#please why would you even call your uncle during that

[hollaringmountains]

Spoilers for chp 90-92..?

.

So I've read and re-read and re-read the whole mirror scene in passion manhwa and some novel excerpts found on tktk. And let me tell you!! The webtoon doesn't do it justice!! You can see that taeui is against it yet some of his expressions and dialogues say the opposite! And then there's illay with his one track mind😒😒 (finding out he doesn't have that much game was hilarious though)

BUT CAN WE HAVE SOME INSIGHT ON WHY TAEUI KEEPS ALLOWING ILLAY TO DO ASNHE WISHES!! (I mean I already know BUT STILL!!)

Atleast illay cleaned him up and did bare minimum 😑😑

Some of those panels deserved to eb in horror genre😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

THIS PANEL BELOW MAKES ME WANT TO COMMIT BECAUSE THEY'RE SO MUCH IN LOVE BUT DONT KNOW HOW TO TALK!!!

[lilhawkeye3]

A Crash Course to Kendrick's Super Bowl Performance, from a Black Woman

Note: this does NOT go in depth into all of the song's lyrics. I don't have time to recount two decades of his discography. This is just a summary of the performance itself.

Let's start with the first visual we get:

UNCLE SAM - most notably recognized from WWII American wartime propaganda, Uncle Sam is the personification of American patriotism and freedom. The term "uncle" is also evocative of Uncle Tom from Uncle Tom's Cabin, an abolitionist book that aided in inciting the Civil War. Uncle is also a very common term (both endearment and derogatory) towards Black men (eg. "unc"). Samuel L Jackson was fantastic. (Edit: and please look up his history of civil rights activism, he was on the FBI watchlist and even a pallbearer at MLKJr’s funeral.)

Uncle Sam also resembles a circus ringleader, notable for my next point:

THE GREAT AMERICAN GAME - no, not Super Bowl. The GAG is us the people being pitted against each other: through late-stage capitalism, through the culture war, through class warfare, through being built of the backs of slaves. We are all players in the GAG because none of us on this site were the oligarchs seated at the inauguration.

This is also seen as Kendrick's stage was a Play Station controller. Not only did it remind of circus rings visually, but it was a game battle stage. The Great American Game is a battle royale of the commoners for the amusement of the rich whites.

Remember the foods / Them color was tin and brown / But now they 100 and blue - For this I'll just say, look what the last election said about lowering the price of eggs... and look at the prices now.

The revolution about to be televised / You picked the right time / But the wrong guy - Election 2024 once more. *Edit to add, the first part of this lyric is in reference to the Black Liberation Song "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" by Gil Scott-Heron. Thanks to everyone who mentioned that.

THE FLAG DANCERS - yes, the dancers formed the US flag... off of the backs of Black people. Not a single white person in sight, and that's true of the cotton pickers in the fields. Plantations are part of how the US came to economic prominence after being a "backwater" colony. Remember tobacco? Cotton? Our bloodlines do. *Edit to add: they also all piled out of a clown car. The US flag in a clown car? Brilliant.

The red and blue dancers are also notable for representing the Crips and Bloods, two infamous street gangs. The dance in Not Like Us is the Crip Walk. I recommend researching more on your own time about them, but just know they are a large part of the stereotype of Black people being "ghetto."

TOO LOUD, TOO RECKLESS, TOO GHETTO. Do you really know how to play the game? - This is exactly what Black people, especially Black men, get told all the time. It's why we change our names on resumes if they sound "too Black." It's why we codeswitch in non-Black company. This is especially rich considering how non-Black people love our culture and love to make money off of us, as the latter part of the quote points to. And it's even more profound during the Super Bowl-- the NFL is majority Black players.

STREET LIGHT A CAPELLA -- "thug" stereotype dancers to counteract the a capella connotations, with Uncle Sam then saying that Kendrick figured out "bringing other street guys around being a culture cheat code." Yes, this is a direct hit at Drake (listen to "Not Like Us") but also politically. Look up "model minority". Notably I would point to Candace Owens, or the Miami Venezuelan political group that's been in the news recently, especially as this directly led to Kendrick being surrounded by...

DANCERS IN WHITE -- it's white America. That's... that's the allegory.

NOT LIKE US TEASER -- Kendrick says "Not Like Us" is "their favorite song." -> he means white people specifically here. It comes after he's surrounded by all white dancers, the women around him who are his call and response are also in white (my opinion, they represent the industry). He's saying "Not Like Us" is the favorite of yts because it is about BLACK MEN FIGHTING. This again is reflected in the video game stage and ringleader Uncle Sam.

SZA -- instead of giving what they want, we see SZA. She's one of Drake's exes and Kendrick has always supported her.

ALL THE STARS -- This was in the first Black Panther movie, which I recommend you watch. Rest in Power Chadwick. Notably, this movie was incredibly mainstream as a major Marvel movie, and then we have Uncle Sam say...

"THAT'S WHAT AMERICA WANTS: NICE AND CALM. DON'T MESS THIS UP" -- translation: Marvel (the industry, America, etc.) wanted a safe, semi-pop song because white American likes safe pop songs, not Kendrick's usual heavy rap style about his life as a Black man! Don't mess up what you've got going mainstream for having this "Black rap feud" with Drake, who is an R&B model minority to white people because he's safe.

So what does Kendrick say?

IT'S A CULTURAL DIVIDE / IMMA GET IT ON THE FLOOR -- He was warned not to be political or apologetically Black for this Super Bowl performance, but he is using this big stage opportunity to speak out.

40 ACRES AND A MULE / THIS IS BIGGER THAN THE MUSIC -- 40 acres and a mule are what the freed slaves were promised. Instead, this land went to white sharecroppers. Research Jim Crow laws.

THEY TRIED TO RIG THE GAME / BUT YOU CAN'T FAKE INFLUENCE -- rig the election, rig the industry like with model minority Drake, rig the Great American Game with culture war to distract from active class warfare.

NOT LIKE US -- the only thing I'll mention because it made me holler is Serena Williams crip walking on Drake's metaphorical grave. She's another one of his exes (read: Drake harassed the hell out of her). *Edit: she was also fined at the 2012 Olympics for crip walking in celebration at Wimbledon.

TURN THE TV OFF -- exactly like he said! The TV is a distraction, the Super Bowl is a distraction, the mainstream news is often a distraction. Turn it off and get with your people!

GAME OVER — could not see this on my stream but at the end of the performance, the lights in the stadium spelled this out. The world is watching, America…

In conclusion, Kendrick Lamar is a visionary and thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[alexiroflife]

"first day"

fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off

Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door

to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of

WC: 1,701

Warning(s): none

"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"

"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."

"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.

"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."

"Not at all, actually," you agree.

Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"

"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."

"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.

"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.

"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."

"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.

"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."

"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."

"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.

"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."

Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.

"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"

"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."

"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"

"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."

"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.

"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.

"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.

"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.

"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.

"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.

"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."

"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."

"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."

Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"

"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."

The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."

"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."

Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.

"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."

The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"

"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."

"But-"

"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"

"We done, now?"

"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."

Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.

Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.

He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."

You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."

"I know. I will," he nods.

"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."

"I won't."

"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."

"I'll try."

You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.

"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.

"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"

"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."

"Please do."

Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't speed, Toji."

"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.

"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.

"See ya, doll."

"Bye, mum."

The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.

You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.

You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.

Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.

"Yep."

Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.

Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."

"I'm gonna cry."

The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"

"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."

"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."

"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."

"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."

"You're being for real?"

"Of course I am."

You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."

"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"

"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."

He smirks. "Will do, doll."

[sealmisuyu]

Seventeen and their baby💭

─┈ ۫  ˖  ⊹ ୨sealmisuyu◛ ˚₊🍈 ֹ ׅ ɞ more content under the cut!

You were convinced that being an idol was supposed to be cool.

You were also convinced that being the youngest in a company full of older idols should not mean you were treated like a lost puppy at all times.

But Seventeen had other plans.

The first time you met Seventeen, you were starstruck. The second time you were ambushed.

"She’s so small" Seungkwan announced, staring at you like you were a rare animal at the zoo.

"I’m literally a normal height" you deadpanned, but it didn’t matter because Mingyu had already picked you up off the ground like a sack of rice.

"HAVE YOU BEEN EATING WELL?"

"PUT ME DOWN THE FUCK—"

And from that day on, the teasing never stopped. You were practically a baby to them, and they took their big brother roles seriously.

"Did you drink water today?"

You blinked up at Minghao, who had materialized out of nowhere with a bottle of water in hand.

"Uh… yeah?"

He squinted. "Drink again."

You sighed but took a sip anyway, because you knew better than to argue with him.

And it wasn’t just that.

When you tried ordering coffee, Joshua intercepted with a horrified gasp. "You’re too young for that!"

"Josh, I’m literally an adult"

"You’ll stunt your growth!"

"I’M ALREADY GROWN?!"

Dino nodded solemnly. "This is how they treat me, too. There’s no escape"

Unfortunately you learned that the hard way.

One time, you tripped during a music show rehearsal, and before you even hit the ground, Joshua had already caught you, Jeonghan was checking your knees, and Hoshi was yelling at the floor.

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO HER?!"

(Hoshi please it’s just a floor)

And don’t even think about dating.

"Who are you texting?" Woozi asked casually, glancing at your phone.

"No one."

"You smiled."

"I was looking at a meme!"

But it was too late.

"WHO IS IT?"

"DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH?"

"IS IT SOMEONE WE KNOW?"

The way they interrogated you, you’d think you were committing a crime.

"Guys, I don’t even like anyone!" you huffed.

"Good" Vernon nodded"Boys are scary"

"…Aren't you a boy?"

"Exactly."

If you posted a selfie, they flooded the comments with embarrassing uncle energy.

"Our baby is so cute!!!" – Hoshi

"Why is she posing like that?" – Woozi

"POCKET SIZED" – DK

If you did a weevers live, they showed up in the chat like overbearing parents.

"Did you eat?" – Seungcheol

"Why are you still awake??" – Jeonghan

"She’s not even reading our comments, betrayal." – Jun

It wasn’t just words. They really did treat you like a younger sibling in every way. If you were lost in a music show building, you called Mingyu. If you were stressed about choreography, you messaged soonyoung for tips. If a sunbae was being intimidating, Wonwoo would just... stand next to you silently until they backed off.

And whenever you had a comeback, they made sure to cheer the loudest.

"She’s so tiny!" Dino cooed when he watched your latest stage.

"That’s crazy" Vernon muttered. "She’s literally our age gap in physical form"

You rolled your eyes at them but couldn’t help the smile creeping up your face.

They acted like you couldn’t even breathe without their supervision, but you kind of… loved it? They never let you feel alone in the industry, always making sure you had people to lean on.

So, after your first music show, when you turned your head instinctively to find your members, your eyes instead landed on them— Seventeen, screaming their heads off in the crowd like proud dads at a school play.

And when you cried after winning your first award, they didn’t tease, didn’t joke.

They just hugged you one by one, whispering, "We’re so proud of you little one"

And suddenly you realized.

They weren’t just your sunbaes.

They were family.

[wonderjanga]

Super Grandpa

When Superman first made his debut, people were in awe of him. Children and adults alike held awe and wonder for him. As for elderly, they also loved him. As for why? Because he was like the second coming of Captain Marvel. A super who was the hero during the fourties’ to sixties’. Naturally, other people besides the elderly noticed this too. This led to a theory popping up that Superman was Captain Marvel’s son or grandson. Most people were leaning to grandson though because if he was the Captain’s kid, he’d be at least fifty years old now. Not the twenty something year old guy they know. But yeah, people think they’re related, here’s a couple reasons why.

Supes: *being interviewed*

Lois Lane: *holding a mic up for Clark to speak into* “Superman, who would you say inspired you to become a hero?”

Supes: “Uh- I’d say…” *sounds and looks a little embarrassed* “Captain Marvel? I mean, look at me.” *gestures to himself* “I just have more blue than him. Plus, I mean he was my hero as a kid. I had the power to be like him so I decided to put it to use.”

A lot of people thought that sounded like a little kid talking about their parent being their hero, even though Clark was in all actuality, just talking about Marvel being his hero in general.

or

Wondy and Supes: *meeting each other for the first time*

Wondy: *nostalgic smile* “You know, you remind me of my brother.”

Supes: “Brother?”

Wondy: “He went by Captain Marvel?”

Supes: “Wait, seriously?” *bros ecstatic on the inside*

Wondy: “Yes. You look similar. Your suits are similar. Your ideals are similar. I’m sure you two would’ve gotten along wonderfully.” *sounds sad towards the end*

Supes: “I hope so.”

(This is the Wonder Woman that first came to America during WW2)

or

Supes: “Well, I myself have never met Captain Marvel, but my parents actually met him.”

Flash: “Wait, really? Were are your parents also superheroes?”

Supes: “No, they were normal people. He met them when they were teenagers apparently.”

Flash is over here thinking “Okay, so he might not be his dad, but he could be his uncle or cousin.” As for how the Kents knew Billy, he met them when he stopped them from getting into a car crash.

Then the time bubble popped, and Captain Marvel appeared once again. You couldn’t even ask Clark how he got the man to sit down with him at a diner and eat pie with him.

Marvel: “So you’re a hero too?”

Supes: “Yup. I’m part of the Justice League.” *nervously eating his pie*

Marvel: “What’s that? Are they like the JSA?”

Supes: Yes, sir, some of the members from the team actually joined us after they disbanded.

Marvel: “Sir…? Please don’t call me that. Also, they disbanded?”

Supes: “Yeah, during the 80s I think they disbanded.”

Marvel: “Dang… well at least that’s good.”

Supes: “Why would that be good?”

Marvel: “Oh well, the them disbanding part isn’t good, but the fact that you and others stepped up to create another superhero team that could spread hope throughout the states is incredible.” *smiles*

Supes: *absolutely fangirling inside* “You think so?”

Marvel: “Oh, absolutely.”

or

Marvel and Supes: *teamed up to fight some alien*

After the fight…

Marvel: “Gosh! You were just amazing! I’d love to fight with you again.” *smiles and ruffles his hair, cause he’s so darn tall*

Supes: “You could do that if you join the league, you know?” *internally screaming because his idol just ruffled his hair*

Marvel: “I really should. I’d thought about joining the JSA before the whole… y’know, suspendium.”

Supes: *trying to sound nonchalant* “We’d love to have you.”

People thought Marvel looked like a proud dad while Supes looked so happy to be praised.

So yes, the Marvel and Superman being family theories are strong.

Meanwhile, during all of this, Billy just thinks this guy is a cool dude.

[dameronspector]

Philophobia

(PART 1)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Stark!Reader

Summary: Devastated by your father’s death and cutting yourself off from everyone, you are on the road of recovery, accompanied by your uncle Rhodey. After Rhodey has finally convinced you, you agree to reunite with Sam Wilson and help him with his tech. He introduces you to another techie nerd, named Joaquin Torres, for the first time. Will you let your phobia get in the way and push away your new found family and this beautiful boy? Or will you get better and let yourself be loved once again?

Warnings: Mentions of Death and Depression/Depressive episodes, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Abuse by a parent (not Tony), Weight loss due to stress, Nightmares, Some cursing, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Rogers Slander- please don’t read this if that’s not something you’re looking for, Reader is sassy and a bit reserved because of The incident and because they’re a Stark, Reader has some phobias, Found family, also there’s a few references and hidden plots in this. 😁 (please keep in mind that I wrote this from my point of view as a south asian.)

Author’s note: I probably went overboard and this is very long + very self indulgent….but tony stark is the father who raised me and joaquin torres is my boyfriend so i Had to do this. ☺️ also lots of found family content with Rhodey, Sam and Bucky. Set around the time of TFATWS. Please let me know if there’s any changes to be made if I have written anything wrong.

Moving back to New York was extremely hard and painful for you ever since your dad passed away. That was the city that you were born and raised in and it had the ghosts of your father’s and family’s moments everywhere. But you told Pepper that you couldn’t handle living in that cabin anymore because 1. you were going stir crazy since you loved the hustle bustle of a city and 2. the depressive episodes were more frequent than ever.

You’d think living in your family cabin that has your father’s memories written across every wall would help you…but you’re a Stark. Ignoring your own problems and running away from emotions is kind of your specialty. Hereditary, even.

Pepper, bless her heart, told you that she’s happy you are trying to get back your life back on track and that she would always be there for you. Even if you called her Pepper, she’s always been your Mother.

Hardest part of it all was saying goodbye to Morgan. Little Morgan who was so attached to you and vice versa. She was too young to even process her father’s death, how was she supposed to understand why her elder sibling was never leaving their room? And now that same sibling was going too far away from their house. It took Pepper, Happy and you to console Morgan and she was finally ready to send you off–only with a (pinky) promise of visiting her during holidays.

Rhodey and Happy helped you settle in your newest house- a penthouse in manhattan that your dad left behind for you. That was 3 months ago. Now, fully settled in your new space, you’ve decided to restart college to finish your degree that was put on pause because of a giant purple psycho. You had decided you will stop the whole Avenger shit the moment you lost your dad. You needed to leave that life behind in order to move on, and what better than being filthy educated and eventually finding a normal job?

Well, let’s just say it didn’t go as planned.

I mean, really, were you expecting to just magically heal from the most traumatic time of your life in three months, with no therapy or contact from your family and friends?

Panic attacks are like your best friends. The other day you had a panic attack because you found a scarf that was gifted to you by your dad. Embarrassing, really.

Nightmares are something you have been walking hand-in-hand with since your dad was kidnapped and you were just a little kid. But now, every night you close your eyes and you see your father’s lifeless eyes staring back into yours.So it’s not surprising that you have become insomniac as well.

Overall, you were continuing the Stark legacy of being severely mentally ill but not doing anything to help it or accepting any help. The only difference was that you chose NOT to drink until you blacked out because after watching your dad do that as a kid, you developed a strong distaste for any type of alcohol. It was so bad, that you got diagnosed with dispophobia– a persistent fear of drinking alcohol. It’s real, look it up.

You chose the other option—pushing everyone around you away until you wallowed in your misery, loneliness and sorrows.

This behaviour of yours was constantly stressing Pepper, Rhodey and Happy out. All three of them did their best to help you and make you socialise, but everytime they approached, you either ignored their calls and messages or told them you were busy (by busy you meant that you were tinkering on your father’s old suits that you moved to your apartment, but you didn’t tell them that.)

Even FRIDAY tried giving them updates on your well-being but you had threatened the AI to not “leak” any of your “information”. This was giving the three of them a major déjà vu. Eventually, they had enough and Rhodey came to your house one day because he knew he’s the only one who can call out your shit. He kinda had a Phd in tackling the Stark family’s issues.

“Look kid, it’s been 3 months. You haven’t bothered to call or text any of us. We didn’t even know if you were alive since you have banned FRIDAY from reporting anything to us as well. Can you please spend one evening with us for a dinner? Hell, if not all of us,then atleast meet up with Morgan?”, Rhodey said firmly with his eyebrows furrowed and arms folded tightly around his chest, leaning on your kitchen island.

You were making your dinner when he decided to come over. Trying your best to be nonchalant, you kept stirring the soup with your back to him, and scoffed, “You sound exactly like dad sometimes.”

Rhodey closed his eyes in frustration. “That’s not important right now. You’re doing the same thing that Tony did when he was feeling all these… emotions. Please, stop this kiddo. You’ve got all of us. Always. Just reach out once and we’ll be there to catch you”, he replied in a soft tone.

You took a deep breath and he saw your shoulders go up and down. You stopped stirring the soup, turned the gas off and turned around to face him.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, making yourself smaller, and intently focused on your shoes to avoid meeting his eyes.

“There’s nothing to ask. I’ve already told you I will be starting college soon. I’ll keep myself productive and occupied. It’ll be alright, don’t worry about me”, you say, your voice scratchy after not using it for a long time.

Rhodey observed you with his sharp gaze. You knew you were screwed the moment you saw Rhodey at the door because he could read you like a book. Honestly, it was extremely intimidating but you will never admit that to his face. He’s been around for your whole life- right from your birth. He knew you like you were his own child.

“FRIDAY, activate babysitter protocol”, he said, his voice stern.

You snapped your gaze up from your shoes to stare at him in confusion.

“On it Mr. Rhodes”, FRIDAY replied.

“What the hell is this?”, you replied narrowing your eyes at him.

“I know you blocked FRIDAY from telling us anything about you. Did you know Tony had an emergency protocol built in so that if there’s anything that went wrong while you were alone, FRIDAY would update him?”, Rhodey replied nonchalantly.

You widened your eyes and immediately teared up on hearing how protective your dad was over you. You were too tired to fight back so you just shut your eyes and wrapped your arms around your body tighter.

“FRIDAY, give me a proper run down of the kid’s activities and schedule in this past month. Including their health”, Rhodey asked the AI while observing you closely.

“OK sir. In this month, they have stepped out of the house only once for buying groceries. The rest of the month they’ve been at home, fixing Mr Stark’s suits”, FRIDAY finished.

At this, Rhodey’s eyes widened. “Tony’s suits? How did you even get these suits?” “They sneaked in the suits 2 months ago, Sir”, Rhodey’s eyes snapped back to yours. 2 months ago- right after you moved in. The suits were at the new compound and they were heavily guarded.

They should’ve known better because did they really expect you, a genius like your father, to not figure out how to hack the systems? It was a cakewalk for you.

You scrunched your eyes in shame and bowed your head. “Kid….”, he sighed.

“Tell me about their health, FRI”, Rhodey asked in a pained voice.

“They’ve had panic attacks almost every week. I suggested taking medication or visiting the therapist, but my requests were ignored. I’ve also observed a spike in their heartbeat everytime a loud noise is heard. They have nightmares regularly due to which they have stopped sleeping altogether. All the stress has made them lose weight, their appetite has lessened and has made them more irritable and unpredictable”, FRIDAY finished (snitched, you think).

Hearing it from someone else made it sound so much worse. You couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down your face.

You were too busy keeping the sobs from coming out of your mouth to notice Rhodey coming closer and wrapping his arms around you. He brought you closer and hugged you tightly and that completely broke you.

You leaned your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso and just sobbed. Rhodey hushed you gently and rubbed your back softly with one of his hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t deal with this, Uncle. Please. I need him back”, you said in between sobs while clutching him tightly and pressing your face into his chest. Rhodey teared up at this and put one of his hands behind your head.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out. I’m so sorry I didn’t visit you sooner. I know what you’re feeling. But I’ve got you now. Please allow me to help you?”, he said weakly.

You let out a shuddering breath and tried to calm yourself down. “Okay. ”, you replied in a weak voice. Rhodey broke the hug before putting his hands on your shoulders and let you wipe your tears. He caressed your head and told you, “We’re gonna get you something to eat first. From tomorrow, we will work on your routine and talk to your therapist about your insomnia and panic attacks. And then, you will be taking lots of rest. No more tinkering on the suits endlessly or skipping meals. We will go on walks and you will have a dinner with us at the cabin soon. That okay?”, he asked gently. You looked up at him and nodded your head yes. “Good. Now, you sit your ass down and Rest. Let me prepare your dinner”, he says while moving around you to get to the stove. “Do you even know how to turn on the stove?”, you say in a stuffy voice while wiping your nose with your sleeve and side eyeing him. He abruptly pauses and turns around. “You’re such a little shit, you know that?”, he says sassily while pointing a finger at you. That brings out a genuine smile from you and you just chuckle before he starts laughing as well. Your smile fades slowly. “Thank you. This means a lot to me,” you reply softly. Both of your eyes start tearing up and he just nods his head before giving you a side hug. “Anything for my favourite Stark”, he says in a shaky voice.

2 Months Later

You and Rhodey fell into a rhythm after that night. He stayed with you for some days and got you checked with your therapist and helped you around the house. He took you out for jogs every morning, made you work out and exercise every day. This made you feel productive and gave you a routine to follow. It also improved your appetite and you started to genuinely enjoy making healthy and filling meals.

You stopped unnecessarily tinkering on the suits and the medicines prescribed by your doctor helped you sleep better. You still had a long way to go but you had finally started stepping out of the house and went to a dinner at the cabin. Happy, Pepper and Morgan were so delighted to see you and they told you how proud they are of you. You just gave all the credit to your uncle Rhodey.

Rhodey had become a major figure in your life lately. He’d always been there for you and your dad but now he was like a teacher and mentor to you. All thanks to him, you could get your life back on track. And he was happy to help you anyways because you were like his own child.

But he’d started to take you to various social events lately and you HATED that. You were always a shy and socially anxious kid (a complete opposite of your father.) So the thought of attending social events where so many people and cameras were present…that was enough to send you into an early grave.

“Rhodey….for the last time. I’m not going with you. What am I even gonna do there? Sit and yawn while all you military and political people make speeches? No thanks”, you said breathlessly and jogged a little ahead of him.

He joined you immediately, huffing and puffing, “First of all.” Huff. “Slow DOWN. Jesus Christ.” Huff. And he stopped while putting his hands on his knees.

“Keep up, lazy! We gotta keep THE War Machine kicking and alive, come on!”, you say while jogging backwards and smiling at him.

When you saw that he was not going to join you, you stopped and jogged over to him. “Lazy, my ass. I’m 60 years old, you little shit”, he said while looking up at you, eyes narrowed and hands still on his knees. Still huffing and puffing.

You chuckled and helped him stand up with your arm around his back and another arm holding his. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You wanna sit down? Might as well drink some water, I’m thirsty.”

He nods his head yes and both of you sit down on a nearby bench and take a breather. You’re quiet for sometime, soaking in the crisp morning air and looking at the water fountain in front of you when Rhodey speaks up.

“I know you hate these events. But, please come to this one. We have a reunion in order, anyways”, he says cheekily while looking at you with that big smile of his plastered on his face.

You turned your head to look at him and raised your eyebrow, “Reunion? With whom?”, you ask skeptically. “Please don’t say Steve Rogers, Rhodey. I swear to god, I will never step foot in this city again”, you say, irritated.

He scoffed, “Nah, don’t worry. That’s never happening. It’s Sam. He’s been telling me that he wants to meet you.”

You observed his face for a second to see if he was being serious. “Sam? Sam Wilson? Why would he want to meet me?”, you asked, confused. Ever since the Sokovia Accords were brought into existence and ever since you sided with your father, Steve and the others didn’t want anything to do with your family. But you didn’t have anything against any of them— well, except for Steve. That was personal.

Even back then, you told your dad that you thought Bucky was innocent and that you want him to forgive Bucky somehow. You never met your grandparents so their accident/murder didn’t affect you. And you especially didn’t give a fuck about your deadbeat grandfather who would abuse your dad, but you felt your dad’s anger was justified as he loved his mom. You didn’t have an issue with Sam either. Not even when Rhodey met with that fatal accident that made him lose his legs. You saw the footage, and Rhodey told you as well, that Sam simply dodged. He didn’t cause the fall, nor did he injure him on purpose. The fall happened because his suit malfunctioned. But since Steve was the glue that was holding them together, they avoided talking to you at all. They were simply being loyal. And we all know how Steve Rogers thanked their loyalty in the end.

You would never forgive him for breaking your dysfunctional-found-family apart by being a selfish asshole and by abandoning your dad when he needed his support the most.

Rhodey shrugged. “Dunno. But he was looking forward to meeting you. He’s the kindest man I know, kid. And I know you don’t hold a grudge against him either. Please, come with me. I promise we will go get some ice cream later”, he said earnestly and smiled.

You let out a deep sigh. “Chocolate chips. Double scoop”, you said and lifted your water bottle to drink to avoid looking at his smug expression.

“Oh, you shall get anything you ask for, your highness”, he said while extravagantly bowing at you.

You just smirked and got back up to jog.

The constant clicking of the cameras was quickly causing a throbbing ache to appear behind your eyes. You were dressed in your formal clothes, presentable as always, and entered the museum arm-in-arm with Rhodey.

After giving a thousand repetitive interviews, half of which Rhodey denied on your behalf, you finally saw the man in question—Sam Wilson. Captain America.

Honestly, you were so proud of and excited for him to take up the mantle. It wasn’t a shock that Steve handed over that shield to Sam. He deserved it.

He saw the two of you and came over to talk. As he came closer, you saw just how shocked he was to see you there.

“Whats up, man? How are you?”, Sam said while shaking hands with Rhodey and bringing him in for a hug, all the while flashing his lovely, tooth-gaped smile.

Rhodey patted his back and broke away from the hug. “The usual. I got a surprise for you”, Rhodey said while putting an arm around your shoulder.

Sam, still surprised, flashed another one of his smiles at you.

“I just can’t believe you’re here. I hope you know how grateful I am”, he said earnestly while putting his hand out to shake yours.

You looked at his hand and shook it. “I’m surprised you wanted to meet me”, you say while smirking at him.

His smile faded after hearing that and he looked at you with a solemn expression.

“Yeah. I’m sorry it took me so long. I-” “Mr. Wilson, it’s your turn to speak.” Sam looked back at the woman and nodded his head at her.

“Uh…I’ll catch up with you after all this is done. Please wait until then?”, Sam turned around and asked you, nervously.

Rhodey looked at you to decipher your reaction. “Okay. I’ll wait. But not for long and not in front of these cameras”, you say coolly.

Sam smiles at you and Rhodey before approaching the stage.

“See? That wasn’t so bad”, Rhodey says while leading you to sit at the front row.

“We’ll see about that— not the front row, Rhodes... It’s like you want me to run away”, you groaned while slowing your pace.

Rhodey just laughs and pats your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll be next to you the whole time. You can even crush my hand if you want to.”

You and Rhodey sat down and watched Sam approach the stage.

Sam looked sharp in his well-fitted suit but something about his expression screamed anxiety.

He began his speech.

“Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically”, everyone chuckled at that. You scoffed.

“The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols...are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning. And this thing...”, he chuckles before picking up the shield and continuing.

“I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol. But it's more about the man who propped it up, and he's gone. So, today we honor Steve's legacy. But also, we look to the future. So, thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you”, Sam concluded and handed over the shield to the museum security who then put encased it in a glass case. The camera flashes went off.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You knew something was wrong the moment Sam stepped up on the stage. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

You furrowed your eyebrows and turned your head to look at Rhodey.

“Why did he give up the shield?”, you asked confused.

Rhodey solemnly smiled.

“Maybe try talking to Sam about this?”, he explained to you, gently.

You nodded your head in understanding.

Rhodey went over to talk to Sam while you checked out the other exhibits to give them a little privacy.

You ended up looking at Bucky’s exhibit.

They were displaying those clips of him in the 40s, smiling and free of all the pain, and they made your heart clench in sadness and guilt. He deserved better.

“Still can’t believe bionic staring machine was a heartbreaker back then”, you heard Sam’s voice behind you.

You looked at him and smirked.

“As if he’s not a heartbreaker anymore. Those baby blue’s? Could break a grandma’s heart too, which is funny because he would still be older than her”, you joked and looked back at the display.

Sam stood to your right with his hands in his pockets. He laughed at your joke and looked up at the TV displaying Steve and Bucky together.

He let out a sigh and brought his lips together in a thin line.

You looked over to him and studied his profile observed the way he carried tension in his shoulders.

“Penny for your thoughts?”, you asked him gently.

He shut his eyes and looked down, letting out another deep sigh.

“Kid…I’m sorry”, he said, his voice heavy with guilt.

You furrowed your brows.

“For what?”, you asked, genuinely confused.

Sam finally looked up at you with teary eyes. His brows scrunched together.

“Everything. The accords…Rhodey’s acci- injuries. For-for not making an attempt to maintain contact with you, for-”

“Hey. Don’t. I’m not angry about any of that. I never was. And I will never hold a grudge against anyone that wasn’t on my da- on our side”, you cut him off and explained to him firmly. “And if Rhodey isn’t upset about his accident, then who am I to question it? I know you didn’t dodge. It was an accident. I saw the footage way back then, Sam”, you laid your hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

He was overcome with emotion. He deflated as if years’ worth of weight on his shoulders had been lifted off of him. He simply nodded his head.

“If anything, I’m sorry. For everything you had to go through. I hope you’re doing better, now”, you continued.

Sam gave you a half smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. Helpin’ out my sister with the house and my nephews.”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised. You didn’t know he had a sister or nephews.

Sam chuckled. “Yeah…I got a younger sister and 2 nephews— AJ and Cass.”

You smiled. “I had no idea. I’m glad you guys can live together again”, you replied sincerely.

“Thank you, kid. I had no idea you’re so….nice”, he smirked.

You let out a loud laugh. Contrary to popular belief and rumours, you were a good and polite kid. Your dad, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy made sure of that. It was always funny to find out how people would judge you on the basis of your last name. But, it could also be because of your resting bitch face.

Both of you quieted down and looked at the display once again, when you decided to finally bring it up.

“Sam, why’d you give up the shield?”, you asked curiously.

He pursed his lips.

“That shield is heavy. And I don’t know if this country is ready to see a man like me bear the weight of it. No matter how many times everyone keeps telling me that it was Steve’s choice, they don’t know the consequences of me being Captain America until they wear my shoes. Steve didn’t know it either because at the end of the day, our skin colour doesn’t match and that isn’t suitable for the shield”, he replied heavily.

It felt like someone had put cold water on top of you, his words cutting straight through your ignorance. The pressure that Sam was undergoing would never be understood by anyone who didn’t look like him. That’s why Rhodey was so understanding of his decision.

You straightened up.

“Oh. Sam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”, you paused to gather your thoughts and word them carefully. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I should’ve known better. I understand. And I respect your decision”, you replied, genuine understanding dripping from your words.

Sam looked at you, surprised. He wasn’t expecting you to understand his situation.

“That’s- it’s..alright kid. Thank you for understanding me. It means a lot”, he replied sincerely and patted your shoulder.

You were about to take his leave when he spoke up.

“Listen, I got a proposal for you.”

You quirked an eyebrow.

“Just…hear me out, okay? Rhodey told me to keep an eye out for you whenever he’s busy. Says you do well with discipline in your routine. If you don’t mind, you could join me and help me out with the tech stuff, you know?”, he said hesitantly.

You were about to deny his offer when he put his hands out in a placating gesture.

“I know, it’s been a long time. You’re not interested in this stuff anymore. But I could use some extra hands and who better than a Stark to help out with technology, right? And, who knows, maybe you’ll make a friend”, he tried to convince you.

“A friend? You think I’m some loner or what, Wilson? (You kind of were, a loner, but we will ignore that.) And just who is this friend?”, you asked him with narrowed eyes.

“He’s my new team member. A tech savvy nerd, like you. You’ll get along, trust me. Except I’ll warn you, that boy yaps a Lot”, Sam replied while chuckling.

That sounded way too familiar to you. You immediately froze and just stared at Sam, lost in thought. All those unwanted and painful memories were coming back to you.

Sam put his hand on your shoulder and you snapped out of your stupor.

“You don’t have to answer me immediately. Take your time, the offer is always open for you. Okay?”, he asked hopefully, ever the optimistic counselor.

You let out a big sigh.

“I don’t know. I’ll see”, you murmured. You could feel that uneasy feeling creep up your veins that told you to shut down, keep everyone away and to run somewhere far away where you could be isolated in peace.

You were finally feeling comfortable in your little bubble that consisted of you, Rhodey, Pepper, Happy and Morgan. Now you had to go out and make yourself accommodating and welcoming again. You had to repeat everything and start from scratch. It was a lot. You were not ready for that.

Healing is never linear, you knew that. But you were doing so well for the past two months. You clenched your fists and begged your mind to keep it together. You were pretty good at masking it.

Sam just nodded his head and patted your arm.

“Come on, I’ll walk you and Rhodey off.”

You both returned to Rhodey and said your goodbyes.

“See ya, old man. Take care of yo’self, alright?”, Sam said while hugging Rhodey.

“You too, Wilson”, Rhodey said before breaking the hug and patting Sam’s back.

“I’m proud of you, Sam. Never forget that”, Rhodey said gently.

Sam just smiled weakly and patted Rhodey’s shoulder before turning to look at you.

You looked at him and gave him a barely there smile before surprising him with a hug. You don’t know what came over you but you just wanted him to know that you appreciated his support and the conversation that you two had back there. Your words failed you, so you did the next best thing you knew– a hug.

He looked at Rhodey over your shoulder and patted your back like an older brother.

“Take care, kid. Think about what I said”, he said after breaking off the hug.

You simply nodded your head yes.

“And both of you are invited to the family cookout, alright? Rhodes, make sure you bring them with you. Sarah makes a mean cornbread”, Sam says while pointing at you.

Rhodey chuckles and you grin before departing.

You sat in the car and looked out of the window, deep in thought. You were processing your conversation with Sam and debating whether you should join him, or not. You couldn’t help but keep thinking about this friend that he mentioned and how he reminded you too much of-

“Whatcha thinkin’?”, Rhodey asked lightly, as if to not startle you.

You glanced back at him and turned your attention to the front of the car. You sighed softly.

“Had a good chat with Sam. We apologised to each other and sorted out our misconceptions.”

“That’s good, right?”, Rhodey asked and tilted his head to look at you.

You nodded. “Yeah. It was really nice to clear all of that up. He’s so…lovely to talk to. We also talked about his decision to give up the shield. I felt so stupid when he explained it to me. How could I not understand that beforehand?”, you said while clenching your jaw, feeling guilty for judging his decision.

Rhodey gave you a soft smile.

“Atleast you’re self-aware, sweetheart”, he said lightly.

You finally gave him a smile.

“Yeah. He also gave me an offer. To join him”, you said hesitantly.

Rhodey smirked knowingly. Sam had already discussed this with him.

“And? What’re you thinking?”, Rhodey asked nonchalantly so as to not freak you out.

You let out a deep breath.

“I don’t know. I’ll think over it”, you replied with finality in your tone.

Rhodey felt the walls build up again so he backed off instead of pestering you to talk more.

“That’s okay. You can take all the time you want, kid. There’s no rush”, Rhodey said sincerely.

You looked at him and squeezed his hand.

“Shall we go get that ice-cream now, your highness?”, Rhodey joked.

You finally let out a chuckle and nodded your head yes before turning your attention back towards the window. You let out a sigh.

You were not going to get any sleep tonight.

Part 2

—————————————————————————

AN: Whew. This was so LONG, I’m so sorry. 😭🙏 but I just couldn’t stop writing because I love me a stark!reader as that’s literally me but also I needed some found family content + closure between the stark family and the cap fam, too. Which is why I had to break it in 2 parts. Our lovebirds will meet in the 2nd part. Keep guessing the references and this mystery person until then.😛 thank you for reading!

[thekinslayed]

A Night for Celebration

summary | Gwayne is gifted a special treat by his nephew after the victory at Rook's Rest.

pairing | gwayne hightower x brothel worker!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! oral (m), oral (f), 69, unprotected sex, aegon cameo, thoughts of incest oop, canon divergence, face sitting

wordcount | 2.5k

note | as promised :) this took too long to finish lol but we're finally powering thru the writer's block thank yewww god

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

(divider by @starzyyy1)

The streets of Flea Bottom were always a ruckus, busied by street performers, lewd acts around the corner, and the shadows that held its darkest secrets. Tonight, a company of shining knights made their way down the streets. The sight of them would be enough to instill fear and caution within the smallfolk, but this is not that kind of night. They were merry, inebriated by the high of their recent victory in battle and some strong ale. Among them, the king stood out like a bright star among mortals. 

Though slick with grease and sweat, his silver hair held a stark contrast among the rest, incomparable to even the light blonde tresses of Martin Reyne. The king was in a swell mood, evident by the raucous laughter that echoed through the city's alleyways. This is where he felt best, away from the curious eyes of the court and the brooding, disapproving bunch he called a family. Though he wouldn’t say they were all bland, his uncle Gwayne was the only one with a similar interest. The man knew how to have fun. Aegon liked that.

His mother’s brother was all eager to join in their little night out, desperate to have a night of reprieve after a grueling journey, and an even more brutal battle. He finally had one night away from Criston fucking Cole, who stayed behind of course. All the better for Gwayne.

Aegon led them down the familiar path to the Streets of Silk. The giddying excitement for some women was palpable within the group, who were growing drunker and drunker as they stopped at different taverns. They reached his favored brothel, which was ordered to be emptied for the night. An evening of bliss was the king’s reward for his knights' valiant efforts on the field, at the pleasure of the crown.

They were greeted by a gaggle of whores, all lined up in anticipation as they awaited the men’s arrival. Some were already bare, skin glistening with oil, while others wore different kinds of sheer gowns, if one could even call it that. 

“Here we are, gentlemen. The best part of the night,” the king exclaimed, earning all kinds of hollers and cheers from his men. He was walking quite wobbly now, the edges of his speech slurring. Among the girls, Madame Sylvi emerged, greeting the king with a bow and a respectful smile.

“My king, welcome. It is an honor to be of service during such a great night. I thank you for your continued patronage,” she said. With a sweep of his purple hues down her body, a giggle bubbled from Aegon’s throat, earning a raise of the brow from the madame.

“Ah, Sylvi. You are the best in these streets. ‘Tis really no surprise why even the sharpest of men come crawling back into your embrace, hm?” Aegon quipped, laughing at his own jest. The older woman merely responded with a small nod, biting back her tongue. She held out an arm, presenting her girls to the men’s hungry eyes.

“They are all yours for the night, your grace.”

With a delighted hum, the king stepped forward, assessing each one of them with a devouring gaze. He ran a hand down their figures, testing the softness of their supple flesh against his palm. Some he tweaked their nipples, cupped their mounds to find the best-feeling cunny. He had even pulled one for a kiss, letting out a low moan at the taste of sweet cherry oil swiped across her lips. Pleased, Aegon nodded in approval.

“I will let my brave knights take their pick before me,” he said. “After all, one whore is as good as another.” 

With his statement, the ravenous knights stepped forward, taking their pick of the litter before being dragged off to their corner of the brothel. Gwayne had his eyes on a plump, olive-skinned brunette, Dornish, presumably, but he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Aegon cocked his head towards the madame, who led them down a hall lined by actual rooms, instead of the sheer curtains in the common hall. She stopped at the last door of the hallway, opening it to reveal more awaiting women.

“As you requested, your grace.”

There were only a handful of them, though Gwayne knew they were more… special. His suspicions were confirmed by the pleased look on his nephew’s face, who led him further into the room.

“I thought you deserved something finer, uncle, after your valiant efforts of withstanding months of tolerating Cole on the road. Take it as a treat from me,” Aegon explained. A twin swell of excitement rose in the men’s chests at the women, who looked at them with sensual, siren-like gazes. “Madam’s best performers. There are fresh maidens too if you wish!”

Like what he did in the common hall, Aegon assessed each one with Gwayne by his side. For a moment, the redhead found none particularly appealing, thinking of returning to the dark-haired beauty with kohl-lined eyes, but then he saw you.

The younger followed his uncle’s line of sight, before calling your name with a wave of his ringed hand. You were in a powder blue robe, embroidered with flowers of gold thread. A waft of the scent of roses invaded Gwayne’s senses as you approached, bringing about a tingle in his fingertips. You greeted the men with a curtsy, flashing a small smile. 

Aegon seemed to be approving of his uncle’s choice. “She is one of the best, take it from me. Though I was rather unsure whether you would like her, considering she quite looks like—”

“No, no. She’s perfect,” Gwayne said, waving a hand dismissively while icy blues stayed on you. 

Red hair, brown eyes. Just how he liked them.

With a smile, you took hold of the knight’s hand, leading him out into the hall. Aegon went off with a silver-haired one, an obvious dragonseed. Copper Penny, they called her. 

The private rooms were kept fairly simple, with a wide feather mattress and numerous melting candles lining the space. The lewd murals continued into these walls as well, and in the middle of it all, you.

“It is a pleasure to serve you tonight, my lord,” you said, turning swiftly to face the nobleman. He blinked, previously occupied with staring at the swell of your ass as it swayed with your every step. The apples of his freckled cheeks rose as you smiled at him coquettishly, batting your pretty lashes at him. 

“Do you know who I am, girl?” Gwayne figured to ask, earning a nod from you as you poured a cup of red. He accepted it with a gracious nod, brushing calloused fingertips against your softer ones.

“You are Queen Alicent’s brother. Everyone here knows who you are. In fact, your name has been uttered one too many times ever since the smallfolk have caught a glimpse of you,” you told him, to which Gwayne responded with a curious raise of the brow. Your berry-stained lips widened as you chuckled, “Your arrival has caused quite a ruckus. People have been quite taken by another Hightower passing through our streets, especially one who has fought quite bravely in battle.”

The knight’s spine stood taller in pride at your words, ego successfully stroked. Such skills were well-taught in the secrets of your trade, and you managed to already please him before even disrobing. “And what do you think, girl? Have I managed to stun you?” he asked, vigilantly watching as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I think you are prettier than your sister.” 

Gwayne smirked, a satisfied hum his only response. He downed the rest of his wine in one gulp, evidently eager to make the most of your services. “Was there anything you preferred, my lord?” you asked, equally as keen to spend your evening with such a handsome man. You have pleasured many noble and common men alike, even the king at one point, but only a small few have managed to stir a bubbling excitement in your belly. Gwayne was one of the exceptions, with his prissy noble blood, quick wits, and a smirk that could make anyone’s knees buckle. He was silent for a moment, assessing you with his icy blues. You seemed to preen under his gaze, chest subtly puffing out as he stared at them.

“Undress,” the knight ordered with a flick of his wrist.

You obliged, pulling the clasp on the belt that held your robe together. The sheer fabric fell off your shoulders in a graceful swoop, baring all to the man before you. Your nipples stood erect in their exposing, while a patch of darker red decorated the apex of your thighs. The act of your baring alone had Gwayne already palming the hardening length in his trousers, eager fingers unlacing his breeches to free his cock. Your orbs stared at it unabashedly as he stroked himself, prompting a one-sided, roguish smirk to rise on the Hightower’s lips.

He wasn’t the biggest, nor the thickest, but gods, was it pretty, just like the rest of him. It was nicely flushed at the tip, with a protruding vein running its underside. The base was littered with hairs of a lighter amber, almost translucent under the warm glow of the room. Without his order, you willingly dropped to your knees, replacing his hand with your own. An experimental lick on his cockhead had him sighing, followed by a hearty groan when your lips wrapped around his tip. Your expertise was evident in how you took him with no trouble, not one gag with every inch your lips had covered. You nuzzled your nose into the base of his cock, tickled by the curled strands at his pubic bone. 

Gwayne’s hand merely rested on your occiput, finding no need to guide your pace. He simply threw his head back, relishing in the simple heaven brought about by your mouth. The way you were suckling on his tip, tongue circling the head made his stomach tighten. He was being propelled to his end way too soon for his liking, he had much he wanted to do with you. 

Despite his better wishes, he pulled himself away from your mouth. You made your way to lay on the feather mattress by his order, awaiting what he wanted next. For a second too long, Gwayne merely stared down at you and the delectable morsel that awaited him. He was no stranger to whores, though Oldtown’s spare brothels did not house beauty like yours. His hand descended from your collarbone, running through the valley of your breasts. Your mounds were deliciously supple beneath his roughened palm, nipples pert in attention. His touch trailed along the curve of your waist, before cupping your mound. Slick glistened in between his fingers when he pulled them away, ambrosial on his tongue when he dared a taste. 

Wet like a maiden. Delectable like the finest sweets.

The knight knew the regret that would follow if he denied himself a taste. With no further hesitation, he laid his head above the soft, feather mattress, meeting your puzzled gaze. “Ride my face,” he breathed out, urging you on with a hand on your waist. Your surprise blinks made known this was no common request, but the eager glint in your eye proved you had little complaint. Your thighs found their place in between his head, your dripping cunt in perfect view. 

You shifted your weight to sit, and Gwayne was granted a taste. How sweet you were, irresistibly so. He found himself lapping at you like a man starved, as though your cunny held the water that shall fill him with life. His hands held your thighs tight, dimpling the ample flesh in his calloused touch. Above him, you shifted about, grinding your hips back and forth against his face. You seemed to enjoy this, with your mewls and whines. 

“M-my lord…” you moaned, throwing your head back in delight.

“No, my name,” Gwayne panted. It was only then he realized how breathless he had grown to be, mind hazed by the sweet heat of your cunny. “Say my name.”

“Gwayne… feels heavenly,” you whimpered. 

With a lift of your hips, you switched your position to face the span of the room. The man below you had voiced his confusion, but the familiar warmth of your mouth back on his cock had his eyes rolling back. Your plump arse was a pair of warm cushions over his face, and his large palms had spread them wide to reach his tongue deeper into your cunt. The grinding on his face was in rhythm with the bobbing of your head down his length, driving him positively mad. The scriptures’ idea of the heavens may be paradise to any mortal man, but it would not hold the same bliss he was swimming in now. 

You had broken first. Warm, pearly spend gushed out of your slit and directly onto his tongue. You had moaned around his length, before pulling out to lean your head against his thigh with a cry. Erratic hips spasmed above Gwayne, and he thought it a shame he was not spared the sight of your face as you met your end. It was no matter, he had more than enough time with you tonight. You were shifted to lay on your stomach, rutting into you from behind. Your red tresses were soft in his hold, thick hair gathered into his palm. It was an interesting sight, with you like this it almost was like…

No. He couldn’t think that way.

He flipped you over onto your back instead, amber waves framing your face like a pile of autumn leaves on the forest floor. The knight was quick to slip into your walls, giving you barely a second of reprieve before setting an animalistic pace from the start. A chorus of ‘ah, ah, ah’s echoed off the room’s thin walls, coupled with the wet sound of skin slapping against skin. There was no doubt the Hightower lord had had his time tumbling in the sheets, reducing a seasoned whore like you moaning like a fresh maiden beneath him. His ego swelled tremendously at the thought. Your cunt was one of the best he’s ever had, and the sight of your scrunched face dangling over the edge of the bed as you came again was an image he was sure to envision when he’s back in Oldtown, fisting his cock under his sheets in the dead of night. 

He was close. Gwayne was sure this release would wash him over like the monstrous waves over the Bay during a storm, the kind that made your abdomen cramp from its sheer intensity. With a sure thrust, then another, the knight pulled his cock to stroke it furiously. His seed was spurted in multiple sprays, landing as far as your chin with the pearly spend.

The redhead plopped down beside you, mind lost in the heady daze of the aftermath. You both stared at the mural overhead, some kind of depiction of a man’s tongue buried into a woman’s arse. Huh. Perhaps he could try that with you next time.

He could feel himself sink further into the plush mattress, the exhaustion of their excursion creeping up into the tendrils of his meat. Breathless, he turned to you, noting how you were equally boneless as he.

“How would you like to come to Oldtown?”

[mrspiastri]

✩ mehendi lagake rakhna 🪷

pairing: oscar piastri x desi!reader

cw: pure fluff, slightly suggestive at parts but nothing tooo crazy lol

wc: 1.8k words

an: my first fic :D

“Oscar, don’t tell me you haven’t practiced your steps! The sangeet is tonight!” Y/N’s cousins were simply frustrated with her dear boyfriend, who could not seem to dance to save his life and had also forgotten to practice the night before.

“I didn’t think it’d be so difficult! These steps are way too hard,” he protested, looking around for his girlfriend, who was seated among some ladies while she got her mehendi done. Apparently, being a bridesmaid at her cousin’s wedding included entertaining the many aunties and listening in on all their gossip

“Baby, are you aware of how mean your cousins are?” he huffed as he sat next to her.

“I told you to practice last night, but someone was too busy sampling the different kulfi flavors at the buffet.”

The man made a sound of indignation, then looked at Y/N’s palms, which were being adorned with a beautiful design.

“How does it look? Nice, na?” she asked while admiring her own hands.

Oscar agreed with a nod and a soft smile. She turned to look at him.

“Speaking of which, I’ve got a game for you! Your name’s written on my palm—it’s designed into my mehendi! You need to find it!” She giggled, and even the artist smiled at him.

“Really? Well, it should be rather easy. My name’s not very long.”

She winked at him. “That’s what you think. Just you wait!”

“He has another thing to worry about, Y/N!” her mum called out, coming to place her palm on Oscar’s back. They both laughed, with Y/N letting out a “Amma, don’t tease him!”

“Why do I need to worry about that?” he asked as the women laughed.

“Well, there’s this old saying: the darker a woman’s mehendi comes out, the more her husband loves her, so you better hope it’s dark, or else…” Y/N threatened him as her mother quietly laughed.

“But we aren’t married, darling. How’s that fair?”

Hearing this, her mother let out a huff. “You two are basically married. The specifics don’t matter.”

He let out a groan of faux annoyance. “You find the most wonderful ways to get me in trouble, don’t you?” He rolled his eyes while peering into her mehendi, trying to spot his name before she elbowed him away.

“You can only find it after it’s dried. Now go and practice your steps—you’re in the first line with me during Kajra Re.”

“What’s that now?”

“Just go and practice, you idiot.” She laughed at him as he ran away, fearing how much he would be yelled at for being a bad dancer.

🪷🪷🪷

“There we go, nice and easy. Now let’s get the next one.”

Y/N’s brother had been at work moving up and down the venue, helping out with small jobs like moving tables, carrying in suitcases, and asking the guests if they had eaten or not. Somehow, he managed to rope Oscar into helping, and help he did, eager to get away from the evil dancing bridesmaids.

After many attempts at trying to move a table, her brother said, “Mate, you need to help me lift this. It won’t budge.”

But before Oscar could do anything, he heard Y/N’s voice calling out to him from across the open ground where the mehendi function was happening.

“You better go. She doesn’t like to wait,” her brother said, chuckling.

“Don’t I know it? Coming, babe!”

“There you are. Look, I need your help. The bride’s uncle and his family are coming in from the airport. She sent someone to pick them up, and I need to call them and check if they’re on their way.”

“Okay, so do it,” he said, looking at her quizzically.

She rolled her eyes. “Osc, I’ve got to let the mehendi dry—I can’t really touch anything. Be a darling and reach into my pocket and take it out for me, please.”

She turned her hip slightly to the side, to where her pocket was, her hands in the air, carefully held up to make sure she didn’t smudge her henna.

“Yeah, of course,” he said as he reached around her waist, reaching for her phone.

It was only then he realized just how close she was standing to him. Her beige lehenga and blouse, showing off her midriff, with her hair cascading beautifully down her shoulders. She smelled heavenly, like she always did, with hints of vanilla and cocoa butter.

He then made the mistake of looking down at her, his face tinted with a shade of pink similar to hers. Y/N’s eyes were focused on him, and in that moment, it dawned on her that she hadn’t really noticed how handsome Oscar looked that day. Wearing a simple cream kurta with his sleeves rolled up and his token slightly messy hair, he looked effortlessly perfect.

It took a lot of self-control for her not to kiss him in that moment. They stared at each other for a while, neither moving, until eventually the sound of someone calling out his name was heard.

“Oscar! Need you to help with the tables, mate.”

Her brother, as usual, coming in clutch to be the cockblocker.

Y/N grit her teeth in annoyance, and Oscar finally remembered he had to take her phone out. He fumbled with it for a second before dialing and dealing with the contact she asked him to.

He held the phone to her ear till she finished speaking, and then put the phone back in her pocket.

“Thanks, babe. Now run along before someone else yells out for you.”

🪷🪷🪷

It’s the evening of the sangeet, and Oscar’s long hours of practice (read: 1 hour and 13 minutes) were finally going to be tested.

The guests were all seated, and Oscar felt a pang of nervousness, similar to the kind he felt waiting for the lights to go out at a Grand Prix. Y/N felt his anxiety and reached for his hand, gently squeezing it to alleviate his stress. He smiled and squeezed it back, and before he knew it, the opening tunes to the song Ainvayi Ainvayi began to play.

He managed to remember the steps, almost missing one before he got back on track. They danced to a few more songs before coming to the final one—and the most important—Kajra Re.

The two of them were placed front and center, with everyone able to see them. He saw her parents and grandparents in the crowd, along with her cousins, who whistled as they took their places on the stage.

The nervousness seeped in again, with the worry of having to impress her family. But Y/N leaned in, whispering to him, “You’re going to kill it, hon. Trust me.”

“What if I don’t?” he whispered back.

“Well, then I’ll mess my steps too. Then we can look dumb together.”

“That’s difficult to believe—you’re a good dancer,” he quipped.

“Leave it to me. I’ll fumble so bad we’ll have to hide out in our hotel room.”

They laughed, just as the music started. And believe it or not, Oscar killed it.

It turned out Y/N’s relatives were so excited to see the Australian dance to the Bollywood songs that they didn’t seem to mind if he messed up a few steps. They hooted and cheered, with their volume increasing at the final step, where Oscar pulled Y/N toward him and dipped her back dramatically.

The audience thoroughly enjoyed the performance, but for Oscar, everything else was drowned out. The only thing he focused on was his girlfriend, looking up at him with admiration and all the love she could conjure in a single look.

She mouthed, “Told you!” a triumphant smile on her face. He laughed, unable to argue with her words.

🪷🪷🪷

“That was some performance, you two!” Y/N’s dad complimented the couple as they ate—or rather, as Y/N ate while Oscar fed her.

It turns out being a bridesmaid doesn’t just mean you get to take cute photos and plan a bachelorette party; it also means you have a lot of work to do to make the bride’s life easier. She’d been running around post-performance, and Oscar had finally managed to catch a hold of her and sit her down.

“You’ve gotta eat something. The last thing you ate was a tea sandwich at 5:30,” he said firmly.

“I’m too busy to eat, Osc. I’ve got a lot of phone calls to make to the vendors for tomorrow’s haldi ceremony,” she mumbled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help out with it. For now, just sit down and let me get some food into your body,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

And that’s how they got here, with him feeding her a spoonful of biryani as she leaned back in her chair.

“Well, thankfully I had a good group of teachers,” Oscar said, motioning toward the other bridesmaids, who laughed at his compliment.

“Y/N, why are you forcing the poor boy to feed you?” her father asked, using the affectionate tone he always used for his daughter.

“I’m too tired to eat, Appa. He’s forcing me to,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the rice still in her mouth.

“Well, at least we know you’re in good hands. Isn’t she?” her father said, nudging his wife.

“Oh yes, the very best. You’ve got your work cut out for you, kanna,” her mother added, making the entire table laugh.

Oscar leaned in and whispered into Y/N’s ear, “What did she call me now?”

Y/N smiled and replied, “She called you kanna. It’s like a term of endearment. She doesn’t even use it for my brother, so you should feel special.”

Oscar’s face lit up at the explanation, glad to feel so accepted and welcomed by her family. He grinned at her and fed her another spoonful of rice.

🪷🪷🪷

“By the way, I found my name,” Oscar said suddenly, making Y/N look up at him in confusion, only to notice him staring at her palms.

“Did you now? Where is it, then?” she challenged, her brow raised playfully.

He pointed to her left hand’s ring finger, where a small but clearly visible “Oscar” was designed into her mehendi.

“You’re good at this,” she said, impressed. “I asked her to make it super hard to find.”

They both laughed, and then he added, “I’ve got something for you to see, although mine isn’t as difficult to spot.”

He pulled out his palm and faced it upward, revealing the mehendi he had secretly gotten done. The design was simple but heartfelt. On his palm, Y/N’s name was written boldly and clearly, surrounded by small hearts.

She gasped at the sight, catching the attention of the rest of the table. Realizing what the matter was, everyone cheered, thoroughly enjoying how enthusiastically Oscar was partaking in their culture.

“You’re so adorable. I can’t believe you got this done—I didn’t even notice!”

“Well, you’d be surprised at how sneaky I am, darling.”

“Is that so?” she teased, grinning.

“Why yes, yes it is. Now, how about we go get some kulfi? I’ve been craving it since last night.”

She laughed, standing up and taking his hand as they walked away from the table, their laughter echoing through the festive evening.

this was my first attempt at writing smth lol, lmk your thoughts, and if you’d like me to continue with this. xoxo 🩷 (also yes i made the reader tamilian in this bc i like to shamelessly self insert haha)

[lizpottersworld]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING (james potter x reader)

summary: even as ruin runs wild around the wizarding world, nothing can stop the love between you and james even if it be death do us part.

pairings: james potter x reader, wolfstar, dad!james potter, mum!reader.

warnings: death, Voldemort, unfortunate sad ending, angst with no comfort, no happy ending, crying children (help)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

to be loved by someone as loud and passionate as james potter was every girl’s wish. he always knew how to please, how to care and how to love. to be loved is to be seen and heard and he listened intently, observing every little thing you do. plus, when james potter is in love, boy does he fall hard. especially when it’s by someone as soft and sweet as you, a sweetheart who takes pride in him and gives him the affection he craves.

no doubt when everything around him is falling apart he clings to the one thing he can’t live without, which he would protect with his whole lifeline. when his friend group was falling apart, you arms was where he went. after his parents passed and he couldn’t hold himself together anymore, it was you he ran to.

it was the same goes the other way, if anything happened to you, minor or major he was where you spend those fearful nights and terrorising mornings. if home was a person, they were without a question at home when with each other.

even after a complicated beginning, where james had been whole heartedly chasing someone else, at the seeing of you he immediately changed his mind. as soon as you came into the view, you was all he thought about since.

your friends had called you hopeless, oblivious and caught up in your book ideals but nothing could stop the two of you. giggling and crying as you snuck into each other’s rooms at night, no spell being able to stop that. being intertwined to each other’s sides, glued forever without any care or discourse about it. stuck to your lover’s hip for all eternity? okay, didn’t want to be apart anyways.

even as the class of ‘78 graduated, you both hadn’t even thought about breaking up. in turn the two of you bought a flat in london near your other friends who were also rooming together as partners, remus and sirius who you both knittedly were close with from first year. no matter there petty arguments and disagreements, you and james could never say that ever was a problem with you two.

call them young or naive but even at 20, you already had your whole future planned out. a happy family in a house with white picketed fences, raising a new generation of potter’s. supportive parents who would grow old in the house that they lived they’re best life’s in, that would eventually pass together happily and peacefully.

at the raw age of 22, you had unexpectedly fell pregnant by accident but fatefully. soon after, you and james’ were engaged and as you neared nine months the two of you eloped. maybe everything was rushed, but why waste precious time! especially with the raging war happening with Voldemort. time truly was delicate in their case, with james being an auror for the order. praying most nights with your growing bump that he would make it home that night. thankfully, he always did.

then you gave birth to your first daughter, ivory potter, in the warmth and love of your cottage in scotland. many tears shed and sweat fallen, you and james happily welcomed your beautiful firstborn with open arms. ivory lived her first two years with loving parents and humorous uncles who spoiled her rotten.

you had then fell pregnant again, in times of scarce and fear as the war was spiralling and Voldemort had been closing in on the two of you. despite your lack of involvement in the death eaters, they still despised the idea of the prophecy child that had been told to you in divination during seventh year. no matter how much you two and james ignored it, the reality of it had been becoming more aware.

Dumbledore and the order moved you into a secret safe house temporarily as they tried to defeat voldermort. no inside or outer contact, just your little family trying to make the best of the situation. a year had passed since living in this house, you had given birth to your son, harry potter, who was now the youngest in the household. everything became unserious at the amount of time since nothing had happened, you weren’t always living on the edge. secretively having contact with some friends from Hogwarts.

perhaps thats how the word of your son had come out, the supposed prophecy child to have been born. you didn’t think it was possible that your friend’s could have told the death eaters about it, even now it felt like no one in that group even seemed the little bit guilty of it.

every day came pathetically repetitive, being closed off from the rest of the world. from family and from being able to actually see your friends in person who hadn’t even meet harry apart from photos. despite the alluring idea of sneaking to visit them all, nothing was worth the risk of your children. nothing amounted to that protection.

you and james were still blissfully in love, raising your beautiful children with gentleness and grace that you were sure carried throughout their ways. little angels who knew nothing but that.

it was the 31st of October 1981, and even though the kid’s couldn’t join in on the muggle trick or treating tradition like all the other’s in the neighbourhood they still dressed up. ivory dressed up as a young witch with a big grin and her homemade broom, harry dressed up as a golden snitch which was solely because of james’ contribution to costumes this year.

the sun had set and the kid’s were put to sleep in their respective rooms, leaving you and a breathless james dancing around the living room with wine glasses in hand, so obliviously unaware. wrapped up in the other in a unspoken adoration that carried the room.

there was a knock on the door and james went to the door expecting another trick or treater, leaving his wand that coordinated his costume on the sofa.

“oh hi pete!” he chirped, a grin on his face as he inspected the fear and something unfamiliar on his face that he couldn’t place. peter repeatedly mumbled apologies shaking his head as a green apparition happened behind him.

james smile fell instantly, yelling desperately to his wife, “y/n, he’s here, go upstairs and stay with the kids!” you dropped the wine glass passing a look with james as you ran up the stairs, wiping a tear with a nod as you hear him for the last time, “i love you, forever my love, keep them safe.” immediately you panicked running to grab ivory from her bed and bring her into the nursery of her brother’s as you soothed their cries and wiped their tears hearing their father groaning and shouting downstairs.

one final scream and a green light shook through the house and you sobbed in pain as you held on tight to your kids, aware of the ticking time you had. ivory held onto her brother protectively as you whispered to them, “listen, mummy and daddy love you both so much,” you cried, “never forget that, okay? we love you, we’ll always be here,” you yearn begging for this all to be a dream.

as he appears in the doorway you stand up in front of the two kids in the crib, “leave them alone!” you yell as he comically laughs at your misery knowing your disarmed. his sinister smile sickened you as he caressed your face with his wand, your tears falling achingly down your cheeks.

“your pathetic husband is dead,” he snarled, peering at the crying babies behind you as you followed his gaze protectively. “and soon will the rest of your little family,” he grinned, “murderered and forgotten.” you shake your head profusely.

“you can take my life, but you won’t get any closer to my children then you are now.” you growled, his smile morphing into something angry and furious. he chanted avada kedavra and the light fell from your eyes, nothing but the framed picture of your family on the wall in front of you left in your memory.

the cries and sobs of the kids echoed through the house as voldermort scowled at them, whilst ivory held her brother close to her, “mama!” she cried, tears streaming down her face onto her brother’s at their proximity.

he threw the curse at them which rebounded onto himself as he yelled and disappeared into thin air, leaving two scarred young children who had nothing but their parent’s distant memory. and the love and protection that saved them from the ending that their parents suffered. the oldest daughter comforting her younger brother as he innocently made grabby hands at his mother’s unconscious body.

“its otay haz, i’ve got you now,” ivory sniffled as the two dozed into their own sleep, hopelessly waiting for someone to realise and come and get them.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Silliness VI (Family Edition)

17-year-old Shermie: *holding out a lunch pail* Stanford, don’t forget your lunch. I don’t want you to be hungry.

12-year-old Jerk Ford: Whatever, b***h.

12-year-old Stanley: Ford! You can't talk to our brother like that!

Jerk Ford: Sure.

-45 Years Later-

57-year-old Jerk Ford: *holding up a paper bag* Dipper, your lunch. I don’t want you starving.

12-year-old Dipper: Whatever, b***h *flips him off*.

[Directly From This]

-

Jerk Ford: Hey, runt.

Mabel: Yes, Great Uncle Ford?

Jerk Ford: I was reading through the entries and 'corrections' you and your brother oh-so-kindly put into my Journal, and I noticed something.

Mabel: What?

Jerk Ford: You defeated the gnomes?

Mabel: Yup, with a leaf blower!

Jerk Ford: And this whole kerfuffle started because... they wanted you to marry them and be their queen?

Mabel: Oh- uh, yeah. I was disappointed because they weren't secretly a vampire.

Jerk Ford: You don't say...

-Later-

Jerk Ford: Now, what is the age of consent in the state of Oregon?

Jeff, hanging upside down from a tree: *sobbing* Eighteen!

Jerk Ford: And what's the age of consent for anyone with the last names Pines, Corduroy, Ramirez, or McGucket?

Jeff: Infinity!

Jerk Ford: Good, we're at an understanding. However, just in case- *continues to blow on dog whistle*

Jeff: *screeches in anguish*

---

17-year-old Stanley and Jerk Ford sitting in the Stanley Mobile.

Stan: Ford, I know what you're thinking.

Jerk Ford:

Stan: You cannot blow up the state of Jersey.

Jerk Ford: Why not?

Stan: That wouldn't solve nothin'!

Jerk Ford: Yes it would.

Stan: What problem could blowing up New Jersey possibly solve??

Jerk Ford: The existence of Jersey.

(In all seriousness, Jerk Ford would definitely leave with Stanley. They would struggle being homeless in Stan's car for a few weeks or months depending on when they were kicked out, but they both still had scholarships to Backupsmoore so they'd be good once they went to college. Jerk Ford would conduct so many séances around Pines Pawns in the meantime that it would be super haunted forever)

---

Stanford: I was stuck in a dimension where the arm of the galaxy I was in was in the midst of a galactic war. And all of the men - and about a hundred other genders across the different alien species - regardless of age were required to serve in the war. But, there was a loophole.

Anyone who worked at Hooters, in space or terrestrial, was exempted, to improve the morale of the remaining civilian population of women - and about a hundred more genders across the different alien species - the real reason I was in trouble for not putting in my two weeks notice isn't just because it was bad work practice, but it made me a war deserter.

Stan: Please never speak of this again, and don't try it again.

Stanford: I can't anyways, lost too much weight. No 'hooters' to speak of anymore.

Stan: Please, stop talkin'.

Stanford: I made so much money, too.

Stan: Sometimes I wish ya didn't know words.

---

During a Game of Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons

Old Man McGucket, the Dungeon Master: You realize what you are facing is a type of ooze - a corrosive monster called a Black Pudding.

Jerk Ford, playing a Bard: Quick, is anyone's character a vegetarian?

Dipper, playing a Ranger: My character lives off of the land, so no.

Soos, playing a Druid: Same here dawg, no.

Wendy, playing a Tabaxi: Heck no.

Mabel, playing a Satyr: Surprisingly, no.

Melody, playing a Warforged: My character doesn't even eat.

Jerk Ford: Da-rn it! A vegetarian would be immune to the Black Pudding.

Old Man McGucket: ...And why do you think that?

Jerk Ford: Don't you know; if you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding?

*collective groaning from the other players*

Old Man Mcgucket:

Old Man Mcgucket: I'm giving you a negative inspiration point.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi there, what's your take on Lupin's atitude towards Harry and their relationship

I think that the scene at Grimmauld Place, on deathly hallows is a very cathartic one. Harry is seeing one of his last father figures fall from a pedestal, and for me Harry acted on the right here, what do you think?

Like, their relationship is one that I'm a little weird about. Like, I'm not a big fan of Lupin, as I mentioned here. And I kinda hate when fanon treats him like Harry's cool uncle or similar to Sirius in his treatment of Harry. That is so not the case with Lupin. Like, Lupin is an expert at messing his social life up, so any relationship he's part of can't be simple.

I saw another post once that stated that it's telling that Harry calls the Mauraders: James, Sirius, Lupin, and Wormtail in his head, and yes, that is telling. The fact he keeps calling him Lupin even after Lupin makes him his son's godfather is telling regarding their emotional closeness — or lack thereof.

Harry doesn't trust Lupin the way he trusted Sirius. During 3rd year, he's the one pressing Lupin and chasing him to teach him the Patronus Charm. Lupin never mentions, in all their interactions that he knew Harry's parents. In the movies, Lupin was much more paternal towards Harry than in the books. Book Lupin is having a mental breakdown every time he looks at Harry and sees his dead friend. He lives in a constant state of guilt and I think, in book 3 he has no idea how to even approach Harry and this topic since he knows it'll bring up uncomfortable questions such as: "Where were you for 12 years?" along with digging up memories of his past that Lupin doesn't seem interested in reminiscing about until Sirius forces him to.

“All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me . . . and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me.

(PoA, 356)

He says the above regarding Sirius, but the same is true for anything else in his life. Especially when it comes to his treatment of Harry. He wants to reach out, he wants to say something, but then he gets stuck wondering if he should and ends up not doing anything. He chickens out, basically.

Then Lupin disappears for, like, the entirety of book 4. Harry's in a death tournament? well, Lupin doesn't seem to care. Like, I think he does care, in a general sort of way, but he got wrapped in his own guilt and indecision that he just never makes an appearance. He probably convinced himself Harry would be worse off if Remus was there because that's what he does. He made joint appearances with Sirius and the Order in book 5, where he's clearly saying everything he needs to say to please as many people as possible because he wants to be liked. I do want to note this scene from book 5 that I feel is overlooked:

“Excellent,” said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. “We’ve got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we’re ready. Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —” “They won’t,” said Harry. “That you’re safe —” “That’ll just depress them.” “— and you’ll see them next summer.” “Do I have to?” Lupin smiled but made no answer.

(OotP, 54)

I hate this passage so much, you don't even know. Like, in my most recent reread of OotP once I read this line I closed the book and took a month-long break from my reread. Like, reading this is chewing glass for me. Because the only question on my mind is: "How could you, Remus?"

Like, I just can't imagine having an ex-student of yours, or even worse, the son of your dead best friend, tell you they don't want to go back home, that their relatives would rather they won't be safe — and all you do is give a cryptic half-assed smile.

Like, if we go with the most generous interpretation of Lupin's character, we can say he does feel awful about it but he, again, is trapped in his own indecision. Dumbledore gave him orders, and according to them Harry must return to the Dursleys, but he also cares about Hary's well-being in a vague sort of way. So, that smile we see here is Lupin trying to be reassuring through his guilt and failing miserably.

Then, of course, we can go with less favorable interpretations of how he, like many other characters, is a product of his society and upbringing. The Wizarding World doesn't really have the concept of social care and they don't really see abuse the way we do. That he honestly thinks Harry is speaking in hyperbole and is smiling because he thinks Harry's being dramatic like James used to be.

I think the truth is somewhere in between these two options, tbh.

Then he has his romance with Tonks, but Harry isn't really privy to most of it and it doesn't really concern him.

Then, we get to book 7 and that scene you mentioned.

Now, obviously, I think Harry is in the right. I think Lupin is, once again, being an indecisive cowered. Something he is very aware of. I think Harry is right in calling him out, although, perhaps it could have been done better. Both Harry and Lupin lost their tempers a bit during this scene and it shows. But, still, Harry is right about everything he says and Lupin knows this. That's why he gets angry enough to actually attack Harry. Because he has no way to argue against the truth.

“Tonks is going to have a baby.” “Oh, how wonderful!” squealed Hermione. “Excellent!” said Ron enthusiastically. “Congratulations,” said Harry. Lupin gave an artificial smile that was more like a grimace, then said, “So . . . do you accept my offer? Will three become four? [...] “Just—just to be clear,” he said. “You want to leave Tonks at her parents’ house and come away with us?” “She’ll be perfectly safe there, they’ll look after her,” said Lupin. He spoke with a finality bordering on indifference. “Harry, I’m sure James would have wanted me to stick with you.” “Well,” said Harry slowly, “I’m not. I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually.” Lupin’s face drained of color. [...] “You don’t understand,” said Lupin at last. “Explain, then,” said Harry. Lupin swallowed. “I-I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since.” “I see,” said Harry, “so you’re just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?” Lupin sprang to his feet: His chair toppled backward, and he glared at them so fiercely that Harry saw, for the first time ever, the shadow of the wolf upon his human face. “Don’t you understand what I’ve done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I’ve made her an outcast!” Lupin kicked aside the chair he had overturned.

(DH, 184)

He knows Harry is right, but he also truly believes marrying Tonks was a mistake for how she and the yet unborn Teddy would have to live their lives with him being a werewolf. He feels guilty and awful and he's trying to do here what Lupin always does — run away from his problems. Except, in the above scene, Harry doesn't let him have a pretty excuse for running off. Because when Lupin runs from his issues, he always makes sure to have an excuse. Somehow the excuse is always: "I'm a werewolf, and I'll make everything worse". I mean, he quit being the DADA teacher before they could fire him. All he does is run before the other shoe drops. Because Lupin is convinced the shoe is there. He lived all his life with this constant fear. The moment Lupin sniffs an uncertain situation he bolts in the other direction.

Like, I know some call Pettigrew the cowardly Maruader, but, really, it's been Lupin all along. (Peter is also a coward, but a very different flavor of coward).

And I think, later in book 7, when Lupin makes Harry Teddy's godfather, that's his way of apologizing for the past 16 years. He's apologizing to Harry for wanting to run away from Tonks, (and Harry, and everything else). This decision is a sort of 'thank you' to Harry for convincing him to stick around and not be a coward for once in his life, and it turned out good. It's also a decision that basically promises Harry Lupin isn't going to disappear from his life again. That, to me, was Lupin's character development and apology. It's him saying he's stopping with his guilt-ridden indecision and that he is settling down. He isn't running anymore and he wants Harry as part of his and his son's lives.

But, we didn't really get to see that happen, if he'll really stick to it or run away again because he died.

[empressdede]

Whispers of Magnolia - 3

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A/N: This is a love story set during segregation times. The languages are harsh but please be aware that I am trying to be as historically accurate as possible for fictional content. Racial slurs will be used, and some chapters involve really dark content: Death and Non consensual sex. Please read at your own will.

P.S. If you see her mother call her Line please know it’s being pronounced as (Leen) lol because I don’t want to confuse anyone😭

Banners used are made by @/firefly-graphics

Chapter Three

New Orleans had always belonged to someone. Governors. Politicians. Oil tycoons. But in the late 1950s, it belonged to him.

Roman Reigns wasn’t just a man—he was a force, a storm that swept through the city and left nothing untouched. He controlled everything that mattered: the ports, the unions, the underground gambling rings, and even the police who were supposed to uphold the law. People feared him, respected him, and when they saw him coming, they either stepped aside or ended up buried beneath the weight of his wrath.

The name Roman Reigns had been whispered in the streets for years, growing into something more than just a man’s identity. It was a warning.

He came from a family of power, an empire built long before he was born. His father had been ruthless, his uncles worse. But Roman? He had taken what they built and turned it into something untouchable. The Bloodline ran New Orleans like it was stitched into the city’s foundation, a silent kingdom of wealth and violence that few dared to challenge.

The police? They were bought and paid for. The mayor? He owed Roman favors he could never repay. Business owners? They knew better than to operate without his blessing. And if anyone tried to cross him—if anyone thought for one second they could outsmart him—well, they didn’t live long enough to regret it.

The Bloodline wasn’t just Roman. It was his family.

Jimmy and Jey were his cousins, his right and left hands. Jimmy was the talker, the one who could charm his way out of anything. He laughed easily, made people feel at ease—right up until he decided to slit their throat. Jey, on the other hand, was quieter, colder. He didn’t waste words when action would do. When Roman needed something handled, Jey handled it, no questions asked.

Together, the three of them were untouchable.

Roman had started young, proving himself by taking over the docks where illegal shipments came in under the cover of darkness. By twenty, he was running the gambling houses on Bourbon Street. By twenty-five, he had expanded into Chicago, Miami, and even New York. But New Orleans? That was home. That was his kingdom.

He rarely had to get his hands dirty anymore—he had men for that. But when he did, the city remembered.

People still talked about what happened to William Devereaux, the banker who thought he could withhold money from Roman. They found him floating in the Mississippi, his hands tied behind his back, his tongue cut out—a warning to anyone else who thought they could betray the Bloodline.

And then there was the police chief who tried to investigate him. The man went missing for a full month before he was found in an abandoned sugar mill, his body burned beyond recognition.

But Roman? He never went to trial. Never spent a day behind bars. The police reports always went missing, witnesses always recanted their statements, and judges always ruled in his favor.

It wasn’t just fear that kept him in power. It was control.

He knew everyone’s secrets—what they did, who they did it with, what they’d pay to keep it quiet. And if there was something he didn’t know? Well, he had ways of finding out.

Still, despite all the power he held, there was one thing about Roman that unsettled even those closest to him.

He was never satisfied.

No amount of money, no amount of respect, no amount of power ever seemed to be enough. He always wanted more.

That’s why he had agreed to meet with the Rollins family. They were old money, the kind that had been sitting at the top of society for generations. They weren’t criminals like him—at least, not in the way that mattered—but they understood business, and they understood power.

Mr. Rollins needed security for his shipping yards, protection from the kind of men who weren’t afraid to take what they wanted. Roman could offer that, for a price.

So when he walked into that grand estate, it wasn’t about business. It was about ownership. Rollins thought he was making a deal. Roman knew he was making a conquest.

And then he saw her.

A girl—no, a woman,—moving silently through the room, her head down, her hands careful as she set glasses on the polished table. Dark skin, delicate hands, eyes that held a quiet strength he had never seen before.

Evangeline.

He didn’t know her name yet, but he would.

Because for the first time in years, Roman wanted something he couldn’t just take.

And that made her the most dangerous thing of all.

I see this doesn’t catch the eye of many, BUT I love the story so much, I’m going to keep releasing anyway. I may also release chapter 4 tonight, just because. To those who read, enjoy. 🤍

VIP TAGLIST : @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @pr0tost4r @paigereeder @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01 @mzv11 @trippinsorrows @partypoison00 @isabella-2025 @jstarr86 @chrisevanswife0405 @fearlesschimera @cyberdejos2 @whowrotethenote @potatosackk @ajaxcleaningsupplies @sayyestoheav3nn @chasssssworld @christinabae @glittergirl7 @itskii01 @fame-ass-ers @li-da-savage @ashykneee @kianaleani @holisticcoach @pittieprincess22 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandairene88 @luvrsluxe @jaethaone @horneyforsmut

[loves0phelia]

Country Girl

Summery: Eddie’s music career is getting to much, what happens when he takes a vacation to a small countryside town?

Words: 4,1k

Warnings: spelling mistakes, characters gets in underwear, mention of drinking alcohol.

A/N: this sucks but I haven’t written in 2 months sooo I hope you enjoy xx

“Are you kidding me?”

“No Eds, you're going to Spring Lake.” Gareth stood with his hands on his hips with a fatherlike glare fixated on his friend whom he almost didn't recognize nowadays. 

“Why would I be going in this shit hole? I am fine right where I am” He said the last bit of his sentence with a long tired sigh as he planted himself down on the beat-up couch in the trailer where all the costumes and concert essentials were stored. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was greasy and sweaty sticking to his forehead. 

“You're not okay Eddie. We can't recognize you anymore. You need some time off, we all do. and it would be better if you got out of the city for the summer ” Eddie scoffed at this and rubbed his hand over his face.

“Ok. Who's we? And who put “we” in charge of me?” He laughed humorlessly and stood up from his seat with an accusatory finger pointed at Gareth's face.

“Julie, but we all agreed with her, Eddie. You can barely stand during our shows because you drank too much beforehand, even the press is talking about it! You're making it hard for all of us-”

“Shut up! Shut up!” His voice bounced on the metal walls and rang in Gareth's ears making him visibly cringe before he stormed out. 

As soon as he stepped out, the cameras started flashing and blinding him, capturing his angry features and red eyes. He couldn't wait to see the newspaper with the various headlines about him and his addictions.

He yanked open the limousine door that was initially the band's way of transport but he couldn't care less about how they would get to the hotel. He slides in, slamming it shut behind him. His eyes flashed with irritation as he leaned forward.

"To the hotel, and step on it, will you? I’ve already had enough shit today. No detours, no shortcuts—just get me there as fast as you can." He barked at the chauffeur.

Without caring for a response he slumped back against the seat, glaring out the window,

The drive was short, as requested. He was back at the hotel before anyone else. Still fuming with rage and decided to dial a number he only called for emergencies.

ring 

ring

ring

“Hello?” The man's voice was soothing in Eddie's ears. 

“Hey, Wayne.” An angry tear fell out of Eddie's eye.

“Eddie, boy do you know how late it is?” Eddie turned his head slightly to look at the clock that lay on the modern-looking bedside table.

“Sorry, I just- I need to talk to you” his throat contracted another tear threatening to fall from his brown doe eyes.

“What's wrong son?” Despite Wayne's strong and deep voice, the concern was clear.

“Julie and the band wants-” Once again his hand made its way into his hair, this time gripping angrily. “They want me to go to Spring Lake for the summer as if they can just send me away! Like- Like to get rid of me” he groaned into the receiver.

“Eddie listen to me” Wayne signed sadly for Eddie.

“What?” 

“I requested it to your manager, okay? I've seen you on TV and I can't even count on my fingers the number of times you've called me in the middle of the night while being drunk. You need a break, son” 

“No, no! I'm fine Wayne” Both of his knees started trembling as he couldn't help the tears from cascading down his cheeks. He felt lost and he couldn't find a way to return.

“You're not Eds. You need to find a way to get better, please listen to Julie when she comes to talk to you, goodnight, son. I love you” The phone pressed against Eddie's ear went flat as the line disconnected. 

He sat there, staring blankly ahead, his face drained of colour. He barely notices the tear that escapes now.

He was used to getting comments from Gareth and Jeff or the rest of the band but never from his uncle.

His chest felt heavy, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to scream, to do something, but nothing came. Instead, he remained still, unable to process everything the night unfolded. 

He felt disconnected as if the world was moving on without him, until a knock came to the door. His eyes which looked blankly at the carpet floor snapped to the hotel room door. He didn't bother to stand figuring out the person on the other side would get the message and leave him alone. 

Unfortunately, the door opened and Julie entered the room. 

“Did you talk to Wayne?” She asked, her voice sharp like a thorn. 

“I did”

“I should've told Gareth to keep his mouth shut about this, it wasn't his place to tell you. I'm your manager, I should be the one taking care of this mess” Her black leather boots stumped on the floor as she approached the bed he was sitting on.

“Wayne said you loved going to Spring Lake as a kid, that's why we thought it would be a great idea.” She added.

“Yeah trailer park, poor, didn't have a life Eddie loved going there, it was the only place where I wasn't freak because everything is disconnected there.” Julie’s eyes soften, her heart feeling sad at the mention of Ed's childhood. 

“I have a life now, I'm a rockstar, and I'm important to people” 

“But you're losing yourself in the process. You need to go back to your roots, and learn what's really important” Eddie sighed in defeat there was no denying it.

“Go to Spring Lake for a couple of weeks and if you hate it, come back. My niece has a cottage she can welcome you”

…

His fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest as the car slowed down to avoid a group of cyclists taking up the road.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, glancing out the window at two horses casually munching on herbs. 

The car finally pulled up to a small cottage-looking house, it was small, probably only big enough for two bedrooms and one bathroom. It had a porch swing and a bunch of potted flowers. It was far from what he was used to now.  

The driver opened the door for him, his black combat boots crunched against the gravel. Eddie's expression was clearly stating that he’d rather be anywhere else.

"Let’s just get this over with," he sighed, and he walked towards the entrance of the house. As Marcus “driver” started unloading his luggage.

He raised his fist to connect it to do wooden door frame around the screen door but at the same time the door on the other side swung open as fast as a rush of wind

He wrinkled his nose slightly, the faint smell of fresh baked goods interfered with his overpriced cologne.

“Hi!” you said in a welcoming tone. Eddie was mesmerized by your sun-kissed skin glowing so naturally. Your beautiful hair, loosely tied back with a ribbon, cascaded down your shoulders. your overalls are dirty but charming with a simple floral pattern embroidered into the pockets.

Your face broke into a wide, genuine smile, your eyes crinkled at the corners with the kind of happiness that he wasn't used to seeing.

“It's so nice to see you, Eddie!,” You walked forward pushing the screen door that was separating you both to greet him, making Eddie step back a few feet almost tripping down the small stairs leading up to the porch.,

“I’m y/n. It’s so nice to have you here, I made some blueberry muffins and cinnamon rolls I didn't know which one you preferred… oh! I also have some lemon pie. come in!.”

He barely managed to suppress a groan. Of course, you would be cheerful and kind. Everyone in these small towns always was. Still, there was something about you that made him pause. Maybe it was the way your smile didn’t get flatter even as you faced his cold demeanour or the way your eyes sparkled as you spoke about the dessert you had made for him specifically. He shook off the thought, reminding himself that he was here out of obligation, not to make friends.

“Thanks,” he replied shortly, his tone cold as he glanced around the room, doing his best to avoid looking directly at you.

you didn’t seem bothered by his lack of enthusiasm. Instead, you clasped her hands together, your smile never fading.

“I’ve got your room all ready. there's a dresser and a fantastic view of the lake behind the house. I hope you’ll like it.”

He sighed, already regretting the trip, but nodded. “Sure. Lead the way.”

As you walked ahead of him, he couldn't help but notice the way your hips swayed gracefully. He quickly looked away, feeling annoyed at himself. He wasn’t here to admire the locals, least of all a girl who looked like she belonged in a summer daydream.

You led him up the narrow hallway, talking about various details about the house and the people in town, the kind of small talk that would usually make him roll his eyes. But today, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he found himself listening, even if he didn’t respond.

“Here, this is your room and mine is right there” You pointed to the door right next to ‘his’ 

He grunted a thanks, stepping inside and without saying a word he closed the door shut. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. You were beautiful, he admitted to himself, but in a way that was different from the women he was used to. Something was refreshing about you, something real.

But then he shook his head, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter how beautiful you were. He was here for a few days at most, just to make his manager happy and then he’d be back to his world, far away from this little town and its infuriatingly sunny inhabitants. Still, as he threw himself onto the bed, he couldn’t quite get your smile out of his mind.

….

Eddie stirred beneath the soft blankets, blinking against the unwelcome brightness. He wasn’t used to waking up to the sound of birds chirping outside the window or the scent of fresh coffee wafting through the air. For a moment, he forgot where he was, his mind still groggy from sleep. The sheets were softer, crumb-free and smelled flowery.

Then it hit him—he was in your house in Spring Lake.  The day of his arrival felt like a dream, a bad dream. He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face as he sat up, his hair wild and eyes heavy with remaining sleep. This wasn’t how he usually started his day, and the unfamiliarity of it all only added to his irritation.

Just as he was about to pull himself out of bed, there was a soft knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You peeked your head in and smiled as bright as ever. Who was this happy at… 8 am?

“Good morning! I hope you slept well,” You said, stepping into the room with a steaming mug of coffee in hand.

He mumbled a response “Morning.”

you handed him the mug, your fingers brushing against his as you did. “I made you some coffee. I thought you might need it. the trip was probably long, you forgot your suitcases outside, but don't worry I rolled them in for you last night” you reassured.

“Thanks,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. He took a sip. It was good coffee, surprisingly so. He gave you a nod of approval, which you seemed to appreciate before leaving the room and allowing him to get civil.

After a moment he joined you in the kitchen still looking grumpy “So,” you began “ You don’t exactly strike me as the countryside type so what are you doing here?.”

He raised an eyebrow at your directness.

“Julie didn't tell you?” he replied simply, taking another sip of coffee.

“She only said you already knew your way around town so I didn't need to play guide with you but you don't seem to be from here and I don't think I've seen you before,” you shrugged.

He let out a short, humourless laugh. “I used to come here every summer as a kid”

You tilted her head, studying him.  “Well, I hope you enjoy it as much as you did before.”

He frowned at that. “Enjoy it? What’s there to enjoy? I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere when I could be… I don't know. having fun?.”

“Maybe you can have fun here?” your voice was a little teasing as if in your head you had come up with a sudden plan.

“How?” 

…

“This is Carrot,” You said, patting the horse’s neck affectionately. “He's perfect for beginners”

Eddie arched an eyebrow, “I’m not a beginner,” he said gruffly, though the truth was, he had never been this close to a horse before, let alone ridden one. But he wasn’t about to let that show.

“Alright then, Mr. Experienced. Ready to get on?”

He took the reins with a nod, his grip a little tighter than necessary. He’d seen people ride horses in movies and on TV—how hard could it be? With a deep breath, he approached Carrot. 

“First, put your left foot in the stirrup,” you instructed, watching him closely. “Then swing your right leg over.”

“I know," he cut you off, determined to appear unbothered. For a moment, he hesitated, but he quickly shook it off and pushed himself up. His right leg swung over the saddle, and before he knew it, he was sitting on the horse. He landed with more force than he intended, and Carrot shifted beneath him, causing him to tense up.

“See? Easy,” But he forced himself to stay calm, straightening his posture and gripping the reins as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

“right… So you can race me then?” The corner of your lips lifted in a malicious smirk.

“Race you?” he tensed up again, shifting in the saddle as he tried to find a comfortable position. 

“mhm,”  you said, smoothly mounting your horse.

The horses began to move. Eddie's eyes widened slightly “Wait wait wait, can we take it slow… it's been a while, I just gotta warm up a little” he lied through his teeth.

“I thought you were experienced” You turned your head over your shoulder looking back at him as your horse galloped forward. “Just relax and let him guide you. There’s no rush.”

Relax? Easier said than done. But he wasn’t about to let you see him falter. So he squared his shoulders and  took a deep breath

After a few minutes of you both going slowly around the field, Eddie had finally gotten the hang of it. Or so he thought.

“How about we pick up the pace now? A little friendly race, maybe?” He said, his voice still trembling, clearly not being as confident as he wished to be.

“Alright, you’re on,” you replied. 

You flashed him another grin, then gently nudged your mare forward. Belle (your horse), sensing the challenge, picked up her pace too, and before you knew it, You and Eddie were both moving faster across the field. 

“Come on, Carrot!” he urged with a small proud smile, impressed at his skills, trying to keep up with you, who had already raced slightly ahead of him. 

For a moment, Eddie forgot all about his earlier discomfort. It was just him, the horse, and the open field ahead and for the first time in a while, he felt free.

But then, as he rounded a bend in the open field, Carrot suddenly swerved to avoid a rock hidden in the tall grass. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and before he could react, he felt himself slipping sideways in the saddle. 

The next thing he knew, his legs swinging over the horse’s back as he tumbled off in an awkward arc.

He hit the ground with a heavy thud, right in the middle of a large, muddy puddle. The cold, thick mud splattered everywhere, coating his clothes, face, and hair in a messy, sticky layer. For a second, he just lay there, stunned, staring up at the sky as the reality of what had just happened sank in.

“Oh my gosh Eddie, are you okay?” You jumped down your horse and rushed to his aid, slipping on your knees in the puddle to check for any injuries.

He sat up slowly, wiping mud from his face with a grimace. His once-pristine jacket was now a muddy mess, and his hair stuck out in odd angles, but as he looked up at you, concerned in your eyes, on your knees in the puddle, next to him, he couldn’t help it. A chuckle escaped him, followed by another, until he was laughing.

Your frown quickly turned upside down when you heard the laughter coming out of his mouth. Giggles quickly started bubbling in your throat as well.

“I warned you it wasn’t as easy as it looked,” you teased, grinning as you tried brushing some of the mud off his shoulder.

He let out a mock groan, half-grumpy, half-amused with the situation.

Despite the mud, the fall, and the bruised ego, he felt lighter than he had in days. There was something liberating about letting go, about laughing at himself and the situation, instead of trying to maintain the stoic facade he usually wore. 

”Let's get you cleaned up. I think you’ve had enough mud for one day.” You smiled and grabbed both his hands to help him up from the muddy water.

As you both walked back toward the cottage-like house, side by side, he realized something. For the first time since he’d arrived, he was having fun. And it was all thanks to you.

…

Ever since that day, you and Eddie have been enjoying each other's company.

Today the sun was glowing despite the dark clouds looming in the sky but knowing rain was to come you both decided to stay in the cottage instead of going out to the horse barn. and that's how you ended up standing on your tiptoes, trying to reach a bag of flour on the top shelf. 

Eddie watched you from the doorway with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“Why don’t you just use a stool like a normal person?” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a determined look, your lips curving into a playful smile.

“I’ve got it, don’t worry. I do this all the time.”

Eddie sighed, watching you struggle with the shelf that was clearly too high for you. You were nothing if not stubborn. Just as he was about to walk over and get the flour himself, you made a final, determined stretch—and knocked the bag off the shelf. It tumbled through the air, heading straight for your face.

“Oh, for crying out loud…” Eddie muttered, stepping forward with reflexes quicker than he cared to acknowledge. He caught the bag just before it hit you but not without consequence. 

The bag burst open on impact, sending a thick cloud of flour exploding into the air.

You blinked, momentarily stunned as the white powder rained down on the both of you. When the cloud settled, you were covered head to toe in flour, your long hair now dusted with white. Eddie wasn't much better, his dark hair and clothes now sprinkled with flour.

“Well… at least you caught it,” you murmured as you and Eddie stood unmoving

Eddie gave you a long, unimpressed look.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, reaching up to wipe the flour off his face with a sigh. “You’re welcome.”

“Sorry, guess we're just bound to get dirty all the time” Your giggles broke free, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but there was a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t push it,” he replied, though his tone lacked the usual bite.               

“At least you look cute” Your hands brushed his cheek to remove some of the remaining flour from his face, even though only water would be able to remove the cloudy ingredient from your face. 

“I'm going to take a dip in the lake to clean up a bit before going in the shower, I don't want the flour to clog the drain, you coming?” Your boldness surprised you.

“uhh- ye- yes” You laughed under your breath at Eddie's flushed face before walking to the glass door leading to the wooden dock in the backyard of your house.

You reached the edge of the dock and kicked off your shoes. Eddie followed, his hands stuffed into his pockets but watching you intensely. But his gaze quickly left you when you started pulling away your dress leaving you in only your underwear.

“uhh,” Eddie scratched his head awkwardly, not sure where to look anymore.

“It's okay Eddie, you can look, it's just like a swimsuit” You brushed your hair over your shoulder and saw Eddie gulp. Once again a giggle escaped you but without further explanation, you jumped in the water. 

You emerged with a splash, your laughter bubbling up as you pushed your wet hair out of your face. you looked up at Eddie, who was still standing at the edge of the dock, staring down at you. 

“Come on, rockstar, that flour isn't gonna fly away!” you called back, your voice echoing across the lake. You floated on your back, arms outstretched.

For a moment, Eddie hesitated. But then, as he looked at you, carefree and glowing in the golden light, something in him shifted. Maybe it was the way you seemed to belong to this place or the way you had pulled him into your world without even trying. Or maybe it was just that he wanted to hold onto this feeling a little longer, to be a part of it.

With a resigned sigh, Eddie kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside as well as his pants leaving him in only boxers. You watched, your heart skipping a beat as he moved closer to the edge. He paused for just a second, meeting your gaze.

Then, without another word, he jumped.

The water erupted around him as he plunged in, disappearing beneath the surface for a few seconds before he came back to the surface.

You swam closer, the distance between you closing. 

Eddie chuckled, his laughter rich and warm as he reached out to gently brush a strand of wet hair from your face. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

You grinned, your eyes locking onto his as she splashed him playfully. “You’re welcome,” you teased, before leaning in and pressing a quick, playful kiss to his cheek.

“y/n…” Eddie whispered, not even sure what he was going to say.

But before he could finish, you leaned in, your gaze dropping to his lips. For a split second, the world stood still. Then, in one fluid motion, you both closed the distance between you, his lips brushing softly against yours.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative as if you were afraid he might pull away. But when Eddie responded, his lips moving against yours with equal softness, you deepened the kiss, and his hand came up to cup your cheek.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as your legs wrapped around his waist in the water, you melted into him, your arms wrapped around his neck for added support. The world around you seemed to disappear.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Eddie's heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it.

Eddie opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto yours. “I didn’t expect that,” he admitted, his voice low and rough.

you smiled, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “I’m glad I did it,” you whispered back, your heart swelling.

“Me too,” he said softly, pressing another light kiss to your forehead before pulling you further into his arms, holding you close.

“I think we should get out before we get all wrinkly” You laughed and he splashed more water onto your face before you started to swim away.

…

“Hey Julie, please tell the band I won't be back for a while…” He whispered into the phone as you slept beside him your hair all sprawled on the silk pillow where your head layed as he kissed you endlessly a couple of hours before.

“How long are you thinking?” she asked.

“Actually… I don't think I will come back at all”

[villifx]

it seemed a lot of people liked the brother-in-law merle headcanons and a couple of people like the idea of uncle merle, so... let's talk about how you and daryl make merle an uncle :)

─•~��᯽❉~•──•~❉᯽❉~•──•~❉᯽❉~•─

• you get pregnant not long after the group settles in alexandria

• merle keeps his distance from you while you're pregnant

• your hormones are all over the place, you go from laughing to crying at the drop of a dime, and any time he opens his mouth around you, he's always saying the wrong thing

• daryl has to play mediator so that you don't kill him, even though sometimes daryl considers doing it himself

• like when merle mentioned how big you were getting during your second trimester... *sigh*

• you cried

• daryl snapped

• it was... not a good day

• so he stays away for the most part, asking daryl when he wants to know how you're doing. he occasionally brings you some snacks that he must have stolen from the pantry, but you're always too hungry to care about how he got them

• first time merle actually calls you his sister out loud is after you've given birth and he holds his niece for the first time

• "atta girl, baby sister. you did real good."

• he is BEAMIIIINNGGG

• his eyes are just a little wet because the air is dry, that's all...

• he had wanted a nephew so bad, but the second he sees her, his heart grows three times it's size

• he was convinced that dixons could only make boys, but here he is holding a little dixon girl, daryl's babygirl, and she's the most precious thing he's ever seen

• constant jokes about needing a paternity test

• "i'm just saying, that nose is lookin' more like mine than yours, maybe your girl slipped into the wrong bed one night-" "shut the hell up, merle"

• merle always gives you a little wink to show he's just being an ass and not actually accusing you of such a thing

• which daryl knows. it doesn't annoy him any less, though

• never allowed to babysit EVERRRR. if your daughter isn't with aunt carol or aunt maggie, then she's at the grimes house. merle always has choice words about it

• okay, well... he babysits a couple times. and your daughter was returned back each time covered in dirt. one time merle carries her up to the door with wet pant legs pulled up to her knees and bits of leaves still strewn in her hair

• "oh... you had a fun time with uncle merle, huh?" "damn right she did, mamas. taught 'er how to catch frogs. babydoll, tell yer mama what a frog says!" "bib-bit!" "she's learnin'."

• saying the name merle is too complicated for your daughter's limited articulation, so she just calls him 'unca' while she's learning to talk.

• when your daughter DOES start to articulate...

• "son of a bitch!" "bitch!" "ha! that was good! wait- nah, nah, don't say that- aw, shit..." "shit!" "no!"

• he refuses to own up to it

• "merle! why's my daughter cursin' like a fuckin' sailor?" "well, darleena, sounds to me like she's gettin' it from you!"

• he's the favorite uncle (after aaron - your daughter adores aaron)

• rick's lowkey offended by it and tries to subtly bribe your daughter into saying she likes him more

• "uncle dick!"

• ...

• "... are you kiddin' me?" "don't know where she learned that from. must be a good judge'a character."

little bonus that doesn't have to do with uncle merle: it's really up to you, but i like to think that you and daryl would have agreed to name your daughter beth 🥺 you would have suggested the name, knowing that part of daryl never really healed after her death, and he would freeze. forgets how to breathe for a second as the memories wash over him. and then he would blink really fast as he feels his eyes start to water and he'd give you that soft little nod he does when he's trying not to cry. PLEASE- 😭

[alkalineapparition]

Jaws

Simon Ghost Riley x Hybrid!Reader|Full Chapter

Part 12– Basking in the solace of regret

"RIPPER, NO!"

This is the moment that will stay with Simon for the rest of his life. Someday, when he's watching his mistakes play in frantic strokes of color on the canvas of his eyelids, this is what will haunt him most.

You, for all your ferocity, gift him one last look. Soft, apologetic. No intention of heeding his command. When he reaches for the handle on the back of your vest, you slip through his fingers like water. Gone.

Just. Like. That.

You'd both been pinned for a while now. The others were farther behind, providing rear security so you could retrieve what they came for. They hadn't known, couldn't see past the smoke clouding your positions. And he hadn't had the time to tell them, between returning fire and holding position, before a close call shot his comms to shit. He hadn't had the time...

He should have made the time.

And now there would never be more time. The clock had stuck twelve, the hour glass run out of sand.

Because you had decided your life mattered less than his. Mattered less than the mission. Goddammit.

He no can no longer see you, he's lost sight and all he can think is how he'd rather become dust and smoke himself than come home without you.

Leaning back against the small outcrop of rocks you'd been taking cover behind, his eyes close. Then, he does something he hasn't done since he was a child.

He prays.

He prays to the bastard that's never bothered giving an answer before. Teeth gritting down to the nub, he wills the asshole to hear him.

Bring her back to me.

In this moment, Ghost hates himself. He's never been more useless—he can't just charge in after you, the lack of vision would make it suicide. Perhaps you'd been able to see what he couldn't. But then why did you go alone, if not to save him from whatever it is you saw? If he got up and charged after you now, would he find you grinning in triumph, or be faced with a wall of enemy soldiers riddling his body with bullets?

Some fucking leuitenant, huh?

As if he could summon you by mere thought, his mind drifts, one final goodbye.

—

You stand before him, head cocked, mouth curled in mischief. His skullplate sits on the desk after having gone missing for a few days (during which you swear you haven't seen it, of course not Lt!), now doodled with little pink ghosts. "Y' little shit." His hand snaps foward to snatch your collar, but you duck, snickering as you make for the door. [It washes off Lt! No, please! Uncle, uncle!]

—

[Ghost.]

"Hm?"

[Why do you wear the mask?]

He looks up, watching your face as you gnaw your lip. His tug up in a smirk. "To hide my face."

[Are you ugly?] The bluntness of your question almost makes him laugh. [It's alright if you are.] Sweet girl.

"Quite the opposite, love."

Something in his stomach flips at the sight of your face going red.

[Oh.]

He can't resist. "No' as pretty as yours, mind you."

You sputter as expected, and he does laugh.

[What do you look like?]

He pretends to think it over.

"Got a tattoo of the queens arse on m' left cheek," he says solemnly.

You choke, eyeing him and his inked arms speculatively before deciding he's full of shit.

He lets you believe what you will.

—

The dove-grey light of Sunday mornings filters through the blinds. Your eyes are filled with tears, body trembling with the force of your sobs. Simon wraps his arms around you, cheek pressed to your hair.

[I don't even have a name. I am nothing, it's like I don't exist.] He closes his eyes, searching for the words that will soothe this ache.

"Your name's Ripper. Ya ain't nothin', either. You're our best girl." It's the best he can do, offer placations, even if they are true. He hates that he can't do more.

[That's a not a name, Ghost, it's a callsign! I don't... I don't even know what my mother named me.] You're still for a few moments. [I... don't know if I have a mother.]  Simon rattles his brain for a way to make this right, something that can be a salve to your pain.

"How about... I give ya a real name? Somethin' other than what that bloody scot came up with." He doesn't think this will be enough, it's a stupid idea–

[What... would you name me?] Your eyes are on him, curiosity shining through the tears. Seems it was enough to distract you, for now atleast.

Humming, he contemplates. "I'll find somethin' that fits. Wait for inspiration an' all that."

[How will you know it's right?]

"I'll know, Rips. Promise."

—

Simon never did pick out that name.

He wonders what they'll put on your headstone.

[starry-hughes]

fake holiday date (luke hughes)

day 16 of star’s ficmas

luke hughes x reader

Luke hadn’t heard from you since he left for Tampa. When he left for Tampa for the Frozen Four, he decided to break up with you. It was a hard decision but he didn’t want it hard on you. But he was coming home to Michigan for the holidays and he got a text from you.

“I need help.”

Luke Hughes was still in love with you. He immediately called upon seeing your text. “Hello?” you answered. Your stomach was a pit of nerves. Even though you texted him, you still felt sick when he called. “Are you okay?” he panicked. “I need a date.”

He should have hung up but you were scrambling words together. “Luke, wait, please hear me out. I kinda never told my family we ended things, and they are expecting you at Christmas. Please, just like two hours.”

Luke was silent. He didn’t know what to say. You were still telling your family he was still your boyfriend? “Two hours. Just two hours,” Luke mumbled.

Luke and you were a good couple. Envied by friends, called mom and dad by his roommates, always together. You loved Luke and he loved you, it was the right person at the wrong time. Luke was your first love, the first boy you brought home.

He sat outside your house, in his car, wearing a red sweater. He told his parents and brothers he was seeing his friends. He texted you a simple “here.”

You exited the house and Luke sucked in a breath. You were still beautiful. Luke walked up, a secret gift folded in his pocket. “Thank you,” you whispered and leaned up and kissed his cheek. You pulled him into the house and he was met with the familiar warmth of your house. Memories of him and you on the couch watching movies or eating dinners with your family.

“Luke!” your mother greeted, wiping her hands on her apron. “Honey it’s been so long, I’m so sad (Y/N) didn’t bring you by the whole summer, she said you were training but was always seeing you.” Luke nodded and smiled. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around, missed you guys,” Luke lied.

You had coached Luke, saying he was so busy with training and that you still saw him over the summer, saying that you even went with the boys to see the game in Detroit. “How’s the season going?” your dad questioned. Your parents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and grandparents, and you and Luke eventually sat at the table for dinner.

Luke didn’t need to do it, but he placed his hand on your thigh, the two of you were a perfect couple. Your family all bought the act. After dinner, Luke even helped clean up before you dragged him up to your bedroom.

It was the same as the last time he saw it. Even your pictures of you and him still were hanging, probably to further your lie. Your stuffed animal sat on your bed and he smiled. “Thank you for coming, I didn’t think you’d actually answer my text.”

“I wanted to get away from Jack and Quinn anyway, they were annoying me,” Luke joked. “Why didn’t you ever tell your family?” Luke asked. You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “I didn’t want to tell them, they were disappointed when I changed my major. I didn’t want to tell them I lost my boyfriend too.”

He frowned. “I haven't dated anyone since you. My parents just think I was with you during the summer but I was really just driving around town or window shopping at stores,” you admitted. Luke opened his mouth to say something but shut it when his phone buzzed. He had been gone for three hours, his brothers and parents were wondering where he had gone. “I have to go,” Luke swallowed.

You walked him out, watching with a smile as he bid everyone a goodbye and walked him out to his car. “I hope your family is well and Jersey treats you well,” you whispered. “Have a good Christmas (Y/N).”

If Luke and you were still dating, he would have kissed you. You would have seen his parents for Christmas, messed with Quinn and Jack, it would have been all fine. “Bye Luke.”

You snuck past your family, wanting to go cry in your room. You missed Luke. You entered your childhood bedroom, but there was something on your bed. It was a folded piece of paper, from Luke. You slowly unfolded it. A plane ticket to New Jersey.