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He wouldnât take a single picture with me. Photobooth. He said it was pointless waste of money, but he never initiated any mirror selfies.
He held the phone in that photo with her, he took the photo. The dates matched, I sent the text on 25th. She went away 2 or 3 days before he got back to me.
We were more than acquaintances, more than merely friends yet we are not quite lovers. So I guess we are nothing and yet everything in between. Only existing in the gaps and never truly real enough.
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I mean, it's just a thought but, Jason Peter Todd is so 'Like Real People Do' coded. Yes, it's the song by hozier, which is, by the way, my favorite artist.
Okay hear me out. He is a zombie, imagine reader being the one who pulls him back from the earth (figuratively?). And the foundation thought is that we do not ask, we do not want to know, we don't care what he has done, what he did, but let's just love like real people do.
Like if it isn't possibly the sweetest thing ever? I won't ask about your past and neither will you, but, let's just kiss like real people do.
⧠Broken ribs suck. You donât just âwalk it off.â Breathing hurts. Laughing hurts. Existing hurts. Characters with rib injuries wonât be doing heroic sprints.
⧠Concussions arenât instant naps. Dazed vision, nausea, dizziness, maybe even personality changes, but theyâre not going to collapse neatly like in the movies.
⧠Blood loss is sneaky. Itâs not just about dramatic pools of blood. Itâs dizziness, confusion, and the body getting cold as circulation tanks.
⧠Adrenaline lies. Someone can take a serious injury and not feel it until the fightâs over. That âI didnât realize I was bleeding until laterâ trope? Very real.
⧠Twisted ankles are brutal. One bad step and suddenly running is off the table. Even walking hurts like hell. Perfect way to ground a chase scene.
⧠Burns linger. Even small burns hurt more than most people expect. Blisters, infection risk, constant pain, itâs not just a cool scar later.
⧠Dislocated shoulders = useless arm. Characters canât keep swinging a sword or firing a gun. Theyâre basically fighting one-armed until itâs fixed.
⧠Shock is a thing. Pale skin, trembling, rapid heartbeat, and eventually disorientation. A character might not even realize how bad their wound is.
⧠Stitches arenât magic. Getting sewn up is painful and recovery takes time. Theyâre not instantly battle-ready after a needle and thread.
⧠Scars tell stories. Some fade, some donât. Some stay sensitive forever. Donât forget the aftermath when the wound becomes part of the character.
He may be a bad guy but that's my babygirlđŤśđž Yes, he committed multiple crimes, should be locked up in jail, and is a red flag but he's hot as fuck with a face card that never declines.
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summary: Being Rhaenyra Targaryen's heir is a difficult thing, but what happens when you also become one of the Realm's most prized posessions?
pairings: cregan stark x velaryon!reader, reader x platonic targs/velaryon
i. the dear daughter (2.8k) - At one-and-twenty and eight-and-ten, barely a year after their marriage, Ser Laenor Velaryon and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen welcomed their first child, a daughter, into the world. The girl immediately became dear to the whole court, coddled and spoiled by all, but mostly by her grandsire, King Viserys I. The man saw in his granddaughter her mother, and as the girl grew to look like his late wife, Aemma Arryn, it became even clearer that he doted on her more than he did to his own children or his other grandchildren.
ii. about children and trouble (8.2k) - It is reported that in the year 121 AC, when the Realmâs Jewel was only six summers old, her hatchling Merrax was eaten by the Cannibal in a strange turn of events that found him moving from Dragonstone to the Dragonpit in Kingâs Landing. Princess Rhaenyra demanded to have the dragonâs head cut, but as nobody ever tried nor dared to get close to the Cannibal, it was impossible to do it. Thus, her daughter took the matters into her own hands.
iii. little big lady (5.0k) - Court whispers tell us that during her third pregnancy, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen was particularly sensitive. She managed to cover it up pretty well, apparently, but she had one weak spot: her daughter, her firstborn and heir, who later on witnessed her little brother Prince Joffrey's birth by request of her mother. Despite openly disliking the experience, it is said that the Realmâs Jewel insisted on being present to future labours in case things went downhill â and she did, attending her mother in giving birth to all her future children.
iv. dragons' scars (6.4k) - And after the events that happened during Lady Laenaâs funeral at Driftmark, two dragons were left scarred.
v. you'll change your name or change your mind (and leave this fucked up place behind) (5.3k) - When the Kingâs Justice â the royal executioner â died, the Realmâs Jewel proposed a perfect replacement: NÄdrÄsy, her dragon, the infamous Cannibal. Even if many eyebrows were raised at the Small Council, the King hastily agreed, happy to have an excuse for keeping his granddaughter close to him, even if it was for only a few days every moon. Or, as it always ended up, for a bit more than that.
vi. but I'll know, I'll know (tbd) - At the ripe age of ten, the Realmâs Jewel was nominated by her grandsire the King, despite all the protests of the Small Council, the official Royal Ambassador; thus, her voyages throughout the Seven Kingdoms started, and yet another nickname was forged for her by the Smallfolk: the Wandering Princess.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Why is happiness always short lived, itâs like when i can really enjoy it, feeling Alive, something is bound to happen, itâs like the price for that fleeting happiness. Why canât my happiness be completely mine to savour?
alhaitham x gn reader
walking through a garden with him
reupload from my old blog @.i23kazu
fluff + 0.5k words
al haitham's walks are practical. they are never for fun, nor the love for sunshine or feeling the grass beneath his feet â his feet always have a place in mind. they take him where he needs to be. they had never walked with the lightness of romanticisation, nor with the whimsy or delightful for the fun of it â
â until you.
he's lighterâ happier, even, now that this angel of a person sits across him with the most darling smile to grace his presence.
"would you care to accompany me on a walk?" al haitham asks one day, and he turns to meet your curious gaze.
"you'd like to go on a walk?" you push yourself off your seat at the counter. "i don't mind accompanying you."
"is it truly that surprising?" a soft sigh parts his lips â he looks almost disappointed, even. you tiptoe to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, smiling as you watch his features turn upwards in quiet delight.
ask him a year ago if he desired anything like this, and he might have scoffed lightly and turned away.
"no," you giggle and set your heels down. "i guess it's just not something you see every day."
silently, you grab his hand â it's so much bigger than yours â and you can feel him squeeze it a just little tighter today. his hands are warm and big, rough and calloused but they also fit perfectly with the curve of your hands. it's perfect.
al haitham looks happier, you think to yourself as the grass beneath your feet greets you with a gentle hello. the flowers sway in the afternoon breeze, and the sun seems to hide away a little, in fear of burning you â it's so pleasant outside today... perhaps he's in a good mood because of that?
you watch him as he hums softly, peering at the prettysome wildflowers below.
"come here, darling," he motions, pointing you to look towards the flowers that sprouted up.
"there's so many, hayi. it's beautiful." you gasp softly, grasping onto his fingers tenderly.
he smiles, and mumbles something under his breath.
"what was that?" you tug on his arm, looking into his eyes. he looks almost embarrassed to say it louder. he clears his throat and glances back at the wildflowers.
"if i had a flower for every time i thought of you, i could walk through my garden endlessly."
you're standing there, pleasantly surprisedâ shocked, evenâ into silence. did you hear that right?
"eh?" is the only thing that leaves your lips.
"..forget i said anything, it's alright." al-haitham pats your head, albeit awkwardly â flushed and maybe the tiniest bit embarrassed.
he silently wishes he hadn't said anything at allâ silly alhaitham, who was he for thinking that someone of his demeanour would ever pepper his words with that like a lovesick fool?
"nooooo, al haitham!" you whine softly, nuzzling against his shoulder. "that was so sweet! i was just .. taken aback, with how sweet your words were."
"is it not obvious enough how infatuated i am with you?" he rests his head atop yours, breathing lightly and lovingly squeezing you tighter.
the next thing he feels is a gentle, saccharine sweet kiss being pressed against his lips â he's hungry for more, now, ravenous even â like a monster yearning for an ounce of love. maybe he wouldn't mind being the lovesick fool, just this once, if it was you.
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