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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 19 days

Note

hello 🩷recently found and loved your account so i’m here to ask from you!!

criminal minds SSA aaron hotchner x reader

i’d love any explicit smut 😋

ideal trope(s) would be jealousy, established but secret relationship due to workplace like the whole thing stems from AH being jealous af that you’re getting hit on or smth and he can’t do shy about it in public but oh when ur home.. 👀👀👀

hahaha sorry the brain rot is real

thank you if you do this!!

and i hope u never stop writing i’ve been reading ur other posts too i love them sm

༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

— summary: your new relationship brings out a side of aaron that he had never seen before.

— warnings: established relationship, jealousy (obvi), unprotected sex, rough sex, teasing, couch sex, aaron lowkey bends you like a pretzel, heavy praise, he taps you on the cheek (lovingly ofc), implied creampie, consent king aaron!!, slightly insecure aaron, implied age gap but not specified, body massages and an implied size kink!

— wc: 2018

⋆ a/n: WOW a long smut fic, who would have thought? anywho, i'm trying to break free from posting headcanons because i just know they'll overtake this account. thank you for this request!

masterlist | AO3

Aaron felt his eye twitch.

His eye never twitches.

The culprit? The maintenance man that won’t stop talking to you.

He had so much paperwork he needed to complete, the stack of it had begun to tower, but Aaron couldn’t manage to get himself to focus on anything else but you.

Your relationship was fairly new, so you both had just agreed to keep it low-key for now. It wasn’t like you guys were lying, how could you when you were constantly surrounded by nosy profilers?

With new relationships came new feelings, and one of them he hadn’t felt since he was a young man somehow managed to resurface right under his nose: jealousy.

Yes, he had his moments of jealousy when he had first gotten with Hailey, but this? This was different. The age gap between the two of you wasn’t that large, but it was considerable enough that when he saw men closer to your age creeping around you, it always put him in a foul mood.

Like right now he just wants to storm down there and kiss you right in front of that stupid kid. The urge was primal and unfamiliar, and quite frankly it drove him insane.

Aaron was sure you hadn’t meant to come off as flirtatious, and who were your colleagues to step in if you looked genuinely interested in the guy? For all they knew you were single.

Oh, yeah, this was going to drive him over the edge, and it was all your fault.

It was safe to say you were excited when Aaron had decided to call it an early night, you just hadn’t expected him to jump on you as soon as you breached the threshold of your home.

He didn’t give you time to think or even put your things down, his briefcase followed along by your purse collapsed to the floor with a surprisingly loud thud!

Your lungs burned and your face was hot, heated between the two furnaces that were Aaron’s large and work-worn hands. You desperately clung onto the sleeves of his suit jacket, the material twisting between your fingers to keep yourself sturdy as he walked backwards.

“A- Aaron wha - what’s going on?” You pleaded breathlessly. You had to slightly shove the man away even though you were met with his uncharacteristic resistance. He just stood there and stared at you like a wild man, pupils dilated and chest rising and falling with every hastened breath he took.

He shook his head and blinked, like his thoughts were escaping him. Aaron couldn’t think when you looked at him like that; your lips kiss swollen with a light sheen of spit, your blouse covered breasts grazing his firm chest.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Was all he could say before reconnecting your lips.

He continues to walk backwards before the back of his calves meet the couch. He allows himself to drop down with a slight oomf, his needy hands tugging on yours encouragingly until you clambered onto his lap.

He didn’t give you time to show him any hesitancy, his palms gripping your hips firmly and all but holding you down against him. You gasped at the feeling, your fingers scratching at the shaved hairs on the back of his neck.

“Aaron! What has gotten into you?” The question was a flustered giggle. Aaron’s eyes casted to the side in a rare show of nervousness.

“It’s ridiculous.” He mutters. “I can bet you a million dollars that whatever you’re going to say isn’t as silly as you think it is.”

“It was that guy. The one that wouldn’t stop talking to you.” It took you a moment to think back on it before you finally understood what he meant. “The maintenance man? What about him?”

“He was flirting with you, and - I don’t know, it made me feel things I haven’t in a long time.”

Saying the actual word jealousy seemed so juvenile to Aaron; he was a grown ass man with a grown ass man job, so what right did he have to be acting like this?

“Oh.” It was long and drawn out. You felt a smirk begin to form on your face and you gently coaxed his eyes to meet yours. Aaron’s gaze was unsure.

“You know I’m yours, right? I don’t want anyone else that isn’t you, no matter how young, rich or tall.” Your hips begin to grind down on his and Aaron chokes back a groan. His grip on your flesh gets stronger and it draws a whimper out of you.

“Yeah?” He asks sensually, his voice a low purr. He aids in your grinding and your head grows fuzzy. “Yeah.”

He’s quick to reposition the both of you, your back now resting on the couch cushions. He kisses down your neck, nipping lightly at the skin there. It sends a shiver down your spine and your lower half canting up, desperately searching for friction.

Your hot cunt meets his knee. “Ah! Aaron.” You whined, fingers digging into his shoulders. Your boyfriend has one foot on the ground and the other wedged between your legs.

Aaron rises from your chest for a moment, shoving off his suit jacket and working the buttons on his shirt. You take it upon yourself to take your blouse off, arms reaching behind you to unclasp your bra with learned precision.

His eyes fall on your breasts and you could have sworn his movements gained a bit of franticness.

“Like what you see?” You couldn’t help but tease, your hands now working to shimmy your pencil skirt down your thighs. “Very much.” Aaron agrees with a lazy half smile. “Here, let me help.” You lift your hips up and he takes both your panties and skirt off at the same time.

The casual show of strength made your stomach clench, and you all but snatched Aaron by the back of his neck back down to your level. A noise of surprise escapes him and you take it as a chance to slip your tongue in his mouth.

Your body begins to heat up, his taking grabs and grips driving you insane.

“Fuck me.” You heave. Aaron pulls away from you, “Are you sure? You aren’t prepared well yet, and I don’t want to hurt you.” You smile softly. “As much as I appreciate your concern about me, I’ll let you know if there’s any discomfort, okay?”

Aaron thinks on your words for a moment, mulling them about in his brain before relenting at the feeling of your sweet, tempting hands stroking his bare chest.

“You always have to keep me on my toes, don’t you?”

“That was in the agreement.” You bite playfully. He snorts and rolls his eyes, but sits up once more to unbutton his pants.

With what feels like forever, he’s finally bare for your hungry eyes and clambering on top of you.

Resuming his old position, he wraps your legs around his waist, the tip of his cock poking at your slit. The two of you shiver at the feeling.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart? You know I don’t mind eating you out; I’m in no rush.” Your cheeks turn warm at his crudeness. “I’m sure, baby. I need you. Now.” With one final search of your face, he begins to push forward.

Your breath catches in your throat and you hold on to his muscular biceps. Your eyes flutter shut at the full feeling of him, your legs trembling and stomach tightening.

The first initial stretch hurts of course, but with a minute of laying there adjusting to Aaron’s size as he delivers very stimulating circles on your clit to distract you from the discomfort, you find yourself loosening up.

“Move.” You grunted quietly.

Aaron’s jaw is set tight, the vein in his forehead slightly bulging when he proceeds to thrust experimentally. Your lips roll in between your teeth to hold back the whorish moan that threatens to practically barrel out of you.

He does it again, and again, and again, until all of his self control is thrown out the window and the only thing he can think of is you; of how tight you are around him.

“It feels so good, baby. So, so good…” You babble, your hands reaching up to grip the armrest of the couch for more leverage. “I know honey, I know. ‘M gonna get deeper, okay?” Aaron groans. You nod wildly, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of your face.

He steadies himself on the knee placed on the couch, lifting your legs up so either one sits on his big, broad shoulders.

The change in position caused your back to arch, your mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ shape as you struggled to keep your head on straight.“Mphm! You’re so - you’re so deep.” You cried out, tears brimming on your eyelashes. “I know I am, baby. But you can take it right?”

“Mhm! I can! I know I can!”

“You can take it because you’re mine right? Because you’re my good girl?”

His praise pushes you dangerously close to the edge, and you’re honestly convinced that the crescent shape of your nails will leave an imprint on the material forever. The couch cushions stick to your skin like glue, the so of skin hitting skin resounded throughout the room lewdly.

A hand lightly slapped your face, your cheeks squeezed between his fingers, puckering slightly.

“I asked you a question, didn't I sweetheart?”

“You did, you did! ‘M sorry. ‘M your good girl, please.”

What you were begging for, you didn’t know; was it mercy? Was it a desperate call for your sanity? Whatever it was could wait, because you were going to cum.

“Gah! God, Aaron, ‘m gonna cum! Help me cum, please.” You begged again. “I got you honey.”

Aaron’s hand slithered down your body before landing on your clit, a calloused thumb drawing it around in firm circles. Your body moved and convulsed violently, your moans growing in volume – you’re sure you’re going to receive a noise complaint in the mail later.

That coil in your stomach threatened to snap, and all you could think to say was, “Cum with me?”

To be frank, Aaron was ready to cum a few thrusts before, but he was always one to prolong his pleasure if that meant satisfying you.

“Of - of course.” He stuttered, his dominance slowly slipping away from him.

Aaron bent forward just a little more to test how far he could push you, and though you were sure your muscles were going to ache when everything died down, but God, this was so, so worth it.

“F- fuck!” You swore as you came.

Everything disappeared for a moment besides the sound of Aaron’s guttural groan that sounded more like a loud, long-drawn-out whimper than anything when he came too.

You were slowly brought back to reality by Aaron massaging your sore muscles, gently twisting them and rubbing out any potential knots that threatened to form. You knew he'd disappear in a minute to grab something to wipe you down with, but you couldn’t seem to find it within your post orgasmic bliss to care.

“Mm, that’s nice.” You rasped, your eyelids fluttering open to face your disheveled boyfriend. His hair was all out of place in the best way possible, his bare body shining in a clear sheen of sweat. If you weren’t so tired, you think you’d jump straight to a round two.

“I’m sure,” Aaron’s voice was just as hoarse as yours. “I think I pushed your body a bit too far.”

“Don’t get started, Aaron.” You chided lightly. “It was perfect, okay? You were perfect. Now get up here.”

You dragged him from where he was and laid his body on top of yours.

“Down.” You demanded playfully. “I’m heavy, honey.”

“Don’t care.” You exaggerated the ‘don’t’ and pulled the rest of him down.

“I want to lay like this for a minute.”

“Alright,” Aaron nodded to himself. “I can do a minute.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

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2knightt · 2 months

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CANT HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER!!! i’m utterly obsessed with the curtis brothers.

idk if u do this, but if u can, the curtis brothers with a reader who’s super down bad for them? they make it so clear, too. constantly doing everything for them, making food, buying snacks, just utterly everything. compliments, holding their hand religiously … yk.

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ you know i’m a fool for you. ⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! you think the curtis brothers are the only men on the planet.

tags/warnings: swearing(on my end/once during dialogue.) reader being slightly overprotective or insane, mentions of reader getting hit on, mentions of reader leaving lip stick stains, me not knowing what to write for darry.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m using ny other accounts layout bc i can’t be bothered rn. also i’m here to feed y’all i’ve noticed the outsiders x reader tag is lowkey dry asl.

Ponyboy Curtis:

WOAH HE CAN’T HANDLE ALLAT😭

like actually. he is TWEAKING AT ALL TIMES! when you first like started complimenting him, showering him in kisses, giggling n’ shit—he thought it was a one time thing.

ponyboy just thought he’d have to thug that shit out once a week or something. he was, in-fact, pleasantly surprised when you continued to do it.

“you’re so-mwah-cute! i wish-mwah-i could-mwah-hold you forever!”

“y/n…😣”

he’s so flustered omfg like actually he’s beet red LMFAOOO. if you were to put your fingers to his forehead it’d be so hot. like ponyboy’s avoiding eye contact, his lips are tightened, etc.

if he were to stay the night at your place—you make him all types of food. like, food he’d never heard of. or food he’d dream about after eating bologna for a week,

“for me? …really?”

“mhm! c’mon, don’t let it get cold now.”

ponyboy is DIGGING RIGHT THE FUCK IN. okay he is SCARFING THAT DOWN. after he’d be a little embarrassed of how quickly he ate but like you just took it as a good thing.

thinks you’re the best cook ever tbh. gordan ramsey has nothing on you type levels.

going on a walk with him to go grocery shopping for the curtis house with your hands intertwined and letting ponyboy ramble about this annoying substitute he had!!! IT’S REAL!!! ALL OF IT!!!

“n’ then he tried to tell me my answer was wrong when i studied last night—I EVEN ASKED MY FRIENDS. so, i know it was right. i just think mr. johnson had a personal vendetta against me.”

“smh…i could do slash his tires if you’d like♡!”

“what”

“nothing.”

AWHHH PONYBOY FOLLOWING YOU AROUND THE STORE LIKE A LOST PUPPY BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO BUY LMFAO

he’d like holding your sleeve or the hem of your shirt as you walk around, looking more awkward above all else.

uwahh showering ponyboy in compliments late at night when it’s just the two of you, twirling his hair as you hold him closer!!!

“you’re hair is so pretty. it’s so soft…i dunno why you put grease in it. if i was you—i’d never let anyone touch it.”

“i don’t. i only let you.”

“…REALLY??🥰🥰😚😚”

ur friends are soooo sick of you talking about ponyboy LMFAOOOO like actually. every time you go, ‘omfg did i tell you guys, he-‘ they know to just let you mindlessly ramble.

“and then ponyboy read to me ‘til i fell asleep! he’s so sweet—i dunno how he’s real!”

“i dunno how you’re so whipped.”

“he must be the funniest motherfucker on the planet if y/n’s this obsessed.”

Sodapop Curtis

OHHH Y’ALL ARE AT A CONSTANT WAR TO SEE WHO’S GONNA BEAT THE OTHER AT BEING THE BETTER PARTNER LMFAOOO

HE’S usually the whipped one in the relationship…he felt both extremely lucky and threatened when you started attacking him with kisses…

“you’re so handsome. i’m just the luckiest person on earth—ain’t i?”

“…yeah…🤨”

“why’d you say it like that?😞”

“cause I’M the luckiest person on the earth…I’M supposed to be tellin’ you this…”

but as time goes on—he does take the loss and accepts you’re better at him. for now. it’s only a matter of seconds until sodapop thinks of something insane to show his love for you.

anyways! IMAGINE COOKING WITH HIM OHHHH NY GODDDDD /?:&$:&: he just mainly stands there and looks pretty as he asks what you’re doing but SHHH. HE’S MORAL SUPPORT.

“…what?”

“i’m chopping onions for the flavour, honey.”

“you don’t like onions, though?”

“i don’t like the crunch rather than the flavou—YOU REMEMBERED I DON’T LIKE ONIONS??☹️☹️”

“of course i would!”

gladly holds ur hand 24/7. i’m not kidding. you two are like super magnets. HEHEHE IMAGINE HIM DRIVING WITH ONE HAND ON THE WHEEL AND HIS OTHER HAND HOLDING YOURS!!/!2!

you do take him grocery shopping. only sometimes, though. he only buys junk food rather than actual food.

“can i get these? please?”

“you already have two bags of chips in the cart, soda.”

“okay..😣”

“SIGH…get them.”

“HURRAY!”

knows you can’t say no to him and that’s like the only time he uses it to his advantage.

soc’s do hit on you under the premise of ‘showing you how a real man is supposed to spoil a lady like you.’ HOWEVER, you look at them like they’re aliens.

“hey, baby. what’re you doin’ around here?”

“…EW.”

“???”

they’re shocked above all else as they see you turn away from them and quickly walk away without looking back. AND WOOO SODA IS SO PROUD.

Darry Curtis

the gang acts like you two are constantly fighting whenever you start to look at darry with that sparkle in your eyes.

“guys, PLEASE! YOU’RE BREAKING UP THE FAMILY! STOP ARGUING!”

“what the hell are you on about, soda?”

“you’re scaring pony!” “don’t bring me into this.”

“mind you’re own business, soda.”

AJDIEHJR DARRY HAVING A HAND AROUND YOUR WAIST AS YOU MUTTER SWEET NOTHINGS BETWEEN KISSINGS>>>

you two are a POWER COUPLE IN THE GROCERY STORE! EVEN IF YOU REFUSE TO LET HIM PAY AND HE GETS POUTTY! EVEN IF HE DOESN’T TAKE COMPLIMENTS WELL!

“y/n, please. these are for my house.”

“so?? my wallet was out first.”

“that doesn’t mean anything. baby, i’m telling you, i’m paying.”

“too late, i already handed the cashier the money.”

you cook and clean for the curtis’ to take something off of darry’s back out of the kindness in your heart and totally not because you want him to pay more attention to you!! NEVER!!

but you do enjoy the fact that darry has more time to sit down and pay attention to you! and darry really likes the extra time he has!!

“you didn’t have to.”

“yes i did! you’ve been so stressed out, it’s the least i could do for you.”

“you’re such a treat, y’know.”

“mh. only f’you.”

you FORCE him to hold your hand. sometimes he forgets that he’s supposed to hold your hand in public so do NOT BE AFRAID TO GRAB IT YOURSELF.

but once you do, darry is the last person to let go. maybe to wrap an arm around your hip—BUT THAT’S IT.

teehee leaving lipstick stains on his white t-shirt accidentally🫶🫶!! it’s all so real to me!! sure, darry’s a little annoyed but it’s okay! he can never be mad at you!

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis blurb #ponyboy curtis imagine #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop curtis blurb #sodapop curtis imagine #darry curtis x reader #darry curtis blurb #darry curtis imagine

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thesamoanqueen · 2 months

Text

Onlyfans

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut.

A/N: this one-shot showed up in my mind because of John Cena and me thinking impossible possibilities.

He usually bring it with him all the time, but at home he paid no attention. He had left it on the table to go and do something when the first notification had arrived. Y/N hadn't even looked up from her laptop, too busy with the program sent from Stamford the previous evening and which she was reviewing as always before sending it back to the office. Two minutes had passed and another notification had arrived. Roman hadn't shown up then either, but when the third had been followed by a fourth, Y/N had held out her hand with a sigh. She didn't want to pry, she didn't even want to know, she justs cared about making that sound stop to work in peace and let Roman know of whoever had that urgency to talk to him.

What had appeared on the screen, however, had made her put the laptop aside without thinking twice, pushing her to get up and find out what the hell was that stuff.

She couldn't believe her eyes, it was crazy.

When she found him, he was busy with a box full of old fitness equipments, smile ready as soon as she came into his sight.

- Hey gorgeous – he greeted her and Y/N stopped to look at him, her perfect handsome man.

- Is there something you want to tell me? – she asked, holding back to give him a chance.

Roman froze completely, his gaze serious, back straight.

- whats up? – she heard him ask, pretending he didn’t know or maybe not knowing for real, Y/N at that point was not sure anymore.

- I don't know, should I?! – she immediately echoed him, refusing to prolong that game to place his phone in front of him, the message he had received still open.

Leaving aside what were their habits as a couple, habits that had never displeased either of them as far as she knew, they had established from the first moment they would discuss everything, to be open-minded and fair with their feelings. They had been on a verge of a breakup because of an unspoken nonsense, they had learned from the past and since that moment there had been nothing they hadn't shared, bad moods, doubts, problems, fears. She trusted him, she wasn't obsessed with knowing what, where or who he was with, not even knowing what revolved around him and was proposed to him before, it had never even crossed her mind. She had chosen a man, a good real man, one who wanted a family, with no fear about serious relationship and without warning now she found out an Onlyfans notification on his phone? At home? While she was there working?!

- I didn't mean to watch, there could be anything in there, whatever, but here Ro? For real? and honestly If you have a reason or not, I thought we were better than this- she said, unable to hold back any longer and immediately saw his expression change, an amused smile replacing his worried expression.

- Babygirl, slow down. We got no problem, there's nothing in there I want, trust me. I don't care about that stuff, its shit, I’d never do it when I’ve you – he winked, trying to pull her into a hug, but more he laughed more she tensed.

- ‘kay then what?!

- You know, John did it, an account… boys at work were joking, saying that I should make one too. Locker room chatter, bullshit, sometimes they still get me involved.

Surprised, she looked at him speechless, turmoil quickly slipping away, while his information created a strangely valid picture in her mind about possibilities.

John was a funny dude, strange at times and that stunt had actually made the news. She had seen some clips online, nothing R-rated as one might imagine, but she hadn't connected the two things. And she had never even thought that someone might have thought of doing it, even though she knew of Roman's fame among the fans, rumors, fantasies and the whole package on the most unlikely platforms. In some way it was her job to know what people thought about wwe’s top guy and she played with it to for promotion.

- A real onlyfans – she repeated flatly, staring at him and he gave her one of his billion dollar smiles.

- I'm quite successful, it might work – he joked and she reflexively batted her eyelashes, unable to control herself because yes, he was damn right.

People went absolutely crazy for a few well planted cameras shots, a couple of hits not so family friendly in his ring promos and that salt and pepper in his beard, a video or an entire onlyfans account would not have been simply successful, would have unleashed the apocalypse into the wrestling community. During the production phase, behind the scenes, she too had relied on certain shots, specific set-ups, because she knew they would work. There were things that she too was obsessed with despite having him as her in real life partner. If Roman would have really decided to do it, something direct, focused, if he didn't hold back…

The thought made her turn around, going back without another word.

-Y/N – Roman called her, trying to hold her, but she didn't let him do it, quickly marching towards the front door closet where she kept her purse always ready.

She knew Roman had followed her, sensing heavy footsteps behind her as she walked through the house, but when she finally started to reach for what she needed, his hand tightened around her wrist, physically stopping her from doing anything. He gave her a deadly serious look, his gaze dark as she broke free.

- Y/N it was a bad joke, ain’t gonna happen, don't take it that far – he reasoned, standing there as if no one could move him, searching her eyes.

Those brown eyes that would have made anyone's knees tremble, that had made her tremble too an infinite number of times and for the most absurd reasons, at the right times and not, everywhere, always, from the first moment, without exceptions and that now she saw slowly widen, confused, as she handed him what she had taken out of her jacquemus.

-Here – she offered, her personal credit card ready.

Roman stared at it stunned and Y/N knew she had caught him off guard, because that card never left her purse if he was around, he didn't like when it happened even though she was proudly independent he liked to play the role of her provider. With a deep breath, seeing him froze, she decided to take out the second one, adding it to the first and moving closer to slip them into his pocket.

- Let’s say you can have both, but the show is exclusive – she specified, as if they were really in a negotiation and at that last hint she felt him suddenly explode into laughter.

He throw his head back, perfect teeth showing, eyes crinkling, making every inch of his chiseled face smile.

- Someone woke up possessive – he pinched her when he was finally able to speak again and Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, letting him have that little win.

He didn’t like if someone was too close to her, if someone stared in a way or another, when they hadn't yet been in an official relationship Y/N had witnessed scenes of pure testosterone that would have made anyone run and even today he showed no signs of loosening his grip. She had found the notification of a site notoriously inclined towards certain ratings, messages with it, she hadn't worked entirely on her imagination, but were clearly details his ego ignored, too happy to have caught her.

-If your intention is to keep laughing, I'll take them back – she stopped him, stretching out her hand again to retrieve them, but as soon as she took them off, Roman grabbed her wrist.

- For you the show is free, just ask ma'am

His voice was velvetly soft, as was the touch of his thumb stroking her caramel skin. With eyes fixed on hers, she couldn't hold back a smile, seeing Roman return it immediately when he pushed her against the door.

- Then show me sir – she whispered and he twisted his head, making her giggle before lifting her up.

With legs wrapped around his hips, he carried her to the couch to place her between cushions like a precious thing, a rebellious lock hanging out of the bun. He stood there waiting, hands placed next to her, but deliberately not where he should, his whole body close, but not close enough and for a moment Y/N did nothing but admire him.

He was a charming man, the kind of man who captured attention even without anything special or fancy, he made her hands itch and her stomach flutter like the first time she had touched him and she had no longer been able to let him go. It wasn't just the appearance, but rather his attitude, his attentions, they were a drug, they were addictive and the idea of having them all to herself, having him when out there people would do anything to have a crumb of what she had, it made her feel special, in charge.

-You're playing a dangerous game – he warned her, eyes hovering over her full lips.

-Im pretty sure I can handle it – she replied, her breathing slowing as she saw him bend more.

-I know exactly what you can handle babygirl – he touched her with his nose, with that lock and Y/N felt the taste of him on her, even if Roman had kept himself at a sufficient distance not to kiss her.

From the couch, Y/N watched as he straightened up and grabbed the hem of his tank to pull it up. Her eyes went hopelessly down his body, looking in religious silence at every inch of his torso, as he undressed with unnatural calm. She watched the abs pop out even without oil to accentuate them, broad pecs, dark tattoo that stood out against tanned skin, those lines that she drew with her fingers whenever she could. And then the arms, bent to pass the shirt beyond his neck to which she used to cling, those arms that she scratched as if her very life depended on them, capable of hurting and carrying her around effortlessly, shaped by years of practice and dedication. Her pulse racing, she saw him turn to put away his shirt, showing her his broad back, his sculpted shoulders as he rolled them back to face her and let his hair down. She watched Roman run his long fingers through the messy locks, trying to fix them during that impromptu striptease in the living room, in broad daylight and anything could have happened, someone even broke into the house and Y/N would not have flinched, focused as she was on him.

He was slow, unnerving. What she would do quickly, throwing everything away, he did in slow motion, to push her desire, make her savor everything, drive her completly crazy. Every gesture seemed to require effort, every action was like a ritual, a video wouldn't have done him justice, he was directing a movie and she was the spectator unable to distract herself while his fingers loosened the knot of his shorts to make them hang on the hips. Enraptured, she followed his usually hidden v, focusing on the portion of skin he was revealing and that left no doubt about what was down there. Concentrated, she clenched her legs without hiding, heartbeat racing as he fill the space between them, a dangerous intense shadow on his eyes that made Y/N hold her breath.

- Why you so silent now sweetheart? – he asked, stopping a step away from her, looking down and Y/N raised her head, body tingling as she felt him tower above her.

-Im ejoying it… no words needed – she breathed innocently, reaching out a hand tentatively and Roman bent over once again following the wandering of fingers playing with his lace, tongue running on his lips.

- Hmm no, I think we need a reaction… feedbacks you know, for that onlyfans stuff

His voice, breathing caused another series of shocks through her, the desire to crash her mouth against him, suffocate in one of their kisses, feel his big hands ravaging her now almost unbearable. Roman locked her wrist once more, his grip hard enough to make Y/N throb where she was probably already a mess, preventing her from exploring more than she should, eyes going back into hers, digging, guiding her where he wanted, only where he let them.

-Its good – she admitted without rebelling, unable to concentrate on anything than those two brown pools that seemed to swallow her.

- Just that? – he asked, pinching her face with his hair and Y/N tilted her head, intercepting the trajectory of his lips with greed.

-More than good – she mewed, leaning forward and feeling him guide her to his erection, never breaking eye contact, avid more than ever on having her undivided attention.

- Not enough for me

Under her fingers, Y/N felt his boner awake, hard and she risked something more, a more intense touch, hoping to convince Roman to let her do something, but it lasted just a moment and he pushed her away, standing up straight again to do it himself. Y/N knew what to expect, she knew what Roman was hiding, and yet when he lowered his pants enough to release his erection and took it into his hand, Y/N couldn't hold back a gasp to the mere sigh of his delicious flesh. She saw him so proud, spit obscenely and his smile quickly turn into an arrogant grin enjoying his attentions in front of her who was now struggling to stay still.

Was the kind of show she was sure many people would sell their souls along with their houses for and that even her, despite knowing Roman's abilities, couldn't say was immune. She wasn't immune at all honestly and when he curled his mouth, carried away by the increasing euphoria, eyes still fixed on her, letting go an excited growl, Y/N jumped on her knees.

-Gawd com’here– she moaned sulkily before crashing her lips on him and Roman laughed at her kissing, his hand finally leaving his now tense erection to keep himself balanced.

-That's a feedback – he approved, watching her quickly undress beneath him.

And Y/N might have replied but her body was begging her to put an end to that game, get some relief and before Roman could decide otherwise just for playing around, she pulled him better on top, wedging his brawny body between her thighs. With one hand on his dark locks and the other feeling his cock, she slowly bit his lip asking with pleading eyes and he pushed himself into her palm, tongue ready to invade her mouth. She moaned against him, letting him move his hips, enveloped in the heat of him, in that tantalizing smell of his skin, lost in the exquisite taste of his mouth, until she heard Roman growl and only then she guided him where wanted. None had touched her, neither him nor herself and yet she felt him slip between her juicy folds with ease, in a feral curse that made her cry and pushed him to bite her neck. Holding her hip he enstablished a pace to fuck her opposite of his striptease, messy, rough, domineering, every thrust crushed her down, nailing her mercilessly and making her sweatin agony.

Sometimes she felt like she was a toy in his hands, but she liked that kind of treatment, more when they had already wasted enough time with other games and the thought of someone else wanting that attention was still in the back of her head. She ran her nails down his forearms, marking him, holding on with ragged breath, gasping with mouth open, as he grunted into the crook of her neck, sinking into her dripping pussy in a concert of obscene sounds. And in the throes of her ecstacy, Y/N made her hands roam over his massive back, over his strong neck, even over his ass contracted in the effort to pound her wildly.

She felt a well known fire building suddenly in the bottom of her belly, uncontrollably, like a wave of pure bliss when Roman pushed himself deeper, lifting without mercy her thigh over his shoulder to get a better angle, his balls slapping against her soft skin and she squirmed crying in pleasure. His grip became more possessive, almost to prevent her from run, even though she was now just a weeping mess, folds pulsing and gripping around his dick, heat growing for what was now a marvelous attack until the delirium reached her head.

- R-Roo… ple-aase…

- Ssh come for me… let it go, you wanted it cmon good girl -

One stroke and another, on that sweet lovely spot, his skin rubbing against her hot clit and Y/N closed her eyes, curling beneath him, her mind white, blank and ì mouth open without a sound to leave her soul. She felt him leave a sweaty kiss on her cheek, continue tenaciously to prolong her sensation and also lift her other leg, aiming it in a shameful, vulgar position to conquer his climax now. Stunned by her orgasm, she watched him with passionate eyes, his expression focused, body tense and furious in the last effort and Y/N placed her forehead against his, holding him in place, tightening with a sob around his cock, folds trembling. With all his weight pinning her down, he willingly went for a couple of thrusts, deep, rough, his breathing more and more heavy until it was enough for him too and Y/N pulled him against her neck, feeling every muscle of his thick body tense and his cock twitching until it fills her up.

As always, he got stuck inside her, refusing to come out until he stopped jerking, hands gripping her soft hips tenaciously to keep her in place and only when nothing was left anymore, he freed her, collapsing though against the couch headboard to pull her against him in a sweaty hug, while they caught both their breath. They probably should have rushed to take a shower, but Y/N wasn't in a hurry and he didn't seem to be either, leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder.

- I was thinking… - she began, sore but with her fingers tracing his arm anyway.

- Gimme ten minutes and we'll do another live

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @joannasteez @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @spritelucozade

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rorywritesjunk · 5 months

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No longer locked upon the land but free on the rolling waves

You and Buggy come face to face with himself from the past, and while you’re fully accepting that this is your husband as a child, Buggy doesn’t want to accept it.

Rating: PG-13ish, but just due to some swearing.

Warning: Upset kid, upset husband. Reader is way too nice, doesn’t necessarily take husband’s feelings into account as well.

A/N: A combined request. I did a few versions of this story before feeling like it hit the marks I was wanting to hit. Also, I’m just trying to vibe off what I’ve seen of Kid Buggy. I’m no expert. I’d protect that kid with my life. He’s so adorable. I also like the trope of “Meeting your self from another time” and “gets turned back into kid-self”. This is the former, and I know shit about time travel but I just kind of made something up.

This is the last chapter with the epilogue at the end. This has been a lot of fun to write and I've enjoyed it so much, thank you all for reading it and replying! I've loved responding to you all. So thank you thank you thank you. I liked how this chapter wrapped things up. Moments go a little quick but that was the intention. Nothing was to really be drawn out.

Title comes from “Sailing Song” by S.J. Tucker.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6/Epilogue

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @misadventures0fdes @sylum @valen-yamyam16 @dohkyu @fluffybunnyu @skyofsteel @lavalampskyy @gingernut1314 @ane5e @madam-o @the-angriest-angel

Chapter Six

Your husband decided to stay back on the ship while you and the kid went into the town. His excuse was he needed to get the crew ready or something, but you didn’t push him for a real reason. Part of you wanted him with you when you went into town because you didn’t know what to expect. Would some kind of portal open up and tear the kid away from you, kicking and screaming, or would it happen in an instant, like when he first appeared? You were going to cry either way, you just wish you had some kind of idea of what to expect.

But you also didn't want Buggy coming because again, what if some portal opened up and tore your husband away from you as well as the kid? You didn't want him disappearing on you at all so you just gave him a kiss on the cheek before heading off the ship with the kid.

“I think that the table was over here.” Kid Buggy said as he held your hand, leading you down a street. You knew what he was looking for but you let him take charge, wondering if he knew here to look. The table wouldn’t be there anymore, it hadn’t been since you turned 14 and left to start your apprenticeship and your parents moved elsewhere. They still made jewelry and sold it, but in another town on another island.

It was hard not to tell him everything, because even though Buggy said he doesn’t remember anything about this whole ordeal, what if this was different? What if something was triggered that changed the course of the kid’s life from this moment forward? You didn’t want to take the risk. You loved your life, your husband, and the life you two had together. Nothing could change that, so you never told Kid Buggy that he stole from your parents, or that he would become a Devil Fruit user at a young age (he never questioned Buggy’s head popping off his body during their first meeting), nor did Buggy ever tell him what happened between him and Shanks.

“You think so?” You replied as you followed after, smiling down at him as he turned his head in every direction, a look of concentration on his cute face as he tried to remember where to go. He stopped a few times, looking around, wondering where to turn. You were patient, giving his hand a squeeze whenever he’d start walking again.

“I’d bring you back with me if I could, y’know.” Buggy said as he looked up at you. “Introduce you to everyone. They’d think you were great.” He then looked away, searching for the table of merchandise that no longer existed. “But I know you wouldn’t wanna come with…”

“If I could come back to my husband in the end, I would.” You assured him with a smile. “But you’ve seen how you are as an adult, you can’t survive ten minutes without me, so I have to stay back with him.” Truthfully, if you met the crew, you would have brought hell down upon them. While your husband would speak highly of being an apprentice under Gold Roger, you had other opinions, ones that you wouldn’t share because you didn’t want to upset Buggy. There was always something under the surface whenever you listened to your husband speak about it. The self-doubt, fear of failure, everything, and one time when he was drunk he cried about Shanks, often feeling lesser than his friend, but then the next morning as he sobered up he would curse the same man.

“Yea?” He grinned. “Really? I think you’d like it. You could even meet Shanks, since you said you never got to meet him.”

“Maybe something will happen and I can someday, Buggy.” You steered him out of the main walkway, letting people pass as you knelt down in front of him. “I want you to know that I have loved spending time with you, sweetie. It’s been one of the best things ever.”

He blushed at that, avoiding your gaze as he looked away. “Are you saying goodbye to me?”

“No! Not yet, just…” You hesitated. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention, the praise, compliments, affection even. You wanted to give him as much as you gave your husband because you saw the way he would brighten up when you’d tell Adult Buggy how handsome he looked in his coat while you’d straighten his cravat, or when you’d let him know how much you loved him every night before going to bed. You meant every word you spoke to Buggy as an adult, and you wanted him to know the same as a kid. “I want you to know you’re a wonderful kid, Buggy.”

He was still red in the face but he allowed you to wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He mumbled something in response and you didn’t quite hear it, because he suddenly pulled away from you, his eyes lighting up in excitement.

“I can hear Shanks!” He said as he looked over your shoulder. “I think he’s calling for me!”

You turned in the same direction but didn’t see or hear anything. What was going on? He grinned at you before he suddenly took off running in the direction he was looking. You got to your feet and started after him, but he was fast. He turned down an alleyway, calling for Shanks, and when you finally caught up to him your heart dropped. It was a dead end and he was nowhere in sight.

So this is how it ended then.

You came back to the ship an hour later and went right to your room, ignoring the looks of the crew and even your husband. He noticed you were alone, so he told the first mate to keep an eye on things while he went after you. Buggy wasn't sure how upset you would be, because even after ten years of marriage he wasn't sure how to handle it.

He found you sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with something in your hand. Buggy hung his coat and hat up before taking his boots off and climbing into bed next to you. You immediately leaned into him, curling up against his side as he put his arm around you.

“I'm going to miss seeing you as a kid.” You sniffled, looking at the once stolen pendant in your hand. “You were so sweet, Buggy.”

“I was a little shit.” He rolled his eyes, clearly having a different opinion on the whole matter. You looked up at him with watery eyes and he sighed. “Fine, yes, I was a sweet little shit.”

“I just wanted you to feel safe and loved, Buggy.” You wiped at the tears as they rolled down your cheeks. “And you're not going to remember any of it. What was the point of any of this?”

He just shrugged, pulling you closer as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He wasn't really good at using words to comfort you. He was used to actions like giving you gifts or finding ways to make you laugh instead. He hated seeing you so upset, but he knew better than to tell you to suck it up and move on. The one time he said that to you ended up with you giving him the cold shoulder for a week and he couldn't deal with that again.

“I just wanted you to be okay, Buggy.” You mumbled as you tucked the pendant away in your pocket. “I hate you went through so much before we met.” You rubbed your eyes. “And…and you're not going to remember any of this.”

“Yea, well…” He hated saying sappy things, like something out of a silly romance novel. He sighed and gritted his teeth. “If I didn't become an apprentice and continue being a pirate, we wouldn't have met.” You glanced up at him and his cheeks started to turn red. “The kid will be fine, because he will meet some way too nice tailor, fall madly in love with her and be an idiot about it, and she will show him all the love he will ever need.” He huffed and pulled his arm away from you, crossing them over his chest as he looked away. He felt a little uncomfortable but he knew you needed to hear this. “And when they hug for the first time he'll remember a moment of feeling safe as a kid but he won't know why, and when they kiss for the first time it will make him realize how much he wants her in his life.” He took a deep breath and exhaled before scowling. “Okay? So… so the kid won't remember what you did for him but he'll have a sense of familiarity when he meets his future wife, because she treats him with kindness and never asks for anything in return, and he really doesn't deserve someone like her.”

When he was finished with his rant he looked down at you, only to be horrified when he saw new tears streaming down your cheeks. Oh shit. He didn't mean to make you cry.

“S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-” He was at a loss for words. “Why are you-”

“R-Really?” You whimpered. “You felt that way when we met?”

He turned even redder if possible, unsure if he should keep talking or not, but you were almost smiling now as the tears rolled down your cheeks so he sighed and nodded.

“Y-Yes.” He said, looking away from you once more. “I… I knew the moment you gave me a hug that you and I were meant to be, because I felt safe in your arms and… and you took good care of me even before we started our relationship.” He scratched his cheek, looking so very uncomfortable to be carrying on like this, but your crying was letting up and you were looking at him with such love in your eyes that he thought he was going to literally fall to pieces in front of you. “Fixing my coat, clothes, even my gloves. It… it was nice and you didn't have to do that because I wasn't the nicest person to you at times, y’know.”

“I fixed your gloves just to spend extra time talking to you.” You said, giggling as you wiped your eyes with the hem of your shirt. He looked at you in confusion. “I made it up that your gloves needed fixing. I just… wanted to spend time with you after fixing other things, and you didn't know what I was talking about so you let me.” You smiled brightly at him. “I lied because I liked you, Buggy.”

His jaw dropped, a look of betrayal on his face. “What?! You lied?!”

You laughed. “What? I liked seeing your hands without them, honey, because you always wore them. That was the first time I felt your hands without gloves on, you know.”

“I can’t believe you lied!” He wouldn’t drop that tiny detail. “After all this time you lied about my gloves needing to be fixed?”

You knew what he was doing, trying to distract you from being upset, and you appreciated it. It still hurt having the kid disappear so quickly out of your sight but it was a comfort to hear from your husband the little bits he could recall, even if it wasn’t exact moments of his time with you. You didn’t want him to be hurt, or go through the heartaches of growing up, but if it meant the two of you meeting and falling in love, then maybe you could accept that you couldn’t fix everything.

“I love you, Buggy.” You told him as you leaned over to kiss his cheek. He turned red and looked away again but he put his arm back around you, pulling you closer to him before he looked back at you.

“Yea, yea.” He kissed you on the forehead and sighed. “I love you too.”

~*~*~

“Buggy! Where’ve ya been?” One of the older crewmen asked. Buggy didn’t turn around, instead looking at his now empty hands. Where did the pendant go? He just snatched it off that table and he had it in his hands just moments ago, but now it was missing. Did he somehow drop it? “It’s been twenty minutes, kid! Don’t take off like that!”

He glared up at the man. “Not my fault you can’t keep up with me!”

The man just laughed and patted him on the head; the kid immediately swatted at his hand, trying to get him to stop. He didn’t take off running, he had just been with the crew and then it seemed like everything went still for a moment. He didn’t want to say anything so he kept quiet, trailing after the adult as they went to join up with the others.

“We weren’t too worried, y’know. Figured you’d turn up once you got hungry.”

Buggy just nodded, glaring at the ground as he walked along. It’s not like he disappeared or anything. He was just out of sight for a few minutes. Shanks and him did it all the time.

They were walking down the street that the vendor was on where he took the pendant from. Did they somehow get it back? He hesitated but risked taking a look as they walked by. The adults were talking to a customer, showing off pieces while a girl around Buggy’s age sat nearby, looking completely bored. When their eyes met she perked up a bit and gave him a big smile. Buggy made a face and looked away but the adult he was with noticed the exchange and laughed.

“Flirtin’ with the local girls, Buggy?”

“Shut up!” He snapped. “Let’s get back to the ship!”

“Don’t you want to say bye to your girlfriend?” He teased as Buggy glared at him, his face red. He was about to say something else when something tugged on his sleeve. He spun around, ready to fight, but froze when he saw the girl standing there, holding a flower in her hand with a big smile on her face.

“The red flower looks like your nose.” She told him as she took his hand and placed the flower in it. “I like it.”

Buggy didn’t say anything as his hand closed around the flower. He was frozen where he stood, not sure how to respond to that, but the moment didn’t last because she turned and went back to her parents, taking her seat near the table once more. He didn’t know what to say or do next, but the adult grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him along, laughing and joking about young love and other stupid shit Buggy didn’t care about. He stuck the flower in his pocket and looked back at her once more, his face still as red as his nose. She was watching him leave and gave him a smile and wave as he left.

Yea, okay, he decided she was kind of nice, but he wouldn’t see her again so there was no point in saying hi to her or asking her name.

It was just a one time meeting by chance.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy x oc #buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 1 month

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because this has been on my mind wrapping up the epilogue, here is a little story about how writing fanfiction for very silly sometimes awesome sometimes genuinely terrible SYFY show the magicians changed my life for real.

i started writing help, i’m alive in may 2020. as i have stated many times on this blog, the overarching goal from which this story sprung was my passionate desire to give quentin coldwater each and every last thing he deserved: i wanted to follow him all the way through a downward spiral, and then i wanted to figure out what it would take for him to climb out of the darkness and make it to somewhere he actually wanted to be. the first part of that, the part that became damage control, was some of the easiest writing i’ve ever done, even accounting for the hours spent google mapping the most depressing road trip of all time. the second part was harder, and not just because it wound up being more than four times as long (lmao). it was thornier; there were more threads to weave through; and, frankly, quentin was so fucked up that it took a lot of effort even to outline what it was he needed in order to change. i had written one story already in which the pivot happened entirely internally, an act of self-forgiveness that proved transformational, and i knew that this time i needed to give him more: actual wants, actual actions, an actual life, with actual ties not just to the people already in his circle but to the world beyond. once i had that outline, the first four chapters flowed pretty easily, anchored by the goal of hitting the story’s first big win, which is when quentin finds a way to fix something for the first time since his magic broke; chapter five was where i got stuck.

by that point, it was fall. i had quit my teaching job mid-pandemic with some modest savings, no back-up plan, and a growing realization that after five years in the classroom, teaching was no longer something i could see myself returning to; working obsessively on this story was, among other things, a great way to quiet the constant humming freak-out of what the fuck i was going to do with my life. in october doing some jump squats after sitting in bed all day i threw my back out so badly i couldn’t walk to the bathroom unassisted and paid a hundred dollars to talk to a telehealth doctor for fifteen minutes for some muscle relaxants. the pain sucked, but so did not knowing whether i was going to be better by election day — i’d signed up to be a poll worker, and i really could have used the money.

i’d started dipping my toe in some local volunteer stuff when i quit, but it was during this time that i signed up for the first time for a particular project i was really excited about joining. i did the zoom training with my camera off because my back still hurt too much to sit up; the follow-up involved scanning and emailing some personal documents and signed agreements. i didn’t do it the next day because, whatever, my back fucking hurt; i didn’t do it the day after that because…? and then, well — then i started feeling like i had missed my chance, and it was too late now.

now, here’s the thing: i say feeling like because by this point i had learned enough about the world that i knew — like, knew — that, objectively, taking a few days to send an email (during a pandemic, while i was having previously established health issues) is not considered by most people to be an unforgivable crime. i knew that i should still send the email. and i also had learned enough about myself that i could actually recognize the thing happening in my brain as an example of the kind of overly self-protective mechanisms in which i have many years of practice; i knew by then that i was an absolute expert at finding reasons to not do things that felt like they were based in truth but were really just cleverly disguised manifestations of fear, because if you do things then bad things might happen, but if you don’t do things then nothing bad happens, except that you ruin your own life. i knew all of this!! i could diagnose and analyze exactly how i was once again perpetuating the same anxiety-driven patterns that had governed so much of my life. i was conscious of the workings of my own unconscious. but i still couldn’t bring myself to send the fucking email. instead i was spending 16 hours a day alternately lying in bed and gingerly pacing in my apartment to regain mobility, feeling like shit about the fact that i wasn’t sending the email and also trying fruitlessly to unpack whatever was going on in chapter five.

the election came five days into this mess, and i did feel well enough to go work the polls. this was a great way to experience election 2020, by the way; i had to leave my apartment at like 3:30 in the morning and by the time the returns started coming in i was too delirious to have any emotions about them whatsoever. it was also, not to be a shill for electoral politics, genuinely kind of inspiring: all these people lining up to Do Democracy, the deployment of translators to assist across languages, the columbia undergrad from the neighborhood we were in i was paired with at the info desk who told me he wanted to go into politics and said very seriously, upon hearing i had a friend in the grad school there, “you should tell them to join the union.” plus, you know, the high of doing something, surrounded by other human beings, at a time when that sort of thing had been in short order for the work-from-home crowd for months, and i personally had recently been confined to my bed for several days.

leaving the site that night, entering my twentieth consecutive hour awake, i felt this weird mix of spiritually rejuvenated and psychologically worse. i had just lived through this physical proof of how doing things is both not that scary and kind of awesome, i had spent a day living in alignment with the kind of person i wanted to be, i felt a fresh rush of love for my city and its people — and i still couldn’t imagine sending the fucking email! it was like i was looking at the thing i wanted most through a pane of glass, and the glass was actually really easy to break, so the only thing stopping me was that i was too much of a baby to do it.

and the thought that i had then, i fucking swear, was: i would be such a fucking hypocrite if i wrote quentin coldwater into a happy ending i’m too cowardly to give myself.

which is, first of all: SOOOOOOOO corny, like omg. unbelievably cringe. embarrassing as hell. but it was also my truth at that moment in time. i had no faith in my own ability to change, but i had spent five months and counting thinking about almost nothing else except the story i was writing in which quentin also has no faith in his ability to change but is brave enough to do it anyway, and i really felt like — i could not live with myself putting these ideas out into the world and refusing to integrate them into my own life. i could not write this promise that something better was possible for quentin if i wasn’t even going to try to make it possible for me. i could, apparently, live forever with my constant self-sabotage, but i couldn’t live with myself making this story a lie (this story being, again, fanfiction for a TV show that was, at its best, so great, and also, at its worst, so, SO stupid).

and like… that worked. i emailed the documents the next day; i attended my first monthly zoom meeting that weekend, during which the election was officially called, which felt like a good omen. i summoned the idea that had presented itself to me that night — don’t be a hypocrite! do what you would want quentin to do! — again a while later when my email got lost in the shuffle and i had to send a check-in following up, and again every other time something came up where my fear had to war it out with my desire. (or, well, most other times — it's a work in progress, and yes, i do still find myself calling upon this logic to this day.)

my life now looks more like the happy ending i wrote quentin into than it did almost four years ago, when i started this story, or even three years ago, when i finished it. it looks more like that future than i ever imagined my life could look when i was writing it, and not just because, as i have mentioned before, a few weeks after my election night revelation, i did do as quentin did and befriend a community-minded extrovert who invited me to join a book club. even the fact that the final part of the epilogue has taken me so much longer than expected is a funny case of life imitating art, because while i have had work and illness and travel and general life stress, i have also had many days in the past few months where i was not very productive because i was simply too busy doing something fun — the kind of never-quite-solved balancing act quentin was set to deal with in the epilogue back when i first started kicking it around, well over two years ago at this point, but which was not really applicable to my own life until basically now. and it sounds even to my own ears so, so, so insane to say this, but it’s true: i can trace every aspect of that shift to the fact that i wrote this story, and that writing it fundamentally changed something inside me for the better. (shout-out to the people in the comments who noted that the story was, in a meta sense, my own version of quentin’s coffee maker; i knew you were right, but i don’t think i knew how right until this recent bout of reflection.)

i don't really know that there's a take-away here, because "quit your job and write four hundred thousand words about a weird TV show with a niche audience" is not exactly universally applicable advice. but if i were to try to find one, i think it would be something like: i felt really crazy and kind of embarrassed the entire time i was writing this story, not because i was writing fanfiction, or because it was incredibly horny and wildly self-indulgent, but because it mattered to me so, so deeply. it was one thing to have a fun goofy hobby, even a fun goofy hobby i took semi-seriously and poured a lot of time and effort into, but it was another to actually, like, care, and to care a lot, which i did. but if i hadn't accepted that this story mattered to me, i don't think it could have been as personally transformational as it wound up becoming. the heart wants what it wants, and you're only going to find out what that is if you're willing to listen to whatever rhythm it beats.

i solved chapter five on the way home from the poll site, by the way. i knew there needed to be some problem with quentin’s first semi-successful attempt to mend the coffee maker, but i couldn’t figure out how it tied in thematically with where he was in his life. on the bus it hit me: quentin and the coffee maker were both trying to remain unbreakable. an appealing idea if you’ve been broken, but one more conducive to stagnancy than to growth; you can stay there for a while, but eventually you need to let yourself want more.

#writing tag #the magicians #isabel 2k24

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b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 5 months

Note

hello! I’m a big fan of your jackass fanfics and I have a request. What if Knoxville and reader just had a baby (reader is in the jackass crew) and they bring the baby on set and surprise the boys??? Sorry if this is too long 😭😭 anyways love ya bye 😘🫶🏽

Baby on Board

Y/N and Johnny bring their son on set one day, not realizing what chaos may erupt!

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

820 Words

Warnings: None! :)

An: Thank you for the request!! Your request was not too long at all and I really enjoy long requests in general! ;) Anyways, as a warning I have been around very few babies in my life besides in passing, much less responsible for one, so I hope this is all accurate to real baby behavior! As a side note I’d like to thank you all for getting me to 100 followers! This probably deserves it’s own post but I just want to say that I’m so happy so many people enjoy what I write! I would love to do some sort of special or unique fic to come rate, so please send me any and all requests! :)

“So…that’s your baby?” Steve peered curiously at the little human in Johnny’s arms. He chuckled a little, “Well, it’s more Y/ baby. She did all the work- I just made a deposit at the bank.” It was a slow day on set, so you and your husband decided to bring in your new baby to meet the guys. You didn’t really know what to expect, but you were pleasantly surprised as your son reached out a little hand to Steve and his eyes went wide. It was no mystery that he hated babies in general, on account of their propensity for being doorstops that shit and cried, but for some reason this was different. Johnny noticed his reaction and cracked a smile, “If you want, you could hold’em.”

He nodded but didn’t really seem to know what to do after Johnny handed him over, just sort of holding your baby like this precious, fragile thing in his arms. It was sweet, in a way. While he was busy marveling, a production assistant came up and tapped Johnny on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear before trying to hurriedly usher him and you away to something or other that needed to be attended to on set. Johnny quickly turned to Steve as he walked away, “Hey, we’ll be back in five! Think y’could watch him?” There really wasn’t any way he could say no. “Uh, sure, I guess…?” Of course, that was the exact moment your son pooed all over him.

Maybe he wasn’t wrong about babies being doorstops that shat. Though he still looked calm, Steve’s eyes had a trace of panic behind them as he nervously looked around for someone on set to hand your son off to while he went to the bathroom to clean the stuff dripping off of his arm. The first person he found was maybe the only worse person to give a baby to- Ryan. He handed off that drooling little bundle of joy to him in the blink of an eye as he rushed away, “Hey, dude- just hold onto this for a sec.”

He knew even less what to do with the thing, holding the baby at an arm’s length while he kicked his little legs and giggled. Ryan eyed it with suspicion, unsure of what to do next. Steve was long gone, and he didn’t know when he’d be back, so in a moment of quick thinking, he did the only rational thing- handing it off to someone else. Effectively, this baby was being passed around like a fat little babbling football.

Johnny squinted, eyeing him up and down with suspicion at the absence of your son, “Steve, where’s the kid?” He dried the water that dripped off of his recently washed hands on his camo shorts. He sighed and said like there was nothing wrong with it, “I gave him to Ry ‘cause he shat all over me.” Of all people to trust with your baby, you just had to pick Steve-O. You rubbed the space between your eyebrows in frustration, “It’s a baby. It’s gonna shit!”

And so the wild goose chase began. The two of you eventually found the man you were looking for leaning against the side of one of the makeup trailers, beer in hand. “Ryan! Where the hell’s my kid?” Johnny was getting exasperated at this point, as were you. Ryan shrugged nonchalantly, “Gave it to some production assistant lady- Y’know, the one with the hair.” You fell slack jawed and started to wonder if any of these men had been around a child before, much less responsible for one. He sipped his beer “What? It had ‘poopies’. I don’t do ‘poopies’.” Blinking in disbelief, you furrowed your brow, “Okay- okay. Do you have any idea where the woman is?” “Yeah! She’s here all the time- see her every day.” Really narrows it down. Frustrated, you turned to Johnny, “I can’t believe we trusted him with your idiot friends!- no offense, Ryan.” Ever unconcerned, he shrugged, “Hey, none taken.”

After a few panic-inducing minutes of rushing about on set and stumbling into dressing rooms people may or may not have been in (sorry, Bam), you eventually tracked down the aforementioned production assistant. It was Johnny actually who found her, tucked away in some quiet room on set with your son (who had a miraculously clean diaper)- and someone else. In all your time as a mother, you never saw a baby more captivated with anyone than he was with Chris, pawing at his long hair with tiny hands and giggling while he made silly noises to entertain him. “Pbbtt! Goo goo goo! A- pbbtt!”

Johnny cracked a smile and waved you over to look at the sight. God, it was heartwarming. Relieved, you softly awed and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close, “Well, I do think we’ve found our new babysitter.”

#jackass #bam margera #johnny knoxville #steve o #chris pontius #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #fluff #jackass x reader #johnny knoxville x reader

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lovingelegance · 2 years

Text

Camboy Monday AU (🎊Event)

Twitter Links + Short Scenarios!

Summary of this event : You’re a cam person in this AU and when going live, you feature the genshin boys in them! I also tried to include some people I didn’t before in my last event so enjoy!(Once again, be prepared because I’m not including everything that’s in here…)

Characters, AlHaitham, Ayato, Childe, Kaeya, Pantalone, Scaramouche, Heizou, Thoma, and Xiao.

Side note : Oh my god. Id like to thank everyone who’s liked and read my posts, and I’d like to thank the people who follow me! I also can’t forget to thank my Anons!! Thank you so much for the support I really appreciate it, like I really do. Cheers to hitting 100 followers! 🥂

Before we start, sorry for my grammar mistakes! (If I have any) 🫶

❗️Also you need a Twitter account to view most of these links!!

❕ AlHaitham

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Cum, slut! Featuring, @|D3ndr0Wh0r3”

“You’ve got some pretty moans..” You say while pumping his cock nonstop. AlHaitham moaned harder, the chat rushed in, “Of course he does!” One person says, “Yeah, pretty slutty moans.” Another person commented. You smiled under the mask and began to stroke his cock more roughly. “Ple-Please..!” He whined out, you act confused for a second. “Please what babe?” You said gently, “I need y-your cock/strap in me!!” He cried out. You pulled his hair and went quicker.

“Oh yeah?” You say switching your tone instantly. Tears rolled down AlHaitham’s face, “Yesyes! Ah- Fuck—!” Pre-cum leaked from his cock as you shoved your cock/strap in him. His whole body tensing up. “Feels- amazing!!~” He cried out once again. His eyes rolling back and he took the pleasure you gave him. Fuck, seeing the expressions he’s making made you feel intense lust. Almost as if it was spreading all over your body. “I bet it does, doesn’t it?”

~🌱

❕Ayato

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Cock Whore. Featuring, @|S1yS1ut”

“Take all of my cock you Whore.” You say demandingly. “Yes!- thank you!!” Ayato exclaimed. He bobbed his head on your cock/strap, he slightly gagged. The chat were cheering him on to take all of it in his mouth, praising him for being able to take all of your cock/strap in his mouth. You were reading the chat out loud to him, “They’re praising you for how well your taking in my cock, say thank you.” You say grabbing a fist full of hair of Ayato’s. A muffled thank you came out of his mouth.

“This angle is perfect!” You saw someone say. Ayato was riding you. You could see his cock, as well as his ass now taking your cock this time around. “Shit, he really is a fucking whore!!” Another comment appeared. When Ayato read that comment, he almost came right there and then. “Nngh..- ‘m gonna cum!~” you nodded your head signaling he could cum. Ayato came as his semen dropped down onto your chest.

~🧋

❕Childe

Link Link

❗️ Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Bitch Boy!! Featuring, @|Pain4Me”

You slapped his ass real hard. Hard enough to get a imprint of your hand on his ass. “I bet you like that, huh?” You say while slapping him again. Childe whimpered, “I do! I do!” He said desperately. The chat was in awe of his desperation. Degrading him just how he liked. “You’re so fucking pathetic!” These mean words only added more fuel to the fire. He let out a strangled moan in response. You continued to slap his ass while giving him the most disgusted look you can ever give.

“Mmm..! Ah!- Shit~” he was gripping the arm rests of the chair. His drool seeped from his mouth. You stroked his cock just the way he loved. Childe’s eyes were now rolling back. The chat went crazy it. “He looks so hot while doing it?!” “Fuck, this type of sub makes me go crazy..” you smirk. It looks like you reached your target audience with Childe. You couldn’t believe how much Sadists were behind the screen watching, but at least they were enjoying this lovely view.

~🐳

❕Kaeya

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Surprise! Featuring @|Pr1nceSS”

Now, Kaeya was very very popular. You didn’t expect him to have an account on this website, but here you were. Now fucking him. The chat flooded, they were all surprised. Their favorite dominate creator and sub creator doing a collaboration.. “Who would’ve thought? I’m not complaining though, there both so sexy.” A compliment along with a donation. “Thank you so much!!~” Kaeya said with a thoughtful look on his face, soon that look was wiped off as you fingered him.

Kaeya moaned out as he rode your fingers. Making the sluttiest noises possible from his mouth. “Before taking my cock in we should prep you with more than my fingers.. right?” You suggested. He was open to the idea but the dildo was larger than the normal sizes he used. “Ah- O-Okay..” he stuttered. You guided him onto the dildo, he whined out. “Oh my!— th-this is stretching me out..~” Kaeya said seductively. “If that stretched you out, then I wonder how you’ll do when you take me.” Maybe you should collaborate with him more often you thought to yourself.

~✨

❕Pantalone

Link Link

❗️ Scenario Beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“So humiliating. Featuring, @|1and0nly”

“UHGH!- I’ll be a good w-whore for you!!~~” You pulled his hair, and fucked him roughly. “Do you know how many times people have told me that?!” You say harshly. What you said was true, but you knew he liked getting told those type of things. “I’ll be better- wait-! Better th-than the others! I swearr~!”he says while getting drunk on the pleasure. “You’re so fucking greedy. Such a greedy whore.” The chat was going crazy. The way you said it made everyone feel some type of way. The way that Pantalone’s eagerness sparked something in them.

“Yess..!! Hah—” You tugged on the leash. You read his collar one last time before going back in to fuck him. “Number 1’s Best Whore” you giggle a bit, but not loud enough that the people who were watching you can hear it. “You really are something.” You say watching him closely. Pantalone looked away, embarrassed. “Fuck I love that embarrassed expression of his.. it’s so fucking beautiful!” A person said in the chat. You read it aloud to him and made him cum on the spot.

~💰

❕Scaramouche

Link Link

❗️ Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Maybe, Good Boy? Featuring, @|G00DBRAT”

“You know, you look pretty good in handcuffs don’t you think?” You say while sweeping the hair from his face. The chat agreed with you, saying all sorts of dirty compliments. “You.. you really think- so?” He says blushing hard. You nod and caressed his cheek. You gazed at him and made out with him. Suddenly, the kisses turned into sloppy ones and a competition to fight for dominance. Of course, we all knew who was going to win but Scaramouche still dared to challenge you.

Lifting up his skirt to show his panties, the chat were amazed with this. This was a rare moment. He practically begged. You wanted to see that adorable look of his during this round and keep it. You wanted to hear him beg aloud for the viewers to see it and cherish it. “I’ll touch you when you beg for it.” You whispered, just loud enough so the viewers could tell what you were whispering about. “Pl-Please.. P-Please touch me..~” he says cutely. Oh you were going to do some unspeakable thing to him after he said that.

~⚡️

❕Heizou

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Good Job! Featuring, @|S3CR3T6”

He knew how to push your buttons, but now.. You were pushing his. You denied his release. Every single time he said he was going to cum or said he was cumming you stopped your actions. “Why- Why?!” He cried out. You stopped again, grabbing his chin. “Why what darling?” You asked him. He hesitated but decided to talk back. “Why are y-you stopping everything when I say I’m going to cum..?” He responded. “Don’t worry, in the end it will all be worth it. Okay?~” you say sweetly. It’s as if he forgot about that part for a second.

“Fuck cumming, cumming—!” His semen goes all over his thighs. His eyes roll back and he throws his head back. “Now.. I finally let you cum. You satisfied?” You teasingly said. He nodded his head, though you had something else in store. “Well, sense you wanted to cum so bad the other times.. let’s see how many times I can make you cum.” He was shocked, but he should’ve expected this to happen. The only thing now is to prepare for the time of his life.

-📖

❕Thoma

Link Link

❗️ Scenario Beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Puppy Like, Featuring, @|MA1D4U”

The chat hasn’t seen him in a while, though they loved him. They loved how innocent he seemed but in reality he was just another cheap slut begging for your cock/strap. “I love the maid outfit!<33” “sososo cuteee” you laughed reading the comments. “They all really like your outfit for today..” you murmured. “Too bad were gonna ruin it today~” saying in a low tone. That made Thoma shiver. Shit, he hasn’t been turned on like that for a while. You knew all the spots to make him feel good.

“Mmph—! Uh~!” He whimpered out, spilling cum all over his maid dress. You soon got him on his back and fingered him. “Does that feel good sweetheart?” You ask him. “AH! yesyes-!!” He moaned out. “How can they do it that fast?!” A person in the chat said. You just tilted your head and gave the viewers a smile through your eyes. Even though they couldn’t see it behind your mask, they could tell you were smiling. “Ohh~! I think ‘m gonna c-cum again!” You turned your attention to Thoma and signaled for him to cum.

~🧹

❕ Xiao

Link Link

❗️Scenario Beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Very cute! Featuring, @|Alat0z”

“Ahh.. I see why my viewers like you so much.” You say with a smug look on your face. Xiao was all tied up and was in feminine clothes. At first he didn’t like this idea at all. Now he loves it and so does the chat. “Holy shit he’s so cute.” “The titles not wrong!!” He has a skirt and long socks on. You took off his shirt earlier because you felt like he didn’t need to hide his chest. He moaned out as the vibrator buzzed onto his cock and in his ass. “Such a good boy. Unlike some others.” You laughed.

“Aww you’re such a good boy for me aren’t you?” You say as you see him obeying your every order. Xiao wasn’t like the others. He wanted to hear your praise every second, and is willing to do anything for that. The viewers called him precious. “Mhm!” He said while looking at you with puppy eyes. Fuck. That look of his is quite powerful but he doesn’t even know that. “Let me reward you, I think you deserve it honey.” You coo. You stroke his hair and made him go on all fours.

-🌌

Y’all im so tired, but I hope you guys enjoyed!!

My requests are open <3 Sorry if I don’t get to your request right now, I’ll get to it as soon as possible!

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lorcandidlucienwill · 10 days

Text

Look if I could leave the ACOTAR fandom, I would. Unfortunately, I am stuck here until Lucien’s book. So my random musings about how SJM might handle certain character arcs keep me sane.

It really feels like an Elucien book is next because the biggest problems spoken about in ACOSF were as follows:

Spring Court —> Tamlin

Koschei —> Vassa

Beron —> Eris

What do Tamlin, Vassa, and Eris all have in common? Lucien! Who spoke Koschei’s prophecy? Elain! Guess who are mates? Elain and Lucien!

I feel like Vassa might be “forced” to betray Lucien and Jurian because of her connection to Koschei. I don’t think she’ll be a big bad though, she will definitely wind up with Jurian.

Now Jurian: he went into the Cauldron too. He had BETTER have some freaky ass powers we don’t know about yet or I’m going to riot.

Lucien High Lord/King when?? He’s the only High King I’d accept!

Elain will hopefully get healing and earth magic along with her seer magic. Mystical gentle feminine women for the win!

Now how will SJM handle Spring? No fucking idea. I don’t know how SJM is going to keep Tamlin as High Lord. Like logically, how will she bring Spring back while still having Tamlin at the helm? He has lost the trust of his people. Yeah yeah, it was Feyre’s fault, but let’s be real, Feyre won’t be held accountable.

Abdication and death are other possibilities for Tamlin’s arc, and I feel like Elain will play a role in healing Spring’s land. She was associated so much with Spring for a reason.

Now Helion: how tf will THAT be handled? I mean, Gavriel still haunts my dreams, so let’s hope it’s not THAT disaster. Now my biggest interest in the Day Court is having Elain and Lucien riding and adopting pegasi if I’m being real.

Now Autumn: obviously Eris will become High Lord, but who gets to off Beron? Personally hoping for the Lady of Autumn, but will I get my wishes? Jury is still out. Right now Autumn is the most interesting court to me so I really hope we get to see it in great detail.

Off topic but I want to know more about Nuan. Random trip to Dawn so we can learn more about her please!

#lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elucien #tamlin #beron vanserra #koschei #helion spell-cleaver #eris vanserra #jurian acotar #vassa acotar #jassa

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xiaq · 10 months

Note

How did you and B meet?

I'm sure I've talked about this before, but here's the Official Story from our reception invitations:

Erica met B through their mutual friend G while rock climbing at the Austin greenbelt in April of 2019.

Erica had just purchased a new camera and 80% of the photos she took that day were of B. She shyly sent B the best ones and noted he was a lovely subject. B said, “thanks bro” and used those pictures for his Bumble profile.

It was an auspicious beginning.

At the time, B was living and working in Austin while Erica was a PhD student in Dallas. She often visited “home” to see her parents and climb, so they met up regularly over the next two years.

When the pandemic hit, Erica moved back to Austin to work on her dissertation, and isolated with a small group of climbers that included B. They also started playing D&D together.

Erica’s character was a chaotic neutral half-elf bard who cast spells and cantrips exclusively via limerick. Her go-to solutions to problems they encountered were seduction, inciting political rebellion, befriending monsters, and stabbing.

B played a lawful good half-elf paladin who found Erica’s character extremely vexing.

In real life, however, they had quite a bit in common, and started spending time alone outside of group climbing and D&D meetups. Later, they would discover they had a mutual romantic interest at this point, but neither acted on it since Erica had accepted a visiting professorship in Colorado. She moved in July.

When Erica returned briefly to Austin over spring break the following year, she spent most of her time with B: climbing, hiking, grilling at her parent’s place, and staunchly denying there was anything happening between them even if she wished there was because honestly, mom, he's never shown the slightest bit of interest in me (her father scoffed loudly from the other room).

She decided to move back to Austin at the end of the school year. When B (and G) came to visit her a few weeks before she moved, Erica decided to be brave and make her intentions known. While watching a UFC fight with B on the couch, she tucked her toes, lasciviously, under B’s thigh.

Shockingly, he did not respond to this unequivocal romantic overture. But he did help her remove all the temporary wallpaper on her ugly rental cabinets before they left, so that was nice.

The following month, when Erica moved back to Austin, B asked if she’d like to come over for dinner after climbing. She agreed because she wanted to procrastinate unpacking and also she was slightly in love with him. The following day, he asked if she wanted to have dinner again. She did.

“Wow,” Erica said to her mother that morning, “I guess B is really lonely since G moved. He’s been asking me to hang out with him a lot.”

“You're an idiot,” her mother said.

That night, B asked Erica if she'd ever thought about them dating.

“I’m thinking about it now,” she said, cavalier, suave, blasé, and not nervous at all.

This wasn’t a lie, but she had also thought about it once or twice prior to that moment as well.

“Great,” B said, “How would you feel if I kissed you?”

And Erica said, “Yeah, I’d feel pretty good about that.”

A few weeks later, B casually showed Erica an empty shelf in his bathroom cabinet and an inviting space in his closet and a couple spare drawers in his dresser and she, equally casually, moved in with him.

Over the next year, the apartment’s decor and Erica’s diet improved drastically. They traveled, they climbed, they spent time with each others families. They lived, laughed, loved and reduced, reused, recycled. Shortly after moving into their new house, combining bank accounts, making each other their medical powers of attorney, solidifying their retirement plans, and discussing whether getting married would have tax benefits, they realized most people got engaged before doing…a good portion of those things. So they planned to propose to each other.

Christmas of 2022, they took a road trip across Colorado. B proposed to Erica on the gondola in Telluride; two days later, Erica proposed to B on the Train to Cascade Canyon in Durango. They both said yes.

In August 2023 they will elope, with their dog Deacon as a witness, to Mt. Rainier national park.

In November 2023, they’ll celebrate with their friends and family at a backyard reception that will include food, drinks, swimming, croquet, corn hole, axe-throwing and a bounce house (the axe-throwing and the bounce-house will be on opposite sides of the lawn; if it's cold, the pool will be heated). They hope you’ll come and share their joy with them.

#b #wedding stuff #love #romance

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sneezypeasy · 2 years

Text

Original Script Analysis, Part 2: The Southern Raiders, The Finale, and What I Think About it All

Link to Part 1

So folks, when it comes to literary analysis, there are two categories that textual interpretations typically fall under: the Doylist explanation, and the Watsonian explanation.

Watsonian explanations will contextualise an issue solely within the bounds of the story it is told in, so the answer to any question will be, essentially, “in-universe”. Imagine interviewing a character in the story, and asking them, “why did x happen” or, “why did y character decide to do z”. The answer you get will be a Watsonian answer.

Doylist explanations, on the other hand, are explanations that take into account things the characters themselves wouldn’t “have access to”, so to speak. These explanations often touch on writing concepts like theme, character arcs, tropes, setup and payoff etc, sometimes even referring to “real-world” motivations, intentions, or constraints that the creators were working with (or against). If an explanation or an answer to a question doesn’t sound like anything the characters themselves could have come up with, it’s probably a Doylist explanation.

I’m going to give an example from Titanic that I hope isn’t a spoiler to anybody at this point given how much this film has been memed to shit:

Jack dies at the end of Titanic. Now, why did he die?

The Watsonian says: He died because there was no room on the door.

The more intelligent Watsonian says: No there WAS room on the bloody door you smooth-brained koala did you even watch the fucking movie? They tried to get them both on there, the door just couldn’t hold the two of them because of something called BUOYANCY you fucking idiot-

The Doylist says: Jack died because it was the culmination of his character arc, and because he and Rose symbolise the class disparity of the victims of that tragedy; Jack is the poorer third class, and Rose is the rich upper class. Upper class women were the likeliest demographic to survive the sinking of the Titanic, and lower class men were the likeliest demographic to die. Jack had to die and Rose had to live; it’s symbolic.

Here’s another example: on the r/DeathNote subreddit, someone asked why L fell off his chair in such an exaggerated and dramatic fashion upon hearing that shinigami could be real. The top comment provides a detailed Watsonian answer, followed by a Doylist one:

Basically, Watsonian commentary is consistent with how the characters, in-universe, might explain/contextualise something. Doylism explains how a plot point or character decision serves a purpose beyond what the characters themselves would be able to conceptualise, whether that’s narrative payoff, authorial intent, or even marketing/executive decisions/budget constraints.

Why am I explaining all of this? Because I want to play a game with you guys.

You ready?

The name of this game is: Why, in the original script of The Southern Raiders, is Katara somehow asleep while LITERAL BOMBS ARE GOING OFF AROUND HER(!!!)

Is it:

A) Katara trained herself to sleep through Fire Nation raids and bombs from a young age

B) Katara is just generally that deep of a sleeper

C) Elizabeth Ehasz wanted an excuse (any excuse, really) to force Zuko and Katara to interact (because this is their episode, after all-)

Yeah, maybe I’m just unimaginative but I’m pretty sure it’s C. I’d love to hear your best Watsonian take for this one though (please, go nuts, lmao)

Like all the other changes we’ve seen, nothing has been done to the dialogue, which plays out how it does in the show:

I’m sorry I just can’t get over this 🤣🤣 “Character A and Character B hate each other/are not talking to each other/are currently in the process of biting each other’s heads off, now let’s come up with some ridiculous excuse to make Character A and Character B play nice and help and warm up to each other” is a pretty solid fanfic trope but I think this is the first time I’ve seen “MAKE CHARACTER A SLEEP THROUGH A FUCKING MISSILE ATTACK” utilised for this specific purpose.

Logically I understand why this was changed for the show, but I’m ngl, I’m slightly sad we didn’t get to see this version. 🤣🤣🤣

Interestingly, Katara doesn’t catch Zuko after he gets blasted off the war blimp - the script doesn’t specify anyone catching Zuko, it just says that he “lands safely on the bison” (sorry, I thought I wrote this one down in full but I only wrote down that quote, my bad 💀).

(It does make me wonder though, whether the storyboarders/animators looked at the “Katara sleeps through bombs” bit and were like.... “ok how about no, but we’ll give you ‘Katara catches a skydiving Zuko’ instead, fair trade?” 😂😂)

Continuing on from that, I have to say that even with the voice lines unchanged, Elizabeth Ehasz’s vision for Zuko and Katara’s deepening connection and understanding continues to trickle through this episode at various moments:

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Katara sobbing as she recounts her trauma? Zuko getting teary himself hearing about Katara’s grief and love for her mother? Katara visibly relaxing as a result of unburdening some of her feelings onto him? Zuko pulling Katara back and making sure she’s okay before she ploughs on ahead?

😭😭🥰🥰

And then of course, there are times when Elizabeth’s subtlety is not so subtle at all (here you go, you guys have well and truly earned this one):

Welp. I can tell you I wasn’t expecting to see that - at all. I came to the WGF hoping, maybe, to find some small crumbs - tiny clues that might give a slight nudge to the rumours that Elizabeth Ehasz was a ZK shipper, and that shippy subtext viewers may have picked up in TSR maybe wasn’t entirely lacking in substance.

I wasn’t expecting to find a page where good ol’ Elizabeth had a zutara fangasm all over her own writing 🤣🤣🤣

On the hug itself, Elizabeth’s notes were very brief:

I was a touch disappointed not to see any more fangirling, though after that serotonin boost up above I really couldn’t be too greedy. 🤣

Zuko and Katara’s scenes together in Sozin’s Comet and the Agni Kai are generally the same as what we see in the show, though I thought you guys might like to read the lightning scene anyway:

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This might be a good time to mention that I had the pleasure of working alongside @korranguyen on one of the two days that I visited the WGF. If you found the descriptions of Azula’s downward spiral in the Agni Kai uncomfortable to read, you might appreciate her essays here and here.

Unfortunately folks, we are indeed near the end now. And we know how the story ends:

Wins, eh? Interesting choice of words there. Almost makes it seem like there was a competition? Like there were, oh I don’t know, other contenders?

Now there’s something else which I think some of you may find very interesting about the script of Sozin’s Comet Part 4, and I will get to that in due course, but for now I want to discuss the way the ships were treated by the show writers and creators. As I summarised earlier and as you probably noticed yourself from reading these scripts:

From season 1 up until Day of Black Sun, the writing was heading towards a Kataang conclusion. And development-wise, it wasn’t too shabby! There was a clear and steady progression. Maybe a little subtle, from Katara’s side, but nowhere near as ambiguous as in the show. And again maybe this is just me, but I wouldn’t have been frustrated with it either, if it was shown like that.

After Day of Black Sun, the writing takes a weird turn. Kataang takes a nosedive while Zutara gets a ton of positive development (reconciliation, forgiveness, synchronicity and cooperation* anyone? lmao), which is canon in the show too but it’s… even more pronounced in the script? Aang is more aggro, Zuko and Katara are more tender/vulnerable with one another, they don’t scoot away at the suggestion that they like, like each other – and these are the final drafts? What the heck were y’all writing in the first drafts?? (No that’s not a joke actually, I wanna know 😭)

Kataang “wins”. Wins?!? I thought y’all said there was never even a contest!!**

Okay, time for some speculation/theorising on my part. To me, it seems like, at some point after writing the “Kataang” episodes but before actually animating and producing them, and before writing the later episodes in season 3, and perhaps even right up until the writing of Sozin’s Comet Part 4, there was a collective (if not unanimous) decision to “keep things open”. The question is: why?

Did the writers disagree, or was it just shipbaiting? Or was it some combination of both?

If no-one else, Elizabeth Ehasz is quite clearly a Zutara fangirl; I don’t think anyone can deny that after reading the way she writes these kids 🤣 That paragraph does not read to me like a writer casually (or grudgingly) obeying directions to shiptease because it’s what the producers wanted, it reads like a writer unable to stay professional about how much she loves this one fucking ship. (We feel you Lizzie. We feel you.)

So was there actually some discord in the writer’s room about which direction to take the romance arcs? @zutarawasrobbed pointed out that given the narrative decision to hinge Aang’s internal struggle and character arc around the need to “let go” of an “attachment” to Katara, (some?) writers may have seen a potential in deconstructing Kataang to fulfil this arc. This is especially possible if, after writing Crossroads of Destiny and/or seeing audience feedback to that episode, Zutara was increasingly beginning to appear as a viable alternative.

I mean, even by Sozin’s Comet, it doesn’t seem like they’d figured out how to resolve Aang’s whole “blocked chakra” situation –

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Aang “somehow” just happens to untangle what had previously been set up as an internal struggle, with the conveniently timed activation of some “chi bending nonsense” (and reverse-glowing arrows and “such things”).

Uh huh.

(To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand Rick and Morty -)

Of course, the other possibility is that most of the way through writing the script, and maybe about halfway through animating it, the creators simply recognized a clear potential for shipbaiting, and this is at least somewhat to blame for the hot mess that is the romance arcs of ATLA.

My personal theory is that writer disagreement did happen, and is at least partially why we ended up getting what we got. The fact that both ships are specifically referenced and granted “approval” so to speak, by different writers, and one of them ends up explicitly “winning”, sort of cinches it for me. Either way, the show was clearly pulling in different directions at different parts and under different creators, and in my opinion the scripts support these rumours.

One thing is for certain: whether this was just shipteasing, or actual production hell in the writer’s room, it is my opinion that Zutara AND Kataang were both robbed.

Kataang had a decent romance arc written out for it, and even if there may have been issues reconciling it with Aang’s internal conflict set up in the Guru and/or with the over-arching themes of the show, it would have been all right in the end if they had just kept it the way they originally wrote it. I can’t really see any but the most die-hard anti-Kataangers being mad about it, and Kataangers themselves would have loved it. They had a fine romance written out and they ruined it. If they did so because Zutara was being seriously considered as a possible outcome, then it’s just all the more frustrating that Zutara never ended up happening in the end. They put a lot of effort into sinking a perfectly serviceable ship and ultimately it was all for nothing. (Or worse, purely for shipbaiting). Just sad.

So, that’s my thoughts on that. And that concludes this essay- oh wait.

Right... there was that thing I kept mentioning about Sozin’s Comet Part 4. 😈

*Ahem.*

So you know how I said all these scripts were final drafts?

That’s because they are - except for two episodes: Sozin’s Comet Part 4, and Jet.

Unlike the other scripts, which have all been labelled “As Broadcast Drafts”, these two scripts are ADR drafts.

What is ADR, you ask?

According to @lady-of-bath, who works in the screenwriting industry, ADR stands for “Automated Dialogue Replacement” and is used when a script has gone through a process of re-recording or re-dubbing, because for whatever reason, the originally scripted and recorded lines are/were unsatisfactory.

(This is also something you can verify yourself actually, even if you don’t live in the LA area: when you search up ATLA in the WGF database***, even though you can’t access the scripts you can access basic details such as, the date the draft was finalised, the name of the writer, and - whether it was submitted as an “ADR” draft or an “As Broadcast Draft”.)

I even emailed the library to ask about this distinction as well:

So if I understand this correctly, all the ATLA scripts you can find in the guild were first submitted, and then lines were recorded, and then changes were made to the script that didn’t involve dialogue replacement, and then it went through animation and post-production and ended up being what you now see on screen. This is supported by the fact that A) I definitely found some changes, but B) the changes I did find were all in the action lines/shot descriptions etc.

All the scripts submitted to the guild went through this process - all of them, except these two scripts.

These two scripts were not final drafts; I guess they might be more accurately termed “final final drafts™”, because they were submitted after some(!) lines were re-recorded, (changed? added onto? cut?!?) and the script was then updated to reflect these changes that had been made in post-production.

Which just begs the question: what lines had to be re-recorded??

What did the final draft look like before this???

(Might it possibly contextualise why Dante Basco and Mae Whitman apparently both thought Zutara was going to be canon?)

This is conspiracy fodder galore, lmfao. Pardon the dramatics here for a moment, but with enough tinfoil-hatting this could easily turn into the Zutara fandom equivalent of 18½ missing minutes of Nixon tapes. 🤣

Anyway, that about sums up my detective effort on this whole thing. I did find some more tidbits which I’ll likely post in a Part 3/Epilogue type thing - mostly small changes (most of them not really zutara-related) that I found interesting or funny enough to jot down; I’ll be making a compilation of these for your reading pleasure as soon as I can. ^^

One last bonus for you guys: the “I’ll save you from the Pirates” scene:

I must confess, I never really read this scene as romantically framed or “shippy” when I first watched it. But the way it’s written here looks like it’s taken straight out of a fanfic. “Right into the arms of Zuko”? Oh no. (Oh yes.) Oh me oh my. 🤣

*Also, someone needs to write a Mr and Mrs Smith Zutara AU titled “Synchronicity and Cooperation”, I’m saying it now, this is my official decree. Write it, folks. We need it.

**Screenshot taken from: https://avatar.fandom.com/wiki/Avatar_Extras_(Book_One:_Water) (Under “Goofs”)

***I hope that link works, if it doesn’t, just navigate to their Library Catalogue and search up ATLA yourself.

Edit: There was a minor typo in one of the passages - it originally read “Katara has a lot of energy and momentum, and Zuko pulls her back and STOPS her before they read the door” instead of what it was supposed to say (“before they reach the door”, lol). The typo should be fixed now 😊

#zutara #atla #atla original scripts #writer's guild foundation #the southern raiders original script #sozin's comet original script #kinda???#tin foil hat bonanza #buy one sherlock hat get one free tin foil hat #lmao #long post #text post #meta #bryke critical #kataang critical #this was fun guys #now go forth and write more metas #and more fics #enjoy!!

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talesfrommedinastation · 2 months

Text

Redneck Doug watches 'The Bad Batch: A Different Approach'

Believe it or not, this episode started the first real argument between Doug and I!

Hope y'all enjoy it.

CW: Language and Doug is surprisingly critical of fat folks, despite the fact that he's from one of the least healthy states in the USA, has a massive beer gut, and can put away a whole rack of ribs and multiple barbeque fixin's in one sitting. I've seen it in person, folks. We were snipping at each other over fatphobia, glass houses, and the merits of The Treasure State after this.

I might have sacrificed my invitation to his St Patrick's Day party as a result. Oh well.

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Episode 4: “Adventures in Space Montana”

(image from @ladyzirkonia)

And we’re starting off with Little Orphan Blondie behind the wheel of a stolen vehicle because the girl is every inch her hillbilly brothers family.

Why is the plane on fire? Does this end like Alive? I thought ships couldn’t burn in space, I mean, I studied engineering, worked in oil, girl I remember Event Horizon.

Whelp, they crashed in a cold-ass field with some pointy mountains behind them. Clearly Montana. Maybe there’s a national park nearby and they can go hiking.

Aw, no, Mutant Jimmers is stuck behind Daddy Warcrimes’s seat! Let the ol girl out before she pees all over the spare tire!

Did they bring their guns? Hope they did. This is Montana, the Texas of the north, except you can’t find the bodies anywhere. If I was gonna go and murder someone, I’d pick Montana after Alaska.

(Pictured: Omega and Crosshair are somewhere in this picture)

A sketchy cold-ass town where everyone’s gambling, there’s too much military trash wandering around and you see your breath even inside the bar? Yup, definitely Montana.

(“Montana is not like that! I’ve been there multiple times! I almost went to grad school at UM and the kayaking, skiing, hiking, and breweries are amazing!” - Me, defending a state I have never lived in

“Yeah, but have you been to Butte? Thought I was gonna go get eaten by the locals there.” - Doug

::proceed to bicker and fight via texts about the many merits and demerits of the Big Sky State::)

Aw yeah, Daddy Warcrimes and Little Orphan Blondie got new clothes. Smart man, covering his face, Daddy Warcrimes. He totally looks like me when I gotta rake the lawn in November. I like that sweater, think they’ll sell them at Disneyland?

And they’re back to gambling. See! I told you this was Montana! They even have a gun rack!

Look at Little Orphan Blondie taking down fools with some cards! I bet Ryan-from-Accounting is smiling watching from Heaven or wherever he’s fighting the Space Balrog to come back as Space Gandalf.

Oh who is this fat fuck. Lord a mercy, is he the one fat imperial we have ever seen? Man I tell you what I bet he’s too hefty to ride in an AT-AT and that’s why they sent him to Space Montana, thinking the hiking and eating venison and berries will slim that brother up.

Maybe Vader will force him to run while carrying Palpatine like we did to other recruits in the Navy.

Nope, he’s gambling with a little girl in a bar, because the Empire just can’t follow rules now can it. That don’t make any sense. I’m with you, Daddy Warcrimes, giving that sour puss to everyone. I would too.

And now Officer Fat Fuck is gone done taking money from a child who beat him fair and square. Yup, he works for the government, all right. I bet he manages the Empire’s DMV.

Creepy little street boy wants some cash to tell them where they took Mutant Jimmers. I don’t blame the boy, it looks like no one wants to buy his shitty watermelon and he ain’t got a face.

Why in the hell are there so many animals in crates and shit here? They starting a zoo or something? Is it all to feed Officer Fat Fuck? I need info on this.

Shit yeah, fire them guns, Daddy Warcrimes! It’s your time to shine, big boy!

Oh yeah they freed Mutant Jimmers! And everybody else. Oh man, is that a kraken? Whelp, its dinner tonight is Officer Fat Fuck. Good on ya, kraken, you may be named after the world’s worst hockey team but ain’t bad all the time now.

(pictured: they keep losing games but hey they at least eat imperial officers?)

Gotta fry some dumb Imperial while you’re leaving, of course. Why they wearing them goggles when they got helmets on? Shit, real dumb. Don’t like the Inspector Gadget trench coats either, those can get caught real quick in a door and that’s how you get shot and all.

Ah yeah, they saved their cash, grabbed a ship, and they’re off to the moon! There they go!

DADDY RAMBO LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE JULIO AND DADDY WARCRIMES ALL BACK TOGETHER! OH MY LORD MEAT MUFFIN I AIN’T EXPECTING THIS THIS EARLY! WOW!

(image from @dreamswithghosts)

And Mutant Jimmers is with them too. It’s a good day on the moon!

Tagging Doug's fans of course: @skellymom @cdblake1565 @megmca @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @eelfuneral @thecoffeelorian @lightwise @archivistofnerddom @askyourfox @heavenseed76 @totallyunidentified

#tbb #cloneforce99 #thebadbatch #the bad batch #redneck doug #doug why #doug the neighbor #doug talks star wars #doug watches the bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #clone trooper #star wars tv #cajun doug

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written-in-flowers · 1 year

Text

Fly Away: Pt. 8

Pairing: Young!Aemond x Young!Velaryon!Reader | Side pairing: Rhaenyra x Alicent, Aegon x Helaena

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Au: friends to lovers, childhood love, incest (duh), slight homophobia expressed, repressed feelings, mutual pining, teenage runaways, mentions of bullying, arrange marriages

Word Count: 9k

Summary: Young love overcomes all in a family full of broken bonds and broken hearts. When Princess Y/N Velaryon and Prince Aemond Targaryen are discovered missing from their beds, their mothers must come together to find them. The search might do more for their families than a mere marriage pact can.

A/N: want to clarify now that we stick with young!Aemond throughout the story. Ewan’s Aemond comes in at the very end. This is mainly done starting a bit before The Princess and the Queen and a little bit after the events at Driftmark. I do pull some scenes from the show, but it remains relatively loose throughout. Want to also point out that The Dance doesn’t happen in this universe, so...happy ending expected, because we need more of those.

Taglist: @yitish, @imjustboredso, @dangerousbluebirdpoetry, @discowizard88, @mddieeunson , @caramelcandescence, @bookwhoresthings , @astrumark, @minteaspoon @eddiemunsonsgroupie @miraclealignertlsp369 @aemond-targaryenx @afro-hispwriter

Previous Chapter < | > Next Chapter��

***

Aemond checked the few snares he’d placed along the way back to the cabin, and managed to get another rabbit from one. He told you about a larder he’d found outside the house, where the family must’ve stored their meats. Once they've cooked the meat, it’ll be safe to store there for a time. Aemond remembered Ser Criston having a similar technique, and thought it was safe to use here. It’d be helpful to not be hunting every day; it was precious time he could be spending by your side instead.

The smile never fully left his face, making his cheeks hurt and strain from it. The darkening skies caused him to finally stop kissing you. He did not go any further, however. The only thing he kept thinking about were your words; the way you’d said them with such certainty. He’d thought his eye may keep you from him forever, but today you proved the opposite. You stood before a heart tree and spoke your vows to him in front of gods. Neither of you followed said gods, but did that really matter? You both kept your promises to one another in your hearts; your spirits binded themselves together underneath the shade of the blood-red leaves.

Returning to the cabin as the skies grew darker, he mentally took account of everything you’d gathered. Besides the onions and potatoes from home, you had found patches of vegetation that grew wild over the decades: blueberries, clovers, dandelions, mint leaves, and rosemary. Pine cones were scattered on the ground, so they’d been collected as well. You had no idea what to do with them, but they’d been in your book. They wouldn’t use everything tonight, since you’d plucked plenty for other dinners, but you’d eat well tonight. You are not the best of cooks, but you said that you liked making food for Aemond. It makes you feel like a “real wife” despite knowing that is not a woman’s only role. He enjoyed getting the food for you, and helping you prepare it by skinning and gutting the animal.

“We were gone longer than I’d thought,” Aemond said, reaching the threshold of the cabin’s proximity. “The sun’s about to go down. We should get the fire going.”

“Right.”

The island looked small in the sky, but you’d both learned it is quite vast. Beyond the little village and ship docks, there is nothing but an endless forest. He’s certain you’d hardly scratched the surface of the remote place. As he sat down outside the back door, the designated skinning and gutting area, you unloaded your satchel inside. Aemond watched you pick up dusty jars and bottles from a shelf near the fireplace. They’d been one of the few things that seemed salvageable in the cabin. While he patched up holes in the cabin with leaves and wood, you’d cleaned them out for proper use. As he made a slit in his kill, you saw you fill the jars with your findings. The remaining vegetables went into a crate near the fireplace, and the last of your bread sat in a basket. He knew the last piece resembled a rock by now, since you had no way of keeping it fresh.

“Aemond?” you called to him.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to go into the village again?”

Aemond stopped cutting into the rabbit’s fur, “What for?”

“I want to see if we can find food there.”

“Y/N, the village is old. I doubt anything we find will be useful or edible. Neither of us can afford to become ill.” He started peeling the rabbit’s skin from its body, the familiar squelching noise breaking the silence. You pointedly looked away, and he snorted amusedly. “There is nothing in the village. Everything we need is in the forest behind us.”

You accepted his answer, then began working on starting a fire in the hearth. Aemond thought back to the tablet and charcoal pieces he kept hidden in his bag. A perfect wedding gift for his beautiful bride, he decided. He finished stripping and hollowing out the carcass, and skewered it through a metal stick to hang over the fire. Ser Criston used to sit next to it, occasionally pouring the fat drippings to keep it juicy. He did the same, enjoying the warmth and your company in the meantime. It felt like a dream. You are his wife. You loved him. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at you at the nearby table. You’d decided to chop the onion and one potato to put in a pot for rabbit soup. Whether it’d taste good was yet to be seen, but he didn’t mind so much. Knowing you’d made it meant a lot to him.

“I think I might make a fishing rod,” he said when you came to him with a pot of water and your vegetables. “That way we aren’t always eating rabbit.”

“I can find a way to grow food here by the cabin,” you replied. “A woman from the village used to grow her own food near her home.”

“Would that work?”

“I don’t know. I can still try.” You looked into your pot, “We will need more water. We only have one skin left and half a bucket. We should have gotten water by the river.”

“I will go in the morning.” He held your hand for a while, putting more fat over the rabbit and listening to it sizzle. It smelled wonderful. “Do you want to read tonight or should I?”

“I like it when you read,” you smiled at him.

“Then I shall.”

Oh, what he wouldn’t do to keep you happy. Aemond planted a kiss on your lips, letting it linger before breaking away. You smiled and put your head on his shoulder. The dread did not touch him right now. That crippling sensation that they’d eventually be found, broken apart to never see one another again did not breach his thoughts. He knew once his mother found him, she’d make sure he never escaped again. She’d betroth and marry him to some noblewoman far away, forever barring him from being with you. Your mother will undoubtedly marry you off once you return home; possibly to a Stark or a lord far from the south. But, right now, that mattered very little. Sitting beside his wife by the fire, feeling her fingers lightly trace patterns on his forearm and occasionally being kissed by her, the outside world faded. The couple entered a place completely their own, and he’d live in it as long as possible.

After you put the soup to boil, the rabbit pieces floating inside, Aemond walked over to his satchel by the edge of the bed. “I have something for you,” he said, finding the tablet and charcoal inside. “It’s customary for a groom to give his bride a present, and I waited for the right time.”

“A present? Aemond, you did not have to,” you smiled.

“I did,” he said. “Close your eyes.” He returned to your side once you closed your eyes. He placed the wooden tablet, parchment, and sack in front of you. “Open them.”

When you looked down, your smile warmed his heart. “Oh Aemond,” you sighed, picking up the slate, “Where did you find this?”

“In the market with Aegon.” He refused to bring up that it’d been after their night in the brothel. “There was a vendor selling all kinds of different things, and I saw this,” he gestured to the tablet, “And thought you might enjoy using it. I brought more paper too for when you run out.”

“Thank you,” you beamed, holding the slate to your chest, “I love it.” You then frowned, “But, I did not get you a gift.”

“You becoming my wife is already enough for me,” he replied in a smile. “I wanted to give you something you’d use, and I thought this would be perfect.”

“It is.”

You bent forward and kissed him. Out of habit, he brought you closer to deepen it. The urge to kiss you like he’d done in the godswood crossed his mind, but he forced himself to stop.

“We should go into the village tomorrow, like you suggested,” he said, breaking the kiss. “Not for food, but to look around and see if there is anything useful there. It’d be good for us to get out of here and do something fun. Maybe then find our dragons, and we can fly together for a while.”

“That sounds nice,” you nodded, kissing him again.

He’d never felt happier.

***

Alicent’s muscles remained so tense throughout the flight that they burned. The terrifying thought of somehow slipping from Rhaenyra, off the saddle and into the open air crossed her mind several times. She’d felt fearful when riding with Aegon, who’d kept Sunfyre straight and steady to keep her at ease, and the fear came back now. Yet, her fingers digging into Rhaenyra’s leather coat, feeling her torso pressed against her’s, and her silver hair brushing into her cheek, it lessened over time. She closed her eyes, and the daydreams from long ago returned.

‘I don’t care about that anymore. I love you, Alicent. It is you that I want; not the Throne or the Crown or the Seven Kingdoms. It is you I wish to be with like I said: fly away across the sea, seeing the wonders of the world and eating cake.’

The memory returned once again, stinging as badly as they’d done every other time. It’d come to her vividly. She’d been sitting up in her bed, her curls a mess and wearing her thin nightgown, looking at Rhaenyra in the near darkness. Rhaenyra’s hair shone in the moonlight; her eyes sparkled with hope and determination as she spoke. Alicent knew them to be true; she’d admitted them to herself. Flying through the orange and blue skies, she imagined what it’d look like if she’d gone. If she’d forgotten her father’s warnings and threats…if she hadn’t cared about what others believed…if she’d let go of every fear and doubt in her mind and given into her desires for once. Alicent blinked back tears. She’d once told Rhaenyra she’d go wherever her beloved went, whispering them between kisses in the sand. But she had not. She’d let fear stop her.

‘But, Father, I love her!’

She’d declared it so loudly then, sobbing and pleading with her father to understand. It left a swelling in her throat. He’d told her that her ‘infatuation’ will eventually pass; she’d come to see he was right in the end. Deep down, Alicent knew he’d rather burn the world than let people believe a Hightower committed a sin. She’d held her tongue, swallowed her feelings, and continued living behind a mask. She married the king, gave him children and did her duty to her house. All the while, her beloved slipped through her fingers like silk.

Alicent opened her eyes to see the sun setting on the horizon. How long had they been flying? Syrax will surely need to settle somewhere soon. She took in the fading gradients of the sky, the orange and yellow giving way to the black and blue of night. Alicent worried they may not find any of their children tonight, and be forced to turn back or go off course. She dared to gaze below, and finally saw it. A single ship stood out in the expanse of dark ocean below. Squinting to see through the clouds, she saw it sailed unaccompanied by other ships. It appeared to be heading in the same direction as them, rather than moving out of the bay.

“Who is that?” she said in Rhaenyra’s ear, pointing a shaking finger at the ship.

Rhaenyra took her eyes off the path to look. She guided Syrax out of the clouds, and halfway to the water. Both women then recognized the silver seahorse against aquamarine sails of House Velaryon. Lord Corlys must be setting out to find you and Aemond as well. You are his granddaughter after all. To add more suspicion, they heard a faint screech in the distance. Small and slender, another dragon flew on the other side of the ship. Baela and her dragon, Moondancer.

It truly is all hands on deck in this search.

“I’ll go lower, then he’ll see us!” Rhaenyra called over her shoulder, “Hold on!”

Alicent let out a small scream as Syrax suddenly moved further down, her body being several feet from the water. They came up beside the ship, where they spotted several hanging lanterns lighting the deck. Alicent leaned a bit farther to see the imposing figure of Lord Corlys standing on the top of the deck, steering the helm himself towards the island. He turned his head at the approach of Syrax, and noticed Rhaenyra and Alicent riding her. Too far to exchange words, all the lord did was point ahead and nodded. They are going in the right direction.

“Aegon?!” Alicent called out to him, hoping she was close enough for him to hear.

He pointed upwards, and then forward again. Good, he’d seen them then. Another screech above told them Moondancer had flown ahead. Rhaenyra lifted the reins and Syrax turned back up into the skies. She prayed to The Mother silently.

‘Please, Mother, protect our children and keep them safe. My children are all I truly have. Please, let them be well.’

“There!” Rhaenyra gasped after a long while. “It’s there!”

Alicent peeked over her shoulder to see a dark mass not too far away. It was larger than she’d imagined, with a long and wide stretch of forest around most of it. She could not see much else through the night time sky. The island was devoid of any light or life. A sense of dread came back to her. What if they’d gotten to the wrong place? What if the children aren’t here? Alicent clung tightly to Rhaenyra, who placed a hand on the one on her stomach. She almost melted from the comfort. In the night, she spotted several dragons of varying sizes flying away from the southern corner of the island. They dropped down on the sandy beach, their bodies making shapes in the white sand. Rhaenyra circled the area for a place to land, finally finding one towards the shore in the shallows. Alicent felt the soreness in her limbs again, not wanting to move from the position on the saddle.

But, the sight of a silver-blond figure broke her from her seat.

“Aegon Targaryen!” she bellowed, sliding off the dragon saddle and into the water. It splashed against her ankles, and soaked her slippers. She did not care. Her fury boiled up to her cheeks as she stomped through the waves, “Aegon Targaryen, what in the Seven Hells do you think you are doing here?!”

“I have come to look for Aemond, Mother!” he remarked, neither stepping back nor meeting her.

“On your own?! Without any aid?!” she came right up to him, the fading sun giving her enough light to see him. “Do you realize how reckless this was? You had no idea the precise coordinates of this place. You might’ve been flying in the wrong direction, or gotten lost. You should have waited until we’d come up with a plan.”

“You were taking too long.” Aegon rarely spoke back to her in these moments, yet Alicent could not help admiring him. He stood straight with his shoulders back, staring hard back at her. “Aemond could be injured or sickly, and you and Rhaenyra were standing around a bunch of old maps. Forgive me, Mother,” he softened, “I knew you’d be worried but the longer we waited, the more likely something could happen to him.”

His softness simmered her anger. She knew his true reason for wanting to find Aemond first, and understood it. She nodded, “I only worried for you.” She hugged him tightly, taking in the scent of him like she’d done in his infancy. “You and your siblings are all I have,” she admitted in a whisper. “I…I cannot lose you.”

“I know, Mother.”

He hugged her back, then released her. Helaena stood nearby, and embraced her as well. At least they were safe. She thanked The Mother.

“Jacaerys! Lucerys!” She heard Rhaenyra’s anger match her own. “I told you both to stay in the castle! This place can be dangerous!”

“We wanted to find Y/N,” Jace replied. “We could not wait any longer.”

“This was entirely foolish of you,” she looked at the others near her, “Foolish of all of you. If you’d waited, we could have built a strategy and flown here together.”

She ran her hand through Jace’s hair, then brought him to her side. She did the same with Luke. Alicent heard muffled words from both boys, who no doubt apologized for upsetting her. Alicent then turned to Aegon, “It appears my son is the leader of this little rescue group. What was your plan exactly?”

Aegon paused. He did not have one. “I thought of us splitting up in pairs to find them.”

“In a place as large as this one?”

“We’d use our dragons.”

“In the darkness?”

He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “Well…”

“We need to burn torches if we are to start searching,” Rhaenyra came up to them with her boys. “Lord Corlys is on his way with Baela. I’m certain he has brought more men with him. Knowing Laenor,” she looked at Alicent, “He would have followed us with Ser Criston; that’ll add more people to the party.”

“So, you suggest more patience, a thing we’ve had so little of these days?” Alicent responded.

“There is not much we can do safely. I’d rather we stay together until Lord Corlys arrives. He is not too far, so I suspect he’ll be here by morning.”

“We’ve brought food and water,” Luke said from Rhaenyra’s side.

“Yes, and bed rolls to sleep on in case we did not find them by daybreak,” added Jace.

“Wine, Mother?” Aegon offered her his wineskin. Alicent looked at the skin, then her son. An olive branch, she assumed. She took it, uncorked the stopper and gulped some. A drink might calm her nerves, which buzzed enough to shake her bones. “Jace, Luke and I will set up a fire,” he told her, putting the cork back on for her. “You can divide up the provisions and Helaena and Rhaenyra can send off the dragons. They can patrol the skies for right now.”

Alicent did not disagree. Dividing food and supplies gave her mind something to do while she impatiently waited for Lord Corlys. Everyone went their separate ways to their various tasks. They’ve managed to end up where Aemond is. If the Seven favored her, he might end up wandering into the camp and she can take him home.

And then what? Lock him in the highest tower forever? He’d resent her for the rest of their lives if she did that. As she unloaded the sacks the children brought with them, she pictured herself in Aemond’s shoes. Well, she’d once been in them. Her son mustered the courage she never had. He’d left everything and everyone he knew to begin a new life in an unfamiliar place with his beloved. Yes, you are his beloved. He’d said so in all the letters he’d written you. Aemond wrote poem and poem declaring his love; he’d written at length about how being without you tortured him. She’s certain you’d responded the same way. How could she ruin that? She’d be no better than her father.

“You should take off your shoes.” Rhaenyra appeared beside her, spreading a blanket to place the food on. “They’re soaked from the water.”

Alicent wiggled her toes in her wet shoes and stockings. She should’ve been more careful where she dismounted. Alicent kicked them off, along with her stockings. They’d dry on their own soon enough. Quietly busying herself with the provisions, she thought back to what Rhaenyra told her. Her children will be safe. She’d be safe. She caught sight of Aegon lighting a fire. He is the challenge. Many people said Viserys should have named him heir at birth, but he never did. He feared losing his daughter. If Rhaenyra wanted to remain uncontested, she’d need to remove any other claimants.

Rhaenyra wouldn’t.

She’d never hurt her children. The moment in Driftmark made them both lose sense and sight. If they’d talked alone without interference from her father and husband, they might have found common ground. But, she’d let years of resentment and loss and longing start an inferno in her heart. She told herself over and over that Rhaenyra’s blatant treason was what upset her. That she’d committed adultery, mothering bastards with Harwin Strong, and subsequently putting her life at risk. But, turning to look at Rhaenyra, feeling her close and working together, she accepted the truth at last. It had not been the treason that could cost Rhaenyra her life if revealed. It had not been Viserys’s blindness or his unconditional love and favor for his daughter.

It’d been because Rhaenyra chose Harwin.

She’d shut Alicent out once she became her stepmother, and walked into the strong arms of Harwin. Even if undercover, she’d given her heart and soul to Harwin. She’d taken it from Alicent that night and given it to him.

“Did you love him?” she heard herself ask before she could stop.

“What?” Rhaenyra heard her. She had to be in their close proximity, but it was a ruse. It was a chance to retract the question.

“Did you love him? Rhaenyra, did you love him?”

She did not answer immediately. Alicent watched her carefully place a bundle of apples in one corner, arranging them without thinking. She saw the wheels turning. Rhaenyra bit the inside of her cheek, a thing she often did when in thought. Alicent saw the answer in her hands. Yes, she had.

“I did,” she finally said, the words staying between them and not floating away. “He came into my life during a very vulnerable time. He sensed my loneliness, my sadness, and lifted me from it. I felt trapped, and he comforted me. I did not feel lost with Harwin. I felt safe and secure in my position at home; I felt I could go onwards with him by my side.”

Alicent turned away. A hollow feeling buried itself into her chest. She’d been that person once, and she’d betrayed her. She’d set aside a sack of berries when Rhaenyra’s hand stopped her. When she looked up, she saw tears in the princess’s eyes.

“I went to him because I’d lost you,” she whispered. “I’d lost you to my father…to the kingdom…to your father,” her voice hissed at the last word. “When you married my father, I resented you because you lied to me. You never told me about your meetings, or that you’d seduced my father into loving you-”

“-I did not ‘seduce’ your father. It was the ambition of my father who’d pushed me into your father. He…” she paused, taking a breath, “He wanted so badly to have a grandchild on the throne, he sacrificed me. In turn, I sacrificed the things I’d held so dear to me; I casted them aside for a ‘greater purpose’.” She thought back to her father telling her to comfort the king after his wife’s death. She knew his plan then, but young Alicent only obeyed her father’s orders. “I’d hoped your father would not favor me. I hoped he’d still see me as his daughter’s childhood companion, a girl not much older than her. I prayed, even, that he chose Laena Velaryon over me. He’d gain more from her than from me. But, my father’s plan worked. Your father chose me for his wife, and…And I lost you.”

“Why did you not tell me?”

“I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you every time we went to the strawberry patch in the gardens; I wanted so badly to reveal it to you, but I feared the outcome.” She rested her hands in her lap, starting to pick at the skin on her nail beds. She carved into it with her nail, pushing the skin away from the nail. It hurt a bit, but it did not bother her. “I feared what might happen if we’d been discovered by the wrong person. My father told me what they’d done to Ser Hoster when they found him abed with his squire. I’ve heard the things people say about your husband, and what’ll occur if it ever came to light. I was scared, Rhaenyra,” she could not look at her. Tears stung her eyes, adding to the self-mutilation on her fingers. “I was scared just as I am now.”

“I did not know then,” Rhaenyra said. “I thought you’d done it on purpose, to hurt me for some reason unknown to me. Perhaps, deep down in my silly dreams, I’d hoped we could still be together somehow, some way. But, knowing you’d married my father and he’d bedded you…I do not know, it…It sickened me.” She took Alicent’s hand to stop her picking. “Then, after Daemon returned from the Stepstones, I saw your unhappiness and knew I’d caused a portion of it. When you told me people only saw you as The Queen,” she caressed Alicent’s hand, fingers underneath her wrist, “I hoped we could mend what splintered.”

“Then you came to me in my bed, and once again…” she sniffled, “My fear kept me from going with you.”

“And my love for you kept me there.”

Alicent looked at her with teary eyes. She clutched Rhaenyra’s wrist, turning slightly to face her. “We’re both mothers,” she began, “And we love our children. We’d do anything for them.” She rubbed her wrist, wanting to touch and feel her like before. She worried if she stopped, Rhaenyra would disappear. “Forgive me, Rhaenyra. Forgive me for all of it? For every disparaging remark or thinly veiled insult? For demanding your son’s eye in return for Aemond’s? For destroying…” she took a deep breath, “For destroying us. Do you forgive me for destroying us?”

“You did not destroy us. I did.” She touched her back, and it melted everything inside her. “I did the night your boy lost his eye.” She sniffled, “Y/N implored me to speak with you after it happened. She said it could be mended if we’d both spoken in private; if we’d truly aired our feelings and discussed them. But, I’d been too stubborn and hurt to approach you. After what you’d said to me, after the knife slipped, I did not know if it was possible.” Their eyes met again, “Years of jealousy, betrayal, and bitterness have built up this wall between us that made you feel so unreachable. That wall was put there by both of us, and the world in which we live in. So much…So much ripped us apart, I did not know if it could ever be restored.”

“I’d been too wrapped in my grief and worry for my son that the thought did not occur to me. What I said that night…Forgive me for it. Please.”

“You did not lie. I know my father’s favor is what keeps my sons and myself alive. I abused it that night. I needed to protect my sons; protect them from the whispers being spread about them. I should never have asked Aemond to be questioned, but you must understand, my sons…Their lives would be in danger if the truth ever came out.”

“Why, Rhaenyra?” she asked. “You knew your indiscretion with Harwin could put your life at risk; your sons’ lives at risk. Why?”

She shook her head, “I cannot honestly say. I loved Harwin. I did not wish for it to happen, but it did, and I have no regrets. Harwin gave me three beautiful sons, whom I love more than my own life.” She then asked, “Did you fear for your childrens’ lives, Alicent? Is that why you advocated for Aegon to be heir for so long? You know your son is not fit for the throne. This little stunt of his does not prove he could be-”

“-Of course I fear for them. I fear for them every day,” she cut her off. “Aegon and Aemond are true born sons of the King. They have their own claims to the throne, which someone might decide is a threat and kill them.”

“You believe I’d do such a thing, Alicent?”

“Your sons took my son’s eye. What would stop them or any of your supporters from killing him?”

“I would stop them,” she said firmly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I would stop them before they even thought of raising their swords. Alicent,” she implored, “What happened to Aemond is terrible. I cannot fathom the pain it’d brought you to see him in so much pain. My sons did not intend to hurt him; they only defended themselves. As did your Aemond,” she added before Alicent could interrupt. “But, I would never put a sword to your sons or daughter. They are my blood. They are…” she paused, “They are a part of you. Killing them would be the equivalent of killing you. That is something I truly could not bear.”

Tears fell freely down their faces. Alicent’s heart laid bare on the floor for Rhaenyra to pick up and take with her. The hole in her chest ached to be filled once more by her love. She’d missed her in The Red Keep. She’d missed their talks in the godswood, their walks in the palace gardens, and being at each other’s side always. The Keep feels colder and lonelier than ever before. She wanted to say this. The words tittered on the tip of her tongue, but Alicent could only weep.

“Rhaenyra, I-”

“-Mother! Mother, look!”

The two women turned from each other to see a pale green dragon land on the other side of the dunes, her pale horns pearly white. On her saddle sat Baela Targaryen, who grinned at them both from her seat. Rhaenyra and Alicent wiped their cheeks, and went with their children to greet Baela. She forced herself to push the conversation from her mind, yet it lingered as she walked. As she finished hugging her cousins, Baela looked at Rhaenyra.

“Have you found Y/N yet?” she asked hopefully.

“Not yet,” Rhaenyra answered. “We are waiting for your grandfather to arrive.”

“He set out as soon as the guards told him about Starshine,” Baela told her. “I saw her flying when I first set out, and tried following her, but she’s too fast for Moondancer.”

“It is good you did not follow. Y/N might’ve told her not to land near here,” Rhaenyra told her. “Come, get warm near the fire and eat something.”

Their conversation put to rest for now, Alicent and Rhaenyra joined their children by the fire and eagerly waited for Lord Corlys.

***

As husband and wife now, you permitted Aemond to sleep inside the bed roll, rather than on top. You welcomed his warmth underneath the thin blankets; clinging to him shielded you from the cool winds that came in through the window. Finding a comfortable position proved difficult in the beginning, since neither of you wanted to inconvenience the other, but soon you found a position you liked. His arm around your waist, he laid on his back while you snuggled to his side. It was another step into being married. If you’re married, you’re allowed to share a bed.

In the twilight between sleep and awake, you thought you heard a faint screech from outside. The winds briefly flurried and whacked branches into the window sill before going completely still again. You heard the sound again, but closer.

“Aemond…” you mumbled and wiped your nose, “Aemond, I think there’s…a dragon…out-outside.”

“It’s nothing, my love,” Aemond replied, not opening his eyes and pulling you close. “Go…back to sle-e-ep.”

“Hmm, alright.”

The noises outside did not bother you any further.

***

Lord Corlys’s ship appeared on the horizon around dawn. Rays of orange and yellow broke through the black sky, banishing night and giving way to morning. Rhaenyra found sleep difficult at the beginning. She kept picturing you somewhere deep in the forest, wandering aimlessly with Aemond beside you. Rhaenyra only found comfort when she reassured herself that you are fearless. Cautious, yes, but fearless. You would've adapted to your situation, and found ways to get water and food. You also had Aemond, who’d no doubt have some form of wilderness skills. Suddenly, she'd fallen asleep and seconds later was woken up again.

"Mother, Grandfather is here," said Luke, his face inches from hers.

"Oh, gods, Luke, please."

She gently moved him away and sat up. Across from her, through the dimness of morning, she spotted Alicent already standing. Their conversation the previous night returned like a dream. It'd been as you suggested: both women finally airing some of their grievances with each other. Their hearts finally spilled out onto the floor, and neither one held back. A weight, she felt, slightly lifted itself from her shoulders. Alicent did not hate her. She had in fact resented her for the freedoms she enjoyed, and believed she'd been replaced by Harwin. She thought Rhaenyra truly stopped loving her. How she wished to prove differently.

She saw Alicent in Harwin’s dark curls, and her smirk in his sly smiles.

She thought of her every time she ate a candied lemon off a cake and when a maid poured her sweet cream for her fruits.

Every time Alicent Hightower crossed her mind, her heart shed another piece away.

"Lord Corlys," Alicent greeted the sea lord as he approached. "I am glad to see you arrived safely."

"As am I, Your Grace," he bowed, long locs swinging from his shoulders. "The seas around this island can be rough if one does not know how to navigate them. It makes me glad Prince Aemond and Y/N took their dragons."

She shuddered briefly, picturing it, and pushed it away at once. "Has there been any sign of them?" he asked them.

"Not since we arrived," Rhaenyra answered, walking up to him. "It was too dark to search with the few we have. I take it you've brought more men."

"I have," he nodded over to the shoreline where she spotted more rowboats coming to the shore. "Once everyone is here, we can divide up the parties. Dragonriders may take to the skies, while we go on foot."

"Can you tell us anything you know about this place, Lord Corlys?" Alicent asked, a plea laced in her voice.

"There was once a village here, that I know," he answered. "But, it’s been abandoned for decades and therefore inhabitable. The children will be foolish to try staying in those buildings. I imagine they must've set up camp by a water source, if we're lucky." He looked at the sky above, "It is strange. I have not yet seen or heard Starshine or Vhagar."

"I find that strange as well," Rhaenyra agreed. "Dragons typically stay near their riders, and Starshine isn't one to leave Y/N alone."

"And we would've seen Vhagar," Baela came to her grandfather's side and hugged him. "She's big."

"I assume the children ordered them to stay away to avoid being caught." He kept Baela close as he said, "What were they thinking?" He sighed, "Coming here of all places. How could they expect to survive?"

"It must’ve been Aemond’s idea," said Alicent. "Ser Criston often takes him and Aegon on hunting trips. My son learned a lot from him. I am confident he's kept them both fed and watered at least."

She sounded as if she tried convincing herself more than anyone else. Rhaenyra put a hand on her back to comfort her, and she felt the queen's shoulders loosen.

"They'll be fine. We only need to find them."

"If they wish to be found."

Rhaenyra knows you'll put up a fight. You will not leave so easily; if you caught a whiff of them, you'll run off again. It's what she would do if she was you. Lord Corlys, Aegon and the other boys circled a map Corlys brought along with him. Faded and withered, the copy was legible, so easier to organize search parties in various areas. Rhaenyra only cared about finding you. You mattered above everything else. An hour later, she spotted Seasmoke, a gray and silver dragon, flying through the sky towards them. She greeted Laenor and Ser Criston when they arrived.

"Our girl?" Laenor asked her. When she shook her head, he said, "Well, I spotted Starshine in the skies to the east, so we must be in the right place.”

“I hope so,” she frowned. “Your father is organizing groups to search the forest.”

“I will ride Seasmoke,” he told her, “And scan the island for a sign of them.”

“No,” Rhaenyra said suddenly. When he gave her a puzzled look, she continued, “If they see dragons in the sky, they’ll be compelled to run off again.” He appeared unconvinced, so she said, “You know she’ll run if she thinks we’ve found them.”

“Rhaenyra, we need to use whatever resources we have to find them. The dragons are the best way to do that,” he told her, taking her hand to squeeze it gently. “They cannot run if they don’t have their dragons to ride.”

“They’ll find a new place to hide on the island then. Laenor, Y/N is stubborn and willful. You know she is, and she won’t give up Aemond so easily.”

“She wouldn’t have to give him up if you and the queen hadn’t…” he stopped himself from finishing. “Let us focus on finding Y/N and bringing her home.”

She knew what he meant to say. If her and Alicent made amends after Driftmark, then there’d be no broken betrothal. Did he believe she did not know that? That she felt no guilt or responsibility for causing this? If she’d tried speaking to Alicent and convincing her to reinstate the betrothal for their childrens’ sake, then you’d be home right now. She followed Laenor to the main group, noticing Ser Cole with Alicent. Seeing their heads close together, she guessed Ser Criston is giving his queen a report. Rhaenyra recalled their conversation once again, and forced herself to look away from her.

That was when she spotted the empty bed rolls near the campfire. Aegon and Jace gave their rolls to their mothers, but Luke, Helaena, and Baela slept on their own. Her eyes swept the area for her sons, hoping that she must’ve missed them in the group of people settled on the beach. She even turned to the skies to see none of the dragons in the clouds. She walked around the occupied space, her breath growing heavier as her heart pounded. Seven Hells, they’d done it again. How? When? She’d woken up to Luke’s sweet smile inches from hers. How could they have snuck off so quickly?

“Where are the children?” she asked Alicent, touching her forearm.

“The children?” She then glanced around the beach, looking off into the distance beyond before realizing it herself. “They wandered off.”

“Or went to look for Aemond and Y/N.”

“Ugh, Aegon!” she grunted, stomping her foot in the sand. “Ser Criston!” she walked over to the knight, “Aegon and the other children aren’t here.”

“Prince Aegon told us they’d be going on ahead together,” he said innocently. “Why do you ask…” he then mentally kicked himself, “That rascal.”

“Everyone is aware of my son’s proclivity for lying,” she hissed. “Why do people continuously believe him?” Rhaenyra recognized the anger starting to rise in her tone, and took her forearm again, gently rubbing the space under her arm. “Rhaenyra, I swear it,” she said, “He does it on purpose.”

“Or perhaps he believes he needs to prove himself?”

Alicent hesitated, taking a breath. “Let us go and look for them. They cannot have gone that far.”

“Unless they went on their dragons.”

“Oh Gods,” she growled, “Those damnable beasts…Lord Corlys is arranging groups to go into the forest for Y/N and Aemond. Now, we have to find the others on top of them as well.”

“We’ll go together,” she comforted Alicent. “They cannot have gone far.”

Alicent took a deep breath, and Rhaenyra noticed the raw skin around her nails. She put one hand over them, growing slightly. She must’ve done it throughout the night as she tossed and turned. They shared a glance, before Alicent looked away guiltily.

“Come, Your Grace.”

****

Aemond and you set out for the village after a small breakfast. Since you’d been more concerned with shelter at the time, you’re sure the both of you overlooked useful items. Aemond brought his bow, while you carried a small knife on your belt. You insisted upon having your own weapon on the chance you are separated.

The village remained as deserted as the day you’d first arrived. The storefronts, dusty and grimy, had broken glass or charred sills. The natural world reclaimed the area humanity took by growing through the cracks in the floor, and growing vines up the sides of buildings. Birds made their nests high on the rooftops and chimneys of some shacks; you suspected thousands of insects and arachnids made their homes inside the walls and dark places in the buildings. You walked carefully through the market square, where you imagined dozens of people bustling around in its prime. Merchants must’ve had stalls for their various wares; bakers put pies and baskets of bread to sell from their windows, and an apothecary likely handed out remedies and healing concoctions to customers. It was a shell of the village back on Dragonstone. You spotted a tavern, where you pictured fishermen and farmers going after a long day in the sun. Childishly, you saw yourself and Aemond among them. He’d have come home from fishing or hunting or farming, while you laundered and mended clothes or tidied the house or made dinner for you both. It sounded lovely compared to court life, a vicious pit of vipers and flatterers.

You longed for it more when you added your family into the picture.

“We’ll start in here,” he nodded to one of the buildings. “I think it was an apothecary,” he nudged a broken sign on the front with his foot.

You agreed, and followed him inside. Dusty bottles and jars remained cracked or broken on the shelves, the glass crunching underneath your boots when you walked. You remained near Aemond while inspecting the shelves, which didn’t have much to offer but the occasional insect or dried up plants. The ages hadn’t been kind to the village, it seemed. But, you did find a selection of books underneath the bar.

“Look,” you picked out one gingerly, feeling the thick soot on its leather spine. “I found a book.”

“What book?”

The cover bore no title, but once you opened it, you noticed it was a ledger. Faded letters read the names, amounts and items each person bought; no doubt the shopkeeper kept a record of his inventory and coin. Aemond retrieved a second, smaller book.

“This one must’ve been their guide,” Aemond said, flipping through the pages carefully. “For the different herbs and plants that can be used.” He read a bit into one part, “It tells you how to use their seeds and make oils too. We could use this.” He put it in his bag, then said, “Do you think they grew them here?”

“It’s possible. I can’t see where they’d get them otherwise.”

You abandoned the books for the door behind the counter. It was a workshop; the workbench and equipment proved as much. Aemond delicately picked up a mortar and pestle left on the table, the stone smooth on his fingertips.

“Maybe we can use this?” he asked, “For food?”

“Hm,” you examined it next, then said, “We could.”

You tucked both objects into your satchel, and continued looking around. After finding a few bowls, you decided the shop carried nothing else, and moved on through the back door. In bushes underneath the window, you saw overgrown plants with red fruit hanging from the vines. Tomatoes. How have tomatoes managed to grow out here? Rain? You took the ripe ones, then followed Aemond to the next shop, the bakery.

“A wheelbarrow,” he said, finding a disused wheelbarrow beside a large, rusty furnace. “We can hold stuff in here whenever we go out.”

“Good find,” you nodded your approval.

You each put your belongings inside it, then went into the bakery. Of course, no bread or baked goods were found, but you placed a wicker basket, wooden spoons, a tray, and a semi-rusted pan you found near the brick oven. A good cleaning will make them all usable, you decided. The best find turned out to be a small barrel of salt that had withstood the years. Aemond proclaimed not only could it be used for cooking, but also preserving foods, so hunting doesn’t need to be daily. The bakery being stripped, the tavern and several other shops came after. Whatever glasses hadn’t been smashed ended up in your wheelbarrow, as well as blankets or bags for storage. You had also found a large basin and a washer board for clothing. You have no oils to give them a smell, but hot water will get them cleaner.

Picking whatever flowers the book deemed edible or at least useful filling your new basket, the both of you set back home. Each of you holding a side of the wheelbarrow, you felt good about what you’d found. Little by little, you were building your own home, and you loved it.

“I am glad we came here,” you told Aemond halfway down the path out of town. “I think we would’ve liked it here if there’d been people.”

“Me too,” he nodded. “But I like that there isn’t anyone here.”

“Why is that?”

He put down his side of the wheelbarrow, so you put down yours. “Because then I can kiss you as much as I want,” he smirked before doing just that. You’d become addicted to Aemond’s kisses, your cheeks heating up every time you did it. It made you feel more “married”. When he broke away, he said, “And there is nobody to stop me.”

“Except me.”

“Except you,” he nodded.

You stared at one another for a moment. Having him this close to you still made your heart race. He was right. No meddling mothers, no fussy septas, no annoying brothers were around. It is only you and him. Pecking his lips one more time, you smiled and took up your half of the wheelbarrow again.

“We should refill our waterskins and the bucket,” you said, smiling at his dreamy eyes. “We’re running low on water.”

“We’ll go once we’ve put everything back at the house.” He lifted his side, then said, “I can fish in the lake too, if Vhagar and Starshine don’t come down for another drink.”

You vaguely recalled the noise you’d heard last night. “Do you think they’d been flying around here last night?”

“I suppose. I was sleeping.”

Knots filled your stomach thinking of another possibility. You knew as well as Aemond that your families will eventually appear. They’d rip you both apart, and you’d never see him again. Walking in silence, you decided you won’t let that happen. You’d fight for him. You’ll run away again; you’ll both go farther away where you cannot be found. Looking at him walking beside you, spending all this time with him, how could she expect you to want another? How can they expect you to simply walk away from him into the arms of some nameless, faceless lordling? You’d meant every word under that heart tree. You’ll never leave him.

Coming back home, you both unloaded the wheelbarrow, and Aemond placed it near the front door. You started putting your newest floral finds in jars on the shelves. The apothecary guide book stayed on another shelf where you’d stocked the rest of your books, papers, and slate. Aemond sat at the table to try cleaning off the arrowheads he’d found in the blacksmith shop, while you knocked your basket against the edge to shake out bugs or reptiles nested inside.

“What do you think of these as curtains?” you held up the thin sheets you’d found in- what you assumed- was a seamstress’s shop. “They’re a bit mothy and smelly, but I think if I wash them well, and we use the nails to hang them, we can close them at night.”

“Hm, that’ll be nice. They can keep out the wind at night at the very least.” He touched the tip of one arrowhead, “These aren’t as sharp as I thought. Good thing I found the whetstone too.”

“I’m sure they will still get the job done.” You picked through the other fabrics and sewing supplies you found, keeping it in a basket, “I found this old leather. I can try fashioning you a new patch? That cloth doesn’t hold well and I can tell it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he grumbled, using a whetstone now.

“It does.” You put aside the strip of leather, thread and needle before walking over to him. “We should go to the lake now. Maybe we can perhaps have lunch there too?”

“Sounds lovely.”

He stood up, kissed you, and gathered his bow and arrow sheath again. You dumped the waterskins, pail and the tub into the wheelbarrow and walked through the thicket of trees and shrubbery to the lake. You’d been discussing the newest book you’d found in the shop when darkness fell over you both through the forest canopy. Standing still, you tried seeing the dragon’s underbelly through the leaves above, but the thick layers of branches and trees made it discernible.

“Must be Starshine,” Aemond concluded, beginning to walk again.

“Starshine is faster than that.”

“She might be slowing down for Vhagar to catch up. She’s not as fast since she carries so much weight.”

“Not to mention she’s a hundred-and-thirty years old.”

“And still as fierce as her younger days.”

You found his constant need to defend his elderly dragon sweet. “She and Starshine seem to get on well,” you noted, careful not to trip over anything. “I once feared Vhagar might try to eat her.”

“I worried the same. Vhagar isn’t one to spend too much time around other dragons. She’s often alone, but since she met your dragon,” he looked up into the sky, “They seem to be together a lot.”

“Like us,” you grinned.

“Like us,” he nodded with a smile.

You expected to find the pair at the lake, but they weren’t there. They must’ve flown to the ocean for bigger prey. It didn’t matter. It made you happy to see Starshine having an older dragon friend.

“I’ll collect sticks for a fire,” you said to him, “And you’ll fill the skins?”

“And fish,” he lifted a spear he’d made.

You both nodded, then began your tasks. Walking back to the treeline by the lake, you grabbed whatever sticks and twigs you could use for a fire. Having a meal by the water sounded so tranquil. It made you wonder why you hadn’t done it before. You’d thought of making a fire pit with stones when a noise caught your attention. Looking up from the floor, you stared around the area around you. You held your breath, your body going still as you tried catching more sounds. When you heard a faint crack from farther away, you picked up one last stick and slowly walked backwards. Shadows and figures started forming in your mind, and put them between trees and bushes in the distance. You’re being ridiculous. There is nobody on this island but you and Aemond. Still, you stayed alert on your way back to the lake.

Quietly, you started building the fire in the shade of the trees, while occasionally glimpsing Aemond in the water. Spear held up, violet eyes remained focused on the water. You tried your best not to pay too much attention to the woods behind you. If you kept your mind focused on other things, then the less likely anything would happen. As a fire finally kindled in your small pit, Aemond returned with a fish on the end of his spear.

“I finally caught one,” he beamed, his breeches and shirt wet from standing in the water. “There are plenty more in the lake, so I can try later. Once they’re cooked, we can salt them in the larder for a while.”

“That’s wonderful,” you replied, trying to keep the worry out of your tone. “Do you wish for me to prepare it?”

“I can gut it,” he said, taking a seat by the crackling fire, “I’ll cook it this time.”

“Fair.”

You took a seat beside him, and pulled out the small sewing kit you’d tucked into your bag. The leather strip in your lap, you used a knife to cut out a pattern. It wouldn't be the prettiest patch, but Aemond preferred function over fashion. Aemond quietly removed the bones and guts from the fish, which you tried not noticing as you started sewing pieces closed.

“I don’t need a new patch,” Aemond insisted stubbornly, putting the fish onto the tarnished pan.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you do,” you replied, making another stitch to close off one strap. “That cloth doesn’t fit you properly.”

“It does too.”

“It falls off whenever your head is down too long. Also, it’s dirty and I don’t wish for it to affect your eye.”

“How could it do that?” he snorted, “It’s already healed.”

“I don’t know,” you said, head up slightly, “But you need something more permanent.”

“It’s fine, Y/N.”

“Ooh, can a wife not do something nice for her husband?” your annoyance flared slightly at his teasing smile.

“Alright, fine,” he said, pulling out innards from the dead fish. “If you insist, dear wife.”

“Good.”

You managed to make one strap by the time he started cooking the fish. Then, you paired the fish with water and berries you’d picked yesterday. You both lounged near the lake for a time, the hours slowly creeping along to give you more sunshine. You took a break from your sewing to dip into the water. You took off your boots, shirt and breeches until you only wore your linen small clothes. The shyness from the first time disappeared, and you felt Aemond’s eyes on you as you dove into the water. He continued spearing more fish to take back home, but you knew he watched you. You floated on your back near him, shutting your eyes and letting the water drift you around. A natural luxury you’d never find at home. When your body accidentally brushed into Aemond, you giggled.

“It isn’t my fault,” he suddenly said when you laughed harder. “You’re…You…”

“I’m not naked.”

“You might as well be.”

You opened your eyes to see his back towards you. Much like the last time you swam in the lake, you stood up from the water and looked at him. He stood awkwardly with his hands in front of him, and you stifled a giggle.

“I think I will go back to the house,” you said, cheeks heating despite the cool water on them. “I might start on the curtains now, so then we can have them at night.”

“Yes, you, um…should.”

“Be careful, Aemond,” you told him as you started walking away, “I think there might be an animal somewhere in the forest. I heard it when I was collecting wood.”

“I will.”

You left Aemond in the water, gathered up your sewing kit and the unfinished patch, and went back towards the house. You’ll admit knowing you had that effect on Aemond inflated your pride. Water streamed down your legs, and plastered your clothes to your skin by the time you returned to the cabin. A slight chill made you shiver, so you stripped off the soaked clothes to dry in the sun, while you wandered around the cabin in your nightgown instead. You’d started measuring the thin curtain fabric at the windows when you heard Aemond return.

“Do you think we should make them long?” you asked without looking at him, standing by the windows. You heard him putting down belongings on the side table near the door. Weapons and boots are always by the door. “Long curtains might keep out insects and more wind, but then I lose fabric I could use for something else.”

“Whatever you wish is fine, my love.”

“I would still like your opinion on them,” you stretched out the fabric once you nailed it to the window’s corner. It reached well past the window sill by several inches. You felt you’d be wasting fabric by leaving them long. “This is your house as well.”

“It does not mean much to me either way, Y/N,” he said. Footsteps moved around behind you, and you heard the scraping of the salt barrel. “I need to cut and salt these before they spoil.”

“Do it outside,” you told him. “It’ll stink of fish in here otherwise.”

Aemond chortled, “As you wish, dear wife.”

You heard the continued dragging of the small barrel on the floor before it suddenly stopped. Deciding on shorter curtains, you took up your knife and attempted to cut a straight line.

“Now,” you said, turning to face him, “What do you thi-Aemond? What’s wrong?”

For Aemond stared at the window, completely still and focused on something outside. “Aemond?” you called to him again before walking over. When you stepped within a foot of him, he stopped you with his hand. “Aemond, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

Slowly, Aemond reached for his sheath of arrows and bow. “Stay in the house,” he whispered over his shoulder. He flinched a moment, then became fully stiff. “Bar the door. Don’t come outside, no matter what happens.”

“Aemond,” you squeaked. You looked out the window to see nothing but the greenery a few yards from your cabin. It reminded you of the sounds you’d heard in the forest by the lake, and the hairs on your neck stood up.

“Just stay here.”

You reached out for him when he began to move away, “No, Aemond. Stay here with me, please.”

“Keep quiet,” he hushed you, “And keep yourself hidden.”

You bit your lower lip, and stuck yourself to the side of the window facing the forest. Following Aemond with your eyes, your nails dug into the wooden frame and you chewed your lip. Your senses and nerves braced themselves for an attack; your toes curled inward, and a slew of scenarios crossed your mind. Pirates, bandits, feral people, or a wild predator might come flying out of those bushes and kill Aemond. Then, they’d come after you in the cabin, and you whimpered to yourself. Aemond withdrew an arrow from his sheath, notching it on his bow, and stretching it far back to his cheek. His one good eye stayed trained on the space between the bushes. The faint sounds of footsteps cracking the dried leaves and twigs on the ground came through; voices followed it. Voices meant people. You quickly reached for the nearest object, Aemond’s sword, and held it tightly in your hand.

You wished he’d stayed inside with you.

Right as the bushes parted, Aemond let his arrow fly.

****

A/N: A cliffhanger leaving the question of not ‘what’ has found them, but ‘who’? As always, thank you so much for reading this. I always appreciate any feedback you guys have for me <3

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x yn #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd drabbles #hotd imagines #leo ashton #ewan mitchell

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