#please this one is really important to me

[bi-writes]

What do we think about price x young!Wife reader who is kept away from the team (for obvious reasons) and when she is on base to bring some important files to his office, world collide

I think it would be really cute if she gets mistaken for a recruit

he's not moving fast enough for you.

you roll your window down even more, sticking your head out, and you slide your sunglasses down your nose so you can meet eyes with the muppet standing guard at the gates.

"repeat that for me?"

"you're not on the list," the man repeats. he narrows his eyes at you. "all guest personnel must be approved before they enter. i don't make the rules, but i do enforce them."

you raise a brow. your manicured finger slides down the steering wheel, tracing the leather of it, and you let out a deep breath before laughing humorlessly.

"okay. i need you to get on your stupid radio and get captain john price on there. then, you're going to tell him who exactly is waiting here, and then after he informs you that you will let me through, i'm going to make sure you spend the next two weeks scrubbing fucking toilets." you sit back in your seat. you don't mean to be rude or mean, you're usually very kind and very considerate, but you are about to blow the roof off of your patience after the day you've had, and you just want to drop john's things off and go.

the guard scoffs, picking up his radio. he rolls his eyes at you before he goes back into his little office. after a few minutes, he comes back out. his eyes are on the floor, and he comes up to your window and gives you back your id. you toss it into your purse, and he clears his throat nervously.

"i-i'm so...i-i'm so sorry, mrs. price, i--"

"save it."

you put your car in drive and step on it. the purr of your pretty german car leaves the guard in the dust, and you park haphazard, taking up two spots, but you just grab your purse and john's papers and turn the car off anyways.

you're mrs. john fucking price. you'll park how you please, and they can get over it.

you're dressed more casually. you're wearing dark green cargo pants, a white t-shirt, sneakers, and one of john's army-green jackets. when you see yourself in the reflection of a window, you realize you kind of dressed appropriately for the setting, without even meaning to.

you open the door to the building john texted you about, and you walk in with your sunglasses still on. there's a lot of desks around, offices, an ugly mess of couches around a tv that a bunch of recruits are playing team fortress 2 at. they're whooping and yelling, but you pay them no mind as you follow a sign towards the office number john gave you.

you bump right into a big chest. you stumble backwards, scoffing, and you pull your sunglasses off as you tip your head back and glare up. there's some big, giant bear-man standing in your way, and he isn't moving.

"excuse me," you say firmly. "do we have a problem?"

the big dude tilts his head to the side, like he's sizing you up (which is stupid, since he's probably bigger than anyone). he's wearing a DIY skull mask, something messily sewed and painted with thick fingers, and you really want this halloween-enthusiast to get the fuck out of your way so you can leave as soon as possible.

"we? i don't got a problem."

his voice is deep. all gravel, very low, and his tone is very condescending. you may be smaller than him, but your teeth are sharper.

you're sure of that.

"but you've got one," he continues, narrowing his eyes. "those nails aren't regulation."

"excuse me?"

"you heard me."

"i did, but you must be fucking out of your mind if you think i answer to you."

"listen 'ere," the man spits. "i'm a fuckin' lieutenant, and y'r gonna talk t'me like i'm one before i have y'r arse--"

"get out of my way!" you snap at him. "as far as i'm concerned, i outrank every single idiot in this entire fucking building. i don't care if you're a sergeant, a lieutenant, i don't care if you're fucking royalty! move, or i'll make you, so help me god."

"simon."

at the sound, the bear turns around, stepping aside. when peek around his arm, you see your husband, arms crossed over his chest casually as he leans against the wall. he's got a relaxed smile on his face, boonie hat tipped back a little.

"well, this isn't how i wanted you two to meet," john chuckles.

"what, you know this meathead?" you scoff, and the lieutenant, simon, snarls like a dog at your response.

"simon, this is my wife."

simon steps back from you as if you'll sting him. he swallows, his face relaxing under the mask, and you glare at him. you don't expect an apology from someone like him, but you guess the way he reverts his eyes from you is the equivalent of it. you don't think a man like him ever feels out of place or threatened.

"love, this is my lieutenant."

"the lieutenant."

"quite right."

you let out a harsh breath through your nose. you don't say anything more to simon, just give him your back as you walk past him towards your husband. you don't say anything more to simon; he's saved your husband's life before, so he can be let off easy.

this time at least.

when you lift your hand to give john some papers, simon zeroes in on the giant rock on your left hand, the several carat diamond that sits there.

fuck.

"next time you need something from home, i'm gonna need the red carpet rolled out for me, understand me, john?" you tell him. john smiles, crow's feet deepening, and you narrow your eyes. "say you understand me, john."

"mhm. i understand."

"i don't mean just making sure my name is on some list, i mean an escort and a voss water. in the glass bottle."

"of course, sweetheart."

he bends to kiss you, and you let him. you put a hand under his jaw, thumbing at his beard, and the hat covers the way he lets his tongue slip out and into your mouth. if you didn't have an audience, the taste of tobacco on his tongue would be enough for you to kneel and suck his cock, but he's busy, and you have a hair appointment to get to.

you pull away slowly, touching his bottom lip.

"you better be home in time for dinner," you say. "seven. don't be late."

"won't be late."

his baby blues are so bright, even in the awful fluorescent light. you kiss him again, cupping the back of his neck, and when you pull away, you put your mouth to his ear.

"your office? got ten minutes?"

"no, sweetheart," he murmurs. "don't have it."

"john..." you grip the sides of his tact vest, pouting. "please? please?"

john sighs, shaking his head. he kisses your forehead before nodding behind you, to his lieutenant that still won't leave.

"walk her out, simon. make sure she leaves alright."

"olright."

simon opens your car door for you, and when you get in, you shove your seatbelt into place, angrily starting the car up again. you're having a bad day, and you're horny now.

"goodbye, lieutenant," you say smartly. "by the way, there's some smartass at the front that i told would have to scrub toilets. i trust that you can carry that out for me."

"'ow long?"

"told him two weeks, but i think a day will do just fine."

"'n why's tha'?"

"well, i'm not mad at him anymore, but i'm still a price. and price's follow through on their threats, lieutenant."

you put your sunglasses on, and the window goes back up. simon watches with rapt attention as you pull out with a rev of the engine, and when he glares at you, you smile, raising your hand to flip him off.

the big diamond on your hand blinds him as you drive off.

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Radio Demon Demands Snuggles 1/2

Summary: It's your first rut month in Hell and you've caught the interest of the Radio Demon. The Radio Demon who's annual problem was a bit different than most others....

Notes: NO SMUT, Alastor x Reader, pre-relationship, OOC Alastor, he gets better, Snuggles, communication, suggestive themes because it's about rut

One day you woke up in Alastor’s room, nestled in his bed. You blinked, delirious and confused, and tried to sit up only to find you were pinned down on the mattress.

By Alastor.

Who wasn’t wearing his coat. Or his shoes. Or his monocle.

Who was clinging onto you, cheek pressed into your stomach, his tail wagging happily out in the open.

You were equal parts terrified, confused, and awe-struck. But first.

“Alastor…?”

“Mmmm yes?” He murmured, sleep making his voice come out in a drawl.

“…What are you doing?”

“Snuggling.” Alastor sighed, nuzzling his face against you as his wagging tail picked up speed. His sharp grin had been swapped out for a dopey looking smile, his fangs poked out under his lip.

“….Why?”

“Snuggle time.”

You blinked, confused “Alastor- I- what’s going on- why are you-“

“Shshshshhshshshhhhh.” He said, putting a hand over your face to stop your mumbling “Snuggles.”

He withdrew his hand, wrapping the arm around you and sighing contently.

“…Are you sick? Were you drugged?”

“Only drug here is an excessive amount of dopamine.” Alastor said, his eyes squinting in his smile. “So soft. So comfy.”

Not adjectives you’d use to describe yourself, but that wasn’t important. Your tried to pry Alastor off you only to stop abruptly when he whined. Like a dog. The sound was high-pitched and heartbreaking to hear and you couldn’t find it in you to continue pushing him away.

He snapped right back to you, his tail wagging again as he pressed his face flushed against you.

With no other choice, you ended up laying there, staring at the sky of Alastor’s strange pocket-dimension and feeling squished underneath him. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling by any means, but the strangeness of Alastor’s behavior was still upsetting you. After a bit, you tried again.

“Alastor can you tell me what’s going on now?” You said. His response was to nuzzle his face into your stomach and grip you harder. His ears pinned back slightly as he muttered his protest at being interrupted. This was wrong. Fingers curling into the sheets, you tried to steady yourself enough to breath evenly. It failed. You let out a quiet, shaky sob.

Alastor’s ears shot straight up.

“Alastor, please- I’m really worried, okay?” You said as you fought to keep your voice steady “This is really, really weird for you- and I-“

“Oh, darling….” Alastor sighed. He pushed himself away and off you, though it seemed it took a good deal of effort. His hands came to cradle either side of your face and he wiped your tears away gently “Always so considerate…”

You lightly gripped his wrists and pulled them off you “Alastor-“

“It’s rut month, my dear.”

You didn’t try hiding your confusion.

“…Ah. No one told you about it yet.” He muttered “Rut month….well. Most demons get it, it’s an annual punishment where a demon’s… physical interests, intensify to a point it’s near impossible to control.”

You stiffen. “Uh-“

Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, fingers carding gently through your hair. “it’s…humiliating. To say so, but even I’m not exempt from this.”

“UUUUUHHHH”

“….You seem distressed.”

“Alastor, I do NOT want to fuck.”

“I am not asking you to.” Alastor said, a slight growl to his voice. He pressed your head against his chest and wrapped his long limbs around you, keeping you still “For some demons, ruts are…different. Odd. Whatever. In my case,” he took a long, deep breath, nose buried in your hair “I simply…erk. Get.” He pressed you head firmer against him, as if trying to stop you from pulling away. His body felt very warm and you wondered if that was due to the rut or embarrassment. “…snuggly.”

“….That’s it?”

“Clingy. Snuggly. Perhaps…. A bit….silly. Overly affectionate. All those things I hate being.”

“….It feels wrong.” You sighed, trying to pull away “From what I’m gathering, you’re not exactly yourself. I don’t want to do this if you-“

He whined again, wrapping around you even tighter.

“Alastor.” You said.

It seemed he purposely ignored you, pressing his face against the back of your neck.

“Alastor.” You said again, putting more authority into your voice.

“Don’t do this to me, darling….” He said quietly. The tremble in his voice made your heart break but you meant what you said.

“You would not be okay with this during a normal time.” You said “This is something you’d regret once you’re coherent and I will NOT do that to you. Understand?”

“Darling-“

“No.” You hissed.

“….hold my hand?”

You furrowed your brows. “…. I don’t think you’d-“

“Arm around mine then. Hands on my ears. Something, dearest. Please.”

“…Sit up.”

He did. You pretended it didn’t bother you as much as it did. Gently you guided him so he was laying on his back with his head on the pillow. Then you settled next to him, allowing your arm to just barely brush his. Alastor tried to move closer and you pushed him away.

“No. this is as far you’d go normally.”

“Damn.” He murmured, ears pinning back as he glared intently at the ceiling.

“I think you’ll thank me, later.” You said with a roll of your eyes, flipping open a book you snagged from his bedside. It was a murder mystery, to no one’s surprise.

“Well right now, I am not.” He huffed.

“Whatever. Try to sleep it off.” You said, trying to ignore how badly you wanted to move closer. For whatever reason, Alastor had sought you out for this. That alone was enough the set your cheeks aflame and give you the warm and fuzzies. But he was being so cute too.

It didn’t matter, though. As innocent as snuggling was, you were sure Alastor wouldn’t do it while coherent, and you weren’t going to take advantage of it.

The month crawled by. Alastor seemed to accept the boundary you drew for him, but whenever you weren’t by his side he would start pacing irritably. If it was particularly bad day, he’d start to whine. The residents of the hotel seemed more worried about you than Alastor, asking where you’ve been and why you’ve been hard to reach.

You didn’t know how much Alastor would want to share so you kept it vague. Saying it wasn’t your situation to share. Charlie let up when you assured her you would ask for help if need be. Angel kept smirking whenever he saw you and offered to ‘help you out for rut month’. You supposed that was the natural conclusion to come to but you never said anything other than waving him off.

Turned out you were one of the lucky few who didn’t get the annual rut. Nifty had exclaimed she didn’t get it either. Though she sounded incredibly disappointed by it. Angel’s was so insignificant to him given his lifestyle, and Husk said he’d usual set something up before hand to ‘fuck it out’ as soon as possible. Charlie and Vaggie didn’t seem to get it, as it seemed to be a sinner thing. Lucifer seemed surprised it was a thing at all.

None of this helped you with Alastor. You sighed, feeling utterly drained as you trotted back to his room. Your muscles tense but no fierce tackle was thrown your way. First beat was confusion. Second was concern. Third (but faint) was disappointment.

“Alastor?” You said, taking off your shoes by the door and padding softly into his room.

“Hello, dear.” The Radio Demon grinned. He was sat at an armchair, legs crossed primly as he flipped through a book. His coat and monocle were back, his shoes on neatly.

“Oh! Is it over now?” You exclaimed, relief flooding over the slight (selfish) disappointment.

“It would seem so!” He hummed. He closed his book and placed It on the table next to him before strolling over to you. That sharp-toothed grin was back, no longer the dopey smile you had gotten used to.

“That’s such a relief.” You said with a smile “I can go back to living!”

“Nah-ah-ha.” Alastor hummed, wagging his finger “AFTER-living, darling.”

“Yeah, yeah, that.” You said with a roll of your eyes. “Well! I’ll grab my things I moved over here and get going.”

“Already taken care of!” Alastor grinned “I didn’t exactly want all those soulless stuffed animals staring at me with their void-filled eyes.”

“Dude.” You huffed “They’re just stuffed animals. Chill.”

“Kindly use words that make sense.”

“Skibidi.”

“……YOU don’t even know what that one means.”

“I know it annoys you.”

“HA.”

You laughed a bit. “Well, thanks for that. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“Kindly do. I have a plethora of matters to attend to.” Alastor said, his grin straining ever-so-slightly “Damned rut season….”

“Well yeah it’s damned, we’re in hell.”

“HA HA.”

“I know, I’m hilarious.” You grinned “Well, see ya.”

“Ta-ta! Oh….One more thing, before you go?”

You stopped, turning to face him “Yeah?”

Alastor ears went back, his eyes darting to the side “…Thank you.”

Your smile softened “Of course.”

[yamumsyadadd]

consequences

part of the Marquita series. Talks of consent, sexual assault, Jenni’s trial.

It had been odd at home for a few weeks. Your mami and Irene were always talking in hushed voices, both with frowns on their faces. Sometimes random people in suits would be in the living room when you got home. 

Olga was busy with the baby, Mami with whatever secret she was dealing with and your mama? You weren’t exactly sure since she had gone radio silent on you. 

Alexia knew it was time to have a conversation with you. After Rio was born, she and Jenni had sat you down to have the sex talk. Answering all the questions you had, emphasising not to look up things on the internet again and letting you know that regardless of your sexuality, they loved you. 

The conversation they needed to had was around consent. None of your guardians thought you’d be having sex, or really doing anything inherently sexual, but with the trial coming up it was a conversation needed. 

You were simply going through the motions. Confused as to why your mama wasn’t talking to you, even why you Tio Rafa wasn’t replying. Your phone was now left at home or in your mamis car more often. You didn’t have social media, something both parents were extremely strict about. 

Sometimes you wanted to fight about with them, but then you remembered when Olga let you use her phone and you were scrolling through her instagram, the amount of hate messages, death threats and overall mean comments she received had shocked you. 

There were moments, at school with you friends, that you felt like you were missing out because they all had instagram and Snapchat, but you reminded yourself about the awful things said to Olga and you didn’t think you’d cope with that. 

The house was eerily quiet when you came home from school. There was no baby noises, or tv. Olga and Rio weren’t in the kitchen, office or in your Mami and Olga’s room. The lounge room was clean, untouched from the cleaner. A apart of you felt forgotten. They had gone out somewhere and forgotten you. 

In a major act of defiance, you found your phone and downloaded instagram. To you, this would get their attention, make them feel bad for forgetting you. The ramifications of it didn’t even float in your mind. 

It took at least half an hour to figure it out, following a few of your friends from school, as well as your Tia, Abuela and a few of the Barcelona Women’s team members but not your mami, mama or Olga. 

You were so wrapped up in discovering how to use the app, you didn’t hear the keys in the front door, or the sounds of both your mami and mama walking down the hallway. It was only when your mama plucked your phone from her hand, eyebrows creased, did you realise they were there. 

“Hey!-“

“Since when did you allow her to have an instagram Alexia?” You felt your body fold into itself. 

“Never. Marquita, you aren’t allowed instagram. You were told this!”

Both your mami and mama were standing in front of you, mami with her arms crossed and her usual frown, your mama with one hand on her hip, the other looking at your phone. 

“Why? Why did you break our trust and make an account. You know how people are, the cruel things-“

“I know! I know okay? I guess I felt left out. All my friends have it, you guys have it. Even Nala had an instagram!”

Your mama sat down in front of you, giving your phone to your mami, “this is a conversation that your mami and I need to have. Without you around.” 

“Why are you here?” It clicked in your brain, your mama was here, in February, she was supposed to be in Mexico, playing a game in a few days time. 

“We need to have an important, honest conversation with you.” Your mami sat down next to you, grabbing your hand. 

“Are you sending me back? I’ll delete the instagram! I’ll do whatever you want but please-“

“Stop, Amor we aren’t sending you back.” Your Mami looked towards your mama, giving her a slight nod. 

“Do you remember how Spain won the World Cup in Australia?” You nodded your head, of course you remembered, “there was a moment on stage that something happened. The head of the RFEF did something to me, something I didn’t like and didn’t ask for. Because of this, he stood down and there were charges filed against him and a few others. They were saying some really horrible things to me. About you, about my career and your mamis career.” You could tell she was getting emotional, maybe even a little embarrassed. 

“There are certain people in this world that think they can get away with things. Usually it’s men, but sometimes it women too. If you don’t want to do something, hug someone or kiss them or whatever, never let them pressure you. It’s important that if you’re not comfortable, you don’t do it. Even if it’s a feeling in your tummy that you don’t understand, listen to it. You call me, mami, Olga, alba, abuela, or anyone on the team. We will all be there.” 

“Okay.” 

“Do you understand what we are saying?” 

“Yeah. Don’t let anyone make me feel uncomfortable.” 

“The same applies to you. If someone tells you to stop, that they are uncomfortable, you stop. Straight away. If someone expresses their discomfort after the fact, you listen, you apologise, you don’t do it again.” 

“Okay I understand.” 

“The reason” your Mamas voice broke as she spoke again, “I’m here is because we are going to trial. Your mami, Irene, Tio Rafa, Codi, they are all going to talk at the trial, I’m going to talk at the trial. That’s part of the reason I’ve- we’ve been so hesitant on you having social media. These people, they have been really really cruel, so have the people online and neither of us want you exposed to that.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” You asked almost shyly. Both nodded at you, “when I was on Olga’s phone, I went through her instagram. I saw the messages she gets.” 

“Yes. It’s not pretty, your mami and I get them too. Alba probably does. All the girls on the team. When you’re a bit older and, um, sexual activity we will revisit this conversation. Do you have any questions about anything?”

You shook your head. At this current time, there were no questions to be asked. It was a lot of information to take in. The thought of kissing a boy or girl, was too much to think about. 

“We are just going to have a chat about your instagram and phone privileges. Do you have homework to get done?” 

It didn’t take long for the house to become loud again. Olga and Rio walked in right as you started your homework. Olga gave you a kiss on the head as you took Rio from her. Leaving the two of you in the lounge room as she went to join your Mami and mama in their room. 

Sometimes you were jealous of Rio. He was just a baby, a baby that had no expectations, no homework, no chores. His only job was to just survive. 

A short time later, your mama, Mami and Olga came out of their room. Your mami taking Rio from you and your mama wrapping her arms tightly around you. 

“We have all come to an agreement. You can keep instagram on a few conditions.” 

“Okay?” 

“1. You make that account private. No one is allowed to follow you expect your friends, family and the girls on the team. If you don’t want them to follow you, you don’t have to accept it, but you cannot accept any strangers. Understand?” 

A small smile crept on your face, “I understand.” 

“Okay, number 2. You have to give the email and password to us. We are allowed to check what you’re looking at, who you’re following and who is messaging you. I know it seems like it’s controlling but it’s for your own safety.”

“Yes! Yes okay!” 

“Wait, don’t get too excited. There’s one more thing: every night, at 8pm, your phone is to be in our bedroom. Just because you are getting instagram, doesn’t mean you’ll be allowed to be on it all night.” 

You nodded quickly, before launching yourself at your mama and then mami and Olga. They were giving you a taste of freedom, they trusted you and you wouldn’t let them down. 

Secretly, you would search your mami and mamas names. Reading the horrible things people said about them made you feel protective over them. They were the best people you knew, the strongest, most loving. It took a lot of self control and conversations with Mapi, but you learned to ignore it. 

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi, I hope this is an okay question to ask. I am s l o w l y exploring and learning what kinds of kinks I like. I’m drawn to taboo kinks and I’m really curious about ageplay, but I’m worried that if I open the door to letting that be hot, I’m going to start seeing actual kids as hot. Obviously that doesn’t mean I would do anything about it, but I’m still not sure I want that in my head. Is there any truth in this fear? Could that happen?

well much in the same way that the majority of pup players aren't trying to hump real labradors on the street, D&D players generally aren't running around pulling swords on random shopkeepers, and my years doing Warriors Cats rp online never made me want to live in the woods pissing in the dirt and eating mice, I suspect that what you're attracted to is the safety of fantasy and play rather than the actual, literal thing. pretty big line between those two things, actually, and most people are pretty clear on the difference between stuff that's made up and harmless and stuff that's really really bad. I use this example often, but I assure you that my abiding love of Batman using his billions of dollars to dick around doing lawless bullshit has not softened my feelings on Elon Musk in the slightest.

I assume that, like most well-adjusted adults, you aren't attracted to children. what you're into is, presumably, adults acting in ways that are characterized as immature, carefree, cutesy, helpless, bratty, etc, and the dynamic of those playacting adults might have with others who take the role of their caregivers. that is... so, so, so far removed from being attracted to an actual human child. I don't know if you've ever actually, like, hung out with kids, but they're pretty different than adults. I mean obviously they're little humans who have their own opinions and ideas and personalities and have a right to autonomy and making their own decisions as much as is safely possible, but they are REALLY different from age appropriate, sexually compatible adults. someone doing ageplay is, like, a million miles from an actual kid.

it's kind of like how when Riverdale was on I'd see gifs of that insane redheaded lesbian and go "yeah, she's hot." like, sure, the character's a teenager, but that actress is an adult woman who's only two years younger than me and we all know that. the idea of fucking an actual teenager is vile. even if I were to see someone and have an initial aesthetic appreciation, the second they open their mouth and start saying 17 year old things the attraction is gone because I've realized that's a child.

(no offense to the teens in the room! you're great and I'm sure your 17 year old stuff is really important to you! but adults should not want to fuck you, is the point.)

so what I'm saying is: seems unlikely!

also, okay. let's assume the absolute worst case scenario happens and you experience a twinge of sexual interest towards a child. that's understandably alarming; that's not an urge most people want to harbor within themselves. that may require some dialing back from ageplay, or a chat with a kink-friendly mental health professional, or seeking out some community and advice from others in your kink scene who may have struggled with something similar. but please, give yourself some credit: you have some shred of impulse control within your body, yes? you're not going to make the leap from having a thought to being an active child predator in one fell swoop. the choice to harm a child, or to seek out pornographic material of child sexual abuse, are still choices that you would have to actually make. and it's making those choices to do harm that actually make child abusers a danger, not just having thoughts. having a thought all by itself doesn't hurt anyone; it's the way you act on it that has the potential to cause harm.

but again, I want to emphasize, sexual behavior is by and large a pretty easy wire not to get crossed with other things. please note the brave billions of people who manage to get through every day without groping their colleagues and random strangers because they understand it's not the appropriate time, place, or partner!

[pronouncingitwang]

[ID: 8 screenshots of text reading

DOCTOR: What happened? AMY: Twelve years. DOCTOR: You hit me with a cricket bat. AMY: Twelve years. DOCTOR: A cricket bat. AMY: Twelve years and four psychiatrists. DOCTOR: Four? AMY: I kept biting them. DOCTOR: Why? AMY: They said you weren't real.

And this was where Amy Pond usually woke up - unable to make sense of this strange, unsettling dream about a mother she didn't have… about a memory she was sure couldn't be real. In a cold sweat, she reached for the glass of water by her bed, gulping at it. And then, as psychiatrist number three had taught her to do, she counted to ten. She had stopped trying to learn her psychiatrists' names. There was no point when they never lasted. And they never lasted because she kept biting them when they told her he wasn't real. Her raggedy man.

Remember that dog that got run over? I can still see the van driver cradling it and saying the same thing over and over, really desperately hoping that it was all going to be OK. Now here's Amy Pond, standing in the freezing ocean, hold- ing the dead body of her imaginary friend, and shouting at the sea to make him better. Yeah. If only my therapists could see me now.

[Living room] (The nice lady psychiatrist is looking at a painting of the moon and stars.) CHRISTINE: It's a lovely painting, Amelia. And what are all these? AMELIA: Stars. SHARON: Oh, Amelia. CHRISTINE: Tell you what, shall we go outside? [Outside the house] CHRISTINE: What do you see, Amelia? AMELIA: The moon. CHRISTINE: And what else? AMELIA: Just the dark. CHRISTINE: But no stars. If there were stars up there, we'd be able to see them, wouldn't we? Amelia, look at me. You know this is all just a story, don't you? You know there's no such thing as stars.

Amy's eyes were filling with tears but she blinked them away quickly. She knew that eventually she would have to tell him, but she didn't know how. Not without him thinking she was crazy, just like her psychiatrists and her aunt and the school counsellor. And she really didn't want to bite Rory when he was being so nice to her, and …

INTERFACE: Unexpected visitor. Welcome. Please seek assistance. (A Handbot is up ahead.) AMY: Hello? Hey. Oi, wait. (The Handbot turns and scans her.) HANDBOT: You are carrying unregistered bacteria. Please let me help you. AMY: No, I'm not from this world. Your medicine'll kill me. HANDBOT: Statement rejected. Do not be alarmed. This is a kindness.

'That's ironic. So, you just keep them locked up here?' the Doctor said. He sipped his tea. 'How moral and ethical is that?' Jackson set down his tea on one of the few empty spaces on his desk. 'They're here for their own good.' 'I've heard that before,' Amy retorted. 'No, I mean it. They're here for treatment.'

AUGUSTUS: At the age of six and announced that the new head teacher wasn't real because she looked like a cartoon. AMY: Shut up, Dad! RORY: Amy? AUGUSTUS: Amelia? AMY: Sorry, but shut up, please. There's someone missing. Someone important. Someone so, so important. RORY: Amy, what's wrong? AMY: Sorry. Sorry, everyone. But when I was a kid, I had an imaginary friend. TABETHA: Oh no, not this again. AMY: The raggedy Doctor. My raggedy Doctor. But he wasn't imaginary, he was real. TABETHA: The psychiatrists we sent her to.

/end ID]

amy pond + involuntary / coercive treatment

( the eleventh hour / the girl who tore through the universe by nikita gill / dead of winter by james goss / the big bang / the girl who tore through the universe by nikita gill / the girl who waited / apollo 23 by justin richards / the big bang )

[cambankromyy]

THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.9): midsummer suit - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

an: theres a little bit of.. not smut but the intention of. so if ur uncomfortable w that.. sorry!!!!! i swear real smut coming soon

part 8- part 9 - part 10

it wasn’t like roni and jj never texted before that night. they had, just not like this. before, it was mostly through sarah, or quick exchanges about something happening in the moment—jj talking shit about a kook party, roni responding with something equally unserious, both of them moving on.

but after that night, something shifted. their texts ramped up, turned into a running conversation that didn’t really have a start or stop. nothing important, just constant. half of it was stupid, the other half even stupider, but neither of them ever left the other on read.

you wake up slow, head heavy, limbs tangled in your sheets. jj’s hoodie still clings to you, carrying that sun-soaked, familiar scent, and for a second, you don’t remember falling asleep in it. then again, you don’t remember much of last night past a certain point—just flashes of laughter, the warmth of bodies pressed close, jj stealing your sunglasses, kiara yelling in your ear.

you rub at your face, squinting against the daylight filtering through your window, before rolling over—and that’s when you see it. your midsummers dress, hung up on your closet door, staring you down like it knows something you don’t.

shit.

midsummers. a reminder that you’ve agreed to show up, fully dressed, fully prepared. a reminder that you’re bringing jj, who, knowing him, probably doesn’t even own a suit.

you groan, flopping onto your back before reaching for your phone on the nightstand. the screen lights up with a couple notifications—one from sarah, one from island lookout (you ignore both), and a random-ass picture from jj at 2 a.m. of what looks like an abandoned shopping cart on the side of the road. you huff out a laugh before pulling up your chat.

if someone told you a month ago that you’d be spending a friday afternoon at a tailor with jj maybank, you would’ve laughed in their face.

but here you are.

jj isn’t the worst shopping partner. he’s actually fun.

he lets you drag him through the store, half-dressed in whatever you throw at him, mostly unbothered until you make him try on a white suit jacket that makes him look like an off-duty magician.

“i look like i’m about to swindle old ladies in a casino,” jj says, staring at his reflection.

“it’s giving coke dealer.”

“that too.”

he disappears at some point and comes back wearing an all-red suit.

“be honest, i look like a sexy little devil, don’t i?”

you don’t even dignify that with a response. just whip out your phone and take a picture. jj is standing on the platform, arms out as some poor old tailor fusses with the fit of his jacket. you’re perched on a nearby couch, arms crossed, head tilted as you watch the disaster unfold.

after many many complaints and suits tried on, you're able to snap a picture of the final suit, sending it to the groupchat.

jj nudges you, jolting your attention away from your phone, his voice low. “dude, i think someone just took a picture of us.”

you glance around, spotting the obvious island lookout informant, a kook girl pretending to browse through ties while clearly not-so-subtly typing on her phone.

you shrug, not even fazed. “oh yeah, that’s normal. happens to me sometimes. not on the cut, but for sure on fig 8 or somewhere around here.”

jj raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “damn, you’re famous.”

you roll your eyes. “oh no, don’t manifest it.”

he laughs, shaking his head. “maybe we’ll trend.”

you groan sarcastiaclly, already imagining the chaos. “please no. dont manifest it.”

you just roll your eyes but smile. there’s no escaping the attention when you’re constantly doing the most.

by the time you both leave, jj is still messing with his collar, looking himself over in the rearview mirror.

“this is dangerous,” he says, admiring the way the suit fits. “if i pull up to midsummers in this, i might not make it out single.”

you snort. “you’re literally my date. be so for real.”

jj grins at you, eyes flicking down for a second before he shrugs. “yeah, yeah. not a bad deal, though.”

you roll your eyes but feel the warmth spread through your chest anyway.

you decide to drive around the island instead of going back to the chateau immediately. windows down, music low. the sun is setting, the conversation easy, bouncing from bullshit to real shit and back again.

it’s only when you pull up to the chateau that the mood shifts.

you put the car into park, the music cutting off along with the engine, but neither of you move. the air inside feels thick, charged, like something’s been hanging between you all day, just waiting to snap.

you stare ahead, hands still gripping the wheel. jj sits back in his seat, stretching out his legs, his fingers drumming lazily against his knee. the silence stretches.

you glance at him.

he smirks, tilting his head. “what?”

that’s all it takes.

a breath of laughter escapes you—nervous, knowing. jj grins wider, like he knows exactly what’s running through your head, because it’s running through his too.

you should probably think it through. maybe hesitate.

you don’t.

you lean in, and jj doesn’t hesitate either. his hand finds your jaw, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulls you deeper into the kiss.

you exhale sharply through your nose, fingers curling around the collar of his shirt. jj is warm, solid, familiar—but the way he kisses you? anything but.

it’s slow at first, like neither of you want to rush it. then jj tilts his head, and suddenly it’s all teeth, heat, and tongue, a little messy, a little desperate.

you hum against his lips, barely processing the way his hand drags down, palm pressing over your bare thigh. he squeezes, and a jolt of something hot and electric shoots up your spine.

jj grins against your mouth like he can tell. like he likes it.

his fingers press in harder, and you bite his bottom lip in retaliation. he groans, his other hand slipping under the hem of your hoodie, fingertips brushing bare skin.

the air in the car turns thick. the tension crackles.

you shift, moving closer, your knee knocking into his as you drag your nails lightly over his neck. jj shudders, and you feel a flicker of satisfaction knowing you’re getting to him just as much. his hand travels down to your thighs, squeezing them as he inches up to where your really want him.

and then—

“roni?”

sarah’s voice.

you barely have time to pull back before sarah’s face appears in the window, all bright-eyed and oblivious.

“oh, perfect!” she chirps. “roni, can you drive me home real quick? and you wanna get dinner after?”

sarah doesn’t notice a thing.

you glance at jj, expecting to see him just as thrown off, but he’s already leaning back, rubbing his jaw, his expression smooth. like nothing happened.

“yeah, yeah,” you say, your voice slightly hoarse. you clear your throat and turn the key in the ignition, gripping the wheel so tight your knuckles turn white.

jj just smirks, tapping his fingers against his knee. “see you later, thornton.”

then he’s out the door, walking toward the chateau like you weren’t just wrapped up in each other, like he didn’t just change everything.

you exhale, gripping the wheel as sarah gets in to the passengers seat.

that was way too close.

an; eek i love itttt also 2 chapters in one day? who am i

tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid @my-name-is-baby @lolasangelz @polli05927 @laniirackssss @rafecameronswifeyy

[coffeeprincessstuff]

A casual date ft. Gojo Satoru

The first time Gojo Satoru walked into the café you work at, you didn’t think much of him.

Sure, he was tall. And ridiculously good-looking. And way too confident for someone ordering the sweetest, most sugar-loaded drink on the menu.

But beyond that? He was just another customer.

Then he kept coming back.

Every few days, like clockwork, he strolled in—always in dark sunglasses, always with that smug grin, always ordering something absurdly sweet. At first, you thought he just really liked the drinks. But then you started noticing things.

Like how he always showed up when your shift started.

Or how he lingered at the counter, trying to make conversation with you when the café was empty.

Or how he never seemed in a rush to leave, even when he had his order in hand.

“You know, for someone who supposedly has the most important “secret” job ever, you have way too much free time,” you remarked one evening, sliding his usual drink across the counter.

Gojo grinned, tapping the side of his cup. “You don’t know that. Maybe I’m incredibly busy, but I make time for the things that matter.”

“Right, and that ‘thing’ just happens to be overpriced matcha lattes full of whipped cream?”

“Exactly,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back a small smile.

Gojo watched you for a beat, then suddenly said, “Hey, you free tonight?”

You paused and turned back to him, narrowing your eyes at him. “Why?”

“Wow, so suspicious! If you’re free, lets go out.” he said.

Your brows furrowed in confusion and said, “Wait. Are you asking me on a date?”

Gojo smirked, not even missing a beat. “I mean, can’t I ask my favorite barista out on a date?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m your only barista here. You literally ignore everyone else who tries to take your order.”

“That’s because they don’t make my drinks with the same love,” he said, smirking.

You gave him a flat look. “Love? Babe, I don’t even know you that well.”

“Tragic. But I can change that. One date. Just humor me.”

You sighed, staring at him for a long moment. “Fine. But only because I’m tired of you hitting on me at my work.”

Gojo beamed, grabbing his drink. “Oh, this is gonna be so fun. I know just the place. Meet me after your shift.”

—————————————————————————

You should’ve known Gojo’s idea of “just the place” wouldn’t be a normal restaurant.

Instead, he took you to a quiet little food stall in an alleyway—a small, cozy spot lit by dim lanterns, with rickety stools and the scent of freshly grilled food filling the air.

Honestly? You kind of loved it.

“Didn’t expect this, huh?” Gojo grinned as he plopped down across from you.

“Not at all. I thought you’d drag me somewhere flashy.”

“Please. That’d be too predictable,” he said, leaning back. “Besides, Yakitori here’s amazing.”

And he wasn’t wrong.

The two of you ordered a ridiculous amount of food, and Gojo—unsurprisingly—had zero shame about eating half of it in record time.

“You eat like you’re in a competition,” you remarked, watching as he popped another skewer into his mouth.

He grinned. “What! can’t handle a guy with a big appetite?”

You smirked. “I can handle a lot of things.”

Gojo paused, then let out a low whistle. “Oh? Now that’s interesting.”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, I don’t think you actually care about dating.”

Gojo blinked, then tilted his head, amusement flickering in his expression. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re good at this. Too good. But I don’t think you’re actually trying.”

For a second—just a second—the teasing glint in his eyes dimmed.

Then, he laughed, shaking his head. “Ouch. And here I thought I was being charming.”

“You are charming,” you admitted, meeting his gaze. “But I don’t think you let people get too close to you.”

Gojo exhaled dramatically, resting his chin on one hand. “And here I thought this was a date, not a therapy session.”

You didn’t say anything. Just waited. And maybe that was what caught him off guard.

Because for the first time all night, his smile wasn’t cocky. It wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t the usual performance he put on for the world.

It was just there. Small, thoughtful. And real.

“You might be more fun than I expected,” he said, eyes glinting with something unreadable.

You chuckled and said, “I’m a complete package if you just removed your sunglasses and looked a little bit closer.”

Gojo smirked and said, “Careful, or I might actually start liking you.”

You smirked. “You say that like you haven’t already.”

Gojo chuckled, “Damn. You are good.”

And for the first time in a while you felt like it has been a nice date night.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Ur Johnny alphabet… I ate it up. Pls tell me you’re planning on dropping the other half or even a nsfw alphabet??? Your characterization was so good!!!

SFW (O-Z) Alphabet -- Johnny Storm 🔥| Marvel Headcanon

Note to anon📨: So glad you enjoyed my A-N for Johnny! I have not done O-Z in a long time so I hope this is up to par 💌 Also I've never done a NSFW one but I'm highly considering doing it for Johnny and other maverl characters 👀 Hope you like this!! ❤️

Link to my Marvel masterlist 💌 A-N for Johnny here

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Considering Johnny is in the spotlight thanks to his superhero status, he might be a little reserved when you first start seeing each other. And beneath his dorky, charming nature, he's quite shy when it comes to expressing his feelings to someone he really liked. With you, you make it easy for him to be open and reveal things he otherwise would keep to himself that even Johnny was surprised at first. He didn't open his can of worms immediately, as he didn't want to spew his guts and have it backfire, but little by little with each date Jonny revealed himself to you. And each time, you fell more and more in love with him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

With the Godly levels of heat in his veins, you'd think Johnny would be a short fuse--and maybe he was when he was younger. But as he got older he learned the importance of being patient and not letting anger get to him. Snapping over something that is an easy fix would not be helpful in the long run. Of course being in a stress-induced career field--like saving the world--there are times where Johnny's patience wears thin. He hides it well which he prides himself on whenever someone else decides to let their fuse blow.

In your relationship, Johnny never leads with anger when a situation arises. He cares about you so much and would hate to unintentionally hurt you because he let his emotions get to him. When something bothers one of you, you communicate and talk it out. He's really the most patient man you've been with.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Please, this man is a walking encyclopedia. He knows you better than you know you. Reed may have the IQ of a genius with a photographic memory, but Johnny does not forget a single thing you tell him. He remembers the embarrassing stories from your high school days. Who was the first celebrity posted on your walls. What movie you can watch over and over again and never tire. The song that reminds you of a late summer day when the sun sets over the horizon.

"Johnny where did you get this?" "That old antique shop off the corner of 57th street. The one we went to last month." "You remembered that? We were only there for maybe ten minutes." "Well I remember you picking this up with that look you always have when you want something. I had to make sure you had it."

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Oh gosh he can't pick one. There's too many--the day you met, your first date, your first kiss. When he said he loved you for the first time--he can go on and on. But if he had to choose a single moment in your relationship that is his favorite it had to be the night of the Baxter Gala. You were 10 minutes late, dressed to the nines, in a satin gown that had his mouth drooling and head spin. You two got a little tipsy, danced until your feet hurt, gossiped about the pretentious executives in attendance from the bar and laughed under the stars when you snuck away to the terrace to get away from the fancy ordeal.

"Baby, have I mentioned how mesmerizing you look tonight?" "Once or twice, but it doesn't hurt to hear it again, pretty boy." "Call me that again, and we're going to have to leave this party early."

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

This man is a superhero, it is in his nature to be protective. Even if there is no present threat Johnny is on high alert. In public gatherings he's always got a close eye on you and sometimes will have a protective hand on your waist when conversing with people. He's also not one to keep his mouth shut if someone were to insult you. Johnny's pulling out all the witty comebacks to mentally and emotionally fuck up the person who dared hurt you. And you're not afraid to throw hands either. There have been times where Johnny is the one having to hold you back from breaking a douchebag's nose for threatening your man. (He finds it super hot).

Now say you happen to be in the crossfire when an adversary of the Fantastic Four makes an appearance. Johnny is exhausting all his energy into getting you the fuck out of there. Practically losing his mind while trying to also remain calm as to not freak you out further. "Okay, you're gonna hold onto me and you're not gonna let go. Okay?" "Okay--wait-wait-wait! Are you going to light up?! Johnny--is it even safe!" "We're about to find out. Just don't let go--close your eyes if you need." "Oh my God."

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Johnny does not do anything half-assed. He's pulling out all the stops to give you the best dates, the best anniversaries, the best gifts. He's making even the simplest tasks special. Like putting the right amount of sugar and cream in your tea/coffee. Or helping you take out the rollers in your hair so you can focus on finishing your makeup. Anything, no matter how little, Johnny is putting 110 and even more percent.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He bites his nail when he's anxious. It's been a bad habit of his since he was a kid and he does his best to stop but sometimes the nerves get so bad he doesn't realize he's doing it. When it gets to that you'll gently take his hand in yours and keep it in your lap, letting your own fingers draw patterns on his palm. He'll also forget to turn off the lights when he's in a hurry to leave in the morning and you have to drag yourself out of bed to do it yourself.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He tries to hide it but you've caught him checking himself out in the mirror. Smoothing out his hair, adjusting his clothes. He knows he looks good and who can blame him really. When you do catch Johnny doing it you'll tease him with a light pat to his ass while saying, "Who are you trying to impress, blondie?" to which he'll catch you by the waist and unleash an attack of kisses along your neck, biting your earlobe while whispering, "the love of my life, that's who." Then of course when you two are headed to events and he stops one last time in the mirror you can't help but yell, "You're hot!! Now let's go before we never make it this thing."

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Johnny would be a mess without you. He can survive a couple days when he's on a mission or you're having to leave the city for work, but he'll be miserable. He's counting down the hours until you're together again and he's so pouty that Sue, Reed, or Ben is having to be like, "You'll see them soon, Johnny. Now we need you to focus because otherwise we're going to have more problems than what we want."

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Not many people know this, but Johnny loves to dance. Whether it's in the comfort of your home, at a gala/benefit, or at a jazz club, Johnny loves to hold you in his arms and sway you to the beat of the music. He'll put on a record, pull you from the couch and you'll spend hours exchanging soft kisses while letting your bodies move together in a gentle rhythm. And when the vibes are a more upbeat, Johnny knows how to get down with the Twist and Jive.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Something Johnny cannot stand is being lied to or having secrets kept from him. Whether it's in a relationship or having to deal with work, Johnny expects 100% trust and will have it be a deal-breaker. He hates when the team tries to keep certain things from him, and he'd hate for his partner to do the same--not matter how small it is. If they can't trust him, how can they expect him to trust them?

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

This man does not know how to keep still when he's asleep. He tosses and turns and will wake up with half the covers off. Sometimes he'll be curled up to your side or literally on top of you. At least some part of his body has to be touching you. Your leg on his, your pinkies interlaced, or his hand just above your ass. Sometimes it can be a little overwhelming--especially in the summertime since he's so damn hot--but at least he doesn't snore.

[skhv67]

rivals to lovers – dae-ho x fem!reader

a/n: its high key one-sided because dae-ho is a sweetheart. fluff, tiniest bit of angst, smut. (PLEASE ONLY +18)

tw: written at 6am 😔🤙 probably ooc

wc: 2.364

SUMMARY: you and dae-ho are academic rivals… of at least that’s what you thought.

• You two have known each other since the first year of university. You couldn’t forget because the very first day of college he corrected you when you were answering your teacher’s question.

• You glared at him with a sour expression, but he was just looking at you with a soft smile and he even nodded at you as if he had done you a favor.

• Despite literally nobody else caring about this interaction, it didn’t leave your mind. In fact, from that moment you’d hyperfocus every time he’d speak up in class.

• Poor thing will probably think you’re looking at him with good intentions, that when you avoided eye contact or went quiet around him was because he made you nervous.

• You actually thought his interventions were pretentious and the little smiles he flashed at you when he ‘helped you out’ were just a subtle way to mock you without looking like a twat.

• When you two were paired during the third year to do the most important project of your sociology class you wanted to end it all there and then.

• The first few times you had to hang out outside college were awkward. You were defensive when he brought up -seemingly- better points than you and you didn’t reply to any of his attempts at being friendly and funny.

• All he got from you were sighs, frowns and a cold shoulder, which confused him because until then he just thought you were just shy.

• He had to ask his older sisters for advice.

• BONK! This woman hates you, you really thought she was into you?

• What a bummer.

• The next times you had to hang out were a bit more awkward, because he was trying even HARDER to make you stop disliking him. Spoiler: it was doing the opposite.

• You weren’t blind to the way every girl in your year swooned over him. He was charming and attractive, he got good grades, he was also helpful and kind… But you couldn’t help but think it was all disingenuous. His help felt like a knife, like he was poking at your insecurities just to feel superior when he lent you a hand.

• The day he was trying to schedule a day for you two to meet up to finish up the project you were especially sensitive and unfortunately one of his jokes to ease the nerves he felt around you didn’t land as he was hoping to.

• ‘’Can you leave me the fuck alone? I’m not interested in being your friend, I can’t wait for this to be over to not have to talk to you anymore!’’

• Ouch.

• After that he only sent you a message with the time and the café you were going to meet to finish the project. No stickers, no emojis nor smiley faces. You wanted to celebrate your triumph but the way your heart started racing nervously confused you.

• The days until the meet up were weird, he wouldn’t attempt to talk to you in class, if he had to interact with you it was brief and distant, and he looked away if your eyes ever connected.

• Your mind was screaming with pride that you were right all along, and all his kindness was just a cover up. This newfound coldness was how he truly was once you called on his bullshit.

• Your heart, however, felt quite the opposite. You were fighting for your life to not text him a polite apology for the embarrassing outburst you had.

• The day came and when you arrive at the café you notice him barely sparing you a glance before looking back down at his laptop.

• The meet up was shorter than usual. And awkward.

• The silence he usually filled with corny jokes felt heavy and you were too embarrassed to admit to yourself that you kind of missed seeing his smile.

• As you finished the conclusion, he thanked you politely for your work and didn’t waste any time getting ready to leave.

• Despite your deepest need to say something, you took all your things and left the café after him.

• Or attempted.

• You let the heaviest sigh seeing the rain pouring in front of your umbrella-less self. You contemplate texting any of your siblings to come get you instead of doing the ten-minute long walk to the bus stop without even a hood to protect yourself.

• Not too long passes until you notice a figure stopping in front of you.

• Now you truly wanted to end it all.

• Dae-ho looks at you with hesitance, not too confident in offering you his umbrella to shield you from the rain.

• ‘’Where’s your car?’’ he subtly looked at your trembling hands, knuckles red from the cold.

• ‘’I’m taking the bus’’ you whispered.

• Yeah, you’re crazy if you think this man is gonna let you walk to the bus stop, let alone wait in the cold until the bus arrives.

• He nodded towards the parking lot silently indicating you to come with him.

• Well, you also don’t want to die from hypothermia, so what other choice do you have.

• Squishing yourself next to him to fit under his umbrella, you felt the warmth of his body and his perfume overwhelm your senses. Was he ever this annoyingly attractive or were you losing your mind?

• If the walk under his umbrella was bad the car ride was even WORSE.

• The silence was so heavy and uncomfortable, he looked at you from the corner of his eye to check if you were in the mood to hear him talk. Much to his surprise he saw your tense form clenching your fists and looking in front of you in an almost robotic way.

• You noticed him looking at you, because naturally he wasn't as subtle has he thought he was.

• "Should I check your pulse? You're scaring me"

• You blinked at him and then let out a little giggle.

• Okay now HE was tripping because why did his heart skip a beat at the sound. He even dared to stare at you (for more than three seconds, a record that week) and he felt his face heat up at the sight of your little smile. Dae-ho never realized that he had never seen your smile before. You had never laughed at anything he's said no matter how hard he had tried and you hadn't granted him the pleasure to see what he confirmed just then to be the most beautiful smile he had ever laid his eyes on.

• The tension he had been keeping in all week finally left his body and he kept making light jokes testing the waters. Once he saw you were at ease he let his personality shine again.

• The ride to your house was painfully short, and it pained you to admit that you could see why all your classmates would die to get a chance with him.

• It was hard to admit that maybe you were wrong and he had always been as sweet as he seemed.

• The following week he's literally glued to you.

• You made the decision of laughing at something he said once and now this man is in love with you, congratulations.

• He doesn't even try to hide his excitement everytime he sees you and as time passes he even teases the idea of going on a date. You're also lucky enough to hear some of his corny pick up lines.

• You two go to a café date (well it wasn't officially a date, but it was in his mind).

• There he tells you about his family. Him growing up with four older sisters made everything make sense to you and your heart broke when he said was disappointed that he decided being a nurse instead of studying law or medicine.

• You also tell him about you aspirations and your passion for the field and he's looking at you enthralled hanging on every word that came out of your lips.

• Talking about that, at some point while you're complaining about thing #130 today he finds himself lost in you lips. He traces the shape with his eyes and imagines parting them with his tongue He wonders about the taste of your lip balm and if they're as soft as they look right now.

• You'd think he'd be a bit more confident being caught doing this considering he was being quite obvious about it but the second he sees you looking at him he panics like crazy.

• You laugh it off and as the gentleman he is he gets you home safe and sound.

• That summer he decides he's going to officially make a move.

• (he doesn't)

• Summer made you inseparable and you couldn't understand how many years you've wasted hating him undeservingly.

• This time you were both hanging out in your room. You two had made a habit out of watching a movie once a week and would play rock, papers, scissor to see who would host and pay for the take out.

• Tonight you had lost and unfortunately for you he got to choose the film as well.

• The only good part of this was seeing him being an absolute nerd about it when you tried to argue about the plot holes of the movie.

• He was passionately exposing his points for you and you couldn't hear a single thing he was saying, too busy getting slowly closer to him.

• He had been so busy trying to prove his point that he doesn't notice your pretty eyes right in front of him and your noses practically brushing.

• It wasn't until he felt your hot breath against your lips that he came back down to reality. He froze in his seat and looked at you wide eyed.

• For a moment you think you might've even misunderstood every single interaction you two have had until now so you were about to turn away until he finally decided to react and grabbed your arm.

• The grip was firm but gentle, letting you know that you weren't getting away from him anytime soon. He looked at you doe eyed and used his free hand to bring you closer to him making you straddle him.

• "Can you fucking kiss me already?"

• He wastes no time connecting your lips and he lets out a breath he had been holding for what felt like ages.

• He finally got to slide his tongue against your bottom lip, savoring a slight taste of cherry. He smiled into the kiss, finally confirming his suspicions.

• A whine left his lips when you yanked his hair back roughly to get better access to his neck, to which he did not add any resistance.

• It only takes a few wet kisses down the column of his throat and a breathy "pretty boy" for him to get hard underneath you.

• Your jaw clenches when he starts rocking your hips back and forth over his hard on to relieve himself while he looked at you almost sorry to be manhandling you like that.

• As much as you enjoy him taking the initiative, you quickly take over and start grinding the bulge on his pants, feeling yourself pulsing against your panties at the friction.

• His needy eyes look at the scene before him taking in all the noises that came out of your mouth.

• A shaky breath leaves his soft lips when you sink your hand into his pants to palm him over his boxers.

• "Please"

• A smug smile creeps into your face when he finally gave you the sign you've been waiting for.

• Hurriedly you both take off each other's clothes while still placing messy kisses wherever you could.

• He looked down at your pussy with a nasty look of hunger you didn't expect of him and you knew then that if you hadn't stopped him there he would've placed you in your desk and devoured you whole in a second.

• "Another time, please, I need you" you beg in his ear before gently biting his earlobe.

• He nods profusely as he started stroking his flushed length in his hand to spread the slick of his tip along his dick.

• He holds you over him and drops you slowly on his length, chest heaving and long locks sticking to his face, framing it so perfectly.

• You clench around him as you reach the base and he mumbles a soft "fuck" under his breath. You press a needy kiss against his lips and nibble at his bottom lip.

• He starts sinking you down his dick with an indescribable urge, and you quickly start riding him as fast as your stamina let you.

• Even if you get tired don't worry because this man is already holding your hips and meeting you halfway.

• Your moans start turning into cries and his pace speeds up as soon as he realizes you're close.

• "C'mon, come for me baby" he grunted against your lips.

• With that you start trembling against his thighs and let go. You keep riding him through your climax and he soon enough comes too holding you impossibly closer to him.

• He held you in his hands while you came down from your high and placed you gently in your bed to proceed cleaning you up.

• Your face when you see both of you through the mirror (and the disgusted little "sticky" you mumbled at the sight of your glistening skin) convinced him to take you both to take a bath instead.

• "Hope this doesn't make you think I like you or something though" you looked at him through your lashes with a smirk on your reddened lips.

• "Sure" he laughed it off.

[thinkingabout-girls]

ok bitches of tumblr i need your help. does anyone know that one character where it’s like. he’s got aggressively red super curly hair and it sticks straight up and he’s like a skinny fucking twink with a really annoying voice and big glasses and he’s like a mad scientist type guy. like lab coat and gloves probably holding some colorful beaker. i think he’s from a movie with that like weird 3D animation they keep making stuff in yk the one. i can’t for the life of me remember his name or what he’s from but i need a picture of him it’s important. please

[the-dead-gay-oscars]

Welcome to the Dead Gay Oscars!

(Also known as the Marauscars)

This is the public blog for the FIRST ANNUAL MARAUDERS' OSCARS, where we award awards in 23 categories for Special Marauders Merit or Great Contribution to the Fandom. Please send an ask if you'd like to nominate anybody for one of the categories-- the only prerequisite to this is that you've read the whole thing or whatever the equivalent is for that piece of media.

We will vote for the winner either on specific days or all on March 2-- yet to be determined. All are welcome to vote!

Categories 2024:

Best Hurt/Comfort Fanfiction

Best Angst Fanfiction

Best Fluff Fanfiction

Best Classic-Trope Fanfiction

Best Alternate Universe

Best Fandom Crossover

Best Marauders Cosplay

Best Skittles Cosplay

Best Valkyries Cosplay

Best Side Character Cosplay

Best New Writer

Best OC

Best Fansong

Best Series

Best Fanfiction Overall

Best Fanart

Best Supportive Marauders Moot

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Best Shortform Fanfiction Overall

Best Playlist

Best Podfic

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Best Jily Fanfiction

Best Side Pairing Fanfiction

Best Rarepair Fanfiction

Best Non-Romantic Fanfiction

Please ask for details on each category, updates will be provided on a constant basis on the nominations and extra info for each category will be posted at similar time intervals as well. We hope that this will be a really fun way to show our appreciation to the amazing fans who give us so much, and we hope you enjoy!

IMPORTANT NOTE: We will not be accepting any media which is PWP (Porn Without Plot.) We will be putting Explicit labels on content which may include sexual content. Explore at your own risk and Minors please dni with Explicit content.

Started: Sunday, February 9, 2025

(Interested in being on the Marauscars Board, to run this program and nominate extras if there aren't enough? DM me at @janeiscompletelyfine for more information, we'd LOVE to have anybody!)

We wouldn't be here without YOU ALL, so please do not hesitate to interact if you have suggestions to make this the best it can be!

❤️The Committee

(Credit for pictures goes to: guine_evere on Instagram, alley_rqsee, almondmilkfrog, and unknown on Pinterest.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Yet, you cannot. Because you can’t find the damn book anywhere. You are sure the compilation of histories of Old Valyria Daemon had given you has to be in your rooms.

Honestly. If I lost my book, my favorite book,my favorite book gifted to me by my father, my favorite book gifted to me by my father because he said I was the only child of his who could inherit it, I would fucking crash out and be inconsolable for life

You feel torn. Cregan and you are getting along now, but you still hesitate going to him with your troubles. Not only you had leftover guilt even though you have both chosen to move on from your rivalry, you also prided yourself on being independent. 

Your pride will be the death of you. Unfortunately I feel you. I'm going to write a song about this

Asking him or anyone for help always makes you feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want others to perceive you as weak. 

Still. What if he thinks less of you for being careless with your things? Or if he thinks you are being overly sentimental to get this worked up over a book? 

Girl

Worse, what if he thinks you are accusing him of stealing? 

GIRL STOP YOURE JUMPING INTO LAVA FOR NO FUCKING REASON?????

[...] to love is to be humbled, it seems. 

Stealing this. it's so fucking stupid of her what the fuck

“You always may, wife.”

THE WAY I SCREAMMMMMMMED

“I enjoy how my colors look on you.” Cregan rumbles, a pleased smile forming on his face. Today, you are wearing one of the warmest dresses you own, in a pale gray. It’s made of velvet, and you enjoy how it feels over your skin. You had commissioned it after you arrived at Winterfell, using the generous pocket money that Cregan allowed you. 

“You.” And it’s said with such disarming honesty, you do not know what to say.

NRJDSJSNN RIZZLER ALERT

Secretly, it pleases you that he remembers what you had been reading last week.

Not be. Me at cregan after this

This is my cats kitten btw.

“I cannot find it.” You whine, losing your battle with the tears. “My book. It’s really important that I find it.” 

I would simply cry too. Bestie....

“Shh… I know. I have been unkind to you.” [...] “I took your book.” 

🧍‍♀️ he fucking what? I don't... I don't know how I feel... I'm upset ????

While grief and self-doubt do not chase him as much as they chase you, he is still a widower with a wife who despised him at first. 

Let's be broken together

The nerve of those Hightowers knew no bounds. What was next? Demanding a Sept be built in Wintertown for those false gods of theirs? 

HAHAHHAAHAHHHAHA FALSE GODS IS SO FUNNY GOES HARD

And if that wasn’t enough to make his day terrible, during the afternoon Cregan had received an outraged Sara. Apparently, for some unknown reason, she had received an offer to become Lady Cerwin And for another unknown reason, it was the most terrible fate. Ever. 

SKKSJSNSJ SARA GIVE IN TO YOUR PLOT STOP STRESSING UR BROTHER

“I think I will place my princess here. And a dragon here.” You explain, as if you are building some great castle. Rickon stares, transfixed by you. Cregan understands the feeling all too well. He remembers the weight of you in his lap, the warmth of your skin against him, your smell. He has been unable to get the memory out of his mind in days. 

HALA MY STARKS ARE LOVING EACH OTHER I

You feel nerves creep up on you. Cregan never summons you. When he wants your company, he simply appears near you or waits for a meal to invite you to spend time with him. 

HE SIMPLY APPEARSSSSS JWKKSKSKSKA I WANT HIM I WANT HIMMMM DKKDKDMS

When you step inside, it is as if you are stepping inside your storybook. The walls are covered with tapestries depicting some of the prettier illustrations, priestesses wearing amethysts, dragons of shining ivory, lovers holding hands. 

BESTIEEEEEE HE WAHHHHAT

“You did this… for me?” Your hands tremble as you set the table alight. All the known world, on display for you. In a war table. It is only then that it registers.  

.... I know that she's emotional and in disbelief but

???? NO BESTIE HE DID IT FOR HIS UNCLE WOULD YOU FUCKING BELIEVE???? GIGGGGILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

You have been blind, you realize, as you look at your book come to life in this room. The man who had given it to you had shown you that one could form a family with a widow and cherish their sons as if they were your own.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 DAEMON BEING A GOOD DAD BLUEPRINT MAKES ME SO SOFT DAEMON MY SHAYLAAAAAAA

“Dear Jacaerys, I want you to know that I am completely, perfectly, incandescently happy…”

MR DARCYYYYYY?????

IM GLAD THAT SHES FINALLY SPOKEN TO JACEEEE

CRISTIII THIS WAS INCREDIBLE ARE YOU KIDDING MEEE????? IM SO HAPPY SO PROUD OF YOU FOR FINISHING YOUR SERIES. ME SOON TORMENTED SPIRIT PLEASE END FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD SHE STILL GOING

I lovveeee cregan so much I love the surprise so much I LOVE HOW YOU ENDED IT. IM SO SATISFIED. MY PETTY ASS ALL FIGHTS TO HAVE AN ANGST ENDING WHEN THERES ANGST BUT YOU SWAYED ME AND I WANT THEM ONLY TO HAVE FLUFF FOREVER AND EVER AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BECAUSE WHO ELSE COULD DO THAT BUT YOU. AM I SO VERY GREEDY TO ASK MORE? ANYWAY TAG ME NEXT FIC OK OK I LOVE YOU BYE AHHHH

Summer (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

A/N: I can finally wrap up my romcom! Big romantic gesture ahead. Check the masterlist of this series here, if you are new. And to my lovely, lovely readers, thank you for staying wityh me during this madness.

Warnings: My anxious introverted reader being anxious (Shocker) Cregan has self-doubts. Mature language.

YOU ARE HAVING a terrible day. It surprises you because that doesn’t happen as often any longer. Today, you would rather not talk to anyone, much less Cregan, whose hovering would only serve to make you more anxious. Today, you want to crawl under the covers with your comfort book and pretend to be dead. 

Yet, you cannot. Because you can’t find the damn book anywhere. You are sure the compilation of histories of Old Valyria Daemon had given you has to be in your rooms.

You have pulled open all your desk’s drawers, checked the bedside table twice, checked the bed, even beneath it. Not even your chest with linens was spared. It’s nowhere. 

With little choices left, you have begun searching the nursery too, but haven’t quite mastered the courage to search Cregan’s solar. You remember taking the book alongside you to read as you kept him company sometimes, but do not recall leaving it there. 

You feel torn. Cregan and you are getting along now, but you still hesitate going to him with your troubles. Not only you had leftover guilt even though you have both chosen to move on from your rivalry, you also prided yourself on being independent. 

Asking him or anyone for help always makes you feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want others to perceive you as weak. 

Stop. You are being silly, you tell yourself. It’s not like you are about to ask him to solve your life, you only will inquire if he has seen your book. 

Still. What if he thinks less of you for being careless with your things? Or if he thinks you are being overly sentimental to get this worked up over a book? 

Worse, what if he thinks you are accusing him of stealing? 

You let out a groan. You are overthinking. Your bad days often include a lot of anxiety, and today it is a bad day. A terrible one, that will be worse if you don’t find your beloved book. Determined, you march to Cregan’s solar and knock on his door. 

“Aye?” He calls out, northern accent on full display, and you can’t help that your knees get a little weak.

“Cregan? May I come in?” Suddenly, your bravery and determination have deserted you. Your voice comes out squeaky as a mouse. By the Fourteen Flames, to love is to be humbled, it seems. 

“You always may, wife.” You wince at being addressed as such. You suppose it’s a good thing he isn’t calling you by your full title any longer. 

Pushing open the door, you step inside. Cregan is seated on his desk, a frown on his face. He is squinting at some maps, in the way he sometimes does. His frown softens when he sees you, standing on the door. 

“I enjoy how my colors look on you.” Cregan rumbles, a pleased smile forming on his face. Today, you are wearing one of the warmest dresses you own, in a pale gray. It’s made of velvet, and you enjoy how it feels over your skin. You had commissioned it after you arrived at Winterfell, using the generous pocket money that Cregan allowed you. 

You had to give it to the man. No matter how annoying you had been at first, he had never been tight-fisted with your allowance. 

“Thank you.” You feel your cheeks heating up, and fight the urge to fan your face. What you don’t manage to fight is the urge to preen under his gaze. 

Cregan chuckles. You narrow your eyes at him. Is he mocking you? He lifts his hands in surrender, attuned as he is to your moods. 

“Apologies. It’s cute, that’s all.” 

“The dress?” 

“You.” And it’s said with such disarming honesty, you do not know what to say. You search his face, yet his expression is so open, so fond, no hint of mockery can be found. It’s…  Cregan must be thinking of her, for sure. That expression doesn’t mean anything. “What were you here for?”

You clear your throat. 

“Um. I was… I lost my book.” 

“What book?” Cregan asks, shifting his maps aside. He is clearing his desk, you realize. “The one about the conquest?” 

“No, not that one.” Your voice turns shyer still. Secretly, it pleases you that he remembers what you had been reading last week. “It has a brown leather cover and the title is in gold.” 

“The one in High Valyrian?” And his tone is casual. Far too casual. You begin to worry that your book might have met its end. You look him in the eyes, but find little there. Cregan has an impeccable blank face. He gives nothing away. “Check the selves. Maybe it is there.” 

You turn around and begin doing so. But the more titles you check, the more nervous you become. Cregan is an organized man, his books are carefully separated by subject. The servants know to keep to his order, when he rarely leaves them lying around. 

Your book would stand out. You know it. A tight knot of anxiety begins to settle on your stomach. As you reach the lower shelves, you feel tears gathering in your lash line. You cannot believe you are about to cry over a book. 

Cregan will never love you. He will go right back into thinking you are some soft southron, with no spine. No one cries over books. He will think you are ridiculous. 

Despite your back being to him, he seems to sense something is wrong.

“Love? Is everything alright?” 

“I cannot find it.” You whine, losing your battle with the tears. “My book. It’s really important that I find it.” 

You hear him get up, and walk closer to you. He hugs you from behind, holding you to him. 

“Shh… I know. I have been unkind to you.” You are confused about his words, but not enough that you reject the comfort of his embrace. Cregan is warm against your back, and smells faintly of parchment and leather. There is something herbal clinging to his skin, too. His smell and his size make you feel safe. He is tall enough that his form covers yours completely.“I took your book.” 

You flinch. Your hackles begin to rise. Your sadness leaves, clouded by absolute wrath.  

“What?” 

“I wanted to gift you something. It’s being copied by the Maester as we speak. I wanted it to be a surprise, I know how much you love it.” He nuzzles your neck, and it pacifies you slightly. The prospect of a gift entices you, especially if it is a copy of your favorite book. Perhaps Cregan will have it nicely bound.  “I regret it now. Knowing how much you love it, I should have known it would upset you.”

“I wanted to read it today.” You complain, still sad. It has been an awful day for you. “I do not feel so well.” 

“Of course, sweetling.” Cregan drops a kiss to your crown. “I’ll have it delivered to you. Would you mind lending it to me tomorrow? You can recall it anytime during the day if you need it, like now.” 

“Alright.” You whisper, softly. Cregan gathers you in his arms again, and moves the two of you to the loveseat. There, he settles you in his lap. He takes of his cloak and drapes it over you. This way, you are fully surrounded by his warmth and smell.

He calls a servant. True to his word, the book is back in your hands in less than half an hour. You spend the rest of the afternoon reading in his lap. 

Suddenly, your bad day doesn’t seem so bad. 

WHEN HE FEELS like an inconsiderate brute, Cregan tries to think happier thoughts. While grief and self-doubt do not chase him as much as they chase you, he is still a widower with a wife who despised him at first. 

Often, gazing upon Rickon or you is enough to help him feel more settled. More at peace with himself. His son is well adapted enough, he reasons, as he sees him run around the courtyard. You do not despise him, he thinks, as you curl by his side. 

Today, neither is working. Rickon and you are together, a picture that normally would serve to pull him out from his brooding. Of course, since Rickon is on the floor wailing, it isn’t quite working. 

Cregan has a headache. The pain is spreading from his jaw, towards his cheekbones, and from there turning into sharp icicles that feel like they are being stabbed in his skull. 

The day has been long. He had ridden out at dawn to deal with some wildings near Wintertown, and then had to answer his correspondence. The dammed Greens would not stop pestering him to switch sides and hand you over, alternating between threats and flattery. 

As if the Starks were some miserable turncloaks who betrayed their oaths. As if Cregan would just hand over his wife to some usurping cunts. 

The nerve of those Hightowers knew no bounds. What was next? Demanding a Sept be built in Wintertown for those false gods of theirs? 

And if that wasn’t enough to make his day terrible, during the afternoon Cregan had received an outraged Sara. Apparently, for some unknown reason, she had received an offer to become Lady Cerwin And for another unknown reason, it was the most terrible fate. Ever. 

Rickon keeps screaming. He has been that way for a while. Cregan had been alone with him, watching him play on the rug with his blocks, when he had started crying and wouldn’t stop. 

Cregan had tried picking him up, rocking him, walking him back and forth, but nothing helped. One of the servants must have heard and alerted you because you had appeared looking disgruntled.

You had been in the middle of your quiet time, as Cregan enjoyed calling it. Awkward Princesses who hated socializing needed time to recover from hearing petitions during the day. He had realized so when he started teaching you to pass judgement. 

As the time for Cregan to march south to defend your mother’s claim became more imminent, he was giving you more and more responsibilities in Winterfell. That way, you would be prepared to hold the North when he left. Prepared to protect his Kingdom and his son. 

“Tower! Tower!” Rickon wails, as you pick him. Your face is as tired a Cregan feels. His head is heavy. He cannot stand Rickon screaming any longer. By the gods, Cregan is a terrible father. He cannot even calm his son when he needs him. After his many attempts to calm him down were unsuccessful, he had just set him down. 

“What’s the matter, sweet boy?” You ask, holding Rickon close to your heart. Rickon continues to cry. You meet Cregan’s eyes over his son’s head. 

Cregan shrugs. He is unsure of what triggered the tantrum. 

“Shh, all is well. I get overwhelmed too, sometimes.” You say, and Cregan gets the feeling you are talking to him and not to Rickon. “But we can’t rebuild your tower if you are getting all wiggly.”  

This is about the building blocks, Cregan realizes. He feels like a terrible father. A failure. 

Bennard’s words come to mind once more. How can you govern the North if you can’t govern yourself? You failed.

Your swordsmanship is poor, and you still are a pup crying for your parents. You cannot rule. 

He had heard a variation of those words for years, every time he had tried to push his claim. And look, Cregan knows he is not a poor swordsman, and he has tried his best to rule. Men don’t cry, but he does it occasionally. Rarely. His tears never dry out, no matter how old he grows, but it is the only thing of Bennard’s words that came true. That isn’t so bad, is it? 

You have settled on the floor, Rickon on your lap. He still cries, but he has stopped shrieking. You have started building a tower on your own. 

“I think I will place my princess here. And a dragon here.” You explain, as if you are building some great castle. Rickon stares, transfixed by you. Cregan understands the feeling all too well. He remembers the weight of you in his lap, the warmth of your skin against him, your smell. He has been unable to get the memory out of his mind in days. 

It would be pleasant, a session of cuddling with his wife, were it not for the circumstances that lead up to it. All Cregan’s fault. 

“A shame you want to keep crying and won’t help. I suppose I shall have to ask your father to play with me.” Your eyes are coy. You give Cregan a glance, and his lips form a smile despite himself. Of course you would try bribery. 

Of course, it works. Rickon picks up the first block, still sniffling. 

“No! Father isn't a Princess. You are!” 

“You are right, Rickon.” You agree, as if it were the most natural thing. “Silly me. He is a wolf. We should build him a Wolfswood.” 

And so, Rickon forgets his tantrum, settled by your gentle touch and encouraging words. And Cregan’s heart soars. 

“MILADY, LORD STARK wishes for your company.” One of the serving girls says, eyes downcasted. You pause in your perusal of the granary, making a quick note on your ledger. As the Lady of Winterfell, it falls to you to ensure the castle has supplies enough for winter, or so Cregan says. You find the Northern’s obsession with the season a bit much, but considering little grows here, you too would feel better knowing you have enough grain if something happens. 

“Right now?” Considering he had been the one to send you on this errand, it confuses you a little. He must have known taking stock of the granary would take you all day. 

“As soon as you can come. It’s not urgent, but he wishes to see you soon.” 

You feel nerves creep up on you. Cregan never summons you. When he wants your company, he simply appears near you or waits for a meal to invite you to spend time with him. 

You can’t help it. War and grief had frayed your nerves. These days, you feel like everything could be a sign of bad news. 

It’s not urgent, you repeat to yourself. It’s not urgent, it’s not urgent, you chant in your head, but your steps towards the inside of Winterfell are hurried. 

The castle is unusually quiet. The maid guides you to one of the unused wings of the castle, one near Cregan’s rooms. You have never asked, but you know these were the rooms his uncle used to inhabit when trying to usurp him. The man had never dared taking the lord’s rooms from Cregan, lingering near instead, a feeling you understand too well. 

Your husband is a formidable man. You wouldn’t want to cross him, either. 

The serving girl hesitates when the two of you reach a big oaken door. 

“What is it?” You ask her, with a frown. “Why do you linger?”

She doesn’t answer. She simply shoots you a shy smile. Annoyed at her shyness, you push the door open yourself. Your breath catches. 

When you step inside, it is as if you are stepping inside your storybook. The walls are covered with tapestries depicting some of the prettier illustrations, priestesses wearing amethysts, dragons of shining ivory, lovers holding hands. 

The room is decorated in understated creams and golds, the furniture made of the finest woods. Despite the themes of the decoration, it is clearly meant to be a Lady’s solar, even if not attached to your rooms. 

There is a soft, woven carpet that cushions your every step. It is made of pure white fur, to combine tastefully with the rest of the decoration. You can already tell it will feel like heaven on your bare feet, even through your boots. It must have cost a fortune. 

Near two, giant windows, a low table sits. It holds a vase very familiar to you, shaped in the form of a dragon. It is filled with winter roses, though you had seen it before in Dragonstone, full of your mother’s favorite flowers. 

There is a fireplace, as it is customary in almost all the rooms in Winterfell. On its mantle, small toys and mementos from your childhood sit. Near the fireplace, a small sitting area awaits, with comfortable looking armchairs and loveseats, and a low table in which a tea set, painted with Valyrian motives, rests. 

There is a desk in a corner, much bigger than yours, and a small bookshelf, that resembles the layout Cregan has in his own solar. It has sparse books, but all of them are in High Valyrian. Your favorite book has a place of honor, right in the middle of the highest shelf. 

Yet, the true star of the room lies on the back of it. There is a huge round table, like the one from your stories, made of sturdy wood, that resembles the one from the war room from Dragonstone. Not only are the Seven Kingdoms featured, but also Essos, Sothoryos, the Summer Islands and even Great Moraq. Cregan is in the middle of lighting the table, struggling with how one is supposed to do it. 

“How..?” You babble, astonished. To assemble this… You understand now why he had needed your book so many times. The time and care put into building this room, so delightfully whimsical yet honoring your culture at the same time… Your eyes prickle with tears. 

“We can send it back.” Cregan says, alarmed by your tears. “If you…” 

“No!” You say, with an energy that surprises you. You take the candles from his hands and begin lighting the table the proper way. “This is… My home. And my book.”

Cregan’s face is uncharacteristically unsure.

"I hoped it would remind you of where you came from. Of whom you are. A Princess of Dragonstone. My Princess.” 

“You did this… for me?” Your hands tremble as you set the table alight. All the known world, on display for you. In a war table. It is only then that it registers.  

Cregan is willing to go to war for you. Kill in your name. Lay the whole world at your feet.  You have to grip the back of one of the chairs as to not fall down, knees weak. 

“I know you are far from home. And I haven’t… We haven’t always been on the best terms, but you never shied away from your duties. I wanted to give you something that was about you.” 

“I never thought you saw me.” You whisper. “I… I owe you an apology. For everything. For insulting you, when I arrived, for speaking of Lady Arra, for… For not seeing you either, at first.” 

You have been blind, you realize, as you look at your book come to life in this room. The man who had given it to you had shown you that one could form a family with a widow and cherish their sons as if they were your own.

Daemon wasn't a kind man, but he was loyal to family. You were far kinder. If he could do it, and be happy, so could you.

“There is no need to apologize to me.” Cregan gathers you in his arms, and presses a kiss to your lips. His own are chapped from the cold, yet the only thing you feel is his warmth. And for two people as different as winter and summer, you find that your bodies do understand each other. 

It takes Cregan but a week to convince you after that. The first letter you write in your new desk begins as it follows: 

“Dear Jacaerys, I want you to know that I am completely, perfectly, incandescently happy…”

[lvrsturniolo]

Smokes n’ sweethearts ✧C.S

pairings: dealer!Chris x sweetheart!reader

synopsis; since it’s Valentine’s Day, Chris and sweetheart are watching a movie while he rolls up, but because of the special occasion, and how good she looks, hes gotta make her feel so good.

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), pet names: mama, ma, sweetheart, sweet thing, etc., soft!dom Chris.

Today is Valentine’s Day. To you, it’s a happy day to celebrate love, but to Chris, it’s just like every other. He knew it was important to you though, so he decided to ask if you’d enjoy spending your evening with him.

You're currently sprawled out on his bed, the soft glow of the TV screen casting flickering lights against the walls. Some random movie is playing, but neither of you are really watching it. You're in your usual spot-lying against the pillows, legs tucked up comfortably, while Chris sits cross-legged beside you, breaking down weed on a tray.

The sharp scent fills the air as he rolls the blunt with practiced ease, fingers moving effortlessly. You watch him, half-distracted, your attention flickering between him and the screen. He's got that lazy, hooded look in his eyes, the one that always makes your stomach flip, even when you try ignoring it.

You shouldn't feel like this. It's not what this is.

"Y'good?" he asks without looking up, licking the edge of the paper before sealing it.

"Mhm." You shift, pulling the blanket higher. "Jus tired."

Chris hums, flicking his lighter open with a metallic clink before pausing. He stares at the blunt between his fingers, then at you, and something in his expression shifts-subtle, but you notice.

Instead of lighting it, he sets it down on the tray and leans back on one arm, eyes dragging over you like he's seeing you for the first time tonight.

"What?" You raise an eyebrow.

He doesn't answer right away.

Just tilts his head slightly, his gaze dipping lower, lingering at the curve of your waist under his hoodie-the one you stole from him months ago and never gave back.

"Y'ever think about how we ended up here?" he asks, voice quiet but heavy.

You blink. "Here... as in your bed?"

Chris huffs a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Nah. I mean, yeah, but also... this." He gestures vaguely between the two of you. "Us."

Your chest tightens, but you keep your expression neutral.

You've had this thought a million times, but you never say it out loud. Neither does he.

That's the rule, unspoken but solid-this is just physical. It's just convenience. It's just... not that deep.

Right?

"You high already?" you joke, trying to lighten the sudden tension.

Chris doesn't laugh. Instead, he shifts closer, warm fingers grazing your thigh. "Not yet," he murmurs. "But I think I wanna do somethin' else first."

Your breath catches as he leans in, his hand sliding higher. His touch is slow, deliberate-like he's savoring it, like this isn't just another night of convenience, but something different, something more.

Your body responds instantly, heat curling low in your stomach as he presses his lips just below your ear, exhaling softly. "Let me take care of you tonight," he mutters against your skin. “Just you, ma. Can I? S’that okay w’you?” He mumbles against the nape of your neck.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, heart hammering.

"Chris- please"

"Awh, I’ve got you, sweet thing." he cuts in, his voice low, firm. "Just let me."

You nod your head quickly before he wraps an arm around your waist.

“Can I take these off sweetheart?” He says, holding the waistband of your shorts. “Please— Chris.” You mumble, growing wetter by the second. He’s never been like this, he’s usually quick with things, he usually doesn’t call you anything sweet at all, which you don’t mind, it’s extremely sexy, but he’s acting really, really different.

He slowly pulls your shorts and panties down at the same time, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling of your bare pussy being on display for him, pulling a whimper from the back of your throat.

"Shh..." His hands move to slowly peel your clothes away, fingers tracing patterns on your skin. The way he touches you is different tonight - more intentional, almost... passionate. The TV continues to flicker in the background, casting shadows across his face as he looks down at you, now fully exposed.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful, y'know that?" he whispers, running his thumb over your bottom lip. His eyes are dark, intense as they roam over your body. He starts slow, pressing kisses along your collarbone, down to your breasts, his hands worshipping every curve.

You’re at a loss for words at his actions, so you just sit back and let him do all the talking.

"Turn over," he murmurs against your stomach, his voice low and commanding. You can feel the change in the atmosphere, the heaviness in his touch. He helps you roll onto your stomach, his large hands spreading your legs slightly. "Chin down,"

You’re a little worried about what he’s gonna do next, since he’s never treated you like this before, you don’t really know what you’re meant to expect from him.

He takes his time, running his hands over your back, your ass, his touch almost soothing. Then, without warning, he leans down and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the small of your back. You gasp, arching slightly.

“Chris” You whisper softly.

His touch becomes slower, softer. He spreads your legs wider, runs his fingers along your spine, your sides. He's hard - you can feel it when he lowers himself to press slow kisses to your back again, but this isn’t about him. Your body relaxes under his touch, your breathing deepens. He hums softly, lowering himself between your legs. His shoulders push your thighs wider apart. He spreads you with his thumbs, then covers your center with his mouth.

You toss your head back in pleasure at the new sensation. You’ve never been eaten out before, never been worshipped like you are right now and you’re loving every second of it. This shows from the high pitched moan that leaves the back of your throat.

“Yeah? Feel good baby?” He says as he pulls back slightly, blowing cool air over your damp flesh before diving back in with a low groan. His tongue delves deep, exploring every fold, teasing your clit with quick flicks. One hand grips your hip possessively while the other slides around to rub slow circles over your clit.

“S-soo good, Chris! Gonna cum!” You moan, back arching even further to give him better access to your heat.

He hums again, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. He spreads you wider with his thumbs, sucking hard on your clit. His fingers slide lower, one pushing inside easily due to how wet you are. He adds another finger, pumping slowly while his mouth works your clit relentlessly. "Mmmm fuck, you taste good," he muffles against you, fingers curling inside, stroking that particularly spongy spot inside of you that has you drooling onto his pillow. His other hand moves from your clit to grip your ass cheek, squeezing softly. He pulls back just enough to speak, "Yeah? Gon’ cum baby? Wanna cum all over my face?” He mumbles into your heat as you shake your head vigorously, legs starting to shake.

His fingers curl deep inside you, hitting that spot perfectly as his mouth sucks hard on your clit. You cry out, body convulsing as the waves hit you. He laps up your release, fingers slowing, letting you ride it out. He growls softly when your legs snap closed around his head. “Gooood girl, such a good girl f’me” he stretches out his words as he finally sits up. Your body falls onto the bed, limp.

He crawls up your body slowly, his face glistening with your release. He nuzzles between your breasts, his arms wrapping around your waist possessively. "You okay?" He murms softly, his hot breath tickling your stomach.

You don’t respond at first, the only thing being heard from you are soft pants as you try to catch your breath.

He leaves a soft kiss on your neck as you finally catch your breath. He sits up and runs to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and running warm water over it, bringing it back to the room and cleaning you up carefully.

You put your shorts and bra back on, sitting up and laying against his pillow, staring at him in admiration as he goes back to lighting his joint.

“Wan light up with me ma?” He says as he lights the joint and takes a hit, then moving his hand infront of my face, offering me a hit that I take.

We spend the rest of the night watching movies and getting high, but earlier just can’t leave my brain. Why was he acting like that? Being so careful with me, like I was his girlfriend, almost. Guess that’s just a questing for the morning.

mel speaks;

I hope yall liked this!! this one was the winner from the polls I made the other night, and I’m making another that should be up when you’re reading this, so go vote for which one you want next!! Happy early Valentine’s Day 😋

[vettelsvee]

I'M SORRY, JULIET | Mick Schumacher

Mick Schumacher x Secret Girlfriend Vettel!Reader

SUMMARY: You're secretly dating Mick, both of you hiding it from everyone in your families until you get so happy about him getting his first points in Formula 1 that your father, Sebastian, ends up finding out

WORD COUNT: 2404

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of teen pregnancy (age 17 from Seb and Hanna), angst. Settled on 2022 British GP

VEE'S NOTES: I missed so much posting about Mick so I had to bring him back... even that means Seb is the "bad guy" here. Hope you like it and thanks for reading! I'll be waiting for your opinions <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

You hadn’t attended a Formula 1 race for longer than you could remember, and truthfully, you never thought you would again until Mick Schumacher started turning your world pink.

The boy had known you since you were a child, back when you would occasionally attend races hand in hand with your grandfather, Norbert. Your relationship deepened every time you saw each other in the paddock or at family gatherings, and despite the age difference between you, you grew closer and closer until you eventually fell in love with each other.

Even before your relationship began, you were both fully aware of the obstacles in your way. It wasn’t just the fact that Mick was six years older than you, but also that you were the children of two drivers who weren’t just former rivals and friends, but also were like family.

All of that, combined with the inevitable pressure from the press if they ever found out about your relationship, mattered little to Mick. One afternoon in mid-June, when the Schumachers and the Vettels had gathered together, he had decided to confess his feelings for you. At first, you were completely in shock, hearing from the lips of the very boy you had loved for years that he loved you too.

So, of course, when Mick asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend, you didn’t doubt to say yes.

Neither of you cared what others might say because, for now, no one knew about your relationship.

And there you were now, standing in the Aston Martin garage alongside your mother and your three younger siblings, watching the race with great enthusiasm as Sebastian drove the emerald-green car.

To the outside world, it might have seemed like you were simply there for one of the most important days in your father’s career since it was his 35th birthday. But in reality more than watching your father, you wanted to see your boyfriend.

Hanna noticed the tense expression on your face. Smiling warmly and without taking her eyes off Emily and Matilda, who were playing tag nearby, she stepped closer to you.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You seem like you’re in another galaxy.”

Your body tensed at the question, something that happened every time someone in your inner circle mentioned directly or indirectly your secret boyfriend. You tried to hide what was on your mind, but the combination of your mother’s presence and your nerves made you say more than you actually wanted.

“I’m nervous because I want dad to finish in the points,” you said with as much conviction as possible, though it wasn’t enough to convince Sebastian’s wife. “And well… I’m also worried about Mick.”

Hanna raised an eyebrow, curious, but not pressing. She had once been seventeen too. More than that, she had gotten pregnant with you at that age, and she knew that your concern for Mick went beyond simple friendship. Mothers developed a sixth sense when it came to their children, and she knew you too well to be fooled.

“Mick? Why would you be worried about Mick?” she asked, making sure not to pry too much or reveal how much she already knew.

“Well… he’s having a really good race today,” you replied, lowering your gaze to the floor. “I’d like him to get a high position,” you explained, “even though with the piece of crap car he has we can’t expect much.”

Hanna nodded understandingly, reading between the lines of your words.

“I get it, sweetheart. I was the same way with your dad when he started racing,” she said, deliberately choosing her words to make you overthink. “Mick has a lot of talent, but he’s not in a team that helps him shine, so I understand why you care so much.”

“If you ever need to talk about Mick you know you can trust me, right?”  Hanna added,

You appreciated your mother’s words, though you remained cautious just in case she was digging for something that might expose your relationship. How naive you were to think she didn’t already know you were dating one of Sebastian’s best friends’ sons.

When the checkered flag waved and the twenty cars crossed the finish line, your eyes remained glued to the leaderboard. Not only had Carlos, one of your best friends, taken his first victory, but both Mick and Sebastian had finished in the points, placing eighth and ninth respectively.

Your father earning two points on his birthday was amazing. Your boyfriend earning three? Even better, especially since it was his first time scoring points in Formula 1. Saying you were emotional was an understatement, and no matter how much you tried to hold it in, a few tears escaped down your cheeks. You wiped them away quickly to avoid drawing attention.

Hanna, still by your side as she fed the youngest member of the family, noticed you approaching with a hesitant expression, as if you wanted to ask something but were afraid to.

“Can I go to Mick’s garage to congratulate him?” you asked cautiously. “It’s his first time scoring, and I’d like to say something to him in person before we leave for Switzerland.”

“I know you’re excited for him,” your mother said while burping the baby, “but I think it’s better if you stay here. It’s your dad’s birthday, and honestly? I doubt Haas would even let you see Mick.”

You nodded, though sadness crept in. You looked at the monitors, seeing the top three drivers already celebrating on the podium. Even from your location, you could hear the Spanish national anthem playing over the speakers.

“Mum,” you tried again, “come on, let me go congratulate Mick. I’ll be back quickly, and I’ll be here by the time dad gets back!”

Your exaggerated gestures and the way you waved your arms were too adorable, and Hanna couldn’t help but see herself in you. She remembered how she had felt when she started dating Sebastian, wanting nothing more than to see him every chance she had. As much as she tried to be the responsible mother, sometimes she just couldn’t help it. This was one of those moments, one where she gave in to the charms of her eldest, the spitting image of her father.

“Make sure you come back as soon as possible,” she relented with a small smile. “I don’t want your father calling me a bad mother for letting his baby do grown-up things.”

“Thank you, mum!”

With that being said, you sprinted off, weaving through mechanics, fans, and celebrities scattered around the paddock. You checked your phone to see if Mick had texted you, but there was nothing. That only made you hurry toward the Haas garage. Seeing it empty, you quickly turned around and headed toward the hospitality area, which was further away. While dodging anyone in your way, you sent Mick a message telling him you were on your way and that you had to be quick before your father returned.

When you arrived, the first thing you saw was Mick soaked in champagne, holding a bottle in his hand. The Haas team members, including Guenther, were celebrating. You felt out of place and your insecurity crept in, making you want to turn around and leave. But then Mick saw you, and the moment your eyes met, you knew you had made the right choice.

Mick immediately broke away from the group and rushed to your side, hugging you tightly. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, even if just a quick peck, but his rational side reminded him that now was not the place.

“Congratulations, Mick!” you exclaimed, your excitement taking over you. “Oh my God, oh my God! I’m so proud of you!” you squealed, throwing your arms around his neck.

“I finally get to see you, princess. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to,” he murmured playfully. “Although, I’d love to do a few other things with you.”

Your face turned bright red, something you had grown used to ever since you started dating Mick and were used to hear his endless compliments.

“How was the race?” he asked. “Did you like it, even though I probably looked like an idiot who doesn’t know how to drive?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mick!” you scolded, lightly hitting his arm. “You scored points for the first time. If that’s being an idiot, then I don’t know what that makes me.”

“That makes you the love of my life.”

Mick pulled you even closer, and just as he was about to kiss you, completely ignoring the risks, a voice interrupted.

Or rather, someone did.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Mick Schumacher?!”

As soon as you heard your father’s shouts, you and Mick pulled apart. You stood frozen, your face turning completely pale as Mick began cursing himself. How was he supposed to explain to the man who was like a father to him in many ways that he was dating you, his daughter?

You didn’t stay silent. You, who had a temper as strong as the man who had given her life, stepped between Mick and your father, trying to ease the tension that had formed over a simple show of affection.

“Dad, stop! It’s not what it looks like!” you exclaimed, nervous but determined.

“What do you mean it’s not what it looks like?” Sebastian scoffed, unwilling to believe your words. “Come on, Y/N, you were about to kiss him!”

“Yes, because Mick is my boyfriend,” you stated without hesitation. “We’ve been secretly dating since last month because we didn’t want to say anything just yet,” you explained without caring about the consequences. “So don’t act like this and use your fucking head and be reasonable for once.”

The Aston Martin driver was stunned, unsure how to react to the news that his daughter had a boyfriend, and that it was none other than the son of the man he considered his best friend, who had once been his mentor.

Mick watched as Sebastian looked at you in disbelief before shifting his gaze back to you, focusing all his attention on you.

“Y/N, this is insane… Mick,” he gestured toward him, “isn’t just any driver, he’s the son of—”

“I already know, Dad!” you interrupted, your tone sharp. “And? Does it matter? I don’t care who his father is, or who mine is, or the relationship between you two,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “We love each other, we take care of each other, and that’s the only thing that should matter to you.”

Mick alternated his gaze between father and daughter, finally mustering the courage to say something. But, before he could even open his mouth, Sebastian raised his right hand, silencing him immediately:

“Stop trying to fix this. You’ve fucked up, Mick,” he muttered as he stepped closer, his voice low enough that not even you could hear it. “My daughter is too young, and you know you could get into serious trouble if this gets out,” he added before stepping away and moving back toward you. “ I just sort of saved you from shit talks about you, so consider yourself lucky.”

“You can’t blame Mick for this, Dad,” you interjected defiantly. “We’re adults, and we can make our own decisions, so just leave us alone already.”

“You are not an adult, Y/N Vettel, you’re still a kid,” Sebastian snapped, his voice filled with unfiltered anger. “Stop acting like you are, because all you are is a reckless little girl.”

“Let me remind you that when you were 17 you fucked mum and you got her pregnant.”

You threw it out without thinking, and immediately, you regretted it, placing your hands over your mouth as if that could fix what you had just said. You knew you had been the most beautiful mistake your parents had, but you didn’t think about the impact it could have in their lives, especially in your father’s.

"I'm sorry, Juliet," the older driver began, trying not to let his anger and, especially, the pain he felt from your comment show. "But it's time to leave."

"Dad..."

"Not 'dad' or anything, Y/N," Sebastian said, raising his voice and making it sound harsher than he had intended at first. "Do you think it’s funny for me to see my daughter rubbing herself up against the one I consider my son?"

Mick paled as he heard his mentor’s words, feeling completely awful because he knew Sebastian was right. You threw him a look, but didn’t have the strength to answer. You were so in shock that you didn’t know how you hadn’t just left yet.

"And you, Mick," he said now, shooting a penetrating look at the young man, "I thought you could show a little more respect for our family and everything we’ve built together all these years."

Having said that, Sebastian took you by your shoulders carefully and started walking back to where the rest of your family was, not giving you or Mick a chance to say goodbye.

"We don't choose who we fall in love with, Sebastian," Schumacher blurted out, still frozen in place.

Your father and you turned around. The look of disappointment on Seb’s face made Mick feel a thousand times worse than he ever thought he could, but it was the sight of your tears falling rapidly that made him start crying.

"I expected you, more than anyone, to agree with this," he continued, pointing at you and himself, "because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that your daughter deserves someone good who can make her life the best it can be. If I can’t be that person because you won’t let us..." he pointed at himself, "...then I’ll be okay with it being someone else."

Vettel swallowed hard, not knowing what to say to the German’s words.

"I just want Y/N to be happy," the boy said again, "and if I have to let her go for now until you can accept and see that I’m really in love with your daughter, and that she’s the love of my life, I’ll be willing to do so."

With that, the young man turned around, trying not to look back, hoping to hear some words from those he had considered his family for so many years.

But, unfortunately for him, you and your father didn’t.

[hellodarling1357]

More Than A Moment: Part 1 - Cassian x Reader (AU!)

What? A post? A whole new fic? After months of broken promises (rip me)?

I sporadically got the inspo to write today and this idea just flowed on out and all but wrote itself!

Is this a stand alone? A multi-part (I hope so)?

Who knows!

Either way, I hope you enjoy 🥰

Summary: After a drunken night between friends, just friends, nothing more, Y/N and Cassian’s lives end up changing forever. But maybe not in the way they had originally expected.

Word Count: 1.5k

“Cassian!” You shout through the door, one fist pounding on the wooden frame as the other, hidden away in your coat pocket, held tightly to what had felt like a lifeline since you had raced to the store just over an hour ago.

“Cassian! I swear to god if you don’t open the door right now…” You took a step back as your fist met the air, the words dying in your throat as a girl with sleep mussed hair, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that you knew belonged to Cassian, stared back at you with a look of distaste.

“What?” The girl asked, stifling a yawn as her eyes blatantly looked you up and down, a smirk spreading across her lips as she took in your frazzled appearance. “We’re a little busy here, so…”

You blinked at her before pushing past and making your way inside the small apartment, ignoring the girl’s protest as you beelined for Cassian’s room, stopping momentarily as the door opened before you could reach it.

“Y/N. Hey,” the man in question was straightening out a tight black t-shirt, having clearly put on the closest items of clothing he could reach. “I didn’t expect to see you today, especially not at 8 am on a Sunday morning…”

“We need to talk.”

“Okay, alright. Could this not have waited until a more reasonable time?”

“Cass, please…”

Clearly picking up on the slight plea in your voice, he nodded, a slight furrow to his brow as he studied you a moment longer before turning to the girl who remained bristling by the front door.

“Hey,” he started, beckoning the girl towards him, you cringed as you took a seat on the couch, not wanting to be a part of the scene that was about to unfold. “So last night was fun, yeah? But I think there’s a few things I need to deal with here so we should probably wrap this up for now?”

“Oh? So you want me to leave?” You rolled your eyes as she clung to him, battering her lashes in hopes of changing his mind as he led her back into his room to help her collect her things, not missing the daggers she sent your way when Cassian’s back was turned.

“It’s not that I want you to leave… But I’ll call you. Soon, alright?”

“You better.”

Barely managing to conceal your scoff you busied yourself with your phone as she pulled him down into a lingering kiss.

“Alright, well get home safe and thanks again for last night…” Cassian trailed off and your attention flickered over in disbelief as he clearly tried to scramble for the poor girl’s name.

“Rebecca. My name’s Rebecca.” Her icy tone was a stark contrast as she moved out of his grasp.

“Of course, I know your name. How could I forget? I was just deciding whether I wanted to start calling you babe or baby.”

You didn’t attempt to hide the disgust at your friend as he shot the girl a charming smile that had her swooning as she said her goodbyes - all iciness melting into a flirtatiously shy smile as she stared up at him from under heavy lashes.

“You really can be a pig sometimes, you do realise that?” You said without looking up from your phone once Cassian had shut the door behind the girl.

“What?” He asked, voice laced in indignation as he slumped onto the couch beside you.

“Oh I dunno, do I call you babe or baby? Of course I remember your name, random-girl-I’ll-never-actually-call.” You lowered your voice into a mockery of his own before being met with a pillow to your face as Cassian got up and headed towards the bathroom.

“Hey, I just got rid of a perfectly nice girl for you. No need for the disrespect. What’s so important anyway? You know I love to see you and all that, but usually not at this time.” He leant against the bathroom door, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth as he stared at you waiting for an answer.

Right.

You had almost forgotten that you were here for a reason other than witnessing one of your closest friends be a complete dick to a girl he’d spent the previous night with.

“Oh… Um yeah it’s all good. Get dressed or whatever then we can chat.”

Cassian stared at you for a moment longer before shrugging and returning to the bathroom. You slumped back as soon as you were out of sight, squashing the pillow Cassian had previously whacked you with against your face as your thoughts raced through your head. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

By the time Cassian was ready, you had had enough time to work yourself into a somewhat frantic state as you paced back and forth, trying to figure out how to even bring up the reason why you had almost knocked down his door on a seemingly normal Sunday.

“Jesus, what’s up with you this morning?” Your head whipped around to face Cassian, freezing mid-pace to stare at him like a deer in headlights. When the only reply you could muster was the very unsubtle opening and closing of your mouth, Cassian let out a sigh as he reached for his shoes. “Well, seeing that you appear to have a whole heap of pent up energy, we’re walking to the cafe down the street. Your shout for waking me up and prematurely ending what was sure to be a very satisfying Sunday morning.”

You scrunched your nose but nodded all the same as you silently headed towards the door, missing the concerned look on Cassian’s face as his eyes trailed your retreating figure before he jumped up to follow you out.

——

The ten minute walk was silent except for the slight crunch of autumn leaves under foot as the pair of you narrowly avoided the early risers who were jogging past along the footpath and manoeuvred around the copious stream of families with young children enjoying the crisp morning air; your heart rate soared as you tried to control your breathing

Cassian managed to score a secluded table tucked away by the window, thanking the waiter for the menus and water as you stared past him in a daze, your mind reeled of how to approach telling him what had happened, what had resulted from…

A large hand waving in front of your face had you blinking in surprise.

“Y/N?”

“Yep. Hi.”

Cassian gave you another quizzical look but was halted from saying anything else as the waiter returned, asking about coffee and food orders.

“Just a long black for me, thanks.”

You could hear your heartbeat and wouldn’t be surprised if everyone around you could as well.

“Y/N?” Cassian gave you a soft kick under the table, pulling your attention to the waiter who was looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, um… Just a latte. Thank you,” Shit. Could you even have coffee now? “Wait. I mean, no. Just a tea. Peppermint, please. If you have it. Sorry.” Your voice trailed after the waiter as he nodded and walked off with a shake of his head. So far, this was not going well.

“Alright, what has gotten into you?” The immediate retort of ‘um you?’ was held back by a bite of your tongue. “You better not be here confessing your love for me. I mean we spoke about this, right? It was just a one off, drunken night between two friends who both happen to be very attractive.”

Some of the tension left your shoulders as you offered a small smile in appreciation of Cassian’s attempt to lighten the mood.

“You’re not actually in love with me are you?” You rolled your eyes at the slight panic in his expression, deciding not to take it as an insult. “I mean, I love you, but, you know, as a friend. Because we’re friends. We’re all friends; me, you, Rhys, Az, Feyre, Mor…”

“Cassian,” you let the smile grow a bit as he prattled on. “I’m not in love with you.”

“Oh, thank god. No offence.” He offered you a guilty looking smile which softened as he nodded in encouragement for you to continue.

“But I did want to talk about that night…” You trailed off, trying to gauge Cassian’s response as he quirked his head to the side and furrowed his brows in confusion. Well, here it goes. Taking in a deep breath, you reached into your pocked and placed the pregnancy test on the table.

“Cass, I’m pregnant.”

----------

I have so many ideas for this and how I want to continue it but would love to hear your thoughts!!

[htrfkyeki]

1.

"What do you want from me in return huh?"

"Oya oya, someone are lovely enough for lean me a hand hmm. So, want to join me tea party?"

"Rightttttttt, i was so weakkkkkk right now, thanks for your help."

"...i can do it myself, please."

"Heh? Do i need to pay you?"

"Why?"

"You busybody, you know?"

"No thank you, i can do it myself."

"Do you think you can do it?"

2.

"You think it's funny?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, everyone know i was the Mad Hatter a long time ago, you lag behind very much, buggy."

"Hehhhhh. Really? That's all you can say?"

"...i will tell the twins."

"I have the better one for you though, what do you refer more, poison or desert, or BOTH?"

"My strings can carry even something heavy like a car, do you want to try yourself?"

"You know, i made someone went missing before, and i don't mind to do it again?"

"DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?"

"𝔈𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔷𝔷𝔞𝔯𝔡."

3.

"And you give it to me because?"

"Oh, i also have useless thinggy too, twiny much hahaha."

"I'll give it to Ruggie-senpai, thanks."

"...do you not know how to use money wisely?"

"Do i look poor to you?"

"You can have it back."

"Even Dia-san have more useful thing that the one you give me now."

"Why?"

"I don't need that."

4.

*Sigh* "Make sure to clean all of it later, 'k?"

"Eh? Tea party? Why it's not tea partyyyyyyyy?"

"What a hassle..."

*He running away when he saw there was a party waitting for him.

"Did Kalim told you to do this? Jamil didn't said anything either?"

"I- thank you."

"Huh?"

"Why?"

"Did someone force you to do this?"

5.

"Who ask?"

"Me too, hehe."

"And you telling me this because?"

"...do i know you?"

"As if i care."

"Wow, you thought you was someone important to me for me to care that much?"

"Then go away?"

"So?"

"You wasting my time, you know that?"

6.

presume the one ignore them was their lovers

"Why are you ignore me? Was i do something wrong? Please, i hate being like this, Jade..."

"Eh? Trey? Pay attention to meeeeeee."

"I just give Cheka a headpat and now you sulking with me? Really, Leo-san?"

*He crying. Azul then have to appease him and promise that he still love Erol.

"You know that not working on me right Kalim? Do you one me to pull that trick instead?"

"What did i do this time to upset you, Vil-san..."

"I'M SORRY... please don't ignore me Dia-san..."

"Are you in bad mood right now? Or i just fuck up something? Talk to me, Floyd."

"It's... fine i guess. I used to be ignore anyway..."

7.

"What are you doing?"

"Am i that famous?"

"Attention seeker much?"

"...and here i thought only Floyd could make some scene."

"Uh oh. Why is everyone looking at me? I'm not doing anything."

*Sigh* "I hate it here."

*He use his unique magic to run away.

"You're even worst than Sebek, and that boy only cause scenes when it relate to Malleus-senpai."

*Bold of you to assume that Nevi show up in public.

8.

"No."

"Gladly." *progress to pull a loudest voice he could produce.

*Side eyes that person until they coward away.

*He stare blankly at that person, until the twins magically appear in front of them and ask Erol what's wrong. That doesn't end well...

"Told Kalim instead, he is a person people after all."

"You're crazy."

"Do you want me to blackmail you instead?"

"You have some gut for told me to do that. And that's not a compliment."

"Why i have to do that?"

9.

"Really? Jade said that? Let's me ask him then, and i'll do that if it's real. And if not... you dead."

"TREYYYYY, DO YOU REALLY WANT ME TO GO WITH THIS BUGGY TODAY INSTEAD OF YOU?"

"As if Leo-san would tell me to do that. Next time try to be more creative, yeah?"

"I- did Azul really told me to sing in front of you and your frie-" *He didn't finish his sentence, as Azul appear behind him with his sinister smile.

"You sound too suspicious. What do you plotting now you peasant."

*He call Vil for comfirmation, after the housewarden denying he didn't said anything like that, Vermeil give that person a death stare, then go away.

*Deadpanned. Then go away, he didn't want to deal with stupid people.

"Oh, so FLOYD LEECH told me to do that huh? Bring him here, make him tell it himself, then i comply." *The unhinged Leech happen to pass by that time, let's say after that no one dare to put word in either of them mouth anymore.

*He doesn't even let that person finish the sentence and teleport to somewhere else. It's happen to be Malleus dorm room. After Nevi ask him if the thing that person want him to do was real. And of course it's not real. Then they cuddle. (Malleus ask Lilia to find the person who have a gut to mess with his mate, then make sure that person never try to do anything like that again).

10.

"Don't want to, thank anyway."

"Oh. Party? Can i invite my boyfriend and friends too?"

"I have enough with social gathering, thank you very much."

"S-sorry, i'm busy right now."

"Sorry, i'm already join one, the one Kalim organize at Scarabia. Do you want to join instead?"

"Can i refuse it?"

"Uh uh, no party, i hate loud place, sorry."

"Did you invite wrong person? I'm not Malleus-senpai."

*The person was too scare to approach him, let's alone invite him to social gathering.

11.

"Isn't it a little bit too much? I don't have money to pay you back you know."

"I know it's out of character for me, but fancy restaurant doesn't suit me at all, i'm sorry."

"Are you try to impress me?"

"Do you want to go to Monstro Lounge instead? I have a discount for worker in there."

"Fancy lancy. At least you have some taste."

"Uh oh, you're rich."

"Can we not-"

"Oh, really?"

"My sincere thanks to you, but i'm afraid i can not join you for dinner right now."

☆ — oc questions: reactions. by @ricesinspo, tag me if using!

— ☆ —

how would your character react if someone did these things? consider their personality and behavior, as well as who is doing it and why.

alternatively, ask game: send me a question + 2 characters

offered to help them on something they can do on their own

jokingly made fun of them

gave them a gift they didn't want

threw them a surprise party

told them "i don't care about you"

kept ignoring them

brought lots of attention to them

asked them to perform in front of an audience, like right now, without prep

asked them to do something they're uncomfortable with, "oh, but you have to do it, for [loved one]!"

invited them to a social gathering

took them to a fancy restaurant

told them they're a bad friend / partner / ...

wrote them a poem

died two weeks ago (they only found out now)

pulled a prank on them that went very wrong

pulled them aside from the crowd

told them a secret

exposed something about them that should've been kept private

told them "we need to talk."

punched them

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