#i didnt read this back so i apologise

[the-voldsoy]

"'cause you dont get thick skin without getting burnt"

i hate that we have to 'get burned' i hate that after all this time we still have to go through things ourselves and get harmed to learn i hate that there isnt just a solution that we can tell people so they dont have to go through the pain we did but there isnt there just isnt there isnt some "meaning to life" there isnt an answer that can solve it all

but, then again, i think a lot could be solved if we accept that. if we realise that we're searching for something that doesnt exist, that we dont have a reason to live so we just gotta enjoy ourselves !!

i think people hold up the idea of a "meaning to life" too high. they make it seem like a thing that can actually be found and spend all their time, all their life looking for it. and then it all comes crashing down when they realise it just doesnt exist. (tbf, i was guilty of this when i was depressed the first time).

i hate the saying, but you do only live once. you gotta enjoy it! fuck capitalism and all that, forcing us into jobs to survive. fuck the past generations for destroying this world with no care for the future generations -- for us. fuck the people in the world that think this is all ok, that we can just sit back and let this all happen.

but we cant do anything about those people. we just gotta keep moving.

so enjoy the life you have! you only get one! you can do whatever the fuck you want, so long as it doesnt harm anyone (including yourself)!

so enjoy the things you can do. wear that thing that looks terrible, but you like how it feels. buy a soft toy even though you think people will judge you because youre not a kid. paint all weekend. do the bare minimum for you job that only pays you the bare minimum, or the school that barely knows you exist. learn what you want; instruments, languages, art, the details of long dead civilisations, hell its never too late to even learn why exactly the sky is blue.

i dont know where i was going with this tbh i just listened to The Hype by Twenty One Pilots for the first time in a while and had feelings

[arolegos]

im over it but if she messaged me now i would respond in a heartbeat

[hollow-vok]

Ohh im obssesed

[veryberryjelly]

Could I request a 🍸? Prompt 80 with either Roy or Jamie from Ted lasso. Congrats on 1.5k!!

jamie tartt x reader

prompts ; ' will carry you if you're injured '

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !

how you had managed to hurt yourself at a restaurant was absolutely beyond you.

the whole richmond team was packed into Ola's for dinner and jamie had brought you along. which you were more than excited to do because you had tasted sam's cooking before when you had been round for dinner and an actual restaurant would be next level.

but then one moment you had been standing from your table to go to the bathroom, and the next you had been falling into the arms of colin where he had been sat at the next table.

while jamie had been up to try and catch you when he saw you stumbling, he hadn't been able to get there quick enough and you were thankful the room was full of fit footballers with quick reflexes who could catch you.

but you were less concerned about the scene you had just made as opposed to the throbbing in your ankle.

" y' alright, babe ?" jamie questioned as he came to stand beside you, his face full of concern that warmed your heart slightly.

" yeah, 'm fine. thanks colin " if he hadn't caught you, you probably would've caused a bigger scene than you already had.

when you tried to stand on both feet on your own, you almost crumbled again and this time it was jamie's arms that wrapped around you to prevent you from falling to the floor.

he helped you sit yourself back in your chair and you could feel almost every pair of eyes in the restaurant on you, but the only set you could focus on was jamie's as he knelt down infront of you.

you knew it was impossible to hide anything from your boyfriend. he could read you like a book even if you tried to hide it. something that only made it worse.

his hands grazed your ankle as he pulled your shoe off, at which you couldn't help but wince.

the sight of it wasnt much better. you weren't sure how it had become so inflamed and red in less than a minute, but it had.

the sight even made jamie wince, and that was never a good sign.

" think y've sprained your ankle, baby. must've caught it on the table when you got up "

his fingertips were delicate against the skin of your ankle but that didn't stop the furrow of pain that showed up between your brows.

" think 've gotta get you home, sweetheart. get some ice on this "

he stood from the floor, keeping your shoe in his hand because he didnt want to see you pained as he tried to put it back on.

he offered his hands out to pull you up from the seat, noticing the way you only put one foot down on the ground.

he helped you hobble out of the restaurant, thanking sam profusely for even inviting you and apologising for having to leave.

the moment you were outside jamie stopped walking and turned to you.

" cars parked two streets down, love " he explained, eliciting a groan from you.

but that feeling of dread was short-lived as you felt jamie's arm around your back and the other behind your knees.

your arms looped around his neck out of pure instinct and before you knew it, jamie was carrying you bridal style towards the car.

" didnt want to embarrass ya infront of the boys " he answered the question you hadn't even asked yet.

you had no response. well, no verbal response. instead, you pressed a kiss onto his cheek and rested your head down against his shoulder, making a mental note to make him breakfast tomorrow morning.

if you could get out of bed without his help.

[i-cant-sing]

I just read part 8 of TTAU and OH MY GOD DO I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! Is just so beautiful <3

and regarding y/n portrait, I can only imagine Baldwin having that portrait as some sort of body pillow, just imagine the poor maid that found him the first time hugging it in his sleep.

I like to imagine- ok maybe i dont LIKE it but i imagine that Baldwin would first be in denial: you are not dead. your body was never found, even if his generals insist that its impossible to find it in the sea/rocky cliff u jumped off. no, u didnt die. you returned to heaven, or maybe God just sent you on another mission to help someone else, cure someone else. so he sets off on a world wide search for you, but ofc, all his efforts are for naught. he still doesnt give up hope. he's breaking down at night, when he's alone, sitting in front of your portrait, crying, begging you to return, begging God to return his angel to him. He needs you- please, please come back. He'll apologise, he'll make everything right again, just please- come back.

Each day that you dont return, he breaks down more. Every moment away from you further cements the reality- you're not coming back. Mentally, he's hanging on by a thread. The servants, the knights have heard their king's heart wrenching sobs, they hear him begging to your portrait- to come back, that he's sorry! They've seen his pitful state, disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, blubbering lips, hollow cheeks, he's lost weight. At this point, they're trying to calm him down, trying their earnest to find you, even your body- just to give him some closure, because they fear- they fear that Baldwin might go blind from crying so much.

It haunts them. Baldwin's sobs, his tears. But its even more terrifying when he stops crying. Radio silence. They look at him, and he's facing your portrait with a hundred yard stare. There's nothing behind his once bright blue eyes.

He's in this catatonic state, as if everything inside him has died with all those tears.

[halarealmadridd]

your touch

pairing. jude bellingham x reader genre. angst to fluff warnings. fighting, cursing request. Hii i love ur work, can you write something about jude and you getting into a really really big argument, it's about him letting other fans/or girls kiss his cheek or something for a photo and him doing nothing about it, And so you two dont talk for 2-3 days, and you guys live in the same house, he didnt even try to apologise and he thinks hes right, But after a week or smth he noticed he missed your touch and other things so he apologized by writing a big big letter for when you wake up, since he has practice early in the morning and you still sleep author’s note. this request is so good! thank you sm lovely i hope you enjoy 🩵

you had no problem with jude giving out hugs, handshakes or something along the lines of those, but kissing is where you drew the line. you couldn’t stand someone else kissing your man, and him doing nothing about it. unfortunately, that was the reality you had to face today.

chilling in your bed, you scrolled through tiktok, until you found a video with a fan kissing jude’s cheek for a picture. the worst thing happened when you checked the comments. they were full of people saying that they shared the same experience, jude kissing their cheek. you were already fuming, but the attitude of those girls was your last straw.

storming out of the room, you were met with a confused boyfriend stating at you with adorable puppy eyes. they almost make you give in, but you refused.

“jude, what the fuck is this” you angrily exclaimed, while shoving the phone in his face to make sure he sees the video.

“that’s just what they asked for, no feelings involved” jude explained, gobbling down a tube of cookie dough ice cream.

“no feelings involved? do you think i give a fuck about that? you let astral stranger kiss you?” you roared, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“baby calm down, this is nothing serious”

“nothing serious? we have talked about this earlier, i said i don’t want anyone kissing you in any form” you shouted, tears brimming your eyes.

the audacity jude had to just laugh at you and continue eating the ice cream made you furious.

you rushed to the bedroom, covering yourself in blankets, curling into a ball, sobbing your heart out. you thought that when jude heard you cry, he would come looking for you, but no, he stayed there, sitting on the couch, eating the last piece of his ice cream.

you ended up crying yourself to sleep. the next morning you woke up to an empty cold bed. you figured jude was sleeping on the couch.

the next few days went over with neither of you speaking to each other, because apparently in jude’s mind, he was in the right. jude could be a silly person sometimes, but this was just a whole different level of silliness that he had never shown yet.

finally jude came back to his senses and decided to write a full A4 page letter, apologising for his actions. he also placed a bouquet of flowers and candies beside it, in hopes to cheer you up. eventually he left for training, leaving you in the house alone.

when you woke up, you made a bee-line towards the kitchen to make breakfast, but instead of thinking about breakfast, big letter caught your eye.

tears rolled down your face while reading the letter due to the sincerity of it. you wiped your tears and waited for jude to come home.

after a good wait, you heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking. you raced to the door, and jumped into jude’s arms. his face had a tint of confusion painted on it, but it later turned into a big grin.

“whoa, i missed you too” jude whispered into your hair, letting you down.

you placed a kiss onto jude’s lips, and guided him to the kitchen, where you had prepared some pancakes for him.

after gobbling down the pancakes, you and jude popped down onto the couch and started watching your favourite show. however, the show was long forgotten, as you guys ended up just cuddling each other to sleep.

[wonjuii]

Hi, I do think exposing is childish but... I want to warn people. Ever since, like around 2024, august? I was invited to a groupchat, filled with people who posts on tumblr! some were ppl i didnt know about. And.. there is marie. I thought marie was a sweet person at first, didnt talk to her since i didnt know her that much. ever since the month grew, there's a chaos drama about dodo. (i am not bringing it up that much but it will be some information direct to that chaos)

it was around... october? I dont know but lets forget that! past 3 days, marie was being too dramatic, calling me and @awwriri sensitive. (just to tell you that, I can reclaim the slurs since i took an irl test but idk if its a thing since the doctor said "it was to check if i have autism" but it was positive i guess!) It was during the lil-liaa chaos. I didnt want to say the r slur to her but i ended up saying it since there were alot of things happening. As you can tell, i asked permission to say the slur, I was worried if i am really meant to say the slur in the gc. (please anyone dont get uncomfortable!) all of the sudden, she called me insensitive..? I didn't know asking permission is considered impolite or insensitve.. we all had a small talk with marie. everything went a little okay (I assumed.) there are evidences of our small talk.

I apologised... many times. MANY TIMES. "don't be sorry" i will have to be sorry because you bashed on me and riri bc of the slur now the whole server bc of dodo?? U can't be that serious. I also mentioned that everyone deserve to be forgiven! guess marie cant accept that. I thought riri was the owner of the gc, of course i had to ask her permission but no. she wasnt the owner. i was dumb enough to not check who's really the admin of the gc. When we had a small conversation about slurs, she mentioned she cant reclaim the N WORD bc others used it?... Although she used it when she just said it TWICE. (ITS NOT A RACISM SLUR, SHES AFRICAN)

i was just trying to make a conversation, setting up a new type of topic since i got really annoyed and uncomfortable, talking about slurs. But, she continued, wouldnt even stop ending the conversation about it. I even try to convince her to bring riri back to the gc since we all wanted to see how she is.

.... okay. do u like.. hate riri or something? The fact she argued with riri, MAYBE ALMOST EVERY WEEK. MAYBE EVERY DAY. its just disgusting how shes treating the others like shes the oldest of the gc. (she tried to boss me, telling me not to say the slurs bc im insensitve) just so you know, vivi educated me more about slurs so i am not going to say it. (thank you vivi)

The text may not be necessary, but can't you tell how bad she is? if your assuming its bc her education system or shes young, i was 13, i rarely got into fights. (like twice a year.) most likely, she's to cause tons of fights. my screenshots:

(Please press to read, it might be hard for you to see!)

This is a dodo situation. you may not know why dodo didn't explain why she didn't say anything or mention her reason about ignoring to chei. here it is.

basically, she was moody (mood swings i think) I understood dodo, i have frustration issues so i get really annoyed like almost everyday. just to clarify, were not bashing on chei, this is just to show evidence about marie and things she said! more evidence when she started being rude to me... (i didnt clip that part but others may have seen it, she said something like "no, i dont want to ❤️" something like that)

shes basically thinking we dont care...

(im at the corner at the top, replying to her.) You can tell i apologised to her like many times. shes basically saying dodo doesnt deserve to defend herself because shes a bully..? do you realize what ur doing. its childish.

evidence from dodo about marie talking about dodo in her post!

i cant. this is just annoying me so bad. why is she only asking me to block her ??? im so confused. (AGAIN, please press these evidences to read!)

wow.. i just dont get whats her problem with dodo, me and riri atp?..

sigh. marie tsk tsk.. i just cant believe this. i assumed she was going to expose me but i guess not?.... also another information.. me and vini were just trying to calm her down but she started bashing on her too.

Thank you to anyone to might be reading this. Again, exposing seems childish but its the best way to do it. its for others to be warned, incase! tags : @y-unrei @n-americano @i-mmaculatus @sugarish

@miujo @i-kyujin @aestradairio @awwriri @atsubie

@aeraras @rkivefr @daddldee @p-oisn @kissunoo

@florescita @fairytopea @purinkiss @hourlyhoon

@lvioung @obdosant @tzulipss @j-eongs @yeritos

@yonkiibums @hcvenue @bitchey @babyvoxgirlie

@swhore @bloomqi @kiyeuo @chaeryeos @y-vna

@y-urios @aestradairio @aesverse

god all of that tags is MAD!!!

[sweetpianoxoxo]

Flowers and Ice 1 -Cregan Stark

"May the flower remind us why the rain was so necessary" - Xan Oku. The beautiful Rose of house Tyrell is promised to Cregan Stark after the war. She arrives before Cregan comes home, and is forced to make home in the north by herself, despite the challenges of a harsh winter.

Warnings: angst (sorta) to fluff, Cregan + miscommunication, low expectations met with high quality husband, lady tyrell is high maintenance ngl, very sweet rickon, accidentally posted this before it was finished 😔 not fully proofread.

She arrived on the dawn of a very cold morning, and the Tyrell sigil could be seen from banners not far in the distance. The Lord of the north, Cregan stark, had written to Lady Tyrell that he would not be home when she arrived, however his sister and hand would be there to tend to any needs she would have. He had said there was "business" left to attend to and he'd meet her very shortly.

Lord Stark wrote about how he had heard of how noble the Rose of house Tyrell was, and how beautiful he had heard her to be. He said he was excited to unify their houses, and he promised to be a good husband.

She had heard of the nobility and loyalty House Stark portrayed, but she hadn't expected much of a perfect husband in a burly northern man. There would be little romance, little late night cuddling, but atleast she'd be treated better then a wife of the harsh Boltons, or even worse, shipped off to House Gargalen of Dorne, rare to see family again. She would never have the husband of her dreams, it wasn't in the cards of highborn ladies.

Lady Tyrell had not expected to be left alone for moons by herself in the harsh winter months, forced (as the Lords bethrothed) to make an impression decent enough to the northerners by herself; To prove she would be a good lady of Winterfell without even knowing what her duties should be.

She had to prove herself useful to the council, attending every meeting she was permitted to (which wasn't many, as the men didn't trust her judgment nor her loyalty to Winterfell). She understood the hesitations, and she really didn't hate the life she was living, but as days passed, resentment for her bethrothed slowly built up inside of her.

The rose understood she had to make herself comfortable in her new home, she didnt have a husband to lean on, and as sweet and Sara Stark was, Lady Tyrell couldnt leech all her time away from those who had it before.

One full moon after she arrived she met Rickon, the boy of her bethrothed and his dearly departed. He was the sweetest boy and reminded her of her tiniest brother, Cagney Tyrell. Through the months they became rather close, and Lady Tyrell would visit the angel boy every day and every night before bed.

Through her days she kept busy by spending time with the children of the orphanages, and writing letters to her siblings. Half through the second moon, she recieved a letter from her bethrothed.

Dearest Bride,

My men have written and described to me how well you've adjusted to Northern life. They say you've taken interest in the politics of winter, and are even visiting my beloved son. I want to thank you for being so patient as i finish my duty, i cant wait to come and meet you. I have no doubts we will make a perfect pair and Lord and Lady Stark of Winterfell.

Before signing this letter id like to express how much it means to me that you've been so adaptive without my guidance, i truly apologise i couldnt be there on your arrival.

Your bethrothed,

Lord Cregan Stark Of Winterfell.

Lady Tyrell read the letter twice before she crumpled the letter in her hands. How could he be so dimwitted as to think she was doing any of this by choice? This was her duty. It had been made very clear to her that Lord Cregan was going to be her husband. She was going to be the lady of the north weather she wanted or not.

He hadnt even included an update on when he'd be back home. He hadnt asked any questions or provided any knowledge to even try to get and know her.

On the same day she recieved a letter from her younger sister containing petals of sunflowers, chrysanthemum, and forget-me-not. All flowers that represented a sense of loyalty and logevity, adoration, friendship, and true love. The language of flowers would be something ingrained her mind as a daughter of Highgarden.

The letter itself was simply words of sisterly love and and update of all the suitors she had met during her tenth year celebration. The acknowledgemnt of her sisters birthday passsing made The Rose feel low. She couldnt celebrate with her sister, and she herself would never have a birthday filled with flowers again. The realization made her feel small, and disconnected from her family.

On the dawn of the third moon, Sara rushed behind lady Tyrell and nearly screamed her good news. "My brothers returning! Cregan'll be home before supper! They've seen the banners riding to the gates early this morning."

She didnt know weather her heart was soaring or dropping. She was excited in a way. She would be married within the fortnight and all the dreams of a little girl would be fufilled, and her family would be there. In another way she knew she was doomed now. Her life was now tethered to Lord Stark and despite enjoying the company of his sister and little son, she had no idea how her husband would treat her, and she didnt know if the little bits of resentment she held towards him would turn her into a mean wife, a mean mother. That was her fear.

Growing up in the beautiful Highgarden, every lady wishes to be married to a kind gentleman in a sept with a grand party and feast. They had the wish to be treated like a princess by their husbands, and have huge broods of babies that they'd love and take care of every day. Realistically, very little women would live out this dream, but childlike hope would tether onto Lady Tyrell.

With that childlike hope she wished to try and make good with lord Stark. She put on a fine gown and furs to keep her warm. She wore jewelry from her home, including a large pendent with House Tyrells Sigil on it.

She was guided to the front gate with the other highborn men and women to greet the Lord Stark and his hand. They rode in on horses, less than a hundred men in total, the grandest horse being rode by an even grander man. He was burly and wearing layers upon layers of fur. He was disheveled from the ride, and yet still looked regal and attractive.

The men stopped when Lord Stark dismounted his horse, patting it sternly twice in appreciation before making his way to the line of people waiting for him. He met with his sister first, embracing her in a long hug, then stepped in front of Lady Tyrell.

It seemed like everyone held their breaths as they awaited the introductions between their Lord and to-be Lady. The Rose was of course as beautiful as legends claimed, however she had an elegant yet stern look on her face, much different from the kind smile she was said to always wear.

He knelt on one knee beneath her and took her hand in his. "My beautiful bride Lady Tyrell, The rose of Highgarden." He kissed the top of her gloved knuckle. "Im so sorry i couldnt meet your acquaintance before today, believe me when i say my duty brought me no joy in comparison to finally meeting you."

Lady Tyrell simply smiled and nodded her head, raising it as he stood up. "Its an honour to meet you after nearly four moons of being in your home, ive wondered if the wonderful Lord Stark was truly as noble as they say." Her message was delievered with a regal voice and no malice, if anything awe, but Cregan couldve sworn he noticed a little anger in her face.

He then went on too greet his son, the little boy being covered in furs as if a small puffball. This caused the kind smile to peak through her elegant facade and Cregan noticed it. He wondered what he had done wrong to make the Lady even slightly angry with him, they had just met! Had his sister said something that perhaps provoked the delicate sensibilities of a Highgarden Lady? Had the men said something?

There, of course, was a large banquet planned for their return, but as no one had an idea when Lord Stark would be back, it was planned for the morrow. This was no matter to Cregan as it gave him time to court his wife privately, or atleast he presumed.

By the time they had been settled back in their chambers and relaxed for the evening, most of the men whom returned taking their suppers in their chambers and scrubbing the grime off their body. Many others spent their returning hours with ladies of the brothels.

Lord Stark however, was on his way to his bethrothed's chambers. He stood infront of her door for a click of a second, slightly unnerved that there was no one in front of it, not guard nor servent or handmaiden.

He knocked twice, hard. There was no response. It wasnt late enough for her to have retired to sleep. He knocked once to announce his entrance as he opened her door, to find no one there.

The Lord looked around for a bit. Her bed was made with lighter coloured furs and he could see silks underneath. There was paintings of flowers near the hearth, along with a portrait of her family. Her wardrobe was left with one door slightly agape and he could see light coloured silky dresses, a true lady of the Reach.

As he was standing, doors wide open in the center of his bride room, a servent walked in, then gasped and bowed as she realized who she'd walked in on. "M'ilord, Im sorry i didnt see you." She trailed awakwardly for a second. "Could i help you with something?"

"Where is my bethrothed? Lady Tyrell?" The servent smiled gently at the mention of the Rose. The woman moved to the side of her room to close the blinds as she spoke.

"Lady Tyrell is where she is every night at this time, with your son Lord Rickon in his nursery. They always spend some time before bed per Lord Rickons request." Cregan's heart nearly burst out of his chest.

His sister had wrote to him that his bethrothed had become close to his Son, but he didn't know they had seen every night together. He travelled to the nursery swiftly, and was proud to see his best guards standing in front of the door. He opened the door quietly, attempting to avoid creaks purposely to watch without them knowing, atleast for a second.

He saw the beautiful Tyrell sitting on the floor, gown perfectly sprawled our around her, and a visibly drowsy Rickon laying in her lap, playing with her fingers. His bride was singing, very quietly to his Son. He didnt recognize the hymm, but as be watched in adoration, his foot stepped forward on a loose floorboard and caused a loud creak, causing his son and bride to look at him quickly.

Rickon looked restored of energy as he jumped up and ran to his fathers side, however his betrothed turned her face stoic again, and stood up to curtsey. "My Lord."

"My lady. My sweet wife." She grimaced slightly and he was taken aback.

"Not yet." Her voice was strong and both words were enunciated. He smiled gently, his eyebrows however set in a frown. Rickon cut off his stare with a loud giggle.

"Father, aunt Sara told me you were to marry my lady! Is it true? Will she be my new step-mother?" Cregan looked to her, almost unsure how to answer. He would never take a bride unwillingly, however the writing was already on the wall for them. They were to be wed.

"Yes, my boy." He started. "Lady Tyrell and I are to be wed, although she will only be your step mother if she'll have me." Perhaps he didnt phrase it properly. He meant that she would be his stepmother if she wanted. If she wanted to be more then married through law, she was more then welcome.

Lady Tyrell didnt hear it this way. Her instinct was that if she refused to be a dutiful wife, she'd be no longer permitted to visit Rickon. It didnt make sense, logically of course, he had written about how much he appreciate their bond in his absence, but maybe she was wrong.

Her face only turned slightly darker and Cregan panicked internally. What had he said? She then knealt to her knees again and opened her arms for Rickon. "Ill be getting to my chambers now, sweet boy, i must bathe and write a letter to my mother, ill see you tommorow morning." He ran up to embrace her for a hug and kissed her on the cheek causing her heart to melt.

"I love you My Lady" he whispered not-so quietly in her ears.

Lady Tyrell nearly broke down in tears at the proclamation and decided then she would do whatever Lord stark needed of her to stay closer to Rickon.

As she rised, she looked towards the Lord stark to cursey and take her leave. He, however, grabbed onto her arm gently to stop her. "Please, let me call for a maid, and we can walk back to your chambers." She accepted the offer but didn't meet his apologetic eyes. A young maid came in the nusery quickly, and the lord and lady left just as quick.

As soon as they were out of earshot from the guards, Lord Stark stopped them and took her to a windowsill opening to talk more privately, without potentially intruding in her space.

"May i ask my lady, have i offended you?" She took a deep breath, debating on if she'd tell the truth or mellow in her own anger.

"Perhaps it's just the sensitivities a hightower woman." She dismissed, still not looking at him fully. Perhaps he really wasn't sure what he did to offend her, perhaps it was really just normal for them. "Im sure we'll make a fine pair, Lord Stark, i just need to become more accustomed to the northern additude, im sure."

He almost wanted to be offended, but the bits of emotional intelligence he had been gifted from his departed wife and sister made him understand that something deeper was at play.

"Please talk to be bride." He pleaded, taking her face in his hands, perhaps rougher than he had intended, but that was the northern additude, not leaving their wives to be angry at them for the rest of the marriage.

"I wouldn't let you be angry at me for our lives. We are to be wed, husband and wife, lady and lord, and that's more than a political duty to me." He looked her in the eyes. She noticed how he was grey and stormy and full of promise.

"You called for my arrival in winterfell three moons ago, yet you only arrive today. You make me wait, alone in a new environment where the only person to trust me is his little sister. I have braved the beginning of my first northern winter by myself."

He paused. He looked ashamed. He had assumed it would be preferred to adjust alone, but somehow, he hadn't taken the harshness it may have been seen as. He wanted to speak but she continued.

"On top of that, you sent me one letter. One letter to thank me for patience and nothing else. You didn't ask me how i was or tell me when i could expect you. Forgive me for feeling a bit-"

"Im sorry, my Lady," he knealt below her in a sign of apology, his head ducking before he looked back into her eyes. "My intention was never to make you feel as if you were alone, i simply presumed you'd need time to adjust, i should've known to be here. I'm so sorry. " She took a deep breath.

"Lord Stark-"

"Do not call it Highgarden sensitivities, its a failure of myself as a husband-"

"Your not my husband yet."

"I am yours, however. I'm to protect you, and i should've been here to guide you. I'm sorry i didn't wait to invite you here. It was my assumption that perhaps the mix of a new enviormwnt and a new husband would be too much, i see i was wrong im sorry-"

"Lord stark!" She interuppted him, pulling him up to her level again. "I forgive you. Perhaps i was too hasty with my judging your character. You are a noble man, and maybe i should've taken a bit more initiative to explain how i felt. A man is not a mindreader."

Lord Stark smiled and brushed her hair out of her face. "Thank you. I shall be worthy of your forgivness until they day i shall die." The Rose nearly wanted to blush at his flattery. However, she didn't. She just had a coy smile painted on her lips.

Cregan took her hand tentatively and continued their walk to her chambers. They walked in silence, excusing a servents greeting them, until they were in front of her door.

He left with a kiss on her hand and a very sweet goonight, with a promise to have a servent collect her to break their fast together, jf she so wanted.

The minute the door closed behind Lady Tyrell she strode to her desk to pick up and quill and place it on a piece of partchment the maid must've laid out.

"Dearest Mother,

I may be happy in winterfell yet."

Thankyou so much for reading, i love you all so much ♡ part two coming soon

[hearts4mica]

Yes, Im a telepath. So what?

Batfam x Telepath Batsib Reader! (Request)

Batsib!Reader was born with telepathic powers

(or that’s what they thought) since they never met their parents because their parents were afraid of what would happen and they decided to leave Batsib!Reader to figure it out on themselves.

My masterlist if you wanna check it out

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

September 1st 2001

You woke up normally as any other day in your boring life. You lazily stretch out of bed and grabbed your cup of water. You sit down thinking of your life choices then- “3,2,1”

Suddenly Dick your big brother bursts through the door.

“Morning birdie! Excited for your first day of school?” He said in an excited tone as he started trashing your closet looking for- a coloring book?

“What are you looking for?” You ask plainly even though you already know it because duh powers.

“Nothingg” He answered quickly and left the room. Does he think im dumb?

anyways you don’t care so you just stood up grabbed your clothes and went to the bathroom

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

Anyways now im here eating breakfast with these idiots i call brothers and Alfred!

“So…excited for your first day?” Tim asks. No i’m not.

“Why are yall acting as if it’s my first day in kindergarten its just Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters a place where everyone is like me” you continue eating your food normally

“Just ignore Drake he is dumb. And Grayson is just excited that you are starting in a new school with new people” Damian says while sitting down on the chair.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

This place was made for people like me.

As your walking around this place you cant help but notice that this place feels welcoming.

“Hello are you new here?” An unkown voice asks you.

You turn around and look at this new person

“Yes i am who are you?” “I am Professor Charles Xavier i run this place.” Oh so he is the famous Charles Xavier? Good to know

“Well it was nice to meet you professor Charles but i have to go to my classes.”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

Now im in my first class sitting beside a dude called “Angel”? Well atleast thats what i think since thats whats in his head-

“Hey” this angel dude looks at you

You just blankly stare at him

He continues looking at you but as he sees that you arent answering he continues.

“Ahem… i didnt catch your name?” What the-

“I didnt throw it” This dude

He continues “My name is Warren Kenneth Worthington III” long ass name

“I am Reader! Wayne”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

The school day finally ends and now you’re waiting for Alfred to pick you up.

You see the car park infront of you so you get in and Damian is inside

“Hello Dami” you give him a side hug as you sit down “Hello Alfred”

“Hello young Master/Miss” Alfred greets you happily

“Hello sister. How was your first day at school?” Damian asks you blankly

“It was…good? I guess.”

“Well young Master/Miss prepare yourself since Master Dick is excited and he’s gonna ask you a bunch of questions when we get back to the manor” Alfred says

“Yeah i kinda imagined it”

Maybe a new school isnt that bad after all?

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

A/N

Thanks for reading! I apologise if its not that good since its my first time writing a fanfic!

A special thanks for the person that requested this for me i hope you enjoyeed!

Requests are open!

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

[highonmarvel]

heyy lov ur fics. saw you wanted some bucky recs so i got one. how about like bucky and reader have been dating for 2-3 months and he's always sweet to her and always making sure she was happy. he even promised to get rid of almost all of his weapons. but then he secretly didnt. he still had them, for "saftey purposes" he couldnt let anything happen to u. so he kept them in a secret room along with some pictures of u he took when he was observing(stalking) you before he entered into ur life -P1

that’s actually such a scary idea, i love it. okay, okay, you had a lot so apologises if it’s a bit different than you were expecting, but i tried, and i had fun! let me know if you like it! and my sweet sister @thehydraethereal, tell me what you think.

The Sun

Bucky Barnes: Bucky’s world revolves around you, The Sun, his sunshine, and he’ll do just about anything to make you happy, but everything to keep you safe.

CONTENT WARNING: This is a dark fic, please read content warnings here! 18+!

You’ve always been more of a glass half-full type of person, but with Bucky, you’ve really turned into a ray of sunshine—he just brings that out in you, treating you as precious as every breath he takes and as vital to life as the Sun itself. He said that to you once, when you asked why he calls you sunshine while laying your head in his lap, smiling in bliss as he stroked your hair. He said, “My world revolves around you.”

Even after three months, he still treats you with the same respect and gentleness and love and patience as that very first day, if not even more. There was only once you two had had a serious disagreement—it wasn’t really an argument, no one was angry, but it certainly could’ve been a massive dealbreaker for you.

Bucky never spoke much of his childhood, his teenage years, or even his adult ones, he only really went three years into the past, max, but you had pieced together he’s been through a lot, and so you never pushed him, but you made sure to make it clear you’d be there for him if and when he was ready to talk about it. There was a lot he did that showed you he was a war vet, and that as reluctant as he may be to admit it, he was suffering from some form of PTSD—he doesn’t like watching espionage films, or even movies with too much violence (which you don’t mind skipping, you don’t care too much for them either way), he’s sensitive to loud noises and a few times he’s jolted you out of your slumber with his nightmares, but he claims they’re much better with you than before. The metal arm also fascinated you—he said it’s made of vibranium, and you frowned at the thought of why he would need such a strong arm, but that you managed to get used to. What you couldn’t get used to, however, was his weaponry.

You had been sitting on the couch together when there was a thud from the next room over, and Bucky jumped up, soldier stance and everything, ready to go check it out. You were about to assure him it was nothing, tell him you forgot to close a window and a breeze probably knocked something over, when he slid a knife out of his boot and your breath caught in your throat. You followed the silver glint with your eyes as he stalked around the corner and then disappeared for a few moments.

“Birdie slammed against the window,” he said, relieved with a small smile, and you could hardly believe the juxtaposition between his use of the term ‘birdie’ while he held a knife securely in his hand. When you didn’t respond, staring at him with wide eyes, his brows turned downward in show of concern, and his voice came sincerely, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? It was nothing.” He incorrectly assumed the noise had scared you, but quickly came to understand when he noticed your gaze fixed on the knife.

“This?” he asked, casually, spinning the knife on his finger, but when you jumped back, he quickly hid it behind his back and cast his head downward in shame. He hadn’t meant to scare you, and though he felt bad, he couldn’t help but feel a little offended you’d think his arsenal was something to be afraid of. He’d never lay a hand on you, let alone a tool, why were you scared? Did you not trust him? He only kept this stuff to keep you safe. And besides, you knew about his slight paranoia with defence, so why did this catch you off guard? Sure, maybe the knife in the boot was a little too much for you to handle, but you seemed to take more issue with its existence rather than his convenient hiding.

“Sorry,” he mumbled an apology, managing to look up at you. “I didn’t mean to scare you, just had to make sure everything was alright.” He offered a weak smile in hopes of setting you at ease, but it faded when you stood up to confront him, shaking slightly.

“Why do you have a knife?” you asked in horror, voice raising in pitch. “What�� do you just— do you just always have that on you?”

It’s the knife you’re worried about. Darling, if you knew the half of it.

“Protection,” he answered simply, innocently, not understanding your reaction.

“What— what else do you have? And— and in your house? You have to get rid of it!”

At any other time he would have pushed back on this (gently, of course), but in your frantic state he knew it wouldn’t serve either of you very well. He really hadn’t expected you to start hyperventilating about it. He switched to soothing you, holding you in his arms and promising he would get rid of all that, that you could feel safe… even though in his mind, his weapons were to make you feel safe, to keep you safe.

There’s a cupboard in Bucky’s house that’s always locked, and he tells you it’s just tools and some clutter he needs to clear out. But what you don’t know is he’s still got his shit in there. In any other circumstance, he would do anything you asked of him, but in this case, he got the impression you didn’t understand, that you were a little naïve when it came to this sort of stuff, like you’d always been sheltered and protected in a way that never needed violence. But he knows what the real world is like, and he knows what he’s got to do to keep you safe.

That was a few months ago. Now, trying to watch a film from the 40s—something with Jimmy Stewart, to grant Bucky a little nostalgia and tick another movie off your cinephile list—you both doze off, but you wake up before him. He usually wakes up earlier than you and falls asleep later, so you rarely see him asleep, only once you had to wake him up from the vivid nightmare, but here, now, he’s peaceful—his eyes are shut, his breathing is steady, his muscles aren’t tensed, this is the first time you’ve seen him lose himself to unconsciousness, and your heart swells at the realisation he feels safe enough to be so vulnerable around you.

As much as you would have loved to watch him breathe, after all the snacks you ate during the movie, your hands are sticky and you can’t really fall back asleep without washing them. On the way to the bathroom, you pause just before the door. The cupboard Bucky keeps his tools in is slightly ajar, it’s always been locked. And you’re not sure what compels you to head over to the door, but you carefully open it, wincing when it creaks slightly, before gasping at the scene.

He said he’d get rid of them! Not only are there multiple sharp blades of varying lengths, there’s more ammo that you could ever imagine needing, pistols, and a shotgun on the wall, you’re pretty sure you spot a fucking grenade, but maybe most terrifyingly is a mask. If this really was for safety (you’re really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt here) why the fuck did he have a mask? Like he was hiding behind it. He wouldn’t need to hide his identity from an intruder, he’d only need to if he was trying not to get caught if he was doing something wrong, if he was—

Bucky drops the bat to catch you before you hit the ground, wincing at the sight of your limp body in his arms. Fuck, he had stuck up a few more pictures of you earlier that day, and clearly forgot to lock the closet. The guilt from hurting you is enough to make him sick, but he’s got to figure out how to savage this.

If he just sets you right back on the couch and puts on some kind of thriller movie, you’ll think it was a dream when you wake up again, right? That your subconscious mind was taking in what was playing on the TV and affecting your sleep. That makes sense, that makes perfect sense, and that’s for you to figure out on your own; he won’t need to explain it or answer questions because really all it was was a bad dream, and he knows about those, you know he has experience with them, you’ll believe him when he tells you how real they can feel—you’ve seen it—and trust that everything’s alright, and he’s good to keep you safe.

After an hour, you begin to stir, and he redirects his gaze from being hyper focused on you to watching the film intently, though this far in he doesn’t know anything about the plot and hopes you don’t ask too many questions about it.

When he hears your quiet moans indicating you’re awake now, and feels your stretch beside him, he looks back at you. “Mornin’, Sunshine,” he teases, hoping you’ll giggle and say something about not realising it was dark outside. But you don’t, instead you startle and recoil back slightly, eyeing him suspiciously.

He forces his brows to furrow in confusion as he sets his half empty bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table. He tries to shift towards you but when you shift back, he sighs and stays in place.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, his tone sincere and soothing. But he can tell you don’t buy it.

“You said you’d get rid of them!” you yell, and he winces slightly—you’ve never raised your voice at him, and if you’re this worked up over it it might take him a little more patience than anticipated to do some damage control.

“Get rid of what?” he asks. The best thing to do here is just play dumb.

“Your— your weapons! There’s— there’s so many of them, you said you’d get rid of them!”

“Baby, baby, baby,” he coos when you start breathing heavily, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “You just had a bad dream, okay? It’s alright…”

“No!” you shriek, kicking him away from you. “In the— in the closet!”

“What closet?”

“The— the one with the tools!”

“There’s nothing in there, sweetheart.”

“Then open it.”

He freezes for a second—he hadn’t expected you to ask that. “I don’t— I don’t know where the key is.” Fuck. He’s fucked. He knew it from the moment he hesitated, and his stuttering further solidified his guilt in your mind. His eyes grew just a little wider as he waited for you to respond, hardly breathing. You can read him like an open book, and he knows he can’t backtrack the few small ticks that set you on the scent.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him for a moment, but blink, and then nod, slowing your breaths down and directing your stare to the floor. “Alright,” you say, and Bucky himself can’t help but sigh in relief.

“I’m sorry you had a bad dream,” he coos as he shifts closer to you, and this time, you don’t shift away. He puts his arms around you and comfortingly rubs your shoulder, resting his head on top of yours.

You don’t buy it for a second.

That’s way too specific a dream for you to have months after even thinking about that stuff, and you’re not fucking stupid, you can tell what’s real and what’s not, and that was real. But for the time being, it seems easier to appease him. Maybe you really did imagine it… you doubt it, though, especially when Bucky’s body went rigid in response to your request. Even if you didn’t see what you thought you did, he’s definitely hiding something in that closet.

His phone rings, and he sighs, apologising as he carefully unwraps himself from you, reaching into his pocket to answer the phone as he stands up. “Hello?” There’s a few quick and low words from whoever’s on the other end and the groan he lets out allows you to guess it’s something Avengers-related. Though he isn’t an Avenger anymore (he gave up all violence, even in the name of justice) Sam does occasionally call him up to ask for advice on espionage matters or blueprints or just his thoughts on whatever’s going on.

“I’ve got to run, sweetheart; Sam’s being an asshole and I need to do some damage control,” he chuckles, and looks back down at you hesitantly, waiting for a response of some kind, but you’re quiet, arms crossed over your chest, slouched on the couch and looking at the floor, almost petulant but more… pensive. And that worries him.

“I can— I can stay if you want me to—”

“No,” you answer so casually it’s like something in him shatters. Sure, you’re not always grovelling at his feet when he opens the door but you’ve never been so nonchalant about him leaving to go take care of stuff. Even if it wasn’t all that sincere, you’d still make a little scene out of missing him so much. “I’ll see you later.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it, pressing his lips into a thin line as he nods, and then sighs.

He can’t leave you alone here: you’ll either run the second you can or hurt yourself trying to figure out how to get the cupboard open again. In both cases he won't be able to keep you safe, you’ll get hurt. But you’re also not yourself right now, and he doesn’t want to come on too strong and risk scaring you off for good. Not that he’d ever let you get away.

So he leaves, locks the door, but doesn’t get in his car. Usually he would grant that you’d be able to see the red flag there but you seem hyper focused on getting to his shit and he surmises he can get away with it. Between the tall plants covering his windows, he can just about make you out, sitting completely still on the couch for a few moments, it’s like you’re not even breathing. He subconsciously finds himself holding his breath as well—Are you waiting for him to start the car? Have you noticed he didn’t take his wallet?—narrowing his eyes at you, trying to anticipate your next move.

60 seconds, and you jump up.

***

You take a very quick look around the lounge, just to really make sure he left, and with no sign of him, you start off down the corridor again to his cupboard. It’s locked, and you know better than to even try to look for the key. But you have to do something: how could you live with yourself knowing that either you’d have broken up with your seemingly perfect boyfriend for no reason at all, or ever feel at peace again when there’s this heavy suspicion just hanging there?

You don’t know how you ever learnt it but you pull a pin from your hair and unfold it, closing one eye and sticking your tongue out slightly as you wriggle it around in the key slot, muttering “Please, please, please, please, please” to yourself over and over as you strain to hear for the clicks. One, two, three clicks and it opens! And you have no idea how you did it but it’s done now. You quickly open the door and gasp. You really shouldn’t be surprised—you know it wasn’t a dream—but the double confirmation really takes the wind out of you, and you feel betrayed. He lied to you, why did he lie to you? But there’s something else you didn’t notice before. On the inside of the door, polaroids of you that you know are before you met him are hung up haphazardly with messy tape—and they’re pictures of you doing mundane tasks, your everyday life. With shaking hands, you reach towards one that you’re afraid is of you in the shower, tears collecting on your lashes. As you reach for it, your elbow hits a shotgun and it falls and fires.

You scream as you jump back, and away from the door, you come face to face with Bucky at the end of the hallway, looking horrified as if it’s you who’s doing what you’re not supposed to.

Why the fuck is this thing even loaded if it’s just sitting around? These are assault rifles and deadly tools just at the ready, all the time.

Bucky carefully calls your name, and you turn on your heel and sprint towards the bedroom door at the opposite end of the corridor, but he catches up to you way too easily. He grabs you and slams your head against the doorway, causing you to black out and fall to the floor.

***

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh fuck! How was he so careless not once but twice? What if you’d gotten seriously hurt or even killed? And he’s mad at himself but he can’t help but feel mad at you, too. Why didn’t you just leave it alone? Sure, he fucked up by forgetting to lock it but why on Earth did you push for it? It was locked this time, why were you so obsessed with this!?

He takes a few deep breaths to stop himself from launching into a panic attack. He can fix this, it’s fine, you just need a bit of time to calm down, but he has a feeling if you took a relationship ‘break’ he’d never find you again. So you can’t leave, you just need to be somewhere safe.

Bucky’s basement is hardly even a room—that’s why he keeps his weapons upstairs, and so that they’re always there when he needs them. It’s small, but big enough for a few shelves and a twin-sized mattress, it’s more a very temporary storm shelter—or a panic room, to a weaker person. There aren’t any windows, and so the thought of getting you situated there for an indefinite amount of time isn’t pleasant. He always gets up before you, and, yes, part of that is nature, and part of it is his awe for your peaceful sleeping form, a level of serenity in darkness he’s not sure he’d ever be able to achieve. The sun peaks in through the curtains and lightly bronzes your skin for a few minutes until you stir and wake up to him beside you, pure adoration in his eyes. And every morning, he knows he’d give up the light of day forever if he could only wake up next to you one more time.

***

You grimace as you wake up, feeling uncomfortable—the room feels somehow cold yet stuffy, and the mattress you’re laying on feels scruffy and a little old. You toss and turn a few times before you realise that this is real. When the thought hits, you rip your eyes open, shooting upright to scan your surroundings while your breathing gets heavier and heavier.

Your eyes land on Bucky sitting at the bottom of the stairs with a book in one hand, his metal one mindlessly twirling a thick chain between his fingers, tightening and loosening it. To test, you tug on your leg and he automatically grips tighter to the restraint, even before noticing you’re up.

“Hey, sweetheart…” he coos, setting his book down and letting go of the chain. He crouches down and sits at the bottom of the mattress, coaxing you with soothing rubs on your shin like you’re a mental patient or a wild animal, unpredictable. “How’re you feeling?”

How are you feeling? How are you feeling?

“Are you out of your mind!?” you shriek, and kick at him—it doesn’t hurt him, but he does raise his palm from your leg. Dropping his voice to a sweeter tone, he tries to calm you down. “You’re alright, you’re safe, everything’s okay, baby.”

He reaches out a hand to stroke your face but you slap it away, looking up at him with wild eyes and messy hair, you let your tone drop to a dangerous low as you warn, “Don’t… touch me.”

He gives a disappointed sigh but eventually tuts to himself in agreement. You just need to get this out of your system, it’ll be fine.

But it’s not. It’s not fine, and it’s taking a toll on him. You’ve never been like this before, so angry and irrational and erratic and unpredictable, but that’s not what he minds. He can deal with you throwing insults his way, swinging at him (in vain, of course) or resorting to silence, but what really starts to tick him off is when you refuse to eat. He let it slide the first day, tried to play it cool and just left the tray down for you, but he went upstairs and nervously paced back and forth until the morning. When he came down with breakfast, he discovered you hadn’t so much as touched your meal, not even the tray itself, and though he asked you in an even tone to eat something (and got nothing but silence in return) it was worrying him, he nearly wanted to plead with you, but he knew if he cracked you’d see a weak spot and keep ramming it until you get your way, and he can’t have that.

It’s the third day now, and he finally decides he needs to feed you. He sits down in front of you and pulls the tray towards him, scooping up some rice on a plastic spoon. He holds the food to your lips but you keep them shut tight, even when he gently pokes your mouth a few times. He’s sure you can see the stress you’re causing him: he’s hardly sleeping, as shown by the bags under his eyes, and he can’t even go for a jog to clear his head in case you do something crazy while he’s gone. With a deep breath, he sets the spoon down and leans back, considering his next move. Maybe you’d drink a smoothie. Not ideal but better than nothing.

“Alright,” he huffs as he stands up. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna make you a smoothie.”

He’s only just turned his back when he hears clattering, and when he looks back to you, you’ve got fury etched onto your features and the food he so carefully and lovingly prepared for you is strewn across the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” he bellows, and backhands you, sending you to the floor. With your mouth agape, you clutch your cheek and look up at him in shock. He’s never even raised his voice at you, let alone yelled, let alone lay a finger on you. “Just fucking listen to me! Eat!” He kicks the tray further back and you startle, paralysed by pure shock.

He takes a deep breath in, and a long huff out, clenching his fists at his sides. His blue eyes you had once thought of as calm oceans are ablaze, he’s shaking with anger, and his voice quivers as he tries to speak in a level tone to you. “I… am going to make you a smoothie, and you are going to drink it, or you’ll never see the sun again.”

When he slams the door shut behind him, you finally allow tears to fall. You don’t know what that threat means—will he never let you out? Will he kill you? At first you didn’t think so, even when he held you down as you screamed and kicked, but you never thought he’d hit you either, you never thought he was capable of such rage, and though he kept it relatively under control, you saw what that was. It wasn’t just ire, it was like flames licked his entire being, engulfing him and lighting him up. While you thought of him as your Sun, now, that was for a different reason—now, he feels like the actuality of the star: unpredictable and unbearably dangerous, but… necessary for survival, and inescapable.

✪

[my beloved taglist; @cowboysnbugs, @buckys-wintersoldier, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10]

[hel1nn]

And suddenly everything changed ೀ⋆｡

Ch.2 a date before marriage? Previous:3 next.

𐔌 . ⋮ satoru gojo x fem zenin!reader .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ : Listen to kingston while reading ⭑.ᐟ

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ : fluffyy | 18+ smut mdni | eventual smut | arranged marriage | reader is 22 and gojo is 25 | reader had a lonely life untill satoru came | abuse (gojo did nothing here.) | trauma | sprinkles of angsts | jealousy | flashbakes | soft!satoru | soft!reader | loss of virginity | self harm | first time falling in love | reader has two sisters. | Reader belongs to zenin clan. | Idiots to lovers | reader doesn't find satoru annoying since she was alone her whole life. | Insecurities | 𖦹ׂ ₊˚⊹⋆

౨ৎ Summery : spending your whole life with feeling of being useless and a waste of space,even worse that your two sisters had cursed energy but you didn't, made you wanted to kill yourself so many times but it stopped when a marriage proposal was sented to gojo clan about marrying you or one of your two sisters. Your sisters were so powerful and beauty with brain so why did satoru gojo choosed you? Moodboard | series masterlist

A/N : IDK WHAT TO SAY ABOUT THIS AND SORRY IF I MADE MISTAKES ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Few days has been passed since you met satoru. You can't help but think about him almost every night. Today when you woke up your one of your sister came up to you saying that satoru wants to talk with you, now here you are talking with him on your fathers phone. You locked your room's door for now.

"may i know...what do you wanna talk about"

You said to satori whos behind the screen. You could here a soft chuckle before he spoke

"is there any problem with me talking with my future wife"

"..."

Your face started to heat up..he was already calling you his future wife. Slightly freaking out you nervously answer,cheeks tinted in light pink

"n-no no its not like that listen-'

"no need to freak out i am not maddd" you don't know why but you could literally hear the pout on his lips from the phone,you slump down sighing

"i mean...i thought you'd get disappointed slightly.." you mumble to the phone "but please tell me if you need something.."

"sneak out of your estate at 5:30 I'll come to pick you up"

You stare at the screen dumb founded, before you could say anything he started to speak again

"no excuses i want to see you waiting for me in the nearby park"

The call ended with a click , your eyes shot up in realization. He wants you to sneak out of your clan and meet him...welll. you were anxious why did he wanted to meet you today. Does he wants end this marriage- nope. He wouldn't want to see you for that at least thats what you thought. Your brain not working for a damn minute. ..you don't even have your own clothes that you could wear on special occasions,all the clothes you have were what you wear in your house and nothing more...

── .✦

You managed to sneak out of your estate since no one really checked up on you. Waiting for satoru to come. You don't know what to say about your outfit..you just put a hoodie and pants on. Thats all you got you don't care how you look like right now. You stood there waiting for satoru,from looking around you could tell its already passed 5:30 or something, just to see a black car stop Infront of you. There satoru came out of the car,he was wearing a long coat with turtle neck sweater,black slacks and men's boots. This time there are fancy shades resting on the bridge of his nose, letting you see his blue irises,they were just as bright as the stars you gazed at nights. Satoru smiled seeing you stare at him, snapping his fingers Infront of your face. You stare dumbfounded at him,as realization hits you that how close you two were you take a step back,your face heating up in embarrassment "s-sorry i didnt meant to stare at you like a creep-" you start to apologise for staring at him for too long but ut was too late.

"don't be sorry i know you like what you see right neowwww" satoru teased, laughing softly. He lets you have your personal space. You looked away shyly. Not knowing what to and then the important question pops up in your mind.

"uhm so...why did you wanted me to sneak out of my..place.."

"i am gonna take you out with me."

You stare at satoru dumbfounded for the who knows how many time...he wants to take you out with him sneakily..? He could just tell your father and take you out with him but why like this?

"you know..you could just ask my dad that you want to take me out with you.." you trail of, giving him a small smile just to remind him you don't want to sound rude.

"but its way more fun like this.." satoru chimes, already pulling you with him in the car,you try to say something but thennn you were in satorus car, sitting on the passenger seat.

You just let yourself have some fun, cause nothing was wrong with it. No one really checks up on you so you didn't had to worry about anything happening in your place. The silence was somehow comfortable,you don't know. But then satoru breaks it.

"oh..i forgot to take your number.." satoru said, his hand already offering his phone to you so you could save your number in it.

"actually i don't have a phone.." you mumble and satoru hears it immediately. You didn't really needed a mobile phone since your used to spend your life while watching all this drama. Your dad didn't bothered to get you one too. Satoru was slightly surprised,but then he chuckles

"no problem" you didn't know what he was thinking again,but you knew there would be something by seeing his little smile. And you were completely RIGHT. satoru stopped his car Infront of a shopping mall. Satoru is a little bit too much kind to you. You think since everyone always told you that being kind to you is as hard as a rock. But satoru is being kind to you as if it was never hard...like everyone told you. Satoru's big hand grabs yours again, you had never held any men's hand like this until today. Satoru's hands were warm. You try to say something like where are we going but satoru shuts you up with a playfull remark. You don't know when but a small smile appeared on your lips. Satoru took you to every shop you landed a eye on. You protested that you don't need clothes or some things this much but didn't listened to you. Making you both ending carrying bags of things he gifted you. But a thing was still left. Buying you a phone that you didn't asked for. But he will get you right now anyway. Now here you are, standing Infront a fancy restaurant after a dinner with satoru, where no one took you to. You stooe there with a new phone in your hand...like it was really your phone.. a smiling satoru standing Infront of you.

"i don't need this gojo-"

"satoru." He corrected and you broke into a small smile. Shaking your bead gently

"satoru...i don't really need a phone"

"but you wouldn't be able to talk to if you don't have a phone.." oh. You finally accepted the phone so you could talk with satoru when you're home. The ride to your estate was full of you smiling. You don't remember when you were this much happy last time. His warm hand held yours,long fingers tracing the scars on your wrists. You let him do that because it was comforting. A warm gesture from him. When both of you arrived there wqs horror painted on your face. Where are you going to keep all the things satoru gave you today..?

"g- satoru..." You mumble, tugging at his pinky,he looks at you with a smile, majestic as always. You blush slightly but continue

"can you keep these things? I'll do something about it later i guess-"

"no need to worry, I'll keep these things and after our wedding I'll buy you a closet." Satoru's fingers gently squeezed your cheek. You sigh. A red hue coming up from your neck. that night satoru teleported you too your room. Your phone already has his number in it. Leaving you for Tonight again but with a warmth inside your chest again.

Taglist : @chilichopsticks @milolop @kuroosvow @bypanana @hoseokslefteyebrow @sorcerersseestars @ssetsuka @megumisthirdog @certainduckanchor @myahfig4 @officialholyagua and idk why i can't tag @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin :(

[smolweeblets]

𝐒/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬:

Featuring headcanons for Karlach, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, and Minthara.

Karlach: 

You two lay in Karlachs tent, winding down for the day. She lay on her back while you were cuddled closely to her side, your head resting just on top of her shoulder.   Her eyes are shut in bliss. She absolutely could stay like this forever, she thinks. Youre so soft, so warm, so cute and so… 

… Sharp? 

She opens her eyes to see you with a portion of the exposed skin on her chest between your teeth. It didnt hurt at all, but it did cause her to curiously raise a brow.

You immediately latch off and apologise, explaining your little quirk. 

“Awh soldier, that is adorable! Youre like lil cat!”

*Cue suffocating her with a pillow*

You scowl and turn to tuck your head into her shoulder. 

“Awwe, its okay love, you can bite me all you want, its cute!” 

Lae’zel: 

It was one of the rare nights Lae’zel indulges you with cuddles and a surge of raw emotion from the sheer domesticity you felt took over you. Unfortunately, the easiest outlet proved to be your teeth clamping down gently onto the thick skin of Lae’zels bicep. 

She immediately moves away and assumes a defensive stance–rather, the best she could do while still laying on the floor. 

You profusely apologise and explain what you were doing.

“Chk. I almost thought that lousy vampire had turned you into one of his.” 

After thorough reassurance, she seemed to trust that you were in fact, not a vampire and didnt want to drain her dry. Not that you could, even if you tried.

“I suggest issuing a warning before making another attempt in the future. I would not want to endanger you. Peculiar habits aside.” 

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart played with your hair as you were splayed on top of her, the pressure on her body serving as a soothing reprieve from her own mind. 

She just shut her eyes and was about to nod off until she feels you shift. And then feels the sharp pain of your teeth on her shoulder.

She opens her eyes and is met with your own widened in shock. 

You look at her guiltily and stumble through an apology before starting to slide off of her in fear of her being mad at you.

She grabs you and scoffs. “Stay. A little nibble is hardly cause for me to want you to leave.” 

Minthara:

Minthara enjoyed having you like this. Your head resting on her lap as she read a book she stole from some poor merchant.

You look up and see her hands. The way they held the book from your angle seemed all too enticing…

Of course, you end up snapping at them only to immediately let go and apologise.

Minthara sneered. “Pathetic. If you must bite, there's no reason you should be holding back. You must always commit. Tender moment or otherwise.” 

She wears your bitemarks like badges of honor.

A/n: Im proud of the dialogue. I think I captured them well. This fits really well as a Durge reader but I just wrote this as a self insert for my weird bitey tendencies

[irl-w0lverine]

.ೃ࿐coffee orders.ೃ࿐

pairing : luke cooper x reader

Content : fluff

A/n : sorry for disappearing 😓 ive been slightly busy and havent had any ideas. I would normally stick to only ahs or twd fics but i finished the office for the billionth time and wanted to make a luke one

Not proofread!

It was a usual day in the office, everyone around you picking up phonecalls and mindlessly typing away on their keyboards. You however weren't doing either, extremely groggy from the stormy morning and the fact that the coffee was also late didnt help due to it being the only source of energy you can get right now.

After a few minutes of continuously glancing at the door, Luke finally arrives.

"coffee monkeys here." He sighs, holding a couple trays of coffee. Everyone swarms around him like bees, groans of disappointment and frustrated complaints erupting from the huddle as everyone finds out their orders are wrong.

You slowly emerge from your chair, having a strong feeling that yours is gonna be just like everyone elses. As you take your coffee out of its tray and put it up to your lips, you notice Luke glances over at you with a small smirk, observing your moves. Why is he doing that?

Everyone starts to retreat back to their desks as you take a sip. Your eyes imediately meet his, a twinge of suprise hidden in your eyes as the taste is exactly what you asked for.

"Dont let anyone know.. They might uh... Scold me for it" He says with a small chuckle and an awkward smile.

"Holy shit, how did you remember? This is exactly what i asked for!" A small smile gracing your lips, a rare sight that barely anyone in the workplace sees.

"Yours is just a simple order, easier to remember than others" You can see how nonchalant hes trying to act, the proximity between the two of you closer than realised.

"Thank you! Im so happy i could probably kiss you or something!" It was a small gesture he had done but after the morning you had, this had made it so much better. You hadn't fully realised what you said but luke definitely did, his cheeks flushed a pink colour.

"Uh.. What?" He mumbles, making you realise what you said.

"s-.. sorry uhm... that uh... Slipped out" You cant help but feel extremely embarrassed.. But you sure weren't gonna take your words back. Despite how annoying luke sometimes is, your feelings for him are obvious to everyone in the office but him. Wether your sneaking glances at him or how your body language changes while talking to him, everyone always notices.

"oh.. Ok" His eyes avoiding yours, his tone almost.. Disappointed?

A/n: ending on a slight cliffhanger, if this does well then ill possibly write a pt2! Kinda rushed it so i apologise for poor Writing!

Thank you for reading! <3

[chenlesfavorite]

After the trip to London, you and Mark spent 99% of your time always glued to each other. Skipping out on group hang outs, or just ignoring your friends for each other.

You two could not be pulled away, and anyone could tell.

You went on many, many dates, and shared many kisses that were passionate, playful, fun and just lovely overall.

You and Mark loved each other oh so dearly; there was no doubt you two would spend the rest of your lives together in harmony.

What a surprising outcome, the chemistry tutor your friend Ten suggested to you, stole your heart from Taeyong and ended up as your boyfriend…

… well at least you won’t need to worry about chemistry anymore! He’s more than willing to let you cheat off of him if you two spent the entire tutoring session playing around.

How did he end up in your class? Simple. Mark asked to be transferred there! What a little schemer.

THANK YOU FOR READING GOT MY ION YOU ❤️

══════════════════

GOT MY ION YOU : chapter 30 — the end

back — masterlist

! author’s note : the final chapter! can’t believe this smau is finally over, makes me feel kinda emotional ngl😢 anyway, thank you for making it this far! im really thankful for all the support this smau has received 🫶 also i apologise if this smau was kinda a mess LOL, its my first time making something like this and i didnt put much thought into it😭 but I promise my next one will be more thought out and better! (hopefully)

also feel free to ask me questions!! (if you have any ofc) <3

✮⋆˙ taglist : @nanaxwi @yyangj3lly @morkiee @alethea-moon @neocrashed @junviadinho @hyuck-me @injunified @candied-czennie @dudekiss3r @neozon3nha @nosungluv @starfilledgaze @luvtyunn @mystverse @multifandomania @bitchzitschimi @kittydollzz @soheendo @minkyuncutie

— you’ve reached the end! —

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[allisluv]

hey gal!! could you possibly consider writing finnick taking care of his girl after a s/h relapse. if not that’s okay i understand that it’s a sensitive topic. love ya.

good as new.

content warnings: this blurb deals with heavy themes relating to self-harm but does not talk about self-harm in detail at all. this is simply a hurt/comfort fic and focuses on the aftermath rather than the act in itself. please read responsibly! my dms are always open <3

word count: 500

"There. Good as new," Finnick says softly as he helps you off the countertop you were sitting on. He stands on his tippy-toes and pushes the first aid box back on top of the refrigerator.

You shift awkwardly on the balls of your feet, hugging your arms to your chest as you trace soothing patterns over the bandaged skin. "I'm sorry."

Finnick raises an eyebrow. "Sorry? What are you sorry for?" He asks gently.

You sigh, trying to figure out how to put your thoughts into words. "I just... I know you didn't sign up for this and--"

"Let me stop you right there," Finnick says, his voice firm but not unkind. "I didnt have to 'sign up' for this. I'm your boyfriend and I love you with every inch of my soul, which means I'm here for the good parts as well as the bad parts. I'm in this relationship for the long run." His expression softens ever so slightly. "And you don't have to apologise to me, okay?"

Your brows furrow. "You're not mad?"

Finnick sighs and takes you by the hand, leading you to sit down in the living room. He waits until you've settled on the sofa before speaking again. "Let me make myself very clear; I am not mad with you, not even the slightest. I'm mad at the situation and the fact that you didn't feel like you could come and talk to me. That's what I'm mad at. But I'm not mad at you. Do you understand?"

You nod. "It's not that I couldn't talk to you, I just felt so overwhelmed and sometimes no amount of talking or holding ice cubes or breathing works. Sometimes it feels like it's the only way," you admit.

Finnick cocks his head to one side as he listens. "Okay. I think I get that. I just... I wish there was something I could do to help. I hate it when you hurt yourself, and I'm not saying that to make you feel guilty, because I know it's a complex thing and I wouldn't ever try to make you feel bad for how you choose to cope."

"I know that," you say. "Can we... can we talk about this more later? I kinda just wanna watch a movie and cuddle or something."

Finnick nods. "Of course, angel. But we are talking about this more later, okay?" You settle on his chest and he cards his fingers through your strands of hair, his touch reassuring and gentle. "Can I ask you to promise me something?" You're wary but you say yes anyway. "Can you promise to find me if you feel that way again? Even if you don't wanna talk, just come to me and we can sit together. Yeah?"

"Okay. I think I can do that." You say. He presses a kiss to your forehead and you link your pinky finger with his. "Finnick?"

"Yes, angel?"

"I love you."

"I love you more."

[i-cant-sing]

i was just minding my business like scrolling to find new fics to read since i was so so bored and while i was finding some delicious fics (ahem ahem: yandere big brother bakugou x little sister reader) ur post suddenly idk the word (lumitaw (its a filo word)) and i was screaming and immediately dropped what i was supposed to read to read yours 😭😭😭

i got the worst memory ever to exist because i keep forgetting their names but i think i'll grasp them once the next chapter is out (hopefully) but yeaaah!!! baris reminds me of abbas in a way but ig he's a bit more.. brute yk what im talking about????? ig he's ok..

OH! and i have a theory about the painting, y/n's face getting smudged maybe because baldwin or SALAUDDIN decided to smudged it to forget how they look due to heartbroken (prob not baldwin,, but i feel like salauddin would do that ??) i guess im getting married again 😔😔 i feel like im betraying my pookie salauddin 💔💔💔🙏🙏 BUT ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THE UPDATE SNOW!!!! AMAZING AS ALWAYS!! can't wait for the next one already!! 😭😭😭 i think i'll send more of my thoughts if something crosses over my mind (prob when im in the shower)

ooohh i like your theory(portrait pictures at the end). i like it a lot. expanding on it:

Baldwin would probably cause the painting to be smudged because he's kissing it, kissing your lips, drunk off his mind, tears streaming down his cheek as he spends hours sitting in front of it, talking to the painting as if u still exist, begging u to come back from heaven, even apologising for all he's done, just please- come back, angel...

Meanwhile Salauddin would probably be staring at your portrait angrily. He understands why you had to leave but.... you couldnt have told him where you were goinh? Do you not think he couldve protected you? He wouldve used his whole army, gathered Muslims from all around the world to protect you. Did you... did you not have the least bit faith in him? deep down, he knows u did this to prevent a war between him and baldwin but.... Salauddin wouldve gone to war for you. Happily. This wasnt your decision to make alone. Now, he stands in front of your portrait, he has it in his palace now, and he doesnt say voice it out like baldwin, but he has complaints. HE keeps them inside, mentally talking to you, telling you just how stupid you were for sacrificing yourself, for jumping off that stupid cliff. How u shouldve just- just asked him for help ONCE, and he wouldve fought until his last breath if it meant keeping u safe. In his mind, u sacrificed yourself to protect Baldwin from murdering innocent muslims or anyone else u wouldve seeked help from.

And now? All Salauddin can do is pray for you. He wakes up late into the night and sits on the prayer mat, making dua for you for hours, reading Quran for you, has animals slaughtered on eid on your behalf, even doing charity and hajj (pilgrimage) on your behalf, just so that you can have more good deeds in your name. He still has the chess board u gifted him, but he's stopped playing chess. He never played the game again, it was only a painful reminder of you. The one person who he could never beat.

As for your painting, why it was smudged? Salauddin didnt want anyone to see your beauty, thats why he kept the portrait hidden in his room, but then he feared that one day when he's not around anymore, someone will see you. So, he used a rag soaked in turpentine to smudge your face, but couldnt do more than just the bottom half of your face. He thought that was fine, after all, thats how u did often appear when you were around, wearing a niqaab, a veil that covered your face.

Now that he looks at your eyes, he realises his mistake. He heard the wise tell him-

"Eyes are the windows to the soul."

He now knows it to be true.

This is what I think the portraits look like:

Notice that this is the earrings Salauddin gifted Y/n when she was in the market with him:

How Baldwin's been: