#just posting this so I can see it on the worst days

[jayke0]

And They Were Roommates

Summary: You catch your roommate, Marc, having some private time, and it's only when he comes at the sight of you that something inside you is released.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: Friends to lovers? Male masturbation, fluffy/soft sex, Marc being insecure at first cuz he hasn't had his chode ridden in a while, some nipple play (f receiving), protected sex (pill), mention of female masturbation, p in v, breeding if you squint, creampie, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 2,275

A/N: Uhmmmm so i accidentally posted this too early, so if you see it please reblog so it reaches others! Thankyouuuu

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

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Marc Spector had always found himself to be a very private man. You're lucky to have even gotten a glimpse at his phone that one time, given how precisely he guards what little personal belongings he has and hides his emotions behind a stone-cold glare.

That's why he always waits for you to go out before he touches himself.

He'd gotten into the habit of it after realizing the wall dividing your bedrooms is so paper thin that he could hear every word the character was saying on whatever show you'd been watching at the time.

The anticipation; the waiting was always the worst. You'd take your sweet sweet time getting ready and checking your shopping list, only to forget something and come back 2 minutes later; luckily, he'd gotten used to that part too. Though, as much as he pretended he hated it, he actually found it quite endearing; a little quirk of yours that made you so fucking adorable to him.

“I'll be back in an hour!” Marc hears your voice echo through the hall, simply responding with a grunt that was somewhere along the lines of ‘alright’. He hears that first front door slam and waits a couple of minutes, before excitedly scrambling to his bedroom, cock already twitching at the prospect of release.

He'd had a particularly hard few days (pun intended), and with you deciding you didn't want to venture out, he was left to let his mind wander, only to blueball-ball himself in the process.

He's quick to grab his earphones and settle down comfortably in his bed, pulling his t-shirt off swiftly and practically ripping his jeans off. It doesn't take long before he's got his cock in hand, fisting his throbbing length harshly as girly moans fill his ears and do wonders for his imagination.

Oh, how he tries not to think about you. He knows It's creepy, and he knows that if you found out you'd probably kick him out with nothing but the clothes on his back, but it's so hard. His thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the beads of precum and spreading it over himself.

You're always so perfect, so gorgeous. The sun always seems to land on your face beautifully and illuminate each of your features. He twists his hand expertly and pulls a string of breathy gasps from his chest as he squeezes the tip.

The way you walk through the living room in just a towel, dripping wet; it's almost like you're tempting him.

He's now frantically thrusting into his hand at the image in his mind, low moans and growls escaping through his gritted teeth as his head tilts back and the tendons in his neck bulge at the stretch. That coil is tightening faster that he can control, his brain foggy with thoughts of you, just you you you. The thoughts are so close that he swears he can hear you calling his name, begging him to ruin your cunt and fill you u–.

A cold feeling runs through his body as his head shoots up, his eyes meeting your shocked gaze. Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what he needed as he's sent tumbling over the edge. Hot white ropes spill from his ruddy tip and splatter across his toned chest, huffed moans and curses falling from his lips as he fucks his hand through his orgasm.

It's only when he finally opens his eyes again that the guilt hits him and he scrambles to pull his boxers back up, trying to put his still throbbing cock away.

“Fuck, I'm so sorry, didn't realise you were there! I- I had my headphones in–.” He pulls them out, trying to wipe the evidence of his sins off of his chest, but your soft hand stops him; yes, you had gotten closer.

You watch as his dark eyes trail up your arm to your face, a cocktail of dread, fear, and… something else, all brewing in his gaze; it makes you want him even more.

“I'm not mad, Marc.”

“Creeped out, then?...”

Your thumb runs over his knuckles, feeling how warm and soft his hands are. “No. I mean, I probably should be, but fuck,” your eyes are drawn to his twitching length fighting against the restraints of his tight boxers. Carefully, you crawl onto the bed, straddling his legs far enough away from his body so he can push you off if he's uncomfortable.

You inch closer to him, “ ‘s this ok?” Hands either side of his thighs, your words are soft and breathy, your eyes gazing at him with a look that is sickeningly sweet.

It makes his head wurl, a tight feeling constricting in his chest as the prettiest girl in the world sits virtually in his lap. “Yes–” his voice breaks, making you chuckle softly. “Yeah, it's more than ok.” His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, and you feel it as you place your hands on his chest to shuffle closer to him.

“You looked so handsome like that, Marc.” You compliment with a smile, leaning in to brush your lips across his and feel him take in a sharp breath. He catches your lips and pecks them with adoration, letting a longer kiss linger on them as you press closer to him still. After a few seconds, he moves his hands to rest on your waist, one running up your back to cup the back of your head as he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth, and you happily oblige.

Months worth of feelings are poured into the kiss, both of you slowly and softly lapping and sucking at each other's lips before you dissolve into panting messes, biting and licking fiercely as if trying to eat each other whole.

“God damn, Spector, you're a great kisser,” you giggle softly, pulling from his lips to appreciate the shiny and red mess you'd made of him. A familiar growl rumbles in his chest, one that you'd learnt was an appreciative noise rather than something to be put off by.

“You can talk, y'know. You're not gonna scare me off.”

Briefly, you see insecurity paint across his face. It's something that you'd never seen before, a small crack in the otherwise solid structure of his frigid expression. On instinct, you brush his curls from his forehead and cup his cheeks, “I trust you, Marc, it's ok. I'm not here to judge you.”

His shoulders seem to relax as he nods a little, “I'm sorry. I don't do this often, if you hadn't noticed.”

You laugh softly and pat his chest, “that's ok, neither do I,” you smile as you sit back on your heels and pull your t-shirt off over your head. You take his hands gently and place them on your breasts, “none of them were you.”

You swear that you see him change in that moment, your words sinking in and his eyes turning hungry. His thumbs run over your hardening nipples as he surges forwards to seize you in another burning kiss that has you hot and breathless this time.

“Jesus, Marc…” a soft whine is pulled from your lips as he glides his lips down and over your neck, focusing on the pulse point below your jaw by nibbling and sucking softly. He's surprisingly quick at unclasping your bra, and he pulls away a little to admire your body.

“Shit, you're gorgeous,” he mumbles, thumbs running underneath your boobs before they work up and run across your nipples, making a gasp get caught in your throat. “You always have been gorgeous. I always look at you and think ‘fuck how doesn't she have a boyfriend yet?’”

“ ‘Cause I've been waiting to fuck my roommate…” You chuckle softly, feeling him chuckle too as his head dips to your chest and he takes your nipple into his mouth, tongue sliding over and swirling around the hard bud in a way that leaves you grinding against his thigh. Suddenly, your jeans feel so restricting, like they're choking you, stopping you from appreciating any pleasure that Marc offers you, which is why you're quick to unbutton them and slip them off… All while your roommate sucks on your tits.

“God. Do you know how many times I've touched myself hoping you’d catch me?” Your words are breathless as your body rolls against his mouth and a pleased noise from the man reverberates over your nipple. “Left my door open just a crack in hopes my moans would grab your attention, and you'd come and fuck me right…”

He audibly groans at that, pulling away to look at you again while his hands travel to your waistband.

”You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear that.”

He hungrily pulls your underwear down your thighs and off with his own following soon after, leaving you both naked and messily grinding against each other as you're caught up in yet another kiss.

You glance down eventually, being treated with the glorious sight of his thick cock throbbing and spilling pre-cum… Or maybe it's cum from his previous orgasm, either way it makes you clench your toes.

“It's bigger when I'm this close,” a nervous chuckle leaves your lips.

“I know, I know. That's also why I don't fuck much.” He laughs breathily and grips his length at the base, running it between your sopping folds and circling your clit perfectly. You grind down on his tip with a moan and pant.

“We don't have too, if you don't want to.” He reminds softly, pressing a few more kisses on your jaw, but you're quick to shake your head and grip his shoulders, “I need you inside me, Marc. Needed it since the day i fucking met you.”

You certainly don't have to tell him twice.

He's sinking inside you before you can even process his tip probing your hole. It's such a delicious stretch, one that spreads throughout your body and along your nerves. You sink down on him further, wanting to sheath him inside you whole.

You'd like to think that Marc knows you're on birth control, given the endless packets and the way you often rant to him about the imperfections of the drug. You're hoping he knows this, because you're hoping he cums inside you.

“Fucking hell Marc, shit…” You pant softly and look down between your bodies, your hands holding onto his shoulders As he grips your waist and guides you; down down down till you're sat in his lap.

You feel so full like that, and honestly you could probably just roll your hips and cum right there, but it's not long before your roommate is lifting you off of himself just to impale you once again. A rush of pleasure runs through your veins and makes your cunt clench around the girth, both of you groaning as you capture his lips again.

“Dammit… you're lucky you're hot, or I would've kicked you out–ah- for being a creep–”

“You were the one watching me stroke my fucking cock. You liked it deep down.” The man growls on your lips, making a whimper rise in your throat as you nod a little, dumbly. His breath is hot on your lips, each of your moans being swallowed by laboured gasps from the other as his hips rock up.

Although the pace isn't fast, you already feel wrecked. The stretch is so fucking good, and the way he hits your sweet spot everytime has you weak at the knees for this man, your groans turning into gasps and drawn out moans.

“M-arc, honey, I'm not gonna last much longer…” You whine pathetically, but this only makes him move faster, now bringing you down on his cock as he thrusts up harshly and sends waves of pleasure through you as he does so. “That's it, baby. Wanna feel you cum All over my cock; cum all over your roommate's cock… shit, you're so filthy, sweetheart.”

His words have your nails digging into his shoulders, your thighs burning as they finally give up and you let Marc use you, use your cunt for his own damn pleasure. The whole idea has you arching your back, and finally, with your shaky fingers circling your clit, you go crashing over that edge. Your thighs instantly clench together as whorish moans are pulled from your lungs and fill the room, ecstasy washing over you in waves and taking you to a place that you didn't even know existed, not until Marc.

Your clenching cunt is what finishes Marc off, that and the beautiful sounds you make as you come. Your walls milk him dry, taking every drop from him and more as he fills your cunt with that delicious warmth.

You sink back down on him finally and practically collapse into his chest, your arms wrapping around His torso tightly as you try and catch your breath.

The warmth that spreads through Marc's heart in that moment is almost unbearable. It's a feeling he's wanted for a long time, one that he doesn't even know how long will last, but he's sure as hell is not gonna waste it worrying.

You feel his large arms wrap around you tightly, a kiss placed on your shoulder, and then his warm breath sending goosebumps over the back of your neck as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Never took you as a cuddler, Marc Spector.” You mumble softly into his chest, listening to the rhythmic thump of his heart as it slows to a comforting pace.

“I'm full of surprises, sweetheart.”

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Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cupidysm @clemdango04 @flowercrownonapegion @spxctorsslxt

#moon knight #moon knight system #moon boys #moon knight smut #marc spector #marc spector smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[callsign-mayhem]

heartbreak feels so good (part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too. 

He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.

And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him. 

Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly. 

Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.

‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’

It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.

‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’ 

It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious. 

Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.

You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification. 

‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow. 

You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly. 

‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’

Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’

This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then. 

He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away. 

‘Hey, Bradley.’ ���Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted.  ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’  ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.

Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.

Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac. 

Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone. 

‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’  ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start.  Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’

Being this transparent was embarrassing. 

‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’

You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.

‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’

Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.

‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’

Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs. 

As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection. 

While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over. 

‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’

Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.

‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’

The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that. 

‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’

You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage. 

‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’  ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’

Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either. 

Bradley needed another drink. 

In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you. 

‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.

His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him. 

‘What’s up, Y/CS?’

Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next. 

‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’

Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed. 

‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’

She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence. 

A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’  Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’  ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’

An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later. 

But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing. 

‘Y/N’s phone.’ 

A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life. 

‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’  ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’

Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse. 

‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’

Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already. 

‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him. 

Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.

Not that you’d want to escape. 

Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.

That’s when it hit you.

You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed. 

‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’

He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.

‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’

A wave of nausea hit you. 

‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’

You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.

‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’

You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad. 

What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.

The worst part was you saw it coming.

‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’

Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

‘Move.’

He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.

‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’

Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.

You called Elijah. 

He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time. 

Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you. 

It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand. 

What a beautiful night to have your heart broken. 

There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to 

convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way. 

You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach. 

You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley. 

He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it. 

‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’

You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders. 

‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’

Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you. 

‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’

He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.

‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly. 

Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point. 

‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’

You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.

In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’ 

Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out. 

Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact. 

You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love. 

Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.

‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’

Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.

‘Apparently not.’

You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed. 

‘This is news to me too.’

The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night. 

‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’

He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it. 

The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way. 

Which was to say, it was a bad morning. 

After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed. 

When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now. 

To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover. 

With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast. 

Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door. 

Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time. 

You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised. 

You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again. 

‘Bradley?’

He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.

‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’

He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he 

perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all. 

‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’

You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee, eyeing

you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly. 

‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly.  ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’ 

Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally. 

‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’ 

While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no. 

‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’

The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.

‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’ 

You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy. 

‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’ 

This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed. 

You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try. 

‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’

You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah. 

When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop. 

‘Thanks for breakfast.’  You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’

Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you. 

But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home. 

‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’

Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave. 

‘I’d love to.’

It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.

Because he really didn’t want to go home. 

He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.

A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.

‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’ 

The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said. 

It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else. 

E<3: always knew you were a slut.

You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text. 

E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.

The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise. 

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’ 

It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.

Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would. 

‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you?  ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’ 

The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions. 

‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.

Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts. 

‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled

So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.

‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’

You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested. 

‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’

You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever. 

‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’

From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him. 

‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time. 

The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it. 

Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly.  He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’ 

He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.

‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’

The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.

‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’

Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.

‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired.  You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’

The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much. 

‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’

Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.

And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart. 

‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.

Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. 

‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’ 

He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything. 

By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly. 

If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears. 

Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly. 

For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day. 

He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them. 

But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.

End of part one.

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfics #top gun imagines #top gun maverick imagines #bradley bradshaw #javy machado #mickey garcia #reuben fitch #natasha trace #jake seresin #pete mitchell #rooster x reader #coyote x reader #fanboy x reader #hangman x reader #payback x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #phoenix x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

04/15/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika; Samson Kayo; Kay Buchanan; Nathan Foad; Watch parties; GLAAD LAST DAYS; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika.

== David Jenkins ==

Okay so I apologize all-- somehow I missed that all the David Jenkins pics going around were NEW. I don't know why but I thought they were from a while back. My taxes brain really has me messed up. So these are from the past 2-4 days. Now it makes a lot of sense too as to why everyone's been honking louder! You can see him there at WB Studios, and yes that is him with OFMD fan-stickers on his laptop.

Source: Kinga Malisz' IG

== Taika Waititi ==

A small glimpse of Taika and his ginormous doe eyes on the set of Klara and The Sun. Src: Vas J Morgan's IG

== Samson Kayo ==

Samson was out in Abu Dhabi U.A.E sporting his Prada Sun Glasses! Chaos Dad and Samba happened to pop into his comments as well! Thanks @ashes-skye for pointing out these great photos! SRC: Samson's Instagram

== Kay Buchanan ==

Our lovely leatherworker Kay Buchanan posted lots of cool things today on her instagram! Stede's Dagger Sheath

Next up was the Gunpowder Pouches for OFMD

== Nathan Foad ==

Some first shots of Nathan in his role in #LovesLabourLost! Src: Royal Shakespeare Company IG

== Watch Party Reminders! ==

== Flight Of the Conchords ==

Season 1 is done! Season 2 starts tomorrow with Episodes 1 and 2! Join Save OFMD Crew, and @/ iamadequate1 this week for Flight of the Conchords watch parties! You can watch each day at 4pm PT, 7 pm ET, 11pm BST! If you don't have access, feel free to join us on the #RhysDarbyFaction Discord server, you can hit me up for an invite.

Hashtags:

#FlagOfTheConchords

#OurFlagMeansDeath

== LAST CHANCE FOR GLAAD ==

Voting closes in two days, get your votes in while you can! Remember: you can vote more than once. 😉🏴‍☠️

IMG Src: @saveofmdcrewmates

== Fan Spotlight ==

One of our crewmates @/RabinaryCode on youtube has put together this cute Queen Parody for Rhys! Give it a listen if you have some time :) Vocals: @ferventrabbitao3

Lyrics: @tanteclem

== Cast Cards ==

To quote @melvisik "Tonight is Ian Alda (yup, related to Alan Alda) playing the clerk... reads notes Clark Clerkwell... person who told Stede he's dead "

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. I hope you all are having a fresh start to your week. I've heard good news and rough news, so I truly hope if you have good news, it stays that way and if you have bad news, it looks up for you!

I really am so glad to see people clowning though. I know no one wants to get their hopes up, but it's nice to see that kind of energy flowing through the fandom again. We deserve a little treat of hope once in a while and it warms my heart how much people are running with it.

Hope is the dream lovelies. All things spring from hope. Don't give up on it. Even when things feel the worst, hope is what keeps us going. I have so much love for you friends. I know we have our bad days, but I hope you know that no matter what happens me and the crew will send you love. We love sharing this space with you. Rest well lovelies. Some quotes about hope tonight:

"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience." - Emily Dickinson

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." - Eleanor Roosevelt

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Sorry, tonight's theme is just... this interview because every time I see it it makes me smile so horrendously huge. I love them so much and certainly together like this. The goofy bastards. Gif Courtesy of @captain-flint

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd daily recap #our flag means death #ofmd #rhys darby #taika waititi #david jenkins #chaos dad #samson kayo #ofmd bts #kay buchanan #nathan foad #watch parties

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Ayo can we get a hot ass "keep my wife's name out your goddamn mouth" Kathy x John

Kathy does routine physical exams obviously and in the showers Price overhears some locker room talking about his wife, how they'd like those hands to go further, like how she bosses them around etc.

Cue him rounding the corner to give them a solid punch and "Don't you dare utter my wife's name again"

Up to you if she rewards him ☺️

yes you fucking can!!!!

That's My Wife!

pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price words: 1.5K~ cw: jealousy, protectiveness, arguments, violence, injuries (mentioned), misogyny, sexually-charged comments, "locker room talk", smutless smut.

The worst time of the year for the army medical staff at Tidworth is September. Oh, how the nurses and doctors hate the month of September during which, for two weeks straight, they see nothing but soldier after soldier for health checks and physical exams to confirm that they’re fit for service.

It’s, unfortunately, repetitive, mind-numbing and time-consuming. It’s also, unfortunately, a whole hands on deck situation. So, everyone who’s not actively doing something else, gets called in to help process the soldiers.

That’s how Kathleen ends up, every year, in the clinic, helping physicians assess the soldiers. Her jobs tend to be easy. More of the same that she tends to already do: measuring heights and weights, calculating their BMI and body fat percentages, using the stethoscope to listen to their heartbeat and breathing, manning the blood pressure gauge…

And, of course, the most interesting stuff. Conducting stress tests and having to strap all sorts of machines and sensors to the soldiers and monitor how they perform as they run on a treadmill, as well as doing physical checks on old injuries, scars…

In short, she spends a long time in front of shirtless men… and even longer touching their chests, arms, backs, and sometimes their legs, to check for injuries, which often ends with her crouching or kneeling at their feet.

And, of course, the stupid soldiers can’t keep their mouths shut. More often than not they make a few remarks about taking her out later, about coming to see her more often, of being lucky they get her for their checks…

It’s a nightmare. Kathleen hates it. In fact, she wishes she wasn’t tasked with that every year… But the choice is her or risking one of the pretty new interns having to do it, girls who haven’t yet developed the thick skin she has, and would likely giggle and get flustered at the lads behaviour… instead of calling them out on it or just downright ignoring them.

September, as it turns out, is also a nightmare for John. But he only figured that out today.

After his Bravo team finished training for the morning, John allowed them to hit the showers and he stayed behind to finish some work and talk with Soap.

As they enter the locker room, the rest of Bravo team is already in the communal showers, talking loudly amidst themselves and laughing, their voices echoing amidst the spraying of the showers over them.

John pops open his locker and starts shedding his workout kit, tossing it into his bag on the shelf. Soap isn’t far from him, a few lockers up, in the adjacent wall, his locker door having his name ‘MACTAVISH’ inside the clear plastic name tag holder, with a post-it naming him ‘F.N.G’ scotch taped below it.

John doesn’t need to pay much attention to know they’re talking about women, especially, the nurses from the nearby Tidworth base. All of them had gone through their check-ups in the last couple of days and, as is typical, they couldn’t keep their traps shut about the pretty women with soft hands doting all over them.

“Oh, mine bent over and pushed those tits of hers right up to my knee.” One of them said.

“Lucky bastard. I got a bloke.” Another replied.

Oh, how many times John had told them to be quiet and keep those sorts of talks to themselves when they were at the barracks, and not in public… But did those knobheads listen? No, never.

John grabbed his towel and 2-in-1 shampoo and bodywash and headed into the showers, taking up one of the vacant spots and drawing the curtain after hanging the curtain just outside his stall.

“I swear she was giving me the look… Definitely wants a piece of me.”

“No bird would want a piece of yer ugly mug.”

The lads continued talking as he let the water run over his body and began quickly lathering himself up with his 2-in-1, washing his hair and face aggressively before running his head under the falling shower water.

“I’m not devout, but this new batch’a nurses they got this year makes me a believer.”

“That’s right, brother.”

One-by-one they started vacating their stalls, still chatting loudly about their check-ups and the young women that treated them, lounging about the locker room and making each other laugh.

“But that arse of hers… I just know she’d bounce so well on my cock-”

“Oh that’s nothing. You didn’t see her last year before they changed the colour of the scrubs… That blue colour just… mmmmm…”

John finishes his shower not long after, wrapping his grey towel around his hip and tying it up to stay still. Then, he collects his 2-in-1 bottle from its perch atop the metal piping of the shower and starts making his way back.

That’s when he hears it:

“It’s no wonder the Captain’s peacockin’ himself around like that… I mean have you seen the size of her tits?”

John’s blood runs cold. They wouldn’t fucking dare. They wouldn’t talk about Kathleen. 

No. 

Not they. 

Him.

Sergeant Ellis Evans. 

One he’s always had problems reining in.

“Captain’s lucky is all I’ll say… Body like hers… Hell, even I’d forgive that bloody attitude of hers.”

The others laughed as Evans continued.

“I mean, I’m sure Kathleen’s mouth’s good for more than just talking… Gotta be good on her knees.. They call her ‘Brass’ for a reason, right? Bet she leaves ‘em with a nice polish and shine once she’s done.” 

That did it.

John rounded the corner into the locker room and, abruptly, the room fell into silence, breaths hitching and the temperature dropping into an uncomfortable ice.

But John didn’t stop walking at the doorway… In fact, he beelined right for Evans.

“Captain, I-” Evans immediately tried backtracking. “We were just joking, we were just-”

“Keep my wife’s name out your bloody mouth.” John grits at him through clenched teeth before he throws a right cross to Evans’ face.

-

It’s just past 7P.M. when Kathleen comes in through the front door. John has made dinner for them and little Charlotte is already asleep in her crib by the time she does.

She sets her bag down in the entrance, takes off her shoes, and pads over to the kitchen in search of John.

“Hi…” She greets him softly as she approaches the table, causing him to swivel on his chair to greet her, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

She presses a kiss to his mouth, which he returns. “Hi, Da’lin’.” He murmurs to her once they separate.

“Is she down?” She asks in a soft tone as she looks at him.

“Mhm… Full belly and empty diaper.” He tells her, which makes her smile softly, seeming relieved.

Kathleen feels exhausted, as usual, still not used to the work-life balance that comes from having a 4-month-old baby who doesn’t like to sleep + and a physically demanding job that runs on a 12-hour-shift schedule. 

John swivels back to his previous position, nursing a glass of whiskey with his left hand, the right one resting on the table, the knuckles covered by a blue gel ice pack.

“So that’s what happened...” Kathleen muses as she glances at his iced hand, before backing away to grab herself a plate of food from the cupboard.

“What is?” John murmurs as he glances at her, watching her serve herself of some frozen lasagna and salad.

“One of your lads ended up in my emergency room after some ‘roughhousing gone wrong in the locker room’... I was musing about what he did all afternoon.” She quips as she pads over to the table again again.

“Hm.” John mutters quietly, seemingly a mix of embarassed and annoyed at that fact.

“So what did he do?” She asks as she takes a seat on his lap, perched on his lap, as she pops a cherry tomato in her mouth.

“Talked about you.” John murmurs, wrapping his free arm around her waist. “Only I get to say debauching things about My Wife.” He grumbles as he looks up into her eyes.

Kathleen rolls her eyes at him and shakes her head, but she can’t help the smirk that takes over her rudy lips as he calls her ‘his wife’. “My, Mr. Price, defending my honour, huh?” She jokes as she pops a bit of lettuce in her mouth.

“Defending my honour… and yours by proxy. Just an unforeseen consequence of it.” He tells her, trying to act nonchalant about the fact he broke a man’s nose, eyesocket and three of his ribs, for demeaning his wife.

“Right… Of course… How stupid of me…” Kathleen teases as she leans toward him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, which makes his blue eyes close, a smile taking over his features. 

“As opposed to… what exactly? There isn’t much up there other than thoughts of my cock, da’lin’.” John remarks, causing her to roll her eyes, annoyed, and flick his head away from her by pushing his cheek, annoyed.

“I can very well just stop thinking about it all together… And I’m sure you wouldn’t want that when I was just about to reward you for defending me…” Kathleen teases as she pops another cherry tomato in her mouth, eyes locked on John and the way his pupils dilated, his cock already stirring awake in his joggers against her ass in her green scrubs.

#ikea writes 💚 #tw violence #tw misogyny #tw injury #cod x reader #cod fanfic #masterlist #call of duty #cod fandom #cod oc #oc: kathleen “brass” price #price x kathleen #john price x oc

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

First Date..? - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: Gepard, after becoming ill to the point of passing out, asked you to go on a tour of the Belobog History and Culture Museum with him. Today is that day!

▸ Genre(s): fluff, a sprinkling of angst

▸ Word Count: 5.5k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions, mentions of domestic abuse

A/N: MY LAST POST SHOWED IN THE TAGS!!!! It brought a ton of new people in <3 hello gepard fans, this is a part of my series! You can find more in the masterlist. (Or don’t. I try to make it so you can start wherever.)

the dividers are being stupid but i decided to keep them

MASTERLIST

Gepard, the heir to the Landau name and a sworn Silvermane Guard, wasn’t sure if he had ever felt this nervous in his life.

From his first interview as a cadet to the ceremony promoting him to the position of “Captain,” his heart had never beat as loudly as it did that day. It sent tremors through his chest that traveled all the way to his throat.

He stood resting an arm on the counter of the Neverwinter Workshop reception desk, paying no mind to his sister as she milled about, rummaging through drawers of tools and combing through filing cabinets.

A heavy sigh escaped the captain’s lips as he tapped his fingers apprehensively. All he could focus on was the antique clock on the wall taunting him as it tick, tick, ticked away. Closer and closer to the time he’d be meeting you.

Serval’s voice drew him out of the thoughts weighing his mind down.

“Earthwork should be good to go,” she said, hoisting the shield device slash guitar case onto the counter with a thump.

The bronze safety goggles resting precariously on the top of her head tumbled to the floor. Those would definitely cost a pretty penny.

“Let me know if the shield deployment acts up again, alright?”

Gepard took the procedural report from her and nodded. “You have my gratitude once again, sister. The guards should send you an invoice soon,”

Suddenly, the bell in the central plaza rang. Its sound sent shivers down his spine, which he tried to shake off by glancing absentmindedly out the window. This did not go unnoticed by his sister.

“You seem a little antsy today, Geppie. What’s messing with your rhythm?”

“Ah?” Gepard responded while tucking the yellow slip of paper into his pocket. “I merely have a few affairs that need attending to. The concern is appreciated, though,”

He straightened his collar, averting his eyes. She stared at him incredulously at this pathetically conspicuous act.

“You know?” she snorted. “You are possibly one of the worst liars on Jarilo-VI,”

She dropped her wrench on the desk carelessly, and he stiffened immediately.

“You never act this distant when it comes to affairs. In fact, most of the time you’re pretty quick to pass them off to me!” Serval shook a finger at him. “I’ve had my fair share of headaches, so you better fess up right now, little brother,” she hissed.

She stomped around the counter over the unfortunate pair of goggles and leaned in a good five or so inches away from his face. Gepard mustered all the will in his body to keep his lips straight and his facade up. “Ah— um,”

“Does this, in any way, shape or form, have to do with (Y/N)?” she barked.

“N-no, I…” His eyes flickered for a second at a pot of indigo flowers behind her. Serval, like her namesake, used this as an excuse to pounce.

“It does, doesn’t it? You broke eye contact!” She accused.

“Anyone would, in that situation!” He defended himself, clenching his jaw tightly. “You need to find better methods of interrogating people than that, sister,”

“Excuse you,” Serval snapped. “I’m just curious! We DO share a lot of friends, but (Y/N) is the only one I don’t work with.” She folded her arms.

Gepard ran a hand from his chin all the way to his hair with a groan. The last time they had squabbled like this, he hadn’t yet graduated from cadet school.

He cleared his throat. “That wasn’t what I was thinking about. As for (Y/N), I happen to be seeing them at the museum today. Are you satisfied with this information?”

His sister rolled her eyes at the biting remark and wiped a hand across her brow, smearing motor oil on her forehead. “Yeah. Fine. Don’t bother telling all the juicy details of how that came to be. They’d just be wasted on me!”

Gepard’s shoulders dropped in exasperation as he stared at her. “Why are you so invested in this, sister? You hardly give a single snowflake about my personal life. What changed?”

If looks could kill, Gepard would be six feet under.

“Hey. I’m trying to help you and your hopeless love life!” His sister nearly exploded with frustration. He quickly took a step back.

“Every time you two are in the same room, your face goes pink and you’re completely paralyzed,” she said, exasperated. “At this rate, you’ll grow old before your feelings reach them!”

She stuck a finger in her mouth with a gagging noise. Gepard blushed even harder.

“My feelings have nothing to do with you, sister,” he sputtered while simultaneously going over every single time you’ve happened to be in a room together in his head.

Serval stopped for a moment, her hackles seeming to fall. Her voice dropped an octave. “They do, actually,”

Serval sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“Y’know, Gepard… I’ve seen you go your entire life laying down everything you’ve ever had for Belobog. Isn’t it about time you pursue something— someone, that makes you happy?”

She paused, letting the words linger in his mind. Then she spoke again.

“Y’know, that you love,”

The air between them became thick with silence.

Serval sighed, leaning her back against the counter. Her little brother seemed to lack the words to respond.

“I’ve seen how you light up when you see them. And it hurts me seeing you stamp your feelings down each and every time,”

She searched in his eyes for any sign that her message was reaching him. But she did not find one.

“I’ve told you this before. Love isn’t something you can half-ass. You have to put your all into it—,” she twirled a pen around in her hand to blow off some steam. “—I don’t even care if you don’t want my help. I just want you to feel like you can confide in me, okay?”

She looked back at her brother, who was now staring at the floor, and smiled wistfully.

Well, Belobog wasn’t built in a day, after all.

Serval shrugged. “Anyways. You don’t have to listen to your big sis. I just think you should spend as much time with them before you’re sent away on another campaign.” Her tone became humorous. “Make sure you’re aaa-ll they think about when you’re gone,”

Gepard’s head shot up, his mouth going agape, and he quickly shut it.

“Why would I want to do that??”

“So you two can send each other looong letters about how much you love and miss each other, of course!” Serval chuckled teasingly, sticking her tongue out at her furiously blushing younger brother.

“They— they don’t feel that way about me,” he choked out.

She folded her arms at his defeated tone. “Maybe they don’t, but you two have chemistry!”

She slapped him on the shoulder heartily, which caused him to choke on the breath he was taking. “I can tell they care for you. And since when have Landaus been ones to give up?”

Gepard let out an exhale through his nose at the saying his sister would always repeat when they were kids.

“…never,”

“That’s right, little brother! Now, how long before your little date?”

He sighed again. “I’m going after I put my shield in the barracks,”

This time, it was Serval’s turn to freeze. “Right now?!” Her eyes burned holes into him.

“Yes, right now,”

She launched herself at him and dug her long nails into his shoulders. He stumbled backwards, trying to keep his balance. “NO. NO YOU CAN’T. NOT LIKE THAT,”

“Why is that?” Gepard blinked in surprise.

“You’re off duty today and you’re still in uniform? We’ve gotta get you tidied up,” she gasped.

“I sincerely doubt that they care—,” he started, remembering the time you showed up to a cafe with your gardening gloves on and dirt smudged on your face.

Serval bristled at him. He swallowed nervously.

He knew better than to keep talking.

His sister grabbed him harshly by the shoulder and yanked him out the door towards the estate.

Oh Aeons. This wasn’t going to be good.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

And finally, there you were. Gepard spotted you people watching as you waited outside of the Belobog History and Culture Museum, back rested on the handrail languidly, like a tourist.

You turned towards him with one hand gripping a pamphlet, the other shielding your eyes from the sun and—

Oh wow.

Why did he look like that?

He was taking long strides towards you, in an outfit that could only be described as way over-the-top. His hair was slicked back so you could see his forehead and (very strong) jawline, and he wore a brilliant white suit with silver accents that was most definitely meant for something more formal than a trip to the museum.

Additionally, he had on a long white cape that stopped at his ankles. With the bright sunlight shining down, it was blinding.

He looked like a foreign prince, from one of those novels Vaska liked to read. One woman’s jaw dropped as he passed by.

Oh, Aeons. Serval had definitely played a part in this one.

You, on the other hand, wore the same thing you always did. The green florist’s uniform coupled with a beret (which was rather charming, in your opinion). You shook yourself off and walked up to meet him.

“Hiya Captain!” You said as he approached.

Gepard felt something stab through his chest at the formal title, but he brushed it off.

“Glad to see you’re back in shape— and whoa, you look nice today.”

You looked him up and down keenly, and Gepard thought he felt his heart stop.

“Y-yes. I happened to have made a full recovery, thank you. Shall we go in?” He cringed inwardly at his inability to speak.

As much as he hated it, Serval was right. His heart was beating sixteenth notes as he looked at you. And no matter what he did, he couldn’t slow it down.

You nodded. But your eyes darted to the side for a second, showing a hint of uncertainty.

“Yeah! Um… Maybe lose the cape though?”

You gasped as you saw him quickly cover his face with his hand.

“N-not like it doesn’t look good on you! I was just thinking it might catch on the displays, y’know,”

“No, no. I get it.” Gepard let out a small groan, much like an arctic bear cub. “Serval insisted on dressing me up before I left. I should have told her not to.”

He grimaced, knowing all too well that it wouldn’t have made a difference either way. He then unclasped the cape and rolled it up into a tight ball, tucking it under his arm.

Whew. That was most definitely better. He looked less like a prince and more like your average rich noble. Although, if you were being honest, that wasn’t great either.

And so, he showed you into the museum with the hospitality of an attendee (he had worked there, after all). You felt like royalty. And Aeons, the lobby was absolutely perfect. It had an air of welcoming in it, and it smelled like history! Or dust. One of the two, you figured.

In true Underworld fashion, you waltzed up to the reception desk and immediately began making small talk. The blonde woman seemed startled but made nothing of it.

“How much for tickets?” You leaned your elbows on the counter. Her eyes landed on Gepard, who unbeknownst to you, was approaching from behind.

“Oh? Are you two here together?” She gasped. You whipped around, startled. “Volunteers are allowed to bring one guest for free. We appreciate your visit, Captain Gepard,”

She bowed her head respectfully and he nodded. He lightly placed a hand on your shoulder, which in turn, caused you to jump nearly half a foot in the air.

Great. Just great.

“Would you like to accompany me to the automaton section first?” He inquired. You weren’t certain, but you thought you heard a hint of shyness in his tone.

Like I’d run off without my tour guide in a building this big, you thought, glancing up at the huge arching ceilings in the main area.

“Sure! You’d better give me a tour worth a five-star review, Captain,” you chuckled.

That seemed to flip a switch. “I’ll do my utmost,” he declared.

He glanced down at you as you laughed lightly at his fiercely determined demeanor, feeling his cheeks warm at the sound of your voice. And with that, you began your tour through the museum.

First you stopped at the side parlor, which housed numerous automatons borrowed from the Robot Settlement. The models were polished and the descriptions were lengthy, which made you beam with pride. They sure knew how to treat the robots right.

Next you made your way to the main hall. It had an abundance of artifacts in sturdy glass cabinets, and beautifully intricate paintings that stole your breath away.

Gepard made sure to narrate every piece you seemed even moderately interested in. He loved how your eyes seemed to sparkle when he’d quote something he’d read in a history book, giving you a taste of the delves of information he kept stored in his brain as a Belobogian noble.

If it were up to him, you’d have access to every archive on the face of Jarilo-VI.

And you, you loved how he’d get so absorbed in explaining things that the words seemed to pour out of his mouth as he pointed at the displays. Even with the hum of the Geomarrow heaters and the constant chatter of visitors, his voice was the only one you seemed to hear.

Such simple joy it brought you. Here, staring at the photograph of the Eversummer Florists together, and chatting as if you weren’t two whole worlds apart. Gepard’s eyes took in every detail, every flower and every ray of sunlight trickling in through the windows.

You tore your gaze away from his profile to stare at your leather shoes just for a moment. Something vague flapped at the corners of your mind, but now really wasn’t the time to try and sort it out, you told yourself.

“Why don’t we tour the projector room next?” Gepard said, leaning down to look you in the eyes intently. You felt your heart leap at his voice.

Boy, were you in deep.

You mustered a smile as best you could, hoping it wasn’t too stiff.

“Sure! Lead the way,”

You had never seen such a wonderful piece of technology before. You both sat down on the velvet benches, entranced by the images flickering across the canvas.

This time, it was Gepard’s turn to stare. He’d seen it all before in his days as a volunteer. But seeing you gazing in awe at the projection as the light reflected in your eyes. That was something new.

Sitting there, shoulder to shoulder. Like equals. Watching the same screen, seeing the same things. It made his heart flutter like nothing ever had.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Wow. I am wiped!” you exclaimed after departing from the museum. “That was a great tour. Do you accept tips, Mister Volunteer Guide?” You grinned at him and Gepard let out an amused huff.

“I simply repeated what they taught me in primary school,”

“Yeah?” You inquired. “It was super immersive, though. I think you’d make a great history teacher,”

He went almost entirely pink at the compliment.

You chuckled to yourself. It wasn’t hard to make him blush, you thought.

“And also, what’s a primary school?” You piped up.

“Oh?” He paused. “It’s the first school kids attend on the surface. They learn to read, write, and all the other various things required of them,”

“Really? I remember Natasha teaching us how to read and write, but then it was straight to the mines for us,” you pondered, reminiscing back on your childhood in the Great Mine.

Suddenly, Gepard’s shoulder crashed into yours, sending you reeling into the Geomarrow heater to your left with a loud bang. You hurriedly grabbed it before it crashed to the ground.

Interestingly enough, the cause of this confusion was a small but speedy child, who had rammed into Gepard’s right leg by accident.

The child with short umber hair didn’t look back once after knocking into you, shouting “sorry,” and continuing to sprint, as a gang of ten or more children trampled after him. Their footsteps echoed along the walls of the lower floor of the Administrative district, which amplified them until it really did sound like a herd of animals.

All of the kids were carrying flags and pinwheels, staple items for the upcoming Solwarm festival, but they were wearing clothes belonging to both the Overworld and the Underworld.

This sent a jolt of surprise to your core. They played together so easily, it was like the past few decades hadn’t even happened.

“Little rascals,” you snickered, pulling away from the bench and brushing yourself off. You both stood and watched the children barrel down the road, knocking unsuspecting grown-ups into the next week. At one point, they stopped in a wide-open area and began to kick around a beanbag, their laughter ringing like bells.

Gepard’s brows furrowed, a pensive look appearing on his face.

“What’s on your mind?” You tilted your head at him with a smile on your lips.

His thoughtful expression had to have been one of your favorites.

He returned your gaze from where he was staring at the children chattering, running, and playing without a care in the world. Gepard felt the pang of a familiar memory in his chest.

“I was just considering… how nice it is to see relationships between the Overworld and the Underworld lessening in tension.”

He sighed. “I know it may sound silly, but some used to discourage interactions between the two,”

The look in Gepard’s eyes became a little more distant. “My father, for instance,”

You looked at him questioningly as he drew in a deep breath.

“I remember he once threw a vase at me in a fit of anger, after discovering I’d been visiting a group of kids from the mines,”

He glanced at the ground, looking quite like a lost puppy. “I had never heard the stories that they were telling before, so I just… kept going back to listen,”

You felt your mouth fall slightly ajar. He kept speaking.

“Thankfully, I didn’t get hurt that day, but the only reason is because my sister stepped in order to protect me,”

Your eyes widened in shock. “How— how old were you?”

“I believe I was five at the time,” Gepard stated. Almost like it was nothing.

“I think that’s where I gained some of my resolve,” he continued. “My own sister stepped forward to protect me without a thought for her own safety. So I grew up wanting to be strong, like her,”

Gepard curled his hand into a fist, letting memories of his childhood wash over him in his usual manner of acceptance. But when he looked back at you, only a glimpse of your face could be seen. You stared at the ground silently, and he could very well tell that your fists and jaw were clenched tight.

Waves of frustration at the realization crashed over you and your breath went hot. You stared back up at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

“He threw… a vase at you?” You said.

Hurt leaked into your voice against your will and you felt your heart had snapped in two. It seemed like both he and Serval harbored animosity toward their father.

And now you knew why. There was no way this was a one-time thing.

“That’s— wow, I don’t know what to say, Gepard,”

The captain showed little to no reaction. He looked back at the plaza with a soft exhale. One that exuded both sadness and gradual adjustment.

“He’s… always been that way. The Landaus, well, they all have their own sort of stubbornness in their values. His just tended to come out more,” he said.

“Stubborn, maybe.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “But he had no right to throw something at you. That could’ve really hurt a small child,”

You remembered being trapped in a landslide as a kid, and another child had kicked you in the face trying to escape. You were sent tumbling down the canyon where you fractured your shoulder and leg.

But to live with someone who, at any moment, could snap and hurt you? That was something else entirely.

Communities in the Underworld were based on a mutual network of trust. You couldn’t imagine having no one to turn to when you were scared. You stifled a sob.

“If I’m being honest with myself,” Gepard said softly, resting a hand on his chin. “It’s stuck with me well into my adult years. I haven’t quite dispelled all the preconceptions I’ve been raised with,”

“It doesn’t seem like he would have give you much room to, anyways,” you commented. “I think you two have both grown up to be wonderful people, even though you’ve faced so many hardships,”

He nodded solemnly, taking each and every word to heart. “But now, seeing these children at play, it gives me hope for the future… That Belobog truly can heal,”

It was at this moment you remembered, the captain was a kid too at one point. Behind the stoic exterior and steadfast resolve, there was a child that laughed and cried. One that had his own internal struggles, besides leading an army and reporting directly to the Supreme Guardian.

His childhood must have really had an impact on him. How would he have been different, if he had grown up in a happier home, you wondered. Despite the pain, you smiled.

Out of the blue, an idea popped into your brain.

“You know what I think, Gepard?” You chirped. “I think you just might be right!”

In a fit driven by inspiration, you leaped onto the nearest cafe table, offering your hand to your startled companion. He took it and carefully stepped onto the steel chair to join you.

“Overworld. Underworld. Why should it matter?” You shrugged confidently. “We’re here already, aren’t we? Look at us!”

You beamed at him and spun around with your arms outstretched on the wooden surface.

Turning to face him, you took both of his hands in yours. They felt warm. A soft kind of happiness filled Gepard’s eyes as he slotted his fingers in between your own.

“That’s right, we are.” He smiled gently.

You stood there for a moment, ignoring all the passerby and also the confused waitress calling for the shop owner.

If only you could take this sliver of time and put it in your pocket. You both held your breath, hoping that if you didn’t move, you could stay there until the world stood still.

Your eyes trailed to Gepard’s cheeks, which still had a slight blush to them, (maybe from the cold), down to the silver clasps that held his jacket together.

Glancing back up at his kind eyes, you felt something inside you chipping its way out.

—love you.

Your eyes went as round as the shield coins they exchanged at the Eversummer Florist’s.

What?

Oh no— oh no. Hold on. I knew something was, um, off, but is my brain playing tricks on me?

Was I just caught up in the moment? Why did I even think that?

Gepard stared at you quizzically, unaware of the mental battlefield you had just gotten your left arm blown off in.

Your heart began to race faster than one of those antique cars they had at the museum. His hands still clasped yours tightly, even as you tried to drop them gently.

You let out a strangled sound from your throat that sounded like “huegh” while steam poured out of your ears.

“(Y/N)?” He said, confused but seemingly unfazed.

You turned towards the closest brick wall, still holding his hands. Your eyes darted around like a cat after a loud disturbance.

No. I cant keep lying to myself like this.

You braced yourself for the realization as best you could.

I’m… in love with Gepard.

It still wasn’t enough. The sky and the ground seemed to reverse that very second as everything went upside down.

Still holding his hands, the first round of mental gymnastics began. You felt almost dizzy as thoughts flooded your brain, so you looked at your shoes to combat it.

(His were there too so it didn’t help much.)

Thoughts like:

Have… I been in love with him this whole time?

And, When did it start? And why? And, Did he notice? What if I’ve been super duper obvious??

And last but not least, Oh, Qlipoth. Please preserve my sanity—,

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about—,”

You were lifting your head again in order to make your statement seem sincere when, something that was crazier than the time you decided to go crowd surfing on a line of robots, popped into your mind.

Kiss him. A part of you whispered internally.

Every muscle in your body froze.

Do it. You know you want to, the voice spoke again.

Your eyes travelled slightly downward to his lips. All you had to do was—

You yanked your hands away from his harshly, opting to stare at his chest instead of his face in shame.

Oh. My. AEONS. You grabbed your face with both hands. Did I think that? Did I just think that??

No. I don’t think I did, you consoled yourself hurriedly. I think Serval developed a device that projects thoughts into people’s heads, and I’m her test subject!

Gepard made a slight movement. A jerk of the head, which was nothing noteworthy now that you look back on it, but with everything going on at that moment, it was enough to set you off.

You yelped. Just like a snow fox.

The next few moments were a blur. You had taken a step backward without realizing you were on a table, and the surface was in fact, finite, and ended up toppling onto the cold stone ground behind you.

You narrowly missed a stack of crates, which would have definitely left a mark, had you landed on one of the edges.

Gepard had practically leaped off the table to check if you were okay, but the shopkeeper had appeared, waving his broom furiously at the both of you.

Your companion tried his best to placate the man but he wasn’t having it.

In a rush of adrenaline, you scrambled to your feet and took grabbed Gepard’s hand, making a quick dash around the corner.

Hopefully the man wouldn’t recognize him. With this particular outfit, you thought Gepard might stand a chance.

In a cruel twist of fate, you both ended up huffing and puffing in a narrow alleyway behind a drugstore. All that dotted the area was a dumpster and a few posters advertising a play that was five months out of season.

“I think we lost him,” you panted, and promptly dissolved into giggles. “Did you see his face? He was all like—,” you cut off, waving your arms around with a wacky expression.

You wheezed once more and doubled over to hold your stomach as cackling erupted from your throat. Gepard was resting against the wall as well, while his chest heaved with effort.

“Ohhh!” You said, raising your head once more. “Now I remember what I was saying— I wanted to thank you for showing me around so often. I hope I’m not being too much of a burden,” you chuckled to yourself.

Gepard pulled the cape out from where it had been caught between his legs before he responded.

“Not in the slightest, (Y/N). I’m always happy to be of assistance,” he responded.

You wiped fake sweat off your brow (even though you really were sweating). “Sweet. I’m gonna go grab a drink from the vending machine, if ya don’t mind. Want one?”

“I’d appreciate it,”

You ran to the vending machine while Gepard waited, keeping a lookout while his back was pressed against the wall. He was certain his jacket would need a fair amount of dry cleaning afterward. You bounded back with two Strawberry Svarog sodas in hand and popped them open.

Gepard threw his head back and drank heartily. He let out a satisfied sigh after drinking the last drop, while you clutched your bottle tightly after only drinking it halfway.

He was almost seen. You were struck with this thought.

You grimaced. There’s no way the higher ups at the fort would appreciate whatever tomfoolery you were dragging him into.

I shouldn’t let these feelings— no, myself, get in his way.

You two were completely different people, after all. He had a job and a reputation to hold down. You were just a florist.

Maybe they’ll fade with time. You hoped. I guess… I just have to hold on until then,

Because… because there’s no way he’d feel that way about me.

For a split second, it seemed like all of your happiness had leaked out of you and disappeared down the storm drain.

You quickly swallowed the feelings that had formed a hard lump in your throat. Hoping to clear up the silence, you whipped towards Gepard with false cheer, in hopes he wouldn’t notice your mood had dampened.

“So, Captain—,”

His lip stiffened. Again with the “captain?”

“Didja hear the news about the observatory?” You chattered, kind of absentmindedly. “They’ve finally been able to repair the main telescope, and soon it’ll be open for public use again!”

“Is that so? The last time I used that telescope, I was just a boy,” he replied, slightly shocked.

“Yep! I’ve seen the sky before, but I’ve never seen it, like… up close. You know?”

He smiled as you spread your arms grandly.

“Do the guards have a telescope?” You asked with a curious look in your eyes.

Gepard thought for a second, before he replied, “I imagine we did, many hundreds of years ago. But I think the Fragmentum threat posed too great a danger on the surface that—,”

He glanced up at the small patch of sky unobscured by the walls of the alleyway. It sparkled in his eyes.

“—we could no longer afford to pay attention to the sky,”

You joined him in gazing at the clouds.

What a world that would be.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Bonus Scene 1

After the events that had transpired, and you both had gone home, Gepard was now focused on unbuttoning the seemly endless number of clasps on his coat.

This clasp in particular was incredibly frustrating. Every time he’d get ahold of it, it would slip out from between his fingers.

The captain was considering giving up and just wearing the gaudy thing forever when numerous alerts from Serval went off on his phone.

From: Serval at 15:19

Serval: geppie

Serval: geppie

Serval: geppie

Serval: hey

Serval: howd it go

You: Well, thank you.

The captain pinched the bridge of his nose irritably. Couldn��t she have waited at least an hour or so before barging in on his affairs?

His phone dinged once more.

I suppose that’s a no.

From: Serval at 15:20

Serval: is that all?

Serval: You’re totally leaving something out

Serval: oops. im being nosy again.

Serval: Call me if u wanna talk, ok?

Gepard sighed, debated for a moment what he’d rather do, then finally gave in and hit the “call” button.

[“Geppie! You called!”] Serval’s voice crackled to life through the speaker.

He could hear her smile radiating through the phone. The corners of his lips rose slightly, much to his own surprise.

“Indeed I did, sister,”

Bonus Scene 2

Back at the scene on top of the cafe table!

To keep his hands from trembling, Gepard stayed completely and utterly still.

Probably too still.

Your hands were warm, so warm. Although standing on top of a table at a random cafe wasn’t the most romantic setting, he felt like he could bring you into his embrace right then and there.

Never before had he felt so lacking in control of his own desires. Something seemed to be tugging at your thoughts, as you were looking around anxiously.

Could it be you didn’t want him to be spotted because his face was so well known? Gepard could only guess what kind of thoughts were bouncing around your brain.

He watched as you looked, back up from your shoes, to his sheepish face. Your eyes were more beautiful than the clearest ice crystals. Warmer, too. His gaze softened as he saw your eyes flick toward his lips.

And then Gepard did the unthinkable.

He leaned in closer.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

That choice did not end well for either of you.

After checking if you had hit your head and ducking into the nearest alleyway, Gepard wanted to strangle himself mentally.

Why? Why had he made such a stupid decision?

Out of all the choices, that was the most reckless one.

He really should have known better. At this rate, he risked losing your friendship because of his own selfish feelings.

The captain rested his back against the wall in shame as you ran to get drinks from a vending machine.

A man of his caliber shouldn’t be making such mistakes. He should get his act together and court you correctly, for the love of Qlipoth.

But Aeons, he could only ask himself:

What if he had waited a single second longer?

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

💙 THANKS FOR READINF I LOVE YOU 💙

#gepard x reader #gepard x reader fluff #gepard fic #gepard fanfic #hsr x reader #hsr x reader fluff #hsr fic #hsr fanfic #bfabc #gepard x florist!reader #hsr x florist!reader #fanfic #Text #not genshin #gepard #gepard hsr #gepard honkai #gepard honkai star rail #Mossball_Writing #Hsr #Honkai star rail #star rail

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hey! It's my birthday today and it's been really good but it's been kind of the first birthday I've ever properly celebrated with my chosen family and friends in a long time since a lot of trauma/ab*se, and I really hope it wouldn't be too much to ask (take as long as you need obvs) for some headcanons with a Tav that isn't going to celebrate on their birthday, but Astarion makes it special for them somehow and maybe they agree it's Tav's 'first' birthday 🥹🥹🥹👉👈

I love all your work and eagerly await your posts, they make my day 🥰🥰🥰

Hi! Hope you will like it! Now, Tiriel's birthday is also in autumn!

Birthday Gift

Summary: Tiriel has no idea when her real birthday is and she's never receieved birthday gifts. Astarion finds it outrageous.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, post-game, named Tav, established relationship.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

TW: a mention of abuse

Tiriel looks around.

Autumn.

Leaves are turning red and yellow, the winds are cold and promise winter. 

It’s beautiful, though the barbarian feels uneasy – the childhood memories. Winters are merciless in such wild places as the Sunset Mountains. Hunger, sickness, death… Sometimes her stepfather, a cruel chieftain, would order to leave certain people outside (too old, too weak) – to let them die and not waste scarce food. 

He would often pull Tiriel outside when the autumn winds were particularly harsh and say: “Look at this, pixie girl, I can just order not to give you any food and you will die like a stray cat. But I am merciful – I told your mother I’d save your pathetic half-blood life!” With these words, he would let her go and Tiriel would run to hide somewhere dark and safe.

She was lucky there were no harsh winters during her childhood. She would be the first to be deprived of food and warmth.

Only half a human. The result of an affair between her mother and an unknown elf. She still wonders why she was spared in the first place. It would have been so easy to murder a newborn girl.

They didn’t.

They kept her.

Maybe it was a superstition that elven children would become evil spirits once they died, or fear that Tiriel’s elven relatives would return. 

Those are questions without answers, Tiriel knows that.

Maybe there was a moment when her mother loved her. Maybe there was a moment when Tiriel’s stepfather really did forgive his wife. 

Tiriel doesn’t have happy memories from her childhood. It’s all too dark and miserable.

And autumns like this remind her of it.

“Hello, darling,” Astarion grins, returning to the road from the woods. His shirt is stained and he licks his lips. 

“What was it?” she asks.

“A boar. Didn’t expect I’d jump on it from the tree.”

Tiriel smiles as she wipes his face from blood and brushes his messy curls. Astarion doesn’t see himself in a mirror and, of all forms of intimacy, he especially cherishes being taken care of. Brushing his hair, cleaning his face, making sure he looks beautiful.  

Two years. Two years of her own happy memories. Where she has a person to talk to, to hold, to love. Astarion is a troubled person, but Tiriel loves him at his worst and at his best.

Astarion rubs her ear, forcing her to giggle.

“Let’s go?” he suggests. “The weather is getting worse, I want to spend the next few days somewhere warm!”

“It’s five miles to Longsaddle if I’ve read the map properly.”

Astarion takes her hand, and Tiriel feels how warm it is thanks to the boar blood. 

“Then we will meet the sunrise in a comfortable bed!” Astarion chuckles. “And in each other’s arms.”

“I doubt they have good beds there, so far from Luskan and other big cities.”

“We have low standards, you and I. As long as there is a blanket and a bed, we are fine, Besides I love using your breasts as my pillow.”

Tiriel bursts into laughter and receives a peck on the cheek.

Unfortunately, it can’t stop bad memories.

… Her siblings asked her to help them with something on a cliff. She followed them, only to be violently beaten by her older brothers. Tiriel even thought for a moment they were going to rape her, but, instead, they pushed her down to certain death.

Tiriel woke up in dirt and blood, with her arm broken in half, shivering and coughing. 

And with a cave bear ready to murder her. 

That’s when Tiriel felt rage for the first time.

It filled her veins with fire. Tiriel barely remembers what happened that night but she knows she killed that bear– and was left with facial scars. Then she came back, limping and bleeding. She thinks she fought someone, maybe one of her brothers or the chieftain and then she ran.

She ran into the mountains woods – no armor, no weapon, only rags and bare feet. 

Then she collapsed on the ground, hurt and scared in the middle of the woods, forever lost.

Tiriel remembers that moment vividly. 

A young girl who had barely hit puberty (because half-elves grow slower) woke up all alone and cried like a child. Then she got up and walked, dying of cold and hunger. 

Two days later she was found by a group of adventurers who sort of adopted her as their party child. An old halfling washed Tiriel’s hair and healed her wounds. A water genasi cooked the girl food and offered the warmest blankets. 

And the tiefling paladin asked Tiriel what her name was.

“My sweet, I thought it was me who tends to wander into dark thoughts,” Astarion squeezes. “Remembering your misfortunate youth again?”

“Yes. Just – similar. To what it was back then. The same autumn when I ran from home. The same autumn when I got my name.”

Tiriel, the little girl told the party. My name is Tiriel.

Astarion does the same thing he always does when he wants to support Tiriel.

He gives her a hug.

“Hush, Tiriel,” he murmurs. “You will never be alone again.”

Triel relaxes. That is her Astarion – a simple hug, a kiss, an embrace, and her nightmares perish.

He pulls away and Tiriel catches his most adorable smile – he doesn’t pretend, doesn’t show off, doesn’t perform. That’s real him.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

She nods. They don’t have to ask permission to do things with each other. Kisses, hugs, grabbing hands, touching intimate parts – but they still do.

Tiriel asks if she can kiss Astarion.

Astarion states he wants to kiss her.

Simple as that.

Permission and declaration.

Astarion grazes her lips. He is in his predatory mood, when Tiriel just needs to accept whatever is going to be done to her. His strong hands grab her shoulders and tug at her.

Astarion finally breaks the kiss and stares at Tiriel for a few moments.

“I am not going anywhere,” Tiriel murmurs.

“I know, Tiriel. You are mine and I am yours,” Astarion presses his forehead to hers. 

They go down the hill and find themselves on a road that connects scarce towns and settlements far from the Swords Coast. The road is more or less walkable but it soon will be washed out due to rains. Tiriel notices Astarion’s visible disgust.

“Honestly darling, we should have stayed in Baldur’s Gate and lived a life of comfort!” he chuckles.

“You would die of boredom – besides I thought you’d had enough of that place.”

“True, but there are many other comfortable places! Tiriel, you deserve to wear a nice gown made of the best fabrics and sleep in a huge master’s bed where I will ravish you till you beg me to stop.”

Tiriel turns around to see her partner better. “And then I would die of boredom. Astarion look at us – I am a nomad and you were enslaved for so long you deserve to see the world.”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t whine and complain!”

“You can whine and complain all day long, Astarion. Why even bother to be in a relationship, if you can’t do this?”

They bicker and laugh for the next hour until they see a town ahead. Despite it being close to midnight, the town doesn’t sleep and is rather festive.

“What is going on here?” Tiriel asks a passerby as they enter the town. “Some local celebration?”

“It’s our duke’s first son’s birthday,” the woman shrugs. “Not like we care about the spoilt brat but you can’t say ‘no’ to a celebration right?”

The woman disappears in the crowd and Tiriel points at the stalls.

“Astarion, look! So many sweets! Oh, and there are fireworks!”

Astarion looks distant, as if something plagued his mind.

“Love, what is it?” She asks and feels a wave of anxiety. What if it’s too much? Feasts like this used to be his hunting grounds, what if he has a painful flashback?

Two years against two centuries is almost nothing.

“Tirie,l” he finally asks. “When is yours?”

“What?”

“Birthday. I know this is a huge deal for humans and the ones who grew up with them.”

“I don’t know.”

Astarion looks at her with shock.

“You… what?”

“I don’t know when mine is, I was never told. Neither a date nor a month.”

“Oh,” Astarion didn’t expect this answer. “Well, at least you know the year, right?”

“I don’t.”

Astarion raises his index finger as if wanting to point at something, but then he shakes his head in disbelief.

“We have been together for two years and you are telling me now that you don’t… how old you are?!”

Tiriel ponders a bit.

“Well, I know it was 1472 DR when I ran away, I was told by the party who adopted me… and I had had my first blood only two months before that. But I am a half-elf and it took me longer to grow up… So I think I was… fifteen? Maybe, sixteen… Or fourteen? Definitely not sixteen… Because my older brother was sixteen… Damn, I don't really know. Don’t bother.”

“Darling, I can’t not bother with the fact that I don’t know how old you are!”

“You say it as if I was one of those little girls who look older than they are and get their one-night stands in trouble!”

“It’s not that, Tiriel! It’s just… I don’t know… wrong!”

“It probably is.”

“It is wrong.”

“I cannot do anything about that.”

The wave of sadness drags her to the bottom of her dark thoughts.

Beatings.

Insults.

Hatred.

Pain.

All at once, since she was born.

Suddenly, she is a little girl again – a little girl thrown outside in the autumn rain, in the wind, wearing only a nightshirt. Tiriel thinks she hears her stepfather's laughter from behind a thick wooden door as a seven-year-old half-elf who cries and begs him to let her in.

Tiriel stops. Tears prickle her eyes. Her face burns, and an adult half-elven woman who fought gods and demons starts ugly crying like a child. 

She collapses on her knees not caring about the dirt, wailing and sniffing.

“Tiriel!” Astarion drops his sack and kneels beside her. “Did I do… Did I ask… Oh, hells.”

He puts his arms under her shoulders and presses her to himself, lulling and swaying side to side. He murmurs all the words of love and care he is capable of.

“Let’s take you somewhere warm,” he finally says, helping her to get up.

Despite the fest, they manage to find an inn with a free room, a cheap and simple one. Tiriel has to go inside first to invite Astarion, and then he takes everything in his hands again making sure the innkeeper brings warm blankets and prepares a bath. 

“Love,” he says. “Look at me.”

Tiriel tries not to think about how bad she looks right now with her puffy face and snot but obliges.

“That's much better, now let’s take you to the bath”

An hour later, Tiriel submerges herself into the hot water and expects Astarion to join her, but instead he goes straight to the exit.

“Astarion!” she calls him out.

“I will be back soon, just relax while I am away, all right?”

Tiriel hates being alone. Too many dark thoughts, besides, now she feels guilty. Astarion went through hell and she dares to complain?!

Her past isn’t that bad in comparison with his. She has no right to pity herself. 

Time passes slowly, and Tiriel feels restless. What if something happened? What if there was a vampire hunter? Or something else…

When she finally decides to get out of the bath, Tiriel hears familiar footsteps.

“Close your eyes, little love.”

Tiriel obeys and then feels something soft and plush in her arms.

“Open” Astarion places his chin on her shoulder.

A plushie-owlbear.

Soft and cute, it’s a toy appropriate for a little girl to cuddle with. 

A toy she never had.

“Well,” Astarion explains. “Since you don’t know when your birthday is, it can be… today. 17 of Uktar. Happy birthday, love,” he kisses her cheek. “And I suppose we should decide how old you are.”

“Thirty-eight,” Tiriel says, doing mental math. “Let it be thirty-eight”

“Happy thirty-eight birthday, my lovely, darling girl.”

Tiriel feels like crying again. It’s just a toy, a plushie, a thing for a baby. But she was never treated as a child, she was never given toys or dolls. And this gift… is the best she could have received.

“Do you like it?” he asks carefully.

“Yes… I do love it! Thank you! Did you steal it?”

“I won it from the toymaker. Played cards with her.”

Astarion sits on the edge of the bathtub and Tiriel wraps her hands around his waist tugging him into water. He lets out a laugh.

“Darling, you know how long it will take to fully dry?”

“Eternity! And we will spend this eternity in the inn warm and safe,” Tiriel says. “Astarion, please! I don’t want to go back on the road now, so many bad memories!”

He sits in front of her fully in the water. “Ok my sweet, what else do you want for your birthday? Maybe I could return the favor and let you ride me in some place from your traumatic memories? I’ve seen a rather terrible-looking dirt of mud.”

Tiriel thinks for a while and then says. “I don't mind riding you, but maybe in the bedroom?”

“Whatever you say, darling!”

**

It’s sunlight outside, and Astarion feels the tugging feeling in his undead chest. He misses sunlight, that's true. 

Tiriel is asleep in his arms. They actually didn’t make it to the bedroom and had the first round in the bathtub, and now Astarion needs to repair his shirt and find missing buttons from a doublet. 

It causes him anxiety, but he shrugs it away.

He can lose all the buttons and rip all his clothes, and the only reaction he will receive will be Tiriel’s jokes.

Tiriel hugs him from behind, placing her cheek on his mutilated back. The plushie is pressed between their bodies as his warrior-love has decided to sleep with it. 

He actually didn’t expect her to like the toy. Initially, he was panicking and looking for something appropriate for Tiriel. A ring? A bracelet? Maybe a weapon? Maybe just something sweet? 

Everything he was putting his eyes on was off. Jewelry Tiriel would never wear, a weapon she wouldn’t fight with. 

And then he saw the toys. An owlbear plushie for a woman who is always treated like a brave hero. Who didn’t have a proper childhood? 

The first birthday gift for someone who has never had a birthday.

And Tiriel loved it so much she pressed it to her chest the moment they stopped ‘celebrating’. She wanted to give it a proper name, and they spent at least a few minutes discussing their ideas before they settled on Big Eye.

“Tiriel,” Astarion mutters knowing she is asleep and won’t wake up. “I love you. You will never be alone, I promise. I will be with you unless you grow tired of me, and I am sure you won’t. Thank you for … finding me. Saving. Helping.”

Suddenly he feels her wet lips on his scars.

“I will never grow tired of you,” Tiriel promises.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-eyes @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe  @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong @herdarkestnightelegance

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #named tav #baldur's gate tav #baldur's gate iii #astarion established relationship #barbarian tav #half elf tav #hurt/comfort #tiriel of the sunset mountains #tiriel the barbarian #astarion x tiriel #oc tav: tiriel #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion baldurs gate 3 #astarion brainrot #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion fluff #astarion fanfiction #astarion imagine #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion fics

[xzhdjsj]

Tangled in Love

Andrew x Reader

Okay before you continue this, I wanted to let you know this fic mentions description of hair texture. The reader has wavy/curly hair! Additionally, this fic is a rewrite of part 6 of Andrew’s story.

+a lil rant before the actual fic (you can skip the first part but please read the second)

I wasn't going to post this because it's a self-indulgent piece but hey I’m sure someone out there will enjoy it too. I've struggled with my hair for quite a while. It was one of my biggest insecurities, and I never knew how to take care of it. For the majority of my life, I've treated my hair as though it was straight, using straight hair products and styles, because that's what I wanted my hair to be. I hated the 'frizz' which in actuality was just me damaging my curl pattern😭 Thankfully, even though I couldn't see it, the people around me did and helped me manage and properly care for my hair. These days, I embrace my curls, and I love them more than anything! If I'm not rocking my curly hair I feel incomplete, it's become a huge part of me! I still have a long way to go, but I'm beyond happy I was able to finally recognise how beautiful my hair is.

That being said, I want to remind all of you that YOU ARE PERFECT! I know we doubt and pick at ourselves from time to time, but it's important to remember THOSE DOUBTS DON'T DEFINE US! Every imperfection and flaw is what makes you perfectly, uniquely and most of all beautifully YOU. Please remember to be kind to yourself and never ever stop loving yourself ❤️

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It's been months since Andrew ended things with me. At first, I prided myself in being mature and acted like the entire thing never even happened. I stopped sitting where his eyes can easily find me, I never take similar routes as he would and avoided his office at all cost. It was easy to find a temporary tutor to help with my assessments, that way I didn't even need to attend his tutorials. 

The less contact with him the better. This little routine was good and dandy, getting me by as I immersed myself completely in y work. If I distracted my mind, I wouldn't need to think of Andrew, right? Wrong.

So fucking wrong.

Every other thought, he was on my mind. I wondered how he'd answer questions on my exam preps, and his opinion on every sentence I wrote. I thought of him so much, it was sickening and before I knew it I was tired and relapsing.

I gave university my all until I couldn't anymore. I was heartbroken and ignoring my feelings only made them worst. They burdened my mind, and I spent nights upon nights crying my eyes swollen into my pillows. I knew I had to accept it somehow but the ghosts of him haunts me, even in my dreams.

Last night’s dream was an especially painful one. I vividly remember the look on his face and the way my heart shattered into a million pieces as he drove away that day. What a shit start to my day!

I rolled out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom where I splashed my face with cold water and looked into the mirror. What a mess, my hair was messy and unkept and not in and attractive, quirky way, more closely resembling a bird’s nest. I wonder if Andrew could ever love me even when I look like this.

I sigh, rubbing my temples and trying not to cry again. Maybe a nice long shower would help, so I did just that. I stayed under the running water for more than an hour, then detangled my hair before stepping out. It did help, at the very least I felt clean and refreshed.

Today was going to be more or less going to be simple, there was a single task posted on Moodle and that’s all I needed to get done.

I settled into a comfy set of clothes and started drying my hair, only to be interrupted by a knock on my door. Who could that be? I threw the towel over a chair and opened the door, and my eyes are met with the last person I wanted to see.

“Hi, I’m here to speak to you” His mouth is agape and he looks a bit shocked.

Speak to me? Here to speak to me? My mind roared. Absolutely not. I was about to slam the door in his face, but he steps forward.

“Only as a professor!” He clarifies. “May I please come in?”

“Fine, but make it quick.” I demanded.

He sighs, “Thank you.”

He steps inside and I lock the door behind him. A waft of his scent hitting my nose, God how I missed that.

“I've emailed you several times about booking a tutorial, whether that be online or in person, and I haven't heard anything back. Me being here is a last resort. It's part of my job to make my students are well, and that if they're struggling, I can point them in the right direction.” He paused, finally taking his eyes off me to look around. “You have a nice place. It's what I imagined it would look like.”

“That’s not why you’re here And- Mr. Marston.”

“Yes, strictly business it is then, though, I don't want to treat it as such.” His eyes are on me again, but I refuse to give him the same attention choosing to fidget with my fingers instead. “I'll try and keep things brief for the both of us. You've been attending as usual, on top of your work as usual and nothing on the surface warrants concern, but because this is around the time where I need to be updated on essay plans and what you intend to do, us talking to one another is inevitable and for your records, and my peace of mind, we must.”

“It’s going good.” I replied, monotoned.

“It’s going good? Is that’s all I get?” He pushes.

“It’s an update, is it not?”

“It's a different response. In the past when we had our tutorials, that went on for at least an hour, you were so passionate about your subject, you made your own reading list and clearly planned out your arguments. You talked me through every point and asked for my opinion just to be sure you couldn't look at it from any other angle because you were adamant about not just getting it right but understanding different perspectives. Tutorials are only supposed to last around half an hour. Why do you think I always put you in the last slot? The look you have when you lose yourself to your ideas, when your eyes spark with this clarity I never want to stop you mid-thought or let that light disappear.” He rants and I wish he’d stop describing me that way.

“First and foremost, I am your professor. I’m here to nurture your curiosity and always have you searching for answers so when you don't show up to your tutorials I get concerned.”

“But I attend classes and all my work is completed. Is that not enough?”

“Your work is fine but that's not the problem I-” He paused and sighs for the hundredth time, “I want to ask how you are.”

“Now you’re interested in that?”

“I never had the chance to and even if I did try to talk to you would you have answered?”

Well shit, he’s got me there. I stay quiet and stare at my feet.

“You've been avoiding me for over a month now and I completely understand why. It's enough that you're still going to classes and doing your work, and I can't imagine what you must be feeling having to be taught by me even now. For the pain I still give you, I am sorry. For the pain I gave you that day, I am sorry.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Is that why you’re here? To say sorry?”

“I didn't come here under the pretense of apologizing but… it's something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now. The rumours have died down but that doesn't change the thoughts people still have. It's not something that we should live with, but we must.” He regains his composure quickly, shifting the conversation back to university. “Anyway, care to tell me anything else about your essay? Any avenues you're thinking of exploring? Any reading material that's caught your eye?”

“What about you? Howe you Andrew?” I finally find his face with my eyes.

“I thought you wanted to keep this strictly business.” He uses my words against me. “Don't worry about me. I want you to focus on your studies.”

He smiles and it makes my heart skip a beat.

“Have you… Have you seen the petition?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it. I considered resigning and letting them win.” My eyes widen at his confession.

“Rumours can get out of hand quickly. Heh, never in my life did I think I’d be called such names. Now people think I let students get close to me to get good grades, no matter the gender. I’m a danger to all apparently.”

He sounds tired too, that’s one thing I can sympathise with him.

“The dean’s comment eased some of the backlash, but this is a burden I’ll most likely carry for the rest of my career.” He continued.

I stay quiet, unsure how to respond to him. I supposed we’ve both been hurting in our own ways.

“Can I be frank with you?” He catches my attention again and I look up from my thoughts. “I don’t regret any of it. It was one of the most honest decisions I’ve ever made. My only regret is not protecting you when it mattered and- and I’ll never be able to undo that.”

Fuck he always makes things so difficult for me.

“When I saw that video, and those comments I panicked. The first thing that came to my mind was how you’d feel reading them and how you’d continue knowing people thought of you that way. I know how that feels, something similar happened to me years ago. It hurts being ostracised and judged on lies and when you wade in that water you still have to hold your head up high, so you don’t drown. But thinking back I was irrational. I let my own fears get the better of me and made a decision that was not only mine to make. I… I should have spoken to you before driving you away. I’m not asking for your forgiveness or pity. I just need to let you know this.”

“So what now?”

“That’s a good question, I would say we continue as we are now, I only have your best interests at heart and that should be more important to me than my feelings for you.”

“You… you still have feelings for me?”

“Of course, I do! You think they just stopped? I tried burying them, stifling them, but every time you walked into my lectures it was impossible not to remember all the things we experience together.”

“Andrew look at me.” I shake my head. “I look awful, I’m a mess.”

“I disagree. You’re still as beautiful as the day I left you. If not, even more. Your hair, I- I’ve never seen it like that. It might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

My hair? I haven’t even straightened it like I always do. How could he find this beautiful?

“Still, you said it yourself, this could never work. Why would you-“ “I’m saying my heart wants to follow you again. Despite it all, I still want you.” He sounds so desperate, and I can feel my heart in my throat. “But this isn’t about what I want. It’s up to you. I you want nothing to do with me outside of university, so be it. If you want to give this a chance, a real chance, I’m fine with that too.”

“Andrew I-“ “You don’t need to give me an answer now, or at all actually. Just… do what you feel most comfortable with.”

That day I had a lot more to think of as I stood in front of my mirror once again. My hair was still unstraightened and a thought crossed my mind. I remember Andrew’s words before he left.

“I know I said it before, but your hair really does beautiful. I can’t quite get over it. It suits you.”

Maybe if I was going to give this another shot, it was time to start afresh. No more secrecy and sneaking around. I stare at my hair in the mirror. Maybe it did suit me and it wouldn’t hurt to try something new, would it?

-

Months later I feel so much better, the air is clearer, the sun is shining and I’m finally ready to talk to Andrew again.

I sat the window of the café I asked to meet at, looking over at the door each time the bell chimed. This time I was right, it was him. He spots me quickly and walks over.

“Hi, I know I’m a little early. May I sit?”

“Of course, please do” I urge him.

“I see you changed your hair. It looks really good.”

I run my fingers across the soft curls on my shoulder.

“Less of a change more of an embrace I’d say. I thought it was about time I stopped straightening it and wear my natural hair.”

“Not that you were any less beautiful before, but I find it harder to keep my eyes off you now.”

I smile. My cheeks are probably flushed, I can feel them all warm like the fuzzy feeling in my stomach.

“You know it’s very similar to my decision.” I tell him. “It’s another thing I want to embrace and flaunt to the world.”

“And I'll accept it no matter what it might be. So, what's your decision?”

My ass is off the chair in an instant, and I lean over the table to pull his face to mine. I missed kissing him, I missed kissing him so damn much.

#sorry for ze long rant #i just wanted to let you whos reading this know that I love you! #every part of you! #zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #andrew #andrew marston #hair is looking gorjus but my pockets hurt from buying hair products😭

[lunar-years]

TV Show Reddit Pages: cesspools for the worst takes about the show you can see on the internet. absolutely no one will interpret your favorite characters correctly and in fact they will probably misinterpret and butcher characters you feel mainly neutral about so severely that you will feel a need to write essay long thinkpieces defending the honor of a character you've only thought about twice in your life. there will be at least one post a day that is straight up racist, misogynistic, homophobic, or otherwise bigoted, and then there will be people in the comments agreeing with it. be prepared to see "WAIT I just realized..." followed by something that a) was incredibly obvious to everyone who watched the show; b) never even happened; or c) is a theory with no basis whatsoever in reality. you will leave every thread appalled and dismayed and possibly permanently damaged

Craft/Hobby Reddit Pages: Beacons of gentle human interaction and kindness. a celebration of life's simple joys. at least one old lady is there to show you the way. everyone is gleefully sharing their wips and finished objects. post yours for instant validation and gratification! the two snotty comments have already been downvoted to oblivion. they will provide links to everything you need to make the thing in the post. 1000/10.

#this is just my experience of course #but literally. EVERY TV SHOW. #r/knitting and r/embroidery and r/makeup you are sooo beloved

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

Will garmadon develop his love and empathy for lloyd again post season 9 or will it forever be gone like in the show?

The thing of it is that while Garmadon does wind up having to relearn how to love/care -> winds up missing his son -> channels those feelings into Christofern, he’s still in a state where his worst attributes are amplified, making it consistently hard for anyone to reach common ground with him (except Vinny, I suppose, who at least didn’t have any previous personal baggage with the guy). It may never take shape in quite the right way, or as much as Lloyd would need, but I will not deny that it IS there.

The other half if it is that Lloyd had some very complicated feelings about his father already, even when venom was the only thing holding him back + even when he turned “good” he still wasn’t ideal. Garmadon through this whole life, post-revival or not, has done so many things that he can’t take back when it comes to Lloyd. Lloyd of course wants to see him be better and wants to give him a chance, but by Crystalized he’s just done with it all, and I don’t blame him for it.

He wanted to believe so badly in his dad’s goodness in S8 that the stunt nearly got everyone he cared about massacred, and with how backhanded Garmadon is (willingly or not) in Crystalized, of course Lloyd isn’t exactly eager to throw himself into his good graces again. He’s learned the lesson the hard way that some people have a limit, and even those who are striving to be better (as they should) don’t deserve all our energy nor forgiveness if they’ve hurt us.

I can see Lloyd forgiving Garmadon one day (as he is the most forgiving person in the world), but I’m pretty sure there’s a reason he’s fully shifted all his idolization focus into Wu come DR :V

As always, and as ever, it’s complicated.

#info tag #lloyd garmadon #lord garmadon #if it were simply a case of ‘does’ or ‘doesn’t’ #Lloyd wouldn’t be having a tennis match with his feelings in Crystalized

[cheriladycl01]

The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 6

Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!

Credit to macrazylive for the GIF

'Where is Y/N Y/L/N' was the talk of the paddock on the coastline of Miami after you missed media day on Thursday. Zhou was there alone trying his best to make funny content but clearly the lack of you there was affecting him.

The presenters for Sky Sports also could tell there was a lack of you in the paddock. Obviously it was still loud thanks to Lando and those kinds of energies.

But where it was media day people didn't think too much of it, maybe you slept in and was too embarrassed to rock up late, or maybe you missed your Wednesday flight ... or maybe you'd been asked by your PR team not to show up because of everything with you and Lewis in the media right now.

There was a lot of noise around Lewis and you. A lot of it wasn't kind either, the worst being that people assumed you slept your way into your seat as the only woman in F1. This started a spiral of hate towards you, people had somehow doxed you and death threats had been sent to your home and you couldn't even log into your socials because it was so bad.

When you didn't arrive for the first free practice that's when more attention was brought to your absence.

"Have you guys seen Y/N?" Carlos asks the little group he was stood with, concerned he hadn't seen you.

"No, she wasn't here yesterday for media day and she didn't come out in FP1, her side of the garage was actually so slow and empty. Their main focus was on getting Zhou out!" Lando admitted having seen with his own eyes what your absence had done to the team.

"As a rookie it's risky missing free practice, maybe they'll announce a replacement for her tonight?" Charles offers sipping on his drink that he'd taken with him from their hospitality.

"I can't believe it, I wonder what's going on!" Daniel nods, wondering why the paddock princess wasn't here.

Things got stranger when you also didn't turn up for FP2 on the same day.

You also weren't there the next morning and everyone was thinking Alpha Romeo were going to have their first DNS of the season where you still weren't around.

It was around 20 minutes until qualifying was supposed to start when someone noticed your paddock pass had been scanned in. They sent someone from the FIA to search and see if it was a mistake or if you had in fact come in.

By the time someone reached the garage to ask you were already in your car waiting to come out for qualifying. You were nervous as hell, you'd missed out on all the free practices and never driven the Miami circuit.

You drove out and ended Q3 in P14, one away from the cut off and it was on a lap where you'd only just managed to get passed the flag in time to get that vital last lap in. Zhou despite having been around the whole weekend and participating in all the free practice sessions didn't have as great a run as you coming P17 and being eliminated for Q2.

Come Q2 and the commentators were in shock with how quickly you were coming to grips with the track. You were only a few tenths of a second off Lando's time coming in P6, a drastic change from your previous result.

You stayed sat in the car in Q3, everyone in the garage knew you didn't really want to talk right now. So it was only you engineer talking to you every now and then telling you stats and times.

Q3 again was pretty good and you were managing to start P5. And considering the week you've had you felt really good about that result.

The rest of the weekend just had awkward vibes, you could tell in your post race interviews how much you didn't want to be there.

"Y/N, it's great to see you back around here and what a great result for you despite being absent for all your free practice sessions!" the interviewer says and you just nod, it wasn't a question. It was a statement so you didn't have to answer.

"How do you feel about that result?" they ask.

"Yeah, good. I think I got as much as I could out the car as I could!" you reply and the interviewer sighs knowing this would be a hard interviewer seeing as this was the first time they were experiencing icy and cold Y/N.

You ended up the interviews quickly, your PR apologizing to the last few saying you wouldn't be doing any more of them.

You went back to the hotel exhausted, just wanting to sleep and get this weekend over.

Twitter was going crazy over how you had been acting in your interviews, your fans specifically were really concerned and of course because it was brought up online all the other drivers saw their reactions and had to go look for themselves.

The ones who hadn't really interacted with you just put it down to an off day, which did happen with drivers particularly rookies who were being too hard on themselves which wasn't uncommon in the newbies.

But for those who did know you and had made the effort to welcome you to the sport, like Zhou, like Carlos, like Lewis, like Charles and Lando and George and Alex ...

They all could tell something was seriously wrong, but it seemed impossible for anyone to get hold of you.

Even the next day on race day, you showed up in the paddock for the national anthem of America, and were ushered straight to your car by your PR team, all the other drivers sharing a look of confusion.

You looked so exhausted and worn out, but they didn't know why.

The race wasnt good, as well as being tired from a severe lack of sleep, there was also your mental state affecting your drive. So you went from P5 down to P7, still in the points but it just didn't really feel ... good enough and you went back to the hotel disappointed.

Your PR team had refused you do any media after the shit show you caused with your bluntness yesterday and thoughts it's best to send you on your way to Switzerland to sort everything out that had been happening and get ready for Spain.

"Charles, she wont answer me..." Carlos had complained to Charles worried about the young driver.

"I don't know Carlos, we're all routing for her and hoping she's okay but maybe she just needs some time alone because of all the pressure. She the first in years to be here, as a woman you know... i cant imagine the pressure she's been feeling" Charles explains with a sigh.

"Mmmmm Toto have you heard anything about Y/N... she's well I don't think she's okay!" Lewis asked his boss in the Mercedes garage.

"Mmmm nothing, but i'll reach into my contacts. I knew her since she was 13 because she was the frist female Mercedes Development Driver/ Young Driver we sponsored. It's a shame really she isn't driving for one of our teams" Toto sighs, knowing Lewis wanted answers starting to tap away on his phone.

You knew these people cared about you, but right now... what you were dealing with and experiencing, you didn't want to drag any of them into.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #cs55 fluff #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #cs55 fic

[ivysangel]

I am dead serious when I say that you guys need to start giving writers feedback more often. I have a fic here that has a total of 4015 notes and only 218 aren't likes. So, let me break this down for you a bit.

Of 4015 notes, 186 are reblogs and 32 are comments. Two reblogs, as well as comments, are mine so I'll subtract them from the equation making the total number of notes 4011 (184 rbs, 30 comments, 3,797 likes).

Of the 184 reblogs, 16 are private, meaning they're absolutely useless in spreading and sharing the piece. The remaining 168 consists of 136 reblogs falling under "other reblogs" while only 32 fall under "comments and tags." And of the 32 under "comments and tags," only 9 have something besides a copy of the tags that I included in my initial post.

The 184 reblogs make up 4.6% of the total notes, the reblogs under "comments and tags" make up 0.8% of the total notes, and the reblogs under "comments and tags" with anything besides tags copied from the initial post make up 0.2% of the total notes.

At one point, I reblogged the post, asking if anyone wanted a part two. That's when I got my first comments. The first 6 comments were in response to that, and of the 30 total comments (excluding my own), only two were unrelated to a part two. Which means I can guarantee that I wouldn't have had that many comments had I not posed the question of a sequel fic.

And if I add those 2 comments to the 9 reblogs, I get 0.3% of the total notes on my post that make up the portion of notes that aren't likes, empty reblogs, or comments about a part two. And that's me being generous because two of the reblogs actually do mention a part two.

I also posted a poll asking what people wanted in part two, and that poll got 238 votes. That is 54 people more who voted for what they wanted in a part two that didn't reblog or help push part one.

Don't get me wrong, I love seeing people in my notifs liking my posts, but sometimes it's just not enough. It is utterly exhausting waking up to multiple hundreds of notifications and not seeing a single person compliment your work. You guys will like stuff, follow, and then head straight to the inbox asking for more. I know it's been said a hundred times before, but we are not machines; we do this for free in our spare time.

The post in question was written when I was tired out of my mind, and I ended up not liking it, so I let it sit in my drafts. I briefly mentioned it on my blog and was met with one of my followers showing interest in the idea, which prompted me to revise, edit, and post it. It was a gift, as are all fics and pieces of art by writers and artists on this site, and yet it was treated like a commodity.

When people say it's unmotivating they're not kidding. When I had 100+ asks in my inbox, all of them being requests, I felt like I had the worst case of writers block known to man. I would open my inbox and immediately close it because the idea of posting anything knowing the only response would be more requests, was awful.

When people leave little messages in the tags, full-blown commentary, or kind messages in my inbox referencing posts, I feel more motivated than ever. Those responses are what drives me to write more. But when I, and other writers, are being treated like we're here to cook up whatever fantasisies you have in mind, I can't help but side-eye a little.

We wouldn't write if we didn't enjoy it, but the moment it feels like a job, it becomes that much less enjoyable, and then everybody loses. Just send a kind message to your favorite writers every once in a while. I promise it'll make their day.

I would also like to say that as I've written this, I've seen more people like that post. So, there's that.

#i hope this makes sense #it's 5 am and i haven't slept yet #★ just yappin ★

[iheart-alastor]

Part 2 of Fem!Reader who can control sound x Alastor

▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃

After your most recent encounter with the radio demon you wanted to stay on high alert. You couldn't be caught being the person interrupting his broadcasts by random rock songs you thought he'd hate with a strong passion to just interrupting him by calling him old and outdated.

You knew he wanted to find out the person interrupting his broadcasts, it was obvious he'd try pry information out of you whenever you got on his broadcasts.He would ask about your name or how long you've been in hell or just what you look like. You would go from interrupting his broadcasts to interrupting the weird shit Vox yaps on about in his podcasts with jazz music just to make his systems crash at the thought of alastor what is surprisingly more amusing then interrupting alastor. Maybe you would quit pestering alastor and maybe join him to get under vox's skin. Okay he may hate you but he didn't know who you was when you bumped into him the other day and he seemed awfully nice! What if he hated you when he finds out you're the one messing up his broadcasts? Should you try befriend alastor?

ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ

Once you got back from ur morning walk u stood outside your apartment building and looked up to see the building on fire. Fucking turf wars. Honestly a joke! Now you have nowhere to live and you lost all your belongs it's only 8 in the morning and they're already going at it. Well that's besides the point now, you need to figure out where to live. You had left your purse in the building so you have no money for a new apartment. Guess your gonna have to go find somewhere to stay now.Whilst walking around town whistling your favorite tune you notice an advert for 'Hazbin Hotel's to redeem sinners. That sounds unrealistic but if you get free housing and maybe a chance in heaven what's the worst that could happen..

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Once you got to the building you only had to wait at least a second after knocking for a blonde girl shorter then you to open the door "Hi what can I do for you my names charlie! " she shook your hand before you cleared your throat "my names y/n I'm looking for a place to stay.. Maybe redemption?" As soon as you said that she squealed and dragged you into the lobby. After being introduced to vaggie Charlie's girlfriend husker angel dust and nifty, who's most certainly going to be in your nightmares tonight Charlie informed you there was one more person you hadn't met. 𝘼𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧. How was you supposed to tease and mock one of hells overlords when your now going to be staying inside the same building as him??? Surely he won't find out.. Right??

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

A/n: stop I'm so sorry I stopped posting for a while! I know I said I'd be posting like a week ago but stuff happened and I had to delay it and I hadn't been able to make it long enough as planned:(

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #fem reader #radio demon #fluff

[ask-the-critters-survival-au]

Static breaks out from the Monitor's speakers...

"Ah, I am sorry young one. There is a delay in these messages. I would have tried to time it better if I could have. And to you, loving one, I am sorry as well... but please give me a moment. There is another child that requires my voice. I will however try to let you listen in on what I can, rest assured of that."

Static spikes as magic twists and pulls. An attempt is made to allow Picky's voice to pass through the medium's speakers- but if failure on that front occurs... Then only the voice from the monitor shall be heard.

"Child- I cannot reassure you- cannot give you proof. If you were to even dare to say to Catnap that Dogday is trapped within the Playhouse... He will do far worse to you then he did Kickin. He is not ready to be saved yet. He will not listen to reason yet. The prototype still enthralls his mind. I wish not to make a deal with you either- To ask to see Dogday's whereabout would cost you your eyes child- if not more. That is not something I wish to take from you."

"I promise you this- I will do all in my limited power to save him. That is my oath to you children. That is what I hope my fellows swear as well. To keep all 8 of you destined children breathing, you 8 stars who now find yourself upon a stage after 10 years of plans and schemes and tragedy begin to finalize as the first act of this story's finale arrives. You who's very fate lays connected- where one death may lead to loss of you all." "I swear to you that even if the worst is to come and Ᏽዐ𐌃'𐌔 𐌂ⶴꝊነ𐌄ክ truly does descend these hallowed halls, I will do my best to arm you against their divine march. That is how far I, and I hope my fellows are willing to aid you- for however much that means to you child. Please. For all of your sakes. Stop this purist of your fellow star. I beg and grovel to you. Please."

Static shifts and churns once more as once Picky's response may or may not be sent through old speakers- the connection is changed so that only Bobby and Hoppy may hear these next words.

"You have questions Bobby... You must. I hope you heard all of what I spoke of earlier... and Hoppy I hope can tell you of everything that has happened leading up to this as well as the rules of the magic that allows all of this to occur. I ask this of you Hoppy, no secrets. Please."

"Ask away your questions once your friend fills you in Bobby. Me and my fellows will do out best to answer as best as we can- but there are delays and the warping of time with these messages. Apologies if your responses are not post haste."

"Talk with you both soon... be safe."

(Let's be honest here. The Player's objectively horrifying if you take game mechanics into account- and even without them their luck is just- What do you do against that? Let's hope God's Chosen doesn't show up gang- Cause that would be really bad. Hope just hinting at the Player is okay with you mod! Have a great day!)

I don’t believe you. DogDay turned tail and fled. Left us. Like a COWARD. I am going to find that rabbit. And I am going to rip her limb from limb. And once I am finished, DogDay is next.

Meanwhile…

Thank you so much. You are far too kind.

(They did not hear either the voice from the monitor or Picky speaking)

[Mod note: Still indecisive about the player, but thank you for that anyways! Have a great day as well.]

#ask blog #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #ask the critters #smiling critters #poppy playtime au #ask the smiling critters #hoppy hopscotch #hoppy hopscotch poppy playtime #mod note #picky piggy poppy playtime #picky piggy #bobby bearhug #bobby bearhug poppy playtime #dogday poppy playtime #dogday

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

If I was in a lucid dream with a ghost, I would simply impress them with my blunt rolling skills

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mdzs au #MDZS disco elysium au #This is brought to you by my Scrambled Egg brain - slowly burning up as I try to finish a long comic for this AU. #I hoped it would be done several days ago but I've changed things so many times....It is now Very Close to being done! #I probably should have just posted each page daily but at this point I'm just being stubborn. I want it complete and together. #Ruining the surprise a bit to say 'yeah its a digital art comic' #But its been tricky figuring out the style I want to use for it! #hence the swaths of MSpain(t) doodles that boil down to 'how would this look if I did X?' #I wanted to do a fully Black & White Ink style. But I scrapped it. Then I did small bits of colour. And scrapped it. Sigh. #This comic started out as just the first panel and then my brain went 'hold on. Its time to make a dumb joke' #Any disco elysium fans who finished the game probably know the scene I'm doing for the *actual* comic after seeing this <3 #Anyways I know in my heart LWJ would roll the worst blunts ever his first time. And then dedicate himself to the rolling craft- #-until he has finally mastered it. He would roll blunts so good that people would hire him and pay him a monthly salary for it. #But he declines. His master blunts are for his beloved and his beloved alone. #wwx would roll above average but after having lwj do it for him he can ever go back.

[jorrated]

i cant believe my semester starts tomorrow and ill need to go back to pretend to being neurotypical.

#i assume by the amount of art i post people know im kinda neurodivergent #but im so anxious about drawing in public/where people can see #so basically i cant draw the whole day and it drives me actually insane it feels painful #aaauggghghgh ghghhhhhghgaaaaa[ #ill need to go back to interact with people i dont wanna intereact with and go to a classroom that has a funky smell #and the ac is never in the correct temperature #and people are alwasy talking. and the professors repeat stuff too much or say shit thats too obviuous #im whining. drama ass bitch moment. #but its so real #the first week is always the worst cause i gotta readjust #and just. learn to be okay with that god forsaken building and people #oh well!!!!! #at least ill see my friends more

[robinsversion]

As someone who once had their art stolen by a mutual who has many times more followers than me and I only found out because I happened to click on her ig stories on the right day,

Get his ass.

#so yeah I can empathize with the writers and artists who had their work stolen by James #especially the one who found out through his patreon because she supported him on there #that one hit especially close to home #there’s no feeling like going out of your way to support the work of someone who you want to succeed #only to find out they plagiarized from you specifically #and the worst part is that my art was a drawing that she used as the base for an embroidery project #and I would have let her use it if she had just ASKED AND CREDITED ME #and I had only posted it days earlier so it’s not like she could have already forgotten who posted it #but nope #instead she just swiped it and hoped I wouldn’t see #and I can’t even say anything in fear of her fans dogpiling me since she’s sent them after other people before #welp. #james somerton #hbomberguy #why are you booing me i’m right