wave of arousal cresting through her.

She pressed on, “anyway the job has been great. Challenging but great. Though I did have a boyfriend for a while in the midst of everything..."

The words had an immediate effect on Luke. His jaw tightened perceptibly and his eyes flashed dangerously, like a wolf catching the scent of a threat. "A boyfriend, huh?" His voice was low and controlled, but Y/N could hear the undercurrent of primal possessiveness.

She nodded, holding his intense gaze. "Yeah, we dated for several months after you...left."

Luke seemed to wrestle with reining in his reaction. When he spoke again, his tone was carefully measured. "I see. And what became of this...boyfriend?"

Y/N shrugged one shoulder casually, though her pulse was thundering in her ears. "It didn't work out. The passion wasn't really there, at least not on my end."

Luke tsked again, making that infuriatingly sexy sound. At that, some of the tension drained from Luke's frame and a faint smirk played across his lips. "No passion, huh? Can't relate."

His fingers trailed up the side of her neck, sending sparks ricocheting across her sensitized skin. In one smooth motion, he reached out and cupped her jawline, thumb brushing her parted lips. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he murmured, "I missed you every single day, you know."

"I want you back. However, I can have you." His calloused thumb stroked her lower lip as he inched closer, arousal darkening his eyes to a deep black. "Let me make up for lost time..."

…

Lmk what you think please! Part 2?

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut #fluff #angst #masterlist #x reader #lh43 #nj devils #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes imagine

[exhaslo]

Hi again! I hope you’re doing well. I see you’re open for requests, and I have an interesting and NSFW one.

So we already have fics involving Miguel having a heat/mating cycle due to his spliced DNA with Spider DNA. How about Spider![Reader] [FEMALE] being in heat this time and she avoids everyone in the Spider Society, especially Miguel, her own “secret boyfriend”. She’s usually friendly with everyone, but recently acting like she was “sick” and doesn’t want anyone near her. However, Miguel caught wind of this and he brought her back to his lair/office (as a caring boyfriend worried about his girlfriend), [Reader] begs him to “help” with her situation.

Then things got heated and he helped relieve [Reader]’s libido.

- @club-danger-zone

Hehehehehehehe

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, breeding kink, overstimulation, begging, creampie, fingering

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

What did you do so wrong in your life to deserve this horrible side effect of being half-Spider?

Why did such a thing have to happen to you?

This felt like a cruel punishment given only to you. The hero of this damn city. Someone who fought for those who couldn't; someone who fought for good; why did you have to be cursed with something so tempting and primal?

You suffered from heat, or a mating cycle as some would call it. Every now and then you would suddenly have to urge to have sex and want to get pregnant. It wasn't something you could control, nor did you enjoy suffering from it.

You had tolerated it for the most part. Save up enough money so you could call out of work during this time. Had a variety of different toys to pleasure yourself with until the pain goes away.

But this time, it was different.

You weren't sure why, but honestly you could make a few guesses. There were only a few small changes in your life since the last heat cycle. Between your personal issues and the Spider Society, your main guess for the new pain was...

Your boyfriend.

You've never been in a relationship before until now. Your heat was going crazy probably because you had a source to get pregnant now. The only issue is that you and Miguel hadn't gotten that far yet. The two of you were in a secret relationship.

Miguel was the leader of the Spider Society. It was frowned upon to be dating between dimensions. Miguel always said that you were a special case, which was why he broke that rule. You loved Miguel and were happy with him...but you never told him this secret.

Groaning softly, you laid against your bed, your fingers working furiously. Nothing was good enough. Nothing was reliving you. Your heat wasn't going away.

Recalling how Miguel's futurist world had cures for nearly everything, you felt a light bulb appear. Perhaps, there was something to calm down your heat? Hurrying to your suit, you whimpered as you used your watch to transport to the Spider Society.

-------

Miguel had just returned from a mission, grunting loudly as he dragged the anomaly behind him. Miguel was tired and frustrated. As he walked around the Spider Society, Miguel couldn't help but hear some of the others talk about you acting strange.

Curious about what was going on with his girlfriend, Miguel hurried to find you. He threw the anomaly in the cell and had Lyla search for your watch location. He was surprised to find you in one of the bathrooms.

Making his way over, Miguel made sure to enter when no one else was inside. He locked the door and approached the stall you were in.

"(Y/n), are you alright, mi amor? (My love)" Miguel asked softly as you cried.

"N-No, I'm in pain, Miggy," You sobbed. Miguel quickly opened the door, bending down to your level,

"What's wrong?" He asked, wiping your tears away.

Miguel watched as your breathing shuddered the moment he touched you. The look in your eyes were lustful as you merely whimpered, tugging against his arm. You were acting strange. Miguel went to pick you up, causing you to whine and wrap your arms around his neck.

"Migs...P-Please help me. I need...I need you." Your voice was so desperate and sweet.

"(Y/n), is this a side effect of your spider biting you in your world?" Miguel asked softly as he quickly took you to his lair.

"Mhm, y-yes. I...I'm in....h-heat," You were so cute as you barely got the words out.

"Ah-"

Miguel finally felt the click as you told him. Looking around at his large lair, Miguel knew that this would not be private enough, nor comfortable for you. So, he took you to a spare bedroom in the Spider Society and locked the door.

Right as Miguel turned around, you had already taken your clothes off. You were on your knees, practically crying as you begged Miguel to hurry.

"Aye, amor, how can I go easy on you like this?"

---------

Your mind was starting to grow fuzzy. The pain was too much, especially since Miguel was going to help you. Your clothes were getting uncomfortable so you had to remove them. You inhaled deeply as Miguel approached you, stroking your cheek.

"Mhm~"

The warmth of his hand instantly melted you. You grabbed onto Miguel, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sloppy, but you needed this. Miguel proceeded to press your body against the bed as his tongue ravished your mouth.

His hands were all over you, giving you that desperate touch you needed. Gasping, Miguel's fingers easily entered your soaked cunt, touching you in all the places you had been needing to be touch. The curl of his fingers against your gummy walls, caused you to moan and cry.

"So wet, amor. How long have you suffered from this?"

"Ah~ Ah~ S-So long....n-need you, Miggy~" You cried, shaking from cumming against his fingers.

"No, (Y/n), how long today."

"Hnnn, hours! M-Miguel, please! F-Fuck me!" You begged.

Your body needed more. The burning sensation was finally starting to go away, you just needed more. Miguel grunted softly, kissing your neck as he raised your legs. You were clenching to air, anticipating the fantastic feeling you were about to endure.

Tears started to form as you felt Miguel poke your entrance. His kisses a bit more rough as his cock started to make room inside of you. Pure bliss soared from your pussy to your brain as his thick cock stretched your gummy walls.

"I always imagined our first time...a bit more romantic," Miguel whispered, grunting softly as he kept pushing.

"S-Sorry t-that...ah~ I-I can't...mhm contro-"

"Shh, don't be sorry," Miguel grunted, finally setting fully inside of you, "I'll make sure to give you as much as you want. I'm happy to help."

You just moaned to his words, feeling his cock kissing your cervix. Your pussy fluttering around his cock as you cam from insertion. The warmth you were feeling was building up inside you. That knot growing as you moved your hips, needing more friction.

With each thrust, you started to lose your senses. Every slap of Miguel's hips brought you to heaven. Your body just melted against his as the noises the two of you made because almost pornographic. The wet slapping noises over powering his grunts.

"You're so loud, amor. Everyone will hear you," Miguel grunted as he pressed you into mating position, "What do I have to do to keep you quiet?"

"C-Cum, ah~ i-inside~" You cried, shuddering from the overstimulation.

The burning sensation was finally going away and all you wanted was Miguel to fill you. Breed you. Each slap of his cock inside you was almost painful from how sensitive you were. Jolts were shocking every part of you.

"Anything for you,"

Miguel groaned softly in your ear as he gave you his first hot load. You moaned, shuddering from cumming again. Your body was feeling sore, but you kept begging for more. This was too good to stop. Miguel's cock made it's home inside of you.

-------

Miguel gripped your hips as he kept fucking you stupid. Your moans were so loud and sexy that he couldn't hold back. Your pussy was dripping against the bedsheets, coating his cock white. His cum threatening to spill out of your poor pussy.

Your eyes were glossed over with a fucked out expression, drool nearly rolling down your lips. Cursing lowly as Miguel felt you squeezer against his dick again, he tried to control himself. Your body kept begging for more, no matter how fragile you both were now.

"Mig-" You choked, sobbing from pleasure, "M-More...j-just..."

Your words were barely coming out. Miguel frowned at the state you were in, but couldn't refuse. He brought you in for another deep kiss before giving you another heavy load.

--------

A soft groan escaped your lips as you started to wake up. Your vision was blurred, but once you started to come to, you noticed that you were in Miguel's place.

"Hn-" You winced, trying to sit up but couldn't.

"Don't move. You're body is still sore and exhausted. Here's some water," Miguel sighed softly, sitting beside you to give you the drink, "How are you feeling now?"

"M-Miguel," Your voice was low and scratchy, "I-I'm sorry...I...I made you-"

"You didn't make me do anything. I offered to help, besides, I can't resist my poor girlfriend in pain," He cooed, kissing your head.

"Sorry,"

"Just next time, (Y/n), tell me when your heat starts. I want to make sure you get your fill before you come crying to me."

Feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you nuzzled against Miguel, agreeing to his offer. Hopefully with Miguel helping you, there will be less heats.

Ha.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!!!

#spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x reader

[burst-of-iridescent]

No, Shipping Zutara Is Not Supporting Amatonormativity (Please Use Some Fucking Braincells For Once)

- a treatise by a severely pissed off aroace zutara shipper

since words don’t mean anything anymore (if they ever did on the esteemed piss-on-the-poor website), let’s start with a definition.

amatonormativity: the set of social assumptions that everyone prospers with a romantic relationship, thereby positioning marriage as a universal goal of adult life. amatonormativity forms the basis of several institutional structures that are built to cater to romantic bonds over all others, also manifesting in social pressure on individuals to find a romantic partner by pushing the false narrative that those who do not experience romance are automatically lonely, unhappy and unfulfilled. it is usually characterized by the prioritization of romantic love over other forms of love, particularly platonic.

the anti-zutara argument based on this is as follows: wanting zutara to happen is amatonormative because it a) devalues zuko and katara’s platonic bond b) pushes the idea that men and women can’t be friends and c) doesn’t align with the themes of the show, as romantic love was never the point of atla.

i would like to take the time today to tell you that this is some fucking bullshit, for the following reasons:

one, this may come as a shock to some of you, but zutara shippers did not invent the concept of romantic love in avatar: the last airbender. you are more than welcome to criticize the pairings of suki/sokka, katara/aang, mai/zuko, yue/sokka, jin/zuko, jet/katara, and even kanna/pakku for perpetuating amatonormativity through their unnecessary romantic subplots. and if you don’t have anything to say about any of those pairings, then here’s a word for you: hypocrite.

zk shippers are not introducing the taint of romantic love into some kind of wholesome platonic utopia where it never existed. when we say zutara should have been canon, it is a statement that ends with the implicit instead of kat.aang and mai.ko tacked on at the back because if we were going to get a romantic relationship anyway, it might as well have been one that was well-developed, narratively impactful, and thematically relevant.

two, saying zutara is amatonormative is fucking rich when the main “romance” of atla is a three season long struggle to get out of the friendzone. aang’s desire to be in a romantic relationship with katara is one of his primary motivations throughout the show, and not once does either he or the narrative ever entertain the thought that just being katara’s friend might be enough. to the contrary, aang’s crush and the potential of its reciprocation is a fundamental part of how the story gets its audience to invest in both his character and the kat.aang relationship. they want you to want him to get the girl, and that’s the driving force of the ship’s development from start to finish.

you can see the influence of this in the way people defend why kat.aang had to happen: “aang would be crushed!” “it would break aang’s heart!” “aang deserves to be happy!” and that in and of itself is more amatonormative than any version of romantic zutara, as if this idea that aang is somehow doomed to a life of misery and loneliness just because he can’t be with the girl he likes isn’t inherently based on the assumption that platonic love can’t be as meaningful and satisfying as romantic love.

three, let’s be so fucking fr: a show written by cishet men in the early 2000s was not “subverting amatonormativity” by not making zutara happen, especially not when they went for the fucking olympic gold of romantic cliches — the hero gets the girl trope — instead. otherwise, why did the entire show end with an uncomfortably long liplock? if romance would’ve devalued zuko and katara’s platonic bond, then what the everloving fuck happened to their friendship in the comics and the legend of korra?

it is blatantly false to say that zutara shippers are the ones devaluing their platonic bond when the creators did it first. they evidently don’t view zutara’s platonic bond as equal to kat.aang’s romantic one, judging by their treatment of both relationships in the comics and LOK and the fact that they talked about kat.aang “winning” the ship war in the first place. because if the two relationships were of equivalent standing, why would there be a winner and a loser at all?

amatonormativity is baked into the DNA of atla, and while some people choose to reject this framework entirely (zk friendship >>> ka romance anyday), it is also not wrong for zk shippers to be annoyed at the treatment zutara received within the context of said framework. since the creators clearly thought a romantic relationship was better than a platonic one, they could at least have picked the couple that actually made sense instead of adding insult to injury by making that romance kat.aang. it is not amatonormative to acknowledge that zutara was not afforded the distinction it should have been in the eyes of those who wrote it, because it’s obvious that the decision to keep zuko and katara’s relationship platonic wasn’t to respect their friendship, but to position them as inferior to kat.aang.

four, detractors of romantic zutara often argue that their platonic relationship is inherently better & i’ve discussed before why that isn’t the case, but i also hate this argument because it’s perpetuating the very thing that aromantic people are trying to get rid of in the first place: the hierarchization of love. it is not the “gotcha!” you think it is to genuinely state that platonic love is better than romantic love, because it’s still buying into the idea that there’s some kind of order to categorizing human relationships. the solution to amatonormativity isn’t changing what form of love gets to be at the top of the list — it’s doing away with the hierarchy entirely.

i ship zuko and katara because canon already gave me their friendship. i already know what their platonic relationship looks like and that gives me more room for imagination in developing their romantic one because it’s a place canon didn’t go.

at the end of the day, friendship and romance are just different avenues of exploring intimacy. neither is inherently more valuable than the other, and neither is inherently more problematic. and if you truly believe in dismantling amatonormative beliefs, you would recognize that making a distinction between the two is only perpetuating the problem, not challenging it.

#zutara #anti kataang #anti atla #anti bryke #amatonormativity #thanks to you idiots now i have to be out here as a romance repulsed aro defending romantic love on main #i enjoy a friendship better than romance joke as much as the next aro #but if we’re using it as a genuine argument… come on now

[yappersblog]

adore you — emily engstler [requested]

request. “the cameras at emily's game are always panning towards you be ur in complete awe of her and everyone loves it : and theres a moment where its halftime and its a cute segment of you and emily being cute n kissing 🥹”

tag-list. @euphternal

synopsis. every moments of emily’s matches are important—but the most loved ones are definitely the ones with you in it.

author’s note. loooove this! i’m still working on the other requests, don’t worry, i’m just posting the ones that i’ve already done. i don’t know if it’s good, i’m quite skeptical about ut but i tried my best. hope you’ll like this 💖

help. schatz means treasure in german.

“oh god, wait for me please!” you practically shout, trying to make your voice perceptible among the screaming crowds.

“take my hand” emily’s sister screams to you, grabbing your hand in hers and leading you through the basket-ball court—whose filled with people, coaches and cameras ready to record.

while searching for your seats, you can’t help but smile a little when you see more than half of the stands being full of fans—all of them wearing their favorite team’s jersey, some even waving their hand-made board in the air; trying to get one of the players’ attention.

you didn’t expect today’s match to be this full, but you’re not the one complaining—being genuinely happy to witness the fans’ interest increasing for your girl’s team.

the louisville team’s girls work really hard every single day. so, watching them getting the recognition they deserve can’t do anything but warm your heart.

looking around you, you feel the hand of em’s sister tightening around yours; the big-ass crowds scaring you two a little bit—even though you got used to it, it still feels a little bit scary to be surrounded by hundreds of people who don’t really care about pushing you down the floor, or even squashing you and not apologising for it.

“right here!” it’s your turn to lead danielle to your seats, once you finally find them.

climbing up the little stairs, you smile to the few fans that recognise you—even ask some of them how they are doing—and finally take place on your assigned chair, danielle sitting next to you.

“it’s so full today, what even happened?” she says, taking her phone out of her pocket to send her little sister a message—letting the latter know that the two of you are still alive.

“don’t know. it’s cool though, maybe they’ll stop sleeping on emily” you shrug, the blonde laughing at your pouting face.

everyone knows that you’re emily’s number one fan.

firstly because it is your girlfriend duties to be supportive, but also because the cameramen always find a way to sneak footage of you cheering loudly on your girl—ass off your chair, mouth wide open and all.

at first, it was only little sequences of you encouraging em and the team.

but at some point, those little sequences became longer ones—ones where we can see you getting from a cheering state, to a love-sick one; heart-eyeing your girl each time she was in your radar (which means every time since you’re obsessed with her).

the fans found your behaviour endearing.

but what they found even more endearing, were all the half-times when you couldn’t help yourself but run down those stairs and join emily’s awaiting arms—snatching some coo’s out the crowds.

slowly, your whole persona started to attract attention.

everyone loved how much care and support you gave to your girlfriend. you always let her know that she’s doing so well, ramble about how she’s a brilliant player full of talent and that her hard-work will always pay off.

and they adored the way you didn’t care about the cameras—still ready to get up from your seat to shout loudly if it was needed.

the cameramen kind of understood the people’s attraction; and finding your reactions interesting enough to be filmed, they couldn’t help but start feeding it—cameras following your every little moves when you were seen at a game.

it doesn’t really bother you; you might not even notice it, too caught up in the game to do so—only realising that you’re being filmed when danielle’s elbow hit your side, or when the little laughs around you get a little bit louder.

since then, the photographs’ pastime always turns out to be recording your slightest reactions.

“oh gosh, they’re already on your ass” you hear danielle chuckles on your right, the palm of her hand hiding her smiling lips. “how does it feel to be a superstar?” she asks right away, amused by this whole situation.

“dumb ass…” she laughs again when you press your elbow against her side, and you smile a little—eyes focused on the court in front of you.

a few minutes pass by; your girlfriend’s sister and you chatting during each one of them, before abruptly stopping to loudly cheer when the players finally make their entrance.

you were already cheering, but now that you finally see your baby walking out the dressing-room, you’re cheering twice as loudly—and you can’t help it. it’s like an automatic reflex type of shit.

from up there, you see emily looking around the stands—snatching more screams from the fans—and then getting attacked by hailey, who jumps on her back while pointing at you and danielle.

locking eyes with your girl, you practically feel your cheeks hurting from smiling too much. “she’s so, UGH” danielle bursts out laughing, and you smile a little—still mesmerised by your girl’s beauty.

from her neatly braided hair, to her sexy-ass tattooed legs, everything about her makes you a giggling mess. and the cameraman, whose been recording you since the beginning, seems to be living for it.

your eyes still locked, you take advantage of her not doing anything and tell her that you love her—ready to shout it out without a doubt, with your face on the national television or not.

hearing your scream, the whole louisville team’s burst with laughter—some of them teasing emily, who don’t seem to care; too busy saying it back to you.

“you two are so cute, it’s sickening” you hear danielle mumbling, the girl shaking her head like a disappointed mom. it’s your turn to laugh, pinching her cheek.

“awww, we love you too dan’” she rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless when you press a little kiss on her cheekbone. “jealous bitch…” you mutter once you’re comfortably seated, danielle gasping loudly before slapping your arms a few times.

the opposite teams dap each other’s up, and soon enough—the match begins.

your ass, during the whole first part of it, is definitely not on your chair, too busy cheering like there’s no tomorrow to do so. you even argued with the referee from your seat, danielle laughing her ass off next to you and the cameras setting their lens on your screaming figure.

it’s already half-time when danielle leaves to go get drinks and snacks, leaving you alone.

some fans sitting behind you call your name, and next second, you’re turned in their direction—speaking about the match and the louisville team’s score.

too caught up in your discussion, you don’t even remember yourself to turn in your seat and watch your girlfriend—but one of the girls in front of you does it for you, her eyes trailing on the basket-ball court before widening in shock. “oh my god! emily ensgtler’s looking in our direction!” she screams, attracting some of the crowd’s attention.

spinning on your chair, you can’t help but smile with all your teeth when you lock eyes with your girl—the german waving her hand in your direction, silently asking you to run down those stairs; which you are already doing.

“baby—oh!” she lets out a small scream when your whole body violently collides with hers, her tattooed arms automatically moving to wrap themselves around your waist.

smiling against the skin of her neck, you embraced her as hard as you can, not even minding her sweaty state.

the two of you swing a little from left to right, entangled with each other, before you finally decide to get your face out of her collarbone—puckering your lips for her to press hers against them.

humming into the kiss, you don’t even hear the crowd cooing, enamoured by the blonde girl in front of you. “you played so well baby” she smiles softly, pride and appreciation filling her up. “‘m so proud of you, you don’t even know how much” you add, locking your eyes with hers—letting her know that everything’s coming out your mouth is sincere.

“thank you baby, means a lot” you know that she’s not heavy on expressing her feelings and all—especially not in front of hundreds of people—so you appreciate her trying. “you know, i couldn’t play so well if my little cheerleader wasn’t there” she pinches your hip, watching intently as your cheeks become red.

“it’s my job, i take it very personally!” the blonde laughs, her smile making your heart melts.

her inked fingers get tighter on the fabric of your pants. “oh i know schatz, i know…” a little silence takes place—and you rest your forehead against hers.

being with emily is like muting the world’s noises, everything’s become clear and much more bearable.

she’s like every illnesses’ remedy—or at-least to yours, because, ironically enough, you swear you’ve never been this healthy before.

she brings to you so much happiness, love and care, and you do it too—drowning her under tons of affection and appreciation.

to you, it feels like you were put on earth to complete each other.

to the cameras, you were just another cute couple who happens to be very supportive of each other—one showing it more than the other, by screaming and shouting cheers every time she gets the chance to.

but who cares about what they can possibly think about you two?

as long as you’re still here to loudly cheer on her, and that she has your body in between her arms at the end of the day—emily doesn’t give two fucks.

written by © yappersblog, i do not accept plagiarism—this is my work and only mine.

#yappersblog ☆ #emily engstler #emily engstler fluff #emily engstler x reader #wcbb #emily engstler imagine #paige bueckers #emily engstler x y/n #paige bueckers x reader #hailey van lith #louisville #louisville wbb team #wcbb fluff #wcbb x reader #caitlin clark #kk arnold #imagine #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers imagine #emily engstler fic #emily engstler x oc #x reader #wnba fluff #wnba x reader #wlw

[bebeyeyo]

i love everything you do. | 이바다

genre: fluff

pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

setting: highschool au

content warnings: bullying, mentions of bruises and blood, ableism

disclaimer: reader is blind; and this has been in my drafts for too long. enjoy </3

the feeling of being on cloud nine was always there whenever you were with bada.

you’ve always heard she was such a sweetheart with everyone, and this included you.

especially with you.

she treated you like a fragile being; one that deserves nothing but the best, even when you both had become the best of friends.

her acts of service had always been present, such as giving you her arm for whenever you’re both walking together. this includes for whenever you had to go down the steps of the school.

you’d always reassure her that you can do it by yourself, but she’d always insist.

or holding your things for you. even walking you home.

she wants to make sure you get home safely, but also gave her an excuse to be with you more often.

beginning the next stage of your friendship was the icing on the cake. you had a nervous and dorky bada asking you out with a bouquet of flowers.

of course, you said yes.

another reason you felt so happy with bada: she had never once judged you for the fact you had a visual impairment.

she never once tried to bring it into conversation or ask any questions, though you wouldn’t have minded.

bada treated you like a normal human being.

except, some others only saw you as “different” and decided to make you their target.

your biggest bully yet was im nayeon.

you had never understood as to why she loved picking on you so much, but you’ve always had to endure it alone.

bada didn’t like this one bit.

you stood at your locker putting in your combination for your locker when you felt someone shove you, making you things fall from your hands.

hearing the familiar laughter of nayeon, you sigh deeply out of frustration, your hands balling into fists.

“what is the reason you are picking on me again, nayeon? are you that bored or just insecure?” you ask.

she just scoffs, “how about you actually look at me when talking, you freak? you can’t even do that right.” nayeon waved her hand in front of your face.

with no hesitation, you swatted her hand out of the way which shocked nayeon and most people who were just bystanders.

the older girl didn’t like this, anger boiling in her veins.

“oh? she wants to fight back now?” you feel nayeon kick you over, causing you to land on your knees on the hard floor making you wince.

it’ll leave a bruise or two, for sure.

“cmon then, freak. fight me back!” suddenly you feel nayeon push your head into the floor, causing your ears to ring and you cry out holding your head.

everyone who was watching all stood with shocked expressions before you felt nayeon’s foot kick your stomach, as well.

you groan holding your stomach, the ringing in your ears didn’t stop.

you couldn’t register what happened, but all you heard was nayeon whispering what sounded like an “oh shit” before running off.

thankfully, two of your friends, jimin and minjeong were nearby and were quick to help you to the nurse’s office.

thankfully, the ringing in your ears had finally stopped once your parents had gotten you to the hospital.

your father? hysterical. your mother? rage.

needless to say, you explained the situation with nayeon in a very weak manner from feeling so sleepy and ill.

your mother was ready to sue nayeon and her family left and right for what they were worth.

your father considered suing them and the school all together for letting this happen to you.

you tried talking them out of it to calm them down, but you gave up when you saw your father suddenly calling the school.

plus, you just wanted to get home and rest.

but, no one was as angry as your girlfriend that day.

bada was relieved you were okay, obviously.

truthfully, she wanted to bury nayeon six feet under.

which is why she was stomping up to nayeon at her locker, bystanders all watching with eyes wide open. almost everyone of the school knew that bada was a sweetheart, but when she was angry, you didn’t want to cross her.

“the hell is your problem?” bada says with the anger bubbling in her.

nayeon turns around confused, “what’re you even talking about, bada?”

the taller girl rolls her eyes, “don’t play fucking dumb, nayeon. you sent my girlfriend to the hospital.”

nayeon only smiles and chuckles.

“oh! you mean y/n. yeah what about it?”

“you’ve got some fucking nerve making fun of a disabled person. what has y/n ever done to you? are you that insecure?”

“oh please. i’m insecure of a girl who can’t see? humor me.” nayeon shrugs it off.

bada finally snapped, “oh, really? you think it’s funny? is this funny?”

nayeon felt bada push her head, the same way nayeon had slammed your head. except, the nearest obstacle was the lockers, so bada chose with the easiest route to go.

even tho she wanted to do so much more.

she had the thought of pouring bleach into the girl’s eyes. then again, she’d definitely be put behind bars.

can’t afford that, she thought.

nayeon held her head in pain before shouting, “are you fucking crazy?!”

bada only smirks.

“maybe i am, but you’ll be more much sooner,” bada gets close in nayeon’s face, so close that they could feel each other’s breath blowing.

“i’m only going to say this once, so you better fucking listen. although, i know that’s hard for you to do. if you ever so much as look in y/n’s direction from here on out, or try anything against her, i will fucking ruin you. you forget, i know your family and their reputation. i can easily ruin yours and theirs with just a whisper.” bada threatens.

the fear in nayeon’s eyes added satisfaction to her pride.

nayeon could barely register before she felt bada shove past her.

but if nayeon wasn’t embarrassed and angry then, she totally was now.

“you brought me flowers?” you ask as you sit on the edge of your bed, smelling the lillies that bada had bought for you.

“of course. can’t i get some flowers for my lovely girl?”

“what did you do?” you instantly ask.

she pouts, “why do you assume such a thing?”

“because i can feel you did something so spit it out.” you chuckle.

“well,” she starts, “i may have had a word with nayeon…maybe pushed her head a little…into her locker.”

your jaw drops a bit, “bada!”

“okay okay, look, it’s just karma. she’s a fucking bitch and she shouldn’t be so damn ableist. i should make her blind.” she crosses her arms.

you shake your head, “bada, i appreciate you for defending me. trust me i do, but i don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“…i know.” she mumbles.

“so please, no fighting.” you take her hand and squeeze.

reluctantly, she agrees.

“and besides, how can you be there to be my knight in shining armor if you’re stuck in detention?” you ask as you put your head on her shoulder.

“hm, you’ve got a good point.” you giggle along with her.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, y/n.” she says as she kisses your forehead.

#bebeyeyo #bada lee fic #bada lee x fem!reader #bada lee x reader

[ghost-bxrd]

You know, just read that prompt about Timmy quietly accepting his own death at Jason's command...

I kinda want the opposite.

I want a furious, yelling, fighting Tim, with a major broken pedestal as far as Jason is concerned.

Okay, he can get why Jason blames him, for taking the Robin suit. And maybe Bruce deserves a bit of it too.

But what he absolutely can't and won't forgive is Jason going after Dick. Especially since Dick forgives it so readily, since Dick is the one pleading for forgiveness.

Tim was there. He saw what Jason's death did to all of them. And he can't believe Jason would ever doubt Dick, that Jason would turn up to hurt him worse.

Tim being like... "You know, all the time I was trying to keep them from killing themselves, I kept telling myself, telling them, that you wouldn't want them to hurt like that. But you wanted it, didn't you? Want it. You never wanted them to heal. You never wanted them to move on. Maybe, if you had come back then, come back when B was trying to get himself killed, when Dick was catatonic curled up on your grave and trying to starve himself to death, maybe you'd have been happy at last? Or would you have decided that isn't enough either? Not enough punishment for not making you his absolute top priority for once, just once, in his life?"

And Tim going "I hate you. But I'll pretend to love you, because everyone knows Dick will choose you anytime. And I daren't leave him at your mercy."

I want post-Red Hood Jason working to earn Tim's forgiveness and trust again.

Oh yes, that’s also an interesting take! And one that (I think) comes closer to how he would react in canon. Tim is a spitfire and we love him for it 💚

And while I definitely want to explore this version of him eventually, I think it wouldn’t tie into how the Owl Song verse is set up.

Although if Owl Song does get its continuation, I think there would be some struggling on Tim’s part. Not for himself (never for himself) but for Dick and Bruce. A struggle to make Jason understand that nobody ever wanted to replace him.

In this universe, Tim wouldn’t be able to scrounge up the anger that would result in him hating Jason. Jason did too much for him to do that. He brought Tim into the family fold. Without Jason, Dick would have never accepted him. Jason, though it wasn’t his intention and he genuinely loved Tim, built the stepping stone that resulted in Tim becoming Robin.

Because any other kid trying to be Robin after Jason? Dick wouldn’t have stopped his mad pursuit for anything. Tim having “hatchling” status (ie family) is literally what saved him.

If you look deeper than surface level, the Owl Song verse is pretty twisted in its own way. And Dick could very quickly become a real monster if nobody keeps him grounded at least somewhat. With Jason gone and Bruce being someone Dick now borderline despises— yeah, it’s very lucky that Jason met Tim in school and went “must protect” and had Dick pick up on that. 🦉

#sorry I’m not very coherent rn I think my brain is sorta fried oops #owl song #very dark in its own way #altho we mostly see the happy parts #but the codependency between Jason and Dick is potentially terrifying #the depths of which Bruce is only now starting to grasp for real #talon dick grayson #Jason todd #Tim drake

[loneliestluvr]

𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊𝒊𝒊.

i. ii. iii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warnings: beron😒, abuse in general(like triggering af please be warned), me being a rhysand hater, brief suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 4.1k— this took me all day to write(from 7-9 am and then 3-now please be thankful😞🙏🏼)

taryn thinks: YES I DID CHANGE THE NAME. IT FITS BETTER. I HAD NO IDEA WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS WHEN I STARTED. HUSH. i would like to choose this very moment to tell you there will be a happy ending and to say they WILL end up with babies. still unsure how many parts this will be though 💃🏼 im just a gorl. @readychilledwine this is my payment for that tamlin baby and domestic fluff(smut if you’d like) bonus chapter for lost bonds 🤗

There was glass shattered on the floor by the windows.

Eris’s head was down as he stood before his father, pieces of deep auburn hair hanging by his eyes as he tried not to move and tried not to let any emotion pass over his face. Just as Beron expected when he took his lashings— whether that be from a whip, his tongue, or his powers.

However indignant, the fact his father had chosen his tongue today was a mercy.

“You are insignificant,” Beron seethed, spit spraying from his mouth as he yelled. The deep, cruel, voice booming off the walls of his fathers study. “—a bastard, truly. A bastard because you surely can not be this stupid and be born of me. A worthless excuse for a first son.”

Eris kept his stature wane, making himself small for his father despite the fact he was a few good inches taller than the male.

Sometimes, he thought the High Lord’s need to belittle and denigrate everyone around him, raise his voice and grow violent, was driven by some sort of lust. For power, respect, whatever it may be. Something he lacked.

That maybe the fact he put energy into minimizing his court, his family, his wife even, was because he didn’t even respect himself. That he needed to create room for his anger and hatred by pushing others down.

What had happened to him that made him so cruel? Is this how his father had been to him? Was this love to him?

“How is it that we’ve only just learned there’s a fourth sister, Eris? Tell me,” Beron’s voice grew lethally quiet as he spoke and Eris forced himself to breathe, bracing mentally. “—tell me so I know who better to put on the throne instead of your pathetic fucking excuse of life.”

His words grated against his ears, voice tight and angry and again growing louder as he spoke.

Another glass was thrown, and shattered. Hitting the wall so close to Eris’s head that a piece flew at him, slicing across his cheek lightly. He barely moved.

The crystal thin enough, knife-like enough, that he felt the warmth of his blood start to slowly seep from his skin.

Like moisture collecting on the petal of a white poppy in the early morning dew when he sat in the meadows by the Forest House, Saydee’s head in his lap as he talked to the earth. A small reprieve from the chaos of the palace.

Eris was there, in his mind.

Petting his hounds grey coat as he whispered, just as he always did when the sun came over the horizon and woke for the day. Like he had since he was just a faeling sitting in his mothers lap as she did the same.

His mother had explained it so gently one morning, sat in the grass, about when the sun comes over the skyline to say good morning. Not to speak too loudly or too brash so that he didn’t startle the earth, because she too deserved kindness. The Mother.

So almost everyday for as long as he could remember, he sat in that meadow, lazing in the tall grasses as those vibrant hues of blue and orange and pink and yellow streaked across the sky— and he whispered to Her.

About his hopes and dreams that would never be fulfilled or sought after, talked of the life he wished to have. That he wished his own mother had. Asked for her days to be gentler, kinder, prayed on every wild dandelion he found, for someone to share his days with, to talk to— however boring.

And he had. He had his dogs, and he had the fields surrounded with the creeks that ran through their property, and he had the sky.

He wished he was there most of the time. So he created a place in his head, to escape in moments like this.

Acres of meadows, full of flowers and taller grass than he could dream of. Up to his hips, his bloodhounds disappearing beneath the blades as he strolled leisurely. Hands wading through the soft thicket. Sometimes he dreamed of others with him, his mother, Lucien, someone else.

Locked away that piece of himself to disappear into whenever being in his body became too much.

It’s where he had spent nearly fifty torturous years Under the Mountain, spending every waking moment protecting the female who had raised him for his father didn’t care to. Spending fifty years away from those grasslands and that beautiful savoy grandeur. His meadows.

Throwing stick after stick out into those pastures as he walked further and further, his best girl running every time he threw— chasing bunnies and jumping into the streams. Getting lost in his mind. When he knew it was morning, which was so very rare down in that dark and decrepit nightmare, he prayed. He prayed for some divine force to step in, for Her to save him and his family. To be kinder. The first time he cried and spoke his despair aloud, Feyre Archeron had come three days later.

Eris was deep in fern grasses as the blood dripped down his face, but he still did not move.

He hadn’t even taken his coat and finery off from Hewn City yet, having told his father he was coming from the lookout on the northern border. He didn’t bring attention to it.

He heard his fathers deep breath and the creaking of the chair behind his desk as he sat, maybe seeing reason now that the heady scent of his sons blood filled his study.

“You will go to Rhysand as soon as possible,” Beron started, pinching the bridge of his nose. Eris still didn’t look up, just blinked at the floor. “—do what you must. Find a way in, figure out what else those wretched girls took from us. I do not care if you kill or maim or whatever else takes your interest these days.”

His voice trailed off as if remembering something significant and Eris heard the wood groan again and then footsteps, his heart remaining steady despite the screaming that filled his head. Then he saw the polished toes of Beron’s shoes.

“You always were the smartest of my sons. So much like me, so brutal.”

Male pride laced those words. Eris wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, and he did want to kill. He wanted to kill the man before him, wanted to kill the ruination that circled this court. That ripped its beauty from her chest, chewed it up, and spat it out.

But he did not move.

A hand gripped his chin, turning his face to the side and up. Eris let his eyes flick to his fathers face and saw the warning there.

“Where did you get this.” It wasn’t a question, Eris knew.

“I was playing with Saydee and tripped too close to a jagged rock, it cut me. It didn’t hurt.”

Beron released his chin if only to land a sharp slap on his other cheek and then immediately grabbed his face again. His grip burned, like molten ire, making the flesh of his cheeks dig into his teeth.

“Where did you get it.”

“I was practicing my swordsmanship with Brenton and he sliced me with his rapier, it was an accident. He got the proper punishment for hurting me.”

Beron released his son’s face and stepped back.

“Get out, don’t let your mother see you.”

Doubtless that the reason he wanted him gone was because he didn’t want his sons blood to drip onto those precious carpets.

Eris didn’t need to be told twice, so he walked. As calmly as he could until he got to his rooms, making sure to take the long way around and avoid where his mother was no doubt waiting by her own door to hear Eris’s footsteps walk by.

To know he was safe, or to know what his father did. Either way, he didn’t want her to see him like this.

Closing the door behind him, he finally loosed a breath, opening his eyes as he shucked off his jacket and draped it over the chaise by the hearth. Walking to his tray of decanters, lightly touching the blood on his face with one hand as he picked a bottle up in the other.

His scarred fingers came back crimson.

A slow boiling rage, like simmering sugar, filled his body. His muscles, gritting his teeth silently. Grip growing tight as he looked at that blood.

And then that was all he saw as the glass bottle shattered into the brick fireplace, sending the flames roaring and him stumbling back a few steps into the post of his bed.

He hadn’t noticed it was lit, vision glazed over.

He was breathing heavily, eyes wide as he watched the flames fulminate, casting an orange glow on his room and his face. So bright and wild he felt the heat from feet away as he watched the fire roar and gutter back down.

Eris thought that maybe he really wasn’t any better than the man that sired him at all.

Spring in Velaris was beautiful.

The mid-day sun warmed the air around the River House, a gentle breeze kissing Blair’s skin and ruffling through her curled hair.

She’d let her little sister braid it back this morning, a thin coronet that made a beautiful pleated flower on the back of her head. Though her loose bangs tickled her eyes, Blair thought she had looked rather pretty.

She wasn’t so outside of her body when she sat in the open air. And she felt… alright.

Though she would have preferred a fir to scale, as they allowed for easier climbing, but the willow she had found herself in made for a good view of Elain working in Feyre’s garden.

It was a welcome change from her window. Like there was no need to run away and hide in the forests of her mind, digging her own hands into the soul of the earth just to make sure her mind didn’t numb away.

She was almost laying down against the bark, the large trunk and spindling branches wide enough two people could have sat up here side by side. As uncomfortable as it may have been, the rough corking crust digging into wherever it touched through her pale yellow gown, it felt like home.

It’d been a week since Starfall at the House of Wind, almost a month since that all too brief introduction she had made to the world in Hewn City on Winter Solstice. Of Prythian’s world, at least.

Blair hadn’t expected anything for it, she had been there for a short half hour and had been… occupied the whole time.

Sometimes her skin still burned when she was alone. In the bath, when she stirred honey into her tea, late at night in the too cool sheets of her bed.

She’d felt her own since Hewn City, able to think and manage conversations, elating to Feyre and Elain and she quite enjoyed conversing with her little sisters now. But she still laid by the fire, night after night just to feel that warmth fill her.

But after that, after the surplus of gifts from their small gathering that followed, presents hadn’t stopped when the Solstice holiday ended— but they weren’t coming from her family.

Baskets and boards and chests and boxes were sent to Rhysand’s palace and then were brought to the House. Welcoming’s and courtiers from every place in Prythian it seemed, branching out to welcome her.

Well wishes, mostly. Some off-notes and letters, claiming that Blair Archeron’s beauty could be used to fix the rifts in this continent and between courts. That had been the most absurd one, a letter for Rhysand asking for her hand in marriage. He laughed as he read it to her, sitting by the window— knees tucked into her chest.

It angered her more than anything. That she was already a prize to be had, or that it was Rhys they were asking.

Slowly, as days passed and she spent more time outside breathing clear air, the anger grew. The realizations came in waves, of things she had missed, times where she should have spoke up and didn’t.

Resentment, frustration, shame, guilt.

She didn’t let it show, bottling it up and shoving it down. Killing the urges inside her to scream at everyone, to bellow and seeth and grow violent. Something so awake in her, gnashing and bloody teethed. The need to give into that voice in her head that told her to let it go.

That she needed to in order to go on, in order to have a sense of normalcy. That exploding was the only was to settle her bones. She felt particularly nasty towards Rhysand.

The betterment he had to achieve and grovel over, should grovel over, was stacked against the High Lord.

The anger was what took her the most, forcing her fingers to loosen the grip she had on her fork at dinner nightly as she listened to him ramble and laugh. Watched Feyre go on like she would not die having his child, closer and closer to being due.

She wanted to watch him bleed as her sister was going to.

Wanted to scream for all he had made Nesta do.

The entitlement.

But Blair buried it.

So she would glare to herself when he wasn’t looking, lip pulled back slightly and passed off as a twitch, before she took in what was sent as an attempt to woo her.

Blair had thought they were for Feyre in all honesty, before Cassian explained that it was bad luck. A few days ago when he walked with her along the Sidra— Elain had dragged her out and in return she made the Illyrian come with her— he had said it was a grim omen and wish of terrible luck to send an expecting mother gifts for a babe that hadn’t yet been born. To the fae at least.

She listened mindlessly. Noting the scent of her older sister that came from him in waves. She needed to talk to Nesta, and soon. A conversation was owed on both ends.

The thin parchment of the book she was reading scraped against the soft pads of Blair’s fingers as she leaned back against the large trunk of the willow.

Vines of cream wisteria flowing in the soft wind that sent the caps of her bell sleeves fluttering, watching Elain out of the corner of her eye as she dug her bare hands into the soil. Choosing not to use the enchanted gloves Lucien had gifted to her as she tended to the flower beds at the back of the house.

Despite the cool air surrounding Blair from the river flowing a few paces away, a warmth bloomed past her skin, not from the sun, but from something else, and her chest melted or sparked or roared as she saw a flash of deep auburn hair— walking towards where she was in the tree.

The second oldest Archeron’s brow furrowed so slightly. That scent— that heated mahogany and citrus, burning embers, floated to her on a soft wind and brushed through her hair in a soothing caress.

Eris’s hand skimmed along the brush of a white rose hedge as he strolled, his gait loose but strong. Blair kept her focus on the pages she was reading, but a sudden pounding in her heart had her unable to focus on any of the words.

She heard him approach, feet light and careless, she wouldn’t have heard it if she were still human. But with her new ears, the new senses she was still getting used to, she could.

The feet stopped, just under her, and Blair flipped the page. The thin and gauzy skirt of her dress draped and hung down the branch she lounged on, leg crossed over the other.

Eris cleared his throat then, and Blair could see his tall stature blurred in the peripheral of her vision. Hands tucked appropriately behind his back.

“I’m shocked Rhys let you come here, especially with my baby sister in her condition.” Blair said without lifting her head to look at him. Eris hid his smile by lowering his head. “Or should I be worried you’ve come to steal Nesta away? She’s not here, by the way.”

The words poured out of her mouth so quickly that Elain lifted her head in wonder, the same furrow as her older sister’s she’d seen play out in her face so many times. Rhys was standing with his arms crossed on the stone walkway when Elain looked to the back doors. Not pleased, but something willing.

“Now, smart, beautiful thing.” He tsked his tongue, amusement lacing every word. “I wanted to see you, and I told you that Nesta was not what I wanted anymore.”

Blair lifted her head at that, looking down at his wretchedly beautiful face and he smiled that wicked smile at her that spoke of pure sin. The level of her belief was in her eyes.

Whatever he offered that was big enough for Rhys to allow him to come to Velaris, she didn’t believe it would be just for her. Eris had given something to gain something— that’s what they all said of him.

“I told him I’d spoil our fun and tell my father of our plans or he could let me see you and I’d send a legion tomorrow for him to direct.” Eris added, as if reading her mind or face or body. She forced herself to keep looking at him.

“I could have met with you somewhere else.”

“Would you have? Left this place?” A raise of his brows.

Blair didn’t know, she didn’t know why she said it. Why her tongue just moved before she could think with him. Her eyes said as much and then a sudden, unknown, panic filled her and the life guttered so quickly from her eyes.

“It is safer here anyway.” Eris said lightly a few seconds later, followed by a quiet sigh.

There was a thin white gash along his cheek, almost healed, but it wasn’t there the last time she’d seen him. Blair remembered every inch of his face whether she wanted to or not. A face that followed her.

“No gift to try and sweep me into a marriage with you?” She said as gently as she could, face a bit flat.

“I thought I gave you one.” Eris smiled and at Blair’s squinted eyes, he continued. She closed her book and tossed it to the ground, narrowly missing him as it thudded to the ground. “Our dances, I did give you three I believe. Is that not the correct number in the mortal realm when a male is courting a female?”

The female blinked down at him, pausing as she swung her legs over the side of the branch, face drawing ever tighter and then she couldn’t control it.

It was the wording that sent her laughing she supposed. The sound rich and full of life, not empty and deserted or even strained, a song that skittered over Eris’s skin. Soft and silky as a fawn’s coat, gentle and easy as a gliding dove.

“I suppose,” Blair started, grunting slightly as she slid on her stomach— using the little strength she had in her arms to hold tight to the trunk she was dangling from. “—if we were in the mortal realm.” Blair panted slightly and Eris’s mouth formed a tight line as he watched the female struggling to climb back to the ground.

Her palms quickly formed indents from the grooves and bumps and ridges she clung to, nails digging into the wood.

“But,” Slipping slowly, trying to find a place for her dangling bare feet to land or stick to so she didn’t drop seven or eight feet right to the grass. The thin sleeves of her dress catching and snagging on sharp ribs in the bark. “—I so graciously have the rest of my immortal life ahead of me,”

“Would you…” Eris’s hands trail off as he watched, hands behind his back and head tilted.

“I have choices, to make—” Blair interrupted, toes splaying as she reached and reached for the next thing down but there was just nothing. “So I think it fair I take,” She huffed, hands slipping and sweating as she tried to grapple. “My,”

Eris raised an amused brow to her backside, arms crossing over his chest as he just watched. Her full body dangling there and then Blair yelped, right hand slipping and then she was falling with a gasp.

Eris was there a second later, large hands firmly gripping her waist as her knees bent over something. Scratching up her hands as she went, skin ripping on the rough bark and she grappled for anything. Body twisting.

It was Eris who caught her, who she tangled herself onto so she wouldn’t slam against the ground. Panting, heart beating, arms around his neck before she looked at him.

Blue, rust-flecked eyes met amber ones.

“Time.” She whispered, staring at his face. He’d caught her. She couldn’t tell if it was her pulse she could feel inside her hand, or his, as it held to the junction between his neck and shoulder. His eyes flicked down.

“Yellow was a choice, my dear Blair.” She scrambled from his arms, dropping another foot before touching the ground as she stood on her own again.

“I like yellow.” She spoke quietly, brushing her hands along her dress and halting when it streaked the fabric with a dirty red. Looking up at him with a breath, she crossed her arms instead.

“Beautiful as a rare star, then.”

Blair rolled her eyes.

“What is it you want, Eris?”

The male nearly fell to his knees at the look in her eyes, the sound of his name on her tongue for the first time.

Out loud, that is. He’d rewatched her beautiful lips play with it in his head for the past month, over and over. Kept it for himself, for when he was alone or bored or…

Eris feigned a pout.

“No polite courtier? I just saved you, my fair damsel.” He said, face serious until he smiled again and Blair started walking back towards the house. Rhys mouth twisted into a satisfied smirk as he watched.

“I do not need saving, the worst that would have happened was a few scratches or a bruise. I would have lived.” Even if she didn’t particularly care to. She didn’t say that out loud, though. But the despair seeped into something, she didn’t care enough to stop and think about the feeling.

“Mm,” He hummed, following behind her. “I suppose so.” He wanted to grab her, to touch and feel her beneath the flesh of his hands just because. Something inside his chest dragging him along behind her, he was not himself.

Blair just kept walking, right up the stones and the marble stairs off the back of the house, feet padding to the doors. Eris stopped at the steps where Rhys made him halt.

“Don’t let them hold you.” Eris called and she looked over her shoulder just briefly before flinging the doors open and disappearing inside the house that was warded off. Eris couldn’t follow after her if he wanted to.

“You saw her. For whatever reason you needed, she clearly did not have an interest in the same.” Rhys sighed, stepping in front of Elain subconsciously as Eris stood there— still looking into the House. “Now leave my city before I kill you, you know not to speak of this place to anyone.”

Eris was still staring after her when he disappeared in a rush of wind and warm light.

Elain looked back at the tree where her sister and the male had come through moments ago, only to find a particular trail of higher grass where Blair had walked and suddenly grown dandelions were blooming.

From the slam of the back door seconds later and the vacant yard that Elain was now left alone in, nobody else had noticed.

🏷️: @prythianpages @readychilledwine @impossibelle @anuttellaa @aelincaddel @umgatochamadopercyval @mirandasidefics

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x oc #eris vandaddy #pro eris vanserra #blair archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #rhysand #cassian #Azriel #azriel shadowsinger #lord of bloodshed #autumn court #night court #Prythian #a court of silver flames #acosf

[sunnystrollblog]

IM BACK WITH EVEN MORE IDEAS! Wholesome edition because they deserve nice things

Despite refusing to wear the bracelets, the Borrowers are very happy to participate in Hug Time. It's one of the things they all missed when living in Bergen Town. Caretakers routinely get dog piled by their broods

They really like games like hide and seek and capture the flag. They claim it's for training. Everyone else is just glad that they're having fun.

Smidge gets adopted by the defenders

Poppy makes a whole scrapbook of the best and worst gifts to give a borrower. This scrapbook is affectionately refered to as "The Sacred Texts"

They don't like big loud parties despite this they still stand guard against any predators attracted by the noise.

Aaaaa this is so real!!!

I’d also like to add on to this wholesomeness!

Many broods have a big fear of critters so Milton moss lets the defenders bring them to come see his critter care center to get use to them and even let them hold some!

Smidge definitely gets adopted by the defenders and loves that she has a friend group who can keep up with her workout routine!

Creek and kismet finally get to meet each other which makes branch and poppy go into friend matching mode where they try to set up friend dates for them!

Trickee has a soft spot for broods which also extends to non borrower trollings and boy do kids exploit it

Sky Toronto asks for the help of scavengers and rescuers a lot, for some reason they’re both very good at finding and retrieving rare party items they’re very fast at it too.

Borrowers are known to sleep in packs so it’s not uncommon for other trolls to find branch and kismet snuggled underneath a shaded tree dozing off.

Sometimes poppy will remind defenders that they’re not living in the compound anymore and can join in the parties the offer is usually declined but poppy will still save some cupcakes for them.

AAAHhh I love this au so much!!! Gonna go draw some of these ideas now!!!

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls fandom #trolls branch #dreamwork trolls #trolls au #branch trolls #borrowers au #trolls band together #trolls sky toronto #trolls smidge #trolls milton #trolls kismet

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

04/29/24 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Samba Schutte; Wendy & The Mocats; FibreArtsBrigade; Gentlebeard Wedding Week; Fan Spotlight; Cast Cards; OFMD Colouring Pages; Our Flag Means Fanfiction Minisode; Never Left Podcast; Schadenfreude; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

= Cast & Crew Sightings =

= Samba Schutte =

Samba doing more voice overs! Is there anything this man CANT do?

Img Src: Samba's IG

= Wendy Andresen & The Mocats =

I can't help but adore how much we're getting to see the kittens Wendy (a member of our Red Flag Crew) and the Museum of Transport and Technology in Auckland AoNZ have taken in. I'm a sucker for cat content. I figure we could all use more kittens on our timelines.

Need more kitten content? Visit Wendy's Twitter

== Fibre Arts Brigade ==

Reminders from the Fibre Arts Brigade that donations are still being taken for the charity auction on June 14th! Link to the Donation Form

== Gentlebeard Wedding Week ==

Just a reminder all! with MerMay Fast approaching we also have Gentlebeard Wedding Week May 6-12 being run by the lovely @roughwinds! If you haven't seen the prompts already they're listed below! To keep up to date with the week please follow @gbweddingweek on tumblr!

== Watch Parties ==

= Palm Royale =

Palm Royale WP May 2 via @LCWebsXOXO with the lovely @/dominicburgess approx. 4pm EDT/9pm BST/1pm PST!

= Wrecked Season 1 =

Another week of Wrecked Season 1 is on the docket! Don't have access? Reach out to me on @gentlebeardsbarngrill on tumblr, or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.

Days: Apr 29 - May 3

Times: 3:30 pm PT / 6:30 pm ET / 11:30 pm BST

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Thank you @melvisik! "Tonight is another director/the Spanish Captain who was canon blasted for trying to hang Stede."

Img Src: @melvisik's Twitter

= OFMD Colouring Pages =

@patchworkpiratebear has made a new colouring page for today! Check it out below!

= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =

A new minisode of Our Flag Means Fanfiction is out! This time featuring: Ready for Anything by Unapposablethumbs Minisode! Spotify link Visit @OurFlagMeansFanfiction on Instagram for more episodes!

= Never Left Podcast =

A new Episode of Never Left is out! This time the discussion is on all the different ways the characters refer to Ed! Find your favourite listening route/follow their socials here on their linktr.ee!

Art by @AmysBirdHouse on instagram

== Schadenfreude==

Thank you to @MrButtons284266 on Twitter for bringing this to our attention this morning!

Oh look 7.73% down today. Hm.

== Love Notes ==

Lovelies! Do you know what today is?

TODAY, is a new flipping day! Today has so many possibilities! Today has so many new things that can happen! Outside there is new wind blowing through, and newly formed clouds, and new light energy from the sun! The flowers are blooming in various parts of the world-- and leaves are falling in orders! Today is a new day we've never experienced before!

Even if things seem like they are stuck in a cycle, look outside, feel the air on your face, it's all new. There are so many opportunities for things to go so many different directions. I hope they go in a positive one for you today... you deserve a break, and a smile, and a chance to laugh and to love and enjoy life for a little while.

Remember to take a deep breath, drink some water, and keep on keeping on. Love you crew <3 Hope your Taika Tuesday is a wonderful one.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Today's theme is just seeing these two gorgeous greying buggers happy. I need it, I figured everyone else did too. Gifs Courtesy of @ofmd-ann today!

#daily ofmd recaps #daily ofmd recap #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #rhys darby #taika waititi #ofmd #our flag means death #save ofmd #long live ofmd #adopt our crew #our flag means fanfiction #podcasts #never left podcast #wendy andresen #samba schutte #gentlebeards wedding week

[athforskz]

What would SKZ be as an overprotective baby brother to his older sister - will he show her off but ban his members from interacting with her, will the fact that she is older than all of them be the reason he 'hides' her from his members, will he just be happy that she's happy?

I like this concept so I turned it into a little drabble!

Thank you for your request! Hopefully I did it justice and you enjoy 💕

Dearest Little Brother - OT8! SKZ

Masterlist

Warnings: None

Chan He is very proud that you are his older sister so of course he’d show you off to his members, but he’s very protective over you. If one of his members ever showed interest in you romantically he would nip it in the bud. There’s no way he would allow any of the boys to pursue you. Chan thinks you deserve the absolute best and if he has to hand pick them himself then so be it.

Minho Doesn’t tell the others at first that he has an older sister. In some ways he’s a little envious of you because whenever you step into a room all attention is on you. It’s no different when the other boys eventually find out about you. Of course they’re absolutely enthralled with your presence, but your little brother, Minho is sulking in the corner. You’re his sister, not theirs. If he had it his way you would be home and under the radar.

Changbin Absolutely over the moon to show off his older sister to the members. You and Binnie had a great sibling relationship growing up and he would love nothing more than to share such an amazing person in his life with his group. You can’t come around much, but when you do, Changbin is the first one in line to parade you around.

Hyunjin Although he loved you as his big sister, he didn’t want the other boys chasing after you. He was extra cautious when you came around for practice or to the dorms, side-eyeing any of the boys that even dared to talk to you. He’d even go as far as stepping in between you and Chan when he came to you for a hug. Everyone knows Chan is a hugger and means nothing romantic by it, but Hyunjin was taking no chances.

Han Doesn’t mind that his members are actually pretty fond of you. You’re his older sister, who wouldn’t be? But Han is honestly a bit clueless of some of their advances towards you sometimes. The other boys don’t mean it seriously, it’s more of a tease, but it doesn’t work when Han pretty much has a question mark above his head whenever you tell him that Minho was blatantly flirting with you.

Felix Lowkey tries to set you up with one of his hyungs. He thinks one of them Changbin would be perfect for you. However, you aren’t all that interested in any of the boys. You see all of them as an extension of your little brother, Felix, and much prefer to keep it that way. That doesn’t necessarily stop them from trying though.

Seungmin Yes, he’s your younger brother and he loves you, but couldn’t care less about your relationship with the members. You are your own person and he totally respects that. Plus he knows his boys wouldn’t do anything to wrong or hurt you. You’re all practically family.

Jeongin The biggest overprotective little brother there is. He would introduce you to the other members but make it crystal clear that they are not to contact you without letting him know first. You and I.N come from a conservative family and he knows the boys can get a little cantankerous.

Taglist: @doitforbangchan / @jehhskz

#stray kids #request #requests open #skz #bang chan #changbin #hyunjin #seungmin #yang jeongin #han jisung #lee felix #lee know #minho #little brother stray kids

[lil-guys-brainrot]

HELLO I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABT UR NINJAGO OPINIONS PLS

seriously tho I love this show so much and I'm always looking for excuses to talk to people about it so... thoughts on where things might go after S2Pt2? I'm starting to believe the evil Arin theories, but I feel like our boy deserves more nuance than that...

I'll gladly indulge! you can always bother me with ninjago thoughts in either my inbox or dms :3

I don't personally think the evil arin theories will come to fruition, but I do think this will blow up in the team's face if they can't properly address arin's self-worth issues soon (they won't). especially since it was confirmed that he doesn't have any elemental power. everything is so tense on the team after kai getting yoinked into the nether space, and it's only gonna get worse when they see a lightning EM in the s2pt2 tournament. and when arin finds out that sora helped him with his object spinjitsu, ohhhhh he's not gonna be happy. I can maybe see him leaving the team for an episode or two, but I don't think he'll go awol. the show is definitely trying to insinuate that though huh :')

lloyd and sora just need to stop coddling him for a second. they're forcing optimism on him when what he needs is a heart to heart about his actual capabilites. the boy is very capable, but he needs to be able to say "I can't do it" and actually have someone respect that and say "okay, here's an alternative instead."

but that's s2pt2 commentary. you asked what I think will happen in s3 and beyond

I honestly think they're gonna focus more on jay in s3. I think we'll see him a fair bit more throughout s2pt2, but I don't think the main cast is gonna realize it's him until towards the very end. and I honestly can see the season ending with the team realizing jay's alive, and the production crew won't actually try to "deal with" his arc until s3. and as much as I love jay, I hope they draw out his arc and make everyone suffer :) I do really want him to get his memories back in the end tho

I also wonder if we'll get a glimpse at next season's protagonists? similar to how ras was carried over from last season into this one, could the forbidden five somehow carry over into s3? idk. I'm just thinking out loud. I don't really believe that'll happen. tho I think it would be strange to give them so much lore without giving them more significance and screentime

anyhow, that's all I have for now. I'd be interested in hearing some of your other thoughts for what the future seasons hold.

#sorry I waited a bit to respond. I'm bad at time management;; #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago #dragons rising #answered

[welcome-to-green-hills]

I don’t really know how to say that without sounding like I’m being salty but I know that you’re going to get what I’m saying here. Everyone being mean to one another about the miniseries and calling each other out and here you are trying to be a little ray of sunshine for everyone. So thank you for being a safe place

Hi Honey❤️✨

I understand what you’re trying to say. I do. And know that I appreciate the compliment. Please understand that I’m NOT going to think any less of you if you like or didn’t like the miniseries. You’re a human being and still a Sonic at the end of the day. You deserve to be treated like an equal with me. It’s perfectly okay to have a preference. I promise. And it’s perfectly okay to like bits a pieces of the show only.

There are some things that I didn’t like for the series, like that bit where Wade mispronounces Pachacamac’s name. For those of you who don’t know, my archaeological work is very heavily NAGPRA-based; I work with Indigenous tribes in repatriating history. I hear jokes like that a lot in my line of work because some people may think that they’re being “adorable” for mispronouncing a name. It’s not, it’s pretty mean. I really didn’t like that joke.

Point being, I love it when you share your thoughts with me. I try to make it a safe and calming space here so that you can share your feelings. No one deserves to be treated like they’re less than dirt for having a preference. If you’ve only liked the first episode, then that’s great! I’m happy for you! If you didn’t like the miniseries, that’s perfectly okay. I’m happy that you’ve tried it and moved onto something else.

At the end of the day, we’re all human beings. It’s important to take a step back and remember that kindness and compassion are key when engaging with people online. Let’s make sure that we’re doing our part in being clear and respectful to one another.

#knuckles series #knuckles show #Mystery anon #off topic

[joanyio]

one thing i don’t like about lovely runner so far is how hyunju’s character is being treated. she deserves so much better than ending up with geum as her husband whos a stupid annoying fuck making bad financial decisions to the point she screamed about getting divorced — only for her to go on a tangent of how she wouldn’t change a thing about her fate even if she had the chance to because of her kids. it feels so preaching for the sake of stereotypical family values, at the expense of her own individual agency. what about the strong independent successful career woman we saw in episode 1 who can even afford to change cars to support her disabled bestfriend’s fangirling. this whole narrative just leaves a bad taste in my mouth, normally i don’t care for side characters because they usually serve as unnecessary fillers in romcom but the main story is written so well that this show makes me care for everyone.

edit: maybe im just projecting, because i won’t lie that what she said makes sense given the fact that in the present she has to live by the decisions she had made so far in her life, that she has to deal with her current situation and in her reality there’s no going back to the past. regretting and wishing to change the past when you know you can’t just won’t do any good for her mindset. and i guess the purpose of the dialogue was to foreshadow that maybe in the end no matter how sol tries to change her and sunjae’s fate, there are consequences to the happiness she’s chasing for. but still, i don’t believe a second that when given the chance hyunju wouldn’t choose a “better” present just because of the future’s uncertainty. sigh, since sol has one chance left i do have some wishful thoughts about hyunju’s story although i see the possibility being extremely slim. also i was curious so i looked through kfans’ posts about this (because i cant find any think piece about hyunju from ifans, everyone’s just raving about soljae lmao understandable), and they all seem to hate geum and rooting for career woman hyunju too — as expected. (some are shipping her with inhyuk and i kinda dig that potential meal? but then again chance:slim). i guess one post i saw was suggesting hyunju not to marry geum right away after graduating so she can get a job first and secure a more financially stable life, that she should not be a full time housewife and let dumb geum be the sole breadwinner of the family??? well, anyway, that’s it for today’s rant! open for other thoughts on this, if there are even hyunju-geum pairing supporters out there...

#lovely runner #kdrama #rant