#ON REPLAY ON REPLAY-AY-AY

[whatsnewalycat]

[moontaeddybear]

[Replay] ‘Ay-Yo’ Commentary Live

[andrewknightley]

brosca: hey oghren are you ok what just happened with your wife was fucked up oghren: if anyone else asks me if im ok again ill beat them up

(oghren approves +2)

[yeonjune]

yeonbin's "lovesong" bridge live

[houndfaker]

waiitng for my steam deck to get here. smilesss.

[prettybbychim]

i don’t have space in my brain for more toxic gays pls i can’t do it rn

[ceruleanpunch]

replay is an amazing song and you can listen to it on loop but watch out

[clandestineloki]

strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy! 

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way. 

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?" 

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?" 

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~" 

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

funny wife, happy life

carlos sainz x wife!reader

summary - the grids beloved couple have begun a prank war, subjecting the drivers and fans to their hilarious antics

masterlist

request by anonnie :) thank you love! - hey you could write about carlos that he and Y/N his wife that they are the funniest couple in the paddock that Y/N has the same personality as carlos that they often play pranks on each other on tiktok

-

your knees were cramping, on the verge of giving out, as you held your hidden position in your husband’s drivers room. charles had told you he’d be back in a few minutes. a few minutes. ha! you’ve been sitting here for ages and you’re about to collapse. until finally you hear the sweet, sweet sounds of your husband's laugh approaching you quickly. you give a quick scramble to collect yourself and pull up your tik tok account in order to record the heart attack soon to be inflicted upon carlos. the door handle jiggles and opens, alerting you of his presence. his footsteps become closer to your hidden position behind a few large items and abruptly stop. you take it as your queue to jump but before you can-

“BOO!” your husband screeches at you with his phone in your face as you let out a mirroring yell and fall backwards on your ass. 

“AYE DIOS MIO!” you hold your hand over your racing heart and carlos crumples to the floor in a fit of hysterics. you can’t help but join in soon, but not without playfully swatting at him in a joking matter of pretending to be angry. 

“mi-mi amor,” carlos tries his hardest to get out in between laughs as he begins to sit up, “you’re too easy!” he falls again, most likely due him replaying the scenario again in his head.

“aye! easy? i believe i remember you begging for a date with me, señor,” you continue to chuckle at his phrasing, teasing him relentlessly felt like a duty to you. 

“whatever,” he brushes off the playful comment and turns his attention to the video he recorded of you on his phone, “y/n, this is too funny,” 

“si, bueno. i wish i got that video of you instead, though” you act out a solemn expression and carlos sees right through your jokes.

“well you didn’t, loser. i’m posting this,”

-

you and carlos had opted for a night in after the race due to his fatigue and your absolute need for a shower. after lando had pleaded with you both for a minute to rethink your decision as you were walking back to the hotel, he ultimately gave up trying and muttered a slight ‘old married couple’ at you and carlos while the both of you just laughed at his mini tantrum. 

once inside your hotel room, carlos headed for the shower, but stopped and turned when he noticed you weren’t following.

“i thought you wanted to shower, amor?” he asked in your direction.

“i do, but i kind of want to shower alone tonight, lo siento,” you respond while biting your lower lip to not give away your amusement. see - you had a plan. while carlos was in the shower you were going to get to the vanity and paint on a fake hickey. set up your phone. and get him back for ruining your prank earlier. 

carlos stands looking at you with a bit of skepticism. you rarely shower separately, only when upset with each other and he was beginning to worry, “aye, are you mad about earlier? me scaring you?”

“love, the only thing that is scaring me right now is how stinky you are. i’m not mad i just don’t need a smelly shower with you,” you shrug off his accusation with a laugh in order to lighten the mood and your husband catches on, chuckling with you.

“okay, you don’t need to tell me twice,” he begins to make his way over to you with his arms out wide, “you do want a stinky hug before i hop in, no?” calling your bluff he tries to latch his arms around you as you scream and try to run away.

“sto-stop!” you giggle as he grabs you in his arms, “eww! carlos!” the whine slips from your lips as he starts planting kisses all over your neck and face, tickling you causing you to let out more laughter. his grip loosens and he backs away towards the bathroom, grabbing his change of clothes off the dresser as he does so. one arm raised and a finger pointed at you he lets go of a very loose warning, “this isn’t over, cariño,”

“oh no!” you gasp in dramatics, “the tickle monster! what am i five?” carlos just laughs and releases a ‘loca’ under his breath as he shuts the bathroom door and turns on the shower. you then quickly get to work with your makeup, planting the perfect looking hickey in a place he hasn’t seen all day, but will very soon. once it was done, you discreetly hide your phone and patiently wait on the bed for carlos to leave the bathroom. 

fresh out of the shower, your husband steps into your room with just a pair of sweatpants on as he continues to run the towel over his damp hair. you take that as your sign to begin your prank and tie your hair up into a bun - giving carlos the perfect view of your neck. walking over to him, you plant a kiss on his lips and step back from him as he turns his attention towards his wife. looking you up and down for a second, making eye contact with the hickey, you feign confusion and innocence by proceeding to ask, “que, mi amor? is there something on my face?” you attempt to turn and ‘check’ yourself in the mirror, but carlos pulls on your arm, spinning you around to face back at him. he quickly discards the towel in his hand, throwing it to the floor, as he looks closer at your neck. 

“did you hurt yourself, cariño?” he asks softly, “maybe with one of your hair tools or something,” he finishes as if he’s almost assuring himself. 

“no? what is this carlos?” you question, trying your damnedest not to let out a smile.

“tienes algo en el cuello,” you have something on your neck uh oh. carlos only spoke direct spanish with you when he was deep in a feeling - lust, happiness, anger. “parece un…” it looks like a… 

“que?” you ask softly.

“a hickey, y/n. it looks like a hickey. y sé muy bien que no fui yo quien te dio esto,” and i know very well it was not me that gave you this

“oh, oh that? ya, um, actually that might be from my curling iron, you were right!” responding lightly only made carlos narrow his eyes at you further. 

“y/n, qué hice mal,” what did i do wrong?

“oh no, carlos, baby, nothing- you did nothing wrong,” you panic at his sadness and hold his face in your hands, “it’s just a prank, los, te lo prometo,” i promise you

he looks down at you, widening his eyes in hope before he says anything, then you hear - so quietly you almost miss it, ‘take it off’. 

“i will, i will baby. come here, come with me,” you lead him into the bathroom, grabbing your makeup wipes in haste and rubbing the fake hickey right off your neck. you hear your husband let out a long and deep exhale before he gives your sides a squeeze. 

“you just took ten years off my life with that stress, amor,”

“lo siento, carlos. i’ll even show you the video where i put it on if that makes you feel better,” you turn around in his hold and give him not one, not two, but three quick pecks to the lips as you drag him back into the room to retrieve your phone. as of that moment, carlos begins plotting his revenge. 

-

the next week, your husband and you arrive early at the paddock for race day due to his necessary media duties. with your hands intertwined, you begin making your way to the ferrari garage - passing a few reporters and fans on the way. while making your way, a few fans had called out to the both of you. carlos always joked that his fans loved you more than him, but every joke has a bit of truth to it. 

“y/n! carlos! over here! can we get a picture?”

your husband - ever the gentleman - turns his attention to the young group of girls at the barricade and leads you both over to them. once carlos had signed a few things and taken a few pictures, you both turn to leave but are prevented by the girls. 

“y/n! can we get a picture with you too!” carlos checks you over, asking you non-verbally if you’re okay with it and you slightly nod in his direction to signify the answer. bending down and over slightly, the girls grab a few selfies with you and speak to you about their love for your tik toks, tweets, and overall personality. with your light ego boost, you turn and chuckle to your husband. 

“isn’t it great that your fans love me more?” you give him a sly smile and a poke to his stomach as he laughs along with you.

“aye, they’re just saying that to make you feel better, amor,” he shoots back quickly.

“nuh-uh,” you scoff back, “they love me so much more, i think i better be the one to race today,” at this point the girls are recording your interaction while giggling at the banter your husband and you have provided. 

“in your dreams, cariño,” he bites back with a smile.

with that comment, you whip around to face the group, “do you hear how he speaks to me? my own husband! he hates me!” you sigh dramatically as carlos pulls you into his arms. the crowd before you erupts in laughter at your antics and your husband bids polite goodbyes, leading you away. you’re both leaving in cackles as you continue to jab each other back and forth.

as you round the corner to the ferrari garage, you both run into fernando walking towards aston martin. 

“hola, nando!” you call out with a wave. he stops curtly and leans in your direction, arms parting for a hug. you receive it kindly, swaying lightly back and forth all while exchanging pleasantries. 

“aye, he oído felicitaciones están en orden,” i hear congratulations are in order fernando presses with a smile.

“porque felicitaciones?” why congratulations? you ask back to him. 

“oh! lo siento, ¿se supone que nadie debe saberlo?” i’m sorry, is no one supposed to know?

your confusion ends when you turn to your now - dying laughing - husband at your left, “¿le dijiste a todo el mundo que estaba embarazada?” did you tell everyone i was pregnant?

carlos can’t even shake out words at this point due to laughter as he just begins to vigorously nod his head yes. fernando takes this as his sign to head back in his previous direction, chuckling under his breath something about ‘these damn kids again’. 

“you’re dead, carlos sainz,” you state matter-of-factly at him. 

“i’m sorry, me or my fathe-”

“YOU KNOW WHO!” you yell back, cutting off his smart ass comment, “does the whole grid really think im fucking pregnant, you ass?” this time carlos’ laughter is cut short and he just slowly shakes his head yes, nervousness now overwhelming his features instead of amusement. 

“do you now realize how stupid that was?” you ask him again. again he slowly nods his head yes, his eyes only meeting his shoes. out of your peripheral, you can see lando approaching the both of you and he holds out his arms in glee.

“there are my favorite soon-to-be parent-”

“SHUT IT!” you snap in his direction, “the only child i will be raising for the foreseeable future is the one in front of me,” you nod your head towards carlos, and his eyes - again - never leave his shoes. lando begins to laugh even louder than your husband did before at his friend being scolded like a child.

“oh i am so tweeting about this,” he lets out between laughs. 

you take a glance over at your husband and whisper a light ‘karma’ into his ear before you kiss his cheek and head off to find his family in the garage. 

-

after the race, carlos is doing interviews and you are searching to find him. not being in the media pen, but instead just along the gates talking to reporters, you easily walk up to your husband and wait over to the side for him to finish. the reporter speaking to him notices your presence and begins to wave you over. you shake it off quickly, wanting your husband to have his shining moment, but instead he also joins in waving you over - causing you to reluctantly head in their direction. 

“hi!” you squeak out to the reporter, carlos pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“hi, y/n! thank you for joining us for the interview!” the young woman starts. 

“thank you for letting me crash!” you reply back with a giggle. 

“not crashing, you’re here by invitation,” your husband speaks up, kissing your forehead after doing so.

“i’m sorry if we were too forward to invite you,” the reporter chimes in fast.

“no, no!” you assure back, “i just didn’t want to outshine ‘ole carlos over here, you know how it is,” you joke, giving the reporter and your husband a laugh. 

“for sure,” the young woman gives you, “we love you two as a couple, you both have been informally deemed the grids funniest couple with all your banter and tik tok pranks, how do you both feel about that title?”

“it’s a heavy weight to carry,” you dramatically sigh, “i have to keep the people on their toes and give them what they want,” the reporter laughs once again at your comments as you shrug before your husband chimes in, “funny wife, happy life - right?” you all share one more laugh before the reporter lets you two depart. 

as you’re walking out of the paddock, hand in hand, you reach up on your toes to plant a kiss to carlos’ lips. he hums back in approval, stopping you, with his hold moving to your waist and pressing deeper. you smile into the kiss and can feel him doing the same. once pulling apart, your husband stares into your eyes, the contact moving from eye to eye to lips. you almost crumble watching him shamelessly adore you. 

“what are you thinking about, amor?” you gently ask, attempting not to ruin the soft moment with loud diction.

“just how much i love you, cariño,” his reply is simple, yet means so much. even though you both are playful with your antics and pranks, your love is something that never falters with seriousness. and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[moondirti]

so.. simon and johnny stopping by a seedy 24/7 roadhouse on their way back home post-op

featuring: established ghostsoap. pregnant fem!reader. alluded kidnapping, extremely toxic attitudes. they’re literally delusional. mentioned death. this verges on dark so please beware!

They’ve driven past it about a hundred times, never having given it more than a passing glance. Who would, really? Nothing about it seemed appealing – in all its sun-bleached paint job and flickering neon signage glory – but circumstances lent themselves to its consideration. What was supposed to be a half-day mission ended up taking two, meaning they haven’t had time to sleep let alone eat. On top of that, a delayed exfil made it so they touched down on base at an ungodly hour. By the time Price waived their paperwork and they got into their car, they were famished.

“Could eat the scabby heid aff a dog,” Johnny eventually groans. He’d tried his best to hang in there, mindful not to be a pest during the hours it takes his partner to decompress after a rough operation, but his stomach kills and he knows Simon’s does too. He only receives a grunt for a response, though the man abruptly steers into the leftmost lane, catching the nearest exit towards the place in his periphery. Cleary meant to model an American diner with it’s fading blue exterior and obnoxious banner: The Dahlia

But they’ve been in worse. They hardly take note of the coffee rings staining their table, or the homeless man who’s taken residence in a corner booth (besides the brief once-over in their threat assessment upon entering). No; they just slot themselves by the nearest exit, scan over the menu and decide to order the quickest meal possible.

Only for things to take a sudden turn when their waitress stops by.

Christ alive, Johnny wonders how you manage to glow under the harshest of fluorescents. Dewy skin. Bright eyes, if not a little sunken at the late hour. Still, you smile and do so genuinely as you waddle to their station, clicking a pen before asking: “And what can I do you for, gentlemen?”

Simon doesn’t look at you immediately, not even when you speak up. He’s too fixed on Johnny, replaying the past days’ events in his head. Revisits the hour where their comms malfunctioned, when he lost touch with his boy and had to fight not knowing whether he was holding up okay. He has trust in him, of course, more bleedin’ trust than he has in earth to keep rotating. Still–

You clear your throat.

His pupils shift to pin you under their scrutiny, only he can’t bring it in him to be as severe as he wants to be. Because, while the first thing Johnny notices about you is your beauty, the first thing Simon sees is your bump.

Obscured by your apron, but still there. Round. Full. 6 months along, by the looks of it.

He’s forced to recall Beth, Tommy by extension. An old working knowledge that comes back to haunt him. At 23 weeks, his sister in law’s pregnancy began to weigh on her. Heartburn. Backaches. Hot flashes that resulted in bouts of dizziness. She couldn’t be up for more than 2 hours at a time, and yet here you are.

What the fuck were you doing in a place like this?

“Need more time to decide?” You ask. Patient. Lovely. If Johnny weren’t so sleep-deprived, so in over his head, he would perhaps realise the subtle hints you were dropping. They’ve been staring too long now, unsettling no doubt. Grimy, each with a tell-tale bump on their waistbands that point to their armament. Simon sans hard-shell mask, but still in a balaclava and eyeblack. Both larger than life and practically alone with you in this isolated place.

It’s Simon who speaks up first. “Fish and chips for the both of us. To-go. Cheers.”

You scribble the order down, pausing to consider. “Coffee? Gotta inform you, it’s drip, bottom of the carafe so it might taste burnt too. Hotplate’s all out of sorts.”

“Aye, just the one. Gae head an’ dip yer finger in it too. Might benefit from a little sweetener.” It takes you a second to process Johnny’s flirt. When you do, though, you visibly blanch, ducking your head to hide your face as you pretend to jot what he said down.

“I’ll have that right out for you.”

And then you scurry off, glancing over your shoulder once you think you’re out of sight. Curious. Flustered.

Simon’s attention refocuses on the scotsman once you’re gone, an eyebrow raised under his mask. His partner is able to read the expressed question well enough: what do you think you’re doing? Strict, but not so much angry as it a press for him to think before he speaks, to balance the scales before he asks something of Ghost that he can’t refuse.

“Dinnae look at me like tha’.” Johnny whispers. “Bonnie lass, isn’t she?”

Simon blinks. “Expecting, too.”

“We cannae leave her here.”

Memories occur in rapid succession. Tommy. Beth. The cherubic face they had brought into the world – little Joseph, who was the first he found dead upon returning home.

He considers Johnny, Soap, this force of nature that wormed his way into his life and sunk his teeth into the rot of his heart, fastened before Simon could even think of brushing him off.

“And here’s that coffee! Your meals should be coming out soon, thank you for being patient.”

It’s a bad idea. Horrible. You could have a partner, a cozy home waiting for you. Nursery already painted. Names already chosen.

What good partner would let you work this shitty job?

It’s a bad, horrible idea. No good for anyone. They’re on constant deployment. They risk their lives on every run. You’d be put in harm’s way yourself.

Not if they hide you well enough. Their house is secluded for a reason.

It’s a bad, horrible, no good idea – but Johnny accepts the mug with a gracious smile and you bloom all pretty, hand inadvertently cradling your belly. Little flower, persisting against all odds. Growing from the fissures of broken concrete. Dignified still. Kind. Strong.

So what if they pluck you from your place? They’ve got somewhere much better for you to thrive.

next part

[corseque]

As I'm replaying Dragon Age: Origins and Dragon Age 2 and Dragon Age: Inquisition, I'm going to use the conversation toolkit each time and in each area that Elven is used in the series.

I've already found several bits of elven that are not on the wiki at all. And for many of the text that never had a translation before, there are translations in the localization comments.

I did a poll on twitter asking people if they thought this was good enough evidence to update the elven wiki, and got a 99% yes answer, so I updated the dragon age elven wiki, with an explanation in the /talk section. (Anyone can open Origins dialogue tree files in the DA Toolkit and see that these translated comments are in their own version of Origins)

All of this to say, we finally can say we know the canon words for "mother" and "no" and "brother" and "sister" in elven in Dragon Age. And several new long phrases.

Ghostly Boy in the Lair of the Undead in Dragon Age: Origins

"Mamae? Mamae na mara san…" VO/Localization Comment: the young boy is crying pitifully, he asks "mah-MAY?" in a hopeful manner and then says "mah-MAY nah-MAH-rah san" hoplessly (as if saying "mother is gone")

"Mamae! Mamae, se vara sal!" VO/Localization Comment: phonetically: mah-MAY! mah-MAY! suh VAH-rah sawl! he is calling out for his mother as he says this, crying pitifully

"Mamae! Mamae! Mamae!" VO/Localization Comment: The child begins calling out in a strange language for someone. He begins to sob uncontrollably and shouts louder. "mah-MAY" = mother

shade in the Lair of the Undead in Dragon Age: Origins

"Ma halani! Se vara lassa'val! Nae mal!" VO/Localization Comment: the elf is caling for help, terrified, and then screams and calls on her gods to save her. phonetic breakdown: mah hah-LAWN-ee! suh VARE-ah luh-suh-VAHL! nay mahl! The last phrase "nay mahl" should be shrieked in terror as the elf turns and run

ghostly elf in the Lair of the Undead in Dragon Age: Origins

"Viran se lan'aan? Ir annala for ros…" VO/Localization Comment: "Who are you? I cannot see you…" veer-AHN suh lah-NAWN? Eer ah-NAH-lah fohr rohs… said hesitantly -- she cannot quite make out the player

"Nae! Ga rahn s'dael! Ga rahn!" VO/Localization Comment: "No! Get away from me! Get away!" Nay! Gah rawn suh-DALE! Gah rawn! Suddenly realizes that the player is an enemy, terrified, backed into a corner

"Ir emah'la shal! Ir emah'la shal!" VO/Localization Comment: "I will kill you! I will kill you!" eer ay-MAY-la shahl! eer ay-MAY-la shahl! she turns on the player in terror, savagely attacking him (combat begins)

[tan1shere]

Look after you

Ellie Williams x female reader !

A/n: currently in the situation where I was slightly drunk earlier, my ass passed tf out for a good 4 hours 😭 but like I woke up and my head slightly hurts (I found out that I had spilt some of my drink in my hair- it was a night ill say that 😃) and it made me think how Els would be while taking care of her drunk girlfriend. Hope you guys like this regardless, I kinda made this more comforting as I need that right now fr 😔✊🏻

Summary: Ellie taking care of her drunk girlfriend, but why is she even drunk in the first place ?

Warnings: drinking, swearing ? Slight angst in a way ??? Mentions of depression. Just cute fluffyness tho :) - this is set in where they are still in that little town ♡

Masterlist

The smell of alcohol was all that could be smelt in the small bar you and Dina were at. You two decided to go out for the night, the both of you getting absolutely wasted. When Jesse came to pick the both of you up he was shocked at the two of you for drinking so much. "You two are insane." He said as he walked with you guys. "I'm so sane." You'd slur. Which earned a hum from Dina. "I'm going to Ellies, later." You said as you stumbled off. You go over to her little garage of a home, just clumsily opening the door. Everything was spinning, your mind was so dizzy but oh boy did you feel good. As you enter you see Ellie on her bed reading a comic. She looks up at you. "Oh Jesus you look drunk as a skunk." She begins to get up. "I dunno what you're on about." You mumble, heading over to her couch feeling as if your legs were about to give out. She sighs. "Did Dina get this wasted too?" You don't answer only shrug.

She awaits for an answer when she hears giggling, she looks at you slumped on the sofa, laughing like a little weirdo. It only makes her smile tho. "Come on, let's get that makeup off." You look at her as she speaks. "Noo I'm comfortable!" You say, moving slightly on the old couch. "And I'm not taking 'noo' for an answer, I know you. You'll hate yourself in the morning." You groan, but still staying in your spot. "Don't make me come over there." She begins to walk over, when suddenly you feel a presence on top of you. "Ughhh get off." You weakly try to push her, this just makes her laugh. "That's cute. But don't make me have to bring it over here, I'll go into the bathroom and grab those cloths don't put it past me." She puts a finger in your face, you then look at it, going to bite it gently. "Ay!" She exclaims pulling it away. This makes those previous giggles return.

"You're such a fucking menace you know that." You hum as she says that. "You love my menaceness." She shakes her head at you. "That's not even a word, you drunkie." You open your eyes up fully to look at her. "Well I made it one." Ellie rolls her eyes at how silly that statement was, making her laugh once again. She gets up eventually going to leave for the bathroom. "Nawww." "Stop your whining I'll be right back." Your drunken mind finds that funny, starting to smile and giggle as you replay her words in your brain. "You loveeee when I'm whiney." She raises her brows, coming over to you with a warm cloth. "Don't start with me Missy." She says as she sits on the couch, moving your legs so they're resting on her lap. "You didn't deny it." You sing. "If you don't shut up now you really will be whining."

You give her a silly little glare. But it did make you shut up. She begins to bring the face cloth over your makeup, wiping slightly. You being your annoying drunk self goes to swat her hand away. "You little monster." "Hey! I'm not little." You huff, but she ignores all these antics going for your face again. "No. No touching, I'm not even speaking to you right now." Which puts a smile on her face because you were indeed speaking to her. "Is that so? May I know why?" You shake your head. "No, you figure it out since you're so big and smart." You huff again. "Cuz I called you little huh?" You just give her a look. "God you're pleasant when you're drunk." She says sarcastically. "Say you're sorry for calling me short and then you can do whatever it is you were doing." She gives you a be for real look, rolling her eyes with a shake of her head. Knowing you are drunk still, just going to do so anyways.

"I'm so very sorry I called you little. There." You ponder for a second. "Nope, didn't say what i told you to." This makes her let out a huff. Earning a cheeky smile on your face. "God you're trouble." "Say it." You giggle. "I am so incredibly sorry that I called you short. Happy?" She says. "Yes very." You could feel the tiredness taking over, she notices. "Come on, let's sit up." She goes to try and get you to do so, making you groan as your head started to hurt from the dizziness. Not long after she was done with taking your makeup off, going into the bathroom to put the cloth on the small railing she had. When you suddenly felt like- "Ellie.." You began. "Yes my drunkie." But she didn't realize you had gone serious as your tone was still slurred. She comes out to look at you. "Baby?" Her brows furrow. "I think I'm gunna-" you don't even need to finish that sentence before she's over there helping you up and into the bathroom where you immediately puke in the toilet.

The groan you let out makes her heart hurt as she knows you hate puking. She holds your hair back as you continue to chuck up your guts, feeling slight tears spring from your eyes. "I hate puking." She gets on the floor with you. "I know babygirl. I'm sorry I got home so late tonight, even tho that doesn't matter I should've gone down to see you." There was a silence as she began to stroke some hair out of your face. "Whyd you drink so much love." She asks softly, you just shrug in return. Honestly you don't know why. You'd been feeling a little off lately and you thought this night with Dina, having some drinks would ease the slight sadness inside you, but if anything it's made you feel worse. "Talk to me sweetheart." That makes you look at her, feeling tears again. This time they were genuinely sad ones, not out of pain from puking.

"I don't know whats wrong with me." You sob, one thing Ellie hates is when you cry, she just wishes she could take that pain away for you. "Nothings wrong with you my girl, nothing." She says, cupping your face gently. "I don't even know why I'm sad, i- I have no reason to be." You hiccup not only from the crying but also from the fact your still just a tiny bit drunk. Which makes her say this. "Why don't we talk about this when you're fully with it yeah? I think you've had a long night and rest is the best thing right now." You nod, agreeing. "I'm going to get you some water ok?" You let out a small mhmmm in understanding. Getting up with her. She walks you over to her bed, carefully laying you down on your side, brushing any loose hair out of your face and making sure your comfortable. She came back with a glass, getting you to sit up a bit and drink it. But you were worried to, as you didn't want to puke again.

"Drink it, please. You lost alot of fluids you need it." You know you do, but it wasn't easy. "I promise you won't puke, why don't you suck on some ice instead." This makes you feel happy inside. "Ice chips?" She smiles at you. "Ice chips." All you wanted was to give her a big hug and a kiss. She truly knew you and you couldn't thank her enough for being such a great girlfriend. "I love you Ellie." She grabs your hand smiling more. "I love you baby. Let me get the ice hm?" You nod softly at her words. As she goes to get it you sit and think. You really didn't know why you were so upset inside lately. Maybe it was the dull weather or another one of your depressive episodes. You did miss Ellie though, she has been so busy lately you feel like you haven't really been with her. Maria always getting her to go on patrols, poor Ellie never has a day off, even if she loves what she does everyone needs a break from time to time.

She comes back over with a tiny bowl and some small ice chunks. "Here you go pretty girl." You thank her going to suck on the first one. She sits on the bed just looking at you admiringly, putting any annoying piece of hair out of your face. "Els?" "Hmm?" She hums gently. "Why don't you have a day off from patrol baby." She softens her look as you say that. "Get Maria to ask someone else, you're always working your ass off." And it all clicked on why you said what you said earlier. "I'm so sorry." You get a bit confused by her apology. "I should've seen you were getting depressed again." That makes you look into your lap fiddling with your hands, but she grabs them. "Look at me baby." And you do. "From now on I'll take the breaks i need and to spend that time with you. I realize I do work alot, and I don't really need to- but I'll tell her that from now on." You nod.

"It worries me Els." She shakes her head. "I don't ever want you to worry about that-" "but it does baby. I see how worn out you are. Take tomorrow off, please?" Which she immediately nods to. "Ofcourse, I was going to anyway. Gotta look after my hungover girl don't I?" You smile at her. "I'm still sorry tho my love. I never ever want you to feel lonely inside, and seeing you cry earlier broke me. I hate seeing you cry." You hold her hand tighter. "I'll be okay, I've got my amazing protector." She smiles big. "Dina." You try not to let out a laugh at Ellies offended face. "I'm kidding I'm kidding." "You better be, I don't see her here looking after you, do you?" You smile more. "No. Ofcourse I meant you silly." She just smiles now. "Ok good, cuz I'm just that amazing." She says, putting her arm up showing her muscle. "And your protector." That makes you laugh more going to punch her arm. "You goofball." She gives you a small glare. "Ow that hurt." She tries to look sad but she immediately laughs, making you join in with her.

Ellie then wipes the left over tears from before. "So it's a plan, no more working overtime when I truly don't need to, and spend all that time with my special girl." Nodding, as you smile. "It's a plan." "Good." She goes to lean into kiss you but you pull back, leaving her stunned. "I have puke breath.." She just lets out a pft noise. "Good God woman, I've watched you pee and crap before, a little puke isn't going to gross me out, not to mention I literally watched you hurl." You playfully roll your eyes. "You're mad." "For you? Fuck yeah." Your smile hasn't been so big in a long time. You were glad to be back. And so was Ellie.

[dipperscavern]

Congrats on 1k, Dippy!!!! I don’t know if you do angstier prompts, but for the potion brewing, Stark of your choice and them thinking you’re dead (you’re not)?

thank you very much !! i chose robb for this, felt like y’all haven’t seen him in a while <3

robb stark x fem!reader

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

“Robb.”

catelyn sits across from her eldest son, whom hasn’t stopped pacing since the battle ended more than an hour ago. whether it be pacing, tapping his fingers, or absentmindedly moving his hands while he thinks, she hasn’t been able to get him to cease his ministrations.

of course, her words have no effect, and his fingers continue in their incessant tapping. she sighs, knowing her attempts are fruitless.

you’ve always fought with robb. though advised against it — what would become of the war if you both were killed? — you unsheathed your sword nonetheless. some argue robb fought harder knowing you were at his side. while anxiety inducing, you both had won every battle you’d fought, always returning side by side. until now.

you had been swarmed by horsemen, separated in the midst of the fight. no matter how much he wanted to drop everything to find you again, robb had a duty to his men, and had to trust your ability to take care of yourself. so he didn’t — and he’s been blaming himself for it ever since the battles end.

cat has no doubt robb mulls over that very decision in his mind now, replaying it and wishing he had decided differently. what difference it could’ve made, they’re both unsure, but guilt leaves him wondering nonetheless.

robb stands, turning and walking toward where his sword lay on the bed. catelyn knows what he thinks. “Where are you going?”

“To find her.”

“You can’t.” she stresses. again, he doesn’t seem to hear her, moving to walk past her and to the exit. she stands up, blocking his path before he can get the chance. he stops, sighing. “Mother,”

she tries reason. “You’ve already sent men searching.”

“Move.”

“You are a king, you cannot act in rashness.” his brows furrow at her words, and he frowns. “Aye, a king without his queen.”

“If you act in emotion, your men will think—”

“My men think it a miracle I’ve not yet ordered hangings in my emotion. Father would—”

“Your father knows—” commotion stirs in the background, but they’re both too immersed in their argument to pay it mind. words and steel are weapons alike, and cat is no swordsman. she’s desperate to steer him toward rationality.

their voices mingle together in bickery, volume increasing by the moment. the volume of commotion in the background increases with them. soon, footsteps quickly approach, and the tents flap is opened. robb and catelyn both are fast in silencing themselves, attention now on the guard in front of them.

“I beg pardon your graces, but her grace has been found.”

silence ensues for only a moment, shock reverberating throughout the atmosphere. robb and cat look at each other, eyes wide and lips parted. wordless, robb begins to move, with cat falling in behind him.

robb spots the search party he sent out, and the commotion settles down once they realize they’re in the presence of their king. he scans the small crowd for you; lord karstark, ser rodrick, theon, other men of theirs robb is yet to learn the names of. he and theon make eye contact, and then behind him, emerges you. bloody, dirty, and exhausted; but it’s you.

and in this moment, robb forgets himself. he forgets all “kinglike” mannerisms, quick to rush to you. you’re equal in your want, accepting him with open arms.

he nearly knocks you off balance, but in that moment, with you finally in his hold again, he can’t find it in himself to care. a shuddering exhale as he presses his face into the crook of your shoulder, a hand coming to rest in his curls; he never did enjoy anyone’s touch as much as yours. he melts into you, grime and filth covered and audience and all.

“It’s okay,” you say, breathless. “I’m okay.”

he only pulls you closer.

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

[andrewknightley]

alistair: you had been the first woman i have sleep with and i would like you to be the last :)

me: (looks at the camera knowing what has to happend for both to survive)

[miirohs]

all I want is you now [l.h.m]

pairing: Mob Boss!Lewis Hamilton x GN!Reader wc: 0.9k cw: n/a an: i wrote a majority of this the night before my learners license test EL EM AY OH and i passed btw! i need lewis hamilton in a way beyond the comprehension of the average man.... Also I’m super tired so if this isn’t coherent I’m sorry </3

It seemed like all you could breathe was the earthy smell of expensive cologne in Lewis’s office, twisting around you in an almost pervasive manner as you curled up against the armrest of the couch. 

He was still working on vacation, the sounds of pen scratching against paper quietly filling the air. The frame of his reading glasses glinting in the lamplight, washing the room over with an almost drowsy sort of atmosphere. 

You’d tried everything to stay awake. Only, the book you were reading seemed to further disengage you rather than keep you active, drooping slightly before jolting back to look around. The words blurred together, refusing to hold your attention for a moment more.

Lewis remained unengaged with you. You were sure if he had seen even a moment of drowsiness, he’d have kicked you out immediately, claiming that you needed your rest more than he did. 

Still, you couldn’t help but watch him, letting your stare linger for a few moments longer than you intended to.

"Enjoying the view?" Lewis finally spoke, voice low and raspy from a lack of use, continuing on without sparing you a glance. 

You felt a warmth creep up your neck, embarrassment registering in your brain moments later.

"I didn't mean to stare," you muttered indignantly, quickly lowering your gaze back down. The fright he gave you made your heart race, though you were sure that wasn’t the only reason.

“You’ve been doing it a lot for the last hour or two, clearly you didn’t think I’d notice. ‘S there something you want from me, baby?” he humored you, a teasing look in his eyes as he stared at you.

"I was just curious," you managed to blurt out, voice keening slightly towards the end. "It's just… interesting to watch. You always look so focused."

“You sure that’s all?” He questioned, cocking his head at you. He could read you, clear as day, and you let him piece you apart once again.

Lewis glanced at you, a thoughtful look gracing his face. "You know," he began, "that’s always been the thing with you." You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in stop. "What do you mean?" you asked cautiously.

“You won’t ask,” he said, leaning back in his chair, a playful grin on his face. "It’s like you’re afraid of me or something babe. Even if it kills you, you wouldn’t ask until I pester you for an answer, yeah?"

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still locked onto yours, a playful glint in them. "Come here," he said softly, patting his thigh.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as you replayed his words in your head, unsure if you had heard him correctly. The invitation was still clear as day in the way he looked at you, swallowing the doubt at the sound of his laughter.

"Come on," he coaxed, low and inviting. "I don't bite."

Slowly, you pushed yourself up from the couch, cringing internally as you awkwardly approached him. He left no room for hesitation, gently pulling you into his lap.

"See? Not so bad," he teased, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back.

You were pressed up against him, fingertips brushing against his back as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. For a moment, the smell of his perfume disappeared from your senses, tracing the tattoos on the back of his neck and downward from memory, the feeling of soft cotton running against your fingertips.

"You're always so tense," he murmured, his hands moving in soothing circles on your back. "Just relax."

Your hands hit the small of his back, brushing up against metal hidden against his spine. He didn’t seem to mind as you pulled it out, pointing it to the opposing window before dropping your hands.

“That’s coming from you, Lew.” You said dolefully, pushing away from him to look him dead in the eyes. “How many times have you been out on doing god knows what in recent days instead… instead of being here? With me?” 

He only hummed quietly, a disappointment of sorts blooming in your chest when he responded a heartbeat later. “So that’s what you wanted to tell me, wasn’t it baby?” 

You could only stare at him juggling between what possible emotions you were going to feel next.

At the look on your face, he shook his head, slipping the gun away from your hands as he leaned in for a kiss.

Despite the anger and disappointment simmering inside of you, it only seemed to melt away at the feeling of the kiss, pressing into it.

He always tried to kiss it better, thought you weren’t entirely sure he knew what he was doing right now.

“Gotta tell me in your words what you want me to do to make it right, baby.” He said, slightly breathless as he looked at you, earnest in his attempt.

“Well, then could you drop this?” You grabbed the gun from his hands again, throwing it onto the desk as you grabbed him gently by the tie. “And please, please just come back to bed? I miss you.”

He didn’t seem phased by your demands, nodding along easily as if a puppet being pulled by strings.

“I can do that, yeah, ‘s there anything else you want from me though?” You leaned into him again, allowing him to press a kiss to your ear.

“No, I just want you to come back, just once.”  You replied, earning a nod from him as he pressed a question kiss to your neck.

You allowed it, holding one of his hands as he kissed down your neck, as if a silent promise to you, full of love.

[gotranting]

Currently replaying the Stark theme in the "All Must Choose" song from the finale and a short story appeared:

Imagine Y/N going with the Greybeards without saying anything to Cregan. She rides towards the march, joining them only after they were far enough from Winterfell - as the soldiers already knew the girl and her skill, they welcomed another pair of arms in the fight to come.

"Does he know?"

The commander asks as he steers her to the side, glad to see the girl he trained here with them.

"No, but he will soon enough."

"...We are marching to death lass. Not much of a chance of us returning."

She turns to look upon The North once more.

"Aye...I know."

Cregan found out when he came knocking at her door in the village. There was no answer, no smell of strange herbs, no mischievous smile he so loved to see. The door creaks open, freezing air being the only thing to greet him. The fire has been put out, and all the windows are sealed shut. It all leaves a foreboding feeling in him, as he begins to realize what she has done.

His thoughts become a reality when he notices a hastily scribbled note on the table.

"I love you" are the only words left on it.

Cregan's eyes become stormier each time they fall on her handwriting. He wanted her to say it for so long, but not like this.

The paper crumbles in his fist as he rushes to his steed, trying to follow any tracks in the snow. Knowing well it is far too late.

Her horse is the only one he finds near the river that leads further South.

Going after her means leaving his own people to die in the Winter. He cannot abandon them. And she would not turn back, no matter what he did.

She went to fight for him. For the North. For the Blacks. To aid her kinsmen, even if she dies trying.

His hand trembles as he brings the note to his lips, his gaze torn between South and The North.

May the Old Gods protect them.

Let her fight and win.

Let her come back to him alive.

Does he call her foolish upon her return, kissing every part of her bloodied face - refusing to let this stubborn, magnificent woman out of his arms. Do tears fall freely, as they murmur "I love you" to each other? Do the smallfolk rejoice for their Lord and future Lady of Winterfell, when they see how much care the young pair clearly holds for one another? And do they rush to wed under the Weirwood, not wanting to keep apart any longer? Cregan whispers to her that from now on, they fight together. For there are many battles to come. Ones they will face side by side.

2. Or does he hold on to her note, barely keeping himself standing for the sake of his own people, as the funeral pyres burn one by one. He tells her still - how much he loves her. His brave girl. He calls her foolish nevertheless. Only, Cregan wishes that she would reply. He crumbles down in the solitude of his own chambers. The note never leaves his side after that day. Rickon is his heir, he needs no more children. Not if they aren't hers as well. He wishes for no other wife, for the one he wanted is with the Old Gods now. He can still hear her in the wind, or when the ravens fly over him. Protecting them, as she always did. A thought that might bring him comfort one day. Now, he wishes that she were standing here with him.