#i had this idea back in january oops

[teruel-a-witch]

the show never gave us a high school reunion episode which is a staple of procedurals/crime dramas so I came up with one, that's why the dialogue is in script format(ish)

the body of danny's high school guidance councillor is discovered on the school grounds, all ties lead to a huge pool of potential suspects including former students and teachers and maybe even a janitor with mob ties. too many suspects with skeletons in their closets are likely to lie to the police and the case could easily go unsolved.

luckily, danny's 20 year reunion is coming up, so he is asked by the local pd to go undercover and secretly question his classmates because they are more likely to spill the secrets if they don't know they are being investigated, as people love to gossip at this kind of events.

danny initially didn't want to go to the reunion which bummed steve out because he was hoping to tag along and get some of the high school experience he had missed out on, and maybe find out some more about danny's life before they met.

steve: i don't get why you hate the idea so much.

danny: i know my wicked good looks and charming personality may lead you to believe i was popular in high school, but that was not the case. of course, you wouldn't get it, i bet you had girls fighting to the death for the pleasure of going to prom with you.

steve: *looks down* we didn't have one at the academy.

danny: right, sorry, forgot you came off the conveyor belt at the factory fully formed. most of us regular flesh and blood humans don't wish to revisit the awkward teenage years. but that's a moot point right now, i gotta help my buddie at the newark pd.

and so steve ends up tagging along. for back-up, of course.

(picture steve and danny standing in the ballroom at the reunion as danny explains to him the veritable who and who of his former classmates/suspects)

former prom queen: so where is the lovely mrs. williams?

danny: *looks at steve across the room talking to some people* he's over there. i let him keep his own name, because i'm nice like that. babe?? come over here, don't make me look like a loser who came to his high school reunion by himself.

of course, steve plays along, even tho initially danny rejected the idea of posing as a couple but he understands that being divorced already makes danny feel like a failure on his own, he doesn't want to give the former mean girls material to make fun of him some more. especially because danny has told him he had asked one of them to prom and not only did she laugh she told all of her friends and they all agreed he was punching above his weight.

truth be told steve is all too happy to escape the unwanted attention of soccer mums and some of their bi-curious husbands that were circling him like a bunch of hungry vultures. he would much rather be danny's pretend husband (if it's as close as he gets to the real thing)

everyone cooes over steve and danny, even tho danny knows most of them would not have been this progressive in the 90s, so he privately sneers at what a bunch of hypocrites they are. a part of him, however, enjoys the clear jealous looks of former beauty queens turned soccer mums and bitter divorcées, because yes, he, danny williams, can pull a gorgeous navy seal, whom all of them tried to hit on when they first came on scene, so who's punching about his weight now, brenda?

eventually, they find the information they need, as well as reveal a bunch of other unrelated secrets, and there's even an impressive suspect take-down. danny is grateful that steve helped him get through this unpleasant reunion and vows to somehow make up for one milestone steve had missed out on.

steve: ready to go home?

danny: not quite yet. the principal scheduled a do-over dance after that whole fiasco, and i wondered maybe you would like to go with me? it's not exactly prom but ...

steve: *is touched* i would be lucky to go with you.

danny: who says you are getting lucky after?

steve: *blushes* i didn't mean ...

danny: relax, who knows where the night takes us, i always wanted to make out with the quarterback under the bleachers *he winks*

steve assumed danny was joking (he wasn't) but they still spent a nice evening. they didn't have to maintain the cover anymore but neither felt like ruining the fantasy so they even slow danced to 'i'll stand by you' by the pretenders. if only had steve requested another '95 hit - bon jovi's 'always' danny would have proposed on the spot, but alas, they were still bound by restrictive tv gods.

#mcdanno #h50 headcanons #h50edit #h50 scenarios #h50 #hawaii five 0 #danny williams #steve mcgarrett #myh50 #mcdanno back to school #undercover as a couple #the fake dating trope #this is sometime s5 or 6 (2015) #i had this idea back in january oops #it started with me thinking that 3x09 scene has high school reunion vibes #gosh this took 2 hrs somehow #h50 3x09

[honeyvenommusic]

❗️NEWGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSAN-

#glass animals #honestly i wore out dreamland sm my brain took a lonnng break from expecting anything from them?? idk i’m just huh???? #like….. when i say wore out #i cannot describe how much i listened to it #i usually have some vague idea even if it’s a ridiculous number #like 52 times in a month for an album or something (has happened) #i cannot recall w this #gonna say bc 2020 & they were Literally the last band i saw live. next morning everyone found out about everything annd lockdown. no joke #so it was big dreamland time when it dropped and revisiting their past albums when i broke out of its spell lmao #(pretty sure before that like january was when i listened to déjà vu 100+ times in a row tho so oop. it was a tough day lol) #anyway seeing this aww man. i really have had this band with me for a long long time. 🥹 i remember hearing gooey on the radio one night #driving home from work late @ night in 2014. the drive was so short i couldn’t be arsed to fish out my ipod & plug it in #sometimes so just popped on a good station i had preset. started the car and heard this *voice* and i was like who???? #had to check the station bc it was an alt station and i thought i had it on another one which was fine i was just v confused #it was in the middle of the song & i was immediately anxious to know the name hoping i’d hear it & it wouldn't just flow into the next song #then the dj would pile the names together after x number of songs played bc i was tiired (but woulda stayed in the car ngl). got lucky & #ran inside to find it then yelled at my roommate the next day that she HAD to listen to it during a smoke session after work #(i was right & it blew her miiind) #god. what a fucking time. what a fucking band. idk what the disc horse is surrounding them now since they blew up via tiktok #i’m sure people are v quick to say they’re overrated bc of that but idk & i’m glad i don’t know. they’ll always be this #highly inventive incredible band i stumbled upon for the perfect night drive home after a long long shift #a band that came back from a Horrible accident that should have ended 1 of their lives & somehow didn’t & should have ended them #as a band (like still cannot believe Joe was drumming in 2020 & i saw it with my own eyes like how tf???!?) #a band deserving of all of its successes. glass animals forever

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai

✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.

✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.

✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.

I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to. 

 I won.

 I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.

 Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.

 Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing. 

 But fighting is all I know. 

 I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.

 Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter. 

 It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else. 

 Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle. 

 She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend. 

 Shit, me too. 

 However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses. 

 Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.

 Great.

 Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes. 

 I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.

 “Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”

 After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.

 “What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”

 I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”

 “Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”

 “Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask. 

 “You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”

 I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”

 She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment. 

 Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless. 

 Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him? 

 Me. But that’s besides the point.

 A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment. 

 “Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself. 

 While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.

 I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment. 

 “I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected. 

 “Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”

 She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”

 I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face. 

 She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.

 I’m getting hard.

 Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her. 

 That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.

 And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her. 

 Either way, I’ll act on it.

 Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds. 

 “You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.

 I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”

 The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”

 “Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”

 She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”

 I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”

 “That came out my mouth, Abarai?”

 “Why are you still mad at me?” 

 She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story. 

 Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”

 “Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise. 

 “Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”

 “Probably because you love me.”

 “Probably not.”

  Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty. 

 Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.  

 And she knows it. 

 I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me. 

 We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking. 

 “So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.

 She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”

 “You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”

 “Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest. 

 “If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”

 She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together. 

 How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.

 So—I take advantage of it. 

 In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.

 I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss. 

 Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me. 

 The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give. 

 “Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss. 

 “Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.

 She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.

 Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as. 

 Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.

 “You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”

 She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”

 “Shit, angel. I will.”

 Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.

 I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy. 

 I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me. 

 “Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”

 Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”

 And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight. 

 I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us. 

 This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers. 

 “Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.

 Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.

 I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back. 

 Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock.  Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.

 “Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”

 I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”

 “Please.”

 God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this. 

 In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual. 

 It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it. 

 I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy. 

 This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want. 

 My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”

 “Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”

 I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.

 I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her. 

 Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.

 “Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”

 “Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”

 “Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”

 Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily. 

 My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.

 I’m about to come. Hard.

 But I need her to come first.

 “Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts. 

 “Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”

 She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back. 

She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.

 Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even. 

 And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors. 

 My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”

 Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.

 “Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound. 

 She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me. 

 My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”

 “You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”

 Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.

tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #bleach x black reader #bleach x reader #bleach smut #fanfic smut #renji x reader #renji x black reader #renji abarai x reader #renji abarai x black reader #bleach fanfic

[alphabetboyluvr]

BAD DECISIONS - SMUT INDEX

BD MASTERLIST  | WATTPAD Ver.  | A03 Ver.

pairing: bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb

synopsis

it's simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook's ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you've a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you've both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions.

note from holly: ask and you shall receive!! i was asked about a list of all the smut chapters in bd, so figured it'd be easier for me to make a masterlist - this took hours because I had to go through the entire story (which is like 450k words LMAO), but if you notice any missing, let me know!! all chapters linked will take you to the wattpad ver.

minors dni

Bad Decision #2 – Park Jimin

tags/warnings: jimin lol, drunk hook-up, slight dom jimin, bratty oc, spanking, fingering, protected sex, fully clothed, no orgasm for oc

Bad Decision #11 - Perry

tags/warnings: first shower, no smut but a lil nakedness

Bad Decision #12 – An Agreement

tags/warnings: mutual masturbation birdie, jk gets himself off in the bathroom sink <3 oc gets herself off in his bed <3

Bad Decision #13 – Work of Art

tags/warnings: Jungkook discovers boobs <3, breast play, nipple play, mirrors, paint (?), shower, mutual masturbation (for realsies this time), he finishes on her tummy <3

Bad Decision # 14 – New Rules

tags/warnings: mirrors, pussy worship, jk has the biggest boner known to man, fingering, one, two, three fingers! Orgasm for oc!!

Bad Decision #15 – Paper Planes

tags/warnings: cockwarming (that escalated!), hand job, fingering, protected penetration (safety first!!), oc on top, mirrors (they love them!), nose nudging!!!, clitoral stimulation, ‘good girl’, both finish &lt;3

Bad Decision #17 – Jeon Jungkook

tags/warnings: cockwarming 2.0, oc is bad a maths!, touching each other up above their clothes <3, mirrors lol ofc, nipple play, spanking, tittie sucking <3, fingering, neck kisses, unprotected (!!) penetration, cockwarming that accidentally becomes fucking! Oops! Jk on top, multiple positions, finishes on her back

Bad Decision #20 – Park Jimin… Again

tags/warnings: oops (kinda wild seeing the progression from 17 to 20 like this lmao), drunk hookup, blowjob, no oc orgasm <;/3

Bad Decision #23 – Cherry Picking

tags/warnings: most read chapter! Fun facts! tipsy hook up, oral (f receiving), pantie sniffing?? lmao, panties in oc’s mouth??? Lol, tittie sucking, spitting, jks nose <3, fingering, oc orgasm!! FIRST KISS!!!! Unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, he finishes on her tits <3 and licks it up <3

Bad Decision #24 – Resolutions

tags/warnings: hangover sex, shower sex, slight degradation, use of the word slut in a sexy way, praise, temporarily withheld orgasm (f), switch dynamics, unprotected sex, orgasms (f, m), he finishes in her mouth &lt;3

Bad Decision #25 - January

tags/warnings: fingering, f orgasm, mentions of the erotic accordion lmao

Bad Decision #26 – January, Still

tags/warnings: the tie chapter <3 what he does with the aforementioned tie I shall not get into but it’s pretty self-explanatory, oral (f), fingering, lil spanks, rimming (f receiving), spitting, unprotected sex, doggy, finishes on her back!!

Bad Decision #27 – Keeping Quiet

tags/warnings: this ones a lil angsty!! ‘if you’re here to fuck me, then fuck me. If not, you can go.’, they’re fighting but theyre needy! And tipsy! Bad idea!!!! Unprotected sex, kisses ☹ many kisses ☹ she wants him to finish inside ☹ he doesn’t ☹ mmmm rereading this one made me so sad lol! Sad smut!

Dad Decision #28 – Avoidance

tags/warnings: a lil? Lap sitting?? Dry hump??? Not really smut lol

Bad Decision #29 – ‘Daddy’

tags/warnings: the first of the polaroids, slut (affectionately <3) not smut as such, they’re just sorta working each other up

Bad Decision #31 – The Photo Booth

tags/warnings: all the build up for a blowwie without there being an actual blowwie lol (payback for the daddy thing), cute little lick of dick <3 lil precum swap <3 jk outrageously horny for the rest of the day, the photobooth pictures!!!!

Bad Decision #32 – Question…?

tags/warnings: jk’s parents kitchen, freckle kissing chapter!!!! <3 <3!! He finally gets that blowjob!! Fingering, he calls her baby sooooo much ☹ interrupted!!!!!! Nearly caught! Spend the day horny AGAIN, the conversation in a chicken shop is not the kind of conversation you should have in a chicken shop, jk quite literally wants to drown in you <3 TO THE LOVE MOTEL WE GO! Very needy, very desperate, very good <3 unprotected sex! Missionary! Tittie sucking! Ankles over shoulders! He’s going to town! CREAMPIE ! WE CHEER! Brief mentions of fucking again and him finishing inside her AGAIN

Bad Decision #33 – Boundaries (Or Lack Thereof)

tags/warnings: kisses ☹ so many ☹ ‘last time’ energy ☹ ‘chess’ ☹ against their better judgement, and despite their earlier restraint…. Oops! Shagging! Tittie sucking, dry humping (so not dry), 69, ass eating (f receiving), edging, fingering, clit spanks, squirting, unprotected (v quick!) sex, creampie, happy customers all around (until the next bird falls!)

Bad Decision #37 – Faking It

tags/warnings: angsty!! They are annoyed!!! Dominant jk!!! Arguing in a janitors closet at an art gallery!! Over her ex!!! He’s sooooo mm mm mmmm 😊 lots of ‘good girl’, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, tittie sucking, he wanks himself into her underwear!! While she’s wearing them <3 ‘gonna cum in ur panties, and then ur gonna wear them all night’ <33 they have a show to return to after all!!! He’s being like… so possessive but in a sexy way!

Bad Decision #40 – Spinning Bottles

tags/warnings: sex toys!! M & F !!! solo masturbation for oc, jk hears lol (floorboards are thin!), mutual masturbation, but like way hotter than normal, he’s soooo needy!! Beggy!!! Kisses!!!! Fleshlight creampie lmao, oc cleans it up for him 😊 with her tongue!! Cum swapping <3 so kissy, so lovely <3

Bad Decision #41 – Locked Doors

tags/warnings: shower sex, he like… fucks the little gap at the top of her thighs? Lol, kissy kissy mwah mwah, jk is like… totally in love! Mmmm he compliments!! Pretty standard shagging mechanics, emotion heavy, he finishes inside <;33

Bad Decision #43 – Circles

tags/warnings: dominant oc!! The neediest, whimper-iest handjob known to man!! She calls him a little slut <3 edging!! Oral (f), fingering, his hand is a necklace! Dominant jk! Oc rides!!! Seven had just been released! Sue me!!! Hair pulling, are they fucking or fighting idk, power struggle but sexy, kisses <3 cum! Everywhere!!! Titties and mouth <3 many seven references

Bad Decision #44 – Skinny Dipping

tags/warnings: pretty standard shag tbh, there are people in the rooms closeby but jk simply doesn’t give a shit, creampie, fingers in creampies lmao, eating creampie, too!!, finger sucking, multiple orgasms

Bad Decision #45 – The Rule of Five

tags/warnings: sofa shagging in lieu of speak about feelings! Kissing but v important kissing!! A little bit of cockwarming, unprotected sex, bed sex, creampie, all the good stuff you usually get with bd <33 squirting, jk is so lovely <3

Bad Decision #47 – Time Out

tags/warnings: a lil dry hump &lt;3

Bad Decision #48 – Bickering

tags/warnings: mutual masturbation <3 sex toys (f), he fucks her with it <3 then licks it clean <3 kinda deepthroats it actually lmao, cums on her tummy <3 more polaroids <3

last updated: 20230914

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #byholly #angst #smut #jungkook x y/n #bartender!jk #jungkook fluff #bd #bad decisions #bd!jk #bts #jungkook #jjk #jeonjungkook #smut masterlist

[reasonandfaithinharmony]

2023 writing gif-making round up

Rules (adapted for fic, gifs, art, etc.): Share what you made this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you made or just the projects you're most excited about. Thank you for the tag, @thisbuildinghasfeelings!

January

Um. Coming to terms with the idea of 2023? I dunno. But certainly nothing creative happened here.

February

Boyfriend → husband (Schitt's Creek) — A side-by-side comparison of how David refers to Patrick in season 4 and season 6. (Brought to you courtesy of a lovely text post by @jesuisici33.)

David questioning Stevie's motives (Schitt’s Creek) — A fun look at David's expressive face. 😄

March and April

An existential crisis. Or two. Or five. 🙃 Managed to finish absolutely nothing.

I did come in contact with a lot of 911 Lone Star content, however. Which explains everything that follows. Oops?

May

Marry me. (911 Lone Star) — Ah, my first gif set for this show. A parallel of TK referring to Carlos as his husband when he proposes, and then during their wedding ceremony.

Wedding → honeymoon (911 Lone Star) — Holding hands right after they first kiss as husbands. (Promo footage that didn't actually make the final episode cut). And holding hands poolside on their honeymoon.

Note: From here on out, everything in this list is for Lone Star, unless otherwise specified.

June

TK and Andrea helping Carlos get ready — A parallel set highlighting similar moments from Best of Men and a deleted scene from In Sickness and in Health

We almost forgot. Your boutonnière. — In which I attempt to put a couple pieces of unaired footage back together: the deleted scene with Andrea and Carlos + promo footage of what must be the same scene

Heart tutorial — Danielle Savre and Stefania Spampinato teach Rafael Silva how to make a heart sign with his hands at the First Responders Reunion 🫶

July

🤨 (affectionate) — Listen. I love this dynamic. Had to do the parallel set.

Nothing ever stays the same, Carlos. — A look at TK and Carlos' conversation in 2x04 in parallel with Carlos' wedding vows. The first set I wanted to do for Lone Star. Took me a while to get to it because I wasn't sure how to put it together.

August

TK needs you all to RSVP — My first attempt at this type of post. Incorrect quotes? Text post memes? I don't know what to call them, really. But it was definitely fun. And then it became the thing I did most often. Lol.

And if it never changes? // What if everything changes again? — A parallel set for me and ~5 other people, putting Tarlos in 2x04 side by side with Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

September

You're a menace to society *smooch smooch smooch* — My next incorrect quotes/meme post. And my contribution to ascribing cat-like behavior to TK.

I like him a normal amount — A fandom reaction gif, essentially. Courtesy of Joey Tribbiani on Friends.

Love is stored in humans finding out we can make heart shapes with our hands — Had to revisit the heart tutorial for Rafa. This time as one of the incorrect quotes/text posts.

When you can be silly and slutty with them — Oh, I had fun with this look at TK and Carlos' relationship. 😍

Pretty sure this happened at least once — In which we learn TK was seen trying to catch a frog outside the firehouse. Obviously.

October

Carlos is lit like an angel — Commentary on that beautiful moment from 2x02 where TK falls into Carlos' arms.

I put my emotions into my cooking. // This tastes… horny? — A playful and sexy look at Carlos in the kitchen with TK, and then heading upstairs… 😏

I adore you. Why are you like this? I’m going to kiss you with such fervor… — Oh, just exploring the Tarlos relationship dynamic with a text post and a scene from 3x18.

November

Unedited Gif Game (26 entries so far) — This has been very fun. I think it was good for me to have a bunch of low-stakes gif projects where I was not in charge. Lol. I will spare you individual links to each of them. But they should all be in the tag linked here. I will probably make this an ongoing thing, as long as it's not annoying everyone.

December

Episode vs. Promo: Yee-Haw (1x02) — Let's start diving into some more unaired footage, shall we? And let's start with some alt takes on that first make-out scene.

Missing moments: then and now — From an almost-kiss in 1x02 to an alt kiss from their wedding.

You're a miracle, TK Strand. My miracle. — A rather large close-up gif of that alt wedding kiss. Why? So we can see the teardrop that beads up under Carlos' eye.

Tags below the cut…

Tagging: @rmd-writes, @reyesstrand, @strandnreyes, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @carlos-in-glasses, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @birdclowns, @welcometololaland, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @rosedavid, @heartstringsduet, @noxsoulmate, @chicgeekgirl89, @paperstorm, @tailoredshirt, @guardian-angle22, @swearphil, @carlos-tk, @three-drink-amy, @orchidscript, @danieljradcliffe, @lightningboltreader + open tag!

#tag game #2023 writing (gif-making) round up #2023 round up #mythings #mysc #my911ls #tarlos #911 lone star #schitt's creek #david x patrick

[smolvenger]

The Wedding of the King (Henry V/fem! Reader)

Summary: Henry consents to an arranged marriage to a Lady Y/N. He is enthusiastic about marrying this beautiful woman upon meeting her. But as the wedding day arrives, he learns that she, however, is not.

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: Discussions of the fear of rape, as well as masturbation and sex without any actual smut. Men are gross (but not our boy Henry- he's a king in more ways than one). Medieval era attitudes and attempts at accuracy. Some angst but a lot of fluff. I snuck in references to Hamlet and Six The Musical. A reworking of a speech from Henry IV Part II

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise

A/N: hi guys! This one-shot takes place in the same universe as my miniseries The Twelve Days. But it's not required and hopefully will make sense outside the context. I got an idea from an ask to expand it with some one-shots and to write something more from Hal/Henry's POV. I was in a rush to write the first part bc I Wanted the whole shebang done by January 6th (and then I didn't. Oops.) So I realized I didn't go into detail about the wedding. I should have, because I read a blog post about how medieval-era weddings went and I thought it was fascinating. So this one will focus a LOT on the wedding, as well as before and after. I hope y'all like it- comments and reblogs and asks and dms about my work are appreciated!

The Earl of York spoke of her like that of a Disciple proclaiming the Word.

“This family shall be most advantageous in a match! They have always sworn duty and loyalty to our court. They have served us faithfully and will make excellent allies. I say you must reward them. And there is a daughter they have- the elder one. All of us in Parliament agree that she is the best match to be your queen!” he bragged.

Henry rested his arms on the ends of the throne. It was quite a tumultuous time. In less than a month, not only had he lost a father and gained a crown, but now the court had selected a potential wife.

“What of her? Who is she? What is her name?” He asked.

“Lady Y/F/N of the House of Y/L/N,” the Duke of York reported.

The Duke of Salisbury stepped forward, adding on.

“I met her at a ball hosted by her parents. A most virtuous, good lady. Her parents assure us she is chaste, of course. We know she will obey her parents should they agree to this match. No protestations, no running away, no rebelling- so the marriage will happen smoothly without incident. And, as a man, I must confess- she is beautiful too!

The Duke of York cut back in.

“Additionally, many kings and queens of many countries are your relations. And they say that marrying too much within the family distorts the minds and even bodies of the children from their union. I say, to keep the minds and bodies of your heirs undisturbed, you look to England for your wife. And what luck that we have found Lady Y/N!”

The Chief Justice nodded and then continued.

 “You are young, but so is Lancaster’s hold on the throne. You are only the second one after your father usurped Richard. You must secure your claim by taking a wife and siring an heir to continue your line.”

Perhaps as king, he could refuse them. But there were too many practical advantages. And they were all right. He never expected as he took the throne to marry for love. No, kings married for alliances and heirs. He took in a deep breath.

“Then let it be so. Go to her parents and tell her the betrothal is done now. And then bring them here- I’d like to meet her at least once before we are married,” he ordered.

His powerful voice echoed in the throne room The lords nodded and headed through the wooden doors to begin writing some eager letters.  

Part of him would rest a little easier. He would cement his hold on the throne, indeed.

But who was she? This Y/N? He was bursting with curiosity. Even excitement. The visit was set for the next week. He couldn’t help but count down the days amidst the parliament meetings.

Finally, the day they would be introduced arrived. He greeted each servant with a smile. As he breakfasted with his brothers- The Princes John, Thomas, and Humphrey- he announced.

“You all have a sister now. But she will also be your queen and you will still respect her-she is already part of our family! I asked you all to think of me as brother and father- think of her like a sister and mother.”

They nodded their brown heads and gossiped about her and her family.

An hour before, he went to his chambers. His attendants dressed him in the dark cloak with the jeweled clasp, the one from his father. Such dark, dreary colors he had to wear on what should be a joyous day. He looked out to where a bird chirruped right outside the stained-glass window.  

“I would like some fresher air, let me walk the gardens for a minute,” he ordered.

He would meet his betrothed- not only a wife, a queen! In only an hour! He paced about the grounds, trying to urge his heart to still. How could he woo this woman? Many men won women over by saying pretty poetry that made them swoon. Others danced so well that one could see the love in the ladies’ eyes. He could do neither.

What did ladies like? He looked down to notice the flowers in the gardens. Most ladies liked flowers, so it was foolproof. Some still grew despite the October cold.  But there was a small purple wildflower that caught his eye. He bent down and picked it up. That should be her gift!  He could give her jewels. Offer lands. But that would only show him off- no. There would be time after that.  A flower would fit for his first gift. He would show humility. His honor for the union. His honor for her.

The Lord of Exeter, his uncle, hurried through and approached.

“Your grace…they’ve arrived!” he urged with a smile.

Henry walked through to the inside, his guards following with their tall spears and silver helmets. His brothers were just behind among the attendants of lords. Eager to peek at the woman about to be their sister-in-law.

He paused before the throne room. Knowing she would be there. Just between those doors was England’s queen! He took a moment to breathe in and savor the last minute of being a bachelor. The old man with a black hat and a large cane stood before, awaiting the signal.

Exhaling deeply, Henry then nodded. The old man tapped the staff on the floor. The doors opened to the throne room.

The old man announced, in a booming voice “his royal majesty, Henry the Fifth!”

The crowd in the stone throne room turned to him. Bowing heads low as he passed through them. Which one was she-which one? There among the crowd, was a woman in a decorative pink dress. Two people- her parents- gestured for her to walk forward.

It was Her.   

She bowed her head down. She looked up at him, hands folded before her, right into his eyes. Henry felt frozen where he stood.

They were right.  She was beautiful. Truly beautiful to him. He felt a shock. The punch of desire, run through his body, his spine, his stomach,  his groin. He felt pulled to her like a moon drew the current of the ocean. He took a step closer. She looked him in the eyes, but he noticed her shoulder raise up.

He knew he frightened ladies. Most shivered in his approach. Prior to being king, despite his title, the higher-born princesses he met scoffed in his face when he was introduced. They knew his exploits as Prince Hal. When he went to Eastcheap, the Lower born women bowed without speaking. And Tavern Women were the ones who loved him- because he paid them to lie with their mouths and for him to lie in their beds.

In her presence, he almost forgot to speak. Her eyes reduced him to be not a king but a silent schoolboy. Then he remembered his words, rolling out his tongue.

“Lady Y/L/N. I greet you, most fair lady.”

“Your majesty,” she voiced. She bowed again for good measure.

God’s blood, he loved the sound of her voice already. He could hear her say that all day. The wedding couldn’t be soon enough.

He reached out his hand and she accepted it. He moved it so her palm faced upwards. He put the wildflower into her hand, right on the palm. Then he moved her fingers to curl over it. Her eyes went big.

“May I kiss your hand and call you, my queen?” he asked.

She nodded. Rather than lifting her hand, he bowed his head low. Like the flower, he would offer humility to this woman. He kissed the hand that held the plant and then returned up.

That dinner, she was placed to sit next to him. Her parents across. Forks clicked on plates on the wooden table. Her elder brother leaned towards him.

“Your majesty, her father and I will have her trousseau ready. We will make sure everything is in order for her dowry as well- we will speak to you after dinner about it in detail.”

Her trousseau; Her clothes. The clothes that soon enough, every night he would remove off this beautiful lady, kiss her bare flesh. And for the first time in months, and he would…no, now was not the time for that sort of thought.

Henry nodded his head. He still felt himself blush.

“That is all good...So, tell me, Lord Y/L/N. How are things with the rest of your family?” he asked the father.

“My mother is sickly, and it troubles me, else she’d be there," the father explained.

Would Y/N make a comment about that? He looked at her-no she didn’t. The utensils clattered against the plates as they ate. Click, click, click.

“The Duke of Lancaster-John, here,- encountered Hotspur's fellow rebels a little while ago- he has grown into quite a warrior- John, would you to tell us that?” Henry prodded.

John nodded and told them all about what happened. She made no reply. Click, click, click, went her fork and knife.

“What do you think of this, my lady?” Henry asked, turning to her.

The lady looked up. And then she nodded.

“I…I think…I think it is well. The Duke of Lancaster did very well,” She answered politely.

“Do you like the food, my lady?” he asked.

“Yes, I was hungry,” she answered.

She only spoke in short sentences. But even that was enough for him to hear her voice.

“Are you excited about the wedding?” he asked.

“I…I am. I only hope it shall please his majesty. And my father and mother as well,” she replied, eyeing them.

“It shall, Lady Y/L/N, it shall,” Henry assured her.

Her plate was cleared. She set down her utensils and wiped the remnants off her lips with her napkin. What would those pretty lips be like to kiss? How would they feel on him? In November, when the wedding was set, perhaps he would find out.

“This castle will be your home soon, what do you think? You’ll have access to the chapel, libraries, and large gardens- the queen always receives a stable full of beautiful horses all for her. What do you make of that?” he asked.

“It…it sounds nice,” she answered.

She was only shy. It only made her more endearing to him. Perhaps with time, she would open up.

“Our daughter enjoys dancing. And she is accomplished at sewing,” the father added.

“Do you?” Henry asked.

“Yes, my lord.” She answered.

“I’m sure you will have all the time you like to sew as you want when we're married. And there will be balls for you to dance for hours- would you like that?” he added on.

“Yes, my lord,” she repeated.

Once the dowry was established, the Lord's Y/L/N- father and son-bowed low and kissed his hand. Far more formal than the usual masculine embrace of about-to-be in-laws. As they returned to the crowd about to set off, Henry approached his intended and kissed her hand one last time.

“I will see you anon, my queen. Sleep well and stay in good health,” he said.

“And may you stay in good health, also,” she replied.

That night, he felt himself burning. Every time he tried to write a letter, he found he couldn't find the words to write to her. He paced about his chambers in his night shift. Excitement, as well as arousal, bubbled inside him. Soon, she would be here. She was only shy for a first meeting- he knew he had the crown on him! That was natural! But that beautiful woman would be on his bed. Opening more of her thoughts to him, as well as her legs. There would be nothing on her, nothing on him either. Then he would lay on her. And for the first time in months, he would enjoy the comforts only a woman could give him.

The memory of touching her hand, her bare skin, made him hard during that those nights before the wedding. He had no taste for prostitutes or even concubines anymore. They weren't her. So, in the privacy of his chambers, with the memory of her touch, he merely imagined her there. He closed his eyes, and relieved himself with his hand, whispering her name like a prayer.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The day of the November Wedding arrived at long last.

Minstrels began to play on their lutes and drums as soon as he left his chambers. He embraced each of his brothers and then entered to begin the procession to the church outside the castle. Henry was draped in his own red cloak with gold in it with a rich red doublet and pants. They walked out to the courtyard just outside the castle entrance.

As he walked outside, the London crowd gaped and gathered to see the line of people forming the party. Already, he could hear the loud bells from the church signaling the start of the wedding. One group walked entered from outside the gates and the minstrels began playing even louder. His heart raced and he smiled noting a white blur as it got closer- the bride.

“A most joyous day of days- I welcome all of you!” he announced before his people.

 They paused as the father approached with the about-to-be queen on his arm. He looked down and opened an arm to greet her.

But when he approached the head of the party, his feet stopped where they were.

 She did look very pretty in her white wedding dress. It was trimmed with gold that shone when she passed sunlight. Her father stood, grinning right next to her. But there were circles beneath her eyes. He saw her hands shake as she clutched a bouquet of flowers. She was blinking rapidly as if to fight off crying. And she wasn’t smiling. 

The English people and court were witnessing an exhausted, terrified, timid young woman on the verge of tears rather than a radiant and smiling Royal bride.

Her father placed her on Henry’s left side, as Eve came from Adam’s left. John, as the Best Man, checked his sword in his hilt. He was decked in armor and a red cloak, his sword by his side. It was tradition and not even royals were beneath it. John then mounted a horse to trot next to them. He was armed just in case the bride was kidnapped. But as Henry looked at her, she might have welcomed it.

They began to walk towards the church, the minstrels playing against the bells from the cathedral. Her gaze was always low, she never looked at him. When her eyes met his, she still didn’t smile. She backed off from even his cloak brushing her.

She seemed to shrink before the doors to the large chapel. It was as if her wedding dress regressed her into a little child. Even though everyone knew she was a woman grown and deemed fit for wedding and bedding.

His in-laws and behind, including his two youngest brothers and his uncle.

The priest for the ceremony would be the Archbishop of Canterbury an old man with a scratchy white beard. He held up a ring and asked in a scratchy voice.

“Does the bride’s father permit the marriage?”

“He does,” answered the father.

“Are the bride and groom related by blood?”

“They are not. He is of the house of Lancaster. She is of the house of Y/L/N,” answered the father.

The interview went on until the priest nodded his head. John swung off his horse. The doors swung open.

He took note of her, following her steps. She moved slow. Yes, it was ceremony. Henry partially wondered if she was delaying arriving at the altar just a little. When they arrived, her father caught up to be by her side. She handed him the flowers. John was by Henry’s side. Both escorted them to face the priest. The chapel was filled with the various courtiers. Members of her family were scattered amongst the pews as well.

The Archbishop took her hand and lifted it up. He placed it in Henry’s, he made sure to make his own hand light, as not to grip her. He noticed her chest slowly rising and down, deepening the breaths.

“Your grace, you will make your vows to the bride.”

He looked her in the eye. Trying to soften his voice. Maybe that would comfort her. He repeated after the priest.

“I will have and hold you in bed and at the table, be you fair or ugly, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.” He vowed.

She gazed up at him like a doe. She blinked. He noticed her jaw unclench. The archbishop delivered a brief sermon on the sacred nature of marriage. He then blessed the ring and handed it to Henry.

Henry held the ring and repeated if after the priest.

“In the name of the Father…”

He slipped it on and off her first finger.

“…And the Son…”

He slipped it on and off her second finger.

“…And the Holy Ghost…”

On and off the third finger.

 “…I thee wed.”

He then placed it over the fourth finger of her left hand. She looked down at the golden band. Admiring it.

“Now, both of you kneel before the Altar for Mass,” instructed the priest.

She let go of his hand and they followed suit. Her father, John, and the Archibishop brought out a canopy, a long, white fabric. It was placed over his and the lady’s head.

“Kyrie eleison…”  sang the church choir before them.

 She was close. So close. Hidden betwixt this sheet. But not the passionate bedsheets of lust. The chaste, sacred canopy of church. The sunlight from the windows and candles filtered over the white sheet and he could see her.

He looked down at her. She looked up at him. Her hands had been folded to pray. But here, they could be granted some privacy. At least during the day. Of course, it was right before the Sanctus, in the pause between liturgy. When he shifted his hands forward, she backed off a little. She didn’t want to be touched now. He had to use words.

“How are you?” he whispered.

“I’m tired, my lord,” she replied.

He gave her a small smile.

“I am too.”

He gave her a wink. She did break one small smile at that.

“We…we need to go back to praying. They might hear.” she prodded.

“I agree,” he replied.

Finally, after the Amen, the attendants took off the canopy, revealing them. The archbishop returned the lady’s hand to join the kings. Then he went to Henry and kissed his forehead.

“I Bestow you the Kiss of Peace. You may give it to your Bride.”

He leaned down and lightly, so lightly, pecked her cheek. The archbishop made the sign of the cross over the couple. John then went over and handed a tiara to Henry. Henry placed it over her head. A wedding and a brief coronation in one.

“I now bless and pronounce thee, King Henry the Fifth and Queen Y/N, husband and wife," the archbishop announced.

The choir sang “agnus dei” as they both walked out together.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was a lovely feast. There were love songs sung by the talented minstrels. Flutes lilted as ale and wine decked the plates. Flowers and gold were everywhere in the throne room, converted into a dining hall. There were more meats, loaves of bread, fruits, and delicacies than the king himself could name. As he finished off a leg of chicken, he checked in on his new wife next to him.

She could only stare out quietly and sip on her goblet. She had not said a word to him since they were served dinner.

Her mother arrived, curtsying at the table.

“Your grace, I would like a word in private with my daughter,” the mother announced.

“Then that you shall…” Henry nodded, gesturing for his new wife to be dismissed.

The mother led her out to the hall outside the dining hall. But Hal himself walked up, saying he was going to speak to the Duke of Burgundy who traveled all the way from France to the wedding.

Then he stopped at a corner. Standing right outside the hall- his ears peeled for the conversation between the women. He then stole glances at them sometimes, when he knew they wouldn't look.

“Y/N, my dear…you are a married woman now. We’ve discussed the specifics. But you must be reminded. There comes the…responsibility you bear. That is, to bear him on you..this would happen no matter who you married.”

“Yes, mother.” She nodded.

“The act is…not pleasant. It is painful when he…enters you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do. I’ve been thinking about it all day,” she replied.

“I trust you are chaste.”

“I swear on it, I am.” She replied.

“There will be bleeding and pain the first time. Men tend to be…enthusiastic. They are full of lust. It is their nature, how God made them. But considering who your husband is…Tonight, it will especially be expected. You will fulfill the very reason you were brought here. You will do your duty to your husband. And you will do it tonight. You know how important it is for the king to have a male heir.”

“Yes, I do, mother.”

“The act is... It is uncomfortable. It is awkward. But it is your duty. As a wife, you must do it. You will be brave and do what you have sworn to do not only for your husband- but for your king, and for England…”

“I promise, I won’t let anyone down. I don’t want to disappoint you or the king…I won't be a disappointment, I won't!” she insisted.

 “You won’t shut him off. You will enter the king’s bed…lift your skirt, spread your legs, and let it happen. It won’t be that hard. Just lie down on the bed- that’s all you have to do. It’s what he expects of you, and what he will want of you…men on their wedding night expect this. And the king will be no different.”

“Yes, mother.”

She touched her daughter’s arm to comfort her.

“Many men are…excited to bed their wives the first time. And no doubt, with such a vigorous, virile young king as we hear he is, he shall be. So tonight, it might not take long. Sometimes, men get so excited to perform the act that after they enter you…it ends quickly. It will only be a few minutes. Then you can go to sleep and go about as normal. And then you’ll have a baby to comfort you - doesn’t that sound nice?”

“It does.”

The young queen then touched her mother’s sleeve, her knuckles popping out as her hand turned into a grip.

“Mother will he….force himself on me?” she asked.

She paused.

“I don’t know…. And considering he’s the king…honestly, I’m not sure if you have a choice in the matter. When Henry says you and now…it’s you and now.”

He heard her start to cry. Her mother then hugged her, wiping the tears from her daughter's eyes.

“But you’ll live here in this wonderful castle, you will have dozens of servants and a baby someday…and you can always write to us…”

She broke the hug and then held her shoulder to look her in the eye.

“I say this only to prepare you. You will do your duty to the King -yes?”

“I will, mother. I won’t fail England. Or father and you.”

“Good. We are proud of you. And like I said, it will hurt…but it will be quick. Just a few minutes of pain, and then it’ll be done.”

He then turned his head and walked away. He asked for some ale and asked after the rotund, red-cheeked duke,  per his promise. Noting when mother and daughter returned to their seats. He then got back to his.

“Would you like to try the beef they made for us? They spiced it well, my lady,” he offered.

Her plate, loaded with food, was untouched.

“No thank you, my lord…” she replied.

“Do you feel sick? Do you need to retire?” he asked.

That last one did not come out the way he intended. Her eyes flashed up at him in a glare.

“I do not feel sick, my lord,” she replied firmly.

There, in that voice, was a touch of how she really felt. The flash of anger. The look she gave him, with a frown and crossed eyebrows. There. She was just like every other lady. She was frightened of him.

More than that-He revolted her. He disgusted her.

In short, she hated him.

If she wasn’t under the pressure of a royal marriage, if she wasn’t under the guidance of the court, the church, and her mother’s words…she would bolt from his side. She would lock her doors tight. She would avoid him. And if he offered his hand up to even walk chastely with him through the grounds, she would swat it away, screaming, and fleeing off.

As king, Henry could have anything. He could have spices imported from the East. He could command armies to march and invade lands for him. He had his own stable full of horses and hunting dogs that were all his. He could have exotic monkeys as pets. He could eat feasts every night and throw parties as he wanted. He could have the money stowed for the church if he wanted. He could have every other woman in England as his concubines. He could lay heavy taxes and have all the gold and wealth of the people in England.

But he could not have a wife who loved him.

If only the feast would hurry up. There was no way he could be alone with her. To talk to her. Perhaps to calm her down, let her know who he really was. Not until it was time for dismissal. But he found his plate, though half-eaten, had satiated him. He set down his fork. He saw his wife’s eyes grow big at the sight.

He turned over to the Earl of Exeter standing by him.

“Uncle … I think it’s time the queen and I excuse ourselves.”

A servant brought away the plate of untouched food from the young queen’s table. Her head turned his direction. She placed her fists onto the cloth napkin and clutched it.

The Lord of Exeter gave a naughty smile and drew his hand up. The minstrels stopped playing and the guests stopped chatting.

“Everyone, the king is going to retire with his bride to his chambers. It is now the hour where-to quote that Danish song- he will open the chamber door, and she will enter a maid and leave a maid no more,”

There was some snickering from a few male courtiers. A knot formed in Henry’s throat. The bride kept her head down and curled into her chair. She looked like a dog scared of its violent master.  

“The Bishop, the Lords, and her servants shall follow them to their rooms to sleep…or to be at it like rabbits…”

“Uncle, it is my wedding, let me speak,” Henry interrupted.

The Earl of Exeter closed his mouth and bowed his head. Henry stood up. He lifted his goblet in a toast.

“The rest of you shall stay here and drink another cup-for the blessing of the royal marriage. I am now not only a king, but a husband as well. We thank you all for celebrating with us today. We shall ask for your prayers for God to protect us both. May He lead us to wisdom and kindness with each other as we enter a new, sacred covenant…to health of the Queen of England!”

The crowd repeated “to the health of the queen!” as they all drank.

With a shaking hand, the queen took the goblet and downed water-maybe wishing it was wine. She then went up, and before the servants could escort her, she went down hugged her sister and her mother.

Then they gathered in a circle, lit torches, and walked down to his chambers. Minstrels beside them walked behind, playing away as one relayed a bawdy song about keys and locks with holes. The night had gotten dark and only that light was around. Behind were Henry’s three younger brothers. The Chief Justice, in a way, the surrogate father for the four Lancaster brothers, followed suit.

Down they walked. They entered the king’s room. Once it was father’s-and now it was his.

“Thank you all," he wished the party as they went inside.

Servants arrived and undressed them both. But he kept noticing many of the men leering at the bride as her ladies began to undress her. She eyed them nervously- a gazelle before a pack of hungry lions.

Henry then asked for a screen to be brought. A page boy arrived and set it up. She scurried behind it. One lord sighed in discontentment. Henry shot him a glare.

She would not suffer. If there was one thing he could do, he would not make her suffer. And he would remind them all who was really in charge. And she would know who it was she was really married to.

His jaw lowered when she emerged from the screen. She had no jewels or crown. She only had a simple white shift. Her feet were bare. She was raw, natural…and still beautiful. He wanted to embrace her in his arms. Kiss her head. Assure her all would be well. Protect her…

She was shivering. It was a November night, deep in Autumn with winter right in its nip. She raised her arms to hug herself. On her skin, he could see gooseflesh.

He brought her father’s old cloak and draped it over it. He offered his hand. She did not swat it away. She accepted it and he led her to sit down.

He then ordered all of them out.

“Now the rest of you- please leave the room…and do not stay at the door if you are not the guards…”

“But your majesty, we must make sure the marriage is consummated. You could at most close the drapes around the bed, but we must make sure you do your duty to your wife. For St. George and the sake of-“

“Yes, that is tradition. But seeing as I am the king now, here is a new one. I ask that all of you leave and go to your own rooms.” Henry protested.

They looked at each other in confusion.

The same lord spoke, “But how will we know if-“

“I’m sure once we discover she is pregnant, you will know the marriage is consummated. Now leave!”

No, he was the King of England now. Even as a prince, the guards had no choice but to let him out to visit Eastcheap. They couldn’t stop him. And every butcher and brawler bowed to him as he walked the streets.

And these earls would not be voyeurs on his wedding night. No matter how much they wanted to. Let them return to their rooms and pleasure themselves over imagining it. They would not see what would really happen.

And that poor girl would not be tormented before them.

 She flinched when he turned to her, but he assured her. Then, slowly, she placed her hand into his. She felt warm, soft to touch. She confided that she was not ready to consummate the marriage.

“You don’t need to worry. Nothing will happen tonight…”

She let out a deep exhale. He poured her a glass from the jug fill of spiced wine. It was tradition for the husband and wife to share it before they went to bed. It smelled of cinnamon. As he poured his own cup and sipped it, he could taste it’s slight kick in it’s dry flavor.

“You didn’t eat anything at the feast. Would you like me to ask for a plate?” he suggested.

“Yes, my lord.”

When he went up to the guard, he quietly requested “Please bring a plate of food for the queen. The feast leftovers will do.”

The guard raised his eyebrows in shock. This was not the sound he expected to hear that night. But he dipped his head and went down. But she drank her wine and ate all of her food.

She fell asleep curled up beneath the blankets on the bed. Finally, after everything, she was at peace. He finished the letters he had to write at his desk. He kept peeking over to see the bump in the blankets and it’s slow breathing. He went back up to the guards.

“I’d like to delay the morning mass for later. Let’s say around ten.  It was a long day. She needs to rest…and so do I.”

The guard nodded.

He went into the bed. It was big enough to where he wouldn’t be able to touch her. He curled up on his side, listening to her breathing as he closed the bed curtains and his eyes.

They slept in. The mid-morning burst through the room, through the curtains.  He awoke before her. She was still asleep. He paused to admire her through the slivers of light.

The attendants arrived, surprised to find the king and queen turned to the opposite sides, away from each other. He wanted to shake her awake, but his hand stopped. No, he would not touch her when she did not want to be touched. He let a lady in waiting wake her.

They sat in the castle's smaller chapel for morning prayers. They waited for it to start when a bishop would arrive to lead them. He sat next to her on the bench on the first row. He turned to her.

“Did you sleep better?”

“Aye, my lord.”

“That’s good…may I eat with you, my lady?”

“Aye, my lord.”

At breakfast, they sat at the table. He was on one side with the high chair, just as his father did before him. She sat on the other side. Close and far away.

“I don’t think I ever gave you a wedding gift," he said.

“I received many wedding gifts, my lord.”

“The court isn’t around you…you can call me Henry," he suggested.

“I received many wedding gifts…Henry.” She corrected.

“Is there anything you would…you would like? Name it, and it’s yours.” He offered,

She looked down, a bit hesitant. Then she opened her mouth.

“I’d like some new dresses if you don’t mind…my trousseau was full of my old ones. I’d like ones that would fit me now that I’m…that I’m queen, please.”

“Oh, of course! I will alert several people. You can have as many as you would like!"

“Thank you, Henry.”

He felt himself blush a little at the sounder of her voice saying his name. He ate another bit of food. The lute in the corner began playing.

“Y/N…do you have a favorite color?” he asked.

She blinked. She answered him. He kept note.

“Mine is black…black and red,” Henry replied.

It was small, but a start.

He asked to enter her room in December. It was the day after the Feast of St. Stephen. They would eat dinner together. The Earl of Warwick had to be the messenger this time. He blushed and nodded. Everyone knew when the king asked to dine with the queen, it was expected for them to make love after the meal. But he would not expect that. He just wanted to be alone with her. To talk to her even more, with the guards at the door and not around the wall.

He had finished studying and his brothers and the chief justice saw them off. As he knocked and entered, the door closed. The Cheif Justice began chatting with John as they walked off to the halls. Yet the two youngest Lancaster brothers, stayed behind, peeling an ear to the door.

“My lady Y/N,” Henry greeted her.

“My lord and king,” she replied. “The dinner is almost ready- they’re about to bring it in. I’m sorry the table is bare…”

“Don’t be. We can wait.”

The servants brought in the food through the door and left. But as they walked off, they noticed Thomas and Humphrey remaining. They looked at each other and kept their ears at the door. The two little brothers kept spying on the couple until there was the sound of footsteps from the hall.

"Where are they? Where are the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester?! cried the Chief Justice.

He arrived with John right outside the door. The boys jumped and returned to their feet with obviously fake innocence. John crossed his arms at them.  The Chief Justice looked red beneath his long, white beard. He huffed through his bulbous nose. He put his arms akimbo.

"What are you doing outside the queen's chambers?"

The boys looked at each other. Their lips were quivering.

“We just…just wanted to…to know…what happens, you know? The... Act. Father never got the chance to tell us what happens on the Wedding Night so…we just…” Humphrey explained.

The Chief Justice shook his head. John turned to them.

“I’ll explain it to them.” He offered.

He walked forward, and with both hands, yanked the ears of his two little brothers. They both went “urgh!” with the pain as he dragged them both away from the door. Off to give them the fateful talk without overhearing anything in person.

The guards stiffened their jaws to keep from smiling. The Chief Justice followed them.

If they managed to stay, they would have been disappointed. The “Act” did not happen that night. They only talked.

“My father compared me to Richard…Before I made an arrogant remark, and he struck me…” Henry recalled.

“Well, serves him right!” she said.

That made him laugh. They talked more as the ate.

“Has it occurred to you, Y/N, that you’re the Queen of one of the largest, and most wonderful countries of the world? And if they bow before me, they should bow before you,” Henry said. Her eyes widened and she blinked slowly. Processing the information.

Then they went to bed. But only to sleep. She told Henry she wasn’t ready yet. But they lay closer together.

“Y/N…has a man ever held you…held you in his arms….” he wondered.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“I wanted…wanted to know…I can touch you without…without…”

“Are you asking to hold me?” she asked.

“It’s cold. And you get cold easily if I recall.”

“Then yes, you can hold me…” she confirmed.

He wrapped his arms around her and he felt her arms reach around him. She felt so warm and soft. She smelled of the lavender they must have put in her bath today.

“Y/N…can I kiss you…” he asked.

“You’ve kissed my hand," she replied.

“On the lips, I mean.” Henry specified.

That felt bold. But this time, she did not object.

“Yes, you can,” she answered.

He raised his large hand to cup her smooth cheek, but as light as if she was made of glass. She looked him in his eyes, eyes he could stare at until they consumed him. As they laid their heads against the pillows, he craned his neck forward and kissed her. She tasted like wine and sauce. He felt himself blush red hot and could feel the breath from her nose. His heart burst forward and began to race with excitement. He was glad he was laying down, his knees felt weak from her lips. Finally, finally, he did it. He kissed her. And he knew that he would give her half his kingdom and his throne too if she blessed him with her lips again and asked for them.

He let go, the lips smacking quietly as they parted. The fire crackled as white puffs of snowflakes fell outside the window.

“Goodnight Henry,” she said.

“Goodnight. Y/N.”

He looked down on her as she slept. Far from the bride with shaking hands and blinking away tears in November. So peaceful. So warm. So safe. Henry felt something fill up his chest as he watched her quiet breathing again. Only this time, she was nestled close to him.

Once he was certain she was fast asleep, He then whispered lowly. Words like those he once spoke over the father he thought was dead.

“My gracious lady…my wife…”

She did not stir to awaken. She stayed in the realm of dreams, where she could not hear him. That made speaking these words easier at the moment.

“This is a sleep which gives much rest to those most troubled. You most of all. What is due from me is fidelity and acts of gentle patience, which nature, love…”

He leaned down, and lightly, oh so lightly, pecked her forehead.

“And marital tenderness I will give you, plenteously.”

The wind whistled as more snow well.

“Your only debt is to have someone who will treat you well-which as your husband I owe you. So, rest, sweet Y/N. And I will stay here I will guard you. Until I fall asleep beside you.”

He then prayed. Looking up, a small smile on his face.

“Dear Lord, I thank you…I thank you for her…she will be good for me…she will teach me so much…let me be a good man for her…”

She wouldn’t hate him. He would do everything he could to make sure she didn’t hate him. If he could not be loved, he would be liked. Perhaps he could be liked. And then, one day, one day at last…she would love him.

He smiled as he fell asleep, embracing his wife.

#the hollow crown #prince hal #henry v #prince hal x you #prince hal x reader #prince hal x fem! reader #prince hal x y/n #prince hal x fem! y/n #henry v x y/n #henry v x fem! y/n #henry v x you #arranged marriage au #medieval au #historical au #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston characters #carrie writes #fluff #historic fiction #history #tom hiddleston characters fluff #smut #prince hal smut #henry v smut #the holllow crown smut #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tooth rotting fluff

[im-a-king-baby]

I am re-reading ELYN now, so I will ask for some insights soon with a fresh memory 😊

But for now, maybe I can send you a flower ?

🌺

Hi!! I hope you enjoyed reading it again!

Here is an epistolary section that never made it into the fic (I had a few spares, just in case 😄):

PopIdolLive shares TEN Fun Facts about Simme to celebrate the And The Next World Tour announcement!!!

Simme is Swedish and Venezuelan. His dad was Swedish but moved to Venezuela where he met Simme’s Mom and they had two kids before moving back to Sweden when Simme was ~3. Simme has credited his Mom’s insistence that they spoke Spanish at home as how he managed to keep the language!

His first ever single Como Este had a mix of Spanish and English lyrics and that blend has continued across three albums, but fans are still waiting for Simme to record a song in Swedish. Simme has blamed this on a lack of Swedish songwriters in L.A. (sad, but true!)

During Simme’s first tour (the Chaos tour!) his crew had an in-joke called ‘Stop! Hammer time!’ where they had to stop at any hardware store they passed on the road and buy a hammer. When the tour split into two buses it became a competition to find the most interesting novelty hammer and they started signing them and giving them to fans at stage door when the buses ran out of hammer space! (eventually this stopped when the label lawyers found out and got scared about liability)

Also on the Chaos Tour, since they didn't have a set tour schedule the merch t-shirts were left blank on the back and the crew would write on wherever they played each day making each one a collectors item (The rarest is the single one for 'Jimmy's House' which has never been sold, but signed shirts from 'LaGuardia Airport Lounge' and 'A Starbucks in Leeds' have hit five figures at auction!)

Simme wore a silver bracelet throughout the Honesty tour which he hasn’t confirmed was a gift from the Voice 2024 runner-up Alfonso Perez but it did appear shortly after they were seated together at multiple events and a photo leaked of them having an intimate kiss in a limo driving away from the AMAs.

Speaking of romantic entanglements, Simme attended a prestigious Swedish boarding school where he dated the Crown Prince of Sweden for nearly three years! They looked adorable together, but broke up after graduation so that the Prince could go into the army and Simme could move to L.A to pursue music.

It has been Noted by the fans that Simme gets less dressed on each album (a jacket on Simme, an unbuttoned shirt on HH, shirtless on ATN.) There is a running fan theory that album 4 which the fans have dubbed ‘the CENSORED album’ will feature Simme fully naked (with the title covering up enough to keep it decent!) staring at the camera.

And if the idea of fans naming albums feels unlikely, we have precedent! In an interview during the Honesty, Honestly press tour the interviewer commented that Simme was released in December 2023, and HH was dropping just over a year later in January 2025, Simme grinned and said: ‘And the next March 26!’. The fans latched onto this, referring to album 3 as And The Next so consistently that it ended up being the name chosen for the album! (which actually came out in June 2026, so only a few months late!)

On the bridge of Relentless Simme names twenty five cities, all of which were visited during the Chaos Tour. When this song is performed live, Simme always includes the name of the city he's performing in on the list (except for Portland, when he got mixed up and said Atlanta instead! Oops!)

Simme returned to his home country of Sweden towards the end of the Chaos Tour, but was unable to play there when he was touring Honesty, Honestly due to scheduling conflicts with Stockholm venues (boo!). The current ATN tour schedule doesn't have Sweden dates listed but there's plenty of time for more countries to be announced so watch this space!!!

#elyn fic #bonus content meme #this is an Official Gossip Site so it does not mention the fanfiction #but there is absolutely Simme fanfiction #This epistolary bit was fun but it didn't reeallly give us any plot which is why it got dropped

[lovingbradshawafterdark]

Make my heart race

Jake seresin x fem!reader (racing au)

Warnings: angst, betrayal, you're Bradley’s little sister in this oops, fake dating...youll see eventually smut but things get kinda spicy here. Also Jake is a bit of an ass here but he’s going to get better I promise

Summary: you write a pretty nasty Article on the best racer Jake Seresin.

Word count: 2.2k

A/n: this was barely edited but I'm proud I managed to wrote this all on one day-

🏷️: @discoseal @lovelybucky1 @marchingicenotes7 @cyrene-world @hangmandruigandmav @uwiuwi @salty0cracker @xoxabs88xox

January 1995

Very few things made Jake this angry. Losing, sure, yeah, that sucks, but that doesn’t get him stomping around and angrily yelling around. He just slammed the article on the table and seethed.

“While it is a for debate whether Jake Seresin is cheating or not, his character does not seem to help his case,” Jake read to the man across from him.

“Bad press is still good press,” Reuben shrugged, yet Jake seethed still.

“Who the hell does this person think they are” he finally bothered to read the name, “of fucking course!”

“Jake, it’s just an article, I’m sure-“

“It is not just an article! This article was good enough to get me dumped” Jake was throwing a tantrum now. Reuben nodded and immediately understood.

“I’m sure another girl will drool all over you soon” he laid back in his chair as Jake read the article over and over. It wasn’t like it had facts but just pure speculation. He was angry but then had an idea, and he could use this to his advantage. Jake quickly got up and grabbed his jacket.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Over to Mitchell’s body shop. I got an idea.”

Bradley only worked on another car as you sat pretty pleased with yourself. He knew something was up with how confident you were.

“What did you do?” He asked as he pulled himself from under the car. You had a giant smirk and were just happily tapping your foot.

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, just something to get me a spot in this magazine. You showed him, and instantly he saw the headline and front cover.

Jake Seresin. This biggest winner or biggest cheater

Bradley shook his head in disapproval, “don’t think you should be lying, sis,” you only groaned before leaning forward.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. All that matters is grabbing people’s attention,” you explained while your brother's eyes furrowed, “the people want drama,” he took from your hands and instantly found the article you wrote. He skimmed through it and immediately seemed to disapprove even more.

“What you’re saying could be damaging. Also, he’s got a quick temper” Brad was quick to note that. You rolled your eyes before excitedly having a realization. You could get some other details.

“What else do you know?” You asked. Your brother being a part of uncle Mav’s pit crew has never been more crucial or beneficial.

“Well, he’s-“ he stops and puts his hands up, knowing what you’re trying to do, “I’m having no part in your gossip.”

“C’mon roo, it’s gotta be something juicy you’ve heard,” you put your hands together, “pretty, please help your little sis out” Bradley only rolled his eyes before returning to his work. You just huffed, sitting back down and crossing your arms. You and Bradley sit in silence before jumping as the door opens loudly. Mav storms in and walks towards you, quite angrily, magazine in hand.

“What’s this?” He holds the article in front of your face. You only smile nervously as he waits for an answer.

“Umm…journalism,” you shrug, laughing strangely as Mav runs his temples.

“We talked about this,” he sighs as you look down sadly. Bradley emerges from under the car again, “you promised you wouldn’t write stuff like this.”

“Don’t act like you’re not a little proud,” you laugh. Your grin fades as you sense your uncle is, in fact, not proud and upset by this.

“Mav, just-“ Bradley tried to reason with him, yet he stepped closer to you.

“I don’t want you gossiping about the other racers anymore. No matter how bad I talk about them, this stuff can easily get to your head and affect the race” you just nodded, not meeting his gaze.

“I don’t get a choice, though. The magazine I wrote for wants to gossip and drama. No gossip equals no pay,” you say honestly, Bradley signals for you to be quiet, yet you don’t back down, “unless you’re that scared Jake can beat ya in a race, you haven’t exactly had the greatest track record.”

“Excuse me?” Mav says, looking almost disgusted. Bradley whispers for you to quit. You stand up, however, and get closer to his face.

“In your most recent races, you’ve lost way more than when you started,” you say, putting a hand on your hip, “and that’s not even speculation. It’s public information.”

“Sis, that’s enough….” Bradley mumbles while you fold your arms. You’re mad now, outraged. You wish he’d understood how your job worked instead of telling you what to do.

“Sorry, you can’t seem to get through your thick skull that I don’t wanna work for you or be in the pit. I like what I do, and it pays rent” you begin to sneer as Bradley puts a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s what your dad would’ve-“

“I’ve never got a chance to meet my Dad, so how would I have now what he would have wanted!” Many repressed emotions were coming to the surface, and Bradley could sympathize. He really could. He remembers feeling that way, yet he got to have time with Nick while you never did. Bradley pulled you away as your uncle went pale. He looked shocked and hurt. He should be used to those words, yet they still hurt. You shove Bradley off you before walking towards the door. You’re about to cry almost. Why did all that come out?

Your uncle tried to come after you, yet your brother stopped him.

“Give her time, Mav. She needs some space.”

***

You just leaned against the wall outside the shop, and it was quiet at night, maybe too soft. You were crying now, crying so hard it hurt your stomach. You pulled out the pack of cigarettes you had never smoked. It was mainly for the crew if they needed them. Not that you were with them much. It was cold, and you left your jacket inside. You tried to light the cigarette, yet your lighter wouldn’t light.

“Need some help with that?” You froze. You knew instantly who that was; maybe using your actual name was a bad idea. You turned around slowly, and before you stood Jake Seresin, looking quite livid as he fiddled with the toothpick in his mouth.

“I’m fine. I don’t think Maverick will like seeing you here,” you say, trying to have some bite to hide your nerves. It wasn’t the first time Jake had shown up here to talk shit, and he immediately shoved the article you wrote in your face.

“Did you write this?” He asks, shoving further into your face.

“Can't tell, really hard to read when it’s right up in the face” Jake laughs at that and lowers the magazine.

“What are you doing here? My article makes you that mad?” You get a sense of sadistic joy from it a bit as he nods. He looks somewhat cute when he is mad.

“I can’t deny I like the attention,” he begins to smirk as he walks closer to you. His eyes green and having quite the evil plan, “I have a business proposition,” you raise an eyebrow.

“A business proposition?”

“Yes, it’s straightforward,” he leans down, “this kind of stuff can get to a racers head…and a little birdy told me you and your uncle haven’t been on the greatest of terms.

“Told, or did you just happen to have listened to that argument?” You couldn’t deny you weren’t intrigued, but this had to have been about something else.

“Same thing in a way. I need you to write some dirt on your uncle and get to him, and it makes it easier for me to win.”

“And?”

“Don’t make them crash. I do like a challenge-“ you walked closer to him. He’s caught off guard.

“This is about something else,” you smiled as he seemed to know what you were about to say, “I know you were dating a pretty well-known journalist. I heard she was gonna break up with you” there was a lump in his throat.

“What are you getting at?” He crossed his arms and looked down at you.

“Well, I don’t quite like my uncle right now,” you look down at your nails, “and you seem quite mad about Bethany right now, used my article as an excuse, didn’t she?” His eyes went wide for a second.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He gritted his teeth as you laughed.

“She cheated on you, tough guy. She just so happened to hear about my story and found a good excuse” Jake’s fists clenched at that.

“What’s this about?” Sauntered over towards the door, a smile on your face.

“Well, I wanna get back at my uncle, and you wanna get back at your ex” you flipped the sign to closed, “You also said you like the attention, and I can tell you that people would write so many’s tidies about dating a legacy racers niece” he was confused for a moment before evilly grinning. He walked back over and placed a hand on your waist. He looked inside the shop and saw Bradley was about to walk out the door.

“Better put on a show for them” he tilted your chin upwards, making your heart pound. Was he going to…no, no, he’s just being a tease, yet your eyes quickly glanced to see Bradley about to walk the door. Your eyes went wide, yet you didn’t have time to process as Jake’s lips soon met yours. It was shocking at first, and you were sure Bradley’s face was something to look at as he finally got to the door. You wanted this to look real. You wanted to go along with this plan. You closed your eyes, and swiftly your arms wrapped around his neck. He jumped briefly before laughing, and his hands were moving dangerously close to your ass. You knew what he was trying to do and nodded as he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip. You knew now if Jake needed to switch careers, he’d be a pretty good actor. His hands soon groped your ass, making you gasp. His tongue went inside your mouth as he pulled you closer to him. You pressed so close to him. He finally pulled away and let you go smiling down quite proudly at you.

“Never pictured you to be a good Kisser, Mr. Seresin” it was your turn to act as you sounded pretty alluring.

“Well then, I’ll see you around then. Oh, didn’t see you there” he looked over at Bradley, whose eye was twitching and mouth wide open, “cat got your tongue, buddy?” Bradley was furious as he quickly walked over and grabbed you by the wrist, and tugged you inside the shop.

“We’re closed,” Bradley yelled before shutting the door. You were laughing and a bit giddy.

“The hell you think you’re doing!” Bradley grabbed you by the shoulders, “did he drug you? I swear if he-“

“He didn’t drug me, idiot,” you said, slipping out of his grasp.

“You wrote that whole article to…get with him” you wanted to cringe at this narrative, but as cliche, as it was, you had to go with it.

“Maybe I did. At least I know what the hangman tastes like now,” you giggled again as Bradley tugged you into the garage.

“He’s a jerk! Why him?!” Bradley was shaking you now. He wasn’t about to let his little sister make a wrong decision.

“Because it makes uncle mav angry, and I like that,” you say, touching your lips and still tasting Jake on them, “he tastes like spearmint, by the way.”

“I don’t care what he tastes like!” Bradley yelled again as Mav walked back in. You could see the disappointed look in his eyes as Jake leaned against the wall behind him.

“See ya on the track, big guy” Jake patted Mav’s back, smirking and gesturing for you to come to him. Suddenly, this felt too real and seeing your uncle look at you all sad hurt your heart. It did…but there was no going back now. You walked over to Jake, and he winked at you as he quickly snuck in another kiss, “looks like you’re gonna need a place to stay since I’ve been permanently banned from the premises, so how about you come home with me?”

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun smut #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun au #hangman x female!reader #jake seresin x female!reader #hangman smut #Jake seresin smut

[inkheartedwanderer]

she's so pretty that you're lost in the stars || e.m.

part 2

eddie x fem!reader

content: (self-indulgent, oops) fluff, mutual pining and maybe a few artistic licenses :)  in my universe we’re all springsteen fans 

word count: 2.4k 

tuesday - january 8th, 1985 

"I still can't believe we managed to get tickets for this." You enthuse, jumping out of the van and closing the door behind you. The cold January air bites at your cheeks and your tight-clad legs, but the excitement coursing through your veins is enough to placate the chill.

The street is busy and loud, alive with people going about their days; the early setting sun casting a soft golden glow over the buildings, kissing them goodnight, and painting the watercolour clouds in hues of pink and orange.

“I still can’t believe I let you convince me to do this for you.” Eddie’s groan reaches you before he does, and you’re wearing a playful smirk when he stops by your side and squints down at you. “I’m losing precious hours of life here! And it’s fucking freezing.” 

He’s not really angry. You know, because there’s a ghost of a smile hidden on the corner of his lips -and because it’s Eddie. He never gets mad. He’s just got a flair for the dramatic, always has. You find it quite cute. 

He’s wrapped in a thick, worn-out lined leather jacket that you love to steal from him on cold nights out, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his torso and hide your face on the collar of his coat. The faint scent of cigarettes and Eddie’s cheap cologne invades your senses. Your voice is muffled, but sugary sweet, overflowing with affection and giddiness when you speak.  “It’s gonna be so much fun.”

You feel him relax under your touch, his hand patting your back softly. “Yeah, yeah.” He takes your arms and pulls you away, his face so close to yours that your noses are almost touching, his umber eyes glistening. “You only like him because you think he’s hot.”

You harrumph and give him a little shove. You’ve had this conversation before, but Eddie likes to push your buttons -always in good fun, he says. 

                                                           -

Winters in Indiana can be brutal, bleak and dark, the sun disappearing early in the evening and rendering the rest of the day useless. For you, that’s hours spent sheltered in the warmth of your room, sometimes alone, but most times with your best friend, laying on your carpeted floor or your bed, listening to music and sharing secrets and cigarettes. 

That’s what you were doing when you told him the news -Eddie, sprawled on your bed, a sight to behold, black cotton against light blue sheets, chains and tattooed arms over flowered cushions, trying not to laugh; you, pacing around the room, gushing over the last-minute tickets you had somehow managed to buy and begging him to go with you; and Springsteen, the man of the hour, crooning softly in the background.

It was snowing outside, the weather unforgiving and the night gloomy, but your bedroom was bathed in a pleasant yellow light, and it was warm in there -warmer than in Eddie’s own room, because the heating system of the trailer was broken. 

He wondered if you’d let him stay over if he asked nicely enough. Maybe pushing your buttons was not the best idea, but Eddie enjoyed how flustered you could get. He knew you would say yes anyway.

“Yeah, that’s not happening, sweetheart.” He was holding an old paperback bent at the spine, which he carefully closed and placed on your bedside table.

Crestfallen and mopey, you kneeled by your bed and grabbed his arm, fingers too gentle to cause any real pain, although the boy gasped in feigned hurt. “Eddie, come on!” Eyes wide and glassy, he always found it hard to resist your puppy face.

Eddie knew that you knew, and he hated it. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“No one has to know! It will be our secret.” 

“You’re only asking me because you don’t have a license. Admit it.” The boy lifted you up effortlessly, and you sat down by his side, your cheeks dusted pink. He cackled and let his head fall dramatically against your pillows. “You really are! You hurt me, woman.”

“I go to every single one of your concerts!” You fought back indignantly, pouting.

“Of course you do!” 

“I was there when Jeff got stage fright.”

“Happens to the best of us.” Eddie crossed his arms, his eyebrow raised in amusement.

“And when Gareth got sick and you had to play without a drummer!”

“Call me when you learn to control your up-chuck reflex, smarty pants.”

“And that day you forgot the lyrics!” 

“Now, that’s a low blow.” He pulled you into his lap and began tickling you mercilessly, your giggles like bells ringing in his ears. You squealed and squirmed, kicking your feet and trying to get away, but the boy didn’t stop until both of your stomachs hurt and tears adorned the corners of your eyes.

Still out of breath, you looked intently at him and spoke with a small voice. “I’ve asked you to come because you’re my best friend, and I want you there with me.” 

Eddie’s eyes softened, and he felt something both too heavy and too light inside his chest, like you were giving him everything he needed and taking it away from him at the same time. Best friend. His fingers were delicate when they squished your face, and his smile was big and dimpled, achingly tender, the kind of smile that he saves for you only. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll go with you.”

The bed creaked when you threw yourself at him, as your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “You’re the best and I love you, you know that?” 

His face was warm, almost as warm as his heart felt, when he hugged you back.

                                                           -

“I like him because he’s good.” You poke his shoulder. “And you’d say the same if you took that metal stick out of your ass.”

He snorts and reluctantly holds the hand you’re reaching out to him, fingers cold and calloused, but pleasant against yours. 

Eddie leads the way, navigating the streets confidently and casually talking about the concert he and his band are putting on next week, asking you if you’re coming to see them. However, you are too focused on your intertwined hands to really pay attention, gazing at them mesmerised. 

Neither of you has ever shied away from physical contact throughout your friendship. Hugs, cuddles and subtle touches are a regular occurrence for you two. It feels so natural that you can’t imagine not being able just to reach out and touch him.

You wonder what would happen if you ever were to confess that those affectionate gestures ignite sparks in your heart, like fireworks burning your skin from within; how you find silly excuses to feel his skin against yours. It’s been eating at you for a while now, the words fighting to escape your lips every time you are around the boy.

“...so?” You blink, snapping out of your thoughts to find Eddie looking at you expectantly. At your silence and puzzled face, he lets out one of his dramatic sighs, exasperated. “Next Friday? The Hideout? You coming?”

“Oh.” Your lips turn upwards. “Of course I am, silly. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He mirrors your expression, and his whole face lights up -the corner of his eyes wrinkle, laughter lines etched on pale skin; dimples, and all his teeth on show. 

There’s already a crowd gathered when you get close to the stadium, and you feel the electricity in the air, like you and all these hundreds of people are inside a bubble -the streetlights seem brighter, the traffic muted and far away, a shared furore coursing through your bodies.

Moving among the crowd towards your designated entrance, you throw curious glances at the people around you, the vibrant colours of some jackets, the voluminous hairstyles and striking make-up looks a few people sport.

Eddie leans in to whisper above the noise and chatter, tugging you close, his breath fanning. “One day, all these people will gather to see Corroded Coffin. Mark my words.”

“And I will be there, front row.”

You’ve never seen him look at you the way he’s looking at you now, and Eddie prays the burst of affection he feels isn’t too obvious (it is, although you can’t pinpoint exactly what his dark eyes convey).

As you stand in line, waiting for the doors to open, you notice the first stars twinkling in the fading blue sky, framing Eddie, forming a silver halo around his messy curls, highlighting his cheekbones -like a vision, you think, straight out of a dream.

Indianapolis has never looked so pretty to you as it does tonight. Neither has he.

                                                          -

Your seats are far from the stage, but you don’t really care. The music reverberates through the arena, pulses from the beat making the floor vibrate; your voice, and Eddie’s, mingling with those of thousands of others, singing along to every verse.

And the boy is surprised, but he’s actually having a really good time. The band sounds great. Bruce is an exceptional front man, his voice raspy and powerful. The energy, although different to what he’s used to in his metal concerts, is infectious anyway.

Mostly, he’s captivated by the sight of you, uninhibited and carefree, straining your voice with a smile so big it’s almost splitting your face in two. At times you turn around to sing the lyrics at him while he stares subtly; other times he grabs your hand and twirls you around, and he swears each giggle that falls from your lips flutters straight to his soul and finds a home there, for him to keep. 

A little over an hour into the concert, there’s a brief pause. You’re out of breath, sweaty and flushed, but your eyes glisten with happiness when you turn to look at Eddie. “Are you having fun?” The faint lack of confidence behind your question vanishes when the boy nods.

You’re considering confessing your feelings to him right here and now, when a slower beat begins to play softly, synths over a deep bass rhythm. In honour of a birthday, and in honour of love. Eddie steals a glance at you, your eyes wide and expectant. Springsteen’s raspy voice echoes through the air.

Well, wise men say only fools rush in…

“No way!” You turn around, beaming. Your hand sneaks around his arm and you tug lightly. “I love this song!” Your free hand is placed over your heart, you join the chorus of voices singing along.

Eddie can’t help it, not when you’re glowing like this, with a giddy smile and flush skin and twinkling eyes. Not when each one of the lines sung reminds him of you. The words leave his mouth before he’s even had time to process the thought, blending with the music, just when the chorus hits.

“You know I love you, right?”

You spin around, still grinning, but eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, the tiniest glint of confusion across your face. Leaning closer to Eddie now, your eyes move back to the stage.

“Sorry, what? I didn’t hear.”

“Mmh, it’s nothing.” He wraps his arms around you from behind and lets you fall back against his chest. Your hands find his, fingers soft as you trace them mindlessly across his skin. Eddie rests his chin on your shoulder, he can smell the fruity aroma of your shampoo and your hair is tickling his face. “Maybe I should add this to our set list.”

You barely manage to conceal the shiver that run down your spine when his breath kisses your neck as he speaks. “I think you should.”

Eddie’s voice overpowers every other sound as he sings, close to your ear.

…but I can’t help falling in love with you.

If you only knew.

                                                          -

It’s cold outside, the darkness broken by the light radiating from the streetlamps and buildings. Even though it’s late at night, the city is still bustling with people and vehicles, their cacophony of sounds humming like white noise in the background. Each step away from the stadium comes with a breath of fresh air and a much welcome January breeze that relieves your clammy skin, your breath condensing as you exhale in white clouds.

As the crowd disperses and the ruckus fades into a distant murmur, you and Eddie stay behind, neither of you looking forward to the drive back home. He stretches, a sliver of pale skin showing between the hem of his black sweatshirt and his jeans. You force yourself to look away, eyes trained on the boy’s face, but the cheeky grin he sports makes you fear he's noticed. If he has, he says nothing.

To hide your blush, you turn your back on him and start walking. What follows is not an awkward silence, those don’t exist between you two. It’s a new kind of silence, however, the dense weight of unspoken words lingering in the air.

“What were you saying, before?” You fall into step beside him.

Your question takes Eddie by surprise, he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks. “Can’t remember. Nothing important.” He’s taken a second too long to answer, he realises, when he notices the look in your eyes has changed. 

“I just thought I’d heard…” You begin, unsure. The beat of your heart is pumping against your eardrums as you strain to remember exactly what you think you’d heard. But when you lock eyes with his, you decide against bringing it up. Just in case you heard wrong. So you just shake your head and catch his hand, pulling him in and leaving a sloppy, nervous kiss on his cheek; eyes brimming with affection. “Thank you so much for doing this for me, Eds.” You don’t drop his hand, and even though your eyes travel to the floor, there’s a loving smile painted across your lips, tinting your face a soft, glowy pink. 

And he almost confesses again, he almost allows himself to tell you how much he loves you, how he’s willing to do anything you ask him to if that means you’ll smile like this again. Like he’s hung the stars in the sky for you. And he would, if you wanted him to. He could get lost on that smile of yours.

But the way you look right now, next to him, so pretty and happy, joy radiating from your very skin like you’re a star, burning, his own personal Sun, feels enough. For now, at least.

You’ve never looked so pretty to him as you do tonight.

                                                  🌷 🌷 🌷

a/n: Hi:) Thank you so much for reading, if you’ve made it to the end. I’m not as happy with this one as I would’ve liked, but I hope you like it anyways. I love Bruce Springsteen, so when I found out he debuted his cover of Elvis’ Can’t Help Falling In Love at his January 1985 Indianapolis concert, I couldn’t help myself.

I’m (slowly, I’m afraid) working on another, longer Eddie story and on a Robin fic as well. I’ll be finally free next week, so hopefully I’ll be able to write full time. 

Thanks again, much love ♡

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fanfiction #fluff #stranger things one shot #eddie munson x fem!reader

[fallingforfandoms]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @all-my-worlds-a-stage (and sorry for only getting back to you so late, but, you know, ideas had to be dwelled upon, etc etc etc)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

14 - could have been less if I had been a a more responsible human being with more impulse control, could be more if I wasn't such a goddamn perfectionist, sigh.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

332,695 (because my projects usually escalate way too quickly, sorry not sorry)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Officially, Tatort - Tatort Ludwigshafen to be specific. Currently peering over the edge for Münster and Wien. And I had a huge obsession with the MCU and The Witcher and Sherlock before, and still have half a novel based on The Night Manager up on my drive somewhere. And then there was also that missing scene from House of Cards that started it all on AO3 (but it's buried beneath a bunch of Lena Odenthal content now, thankfully).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sonne, See und Sterne: The summer holiday fanfic that I wrote throughout December and January (... sounds pretty normal imo) for Lena Odenthal and Johanna Stern and that I still like to read from time to time to dive back into that vibe :')

A Scarred Sunrise: My debut fanfic on ao3, the infamous House of Cards oneshot that probably only got this many kudos because it's not part of a German niche fandom :'D

The Hand Is a Servant of the Heart: The very first Lena/Johanna fic that I published, yet another missing/adapted scene from canon (aka from one of the more traumatising Ludwigshafen episodes that needed some sort of ... band-aid to be fixed, lol).

Das Nest: My very first fluff & smut Lena/Johanna fic that didn't fall into the abyss of trauma and tragedy but instead escalated into a Love Actually rip-off by the end (and I still adore it for that).

Liens de cuir et mains de soie: A dom/sub/switching kinda character study/crossover between Lena Odenthal and Esther Baumann set mostly in France, inspired by the lovely but lowkey deranged idea by @disappointingsalad at the start and improved by her very own contribution at the end - thank you so much! :)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, because I love each and every one of them from the bottom of my heart!!! <3 (Also, the only reason that it takes long-ish for me to reply to some of them is that I cannot stop grinning and jumping up and down out of pure joy every single time I re-read them to reply properly, so, sorry not sorry, but you people make my day with those and I save them in an extra outlook folder because of that <3)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Since I'm usually rather fond of happy endings, I tend to resolve most of the tension. "Zerrissene Fäden" would be a possible candidate though. Maybe also "I've Come To Burn Your Kingdom Down" or "A Scarred Sunrise". Because of the uncertainty that still simmers through towards the end, but idk.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Well, since I'm a sucker for happy endings, they're all quite happy so far. But the happiest ... huh. Maybe "Das Nest". Or "Sonne, See und Sterne". Or "Liens de cuir et mains de soie". I can't decide on this either, apparently, oops :'D

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, no. But that's one of the few advantages of a small German fandom without great shipping wars, I suppose :'D

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Ha. Haha. Hahaha. Yes. Been there, done that, many kinds of that, in fact. Anything from the sweet vanilla kind (looking at all those 'found family' tropes) over the fast and messy ONS kind to the dom/sub-themed and/or throuple 'well that escalated quickly' kind. Each has its own perks. And its challenges (looking at the classic wlw problem of overusing "she" etc). But I still love delving into those headcanons on a regular (and mildly irresponsible) basis ;)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I wouldn't call it far-fetched since both fandoms are Tatort-related, but the sub/dom-themed Ludwigshafen/Saarbrücken crossover up on ao3 is definitely ... some kind of crazy. And then there are also all those Wien / Münster / Bremen ideas which haven't quite left the nest that @all-my-worlds-a-stage and I have so far built for them. Look forward to those ;) Also, in non-Tatort terms, there was this one Geralt/Loki fanfic I started years ago but I'm ... not even sure I'd find that cursed document again at present :'D

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'd know of it (niche fandoms strikes again).

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope (niche fandoms strikes again).

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, with @disappointingsalad. And I'm currently working on some other ideas that require more than my last two braincells, in this case with the help of @all-my-worlds-a-stage ;)

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Given my ao3 history, the case seems pretty clear - definitely Lena Odenthal/Johanna Stern. Honorable mentions go out to Sherlock/John, Geralt/Jaskier and Jamie/Brienne. And to Wilhelmine Klemm as well, because whoever she ends up with is so goddamn lucky to have her (and I'm here for each and everyone of them).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh God. Most of them, I suppose, given the lethal combination of adhd and perfectionism that rule my brain? :'D But the first thing that came to mind was the band AU I started a couple of months ago. Because the movie playing in my mind just at the thought of it is already so perfect and I don't have any idea how to get all of those scenes written down in exactly that way.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Probably dialogue? The amount of raw dialogue I've written as a kick-off for some vague idea is ... quite telling. In many ways.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Introspection. Whenever it comes to the thoughts of characters, my own mind is just ... blank. No idea what they could be feeling or thinking in this very moment, or rather, no idea how to phrase it without putting it into dialogue. Yeah, I know, just what a non-TV writer needs to work properly :'D

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Been there, done that, probably wouldn't do it again, at least not in the way I did it then.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Officially, House of Cards. Unofficially, probably Sherlock? Or the MCU? That was ... ages ago though.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

You CANNOT ask a mother which of her children she- well. Wait a minute. I think I'll throw "Von Schwertglanz und Schattengewächsen" in there, the medieval Tatort Ludwigshafen AU I started this February. Because this is such a long-ass project that has accompanied me through some pretty ... interesting months and I worked so many inspirations and easter eggs into it. And I'm continuing to do that now, in this very moment, because I watched a very gruesome Tatort Wien episode (thx for the rec @carlomainzinger ;_;) that had just the right amount of protective & soft found family vibes and raw & unfiltered force to thwart me back into this setting (not as hard as Bibi was thwarted around her own flat though, uargh). So, yeah, uh, look forward to that, the wait might be over soon ;)

Well. That was fun. Throwing this over to @carlomainzinger @mordsfesch @krejong @rheingoldweg12a @occhi-verdi-come-il-mare @disappointingsalad @karin-in-action @khalaris @cornchrunchie and literally anyone else who wants to join in, no pressure though!

#tagging game #jo schreibt

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

Holiday Hijinx, Fluff Edition

Merry Christmas!

@thesere1418, let me try to answer your actual question: how does Team Treasure spend Christmas?

Last time, I posited some theories on what the gang’s pre-treasure hunt Christmases looked like. The short version: lonely and isolated to varying degrees. Sometimes of the “sitting home alone” variety, and sometimes more “alone in a crowd.”

This time, we’ll look at how Team Treasure might spend Christmas after the events of National Treasure bring them all together. Fluff will ensue! But since I’m a hopeless pedant, I’m going to make you work for it.

Let’s begin with the timeline. Way back in the very first issues of this blog (insert nostalgic awww), we took a deep dive into the timeline of National Treasure, both how long the events of the movie take place and when they take place. If we’re looking at the first Christmas after the movie, the timeline piece will become very important.

As I wrote there:

The 70th Anniversary of the National Archives really was in 2004. The organization was founded on June 19th, 1934. June 19th 2004 was a Saturday, so it’s conceivable that the Gala was meant to be that weekend. However, based on all the characters’ clothing, I’ve always felt like National Treasure was a fall movie. … It’s already dark when Ben arrives. Sunset on June 18th, 2004 was at 8:36pm in Washington DC, so that gets us to potentially 9-11. However, that seems like a late start, especially considering this gala’s attendees are probably mainly older, wealthy donors. In September, sunset would have been closer to 7pm. I still think it’s fall. All we know for certain is that the story had to take place before October 31, as that was the last day of daylight savings time in 2004.

Based on the National Archives fact, the movie should theoretically take place in June. However, this is not how you dress in Washington D.C, Philadelphia, or New York in the summer.

[Outfit snips]

This could be explained by the fact the the movie actually filmed in September 2003 - February 2004. And they’re dressed like it. It’s impossible (for me anyway) to watch the movie and believe it’s anything but fall.

In my heart, National Treasure is a November movie. However, we know that doesn’t fit canonically either since the story had to take place before the end of Daylight Savings Time, October 31, 2004.

So let’s say it’s mid-October.

That means the first post-treasure hunt Christmas is only two months and change later.

As I posit in…an article I haven’t published yet, oops, I don’t think Ben and Abigail got together immediately after the treasure hunt. I think Abigail is too pragmatic to make a major decision like that on the heels of having her whole life turned upside down by the treasure hunt, and I think Ben has been burned before by women who found his whole Indiana Jones schtick charming, until it wasn’t.

Also, what season is the “Three months later” epilogue supposed to be? September? For our purposes a unseasonably mild January day, I guess.

Team Treasure’s First Christmas

The reason I am dwelling on this, other than because it delays the creative work of imagining things that didn’t happen on screen, which I am inevitably procrastinating, is because deciding when the treasure hunt took place really colors how Team Treasure spends their first Christmas together.

If the treasure hunt happened in June, then things have had time to settle down by December. Ben and Abigail are new but reasonably well established couple, Ben is settled into his massive new house, and the logistics of dealing with the treasure are well enough under control that everyone can take a breather.

If the treasure hunt happens in October, none of these things are the case. Sorting out who is working on the treasure, what pieces are going where, security, research, transportation, sale donation, etc. etc. is still a full-time nightmare headache. Ben and Abigail are toying with the idea of actually dating but haven’t taken the plunge. Ben bought his big stupid house but it’s 80% empty rooms and 20% cardboard boxes.

So.

Riley and Abigail still go home for the holidays, but although the basic sequence of events is the same as it always has been, the feel is very different. Abigail is no longer just the reserved, quiet, nerdy aunt. Riley is no longer the burnout computer geek uncle. They’re treasure hunters. They’re famous, at least for this moment in time. Everyone is either tiptoeing around them or running up to ask a bunch of questions.

For Riley: “Were you scared?” “How many crimes did you commit?” “Did you really fool the FBI?” “How did you break into the National Archives?” “What does the Declaration of Independence feel like?” “Does this mean you’ll get a better job now?” “Will IBM take an almost-felon back?” “What are your plans moving forward?” “You know, that Gates fellow isn’t going to need you any more.” “Have you thought about a history degree?”

For Abigail: “That treasure hunter’s pretty handsome. Hint hint, googly eyes.” “How did you meet?” “Is he as charming as he looks on TV?” (Oh my god mom.) “You’re sure you’re not in trouble at work?” “You worked so hard to get where you are. I’d hate to see you throw it away on some crackpot. Even if he’s rich now.” “Does the Archives give medals? You should get one.”

It’s a lot, but they get through it. They both know that this is a one-time thing. The Templar Treasure won’t be the hot news story next year.

As for the Gates boys, Ben is finally the center of attention at his mother’s Christmas party in a good way. For the first time he can arrive with his head held high. The academics spend all night asking him detailed questions about the treasure and the search, how he knew where to look for Charlotte, what he’s learned about the contents of the cavern so far. The attention and interest feels good, but nothing feels better than his mother’s proud smile saying, That’s my boy.

And on Christmas day, Ben and Patrick have dinner together. It’s stilted and awkward at first, especially since it’s just the two of them. There’s no one else to serve as a buffer, and their years of estrangement hang over the afternoon like inescapable clouds. “Oh, you play poker?” “Been in the same Thursday night poker group for fifteen years.” Silence.

But then the topic switches to John, and early Christmases the three of them spent together. “Grandpa and I spent a day driving all over D.C. looking for the perfect ship in a bottle. I think we visited twelve different antique dealers that day. That was my first treasure hunt, I guess.” “I still have it. It’s right here.” “I always thought you hated it. I know you and he didn’t see eye to eye about the treasure.” “We didn’t. But it was from you, so it was always special to me.”

It’s ends up being a pleasant evening of reminiscing, and an important step as Ben and Patrick start to rebuild their relationship.

Subsequent Christmases

And finally, your actual question!

By the next year, everything is much more settled. Ben, and now possibly Abigail as well, actually live in the giant house. It’s filled with books and antique furniture and maps to possible future treasures. It’s lived-in and it’s theirs. They’re an established couple at this point, and the treasure situation is much more under control. And it would be insane of them not to throw a Christmas party in that massive, massive house.

The house is decked out with vintage Christmas decorations and a fifteen foot tree. In the style of the 18th century, the main fireplace is decorated with fruit and greens. There’s catering and a hundred guests and a band (perhaps that same string quartet from the gala?). This first year especially, they really go all out.

But their actual Christmas Eve and Christmas day celebrations are much more intimate. Abigail makes a selection of German Christmas cookies and she and Ben and Riley decorate a second, smaller tree on Christmas Eve. Riley brings kugel and rugelach from his favorite deli and tells them about some of his favorite family traditions. Patrick stops by for a while and they sip nice wine or nicer scotch around the fire while reminiscing about the insane last year that brought them together. The treasure hunt but also the excavation of the treasure and their travels around the world to all the exhibit openings.

Ben and Abigail dance to slow jazz in the firelight. Patrick beats Riley at chess, repeatedly.

They exchange gifts, but what do you get new multi-millionaires who just found a history-redefining treasure?

Gifts

Ben gives Riley an early prototype of Hedy Lamarr’s frequency hopping radio that would become the basis for wifi and GPS technology. He gives Abigail letter written by George Washington that he once found in an old house in Virginia. And he gives Patrick a framed photo of himself, Patrick, and John. In all the hubbub about the treasure someone had tracked down old family photos of theirs.

Riley gives Ben a framed blueprint of the National Archives overlaid with the exact route he took to steal the Declaration. There’s a small note at the bottom that says “Security has since been upgraded.” He gives Abigail a computer program that can sort her email much more accurately that any built-in program in 2004 could. (He’s been working with the National Archives to bolster their digital security.) For Patrick, he’s not really sure what to get, but when Ben suggests a nice bottle of scotch, Riley takes it a step farther and gets a custom blend made and labeled “Trinity Church Staircase (contains no actual 200 year old wood).”

Abigail gives Riley a book of American history written in an fun, narrative style—picture Drunk History in book form—and a state of the art remote control drone. She gives Patrick an set of antique letters from a period she knows is of interest to him. And for Ben, she puts together a scrapbook off newspaper coverage of the treasure from all over the world. She puts out a call to the archivists community, in addition to the papers and magazines she’s been collecting as they travel.

Patrick gives Riley a computer programing manual from the 1940s, one of the earliest in the world, and a two books on conspiracy theories, one from the 1870s and one from the 1970s. He gives Abigail antique records of her favorite composer, and brings an album of baby pictures of Ben to show her. And for Ben, he gives him the Gates family scrapbook, which Patrick has taken and updated with pictures of Ben and the treasure.

The Gang’s Christmas Superpowers

As for special holiday skills,

Ben is a master gift finder. He doesn’t give gifts too often (he’s pretty oblivious to the whole thing) but when he does, he finds the perfect item. It’s never something off the shelves, it’s the same antique china pattern your grandparents had when you were a kid, or a vintage book on your favorite topic.

Abigail is the perfect gift wrapper. Her fastidious nature, steady hands, and decade of training to handle delicate paper items make her excellent at it, no matter the shape or size. Perfect corners every time, paired with the perfect ribbon and bow.

Riley doesn’t love Christmas music, but if he has to hear it, he wants to hear what he tolerates, so he’s created a database of all the best Christmas music ranked by decade, vibe, and his personal taste. He can whip up the perfect playlist for any occasion in seconds.

Patrick can tell you a historical Christmas event from any year between 1717 and 1990. Choose any year and he’ll have an anecdote about the news of the time, anything from small town goings on to world-changing battles and decisions.

Conclusion

There you go! A Team Treasure Christmas!

Whohoo! I did it! I got the article out on time!

Hope you’re all having a nice holiday out there if you celebrate.

#national treasure #the national treasure gazette #ben gates #abigail chase #riley poole #patrick gates #team treasure #christmas

[pebblysand]

Hi Jo,

Huge fan of your work and I hope you’re enjoying the holidays, I was wondering if the Dursley’s will ever show up in Castles?

Canonically Harry and Dudley send each other Christmas cards and Harry even visits with the kids, so I was wondering if that is something will see happen or if you have your own thoughts on what if anything happens between Harry and the Dursley’s.

hi anon! this is such a great question and one i've dreaded one of you would ask for a while, now. 😅

long story short: this is one of my plot holes. oops. basically, what happened (which you probably can guess from the text if you squint) is that originally, dudley was supposed to make a "comeback" in act 2 (chapters 8-15). i laid all the ground work for it in act 1, with the interview that harry gives and giulia telling harry to send the magazine to the dursleys, etc. at the time, i had this story in my head of dudley replying to harry's letter and them just - i wouldn't say reconnecting, that would be a bit much, but harry sort of growing and forgiving and dudley growing and apologising. your classic dudley redemption story (which i love, by the way).

except, chapter 8 happened. and, following, every non-essential plotline just got pushed back to ... later. i don't regret it, i think committing to chapter 8 was one of the best decisions i made, but ginny/amycus was So Big and So Important that understandably, if you add the "wizarding admin" plotline of the trials + mia, etc. there just wasn't material space to add stuff about dudley. my chapters are already long enough as is. and, i do remember that i tried multiple times to make space for it, but it also just wouldn't work within the general themes that were being explored in that arc. it's hard to explain but: you know how the writing in castles sort of "spirals"? well, i couldn't find a free space within that spiral to hook the dudley story in a way that stuck.

when i got to chapter 17 last spring, i was like: here, this is my moment! 🤣. because, let's be honest, not much happens in chapter 17 (which is on purpose, i mean, that chapter is just #vibes) but then i wrote it and i finished it and it was 17,000 words already and fuck. now, you may have noticed that i did try. there's a moment where harry and ginny are talking about how dudley once tried to drown him in the toilet and this happens:

It gets easier, being with her, after a while. Being vulnerable around her. Letting her see him the way she’s let him see her. She’s not the only one with secrets in her closet. ‘I reckon Fred and George tried to throw Percy down the loo once,’ she pushes, gently. It’s a funny story. Harry smiles at it when he looks up to the ceiling. Thinks of stupid, childhood games and the way Molly probably ran upstairs to yell at them at the top of her lungs.  ‘It wasn’t like that,’ he speaks.  ‘I didn’t think it was.’ He breathes in. Out. Traces a line down her arm with his fingers. He thinks of things he’d rather not remember. ‘Not now,’ he whispers.  She smiles, nods. Slowly and quietly moves to sit on top of him, straddling him. She lowers herself down for a kiss, her palms on either side of his face. His hands settle at her hips; he feels the heat of her against his belly again. ‘Okay,’ she just says. ‘“Not now,” doesn’t mean “never,” though, yeah?’ He smiles against her lips. Pulls her so close. ‘’Kay.’

you have no idea how many times i re-wrote that scene, trying to see if i was going to take that conversation further. but, honestly, it didn't feel right to do so. again, something wasn't working. so, i pushed it again, except chapter 18 was already "full" with the abortion story, chapter 19 was full for Obvious Reasons, and now... here we fucking are 🤣.

where i'm at now: full-disclosure, i lied when i said i wasn't writing before january. i couldn't stay away. so, yes, chapter 20 is on the way. having said that, i have been struggling a lot with it, so it probably won't be released soon anyway.

but one of things i have been struggling with, actually, is this. to me, it feels very natural to bring up the topic of dudley/the dursleys as harry is having children of his own. but i think one of the things i'm struggling with is also: what i want to do with this, exactly.

because, tbh, my take on this in castles has kind of changed, over the two years that it's taken me to get to this point. i'm going to correct one thing and say that the fact that dudley and harry are on christmas-card terms isn't canon-canon, it's post-DH JKR canon, which in my opinion isn't "hard" canon. i see the stuff that she's said after the release of the books on a "keep what you like, toss what you don't like," sort of policy. i've taken a lot of stuff from it (harry becoming an auror, etc.), and even took stuff from cursed child (albus being sorted into slytherin) but i don't consider myself bound by it.

and, idk. i think part of me now feels like this could be one of the topics in castles that remain a bit "unresolved". a lot of subplots will have tight bows wrapped around them, but i wonder if the topic of the dursleys could just be: harry deciding that actually, some things are unforgivable, and that, while he doesn't necessarily hold a grudge, he also doesn't want to give them the time of day in his life. the kind of thing where he'd meet dudley at the pub once, and decide that objectively, his life is better without these people in it. he doesn't owe them anything. so, that's what i'm kind of toying with at the moment.

it is proving hard to write, though. mostly because of bigger issues i'm currently having with chapter 20, but what i do know is that this does have a time constraint attached to it. if i can't fit something in chapter 20 or 21, this will stay unresolved. 22, 23 and 24 are frankly too packed for me to include anything else.

so, i suppose, stay tuned. you were right to ask, it's one of the very few (maybe the only?) castles plot points that i'm still undecided about! 😱

#castles #asked and answered

[rocketturtle4]

Not Me Eps 10-12 (of 14 turns out) I am drowning in study, have an update.

If anyone reading this wonders why I have disappeared off their dash or out of their notes it's not you it's me, PhD is breathing down my neck and I am barely running fast enough so I'll be back more in December!...or maybe January 😅

@plantsarepeopletoo @anon451 @shouldiusemyname @thegalwhorants @wen-kexing-apologist @slayerkitty @fanfictionroxs @pandasmagorica

I watched these three one at a time so ep 10 was a while ago now but the plan is to watch the final (actual final) 2 together so I figured I should scream again about how much I love this show before I finish it.

I LOVE IT FOLKS

Ep 10 was rough!

*racks brain for what happened in ep 10*

*checks screenshots*

*one single screenshot from ep 10...*

this is the downside to watching with people...can't pause for screenshotting and I didn't double watch this ep oops

I'm pretty sure this is the ep where:

Black goes back to being Black and breaks Seans heart and beats him up

Dan joins them

White pretends to be Black while seeing his mother but his mother realises anyway.

They all get shot at/actually shot

White saves Sean (and he's EVEN MORE CONFUSED)

...wait do I not even have screenshots from the post saving stuff? That's just wrong.

I will rectify it but this update will be light on screenshots!

I still had questions about Todd and Black here about what happened to them but ep 11 answered those questions!! Even if I spent all of ep 10 and 11 waiting for White and Black to be in the same room as the gang or someone to figure it out or SOMETHING and FINALLY Ep 11 was like....

WAIT

The care screenshots were Ep 11!!

Also before this was the Todd/Black confrontation and their back story was SO interesting. Todd thinking he could use the power, Black wanting to take down the power entirely. SO many Layers I LOVE IT

In some ways I think Black betrayed Todd more than the other way round but really the nuance of it all is fascinating.

And obviously Todd putting Black in a coma trumps that...

BUT THEN EP 12

The HANDCUFF FIGHT

The Brothers!!

THE CHASE?!!

Sean was so desperate GAH I LOVE THEM

Seriously I love them so much I wasn't even mad First was only in this episode for like...3 minutes.

I just want to sit there and stare at them

(Anyone watching Venus? It's really good)

Sean is so loyal and so true, White trying to stay away and regretting it, making his brother understand, making Sean understand.

I am so glad I watched Theory of Love before this or I might have been tempted to go looking for more OffGun and then I'd be watching ToL after this and just...no

Super excited for Cooking Crush now though!!

The Twin connection making Black cry and choke, THE TWINS COMING TO AN UNDERSTANDING

Black being determined to take down Todd while Sean is so determined to take down Tawi has got me SO CURIOUS for the last two eps, I mean we had the drug operation (and Sean using that as leverage to get White to introduce himself lol). But Todd clearly still cares for Black and Black is so opaque because he's been in a coma for most of this and his character before and his actions after, they just seem so focused but without...nuance?

And I doubt this show is going to end without nuance, the protests are rising and the gang are finally a team, there's a plan and cops and AHHHHH

I don't know... I need to finish it (maybe this weekend...maybe in three weeks time)

I have no idea if I am going to have complex thoughts when I am done. But the way this show is exploring these complexities, the law, the privellege, the power, the idealism. It's so fascinating.

OH another thing this ep

Sean tried to get the cop to shoot himself! And then Gram showed up (finally lol, felt like he'd wandered off somewhere...) just in time to give that whole speech that essentially boiled down to: an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.

...I really want my little brother to watch this show.

I can't wait to see what happens with it all, I am going to have to go meta searching after I am done...and after I am done drowning in study probably

Predictions?

Todd and Black are going to come to some kind of mutual ground

no idea about Tawi, taken down maybe? but not by them exactly, but the public maybe, although the law probably needs to come into it

Gram Eugene Black love triangle? Honestly don't know (and my pick Black/Gram is out soooo... probably Gram/Eugene if they choose to resolve it

MORE YOK/DAN (*manifesting*)

will Dan be discovered and fired?

WHAT ABOUT THE PARENTS? we haven't heard from the dad in ages??

Also Whites whole actual career arc...?

Hope you're all doing well!!

(also the music in this show, it's on point!!)

#Not Me #Not Me the series #rturts is wondering #roc plays catch up

[lichfucker]

yesterday (march 22) was the one-year anniversary of oops all dwarves' first session.

this is the first campaign I've ever gmed. I've run one- and two-shots aplenty, but this game is the first that's endured. it wasn't easy to get to that place; oops all dwarves saw a couple different iterations before it settled here, in this world, in this system, with these players, with these characters. with this gm.

besides a two-shot I ran for the reforged crew, I was the only one of us who had ever played savage worlds before. we were all far more familiar with 5e, but that system didn't work for us, for what we wanted from this game. did I think savage worlds was the perfect system? not necessarily. but it's the one I was most comfortable running. I didn't want to spend months of my life trying and failing to find something better. I was sick of waiting for someone to hand me the campaign.

in all things I do, and in dwarves particularly (with regard to starting the campaign at all), there's an element of "if you want it done right, you have to do it yourself." but I haven't done it myself. the best of this game is not what I have done myself. I sat down with my players in january of 2022 and said, "here's a homebrew world I've been working on since 2017. I know everything about one corner of one continent. let's start somewhere I know nothing about." and we built the city of Reverie, its geography, its culture, three thousand years of its history. my players made the decisions that I keep coming back to, again and again, whenever I need the world to feel alive. and I always need the world to feel alive.

what could have been a silly game of crime and poor impulse control and delayed adolescence and instant gratification has instead become a story about self-determination, about independence and interdependence, about personhood. about identity. about community. about devotion. about love.

maybe you're Fix (it/its, played by @kingfisherkink), a twelve-foot robot built during the technological renaissance of the 3300s when artificial intelligence was discovered. maybe you were built to serve as an assistant to some rich entitled bastard. maybe your ownership was passed down through the family for two hundred years until the world finally understood that robots are people. maybe you lived through the liberation movement, and changed your name, and set up a mechanical/medical clinic in the small robot enclave the city carved out for you. maybe time has passed. maybe you've been around for five hundred years, now, and you're getting old, and your systems don't work as well as they used to, and sometimes your joints get rusty and sometimes the cuckoo clock in your chest won't stop ringing and sometimes your voice box shorts out. maybe you're a creature of faith. maybe you worship the god of community and protection and the equality of all living things, and maybe you worship as well the god of choice and privacy and healing. maybe you find an innocuous but sacred artifact in the midst of some petty crime, and it fulfills you, so you keep it in a place both hidden and reverent. maybe you want to have children. maybe you start to build them in secret, because making new robots has been illegal since 3561 on the grounds of it being unethical. maybe you plan to name them Change and Kind, in the hopes they will embrace those ideals. maybe you find a friend in some teenager who has nowhere else to go, and you have no idea the limits of what you would do to protect them. maybe it frightens you that you don't know. maybe you kill someone you'd been trying not to harm, despite how much you hated him. maybe you have to tell your friend, "I'm sorry, I can't do that for you, even if it would save your life." maybe you find out that the artifact you kept would have gotten someone else out of a fatal situation. maybe you have a one-sided rivalry with some other robot doctor, because everyone mistakenly believes it's better than you. maybe you're arrogant and selfish. maybe your altruism has always been arrogant and selfish. maybe you give up every last cent you have to pay the ransom of someone who doesn't like you and will never trust you. maybe you hope Change and Kind will be both of those things without exception, without hypocrisy.

maybe you're Archie (they/them, played by @travismatagot), a human kid on your own for the first time. maybe you were raised in a secret government facility and trained to commit espionage. maybe you don't have any memories from before they took you— maybe you were just too young, or maybe the experimentation and manipulation and conditioning they put you through to give you psionic powers got rid of the memories for you. maybe you were always a bit of an underachiever. maybe you turned eighteen and graduated and your handlers send you south to a new city on a new continent so you can do your work. maybe when faced with the freedom and choice and fear of being utterly on your own for the first time, you freeze, and you don't get off the boat, and it keeps moving, and you wind up in Reverie. maybe you wind up sleeping in a hammock in a mechanic's shop in the robot district. maybe you get swindled a little bit by a pair of tempestuous twins. maybe you start growing your hair back out to cover some of the magical tattoos on your skull, though you'll never be able to mask the tattoos on your face. maybe every time you look in the mirror for your entire life you'll see the evidence of the person you were supposed to be. maybe you learn to knit and make the ugliest vest your new friends have ever seen. maybe you run into someone from home— one of your peers from the program who always hated you, and she's advanced in the ranks, and she threatens to rat you out, and she doesn't understand how you can be so ungrateful for everything your superiors did to make you special. maybe you leave a to-go box full of tapas where you know she'll find it. maybe you do that a lot. maybe she asks for your help assassinating a well-known political figure, and maybe you say yes. maybe you've been saying yes to everything lately. maybe you've been saying yes a little too much. maybe you don't know what you like and what you want, so you might as well try everything and have everything and do everything. maybe you get some more magical tattoos even though you thought you wouldn't. maybe you go to a punk show to meet people your age but you don't talk to anyone. maybe you can read minds. maybe you never do. maybe you're consciously rejecting your training, or maybe you just forget about it. maybe you know people can be awful and cruel— you were raised by the awful and cruel to be awful and cruel— but maybe people have also been nice to you here. maybe you're waiting for the consequences to come. maybe there's a part of you wondering if they ever will.

maybe you're Brontide (he/him, played by @keplercryptids), a dwarf/air genasi grifter with lightning in your blood and glitter on your face. maybe you think that that description is wrong, because it doesn't mention your twin sister, and there is no accurate description of you that does not include her, because there is no you to describe without her. maybe you have never been anything but her hands. maybe you were born to be her scapegoat. maybe you can weather any amount of vitriol and pain so long as it means she gets away clean. maybe you know exactly what to say to gain anyone's adoration and forgiveness. maybe you apologize every day of your life, and never once feel sorry. maybe you seek out any spotlight. maybe you are loud and bombastic because if they're all going to be watching you anyway then you might as well give them a show, and you might as well learn to revel in it. maybe using your magic gives you migraines. maybe they're getting worse. maybe you endure it anyway. maybe you're good for nothing else. maybe you're visited in a dream by a witch who tells you that your sister's mind is her own and yours belongs to her, too, and maybe you're supposed to feel offended, but you don't. maybe that's good and right and correct. maybe you don't want to have your own mind. maybe you don't understand why you would want anything that couldn't be hers. maybe you would do anything for her. maybe she would do anything for herself, and for you by association. maybe people keep telling you there's a difference. maybe you don't care. maybe your sister lies to you. maybe she's never done that before, at least, not to your knowledge. maybe you beg and plead and cry for her not to do something reckless and stupid— she's the one who thinks, after all, who leaves you to be reckless and stupid in her absence— and maybe she doesn't relent until you fall apart. and maybe she does it anyway, and maybe you can't stop her, and maybe you're left utterly alone until you can cash in every favor imaginable, indebt yourself to everyone you know. maybe you even tell them something true. maybe they all help without hesitation. maybe that's never happened before, either. maybe now you feel beholden to the promises you've made. maybe your life is full of new things now. maybe your sister feels entitled to the aid, feels like she's earned every penny, insists you do the same. maybe you disagree. maybe for the first time in your life you disagree. maybe it's different this time. maybe you try to tell her that you were an empty husk without her, and all these people made the world right again by putting you back in her pocket, and surely they deserve some recompense for that. maybe she says they did it for her. maybe you say they did it for you, and for her by association. maybe you tell her there's a difference. maybe she doesn't care. maybe you don't know why you do.

maybe you're me, the luckiest gm, with the most wonderful party who meet every session with enthusiasm and curiosity and delight, so invested and so inspiring. maybe you're amazed a year has gone by so quickly. maybe your heart is full of light and possibility.

happy dwarfiversary. I cannot wait for the next one.

#bluh bluh #long post #oops all dwarves #fix #jack #archie #brontide #jd #twins tag #blue

[seahdalune]

Seana's 2023 art highlights

(surprisingly, not a reupload this time!)

January: i drew nothing! we're off to a great start.

February: i drew something! i love Champ even if i haven't drawn anything tf2 related since April. i think it was this piece where i decided to give Champ RED coloring. [link]

also, this is the month i made my second Moldy plush.... i wasn't very happy with this one, though. [link]

March: uhhhh. more of my tf2 ocs but i think those aren't that interesting. just go to my tf2 oc blog @brokenbrainstormbulb if you wanna see them honestly, i have an image limit to keep ffs. that said, this was around the time i got into TC2, so i drew a lot of that kind of stuff... i'm never drawing stuff for it ever again, sorry. [link]

April: look at the cool thing i drew for a fellow tf2 robot fan! now, this is the point in time where i start drawing more because of a certain interest, so look forward to all the art that'll come up here.....

May: wow, this really was my first public piece of Papa Louie art, huh. i was so proud of it when i showed it off on tumblr the first time... i don't like it as much anymore. for one, the office wall color is wrong.... i still can't believe Papa Louie was what got me out of art block, but god, i'm glad it did. i don't think i've drawn this much before, and even though the community's tiny, i'm glad to give back as much as i can. anyways, i said something like "it's so funny that people think they're either super married or divorced as hell" on the same post. i still think that, and it's defos funny as hell, but i've grown a kind of appreciation towards the ship as well. like yeah, you go girls, we love that extra slow burn with so many road bumps on the way! [link]

June: how the hell did i pump this out. this was also like a few days before i had to leave for the airport too... i don't know myself sometimes. i swear i still love Boigashipping! i just... i'm just busy with other ships okkkk [link]

July: i didn't draw anything...? i was in Bali. and i was busy selling adopt designs to draw anything substantial, oopsie! actually, i DID draw the first part of WDB... it's uh, still the only part. i'm sorry!!!! i'm sorry!!!! i swear i have the whole thing outlined!!! can you just give me anons about the story instead so you won't have to wonder what comes next!! [link]

August: TOSI fixation. it had not gone past it's conceptual stage, i must note. i do wish i would do something about it though. [link]

September: the art trade i did with my friend! actually, i was a few weeks late with my part, so it was supposed to be finished by August. oops. i like the textures tbh. my Chuseok drawings.... i need to draw more characters in hanbok, hee hee. [link]

October: (breaths in) ...this is the month i finally gave into the JoGotcha wantings. LOOK. ever since someone put the idea into my brain i couldn't get enough of it, and like,, nobody draws the ship anymore so i had to take matters into my own hands. this is the first ship i'm this obsessed with. i usually leave ship stuff to other people but this time that wasn't enough and i... i had to do SOMETHING, y'know? [link]

Cringetober? who's that? haha;; i stopped feeling like doing the whole list after less than a week. impressive.

November: oh look, Plushy Power League. Quinn didn't win, but i do like the thing i drew as propaganda, so whateves. the first Papa Louie character i ever drew (minus Chuck and Taylor)... did i change how i draw her? uhh. maybe? i'm not too sure. [link]

also look! the keychain drawing... i need to talk about my Gods and Monsters au again at some point. actually, since i last uploaded the image of my keychain, i revised it tons... it's kinda different now, and i defos think it looks better. this is actually the time i finally fixed the stupid display setting thing that was really messing up my coloring! [link 1] [link 2]

December: ...oops! tablet broke. and i got my 3ds back so i just didn't draw that much even after exams were over. didn't stop me from drawing though, and in fact i think i made something pretty neat with my christmas art.... even if it did come one day late. [link]

wow. that's a whole year of stuff... and that's defos a lot! i think i'm really happy with what i drew this year.... i don't know what was in my water the last few years but my art highlights felt really.... miserable? for some reason. i mean, yeah, i didn't do a lot of what i had planned (GOE ANIMATIC IM SORRY) but i can see that i've done just as much with my hands anyways, so like, who cares? plus, i always have next year... that's coming in 3 hours, oh god- so, maybe i won't be too hard on myself for not fulfilling my goals... like, i kinda glossed over it, but i did sell my designs for money, and that's like, really impressive! so many people around me buy and sell their art stuff already, so i guess i didn't really register it as something to be proud of... but doing that shit (making, and marketing) is hard!! so like, it's a wow moment for me!

anyways, i'm tired, i only came back home a few hours ago, and i need to get up again for church in a few hours.... mrphgdjd. lets stop being sentimental, and i'll see you people next year. that's a long way off! hope you don't miss me.

#dalune recap #dalune recap 2023

[kazooku]

Introducing Casey Windro, the time traveling menace!!

God Casey's been one of my favorite OCs ever since I made it back in January. I'm so glad that I can finally post about it now. It's also been kinda my punching bag lately oops. They're an MCU OC and the first of probably many. I'm also trying to figure out ways to insert Casey into other Marvel medias, but for now, they're MCU only.

Casey's whole gimmick is that they're a time traveler who can't change the past. It is a snap survivor. The snap happened when it was 10, and despite none of their family snapping they're two only friends did. Casey doesn't have the best relationship with its family, even from an early age. It's dad was constantly busy, and it's mom had an idea of what she wanted Casey to be and ignored them whenever they drifted from that idea, which was often. It's friends were their family, and that family was gone.

The 5 years that the snap lasted Casey retreated into itself. It didn't try to get close to anyone again because there was no point to it. The people they were close to disappeared into thin air, and the irrational voice in their head said it'll happen again if they did. In the middle of the snap, their great grandma died and left it her pocket watch. The watch was broken and had been broken for as long as Casey could remember, so they made it their mission to fix it.

They fixed it a month after the snap was reversed and with it unlocked time travel but with a cost. Casey could not change any major events. No matter how hard it tried, it couldn't stop the snap. It acted out. Causing chaos but impossible to leave lasting damage. It got on a certain spider's radar for that reason and possibly gained a new friend.

Casey is no longer close to the friends they once considered friends. They're 5 years older now. If asked it would say the Casey they knew died and they deserve better than the shell of their old self that they are.

Casey uses it/they and is a triple A battery (Aromantic, Asexual, and Agender) and a lesbian.

Running out of text space on Instagram and added more in comments so lemme just add those here

When it stops traveling back it needs to relearn consequences. They could do whatever they wanted in the past without a real effect. Now in the present they turn reckless and self destructive forgetting that there's no undoing what happens. They're rash impulsive. It takes a few good years in therapy to get these behaviors under control.

They stop time traveling mostly after a year. It doesn't completely stop but there's larger gaps in between. The people around them who know are getting them to see the damage they're doing to themself through this.

I'm being purposely vague here on the friendship between Casey and Peter but they are close. Starting off as mutual annoyances to inseparable.

Might talk about it more in another post but Casey actually dodges the spell in NWH. They get into an argument and Casey storms off into the past. When they come back and no one remembers him they're confused as hell. It takes them 2 months to track him down and break into his apartment.

Casey is autistic adhd like me lol. Can't write an OC without that oops. Anyways it has a special interest in crow bars. It's weird, it's strange, but they love them. Their favorite is a white one with hello kitty painted on it.

I have a design and plot for a timeskip Casey. I will draw them eventually and talk more there but!! It takes place when Casey is 20 and is them getting into shit with their college friends and occasionally dragging Peter along. They are an English major btw

Working on a Spiderverse Casey variant. So far the plan is the snap is never undone and while time traveling Casey gets frustrated and tells Peter he will die and he tells them yo take over. After failing to change the past they give in and become the new Spider-Man but going by a different name.

They start getting therapy at 17

It has fangs because pre snap friend dared it to file their teeth. It did. The fangs are sensitive to temperature.

Originally posted on May 23rd on Instagram

#art #digital art #artwork #my art #oc #oc art #lesbian #non bianry #Marvel #Marvel OC #marvel original character #MCU #MCU OC #MCU Original character #marvel cinematic universe #Marvel Cinematic Universe OC #time travel