#this was so much more difficult than the first part

[rainylana]

Eddie Munson x female virgin!reader headcanons

warnings: smut, oral sex both male and female receiving, reader is a virgin, so much fluff. enjoy! let me know if i missed anything! :)

• he knows you’re a virgin, but he doesn’t say anything about it. he can tell by the way you struggle to keep up with his mouth, how you’re not sure where to put your tongue when he puts his between your teeth. your body is hot and awkward, never knowing where to put your hands.

• he doesn’t tease you about it. he kisses you slow so you can try and keep up, he keeps his hands above your waist so he doesn’t overwhelm you too quickly.

• virgins weren’t exactly eddie’s type. he wanted to be with a woman who knew what she was doing, who knew how to have a good time, be reckless and rough. his priorities changed when he started dating you. he had the urge to protect your innocence. he didn’t want to ravish you like he did other woman. he wanted to take his sweet time with you, wanted to take care of you.

• he eats you out first, your legs spread and tossed over his shoulder, arms stretched behind you to keep you upright. you’re in the back of his van, hair falling out of your braid as you cried, the new, overstimulating feeling of his tongue against your pussy making you blubber emotionally.

• you keep putting your hands between your legs, not sure if you’re able to handle to sensation. he’ll look up at you, pussy drunk and hazy eyed. “you taste so good, baby. you want me to slow down?” you do, so he does. he slows down and makes out with your cunt passionately, squeezing your thighs with his ringed hands, sucking on your clit like he was fighting for air.

• when you cum, you sob, your legs twitching on his shoulders. his hands hold you up so you don’t fall. he holds you close to his chest as you come down from your high, kissing your head and telling you how good you did.

• you get up the nerve to ask him to teach you how to suck his dick and he was extremely eager to teach you, happy to help you learn. it wasn’t as difficult as you thought it would be. you enjoyed watching his face morph into different emotions. pleasure, pleasure, and more pleasure.

• “careful of the teeth, honey.” he said, wincing just slightly as he lets his head lay back in relaxation, letting you play with him all you wanted. “now suck on the tip. that’s where we’re most sensitive, right down underneath it.”

• you apologize a lot for how messy you are. you’re eyes are watering and you’re drooling. you keep letting go of his cock on accident. he’s exceptionally bigger than what you had expected, the dark patch of hair slightly trimmed and kept up.

• he doesn’t want you to swallow his cum on the first try, so he quickly grips your jaw and pulls you off of him, squirting himself onto his bare stomach. your throat hurt a few days after, a few bruises in that back that you’d found humorous.

• when he finally fucks you. it’s sweet and slow. he’s got you flat on your back, completely naked and he’s making love to every part of your body, kissing and caressing your arms, your legs, neck and stomach, all the way down to your feet.

• “Ah, that’s it’s, baby.” He says with the tip of his cock pushing into your entrance. “Nice and slow, okay? You’re taking it so well for me.”

• he’s gripping the headboard, willing himself to not move any faster than what he’s already doing. you’re biting his shoulder, whimpering at the burning stretch while his cock is buried inside of you. his mouth is on you, taking in your whines as he bucks into you with his hips, moving a little quicker when he feels you tense up. “cum, baby. it’ll feel so good. cum with me.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #virgin reader! #eddie the brave #eddie x virgin!reader

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I read the post where you answered why you didn’t like Malleus and remembered that you placed Leona really highly on your favs list, and Leona is my favorite so do you mind me asking why do you like Leona?

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

[Anon is also referencing this Malleus post.]

THERE’S A REASON WHY L*ONA IS IN “Unfortunately Enjoy” TIER 😭 I think for like... over a year (2020-2021)? Probably closer to 1.5 years?? I really disliked him and swore up and down that I'd "never in my life simp for the fake cat". This was largely in part due to book 2, which to this day I believe did Leona a HUGE disservice and made him look very unintelligent and uninteresting. Then I was drip fed new Leona content as it steadily came out (vignettes, voice lines, event stories, his return in book 6) and my opinion of him vastly improved. Book 2 was just a really bad introduction to him and it greatly soured my first impressions. sjfyofqebfeiafns B-But now I'm too embarrassed to openly declare, "Yeah, I like a sad muscular l*on man. So what?" Some would say that's tsundere behavior... BUT I SAY I'M COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED FOR ACTING THIS WAY BECAUSE IT ISN'T EASY TO CONFESS WITH YOUR WHOLE CHEST THAT YOU LIKE KINGSCHOLAR OF ALL TWST CHARACTERS

... Anyway! For a much more expanded explanation, I'd recommend this post! It already states a lot of my thoughts, and I don't want to repeat them in yet another lengthy lion-related post. What I'll do instead is summarize the key points for you, plus add some commentary about Leona and Malleus at the end.

Admittedly, he is pretty. VERY pretty. I'm saying this as someone who normally really dislikes hair longer than shoulder length, the "wild"/bad boy aesthetic, and kemonomimi. Leona breaks ALL the rules and still somehow manages to wear everything and anything well because of his sheer confidence and natural grace. His physical features are also very striking... The sharp bright green eyes, the small waist and large chest (there's NO reason why he HAD to be built like that), his stupid smirk, etc.

His pettiness and sarcasm. Leona has, hands down, some of the funniest lines 🤡 I love that he has the balls to speak callously to everyone, including fellow dorm leaders and royalty. His best moments, however, are when he whips out the sarcasm on statements which are so patently untrue--like when he says he is a 'delicate prince' and a 'lost child', both moments from book 6. It's also hilarious whenever Leona speaks in a formal way, showing that he does have the education and the knowledge of how a prince should present himself, but just actively chooses to not make the effort and only does so mockingly or when social grace calls for it.

HIS BIG BRAIN FOLDS, HOLY COW (err, book 2 aside). Leona works smarter, not harder!! He's always one step ahead of everyone else, even if he appears sleepy or disinterested at the time. He figured out the trick behind the "indestructible" golden contracts, he sussed out Jamil WAY before book 4 ever came out (saying that Jamil has "eyes that always glare" and implying that Jamil poses a threat to Kalim's life; this is from Jamil's School Uniform vignette), he takes what he learns in textbooks and so easily translates it to real-world experiences (ie advising the first years on how to more efficiently mine magestones in Vargas Camp), etc. Additionally, Leona knows when to step in and when to be hands off. It's not done out of cowardice or laziness, but rather because he's thinking strategically. For example, he could have resisted capture at the hands of the Ferrymen, but he didn't because it would be smarter to just go with them willingly. It saves everyone a lot of time and energy, and it’s this kind of intelligent thinking that makes Leona really stand out.

He knows how to lead. There are many different types of beastmen, each with own beliefs, values, and traditions that are unique to their own group. As a result, it is very difficult to unify all beastmen within the Sunset Savanna under one rule. Guess who doesn't have this problem? THAT'S RIGHT, IT'S LEONA. There's a variety of beastmen in Savanaclaw, and he effortlessly rules over them and commands their respect.

He actively thinks about how to improve the Sunset Savanna. Leona's ideas are not always the best (like, yeah, you could introduce new technology to the country but expect significant social pushback from the people, who prioritize living in harmony with nature). However, I can really appreciate that he did not entirely turn his back on the people who feared his powers and talked him down. I think he eventually realized the flaws in his way of thinking and actively chose an energy and mining lab internship in hopes of researching ways to slowly implement changes that will benefit the Sunset Savanna while also remaining respectful of the people's beliefs. He is concerned about Falena's lax way of ruling and consistently brings up ideas in various voice lines about how they can improve the Sunset Savanna and its relationships with other countries and tourists. In spite of everything he went through, Leona never wants to hurt those who hurt him with their comments and comparisons to his elder brother. He does not ever want to tear down the system that kicked him down again and again, only wants to challenge it by proving his own merits and the merits of the other downtrodden that he leads.

As much as he wants to deny it, he cares about his underclassmen and goes out of his way to help them. There are sooo many examples of this that it cannot possibly fit in one bullet point. (I would really recommend reading the elongated post linked above, as I go into more detail on this.) Suffice to say, Leona has been shown guiding, instructing, and mentoring many other characters including, but not limited to: Epel, Ruggie, Jack, and various Savanaclaw mob students. This really hits me in the heart because I love reliable big brother characters 😭 EVEN THOUGH LEONA IS TECHNICALLY A YOUNGER BROTHER...

He understands his strengths—and he understands others' strengths too. This man is fully aware of his magical might and powerful presence. He uses every last bit of it to full effect and to attain his goals, whatever those may be. One of my favorite uses has to be In Fairy Gala!! He distracted some pixies by simply demanding water and their attention so his partners in crime could escape—and what’s more, this was a plan he came up with on the spot because their mission was being jeopardized by unforeseen events. Leona is also good about pinpointing people’s best attributes and then helping them hone it. This happens a lot during club practice, bur it also occurs in book 6 between him and Jamil. Speaking of…

THAT WHOLE BOOK 6 CONVERSATION WITH JAMIL DESERVES ITS OWN BULLET POINT. This part was peak mentor mode Leona 😭 Sure, maybe he wasn’t the kindest with his wording, but I felt this was the wake up call Jamil needed to hear. What really got me though was the part where Leona tells Jamil there’s still hope for him… “unlike me”. (I believe this part was translated differently in EN to make Leona’s ego sound more inflated (ie “I’m not like you”) which saddens me immensely.) It paints the image that Leona is still struggling to believe his efforts will amount to anything and that he believes more in his juniors than in himself :(( (which informs my headcanon that Leona mentors younger students so that they can have the bright future he doesn’t think he can have for himself).

Emotional complexity. When you get down to it, what started off as a very basic story of jealousy and inferiority complex actually resulted in a deeply flawed, traumatized, and scarred individual who continues to doubt and put himself down but is slowly recovering. Leona is smart and charismatic—he is everything a leader should be, but he doesn’t truly see his own worth. (Ironically, the only people who do are the ones who look up to him and follow him.) And now… Leona’s actually got his eyes set on graduating! He has his internship plans set! I think he’s made such big strides since book 2, and it’s been so rewarding seeing him regain his willingness to try and succeed return to him.

Looking back on it, it’s so ironic how things ended up working out. Initially, I was totally on Lilia’s side when he insulted Leona and said he would never be the kind of leader Malleus is. Now I’m realizing how Leona does many of the things I don’t see Malleus doing (despite Lilia claiming Malleus is more fit to be king than Leona is).

Malleus isn’t harming his people by any means, but it’s more like he’s… stagnant? Complacent? He’s satisfied with the status quo and is comfortable resting on his laurels. And because of that, Malleus doesn’t really seem to consider what he, as a leader, can do for others, be it for his dorm members or doe his country. (Part of this is also how isolated and opposed to change Briar Valley is, of course! That kind of culture definitely shapes Malleus’s thinking.) He tends to avoid situations which involve navigating social complexities rather than dealing with them himself. Think of Ghost Marriage, when Sebek proposes in his place. Think of Fairy Gala, when Silver is the one that ultimately resolves the conflict between the diurnal fae (who have historically not been friendly with nocturnal fae) and NRC. Malleus is so sheltered that has not truly been put in situations where he has to make tough decisions or where he has been challenged. He has never had to claw and scream and beg for people to see his worth.

Leona has been through that emotional wringer, and though he’s been hurt so badly, he still came out the other side. In running from the shadow of his family—of his older brother—Leona found solace in this new kingdom, Savanaclaw. It’s a place to build himself up, to stew over the ideas he has that have yet to be realized, all with a safe mental distance from home. It’s through the many hardships he has experienced that has refined his wit and given it a place to practice, to be used.

When it comes down to it, Leona and Malleus are two sides of the same coin. Both arrogant princes, the second born and crown prince, respectively, wishing for the other’s circumstances. Leona desperately wants that respect and recognition that Malleus has. Malleus longs for the intimacy and camaraderie that Leona is so easily able to cultivate and command. Leona has been forced to adapt, to learn, to grow from his scars. Malleus struggles with the concept of change (understandable, given his background) and actively denies reality if he finds the truth to be unpleasant. He’s not used to facing dilemmas that cannot be solved with magical strength, and has not ever been challenged in such a way. Malleus doesn’t know how to deal with that, which is partly why be panics and loses himself to emotions in book 7. (By the end of it, I’m sure he’ll be given the chance to see the error of his ways though 💦 or at least I hope he does??)

Their characters are very different, and that’s not a bad thing!! If anything, it makes their dynamic so interesting to observe and it offers varying interpretations of the same “prince” trope. I definitely know which of the two I personally prefer 🤡

#twisted wonderland #twst #Leona Kingscholar #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #book 2 spoilers #notes from the writing raven #question #book 6 spoilers #Jamil Viper #vargas camp spoilers #fairy gala spoilers #Falena Kingscholar #Farena Kingscholar #book 7 spoilers #twst en #twisted wonderland en #advice #Epel Felmier #Jack Howl #Ruggie Bucchi #Savanaclaw #Lilia Vanrouge #Malleus Draconia #Sebek Zigvolt #Silver #Diasomnia

[dyns33]

Only wastelands

I will try to do this Cooper Howard x reader in three parts, but I like the Ghoul so much, I might want to write more

People said Y/N’s neighborhood was lucky.

After a draw, they were selected to join a Vault shelter for free, if something dramatic happened one day, allowing them to survive.

Y/N had received the news with mixed feelings. She didn't want to die from a nuclear bomb, but she also didn't want to think about the possibility of a nuclear bomb falling on their heads.

There was no reason for this to happen anyway.

China and the United States had resumed peace negotiations. The war was going to end and everything would be wonderful. The vaults would then be of no use.

That day, she was washing dishes in her small kitchen. She lived alone, having left her parents who were in another state to settle near Lors Angeles.

Of course, she had first dreamed of Hollywood, and then she had been reasonable, finding a normal job, to live a normal life.

First there was the light. For a moment, she blinked, wondering if she had fainted. And looking out the window, she first saw the smoke in the distance.

Her neighbors were out, she could see them in the street which also looked towards the city center, and no doubt they were talking, but Y/N heard nothing, all her attention fixed on the smoke.

It was just smoke. She watched without being able to move as the cloud grew, before the shock wave reached her house, destroying the windows and shaking the walls.

Screams were then heard, in addition to the sirens. Falling to the ground in shock, Y/N almost didn't get up, but one of the neighbors, instead of thinking selfishly, ran to see if she was still there, helping her to get up and taking her with her to the vault.

Everything happened very quickly after that.

Y/N vaguely remembered those smiling doctors, who explained to them that everything would be fine, doing several exams before putting what they called a pipboy on them, giving them a ridiculous blue and yellow jumpsuit.

"You are now the inhabitants of Vault 8. What has just happened is a tragedy, and we are going to need you to ensure the future of humanity."

They were taken to a large room, with human-sized tubes. The doctors explained that they would be put to sleep, kept in the cold, safe, and awakened only on the day when it would be possible to go out and repopulate the Earth without it being dangerous.

No one could have known that they were not safe at all.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she had a hard time understanding what was happening. There was no light in the vault, except for the one in her crate which had just opened automatically.

Most of the boxes in front of her were open and empty. Then turning around, she discovered decomposing corpses in those that had remained closed.

Her cries of terror brought no one to come, because there was no one in the shelter, just as there were no resources, no water, no food, nothing. Because no one was supposed to survive here.

For two days, Y/N cried, not knowing what to do.

Then she decided she didn't want to die, not like that anyway, and she tried her luck outside. She didn't know how long she had slept, or what she would find, but she had to try.

Her pipboy quickly told her that the air was breathable, despite the presence of radiation in certain places. But that wasn't the most important thing for her, seeing the desert surrounding the vault.

The bombs had destroyed everything, leaving only ruins and sand. Not being stupid, Y/N moved forward cautiously, trying to stay as covered as possible, even if it was difficult with her outfit.

On her way, she encountered two-headed cows, giant cockroaches, and other horrible creatures. No humans though, and she didn't know if that was a good thing.

With war, she knew that men could be much worse than beasts. Maybe they were all dead, from the explosions or all killing each other, or maybe they were still in the other vaults.

But life always found a way, even for assholes, and Y/N was attacked by three men while she was sleeping. Real savages, who talked more about eating her than anything else, laughingly ignoring her pleas.

“Now, that’s no way to treat a woman.” someone then said, stopping them as they were about to cut open her stomach.

"We found the bitch before you, pal ! Go get your lunch somewhere else !"

"Oh, but I think I found my meal. Mistreating a lady."

“You fucking ghoul !”

Too busy trying to get away, Y/N hadn't really looked at the man who had just arrived and was shooting at her attackers. Then, still too busy recovering from her misery, she took a while to raise her head, ready to thank her savior.

He didn't really seem surprised by her terror, although he grimaced as he watched her crawl away from him. She had to put her hand over her mouth to stop screaming.

It was impossible to tell if he had been burned or peeled, but the cowboy no longer had a nose, and his skin was in a catastrophic state.

As she stared at him with wide eyes, he watched her too, his attention settling on her pipboy.

"Ah. A vaultie. I understand the screams better. Never seen a ghoul before, sweetie ? Barely coming out of your little hole ?"

"… Sorry."

"No problem, sugar. You haven't insulted me or thrown things at me yet, it's quite polite."

At first, the ghoul was not very friendly. Yes, he had saved her, but he didn't want her to follow him into the wastelands. He didn't need a burden, and even less if it was a little rich girl.

But Y/N insisted, explaining to him what had happened to her, and the man looked at her with what looked like pity, muttering that she had ended up in one of the "bad vaults".

"I don't understand. What year is it ? Why is it only me who survived ? You… Sorry, what happened to you ?"

"Hey, honey. It's been over 200 years since everything blew up, thanks to Vault Tech. I imagine you and your friends were meant to serve as a pantry or an organ bank but like all their equipment, there's had a problem, and you were very lucky not to die like the others, and since you were there when everything happened, you should be able to guess why I am like this."

The Ghoul was gentleman enough to let her cry without comment.

The world was dead, and all because of money and power. Those who had sworn to protect them had killed them all. Nothing remained but an infertile, polluted, radioactive land, where the few survivors fought between factions instead of trying to find a real solution.

"Please… Don't leave me here…"

"You know, people didn't really like guys like me. It's not a good idea, sweetheart."

“They don’t like cowboys ?”

The question made him laugh. Maybe that was why he let her follow him. Or maybe because he wasn't as bad as he wanted to make out. Surely he felt lonely too, and it was nice to have someone who had lived in the same era as him , and who didn't judge him on his appearance.

Y/N didn’t understand ghoulophibia at all. Yes, they were scary, but that was no reason to mistreat these poor people.

"Okay, we judged on lots of things before, skin color, clothes, religion, but… Now, it's as if we were pointing at a cancer patient and shouting 'Look, he's sick Insult him !”

“It’s more complicated than that, sugar.” sighed the Ghoul, taking out a sort of hynalator to swallow its contents.

He explained radioactivity and the risks for him of becoming feral when they arrived in their first city. A chance for her to stay safe with people, their paths separating quietly.

But after three fights and an attack by Deathclaws, she preferred to stay with him.

So he taught her how to survive, use weapons, hide, follow a trail, earn caps. When asked why caps and not something else, he made a noise, saying he had no fucking idea, but men still wanted something to make business instead of helping each others for free.

After several months, he gave her a name. Cooper. Cooper Howard. He groaned when she asked him if he had anything to do with the old actor who did the Vault Tech commercial.

“Thanks for the bad memories, sweetie. An autograph ?”

“No thanks, never was a fan.”

"Ouch. Not even now, with my new look ? Do you think the cameras would like me ?"

“Let’s say that you will need less makeup for certain types of films, and a bag for others.”

Cooper laughed again, smiling at her with his slightly yellow teeth. It was obvious that it had been a long time since he had laughed like that with anyone.

He told her about his daughter after a year together in the wastelands. Handing her a photo, Y/N could see him as he was before, holding the little girl in his arms. They looked happy.

As she was about to give it back to him, he told her to keep it. It was the most important thing to him, so Y/N could keep the picture safe, and she would know that he would always come for her.

She muttered that she didn't doubt it anyway, putting the photo in her bag.

It was even longer later, when she had proclaimed herself the accountant of their small group, that Y/N noticed an inconsistency between the caps earned and the number of vials Cooper had.

“You should have five more vials.”

“Sugar, leave it.”

"No, really, I counted three times. I know the price by heart, you had fifty caps on your way to town, you should have fifteen vials. Is there a problem ? Has the price changed ? You… You Are you feeling well ?”

"I'm fine, sweetie. Sleep."

“But Coop…”

“Y/N, sleep.”

In the end, the price hadn't changed, Cooper was fine, but since they met, he had been spending his caps on non-irradiated water and food. For Y/N.

This discovery was a shock to her, who often watched him drink from puddles or eat human remains.

He didn't want her to do this. For her to become like him. When teaching her how to shoot, he added that it was just in case, because she wouldn't need to fight while he was there.

And now they were arguing about food, and he was ordering her to promise that she would continue to take what he gave her without question.

"You don't drink that dirty shit. You hear me, sugar ? Can you promise me ? You'll never drink that."

"… All right."

Their relationship was complicated. Cooper had probably told her everything, and yet he kept a distance. He didn't like her touching him, patting his shoulder or snuggling up to him to sleep.

Maybe he was afraid of making her sick. Maybe he thought she would rot on contact with him, and not just her skin.

Y/N really liked him anyway. They were both over 200 years old, even though she had been frozen during that time. They had spent a lot of time together. And even if she was still a little dizzy by his lack of nose, it wasn't the most important thing in a man.

It would have been two years when the raiders attacked. Far too many, so Cooper yelled at Y/N to run, to hide far away. He would come get her later.

Several days passed, and nothing. She was good at hiding, he had shown her, so it was possible that Cooper hadn't found her because she had become too good.

So she returned to the town where he came from, to at least find some informations. People did not easily forget the passage of The Ghoul.

But she didn't have to ask. She saw him in the bar, drinking and chatting with several guys.

Silent, discreet as a shadow, she came close enough to hear, thinking that he was in the middle of an business, and that she could surprise him when he finished with a beautiful reunion.

“You really don’t know where she is, Ghoul ?”

"Nah. Look guys, I know she was a real lil puppy that followed me everywhere, but I finally got rid of her, so I don't really care where she is. Not my problem. It was fun at first, but good riddance.”

She had seen the bomb fall, she had seen the bodies of her neighbors, but Y/N had never felt so bad as in that moment. She could feel her heart breaking in her chest, as Cooper and the others laughed together, mocking her.

Once, he had said that she should never trust anyone. It was an important rule to survive. But Y/N never believed that rule would include him.

With her bag and her weapon, she ran into the night, alone in the middle of the wasteland for the first time since she left her vault, and completely unaware of what she was going to do.

Only one thing was certain, she would never see Cooper Howard again.

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x reader

[penspolin]

I've seen quite a few hot takes regarding Marina's treatment of Penelope, nearly all of which have been purely dichotomous, choosing a side and not really considering the gray area in the situation.

I'll preface this by saying: whether or not Penelope was wrong for writing the LW column about Marina is beside the point. I'm thinking of a particular line that Marina says to Penelope:

"Colin sees you as you are, and regards you no differently than he does Eloise."

The bolded part stands out to me, because what friend says this? Picking this apart, it's very clearly a dig at Penelope as a person--as if who Penelope is is someone that Colin does not take interest in. It's a thinly veiled insult to suggest that the reason Colin doesn't take interest in Pen is because of who she is.

I am so sick and tired of the rigid back-and-forth when it comes to Pen and Marina. Marina was in a difficult situation, but Pen standing up for Colin and attempting to defend him--even using LW to do so--was not inherently bad-intentioned. Pen attempted to address the situation independent of LW first. Using LW had grave implications on a public scale (and was certainly a major blow to Marina, who was already in a tough spot), but I do understand Pen's desire to retaliate to Marina's less-than-favorable comments, especially when it comes to someone Pen holds in such high esteem (Colin).

In the end, I think Marina understands that what she said was cruel, just like I think Pen still harbors regret over how things ended with Marina. But I hate when Marina's comments get disregarded, because they directly play into Pen's insecurities and part of the reason she's a wallflower in the first place.

Marina isn't saying that Colin doesn't "see" her; she's saying that Colin sees her, but what he's seeing isn't worth much. And I think the context of that line and its effect on Penelope is overlooked much more than it ought to be.

#bridgerton #polin #Bridgerton Season 3 #marina thompson #polin bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #Penelope x colin

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 36)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap,

A few weeks later....

For the next few weeks, Cillian stayed at your house most nights, even with his son Max and, soon enough, you found a routine that seemed to work for you both. Cillian had been asking you to move in with him but, after all that had happened in the past, you were not quite ready for that yet.

Your decision to want your own space was somewhat upsetting for Cillian who saw it as another sign that you didn't trust him fully.

You had explained to him that you loved him and that you simply needed your own space to figure things out.

He had reluctantly agreed, respecting your wishes even though he knew that living apart would not be easy for either of you.

The fact that Cillian was not living with you full-time, made him want to make the most out of every free moment that he had with you and it made him crave your presence in a way that he hadn't before.

He became even more intentional about wanting to spend every available second with you, making it a priority to be present and engaged in your lives together, whether it was cooking dinner for the both of you, taking turns rocking Mara to sleep, or simply cuddling on the couch watching a movie together.

Of course, on occasion, you were intimate too but this time, you took things slower, exploring each other's bodies in ways that were both familiar and new. There was no longer a power dynamic between you in bed and having sex with each other was almost a rare treat these days seeing that Mara was a terrible sleeper.

She seemed to sense when you and Cillian wanted to be intimate and would wake up just then, refusing to go back to sleep. 

For you, this did not matter so much as sex was not always on your radar but for Cillian the lack of intimacy seemed to be much more difficult to accept. 

Unbeknownst to you, this had a lot to do with the fact that he was much older than you and, in the back of his mind, he was constantly worried that, one day, you would want to be with someone your own age.  He feared that you would grow tired of him, as he had grown tired of his first wife, and that he would lose you just as she had lost him.

Of course, none of this was ever spoken aloud between the two of you. Cillian had never been one to vocalize his fears, and you had never been one to question his love for you. Instead, you continued on in your routine, laughing and loving one another as if everything in your relationship was perfect.

But it wasn't.

Far from it, in fact. Beneath the surface of laughter and love, there were simmering tensions and unspoken fears that threatened to boil over at any moment especially when the tabloids had yet another field day, discussing your somewhat inappropriate relationship with one another.

The press loved to speculate about the nature of your relationship and whether or not it was appropriate considering Cillian's recent separation from his wife and the fact that you were his brother's stepdaughter and, whilst you laughed it off these days, Cillian couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

At times, you couldn't help but feel that Cillian's career was at stake, and that his reputation was taking a hit because of it. And yet, Cillian did not seem to want to talk about it. He wanted to bury his head in the sand and pretend that everything was perfect, that the two of you were blissfully happy.

But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he clenched his jaw when he read a particularly vicious article. You knew that he was hurting, but you didn't know how to help him and, it wasn't until he came home from his sister's birthday, apologizing to you for something you never thought he would do, that you had your first fight since Mara was born.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and you were both in the living room, surrounded by scattered toys and baby gear. Cillian had been quiet all day, his fidgety behavior fueling your growing unease.

"What's wrong?" you finally asked, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the two of you.

Cillian hesitated for a moment before answering. "I messed up. I really fucking have Y/N," he told you , his voice low and filled with regret.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your heart rate increasing slightly.

Cillian took a deep breath before continuing. "At Siobhan's party last night, I ran into Amanda," he told you and, even before he continued , you could feel your heart clenching in your chest.

Amanda was Cillian's ex-girlfriend and, even though they had only dated for a short time, you had never fully trusted her. There had always been something about her that made you uneasy, something that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Cillian , what did you do?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I did, I -, " Cillian stammered, his voice heavy with guilt and regret. "I don't know what came over me. I had too much to drink and she was there and-"

"Stop," you interrupted him, your voice sharp. "Just stop. I don't want to hear it."

Cillian fell silent, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Y/N. I am sorry, I really am. It was a stupid mistake," he told you while vaguely recalling last night's events. 

***Backflash***

He had been at Siobhan' 40th birthday party, attending without you because Mara had a cold and you did not want to leave her with your mother who had offered to babysit her for you so that you could go.

Thus, Cillian went on his own after you had told him that he should go. It was his  sister's birthday after all and it was important that he showed up. 

He did not know many of his Siobhan's friends and with his brother being in therapy still, he was the only family member that was at the party that night.

The party itself had been organized by two of Siobhan's collogues, one of which was Amanda whom Cillian used to date before you gave birth to Mara. Being polite, Amanda had invited you both, and although she very much disliked you, she simply extended her invitation for Siobhan's sake. 

"I see you came alone, Cillian. Why is that?" she asked intrigued when she saw Cillian standing there, on his own, nursing his drink and, whilst their breakup had been far from amicable, Amanda had always tried to stay in contact with Cillian.

"Mara is sick, so she sends her apologies," Cillian explained dryly,  not wanting to indulge Amanda in any kind of conversation.

"And that's why I chose not to have children," Amanda chuckled before asking Cillian how he was. "How are things with you and your baby mama anyway these days? I mean, the papers are really having a good time writing about the two of you," she  went on, her voice laced with false concern.

Cillian tightened his grip on his drink, trying to keep his anger at bay. "We're doing well," he told her, not wanting to give Amanda the satisfaction of knowing that her words had stung.

But Amanda was relentless, and she continued to press him for information about his relationship with you, probing for any sign of weakness or instability.

Cillian eventually excused himself from the conversation, finding solace in the bottom of his drink.

An hour later, he was rather tipsy and Amanda tried again, this time with an apology.

"Hey, I am sorry about before. I guess I am still holding a grudge over the fact that you broke up with me so abruptly back then,"  Amanda said, her voice softening as she put her hand on Cillian's shoulder.

Cillian looked at her, surprised at her sudden change in tone. "I am sorry too," he replied, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. "I mean. for breaking up with you the way I did. I was a real dick, wasn't I?" Cillian admitted, taking a deep breath and looking at Amanda with apologetic eyes.

"It's okay. I know why you did it. Things were too complicated at the time,"  Amanda replied, her hand still on Cillian's shoulder.

Cillian nodded, feeling the weight of his mistake settle over him once again. "Yes, things were complicated," he agreed, taking another sip of his drink.

"But they're not complicated now, right?" Amanda asked, moving closer to Cillian. "I mean, you and Y/N are happy together, aren't you?"

Cillian hesitated, feeling a sense of unease creeping up his spine. "We are," he confirmed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But that doesn't make things less complicated, Am. I am over twenty fucking years older than her,"  Cillian said, looking at Amanda with uncertainty in his eyes.

Amanda laughed, her hand still resting on Cillian's shoulder. "Yes, you are and that always amazed me to be honest," she said, her gaze fixed on Cillian's face. "I mean, how did a man like you, a successful actor, end up in this kind of situation?"  Amanda asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "She is a sweet girl, but you are who you are, nominated for a fucking Oscar even. You could have any woman you wanted. Why settle for someone so young, naive and inexperienced?" She added, trying to hide the hint of condescendence in her voice.

Cillian took a deep breath, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him. "I love her. That's all there is to it," he told her firmly, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

"Do you really? Or are you just telling yourself that you do because she had your child?" Amanda pressed on, her gaze never wavering from Cillian's face.

Cillian's jaw clenched involuntarily, but he didn't respond. He didn't need to. The answer was already clear in his eyes, and Amanda knew it. She sighed and took a step back, her hand falling from his shoulder.

"Fine. I get it. You love her," she said, her tone almost regretful. "But let me ask you something, Cillian. Do you think you can make this work in the long run? With the age difference and all?" Amanda asked, a trace of concern in her voice.

Cillian sighed, swirling his drink in his hand. "I don't know," he admitted while Amanda reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Am, what -," he started to say, but Amanda interrupted him.

"Ssh, just come with me. I want to show you something," Amanda whispered, her breath warm against Cillian's cheek as she led him away from the crowd and towards one of the lavatories at the very back of the venue. 

Cillian hesitated for a moment, but curiosity got the better of him in his very drunken state.

"What are we doing here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as she pulled him inside the small room and, before he could protest, Amanda had closed the door behind them, locking it with a soft click.

"Amanda, what are you-?" he started to say, but his words were cut off as she pressed her lips to his, her fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss. Cillian's mind went blank for a moment, his body responding to hers even as his mind screamed at him to stop.

"I am just showing you what a real woman can give you," Amanda murmured against his lips, her fingers immediately reaching for his belt buckle. "But I am sure you remember, don't you?" Amanda whispered seductively, her lips brushing against Cillian's ear as she slowly unzipped his trousers.

Cillian's mind was in a fog of confusion and guilt. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't seem to find the strength to push Amanda away. He felt her hand wrap around his growing arousal, and he closed his eyes, letting out a low groan as she started to stroke him gently.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred

#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

[orcatstra]

Dave is not an idiot! [DSaF Rant/Short Essay]

This is gonna be a bit of a yap fest, so if you don’t want to read my entire rant and just want the tldr, then here’s a summary in image form:

I don’t have a complete idea if how I’m going to format or construct this rant, so.. yeah… my bad if it’s kind of messy. I will warn you now, a lot of this information is from memory or obtained from my friend [who knows DSaF info way more/better than me lmao], so I apologize for lack of evidence, but I PROMISE this stuff is able to be proven or agreed upon.

One of my biggest pet peeves in the DSaF fandom, aside from the abundance of employee x boss ships, people making fun of Henry’s body/drawing him skinny, people babying Jack + Dave, and people changing characters’ confirmed/implied sexualities? Oh, you bet your ass it’s when people act like Dave is stupid, dumb, an idiot, and so on. Sometimes I wonder if the people who portray him as such or agree with such portrayals have ever even played the games or paid attention to his character! Of course, I’d probably understand if you just haven’t finished all the games, maybe missed a few routes, some bits and pieces of dialogue, or just saw fan-made content of him being painted as an idiot before you really got to know his character and went into the fandom thinking those were accurate to him! I get that, I understand where you’re coming from if that’s your case! But alas, I am a fan who occupies that rage of a thousand suns when such a complex, three-dimensional, well-written character is watered down to an “uwu yaoi soft boy who doesn’t know anything”.

I’d also like to add before I get to my points that … saying Dave is “dumb” for believing Henry’s lies and manipulation is.. kind of victim-blaming, innit? Even before Henry lobotomized Dave, Henry intentionally planted into Dave’s head the idea that they’re “family”, and family sticks together! Henry took advantage of Dave’s desperation for a family, a father-figure, for his own gain and amusement. Just letting you know! Don’t say Dave’s stupid for being manipulated!!

First of all, Dave is trilingual; He can fluently/decently speak English, Russian, and German! Hell, he might even speak FOUR languages, with his use of French in DSaF 2 (this is referring to when he says “Au revoir, babe!” to Jack)! I don’t know if you know this, but being able to decently/fluently speak several languages is quite difficult and takes a long while to learn!!!! It’s not clearly stated which is Dave’s first language, but i’d assume it’s maybe english or russian. In DSaF 1-2, Dave is forty-two years old, and is approximately seventy-eight in DSaF 3 — If one were to assume that he only spoke English and a bit of French in DSaF 1-2, he’d have 30-40ish years to learn Russian and German.. but you have to take into account that learning new languages is more difficult the older you are.. ok that last part is mainly just hypothetical/speculations, but you get where I’m coming from.. I doubt a homeless child with purple skin/nonhuman traits [features of him that were deemed undesirable and caused him to get kicked out of the orphanage — so i assume people just wanted to avoid him in general] and little-to-no education had the resources needed to learn a new language, let alone multiple… but that’s just my thoughts!

My second point, as you can see in the image, refers to when Dave knew how to play instruments (or an instrument? The trombone is definitely one of them) when he was younger and living on the streets. Again, learning instruments is difficult, but learning on your OWN?? WITHOUT HAVING PROPER EDUCATION?? Yeah man.. that boy’s wise… Also, I’ve been told by my awesome cool friend [ribena59p] that one of the songs that Dave learned BY HIMSELF [on trombone] is “Singing In The Rain”. I don’t have much to say on this point because I think it is pretty self-explanatory/clear.

Third, and I cannot believe people manage to forget this detail [unless they haven’t played DSaF 3 / The Evil Route]; The Fazbunker… You know,,, the bunker Dave built himself under Fredbear’s Family Diner that has several monitors connected to cameras in Jack’s house that STILL work in DSaF 3 [assuming they were initially installed in DSaF 1-2], and has a path to the inside of Jack’s house… yeah!

To add onto point 3; When in his little underground enclosure, Dave also mentions the advanced animatronics he built by himself. The robots in question are clearly meant to be the Funtime animatronics, as they’re described to be chrome, and one specifically was made to scare a Phone Guy who was afraid of clowns [meaning, the specific animatronic in question is Circus Baby]. There was also a brief allusion to the scooper, or of a person hired to be there, and the fact that Jack was possibly the person in question… but this post isn’t about Jack, so I don’t care.

To expand on this… God, he loves tinkering. Dave even says this himself… Like, verbatim! Two of the best examples off the top of my head is when Dave modifies Foxy — One instance is for the purpose of tormenting/horrifying Peter, the other was with the intention of … Jack fucking it. How considerate of Dave! This can also be applied to the previous two points, him creating the Fazbunker and Funtime animatronics, but I felt like it was an honorable mention that deserves its own section!!

Sixth of all, and this section is going to be brief as well [since it’s a bit difficult to get an exact instance of this], but.. yeah, Dave has a great vocabulary! This alone doesn’t mean he’s highly intelligent or whatever, but it DOES point to the fact that even after missing out on a significant amount education as a child, he is still somewhat book-smart!! I mean, compared to Jack’s vocabulary [which mainly consists of more casual and memey words/phrases/tones, prominently in DSaF 1-2], Dave’s is … better. I mean,,, the dude says “adversaries”,,, who the hell says that regularly??

My next point is .. incredibly obvious. You know, Dave being able to get away with several counts of serial child murder, and taking the identity of Henry’s son. I feel like this shouldn’t even have to be explained, because identity theft and getting away with murder SEVERAL TIMES is definitely going to require amounts of advanced thinking and planning ahead of time. Sneaky lil’ bastard. I don’t know how he gets away with faking his identity, but.. you go girl! Steal that dead baby’s name!

Hell, there might even be MORE evidence that backs up my claim, but as of right now I’m just listing things from my memory! I’d like to add that, yes, at some points Dave can act foolish and stupid, but that doesn’t mean he IS stupid. If you were to pick between Dave and Jack on who’s less intelligent, it should.. be Jack, actually. There’s a possibility I will add onto or edit this in the future, but these are just my thoughts as of now!! I got that DOG in me..

But hey, that’s just a theory rant, a GAME THEORY RANT! Thanks for reading!

#dsaf #dayshift at freddy's #dsaf dave #dave dsaf #dave miller dsaf #dsaf dave miller

[cc--2224]

older hunter x reader pregnant in pabu

Next Steps

Pairing: Hunter x F! Reader

Summary: Following the events on Mount Tantiss, Hunter and the rest of the Bad Batch are finally able to relax and enjoy the time they have, you and Hunter decide that means planning next steps together.

Warnings: All fluff, slight anxiety mentions, obviously pregnancy mentions as that was the request, maybe slight S3 Finale spoilers?

Word Count: 1.3k

Notes: Thank you so much for sending a request, anon!! I really hope you enjoy it!! As a reminder, my requests are going to be open for a bit so send me some if you'd like! :)

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added

Masterlist

Ever since they had landed on Pabu for the last time, they had all finally begun to relax, to plant roots, to get to know the villagers. Even Crosshair had seemed more open to socializing with the locals, to learning their trades.

Hunter had always had trepidations about getting too comfortable. 

Back when you had first met, a few years ago now, he expressed that he wanted to get adjusted, to finally sit down and relax but he always felt as if he was looking over his shoulder.

When the island had been attacked by the Empire, you understood what he meant. But everyone was still determined to keep each other, and their mercenary friends, safe.

Part of you feared that when they left to go get Omega back that it was the last time you would ever see them, whether that meant that they wouldn't put Pabu in danger and kept themselves away, or worse. You didn't want that, not only because you liked having them around, liked hearing their stories, sharing meals, but because you knew that you had developed feelings for Hunter in the short time you knew each other. 

You couldn't recall a time where you were more worried for someone's safety than you were after they had left Pabu to find Omega.

You wanted to protect him, to make him feel safe on the island, but you also knew that with everything they had experienced, that was easier said than done.

It only became more difficult once you began to fear you'd lose him for good.

So when they finally returned, you decided to throw caution to the wind. You didn't want anymore missed opportunities, he had to know how you felt about him.

You waited for them to leave the Imperial shuttle, and as soon as he emerged on the gangplank, you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him and crashing your lips into his.

He was rightfully surprised, but after the initial shock wore off, you felt his arms on your back, pulling you into him and feeling like they were going to crush you. He kissed back with desperation and relief washing over him.

When you finally broke apart, you held his face in your hands while his hands stayed firmly on your waist. You felt your eyes water, and you saw the same in him. 

"I'm home." He finally said. "And I'm never leaving you again."

It had been years since then, and true to his word, he never left you. He eventually moved his belongings into your house, and the two of you settled into the next stages of your domestic life together. You got to watch as your lives seemed to fall into place. The island changed around you, improvements, infrastructure, villagers’ families growing. Hunter began growing out his beard, no longer concerned about hating the feeling of facial hair against the helmet that he rarely ever put on. 

Things became simple, time slowed, your lives could finally begin.

You still remembered the conversation you had one afternoon, sitting on the front porch with him, watching Omega play with Lyana, Batcher, and the other three clone children. 

"Do you want one of our own?" He had asked, looking at you earnestly.

You raised an eyebrow, "Want one what?"

"A kid."

You smiled at him and glanced over to the kids playing.

"We have Omega," you reminded him and he chuckled.

"I know, and she'll always be our kid, but she's growing up. Won't be long until she starts living her own life." He looked down at his lap and you reached over to hold his hand, you knew how much the thought of Omega leaving upset him.

"I don't think she'd mind having a little brother or sister." He said when he looked back at you.

"No, I don't either." You drew him close and kissed him on his lips, showing him your agreement to his idea. 

— — —

"Hunter? Are you home?" You called out from the entryway to your house. You were met with silence and shrugged.

Must have gone out.

You had gone to the doctor that morning on Hunter's insistence. He had been hovering around you for a few weeks, as if he had been waiting for a shoe to drop. He didn't know what it was about you that was different, something in your scent, or a change in your pulse, something that he could sense but couldn't pinpoint the source.

You knew better than to argue with his keen senses, but you couldn't help but get a little annoyed with his overprotection.

The doctor had confirmed that you were pregnant, only a few weeks along, and you nearly cried at the news. You couldn't wait to tell Hunter, even if you knew he'd tell you he knew you should have gone to the doctor earlier. 

You decided to wait for him at home. You put on some tea and grabbed your datapad before sitting on the couch.

He finally walked through the door with some produce from the market, smiling at you when he saw you. He walked past you, but not before kissing the top of your head, and left the groceries in the kitchen.

"I went to the doctor's this morning." You did your best to keep your tone level, ambiguous.

It worked, seeing as how his cheerful demeanor had vanished completely when he poked his head out.

"...And?"

You stood up and looked at him. "Hunter, I–" your voice wavered, partially due to excitement, but partially due to nerves.

"I'm pregnant." 

His eyes widened as he looked into yours, then down to your stomach, then back up to your face. "You– What?"

Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes. "We're going to have a baby!"

He crossed the room before you could even register that he had moved. His arms circled your waist and you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and spun.

When he placed you back down, he pulled you to him and kissed you. Tears began rolling down your face as you laughed into the kiss. 

He looked at you and swept his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping away the tears even though his own nearly betrayed him.

You didn't hear the door open, but you heard Omega's voice ring out behind you.

"Is everything okay?"

You both looked at her, you smiled and nodded before opening your arm for her to join your hug. 

She did without hesitation.

"Omega," Hunter began. "Remember how I asked if you'd be alright if there was another kid running around?"

She looked at him and nodded, but then her eyes widened in realization and she looked at you, then Hunter, and then back to you.

"You're not–"

"I am." More tears fell as she wrapped her arms around you. 

"Congratulations!" Her smile widened as she looked at both of you. "I have to go tell Crosshair and Wrecker! They owe me ten credits each!"

She ran out the door before you could stop her and you looked at Hunter and shook your head.

"The whole island will know before long." You sighed.

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Are you ready?" You asked him cautiously.

He looked at you, thinking for a moment. "Honestly, I don't know. I mean, it's been a while since we've settled in here, but sometimes it still feels like the peace isn't going to last. I know that's just my own anxieties, but it's hard to shake the feeling, you know?"

You nodded and looked down. He put his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple.

"But, we have each other through this. I won't let anything happen to you, or our kid. So I think I am. It helps knowing how much support they'll have when they get here. And how wonderful of a mother they're going to have." 

You leaned into his chest. "And father." 

You felt a laugh rumble from him. This was the next step for both of you, and it was a scary step to take, but despite Hunter's worries, you knew you were both ready to face this together. 

#the bad batch #tbb fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #star wars #tbb hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter fluff #hunter x reader fluff #hunter fanfic #tbb hunter fanfic

[flowerandblood]

Death and Resurrection

The Gate of Salvation Universe Oneshot

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, sexual tension, anxiety, doubts related to faith, religious guilt, breaking celibacy ]

[ description: When the Pope decides, after drawing inspiration from TV series, that they will go on a date, she knows that she cannot refuse. However, it turns out that their adventure ends differently than they both expected and a boundary is crossed from which there is no return. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]

This oneshot is the events that take place a few months after The Gate of Salvation and The Songs of Songs. It can be read as a oneshot, but at the same time it is a complement to the entire series.

Aemond as a Pope Edit Series Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

"Where are we going?" She asked apprehensively − they had never gone underground together before, the cramped, dark corridor beneath the Papal Residence through which he led her while holding her hand smelled of centuries-old dampness.

His attire also made her uneasy − he was dressed all in a white tracksuit, a hood over his head and sunglasses with white frames on his nose.

He wore this outfit whenever he wanted to get away somewhere.

"We're going on a date." He communicated softly, as if he was just explaining to her what they were going to have for breakfast. She shook her head, looking back in horror, feeling her heart pounding like mad.

"Please, Holy Father. We can't." She mumbled helplessly, knowing that usually when he came up with an idea it was difficult to dissuade him from it.

She thought with horror that it was because of a TV series they had recently watched. He insisted that she show him the blockbusters she loved as a child on her laptop, so she decided to show him The Office for fun. She turned on a random episode and the main characters in it went on a date, leaving him bewildered.

She thought he would be disgusted by the jokes and humor in this series, but he was intrigued by something completely different.

"What's so great about dating? What's the point of it? Why can't they just meet up and talk about what's important to them?" He asked with a frustration that surprised her.

She realised that his years in the church and convent had completely disconnected him from the life he could have lived as a teenager.

She wasn't sure how she should explain this.

"It's true, however, you can't be serious all your life. Sometimes, as we are doing now, a couple feels like watching a film and just being together. It's pleasant then, for example, to go to eat ice cream, to take a walk in the park, to have shared memories, shared moments." She muttered, feeling embarrassed that her explanation was childish and that he certainly thought she was silly.

He, however, only pressed his lips together at her words, as if something in her words troubled him, his fingers beginning to play with the fabric of her dress covering her knees, trailing over her bare skin after a moment.

"Would you like to experience something like this?" He asked as if unwillingly, tense.

She knew she couldn't ask that of him.

What they were doing was too much anyway, and they both knew it.

She smiled at that thought, squeezing his fingers in hers.

"No, Holy Father. You give me more than I would dare to ask. I am happy and fulfilled." She said softly. His gaze lifted to her as if to see if she was telling the truth − his arm finally embraced her and drew her close, her cheek pressed lightly against his chest.

She was sure he'd forgotten about it, but he'd clearly taken her words so personally that he couldn't get over it.

"I had it all planned out. We’ll blend in with the crowd, have an ice creams, walk around the Vatican and come back. After this we can kiss if you want." He added after a moment, as if he thought that might be part of her ideal image of the event.

She swallowed loudly at the thought, feeling at once terror, discomfort and warmth in her heart, love for him, gratitude at how much he cared, how much he wanted to give her everything she could possibly need in his mind.

She pressed her lips together at the thought that when they stepped outside he hadn't let go of her hand − he intertwined their fingers together as they headed quickly down the main street between the cramped tenements, looking around.

"It should be somewhere in there. I checked on the map." He said excitedly, like a little boy pulling her behind him towards a café that held a huge fridge outside, where you could actually order ice cream.

She looked around as they got closer, afraid that by some miracle even though no one knew what he looked like, someone would connect the dots, someone would recognise him.

As if he always had to wear that bloody white tracksuit.

"Good evening." The girl standing at the counter greeted them, waiting for their order.

"Good evening. We'd like five scoops of ice cream in two different cones, please. What flavours do you want?"

"Five? That's too many, we won't eat it all." She muttered surprised, looking at him in disbelief. He turned towards her, his eyes hidden behind his glasses, all she saw was that he furrowed his brow.

"No? Are you sure?" He asked with disappointment, from which she scratched her cheek.

"I mean…if you are sure you can eat that much then, take it. I'll stick with two."

Holy Father seemed displeased, however, he cheered up when he saw the size of his cone with scoops in cream, vanilla, strawberry, toffee and blueberry. She watched with amusement as he struggled to eat with a plastic spoon what had started to run down the waffle into the bottom of his cone, herself taking her ice cream from the seller.

"How is it? Do you like it?" She asked with a laugh, seeing him lick his fingers, all sticky from the berry cream.

"Very much. It's delicious. What should we do now?" He asked, looking around, eating and at the same time trying not to stain his snowy white tracksuit.

"Let's just stroll."

They moved ahead arm in arm, looking around the evening skyline of the Vatican, focusing only on the food and this surprisingly pleasant moment.

"Have you done this before? Dating and all?" He asked reluctantly, as if the thought that she might have done it with another man before him made him uncomfortable. She looked at him indulgently, trying to hide a smile of amusement.

"Not really. I haven't had the opportunity. I have never been as close to anyone as I have been to you, Holy Father."

"Aemond."

"Pardon?"

He shrugged his shoulders, taking a bit of strawberry ice cream into his mouth.

"That's my name. I won't mind if you use it when we're alone." He muttered, visibly tense, as if what he'd said, the fact that he'd exposed himself to her terrified him.

She smiled involuntarily at his words, embarrassed.

"Very well."

After a few minutes, she could clearly see that the portion he'd ordered for himself had outgrown him − he was eating slower and slower, and it occurred to her that he'd gone pale when she'd long since finished eating her ice cream. He wanted to share his portion with her, but she shook her head.

"I can't fit any more. But if you don't have the strength to eat it, don't force yourself." She muttered, seeing him sigh heavily.

"Wasting food is a sin." He mumbled and continued eating, apparently trying not to think about the discomfort in his stomach.

It wasn't even a few seconds after he had squeezed the last bit of cone into himself when he vomited the entire contents of his stomach into one of the bins.

She ran up to him quickly, horrified, stroking his back, taking from his face the glasses that had rolled down his nose so they wouldn't fall right into his puke.

"Oh dear. Are you okay?" She asked tenderly, at the same time unable to hold back a smile of pity thinking that she had warned him after all.

He was like a little child.

When they returned back to his residence by the same route they had fled he wanted to go back to his room, although he usually insisted that she let him sleep in her bed.

"Let's go to my place. I don't want you to spend the night alone when you're feeling unwell." She said softly, grasping his fingers. He pulled down the hood from his head, all pale, fatigue in his eye.

"I ruined everything."

Though reluctantly, he followed her as she began to pull him towards her room. After he had brushed his teeth and brought himself to order, he lay on the bed without strength − he watched indifferently as she changed into her pyjamas, closing his eyes, as he always did when she revealed her naked flesh.

She was touched by how much respect he had for her, how important it was for him to treat her body with proper reverence.

She lay down beside him, turning off the lamp beforehand, his face immediately snuggled against her soft breasts.

"Do you love me?"

She froze and swallowed loudly, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad under his cheek, her hand that had been stroking his hair stopped in mid-motion.

"I love you. You are the love of my life."

She pressed her lips together when she heard him gasp, an indication that he was crying but didn't want her to see it. It took him a moment to get more out of himself, her lips placing warm, reassuring kisses on his head.

"Forgive me for not being able to give you what you need."

"You give it to me."

"You know what I mean. Sometimes I wonder…" He began and hesitated, swallowing heavily, as if afraid to say his words aloud.

"…I wonder what would happen if I left, if I married you. I imagine we would have had children, a house with a garden. That we would have had a dog. That we would pray in the evening and then make love and it wouldn't be a sin."

She shuddered at his words, feeling a drop of cold sweat run down her back, her body tensed, all hot.

"− I − you would not forgive me for that −" She muttered helplessly. She felt him rise up on his elbow, his lips parted in an accelerated breath, his cheeks swollen from tears.

"− for what? −"

"− that I have destroyed your life − pulled you away from God and your destiny −" She whispered in a trembling voice, feeling a warm tear fall from the corner of her eyes onto the pillow under her head.

He looked at her with a gaze filled with pain, breathing heavily, playing with the fabric of her shirt between his fingers.

"− but it is in your presence that I feel his presence most strongly − as if he were in the room with us −"

"− the devil takes the form of angels −" She mumbled wearily, letting the air out loudly, feeling that her throat was squeezed with pain.

Was this the moment?

The moment when she would have to say farewell to him, do the right thing?

"I have deceived you for too long. Forgive me. I will give my official notice tomorrow."

He looked at her dully, as if he didn't understand what she had just said, his breath stuck in his throat.

"− you said you love me −"

"− I do −"

"− that you won't leave me alone −"

"− I won't leave, not in my prayers − but I'm destroying your life, pulling you away from what matters −"

"− is it because of this stupid date? − I regret ever taking you there −" He hissed, as if he was furious at his idea and the woman who sold them ice cream.

"− no, of course not − Holy Father −"

"− Aemond −" He growled.

She pressed her lips together, swallowing hard, the first time she had seen him like this − his jaw clenched, his nostrils twitching in accelerated, anxious breathing, his gaze dark and cold.

She didn't recognise him.

"− don't you remember what I said to you when I first met you? − there is no greater sinner in the world than me − because I am eternally, eternally thirsty −" He said slowly and carefully, like a predator who was just slowly preparing to lash out at its prey.

"− do you think you know what I desire? − what I really need? − I'll show you −" He said lowly, not even giving her time to reply − his lips immediately clung to hers in an aggressive, impatient kiss that took her breath away, a startled, muffled squeal escaping from her throat.

She felt his body pressed her back against the bed as his hips began to rub his hard manhood hidden under the material of his sweatpants to the spot between her thighs making her shake with a strong, wonderful shiver of pleasure.

"− mghm −" She mumbled out, clenching her fingers in his hair as she felt his slick tongue invade deep into her throat, licking her with its tip − she was panting into his mouth, shocked, involuntarily responding by rocking her hips to his movements.

"− undress −" He breathed out, rising up on his knees, pulling the material of his sweatshirt over his head with a quick, impatient swipe of his hands − she stared at him with wide eyes, feeling her insides clench greedily around nothing at the sight of his bare chest.

Her trembling fingers quickly rose to the buttons of her shirt, undoing it one by one, exposing her skin piece after piece. She shuddered and moaned, surprised, as his hands pushed the material aside, revealing her breasts and stomach.

His lips parted in desire at the sight − his hand tentatively rose higher, running gently over her bare flesh, kneading and massaging her breast between his fingers.

For the first time he was looking at her naked body, at what he was doing, and she felt like she was going to die of desire. It seemed to her that everything that happened next was like a dream − his swollen lips that clung to hers, their panting as they impatiently slid every piece of their clothing off each other, when at last his bare skin pressed against hers.

"− Aemond −" She gasped out into his mouth, feeling his thick length rubbing against her achingly swollen folds, their hands trailing blindly over their naked, sweaty bodies, pressing into their exposed skin as if to melt them into one.

"− fuck − so warm − so soft − like silk −" He murmured, sliding his lips down to her jaw, neck and shoulders, leaving wet, sticky trails behind − her body arched back with her innocent, surprised whine as his mouth finally pressed down around her puffy, hard nipple and began to suck on it.

"− yes − God, yes −" She mumbled, involuntarily spreading her legs in front of him − she heard his grunt of delight as he moved his hips back in a soft motion so that a moment later she could feel the fat, leaking head of his cock begin to push against her slick opening.

She guided him with the movement of her body to where he should slide in, only to hear his sigh of delight a moment later as he thrust deeply into her with an impatient, desperate push of his hips.

"− yes − yes, yes, yes −" She panted, tilting her head back with her eyes closed, digging her fingers into the hot skin of his buttocks, startling him as she threw her legs around his waist, crossing them over his back.

Nothing but grunts and noises of pleasure left his throat as, with his lips pressed against her nipple, he pounded into her again and again with deep, greedy, fast thrusts, from which their bodies slapped against each other again and again with loud, sticky splats.

For the first time in her life, she was experiencing something so animal and spiritual at the same time − him deep inside her, stretching her tight, fleshy walls apart, doing what was natural to man, what Adam had done to Eve back in Eden.

"− forgive me − I −" He breathed out at last, as if with each successive brutal thrust of his hips he understood that there would be no turning back from this, that they had crossed a line after which nothing would be the same again, that he would take her for himself in every sense of the word.

"− inside me − please, inside me −" She mumbled helplessly, thinking only of the fact that she craved his seed inside her, that she could be his lover, his whore, bear his children if it meant spending her life by his side.

By the side of the man she loved.

She reached her peak with a sweet little moan of relief at the thought, at the image of herself and him, holding their children in their arms. She heard him gasp loudly at her words and closed his eyes, panting heavily as she suddenly felt something hot and sticky squirt out of him deep inside her.

"− f-fuck − fuck, oh, God −" He mumbled out, rocking his hips inside her with a loud click of their shared wetness for a moment longer, his mouth wide open, his eyes closed, as if he wanted to remember this moment forever.

After a moment, he looked at her − there was a calmness in his eyes and some kind of certainty, as if he already knew what was right.

"− marry me −"

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #modern aemond smut #modern aemond fanfiction #modern aemond nagst #aemond one eye #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x female #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell angst #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fic

[ur-local-snowman]

MerShark!Soap x Human!Ghost

Part 2/???

Soap absolutely delighted in seeing Ghost take the items he left for him. He made mental notes of what he took and what was left so he could find more for next time.

By this time, it'd been months of him just watching this strange human. He'd never stayed somewhere for this long. There was just something about this man that drew him in.

Soap slowly got more confident. Building his way up to wanting to meet the man. It wasn't until this particular night that soap had realized just how much he wanted to meet him.

Ghost, exhausted after a rather difficult day, had gotten home later than normal. Showered and changed into comfortable clothes before heading down to the pier, as per his usual routine. It'd been a few days since he'd seen a new pile of junk on the pier waiting for him, so this time he looked ahead of him to see if it were there.

Only this time, he saw something else waiting for him. From where he stood, it looked to be a man, sitting on the edge of the pier, placing down said pile of junk, dripping wet. Ghost couldn't make out any important details, other than the muscular looking frame and what looked to be a Mohawk hairstyle.

Ghost was about to call out to them when he took a step, some leaves crunching under the weight of his boot. The man at the pier seemed to startle, looking back towards Ghost before hurriedly sliding into the water, effectively disappearing from view.

Ghost took off, running the rest of the way to the pier and looking out into the water. His first thought was that the man had fell into the water. The pier could be rather slippery at times. But as he looked out into the water, he saw something beneath the surface that made him question it.

It was there and gone before he could blink. A grey-ish blue colored creature with black on the tips of the fins. If he didn't know any better, he'd say it were a shark. Except... Sharks didn't live out this far.

Soap knew he'd been caught. He knew he'd been seen. At this point he was faced with two choices. Stay underwater and pretend he was never there... Or go up and meet this man he'd been watching so closely over the past few months.

He looked up, seeing the man looking over the edge of the pier. He'd never really gotten such a good look at his face before. Even now the water distorts his features slightly.

Giving in to his own thoughts, soap slowly swam up to the surface, a bit away from the man so as to not startle him. He didn't show himself completely just yet, only the top of his head down to his nose showing over the water.

He was nervous, his stomach doing entire gymnastics routines as he watched the man lift his head. The eye contact they made seemed to be the only thing that mattered in the world.

Ghost heard movement in the water, looking up to see what it was. What he didn't expect to see were eyes. Human eyes. Staring dead at him, as if he were the only thing in existence.

The world seemed to stop in the moment, a good few minutes passing before Ghost finally spoke up, his Manc accent heavy in his words.

"You alright there mate?"

Soap could've sworn he forgot how to breathe in that moment. It was even better than he'd imagined. Months of watching this man, observing him, and this is the first time hearing his voice.

As if he'd just remembered something, the man straightened up, looking around in a calm sort of panic.

"Hey I coulda sworn I saw a shark in the water there.. c'mon lemme help you out before you get hurt."

He'd extended his hand out to soap, a gesture to get the man out of the water before some vicious creature came to attack. Soap rose a bit more out o the water, the surface of the water now being at shoulder level as he shook his head.

"No! N-no it's alright-" Soaps accent was just as heavy, Scottish in every way. Upon seeing the look of confusion and surprise on the man's face, he almost shied away.

Soap felt obligated to relieve the man of his confusion, sighing as he dove down I to the water, making sure to flick his tail at the surface to be seen before peeking out again.

TBC -

Part 1 linked 👇🏽 🫶🏽

#cod mw2 #mw2 #simon ghost riley #mermay #mershark #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soapghost #ghoap au #ghoap #ghoap fic

[tokkias]

through the lens of my fingertips ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia summary: They say that when you lose your vision, your other senses become heightened to compensate. Lucy thinks that’s true enough. Losing the sense that she has relied upon the most throughout her life proves difficult at first but that's not to say she forgets the world around her. As her fingertips graze down Natsu's jaw she paints an image in her mind that she's determined to never forget. ao3

happy birthday @shiiro-arts !! ur blind lucy au lives rent free in my mind, i hope this fic lives rent free in yours

They say that when you lose your vision, your other senses become heightened to compensate. Lucy thinks that’s true enough. She’s nowhere near Natsu’s level, but with her new reliance on her ears, she’s become adept at differentiating her guildmates based on their pace, their footsteps, their breathing.

Her improved hearing is certainly helpful, but she finds that touch is the easiest way to navigate the new world she’s found herself in. Natsu refuses to let her out of his sight for the first few months, acting as her guide, but as much as she loves him, she yearns for independence, and she’s not about to let a little lack of sight get in the way of that. She uses a cane to get around for the most part, but her hands provide her with a little more precision in situations where she needs it.

Relying on her hands so much in her new everyday life gives her a new perspective. She notices things that she wouldn’t have given much mind to when she could still see, because now it’s one of the only ways she can visualise the world around her. She notices just how plush her blankets are, her fingers running over the soft pile of the fabric, relishing in the feeling of it against her fingertips. She values the tactile elements of some of her books—the indents of the title on the cover, the raised bump of the spine, the texture of the leather binding it together. She can’t read the words held within it anymore, but it still brings her comfort to be able to differentiate and recognise them on her shelf by touch when she picks one out for Natsu to read to her.

Finding comfort in the tactile is not something she limits to her possessions and collections. The last thing she wants to do is forget the world around her, and one way she tries to prevent it is to examine it through the new lens of her fingertips.

“You’ve been using my moisturiser again,” she says.

She almost wants it to be a reprimand, but it comes out more as a statement than anything. Natsu’s face is unusually soft under her touch, but she doesn’t really mind it.

“It makes my face feel nice,” he replies, and she cannot contest.

Her hands gently cradle his jaw as she connects the shapes she feels under her palms with the image she holds of Natsu in her mind. Tan skin, strong jawline, and newly soft skin. He’s got a little bit of stubble, but not much—he thinks he looks silly with facial hair. Lucy says he looks handsome; he reminds her that she can’t even see what it looks like. She tells him that she doesn’t need to see it to know it’s true.

She brings her fingers up to his hairline, where she realises his hair is down. The corners of her lips quirk up in a smile, and she takes it as an excuse to run them through his hair. He practically purrs as she lightly drags her nails across his scalp, and it elicits a soft laugh from her.

“Is it getting longer?” She asks, noting how it seems to take longer for her to reach the tips of his hair than before.

“Yeah,” he hums in affirmation. “You think I should cut it?”

She holds pause for a moment as she tries to imagine what he looks like, his spiky, rosy hair now grown into shaggy locks.

“No, I don’t think so.”

She lightly drags her hands down until her thumbs rest on the space just below his eye. His eyes flutter closed, which she can feel in his lashes brushing against her fingers, tickling her slightly, and she takes the chance to gently run the pads of her thumbs over his eyelids. Each dip and crease is burned into her memory, pieced together to form the puzzle that is her Natsu.

She hopes that they will be together long enough that she can begin to feel each wrinkle and smile line permanently form on his face. Part of her resents the fact that she will never see him grow old, but she tries to bury that feeling by running her thumb down the bridge of his nose until she reaches the tip. Leaning forward, she places her lips against it, and she feels him scrunch his nose up in response. She knows he’s just doing it to be a pain, but even his faux-disgust elicits a laugh anyway. It’s nice being able to envision the expression he’s making from touch alone.

Fingers trailing down his face, her thumb trails down his cupids bow before resting it on his lips. He turns his head so they rest in her palm, and she feels him pucker them to press a kiss into the soft skin. She feels her face heat up in a blush, and even though she can’t see it, she can feel the corner of his lips quirk up into a smirk against her hand. Natsu’s not much of a traditional romantic, but then he does stuff like this—things that are so distinctly Natsu that she can’t help the way her heart flutters in her chest.

He brings his own hands up to cradle her face, and she leans into the warmth of his touch. His thumbs rub gentle circles on the apples of her cheeks, and she smiles into it. He’s always been an affectionate type of guy, but this intimate sort of face touching is reciprocal—something he wouldn’t have done had it not been for her initiating. There’s no real reason for him to do it when he can see every dip and crease in her face, but it’s nice to feel it, to know he’s there, to experience the same feeling he does when she does it to him. It makes her feel less alone in it all.

It’s not long before she feels his warm breath against her lips, and she knows to pucker up before feeling his against them. She doesn’t need to see to kiss him, so she just relishes in the taste of his lips and the feeling of them melding against hers. They’re a little bit chapped, but they always have been, so she doesn’t mind too much. When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers, and she’s certain that he can feel the warmth radiating from her cheeks.

“You’re blushing,” he says in observation, confirming her suspicion. He says it with a teasing tone underlying his words, and it only serves to make her flush brighter, which she suspects is his intention.

She can feel him pull away and estimate his position by the feeling of his breath against her face. Unfortunately, not even that prepares her for the ruin of their tender moment when she feels his tongue drag over her cheek and hears the proceeding cackle he lets out.

“Natsu!” She yells out. “That’s so gross!”

She wipes her cheek with her hand, her face scrunched up in disgust as he howls with laughter, and as gross as it is, the familiarity of it brings her a sense of comfort.

At least some things never change.

#nalu #natsu x lucy #fairy tail #fan fiction #mya writes things

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART V

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hi everyone! i know i owe you guys SO MUCH so here's a short lil chapter to quench your thirst. more on the way i promise!!! btw this isn't proofread so if u spot any mistakes hit me up. happy reading (or not cause the angst won once again besties, sorry in advance) <3

August 23rd, 2019 

Anaheim, California

You thought that having a shot of tequila would take off the edge of anxiety that had you shaking in your seat, but there you were taking another one, and the tingling in your hands still hadn’t ceased. "Want another?" Renata asked, a bottle in hand and a glint of worry in her eyes as she noticed your unsteady movements. You shook your head; you wouldn't risk it with a third. She waited until the hair and makeup team left the room before putting a hand on your shoulder, the cold of her ring pressing into your skin. "You want to talk about it?"

"It's just nerves," you mumbled, toying with your fingers, trying to brush off her concern. But Renata wasn't convinced, her gaze piercing through your facade. "Is it because of—" she said before you cut her off.

"No," you interrupted firmly, not wanting to dive into that topic. Renata nodded, understanding your reluctance. She simply squeezed your shoulder in silent support, knowing damn well what it was about. As she started to lead you out of the room, you continued. "We haven't seen each other in months."

There it is.

"And the last time we talked, he basically told me he didn't want to do anything with me." Renata's eyes softened; her empathy evident. "He didn't say that," she murmured, her grip on your shoulder tightening.

Your eyes met hers, filled with anger and confusion. "He did. He slept with me and then decided that was it." Renata's expression turned grim as she guided you out of the halls and onto the red carpet. She knew there was more to it than what you were letting on, but who was she to pry?

She faced you while gently fixing your hair as you continued. "But I'm with someone else now, and I'm happy, and I just need to get my shit together." Renata nodded. "You deserve to be happy and move on from this," she said softly.

The chatter of everyone on the carpet and the click of cameras surrounded you both, louder than before. "It'll be just a couple of interviews and photos now. After that, you and—" she hesitated.

"It's okay, you can say his name, Ren."

"You and Pedro will be taken into a photo studio for the official portraits," Renata finished. "Let's just make this quick and painless."

"I can assure you this will be everything except quick and painless," you replied with a forced smile, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach. "But I appreciate your attempt to lighten the mood." She mouthed sorry for a moment before leading you both towards the line of press, where the bright lights and flashing cameras awaited. As you stepped into position to talk to the reporters, you reminded yourself to take a deep breath and stay composed, knowing that it would be okay.

•••

It was, in fact, not okay.

The groan that escaped your lips and the rolling of your eyes were unavoidable. You'd managed to stay clear of him for as long as you could—a complete victory by your standards—and now, with only seconds before you escaped, the very man you had tried to evade appeared before you.

Being within meters of him now, all those firsts, lasts, and never agains were as sharp and vivid as they'd ever been, forming a knot of unease in your chest that made breathing difficult. You hadn't spoken yet, both preoccupied with the rush of media attention surrounding you.

Nonetheless, you took quick glances at him whenever you could.

"Time for the portraits," Renata whispered, as you finished talking to a reporter for the LA Times. "Looking forward to seeing the show!" you nodded, trying to keep your smile in place as you followed Renata. It was a small room with bright lights and a white backdrop, but all you could focus on was the man standing across from you, getting his hair touched up by a stylist. Your own team hovered around you, adjusting your outfit and makeup, but your eyes kept drifting back to him.

The photographer introduced herself, and you were instructed to stand in the middle of the backdrop. You looked each other up and down. God, he looked good, you thought. And then you cursed yourself. Your groan at the sight of him was barely audible, but Renata shot you a knowing look.

"You kinda stole my look," he said, raising an eyebrow. The audacity of this man was infurating. How dare he, after what happened, address you so casually, like nothing has changed between you two?

"Hm, no, you kinda stole my look," you retorted, no emotion in your voice. The tension between you was palpable as the photographer began snapping photos, capturing the silent competition between you two. He was wearing a floral shirt that perfectly complemented your own outfit—a corset-like black top with floral details and black dress pants. However, one little detail caught your eye: the shiny gold chain decorating his neck.

Stop, don't go there. It suddenly became necessary to wash away the awful thought that little piece of jewelry was attractive in the slightest and that cold shower and glass of wine you had been looking forward to at home would now have to happen—but instead of a glass, it would be a whole bottle.

"Okay guys, now let's take some shots pretending to laugh together," the photographer suggested, breaking the tension. You both shared a forced smile, trying to outdo each other in the fake laughter department. "And get closer, please," she added, gesturing for you to move in towards each other. As you leaned in, you couldn't help but notice the faint scent of his cologne. "Pedro, put your arm around her waist," the photographer instructed, prompting Pedro to look down on you.

"Can I?" he asked, ever so politely. The question transported you to a room in Chile, where the tips of his fingers were under your shorts and your mouths were enticingly close.

Stop, stop, stop.

"Sure, whatever," you replied, trying to shake off the memories flooding back. Pedro hesitated for a moment before standing behind you and gently placing his arm around your waist—a moment of unexpected intimacy as your hand followed and rested on top of his. The photographer snapped the picture just as you forced another smile, masking the turmoil within.

"Are we done?" Pedro asked, his voice rumbling in your ear. Despite his complaints, he enjoyed doing photoshoots. They catered to his need to show off.

"Yes, we have everything we need. Thanks guys!"

Both of you quickly separated, relieved to put some distance between yourselves. You didn't say another word as you both gathered your things and headed out of the studio, tension lingering in the air, unsure of what would come next and hating every second of the awkwardness that now hung between you.

•••

The D23 Expo was not turning out to be the fun experience you had hoped for. You've been sitting in the panel room with the rest of the cast and crew for about half an hour, actively avoiding eye contact with the source of your anxiety. Dave was talking about what a huge honor it is to continue his Star Wars journey with a live action series, having previously only worked on animated projects. Jon followed suit, expressing his excitement for the opportunity to develop the series on a more cinematic scale.

Everyone was buzzing with enthusiasm, but you.

"Now I'm going to give the floor to the fans for any questions," the moderator announced, turning towards the crowd with a smile. A teenager in the front row was handed a microphone, anticipation rippling through the audience as she prepared to ask her question.

"Hi, my name's Sarah, and I just wanted to say how thrilled I am for this new series. I am a huge fan of Star Wars, and pretty much everyone here," she said, "especially you and Pedro," gesturing towards you and finally asking the question you've successfully avoided answering all night. "I know you've been friends for a long time. Can you share any behind-the-scenes stories from filming, and how was it working together on this project?"

"Oh, they have a lot. These two were menaces on set," Jon interjected, eliciting laughter from the audience. You exchanged a knowing glance with Pedro before sharing a bright smile with the girl. "I think Jon is specifically referring to the time I broke Pedro's nose and ended up in the hospital."

The audience erupted into a mix of laughter and gasps, clearly entertained by the unexpected revelation as you continued to recount the hilarious mishap. "But yeah, overall, it was definitely a fun and memorable experience working together. We had some great times on set, despite the occasional injury," you added with a chuckle.

"Yeah, she's a brilliant scene partner; I wouldn't change a thing about it," Pedro chimed in, nodding in agreement. If you didn't know better, you would think he actually meant it. The girl beamed at the two of you, clearly enjoying the interaction between you and Pedro, oblivious to the fact that you couldn't wait to get out of there and never see him again.

The moderator intervened, clearly interested in picking up more about the dynamics. "Now that it's been brought up, I was one of the few people who got to see the first episode yesterday, and I have to say there's a lot of on-screen chemistry between the two of you. Is it possible that a romantic relationship will develop in future episodes?"

The answer escaped from your lips instantly. "Not that we can confirm or deny anything at this point, but I think that these characters are very different and have a complex relationship that will continue to evolve as the series progresses, and maybe they work better as friends or allies rather than romantically involved." The moderator nodded, satisfied with the somewhat vague response.

Pedro's eyes caught yours, puzzled by the subtle shift in your tone, before adding, "But I wouldn't rule that out completely."

He was so infuriatingly annoying.

•••

You were in the same room; circling each other the entire day, but he still missed you so much that a brief moment of broken eye contact sent a deep ache cutting through his chest.

Pedro watched you exit the panel room, knowing that he needed to find a way to talk to you. He called your name, making you stop in your tracks and turn around, your face unreadable. Pedro hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach you, before finally blurting out, "Hey, do you have a sec?"

He saw you reluctantly give your PA a nod, motioning for her to leave the both of you alone.

Pedro felt tension slip through him and iron in his spine, and he looked around swiftly to see if anyone was paying attention to them. He spotted a door leading to an empty room and gestured for you to follow him inside. As you both entered the room, Pedro closed the door behind you.

This conversation is inevitable.

Pedro waited for a moment before speaking. "We're working together, and will continue to do so."

"So?" your voice was cold and guarded.

He took a deep breath before continuing, "I think we should try to find a way to make it work."

"I think it's working well enough as it is," you replied, crossing your arms. Pedro couldn't help but laugh at your stubbornness. "Come on, we both know that's not true. You've avoided me all day. People are asking if things are okay between us."

"Isn't that what you wanted, though?"

Pedro shook his head. "What? I never said that."

"You might as well have," you spat back. "Because the way I see it, you don't want anything to do with me." He wanted to reach out, grab your hand and tell you that's not all what he meant but he stopped.

You are being so careful with each other now. It was breaking Pedro’s heart a little.

"That's not true. It drives me crazy when you won’t talk to me,” he muttered. "I…just didn't want to complicate things back then."

"Well, things got complicated the moment we slept together," you reminded him. "And that's on both of us."

Pedro sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "I know," he said softly. "I'm sorry… I didn't handle that conversation very well. I was…" he can't bring himself to finish the sentence. "I don't know."

"You have a tendency of hurting my feelings, disappearing, and then coming back asking for forgiveness," your words come out measured and unexpectedly calm. Bordering on cold.

It was such a sharp, perfect little sting that it made heat pool in his stomach. It made him want to cry.

He said your name ever so tenderly, a plea in his voice.

"I don't know what you want from me," you say, a defeated tone lacing your words. "I moved on, and yet, you keep coming back, reopening old wounds. It happens every time. I can't keep doing this dance with you."

"Yeah, you moved on," and before he can stop himself, Pedro blurts out, dripping in sarcasm, "Quite fast."

Pedro still remembers the shiver that ran down his spine when he picked up his phone one morning, only to see you parading around with Daniel on social media. The worst part was that he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his response. He could tell it echoed through the small space and grated on your every last nerve.

"Fuck you."

A snarl forms on his face, and his upper lip slightly curls. His anger rising to match your own. "Is that all you have to say?" Pedro's voice is laced with bitterness as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. Your eyes burning through him, the air suffocating.

"I had to move on," you simply reply. "You should try it as well." you slipped past him, bumping into his shoulder as you made your way out of the room, leaving him there, trying to remember why he had convinced himself that everything was safer this way because you were too important to risk losing, when in reality, he had already lost you.

And Pedro tries not to love you. He really tries.

a/n: don't kill me please, i know. their time will come, i just need them to reaaaally go through it.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it! thank you for reading :)

#love is complicated #thank you so much everyone for the support mwah #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst

[fandomfucker]

I loved your rhea x singer post, what about one where the readers more of a popstar who's the complete opposite of rhea and how people would react because they're so different from eachother

Link to part 1

This was actually so unnecessarily difficult cause I don't really listen to pop so please excuse any bad choices that may have been made😣

You'd definitely give off Sabrina Carpenter/Chappell Roan vibes

Like that's your aesthetic

Very popular, especially with teenage girls

It's giving floral skirt, flowy lavender long sleeve crop, and white platform boots (something like this)

You're gold while Rhea is silver

You contrast but in a way that works

Verrry girly girly in a way that made people doubt whether you two were actually dating youre so different

People only really accepted it when the two of you started matching, except yours was pink and hers was black

The pink goth isn't really your vibe but you'll occasionally wear it to match with Rhea because it makes her happy

The fans also go absolutely mental when you two wear matching clothes

Y'all dynamic is very much August and Jane from One Last Stop and the fans have even made fanart of you two as them

Rhea wanted to know more about this couple that's supposedly just like you guys so much that she read the book and absolutely fell in love

Back to the singer part though, you'd have songs like

The fans call you Marceline and Princess Bubblegum from Adventure time cause Rheas music taste is very much 💀🕷🦇🔪🩸🖤👁‍🗨 meanwhile yours is very 🎀🩷🌷✨🩰💫🪞

Some songs I think you'd write are definitely not Rhea's taste and it shocked fans to their very core when she posted something about listening to one of your songs before yall officially announced

Because your genre is more indie/pop than anything you have a TON of love songs, particularly about one woman in particular

CASUAL BY CHAPPELL ROAN

Boyfriend by Dove Cameron

I F*cking Love You by Zolita

On the more pop side of the spectrum of your music, Masterpiece by Cloudy June, Song About You by The Band Camino, and (once again) Nothin Like You by Dan + Shay

The fans absolutely live for yalls dynamic as much as they might not have believed in it at first

People totally thought yall would just be too different and break up but youre going on almost 5 years strong now

You switch off on picking halloween costumes every year due to your differing tastes

The costumes and insta pics always go HARD

Rhea's co-workers and wrestling fam all go to your concerts when you happen to be in the same place and they all love your music

While it is a lot more sapphic than most of them are probably used to, its pretty versatile so everyone enjoys

Coachella goes absolutely nuts when you show up wearing a leather jacket made custom made for you to match one of Rhea's jackets

She shows up to Raw wearing the same matching jacket right after and the building about blows up

#rhea ripley #the judgement day #wwe #wwe raw #rhea ripley x reader #the judgment day #tjd x reader #the judgement day x reader #the judgment day wwe #rhea ripley headcanons #rhea ripley imagine #mami rhea #rhea ripley x oc

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (4)

The Book

Though Arianwyn wants nothing more than to devour the book Aemond gifted her, she finds herself tear her mind from Aegon’s taunting words. But as she recalls a difficult conversation with her cousin and lady’s maid from the night before, she decides that perhaps she does not want to be married – ever.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: none

Author's Note: An Alicent POV? It's more likely than you think...

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Arianwyn sat at one of the great oaken tables in the library of the Red Keep, elbows on either side of the great tome before her as she pressed her balled fists into her still-flushed cheeks. She had been waiting for the answers contained in this book for as long as she could remember, but now that they lay before her, all she could think about was Aegon’s words.

“As soon as your father acknowledges you’re alive…”

What did it matter that he acknowledge her? Had she not been taken in by the King and Queen themselves? Lived in their castle, raised alongside their own children? Was she not the Lady of Runestone, head of an ancient and noble house in her own right? Why should her fate be determined by a man she had never met?

Daemon Targaryen was across the Narrow Sea, living happily with his young wife and two daughters. According to the latest ravens, a third child would join them soon.

Did Lady Laena know about her stepdaughter—or Baela and Rhaena about their sister? Did they care? Did they yearn to know her as she did for them?

Likely not, she told herself. Daemon had remarried before Arianwyn had seen her first full moon. He had not written to inquire about her health nor that of her mother. He had said nothing before fleeing across the sea. Ten years had passed, and he had never once written to his firstborn daughter.

He did not want her as part of his family.

“Aria?” Aemond’s soft voice echoed through the cavernous library. He had been wholly silent as they raced through the stone corridors of the Red Keep, passing by her chambers to retrieve the book before coming to the library.

Now, he sat next to her at their usual table, a stack of parchment in front of him. They had been here many times before – at this same table, delighting in each other’s companionship and curiosity, but their hours here had grown quieter in recent years. They were no longer the rambunctious children they once were. Aemond would readily admit much of the fault in that lay with him.

He was not as happy as he once was.

But he was still happy here, in their place. It was perhaps the only place he could still depend on to find comfort and respite. Here, he was never alone. Even if Aria was elsewhere, he could still find her in the books. The winding rows of shelves held happy memories of their childhood, when they first delved into the paper forest in search of knowledge.

Here, they had uncovered the great tales of their ancestors and felt the great legacy that sat upon their shoulders. Only now, Aemond realized the true, overwhelming weight of that legacy.

Just after his tenth nameday, Aegon had caught Aemond reading one of the more romanticized books of Valyrian history in the library. He snatched it and began reading aloud. “And so the fair Princess Elaenyra was granted mercy by her uncle, the noble King Synar, for he knew she was not to blame for her father’s treason. They were soon married, and Elaenyra became Queen. In the end, Prince Vaerion succeeded at placing his blood on the throne, but at the cost of his very life.”

Aegon laughed, holding the book aloft so Aemond could not take it back. “Is this history, or is it one of your fairytales?”

“It’s history!” Aemond whined, jumping to try and reach the book to no avail. “You would know that if you actually cared about our family’s past. Now give it back!”

“But it’s so stereotypical for real history,” Aegon finally let Aemond have the book again, but the mischievous smile remained on his lips. “The king rescues the fair princess, and the second son is killed for his hubris. Actually…” He made a show of looking over his brother from head to toe. “I suppose that’s quite realistic.”

Something about the way he said it made Aemond panic. He went into a deep obsession, trying to prove Aegon wrong. He read through the histories furiously for every mention of second sons. Not just Valyrian history but that of the Andals, First Men, and every other civilization.

In every book he read, the second son never got a happy ending. Most died young, having been sent to battle in the place of their more valuable elder brother. Some survived, living to see their sibling take the throne. Of these survivors, many became valuable advisors and received the great honor of being mentioned, however briefly, alongside their King’s noble deeds. Others earned more notoriety by attempting to build their own legacy. Whether they tried to usurp the throne or establish their own lands, those men died bloody. From what he could glean from the stories, the best he could hope for was to fade into the annals of history.

Aemond had never told Aria of this revelation. He knew she would not understand.

She still saw the glory and romance of these stories. And why shouldn’t she? As the only daughter and heir of an ancient Westerosi house and a dragonriding descendant of Old Valyria, there was no doubt that her story would be a legend told for ages to come.

Until fate decided otherwise, Aemond would cherish being a small part of that legend.

Aria dropped her hands from her face, draping them over the book he had given her only that morning. “What?”

Her steely eyes were more distant than Aemond had ever seen them. No girl should look that way on her nameday, especially not her. “Are we going to read the book?” He asked, tapping his quill on his parchment for emphasis.

She looked down at the faded title pressed into the linen. Then, to Aemond’s delight, she finally smiled.

“You never told me how you found this,” she said, carefully prying open the ancient tome.

Aemond grinned eagerly. This was a story he had waited a long time to tell.

“I wrote to my Uncle at Oldtown,” he began. “Not Hobert – Devran, the Maester. He is an archivist in the library at the Citadel. Maesters there have been studying the Runes since the Andals first came to Westeros. I told him how important being able to understand them was to you, as the future Lady of Runestone.”

Aria looked away, focusing instead on the inscription on the book’s first page. It did not stop Aemond from spotting the way her cheeks flushed.

He continued, “Devran spoke to the other archivists and the Conclave to find out if they had any information there that we did not and if he could get permission to send it here. But they had nothing to send.

“When King Jaehaerys made peace with the Faith, he ordered copies made of everything in the Citadel. Knowledge is powerful, and he did not want the Maesters to be the only ones able to wield it. But the libraries of the Citadel were not exhaustive. A few libraries of the older houses, especially in the North, had books the Maesters considered unholy, so they weren’t copied. An initiate from north of Winterfell told Devran about the library at the Wall. It is small and ill-cared for but has been untouched for hundreds of years. So he wrote to the Maester there – I forget his name – and found this.”

He reached across the table and touched the page, indicating the title. Deciphering the Runes of the First Men. The author’s name had long since faded. “I don’t know how accurate it is. Devran made sure I knew it was only a theory, but it’s still more than you ever had before. I had my mother write to the Maester at the Wall to get it sent here. It took two months; I was almost worried it wouldn’t arrive in time.”

Hearing his tale, Aria’s smile had returned in full force. That was why he had spent so long trying to find this perfect gift. There was no sight quite like that smile. It illuminated her whole face, sending a delicate sparkle into her silver eyes.

He loved that smile.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Aemond,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes from the book. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he replied, “just read.”

Hours later, both children lay underneath their table, their chairs long abandoned. Instead, Aemond lay on his belly, chin resting on his crossed arms as he tried yet again to comprehend the page in front of him through increasingly blurred eyes. Arianwyn lay perpendicular to him, using the flat of his back as a pillow while she sorted through the dozens of pages of parchment Aemond had filled while she read aloud.

Again, they were silent. But it was not the angry silence from earlier that day nor the melancholy silence that often followed Aemond. It was a happy silence—comfortable and inviting, like the silence that fills the air of a fire-warmed family hall on a snowy day.

Aemond groaned and let his head topple onto the book before him. “Aria?”

“Yes?”

“Why did Aegon make you so angry? Earlier, at the party. What he said was no worse than usual.”

Arianwyn tensed and sat up. She did not face him but crossed her legs and folded her arms around her. The words, when spoken, had evoked burning hot anger. Now, their memory only caused her heart to race with panic. “Because I am afraid to be married.”

“What?” Aemond shot up so swiftly that he hit his head against the bottom of the table with a loud ‘thunk.’ He stared at her as if she just said she wanted to marry her dragon. “But you haveto get married someday. It’s your duty. Why should you be afraid?”

Arianwyn scoffed, “And it may be your duty to go to war one day! Are you not afraid of that?”

“Of course I am,” Aemond insisted, “but that’s war, not marriage!”

“Marriage can be just as dangerous,” she whispered, too soft for him to hear. For the second time that day, her mind drifted back to what happened the previous night.

After dinner, Ser Gerold had insisted Arianwyn retire to her rooms early. He claimed she needed rest to prepare for the party the next day. But when the door closed behind them, he dismissed all her servants but one. Brynna Taler, who had formerly been a lady’s maid to her mother, Rhea, and was now Arianwyn’s, was allowed to remain.

Arianwyn knew immediately that something was wrong. Gerold was always so happy around her, loud and nearly boisterous. But as he sat in front of her now, elbows on his knees, he seemed nervous and visibly struggled to find words.

Brynna, at last, stepped forward. “Tomorrow shall be an important day, Aria. We wish to speak with you before the party to prepare you.”

Arianwyn looked between her cousin and her maid. “What is there to prepare for? It is a party.”

“It is not just any party,” Gerold said, speaking at last. “It is the party celebrating your tenth nameday. The Queen and I have discussed it, and we agree that tomorrow is the right time for you to start... meeting the young men of the realm.”

“But I have already met them,” Arianwyn said, puzzled by her cousin’s words and grim tone. “Most of them, at least. They have been to court before.”

Gerold laughed once, an uncomfortable sound. “Yes, I know. But it is time you start to… get to know them better. To consider them not just as visitors to court, but as potential companions.”

“I don’t understand,” Arianwyn said, beginning to mirror her cousin’s nerves. “I already have friends.” She looked toward Brynna, “And companions.”

The maid smiled. “Oh, my dear child. Allow me to explain.” She knelt on the floor in front of her. “Ser Gerold and I have both feared this day, but we have put it off for too long.”

She cupped the girl’s face in her hands, savoring her innocence. “Tomorrow, the Queen shall introduce you – or reintroduce you – to many of the noble boys your age. For when the sun rises, you shall no longer be a girl but a woman coming into her own.”

Arianwyn shied away from Brynna. “I am not a woman until I am twenty, and I take charge of Runestone.”

“That is when you shall come into your title,” Gerold said. The age had been decided when she was first put in the king’s care. She had never learned its reasons. “But you will be a woman before then. And though I am loathe to admit it, a woman needs a husband. You need a husband.”

At last understanding, Arianwyn nodded. “So, I must meet him tomorrow.”

“No!” Both adults shouted at once.

Gerold cleared his throat. “Tomorrow is only the beginning. We let the nobility know of your eligibility and allow you to meet their sons. No decisions need to be made tomorrow, nor the next day, or even in the next few years. I personally do not want to see you wed until you are six and ten. But we do need to begin somewhere, so it shall be tomorrow.”

Arianwyn nodded. She had expected a husband to come more naturally. He would save her from tripping on a dance floor or bring her wine at a ball. She had even imagined, on occasion, of saving a dashing young knight with Emrys, and together they would fly off to Runestone. She had never expected to meet him by appointment.

But she was the Lady of Runestone. To marry and bear children was her duty. Her romance may not be like the stories she had read for so long.

“I understand. I will do my best to present myself well tomorrow.” She stood from the couch and began to make her way to her private chambers.

“Wait.”

Arianwyn turned back, unsure what else there was to say. But a grim look from both her companions chilled her blood. Tentatively, she stepped back to the couch and sat down. Such a gloom fell over the room that she dared not speak.

“It is time you learned how your mother died.”

Tears sprung to Arianwyn’s eyes at the memory of the gruesome tale. She had come to realize that Daemon did not care for her, but she had never imagined the depths of his cruelty. She was so consumed by her thoughts of grief that she did not realize when Aemond crawled along the carpeted floor to sit beside her until he put his arm around her.

Noticing her wet eyes, he lowered his voice. “Why are you afraid to marry, Aria?”

She could not tell him. Gerold had told her so. They could not predict what Daemon would do if the tale got out. Besides, there was no law against a man raping his wife, and the King had never truly punished his brother before.

“I am afraid,” Arianwyn started, “because I do not want to leave. King’s Landing is my home, and all my friends are here. I don’t want to go back to Runestone with only a stranger for company.”

She supposed it was not a lie. The Red Keep had been her home since she was two months old. Except for Gerold, all her family and those she cared about were here: the king, queen Alicent, Helaena, and Aemond.

“Then I shall come with you,” Aemond declared, sitting as tall as he could under the table. “I shall travel to Runestone with you and your husband and make sure he is kind and treats you with honor.”

Arianwyn smiled. He had no idea how reassuring those words were, even if what he proposed was impossible. “And what will you do if he does not? If he is cruel to me?”

A fire blazed in his violet eyes, the fire of so many Targaryen kings and conquerors that came before him. “If he does anything to harm you or even make you sad, I shall cut off his head and feed it to Emrys!” he declared, entirely serious.

A brief moment of devoted silence passed between them. But in a heartbeat, both children collapsed into laughter, their studies and troubles forgotten.

Queen Alicent Hightower observed the children from between two distant shelves. She had witnessed the confrontation earlier at the party but had been too deep in conversation with some lord from the Reach to intervene. Not that her interventions had any impact on how her children behaved. Not anymore.

“Were there any tempting offers?” her father’s voice rumbled behind her. He had been sneaking up on her like this for years – she did not flinch anymore. He had only been back at court a few days – ostensibly for Arianwyn’s nameday – and already he was grating on her nerves.

Alicent sighed, hand instinctually flying to grasp the amulet around her neck. “A few. None I plan to pursue.”

“Hmm,” her father placed his hand around her shoulders to lead her away from the sharp ears of the children. “I think I best to seal her betrothal while her father remains in Pentos. We don’t want to lose that advantage.”

The Queen brushed off her father’s arm. Rage took root in her heart at the mention of Daemon, the horrific tale Gerold had relayed to her just hours ago still ringing in her ears. “Arianwyn is not a political advantage to be leveraged.” Her voice was as fierce as she would allow in the quiet of the library. “She is my niece, dear to me, and a great friend to my children – two of them at least.”

Otto blinked, raising his chin to look down his nose at her. She hated that look. He only used it when he considered her behavior foolish and immature.

She steeled herself to continue, “She is a young girl who has lost her mother and been abandoned by her father. I do not doubt that if he ever returns, Daemon will see her as a pawn for his own aims. Until she comes of age, there is little I can do to protect her from him – or any other man who seeks to manipulate her. So, I will do whatever I can for her while I still can.”

Not waiting for a response, the Queen swept out of the library.

Taglist: @heartb8k2 @queenofshinigamis @leptitlu @xxxkat3xxx @malfoycassimalfoy @lokiofasgard12

#aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond imagine #prince aemond #aemond x oc #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd aemond #aemond fic #hotd fanfic #aemond xf!oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #the silver dragon

[ihaveverything]

Limitless manifesting for beginners

part I - basic concepts

part II - states, techniques, change

ʚ part III - mental diet, sats

part IIII - daily life, time (coming soon)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

On your journey to success, you may find that manifesting does inevitably come with an art of discipline and persistence. However, this is not to say it’s tiring, draining, difficult, or effort based at all. The discipline comes naturally, and persistence is without resistance. As the creator of your reality, you are met with infinite probable selections. Infinite states you may occupy, therefore leading to infinite possible realities you could experience. Taking responsibility for this and making the decisions that align with the life you wish to live is being, not doing or trying

Mental diet

The process of mental dieting can be quite confusing at first because there is a constant nagging reminder that you are supposed to return to fulfillment as frequently as you can. However, this is not about setting a schedule or reminders throughout the day to try to slip into the state a certain number of times an hour. Even though returning to states should be easy and the goal is to truly embody that new identity as much as you can, it is common for people to get distracted from being, and focus too much on trying.

It’s understandable to experience some good days and some bad days. There will be days when it’s easier to feel optimistic about the Law in general, and days where all you want to do is give up and spiral. The key point here is that positive thinking and optimism isn’t the reason why you can maintain a more stable mental diet. Mental dieting is to help change your beliefs. Each moment you return to the state of the wish fulfilled is to identify with a different probable reality where you are experiencing your desire. It is a choice you are making to feel what it would be like to have your desire. It is not thinking about your desire with little conviction. There is a difference between “okay I have my SP back. did I feel it right?” vs “I accepted the feeling of being back together, therefore I am experiencing aligned thoughts and emotions due to my conviction in knowing this will reflect into my 3D.” Acceptance is always the first step in this equation. Trying to do anything, whether it be forcing the state of the wish fulfilled, forcing the 3D, or using effort based techniques such as robotic affirming are all less efficient than accepting what you want to be true for a moment.

“Stop trying to change the world since it is only the mirror. Man’s attempt to change the world by force is as fruitless as breaking a mirror in the hope of changing his face. Leave the mirror and change your face. Leave the world alone and change your conceptions of yourself. The reflection then will be satisfactory.” ― Neville Goddard, Your Faith is Your Fortune

Additionally, there is no such thing as waiting to feel fulfillment. It’s understandable to have fear or doubt around feeling like you are unable to fulfill yourself whenever you want, but the truth is everyone needs to stop waiting. Make the decision now. Don’t tell yourself you’re gonna go all in tomorrow or next week or after the next motivational video. You occupy a state of awareness every single moment of the day. There is no excuse not to give yourself your desire now, because of the following quote:

“I will be” is a confession that “I am not “ The Father's will is always “I AM.” Until you realize that YOU are the Father (there is only one I AM and your infinite self is that I AM), you will is always “I will be.” ― Neville Goddard, The Power of Awareness

When you are feeling down on days where you’re not so confident about your manifestation skills, it’s at core a reminder that you are still viewing life as someone who is “trying” to obtain a desire that seems separate from you. We have been manifesting and creating our whole lives. Even your personality is based on the beliefs that created your environment starting from when you were born. We often let our mind run on autopilot and allow it to entertain negative possibilities that we expect to unfold even when nothing has been seen in the 3D yet. We place such faith in expecting the worst when it is unseen, but we rarely do the same for the positive best outcome, because society has taught us all about probability, things going wrong, luck, and every other reason which implies there is something or someone outside of ourselves that can control an individual’s reality. Expectation of the negative, whether it be you’ll never get that SP back, they are in love with someone else, you will lose that job, or overall the Law just doesn’t work will often lead to feelings and emotions of fear, lack, anxiety, etc.

“Sensation precedes manifestation and is the foundation upon which all manifestation rests. Be careful of your moods and feelings, for there is an unbroken connection between your feelings and your visible world. Your body is an emotional filter and bears the unmistakable marks of your prevalent emotions. Emotional disturbances, especially suppressed emotions, are the causes of all disease. To feel intensely about a wrong without voicing or expressing that feeling is the beginning of disease – disease – in both body and environment. Do not entertain the feeling of regret or failure for frustration or detachment from your objective results in disease.” ― Neville Goddard, Feeling is the Secret

When manifesting anything, the key to being is knowing how you and your desire are one. Everything already exists within you, and that combined with how creation is finished should be a powerful understanding that brings you to realize there is no such thing as “doing” this or that to make your 3d change. Your awareness of being is enough. By conditioning yourself into an identity / state you become one with it and manifest that state into reality. You, while far more than the state you are one with, have to become it by placing your awareness on it. Doing this is as simple as the decision to be something, you choose to become aware of being that state, and it manifests when it is natural. It should be noted that the time it takes to make something natural is dependent on the frequency, not the length of time, so do not expect months or years to yield results. In fact, such a long time with no success is a blatant mistake that you are either lacking discipline in your mental diet, or a failed approach due to more effort than being.

“The future must become the present in the imagination of the one who would wisely and consciously create circumstances. We must translate vision into Being, thinking of into thinking from. Imagination must center itself in some state and view the world from that state.” ― Neville Goddard, Awakened Imagination

“To move into another state or mansion necessitates a change of beliefs. All that you could ever desire is already present and only waits to be matched by your beliefs. But it must be matched, for that is the necessary condition by which alone it can be activated and objectified. Matching the beliefs of a state is the seeking that finds, the knocking to which it is opened, the asking that receives. Go in and possess the land.” ― Neville Goddard, Awakened Imagination

Everyone has their own choice for what method they prefer to use for manifesting. Some people like affirmations because it feels like a solid statement that helps them feel into the state. Others may choose visualizing since scenes may help them get their imagination running. Ultimately it does not matter what you do as long as you are focusing on the end result while patiently knowing that it will become your reality. We all gained interest in the Law because of what it promises us, but if you aren’t being the promise first, then results won’t come to you no matter how much “effort” you put in. As Yoda once said in Star Wars:

“Do or do not, there’s no try.”

SATS

Your sleeping hours are just as important as your waking hours of life. Your sleep plays a major role in your manifestation, so the last waking state you occupy is crucial. “You must be in the consciousness of being or having that which you want to be or to have before you drop off to sleep. Once asleep, man has no freedom of choice. His entire slumber is dominated by his last waking concept of self.”― Neville Goddard, Feeling is the Secret

A method of aligning your state with the wish fulfilled while you are drowsy is commonly known as SATS. Although SATS is often done right before falling asleep, there is nothing special about the time of day you do this. It is equally effective to do SATS as soon as you wake up or during the day. It is an extremely helpful way to manifest, but it differs from techniques such as affirmations, visualizations, scripting, etc because it’s a state. Affirmations themselves hold no meaning, and the scenes you visualize aren’t what manifests either. State Akin to Sleep refers to the deep state of consciousness during meditation or just before falling asleep. The reason why Neville recommended this method is because your last waking state is what dominates your entire sleep, and it sets the ground for your next day. You will often find that falling asleep in the state of the wish fulfilled vs in a state of lack can be very different for how easy your mental diet is the next day.

There are 2 different ways to go about SATS, but ultimately they both aim to achieve the same goal: making sure your last waking state is aligned with having your desires.

The traditional way is what many people know. Finding a comfy position, visualizing a short 10-15 second scene that implies your manifestation is fulfilled, looping that scene until you fall asleep.

The second way is simpler because some people feel like looping a scene puts too much emphasis on trying to “make it work” or “do it right” instead of focusing on the feeling and being part. There will always be people who don’t enjoy doing that, but because the goal is to fall asleep in the state of the wish fulfilled and not necessarily how perfect your scene is, so an alternate way is to enter that state right before you knock out, and it will be just as effective.

Your SATS scene does not have to be perfect at all. It doesn't matter if you visualize in first person or third person or how you go about this, because your only goal is to focus on the intention you set for your scene. Just like your daily mental diet, knowing and conviction is what brings about your desire. This is also why it's not absolutely necessary to loop the scene and even beat yourself over it not being a perfect cycle.

source tba

#law of assumption #manifesting #loa #loa blog #loassumption #neville goddard #3d #4d #manifestation #edward art

[bkgpackets]

CHP. FIVE | YOU'LL FALL IN LOVE ON YOUR OWN PACE (WITH MY LITTLE THINGS)

SUMMARY: Katsuki has settled into a routine-like dance with you ever since your debut as a hero. He takes care of you like harmonious clockwork, but as he peels layer after layer, he’s caught up with his own tantalising feelings when he finds your blood staining his hands. You teach him, slowly, of what it means to fall in love.

TAGS: pro hero au, fem reader, banter, hurt/comfort

CHAPTER LENGTH: 1,288 | SERIES MASTERLIST

When you wake up, the sight before you is beyond gorgeous. 

Last night, plagued by the heavy sleepiness in the afterglow of sex, you two had tumbled onto the bed before he had the chance to shut the curtains. Now, rays of golden sunlight stroke themselves across Katsuki’s face meekly, as if they’ve afraid of being grazed by the sharp corners of his visage. The ash blond of his hair becomes sandy in colour, edges rounded as he stirs in his sleep. You breathe, and you get lungs full of him— woody caramel sweetness. 

You fight the urge to hold his face with all your might, so much so that your concentration wakes him from his slumber. He looks domestic in the way he slowly blinks to get the drowsiness out of his eyes, eyelids barely staying open as his pupils begin to focus, and you see the moment everything registers in his head, the memories flowing from last night and the view in front of him right now clicking— and he lets his eyes widen and his lips part, before yawning and rolling into the bed again, with you in his inescapable hold. 

Getting up proves to be difficult after that, only with the umpteenth ringing of your alarms that you finally decide it’s time to leave the safe haven and begin your day. 

You can tell he’s in a chirpy mood, despite not being a morning person. The way he shuffles from hallway to bathroom and back, the way he slips on his clothes, they’re all done with less aggression. 

You also cannot deny that your mood has been lifted from the slight change in routine. Your morning run was shorter— two minutes faster than your usual time; when you had your shower at the agency, the cold water hit your back more pleasantly; usually insufferable sidekicks became more compliant, easier to deal with. 

An hour before your first patrol, your manager stalks into your office with a cheshire grin, demanding you to tell her every little detail of last night’s rendezvous with the Nation’s favourite hero. You put up little fight, though you knew you’d tell her someday anyway, you comply and begin the retelling of your favourite story, how careful he had held you in his palms, how loving he had been shampooing your hair, and all the other moments in between that are still burned into your mind as clear as day. 

Your work goes by in a breeze. You find that little inconveniences in your life can be smoothed over by imagining how Katsuki looks when he wakes up, but recalling might be a better word. 

It’s six o’clock, you’re packing up and getting ready to leave the office, your glass desk is wiped clean, shreds of paper thrown away. The door knob is cool when you hold it, you have your earphones in your pocket, for when you finish greeting the passionate interns working overtime out in the hall with tight-lipped smiles. 

The evening sun is particularly orange when it hits the tall potted plants, giving the sacramento leaves a brownish shine; the off-white walls look old, like they’ve already been filled with memories of past owners. When you walk through the corridors and lobbies, you’re thankful that you haven't lost your quirk, your heartbeat, nor your Katsuki. Maybe a few months back, the disappearances of these everyday occurrences wouldn’t cross your mind, they’re regular constants in your life that have made their markings on you— made you a mosaic of them. It strikes you that just as Magnesium is a metal, death is always walking next to you, no matter where you go, he’ll be stepping with you when you cross the road, when you go on the balcony, and when you cook dinner. An inescapable truth that cannot be denied by anyone, not even the most powerful parts of society. 

So when you leave the door of your agency and see a familiar-looking Lexus parked on the side of the road, with that unruly bunch of blond hair that you’ve found yourself too enraptured by, your smile is uncontrollably vehement. 

When Katsuki drives you home, it’s done without a word. You know this path by turn, every street name and every corner is familiar, you know that he’ll strum his fingers against the steering wheel aimlessly while he waits for the red lights to turn green, and when he pulls into his penthouse building’s parking lot, you know that the monthly cost is roughly ¥70000 and that his assistant pays it on the first day of each month. 

You know him, so you’re not surprised when he opens the door for you, his house unfurled and vulnerable in the dimming golden rays, laid bare in front of you, letting you take in all its glory when it’s still daytime, and similarly, you do the same to him, Katsuki. 

You think he had just finished showering before he came to pick you up, the way his hair sticks up is funny-looking, wild in every sense of the word, when he walks past you to grab your bags and shoes to set them down, the woody scent trails after him. You wonder whether you look awkward and out of place, unmoving in the entry with your hands at your sides, covered in fabrics that are dark in an apartment that is warm and next to a person who is bright. 

He doesn’t let you think far, he soon takes your hand in his, and gently leads you to his living room, where your feet drag and thump on the carpet in dull thuds. He leaves you, awkward and out of place, in the middle of the room, in front of the TV and next to the signed All Might poster he framed, he walks over to the— oh, the record player you gave him for his first ‘Hero of the Year’ award. It’s placed neatly on a dark wooden stand, and under it are stacks of vinyls, from local bands to overseas artists that you introduced to him, he clicks it on and gravity takes you with both hands as you put one foot in front of another, stumbling along the rhythm of music. 

Bakugou has always been a hummer, but when he sings to you for the first time tonight, it’s thick and heavy, laced with something he can’t say aloud, it sounds a lot like a confession that soothes over you like a second skin.

In a few, dinner will be served, you two will eat shoulder to shoulder with a quiet chatter, and in between are the whispers and soft spoken words, as if there’s someone eavesdropping behind you, he’ll lean closer towards you as the night settles in, drowsiness and exhaustion will begin to creep onto the way he speaks and into the way he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. 

In an hour, you’ll be hands deep into his sink, scrubbing hard at the dishes while he stands next to you with a torn rag in hand and with a dish rack to his right, he’ll take the two plates and the four chopsticks you hand him, then he’ll place them tidily into the rack, like you’ve been doing this for years— like harmonious clockwork. 

You’ll shower, then his fingers will tease and dance around yours under the sheets, you’ll feel for his callouses, the rock solid proof of his hard work, and you won’t be able to brush lotion onto them, but only snuggle your head closer and tighter and more intimately to his shoulder. 

He’ll learn to say I love you on his own terms, he’s got all the time in the world. 

#“Everytime I wanted the hangout to be at Blasty’s #I’d just threaten to tell you about his feelings and he’d stop protesting the second it leaves my mouth #you’re literally magic.” #and that's it ! im so sorry for everything i put u thru #sy.katsuki #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader

[acewritesfics]

More Than Enough | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: From Anon

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Eddie being hard on himself, teen pregnancy, mentions of readers mom being a horrible person. Swearing. 

Word Count: 1,390

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

1984 - the first year Eddie was meant to graduate.  

“Eddie?” Y/N calls out to her boyfriend as she enters the trailer, she now lives in with him and his uncle.   

She hears him respond, “In our room,” and moves in that direction to find Eddie. His long, curly hair was pushed back and held in place by one of her scrunchies as he sat on their bed with his back to the wall and an open textbook on his lap. His tongue stuck out, like it always does when he is concentrating on something, and his brows furrowed into a grimace. His doe-brown eyes quickly skimmed the pages while the pencil in his ring-adorned hand tapped repeatedly against the book. She could feel the frustration rolling off his body.  

The young couple had a difficult two weeks, especially Eddie. They learned that she was pregnant. After spending a week throwing up and being unable to hold anything down, her mother had taken her to the doctor. Even when they were high, the two were usually cautious when having sex, so this came as a surprise. It soon came out that the condoms they were using were ineffective. Everyone was notified about it through an article in the newspaper.  

As soon as they got home, her mother kicked her out, mortified that her teenage daughter was carrying the local freaks baby. She arrived at Eddie’s trailer sobbing and soaking wet from the rain. When she announced to him that she was pregnant, he was as shocked as she was, but he wasn’t shocked that her mother had kicked her out, for that he had never felt so furious with the woman. Eddie had never been a favorite of her mother’s. Like most others in town, the middle-aged woman had the same opinion of him. That evening, after Y/N had gone to sleep, he had spoken to his uncle explaining everything to the only parental figure he had left.  

The older Munson allowed her to move in with them, but only after establishing certain ground rules that they had to follow. She only had the backpack she had packed with some clothing, her school materials, her diary, and some photographs when she moved in with her boyfriend and his uncle. A few days later, her mother had dropped a box off with additional clothing and personal items when she knew no one would be at the trailer.  

Being the wonderful boyfriend that he is, Eddie supported her however he could. He created some space for her belongings and began setting aside part of the cash made from his drug transactions to use for the things they would someday need for their unborn baby.   

He intended to apply for a position at the factory where his uncle worked. He was aware that it wouldn’t pay much, but they would have enough saved by the time Y/N began her maternity leave from her job at the convenience store where she occasionally worked after school, and on the weekends.  

But when he learned he wouldn’t be graduating this year, those plans fell through. Because he had to repeat his senior year, he was heartbroken that he couldn’t graduate this year with her and couldn’t provide for his little, growing family the way he wanted to.  

“I don’t fucking get it,” Eddie grumbled, his brow furrowing even more as he focused on the book on his lap as she leaned against the threshold to their bedroom.  

“You don’t get what?” She questioned, gazing at him sympathetically, wishing she could do more for him. She had made an effort to speak with the guidance counselor to see if there was anything they could do to help him graduate this year. She helped him study for his finals while also giving him all encouragement and support he needed it.   

“Why you bother with me?” He snaps, slamming the book close, and then throws it and the pencil he was using to the side. He raises his knees and lays his arms on top of them, an anxious look in his eyes.  

She enters the bedroom and kneels on the bed in front of him. She takes his hands and begins fiddling with his rings. “Because I love you, you idiot.”   

“I’m not good enough for you,” he expresses his current feelings. He always thought she could do better than him, but she continually assured him that he was everything she wanted and needed. But now that she was pregnant, he wouldn’t be graduating with her, and the only way he could support his family was to sell drugs to his classmates, he wasn’t sure if she could reassure him that he was enough for her and their unborn child. To him, they deserved someone who could support them without risking going to jail, someone who wasn’t going to be in their second year of senior year and someone who could land a well-paying job. They shouldn’t have to be constrained to living in a one-bedroom trailer they could hardly afford; they deserved to live in a decent house. They deserved someone who wasn’t called a freak and looked down upon. They deserved someone who wasn’t him. He gestures to their small bedroom. “You and the baby deserve more than this. You both deserve more than I can give you. You deserve better than me.”  

“What are you talking about?” she said, perplexed as to what was going on. “You are enough for me. You treat me like a queen. You continually make me feel loved, supported and appreciated. No one else can make me laugh like you do. When I’m sick, you always take care of me. You always check to see I have what I need and if I don’t, you go get it for me. On the days when I need to feel extra loved, you love me even more than you already do. When I drag you into the living room and turn on my favorite song, you dance with me. You cook dinner when I’m too tired to do it. When I need you to wash my back, you get in the shower with me. And when I told you that I was pregnant and that my mother threw me out, you stayed with me and took me in.” She pauses to take a deep breath, as her emotions began to take over.   

“You’re going to be just as amazing and wonderful with our child,” she continues. “She won’t care that we might struggle, that we share a trailer with your uncle, that her dad has to repeat his senior year. All that will matter to her is that you’ll love her just as much as she adores you. You’ll be her world, her hero, and the first man she’ll ever love. Edward Munson, you are more than enough for us.”  

Eddie didn’t say anything as he cupped her face and pulled her into a breathtakingly passionate kiss, expressing his undying love for her and apologizing of his own self-doubt. As she moves closer to him and she presses her lips more firmly on his and she grins. Eddie maneuvered them into a lying position with him hovering over her. Breaking off the kiss, he shuffles down, lifts the shirt she was wearing—which just so happened to be one of his Iron Maiden shirts—and presses his lips to her abdomen, where a small bump was beginning to form. His own flesh and blood, a perfect mix of him and her, was inside that small bump.  

He looks up at her with a mystified expression. “You said she. How do you know it’s a girl?”   

“Mother’s intuition?” she shrugs, lifting her arms.   

“You know, even if she’s a girl, I’m going to teach her to play D&D,” he states pressing one more kiss to her belly once more before moving back up her body to come face to face with her again.  

She’s smiling from ear to ear as she watches him and runs a hand through his hair. “Of course you will. She’ll be a Hellfire Club legacy, our own little dungeon master.”  

He kisses her again mumbling against her lips. “I love you so much, the both of you.”  

“We love you so much, too,” she responds deepening the kiss. 

#acewritesfics repost #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader