#okay tag storm incoming

[retquits]

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[himegureisu]

calls pt.2

Author's Note: I present to you all part two.

< calls pt. 1

“Where are you?”

His voice in short huffs came through the speaker as soon as he answered your call. In a haze, a medic brought you to the side and wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. Your body trembled in response to the situation you’d been in.

“Just give me a location, baby,” he pleaded, eyes scanning the crowd for your physique, “I’m already here. I’ll come get you,”

“Outside the entrance, by the shrubbery,” you breathed out, barely could hold the tears in, and cracked, “Aaron, I need you,”

“I know, baby, I’m on my way,”

His movements rushed through the crowd almost frantic as you started to cry on the other side of the line. Your short breaths and hiccups increased but the moment strong familiar muscular arms picked you up from the curb the incoming panic attack subsided.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, arms tight around you. His scent and presence were the calm after the storm, “You’re okay. I’m here,”

“I was so scared,” you cried. His shirt was drenched in your tears as his started to fall upon the sight of you unharmed, “I forgot everything you told me. I’m sorry,”

“What matters is that you’re here in one piece, okay?” he stripped himself of his jacket, placed it on your shoulders, and handed over the blanket to the nearest EMT, “We can go home when you’re ready,”

In front of you, he knelt and wiped your tears as you gathered yourself together. Just waiting. Once you could breathe normally, you tiredly leaned against his chest, the steady beat of his heart calming you amidst the chaos.

“I love you,” you whispered, and he sighed, placing a small kiss on your forehead, “I love you too,”

“Let’s go home,” you said softly, he nodded and supported you as you made a move to stand, “Let’s go home,”

------------------——— 🔎------------------------—

In the morning tangled between the sheets, he’d laid on top of you. Your steady heartbeat was a balm for his frayed nerves but neither of you was able to sleep until the dawn broke out the horizon.

This tranquility broken in just an hour when his phone rang.

“Should I answer your phone?” you asked. His deep sleep-addled voice rumbled a barely coherent response but affirmed that you could, “Okay,”

“Aaron Hotchner’s phone. This is …” you introduced yourself.

There was a period of silence before a series of excitable giggles, squeals, and gasps came over. They take a deep breath and compose themselves before speaking to you.

“Good morning. We’re sorry to disturb you, but I’m Agent Jennifer Jareau from his team, the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” JJ politely greeted, as Penelope contained her squeals. We know that Hotch left for an emergency, but is there any chance you could convince him to come to follow us on our new case? We need his insight.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure to pass on the message,” you gently stroked his hair, faint snores escaped his lips as he slept soundly, “We had a rough night so I make no promises when or if he’ll come in,”

“That’s okay and we’re sorry for disturbing you,” JJ answered gratefully, as Morgan shushed Penelope and you assured them, “It’s okay he’ll call you for updates later,”

“Thank you. It was good talking to you.” JJ smiled, and unconsciously you did as well, “You too,”

------------------——— 🔎------------------------—

“Are you coming home in time for dinner?”

His smile made its’ appearance the moment he could hear the sizzle of the pan. Those awake in the cabin, namely Emily and Reid, horribly feigned disinterest in the conversation.

“For once, I will, yes,” he answered, staring at the passing clouds outside the window, “What’s cooking?”

“Your favorite for a job well done,” your smiles bloom. His dimples showed and a light tinge on his cheeks had Emily nudging JJ awake, “And me for dessert,”

He sighed.

“Baby, don’t do that to me,” he whispered, why were you such a tease? “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,”

Tags Requested: @aaronhotchnersworld, @burningsongtimemachine, @lillisummers @charmedkim @acn128 @kodzukenie333 @wittygutsy @saint-marvel

[astonmartinii]

daniel x gradschool reader?? maybe they’re not officially dating but he meets her when he’s in new york and they spend the summer together??

big apple lovin' | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x gradschool!reader

sparks fly when daniel visits new york on his winter break

yourusername

liked by yourbff1, yourbff2 and 203 others

yourusername: studying up a storm in the city of my dreams

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yourclassmate now zoom in so i can steal some notes

yourusername at least do the stealing urself

danielricciardo

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danielricciardo: big city exploring

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username he's looking so fucking good DAMN

landonorris miss you already

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danielricciardo didn't want to hurt your feelings when everyone ignores you for my sexy ass

newyorkstreetstyle

liked by yourusername, f1wagsupdates and 20,651 others

newyorkstreetstyle: our usual warren street fashion icon has been double trouble recently, obsessed with both.

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username warren street girl having the best taste in men as well ... mother

username not daniel ricciardo on new york street style do they not know who he is?

username DANIEL CONTENT

username people in the comment section freaking out over the man but warren street girl is the real nyc celebrity here

username warren street girl i do not know you but on behalf of the f1 community thank you for taking away danny's skinny jeans !

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff1 and 1,237 others

yourusername: found this stray cat in central park, anyone recognise them?

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yourbff1 idk who he is but he looks freakishly similar to the guy who hasn't left our apartment in a week

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yourclassmate1 if he gets us all coffee again he can stay for as long as he wants

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danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 721,663 others

danielricciardo: wet dream concrete tomato or something like that

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yourusername

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tagged: danielricciardo

yourusername: final stretch of grad school with some extra motivation

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yourbff1 believe me everyone in the apartment can hear the motivation

yourusername THERE ARE KIDS ON THIS APP ACT APPROPRIATELY

danielricciardo sorry not sorry

landonorris so this is who the honey badger is obsessed with

yourusername as he should be

username GRAD SCHOOL? educated wag incoming let's go

nyu

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 51,678 others

tagged: yourusername

nyu: nyu graduate y/n y/ln has had her graduate study published in the journal of english literature and cultural studies!

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username so how did danny's dumbass pull a published researcher?

yourbff1 ENGLISH LIT SLAY

yourusername thank you nyu will miss you guys :(

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danielricciardo congratulations smarty pants xx

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yourusername

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tagged: danielricciardo

yourusername: grad school ... completed it mate ;)

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danielricciardo

liked by redbullracing, yourusername and 812,673 others

tagged: yourusername

danielricciardo: finally showed the mrs my day job

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username FULL LAUNCH AT A RACE OH LORD

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danielricciardo who wouldn't be a fan of my face?

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username she's so fucking pretty STEP ON ME

note: pls enjoyyyyyyy (p.s. there's a lando request i finished but tumblr deleted it from my drafts so i'll get that up asap) xx

[dotster001]

Quiet End

A/N: Your first non canon, custom content end is here! I've tagged everyone from the of tag list, and everyone who voted for this particular end. If you wanna add your vote for the next one, you can do so in the comments here.

Chapters: Part One Part Two Part Three Choose Another ending

You have to do this! It's all you've been talking about for a week!"

"I just can't!"

Idia was all dressed in a suit and bow tie, but stubbornly standing outside the door to the restaurant. Ortho gave him a pleading look.

"Idia! Come on! Pull it together! You'll always regret it if you don't go in there!"

As Idia was about to send out another string of curses, when an angry Grim, wearing a bow tie, and holding a clipboard, slammed open the door and stomped over to Idia.

"Shroud, pull yourself together or, I swear to the seven, Ashengrotto and I will have a reconciliation, and you'll never have another chance with Y/N!"

With that shout out of his system, he stormed back into the restaurant, probably to try and tell the band and you that "your date" was still coming.

Idia was still frozen, but now it wasn't just out of social anxiety, it was the anxiety that if he blew tonight, he blew any chance of future nights with you.

"Okay, that's it," Ortho said, pushing Idia.

"No…"Idia said through gritted teeth.

"Initiating thrusters," Ortho said, and Idia heard the thrusters kick in, and felt Ortho's pushing get significantly stronger.

"No, no no!"

Once Ortho had pushed him through the door, he let him go, and escaped back out, leaving Idia to make eye contact with you and the band. A smile bloomed across your face, and you waved at him.

Idia took a steadying breath, and robotically walked over to your table, taking a seat.

"Sorry I'm late," he muttered.

"It's totally fine! I'm just happy that you're my date. The last date Grim set me up on was with Azul, and, well, I'm sure you heard how that went."

Idia nodded. The entirety of NRC had heard the story of how Grim had been roped into a contract with Azul, so that Azul could date you. Only a select few knew the truth, though.  Azul had begun construction on a second branch, which meant his income was slightly lower this quarter. And Grim wasn't that good at business math. Which meant Idia was in.

"You're happy it's me?" He asked, unable to hold eye contact with you.

"I mean, yeah. Of course I'm happy it's you! I like you. Quite a lot," you grinned, and his hair turned a deep red as he buried himself in his hoodie like a turtle.

As if the moment couldn't get anymore overwhelming, you looked over your shoulder at Grim, who was yelling at the singer in the band, and then leaned in enough that he could deeply inhale your scent.

"Wanna get outta here?"

….

The two of you were quietly walking along campus. Neither of you spoke, but neither of you needed too. It was a comfortable silence.

At length, Idia muttered," I quite like you, too."

You looked startled, but then smiled happily.

"I'm so happy, Idia. Thank you."

"Why? I'm just a loser otaku, with freaky blue hair…"

"Sevens, Idia! You're sweet, you're smart, you're funny, and despite how you feel, you're quite hot. Like that jawline could cut glass, dude."

He looked at you, not convinced.

"My god, I have to do everything around here," you said with a groan, before grabbing his face and kissing him.

His eyes widened in shock, but as he watched, you seemed to be enjoying the kiss. So he closed his eyes, and just took you in, letting the moment be.

"Y/N! Shroud!" 

You separated, and he couldn't stop himself from chasing your lips, until he realized that the angry sound was Grim.

"Both of you skipped out on your rather expensive date, so I just had to pay the bill. I expect rapid reimbursement."

You raised an eyebrow at Grim, then rolled your eyes.

"Whatever, Grimmy. Your money comes from me anyway."

"Don't sass me! This has been a rather stressful evening! We're going home, and neither of you gets to see each other until you've learned your lesson."

He stormed off, and you made to follow, but not before leaning in to Idia and whispering, "Let's do this in your room next time."

His heart was so full as he watched you leave, a dreamy sigh on his lips.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @i-like-forgs @astral-ami @homestuckotaku

[damn-stark]

Chapter 28 Let it be fear

Chapter 28 of Moonlight

A/N- :/

Warning- talks of pregnancy, ANGST, FLUFF, fluff, and more fluff, some violence, talks of blood, and SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 491-515

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

There’s a certain beauty that blesses the Trident today as the chilling blue sky lets the cold sun shine over the thick green wilderness, but what is a rainless horizon compared to him?

There’s a serene silence that accompanies you as you overlook The Keep of House Frey from the top of a nearby hill, and in that silence, you’re captivated by the way the sun captures Cregan, and for a moment, like sunbeams breaking through a storm, there’s a warmth in his stormy eyes that melts away the threat he usually carries, providing a warmth only his grey eyes can offer; which is pretty fascinating considering grey is cold, hard, and dull, but those grey eyes of his have a way of being warm under the sun. They’re also mysterious and beautiful like steel against firelight. It’s your favorite color too, but only because he makes it captivating.

Alas, in all that admiration does he notice you? No, and it’s okay because you find your courage and motivation to keep going in his unawareness.

“The last destination,” you break the silence and as if taking one last breath of him you look away to follow his line of sight to the The Twins sitting below.

“You’ll gain their support just like you have gained all the rest,” he offers as a piece of reassurance, but this time it doesn’t ease your concern.

Cregan notices that the moment you don’t respond and only gets reassurance of that when he looks over at you and sees the storm of stress raging behind your eyes. “You will get their support one way or another,” he presses and gently cups your neck, causing you to quickly look away from the keep to meet his eyes that just reflect you this time.

“I burned Lady Frey and her army of men—”

“After they tried to take Harrenhal by force and captured you in the process,” he cuts you off to remind you of that detail. “They were okay with betraying the Queen to take control of the rubble of a useless castle. What you did was justifiable in a time of war. You did the right thing and if they don’t see it that way then we'll make them. Or you will,” he says with a lighthearted huff and proceeds to offer you an assuring smile as he drags his hand down your side to interlace his fingers with yours.

“You’re right,” you breathe out and find it again, just there in his eyes as your hands are interlinked, the bliss of home. However, as you’re in the depths of your comfort you find it in yourself to ask something that’s been gnawing at you. “And once we fight in this upcoming battle when we win, do you think that will be enough to return home? To my mother?”

Cregan blinks in confusion and you explain why you haven’t returned home or sent her a letter. “When I returned from Harrenhal after leaving my mother for months, she said to never leave her again. She found it in herself to forgive me for betraying her and siding with Aemond, but I left again. I left after she told me not to, so do you think gaining this support, building this reputation, and winning the battle will be enough for her to forgive me again? I let her down so many times I don’t know…if this is enough now.”

Cregan lets out a deep breath and his eyes drift to the side as the sound of incoming footsteps starts to ascend the hill, but he doesn’t pay them any mind, he leans his face forward and offers the best reassurance. “She’s your mother, would you forgive your children if you were in her position?”

You draw in a shaky breath and nod gently. “Of course, they’re my children, but…” you trail off and he fills your silence.

“She will forgive you. I can imagine there might have been tension before. This is all a tense situation, but you’re trying and fighting hard for her, she will recognize that and forgive you if she hasn’t already,” he offers you sweet words, making you nod gently in comprehension with no need to seek for more help. He fills your heart with the assurance you need to move on without hesitation or getting lost in the wilderness that are your thoughts.

So much so that you walk down the hill with your head held high and your mind clear because you know the Frey’s have this need to be resistant. They’re stubborn and proud, so you know that this meeting is not going to be as easy as the others were, there will be resistance and you prepare for that accordingly, making sure to have silver chains over your face that match the armor on your corset.

Never once do you falter in your step or the way you carry an intimidating stare behind those silver chains because you can see them the moment you walk into the great hall; you see them look for a fault in your step, a slight mistake, or an out of line hair to pick on and use against you and the people you’re with, but you don’t give them the satisfaction. With your blazing stare alone you challenge the young and great Lady Sabitha Frey, eldest daughter of Lord Frey, and Lady Frey who you killed at Harrenhal.

“Thank you for allowing us in your home,” Addam is the one who breaks the tension first but can hardly gain any of the audience's attention. Lady Sabitha has her sharp eyes on him, but everyone else…they all have their eyes on you as if wanting to tear you apart, but also keep you at a distance fearing if they got too close they’d burn alive too, which means the message was sent.

“I have heard that a great army has been marching through the Riverlands,” Lady Sabitha speaks at last but she doesn’t offer any greetings, she’s blunt and cold. “I was beginning to wonder if we would be paid a visit or be left out.”

“The Riverlands are grand,” Addam says back. “And our task is significant, it’s taken us time, but we are here at last.”

“It was her!” A voice blurts, bringing a stunned silence and turning all of the attention to you standing at Addam’s side—“She was the killer! She burned Lady Serena and her men! She did it! She’s the Fire Demon!”

You tilt your nose to the air and can’t help but smirk in response, but that only lets Lady Sabitha find a reason to finally display her rage and grief because she doesn't care if she got interrupted and humiliated by some common warrior, she's looking for a single step out of line to be able to drive her focus to you and her rage.

“I know there’s unresolved tension,” Addam tries to diffuse the situation. “But right now is not the time—”

“You find this humorous?” Lady Sabitha cuts Addam off without a care. “Is my mother's death funny to you, Princess?” She throws out as she rises off her seat. “Then again what can I expect from someone who breaks enemy lines whenever she pleases? That treason may be pushed aside, but my mother's death will not go unpunished. Not here in my home and my lands,” she sneers and slowly begins to step forward.

“Punished?” She feign a laugh. “What would be my sentence?” You quip and raise your brows to press her. “I showed Lady Serena that there are consequences to her treason—”

“Treason?!” She spats and opens her mouth to continue, but Ser Cane cuts her off.

“You will not interrupt the princess whilst she’s speaking. This may be your house but she still is the heir and your princess,” he scolds her as he takes a big step forward to be a more menacing presence amongst Cregan also standing at your side.

“Sure,” Lady Sabitha mutters under her breath as she comes to a stop without coming too close to you. “As I was saying,” she continues louder even though it should have been you taking the spotlight, but regardless, you let her share her argument. “My mother committed no treason, Prince Jacaerys promised Harrenhal to us. She was only taking what was hers by right.”

You scoff and flash her an amused smile. “If she wanted to take it by right she should have said so,” you rebuttal. “But no, she did not. She knew I was there and took me captive to try and sell me to my mother or my husband. She was willing to change sides. She took me captive, that is treason,” you spat and take a step forward. “Or what you’re going to argue and say it didn’t go that way? Because it did, ask the man who just barged in.”

The attention turns to the man who had interrupted the meeting and he shrinks within himself but doesn’t dare leave. He averts his gaze and listens to Cregan interject. “Tell us if the Princess is right or if your lady is. Now.”

The man blinks nervously and quietly gives his response. “We had lost so much and the lady was grieving her husband, she wanted to find a point to her loss.”

You don’t respond with anything, you look at Lady Sabitha Frey with a pointed glare as you celebrate within.

However, in your silence, you did expect Lady Sabitha to start forming some kind of apology, but she remains at a standstill with her eyes downcasted.

“Bend the knee,” you sneer with your glare turning cold. “You were wrong, bend the knee and give us fighting men to add to our army so we can fight our war. And since you have heard so much about us I’m sure you know which war. Bend the knee.”

A tension grows tenfold in the great hall as Lady Sabitha remains standing because in doing so she causes her people filling this hall to remain resistant as well.

“Bend the knee to your princess and heir by orders of Queen Rhaenyra,” Ser Cane insists in a booming voice.

Yet without speaking Lady Sabitha looks you up and down with her lips curled in anger and remains defiant, and even then you still wait and wait, giving her the benefit of the doubt.

However, when you don’t hear a word or see her bend the knee you throw your hand back without saying a word. And without the need for instructions as if your minds are connected, Ser Cane pulls Blackfyre out of its sheath, filling the hall with the sharp ringing of metal scraping before the Valyrian steel blade glistens against the rays of the sun as the large sword is handed to you. Once you have it in your grasp you then step forward to be at the center of attention.

“I am your heir,” you say in a voice laced with deadly venom that brings chills to the audience without the need to yell to get your point or voice across. “I am your princess. I am the Blood Dragon, you will bend the knee, pledge fealty to Queen Rhaenyra first of her name, and me, her chosen heir.”

Lady Sabitha glances at your shining sword and then slowly meets your gaze without uttering a single word. She keeps quiet and her glare becomes challenging and conflicted.

“Unless you plan to switch loyalty,” you continue in the same venomous voice still missing volume. “If so, tell me right now by pulling out your sword or choosing your champion.”

Lady Sabitha Frey tilts her head and snaps her gaze to your belly. “And you will fight like that?” She points her eyes to your belly, making you scoff and flash her a smile that’s all too menacing.

“I won’t fight,” you clarify. “I could say I want a champion and all my men would volunteer. Even Lord Stark and Ser Addam would fight for me, but why waste their energy or risk their lives when I have my dragon as champion? Tell me Lady Frey can you, your people, and your castle stand against my dragon?” You finally start to raise your voice. “Or will you turn to ash just like your mother did?”

Gasps bounce around the room and the woman’s jaw clenches as her eyes turn even more fierce.

“Tell me!” You exclaim and then turn on your heels to point the tip of your sword at the audience remaining just as defiant as their Lady. “Tell me if any of you can stand against my dragon!”

As expected, silence, even from the brave lady.

“No?” you continue. “Well, I can. I am the Fire Demon! My flesh is fire made!” Your voice continues to boom out of frustration, and passion as well. “And,” you laugh and slowly lower the volume of your voice but never drop the venom behind it. “It will bring me great pleasure to watch you all burn and scream as your flesh melts off your bones. Just say the word.”

Lady Sabitha Frey looks around at all the frightened looks that the audience all share in her defiance. She looks and looks in hopes for something that can keep her own flame from being blown out, but that defiance once so vividly lit within her people is snuffed out by the great fire you are and she knows she’s lost. When she turns to look at you and meets your glowering glare, you further prove to her that you’re not one to bluff, so what other choice does she have?

Thus without uttering a single word, but with the intention clear in her eyes she drops her challenging glare and drops her head in defeat. The moment you see her head fall, to add more shame to her actions you get close to her and throw your hand out just below her eye line.

Now Lady Sabitha has no need for explanations, she knows what you mean and what you want, so what other choice does she have but to slowly bend down, grab the tip of your fingers, and push her lips forward to press a light feathered peck on your golden Targaryen sigil ring before she at last bends the knee, causing the once defiant audience to follow her suit and bend the knee.

Once you see the top of everyone’s heads you look down at her again between your lashes and shoot her smirk before you turn around dramatically and talk to her over your shoulder. “You will lend us the swords we came for, and in response to your treason, Harrenhal is no longer yours. You will keep your lands, your home, and your lives, I will make sure to let the Queen know of your loyalty and apology as well.” You share with a honey-laced tone that only shames them more. “Oh, and you will prepare your home to host your guests accordingly, I will be staying inside for the night. Pleasure doing business with you, House Frey.”

——

*LATER*

What is it about the day?

There was a sense of peace that filled the day as the sun reigned over the sky. Even after the complicated business with the Frey’s, the serenity stayed, but now even against the fiery sky cast over the land, the dragons are caught in a restless spell as if they were uncomfortable and needed to be somewhere but couldn’t quite find a way to leave. They’re just flying in circles, filling the fierce sky with their almost melancholy song.

Maybe they’re tired of being in the Riverlands? Astraea and Seasmoke do love the sea, you think to yourself as Addam walks in and joins you in the library.

“They’re acting odd don’t you think?” You ask him as you refer to your dragons. “They’ve been circling the sky and crying for a while now.”

Addam approaches you near the window that has the best view of the running river that The Twins stand over, and at the moment notices the way the setting sun in its red and orange reign catches you with its fierce hues, but never once makes you look threatening or as rageful. The red and orange hue makes you appear enchanting and otherworldly; everything a Valyrian princess should be under such a fierce horizon.

“I wish I could know,” he doesn’t offer any kind of solution. “Where’s your Lord Stark?”

You roll your eyes away from the window and glance down at the book you have been reading. “He’s busy answering correspondence from home,” you let Addam know regardless if he’s teasing you. “He is a busy man, you know? He doesn’t just spend time at my side. You just happen to catch him with me when you look for me, that’s all.”

“Okay, okay,” Addam brushes you off lightheartedly and then nudges your knee with his foot. “You changed, you look nice.”

You look at him with a smile. “Thank you,” you redirect before you start to grin with amusement. “Just so you remember I am meant to change about three to four times a day. There’s my morning gown, my lunch and afternoon gown, my dinner gown, and if I go out or have to attend a meeting or court I change for that.”

Addam snickers and hides his grin by looking out the window. “I remember,” he says in response. “It’s ridiculous and a waste if you ask me. I mean why not wear the same thing all day or twice?”

You scrunch your nose. “Twice?” You quip. “I have only worn my favorite and most expensive gowns more than once, and now that we’re out here I have no other option, but why would I wear things repeatedly?”

Addam scoffs and leans forward. “Because why waste your money on something so materialistic?” He retorts with a dry laugh. “And because why not use it more than once?”

You squint at him and shake your head. “Money is not a problem for me,” you explain as if it isn't an obvious fact about you. “I am a Velaryon, our family is the richest there is, why shouldn’t I spend my share? Besides, there’s so many beautiful fabrics and talented designers, I can’t resist it,” you muse. “And all the colors,” you swoon. “The embroidery? The gold, pearl, or silver linings? It’s all so beautiful!”

With nothing left to argue with in his defense, Addam leaves it be with a roll of his eyes, letting you finally find the time to share the news you have been holding in for what feels like months. “Can I tell you something?”

“You’re going to do it anyway,” he retorts and rests his head back against the wooden panel as he locks his eyes on you. “What?”

A giddy smile creeps on your lips as you lean forward and grab his hands before you share. “Cregan and I are betrothed.”

Addam blinks repeatedly and his eyebrows slowly begin to pinch together, but then from one moment to the next, he flashes you a smile and scoffs. “I should have seen that coming. When did he ask?”

“A couple of nights ago,” you share and lean back without being able to let your smile go. “The night we had our campfire.”

Addam hums and slowly passes you a quizzical look. “Has he asked your mother? Or Lord Corlys? That’s who he would need to ask, no? How does that work without your father or Daemon?”

You shoot him a pointed glare. “I am a grown woman already with child. I don’t belong to anyone for him to ask permission. If I was a maiden then yes, he would have to ask for my hand, but I’m a widow. It’s my choice now…However,” you do add and avert your gaze. “Since I’m heir he does need to tell my mother, the Queen, but she won’t protest.”

You turn your gaze back to him and sigh to release your excitement before you clasp your hands and start to nervously fiddle with your rings. “But that’s not the only reason I’m telling you,” you pause and let out another deep breath before you look at him with a softened gaze riddled with a fragile vulnerability that could break at any given second.

“Weddings under the Old Gods are different,” you continue to say a bit quieter now. “They’re done under a heart three and usually a father walks the bride to the groom, but…my father is gone and Jacaerys is gone. I could ask my grandfather, but…I wanted to ask if you could walk me down the aisle when the day comes?” You ask and blink nervously, with each blink filling your eyes with more and more tears whilst Addam’s breath hitches and his own face drops that taunting expression to instead display his disbelief.

“It's okay if you don’t want to,” you quickly assure him in his silence you can’t read. “I can ask Joffrey, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to take that role.” You share your alternative with a happy smile so he doesn’t feel bad.

However, after another second of silence passes he finally draws out a deep breath he had been holding in and nods gently before he voices his answer. “I would be honored to walk you down the aisle.”

You beam and then lean forward to grab his hands and give it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” you offer sweetly. “Now Cregan and I want to marry after the war is over so we don’t have that weighing down on us or potentially ruin the day, so there’s still time, but I wanted to ask you now.”

Addam lowers his head to hide his smile whilst he also interjects with a smug comment. “You also need time to have your gown made, don’t you? What will it be made out of?”

You giggle and as you part your lips to rebuttal with something witty a knock raps on the door, pulling your attention away from your conversation.

“Come,” you welcome the visitor and slowly pull away from Addam.

The door opens and Cregan walks in. You’re happy to see him, you greet him with a smile, but when he walks further inside with a scroll in his hand you notice the solemn look he carries. And he’s usually serious so his expression shouldn’t really concern you all that much, but there’s something about the solemn look that he carries now that makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

“Cregan,” you utter his name nervously and don’t move, hoping that if you stay in place whatever he has to say won't reach you.

“My princess,” he greets hesitantly and then greets Addam with a small nod. “Ser.”

You swallow back nervously and press your hands against the cushion to stand up, but he quickly shakes his head and retorts. “Why don’t you stay sitting.”

A shaky breath escapes you and you nod stiffly as you feel the goosebumps travel from the back of your neck down to the perimeters of your skin.

“What’s wrong?” You ask and his grey eyes leave you to drift to the scroll in his hand. You follow his line of gaze but then drift your eyes back to him in hopes that whatever it has to say isn’t as bad as you’re starting to assume.

“A raven just came,” Cregan finally shares and slowly drifts his gaze back to you. “From Kings Landing. It’s for you.”

You were starting to assume it was for you. You could read it off his face.

“I could paraphrase what it says. I think that would be better with the news it contains,” he says and only adds more fuel to the already worrisome fire, but you can’t have him summarize whatever news arrived for you or else you won’t believe it. You need to read every word yourself even though you’ll have a hard time believing it too.

“No, no. I want to read it. Let me read it,” you press him and stretch your hand out to reach for the scroll. However, Cregan hesitates and grabs the scroll with both hands to smooth out the parchment first before he leans forward and hands it to you.

“Thank you,” you whisper breathlessly and watch how the paper trembles in your hold as you already expect the worst news to be written on the parchment because what else would it be?

Life has been cruel. Why would it be nice now?

You shouldn’t even read it, you should leave the news unread because at least that way you’ll be oblivious to anything…but you also know you won’t rest easy if you don’t know, so after a deep breath you turn the parchment and read what was brought to you.

“To The Princess and Heir of Queen Rhaenyra,

I dislike having to send you this letter, but it has to be written so you may know.

I regret to inform you that as of last night, all the dragons that were kept in the Dragonpit have perished after an angry mob of smallfolk following some fake prophet called The Shepherd, raided the Dragonpit—“

Your breath hitches and you feel as if somebody had punched you in the stomach. The news that the power of your house, and the beautiful creatures that are like your soulmates have all perished at the hands of common folk filled with anger sinks your heart. It leaves you paralyzed in your seat, but you don’t cry. Not yet.

“—when the news broke of what was transcending the young Prince Joffrey left the Red Keep against the Queen’s wishes, mounted Syrax, and fell from the saddle whilst in the sky—”

A shaky breath escapes you and a heavy pressure falls on your chest, but you don’t cry. Not yet.

“—Syrax perished not much later after getting caught in the mob that killed the other dragons. And it seems that at the news of Dreamfyre’s unfortunate passing, Princess Helaena Targaryen flung herself from a window and fell to her death, enraging the crowds—“

More pressure falls on your chest, your bottom lip trembles and your eyes sting further as the tears building in your eyes pain them. However, you don’t cry. Not yet.

Cregan who was watching you read the letter expects you to weep. He keeps a close eye out, expecting you to fold over in heartache, but you remain poised and collected, almost like the agony is not as hurtful anymore.

“—and making the city fall. Amidst the chaos Queen Rhaenyra took Prince Aegon, Lord Aerion, the Queensguard, trusted knights, and her handmaidens, and escaped the city, leaving Lord Corlys in his imprisonment which he escaped. As to where she is we don’t know, but until your return with Ser Addam, it’s best she remains hiding. That’s why I write to you in hopes you can retaliate at once and take back the city. You are our only hope unless Prince Daeron marches here first.

Maester Orwyle.”

You watch the words on the parchment and go over the news in your head again and again, faster and faster every single time until you can’t process any more news and you’re sitting there baffled and without being able to utter a single word. Time is at a standstill, the once-warm room is freezing and your body is paralyzed.

Cregan and Addam call out your name ever so softly, fearing that you’ll break if they raise their voices, but you stay there stiffly, realizing that you have to mourn yet another beloved brother. You had five, now you’re left with a single one who barely knows your name.

The woman you loved like a sister, the woman you cherished and adored, the woman who was your dearest friend, the woman you grew up with is gone because she couldn’t bear any more grief. Your grandfather escaped a cell you didn’t know he was in. And your mother is on the run with your remaining brother and your son to escape the angry crowds who brought the city down with their rage which you assume is caused by the same things that were upsetting them when you were there; things your mother can’t control.

Everything you once knew is slipping from your grasp. You can see that clearly now—no, you’re admitting that to yourself now. The only thing you have left is a fragment of hope and it’s just your mother, your brother, and Aerion. They’re all you have left. They’re that last fragment of hope. Yet even if you still have them, even if they’re the last flicker of hope you’re holding onto, nothing stops that pressure once weighing your chest down from tearing you down because you still lost all the beautiful and cherished dragons that connected you to Old Valyria. You lost Helaena, your beloved and gentle aunt who was more like the sister you never got to have. And you lost your little brother Joffrey, a boy you held when he was only a few minutes old, a brother who was the reminder of your sweet childhood; the sweet and blissful life you had before you were ripped from your family. He was that last piece of your childhood and now he’s gone, taking that memory with him, and leaving nothing but this new version of you.

And yet you still don’t cry. Even with the two pairs of eyes that feel like a hundred people are waiting for you to break down, you still don’t cry. You do reflect the grief through your eyes, but you don’t weep, you don’t shed even a single tear. You let out a shaky breath and sit up straight with your head hanging low, but you don’t cry. You shake your head gently at the realization of the tragedy, but you don’t cry. You meet Cregan’s worried and pitiful gaze and remain collected. It takes a lot out of you to remain so strong, but you remember all you were taught and lift your head high and keep your chest out with your nose slowly starting to flare.

“Addam,” you break your silence, making the man’s shoulders jump and be even more attentive than he already was.

“I hope you’re ready,” you continue to mutter in a low and almost threatening voice. “We’re moving up our plans. We will attack Tumbleton right away.”

Addam shifts in his seat before he probes. “Why? What’s going on?”

You let out a deep huff and your drooped gaze slowly starts to harden, whilst your heart begins to pound in your chest as your blood starts pumping through your veins frantically.

“I want to catch them by surprise now,” you share in that same almost threatening way. It’s not threatening yet but it’s slowly building up to it. “I don’t want them to see us coming until the sky is falling down upon them so word is not passed to King’s Landing that we’re coming.”

Cregan and Addam share a worried look and you proceed to get up from your seat to look at them both between your lashes.

“We’re going to attack King’s Landing,” you proclaim, and with that threat, you completely abandon every desire to be loved and respected. If they want to fear you, you’ll give them a reason to really fear you. “They’re preaching that we’re a threat, a curse, and a menace,” you scoff and smirk menacingly. “So I will be just that. I will rain fire down upon them so they may see the curse they want me to be”

Neither man try to talk you down from the rage clearly now set upon you, they could try but what good would that do? So they do nothing but accept and welcome your rage.

“Come,” you direct at Cregan as you walk past him. “I’m going to tell the troops to get ready. We leave tonight.”

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

The sun is slowly lowering over the horizon, and with each passing second as the sun slowly leaves the sky darker and darker, making you grow more nervous as the fate of this battle is unknown. All that’s known is that only one side will win and depending on who comes out to fight another day, that person will determine the fate of this war and your mother's survival. With all the dragons dead and the others against her, she can only depend on Addam and you. If you lose tonight, she does too. So you can’t lose.

“You know,” Cregan interjects through the solemn silence that was blanketing you both, but in doing so he doesn’t pull your attention to him, you keep your eyes on the painted sky as if today will be the last time you ever see a sunset as beautiful as the one over your head.

“I wish you would wear more than just a chainmail gown,” he finally shares his complaints that have been nagging him since he saw you with the chainmail gown on you. “I would feel a lot better knowing you were heavily protected.”

You scoff and roll your eyes his way. “Do you want me to look like a cannonball with a full set of heavy armor?” You quip with a teasing smile. “Because that’s what I would look like.”

Cregan tries to muster a laugh but with his heavy worry dragging him down he can’t even muster the twitch of a smile. “At least you and the twins would be protected against anything that may come your way.”

You sigh deeply and drag yourself closer to him to grab his cold hands and cling onto them as you try and offer him some reassurance. “My Astraea will protect me from any incoming threat, and this chainmail gown is enough to block any attack. I’ll be fine, besides, I won’t stray too far from my dragon I…intend to keep my promise to Addam and Ser Cane,” you laugh stiffly. “No ground fighting if it’s not completely necessary.”

Cregan watches the way you caress his knuckles with your thumb as he tries not to argue against you, so you proceed to pull one hand away from his grasp and reach over to cup his jaw. “I won’t die tonight. I want to live. I have to live, so don’t worry about me, okay?”

Cregan’s dark eyebrows furrow and his eyes snap to you. “How could you tell me not to worry? About you of all people.”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile as your heart is riddled with admiration. “Because my love, there beside all my grief and agony is a dream I want to see through. A dream that involves going back home with you. I thought about it…” you trail off to a whisper and drop the hand you have on his cheek to grab his hand once again.

“My mother has Aegon and Aerion, so hopefully by the time it comes to passing her crown down she’ll be old and wrinkly and the boys will be men, so they will be mature and ready to rule the kingdom she’ll leave behind,” you share words you never thought would come out of your mouth when you were younger, but now…what does Queen even mean without your brothers, Aemond, or anyone you used to know by your side?

It doesn’t mean anything. Not even a fraction of what it once meant to your beating heart and deepest desires. That’s why this new dream is easy to share because you’re certain it’s what you want.

“Because I don’t want any part of it,” you continue and he parts his lips in surprise. “I want to stay in Winterfell with you, with our family that we will have, and the people we will govern together. I don’t want to be Queen anymore, I want to be your princess until our last breath.”

Cregan shakes his head and reaches his hand over to cradle your face. “No, you can’t do that. Being Queen is all you wanted. You can’t just abandon that dream,” he tries to argue against the plans you murmur to him, but there’s nothing to argue about, you slept on it and pondered it long and hard so you’re certain abandoning your title as heir is what you desire the most.

“You’re wrong,” you argue and look at him with a softened gaze as you just admire him. “My dream is you now. You’re everything I want, so please don’t try and convince me any longer because my mind is made. Once this war is over I will take my children and pack all my life to leave with you. That’s why I’ll survive because I want to go home. Is that not nice?” You ask as your face contorts with heartache out of worry that he doesn’t like the sound of your new desires.

However, Cregan’s grip grows firmer against your cheeks and his hardened face twisted by surprise now softens and that smile that was once impossible slowly gets painted on his pale face. “Of course it’s nice. It’s great and I will do everything in my power to give you that beautiful dream, my darling love.”

You huff softly in relief and let him pull you closer to him so he can whisper against your lips.

“But tell me you’re certain. Tell me that your heart is set on this new dream of yours because I don’t want you abandoning something you always wanted out of fear or because of me.”

You grab into his wrists and nod gently. “I’m certain,” you affirm and kiss the heel of his palms. “I want to be wherever you are. I want to be home.”

The corner is his lips tug wider but that smile is quickly hidden as he presses his forehead against yours.

“I will always keep an eye out for you tonight,” he lets you know. “I will have your back from the ground, but if the battle gets too heavy you fly away, okay? Everyone will understand. You leave the fighting to Addam and us, okay? I know you’re angry, but my darling, you need to worry about your children, if not you, then worry about them.”

You swallow back nervously as you wish to protest, but in the state you’re in you really can’t fight like you used to, so you have to agree regardless.

“Okay,” you reassure him and gently stroke his wrist with your thumb before you steal a glance at his lips, and then look up into his grey eyes with a softened look full of awe before you lean in and steal a lingering kiss from his pink lips.

The kiss is not long, but it’s deep and full of passion. It’s full of longing and desire, and it reminds the both of you how much you really missed this form of intimacy. You missed being connected in such a sweet and passionate way that only you and him can ever understand. You missed the taste of each other, and getting lost in the wonders that kissing each other brings to your isolated world where only you and him exist.

However, once again it’s not long. Not as long as he would’ve wanted because you still feel odd kissing someone else after losing Aemond.

“And with this kiss my sweet Lord you have my favor in this upcoming battle,” you murmur against his lips, making him chuckle and then stroke your bottom lip with his thumb before he leans over and presses a peck on your lips.

“Gods I missed kissing you,” he flatters you and makes your face grow hot. “Once we marry I’ll never know that feeling ever again.”

You giggle and reach over to grab his face one more time before you pull away and pull a ring off from your finger; one your father had given you that carries this beautiful called The Gem of The Sea.

“This is my real favor,” you tell him and grab his hand to place the ring on his palm. “I want it back, okay? It’s really expensive and the gem is one of a kind.”

Cregan scoffs but he wraps his hand around the ring before he secures it in his pocket. “I’ll hang it around my chain later.”

You let out a deep breath and nod before you go still as you catch him sliding off a wolf brooch that was hooked to his cloak.

“And this is for you,” he lets you know and leans toward you to clip the brooch onto your fur cloak. “You’ll be a Stark soon, why not wear something that represents your new name?”

“And you?” You interject and offer him a giddy smile. “My betrothed?”

He huffs and drops his head to hide his smile. “Well yes because you’ll be all mine soon enough.” He says confidently as he meets your gaze with a smirk. “That’s why I will live, so you can at last be my wife.”

“I will be,” you whisper and glance at the wolf brooch to mutter, “now this will be like having you right beside me. Thank you. I’ll cherish it.”

“Good,” he says breathlessly before he lets out a deep breath and just takes you in for a lingering minute as the last rays of sun lose its grip on the earth and dance on your face.

He memorizes the color of your eyes, down to every small hue. He takes note of the form of your lips, of the curve of your cheeks, and the shape of your jaw as if he's afraid that if he doesn't take his time to mark every part of you in his memory he will forget the moment you were out of sight. He almost doesn’t want to keep his eyes off you, but once the sun is completely gone and the earth is completely cast in the darkness, you both stand up and walk away from your stolen moment to rejoin your army of men all ready to attack Tumbleton and the army of men occupying it to once and for all put an end to The Green army.

Yet how can you depart toward your dragon without offering them a few words of encouragement first? And once they see your presence upon that hill that overlooks them a wave of chills washes over them. Not because they fear you, but because they are filled with awe and respect at the sight of you in your glimmering black chainmail gown.

“I know,” you address the crowd as they go quiet upon the sight of your presence. “Today's attack came sooner than expected. We have been marching with little rest since we left the twins, but it’s not for nothing. Tonight we attack Tumbleton!” You proclaim and garner some murmurs. “Tonight we put an end to the Hightower army and the turncloaks that sit behind that wall! Us! Not just you, and not just me! All of us! You are the blood to my fire.”

“Yeah!” The men below bellow and throw their fists in the air.

“As you all know I am with child,” you continue. “But that won’t stop me, I will fight with you tonight upon my dragon. I will kill Prince Daeron Targaryen and his dragon tonight and be one step closer to ending the tyranny of his brother and faction!” You exclaim with a growl behind that threat. “Now I won’t lie, some of you won’t see daylight again. Some of you know that too, but your deaths won’t be in vain, you will bleed and die for your families, your homes, your lords! Your pride! And your Queen! Tonight we fight for her! We fight to win! We won’t lose tonight! We will win with fire and blood! Us! WE WILL WIN WITH WHATEVER IT TAKES! WITH FIRE AND BLOOD!”

“BLOOD DRAGON! BLOOD DRAGON!” All the men below implode into a cheer full of vigor, making chills crawl down your own spine as you watch them all pumped with adrenaline and ferocity.

“I’m going to join my squadron now,” Cregan interjects and snaps your attention to him, calming down your racing heart. “Be careful.”

You blink repeatedly before you rush to him to close the gap with an embrace. “Take care, okay? I can’t lose you too.”

Cregan hugs you back and presses a kiss on your head. “You won’t lose me.”

You let out a shaky breath and clutch onto him tighter. “Take care of Ser Cane for me, okay?”

He scoffs but nods to assure you. “I will…I love you.”

You smile softly and turn your head to press one last kiss on his cheek. “I love you too.”

You proceed to pull back and he cups your cheek one more time to linger in each other's presence for another moment before you both part ways, letting him join his men, and letting you join your dragon and Addam and his dragon.

“If things start to get too out of control you fly out there, okay?” Addam interjects the moment he sees you making your way to him. “And don’t be getting off your dragon for anything unless you really have to.”

Even though he’s scolding you, you still can’t help but flash him a giddy smile as he makes you feel such a warm feeling.

“I know, I know,” you roll out and meet him halfway. “You have told me multiple times. I will not involve myself in any heavy fighting, or fight on the ground. I know.”

Addam puts his hand on his hip and sighs. “Yes well, you like to be spontaneous and think about yourself.”

Your smile falls but you don’t get upset because no matter how harsh it is it’s true.

“Don’t think about yourself,” he presses and looks at you with concern. “Your son needs you and your mother needs you. Don’t let your anger consume you.”

You blink repeatedly as his words ache your heart.

“You be careful too,” you whisper to the ground. “I need you. And Alyn needs you.”

He scoffs and as you look up you see him nod softly. You proceed to reach over and grab his arm to gain his unwavering attention. “I love you, Addam. You are someone to me, and I wish we would have met sooner, but I am glad our paths crossed. You…saved me from drowning in my grief. Without you, I would have died in that lake waiting for a dead man to come back to life. I…wouldn’t be here if you weren’t in my life.”

Addam’s eyes fill to the brim with tears but only two single tears break out and roll down his cheeks.

“Thank you,” he whispers softly and offers you half a smile. “You know all my life I looked up at the world from the surface I was born in, it made me believe you were untouchable gods too high in the sky to care about anyone below you, but…when I too touched the clouds, when I met you…I see now that you are good. You have a good heart. You are a bit mad for liking the things you like, but you are like the sister I never had and I will always be thankful for that. I will always be thankful for you.”

Tears fill your eyes but you refuse to cry. You don't want to cry so you gnaw on your bottom lip and hold it all in.

“I love you too,” he redirects and closes the gap that was left between you to embrace you—“Be careful, okay?”

You nod as you hold onto him and whisper back. “I will. You be careful too.”

“I will,” he assures you before he pulls back and taps your chest with his fist, causing you to mirror his actions right back at him.

“I’ll see you up there,” you interject one more time, making him flash you a smile and offer you a nod before you both pull away from each other and mount your respected dragons.

“<Don’t worry girl,” you talk to Astraea as you click on your restraints—or as many as you can with your swollen belly in the way. “…today we won’t be the day we lose>.”

Astraea turns her head to look at you, making you offer her a gentle smile. “<Our fight won’t be over after this fight but we will be one step closer. You’ve been doing great>.”

Astraea growls and you can’t help but grin wider whilst you wrap your hands around the handles. When Astraea looks back at the dark sky you follow her line of gaze and take one last look at the serene night sky, taking note of the stars, and taking a deep breath of the brisk and clean air before you part your lips and mutter. “<Fly, Astraea.>”

Your she-dragon starts walking down slowly before she quickly picks up her pace, opens her giant purple wings, and then takes flight at the same time as Seasmoke, sending a signal to the army of men below to start running. Not marching, running.

You are so close to Tumbleton that you don’t want to risk being seen by any man. You want to stay under the cover of night and catch them by surprise so you rush, hitting the ground with thousands of claps of thunder as horses sprint through empty fields of grass.

The sky is silent, giving the illusion of a serene night, but looming threats cover the light of the stars and cast large shadows over the earth that fly past at an incredible speed.

A heightened rush of adrenaline connects you all as you get closer and closer to the grand battle, but nothing and you mean absolutely nothing matters but your anger. As if Daeron was solely at fault for all the pain you endured and everything that had happened all you can focus on is him and the rage that makes your blood and your heart thump violently.

You should keep your mind clear, you should fly into this war selflessly, after all, thousands of lives, and the lives of your mother, your son, and your brother depend on you to win this war, but there’s no fight with yourself when you choose to be selfish. You choose the blood-thirsty and raging anger. That’s all you hear. That’s all that fills you. It burns like the blasts of fire that rain down the moment you cross enemy lines and create chaos. And it’s all you see until there’s him; Daeron Targaryen standing in the midst of the army of his men.

His blond-silver hair stands out in between the storm of people all sent into a panic, and the wave of fires that wash over the army.

He stands there with his dark eyes on you and your raging dragon.

He stands there, Daeron Targaryen. He’s all you see and it makes your already heightened anger that more livid.

——

*A FEW YEARS AGO. KING’S LANDING*

The sun is high and beaming down fiercely. The breeze, when it does run, is hot, bringing with it waves of heat that run through your bodies and can’t cool down with any open window or fluttering fan, raising the already high tensions that are forever set between your families.

Yet no matter how high the tensions are, how many whispers are passed, and side glares are shot, none of that affects you, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, or Daeron.

Besides, today on the hottest day of summer is Daeron’s last day in the Red Keep. After today he will leave for Old Town until gods know when to become a ward…

.

.

.

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A/N- For story purposes Daeron was apart of everyone’s childhoods, he won’t be forgotten here!

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber @rosey1981 @amortentiaaaa

[gldrushsblog]

SUGAR AND SIN | JK

🧁✧ ˚. TITLE: Sugar and Sin.

🧁✧ ˚. PAIRING: Mafia boss! Jungkook x female oc

🧁✧ ˚. BLURB: Aurora assumes a pounding headache and overbearing anxiety were the worst she could experience after witnessing a murder. The gun-wielding stranger from last night is here to prove otherwise.

🧁✧ ˚. GENRE: Mafia au, grumpy x sunshine, forced proximity, slow burn, dark romance, crime/thriller.

🧁✧ ˚. WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, guilt, and anxiety.

🧁✧ ˚. TAGS: oc is STRUGGLING, also she likes cereals

🧁✧ ˚. A/N: I'm sorry if you feel like the chapters are too short, but the word limit is gonna be somewhere around this for like 8 chapters or something. But I promise things are still gonna happen 😅 thank you for reading 💕💕

🧁✧ ˚. TAG LIST: @scuzmunkie... (Please do let me know if any of you want to be added too.)

CHAPTER 2: AURORA

Pain.

A dull throb.

Was the first thing aurora registered in the back of her head as she started to gain consciousness.

another thing she registered was the familiar softness of her mattress under her weight and warmth of her sheets enveloping her whole. Not her body bound by chains in a dark room. To say it was surprising would be an understatement.

She blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand, and pushed herself upright with a soft hiss. The throbbing behind her skull reminded her of how she’d ridiculously passed out , probably hitting her head on the way down.

Even if she had her consciousness back, her mind was a mess of a haze, trying to grasp at the incidents that happened the night before. Was it even real? Was her mind playing tricks on her?

If it was, it was one hell of a gruesome trick.

But she knew it wasn't even if she tried to convince herself otherwise. The scene played again in her head—the man bleeding out on the floor of her bakery, the lifeless thud as his body collapsed, and those cold, empty eyes of the man who’d pulled the trigger.

How the did she even get back here? How the hell did she get back alive and not become the second dead body lying down there at the floor of her bakery?

The image made the nausea bubble up again. With that, many others feelings also rose up. She always felt a little too much- that was her curse.

Yet before she could go back to dissecting each one of them throughly, her phone rang on the bedside table. Didn't- did'nt she leave her phone there too?

But the more horrifying information would be that there are 29 missed calls from Lia with another one incoming right now. She was probably at the bakery right now.

Picking up the phone, the gasp that left her mouth after reading the time couldn't be helped. 12:00 am. Maybe her impending death was for her blonde haired friend's to have.

Taking a deep breath, she answered the phone, the sound of her best friend exhaling heavily following right after. The calm before the storm.

"Aurora Beckett." There it was. She only called her by her full name when she was mad. Pissed, even.

"H-Hi, Lia." She greeted, mustering the best imitation of her chirpy voice when she was not on the verge of throwing up after the memories of a murder she witnessed stayed fresh in her mind.

"Don't 'hi, lia' me after ghosting my worried ass. Where were you? Is everything okay? You didn't even text me last night to inform that you've got home?" She started going on and on like the mother figure she had grown to be, and Aurora almost spilled like the dead guy's brains did last night.

Speaking of that- "I-I am. I'm super fine like really. Just had a little migraine last night and slept in a little longer than usual." She spoke in the most convincing tone she could and hoped she'd believe since migraines were pretty common with her.

"Are you at the bakery right now?" Aurora spoke again before Lia could bombard her with questions she didn't want to answer right now. "Yes, I am. And don't you go on changing the topic. I keep telling you not to overwork yourself, and God forbid you ever listen." Lia wasn't the talkative one yet when she got all mama bear mode, she would go against her usual nature.

"I'm fine, Lia. Please stop exploiting your blood pressure." She sighed in response before speaking again, in a much quieter tone. "E-Everything's okay at the bakery, right?"

There was a silence for a moment from her side, and yet Aurora could still hear the clear confusion.

"Why wouldn't it be? And look at you worrying for four walls of bricks rather than yourself? Rory, you worry me."

Aurora chose to focus on the former. Everything was fine. No blood to clean. No dead bodies to report. Right. Like hell didn't itself dominate the space and kill a man in its way last night.

"Everything worries you, Lia." She replied as a matter of fact. The statement being reason enough for her best friend to be the last person she should be sharing the occurrence of last night.

"Also, do you mind if I take this day off? I could use some more rest." Going to the place where she witnessed a murder happening was not the ideal thing to do. That much she was aware of.

"Finally a sensible decision. Of course you're gonna stay home and I'll be bringing you dinner sometime later. That is not up for any negotiation."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare." She huffed out before her voice grew quieter again or rather softer. "Thank you, Lee. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"

"You will. Bye, rory. Take care, okay?" With that, Aurora was again left with the silence of her troubling thoughts.

They didn't leave her side when she got up from bed and walked to the shower to let water drain the tightness of her muscles. They didn't leave when she ate her favorite brand of cereals in brunch, trying to pretend everything was normal. But nothing was. 

How could it be? How could she? Go on with her life, engage herself in mundane tasks like nothing ever happened?

The guilt was weighting down on her, but so was the fear that a certain something or someone was now out there for her after she made herself the sole witness of such heinous crime.

Yet the former won. Of course, she was certain that doom was on its way. But not if she goes to the police first.

She would tell them all that happened, tell them the way the devil with no mercy and his shadows backing him up snatched a life out of an innocent being, how they promised something similar to her. She would.

Crossing over the short space of her living room, she got inside her room to get changed. she tried to convince herself that she was ready to face the world and do something good. Something right.

It didn't take long before she stepped out of her room in one of her overly floral dresses with a cardigan wrapped around her shoulders for the autumn wind. She liked to take her time in the shower, but that also birthed a lot of unnecessary thoughts. A thing she wasn't mentally prepared for right now.

And neither was she for the sight in front of her.

"Going somewhere, baker girl?"

The devil from her darkest nightmare has now escaped her head and was sparwled out on the couch-her couch.

To be continued..

┈➤Previous chapter.

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 11

@flufftober

Prompt(s): Ingredients, potions, spells

Pairing: sick!Loki x gn!reader

Tags/warnings: Loki (he's a warning), descriptions of cold/flu symptoms, gn!reader, feverish confessions (but it's sweet I promise), mutual pining

Summary: Loki gets sick and reader takes care of him :)

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: I thought of this when I was sick myself haha. Most of these remedies are what I use when I'm ill and they work a treat. And for a special treat for you dear reader, here's the Roasted Garlic and Potato Recipe I use (minus the nutritional yeast - and I use single cream not vegan).

Also, don't know why I keep writing stuff that's mostly 2k? Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment because I realise towards the end that I'm not writing a novel? Who knows. Enjoy! - Love, Grem x

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It started with sniffles.

You’d raised your eyebrows at Loki when he sniffed softly, but frequently, the warning signs of the impending flu clear to only you. Somehow, the irony of a frost giant having a cold wasn’t lost on you either.

“Are you feeling alright?” You asked when Thor was out of earshot. If one thing would put Loki on edge it would be his adoring brother fretting over him.

Loki sniffed again and cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”

His usually smooth voice was gravelly and hoarse, another sign that he was most definitely not fine. You frown softly. You don’t want to push him; you’d gradually worked up a friendly bond with the God of Mischief, at least you thought you had, and you didn’t want to blow it all up. Still, your eyes rake over Loki’s face worriedly, noting the redness around his nose and the missing mischievious glimmer in Loki’s bleary eyes.

Loki narrows his eyes at you, sensing your worry and prickling with defiance. “What?”

“Nothing.” You squeak, snapping your head back to the papers you’d been reading. Maybe this was how ill he’d get he was a god after all. Yet you had a nagging feeling that it would get worse.

Shuffling your papers together, mind made up, you begin to rise to your feet. You can feel Loki’s gaze on you as you pack your bag and try to ignore it, trying to hurry as much as possible.

“I need to run some errands,” you tell him hoisting your bag onto your shoulder. You look over and give him a gentle smile. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

Loki huffs in response, clearly believing that he wouldn’t need a mere mortal’s help for anything. You head to the door, waving at Loki before you step through the threshold. Once you’re out of sight, you walk at a breakneck pace to the nearest convince store to do some last minute shopping for the incoming storm you predict.

The following morning, Loki can’t breathe.

His sniffles became worse and  no amount of healing spells made a dent. The headache he thought was Thor, turned out to be a real headache and worst of all, he was hot all over. The burning sensation rolled over him in waves, leaving him sweaty and uncomfortable. He could barely sleep with the stuffy humidity of his body and he thought he may die. We’re frost giants meant to be so hot?

Loki could barely keep his eyes open. He hadn’t felt this ill since he was a child. His heart constricted as he remembered his mother, Freya, fussing over him and caring for him in a pathetic snotty state as a child. She made sure he was cared for, spoiled and well-fed. Tears stung at his eyes in the dark room and he cursed softly, the pain in his sinuses worsening as the threat of tears triggered a new onslaught of snot to build painfully in the bridge of his nose.

The door to his room creeper open, golden light spilling in making him squint angrily. Was it not enough that he was sick with a human affliction, but to be assaulted with bright lights too? But then your head peeked in, and Loki’s breathing hitched – causing him to cough violently into his covers.

“Loki? You okay?” you ask, knowing it’s a stupid question. “Can I come in?”

“I’m fine,” He croaks, turning onto his side. God’s, how embarassing. “Just a bit under the weather.”

You enter his room, tentatively stepping towards the bed and kneeling before him. Loki barely registers your presence, his green eyes looking up at you and struggling to stay open. Any other time he would have equipped about you finally knowing your place before a god, but he’s too tired, too sick, to care. His eyes flutter and he sighs with content when he feels a cool palm press on his sweaty forehead. He leans meekly into your palm and looks up into your worried fface.Your palm is soft and soothes his aching body better than any of the healing spells he’d tried.

And Its probably the fever, but you look ethereal. Loki smiles at you, a dazed smile, but a smile nonetheless. No sneer, no smirk, a genuine smile.   

“You’re burning up,” you say, voice laced with concern. You ignore they way your heart skips as he smiles at you, brushing it away as delirium. You go to move your hand, but Loki’s face follows, chasing the cool calm your palm offers. You sigh a little. Your gut feeling had been right; he is worse. You were glad to have gone to the store to get the ingredients for remedies you knew would help ease the symptoms and speed up recovery.   “Stay here, I won’t be long.”

Loki humphs, which turns into a wracking cough. You hastily remove yourself and head to the common area of the tower. You’d already prepared food the night before so setting up a large tray with an assortment foods was quick.  You pulled out your pre-made bowl of roasted garlic and potato soup and stuff it into the microwave whilst the kettle boils, slicing rounds of lemon, orange and ginger and adding them to a large mug  with honey.  You breathe in the aromatics smells of citrus and garlic melded together, wondering if Loki would heal quicker because he’s a god, or if he'd be defeated by the common cold.

When the microwave dings, interrupting your thoughts, you remove the bowl of soup giving it a quick stir before setting it on the tray with the  rest of the cold-beating snacks you’d bought the day before. You look down at the tray with a sheepish smile. Maybe you had gone overboard; cold and flu tablets, a box of tissues,  homemade soup, bread, honey-and-lemon drink.... and you had isotonic drinks to help with fluid retention.

Yeah.

You had gone overboard.

You carry the tray precariously back to Loki’s room. Pushing the door with your foot, you re-enter the dark room.

“I’m back.” You say into the darkness, waiting for your eyes to adjust. You place the tray beside his bed, and turn on his bedside lamp.

“Hng?”

“Here, let me help you sit up.” Loki meekly swats you away, but he’s too weak to prop himself up without assistance, and begrudgingly concedes to allow you to help him. Your arms wrap around is chest, slotting under his shoulder to help shimmy him upwards before fluffing a pillow behind his head. Loki is frowning slightly, and if you weren’t so concerned about his health, you’d notice he was blushing.

“I’ve brought you some food. You need to eat before you take any medicine.” You give him a soft smile. “And I brought tissues.”

“Hmph.” Loki huffs, glancing to the tray you’d set down. His chest tightens when he sees everything you’ve brought. You must have planned this. Maybe you cursed him somehow?

“Did you... put a spell on me?:

“What? No. Loki you know I can’t use magic.” You chuckle at the absurdity of his question and pick up the bowl of soup. On autopilot you scoop some onto the spoon and guide it to his lips. Loki leans forward slightly, eyeing you suspiciously, but opens his mouth to accept your offering. He can’t taste anything, but as soon as the creamy texture hits his tongue his stomach growls. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was.  He weakly reaches for the bowl and spoon, which you gladly hand to him, and forces himself to eat slowly. Loki hums with delight as he eats , the warm soup soothing his throat and filling his stomach. Whatever you had made was making him feel better already. He wished he could taste it and was overcome with that same fluttery feeling his his chest whenever you were around.

His cedar green eyes rise over the spoon to meet yours and in a quiet voice he mumbles, “Thank you.”

You give him another smile. “No problem. Happy to help.”

The feeling in Loki’s chest increased, tightening almost uncomfortably. Your presence had already helped with the fever, now the hunger. You were slowly but surely making him better just by being near him. Being your silly, idiotic, caring, kind human self.

“You don’t have to.” He thickly after another spoonful. His eyes are downcast, almost ashamed. He hadn’t made it easy to be befriended by you, but you had been patient with him and accepted him as part of the team without so much as a second thought. Over time, Loki had developed a liking to you and he hated that. Feelings for a human? No. Not Loki. He just favoured you above the rest. With your beautiful smile you always gave him and the way your eyes twinkled when he’d get one over on Tony or Thor, even if you were reprimanding him or shaking your head. And of course, the way you made an effort to speak with him everyday; even if it was a quick hello. Treating him with a kindness that no one else offered.

“I know. I want to.” You say firmly. “I can leave you be, obviously, but you just need to call me and I’ll get you what you need.”

You push some of his unruly hair out of his face whilst he eats and his eyes flutter closed briefly. Your heart warms at the sight. You were infatuated with the God who was a black cat personified. Handsome wasn’t even a befitting word for Loki but it was the best you could come up with at short notice. His eyes were so green you wondered if emeralds would be jealous of the hue and you always found yourself enraptured by them. Too bad you were just a human.

Loki considers your words carefully, a wave of heat creeping up his neck that had nothing to do with the fever. Selfishly, he didn’t want you to leave. In fact, he wanted you to stay so badly it made his stomach churn with excitement but he was a god  and the whole thing was supposed to be beneath him-

“Please stay.” Loki whispers, ignoring pestering thoughts. He’d worry about consequences later, as usual. He was too tired to argue. You only nod in response, but your body sings with happiness.

Once Loki has finished eating you clear away the bowl and hand him two flu tablets and the mug of citrusy goodness. Loki’s large hands envelop the mug entirely whilst he sips, humming again at the soothing feeling that you and your food bring him.

“What is this potion?” He asks, sinking further back into his pillows.

“it’s lemon and honey, with ginger and orange.” You lean back onto your palms, watching him like a hawk. “It’s hardly a potion.”

Loki humphs quietly, not quite believing you, but continues to drink it. It’s not long before he’s drifting to sleep, the fullness of eating and the comfort you bring quelling the sickness that wracks his body. You gently pry the half drunk mug from his hands. Loki can barely keep his head up, leaning onto your shoulder as his eyelids fighting to stay open but his sleepy sighs are winning the battle.

He hums quietly and murmurs something you can’t quite make out. When you ask him to repeat himself he obliged, but remains ever so haughty about the fact you didn’t hear his incoherent mumblings.

“I said,” He huffs. “You are my favourite.”

“Favourite?” You chuckle. “Is it hard to be your favourite?”

Loki frowns slightly and cuddles closer. You smell nice and you’re warm. Enrapturingly so.

“Yes – but you. You. You’re different.”

“Oh?” for a moment you feel smug, until he continues.

“Infuriating.”

“Oh.” You roll your eyes to yourself. That one was on you.

“Captivating.” Loki’ tone is wistful, teetering on feverishly dream-like, but you perk up nonetheless. “Beautiful.”

“Oh...”

You look down at his form lying against your shoulder. He looks so different now, vulnerable, a cocoon of his usual self and it makes your heart melt. You were sweet on him and the feverish confessions were making your heart do somersaults.

“Make me feel so... nice and fuzzy,” he huffs out gently, slumping more and more against you. “You’ve cursed me.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a flustered giggle. Your cheeks are bright and so hot that you worry you may catch Loki’s cold. You wish you could record this moment; knowing that Loki would deny, deny, deny ever saying these things when he was better.

“To feel... fuzzy?” you try not to snicker but it’s too cute.

“Yes.” Loki hisses, turning his face against your collar bone. His skin his warm and sweaty and worry prickles at you again.

“You’re clammy,” You comment, going to move to grab the head towel. However, Loki’s arm wraps around you, holding you loosely but stopping you from moving away. “Loki?”

“Stay.” His voice is so quiet you barely hear it. The soft plea making your resolve break instantly. “You make it better. You make me better. Please don’t leave me.”

“Of course I'll stay. For as long as you need me.” You say gently and you hunker down next to Loki, wrapping him in your arms. You move hair from his face and his green eyes flicker to you briefly with a small sniffle.

“Do you swear it?” He murmurs.

“I swear it.” You murmur back without hesitation. Content with your answer, Loki pulls you closer and cuddles into you. You murmur sweet nothings to him as he drifts to sleep in your arms.

You stay with Loki until his sickness passes. Unwavering in your promise to him and as he recovers, his feelings for you grow tenfold.

So when you inevitably get ill, Loki remains by your side, just as you had for him. Once you’re both recovered, you’re inseparable.

[milkman-zahhak]

Shane drawing + written fic to accompany it

WARNING, THIS IS A KINK POST, A FETISH POST. IT WILL CONTAIN FETISH CONTENT, SUCH AS BELLIES FULL OF FOOD AND WHATNOT, CHECK THE TAGS FOR THE WHOLE RUNDOWN.

Hello, enjoy another drawing of Shane based off of some in-game dialogue.

Idk if this is base-game, part of one of the many dialogue mods I have installed, or one of the lines I added into the game's code myself to practice modding and to get used to editing dialogue files. I'd say the latter but I don't remember ever typing this so.. idk. Just assuming it's canon for now lol.

Anyways here's the drawing:

+ a short lame-ass gif attempt

I know it's terrible, I wish I could blur it or something so you could choose whether to see it or not, but oh well. Here's what you're probably all looking for, sorry again if my writing is bad, I haven't proofread it or anything, otherwise I would see what I wrote, and decide not to post it ever! So as usual this is all getting posted RAW and UNCUT!!1! That's why I post both the drawing and the writing- so that if one sucks, maybe the other will impress you and save the poor failure of a post. ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Shane sat back on the worn couch in their cozy farmhouse living room, licking the last bit of greasy residue from his fingers with a satisfied sigh. The empty plate in front of him was a testament to the gluttony that had taken hold of him, scattered with crumbs of one of his favorite snacks, pepper poppers. The farmer always made sure to keep the fridge stocked with them in case Shane got hungry while his husband was too busy to cook for him, since Shane's culinary skill peaked at reheating pre-existing meals in a microwave. Shane usually tries to be a bigger help around the farm when he can, doing what he knows best and caring for all of the animals (mostly the chickens) while his husband tended to the crops and went out foraging. All that hardworking farmer stuff. But today was rainy and stormy, the kind of day Shane liked to spend inside the house. He'd went out to the barn and the coop that morning and made sure the animals were okay, but that was about as much physical activity he had since waking up. Meanwhile, despite Shane's concerns and warnings to him, his husband insisted that he go out and fish in the storm, saying "Certain kinds of fish only come out in this weather, Shane. Besides, the rain means I don't need to water the crops today, I can get other chores done!"

So here he was, sitting on his ass in the house watching TV, the entire stock of pepper poppers he'd saved up for a day like this in front of him, or rather, the remainders of it. He had lost count of how many he had consumed, but it was undoubtedly more than he could handle. A warm, uncomfortable pressure began to build in his stomach, causing it to swell noticeably beneath his shirt. He looked down at his belly, which now protruded like a beach ball, and couldn't help but chuckle softly. The spicy treat had become somewhat of a weakness for him, and his husband knew it all too well.

"Oh, oh wow.. The farmer's gonna be home soon, and I'm such a mess", Shane thought, running a hand over his distended stomach. The heavy sensation of fullness and the audible rumbles signaling an incoming tummy ache were worrying, but he couldn't deny the strange satisfaction that came with it. He shifted his position, attempting to alleviate some of the discomfort, only to feel a loud gurgle reverberate throughout his torso. The sound made him blush, and he glanced around the room, hoping that no one else had heard it before remembering that he was home alone. Even if he wasn't, he had a hunch that his husband wouldn't mind seeing him like this anyways. Another gurgle echoed through his intestines, followed by an unmistakable sensation of gas brewing inside of him. Shane leaned to the side, carefully straining as a short, quick puff rushed out from behind him into his seat. "nhfh.." He grunted, holding back a cough as the scent of digesting pepper poppers lingered in the air.

With a groan, Shane shifted his weight on the couch, the couch creaking underneath him as he tried to sit up straight but ultimately slouched back down, regretting trying to preserve his dignity. His stomach gave another loud growl, followed by a series of smaller rumbles that made him cringe. "Pepper poppers, why do you have to taste so good but hurt me so bad?" Shane muttered to himself, rubbing his belly tenderly.

He knew all too well that they didn't agree with him sometimes. They'd make him feel bloated, gassy, and sometimes even give him heartburn and indigestion depending on how much he decided to pig out, but damn if they weren't worth it. He glanced over at the clock on the wall, realizing that his husband would be home soon.

"I should probably clean up this mess before he gets back", Shane thought, looking at the empty plates and greasy napkins littering the coffee table. He slowly pushed himself off the couch, letting out a small burp as he did so. He paused for a moment, waiting for any more gas to escape before he began to gather up the remnants of his indulgent day. His insides were churning up a storm but nothing else seemed to come out just yet. As he bent over to collect some of the napkins that fell on the floor, another gurgle sounded from his stomach, followed by a sharp pain that made him wince.

"Fuck," Shane cursed under his breath, clutching at his swollen midsection. He straightened up carefully, trying to ignore the discomfort as he made his way to the kitchen. Each step he took sent small tremors through his body, making him hyper-aware of every little movement in his stomach.

When he finally reached the kitchen, he deposited the plate into the sink and napkins in the trash can and took a deep breath, leaning against the counter for support. He couldn't help but feel self-conscious about his bloated appearance. He knew his husband loved him no matter what, but Shane couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.

At this moment, the doorknob jiggled and he heard the front door creak open. It's as if the universe was reading his mind and taunting him. "Hey honey, I'm back! I caught a bunch of neat fish today! I think we might need more Wild Bait though because…" The farmer's words trailed off as he caught sight of Shane in the kitchen, his eyes drifting downwards onto the poor man's swollen belly. Shane could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as his husband's gaze swept over him, taking in the sight of his distress.

"Shane? Are you alright? You look…" the farmer trailed off, concern evident in his voice.

Shane forced a sheepish smile, taking his hand off of his belly, trying to play it cool despite the discomfort. "Urgh.. Y-Yeah, honey, I'm fine, just… *hic* ate too many pepper poppers…" he admitted, quickly going back to rubbing at his stomach again. He could feel the gas building up inside him, threatening to escape at any moment. He hoped that the farmer wouldn't notice, but the man had always been perceptive.

The farmer's eyes narrowed, and Shane knew that he wasn't fooling him one bit. "How many did you have? I mean, I have a whole chest of ingredients in the shed so I can always make you more, but I really thought this time I'd made you enough." he asked, a hint of amusement lacing his tone.

Shane shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to admit the truth. "You did, you made more than enough, sweetie…" Shane paused to let out a belch, only for it to get caught in his throat, the moment passing uncomfortably. "I just… I wasn't paying attention, and I ate more than enough." he mumbled, looking away. No point in feigning innocence now, not if he wanted any help with his developing bellyache.

The farmer chuckled, crossing the room to stand behind him. He wrapped his arms around Shane's waist, pulling him close so that his back was pressed against the farmer's own body. Shane let out a small squeak of surprise, followed by a louder gurgle from his stomach. The farmer's laughter grew louder at the sound, and Shane couldn't help but join in, despite the embarrassment.

"You know they always do this to you, snack-food is supposed to be eaten in moderation, y'know." the farmer said, kissing the back of Shane's neck.

Shane nodded, wincing slightly as another rumble echoed through the kitchen, the cause of which staying irritatingly trapped inside his stomach "Yeah, I know," he replied. "But I couldn't resist. ugh.. They taste so much better after being microwaved." The farmer's hand slid up to rub circles on Shane's distended belly, "Mmhmm, and I bet it's so easy to just keep eating without even thinking about it when they're all… soft and squishy.."

Shane rolled his eyes, the irony of such a description was not lost on him. The farmer couldn't resist teasing Shane some more, rubbing his hands over the swollen belly and giving it a few gentle pats. Shane's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as the movement caused more gas bubbles to form and shift. "You're adorable, you look like you're pregnant, haha! " the farmer laughed, his fingers tracing patterns on the taut flesh "Kidding, haha. Swallowing seems to be your strong-suit no matter the situation, huh?"

Shane tried to play it off, swatting at the farmer's hand weakly. "Stop!" he said between giggles and groans, "It's not funny!" But deep down, he knew that his husband's touch was helping him relax, even if it made things worse temporarily. The farmer was always so attentive, always knowing just what to do to make him feel better. And just what to say to get under his skin and make him squirm.

Just then, Shane's stomach gave a particularly loud growl, followed by a deep, low burp, like a warning signal. "*bhrrruurup*… uh, 'scuse me.." The farmer's grin faltered slightly, his eyes flickering to Shane's face as he felt the tension return to his husband's body. "Oooohohooohhhh… " Shane moaned, clutching at his belly "f-fuck, they're really doing a number on me". The gas was building up inside him, pressing against his insides like a balloon ready to burst. He could feel the pressure increasing by the second.

"Come on," the farmer said, taking Shane by the hand and leading him back to the couch, "Let's get you comfortable."

The farmer sat Shane back down on the couch, his belly jiggling slightly from the effort it took to move. He sat down next to him and began rubbing his hand gently over his stomach, trying to ease the discomfort. Shane leaned back, letting out a couple of hiccups. "Fuck, that hurts," he muttered, trying relax himself. The farmer chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth and amusement as he continued to rub circles around Shane's navel. "Relax, dear. You know the drill by now." He was right, Shane had experienced this kind of thing many times before after indulging in his favorite foods. His stomach was just sensitive.

Or maybe his favorite foods being greasy, cheesy pizza, soda, peppers, and spicy pepper poppers was the culprit behind his frequent tummy troubles- but as he's said before, he'd rather die before abstaining from any of those foods.

As the farmer's hands kneaded gently into the surface of Shane's aching belly, they loosened up a few air bubbles that were previously trapped. Shane's gasps and groans were interrupted by airy little burps. "There we go~" the farmer cooed, enjoying the little moans that followed almost every time his husband burped. For as much relief as they brought him in the moment, more gas was building inside of him rapidly as his stomach tried to digest everything. Shane knew this was only the beginning of what was bound to be a long night. The farmer leaned down, pressing his ear against Shane's stomach, listening to the symphony of sounds emanating from within. "Sounds like your stomach's waging a war on you in there." he joked, his breath tickling Shane's skin. Shane groaned in embarrassment, but couldn't help but laugh a little, too. The farmer always knew how to lighten the mood. But as his nimble fingers dug into the sensitive flesh of his lower belly, Shane's laughter turned into moans of both pleasure and discomfort. He couldn't deny that there was something erotic about this situation, even though he knew it shouldn't be. "*hic-uuurp.. uuurp*... ughhh, feels… so tight.." He whined.

Shane flinched as his intestines let out a sickly rumble, he knew his husband could feel and hear it from the outside. "Just let it out, it's gotta happen at some point" the farmer whispered, his hand now firmly kneading Shane's lower stomach. Shane nodded, biting his lip. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let go. A loud, long fart echoed inside the room, making them both laugh uncontrollably.

The tension dissipated as the gas escaped, and Shane slumped back onto the couch, relieved for a moment "oh fuck, finally.." he sighed. As the minutes passed, Shane's burps became more frequent and less forceful - small puffs of air escaping his lips like a steam engine letting off steam. He shifted on the couch, farting once more. "Buhhhh.. I don't feel good.."

He was a burpy mess. He struggled to speak between them "I'm so *uuurp* bloated" he whined, looking down at himself with disgust. His stomach was round and hard, protruding against his shirt. He felt each gurgle and bubble as his stomach contents churned like a pot of boiling soup- if the soup was made entirely of pepper poppers and grease. He couldn't believe how much he'd eaten - it felt like he'd never be able to move again. *hic…… hic….*

"oh no, f- *hic* fuck.." Shane moaned. each hiccup jostled his already sensitive belly. He put both his hands on the sides of his poor bloated belly, trying to keep it steady while his husband rubbed it. Suddenly, another hiccup shook Shane's frame, only this time it was accompanied by air being forced out after being sucked in by the initial hiccup. His entire body tensed up and he let out a painful groan. "*hic-uuurp* fuck, that h- *hic-uoorrrp* guh… hurts.." The farmer's hand paused mid-rub, looking down at his husband with a mix of concern and arousal "Aw, you poor thing. I can't stop hiccups.. um, just…. Try not to swallow too much air?" Shane whimpered in response "*hic* can't.. help it.. *hic-uuurp* ow… oooohhh.. *hic-uurlp* ow…" "Just hang in there," the farmer reassured him, rubbing his back now. they were both a bit less talkative for a few minutes as Shane groaned in pain. Eventually his hiccups became less frequent, replaced instead by deeper and wetter belches. but the whole ordeal of uncontrollable hiccups still left Shane exhausted. "*buuuuurp* ugggh… so gurgly… *buuuu-ulp* oooh.." Shane managed to say through clenched teeth.

The farmer nodded sympathetically, rubbing Shane's back with slow, comforting circles. He couldn't help but admire the way his husband's belly moved with every burp, the firmness of it beneath his hands. It was fascinating, in a weird sort of way. The farmer moved in closer next to Shane, resuming his gentle massages on his husband's stomach. His hands moved in slow, deliberate circles, trying to coax any remaining gas out gently.

Shane's breathing was deep and labored, his chest rising and falling with each exhale. "ngh… ohhhhh.. *frrrrrt pffffrr-brrpt* ah.." Shane trembled as he felt pressure building near his backside, unable to hold anything back. After a small toot, realizing it was only another fart, Shane actively pushed a little bit, forcing the air out. "Better?" the farmer asked.

The farmer's touch was soothing, his concern evident as he continued to massage Shane's belly. Shane couldn't deny the strange mix of embarrassment and arousal he was feeling - it wasn't everyday someone else got to see him in such a state. But something about his husband's tender massages made him feel cared for and safe. He nodded weakly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Y-yeah.. thank you." He murmured, leaning into the farmer's touch.

The farmer smiled, his thumb pressing against Shane's belly button as he worked his way around the taut surface. The pressure built again, and Shane even try to hold anything in. He let out a long, wet fart, followed almost immediately by a hefty burp. The farmer laughed softly under his breath. "Good boy." He praised, leaning in to plant a kiss on Shane's cheek. Shane's face reddened at the praise, but he couldn't help but feel a spark of arousal at the gentle dominance in his husband's tone. He bit his lip, trying to contain himself as the farmer's hands continued to work their magic. His belly felt a tiny bit lighter now, the gas slowly leaving his body. The farmer's hands moved lower, accidentally brushing against Shane's crotch. He let out a small yelp at the sudden contact, his erection straining against the fabric of his pants almost as much as his belly strained against his waistband.

"Sorry," He mumbled, turning his face away and burying it in his hands. "It's just… you know.. *uuurp* mmph, you.. You're touching me so much.. a-and rubbing me…" he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. The farmer chuckled again, his hand resting lightly on Shane's hip. "It's okay, sweetheart." He said softly, giving Shane's side a gentle squeeze. "We've been married for years, I know how your body works." He paused, his eyes meeting Shane's briefly before looking away. "And honestly, it's adorable."

The farmer's words sent another wave of heat through Shane, his embarrassment giving way to full-fledged arousal. He shifted slightly, trying to adjust himself without drawing too much attention. But it was no use - every movement seemed to shake his overstuffed belly, reminding him of his predicament. He could feel the farmer's eyes on him, taking in every detail.

"W-why are you looking at me like that?" Shane stammered, trying to sound playful but failing miserably. The farmer's gaze softened as he reached out and cupped Shane's cheek, turning his face towards him. "Because I find you incredibly sexy right now," he admitted, his voice low and husky. Shane's eyes widened in shock before a small smile tugged at his lips. He couldn't believe it - he felt like such a mess, but the farmer found him attractive?

Shane's smile grew wider, a sense of warmth spreading throughout his body. He couldn't believe that his husband found him attractive even in such an unflattering state. He leaned into the touch, nuzzling against the farmer's palm like a content cat. The farmer's thumb traced circles on his cheek as they sat there in silence for a few moments, enjoying the simple intimacy between them.

However, the peace didn't last long. With a loud groan, Shane's stomach protested again, reminding them both that he still had quite a bit of digesting to do. He winced, his hand flying to his belly as it spasmed painfully. The farmer's expression shifted back to concern, his hand moving from Shane's cheek to his stomach to comfort him. "Do you need anything else?" He asked gently. Shane shook his head, biting his lip to stifle another burp. He didn't want to ruin the moment, but he couldn't deny the discomfort he was still in.

"Nah.." He said finally, "Just.. *urp* need to let my belly settle.. whoof…" He took a deep breath, trying to calm his stomach. The farmer nodded, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on Shane's belly. They sat like that for a while longer, Shane burping and farting helplessly. The farmer secretly hoped that the storm outside would continue through the night and into tomorrow. Not for the fishing opportunities, but because maybe he did need a good rainy day off at home.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[kiddbegins]

Texting - Matt Casey

Requested: yes

Word count: 436

A/n: sorry it’s tiny but I think it’s cute

Masterlist

Texting you cheesy things that they know will make you blush while you’re at work (engaged - doctor at med)

If there was one thing that Matt Casey was, it was a love struck doofus. He always gave his all to those he loved. You were no different.

The problem though was the conflict of shifts. His 24 hours along with your daily 12’s. It wasn’t the easiest thing to make work.

But you guys did. And now you were engaged and you were truly over the moon about it. The ring had picked out was perfect and if you didn’t know better you’d say he had it made custom.

Today you were at work, him simultaneously on shift in the middle of the crazy snow storm that was going on outside.

Winter always made you worry more and he knew that, so his slew of texts when he had the chance grew tenfold. Which you barely knew was possible.

‘I really can not wait for this shift to be over. I miss you.’

Your smile was wide as you read over the text from Matt, knowing this small breather at the vending machine was probably one of the few you’d gotten this shift, winter meant idiots driving stupidly in the snow and getting hurt.

It had been hell, helping patients left and right, barely any time to breathe. You sent out a brief reply ‘same here. I miss you too :(‘ before having to go back to work.

You felt the buzz of your phone in your coat pocket a while later, Maggie telling you about something that had to do with a patient that swirled in one ear and out the other as you read over yet another text from Matt.

‘It’s freezing but it’s getting closer to see you. Thought about what we should do yet? ;)’

A light blush crossed your cheeks as you stuffed the device away, turning to go to the patient but of course being cornered by said nurse.

“God that boy has you whipped as hell doesn’t he,” Maggie had nudged your side as you tried to hide the tinge to your face.

It was useless of course, especially with her. “He does not. I’m just happy to be marrying someone that I love, okay?” You said defensively, laughing at the end.

Those that knew you, knew the story of your ex and how horribly that ended. So the fact you found yourself a big, strong firefighter to get over them had all of them clapping their hands together.

Maggie hummed, nodding, “Uh-huh, and that love has you whipped. Incoming, you’re going to Baghdad.” She switched to instructor mode swiftly as her device beeped, the patient wheeling in seconds later.

JOIN MATTS TAGLIST HERE!

tags: @winchesterszvonecek, @halsteadbrasil, @wnbweasley, @firetruckstuckley

[spotaus]

Okay, putting a New Age au thing under the cut (likely a ramble-)

So, this one might come from my own hcs a bit too much. However, smth @ancha-aus (hope u don't mind the tag-) said about a situation in which newly teen Night would reach out to *Cross* if he was sick or feeling unwell? I thought a lil more and I ended up deciding that Cross is the most reliable one of the four to keep Nightmare to his word for his own good.

By that, I mean the others can't say no to Night when they have even an inkling he's uncomfortable, and while Cross definitely also would rather Night be comfy, he's also someone Night picked out for his willingness to follow orders. So, say, Night says Ccino is in charge if he falls ill. But, Ccino also has to manage a lot, so Ccino sets the guys to care for Night directly. Night reaches out to Cross, because he's aware even if he's sniffly and miserable, Cross *will* make him eat his dinner and get healing done. Killer? Would honestly probably just curl up around Night and make things worse and/or get himself sick too (<- has never cared for a sick person). Dust? Would try, but the moment Night looks even a bit more distressed than normal, he'd give up on trying to make him do what he doesn't want to. Horror? 2nd best to care for him, but he's also been known to... not but heads, just have a sort of inherent rivalry with Ccino regarding healing and rest (tradition stuff). So Cross? Cross would be the perfect storm of making sure Night feels secure and safe and comfy, while also using his Older Brother skills to get Night to stop being fussy and just do the things that will make him feel better.

On that same note! Cute brotherly things these nerds do w/ Night:

Dust loves playing traditional table games, like chess or checkers, with Night. It's a calm activity they can do together pretty much anywhere, and I know that Dust would bring it out anytime Night seemed down or stressed.

Horror? Horror loves to take trips to the countryside, buy when Night becomes small, it only makes sense for them to visit the gardens more often instead. Horror has a ridiculous amount of knowledge on flora since he lived out on the outskirts and used to farm/forage for a living. Night loves sitting under a tree with Horror after a long day.

Killer has... a lot he likes to do with Night. He's been here the longest, so he knows Night's hobbies thoroughly (Nightmare him go everywhere with him during paranoia episodes) but Killer enjoys the most reading with Night. Whether that's Night reading to him or vice versa. (I like to think Night might have taught his boys to read, or at least Horror and Killer, because I doubt they knew before-) It's his first instinct if Night I'd upset to grab a book. It was what helped him escape his episodes, and now it helps him calm from night terrors and decompress after stressful meetings.

Cross (headcanon incoming) really enjoys music. I think whenever he has the chance, he and Night will go to the music room, and Cross will play. He learned Cello when he was younger, alongside his training as a soldier, and it was one of the few times he was able to be around his siblings normally. Night knows the piano and viola (Dream learned Violin) so Night and Cross will play together sometimes, to decompress and to help Cross shake off that wall he puts up while he's working.

And! When Night was still running on the Apple Magic, their favorite group activity was always Sparring. The fighting was how Night taught the four to be so trusting of eachother, because he would tell them to incapacitate him as a team. If the worked together, they always has more fun and got used to trust eachother like an extra limb (Like Brothers). Night was always too swift for them to catch, most of the time, but it posed a challenge. When Night lost the apple magic, he never really got back that combat prowess he had before, so they couldn't spar the way they used to... To make up for it, Night and his brothers will sometimes have game nights that involve sparring challenges. Like, passing Night between eachother in fun ways, or hide and seek with him, or tags things that don't require Night to have amazing reflexes like he used to, that still let the group have fun!

Bonus Round for the side characters!

Error! Sometimes when Nightmare is really liking a story, Error will weave him a little "tapestry" of a scene out of his strings. Conversely, Night loves to sit and listen to Error ramble about his latest craft project or his new magical device. They bond over info dumping and insane passion for stuff. (Night is also allowed into Error's 'extra floors' which he weaves into the rooms with high ceilings as a safe-haven for himself.)

Ccino! They have an odd relationship, babysitter, turned confidant, turned... both? But Ccino loves when Night offers to help him make food. Like, at first it was a way to make sure Night didn't starve hinself, but then he kept ordering new interesting ingredients and recipes, and they bonded over the craft. It's a time when they both feel extremely at ease.

Lastly... I'm thinking about slipping Crop and Straw in as an homage to RealAge again, but idk where I'd plop them just yet! Maybe Crop is where Night sources a lot of supplies from? Maybe he's a guy who hid Night and a few of the guys after the first escape from Dream? We'll see lmao.

[littlespoonevan]

You can't say you have a specific call or scene in mind for those music choices and not share!!!

Anonymous asked: https://www.tumblr.com/littlespoonevan/752482136680005632/now-that-i-know-all-your-favourite-music-moments Can you tell us about the song call related that wins ?

okay i feel like i should've clarified i don't have like, Detailed scenes for most of those songs - just a general idea for the type of scene/call i could see it in askjdfhs but here is my take anyway:

I Was Made For Lovin’ You - KISS

ironically, i had an idea forever ago about a call to a movie set where an action stunt goes wrong so given this was the main song in the fall guy it feels very appropriate lmao. basically in my head there exists an episode about best friends where they keep getting calls about best friends and in this particular call, the two best friends are the stunt actors one and one of them confesses their love to the other in the midst of their panicked tangent while the other one is hurt/getting treated (yes this hypothetical episode ends with buddie feelings realisation obviously aksjdfh)

Barracuda - Heart

okay i don't have a specific scene for this but i do think it should match the energy of buck and eddie standing on top of the firetruck as it's moving to catch that sky diver in 3x11, like show me them doing something Cool

Time of the Season - The Zombies

i actually wanted this to be in the blackout arc lol. i think i was even talking to someone about it at the time too??? basically i thought it'd be Great as an opening montage song a la pressure in 2x01. and in line with that, i also think it'd be Great montage song if there was another heatwave (buddie secret relationship making out at the side of the firetruck a la bathena yes/yes?????)

California Dreamin’ - The Mamas & Papas

i wanted this to be in the season 6 opener askdjh i think it was when we were still theorising about the bathena cruise in s6 and the potential of a storm????? again, a very good opening montage song that could be a harbinger of an incoming disaster (i do believe it would work really well for a storm since you have the rain sounds at the beginning of the song and the contradiction of the lyrics)

Gimme, Gimme, Gimme - ABBA

i also wanted this to be in the blackout arc lmfao. look, when i accidentally predicted the blackout arc back in the summer before s5 i had a way more fUN arc planned in my head than what happened and having the lyrics 'Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away? Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Take me through the darkness to the break of the day' as part of an ep about a blackout is just very funny

i don't really have a specific call in mind for it but i do have a viscerally vivid image of buck jumping down from the truck like he did in the first call in treasure hunt while that song is playing overhead. also some people in the tags have suggested it playing on a call to a gay bar and i'd be very in favour of that askdjhf

Rasputin - Boney M.

this was originally the song i wanted playing in the stunt gone wrong scene lol

Everybody (Backstreet’s Back) - Backstreet Boys

i did literally just think of this one as i was making the poll but it would be so FUN!!!! halloween ep obviously, idk what context, but something along the lines of chim and the crow would be very funny. maybe something vampire-y/werewolf-esque to keep in theme with the music video. either way it should play during a call where the 118 is Freaked Out in an amusing way 👻

the poll is still active for another few hours if people feel like voting!! 🥰

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

5 Immortal Thor Thoughts

I know common courtesy is to wait a week before posting spoilers. I'm sorry. I'm tagging and putting it under a read more. (And I'm starting to run out of post ideas, so I can't wait a week.)

And here's your additional warning: Spoilers incoming, y'all.

1. "The Gods are creatures of story." When Al Ewing quotes himself it makes me feral. This time it's a good feral, but when he (Doom) referred to Peter Quill as "the lotus lord of the dance" after bestowing that rad as hell title on Loki first, I was pissed.

2. (Red underline by me) Al Ewing isn't even in the realm of fucking around. First mention of Loki and immediately out the gates, Ewing is like, 'Genderfluid Loki rights forever!' And everyone (mostly Thor, but other characters, too) maintain they/them pronouns for Loki throughout. Have I mentioned lately how much I love Al Ewing?

3. When I tell you I shrieked, and loudly! I had wondered if Ewing would hold off bringing Loki in until after the miniseries wrapped up, for continuity, because they're off on their own mission but--

HANG ON, IS THAT A CHIPPED TOOTH?! HELL YEAH, POST-EGO DEATH LOKI IS BACK, BABY!!!

4. I will not ship Fandral/Loki. I will not ship Fandral/Loki. I ship Loki with enough people. AO3 couldn't get me to ship it. The Loki Tumblr tag couldn't get me to ship it. I'll be damned if my favorite author gets me to ship it.

STOP FLIRTING, GODDAMMIT! I am a simple man, all I need is an interaction to make me insufferable for the next six weeks, don't do this to me!

Okay, LISTEN. This is where the real spoilers start. You have been warned.

5. So it's basically established in the introduction to the plot of this arc that Thor is not master of superstorms. That title belongs to a god of gods, Utgard-Thor. (And well, if we've got Utgard-Loki, it stands to reason there'd be an Utgard-Thor.) So as the might of Utgard-Thor starts wreaking havoc across New York, we get a panel of a Roxxon billboard blown down.

WHICH GOT ME THINKING. In the Loki show, when they find out where Sylvie is hiding out, they exit the Timedoor into a catastrophic storm in Haven Hills, outside of a Roxxcart, owned by the Roxxon corporation. Now, the Roxxon billboard itself is not part of this theory, it just made me think of this scene. Anyway, when they get there, Loki almost immediately looks up at the sky, like he's expecting to see Thor. Mobius looks at him, almost like he realizes what Loki's thinking, and then herds him forward, toward the store. This comic made me wonder if Mobius knows something about this storm Loki doesn't. This isn't just any storm; this is a superstorm. And so Thor isn't here. This is Utgard-Thor's doing.

I mean, are you really that surprised my thoughts around a Thor comic are only about Loki?

Bonus:

Look, he just gets it, okay? I can't wait to see what comes next.

[sirens-sanctuary]

Deception

. Miguel Ohara x fem!reader

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. FWC (final word count): 5619

. TW: Attempted suicide, violence, a small bit of angst, hating your parents?

. (this is gonna have multiple parts :3, and this is very much a slow build story sorrrry)

. authors note, masterlist, rules, and taglist below ;3

There you were. Standing on the ledge of HQ, staring down at the ground below you.

The wind was blowing calmly through your hair, a soothing feeling.

You stood there, eyes shut just thinking. You breathed in calmly, and out shaking.

You want to feel something. Anything at all.

You heard him call out your name. Thats when you leaned forward and allowed yourself to fall, letting go of your worries, and the tinge of betrayal you felt.

You let yourself fall, not shooting out a web to catch yourself. You opened your eyes, seeing the ground get closer and closer to you, almost. As the wind rushed between your fingers, you began to think.

'Why am I here?'

You shut your eyes again, the ground so close, as if you could caress the pavement. Images surging through your mind, taking you back. Way back.

~~~~~~~~~~

[1 month prior]

"What do you mean I can't draw anymore money out? It's my money- is it not?" You asked the bank teller, annoyed that she won't help you.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but without you having some kind of steady income I can't draw out more money for you. I know this was left to you by your parents but the businesses that they had open aren't functioning anymore. I'm sorry I really am." The bank teller tells you regrettably, placing her hand on top of yours.

You flicked her hand off yours and looked down in your lap, "Okay, so you're saying if I get a job I can get more money out?"

"Yes-" You stood up before she could say anything else blurting out a 'thanks' and storming out of the bank.

You thought about how your parents screwed you up. You hated them with every part of your being.

They tested on you as a kid, shoving test tubes in and out of you, pricking you with needles, feeding you disgusting liquids and serums, hooking you up to machines and moniters.

They tested on you with spider venom and blood. Exposing you to dangerous amounts of radiation and gamma rays. As much as you tried not to think about the torture you went through as a kid, wishing you could only remember small bits and pieces. But unfortunately, you remember everything.

The testing they did on you gave you spider-like abilities. You could climb walls, shoot out webs from your wrist, made you extra sensitive to sounds, you could feel the vibrations of everyone walking and other things alike. Just something your parents cursed you with.

Your parents died. They were killed, probably pissed someone off. 'Deserved' You thought to yourself. After they died you had to live with your uncle Micheal and his shitty girlfriend Beth. Uncle Mike died too, you were more than upset. He was your rock and *poof* he was gone. His girlfriend moved on and wanted nothing to do with you, you were cool with that.

Dragging yourself from your thoughts you opened up the door to a diner. The sweet smell of buttercream pancakes and syrup flood your nose, the smell so strong you could almost taste the bacon.

You sat down at a booth and waited for a waitres to come up to you.

After about 5 minutes, a short blonde woman with a round face came up to you with a pen and pad.

"What can I getcha darling?" She had a sweet southern accent, surprising since you're in the north. Her name tag said, 'Donna' in pretty cursive writing.

"I'm uh- I'm actually wondering if I could get a job here?"

Her eyes widen slightly, but smiles softly.

"Yes of course sugar~ I'll be right back!"

You smile back at her and watches as she trails to the back of the diner.

As people begin to place their tips down and leave you realize how small and empty the place is.

The lady comes back with an equally as short and stubby man. A tall and lanky man comes out from the kitchen as well with a broom, he gives you a toothy grin.

'I'm gonna like it here.'

[2 weeks later]

You were wiping down tables and brushing crumbs on the floor. The lanky man you first met 2 weeks ago hands you a bottle of vinegar.

"Thanks Randy." You give Randall, or Randy as you like to call- him a smile when you grab the bottle from him. You spray small spurts on the table and wipe them down.

John; the stubby man from before, walks out from the kitchen and grabs a remote. He points the remote towards the small box tv in the corner of the diner and places his hands on his hips, flicking between channels before stopping on the news.

"Oh my god..." Donna says as she drops the broom on the floor and brings her hands to cover her mouth.

You flick your eyes up to the box tv, hearing everyone's cries coming from it. The sound of the news reporter being drowned out as you look at the villain on tv.

She's nothing you've ever seen before. She's different than the other villains you usually fight.

She was a tall, 7-8 feet. She was semi-reptile with dark green hair and piercing yellow eyes.She was scaling the side of the empire state...

It looked like she didn't belong here...

You snapped out of your trance and began to speak up.

"I uh I have to um go- I have to uh... i have a doctors appointment."

You began to rush towards your bag, the bag that has your spider suit in it.

"Johnny we should just tell her we know.." Donna says in a hushed voice.

You freeze in your tracks.

'They know? How do they know?'  You weren't going to lie to them anymore. After these long two weeks Randy, Donna and John have become your...third family.

"H-how?" You say walking into the bathroom with your stuff. You slipped out of your work uniform quickly and put on your spider suit. You walk out the bathroom with your mask in hand looking at their faces.

"You leave at odd hours, or whenever someone is attacking the city," Randy speaks up giving you a somber look.

"I'm the one that brought up the bruises to everyone, wanted to make sure I wasn't the only one that saw them." John says chuckling a little to lighten the mood.

'I could've hidden those better' You think to yourself as you pull your mask on.

"Well. Guess it's out then. I'll be back, I always am."

You ran out of the diner, but looked back and waved before you slung out a web and pulled yourself away.

You swing from rooftop to rooftop, getting as close as you can to Empire state. You didn't even think as you swung yourself onto the building, scaling up the building faster than you ever have. The sounds of people screaming and glass breaking flooding your senses, your muscles screaming at you to stop climbing.

"HEY." You scream as you ram your foot into the reptiles face, barreling her inside the building.

"Who the fuck are you- what are you?"

"Fia."  She growls her name at you as she lunges forward, gripping you in between her large hands.

You two are falling through the air, getting closer and closer to the ground.

You punch at Fia but she doesn't let go.

You begin to tear up, thinking this may be your last time alive. You claw and scratch at Fia but she doesn't let up, she smiles devilishly at you.

You shut your eyes.

You feel a strange warmth and light engulf you.

You hit the ground hard causing you to scream out.

You cough and roll over to your side, you peel your mask off and open your eyes taking in your surroundings.

'Where the hell am I..?'

You hear Fia yell, saying something along the lines of let me out. You turn over and see her stuck inside a red-like net and other...Spider-people? around her.

"Are you ok?"

You whip your head back around as you hear a husky voice beside you.

It's a man with sharp features and tan skin, hair slightly below his ears, he's..cute.

"What the fuck~" You slur and say with a confused look before falling back and passing out, everything fading to black...

๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑

.

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.

. A/N: AAHHHHHH OMG OMG I finally typed this out I was having a bit of trouble trying to figure out how this was going to work but I figured it out! i hope anyone that reads this enjoys. also, feel free to leave a request! I'll also be making a taglist soon, and pleasse leave feedback for me to improve or change thanks! <3

.

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. masterlist | rules | taglist |

[triscribeaucollection]

@foxstronaut: #YEAH SO I DID IN FACT WANT TO SEE IT#this is so good……this au just keeps getting better……….tysm for the link to this post!!#the wider context of the time travel……the fallout of bens betrayal…..#positively eating this up#also if i can ask- what is the ‘shereshoy’ mentioned in ur tag? :0

Shereshoy is the capstone of my Vod'e An Star Wars series, which is ALL about time travel, but I keep copy-pasting the intro scene into different AUs because it is. Definitely one of my favorite bits of writing to date.

Here's the series summary:

Have you ever seen a time traveler dropped into the middle of someone else's butterfly effect? How about several dozen someones? AKA I nabbed all my fave clone troopers and sprinkled them into a much happier galaxy, with a touch of violence on top. As a treat.

Aaand just for laughs, here's the intro scene in question:

---

The Force screamed in the middle of the night, and Ahsoka lurched awake with one overriding thought: not again.

Both lightsabers immediately flew to her hands as she rolled out of bed - boots and outer robes left behind in her sprint for the door. For the first time since constructing her own hab at Luke’s school, Ahsoka regretted putting herself on a neighboring ridge instead of down in the valley among the students.

Even as she ran, the Force flickered with another youngling’s death.

Beams of red light in the darkness, matched to knots of Dark power, drew her forward at even greater speed. Bounding off rocks and trees, the togruta remained nearly silent with every leap; she instinctively shielded herself with the Force to mask her approach, until the moment she burst out over the heads of three Sith acolytes, and let her own power flare.

Their helmeted heads snapped upwards. In the span of two heartbeats, her white sabers slashed, and those same heads fell to the ground, their bodies following after a brief pause.

Ahsoka landed in a battle-ready crouch, positioned defensively over a boy collapsed on the ground. When no further Sith revealed themselves, she deactivated and tucked away one lightsaber, freed hand reaching for the teenager at her feet. “Jacen?”

“I’m okay,” he rasped, heart pounding hard enough her lekku could feel the vibrations. “What- what’s happening?”

“Another Purge,” Ahsoka said, fighting hard to keep her voice level. “Can you feel Ezra?” After a moment’s pause, his face scrunched with desperate concentration, Jacen nodded. “Then let’s go. I’ll watch your back.”

The boy staggered upright, and led her around to the far side of the school buildings: student sleeping huts, a kitchen and meal hall, storage and laundry and library. Most of them bore scorch marks and other damage, while further up the valley, the actual temple where Luke handled meditation and combat training burned.

Storm clouds rumbled overhead, an echo of the fury roaring in Ahsoka’s mind. Twice, cracks of lightning revealed fallen bodies as she and Jacen ran past.

Another set of Sith attempted an ambush, only to falter when they registered her white lightsabers. Ahsoka didn’t hesitate to leap forward and deal with them swiftly, before any attention could be turned to the padawan beside her. Jacen, thankfully, didn’t attempt to join her, nor did he comment afterward - but his Force-presence shivered and pulled in even tighter on itself.

The next enemies they came across were a squad of stormtroopers, concentrating fire on a solitary figure, who deflected incoming plasma bolts and shot back his own with the same weapon. Ahsoka could sense two more younglings hidden behind Ezra’s billowed cloak, and increased her speed.

One trooper spotted her mid-charge. He and his neighbor turned to shoot at the new target, but their bolts went wild, too far off the mark to even require deflection. Ridiculous, Ahsoka could hear in her mind, as she spun and slashed, No brother would have gotten off Kamino with aim like that; do they even bother training these shinies, or just hand ‘em armor and a blaster and a new set of orders?

Faster than droids, but not nearly as fast or coordinated as clones, which meant Ahsoka carved through the stormtroopers within moments. As the last blaster fell in pieces to the ground, she saw Jacen dash past to crash against his favorite teacher with a desperate hug. Ezra wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, the other still holding his lightsaber. “Ahsoka?”

“Get to my ship,” she ordered, as another peal of thunder rang above their heads, and the first few raindrops began to fall. “Don’t wait for anyone else, just take off and get to safety.”

Expression grim, Ezra nodded, and turned to drop into a crouch. He helped Alora get to her feet, the girl holding Grogu against her chest. “Pypey?”

The teenager shook her head, headscarf gone, face covered in tears. Ezra didn’t waste any more time before hustling her and Jacen off, towards the hidden landing pad where they kept hyper-capable craft. Ahsoka barely waited before hurrying onward again.

She passed more bodies; some students, some stormtroopers, the occasional Sith in black and red armor. The rain began coming down harder, turning the ground slick with mud, dragging visibility down to mere feet and severely impacting how much Ahsoka could sense with her hollow montrals.

But the Force didn’t falter. Every leap took her from one mostly-stable spot to another, following further death knells and surges of power, all the way up to the front steps of the old Jedi temple set into the mountainside. All the way to Luke.

Despite his much smaller stature, he moved like Anakin, and she could feel the intense emotions racing through him. One trooper after another fell, Luke refusing to let any of them put so much as a single foot on the steps into his school, his Academy. More bodies sprawled across the stones behind him; only one still flickered faintly with life.

Ahsoka took over the fight.

She landed ahead and just to one side of Luke, better positioned to defend the one student still gasping for breath. “Go! Take her and go!” Her fellow Jedi hesitated, clearly torn between multiple directions. “She’s dying, Luke, take Jaina and go, NOW!”

His Force-presence flared, then settled, decision made. Ahsoka felt the man lunge, scoop up his wounded student, and bolt into the Temple. She knew he’d follow a secret route out to the far side of the mountain, where an overhang sheltered his old X-Wing. With any luck, Artoo would be waiting, engines already fired up and ready to take off.

Even without luck, Ahsoka would buy them enough time to escape. Raindrops sizzled off her lightsabers as she swept them through the air, evaporating into steam that trailed after her every movement.

And Ahsoka moved.

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

#I am not in fact constantly thinking about how John not knowing Paul before his mother died vs. Paul seeing John have a breakdown over Julia set them up to Be Like That

umm you cannot just leave this in the tag and not elaborate for the ppl?? thx!

the way I just scrolled through my ENTIRE dms with @phoneybeatlemania because I swear I sent this to her once but alas

OKAY so I could probably write multiple essays about this, but I think a pillar of John and Paul's relationship is the fact that John tended to wear his damage on his sleeve whereas Paul has always preferred burying his problems and this particular perfect storm ultimately led to a good portion of those two's specific dysfunction.

Based on that, my pet theory is that them both being hit by the same tragedy, the loss of their mother, likely represented a point of comparison between the two, in terms of their personality and specific reactions to loss, that may have led both of them to faulty conclusions:

John, in immense pain after Julia's death, probably thought of himself as very broken, whereas Paul, to him, appeared to be "getting on with it fine" and thus John might have imagined Paul to be much more put together than him, meaning: a) Paul would be available to do more emotional labour for John and b) Paul would be more likely to leave John because "Who could stay for someone this broken?"

On the other hand, Paul would probably think that if John wasn't capable of keeping his pain at bay, as Paul was, that meant perhaps John inherently needed more support and Paul was not entitled to ask for any.*

The fact that John didn't know Paul at all before Mary died, would've probably exacerbated this even more, because, according to Mike in the Davies bio, Paul was noticeably affected by his mother's death, but without being able to witness a stark before-after effect, it would've been difficult for John to fully assess how deep an impact Mary's death had. Paul, on the other hand, got a first row seat to John's breakdown and would've thus been acutely attuned to just how much Julia's death messed his friend up.

*HUGE ASIDE INCOMING: Bear in mind, however, that the two also seemed to process grief very differently. Just because Paul thinks he's helping, by, for instance dragging John back to Quarrymen rehearsals, encouraging everyone to do Magical Mystery Tour, doesn't mean he in fact is. That's not to say I think Paul was being selfish at all. Consider that on the day of John's murder, Paul went to the studio, or that, according to Mike, it was Mary's death that drove Paul to obsessively practice playing guitar; and now consider that John tended to step away from music in his darkest moments, falling into pits of low productivity as his mental health declined. Paul's efforts were sincere, in my personal opinion, they were just not particularly geared toward John's typical modus operandi. (Though, perhaps also consider that John did return to the Quarrymen and did carry on as a Beatle after losing Stu, so maybe Paul wasn't wrong for assuming his encouragement to "get back to work" would help after Brian died)

[desastreus]

Nine Lines, Nine People Tag

okay here it is lol. it took me a little longer than hoped.

thank you for tagging me, both @yesireadbooks and @guessillcallitart

Coast was never bothered by the fact that she was human.

She knew that, right from when her soul connected to this body, this human form, there was going to be an end. She could feel it in her bones and hear it in the sounds they made, when she stretched and the first sunbeams of that day caressed her skin.

Not only the Sun welcomed her to a new day; a light breeze made her blonde hair dance just a little. Enough to make her close her eyes and she imagined the touch of a future lover making her heart melt, and yet beat faster at the same time.

Her skin prickled, as she called her focus away from the fantasies that liked to beg for her attention more often than she would ever admit.

When Coast opened her eyes, she was surprised to see a person sitting on the edge of the cliffs.

A white dress seemed to hold onto this persons body by invisible threads and moved on the rhythm of an incoming storm. The long, black hair too, did not miss a beat.

tagging without pressure: @dyrewrites @achilleid @thebewingedjewelcat @veetvoojagigthemagnificent @enne-uni @phantomswriting @the-writer-nerd-ro @digital-chance @afusiek