#no he sees this cruel ugly world for exactly what it is

[januaryembrs]

DEEP ARE THE SCARS | Din Djarin x Mandalorian!reader

Request: Hello! Congratulations on 1k my friend! You deserve it <3 I am wondering if you are comfortable with writing a din djarin x insecure/depressed reader. Thank you!!

description: Din and you have a conversation after one of his past lovers shows up, beauty and all.

Word count: 1.5k

trigger warnings: insecure feelings, scarring on face, established relationship, kissing, parental death mentioned, crime ridden planet mentioned?

main masterlist

Author’s note: it comes as no surprise to anyone this is another part of the KISS THE SCARS universe since I am now apparently very attached to these two and their love but this can be read separately if you like. READ KISS THE SCARS AND TOUCH THE SCARS here!

The world had always been cruel; you had learnt that at a young age. Your planet back was riddled with crime, and when it wasn’t, it was riddled with Empire sympathisers creating just as much chaos and tension between the people, resulting in your parents’ death and your Mando caburs [protector/guardian] to take you to their guild on Nevarro as their own. 

Where you met him.

Din Djarin. The man who you had laid your life on the line for hundreds of times, who had shown you the furthest reaches of the galaxy that you never thought you would see in this lifetime or the next. Who understood you like no one else did, like no one ever had. Din, the one you knew you were going to marry when the time was right, though he had already proposed months before and neither of you had the money spare to settle down let alone afford a ceremony. 

Who had seen you for exactly who you are, perhaps the first to ever do so with such love and unbridled adoration in his golden brown eyes. 

It didn’t bother you so much; him seeing your face, your scars. It was ugly; you had always been aware of it, but since the day he had seen you without your helmet on, he had made you feel nothing but beautiful even with the unsightly tissue marring your face. 

That is until you ran into her. 

You had been collecting credits from a bounty at a nearby tavern, the buyer particularly pleased with your reputation and efficiency. Din was standing barely a few feet behind you waiting for you to finish with the man, when your ears pricked at a feminine voice. 

“Mando!” You immediately turned around, seeing as people used the name for both of you. A tall, incredibly toned Togruta sauntered up to your fiance. The buyer seemed to fade into white noise, mumbling something about needing your service some time in the future, as you watched her throw her arms around Din’s neck. He straightened up awkwardly, but gently returned the hug with a large arm around her waist.

“Kuri,” He choked out, as if someone had punched him in his throat.

Do not act out, You barked at yourself, but your heart willed you to move towards the two like a panic alarm. 

“It’s been years since I saw you! The moon solstice on Kashyyyk, wasn’t it?” The lady, her skin a blossom pink colour reached out with a small laugh and held his wrist dearly, “Oh, I suppose it was the morning after, wasn’t it?”

Do NOT act out. 

But you were there. Stood behind her with your hands lingering on your dagger sheathed at your side, freshly sharpened this morning and ready to cut down any foe that challenged you. Especially the ones that tried to take what was yours. 

Din’s helmet flicked over Kuri’s shoulder, and you could practically see his face begging you to not behave rashly over this. He hadn’t reciprocated one flirtatious advance in the few seconds she had arrived, so he held no blame. Even so, you supposed he didn’t want to deal with the consequences of uncontrolled jealousy. 

The two of them went quiet for a second, and this Kuri woman seemed to notice his eyes were no longer on her. She turned to face his gaze and instead was confronted with you. A female Mandalorian decked out in pristine armour from many very successful bounties, guns and large blades at your hips. She didn’t need to see your face to know you did not look pleased.

And yet all you saw was perhaps the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever met. Her lekku were long and draped over her perk breasts, covered in white stripes and tiny, brown feathers. Her eyes were siren-like, mouth full and a naturally dark pink as if to attract your attention there first. Her red eyes flicked up and down your figure, faintly attempting to hide the fear that was clear as day in her face. 

“Kuri, this is my riduur, Y/N,” Din said as you advanced on the woman slowly. She gulped dryly, stepping back though her face tried to seem poised.

“Is there a problem here?” You asked coldly, taking another step towards her before Din put his arm on your shoulder to halt you. 

“No, j-just catching up with an old friend is all,” Kuri choked out, her eyes flicking to the door as if begging the Maker to send someone to save her. 

“Charming,” You bit out, your voice lowering as you stared daggers at the woman who looked beautiful even when she was cowering in fear, “Though I suggest you leave now. You’d hate to find out what’ll happen if I catch up to you,��� 

And with that the woman fled the tavern without a single utterance of goodbye to her ‘old friend’. But you didn’t feel accomplished. In fact, you had never felt so low. 

—

It was three days before he brought it up. You seemed sluggish, quiet at times when he was waiting for you to chime in with your own thoughts, granting him nothing but hums of agreement when prompted with a question. He knew you weren’t sleeping either. He heard the way you tossed around your bunk, even the blanket grating on your nerves for one reason or the next. You’d wake up the following morning, eyes heavy and face dull of life. 

“Are you hungry?” Din tried to offer, as he had been trying for the past three days to get you to respond at all, but you simply shook your head.

“No thankyou,” Your voice was empty, your gaze zoned out as if you were miles away from him despite standing in front of him. And you were. He had never seen you so dead. It shook his resolve, and he couldn’t help himself from stroking a hair away from your face as an excuse to cup your cheek in his large, warm hand.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered, the voice coming out deep and rugged. But the tenderness was still there. It was always there when Din spoke to you. 

“Nothing,” You murmured, though his hand caressing your cheek seemed to thaw away the cold you felt inside. Sighing, you nuzzled into his palm and shut your eyes gently, liking the way he pet you too much for your own good. 

“Tell me, pretty girl,” Din whispered, bringing his thumb up to trace over where your scar lay at your lip like he always did when the two of you were this close. Yet you flinched as if his fingertips scolded you, as though him touching that part was as sensitive as the day it came to grace your face.

It had been years, but the pain of it cut just as deep. 

“Do you ever wish things were different?” You asked, watching him frown and shrink back. Obviously, he had interpreted your question in the worst possible way, as you having second thoughts on this marriage that had not yet come. “That I was different?” You clarified.

He stared at you aghast. “No, never,” Din replied with such earnestness that it hurt your chest to hear him so disappointed, “What ever have I done to make you feel like that?”

“No, it's not you, it's just-” You huffed, getting frustrated with the words that seemed too difficult to produce, “Kuri is pretty,” 

“Pretty terrified of you, you mean,” Din tried to joke but it fell flat when you glared at him. He chuckled at your mean face, bringing you in close and kissing you on the nose, “And what does that matter?”

“You were together weren’t you?” Your voice was hostile, something you couldn’t help. The Mandalorians never really taught you emotional regulation growing up, it was all fighting as a means to end a dispute.

He sighed, looking down at you with such love despite the fact you knew you were being selfish, “Not the way me and you are, no.”

“So? It doesn’t matter, it still proves you could be with any and every woman much prettier than me. Someone not tainted by a Tusken hound, someone with a perfect face, someone-”

“My sweet wife,” Din cut you off, his hand slipping into your hair to cradle the back of your head. His lips pressed to your brow this time, “I do not want anyone else,” You opened your mouth to interrupt him again, but he shut you up with a kiss there too, “You are strong, and beautiful, and powerful. I loved you just as you are even before you took off that helmet, and I’d love you even if the stars burnt out and the world went dark.” He kissed you once more on your lips, “You are the only one I see,”

You pouted, knowing he was being too kind to a scornful woman like you but melted into his embrace nonetheless. He petted your head kindly, kissing your hairline as you hugged him back, “Thankyou,” You said into his chest though he deciphered what you meant.

“I enjoy seeing you jealous. You had that poor woman running like a scared sand rabbit,” You pinched his ribs in retaliation though you felt him shaking with laughter. “Don’t worry, meshla. I’d show any man just the same manners if they tried to take away my sweet almost-wife,”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader #star wars #mando x female!reader #mando fluff #mandalorian!reader #star wars x reader #pedro pascal x female!reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine #the mandalorian x reader #mando imagine #mando x reader #din Djarin x mandalorian!reader

[eternalbuckley]

Insecurities. — evan buckley

SUMMARY: Reader gets insecure about their body after meeting Taylor Kelly. Buck is their to comfort them and tell them how beautiful they are.

word count: 1,166

genre: fluff, comfort | gn!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings: a tiny bit of angst, heavy fluff, reader being insecure about their body, mention about weight lose, mention of comments from bullies, established relationship, use of pet names (babe, darling, my love), english is not my first language — if i forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: Thank you for this request anon, I'M SO SORRY tumblr deleted your request (i didn't know it would happen if you put in in your drafts.. guess i learned something new) but I still hope you'll find this story. I hope you had an amazing day as well! This topic is a very important one for me and I'm super sorry that it's so short but I still like the end result and I truly hope you'll like it. Might write more stories that are about comfort in the future soon! Enjoy reading 🫶

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know! reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and welcomed!

navigation | masterlist

Why was she so beautiful? Or is? Why would he be with you? He could go back to her immediately. Or even back to anyone else he dated so far or could date.

'She is prettier than you anyway,' you kept asking yourself these questions while you were standing in front of your mirror and looking at your body.

She’s skinnier than you, why would he be with someone like you? Taylor Kelly seemed to be perfect and you thought you were not.

“She’s so gorgeous…” you mumbled to yourself with tears in your eyes.

You slowly started sobbing more and tried to ignore your insecure thoughts but they were too much. You didn’t like your body, being plus size was always something you knew most of society wouldn’t accept. ‘You have to be skinny to get men’s attention’, ‘Be pretty’, ‘Don’t be fat’, ‘If you’re plus size you’re ugly’ and so much more. It was exhausting, especially hearing comments like these in your teenage years. They always made you insecure and you ended up crying in your room many many times. You didn’t know what to do and nothing ever helped. You tried a lot of ways to lose weight and get skinnier but nothing worked. People made fun of you for that and since then you never really got over your insecurities.

How can be the world such a cruel place for something you can’t control?

You didn’t want to let stupid comments from those people ruin your life. But your insecurities came back after you recently met Taylor Kelly, one of your boyfriends, ex-girlfriends.

You knew what she looked like from seeing her on your TV but in reality, she was much more beautiful and skinnier than you. And that made you insecure. You didn’t exactly know what happened between her and Buck and why they broke up. But if you would only go after looks, she would win against you. At least that’s what you kept thinking about yourself.

Buck on the other hand was the happiest person on earth knowing he had you on his side. It has been almost two years since you officially got into a relationship and he has been the happiest since then. He always made sure to compliment you every single day. Whether it was in person or over texts but he never forgot. Not one day. He loved seeing you blushing over his compliments and genuinely being happy about his words. They let you feel better. He just didn’t know how insecure it made you meeting Taylor, not yet.

Buck came up behind you and kissed your cheek. He wrapped his arms around you and eventually noticed the tears in your eyes and your sobs.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” He turned you around and hugged you.

You snuggled up into him and hid your face in his chest without answering his question. You finally let go of your tears and cried in his arms. He whispered sweet nothings to you and rubbed your back to comfort you. He sat down with you on your shared bed and let you cry it all out. Buck always wanted to make sure that you feel loved and comfortable in his presence. But one thing that was really important to him, was to give you always the time you need. It didn’t matter for what reason. If it was just for you to get ready for a date or even giving you all the time to feel comfortable around him. He would always wait for you. Which wasn’t the easiest part for you as well but you trusted Buck with your life. You loved him and how happy he made you. How he made sure that you feel completely safe with him. You admired this side of him the most.

You eventually stopped sobbing after some time and slowly got calm. You still didn’t let go of him but he tried to ask you again about the reason for your current emotional state.

You sighed, your voice was still trembling. “Taylor Kelly…”

He furrowed his eyebrows and tried to look at you but you still hid your face in his chest. “What about her? Did she say something to you? Do I need to talk with her to leave you alone? Did she-“

“No, no,” you slightly chuckled about his protective side and turned your head to look at him. “I just- Have you seen her? She’s gorgeous, Buck. Look at how skinny she is compared to me. I’m just me and she? She’s Taylor Kelly. A beautiful and no plus-sized girl. Like… Why are you with me? You could have her or any other person that is skinnier than I am, Buck.”

Your insecurities were growing again while you were looking at your boyfriend. You saw his admiring eyes but speaking your insecurity out loud was hard. That’s probably a reason you spoke faster than usual. His eyes showed a hint of sadness, about your words. Hearing you talking about yourself in that way hurt him because he didn't want that you are hurting. Buck knew about your past and what your former classmates did and said to you, he thinks it's horrible and you would never deserve that. No one would. Bullying is one of the worst things someone can experience and seeing what this can do to people hurts him the most. Especially seeing his most important person (you) like that. Buck wished he could take away all your pain and turn it into something beautiful.

Buck kissed your forehead, “And I absolutely don’t care about this at all. I have the most beautiful person sitting in my arms right now. And let me tell you, every time I look at this person my heart swells so badly because of all the love my heart holds for that one special person. That is sitting in my arms by the way, in case I didn’t mention that already.” He took a breath. “And I love them with my entire life, no one can compare to them at all. They’re the definition of beauty.”

Tears build up in your eyes again and you kissed his jaw. Buck chuckled and nudged your nose.

“I would never want to be with Taylor or any other person just because they look different than you. I really don’t care about this, my love. I only care about you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re the most beautiful and kind person I’ve ever seen and no one can ever compare to you. I love you and nothing can and will ever change that.”

He eventually softly kissed you on the lips which caused a smile on yours.

“I love you too, Buck. And I never want to lose you," your voice was still a bit weak.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You won’t get rid of me that easily, darling.” He grinned at you and kissed your nose afterwards.

#⚘; — my writing ✧♡ #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley fluff #evan buckley angst #evan buckley fanfiction #evan buckley fanfic #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley one shot #evan buck buckley #oliver stark #9-1-1 #911 #911 fic #911 fanfic #911 x reader #911 show #9 1 1 x reader #9-1-1 x reader #911 fox #911 fluff #911 angst #9 1 1 fanfiction #9 1 1 fandom #9 1 1 fic #9 1 1 on abc #gn!reader

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

hi baby! im sure ure flooded with requests but ive been feeling really insecure ab my hip dips n stretch marks lately n ur writing really comforts me... so i was wondering if u could write smt ab dokyeom or anyone u want rlly! finding reader feeling bad ab their hip dips and stretchmarks and he comforts them? totally ur choice love u! ❤

oh girl i have had the WORLDS WORST body image week ever so this request hits difffffffffffffferent. i'm so happy to do that -- for both of us. warnings: female reader, body image issues are a major theme, descriptions of physical insecurities of the reader, mention of a doctor visit, and possibly a bit angsty with a happy ending

this is:

No Less a Goddess

"can i come to the gym with you?" you ask shyly, peeking around the corner at your boyfriend, who is changing into his shorts and tee to work out.

"huh?" seokmin asks, whirling to look at you with his arms in the sleeves of his shirt, having been interrupted in pulling it over his head. "you've never asked before! i'd love to have you come along!"

"what do i wear?" you ask, unable to keep from smiling at his enthusiasm.

"anything you want!" he says. "just make sure it's easy to move in."

about fifteen minutes later, the two of you are walking down the stairs to the gym in your shared apartment complex, hand in hand. seokmin's sunny smile and idle chatter is almost enough to distract you from the growing knot of discomfort in your stomach.

sure enough, the second you walk in, you notice a woman running on the treadmill. her short shorts and sports bra are stylishly coordinated, at a stark contrast to your ratty gray sweatpants and ugly oversized tee. her legs are muscular, and you can't see a single ounce of fat on her. you swallow hard and try to pay attention to seokmin instead, who is excitedly showing you around. "and this is where i painstakingly grew the arms you have come to know and love," he's saying, pointing at the barbells. "you should say thank you."

"i appreciate your service," you say with a small salute, and seokmin chuckles.

"so, what are your fitness goals?" seokmin asks, shrugging off his jacket.

you have to appreciate how the gray tee hugs the contours of his body, so you just say, "i just want to be a part of whatever it is you've got going on." which makes him beam.

you join seokmin for leg day. surprisingly, you're amazed by how much you're actually able to do -- apparently years of working on your feet has paid off, and while you're not perfect, you can mostly keep up with your very athletic boyfriend. it's actually kind of fun, too, which is no surprise -- seokmin makes everything fun.

but in the back of your mind, you're still thinking about that woman on the treadmill. seokmin is the most loyal man you know, and the idea of him cheating on you is actually laughable, but you can't help but compare yourself to her. that's the kind of person he deserves, you think to yourself. not a slob like me.

it had been a bad week for your body image. earlier on, you'd had to go to the urgent care for a bad case of pink eye, and the doctor had announced your weight to you out loud, which honestly felt like cruel and unusual punishment, especially given that it was the heaviest you'd ever been. the sting was only exacerbated when you went shopping for a few new outfits for a cruise you were taking next month with seokmin. your love handles, your thick thighs covered in stretch marks and cellulite, your hip dips -- all these insecurities you'd always had seemed to zoom into the forefront of your mind and start yelling at you.

you hadn't yet confided in seokmin, because you knew exactly how he'd react. but it becomes impossible not to tell him when, post-gym and post-shower, he corners you in the bedroom and sits you firmly down on the mattress. "something's up," he insists. "what's wrong?"

"i'm feeling insecure," you admit, avoiding his gaze.

"about what?" he asks.

"have you noticed i've gained weight?" you ask in a small voice.

"no," he responds, confused. "is that what this is about?"

"at the doctor's office," you continue softly, "i found out i'm the heaviest i've ever been." you take a shuddering breath. "and i'm getting more and more stretch marks. and i just feel like you're so out of my league. i mean, look at you." you gesture to him in all his freshly showered glory.

seokmin just blinks. "well? do you have anything to say?" you ask him, feeling a little hurt at his lack of response.

he hesitates. "well, i'm not sure what to say," he says slowly.

"well, thanks," you say, standing up and stalking out of the room. "super helpful, babe."

"no, wait! come back!" seokmin says, sounding panicked. "let me finish."

"oh, was there more?" you shoot at him. "because your silence was really loud."

he sighs. "honey, i understand you're feeling upset and i get it, i really do. but you have to let me finish talking."

his patient tone of voice grates at your already frayed nerves, but you bite your tongue and sit back down on the bed. this is seokmin, you remind yourself. seokmin, the kindest person alive. seokmin, who never meant to hurt you even when he did. and seokmin, who always made things right.

he reaches over and grabs your hand. "it's hard for me to respond to that because to me, you're perfect," he begins. you scoff, and he squeezes your hand. "hear me out," he implores.

you sigh but finally turn to look him in the eyes. he gives a small smile before starting again, playing absently with your fingers. "your body is ..." he says, and trails off, his eyes devouring you hungrily. he finally shakes himself back to normal and continues. "ugh. i'm gonna get distracted if i go into more detail, but let's just say i'm more attracted to you now than i ever have been, and that's saying something." he laughs quietly. "it's hard for me to understand the insecurities because to me, you're a goddess."

"okay," you say hesitantly. "but that doesn't make them any less real."

"no, i know," seokmin agrees. "so i guess what i should've said is that... i'm really sorry you can't see yourself like i do right now. and i will do whatever it takes to remind you that no matter how things change, or how you change, i fell in love with you for so much more than just your body. and that's one thing that's never changing," he finishes.

you study him with a stony face for a moment. "okay, that was pretty good," you admit, finally cracking a smile.

"was it?" he asks.

"and you should be rewarded," you continue, sliding closer to him on the bed in the most suggestive way you can muster.

he blushes. "well...i'll never say no to that," he agrees, pulling you closer to him for a kiss.

#anon ask #anon request #seokmin fanfic #seokmin fluff #seokmin x reader #lee seokmin #seokmin svt #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen #svt fic #svt #svt x reader #svt fluff

[lovemari]

IMPORTANT: Hello! My old account, Lovemari, got deleted. Therefore, I had to make a new one. I'm honestly pretty upset about this so I'll take some time to recover! Thankfully, all my posts are saved as I write them in google docs before posting. Please like and reblog so I can reach my old followers and potentially new ones! 

Love & Care  - Wanderer x Reader

Reminder: I'm not an experienced writer so construction criticism is always welcome! Also, I write for fun. I just wanted to share my work around the world!

You were no stranger to ugly looks and gossip at your high school. People found you hideous and odd, often avoiding you. You never knew why humanity could be so downright cruel. 

Whenever you faced these problems, you talked to your boyfriend, Wanderer. You've only just recently dated him, but you feel like you could spend your life with him eternally.

Wanderer held your hand, resting your head on his shoulder as you let out all your pain. Although he was never one to understand emotions, he encouraged himself to understand yours. 

The Wanderer would whisper words of comfort in your ears, letting you know that even though people may dislike you, he'll always love you. 

It was later found out that the reason people are pressed about you is because of your relationship with Wanderer. He was always the campus crush and dating him would make girls jealous. Therefore, the girls often made you feel inferior, hoping you'd break up with your boyfriend.

You kept quiet about this. You didn't want to make Wanderer lash out on this group of individuals. You didn't want to be the reason for Wanderer's downfall.

Despite your efforts to keep quiet, Wanderer knew something was up. He often gave you notes in class, asking you what's the problem. You would say “nothing” even though you're not very good at lying, making his suspicion rise even higher.

At night, Wanderer visited your dorm. He crawled into your bed and turned off the lights, “(Name.)” He whispered, though his voice somewhat stern,“I know something's wrong.” He concluded. You took a heavy sigh, deciding it's time to spill the beans, “You know them?” You began, referring to the group of girls. Scaramouche nodded, “Yeah. Were they bothering you again?” He asked, cautiously. You shook your head, “Not exactly. You see, the reason they're bullying me is because they're jealous of us.” You concluded. 

It took a few moments for Wanderer to process this. His eyebrows furrowed, “How stupid.” He hissed, “How dare they lash out on you..” He glared, sounding quite annoyed. You didn't have an answer. Wanderer gave you an assuring kiss, “Just stay away from them. Always remind yourself that they're only wasting their time being mad.” He assured you, wanting you to understand the fact that they're jealous of you and angry that you have what they could never get. You wrapped your arms around Wanderer, without saying a word.

You knew you found a good boyfriend, who not only cared about you, but also for you.

#dividers by cafekitsune #genshin #genshin impact #genshin wanderer #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer #wanderer fluff #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer comfort #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche comfort #genshin drabbles #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact drabbles #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x reaader #x reader #genshin self insert #self insert #fluff

[pistatsia]

All or Nothing: Noel Noa (ft. Jinpachi Ego)

(note that this analysis contains heavy spoilers for Noa's motives in my Big little dramas fic)

What I really like about Noa is that his character, with his questionable coaching decisions and personality... Actually very evidently grows from his backstory.

We only know a few things for sure about Noa's background before Blue Lock: he grew up in the slums of Paris, where he invested all of himself to get out of that hole, he's ex-boyfriend rival of Jinpachi Ego, with whom they diverge in their ideologies and approaches to the striker's game, and he's the idol of little (and adult) Isagi Yoichi due to the fact that he plays rough and focuses on his success rather than his teammates.

On top of that, we also know that Noa was probably forced into Blue Lock. Most likely, the club management put him in front of the fact that you was specifically requested by your ex rival, so go and shine with your face on a TV show. Oh, and bring along our resident bouquet of personality disorders, code-named kainess. Noa certainly doesn't want to show off for the camera like Lavinho or Chris, doesn't want to raise the next generation of players to avoid his mistakes like Snuffy, and certainly isn't looking for friends/good play/rivals like Loki (who only came to the top 5 to evaluate the level of Blue Lock players according to his own words). Even if he'd wanted to see the sprouts of Ego's theory I doubt that he will apply for the participating in Blue Lock voluntary.

Because Noa doesn't really care. This whole mess is just out of his field of interest. Outside of the games we only see him sitting in his room staring endlessly at screens and drinking coffee.

But it's from this that we see that Noa, despite his very... die-or-die method of building a game on the field, is a responsible player and coach. He may not want to mess around with kids in front of the world, but if he took the job, he'll do it. But he will do it exactly the way he demands of himself - no more, no less. Noa is neither cruel nor kind - he doesn't go beyond what his contract asks of him and his principles.

Slightly off-topic, I'd say that's the exact difference between Noa and Ego. No one would accuse Noa of conscious cruelty: he acts within his system, which he has explained to the children in advance, and if they fail it is only their fault for failing to adjust to it. He is simply doing his job - nothing more, nothing less.

Ego, in his turn? He chooses to be cruel even in the system he have built himself. Not because it somehow motivates the children, but because he can. And in doing so, Ego doesn't hate them - he probably doesn't care about any of them. He hates in them a part of the player he once was - the player who lost either to Noel Noa or the entire football world. If not to the both at once.

But even so, it seems odd for the manga to highlight their rivalry. It's not that only very few people have different ways of dealing with children. A lot of people are losing ugly to each other.

But this work with kids is the main root of their rivalry. Because the basics of their motto, their starting point of football, the way they guide children to the game are diametrically opposed.

Because the key point of Ego theory is that the striker is created by a moment of chaos. A moment that cannot be directed - that can only be pushed towards.

Except that for Noa a player hoping for a miracle and not knowing something is nothing. He will never allow that in his team - his whole game, his team and his life is one big formula with coefficients chosen once, like a neural network.

Both of them live as a part of the all-or-nothing game. Except that while Ego plays this game with emotion and involvement, Noa approaches it as logically as possible.

And only Isagi Yoichi can resolve this decades-long conflict.

Now let's go back to Noa's game, to understand why logic is that important to Noa and the player's emotions are insignificant and even get in the way.

Remember exactly how he plays on the pitch. He never comes out to play first like other master strikers. He chooses the midfield position to support the player of his choice - he doesn't steal their shine in the center of attack. He only scores a goal once too, in the first match - the rest of the time he blocks other master strikers in an effort to ensure the kids can play fair.

And that's probably why he openly mocks both Lavinho and Chris with his dry jokes about narcissists and "kids without the proper adult". But he's especially harsh on Snuffy, angrily mocking him for being bitten by "his own dog", bringing back the "don't make my job harder than it needs to be" line. But why does Snuffy deserve this treatment (not taking into account the way Snuffy himself ridicules Noa)?

Because Noa is disgusted with his approach to teaching.

In fact, it's their approaches in the Blue Lock cut that are most opposed, and yet turned on to the max. While Snuffy has gone so far as to give each player an individual program and plan in his strategies, Noa has let things slide, making his stratum a mini version of the Hunger Games. Noa is angry that Snuffy babysits his kids; he's angry at how involved he is in their lives, how Snuffy swirls around them, and how Snuffy is always there to help and support them.

Because Noa is a "give a hungry man a fish and he'll eat for a day, teach him to fish and he'll eat for a lifetime" kind of guy. Except that he won't even teach them voluntarily. Players need to get the right advice from him themselves while framing the question correctly. 

Noa's policy is non-interference.

Because he knows from experience that it's the only way kids grow up strong. From his own experience.

And to fully dive in, let's remember another moment from the manga that characterizes Noa the most. His advice to Isagi.

"Dedicate every hour, moment, second of your life to a goal. Don't think irrationally. Get your thoughts in order. I don't pick irrational people for the team. Dedicate your whole self to the goal."

Pretty cool, huh? Blossoms with potential burnout, a life on automatic, and a complete loss of feeling.

You know what I'm getting at? That's exactly the lifestyle Noa lives with. And he doesn't see anything wrong with advising Isagi to do it. He doesn't get annoyed by people's taunts about him being a machine and incapable of feeling. That's probably what he wanted.

Because Noa himself grew up completely dedicated to a goal, switching off all his feelings and without mentorship, and it made him who he is now. And it's rational for him to follow the same path with his kids.

Because feelings are illogical. They're weird, they're scary, they're very hard to predict. They're exhausting, they make you turn back to the past and wait for the future with hopes that may not be fulfilled later. They take your strength, they hurt and they wound very sharply. They make you weak, they make you vulnerable - they make you a helpless child.

Living without them is so much easier.

(If you remember my analysis on Isagi, you can see how similar he and Noa are.)

In psychology this mode is called "detached protector". Its essence is that the child or adult turns off all their feelings to avoid punishment and focus on survival. 

They switch off all emotions. They cut off all emotional ties with loved ones, family and friends, seeing them more as objects. They can only work endlessly.

They function like a robot.

This mode is triggered when a person cuts off all their emotional needs, like an automaton focusing on one single goal.

In Noa's case? His survival. And that's exactly what Ego is talking about - that young Noa, obviously emotionally deprived, put all of himself into football because he had nothing else but it. 

And judging by Noa today, having cut off those needs as a child, he doesn't see the point in experiencing them again. Noa doesn't smile, he doesn't get upset or frustrated. He doesn't get angry or regretful. Of course, mentally stable people can express their emotions weakly too - and even on a level like Noa.

But we're in a football manga. Football is all about emotion.

And the fact that Noa doesn't visually show the joy or at least the satisfaction of a goal or a victory - of the life that little Noa once strived so hard to live, investing all of himself - is just awful.

Of course, Noa has feelings, just like any other person. After all, he is a living being. Except they're either quite faint (because strong emotions = danger and weakness), or he crushes them as soon as he feels them coming on.

Noa's whole life is an endless race to stay where he is.

Because Noa has learned to survive. Of course, he did.

But Noa didn't learn how to live.

#i'm sorry #noel noa #ego jinpachi #bllk analysis #blue lock analysis #bllk #blue lock

[miguelswifey04]

Hey love🫶🏻

I cant help but Fall for your story’s they are so well written and beautiful🥹💕

I would like to request a Miguel x chubby reader where Miguel comforts her. She is insecure about her only body because of her family that tells her that she is too fat and ugly and no one would want someone like that. She is actually a soft sunshine for everyone and very friendly with kids (dunno if that info helps hehe). She is strong and doesn’t cry much, but when Miguel saw her tears he knew it was serious.

Please don’t mind my grammar, English isn’t my first language-💀

Don’t feel forced to write something out of your comfort zone Love🫶🏻

never apologize for speaking and writing in a extremely difficult language <33 your english is amazing and i 100% understand it love <33 and thank you for being lovely & super supportive, i see you <33

miguel o’hara x chubby! fem! reader

In your relationship with Miguel, you carried the weight of deep-seated insecurities about your body. The hurtful words from your family echoed in your mind, reverberating with cruel judgments that undermined your self-esteem. Though you radiated warmth, kindness, and an infectious joy with everyone around you, it was often a struggle to extend that same compassion towards yourself.

One evening, the weight of these insecurities became unbearable, and tears welled up in your eyes. You tried to hide your pain, fearing that burdening Miguel with your struggles would only push him away. But Miguel, being attuned to your emotions, sensed your distress. His gaze softened with concern as he approached you with gentle steps.

Wrapping his arms around you, he held you close, providing a safe haven for your wounded heart. "Mi amor, what's troubling you?" he murmured, his voice filled with compassion.

Tears streamed down your face, your emotions finally spilling over the dam of strength you had built. In a whispered voice, tinged with vulnerability, you spoke of the hurtful words that had scarred your self-perception, recounting the degrading remarks you received from your family.

Miguel listened intently, his embrace unwavering, as though absorbing your pain and offering solace in return. His grip tightened slightly, a silent reassurance that he was there for you, in both body and soul.

"Miguel, they say I'm too fat, too ugly," you began, your voice quivering with hurt. "They make me believe that no one could ever want someone like me. But I try so hard to be strong, to be a light for others. It's just so difficult to extend that same love towards myself."

Miguel's fingers gently brushed away your tears, his touch conveying a tenderness that melted away the walls you had built around your heart. He tilted your chin up, ensuring that your gazes met, and spoke with conviction that resonated deep within your core.

"My love," he said, his voice resolute yet tender, "let me tell you something. You are a radiant sunshine in a world often dimmed by negativity. Your warmth, your kindness, and your incredible spirit amaze me every single day. Your body, your curves, are a testament to your strength and beauty. You are exactly as you should be."

With each word, Miguel's voice carried an unwavering belief in your worth and a love that surpassed the judgments of others. He celebrated your unique beauty and reminded you that you deserved love, appreciation, and acceptance just as much as anyone else.

In that moment, as Miguel held you close, you knew that his love and support would help you heal. You realized that your worth was not dependent on the opinions of others, no matter how hurtful. With Miguel by your side, you would learn to embrace your body, celebrate your unique beauty, and shower yourself with the same love and respect you so freely bestowed upon others.

Together, you would build a bridge of self-acceptance, guiding each other towards self-love and appreciation. Miguel, the gentle and steadfast force in your life, would continue to be your unwavering source of comfort and inspiration, reminding you that you were cherished, exactly as you were.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @sabcandoit @meeom

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #🌱 lin writes #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x chubby reader #♡´･ᴗ･`♡ lin answers #lin’s asks

[sednonamoris]

violence and timing

Pairing: John Price x gn!reader

Summary: Price is captured by Makarov’s men. It’s difficult to grapple with your feelings for him while mounting a rescue operation - thankfully you learned from the best.

Warnings: Torture + waterboarding (not intensively detailed), canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, strong language, not really a warning but dual POV

Word count: 2,526

A/N: Takes place after call off the dogs (and come home to me) and let me love the lonely out of you, but you don’t have to have read either for this to make sense!! You can also find this story on AO3

—

Price has always had a knack for knowing things he shouldn’t.

When he was a little boy he knew something in their house scared his mother despite the brave face she put on. As a young man he knew there was an ugly price to pay to keep the world right despite what everyone said on the news. Right now, he knows he’s being held underground despite his captors’ best efforts to disorient him. Knows there’s one light source in this room despite the bag over his head. Knows his team will come for him despite their inevitable orders not to. 

No one fights alone, he can hear their voices chorus.

But he is alone, behind enemy lines and waiting for the creak of rusty hinges to signal the next round of torture. It’s been mostly waterboarding, so far - nothing creative. His stoic silences and rasped insults have been met with poorly concealed impatience and base violence. Apparently Makarov never bothered to tell his men that you can’t break someone who’s already broken; They’ll get nothing from him. Bloody amateurs.

If anything, he’s more occupied with the frustration that these people managed to get the drop on him at all. He could’ve kicked himself the second he realized exactly how many of them were swarming his overwatch position, but at least it was him and not his team. Not Ghost, who’s been through enough hardship already. Not Gaz, so young and burning so bright. Not Soap, with enough heart for all of them and then some. Not Hound, who—

Not Hound. 

Anyone but Hound. 

He lets himself wonder, distantly, wistfully, if he’ll ever get to see that fierce face he’s grown to love so much again. Then the door screams open. Heavy footsteps approach. His captors laugh and exchange cruel jabs in Russian. A faint, grim smile twists his lips before they pull the hood off. 

—

These have been the worst seventy-two hours of your life. Too long for a hostage, but still not enough time to separate you from seeing Price brutalized by Makarov’s men, from hearing the sickening crunch as his audio cut out over comms, from watching helplessly while they carried him away from you.

“Hound, get everyone out of--!” plays in your head on a loop. The desperation, the fear, the crack in his voice as he shouted those words as loud as his wartorn lungs could. You nearly took Ghost’s head off for holding you back upon hearing them. 

His last words.

You hope to God they’re not his last words. Setting your jaw, you promise yourself that they won’t be. 

“You doing alright, mate?” Gaz asks. His voice is so much softer than usual. Serious. 

“No.” The admission burns on your tongue. “We need to move fast if we don’t want to be bringing home a bleedin’ body bag.” 

He clasps a warm hand to your shoulder and squeezes. “Cap’s tough. We’ll get him back in one piece.” 

You offer a nod, but can’t bring yourself to say anything more. Pulling anything out of you has been like pulling teeth since he was taken. 

After explaining the bare bones of the situation, Nik agreed to pilot you all out to where Price is being held - some abandoned gulag in The-Middle-of-Fucking-Nowhere, Russia. Anything for a friend, Tserber, he’d said over the phone, and you could have cried in relief. The helo ride has been uncharacteristically quiet. Even Soap struggles to lighten the mood. 

The Russian landscape passes beneath you, snow-capped forests and wide open tundra in turn. You find yourself wondering if he’s cold, of all things. Trapped in some tiny cell, no food or water, certainly nothing to ward off the subzero temperatures of an unheated, underground facility.

Fuck.

You both knew that being together would cause more problems than it solved, at the end of the day, but you’ve never taken a moment to consider how strange your circumstances truly are until now. Most people worry about their partners driving in slippery conditions getting back from the grocery store - something dangerous, sure, but also achingly mundane. Here you are worried about yours overnighting as a hostage in an off-the-grid prison facility. 

Nik sets down three klicks out, give or take. Hoofing it to Price will be the easy part. You just have to hope he can make the trek back. There’s a small comfort in knowing that any one of you would rather carry him the whole way than leave him behind. 

Nik makes a move to grab a gun but you stop him with a shake of your head. “We need you here on stand-by so we can take off straight away. I’ll radio you the moment we have him.”

His eyes soften a fraction at the look on your face. “Good luck, my friend.”

“Spasibo,” you offer a grim smile, then turn to face the rest of your team. Their somber faces are turned to you, waiting. “We’ve got a hike ahead of us, lads, and a load of cunts waiting to get their brains blown out. Silencers on every gun, knives when you can - let’s keep this quiet as long as possible. When we breach I want radio silence ‘til someone grabs Price.”

“Hound and I will go for the Captain,” Ghost adds. “Johnny, Gaz, you two keep the exit clear. Anything goes wrong, you bail and head back to Nikolai. Hound and I will sort out alternative exfil if needed. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Rog’,” they chorus. They won’t bail, you know, or at the very least they’ll put up a fight, but they both know better than to argue that right now.

You nod gratefully towards them all before heading out. It’s a long, cold journey ahead and you need to haul ass if you’re going to get in and out before nightfall.

—

“Tell us what you know!” The demand is punctuated with a heavy blow across his face.

Price bares his teeth through a mouth full of blood. “Fuck you.”

“Let me say again,” his captor leans down close to his face with violence on his breath. “You will tell us what you know, SAS. It might be now, it might be later, but I will get it out of you.”

He doesn’t speak another word, but the unmasked hatred written across his face says everything.

—

It’s easy for you and Ghost to slip into a deadly rhythm after working together so long. Crouch, sneak, crunch; slow, fast, slice. His throwing knives whisper death into the cracked concrete halls. Your longer close-combat ones sing an old, bloody song in tandem when you sink them into enemy soldiers - each just one more obstacle between you and Price. You let them bite into the soft flesh between armor plating, right at the junction where their neck meets their shoulder, and think about the way John kisses you there in soft morning light, his whiskers ticklish, his sleepy smile pressed into your skin. 

The prison is in bad shape. Metal bars on cramped cells are composed more of rust than iron, flaking off in a toxic shade of orange-brown. The floor is sturdy concrete but even it has seen better days. Bloodstains. Miscellaneous debris. Most of it looks old, at least a decade just sitting and wasting. There are newer scuff marks in the dust, fresher blood that leads you down, down, and further down the echoing halls. You try not to think about the struggle Price must have put up. Or worse, if he hadn’t put one up at all - the drag of his unconscious body behind masked men; faceless, nameless thugs working to further Makarov’s sick machinations. 

“We should have found him already,” you mutter.

“Easy, Hound. Can’t be far now.” Simon’s reassurance is about as kind as it gets from him, especially in the field. Your frayed nerves must be getting to him. 

It’s reasonable, though, to be so worried. At least to your mind; You should have encountered more resistance. A handful of soldiers are hardly the force you’d expected to reckon with, and the only other place they might be is wherever Price is, doing all manner of terrible things to get information out of him that you know he’ll never give up. Not for anything. 

Then you find the basement staircase.

You creep down silent as the grave. When you tuck yourselves into cover, scant though it is, each breath is kept deep and quiet so the guards ahead don’t hear.

Simon signals the plan of attack, but so close to the objective - to Price - it’s all peripheral. Distantly, you’re aware of your body lurching forward at his mark, but over the roar in your ears you can hear no sound and past the tunnel of your vision you see only red. 

—

Price chokes and gasps for breath. He takes his mind far, far away from the water pouring over his face. Lists through rifle specs like a soldier, then sheep like a child. 

He wants it to stop.

He knows it won’t. 

Then something bursts through the door with all the force of a hurricane and it does.

—

“Drop your fucking weapons!”

“Put your bloody hands up, now!”

You hit them so hard and so fast that not one has a chance to reach for his weapon. The few that were holding them already either obey your shouted commands on instinct or are so cowed by disbelief they forget what’s in their hands before you have them dead on the ground. 

“Clear,” Simon sounds relieved when the last one drops. 

Amidst the carnage, Price sits tied to a metal folding chair. It’s directly beneath a single, swinging lightbulb that emits a frantic and fluttering fluorescence. His hands and feet are bound, too-tight and raw, and even in bad lighting you can see his face is beat to a bloody pulp. It’s all you have time to register before you fly forward to cut the bonds and cradle his face in your hands. 

Blue eyes blink through the water and the blood and the confusion that clumps his eyelashes to drink in your features with pain and wonderment. 

“Hound,” he rasps. “How—?”

“Violence and timing.” Your grin is a savage punctuation of the statement, too-wide and speckled with his captors’ blood. “Now let’s get you out of here.”

—

Past his initial rescue his mind is lost to a fog of pain, but even through that Price remembers the musicality of your voice cussing out the entire hospital staff for not being ready for him. He tries to laugh but it only comes out a painful wheeze. 

—

You hate hospitals almost as much as hospitals hate you. The staff all either shrink away or glare when they see you on your way to monopolize Price’s visiting hours each day. If they just did their jobs maybe you wouldn’t have to fight with them so often, but there’s always something.

His room is too cold. Blankets too few. It’s cramped. Dark. Don’t they know he just came from a place like that? And how would they like to wake up to a dark, miserable little room, huh? And would it kill them to open the blinds and let some fucking sunlight in, little that there is in bleedin’ England? And Jesus, do you have to do everything around here? 

You’ve brought flowers, this time.

Yellow daffodils you’re sure the staff will neglect on his bedside table until they’re sad and wilting, but the splash of colour ought to do him some good. You hope it does him some good.

Three light knocks on the door announce your entrance. There’s a nurse checking his vitals whose eyes widen upon realizing who you are. He scurries away as quickly as he can, and you snort a derisive laugh after him.

“You’re a bloody menace,” Price says with enough fondness in his voice you could burst. John, now that it’s just the two of you. “Do you know the staff draw straws when you’re here?” 

“You say that like you’re not an awful patient,” you tease. It’s half-hearted at best, and even on the equivalent of horse tranquilizers you know he notices.

You busy your hands arranging his flowers in a clear plastic vase, but your eyes cut over to assess his condition today. His eyes are just as clear and sharp as ever, and the swelling on his face has gone down. The cracked ribs hurt like a bitch, you know from experience, but they don’t stop him from sitting up straighter every time you walk through the door. He had been unconscious for four days after his rescue and still all you can think is how much worse everything could have been. How cracked ribs and a broken nose and a fractured eye socket and every carefully catalogued cut and bruise could have been worse.

How he might not have come home at all. 

“You’re staring.”

Your eyes quickly dart back down to the flowers. Flower arranging is at the bottom of your list of skills, but they’re about as bright and cheerful as you could hope, if a little over-cut and crooked in places.

As you turn to set them gently at his bedside he heaves a sigh, heavy between you.

“Now you won’t look at me.” He sounds tired. There’s a twinge of pain at the end of each syllable, but worse than that he sounds like he’s trying so hard to be careful with you. Like you’re the fragile one right now. “What’s wrong, love?”

You scoff past the sudden lump in your throat and finally meet the depths of those blue, blue eyes. “Nothing. I’m being silly.”

“I doubt that very much.” His face creases, warm and a little sad. 

“Fine,” you say. You seat yourself on the edge of his bed and grasp his warm, calloused hand in yours. Stroking a reverent thumb along his knuckles gives you a measure of courage. “I love you.”

He sucks a sharp breath in. 

“I don’t expect you to say it back - you know I won’t ever ask for anything you can’t give - but fuck me, John, when they took you all I could think about was how much I love you and that I hadn’t told you and that you might die and not know.” You dare a glace up at his face with a sheepish smile made of shards of glass. “So, now you know. Don’t go dying on me about it, please and thanks.”

The glacial blue of his eyes warms to Mediterranean Sea, and the smile he gives you damn near breaks your heart. “Darling,” he says, “for the life of me I’ll never know what I did to deserve it, but you’re the kind of person a man could live for.”

I love you, too.

He raises his hand, still in yours, to his mouth. His unshaven whiskers tickle your skin. The kiss he presses to the inside of your wrist is reverent and warm, full of everything he’s never said and is still scared to say out loud. 

I love you, too.

#captain john price x reader #john price x reader #fran writes #cod x reader #cod mwii x reader

[sunnylands-world]

The ugly is pretty

Pairing: draco Malfoy x reader

Summary: you met an attractive boy at the perfume store but you had no idea that he was a bully…

Word count: 985

Warning: enemies to lovers, love at first sight? Hufflepuff and muggle reader, pov switching. I think that's it

Universe: Harry Potter

A/n: I'm so so sorry this took this long I just hadn't figured out a way to write it

Draco let out a sigh as he examined the bottles of strong smell. He didn't know what his mother would like, he wasn't a female. He huffed turning on the heel of his shoe only to be blinded by the girl who entered. Her hair had a simple yellow headband and her dress flowed a bit with the breeze of the open door giving him a peek of her soft skin under. She wandered around, small fingers grazing the bottles of perfume. A small smile made its way on her face and he saved it to his memory like photograph.

You smiled, glance through the fine glasses, seeing a blonde boy with a black suit. you'd never seen him around. He was tall enough that his body wasn't hidden but he didn't touch the ceiling. His eyes were icy blue making you wonder if his personality was as cold or if he was like hot chocolate the perfect contrast to a cold winter. Warm and comforting. His eyes caught yours and everything seemed to blur together before his face scrunched up like he was displeased about something. you couldn't help but wonder if you were the cause. You looked down swallowing your insecurities as they crept up in your mind.

His father appeared like a crow merely watching his son's next move. Draco felt his heart sink. He knew what he had to do. He dragged his feet in your direction making you look up with a returning smile before it quickly vanished. He took the bottle from the shelf dosing you in the fragrance. it soaked your hair and dripped down your clothes.

Your lip trembled as you looked back up at him but he ignored the broken look on your face adding more salt to your wounds. "You smell like you live in a barn. It's no wonder why you're in a store selling perfume. Not like you could afford it, you filthy, stinking mudblood." He finished but you don't catch the guilt in his eyes.

You're mortified and humiliated as you rush from the store, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you make your way back to Hogwarts.

That boy wasn't at all warm or comforting; he wasn't anything your mind made him out to be. He's cruel just like his eyes. that icy blue color was exactly how he was; shards of ice that were painful and cold to slide across and you could feel it, feel yourself bleeding out as you ran past people sending you weird looks.

You smelled of the flowery fragrance and it wasn't in a pretty way. It was so intense it smelled more like flowers covered in chemicals.

He had humiliated you and you swore on your heart that you'd never look at him the same.

He knew you'd never spare him a glance when you saw him at school. He looked your way and you two probably looked like fools to the outside world. He looked guilty, apologetic while you looked enraged like you saw your worst enemy.

He deserved it. You didn't even know him and he just proved what others said about him and if you ran into Hermione and her two friends she was bound to have told you about him.

He had a chance to have someone look at him differently, like he wasn't a boy who had been an asshole to others and the truth was he had been but you didn't know that, well at least you didn't before.

He was sure it was too early to say he was in love but you were something fresh like new flowers in a garden of dead grass. He was dead grass and you were just planted in his yard of disaster. He only wished he hadn't ripped you from the field.

He figured he'd just have to tell you. He'd have to admit that his father was shitty and he chose to be a coward and never change courses because he was afraid of his father, afraid of losing what made him, him because who was he If he wasn't a bully, a Malfoy with money and pure blood.

He found you, out in the yard with your friends and even there you still lit up like the sun. No one else was there because you were just so bright that they weren't seeable; but it didn't matter he just needed to see you.

He walked towards you and your eyes met his as he stood patiently hoping he could make this right.

You sighed hating how your mind and heart couldn't agree. He was still pretty even after he did something so ugly. There was nothing attractive about his actions but he was. He was shards of ice but you still wanted to try and skate across the smooth parts.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" You groaned. He pushed down the lump in his throat taking a step forward, not just now but in life.

"I'm- I want you" he stuttered trying to figure out where to start.

You scoffed "you have a funny way of showing that"

"It's not- my father came and I have- I want to make my father approve of me so I did what I did because-"

"Your a coward" you finished with a chuckle and draco tried hide the hurt on his face when you said it

"Well what person doesn't come with problems," you sighed "it's always the ones I want most that have all the issues." You rolled your eyes

"Wait! So your not-"

"Oh no I'm still mad but you can try and change my mind" you giggled seeing the frustration on his face.

"Your gonna have to stop cutting me off or-"

"Careful Malfoy don't want to lose me" you smirked

"Your lucky I like you"

"Your lucky I like you" you both say in unison

@alexxavicry, @sarahthehuffpuff, @supercoffeeblogs, @thatwattpadobsessed, @amyclare04, @kyracanwrite, @animeloverfreak310, @imafangirl22, @phildunphyisadilf, @jac1ndaa, @lovelycassy

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fluff #draco x reader #draco imagine #malfoy

[satancopilotsmytardis]

8 + Daddy kink, perhaps? 👀

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: E

Contents: Daddy kink, masturbation, anal fingering, anal sex, BDSM, multiple orgasms, praise kink, humiliation kink, aftercare, very brief mention of child abuse, light feminization, suicidal thoughts/tendencies (but in the 'I have been minorly inconvenienced and I am now writing my will, oh woe is me, you shall miss when I'm gone' kind of way)

It's such a goddamn cliche that he has a fucking daddy kink. Oh ho, the kid whose dad treated him like he was the whole world and then shifted to beating him, ignoring him, and then finally abandoning him to a gruesome death likes to call people 'daddy' while getting fucked? Big surprise. What's worse is that he didn't used to have a daddy kink. The first time he'd been getting fucked and his partner had growled, "You like having Daddy's cock in you, don't you, bitch?", Dabi had immediately recoiled, and the guy had been lucky to just walk away with second degree burns, unfinished, and alive. It had made his skin crawl and he'd felt vile. Had switched to just topping for a long while after that. Then it happened again. Was fucking a woman hard and they were both thoroughly enjoying it, and she'd been very, very vocal. He was sure they were gonna get someone pounding on her apartment door. But she'd screamed, "Harder, Daddy, harder!", and Dabi had immediately gone soft. Went from them both having a good time to neither of them finishing and having to part awkwardly because they both were very clear on why it had happened. The point is that he didn't used to have a daddy kink, it used to repulse him. 

It was some extra cruel twist of fate that it reared its ugly head when he'd developed a slightly insane and possibly suicidal crush on his weird boss. Apparently he and Spinner have two things in common, wanting to uphold Stain's ideology, and thinking that Tomura, bleeding, broken, shirtless, and his hair bleached white by his quirk, standing in the rubble of a ruined city-- was hot as fuck. The major difference is that Spinner is repressed as fuck and just thinks that he's super dedicated to Shigaraki's cause now, and not that he wants to fuck nasty with their Grand Commander. Dabi, on the other hand, knows exactly what he's about and he wants to be about Shigaraki on his dick or his dick inside of him. It's unfortunate, then, that the switch over to the PLF also came with a shit ton more work as they restructured things and Duster having to go away for a while to get treated because of the aforementioned broken and bleeding. Which means that Dabi is left, unable to see if he gets dusted for propositioning his boss, and frustratingly horny because he also didn't want to fuck one of the grunts and have Duster hear about that. He can't imagine Shig would take him seriously if he heard that he was racking up a non-arson related body count and then asked him to go to bed with him too. 

They've got plastic now though, private rooms, and everyone already knows not to bother him once he's left the main floor for work shit unless the police or heroes are about to break down the door, so he figures that he's good to get himself a dildo and a stroker and take care of himself. And that helps take the edge off, definitely. Manages to tide him over until Shig comes back from his first round of treatments, and Dabi doesn't waste any time. 

He waits until they're alone one night, finishing going over some of the reports that Duster's missed while he's been getting healed. When Shig stands to grab something from his desk, Dabi stands too, follows him and steps in close, and murmurs, "If I asked you to go to bed with me, would I get killed? Or would you just demote me?" 

Sees a flicker of surprise go through those pretty red eyes that they've gotten to see a lot more since Shig stopped wearing the nasty hands all over his face. And then they go so dark that Dabi's breath hitches in the back of his throat. "If you asked me," and Dabi feels the tables turn as Shigaraki moves closer to him. They're nearly the same height, Dabi is just a bit taller, but he doesn't feel it as Shigaraki's eyes drag over him. "I would take you to bed, and all you would have to worry about is telling me if I give you more than you can handle." 

They don't make it to bed. Dabi has never been happier to be a career slut because there is a sachet of lube in his coat pocket and Duster fucks him so good and hard against his desk that he accidentally leaves handprints burned into the surface. He cums three times and can't even move afterwards. Expects to be left there boneless until he can pull himself back together and find his scattered clothes, but instead Shig presses soft kisses along his cooling skin, waits for him to be coordinated enough to sit up, and then makes him stay put. He leaves for a few minutes and comes back with a cloth to clean him up with and a glass of water. Dabi tries to insist that he's fine, doesn't normally get anything like this, and it's kind of making something warm and shaky spread in his gut in a way he doesn't really get. But Tomura kisses him again, and he shuts up.

And maybe Dabi had been thinking that fucking Shig once would be a way to scratch that itch and get it out of his system. He was absolutely not expecting that Shigaraki would want this to be more than a one-time thing. That they would go from fucking whenever they got a chance to... dating in plan view of the PLF and League. And Tomura always takes care of him. Not just after sex, he does that too of course, cuddles and kisses, cleaning him up and making sure that he's all put back together with careful consideration that makes him a stupid puddle of good endorphins. But he also takes care of him when they're not in bed. He makes sure he gives himself time to eat when he would normally ignore it in favor of overloading his schedule with work and training. He does his best to make sure that Dabi is taking care of his health. He always checks in on him when he's being moody, and he holds him at night without being afraid of getting burned when he has a nightmare. He tells Dabi that he loves him in a month which should be too soon. It should make him recoil and reconsider what they're doing. Instead it makes him so needy that he practically throws himself at the other man, so desperate to show the things he can't say with his body.

Tomura fucks him slowly, but unrelentingly, trying to squeeze out every drop of pleasure from his body until he breaks. Dabi does break, it's just not in the way that he's expecting to.

Is writhing in their sheets, his lover's cock hitting all of the good places inside of him in a constant, unceasing rhythm as he toys with his cock, holding him, but not stroking, just squeezing a bit, just occasionally rubbing his thumb along his ladder. It's torture and Dabi needs to cum. He's on the verge of sobbing as he begs, "Please D--" cuts himself off with a sharp cry as humiliation surges through him and sends him over the edge, coating his stomach and Tomura's hand in cum. Tomura keeps fucking him, makes him cum again, fills him up, and then holds him close and keeps letting him know with every soft touch against his skin how loved he is. 

And Dabi has to cope with the fact that he is laying in his lover's arms, having a crisis because he'd almost called him 'daddy' as he'd been fucking into him so perfectly. 

He hopes that that's just an isolated incident, that some wire got crossed in his brain and it will go away, but it doesn't. It keeps flitting through his mind, when they're in bed together, when Dabi is needy and alone because Tomura still has other treatments to do. And it gets so bad that he decides that he has to fucking exorcise this from him like a fucking demon. Waits until Tomura is gone for a few days and takes out a few of their favorite toys and is determined to get this out of his system. 

He works himself up slowly, hands going over his seams, playing with his nipples, scraping his nails hard enough to leave red lines on his unburned skin. Gets himself so hot imagining that it's his lover's hands on him, his mouth, his cock sinking inside when he fills himself up with the dildo. And he feels it bubble up behind his lips again. This time he lets it slip out, "Ah, Daddy," and instead of having it bring everything to a screeching halt, it makes him hotter. He fucks himself harder, moaning and whining, begging for Tomura to give him more, but he's not even there, and he's not saying 'Tomura', he's saying 'daddy', over and over and over again. He cums harder than he thinks he ever has without a partner. And it's at that point he has to completely resign himself to the fact that he does, in fact, have a daddy kink. 

He is absolutely planning on just wasting away after that. He'll write his lover a goodbye note and leave behind a mangled, burned, but beautiful (to Tomura's bad taste) corpse for him. He does not want to examine why he's suddenly developed this kink. Why being treated with care, and cherished, and given respect and affection in equal measures, why feeling safe and secure in his lover's arms, had made him want to call him that. He's not doing it, so premature immolation it is. Which is why, when Tomura comes home the next day, Dabi is laying in their bed, somewhat despondent, having his last meal which is Toga's strawberry cheesecake ice cream. Duster takes one look at him and comes over to the bed, climbing in and pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. 

"What's wrong, firefly?" 

"I'm killing myself later. You weren't supposed to come home until after I was done. I still expect you to cry over my body." 

Duster hums, pressing another kiss to his skin and then stealing a bite of the ice cream as well. "If it's your last day, then I want to pamper you before you go. If you let me, then I promise to weep over your body for hours and when I tear down the whole world, the first thing I'll do is start to rebuild things in your image, make sure the world knows you're my Hephaestion. Does that sound fair, baby?" 

"Okay," and he lets his lover press another kiss to his cheek and they finish the ice cream together. Then Duster kisses the lingering sweetness out of his mouth and makes him get up. Runs them a bath and fills it with the green tea melts that have been helping soothe some of the soreness of his seams. They stay in the tub until Dabi would have to use his quirk to keep the water the right temperature. 

Dabi is considering life again when they get out and Duster wraps him up in a fluffy towel, doting on him the whole time. Kisses and soft touches against his skin, murmured words of affection in his ear, until he's pretty sure he's going to turn into a puddle. Not going to even have the focus to set himself on fire if Tomura keeps this up. 

When his lover gets him back into their bed, Dabi threads his hands into his hair, trying to pull him closer, trying to get him between his legs. Tomura leans over him, one hand braced against his chest, keeping just far enough back to not let Dabi close the space between them. "Are you in a hurry, firefly? Or will you stick around long enough for me to give you a little death before you go?" 

"Tomura," he whines, glad that's the word falling from his lips. His lover doesn't laugh at him, but his lips are definitely curved into a smile against his when he finally closes the space between them. Dabi drags his nails down his back in retaliation, but it's not a good one. Tomura never gets mean unless he begs for that. He's too intent on spoiling him rotten. Never had a pleasure dom before, but he can't say that it hasn't been a wonderful change of pace. 

Has his lover's hands, his mouth, moving over his body then, knows every place to touch to turn Dabi into a needy, trembling mess against their sheets. There are moans slipping past his lips as Tomura kisses along his seams and teases his fingers along his cock, strokes his balls, and then finally grabs their lube and starts to rub his fingers against him. He mewls as they start to push in. He's so relaxed from the bath, from how sweet his lover has been, that it doesn't take long before he's got three working inside of him, every pass making his cock drip more steadily against his stomach. And it's good, of course it's good, it's never been anything less than good with Tomura, but he wants more. 

"D-- Duster," he manages to correct, playing it off as getting lost in the feeling of his fingers crooking so good against his prostate. But he knows what he wants to say, feels it sitting in his throat and making more heat leech out across his veins. 

"What is it, baby? Time for you to go? Guess this will have to be enough--" Definitely a teasing lilt to his voice as he presses a kiss to the seam curving over his side. "Too bad, I would have loved to give you my cock one more time." 

"Stay," he surrenders. 

"Are you sure, firefly? You were so bound and determined before." 

"Stay, please--" cuts it off. "I want it," Rocks back on his fingers, more than ready, "I can take it, please?" 

"Is that so?" And he crooks his fingers up hard enough that Dabi sees stars. Sends such a sharp jolt of pleasure through him that he slips. 

"Ah, please Daddy!" And then spills smoke because Duster is going very, very still against him. Because that teasing twist of his lips is gone, as is the warmth in his eyes. Fear and shame sour Dabi's gut sharply, and the minute that he stops feeling like the floor dropped out from under him, he's going to squirm out from beneath his lover and set himself on fire as soon as he leaves the bed. 

But Tomura composes himself faster, fucks his fingers into him one more time roughly as his other hand wraps around the back of his neck and draws him into a hard kiss. Dabi keens. His lover licks into his mouth like he wants to eat him alive, like the right flick of his tongue will draw that word out of his throat again as he pulls his fingers from his needy body to replace them with his cock. 

"Ask nicely, firefly." 

Has definitely melted his brain already because he doesn't hesitate this time, "Please give me your cock, Daddy," sounds like he's going to die without it. He might. 

Doesn't have to find out though because Tomura sinks inside of him as soon as the words are off his lips. Kisses him hard again as both of his hands resettle on his hips. Only gives him those few seconds to adjust before he's drawing his hips back and snapping them forward. Fucks into him hard and all Dabi can do, all he wants to do, is hold on and let him. They fuck hard, teeth bruising lips, hips bruising thighs, nails cutting open bloody lines along skin. And the entire time, whenever Dabi can catch a breath, he's letting go, spilling his shame between them, 

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" And Tomura doesn't even flinch, devours that up just as readily as he has anything else that Dabi's offered him. But he's talking too, voice a growl in his ear. 

"That's it, fuck, you feel so good, sound so cute--" Makes Dabi's whole body even hotter from the praise, his cock aching and drooling constantly. Going to cum without needing a touch there if Tomura keeps talking like that, fucking him like this. "Wish you'd told me sooner, would have been happy to give you anything you want. Daddy's baby." His voice saturated with heat. "My princess."

Dabi arches off the sheets, muscles clenching tight, and his quirk makes his whole body feverish as he cums so hard he feels his release splatter against his chin as he moans, "Daddy!" One final time. Tomura follows him over, making him even fuller as they both come slowly through their orgasms and aftershocks. 

Not a surprise that Duster pulls himself together first. "'Daddy'? Is that why you were so upset? Baby, you can call me whatever you want." Lips against his cheek, which would be really sweet if he hadn't very clearly heard, 

"'Princess'?" 

Shig hums in the back of his throat, not one to cowed. "Didn't know if you would like that. Figured it could wait until we had a check-in. Already so cute, would love to have my baby girl crying for his Daddy's cock." Dabi's cock twitches, clearly a traitor and very, very on board for that idea. "But I suppose that won't happen if you're still planning on leaving me behind for that eternal sleep."

"Fucking me again right now," Dabi demands as forcefully as he can when he's a complete puddle in their bed. "But if anyone ever finds out about this, I'm taking us both out." 

Duster leans down and nuzzles their noses together, that smug little smile back on his face. "Can't imagine a better way to go, sweetheart. But you're going to have to drop that attitude. Only good girls get Daddy's cock, and you don't want to be empty, now do you, princess?" 

He shivers as his arousal surges through him again, "Please Daddy, I'll be good." 

Can't be as upset about the daddy kink as before, not when he and Shig damn near break the bed that night. Also not gonna have to worry about taking them both out in a shower of fire and ash because when Toga finds her missing ice cream, they're not gonna last long anyway. 

Thanks for submitting! The typing box is fueled by comments/replies, consider leaving one if you had fun!

#ask #asks #shigadabi #my writing #mha fanfiction #fanfiction #nsft txt #prompt response #prompt fill #Dabi gets to be a melodramatic little bitch in this one #as a treat

[leggerefiore]

I am in love with your pokehybrid au's

Not exactly a request (I already sent one about pokehybrids and a s/o who reciprocates their courting methods) but I must know more of your thoughts

What pokemon do you headcanon for each character (for any characters you haven't yet covered or characters where you have more possible pokemon you hc for them)

And what behaviours do you believe they exhibit as part of their pokemon nature?

Archie would be a Sharpedo hybrid, obviously. The most unfortunate and obvious behaviour he has is a strong sense of smell for blood. It can prove itself useful as despite the usual nature of Sharpedos, he doesn't like see people or pokemon injured or not as if his mate has certain anatomy, he will freak out thinking they're injured when it's just their period. He also goes catatonic if you flip him on his back.

Giovanni is a character I'm torn on. For legendary au, he's a possible candidate for Mewtwo, which I guess he reflect by being cruel and powerful. But normally, it's hard to pick between Persian and Nidoking. Assuming Nidoking, he certainly has the temper the poison/ground type has, but keeps it controlled to the best of his ability. He also probably has the funny trait of being calmed by a long-term partner (if he can even manage having one).

Cynthia is a Garchomp hybrid, naturally. She can be a bit wild from it – The urge to savagely hunt down prey does always buzz in the back of her mind but she resists – but mostly remains her usual self. She also sometimes has to fight an urge to burrow which is not fun, especially when she has things she needs to do. At least the digging urge comes in handy for excavating at archaeological sites. She is also has the unfortunate dragon trait of being possessive of her mate, but she is careful to monitor it.

Houndoom Cyrus is endlessly tormented by his pack urges and how he unconsciously gets enough food for him and his partner. He also hates the all consuming urge that he should be resting with them when he wants to work. Poor guy ends up cuddling with his partner most nights and hates it (actually, he loves it. He's just frustrated and feels like he's not in control). Also if he ever wags his tail, he wants to simply be consumed by the void (again).

Pyroar Lysandre is the funniest situation imaginable. He seems more unaffected by whatever instincts it draws out. The idea of living in a "pride" is not something he desires at all, but he does have the protective nature granted by his hybrid genetics. Both his partner and Sycamore can attest to him getting terrifyingly aggressive to protect them. This also feeds into his madness about this world being horrible ugly and unsalvageable.

Metagross Steven is a confusing existence. A massive intelligence does not stop one Steven Stone from wanting his rocks. No, rather, it makes it easier for him to know where even more rocks are. His behaviour is barely noticeable, but he does hates to usual urges to pin down things with his limbs. He almost feels like he's a hybrid with a Galvantula or Ariados when that happens. His torment is unending since that does not really mesh with his general personality.

Camerupt Maxie would unfortunately have a similar disposition to his pokemon counterpart. Granted, he stops himself from spewing lava. He would also prefer to live in volcanic crater, but his human needs unfortunately drag him away from that. At least his base has magma in it to remind him of his preferred home. There also is a sense of desiring a pack within in him, which blends quite well with being in with his team.

Zebstrika Elesa ironically does not have tok mant problems with the herd instinct. She likes being with people! She only hates how nervous she gets after being alone for a while. Though, the downside is her temper is unfortunately afflicted with a Zebstrika temperament. At least it makes paparazzi and creepy fans get scared off. There are upsides and downsides to everything she supposes.

Rika would be a Clodsire hybrid and it really does not affect her too much. But, she maybe seems like she enjoys carrying around Poppy more than usual. Perhaps its the urge to tote around Woopers being fulfiled in a different way. Poppy is happy to get a piggy back ride, at least.

#pokehybrid au #archie.ima #giovanni.ima #steven.ima #maxie.ima #cynthia.ima #elesa.ima #cyrus.ima #lysandre.ima #rika.ima

[exuberantocean]

This is the second time we see Ed's shaved beard come up directly after he's returned from the gravy basket and it fascinates me. Do you want to know why? Because Stede (and us, the audience) completely understand what it means, but Ed doesn't. And here's the thing, I've seen people point out this scene as a moment that proves how well Stede knows Ed:

In this scene, Izzy says "I know you think you understand [Ed]-" and Stede interrupts proving that yes, he does, and he knows exactly what Ed was up to. But here's the thing, Ed's opened up to Stede about his trauma, which allows Stede to have a greater understanding of who Ed is and how his mind works. And Stede hasn't done the same. This means that in some ways, Stede has a greater understanding of who Ed is and how his mind words, where his triggers are, then Ed does of Stede because Ed's been more vulnerable.

And, it perhaps it has to do with the fact that their traumas aren't the same. Ed's is pretty fucking deep - it cuts him to the core leading him to doubt his own worth, his own goodness, his own ability and worthiness to be loved.

But Stede's is different. While I'm not sure I'd say Stede is bereft of self-loathing, I suspect a little lurks below the surface, but it's not largely his issue. And this...this is one of the things I love about Stede. As someone who also had both a toxic home life growing up paired with viscous bullying, I've almost never seen my own internal issues presented on the screen like this. Because unlike Ed, Stede's main issue is he's afraid that he makes other people worse.

For Ed, his trauma is internalized ("I've been treated like this because I'm a shitty, unloveable person.")

For Stede, his trauma is externalized ("I make people unhappy/worse/violent.")

There's a weird sense of power in Ed's mindset - the idea that all that he's suffered is ultimately his own doing, something within his power, because he's just that horrible. The world is more predictable in a sense by thinking he's the cause, the the expense of his own sense of self worth.

And there's a lack of power in Stede's - things happen not because Stede's ultimate a bad person by nature so much as that just...somehow being around him triggers this ugliness in others. For Stede, the world is wildly unpredictable and dangerous and cruel, but it preserves his own sense of self worth.

Of course, this flattens it a little. For example, there's a little bit of self hatred or, perhaps better put, self-revulsion that Stede feels all the same (after all, he agreed with Chauncey that he's a monster at the end of s1). But in general, there's a difference in how their minds deal with their childhood traumas.

This is perhaps a long way getting to this point: while both are affected by their trauma, for Ed it's easier to trust Stede. It's easier to see Stede as someone better than himself, someone he can love and rely upon and look up to as better. For Stede, it's harder to extend that trust (the fact that his peers were also abusers adds to this) because of how his mind handles his trauma.

And Ed still has no idea why Stede reacted the way he did to Ed shaving off his beard - why it landed the way it did. How Stede interrepted.

And really, Stede needs to tell him. He needs to communicate. He needs to share that fear he has that "Ed's better off without me." Because, well, I think (hope) he's seen how Ed reacted the first time he left so I doubt he'll do it again, but I think it'll still cause trouble until Stede's open about it.

#ofmd #meta #this was probably way to rambly lol

[yeonjunszn]

ASAP! — NINE

PAIRING! mark lee x f!reader

SUMMARY! you’re not exactly the best barista at zhong coffee, but for some unknown reason (his massive crush on you), mark thinks you can do no wrong. sick and tired of his favoritism and your lack thereof due to absolute obliviousness, your coworkers are determined to fix this problem. asap.

MORE! first written part let’s go

◠‿◠ ‿◠ ‿◠ ‿◠ ‿◠

To be completely honest, Mark was kind of dreading Thursday.

The bigger, better part of him was excited to get the opportunity to teach you some of the tips he received when he was first starting out as a barista at Zhong Coffee. He was looking forward to seeing that cute little quirk of your brows whenever one of your shots wouldn’t pull, and then watching it smooth out when he helped you adjust the grinder.

When you were first hired at Zhong Coffee, he was only a shift lead and Chenle’s older brother was still manager, so he never trained you. (This was before he left to pursue his big boy job.) The shop ran differently and the environment wasn’t as relaxed. Mr. Zhong’s ideals have always matched up with Mark’s, so it was no surprise to anyone that he was named manager afterward.

He likes to think you never got the opportunity to grow confident in your job because you were too scared to ask questions. Chenle’s older brother was a stricter manager and his training wasn’t as personal. Mark assumed that disconnection is a chunk of the reason why you’ve always struggled to figure things out.

But then there was this tiny, ugly part of him deep inside that reminded him of Choi Yeonjun’s existence. It reminded him that there were other men who were equally as drawn to you as he was and he couldn’t stomach the idea that one day, one of those men just might sweep you off of your feet.

That part kept winning no matter how many times he tried to push it away.

When Mark arrives at Zhong Coffee at around 6:15 Thursday morning, he has to hold his breath and bite his tongue. The shop opens at 7 am every morning, but on days when it receives product, it gets dropped off at around 4:45, so those scheduled to stock go in at 5 that day and then continue with their morning shift as usual.

He’d nearly forgotten you were going to stock with Jeno before your training, so it felt like a punch in the gut when he saw the male standing so close to you as you put the syrups on top of the bars. You giggled at a joke he made, not paying any mind to the fact that Mark was openly staring at both of you. Jeno wasn’t even funny.

It’s when he trips over a box on his way to his office, that you finally look away from the unnecessarily buff barista. Mark blinks, standing up right and letting out an awkward laugh as he dusts his hands on his pants.

“Are you okay?” You ask with so much concern in your eyes, it genuinely hurts Mark’s heart.

“I’m good! Don’t worry about me! Finish up your stock so you can take a little break before the new hires get here for training.” He says, words coming out a little too fast and pulse beating a little too hard.

He sits in his office in complete silence for what feels like years, his focus on a blank computer screen as he processes just how down bad he is for you. It doesn’t help when he hears the softest of knocks at the door at around 6:45 and he knows it’s you. He calls out for you to come in and you do, a paper sleeve with the shop’s logo in your grasp.

“I didn’t know if you’d eaten yet this morning, so I warmed up a couple croissants for us,” you tell him shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want the plain or the chocolate one?”

And this is why Mark has the world’s biggest crush on you. You had such a pure soul, too kind for this cruel society. You always thought of others first and yourself last, not caring if it meant that you’d get the last cookie in the batch— or if you got one at all. You thrived off the happiness of everyone around you and it was something he admired so fondly.

“I know you really like the chocolate ones, so I’ll take the plain.” He answers, smiling when you take a bite of your croissant, savoring the pastry.

When all of the new hires arrive for their first day of training, Mark realizes that a group training was probably the worst idea he’d ever come up with. It feels more like a show and tell than a manager teaching new employees how to do certain tasks. It was worse when you factored in Choi Yeonjun and his stupidly beautiful lips. (How Donghyuck thought this guy was mid was beyond him. He wondered what he truly thought of him.)

Mark has to stop himself from huffing like a petulant child when all the trainees partner up and take turns trying out the bar. Of course, Choi Yeonjun asked you to be his partner, because why wouldn’t he? Yeonjun was shots and you were his milk, but his shots kept pulling too short, so he asked you for help.

“Hey Y/n, can you help me adjust the grind?”

“Um, I don’t really know how to do that myself… I always just ask Mark to do it for me.” You shrug, turning around and giving him a lopsided smile.

He pretends that it’s just the two of you when he comes over, pointing at the machine. “Okay, do you know why the shots are pulling short?”

“It’s because the grind is too coarse right?” You ask hopefully. Mark nods with a bit of pride swelling in his chest.

“Yes, exactly. So we want it to be finer, that way the espresso runs through a little slower. You’re gonna push the lever away from you— righty tighty, lefty loosey— and then you also want to make sure you’re tamping with the right amount of pressure.” He explains, watching as you do what he told you.

You stick the tip of your tongue out of the corner of your mouth as you concentrate on tamping the grind. When the shot pulls at a perfect 22 seconds, you squeal, fist bumping the air.

“Oh my god! Mark! I’ve never pulled a 22 before!” You slap your forehead, over the moon with joy.

“Which way does the lever go when it’s pulling short?” He quizzes you, the smile on his face not disappearing.

“To the right! Away from me!”

“Good job, Y/n. I’m proud of you.” He pats the top of your head.

You look up at him with this gleam in your eyes as you say, “Thank you so much! You’re the best ever!”

Mark thinks his heart might’ve stopped that day.

NINE — the best ever

PREV! eight — mark antis 1 - mark 0

NEXT! ten — NANEUN ALCOHOL-FREE GEUNDE CHWIHAE

MASTERLIST!

◠‿◠ ‿◠ ‿◠ ‿◠ ‿◠

TAGLIST! @stardusthyuck @erin-calling @tddyhyck @bigheadchen @choiwonder @neozon3nha @sunflowerbebe07 @kissesfrmwonwoo @miyawwn @sserafimez @haechansbbg @lilyidk03 @mowchiie @jaemsrina

#nct #nct smau #nct social media au #nct socmed au #nct mark x reader #nct mark smau #mark lee x reader #mark lee smau #mark lee social media au #mark x reader #mark smau #mark social media au #yeonjunszn #asap.mark❕

[dross-the-fish]

I find it so intriguing that Adam will watch "Frankenstein" 1931. My favourite book character watching my favourite movie character. It's so weird to think about!

Could I get something to do with this? A doodle/drabble (maybe watching it with Anon?)/you just writing your thoughts on his thoughts on the film, etc?

This is kind of a weird request, but the 1931 film introduced me to so many of my current interests, in goth lit and old movies, so I just find it so intriguing that Adam Frankenstein will actually watch Frankenstein!

Feel free to ignore this as long as you need to, I don't want you to be overloaded with requests ❤️❤️❤️

Before he goes into the theater he's nervous, he has no idea how Victor will be portrayed or how he'll be portrayed. He has never met James Whale and he doesn't know how Whale found the information, but he insists he needs to see it alone.

He waits for the latest viewing, pays the extra price to have a private screening so that there won't be other moviegoers, when the theater owner gives him a look as though he means to question him Adam glowers at him. No questions are asked.

Throughout the viewing Adam is quiet, his eyes never leave the screen. He's not sure exactly what he expected to feel but he's surprisingly not angry at the changes. The lumbering, brutish, mute portrayed seemed so alien and yet there was a seed of resemblance. Something captured in the newborn innocence of the creature on screen that Adam recognizes, there is a depth of feeling, the hint at intelligence that shows through even through the stiff facial expressions and the grunting inarticulate shambling. Strangely there's a sympathy in the film towards the monster that Adam did not expect to find. The monster's actions are never born from malice, merely ignorance or a need to defend himself. How Adam wishes that could have been true for himself. The movie is kind enough to spare Elizabeth almost taunting Adam that in a way this creature is softer, kinder and holds no true ill will.

Victor is unrecognizable, it's fitting that the character doesn't bear Victor's name.... He seems at least somewhat more responsible than Victor. More willing to care for the creature he brought to life despite it's ugliness. But this character is a grown man, not an unfortunate youth. The only thing he and Victor share are hubris. No it's better that he does not have Victor's name.

It's cruel that he bears Henry's.

There is no William or Justine. They are forgotten.

It's an unsatisfying experience and he finds himself unable to be angry with it but unable to say that he felt truly seen or represented.

There's an unbearable conflict in his breast after the experience, the film is a proof that the world is capable of sympathy for him...but it does not allow him to live, only the human characters are spared. The creature had to be killed. Victor and his bride both survived and live on. This is the ending the world wanted. He can't pretend he doesn't understand why and Adam isn't ignorant as to the fact that this creature is much more palatable than himself, more innocent, and still is not deemed deserving of life.

He's pensive and broody for days afterwards and he'll always be a little at odds with the film, even after time softens his shock and he grows more accepting of it.

#Adam Frankenstein #crossover Au #Adam watches Frankenstein

[delta-piscium]

#24 for the dialogue prompt lol ❤️

24.  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” “Probably not.”

“Why are there never any hot guys here anymore?” Eddie complained, voice whinier than he’d like to admit. 

Jeff raised an eyebrow at him, “you calling me ugly, Munson?”

Eddie rolled his eyes before giving Jeff his sweetest smile. “Never any hot guys who’d also like to have sex with me, or are you suddenly interested Jeffy-boy?” 

Jeff made a disgusted face that would have been insulting if Eddie didn’t feel exactly the same. The only other gay guy he knew and they were tragically not attracted to each other. What a cruel world they lived in. 

Eddie was about to complain about that instead but before he could Jeff did a double take at the bar, eyes widening. 

“Is that Steve Harrington?” 

Eddie whipped his head around so quickly it was a wonder he didn’t hurt himself. It would have been worth it if he did though because there sitting at the bar was indeed Steve.

Steve with his broad shoulders, and ridiculous hair that Eddie had been obsessed with since his first senior year. 

“Oh shit,” he rasped, his throat suddenly dry. 

He blinked several times to see if maybe he was imagining it and Steve would go away. He didn’t, he stayed right where he was. And then he was turning around and their eyes locked. Steve looked shocked for a second but quickly gathered himself, tilting his head slightly at Eddie giving a slow once-over. Just that made Eddie feel like he was gonna explode and then the bastard had the audacity to wink at him before turning back around. 

Eddie gaped. 

“Did he just wink at you?” Jeff asked slowly, “did Steve fucking Harrington just wink at you in this gay bar?”

Eddie wordlessly nodded, Steve had just done that. If Eddie had had any questions about what Steve was doing here he didn’t anymore.

Steve Harrington had just- he had- oh this was good. Eddie's lips stretched into a slow smirk as his shock slowly faded away, a new thought taking its place. 

“I don’t like that look,” Jeff eyed him suspiciously. 

Eddie ignored it, instead asking, “are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

He sighed, “probably not.” 

“I should seduce Steve.” Eddie continued before Jeff had even finished. 

“Not even close to what I was thinking.” 

Eddie pressed his half-drunk beer into Jeff’s empty hands. “Well start thinking it baby, 'cause it’s happening.” 

He spun around as Jeff muttered ‘here we fucking go’ which Eddie chose to interpret as him being supportive. Like ‘fuck yeah, here we fucking go!’ he gave Jeff a one-fingered wave over his shoulder as thanks. 

'Here we fucking go indeed', he thought as he slid up next to Steve.

dialogue prompt

#thank u <3 #i reblogged that and immediately got distracted lmao sorry #i have never done a prompt before and I was like 'this will be so easy I basically treat posts as prompts anyways' but let me tell you #i have more to work with then and also I only talk in the tags this I'm posting but yes here #had to stop myself from writing a whole thing about steves thighs and eddie wanting to bite them... so yh that's where im at today #my writing #dels steddie thoughts #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #Jeff stranger things #steddie #writing prompt #ask #ask game #wynnyfryd

[deaddovedecadence]

It’s all for you

Summery:

I wanted to ask the two of you if you’d be willing to date me,” Everything seems to flash before your eyes, every interaction, everything you’ve done with the man, and you wonder if this was inevitable when you agreed to date Yuuji.

-

Or you are dating Itadori Yuuji and everything’s great, only there’s something wrong with Itadori’s best friend, Fushiguro

Warning(s): general yandere shit, manipulative megumi to the max, pg-13

Work Text:

“I love you,” he says and the world implodes into color. You’ve been in love with Itadori Yuuji for heaven knows how long now and suddenly, he’s standing in front of you with a brilliant smile on his face, confessing that he loves you too. Your heart beats a rapid pattern in your chest, a too fast thump of joy. 

There are a million reasons, countless reasons that you’re in love with Itadori Yuuji but the main ones are simple. He’s so kind, so warm to everyone even the curse that lives in his head, and it warms your heart to see it. He also makes you laugh, not a polite laugh but a real genuine bursting out of your stomach laugh. However, the main reason that you’re so attracted to him is the simple fact that he is good, good in a way that this society does not like and yet he has not been crushed, in fact everything that he has been through seems to make him stronger, better, more kind. You have been in love with Itadori Yuuji since your first day at jujitsu tech, and the very ideas of him loving you back is magical, and makes you so very fucking happy. 

“Do you not like me back?” He says softly, all anxiety and nerves., brilliant smile leaving his face only to be replaced by something somber and scared. You smile at him, so very softly because that isn’t it at all, you just got stuck in your own thoughts as you’re so prone to do. “Of course I like you Yuuji, I just was thinking,” it’s not a lie not you don’t really want to explain that you were thinking about all of the reasons that you like him. He smiles, big and wide and you remember another reason that you became so infatuated with that man so easily, his amazing smile and his incredible muscles. You are in love with Itadori Yuuji and you've been for a long time, “Would you like to go out with me?” You murmur softly, looking anywhere but him. He rushes you, easily picking you up and joyfully kissing you all over. “I would love that,” he says and your lips come together under the moonlight 

——————————————————————————————————

You’ve been dating Yuuji for about two weeks now and it’s getting better everyday. He’s always cooking for the both of you, making sure that you eat before training, or missions or even if you’re just going out on the town with Nobara. He gives you kisses in the morning and before bed even though it makes Nobara fake hurl in the background, and sends you cat videos whenever you’re working with Ieiri-sensei. You could not have gotten a better boyfriend if you’d designed one yourself. Only, there’s one tiny problem, and it’s name is Fushiguro Megumi. You can’t exactly put a finger on what’s wrong with Megumi, it’s just that he makes you uncomfortable in the same way that Gojou does, maybe because of the fact that they seem almost immune to your ability to sing anything to sleep, or maybe it’s because they both have cruel piercing eyes that seem to follow your boyfriend everywhere. You’ve tried bringing it up to Yuuji before but he dismissed it easily, telling you that Megumi and Sensei are just scared of losing people and they look at everyone that way. you’ve been shaking off your worries ever since but sometimes like today they rear their ugly heads.

It’s movie night and all of the first years (plus Sukuna) are gathering to watch movies and just enjoy the time that you have with each other. This world does not let anyone live very long after all and you want to enjoy the time that you have while you have it. You walk into the living room, holding treats or all sorts, a greeting on your lips when you take in the room. Nobara in her fashionable loungewear sits in front of the couch, head cast back so that Fushiguro can pet it. This wouldn’t be any problem except for the fact that your boyfriend is literally sitting on Fushiguro’s lap smiling softly as the other works through his hair with the most gentle smile you’ve ever seen on the ten shadow’s user. 

“Hey guys,” you say cheerfully, electing to ignore it for now, even if you are weirded out. “Hi babes,” Nobara says lazily, obviously enjoying her head scratches as well. “Hi lo- ugh right there please gumi” Yuuji i say ts, literally tossing his head back into Fushiguro’s hand. “Hey,” Fushiguro greets politely, “I’d offer to work through your hair too but I only have so many hands.”

Before you can tell him that it’s okay and that you would like to have your boyfriend back Nobara pipes up, “You can make shadow clones right gumi?” Without waiting for his answer, Nobara continues on, “you should make one so babes doesn’t get jealous.” You stammer that it doesn’t matter and you’re content just cuddling with your boyfriend but Fushiguro smiles at you, all teeth and says, “I’m happy to help out my favorite hellion.

Before you know it, there’s an exact clone of Megumi leading you to the couch and working its fingers through your hair. You mean to protest but the clone scratches a certain spot and suddenly you’ve gone boneless in the clone’s arms and still his smile, so cruel, stays with you even as you go boneless under the clone’s hands.  He is a predator and you are his favorite prey. 

——————————————————————————————————

It’s been a few weeks since You’ve been nervous since the incident with Fushiguro and his clones, the way that he just continued on unwavering even as you told him that you didn’t need it, even though you said you were fine with your boyfriend. Although, a nasty little voice in your head reminds you, you never told him no, never said that he couldn’t so isn’t it your fault. You shake the voice away, and do your best to smile in the mirror.

You and Yuuji have a date tonight and that’s a good thing, you’re okay, it’s okay. You start working through your hair and a phantom hand gently scratches your head. You shiver and pull up music on your phone, determined to ignore this. It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, it was only one time. Besides, you have a date tonight and Nobara’s due to come over and help you pick out an outfit. “Hey babes,” she calls almost on cue, “unlock this door on I’m going to kick it open,”

You don’t doubt her and fearing for the safety of your door you immediately run to it, throwing the door wide open. Nobara envelops you in a hug and tugs you over the toe closet, humming at the different options. The first several outfits she pulls out are far too risqué and you aren’t even sure where she got them from but the one after the outfit with a neckline so far down you can see your fucking bellybutton is perfect. Nobara helps you into it and the two of you head to the kitchen to wait for Yuuji. 

Yuuji shows up after about five minutes with Fushiguro in tow, the two talking animatedly about something or other. It doesn’t really matter because somehow seeing Yuuji’s face is enough to stop your worries about Fushiguro.

“Are we ready?” He says cheerfully, and you smile and are prepared to nod when yuuji’s words really hit you. ‘We’ He said, like someone other than the two of you are going. “Yuuji I thought we were going on a date.”

Yuuji frowns looking so very sad, “I was hoping that Megumi could come with us. He mentioned wanting to try out the ramen place that we’re going to and he knows the city better than either of us after all.” You feel very small, very scared all of the sudden and you make eye contact with Fushiguro. He looks calm, smug and you remember your earlier thoughts about him. He is a predator and you are his favorite prey.

——————————————————————————————————

“Hey Nobara, I’ve got a question for you.” It’s after training, a quiet moment with you and your best friend. You’re half hanging off of her bed, hair ever so slightly tickling your face and she’s just laying on her bed, her legs over yours. She only has a low lamp on, bathing the room in warm orange light. It’s peaceful, comforting and you hate to ruin the peace but you have a question and you need it answered.

“Yeah babes, what’s up?” She responds, not even bothering to move from her spot on top of you. You shrug as much as you can sitting upside down on her bed.

“Are Yuuji and Fushiguro weird to you, like at all?” Nobara makes a noise of confusion that sounds like it could turn into a noise of fury really quickly so you hurry to elaborate, “I mean, do they ever overstep with you, either of them?” Nobara sucks in her teeth, obviously pretty confused. “I don’t get the question babes, did my boys do something to you?” You pull yourself up, staring right at her, your expression calm in comparison to her concerned one. It shouldn’t matter when she calls Yuuji one of her boys but somehow it still weirds you out a little bit.

“No never, it’s just that sometimes I don’t feel heard around them,” Nobara’s face goes from confused to cold in an instant, like she thinks you’ve somehow done something. “I don’t get the fucking problem. The boys and I have done everything to include you, Megumi included in that. Are we not good enough for you?” She emphasizes Fushiguro’s name as a reminder that he’s asked you to use his first name several times.

Immediately you’re taking her hands, trying to explain that she has it all wrong. “You and the boys have done nothing but welcome me. I’m just being ridiculous.” Nobara gives you a soft, smug smile. “Okay then, now tell me about Yuuji’s dick name, is he any good?” 

“Nobara!” 

“I’m just asking!” 

——————————————————————————————————

It’s been a few days since your ill attempted date with Yuuji and you don’t really know how you’re feeling about it. See on one end of the spectrum, you’re frustrated, angry and all you want to do is scream at your boyfriend until he sees why you’re so upset. He’s been asking you for days why you’re so upset and you don’t even have the words to explain it.

On the other end, you know that your boyfriend is a good soul, and far kinder than you are. Hell, the entire reason that you fell in love with Yuuji is because he’s so kind, so warm to everyone even the curse that lives in his head, and sometimes you know that he’s going to accidentally fuck up. Even though you know that it isn’t your boyfriend’s fault you want to scream, want to yell. Maybe, you think, your boyfriend's lovely arms entering the chat, you should go find him and tell him that you aren’t upset. 

You end up finding Yuuji in his bedroom, lying down in such a position that his glorious abs are on display. Immediately you’re pouncing, jumping on him before he has the chance to notice that you’re at the door. He laughs, grabbing you by the waist and kissing you soundly on the lips.

“What’s got you in such a good mood, huh pretty baby?” He asks against your lips, “Do you wanna fool around?” You murmur into his mouth instead of answering the question. He grins at you, easily picking you up and moving you around so that you’re exposed to him completely. Half way through a thorough fingering that has you seeing fucking stars, you ask him where he got so good at this. He actually laughs, the hand not in your coming up to rub at his neck. “Megumi taught me actually.” You startle but that makes his fingers hit your good spot and you moan, again. “What do you mean, oh, Megumi?” You manage to ask in between moans.

“When I told him that I was in love with you he offered to teach me how to fuck correctly. He taught me by fingering and fucking me until I was sobbing and begging him to stop.” The worst part is that you can imagine it. Fushiguro with his long lovely hands making your boyfriend beg for his mercy, and you know that Fushiguro has never had any to give, not even for your lovely boyfriend. You want to see it and at the same time feel uncomfortable with the fact that it was Fushiguro teaching your boyfriend all of these things and not the two of you working together to learn.

——————————————————————————————————

“Ieiri-sensei, I think my boyfriend is in love with Fushiguro,” Your mentor startles so badly that her cigarette drops right out of her mouth, hitting the ground with a sharp sizzle. She just stares at you like you’ve both somehow gone to another dimension or something before sighing heavily, the same sound she makes when she has to deal with Gojou for too long. “Kid,” She starts, lighting up another cigarette and immediately beginning to smoke again,” I literally just had to convince your boy not to sing you a love ballad. I’m pretty fucking sure that he’s in love with you.” 

You stare at her, eyes wide open and sad, trying to figure out how to tell her everything that’s happened in the month since you’ve begun dating your boyfriend. “Um, while we were doing less than pg things he told me that he did less than pg things with Fushiguro so he could learn how to do that with me.” Ieiri sensei stares at you for a second, her dead eyed gaze unwavering and suddenly, everything is spilling out of you, “Sometimes it feels like Fushiguro is hunting me and he made a shadow clone to pet my hair before I even had the chance to tell him no and Yuuji keeps inviting him on our dates and Nobara doesn’t even take me serious when I try to tell her. I even told her that I don’t feel heard around them and she just asked me if I didn’t appreciate their friendship.” You pant, completely out of breath from your little panic session even if you do feel better. 

“I don’t even know what to say for most of that but I can tell you that there was something similar when I was in school. Gojou and Getou, my best friends, were both in love with Utahime-san so they devised a plan. Getou and her began to date but Gojou invaded almost everything they did. She came to me once but at the time I was so annoyed that she was hurting what I saw as mine that I just dismissed her fears.” You take this in and apply it to your own situation, think about everything that Nobara, Yuuji and Fushiguro have been through together and understand. It’s not that Nobara doesn’t care about you, it’s just that those are the two people that she’s been through everything with and she won’t lose them even for you. “Ieiri-Sensei, if you had to do it all over again, would you make the same choices?” She shrugs, “Probably, now tell me what’s wrong with this corpse.” 

——————————————————————————————————

Fresh from your talk with Ieiri-Sensei, you head back to your dorms, only to be intercepted by a very excitable Yuuji, “Come on baby, Megumi has something to tell us.” You’re genuinely curious, not excited at all but definitely curious as to what Fushiguro has to say that makes your boyfriend so excited. The two of you head up together and Yuuji practically shoves you into his bedroom. Fushiguro’s already in there, sitting elegantly on the edge of the bed like he belongs there. “Yuuji, hellion,” he greats, calling you by the nickname that he’s been calling you since he found bashing a curse’s head in with a cursed energy marked baseball back. He recalls the story with a fond tone in his voice but you remember being terrified, feeling weak, feeling like prey for the first time in your life. Sometimes you wonder if he goes it on purpose if it is his nature to be a predator, just like it is Gojou’s. “Do you know why my boyfriend’s acting like a weirdo?” You ask him, trying to act as normally as possible. He nods, gesturing to the bed as if he owns it. Yuuji bounces towards it, literally jumping into Fushiguro’s lap like he belongs there. Your own approach is slowly, more tentative but you sit down all the same. 

“I wanted to ask the two of you if you’d be willing to date me,” Everything seems to flash before your eyes, every interaction, everything you’ve done with the man, and you wonder if this was inevitable when you agreed to date Yuuji. You think about, time literally slowing down to you ask you try to decide if it’s worth it to attempt to protest. You knwo that it’s futile know that Yuuji will choose Fushiguro, know that Fushiguro will always get what he wants, ko what you don’t have a choice. Everything narrows down to ‘yes’ and ‘no’, and you know that there is only one real answer. 

“If Yuuji’s okay with it, then I accept.” Your boyfriend beams at you, leaning over to gently kiss you, whispering thank you in between every kiss. 

This was inevitable but unlike Utahime, at least you were allowed to make the final choice. 

#yandere #romantic yandere #jjk #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro #fushiguro x you #itadori x megumi #itadori yuuji #itadori #itafushi #idatori x you #yandere fushiguro megumi #yandere jjk #ieiri shoko #x reader

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise

Chapter Fourteen : A Choice Description: Saera Targaryen was her father's forgotten daughter. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her sister and seeks solace in the arms of her uncle. Not realizing that the consequence of their affair is just as dire as her sister's. masterlist

<<previous chapter

SAERA SMILES AT DAEMON AS SHE ROCKS THEIR YOUNGEST TO SLEEP. He smiles back at her, his eyes shining with unfamiliar warmth. He could see that being a mother suited her. "When he falls asleep, we should try for another one." he whispers seductively, trying not to wake his son.

She laughs — but it also comes out as a snort, since she didn't wish to wake her baby. "How befitting of a prince to say," she smirks as he places a kiss on her and Daelon's forehead.

She stares at her son's features, carefully memorizing every bump. "He looks exactly like you," he comments as she hums in approval. There was a softness in her son's features, his round head and light purple eyes — that was all Saera.

"I agree," she replies as she angles herself to look at her husband. "They grow up so fast," she adds remembering the times she held her oldest twins. And now they were making their own destiny.

She pauses for a while, thinking about ways to bring up Alyssa's engagement. To be honest, she hasn't made a choice yet and was hoping to ask for her husband's opinion.

"About Alyssa," she begins as his eyebrows raised. He loved Alyssa — although he wasn't much close with her. "Yes?" he questioned, remaining eye-contact with his beautiful bride.

She looks down at her son, breaking his gaze. She takes a deep breath, gathering her words. "There are those who seek her hand. Prince Jace and Prince Aemond, although I cannot make a choice." she rationalized as he frowns.

If he had his way, then his children would never be married. There were cruel men in this world — and as a parent, you only wish to protect them. "And it matters less of politics and more of the whims of our daughter? Correct?" he queried and she nods.

She could care less for the politics of this court, the only thing she cared about was what her daughter wanted. "My personal choice would be Aemond — and I hate that boy with passion. But they've always been close, attached to the hips since they were born. Alyssa does not give a damn about Jace, or any of his siblings." he enunciated the last parts.

It was true, Alyssa and The Strongs were never close — it was always them and Daegon. "But won't she hate us? If we pimp her out this soon? I know I hated my father for doing the same thing" she inquired as a groan escapes from his pink lips.

"That is something only she can answer." he replies, while standing up and dusting his pants. "I'll ask her, but for now you must rest." he smiles, pecking her lips lightly and taking the baby from her hands.

"You had a very long night." he winks, walking towards the door and exiting the warmth of their room.

DAEMON'S EYES NARROWED AS IT ADJUSTED TO THE BRIGHT LIGHT, he walked towards his daughter who was sitting underneath the Weirwood Tree. "Uncle Daemon," she greets, standing up and straightening her gown.

He smiles at her, pressing his son closer towards his chest. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks as he halts in front of her. "Sit down," he commands as they both settle underneath its roots.

"Is everything alright?" she questioned in a concerned tone as he nods. He comes here to settle Saera's doubt, and also to show his daughter that he cares. "Matters regarding your future have been put to attention. And I mean betrothals." he clears up as she nods.

Her head has always been in the clouds, believing that marriage was a fairytale. But she wasn't stupid, she had her own opinions too — and didn't wish to marry an ugly old lord.

"Who asks for my hand?" she asks in a jovial tone, already wishing for someone in her mind. He raises his eyebrows not expecting excitement from her. "Your mother reveals Prince Jace and Prince Aemond," he adds stress to the last part and she bites back a smile.

Her face betrays her however, as she began to turn red. Daemon chuckles, recognizing her facial expression. She covers her face, and he smirks lightly. His predictions were correct.

"Prince Aemond is it? A little cunt — but he'd be a willing puppy." he shrugs as she reaches for a book and covers her face with it. The mere mention of his name gives her body a jolt of joy.

"Father, stop it!" she whines as a laugh escapes from his lips. She removes the book from his face as he brings a finger to his lips, pointing towards her brother and motioning for her to be silent.

"Alyssa likes Aemond," he teases, tickling the sides of her stomach. Prompting her to hit him with a book. "Stop it!" she complained hiding her laughter from The Rogue Prince.

DAEGON OPENS THE DOOR TO HELAENA'S STUDY, his eyes moving back and forth from her children to her. "Princess Helaena," he greets as she continues inspecting her signature centipede.

"Prince Daegon," she replies in a low tone, allowing for her children to play with little beetles. "I didn't know that you returned," she attached with her loony voice as he slumps down on the floor beside her.

"It's not your fault, we didn't really tell anyone either." he smiles as she hands him Jahaera. The little girl was adorable, she had big bubbly cheeks and small white hair. It was clear that she was Helaena's daughter.

He holds the baby gently, remembering the times where he had to take care of his own brother. His heart reaches for Helaena, as rumors tell him that her husband isn't exactly a good person.

"Are the dreams better?" he asks, knowing about her nightmares. She shakes her head, and places the bugs on their jars. The childhood fascination never really left her.

"No," she whispers as her attention remained plastered on the insects. "What are they about?" he asks finding beauty in her dreams. Especially in the ways she'd present it. Beautiful poems, and sometimes flowerful words. He liked listening to it.

For the first time, she turns her head to look at him. Her mouth almost pressing into a thin line, if not for her son who babbled constantly and tried to reach her specimens.

"Spools of Green become Spools of Black. Spools of Black become Spools of White." she rambled endlessly, as if she was seeing something happen in front of her. Her eyes zoomed off, but she was shaken out of the trance by Daegon's hand being placed upon her shoulders.

"Are you alright?" he asks with a soft smile, and she nods her head. Reaching for Jaehera.

>>next chapter

A/N: What do u think the prophecy could mean?

taglist: @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @mirandastuckinthe80s @duhitzdae @schniiipsel @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @brezzybfan @rockerchick05 @flawroses @joygirlmelii @princessmiaelicia @prettybiching @saraandthejets1 @naturallyspontaneous @hnybitches @lxdyred @inpraizeof @claudie-080102 @1-800-isabellapotter @mamamooqa @23victoria @curiouser-an-curiouser @queenofshinigamis @alexisabirdie @kindaslightlyacidic @anaisbambia @my-dark-prince @sebastian025

#daemon targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #coaxed you into paradise