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midnightsnyx · 1 year

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what if i told you (i love you) part 1 - joel miller

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: five years ago, pregnant and alone, you left boston after a fallout with joel but when he shows up in jackson, you have to deal with the aftermath. word count: 1.4k warnings: angst (loads), mentions of pregnancy, non-specified age gap, (please let me know if i missed something!) a/n: this is my first time writing joel so pls go gentle on me lol I am planning on making this a series if u guys like it! let me know :) i know joel is usually pegged as a girl dad which i love but i thought it would be fun to write a mini joel! this isn't edited so i apologize for all mistakes. also i am taking requests now so ask away! masterlist ask box what i write taglist signup

You hadn’t anticipated seeing him. When you left the Boston QZ five years ago after finding out you were pregnant, you never wanted to see Joel Miller’s face again. Not after you broke the news and he told you to get out - that he wanted you gone. Tess had told you to give him a few days to cool down and let the news sink in, so you did. You waited a couple days, which turned into a week and another and once a month passed, you realized you couldn’t wait around for Joel to get his head out of his ass so you packed up and left Boston. You had heard rumors of settlements out West and took the chance of going to one. It was a risky move, especially being pregnant, but raising a child in the QZ was impossible. Bringing a life into this world alone was cruel but if you could make it to one of the settlements, you thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And you did. After months of traveling and close calls, you made it to Jackson. You couldn’t believe how close to normal it was there. It felt like before the outbreak which felt impossible but somehow they did it. You made friends and had support when you finally delivered.

Little Jack came into the world with the helping hands of Maria and your friend Avery. You named him after Jackson, the little community that welcomed you with open arms. He was absolutely perfect and as he grew, he looked more and more like Joel. It hurt you that Joel wasn’t here to see his son grow but he had made his decision the day he told you to leave.

The life you built in Jackson was good enough. You taught at the small school in the morning and spent the rest of your day with Jack and your friends. Every so often you went on patrol but with Jack, you had to find someone to watch him. Avery offered to keep him for the afternoon while you went out with Maria and some others for a quick patrol. Someone thought they heard gunshots going off and your group was sent to check it out. You thought you would come across some raiders or maybe a couple stragglers but what you weren’t expecting was to find Joel Miller and some random kid. It didn’t surprise you that he was looking for Tommy and you watched for Maria’s reaction when he told her his name.

In Jackson, Joel’s name wasn’t a popular one to those who heard it. Tommy had recounted the days that he, Joel, Tess and others had spent that still gave him nightmares and you didn’t have many good things that you shared about him. You kept the good things to yourself and only let yourself think about them on nights you were particularly lonely or sad. She hid her reaction better than you would have but you were a little surprised when she invited them back to town. As soon as you got back, you went straight to the stables to drop off your house before going to pick up Jack from Avery’s. You wanted to just go home but he fought you tooth and nail to go to the dining hall to see Hazel, an older woman in Jackson who was the first person to take you in when you first arrived. She treated you like a daughter and in turn, treated Jack as a grandson.

When you got there, Hazel was delighted to see him and you couldn’t help but smile when Jack squealed and ran straight for her. Watching them, you felt a set of eyes on you and when you looked, they met Joel’s. As usual, his expression was impossible to read. He was sitting with the girl, Ellie you’d briefly heard, along with Tommy and Maria.

“Some new folks, huh?” Hazel asked, breaking you out of your daze. She knew the story about Joel so you were hesitant to tell her who they were but she would find out eventually.

“Yeah, Tommy’s older brother and the girl is Ellie,” you told her, “apparently they traveled all the way from Boston.”

You watched as the realiztion slowly dawned on her face, hiding an amused smile when she said, “where’s my shotgun?”

“It’s fine,” you tried to reassure her, “I don’t think they’re staying.”

She huffed, “I should’ve poisened that food.”

You shook you head, taking Jack when he reached out to you. He was getting sleepy, resting his head on your shoulder and babbling nonsense. You could still feel Joel’s gaze, so you told Hazel you would see her tomorrow and started walking out when you heard your name called.

Tommy.

You weren’t sure what his plan was, he knew your past with Joel so you took your time walking over to where the four individuals were seated. Maria was giving Tommy a dark look and you knew she didn’t agree with his interfering.

“Hey,” you said lightly, trying to ignore Joel’s eyes that were now focused on Jack. Ellie was looking between you and Joel and you could almost see the wheels turning in her brain.

“I was wondering if you had time to take Ellie to the house next to yours and let her have a shower? Maybe find some new clothes?” Tommy asked and held his hand up when Joel started to argue.

“Sure,” you said, motioning for her to follow you. She gave Joel one look before following you out the door. It was cold and you hugged Jack, who was now asleep, tighter to you. She was silent until you were a couple minutes away from the house, whistling.

“So, I take it you and Joel know each other?” She questioned, walking faster to keep up with you. You wanted to drop this kid off before she accidentally got answers out of you. She continued pestering you after you just shrugged and you wondered how Joel, of all people, managed to make it from Boston with the girl. She seemed sweet enough but lord, she was chatty.

“What’s his name?” She asked, pointing to the sleeping boy in your arms as if there was another child around.

“Jack,” you told her and she smiled.

“Like, Jackson?”

“Nice catch,” you praised and she grinned.

You showed her to the shower, before searching for some clean clothes. It took a few trades but you managed to get her some fresh clothes and a new jacket. When you returned to the house, you ran into the one person you were hoping to avoid. He froze when you walked in the front door, clothing in hand and Jack still on your hip. Your back was aching from carrying him but he was unusually clingy. His eyes locked on Joel, head tilting slightly before reaching out for the older man, surprising the two of you. Joel stood frozen even as Jack reached for him, whining slightly.

It was Ellie who broke the awkward silence, walking down the stairs in the fluffy robe you left for her. “You gonna take the kid, or what? He’s not contagious.”

You were hesitant to let Jack go but after he let out an angry wail, you put him down and watched as he walked over to Joel and reached for him, making a grabby motion with his tiny fists, the universal pick me up signal from a child. The man awkwardly picked him up and you immediately saw the similarities between the two. You always thought he looked like Joel but looking at the two of them together, a paternity test wouldn’t be needed.

“Woah,” Ellie said, taking Jack’s hand when he reached towards her, “he looks just like you.”

You ignored the insinuating tone in her words, opting to watch the interaction between the two boys. Joel’s sole attention was now on the toddler in his arms. His whole body softened when Jack rested his head on his chest and you suddenly felt a rush of emotions. Shoving the clothes in Ellie’s arms, you took Jack from Joel and fled out the door, ignoing both voices calling out to you. You didn’t stop running until you were in your own house and rushed to put Jack to bed before going to your own room. Not bothering to change, you crawled under the covers and tried to hold back the sobs threatening to escape you.

You had spent the last five years trying to get over the heartbreak Joel Miller caused you and suddenly the man himself showed up and brought back evey single feeling you had for him.

And you hated him for it.

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller reader insert #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #allies writing #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction

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l3viat8an · 10 months

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Roooo I was feeling insecure about my babyface so here I am! What do you think the brothers' reaction to an MC who's an adult but looks much younger their age be? Like chubby cheeks, big eyes, they have the whole package-

I feel like Beel would try to eat their cheeks atleast once, even if it's as a joke lol

Lucifer doesn’t say much about you face tbh. But if you’re ever with him when he’s drunk he’s trying to pinch your cheeks endlessly, practically cooing about how cute you are!!! He can’t help it, you’re too cute and it’s something he has to hold himself back from doing when he’s sober.

Mammon (I say this as nicely as I can lol) he’s gonna be a bit of a bully at first. Making jokes about humans being babies and how you just prove this. He’s just trying to cover up the fact he thinks you’re cute- after awhile the teasing stops and he’s very genuine with compliments.

Levi do you know how many anime characters he can name that look like you??? Too many might get a little bit annoying asking you to dress up as certain characters. Head over heals simp almost immediately ;)

Satan loves your eyes. No matter what, Satan always loves your eyes and he’ll tell you how perfectly they match your face. A little weird with his complements but he’s always genuine.

Asmo is shameless in the way he loves to pinch and kiss your cheeks and complement your eyes any chance he gets!! You’re absolutely adorable and he’s never letting you forget it!!

Beel absolutely tried to nibble / does nibble on your cheeks at some point. Same why he used to nibble on Belphie’s when they were kids lol

Belphie on the other hand is another boy that loves to pinch your cheeks. Tho he also makes jokes about you looking young, but he’s not as mean as Mammon was at first. Softer about it yk?

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oweninadaydream · 1 month

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𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧!𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Steve and you interrupt your lazy afternoon to discuss a very serious (or is it?) matter...

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Modern!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : pregnant!reader, established relationship, just pure fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 777

𝐚/𝐧 : I had lots of fun writing this at like 2 am lol. Hope you enjoy it! ☺️💐

Steve was in the kitchen, trying to cook dinner as fast as he could before your cravings had the chance to change and make you suddenly disgusted just by the smell of what he had been preparing for more than an hour. Today's delicatessen consisted of Hawaiian pizza with a side of pickles.

Normally, you would hate pineapple on pizza (you just can't stand mixing sweet and salty like that) and your hatred for pickles was known by all of your friends (specially by Robin, who had to hold up your hair as you vomited because she once gave you a bite of her sandwich which happened to contain the infamous ingredient), but your boyfriend wasn't willing to contradict his pregnant girlfriend who was extremely sensitive.

He was pulled out of his thoughts after hearing you call his name. "What's up, sweetheart? Everything okay?" he asked from his position.

"We need to have a very serious talk right now" you answered in a monotonous tone.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the end of Steve Harrington. After he felt that his heart had started pumping blood again, he hurried to the living-room where you had been chilling for most of the afternoon. You looked fine, there was nothing on fire and your stomach seemed as round as the last time he had seen it, so what was going on?

"Go on, I'm listening love" he encouraged you to begin revealing your thoughts.

"The baby is due in a couple of weeks and we haven't even decided which movies they're gonna watch in English and which ones in Spanish" the stress in your voice was easy to detect. Steve looked you straight in the eyes and he could swear that he had fallen in love with you all over again in that very instant. How could you be so adorable?

"Oh honey, I love you so so much" he cooed while leaving small kisses all over your face "we can discuss it now while the pizza is in the oven if you'd like" he offered.

Your native tongue was Spanish and ever since Steve and you started thinking about having children, you had known you'd raise your kids to be bilingual "They will not be no sabo kids, not on my watch".

Steve was more than thrilled at the thought of mini versions of you and him walking around, babbling in some strange form of spanglish. He had taken up Spanish after meeting you, and even though he was not the fastest learner, his disposition had taken him very far in his journey to be closer to you through language.

"Okay, so do you have any ideas?" he asked "Actually, yes I do" you quickly changed your expression to show enthusiasm "I've got a mental list of some non-negotiables. First, Enredados"

Steve hummed in acknowledgment as he had already guessed you would say Tangled, your mom's favorite Disney movie. Your mother didn't understand much English so this was a logical choice, as she wanted to watch the film with her grandchild and bond over it.

"Then, we've got Tarzan" "Tarzan?! The guy that sings the songs in the Spanish version is the same guy as in the English one, Phil Collins's accent is obvious. Also, y'know, it was my favorite movie as a kid" he tried to argue in a calm manner "...Well, I guess you're right. They can watch that one in the original version" One point to Harrington.

"What if you suggest one? I wouldn't want to impose" you commented. "Don't worry cielo, you keep going and I'll think of one or two more for me to choose" the fact that the first words he learnt were the pet names you liked the most was just one of the many proofs of his love for you " All right!!! So I had thought about El Rey León, Tiana y el sapo, Bichos, Aladdín..." you then proceeded to list almost every animated Disney movie. Steve could have stopped you at any point but the enamored haze clouding his thinking process wanted to indulge in your every desire.

The oven started beeping, alerting both Steve and you that dinner was officially ready. "Let's go, it's time for dinner" "But, what about the movies?" you pouted "Mi amor, we can do whatever you want in regards to our child's cinematic experience" "The bedtime stories can be in English, your dramatic interpretation of The three little pigs will impress them for sure" you suggested after realizing that you had monopolized the whole Disney films industry and feeling bad about it "Thank you, darling. Practice makes perfect"

Happy girlfriend, happy life, right?

P.D : Phil Collins ate and left no crumbs in the Spanish soundtrack, we appreciate him in this house !!!

#oweninadaydream #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x fem!reader #modern au #modern!steve harrington #fem!reader

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reveluving · 1 year

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I AM BACK AGAIN WITH MY HEAD IN HANDS AND HORNY BRUCE WAYNE ON MY MIND I NEED THAT MAN ABSOLUTELY INSANELY DESPERATE FOR BATMOM. SOMETHINNG ABOUT THE URGE.... DELICIOUS

BRB MICROWAVE NOISES ARE HAPPENING IN MY HEEEEAD 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

writing milf!Batmom was bound to happen at some point lol I was waiting for the day to finally happen fr fr SO HERE ❤

warnings: smut (18+ content, minors DNI!)

Look, with that many kids in the household, did you really think no one's going to talk about how sexy of a mother Mrs Wayne is?

Don't get me wrong, Bruce being called a DILF is not uncommon! Just look at him; a rich and respectable hunk of a man, who is also a father of six children and counting? So much hotter than when he was known as a playboy all those years ago. It was only natural for the public to talk about the missus in question as well.

Who could've possibly been the one to finally tame the Bruce Wayne and better yet, encouraged him into the married life?

You, obviously, and boy, did the public understand why.

No matter how much the media tries to deny it, they can never ignore your beauty, your grace, and dare I say, your MILF-ness.

C'mon, everyone's eyes were always on you the second you'd step foot into the gala. Oh, Mrs Wayne is here, in her new silky, silt-cut dress, matchint heels and jewellery that complements your every feature?

Sign me the fuck up!

You may have acknowledged the reputation bestowed upon you, but what you didn't realized was just how strong that power was.

But, of course, your reputation comes with a bit of a price to pay. Not by you, but by your children.

If there was one thing Dick, Jason and Tim were especially too familiar of hearing, especially on social media, it's about you, and the Internet can be very open with their thoughts. People are getting too comfortable on the app, as one would say.

While there was no denying that you were in fact beautiful, they were still your sons, and to see such language about you was almost as traumatic as seeing you and Bruce fooling around in bed.

• 'Mrs Wayne is so hot??? HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN HER IN THOSE HEELS??? GYAT'

• 'I've seen her IRL when I was visiting her café and let me tell you; photos do NOT DO HER JUSTICE 🥵'

• 'If my future husband and I don't give Bruce and (Y/N) Wayne energy, I don't want it ☝🏼🤨'

• 'mrs wayne's thighs appreciation: a thread that will having you SCREAMING [includes 10+ photos]'

That last one in particular had an intimidating number of likes, mind you. As if their own set of fans weren't a lot to deal with already.

But hoho, if we're talking about Bruce Wayne's opinion on the matter?

Picture this.

It's like watching an edit of your favourites; going from a random video of you adorably scrunching up your nose to BAM—a slow-mo of you looking like a literal model. How or where anyone's ever gotten that footage from was uncertain, but if you asked Bruce if he's ever seen that video before?

Chances are, he'd say yes.

Repeatedly, even.

Hell, he might've saved it somewhere, amongst other 'tresures', for educational purposes.

He acknowledges the fact that you may be a teenage boy's fantasy, the dream trophy wife of many men, regardless if they were in their lonesome or in a tasteless marriage, but in the end of the day, you were his, just as he was yours.

And while he has the means to save your most intimate moments via his greatest machines, he actually prefers the good ol' polaroid. Saving at least a couple of boudoir photos in his pocket, wallet, the Batmobile, locked away in one of the Batcomputer's rack and much more. Whether they're photos of you lying on your stomach cross-legged in your lingerie, or even a picture of the two of you, glistening in sweat and naked in front of the mirror, he never ran short of his precious 'supplies', and he has more where that came from.

Knowing he was the only one able to not only see you, but make you writhe and scream and cum in his bed—in your bed, around his cock? He could die a happy man, truly. And he'll do just about anything you ask him to, no question?

Want his fingers inside you while he smothers his face in between your breasts? Certainly.

Want him to lie back so you can straddle his face and make you cum with that talented tongue of his? You don't have to tell him twice.

Want him to take your dress and lingerie off so slowly, even though his cock is aching to be touched by those sweet hands of yours? Say no more.

That man is always hungry for you, borderline desperate even, but what's new.

But, if it ever goes down to you, or when the public gets too comfortable voicing out, especially in front of you, and it clearly rubs you the wrong way, best believe he'll do something about.

He doesn't need the comments of others to know how sexy of a woman his wife really is, after all.

I wanted to write smut for this, considering it is a milf!batmom after all, but we all know how long it takes for me to do that HAHA I hope y'all still liked this one tho! Please don't forget to leave some sugar! ❤

#— reve's reverie 🌹#— reve's asks 🌹#a mother's touch series #batmom #batmom reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x batmom #batman x batmom #batman x you #batman x reader #batman

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mmmkaybye · 2 months

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Why Zutara Shippers are Wrong (JK, You can ship who you want lol)

(Although, I don't care if you do actually ship Zutara, that's your prerogative, I'm just waiting for better arguments for the relationship and for people to stop negatively viewing Kataang)

First of all, I'm premising this with the fact that I don't think that ATLA should have ended with Katara and Aang kissing. I think it would have been fine to just end with a slightly more intimate-than-friends hug/cuddle. I would have personally preferred that two children who survived being literal child soldiers get the chance to be kids before they delve into a more mature relationship with one another, but they didn't exactly have adults of the modern culture there to guide them a different way, now did they?

BUT! I am a firm believer that Zuko and Katara would never have worked out romantically and that Katara and Aang's relationship 1. makes more sense and 2. is actually healthier in the scope of trauma and trauma responses.

First of all, I don't understand how the creators of ATLA managed to craft literally the MOST traumatic childhood backstory ever with incredible detail and nuance and everyone just fricking glosses over it like WTF??? Not to mention, the creators did an amazing job diversifying trauma responses to similar trauma experiences.

Let's discuss Katara's childhood trauma, which was not healed magically after a little side quest with Zuko. Katara carries immense survivor's guilt over her mother's murder. Katara understands very well how and why her mother was brutally murdered in their family home. She has been deeply aware of this since the day of her mother's murder - and she fully blames herself. Katara understands that a fire nation soldier killed her mother, but he killed her because of Katara - she said so herself. Then, Katara, who was the last person to interact with her mother, discovers her mother's body, and it is insinuated that Katara might have even witnessed her mother's brutal execution-style murder. This forever alters Katara down to her core personality traits. Katara is 'bossy' because of her trauma. I work with kids from pre-k through graduating american high school. It's pretty normal for girls to do what I call 'mothering' to their peers and to kids younger than them. It often is described as being 'bossy' and some girls are in fact bossy, but for the most part, they are roleplaying a caretaker mentality as they are most familiar with. In Katara's deep guilt of being the reason her mother was murdered, her trauma response was burden herself with the role of mother. This is further antagonized when her father leaves with the rest of the adult men to fight against the Fire Nation. He might've well as died too due to lack of communication for many years. Sokka does not allow Katara to mother him for very long, so she doesn't get to have a chance to work through her personal trauma response to her grief because she has no one to safely and consistently direct these mothering tendencies towards. The other children in the village are not orphans, their mothers are most likely very alive and very involved with them, so they would be temporary fillers at best. Sokka has stepped into the role of village man and definitely would reject Katara's mothering, which often led to tension between the siblings. Toph had the very reaction to Katara's mothering tendencies as I expect a young Sokka had to them. He lost his mother, too, he didn't want a replacement, nor did he want to lose his sister to the role of mother.

Zuko, in the same fashion as Sokka, had a mother who he loved, and lost, and was not looking to replace. Zuko's mother was also a topic that is deeply rooted in a lot of Zuko's personal trauma as well. Zuko did not get to spend much time with Katara for her mothering tendencies to be extended over him, but he definitely would have aggressively rejected them as Katara's trauma response would have negatively triggered his own. Their trauma would have deeply and negatively impacted any romantic relationship they could have developed because of how they would react to each other. Their relationship would have crashed and burned very quickly.

On top of that. Katara would have never left the South Pole indefinitely - that is her home, and she consistently returned to it throughout her life. That is an effect of her cultural upbringing. Zuko couldn't leave the Fire Nation, and as we saw in the graphic novels that followed, Zuko's personal welfare suffered greatly because his whole world was upended and now he was responsible for the one nation that didn't get peace at the end of the war. It's incredibly naive and slightly delusional for people to desperately push romantic wishes upon a sixteen-year-old boy who was burdened with the responsibility of healing an entire nation, one that fought him every step of the way in many aspects. He did not have the emotional energy to expend upon a frivolous relationship. That's why Mai and he broke up, not because they didn't love each other, but because Zuko simply could not have personal relationships until his reign and nation had stabilized - that alone would take upwards of 10 years. Plus, Zuko may have helped others work through parts of their trauma, but he had to address his trauma too, which we saw the beginnings of during the graphic novels. Simply put, by the end of ATLA and all of the graphic novels, Zuko was in no place emotionally, mentally, and even physically and politically to seek out a relationship that was meaningful and healthy. And I know that Zuko would have changed the tradition of political marriage, at the very least he deserves to have married for love at the end of everything he suffered through. Zuko is a great opportunity to normalize waiting until you're in your mid-twenties -thirties before seeking out romantic relationships. Logistically speaking, I don't think there would have been much opportunity for romantic feelings to develop between the two of them. I especially don't think Katara would have easily been able to live in the Fire Nation because the Fire Nation was directly responsible for her trauma, and that is also why I don't think she would have every pursued a relationship with a Fire Nation man, Zuko or not.

Now onto Aang. Everyone always jumps onto this idea that Katara and Aang had a very mother-son relationship - which is wrong. Aang comes from a culture that literally does not have mother and fatherhood. There are NO mothers and fathers in the Air Nomad Nation. Sure, kids had birth parents, but parenthood was not part of their culture, nor did Aang ever seek out that kind of relationship. Aang may have been kid-like, but he was the most adultified kid in the group. He was incredibly independent and confident in his ability to travel internationally by himself at 12. Katara had never thought to leave the South Pole to seek out a waterbending master in the North Pole because she didn't have that confidence or training. The Air Nomads thrived on a mentorship-based village raising of children. So, Aang never thought of Katara as his mother. He literally couldn't, because he had no scope of reference for such a relationship, same with fatherhood. He never had a parental relationship with Monk Gyasto. It was more like a fun uncle mentorship. I think that's why everyone thinks Aang was a bad father, but he was an outlier in the Air Nomad nation because there was no Air Nomad nation when he had children. The village that raised the children in his culture was gone. He was actually a fairly decent father and the two older children probably felt bitter because Tenzin was the only other air bender in existence so it obviously Aang is going to spend a lot of one on one time with Tenzin in the scope of mentoring Tenzin in the way of Air Nomad culture. Aang was not an absentee father like how many people assumed from the very one-sided and brief explanation given by the two older, jaded siblings. Was he perfect? No, he literally had no clue how to be a father. Did he and Tenzin leave to get milk and never come back? Also no. That being said, Aang was the only individual who was comfortable with Katara mothering him, he never felt threatened or overburdened by her trauma response, which allowed for Katara to genuinely work through her grief and mature out of the extreme bossy mothering we first saw in book one. If you pay attention, yes Katara does retain that 'bossy' kind of personality, but that was permanent fixture due to her childhood trauma and a little bit of cultural influence as well. I think, if Katara had never been traumatized, she would have always leaned towards a very soothing and nuturing type of personality, which we began to see in the middle of book three. Her bossiness/mothering trauma response gradually lessened the longer she 'mothered' Aang. Once again, neither of the two saw each other as Mother-son. They were simple too close in age and Aang also had the added sense of duty-boundness due to being the Avatar. Katara was always going to be a caretaker archetype personality, trauma or no, and that simply wasn't the type of person that Zuko would lean towards for a romantic relationship due to his own personal upbringing and culture. Aang is a much more gentle and playfully empathetic personality that works with Katara's firm care and sassy disposition.

In the graphic novels, I personally saw a great deal of healing and maturation in Katara in relation to her trauma. She was less mothering towards Aang, too, and I think that had a lot to do with the fact that Aang matured a lot as well and the change in their once platonic relationship to a more romantic-leaning one. Was their relationship perfect? No, they are kids who survived a horrific war and many many trauma-inducing situations. However, once Katara fully leaned away from the mothering habit, we get to see that Aang allows Katara to relax and be more playful. She genuinely was just happy with Aang. He pushed her to be a little more child-like and to have child-like fun even as they grew up into adulthood. Katara helped Aang mature and face a lot of adult burdens that were placed child.

In the end, Katara and Aang always brought out the best in each other. Katara and Zuko didn't have enough time together in ATLA to develop an individual relationship outside of the group. There simply isn't enough time outside of their little side-quest in which Katara and Zuko interact solo- which was definitely NOT Katara's best, and in fact was Katara lashing out aggressively towards people who loved and cared for her and she them. Zuko was also not his 'best' in that time either as he was also being triggered emotionally. In fact, during ATLA, there's way too much negative tension between the two of them that leads to really intense disagreements and emotional outbursts more often than not until Katara begrudgingly accepts Zuko into the group, they don't even positively interact until Ember Island which is what, two weeks? She's not exactly nice when she pretty much demands him to help her hunt down the man that murdered her mother. Zuko is all gung-ho about vengeance too. Of course, they both have a lesson learning moment, but that episode cemented in my brain that Aang is the better partner for Katara than Zuko. Aang, once again the most mature in the Gaang, fight me on this, has a deep, empathetic understanding of the world, he doesn't do a great job trying to explain to Katara, but I think that's because no one in the Gaang understands how Appa is not just an air bison, and Aang never views Appa as an air bison like how everyone else in ATLA do. To everyone else, Appa's an animal, but to Aang and Aang's culture that is deeply offensive, Appa is an individual with emotions and value outside of what he can offer the group in terms of transportation and that's never really explicitly clarified to the audience either (because despite being a kid's cartoon, the creators knew their audience well and did not treat the audience like we are stupid and can in fact infer and read between the lines). If Katara had killed that pathetic worm of a man, it would have absolutely destroyed her as a person. She would not have been able to heal from her trauma and would probably suffer even more trauma and guilt. This side-quest was a plot point to lead up to the big debate of killing Ozai, and not many, in fact I don't know if anyone has talked about that fact. I have no doubt that Zuko has probably killed people, at the very least, he's deeply desensitized to people dying as I think he probably at some point did experience or witness some form of warfare battle before he began chasing Aang down.

Once again, I don't really care if you do ship Katara and Zuko. In fact, I think that's a-okay. But, with the Netflix live action adaptation's take on the Secret Tunnel scene, I've seen a lot of people speculating and even hoping for it to become canon and there have even been some opinions of Kataang that have resurfaced that really rub me the wrong way because it feels like many individuals are just looking at the surface level of ATLA. There's so much nuance to each individual character in terms of culture, societal norms, age and gender, and most importantly, trauma and trauma responses. The creators did an amazing job world building and story telling that a lot of what I put up in my opinion in preference for Kataang over Zutara is information that I inferred from the show and graphic novels due to my personal experience and education in familial relationships and childhood trauma. My thoughts are not the end all be all to this debate, nor do I think they should be, I've seen some really solid opinions in favor of Zutara that I can understand and somewhat agree with. I think a lot of those details and moments that people look to as indicators of romance between Katara and Zuko were remnants of the creators' previous intention, but I think that the change to Aang and Katara as end game was logistically and realistically more accurate. I never thought that Katara and Zuko were meant to be, and I always struggled to put to words as to why until I had pursued my psych studies in college that focused on child development, childhood trauma, and marriage and family counselling. I think that the creators instinctually were seeing the red flags that would have occurred naturally within Zutara and changed course accordingly. There were just a lot of details and nuances that I noticed personally that I wished more people would discuss.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my TedTalk, I'd love to hear some of your opinions about this.

#ATLA #avatar the last airbender #atla netflix #katara #zuko #aang #trauma #childhood trauma #kataang #zutara #katara x zuko #katara x aang #long post #debate

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eoieopda · 1 year

Note

Yoongi + “runaway bride” I’mma leave this one up to your interpretation bc I know I’ll love it either way and also wanna see what you come up with 👀

oooooooh!!! v excited by this prompt, lol. this is, um, going to hurt kind of a lot at the beginning, but stick with me!!!! also, i accidentally made this >3.3k words….. which i will proofread when i am no longer exhausted 🤪

the one with yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas

ft. POV shift, pining & correlating angst, reader who’s🎵 a runner she’s a track star 🎵, a #nonspon vans product placement, a very unfortunate namjoon (sorry, buddy,) childhood idiots in love

Yoongi sat in a seat chosen specifically for him not because he wanted to, but because he knew how much time you’d sacrificed in writing every place card by hand.

To be clear, he’d never wanted to attend this rehearsal dinner in the first place. Unfortunately, he knew the stakes. That wasn’t something he’d dare to say out loud — especially not to you. Not in that restaurant while you fluttered between tables and shined your warm light on every single guest, one by one. Not ever, because you’d slipped through Yoongi’s fingers the second Namjoon slid that ring on yours.

If, in twelve hours’ time, Yoongi could force his deflated body out of bed, he’d have to watch quietly while you got away for good.

There was nothing he could do about it, either, so he swallowed that grief with a mouthful of bibim nengmyun. He knew it wasn’t the food that tasted so bitter on his tongue; however, on the off-chance that it was, he followed suit with another ill-advised swig of makgeolli.

During the two subsequent hours he sat and stewed at that table, Yoongi had lost count of just how many glasses he’d had. His eyes never lingered on the bottle, sticking instead to you and the smile that didn’t seem to spread beyond the curve of your lips. Every now and then, you’d glance his way — and every time you did, there was a microscopic twinge at the corner of your mouth.

It felt like a signal, something cryptic, but he wasn’t in the proper headspace to begin making assumptions. For the first time ever, you’d hit Yoongi with a look he didn’t know what to do with, and that fact drove him insane. This was what he was afraid of, after all — that the invisible string between you would be re-routed to someone else, and the telepathic link you’d always shared would disappear with it.

Your friendship had started early because your respective mothers had grown up together, and found each other once again as adults with two kids each. Back then, both of your front teeth were missing and — if Yoongi made you laugh too hard at routine, weekend gatherings — banana milk would occasionally fly out through the gap. He was nine-years-old and had no concept of it, but now he knows that he loved you then.

He loved you when you were ten, and you kneed a classmate in the dick for bullying Yoongi on the basketball court. You were two years younger and half his size, but you were a force to be reckoned with.

He loved you when you were fourteen, and a wave of brand new hormones made you a little bit of a fucking nightmare to be around.

At seventeen, twenty-one, still.

Now.

There, while everyone around him clinked their chopsticks against their glasses and Namjoon accepted the crowd’s wordless demand that he kiss you.

Yoongi had done well enough with your previous relationships. None of them made him feel like this, though, and he’d spent two years unable to put his finger on why. Sandwiched at that carefully chosen table between his mother and older brother, it finally clicked: None of them ever threatened to last.

Yoongi had never been a particularly hopeful person, but buried deep in the back of his brain, there had always been a crumb of it. Part of him, however stupid, thought you’d end up together at a dinner like this. All of this was the last nail in the coffin, the alarm clock screaming that it was time to wake up.

Suddenly more nauseous than he’d ever been before, Yoongi scooted his chair back so abruptly that it scraped along the floorboards. Just as quickly, he got to his feet and made a beeline for the exit. Of all the heads that turned to watch him leave, yours was the only one he noticed in his peripheral vision. He could feel your eyes on his back — pictured how confused you must look — and it only made his stomach acid churn faster.

When he finally made it out to the patio behind the restaurant, Yoongi’s suspicions were confirmed: closed for the season. Fitting. He wasn’t in the mood to heed the signs, so he stepped carefully — one leg at a time — over the hip-high metal gate and gulped down sharp, late autumn air. As he did, he begged himself to get his shit together for you, if not for him.

He spent several minutes out there, maybe even hours, sitting on a bare, metal chair and glowering out at the trees at the edge of the property. He hated himself, he realized, for how easily he wasted time. Let it slip by unnoticed while he stood still.

The clock seemed to mock him, ticking faster from behind him as if time was going to outrun him again.

At least, that was his first guess.

Yoongi quickly learned that the clicks weren’t signaling the passing seconds; they were broadcasting the urgent beat of stilettos on brick. So, having figured that his mother had appeared outside to gun him down, Yoongi glanced over his shoulder and braced himself for the be-all, end-all of scoldings.

What he got instead was you and the undeserved concern that caused your eyebrows to furrow.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly once you reached the gate. With your manicured hands on the cold metal, you shivered, but you didn’t seem to notice. “Did you eat too much of the gochujang? I definitely did, and now I’ll be up all night with heartburn.”

Yoongi felt as though he’d been punched in the chest. The memory caught him in a riptide, beat him bloody against the rocks because he could’ve sworn he was sixteen again, stacking old encyclopedias under the headboard of your bed. He’d read somewhere online that, while sitting upright in a chair can exacerbate reflux, sleeping at an angle could help.

He was dizzy when he blinked back at you and saw your lips moving. He had to focus hard to figure out what you were saying.

“You remember that?”

Yoongi struggled to even out his breathing; he had no hope at all of finding the plot he’d lost. “Huh?”

You grinned and it made up for all the stars that had been hidden by grey clouds overhead. “The encyclopedias,” you chuckled, “They worked, you know.”

Yoongi didn’t mean to say it. He knew it before, during, and after it slipped out of his mouth that it was the worst goddamn thing he’d ever done, but he couldn’t stop himself — couldn’t shove the bullet he’d shot back into the gun. With the way it exploded through his chest — I love you — he was surprised that his body was still intact. No viscera sprayed out from the exit wound, no stains appeared on your chic, white cocktail dress.

You opened your mouth but closed it soon after, so clearly stunned by his unsolicited admission that you couldn’t find the words. Yoongi had no expectations whatsoever when it came down to your reaction because he hadn’t meant to provoke one in the first place. Even still, the wounded look on your face was worse than anything he might’ve imagined.

The two of you stood in tense silence for so long that Yoongi’s soul had nearly ejected itself fully from his body.

“That’s not fair,” eventually came your shaky reply. You clenched your fist tight around the top of the gate to anchor yourself and stammered, “Yoongi, that is not — Why would you —”

As soon as he aimed to take a step in your direction, your shock gave way to a scowl that could’ve boiled him alive.

“Why would you dump that at my feet? Tonight, of all fucking nights, Yoongi — seriously?” You snapped, though it sounded like a sob. “What am I supposed to do with this now?”

Now?

He didn’t know how to respond. He was paralyzed, inside and out, and he deserved it. Who the fuck was he, forcing the burden of his feelings onto you?

Selfish. Stupid. Out of time, as usual.

The makeup you always took so much time on started to run alongside your tears. Yoongi had seen you cry before, though he’d always been the reason you stopped, rather than started. He hated every single one of those muddied, black tears because he knew you. He knew you would have worn waterproof mascara if you’d had any reason to anticipate crying on your special night.

“I’m getting married in the morning!”

Your reminder was a dagger flying out of your mouth, sticking him right between the ribs. It stung as images flooded his mind — of you and Namjoon, your guests, and your out-of-season, imported fucking hydrangeas. It hurt even worse to see how badly you shook as you glared at him.

“Yoongi — fuck!”

Before you walked away, your eyes locked on his for a fraction of a second. In that moment, Yoongi promised himself that it was the last time you’d ever have to see his face.

When you were little, you pictured your wedding day like a moment ripped straight out of Cinderella. In your head, you’d wake up to birds singing at your window and mice scurrying around your feet, eager to dress you in a gown of epic and magical proportions. It’d be perfect. For years, you’d been sure of it.

In reality, there was no waking up because there hadn’t been a single second of sleep to begin with. No beauty rest, no sweet dreams of marital bliss — just you, feeling as if you’d swallowed a car battery. It sat heavy in the pit of your stomach, let acid burn all the way up to your esophagus. And it’d been all too easy to toss and turn in your hotel bed, which laid perfectly level on top of a plush, floral rug.

You crawled out of bed without the assistance of altruistic rodents and shuffled your dead weight over to the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. For once, your imagination had been accurate. Your puffy eyes were red in the aftermath of all your tears. They ached above circles so deep and dark that they would’ve alarmed you if you hadn’t expected them.

Namjoon had seen you at what you both believed to be your worst. Neither of you could’ve ever predicted that the Corpse Bride would be the one staggering down the aisle towards him. He’d love you anyway, you knew it, no matter how you looked. But if he knew what you spent all night toiling over…

You shook your head and abruptly turned away from the mirror. There were several of your dearest friends bustling around the room next to yours, all of whom were waiting on you. Swallowing hard, you headed for the adjoining door and promised yourself that the only person you’d let down today would be you.

You lost all track of time when a blur of hands went to work on you. If you’d closed your eyes while you dissociated, you could’ve pretended that your assistants were those woodland creatures you used to dream about. But you couldn’t close your eyes, couldn’t sleep through this part, couldn’t let your mind wander all the way back to that patio.

It’d been terrifying, staring your own heart in the face like that. More than anything, it was confusing because it didn’t look like you expected it would — not like an organ at all, but a person. You’d gotten so good at ignoring it that you couldn’t reasonably expect yourself to recognize it. It knew you, though, and loved you. Apparently, it always had.

As you sat in that hotel room, far away from the patio, you pictured every other moment you wished Yoongi had said what he did. The thousand times you’d thought for sure he felt the same, and all the ways you distracted yourself when you resigned to believing he didn’t. Every person you dated until you finally managed to move on —

“— please, love?”

You blinked rapidly to force your eyes to focus. In front of you, your mother stood with a knowing smile on her face and a sokchima in her hands. You didn’t need to ask her to repeat herself; you took the hint and rose slowly to your feet.

“I was nervous on my wedding day,” she hummed as she pulled the undergarment gently over your head. “Hungover, too, but your grandmother does not need to know that. Frankly, I’m surprised she couldn’t tell with how bloated I was when she helped me get ready…”

The bright scarlet chima followed without so much as a word from you. Your heart slammed helplessly against your rib cage when your mother proceeded to tug the sleeves of your jeogori up your arms. This moment should be special, you thought bitterly. All you wanted to do was cry; to apologize to your mother for your total inability to care while your wedding happened around you, not for you.

Soon enough, you were dressed. Your friends and older sister gushed about how beautiful you looked — the perfect bride — like you weren’t caught in the web of an anxiety attack. Like it wasn’t all wrong, and you weren’t dangling on the precipice of your life’s greatest mistake. Like you hadn’t spent so much of your hard-earned money on invitations and greenhouse-grown, special-ordered fucking hydrangeas.

Like you could catch a fucking breath under all the layers of your hanbok.

Sensing that a moment alone was necessary, your mother kissed your cheek and ushered the others out the door ahead of her. Before seeing herself out, too, she stalled in the threshold, turned back around to look at you, and exhaled through a pause.

“I left your shoes by the dresser,” she chirped.

The gentleness of her tone was reassuring, but there was a faint gleam in her eyes that caught your attention. Before you could ask after it, she nodded firmly once and let the door click shut behind her.

Alone again, your instinct was to do the same thing you’d spent ten consecutive hours doing — burying yourself under pillows and crying until you ran out of tears. But you had run out, which was precisely was the problem. You had no options left, nothing left to do but lean in.

At least, that was your first guess.

Your list of choices expanded by one when you saw the well-worn pair of slip-on Vans your mother had set out for you.

Yoongi sat on the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands.

Only two meters away, a garment bag hung from the hook on the back of his bedroom door. That bag — and the crisp, black suit it concealed — lingered there for weeks in the shadows, untouched since the day he bought it. Even though it hadn’t left its hanger, he felt it smothering him throughout the night. It choked him while one thought ran circles in his sleep-deprived brain:

The reason he bought it was the same reason he’d never be able to wear it.

Sick of the way he’d trapped himself with his thoughts, Yoongi pushed himself to his feet and crossed over to the door. With the way he flung it open, knob slamming against the wall, he’d likely never recover his security deposit. It felt good, though, taking his grief out on that godforsaken suit.

On his way to his front door, Yoongi stopped short. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a cabinet he hadn’t opened in weeks. As he stared at it, the devil and angel on his shoulders warred over the action he wanted so desperately to take.

Sure, he’d recently — finally — quit at your insistence, but what did that matter now?

He gritted his teeth and shook his conscience off his shoulders with a shrug. Within seconds, Yoongi was on the other side of his kitchen, grabbing an unopened pack of cigarettes and the lighter that lay in wait next to it. He closed his hand tight around it so he couldn’t see the Hello Kitty stickers you’d placed all over the plastic; your attempt to dissuade him from using it in public.

Joke’s on you, he thought as he placed a cigarette between his lips, your plan backfired. Leaving your mark on it the way you had was the only thing that’d kept him from throwing it away — and the only reason he still had a lighter to use at all.

Yoongi opened his front door with one hand as he tried to ignite the lighter with the other. No matter how many time he flicked the pad of his thumb over those little metal ridges, nothing sparked. Defeated yet again, he slumped down onto the porch swing, closed his eyes, and willed himself not to break down over something so stupid.

He had no way of knowing how much time passed as he sat like that. He had no way to tell who those urgent footfalls belonged to, either. That is, not until panted breaths hit his ears and prompted him to open his eyes.

Admittedly, Yoongi had pictured you in your bridal hanbok more than once throughout the years. Half the time, it hadn’t even been purposeful. From first to third grade, you’d rambled to him about your dream wedding on your daily walks home from school. You spoke about it so often, in fact, that even he started thinking about what embroidery a mouse might add to the hem of your chima.

As the pair of you got older, you brought it up less, so Yoongi didn’t think about it often. The image crept up on him, though, once in a while. Every time you brought him as a plus one to your friends’ weddings because you didn’t want to dance alone; and he nearly told you that he’d always want to be your partner.

Or that time you cried through your worst ever heartbreak on his couch, lamented that you’d die an old maid, and never get to wear one.

Even as recently as last night, when he drank half a fifth of whiskey and grieved over the fact that he’d never get to see you wear one.

He couldn’t make heads or tails of the real thing, not with the way you’d doubled over to catch your breath; and bunched the ends up in your fists, presumably to prevent yourself from tripping as you — ran here?

“What did I tell you about the cigarettes?” You puffed, still with your hands on your knees and your face angled at the sidewalk.

Somehow, despite running five kilometers to Yoongi’s doorstep, you hadn’t displaced a single hair from your artfully crafted up-do. Your makeup hadn’t budged, either, which meant that the only sign of your expended effort was the tint of pink on your cheeks and the tip of your nose.

You’d outrun his train of thought in your scuffed, old Vans. Yoongi had to buffer for a moment in order to catch up, but the involuntary smile fighting its way over his mouth didn’t bother to wait. Eventually, he recited your long-suffering appeal, smirking all the while, “They’ll fuck me up, and I’ll have to be wheeled out onto the basketball court in an iron lung.”

“Exactly.”

With one last, deep breath, you returned to your upright position. The second you did, Yoongi was the one choking up.

Rapid blinking did nothing to stop the tears pricking at the inner corners of his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat to the best of his ability, but he couldn’t shake the inexplicable flutter in his chest at the sight of you. You’d always been perfect, but this was —

“Oh, my god,” he croaked, thoroughly melted from the inside out.

Yoongi stood before his brain could signal his legs to do so; or remind his hands not to drop the phone, lighter, and cigarettes he’d been holding. His eyes, on the other hand, knew exactly what to do. He drank in your appearance like he’d spent the last twenty-two years wandering, dehydrated in the desert — and in a way, he had.

You blinked back at him with swimming eyes as if you’d found sanctuary, too. Suddenly aware of what you were gripping, you opened your fists and let the fabric flutter down to the ground. While smoothing out wrinkles that didn’t exist, you asked softly, “Not bad for a bunch of mice, right?”

“Look just like a dream,” he replied just as gently.

Yoongi’s hands, which were thankfully now free, reached out and grabbed yours. You followed his lead as he spun you, twirled under his raised arm until you ended up with your face mere centimeters from his.

“Yoongi,” you breathed. Your eyes danced from his, to his lips, and back again. “If you wait another twenty-two years to tell me how you feel, please pick a time and place that is mutually convenient. I swear to God, I’ll —”

It came out much more easily the second time than the first; and when it did, it felt more like a beginning than a bomb:

“I love you.”

#re: the one with yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas #jade’s requests #jade’s drabbles #2k drabblepalooza #myg #min yoongi #yoongi #bts #bts drabble #yoongi drabble #bts imagine #bts scenarios #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #trashlibrary

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shuttershocky · 21 days

Text

I will preface this by saying I don't believe in ghosts, but...

1) One time in highschool when there was a class event involving sleeping overnight in the gym, I spent one evening talking to a friend while walking around the school field in the dark. However, after some time, they stopped replying, and I realized I had wandered off alone.

I returned to the gym, saw them sleeping there, and asked why they ditched me. They claimed they were inside the gym the whole time.

I had no idea who I was talking to in the dark.

2) I actually posted this story on Tumblr before.

In 2016 we reached our lunchbreak ("lunchbreak" but at like 3PM lol) at work, but the elevators going down were taking way too long to arrive.

Getting impatient, I told my friends/coworkers I was taking the stairs down. A few floors down, I heard their voices above me and realized they followed after me, but they all quieted down after a few minutes of walking.

When I reached the bottom, my coworkers were all there ahead of me, asking me where I had been. They told me they walked down the entire staircase but never saw me. I called bullshit and said they all probably took an elevator down, but they all insisted they didn't.

I checked my phone's clock, and it was 10 whole minutes later than I should have arrived at the bottom of the staircase. I have no idea where that time went.

3) You know what was one of the wildest parts of Catholic school? Bravery tests.

My elementary school would have outings like normal schools do, but one part of the 3 day outings would always involve the teachers making some bravery test they'd challenge the kids to do. They wouldn't be necessary for your grade or anything, they just thought it would be fun.

The problem is, these tests mattered more to the kids than their actual grades. Being graded a dumbass in Math? That was nothing. Being graded a baby? That was the end of you.

Looking back, some of these were really dumb, like one of the security guards was made to put on a gorilla suit and wander the school at night while you were tasked with retrieving stuff the teachers left inside. They wouldn't make the guard chase you or anything, they just wanted you to experience shuffling around in the dark and encountering a gorilla.

Anyway, one year, the bravery test was going through a dimly lit garden full of statues on stands / pedestals, memorizing a written piece a teacher left at the end, and then coming back and reciting it. Many kids were freaked out by all the statues of angels and saints in the dark, especially when stories of statues of Mary or Jesus walking around on their own or crying blood were common ghost stories for kids.

So there I was, in the dark, a little freaked out but not visibly freaking out or I would be bullied even harder than I already was in Grade 5, when i noticed one statue waved. It wasn't a scary moment or anything, just a "hi" wave, which looked so obvious I realized some teacher meant to jumpscare you with that and that kind of broke the tension.

I still failed the bravery test because I never found that notebook in the dark, but yknow, at least I didn't cry or anything.

The next day though, I went back to that garden in the daytime to see which empty pedestal the teacher stood on to jumpscare the kids and found that none of them were empty.

Bonus Round: When Finding Nemo came out, McDonalds made Finding Nemo toys for their Happy Meals. Dory would do her whale call, and Nemo kind of just laughed like a kid. Unfortunately, my little sisters bringing the toys into the bathtubs broke the speakers inside, so one time late at night, Nemo began laughing on his own with no button press, and Dory began a garbled whale call after him. Every 5 or so minutes they would just do that. It creeped my mom out enough that she picked up the toys and tossed them out of the house at 3 AM. They were absolutely just broken toys, but she wasn't taking any chances.

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nickfowlerrr · 1 year

Note

Getting pwyc vibes from this gif https://www.tumblr.com/nickfowlerrr/716041933395558400?source=share

🥰

ahhhhhhh 😭 don’t give me any ideas, i have so many wips i need to tend to. 😩 but god the urge is so strong to write a little drabble inspired by this because it’s absolutely them 🥺🖤 bucky is on her any chance he has…. oh fuck, okay. who am i kidding. here we go.

his favorite pillow

pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: ooey gooey softness. not really anything. also i wrote this in 3rd person pov for some reason? so there’s that lol.

words: 752

notes: i legit just wrote this so not at all edited lol sorry for any mistakes. thank you in advance for reading, i hope you enjoy this! as always, feedback and reblogs are welcome and so appreciated. 🩵

She can just be lounging on the couch, reading a book or lazily watching a movie on television when Bucky walks by and sees her.

It’s not ten seconds before she feels his weight on her as he lays himself down without a word, his head burying itself in her chest as his arms rest on either side of her.

He takes a moment to enjoy her warmth and the soft skin of her cleavage against his face before he lets himself get really comfortable, shimmying down her body just a bit as he lets his head lay back down.

Her hands are already coming up to run through his hair, holding him gently as he relaxes even further into her. A soft moan tumbles from Bucky’s lips under her attention, his eyes already fallen closed.

His face is on her soft tummy as she cradles his head against her chest. When he feels her lean down, placing a delicate kiss on his hair, he swears his heart almost hurts from how full it is.

He never thought he would have this. Never thought anyone would care about him the way she does. He doesn’t deserve it. He knows that. But she’s still here. And she still loves him. He can feel it with every brush of her fingers through his hair. With every relaxed inhale she takes. With every beat of her precious heart that he’s vowed to never break again. And he knows she’ll deny it, argue semantics, but he’ll go to his grave saying he loves her even more.

Her soft laugh catches his attention as he turns his face up to meet her eye. She’s smiling down at him, her eyes twinkling. “You’re like a cat,” she laughs again, her voice quiet, almost a whisper. Bucky has a sleepy smirk on his face as he nuzzles into her again, his hand framing her soft waist, holding her lightly.

“Can’t help it. You’re too comfortable,” he insists.

“You can just grab a pillow,” she tells him, but they both know she enjoys this just as much as he does. When he’s this close, his weight on top of her like it is, she revels in the feeling. Not just warm or content, but safe. Cherished. Loved.

She never thought this was possible, not really. Sometimes, when she’s looking back on the beginning, she worries it’s all in her head. That she’s deluding herself into being this happy. But then moments like this happen. Again and again. And she knows, without a doubt, it’s real. The unadulterated happiness she feels when she’s with him now, it’s nothing but genuine. She couldn’t help it even if she wanted to.

She used to resent herself for it. But she can’t anymore. She won’t. She cares for him. She loves him. Maybe more than she should. But who’s to say. And why should it matter? She knows he loves her just as much. They’re a match made by the fates.

His fingers flex against her waist as he fondles her softly. That sly cheshire grin on his lips cause a brow to quirk on her face as she waits for him to respond.

“You are my pillow. My favorite pillow,” he smiles unabashedly as she rolls her eyes at him, a hint of a smile of her own threatening to play on her lips. He laughs and lets his head rest on her once more, her fingers returning to his hair as they lay together.

It’s quiet again, save the low hum of the television playing. It’s peaceful. Calm.

She smiles as she realizes their breathing has synced. A minute passes and she hears a soft snore coming from Bucky as he naps on her. Gently as she can, not wanting to wake him, she leans her head down once more, placing another soft kiss on him.

His hand ever so slightly squeezes her supple flesh in his sleep as she plays with his hair.

She soon feels herself growing more and more drowsy, too. His warmth and weight lulling her. It isn’t long before they’re both sleeping easily, being held delicately by one another.

His hold on her a symbol of his softness for her, a reminder of the true Bucky, whose warmth was reserved for her alone. A promise to always keep her with him - cherished, safe, and protected. Her hold on him much the same. An unspoken promise of commitment - her care and love for him, despite it all, ceaseless.

(this gif is not indicative of what “reader” looks like.)

#pwyc series #pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #asks #dumdidditydumdoo #guys i’m tearing up over here 🥺#i think i love this

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megamindsecretlair · 5 months

Note

Aht aht aht. The vampire Tyrone said that the things he was gonna do to the reader was gonna make the devil jealous. I need details please, if you feel me!!!

A/N: Don't be quoting my fics back at me LOL. I'm gon take this lightly, but let's remember that I am not a smut machine. LOL

A Seduction at Midnight Chapter 3

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. Use of n-word. Reader is tied up with cuffs, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), PIV (unprotected), cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. One mention of spanking. Possession kink, pet names. Mentions of stalking and manipulation. blood, over stimulation, Mean-ish reader.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. After inviting you to a exclusive party at his place, Tyrone promises a night of pure carnal delights.

Word Count: 4,172k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Okay, let's see what these crazy kids get up to! I guess, this is kind of OC? Is it OC if I invented a tiny backstory? I'm still getting the hang of fic writing. Since this taglist is getting so big, please give me a headcount of who still wants to be tagged for Vamp Tyrone or who only wants normal Tyrone. I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile

Mistakes were made. Your wrists were tied and suspended above you on a chain you did not see when you first walked in. You knelt on the bed in a growing puddle of your own arousal, knees spread wide. You felt how wet you were. It leaked out of you, trailing down your thighs.

You shook nearly in time with the grandfather clock. Each new chime was another hour passed while Tyrone played with you. Perhaps, you didn’t really know what you were signing up for.

Tears sprung from your eyes. You sniffled. It was too much sensation, too many nerves, too much pleasure. He had not stopped after your previous orgasms for the audience. No, he kept going. Pushing you past your limits.

“Still with me?” You turned to the sound of his voice but couldn’t see him. He had taken off your mask ages ago and replaced it with a blindfold. It was snug against your face, damp with your tears.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Tyrone trailed a feather against your skin and it was like he set you on fire. You hissed and jerked away from him, crying. The chain clinked loudly in your ear.

“Aw, don’t try to get away,” Tyrone said and chuckled. He leaned in and kissed your cheek. Even that shit was sensitive.

“P-please,” you whispered.

“Please what? Say it where I can hear you,” he said.

You leaned your head against your raised arms. They were starting to hurt, but the last time you asked him to lower the chain, he fingered you until you came two more times. You couldn’t possibly have another one to give.

The feather tickled your neck and you twisted, falling forward a bit. Tyrone caught you and righted you. But his grip was too much. You cried out and Tyrone shushed you.

“Shh, shh, where we at baby?” He asked.

“Y-yellow,” you said, cursing yourself. You should just end this. But you did not want this evening to end. For once, your brain shut off and Tyrone handled everything. The sounds he elicited from you were sinful. You didn’t know you could beg and scream and cry as often as you did tonight.

“Are you sure? You’re so messy,” he said slowly. His fingers grazed your pussy and you desperately clenched, needing to be filled. You moaned moving your hips forward, yearning for him to end your torment.

“Hmm, you’re so wet,” he purred in your ear. “I bet I would have to fight to stay inside, huh?” Tyrone licked your neck.

“No, no,” you said. If he’d just give you the dick, you would lock your legs around him and never let go. You licked your lips, still feeling a bit rubbed raw after the last time you sucked his dick.

Tyrone kissed down your neck, around your shoulders, towards your chest. He palmed your breasts, rubbing them slowly and running his thumbs across your nipples. Your whole body shivered.

You still felt his hands everywhere. Your body tingled from everything he had done to you tonight. Like phantom hands still massaged you, molded you, broke you in half like a pretzel.

His mouth replaced his thumb. He latched his mouth to your left nipple, swirling his tongue around it.

“S-shit,” you sniffled. You didn’t have enough air in your lungs to yell. He dipped his fingers into your pussy, pumping two long fingers in and out of you.

“Got another one for me?” He asked. His breath fanned across your wet nipple and you moaned.

“N-no,” you moaned. Hell, this couldn’t be real. You didn’t want to wake up if it wasn’t. He was ruining you for any other man. What human could compete with this level of stamina? Tyrone had sounded calm and collected all night. Except for when he was fucking your mouth. He never sounded more gorgeous than the few little “fucks” that kept escaping him.

He flicked his tongue lazily against your nipple. Once he got it into a tight nub, he moved on to the right nipple. He paid just as much attention to that one as he still pumped his fingers.

It was as if with every plunge, he was calling your orgasm to the surface. Dragging it from the depths of hell itself to make you cum. “Oh fuck, p-please,” you cried.

“C’mon and give it to me. I knew you had another one for me. With yo sexy ass. You’ve done so good for me tonight,” he whispered against your nipple. You cried out, nothing but the wisps of air you managed to keep escaping you.

Pleasure wrapped around you and held on for dear life. You shook and jerked. Feeling squeezed tight and not tight enough. Tiny earthquakes were set off inside of you, each with its own aftershock of pleasure. Tears trailed down your cheeks.

Tyrone lifted his head from your chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He took his fingers out of your pussy and spread your arousal around your lips. He shoved his fingers in, making you taste yourself again. He licked your tears away, from both cheeks, humming in pleasure.

“You’re gonna have to tell me when to stop. I can’t get enough of you,” he said. He kissed your cheek. He held his lips there in a sustained kiss and breathed you in. You knew he didn’t have to breathe, not really. He did it anyway, committing you to memory. The thought made your pussy throb.

“I n-need…” You tried, but you couldn’t voice your thoughts. It had been too long since he entered you. Since he gave you what you wanted. What you truly wanted. You were trying to hold out but he was being incredibly stubborn about it.

Couldn’t vamps read minds? Weren’t they supposed to get super special powers to roll your mind, make you do things, or work some type of magic? You slunk down, wrenching your shoulders back too far, but you were close to passing out.

“Tell me what you need,” Tyrone said. His voice was clear, deep, and intentionally seductive. He knew fuck well what he was doing. You supposed after centuries of sex, he should know what he was doing. But you were a mere mortal. He had to have some kind of mercy.

“Please, fuck me,” you begged.

Tyrone chuckled and cupped your face. He kissed you. His tongue rolled against yours and you moaned, sitting up straighter. Your thighs were starting to burn from this position. The metal clanked overhead. The grandfather clock tick, tick, ticked. You’d never be able to look at another clock the same way again. The mu’fucka ruined clocks for you too.

He slotted his lips against yours, languid as a fat cat on a summer’s day. He explored your mouth as if he were kissing you for the first time. His soft lips were their own sweet torture.

“Hm, I need to taste you first. You made such a mess, I need to clean it up,” he said. You cried as he moved into position on his back. He pulled you closer, making you crawl on your knees. The chain rattled as it moved on the track, allowing you to push forward and sit on his face. You tried to stay on your knees, but he grabbed you by the thighs and pulled until you were seated.

He reminded you that he didn’t need to breathe as his tongue darted out to lick your pussy. You reared up but he pulled you back down. Your ass pushed against the heels of your feet.

His grip turned bruising as he crushed you to his face and ate you out again, moaning at the taste of you.

“So good,” you think he said. He sounded muffled. You bit your lip as your hips started to move of their own accord. Grinding down on his face. Oh, oh, yeah that felt so good. You moved your hips faster.

Tyrone stuck his tongue out and let you fuck yourself on it. You moaned as you rode him, taking your pleasure from him as if he were nothing but a toy. Nothing but a vibrator you were pleasuring yourself with. Your fingers tangled with the chains as you gripped them and rode his face harder. Fresh arousal leaked out of you, surely drowning him.

“Right there, right there, rightthererightthererightthere,” you cried, your voice tinny.

You were caught between wanting to go faster and pushing him off altogether. You could not survive another orgasm. And yet, you were grinding on him anyway. Your pussy clenched and throbbed as your orgasm built, tightening your belly. At its peak, it erupted.

You cried out as it swept through you. A volcano of pleasure that kept going and going, taking you to another plane of existence.

You slumped against his face as he licked up everything you gushed out. You spasmed. The smell of sex was so thick in the air, you could probably cut it with a knife. “Such a good little girl,” he said against your thighs. He moved you easily as if you were as light as the feather he used earlier.

The praise made your spirit soar, even as your body was too tired. He got to his knees behind you. A moment later, the chains were starting to lower and you whimpered in relief. He kissed your neck and back and started to massage your shoulders. He whispered nasty things in your ear as his hands rubbed the dull, burning ache.

“Better?” He asked.

“Unhuh,” you sighed.

“Where we at baby?” He asked.

You thought about it. If he teased you one more time, that was it, you were throwing in the towel. Stubbornly, you rallied the last remaining strength you had. “Yellow,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Stubborn little thing, ain’t you?” He asked.

“I was promised a night I’ll remember,” you said.

He chuckled and licked the shell of your ear. “Not enough for you? Complaining about my performance?” He asked.

“If I need to find someone else, let me know,” you said.

The sharp smack to your ass was unexpected and you gasped from the sheer force. The sting built in intensity until your ass was on fire.

“You can joke about a lot of things. That shit ain’t one of ‘em. Understand?” He asked.

Your head bobbled.

“Use your words,” he said.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you squeaked.

Since your arms were now lowered, he pushed you forward. You leaned on your elbows and brought your ass up. You weren’t moving fast enough. Tyrone grabbed your hips and pulled you backwards.

He slammed inside of you. You were so wet that he slid in easily. You cried out as he fucked you with something to prove. Okay, you hit a fucking nerve.

Your wrists were still tied. You held them in front of you, to keep the chain from knocking into your face. He fucked into you with reckless abandon. His fingers dug into your hips, slamming you back on his dick.

You moaned and cried and whimpered as he finally gave you what you wanted. He filled you up. His thick dick was perfect, digging into your guts exactly in the way you needed.

“No one else gets to touch you,” he growled.

“Yes, Sir,” you said.

“No one,” he said. “No one.” It became a chant. Every thrust pushed you forward. Your ass slapped against his thighs. His balls tapped your clit.

Your nails scraped against the bedsheet as he rutted inside of you. He was animalistic. Grunting and groaning. In between chanting, he’d pepper in curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, squeeze that shit,” he moaned.

You pushed back against him, and he increased his thrusts. His moans turned you on. Hearing that deep voice moaning activated a different side of to you. You threw it back on him. He growled as he slammed back. Gasps and yips escaped you. You couldn’t take a full breath. He fucked the orgasm out of you, wringing a loud, keening yowl from you.

Your body jerked and twisted as your orgasm steamrolled you. Reality shifted and changed. You peeked into the fifth dimension, feeling at once above your body and in it. You pictured how you looked. Suppliant, on your knees, getting dicked down in the most primal way possible.

“Oh fuck, baby. So good,” you moaned.

As you floated back down, Tyrone roared and released a fat load inside of you. The hot spurts filled you up. He shuddered as he pushed forward to the hilt, moaning deep and low in his throat.

“So beautiful. So good,” he whispered. He leaned forward and kissed the base of your spine. You tensed, ready for his fangs to sink in. He rubbed one side against your ass and chuckled. “No more bites tonight, love,” he promised.

You pouted and whined. He placed another kiss there and slipped out of you when he softened. He untied the blindfold.

The sudden light seared your eyes and you blinked through new tears. You looked towards him, eyes blurry, and found him looking down at you with so much emotion. Such pride. Such admiration. You smiled lazily at him and yawned. You still shook from little tremors after that last orgasm.

He took the cuffs off of you, rubbing and massaging circulation back into your wrists. Warmth spread through your body as you stretched out, laying down fully on the bed. Sleep tugged heavily at you. You wanted to stay up and talk to him, but he kissed your forehead and told you to sleep. So sleep you did.

Tyrone

You were going to be the true death of him. You looked ruined. Your perfect body was curled on the bed, ass in the air and scrumptious enough to bite into. He almost did earlier, but it was your first time giving blood. He didn’t want to suck you dry.

Fuck, his dick twitched thinking of how good you tasted, in all aspects. Your blood was ambrosia. Straight from the heavens itself. It took every, single ounce of willpower to keep from killing you. And you poor thing. You had no clue.

He should feel horrible about it. You were so full of life. Interesting and unique. He loved listening to you talk and learning how your mind worked. He would hate it if you were snuffed from this life.

But you had no clue how fucking delicious your blood was. And then when he tasted that sweet honey between your thighs, it was enough to drive him insane with lust. Tyrone could not remember the last person who drove him so crazy. He’d had his share of lovers over the centuries. When his loneliness was so loud, he’d do anything to steal the warmth from his partner. He’d agree to anything, kill anybody, if it meant that someone would wrap their hands around him in love rather than fear.

He looked at you, staring at your rolls and curves. He could keep going. You made him want to keep going. He wanted to mesh your bodies together and never leave your embrace. He wanted to twist you any which way he could.

He needed a walk. Usually, he would kick out whoever he got done fucking. But you were different. He wanted to mold his body to yours and snuggle in close. But if he snuggled up with you right now, you wouldn’t ever be free to walk this earth again. This…possessiveness was starting to worry him. Slick Charles said as much as Tyrone spent nearly every night watching you in your house.

He left the room, towards the en suite bathroom and warmed up a washcloth for you. He cleaned you up, gentle, but you were deeply asleep. He heard the thump of your heart as you slept. You made little whimpering noises.

He was jealous of your dreams. For a while, you were lost to him. He wanted more of it. More of you. You were so cute and trusting, sleeping next to a monster. So, he threw on his briefs and left the room altogether. He needed to be away, where your scent wasn’t wreaking havoc on his senses.

Outside the room, the carnal sounds of fucking slammed into him. The smell of sex was potent. He walked down the hall where some people were fucking against the wall. He passed by people in various states of dress, masks on, dicks and pussies out. Some women were getting fucked, some men were getting pegged.

When he was younger, all of this still would’ve excited him. He still enjoyed watching sex, but his dick only stirred for you. He gritted his teeth as he passed through to one of the playrooms.

Four people were intertwined in a complicated dance on the large bed. Tyrone stopped for a moment, watching the foursome as everyone was getting off on someone else. Sex was fascinating to him. The way people contorted themselves into shapes just to get off. To reach that ultimate goal. Tyrone watched their faces. He watched how even though they selfishly sought their own pleasure, they were just as focused on their partner. On giving and taking.

Tyrone moved on, passing by the playrooms and ensuring that everyone minded the rules. At the end of the hall, a lone figure leaned against the wall. The figure was fully dressed in slacks and a shirt one size too big.

“Who are you?” Tyrone asked. He stopped walking forward. The figure was half in shadow. The figure turned his head, head dipping into one of the hall lights.

“Don’t you recognize your big brother?”

Tyrone sighed and rubbed his head. “The fuck are you doing here, Fontaine?”

Fontaine chuckled, his gold grills glinting in the light. Moans crescendoed all around but Tyrone tuned it out. Like turning down the sound on a stereo, the moans faded to the background.

Rage replaced his earlier calm at seeing Fontaine. Smug mu’fucka. Fontaine removed himself from the wall, stalking towards Tyrone. He put his hands in his pockets and looked Tyrone up and down.

“Shit, Tyrone. You finally fuck that stick out ya ass?” Fontaine chuckled. “Who is she? She still around?” Fontaine looked behind Tyrone as if the person would be coming up behind them. Tyrone clenched his fists but kept a mask of amused indifference.

“What are you doing here, ‘Taine?”

Fontaine’s smile slipped. He shrugged. “Can’t just be because I miss you?”

Tyrone reared back as if Fontaine had slapped him. It was uncanny, looking into the eyes of someone that fuckin’ looked like you. There was a disconnect between the mirror and this mirror-version of Tyrone. It was him but it wasn’t him.

“Fuck no. What do you want?” On the inside, Tyrone was worried. He still didn’t know what you were or why your blood smelled so divine. It was a big risk bringing you here tonight, knowing that your blood might draw the others. But nothing happened when that first drop touched air…still, he wasn’t going to gamble that Fontaine’s keen sense of smell would find you.

Tyrone barely held it together around you. Fontaine was a ripper, who enjoyed his food in all manners of ways. It would be nothing to snap your neck and drain you dry.

Fontaine laughed and nodded. “I got some business here,” he said.

“What business?” Tyrone asked.

“Mines, nigga,” Fontaine said. He laughed as he pushed past Tyrone, looking in and out of the playrooms. He stopped at one door and leaned on it, watching the couple as the man was getting spanked.

“Father banished you–”

“Father’s the one that called me back here,” Fontaine interrupted. He turned towards Tyrone and lifted an eyebrow. “Old man didn’t tell you?”

“Nigga don’t say shit but bark mu’fuckin’ orders.” Tyrone walked away from the playrooms. He went upstairs, heading towards his office. Here, the place felt slightly more like him. This wasn’t his main residence. He didn’t want to sleep in the same house that his people did depraved things.

Fontaine’s steps were quiet, but with his hearing, he knew Fontaine trailed behind him. The halls were painted light gray, soft wood underneath, and random sculptures and pieces of art along the end tables or on the walls. Paintings of himself were spread along the walls. He hated the idea. But Slick Charles told him that he needed to add some showmanship for the parties. Whatever.

He turned on the light to his office and walked inside. Fontaine slipped in behind him and closed the door. Tyrone flopped into his chair and rolled his neck. He just wanted to spend the night in between your legs. He knew the night was going too perfect.

His office was like his others, painted in his favorite color, gray, with complimentary furniture. He had a few personal items there like his watch or keys, or sunglasses. Fontaine flopped into the chair opposite the large desk. He sneered at the decorative plants and art.

“Corny ass mu’fucka,” Fontaine whispered.

“Why are you really here?”

Fontaine shrugged. “Pops gettin’ paranoid or some shit. Or he want something. I’ve been getting word that he’s been lookin’ into my business overseas. I’m just here to see why he broke the agreement,” Fontaine explained.

“Lookin’ into it how?” Tyrone asked.

Fontaine shrugged again. His gaze moved around the room. Tyrone watched him, looking at all the ways he changed in the hundred or so years since he last saw him.

Fontaine had a scruffy beard now, with kinked hair sticking up every which way. The grill was obviously new. The canines were elongated, perfectly hiding his real fangs. It was clever. He could move around more freely, not afraid to laugh or speak.

“Ion know yet. All I know is that he broke his side, so the terms is null. I’m taking myself off punishment, baby brother,” he said.

Tyrone chuckled. “That’s not the way that shit work,” he said.

“Does now. Look. I came here as a muthafuckin’ courtesy. No disrespect shit. I’m not going to make noise. I just want to see what Pops knows and then I’ll be gone,” Fontaine said.

Tyrone looked at him over the desk. There was so much history there. History of running around together, chasing girls in skirts, and fuckin’ them ‘till the morning came. Of all the arguments and yelling at each other. Fontaine moving to Europe was the best decision ever. They needed that continent in between them.

“How long?”

“Ion know,” Fontaine said.

“Not good enough,” Tyrone said.

“Make it good enough.”

Tyrone sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Dammit, ‘Taine. Don’t start that shit,” he said.

Fontaine suddenly sniffed and Tyrone whipped his head towards him. Fontaine’s head was tilted chasing the scent. Could he smell you on Tyrone?

“How long do you need?” Tyrone asked, trying to distract Fontaine. But Fontaine only took another deep breath.

“Damn, that almost smells like…Versailles,” he said.

The name triggered a distant memory, of remembering when Tyrone and Fontaine had walked the halls of the famous palace, had walked by a proper lady, and she had smelled so good, it made Tyrone and Fontaine whirl around.

Fontaine chuckled. “Must be all this pussy in the air. Anyway, I’m fo’ real. I just want to know how much he knows. I’ll be gone before you know it.”

Tyrone nodded. “Fine. Don’t start anything while you here. Get in, get out,” Tyrone said.

Fontaine smirked and shook his head. “Shit, baby brother. You really got something here,” Fontaine said.

“You don’t have to keep up the good older brother routine. I already said you could stay,” Tyrone said.

Fontaine laughed. “Man, whoever you fucked, go fuck ‘em again. Loosen up. All that frowning gon’ make you old,” Fontaine chuckled on his way out of the office.

Tyrone watched him go. He strained his hearing for Fontaine’s soft steps and followed the sound of his shoes out of the house. He hadn’t smelled you. Good. Tyrone left his office and headed back to you.

He couldn’t risk Fontaine knowing about you. He didn’t know what his brother would do around you. Especially if he was thinking of Versailles. Whatever that was supposed to mean. The centuries tended to blur after being alive so long. It was just fleeting from one activity to the next.

He’d have to look into it later. For now, he wanted to forget that Fontaine was here. He wanted to forget that there were others in the house. He wanted to wrap himself in your warmth and addicting scent and sleep the morning away.

You were still fast asleep. Tyrone lowered the lights and climbed into bed. He snuggled you from behind. You let out a soft sound. He wrapped his hand around your tummy and felt the approaching morning like a heavy blanket. He slipped off to sleep with your intoxicating scent tickling his nose.

&&&

Masterlist | Chapter 3

135 notes · View notes

multifandoms27-blog · 10 months

Note

if you’re still taking yugioh requests do you think i could get atem and kaiba comforting an s/o who’s afraid of storms (especially thunder and lightning)? thank you!! 🩷

OMGOMGOMG YES HI I just saw this in my inbox!!! I am absolutely still taking Yugioh quests!!!

Content: Atem x gn!Reader; Seto Kaiba x gn!Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: You didn't specify if Atem was in modern or ancient times, so I just went with ancient times......I'm a history/mythology nerd so I took the chance lol sorry. I also slipped in a small YGOTAS reference at the end of Atem's part lol

• ───────────────── •

❥ Pharaoh Atem

Normally, it was custom for the Pharaoh and his spouse to sleep in separate bedrooms. This allowed them both down time after being in the public eye all day. As much as you loved your husband, you needed this time away, even if it was to just rest.

After your servants helped you undress and get ready for bed, you were left alone with your thoughts. Although, you were so exhausted you just wanted to sleep. You'd be up and at 'em again in the morning.

You hadn't even realized you fell asleep until a loud boom woke you, practically shaking your room. Sitting up immediately, your heart beginning to thump rapidly in your chest, you opened your mouth to yell for anyone who was still awake.

"Guards! Guards!"

Almost immediately, a couple of the many palace guards entered the room, all three being armed. "Your majesty, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I'm-" You were interrupted by another loud boom. You screamed and shut your eyes. "Fetch my husband! Please!"

"Right away, your majesty!" The three left the room to get their king from his room.

Soon, Atem strode in swiftly, and the sight before him broke his heart. His spouse, curled up in a tight ball on their bed, scared out of their mind. He quickly approached them, and gathered his (Y/n) into his arms. "There, there...I'm here, my love. What's gotten you so afraid?"

Clinging onto him almost immediately, you answered, "The storm...I wasn't expecting it..."

"Oh, my love..." Atem gently moved a strand of hair out of your face. "It is only a storm, it will pass."

"No, Atem...I have always been afraid of them. Since I was a child." You shook your head, moving away slightly to look at him.

"Is there any way I can help you with this fear?" He asks, voice soft and kind, as always, and his hand gently rubbing your arm. "I can try to cover your ears, but I'm afraid my hands do nothing compared to the might of Set."

Atem adds a small giggle to the end of his last remark, showing you that he was kidding. It makes you giggle too. "Oh, Atem...how I love you so."

Another boom flows through the sky outside, making you jump and scream, scaring Atem for a moment. He tightens his hold to try and calm you. "My (Y/n), it's okay. As long as I am here, I will protect you. Set will not harm us."

"How can you say for sure?" Your voice shook with fear. "Set is a fearsome God, Atem...have you forgotten all of his stories?"

"Set would not harm the royal family, he protected my father during his reign, and his father before him, and his father, and so on." Atem then gave his spouse a smile. "We are safe. But, if you still feel scared, I can stay with you throughout the night."

You nod. "I...would like that very much."

Atem nods, then moves your head rest out of the way so you both lay on the bed, your face in his chest. "Is this okay?"

You nod again, then yelp and jump closer when another boom rings in the room. Atem thought for a moment. "There is one story that comes to mind about Set. You recall how Anubis killed him, yes?"

You nod. Atem carries on.

"Well, after going into the afterlife, Set had begun to do good things. My father once told me a story about how Set travels with Ra on his nightly trip to the underworld, and Set helps him battle the fearsome Apophis."

You focus in on what your husband is saying. The warmth of his arms around you and his body being pressed to yours, the softness of his voice as he tells a story passed down through generations, and suddenly you find yourself falling asleep once more.

"...and now, when people hear thunder, they are reminded that Ra is engaging in an epic battle, with Set by his side." Atem finishes not too long after, waiting for a response. When he doesn't get one, he looks down to see you've finally fallen back asleep, and the thunder seems to have gotten quieter. Set was moving away, possibly sensing the Pharaoh's spouses discomfort.

Sighing softly to himself, Atem placed a kiss on your forehead and taking in the peaceful look on your face, before finally falling asleep himself. Screw the rules, he's the Pharaoh.

• ───────────────── •

❥ Seto Kaiba

It was after hours at KaibaCorp, and Seto was still at his desk like usual. You, having finished work three hours ago, stopped by to try to coax him back to the house so that he could get some sleep. Of course, he didn't budge. Like usual. Knowing you were going to be sitting here for hours, you opted to order some dinner for the two of you.

"What about Mokuba? Where is he?" You asked Seto before ordering the food.

"He's with Yugi, he wanted to attend one of his game nights." Seto spoke without moving his eyes away from the screen.

After getting said food, you had noticed dark clouds rolling across the sky, with flashes of light in between the angry clouds. Clenching your jaw as your anxiety spikes, you quickly move back to your car and sped (as legally as you could) back to KaibaCorp.

When you got back to Seto's office with the food, he hadn't noticed your anxiety yet, or the rapidly approaching thunderstorm. You plopped the food down and curled up on the couch. Reaching over, you took out your food and begin to numbly eat it while scrolling through your phone, tensing as you start to prepare for the first sound of thunder.

Soon the storm begins, first with a flash of lightning, and then a loud boom soon after. You jump, dropping your fork. That gets Seto to look up as it makes a muffled thump against the ground. "...you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." You nod, going to pick up the fork from under the table. Another flash and boom sounded, making you jump and hit your head on the table.

Reeling back, you grimaced and held your head, and Seto moved over to you. "Are you sure?"

“I…” You sighed. “No. It’s the storm, I’m…scared.”

Seto didn’t do anything for a moment before sighing and pulling you back up on the couch. “I suppose I can stop for the day.”

“What? No, Seto, your work is important. Don’t-“

“Hush.” Seto tapped some more on his keyboard before shutting it, and moving over to you. “Mind if I sit here?”

He gave you a small smirk that makes your heart stutter. You nod and he sits down. Thunder sounds around you both, and you jump into Seto’s side. His heart warmed as you came to him for protection. He put a hand around you.

“It’s okay. No storm will hurt you with me here.”

You resisted the urge to cringe slightly. You loved your boyfriend, but sometimes he can say the weirdest things. “Thanks, hon…”

Seto’s grip tightened, then he leaned over to grab his food, and then grabbed your fork from the ground. “You can share my fork.”

“Thank you.”

Seto ate with one hand, his other hand around you. You watched him eat for a moment before he wordlessly offered a bite to you. You took the bite, then looked to the windows as rain began to pour down.

“It’s okay, we’re inside. Nothing can harm us.” Seto reassured.

“I know, just…” You sigh. “I’m sorry, I know this is probably childish…”

“Is that why you never told me about this before?" Seto asks, taking another bite of his food.

"...kind of." You then jump as lightning flashes and thunder rolls loudly in the sky. "Although, I guess you would've found out one way or another..."

Seto nods, setting the fork down. "Well, I don't think it's childish. People have fears, always have and always will. It isn't something childish or new."

You nod, sinking into his side a little, jumping and yelping a little when thunder sounded again. Seto leaned back into the couch and moved you into his lap, one hand on your head as he cradled it against his chest. His other hand rested on your thigh.

"Is there anything I could do to help?" Seto asks, his hand that's on your thigh begins to massage it, and the hand on your head gently scratches your scalp.

You begin to relax, but tense up again as you see lightning light up the room again. Seto's repeated movements are accompanied by a kiss on the forehead. You focus back on him.

"This is fine...thank you." You move your face slightly, so that it's in his chest.

Seto hums, and you can feel the reverb. It feels nice. It feels warm, and safe. You still tense and jump at thunder and lightning, but Seto's hands help you settle down enough. He occasionally plants kisses on your forehead or cheek, and makes small talk to try and distract you. Before you know it, the storm clears and the thunder begins to sound distant, the lightning becoming less frequent.

"Seems the storm is going away. Should we get ready to go home?" Seto asks, looking out of the many big windows, then back to you.

"In a minute." You mumble, snuggling into Seto's chest. "Right now I'm enjoying myself."

Seto cracks a smile. "Was this your plan?"

"No, but I'll take the outcome." You smile, making Seto let out a small chuckle before tightening his hold on you.

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

#yugioh #yugioh atem #yugioh seto kaiba #yami yugi x reader #yami yugi x y/n #atem x reader #atem x y/n #seto kaiba x reader #seto kaiba x y/n #seto kaiba x you #I love seto kaiba #yugioh men #yugioh duel monsters

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staygoldwriting · 1 year

Text

💝 Take a Chance on Me

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and our Steve Harrington is once again unlucky in love, but an unusual invitation might be just what he needs!

Word count: ~1.5k

Warnings: all fluff!

A/N: Here is a Steve Valentine’s Day fic to go with Eddie’s Candy Grams that I wrote way back when! I adore Valentine’s Day (despite being perpetually single lol), so this might be one of many depending on what you guys think! As always, please show love and support ❤️✨

“I’m sorry, man, but again, we do not have an extra copy of Weird Science,” Steve groaned.

“But come on, Steve! I need Kelly LeBrock. I’m gonna be all alone on Valentine’s Day!” the teenager complained.

“You and me both, kid, alright? At least you’re young,” Steve said bitterly.

“You need Kelly LeBrock?” he asked with a blank expression.

“No!” Steve snapped, “I’m all alone on Valentine’s Day too! So believe me, I get it, it sucks!”

“But… you’re Steve Harrington,” the teenager said quietly, making Steve sigh heavily.

“Times change, man. Here, take this, it’s Kelly too,” he said, handing him a tape of The Woman in Red.

“Thanks, Steve. I hope you find someone this Valentine’s Day,” the teenager said with a feeble smile.

“Me too, thanks,” Steve smiled back. “Enjoy Kelly.”

“Poor Steve Harrington, a king dethroned,” Robin joked as she came out of the back room.

“Hey, last time I checked, you didn’t have a date either,” Steve pointed out.

“I have extenuating circumstances for my perpetual singleness,” Robin said. “You, however, need to get yourself out there.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?” Steve asked. “I spend all my time here with you, I can’t get into college, I can’t play basketball like I used to anymore cuz-”

“Oh, enough making excuses!” Robin snapped.

“Excuses for what?” Dustin asked as he entered the store.

“Little Mr. Lovesick is trying to list the reasons why he’s unlucky in love. Spoiler alert--he’s in denial,” Robin said, smirking at Steve.

“Why don’t you come to the Valentine’s Day dance at the high school?” Dustin offered.

“What? Henderson, you do realize I graduated years ago, right?” Steve asked.

“I mean as a chaperone,” Dustin said. “You know, get your groove on a bit,” he grinned, swaying his hips.

“Never do that again,” Steve said firmly.

“Agreed,” Robin said.

“But seriously, think about it, you might have fun!” Dustin said.

“I don’t want to watch a bunch of kids like you have a better chance at love than me,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Well, you never know. Maybe you’ll hit it off with one of the chaperones,” Dustin sang, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Sure, because all I want for Valentine’s Day is to share a slow dance with Mrs. Click,” Steve scoffed, making Dustin frown.

“Fine. You can spend the night being the cool chaperone, maybe dance a little and have some fun, or you can wallow in pathetic self-pity,” Dustin said bluntly.

“Self-pity, thank you,” Steve said with a sarcastic smile. “Now, why’d you come in here?”

“Do you have Weird Science?”

“Get out!” Steve yelled, making Dustin throw his hands up, backing out of the store. He looked back at Robin, who was smirking.

“What?” Steve asked impatiently.

“Dustin might have a point,” she shrugged, stacking some movies. “Maybe if you go back to the origins of your powers, you’ll get them back,” she said, trying to hide a giggle.

“Very funny,” Steve said humorlessly. “Let’s just get back to work.”

-💝-

Steve tapped anxiously on his steering will, sucking his teeth. He looked out of his window and sighed.

“I cannot believe I’m doing this. Alright.”

Steve opened his car door, slamming it behind him. He smoothed out his pants and made sure his shirt was tucked, then walked to the door, knocking a couple times.

“You came!” said a happy voice.

“Yeah, I came, Henderson,” Steve said bitterly, but trying to hide the happiness Dustin’s excitement brought him.

“This is gonna be great!” Dustin squealed. “I won’t need that ride after all, Mom!”

“Yeah, yeah, come on, let's get going,” Steve groaned, “unless you've somehow got a date.”

“In fact I do! Suzie-Poo had a break in her school, so she’s here for the weekend,” Dustin said triumphantly.

“Of course she is,” Steve muttered. “Okay, where is she, assuming she’s real?”

“She’s very real, thank you,” Dustin replied impatiently, “she’s just fixing her hair.”

“Alright, well, we have to be there in twenty minutes,” Steve said, checking his watch.

“Ready!” Suzie exclaimed, emerging in a puffy mint green dress. “Dusty-Bun, who is this?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“I’m Steve, Steve Harrington,” Steve said, holding his hand out for Suzie to shake.

“Wow, I didn’t really believe Dusty-Bun when he said he was friends with you,” Suzie gasped, “I thought he made you up to feel better about himself.”

“I don’t blame you,” Steve chuckled.

“You’re really cute!” Suzie blushed, not letting go of Steve’s hand.

“Excuse me!” Dustin exclaimed, making Suzie snap out of her trance.

“Sorry, Dusty-Bun! Let’s go. I call shotgun,” she said, smirking at Steve.

“This is gonna be a long night,” Steve sighed.

-💝-

“Alright, here we are. Go crazy,” Steve sighed, smiling weakly at Dustin and Suzie.

“Save me a dance?” Suzie asked.

“Sure,” Steve nodded.

“I don’t think chaperones can dance with students,” Dustin said quickly.

“You danced with Nancy!” Steve pointed out.

“That’s besides the point, I was young and alone, not mature and happily dating,” Dustin replied, glaring at Suzie.

“Perhaps another time, Stevie-Boo,” Suzie sighed, then grabbed Dustin’s hand, taking him to the dancefloor.

“Ah, young love.”

Steve turned around to see who said that, and his eyes fell on you. He grinned in disbelief as you smiled wide, your eyes crinkling.

“Hey, Steve,” you said sweetly.

“Y/N!” Steve breathed. “Oh my gosh, I-how long has it been?”

“Not since graduation,” you replied. “You look good, Steve.”

“Thanks, so do you,” Steve said, blushing. “How has college been?”

“It’s been good, but tiring! I’m doing more of an internship this semester, so I took a small break to come back home,” you explained.

“Wow, that’s so great,” Steve said. “You were always so smart, I really admire that about you.”

“Well, I wish I had your charisma! It would make life a whole lot easier for me,” you blushed.

“You’re kind,” Steve said. “So, what made you chaperone for this dance?” he asked, chuckling a bit.

“Oh, I ran into an old teacher and she guilted me into it,” you laughed. “How about you?”

“Henderson,” he smiled.

“Ah, I see. You two are close, huh?”

“Yeah, we’ve been through a lot. The kid’s a lot smarter than I give him credit for,” Steve admitted.

“Well, he seems to be a genius if he thought to bring you here,” you said, blushing a bit. Steve glanced at you, looking away quickly and blushing.

“Do you-wanna dance?” Steve asked timidly.

“I’d love to,” you replied. “Where’s the rule that chaperones can’t have fun?”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Steve said as he extended his hand. You took it gently as he guided you to the middle of the dancefloor.

Steve held you softly around your waist as you held on to his shoulders. You smiled up at him as the music played, suddenly losing all sense of why you were there. Seeing Steve after so many years stirred up old feelings. You two weren’t close, but you considered him a friend, and when he dated Nancy, you felt crushed. You never told him, but you hated the way their relationship almost erased your own. Drumming up some courage, you took a deep breath.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked, your heart beating fast.

“Of course,” Steve replied.

“I had a massive crush on you in high school,” you admitted. “And I was going to ask you out, but you asked Nancy Wheeler first, so I lost my chance.”

“Wait, really?” he asked, gasping.

“Yeah, really,” you smiled.

“I had a crush on you too,” Steve said. “I was gonna ask you out, but I didn’t think you’d have me.”

“Of course I would’ve had you, look at you!” you said, bolder than intended.

“Again, you’re too kind,” Steve chuckled. “I was a jerk, and you were nothing but nice to me. I didn’t deserve you.”

“And how about now?” you asked, leaning closer to him. Steve looked at you intently, breathing heavily. Your eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in too, kissing you softly on the lips.

“I think I’ve got a chance now.”

“I think so too,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again.

“WOO! Go Harrington!” Dustin cheered from across the gym, making you and Steve break your kiss. Steve shot a dirty look at him, but you laughed.

“Always ruining the moment,” Steve shook his head, chuckling.

“He means well I’m sure,” you smiled, “But we should probably try this outside of our old high school gym,” you joked.

“Well, I am seeing a whole lot of chaperones,” Steve said, raising his eyebrows.

“Agreed, plenty to look over all these kids,” you pointed out.

“Indeed,” Steve nodded nonchalantly.

“Hey, Steve?” you asked, making him look at you. “Is it too late to ask you to be my Valentine?”

“Definitely not,” Steve smiled. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve.”

-💝-

@tillkummer @mlle-ayka @sonicthehedgedoggo @klaine-92 @aurumbelis @onlyangel-444 @beep-beep-sherlock @morishitoshi @onceuponathreetwoone @toomanybandstocare @underthebatcape @zeldaknight @fieldofsecretss @prettyinpunk85 @igotbasicdrag @gothicfaires @thatonecurlygirl @luvthatlovestolove @loliakeoghan23 @dearelliewrites @mslunawinchester @aphex2winn @simonsbluee @inkedaztec @dumplinshee @pastel-abyss-x @frozenhuntress67 @hawkins-hs @witheringawayagain @theshinyrock @hollandcomics @pinkgothiccprincess @persephone13 @katsukis1wife @murnsondock @fictionlandslanddreams @srapalestina @babyghouly @madformunsonsstuff @harrys-tittie @middle—fingering @urmomgov @maybankstarkey @jbetches @stardustmunson @maltinonka

#staygoldwriting #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things x female reader #steve harrington stranger things

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bingoboingobongo · 1 year

Note

Hey, don't know if you want more requests but here's this. Task force 141 reacting to their daughter grumpily trudging up to them saying some boy at their school won't take no for and answer and "apparently you're scarier than I am so could you please make him go away?" They're just bitter that their dad is more intimidating.

task force 141 + protecting their daughters

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: hmmm i don't normally like writing family au's but in the spirit of growth here we are (and it's not so bad lol)

simon "ghost" riley:

okay so i don't think it's a surprise that if simon found out some guy was harassing his kid at school he would flip out

are we surprised that simon is a super protective dad?

no. not at all.

you would probably have to physically stop him from trying to find out everything about the harasser so he could go beat him up

because lord knows if left unattended he would do exactly that

he has his own experience with people taunting and harassing him as a child and simon wants his kid's childhood to be polar opposites with his own

and this annoying boy at school is a threat to that

and simon's literally been trained to take out threats guys let's be fr

after he manages to cool down he ends up going to pick up his daughter from school and he has her point out who the guy who's giving her trouble is

he doesn't even have to say anything because as soon as this little snot sees ur kid pointing at him with simon staring daggers at him he's two seconds away from peeing his pants

and it's for good reason too because keep in mind this is like a 3'2 child (i don't actually know how tall children are) compared to a 6'4, probably over 200 pounds of muscle, simon with a death glare that's sent shivers down grown men's backs

i mean this kid has no chance sorry dude

definitely turns around and immediately sprints away

and what do you know the next day the snot-nosed turd doesn't even look at your kid except for terrified peeks in her direction

but you know simon still wishes he got to talk with (re: beat up) the kid

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so soap tries to solve things with humor so when he finds out some turd is harassing his daughter the first thing he does is try to make her feel better with some jokes

"geez that kid's a real idiot, how'd he pass first grade?"

"don't let it affect you, sweets, you're too good to be worried about someone who spends 90% of their brainpower on stupid things."

basically soap will trash talk this kid

and yk what same so i can't even blame him

when his daughter asks soap to deal with the kid, he definitely pats her on the back and says something like "i'll see what i can do" and then takes her out for ice cream

soap desperately wants to be the favorite parent so he's hesitant about going all "this kid must be stopped and i will do anything to ensure justice is served" in front of his daughter

definitely calls the school to get a better read on what's going on and then goes to talk to the parents themselves

and unfortunately soap doesn't exactly have ghost's height to help him intimidate people but one thing soap does have is massive muscles

that being said he doesn't want to go full intimidation mode so he tries to breach the topic lightly with the parents

but he will put his foot down if needed

he also insists on talking to the kid and when he does you know he threatens him in the nicest also most vaguest way possible to try and protect himself from any guilt

and although his methods may be questionable they work because the next day the snot-nosed turd apologizes to his daughter

kyle "gaz" garrick:

alright so honestly i can see gaz as the kind of parent who preaches being kind and talking things out

but he's also definitely ready to throw hands if some loser is harassing his kid

now unfortunately for gaz he is not very intimidating

i mean he's tall but other than that there's not much

what can i say he has too many pretty genes to look intimidating

definitely will threaten the kid with a smile on his face though

like he's the kind of guy to sorta smile through it and pretend he's having a great time but his words are saying something else

like once he finds out he'll make his daughter show him who the loser is while he walks her to school

and then he'll pull him aside and tell him that he needs to stop talking to his daughter or else it's not gonna be pretty

and even though there's a smile on his face there's something unsettling about it that has the boy unnerved

and so that day at school he's definitely trying to avoid her

and after that he stops being a problem

john price:

alright price is a certified dilf and he's also super duper protective

especially over his daughter

as soon as hears that someone is harassing her he is seeing red

unlike simon though there's no threat of him doing something rash

definitely will have to go outside and smoke a cigar though

he'll ask his daughter who the guy who's harassing her is and will then find out where he lives

and he'll ask you to talk your daughter out for ice cream and a movie and while you're gone he goes to pay the harasser a little visit

i mean when it comes to protecting his daughter price is stone cold

i mean he is more than ready to threaten this kid if he even dares to look in her direction

and he will make sure the kid knows he's serious about it too

and price will only say things once so god forbid the kid doesn't learn his lesson

if so then um

the kids gonna miss a lot of school is all im gonna say

will then pick you guys up from ice cream and a movie and ask how it was

and will tell his daughter that everything's taken care of and to let him know if the kid tries anything again

and then the next day the kid literally refuses to look at your daughter

so mission accomplished

alejandro vargas:

alright so honestly i feel like alejandro is lowkey really intimidating

like idk it's that one smile he does that's sorta unsettling if you're not viewing it through a "omg he's so hot he's my babygirl i love him" lense

so to kids he can be scary when he wants to

when he finds out someone is harassing his daughter he absolutely flips out

one thing about alejandro is he definitely has a short fuse when it comes to people disrespecting stuff he cares about

also with the cartel and stuff he's very very concerned about his daughter's well-being and how she grows up

he wants to keep her seperate from all the violence of his workplace as long as possible so he tries to keep his cool in front of her

but it's pretty obvious how mad he is (as he should)

he makes his daughter point out who the kid is the next time he picks her up from school and then tells her to wait in the car while he deals with him

since it's in public he can't really do anything drastic but he can still be really scary

like he is not afraid to show this kid a glimpse of a gun to let him know that he means business

and maybe it's kinda sadistic but he wants this kid to be wetting his pants as retribution for what he did to his daughter

and you know what it worked because when alejandro returns the car he gives her a kiss on the top of her head, tells her he's proud of her for talking to him about this, and then drives away before she can see the kid crying with a wet spot on his pants

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

ok you guys know i love rudy but we have to face the facts

he just simply is not intimidating

i mean have you seen that clip of him yelling "special forces!" as he breaches that house in texas?

im sorry but he's just too cute it doesn't work out

but just because he's not intimidated doesn't mean he can't deal with his kid's problems

he absolutely loves his daughter and wants the best for her so when he finds out someone's harassing her he's less mad and more sad that she's going through this

he definitely will make sure she is okay at first and then take her on a day out just to make sure she's happy

and then he'll speak to her teacher to try and get a better feel of what's going on

at first he would probably let the teacher handle it because unlike some of the others he's on the fence about threatening a kid

but if the teacher proves to be incapable then he will take things into his own hands

he'll pull the kid aside and try and tell him nicely to back off and stop harassing his daughter

and if that still doesn't work then the serious voice comes out and you can just tell he's ready to throw hands

which honestly is kind of intimidating in and of itself because it's such a contrast to his normal behavior

and then the next day the kid apologized and then spent the rest of the year giving his daughter plenty of space

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ch6douin · 4 months

Note

Hi hi! Recently I got into playing idv again and they have released a christmas map where you can play snowball and ice skate it's really fun and cute I am wondering how that would work out in the self aware au, I think most of the characters would be confused why the map is there and what it is even for but maybe some would use the map to play around for a bit? I would love to hear your thoughts!

Christmas in Oletus Manor was so eerie and gloomy in the first few years. None of the survivors or hunters could ever imagine celebrating in the state they were in, but of course, with more and more invitations sent and people coming in to participate in these games, the tradition changed drastically.

They were all used to organizing the event with no external help and trying to have some fun with what they had in their hands. The veterans were busy cooking large amounts of food and others were busy decorating the manor with handmade ornaments (props to Luca and Tracy for making the flashers). They would feast, some would pray, and then party!

So imagine their surprise when they receive a letter that one of the interdicted parts of the manor is now restored, giving them a chance to have more fun and distractions. At this point, some of them imagine that it was your influence as a player, while others think that it was you who restored the space, after all the only thing that was akin to that before you was Leo's Memory, but it was reserved for matches and they couldn't always enjoy knowing that they were being hunted. Fortunately, it didn't take too long for them to want to cease their curiosities.

What a magical sight it is to see the kids indulging in snowball fights, some survivors like Andrew and Ganji trying to get used to the slippery ice while others like Mike and Martha skated around naturally. On the other side, Anne, Galatea, and Emma trying to build as many snowmen as they can (there are at least 10 of them already, stop them before the whole snow terrain is filled 💀.) while the rest such as Norton, Michiko, Fiona and many others enjoy some hot chocolate and talk. Joseph of course doesn't waste his chance on taking pictures of basically everything.

I don't like how this went but I'm just trying to clarify my thoughts anyway lol

#idv x reader #self aware au #idvselfaware

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lovebaela · 21 days

Text

THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH

Chapter 1: A New Life

masterlist l next

(a/n) hello! I decided to restart my “Ice and Fire” fanfaction because I have so much more ideas for a better story :) even though it’s discontinued, if you would like to check it out here’s the masterlist! I hope you guys will enjoy this one 🤍 I’m working on the masterlist for this series right now!

Divider credit: @dingusfreakhxrrington @valeskafics

°❆⋆Bran Stark x Targaryen OC .ೃ࿔*:･ CW: fem!oc, betrothal (forced marriage), topics of abuse and racism, angst, a lot of fluff, smut (I’ll try lol), and murder.꙳·❅°*˖ Rating: Mature audiences - The mature moments will happen later on. In the beginning, it will mostly just be cute fluff.⋆⁺₊❅.

Why must the gods be so cruel to me? What could I have possibly done to deserve this life? To be sold off like a slave by my own flesh and blood…I’ll never forgive Viserys. Without Dany, I am alone. Without love. I want to go home. But…where do I belong? The summer isles? No, that can’t be my true home, I never had the chance to live there. Do I belong anywhere?

Daughter of the mad king’s younger brother. Rhaella never knew her mother. She died after giving birth in the Summer Isles, killed by assassins under the command of the new king, Robert Baratheon. When he found out Rhaella’s mother was pregnant, he wanted both of them dead. Rhaella was smuggled out of the isles and sent to her cousins, the last Targaryens.

“I know you’re upset,” Lord Eddard Stark said, placing his hand on top of hers.“But please, believe me when I say this. I will never let anyone harm you. You are under my protection now.”

Rhaella gave him a weak smile back. Rhaella, the same name as the Mad King’s sister and wife. Daenerys gave her the name. Viserys despised the idea of his mother’s name given to the likes of a foreign girl. Even though she was still a Targaryen, he only considered her half and not pure. She took after her mother, with more summer isle features. Her skin wasn’t pale, instead, a light amber and tan that would get even darker in the sun. She had long silver curly hair, unlike her cousins who had straight silver blonde hair. The thing Rhaella hated the most was her eyes. Instead of being a pretty violet color, she had dark purple eyes that almost looked black.

Rhaella looked away from the carriage window to make eye contact with Lord Stark, “My Lord?” She asked, “Why did you accept my cousin’s offer to take me?”

“Well, you see,” he explained, “The rebellion caused great loss for everyone. So many people, loved ones, dead. Especially your family, unfortunately. I’ll never forgive him for his order of murder. When the king found out 3 Targaryens were still out in the world, he wanted you all dead. I wanted to prove to him that even though Areys was mad, that doesn’t mean you all don’t deserve to live. By taking you in and marrying one of my sons, we can show him that you are not our enemies. It took him a while to be fully convinced, but he agreed to let you live.”

”But, my eldest cousin,” Rhaella said. “He…he wants to take the seven kingdoms. I’m not sure how, but that is his plan.”

”I highly doubt he is a true threat,” Lord Stark said.

”you’re right,” she admitted. “He can be a big coward at times.”

That comment made him chuckle.

He has a nice smile, very warm and welcoming. Even though he did come off as cold before.

“Will I have to marry now?” Rhaella asked.

“Oh gods no!” He chuckled, “you are far too young, my son as well.”

“Will he like me?”

“I believe so, you have nothing to worry about. Bran is a good kid. He will treat you right.”

Once they made it through the gates, the carriage stopped. Lord Stark exited first so he could get the door for Rhaella. He gently held her hand as she took her steps down. Once Rhaella looked up from the steps, she saw the Stark family before her. Not letting go of her hand, Lord Stark approached his family to introduce their special guest.

“This is Rhaella Targaryen. As you all know, she will be with us now. Treat her as you would treat each other. If anyone disrespects her, let me know.”

They all nodded. A very handsome older boy approached her, “Hello, my lady, I am Robb,” he told her, “I hope you enjoy Winterfell and welcome!” Before walking away, he kissed her hand. That made Rhaella blush, “T-Thank you.” He had blue eyes and dark auburn hair. It was so dark you could barely tell if it was red. He had to have been the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen.

An older girl walked up to her gracefully, “Hello,” she smiled, “my name is Sansa. I hope we can grow to be like sisters! Maybe even brush each other’s hair, make dresses together, and so much more!” Rhaella gave a slight smile back, “I would love that!” Then a girl, who looked not too older than her, approached saying, “My name is Arya! Don’t worry, we don’t have to do girly stuff together. There are other ways to have fun!”

Then, she met Rickon, the youngest in the family, and their mother Lady Stark. “Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed, “aren't you just a lovely thing? Such a beauty.” Rhaella blushed at the compliment, thanking her.

She must be lying to me. I mean, just look at me! The journey to Westeros was so long that hair became wild and poofy.

”You must be frightened,” Lady Stark said. “Trust me, I never favored the cold myself. I still don’t, but you grow to appreciate it.”

Rhaella couldn’t keep her eyes off Lady Catelyn Stark’s features. Like Robb and Sansa, she had long auburn hair and pretty blue eyes. Her gown was also blue, making her eyes stand out even more.

“Where is Bran?” Lord Stark asked his wife.

“I told that boy to stop climbing,” she explained. “Brandon!”

“Sorry mother!” A voice yelled from above, “I’m coming down!”

When Rhaella looked up, she examined him. He looked to be the same age as her. He had dark brown hair and eyes with freckles on his face. He approached her and bowed, “Welcome to Winterfell, I hope you will take a liking to it.” “Thank you,” she replied.

The atmosphere quickly grew awkward. The two children didn’t know what to say to each other.

Lady Stark took Rhaella’s hand, “You must be exhausted, here, come with me.” She guided Rhaella to her bed chamber and had the handmaidens start a bath. After the bath, she laid on her bed for a quick nap.

After waking up, the handmaidens helped her get into a gown for dinner. The dress was purple with roses embroidered across the neckline. Then, they helped her with her hair. They clearly did not know what they were doing. They aren’t used to doing curly hair like Rhaella’s, but they managed to make something of it. They brushed out her curls, putting them in a half-up-half-down style. The ponytail was braided and put into a bun. After the handmaidens left the room, she looked at herself in the mirror.

I don’t even look like myself anymore.

Tears began to fill her eyes, I just want to go home.

She bolted out of the room, not knowing where she was going. She ran outside the big castle but didn’t dare to leave outside the castle walls. She eventually found an area that stood out to her. The whole vibe was strange as if something or someone was watching her. It was nothing but an old forest with no snow. In the middle of it, was a pool and a tree. A tree she’d never seen before. The huge tree was white with red leaves and a face carved into it. She stared deeply into the tree’s eyes for a while.

Is it staring back at me?

She snapped out of it, shaking her head, and climbed up the tree to sit on a huge branch.

Without Daenerys, I am lost. She didn’t know how long she’d been crying in the tree for, but she didn’t care. Winterfell wasn’t her home.

“Rhaella?” She heard a voice ask.

When she looked up, she saw Bran with a concerned look on his face, “w-why are you crying?”

She wiped her tears. “Sorry, I just miss my sister…how did you know I’d be here?”

“I like to go to the godswood, and climb up this tree,” he said. “Whenever I like to be alone and think. I’m sorry you had to leave your sister.”

“Well, she isn’t my sister, not really,” she admitted, wiping her face. “We are actually cousins. We just call each other sisters.”

He sat next to her, “my family was worried about you. They thought you might have ran away.” He nervously chuckled. “I…I know that we are to be married one day. The idea of marriage scares me.”

She doesn’t respond, only looking down at her hands as she fidgets with them. “I have something for you,” Bran showed her a beautiful blue flower. “That was the reason I was climbing.” He told her. “I wanted to give you something as a gift. I was going to give it to you at the dinner table but here. If I hurt your feelings not being there to greet you, I’m so sorry.” Rhaella took the flower and sniffed it.

“It’s called the winter rose,” he continued. “A rare flower that can grow around the castle.”

“It’s so beautiful,” she smiled. “Thank you.”

”You know, just because we’re betrothed doesn’t mean we have to be in love right now or anything,” he said. “Let’s just be friends!”

”Yeah I’d like that!” She said.

”And just so you know,” he whispered. “I liked your hair better before. Your curly hair is much better.”

She laughed, “You and me both.”

”You’re laughing!”

”So?”

”This is your first time laughing here,” he said. “You have a nice smile.”

”Thanks, Bran,” she said. “You know, my eldest cousin ,Viserys, told me and Dany that you guys were evil monsters. But, you guys aren’t monstrous at all!”

Before Bran could respond, they both hear a voice from down below calling for Bran. An older boy who looked the same age as Robb. He was very handsome with black curls and dark eyes. “I found her Jon!” Bran shouted.

”Well, what are you sitting around for? They are all waiting for you two!” The two of them climbed down from the tree and walked with Jon.

“Forgive me, my name is Jon Snow,” he told Rhaella. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

”I never heard of the last name ‘snow’ before,” she confessed.

Bran began to explain, ”That last name actually means he’s a…well—”

”Bastard.” Jon said. His voice was cold and somber.

”I don’t know what that means,” Rhaella said. “But Viserys called me that sometimes, I assumed as an insult.”

”It means that my father, Lord Stark, had me with another woman. I wanted to meet you when you arrived, but Lady Stark thought it would be disrespectful.”

Rhaella couldn’t help but feel awful for him. There was something about Jon Snow that made him stand out. As if they had a connection. She wondered if Jon felt it too.

“You said that Viserys called us evil,” Bran said. “Then why did he want to send you away to us?”

“He hates me,” she answered. “He saw you guys as an opportunity to get rid of me…”

Once they all made it to the dining hall, all eyes were on Rhaella and Bran. “Well, aren’t you just beautiful?” Catelyn smiled. “Please, have a seat.” Bran escorted her to her chair and went back to his. Before Jon could leave the Hall, Rhaella asked, “Can Jon eat with us please?”

”Ah, I see you met him while you were gone,” Lord Stark said, amused. “Would him eating with us please you?”

Rhaella looked over at Jon, whose eyes lightened up. She looked back at Lord Stark and gave a nod. He looked over at Lady Stark, “What do you say?”

She looked into Rhaella’s sparkling eyes and sighed, “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

Rhaella gave a big smile. Jon pulled a chair next to her whispering, “Thank you Rhaella.”

“I hope you like the dress,” Sansa said. “I made it myself! I wanted to test my embroidery skills and decided to make you one!”

“It’s beautiful,” Rhaella told her. “You should teach me!” Sansa nodded gleefully.

“You know, we all thought you ran off and escaped!” Arya laughed.

“I…I didn’t mean any trouble or offense, I apologize.” Rhaella announced, standing up from her chair and bowing her head. “It was rude of me.”

“No,” Lord Stark said. “You have every right to feel the way you do. Your life changed right before your eyes. But please, believe me when I say this, we are here for you.”

“Aye.” Robb agreed. “If you are having trouble with anyone or anything let us know.” She thanked the both of them for their kindness.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was it like outside of Westeros?” Catelyn asked.

Rhaella told them everything. Even about the abuse Viserys had done to her. He always yelled at her for the littlest things. The worst thing he ever did was sneak into her bedchamber with a knife. He threatened to cut out her insides if she didn’t cooperate with his plan to send her to the North.

They all had concerned looks on their faces. The abuse never got to her until explaining it out loud. She really did have it rough.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Arya said. “You are with us now!”

“Safe and sound,” Sansa added.

Rhaella didn’t realize she was smiling.

”So, Rhaella…you said you were from the Summer Isles right?” Theon asked.

“Yes, why you ask?”

He smirked at Robb before asking, “I heard the women there are quite breathtakingly beautiful?” She could have sworn she heard him whisper “and have nice bodies.”

”Well, I’ve never actually stayed there, I had to flee because of the King,” she explained. “But from the books I’ve read and from what I heard from some servants in Pentos, yes, the women there are quite beautiful.”

”I also heard that they have a passion for love making,” he said. “Maybe I gotta visit there sometime-.”

”Theon!” Lady Stark snapped. “Don’t be disrespectful-.”

”Oh that’s okay!” Rhaella reassured her. “You’re right, Theon! They do have a passion for it. If I were to stay in the Isles, I would have been a prostitute myself!”

Sansa and Lady Stark almost choked on their food, as Robb, Theon, and Jon bursted out laughing at the table. She didn’t understand what was so funny, but she laughed along with them.

”What’s a prostitute?” Rickon asked, innocently. That made the boys start crying from laughter. Theon even fell out of his chair.

”Y-You’ll know when you’re older!” Lady Stark said.

”You’ll fit in with us just fine, child,” Lord Stark said. “Welcome to the family!”

°❀⋆Daenerys.ೃ࿔*:･

Daenerys never felt more lonely. She missed Rhaella, her real family. She’d never forgive her brother for what he did.

“Daenerys!” Viserys shouted.

He entered her bed chamber, “do not tell me you’re still upset about that savage.”

She felt rage enter her body as he said those words. “She is not a savage, she’s my sister,” she replied softly. “And I don’t understand why you sent her to our enemies.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” he said. “We both know that’s not true. She’s our cousin. Daughter of our uncle and whatever foreign whore he married. She’s not a pure Targaryen like us, Dany. And she never will be. I gave her away because we need allies, even if they are enemies. The Starks are a strong house, and I knew that Lord Stark would gladly take her in. The fool won’t even know of my plans to destroy him and his dear friend Robert.”

Daenerys always considered Rhaella her sister, even if it wasn’t true. They spent all of their time together, never leaving one’s side. It felt like it was yesterday, the day Rhaella arrived in Braavos as a baby. Viserys wanted nothing to do with her while Daenerys cherished her. She had no idea why Viserys was so upset about naming their cousin after their mother. It was only a name after all. She always thought it was much deeper than Rhaella being a “savage.” She never dared to ask him though.

“I have good news.” He announced. She examined his face, his grin looked devious. Truly it wasn’t good news. “I found you a husband,” he said. “His name is Khal Drogo, Magister Illyrio said. A Dothraki savage. When you two wed, I’ll have his army. We can finally go home, sweet sister.”

Home.

All she ever wanted was a home. A home with Rhaella, where they could finally be happy together. With her gone, Daenerys wasn’t sure if it would be home without her.

“And what about her?” She asked him.

“The savage?” He scoffed. “Those Starks have her now. I don’t care what they do to her. As long as we have our alliance with the North.”

Daenerys wanted to cry, but she stayed strong. I will meet her again, one day.

°❆⋆Bran ೃ࿔*:･

It had only been a couple of months, but for Bran, it felt like he had known Rhaella his whole life. Rhaella also grew close to his sisters but mostly Arya. The three of them were inseparable. Rhaella even taught them some of the Valyrian language. Some nights, the three of them would stay up and read history books about Targaryen history until they got caught by the Septa. For fun, they liked to go sledding and have snowball fights. The older Stark boys and Rickon joined them sometimes, but never Sansa. Ever since Rhaella arrived, Sansa and Arya fought less. It’s like wherever she went, she spread joy. That’s one of the traits Bran liked about her.

Now, everyone is preparing for the arrival of the King.

He overheard his father saying that the King was almost there. Bran felt sorry for Rhaella because she was so stressed out. “What will he do to me?” She asked. He always reassured her, “You are under our protection now, the King approved of you. Don’t worry about a thing.”

At that moment, it was time for Bran to practice his archery. He hasn’t been getting any better. He wanted to show his family he could hit the bull’s eye. First, only Robb was watching him. Then, came Jon and Rickon. Before he knew it, his parents came to watch as well.

“Keep practicing, Bran,” Lord Stark insisted. “Go on.”

Jon leaned in towards Bran, placing his hand on his shoulder, “Alright, father is watching.”

Jon looks over and sees Rhaella and Arya watching as well, “and her…” he whispered.

Bran took a deep gulp. He didn’t like to get teased about Rhaella. They only do it because we are to be married. We are just friends, good friends.

Bran nodded and started to aim his bow and arrow at his target.

“Relax your bow arm…” Robb commented.

Just before Bran could release the arrow, someone else’s hits the target and another shoots right through it.

All of the boys turned their heads to see Rhaella and Arya giggling. “Hey!” Bran yelled. The girls both curtseyed but quickly took off once they saw Bran chasing them. The kids kept on playing until their father took all of the boys to see an execution. Bran was finally old enough to see one.

“Are you scared?” Rhaella asked him as he was mounting his pony.

“I’m not sure.” He answered honestly.

But I can’t be afraid. My father told me I won’t be a boy forever. I’ll be a man-grown soon. I mustn’t be afraid. I need to be brave. Like Robb and Jon. Wolves are never afraid.

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