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illdowhatiwantthanks · 2 days

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The Kumquat (The Surprise, Part 4)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, some references to past sexual trauma (nothing graphic), a Pap smear (aka the WORST medical exam and I will stand by that) Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's Emily's first non-local case since finding out you were pregnant, and you're both struggling. Especially because it means she'll have to miss you first prenatal appointment–and the first sound of your baby's heartbeat. Maybe there's still a way to share the moment, though...

Week 10: The Kumquat

Your heart beat wildly as you pulled into the parking lot of the OBGYN’s office. You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and checked your phone. Nothing. You groaned and rubbed your forehead.

You had a hard time with doctors, particularly with gynecologists–a stubborn remnant of past trauma. Emily knew that. Emily knew it was your first appointment and that you’d be scared. She’d wanted to come along; she would have asked all the questions you'd forget.

But duty called. It always did. You’d gotten lucky over the last month since finding out you were pregnant. The BAU hadn’t caught any huge cases and, even the cases they did catch had been local enough that Emily still made it home to you most nights. But, of course, your luck had run out.

You were angry with Emily for leaving, but you knew that was unreasonable. This is what you’d signed up for. Her job was important to her. It was important to you. The fact that she was so passionate about and dedicated to her team and the work they did was one of the things you loved most about her. You were always sad to see her leave and, yes, sometimes frustrated when she had to miss things you’d planned together, but at the end of the day, you knew she loved you, and that was all that mattered.

But this time. This time you were struggling. You tried not to take it out on Emily too much; it wasn’t her fault that your hormones were going wild. You were more everything than usual. More angry at her for leaving, more sad while she was gone, more terrified of going to the doctor.

You glared at your message-less phone for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and texting Emily.

Headed into the OBGYN🤞 I wish you were here. Be safe love 💗

You waited a few minutes with no response, taking a deep breath to swallow your rage. For all you knew, she could be in a bulletproof vest trying to talk down a murderer right now. She loves you, you reminded yourself. If she could be here, she would.

In the office, you were assaulted with the smell of rubbing alcohol and Lysol. You filled out what felt like a full novella of personal and family medical history. When they finally called you back, you felt like a science experiment–poked and prodded and measured. When the doctor pulled out the stirrups, you flinched.

“Is that necessary?” you asked.

She nodded at you. “Sorry. It’s just been long enough since your last Pap smear that I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

You hated it. Hated the whole process, you always did. It was painful and invasive and it made you remember things you’d really rather not remember. Emily usually went with you, to let you squeeze her hand and to whisper that it was okay, you were safe.

You clenched and felt tears prick at your eyes as the cold metal forced its way into you. Hands gripping at the paper covering the seat, you tried your very best to imagine Emily’s voice, her face, the smell of her hair. And you tried not to feel too furious that she wasn’t there. It’s not her fault, you repeated like a mantra.

They took some blood, they asked about running tests to screen for the baby’s health.

“Yes,” you said. “Run all of them.”

“The good news,” the doctor continued, “about these tests is that you also get to find out the gender earlier if that’s something you want.”

You knew you’d need to talk to Emily about it, but part of you didn’t want to know. Emily stubbornly calling the baby he, so sure was she that it was a boy, and you calling the baby she out of pure spite, had become an endearing part of your pregnancy to you. You might just rather be surprised.

“Now for the fun part!” the doctor said, clapping her hands together. “Would you like to try and find the heartbeat?”

Your stomach fluttered with excitement. “Really!? Isn’t it too early?”

“Sometimes we can hear it early with Doppler.”

You nodded vigorously, lifting up your shirt. It was the only time in your life you’d voluntarily had a doctor examine you.

She pressed the device to your lower belly, searching for sound. You waited rapt, barely breathing, so scared were you that you’d miss it.

But then: a whooshing sound and a quick, urgent, pattering heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. You grinned wide.

“That’s her?” you asked, giddy.

The doctor nodded.

You felt like crying, from pure joy, but also because you wished Emily was here. She would be so sad, so sad, to have missed this. But maybe you could bring the heartbeat to her.

You took out your phone. “Can I record this?” you asked. “I want to send it to my wife.”

“Of course,” the doctor said.

You pressed the record button on your Voice Memos, and recorded a good thirty seconds of the baby’s heartbeat, knowing that Emily would listen to it again and again and again.

When you finally left the office, proud of yourself, you hopped in the car and checked your phone. Still nothing. You sent off another text to Emily.

Must be a hard day. ❤️Here’s something to cheer you up! 👶🏻🫀I miss you. Call when you can.

Later that night, as you lay in bed reading, your phone started buzzing. You smiled wide. Emily.

“Good evening, Agent Prentiss,” you joked.

“The heartbeat!” she squealed, so loud you had to hold the phone away from your ear.

You grinned and gushed. “Isn’t it the most beautiful heartbeat you’ve ever heard!?”

“Yes! After yours, of course.”

“Wow, you’re laying it on thick.”

“I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Emily sounded genuinely sad. “Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s okay,” you said, most of your anger dissipating the moment the words I’m sorry left her mouth.

“It’s not okay. I should’ve been there. You hate going to the doctor, and it’s our baby. It’ll get easier after we tell my team. Then I can take a step back.”

“It’s really okay, Em.”

She sighed, and you could tell there was nothing you could say that would alleviate her guilt. She’d carry it with her until she was home again, until she could scoop you up and hold you and take care of you the way she wanted to.

“Was everything okay? With you and Little Kumquat?”

“Kumquat looks good. Healthy as a horse. I–” You thought about the Pap smear, the taste of metal seeping into your mouth. “I’m okay, too.”

“You’re lying.” Emily’s voice shifted, now deep and concerned. “Y/N, what happened?”

“I’m not lying!” Sometimes you really hated being married to a profiler.

Emily grew more panicked. “Is something wrong? Honey, do I need to come home?”

“No! Em, it’s just…” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “They had to do a Pap smear.”

The line was quiet for a moment before Emily spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shaky, afraid if you tried to say more you might start crying.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I know how hard those are for you.”

You stayed quiet, willing yourself not to cry. Emily felt guilty enough; you crying would make it ten times worse.

“Listen, I’m at a hotel tonight, okay? I’ll have my phone by me all night. I know sometimes you get nightmares after, so just call me if you wake up, okay?”

“Emily, you don’t have to do that,” you said softly. “You need sleep.”

“I won’t sleep one wink if I’m worried about you all night, so promise me you’ll call.”

“Okay. I promise.”

“Thank you. Ugh, Rossi’s waving me over. I gotta go, but I love you so much, and I miss you every second, and I can’t wait to get home to you.”

“I love you, too.”

You slept with your phone on the pillow next to you that night, and it wasn’t the same as having Emily there, especially when you woke up gasping in a cold sweat. But her voice lulling you back to sleep was pretty close, and you were so, so glad to have her–even from far away.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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marragurl · 1 day

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Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most confront in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #hsr sunday #galladay #idk what I’m doing anymore #they’ve kinda taken over my mind #shoutout to that one ao3 fic where both of them go “’this wasn’t supposed to happen’ as they’re making out #that’s the exact vibes I’m feeling when I think about these two pre-relationship #of course we don’t run away from angst in this ship #everything follows exactly up until the 2.1 end credits scene #let’s see what happens in 2.2 #I NEED ANSWERS #ALSO MISHA #I WANNA THROW GALLAGHER AND MISHA’S KINDA WHOLESOME RELATIONSHIP IN HERE TWO #idk wtf is going on there #but until 2.2 explains #Gallagher is misha’s weird drunk uncle/dad figure #it adds more comedy to Galladay whether Sunday knows of/can see Misha or not either way #oof new writing idea #next time #I need to work on tagging #this is just another post all on its own

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void-of-unparalled-chaos · 2 days

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Okay so time for me to dump my thoughts on the Underworld Saga because I am going insane and tbh I'm not sure how coherent this will be because my brain is mostly keyboard smashing.

The Shades: "When does a man become a monster? 558 men who died under your command. CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! Why would you let the cyclops live when ruthlessness is mercy?"

Okay so the harmonies of the Shades are amazing! But also this whole bit is just so... haunting. The call back to Just a Man and Ruthlessness does something to me. Could you imagine being screamed at by the ghosts of everyone you've failed? Also Jay confirmed that the shades in this song are just repeating their final thoughts in life. They drowned begging for their Captain to help them and died wondering why he failed them. This probably fucked Odysseus UP.

Odysseus: "I keep thinking of the infant from that night. I keep thinking of the infant from that night."

I swear I can hear the PTSD in his voice holy shit. Also Astyanax's music box motif being played in church bells in the back. I never would have noticed it if not for Jay's behind the scenes videos but knowing it's there makes this bit so much better.

Odysseus: "Polities..."

I was not nearly as wrecked at this bit until I saw this post mentioning that Odysseus quiet little "Polities..." is a mirror of Polities strangled "Captain..." when he died and now I will never be the same.

Odysseus' Mom

I am not exaggerating when I say I cried during the watch party. Everything about this is heartbreaking. His mom was thinking about him in her final moments. "Odyssues when you come home I'll be waiting" except she wont be. The shocked defeat in Odysseus' voice with "I took too long...". He's right there in front of her, but her shade just doesn't register him. They are so close physically yet still separated by death. Also the fact that Jay's mom voices her that is so sweet omg.

The change from "Here in the Underworld the past seems close behind" to "But in the Underworld your past is always close behind."

STTAGKDUKFUTAATUFOUCOUXGJXG

THE STRINGS!!!!! AND THE PIANO!!!!

Tiresias' voice is so haunting omg

Mason absolutely NAILED prophet who is constantly being shown everything all the time at one I love it sm.

The lyrics in this song are just.... so good. And the foreshadowing is top notch

Jay's voice acting for Odysseus' is also great in this.

The distress and frustration in "We've suffered and sailed through the toughest of hells. Now you tell us ur efforts are for NOTHING?!" and the absolute anger in "WHO!?!?!" (Its you, Ody. See your about to go through a complete change in morals about 5 minutes from now and become a completely different person).

THE DESCENDING ORGAN FOR THE SECOND CHORUS MY JAW DROPPED

Jorge don't think I didn't notice the Hunchback of Notre Dame, Hellfire, vibes at the end I see you.

This is my favorite song released in Epic so far and I am not normal about it at all.

The GUITAR! THE ELECTRIC GUITAR!

For those unfamiliar and being dragged along this nonsense post, Odysseues character is associated with the guitar. The acoustic guitar is when he is softer, kinder, and more "human" while the electric guitar represents him at his most brutal, ruthless, and "monsterous". This song is his turning point to which he is done being merciful. He will do ANYHTING to get home.

"Oh Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves..."

Really taking Poseidon's lesson to heart there.

Odysseus: "AND IF I GOTTA DROP ANOTHER INFANT FROM A WALL IN AN INSTANT SO WE ALL DON'T DIE? THEN I'LL BECOME THE MONSTER! I WILL DEAL THE BLOW!... SO WHAT IF I'M THE MONSTER?"

Ayrsgstusigxjgsutaut holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Play this back to back with Just A Man for some psychic damage. What an end for Act 1!

#epic the underworld saga #epic the musical

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poisonouspastels · 8 months

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@beegswaz genuinely i think my favorite tags on any of my work ever. i fucking love when people talk abt my characters like this

#its like blorbo from my show but with fucking minecraft and i love it deeply #for the record both Groda and White Eyes get socialized in the modern world like feral cats #both by the main players but it does happen at different times bc they all encountered Groda first when she held Rana hostage for bait #she'd kinda gone crazy after all those years of isolation lol #did that bc she thought Herobrine was the knight who betrayed her during the time period where people were wanting to overthrow her #(the knight worked for the royal family and was one of Groda's childhood friends. that did not last needless to say)#thankfully at the end of the day all 4 of the main players managed to get out alive though not unharmed with Groda in tow #when there's something trying to kill you every other day in this universe though they honestly cant be too mad about it #it doesnt help that Groda is just Really Stupid sometimes (all the time)#she's literally Peridot from SU in that she seems really intimidating but in hindsight is a massive dork #and also the fact that is the voice i imagine her having its so good #once her ability to use magic is taken away she's literally just like a scared feral street cat. does not know what the FUCK is going on #also rendering her communication with 3/4ths of the players useless since she only knows Galactic and no one alive knows that but Herobrine #(not helping the coincidental similarities to the knight but thats not him) she'll learn commonspeak later tho #ironically later down the line when Groda is spotted by the cult getting her magic back will be a key part in taking down White Eyes #she really does want to change for the better but she needed a LOT of shit kicked into her in order to start actually making the change #that being said when White Eyes eventually gets integrated it IS On Sight #she has had to been quite literally pried of Groda AT LEAST once by the others in order to keep from killing her #but other than that she'll be okay :) she picks up painting eventually #her open wounds are finally able to heal over once released from the influence of the Wither but she's still scarred unfortunately #mentally and physically!#but its only up from here... right?#actually since I talked abt the players first encounter with Groda im gonna reblog that aftermath comic again it still fucks #minecraft au mastertag

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aroaceleovaldez · 13 days

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finally finished my project of collecting voiceclaims that are as close as i can find for my hcs of the main HoO cast - just for funsies so it's not as perfect as I'd like but whatever, it was a neat exploration and exercise of me trying to think of literally any franchise for voice actors.

Leo got two cause I had trouble of finding good clips for the voiceclaim that's closers to my hcs for him (the second half of his section). Also got to play the fun game of digging through my art for decent doodles of each character.

Also fun fact, I am almost completely unfamiliar with 3 franchises in this video and was just digging for voice clips on youtube. Try to guess which ones.

#pjo #percy jackson #riordanverse #video #headcanon #headcanons #my art #jason also gets two but theyre the same so it doesnt count. and its mostly just cause silly. i had to.#and before anyone asks - ''is that Scaramouche's VA with Leo-?'' yes but i have zero genshin knowledge #and the voice he does for Scaramouche isnt quite what i have in mind for Leo #also 2nd fun fact i briefly considered Vash for Jason but then i realized. same VA as Lio #as hilarious as it would be to have Jason and Nico share a VA voiceclaim i will refrain #Piper's is a bit higher than i'd like but Michiru definitely has the right energy for what i imagine for her #when her voice dips lower that's a lot closer to what i imagine. the energy is close enough though that im fine with the pitch difference #Percy's is very amusing to me. like yeah no Percy has Haru energy. that works out great #normal Haru or abridged Haru? you decide #that is genuinely SUPER close to how i picture his voice though. everyone forgets Percy is a lil monotone and intimidating sometimes #let him be quiet and brooding but his internal monologue is just ''LIFE IS LIKE A HURRICANE~ HERE IN~ DUCKBURG~''#the voicelines in general are also just. so Percy. its so perfect im so pleased with that one #anyways. throws this into the ether #i might remake this if i can find closer voices - feel free to throw suggestions at me #also might try to make one for other characters if i can find good voiceclaims for them

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perenlop · 13 days

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pokeani moments that exist purely to make Me miserable:

the line where they call ash's oshawott a throwaway pokemon in the unova league so they're just flat out saying they think it's a worthless pokemon

to thine own pokemon be true (extra angst points for me bc ambipom was my second favorite on the team at the time)

the granddaughter of the guy who trains gliscor calling gliscor pathetic and weak to her face despite gliscor being an extremely sensitive pokemon

pretty much everything about that gible

blue episode (favorite color but they made it a fetish somehow and also dewott and brionne and meowstic are all there and its so bad)

boxing heracross immediately. also that battle frontier episode where it's literally the only returning ash mon (barring torkoal i think but i dont count it bc its native to AG) to get humiliated onscreen

pidgeot returning but gliscor didn't even show up in the miniseries despite being an Actual Character

#sorry ik i keep bringing up the throwaway line but like. its SOOOOOOOOOO bad holy shit #the heracross one isnt aaaaaas bad tbf bc they really make up for it in the sinnoh league #but aside from one ep in the miniseries we never quite get an episode where oshawott proves itself in a battle #i still love that episode bc it still kinda feels like an apology for all the oshawott bashing in bw but i am a little :/#that battling didnt even come up once #ive kiiinda eased up on gliscors benching episode bc at the end of the day it isssss pretty good to her. also its the best animated one #but its treatment like what i mentioned that still really drags it down to me #and also like. i know ppl praise gliscor being so powerful after the episode but i really dont get why we couldnt have just #had a gliscor training arc onscreen. but ig we wouldnt have that stupid ass gible plot that went nowhere now would we #but like.... we had such a huge stretch between that episode and the league. i really dont get why we couldnt have had a mini arc #where gliscor realizes shes not pulling her weight that well and really starts hauling ass #she doesnt really even sweep in the paul fight. she gets beaten immediately by ninjask #the drapion part was awesome tho yayyyy #but my point is that it wouldnt really change much if gliscor just stayed and got stronger on its own #have the bench episode be a wake up call for gliscor rather than a goodbye one and she becomes super competent #like im not just saying this bc gliscor is my favorite character in the entire show. i feel like its straight up kinda lazy and less reward #rewarding #imagine how the drapion fight could be EVEN MORE cathartic if we saw gliscor struggle and fight to get better throughout the show #as much as i like that specific battle and ash vs paul as a whole... it just kinda proves my point that sending gliscor away at all #was kind of a shitty move #like ohhhhh ash's team is all getting revenge for lake acuity yay!!!!! oh one of them was kicked off for the sake of a shitty gible plot th #which really only served to make shitty piplup bashing jokes and only actually had a conclusion in the league itself #by which time it was too late to actually do anything else with it. yeah we kicked someone off for that. but shes back now!!!#like it doesnt weaken the battle THAT much. in fact theres some value in how ash went out of his way to make sure gliscor could be there #so her defeat could also be avenged. and its still my fave battle in the whole anime. but it just proves to me how pointless that was reall #echoed voice

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buckyalpine · 7 months

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Imagine jealous!sharon want to get you out of the way so she can be with Bucky…

She hurts you (even it’s like a bruise) and Bucky begins to be so protective of you 🥺🥵

ABSOLUTELY.

I'm imaging this with a soft sweet reader and fuckboi Bucky. Hear me out, okay.

He's not looking for a relationship at all, finally feeling a sense of freedom after getting a bit of himself back. He's so flirty with everyone, so charming, he knows he can get whoever he wants.

He fucks.

A lot.

Sharon eats it up, loving the smirks he gives her, his playful baby blue eyes always sparkling. She loves the naughty way he bites his lip and don't even get her started on how gorgeous he is when he works out shirtless. His Brooklyn accent comes out when he calls her darlin' and it makes her weak in the knees.

There's just one issue.

The looks he gives Sharon aren't special. She's not the only one he calls darlin', even the old lady at the coffee shop shares the same pet name. Bucky can't help the little smirks he tosses around to others, flirty compliments naturally falling from his lips. He's a bit of a heart breaker but it's who he is.

That's just Bucky.

That's Bucky with everyone else.

Then there's Bucky with you.

The quite lab assistant who worked at the compound.

He didn't have it in him to playfully flirt with you when you asked about his day. He actually liked talking to you, finding any excuse under the sun to keep the conversation going, poking at the little nick knacks you have on your desk so he doesn't have to leave so quickly.

Sharon hates the way he looks at you. Whenever he's around you, he looks at you with puppy eyes as if he's wondering how someone so sweet could possibly exist. She catches onto the way he's not the same with you as he is with others. He's called everyone in passing darlin' with a drawl of his voice but you're his doll. He's never used that with anyone else. That's reserved just for you.

She can't stand it.

At first she tries to pick you apart in subtle ways' maybe you'd finally realize you had no business talking to someone like Bucky.

"You're so pretty even though you wear glasses"

"Don't worry, that dress would still look good on your body type, its meant to suit everyone"

"I wish I was as brave as you to wear that! I'd love to have that much confidence but I could never"

She smiled sweetly while you pulled your lab coat closer together, clutching it tightly in your hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. You'd worn one of your favorite dresses, one many others had always said you looked perfect in but some how Sharon made you doubt that, despite her sugary smile.

Then she took it a step further to make sure you were more isolated, insisting you'd be uninterested in plans when the team wanted to go out. Purposely giving you extra work when they had drinks together. Anything to keep you sad and holed away in your lab while she kept Bucky all to herself.

She'd do anything to get rid of you.

She was almost certain everything was going accordingly to plan, inching closer and closer to Bucky during a movie night until she was pressed against him, sharing his blanket. Not that Bucky noticed since he was more distracted over the fact that Sam was also squished against him on the other side of the small couch. Sam was also buried under the now too hot blanket, his deep snores irrupting the movie having fell asleep on Bucky's shoulder.

"Damn bird brain" Bucky huffed, ignoring the fact that he pushed Sharon off while reluctantly adjusting himself so Sam's head wouldn't slip, shaking his head when Sam grumbled, trying to snuggle into Bucky more.

"Bet you wish that was y/n, huh" Tony wiggled his eyebrows and much to Sharon's distain, Bucky blushed. Not did he deny it.

It didn't matter though. She'd find a way to get Bucky's attention, it wasn't like you were real competition anyways. She figured you'd have the sense to like someone better suited for you, someone in your league, definitely not the very handsome Sergeant.

That was until she found out you had a crush on the super soldier yourself. You'd let it slip out during a conversation with Nat, not realizing there was someone near the lab. Sharon didn't think you actually had a chance with Bucky but it didn't matter.

At this point she didn't care about what it took.

She was sick of the way Bucky was soft over you.

So she took a more direct approach.

"Y'know, I heard someone has a little crush on a certain super soldier" Sharon smirked, wandering to your table, tinkering with one of your tools while you looked at her like a deer caught in head lights.

How did she know?!"

"I-I don't-

"Oh please y/n, everyone knows" the blonde rolled her eyes at your gaping mouth before continuing, "I just thought I should let you know that he's not interested"

You felt like you had been punched in the stomach, the hurt expression on your face made her satisfied,.

"Oh" Was all you mustered out, embarrassed beyond belief while she shrugged. You blinked back tears while Sharon squeezed your shoulder out of faux concern, handing you a tissue.

"I'm so sorry, honestly I just thought you should know because he likes me. And I like him. So it would be best for you to move on, because were seeing each other" It didn't matter if it was a lie because she intended on making it real soon enough.

From that day, you avoided everyone in the compound like the plague, throwing yourself into work, feeling ridiculous for having even thought of Bucky that way. Of course he'd never go for someone like you, you should've known that from the start.

Sharon's plan was short lived after she overheard Bucky worriedly asking Tony about where you'd been all week since he hadn't seen you. After some endless teasing, Tony reassured him you were fine and just busy with lab work, not knowing the true reason as to why you'd overloaded yourself.

Sharon despised the pink that decorated Bucky's cheeks whenever someone said your name.

She hated that she'd seen him walking by the lab hallway in search of you.

She'd do anything to end all of this.

Including hurt you.

You made your way down to the gym hoping to sweat some of your unrequited feelings away, putting on your headphones before hopping on the treadmill. Sharon walked in moments later, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her toned body on full display in nothing but a sports bra and some tiny shorts.

You felt even worse.

You tried to stay hidden, deciding 15 minutes would be enough, though your escape was cut short with Sharon caught your arm just as you were about to leave.

"How about we spar for a bit" She smiled sweetly, giggling at your confused expression. You'd never sparred in your life, in fact this was probably the third time you'd even used the gym the entire time you'd lived at the compound.

"Sharon, I-I don't think that's a good idea, I've never-

She cut you off, dragging you to the mat, practically shoving you to the middle with more force than necessary.

"It's fine! I mean, it's good for you to learn since you work here n'all C'mon, I'll help you and show you what to do" Before you could say anything, Sharon had flipped you onto the mat, twisting your arm behind your back without warning. You gasped in pain as she gripped harder, pulling further up your back until she heard your joints crack.

"Let-let go" You winced out, confused over what part of sparring this was, your body hitting the floor when she released her grip.

"Ops" Sharon pouted with faux innocence, taking a long sip from her water while you hissed in pain, seeing the formation of a bruise already forming on your arm.

"SHARON"

Sharon squeaked in surprised at the loud voice that boomed through the gym, bouncing off the walls. Her eyes shot up to see a very angry super solder making his way over to the mat, eyes darkening as they landed to your injured form on the ground.

"What the fuck did you do?!"

"Bucky, we were just-

"Don't" Bucky growled through gritted teeth, rushing over to your side, and slipping his arm around your waist.

"Angel, are you okay?" He cupped your cheek, helping you to your feet and taking your hand in his, examining it with the utmost care. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"M'all right" You nodded, your face heating up under his gaze, still a little shaken, your body trembling.

"How the fuck could you hurt her" Bucky spat, his metal hand clenched to his side, itching to punch Sharon in the jaw, having seen what she had just done but he didn't want to deal with the mess that would come afterwards. "The hell did you do that for"

"Excuse me? I was just showing her how to-"

Bucky's jaw clenched, instantly shutting her up. He refused to let go of you, keeping you firmly tucked into his side, growing unbelievably protective over you.

"Fine, go ahead, I'm sure she's different from all your other little side pieces" Sharon scoffed, smirking at the way your face fell. Bucky felt like he'd been hit in the chest; you were far more than any of his hook ups and he'd never considered treating you that way.

"You. Don't. Touch. Her" He glared her at before walking off with you. After the incident, Bucky insisted you go to the doctors to get checked over, waiting outside of the room like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help but feel guilty that all this had happened because of him. He also wondered that you thought.

Did you think he'd just use you for one night?

He would never.

He knew he wasn't into dating. He gave up on the dream of getting married, having kids, all that years ago. But that was before he met you. Ever since you'd thrown him a shy smile along with the softest hello Sergeant Barnes, Bucky had been a goner.

If his feelings were was bad before, it was even worse now.

You were told to ice your arm for the pain and swelling. Bucky had swept you away right to the kitchen, despite you telling him you'd be fine, plopping you onto the kitchen island wrapping an ice pack in a towel. He held it to your arm, frowning at the way you refused to look at him, your face downcast to the floor.

"Doll?" Bucky wrapped his arms around you for a comforting hug, wondering if the altercating with Sharon was still upsetting you, "Are you okay sweets? I missed you, haven't seen you in ages"

"I-I'm fine, I'm sorry" You pulled away from his arms, remembering Sharon's words from earlier, instantly missing the warmth of his body. "I know you don't feel the same way Bucky" You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

Bucky blinked in confusion, having no idea what you were talking about. What did he not feel the same way over.

"What do you mean y/n"

"I mean I like you-but I know you don't like me that way so I kept myself busy so I wouldn't bother you because Sharon said-

"Wait, slow down, what did Sharon say"

You sighed before recounting all the things that had lead to this moment, Sharon insulting you, then telling you to back off, to straight up fighting you.

"Oh doll" Bucky shook his head, feeling worse over what had happened but over the moon over your confessed feelings, "She's right you know," He teased at the pout that made it's way to your lips before playfully pecking them, catching you by surprise.

"I don't do relationships. Certainly never had before. That was before I met the sweetest thing in the world and she's had my heart since" Bucky whispered, his hands, one warm, one cool cupping your cheeks, "She has me dreamin' of sayin' I do and that white picket fence, a ring on her finger, a pretty little baby bump with flowers on the window sill. Maybe a baby boy n' a baby girl. Maybe even a cat. She's the cutest little lab assistance and I'd love for her to be my girl, sweets"

Bucky held your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing over your warm cheeks while you grew bashfully shy, burying your face into his chest instead, making him chuckle.

"I didn't think you were the relationship type" You shrugged, toying with his dog tags, "I'm not you're darlin' Bucky"

"That's cause you're my doll" Bucky tilted your face up making you look up at him, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your nose and then your lips. "My one and only doll"

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theyluvkarolina · 14 days

Text

𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐒

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` The monster's gone…He's on the run… And your daddy's here ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ being a father of a baby has it’s ups and downs, but stress gets to the best of us.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ max, charles, lando, x fem!reader (separate)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ besides kids and pregnancy… jos verstappen (ALL MY HOMIES HATE JOS!!), a very very very small jules reference, google translated languages

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ heyyy… hey.. how ya’ll doing? 🫣🫣 FINALLY DONE! Sorry to be out for so long! not very happy with my lando piece though. I had a idea but I think i failed to execute it well :(. also, this this a very different format then what i’m used to doing now, so I hope you guys enjoy it 🩷

𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍

BEING a father was never a idea that made its way into Max’s mind, in fact, it’s something he’s scared of. From the get go, all he thought about and dedicated his time to was racing, from the break of dawn to the dead of night. If anything, if present day Max met himself in his teenage years, teenage Max would scoff in his face probably. With Jos, Max was on constant eggshells, were pleasing his father was forever his goal. But things change. Things changed since he started Formula One finally gaining some independence, and a noticeable change once he met you.

With you, Max felt loved. He never had to please you as long as he was being himself. He didn’t have to get first. He didn’t have to work his ass off everyday to impress his father. He got to show off his personality and didn’t have to suppress his stubbornness, or his humor. And he loved you for that.

Formula One will always be a priority, but Max’s tiers of importance changed 6 months ago, those 6 months ago where a new member of the Verstappen family entered the world. A little girl to be exact. Max never imagined himself as a father to a little girl, but after seeing her once she was born and getting to hold her, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

It was quiet. Perfectly quiet. The Monaco sun pushing its way through the blinds of the nursery as Max rocked back and forth in the chair, little girl in his arms, the sound of the waves hitting the rocks down at the shore being faintly heard from your guys’ apartment. It was early in the morning, 7 AM to be exact and as you rested up in bed, Max decided this will be his opportunity to spend some missed time with his little girl.

Looking down at her round face, he examined her features. The curve of her lips, the shape of her eyes, the silhouette of her nose. All of her features were yours besides her nose, inheriting Max’s profile. Everything was perfect to him. Too perfect.

The more Max looked at her stroking her cheek, the more he wondered if he was up for this.

He had no healthy representation of a father figure.

What if he lashed out at her like Jos did?

What if he can’t be the father she deserves?

What if-

“I know that look.” Your voice breaks him out of his trance. Max looked up from where he was sitting, seeing you stand in the doorway. “Care to share, Mr. Champion?” You asked, offering a smile, walking over to him.

“You’re supposed to be resting, Schatje.” He whispers out, getting up before placing the little on in the crib.

“Mom’s don’t get a chance to rest.” You say with a slight laugh before curving your lips into a frown. “What’s wrong Max?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“It’s just-Godverdomme…” He starts, before turning to you. “Am I a good dad?”.

“Max… you are a amazing dad. I promise you. She loves you so much, you have no idea how much.” You reassure him.

“…I’m scared. I don’t want to turn into my dad.” He whispers out, moving his gaze to the little girl in the crib. “What if I turn into my dad?”

“Max, look at me. Will you?” You say putting a hand on his cheek, making his eyes meet yours. “You aren’t him and you never will be. Knowing that what your father did is the first step in the right direction. She loves you. Everytime she sees you on TV, she lights up like the sun. If you weren’t a good father, she wouldn’t have been so calm in your arms. You aren’t Jos, Max. You are you and I love you. I wouldn’t have married you if I knew otherwise.” You explain, giving him a soft smile as he looks back at you.

Max gives a tight lipped response, glancing back at his daughter, using his hand to smoothen her baby hairs and cracking a smile.

Maybe he is more prepared for his little girl than he thought…even the princess tea parties in the future. And he can’t wait.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂

CHARLES would give up the world if it meant being a father. Growing up with three brothers, it was only natural of him to want kids of his own.

When you showed him the pregnancy test at Austrian GP, and uttered the words of a “I’m pregnant” while in the garage, he officially marked it as the best day of his life, second to marriage of course. His eyes going comically wide before immediately lifting you up, spinning you around as the crowd cheered and the Ferrari staff members offering their congratulations.

As the months passed along with the trimesters, Charles treated you like a piece of fine china. You weren’t even allowed to stand after 2 minutes without Charles fussing like a mother hen.

“Y/N, chérie, please sit down!” Is most likely the most common sentence he’s said in his life for 9 months.

Since the delivery of your son, Charles has been supporting you nonstop, if anything, even more than during the pregnancy. The second Charles saw him, tears gathered in his eyes, and in those dark blue eyes, boy was the light of his life. A new beginning. A new motivation. A motivation to push himself even harder. A motivation to try his best in every grand prix, but most of all, a motivation to love you and your son till his last breath.

It was the dead of night, calm and tranquil before cries disrupt the silence of the night. Rubbing your eyes, and checking the clock to read 2:34 AM, letting out a sigh, you lift the sheets off the bed before a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Go back to sleep amour, I’ll get him. You rest up, okay?” Charles says in a hushed tone, his voice still laced with sleep and his dark brown waves in a tangled mess from the pillow.

"But Charles, the season just finished... if anything you should-" You started before he placed a finger on your lips lightly.

"Sleep. Please. You've done more than enough when I was not here.." He pleaded.

Giving a nod, you slowly make your way back to bed, still awake though.

He cracks open the nursery room, lifting the little boy into his arms.

"Oh mon loulou, qu'est-ce que c'est ? Maman gave you food.. your diaper is changed..." Charles murmurs into to himself bouncing the little one up and down. The Ferrari driver was at a loss, nothing seemed to be wrong, but there was and he didn't know what to do as the crying simply continued.

"How about we take a walk?" Charles talked as if the little one can respond. The Monégasque steadily left the room, holding your son close before stopping in front of a photo taken of you and Charles on your first date. The photo shows you, smilingly a bit awkwardly at the camera, but charming nonetheless, with Charles next to you with a closed lip smile.

"There's maman at our first date. Doesn't she look pretty? Actually.. she is still the most beautiful woman in the world. She was very shy the entire time… “ Charles commented pointing at the photo, a smile gracing his lips. The little boys cries soon turn into whimpers, his little head turned to the image his parents.

“Oh, and here is of me and Maman at our wedding.” The driver commented, thinking fondly as he pointed to the photo next to it the previous. This time, it was of you both kissing underneath the arch of greenery and flowers. “This was before you were born…ou conçu” He muttered the last part..

You smiled at the not so subtle whispers of Charles as he recollects his memories from the past as the baby in his arms finally quiets down, Charles smoothening his tufts of dark hair that have become more apparent as time passed.

“And this… is when you were born…” Charles says with a smile before noticing that the baby fell asleep.

"You’re not exactly quiet y’know…” You say with a teasing tone.

“Y/N, what are you doing up still?” Charles questioned, adjusting the baby in his arms, slightly taken aback by your sudden presence. “…did you… hear everything?” He continued, a rosy tint lightly coating his cheeks in the dim light, as if a little kid caught red-handed.

“Well… the conversion was hard not to listen to.” You say, giving a tired smile. “He looks just like you, y’know that? From the lips, to the shape of his eyes… the curve of his nose…” You continue, taking the little one from his arms, giving a kiss to both him and Charles.

"Does he really?” Charles asked, turning to you with his bright, signature lopsided smile, his dimples showing before looking down at your son, his smirk slowly disappearing.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? You seem worried…” You question, raising a brow with a concerned tone.

"Be honest with me…please?” He pleaded, seemingly embarrassed by the question he’s going to ask. You give a nod, signaling him to continue.

“Do you think he will hate me?” Charles blurted out. “I mean, I rarely spend time at home, leaving you to do all work in the apartment for more than half of the year and with the baby and your work- I just… I don’t want him to think that his father hates him for always travelling.“ You blink before sighing, placing your palm onto his cheek as you hold your son in one arm.

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc. Our little boy will never hate you or anything of the such. You are the sweetest, and most loving father any child can ask for. I trust you and I love you.” You comfort him, stroking his stubbly cheek, making his charming grin return.

“…Thank you.”

“There’s that smile I love. Now come on… not only does our little Jules need his sleep, we do too.”

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒

LANDO didn’t think he’d be a father so young. If anything, Lando planned his future superbly. Complete Formula One with at least a world championship underneath his belt, get married, move back to England to be close to family, and eventually start his own family. But sometimes you have to live in the present instead of the future.

Needless to say, your pregnancy was unplanned. With a celebration of a podium win, alcoholic drinks, and the lights of the club, one thing led to another. Telling him was the stressful part but everything turned out better than believed.

The second you told him, his eyes widened before asking a “..Are you serious?”. As soon as you confirmed a bright, boyish smile overtook him, wrapping you in a tight hug and placing kisses all over your face and eventually onto your lower abdomen. During your pregnancy, he wanted the world to know and proudly showed you off. That’s when you knew everything will be perfectly fine with you, him and your new addition to the family.

It would be lying to say that the performance of McLaren during the Japanese GP was great. The strategy was below average, the cars were not at their best performance, but most of all, no podium for Lando or Oscar. Lando was frustrated. Even though it’s so early in his career, Lando feels as if he’s falling behind. And having no wins is rubbing salt in the wound. Having to be known as the racer with such a noticable and bold personality, he wants to prove himself to not only the fans, but journalists that he capable of being a world champion in given time.

“Fuckin’ hell..” Lando muttered, running a hand through his curly hair as he sat down on his driver's room couch. P5. If anything, most drivers will dream of a P5, but Lando wanted more. What could he have done differently?

What if he reacted faster to the lights out?

What if he made that turn quicker?

What if he listened to his impulses?

Will he ever win a race in his life?

Will he always be a disappointment to his girlfriend and daughter?

“I can hear what you’re thinking from a mile away Lando.” You snap him out of his thoughts, turning his head to face you as you hold your daughter. “I came to check on you. You left right after the interviews and we couldn’t find you. This little lady started to get fussy without you.”

“Did she now?” He asked, giving a smile to overshadow his frowning from earlier. trying to steer the topic away from the attention on him.

“Lando, I’m worried about you. You’ve been so… distant lately. Tell me what’s wrong.” You try to persuade him, taking a seat onto the driver’s room coach next to him.

“You don’t need to worry, it’s nothing major. Just-“

“Just you being self-critical and thinking about what you can do different during the race even though you tried your best and have done everything you can given the car that you have?” You say, catching him off guard by how spot on you were.

“…well… that was spot on.” He comments jokingly, giving a rather melancholic look. “How did you know?”

“Lando, I’ve known you since we were 16 and started dating since we were 19. We are now 24 and have a kid together. I sure hope I get this stuff right.” You explained in a teasing tone, but a tender expression begins gracing your face. “Do you want to talk about it?” You question, placing a free hand noto his cheek in a comforting manner.

He gently moves your hand from his cheek, holding onto it instead. “I guess I just want to prove myself and not disappoint you, our little girl, and the team.”

“Lando, we are more than proud of you. Hell, we are above and beyond elevated with how you’ve been doing since you joined F1.” You comfort, adjusting the little one in your arms as she tried to grab your hair.

“…Even with no career wins..?” Lando asks, his gaze meeting yours.

“Look at me Lando. Having no wins is perfectly fine. The fact you even made it this far into your career is amazing in itself. You need to stop doubting yourself and taking away the credit you deserve.” You continue, giving a soft look.

“I don’t want to disappoint her when she gets older.” Lando explained, “Her father in Formula 1, driving for McLaren with no wins for 6 seasons so far. I don’t want her to be embarrassed by her classmates when she gets older because of me-” He sighed before a small hand patted his face harshly.

"BAH!” The little girl squealed, her hand still resting against Lando’s cheek.

Lando groaned, still a bit surprised by the sudden attack. “What is it silly girl? Are you not happy daddy is talking down on himself?” Lando asked, a genuine smile appearing on his face, taking her from your arms and placing her in his lap for her to stand on. She placed her hands on both of his cheeks now, as Lando stroked her curly hair back from her face.

“She’s just saying what we are thinking.” You laugh, resting your head on Lando’s shoulder.

“Saying? I’m not sure much saying is going on.” He replies with a raised brow.

“…You get what I mean.” You roll your eyes and get up from the couch.

“I do.” He answers with a smirk, also getting up while holding his daughter close to him.

“Come on now. Let’s get out of here and celebrate how far you’ve gotten.” You say giving Lando a kiss on the lips and a kiss to the little one’s forehead.

Yeah. Lando wouldn’t change this one bit.

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 month

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Hi! Spencer Reid x reader where reader is kind of panicking because she’s worried Spencer will get tired of her and find someone that’s more like him personality wise? But then Spence reassures her that he loves her and only her? 🎀🚬🤍🤎

fem bimbo!plus size reader, wc: 589.

cw! angst :(

a/n: no i am not going to let bimbo reader sleep, but also i've been posting so much aaron recently, which is funny because i've been so obsessed with spencer recently. thank you for your request!

“I guess opposites really do attract huh?”

It was just a joke. A harmless, well meaning joke that completely spun your world off of its axis.

You were aware of the differences between you and your boyfriend, but you never felt bad about it, nor did he ever make you think that you weren't good enough for him. You would have liked to think that your differences was what made Spencer fall in love with you; but now you’re not too sure.

Yeah, sure, you needed help with understanding certain things, and your processing was a bit slower than others, but that didn’t make you stupid or annoying… right?

What if you talked too much? What about that time that you kept interrupting Spencer while he was reading? Did you irritate him? Did he think about breaking up with you? You’d never had thoughts like these before because you never had a reason to. You always felt secure in your relationship with Spencer, like you were his equal.

Spencer wasn’t used to your silence, it was unusual and quite frankly it raised the red flags in his mind. He was so used to your rambling about anything and everything that the quietness of his apartment was making him itch.

“Sweetheart?” He called out softly.

It was almost as if his words scared you, your body jumping at the sound of him breaking the serene atmosphere of his almost dark academia-esque apartment.

“Yes?” Your voice was hushed and meek and Spencer absolutely hated it.

He set his book down on the side table where he uncurled his legs and patted the spot on the couch next to him. “C’mere.” You looked almost hesitant to move, but nonetheless you got up and sat down.

He grabbed your hand and held it firmly, but you didn’t make any effort to hold it back. It made Spencer nervous; did he do something?

“Sweetheart,” He reiterated. “Is something wrong?”

“Am I too much?” Your panic was quick to build. “What do you mean?” Spencer’s brows were furrowed inquisitively. “Like - like do I talk a lot? Or - or are my clothes too colorful? Do I ask too many questions?” Your speech fired out rapidly, almost as if you didn’t say what you wanted to know you may never do.

“Hey, hey, hey… no, no, stop.” Spencer was quick to shush you, opting to hold your face instead of your hand. “Did someone tell you that?” You shook your head, “No, yes? I don’t know. It - it was just because of that stupid joke Morgan had made.”

Ah, he remembers now.

“The one about opposites attracting?” You nod feebly. “And it got me thinking… what if I’m - what if I’m not a good match for you? You might want someone that’s similar to you, one that knows how to play chess and understands all those super cool facts you know.”

“Honey,” Spencer interrupts with a light laugh. “No.”

He wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at the sheer fact that he couldn’t imagine ever wanting someone else.

“I want you. I’ve only ever wanted you. I - I do admit that we are different, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I like that you aren’t like me. It’s comforting, and I just… I just love everything about you. I love you.”

“You promise?” You asked wetly with a pout. His lithe thumbs swipe at the tears trickling down your cheeks as he nodded, “Of course.”

“I love you too, Spencie.”

There you were. His girl.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

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soulofstarsandink · 10 months

Text

FORESHADOWING IN ACOTAR YOU MAY HAVE MISSED

*Spoilers*

1. Feyre painted the night sky on her drawer in the cottage.

2. Feyre had heard of Rhysand long before she met him. She recalled hearing of “One High Fae that could turn your bones to dust from a hundred yards away.”

3. One of the first things Lucien says to Feyre is that her eyes “are like stars.”

4. When first arrived at the Spring Court, Feyre unknowingly dresses herself in Night Court colours. (A dark blue tunic, another tunic “one of purple so deep it could have been black.”)

5. When Lucien and Feyre encounter the Bogge, Feyre distracts herself by thinking of “a starry, unclouded night sky, peaceful and glittering and endless.”

6. Rhysand appears as a “shadow I could never quite glimpse” in Feyre’s nightmares before they met. “Behind me - a shadow lurked - no, watched. I didn’t dare turn to look at it, to see who might be within the shadows, observing.”

7. Amarantha appeared in Feyre’s nightmares before she knew of her, as a “A pale, faceless woman dragging her bloodred nails across my throat” - a nightmare of Rhysands perhaps?

8. When the Suriel told Feyre to “Stay with the High Lord”, it didn’t specify which High Lord.

9. When Tamlin takes Feyre to see the pool of starlight, she describes the setting filling her with “both longing and mirth…it just seemed…right.”

10. Despite only having heard and not seen the Attor, Feyre manages to paint its exact image “a tall, skeletally thin gray creature with bat ears and giant, membranous wings.” How would she have been able to do this? Possibly an image from someone else’s mind?

11. During Calanmai, Feyre disregards Tamlin’s order to stay in her room as “there was a string - a string tied to my gut that pulled me towards those hills, commanding me to go, to hear the faerie drums…” “but a wild wicked voice weaving in between the drumbeats whispered otherwise. Go, that voice said, tugging at me. Go see.”

12. The first thing Rhysand ever says to Feyre is “There you are, I’ve been looking for you” before telling the three lesser faeries, “Thank you for finding her for me.”

13. During Feysand’s first encounter, Feyre thinks to herself Rhysand’s words “were tinged with an arrogance that only an immortal could achieve” to which he “laughed under his breath” having heard the insult.

14. When Feyre first drinks faerie wine, she describes it as “like a million fireworks exploring inside of me, filling my veins with starlight.”

15. Still intoxicated she states she wants to swim in the night sky, “to bathe in its colours and feel the stars twinkling between my fingers.”

16. Tamlin and Feyre had their first kiss during the shortest night of the year.

17. Rhysand states “only my prisoners and my enemies call me (Rhysand).” It’s then interesting that Feyre refers to him as ‘Rhys’ in her POV in moments when she can see beneath his villain mask. (And EXTRA interesting when she refers to him as such during their first kiss.)

18. When Rhysand senses Tamlin and Lucien have hidden Feyre “a flicker of excitement - perhaps disbelief - flashed across his features.”

19. Rhysand was the only person Under the Mountain that bet on Feyre slaying the worm.

20. Feyre’s bargain tattoo is similar to the Illyrian tattoos that are given for luck and glory.

21. When Rhysand dressed Feyre under the mountain he crowned her with a “small golden diadem imbedded with lapis lazuli” - a stone that inspires confidence and is worn by royalty.

22. When Rhysand informs Amarantha of his bargain with Feyre, it’s also an act of defiance as he mentions the bargain is “for the rest of her life”, hinting he believes she will survive the remaining tasks.

23. Before the second trial, Rhysand dresses Feyre in a ‘blood orange’ gown - a colour symbolising good fortune.

24. During their first mind convo, Rhysand says “Good girl.” (Not a fact, just hot tbh.)

25. When Rhysand sends the music to her cell, she unknowingly imagines Velaris and “a palace in the sky of alabaster and moonstone, where all that was lovely dwelled in peace…everything I wanted was there - the one I loved was there-“

｡･:*˚:✧｡

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #feyre archeron #feyreandrhysand #rhysand and feyre #feysand #sjm spoilers

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peachdues · 5 months

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SANEMI V. NO-NUT NOVEMBER

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆ ･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳

In honor of it being Thanksgiving in the US, I thought I would feed you all. Happy Turkey Day, skanks.

CW: MDNI. Explicit sexual content.

Let’s count the ways you’ve tortured him over the last thirty days

You would purposefully wait until he arrived back home at his estate before getting yourself off — in his bed, or in his private bath, so that Sanemi had to watch or feel you working yourself, whimpering his name as you imagined your fingers were his.

You’ve never seen a man wound tighter than Sanemi, coming home after a long night of fighting demons and having to put up with incompetent younger Corps members, who is greeted with the sight of his lover, in his bed, legs spread wide open as she plunges her fingers in and out of her wet and ready core, moaning his name.

You also were fond of trouncing around his estate wearing little clothing — if any. In fact, you were far more fond of wearing nothing but his haori as you cooked for him. Sanemi thought you wouldn’t be able to resist him sidling up behind you and sliding his hands between its open folds to rest on your bare waist. He thought.

As it turned out, you were more than happy to swat away his eager hands and resume chopping vegetables. Sanemi managed to hold in his groan of frustration until you bent over to pick up a stray piece of carrot that escaped the pot.

Not to mention it was his BIRTHDAY on the 29th and you wouldn’t so much as let him eat his favorite cake (your pussy)

“But I’m not the one being pleasured, it’s you,” Sanemi’s voice bordered on a whine as he danced his fingers down the curve of your outer thigh. You swatted his hand away. “Need I remind you that, on more than one occasion, you’ve had to change your clothes after spending time between my legs?” Sanemi’s eyes are nearly bulging out of his head as you primly turn away from him, tightening the blanket around your half-nude form. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me —“ “Goodnight, ‘Nemi. Happy Birthday.”

But when the clock hits 12:01 AM December 1?

“If you think you’re walking out of this not pregnant — or that you’re walking out of here at all —,” he said severely, yanking you by the calves until your ass was pressed against his thighs. “Then you’ve got another thing fuckin’ coming.”

Listen. Sanemi respects the fuck out of women, but you’ve been disrespecting him for the last month. He’s about to get MEAN.

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that Sanemi is going to need to purchase new furniture by the end of it; shit’s getting smashed by you two. The bed, dressers, tables, you name it, you’re getting fucked on it, and it’s getting broken.

You are being edged to oblivion. If you whine or complain, it only makes the punishment that much worse (so does crying but he actually wants to see those big fat tears). Sanemi breaks up pace consistently to ensure this happens. Also, he’s gonna cum as much as he wants, but you’re not until he says so.

And when he finally, finally lets you cum, don’t you dare think it’s over — now he’s going to overstimulate you until you’re sobbing (again)

“You think you’re done, sweet girl?” His saccharine coos made your stomach curl because you knew that tone meant he was being anything but sweet. “Like hell you are.” Sanemi flipped the pair of you over, forcing you to lay with your back against his chest, your arms pinned behind you. The hand not restraining you slid to your throat, gripping softly and tilting your head back against him as Sanemi began to thrust sharply up into you. “I’ve had to watch you cum around everything but me for the last month, darlin’,” his teeth sank down into the soft flesh between your shoulder and neck. The wince you made at the sharp prick of his teeth was quickly chased away with a few soothing licks and caresses from his deceptively soft lips. “So you’re gonna be my good girl and cum on my cock until I’ve decided you’ve had enough. Understand?”

It gets to the point where you genuinely cannot tell apart the fluids on your skin — sweat, your cum, his cum, or your tears

When he’s finally out of stamina (which is like. days later, RIP you), the last few rounds are much slower, and he’s much softer and clingier. Granted, he’s shooting blanks by then because he’s also overstimulated and exhausted, but he thinks he’s made his point clear enough. He’s actually asking you for just one more, and if you’re crying, he’s quick to kiss the tears away and murmur words of encouragement and love

“Fuck, baby,” Sanemi moaned, his feet digging into the plush of his futon as a means of giving himself leverage to push into you, his thighs and hips having long since lost the ability to work with the same vigor they had when he’d first bent you over. “You feel too fucking good to stop.” You cried out, fists clenching against the painful pleasure your lover continued to bestow upon you. Part of you was desperate for him to stop, to rest, but your body kept betraying you, your legs tightening around his waist to hold him in place. “S-Sanemi,” you whimpered, fingers digging into the ropey muscles of his shoulders, unable to decide whether to pull him closer or push him away. “No m-more — I c-can’t —“ “One more, sweetheart, just one more.” He cooed, bending his face low to brush kiss after kiss against your lips, swallowing your moans and whimpers. Sanemi braced his weight upon his fists, situated on either side of your hips as he continued to rock into you. His pace now was far at odds with the one he’d maintained over the last day or two, with the scar-speckled Wind Pillar forgoing his vicious, unrelenting speed that had you clinging onto the nearest piece of furniture for dear life in favor of something far softer and more gentle. “You can do that for me, right?” Sanemi circled his hips. "Just one more, sweet thing, that's all I ask."

And you give it to him; though there are big, fat tears leaking down your cheeks and though every nerve in your body is screaming for a break, you come apart around him once more. But Sanemi still isn't fully satisfied even though he's a groaning, cursing mess rutting into you, so his thumb works its way between your legs and presses down. Only when a surge of your sticky fluid springs forth and coats his abdomen and groin, does Sanemi finally relax, his own climax rolling into him like a steady wave.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kny smut #demon slayer smut #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi smut

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Text

Slice of Paradise

a/n My brain literally now run only on Joel... So here's a little something something. 🫧

summary: Joel dream of having a farmhouse comes true. What makes it even better is that he's not there alone. He has his own little family to enjoy this little slice of paradise with him.

warnings: just tooth rotting fluff, mention of reader being pregnant, mentions of morning sickness.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If someone were to tell you that somewhere along the line you were going to end up at a place like Jackson in a farmhouse with a loving husband and kids, you would have laughed at them. Or brushed it off to the outback insanity. It seemed impossible. Safety seemed impossible at first. Then followed freedom and, of course, happiness. Those things appeared to be worthy of history textbooks. They could have a title like - at some point in human history, they were happy.

It was hard to move past deaths and past killings. Making sure you kept your humanity alive. Not to become a killing monster. Similar to clickers or any other of those fuckers. When Ellie happened, you had a feeling your life was going to change. You just never imagined it would change so drastically. You and Joel had settled for a dull day-to-day routine. Coming to terms with the fact that your life in QZ was as good as it could get. You never complained. You had one after another. Others didn't even have that kind of luxury.

But here you were now. In a little farmhouse with green shutters that Joel and Ellie had painted over for you because that's what you had always wanted. A garden - full of flowers that you tended to. Of course, to share with the town, but also for your own enjoyment. A couple of dozen of sheep were carelessly plucking grass in the fields around. Something that Joel wanted. Something that had helped him think clearer.

You hummed to yourself. Cutting up the last pieces for supper. The warm spring sun peeped through the windows, only making the smile on your face bigger. It still seemed surreal at times. Like all this was just a dream. One from which you never wanted to awaken. A little flutter in your stomach made you stop. Hand slipping on your five-month pregnant belly. Big enough to let everyone know that you were with a child but not big enough to make it hard for you to move around just yet.

Joel still found the walk to the house odd. It was weird in itself that he had a home to come to. And it wasn't the house itself that surprised him. Oh, no. You, Ellie, and now the baby that was on its was what made it home. A place where he could finally let go. Where the ghost of his past had a harder time finding him. Joel had finally been able to see the bigger picture. He was finally a part of a bigger picture.

With a gun still on his shoulder, Joel opened the wooden gates as he strolled towards the house. The dog on the side of the patio lifted his head, and Joel quickly reached to scratch his ear. "Hi, Brandy, why are you out in front, boy?", Joel questioned as the dog eagerly wagged his tail.

Ellie had come up with the name. She was eager for Joel to name the pup. No one else was allowed to pick a name. "Oh, come on, old thing! Think of something", she said, pushing for a thousand time. She wiggled a toy in her hand as the dog jumped around happily. "I don't know, Ellie. Just name it yourself," he grumbled, even though he knew that she wasn't going to drop the subject until he came up with something. "How about that nasty shit you always drink?", suggested Ellie, looking up. "Brandy?" Joel questioned, and the dog cocked his head at the sound of Joel's voice. Ellie's eyes grew big as she clapped happily. "You like it, boy? Do you like the name? He likes Brandy," she chirped happily. You leaned closer to Joel, laughing as he shook his head, and yet the smile was evident.

The house was quiet as Joel undid his jacket before hanging it up neatly. Knowing that you would be up his sleeve if he left a mess behind himself. He made his way through the house, stopping to listen in the living room. Hoping that he would pick up any sound that would lead him to you. And he did. A light humming came from the kitchen.

And you were indeed there; however, Joel nearly had a heart attack when he saw you standing up on the counter as you tried to reach for something in the upper cabinets. "Have you gone mad, woman", his voice started you, making you nearly drop the jar of spices in your hands. Joel's hands came off either side of your torso as he carefully lifted you off the counter. Your hands pressing into his shoulders.

"What are you doing here?", you questioned, not expecting him to be home just yet. Hence your little adventure. "The better question is, why were you up on the counter at five months pregnant?" You rolled your eyes at him. Appreciating the protectiveness but also slightly hating that now he thought that you were made of glass. "I needed this," you said as you fiddled with the jar in your hands. Moving to take off the lid of the pot before pouring some of it in. Joel's hands didn't leave your sides. "You get the step stool for that, love; we talked about it. You can't do this weird monkey shit; you're not ten." You turned back to your husband. Hands moving to cup his face as you looked at him, "You haven't seen half of my tricks", "I will tie you to the chair if you'll continue to do stuff like that", Joel warned you, and you couldn't help but laugh a little, "Don't forget your gun while you watch over me then".

His eyes altered as he glanced at you, and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Joel leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, "I just don't want you both to get hurt." You moved your palms to run up and down his chest. "I know, honey, I promise no more jumping on counters," you said softly, kissing the tip of his nose. "Unless you're supervising me," you chirp, causing Joel to let out a chuckle.

"How are you feeling today?", Joel's tender palms slipped to run over your bump, and you hummed in delight as the warmth from his skin seeped through your flowy dress. "We're good. I didn't start my morning with a head down the toilet, can you believe it?", you cackled, and Joel gave you a knowing look. Morning sickness had taken its toll on you. To the point where he had rushed you to the doctor in town when you blacked out after vomiting for an hour straight. Joel refused to do any morning petrol after that. He wanted. He needed to be by your side. Even if every time you tried to usher him out of the bathroom, claiming it must be extremely disgusting to him.

"That's good, I was worried the whole morning," he admitted, focusing his attention on the bump. "Joel, we are all okay," your hand slipped on top of his, "She's been happily kicking away all morning," "She? No, it's a boy, aren't you, little guy?" Joel leaned down, pressing a lovely kiss and then the other on the swell of your tummy. Shortly after, a light kick followed up Joel's touch, making the male smile as he repeated the action once again.

"And where's El?", Joel asked, looking around the place. She usually sat by the island doing her homework happily by now, but there was no sight of her there. You hummed, "She said she would come a bit later than usual. She's out with a friend," you wiggled your brows, briefly turning your gaze to the food. "A friend?", "Yeah, Dina I think, and I suspect she likes her", a smile spread on your face as you thought about the little girly chat you two had.

"That's good; she deserves to have a friend. Good for her," Joel's arms were still roaming your skin as you turned back to him, giving him a look, "No, Joel. I mean, like, like her," Joel's face blanked as the realization dawned on him, and you hummed. "She brought in pancakes with fruit and cream to school to share with her", you giggled. Joel stayed silent as he stared ahead of himself. It felt silly, but Joel was almost jealous that Ellie suddenly had someone else in her life. Like he didn't want to share her with anyone else. You three had fallen into such conformable dynamics. It felt easy, and it felt right. To Joel, Ellie was still too young to date or have a crush. "Wipe the frown off your face; it's not like she's getting married already," you said as you nudged your husband's shoulder as he folded his hands over his chest.

"Mom," Ellie's voice echoed down the corridor. Your heart fluttered. It still did. Even after more than a year of her referring to you like that. She had sat you and Joel down after a month or two of you moving into the farmhouse. She was a stuttering mess as she tried to explain, or more specifically, ask if she would be allowed to call you her parents.

"Because we like live together, and then you let me stay, and I have my room. But the room, of course, means nothing, but you like wanted me to stay so…", you reached for her hand and then gave it a little squeeze as you cut her ramble off. "I'd be honored to be your mom," you said softly, and Ellie bit down on her lower lip in hopes of stopping it from quivering. Her eyes landed on Joel, who had his arms crossed over his chest. His usual stance - an unapproachable demeanor that he hadn't dropped even now. "Go ahead, just no daddy shit, or you're sleeping in the stables," Joel said. Ellie instantly rounded the corner of the table and launched herself into Joel's arms. Hugged his torso as she smiled. "Okay, daddy," she whispered, making Joel tickle her.

You smiled to yourself as the memory melted into your mind. "In the kitchen, baby," you shouted back. Joel's hand moved back to your hip as he and you waited for Ellie to appear. The footsteps sounded weird. Not as familiar. As if there were more than one set of them. And well, your hearing hadn't failed you, as another girl appeared on Ellie's left side. "Oh, dad, I thought you wouldn't be home." Ellie's face paled slightly, as she noticed Joel, but the lazy smile on his face made her ease up almost instantly. "I missed my girls; I thought I'd surprise you," he said in return. In a way, he was hoping that Ellie would run up to hug him like she always did when Joel returned from work, but he also understood that now that she had a friend here, she probably wouldn't do so.

"Ah… well, this is Dina, a friend from school," Ellie said shyly, and the girl by her side waved nervously at you two, "Can she stay for dinner?" Joel studied the girl. The girl who possibly Ellie liked. He tried to pinpoint the features she might have taken to her liking. "Of course, that would be lovely. Go wash your hands, you two, and I'll come to get you when it's ready." Stepping closer, you caressed Ellie's cheeks tenderly. She flashed you a bright smile as she took Dina by the hand, and the two ran up the stairs laughing.

You turned back to your husband, fanning your hands in front of your eyes as the tears parked up, clouding your vision. "Sugar, what's all of this for?", Joel stepped closer to you, embracing you once again. "Don't pay attention, hormones," you muttered, wiping away the tears. Joel chuckled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "Didn't you just tell me that she ain't getting married just yet?", he teased, making you bite down your lip. As another wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, "Imagine her in a dress, no, a suit—she would do a suit, ahh," you whimpered, covering your face with your hands.

Joel shook his head, pulling you even closer to him, his hands running up and down your back, soothing you. Secretly enjoying this more sensitive side of you. That one that cried at Brandy bathing in the sun or Ellie's school project. Even Joel's neatly folded clothes had you shedding tears. Joel breathed in the scent of you. One hand slipped back down onto your bump. "Take nice, big breaths, honey. Want a glass of water?", he asked, shifting, reaching for a cup as he guided you to sit down on the chair. Quickly stirring the pot before turning back to you.

"Do you think this little bug will grow up just as fast?", your hand slipped over your bump subconsciously once more. Joel hummed, "Don't they all? We'll blink, and this one will be climbing up the countertops," you sniffed again, unable to suppress a grin. "Go to your sheep before you turn me into a puddle", you waved Joel away playfully. It had been his habit for some time. He had a little talk with his soft friend before he sat down for dinner. A way for him to digest the day.

"Do I at least get a kiss?", Joel cocked his head to the side, watching you. "Do you think you deserve one?", "For putting a baby inside you, yes." You let out a gasp, hitting his chest. "Joel, dear God, they might hear you", he lets out a deep belly laugh, stepping closer to you, "Shut me up with a kiss", you roll your eyes. Cupping his cheeks before you leaned in, as you pressed your lips to Joel's in a tender kiss. Yeah, this was home, and even if Joel often thought he didn't deserve it, he wouldn't trade it for anything else.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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arthenaa · 4 months

Note

Could i ask for HCs of Mizu with a mommy kink? Like her liking to be called that? Thank you!

Mizu with a Mommy Kink (18+ mdni after the line) gender neutral! reader

ALRIGHT

Honestly, the kink stemmed from the fact that she's a natural protector

She may have a contradicting personality with regards to socialization but overall, it's probably because it's influenced by the values and mindset that she learned from when she was young

Violence had never been the right answer and while the world continues to change influenced by the bloodbath in its history, why can't she make use of it as a way to save others?

yeahh getting philosophical in a fucking nsfw post YEAHHH

anyways, you and Mizu had been acquainted for a while now and she respects you enough to be somewhat vulnerable with you

It's the same with you as well, you regard Mizu as a close confidant of your life stories

It's safe to say that you know each other well enough despite how it looks

There have also been quite close calls that made your relationship with Mizu border something more than acquaintances slash friends with a question mark in bold (its for the emphasis)

So imagine to your surprise how worked up she gets over a joke you made after commenting on her natural need to protect

"Y'know," You lick your lips, eyes squinting as you assessed the woman before you quietly drinking her tea. "You have a natural sense of protecting. Kinda like a mommy."

The blue-eyed samurai freezes in her place

It was a look of horror at first and you were quite tipsy during that time (you two were lounging at your home)

So your thought process was, heyyy why not make fun of this mf while I have no shame

so you did

The look of horror, turned into being uncomfortable until her cheeks flushed to a deep shade of red

You've never seen someone change emotions in just a few seconds

You were enjoying this clearly

Mizu was having none of it and while the term did fluster and invoke horrors worthy enough of the judgment of Izanami no Mikoto

Fueled by her emotions, her secret-not-so-secret attraction towards you, and her need to shut you up, Mizu moved towards you

And now you're where you are now

NSFW

Soft dom with a hint of sadistic tendencies

She likes making you beg and plead for her to do something, then turn a 180 and praise you for your work

loves loves loves overstimulating you

I think its because she hasn't gotten any action over the past few years that all she's doing is take take take from you

You're writhing and shaking in the sheets with just her mouth and she hasn't even gone to her fingers yet

She loves looking down at you, reveling in the superiority that your submission to her brings

It makes her menacing tbh but its hot okay

This mf eats you up like a champ

Fast learner

Has a good stamina but her refractory period can take some time

so yeah it ultimately ends up with you overstimulating a dozen times before she finally gets to have her own release (also probs bc she prioritizes your pleasure over her own)

she loves it

She gives you reigns at first, just to let her know what to do and a few seconds later, your eyes are rolling in the back of your head

Quite manipulative in bed

Says a lot of things like, "you're mine right?", "say you want me", "tell mommy that she's all you need"

you indulge her manipulative tendencies tho

all of this is making you develop a praise kink omf

Sometimes gets overwhelmed by the pleasure and pushes you too far but thats okay cuz its mizu

Stops completely and stares you down when you stop saying mommy

That completely just puts you in your spot

Then her voice drops to a chill and calm tone and suddenly you're shivering and flushing at her stare

Know how people's eyes get duller when they're in the state of lust or smn

Hers get brighter for some reason

She likes positions that allow her to wrap her arms around you or where her body is either on top or covering you

yeahhh stems from the need to protect

After you and Mizu establish this kind of relationship, she begins to act more mischievous around you

MIZU IS MISCHIEVOUS damn, that mf will tease you like its nothing

she will eye you up with no shame, whisper in your ear like its not bothering you, and then act like she hasn't done anything at all

Esp when she gets joke gifts from the brothel like sex toys and what not

She will use them on you and you will limp for a week

More of a service-top rather than receiving

She likes the reactions she's pulling out of you and when you return the favor, she pampers you with so much love and affection and you just flush in shyness

yeaaaaa, its okay to be a red flag in bed as long as it's mizu

#arthenaa #the blue eyed samurai #mizu x you #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu smut #mizu x reader #mizu bes

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chuunai · 3 months

Note

Henlo I have something to add to the 100 followers event if that’s cool

Dazai with scenario 2 and prompt 16. Idk how these things traditionally go but…. Your stuff seems good so far and I’m excited to see what you do with this

Thank you thank you, Anon. Also sorry for how long this took everyone I swear I’m combing through the requests 3_3

✧˚ · . dad first, detective second - dazai osamu

who would’ve imagined the demon prodigy having a hellion of his own?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → baby baby baby, Dazai really likes your boobs, etc.

It’s a perfect night, really.

Your warm body resting against his, limbs lazily tossed over each other as you snuggled and acted like lovesick fools. Moonlight poured in from the cracks of the curtains, casting small slivers on your face. Dazai couldn’t help but think of an angel when it came to you. A heavenly being that granted him a new life and forgave him for his past.

Nudging at your cheek with his nose, his voice came out in a sleepy tone.

“You should sleep, [name].”

His hand reached up to cup your face, playfully using his thumbs to gently close your eyelids like one would do with a body. He’d seen many people in the Mafia do that—try and make the deaths they caused seem more peaceful rather than a brutal end. Dazai himself never did that. No need in beautifying a simple concept of its finality and simplicity.

“Can’t. I know she’s about to wake up. It’s nearly eleven, and we put her to sleep at seven. I can tell.”

You shook your head stubbornly, looking at the baby monitor nearby where static noise and the occasional mix of a tiny snore and coo came from.

His little hellion.

Really, he had no clue how he got so lucky. First with the fact that he impregnated you and you carried his baby. Second with the fact that he had his own family now. And third with the fact she looked so much like him. Thick brown curls of hair on her head, big curious eyes that looked at him so adoringly. The tiny freckles and birthmarks scattered across her skin. She had some of your features, yes, but they were more subtle than his features.

Coupled with the fact that she was a bundle of energy and sass like him.

“I insist, pretty. Shinju needs her daddy too.”

He knew how much she made you tired with her habit for refusing to nap for more than an hour or two coupled with breastfeeding and the general responsibility and time that being a mom took. Dazai wanted to spend time with his daughter too and relieve your stress. You’d get sleep, he’d get to see Shinju. Win-win, in all accounts.

Hell, he even gave you puppy eyes in the darkness of your room.

“I…fine. But don’t wake me up if you screw up.”

Dramatically, he sighed and frowned, placing a hand on his heart.

“Does my ‘bella really think I’m an incompetent father? How heartbreaking and cruel of her!”

Much to his relief, you playfully groaned, pinching his sides lightly.

“I didn’t say that, dummy. God, I swear Shinju is more mature than you.”

Jesus, you were so insulting tonight. How was the baby that tried to put anything she could in her mouth more mature than him? Sure, he was a bit funny and childish, but he wasn’t a baby. Well, if he had his face buried in your boobs he’d be a baby. Still, it’s not his fault that they’re just so big and warm and squishy and seem to beg for his attention.

Which is what he soon did, resting his head on your chest while cupping them softly. You were wearing one of his shirts and a nursing bra underneath. He wished you weren’t wearing anything at all, but it wasn’t fair to ask for that when you recently gave birth just a mere two months ago. His libido lowered itself only for you. And when you did have sex—quickies when Shinju would nap—, he was so much nicer and loving than usual. The mother of his child didn’t deserve rough mean sex, no, she deserved gentle treatment under the sheets of their futon.

You deserved everything that he could possibly give you.

So when the small baby demon eventually began to wake up and whimper, he pressed a kiss onto your cheek and slowly got up, whistling a small tune under his breath before waking to the makeshift nursery nearby.

Opening the door slowly, he made his way to the crib and picked up his sniffling newborn, shushing her comfortingly.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. We don’t want to wake up mama, okay?”

Her tiny hands balled up into fists, weakly moving around and occasionally hitting his chest. Sitting down on the rocking chair nearby, he fumbled around for one of her stuffed animals, grabbing the familiar bunny as he placed it in her arms.

“Look there, Shinju. It’s your bunny!”

From an authoritative Mafia executive to a tired loving father. Lord, Chuuya would be laughing his ass off. Or have that stupid face of confusion while he’d berate Dazai with questions about what unlucky woman had to bear his spawn. But what could that short alcoholic of a ginger say? No woman wanted to birth his babies.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Shinju’s tiny fingers began to grab at his chest, thinking he could feed her too. He could, just not straight from the source unlike you. Standing up, he went over to the mini-fridge nearby which contained bottles of your milk. It wasn’t too chilly, and so he carried it and the cooing baby to the kitchen where he warmed it up in the microwave.

After it warmed up, he carefully began to feed her, leaning back against the counter as he did so.

It still felt so odd to him. Caring and loving someone he helped to create. His self from ten years ago would never believe it—that they’d find love and even have a baby after escaping the Mafia. He had you to thank for that. The one who picked up the discarded pieces of his soul and welded it into the man he is today—a father first, and a detective second.

Kinda rushed the end but I couldn’t think of anything more :(

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

#bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #aspiring writer #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuunai #fanfic #dazai x reader #dazaibsd #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #bsd fluff #fluff #bsd tag #bsd

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vanteguccir · 2 months

Text

It's noted | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N is part of the Sturniolo Triplets fandom and makes videos about them on TikTok. After years of creating content, one of her videos seems to catch the attention of none other than Chris.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, from anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: I used this tiktoker as an inspiration for the content that the reader creates on this.

PS. 2: I'm thinking of making a tag list for my Sturniolo Triplets x reader, so if you want to be included in it and be tagged on every Sturniolo x reader that I post, comment here please! 🩷

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It was true that the Sturniolo Triplets fandom grew so much in such a short time thanks to the fans themselves, who play a big role in bringing the channel to other people through social media - mainly TikTok. It was also true that, at least 90% of this part of the fandom works with edits of different types of the boys; compilation of parts from a certain video or podcast, edits and even memes.

But there was a small portion that made videos talking about the boys, showing their faces and voices while explaining their content, work and even giving tips on how the triplets themselves could increase their audience or improve their brands.

And Y/N was part of this small portion, having been in the fandom since mid-2021 and not missing any videos of the triplets, she could talk about them for hours on end.

Her biggest hobby was making videos giving ideas for their channel and brands: some brands they could collab with, theme ideas for car videos, topics for podcasts, prints for hoodie sets and t-shirts - both for the triplets' brand and for Fresh Love -, different flavors and themes for Space Camp, and so on.

The girl applied all her love and knowledge to all her videos, editing the backgrounds and explaining her ideas with the smallest details, making them understandable. She had perfect lighting, audio, and set equipment for her work, which made the quality equally good as her content.

Her trademark was her strawberry frappuccino, which she was always drinking every time she turned on her phone camera. Fans joked that her obsession with the drink was like Chris's obsession with Pepsi.

And all that was exactly why fans loved her so much. Y/N had more than 400 thousand followers on her TikTok account and all her videos reached an average of 150 thousand likes, in addition to the many comments saying how smart she was for having those ideas, her kindness in sharing them with the public and even complementing her beauty.

The girl spent hours of her day reading each one of them and interacting with fans as if they were best friends, always being very kind. She laughed her ass off at the comments from people who madly tagged the boys, especially Chris, as it was a well-known fact that he was her favorite - she loved to make that very clear.

Some fans even went so far as to say that if Chris was ever ready to get romantically involved with someone again, they wanted it to be with Y/N. The girl read that type of comment with a huge smile on her face and red cheeks, feeling honored. Although she imagined that the boys would never even notice her, she allowed herself to travel through the world of delusion from time to time.

So it was an understandment to say that she was super surprised when, after waking up on a typical Saturday and picking up her phone for the first time in the day before even getting out of bed - a bad habit of hers -, she saw the notifications in triple the volume of its normal.

She felt dizzy with so much information, trying to find in the midst of so many comments and messages what was really happening.

Finally, after traveling between her TikTok, Instagram, and Twitter for long minutes, she finally found it.

Chris Sturniolo had commented on her last video.

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It was Friday, and the triplets had just returned home after finishing recording their new car video that would be posted in a few hours.

Chris was currently lying in his bed, the lights in his room dimmed, and the low noise coming from his phone filling the four walls.

The brunette was just getting ready to take a shower minutes ago, having opened his TikTok and scrolling through his For You for a few minutes, about to take off his clothes used in the filming, when a video of an unknown girl talking about himself caught his attention.

It was very normal to have videos of and about himself on his For You, after all, the hours over the last few years that he spent liking one video or another showed the algorithm that he liked this type of content. Edits and memes of him alone or with his brothers filled his app, and he spent enough time watching, laughing, liking, and, sometimes, reposting some of them.

But it wasn't normal for him to have a completely unknown person talking directly about him, with her face and voice exposed for the world while doing it. And what surprised him most was what she was talking about, that specific video being about different prints and colors that he could use in the next Fresh Love collection.

His blue eyes lingered too long on the girl's face, admiring her features, her sweet voice serving as a melody for his ears.

When Chris dragged his thumb from the right to the left of his screen, entering the girl's profile, he finally noticed her name.

"Y/N." His voice came out in a whisper, enjoying more than necessary how the name slipped off his tongue so easily.

His fingers wandered across the screen, going from one video to another, listening to the ideas carefully - even writing some down on his Notes app -, saving some in a separate folder and browsing the comments, only then realizing that practically all of them were from fans tagging him.

Laughter escaped his lips at some of the jokes the girl made every now and then, while fascination filled his eyes with the effort she put into each idea.

The sound of knocking against his bedroom door startled him, his body jumping as he turned sharply towards the source of it, Matt's head appearing between his door and the frame, his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes traveled around the room briefly.

"You've been listening to this girl for so many hours that I thought she was here with you." Matt commented, opening the door wider and approaching Chris.

The youngest of the triplets rolled his eyes, suppressing the urge to lock his phone screen and keep Y/N all to himself, but she was well known in the fandom and her videos were about him and his brothers, the possibility of her content getting to them as quickly as it got to him was huge.

"It's a girl who appeared on my For You today. She makes videos of ideas for our channel and brands, can you believe it?" Chris looked at Matt as he showed his phone screen with Y/N's profile open. His eyes were wide with fascination, and his lips stretched into an enthusiastic smile.

Matt observed him for a few seconds, noticing his body language and the way he spoke about the girl, it was different from all the other times the boy commented about tiktokers or videos others made about them.

"Send me a video of her, I'll take a look later. Now go upstairs, I bought us something to eat."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Another Monday had arrived, and Y/N was looking for strength in her body to get out of bed and face another start of the week.

The thought that in a few hours, she would have a brand new Sturniolo Triplets podcast was what made her tackle her tasks.

Her eyes traveled to the time on her phone and to her notification bar every 10 minutes, as if she was expecting Nick to release the podcast earlier than usual - it was obvious that that wasn't going to happen.

After last Saturday, where she had woken up to a comment from none other than Christopher Sturniolo, her weekend was complete madness.

She spent hours staring at the little comment as her mind tried to process whether she was actually awake or still asleep and in a very good dream.

"loved the idea! it's noted ;)"

"it's noted"? What did that even mean? Did he actually write down her idea for future use? Should she be prepared to wake up some other day and see that he has launched a new collection with something she suggested in one of her videos?

And what made her go crazy the most was that Chris Sturniolo had seen her face, and not only that, he found her attractive enough and her idea creative enough to watch it until the end.

She spent almost the entire previous two days waiting for him to comment again, or even like one of her videos, but that didn't happen. Instead, Y/N received thousands of comments from fans going crazy with her about what happened. At least she had a good laugh with them.

Now, she was in her bedroom, the light from the movie playing on the TV was the only source of illumination. Y/N was lying in her bed, already in her pajamas and with her pre-bed cup of cappuccino on her lap, keeping her legs warm, her eyes on the television, but her mind somewhere else.

The sound of the YouTube notification came from her phone and Y/N had never moved so quickly, her hand taking the device out of her bedside table and unlocking the screen while muting the television, clicking on it with her thumb without even looking at the other notifications.

Her fingers worked on increasing the volume and screen brightness, setting it to the best resolution and getting comfortable on her bed, preparing to stay in that position for the next hour.

The podcast was already at minute 35, and Y/N felt her cheeks hurting from how much she was laughing at the topics brought up by the boys. Nick was especially funny that day, making Chris and Matt laugh at every moment.

In addition to the senseless fights that would arise between the three of them out of nowhere, which made Y/N roll her eyes playfully, already accustomed to their way with each other.

Until her big smile was replaced by an expression of a mixture of fright and surprise.

"Can we take a moment to talk about the intense crush Chris developed this weekend?" Nick interrupted Matt's laughter, taking a sip of his Doctor Pepper.

Chris turned abruptly to his brother, his eyes wide at the comment as he shook his head, almost begging through telepathy for him not to talk about that.

"It's true, Chris spent the weekend obsessing over a fan of ours who makes videos on TikTok with different ideas for our channel." Matt agreed, looking briefly at Nick while his hands moved the microphone support, pressing his lips together as he tried to suppress his laughter at Chris's reaction.

"Yeah, she is super pretty, and her ideas are very interesting. I think I only saw her profile once, but I listened to all her videos through Chris's phone." Nick continued, raising his right hand and directing his palm towards Chris, pretending to cover his figure with it and ignoring his desperate expression. "He literally spent the entire weekend watching her."

"Her name is Y/N. Search for her guys. We might even use one of her ideas on our next podcast." Matt added, his voice coming out low despite his mouth being almost glued to the microphone.

"You guys are horrible, I hate you." Despite the distance, the camera lens that focused on Chris's image captured his red cheeks as he tried to suppress a smile at the thought of the girl who took over his thoughts, rolling his eyes to his brothers.

"Now he will be silent for the next 10 minutes." Nick continued, amusement in his voice as he picked up his Space Camp watermelon lip balm, playing with the object in his hands.

"He's in love Nick, give him some credit." Matt mocked alongside the oldest triplet, a small smile on his face as his eyes watched his brother's reaction.

"Okay, next topic." Chris interrupted loudly, his voice cracking with embarrassment. He raised his arms and moved them from side to side exasperatedly, earning laughter from the other two, before Nick briefly passed his eyes on the document open on his laptop, starting the next topic.

"Oh my God." Y/N whispered, clicking once on the screen and dragging the small ball in the bottom bar to the left, going back a few minutes of the podcast and rewatching that specific part.

The girl repeated that action at least three more times, her brain still processing that Chris Sturniolo had been watching her TikToks all weekend - as if she were some kind of famous artist - and that, apparently, he was developing a mini crush on her as well.

Her heart was beating too fast to be normal as her cheeks burned, a red tinge taking over her skin. Goosebumps ran through her body as her fingers trembled slightly. Her jaw was already hurting from the time she held her mouth open, but no sound escaped from it.

A notification suddenly appearing at the top of the screen caught her eye, her right hand instantly flying to her mouth while her left hand lowered her phone, resting the device on her mattress.

Her eyes were now fixed on the wall in front of her bed, as her mind screamed at herself.

christopherturniolo sent you a direct message.

"hey!"

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

Also, again, I'm thinking of making a tag list for my Sturniolo Triplets x reader, so if you want to be included in it and be tagged on every Sturniolo x reader that I post, comment here please! 🩷

Asked tags: @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @p1xieswrld @lovrejoana

257 notes · View notes

yzzart · 1 year

Note

imagine daemon and rhaenyra’s pretty daughter, who has such a close bond with her brothers, jace and luke (like in your ‘now im here, with you’ fic). never far from them, hugging them, holding their hands. and in return, they’re incredibly overprotective of her.

and then there’s aemond, driven wild with jealously 🤭

— Flavor of a jealous dragon.

characters: Aemond Targaryen x (F)Targaryen!reader.

summary: witnessing one of your brother's trainings, you can witness the jealousy of a dragon.

warnings: incest, explicit language, explicit words.

word count: 2.978!

english's not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!

"It's so strange to see him fighting the wind."

The youngest prince whispered, in a peaceful, mocking way, for you. Your lips couldn't resist trying to prevent a knowing smile, finding your younger brother's speech funny, from appearing quickly.

Really, it was strange to see a person with a sword Indeed, it was strange to see a person with a sword slashing only the wind and pretending that there was a person there, but you wanted to support your little brother.

"He's doing fine." — You uttered the words as you returned to stare at a little Jacerys training session. He was practicing alone, at that time. Some guards suggested training him, but your brother decided for himself that he preferred solo training. — And it was impossible to disagree that he was doing very well.

And Jace, insistently, decided to train in the sacred grove. It didn't matter to him if the place he chose might be a little too small to fight with his sword, he decided and is getting what he wanted. — With each sudden, swift step, the admirable leaves of pure red hue, which lay on the ground, moved in accordance with Prince Velaryon's feet.

You felt pride in being able to witness your brother demonstrate his skills and new ways of fighting. — In fact, it was much more interesting than being locked inside your chambers or going through several meetings about the future of the throne. — And seeing Jace increasingly become a worthy fighter was important to you.

"I think you should train too." — Taking your eyes and attention away from Jacerys, you begin to glare at Lucerys; that when he feels you staring at him, he lowers his head. — "Luke…" — The velaryon mumbled something it wasn't possible to understand.

"I don't think i should and i can't see myself fighting with dignity." — He muttered with his tone of voice of sadness mixed with indifference. That mix had a name and it was insecurity, and you knew what it was about like no one else.

The feeling of insecurity dominated Luke's mind, it was like a plague; words he once said to her. The feeling of insecurity dominated Luke's mind, it was like a plague; words he once said to you. — One thing that sometimes dominated him more than usual and sometimes fear joined in and brought a heavy and confused mix of feelings.

Having the rank of old sister, you know your brothers and sisters like the back of your hand. — Like a dragon with its rider. — And witnessing all the events with all of them, you get a sense of how much and how all the feelings came to them and with Luke it couldn't be the other way around.

And you knew Luke hated picking up a sword, even if it was in self-defense and that had happened once before. — And ended up with a person missing an eye. — And that person was Aemond, your uncle and your lover.

You tasted and found out what the word love meant with Aemond. It wasn't just a common feeling, that he was not worth your time or lost your focus on strengthening your family. It was more than that.

Living between complete love and hate is not an easy thing to live with and witness, it felt like a punishment from the good gods. A punishment that will always haunt you.

Lucerys did not harbor a sense of anger or indignation over your relationship with the man he'd blinded in one eye, on the contrary, he respected you. — He looked up to you, always will, and also always respects your decisions and feelings.

"You deserved to be happy." little Lucerys had spoken those words to you.

However, that did not mean that the relationship between Aemond and Lucerys could improve. — Only the good gods, who all begged for the blessing and good life, knew what would happen between those two worthy princes who shared the same house.

"I think otherwise." — A quick and pure response was directed at the prince. — "Dignity has always been with you and in you, Lucerys." — You directed your hand to the side of the youngest's head, intending to make a small and simple caress. — "Since the day you were born."

The last words almost came out as a whisper. Your voice had shown a certain weakness because of the feeling of emotion that was growing in you. Seeing your little brother like that broke your heart, and it seemed that there was no miracle cure or medicine that could heal that pain.

Your fingers passed through the youngest's brown locks, showing more than simple and meaningful affection. — Lucerys needed this. He needed support, and he didn't want to hoard those fears just for himself.

"My dear little brother." — You plead, beg the youngest Velaryon to look into your eyes. Deep down, you knew Luke was fighting himself not to meet your eyes, afraid of a reprimand or complaint.

In long seconds, Lucerys decides to turn his head in your direction and soon, his blue eyes, with the pigmentation of the ocean, e of the youngest meets your eyes the color of pure purple. — His eyes looked so empty yet searching for a lifeline at the same time.

"You are my point of pride." — You said. — "With sword or not, you are still worthy of everything about you and around you."

A small smile, shy but a little contagious, formed A small smile, shy but a little infectious, formed on Lucerys's short lips. — It was already a good start. — You didn't stop smiling at the boy.

The uncomfortable, sad and tired image of Lucerys from before was gone in a matter of seconds, and you never felt so good about your brother in your entire life. — The good gods were recognizing that.

"Kirimvose, issa mandia" (Thank you, my sister.) — The thick accent during the Valyrian lines was uttered from Lucerys's mouth. The fact that Lucerys was more confident with his High Valyrian than Jacerys was was funny to you. — But, you always kept it to yourself.

Lucerys didn't intervene or stop the small, light movements, the petting you were giving him, in his head. He was enjoying that attention and time with you. — You noticed it, of course, but you didn't think to remove your hand from there.

In a matter of seconds, you started to feel like you were being watched. — Well, you were watched everywhere, by the guards who looked after you and your life, and by the civilians. — But at that moment it was a strange thing. A strange feeling. — Maybe it was in your head, or it must be the stress you've been going through lately, so you decided to ignore it for a while.

"Is spending time with my older sister or does that only go for the younger brother?" — Jacerys's voice exclaimed in your ears, snapping you out of your worried thoughts.

How long had Jace stopped his training?

"Oh, shut up." — Luke grumbled, not caring about his brother's joke. Jacerys just laughed and didn't want to upset his brother any further, and quickly noticed his scowl and put it in his mind that he should ask what was going on with him later. — "Can we go? I feel like i'm going to get dizzy if i see you spinning alone with your sword one more time."

Lucerys couldn't hide the feeling of boredom and weariness that had been building in his body since the minute he arrived. The youngest, at that moment, preferred to spend time locked in his rooms.

"I was so bad..." — The words that were ready to come out of Jacerys' mouth end up being interrupted. It was a somewhat disturbing surprise for you, to the point that it drew your eyes towards the young man.

It looked like he had seen something that bothered him in a bitter way. The expression that fit Jacerys's face was one of disgust, mixed with anger and you were ready to question what had happened or what had passed through his eyes.

"Mandia." (Sister.) — The thick accent with a weak but understandable pronunciation slips, purposefully, from Jacerys's mouth. He didn't change his expression even when calling you and also, he didn't look away to the specific point that angered him. — And your thought, or perhaps a sign from the gods, left a small certainty about who would be there.

Without questioning, or letting a miserable word escape your mouth, you decided to turn around and find out at once who had angered your brother. — And maybe, who was watching you the whole time.

With his costume made of pure leather and severely sewn and well worked, with its pigmentation of pure black; the young man who was feared by all in the region and recognized by the kingdoms, was present there. — Probably, witnessing his nephew's training but that wasn't why he was there.

Aemond watched, from afar, what looked like a small meeting between brothers, even though you were totally different. And he didn't even make a miserable fuss or try to hide the look he held. — It wasn't easy to figure out the kind of look the one-eyed young man was delivering but you can be sure that when his one eye passed by you, he was left with pure admiration and enchantment.

You were staring back at him but fighting, in a strong and resistant way, a smile that even you couldn't explain. — And it would be so embarrassing to make the mistake of being happy with his presence in front of your brothers, you thought.

Aemond's posture was rigid, more serious than usual, it was as if something had bothered him too and it wasn't the nephew's attempt to subpoena with just the look. — That would never happen. — And he didn't want to appreciate what made him that way, and without delay, he decided to walk to leave the place.

And you knew how to recognize the fury of that dragon and you felt that you had to go to him.

"You'd better stay here." — You uttered an order, but not in a stern tone of voice or so strong as to startle them the wrong way. Jacerys wasn't going to question, or even say anything about, your decision and you understood that. — Lucerys was no different from his brother and remained silent, and only a brief sigh escaped his mouth.

Your eyes swept over the Velaryon brothers, a silent farewell to them for that moment. The anger and disgust had drained from Jacerys's face, returning to his neutral expression but with sensitivity because of you. — Moving your lips, you say "Avy jorrāelan." (I love you.) directly to each one.

"We'll be here for anything, remember that." — Jace warned you with determination

Leaving that part of the woods, your steps, with the joint of your long dress, end up taking some red leaves but not preventing or disturbing you to your greatest focus. — But you fear that the end of your dress might be a little filthy and you try not to think about that possibility too much.

In keeping with your quickening steps, the fewer servants and guards you observed and encountered during your little journey to find your lover. An urge to ask one of them where the one-eyed prince could have gone crossed your mind but you decided not to. — And when you least expected it, your vision has the privilege of finding the image of the oldest's back.

According to the wind speed, which was a little strong, Aemond's pure white hair moved.

There were no guards around that part, and you didn't find that strange; Aemond could have asked for time alone and that was understandable. — And it was a good time for the two of you to have some alone time too.

Your steps weren't as precise as before and you weren't as nervous, not in a bad way but completely different. But your heart was pounding and it was amazing how Aemond's presence, and just one look, could move you and your body. — A lump felt like it wanted to form in your throat but you knew you had to fight it.

"Aemond?" — You beat yourself up, mentally, for the small moment where her voice called out to you with a weak edge. A bad time for this to happen; but for your old lover, your voice came out perfectly sweet and woke him up instantly.

Your voice woke Aemond from all bad thoughts or those that led him to a dark feeling, a feeling where he wasn't recognizing himself in some stupid moments. You brought him back to his consciousness with just your voice. — No one from all the kingdoms conquered by your ancestors, not even the one-eyed prince's own family could know that he felt that way in love with you, his niece.

An uncle and niece in love. House Targaryen, the house of dragons, had seen this for so long and you had compassion to see your parents having the same story and look what happened. — Like parents, like daughter.

"I came to think you were going to be with those boys." — Without completely turning his head in your direction, leaving only a part of his face in your field of vision, Aemond utters those long words trying not to show what, in fact, he was feeling. You, in the same miserable second, understood what was corrupting the oldest

Aemond was jealous and under the circumstances, you were surprised and a little disturbed by what was going on around you. You knew that just questioning or pressing what he was feeling would not work and could make the small situation worse for the two of you. — And Aemond needed your attention and care.

"ñuha jorrāelagon." (My dear.) — Going towards him, you place your hands on the side of his face. You felt Aemond's body shudder with your touch and it couldn't be your hand, which was at a slightly warm temperature, but it was the feeling of being touched by you.

The prince's one good eye not only stared at her but admired you. The way an amethyst-colored eye took in every point and line of your face and claimed you were a painting made, delicately, by the good gods. — The Targaryens were closer to gods than men and Aemond was sure in that moment that he was being touched by an angel, that even he considered you a goddess.

"I hate the idea of having you away from me." — Aemond quickly looked away from her but for a short, brief moment. — "And having to watch those damn kids with you is the worst thing i could ever face in my own house."

When he mentioned his nephews, Aemond didn't think twice about venting all his anger and contempt. He had reasons to feel that way, to corrupt himself like that, and you hated to see him that way. — And it hurt just as much to see your brothers like that too.

And it was right there that Aemond gave up hiding the jealousy that was completely dominating his body.

"I'm here with you, aren't i?" — Your hand, which was being held beside Aemond's face, made a lingering caress to get his attention and regain his focus. Immediately, the elder's single eye meets your eyes again. — "I won't hold back your feelings, Aemond, but i hate to see you like this."

The sincerity in your words calmed him down a bit, letting his posture soften for a little while.

"And they're my brothers, and my duty as an older sister is to care for and protect them." — It was necessary to mention this. It was necessary to disassemble Aemond that he didn't need to feel jealous over that circumstance. — "But you're the man i love, and the man i gave myself completely to."

The last words that came out of your mouth, filled the void that was starting in Aemond's head. An emptiness he was beginning to understand there was no need for. — He might not understand or at least care about the mention of his nephews but that statement of you, was all he needed most.

"I love you and i will always love you." — You ended with your sweet statement. The words of pure honesty were carefully directed towards her lover, always being interrupted.

In the blink of an eye, in such a quick moment of time, Aemond wasted no time in bringing your lips to his. The kiss was formed in a surprising way for you, not only by the quick movement he implanted but you felt the mixture of feelings that Aemond was going through during the act. — Passion, admiration, a little anger, were in the middle of that kiss. It was easy to feel.

One of Aemond's hands roamed around your waist and lingered there, only a brief grip was left by him. It was a delicate, honest moment with pure passion, so it wasn't necessary to turn it into something more illicit at that time. — The hand that was left was glued to the side of your face, as you were doing to him.

Aemond didn't want to take his hands off you, he didn't want to lose you between his fingers. The sensation of touching you, your face, or even your waist covered by the long garment, was fascinating for the feared prince. — If you count, the feel of your sweet, so soft lips against his.

Aemond is the man you loved, and no one could tell you otherwise or try to stop your burning passion for him. The man who made you discover what the word "love" meant. — And he was the dragon who would die and kill and face anything and everything for you.

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