#to all the boys i’ve loved before headers

[pandoraslxna]

i want neteyam to corrupt me so badly 🫣

Special friends – Chapter 1

adult Neteyam x female Omatikaya reader

Summary: Neteyam was so used to being the golden child of his family, always doing as he’s told… he wanted to be bad sometimes too. He wanted to be the one that would teach you all these filthy things. All the things you were never allowed to do, talk or even think about.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: explicit smut, super heavy corruption kink, innocent / virgin reader, secret crush, slight age difference but both are adults, childhood friendship, hand job, masturbation, praise kink, he calls reader 'peach' a lot

Notes: big thanks and all credit goes to @cinetrix for the amazing and insanely accurate Neteyam art I’ve used to create the header for this mini series!! 🩵

Pure and innocent were probably the first two words that came to mind if you would’ve asked any omatikaya to describe you. And it was true. Your parents did great, keeping you away from anything dangerous and basically shielding you from the whole world. Scared that anyone might take advantage of their precious daughter, any interaction with boys were strictly forbidden to you, even after you had officially reached adulthood.

Except for Neteyam of course.

He was your childhood best friend and probably your only friend too, since your parents didn’t trust anyone else with you. Anyone else could take your purity and innocence away, could take advantage of you… but not Neteyam.

It was a good thing that your parents trusted him. Of course they did, he was son of the olo’eyktan and toruk makto. Surely, he would never do such things to you. He was a good boy and grew up into a honorable and well respect man among your clan.

Neteyam had always acted like your shadow. Wherever you went, he followed you, made sure you were safe and protected –especially after you had reached adulthood and your parents finally allowed you to roam around the clan and forest more freely. He would always keep an eye out for you. Knowing that Neteyam was with you eased their minds a lot.

If he was with you, no other man would dare and try to talk to you. Neteyam made it known to anyone who would even glance in your direction, that you were not interested and will never be. You blamed his behavior on your parents, but what you didn’t know was, that he scared them all away because you belonged to him. At least in his mind, you were his alone.

You were a piece of heaven. Purity herself, send by Eywa on a little silver platter, just for him. You looked up at him with those big, innocent eyes of yours full of adoration and love and he wanted nothing more than to devour you. You made him feel things.

You weren’t dumb, no. You were just so clueless about all the stuff that the people your age in the clan usually did. You were so painfully oblivious, it bought Neteyam great pleasure introducing you to all the things that adults do. Kissing and touching each other, even holding hands was something you had never experienced before. You’d never even touched yourself before, as he‘d only recently found out. You made him go insane.

Neteyam wanted to corrupt you, that’s what it was. He was so used to being the golden child of his family, always doing as he’s told… he wanted to be bad sometimes too. He wanted to be the one that would teach you all these filthy things. All the things you were never allowed to do, talk or even think about.

Kissing you was one of his favorite thing to do. He had introduced you to it, just a couple of months ago. Neteyam told you that it was something that mums and dads do, but sometimes friends would do it too, if they loved each other enough– but it had to stay a big pinky-promise secret between you two! Fuck, you were so excited when he told you that.

"You love me, do you?", he had asked you.

"Of course! I love you so much 'Teyam", you told him with a big smile. You were completely honest, he knew that. Lying wasn’t a concept you were really familiar with. You weren’t familiar with many things.

"See? Then it’s totally fine to kiss. It just shows how much you love me, peach."

But things went a little downhill from there…

Neteyam often took you to his favorite place in the forest, where he knew nobody would disturb his special time with you. And the second you two were alone, you would ask him for a kiss. And then another and another. It felt good, made warmth spread in your tummy. You just wanted to demonstrate how much you loved your dearest friend, wanting to kiss him all the time now. It was adorable, really.

Neteyam remembered how you squeaked when he first used his tongue to kiss you, just a few weeks ago. How your cheeks flushed and your tail swayed nervously. You were a little taken aback, but Neteyam soothed you quickly, "That’s a special kiss, you know? For when a normal kiss isn’t enough anymore. C‘mon let’s try it again, I’m sure you‘ll like it."

And you did like it. A lot. Neteyams tongue was warm and wet and he curled it around yours sometimes. You loved the way he would hold your face in his big, soft palms and gave you these special kisses that would last twice as long as normal kisses. Sometimes you had to pull away because you couldn’t hold your breath any longer and then Neteyam would laugh and tell you how cute you looked.

Now these special kisses were your favorite thing to do. You had always loved to straddle his lap, your legs crossed behind his back so you were face to face with each other. But now, instead of sitting in this position to talk for hours, all you wanted to do was share some special kisses with him. And of course Neteyam couldn’t deny you that.

You loved how Neteyam often tasted like whatever fruit he had just eaten, how his breathing became heavier the longer you two kissed. Sometimes he would hold your hips and pull you a little closer and it gave you that strange, tingling feeling in your stomach. But Neteyam assured you that this was normal too. That it could happen sometimes, if you share too many kisses. That’s why they were special afterall.

Today was no different.

You had kissed him for what felt like an eternity, pressed against each other tightly, but then he had abruptly stopped. He broke away from the kiss, a thin string of salvia connecting your lips for just a brief second and then he had cursed under his breath like he was hurt or something.

"Teyam, are you okay?", you ask him genuinely worried. He exhales a shaky breath and then forces a thin smile to appear on his lips. "I don’t know, peach, it’s just… no, forget about it. I don’t want you to break your pretty little head over it." He caresses a thumb over you cheek affectionately, yet you couldn’t help the little pout forming on your bottom lip.

"No tell me! I want to know what’s wrong. Please."

Neteyams gaze lowers and you follow its trail, to where you sat on his lap. He was looking at something down there and it didn’t take you long to spot it. There, where his loincloth was… there was a bulge. And a little wet patch on the fabric too. How strange.

"You know how our special kisses sometimes do that tingle thing in your tummy?", he begins to explain and you nod your head quickly, your eyes flying back up to meet his. "They do that for me too. But sometimes… sometimes they get a little painful too. It really hurts, peach."

"I- Is there anything I can do to help you? I don’t want you to be in pain. Teyam, I’m so sorry!" Your voice begins to tremble a little, feeling like you were the cause of his pain hurt your heart a lot.

"Oh don’t be sorry, peach. You know I love kissing you", to prove his point, he kisses the corner of your mouth before he continues hesitantly, "Actually, there is something you could do to help me, but…"

"I‘ll do it! I‘ll help you feel better!", you cut him off immediately. Whatever it was, you would do it. Anything to make your dearest friend feel better. You were such a pure soul, it warmed Neteyams heart. But at the same time, made it incredibly difficult for him to hold back any longer.

"Okay, peach I need you to sit back a little, can you do that?" Quickly, you scooped back enough for him to untie his loincloth. Your eyes were wide and curious to see what caused him so much pain. You swallowed thickly at the sight, when Neteyam had finally undressed himself. You didn’t say anything for a while and neither did he. You were just looking. Transfixed.

You weren’t stupid. You knew that Neteyam was a male and you were a female, you knew that what you had between your thighs was different from what the men had between theirs, you just didn’t expect it to be this much of a difference. A big difference, might you add.

Neteyam silently watches you for a moment, until your gaze wanders back up to his eyes again. "T-This is where it hurts?", you ask carefully, voice barely above a whisper. "Hmh", Neteyam hums, "It will stop hurting if I touch it."

You weren’t sure why he was waiting then. If that was all it would take, he should just touch it. You give him a slow nod, "And what should I do?"

"Just… just watch, okay? It would help me a lot if you’d just sit there and be my pretty girl."

Neteyams heart thrums faster in his chest when you give him a soft smile. You were just happy to be able to help your friend out, there really weren’t any other dirty thoughts you had in mind. Unlike him. And that made him even harder.

"Spit", he tells you, holding his hand out right under your chin and you draw your eyebrows together questioningly. "I need you to spit in my palm, peach." Both of your eyebrows rise at his words, like you couldn’t believe the things he expected of you. But you didn’t question him any further. Neteyam was smart. He probably knew what he was doing, you thought and then did as you were told. You couldn’t help the way your cheeks turned a little pink, watching the big droplet of spit fall from your tongue and onto his palm. You couldn’t deny it– this felt weird. But it seemingly made Neteyam happy and that in turn made you happy too.

Slowly, he closes his fist around his shaft, maintaining eye contact with you. You see the way his breathing hitches when he begins to stroke himself, slow and firm and your gaze lands between his legs again. You watch the way he closes his fist just a little tighter when it reaches the tip, his thumb teases over the little slit there and he shudders.

One of Neteyams hands comes up to cup your cheek, holding your face as you carefully watch every movement.

"Do you love me?", he asks. His voice was low and his thumb gently traced the outline of your bottom lip. You nod quickly.

"Use your words, peach. You know I want to hear you say it."

"Of course I love you, Teyam", you tell him with a big smile, your cheeks rising enough to make you squint a little.

He strokes himself faster now, his pace increasing while his other hand caressed the soft skin of your cheek.

"Are you feeling better?" You tilt your head curiously. The tip seemed a little swollen and red and there was some sort of clear liquid that came out of it. He caught some of it with his thumb, before it spilled over, and then used it to stroke himself, just like he did with your spit.

"Hm, just a little", he tells you breathlessly, "But I could really use some help, you know? Be my good girl and help me with this, yes?"

Neteyam then reached for your hands and you willingly let him guide you. With his hand on top of yours, he wraps them around it. It’s incredibly warm, hard and heavy in your hands and you can’t help but squeeze him a little just to know how it felt like. Neteyam groans and you’re about to apologize, but when you look back up at him, there’s not a hint of pain or discomfort on his features. Guiding you hands, he slides them up and down firmly.

"That’s it, stroke my cock like that, okay? Hmh, you’re already making me feel so much better, peach. Love you so much." You blush at his words, happy that you were able to make him feel better so quickly and you eagerly continued. Neteyam taught you how fast you had to stroke, how much pressure to add and that you had to use some spit once in a while, otherwise it wouldn’t feel as good. Your hands barely wrapped around his cock, so you used both of them at some point, earning a very audible moan from him.

You watched very carefully how his breathing increased over time, how his cock twitched and throbbed in your palms and sometimes his eyes fluttered closed when you stroked him just a little faster. You thought you were doing a pretty good job and couldn’t deny that you were super proud of yourself.

"Oh shit", Neteyam cursed under his breathe when you teased the slit on it’s head with your thumb, "You’re amazing, making me feel so fucking good, peach. You’re just my good girl, aren’t you? So pretty too, look at you stroking my cock– haa, fuck." Your face blushes deeply at his praise.

Neteyams cock was glistening in a mix of pre-cum and spit and it slowly becomes incredibly difficult for you to keep a firm grip on him. It was slippery and wet and when you couldn’t maintain a quick pace, you felt him thrust into your fist. His hips were rising off the ground just a little and then he would wrap his own hands around yours again to guide them. Neteyams eyes were transfixed on the way your soft hands moved at just the right pace with his help now, up and down, squeezing the tip with just enough pressure to make him moan. You were a little clumsy at first, but like everything else you did, you quickly became so perfectly good in it.

"I love you so much, peach. Fuck. Just– Just a little more, keep stroking and I’m gonna feel so, so much better…" You watch the muscles on his abdomen and thighs flex between breathless pants, a thin layer of sweat covering every inch of his skin.

Neteyams reaches out for you then, gently pulling you closer with his hand on your neck before he crushes your lips together. You lean into the kiss, let your eyes flutter close as you push your tongue past his lips just like he had taught you. You keep pumping your hand, squeezing the tip at just the right pressure and Neteyam moans into the kiss.

Warmth floods your belly when his tongue curls around yours and both of your salvias mix. His cock twitches and stiffens even more and then Neteyam groans loud against your lips. He breaks the kiss, letting his head fall back against the tree he was sitting on with a thud. His abs tense and he shudders as thick, white spurts of his cum shot out and land on your hands and parts of your tummy.

You gasp a little, taken aback from whatever had just happened– but the content hum that came from Neteyam told you, that you probably did everything right.

"A-Are you feeling a little better now?", you ask him again, carefully. Neteyam still hadn’t moved from his position, but a smile spread across his lips. "Hmh, very much so", he mumbled. It took him a few moments, before he opened his eyes again to look back at you.

What he saw when he opened them, was probably the best fucking sight he had ever laid his eyes upon. You were still sitting in his lap, your hands had already left his cock as you were now staring down at yourself, probably wondering what was coating parts of your perfect skin.

Neteyam sat up a little straighter now. He scooped up some of his cum, that had landed on your stomach, with his thumb. "Open your mouth."

You happily obliged, even sticking your tongue out without questioning him further. It was rewarded by a low hum and a wide grin of Neteyam and you thought that he would maybe kiss you or something, but he then brushed his thumb off on your tongue, smearing the sticky mess on it. When you closed your mouth again, you could taste his cum on your tongue, warm and a little bitter and you couldn’t help but grimace slightly. Neteyam chuckled at that.

"You’re so adorable, peach. Love you so much, thank you for making me feel better today", he thanked you by pulling you closer in his lap, not caring for the way his cum smeared between both of your bellies as you hugged each other tightly.

"Love you too, Teyam. That’s what good friends do, right?"

"Special friends, yes."

#avatar 2 #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #neteyam sully #awow #neteyam #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam smut #atwow neteyam #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut

[myfictionaldreams]

Overwhelming // Mafia!Stucky x fem!Reader

Summary: It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.

Prompt: How would the boys help Reader through a subdrop?

Requested by: @southern-goth​ (thank you so much for the request! And for the amazing header that I’ve included in your previous request, I love it!)

Tags: sfw, polyamory, subdrop, dom/sub relationship, mentions of rough sex, fluff, hurt/comfort, aftercare (lots!!), soft steve & bucky, crying/anxiety, size difference, pet names, praising, kissing

Words: 2.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The night was filled with restless tossing and turning from the edge of the bed. There was nothing in particular that you could definitely pinpoint as the reason for the unease but you saw every hour of the night.

Even as Bucky’s warm, solid body found yours across the bed, his mind still deep within the sleep world, he still enveloped himself around you. Normally, the strong beat of his heart against your ear, even his natural musk would be enough to make you feel safe and relaxed in your own peaceful sleep.

However as the clock ticked to 04:30 am, all hope was lost for the land of rest and as you found yourself needing to turn in Bucky’s arms once more, the decision was made. Carefully, as to not wake the sleeping gang member, you inched out from underneath his metal arm, gently laying it back down on the bed.

Stretching out your body, you had to refrain from sighing, for no reason in particular. There was a heavy feeling settled through the centre of your chest, making your body feel heavy and weighted, almost making it an effort to even find the energy to stand.

But you pushed yourself to stand, needing to move and shake off whatever feeling had been disturbing your sleep. Deciding to go and make a coffee, you gave one last glance at the two men still sleeping, usually feeling a happy calm at being able to witness them both look so peaceful. However, your gut twisted, a lump forming in your throat that took a moment to pass.

Exiting the bedroom, your steps were slow and dragging along the carpet. Confused as to why you were feeling upset, almost like there was a rain cloud hovering over your head.

Waiting for the coffee to heat, your mind began to wonder, trying to deduce what might be wrong but in reality, you were already aware, it had just never been this impactful before.

It had been your birthday a few days ago, Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party however, it was the nighttime activities that might have been the cause for your emotions. Not only were you the centre of attention during the fucking but it had been long, intense, mind-blowing sex that left you begging for more, of which your boyfriends were happy to oblige.

The mental headspace that a session like that gave you felt almost euphoric, nothing could be negative, even falling into a little bit of subspace following it, giving the sensation of floating, like being drunk. Then a couple of hours later with the unbalance of hormones (something Bucky had to explain), it would feel like depression with how low your mood would go as you experienced a subdrop. Luckily you were never far from the boys who regularly checked in on you anyway to give the support you desperately needed.

Concluding that this was the cause for how you were feeling, you should have contemplated waking either one of your boyfriends but the shame seemed to overpower any rational thought. You were your own worst enemy during these subdrops and the added exhaustion that was influencing your body, it was a toxic pair.

Steve and Bucky had made the weekend so incredibly special for you, every moment had a smile permanently stitched to your face so for it all to come crashing down and be this needy, depressed person, you were embarrassed and ashamed. The feeling would pass, and it always did so making the decision to just suck it up and keep it to yourself, they’d already done so much for you.

As you poured the now steaming hot coffee into the cup, you heard the recognisable sound of heavy footsteps approaching from behind and rather than being excited and giddy which was usually your reaction to your boyfriends, the heavy sensation only increased in your chest.

Unbeknownst to Steve, he padded into the kitchen, smiling upon seeing you with fresh coffee. Walking up behind your much shorter body, his hands cupped your hips, gently pulling you back into his muscular build, his handsome face dropping to give a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Good morning baby”, his voice was thick with sleep, croaking slightly. Trying to play along with it, leaning into his warmth, even though you wanted to run away and cry so he couldn’t see.

“Morning”.

As Steve spoke, he manoeuvred around you, finding his own cup to pour coffee into. “You’re up early, how are you feeling this morning?” his question was innocent but it caused your heart to pound.

“I’m fine”, you were thinking coherent thoughts to be able to think of an excuse for being up so early, usually being the last to rise. “How are you? Are you off to the gym?” referring to his attire and it wasn’t like he was travelling far with the homemade gym in the basement.

A subtle frown momentarily crossed over his expression at the monotone way you were answering his questions but he shrugged it away, you would tell him if something was wrong, putting it down to tiredness. “Yeah, need to work off some of the cake from this weekend”, he joked, a twinkle forming in his eye. “After that, I’m all yours”.

“I had you all weekend”, you were quick to take a drink of your coffee, even as it was too hot and slightly scorched your tongue. Steve squinted at you in curiosity, noting your flat tone once more.

“You can have me every second of every day if that makes you happy” he admitted softly, brushing his lips against your forehead. It did make you happy but with the mood you were in, you felt selfish and guilty for this. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m just tired, I might go back to bed”, this was a lie but he seemed to accept it, kissing your cheek once more for comfort and then heading off towards the gym. Finally being on your own, and getting what you wanted it would be an assumption to presume this would make you feel any better but it only made you feel worse. Not realising just how much you were depending on his warmth and the coolness returning to your skin as you sulked into the living room, turning on the TV to a random channel, not paying attention at all.

No, instead you stared into space, holding one of the decorative cushions to your body to try and fill the void that was aching your chest but this of course did nothing. The longer you were awake, the worst you were continuing to feel, emotionally and physically.

It was almost like being hungover, the anxiety that follows a heavy drinking session and the fatigue from the effects of alcohol, except there was no alcohol involved and you were feeling all of these effects just from a hormone imbalance.

As you continued to sit in your pity, Bucky had begun to descend the stairs in joggers and a white shirt, following the noise of the TV to find you sitting on the couch. He didn’t say a single word or notice the off-mood and simply reached your head over the back of the couch, tipping it back to peck your lips.

His touch had caused you to jump slightly having been lost in your thoughts and not heard him approaching but he was already walking into the kitchen, probably to pour his own morning drink, like he did every morning.

As if right on queue, the hulking form of the brunette returned to your eye line, smiling before taking a sip of his black coffee as he sat next to you. “What are you watching, mama?”

The lump had returned to your throat so instead of answering him, you shrugged your shoulders, not even looking at the TV, knuckles adding to the discomfort with how aggressively you held onto the pillow as if it was your lifeline.

Bucky wasn’t stupid, he knew were off the moment he saw you on the sofa, alone. Even without the glazed-over look in your eyes or the tension in your shoulders, he had known you for long enough to know what was going on. Carefully placing his cup onto the small table between the TV and the couch, Bucky sighed in frustration. Not that you were in this situation, but because you hadn’t come to him or Steve, wishing your anxiety would understand that they wanted to help and wouldn’t be annoyed or aggravated by you just simply needing them more than other days.

It was half expected anyway following the weekend, that's why Steve and Bucky had made sure that they were home today rather than in the office, making sure only to be contacted in case of emergency.

Not that this had even crossed your mind at all this morning, in fact, if asked, you couldn’t name what day it was in the week because all that consumed your mind was the hope for Bucky to get up and leave. Hope that he would find something he actually enjoyed doing instead of wasting another hour with you.

Of course, this was ridiculous thinking and if Bucky truly knew what was going through your self-sabotaged thoughts, he would probably sit you down for three hours and rant about how absurd and untrue this was.

“How are you feeling after the birthday weekend, it was slightly intense wasn’t it?” he asked casually, not taking his eyes off you for even a second.

“A bit”, was your only answer.

He continued to try and ask questions, hoping to draw some kind of a reaction of out you to engage just how severe this subdrop was and so far, it wasn’t looking that positive. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

Again, he referred to the activities from the weekend. Your response was half a shake of the head to say no but that was mostly for his benefit, desperate to not have him feeling bad because, in reality, your body was aching. Especially between your legs and upper arms from where they held you in a firm grip. It wasn’t like they hadn’t prepped but they were so much bigger than you, it always felt a little uncomfortable the day after and yesterday, you’d been begging for them to keep going, thriving in the pain mixed with pleasure. However now as the arousal was swept from your body, and feeling as fatigued as you did, it only emphasised the areas that were especially sensitive.

Judging by your demeanour, he contemplated continuing talking to you, to better understand the stand-offish behaviour but with the slight tremble rocking your body, this wasn’t what you needed.

Bucky instead opted to reach for the pillow, attempting to pull it away but you held on tightly, muttering that it was comfortable. The brunette didn’t relent, however, putting a little more strength until the pillow was firmly in his grip and being placed on the table.

Without missing a beat, Bucky was gently pulling on your arms, coaxing you into his lap. Before you could even straddle his hips, you began to sob, the emotions finally overwhelming you.

Grasping his shirt tightly, you cried heavily into Bucky’s t-shirt and he just held you, running his warm hand up and down your spine in slow circles whilst his metal hand rested on the back of your head.

You cried and cried until completely exhausted and only hiccups remained, eyes now sore and Bucky’s t-shirt soaked. Your boyfriend hadn’t asked you any further questions, he didn’t need to, having been right about his theory, Bucky knew you just needed to be close and present with him and Steve once he returned from the gym.

“You’re safe mama, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere, I love you”. Bucky repeated these four statements repeatedly, over and over until his mouth was dry and even then continued until his fists loosed the grip of his t-shirt.

“I know you’re going to be feeling some negative emotions right now Doll but I need you to listen to me and believe what I’m saying. We love you, this feeling is going to pass and we’ll be right next to you the entire time.”

Bucky’s words did help to break down that mental barrier but now you were completely exhausted.

“What we are going to do first is go upstairs, I’m going to run you a hot bath then we’ll have some food, maybe have a midday nap, we can watch a movie or play a game. We are going to take today slowly but we’re not leaving your side, not until you’re feeling better, ok?”

With your eyes closed, you were only able to nod against his chest in response. His list of activities sounded perfect, the desire to run away having completely disappeared now which you were thankful for but it was only replaced with the sensation to be cradled to his body. 

Luckily for you, Bucky knew this and was more than happy to mostly carry you up the stairs and into the master bathroom, settling you into the bathtub, and helping to discard your clothes before filling it up with water hot enough to relax your tense muscles. Bucky himself didn’t climb into the bath, instead sat on the floor, stroking his fingers across your head exactly how you liked it, smiling as your furrowed brows relaxed.

You could have fallen asleep right there and then, until Steve’s voice was drifting into your ears as he stood at the bathroom door, sweat dripping from his brow. “Everything ok?”

For the first time that day, you properly looked at Bucky, feeling slightly anxious at the thought of him having to tell Steve about the subdrop. But your boyfriend was quick to swipe away the negativity as he said in a low voice, “Remember what I said downstairs? About the list of activities, we’re doing today? Well Stevie here is going to take my place here and I’ll go and cook us some brunch, how does that sound?”

Surprisingly, the corner of your lips lifted into a subtle smile. Bucky beamed at this, the corner of his eyes creasing with the joy he was displaying before he reached across the kiss the tip of your nose and speak to Steve.

You couldn’t hear what was said but Steve was soon joining you in the bathroom and you sat and watched silently as he took off his gym attire. “Enjoying the view baby?” he asked teasingly before helping you to sit forward, giving him room to sit behind you in the water, eagerly pulling your body back to rest against his. “I love you” he whispered as he held you tightly.

If you weren’t so exhausted, you probably would have cried at even that smallest statement because it was all you wanted to hear.

Turning slightly in his embrace, once again you didn’t feel like talking, even though you wanted to repeat your love to him just as much as you had wanted to with Bucky, the words seemed to fail you. So instead you lay your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat thumping against your ear. Steve understood your intentions, knew these little signs that showed your vulnerability and made sure to tighten his grip slightly, making you feel enclosed more.

Unsure of how much time had passed, Steve eventually had to move the two of you to make sure you were both washed before the water cooled too much. Then once out of the water, he didn’t waste any time helping to dry your body in a large cream towel, dressing you in oversized pyjamas before even starting to care for himself. As the two of you returned downstairs, Bucky announced that brunch was nearly finished and from the smell, it was going to be delicious.

Throughout the entire time, you were attached to either Steve or Bucky, whether that was holding a hand or sitting on either of their laps and they made sure you didn’t do any chores such as washing up. It was important that you rested when feeling this low so straight after finishing the food, they situated into the living room, finding the TV still on from earlier.

You weren’t particularly bothered with whatever movie was selected. No, you were more distracted by the hulky sandwich they’d somehow squashed you into. Your legs were thrown over Steve’s lap, head laying on his shoulder and Bucky was spooning you from behind, it felt like there wasn’t one part of your body that wasn’t touching both of them and you loved it, not even needing a blanket to feel secure in.

Sleep came peacefully now, the ache in your chest having eased after all the comfort you’d been given. Your last thoughts before succumbing fully to sleep were how thankful you were to Steve and Bucky, looking forward to waking up with more energy so you could show them just how much you really loved them.

#mafia au #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky barnes #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky banes fanfic #mine* #bucky #marvel one shot #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut

[choicesholidays]

Valentine's Day Prompts 2024

Welcome to Choices Holidays Valentine's Day prompts! This event will run from February 1st through February 15th, 2024.

This is open to all choices fandoms. It’s open to fan artists as well as fanfic writers.

Below are fourteen prompts meant to inspire some stories and/or artwork, mood boards, etc. Use these less as word-for-word prompts and more as a general theme (of course, you are welcome to use them word-for-word if you like). Let your imaginations run wild!

You may submit your work at any time during the event. Submissions will be reblogged as they come in. A complete master list will be posted after the end of the event.

All creative endeavors are welcomed: Fics, art, edits, mood boards, whatever you’re inspired to create!

The Rules:

Use one of the prompts, however loosely (Any Valentines Day themed creation is welcome really, just use the general "Valentine's Day" prompt).

Tell us in the header what fandom your characters are from.

Tag @choicesprompts <- This part is very important! It ensures that your story gets seen, reblogged, and added to the master list at the end of the event.

Use the hashtags #choicespromts and #valentinesday2024

Post/submit by the deadline.

Deadline is February 15th, 2024 11:59 p.m. CST

Be sure you tag @choicesholidays #choicesholidays, and #valentinesday2024 for reblogging and inclusion on the master list at the end of the event.

Please feel free to reach out to this blog or @angelasscribbles with any questions, concerns, or suggestions.

Prompts are under the cut.

First date

First kiss

But I can’t dance…..

I know my brother/sister is your ex, but if you’ll just listen….

Last kiss

This isn’t remotely romantic, but I still wouldn’t want to be anywhere else

I don’t want to ruin our friendship but I can’t keep my feelings a secret a moment longer

Be my fake date for a wedding?

I’ve been expressly forbidden from seeing you. However…..

You’re the most toxic person I’ve ever met and honestly I can’t get enough.

Good girl/Bad boy or Good boy/bad girl

Would you shut up for a minute? I’ve never proposed to anyone before!

Okay, we stole all the valentine’s cards….now what?

Be my valentine/I love you

Alternatively, feel free to use any of last year's prompts as well. You can find those here.

#choicesholidays #valentinesday2024 #valentines day #prompt list #choices

[cacoetheswriting]

pearl: may / june 1984

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.7k summary: eddie comes to terms with his feelings, pushing you away in the process.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, oblivious idiots in love, emotional hurt / comfort, self-doubt / insecurities, mentions of recreational drug use, physical violence / blood / description of injuries (eddie gets into a fight) - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely, if at all, in the story.

pearl masterlist

“Are you decent? I’ve got something very important to discuss with you,” you call through Eddie’s bedroom door, hoping he can sense the urgency in your voice, then wait patiently for him to let you in. 

There’s shuffling inside, slight thuds and clattering of random objects, followed by Eddie cursing. A smirk escapes your lips as you picture him, hair wild, scrambling through his mess of a bedroom. When he eventually opens the door, he leans against the frame quite breathless.

“Hey, princess.”

“What the hell were you doing in here?” You ask with a raised brow and squeeze past him, ignoring the nickname he swore he’d never use again.

The metalhead nervously clears his throat, running a hand through his already messy curls. He closes the door slowly as your eyes dart across the space, landing on a stack of what you can only deduct to be pornographic magazines hastily hidden under his Hellfire t-shirt. Oh, you swallow your breath.

Hovering over the edge of his bed, not really wanting to sit as the realisation for his awkward behaviour dawns on you, you glance in your best friend's direction. It’s not like you’ve never talked about sex and stuff together, Eddie was your best friend after all and no topic was off the table. But the thought of you interrupting him mid… act, was frankly a little unsettling. Especially since lately, your stupid mind has been running wild when it came to Eddie. It felt a little pervy. And now you are doing your best to stop the not-so-speculatory image of what he was doing here just seconds ago from formulating in your brain.

The boy turns on his heel, facing you, and plasters a smile on his face, also trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

“So, what brings you to my humble abode?” Eddie wonders, “What did you want to discuss with me?”

“Graduation,” you say simply, because a) there’s no point in beating around the bush any longer, and b) it seems much easier than having an awkward conversation around Eddie masturbating before you interfered.

Your best friend sighs and walks towards his desk, slumping down in the chair with a dramatic huff. There is a rather unsettling moment of silence during which Eddie reaches for a box with his stash and begins to roll a joint as you observe him closely.

“The actual thing is next Saturday afternoon, which you already know,” you eventually continue, fidgeting with the edge of your skirt, “And my parents want you and Wayne to come to dinner after. We’re just doing it at the house, it’s not going to be anything big so no need to fret.”

He stays silent, focused on what he’s doing.

You exhale softly.

“Then our summer of fun begins. You remember that silly bucket list we made when we first got high together? I’m thinking it could be fun to cross some things off of it before… you know…”

“Before you leave,” he finishes your sentence while looking up at you, a sad expression circling his features.

“Right,” you concur, “And that’s actually why I’m here.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s tense. He’s trying his best to hide it, but you can tell he’s on edge. Probably trying to anticipate what the next words to come out of your mouth will be. 

“Yeah. I wanted to ask if you’d be up for helping me move. We can have a little road trip, doesn’t that sound like fun?” The sound of your voice is hopeful. His response isn’t quite what you had expected though.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, princess.”

“Why?” You probe, stringing your brows together.

Eddie exhales.

He usually doesn’t think before he speaks, but this time it seems important that he does. He’s sure he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings with the way he phrases his explanation ‘cause that would be even worse than saying no to you.

And while he’s thinking, you’re borderline bouncing in your spot with anticipation.

“Because saying goodbye to you is going to be hard enough,” Eddie finally admits, “I don’t think I can handle leaving you in the place you’re going to call home for the next four years and then drive back to Hawkins all by myself.” 

Your face falls. He’s quick to notice your reaction because he drops the half-finished joint and pushes the chair in your direction. He stands and rests his hands on your shoulders, but dips his head slightly so that the two of you would be at the same eye level.

“Look, I know it’s selfish of me—”

“No, no,” you interrupt, hands reaching for where he’s holding you, “I get it. Don’t worry about it.”

You're disappointed. He’s upset. Totally not how you saw this conversation going. 

The last couple of weeks have been hard enough as the two of you navigated around the topic of your impending departure and you were foolish enough to think him being the one to see you last, help you get settled and maybe even stay with you a couple of days, would be a good idea. A way of making things a little more normal.

Eddie gently grabs your chin, essentially forcing you to meet his pretty perfect chocolate gaze. And you're desperately trying not to show how much all of this is affecting you. Honestly, you're just trying not to cry, hating the effect his doe-eyes have on you, but the metalhead makes it just that little bit tougher when he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours and sighing softly.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his breath hitting against your skin, “You deserve better.”

You shake your head against him and brush some of the loose brown curls behind his ear before placing the palm of your hand against his cheek. Eddie leans into your touch instinctively, feeling better if only for a split-second. He continues to stare at you, waiting for you to say whatever it is that got you to shake your head, but you stay silent. 

For the longest time, you simply look at him like you want to say something, anything to make both of you feel better, but you can’t seem to find the right words. He’s none the wiser either. The only thing that springs to mind is a sentence that is bound to make the situation worse: “Don’t leave me, princess.”.

And then you know. A timid smile circling your lips as you pull away slightly, reaching for his hands ‘cause that’s exactly how friends behave, right?

“Through all kinds of weather, through everything we done,” your voice is a mere whisper and for a split-second, you're not even sure Eddie hears you.

Then he huffs out a laugh. He knows exactly what you're quoting.

“Are you trying to say I’m your Bobby McGee?”

“Perhaps.”

The metalhead chuckles. His arm makes way around your neck and he pulls you into a warm embrace. You instantly bury your face in his dark locks, inhaling the smell of his cheap shampoo. And for a moment, all is good in the world. Until Eddie does something unexpected. He places a quick yet tender kiss onto your shoulder and the feeling of his lips on your skin sends a shiver down your spine. 

Unexpectedly, a large part of you is hoping he’d do that again, perhaps do something more, but you bite the inside of your cheek, forcing the thoughts to dissipate ‘cause this wasn’t the time or place to explore the sudden tingle you felt as his lips brushed against your skin.

Although, as always, Eddie makes things difficult.

“You know the lyrics insinuate the protagonists of the song were lovers,” he teases while pulling away from your hug. He reaches for the joint he was working on moments before and continues, “Do you think of me as your lover, princess? Can’t say I wasn’t expecting this turn of events and I also can't say I’m not flattered.”

You roll your eyes, giggling. 

“The nudie magazines aren’t doin’ it for you anymore, hot shot?”

His gaze follows yours to the stack you noticed earlier and his face flushes red as you continue to laugh light-heartedly.

“Well, nothing beats human contact, princess.” Eddie tries to brush off your comment while also taking control of the conversation and extends his arm into your field of vision. “Lick this for me, why don’t ya.”

You oblige him although hesitantly. Partially because you're a little intimidated by the way he’s looking at you now, an inkling in his eyes that you haven’t seen before — the pretty brown now darker around the edges. However, mainly because recently there’s something about him asking to lick down the paper of a joint you're going to share together that makes your stomach flutter and you’re certain that’s not a good sign.

And every time you do this, you can feel Eddie watching your every move. Watching as your tongue slides along the thin card, fingers brushing against his and zapping him with such intensity he swears he could survive being electrocuted, (if that ever happened). Totally platonic behaviour.

But it’s not though. He knows that, even if unfortunately you’re currently none the wiser. And Eddie feels wrong for manipulating situations, making them end up in his favour. He just can’t help himself because at the end of the day, it’s easier than admitting how his feelings towards you have changed over the last number of weeks.

He once again thinks you deserve better, though this time, already knowing the outcome, he doesn’t say the words out loud. Instead, as you pull back and sit on the edge of his bed, eyes never leaving him for a second, he offers you a smile.

“I hope you know I’ll always be your Bobby,” Eddie says while delicately rolling over the thin paper, “Even if you make other friends in college and forget all about me, I’ll always be your Bobby.”

He means it. You can tell.

“I could never forget about you, Eds.”

You mean it. He can tell.

-

Unfortunately, at some point in time between that one afternoon in May and the graduation which he only got to attend as a guest, Eddie started to spiral. Even worse, he began to neglect his friendship with you, mere days after promising he was always going to be there for you.

And at some point in time between him rejecting your road trip offer and the graduation dinner he dipped from early, without saying goodbye, you stopped trying to figure out why. 

Not like Eddie could blame you. He was acting pretty lousy for someone that was supposed to be your best friend. Which, if he was being honest with himself, that was precisely the issue. Between the end of May and beginning of June, Eddie realised he perhaps didn’t want to be that anymore. Perhaps, he wanted more. He just knew he couldn’t have more. For one, saying anything to you now would be seriously bad timing and also have potentially terrible consequences. So instead, he distanced himself like a jackass. 

Days without contact. The longest of his life. And Eddie thought the pattern of avoidance would continue for the remainder of the summer. That was until he overheard some lousy jock talking about a date he went on with the girl of his dreams, jealousy ignited itself inside him and he couldn’t just stand on the sidelines anymore.

Normally, Eddie wasn’t one for physical confrontation with Hawkins’ most popular, but the dude was being all sorts of crude and misogynistic. Talking about how dope you looked in the mini skirt you apparently wore, and how he really just wanted to take you down to Lovers Lake and— Well, the rest doesn’t really matter. The guy didn’t get to utter the words anyway because Eddie's fist collided with his face in a flash. 

3 against 1. An unfair fight, if you asked for the metalhead’s opinion.

There was swelling above Eddie's right eye and his nose was most likely broken. Clothes ripped and torn in various places, knuckles bruised. His side hurt, as did his abdomen. Blood was slowly dripping down his face. In short, he was a gory mess.

“Hey,” Eddie manages to mumble as you open your front door. 

A gasp escapes your lips, undoubtedly at the sight before you, but also ‘cause the metalhead stumbles forwards, falling into your arms and you barely manage to support his body weight.

One arm made its way around the curly-haired teen and he winced in pain. You guide him to the couch and help him sit before disappearing without a single word. While you're gone, Eddie slowly takes off his vest and jacket, throwing them to the side while doing his best to contain the groans that formed at the back of his throat.

Within a few minutes, you're back by his side with a first aid kit. You remain silent, avoiding his wandering gaze. Instead, with a rather shaky hand, you proceed to wipe his face and Eddie's eyeing you from under his locks, heart hammering inside his chest since this is the first time you have seen each other in over a week and it’s clearly not under the best of circumstances.

The bleeding had slowed to barely a trickle. You disregard the cloth and finally meet his gaze.

“What the hell happened, Eddie?”

He sighs but can’t seem to come up with a coherent answer. When after a moment he doesn't say anything, you grab the distilled water. 

“This is going to sting,” you warn and begin to gently dab around his eye. Eddie could feel the swelling had only gotten worse and judging by the concerned look on your face, he knew it was an inevitable black eye. Not to mention his nose and the other parts of his body that throbbed in pain.

“I should probably take you to the hospital.”

Chewing down on your bottom lip, you lightly brush the loose strands of his hair away from his face, the pieces which aren't stuck to his skin due to the blood anyway. Eddie doesn't really think, just grabs your hands and kisses your fingers.

“I’m sorry, princess.”

“Don’t be sorry. Tell me what happened.”

“I’m not proud of it.” 

You exhale, freeing yourself from his grasp, and Eddie's frozen in place, instantly missing the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. He swears they’re on fire, not from being battered and bruised, but from the delicate sensation that were the kisses he just placed along your joints.

“Did I do something wrong?”

That’s when he’s forced to discard his current thoughts, eyes jolting from the ground to meet yours once again. You stand, flattening your top before nervously crossing and uncrossing your arms, waiting for him to answer and hoping he wasn’t going to break your heart — which was already aching from his lack of contact over the last week.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve just been so distant, not acting like yourself, and the only rational explanation is that I did something to upset you.”

Eddie's on his feet in a flash. He rests the palms of his hands on your shoulders and dip his head, forcing you to continue holding his gaze.

“This is all on me, princess. I’ve just had a lot on my mind and I don’t really know how to talk to you about it so I—. Look, those assholes today were asking for it. That’s all.”

He half expects you to say something along the lines of: “But we talk about everything.”. You don't and he's grateful, not ready to tell you how he’s been feeling about you. Instead, you reach out to hold his face then force a weak smile.

“Blood looks good on you,” you tease to lighten the mood and Eddie's heart does a somersault. “Just do me a favour and don’t get into any more fights this summer, okay? I don’t want to spend my last few weeks with you constantly visiting the E.R.”

He chuckles. “Promise, princess.”

“Good,” you say and drop your hold on him. “Now let me grab your jacket and let’s go to the hospital. I definitely think your nose is broken and judging by the way you winced earlier, we should also ask the doctors to check if your ribs are intact.”

“At least we can listen to Pearl in the car.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at him, though unable to conceal a smile.

Eddie’s grinning now. “But you love me.”

pearl masterlist

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in a part two / this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x reader #bestfriend!eddie #bestfriend!eddie x reader #pearl (eddies version) #eddie munson story

[your-world-with-nct]

polaroid love | njm (1)

ONE — ooh, someone’s got a cruuush!

<- BACK | MENU | NEXT ->

PAIRING | na jaemin x female reader (ft. nct dream + enhypen 02z)

GENRE | fluff, angst, college au

WARNINGS | intended lowercase, cursing, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, stem student slander

WORD COUNT | 2.5k

SUMMARY | inspired by enhypen’s ‘polaroid love’ — in his twenty-two years of living, na jaemin has never been in a proper relationship. after witnessing his best friends go through their fair share of complicated, devastating heartbreaks, jaemin decided he was better off investing his time and effort into his studies, rather than wasting his time falling in love. years of having fleeting crushes and being countlessly confessed to passed by and not a single person could tempt jaemin into the world of love. that is, until, he meets someone that he can’t get out of his head no matter how long he stares at his anatomy textbooks. someone that reminds him of the hopeless romantic he once was. someone that can show him that love doesn’t have to be so complicated to succeed.

A/N | i’ve been waiting for the day to put this out and here it is!! i hope you guys enjoy this first part and look forward to the rest of the series :) feedback is always appreciated and please reply to this post or send an ask to be added to the taglist <3

FIC PLAYLIST LINK | click here to enhance your reading experience!

HEADER KEY | • REC -> a character’s point of view | ■ GALLERY -> a flashback from that character’s point of view

JAEMIN CAM • REC

“jaem, food’s here, you can finish that later,” jaemin looked up from his computer after countless hours of meticulous editing to see jeno leaning against the doorframe, impatiently tapping his foot.

“mmm, yeah, be right there,” jaemin hummed, with absolutely no intention of getting up within the next few seconds.

jeno rolled his eyes at his housemate. he knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t be moving from his desk any time soon, “hmph, okay, but hurry up or renjun and haechan’ll beat you to the couch and you know you get all huffy when you have to sit on the floor.”

“i don’t get huffy,” jaemin scoffed, shutting off his computer and getting up from his chair, momentarily holding onto it for balance as he’d underestimated just how long he’d been glued to it, “i’m not getting up because you said that, i’m getting up because i don’t want the terrible two to take my favourite soju flavours before i get there and leave me the strawberry one.”

jeno chuckled as he signalled for jaemin to snag their spots on the living room sofa whilst their other housemates finished laying out the pizza and chicken they’d ordered.

once haechan had stopped complaining about how he deserved the best spot since he paid for the food, the four friends sat down and enjoyed their delicious meal accompanied by whatever show jeno had come across whilst flipping through channels. four full stomachs and five empty soju bottles later, the boys piled together messily on the couch, their drunk conversations drowning out the sound of the show playing and reducing it to background noise.

“soooo, lee jeno, are we not gonna talk about the guest you brought home last night?” renjun teased, rubbing his flushed cheeks against his best friend’s side.

“ahh, well, what was her name again–”

“you forgot her name?” an equally red jaemin sat up from haechan’s lap, his droopy eyes now wide open, “you brought her home and you don’t know her name?”

jeno slowly shook his head, lightly hitting jaemin’s chest, “calm down, she’s an international student and she has an english name so it was harder to remember… ah! it was lila, she was at the bar last night when the basketball game was on, and she seemed kinda bummed when the team she supported lost so–”

“you made her feel better about it by making her feel good blah blah blah, i don’t care about how you worked your charm, what i wanna know is why she practically ran out of here saying ‘i’m sorry’ over and over,” renjun said, earning himself a slap from jeno for both interrupting and exposing him.

“i was getting to that,” jeno huffed as he recalled this morning’s events, “well, uh, you see, when lila first came to korea she befriended… rina.”

“your ex rina?!” haechan’s high-pitched exclamation had the rest of the boys covering their ears with their hands.

“no, the waitress at the sushi restaurant rina,” jeno deadpanned, “of course, my ex rina! lila didn’t recognise me until this morning because, well, i-it was dark… and we, we weren’t exactly fully sober. but when she did, she pretty much left as soon as she could, saying that she felt awkward for getting with her closest friend’s ex and that she wasn’t gonna contact me again for the sake of their friendship.”

“damn.”

“that’s… unfortunate.”

“yikes.”

“i know,” jeno carelessly reached for another bottle of soju, taking a swig, “it’s rough.”

“you’re not the only one going through it,” renjun piped up, holding a shot glass in front of jeno’s bottle, gesturing to pour him some. after tipping the burning liquid down his throat, he sighed, “i stopped talking to chaeyeon, well, more like she stopped talking to me. she said she was never really that into me and that she just needed someone to entertain her for a bit so—”

snatching the bottle from jeno, renjun took another pitiful sip, the rest of the boys giving him sympathetic pats on the back or reassuring him that he’d find someone soon enough or maybe it was for the best.

“seems like none of us are having much luck with relationships lately,” haechan said, “i asked hyeyoon if she wanted to go on a third date any time soon and… she ghosted me.”

“oh dear,” jaemin winced, the second-hand embarrassment sending shivers down his spine. “renjun-ah, don’t hog that bottle, give hyuck some too,” he gripped the green bottle, lowering his voice, “come on, he needs this just as much as you do.”

he whined but gave in, handing the drink to his slightly more sober friend, “i assume you don’t have any news regarding your non-existent love life, jaem?”

“that’s meannnn, jun,” jeno lightly hit renjun again, this time for the snarky comment, “wait, jaem, what’s that face for? surely… no, it can’t be.”

the boy shrugged, the dreamy smile on his face completely unmoved. “well,” he paused to grab their attention, “there is this one girl…”

those words alone seemed to sober up jaemin’s best friends, as they all sat up, jaws agape and anticipating gazes on him. it was rare for jaemin to ever contribute to these conversations besides from providing emotional support or advice, so the mere mention of a girl on jaemin’s mind had piqued their interest. as he opened his mouth to continue, the boys simply hoped that it was going to be more than just another of his fleeting attractions.

JAEMIN CAM ■ GALLERY

“and remember, next week you’re gonna need a model for what we’re doing, so don’t forget to bring a friend along,” eunjin reminded the group before they all left, “ooh, and i’ll post a reminder on the club’s instagram story in case you’re super forgetful!”

jaemin whipped his phone out of his pocket, quickly typing the reminder ‘bring someone to photography club’ into his notes, already trying to figure out which of his friends would be the easiest to persuade to come along.

“ah, hyung, i’ll get going now, see you next thursday,” the enthusiastic second year engineering major jaemin had befriended waved goodbye to his senior, flashing a grin as he packed up his things and set off.

“see y– wait, jake! you almost left your camera bag,” jaemin called after him, handing him his belongings.“what’s got you in such a rush? you’d never leave your camera behind.”

the younger boy turned to retrieve his stuff, bowing to show his gratitude, “oh, thank you so much, hyung, i would’ve gone insane if i left this. my best friend’s waiting for me and she did not appreciate the extra time eunjin noona took at the end of the session–she’s impatient and hungry and it’s my turn to pay for dinner so if i don’t hurry up, i have to deal with a hangry y/n for longer than i’d like.”

“sim jaeyun! come on!” the voice of who jaemin assumed to be the ‘hangry y/n’ caught his attention, however, the annoying image he had envisioned in his head did not match up with the beauty he laid eyes on.

“calm down! i was just thanking jaemin hyung for giving me my camera back, which i wouldn’t have forgotten if you weren’t rushing me, geez,” jake rolled his eyes as he turned his back to you, mouthing a ‘see you’ to jaemin as he hurried to the door, “i’m coming, i’m coming!”

after packing away all of his equipment, jaemin set off on his way home, not forgetting to bow to eunjin on his way out.

“sorry, jakey, i just couldn’t wait,” he heard a much gentler version of the voice from before in front of him. looking up from his phone, jaemin recognised the two figures in front of him as the bickering best friends he’d encountered not even a few minutes ago.

“couldn’t wait to what? drain my bank account?” jake’s joking questions were met with complete silence, “oh, i see how it is!”

“kidding! i meant that i couldn’t wait to spend time with you now that you’re not busy with that big, mechanic… project, uh, thing. yes, i know what it’s called, i just don’t want to say all those long sciency words,” your whining brought a smile to jaemin’s face, having heard similar words from his own arts major friends.

his smile only grew as he crossed the road and saw you almost trip over the curb from laughing so hard at whatever jake had said next, too preoccupied by your joyous laughter and the way you beamed at your friend to have heard.

jaemin sighed as he looked on, wondering how fulfilling it would be to be the cause of that pretty smile or the reason behind your contagious giggles. or, to put it simply, he wondered how fulfilling it would be to loved.

JAEMIN CAM • REC

“na jaemin… are you joking,” haechan turned towards him, blinking slowly in disbelief at what he’d just heard, “another random crush that you saw for a few minutes and never again? we thought it was gonna be different this time, man.”

before jaemin could even defend himself, renjun seemed to have had some sort of epiphany, “woah, wait, slow your roll there, hyuck. i think our jaem might actually have a chance.”

“he does?”

“i do?” even jaemin was ready to admit that you were just another brief attraction, but hearing that he had even the slightest chance with you had his cheeks burning redder than ever, “c-could you elaborate?”

“i could… if you show us what this y/n looks like,” renjun cocked an eyebrow, holding his hand out to see if jaemin would accept his offer.

“wh-why would you wanna do that?” jaemin didn’t know if it was the drinks or the idea of his best friends potentially showing interest in you that had him fumbling over his words.

“calm down, we’re not gonna steal her from you,” jeno wrapped his arm around his shoulder, nuzzling into his side, “we wouldn’t do that to you, man, we’re just curious, that’s all.”

“mhm!” haechan chimed in, “we just wanna give her the best friend stamp of approval before we proceed.”

jaemin took a moment to consider his friends’ words, before retrieving his phone from the disgustingly messy table, “fine! but if any of you accidentally like any of her photos i swear i’m gonna… i’ll— i won’t be happy!”

the boys chuckled at their roommate’s sheer inability to get angry at them; his tolerance and kindness were just some of the things they loved about him, qualities they knew his future girlfriend would appreciate. they waited as jaemin opened instagram to find your page, haechan advising him to go through jake’s following to make it easier.

“what? like none of you have ever tried to stalk someone’s profile before,” haechan scoffed, leaning closer to the screen, “oh! right there, she’s tagged in his most recent post.”

clicking on the small square, a smile unknowingly crept onto jaemin’s face as he stared at the candid photo of you laughing with jake and another friend he was sure he’d seen before on his account. although the gentle hues of the sunset made for a picturesque background, he couldn’t help but think that you and your beaming smile were the most beautiful view of all.

“ahem… earth to jaemin?” renjun frantically waved his hand in front of the dazed boy’s face, “if you wanna gawk at her pics so badly, i would recommend checking out her account.”

the sarcasm dripping in his words would’ve normally had jaemin rolling his eyes, but he was too focused scrutinising every little detail of your profile. the aesthetically pleasing highlight covers were almost as eye-catching as the selfie you’d set as your profile picture, and the large array of posts featuring cute outfits, your friends, pretty views, and more selfies had jaemin curious to see more.

“ooh, ‘hyu second year philosophy student,’ a second year, ah, mark hyung does philosophy too,” jeno commented as he looked over your bio, “i don’t see anyone tagged in her bio, and there’s no dedicated highlight to a boyfriend or anything, so looks like she’s single!”

“not everyone documents their relationship on social media, that doesn’t automatically mean she’s single” renjun pointed out the obvious, smacking the back of jeno’s head. “but, we can figure that out later. so now that y/n’s got our stamp of approval, do you wanna know the plan or not, jaem?”

“wait, wait, we’re still looking!” haechan continued to tap on jaemin’s phone and scroll through your pictures, “she’s cuuute, pretty feed too.”

“i know, right?” jaemin sighed dreamily, earning a disgusted look from jeno, “sorry, sorry, go on, jun, what’s the plan?”

“you need to bring a model to photography club this week, don’t you?” renjun paused for jaemin to nod.

“based on what you’ve told us, jake and y/n seem very close, close enough that he’ll most likely bring her along as his model. if, and when, he brings her, you can actually go and talk to her, maybe get her number or something. as for making sure she’s single, whichever one of us you bring along can just discreetly ask your friend jake if y/n’s taken, and drop the hint that you’re interested—you could get him to help you out with her.”

a few moments of silence passed before jaemin launched himself onto renjun, engulfing him in a tight hug, “thank you, thank you, thank you! wow, i never would’ve thought that i’d actually have a chance with her but thanks to you and your genius mind, now i might. will you come with me on thursday, jun, please?”

“ah, you’re welcome, but y-you’re squeezing me, you’re almost as bad as jeno,” renjun pleaded, dramatically placing a hand on his chest when jaemin loosened his grip.

“i would love to, but thursday? i’m working on a ‘global sculpture through the ages’ exhibition that afternoon. i’m sorry, jaem, but i’m sure these two’ll be happy to help!”

“ooh, ooh, i am! i’m free then, and i’m happy to be your gorgeous model and your wingman all at once,” haechan mimed a hair flip, batting his lashes and grinning at jaemin.

jaemin knew he couldn’t stand the exaggerated facial expressions any longer and answered him, “okay, fine, hyuck! just— i know you can get very friendly, very quickly, so don’t drift off-topic and just stick to the plan, please, for me. if you succeed, i’ll buy you food after as a thank you.”

“woah, thanks, nana!” haechan snuggled into said boy’s side, showing his gratitude by acting annoyingly adorable, “i guess this means that operation ‘get jaemin a girlfriend’ is a go!”

his declaration was met with whoops and cheers, with jeno pouring everyone another round of shots to celebrate their roommate’s potential romance. as they raised their glasses and downed their drinks, jaemin squeezed his eyes shut and hoped, with all his heart, that their operation would be a success.

© YOUR-WORLD-WITH-NCT, 2023

#nct #nct dream #cznnet #nct jaemin #nct dream jaemin #na jaemin #nct fic #nct fics #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct college au #nct series #nct x reader #nct jaemin fic #nct jaemin fics #nct jaemin scenarios #nct jaemin fluff #nct jaemin angst #nct jaemin college au #nct jaemin series #nct jaemin x reader #nct dream fic #nct dream fics #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream college au #nct dream x reader #nct dream series

[sweetyyhippyy]

Metal Head Princess. Dad!Eddie series. *FLUFF*

(My header)

Summary: Baby Munson is… (yeah I know we already know based on the header 😅😅)

Word Count: 925

TW: *I know that gender is a social construct, and I 1000% support and believe that. But I did assign gender, I figured with it being a fictional, “oc” character it wouldn’t be a huge deal… I could be wrong.* Eddie being obnoxious (lovingly)

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m telling you, it’s going to be a boy 1000 percent.” Eddie chuckles, one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on her thigh.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want a girl.” She teases, taking a sip of water. “I’m telling you, the books and the old wives tales I’ve read about, we’re having a girl. Plus I just feel it in my body.”

Eddie sighs dramatically. “You’re that convinced?”

“Yes! Plus, I see you having a little baby girl version of yourself. You making her listen to all the metal bands, being just like you but with little pigtails and chunky little cheeks.” She smiles, already thinking about how cute and sweet their future child was going to be.

“Yeah I guess I wouldn’t mind a little metal head princess. Next to you of course.”

“Care to make this interesting?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

“Oh, I’m intrigued. Go on.”

“If it’s a boy, I will let you name the baby anything you want. I can’t say no to whatever name you pick.”

Eddie throws his head back and belly laughs. “Yeah, that’s good. Alright, and if it’s a girl?”

She sits silent and thinks for a while, before she laughs to herself. “You have to let me practice doing pigtails on your hair. Bows, headbands and all.”

“Okay, yeah you got a bet, babe.”

***

“Why am I so nervous? I haven’t been this nervous since our first date.”

“It’ll be fine! You’re just worried you’re gonna lose.” She teases, sticking her tongue out at him.

“Okay, I think I have a clear enough picture. Are you ready?” The doctor asks with a smile on her face.

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles, reaching for his wife’s hand to squeeze comfortingly. “Yeah we’re ready.”

They both look at the screen, watching the fuzzy black and white picture.

“Okay, so we are looking for a possible extra part right around here to indicate what you’re having… and I’m not seeing it, so I think it’s safe to assume you are expecting a baby girl, you two! Congratulations!”

She instantly bursts into tears, clasping her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, really? Is it really a girl?” She sniffles.

“Yup, it looks like it! Congratulations you guys.” She smiles warmly.

“Babe, it’s a girl!” She looks up at Eddie, tears still filling her eyes. As she looks at him, she notices the tears in his eyes. “Eds?”

He clears his throat, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m okay. Just… just really happy, is all.” He says to her, kissing her head. “I’m so happy.” He kisses her forehead twice, swiping his thumb through her tears. “Is the baby looking good, doc? She’s healthy and all that?”

“Yes, she's looking very healthy. Nothing concerning or anything I’m worried about. I'm going to print these pictures out for you guys to take home and then I’ll be sending you guys on your way.”

***

Eddie was getting a quick drink for both of them, deciding on a movie night for 2 to end the day. He looked to her through the kitchen, her body laid out on the couch, a book resting on her bump as she read the words on the page. He loved being able to look at her and just watch her without her knowing, even though it sounded creepy.

She always had her hand on her little belly along with a smile. He loved that she was embracing the “soon to be mom” role; reading all the pregnancy books she could find in her spare time (even trying to get him to read the books too so he knew what she was going through).

“Babe! Come here!” She calls from the room.

Eddie grabs their glasses and walks to her, handing her a cup as he rounds the couch. “What’s up, babe?”

“Did you know that right now she’s the size of a banana?” She says, putting the book down on her belly to look over at him with a smile on her face.

Eddie smiles back, placing his drink on the table in front of him before he lays between her legs, his head resting on her stomach. “Doc said that she could hear me now, right?”

She nods her head, lifting her shirt up a little bit.

“Hey in there. You’ll be hearing a lot from me now that I know you can hear me. I uh… I just wanted to tell you I love you a lot already and I can’t wait for you to get here.” Eddie smiles, rubbing both sides of his wife’s belly. “Actually, I can wait for you to get here. We don’t have anything ready for you yet, so don’t be in a hurry.”

She can’t help but laugh, making her belly jiggle. “Lay down the law with her dad.” She jokes.

“You know, I just realized something… probably going to have to stop calling me daddy in bed if that’s what the baby is going to call me.”

“Edward James Munson! You are disgusting!” She screeches and laughs, pushing his head away from her. “She heard you say that!”

“Sorry!” He laughs just as hard as her, kissing the bump. “Sorry to you too little girl. Damn, going to have to stop calling you that now too.”

“Eddie!” She draws out the “e” at the end of his name, pushing his head again. “You are such a perv.”

“I mean, this is how you got knocked up, babe.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson x fem reader #Eddie Munson x fem! reader #Eddie Munson one shot #Eddie Munson series #dad!Eddie #dad!Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader

[danmainacc]

Could I request donnie experiencing love at first sight w nb reader who's introverted, soft spoken and nice??? They're a friend of April and April decided that they should meet the guy's

they both just click, the type of click that makes the other's know that this duo would be together in the future

FIRST SIGHT

April thinks you would get along with the guys so she introduces you, not realizing that this would be the start of something nuclear between you and Donnie

Character: Donatello

Writing-type: Oneshot/Request

Warnings: absolutely tooth-rotting fluff, 

Author’s Note: saw the request and absolutely fell in love. i think i’ll make First Sight a series with all my turtle boys. ( header credit to qoeww )  you don’t know how many times i’ve deleted and rewrote this damn oneshot :’)

...

“So these....friends of yours...live in the sewers?” you scrunched your nose as you and your pig-tailed friend trudged through the maze that is the sewers of New York.

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, of course. It’s just.....odd.”

“Trust me, girl. You ain’t seen the half of it,” April proudly smirked.

She was giddy as a schoolgirl, practically bouncing off the walls in excitement.

You two were going to meet up with a couple of April’s friends, though she talks about them as if they’re practically family.

And any family of April’s, are friends of yours, no matter the place they live.

“Turn here,” she led, the sound of speakers blasting Biggie and Puffy getting louder and louder.

The turn led to this main tunnel, which brought the two of you right out to this gigantic skate ramp. 

‘Whoa. These guys must be crazy to skate on that.’

“GUYS! WE’RE HERE~!” April happily shouted, making you wnce.

“Oops. Sorry,” she apologized, softly whispering as she gave you a pat shoulder.

“No worries,” you assured with a smile, turning your attention to the sudden sound of an incoming stampede.

“(Y/NNNNN)!” a turtle-man dressed in bright orange happily shrieked, swinging into the room with a kusari-fundo, and tackling you in a hug.

“HI! I’M MIKEY! WE’VE HEARD SO MUCH ABOUT YOU! OH, MI GOSH, YOU’RE SO PRETTY!”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mikey. But could you please let go. I.....can’t breathe,” you smiled through gasps, frantically tapping the turtle on his shell.

“Oh! My bad,” he sheepishly smiled, letting you go and taking a few steps back.

A much larger turtle-man, dressed in red, sighed as he walked over, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry about my brother. He’s very touchy. My name is Raphael, nice to meet you.”

He held out his hand to shake and you happily took it, giving a firm shake. “Likewise. Nice to put a name to the face.”

“Right back attcha,” another turtle-man smirked, his head popping out of a portal.

You let out a startled yelp, quickly clinging to April.

“Leo!” She scolded, giving you a quick pat on the back.

“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he quickly apologized, fully stepping out the portal.

He was dressed in all blue.

“It’s alright,” you warmly assured, letting go of April.

“I hate to ask this, but I’d like to know why you aren’t screamin and runnin from our appearance. Or at least a little put off,” he bluntly asked, earning smack to the back of the head from Raph.

“Leo!”

“What?! I’m, just asking a question.”

“It’s no problem. April had already told me you four were turtle-mutants. At first I didn’t believe her, but after seeing all the crazy stuff that’s been happening in the city, it doesn’t seem like the weirdest thing anymore,” you explained with a smile.

The boys nodded with ‘ooooooooh’ faces before April cocked a brow, suddenly looking around. “Where’s Donnie?”

“Probably in his lab. You know the nerd, always has his face in a circuit board or somethin’,” Raph shrugged off.

‘Nerd? Circuit board?’

Now they’re speaking your language.

“Hold please,” Leo smirked, cutting open a portal and walking in.

He was in there a moment before out flew a turtle clad in purple, Leo walking out behind.

“Nardo! What the hell was that fo-?!” The words caught in his throat as he laid eyes on you, any scolding towards his brother going out the window.

Before him stood the prettiest woman he had ever seen, and probably ever will.

The shorts you were wearing had fit your thighs perfectly, and outlined your hips so deliciously, you’d think he was drooling. Not to mention your crop-top was effortlessly snug in all the right places.

It was making him feel flushed, drudging up urges that he didn’t know he had.

Donnie hated being cliche, but he guessed he could make an exception, just this once.

“Where have you been all my life?” he sighed under his breathe, happy that no one heard him.

“Hello! I’m (y/n), nice to meet you,” you smiled, holding out your hand to help him up.

He’s never held someone’s hand so fast.

And the second he made contact, a surge of electricity went right through him, going straight to his brain and turning it to mush right before his eyes.

“I take it you’re Donatello. April’s told me a lot about you. You seem to be the resident genius here,” you warmly complimented, making something bubble in his stomach.

“Oh-Oh! Yeah! I have a whole ton of tech I’ve made over the years. I could maybe show you it sometime if you’re up to it. Something tells me you’re an intellectual like myself.”

He was slowly gaining his confidence back, focusing all of it on making sure he didn’t say anything stupid in front of you.

“Oh, you better believe it. I don’t think there’s ever been a time where (n/n) hasn’t been on the honor roll,” April said proudly throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Can we go see it now? I’d really like to see your setup,” you cheesed, practically making his heart melt right there. 

“Of course! Right this way,” he smiled back, practically matching your enthusiasm.

As he led you towards his lab, he couldn’t do anything but ignore his brothers’ teasing coos and kissy-faces, April joining in as well.

He rolled his eyes, ignoring his family and his blush for the time being, focusing his thoughts and smile on your adorable rant about circuits.

He sighed, quickly realizing what was going on and not liking it one bit.

In the span of 10 minutes, you have gotten him to smile more than he has in a month.

There was no doubt about it. You were definitely going to be the end of him.

...

#rottmnt #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donnie x reader #answered

[synkverv]

the color violet never seemed to glow (until i saw it in your eyes)

Chapter One: fly with me Art by: @ewanmitchellcrumbs Pairing: Alicent/Rhaenyra (Rhaenicent), Laenor/Joffrey Lonmouth (mentioned) Rating: mature Tags & Warnings: alternate universe - 1980s, fluff and smut, angst and humor, period-typical homophobia, body dysmorphia, declarations of love, drinking Word Count: 6,460 AO3: link

Summary: (King's Landing, Westeros, August 1986). Alicent was devastated when Rhaenyra first told her she was moving to the Vale to attend university. So to try and cheer her friend up, Rhaenyra promised to make this the best summer ever. She doted on Alicent, treating her to any and every activity that crossed her mind. But as the date of Rhaenyra’s departure approached, Alicent couldn't help but sink into a depression. She struggled to admit the thoughts that plagued her whole existence: she was in love with Rhaenyra. Perhaps on their final outing together, during all the shopping, eating, sunbathing, drinking, and dancing, she will be brave and say what's always been on her mind. But unbeknownst to her, Rhaenyra has the same idea.

Notes: this is my submission for @hotd-bigbang. and a special thank you to ewanmitchellcrumbs for the header, moodboard, dividers, and for organizing this event so wonderfully!! this was my first big bang and it won’t be my last. it’s been such a fantastic experience. thank you again ewanmitchellcrumbs and it’s been so great working with you!

anyway, thanks for reading! this was initially a one-shot but it grew too long for my liking so i’ve decided to split it up into two chapters (or perhaps more but don’t hold me to that!) chapter two will be posted at a later date, hopefully sooner rather than later.

    The Vale.  

   Once a place that rarely crossed her mind now burrows into her every waking thought.  She hates the Vale.  Rather, she hates what it will take from her.  Stealing away the most prized person in her life and keeping her behind its walls was a worthy enough reason to hate anything.  She thinks about the people there, and she hates them, too.  She hates all the new individuals who threaten to invade her friend's life.  She can’t help but think of those who will replace everyone she had here in King's Landing.  A new friend group, a new boy toy, and worst of all, a new best friend.  Everything Alicent knows and lives will be nothing but a distant memory to Rhaenyra.  Fragments of an old life.  Despite her moping, Alicent accepts nothing stays the same forever.  It’s life’s impossibility.  Change is inevitable.  But truthfully, what nineteen-year-old understands that?  It’s silly to blame a location for her distress, she knows, but Alicent needs something to take the brunt of her frustration.  It helps to focus her attention on the wrong thing, or so she believes it does.  She convinces herself it’s easier to despise a place that means little to her than to despise her friend's choices.  Or worse, to despise her friend herself. 

   She’s lying on her back atop her bed’s grey-green duvet.  Her ankles are crossed and her fingers are laced together resting limply on her stomach.  Her steady breathing conceals the torrent of thoughts racing behind her eyes.  The shades are drawn, keeping the otherwise cheerful room as dark as her mood.  

   Alicent grimaces.

   What kind of person would she be if she hated Rhaenyra for pursuing her dreams and goals in life?  As her best friend, she should support her in all her endeavors.  Even if it hurts.  Rhaenyra wants to attend the same university as her mother.  So, what?   Alicent understands the need to feel close again to one’s late mother if nothing else.  

   Alicent hadn’t seen her mother in four years before her sudden illness last year.  Her father had split up the family when he took up his current job working alongside Rhaenyra’s father in the capital.  At his insistence, Alicent and her brothers came to live in King’s Landing to study and make important connections to aid their careers.  Grayce, however, refused to move and remained in Oldtown with her brother-in-law, Hobert, and his sweet wife with whom she was close.  Otto and Viserys had been friends for longer than either were married but it still shocked the whole family when he chose Viserys over Grayce.  

   Alicent wishes she asked her mother why she stayed behind.  Four years is a long time to spend away from your husband and your children.  Why not come?  Father avoids the question when I ask , she thinks, I doubt I’ll ever know why now .  

   Yet though it seemed their marriage was strained for reasons unaddressed, Alicent watched her father become ever-dutiful and caring for his wife when she fell ill.  Alicent, her brothers, and her father flew back to Oldtown the second they found out Grayce was sick.  They lived at the hospital and Hobert’s home for nearly a full year.  Grayce’s funeral was attended by hundreds of mourners from both the Hightower and Redwyne families.  Alicent and her siblings stayed under their uncle’s roof for another week after Grayce’s passing before flying home to King’s Landing.  It still surprises Alicent that they lasted that long.  Otto had grown noticeably aimless and restless following the funeral, annoying his brother, his sister-in-law, his nieces and nephews, everyone.  Gwayne later told her he suspected that their father disliked being around the family without being the center of attention, but Alicent, at the time, just believed he struggled to express his grief properly.  Losing a mother was hard enough, she couldn’t imagine losing a life partner, the second half of one’s being.

   " Allie, door! " her brother calls from downstairs.  

   She glances at the alarm clock to her right on her bedside table.  Half nine , it reads.  She’s late, as usual .  But Alicent doesn’t care.  She never does.  Not on the first day of summer or today, the last.  Rhaenyra promised to make this the best summer ever, and so far, it had been just that.  Yet the thought of it ending lingered in the back of Alicent's mind the whole time, spoiling even the best moments.  She’ll never let Nyra know though.  She knows her friend feels guilty enough about moving away and she doesn’t want to make it worse on either of them.  They avoid the subject. 

   "Be down in a second!" she shouts.  She hears her brother respond but can’t make out what he said.  Not that it matters.  Gwayne makes snide comments all the time, and they’re so often meaningless.  She checks herself out in the mirror on the back of her door, never one to leave the house unmade or underdressed.  She brushes the wrinkles out of her light jean shorts and straightens her loose, sleeveless white top.  Her crimped auburn hair is full and teased out.  It’s almost hard to the touch from the layers and layers of hairspray, just the way she likes it.  She grabs a couple of makeup products from her organized desktop and returns to the mirror, leaning almost close enough to brush her nose against it.  She quickly slathers her favorite shade of pink lipstick over her lips.  Next, she applies a modest amount of black mascara to her lashes, gently accentuating their natural length.  Father hates if I wear too much makeup… or any , she thinks as she stares at her reflection.  At least he’s not here to see it .  She looks down at her hands and frowns.  The skin around her fingers is red and angry, sporting more than a few scabs.  She used to wear nail polish to distract the eye but she couldn’t keep from picking at the pastel colors.  She grew tired of reapplying the polish day after day, so she stopped.  Her picking has never been worse, never been so obvious.  She hopes Rhaenyra doesn’t mention it.  

   Alicent snatches her crossbody purse from the hook by her door and all but runs downstairs.  She expects to find her friend inside by the backdoor, like usual, but when she gets there, nobody is there.  Garage .  Rhaenyra never knocks at the front door, not since it got Alicent in trouble for ‘bothering’ her father.  Father hates it when Rhaenyra stops by unannounced, or even when it’s planned.  Despite Rhaenyra’s father being his best, if not only friend, Otto disliked her.  It seems she was ever the thorn in his side, much to the confusion of both girls.  He refused to elaborate on his distaste for Rhaenyra no matter how often Alicent would ask.  So, the two girls agreed to keep their rendezvous and plans hidden from Otto.  Alicent only ever tells her Gwayne, the only brother who still lives with her, where she is going and who she is going with (it’s always Rhaenyra).  

   Alicent turns from the back door and crosses the house to the kitchen.  She finds Gwayne sitting at the kitchen island, a math textbook and notebook splayed open before him.  Across the room is the door leading to the garage, cracked open just a hair.

   Without looking up, he says, "Father won't be home until late again.  Make sure you're back before then ‘cause I can’t cover for you."  She nods, knowing Gwayne has plans to see his girlfriend that night.  Alicent turns to leave but Gwayne speaks up again.  "Hey."  She looks back at him, her hand on the garage door handle.

   "Yeah?"

   "Have fun."

   "Thanks," Alicent says, flashing a soft grin.  “You, too.”  She pushes the door aside and sees Rhaenyra leaning casually against her bike, parked inside the open garage.  With her back to Alicent, she doesn’t immediately acknowledge her presence.  Her friend’s eyes are locked on the empty driveway and road.  Alicent smiles as she regards Rhaenyra.  Ever the rebel, she wears a bulky leather jacket over an all too familiar, clearly favored purple tube top romper.  Her long silver-gold hair runs down her jacket like a calm waterfall.  She cradles a black helmet under her left arm and rests her dominant hand on top of a secondary helmet sitting on the motorcycle’s seat. 

   “Does it work now?” Alicent asks as she closes the door behind her, breaking the silence and announcing herself.  Rhaenyra whips around, grinning. 

   "Of course.  I made it here didn’t I?” 

   “You made it all the way to Harwin’s last time, too.”  Rhaenyra flushed, playfully rolling her eyes.

   “Daemon helped me fix it up after it broke down.  It's not gonna fall apart again."  She glanced at the yellow motorcycle and made a face.  "Probably.  Anyway, let's go."  She jumps away from her bike, dropping the helmet beside the other, and takes Alicent’s hands in her own.  "Fly with me," she says, a fox-like smirk pulling at the left corner of her mouth.  Mischief flickers in her violet eyes.  

   "Why is it such a secret this time, Rhaenyra?  What have you planned?"  

   "And spoil everything?  You trust me, right?"

   "Yes, of course I do..."

   "So, hop on."  Rhaenyra pulls Alicent to the motorcycle and drops her hands.  She swings a leg over the seat and plops down onto the fabric seat.  She yanks one of the helmets down over her head and holds out the second for Alicent.  Alicent takes the helmet, puts it on, and sits behind Rhaenyra.  The seat isn’t the largest, but neither of the girls is particularly big.  They fit, but just barely.  Alicent clasps her hands together around her friend’s waist as Rhaenyra fires up the engine.  She held onto Rhaenyra a little tighter than was necessary, but Rhaenyra didn’t complain.  Alicent hates motorcycles, especially this beat-up old thing, but Rhaenyra was proud of her tinkering skills.  So, she ignores her fears.  If it makes Nyra happy, it makes her happy ( it gives her an excuse to hold on to Rhaenyra ).

   Rhaenyra speeds out of the garage and barrels down Alicent's neighborhood street.  Anxious, Alicent leans her body against Nyra for support.  She can’t help but close her eyes as they drive through the claustrophobic streets of King's Landing.  She feels the wind tugging at her hair, the red mess flying behind her like a flag.  Her hairspray fights back as best it can, but she knows the style is ruined.  Oh, well .  It isn’t something she didn’t anticipate.  Rhaenyra’s antics have ruined more than a few hairdos and outfits.  What’s one more?   

   Alicent feels Rhaenyra steering them further and further south, and then the realization comes to her.  She knows exactly where they are going even without looking.  She had lived here long enough.  If she wasn't so terrified, she would smile.  

    A day at the beach, so it is , she thinks when they finally stop.  Rhaenyra had parked along a residential street behind the Conqueror's Boardwalk, sandwiching them in between a gold sedan and a black SUV.  The girls dismount and Alicent looks around at the buildings lining the boardwalk.  She spies countless other people walking about in their swimsuits, coverups, and regular day clothes.  It’s a superbly pleasant day to Alicent.  There isn’t a cloud in the sky but a cool ocean breeze offers some relief from the summer heat.    

   “The beach then?” Alicent asks, giggling softly.  “Why was this a secret?”

   “It’s not just the beach.”

   “What else?” 

   “You’ll see,” Rhaenyra says, flashing a white grin.  “Let’s go!”  And without another word, she dashes off towards the boardwalk.  

   “Wait, Nyra!” Alicent calls after her, jogging after her as quickly as she can.

   “Come on!  Hurry up!”  

   “I’m trying!”  She struggles to keep up since running isn’t her strong suit.  Westerosi people don’t exercise as much as they should.  When she catches up, she finds Rhaenyra waiting outside a cute shop on the boardwalk.  Just Seahorsing Around , reads the sign above the building.  Seahorse decals cover the windows, accompanying numerous more seahorse puns.  She can’t help but smile at the ridiculous place.  From the exterior, she isn’t sure what they sell inside.  Aside from jokes, anyway.  Her friend, however, seems familiar with the shop.  Just as Alicent opens her mouth to ask, Rhaenyra takes Alicent by the wrist and guides her inside the store.

   Though a modest building size, she can’t say the owners don’t utilize the space efficiently.  She eyes the circular racks at the front stuffed with hanging bathing suits of all shapes, sizes, and colors.  Flip-flops, beach bags, coolers, towels, sunscreen lotion, umbrellas, volleyballs, and sandcastle toys for little ones occupy the numerous free-standing shelves and display tables that dot the floor.  By the register, there are various snacks like bagged chips, soda, fruity hard candy, and individually wrapped Twinkies for customers.  She notes that they don’t sell anything that can significantly melt in the summer heat like chocolates and cold treats.  It was anything and everything a beachgoer could possibly want, and Alicent was almost awestruck.   

   “We’ll obviously need to change,” Rhaenyra says, still pulling Alicent along as if worrying she might get lost in the store.  “Unless you prefer your underwear.”  She winks with an open smile.  

   “No!” Alicent says.  “How absurd!”  She giggles as she pictures herself wading in the ocean water in her bra and panties.  “You know, I have a perfectly good bathing suit at home I could have brought?”  

   “That old blue and cream thing?  Nah, you desperately need something new.  Something from this decade.”  Rhaenyra drops Alicent’s arm and stops at a large rack packed with countless hanging suits, one and two-piece alike.

   “It’s only two years old,” Alicent says.

   “Whatever.  It screams Yucksville ‘75, dude.  Now,” Rhaenyra says as she begins fingering through the available options, “treat yourself to 1986.  See, now these are bitchin’.”  She pulls out two hangers and grins.  “Here, hold these a sec’,” she says, shoving the swimsuits at Alicent.  She returns her attention to the rack and grabs a few more choices.  Rhaenyra looks around the store and says, “Ah!” when she spots a changing area at the back.  “I’m gonna try these on real quick.”  Alicent hands back the suits and watches her practically skip into one of the changing room stalls.  

   She laughs to herself and begins to skim through the rack herself.  She wants something that isn’t too revealing nor too prudish like her old blue one-piece.  Yet, she has trouble finding the one .  She isn’t as confident in her body as Rhaenyra is with her perfect figure and curves in all the right places.  Alicent is stick-thin by comparison.  She worries that her bones are too visible, that her veins show through her skin too much, that she’s too tall, and other such silly things.  Still, she wants to be confident in front of her friend.  Even if she has to pretend.  She shakes her head.  She’s supposed to enjoy this day, the last day she’ll have with Rhaenyra, and she can’t let body image issues take any enjoyment away from her.  

   Alicent picks out three different swimsuits, three she would never normally wear.  She thinks they would look stunning on Rhaenyra, so why not on her, too?  

   “So, what do you think?”  Alicent didn’t hear Rhaenyra behind her until she spoke.  She turns around to see Rhaenyra posing in one of the suits, barefoot.  She is holding one hand on her hip while the other frames one side of her round face.  Her grin is infectious as she shows off a deep red bikini with high-cut bottoms and a twisted bandeau top.  Of course, that’s what she picked .  

   “I think it’s very you.”  Rhaenyra’s brows shoot up and her grin widens.

   “Good, ‘cause this is what I liked best.”  Rhaenyra’s eyes drift to the swimsuits Alicent had draped over one arm.  “Those look cute,” she says, that mischievous sparkle returning to her eyes.  Before she says anything, Rhaenyra once more attaches herself to Alicent.  Still grinning, she pulls them over to the changing rooms.  Rhaenyra opens a stall and squeezes the both of them inside, latching the thin wooden door behind her.  Alicent doesn’t protest, at least, not much.  

   “Won’t we get in trouble?” Alicent whispers.

   “For what?  We’re not doing anything.  Mothers take their little kiddos in with them all the time, what’s the harm?”  She thinks about mentioning that they are two fully grown girls, not a mother-and-daughter duo, but she gives up.  Although Alicent trembles at the mere thought of getting in trouble with authority, Rhaenyra has an oddly calming effect on her.  If she knows about that power, Alicent thinks she could encourage her to do anything she wants.  Hmph, perhaps she already does , she thinks, looking at her friend in the stall with her.  She’s a terrible influence but I wouldn’t change a thing .

   “Fine, I hope you’re right.”  She’ll keep her voice down all the same.  Alicent slings the swimsuits over the top of the door as there are no hooks or anywhere to sit in the tiny stall.  

   Despite her personal issues with her body, she never is shy to change in front of Rhaenyra.  Perhaps she’s a little coy, but Nyra doesn’t have anything different… down there .  She’s seen her friend naked more times than she can count, and vice versa.  Flesh is flesh.  Alicent shrugs off her white blouse, kicks off her black flats, and steps out of her jeans.  She throws the clothes over the door before unclasping her bra and pulling down her panties.  Rhaenyra offers to hold them instead of adding them to the crowd of clothing.  Alicent thanks her, handing them over, and takes one of the suits down to try on.  

   She looks at herself in the mirror hanging on the back wall and huffs.  It’s not to her liking.  Rhaenyra agrees, so Alicent tries the second one on.  She likes it better, but the bottom sags and makes her butt look strange.  Not an ideal look.  She grabs the third which, out of the three, is far superior.  The flounced top and skirted bottom suit her more girlish style while highlighting her bosom and ass.  She loves the rich green shade against her pale skin.  She shakes her head, raking her fingers through her hair to bring it all forward over her shoulders.  Rhaenyra peers into the mirror from behind Alicent, smirking.  

   “I have an idea,” she says.  “Switch tops with me.”

   “Why?”

   “We’ll match.  Or we’ll mismatch together.  C’mon, please?”  Rhaenyra pouts, batting her long white lashes at Alicent.  As always, she can’t seem to say no.  Alicent signs and pulls off her top, Rhaenyra doing the same.  They swap and admire themselves in the mirror, Rhaenyra wearing green up top and red on the bottom and Alicent the reverse.  Rhaenyra shakes her breasts back and forth, making the flounced top flutter.  Alicent feels her cheeks warming and averts her eyes to her own chest.  The red top flatters her figure as well as the other, but the cut wasn’t something she would choose herself.  The top threatens to slip down to her waist any minute.  At least, that’s how it feels.  It isn’t as tight and secure as the tops she typically wears.  Father would despise me in this , she thinks.  And suddenly a thought comes to her.  She wonders if it’s always been her father’s voice in her head that says unflattering and negative things about her body.  Bravely, she pushes the negativity aside.  Father would never allow me to wear this .  But he isn’t here .  She looks at her pink lips and black eyelashes, and a soft smile comes to her mouth.  What harm is one more little secret?   She sighs, pulling the top up as far as she can without showing the underside of her breasts.  But she’ll make do if it makes her friend happy.  And she does seem so happy.  

   They gather up the rejected suits and their clothes then exit the changing room in their new swimsuits.  Alicent tries her best to look inconspicuous while Rhaenyra does not care either way.  Both are barefoot as they carry their shoes in one hand with their outfits resting over an arm. 

   “We just need a few more things,” Rhaenyra says, “then we can properly enjoy ourselves.”  I’m already enjoying myself plenty , Alicent thinks, just being with you .  She nods and follows as Rhaenyra approaches a long shelving unit that almost runs the whole length of the store.  They each pick out a cheap towel and a pair of flip-flops before heading to the front where they browse a rack of sunglasses.  Rhaenyra chooses a pair of traditional black aviators but Alicent picks a gold-framed pair with thin, pink rectangle lenses.  They aren’t ideal for fighting off the sunlight, however, they are simply too cute to resist.   

   “Any snacks?” Rhaenyra says as they near the cashier’s counter.  Alicent glances at the options again and shakes her head.  

   “I should limit my bad habits,” she answers, eyeing the chips and soda.  They each place their towels, flip-flops, and glasses on the counter.  The cashier welcomes them and begins calculating their items on the cash register.  They take turns showing the tags on their swimwear for him to total as well.  He’s a tall boy around their age, in his mid-teens Alicent guesses.  He has silver dreadlocks that dust the shoulders of his teal t-shirt and an otherwise dark complexion.  He smells both spicy and sweet, like gardenias or freshly cut grass.  He’s nothing like the average beach bum, looking out of place and uncomfortable behind the store’s counter.  She senses a longing from him.  He’s familiar to her but she can’t place where they might have met before.  School, probably.  Her eyes lock on the lanyard around his neck clasping a white name card that reads Laenor .  Hm .

   “Y’know, if you’re hungry, there’s an ice cream shop a little way down the boardwalk,” Laenor suggests. His voice is calm and quiet; Alicent has to stain her ears just to hear him.  “Just head towards the pier and you’ll see it on the way.  Wylde Flavors.  They specialize in all sorts of unique tastes… if you’re interested in that kinda thing.”  The girls shoot each other a look before Rhaenyra tells him that sounds like a fine idea.  She thanks him and flashes a tight smile.  “Need a bag?”  Rhaenyra nods her head, avoiding eye contact as she takes a tote bag from Laenor.  He smiles awkwardly in return as she packs their towels, her romper, jacket, and shoes inside.  Alicent shoves her own clothes in the bag and puts on her pair of flip-flops.  Fiddling with her sunglasses, she looks back and forth between the other two, her brows furrowing.  What’s their damage?   

   “So,” Rhaenyra says after clearing her throat, “how’s Laena doing?”

   “Oh, she’s fine, yeah.  Fine, she’s good.  She’s been, uh, overseas all summer but she calls me every night.”

   “Yeah?  What’s she doing over…?”

   “Um, in Pentos, yeah.  It’s some horse racing thing.  She competes now.  Her mare is this beast of a thing.  Scares Papa but you know how he dotes on her.”  Rhaenyra nods.

   “I remember her saying something about wanting to own a horse a few times,” Rhaenyra says with a genuine smile.  “Glad she’s doing that for herself.”

   “Yeah, yeah, we’re all very proud of her.”

   “I expect she’ll be bringing the gold home.”

   “Without a doubt, yeah.  She’d spend all day every day on that horse if she could.”

   “When does she come back home?”

   “Oh, uh, two weeks from Thursday?”

   “Nice.  Well, give my love to her and hope you’re doing good, too.”

   “I am, yeah, thanks.”

   “Good!  Good.  See you ‘round then.”  Rhaenyra throws the tote back over a shoulder, slides on her flip-flops and glasses, and takes Alicent by the arm.  Laenor waves goodbye to Alicent as Rhaenyra all but drags her outside.  All she can do is offer a confused expression in return before.  

   Sunlight splashes off Rhaenyra’s pale skin as they stand on the busy boardwalk, half-blinding Alicent.  She breaks away from her friend’s grasp with a jerk of her arm.  Rhaenyra turns back and Alicent says with a short laugh,    

   “What the hell was all that?”  She poses the question in a friendly way but doesn’t hide her bewilderment from the odd interaction.  She had never seen such an awkward, stiff conversation from Rhaenyra before.  

   “We… dated for a couple of months,” Rhaenyra admits.  “But it wasn’t a serious thing.”  

   “What, when was this?”  Rhaenyra tells me everything .  Why would she keep him a secret?  

   “While you were back in Oldtown.”  Oh .  Alicent’s expression sours.  Mama .  She feels a knot forming in her stomach, weighing her down as her thoughts put words in Rhaenyra’s mouth.  She wants to puke.    

   “Why didn’t you mention it when I came back?  Boyfriends are usually worth mentioning,” she says.  The friendliness is notably gone from her tone now.  

   “I don’t know… Slipped my mind?”  Alicent gives her a disbelieving expression, tilting her head.  Rhaenyra sighs.  “He’s a nice boy and we were hanging out a lot anyway; his dad is friends with mine, yeah?  I thought there was a spark, but… we weren’t the fit I thought we were.”  

   “That’s it?”  It can’t be.  A flurry of images crosses her mind and she shivers with disgust.  She pictures Laenor’s soft hands all over Rhaenyra, and hers on him.  Their lips touching, her head resting on his chest.  I can’t stand to think of you in the arms of anyone else.  To think their fingers brushed against your flawless skin and got tangled in your white hair, it’s torture.  Boys always lick their lips like hungry beasts when they look at you.  But you’re more than a lamb to the slaughter to me.  I wish you’d take me, feed me, eat me .  Rhaenyra looks ashamed, embarrassed, and a different thought grows in Alicent’s mind.  Did he hurt her?   But before she could ponder it anymore, Rhaenyra speaks up.

   “He’s… a queer, all right?  I realized maybe two months in that he was in love with his ‘best friend’ and not me.  I wasn’t going to be his beard.  It wasn’t fair to me and it’s not fair to him.”

   “I see,” Alicent says, relief washing over her in an instant.  “That was probably the best thing.”  

   “Yeah,” Rhaenyra says.  “Don’t, like, tell people.  He really is a nice boy and I’m not sure he’s… comfortable with himself yet.  It’s not exactly cool to be like that, y’know?”  Yeah, I know .  

   “My lips are sealed.”  Alicent pinches two fingers together and drags them across her lips.  Changing the topic, she says, “So how about that ice cream place?”  Rhaenyra brightens in an instant.

   “It’s a brilliant idea for such a hot day!  Come.”  And with that, Rhaenyra has her hand around Alicent’s wrist again and pulls her along.  There’s something desperate in the way Rhaenyra clings to Alicent. 

   Laenor had been right, the ice cream shop wasn’t terribly far away.  But although Alicent expected to stop in a similar-sized building to Just Seahorsing Around, they instead find themselves at a small stand on the boardwalk.  An older woman greets them, telling them to take their time deciding what they want.  The girls thank her.  Alicent squints at the stand’s menu, frowning as she reads through the ‘unique’ options.  Peanut butter and chocolate chip?  Mint pistachio?  Cookies and cream and strawberry?  Lazy creativity, she thinks.  She glances at Rhaenyra who seems more delighted with the choices.  She rolls her eyes, smiling.  At least there are still normal flavors for me.  

   After a few minutes, Alicent orders a medium cup of regular mint chocolate chip.  She thanks the woman again when she is handed the food and a plastic spoon.  Rhaenyra hums, still eyeing the menu as Alicent takes a small bite.  It’s frigid!   She nearly spits her bite out, worrying it will aggravate her sensitive molar.  She holds the bite on her tongue, letting it melt and run down her throat.  I’ll let it warm a little before I have another bite, she thinks.

   “I’ll have, uh, a peanut butter— wait, no.  How about a… Actually, just a double scoop of the cookie dough.  In a waffle cone, please,” Rhaenyra says.

   “Sure thing, kiddo,” the woman replies.  She passes the cone to Rhaenyra and plops two generous scoops of ice cream on top.  They pay separately and walk further down the boardwalk.  Their chatter is nothing special.  

Did you hear the Triarchy’s new song?  

Yeah!  It was on the radio last night.  Even Gwayne said he liked it.  

It was bitchin’.  I wish Whyte Wyrm would come around, I’d kill to see ‘em live.

Maybe I’ll visit and take you to the concert when they come to the Vale.

I’d love that.  

   As they talk, Rhaenyra begins to scout out an area on the beach for them to set up.  Their arms are interlocked, the two girls now walking side-by-side without care in the world.  All the morose thoughts, all the negativity, had vanished.  She’s in a true state of bliss… until she hears it.  Alicent’s chest tightens as a wolf whistle pierces through the air behind them.  She wishes she could drop her food and cover herself up.  She wants to run away and hide from predatory eyes.  She never shows so much of her body, she knows it was a mistake.  

   As if sensing Alicent’s distress, or acting out of her own fury, Rhaenyra whips around to face the whistler.

   “Hey!” Nyra shouts.  Alicent musters up the courage to look back, too.  She’s shocked to see two boys significantly younger than herself perched on the wooden rail of the boardwalk.  Their backs are to the beach, feet swinging below them.  They are an odd couple, to be sure.  She first eyes the one with dark, greased-back hair and a yellow button-down shirt.  He is a large person, comically so compared to his friend.  His friend, the closer of the two and the whistler if his smirk was any giveaway, is easily a third of his weight.  He had sandy hair that was in desperate need of trimming as the bangs were more like curtains for his eyes.  Neither looks old enough to be in high school, but people seem to retain their youth longer nowadays.  Gwayne is almost seventeen, she thinks, and he still has baby fat in his cheeks.  Regardless of their age, they’re too young to be acting like creepy old men.  

   Rhaenyra smirks at Alicent, mischief sparkling in her eyes yet again, and chucks her ice cream cone at the closest boy.  It hits him square in the face, covering his face, hair, and the collar of his tee.  Ice cream drips from his bangs onto his pants and shoes.  He blinks through the food before wiping the rest out of his eyes.  Alicent’s mouth drops open as the second boy guffaws, slapping his friend’s back.  The first boy, his clothes now saturated in Rhaenyra’s frozen treat, growls at the other.  He lunges for the dark-haired boy, tackling him to the ground.  Alicent watches as he drives his fists into his gut over and over again.  Left, right .  Left, right .  Left, right .  The boy on the ground tries his best to block the hits with his arms, grunting as he fights off his small attacker.  She can’t help but compare them to a pissed-off Chihuahua on top of an adult Pittie.

   “Willie, knock it off!  Willie!  Stop!” the bigger boy says between punches.

   “Don’t call me Willie, Jerry !”

   “Fuck you!  You know that’s my dog’s name!”  

   “Aw, named after the dog, boo hoo hoo.”

    Rhaenyra cackles, invariably proud of the chaos she causes.  She takes Alicent’s wrist and draws her away from the ridiculous scene.  They jump off the boardwalk, landing on the sand of the crowded beach.  Rhaenyra doesn’t let go until they find a spot far enough away that neither girl can still see the boys.

   Giggling, Alicent says, “I can’t believe you did that!”

   “Can’t you?”  Her smile falters a bit, seeing a strange glint in Rhaenyra’s violet eyes.  She pushes the subconscious question aside and laughs again.

   “Of course.  It would be unlike you not to cause a mess.”  The strangeness vanishes from her friend’s features as she laughs.  “But now you’ve wasted your ice cream.”

   “It’s all right,” Rhaenyra says, but Alicent knows Rhaenyra wanted the food more than she did.

   “Here.”  Alicent holds out her cup.  “I’ve got more than I can eat.”  Rhaenyra grabs the spoon and takes a modest bite. “Have more than that,” Alicent says with a small laugh.  They take turns with the spoon, Alicent eating much less than her friend.  Before long the girls empty the paper cup, both satisfied.  Alicent tosses the trash in a nearby garbage can like she had seen the guys at high school practice do a thousand times before.  Rhaenyra holds up ten fingers. 

   “A perfect score!” she says.

   “You’re not playing favorites, are you?” Alicent asks with a smug grin.

   “Absolutely not.  I can’t help that the cutest player is also the best.”  Another smile.  Rhaenyra suggests they find a spot on the beach to sunbathe for a while.  As they start scouting, Alicent stops.  

   “Shit.”

   “What?”

   “We forgot to buy sunscreen.  I’ll run back —”

   “Nah, we don’t need it.”   

   “You sure?”

   “Fire cannot kill a dragon.”  Rhaenyra winks.  But I’m not a dragon, Alicent thinks.  Rhaenyra touches her arm, turns, and takes off further down the beach.  Sand kicks up behind her feet like fireworks.  “C’mon!” she calls back.  Alicent watches the sunlight bounce off Rhaenyra’s blonde hair as it dances after her in the wind.  Such impossible beauty.   Her hair must be spun from a spool of silver-gold thread.  Alicent shakes herself out of her daze and follows after Rhaenyra.  When she finally stops running, Alicent realizes how isolated they are.  She can’t see anybody else around, just the sand and the splashing waves.  It’s their private piece of land, for all intents and purposes.  She smiles.  

   “Here?” Rhaenyra asks.

   “Sure, why not?”  It’ll be nice to have the privacy , she thinks.  Rhaenyra drops the tote bag down on the ground and pulls out their towels.  Alicent takes her black and gold striped towel and lays it down over the hot sand.  Rhaenyra does the same, setting hers hardly an inch from Alicent’s.  Sitting down on the towel, she pops off her flip-flops and sets them next to her in the sand.  Both girls lie down on their backs, adjusting to achieve maximum comfort.  Alicent stretches her arms over her head, resting one arm on her forehead and the other on the towel.  She crosses one ankle over the other and steals a quick glance at Rhaenyra.  Her arms are lying still by her sides and her legs are positioned like thin, white mountains, knees to the sky.  Alicent closes her eyes, focusing on her breathing.  If she’s lucky, she’ll get a little nap.   

   She isn’t sure how much time has passed when Rhaenyra’s voice startles her awake.  

   “This is really pleasant,” Rhaenyra says with a sigh.  “We needed this.  It’s not too long now before I leave.”  Alicent’s eyes crack open and she moves her arms down beside her.

   “Do we have to think about you leaving?” she asks, her voice low.  My whole world will change when I can’t see you every day.

   “You’re right, it’s not a happy subject.”  Rhaenyra turns her head to look at Alicent.  “Hey, I’m sorry I brought it up.”  She goes quiet but only for a second.  “Want me to make it up to you?”

   “Is that not what today is?”  Rhaenyra smiles.

   “Partly,” she says as she rolls onto her side, propping her head up with an arm.  

   “Oh?  How else will you make it up to me?” Alicent asks, smirking.  

   “Like… this …”  Alicent feels Rhaenyra’s hand sneak across her bare stomach and slip under the hem of her swim bottoms.  She freezes and so does Nyra’s hand.  The two girls make eye contact, and a silent agreement is made.  Is this real? Alicent thinks as Rhaenyra’s middle finger glides over her soft, dry clit.  It rubs back and forth, massaging gently.  Alicent’s breathing starts to deepen and she speads her legs.  She watches her breasts rise and fall as Rhaenyra’s movements grow in intensity.  

   “I love a shaved pussy,” Rhaenyra says under her breath.  Her thumb rubs against the hairless mons venus as her index and middle finger continue to work Alicent’s swollen clit.  Moisture spreads over her lips and spills down her cheeks, collecting at the bottom of her swimsuit.  Never had she been so thankful for dark clothes before.  She can feel the burning pressure building inside of her, the heat promising an explosive orgasm.  Her right leg quivers and she rolls her hips as Rhaenyra plays her like an instrument.  She hears the panting and the moans coming from her own mouth.  Rhaenyra kisses her flat stomach and she cums.  

   If she could think coherently, she might have been embarrassed she came so quickly.  She might have worried someone might see them.  But she can’t think straight, not when it started and certainly not now.  Her head is empty as her body buzzes with pleasure.  Rhaenyra leaves another kiss on her stomach and pulls her hand out of Alicent’s swimsuit.  Nyra smiles, staring up at Alicent, and sucks on her fingers.  

   “Delicious,” she says.  Both giggle softly.  Alicent turns on her side to face Rhaenyra.  They stay like that for a time, Alicent isn’t sure how long, just looking at each other.  Rhaenyra’s violet eyes seem to glow, saying everything her mouth isn’t.  But what was the ultimate experience, the very thing Alicent secretly dreamed about every night, makes their situation that much harder.  Rhaenyra will leave for the Vale and leave Alicent behind.  She’ll cry and pray to see her at every possible opportunity.  Yet, it can’t soften the sting of separation.  

   Rhaenyra’s eyebrows press together.  “Hey,” she says.  “I hate to see you in this mood.  Why not liven up and party?  Just the two of us, right here.”

   “Okay,” Alicent agrees, smiling.  As long as she’s here, she knows Rhaenyra will care for her.  She has to treasure and make the most of the limited time they have left.  

   “I’m gonna get us some booze.”  Alicent nods and Rhaenyra takes off towards the boardwalk.  She lies back down on her towel, closes her eyes, and waits.

#synwrites #hotd big bang #house of the dragon big bang #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenicent #alicent x rhaenyra #rhaenyra x alicent #laenor velaryon #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #i really can't thank ewanmitchellcrumbs enough 🙌🙏💜 #everybody needs to shower her with love for organizing this event bc she did an incredible job #and yes i turned syrax into a jankey motorcycle lmfao

[withgreatpowercomesmyfuckingdick]

i am just here to talk not very a ask because if i can't say it, i will probably destroy someone house.

i have been thinking what was going on in cloud's head before tifa went in and put him back together ?

Like i think that we all could see how cloud talk about the nibelhiem accident. Even if he was just putting himself in place of zack that is to much. it dosn't fell like the zack from crisis core you know ?

i think that cloud brain creat memories by taking a vag felling of how the things went and use the emotion accociate with it, then fell it what is left of it with the " first class soldier, friend with sephiroth like you know zack ". wich give that hell of a fanfiction. cloud was next to his idol, so he must have quite the happy emotion, and sephiroth acted that way because in the logic of " cloud being zack" it wouldn't make any sense for sephiroth to not act on it even it may have been a little bit exagere by the feeling of that time.

and then there is that wierd felling that it dosn't stick with the rest of any implied memories. you know. i don't know how to explain it, maybe it's final fantasy 7 ( 1997) that is influenced me here. please tell me that i am not the only one who can see a 180° change in atmosphere when it's about that memory ( i know that they did it this way for the lovely fan we are but dang it's destroying my view of cloud. seeing cloud with emotion on his face has actually wierd me out, his the one wtih the stoïque one, you know ? )

plus has anyone ever ask what cloud remember in between the memory of tifa and being a first ?

and why does cloud shoose zack or not tifa or hell sephiroth himself ? plus he seem to remember zack before that little discour of his. what if when zack said to cloud that he would be his legacy, cloud broken mind took it literaly and for the event to have sense ,zack as a person had to go. it's why ex-first claas cloud do not have zack personality :"]

it's probably extremely wrong, i am still stuck with ff7 ( 1997 ) and can't get myself aroud the remake . like at all. stone face cloud, stays my favorite boy .

ooooooh this is a very interesting ask/ramble this might take me a sec to break down.

edit: this was in my drafts for a few days and ended up very lengthy, but I promise I didn’t forget you LOL. I’m going to give a header for each question for ease of reading. Thanks for the ask, and read more should you be interested in the rambles you set off for me 😂

What was going on in Cloud’s head before Tifa helped put him back together?/What’s with the tone change in his memories of Sane!Sephiroth?

The mind is very fascinating. The closest real life experience i’ve been able to relate to Cloud’s situation is friends I’ve had with dissociative identity disorder (DID). the mind on its own is very much capable of twisting events and compartmentalizing them between personalities. Cloud’s case is an extreme case in that 1) there’s a fucking alien involved and 2) the effects were basically amnesiac. He literally couldn’t retrieve the memories by himself because of how well his brain did in compartmentalizing his trauma, which is fucked up, since all it really did was leave him with the effects of his trauma without knowing the cause. So. Yeah lol.

I get what you’re saying with the memory thing and the gap though. The change in atmosphere IS stark.

I think the big thing to remember here is that Cloud’s brain isn’t just casting itself as Zack. He is Zack’s legacy, what Cloud interprets as being what Zack represents. Seeing as Cloud sees Zack through some rose-colored glasses for sure, there’s plenty of room for error. And who of us doesn’t look at our friends and think, “Everyone should love you like I love you”? Like you said, part of it could certainly be Cloud’s personal of bias of “how the fuck could someone not like Zack?” and it skews the memory.

However, I have a theory I personally prefer: The addition of Jenova cells in the equation. The lines between minds affected by Jenova cells is evidently thin, there’s no reason why it wouldn’t be even thinner between Zack and Cloud considering their trust in each other and everything they’ve been through. Couple that with Zack constantly telling Cloud past stories and you have falsely constructed memories all over Cloud’s brain. Maybe Cloud heard those stories and the ‘memories’ we see are his brain taking creative liberty. Like you said, taking what he knows and just filling things in based on how he assumes they would act. Maybe those are actually Zack’s memories, somewhat transferred due to their joint prolonged exposure to J-cells and each other, glorified a bit thanks to Zack trying to filter the stories for his paralyzed friend. We probably won’t get the full scope until Rebirth, but I’m pretty sure we’ll find out.

What does Cloud remember in between the memory of Tifa and being a First?

I’d say very little if any at all. There’s evidence in Rebirth that he hadn’t even remembered their promise on the water tower, a very important motive behind his wanting to become a SOLDIER in the first place, until she’d mentioned it. In fact, I’d say his memory of her is pretty much gone, and looking at it from the “I’m Zack” standpoint it makes sense.

Everything in Nibelheim is attached to a very heavy feeling of shame for Cloud. He wouldn’t even take his helmet off going back because he was so ashamed about talking shit he couldn’t back up. Tifa is the main person he feels he let down by not getting into SOLDIER. Reread that: Tifa is the main person he feels he let down by not getting into SOLDIER. The very existence of her memory is a threat to his alternate personality as a First SOLDIER. That shame and his fabrication can’t coexist, so it makes sense to me that Cloud’s brain pretty much eliminated Tifa before he sees her again.

There’s also evidence he doesn’t remember his time at Shinra at all aside from his ‘Zack’ memories. I don’t remember if it was in the OG, but the Remake makes it very pointed when Cloud runs into a soldier that recognizes him and he has no idea who they are. So this alternate personality thing pretty much erased his life aside from very basic knowledge, from my understanding.

(Which is why playing with his character is so fun for me because, technically, for all of FF7, Cloud is OOC. Crisis Core Cloud is the more accurate rendition of him. Smacking them together into one guy is the closest to Cloud’s true post-trauma personality we get. But that’s a rant for another day.)

Why did Cloud choose Zack and not Tifa/Sephiroth/someone else?

First off I’d like to say, and I think people forget this: Cloud thought he was the only survivor of Nibelheim for years. Cloud thought he was the only survivor of a genocide. That shit is heavy. And who was there after all of it plus all the bullshit with Hojo? Zack.

Sephiroth was his hero, but he turned to a villain. Tifa was his goal, but as far as he knows, she’s too dead to care what he does now. But Zack was Cloud’s friend, and that never changed. Zack was everything he had left.

And here’s another thought: I said earlier that Jenova cells in the both of them probably excaberated Cloud’s mental break. Cloud’s brain probably didn’t consciously decide “Oh, I’ll be Zack now.” What it did was replace his trauma with the safest option. If the majority of his trauma and grief is tied to Zack then, boom, we take Zack out of the picture. It was probably even convenient, since his memories of being paralyzed and experimented on are also inextricably tied to Zack. So naturally, they have to pack it up too. Zack is the one that got wiped out of Cloud’s memory because losing him is apparently where Cloud’s brain drew the line for trauma capacity. Even though Cloud went through a shitton with Sephiroth and Hojo, it was ultimately Zack’s death that pushed him over the edge. Out of everything that happened, Zack dying is what his brain decided Cloud couldn’t handle. Zack’s request for Cloud to be his legacy, as sweet as it is, probably didn’t help.

(Clawing at my hair because Zack, you could’ve said literally anything else. I know it’s symbolic in his approval of Cloud and his trust in his friend etc etc but couldn’t you have said something with LESS emotional and psychological damage? Goddamnit, Zack.)

Naturally, logical vacancies are left. Who’s the First SOLDIER that helps Nibelheim? Hm, must be Cloud. But if he helped Nibelheim, then who discovered Sephiroth in the Manor? Must be Cloud. If he talked to Sephiroth in the Manor, then he must’ve known Sephiroth, and how does one know Sephiroth? You should be a First SOLDIER. In Cloud’s head it comes full circle because there’s a SUBSTANTIAL gap that used to be filled with Zack. We could say that either 1) J-cells made his memory fucky and having some of Zack’s memories in his head accelerated his faulty logic or 2) the memories we ‘see’ aren’t even real and are just wallpapers Cloud’s brain hung over the holes in his memory.

Enjoyed breaking this down, but overall you’re very correct! And I mean, it’s fair to favor the original over the Remake! I think we all subconsciously default to the 1997 canon, because I certainly do. I’m literally using the 1997 canon and just nabbing little details from the Remake because I like the world building and the NPCs and the new visuals we have for battle and magic and what not. Thank you so so much for this ask and I’m sorry if my text wall was a little much in reply 😂

#ff7 #final fantasy 7 #cloud strife #sephiroth #ffvii #ff7 cloud #zack fair #final fantasy vii #ff7 zack #liddle’s asks #ff7 cc #final fantasy vii remake #final fantasy 7 remake #rambles #liddle theories

[sanamwrites]

12 Feb 2024 Update Log

The Vampyres Are Vampyring Update

Major Changes

“Visits” has been changed to “Parts”

Added Markus’ Part 1 (2603)

Added Lucas’ Part 1 (2962)

Minor Changes

Fixed a writing inconsistency in Gray’s prologue chapter (0.2) Because before it seemed like you didn’t know Lucas Pierce, now it’s clearly mentioned that there’s history. (Word count: 4246 -> 4274)

Added negative relationship stats on Grim’s Visit 1. Now she decides against pursuing you if you’re shitty to her. This does lock you out of her romance, so don’t be a douche! (3435 -> 3695)

Added some more page breaks on Grim’s Visit 1

Fonts used on headers and cover/dashindon cover has been changed

Notes

Special thanks to @tai-420 who sent me an ask with some writing inconsistencies, I appreciate their help immensely. I haven’t gotten to everything yet, but thanks for the help!

I decided that Visits made things confusing so, to simplify things, they’re now just Parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, etc, these are the RO-specific chapters

I have a confession to make. I have a hard time writing about strictly straight people. In terms of “canon,” all the ROs are queer in some way or another to allow for all MCs to romance them, and I’m pretty sure it’s obvious that they are all queer but in case it wasn’t obvious, they’re queer

Markus, however, is the straightest of the bunch. Boy would’ve been a straight male with a different author but not this one

Onto Lucas! I wanted to mention that he has a particular set of repeated behaviors that will be explored through his route. He’s toxic in a non-obvious, subtle way.

A lot of the characters are based on experiences I’ve gone through or people who’s habits/personalities I’m writing about, but Lucas… I’ve never met a Lucas? I’d love advice on how I’m writing his route

Previous Word Count: 58.5k

Current Word Count: 64k

→ or 59k without command lines

→ or 29k per playthrough

Difference: +5.5k words

#if wip #the truthkeeper if #choicescript #fantasy romance #interactive fiction #interactive novel #game wip #suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome! #update log

[alarainai]

fic masterlist & faq 🪐

they/he pfp: industrations ♡ header: minusme43 ao3 | instagram

current wip none

All Completed Fic List 

Jegulus

quite like us  James texts his best friends old number by mistake and ends up falling in love.

my almost lover Regulus and James are a couple. James is the last person to realise this.

blue and yellow skies Quidditch Rivals turned Quidditch Lovers. That's what the world sees them as, at least.

cherry blossom Two idiot neighbours, a prank war and a Calico Cat who just likes the attention.

to love a boy Misunderstandings, broken relationships and a collection of cat pictures.

Wolfstar

all the small things you do Sirius wears a dress and Remus loses his composure (just a little bit)

the first day of my life (i was blind before i met you) Accidentally enrolling in university to get close to a gorgeous stranger wasn't on Sirius' bingo card for the year, but life's funny like that.

Other

fragile hearts (Sirius focused, background Jegulus & Wolfstar) Sirius figures out that Regulus has a crush on James and makes it everyone else's problem.

love is for poets (Introspective Regulus & James, Jegulus endgame) Four times Regulus feels like a second choice (+ the time he realises someone has been choosing him all along)

early morning, coffee cups (Brother focused, Jegulus & Wolfstar) Sirius and Regulus own a failing bakery, Remus is writing a Christmas-themed novel, and James just wants everyone to enjoy the festive season.

Love in Transit Series (with Industrations)

what’s is gonna be? Sirius, Remus, missing trains and the embarrassing pursuit of happiness.

say what you mean Winning Over the Grumpy Flight Attendant: A Guide by James Fleamont Potter.

-

FAQ

Can I translate your fic? AO3 only, please. (Ficbook for Russian is okay)

Can I bind your fic? Talk to me first. If I know you or I’ve seen your work, we can chat about it. But as a general rule, no. This is also a no to commissioning someone else to bind my fic or paying for a company to put one together.  

Can I post your fic elsewhere? Please no. 

Can I put your fic on Goodreads or Storygraph?  Please please please no. 

I can’t find [x] fic. Did you delete/abandon it? No. I’ve hidden some of my fics on a back up account until I’m in a better headspace to work on them again.

[wildbornsiren]

Delicate || Robert “Bob” Floyd/Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw (part 1)

Delicate. (never seen that shade of blue) Summary: It's a love story, but neither of them know it yet. 923 words. Part 1/4  Robert "Bob" Floyd/Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (FloydShaw) Warnings: Kissing. Pining. Notes: Hey @lorecraft​ this one's for you. Thank you so much to @imjess-themess​ for looking this over. Many many thanks to @therebeccaw​ for the header. Likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs feed the muses. Thank you so much for reading. It's so appreciated and means the most. ***Tag list is no more. Please follow and turn on notifications for @wbslibrary​ ***

“Truth or dare?” Jake asked. He had taken over the couch once Natasha had gotten up to get more drinks. “For Bradshaw.” He points at the man who rolls his eyes. “Truth.” Bradley says. “Coward.” “Are we playing or not?” Bradley asks.

“What’s your most memorable kiss?” Jake scratches at his stomach, lifting his legs when Mickey drops onto the other end of the couch. “I don’t really have one.” Bradley says, thinking about it for a while. “It’s just something that happens. I mean they’re nice and all, but none really stick out for me.” “That’s disappointing.” Bob says. He’s sprawled out on the floor on his stomach, book in hand. “Just means you haven’t been kissed properly.” “He hasn’t.” Natasha hands Jake a fresh beer and passing one to Bradley. “I’ve seen most of his kisses. They’re not that great.” “Alright then, truth or dare.” Bradley points at Natasha who simply smiles. “Since you’ve got so many opinions on my kissing history you’re playing now too.” “Truth.” “Did you take the other bartender from the Hard Deck home last night?” “Sure did.” Natasha grins again. “We had a lovely night, and I took her to breakfast this morning before I took her home.” She takes a drink of her beer, “I plan on seeing her again tonight.” “Nice,” Bob says, stretching to bump his fist against Natasha’s. “Be safe.” “Always am. Truth or dare Bob?” “I’m reading.” Bob holds up his book. “You have an opinion on my dating life; therefore, you’re playing too.” “Dare.” Bob says, setting his book aside and sitting up. “I dare you to give Bradley a kiss.” Natasha said. “Give the man his first good kiss.” Bradley swears he can hear time stop. He looks toward Natasha who is simply curled up on the floor, sitting against the couch. He had told her in complete confidence of his crush on the quiet WSO. She had promised never to bring it up. He should have known better. There’s no animosity in her face, mouth in a gentle smile, and she tips her head toward Bob who had gotten to his feet. “You alright with this?” Blue eyes meet his, Bob’s hand extended to him. “It’s just a game.” Bradley says, taking the hand. There’s a surprising amount of strength in the grip and Bob pulls him to his feet. He heads for the door, not wanting to experience humiliation in front of everyone else. “No, where we can see.” Jake cuts through his brain fog. “This isn’t seven minutes in heaven, Bradshaw.” “What? Hoping to take notes to level up your own game?” Bob drawls. “Just want to make sure that it happens, and you don’t chicken out, Bobby boy.” Bob groans, glasses moving out of the way as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I hate him sometimes.” He turns to Bradley. “Last chance to stop this.” Bradley blinks, unable to think of anything other than the way Bob’s mouth moves when he speaks. He swallows twice and shakes his head. “He won’t ever let us live this down.” Bradley hopes that Bob can’t hear his heart pounding in his chest, or the way he can’t take his eyes off the corner of Bob’s lips when he grins crookedly. “You’re not wrong.” Bob says. Bradley blinks, in an instant his back is against the wall. Bob has him pinned, one hand on the wall, the other on Bradley’s throat. Bradley barely manages to control the moan, feeling Bob’s fingers flex gently on his neck. He's off balance, Bob’s knee between his legs, a slim thigh pressing even closer. All thought abandons him when Bob’s fingers trail along his skin, tipping his chin up. He’s drowning in the brilliant blue of the sky, the ocean—it’s bluer than that and so warm. A calloused thumb brushes his cheekbone, and Bradley’s traitorous lips part with a needy sound. “I’ve got you.” Those three words, so softly spoken, ghost against his skin. Lips brush against Bradley’s lightly. He feels dizzy, knowing there’s a splash of red on his face, nerves igniting when Bob’s mouth eases over his. That warm, gentle hand slides into his hair, nimble fingers tugging at Bradley’s hair.  In all the years of dating, one-night stands, he had never felt like this. Warmth courses through him, unfurling in his belly, spreading down his legs, his arms, into his fingertips which cling to Bob’s shirt. Barely brushing the tiny sliver of soft skin that peeks out from under the hem of simple white cotton. Bradley shivers when Bob deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping into his mouth. He’s losing himself in the kiss, in Bob, unsure where he ends, and the other man begins. He’s sinking into his pores, and Bradley knows that it will take weeks to get rid of the feeling of Bob against him, the scent of cedar and clove of the man’s body wash. The warmth in his touch, the vibration against his chest when Bob moans against his mouth—Bradley’s chasing every sensation he can. It's over entirely too quickly and Bradley’s not sure which way is up when Bob untangles himself. Once the sound of his blood pounding in his ears settles, Bradley’s acutely aware of how quiet the room is. He blinks once, twice trying to school his features into some sort of normalcy. “Truth or dare Hangman.” Bob rejoins the group, and Bradley finds it in himself to walk back to where he was sitting, flopping down next to Natasha.

#Robert 'Bob' Floyd/Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw #Bob Floyd/Rooster Bradshaw #Floydshaw #shelly writes #Robert Bob Floyd/Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction

[viscountessevie]

The ‘Whites’ Who Loved Me: Interracial Romance, Hollywood, and Bridgerton’s “Post-Racial” Fantasies

Written By Tré Ventour-Griffiths

Public Historian-Essayist | Poet | Speaker: race, whiteness, Black History, dyspraxia/autism and more

[Took me a couple days to write this up but we finally did it so enjoy reading yall!]

This article was sent to me and our group by Lav @sweetestviscount​ and it pretty much hits the nail on why POC fans - especially Black and Brown fans - of the show who came for the diversity and the respective seasons that repped their communities are so disappointed with the way these characters have been treated. I urge everyone to go read the whole article in full! It’s well-structured, very comprehensive with his sources cited and linked, drops a lot of great truth bombs in the most subtle yet blunt manner that had me gasping so many times because HE IS RIGHT!

Anyways click under the cut only once you’ve read the whole essay and enjoy these highlights and my fave parts of the article with me!

[Note: This became longer than I expected so you all may want to sit down and read this when you have the time!]

Right out of the gate, he explains the use of ‘whites’ in the title which I thought was employed perfectly but glad he gave an explanation still before anyone could get in a huff (and oh boy did people get huffy but more on that later)

To reiterate the last line: the article is purely opinion as is my commentary of the article, that being said doesn’t it say something that this article resonated so deeply with my WoC fandom friends?

I also had a little giggle when he said it’s not research (though he probably clarified this for legal/academic reasons) when he really did put a lot of thought and research into this like I said above, there’s a lot of related links that I will definitely be going through when I have the time!

The Main Thesis of the Essay which is found at the top/sub-header once you click the article is essentially this:

There is a wider dominant media culture and narrative that situates Black and Brown people in interracial relationships only as worthy of love when in proximity to a white person and white families.

And in this article, the author essentially unpacks how and why Bridgerton feeds into this culture and narrative. To me personally, it feels more insidious coming from Bridgerton’s production because their very first and main selling point from Day & Season 1 was that it’s a very diverse show especially with casting actors of different races! This will be explained more in depth by the author and I’ll share screenshots. However now as the seasons go by, and the show featuring more white people thus making it like every other Regency show/movie from the 2000s which,,, what’s new?

I have also spoken about this topic before especially in regards to Mindy Kaling and Shondaland’s works. However, it’s important for me to share this point of view as well. This article to me was also the embodiment of “Ohmygod he put it into words!” So it’s definitely more thorough and in-depth compared to what I’ve said before. Especially since I come from an Indian POV while Tré, the author, provides the POV of a Black person.

Now to my favourite bits and lines!!

That being said, Bridgerton is not an anomaly, but part of an American film and television complex in Hollywood where whiteness dictates who is worthy of love on screen. Such programmes include Master of None, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Girlfriends, Dear White People and Modern Family — which ‘legitimise’ the desire of Black and Brown people as only possible in proximity to a white person — accredited their ‘human status’ via affiliations with ‘white others’.

I AM LOVING THIS SONG! Honestly, if you boil this essay down to these sentences and it relates back to the main thesis statement above: “whiteness dictates who is worthy of love on screen. [Whiteness] ‘legitimise’ the desire of Black and Brown people as only possible in proximity to a white person — accredited their ‘human status’ via affiliations with ‘white others’.”

[God I could write a whole other essay on Aziz Ansari & Master of None. I would do anything to put him and Mindy in a room and write something completely insane chock full of internalised racism against our Indian community kjhdkjas.]

Okay but THIS WHOLE SECTION:

It speaks for itself and I have nothing to add, nor is it my place to do so!

[Also again yall please go give the actual article all the love because everything linked deserves a read too especially to give us a wider context and information of everything!]

THIS BIT HOWEVER:

Kate ends up married to Anthony, with Bridgerton reinforcing the Great White Hope of interracial relationships on mainstream television.

Mr. Tré I AM CACKLING!! ‘Great White Hope’ took me the fuck out because, he’s so so right. I love Anthony as much as the next person - yall know this. I am actually Show Anthony (with his book mortality issue and reckless with his life tendencies) but he is a whole clown and like Tré said, him and the rest of the other Bridgertons being white just fortifies the ‘Great White Hope’ narrative Hollywood has going on.

Okay so these two parts of the same para:

Every time people praise Bridgerton for its ‘diversity’, I am reminded how the ‘the diversity’ ended up being married into white families and thus ‘embodied property’ — as Aileen Moreton Robinson discusses in her 2015 book The White Possessive.

It’s the way THREE of the ‘prominent’ families of the Ton and show are all white - the titular Bridgertons, their foils Featheringtons and the villains, Cowpers. We couldn’t even get some adopted kiddos?? Complete blind casting like the Prince from Brandy’s Cinderella and his parents?

If Bridgerton aimed to do anything provocative, it would have been more useful to have been a Wakanda-esque regency fantasy world with a token white character (heck, Black Panther even has a token white man in Everett K. Ross played by Martin Freeman).

THIS would have been fun to see in Bridgerton. An example - other than Everett - that comes to mind is Nick in Wedding Season who was the token white character who was the butt of the jokes in the best way. He was also very endearing and respectful of his fiancee and their family but didn’t take focus away from the main characters!  All of whom were mostly Indian and Damian Thompson who played James, the main girl’s British boss which was brilliant! So refreshing to watch a story that was about my culture and it wasn’t centred on a white person and both of the leads were Indian!

Tré also calls out the show for never resolving Simon’s SA. Now there’s no reason to do so since Regé left and we saw how it was erased in S2 😭😭.

He then breaks down the roles each of the main Black characters played on the show in S1:

He goes on to compare the other media that’s been doing better especially in terms of showing Black love, namely Sandition with Georgiana Lamb and Otis Molyneux and showcasing the Black Tudors in love in The Spanish Princess. He also cites more sources and academic articles to back up his previous points. 

I really want to play THIS song for everyone though: 

if the Bridgerton showrunners wanted to depict Desi women, where are the Desi men? Bridgerton is a show that has used the popularity of D&I to garner record viewing numbers and it has worked par excellence, while at the same it is a white show pretending to be a diverse.

WHERE ARE THE DESI MEN?? 

Papa Sharma my beloved!! Lord Sheffield could have easily been an Indian man with a different last time, we could have just left the name Sheffields unmarred and in the old books. 

So not only did Mary’s classist parents and her marriage become a class issue, but it has an extra touch of xenophobia all because Papa Sharma was from India! The man was literally a ROYAL PERSONAL secretary to the King and was closer in proximity to a royal than Lord Sheffield himself ever will be AND THEY STILL had a problem with him? 

We could have also given Mary a hot brother or something, give the Sharmas girls a cool fun uncle to help them navigate the London season or something! 

And of course this is what we’ve all been saying for a while now: 

[Bridgerton] used the popularity of D&I [Diversity & Inclusion] to garner record viewing numbers and it has worked par excellence, while at the same it is a white show pretending to be a diverse.

That’s it. That’s the sentence, it speaks for itself. 

However, in a 2015 article, Kavita Bhanot writes that “The concept of diversity only exists if there is an assumed neutral point from which ‘others’ are ‘diverse’.” That default point is white.

Ms Kavita Bhanot is R i g h t! Unfortunately, the default IS white that's why that demographic always needs to centre themselves in conversations like these (more on that later - maybe a separate post on how this article was received on Tré's Twitter) and the majority always yell online about how "everything is woke nowadays" when talking about racial (and queer) diversity in media.

Why is the default white though? It's not as if people of colour just randomly materialised out of thin air in the 70s. If we put all of us together we certainly outnumber white people, so why is that not represented in mainstream media?

For the first paragraph, let me be very clear, it’s not that we didn’t know or want Polin AT ALL. We knew from the start - especially those who had read the books before and after S1 - that Polin will be endgame and canon in S4. 

What we didn’t expect was for them to be the leads a season earlier than expected and to be heavily promoted across every season, take up space in Kathony’s season and already being centred in their own love story. It’s the unfair favouritism and treatment they are getting over Jimone and Kathony. Them being S3′s leads also completely sidelines a show fan favourite Benedict and the chance for us to see another WOC lead in Sophie being loved up by this incredibly charming Bridgerton that GA has fallen in love with! Because after Sophie, there wouldn’t be a WoC romantic lead til Lucy if we ever get to S8. 

We just thought we’d get one more season of ‘the most diverse’ Regency show before they turned it 70% white. [Also Bridgerton has officially lost that title when Mr. Malcolm’s List is right there but I digress, that’s a review post for another day!] 

It does not help that a big part of the extreme side of that sub fandom gloats every time something goes in their favour and are completely oblivious as to how awful they sound. You are literally gleefully celebrating in the fact that the cast of colour is being ignored and overlooked for your white faves. As if that doesn’t happen every fucking day of our real lives. 

Also let’s talk about this bit: 

[Black-ish] still feels like a series tailored to the delicate sensibilities of the white people who do not have any Black friends!

I can’t comment directly on Black-ish (I just couldn’t get into the show’s humour - Mix-ish was more my speed!) as I didn’t watch past the pilot and Tré knows best so I’m taking his word for it! 

I brought up this part because that’s exactly how I have been feeling about this show lately. Yes, I’m sure many fans of colour like myself signed up for the show to see ourselves represented in a world where we could be the leads when we couldn’t be before. But now the racial diversity rep feels so incredibly superficial and there just to fill a quota. I LOVE the Mondrichs, don’t get me wrong but why are they still there? They were very heavily tied to Simon. However what I was hoping for in S2, is that they could have made them friends with Kathony with the Simon-Anthony connection. Maybe Anthony visiting the boxing ring again to let off some steam but nope Will is gonna start a bar! Where Colin can commit a microaggression against him YAY /s. 

Because of this superficiality and most fans of colour leaving the fandom and no longer tuning in for S3, it feels like the majority of people left behind (note; I don’t mean ALL just a big portion) feel like those kind of people who only appreciate the racial diversity so that they can pat themselves on the back for watching something that has a diverse cast in it. It’s very much giving “I can’t be racist because I have POC friends!” While they turn around and either ignore microaggressions/racially charged attacks other people in the fandom commit.  Or worse: commit microaggressions themselves, don’t see ANYTHING wrong with what they did, get defensive and never learn when called out for it. It’s just exhausting to see these type of people on my dash and tags across social media. 

The next few sections of the article goes back to the thesis statement of the article and then Tre makes really great comparisons to If Beale Street Could Talk and Moonlight (both by Barry Jenkins) and how they are “so important — when leading white characters are absent from the story.” It’s really great how he breaks it all down! 

I want to bring light to this part since this has been a point of heated discussion in our fandom. Especially before they announced who S3 was actually going to be about and everyone was speculating once again who Sophie could be: 

Simon didn’t come back cos of Regé’s departure (no one’s fault really) and they didn’t recast him (which as much as I wouldn’t have minded and I even have some fan casts in mind, it wouldn’t have flown with the GA) and now we know the Sharmas aren’t coming back with Chari doing her romcom and Shelley doing The Boys spin off - though they severely under-utilised Shelley as Mary anyways so I’m glad she just took the check and bounced.

So NaniCoolJ is ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. It IS a rotation of people of colour as if we are just interchangeable. 

With the Sophie casting speculation and fan cast, it felt like everyone was fighting for their lives to be represented in Sophie and as someone on here pointed out, it was starting to feel like the show and fans were trying do a racial Pokemon Catch It All with all the Bridgerton spouses (except Pen and Philip who have already been cast) and trying to fit as many different ethnicities as we can with the limited spots we have. Honestly it’s only 4 of them left - Sophie, John and Michael (though I imagine they won’t be adopted cousins) and Lucy.

[SPOILER FOR SHOW FANS]

If we ever get to see them, Gareth and his family are Black since Lady Danbury is. 

Do you see how incredibly fucked up it is, that out of ALL the three main families, we fans of colour are only represented as MAIN leads/characters by 7/9 of the spouses (including John)? That’s only 7 (potential) POC leads vs the current 18 white leads. As it stands, it’s only 2 against 18 are currently in the show - Regé as Simon and Simone as Kate. If we count Lady Danbury and Queen Charlotte, that’s 4 but still a HUGE disparity in numbers. I focused on Simon and Kate since they are the romance leads as this is a romance show even if production forgets that most times.  

Just some numbers to think about, next time yall wanna yell that the show is super diverse. Don’t even get me started on how some Polins use Nic/Pen’s weight as a ‘body diversity’ bargaining chip to completely invalidate what fans of colour are saying and using it to be against racially diverse casting. It just makes their body positivity activist come across as performative when you have to put down one form of diversity to uplift the other. This is more uncomfortable when you realise that Nicola herself has said multiple times that she doesn’t want people commenting on her body - positively or negatively and she DOES NOT want to be a body diversity activist. But more on that in another post since this is getting long enough!

And now the racists are back, louder than ever, sigh. It was bad enough they were slut shaming and throwing racial slurs at Marina and whoever defended her post-S1 and I was even privy to some of it still happening during pre and post-S2. Not to mention how Simone and Charithra were treated in different ways after their castings were announced. Now with their favourites being front and centre, they have become more insufferable and horrible to the rest of the fandom thinking they are above consequences. It’s really vile the things people will say behind the shield of anonymity. 

Tré then goes on to reference the The Blindian Project which sounds super cool and established to build solitary with Black and Brown communities which is such a vibe. 

Honestly I feel like most of us on here do get along well and band together against the racists so that’s been a great support system for all of us. Just to say once again, I am always here for you guys. I know all of this is so frustrating to experience and now we have this author outside of the fandom validating our experience. It kinda takes the load off, for me at least. And any time yall need to vent about how its all going in the fandom, my asks and DMs are always open.

Tré goes on to say this, which becomes even more relevant with all the white ladies arguing with him that “fAt ReP iS juSt aS iMpoRtAnT.” Which to be clear I’m not discounting that having fat rep is important. It IS important. However, this is not the conversation happening in the article. As I said above, it feels EXTREMELY performative of them to centre the conversation on a fat white woman when the conversation is about race and how Black and Brown characters are being sidelined and we don’t even have other ethnicities represented at all (not in a leading role at least). 

whiteness must be discussed always, even in the politics of love on and off screen. With the breadth of romance on screen still necessitating white people, there is a problem that in a dominant culture of white supremacy it says: ‘Black and Brown people are incapable of love, unless when a white person is present, or if this text is a ‘race show’ or ‘race film’.

These ladies in his replies really read that paragraph (or maybe they didn’t wouldn’t put it past them to just read the title and argue with him for the sake of it.) and specifically the line “whiteness must be discussed always, even in the politics of love on and off screen“ and decided to go “Ah yes, I’m going to discuss my whiteness now.” 

Also to Elora, Julia and Tanya (idc I’m naming names): to hijack a necessary conversation on race in Bridgerton by discussing fat representation denies the very real history of racism in the television/film industry and is quite frankly a disgusting case of whataboutism. This isn’t about you and as my friend Triv said (who also helped me phrase this paragraph), “Remember, it wasn't the fat woman who got sat at a segregated table at the Oscars even as she won the award; it was the Black woman.”

It’s so incredibly insensitive of them to diminish what Tré and the fandom is saying by throwing weight in our faces. I bet you, these women wouldn’t blink an eye if a fat WoC was cast on the show, they would probably still overlook her for their favourite girlboss. 

And for the finale:

Took us a while but we made it! Much like most of his article, this conclusion speaks for itself and so I shall leave it be. 

I have mostly said what I had to say in this commentary. Honestly, it got so long because it’s multiple conversations we’ve had all over the last few months all contained and condensed into one post. These concerns have also been a long time coming, it’s so good to let it out and try to move on now. Thank you once again to Tré for writing piece and vocalising a lot of the POC fans and our friends have been thinking for a while now. 

Thank you to everyone who read the article and this post all the way through, hope you enjoyed reading it and feel validated in other people sharing the same sentiments as you. Please know none of you who feel this way are alone and we’re all here for you and as I said earlier, asks and DMs are always open!

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton Fandom #Bridgerton Production #Anti Bridgerton #Anti-Bridgerton S3 #I'm not tagging the other anti tags because EVERYONE NEEDS TO SEE THIS

[redthreadoffate]

that’s not a pure word

header by @/earlgreymon

a super late gift for @sincerelytan​!!!

this is so exciting for me because this has been in the works for a long time but i FINALLY got around to finishing it even though it’s a little short. i feel it’s because the ending never really got to me? so i re-did it a few times and i finally found the right groove. i hope you like it!!

that’s not a pure word | main characters ; yamato ishida, mimi tachikawa, satoshi ishida (oc) | universe ; au / no digimon partners | ships ; yamato x mimi | genre ; humor, family | word count ; 1,077 | rating ; g | edited ; three times - forgive me for any mistakes

Yamato and Mimi had just finished preparing Satoshi’s birthday dinner. He cooked the food and she baked the cake. It was just a simple party, just the three of them for now. Or four counting the baby inside Mimi. Satoshi liked to count them in already.

“Happy birthday, Satoshi-kun,” Mimi greeted as she brought out the cake. There were five small blue candlesticks on it and as soon as she placed it on the table, her son blew them all out with a single whoosh. “You haven’t even made your wish!” she gasped.

“I’ve already made my wish,” Satoshi said with a huge grin. “But I’m not going to tell you,” he added in a sing-song voice.

“You’re keeping secrets from us now?” Yamato asked, his voice steady, but he tried his best to hide the tiny smile he had on his face.

Satoshi giggled. “Only my wishes.”

“How can we make your wish happen if we don’t know about it,” Mimi asked teasingly.

“Tenma-onii-chan said that you should never tell your birthday wishes. I should only tell Tenma-oii-chan and Akihito-onii-chan.” Satoshi crossed his arms and nodded.

Yamato sighed. “Such a Takeru thing to do.”

Mimi laughed. “Next thing you know, Michiru-chan is acting like Hikari.”

“Mama,” Satoshi called, “do you think the baby will be a girl?”

Mimi tilted her head a little. “We haven’t asked the doctor,” she admitted. “We kind of want it to be a surprise.”

“Why? How will you pick out his or her name?”

“We have names ready,” Yamato answered. “But we want this to be a surprise this time.”

“But why?”

Yamato and Mimi looked at each other. “No reason, really,” Yamato said. “That’s just the way we want it to be.”

Satoshi frowned. “I wished for a baby sister.”

Mimi smiled. “Let’s hope the baby is a baby sister then.”

“But what if the baby is a boy?”

Yamato crouched to his level. “Will you not love him?”

Satoshi shook his head. “I will, but I want a baby sister like Chiru-chiru-chan.”

“Girl or boy, you’ll be the best big brother ever.” Yamato patted his head and grinned. “You take after me after all!”

Days later, Mimi and Satoshi were out shopping. They were going on a short holiday during the summer and Yamato wanted them to buy clothes while the season was still far. Mimi laughed and said that they did not have to worry. Yamato argued about the crowd.

As Mimi looked around, Satoshi was happily trotting beside her. She had bought him a new, small basketball set. While the headboard and net were in the cart, he was holding the ball. He was dribbling carefully but at some point, the ball rolled a little further. Luckily, there were not many people and he knew he could follow and get it without getting separated from his mother.

“Shit.” He quickened his pace and caught the ball before returning to the side of his mother. “I got it back.”

“What did you just say?” Mimi asked. Satoshi could not tell what was wrong with what he said.

“I got it back,” he repeated.

“No the–no, never mind. Just don’t say that again.” Mimi shook her head.

“I got it back?” he asked once more.

Mimi stopped in her tracks and bent down. “Shit. Don’t say that word ever again.”

“But Papa says it all the time when something falls,” he defended.

Mimi sighed. “He’s sleeping on the couch tonight,” she murmured.

“Why?”

His mother pursed her lips. “I’m going to talk to Papa, okay? But whatever happens. You do not say that word again, okay? Ever. You got that?”

Satoshi nodded. “Okay.”

Later that day, Satoshi was playing with the basketball set in his room when he heard his mother raise her voice. He could not make out what she was saying but he knew she was mad at his father. He wondered why that single word broke into an argument.

Night came and he was thirsty. He got up from bed and headed for the kitchen to grab a glass of water. As he entered the kitchen, he saw his father lying on the couch, a blanket covering his body. He walked over to the sleeping man and nudged him awake.

“Papa.”

Yamato opened his eyes and turned to look at him. “Why are you still up?”

“I was thirsty,” he said. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

Yamato grinned. “I made Mama angry.”

“Is it because of that word I said?”

“The one you’re not allowed to say?”

He nodded.

“Maybe.” Yamato twisted his body. “Do you want to sleep beside me tonight?”

Satoshi smiled. Yamato threw the covers up and the young boy climbed up. Once settled, Yamato fixed the blanket and hugged his son tight.

“Goodnight, Papa.”

“Goodnight, Satoshi-kun.”

Months later, Yamato and Satoshi entered the room. Satoshi begged his father to tell him if the newborn was a baby sister or brother. Although he really wanted a baby sister, he would still love his baby brother with all his heart and more. “Girl or boy?” he asked again.

Yamato shook his head. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“Satoshi-kun, come here, meet your baby sibling!” Mimi had a huge grin on her face, the baby in her arms.

“What’s a sibling?” he asked, looking up at his father.

“A brother or a sister, a general term,” Yamato replied.

Satoshi did not know what “general term” meant but he understood through the first part that a sibling is either a brother or sister or both. “That’s smart,” he said.

Yamato hauled Satoshi up to the bed and the brunette little boy excitedly crawled up to his mother and looked at the baby. The baby was sleeping and had blonde hair like his dad. He tilted his head from side to side, not sure if the baby was a brother or sister. He looked up at his smiling mother and asked, “I don’t know.”

“What did you want to name your baby sister?” she asked.

“Kiyo,” he said right away. “It means purity, doesn’t it? Akihito-onii-chan told me what purity means.”

“I hope it isn’t the other meaning,” Yamato muttered under his breath. But Satoshi did not understand what he meant.

“Kiyo,” Mimi said. “What do you think, Yamato?”

“I think it’s perfect,” he replied, patting his son’s head. “Better than any name we thought of.”

Mimi brought her arm forward. “Satoshi-kun, meet Kiyo.”

#digimon adventure #digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure zero two #yamato ishida #mimi tachikawa #yamato x mimi #mimato #yamato ishida x mimi tachikawa #matt ishida #matt ishida x mimi tachikawa #mimi tachikawa x yamato ishida #mimi tachikawa x matt ishida #i hope you like it!!! #super nervous but a little proud??? #type: fandom #f: digimon #type: dynamic #dy: mimato #ch: mimi tachikawa #ch: yamato ishida #type: eve writes #type: eve writes digimon #type: eve writes anime

[tbyfandoms]

Rapunzel | Dramione

Pairing: draco malfoy x hermione granger

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: stuck with the inability to meet with her boyfriend face to face on her own, hermione enlists the help of her best friend to get her there. meanwhile, stuck in a meeting of star-crossed lovers and nothing better to do, harry has a few quips for draco up his sleeve

Warnings: mild swearing

Masterlist | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: my first work for dramione! i’ve loved this pair for so long and i'm so happy to have finally sat down and written a short fic for them. i would’ve never had the idea for this story without seeing this amazing artwork (shown in the header) by @fghartwork ! i saw it on my recommended and the idea immediately came to mind. please check out their page and the original art work here. they’re very talented and also very kind for letting me use their work in my header <3 i hope you all enjoy the story and lmk what you think! :)

“Harry be careful!” Hermione shrieks as she clings to the back of her best friend, her heart rate spiking every time he makes a sudden turn in the air.

She never did like flying.

“Hermione you’re fine, just hold on!” Harry replies with a chuckle. He can tell how frightened she is by the way her arms clutch tightly around his stomach each time he dips the broom.

“Oh trust me, I’m holding on,” she mumbles, squeezing her eyes shut as they swoop past one of the pillars on the castle. “This is so unbelievably terrifying and dangerous, I don’t get why you like it so much.”

“It’s thrilling! The wind in your hair and on your face. The way you can speed through the air and feel just like a bird, it’s brilliant!” He muses. There are few things Harry Potter finds absolute, indescribable joy in and flying is most definitely one of them. In a teasing tone he adds; “Need I remind you, you’re the one who wanted to do this.”

“Come on, Harry! You know I wouldn’t if it wasn’t my absolute last option. This is the only way I can see Draco before we leave for break. After tonight who knows how long until I’ll be able to see him again face to face.”

It was just their luck that the final day Hermione and Draco would be able to see each other, the Malfoy boy would land himself in detention. There wasn’t any way around it and no time to meet in the morning before everyone leaves. If the couple wanted to see each other one last time, this is the only way it could be done.

The only downside to the plan was that Hermione would have to travel by broom to get to Draco. There wasn’t a chance she’d be let in the room, so meeting in secret by the window was the best bet. Too bad Draco’s serving his detention in a classroom way at the top of the castle, which is how Hermione has found herself holding on to Harry for dear life as he takes her to see him.

“The two of you really can’t meet up during the break? This is honestly the last chance you’ve got to spend time with him before we leave?” Harry questions.

“Sadly, yes. With the way our personal schedules line up, there doesn’t seem to be a day we can have to ourselves. Any day I’m free he’ll be busy and any day he’s free I’ll be busy. We could always try to floo or apparate to each other during spare time, but considering how on edge everyone still is regarding our relationship, it doesn’t seem possible,” Hermione sighs. No matter how hard she tries to show everyone how much Draco has changed and grown, it doesn’t seem to change anything. Harry truly seems to be one of the only people who has somewhat accepted their relationship, besides Ginny.

Although Harry can’t see her face, he can tell Hermione is frowning behind him, wishing things could be different and still struggling with the heartache of the people she loves most not accepting the boy she’s fallen for. It took a long time for Harry to grasp the idea of their relationship, but of course with help from Ginny, he was able to come to terms with it and focus on the fact Hermione is happier than ever before. After the past few years they’ve had that’s truly all he could hope for, his best friend’s happiness.

Harry still doesn’t get how it even happened, but he guesses all of them coming back for an eighth year allowed unexpected relationships to form between people. It was weird at first, but he sees how much good it’s actually done and he’s glad he came back along with so many of his other classmates. In a way it’s been healing for him even if these walls have witnessed so much loss and destruction, and if Hermione finding comfort and love in being with Malfoy is part of her healing, then who’s he to judge her?

“Don’t worry, Hermione, I’m sure the two of you will figure it out. I can tell you both care for each other a lot and not being able to see each other in person for a while isn’t going to change that. There’s ways around your obstacles and if anyone will figure it out it’ll be you. Besides, I’m here for you if and when you need me again. I mean look at us now! If you would’ve told me a year ago I’d be helping you meet up with Malfoy I would’ve said you’re mad! Yet here we are.” The two Gryffindors laugh and Hermione fights the tears prickling in her eyes over Harry’s words. She truly doesn’t know where she’d be without him and she’s so incredibly grateful to have him in her life.

“Thank you, Harry,” she says softly as the raven-haired boy takes them around a pillar and begins to slow down as their destination comes into view.

“You’re welcome, Hermione,” he replies, lining his broom up against the side of the castle and slowly lifting the both of them up under a window that’s wide open. "Okay, now that we're here, climb up on my shoulders and I'll keep you steady while you 'talk' to Malfoy."

Hermione nearly falls off the broom over the statement alone. "What!? Why in the world would I do that when I can keep my little stability by just staying where I am, sat behind you!"

"No offense, Hermione, but I really don't wanna be sitting right next to you while you make out with your boyfriend." Hermione's face flushes fiercely and she does her best to try and gather herself before replying.

"Well, alright then. If you really want me to, I will." With a firm nod, even though Harry can't see her, Hermione decides the task won't be so bad. She's a witch for God's sake! She could handle a little challenge.

Grabbing onto Harry's shoulders, Hermione begins to lift herself up off the broom. With shaky hands, she grabs the edge of the window above her, using it to balance as she lifts one leg over Harry's shoulder, and then the other. Harry grabs onto Hermione's shins and allows her time to adjust.

"See, not so bad, right?" Harry grunts out. Hermione isn't heavy by any means, but he didn't think through all the added extra weight. Harry may be one of Hogwart's best seekers, but he's sure never flown a broom with someone sitting on his shoulders before. He'd get used to the feeling in a minute though, he's sure...hopefully.

"Right! This is fine, I'm steady, it's good!" Hermione doesn't know who she's trying to convince, Harry or herself, but it definitely seems more like the latter.

Looking up, Hermione realizes she's still a little under the window, not exactly head level with it. "Harry, can you fly us up a little bit? I can't quite see through the window."

In an instant, Hermione finds herself rising upwards. The sudden movement, although expected, startles her and causes her to let out a tiny yelp.

"Granger? Is that you?" Looking into the open window, Hermione smiles when she sees her boyfriend standing there.

"Draco!" She exclaims, leaning in closer to the windowsill and resting her arms on the ledge.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing!?" Rushing to the window, Draco leans out of it slightly, looking down to see how exactly his girlfriend has found her way up here. "Is that Potter?"

"Evening, Malfoy!" Harry grins while looking up and throwing Draco a peace sign. The blonde can't help the bemused smile that makes it's way onto his face. Of course it would be Potter to help with something like this.

"I knew we wouldn't be able to see each other before we left tomorrow, so this is the best plan I could come up with. It's probably not the best one I've ever thought of, but so be it, I'm here and now we can be together for a moment!"

Draco smiles at the girl before him. He doesn't understand how in the world he got so lucky to be with someone like her. If you would've told him when he first came to Hogwarts that he'd end up with the bushy haired girl from Gryffindor, he would've laughed in your face. But now, here he is, completely and utterly in love with her.

"Granger, you're brilliant! If anything this is your best plan yet, love." Draco reaches over and grabs one of Hermione's hands, rubbing his fingers over her knuckles and looking at her with those big grey eyes she's come to love.

A thought pops into Hermione's head, instantly sending her heart racing. "Wait, McGonagall isn't in there is she? I would hate to get you into more trouble!" The brunette tries to look through the window, but Draco immediately shakes his head, trying to calm her nerves.

"No, she stepped out for a moment. I'm not sure when she'll be back, though. We might not have much time, I-"

"You're both fine, don't worry. McGonagall's in her office talking to Flitwick. You've probably got loads of time," Harry says, leading to Draco and Hermione to look down at him questioningly.

"And how do you know that, Potter?" Draco questions, raising a brow at Harry's supposed fact.

Without speaking a word, the boy holds up a piece of folded paper he had in his pocket. Hermione hums and smirks when she realizes what it is. "Marauder's map. You've still got that thing, Harry?"

"Of course I do, it's useful, you know that." Harry goes back to looking at the map, definitely not keeping his eye on the spot of a certain red head girl.

Turning back to the blonde, Hermione leans her head on her fist, staring at Draco with nothing but adoration. "So, tell me about your day of solitude."

Laughing, Draco settles himself on the windowsill, ready to spend every possible moment he can with the girl who stole his heart and taught him what real love is all about.

*****

"You're lying!" Hermione can't help the laugh that escapes her lips. "There's no way she made you do that!"

"Granger, I swear she did! This detention is by far the worst I've ever received."

Hermione just shakes her head at her boyfriend's words. She loves how at ease she feels with him. That sounds ridiculous considering who it is she's talking about, but it's true. Draco makes her feel a sense of comfort she's never felt before. It took a long time for them to get to this point, but she wouldn't take any of it back. She's glad after all these years they found their way to each other, found healing and love within each other. It took everyone by surprise, even them, but it's perfectly imperfect, and that's enough for them.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Draco," Hermione says, barely above a whisper. She tries to give him a smile but it's weak. Hermione never was very good with trying to hide her emotions.

"I'm going to miss you too, Hermione." Draco reaches out and cups the girl's cheeks with his palms, swiping this thumbs lightly back and forth. "We're going to figure this out, don't worry. I won't allow anyone to keep you away from me. I mean c'mon, even detention couldn't stop us from seeing each other."

The Gryffindor girl lights up at the Slytherin's words, letting out a small giggle.

"There's that smile and laugh I love so much," Draco beams, loving the way Hermione gets shy at his words. Closing the distance, the Malfoy heir connects his lips with hers, and she wastes no time in reciprocating the action.

Almost instantly Hermione finds herself lost in Draco's soft lips and warm aura. She's reaching up and dragging one hand through his hair while the other grasps onto the front of his shirt, wanting him as close as possible.

It's when Draco softly bites down on Hermione's bottom lip that she really loses it. Her thighs move to rub together, wanting to create any sort of friction, but the action is immediately halted, rapid taps on her knees breaking her from the spell that is Draco Malfoy.

"Hermione!" Harry squeaks from below and Hermione's eyes go wide as she realizes what's happening.

"Sorry, Harry!" The girl rushes out, heat rushing up her neck and face as she quickly releases the death grip her thighs have around Harry's neck.

"It's fine," the raven haired boy coughs out. After rubbing his neck as best he can to soothe the dull pain, while simultaneously holding onto Hermione and trying to keep the broom upright, he says, "I hate to break this up but either tell Rapunzel to let down his hair and have you climb up, or we've got to go. McGonagall's coming."

Hermione laughs at the boy's joke, but covers it with her hand as she turns and notices Draco's confusion and hard stare.

"What did you just call me, Scarhead?" Draco's eyebrows are furrowed and even though he and Harry have long since settled their 'rivalry', the nicknames still pop up here and there, and Draco is quick to revert back to them when feeling intimidated, as is Harry.

Before her two favorite boys can begin bickering, Hermione interjects. "It's just from a fairy tale, Draco. It's Rapunzel, have you ever heard of it?"

Malfoy shakes his head and Hermione's left surprised. She knew the Wizarding world was different than that of the Muggles, but she figured at least the fairy tales would've been prominent in both.

"Basically it's a story about a girl trapped in a tower and she has incredibly long hair that she lets down for her lover to climb in order to reach her. I'm shocked you don't know it."

Draco shakes his head and relaxes at the fact it wasn't anything too insulting. "Never heard of it."

"Basically, it's a joke, Malfoy. You should learn to take one!" Harry teases from below and Hermione gasps before lightly smacking the side of his head.

"Harry! Be nice!" Hermione starts to make her way off her friend's shoulders, slowly settling back on the broom. Harry rubs the spot on his head, but continues to chuckle as he flies the broom up a bit higher, allowing Hermione to be able to say goodbye.

"Very funny, Potter. We'll see who's the one laughing when I beat your ass in the next quidditch match," Draco smirks and Harry rolls his eyes in return.

"We'll see about that one, Malfoy"

"If you two are done trying to one up each other, I'd like to say goodbye to my boyfriend before we get caught," Hermione says, side-eyeing the both of them. Boys.

Turning back to face Draco, Hermione smiles and leans in one final time for a kiss, this time not letting it get too out of hand.

After pulling away, Draco is the first to speak. "I promise to write to you as much as possible, even if it's about something boring. I'll write about it just so you know I'm still thinking of you."

The brunette girl laughs and nods her head. "I'll love every second of reading them, I'm sure. I love you, Draco."

The blonde's usual steel grey eyes soften as they take in every inch of the girl before them. Airily, Draco replies, "I love you too, Hermione."

A moment passes between them before suddenly the door to the classroom is being opened and the Headmistress' voice can be heard.

"Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing by the window?" The couple's eyes go wide. Draco immediately steps back and Hermione lightly urges Harry to take off.

"Nothing, Headmistress," Draco says, watching as his girlfriend begins to descend back to the ground. He winks at her and then says, "Just thought I heard something."

Hermione's stomach fills with butterflies at his action, she grins and waves at him before holding on to Harry for dear life once more.

"Thank you for doing this, Harry. It really means so much to me," the witch says, lightly squeezing Harry a bit extra for a moment in appreciation.

"You're welcome, Hermione. Anything for you and your Rapunzel." The boy laughs and Hermione gasps but can't help to do the same.

"Harry!"

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco malfoy x hermione granger #draco x hermione #draco and hermione #draco malfoy and hermione granger #harry potter #the wizarding world of harry potter #dramione fanfic #dramione fanfiction #dramione fandom #dramione fanart #dramione fluff #dramione one shot

[fan-goddess]

Hi pookie!!!!! I just saw your new header thingy and straight up chuckled with I saw it LMAO 😭💀

But, how have you been doing recently? I’ve been doing pretty fine. My birthdays coming up soon so that’s about the only interesting thing going on in my life right now.

I saw you mentioning the “regulars” short film! What was it about? I never watched it before. I can’t get a hold of it!!! On the other hand tho, have you watched “domina”? Tom plays Julius Caesar ! I’ve always loved history so that was pretty interesting to find out! I haven’t watched that one either, cuz I don’t have a subscription on MGM 😭

All of his work is so scattered I feel like the only little crumb of his that I’ve been living off of was “the king” on Netflix. My attention span is so short I only watched for him 😭

Hehehe thank you so much I just thought I’d switch it up a bit and what better way to do it than with one of my fave boys 🩷

I’ve been alright though I actually had my birthday last month! I hope yours though goes great and you get some good presents! I don’t have much going for me at the moment apart from a funeral for a relative of mine end of April. Other than that nothing!

I’m afraid I haven’t watched regulars (unless you count gifs) but from what I’ve seen tgc is a regular in a cafe obsessed with a girl. So badly he kidnaps her and puts her in his basement. Eventually she makes it up to the top of the house part but I don’t know the parts really after. I haven’t seen domina apart from that one scene… 🍆😮 (😉) mainly cause I don’t have the energy to watch it or the attention span. Plus if need to watch it on my laptop and I’ve gone off it for some reason 🤷🏻‍♀️

Honestly his work being so diverse intrigues me as from it you can tell he’s developing his craft similarly to what Ewans doing! The king though!!!! Him in it was just godly!!! Again I haven’t seen it but I was in the room with my father who was watching it at the time and I saw the scene of them both arguing on the field and was just captivated by beauty! I have been so tempted to write a fic based on that scene but never have the time! One day though…

#el speaks #lovely people of tumblr