#I tried my best but as always; if you have any suggestions or corrections please let me know

[royalarchivist]

Quackity: Lately, I have been participating in events and projects, and unfortunately it's become clear to me that my presence and name have only been used to attract the attention of my national and international community with the objective, as I see it, of generating more attention towards controversies - destructive controversies, and a rupture that is very clear in the community. [...] In advance, I ask the organizers of any type of events and projects like this to please show more respect to me and my community, because I've shown lots of sympathy and cooperation in these various projects and events, but it's become clear to me that their only interest is in using my name. My name and my community have been used to attract all this attention for distorted purposes, and I will no longer allow that to happen. That is not what my content is about - not me nor my content nor anything I’ve done.

Here's Quackity's commentary on respect and his reasoning for distancing himself and his projects from future events and awards shows.

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

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Quackity: Before I leave, I would like to talk about something that is very serious for me and something that I would like to tell you about. Because for me it is a very serious topic and it is a topic that- well, I had my mind on and I want to express it- [reading Chat] yes, thank you. Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas.

Anyways, lately I have been participating in events and projects, and in these events and projects, unfortunately it's become clear to me that my presence and name have only been used to attract the attention of my national and international community with the objective, as I see it, of generating more attention towards controversies - destructive controversies, and a rupture that is very clear in the community, and this is what I want to say: I'm NOT ok with these types of dynamics or stuff like this, and I want to make it very clear to my stream, my community, and everyone that, for this exact reason that I just mentioned, I want to make it clear that I want to distance myself and any of my projects from the Esland Awards, which you all know is coming up.

Sadly, the Esland Awards have been an event with a history of much controversy, a lot of division, and a lot of divisions within the community, and as you guys know, as you know, my content has never been characterized by seeking controversy or divisions or anything like that. It's for this exact reason that I don't want to be involved with these awards.

In advance, I ask the organizers of any type of events and projects like this to please show more respect to me and my community, because I've shown lots of sympathy and cooperation in these various projects and events, but it's become clear to me that their only interest is in using my name. My name and my community have been used to attract all this attention for distorted purposes, and I will no longer allow that to happen. I don't want it to happen. That is not what my content is about - not me nor my content nor anything I've done. That's what I want to make very clear here.

That's about it. I'm going to continue with the projects I'm doing and I want to thank my community so much for the support and love. I appreciate it very much, but I wanted to make this clear - I wanted to make this clear. This is just a topic I wanted to address quickly.

Thank you for all the love and support, I love you all so much.

[tsw1234]

Moth To A Flame - D.G.

"And you'll leave him, you're loyal to me"

Word Count: 1549

Pairings: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Notes: Heyyy pookies...how have you been... So, sorry for the long upload wait, y'all when I tell you that school's been kicking my ass like I need to lock in. I feel like I rushed towards the end so if you guys want any corrections or additions please let me know. I give my deepest apologies. Anyways let me not bore you, take this as an apology ;)

Synopsis: You've been hooking up with Dick Grayson (or mystery guy as your friends know him) for almost a year now. Despite multiple protests against it from some of your friends along with your best friend Jason Todd, you just can't seem to call it quits. Why?

Warnings: Toxic-ish and manipulative Dick, suggestive content, mentions of smut, cursing

​​Oh Dick Grayson, where to even begin? Dick is a very goal oriented person; he's always believed in shooting for the stars, to do the impossible. It's safe to say he's always had a tendency to want things he shouldn't have (which isn't much considering his dad is Bruce Wayne).

Insert you, Jason Todd's best friend of almost 2 years and roommate of one. Last year, you and Jason decided to move in together. At this point, you were aware of his ‘Red Hood’ persona and it didn’t hurt that you knew how to do a stitch up or two. From there, your friendship only blossomed.

You were first introduced to the rest of the Wayne family at Bruce’s Gala, around the same time you and Jason moved in. Jason needed a plus one and who else better to ask than his bestie of course! So there you were, on the arm of Jason Todd in a red dress which complemented his red tie perfectly. From the moment you walked in, you caught the eye's of all Wayne family members, Jason was always alone, why wouldn't you? But you resonated with one Wayne in particular; and just like that you became Dick's newest obsession.

Dick being the man he is, tried everything under the sun to charm you (and he did) but you weren't the type of person to give in easily. Though what you weren't aware of, was Dick's ability to be patient and persuasive. And after three long, and agonizing weeks of sexual tension and flirty remarks, you finally gave in.

Flash forward to present day, you and Dick have been hooking up in secret for about 7 months now; and girl do you have him whipped. It doesn't matter that he's been fucking a different girl every week, you were his main priority. You were aware that he was hooking up with others, so you took it as an opportunity to do the same. But Dick wasn't too fond of your decision to reciprocate his actions, despite him doing the same, leading to a huge fight between the two of you.

Now Jason? Although in the dark about who you were hooking up with, he was still caught up regarding all the drama between you and Dick. Jason wasn't fond of this "mystery guy" you would tell him about. He didn't like the fact that "mystery guy" could call you, ask to talk and you'd drop everything to go resolve whatever issues the two of you had. He didn't like hated how loyal you were to him.

Jason just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that a person as gorgeous and funny as you could ruin yourself over and over again for some douche. He wasn't the only one who expressed their dislike for Dick. Cue all of your friends having an intervention with you in your living room.

"Girl you guys have been hooking up, on and off for almost a year at this point. If he wanted to make it official, he would've. Stand up. If he can hook up with others, so can you!"

"How many girls does he have to fuck before you realize that he don't care about you. Was that drunken night when he came to you with hickeys not enough?"

"Why don't you go for Jason instead? He's the one for you, I feel it. He treats you so good, he truly cares for you and he truly loves you."

After hours of opinions exchanged and your friends giving you guidance on the situation, the day was done and the group chat had parted ways, each member returning to their homes. You take a shower and change into a shirt (that just happened to be Dick's) and a pair of shorts. Unbeknownst to you, there was still one more person paying you a visit.

In the midst of you watching your favorite movie whilst eating a snack you hear a series of knocks at your apartment. You pause the movie, place your snack to the side, and walk towards the door. Before opening it, you glance through the peephole in order to get a glimpse of who you're potentially about to interact with.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." you mutter as you open the door. "What do you want, Grayson?". He was still in his Nightwing suit which had to have meant he had just gotten off of patrol.

"Still giving me attitude, princess? I know we got into an argument but I at least thought you would've blown some steam off by now." he says walking past you, stepping into your apartment. You scoff in disbelief and turn your head to look at him. The audacity this man had was ridiculous.

"There's no way you just walked in here like that-"

"Relax princess, I'm just here to talk." he voices, throwing his hands up in defense. You roll your eyes and close the door behind you, making sure to lock it. "Whatever Grayson, I'm going to the bathroom. When I get back, you have five minutes to talk your head off and that's it." you warn.

Perfect timing. He's been trying to find an excuse to snoop around ever since he saw your friends leave your apartment, gossiping about the relationship between the two of you. He just needed evidence. In that moment he noticed your phone, that you left at the living room table, blowing up with notifications. Lucky him. After double checking to make sure you were still in the bathroom, he walked on over to where your phone was and picked it up. Your phone unlocked with ease the moment it saw his face thanks to him putting his Face ID in your phone. How he got your password to do so is a whole nother situation. Once your phone unlocked, he tapped on the messages within the group chat with your friends.

Reading those messages irked him. He didn't like your friends. He didn't like how they would speak about your relationship which he claimed they knew nothing about. He didn't like how they made him out to be the villain when it came to you. What really set him off were the comments they made about you and Jason. Why couldn't they respect the fact that you two were together hooking up.

Once you walked out the bathroom, Dick started reading out the messages one by one.

"[Name] get a grip."

Reply: "Seriously girl, we can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved."

"Leave her alone guys, she clearly has conflicted emotions between him and Jason."

"Really? You're just going to let them talk about me that way? And you like my brother?". You could tell he's pissed as he has a stern tone in his voice.

"Why are you going through my phone? And how did you even unlock it?" you question. At this point you could feel your blood boil. "That's not what I asked."

"Are you for real right now?" you scoff. "You're so unbelievable!" you chastise, leading you to walk around in circles and go in a rant about how he was being unfair and hypocritical. If you were paying attention, you would've noticed the way Dick's body tensed up or how his jaw clenched. He was turned on by your frustration and he would've let you continue if that meant he could listen to you scold him some more, but you weren't the only one who had anger that needed to be released.

He grabs your arm and leads the both of you over to the couch where you sit.

"Your friends think so highly of Jason, as if he's some type of angel and it's sickening. Does Jason know that when you're scared at night or bored or horny you call me? Huh?". He's toying with the hem of your shorts. Your hands are folded across your chest and your head is turned away from him out of pure annoyance. That drives him crazy, you giving him attitude. He grabs your chin and pulls it towards him, forcing the two of you to make eye contact. Exactly what you've been avoiding. Step one of how to get you to forgive him.

"Does Jason know that it's me leaving you with the inability to walk the morning after I fuck you in your bed the previous night?"

"Fuck you." you dispute. Girl he's been trying since he entered your apartment. "Is that an invitation?" he quips, raising an eyebrow. You suck your teeth at him. Taking a deep breath, and closing your eyes you try to remember what your friends said. Fully convinced that you were standing your ground, you open your eyes only for them to meet with Dick's blue ones, filled with lust, staring at you expectantly. Damn it.

"Come on pretty girl, please?". You hated when he begged. You hated it when he begged because you knew that you would give in every time and that's what he was banking on. And so, you drop all your walls and give in, which you'll make a mental note to scold yourself for. But that's tomorrow you's problem. Right now? Your attention is dedicated to the man currently in between your thighs.

[twilightt-fantasy]

stress relief [v.kings]

description: the kings worry that their mate is pushing herself too hard.

requested by: n/a

warnings: uhhh none? maybe suggestive content??

this is totally self indulgent bc i just took my state boards for nursing and let me tell you all, i was stressed and definitely could have used these 3 in my life haha. enjoy!! :))

her head was pounding, eyes straining from re-reading the same question that laid in front of her over and over again. the computer screen seemed to get brighter with every passing second, the words jumbling together as she scrambled through her thoughts to find the correct answer.

she had been at this for hours - the never ending cycle of studying and reviewing that she had been stuck in for weeks now. she couldn’t help it though - every moment that passed where she wasn’t studying felt like a waste of time and, with the help of her overthinking, she was convinced that taking a break would mean not passing.

and she refused to accept anything less than a passing result on her test.

this was the biggest test of her life, after all. she had spent years in college preparing for this moment and was terrified now that it was here. this was the moment that defined if she was capable of putting all of her earned knowledge to the test and being competent in her field.

in her eyes anyway.

her kings disagreed with her.

caius, marcus, and aro all agreed that she had this test in the bag. how couldn’t she? she was incredibly smart and driven and had worked her ass off for years to be the best that she could be. there was no doubt in any of their minds that she’d pass and they had each tried to convince her of that multiple times.

but of course, their mate was nothing if not stubborn, and had a hard time seeing reason when she was under this much stress.

the test was in three days, which meant even more time studying and preparing and more migraines, irritability, stress and anxiety.

she reread the question again and then the answer choices, racking her brain for the answer before finally deciding on her best guess and sighing. the girl reached up to rub her temples with one hand, her other reaching for the glass of water to drink in an attempt to settle the pounding behind her eyes.

behind her, aro watched his mate with narrowed eyes. as one of her mates, he easily picked up on her emotions and was not very pleased with the amount of stress she had placed on herself as of late. she had always been an overachiever in school, always had bad test anxiety and held herself to high standards in relation to grades. but to him, this was excessive.

“how many more questions do you have until that test is over?” aro asked, catching the full attention of both caius and marcus, who were only half paying attention before.

“i don’t know.” she mumbled, answering the next question easily before moving on.

caius rolled his eyes from his spot on the bed before he flashed over behind his mate, the girl not even flinching at his sudden appearance. he peered over her shoulder at the screen before turning back to marcus and aro and holding up five fingers.

caius sat back then, the three of them waiting patiently as she finished the practice exam and viewed her passing result before he sat back up and turned off the monitor.

“hey!” she spun around, her red-rimmed eyes glaring hard at caius. “what are you doing?”

“you’re done.” he said, sternly. “you’ve been at this for hours and it’s nearly midnight. you’re done.”

“no.” she spoke back, her voice raising as she pointed a finger back at the screen. “my test is in three days and i’m not ready.”

“yes you are.” marcus argued before caius could answer with something that wouldn’t help the situation. “and taking a break to sleep is not going to affect anything anyway, especially when you can hardly focus on the questions.”

a lump grew in the back of her throat but she fought past it, ready to argue some more. aro raised his hand, before standing himself and moving beside caius. he gripped her hand is his, his other moving up to rest on her forehead. she sighed, the coldness of aro’s skin relieving the headache she hadn’t fully realized she had.

“cara mia, please take a break. eat a snack, take a nap. and the next two days you can study for a few hours at a time.”

“aro…” her eyes were pleading as she looked up at him but he wouldn’t give in. marcus had appeared to grab her other hand and aro moved back as marcus pulled her out of the chair.

“no arguing, dearest.” marcus pushed her towards the bathroom in their shared rooms, dropping her hand in order to turn on the shower. “take a shower and relax. when you get out, we can do whatever you want for the rest of the night.”

she seemed to debate it, her heavy eyes darting from between her kings to the shower, her lip disappearing between her teeth. “you three are free tonight?”

“for as long as you need us to be, tesoro.” caius answered and the girl sighed again, rolling her shoulders and neck as she did. she stood silent for a few more moments, before the weight of her exhaustion finally hit her and she stepped closer to her kings.

her head fell onto marcus’ chest and his hand reached up to her hair, fingers curling through her strands as she stood there. caius and aro joined them a moment later, aro’s fingers gently massaging the back of her neck while caius kissed her shoulder.

“get in the shower, love.” caius spoke again as steam began to fill the bathroom. “afterwards, no more thinking about that test until tomorrow.”

“okay.” she murmured, pressing a kiss to each of their lips before finally moving towards the shower.

the three left her to relax, barely making it back towards the main living quarters before they heard her call out. “if you’re so worried about how stressed i am, you three could help me find a little relief!”

they were back in the bathroom in the blink of an eye.

* a few days later*

“i passed! i passed! i passed!” an excited voice echoed down the corridors, growing closer and louder with every word. fast footsteps pounded down the hallway towards the throne room, where the three kings sat conversing before the next trial.

the three kings shared smiles as their human mate continued to approach the throne room and they stood to greet her, each of them wearing a proud smile and assuring her that they never doubted her for a second.

[your-favblondie]

'*•.¸♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬♡¸.•*'

(This is one of my first times writing in the past few years and my first time writing in this way so please give me any criticism and any tips you guys may have!! Now on to the story :3)

Word Count: 625

Thank you to everyone who participated in the poll. Our winner was everyone's favorite emo, Choso!! I hope you enjoy the story and if you did leave a like or a comment down below!

Choso is soo sweet but also soooo sooo inexperienced in his relationships.

He probably has only dated one or two people before you if you aren't his first relationship.

He texts like a Victorian gentleman, uses no slang, and has perfect punctuation.

"Hello Sweetheart, I hope this message finds you well. Tell me how your day has been? Love, Choso"

His room is like a teenager's room, with posters and little collections of his favorite things, and on a shelf above his desk, he has pictures of you and his brothers, plus any gifts you've ever given him! (super sentimental) Has a matching couple's bracelets sitting on his desk for you two. ( Shhh he's gonna surprise you)

He's a very clean person! ( no dust shall cover his room) The type to always offer to help with dishes if he eats at another person's house.

Gives you little flowers he found and if you're going on a trip and he won't see you for a while he'll dry some flowers inside a book and give them to you! (he'd also do this on the regular for you and make bookmarks for you if you're an avid reader)

his love language is def gift-giving and touch!! holds your pinky with his, lets you hold onto his arm when you're out in public, and holds you from behind while you're talking with other people.

When he's sick he'll try and hide it because he feels like getting sick makes him weak and useless. ( Once you realize this you'll have to persuade him to let you take care of him. )

At the start of the relationship, I'd feel like he wouldn't be very into PDA mostly because he isn't all too used to it and hasn't been exposed to other couples doing PDA in front of him. But after a few years, it'll be the exact opposite problem will cling to you like a koala bear. Hugs from behind, sweet neck kisses, arm hung loosely around your waist, etc... He can't be away from his darling for too long or he might die!!

uses dramatization for humor, it started off as his version of trying to be sarcastic after you explained to him sarcasm. But he didn't quite catch on...

" Be careful Choso!" you called out to him as he pushed off to the ice skating rink. Recently the icey weather has made it possible to open up a skating rink so you and Choso decided to go and give it a try. Choso says he's great at skating since he and his brothers skated all the time at their non-ice skating rink. You tried to explain to him that they weren't exactly the same but didn't have the heart to break his confidence. Now you rush to put your skate on as your boyfriend waits patiently, well about as patient as a puppy, for you to join him. " let's go," he says holding your hand gently as you both step onto the rink, and for a second you think he might be okay. For a second only though... CRASH Now you stare at your boyfriend whose face planted right onto the ice and was still lying on the rink not being able to get up. as he keeps slipping back down your laughter only grows, you reach your hand out to him to help him steady himself, "I think you may be the greatest skater I've ever seen hunny" You tease. As he rises his face is full of confusion and he turns to look at you. "Baby I think to be a good skater you have to be able to stand?" He corrects you. "I'm being sarcastic chos- " "What is sarcastic?"

now every time he sucks at something he quickly jokes that he is the absolute best at it

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I plan on continuing writing when I have the chance so please leave suggestions in the comments down below! I would greatly appreciate it! I may even do an NSFW ver. of Choso headcannons.

[allysunny]

Oooh can you do 22 and M for Miggy? 🥺

I love soft husband Miggy

"We're not meant for each other” / “I don’t care, I love you” + Domestic Bliss x Miguel O’Hara

Words: 3.6k words

Warnings: Suggestive themes, a small twinge of angst (if you squint), a small mention of blood, overall just happy domestic Miggy! Also some unstranslated spanish (please correct me if any of it is wrong), not proofread. And do tell if I missed anything!

A/N: Here it is!!! The domestic Miggy from my 200 Followers Event! I love this man so much and he deserves the absolute best, I had such a blast writing it.

I'm sorry for the delay, but uni has just started once again, and, well, now I get a bit busier. Hopefully I'll be able to manage everything, seeing as I really enjoy writing, it's a bit of an escape for me. I'll try to remain consistent!

Anyways, here it is! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Peaceful Saturday mornings were hard to come by.

Usually, Miguel was up at the crack of dawn, kissing your forehead and whispering about how he’d come back as soon as he was done with whatever needed taking care of back in Spider Society. You’d whine and plead for him to stay, and he’d promise to return in a heartbeat. Most of the time, he wasn’t home in a heartbeat, and you moped around for a few minutes before going on about with your day.

But not today.

No, today, you’d gotten the blessing of feeling the warmth of his chest press against your back, and his arm curling into you to bring you closer to him. Of feeling the soft rise and fall of his chest, the way his palm was steady on your bare stomach. It was nice.

You closed your eyes and tried to go back to sleep, tried to prolong that feeling of peace and quiet for a bit longer, but Miguel had some different ideas.

“No, no, no, cariño, can’t go back to sleep now, I know you’re awake,” he mumbled, lips brushing the shell of your ear. The raspiness of his voice made your whole body shiver, and you pressed yourself harder against him.

“Shhhh, don’t speak.” You whispered as a response, which earned him a chuckle. His chest reverberated and he held you tighter, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “Just five more minutes. Please, can’t have you leave yet.”

“But darling,” he murmured, “I’m not leaving.”

It was enough for you to roll yourself over, nearly hitting him on the nose with the back of your skull. Miguel laughed at your eagerness, and his smile only widened. Your happiness made him happy. And he was aware of how he had been neglecting you these past few months.

And being a man who had already lost so much in life, he wasn’t going to take you and your marriage for granted. There was a reason he’d been working himself to the bone the last week, coming home far too late and leaving at the crack of dawn. It was exhausting, yes, and while you understood the things he had to do as Spider-Man (an occupation that was surely no easy feat), he could see the way your shoulders sagged whenever you kissed him goodbye in the morning, or he mumbled into your shoulder something sort of “I’m sorry, I need to get up”.

“You aren’t?” you asked, cupping his face with your hands, the planes of his cheekbones fitting perfectly in between your palms. You’d always thought Miguel was perfect for you – you two fit together like two puzzle pieces. Whenever you cooked dinner and he hugged you from behind, kissing the top of your head and watching you as you stirred and seasoned, whenever you cuddled on the couch, his body draped over his as you drooled on his arms and he zapped through channels to see if he could find some interesting documentary while you slept, when you clung onto him desperately as he lowered himself onto you, legs tightly wrapped around his back and face hidden in the crook of his neck. You were perfect together. That much was clear.

Miguel made a soft noise of agreement, and you all but jumped on top of him, peppering his face with kisses. He laughed, a true laugh that came from his chest and made you feel like you were in cloud nine, and loosely wrapped his arms around you, content to have you close.

“You’re not joking? You’re staying home for the day?” you mumbled against his neck, pushing yourself up to look into his chocolate brown eyes.

“And tomorrow as well. And hopefully, Monday too. You’ve got the day off, right?”

You squealed in delight and threw your arms around his neck (or did so as best as you could) and kissed him repeatedly, proclaiming your love for him as you did so. Miguel smiled, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch and placed a soft kiss on his palm. Miguel’s heart melted, and then he slowly traced his face with his fingers. How come you were able to fill his heart with such love, such joy and happiness with a gesture as simple as a kiss?

Qué àngel perfecto.

But Miguel knew you. Truly knew you. And he should also know better than to expect you to be his perfect little angel.

When his thumb softly grazed your bottom lip, you took it inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around the pad of his finger, and innocently looking at him through your lashes. He furrowed his eyebrows and you only smiled, releasing it with a soft “pop”.

Having earned no reaction from him, you frowned.

“I’m sorry. Was that disgusting? I won’t do it aga – “

In one swift motion, you were below Miguel, his toned arms and legs trapping you underneath him. His gaze held something you could only describe as pure, sheer, raw desire, and he lazily let his eyes wonder over the planes of your body. You were wearing a flimsy silk nightgown, a nightgown that, due to his sudden movements, was all bunched up at your waist, exposing your lovely legs to him.

Miguel started trailing kisses from your neck to your chest, earning a few noises he would sell his soul to hear over and over again. The sound of you was enough to spur him on, and soon enough, you could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh. With soft kisses, he made his way down your body, where took your legs, and, spreading them, pressed a kiss on your knee.

It was such an intimate action; it made your insides flare up. You loved Miguel – all of him. And you were familiar with all sides of him. You knew him when he was happy and giddy, spinning you around in his arms and playfully kissing your nose. You knew him tired and sleepy, mumbling sweet nothing in the crook of your neck and falling asleep on your lap. You knew him stressed and hot-headed, begging you to let him blow off some steam by kissing your breath away and making you cry out in pleasure.

But one of the sides you favoured the most was this one. The one where he was sweet and gentle, the one where his eyes expressed only the utmost desire and adoration for you, the one where his kisses meant a thousand words and made your heart swell and swell until you were sure it was going to burst with love.

“What’s on your mind, hermosa?” He asked, voice laced with sleep.

“Just thinking.”

“Ah. Nothing good can ever come from that.”

Miguel pretended to be hurt from the pillow you threw at his head, and his grin widened.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Just how much I love you.” You replied casually, as if it was something as obvious as saying the sky was blue. Which to you, it was. To you, loving Miguel O’Hara and admitting it were as easy as admitting the sky was blue.

“Hm.” Was his hummed reply against the inside of your thigh. You felt his lips brush against your skin and the contact made you shiver.

“How happy I am to have you in my life. How lucky.”  

 “Cariño,” he whispered, coming down once again to brush his lips against yours – a silent promise of what was to come. “I’m the lucky one.”

After that, his lips were on yours, your hands were on his hair, and he was coaching out of you the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard, making up for all the lonely nights and cold mornings away from you.

What a way to spend a morning, indeed.

After you two had showered and put on some fresh clothes, he allowed you to pick whatever activities you’d do for the day. He had 3 days to lavish you in affection and catch up for all those weeks, and the first thing he was going to do was let you have full control.

And to his surprise, your request was food. But not just any kind of food.

A brunch.

And if you wanted to make brunch, damn him if he wouldn’t join you.

You smiled and kissed his cheek, looking up cool pictures that you could recreate from the comfort of your home.

You’d settled on pancakes, toasts, and some cinnamon rolls. While you prepared the batter for each of the items respectfully, Miguel got started on the fruit, cutting them into small pieces, squeezing some oranges for some juice, as well as frying some eggs and bacon.

It was perfect. Music echoed through the kitchen; your favourite playlist having been chosen as the soundtrack for this sweet moment. You and Miguel moved in synch around the kitchen, moving effortlessly around each other, yet still being able to steal in some kisses here and there.

He placed a few in your head while you mixed the pancake batter, and you’d tasted some blueberries off his lips, followed by strawberries, apples, and peaches.

“Stop sampling the fruit,” you’d whispered against his lips, to what he simply laughed.

“Stop kissing me every time I do so, and I will.”

You chuckled and went back to your tasks.

“Mhmmm – that bacon is smelling so good,” you said after a while, glancing at him and his frying pan.

“Is that code for Miguel, please give let me steal some?” Miguel asked with a quirked brow, and you feigned shock.

“Miguel O’Hara! How dare you think the only reason I would compliment your bacon mid-cooking is to steal a piece!” You took a hand to your heart and dramatically turned your face away.

“Not at all. I always love it when you compliment my bacon.”

It took a while for the joke to truly get a reaction out of you, and after a few seconds of silence, you burst into laughter, the flower bowl in your hands dropping on top of the kitchen counter. You grabbed some of the powder and threw it at Miguel’s face, shaking your head.

“That was disgusting – you’re disgusting! Ew!”

Miguel only laughed and did the same, leaning over to spray some of the flour from your bowl on your face.

“Disgusting? I recall you being very eager to get a taste of my bacon earlier this morning,” he replied with a smirk.

“Oh my God! Shut up! Ew! Never say that again!”

Although your words did not express anything other than sheer horror, your mouth was forming a huge smile, and you were giggling in between words.

“And now I’m all dirty!”

“You started it, mi vida.”

“Yeah, because you made a disgusting –“

“Truthful.”

“ – Disgusting comment!”

“Next time don’t be so eager to get a taste of my bacon, and I won’t have the need to make such comments.”

“You’re disgusting and I’m never talking to you again.” These words were uttered in between fits of laughter, and Miguel himself leaned forward, chuckling. The lovely sounds of your joy resonated through the kitchen and Miguel was happy that his house had such a pleasant symphony gracing it.

“Can you pass me some of the salt?” you asked him, reaching out with your arm towards his body.

Miguel nodded and quickly held the small saltshaker. Just as he was about to give it to you, the bacon before him crackled, sending a bit of grease flying onto his arm.

The contact made him shriek, the suddenly hot liquid scalding his skin.

Instinctively, his talons came out, causing him to scratch the surface of your counter, and you.

“¡Mierda!” he shrieked, pulling his arm away from the stove. Unfortunately, his talon also pushed the frying pan with him, and it fell on the floor, ruining all of the bacon that was currently cooking.

“Miguel! Oh, fuck, are you okay?” You asked, quickly turning away from what you were doing. The scratch in your arm wasn’t important – you could tell with that later, even if the pain seemed to be pulsing in your arm.

“Don’t – don’t come closer, I’ll hurt you,” he muttered, quickly retracting his talons, and looking at the mess on the floor.

“No – it’s fine, just tell me if you’re okay,” you repeated, kneeling to catch the frying pan off the floor and clean the area with a cloth.

“[Y/N], I said don’t come closer.” He looked at you, and that’s when he stared at your arm, at the red line that marked it all the way from your shoulder to your wrist. Miguel’s eyes widened and he searched in your face for any kind of pain, of discomfort. All he saw was worry that you expressed for him. “Fuck – I’m sorry mi vida, I hurt you, didn’t I?”

“What? No – No Miguel, it’s fine, I can barely feel it.”

“You’re bleeding.” He said, not sure whether to approach you or walk away, scared he was going to hurt you further.

“It’s fine, Miguel, really, it’s just a scratch and it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“So it does hurt.” He spit the words out as if they were venomous; he was disgusted with himself, disgusted he could bring himself to ever hurt you.

You, however, saw right through him and his internal struggle.

“It wasn’t on purpose. Miguel, it’s fine.” You took tentative steps towards him, hoping he wouldn’t back away from you. He didn’t. Although he did seem to flinch a bit when you touched him, not yet trusting his body. “I’m serious. It’s just a scratch.”

“What if some day it isn’t just a scratch anymore?” he mumbled, looking away, refusing to meet your eye after he’d done something as vile as to hurt you like this. He’d sworn to never cause you any pain and look at what he’d done. Brunch was ruined, and you were in pain. “What if, some day, I really hurt you?”

“I know such a day will never come,” you replied, holding his face in your hands just like you’d done earlier that morning, not caring if they were full of flour. The sentiment you felt was the same. Sheer, pure love for the man standing before you.

“How can you be so sure? I’m a monster.”

“I’m sure because I know you love me. You’re a good man. You’d never hurt me. You’ll never hurt me.” The words are soft and gentle, meant to soothe him and all the doubt that clears his mind. But you know it’ll take a bit more than that to coax him out of his dark spot he carved for himself.

“I hurt you just now.”

“You didn’t mean to.”

“And yet I still hurt you.”

“Yes, but you didn’t want to, so it doesn’t count. It was an accident. What about when I step on your feet when we’re dancing? Do you hold it against me because I have hurt you?”

Miguel shook his head with an indignant expression. How could you even compare the two?

“That’s different,” Miguel expressed, “You don’t mean it. It’s an accident.”

“Okay, but what about that time we both reached out to catch the TV remote and I headbutted you?”

“Well, that was not on purpose.”

“There’s also that time I slapped you last week.”

“You were trying to kill a fly! Not hurt me.”

A soft smile graced your lips, and you forced him to meet your gaze.

“Exactly, Miguel. They were all accidents. I didn’t mean to hurt you just as you have never meant to hurt me.” You leaned forward and kissed him softly. He kissed you back hesitantly, and you pressed yourself harder against him. You wouldn’t allow the man you loved to fear touching you, loving you.

“Just look at me, [Y/N]. I’m a terrible creature. A monster. We’re not meant for each other.”

“I don’t care, I love you.” You replied, without missing a beat. “You’re not a terrible creature, nor a monster. You’re Miguel O’Hara, the love of my life, my husband, the man I love the most and want to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t care if we’re not meant for each other – we’ve faced so much and come so far. If anything, we’ve proven more than once that we are meant to be together.” Your voice was clear, and it was full of determination and love. You saw Miguel worthy of so much – why couldn’t he see it?

He sighed, and his gaze softened, as it often did when regarding you. Moving slowly, he rested his forehead against yours, arms coming around you to wrap you in a warm embrace.

“Te quiero un chorro. Eres el amor de mi vida, y te lo seguiré diciendo hasta el fin de los tiempos. No merezco tenerte.” He whispered.

“Stop that – of course you deserve me. All of me. Just as much as I deserve you. With your fluffy hair, and your terrible jokes and your bacon.” This seemed to get a laugh out of him, even if small. “I love you, Miguel. And we’re meant to be together. Forever and ever and ever, even when we’re old and grey and I’m deaf from listening to your terrible jokes.”

“You love my jokes,” he shrugged with a small smile. Good. He was smiling.

“Almost as much as I love you.”

Miguel bent down, picking you up effortlessly and crashing his lips against yours. You kissed him back, humming happily. He muttered some loving words against your skin and you smiled before he put you down, pecking you one last time.

“Now, can we go back to making ourselves some nice brunch?” You asked, untangling your arms from around him.

“Yes. And so much for me being disgusting – my face is now full of flour,” he told you, raising an eyebrow and pretending to be angry with you (something he could never, ever be).

“It was full of flour before, I don’t know what’s the difference.” You laughed, and he laughed along.

The kitchen was once more filled with the right sounds. Laughing, chattering, and soft music playing in the air.

After a while, all the cooking seemed done.

Plenty of pancakes sat atop a plate, with a bottle of honey and a small bowl of blueberries and other small fruits inside. Cheese and ham toasts were also served, along with a plethora of different jams and other snacks that included eggs, bacon, cookies and even some smoked salmon.

The meal was eaten contentedly. Your hard work had surely paid off, and you busied yourself telling funny anecdotes and stories from each of your workplaces while you ate. Miguel confided in you that some of Miles Morales’s ideas were actually good, and that Spider-Punk Hobie Brown had made him chuckle once or twice. You’d met them both before and thought they were simply delightful, having unofficially adopted them and looking over them a few times, by cooking them meals and checking up on them.

You told him about all sorts of funny antics your coworkers did at work, nearly making him spit out his drink when you told him what your work best friend had sent your boss, thinking it was a personal email to you.

The food was fantastic, the music sounded lovely, and the company was all you could’ve asked for. When you two were done, you put the dishes in the dishwasher, making it your own Tetris game, and falling on the couch after it was done.

The rest of the day was spent in peace.

You watched a couple of movies you’d been meaning to watch together for a while, with you and your husband trying to catch as many popcorns with your mouth as possible, read a few books sitting outside in the balcony, making the most out of the sun’s warm light, and just hanging out. That’s something you could never get tired of – just hanging out with your husband.

You didn’t always have to be doing an activity. You didn’t have to be cooking dinner, watching movies, or cuddling. Sure, doing those was fantastic. You’d done them all and enjoyed your time with him. But just being around him was enough sometimes. Knowing that he was right there, next to you, instead of inside that dreadfully dark lab of his was enough to make you smile.

“I love you,” he told you as the sun began to set, lifting his eyes from his book to stare at you, who were engrossed in your latest hobby.

“I love you too,” you replied, giving him a sweet smile.

Your gaze turned back to whatever you were doing, but Miguel’s never left yours. He watched as the last sunrays shone on your features, making your skin shine with an ethereal glow. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed in concentration and how your lips parted softly to smile once you were happy with what you were doing.

You were too good for him, and he still thought there was no way he deserved you.

You were a goddess among man, and he, just lucky enough to be in your graces. Maybe he’d done something right in a past life – because as he watched you, bathed in sun and warmth, and recalled his marvellous day spent by your side, he was sure there was no way in hell you weren’t a gift from the heavens above.

Beautiful and kind and caring, and all his.

You were a vision, and he was so damn lucky to be able to just look at you in all your glory.

Yeah, Miguel thought, he really ought to stay home with you more often.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys have enjoyed it! I really like writing for Miguel, he deserves a big hug and a big smooch. I'm such a simp for him omg...

Have an amazing day ahead, everyone! <3

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Always There - Chapter One: S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of death and murder, mentions of Azkaban, shittyly written angst,

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

Author's Note: It's been a long ass time my friends, but I'm trying to make a come back here. I was a bit out of my comfort zone with this one so I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 1146

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

GIF by red-artemis-jane

not my gif

The year Harry turned 11 was the year professor Sprout retired, in turn, Y/N got the position as herbology professor. She enjoyed teaching her nephew and loved being back at Hogwarts no matter how much it pained her to be there without her brother and his best friends. The first two years went by without much issue, however, in Harry’s third year, Y/N heard whispers of a new professor starting at Hogwarts, an old student from her time there. And she had also heard about the escape of Sirius Black, her brother’s best friend who had supposedly ratted the couple out to the dark lord and got them killed. It was a lot of emotions for her to deal with at once.

She was already at Hogwarts when she got word that Harry was attacked by a dementor on the train ride there. She rushed to the main hall and found her nephew rather quickly. “Merlin Harry, are you okay? Did you get hurt? How did this happen?” She bombarded her nephew with questions before engulfing him in a tight hug.

“I’m okay, Aunt Y/N. I didn’t get hurt, I don’t know what would’ve happened if professor Lupin wasn’t there,” Harry reassured his aunt.

“Lupin?”

“Professor Potter, we are waiting for you at the table, you may catch up with your nephew after the feast,” Dumbledore’s voice interrupted. She planted a kiss on her nephew’s forehead before following the headmaster to the table. She took her usual spot beside Severus, not even noticing the new but familiar face on the other side of the man. Dumbledore began his usual beginning of the year speech, this time including that due to the escape of Sirius Black, dementors would be gracing Hogwarts with their presence. “I would also like to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor R.J Lupin.” Y/N choked on her tea at the name, Severus patting her back gently as he suppressed a chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me you git,” She said harshly.

“I wasn’t laughing,” Severus replied monotonously.

“Sure you weren’t.” Once the food was put out and she had filled her plate, she took her plate to the greenhouse to get herself ready for another year. She also just needed a minute alone, away from everyone, so she could try and process everything that was going on. As she sat at her desk to begin processing, the greenhouse doors opened. “I really don’t want to talk right now Sev,” She said without looking up.

“Good thing I’m not Severus,” A familiar voice spoke, “It’s been a long time.” She looked up to see Remus standing a few feet away from her. Her mood soured just a bit more at the sight of him.

“And who’s fault is that?” She snapped at him.

“I deserve that,” He sighed.

“Why are you here Remus? Shouldn’t you be at the feast?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Remus retorted, “I wanted to talk to you without your guard dog with you.”

“Then talk. And he isn’t my guard dog, he was there for me when I had nobody.”

“I also deserved that. Look, I just want to apologize for leaving without a word or even a letter. I thought it would be safer for you and Harry if I left, especially with my condition. It was too dangerous for me to be around you two. You didn’t deserve that.”

“If that’s all you have to say, then good night.”

“Talk to me Y/N! Yell at me, throw things, do something!” Remus shouted at her. She shot out of her chair, rushed around her desk and got in his face. Her heart raced with anger, her head spinning as tears sprung in her eyes.

“You want me to talk, fine, I’ll talk. You left me when I had nobody! My brother just died and you up and left! And then Peter died and Sirius got thrown in Azkaban and I got a baby practically thrown at me and you left me! The only person that was there for me, that got me out of bed, that got me to eat and took care of me, when I couldn’t do it myself, was Severus! He helped me and you were nowhere to be found! So fuck you Lupin, get out of my greenhouse!” She yelled at him, tears flowing down her cheek, chin trembling as she held back sobs.

“Y/N ple-”

“Get out! Get out of here before I do something I regret!” With that, Remus walked out of the greenhouse, leaving a sobbing Y/N alone, once again. That was the way Severus found her about 20 minutes later and, once again, he was left to pick up the pieces Remus had left behind.

“Darling, what happened? Why are you so upset?” Severus asked her, his voice filled with concern. When she didn’t answer, Severus became even more concerned but connected the dots. “Lupin came to see you, I’ll kill him.” She let out a teary chuckle at the threat he said under his breath.

“He came into my office, I thought it was you at first because I hadn’t looked up but I was wrong. He apologized and then wanted me to say something to him and I just screamed at him. It felt good to finally get it all out but it still hurts,” She finally explained. 

“I’m glad that the foul git got what he deserved. Do you want to talk about it?” She had nodded her head and the two talked for nearly 3 hours, about everything that was going on. Severus reassuring her as they talked and validating her feelings and her thoughts as the conversation continued. They had moved their conversation to a sofa she had in her office, eventually talking until they fell asleep. That was how Minerva found the pair when she had been wanting to chat with Y/N about Remus’ new position in the school. In all of the years she had known Severus, she had never seen the man sleep, let alone even yawn, so imagine her surprise seeing one of the most beloved professors sleep on a couch with the most dreaded professors together, not only just sleeping but snuggled together. Severus had his arms wrapped around her in a seemingly protective manner, Y/N’s head dipped down, resting on his chest, one arm around his waist, the other tucked into her chest.

Minerva just knew that she had to tell Albus and Sybil about the sight she took in. Before leaving the greenhouse office, she made sure that the lights were out and the two of them were covered in a blanket Y/N had lying around in her office. Minerva finally left the office with a smile on her face and a warmed heart at the sight.

[earlgreydream]

Could you maybe do a hybrid!reader x marauders ? Kinda like your one for kinktober. Oh also you don’t have to include this but maybe some reader being bratty and then getting spanked? Thank youu

🩶 kinktober, day 1 — pet play/hybrid!reader

for kinktober and only kinktober (my excuse to write some grossly off brand smut) also whoops this is short and last minute because HOW is it already october

“get in here,” James scolded halfheartedly, rubbing your head as you knelt between his feet.

of course you tried to behave, but your better nature got the best of you. the boys were having a meeting, and while Remus’ and Sirius’ voices usually soothed you, you grew restless at James’ feet. his hand gently stroked your cheek, petting your ears all in an attempt to keep you docile. when his fingertips brushed over your lips, you bit him sharply, bored of their droning on and on.

“ouch, jesus!” James snapped at you, swatting your cheek, abruptly catching you by surprise.

you sank back against his legs as three sets of eyes turned to stare at you, hard glares wordlessly announcing how much trouble you were in.

“what have we told you about fuckin’ biting, you brat?” Sirius grabbed your collar, roughly dragging you forward until you were on your hands and knees at his feet.

when you didn’t answer, he pulled hard on your tail, a warning that he was impatient with your brattiness.

“you’ve told me not to,” you mewled pathetically, eyes wet as you gazed to James for help, the man having no sympathy.

“and then you bit James, like the nasty little thing you are,” he hissed, tears welling at your lashes.

“m’not nasty! daddy,” you whined, more upset about falling from his good graces than the obvious punishment that awaited as a result for your misbehavior.

Remus sighed, letting Sirius batter your feelings a bit, letting him rile you up before Remus dealt any real correction. he was the hardest of the three, the strictest, always demanding perfect behavior from his little pet. when you were good he spoiled you, and you adored him like no one else, but when you stepped out of line, he became your worst fear.

“c’mere, I think siri’s had enough of you,” Remus sat down, accepting you onto his lap.

his palm was heavy against your throat as he squeezed you firmly, using the hold to manhandle you over his knee. there was no other preparation needed, the boys kept you naked in their home.

you loathed being bent over Remus’ strong thigh, your legs parted just enough that your pussy peaked out, allowing them to see how wet you’d get when they administered even the slightest hint of pain. he controlled your breathing with a hand on your throat, the other, taking a leather strap that James offered.

“are you sorry?” James asked, tilting your chin up, seeing premature tears soaking your pretty face.

“yes.”

it wasn’t a second later that Remus’ leather paddle cracked hard against your ass, the sound making you jump before the pain registered. a tongue of fire burned on your delicate skin as it licked your backside, pain searing through every nerve ending.

you jumped forward, steadied by the dominating grip on your throat. it muffled the pathetic sounds falling from your lips, and kept you looking at James and Sirius.

“m’sorry,” the whimper fell on deaf ears, the warmth smeared between your thighs suggesting otherwise.

your writhing and whines did nothing to appease your captor, and as much as you tried to help it, you couldn’t fight off the orgasm threatening to snap the tightening knot in your lower belly.

“please.”

Remus, James, and Sirius knew exactly what you pleaded for. It was no longer for him to cease his scathing of your perfect skin, but for more, enough to push you over the edge until you fell to pieces.

[currentlybradshaw]

nightly routine | b.b.

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x wife!reader

description: in which our sweet bradley helps a sleepy reader with her nightly routines

warnings: teeth rotting domestic fluff with a brief shower scene and a few suggestive lines sprinkled in

word count: 1.2k

His fingertips massaged your scalp as he worked the sweet-smelling shampoo into your hair. The familiar scent it left on the pillows of your shared bed was one he knew would be burned into his memory as long as he lived. Hot water streamed down on the two of you, helping to wash away the stress of the work day. Thankfully, it was Friday, so you would finally get a day to yourselves tomorrow.

Bradley leaned down to place a kiss on your shoulder before he shifted you back under the water, letting you rinse the bubbly mess from your hair. You failed to hold back a yawn as you did so. “Someone’s sleepy,” he teased. Your eyes were closed, trying your best not to get soap in them, but you just knew there was a soft grin playing on his lips.

Bradley shut the water off and stepped out of the shower with you behind him. After quickly drying off, you wrapped your hair up in your towel while he secured his around his waist. You reached to grab the plush robe he already had waiting for you. The fuzzy material felt soft against your skin; you tied the belt into a bow as another yawn escaped your lips. “I am so tired. I don’t even have the energy for my routines tonight.” You rubbed at your eyes in an attempt to will away the sleepiness that overwhelmed your body.

Your nightly routines, especially your post-shower routines, were something you always did no matter what — Bradley knew that too. He loved watching you go through all the steps; it was fascinating to him. Having seen you do it so many times, he could probably do it himself with his eyes closed. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror. “Nope, you never skip on your routines, and we can’t have you starting now, little lady.” His voice was soft in your ear before he left a kiss on your cheek. “How about you let me do it for you?”

Your eyes met his in the reflection. “Are you sure you’re up for that? — It’s quite a process,” you said, giving him a questioning look. “Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he lightly tightened his embrace on you, “but I would be more than happy to take over tonight.” Before you could put up a fuss with what little energy you had left, he turned you around and hoisted you up onto the countertop. The cool marble hitting the back of your thighs made a slight shiver rush through your body.

Bradley tugged open the drawer where you stored your skincare essentials and started setting out everything he needed. You were somewhat surprised by his actions. Sure, he would sit with you during your routines, occasionally asking which products did what, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he was actually paying attention. Grabbing the first product, he asked, “Are you ready, baby?” You nodded up at him while letting out a little giggle as he rubbed the serum between his fingers. “Don’t look at me, please.” Concentration was already heavy on his features.

He swept the various products across your face, careful not to get any in your eyes or hair. You would occasionally sneak a peek at him just to make sure he was still going in the correct order. At one point in the process, he grazed over a slightly ticklish spot below your jaw, causing you to scrunch your nose as you tried not to squirm away. He had to let out a little chuckle at that; you were too cute.

After finishing your skincare, he gathered you up in one swift motion and carried the short distance to the bed before laying you down. “I’ll be right back, honey! — I know we aren’t done yet!” He returned a minute later, holding up your hairbrush and the bottle of lotion you always used after the shower. “I think you’re enjoying this a little too much, babe,” you said, shaking your head. He just gave you one of his goofy grins and a shrug in response, a pleased look on his face.

He didn’t waste any time rubbing the lotion into your skin, his skilled fingers working out any tension and soreness as he went along. Your smooth legs felt like silk under his calloused palms. It reminded him of how they felt under the sheets as they brushed against his own. Or how they looked when you wore those sundresses he loved so much — they seemed to give off the most enticing glow, which always drove him crazy.

You were in a state of pure bliss as he worked his magic on you, but as his fingers danced higher up your inner thigh, you were quickly pulled out of your trance. You pressed your foot into his chest, lightly pushing him away. “Not tonight, Bradshaw,” you warned, shooting him a halfhearted glare. He raised one of his hands in surrender. “Just making sure I didn’t miss anything.” He brought your ankle that was still in his grasp to his lips, giving it a quick peck before he began the process all over again on your other leg.

After he was satisfied with how your skin beamed under the dim lighting, Bradley went to his side of the closet to find you a sleep shirt. He wasn’t letting you lift a finger, insisting on doing everything as he tugged your robe off and slipped the oversized shirt on you. Once you were changed, he joined you on the bed, resting his large frame against the headboard before pulling you to sit between his legs. 

You sat crisscrossed in front of him while he untangled the towel from your hair, attempting to smooth it down before he started brushing. “Tell me if it pulls too much, and I’ll stop, okay?” He was as gentle as ever, making sure not to hurt you. The feeling of the bristles lightly scratching your scalp was enough to make your eyes start to flutter shut as you let out a sigh of contentment. Having your hair brushed or played with was a weakness you both shared; it would lull either of you to sleep in a matter of minutes.

You felt him shift behind you as the movements of the brush gliding through your hair stopped. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you in place as he leaned over to put your hairbrush on the nightstand. “All done, sweet girl,” he whispered against the side of your neck, mustache tickling your skin as he peppered a few kisses. 

Bradley stood the two of you up before moving to hold the covers open for you. You gladly crawled in, pulling the sheets up to your chin. The room grew dark as you heard your husband shuffling across the floor. You felt the bed dip beside you, warm arms engulfing your body not a second later. You snuggled against his bare chest, staying there for a moment before leaning back to peer up at him. “Think you could take over again sometime?” You felt a soft laugh rumble through him. “Just tell me when, honey.” He kissed your forehead and pulled you back into him; you yawned one last time before finally allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

AN: if you’ve made it this far, i just wanted to say a huge thank you! likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome! 🫶🏻

[williamrikers]

hello fellow kinnporsche enjoyers,

i spent the past couple of weeks working on creating new subtitles for the show, and can now proudly present the complete updated english translation!

i ended up making quite a few changes in order to keep that balance between staying true to the original intent of the text and making the subtitles sound natural to native english speakers. all changes are under the readmore!

i hope some of you will find these subtitles useful, i put a lot of effort into creating them 😊

here's the list of changes i made:

i corrected all grammatical errors

i replaced papa with dad, father, or variations thereof

i replaced mr./ms. with khun where appropriate

I replaced khun tankhun with khun nu where appropriate (nu is a term of endearment, the literal translation is "mouse")

i uncensored all swear words/replaced them with more fitting swear words

i westernized some of the dialogue to make it sound more natural to native english speakers. that means that the nuance of the original might be lost in places, but in ways that should make the story easier to follow

i tried to give the characters a more consistent style of speaking. the original translation randomly varies between very formal and very informal expressions, and I did my best to smooth that out while still preserving the different levels of formality present in the thai dialogue

(disclaimer: i do not speak thai. if you spot any mistakes or have suggestions for changes, please contact me! i'm always happy to chat about kp!)

[ssahotchnerr]

Hey, hope you're doing good today 🤠 how about Domestic!Aaron "helping" wife!reader clean the house? It's a rare weekend off for him, but of course he can't sit still, and he sees reader starting to clean and he joins in but she sits him down because 1, he's supposed to be chilling and 2, he just doesn't do it right. He helps her anyway because "no wife of his is going to slave away cleaning while he sits on his ass." Thanks for considering this 🥹

let me help you

fem!reader cw: fluffy bickering, concern for aaron, slight suggestive content

the second you opened the dishwasher, you felt a familiar pair of hands on your waist.

usually, in this scenario, it wouldn't take long for you to be a goner, as aaron was the best distraction. the hands on your waist would begin to wander- up and under your shirt, fingers slipping into the waistline of your pants, any place he particularly wanted to pay special attention to. his lips would soon find that spot on your neck, causing you to melt into his touch, your back flush against his front.

but instead, aaron simply maneuvered you aside, taking over himself.

"what are you doing?" you immediately whined, trying to reach for the glass in his grasp, to which he held out of your reach.

"what does it look like i'm doing?" aaron asked in a teasing tone, opening the nearby cupboard to place it inside.

"it's your day off." you swatted at his hands as he attempted to reach into the dishwasher again, before finding home on his torso. you tried to shove him away but he resisted, firm in his stance and much stronger than yourself.

"weekend off." aaron corrected you with a raise of an eyebrow, his hands landing on top of yours.

"only more the reason to do nothing then." you pouted as you brushed your thumb against his pec through his t-shirt, aaron kissing your lips gently the second it came into view.

"let me help you."

"and let me help you take a break. it's about time you add that word into your vocabulary."

"and let my beautiful wife do all the work herself?" he gave you an almost appalled look, accompanied with a warm, playful glint in his eyes. "i don't think so."

you gave him a look. "i'm serious. you overwork yourself at work, and i'm not about to let you do the same at home." you untangled your hands from his, poking him in the chest affectionally. "i worry about you, you know."

your voice found an unintentional smallness in your last comment, and aaron's expression immediately changed- softening. "you don't have to worry about me sweetheart." his tone was gentle, assuring. "i'm fine. more than fine, if anything."

"that's what you always say." you sighed. "just, what if you're not and-"

"and i would let you know." aaron interrupted, finishing your statement for you. you audibly let out a sigh, and his fingers refound yours once more. "i would let you know." he repeated as he clasped onto your hand, holding it right to where his heart was; a promise.

your eyes studied his, stern yet comforting, which made it difficult to not believe him. you nodded, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. "okay. but would you please go sit-"

"again, i'll sit," aaron countered, granting you another kiss. "after i help my beautiful wife with the dishes."

"aaron hotchner, you're insufferable." you shook your head, but a laugh escaped you. you finally surrendered, stepping aside to give him full access to the dishwasher.

"and you love it." he teased, his smile causing your heart to skip a beat. no matter how long the two of you have been together, no matter how many times you've witnessed that exact smile, it's effect on you never faltered. and you were certain it never would.

the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, working alongside each other; aaron handling the plates as you busied yourself with the silverware. a minute or two passed before he spoke up again.

"and besides," aaron said, one of his hands finding momentarily placement on your behind, giving it a squeeze. "the sooner this all gets done, the sooner i get to have your complete and undivided attention."

[jo-harrington]

Heaven - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie had written off ever finding his person. Yeah he could fool around and have some fun, but at the end of the day no one would look at him the way he wanted them to. Until you came along and, in the most unexpected way, changed his life forever.

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: Fluff, Love at First Sight, Soulmates(?), Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Implied Sexual Encounters, Implied Supernatural Encounters, Angst, Abandonment, Biblical and Other Literary References

Note: Set before Hell, we have our introduction to Reader/OC for my Van Helsing AU/Kas!Eddie series, As Above, So Below. Once again, this can be read as a stand-alone, but if you're planning on reading the eventual series, you might want to read the prequels.

That being said, this fic and the subsequent fics/chapters in the series will not be for the faint of heart. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find the As Above, So Below masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"Your place in heaven will seem to be made for you and you alone, because you were made for it. Made for it stitch by stitch as a glove is made for a hand."

—The Business of Heaven, Daily Readings from C.S. Lewis (1984)

March 1984

When Eddie met you, he had all but given up on finding love.

He had heard it all before.

He was young. He still had the rest of his life ahead of him. Maybe love wasn't in Hawkins. He just needed to have patience.

But it stung to watch the others receive affection, care, and understanding when he waited. Wanting, deserving, but never receiving.

Until you walked into the Hideout, wet and weary after a long drive to an unfamiliar place in unforgiving conditions.

You weren't some spectacular beauty, or otherworldly siren, or heavenly angel that he would expect in a fantasy novel or a DnD game. You were, quite frankly, a mess. But as you turned and nodded your head along to the music, Eddie swore his heartbeat was louder than Mickey's relentless assault on the drums.

He approached you at the end of the set as you sat at the bar nursing a cherry coke and circling want ads in the classified section of the Hawkins Post.

He asked you if you liked cheese fries before he even said hello.

And the laugh you made was loud and honking, but it was nevertheless perfect.

You were a disaster made, he hoped, just for him.

June 1984

“The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall rise,” Eddie muttered as he traced the words etched into your forearm. “That from the Bible?”

"Yeah."

“That’s pretty badass.”

While all of his classmates were dressed in their best clothes—their caps and gowns—being celebrated by the fanfare that befitted the class of 1984, you and Eddie were spread out in the back of his van in your underwear, studying each others tattoos after a day of swimming and skipping rocks at Lover's Lake.

It was a lazy kind of day.

You had sensed his anxiety in the days prior, when you asked about the end of the school year, about his plans after graduation. He initially wasn't going to tell you that he wouldn’t be graduating. He tried to skirt around it. But somehow you knew.

You always knew. Because you knew him.

You suggested a day out, just the two of you. Something special. As opposed to the many "dates" he had taken you on where his friends ended up tagging along. You promised you didn't mind, but he would have liked to kiss you freely without some doofus making lewd noises in the background.

But your idea had been perfect.

Graduation was played up to be some kind of achievement, something special. But how could it be when you were surrounded by a hundred other kids who all knew the same shit you did. Probably didn’t even know it, actually; they were just good at remembering it for a little while.

How could that feel special?

But this? Learning about you? It was more important than math or science or some other useless bullshit.

Knowing you—loving you—was the most special thing he could ever achieve. And he was proud to say that he was getting straight A’s.

“Listen," you started as Eddie pressed a kiss to your skin. "I know all of the love-thy-neighbor-Jesus shit is pretty lame. But…I don’t know, some things are cool.”

“Care to elaborate?” he asked.

“Some of the Saints…reliquaries, catacombs, the Book of Revelation,” you shrugged. “You can kind of choose what you want to believe in, I guess.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point of organized religion?” He huffed and rolled onto his back, pulling your arm across his torso so you could rest your head on his shoulder and your body could drape across his comfortably.

"Isn’t what the point?" You fished the sharp pendant of your necklace from between your bodies and laid it on his bare chest beside his.

His was simple, a guitar pick he'd caught at the first concert he ever attended.

Yours, intricate, a silver cross with flowers and vines intermingled around the arms. Hyacinths, you told him once. As though he knew what they were. But he made a mental note to try and find them for your birthday, since you seemed to like them enough to have a necklace with them.

“Well, it's organized. That you all believe the same…I dunno. Stories? Lessons?” He rambled on as his hand gestured absentmindedly.

“It's all just…rules made by old men,” you scoffed. “Some stuffy guy in the Vatican says…I don’t know…don’t step on a crack or you’ll break your mother’s back and earn a one way ticket to hell? And I’m supposed to believe it?”

“That’s just a superstition.” He paused for a moment and snorted. “Kind of ironic that I, a supposed devil worshiper, am telling you this, Miss Catholic School.”

You rolled your eyes at him but still smiled.

“Pretty sure if someone knows more about Satan between the two of us,” you giggled. “It’s me.”

“Shhh, you’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

July 1984

The 4th of July fell on the most perfect day.

It might have rained a little earlier that morning, but Eddie had certainly slept through it, and it made way for perfect skies and just the slightest slickness to the grass as he and the boys ran around the open fields surrounding Weathertop.

The van was full of fireworks, and Jack's mom had set them up with sandwiches and a few coolers of iced tea and lemonade. Mickey brought the beers. Eddie had the good sense to invite some of the younger guys too, which meant Gareth's mom had sent him along with a few extra pies she had made.

Apple, Strawberry Rhubarb, and Cherry—Eddie's favorite.

His mouth watered for the tantalizing summer feast, but he craved you more.

You were a little late to the party, having worked the opening shift at Bradley's, but before long your clunky, hand-me-down Marquis pulled up alongside his van.

"The freezers went down at work," you called to the boys. "So I have, like, a hundred boxes of bomb pops. Can I get some help before they melt? I have no A/C, so it’s hot as Hell."

It had just reached the height of the day, and the boys whooped and tripped over each other to get to the sweet, icy treats.

"In the backseat," you reminded them. "Not the trunk."

“Why don’t you let me take a look at your car?” Eddie asked, snaking his arms around your waist.

“To fix the a/c? If you want.” You shrugged but beamed at him. “It was my grandpa’s car. It’s on its last legs anyway.”

"At least let me look at the trunk." Eddie offered and you rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away from you playfully. "What? Then you wouldn't have to shove, like, a hundred boxes of bomb pops in the backseat."

"I swear, the trunk is just rusted shut at this point," you supplied with a laugh. "There's no use."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," he pouted. He knew you knew when he was fishing for a kiss, but you gave in to his pouting anyway and immediately chased after his lips to plant one on him.

That night after the feast is consumed and everyone is enjoying the fireworks, Eddie couldn’t ignore the feeling that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

His closest friends would be gone soon, off to college and leaving him behind. His band practically broken apart, dreams shattered, if not for Gareth and Jeff.

Everything was changing.

And the only constant he could count on now was you.

He couldn’t help but worry how long it would be before you'd leave him too.

October 1984

The cicadas chirped and buzzed wildly. A mourning dove that had nested on top of the trailer in the spring and was still there and cooed restlessly, calling for a mate that had left it behind. The cheap window units Wayne had gotten from the hardware store ages ago chugged and clunked away to keep the trailer just on the side of cool enough to wear clothes.

They were sounds of summer, not fall, and most certainly not Halloween. But it was an unseasonably, disgustingly hot week, and it did nothing to help Eddie get into a chilling, haunted mindset as he planned a special one-off campaign for Hellfire on the 31st.

His repeat senior year hadn’t started off too well. The teachers were unforgiving, the students unkind. But he had promised Wayne he would try.

Things like the band and Hellfire certainly made it bearable.

You made it bearable.

You’d been working a lot of nights lately, but still made time for him and promised him special incentives and treats if he did well in school.

If he showed up on time for a week, you could have a sleepover at your apartment. Pass a test with a grade above a C, you’d tell him a secret.

He hadn’t gotten quite so good of a grade on a test yet but he had written a killer essay in English and he had negotiated your participation in Hellfire for Halloween, since the roster was slightly lacking this year. It hadn’t even taken much negotiation, really; you were just as excited to learn everything about him as he was about you.

So you’d spent a lazy Sunday afternoon with him as he explained the mechanics of the game and helped you create a character.

“…I forgot to mention if you do pick a rogue, you have proficiency in de—what’re you looking at now?”

He’d paused his lesson to grab some drinks, and when he returned, you were frozen in place, staring intently at a page in his players guide, brow furrowed. One of your hands clutched the book tightly, and the other touched the words on the page almost reverently.

He set your sodas on the nightstand and then glanced over at the book.

“Ah, we hadn’t gotten there yet,” he laughed and flopped down on the bed. “Tsk, tsk, reading ahead. But don’t worry, paladins are really cool. They pledge an oath to a deity—devote their whole lives—and then get this…divine ability so long as they uphold it. They can heal or even smite—”

You slammed the book shut at that and Eddie jumped in shock. You refused to look at him for a moment, rubbing your hands over the cover of the book in contemplation, before you looked up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I think I’ll be a rogue,” you nodded. “That sounded really cool.”

“A-are you sure?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat and sank down into his pillows. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, nuzzled him slightly, and shoved the book back into his hands. “So what else do I need to play?”

November 1984

Eddie woke abruptly to frantic banging on the front door of the trailer.

It had been raining when he went to bed, which usually helped him sleep. At first he thought the storm had just gotten stronger. 

Until he heard your voice.

You had abandoned the front door in favor of the side door near his bedroom. You tripped over the bowl he left for the stray cats and swore viciously. He chuckled tiredly until the banging started again and his heart seized in his chest.

You weren’t knocking. Your hands were practically slapping at the door.

“Please, God, please, please.” He could hear you muttering desperately.

He kicked the soft comforter off and pushed himself out of bed to get to you. As soon as the door was open you crashed into his chest, your arms wound around his waist, and you sobbed. Great, broken sobs that made his heart break.

He was about to put his arms around you, to soothe you and ask you what was wrong, when he smelled it.

Smoke. Fire. Acrid and cloying, engulfing you.

He looked down and was shocked. You were filthy; covered in dirt and soot and muck. The edges of your clothes and the ends of your hair were singed. You were visibly shaking.

"W-what happened?" Eddie asked frantically, prying your arms from around him, trying to see if you were hurt. He froze at the sight of blood caked on your hands and wrists. His stomach churned when he noticed the streaky stains it left below your nostrils. "Are you ok? Are you hurt? What happened?"

You simply shook your head and collapsed back against him.

He couldn't help the fear that overtook him, but he stayed strong as he pulled you into the trailer. As he got you into the shower and washed...whatever happened off of you. There were no cuts or burns or bruises. He tried to ask again, once you had calmed down enough that the tears fell silently and the only sounds you made were an occasional hiccup.

The next morning you were fine. You told him there was an accident at Bradley's. But there was no report on the news or in the paper. The building was fully intact. All of the staff were present and happily employed. You had no problem going back to work; in fact, you did so with a smile on your face.

Eddie never asked.

Because he knew you had secrets.

You never told him.

Because he never got a better grade than a C.

A month after that night, though, Hawkins National Laboratory was shut down and abandoned.

January 1985

"...can't I have anything for myself. It's unfair." Your muffled voice pierced through his dreams and pulled him into awareness.

He had been a light sleeper after that night in November, especially when you stayed over. You muttered in your sleep sometimes; it would wake him. You'd shift just far enough away; that would wake him too.

You had never had a full-on conversation before, though.

"Sins of the father, and sins of his father before that. Blah blah."

He blinked the bleariness from his eyes and watched as you paced at the foot of his bed. You wore nothing but your necklace. The cross swung wildly as your arms gestured and when you turned on your heel to continue your endless back and forth. Your voice was hushed.

It was half of an argument with an unseen adversary.

“I need a break…I know I haven’t been at this for long, but I’m sick and tired of it already.”

He vaguely wondered if you were hallucinating. A bad high. You’d always been reluctant to smoke with him but he had insisted tonight. After tangled limbs and quiet declarations in the sanctuary of his bedroom. Words of worship whispered to one another. The buzz beneath his skin had felt foreign and he figured the weed could mellow it out.

Maybe it had the opposite effect on you.

But then Eddie felt it.

As awareness settled over him, he felt an unseen, suffocating presence. It felt like the days where the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, only this time...the weight of the entire universe, every atom and every molecule, every moment--past, present, and future--existed all at once in his small bedroom and crushed him flat on his bed.

You continued on your one-sided rant and he didn’t know how you managed to move so freely when he felt so trapped, pinned in place by the weight of it. He tried to get your attention but he couldn't move, couldn't breath.

In the corner of his eye he swore he could see it. Blazing fire and wings and eyes.

He gasped and looked but saw nothing there. Still, the suffocating weight closed in on him further, pressing and squeezing, crushing him. And fear gripped him tightly. He wrenched his eyes shut and for the first time, probably in his life, he prayed.

He begged for it to go away.

Because if it didn't. He was going to die.

The bed shifted with your weight as you crawled to him and as soon as your hands reached him, he could breathe again.

“Eddie, oh my god please, are you ok?” You asked frantically, cupping his face in your hands. “Please say something.”

He gasped for air and sat up, clutching your hands to his face. You were his lifeline, his savior.

He closed his eyes and a million thoughts raced through his mind.What the fuck was that? Are you ok? Maybe he had a bad high, not you? Was it a nightmare? What the fuck was that?

February 1985

Your goodbye was expected. But that didn't mean it didn't cut him straight to his core.

You had been waiting for him one Friday night after Hellfire; he had driven the guys home only to find you waiting outside the trailer. Your car was packed with your belongings, similar to the way it had been the night you had stumbled into Hawkins.

He felt like vomiting as soon as he saw you.

You fed him some story about a sick, dying grandmother. How your mother had left a message on your answering machine begging you to come back home.

"She needs me," you told him.

"I need you," he replied desperately.

You couldn't do much more than shake your head and break down in tears.

"I'll come back," you promised. "It won't be long. Just wait for me."

In hindsight, he wished he had screamed and cried and begged you to stay. He wished that he had offered to go with you. Chicago wasn't that far. Wayne would have been mad, but then...Eddie would still have you.

Eddie was a good liar, though. He could fool anyone if he tried hard enough. He could even lie to himself.

He smiled and nodded and pretended to understand.

"Sure," he agreed. "I'll wait."

Your eyes started watering and you pulled him into the tightest hug. He wrapped his arms around you numbly, and as he did, he vaguely remembered some bullshit myth--

How humans were created...conjoined together. 4 arms, 4 legs, a head with two faces...but the Gods feared their power, split them in two. Condemned them to spend their lives apart.

--And he wished that he had some sort of secret, divine power to meld himself back together with you. Because surely, you belonged there with him. And if he concentrated on squeezing you just right, you would simply fuse together and you would never be apart again.

Life didn't work that way though.

You reluctantly pulled away from him and pressed a wet kiss to his lips.

Before you got in the car to drive away forever, you took off your necklace and pressed the cross into his hand. It practically burned.

"Don't lose that," you told him. "I'll be back for it."

He closed his fist around it and nodded, unable to trust himself with words.

He watched as you drove away, stayed standing outside until he couldn't see your tail lights anymore.

He let himself in the trailer, glad that Wayne was still at work--

You'd be back. You promised. You loved him. He loved you. You told him almost everything. You brought him hope. And care. And you made him feel complete. You'd be back.

--as he threw your necklace into the furthest corner of the room.

As he screamed in agony.

“Life moves very fast. It can go from Heaven to Hell in a matter of seconds.”

—Eleven Minutes, Paulo Coelho (2003)

[ginnyw-potter]

Family traits Written for @hinnymicrofic, November prompt 5: funny

Harry didn’t like to speak in front of a crowd, but it was much easier when he got to talk about his wife, on his wedding day.

He turned to her. “One of the things I love about my wife”—He beamed at her—“Wow, I can’t believe I can say that now.” He restarted his sentence. “One thing I love about my wife is her great sense of humour.” He glanced at George. “But being funny is a family trait.”

George lifted his glass, grinning. “If you find a sense of humour sexy, I can come and give you a kiss.”

Harry stalled for a moment but quickly recovered. “I’ll confer with Angelina, after my speech.” He looked back over to Ginny.

She was shaking her head laughing. “Please don’t.”

“Sorry, George,” he said. “Hate to disappoint.” He waited for the chuckles to die down. “As I was saying… It’s a family trait and I think their sense of humour is one of the reasons I have always felt so welcome here. They are just a warm and welcoming family.” He looked over at Molly, who was crying softly. “And though I know they have counted me as family for quite some time, I am glad it’s now official. I couldn’t have wished for any better.” He watched Ginny, predicting that the pretty blush on her cheeks was about to darken. “I did suggest taking Weasley as my last name. She insisted on taking my name however… Apparently she had promised her eleven-year-old self to be named Potter, which is…” he trailed off in favour of seeing her reaction.

She was several shades of red darker now, including her ears. “Oh, Merlin,” she muttered. “Ten-year-old,” she corrected him behind her hand quietly.

“I did not want to disappoint little Ginny either, if only because that Ginny has written the most wonderful poem I have ever received.”

Ginny’s eyes widened.

“Which we will now hear a rendition of by her brothers, who kindly volunteered for this part.”

“No!” She looked at him, begging.

“I am kidding,” he said. “Though they did volunteer, just so you know.”

She nodded. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Instead, I think I owe you a poem. I tried my best, and you’ll be allowed to score my efforts after…” He looked at her brothers. “And it will indeed be brought by your brothers.” As her brothers stood up, he turned to her. “You’re going to want to stand up for this one.” He pulled her up.

Her arms snaked around his waist as she waited in anticipation, and perhaps mixed with a bit of worry in her eyes, for her brothers to begin performing the poem. He turned to her, eagerly watching her reaction.

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 18)

WARNING: Miscarriage, blood

Just a small note ahead of time, because I know that miscarriages are a sensitive subject. They are so common, and it’s something I wanted to touch upon, because they’re often ignored in media despite that. Becoming a mother isn’t always immediate, or easy for that matter, and I feel it’s important to acknowledge that. This is especially true in the GOT universe where it likely would’ve happened much more often. However, given that it is sensitive, please do not feel compelled to read this chapter if you think it will in any way, shape, or form be triggering for you. You will still be able to read the next chapter without any confusion if you decide to skip this one, so please keep that in mind. —————

“So you’re the high sparrow then?”

The man sitting before me in the cells was absolutely filthy, and if I was honest, did not appear to be much of a leader. 

“That is what they call me, yes,” he said, giving a gentle smile. I nodded, glancing at Ser Elias and motioning for him to wait outside the door while I spoke to the man. 

“Based on your dress, I’m going to assume that you’re (Y/N) Tyrell,” he said, watching me sit down on a small stool that I’d brought with me. I normally wouldn’t have cared, but Tywin had gifted me this dress, and I didn’t want to ruin it. 

“And why couldn’t I be Margaery?” I questioned, crossing my legs and placing my hands in my lap. 

“The dress is cream with red roses and gold details,” he observed, making me raise an eyebrow.

“Yes it is, why does that matter?” 

“I should think you of all people would be familiar with the rumors that you and Tywin Lannister are romantically involved,” he said with a slight laugh, causing me to be slightly irritated. I decided it was best to ignore him. 

“The reason I’m here, your holiness, is because I’m curious. What kind of man creates a group willing to parade people through the streets naked?” I questioned, leaning forward as I looked down at him. 

“A reasonable one, I’d like to think.”

“Or one who craves power given to him through fear.”

“Fear?”

“Forcing someone who indulges and commits what you believe to be ‘sins’ to walk the city naked creates fear,” I said, watching him smile and shake his head. 

“It is not to create any sort of fear, Lady (Y/N). It is to repent for the sin,” he tried to excuse, making me scoff at the man’s sheer audacity.

“If you truly believed in repentance, I should think you would try to help people find a better lifestyle naturally, by removing that action from their life. Not by humiliating them,” I replied, watching him think of a reply.

“It is how the gods made us.”

“And yet even you do not walk naked, high sparrow. Whether you believe it or not, your motive is to inspire fear.”

“You disapprove quite adamantly. I wonder if there’s a reason for that,” he said suggestively, implying that perhaps I only disliked it because I was afraid of being forced to do it myself. I began to laugh.

“No, no, it’s not that. The last thing parading me naked would do is inspire fear. The reason I disapprove is because I feel it fundamentally goes against morality. If the gods are so just, why don’t you trust them to punish those that deserve it in their own time?” I questioned, wondering if perhaps behind all the nonsense there was a sliver of reason. 

“We merely try to help them find a better path sooner rather than later.”

“And who are you to determine what that better path is? Plenty of ‘sinners’ lead much better lives, much kinder lives than those who claim to be devout and religious,” I said with a scoff, knowing that faith and opinion often became one.

“You’re correct, I won’t deny it. But there are also all those in between.”

“Care to list any examples, your holiness?”

“Homosexuality, for example. It is an insult to the way the gods made us,” he said rather quickly, picking up on the way my eye twitched. I was certain he knew that targeting Loras was inevitably going to rile me up. 

“The way the gods made us? If they hadn’t wanted it, they wouldn’t even have given us the thought. Unless you would admit that the gods make mistakes, then they’ve created many of us with different preferences than others.”

“A preference? No. It is a disease, my lady. One we must root out.”

“I cannot say I agree, high sparrow. If you asked every man alive who his ideal woman was, very few would give the same answer. In that sense, there are some men who would not like a woman at all. I’ve had this discussion before with another, though it was not so tedious as this.”

The high sparrow scoffed and shook his head, smiling to himself.

“Well, even if homosexuality weren’t a sin, intercourse out of marriage most certainly is. That is why the high septon was punished, as he of all people should know that,” he claimed, hands folded in his lap. It was an odd stance, and quite calm for a man who would get his head cut off in less than an hour. 

“The high septon was in a brothel. If you beat and stripped every man in the city who’d ever gone to a brothel or had intercourse out of marriage there wouldn’t be a single person with clothes on,” I said, beginning to laugh. 

“And that includes Tywin Lannister, doesn’t it?” He asked with a grin, trying to find a weakness perhaps. No, I would not let him use it against me. 

“Yes, it certainly does. I’m not going to deny it, Lord Tywin and I have been sleeping together for quite some time now. I don’t regret it, and I don’t believe it’s a sin,” I said simply, watching the man’s face twist in surprise.

“You don’t believe it’s a sin?”

“No, why would it be? As you said, the gods gave us our bodies, and with them they gave us pleasure,” I said with a smile, finding it ridiculous that so many people often made such a fuss about sex as if it wasn’t something all of us enjoyed.

“The purpose of it is to show our loyalty and devotion to them by resisting the urge until marriage,” he replied, somewhat annoyed by my perspective.

“We show our loyalty and devotion by praying and building great septs and grand churches. What kind of ‘just’ gods would purposely give us something to fail at? I think we ought to enjoy the lives they’ve given us and do our best to be good people,” I explained, wondering if he could at least agree with the last sentiment. 

“You are at least correct in that. It’s important to love everyone around you equally, even those that might be deemed as ‘below’ you,” he remarked with a gentle grin. I knew what he was suggesting, however.

“I know you believe all nobles to be selfish and unaware, and I won’t deny that most of us certainly are. I won’t even deny that I myself have recoiled at the poor. This doesn’t mean that I don’t care for them, though. What I do politically is, after my own family’s benefit, for the realm. Why do you think I ended the war with Robb Stark? We easily could’ve crushed him, yet I met with him because I knew it would restore general peace and allow thousands of men to return home to their families. I’ve also been ensuring that the Tyrell lands feed this city, lest you forget,” I told him, not liking to be accused falsely. I would own up for my flaws, but I would not accept lies. 

“You manage those funds? Not your grandmother or father?” He questioned, raising a skeptical eyebrow. 

“I’ve begun to, yes. Once my father is dead, I’m to show Loras how to do it. My grandmother would prefer I handle things until that day comes, however,” I said, watching him nod.

“Quite impressive of you. The Nightshade of the Garden is very well rounded, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is. Thank you for speaking with me, high sparrow. It has been interesting to speak with you,” I said, feeling quite done with the man. 

“Of course, Lady (Y/N). Seven blessings to you.”

“And to you. I hope you’ll give the gods my regard,” I said with a slight smile. It was both sarcastic and genuine, somehow. 

He gave me a nod, and I left the cell slightly irked. There was something strange about the man, as he made such repulsive and unfortunate remarks so calmly and happily. I had no doubt in my mind that my family would’ve been targeted had Tywin not had him arrested so immediately, and suddenly I was glad that he had done so. 

Seven blessings to the high sparrow, indeed.

—————

Tywin had been right, the people of king's landing had cheered when the high sparrow’s head detached from his body. 

The end of his short reign, if one should even call it that. I was glad it hadn’t grown into anything serious, and I was glad Tywin had handled it effectively. 

So long as it kept my siblings safe, I didn’t care what it took. And speaking of which, I was currently on my way to go see Margaery. 

I’d had dinner with her upon my return, but it had been more than a week since then, and now that I’d had the stitches taken out of my wound I was a bit more free to move around. 

Ser Elias had offered to escort me, but I was certain it was fine. I was grateful I had kept the cane from about a year and a half ago.

Gods, had it really been that long since the battle of Blackwater?

I reached Margaery’s room, knocking on the door. There was no response, and I found it rather odd. She always came back to her room after lunch. 

I reached for the door handle, and finding that it was open, I slowly pushed it open. 

I found her laying on her bed, eyes shut but breathing fast enough that I could tell she was awake.

“Are you alright, Margaery?” I asked, closing the door behind me. She opened her eyes and sighed.

“I’ve been feeling somewhat ill all day. I was hoping to get a bit of sleep, but I haven’t been able to,” she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. 

I nodded, sitting down in one of the chairs by her table. 

“What are you feeling?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t anything serious. An odd look passed over her face, almost as if she herself was trying to figure something out.

“I’m a bit tired and nauseous. There’s pain in my lower back, too, but I imagine I just slept oddly,” she reasoned, which made decent enough sense to me. 

“Well, I hope it goes away,” I said, pouring myself a glass of wine. She nodded and sighed again, clearly uncomfortable. 

“The high sparrow was beheaded this morning, wasn’t he?” She questioned, looking over at me as I looked around the room. It felt messier than usual. 

“Yes, he was. I spoke with him beforehand, too. He was quite opinionated, even if there was certainly a lack of logic in it,” I said with a soft laugh, making Margaery shake her head.

“People like that always make me so nervous. They can’t be convinced no matter what you tell them,” she said with a scoff. 

“No, they certainly can’t. He and I certainly had quite the debate,” I told her, fidgeting with part of my dress. Margaery inhaled sharply, looking as if she might throw up, but then returned to normal a few moments later.

“Apologies, what did you two debate?” She asked, coming back to herself again. 

“He tried to prod about homosexuality, which of course was a dig at Loras. I didn’t let that stand, however, so his next insult was about sex out of marriage. He seemed to think that Lord Tywin and I were having intimate relations too,” I said, making Margaery laugh softly.

“The gods always know the truth, (Y/N). I don’t know why you still deny it.”

“It’s not the truth. Gods forbid the people of King's Landing see a man and a woman interact with each other in a way that isn’t romantic,” I pretended, knowing damn well the people of King's Landing had been correct about Tywin and I before we even knew it. 

“Of course, that’s what it is, you-“ Margaery smiled and began to tease, but suddenly ceased to speak, and I watched her press her hands into her abdomen.

“Margaery?” I asked, rising from my chair and moving over to her. She didn’t look well. She gripped onto my arm then, and I reached under her.

“Let’s get you to a maester, hm? I’m certain it’s nothing,” I said, trying to reassure her. She nodded, and I helped her up. 

We made it halfway across the room, and then I felt the strength fade from her arms. She fell to the floor, one hand clutching the cold stone and the other on her stomach.

“(Y/N)… h-help,” she gasped out, making my eyes widened. I had no idea what was happening, let alone what to do. 

I got down beside her, placing a hand on her back and trying to figure out what was going on.

“What hurts, Margaery? Where?” I questioned, watching as she clutched her lower stomach and began to cry. 

“Are you menstruating? You get quite bad cramps sometimes,” I reasoned, recalling all the times the maesters had given her milk of the poppy growing up. 

“N-No, I’m not,” she said quietly, still trying to handle all the pain.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes! I’m pregnant,” she gasped out, making my eyes go wide.

Pregnant?

Who was I kidding, of course she was pregnant. I knew my grandmother had given her a talk about striking quickly and cementing herself as queen, but I just… I didn’t quite expect it. 

Nothing ever could have prepared me to see my sister get married and have kids. In my head she was always just my younger sister, someone to protect and comfort. It was easy to forget that she was advancing in her life much faster than I was.

With all that aside, though, I wracked my brain trying to figure out what could be happening if it wasn’t menstrual cramps.  

Just then, I saw blood begin to emerge from under her skirt, and it all clicked in my head.

Oh gods. 

When I looked over at Margaery, she had a numb look on her face for a moment, and then she began to sob. 

“Y-(Y/N)… help, help me. My baby… my baby,” she cried out, still desperately holding her abdomen. I was beginning to panic, I had not a single clue what to do when a woman was having a miscarriage. 

“I need to get a maester, Margaery. I’m going to get a maester,” I whispered, and she shook her head vehemently.

“No! N-No… I don’t want people to know… they can’t know,” she sobbed. My heart broke. I didn’t want to imagine what kind of gossip would circulate if people were to find out. 

“Well I need to go get someone… I need to find someone. My chambermaid, she’ll know… she’ll know what to do,” I said, trying to reassure myself just as much as I was trying to reassure Margaery. 

“Stay… stay, please,” Margaery cried, holding onto me. I pressed her face into my chest as she wept, and I tried to rock her back and forth. I was still shaking.

“I’m so sorry, Margaery, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, wishing I could’ve known sooner. Maybe there was something we could’ve done. Deep down I knew the answer to that, though. 

All she could do was sob into my arms, and I found myself petting her hair. My sister was having a miscarriage and there was nothing I could do to stop it. 

My, the gods were so cruel. 

I felt my heart sink. Was this my punishment for challenging the high sparrow? 

I buried my face in Margaery’s hair, kissing her head and trying to soothe her as her sobs grew louder. 

I was trying to create a plan. I needed to find Cerella, she would know how to help Margaery physically and make certain nothing else was wrong. 

But I also needed to clean up all the blood from the floor, and I had no idea where to start. 

“Margaery, can you stand? I want to get you to the bed, sweetie,” I whispered, wrapping my arms all the way around her. Slowly, I helped her rise, grabbing at her skirts so they wouldn’t get even bloodier than they already were. The pain in my thigh was horrible, but I ignored it completely. There were more important matters now. 

I helped her to lay down on the bed, letting her clutch a pillow for comfort. I then ran to the door, opening it just enough to stick my head out. 

Instantly, I found two maids chatting with each other as they walked about the halls.

“Ladies! I need urgent help, please. Can one of you find Cerella and the other fetch a bucket of water? It truly is an emergency. Please tell Cerella to bring medicine,” I said, to which they instantly nodded and ran off in a hurry. I sighed out as I closed the door again, searching the room and finding a few towels that I could use to clean once everything else was dealt with. 

I made my way over to Margaery again, sitting beside her on the bed. She sat up, embracing me and crying into my shoulder. 

“I am so sorry, Margaery. I’m so, so sorry. I wish I could take the pain for you,” I muttered, truly wishing she didn’t have to go through this.

“I know, (Y/N), I know,” she whispered, still shaking in my arms. Or perhaps we were both shaking, it was hard to tell. 

Just then, the door opened behind us and I found Cerella coming in with both a bucket of water and a small bag. She instantly saw the blood on the floor and saw Margaery crying into my arms, making her close the door rather quickly. 

She set the water down, rushing over to us.

“What happened?” She asked softly, looking Margaery over but not spotting any obvious wound. 

I motioned for her to lean down, and subtly explained what had happened. She nodded sympathetically.

“There’s nothing we can do, Lady Margaery, but I can give you milk of the poppy for the pain and perhaps essence of nightshade to help you sleep,” Cerella offered, to which Margaery nodded and sniffled.

Cerella poured out the dosages and gave them to her, watching as I continued to pet Margaery’s hair until she fell asleep. 

When we were certain she was no longer conscious, I went into her wardrobe and brought out her sleeping gown, carefully putting her into it with Cerella’s help. Afterwards, took her bloodied dress and sighed.

“Burn the dress, Cerella. That much blood won’t come out, and I don’t want to leave any evidence behind. Do it now, I’ll tend to the floor myself,” I said, watching her swallow and nod.

“If you need assistance with anything else, my lady, please let me know.”

“I will, thank you very much for helping my sister. She didn’t want a maester, she was worried people would find out,” I explained, leaning down and kissing my sister's forehead as I tucked her under the covers.

“I understand, my lady. I’ll go burn the dress now,” she said, excusing herself once I’d nodded and leaving me alone with Margaery. 

When she was gone, I began to cry. I’d spent a lifetime attempting to bring joy and comfort into my siblings' lives just to realize that there was nothing I could do to prevent them from trauma and pain was a startling thought. I could not protect Loras from marriage, I could not protect Margaery from this. 

I wanted more than anything to take this pain away from Margaery, and I realized then I ought to send a raven to Highgarden. It would be beneficial for my grandmother to be here, as Margaery relied on her more than anyone. 

Plus, I would not be able to give her the comfort and help necessary due to my constant involvement in politics and such. Yes, I would send for my grandmother.

With a sigh, I made my way across the room, grabbing the towels I’d set aside and getting down on my knees. First, I soaked up the blood on the floor, knowing if I used water first it would cause an even bigger mess.

There was so much blood I could not comprehend it, and I had to close my eyes and bite my lip to keep myself from sobbing too loudly. I continued to cry as I cleaned it up, feeling such a distinct pain in knowing I’d been unable to ensure my siblings’ happiness. 

In my own way, I also grieved the lost child. I’d always imagined myself doing quite well with Loras or Margaery’s children, and if I’d known she was pregnant in any other circumstance I would’ve been overjoyed.

I found myself disassociating as I finished wiping the blood away, and my hands were shaking without my consciousness. The blood had stained the tile, and I let some of the water pour onto the floor, using a new towel to now clean the tile. 

It took more than an hour to remove the blood completely, and I felt exhausted when I had finished. Thankfully, Margaery had slept through the whole thing, and Cerella had come back to check on us.

“Is there anything else you need help with? I can take the bucket and burn the towels too,” she offered, to which I nodded and sighed, sitting down and rubbing my sore knees. I drank my wine with a tremor in my hand, hoping to numb myself a bit further. 

“I’d like to have new flowers brought in. Bright ones. And perhaps summon Ser Elias, I’d like to rearrange some of the furniture. I want to alter the room so that she won’t think of it every time she’s in here,” I said, to which Cerella nodded and instantly set off with the towels and bucket. 

I remained in the room for the rest of the day, and when Margaery had woken later in the afternoon, the furniture had already been fixed and flowers had already been added. Though she cried, I could tell she was grateful. 

I helped her drink and eat, though it was not very much. Either way, I took it upon myself to help her through this however I could. 

When it grew late, I stayed in her room and slept beside her in her own bed. I suspected Tywin would question where I was tomorrow, but that was a matter I would handle then and not now.

Now, the only thing that mattered to me was my sister, fast asleep in my arms, just as she had been when we were children and she’d had nightmares. 

Though, I wished it had been a nightmare. I wished I could wake her and tell her all was well. 

But no, the gods had not been so kind. It seemed they never were.

—————

I’d returned to my room late in the morning, having already written to my grandmother and helped Margaery get dressed. She went to the gardens with Ser Elias, and I couldn’t blame her for wanting to get out of the room and into the fresh air. 

I spent the majority of the day reading and trying to blur out what had happened. Every time I lost my train of thought, the image came back and I forced myself to keep going.

By the time the sun had set, I’d finished the book I hadn’t been able to complete for weeks now. It was with a reluctant sigh that I had called upon Cerella to draw a bath for me.

More than anything, I was just enjoying the warm water and trying to clear my head. Cerella had offered to stay and help me bathe, but I told her I’d do it all myself. 

Of course, the second I got into the bath, there was a knock upon the door. 

“Lady (Y/N)?”

The voice was unmistakably Tywin’s, and I smiled as I settled into the water.

“Enter!”

The door opened and then closed, and I watched him step into the room and look around. He gave me a gentle smile when he saw me in the bathtub. Without a word, I watched him remove his coat and his ascot, coming to sit on the floor beside the tub.

“I can wash your hair, if you’d like,” he offered, lifting the hand I was resting on the side of the tub to his lips. 

“That would be very nice, Tywin. Thank you,” I said softly, leaning my head back a bit as he rolled up his sleeves and got to work wetting my hair. 

“I used to do this for Joanna. I did it quite a lot, actually. She always had such long hair, it was hard for her to do it herself,” he revealed, adding in the soap to my hair. 

“And why not have her chambermaids do it? Surely that would’ve been more proper,” I questioned, teasing slightly but also curious. 

“A man ought to be able to care for his wife. Or his lover,” he remarked, adding more water to my hair and massaging my scalp a bit. It felt good, and it helped relieve the headache I’d had practically for two days now. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here last night, I was with Margaery. She was rather sentimental, I think she may be missing our grandmother,” I said after a moment, certain he was going to ask about it. It was a lie, and for once I felt it sounded like one. 

“It’s quite fine. What did you two discuss?” He asked. Yes, he seemed to think it was a lie as well. 

“We… we discussed-“

“You’re lying. I know you were with Margaery, our chambermaid told me that much. But you’re lying, I can tell,” he noted, finished with my hair and now merely sitting beside me. 

“Your head is probably jumping to hurtful conclusions, but it wasn’t anything like that. I’m not avoiding you, or speaking poorly of you. I just- I promised Margaery I wouldn’t speak of it to anyone,” I said, slowly washing my skin. I did not miss the look over Tywin was giving me. 

“If you’re concerned with rumors spreading, you have my word. I trust you more than any of my own children, (Y/N). You know that,” he said, reaching for my towel and wrapping me in it as I stood up. 

“I’m aware of that, and it’s not a matter of trust. I trust you with nearly all of my secrets, Tywin, you know that. But the reason I was with Margaery yesterday isn’t for me to share with you,” I said, making him raise an eyebrow.

“Nearly all of your secrets?”

“Well, a woman must stay somewhat mysterious. There are things you know that not even my family does,” I admitted, watching his curiosity be piqued. 

“Such as?”

“My family’s never heard me sing before,” I said, which was truthful. I feared it might ruin my reputation.

“You told me you sang with Jaime’s man when the three of you were in Dorne,” he said, clearly a bit jealous. I laughed softly.

“He had a good voice, why shouldn’t I? You know me better than anyone else, Tywin. That’s the point I’m making,” I assured him, slipping into my undergarments and then into my nightgown. 

“I will take your word for it. Just know, if you do want to discuss whatever happened yesterday, I’m all ears,” he said while removing his boots. I was glad he’d be staying tonight, I felt I needed it.

“Well, rest assured I won’t be telling you about it any time-“ my voice trailed off as I looked down.

I began to cry. 

Tywin was instantly by my side when he realized, trying to figure out what was happening.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” 

After a moment, he noticed the blood coming through my undergarments and relaxed a bit. My monthly had come, and though to him it appeared normal, it felt like very bad timing considering what had just happened.

“It’s your monthly, isn’t it? No need to cry over that,” he said, searching my drawers for fresh undergarments. When I continued to cry, he looked back over.

“It is your monthly, isn’t it?” He asked. There was a hint of fear in his voice, and I realized then he was considering the possibility that I was having a miscarriage. 

“It’s my monthly, don’t- don’t worry,” I choked out, sitting down on the ottoman and sobbing into my hands. He sat down beside me, hand on my back. 

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)? Please tell me,” he whispered, cupping my cheek so I would look at him. I buried my head into his shoulder, still feeling overwhelmed. 

“Margaery had a- a miscarriage yesterday. I s-shouldn’t be telling you that, but I can’t stop thinking about it,” I cried, feeling his arms wrap around me as he held me close. 

“Oh sweet girl. My condolences to both of you, it’s not easy to overcome,” he said softly, petting my hair. 

“It happened while I was with her, Tywin. I’d initially gone over just to talk with her, and then- and then her pain got worse and she began to bleed. And maybe if I’d- if I’d figured it out quicker or acted faster she wouldn’t have… she wouldn’t have…” I couldn’t finish my sentence, I was crying too much at this point. I felt a deep guilt about what had happened, as if I should’ve been able to prevent the event.

“(Y/N), it’s not your fault. The gods take children from us the same way we pick flowers from bushes. At that point, there was nothing you could’ve done,” he reassured me, placing a kiss on my head.

“I just- I feel as though I’ve failed her. My entire life- my entire life, I’ve dedicated myself to protecting my siblings, to keeping them safe and happy. I just- I hate knowing that there are things I can’t protect them from anymore,” I expressed, still crying as he held me. 

“I know, sweet girl. Trust me, I know, and I’m sorry,” he muttered, rocking me gently. 

“I wish I could take the pain for her, physically and emotionally. I wish I could take all my siblings' burdens for them,” I said softly, truly wanting to do so. 

“Margaery will obviously need time to recover, but she’s as capable as you are. I feel confident that she will come back just as you do, resiliently and even stronger,” he assured me, cupping my face in both of his hands. 

I nodded, letting him wipe my tears and kiss me sweetly. 

“Did Tommen know she was pregnant?” I asked softly, not sure what the situation was.

“I don’t believe anyone did, otherwise announcements would’ve been made and I certainly would’ve known. I won’t tell him, if Margaery wishes to I’ll let her do it,” he said, knowing why I was asking. It wouldn’t have been logical to not tell him first if he’d already known, but if he hadn’t known to begin with, then I suspected Margaery would want to keep it to herself. 

“I don’t want people to find out. Ever.”

“I understand, (Y/N). Now here, change so we can go to sleep,” he said, handing me the clean undergarments. I nodded, changing and preparing them as needed so I wouldn’t bleed through. Tywin removed his boots and shirt as I did, I was met with a pleasant surprise upon turning around. 

“You’re so handsome, Tywin,” I whispered, stepping toward him and kissing his forehead. His hands came to my hips, and he leaned into me for a moment. After that, I felt him pick me up, and I squealed slightly as he carried me to bed, setting me down with a gentle smile. 

I watched carefully as he made his way around the room, extinguishing most of the candles before coming to bed and finally removing his pants. Now only in his undergarments, he joined me under the covers and pulled my back into his chest.. 

“You’re a wonderful sister, (Y/N), never forget that. You’ve always defended your family more passionately than anything else, so don’t blame yourself for what’s happened,” he whispered, nuzzling into my neck. 

“And who should I blame then?” I questioned. For a moment, he was silent. 

“Blame a god we do not follow in Westeros.”

I nodded, aware of the many faced god that had a decent following in Essos. I couldn’t blame them, for it was a fact that death was inevitable. Or, as they liked to say: Valar Morghulis

All men must die.

As I felt Tywin shift behind me, my heart sank. Could the many faced god take another god? Or, a god among men, it seemed. 

Yes, he certainly could. Though, whenever he decided to do it, he would receive two souls, not just one. I would make sure of that when the day came.

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[michelle-is-writing]

Relax, Donny Donowitz

I tried my best with German in this imagine as I know a little (just basics), so if there are any corrections that need to be made, please message me! Thank you!

Warning: violence, Nazis, death, brutality with a bat, gunfire, ending is a bit NSFW 

Word count: 2.1k~

For a week, the basterds had nothing to do. The very person they were trying to find had seemingly gone on holiday, and no information on where he had travelled to was available to us. As soon as he left, it seemed as if the world itself had calmed down. The men were finally able to write and send out their letters to their mothers and loved ones at home while others were left to rest and catch up on what was going on in the world that didn't involve the ongoing war or guns.

Specifically, Donny enjoyed the first few days of freedom from his duties as we were all able to stay at a hostel for that week and rest. The hostel was run by a kind man who, come to find, also hated the current ongoing regime in his home country. Because of this, he was more than willing to help the basterds in our mission.

Donny and I both got to have breakfast with each other every morning, and later on, we had the ability to get lost in each other in nothing but the bed sheets and moonlight without the possibility of anyone walking in or complaining. In a way, we got to finally act like a normal couple for once in a very long time. It was just us to ourselves, and we weren't complaining.

However, on the fifth day of rest, Donny seemed tense, almost irritated. He woke up, sat at the breakfast table, and drank coffee with me while I jotted down status reports on the missions we completed. Being the Basterd's (I guess you could say) secretary, it was my job to do such things. I wrote down information about soldiers and their lives, mission statuses and details, and even small facts about the Basterds themselves. Being the fiancé of the infamous "Bear Jew," my job was mildly easy as my source of information was usually right beside me when given the chance.

For Donny, on the other hand, his work mostly entailed beating the enemies to a pulp with his bat in hand or just simply shooting them. It was a way for him to release any fury and anger he held, while at the same time, protect his country and everyone involved in it. The opposing side was always his target, and if he were to see any of them at any time, he would surely pull back on his trigger and release the fire held within him.

"Donny, what's the matter?" I ask him, looking up from my papers to stare at the handsome man in front of me. In his usual attire, he's hot, but when he's dressed in nothing but a simple pair of cotton pants, the matching button-up top thrown off long ago, he looks absolutely delectable.

"I work too much," he simply answers, staring down at his cup of coffee, not an ounce of sugar or cream in the dark liquid. "I'm so used ta missions and fighting that... I kinda forgot how ta relax," he adds on with a small laugh as he turns his attention to look at me.

Smiling, I ponder through my thoughts for a few seconds before standing from the table and walking over to him. As soon as I’m within arms length of Donny, he pulls me close and sits me in his lap where he immediately begins pressing feather-like kisses against the exposed skin of my arm while his rough hands dance across my bare thighs. Just like his shirt, my pants had been long forgotten about as well.

"What if we had some fun today?" I suggest, instantly receiving Donny's eager lips on my neck. Before he can fully begin in his actions, I stop him with my hand on his head and a smile on my lips. "Not that type of fun," I quickly reiterate, gaining a groan of protest from the man.

"What if we went to a field and played... baseball?" I ask him, looking down to see him with an eyebrow raised questionably.

"Baseball?" He repeats the word in a question-like voice. "I haven't played that since we were in Boston," A few seconds pass before he smiles. "Although, I guess it would fun playing with you."

Almost immediately, he stands from his chair with me still in his arms. I can't help but giggle and wrap my arms around his neck even tighter, just as he likes it. I have to enjoy these moments with Donny because I never know when I'll be able to repeat them, or if I’ll get them again. Sometimes, missions can draw on from one week to one month, and during that time, the feeling of loneliness is inevitable. When you're so used to someone's warm arms around you all the time, you can't help but yearn for that when they're away.

Getting dressed was a hassle with Donny trying to kiss me at any chance he got, but I guess it isn't any different from what he's been doing for the past few years. Before leaving, we gathered his bat (free of any enemy blood, of course) and a ball the hostel keeper had lying around. We then traveled out to a field not too far from the inn, no one else out in the field despite the sun being out and the weather pleasant. I wasn’t going to complain, however; that leaves it all to Donny and me to enjoy ourselves.

Smiling at the dark haired man, I pitch the ball to him which he skillfully hits, letting him score a home-run while I run to get the ball, ultimately running out of air as I run back. "Woo-hoo!" Donny shouts, victoriously throwing his arms in the air as he stands at the base. "Still got it, baby, yeah!"

"Oh, quiet down!" I tease him, hunching over to catch my breath as he quickly heads over to where I stand. Donny merely grins at my comment before I raise back up, still a bit out of breath. Placing my hands on my hips, I watch as Donny's smile turns into a focused frown, his eyes cast toward the forest behind me. Turning my head, I don't see anything, but my ears do catch something.

"Do you hear that?" Donny asks, receiving a nod back from me. Without a second thought, he takes my hand in his before walking toward that secluded part of the woods, not forgetting to grab his bat he dropped when he first hit the ball. Walking closer to the tall trees, I pick up more on what the noise is. It's people talking to each other in another language.

"Is that German?" Donny asks me, receiving another nod. Stopping beside a big pine, I try to listen in on the conversation. "Can you understand it?" He whispers.

"I think," I answer him. Aside from Hugo, I also serve as a translator to the Basterds for German having learned it in my youth. Leaning my head closer to sounds, I can hear the conversation more, but only bits and pieces.

"Zwei Leute,"

"Two people," I say the translation.

"Juden,"

"Jewish,"

"Feuer… Haus,"

"Fire... house,"

My eyes widening, I look back at Donny. "I think someone's talking about setting a house on fire," I tell him, his widening just like mine before he crawls through the forest with me beside him. Taking slow and quiet steps, we try to be as silent as possible as we soon find the owners of the voices. Sure enough, the two men sharing the conversation are decked out in Nazi attire, the bands on their arms giving them away immediately. As the two smoke cigars, they point out toward the part of the field that leads out to the civilian life. Looking around the rest of the woods, I don't see anyone else, and since the sun is bright out today, I'm pretty confident that the two are by themselves.

"When I say three, toss the ball in the air," Donny whispers, successfully avoiding gaining attention from the two enemies. Walking a few steps behind me, he swings his bat low to the ground as if he were readying it. "Stay there," He tells me, before counting down. "One... two... three," With the last number, emitting from his lips, he whistles loudly as I toss the ball into the air.

Right as both of the nazis turn to look at us, Donny swings his bat at the ball, successfully hitting the ball and making it fly into one of the Nazi's in the head. While the first nazi stumbles backward, now unconscious, the second one reaches for his gun, but he's too slow as Donny wastes no time in running up and hitting the man in the stomach before spinning and hitting him in the back of his head with the wooden instrument. Just like his fellow cretin, he falls to the ground as well, except in his case, his heart stops beating and body convulses in response to Donny's harsh hit.

Giving him one more hit on the ground, Donny moves on to the other man, turning him on his back so he can face him. Ripping the gun from the man's side, Donny tosses it over to me where I grab it and ready it, just in case. Donny then aggressively slaps the man repeatedly who wakes up on the fifth hit with a bloody nose.

"Wake up, sleepy head!" Donny taunts, the Bear Jew coming out in full force. The man holds his hands up to protect himself, making Donny laugh. "Give us your mission details, you piece of shit," Donny says to the man, only to receive a weird look. He must not speak English.

Walking up to the two, I get on the same level as Donny before holding the tip of the welrod to the man's neck, his eyes flashing in fear in response to a gun he stole being pressed against his neck. "Gib uns die stadtplan, oder wir schneiden deine kopf ab," I tell the man, speaking full German.

Eyes wide, the man shakily reaches down and takes out a piece of paper, but I can tell that isn't the map. Cocking the gun, I aim it toward his knee cap without looking and shoot, the only sound following being the man's cry of pain thanks to the gun's built-in silencer.

"Der echte eins," I demand, seeing Donny in the corner of my eye smirking.

"Kapitulation, kapitulation!" The man cries out, pulling another paper out of his jacket pocket. Yanking it from the man's grasp, I flip it open and see the familiar cities around Belgium, the Imperial Eagle stamped onto specific locations such as public buildings and flats.

"Thank you," I mutter, walking backward as I stare at the map more. Over the top of the page, my eyes catch Donny quickly break back into his badass persona before beating the nazi's face to a pulp with each brutal swing of his bat. Once he's done, he wipes the blood from his face and walks over to me where he peers down at the piece of paper in my hands.

"Can't bring you anywhere," I joke, handing him the map to look over. Smiling, I press a kiss against his lips, quickly receiving one back before he pulls me close to him. "Work just seems to follow you."

"You're the one who finds all'ar missions, baby," He responds, smirking as he kisses my cheek. "And it looks like you found the rest of 'em for all of Belgium," With the discovery, Donny seems happy and almost proud in a way. Looking back at the map with him, I find myself sighing a little. Our long weekend is over, but at the same time, the Basterds are closer to their victory, and Donny's got his mojo back.

“Just warn me next time you decide to shoot a man in front of me.” Donny’s voice breaks me away the map and over to him as he now stands behind me. I raise an eyebrow at him curiously, but he simply continues smirking before leaning his face into my neck and pressing his hips into mine, something hard and eager poking into my back. “Almost fucked you right here in the forest, babe,” I gasp, just in time for him to bite at my neck harshly. “You really have no fucking clue.”

Translations :

Gib uns die stadtplan, oder wir schneiden deine kopf ab,

Give us the map, or we rip your head off,

Der echte eins,

The real one,

Kapitulation, kapitulation!

Surrender, surrender!

Welrod: Welrod was a European gun made during the Second World War

[rainstops]

hi! it's friendsoup! this is my main ^^! just thought i'd pop in and give a request!

could you do hcs for the ddlc girls with a trans masc s/o who binds and gets misgendered a lot? super self indulgent ik :] have a happy holidays~!

ddlc headcannons

summary: how do the ddlc girls act with a reader who gets misgendered a lot?

a/n: HEY PAL!!!!! tysm for requesting, this was a little tough to write, but I enjoyed this sm and I immediately had some ideas! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! If I made any mistakes or said anything wrong, please let me know, I have never written anything with a trans reader before

also i wrote this in the middle of the night so my grammar is probably a little fucked

monika

sorry to tell u this but monika has not met a singular trans person before she met you

that does not mean she is not supportive! but she might not know a lot

so she reads every book she can find to learn how to help you!!

more utc

if she is around while someone misgenders you, she carefully lets them know what they did

what if your parents are not supportive?

believe me when I tell you that she will arrange a meeting with your parents to talk to them

if you’re okay with it of course

whatever struggle you’re going through, she will do everything in hee power to help you (or even beyond her power)

will always love you because this is a part of you

and as long as it’s you, she will try everything until you’re happy

sayori

Has witnessed you getting misgendered once and got super confused in a ‘wait those aren’t your pronouns’ way

you explained to her that some people misgendered you, most of them on accident

she is not entirely sure how to help you, scared that she’ll do something wrong

so she asks monika what to do when someone misgenders you in front of her

monika suggests to politely try and correct the person

sayori takes monikas advice, but she can only imagine how you feel after getting home and being misgendered a whole lot

she wishes she could do more than just correct people who misgender you

so she tries her best cheering you up with kisses, hugs, gifts, sweets, anything you can think of

she doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, so she will try her best to undo what has been done by others!

yuri

probably has met the most trans people out of all the four

and although yuri knows all the right things to say, she cant bring herself to confront someone who misgenders you right in the moment

so when she feels you tense up she quietly takes your hand in hers and gives it a light squeeze

probably will hold your hand until either the conversation is over or for the rest of the day

yuri is a very non confrontational person, wether or not she will talk to you about it later i will leave up to you

but its not like she entirely ignores how you get misgendered

but shes so scared to say something wrong, she prefers to comfort you more with hugs, a little like sayori

shes ur silent supporter and comforter

natsuki

"HIS PRONOUNS ARE HE/HIM!!!!"

thats literally her

will not hesitate a second to let someone know they misgendered you

im not kidding no one will never misgender you again after they met natsuki

i am convinced she tries to help you like this, because shes not really sure how to comfort you else

on especially bad days she probably hugs you and says 'im sorry'

but she really doesnt know how to comfort you over this

although she does have one way to cheer you up

after a bad day, she spends as much time as she can find making cupcakes for you

cupcakes are her love language after all

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Always There - Prologue : S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of death and murder, mentions of Azkaban

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

Author's Note: It's been a long ass time my friends, but I'm trying to make a come back here. I was a bit out of my comfort zone with this one so I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 629

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

Y/N Potter became an aunt in 1980 to a wonderful little boy named Harry. Her brother, James, had asked her to be the boy's godmother, as his best friend Sirius was named the boy's godfather. She of course accepted this honor, not knowing that a year later, the boy would be hers to take care of.

The night of Lily and James Potter’s death, as well as Lord Voldemort, Y/N was left by some of the most important people in her life. Peter had died, murdered by a supposed friend, Sirius Black, who was thrown in Azkaban after killing Peter and a dozen muggles. And then there was Remus, who had just left without a word, no note, no letter, just left. Remus was like another brother to Y/N, they had become friends before James and Remus became friends. So when he left without a trace, she was quite upset, she had just lost her brother and sister-in-law, one of their friends, another getting locked up and she was all alone with a baby that she didn’t know how to care for.

That was until she had run into Severus Snape at the late Potters’ grave not even a week later. He was leaving a fresh lily on the stone as she walked into the cemetery. They sat and talked for over an hour until Harry began whining to eat. This became a routine for the two adults. Eventually Severus began to help Y/N take care of Harry and herself, getting the Potter girl a job at Hogwarts with Professor Sprout after remembering that Herbology was her favorite subject. He helped her around the house and the two became unlikely friends. 

By the time Harry had reached 11, Y/N was offered the position as Herbology professor after Sprout had retired. She of course accepted the position, the first person other than Harry being told was Severus. She had gotten the job thanks to not only Professor Sprouts’ recommendation but also Severus, McGonagall and Binns. Getting a recommendation from Professor Binns was her greatest accomplishment other than being able to raise Harry when she was just barely an adult. She did give a lot of thanks to Severus for helping her raise the boy. 

Although Severus and James never got along, Severus had always been fond of the Potter girl. She was his favorite Potter that he had ever interacted with, which had only been four but that hadn’t mattered to him. Severus was quite fond of Lily but after realizing she was unattainable, he was able to move on from her. His fondness shifted to a different Potter, this time Y/N. Severus acted like a guard dog in a way, trying his damnedest to keep her safe and happy.

Not only did he act this way to her but also Harry. The boy grew up seeing Severus nearly everyday and had taken to calling the man Uncle Sev when he was 4. Severus had a fondness for Harry but nothing like the fondness he had for the boy’s aunt. Although her brother and his friends were terrible to him, Severus always liked the Potter girl better than her mischievous brother. He knew she was much different from her brother, more reserved, more intelligent, kinder.

The two grew closer and closer as the years went on, it got to a point that other professors were betting on when they would get together and students were constantly asking if they were a couple. Of course the two denied it but then later fantasized about being with the other instead of fessing up to their feelings. However, everything went astray during Harry's third year. Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban and Remus Lupin the new DADA professor.