#Jaime I hope you don’t mind me tagging you

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

So High School got added to the TTPD set list so Taylor could indulge in @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes’s treat culture by having a little killasnack in the middle of singing about people she hates and she’s so valid for that

#eras tour #Paris n1 #Jaime I hope you don’t mind me tagging you #but your little treats are exactly what I thought when she got all giddy singing so high school lol #Taylor said ‘this one is just for me 🥰’

[asvterias]

𝖯𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖡𝗈𝗒 (𝟥)

Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: Just Heartfelt Fluff

Pairings: (FWB) Jaime Reyes x (FWB) Black!Fem!Reader, Bestfriend!Milagro x Bestfriend!Reader

Summary: Being friends with benefits with Jamie is hard to keep undercover, in hopes of Milagro never finding out. The number #1 rule is to be strictly sexual and not explore romantic feelings for the other. What happens when that rule is broken?

Word Count: 2.0k+

Tag List: @n7cje @drqcrys @websterss @pxachy-tea @moralesszz @odiesdayoff @allthingsvicf @tinkerbelle05 @alienstardust @lemonyboy97 @alastorhazbin @writing-fanics @gay-dorito-dust @presidentbarbieirl @veronicarose20 @conicoroahre @sodacatz @chaotic-reblogger @horrorluver20 @zipporahsstuff @yutasol @littlekidsteve @illicee @everybody-hates-mills @hoshi4k @violettathewriter @mymanjaimereyes @vampire-grrl @666kpopfan @nutella-directioner-vampeete @ushygushysimp @borhapparker @tessamoreno @stitched-mouth @obrienslove @raebo0421 @loki-is-low-key @tacoreib @staraifos @avitute @dumbperson6 @idyllcy @luvly-writer @june-pop @madnesspea @chaoticbi-cheesecake @daltonshotgf @unreasonablysapphic @planetvenusworld

Author’s Note: What’s this??; not me publishing two parts in one day! Kinda got carried away with the fluffy ending but who cares?! :)

Spanish Translations

“mi vida.” — “my life.”

“Cálllate, Milagro!” — “Shut up, Milagro!”

“Cálllate, hermano! No me ves teniendo sexo con tu mejor amigo, verdad?” — “You shut up, bro! You don’t see me having sex with your best friend, do you?”

“Uhh, muy grosera, hermana. Estoy parado aquí mismo.” — “Uhh, very rude, sis. I’m standing right here.”

“Bien, entonces no necesitas que me repita.” — “Good, then you don’t need me to repeat myself.”

“No te preocupes, cariño. Sabes que siempre serás mi chica número uno.” — “Don’t worry, babe. You know that you’ll always be my number one girl.”

Everything seems to be picture perfect as you and Jaime viewed, all hot and bothered in each other’s arms. That was…until shit hit the fan for the both of you.

“Jaime! What the actual fuck are you doing?! And with my best friend?” That voice made your heart stop, instantly breaking out of your bubble. Thoughts of Milagro arriving back and catching you two in the act didn’t cross your mind.

You and Jaime looked at each other like deers caught in headlights as you both stumbled to cover yourselves up with your duvet.

How were you two gonna explain this to Milagro now?

“I’m scarred! For life, I’m permanently scarred.” She covers her eyes despite closing her eyes and leaving the room. Guess she needed double reassurance of security to unsee what she just saw. “(Y/N), where’s the bleach? I need two gallons of it for my eyes.”

“You’ll be fine!” Jaime brushes his sister off.

“Says you; you were the one getting it! Lock the door next time! I’m not ready to be an aunt just yet!” She shouts from the kitchen.

“Shut up, Milagro!” Jaime yells, annoyed at his sister. You got dressed in one of Jaime’s oversized hoodies and slipped into a pair of panties, preparing to leave and talk to Milagro.

“Cállate, hermano! No, me ves teniendo sexo con tu mejor amigo, verdad?”

Her statement causes you to softly giggle at their classical sibling tactics. “We have to go out there and talk to her.”

“No, we don’t,” He brings you in by the waist, tightening his grip so you can’t escape from his loving embrace, “She’s twenty years old, not ten and she’ll get over it.”

“She’s used to seeing me naked, not her older brother.” You defend the situation, your finger wiggling onto his chest. Jaime swiftly got dressed after hearing your concluding sentence.

“Wait, what?” His eyebrows furrowed together in shock and confusion, “When did my sister see you naked?”

“That’s a secret that I’ll take to my grave.” You leave the room.

“What? Why not (Y/N)?” Jaime begrudgingly jumps off the bed and follows after you.

The whole discussion with Milagro was awkward. Why wouldn’t it be awkward? She caught her brother and best friend having sex behind her back. The three of you awkwardly surrounded the small kitchen island, all remaining silent.

“When did this sneaky scandal begin?” That was her first question.

You answered, quickly calculating the time frame. “About two months ago.”

“Are you happy?” She cringes, even at her own words.

“It just happened, Milagro. He was the right guy at the right place and time.” You held her hand, “Please don’t be mad, Millie.”

“I’m not mad. Why would I be mad?”

Your perisan white cat Mimi jumps on the kitchen counter, and walks over to you, her fluffy tail high in the air and meows in your arms when you pick her up.

“So, are we good, Mil?” You nudge her. “All water under the bridge and shit!”

“Of course, we’re good, (Y/N).” Milagro assures you before gesturing over to her brother, “But out of all people, why my idiotic brother? You could do so much better.”

“Uhh, muy grosera, hermana. Estoy parado aquí mismo.”

“Bien, entonces no necesitas que me repita.”

Jaime began to argue until you interrupted him. “Guys, we’re getting off track here.”

“Were you guys drunk….when you two first slept with each other,” Your best friend grimaces in horror, shaking her head as she struggles to her words out. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Is this friends with benefits thing going anywhere?”

“I don’t feel comfortable discussing my sex life with my sister.”

“Well, you’re sleeping with my best friend so I’m required to know where this relationship is going.”

“That’s none of your business, that’s between me and (Y/N).” He finalizes. Mimi gestures over to Jaime, wanting to escape from your hands and into his. You scoff at her sudden switch-up, knowing that she was often clingy with you, barely paying attention to Jaime when he came over.

Mimi curls up into Jaime’s arm and he pets her.

“You know for friends with benefits, you two sure act like a couple.”

“What? Where did you get that idea from?”

“Oh come on, even Nana knew before you two idiots.” Milagro rolled her eyes, “She said; ‘There’s nothing like love at first sight, and your best friend and brother are no different to that infamous saying.’ She mimics her grandmother’s words.

“Wait, Is that why mami and papi were acting so weird with me whenever (Y/N) came to visit?”

“Everyone else knew except the two of you.” You stared at Jaime, unable to decipher his thoughts behind his eyes.

Was it true? Were you and Jaime so oblivious that neither of you noticed when other people started to discover the tension between you two? Did Jaime have feelings for you? If so, you were anxiously waiting for his reaction, hoping that you might have the possibility of becoming a couple.

Milagro’s voice broke you from your train of thought. “Don’t make no babies!” Those were her last words before the door slammed shut.

Dreaded silence lingered around the whole apartment as you thought of what to say.

Luckily, Jaime beat you to it and spoke first. “It was true...what I said earlier.” He hesitates.

Mimi jumps out of Jaime’s hold, and scurries off into the living room on a couch, wanting to escape from this current love confession.

“When you said that it was always me, not any other girl. That you’ll always choose me over any girl.” You clarify, recalling his words from doing extracurricular activities with him earlier.

“Yes, all of that is true. I do have feelings for you, (Y/N). I know we made a pact to remain strictly sexual and nothing beyond that but…I’m breaking it because I’m in love with you.”

“I feel the same way,” You whisper, leaning your foreheads together as you caress his face gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. A smile overtook his face, overjoyed at the reciprocated feelings.

You giggled at him when he picked you up, lifting your feet off the ground as you held him tightly. He spun you around, hearing your marvelous laughter erupt from your mouth, and stopped to give you a wholesome kiss.

“You’re free to back out now because there’s no going back anymore once I have you.”

“Oh no, pretty boy, I have no second thoughts, and neither should you. I’m in it for the long haul, all of you.”

A smirk appears on his face, “All of me?”

You quirk an eyebrow, immediately catching on to your unintentional seductive innuendo.

“Don’t push it.” You peck his lips.

“And you better not be holding out on my well-deserved kisses.” He quips, caressing your face as you gaze into his eyes. The boy puckered his lips, “Now I know that you can do better than that.”

You chuckle in amusement at his humor, sending him a thoughtful intimate kiss, as if you were pouring all of your love and affection into it. This time his lips are soft, melting onto your plump brown ones.

When you pull away from him, he gives you a dumbfounded expression, hazy from the powerful kiss.

“Oh yeah, I could certainly get used to this.” He nods, beaming when you pull him in for another kiss.

“Red’s definitely your color.” He says referring to your shade of lipstick as he disconnected your lips. Little does he know that he’s sharing the same faint lipstick on his mouth…and certain parts of his body. “I don’t know why you don’t wear it more often.”

“Because I’m working most of the time, Reyes.”

“Yeah, but when you’re off work, it’s a different story. You should absolutely wear red lipstick occasionally, you look even sexier in red.” You narrowed your eyes at him, urging him to elaborate, noticing his shyness replacing confidence. “Not that you need makeup to look sexier. I was just— meant to say that you do whatever you want to do.”

“Well, I do know that I look sexy in red, Jaime.” You tease him. “But I think that you prefer me with nothing at all. Just all natural, isn’t that right?” Although he grew used to your confidence, you still rendered him clueless and flustered at times.

Mimi brushes against your legs, making her presence known again, causing you to pull away from Jaime. Picking her up gently, she meowed in affection.

“You also have a stepdaughter now.” You held up Mimi excitedly, waving your medium-sized cat in front of your boyfriend.

He laughs as Mimi reaches out for Jaime. Your cat cuddles into his embrace and lounges her body all over him.

“Kiss-ass,” You mutter folding your arms, avoiding eye contact with either of them, hating that your boyfriend’s attention is already being stolen away by your cat, “Just so you know, I’m not fighting with my daughter over my boyfriend.”

With Mimi comfortably adjusted on his left arm, he stretches his other arm across your shoulder, pulling you into his side. You have to crane your neck just to look up at him because he is almost nearly 6 feet tall.

“No te preocupes, cariño. Sabes que siempre serás mi chica número uno.” He places a kiss on your temple, content when you snuggle into his body, wrapping your arms around his waist.

The cat cuddling Jaime screeches in betrayal, seemingly understanding the different language.

“Apparently, Mimi understands Spanish as well.” He jokes, looking down at the cat, whose eyes narrow down in annoyance and disappointment. Attempting to bring up Mimi’s mood, he scratches her head and kisses her on the head as well. The persian cat purrs lovingly in response as she rests her head on his chest.

You swoon over the wholesome interaction between your boyfriend and your dear cat.

“I love you, mi vida.” He kisses your cheek.

“I love you too, my pretty boy.”

Perhaps some rules were made to be broken, exploring the boundaries and the depth of the type of relationship. Either way, you finally had Jaime and you were never letting go of him. Hopefully, your new healthy relationship will transpire into a long-term relationship, full of mutual respect, admiration, and most importantly, communication. He was determined to make him the best boyfriend that you dated.

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© asvterias, 2023. please do not plagiarize any of my works.

#blue beetle 2023 #jaime reyes #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes x fem!reader #jaime reyes x black!reader #jaime reyes x black!fem!reader #jaime reyes fluff #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes fanfiction #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle x fem!reader #blue beetle x black!reader #blue beetle x black!fem!reader #blue beetle fluff #blue beetle imagine #blue beetle fanfic

[bellarkeselection]

Breathe With Me

Request from @val2557 imagine of Kayce Dutton and he is helping the reader when she has a an anxiety attack when there is a lot of people at a dinner they are attending?

Everybody that knew who the Dutton family were had started making their own judgments about my relationship with Kayce. His father John always asked his kids to show up to the Livestock dinner party but it was rare that they all showed up. Beth didn’t see the point in it, Lee was focusing on running the ranch, Jaime was trying to run for office and that left the reason Kayce didn’t go to them….me.

I wanted to attend the dinners I really did. There was just one problem. I had anxiety when it came to large crowds who I felt were judging me. Running my hands down the light orange dress I was wearing I sighed letting my mind wander with my thoughts. “Come on Y/n. You can make it through this.”

“Y/n, are you ready….wow.” Whipping my head around I heard my boyfriend’s voice enter the bedroom.

I turned around making my short brown boots screech against the wooden floor. Normally I had my hair up in a braid but I decided to leave it loose and just put some curls on the ends. “Is it too much. I don’t know how you dress for a livestock dinner.”

“It’s not that. You….damn you look good.” Kayce gasped slowly crossing the floor until he was standing in front of me.

I smiled eyeing him in a tux for once. “You clean up rather good too, Dutton.” He had his normal black cowboy hat on his head paired with a white dress shirt and a black suit jacket.

“Are you sure you’re up for tonight. We can just stay home. My father will understand why.” He suggested to me.

I teased him trying to not have the conversation. “You just want to stay home so we can lay in bed all night.”

“I mean you weren’t complaining last time when we had sex for hours….but I am being serious about not wanting you to be nervous.” Kayce pointed out to me with a smirk on his face leaning closer to me kissing my forehead. He wrapped his arms around my waist tugging me against his chest gently.

Shaking my head in disagreement I draped my arms over his shoulders kissing his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Kayce. Tonight is important for your father and he want him to keep liking me if you ever want to put your mother’s ring on my finger.” He nodded looping his arm through mine leading me to his truck since we said we would meet him there later.

The drive wasn’t that bad since we just listened to county music until we parked the truck outside the building. He helped me out of the truck and we walked in together not holding hands since I wanted to appear confident during the dinner. Kayce had me walk in front of him opening the next door wheee I gulped coming into contact with a room of livestock members all talking. “Hey, look at me. Just tap me if you need to go and we will.”

“I got it, Kayce.” I nodded moving through the crowd of people finding our table and name tags at the very front.

John walked out onto the stage nodding his head down at us as a silent thank you for being here the second we sat down in our chairs. Lee was there but Beth and Jaime’s spots were still empty. “Since 1886 every Dutton who died is buried 300 yards from my back porch. My great, great, grandfather, to my wife, and someday I will be there myself. When a tree grows on my ranch, I know exactly what fed it. That’s the best we can hope for because nothing we do is for today. Ranching is the only business where the goal is to break even. Survive another season. Last long enough for your children to continue the cycle, and maybe just maybe, the land is still there when a tree sprouts from you…lord god give us rain and a little luck and we’ll do the rest, amen.”

I smiled, watching his speech feeling fine until I heard someone next to our table whispering. "I can't believe they came tonight."

"My boys were joking that they don't come because she might be pregnant." Another mumbled to their friend.

Reaching for the fork on the table I attempted to push past the tightness I could feel beginning to surface in my chest. "But there is someone I'd like to recognize tonight because she has been a great member of the family for a while now. Y/n L/n, I appreciate everything you do for this family."

"Hey are you okay?” Kayce shifted his gaze over to me seeing my chest heaving up and down. I was also clutching the fork in my hand until my fingers were almost turning white.

Lee glanced our direction beginning to clap at the end of his speech. “Congrats to Y/n and my father.”

Everybody around us joined in the clapping and cheering while John made his way over to our table. He sat down in the chair next to me. I shifted my gaze around the room quickly in a panic seeing my vision start to get blurry. “Y/n?” Kayce calls my name the second I dropped the fork and it clattered to the floor and I jumped up rushing through the crowd to the bathroom.

Shutting the door quickly I gasped for breath sliding down onto the floor to catch my breath. Gripping my hair in between my fingers I was so annoyed at myself. I shouldn’t have ran out of the room like that but I didn’t know what else to do. “Y/n, darling. Can I come in?”

“Yeah…” I croaked out wiping away the and getting up from the ground floor when he opened the door and shut it so nobody would see me crying in there.

Kayce stared at me silently for a moment seeing that I was shaking in my boots. Wrapping my arms around myself I felt like I still couldn’t breathe even though the tightness in my chest had gone away. He opened his arms and tilted his head telling me to com here. “Sssh I’ve got you. I’m right here…it’s gonna be okay.”

“Is it….how badly do you think I embarrassed your father leaving like that?” I sniffed through tears gripping onto his dress shirt as tightly as possible.

He just keeps me close to his chest resting his chin on top of my head. He knew that I was going to worry about this when there was something more important like my well being going on. He wasn’t concerned with what the others out there thought, he just wanted me to be okay. “It doesn’t matter right now. Just breathe in and out with me until you’re better. Can you do that for me?”

“Mmm.” I made a noise barley breaking the hug where he was holding onto my forearms since I still didn’t have good balance. Taking in a couple of long breaths in and out I finally started feeling better where I laid my head back down on his chest and he kissed my forehead.

Kayce smiled lightly squeezing my hand in his. “Let’s get you out of here. I’ll explain what happened to my dad later.”

“Are you sure he won’t be upset?” I questioned him where he leads me through the hallway and out to his truck. He helped me back into the vehicle before getting in on his own side.

He reached over taking my hand in his once more. “I’m sure, baby. I just want you to feel better.”

“Thanks Kayce.” I smiled laying my head on his shoulder and we stayed in the parking lot just enjoying the silence before we went home for the evening. Both calm in the others presence and away from the busy livestock diner.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#kayce dutton #kayce dutton x fem!reader #kayce dutton x reader #kayce dutton imagine #luke grimes #yellowstone series #yellowstone #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone masterlist #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone x reader #ask box is open for anything #requests open #comments really appreciated #anxiety attack #yellowstone one shot

[wannabeschyulersister]

happier part two

part one

*based on the song happier by olivia rodrigo*

“Bradley? Hey, are you listening to me?”

Rooster snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Jaime calling his name, “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I’m listening.”

It was a lie but he hoped Jaime wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Is your head still in the clouds?” She asked with a smile.

He nodded. Another lie. His head wasn’t in the clouds. His mind was consumed with you.

It had been a month since the beach hangout. A month of Rooster replaying your words in his head. Of remembering the saddened look on your face. It tore him to pieces.

It would help if he didn’t have to see you nearly everyday. You were both in the same program. You had to constantly be around each other. It was clear that you were avoiding him as much as you could. You didn’t go out as often if Rooster was tagging along. You steered clear of him during meals.

You were trying very hard to mend your broken heart.

Rooster tried to be in the moment at dinner with Jaime. He knew how unfair it was to be thinking about someone else while on a date. However, his mind kept wondering off to what you could be doing.

“Bradley?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“I’ve been talking for like five minutes and you haven’t been responding at all.” Jaime huffed. She hardly got upset but with they way that Bradley was acting, he didn’t blame her.

“I’m sorry, I’m just-“

“Thinking about (Y/n).”

After the beach hangout, Rooster told Jaime about his relationship with you. It was clear when you returned to the group practically crying that something happened between the two of you.

Jaime asked Rooster point blank if he still had feelings for you and he told her no. It was a lie and he felt horrible about it. It was a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that he felt whenever he was with Jaime.

“I’m not thinking about (Y/n).” Lie.

Jaime sighed and looked down at her hands, “It seemed like you both were very special to each other. It’s difficult to let something like that go.”

“Jaime, it’s not like that.” Lie.

She smiled a little, “You’re a horrible liar, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“I’m-“ he was going to say that he wasn’t lying but that would be the fifth lie in less than five minutes and his heart couldn’t handle it.

“If I told you that it didn’t hurt then I would be the one that’s lying.”

Rooster felt like an asshole, “Jaime, I’m really sorry.”

“I know. I also know what it’s like to still be so hung up on someone that you can’t function. Is that how you feel about (Y/n)?”

Rooster nodded, unable to speak. He felt so ashamed.

“Do you get butterflies whenever she’s around? Feel like you’re dying a little when you can’t see her but then the minute you spot her, it feels like everything is going to be okay?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel.”

“Then you should be with her and not sitting here with me.”

“How are you so understanding about all of this? If I were you, I’d be throwing wine in my face and screaming.”

Jaime laughed, “Do you want me to throw wine in your face?”

Rooster shook his head quickly, “No, I’m too fond of this shirt.”

“Yes, I’m upset but why would I want to be with someone that’s still in love with someone else? The time we’ve spent together has been great but not too serious for me to be devastated by this.”

Rooster was blown away by how mature Jaime was. She was truly amazing. “I never deserved you. You’re too kind and too freaking awesome. You deserve a guy that’s way better than me.”

Jaime flipped her gorgeous blonde hair over her shoulder, “That’s damn right. You know any guys that are on my level?”

He chuckled but then immediately stopped when the idea hit him, “Actually, I do. There’s a guy that’s sorta my friend that I think you’d like. His ego is the size of Texas but he’s a nice guy nonetheless.”

“Well, I look forward to meeting him,” Jaime stood up from the table and grabbed her purse. She stopped and looked back at Rooster, “Go and tell (Y/n) how you feel. Don’t waste another moment.”

Rooster stood up as well and hugged Jaime, “I’m really sorry that this didn’t work out.”

“You can make it up to me by being happy and by going to tell (Y/n) that you can’t live another minute without her.”

—————-

When Rooster entered the Hard Deck an hour later, he immediately looked around for you. He overheard from Hangman and Bob that the group would be meeting at their usual spot and Rooster assumed that you’d be there as well.

He saw the group around the pool tables but you weren’t with them.

“Hey, guys. Is (Y/n) here?” Rooster didn’t waste any time. He needed to talk to you. There was so much that he wanted to say.

Phoenix set her pool stick down, “Why are you here? I thought you had a date tonight?”

“Uh, Jaime and I ended things.”

That caught everyone’s attention.

“Are you okay?” Bob asked clearly concerned about his friend.

Rooster nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just really need to talk to (Y/n).”

The group all exchanged knowing looks. Clearly something was going on that they didn’t want Rooster to know.

“What? Why are you all looking like that?” He questioned.

“Well, (Y/n) isn’t here.” Phoenix said.

“Okay, then where is she?”

“(Y/n) is going out on a date.” Hangman told him a little smugly. Sure, Hangman and Rooster were on better terms than before but he couldn’t help but be the one to tell him.

Rooster experienced a rush of emotions all at once. “She’s where?”

That smug smile appeared on Hangman’s face, “Bob set her up with a friend of his.”

Rooster snapped and turned to face Bob, “You did what?!”

Bob held his hands up defensively, “I didn’t know you still had a thing for her! She met my friend Frank here a couple of weeks ago. They seemed to hit it off so he asked her out for tonight.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Rooster exclaimed. His outburst earned the looks from some nearby patrons but only for a moment.

“Hey! Was (Y/n) supposed to just wait around for you to get your head out of your ass?” Phoenix asked him, “No! She deserves to be happy too, you jackass.”

Phoenix wasn’t afraid to tell anyone in the group when they were wrong. She was often seen as the moral compass that everyone needed.

“I didn’t expect for (Y/n) to wait for me.” Rooster said.

Phoenix rolled her eyes, “Yeah, you did.”

Rooster didn’t know what to do in that moment. He was so conflicted that he felt like he was getting a headache. You were moving on and deserved to do so. It wouldn’t be fair to go and uproot all of the work that you’ve done.

But, didn’t Rooster deserve to be happy to?

He felt so damn selfish even considering going to find you and tell you how he felt.

…..But he had to try right?

“God, I’m such an idiot.” He mumbled.

“That’s for damn sure. (Y/n) is a catch.” Hangman said, “I’ve even thought about-“

Rooster quickly pointed a finger at him, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Phoenix stepped in between them, “I agree with Hangman. (Y/n) is a catch. She deserves to be happy. If you are going to try and screw things up for her, you’re going to have to go through me first.”

Rooster was genuinely terrified of Phoenix, “I’m not going to screw things up.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

Everyone waited for Rooster’s answer.

He took a deep breath and glanced around, “I’m going to go get my girl back.”

@sarahayden @justanothermagicalsara @shelbycillian @annagraceevanss @xoxabs88xox @greaser9902 @chxosunbound @filmsbyblair @harper1666 @itsmadamehydra @deeahhmaa @wren-starling @fulla02 @peppizzathief @hueanhdang @mayempress @more-multifandom-of-madness @a-lil-bit-nuts @havlindzk @tallyovie @untoldshortsofthefandoms @beaner-life-23 @willowpains

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster imagine #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #top gun x reader #rooster top gun

[theluckywizard]

In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 72: Wicked Hearts

Summary: Rose struggles to survive the dark turn the peace talks gala has taken.

Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke. Excerpt below the cut 👇

Excerpt:

Florianne’s laughter leaves me cold. “If you’re going to hide, mind the trail of blood you’re leaving.”

Curled behind the wardrobe, terrified tears slickening my cheeks, wanting Hawke, wanting anyone to come for me, I tremble in wait.

And then she’s standing over me

“Make it quick,” I mutter.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, yanking the cloth away from my side and nudging the wound with her boot. Claiming my last shred of hope, she crouches to cut my pouch from my hip. “I want you to hear their screams when we come for her.”

Florianne dumps my remaining healing draughts on the floor and then stands to crush them under her boot. She takes a step closer and kicks me over onto my back. “A valiant fight, Inquisitor. But not enough.”

“You’re going to regret this,” I spit. “The whole world will hate you.”

Florianne turns, her thin, proud line of a smirk cuts through the shadows.

“The world already hates me.”

She walks out.

My mind drifts. Something like Jaime’s dandelion seeds, aloft on a summer breeze. I’m too weak and woozy to stand or run, but I can roll. I crawl on my cut up forearms closer to the puddled draught on the dusty tile floor and push my hands through it. The potion tastes like bitter hope as I suck it from my fingers and spit splinters of glass. Time swims and my head grows heavier with each lave of my tongue.

There’s no one else to stop him. I have to fight.

It feels so much like drifting to sleep, this last march to the Maker’s side. Peppermint and laughter. Snug thoughts of being pillowed in Hawke’s arms mix with flickers of Father and Mother and Jaime and Tom. It feels like something I’m meant to do— think of those I’ll leave behind and those I’m coming to. But other thoughts crowd in: Corypheus’ ruined face and corrupted eyes taunting me, the broken sky of that dark future, my friends, poisoned by red lyrium. Despair settles heavy over me like a funereal shroud and I lose myself beneath it.

Read the rest here!

Start the fic here!

DAFF Tag List:

@warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren | @breninarthur | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @dreadfutures | @plisuu | @ir0n-angel | @inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @nirikeehan | @oxygenforthewicked | @about2dance | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @agentkatie | @delicatefade | @leggywillow

#Wicked Eyes Wicked Hearts #Dragon Age Inquisition #Dragon Age Fan Fiction #Rose Trevelyan #Canon Divergence #Hawke x Trevelyan #Cullen x Trevelyan #Things go sideways #Just a little bit #in the shattering of things #theluckywizard

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Fifteen.

Oh bloody blimey, besties! I should have had this with you about five hours ago, lmao! I was to preoccupied with S5 dropping, I totally forgot! I hope you enjoy it, this was a chapter I loved writing for several reasons... especially nudging them together in the spice department ;) Huge thanks to all my regular givers of that all-important engagement, you’re lovely. Mwah! 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 3,023

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

The scenery that took them from the built up area of Provo and out towards Keri’s home was stunning, Angel thought, all tree lined roads that were still snow-capped, although like she’d told him during their time apart, there’d been no real deluges since the huge downfall that had left them stuck in at Frankie and Jaime’s apartment the previous Saturday.  

The small crescent Keri lived upon, only a five-minute walk from the foot of the mountains consisted of just seven houses, all chalet style, lots of darkly stained wood with long driveways, Keri pulling into the one with the bright yellow mailbox out front, parking up next to a Toyota Crown, Angel pointing at the dark grey vehicle. “She’s still here. Fuck.”

“Come on, it’ll be fine,” she reassured him, hopping out of the car, Angel making that same small noise of dread in the back of his throat he had while at the airport. He usually didn’t give a shit what people thought of him, as was the case with her friend Aaron and his disproval, but with her mom, it did matter to him more.  

Entering the house, he looked around at the décor, lots of pale jewel tones, heavy wood and thick rugs. It was cosy, rustic chic, very befitting of the location, shrugging his jacket off and hanging it up before kicking off his boots, not able to resist giving Keri’s butt a little stroke as she bent to unzip her boots. She turned with a grin, kissing him and walking through the lounge, turning right into the large, pale sage kitchen, Meryl looking up from where she’d been rooting in her bag with a small smile.

“Well,” she began, walking over and extending her hand, looking him up and down, “never let it be said that my daughter doesn't pick the good-looking ones. Hello Angel, I'm Meryl.” Civility, phew. Keri’s insides breathed a little sigh of relief.  

He leaned to kiss her cheek as they shook hands, his hammering heart slowing a little to have been greeted with reasonable warmth. He had wondered. “Nice to meet you, and I hope you don't hate me too much either.”  

Her eyebrows fluttered a touch. “That remains to be seen when I actually get to sit and talk to you properly! Anyway, I gotta dash. See you both later.” Kissing Keri on the cheek, she hauled her bag over her arm and left, leaving Angel to breathe a sigh of somewhat relief.

“Well, she didn’t take one look and tell me to fuck off, so there’s that, I guess,” he laughed, Keri encircling his waist in a hug as he yawned. “Would you mind if I went up and got a little sleep? Since you have your friends coming anyway, it keeps me out of your hair.”

“Not at all, come on.” He followed her up the stairs, Keri showing him the spare room before taking him to hers. “You can sleep in my room for now. What mom can’t see, she can’t get mad over. I like the idea of you being up here in my bed anyway.”  

He began taking his clothes off, stripping down to his boxers before climbing beneath the covers, the raw cotton linen soft and comfy against his skin. “How long do we have until your girls arrive?”  

She looked at her watch, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “About an hour.” A squeal left her mouth when he immediately sat up, yanking her down by his side, wrapping her in his arms.

“Stay here until then, even though I probably will be asleep in five minutes, I like having you next to me when I am.” He kissed her cheek, Keri running her hand up and down the bulk of his arm, feeling his lips press a few kisses against her neck.

“Deal. Want me to save you some breakfast?”  

“No thanks, baby. I’m good, I ate two footlong subs before I got on the plane.”  

“God, that’d send me into hibernation!” she exclaimed, Angel laughing, kissing the side of her neck again. She lay there with him, continuing the lazy stroking of his arm, realising that after less than two minutes, he’d drifted off. “Five minutes, my ass, sleepy man.”  Untangling herself, she got up off the bed, leaving him somewhat reluctantly to go and make preparations for breakfast.

Her clumsiness very much extended to her cooking endeavours, Keri deciding to play it safe and make a tray bake, throwing in bacon, cut up sausages, tomatoes and mushrooms into a large crock dish ready to put into the oven and then crack a few eggs over halfway through cooking. The result? A one dish bake of loveliness that she likely wouldn’t ruin, to be served with toast and a big pot of coffee.  

She had just successfully cracked the eggs into it and closed the oven once more when the doorbell chimed at just gone 8am, rushing to let her friends in, Rachel hopping up and down.

“Move! I need to pee!”

“Go upstairs,” Keri advised quickly, steering her towards the stairs. “The downstairs isn’t flushing.”  

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna wet myself!” she continued, Keri and Frankie greeting one another with a hug and kiss as Rachel stormed the stairs.  

“I swear, she has a bladder the size of an egg cup,” the latter joked. “Oh, before I forget! Jaime said can she have the top you borrowed back, please?”

“Yeah, sorry I did mean to bring it with me to college in the week. I’ll go get it now, coffee is done so go help yourself.” She was just coming back out of her bedroom as Rachel exited the bathroom, peering over her shoulder, an elegantly groomed eyebrow rising significantly higher than the other.  

“So, you’re seriously telling me, you’re making a man as good looking as he is, with a chest like that, wait for sex?”  

Keri gave her arm a soft thump. “Don’t be a perv!”

“Oh, honey!” She exclaimed softly as Keri closed her bedroom door quietly. “If I were you, I would have cancelled with us this morning and been quite happily in there, sitting right on his face.”  

A little flicker of fire licked her insides, Keri remembering doing just that to him in a dream once. “Hmm,” she began as they descended the stairs. “I might give him a little something before he leaves again. I might not.”

“Nothing wrong with a little bit of something, a little tease,” Rachel giggled, giving her shoulders a soft squeeze.  

“Who’s teasing? You mean Keri and her big ole’ wedge of man upstairs?” Frankie called as they entered the kitchen. “Still not uncrossing your legs for the poor fella then, K?”  

“That remains to be seen,” she spoke sweetly, moving to the toaster and placing the bread in.  

Frankie snorted into her coffee mug. “Beets, just give up the P! How long has it been since you got laid?”  

Her mouth twisted into an uncomfortable grimace. “Three months.”

“Oh, oh three months, she says, three months, she throws out like it’s nothing,” Frankie spoke, her voice full of comic dismissiveness. “Get up those stairs and have a ride on him, go on. We can wait, can’t we?”

Rachel nodded rapidly. “We can.”

“Quit it!” they were advised, Keri feeling her cheeks reddening. “You two are awful.”

Rachel cocked her head, taking a seat next to Frankie. “I’ll take that.”

“Yeah, me too.” Her grin finally made Keri crack as she placed the dish down on the place mats upon the island, laughing as she began to serve up the breakfast, Frankie helping by getting up to go and butter the toast.  

They enjoyed their food, chattering away as they ate and then cleared up the mess, Keri picking up her camera and taking a few beautifully candid shots of them both, turning to show them along the way.  

“Oh, look at that one!” Frankie gushed, viewing the close up of Rachel smiling the way the light caught the green tones in her eyes, the vibrancy of her red hair even more luminous, the subject herself loving it just as much.

“Yeah, that looks amazing.”  

All three of them nearly died of fright at the sudden appearance of Angel, three shocked squeaks making him rumble with laughter, Frankie smacking him in the abs with an almighty slap against his bare skin.  

“Dickhead!” she cried, Angel wrapping her in a hug, kissing the top of her head, greeting Rachel too, who grinned hugely at being squished against the very chest she’d so admired, Angel then moving to Keri, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as he stood behind her.

“Thought you were sleeping?” she asked, looking up at him.  

“Turns out two hours is all I needed. Besides, can I be blamed for there being three gorgeous women in the house and me not coming to hang out with them?”  

“Charmer,” Frankie snorted. “You gotta dial it back, or Rachel will be sliding off her fucking stool.”  

“Oh yeah?” he asked, eyes fixing on Rachel, mortified by her friend. “Like what you see, huh, Rach?”  

“Keri is a lucky girl, that’s all I’m saying,” she spoke, side eyeing a very proud looking Frankie, who just kept right on going.

“She isn’t that lucky! We’ve been told, Angel, that she’s being all coy where giving up the P is concerned.” Keri’s lips tightened, glad Angel was behind her so he couldn’t see the look on her face, her eyes widening in a ‘don’t you dare!’ stare of death. “You’d probably get further with a nun.”  

Immediately, he boomed with laughter, but not solely in response to the joke. “I did, one time.”  

“What?” Frankie shouted. “You tried to fuck a nun?”

“Didn’t try.” Leaning forward, he reached for a shiny, red apple from the fruit bowl. “Did fuck her, mamas.”  

Keri’s mouth dropped open, turning to look at him as he bit into the apple, the others wearing the exact same faces of shock. “You defiled one of god’s wives?”

He shrugged, winking. “She liked it.”  

Immediately, Frankie reached across the island, throwing her fist forward. “Bump it, bro. That’s the best score I’ve ever heard in my life!” He obliged, laughing.  

“Unholy come-union,” Rachel added, Angel bellowing with laughter.  

“Yeah, pretty much.” Keri was still stuck in shock, Angel reaching beneath her chin with his thumb and shutting her gaping mouth. “What?”

“You!”

“I bet he’s got way naughtier stories in his arsenal,” Frankie added, her eyes alight. She loved hearing about other people’s wild shenanigans.  

“Oh, I do, but I don’t wanna mortify Keri. We’ll have some bro time, I’ll tell you then,” he vouched with a nod. Once again, Keri’s head swivelled comically to look at him.  

“Ahem, I’m not made of glass,” she muttered, poking him under his chin.

“Fine,” he spoke through a mouthful of apple. “Frances, proceed.”

Her question was immediate, like it had been burning the tip of her tongue. “Most forbidden fuck you’ve ever had, apart from the nun?”  

“That wasn’t forbidden. She was running away from her convent, I gave her a ride, took her home and she gave me one. Simple,” he began, Rachel screaming with laughter above the giggles of her friends. “Nah, the worst one was when I banged the wife of a rival club’s president.”

Frankie grinned. “I’m sensing there’s an ‘and’, here.”  

“And I might’ve filmed it.”

“And?”

“Might’ve sent it to him.”  

“And?”

“Might’ve instigated a small war.”  

“And?”

“Might’ve got kicked right in the crotch by our club president for not being able to keep my dick under control.”  

Keri was folded in half, her laughter making her sides hurt. “You are so bad!”

“I am,” he confessed. “Well, I was. I’ve calmed down a little now, though.” Bishop’s boot meeting his cock at a hundred miles an hour had checked him adequately, even though eventually, he’d found Angel’s antics pretty funny.  

Frankie could barely breathe for laughing. “He’s an animal, I love him!” she cried, wiping her tears of laughter, Angel grinning, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Keri stood and composed herself, basking in the affection of him, the humour of his stories, and the glow that her friends seemed to think he was just as amazing as she did. He’d settled right into her world, like a jigsaw piece that was always meant to click into place there.

A while later, after her friends had left and her jigsaw piece had decided he wanted to go back to bed for a while, she stood in the kitchen putting away plates after the dishwasher had finished its cycle, thinking on the things he’d told them.  

She knew Angel was an incredibly sexual person, it was something that radiated from him in shades, but she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t feel a little intimidated over the fact that his sexual experience eclipsed hers in shades. She wasn’t a virginal princess, she very much had a wild side that liked to reveal itself when she felt secure enough to do so, but it did nag at her a tiny bit. Was he really okay with waiting, truly? Was she overthinking things?  

“Nothing wrong with a little bit of something, a little tease.” Rachel’s words returned to her there. Maybe, it might be just the thing to make her relax, take a little power herself, redress the balance. He’d asked her not to be a cock tease, but hell, he might enjoy her being playful with him?  

The anticipation of pleasure was, after all, a very considerable pleasure in itself.

“Oh, giving me a little strip, huh?” Angel asked after she’d joined him in her bedroom, removing her sock and jeans, her undies and top remaining.  

“Only a very brief one.” Lifting the covers, she climbed in beside him, cuddling up against him. “Since I won’t have this later, I’m getting it now.”

“What, teasing me with those gorgeous legs?”

Sticking one out from under the covers, she examined it with a soft hum. “Yeah, they’re not bad, are they?”  

“I’m sure they’ll be even better when they’re wrapped around me.”  

The coyness of her smile gave way to something truly devilish, Angel feeling arousal stir low within him. “I remember you saying you wanted to watch that Vikings show when we spoke in the week. Shall we, since we have no plans to go out until tomorrow?”

“Yeah, can do.” he replied casually, Keri exiting the comforter once more, crawling to the end of the bed to begin hunting for her TV remote. Oh, god. She knew what she was doing, the sight of her ass in a small pair of black undies making that little stirring suddenly whirl much more ferociously for him. “You need to stop with that shit.”

Looking back over her shoulder, her eyes wide an innocent, it took Angel all he had not to launch himself at her. “I’ve no idea what you mean, big guy. I’m just looking for the remote.”

Like fuck, she had no idea. “Ahh, got it!” Shuffling back, she switched the TV on, getting comfortable beside him again. She could feel his eyes fixed upon her, turning to kiss his chest. “What?”

He sucked a breath over his teeth. “The fucking audacity. Presenting me with the very thing I’d fucking eat from front to back, given half the damned chance, shit!” Again, she was in hysterics, Angel just looking mildly pained.  

“That thorough, huh?” she winked, kissing him when he growled in frustration, turning her over and pinning her beneath his weight.

“What’s that I said about not being a cock tease?” He arched an eyebrow at her, Keri biting her lip, deliberately brushing his sides with her thighs. “Oh, baby girl. If you play me, I'll fucking play back, and you won't like it one bit.”

Her lips tilted into a grin. “Is that how it is, hmm?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, kissing her chest, taking her wrists and pushing them down above her head, holding her there pinned easily with one hand encircling both. “That’s how it is.”

“So, you have me pinned, what's next?” she asked, a smirk tilting her pretty mouth. He didn't answer her in words, leaning to her, offering slow, lazy kisses, tickling her lips with his tongue before it slid against hers, his free hand beginning to trail up and down her side. It was barely anything at all, actions wise, but already, she felt heat beginning to glow through her depths, their kisses becoming heavier, Angel moving between her legs a little closer, pressing his rigid cock against her apex.  

“This is next, if you really, really want it,” he began, her thighs tensing at his waist. “Or maybe this.” He flickered his tongue speedily at the side of her throat, his hand moving down, a finger dipping to trail beneath the elastic of her underwear. “Up to you, pretty girl, whether I dick you down slow, or lick you quickly.”  

He looked down upon her again, her chest flushed pink, her lips parted as she panted softly, her pupils fully blown, leaning to her, kissing her with filthy heat. “And I know whatever you choose, I have you so damned worked up right now, it’d only take about ten seconds before you came, either all over my dick, or my tongue. So, which one do you want?”  

“I... I...” she gasped, arching against him, feeling heavy from the ache of lust between her legs. “I don’t know.” Another kiss, and she was on fire, Angel moving his mouth to her neck once more, his cock pushing against her harder.

“Well, y’all got plenty of time to make up your mind, because you ain’t getting either any time soon.” Releasing his grasp, he turned onto his back, winking at her stunned face. “I told you not to play me.”

“Oh, I’m going to get you back so bad for that.”  

Lifting his chin with narrowed eyes, his mouth broadened into a grin. “Bring it.”  

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #angel reyes smut #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x ofc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

[esther-dot]

I feel like GRRM's update for the first time confirms that not all will be the same in the ending as we have seen on screen. Bc what else can we make abt the deaths? Who died we cared abt? Rickon, Jamie, Cersei, Daenerys, Theon (oh, Euron too, lol). Any of these surviving changes the story significantly, as well as any death that we haven't seen on screen (looking at you, Tyrion!) What are your thoughts on this update Dot?

Don’t laugh about Euron, anon, @istumpysk will come for your ass. 😂

I read that update and wondered what prompted him to write that because it gave me a similar feeling to reading his post GoT finale post. @kazetoame saw my tags and filled me in:

Thank you @kazetoame!!! I didn’t know what was happening but it felt prompted by something specific. Now we know!

On the positive side, I think he’s making progress because he’s thinking about the reception of the book and I definitely felt like this was his effort to get the audience hyped. Now knowing that may be to benefit HOTD rather than be about TWOW arriving soon...well, I don’t know. I’m still pleased by the vibe. However, I’m doubtful this is as new/exciting as we want it to be as far as it giving more information.

Here’s part of his post GoT blog from May 2019:

And this is part of the one he posted today:

He also talks (again) about his characters that weren’t included or D&D killed off

To me, the two posts sound fairly similar. Even the discussion of the ending feels about the same to me. Now he says “Some things will be the same. A lot will not.” Back in 2019 he said:

I understand why people want to latch onto “Characters will live! Others will die! A lot will be different!!!” But I suppose I’m hesitant to think he means what we want him to mean because even today he was still saying this:

He prefaced all the talk about characters living/dying and when with this comment, so I don’t think he’s changed his mind about what his endpoints are or even the major beats. How things will transpire, sure. But those important moments he’s had in his head for years/decades? The things he has told us time and again over the course of years that he told D&D? The things the fandom wants to believe are strictly their fuckery? Like say, Stannis burning Shireen, King Bran, Dark Dany? I still think that’s all from him. The endpoints? I still think those are his. That may just be my pessimism speaking, and I am certainly not trying to persuade anyone to agree, I just read that and thought...this is (almost) the same post.

My thought about ASOIAF characters not making it to the end who did in GoT was Cersei, which @kazetoame said as well:

Our minds! Although, my one hesitancy there is that I always thought Jaime and Cersei died together, and for some reason I didn’t think he’d be axed before seeing Tyrion again? But it could be Edmure, Davos, Gendry, Tormund (who for some reason feels like a very safe bet to me)…I mean, it doesn’t have to be one of the characters that is preeminent in our minds. I thought Cersei because in my head Aegon takes KL before Dany arrives and is winning over the people and that plays into why Dany kabooms the place. The Dany v Cersei idea seemed like a show thing to keep fans from realizing Dany was the final baddie, not Cersei. But like I said, it could be a number of characters. I’m not sure that someone dying sooner necessarily means a remarkable difference in the endgame. It may mean certain things (like the burning of KL) make far more sense though.

I also thought the comment about characters living in ASOIAF who died in the show is (potentially) a very misleading idea. I already see people hoping Dany survives, but it could be someone like Melisandre, we could see Benjen again, Edd could survive, Missandei could live, I reblogged a post suggesting Selmy. I know he doesn’t mean it badly, he’s just doing his job and trying to help the shows set in his world succeed, but it seems cruel to bring up this idea in such vague terms when we all know the fandom at large only cares about Dany surviving so they will take it as the confirmation of that. I am sure that isn’t the person he’s thinking of. Fingers crossed Rickon lives! And if he does, a lot of fans have pointed out that Sansa should be Robb’s heir as she is older, that progress means less sexism and that the eldest regardless of gender should inherit, so I’m not sure that Rickon surviving has to change her ending. I’m not counting on it, but it’s nice to think about. My point is, Martin can be honest, but his honesty still leaves a lot of room for us to deceive ourselves. I’m trying really hard not to.

So, to me, the post felt similar to what he wrote after the GoT finale only a little more focused in his desire to hype people for his books and convince them TWOW is still worth reading. He knows how the end of GoT went over, and I think that’s part of why he’s again trying to point out that there will be stuff we don’t know in his books, and he really did spend a while emphasizing that. Yay! But I also think there are reasons other than just trying to be nice to us that leads him to make these comments, and I’ve already seen articles pop up saying he is reassuring fans his series will end differently...and I just don’t know that that is an accurate reflection of what he was trying to say. There will be a lot of differences in the particulars, I know that. But will the things we really care about be dramatically different? Sadly, I’m still doubtful.

#ask dot #grrm

[yjwhatif]

HELLO! I'm a writer on here and I really have been stuck lately, I write for yj and was wondering if you wouldn't mind giving me a couple prompts to work with?

Hi 👋 sorry to hear you’re feeling stuck Anon - truth is, I’ve been having the same problem lately.

In terms of prompts… naturally my brain goes completely blank at this exact moment…🙄 I'll list some random thoughts that come to mind below, but if there’s any particular areas/characters/genres you would prefer me to focus on feel free to drop me another message and I’ll see what I can come up with as these will probably be rubbish…

Ed and Virgil crash date night for Tye and asami…

Jay grounds Bart for going into space without telling him…

Ed attempts to convince Tye to become a mentor at the MHYC…

Jaime and Ed go searching for the missing Bart…

Scarab is a total third wheel on Jaime and Traci‘s first official date…

The outsiders enjoy a trip to the beach… shenanigans ensue…

Zatanna shares a family meal with Raquel and amistad (pre her father’s return)…

A very chaotic day of babysitter roulette for Lian as different events keep coming up which forces the kid to be passed around several different family/team members throughout the day as each gets called away to deal with their respective event… and lian loves it…

I'm not usually the one to suggest the ideas on here so I don’t know how decent these will be - but they’re all that's coming to me for now - if they don’t spark anything, just send me another message… alternatively, there’s some really great ideas and observations from people amongst my #askbox messages on here that might spark some inspiration instead… that is if you fancy exploring the vast jumble of content that’s on here - it’s a bit chaotic but there really are some amazing concepts to be found!

Anyway, I hope this could help in some way and you regain your writing spark soon - if you do, feel free to tag/message me or whatever - I’d love to see what you create!

LB

#thanks anon! #hope this helps #ask box #my response #yj prompts #young justice #yj

[captainelliecomb]

Ten Most Recent Fics Meme

Killing time before a delayed flight. Found this via @nossbean​.

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway

Not tagging anyone, but I hope some of you do it anyway.

All but one are Jaime x Brienne.

My takeaway from it: I need to: write more monster fucking, space aus, and weird west stories, and finish the Quest fic.

Jaime Lannister and the Quest for the Missing Sword

Summary: "You told me you found Tarth." Jaime narrowed his eyes at Tyrion. "Here, in the frozen North. You mock me still."The woman jerked. Her expression was easily readable for a moment. Surprise. Fear. Hope?It was gone before he could decide.Tyrion looked between them. "Sweet brother," he said in that knowing tone. "I present to you Brienne, the last of the Tarths."

Archaeologist and librarian AU of a sort. My first story with Jaime POV chapters. I love writing Brienne’s POV, but dual POVs worked best here. Trying to wrap this up soon.

Smoke and Mirrors

Summary: Jaime was a feast for the senses.

Modern AU. I have notes on a much longer chefs AU, but I had to cut it back because of the word limit on the exchange. The longer version will be written eventually.

Winter Knights and Spring

Summary: They were winter knights still living for the spring.

Book canon. I wanted to write something sweet and fluffy. I think it worked.

Tell Me a Story

Summary: Tarth has its fair share of ghost stories. The drowned, ships of the dead, sweet songs luring men out to sea.

Book canon. I love the idea of Brienne singing for Jaime when she never allowed herself to sing for Renly or Cat. What better place to write it than in a story about stories and songs. Shame I don’t actually write songs, or I would have included one.

Never Easy Prey

Summary: The sun was almost gone by the time she made it to the source of the glint, a long, narrow metal box. Unlocked. Easy to open. Inside, a small pack filled with packets of pureed something. Food, from what she'd seen elsewhere, but there was no telling what went into it. Water. A spear taller than she was and surprisingly light. The inside of the lid was completely covered in writing. Most symbols she had never seen before. One short line looked Yautja. And a human word. English word. Run.

Alien vs. Predator, Scar x Alexa Woods. I didn’t notice quite how far I’d gone into the Jaime x Brienne rabbit hole until I saw this was the only non-JxB fic I wrote since 2021. There isn’t even any monster fucking in it!

Oh So Easy, Oh So Hard

Summary: Riverrun is their beginning.

Show canon AU of a sort. One of the prompts was to write the 8x04 scene in a different setting, and I ran with it. I obsessively listened to one song per chapter, which I’m not sure I’ve done before.

Finest, Furthest, Most Unknown Edge

Summary: For the rest of her days, Brienne will never know what causes the crash. All she wants, more than her own survival, is for the Stark girls to be safe. Instead, they're trapped on an alien planet filled with unknown danger. Then she finds the man, bound, and battered, and broken. The biggest threat may not be the planet itself but whatever horrors follow a fallen Lannister.

Space AU. I love space aus. This is one of the few I’ve written. I should do another. 

Come Over and Make Up My Mind

Summary: Five times Brienne swears it's the very last time...

Modern AU. The prompt was “Conflicted”, one of the few Halestorm songs I’d never heard before. Quite enjoyed going back to my writing roots. All porn all the time.

Drink Deep

Summary: Murderer. Monster. Man without honour. She loves him, all of him, even so.

Vampire western AU. Technically monster fucking, though I rarely count vampires in that. Do love a good weird west au.

Here We Go to War

Summary: War to the east, the Dragon queen and her foreign armies come to take back the Seven Kingdoms with fire and blood and demand the North bend the knee.

War to the south, the Lannister queen took her throne in wildfire and the blood of innocents and demands the head of Sansa Stark.

War to the north, beyond the Wall, the Night King and his army of the dead demand nothing but death.

War comes for them all.

In the middle, two tired knights try to protect the ones they love and the ones to whom they're sworn.

Show AU. Jaime leaves Cersei after she blows up the Sept and things escalate from there. As did the story. Started as one scene, a love confession in a bath, and ended up going on for nearly 50,000 words.

#jaime x brienne #alexa woods x scar #fic

[surrealsunday]

So, I used to be really involved in the skam fandom, and your fics were my absolute favorite, but I kind of fell out of the fandom, and then shortly after, I just stopped reading skam fic. I will say, I held onto yours for the longest, but I did eventually stop reading. So, I haven’t really checked your blog or anything over the last few years, but I was just in the kiseki: dear to me tag, and I saw that you’d been tagged in a post, and my immediate thought was “JAIME???”. It honestly felt a little bit like a worlds collide moment. I don’t even know why, because obviously it was mlm content then, and it’s still mlm content now, but it like blew my mind for a second. Anyway, all this to say, I’m glad you’re still around, and I’m glad you’re still writing. I’m gonna go read your prapaisky fic now! 😆

Omg that is so amazing!!! I love it so much!!! It's so funny to be part of one another's world back in the very beginning of me existing in fandom and then you find me again! I love that you sent me a message! I'm here sometimes and I'm not tbh. I'll randomly pop up and be super active and then I'll disappear for 500 years 😂. Just the nature of my life and job at the moment. But PrapaiSky are my babies! I hope you love that fic!!! And thank you so much for dropping me a note ❤️❤️❤️

[onthesandsofdreams]

In Dreams [14/?]

Pairing: SanSan Summary: For a moment, Sansa doesn't move. She feels like she's frozen on the spot, until... Words: 1243 Tagging: @mousedetective

Read @ AO3

For a moment, Sansa doesn't move. She feels like she's frozen on the spot, until...

"Sansa, is that you?" Sandor's voice sounds thick and raspy from disuse.

That is what brings her back to the moment and she rushes forward. She takes one of Sandor's hands, forgetting that they're not alone and says. "I'm here, Sandor. You are safe, we found you."

"You did," Sandor rasps.

She swallows the knot at her throat, blinks back the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes and nods. Then, she looks at Sam, "Sam, could you go back to the house? I think Sandor might need some sport drink and water." She knows better than to ask Gendry, because he is very protective of not only Arya, but of her too. She's thankful and she considers him family.

Sam nods, "In the fridge or the pantry?"

"In the fridge, I think Sandor could do with some cool drink." And Sam leaves to do her bidding. Then, she turns back to Sandor. "These are my sister, Arya and her boyfriend, Gendry. Sam is a friend of our brother Jon. Don't worry, I trust them and they'll help us a lot."

Sandor nods then groans, "Aye, thank you. My body feels stiff, but not overly so, how curious." He stops and looks at Sansa, "As if I had been asleep for a while and now I'm finally awake."

"Do you... do you think you can move?" She asks.

Before he tries anything, Sandor looks at Arya and Gendry, who are both wide eye at a respectful distance. "Thank you for your help, I will not soon forget it." Then, he turns back to her and lifts a hand. "Aye, it seems like I can move, Sansa."

She smiles, "Surely, there must be something in the book of Qyburn that explains it. Can you sit?"

Sandor's hands came to rest on the sides of his coffin, and she watched as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath... and pulled himself upwards. Only for one of his hands to shoot backwards in an attempt to prevent him from falling back into a laying position. She and Gendry rushed forward, helping Sandor support himself.

"Wow, you're really tall," Arya broke the silence. "And as exciting as it was knowing that Sans had a haunted house, I'm glad you're alive, dude."

Sandor twisted to look at Arya. "Thank you, Lady Stark."

Arya snorts. "I'm not a lady. I'm just Arya. Call me that."

"As you wish... Arya."

"And as Sansa said," Gendry intervened. "I'm Gendry, I'm a jeweler. Sansa showed me the necklace, hope you don't mind."

"I don't," Sandor rasped. "Thank you for your help, Gendry. You look like someone I used to know."

Gendry patted Sandor's shoulder. "Welcome, man. And thank, I guess."

A moment later, Sam returned with two sports drinks and a bottle of water and a ham and cheese sandwich. "Here you go, Sandor. These drinks will probably be too sweet for you, I'm not sure you consumed such sweet things back then, but they will help you." Then turned to her and showed her the sandwich, "Hope you don't mind, Sansa. But I thought he could use one before we got him into the house."

She smiled at Sam, "I don't mind at all. Thank you for thinking of food, Sam."

She watched as Sandor took the offered sports drink, inspecting the blue color, then he took a small sip. Sandor's blinked, "Aye Sam, it's sweet," he took another sip. "But I don't mind too much. And thank you for your help."

Sam grinned, "You're welcome, Sandor. Now, how about we read that journal and see what Qyburn did?"

She passed her lamp to Sam and gave the go ahead, as Gendry and Arya drew closer. None of them wanted to miss this.

Sam cleared his throat and began to read:

5th of the Tenth month of the year. Lord Jaime, in this journal you will find the information necessary to make sure Sir Clegane awakens well. For all I have done is simply place him in a limbo between life and death.

You may think of this as a halfway sleeping, halfway awake.

What I noticed as I was treating Sir Clegane is that he is surprisingly strong. And that he is a good conduit for magic. So all I had to do was perform the sleeping spell. His wound will have the necessary time to heal, for I treated it well as soon as I was called into doing so.

The reason why you must keep Sir Clegane in your land, is that this particular land is brimming with magic. You were most fortunate in acquiring it, and the closer that Sir Clegane is to the ground, all the better. I have used the magic to make sure he sleeps undisturbed, and I have sealed his coffin well until that time when you are able to wake him.

Lord Jaime, do not forget that you need the signet ring to make sure it opens and wakes him.

- Maester Qyburn.

Silence reigned for a while, only for Sandor to break it. "Of all the horrid things Qyburn could have done, this is one of the lesser evils." he said softly. "And I find that I'm not terribly angry at Jaime for allowing this." He then looked around and noticed the amount of chests around him, he frowned. "And what are those?"

She cleared her throat, calling Sandor's attention back to her. Taking Sandor's empty bottle in her hand, "It seems that either Jaime or Brienne put treasures for when you awoke."

If anything, Sandor's frown deepened and he took a bite of the sandwich which he washed over with more sport drink. "I would not have expected that." He said. "And this food is delicious. I'm getting used to the sugar in the drink too."

"Good," she said.

"I would have not thought of Jaime or Brienne to make sure I had things for when I awoke." Sandor looked around. "Those are much more than what I would have expected. Did... did they not had children?"

She and Sam exchanged a look, "I think Jaime died before they could," she told Sandor softly. She watched as Sandor closed his eyes. "So, that might be why there is so much."

Sandor opened his eyes and looked up to where the sun was coming down from the whole they had made. "Sansa, I think I would like to go back to the world of the living."

She drew closer as did Gendry, "Stand when you're ready and we'll go upwards."

Sandor took several deep breaths and in a flash, he pushed himself to his feet. She and Gendry rushed when they saw him sway, but he remained on his feet. And he exited his coffin. "I think I can do this."

She rushed to his side. "Arya, lead on."

Her sister understood and she went up the stair, followed by Sam. She went after, Sandor closely following her behind and Gendry close their tail. Sandor closed his eyes when the bright sun hit them.

She came to his side, "Take your time," she whispered.

"Give me a moment," Sandor said. It took a while, but slowly he was able to open his eyes. For the first time in centuries, Sandor looked at the world.

Taking his hand in hers, she said, "Welcome back, Sandor."

#sansan #sansa x sandor #sansa stark #sandor clegane #samwell tarly #arya stark #gendry waters #asoiaf fic #asoiaf #au: modern westeros #multipart: in dreams

[peachy-panic]

WHUMPTOBER DAY 3: “WHO DID THIS TO YOU?”

This is the next chronological piece of Do No Harm, continued directly from this chapter.

Tag list: @whumpervescence  @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump

WARNINGS: Medical procedures, referenced/implied noncon, slavery setting, the usual.

The young doctor seems a bit skittish and far less cruel than the other Facility employees, and that comes with the dangerous notion that perhaps he doesn’t plan on hurting him. But that notion requires a naivety of which Jaime is no longer capable. He, of all people, is aware that cruelty can disguise itself in many shapes and sizes. Just because it isn’t obvious doesn’t mean it isn’t there, and that only makes it all the more dangerous.

There’s no use in hoping either way, he decides. Dr. Tate will either hurt him or he won’t, will either touch him or he won’t, and Jaime can’t — won’t — react. He has already made that mistake once today and will certainly pay for it later in ways he doesn’t want to think about now. He would do well to remember that he doesn’t hold any power here. Not in this room, this building, this life. And that, despite any arbitrary written rules, Dr. Tate is free to do as he pleases. 

At least he had removed the restraints from his mouth and wrists. Jaime can console himself with this small mercy. 

Those had always been the worst part of nights with Mr. Torley, on the all-too-frequent occasions he decided to use them. He was clearly very into them, and even more into Jaime’s fear of them. In addition to the claustrophobia they stoked in him, the use of restraints in bed had always felt something like a mockery. What use was it to restrain someone who can’t fight back regardless? The binds on his wrists and ankles were nothing more than accessories. The shackles in his mind did all the work to keep him still. And Mr. Torley knew that.

He does his best not to think about that now. Not to think about Mr. Torley at all, since that was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Distantly, he wonders how long the influence of his first Keeper will continue to stain Jaime’s existence beyond the termination of their six-month contract.

Dr. Tate, who has been buried in the cabinets above the sink for several minutes, turns back to him sporting bright-blue gloves that adhere tightly around his slender hands. He meets Jaime’s eyes for half a second before his gaze darts somewhere just to the left of his shoulder. 

“We need to run a couple of tests,” he says in a detached, clinical voice, all notes of lightheartedness from earlier removed. “I’ll need to collect some samples from you.”

Jaime nods once in acknowledgement, squeezing his fingers tightly, unconsciously around the edge of the table. There’s an unnatural pause in his cadence, and Jaime when looks up, he watches a slight twitch of movement in the doctor’s jaw. 

“Please remove your pants and underwear,” Dr. Tate says, his voice taking on a lower pitch. “You can leave them on up to your thighs, if you’d like.”

The slight shift in demeanor sets Jaime on edge, but he doesn’t hesitate at the command, even as a familiar panic claws at the inside of his throat. He drops forward from the table, his legs taking his weight. His thumbs hook the waistband of the thin, cotton pants he had been returned in, and he doesn’t allow himself a moment of hesitation before pushing them unceremoniously off his hips. He takes Dr. Tate up on his merciful offer to keep them partially on his body. The cold, sterile air inside the clinic is sharp against his exposed skin.

Jaime’s eyes find the ceiling as he prepares for the touch he knows is coming. He doesn’t look to see whatever tools and instruments Dr. Tate is laying out on the silver tray beside the exam table. He doesn’t have to. “We need to run a couple of tests.”  Whatever foolish hypotheticals Jaime once held in regards to WRU — what they did and didn’t know about the treatment of their wards — had long been shattered. 

Of course they needed to test him for sexually transmitted diseases. They can’t have a Domestic Companion spreading something to the next paying customer that buys their time and exposing their innocent charade. 

There’s a pause in Dr. Tate’s movement, but Jaime doesn’t look away from his spot on the ceiling tile.

“I’m going to touch you, now.” Dr. Tate’s voice is low and measured. “I need to examine you for bumps or sores, any abnormalities.” He clears his throat. “And I’ll take a swab from your urethra. It might be uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt you.” Another pause. “Please, tell me if it does.”

Jaime’s grip on the table tightens, but he otherwise doesn’t react. Distantly, he is grateful for the warning, the bare explanation, mortifying as it is. He knows that the doctors here are not obligated to explain anything to the Companion patients, to seek consent in any form. Their consent was implicitly given in the contracts they signed at intake. He just as easily could have left Jaime gagged and bound to the table and gone about the procedure without so much as a word to him. Jaime is glad he hadn’t. 

Instead, Dr. Tate’s touch is light and professional. His gloved hands don’t linger, they don’t poke and prod to get a reaction from him. It seems, even, that he touches him as little as possible. Almost as if he is as eager to get this over with as Jaime is, which doesn’t feel quite possible. 

The fluorescent strip of light next to his focal point on the ceiling burns at the edge of his vision, but he doesn’t look away, using the mild discomfort as an anchor to hold himself steady. He concentrates on that instead of the gentle touches, gritting his teeth against any traitorous urges his body might provoke. Mr. Torley had loved that about Jaime — his responsiveness to touch — but not as much as he loved using it against him. 

His stomach sours at the memory, fresh humiliation creeping into his cheeks at the idea of something similar happening now. He doesn’t think Dr. Tate would tease him the way his Keeper had, but he still doesn’t relish the idea of becoming physically aroused in front of this young doctor, who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than him and, in another life, Jaime might have found pretty. 

The thought is gone almost as soon as it comes, too painful to linger on. The idea of another life. A normal life. A life at all. These are thoughts Jaime is forbidden to have. The phantom sting of an electric shock lights up the column of his throat and Jaime winces.

“Sorry,” Dr. Tate said quickly, misunderstanding the movement and withdrawing his hand. Jaime’s eyes finally fall to his as the doctor takes a step back, inserting the long swab into a glass tube and sealing it with a cap. “The worst part is over.”

Jaime is numb all over, but he nearly laughs. He knows that having stepped foot in this facility again, the “worst part” has not even begun. 

“I’ll need to collect another sample from your mouth,” Dr. Tate continues, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, and Jaime absently wonders why they even bother wasting extra product on the patients here. “And we’ll draw some blood—” 

Something catches his voice mid-sentence and Jaime’s eyes flick up to his again. Dr. Tate looks at him, and then pointedly, hurriedly away. Jaime swears he can see his pale cheeks reddening.

“You can— We’re finished with that part.” He stumbles out. “Feel free to cover yourself up.”

Jaime does as he’s told, finding it somewhere within himself to be grateful that the doctor had kept the procedure professional. He couldn’t say the same thing for every encounter he’d had in the facility clinic before. 

********

Sebastian knows what happens next, and that’s why he finds himself taking his time with the rest of the visit. As soon as he’s completed the mandated intake exam, he is supposed to mark the patient as cleared in his chart and alert the handlers to come collect him. To take him back into the part of the facility where Sebastian has never set foot; the “residential” wing where the unclaimed Companions are housed between contracts. On all the promotional advertisements, it’s depicted as a dormitory-like accommodation. Now that Sebastian knows just how little truth exists behind their lies, he can only imagine it’s nothing of the sort. 

His mind conjures images of iron-barred cells and concrete rooms, of medieval dungeons with chains and darkness and filth. It’s a sensationalized version of what he assumes is probably the truth, but that doesn’t mean the reality is any less horrible. After what he’s seen in his time here and everything he’s heard, he has no doubt that the people who are forced to reside here between Keepers are subject to the company’s own brand of horror. Frankly, he’s in no hurry to turn his patient back over to their hands a moment sooner than he has to.

The boy is silent and entirely pliable throughout the whole exam, allowing himself to be moved when necessary and not so much as flinching when the needles for the blood draw break his skin. Sebastian is glad when the more… invasive parts of the exam are over. The boy had been no less compliant during them, maybe even the opposite, but Sebastian hadn’t missed the subtle changes in his posture, the way the muscles in his hands clenched and released around the edge of the table as he touched him as little as possible. 

He had looked up at the ceiling instead of at the wall behind Sebastian, as he had done previously, and Sebastian had silently prayed that the position wasn’t intended as a way to hold back tears. He doesn’t know how he could live with himself if he made this kid cry.

When the blood has been drawn, the test samples submitted for lab processing, and a full physical performed, Sebastian has run out of ways to delay the inevitable. He closes out of the boy’s patient profile on his screen and turns to him, hands folded professionally in front. 

“I’ll need to alert the handlers that your intake exam is complete,” he told him, probably unnecessarily. He hadn’t looked to see how long he had been in the system, but from his behavior, he assumes it’s been long enough to break his spirit. He probably knows these protocols better than Sebastian ever wants to. “They’ll come and escort you back to the residential quarters.”

110750 nods once without looking at him. “Thank you,” he says flatly. Then, there is a moment of pause before he lifts his eyes and seems to level Sebastian with something more sincere. “Thank you for… for letting me get cleaned up.”

Sebastian feels like shattering into pieces all over the cold linoleum. Instead, he tries for a smile and lands somewhere in the realm of a tight, thin line at his lips. “Sure,” he says, a bit mortified to hear the crack in his voice. 

He watches 110750 take slow, measured breaths as Sebastian makes the call he desperately wishes he didn’t have to make. He tries not to stare as they wait in tense silence for the handlers to arrive. Of course, Sebastian could leave the room if he wants. The intake procedure is done, and so is his minimal obligation to patient care. But something feels wrong about leaving him. More than that, something feels utterly wrong about this boy being taken out of the clinic, away from his line of sight, where he can’t see what will happen next. He only knows it won’t be good. 

A split second before he hears the clinic doors whoosh open, Sebastian steps closer to his patient, lowering his voice to a quick, urgent whisper. “Keep an eye on that broken nose,” he advises. “If you have any trouble breathing as it heals, please don’t hesitate to let your assigned handler know that you need medical attention, okay?”

The boy hitches in a breath but doesn’t respond. Sebastian takes half a step closer. 

“Look, you have a right to medical assistance,” he says, the words feeling like treason on his tongue despite knowing their written truth. “Even here. Even now. You can always come see me here if you need to. They can’t legally prevent you from requesting care. Do you understand?”

Unexpectedly, something dark flashes in the boy’s eyes. Something less like the fear and dread he had witnessed earlier, and something much more akin to anger. Anger at Sebastian?

Before the interaction can go any further, they are interrupted by the unceremonious swing of the exam room door. The same two men who had brought him in - one with a fresh bandage on his face - push their way in, stepping between Sebastian and his patient. 

“Up you go, 7-5-0,” Handler Hernandez barks, and the boy is on his feet before he can finish the command, his hands behind his back, head bowed. 

“Oh, look who finally decided to behave,” the other one - Smith, maybe? - taunts as he sizes him up in a way that makes even Sebastian’s skin crawl. Just as he had prior to the visit, the man shifts his gaze to him, a sneer permanently embedded into his expression. “Does he get a lollipop for good behavior? Maybe a sticker?”

The boy doesn’t look up at him, but Sebastian thinks he sees his throat move. He feels a swell of rage rise into his throat, coming to a boiling point for the second time since he entered the room with this boy, but he swallows it back, keeping as level an expression as he can manage. 

“He was perfectly agreeable,” he responds tightly, refusing to play into whatever mockery he’s initiating. 

Smith answers him with a dismissive snort, turning his attention back to the boy like a predator who just found fresh meat. “What do you say, sweetheart?” He asks, the thick rubber of his boots squeaking against the tile as he takes a step too far into the boy’s personal space. “Think we can go the easy way back, or would you prefer to do things the hard way again?”

The beat of silence in the room is painful as they await his response, which comes eventually in a subdued voice, through slightly gritted teeth and with his eyes on the floor. “The easy way. Sir.”

A snort from Hernandez breaks the tension. “Yeah,” he says. “We’ll see about that.”

With that, he is escorted from the room and seems to take with him all the air in Sebastian's lungs. Naively, desperately, he hopes for the briefest moment of eye contact before he’s taken away from him. But his eyes stay downward, even as a large hand curls around his bicep and makes him stumble in his gait as he’s yanked forward. Sebastian watches helplessly as he disappears from sight, one singular thought slicing through his mind on a loop:

Who did this to you?

#whumptober2021 #slavery #whump #like bbu adjacent? #Do No Harm: Jaime & Sebastian #medical setting #referenced noncon

[anotherlocallesbian]

is this the third time i’ve done this? yeah. it is.

this is just for fun using a combination of other fancasts i’ve seen and people i love, feel free to disagree but always be kind <3

I used to have Michael Cimino as Alex, and I still wouldn’t be mad if he was the one to land the role, but I dunno he seems a little too…soft (??) for Alex?? like i love him in love, victor but Alex is just such a big character. I honestly haven’t watched anything Conor has been in (although the iCarly reboot is on my very long list of things to watch) but I saw his name tossed around in the tag and I like his vibes so here we are. I do think he may be too tall. realistically I would love it if our Alex and/or Henry were someone totally new but for the purposes of this fancast i went with conor husting.

june to me has always been isabella gomez. i fell in love with her in one day at a time and i think she could play june beautifully. the only problem i have with her is that her skin is maybe too light for june since both her and alex are described as not white passing. but we know she can play the smart, protective older sister and i mean look at her — she’s a ray of sunshine.

now in a perfect world there would be an open audition for nora and i would somehow magically land the role and go on stephen colbert and talk about how i went from teaching 12 year olds in a small town in the middle of nowhere to playing my favorite character in a movie adaptation of my favorite book but i do not foresee that happening. there are multiple people i wouldn’t mind seeing as nora, but i ended up going with lee rodriguez. i love zendaya but i still think it would be funny to have her make a cameo as “spider-man girl” during the new years party. i love lee’s character in “never have i ever,” and i think there are quite a few similarities between the characters. nora is more confident though, but i 100% think she could pull it off. also side note but nora’s little monologue she has when alex asks her if he’s bi would be perfect for the movie trailer. yes this book/movie takes up like 90% of the space in my brain what about it.

connie britton with a southern accent would actually kill me. i would be deceased. she is ellen claremont. you can not change my mind. i do think reese witherspoon could be a good ellen but right now she’s too young. if this movie doesn’t come out for another 4-5 years i would put her down but she still looks so young. with that being said though if the official cast came out and reese was ellen i would not be throwing a fit as i have been obsessed with reese since i watched legally blonde for the first time as a kid.

i personally have not seen any of jaime camil’s work, but a lot of people say he would be a good oscar and i mean look at that photo? he’s got my vote.

there is no other option for luna. look at that picture. that is rafael luna.

i originally had kerry washington as my zahra but i thinks she may be a little too old. at least she’s a little too old to be with he guy i have casted as shaan. so i went with emmy raver-lampman. and i will admit this may be biased as i love emmy and want to see her in like everything (i also put her in my all-female great comet cast lol).

amy was harder to cast as the list of trans actors of asian decent i knew was at 0 before this. i really really hope when they do officially cast this movie they have amy played by an actual trans actress and stay true to the book character, but i am preparing myself to be disappointed. they can’t say their aren’t any though, as ivory aquino is literally right there.

yes chris evans is a big name and cash isn’t a huge role and yes you don’t want to cast a big name as a secondary role so i guess i just want someone chris evans-esque as cash. but i mean look at that picture — the dark sunglasses, the coat — now imagine him standing outside buckingham palace while alex yells at henry’s window. you can’t tell me you don’t see it.

i love ted danson, hes a great guy really, but the suits and super white hair just scream richards to me. is there an age range mentioned for richards? like obviously he has to be at minimum 35 to be running for president but i hear republican and i just imagine some 50 year old white man.

liam is brandon flynn. i dont really know why, he just fits the vibes, has the look. and he’s gay in real life, which is a plus since i dont know if either the alex or henry i have picked out are gay. which ideally i would also like at least one of them to actually be gay.

speaking of henry! i originally had george mckay as my henry and i still would not be mad about him playing henry but after seeing froy’s comment on the post about the director it made me go 👀. also unless if the movie comes out like...next year george mckay may be a little too old as i think hes 28 or 29, but he doesnt look it.

i still stand by emma mackey as bea. look at her in that blue ensemble bein all cute lookin royal and badass af. she will always be who i see in my mind when i read the book. HOWEVER. you will not hear me throwing a fit if florence pugh got the role of bea. i absolutely love florence and think she would nail the role, but emma is still my number 1.

NCUTI GATWA IS THE ONLY PERSON ALLOWED TO PLAY PEZ. this is the only one where im like “if this person does not play this part i will be disappointed.”

i do not know how it took me so long to figure out that gillian anderson would make a great catherine but im glad i finally came to this conclusion. ive seen a couple people cast her as ellen but i think she would be a great catherine. plus she looks more like she could be froy and emma’s mom than conor and isabella’s mom.

okay. again. david tennant is probably too big a name for this role, so someone david tennant-esque would be fine too.

dame maggie smith remains my queen mary. i would love to see her in this film but i also just love maggie smith and everything she does so.

rahul kohli will always be shaan in my heart. literally imagine him and emmy as shaan and zahra... a POWERHOUSE DUO. look at that sharp suit, he is the human embodiment of class. which is exactly how i picture shaan.

im a lesbian and i love lily james next question.

i very intentionally selected this not-super-flattering picture of theo james bc i wanted to use pictures that also fit the characters they’re playing. i know henry is supposed to be taller than philip, and im not sure how tall froy is in comparison to theo james (yes i could google it but its past my bedtime and im tired). but he and lily james do look like they would be a very basic, respectable royal couple that alex could poke fun at.

yeah that’s all i got for now. maybe this sucks, maybe you love it, im not married to any of it (except ncuti gatwa as pez). i just did this for fun because i love this book, am very excited for the movie, and needed something to do that wasn’t related to work 🤪.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #casey mcquiston #fancast #rwarb #rwrb movie #rwarb movie #rwrb fancast #rwarb fancast #book to film #alex claremont diaz #hrh prince henry #erin rambles

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

The Last Dragon | The Witcher

Chapter 17 | A Tale of Dragons

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Targaryen!OC

Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.

Warnings: Soft Visenya being soft with Geralt and children

Word Count: 5.6k

Note: Click here to read the previous chapters ♡ Also! My tag list is open!

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Three.

Four.

She counts out each second, blade in hand as she moves along to her quiet muttering. Each step is like a dance, careful and practiced, as she leaves footprints in the dampened dirt. Every breath is even and quiet, inhaling on the beat and then exhaling on the offbeat. If her movements are a dance, then her breathing and counting is the song she sways to.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

She spins in time with the crescendo to the imaginary music. Her blade slicing through the air, steel whistling in the wind. But it isn’t uncontrolled. She maintains a firm grip on her blade, manipulating how it moves and where. She’s in a trance, captivated by the breeze on her bare skin and the symphony in her head. It’s not the rigorous and disciplined sword training she’s used to, that’s been hammered in her mind from the day she first held a sword. Instead, it’s lighter and freer, her sword becoming an extension of herself rather than a tool she uses separately from her.

“What are you doing?” a small voice says.

The music silences and her movements stop. She lowers the blade to face the ground rather than outward and turns, eyes falling to the ground. A small elven boy stares up at Visenya, curiosity, and wonder gleaming in his wide green eyes,

“Practicing,” she says, staring down at the small boy, no discernable emotion on her face. Despite the bluntness of her words and the blank expression on her face, the boy isn’t deterred.

“Can I try?”

She recognizes him as Rohir, the little boy that got knocked unconscious by the skeevy bandit Visenya killed. Within a few hours of making camp, he woke, restless and unable to stay in one spot for too long, much to the chagrin of his mother.

The corners of her lips twist into a look of amusement, eyes faintly twinkling in the dim light. He’s small, not much smaller than she had been the first time she held a sword - albeit a wooden one. She remembers faint memories of training yards and practice dummies at the Capitol; holding weapons too large for her, whilst onlookers simply ignored her, except for Ser Jaime. He stuck close to Visenya when he could, whether out of a sense of duty or genuine enjoyment, she never knew. As the years go on, she leans toward the latter, but a small part of her still hopes it was genuine liking.

A grin slowly creeps onto Rohir’s face, the prospect of sword training making his entire face light up with anticipation.

“No.” One word, two letters; that’s all it takes. The grin on his face and the sparkle in his eyes immediately disappear, leaving no trace of ever being there. Instead, a scowl overcomes his young features, his hands crossing over his chest. Visenya can’t help the snort that leaves her mouth, only further infuriating the boy.

“Why not?” His voice is petulant, a faint lisp following each letter.

“You’re too small. You’ll only hurt yourself,” she says, a hint of amusement in her otherwise deadpan tone.

“Says you!” he responded, fire and frustration coating each word.

“Says me,” Visenya mimics his words, lacking any of the heat that he possesses.

“But I’m really good!” Rohir exclaims.

She sheathes her blade, turning away from Rohir, eyes focusing on Geralt. He’s sitting on the ground, back against the trunk of a tree that���s on the other side of the camp. He sits so he’s not in the immediate line of sight, but at a vantage point that he can still see everything.

“I am sure you are,” Visenya says, a slight smirk on her lips. Ice cold leaves crack under the weight of her feet as she moves towards Geralt. Her walk is loose and casual, not a tense bone in her body.

“So why won’t you let me hold your sword?” He follows closely behind her, a furious storm, but his anger only furthers Visenya’s amusement.

“Because, you’re too small, and my sword is too big,” Visenya responds. She’s halfway to Geralt, standing in the center of the camp. Rohir huffs an argument on the tip of his tongue, only to be cut off by Amaria.

“Rohir! Come here, En'ca minne,” He loudly inhales only to sigh a moment later. Visenya hears his feet stomping into the dirt as he walks away. Quiet laughter follows Visenya as she closes the remaining distance between her and Geralt.

His eyes don’t move to meet hers; not when her feet appear in his peripheral vision nor when she joins him on the ground and her shoulder faintly brushes against his.

She says nothing and neither does he. Gold eyes focus on the flurry of movement and noises that fill the clearing. It’s more lively and happy than it had been only four hours ago. Amaria switches between tending to her still unconscious husband, only bearing to leave his side when she has to chase around one of her children who are acting up. The two youngest - Elana and Vyron - squeal in glee, chasing each other around without a care in the world. As their forms zip past Visenya she hears faint wisps of their conversation. They’re acting out a grand tale brimming with adventure and happy endings. They’re so free and untouched by the tragedy that was gripping at their feet, begging to pull them under its desolate claws.

She remembers those days. When she’d run around Winterfell like a feral animal, unblemished by the fate of her family. The horrors she was able to bury so deep in her mind they felt more like distant nightmares rather than reality, the box only unlocking when she grew old enough to understand that more than just silver hair separated her from the Starks.

More often than not she wishes she could go back, to be protected by the naivety of childhood.

“I didn’t take you as a fan of children?” Geralt’s voice pulls her from her thoughts. She glances over at him, the small smile that managed to slowly creep onto her face disappearing.

“Why?”

“They seem too loud, I thought you liked the quiet,” Geralt says. Visenya snorts, rolling her eyes. She returns her gaze to the clearing. Rohir sits beside his mother, a pout on his lips, still upset by Visenya's refusal to train him. Elana and Vyron continue to whip through the clearing, with no sign of stopping any time soon.

“I do, but children aren’t terrible,” Visenya answers, watching as the two youngest stop in a portion of the clearing that’s the farthest from anyone. Elana is yelling, the words foreign to Visenya, but Vyron seems to understand her perfectly.

“Do you want any?”

Visenya shrugs, watching as the respite the two children have taken ends as they continue to run around the clearing. She’s never thought about the prospect of children. For most of her life it seemed inevitable; she would be married to some lord or another, bear his children, and then die at some point. But then the war happened, and everything about her life that seemed certain became undetermined.

Visenya opens her mouth, despite not actually having an answer for his question, but is cut off as Elana appears, jumping onto Visenya's lap. Her breath is temporarily lost, and before she can regain it, Vyron quickly follows, landing on the right side of her lap just as Elana moves herself to rest on the left.

Geralt grunts, watching the two rambunctious children with a wary gaze, praying to every god that may listen that they don’t decide to jump on him next.

“Do you have any stories?” Elana asks, her face beaming in the dim light. A wide smile makes its home on her face, wonder causing her wide eyes to nearly glow. Vyron’s expression mimics hers, but his face is softer and smaller, causing him to look more like an excitable puppy. It’s nearly identical to Rickon, who clung to Visyena’s leg as if his life depended on it.

‘How fitting that he’s now dead,’

The thought enters and leaves her mind before she can fully comprehend it. Mentally she clears her mind, opting to focus on the wide-eyed children in front of her.

“What an odd question to ask. Why do you believe me to have any tales to speak of?” Visenya asks.

“You’re an adventurer. Adventures always have tales,” Elana says, her tone not allowing for objections. Her words are fact and she seems set on not accepting any other truths. Vyron doesn’t speak but opts to enthusiastically nod his head in agreeance with his older sister, a matching grin on his face.

“Do they now?” Visenya asks, tilting her head to the side.

“Yes,” Elana says, giving Visenya a single nod.

Laughter bubbles out of Visenya's mouth - the sound so light and sweet it captures the attention of Amaria and Rohir. She throws back her head and her eyes shut, the noise continues to resound in the camp. Geralt watches with less wariness, his face morphing into a less stern expression. On the opposite end of the camp, Amaria stands from her position, quickly making her way to the group of them, Rohir following behind her like a shadow.

“Elana, please, I’m sure the both of them would like to be left to silence,” she says, moving to grab her daughter. Elana’s posture slouches, the smile on her face falling ever so slightly. Visenya finally stops laughing, opening her eyes and looking towards Amaria.

“No, it’s quite alright,” Visenya says, shaking her head in disagreement as she adjusts to get in a more comfortable position. Amaria freezes in place, eyes darting between her children and Visenya as if she doesn’t actually believe the words she’s saying.

“As a matter of fact, I happen to have a tale that I know quite well, but it’s not one that I’ve experienced personally. Would you still like to hear it?” Visenya asks a playful grin resting on her features. Elana immediately perks up, nodding her head so enthusiastically it might’ve fallen off - Vyron following his sister's every movement.

“Yes, please please please,” Vyron and Elana immediately begin to plead, widening their eyes to achieve a more innocent and puppy dog appearance. Visenya’s eyes dart to Amaria, silently asking if it would be alright. The worry melts from Amaria’s face, posture relaxing as she grants Visenya a single nod.

She pauses for a second, racking her brain for a tale to tell that would be suited for an audience this age. She doesn’t think about it for long, a story she’s known since she could read words on a page immediately entering her mind.

“Let me tell you a story about dragons,” Visenya says. Elana and Vyron grow silent, waiting with bated breath for Visenya to continue. Rohir appears from behind his mother, a pout still present on his lips, eyes scowling at the dirt, but he continues forward, sitting right beside Visenya. He grabs a stick and begins tracing symbols into the dirt, refusing to make eye contact with anyone but the ground, attempting to maintain an air of disinterest.

“Many years ago, in a world far far away, there once was a city - Valyria they called it, and what a grand city it was. A place filled with wonder, magic, and dragons.”

Elana and Vyron gasp, audibly portraying their excitement. Rohir is more subtle, his ears only twitching slightly as his movements pause for a brief second. Visenya leans her head back, closing her eyes as she begins to bury herself in the stories she read a million times over, clutching that worn and torn book every night like it was the only thing keeping her on the ground. After a moment of silence and a deep breath, Visenya opens her eyes, staring straight ahead and into the fire that flickers a few feet away from them.

“It was a great city, managing to tame dragons they would ride into battle. They were fearsome and respected, managing to conquer large amounts of territories with their dragon fire. For 5,000 years Valyria was the capital of the greatest civilization, the heart of an empire that ruled half of the world. It was grand, but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, which leads into this story.”

The children are enraptured, eyes solely focusing on Visenya - even Rohir abandons his guise of not being interested in her tale. She doubts that Vyron is following the story, but his eyes are wide and mouth agape - growing more exaggerated each time she mentions‘<dragons>’. Elana is young, but her eyes are sharpened with intelligence that’s older than her as she seems to follow the story well.

Amaria no longer stands, opting to sit on the ground, opening her arms as Vyron crawls off of Visenya’s lap and onto his mothers. Visenya glances at Geralt, his eyes already on her, his gaze burning into her. Her mind stutters, fog momentarily taking over so she can no longer focus on anything. Eyes snap away, once again focusing on the fire to clear her mind.

“There were many great houses, one of them known as House Targaryen, with shining silver hair and amethyst purple eyes, the family held distinctive Valyrian features. Targaryens were believed to have a closer connection to their dragons, to understand them in a way the other dragonlords never would.”

“Because they had magic, right?” Elana says, her voice firm and sharp. Rohir turns to his sister, a pout on his lips as he shushes her. She turns to face him, a matching glare set on her face.

“If you wait, she’ll tell us,” he says. She huffs, an indignant look on her childish face.

“I just wanted to know!” Elana says.

“Well, you should just wait!” Rohir says, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Rohir, be nicer to your sister, she’s just excited,” Amaria says in a soft and soothing tone, diffusing the argument before it could get any worse.

“But--” Rohir says, but quickly grows silent when he receives a stern glare from his mother. He huffs, slouching his shoulders and looking towards the ground. Amaria sighs, looking at Visenya with a soft smile on her face. Visenya smirks, amusement glimmering in her eyes.

“But to answer your question, in a way they were magical. They didn’t have mages, but they had visions that would come in the form of dreams. The most notable of these came from Daenys the Dreamer, who saw the fall of Valyria.

“But they had dragons! What could beat dragons!?” Rohir says in disbelief, eyes wide in shock. Visenya turns to him, the smirk on her face turning into a knowing look that has Rohir ducking away from her gaze. She chuckles, a soft sound that is carried away by the sudden roar of the fire.

“They did, but dragons couldn’t save them from the natural disasters that tore through the city. Fire, ash, and smoke filled the air, managing to kill even the dragons.”

“So they all died?” Elana asks with a quiet and sad tone, a strong lisp following every vowel.

“All except House Targaryen, who because of Daenys’ dream went west to Dragonstone, an island far enough away from Valyria to escape the desolation,” Visenya says.

“What’s dissolution?” Vyron asks. Elana turns her head to look at him.

“I think it means the end,” Elana says.

“No, it means death. There was lots of death!” Rohir says, turning to face his siblings. Vyron just nods, whilst Elana cocks her head to the side, brows furrowing in thought.

“It’s when something is damaged beyond repair,” Amaria says. “Their homeland was destroyed, just as many homes to the elves have been.”

Visenya looks at Amaria, who meets her gaze. There’s a sadness in her eyes that Visenya didn’t notice before, but it’s familiar. It’s the same look she saw in Filavandrel’s eyes, and any other elf she met that day.

“But they brought dragons with them, right? The dragons weren’t all dead, right?” Rohir asks, breaking Visenya from her mild trance. Before she can answer him, Elana whips her head in his direction, a look of exasperation on her face.

“Of course! They were the best with dragons!” Elana exclaims.

“I was just asking!” Rohir yells back, straightening his posture and face contorting into a petulant expression.

“Well, why are you asking stupid questions?” Elana responds, turning away from Rohir to face Visenya and rolling her eyes. Visenya’s hand shoots up to her mouth, attempting to cover the grin on her face. It manages to muffle the small laughter that escapes her mouth, the noise escaping the notice of everyone except Geralt and Amaria - who looks at Visenya with exasperation in her eyes.

“There is no need for arguing,” Visenya says, looking pointedly at Elana with a single eyebrow raised. She at least has the decency to look sheepish, scrunching her nose and looking down at the ground.

“Sorry,” she mutters at the same time as Rohir.

“You are forgiven, shall we get back to the story?” Visenya asks, a slight smirk on her lips. Elana looks up at her through her lashes, nodding her head.

“Good. They did bring dragons with them - five to be exact. While the names of four have been lost to the ages, one name is known to everyone who knows of House Targaryen; Balerion the Black Dread. He was a massive dragon, who when he grew to full size, could black out entire towns as he passed over them, his wings large enough to cover the sun.” Visenya says. The children make various sounds of wonder, eyes wide and unblinking.

“What did they do next?” Rohir asks.

Visenya pauses, cocking her head slightly as she tries to recall. Her only source of knowledge concerning her family is an old book that had been buried in the depths of the library in Winterfell that was tattered and torn from continuous use by the time she marched off to war. It was vague at best, not offering any new or rare information about her house, therefore the time in between The Doom and Aegon’s conquest is blank.

“Well, House Targaryen made a home at Dragonstone, away from the war that ensued twelve years later when Valyria was destroyed. Nothing of note happened until roughly a hundred years later,” Visenya says.

“Well, what happened!?” Rohir exclaims.

“That would be a story for another day. I believe it is getting too late to begin another - much longer - tale,” Visenya says, glancing at Amaria. She stands from the ground, Vyron still firmly attached to her. She reaches a hand towards Elana, who groans, but takes her mother’s hand, getting off of Visenya’s lap. Rohir doesn’t voice his displeasure, opting to silently stand and move to stand beside his mother, but it’s clear on his face. His eyes aren’t as bright as they were when he was enraptured by Visenya’s story and his lips are pulled into a small pout.

“Visenya is right, it’s getting late and we have a long day of travel ahead of us. Let us give our saviors some quiet,” Amaria says, turning her gaze to Visenya and Geralt for a brief moment before herding her children to the other side of the clearing. “Now say goodnight.”

Three ‘goodnights’ resound all at once, in various tones and noise levels; Vyron gifting Visenya with a particularly toothy grin.

She smiles, unable to force away the action nor the laughter that escapes her mouth.

“Goodnight. I promise to tell you another tale tomorrow while we’re traveling,” Visenya says, earning a blinding grin from Elana and causing Rohir to immediately perk up.

“You promise?” Rohir says.

“Swear it on my life,” Visenya responds without missing a beat. He nods his head, turning and rushing across the clearing, eager to sleep the rest of the night away. Elana tears after him - yelling about racing him there. Vyron squirms in Amaria’s arms, the grin still on his face, but Amaria maintains her tight grip on him.

“To bed we go, Dilthen er,” Amaria says to Vyron and places a kiss on his cheek. She turns to give Visenya and Geralt, giving them one last warm smile before she turns to follow after her children. They all gather in one section close to the fire and near the sleeping body of Aldon. For a few moments restless chatter and light giggles come from the children as Amaria attempts to lull them to sleep with a soft lullaby. Eventually, the noise dies down as one by one they all fall asleep, leaving only Geralt and Visenya awake.

“An interesting tale,” Geralt says, after a moment of silence - once the children have all fallen asleep, Amaria shortly follows suit, leaving only Visenya and Geralt awake. Crickets chirp all around them, the low rustle of wind disturbing their melody occasionally.

“I thought so too,” Visenya says, bones cracking as she stretches her body out. She wraps her arms around the tree behind her as she reaches her arms behind her, slumping against the tree a moment later. She continues watching the fire as the flames that used to rise towards the night sky die out.

“Is it real?” Geralt asks. He’s looking at her, she always knows when he is. Something about the way his gold eyes linger on her is so distinct that she'll always know when a gaze is him, even if it seems impossible to know such a trivial thing. Nothing about a person’s gaze leaves any physical sensory that can be identified, and yet, never once has she been wrong about Geralt’s gaze.

“Supposedly. Although, I’m sure some details have been lost to the ages - some purposeful and some not. Books aren’t always incredibly accurate, stories are often skewed to the favor of the author,” Visenya says. She turns away from the fire to look at Geralt, locking eyes.

“Details you knew perfectly,” Geralt says. His tone isn’t accusatory, but she can hear the underlying question in his statement.

“When I was a little girl I had a book that I would read every day. It was the only comfort I had most days. That story was one of the many tales within the book,” Visenya says, a smile that can only be described as melancholic on her face. Geralt grunts, continuing to watch Visenya, but not saying anything further. His eyes are curious, hoping she’ll continue and say something that makes her less of a mystery. Yet he’s also not willing to press her for information she doesn’t want to share. That much they have in common: two people with too many secrets that are wrapped behind scars that they cover up with fury and rage. Because it’s easier to lose people if they were never allowed close to her to begin with. Life is safer when she keeps everyone at arm's length.

Visenya stares up at the night sky, watching the stars as the ambient sounds of soft snores and dream laced giggles resonate through the clearing. She swallows thickly, a lump beginning to form in her throat as her mind wanders farther and farther away.

“They were my ancestors,” Visenya says, shattering the silent air around them. Geralt doesn't move, doesn’t even breathe in fear that it might disrupt the trace that Visenya is in.

“House Targaryen, the Dragon Riders from Valyria that conquered the Seven Kingdoms.” She chuckles after the words leave her mouth, brows furrowing ever so slightly as her eyes briefly meet the dirt before returning to the stars.

“An impressive ancestry,” Geralt says, his gravelly tone unsure, the words fumbling nearly awkwardly out of his mouth.

“Yeah I suppose so,” Visenya says, voice sounding a million miles away as if she isn’t even physically only a few inches apart from Geralt.

“Better than my lineage, anyways,” Geralt continues, looking away from Visenya. He adjusts his body, resting against the tree more comfortably as his eyes scan the dark forest around them, wary of any threats that may linger just out of eyesight. Visenya’s lips curl into a bare smile, he whispers of a chuckle leaving her mouth as she languidly leans against the tree.

“The dragons were the most impressive part,” Visenya says, eyes fluttering shut, the hectic day finally catching up to her as her body grows wearier the quieter their camp grows.

“Maybe we should find you a dragon,” Geralt says, a smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eyes. Visenya snorts, opening a single eye to look at Geralt.

“This world couldn’t handle me with a dragon, Geralt of Rivia,” she says, shutting her eyes.

“That may be so, but I’d still pay good coin to see it.”

She laughs again, cautious to not be too loud in fear of waking up the camp. She opens her eyes, turning her head to face Geralt, meeting his gaze head-on. Their eyes lock, the beat of her heart steadily increasing the longer they maintain contact. A fluttering sensation fills her stomach, one that she’s almost entirely unfamiliar with. The tired smile on her face softens as Geralt’s lips curl into a similar grin.

“But could you imagine having a dragon,” Visenya says. “To ride on the back of one and feel the wind against your skin and to just...be free.” Her voice is far away again, as she dreams of fantasies she stopped having at some point between childhood and having to become an adult.

“Hmm, I imagine it’d be cold,” Geralt says, a teasing undertone in his otherwise deadpan voice. Visenya reaches out, pushing against his shoulder as another round of quiet laughter leaves her mouth.

“That is what warmer clothes are for,” she responds. “It would be foolish to climb onto a dragon unprepared anyways, lest you become its dinner.”

Geralt laughs, a quiet gravelly noise that nearly causes the ground around them to vibrate and it’s so contagious she can’t stop the bubbling of laughter that also leaves her mouth. Eyes shining and grin getting larger, Visenya watches Geralt's normally harsh and austere face grow softer the longer he laughs. He nearly looks like a child, despite the scars across his face - both fresh and faded - and the deep-set bags under his eyes from the lack of a good night’s rest. His voice is hoarser than usual, sleep and exhaustion weighing down his words causing them to slur together. But the way his eyes are alight and the sweet grin that tugs at the corner of his lips are adorable - a word not often associated with a man like Geralt, but Visenya wouldn’t describe him any other way.

“Stop, it was not even that funny,” Visenya says, and despite her attempt at sternness, laughter follows every word.

“I’m not laughing,” Geralt insists, and despite his best efforts at swallowing it, a small grin still rests on his face.

“Yes you are,” Visenya says.

“I think you’re hearing things, Vis. Perhaps it’s time for you to sleep,” Geralt says, moving his eyes to scan the camp. Her laughter immediately dies down as the smile on her face dims just the slightest, but Geralt seems unaware of the sudden shift in tone.

“What did you just say?” Her words are a whisper, nearly unheard by Geralt. He turns to look at her, the light grin on his face disappearing once he notices her expression.

“That you should rest,” Geralt answers.

“I heard, but what did you just call me?” Visenya says.

He pauses, eyes scanning the entirety of her face, focusing on the unreadable glint in her eyes and taking special note of the slight frown on her lips. But she doesn’t appear angry or sad or any of the other flurry of emotions he’s seen on her face in their travels.

“I called you Vis,” Geralt says after a moment of silence.

“Why?”

“Because Vis is shorter than Visenya,” Geralt says. “Should I not call you that?”

She inhales, quietly, eyes moving towards the dirt. It’s the nickname she’s had all her life. Robb, Jon, and everyone else always called her Vis. It was shorter and easier, they’d always tell her. She’d always argue her name isn’t even difficult to say, but they’d never agree and she’d never say how much she secretly enjoyed the name. It’s been so long since she’s ever heard anyone utter the nickname, it’s startling to hear it slip from someone's lips so effortlessly.

Then she exhales, an unknown weight lifting from her chest as she meets Geralt's gaze.

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard that nickname. I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” she says, lips curling into a shy smile. A small sparkle appears in her eyes. It’s not the fiery gold eerily similar to burning flames that sparks when she’s furious or the sly mischievous glint he’s familiar with. Nor is it a glassy look from tears that she’s trying her best to hold back when she’s drowning in sorrowful thoughts. It’s bright, but not painfully so. Instead it’s sweet and soft, like the first flower blossoming on the first day of spring or the soft wind after a harsh winter.

Geralt nods, his stiff features relaxing as the stress of inadvertently offending her dissipates.

“Now I have to think of a nickname for you,” Visenya says, a teasing smile slipping onto her face. Geralt groans and rolls his eyes, flashbacks of all of Jaskier's attempts at creating nicknames to call Geralt. Much to his chagrin, the White Wolf seemed to stick as his title that the general public knew him as, but Jaskier was determined for another one to call Geralt. And Visenya knows this, as she was there for every failed attempt.

“Please don’t,” he says, only causing Visenya to laugh harder. She quickly rests a hand over her mouth in an attempt to suppress the noise so as to not wake up the camp. But every time she glances at Geralt and sees how truly exasperated he appears.

“What about Ger. We’d be a pair: Ger and Vis; Vis and Ger,” Visenya says. “I should be a poet, did you hear that little rhyme I did?”

“Hmm, you’d give Jaskier a run for his coin,” Geralt responds.

She snorts a small smirk on her lips. Her thoughts wander to Jaskier, wondering what he could be up to and if he is still happy. He probably is, he could find fun in the dullest of affairs.

“As much as I hate to admit it, but I miss Jaskier,” Visenya says. This time it’s Geralt that snorts, an exasperated look crossing his face as he rolls his eyes.

“I can’t say I feel the same.”

“Don’t lie, Geralt. We all know he’s wiggled his way into your good graces, it’s just what he does. You’re annoyed and want nothing more than for him to leave and then one day, you enjoy the constant jokes and mindless prattling,” Visenya says. Geralt hums, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

She adjusts her body, attempting to get into a more comfortable position, eyes growing heavier as each second passes. The cool wind is soothing against her warm skin, the crickets a lullaby that pulls her closer to sleep.

“What about your ancestry? What family does The White Wolf come from,”

Silence washes over them. And just when Visenya thinks Geralt won’t answer, he does.

“My mother was a sorceress, that’s all I know about my family. She left me with the Witchers when I was young.” His voice is somber and low, quieter than the volume they’d been talking with earlier.

“Do you miss her?” Visenya asks. She’s cautious and careful, taking special care to not push Geralt. Once again she’s met with silence and after a few moments, it becomes obvious he’s not going to answer.

“I miss my mother. I can’t really remember her, but I have this… this void that her death left behind,” Visenya says. She sighs, glancing up towards the stars once again, using the wind to dry the tears forming in her eyes. “And it never goes away, no matter how hard I try to pretend it isn’t there.”

Her breathing stutters and she huffs out a weak chuckle, attempting to cover the slip up of emotional vulnerability.

"I’m not sure how to feel. A part of me resents her for giving me to the Witchers, allowing them to turn me into a mutant,” Geralt says. She looks at him, wide eyes watching him. He doesn’t look at her, opting to stare at the dying fire.

“Sometimes I hate my father, it’s easier to blame him for everything that happened to my family because of his selfish decision. But I can’t bring myself to fully hate him, and I hate myself for feeling so indecisive about him,” she says.

It’s silent again, the air more uncomfortable than moments ago.

Not allowing herself to think on it too much, she begins to move her body, shuffling to sit closer to Geralt, only stopping when their legs are touching. Tentatively, she lowers her head to rest on his shoulder, hand intertwining with his. Neither of them say a word, and the awkward tension dissipates. Geralt’s stiff body relaxes, resting his head on top of Visenya’s.

"I wouldn't mind having children someday, to live a simple life and retire from adventuring," Visenya says. 

Geralt hums in response, drowsiness coating the simple response causing Visenya's lips to turn upwards and her cheeks to glow.

They stay that way, silent and content with the comfort of each other. Eventually, sleep begins to once again pull on Visenya, and she doesn’t resist.

“Goodnight Vis.”

“Goodnight Geralt.”

o0o

Elvish Translation:

- En'ca minne: Little Love

- Dilthen er: Little One

o0o

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#geralt fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia fanfic #the witcher #game of thrones #game of thrones crossover #the witcher crossover #targaryen!oc

[megsironthrone]

Torn Between Family

Based on this request:  Hello, would you write about a female Lannister reader that looks up to Tywin and wants to be just like him. She hast the same intellect as Tyrion and is Tywin’s favourite child. Though, she feels guilty because she loves her siblings and knows that Tywin underestimates Tyrion and Cersei. So she is always torn between her father and her siblings until she decides to take off and live as a hunter in the wilds in order to escape this. It needs Tywin, Tyrion and Cersei to take her back.

Here’s your fic! *Familiar Characters are NOT mine!*

Warnings: The Lannister family dynamic. A little family fluff??

Pairings/Characters: fem!Lannister reader, House Lannister

As the youngest Lannister, you were doted on. You were your father's favorite child and he didn't make it a secret. You appreciated that your father could show some sentiment, but you felt guilty all the same. While he doted on you, he was tough on Jaime. He also underestimated Cersei and clearly loathed Tyrion. Tywin was always comparing your siblings to you and to each other while they constantly complained about your father's treatment of them. You hated it as you loved them all, but you felt that you had to choose between your father and your siblings. You were torn.

         As you grew up, you felt like an outsider in your own family. You learned  strategy and hunting alongside your brothers as well as the skills all higherborn ladies were expected to know alongside Cersei. And you were close to your siblings, but your father's clear favor made you feel like you were betraying them somehow. And if you sided with your siblings, you felt like you were hurting your father.

         It got to the point where you decided that your family would be stronger without you. So, at the ripe age of 18 name days, you fled from Casterly Rock into the forest, determined to live off the land, hunting the way you'd been taught. You took none of your fineries with you. Only a little bit of gold to get you started and to commission some hunting gear better suited for a young lady.  You had no idea the turmoil your little idea had thrown Casterly Rock into.

         The next morning, the entire castle was abuzz with activity. When you had not appeared to break your fast, Tywin had sent a servant to check on you. You weren't in your chambers. Nor were you to be found in any of your usual haunts. Tywin was livid. How had the guards managed to let someone sneak passed them to get you out of the castle?! And furthermore, who had taken you in the first place?!

         "Father, perhaps the kidnapper left a demand for ransom in Y/N's chambers? Did the servant look?" Tyrion asked. Without waiting for a reply, he climbed down from his chair and made his way to your room as quickly as possible. Cersei and Jaime followed at his heels. Once inside, Tyrion looked in the first logical place for any type of parchment that may have been left behind.

         There, on your vanity was a note. But not from a kidnapper. "She wasn't taken. We need to get to Father." The three hurried back to Tywin, the elder two begging Tyrion to clue them in. "Y/N wasn't kidnapped," Tyrion said as soon as Tywin was within his sights. He gave him the note and Tywin read it out loud.

         "She just…ran off? So she wouldn't have to choose between us? Did anyone know that we made her feel that way?" Jaime asked in disbelief. Tywin pursed his lips. "So it seems. I certainly didn't. Granted, a daughter does not share much in the way of feelings with her father." Cersei shifted a little bit but nodded. "We need find her. Don't we?" Tywin agreed and Jaime offered to stay behind. "She listens more to you three. And someone should stay here. To make certain things run smoothly."

         "I agree. Perhaps then you will get the thought of knighthood out of your mind when your sister marries the king in three moons." Jaime grimaced, but gave a small nod. With that, your father, sister, and other brother left Casterly Rock to find you. They only hoped that nothing sinister had befallen you in the few hours that you had been gone.

*time skip brought to you by Robert's breastplate stretcher*

         One month. That's how long you managed to survive out in the wild before you were actually seriously hurt. You hunted, sold the meat and furs to people in a nearby village, and were able to purchase a small but well-made hut for yourself, all in a month's time. To say you were proud of yourself would have been an understatement. You proved that you could be self-sufficient. That you didn't need the family name to succeed. But then, the injury happened.

         You had been out hunting and gathering wood for your hearth when you got distracted. That one distraction ended with you being attacked by a doe protecting her young. You weren't fast enough with your arrow to take her down before she could begin trampling you. The only reason you made it out without worse damage was because someone else came along and scared the poor creature. You snapped your head in the direction of the intruders. "Father," was all you managed to say before you lost consciousness.  

         When you woke up, you found yourself in your own bed. How your family knew it was your hut, you didn't know nor did you think to ask. "Father, she's awake." You glanced over to see Tyrion next to your bed. He gave you a smile and patted your hand. The sound of footsteps caused you to look away from Tyrion to see Cersei and your father.

         "Foolish child," was the first thing your father said, causing you to frown. "I am not a child any more, Father. I may still be your child, but I am a woman. I have already made a name for myself here."

         "Why did you leave, sister?" Cersei asked and you frowned as you tried to sit up. "Because I couldn't take it any longer. The constant divide between you and Father and myself. I didn't want to argue with Father, but I didn't want you or Jaime or Tyrion to hate me either." You proceeded to explain exactly what you meant. As you spoke, your father's shoulders tensed and your siblings looked like they didn't know what to say.

         For a few moments, the silence in your hut felt stifling. You waited for someone to say something. In your opinion it said a lot about your family dynamic that none of them could find any sort of retort to your accusations or any way to try and console your worries and fears. After what felt like hours, your father finally spoke again.

         "We are returning to Casterly Rock." You felt your heart sink. He hadn't heard a word you'd said. "No. I'm staying here." Tyrion and Cersei exchanged a glance. The two never agreed on anything, but they agreed on this. You needed to come home. "Please, Y/N. You belong with us. We're your family. I swear, I shall do my part to make you feel like you belong. You're the best of us, Y/N. We need you," Tyrion said. Of all your siblings, he was the most eloquent. He knew what to say and when to say it.

         You glanced between your siblings and your father. What would happen if you chose to stay? Would your father begin treating your siblings worse? Would your siblings grow to truly hate your father? You didn't know, but you weren't sure you wanted to find out. "I will return, but I would like for there to be a few changes." Cersei and Tyrion immediately agreed. You were the glue that kept the family from falling into ruin. They knew that. For a moment, your father merely stared at you. Finally, he gave you a singular nod. "We shall discuss these…changes on the journey."

         You got up and walked over to him. "Father? I'm sorry for the trouble I caused." Before he could say anything, you wrapped your arms around him. At first, he merely stood there stiffly, but eventually he returned the hug. "Let's not dwell on it. I just want you home where you belong." You smiled before turning away and hugging Cersei then Tyrion. You grabbed your bag and headed out with them. You weren't exactly sure how things were going to work, but when you arrived at Casterly Rock and Jaime pulled you into the fiercest hug ever, you knew you were home.

(a/n: I hope this is what you were looking for!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @etherealpotter​ @line-viper​ @frozenhuntress67​ @cd1242​ @gruffle1​ @smalltownbigheart​ @igotmadskills​

#george r.r. martin #game of thrones #house lannister #xreader

[khaleesiofalicante]

OK MY ELECTRICITY WENT BUT IM HERE WITH MY LIVE BLOG. Im also wearing a tiara i found during cleaning at 2 38 am...

LXI'S STILL HAVING THOSE DREAMS

You see, that’s how Lexi functioned. Unlike Selena who had a weekly planner with her name doodled on it, Lexi didn’t like having a schedule. She would decide what she wanted to do when she wanted it.

SAME LEXI SAME

IM SORRY IF THIS IS MSOTLY IN CAPS IM TOO EXCITED

lexi

lexi why are you in pain

what what what

whats happening

im freaking out

GEORGIA

There were six of them. Each handle in one colour of the pride flag.

gimme

THE ACADEMY

NO NO NO

these demons can talk as well.

that's what bothers me the most

CLARY STFU YOU KNOW DAMN WELL YOU FOUGHT A WAR AT 15. I know she's worried for valid reasons but im losing it right now.

calm its ok its gonna be ok

georgia collecting the ichor-

i love her so much

Lexi didn’t think it was possible, but the sight somehow made her gayer than before.

me every time i look at amy or rosa from b99

OLIVIA

“Of course you are not dying!” Lexi said severely. “Neither one of us is allowed to die before we finish binging Game of Thrones.”

with the major character death tag right there

dont make me think of georgia getting sick

dont

The bar was extremely low for shadowhunters.

yes it is

OH MULTIPLE POVS

RAFAEL

did i just sob "my child" ?

maybe i did

im so proud of him

LEAVE ME ALONE

wait but in tid sophie was over the age of ascention too

WAIT HOW OLD WAS SOPHIE AT THE AGE OF ASCENTION

WAIT OMG SOPHIE WAS YOUNG

I FORGOT ABOUT THAT

“Life is too short for bad blood,”

yeah. yeah it is

i still really like camilla

He could go to Mexico right now. His heart wanted to do it. His body screamed at him to do it.

It wasn’t the distance that was the problem. He had two warlocks at home. He had a bike. He had money to buy a plane ticket.

It wasn’t the distance at all. Rafael would walk to Mexico for her if necessary.

i screamed so loud here i was grateful for the closed door

CHAIRMAN MEOW

CYUKGUCDGYMDYUD

THE PRECIOUS CAT

WHAT IF THE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IS ABOUT CHAIRMAN???

“Y’all really be acting as if portals are like a bag of Cheetos!” Max pointed out seriously. “It ain’t $2.50, bro! Do you have any idea the energy it takes to make a portal? What people actually pay for it? I can’t be making portals for free. I don’t get a salary from the Clave like you do. This is how I make a living!”

SO TRUE

“I was going to say you should go stay at the institute with David,” Rafael said. “But you are right. You are not a baby. You can stay here on your-”

“On second thoughts,” Max interrupted with a grin. “I’m still a fetus in warlock years so I will go the institute.”

THEY ARE SO PRECIOUS

AHHH HE CALLED HER PRETTY THE FIRST TIME HE SAW HER

THEY WERE 7

IM SCREAMING SO MUCH RIGHT NOW

my throat hurts

JAIME MY BABY

Y'ALL I MISSED HIM SO MUCH

“All thanks to the amazing Isabelle Lightwood,” Jaime replied. “I think I am a little in love with her.”

“Who isn’t?” Rafael chuckled.

we all are in love with isabelle lightwood

no no no

where's anjali

where is she

dont fuck with me right now

why does diego look like a mess

“Diego,” the woman rasped. “She is coughing up blood again.”

no

dont

it's chapter 1

stop making me cry

THE LIGHTWOOD SIBLINGS

YUSDFGYUSDFSDGYUD

if anyone gives izzy shit for this i'll kill them

JACE STOP GOING SO FAST

“Jace, if you want to a baby so much then grow your own damn uterus,” Isabelle snapped.

TELL HIM

THIS GOES OUT TO THE WHOLE MALE POPULATION

After Georgia’s birth, they had promised each other that they would always choose the children first. If it ever came to a point, as it often did in their lives, where they had to choose between themselves and the children – they had promised each other to save the children.

dude theres a major character death here

Jace thought for a moment and then grinned at her. “No uterus. No opinion.”

“Selena has trained you well,”

selena my smart feminist child

I JUST KNOW ONE OF THE LIGHTWOOD-BANES IS DYING

AND IM NOT OK

“Do you really need those?” Alec asked, pointing at the glasses.

“No,” Jace replied. “But Clary thinks I look hot with glasses.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Alec shook his head.

Jace turned around. “Really? And your beard is for character building, is it?”

there's no use lying alec we all know why it's really there

I KNOW WHAT LEUKEMIA IS SHUT THE FUCK UP IM LOSING MY SHIT

no

no

she cant die

IF SHE DIES I WILL RAISE HELL

my throat hurts from all the shouting

“Can I get a cinnamon latte with extra cream and two sugars please?” Alec asked.

Jace raised an eyebrow.

“Magnus had a long day at the Spiral Labyrinth,” Alec explained.

“Can’t he just magic his drink?”

“Well, yes,” Alec replied. “But I like buying it for him. It’s called being a good husband.”

aww that's so sweet

THIS IS HILARIOUS

“I’m saying no one can do better than David,” Jace huffed. “He is precious.”

tru

“If you are going to be this way, things are going to be very awkward at their wedding,” Jace muttered.

“They are not getting married, Jace!”

“Do you not want them to???”

“They are nineteen!!”

“Doesn’t mean we are not allowed to think about it,” Jace pointed out. “If they get married, we will be family!”

“We are already family!” Alec all but yelled.

“Yeah, but we will be even closer!” Jace sighed happily.

“You are my parabatai!” Alec said incredulously. “My soul is literally tied to yours! How closer do you want to get?”

THIS IS AMAZING

OH MY GOD I LOVE

JACE BEING OVER PROTECTIVE OVER SELENA DATING SOMEONE IM LOSING MY SHIT

wait how old is michael

"Oh my god,” Jace gasped. “Three out of three! I win!”

“It’s not a competition, Jace!” Alec rolled his eyes.

“It is and I won,” Jace grinned. “You’re welcome, LGBTQ+ community.”

YUP JACE WON

“Can we talk about something else?” Izzy demanded. “We are not those parents who only ever talk about their children.”

Alec cleared his throat. “Right. Of course.”

“Yeah, we have lives of our own,” Jace nodded seriously.

They drove quietly for a while before they started discussing about their children’s love lives again right up until Jace pulled over at Jade Wolf.

of course...

Lily’s face was pale – paler than usual.

lily what's wrong

please lily

anjali...

lily is close to her

of course

“Then we burn all the angels,” Lily growled.

YES YES YES YES

Jace walked in that moment, sipping from his latte. “I bought donuts, y’all!”

A chuckle escaped Magnus. “Jonathan. Your timing is impeccable.”

"Is everything okay?” Jace asked, looking troubled.

“No,” Maia replied. “But at least we have donuts.”

at least they have donuts

“I love you,” he mouthed, and Alec’s heart was okay for a moment.

THE FEELS

ISABELLE

NO NO NO

NO

IZZY

PLEASE

WHY IS EVERY POV ENDING LIKE THIS

They had put on their clothes

AHEM SIR-

they grow up so fast...

no

im crying

dont please

izzy

she was poisoned

oh my god

WHO

GIVE ME NAMES RIGHT NOW

Rafael drank like a dozen a day.

understandable have a good day

OH MY GOD STOP JOKING AS A COPING MECHANISM

Im squeezing the life out of Emma (my emotional support stuffed cat) right now

seelies

the first time i heard the source was angelic my very first incstinct was seelie. I didn't wanna share it because of how absurd it sounded. but it doesn't anymore.

charlotte was poisoned by a seelie unintentionally which cost her her child

oh

OH MY GOD

NO THIS WASN'T IZZY'S COFFEE

MAGNUS GAVE IT TO HER

THIS WAS MAGNUS' COFFEE

SOMEONE WAS TRYING TO POISON HIM.

I'm losing my mind oh my god... I am so scared. Please Anjali and Isabelle please they cant...no i dont wanna think like that. tryna take deep breaths. ok. it's gonna be ok. maybe.

see ya friday!

Now I want to write lbaf while wearing a tiara. Hmmmm. I'll look for one online.

See you Friday! Also hope you had a good birthday!!!

And send pics of Emma!!!!!!!

#lbaf