#game of thrones x ps reader

[plus-size-reader]

Gentle

Sandor Clegane x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2737 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Ned Stark’s eldest daughter finding herself interested by the King’s loyal protector, and even more disenchanted by how he’s treated

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The King’s arrival in Winterfell wasn’t of much interest to you, if you were being honest.

Of course you understood that it was a great honor and that his Grace was very important to your father, but outside of that, you had no real reason to pay the caravan much mind as it moved through the streets of Winterfell.

Had it not been for the pretense of duty and honor, and more severely, the pressure of your mother’s wrath, you truly believed you would have skipped the entire affair.

You weren’t the object of their visit, after all.

As the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you were much too old to be of much interest to the young Prince compared to your sisters, and the King only came to Winterfell with your Aunt Lyanna on the mind.

Really, you weren’t sure why you needed to attend.

Until, you found yourself staring down the traveling party of the King’s guard, and the striking presence of the man they called “the Hound”

You had heard stories of the man over the years, and you knew where the title had come from, but never could you have imagined the man before you now and that man were one in the same. He hardly struck you as some ravenous monster, even then.

…and as the days went by, you found your opinion unchanged.

You existed in Winterfell simply, a privilege afforded you by your father’s title and the love the families of the North had for the Starks.

For the most part, you did what you wanted and didn’t call too much attention to yourself, content to read on the sidelines and follow after your siblings as they grew into their own. That meant that you escaped a lot of the formalities of nobility, as no one really needed too much of your attention.

If they were looking for a Stark to talk to, you were always fairly low on the list and you liked it that way, especially given all the excitement in Winterfall over the past few days.

With Sansa entertaining the Prince, your father entertaining the King and Queen, and the charms of the North keeping the guard away, you finally had a moment to yourself which only meant one thing. You could finally finish your book.

It was all set, just as you wanted it.

The weather had yet to get so bitter cold that you couldn’t stand to be out, so you grabbed a blanket and set it in the clearing near the market, under a big tree. The septa’s rarely bothered you these days, so you should be able to get some peace and quiet.

Not that you got too far before something else caught your eye.

You had only been reading your book for a short time when you heard the familiar sing-songy tone of your sister’s voice, followed unsurprisingly by the nasally pitch of Prince Joffrey.

They were to be married following this trip, and you knew she was excited. You could tell by the way she skipped lightly as she walked, and how she hung on his every word.

You had never been in love yourself, but you had to imagine that was what it looked like. Perhaps that was why you found yourself watching them as they walked, or maybe it had more to do with the Hound, loyal as always, who was trailing behind them steadily.

He was an interesting man, you’d decided.

Even as he walked, he studied the world around him as if he wasn’t a part of it, rather that he was peering in at it from the outside. You felt that you could relate, in some way, as you had always been that way.

They’d chastised you for being a dreamer as a girl. The Septa would take your books and keep them from you, your mother would beg you to engage in your duties as a lady and even Robb and Theon teased you.

Your head was always far away and even now, you had managed to keep it that way. While other women your age married and had heirs for unimpressive Lords, you remained in your father’s homeland.

A place where you could keep your books and your dreams, without having to endure the ugliness.

Not that ugliness was really the problem in the first place.

You were certain that some found the Hound ugly in all his violence and impropriety, but you couldn’t dare count yourself among them. Even now, as you stared at him over your bound paper novel, you saw nothing short of a dream like all the others.

It wasn’t even something you could truly understand, if you had any desire to try. There was just a softness to him, a quiet contemplation that made you feel as if no harm would ever come to you.

That wasn’t a feeling you’d known before now, as that was one of the things the North had never really had. Your father and brothers would rather die than let something or someone hurt you, you knew that, but it wasn’t so simple.

The comfort his presence held went beyond any physical threat or danger, it was almost warm.

Not that you would have ever ventured to admit it.

After all, you had never even spoken to the man and if you tried to explain the way you were feeling to anyone, they would surely have you committed. The hound was a lot of things, but none would have called him warm.

None outside of you that was.

You continued your staring for quite some time, only occasionally looking away from the sight before you to mindlessly turn the page in your book. You imagined you may have sat there all evening if you remained uninterrupted.

However, when your attention returned to the imposing form of the King’s dog across the way to find him already looking at you, the illusion fell away entirely.

Surely he thought you were demented.

In the entire time he and the King’s guard had been in Winterfell, you had yet to speak a word to a one of them but that didn’t mean he was unfamiliar with you. Every time he turned around, he found you sitting somewhere over his shoulder, that same book perched in your lap.

Anyone else may have just brushed you off, assuming you were a bit out there as your family always had, but Sandor couldn’t quite do that.

After all, he had grown used to the weary glances and fearful whispers between people as he passed, but no one had ever paid him so much mind as you seemed to be.

Naturally he was curious.

No one had voluntarily spent that much time looking at him in all his life, and he needed to know what it was about you that was different.

You tensed the moment you noticed his attention, not daring to look away from the weathered pages beneath your fingers, not when you heard him nearing where you sat and certainly not when he stopped at your side.

Neither of you spoke, and you weren’t even sure if you drew a single breath, but he certainly did as he waited. Waited for what he wasn’t sure, but it just seemed to be the thing to do.

As if you would somehow explain yourself if he stood in your presence long enough.

Though, after a long moment passed between you without so much as a glance from you, he decided to just end the torment for you both.

There would be no sense in just standing here all evening.

“Why do you stare so much?” he wondered aloud, his voice just as gruff as it always was, though you caught something else hidden there too. Just beneath the surface, hiding beneath the walls he’d built hugh within himself.

It almost sounded like a sort of nervousness, though you would have imagined him incapable of something so common.

You didn’t answer at first.

Whether it was due to the humiliation of being caught that held your tongue or the nerves of facing down such an imposing man on your own, he wasn’t sure. All Sandor knew for sure was that this was one of the strangest interactions he’d ever had.

If only he knew.

The real reason for your silence wasn’t some twisted interest or shame but because there was no real answer at all. At least not one you’d confidently admit while those brown eyes had you locked in a stare.

You hadn’t meant it to be disrespectful, of course, because the nature of your admiration couldn’t be farther from distaste. However, to a man like Sandor, that was exactly what it looked like.

…What it felt like.

Naturally, after a life of rejection, Sandor assumed that your staring was like that of every else when they looked at him. He assumed you were disgusted by him, and his grotesque face, or perhaps that you were afraid.

He hoped you weren’t afraid.

In any case, he never could have imagined that you would answer him in the way you did, even if it took you a moment to summon the courage to string any words together at all.

“I suppose I’m interested in you” you decided finally, twisting your face up slightly at the way that must have sounded.

It wasn’t quite right, of course, though it wasn’t entirely wrong either.

You were interested in him, but that seemed too simply a phrasing, like all the gravity and sentiment was missing even still.

Sandor only grunted in reply after a brief pause, his gaze drifting across the market, watching as the surrounding northerners studied your interaction, only to drop their eyes when they met his.

They all feared him, and they were right too, because they understood what he was and what he was capable of. Though, maybe that was another thing that you had done since he arrived that was unique to you.

Never once had you looked away from him.

You had never shrunk away or grimaced as they did, even at a time like this when anyone else would have run for the hills. It was certainly new, even he couldn’t be so stubborn as to ignore that.

“What’s so interesting about me?” he wondered, not daring to move closer or join you as you sat, but not moving further away either. Even though it felt wrong to speak freely with an unmarried noble woman like you, it really wasn’t.

You certainly didn’t think so, and you believed that anyone else would agree.

If anything, you were simply making conversation while he did his duty, watching over the Prince and his future bride.

Now, it was your turn to pause, regarding the words on the page only a moment more before you closed it, and discarded it in the snowy grass.

“We don’t have men like you here,” you allowed, considering his imposing frame as he stood above you.

Though you had only seen him from afar until now, at his impressive height and with your current low position, Sandor seemed even larger than he had before. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be frightened by him, which had to have been because he wasn’t frightening in the first place.

The rest of the realm may have treated him like a monster but you hardly believed that made him one.

You could tell in the way he glanced down at you, surprise painting his features, that he wanted to argue with you but he faltered, because he didn’t understand. He wanted to tell you that there were violent men everywhere, and that most were just better at hiding it, but somehow, he knew that wasn’t what you meant.

No matter how diluted that may have made you seem in the moment.

“Gentle,” you clarified, watching as his mind tried to pin down exactly what you were trying to say, because the most obvious answer just wasn’t possible. “Men here are all the same. They’re either ruthless fighters or cowards and fools. On rare occasions, they may be both but neither are gentle as you are”

That was it.

There were the words you had been trying to find before, but it still didn’t feel as if he understood, or perhaps he just didn’t feel as if you had any right to be the one saying them.

After all, you had only ever been in the North and you hardly knew anything about him, or many other men for that matter. What real ground did you have to stand on when it came to this?

“Trust me little girl, there’s nothing gentle about a man like me” he scoffed, washing away any tenderness you’d been feeling in a moment.

Perhaps he was right, but you didn’t think so.

While it was true that there were no other men like him in the North, you had seen your fair share of guarded men hiding from the truth about themselves. Normally they were trying to convince themself that they were braver than they were, or stronger, but it looked the same.

It made them look small.

“It’s in your eyes. You think I can’t see it because you don’t, but it’s there. It’s the same reason you’re still having this conversation with me, even though the Prince snuck off with Sansa” you countered, gesturing to the missing space they’d previously occupied through the pass.

If he’d truly been keeping an eye on them, and nothing more, he wouldn’t have let them out of his sight.

“Maybe I just want to know what’s wrong with you? After all, I thought the future Lady of Winterfell would be a bit more sociable” he argued, almost poking fun at you in a way you hadn’t seen coming.

Which was a welcome break in that untouchable armor of his.

“I am hardly the future Lady of Winterfell. That title will belong to the wife of my brother Robb,” you informed, gathering your skirts to rise to your feet, only to find his hand outstretched to you, a further invitation behind the curtain.

You took it as gracefully as you could and rose to your full height, though you remained entirely dwarfed by the large man at your side.

“And I have never really taken to being sociable, that’s true. It’s my mother’s greatest upset” you teased, straightening out your gown and taking in the full sight of the Hound in all his glory.

He looked small, if that was even physically possible, as you admired him with those eyes of yours. If you thought his gaze was pointed, you had no idea how he felt beneath the heavy weight of your own.

“You’re a strange little thing, aren’t you?” he grumbled, his question hanging in the air untouched for a moment as you studied him, no longer caring how strange it may have looked to anyone else.

You had been right.

He was anything but ugly up close, and it was a tragedy that so few got to gaze upon him in this manner.

“I suppose. Perhaps that’s why I remain unmarried” you suggested, subconsciously hinting at what you knew to be your own greatest flaw, at least in the eyes of your people and your house.

At the very least, the Hound had been able to make something of himself outside of being a husband or son. He could be a warrior, and he was, one of the most fearsome warriors you’d ever seen.

As a woman, you had never been afforded that kind of privilege and you never would. As far as your mother was concerned, you would live and die a spinster, and there was little you could do to change that.

“Perhaps. Or maybe this place really is full of cowards and fools, as you said” he muttered, sparing you one more heady glance before turning his back to you, his attention fully on the clearing ahead.

That was it.

In all the days you’d been admiring him and making a desperate attempt to understand exactly what lay beneath that shell of his, that was all he had for you.

…and you couldn’t have been happier, because for the first time in a long time, you found yourself looking forward to what the days ahead would hold.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— the bubbles are pink, jackass!

pairings: leah williamson x child reader!buddy x reader!monkey

summary: buddy learns a new word from monkey and can't stop repeating it, meanwhile leah's almost have a breakdown over it.

Thank you to @alotofpockets for her help with getting this one started as well!

"The bubbles are pink, jackass!"

The not so innocent words that slip out of the 3 year old's mouth are enough to make Leah completely freeze in her spot and widen her eyes in disbelief.

"D... Did she just," Leah stutters her words in horror, having to question herself if she heard it right, "Did you just hear that then?" She wonders.

Looking to where Buddy is sat on the sofa playing with Mr. Bear, the blonde's still baffled to hear what is said and doesn't want to believe it came from the little one.

Meanwhile your minding your own business, pretty much hyper focused on scrolling through your Instagram while eating your cereal, "Oh yeah, I heard that," You can't help but snort in amusement, feeling a sense of pride for your little buddy, "Clear as day."

Leah clicks her tongue disapprovingly once she's gotten over the shock horror of the words coming out of her innocent little girls mouth, "Need I ask where she heard that from?" She questions.

"Accusations! False accusations!" You drop your spoon in the bowl of cereal and point your finger directly at the blonde.

"Mhm sure, I don't believe that for a single second," Leah murmurs, shaking her head in disagreement, "I know exactly what you're like at times!"

"ExCuSe Me!?" You gasp in shock at the blonde pointing her finger at you straight away, "You know nothing... Nothing, Jon Snow!"

So you'd been a bit hooked on Game of Thrones, but so what?

"Oh really, so if I don't ask her then she wouldn't tell me that?" The blonde remarks, raising her eyebrow which makes you suddenly go silent, "Yeah, that's what I thought!"

"Okay so maybe I did but in my defense, it's not even that bad of a word!" You can't help defend yourself, shrugging your shoulders.

"No, no, I don't wanna hear it!" Leah held her hand up to cut you off from speaking any more, "Monkey, she's 3! You know that she listens to everything that you say!" The blonde's face is furious and you know that you did mess up this time.

You should really try and stop talking, but of course you do the exact opposite.

Shrugging your shoulders, you go back to staring at the Instagram screen, "There's kids that have said so much worse--"

"Ah, ah, no I said I don't want to hear it!" The blonde states, firmly, "Stop talkin', Monkey!"

"I'm just sayin' that I'm not surprised she hasn't picked up something worse," You insist, knowing there's been times where you've been playing on the PS and your not so colourful language has slipped out, "So many things worse than that word."

"Your really diggin' your own grave here, Menace," Leah states, continuing to look at you annoyed before she looks over to her mini-me, "Buddy, can you come here a second?" She calls over to get 3 year old's attention.

"Hi mummy," The little one flashes the blonde an innocent smile, before she runs over to you both with her hands still clutching the teddy bear, "Look, I got Mr. Bear!"

"Yeah I can see that, Buddy," The blonde laughs faintly, hoisting the toddler up onto her hip, "Listen here, missus, me and you need to have a little chat."

"About what, mummy?" Buddy cocks her head to the side, curiously.

You can't help but snicker in amusement, "You got a sailor mouth and half, Buddy-- Which she totally didn't get off me!" You start to speak as you see the scowl Leah's giving you and are quick to state to avoid the wrath of the blonde, "Alright, I'm just gonna... I'm gonna shut up now."

"Wise decision," Leah comments, pursing her lips before she turns her attention to the little one in the room, "We need to talk about the er, the sentence that you said." She tells, not really sure how best to approach this.

Buddy continues to look confused, "What sen... sentence?" 

"The one that you said to Mr. Bear over there," Leah explains, exhaling a sigh.

"Oh!" Buddy's eyes widen in realisation, "You mean when I told him that the bubbles are pink, Jackass?" The question sounds so innocent coming from your favourite little buddy.

You can't help but crack up laughing right there again, "You can't blame me for that once this time!" Moving to drop your bowl into the sink, you lean up against the kitchen counter as you can't wait to hear the rest of how this conversation is going to play out.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Leah is quick to stop Buddy from saying anything further, "Okay there's no need to repeat it again, Buddy. Can you tell mummy why you said it?" She wonders.

The 3 year old exhales a sigh dramatically and you swear she even did so much as roll her eyes, "Because mummy, the bubbles are pink!"

"Final piece," You speak aloud, accepting the lego block from your favourite little buddy as you attach it to the rest of it, "And there we go, done!" You announce, grinning proudly.

"Yay!" Buddy lets' out an excited squeal and claps her hands, "Can we do more now?" She questions with a glint of hope in her eyes.

You shrug your shoulders carelessly, "Eh, I don't see why not. Which one shall we build now?" You wonder.

Much to Leah's relief, your little buddy hadn't had any slip ups with her newfound sailor mouth.

You didn't fancy taking the blame for that one, again.

"This one!" The toddler points to the new lego set that you'd both picked out together and claps her hands in excitement.

You love how much she loves lego, its' great because it means you can do it together!

You can't help but get carried away with it sometimes.

"Alright, time to get ready for bed now, Buddy!" Leah interrupts the fun that your both having with the lego set.

Buddy looks up at Leah with an adorable pout, "No, mummy. 5 more minutes!" She insists.

Your an absolute sucker for her puppy dog eyes most of the time.

That's why your guilty of letting her get away with so much, sometimes.

Well, actually, pretty much all of the time.

"Come on, you've had long enough," Leah shakes her head in disagreement, "It's time to put your jammies on and get into bed now."

"But mummy," Buddy tries her luck to push for extra time.

Leah smiles a little and shakes her head once again, "No, come on. There will be plenty of time to play with lego tomorrow," Her decision remains firm but still gentle with her mini-me, "Come on, let's go."

"No fair," The 3 year old huffs dramatically and gets up from the floor.

What can you say? She's taking lessons from you.

You even swear she's sometimes more dramatic than you, if that's possible.

"I know," The blonde can't help but laugh amusedly at the toddlers' flare for dramatics.

"No playin' lego without me, Monkey!" Buddy states, bluntly, "I mean it!"

For a 3 year old, she sure is bossy sometimes, and well, no doubt where she gets that from.

"You got it, Bud!" You mock salute the mini blonde, jokingly.

With that being said, you flop onto the sofa and scroll through your TikTok page while Leah takes Buddy upstairs to get ready for bed.

"Wait, Monkey needs to join us for the story!" Ten minutes later, you hear protests from your favourite little buddy upstairs.

It's a routine every single night.

You suppress a grin and jump up from the sofa to head up the stairs two at a time, "I heard my name mentioned!" You exclaim, walking into the bedroom to find Buddy dressed in her pajamas while Leah's searching for a book to read.

You don't know why she bothers to find a new one though, when Buddy always end up wanting to read the same thing every time.

The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

"Agh! Monkey!" The sound of Buddy's shrieks fill the room as you lift her up and spin her around.

"Do you have to rile her up so much before she's about to go to bed?" Leah questions, exhaling a sigh as she picks out the same book.

Shocker, you already knew it would be that.

You mischievously grin at the blonde, "Can't help it now, can I?" Placing the toddler on the floor, she beams a wide smile at you.

"I'm goin' bed now, Monkey. Mummy's gonna read a story!" Buddy states clear as day, sometimes your impressed by the 3 year old's vocabulary.

Her speech is somewhat impeccable for her age.

"You are?" You faux a gasp as her little hands cling around your legs, "Alright, well I guess we'd better get comfy for storytime, eh?" You question, teasingly.

"Uh huh!" Buddy's more than happy to drag you in the direction of her toddler sized bed and your more than happy to oblige to anything that the 3 year old wants.

Like you said, you were easily convinced to do anything when it comes to your favourite little buddy.

"Alright then kids, are we both comfy?" Leah chuckles, watching you as you settle into the small bed beside the 3 year old, its' not that comfortable but Buddy's happy and that's the main thing right now.

"Comfy," You reply, giving her a mocking thumbs up.

"Comfy," Buddy mimics you, giving the blonde a thumbs up as well.

"How many times' are we gonna say the word comfy?" You joke, referring back to the video that the blonde did with Keira during an England camp.

"Menace," Leah lets out a laugh and shakes her head, before she begins to read the story book.

You know most of the lines in the book, so you can't help but read it out word for word, much to Buddy's protest.

"Monkey, stop. Mummy's reading!" Your favourite little buddy huffs, glaring at you almost identical to the way that Leah usually does.

Although coming from a 3 year old is less terrifying at least.

"Sorry, sorry," You can't help but chuckle, trying to refrain from speaking any more of the words out loud to avoid any further annoyance from the 3 year old.

"Alright, all done," Leah states, closing the book and smiles at the sight of you both curled up together, Buddy's fighting to stay awake and your not far behind her, "Time to close your eyes, Buddy."

At least until you hear Buddys' next words.

Buddy lets' out a small yawn as she tiredly rubs her eyes, "Goodnight, Jackass!"

You can't help but snicker, "Oh now that is hilarious," Quickly catching the look of the stern blonde, you move your hand to cover your face to stifle any further laughter.

"Excuse me?" Leah's taken back by the response from the 3 year old.

"I believe she said--" You start to speak.

"I heard what she said!" Leah is quick to cut you off from repeating what the little one said as she turns to look at the youngster, "Buddy, why... why did you just call mummy that name?" She asks, confused.

"Cos' you are, and its' not a bad word. Even Monkey said so!" There goes your favourite little buddy throwing you right under the bus.

Damn it.

"Whoa, whoa, no, uh technically, I didn't... I didn't say that you were!" Your hands fly up in surrender, "I mean I didn't even say it like that, but uh..."

By the annoyed expression on the blondes' face, you decide to make the smart decision and shut up.

"You really need to watch your language around her," Leah murmurs, exhaling a sigh, "You know she literally absorbs words like a sponge nowadays!" Shes' scolding you, like it was all of your fault.

Well, technically... You didn't help matters, but you didn't think she would repeat it.

"That's right, Jackass!" Buddy exclaims, smiling like she was completely proud of herself.

Your not quite sure if she understands what the word means or not, but there's something funny about hearing swear words come out of a little kids' mouth.

"Hey, Buddy," Leah gets the attention of the 3 year old, "We don't swear and say words like that, do we?" She chides gently, but still trying to remain firm.

Buddy pouts in confusion, "Why not, mummy? Monkey says it all the time!" She insists.

Well that's backfired on you now.

You drop your mouth in shock, "Wha..."

Leah clicks her tongue in disappointment, "Yes and Monkey's shouldn't be using them sort of words either," She takes a moment to scowl at you while your just sat there cracking up laughing about it all, "You're not helping here, go and do something productive!"

You stand up from the toddlers' bed and hold your hands up in mock surrender, "Geesh, I say one bad word and suddenly I'm the bad guy round here." You murmur, jokingly.

"Go, now!" The blonde gestures in the direction of the bedroom door, shaking her head in disagreement, "Listen Buddy, you should know that even when you hear Monkey say words like that, it doesn't mean that you should always repeat them, okay?" You hear her continue to speak to Buddy as you make your way out of the bedroom.

"What, even when she says shit?" Buddy doesn't think twice to ask.

Leah exhales a short sigh, "Even when she says them words."

"But what about when you and mama say words like that, though?" Buddy questions innocently, cocking her head to the side with an expression that looks somewhat identical to Leah's.

"Ha, she got you there!" You can't help but snicker in amusement.

"Monkey!" Leah shouts to you in that firm tone of voice your all too familiar with.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'. Geesh!" You huff and continue to make your way to your own bedroom where you plan to watch another marvel film, or you were gonna but ear wigging is so much more fun sometimes.

"Sometimes, yes, even mama and I say words like that at certain times, but you still shouldn't be repeating them, okay?" Leah tells Buddy, trying to get her point across but in a gentle tone of voice.

"Okay, mummy!" Buddy nods along in agreement.

"So no more of the swearing, alright, little miss potty mouth?" Leah jokes, ruffling her mini-me's hair.

"You got it, dude," Buddy nods once again and sticks her thumb up, "Ove' you, Mummy!"

"That's my girl," Leah smiles and presses a gentle kiss on the 3 year old's forehead, "Night Buddy, I love you lots!"

Buddy lets out a small yawn and tiredly rubs her eyes, "Goodnight, Jackass."

You can't help but snort aloud in amusement once again, "Oh man, this kid!" You crack up with laughter, peering your head round the door and seeing the unamused expression on Leah's face once again.

"Right that's it, we're getting a swear jar!" Leah declares, shaking her head in disbelief.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[icarusignite]

Hey Autor,

Could you maybe make a Reader Velaryon/Targaryen x Cregan stark?

The reader is the daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor (the real father is Daemon Targaryen) and the eldest child of Rhaenyra and the heiress of the iron throne.The reader is sent to the Starks at the age of 14 to live with them for some time (no idea what reason there might be). Cregan doesn’t like the reader at first and is mean to her.At some point, the two get closer and fall in love. Maybe just kisses could arise between them no more. After she was with the Starks for some time, one day a lord comes with his daughter maybe Alysanne Blackwood and her father. Because Cregan is engaged to her and should marry her soon,He never told the reader that he was promised to someone else and the reader gets angry. Cregan wants to talk to her but she ignores him. Cregan does not take action against the wedding and marries Alysanne. Alysanne notices that the reader is angry and and provoke her. reader says goodbye to Lord and Lady stark, While Cregan spends time with Alyssane to get to know her. Reader flies home on her dragon because she doesn’t want to be at the wedding. After years, a war in the north has broken out and seems to be lost. Rhaenyra sends the reader and Jace to the north to help the Starks and end the war with their dragons. Cregan has a child with alysanne (but she should still be alive please.) She's still bitter and full of anger. Maybe the two could have a happy ending because Cregan really loved the reader, he didn’t want to hurt her, but it’s called a stark doesn’t break an oath. Of course, the reader does not forgive him directly and makes him feel her anger.

Please a lot of drama, I love big drama.

I am sorry for my English.

Your reader.

Ps: I wrote this request to another author but I don't know if he wants to write it so I wanted to write to you again because I always love your writing 🫶

Cregan Stark x fem! reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.6K

Summary: The five times you told Cregan Stark you hated him, and the one time you actually meant it.

A/N: Hey heyyyy, lol I'm finally back. I'm soo soo sorry this took forever to put out, I've been suffering from massive writer's block and I lowkey feel like my house of the dragon hyperfixation was over for a while so I wasn't feeling too motivated to work on related stuff. Anyway, hope you like what I've done with the premise. Lots of drama but I didn't really see there being a happy end where they actually get together lol. As usual, I love your requests and asks so feel free to send in more (I shall try to get them done in a more timely manner T_T)

I hate you I love you

1. At first sight

Being the oldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and future heir to the Iron Throne meant that you were seldom allowed to follow your heart's desire. You were simply a pawn in the grand elaborate game of life, fit to be moved around wherever someone saw fit. You didn't have much of a say when your mother named you her heir, you didn't have a say when she decided that you would be sent to be fostered at Winterfell for a few years for some reason you could not fathom, and you certainly would not have a say when you would be married off to whatever lord would serve the greatest political advantage. 

You first met the dark-haired boy that was Cregan Stark at the impressionable young age of fourteen, and you were quite intimidated. There was something in his eyes, their steely grey reminding you of an icy winter storm. His uncle, Lord Bennard, currently ruled the north as regent and you could tell that relations were tense between the two of them.

Lord Brennard had led you into the Great Hall, where the fire roared in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. There, standing near the hearth, was a young man of sixteen, with a stony expression, his eyes fixed on the flames. Lord Brennard cleared his throat, and the young man turned to look at them.

"Princess, may I introduce you to my nephew, Cregan Stark," Lord Brennard said with a polite smile.

Cregan regarded you with a cold, distant gaze, his demeanour as frosty as the land outside. He didn't extend a hand or offer a greeting. Instead, he simply nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line, making it clear that he would rather be anywhere else but there.

If you were unhappy with his offputting behaviour, you made no show of it. Your mother had schooled you in the proper etiquette of being a gracious young lady and you extended your hand gracefully. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my lord."

Cregan's response was curt, "Likewise." 

He then turned his attention back to the fire, seemingly disinterested in your presence.

Lord Brennard, ever the diplomat, tried to initiate conversation. 

"Cregan, the princess has travelled a long way to be here. Perhaps you could show her around Winterfell, and introduce her to some of your companions?"

Cregan sighed audibly and finally tore his gaze away from the flames, "Do I have to, Uncle?"

Lord Brennard's expression tightened slightly, but he remained patient, "It would be a kind gesture, Cregan. She's a guest in our home."

You smiled politely, doing your best to break through the young lord's cold exterior, "I would appreciate it greatly. I've heard so much about Winterfell, and I'd love to get to know the people who live here."

Cregan rolled his eyes but eventually relented with a reluctant nod.

"Fine, I'll show you around, but don't expect me to be your tour guide."

"Thank you. I promise not to be a bother," you grinned now, willing him to at least return some of your warmth. 

Cregan's tour of Winterfell was far from what you had imagined. He led you through the castle's corridors and courtyards with long, determined strides, leaving you to struggle to keep up. Your gown, designed for the elegant strolls through the castles of the Red Keep and Dragonstone, was ill-suited for the rugged terrain and brisk pace Cregan set.

"My lord, please, may we slow down?" you called out, your voice slightly breathless. Your soft leather shoes were ill-equipped for the uneven stone floors, and your dress hampered your every step.

Cregan barely spared you a glance, his impatience evident in his voice, "We don't have all day, Princess. You wanted a tour, didn't you?"

You pressed on, determined not to let Cregan's demeanour ruin your first day at Winterfell. You struggled to maintain your composure, but your frustration was building. 

"Yes, but I didn't expect it to be a race. Could you at least wait for me?"

Cregan halted abruptly, turning to face you with a roll of his eyes, "Didn't you promise not to be a bother?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration. You had hoped for a warmer welcome, but it seemed Cregan was determined to make you feel like an unwanted guest. 

"I did, but I didn't realize being polite was such a bother."

Cregan let out an exasperated sigh, and for a moment, you thought he might storm off and leave you behind. Instead, he begrudgingly slowed his pace, allowing you to catch up.

"Fine, let's get on with it."

As you continued the tour, Cregan pointed out various parts of Winterfell with curt explanations, still making no effort to engage in polite conversation. You did your best to show interest and appreciation for the castle's history and architecture, but it was clear that Cregan was not interested in your company.

Later that evening, the dinner at Winterfell was a formal affair, and despite the grandeur of the feast laid out, Cregan continued to be rude and dismissive towards you. He barely acknowledged your presence, and when you attempted to engage in conversation with other members of the Stark household, he would interrupt with snide comments or pointedly change the subject. The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel the disapproving glances of some of the Stark bannermen who were clearly not pleased with the arrangement. You couldn't blame them though; you were an outsider, and Cregan's hostility toward you only made matters worse.

Eventually, you had had enough. After the meal, when you found yourselves alone in the corridor leading to your chambers, you turned to him, frustration boiling over after hours of having kept it simmering under your skin. 

"My lord, may I ask you something?"

Cregan raised an eyebrow, his icy demeanour unchanged, "I don't suppose you'd desist if I refused?"

That was it. Your final breaking point. 

"Why are you determined to be so fucking impolite to me?" your voice exploded, echoing in the empty corridor. 

Cregan's eyes widened, surprised at your use of profanities no doubt. 

Without stopping for a breath, you continued your torrent of complaints, "I understand that you didn't want me here, but have you perhaps considered that I didn't want to leave my home either? I didn't have a say in this, just like you, so if I can muster up the courage to try and hold on to a shred of hopefulness about this whole situation, can't you at least try to be civil to me? You're older than me, after all. Or do you not have the emotional maturity to not be a fucking menace to people you've judged in your head before even getting to know them."

Cregan regarded your outburst with his usual cold indifference, and you felt yourself deflate. Perhaps you had gone too far. Insulting a lord in his home was not proper behaviour befitting a young lady but you would be lying if you said that it didn't bring you a little satisfaction to see the slight cracks in Cregan's composure. There was a glimmer of something else in his eyes as well—a flicker of respect, perhaps. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he finally let out a sigh, seemingly relenting and his eyes softened, almost too imperceptibly.

"Fine," he said grudgingly, his tone suggesting that he was far from genuine. "I apologize if my behaviour has offended you, Princess."

He tacked on the Princess at the end of his sentence, almost as an afterthought and the mockery in it only made the fire in your eyes blaze brighter. You opened your mouth to say something else but Cregan raised his hands placatingly. 

"No, no. I am truly sorry for my behaviour. I had my reasons but I will not give you excuses," he chuckled. "Although I must admit, I did not expect you capable...of that."

Your ears flushed crimson and you ducked your head in embarrassment.

"I hate you Cregan Stark," you mumbled under your breath but when you looked up to see his arrogantly cocked eyebrow and knowing smirk, you realized you did not quite mean it with the intensity he deserved. 

2. Deep in the godswood

One crisp, sunny morning, the two of you found yourselves in the godswood of Winterfell, surrounded by the ancient trees with their solemn faces carved into the bark. You had decided to engage in a rare moment of playfulness, and the game you had chosen was a simple one—tag.

Cregan, always quick and agile, took the first turn as the pursuer. He sprinted after you, his laughter echoing through the godswood. After a few months at Winterfell, you were no longer the delicate princess you once were, and you ran with surprising grace.

As you weaved between the towering trees, the thrill of the chase engulfed you. You darted around a tree, hoping to outmaneuver Cregan, but he was relentless. With a burst of speed, he lunged forward and tagged you, causing you to stumble.

Your foot caught on a root, and you tumbled to the ground with a cry of surprise. You had landed on the soft moss beneath the tree, your dress stained with mud and leaves. You scowled and glanced up at Cregan, who stood over you, victorious and unapologetic.

"You cheated," you accused your voice a mix of irritation and laughter.

Cregan grinned mischievously, "All's fair in love and war, Princess."

You couldn't help but chuckle despite your fall. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your gaze meeting Cregan's. 

"Well, we must be at war then, my lord, for I see no love here in this godswood."

"Oh is that so?" Cregan's eyes twinkled and he watched you in a way that made your ears flush again. 

"I fucking hate you!" you declared, trying to force a scowl on your face.

Cregan's expression softened, and he reached out his hand to help you up. As you looked into his eyes, something shifted within you. You realized that your declaration of hatred was no longer true if it ever had been.

You accepted Cregan's hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet and into him. Your gaze met his, and there was a brief moment where something bright and electric sparked between the two of you. 

Cregan smiled and winked, breaking the soft moment. 

"Let's watch our language, Princess. And don't try to lie to me, I know you better than that."

"Oh, you know nothing at all, my lord."

3. Once upon a fairytale

The ball at Winterfell was a rare and enchanting event, one that had not been held in years. The Great Hall had been transformed into a dazzling spectacle, with chandeliers glittering from the ceiling and banners of House Stark adorning the walls. The air in Winterfell had been doing you wonders and you had grown even more radiant in the past year. Your presence drew the attention of many young lords from noble houses across the North.

You were quickly approached by eager suitors the moment you stepped into the hall, and they approached you with polished manners and flattering words, hoping for a chance to dance with a royal princess. Cregan, watching from the shadows, felt a pang of jealousy as he saw one lord after another try their luck with you, often stumbling over their words in their haste.

In response to their requests, you smiled politely and declined each invitation with a gracious nod. Your eyes, however, never strayed far from Cregan, who it seemed had taken up a dance with another lady—a striking brunette with a winsome smile. 

Finally, when the music shifted to a slower, more intimate melody, Cregan finished his dance and made his way towards you. He extended his hand with a charming smile. 

"Princess, may I have this dance?"

Your response was less than warm. You raised an eyebrow and looked at him with mock annoyance. 

"Oh, my lord, how kind of you to finally grace me with your presence. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

Cregan's smirk was mischievous as he took your hand, "Forgotten about you? Never, my lady."

As you began to dance, the tension between the two of you was palpable. Your voice was hushed as you spoke, your irritation clear. 

"You've been dancing with other ladies all night. I thought you weren't interested in me."

Cregan leaned in closer, his breath ghosting across your throat, "Jealous, are we?"

Your cheeks flushed.

"No," you replied, trying to remain nonchalant, but your tone betrayed your true feelings. "I just thought you were ignoring me."

"Sounds like jealousy to me."

You rolled your eyes, "I hate you, Cregan Stark."

Cregan's eyes twinkled with amusement as he spun you gracefully across the floor, "You don't."

You opened your mouth to protest, but Cregan brought your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and your breath immediately caught in your throat, rendering you speechless.

Cregan held your gaze, his eyes filled with a fierce intensity. 

"No, you don't," he repeated softly as if daring you to deny it.

4. Slowly, and then all at once

Throughout the next grand feast, Cregan couldn't resist cracking teasing jokes at your expense, each one playful but not cruel, designed only to elicit merriment. His quips were met with laughter and amusement from the other lords and ladies, you felt annoyed being his topic of discussion that evening.

After the dinner finally concluded, you could take no more. You caught Cregan by the arm as he was about to leave the hall and dragged him away to an isolated hallway. Your eyes flashed with anger as you turned to face him and although the expression on your face was a serious one, he couldn't help but be mesmerized by the fieriness of it. It was the same expression you had worn the first time you confronted him about his behaviour and unbeknownst to you, that was when he had first started to feel that aching pull toward you.

"What was that all about, Cregan?" you demanded, your voice sharp. 

Cregan's response was unexpected. He didn't offer an apology or a defence of his actions. Instead, he took a step closer to you, his expression intense. Before you could react or voice your pent-up frustration, he kissed you.

It was a passionate, intense kiss that left you momentarily breathless. Your protests were silenced as your lips met his, and your anger dissolved into a mixture of surprise and desire. Cregan's lips were firm against yours, his hands gentle but insistent on your waist.

When he finally pulled away, you were left looking quite dazed and disoriented. Your cheeks flushed, and your heart raced in your chest. Cregan smirked at you, his eyes filled with a blend of amusement and affection.

"Princess," he said softly, "Don't you dare say that you hate me again. It's abundantly clear that you don't."

You tried to form a coherent response, but your thoughts were still scattered from the unexpected kiss. You found yourself at a loss for words, your feelings for the young lord more complex than ever before.

Cregan's thumb brushed gently against your cheek, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead tenderly. 

"Let's not waste any more time pretending, my lady," he whispered. "We both know how we truly feel."

5. I wish I could hate you

The arrival of Lady Alysanne Blackwood and her father brought a flurry of activity to Winterfell. Lady Alysanne was a beautiful and vivacious woman, and her presence seemed to light up every room she entered. As the daughter of an important house, she was greeted with warmth and enthusiasm by Lord Brennard Stark and the other members of House Stark.

You couldn't help but notice the stark contrast in Cregan's behaviour towards Lady Alysanne compared to his demeanour with you when you first arrived. He greeted the Blackwoods with a genuine smile, engaged in polite conversation, and even offered to show Lady Alysanne around Winterfell himself. It was a stark departure from the cold and aloof Cregan you had known at first.

You tried to push aside the feelings of hurt and jealousy that welled up within you. It had been some time since Cregan had treated you with such indifference, and you knew you should let bygones be bygones. After all, you reasoned, Cregan had every right to make new acquaintances and friends. You were still the one he shared kisses with and spoke whispered promises to. 

However, as the days passed, you couldn't shake the feeling of being left behind. Cregan seemed to spend more and more time in the company of Lady Alysanne, showing her the beauty of Winterfell, introducing her to the people of the North, and sharing tales of their homeland.

One evening, as you watched Cregan and Lady Alysanne from across the courtyard, a sense of loneliness and abandonment washed over you. Then came the announcement that turned your blood cold. There was talk around the castle of preparations for a grand wedding. At first, this confused you. Cregan was the only member of the Starks of marriageable age, but he had never discussed something like this with you. And then you realized why, when passing the kitchens late one night, you overheard the scullery maids talking about how lovely a bride Lady Alysanne would make. 

One day, as you walked alone in the quiet gardens of Winterfell, your steps slow and contemplative, Lady Alysanne approached you. You had been lost in your thoughts, unaware of Alysanne's presence until she spoke.

"I must admit, I wanted to see for myself the woman rumoured to be close to my future husband," she said with a smirk.

Your heart sank at the cruel tone in Alysanne's voice, and your voice trembled as you replied, "Your future husband?"

Alysanne nodded, her expression filled with mockery. 

"Yes, Princess. Cregan and I have been promised to each other since birth. It's a marriage that our families have long arranged, for the good of both our houses."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you turned away to hide your emotions. You felt a crushing weight on your chest, the realization that the man you had grown to care for deeply was bound by duty to another. 

Your voice was barely a whisper as you asked, "How long have you known about this?"

Alysanne's tone was sharp and cutting as she replied, "I've known for a while, but I wanted to meet you before the wedding. I wanted to see the foolish girl who thought she could steal Cregan away from his duty."

Your heart ached with a mixture of sadness and resignation. You had to accept the reality of the situation, no matter how much it hurt. 

Alysanne reached out with a mocking smile, but her touch was far from comforting as she placed her hand on your shoulder. 

"I know this must be difficult for you, Princess, as you are probably used to having whatever your heart desires. But you should have known better. Cregan was never yours to have."

Later that very same day, when the sun had begun to set over Winterfell, casting long shadows across the castle grounds, you were sitting alone on a stone bench, your thoughts consumed by the hurtful encounter with Lady Alysanne. You had been lost in your own misery when Cregan approached, his expression filled with concern.

"Princess, I heard about what happened with Lady Alysanne," Cregan began, his voice gentle. "I wanted to make sure you're all right."

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice, but you tried to ignore him, focusing on the setting sun instead. You couldn't bear to look at him, not now, not after everything that had transpired.

Cregan, undeterred by your silence, took a step closer, "Please, let me explain."

Your emotions, raw and uncontainable, finally burst forth. You turned to face him, eyes filled with tears, and voice trembling with pain. 

"Explain? You don't deserve to give me an explanation now, Cregan. Not after all that has happened between us."

Cregan's expression was one of genuine regret as he reached out to touch your arm, "Listen, please, just hear me out."

You couldn't bear to listen any longer. The words that had been building up inside you for so long spilled out in a rush. 

"You should have told me, Cregan. You should have told me that you were promised to another, that you could never belong to me. You should have told me before you kissed me under the stars, before you spun me around in gilded ballrooms. Before you made me hope for something that wasn't real."

Tears streamed down your face, and your voice broke as you continued. 

"I hate you, Cregan."

For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. Cregan's face showed a mix of pain and sadness, but he said nothing in response. You yearned for him to tell you that you were wrong. To tell you that you didn't hate him and that he certainly did not hate you and that he would be yours after all. 

He opened his mouth but no words came out. 

I love you.

The words were just on the tip of his tongue but he could not force them out. He could not be selfish enough to give you hope when he was bound by duty. 

There never lived a Stark who broke an oath.

That was what Cregan's father had always told him, and he wasn't about to be the first stark to do so. And so Cregan chose to remain silent and eventually, he walked away, leaving you surrounded by the shards of your broken heart. Your hands came up to muffle the broken sobs that escaped your lips and the tears that streaked down your face were a testimony to your lie. You could claim to hate him all you want but one did not mourn this much for someone they hated. 

You left the very next morning, after a hasty goodbye to the few people you had gotten to know during your stay at Winterfell and with a heavy heart, you directed your dragon toward your true home. You didn't think you could bear to watch him marry Lady Alysanne and it was better for you to leave now with at least some of your dignity intact. 

~ I hate you and I mean it. 

Several years had passed since the painful encounter with Cregan in the gardens of Winterfell. In the intervening years, much had changed. Your mother had taken the throne after the passing of your grandfather, King Viserys and you had been named her official heir. When news of a great war in the North reached the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaenyra Targaryen, she saw an opportunity to strengthen her alliances and sent her two eldest children, you and Jace, to aid House Stark in the battle, accompanied by their dragons.

With the might of dragons at your side, the two of you made quick work of the war, helping to secure a decisive victory for the Starks. The sight of dragons soaring through the northern skies struck fear into the hearts of their enemies, and soon, the war was won.

In celebration of their triumph, House Stark held a grand feast in honour of the Targaryen siblings. The Great Hall of Winterfell was adorned with banners, and tables groaned under the weight of a sumptuous feast. Nobles from across the North had gathered to pay their respects to the Dragonriders.

You couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of emotions as you walked the familiar halls of Winterfell once more. The memories of your time here, both the joyful moments and the painful ones, flooded back to you. You had changed so much since then, and the scars of the past had faded but not entirely disappeared.

As you and Jace were introduced to the Northern lords and ladies, the atmosphere was one of jubilation and gratitude. The Starks were effusive in their praise, grateful for the Targaryens' aid in securing their victory.

You couldn't help but notice that Cregan was among those present, his gaze fixed on you. There was a tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the past and the wounds that still lingered. You had returned to Winterfell as a powerful figure, a dragon rider and an heir to the throne, but the history between you and Cregan remained.

The feast was a boisterous affair, with music and revelry filling the Great Hall. You watched as Cregan hovered about his wife almost constantly, his hand gentle on her protruding abdomen as he guided her about the room. 

As the feast at Winterfell continued, your shock deepened when you noticed a young boy running towards Cregan with gleeful abandon. The boy called out, "Father!" with pure excitement, and Cregan, with a warm smile, hoisted the child onto his shoulders. They paraded around the room, making their way through the nobles who cheered and greeted them.

You watched in disbelief as Cregan introduced the boy to the gathered lords and ladies, his paternal pride evident in every gesture. The sight of Cregan with the child sent a pang of bitterness and resentment through you. You knew that Cregan's marriage to Lady Alysanne had likely produced offspring, but seeing it firsthand was a painful reminder of what could never be between the two of you.

Finally, the little boy and Cregan reached you and Jace. The child's dark, pale freckled skin and dark curls were identical to Alysanne's, but it was his eyes that caught your attention. They were the very same stormy grey eyes that you had noticed on Cregan the first time you had met him.

Cregan introduced the boy with a proud smile. 

"This is my son, Rickon."

Cregan caught your eye and you caught a brief flash of regret pass through him before he schooled his expression into a pleasant grin. He turned back to his son, his face softening entirely as he gazed at him with adoration so tender that it speared right through your heart. 

I hate you, Cregen Stark. I hate you for finding happiness without me. I hate you for not fighting for me. I hate you for your stupid oaths and your stupid loyalties. I hate you. 

You were wise enough to keep your angry thoughts to yourself, but for the first time in your life, you found that you actually meant them. perhaps that made you a cruel and callous monster but you did not care. You hated Cregan Stark more than anything else and wondered, not for the first time, if you should have advised your mother against sending you to help out in the war. Still, you were your mother's daughter and if there was one person you loved with your entire heart, it was her. If helping the Starks win their war secured their support for your mother, then you would bury your heavy heart and do it for her. 

As the evening wore on, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the festivities. The bitter taste of jealousy and regret lingered in your mouth, a constant reminder of the life that could have been but was now forever out of reach. Whatever Cregan thought of Alysanne, it was clear that he loved their children and very soon there would be even more to cherish if Alysanne's laboured breaths and swollen belly said anything. You couldn't escape the feeling that you were a stranger in a place that had once held such significance in your life. The years had changed you, and Winterfell had changed as well. There was no longer any room for you and you couldn't wait to return home. 

A/N: reblog and comment please, it really motivates me and I love reading yalls thoughts <3

[assortedvillainvault]

Hello! Can I request Starscream with a reader who loves video games, especially older "retro" ones please?

Anon you have waited so long, please accept this humble word train of inconveivale proportions, becuase this went from 'haha Screamy vs tetris' to 'holy shit I can't stop typing-'

Starscream x RetroGamer!Reader

HA!

Such primitive, meagre entertainment. How can you engage in something barely even fit for newsparks??

Yeah, Starscream is waving his ‘technological-race superiority’ around again. You’ve long since learned to roll your eyes, tune him out and turn the tinny volume on your console to maximum just to annoy him.

For all that he snorts and rolls his optics and waxes lyrical about how his games were played in high-speed roulette 5D stratospheric-chess - or whatever - you don’t fail to smugly notice how his wings twitch in time with the music. (Don’t bring it up or he’ll screech about how he can’t get the bouncy little tunes out of his head at 3am. It’s not worth your eardrums.)

And when he DOES pay attention, he’s the kind to aggressively backseat drive.

What’s worse, is that after breathing down your neck and screeching at you to “Jump HIGHER-” (Mario Bros is a relationship tester), he’ll cluck his tongue and smarmily coo at your game over screen until you finally snap and shove the comparatively tiny controller in his face.

The affronted shock lasts a millisecond before he huffs and says such childish little things are beneath him. Obviously.

Your petty revenge is to chat obnoxiously loud to Knockout and spread a rumour on the Nemesis that the Mighty Commander Starscream is too outdated to try anything new, clearly, I mean he’s just so old-

- much screeching shouting and scratched paintjobs later, you find out that he’s simply downloaded the games into his brain and fully intended to not breathe a word to you about it apparently until you died. Prideful bastard.

He HAD intended to tell you, but only after he had gotten an impossibly high score to beat so he could rub it in your cute squishy face.

In a beautifully ironic twist of fate, being as advanced as cybertronians are, the highly simple nature of most retro games actually renders them incompatible, like trying to run a floppy disk through a hadron collider. So while yes Star can play tetris on his break, he cannot simply blitz the levels as expected and call it a day, because the old games have such simple parameters in comparison to how he usually operates.

So he has to actually play.

With no instructions because of course this high strung high maintenance metal bird could not possibly deign to ask you how to play first. That would be demeaning. And he won’t google it either.

You can sit in smug, satisfied peace as you watch him slowly tick through several layers of frustration: wings twitching, claws tapping, optics whizzing to focus on platforms and little 8 bit enemies you can’t see.

But Starscream is still the Second in Command of the Decepticons. And the Decepticons have very stringent security measures.

Soundwave fucking manifesting outside your window one evening was enough to have you pray to every god you’ve ever heard of. Inscrutable, all knowing fucking Soundwave. You regret every conversation you’ve ever had on the Nemesis, oh god your house is probably bugged-

His face screen flickers to life. You blink, as a live stream of the Nemesis command deck appears.

You have, by dint of hanging around too much and a few close encounters with the Autobots, seen cybertronians on the battlefield before. It is nothing compared to the later levels of Pacman on the Nemesis bridge at 1 am.

Soundwaves inscrutable smiley face emoji pings your phone, almong with a simple, translated glyph.

“More? :)”

PS-

Soundwave is Pacman god. Knockout has a soft spot for the Mario games. Starscream fucking loves Galaxian and will die before he ever tells you this. Shockwave, logically, finds Tetris soothing.

Megatron plays pong on his throne sometimes when his usual brooding gives way to inevitable drug induced boredom. It spaces his eyes out to either side nearly completely. Starscream has screenshots of his gormless mug taped to his hab wall to shoot on occasion.

[pinkykats-place]

Robb Stark x Reader

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Disclaimers!

Stories are NOT mine.

Some contain mature content.

Readers are mostly female.

Note: if you read and enjoy any of these stories - please like, leave a comment and/or reblog original post!

Bedtime story

(Child) Robb Stark x (Child)Reader x (Child) Jon Snow

Imagine being a child living in Winterfell with Robb and Jon, and falling asleep in Robb’s bed with him and Jon.

You’re Mine (female reader)

Warnings: Use of the word “Cunt”, smut, the usual shebang

you belong to me (female reader)

ANON REQUEST:  Robb Stark smut with a reader that is someone's bastard. She and Jon are not allowed in the feast so they're alone together outside, too close to each other. Robb wonders where is the reader, he comes to find her but get jealous. So Robb is going to show the reader who she belongs to. 

Couldn’t Wait (female reader)

Summary: Robb had been out all day, and you’ve been missing his touch. With what you thought was a few hours to go, you decided to take matters into your own hands…

Warnings: Language, smut, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex(wrap it, before you tap it)

United In Fear (Soulmate!AU)

Warnings: Angsty fluff, someone get’s punched but it’s not super dramatic

Summary: The names were the greatest mystery in Westeros. Each kingdom had their own telling of the story. None of the kingdoms could agree on where they were from or how they came to be. Each thought a different god, their own interpretation of religion, was responsible, but all seemed to agree on one thing: they were a gift.

Colors 

Notes: fluff, fem!Reader

Summary: Colors highlight significant points in your relationship with Robb

The Singer

Description: Robb hears you singing to the wounded men after a fierce battle and immediately falls for you.

[dianneking]

Weekly writing challenge - get back on the writing horse

Hi everyone! As you might have noticed, I have been a bit stuck lately (lately aka the past four months whoops) and up until now the little tricks I have tried to get me out of writer’s block have not been working properly – I have finished some wips, added words to existing stories but not in a consistent enough manner.

So, after an eye-opening convo with @scream-queenlover I have decided to give something else a try: a weekly writing time allotment, working with prompts and ideally producing a short one-shot, or a detailed scene during the allotted time.

I am sharing this with you for two main reasons: accountability and, well, if you have a scene or prompt you want me to try writing, now’s your chance. I make no promises but I will be trying my best!

Anyone who wants to join in is more than welcome! Be sure to tag me in your works so I can cheer you on!

Fandoms I feel up for writing in:

anything Gwendoline Christie (Larissa, Brienne, Miranda...all of them)

Abbott Elementary

OUAT? Maybe?

I can be persuaded to go back to write some One Piece fics

Anything that strikes my fancy at the moment so I mean you can try and shoot your shot XD

PS: I will be updating this post with all the links to the post I’ll be writing during this challenge, so it can function as a sort of side-masterlist.

Week 1: Happy Birthday, Blondie! - Larissa/Melissa (Wednesday/Abbott Elementary Crossover)

Week 2: On The Seashore - Brienne x Reader (Game of Thrones)

Week 3: no posted fic, but I did write (working on a longer one for next week)

Week 4: The Affair - Chapter 1 - Larissa x Reader

Week 5: no writing at all was done - better luck next week

[apaelfwine]

Got an idea for an author's original universe? Write a fanfic. Share it with your friends. Share it with the whole wide Internet.

For the sake of all decency and little puppies besides, do not share it with the author.

This sort of thing is one reason why a lot of authors used to be so bitterly opposed to fanfic.

PS: Every writer I've the slightest acquaintance with has got more ideas than they know what to do with. Even if your shiny new idea is for somebody else's fanfic, you're better off writing it up yourself* than pushing it on somebody who hasn't asked for it and might well not particularly want it.**

*And perhaps you're saying "What, me? I'm not a writer!" But if you've got an idea, you're on the slippery slope to being a writer in any case. Why not give it a lash? What harm would it do you? **I know you don't mean it that way, well-meaning stranger with an idea, but that's what it often feels like when a reader starts telling you what they think should happen in your WIP. Or, worse yet, saying you should write some completely different story.*** ***Just to be clear, saying you'd like to hear more about something that's already in the story you're commenting on (the likes of "I'd love to read how character x and character y got together" or "Any chance you might write about [character]'s ancestors and how they founded the kingdom?" or "The Martial Magics Mistress is awesome, and I'm desperately curious about her backstory, if you'd care to tell us sometime.") is just grand. I'm talking about comments like: "Needs more sex" (especially when the characters are twelve-year-olds who just had their first kiss); "Harry should be a billionaire with a personal staff of hot Finnish ninja girls who invite Hermione to join them in the sauna"; "Make this a Game of Thrones crossover"; "I think you should write my challenge instead of this S#!7."

Had an idea you might be able to use for something: Klingon Soap Operas.

(sigh)

Thanks for the thought. I appreciate your kindness!

But unfortunately, because you've sent me the idea and I've read it, I can now not use it, ever. No matter how much I might like to.

This isn't about you, you understand. And in its way it probably seems like a cruel paradox. You were only trying to be helpful! But if I was working on something for Trek and this concept came up even in casual discussion, I would be honor-bound (and contractually required) to inform them that the idea had come to me from a reader or fan. And then—rightly, from their point of view—they would forbid me to use it, because the idea's originator might some day, despite all their friendly intentions now, sue them over it. And the evidence that I was at fault would be easy to obtain. Sending a DM on any major platform generates an electronic "paper trail" that will confirm its target has opened and read the message in question. And that electronic record can be subpoenaed and submitted as evidence, and would stand up in court.

"Oh, come on, who'd do a thing like that, what are the odds...?" people will say. But it's not generally known that I've already been involved in a high-stakes lawsuit in which someone tried to sue Mattel over material I wrote when developing the initial form of the "Barbie: Fairytopia" universe (and the first Fairytopia film) for them. I'd never so much as met or communicated with the person suing them, had never read even a word of their work... but they still went to great trouble and expense attempting to prove that I'd had access to their material and used it without permission.

Mattel won the suit (as I'd frankly been expecting: the attorney handling their defense was one of the most expert IP lawyers in the US). But it gave me the chills... and made it clear how very wrong things could go, and the kind of damage that could be done to my career and my personal life, if I even accidentally used ideas from unauthorized sources.

Seriously, folks. I know you all mean well! But please don't make me tap the sign. DO NOT SEND ME STORY IDEAS, no matter how vague or general or unformed they may be. To do so is to absolutely guarantee that they will never, ever happen.* (And in my own universes, your innocently-meant suggestion could mean that neither you or anyone else will ever see that particular Young Wizards or Middle Kingdoms plot, no matter how much you'd like to... because I take this stuff seriously.)

...Thanks, all.

*This is also why I don't read fanfic set in my universes. Which you also shouldn't send me: please and thank you.

[ladywinterwitch]

Game Of Thrones (headcanon) - How you met

Game of thrones male characters x female reader

INCLUDES: Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Jon Snow, Robb Stark, Oberyn Martell.

Okay, my first GOT work! Yay! This is mainly a headcanon post about how you met these specific men of Westeros that kinda turned into very small one shots (maybe prompts for more idk?). Anyways, enjoy and let me know your thoughts if you feel like it, I'd very much appreciate it! 

*PS: All of the prospectives will be from women as it's what I'm comfortable writing, as well as the men chosen, which are just the ones that I feel comfortable writing for. For example, you'll NEVER see me writing for characters like Joffrey or Ramsay. Might add Gendry Waters and Theon Grayjoy in the future but I don't promise anything.

Warnings: Language, use of the word whore, mentions and implications of sex, probably mentions of violence, nothing explicit though.

*y/h stands for your house.

Link to my main masterlist

ROBB STARK 

You are the middle daughter of a small lord from the very south of the Riverlands, almost across the Westerlands 'territory, Lannister territory. His mother knew your family well, since they were sworn to his father lord Hoster Tully. The first time you saw each other, you couldn't have possibly remembered it, since you both were just newborns. It was just after the end of Robert's rebellion, when Robb's grandfather organized a feast to bid farewell to his daughter who would've left Riverrun for the North to join her new husband, lord Eddard. Your lady mother had given birth just a couple of weeks after lady Catelyn did, and when they met that day, blessings were exchanged but no one would've thought that you'd ever meet again. The reason that brought you to Winterfell was as simple as the lady of Winterfell needing new handmaids. Catelyn had specifically requested for her maids to come from the Riverlands, both as a sign of appreciation towards her native land, as well as possibilities for the young ladies to make connections with some of the great houses of the North. 

So that's how it happened, on one of the coldest days you could have there up in Winterfell, snow falling delicately on the grounds and walls of the great castle. You being accostumed to a not extremely hot, but warm enough and quite humid weather, were definetly suffering from the freezing air of the North, so needless to say that the sight of the castle gates were an enormous relief. You and another four girls, all older than you of more or less years, dismounted from your horses with the help of the soldiers from the Riverlands that accompanied you on your jurney. Lord Blackwood, head of house Blackwood, was chosen by lord Hoster Tully as your official chaperon, therefore that's he who made the introductions to the Stark family. 

"My lord, my lady." he nodded his head respectfully with a pleasing smile, face and nose bright pink for the cold, "It is a joy to bring you regards from your father, my lady." 

The lady smiled politely and glanced quickly at her husband, the slightest humor in her words. "My lord, I am also very pleased to see you after all these years, and I'm sure you'll have much to recount me," she looked over at the shivering girls just a few steps behind him. "But perhaps you'll like to warm up first."

That being said, the four of you, lord Blackwood and the other ten soldiers who came with you were escorted in the great hall, finally away from the snow and instantly welcomed by a nice warmth. You sighed of relief lightly, still keeping your composure. Especially since as soon as you stepped into the room you were met with multiple pairs of eyes scrutinizing you. These eyes belonged to some people of the castle, as well as minor lords and ladies, and finally, to the Stark heirs themselves. From the oldest to the youngest they were lined up at the very top of the great hall, soon joined by their parents who stood next to them as they carefully observed how they behaved with the new guests. 

"Lord Blackwood,my ladies, I introduce to you my sons and daughters. But I'll leave the pleasure to welcome you officially to Winterfell to my eldest son and heir. C'mon son." Lord Eddard spoke with warmth as he hinted at his son to step on with his arm. The tallest of the kids, as well as the oldest, walked in front of them, and nodded in acknowledgment to each, asking for their names. Except lord Tytos Blackwood, of course. Each of the girls curstied, introducing themselves. Then came you. 

"Lady y/n of house y/h, my lord." you looked up as you stood straight and immediately met the young man's blue eyes. He looked back at you with a polite smile, and nodded sligthtly. 

"Welcome to Winterfell lady y/n." he said, and just before walking back next to his parents, his lopsided smile turned into a very small smirk, and as he leaned his head just barely towards you, he goes "Don't worry, you'll get warmed up fast in here." Your mouth gaped imperceptibly as you blushed. He shut his own mouth to hide the smile and moved his gaze to his parents. You missed the curious look his mother gave him. 

JON SNOW

The first time you met Jon Snow was in a small tavern, just a few hours of ride away south of the Wall. Benjen Stark, Tyrion Lannister as well as a few other men that were headed to the Wall, had encountered such bad and freezing weather that they had to take shelter, at least for that night. Let alone the wild animals wandering in the night. The Wall is actually in need of these men, Benjen thought. Also, for how much he did dislike the Lannister lord that had joined them from the King's visit in Winterfell, he still had to remember that he was a nobleman. If he had to be honest, he had endured the trip way better than he expected him to. Deep down he also wanted to give a little of a break to his bastard nephew, Jon Snow. He might not be a legitimate son of his brtother's, but at the end of the day he still lived more like a noble than a commoner. Jon was secretly glad of it, too.

 A couple of men from the tavern came out to help them to secure the horses into the stable, and then lead them inside the tavern, which was  definetly...warm. If it was because of the fireplace, or the drunk men making noise, Jon wasn't sure. Either way he didn't care, he just looked forward to sleeping on a bed for a night. His uncle already arranged the payment for four rooms; one for the criminal scum which were four men, one for the Lannister and his two guards, another one for two brothers of the night's watch, and the last one for himself and Jon. He reckoned that half of them would just spend the night drinking anyways. 

Jon huffed and stroked his hands together in the attempt to warm up faster while he eyed an empty table at the end of the tavern. He walked there, in between drunk men and just enough women on their laps that didn't try to hide what their purpose was, and sat down on the wooden chair. He rested his eyes for a few minutes, just trying to cancel out the noise and enjoy the close by fireplace. 

"My lord, can I bring you some ale?" a female voice, which in comparison to the rough and vulgar men that he traveled with for the past weeks sounded like a miracle, interrupted his alone moment, forcing him to open his eyes suddenly. And that's when he saw you. He was speechlees for a moment, taken aback by how pretty you were: your modest and not cleanest clothes surprisingly complimented your figure, your cheeks flushed with the heath of the ambient, hair messily wrapped at the back of your head to allow you to work better. He wasn't used to new faces in Winterfell, and especially not female ones. 

Many soldiers, farmers, commoners and lords showed up just enough to do their business with the castle lord and lady and just left. And well, after that rough trip with criminals and ugly men, just seeing a woman, and such a pretty one at that, was just a sight to behold. 

You raised an eyebrow, tightening slightly the grip on your wooden tray, suddenly nervous. Being the daughter of the tavern's owner and a commoner, you had to learn the hard way to not trust men sometimes. Therefore his silence made you nervous, even though you wouldn't have missed the chance to smack him with your tray if he became inappropriate. Most of the men in there were regulars, and learned to just enjoy their whores without bothering you, which ironically made them sort of your personal bodyguards. 

"My lord..?" you tried again, and this time he cleared his throat and nodded, not saying anything. You narrowed your eyes slightly, understanding that this was just a young awkward man and not a creepy one, hopefully. Before you turned to go fetch the ale, he said something, almost too softly to be heard amid the noise. 

"I'm not a lord." you stopped in your tracks, turned you head to him and smirked in amusement, "You still want that ale though don't you?" he raised both his eyebrows in surprise at your attitude and smiled. 

"I- I, uh, yes. Thank you my lady." he stuttered. This time you chuckled, "I'm no lady either." he smiled in embarassment and just responded "Right." You walked away and he would've beat himself up for being such a boy if he wasn't too distracted to watch you walk away from him. 

"Oof, you sure you want to miss out on that for the rest of your life, bastard?" he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard someone speaking to him. Or better, that he was caught. He looked to the side and saw Tyrion Lannister with a smug face, struggling just a bit to sit in the chair next to him.  

OBERYN MARTELL

Yours and Oberyn's first meeting was everything except special. You were just another lady of a minor house from the Reach, following your higher born lady as she and her lord husband came to Dorne for affairs. What was different though, is that you weren't as young as the usual and definetly not as innocent or modest. He obviously wasn't there when the official welcome to Dorne was made, his brother lord Doran was. He was too busy sleeping late after yet another wild night with whores and exceptional wine. You did catch his eyes on the same evening dinner though. Your dornish dress just a bit too low on your chest, and your attitude just a bit too charming in comparison to other ladies. You weren't seated at the main table like he was, but you were close enough for him to know that you must've had some sort of importance. 

Your table was actually the same one as his well known mistress, Ellaria Sand. A real scandal for a prince of Dorne to be associated so bluntly with a bastard mistress, let alone having bastard daughters together. But he just didn't care. And certainly he wasn't gonna start caring about other people's opinions that same night. His gaze wasn't supposed to be on you, but on Ellaria. And yet he got distracted, and quite taken by you. Everything about the way you carried yourself intrigued him, mostly because he wasn't used to seeing that kind of behaviour from someone who wasn't dornish. It's like you fit right in. Maybe you were from the south, he thought.

While lost in thought, he didn't move his eyes from you, and after a while, you did notice. Without a trace of nervousness or embarassment, you looked back at him. A small lopsided smile playing on your lips, head just slightly tilted to the side. Oberyn, pleasently surprised, mirrored your smirk and raised his cup just enough for you to notice. You nodded back in acknowledgement and then moved your attention. The prince did the same after a few seconds, not noticing the unhappy glance that his mistress gave him, clearly seeing that his attention got caught somewhere else. She wasn't usually jealous. She didn't have reason to be. Oberyn might've well fucked half of the men and women of Dorne, but they were all mostly one time things, or whores. Never another lord or lady. She trusted the affection that he had for her, but she didn't trust his cock driven mind as much unfortunately.  

After the first courses were served, people started to dance and get out of their seats to converse. Oberyn decided that he needed to know more about this lady, so he stood up, but was soon stopped by his brother gripping his sleeve.

"Where are you going?" he murmured, looking up from his wheelchair. The dornish prince scoffed, freeing himself. "Where I usually go. To have fun." with that he walked away from the table, and nonchalantly joined the dance with a random lady, giving her a quick charming smile. He was focused on scanning the room to find another lady, though. He danced for a few minutes, and finally he saw you. You were standing near an older man who was speaking to you, clearly looking at your bosom and not your face. But you didn't seem to care, nor listen. Oberyn smiled to himself and swiftly exited the dances, confidently making his way to you. Posture straight, arms behind his back, relaxed. 

"My prince." the old man interrupted himself to awkwardly bow to him. Oberyn raised a hand, dismissing him. "No need. I'd like to have a word with this lady." he said calmly, not taking his eyes away from yours. The man nodded silently, annoyed at the interruption and walked away. 

"Prince Oberyn." you finally spoke. As he imagined, your voice dripped with confidence and femininity. He took your hand to his lips, not actually touching them. 

"Enchanted. Lady..?" you smiled politely, answering with your name. "Which house are you from, lady y/n?" you shook your head.

"A small house from the Reach who isn't worth mentioning, trust me. I have more value as my lady's handmaid and friend than anything." you responded, without actually any sentiment except maybe some irony. The man nodded, looking you up and down. 

"So you're not married I assume."  and it was in fact a statement more than a question, but you decided to answer regardless. "You would be correct my lord. And to be honest I do not have any wish to take husband. Unless forced to, of course." your glimpse of a smirk was just pure irony. 

"Why would a minor house lady not want a husband to secure her a good life?" he retorted, genuinely intrigued. 

"My lord, life is so short. And I am a third daughter of five, of which the first is a man. I do not have notable connections, dowery, nor the wish to have a wealthier life than I already have. I'd rather enjoy the freedom that my position allowes me." the prince was satisfied with her words and definetly shared her mindset, even though he was actually a far more important person than she was socially speaking. But that's what you said right? You wanted to have fun. So he decided to offer you just that. 

JAIME LANNISTER

Meeting you actually changed Jaime's life, for the better. You didn't meet on any event, or special occasion, it just happened. He was bored, hot and would've rathered to do anything at all except what he was supposed to do. Which was his round of guarding in the garden of the Red Keep on a boring humid and terribly hot day. His heavy armour was not helping, nor his long hair for that matter. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Same lords meeting in the same corners to either conspire or make deals, usually to pay some debts. Same noble women sitting on the patio, drinking fresh lemonade and gossipping. Same servants walking around, and so on. Everything terribly dull and ordinary. 

At that specific point in his life, Jaime Lannister didn't think he could get more bored. Even fucking Cersei was becoming a little old at that point. Not to mention, her being always so bitter and complaining about her husband didn't please the kingslayer either. 

At one point, as he turned a corner of the garden, he saw a lonely young woman, definetly highborn, he could tell by her fine dress. You were looking around, holding the back of your hand to your forehead in an attempt to soothe yourself from the heath, it seemed. You actually looked quite lost, out of place. Jaime, not having anything better to do, approached you. 

"My lady, are you feeling alright?" you turned quickly, a bit startled, but tried to play it off. 

"Yes, quite, ser. I am not used to this type of heat I'm afraid." you smiled sweetly, squinting your eyes slightly, bothered by the strong light. Jaime smiled softly, feeling a bit sorry. You seemed way too sweet, he felt bad being his rude self for once. So he decided to make conversation, who knows, maybe he could have a little fun.

"I can see that. Are you not from here, lady..?" 

"Y/n. Of house Y/h. I am from the Vale, ser." he shook his head slightly. He offered his arm to her. You looked at him uncertainly.

"Please, my lady. I would hate to see you melt in this horrible sun." you chuckled, a little embarssed but amused, and placed your arm under his bulky one. You started to walk back towards the Red Keep.

"I am afraid that I do not know your house, my lady. Is your family connected to court?" he asked politely. Your faced darkened, just slightly, but Jaime noticed. He didn't speak.

"No, ser. Not exactly. You see, mine is a small house. I am here as...a guest. Of lord Belmore." you didn't look at him as you spoke. He did know house Belmore, but he couldn't imagine of why they would have business in King's Landing, and honestly he didn't care. He was more curious as to why you seemed to speak of it like it brought you grief. He didn't think before speaking and blurted out a "Guest?"

You shifted uncomfortably next to him, licking your lips nervously. "Yes." At that point Jaime put two and two together and wanted to slap himself for being so unlikely naive for his standards. If she wasn't a highborn of a major house, nor she was lord Belmore's wife, but just a guest, what she truly meant was mistress. Whether she was happy about it, he wasn't that sure. Silence fell between them for a while. 

"Thank you, for helping me. I was in fact lost, but didn't bother to admit it." she smiled timidly for a moment. Jaime smiled also, looking down, trying to stop himself from teasing her by saying 'You didn't have to admit anything' because she was just so transparent, and just settled with "Anytime, my lady."

After that, the silence fell again but this time it was actually peaceful. The kingslayer furtively glanced at the woman next to him, taking in her details. The blush on her cheeks, the slightly curled baby hair at the sides of her face from the humidity, the delicate layer of sweat on her neck, the way the corset underneath her dress pushed up her bosom, her relaxed lips. She's actually beautiful, he thought, and undestood why a man would choose someone like her to bring to the royal court.

When they reached the entrance of the castle, he delicately separated from her, and bowed his head in curtesy. "Do you need further help, my lady?" you shook your head with a sweet smile.

"No, you're too kind. You've been of great help. Thank you, ser?" his face fell for a split second, almost as if he'd forgot who he was for a second, and didn't really mind it. 

"Jaime Lannister, at your service." your eyes widened but you quickly got a hold on yourself, bowing slightly to him. "Ser Jaime, I'm mortified." he frowned.

"Why would you be mortified my lady?" you stuttered a bit, "W-well, you're the brother of the queen, and I wasted your time with mere stupidity on my part. I apologize." he was so confused as to why you seemed so nervous and genuinely sorry. He took your hand and brought it to his lips for a second, making you look up. 

"I am a King's guard. My job is to help. Whatever the problem is, my lady. You actually gave me a bit of distraction in this boring day, truly, do not apologize to me." he reassured you, his eyebrows in a comforting frown. That made you feel better, and decided that it was enough embarassment for one day, so you curtsied again and started to walk away.

"I hope to see you soon, lady y/n." you froze for a second at his words, and then kept on walking away. 

TYRION LANNISTER

Tyrion managed to sneak out from some highborn lord's wedding in King's Landing to treat himself to a good lay. He actually got Bronn to go with him, since you could never be safe enough around his sister. Not even in brothels an hour away from the Keep. It was a recent one he found, not too busy, quite hidden. He could tell he wasn't the only lord to go there, as well as not the only one who wanted some privacy. And best thing, the owner was a woman. Sure, he was smart enough to see behind her facade of fake politeness, but he knew that with his money she would've kept her mouth shut if asked.

That night Tyrion was just exhausted. His hundredth argument with his father put him in a bad mood, and all he wanted was to get drunk and maybe some attention. He gave Bronn some money, enough for both of them, because there was no way that that man would've just sat as a guard dog in a brothel. "One at a time, you bastard." he remarked, making the mercenary snort a laugh. 

He got into one of the nice rooms, and took off his cape, boots, and vest, leaving him in just his shirt and breeches. He poured himself some wine as he watched outside the small window. The air in King's Landing was often suffocating by day, but the warm breeze of the night was rather enjoyable. He turned his head slightly, but not all the way, at the sound of the door closing in the room. "Good evening dear, how are you-" he turned and trailed off as he noticed that the girl standing near the door wasn't the usual one that was sent to him. 

"My lord." she said, not moving an inch. Tyrion looked at her: she was beautiful. Young, but not too young. But something about her exuded sadness. She looked tired. Tyrion got instantly turned off, more in a 'It's one of those miserable nights for everyone' type of thing than a 'Shit, I don't wan't to fuck a sad girl' one. He sighed to himself and walked to sit on the bed, comfortable with his cup of wine. He waved his hand as to invite her next to him. You reluctantly walked towards the bed like an execution, and started to undo your corset's laces. 

Tyrion rolled his eyes and stopped you "I meant sit, not undress. You clearly aren't in the mood anyway, so might as well have a chat." you frowned, dropping your arms to your sides.

"You won't pay me to talk." Tyrion shrugged, pursing his lips, just a little tipsy. "I mean, I already paid, so there's that. Now, sit." 

You slipped back on your robe, wrapping it tightly around your bust, covering the half exposed breasts, and sat on the opposite side of the bed, still not comfortable. The Lannister narrowed his gaze, observing you. 

"You're not a whore." it was more of a statement than a question. "Not by choice." you murmured, correcting him. He chewed the inside of his cheek, in silence. Then he moved, planning on getting his refill of wine, but his sudden movement made you flinch. He stopped for a second, "I am just getting up to get some more wine." he explained. You side glanced him but didn't respond, just slightly relaxed, and he took that as a sign to resume his actions. This time, when he was standing, he didn't go back to the bed, instead leaning against the wall, just next to the window. 

"Whatever happened, I'm sorry." his tone was genuine. He just left it at that, he didn't imply nor necessarily asked for more information. Your lips quivered for a split second, then taking a deep breath. 

"My lord what can I do for you?" you said, sadness and tiredness in your voice. Tyrion decided to dodge the question by simply doing what he does best, which is talking. 

"You know, I've got a pretty shitty day too. If that makes you feel better." he smirked, taking a sip of his wine. You didn't respond, but neither told him to shut up so he took it as a good sign. 

"I mean, look at me. I'm a dwarf. A a noble one at that. Pretty sure that if I wasn't I wouldn't be alive right now, which is definetly something that my father would love. Probably gets off it, that sick bastard." your mouth was agape, shocked both by his own self deprecating demeanor as well as the harsh words towards the man that's supposed to be his father. Tyrion looked at you and laughed.

"Oh c'mon, don't look at me like that. With that sad face that you have and the job that you do, I'm sure that you've had your fair share of men to call bastard too, am I wrong?" your face softened and the smallest smirk lingered on your lips. 

"Ah, see? I'm right. I'm often right, actually." he glanced at the door and then back at you. "My personal guard, another cunt by the way, should be done in about an hour, I reckon. He's working with some of your..colleagues." he raised his eyebrows ironically. 

"I'm sorry." you said, surprisingly with some sincerity. Tyrion shook his head, sighed, and clicked his tongue. "Nah. It's not like I don't come to brothels multiple times a week. My cock probably needed a break anyway. I can't fuck my way out of everything, unfortunately." his bluntness made you burst out laughing. You recomposed yourself pretty quickly, still being weary of getting too comfortable. You thought for a minute, and then just got up, slipping right out of your robe. 

"You know what, funny lord? Fuck it. We both need it anyway." Tyrion huffed out a faint laugh and started to take off his shirt. 

This is is for this post!

[sweetandsourfics]

Show Stopper

Eddie Munson x Theatre Kid Reader | SFW | 1 of ?

Summary: The Freak and a Theatre kid. Who knew that Eddie would find his Princess behind some poorly constructed props?

Warnings: Explicit language, fluff, Eddie being a sweetie as usual.

Author's Notes: This is part one of 2 (maybe more, idk) of Eddie and his little Theater kid lover. Yes, you heard me! Lover. Feedback would be very much appreciated. I love hearing everyone's thoughts and opinions. PS. Eddie would 1000% call you his princess.

The Hellfire Club conducts their sessions in the auditorium hidden amongst the props.

Often they are entering just as you and the other theatre nerds are leaving.

Polite smiles and shy waves are exchanged between you and the Hellfire members.

Tonight was a night where the Hellfire members crawled into the shadows and tested their warriors. Unknown to the members, a lowly drama club member stays behind from her pack.

With the school's production of 'The Snow Queen.' Only a month away. You had volunteered to stay behind and try and finish painting the Ice Queen's castle with a few others. Who all left an hour ago.

The Hellfire Club chattered away. Their voices bouncing off the high ceilings. Hearing them made you feel less lonely as you painted another layer of blue onto the plie wood.

That was until they went silent. It was eerie how quiet they all went. You swear you could hear a pin drop.

The silence was cut down by Eddie's booming voice. He narrated passionately of where the players last left their campaign.

Eddie's voice pulled you into the scene. It didn't matter that you have joined the story many hours deep.

The stoke of your paint brush began to slow. No longer dipping from water, to paint to board.

You winced has players were injured and cheered to yourself as a few Nat 20s were rolled. You'll have to ask what it means but you have picked up from their victorious cries that it was a good thing.

You got so lost in Eddie's words that you didn't realses time slipping you by. It wasn't until Eddie announced that they should stop for the night you looked at your watch.

10:08 pm

Shit. You curse under your breath. Collecting brushes. In your haist you didn't see the tin of Fresh Ice Blue.

With a deafening clang the tin tumbles spilling it's contents painting your sneaker and the stage floor.

"Shit! Fuck! Shit!" You string out a line of curses discarding the brushes to quickly stop the spill from pooling.

You didn't hear Eddie leave the Hellfire's sanctrume until his voice comes comes from behind you. "You okay?"

"Yes-no." You panic, "I've knocked over some paint."

Eddie pears around you, cringing at the splattered paint.

Without being asked Eddie peels off some pages from a pile of news papers and starts to clean the mess.

With Eddie's help you manged to sort of clean the paint from the wooden stage.

"It's...not bad?" Eddie winces through his teeth.

Rubbing your eyes, you let out a defeated sigh. "It's questionable."

"Very questionable but I didn't see anything. I was the only one here." He says moving dramatically. "No theatre nerds in sight."

You couldn't help but smile. He always manged to put a smile on your lips. Even if he or you didn't realise it.

Tossing the balled up paper in the bin you look up at the leader of the Hellfire club. "Thank you- for the help."

Eddie flashes you a toothy grin. "It was not a problem."

A silence falls between the two of you. It wasn't awkward but it was heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Eddie clears his throat, kicking his scuff shoe against the stage. "I've got a game to pack up so, I better get started with that."

"I'll help. You helped me with my mess it's the least I can do."

You follow Eddie as he disappears behind the false brick wall. Moving through the maze of probs he leads you to his throne.

You're jaw drops as you see the remance of the Hellfire's game.

"This is some set up."

"Nah, it's not that impressive."

"Yes! Very King Eddie and his knights of the....rectangle table."

He laughs proudly, flopping onto his throne. "A king? The princess of the drama club has growend me king!"

You play along with his dramatics, "and may I say your majesty you can spin a good tale."

"You heard?"

Shyly you pick at the miniatures. "I didn't mean too." You gesture to the ceiling, "acoustics."

"Blame it on the acoustics." He teases.

You can feel your cheeks grow warm with a blush. You hope Eddie doesn't notice.

Once the Hellfire's mess has been tidy the two of you leave side by side. The night's air nips at your skin.

"Do you need a lift?" Eddie asks.

You try to sputter out a polite decline. You don't want to be an inconvenience but he swoops in with his kind words before you find your voice.

"I wouldn't rest not knowing if the princess has or hasn't made it to her castel."

You stutter out. "I would really appreciate it if you could."

"Then follow me, princess."

Again with pet name. If any other boy called you Princess you would have destroyed them verbally but when Eddie says it. It sends the butterflies in your stomach wild.

"That's my ride." Eddie gestures towards a beaten van. "I know that it isn't the type of steed that is worthy of a Princess but-"

"A trusty steed is better then a shiny one."

Eddie's van spuuters to life. The head lights eating the shadows and a drum solo shaking the quietness.

You look down at your shoes faking interest in the new paint splatters. Squeezing your fingers, you scold yourself for being so awkward.

You can sing and dance in front of hundreds of people with unbreakable confidence, yet an audience of one Eddie Munson has your confidence eating itself.

You are grateful for Eddie's music as it makes the silence less tense, and Eddie's fun facts about the song or band does force you to squeak out a few words.

Eddie turns down the radio as he pulls into your driveway.

"Thank you again, Eddie." You like the way his name feels on your tongue.

He smiles softly. Those dark eyes observing you. "It was my pleasure. "Til next time, Princess."

Climbing out of his van, you wave goodbye as you close the door. You took two steps before the glow of the headlights started to recede. Spinning on your heel, "Eddie!"

You shouting his name forces him to slam on the break. Eddie pokes his head out of the driver's window, "what?"

"Come to the play, yeah?" You squeeze the strap of your backpack.

"I'd love to!" A smile breaks out on his face.

You can't see them, but you know his dimples are on display.

[happypopcornprincess]

The Hating Game

Pictures 1, 3, and 4 are from interest, and picture 2 is from @parkjammys

Pairings - Joaquín Torres x Aviator!Reader (Enemies To Lovers)

Premise – The infamous rivalry between you and Joaquin Torres is well known on the base. He hates you and you hate him. After unlikely circumstances, you realize hating someone is disturbingly similar to falling in love with them

Warnings: Major Spoilers for The Hating Game Novel. (btw read the book it is too good <3) Strong language, suggestive language.

Note: I wrote this fic a long time before watching Top Gun: Maverick and I tried my best to make it as accurate as possible but I still apologize for any mistakes :) Torres's personality in this fic will be a mix of his series one and Joshua Templeman's from The Hating Game book.

Credits to Sally Throne for the original story of The Hating Game that inspired this fic. Some scenes will be exclusively from the novel, others I will spin my way. I do not own anything, this is my interpretation of the novel with MCU characters.

PS. it was requested anonymously a long time ago sorry it took so long for me to post this :')

Series Masterlist || My Main Masterlist || Send your requests here!

You tear the page and crumple it, throwing it on the floor in frustration.

This was not what you were expecting when you took the very debated decision to get a degree in Biology while on active duty. You had a time schedule for everything. But biology in high school was very different from advanced biology. There were topics you were unaware of that you had to study in a short period of time. You were now in a pothole of mounting deadlines and on-field duties as a lieutenant at the base. It was torture.

And your sworn enemy was not making it any easier.

Lt. Joaquin Torres was the highlight of the base. His practice rounds were impressive, his scores were excellent, and the people under his command were excellent. Oh, and he was also an Avenger. He was enrolled in the same course as you. They would all brag about how he completed all the assignments while performing all his duties.

When you first arrived on base, you were friendly with everyone, especially with officers under your rank. Your first encounter with him was when you were off duty, so you smiled and even offered a handshake, since you were both of the same rank. But he just stared at you and walked away.

This was in stark contrast to him, who was feared by everyone under him. Nothing escaped his notice; he was like a hawk. Including you.

The two of you were the most notorious rivals on the base. You don’t remember how it started. Maybe it was because he didn’t return your smile, or chose to ignore your existence even though your desks were beside each other. As if it were second nature, a subconscious comparison. There was competition in everything you did. Be it your duties as lieutenants, or sports, or academic valedictions, you were on each other’s throats. If someone saw you two together, they would run, not wanting to be caught in crossfire.

You got an earful from Captain Bexley from time to time. However, given the fact you two were top officers at the base, he couldn’t do anything more than scream at the two of you and give you extra hours. How either one of you was not deployed to a different base was beyond your understanding.

“Sup Y/N!” he rolls to your work desk on a rolling chair. You resist your urge to roll your eyes at him, to not stroke his ego for successfully disturbing you.

Your offices were in the same room, two desks alongside each other.

“I am studying. Unlike you, Torres” you say without looking at him. You continued to work as he glanced around your desk. It was a well-organized space, but far from his. His desk looked the same as it did a year ago, with no personal photos, or colorful things. Just a mosaic of very official, dark pastels.

You hear the crinkling sound of paper and a long sigh coming from him. “Haemodialysis. Interesting.” Your eyes grow wide as you look at him. “Stop digging through my stuff smartass.” You try to pry the piece of paper from him but he just rolls away.

   “You know it’s not that complicated. I thought you were good at this, given the fact you’re a major nerd.”

   “Well, I am trying my best.”

He gives you a smirk. “Yeah, okay” and gets back to work.

Asshole

   “Can you be considerate for once in your entire life?” you ask him.

   “No” he deadpanned.

He starts clicking his pen. You might be hallucinating it was Morse code, but this was Joaquin. He has taken lengths to make your life miserable, and right now, he was spelling "hot damn" in morse code. With his click pen.

   “Stop it”

  “What?”

   “Stop… spelling stuff in morse code with your pen”

   “I’m just clicking my pen” he looks at you with his adorable puppy eyes. It would work on any other woman, not you.

   “Someday I’m actually going to haul something at you.”

   “And that day would be the happiest day of my life because you’ll be suspended” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. 

You return the same and try to go back to your work.

----/----/----

   “Hello, my munchkin! How are you?" your mother’s cheery voice could be heard all over your empty apartment. Even after two years, the place is just as empty as when you first arrived. A bed, a sofa, some chairs, and a shit ton of books scattered all around the studio apartment. You plop down on the sofa holding your take-out dinner and balance your phone on the armrest.

   “I am doing very well, how’s pop?” You ask stuffing food inside your mouth. Unlike others, you never grew out of calling your parents mummy and pops.

   “Pops just came back from the farm. Harvest is looking good this year, we got forty new people to visit. After your placard idea, there have been a lot of visitors here.” Her knowing smile graced your screen.

You grew up in a small town, on an orange farm. It was your life. When you left for the Air Force, you requested everyone in your small town to take care of your parents, and their farm. They saw you grow into a capable young woman, and after you left, you sent many placard ideas requesting the local shops to have on display. And every time a passing visitor stopped there, they were convinced the orange farm was worth a visit. And it was. A stroll through your orange grove under blue skies, with the smell of ripe oranges aglow in the air, could soothe any troubled mind.

   “I miss you.” You say as you remember yourself running through them as a child, hiding from your parents and playing hide and seek.

   “Aww baby,” your mother’s eyes glossed over, “I miss you too. Everyone in town does.” You felt like crying. Nostalgia got the upper hand over you today. Your pops appeared on the screen before you both started crying.

   “Y/N!!!” he shouted through. His shirt still had dirt on it but he had a wide grin on his face. "How is my favorite lieutenant?”

   “Pops!” you screamed with the same excitement, “I’m doing just fine, how are you?”

   “I’m fine, I’m fine. I heard your mummy making you cry and I came to the rescue.” You laughed as your mother poked him with her finger and he kissed her forehead. 25 years and they were still in love as they were in their teens.

   “So, is that Torres guy still bothering you? Do I have to roll up to your base with my tractor to intimidate him?”

You rolled your eyes at his mention. You’ve told your parents about him, how every day is a death match between you both for survival.

   “Nah, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You shrugged.

   “What did he do today?”

   “Tried to teach me how to study, I shut him up.” You said, not mentioning the fact you were, indeed, in dire need of help. And too proud to admit.

   “That’s my girl!” Pops shouted through the phone. Your mummy flinched and looked at him, “You don’t have to shout every time, she can hear you perfectly.” Your pop gave her a look, but she continued unbothered.

   “You know from the way I see it; He might be into you.” Your mom smirked. You almost choked on your food as you heard it.

   “Torres? Joaquin Torres? Never in a million years.”

   “What? He could.”

   “The only thing Joaquin feels for me is pure hatred and repulsion. So do I”

   “Do you?” You were surely taken aback by the question. Why was your mother asking you this?

   “What?” you sit straighter on the couch.

   "Of all your colleagues, you talk about him the most. Even though I have never met him, I feel like I know him."

   “Wha…” you were at a loss of words as to what to say. 

   “Okay baby, I have to go now. Had to make dinner. Goodnight love!” she blows kisses at you and you catch it. After you repeat the same, she ends the call.

That night, lying awake, you think about what your mother told you. Do you like him?

You never got to figure out why he is constantly enraged by your presence, trying to sabotage you at any given moment. Sometimes you wanted to physically fight him to wipe that smug smile off his really handsome face. He has a cute face, you know that. You have seen the way the girls throw themselves at him. He can be quite charming when he wants, not with you though. Never with you.

----/----/----

You stare at your screen in disbelief.

B- In advanced human anatomy. The main fucking subject of your entire course. Your scores in other subjects were fine, but this was bad. You studied so hard for the online mid-terms. You did everything you could and this was the result? Could you even get a degree in Biology? You've always dreamed of studying biology. Although you would receive a handsome pension for your service in the air force, you still needed to find a job.

It was too late to realize you were crying while looking at your screen as your office door opened. You glance towards it to see Joaquin standing in the doorway, looking at you. You quickly wipe your tears. If your low scores weren’t enough, you had to face Mr. flawless in the face as everyone cheered for his obviously high scores.

   “Y/N, I-“

   “Don’t” you reply. You look at him to see a frown forming on his face like he was thinking of the best comeback.

   “I know you got better grades than me Torres, and as much as I would love to spar with you. I’m not in the mood.”

   “No, I just-“

But you don’t give him a chance to talk, as you were already on your way out of the office. “I know what you’re about to say. You’re better than me, smarter than me. I get it. Don’t rub it in my face.” Your voice breaks unintentionally, “Not today, Please.”

You storm out of your shared office.

---/---/---

The Next Day

You were halfway through your fourth lap on the field, or was it your fifth? You didn’t know as you were busy listening to AC/DC blasting in your ears. You were out of breath at this point but you didn’t want to stop. After crying yourself to sleep and running through all the scenarios of how your parents are going to react to your career choices in five years’ time, you needed a good run to clear your mind.

You hear a faint voice above the loud music in your ears, like someone was calling you. You take off your iPods and turn to see a figure running toward you.

   “Lieutenant Y/L/N!” you hear the familiar voice coming nearer.

You groan audibly when you see him. Standing in front of you, Joaquin leans down and puts his hands on his knees.

   “What are you- are you a superhero?” he asked in between breaths, “You just ran 800-meters in 2 minutes- oh god!” he huffs out.

   “For Christ’s sake Joaquin it’s five in the morning. Can I have some peace and quiet?" You turn to continue your lap but he steps in front of you.

   “Lieutenant Y/L/N will you listen-“

   “Oh, cut the crap what do you want?” you shout in frustration.

He stops and raises his eyebrows. You realize how rude you sound. You were angry and frustrated with everyone and everything. You, the person who wrote your bio textbook, and mostly, Joaquin. But in a second, all that anger was about to turn into confusion.

   “I need your help.”

You subconsciously tilt your head. Were you dreaming?

   “What?” you blurt out.

He rolls his eyes and grimaces, “Y/N, I need your help.” He repeats.

Lt. Joaquin Torres, the golden boy of the base, your nemesis… was standing in front of you in sports shots and a t-shirt, asking for your help. You stare at him for a whole minute. You can’t wrap your mind around this. And you reach an obvious conclusion

   “Is this a joke?” you finally ask.

He looks at the sky as if begging for patience to bear you.

What. A. Dick.

   “Yeah Y/N. This is a joke. I woke up at 4 in the morning, ran through the living quarters and the airstrip to find you on the field running laps like a bloody Olympian. For a joke.” He rests his hands on his hips.

   “Well, you did scramble up my flashcards minutes before my welcome speech to-“

   “Who makes flashcards for a rookie’s speech?” he cries out.

   “Oh, so you’re telling me you didn’t practice the Top Gun quote in front of your mirror?” you deadpan.

He opens his mouth and then closes it. You caught him red-handed.

   "Yeah." You give him a tight-lipped smile as you prepare to run again, but he steps in front of you. Yet again.

   “Y/N, would you please listen to me for a minute?” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking at you with his imposing, beautiful brown eyes.

   “This isn’t a Disney movie Torres don’t give me that look I’ll punch you.”

   “Wow, you would kick it with Sargent Barnes” he mutters under his breath. Before you could react, he continued, “okay, so you know how we have the training evaluation coming up in three weeks?”

   “Yeah.”

   “And you know how the rookies are scared shitless of me?”

   “Oh, they hate you.”

   “Yeah, I just, I think there is no way we can have both our teams ready by three weeks, like, they don’t know shit and it just makes me sad. Your team is very competent in fieldwork and air drills but I believe they need a bit of work there-”

   “Hey!”

   “-and mine is great in air drills but lazy during fieldwork. So…”

   “So?”

   “So, I suggest a truce between us. We forget our differences for three weeks, work together and train them so that we don’t get an earful from Captain Bexley when they die halfway through the evaluation.”

As much as you wanted to scream no on his face and walk away to boss music playing in the background, he was right. You knew Captain Bexley. You don’t make a mistake in front of him, because that man just needs one convincing reason to scream at you.

You had twenty-four airmen fresh out of the academy assigned in teams of twelve to both of you. They were ardent but inexperienced. His team was lacking behind in fieldwork. Yours were better than his, but they were behind on air drills. Just like you were, in academics.

An idea forms in your head.

   “Okay,” you reply.

   “Really?” he asked you, puzzled.

   “Yeah, but I want something in return.”

   “Something in return? I’m not negotiating here Y/N. Captain Bexley will chew us out when those idiots won’t be able to-”

   “I want you to tutor me. In biology” You cut him off.

   “Oh,” he replies. You see his features soften.

The rest of the day you sat in silence after returning to your cabin after crying in the bathroom. For the first time in a long time, Joaquin didn’t say anything to you for eight whole hours.

   “Look, I can’t believe I’m saying this, you are an expert in biology. You have tremendous knowledge in that field and I really need help. I somehow convinced myself last night I would unenroll from the course but we both know that’s a terrible idea. We have three semesters left and I have to get my grades up. So, I want- I need you to get me through biology.” You plead.

He stands in his place for a while, looking at you with his big brown eyes, in curiosity or confusion. You couldn’t tell “Okay. Sure. "Why not," he responds with a smile.

   “Good”

   “Great!” he raises his eyebrows, “let’s start today, partner” and he runs backward, facing you.

   “I’m not your partner!” you shout but he just gives his iconic smirk and runs away.

---/---/---

Four weeks later

   “Haemodialysis vs Peritoneal Dialysis” he looks at you above the flashcards he held in his hands. You were sitting across from him.

   “In hemodialysis, blood is pumped out of your body to an artificial kidney machine, and returned to your body by tubes that connect you to the machine. In peritoneal dialysis, the inside lining of your own belly acts as a natural filter.” You reply in one breath.

He switches the cards,"lactic acid”

   “Lactic acid is mainly produced in muscle cells and red blood cells. It forms when the body breaks down carbohydrates to use for energy when oxygen levels are low. Happens mostly during intense exercise.”

He tries to keep a poker face, but you catch a glimpse of a smirk from behind the flashcards.

Since your truce in the field, you both have successfully completed one month in two years without getting into a flying match. This was the first highlight of the base.

The second is both your teams absolutely nailed it in the evaluation. Every single one of them passed with flying colors. The idea of merging your teams and training them together has given you excellent results. Apart from you two guiding them, and helping them as much as you can, the team members have been helping each other out too.

The third highlight was a secret between the two of you.

You got a shocking A+ in Human Anatomy and Ecology Mock Test after Joaquin started tutoring you. You would sit together in the common room after duty hours and ‘study the shit out of those damn textbooks’ (he actually said that on the first day). Despite your beliefs, he didn't shame you for your low grades. He helped you to understand the topics better, and even though you some tricks to make exam notes so that you can fit a whole topic on one page, without missing out all the important stuff for revision. You couldn’t thank him enough. This was a huge step up from what you were doing mere weeks ago.

You earned some suspicious glances from your colleagues but everyone was too exhausted to be caught up in your drama that they just avoided you altogether. 

You have gotten quite close in just a few days. Turns out he is not a ruthless vampire who loves to suck the life out of everyone. He was quite tolerable when you get to know him. And he loved Power Rangers. 

Instead of fighting each other, you fought over defending your favorite Power Rangers. You couldn’t stop laughing when he made a whole PowerPoint presentation on why Power Rangers SPD is the best one out of them all.

   “They did the whole true-leader-vs-chosen-leader-of-the-rangers-plot thing way better than Samurai.”

   “Okay but you have to admit the best plot twist had to be Tenaya 7 being Dillon’s sister in RPM.”

   “I saw that coming from a mile away”

   “No! you didn’t!”

For those who didn’t know, people would think you were friends if they saw you together.

   “That… Was amazing. 29/30 Y/N” he says handing you the flashcards.

   "Gracias" you take them.

   “Oh, someone’s been learning Spanish.” He cocked his eyebrows.

And you felt it again. Your heart beating faster. The sudden heat on your face, like your blood, was ready to burst out of your system.

This happened a lot since you started to study together. He actually changed his schedule for you. The schedule that had been on his desk in a laminated sheet for 2 years, pristine and untouched, now had a mark between 6-8 PM marked 'Study'. He also had a strange annotation system in his diary that you still had to decode.

   “Yeah- I... um, I knew Spanish, it was actually, my High School elective." You smiled nervously.

Why the fuck were you stammering!!!

   “Nerd,” he says under his breath.

   “Oh, what did you do in high school?” you narrowed your eyes.

   “I played basketball and slept through history, like a normal person.”

   “Jock,” you say under your breath.

And he laughed.

If someone asked you to swear in your life that you never saw him laugh, you would do it. Because he never laughed. You either earned an irritating smirk from him when he got you in trouble or a tight-lipped sarcastic smile.

Despite that, the sound of his laugh had you speechless. It was charming to describe, but it was also stunningly beautiful. His eyes crinkled as he threw his head back, and his voice was... sweet?

   “Okay, enough of this, let’s wrap up and continue on Sunday.” He says as he stands up from his chair.

   “Wait. Sunday? Why? We have like six more topics to cover and the mock test is on Friday. We have to- “

   “Oh my god Y/N, take a breather! It’s Saturday.” He taps your head with a pencil.

   “And I’m heading to an arcade bar downtown. You know, to live the glory days of my youth so I don’t turn into Captain Bexley?” Saying so he starts closing the textbooks.

   “Oh. Okay,” you say as you start packing your stuff. You see him pause for a second from the corner of your eyes like he was thinking something, and he says, “You should come.” You jerk up your head at his invitation.

   “Me?” you ask him with wide eyes.

   “Yeah, I mean, why not. You need a break from all this. It might help you get your mind off of the Mock Test. And we still haven’t celebrated the victory of our collaboration”

Since when has Joaquin Torres of all people started to invite you out to have drinks with him?

   “And I promise we will be back to our apartments by 11 so you can go back to your mundane life on Sunday.” He says as he slides his bag onto his shoulder. “You in?”

You get up and grab your things. You can’t remember the last time you went out by yourself. This might take your mind off of things.

   "Okay, let's do this." You say.

   “Cool” he walks away to the exit door, but as he’s about to leave, he turns and smiles at you.

   “See you tomorrow,” he says and he walks away.

Now that you have seen his smile twice in one day, you cannot get over it. He looked so, so soft. He looked like a character from a romance novel with the crinkles around his eyes and the way his hair fell over his forehead. How would it feel if you run your fingers through them? As he holds you closer by your waist kissing your-

Wait.

Was Joaquin Torres… Handsome?

---/---/---

Part Two || Series Masterlist

A/N Hope you all like it I kind of went all in with this request I had no idea how this would turn out. Do reblog, like, and comment how you like this fic. Feel free to suggest and request your ideas right here-

Requests are open! Feel free to request anything.

---/---/---

Tag List:

@tuiccim  @parkjammys  @akinrawsx  @asteph22  @iamthebeth  @thefandomqueenuno  @onlyhereforthefics @yikesdameron  @savedfanfics1992  @amigaytho  @samwilson-mylove   @xbuchananbarnes-deactivated @jenniweaslee @anna-phora

[plus-size-reader]

Loyalty

Aemond Targaryen x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3628 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader is closer to Aegon, which is unacceptable to Aemond, who is in love with her and always has been

(Disclaimer: I despise the brutality against women used as a plot device for 'entertainment' so any SA or ickiness regarding Aegon doesn't exist in my universe. He's still a burden on the realm and uber pathetic tho)

—————————————————————————————————

You had always cared for Aegon.

He could be challenging sometimes, you knew that better than anyone, but that didn’t change the fact that he was important to you. As children, he would share his toys with you and tell you stories of worlds far beyond this one.

Things changed as you got older, of course, but he was still Aegon. It didn’t matter how crass, cruel, or drunk he got.

He was your truest friend, and that meant that you were willing to put up with certain things for his sake.

At this moment, for example, you were listening to him drunkenly ramble about battle strategy and knights he figured he could best in combat over dinner. Did you particularly care about either of those things? Of course not.

…but Aegon did, so you listened all the same.

Just as the rest of his family did, because like it or not, he was the firstborn son and this kingdom was his to inherit.

One member of his family, in particular, was less than thrilled with this arrangement. At the other end of the table sat Aemond, the second son of King Viserys Targaryen, drinking from his own goblet to keep the bile from rising in his throat.

You had to be kidding.

Did you truly find his brother that interesting? It wasn’t possible that you actually believed him capable of besting Sir Harwin Strong in hand-to-hand combat. Aegon could hardly stand on his own most of the time.

He would die in a fight like that, and Aemond knew you were clever enough to know that. Still, you said nothing as he continued his rant.

You just kept listening, with a soft smile playing at your lips, as if his idiot brother wasn’t an embarrassment to his bloodline.

“I know for certain that I could have been a knight, the best knight there ever was” Aegon spouted, slurring his words lightly toward their end and earning a soft giggle from you as you imagined what that would look like.

It was a lie.

Aegon didn’t have what it took to be a knight by any stretch of the imagination but your laughter wasn’t so much about what he said. More than anything, it was about Aegon. He was drunk, as he so often was, but in moments like these, it didn’t matter.

This was how he’d been as a boy too, and that was the part that amused you. The slight glimpses of the dreamer he’d been before the world had robbed him of his right to dream.

Before he’d turned into nothing more than a man, seeking out his own pleasures, even at the expense of every other.

“I think I would quite like to see that” you mused, sipping from your own cup, though you weren’t anywhere near as under the influence as he was. You had been nursing the same goblet all night, one cup for Aegon’s seven.

It wasn’t really a challenge, but like he so often did, Aegon took it as one anyway.

“I would venture I could even beat Aemond, if he’d be brave enough to face me,” he added, shooting his brother a look that did sort of alarm you. It was beyond harmless musings about the knights of the realm and famed warriors.

This was a bit more personal, and you didn’t like where it was heading. “I could even cover an eye, make it fair for him”

Naturally, in his drunken state, Aegon’s movements were clumsy and rash but the implications when his left hand came up to cover his eye were just as impactful as they would have been if they’d been delivered sober.

You were silent for a moment, your gaze shifting between the future King’s lopsided grin and the sharp glare of his younger brother.

He knew that he’d been insulted, and you didn’t expect him to forgive it, but shot him a look anyway. It was small, but the message was clear.

You were asking him to ignore his brother’s ill conceived attempt at humor.

“Alright, perhaps you should slow down, Aegon” you suggested finally, resting your hand gingerly on his wrist, all but forcing the cup in his hand back to the table’s surface the moment he once again attempted to lift it to his mouth.

He had already been drinking most of the day and as the sun slowly retreated from the sky, it was certainly time to stop. Your fear for what he’d do if he didn’t was only furthering your insistence.

Not that you could make that clear outright.

“Y/N’s right, it’s about time for everyone to turn in” Alicent agreed, shooting you a thankful glance as she stood from the table, glad that she didn’t have to step in. The King had already gone back to his chambers, and with her leaving, everyone else was sure to follow suit.

Alicent had always been glad for the bond you shared with Aegon, though she didn’t understand it, especially in moments like this.

You were probably the only person who could have ever gotten him to do as you asked without the tantrum that normally followed. “Goodnight, your Grace” you called, watching as she and Helena retreated from the room, leaving you, Aegon and his brother alone in the room.

In the back of your mind, you were aware that Aemond was still watching you, his blue eye unwavering as he studied you, but you didn’t have time to figure out why.

Not before his brother once again pulled your attention to him instead.

“I’m not finished” Aegon tried, bringing the chalice back to his lips only for Aemond to scoff over your shoulder.

He would truly never understand how his brother had managed to survive this long, much less maintain his place in line for the throne. He had no real business being there, and he wouldn’t, if it hadn’t been for his birthright.

Though that would just be among the list of things Aemond didn’t understand, like why you were so determined to take such good care of his pathetic brother, when you got nothing back in return.

Aegon would never show you the same courtesy, not in the way he would, had he been in his place.

“Yes you are, it’s time for bed” you spoke softly to your oldest friend, but your eyes had found their way across the table to Aemond and his now sour attitude.

It was no secret that he and his brother didn’t exactly get along, but you didn’t understand what had happened tonight that was any more irksome to him than any other night. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d insulted him, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Every night with Aegon was essentially the same, and no one was more used to that than Aemond was. Not even you.

“Will you take me?” the firstborn asked, that twisted smirk finding its way onto his face once more as he grinned, never ceasing his drinking even as he spoke about being done drinking.

Normally, one of the servant girls would be tasked with trying to get the future King to his chambers, but between his cheery mood this evening and the silent appreciation you’d gotten from the Queen, you figured you were up to the task tonight.

“If you promise to behave, I will take you” you agreed, finally reaching over to snag his cup from him completely, the stem held delicately between your fingers.

Again, Aemond found himself swallowing back more than just wine as he watched the scene in front of him unfold.

Did the two of you really have to do this every night? Aegon was married after all, and if his mother had anything to say about it, you would be too, soon enough.

It was so far beneath you.

In Aemond’s opinion, his ridiculous brother could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve a moment of your time, but clearly, his believing that wasn’t enough to convince you. At this point, he feared nothing would.

“Are you serious?” he finally called out, not even bothering to hide the ugly tone in his voice. It was practically dripping with emotions, but whether that was jealousy or disgust, he wasn’t sure.

Perhaps it was some mix of both.

“About what?” you hummed, your focus not leaving his brother even as you spoke to Aemond, ignoring the clear upset in his voice in favor of getting the future King to his feet.

Because even when he was speaking directly to you, Aegon was all you could ever give your attention to.

Aegon was basically dead weight when he drank like this, and it was going to be quite the task for you to get him into bed without accident. Not that the servant girls complained, each and every night when they took the job.

They simply did what needed to be done, and you weren’t about to be any different. Those girls deserved a break from his drunken antics for once.

“I could get someone to do that for you. It isn’t your job to make sure he gets to bed” This time, Aemond was sure to monitor the venom in his voice, fully aware that it wasn’t getting him anywhere anyway.

If Aegon had spoken to you like that, you would have stopped everything to assess its origin, but from Aemond, it was almost as if he hadn’t opened his mouth at all.

Why he even bothered at all at this point, he wasn’t sure.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you assured, draping the blonde’s arm over your shoulders and heading toward the door without a second look at his brother. The second son, the man who dreamed of taking care of you instead of forcing you to care for his every need.

The man who had been hopelessly pining over you for all the years you’d known him, but who you’d never once actually seen.

Left all alone at the table.

~

You were able to move quietly through the halls, finding Aegon much less drunk than you’d originally assumed once he got to his feet. His steps were clunky, and he’d been whisper-yelling in Valyrian at you the entire time, but he wasn’t totally helpless.

He’d had enough to fully give up on the pretense of his birthright, but not enough to be slobbering on your shoulder, which you had enough cause to be thankful for. In the past, he’d not been so gracious.

“Alright, go to sleep now Aegon,” you cooed, pulling the covers up over him and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “In the morning, we can take a walk around the garden”

The only answer to your suggestion came in the form of gentle snoring, which made you smile in spite of yourself as you left the room.

It seemed to you that the only time the prince got any peace was when he slept. He hadn’t always been that way, but as the days passed, you found it harder and harder to ignore the way the world was changing him.

You weren’t blind to the truth.

It was just as obvious to you that Aegon was a disaster as it was to everyone else. You knew that he was a coward and a fool and that the care you had for him was the only thing keeping you from sharing the ire for him that so many others felt.

You knew that, but the truth remained that he was your oldest friend and you loved him for that, despite his many flaws.

You were many things, and loyal seemed to be chief among them, even if sometimes you wondered if your faith in him was misplaced. Would Aegon be a good King? You weren’t sure, but you knew that you would be by his side until the day he proved undeserving.

The Lord’s chamber door closed softly behind you and gave way to a long dark hallway, which you maneuvered expertly. You had taken the walk between your chambers and Aegon’s a thousand times and you knew it like the back of your hand.

Still, you couldn’t account for everything.

For example, you never could have expected to be grabbed from your path until it happened, and you found yourself standing in an adjacent room instead of the long expanse of the hallway. You couldn’t see it that well, with only the moonlight streaming in through the window available to help orient yourself.

It wasn’t an altogether distinctive space at first glance, but it didn’t take you long to place it anyway.

The grasp your kidnapper had on your arms remained, even as the moments ticked by, and while it wasn’t tight or uncomfortable, it gave away the perpetrator in an instant.

Aemond.

No one else was capable of so much selfish aggression while also maintaining such a tight composure. No one else would have cause to take you from the hall, and certainly no one else would have the gull to do so.

Still, for whatever reason, apparently the blonde had decided to snatch you from your normal path and was now just holding you here, a foul look on his usually handsome face.

“Care to explain yourself, my Lord?” you scoffed, removing your arms from his grip as gently as you could, and trying to figure out what could have possibly gotten into him.

It didn’t make any sense.

Never had he attempted something like this before, and you couldn’t work out what was going on, no matter how hard you tried.

“My problem? My problem is that you couldn’t possibly be more of a fool” he started, essentially ignoring your justified response in favor of his own feelings.

He couldn’t watch it anymore.

It was bad enough that his brother was a bumbling idiot without any care for history or culture, or any actual skill. He couldn’t have the throne, the realm, and the affections of you.

That would simply be too much.

Especially when he deserved it so much more. .

“What are you talking about? How much did you have to drink tonight?” you wondered. You were used to Aemond being moody, and he could be unpredictable sometimes but never had he put his hands on you like this. Never had he spoken to you in such a way.

It didn’t make sense, and if you were being honest, you didn’t like it. This was something you wouldn’t have given a second thought coming from Aegon, but here, with Aemond in front of you, it confused you.

Aemond scoffed, clearly not finding your care for his well-being as endearing now that it was aimed at him. Even an hour earlier, he would have been thrilled to have even an ounce of your affection, but not now.

Now, it was almost an insult.

He was so tired of being the second son, and the second in line for everything. Just once, he wanted someone to pick him over his idiot brother.

“Not nearly enough. Perhaps if I drank more, you’d actually look me in the eye”

That got your attention.

You were silent for a moment as you considered his words, and what they could possibly mean in regards to this conversation.

It was an obvious jab at his brother, but it still didn’t help you understand what all this was about and you were torn. You didn’t know how long you were supposed to let this go on or how you were supposed to react.

On one hand, you never would have wanted Aemond to be upset but on the other, you couldn’t exactly explain being alone together in the dark, in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t technically allowed considering that you were both unmarried, and while the Queen was fond of you, you were certain she wouldn’t like this.

You sighed, taking in the distance, or lack therefore, of space between the two of you before you finally broke your silence. “Aemond, enough of this, what has you so upset?”

Your voice was soft as you spoke, hoping to get him to calm down enough to actually speak to you. He had always been the more rational of the brothers and he was certainly better at communicating.

It was one of your favorite things about him, but right now, he sounded like Aegon and you didn’t like that one bit either.

You put up with Aegon out of care for him and hope for the kind young boy you had once known him to be, but Aemond was better than that. You enjoyed his company, and the time you spent together was time you treasured.

You didn’t understand why he was so angry with you tonight.

“I don’t understand why you love him when he treats you so poorly. What has he ever done to deserve your affections?” he wondered, his tone matching yours almost instantly.

It hadn’t been his intention to yell at you, and it certainly wasn’t something he wanted to do, but one man could only take so much. At some point, he had to make it so that you saw who he was, and what he had to offer you.

Of course, Aemond would have preferred a heartfelt declaration of his feelings, in a room where he could actually see the sparkling of your eyes instead of this, but it was no matter.

Even if it had to be like this, little more than a hushed whisper under the cover of darkness, all that mattered was that you heard him.

…and what choice did you have after something like that? What had Aegon done to deserve your affections? You weren’t sure.

Granted, if you’d had time to think about it, you may have had a reason. You may have been able to explain the many reasons you’d chosen him as your closest friend but right now, you couldn’t think of a single thing.

All you could focus on was the way Aemond was peering down at you with so much intensity and the way his right hand had slowly snuck back up to your wrist at your side, fiddling with the fabric trim of your sleeve.

All you could see, and feel, was him in a way you’d never experienced before.

“I don’t know,'' you muttered finally, feeling a bit pathetic as you willed your brain to work properly. You had never once been stunned into silence by the presence of another person before, and it didn’t make any sense.

What had changed? You didn’t know. Apparently, in this moment, you didn’t know much of anything but instead of mocking you as Aegon would have, Aemond simply nodded.

That was what he thought.

You were so used to being devoted to his brother, and had been for so many years, that you didn’t even know why that was. You were so busy constantly doting on him, and dealing with his every thought and feeling that you didn’t realize it was meaningless.

“I could be so much more for you, if you’d only let me” Aemond’s words surrounded you the moment he spoke them, and like the crashing of waves, you realized what this was.

He wasn’t angry at all.

Aemond was hurt.

All this time, he was under the impression that the reason you remained by Aegon’s side was because of a longing, forever to be unfulfilled, but that couldn’t be more wrong.

You did not love Aegon, and it was not Aegon who made you feel as if you could breathe for the first time in all your life.

That title belonged to another, though he had clearly been just as blind to the truth as you had before now.

“I do care much for Aegon. He’s one of my oldest friends, but I have no desire to be with him,” you clarified, feeling the need to get that out in the open first and foremost. Getting a bit braver, you took his wandering hand in your own, giving it a testing squeeze.

It was so strange, knowing someone so well and not at all, all in the same moment.

Aemond tensed slightly at the touch, almost as if you’d struck him, largely because this wasn’t what he’d expected at all. In truth, he hadn’t had much time to consider anything at all regarding this conversation, but he never would have predicted this, not with all the time in the world.

“What do you desire?” he asked, his tone barely audible and inconceivably small as he tried to wrap his mind around how he’d gotten to this point.

You, the one he’d always dreamed of, were so close and yet still so far away. He felt as if he were to breathe, he may ruin it all, and that just wasn’t worth the risk.

Gingerly, you collected your thoughts, for once deciding to let your own desires out way those of everyone else.

Aegon didn’t matter, the opinions of the nobility didn’t matter, and really, Aemond didn’t either. In this moment, all that mattered was you and what you truly desired, stripped bare of all other things.

“I quite think I’d like to be cared for, for a while” you hummed, your voice equal parts certain and wavering as you tried to take a role you’d never known a day in your life.

If Aemond meant as he said, he would take care of you and that was something you desperately wanted. You just weren’t used to asking for the things you wanted, or even, needed. It wasn’t something someone of your standing had ever known.

…But, perhaps it was time to change all that.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

Guys please I actually have readers who question the age gap in my Diabolik Lovers x Game of Thrones series and I only reply with "because it's Game of Thrones??"

Just watch this video y'all.

PS. Thank you @crookedherringcolorclod for sending this one hahahaha

[promenadewithme]

First of all, I want to thank all of you so much for the follows, likes, comments, reblogs and support in general! I can't believe I hit 50 followers so soon! I know it’s not much, but I actually didn’t expect any at all so I’m so happy!! Thank you ❤️

Now, this is how the celebration is going to work: first you chose a song and a character. Then send it to my requests with your pronoun of choice, along with any other specifications and I'll write you a fic based on the song! You can either send the song or specific quotes as prompts

To find the fics I will write, use the #Anastasia's 50 followers celebration

This event starts today (May 20th) and ends June 10th

Support Me on Ko-Fi - if you’re feeling generous 💕

Songs:

Fluff (Romantic)

Paper Rings - Taylor Swift

London Boy - Taylor Swift

Love Story - Taylor Swift

Lover - Taylor Swift

King of My Heart - Taylor Swift

Willow - Taylor Swift

Crazier - Taylor Swift

New Year’s Day - Taylor Swift

Daylight - Taylor Swift

Jump Then Fall - Taylor Swift

How You Get The Girl - Taylor Swift

You Are In Love - Taylor Swift

It’s Nice To Have A Friend - Taylor Swift

Today Was A Fairytale - Taylor Swift

State Of Grace - Taylor Swift

Mine - Taylor Swift

Delicate - Taylor Swift

Say You Won't Let Go - James Arthur

Naked - James Arthur

Rewrite The Stars - James Arthur + Anne-Marie

I Won't Give Up - Jason Mraz

I'm Yours - Jason Mraz

Thinking Out Loud - Ed Sheeran

Tenerife Sea - Ed Sheeran

How Would You Feel (Paean) - Ed Sheeran

Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran

Afterglow - Ed Sheeran

Lego House - Ed Sheeran

Dive - Ed Sheeran

Galway Girl - Ed Sheeran

Everything Has Changed - Ed Sheeran + Taylor Swift

I Was Made For Loving You - Tori Kelly + Ed Sheeran

Make You Feel My Love -Adele

One Call Away - Charlie Puth

Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Just The Way You Are - Bruno Mars

Count On Me - Bruno Mars

Little Things - One Direction

Night Changes - One Direction

Can't Help Falling In Love - Elvis Presley

Andante, Andante - ABBA

Waterloo - ABBA

All Of Me - John Legend

Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish

Snowman - Sia

A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

Arms - Christina Perri

Teenage Dream - Katy Perry

Halo - Beyoncé

The Only Exception - Paramore

Dandelions - Ruth B

Someone To You - BANNERS

Would You Be So Kind - Dodie

Someone You Like - The Girl and The Dreamcatcher

If I Could Tell Her - Ben Platt 

Absolutely Smitten - Dodie

How Long Will I Love - Ellie Goulding

Angst (Romantic)

Good 4 u - Olivia Rodrigo

Drivers License - Olivia Rodrigo

Deja Vu - Olivia Rodrigo

Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo

Traitor - Olivia Rodrigo

Enough For You - Olivia Rodrigo

1 step forward, 3 steps back - Olivia Rodrigo

Happier - Olivia Rodrigo

Jealousy, Jealousy- Olivia Rodrigo

Favourite Crime - Olivia Rodrigo

Hope Ur Ok - Olivia Rodrigo

Betty - Taylor Swift

Exile - Taylor Swift

Teardrops On My Guitar - Taylor Swift

Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

Tolerate It - Taylor Swift

You’re Not Sorry - Taylor Swift

Should’ve Said No - Taylor Swift

White Horse - Taylor Swift

You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift

My Tears Ricochet - Taylor Swift

Back to December - Taylor Swift

Breathe - Taylor Swift

The 1 - Taylor Swift

All Too Well - Taylor Swift

Invisible String - Taylor Swift

Evermore - Taylor Swift

Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

The Heart Wants What It Wants - Selena Gomez

When I Was Your Man -Bruno Mars

Someone Like You - Adele

Hello - Adele

All I Ask - Adele

Let Her Go - Passenger

Say Something - A Great Big World

Stay With Me - Sam Smith

California King Bed - Rihanna

Take a Bow - Rihanna

Broken Hearted Girl - Beyoncé

Tonight I Wanna Cry - Keith Urban

The Winner Takes It All - ABBA

SOS - ABBA

One Of Us - ABBA

Half a Heart - One Direction

Yesterday - The Beatles

If The World Was Ending - Julia Michaels

Colors - Halsey

Happier - Ed Sheeran

One Last Time - Ariana Grande

Why’d You Only Call Me When You High - Artic Monkeys

Play Date - Melanie Martinez

Just a Friend to You - Meghan Trainor

All I Want - Kodaline

Love You From A Distance - Ashley Kutcher

Potential Breakup Song - Aly & AJ

I Don’t Wanna See You With Her - Maria Mena

Let Her Go - Passenger

All My Tears - Ane Brun

Always On My Mind - Elvis Presley

Someone to you - Lewis Capaldi 

Before You Go - Lewis Capaldi

Others

Sit Still, Look Pretty - Daya

How To Be A Heartbreaker - MARINA

No Body, No Crime - Taylor Swift

Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift

Blank Space - Taylor Swift

You Need To Calm Down - Taylor Swift

Getaway Car -Taylor Swift

Gorgeous - Taylor Swift

Bad Blood - Taylor Swift

The Man - Taylor Swift

22 - Taylor Swift

Dorothea - Taylor Swift

Marjorie - Taylor Swift

The Best Day - Taylor Swift

Mirrorball - Taylor Swift

I Forgot That You Existed - Taylor Swift

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things - Taylor Swift

The Lakes - Taylor Swift

The Last Great American Dynasty - Taylor Swift

Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson

When I Kissed The Teacher - ABBA

I Have A Dream - ABBA

I've Been Waiting For You - ABBA

You'll Be In My Heart - Phil Collins

Titanium - David Guetta (feat. Sia)

F**ckin' Perfect - P!nk

New Rules - Dua Lipa

IDGAF - Dua Lipa

Bad Guy - Billie Eilish

You Should See Me in A Crown - Billie Eilish

COPYCAT - Billie Eilish

Count On Me - Bruno Mars

Stand By You - Rachel Platten

Firework - Katy Perry

Because You Loved Me - Céline Dion

See You Again - Wiz Khalifa + Charlie Puth

NO - Meghan Trainor

Skyfall - Adele

Gasoline - Halsey

Castle On The Hill - Ed Sheeran

Save Myself - Ed Sheeran

Supermarket Flowers - Ed Sheeran

Small Bump - Ed Sheeran

Growing Up - Macklemore, Ryan Lewis, Ed Sheeran

7 Rings - Ariana Grande

Bad Liar - Selena Gomez

Rare - Selena Gomez

Who Says - Selena Gomez

I Turn To You - Christina Aguilera

Till There Was You - The Beatles

Sweetest Devotion - Adele

ps: sorry, I'm a Swiftie and a Sheerio <3

Characters

Character x fem! or GN! reader (ROMANTIC)

ACOTAR: Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Helion, Tarquin, kallias and Tamlin.

BRIDGERTON: Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton and Simon Basset.

GRISHAVERSE: Nikolai, Mal, The Darkling, Kaz, Matthias, Jesper, Wylan and David.

THRONE OF GLASS: Dorian Havilliard and Chaol Westfall.

HARRY POTTER: Harry, Ron, Neville, Draco, George, Fred, Oliver, Cedric, Young Sirius, Young James and Young Remus.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE: Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley.

MARVEL: Steve, Bucky, Sam, Pietro, Loki, Thor, Peter Parker, Ned, Tony, Bruce, Vision, Clint, T'Challa, Scott Lang, James Rhodes, Peter Quill and Stephen Strange.

THE HUNGER GAMES: Peeta, Gale and Finnick.

GREY'S ANATOMY: Derek Shepherd, Andrew DeLuca, Alex Karev, Jackson Avery, Mark Sloan, George O'Malley, Link, Koracick and Ben Warren.

TEEN WOLF: Scott, Stiles, Derek, Isaac, Liam and Jackson.

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES: Damon, Stefan, Matt, Klaus, Elijah and Kai.

NARNIA: Peter, Edmund and Caspian.

STAR WARS: Anakin, Obi Wan, Kylo, Han, Luke, Poe, Finn and Din Djarin.

Character x platonic!/sis!/bro!/enemy!/daughter!/son!/mentor!/or anything else platonic Reader

ACOTAR: Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Feure, Nesta, Elain, Mor, Amren, Nyx, Lucien, Tarquin, Helion, Kallias, Tamlin, Ianthe, Suriel and Bone Carver.

GRISHAVERSE: Nikolai, Mal, Darkling, David, Alina, Bahgra, Zoya, Tamar, Tolya, Apparat, Kaz, Matthias, Jesper, Wylan, Nina, Inej, Tantee Heleen and Pekka Rollins.

THRONE OF GLASS: Dorian, Chaol and Aelin.

BRIDGERTON: Anthony, Benedict, Colin; Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, Hyacinth, Lady Violet, Simon, Lady Danbury, Penelope, Lady Portia Featherington, Marina, Sienna, Genevieve, Cressida and Queen Charlotte.

HARRY POTTER: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Draco, George, Fred, Oliver, Cedric, Cho, Seamus, Fleur, Pansy, Myrtle, Sirius (old or young), James (old or young), Remus (old or young), Lily (old or young), Molly, Arthur, Bill, Percy, Charlie, Xenophilus Lovegood, Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Moody, Flitwick, Umbridge, Bellatrix, Voldemort, Lucius, Narcissa, Peter Pettigrew, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Dobby and Nearly Headless Nick.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE: Mr Darcy, Georgiana Darcy, Mr Bingley, Caroline Bingley, Elizabeth Bennet, Jane Bennet, Mary Bennet, Lydia Bennet, Catherine Bennet, Charlotte Lucas, Wickam, Mr Collins, Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet.

MARVEL: Steve, Peggy, Sharon, Natasha, Bucky, Sam, Carol, Monica Rambeau, Pietro, Wanda, Agatha Harkness, Loki, Frigga, Odin, Hela, Thor, Heimdall, Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis, Valkyrie, Peter Parker, Ned, MJ, Tony, Pepper, Morgan, Happy, Howard, Bruce, Vision, Clint, T'Challa, Shuri, Scott, Hope, Hank, Cassie, James Rhodes, Peter Quill, Gamora, Mantis, Nebula, Groot, Rocket, Drax, Stephen Strange, Wong, Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, Maria Hill, Thanos, Ancient One, Red Skull, Ultron, John Walker and Zemo.

THE HUNGER GAMES: Katniss, Peeta, Gale, Finnick, Haymitch, Rue, President Snow, Primrose, Effie, Cinna and Johanna.

GREY'S ANATOMY: Meredith, Derek, Andrew, Alex, Jackson, Mark, Lexie, Cristina, April, Izzie, George, Callie, Owen, Addison, Arizona, Miranda, Amelia, Link, Burke, Teddy, Maggie, Richard, Carina, Ben Warren, Megan Hunt, Ellis Grey, Catherine Avery and Tom Koracick.

TEEN WOLF: Scott, Stiles, Malia, Lydia, Allison, Derek, Isaac, Liam, Jackson, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Sheriff Stilinski, Kira, Melissa McCall and Noshiko Yukimura.

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES: Damon, Elena, Katherine, Stefan, Caroline, Bonnie, Jenna, Klaus, Elijah, Rebeka, Sheriff Forbes, Kai and Lexi.

NARNIA: Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy, Caspian and Aslan.

STAR WARS: Anakin, Padme, Yoda, Jarjar, Obi Wan, Kylo, Rey, Han, Leia, Luke, Poe, Finn and Din Djarin and Grogu.

No pressure tags: @venuswritesfanfic @for-bebbanburg @maggiescarborough @multifandomfix @sweetnspicysimp @lazypeachsoul @magravenwrites

[myriadimagines]

Hi there! If you are still doing drabble ships, could I please request one for prompt 1 & 98 for one of the Game of Thrones guys? She/her, bright green eyes, and short brown hair. I am pretty shy, but I’m very friendly. I love to read. I collect knives. I’m an extremely loyal friend. My favorite time of day is dusk or midnight. I’m also such a water person. I love being around it and in it. I could easily spend all day in water. Thank you so much! Ps I ship you with Robb Stark.

Characters: Reader x Theon Greyjoy

Warnings: —

Prompt: 01. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to punch you.” & 98. “You’re actually a big softie, aren’t you?”

Word Count: 441

A/N: i literally clowned myself so hard omg i kept switching my mind about this one but was deciding between gendry and theon so i wrote gendry down but then i left this in my drafts for a day or two and came back to it, didn’t see i had planned to write it with gendry, and just wrote this whole thing with theon. asjkdhaksd honestly i didnt really need to share that but i figured whatever, but i hope u like it and thank u so much for the ship 💖

NOT TAKING ANYMORE REQUESTS!

You grit your teeth as an arrow slices through the air, landing on the tattered target in front of you. You frustratedly lower your bow and arrow, whipping around to glare at Theon, who barely holds back his laughter as he meets your angered gaze.

“If you keep doing that,” you warn. “I’m going to punch you.”

Theon chuckles, flashing you a goofy grin you’ve become familiar with over the many years of knowing him. You practically grew up beside him, seeing as your father took him in after the rebellion. His grip around his bow tightens, and you watch as he reaches for another arrow. The two of you are practicing archery, a skill you swear you’re going to master, but Theon keeps hitting your target, purposely throwing you off.

You raise your bow and arrow again, squinting one eye as you try to focus on the target. Theon does the same, at first aiming towards his own target, but before you can release your arrow, Theon’s arrow darts through your vision, burying itself into the center of your target, right next to his other arrow. You groan, turning to Theon, who can’t help but burst into gleeful laughter. His laughter quickly disappears as you charge towards him, and he lets out a yelp as he drops his weapons and darts off, trying to avoid you and your raised fists. You snort as he cowers again, and you triumphantly smirk at him, teasing, “Not so tough now, I see. You’re actually a big softie, aren’t you?”

“Am not.” Theon protests, squaring his shoulders. Gesturing towards your target, he says, “Go on, try again. Promise I won’t interfere.”

You dubiously raise an eyebrow at him. “No. It’s useless. I’ll never be good at archery.”

Theon’s eyebrows furrow. “Don’t say that. You just haven’t had enough practice, is all.”

You blink at him, taken aback by his sudden change in tone, the softness of his words. He smiles at you, this time genuinely, his eyes full of earnestness as he offers you an uncharacteristically encouraging smile. You hesitantly raise your bow, turning your attention back to the target. You take in a deep breath, before letting the arrow fly, and your eyes widen in shock as it lands on the target. Not in the centre, but you hit it, and you let out a delighted laugh. You turn to Theon, brimming with joy, and Theon can’t help but smile at how adorably excited you look. He gestures towards the target, urging, “Keep practicing.”

You reach for another arrow, raising an eyebrow at him. “You better not interrupt me.”

Theon smirks. “No promises.”

[fandom-puff]

Rules for Requesting

What I write

Shorter works eg imagines, drabbles

One shots

Headcanons (typically as bullet pointed lists)

X reader fic (default is female reader- please specify if you want male/non-binary reader :))

X character fic eg: Sherlock x John

Longer/multi chapter fics- anything longer than 2 chapters will be posted on my AO3 page

Fandoms I write for:

Harry Potter

Peaky blinders

Game of thrones

Sherlock

Bridgerton

The hunger games

Criminal Minds

Doctor Who

I DO write...

Smut (both mild and spicy 😉)

AU where a character lives/dies (eg Snape lives)

Violence (inc sexual violence)

Certain mental health issues such as Depression, anxiety, SH, panic attacks, (these are the ones I’m most familiar with, as I suffer/have suffered from them. However, if you are unsure, please drop me a quick message before making your request♥��)

Things like smut and content that may be triggering to some readers such as violence/mental health issues will be put in a warning in bold at the top of any given fic, BEFORE the GIF/image

I don’t write...

Soulmate AUs

Crossovers

Ships (eg: ‘hi I’m a female ravenclaw with this appearance and this personality, who do you ship me with?’) unless it’s within a follower milestone event

Detailed descriptions of suicide attempts or self harm- particularly anything that involves a noose. If necessary, it may be mentioned in a sentence in a relevant work (eg- an Arthur Shelby fic) but do not expect a full paragraph of detail. Metaphors or reference, maybe. But not actual physical description. This is something very important to me, as it is potentially something that could trigger a depressive/trauma episode due to personal experiences.

Super-detailed requests. I don’t mind some specifics eg ‘can I have HCs with a short reader who is shy and (character) hears her singing and thinks it’s beautiful’ but I do not accept SUPER detailed eg ‘... with a reader who is 5’4 with long blonde hair who likes (...) and dislikes (...) and studied (...) etc etc’ this is COMMISSION LEVEL DETAIL- as in, something written SPECIFICALLY for you which no one else can relate to.

Things to keep in mind

I have the right to reject any request

I write smut. All warnings are at the top of the fic in bold so you know what’s included.

if you are using prompts from a prompt list, please make sure you mention which list it’s from. If you just say ‘2 and 6’ I won’t know what to do. ‘2 and 6 from the fluff list with x character please’ is MUCH BETTER- even better if you copy and paste the actual prompt into your request

remember your Ps and Qs- your fic writers are human beings too- we love and cherish our readers dearly, but occasionally there will be someone who is quite standoffish in requests and it puts a downer on us all. Be nice to us plz we are DELICATE

These rules are subject to change as I continue to write. If you are ever unsure, please drop me a message so I can help out ♥️♥️

Last updated: 24/6/23

[happypopcornprincess]

Story Sneak Peek #2

The Hating Game

Pairings - Joaquín Torres x Aviator!Reader

Premise – The infamous rivalry between you and Joaquin Torres is well known on the base. He hates you and you hate him. After unlikely circumstances, you realize hating someone is disturbingly similar to falling in love with them

Warnings: Major Spoilers for The Hating Game Novel. (btw read the book it is too good <3)

Note: I wrote this fic a long time before watching Top Gun: Maverick and i tried my best to make it as accurate as possible but still apologies for any mistakes :) The personality of Torres in this fic is going to be a mix of his series one and Joashua Templeman's from The Hating Game books.

Credits to Sally Throne for the original story of The Hating Game that inspired this fic. Some scenes will be exclusively from the novel, others I will spin my way. I do not own anything, this is my interpretation of the novel with MCU characters.

PS. it was requested anonymously a long time ago sorry it took so long for me to post this :')

Lt. Joaquin Torres was the highlight of the base. His practice rounds were impressive, his scores were excellent, and the people under his command were excellent. Oh, and he was also an Avenger. He was enrolled in the same course as you. They would all brag about how he completed all the assignments while performing all his duties.

When you first arrived on base, you were friendly with everyone, especially with officers under your rank. Your first encounter with him was when you were off duty, so you smiled and even offered a handshake, since you were both of the same rank. But he just stared at you and walked away.

This was in stark contrast to him, who was feared by everyone under him. Nothing escaped his notice; he was like a hawk. Including you.

The two of you were the most notorious rivals on the base. You don’t remember how it started. Maybe it was because he didn’t return your smile, or chose to ignore your existence even though your desks were beside each other. As if it were second nature, a subconscious comparison. There was competition in everything you did. Be it your duties as lieutenants, or sports, or academic valedictions, you were on each other’s throats. If someone saw you two together, they would run, not wanting to be caught in crossfire.

You got an earful from Captain Bexley from time to time. However, given the fact you two were top officers at the base, he couldn’t do anything more than scream at the two of you and give you extra hours. How either one of you was not deployed to a different base was beyond your understanding.

“Sup Y/N!” he rolls to your work desk on a rolling chair. You resist your urge to roll your eyes at him, to not stroke his ego for successfully disturbing you.

Your offices were in the same room, two desks alongside each other.

“I am studying. Unlike you, Torres” you say without looking at him. You continued to work as he glanced around your desk. It was a well-organized space, but far from his. His desk looked the same as it did a year ago, with no personal photos, or colorful things. Just a mosaic of very official, dark pastels.

You hear the crinkling sound of paper and a long sigh coming from him. “Haemodialysis. Interesting.”

Your eyes grow wide as you look at him. “Stop digging through my stuff smartass.” You try to pry the piece of paper from him but he just rolls away.

   “You know it’s not that complicated. I thought you were good at this, given the fact you’re a major nerd.”

   “Well, I am trying my best.”

He gives you a smirk. “Yeah, okay” and gets back to work.

   “Can you be considerate for once in your entire life?” you ask him.

   “No” he deadpanned.

He starts clicking his pen. You might be hallucinating it was Morse code, but this was Joaquin. He has taken lengths to make your life miserable, and right now, he was spelling "hot damn" in morse code. With his click pen.

   “Stop it”

   “What?”

   “Stop… spelling stuff in morse code with your pen”

   “I’m just clicking my pen” he looks at you with his adorable puppy eyes. It would work on any other woman, not you.

   “Someday I’m actually going to haul something at you.”

   “And that day would be the happiest day of my life because you’ll be suspended” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. 

You return the same and try to go back to your work.

Full fic out on my masterlist. link here!

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