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undying-love · 2 months

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Paul being very secure about his sexuality: A compilation

"The reason why we didn’t do Up Against It wasn’t because it was too far out or anything. We didn’t do it because it was gay. We weren’t gay and really that was all there was to it. It was quite simple, really. Brian was gay…and so he and the gay crowd could appreciate it. Now, it wasn’t that we were anti-gay – just that we, The Beatles, weren’t gay."

“It was always obvious Brian was gay and we could talk to him about gay things, but he would never come out with, ‘Hello, Paul, you’re looking nice today.’ I was quite obviously un-gay, due to my hunting of the female hordes. I think we all gave that impression."

Q: You must be very secure with yourself.

Paul: I think it is that. I'm OK with gay people, too, because I'm essentially comfortable with my sexuality. I can goof around with gay people. I sort of know who I am by now. And it's about time.

"I imagine he heard it [Dear Friend]. I think he listened to my records, but he never responded directly. That wasn't his way. We were guys; it wasn't like a boy and a girl. In those days you didn't release much emotion with each other."

"One thing he told us was that one in every four men is homosexual. So we looked at the group! One in every four! It literally meant one of us is gay. Oh, fucking hell, it’s not me, is it? We had a lot of soul-searching to do over that little one."

"There's a song I do called Here Today which is specifically written for John. That sometimes catches me out. I realise I'm telling this man that I love him and it's like I'm publicly declaring this in front of all these people I don't know. I sometimes wonder what I'm doing.

Q: In “Here Today”, you talk about your love for John. Did you ever say that to him, in those days?" Paul: No. I'm sure we both felt it. But that is not something two boys use to say to each other. If they were gay, maybe. Otherwise it is rare that that happens."

"My view is that these things are there whether you want them or not, in your interior. You don't call up dreams, they happen, often the exact opposite of what you want. You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, 'Shit, am I gay?' I like that you don't have control over it. But there is some control -- it is you dreaming, it is your mind it's all happening in."

"We were in New York before he [George] went to Los Angeles to die, and they were silly but important to me. And, I think, important to him. We were sitting there, and I was holding his hand, and it occurred to me — I’ve never told this — I don’t want to hold George’s hand. You don’t hold your mate’s hands. I mean, we didn’t anyway. "

"Yeah, I think he [John] did [love me], yeah. It wasn’t actually a spiky relationship at all. It was, uh, very warm, very close and very loving, I think. All The Beatles. We used to say, I think we were amongst the first sort of men to come out openly – and you remember, it was quite sort of strange in those days, we’re talking about a long time ago now when homosexuality was still sort of largely illegal."

"Because he [Robert Faser] was gay, it raised a few small-minded eyebrows, and funnily enough, one or two of them were from within the Beatles: ‘Hey, man, he’s gay, what you going off to Paris with him for? They’re gonna talk, you know. Tongues are going to wag.’ I said, ‘I know tongues are going to wag, but tough shit.’ I was secure about my sexuality. I always felt this is is fine. I can hang with whoever I want and it didn’t worry me. I mean, we didn’t share a room or anything."

"With Robert’s thing of course there would be gayness. But there was no open gayness. If there was to be gayness it would be a quiet phone call that Robert would go and take in the bedroom or something. That was one of the good things, actually, because I knew he was gay and he knew I wasn’t gay so we were quite safe in our own | sexuality. We could talk to each other. "

Lastly, there is this odd anecdote that may or may not mean anything, but here it is:

One of the strangest of these incidents came at the end of 1992 when Mark Featherstone-Witty attended the MPL Christmas lunch. Mark took an accountant friend to the meal, a McCartney fan he'd known for years, which led to a strange and unpleasant row. By Mark's recollection, Paul's manager Richard Ogden summoned him into the MPL office the next day where he read him the riot act for bringing an unwelcome guest to Paul's party. 'What do you mean by bringing someone who was so obviously gay to Paul's Christmas party? Have you any idea about the responsibility you carry in this project?' he allegedly asked. 'What are you talking about?' replied Featherstone-Witty, explaining who his friend was. 'But he was gay, you stupid fucker!' 'No, he isn't.' 'You've got to be careful. You can't do anything that would embarrass Paul...'"

Fab : An intimate Life of Paul McCartney by Howard Sounes

#paul mccartney #Mr “I'm very secure about myself”#mclennon #oh paul #This is a very long post #probably my longest ever #but there is a lot to unpack here

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 9 months

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Stolen | Canonverse Angst Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 1.3k ✧ notes ➼ canonverse, implied soulmates!au, angst, death, levi being in pain :(, all hurt no comfort, i'm not sorry, idk if this is any good but if i didnt post i was going to rip my hair out plus it gave me an excuse to make some sad sad gifs ✧ warnings: blood, death, canonverse-typical violence, prepare for sadness :)

Even successful expeditions were rarely anything to celebrate. There were generally too many people that died to really make any result worth it. Even if it did technically move humanity forward, the loss of human life always made victory seem somewhat sinister.

This expedition certainly didn't go well, but no one died, which was already something that was practically unheard of. Levi was able to easily account for everyone assigned to his flank, however he had no way of confirming the survival of the soldiers in the left flank—the one you had been assigned to.

Externally, he wasn't too worried. You were capable. Your squad was capable. However, competency and capability could only get you so far. That was how much of an advantage the Titans had over humanity.

Plus, he shouldn't even be having the selfish thought of wanting to immediately confirm your survival. You were supposed to be just another soldier. There was no reason as to why he should prioritize you over anyone else that had come onto the battlefield with him.

Levi sighed to himself as he blatantly told himself that lie. He knew it was a lie. He hated that it was a lie, but your relationship had long moved past the point of being professional.

He remembered the conflicting thoughts that stirred within him when he woke up next to you earlier that morning. The two of you had made a habit of going to see each other the night before an expedition, starting the night off with discussing your shared ire over the world you found yourselves living in before it quickly escalated into another form of stress relief that involved elated breaths and intertwined legs.

You'd see each other, sleep with each other, and then go on your separate ways. This morning was the first one in which Levi didn't immediately leave upon waking. He was usually quick to leave, occasionally electing to avoid staying the night entirely.

The only reason for this was that he didn't want to catch feelings for you. He knew it was a slippery slope, which was why he found himself so pissed that morning when he was forced to admit to himself that he did catch them. He could picture the exact moment that he had realized it. You were stirring in your sleep and a part of him longed for the idea of waking up to that one peaceful moment every day—with the sun shining through the window and you curling up against his chest.

It was just sex at first. It was a good stress relief and you were both easy on the eyes. He had consistently distanced himself emotionally, even on the few occasions in which you would ask him to stay for a while longer on especially stressful nights. He didn't want to get involved in a relationship when either of you could die at any moment, but it was getting harder and harder to stay away from you, and even harder to get himself to leave your bed in the mornings.

Sure, it was just sex—until it wasn't.

It was driving him nuts. He couldn't possibly see himself continuing this friends-with-benefits relationship with you, but he didn't want to cut you off either. He wanted, and needed more.

He had spent the majority of the lengthy ride back to Wall Rose strategizing over how to approach this. Levi had already made up his mind that he was going to bring up the idea of committing. He felt almost pressured to do so. He wanted you by his side, and not just as someone that was readily available whenever he needed to fuck.

He knew some type of celebration was going to occur once they got back to the Walls, given the fact that no one died. It helped keep morale up. He knew you hated how rowdy those could get, so he figured a good opportunity would be to walk you outside to finally have that talk, or maybe he could just go to you as soon as you were back within the Walls and the both of you could spare a minute to be alone.

Levi was sick of waiting and dancing around or avoiding the topic entirely. No matter what happened next, he was determined to show you that your feelings were reciprocated, and not by just a small amount. He couldn't rest until he took that next step to commit himself to being by your side.

~~~~~

Disaster struck. Of course disaster fucking struck. Levi should've anticipated this the minute he noticed that there were next to no Titans on his side of the travel formation.

There was a stench of blood and death in the air as soon as he reached the rendezvous point. The left flank had been ambushed by multiple aberrants. They were still in the process of searching for and retrieving survivors, but the preliminary conclusion was that nearly the entire left flank was wiped out.

Levi currently stood still, his eyes falling on a drape that covered a suspiciously familiar looking body. He was standing only about a foot or two away, with his hand hovering over the corner. All he had to do was lift it to confirm whether it was you or not, but he already knew.

The longer he held off from confirming it, the longer he could continue telling himself that you were okay, and that he can still hold onto the hope that he would still get that chance to tell you what had been brewing underneath the surface.

He took in an unsteady breath and forced himself to grab onto the drape, trying to contain his shaking.

Levi took an unsteady step back, dropping the drape as soon as he came into contact with your eyes, now lifeless.

Every single shared (and occasionally stolen) moment with you flashed through his mind. Those lifeless eyes of yours were once filled with mischief, pain, lust, glee, and hope. He remembered how annoyed he'd get with your tenacity, and how that tenacity ended up contributing to the fact that you were the only person that he felt like could really be competent on the battlefield against the Titans. Your competency was why, even after countless failed expeditions, his faith in you to make it back to the Walls was unwavering.

You had become an odd source of comfort for him. Even when he was actively denying his feelings for you, there was still a huge part of him that would feel safe around you. When he was with you, he wasn't Humanity's Strongest, he was just Levi, and that made you a source of stability in his life that he had been lacking elsewhere.

From the minute that he set eyes on you after you joined the Scouts, he knew that something was different about you, and that there was something drawing him to you. He avoided admitting it for years, and now that he did admit to it, it was too late.

A dark, but unreadable expression fell over Levi Ackerman's face.

He knew.

He had known this for years. He knew that his curse was that the moment that he decided that he wanted something was the exact moment that he lost it.

He knew that you were supposed to be here with him, alive and well, and not as a mangled corpse that resulted from their war with the Titans.

He finally recognized that it was you that was supposed to be by his side, but not in this lifetime—not anymore.

Your life—the life the both of you were supposed to share—had been stolen from him in the blink of an eye.

#: @chaotic-on-main @romantichomicide95 @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @belovedackerman @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @evas-leslas @kokosmiles @mrsmiagreer @catskze join my taglist! and pls pls lmk if you wanna be taken off :')

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackermann x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi angst #levi #levi ackerman #levi ackermann #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

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sunkissed-zegras · 8 months

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🍵 adam fantilli (your fav !! 🤭)

MY HUBBY BUBBY AMAZING POOKIE AHHHHHHHH ILY, u know me so well, queen <3

i love this man so much, the way I WOULD LITERALLY DIE. FOR. HIM.

it was the night after the draft, and it felt like the whole was just perfect, for you and adam. watching him walk up that stage, you felt an overwhelming sense of pride, not only for his achievement but for how far he'd come.

now, you two were sitting in his hotel room talking, as if everything was normal, as if you guys hadn't been through the most life altering night. that was the thing you loved most about the dynamic, even if the whole world was falling apart you knew you could be your most honest and truest self with him.

"can you believe how fast everything has happened?" you asked, reflecting on the whirlwind of the draft.

adam nodded, his eyes still shining with the excitement of the night. "it's been insane, hasn't it? it's just felt like a dream come true, i don't think anything could make me feel bad right now, that's how... good i feel."

you smile, thoroughly and genuinely. "me too. i can't believe you made it ─ i mean, i always knew you could it but wow, now that you're actually here, i'm just so excited for you."

the thought of being away from adam hadn't even crossed your mind that entire night. you had been thinking about it for months straight but now that the draft actually happened, seeing adam so happy made you feel ecstatic for him.

there was a quiet and comfortable hush that took over the atmosphere of the hotel room as you both just enjoyed each other's company. adam had scotted a little closer to you, laying his head on top of your chest.

you moved your hands and ran them through his hair, comfortingly.

"have you ever been in love?"

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the abruptness of the question. "i.. i don't know, why?"

he stayed quiet for a moment before speaking again, moving his gaze up to meet yours. "i think i'm in love with you."

your heart raced and your thoughts whirled, adam continued to hold your gaze with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. the room seemed to hold its breath as you processed his unexpected confession.

you two had only been together a few months but it did feel much longer in your head. your heart started beating and it didn't help that adam was laying right on top of it.

in that moment, you realized that you had felt something wholehearted and sincere for him from the very beginning. it wasn't just the obvious attraction or infatuation you'd felt with guys in the past; it was a connection that had grown stronger with each day, that had become constant in your life. you remembered the countless times you'd laughed together, supported each other through all the tough times, and found comfort in each other's presence when it was hard.

a smile slowly spread across your features, and you found yourself unable to hold back the emotions that had been building within you. "adam," you whispered almost breathlessly, your voice filled with warmth, "i think i'm in love with you too."

as your words hung in the air, you both felt a sense of relief wash over you. adam had a big grin on his face too, as he leaned in and pressed his soft lips against yours, his hand warmly resting on your cheek.

it was as if a weight had been lifted, you finally felt like you two were truly honest with one another. your hearts now aligned, the night after the draft became even more unforgettable, marking the beginning of a new chapter in your relationship.

MY 100 FOLLOWER CELLY!

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rataticaisdreaming · 7 months

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day 2 - fusion @intrualityweek

Summary: When Remus and Patton can’t stop fighting, the mind decides to give them a chance to be in each other's shoes.

Pairing: Platonic Intruality (he/him for both)

Word Count: 1397

Warnings: Verbal fights / Hurt/Comfort / Intrusive thoughts / Remus being Remus / Cursing / Mention of sex

“Those are awful things, Remus! You should think of more cheerful… innocent stuff!"

"Oh yeah, because everyone wants to live in Care-A-Lot, daddy-o."

It has been like this for weeks now. Patton getting more and more distressed at Remus’ outbursts, which have been more common ever since the last major issue Thomas faced. Their fights seemed personal and within their own bubble, seeing as they were right next to each other. Janus and Roman had no problem ignoring them, it was so childish and unnecessary that not even Virgil was affected by this. It was getting annoying though. Once everyone left those two to bicker alone, Patton frowned and sank down to his room. The duke was so unsettling! It wasn't so difficult to keep your thoughts to yourself and keep things nice and decent.

Throwing himself to the stuffie filled couch, he reached for an old blanket and his Tender Heart teddy bear. A wave of sadness filled him, tears silently fell from his cheeks into the blanket he was holding so close. Everything felt like too much.

He hated arguments so much. The loud voices and negative feelings made him feel so small and overwhelmed. The need to just get out, get out, get out. How he closed his eyes and just prayed the tears wouldn't come out, this is not the time for big emotions. He just wanted to hide and make the feelings go away.

━

Well, fuck him. There he goes again with his big mouth and inability to just shut the fuck up!

No one wants to hear you anyways.

He is trying! He really is! Just spit out the mild ones so his head guts will be at ease until he comes back to his room. That’s exactly what he did… then why was today so difficult?!

You were never meant to be one of them.

And why the fuck is his brain not shutting the fuck up?! He just wanted some rest for God's sake.

You should impale yourself with the bed's wooden poles.

Just get in a onesie, what if you get tangled up and suffocate?

Get in bed and under the blankets, you should have hate sex with the others.

Hug your emotional support octopus stuffie and feel them hug you back… oh, the ways they could crush you to death.

Just close your eyes… It will be okay in the morning.

Except it won't be. It will be this over, and over, and over again until you die. Alone and in pain and no one will care about you…

━

"We need Patton. It's clear to me this issue needs his emotional expertise."

A quick hand gesture is all Logan needed to make the moral side rise in his spot. Eyes shut tight and in clear distress, softly bouncing on his heels.

"Sorry kiddo, your old man just needed a little rest. Felt more tired than a hooker after an orgy."

What… in the world?

The room falls silent and everyone is suddenly looking at him. Roman and Virgil look at each other stunned, eyes so big they seem ready to pop out. Janus scoffs in disbelief, like he finally heard how much of a petty bitch he is. Logan adjusts his tie, looking down at the floor, maybe he’ll find his worth somewhere in the dust. Thomas looks like he just saw a puppy being shot in front of him.

Wow, this little mind of his is not slowing down, is it?

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't know why I said that… must be reaaally out of it! Maybe I just need some coffee and breakfast to get myself back on track." he said, awkwardly tiptoeing his way to the kitchen.

No one knew how to react to what just happened, so Roman spoke first.

“Maybe all that time with my brother is messing with him, speaking of him.” he said as he summoned Remus with an annoyed frown “Where is my copy of Princess and the Frog?”

Remus rose in his spot and stared at his twin like a deer in headlights, after a few seconds, he answered.

“I'm pretty sure I placed it back on the shelf.” he said, timidly hugging himself.

“Well, it's not there!”

The escalating tone made Remus flinch and look away, that seemed to be the wrong thing, because Roman spoke again.

“I swear in the holy name of Julie Andrews, Remus, if you did something to it…"

"I promise I didn't! I- I'm sure I placed it on the shelf, maybe I can help you find it! Just… Please lower your tone."

Roman was taken back by his response, his brother looked on the verge of tears. He has never seen the duke express himself like that. Weirded out was an understatement,

Before he could say anything, Patton came back and…

"Well, I can safely say the dishwasher liquid does not, in fact, taste like lemon and oranges."

Something was wrong.

━

"You will not leave this couch until you figure out what happened, do I make myself clear?"

It had been ten minutes since Logan left them there. Ten full minutes of distressed bouncing on his seat, eyes shut as he tried his hardest not to voice his thoughts. After what felt like an hour, Patton couldn’t take it anymore.

"Remus, all these thoughts… are they yours?" he said in a small voice Remus barely heard. "They are horrible…"

“I know they are!” he yelled, causing Patton to flinch. Upon seeing the reaction, the creative side broke down.

"I hate all of this! It all feels like too much!”

Patton’s knowing smile made him feel warm and troubled. A question popped into his head. He scooched over a little bit and started to fidget with his sparkly sleeves.

“Do you feel like this all the time?"

Patton looked up and sighed.

"Mhm"

"Do you get these thoughts all the time?"

Remus looked up with slightly red eyes.

"Yeah…"

"I never realized how much pain you were actually in… I thought you said those things to annoy us…" he started, receiving a soft laugh from the duke "But they are like a swarm! I need- I need them out!"

“Shh, it's okay. They will calm down, here, tug this string."

The moral side did with a tired hand, when he let go, a soft “quack” came out of nowhere. A tiny duck dropped from the air into his lap.

"Heh… And where did this little guy come from?"

“Little gift.”

A small giggle escaped from Patton’s lips and he changed his posture, visibly calmer and less tense. After working some courage, Remus decided to speak as well.

"I never knew you were feeling this much… It's suffocating. Every emotion feels fucking intense and it hurts! How do you live like this?"

"I just do… Comes with being the heart, I guess. My room helps me, it calms me down when it gets too much."

"Huh. Do you think I could… hang out there sometime?"

"Sure! Janus and Logan have been very insisting on the whole "finding a distraction" thing. We could do a puzzle together or watch a show."

"Yeah… I'd like that."

━

It has been like this for weeks now. Remus learning to use his inner voice, mindful of how loud noises impact the other’s emotions. Patton started to listen to Remus' ideas and ignored the ones that were plainly intrusive thoughts.

By the end of an afternoon discussion, they were already looking at each other in anticipation.

They sank down and arrived at Patton's living room. There was an unfinished puzzle on the coffee table as well as board game boxes laying on the side of it. Remus picked the neon green notebook and glitter pen and sat down next to the moral side.

They summoned popcorn, sodas and m&ms. Even some lemon slices for Remus. Whenever he got unwanted thoughts, he would write them down. Patton would hug his teddy bear, as a silent sign that they needed to slow down for a bit, when the emotions got too intense.

It was working for them. They also made a mental note to never anger the mind again. It would be fantastic to see Roman get all of Virgil's anxiety, but Remus was a good brother and decided to write that thought down for now.

#rat's fic #rataticaisdreaming #nothing like a fic that was written at midnight 😌✨#will probably revisit this one 🤔#really want to explore this idea further #sanders sides #remus sanders #patton sanders #intruality #intrualityweek2023 #intrualityweek #intruality week #sanders sides fanfiction

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heraldofcrow · 8 days

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Gimme the questions 1 to 6 for the Bloodborne fandom. Roast the shit out of those fuckers ^^

Holy shit, I’m gonna die and not in a good way fgdhj

—

1. The character everyone gets wrong

Fine, I’ll say it since I’m sure it was an obvious opinion of mine already.

Gehrman. Just in general. Not even just on tumblr, but in the fandom for years. It’s been literally reduced to a joke to paint him a certain way and I’m fairly convinced there is more evidence against that view than for it at this point. BUT ALAS. This argument ain’t dying any time this century if it hasn’t within the last nearly 10 years.

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

As an aroace person, this is borderline impossible to answer because I literally never think of sexual dynamics between characters.

But….I guess, Annalise would scare the shit out of any romantic partner, I will say that. (lmao idk what this means).

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

I vaguely remember it now, but there was a post one time that was really mocking anyone who thought the Vilebloods were in any way not 100% evil child-eating freaks that killed thousands of innocents to be immortal and the Executioners led by Chadgarius were totally pure and holy.

I just…like to see the bad qualities of both the Church and the Vilebloods. I don’t think either were all that great…I mean, it’s a corrupted church and an elitist monarchy.

But that post made up a bunch of stuff about the Vilebloods that quite literally was not true. It was a once in a blood moon rant and no hate towards the poster though. I was just very against that take.

4. what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

In the Bloodborne fandom, I actually don’t really block anyone. I let them block me. I believe I may have blocked a few NSFW artists that didn’t tag their stuff once, but I just prefer to keep my profile fairly open in case anyone wants to sort stuff out. I know we can all see each other and I don’t mind. The crow in me demands I stay on the rooftops to see everything in the neighborhood, even if I sometimes spot a vagueblog or two xD

5. worst discord server and why

I wouldn’t know djfhfhd. I’ve never been in a proper fandom Discord server. The one me and my friends have is basically a group chat of four really close people. We just made the server to have less clutter and to have a therapy channel xD

6. Which ship fans are the most annoying?

I’ve seen plenty of various ship fans be rude or loud about how they head-canoned the characters involved, so I’d rather not make any sweeping generalizations. That kinda thing bothers me. I have had bad run-ins with shippers that liked a pairing some of my sweetest mutuals liked, so I can’t even say “Oh those shippers are all annoying.”

Some people can make you feel that way briefly, but there’s always a charming handful of shippers that save the day.

#alright Little please don’t be disappointed but there was no proper roasting xD #i save my harshest feelings for private moments between friends lmao #but even then i tend to feel bad #anyway at least i made some of my stances clear finally #and any haters can now celebrate #i’ve been opinionated in 4k wooohooo #bloodborne #bloodborne fandom #asks #mutuals #ask game

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stripperblvd · 2 years

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obviously I gotta ask for an eddie x male reader 🥹

prompt:

eddie with a fellow “freak” bf that finally gets to see him graduate, and they’re just completely going crazy, screaming and chanting with the hellfire club when he gets his diploma, throwing roses and weird shit at him as a cute joke, and the other kids are just looking at them all weird, but Eddie is just so proud and happy. just complete tear shedding fluff where they all get their happy little ending!!

Moving Forward (Eddie Munson x male!Reader HCs)

Warnings: absolutely nothing, just pure pure fluffffffff. Maybe a little intimate mention but nothing huge.

You swear you probably would have broken the trailer with how much you two boys jumped when Eddie got his final’s results.

You swore that your heart had physically stopped, if it wasn’t for Eddie’s lips making contact with yours.

Most definitely giving him a “reward” in bed later that night.

Most of the days leading up to graduation were spent smuggly walking through the halls, laughing at all the stares you were given.

You’d hear the occasional “freaks” maybe a slur or two, but you’re favorite of all time was one you overheard in math

“Fucking weirdo’s, probably getting pity passed.”

Neither of you minded much, comforted by the fact that not only would you not have to move on from high school without your boyfriend but you wouldn't have to see Eddie repeat senior year a third time.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy, I’ll buy all the booze you want when I turn 21.” Eddie would laugh, whenever you brought up the fact that he would be the indefinite buyer.

And finally the day is here.

Graduation Day. 86’ Baby

You spent the night at Eddie’s hanging up both your suit and his dress pants for the big day.

Lots of kissing, I mean in a few hours you won’t ever need to deal with pesky annoying teachers again in your life.

Definitely getting high, I mean how else are you supposed to graduate?

Fucking sober? Hell no.

Getting flustered all morning with all the compliments Eddie keeps giving you.

“Looking great sweetheart”

“My pretty boy”

“Damn, cutest cheeks in all of Indiana”

Is this man TRYING to give you a heart attack at 9 in the morning?

Wayne would rather die than let you two step out the trailer without at least a few pictures.

“Now you boys just stay still. I said still damnit, Eddie get them hands out that boy’s hair!”

After what felt like hours he’ll finally be satisfied, a few good proper pictures, some silly ones, and a whole lot of blurry ones.

Getting there all the parents stare. Some whispering to their spouses or pulling their kids closer to them.

It’s not everyday you see Eddie “The Freak” Munson and his boyfriend walking with their caps and gowns at a Hawkins High graduation ceremony.

The ceremony drags on, waiting impatiently for each other's names.

You swore you would get your diploma taken away within 5 minutes when you were called.

Hellfire raising actual HELL when they heard your name, and screaming at the top of their lungs when they see Eddie walking the stage smuggly.

Getting bombarded by the same boys the second the ceremony is over, throwing a bunch of confetti, DnD dice and the occasional cigarette bud.

Needless to say, you knew exactly what to do when you saw Eddie starting to tear up, overwhelmed by the support despite all the looks people were throwing at him.

More uproar as you both kiss, raising your diplomas in the air.

“Let’s run like Hell baby”

I love these nerds, man. Anyways, thank you very much for the request anon, I truly hope you liked it.

7-2-22

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #st4 vol2

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ripperdoc-is-daddy · 1 year

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Cuddle Puddle

Adult Alpha!KiriBakuTodoDeku x Omega!reader

Reader is Afro-Arab coded. READER IS AFAB!

Cuddle Puddle is a term that originated within the Polyam community. This is a Polyam friendly FLUFF fic!

Please Like, Reblog and follow if you enjoyed reading <3

Your friends always underestimated you. This all started because they teased you and said you couldn't make a nest for one let alone multiple people! It was an ongoing joke that greatly irritated you. One day you finally had enough and you decided to prove all of them wrong!

You don't start building your nest till the next warm, rainy day. You make it big enough for six people to cuddle or flop in comfortably. They would still be forced to touch each other though. The thought brings a smirk to your eye because who doesn't enjoy messing with an Alpha's mind every so often?

Once everything is perfect in your den you text each man and let them know you are finished. You weren't gonna demand they show up. They were grown-ass adults with busy lives and jobs. They would show when they showed up. The first one to arrive being the loudest one to brag about being the first in your next, EVER! Naturally.

Towards the evening you are disturbed from your book reading by your doorbell being rang incessantly and your door being knocked on so hard you think it might split. Dreading such repairs, you hop out of your nest, dart out the den, and down the hall past your living room then into the foyer. "Mooooving!" you yell loud enough as you slip on a Hawks house robe. The little wings make you smile as they bounce.

A few giggles later and you open the door on your friends. Katsuki is mid-knock when you open the door and Shouto is just staring at you with his finger just above your ringer.

"Wanna come in?" you ask, noticing that all four of them are here. And they come bearing gifts. Jumping back, you step aside and allow them entry into your home. Eyeballing their offerings as they pass you, remove their shoes and place on their house slippers. The men set their gifts on the table and you zerg rush yourself over and began to pull the items out their bags.

First up is Izuku Midoriya! He brought you an extra-large bowl of Tendon and seafood pho! You cheer happily and do a lil happy wiggle. Taking the lid off the container you deeply inhale the scent of the contents. The sweet yet savory aroma has you salivating. “Thanks, Izuku!” you say beaming up at him as you move on to Shouto’s offering. Inside was a cute plushie of a D20 that you had been wanting ever since the company announced it. You chuck it at his head playfully, expecting him to catch it. Instead, it bounces off and rolls onto the ground. Your group looks down at the die as it comes to a complete halt.

“Nat 20” Shouto announces and the rest of you swear.

“Of course, your head would alter the dice roll. I call interference!” Katsuki barks out angrily as he snatched up the bright red and black official Sorcerers of the Peninsula die. You pop it up into the air a few times then chuck it at the Ashen Blonde’s head. It makes contact and bounces off his nose to roll on the floor. He starts to yell and you shush him pointing to the settled die on the ground. “An 11.” Izuku states as he returns from your kitchen, he had disappeared off to with a spoon and some chopsticks.

The green-haired man busies himself setting up your pho while you cheese at a ranting Katsuki. “Aye, simma down now! It ain’t that big. You just ain’t shit, that’s all.” you taunt the Sanguine-eyed man and duck behind his best friend. “Not my fault you suck.” you continue to antagonize the ripped man while his equally as shredded, yet taller bestie held him back laughing.

“Enough you two! Come on Bakubro, you know she is just doing this to get a rise out of you. This isn’t very manly of you. Let it roll off your shoulder.” Eijiro says with mirth as he rests his hands on the blonde's shoulder. Katsuki glares at the both of you then storms away to one of your dining chairs and plops down into it. “Whatever, hurry up and open the gifts. I want to see this amazing nest you supposedly made,” he growls out.

You flip him off, grab the taller redhead’s basketball shorts waist and pull him with you towards the table. Not failing to miss how the other three alphas stiffen at the action. Eijiro loops an arm around your waist when you stand in front of the black walnut circular table and points to his gift. The only one actually wrapped. You hum and look up at him. The sharp-toothed ginger leans down and nuzzles your neck. Which gets him growls from the others but a happy chirp from you as you return the action and nuzzle into his cheek. “Mine next,” he says motioning with his finger towards the parcel.

You take your hand off his elastic and bend over to grab the package. This time you failed to see how their eyes roved over your body. Taking in every curve before they would collectively swallow and send each other warning glares. You grab the parcel, none the wiser and bounce on your heels happily.

“Aiight! Let’s see what’s in this baby! Can I shake it?” You inquire impatiently. “Do whatever you want, gorgeous,” he replies nuzzling into your Jumbo Bantu Knots. You had them done up into a mohawk crown of sorts. Little gold clasps and cowrie shells interlaced into the braids that made up the knots. The decorations were also a gift from Kirishima from a few years back.

Wiggling your butt to-and-fro you chirp again then tear into the brown parchment paper that wrapped the inner contents. You then shriek which has every alpha in the room standing up and surveying for a threat except for the man holding your waist. “I take it you like them?” He questions rhetorically. Your head nods frantically and you can’t stop wiggling happily against his abdomen. “Yaaas! I love them! Thank you!” your turn in his arms and jump up to give him a neck hug after setting the box down.

The other agitated alphas in the room lean over the table to see what was in the box that had you so excited. Several groans and facepalms follow. “Should have known it.” Grumbles Katsuki who is now sitting on your table with Shouto. Izuku is watching your interaction with the redhead with a strange look in his eyes. The redhead smirks at each of the other men while your back is turned and brings you in closer. Pressing you tighter against his body.

You let go of Kirishima’s neck and pry yourself out of his grasp. You are used to tight bear hugs from the man. He releases you with a deep, throaty chuckle and you return to your gift. Several sets of waist beads in various colors. Including a solid leather and cowrie set. You hear the blonde huff and you give him a warning side-eye. Setting the box aside, you thank Eijiro again then motion for the grumpy Bakugou to give you, his gift.

He glares daggers at you but is forced to relent after a tic. With the most dramatic sigh you have heard from the blonde since you have met him, he shoves a pretty emerald green gift bag into your chest which you barely catch. It slightly crumples with the force of his exertion and he winces. “My bad,” he says in a form of apology. That catches all of you off guard. Your head nods slowly as you reply while reaching into the bag to get at its contents. “Iz all good homie. You jus’ excited right?” You wink at him lightening the mood.

Your hand touches several cold objects and you stare down into the bag. Vision obstructed by the purple and yellow decorative paper shoved into the bag. Your eyebrow quirks up at him and he blushes. Turning his head to the side. That was new.

You flip the bag upside down over the table and the contents spill out. You separate each item out into its own pile and gasp. Katsuki had gotten you your favorite brand of henna cones, bangles for your wrists and ankles, armlets, necklaces, new rings for your fingers, ears, and nose as well as a very beautiful and out-of-place tasfift. You pick up the golden headpiece embedded with emeralds and rubies and look over at him. He was looking away from you but you knew he could feel the burning intensity from your stare.

Which you held until he turned to meet your gaze.

You were going to question him on if he knew what set this particular piece of jewelry belonged to until you saw his normally tanned skin taking a tinge of red from the blush. All the way down to his neck. Ooooh. He knows. Now that is different. You opt to tuck your lips inward towards your mouth and bounce your head breaking eye contact whilst humming. “Thank you, Katsuki. Especially for this. I’ll be honored to wear it when time comes.” You say politely with a delicate, slow nod in his direction.

The other men shrugged not understanding what was going on while you carefully placed each item of jewelry back into the bag and set it off to the side while you went to your noodles that Midoriya has prepared exactly the way you loved them. The men have a silent conversation between themselves while you noisily slurp your noodles. Izuku’s dark emerald eyes glittered with joy. You suspect the man probably made it himself judging his reaction.

Your bowl is finished off and quickly replenished by the Hunter green-haired man who then exits your dining room to go to your living room. You can hear them talking quietly amongst themselves while you continue to eat and think over the thoughtfulness of each of their gifts. You would need to do something for each of them in return for their kindness. You finished up and cleaned up before you went to go join the men folk.

Lightly padding into your living room, you sneak up behind Katsuki and poke your head in between his arms and his side. “Whatcha whisperin’ abouts?” you inquire casually. The blonde stares down at you with his eyebrows twitching. The other three are different shades of lightish red and avoid eye contact with you.

Your throat clears and you snap your fingers to get a response from them. Which was a series of growls as they reminded you of their secondary genders. Standing up and wedging yourself against Katsuki’s side you ignore their bullshit and motion to the group. “Y’all done gossiping like biddies and ready to see my magnum opus?” You try your best to sound blasé but come off instead as mischievous. Not helped by the ass slap you give the Sanguine-eyed man. You know your forwardness would catch them all off guard and that was fine by you. This was your home and you would do whatever the fuck you want.

Extracting yourself from his body, you skip out the room and down the hall to your den. Bounding in and jumping into your nest. Bundling yourself up into your favorite blankets and waiting for the four alphas to grow a set and venture in after you. Because right now they were staring into the room but not entering it. Looking between themselves and the wiggling mass of blankets with only a set of eyes peering out that was you in the center.

You see them playing a short game of rock, paper, scissors that ends with Shouto as the winner. The heterochromatic-eyed man steps in cautiously and smoothly approaches your max comfort and cozy nest. He can smell the items he scented somewhere behind you and off to the side. This pleases him. Not so much the odors of the other scented items you got from the other men. He chose to ignore that and present the underside of his wrist to you and lower his head exposing his neck to you in askance to enter your nest.

You chuck a strawberry shortcake plushie at his head as you accept his request. He chuckles at your unusual way of saying yes and creeps into your space. Stealthing his way to his section of your nest. Well, he assumes it is his since his scent is all over it but it is still your nest and only your nest until you say otherwise.

Next up is Izuku. His section is in front of Shouto’s. He pokes at the edge and pleads with his eyes for you to let him in. Tapping the tips of his index fingers together. You nod your head and bean him with an All Might Plush he got you several years ago. Apparently, it was a rare one from his Silver Era. Whatever that meant. You weren’t an All Might stan. He cheered, picked up the plush, and went to inspect the section that smelled so strongly of him. Giving an apprehensive nod to Shouto when they made eye contact.

Ignoring that weirdness, you waited for the next plebian. Eijiro strode up confidently and sat down but back ramrod straight smiling down at you. He winked as he presented his bare, exposed wrist to you then lowered his head so his neck was open to all. You smashed a confetti-colored octopus plush into the top of his head and growled. He grabbed your forearm and pulled you slightly out of your mass of blankets to playfully snap at you. You stick your tongue out at him and he releases you chuckling. He walks off to your side as you reburrow yourself into your warm pile. “This is amazing! You really put your all into it didn’t you?” he beams and speaks to you as he looks at his section of the nest and fawns over everything.

That leaves one Katsuki Bakugou as the final person to ask entrance to your nest. He doesn’t look very comfortable and you can imagine why. No alpha wants to willingly share a nest with any other alpha if they can help it. You think he is going to leave with the way he is shifting his weight but he surprises you and approaches your nest. You peel the blankets off of your head and sit up to receive his request. The other three alphas also turn to watch.

Your jaw hits the floor when Bakugou kneels and presses his forehead to the floor with his arms folded in front of him, fingertips touching in a formal submission. The other Alphas bristle and look at each other over your head and make varied gestures that you fail to catch cuz your attention and focus is solely on the man before you. This is the second overt gesture he has made towards you that has caught your attention this day. The first being the tasfift from earlier.

Not wanting to disrespect his formal and proper ask you lean over and tap his neck with the tips of your index, middle, and ring fingers of one of your hands. Dragging them back up to rest at the top of his head above his brow. Two more taps and you retract your exposed limb and hunker back down in your blankets. Not feeling so bold as to continue that exchange in front of the other alphas in the room.

Katsuki sits back up, nods to you then walks off to his spot behind Kirishima and across from Izuku. The men busy themselves with the inspection of their respective areas. Saying their "oo’s" and "ahh’s" at the different items you had stashed. Shocked you kept certain things and touched you had others. A few items like old hoodies you had lied about and said you lost were called into question to which you would feign an “I have no idea how that got there. Weeeird.” while they glared at you.

Eventually, you got bored and turned on the tv that was in the room and began watching a vampire flick. It looked cheesy but that was ok. You enjoyed B movies. You are halfway through by your own assumption when Katsuki’s burnt caramel scent invades your nose and you are pulled back against his chest. Eijiro’s head finds your lap while Shouto and Izuku’s hands claim your own.

The actions take you by surprise but you opt to not draw attention to the situation. They don’t smell agitated nor are they acting annoyed. They instead seem to be content to relax and just vibe with you while watching your “Shitty and poor taste!” movie. The label courtesy of the broody blonde whose torso was warming your back.

At some point, you all fell asleep in one mass cuddle puddle. Everyone curled up tightly around everyone else. Arms slung around each other as the alpha men made a warm, comforting and secure circle around you. Protecting you from whatever might dare disturb or threaten y’all. You couldn’t tell who was where but the security that they provided collectively lured you deeper into your sleep and the last coherent thought you had before REM took you was that you were grateful to your alphas and loved them.

FIN

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the-last-flame-au · 6 months

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[ The Ember That May Reignite The Fire ]

"Cassandra Jones!! You cannot be serious right now!!" April shouted. It was rare for her to truly get mad and chew someone out and even rarer for April to cuss out Casey but this was something that couldn't be left unaddressed.

"Look- I couldn't just leave a baby out there to die. You're the one who's been telling me for years to do the right thing and now that I do it, it's still wrong?! Where is the logic in that O'Neil?" Casey defended herself while holding the dirty orphan she picked up on patrol a little closer to her chest.

Somehow this little creature had awakened a new side in Casey. A caring one. Not in the way she cares for the Hamato clan or the resistance. She started to care like a mother and all the small child had to do was cry.

The situation Casey had found the orphan was dire, her squadron had just pushed back a small group of Kraang hounds and were securing the area for supply runs when the child cried out beneath some rubble.

It was a human child that Casey picked up and something about that small, dirty face made her soft inside. The moment she had picked up the human infant he stopped crying, opting out for more content coos.

"Casey you are out of your mind! We are barely scraping by already! We cannot handle a small baby here! Our resources are limited!" April chastised Casey some more. "Just- just let me try okay? Maybe this kid grows up to be strong and bright. Maybe he's gonna be the

solution to the mess outside. Let me try and raise this kid. April please."

Whenever Casey got to emotional talk April couldn't keep up her tough demeanor. It didn't help that the small child in Casey's arms was malnourished and still adorable. April understood that these two would be an incredible little family and a major pain in her ass. "Fine. He's your responsibility though. You make sure he is fed, clothed, bathed, gets his shots, trains when he's old enough and most important of all: make sure that child is loved. If you wanna be a mom, do it right" commanded April.

Casey saluted, a sign of respect yet there was softness in both women. For each other and the small child that was now snuggled up against Casey's chest and sleeping soundly.

"He shall be named CJ!" Casey proclaimed loudly. It had only been a few hours since she brought the infant into the base and introduced him to her found family, the Hamato clan.

Mikey especially loved the little boy from the second he saw him. The child gave him hope. Hope that within all this death and destruction new life could grow. It gave him hope that his brothers didn't die for nothing. That there might be peaceful days again.

Mikey missed his brothers so dearly, he lost them when they were all just children. When they were thrust into a situation so much bigger than themselves, even bigger than the Shredder.

Michelangelo hoped that this child, CJ, would be the key to making everything up to his beloved brothers.

"May I ask what CJ stands for Casey?" Splinter spoke up. He was also excited at the existence of this little boy, he missed his own so much. Feeling like a failure of a father unable to protect them from the world, from danger.

"Well it stands for Casey Junior, of course!" Casey, now senior, proclaimed proudly. "Casey… Junior..? You named the child after yourself?" Draxum questioned. "Of course! There is no greater fighter than I so this shall set my son's destiny in stone!" shouted Casey.

Casey junior seemed unshaken by his mother's loud antics. While Casey laughed at her own genius she caught unimpressed looks from April, Draxum and Splinter.

The only one not paying attention was Mikey. He was busy holding CJ in his arms, enthralled by the little life he held. CJ seemed equally curious about Mikey, reaching for his beak and trying to grab at him.

The baby babbled away, incoherently but still very headstrong in what he wanted. Mikey entertained the young boy while the other four still argued about Casey's name choice.

"I will protect you CJ, I promise no bad thing will ever happen to you." Mikey spoke, though it was little more than a hushed whisper, just loud enough that CJ might hear but no one else. Mikey failed at protecting his brothers but he would not fail in protecting this child.

That, he swore to himself.

Story written by @spacemimz Art by @noxvee6

#rottmnt #rottmnt au #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt the last flame au #the last flame au #nox art #rottmnt michelangelo #story posts

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k1ng0fn0b0dy · 2 years

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💜 DAY 2 OF MONSTER WEEK — WEREWOLF TECHNOBLADE

[1500+ words]

[Gender-Neutral]

Description: It's in the title. You wander into a forest and meet a huge wolf, bonding ensues.

[Read the rest under the cut]

You had been adopted a few weeks ago. The couple, Mr and Mrs. Bagans, who adopted you were on the older side, feeling more like grandparents than parents. You didn't mind though, you were too old to have people parent you now.

The town you moved to was on the more rural side. It wasn't small by any means but most of the fields were full of crops with walkable trails to most of the town. In fact, there was even a forest right behind your new backyard, though you'd have to hop the wooden fence.

Of course, like any normal teenager, you hop the fence regularly. It's not really your fault. With the town being as close-knit as it is, you had to go somewhere isolated to get any real free time, without the pressure of ruining your new and tentative relationships within the town.

The forest is full of noise. You can hear all kinds of critters around you, though your personal favorite are the chipmunks. They're very cute and they always give you a wide berth, which is appreciated.

You had liked to think you knew the forest pretty well so far, emphasis on had. You don't know what confidence had overcome you today but you walked farther into the forest than you ever have before. So far, in fact, that you've found yourself lost as the sun starts dipping, casting the forest into a chilling darkness.

Your only comfort was it was still loud. All the critters were awake, so you weren't alone. At this point, you were trying your best to find something familiar, although you weren't quite sure if you were going further into the forest or out of it. Guess you'll find out eventually.

Eventually, the sun really was gone and the forest was quieter. You had to face the truth now, you were lost. Your heart pounded in your chest, as if to fill the void of silence. It was so loud that for a second you didn't realize how quiet everything had gone.

Your breath hitched despite yourself and you pressed yourslef into a tree, waiting to see what had made all the animals flee. Rapidly, something ran towards you. Something big, with heavy footsteps and an imposing shadow.

You were going to die, alone in a forest where no one would ever find your bones. You would never have Mrs. Bagans' deicious apple pie again or go pick up groceries with Mr. Bagans in his old, bruised truck. Immediately, you started crying.

You could care less how snotty your nose had gotten. The only things around were bugs and they woudn't be able to tell your embarrasing last moments if someone did manage to find your body. You were already on the floor by now, sobbing harder now that it had gone silent again. Now you really were alone.

Slowly something walked towards you with obvious, heavy footsteps. You're mid-wiping your tears away when you look up, instantly screaming.

The wolf was about 10x larger than any wolf you've ever seen and didn't instantly pounce when you screamed. Actually, you were pretty sure it had winced.

When you had stopped screaming, though heaven only knows how long that had taken, you were crying again. You felt like a crybaby with how much you've been crying and obviously, the wolf thought so too. it plopped only the forest floor, seemingly bored by your tears.

You didn't wipe away the tears this time, worried that maybe if you looked away, it would attack. it didn't though. You were just both staring at each other, silently.

Now, you wouldn't say you're a nervous talker. Although, in another (more honest) way, you were absolutely a nervous talker. "Hi," Your voice wobbled like you were seconds away from crying (you were). "Mr. Terrifying Wolf, please don't kill me."

The wolf huffed like it was offended at the thought. You nodded like it made any sense at all. "I didn't mean to interrupt you with my crying." Definitely true, although technically it was the reason you were crying in the first place. "You're good to leave, please."

You whispered that last bit under your breath but Mr. Terrifying Wolf definitely heard you. Its lip raised in an almost snarl that fell quickly when you whimpered. "Sorry, I'm sorry. You can leave whenever you want."

"I'm lost right now," You continued, not even taking a breath. You were scared that if you tried, you wouldn't be able to. "I don't know how far from I am from town. I've only been in Fleurrh for two weeks. I don't even know if people will look for me, they hardly know me."

You burry your head in your lap, "I sound crazy right now. Rambling to a wolf because I'm scared I might die. Maybe dying would be easier at this point, I would stop worrying."

It stared at you, emotionless, before slowly standing up. Now that you saw it at its full height, without tears blocking your sight, you could tell it was definitely 10x larger than any regular wolf, maybe even bigger.

You pressed your eyes closed and ducked your head again, trying not to start crying again. it was walking towards you, maybe it finally got hungry again. Maybe you were finally going to die.

A hard, sand-paper-like surface, uncomfortably damp, licked the side of your face. Your eyes popped open on their own, staring, dumbfounded at the large wolf. It stepped back with a very dissatisfied face like your salty, teary face tasted worse than whatever raw mouse it had eaten before this. it stamped its foot down, looking like a particularly upset dog, and stared at you expectantly.

You leaned heavily against the tree you had been sitting at as you stood, slowly. Mr. Terrifying Wolf paws at the ground and you slowly walked toward him. "What's happening right now? Am I really listening to a wolf right now?"

Mr. Terriffying Wolf stared you down and you shut your mouth. He turned away and you muttered, "This is a very bad plan. I'm going to get myself killed." Then, you started following slowly as Mr. Terrifying Wolf leads you deeper (out of?) the forest.

"This is pretty," You mumble as he leads you in a canopy, full of far more light than the rest of the forest. Mr. Terrifying Wolf plops himself down on a bed of grass so you sit down too, a bit too close to them than you'd like.

"It's so cold here," You complain quietly. You were so sure Mr. Terrifying Wolf was already asleep but he peeks over at you lazily, letting you know he was not, in fact, asleep. "Sorry," You murmur, "I guess I didn't prepare for getting lost in the woods today."

Mr. Terrifying wolf huffs, like you were joking. To spite him, you nod, "Honestly, if this had happened on Tuesday, I would've brought my lost-in-the-woods coat and worn my lost-in-the-woods shoes."

You swear that if this wolf had been human, he'd be smiling. Actually, now that you think about it, "You act oddly human."

"I mean," You speed your way through saying, "You didn't hurt me. You understand me. You even brought me here." You look over and stare quietly for a second, he stares back. "You're a lot smarter than most humans..."

Mr Terrifying Wolf closes his eyes and you let the conversation die there. You sigh deeply and turn away, curling into yourself and letting yourself go. As you drift into an uneasy sleep, you can almost feel fur brushing against your chin.

{《☆》}

You wake up warm, hands tangled into soft sheets. Your eyes burn as you sit upright, the sun blinding you. You look around rapidly, seeing no trees, no wolf. Just strong, white walls and the clean white bedsheets you're tangled in.

When someone walks in, you find out that you had been found at the hospital's door easily in the morning. Covered in dirt and fur. Mr. and Mrs. Bagans worried over you the entire week, insisting to take the blame for your own reckless actions. In fact, everyone in the town seemed to be oddly kind to you, though your only guess is that they pity you for getting lost. Quite embarrassing.

It's only two weeks after being found that you manage to get some free time and sneak back into the forest.

You don't wander far, he finds you first. He stomps his feet at you and you smile, feeling that same fearless confidence that got you lost the first time as you walk over, petting his soft fur. "Thank you. You're very kind."

Mr. Terrifying but Nice Wolf huffs but leans into your hands. He pulls away a minute later and disappears into the trees. You wait a moment and a pink-haired man, tall and menacing, steps out of the trees your wolf friend dissapeared into.

"Nice to meet you," You stick your hand out, "I'm Y/N."

Mr. Terrifying but Nice Werewolf huffs, familiar and harmless, and shakes your hand. "Technoblade."

{《☆》}

[WHOOOO DAY TWO OF MONSTER FUCKERS WEEK (ignore that its a few hours late)]

[Anyways, go check out the Prompt List to see who's next. Take care of yourself, charge your phone and drink some water! PEOPLE CARE ABOUT YOUUUU!]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Taglist: @creatorofstars

#x reader #x male reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt x male reader #dsmp x male reader #x nonbinary reader #technoblade x gender neutral reader #technoblade x male reader #technoblade x reader #technoblade x y/n #technoblade x you #technoblade x gn reader #technoblade #k1ng's monster fucker week

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diejager · 2 years

Note

Yan! Childe with an s/o who does that one Tiktok trend??? The one that has the sound "its getting hot in here something

Since I finished all my requests, its currently open for sfw and nsfw requests of any kind for the fandoms I do.

Tik Tok influencer Childe

Yandere Childe

Tw: yandere behaviors, mention of killing, stalking.

Note: not proofread.

Wc: 1k

You first met on Tik Tok, both being popular enough that you two would instantly recognize outside of the platform. You had exchanged words on each other's chats and eventually followed one another on Instagram after searching up your profile names. It was truly spectacular how you two connected and immediately jumped to planning on meeting in real life.

If you lived in separate cities, then one of you would have to fly over - Childe would since he said that his pockets were packed to the brim with more and that a few flights wouldn't hurt. He would spend the day at your flat instead of renting a hotel room, it was the least you could do for a friend who proposed to save you the money for a flight ticket. Fortunately, you lived in the same city, different district, but you both lived within the city of Teyvat. He lived in the Snezhnaya district, the cold and grizzly atmosphere usually warded off people unless they were regular food lovers and alcohol addicts of the freezing district's cuisine. You spent a day there, during a blog with a friend of yours. It was still freezing with the wool jacket, scarf, bonnet, boots and mittens. It still fathomed you how the others walked with half fewer covers as you - Snezhnayan citizens were something else.

You, however, lived in the quiet center of the city - Celestia - it connected every district to itself and worked as the foundation of the legislative and bustling capital of Teyvat.

You two met often and made Tik Toks together as often as you got together. It boomed and skyrocketed your following. It was a shared idea to make the most of it since you two got along so well, unnaturally so. You found his boyish smirk endearing and the wild tussle of his ginger locks to die for. Whenever you asked him what made him like you so much, he cocked his head and smirked quietly.

"That's a secret for me to know, and you to find out, " he shrugged off the question casually.

Childe rarely hinted at anything specific, but he played his cards well enough for you to finally get together, not as friends or companions, but as a couple. It was a fast-paced relationship from the get-go, erratic and daring since you met and started as friends. The announcement even surprised a few followers and filled some who had shipped you two with bliss after their OTP finally came to realization. The shares, the comments, the likes and the rumours spread your coupling like wildfire, two of the most popular Tik Tok influencers started dating.

The occasional post together became something of a regular commodity for your fans, you made videos together and together only as one of the power couples of the platform. You went out on dates almost every day, Childe had his hands all over you, and he proved that he had no qualms with PDA. It was quite the opposite, he loved publically displaying his adoration and addiction to being with you. Hands tugging yours, arms wrapped around your waist, head propped on your shoulder, face buried into your sensitive neck. Anything and everything went with him, as long as he could touch you.

His possessiveness and attention-seeking habit grew the more time you spent together - not that you minded.

It was somewhat.... more endearing than his cocky smirk.

In the spur of the moment, you two decided to move into a bigger house, a condo on the limit between Snezhnaya and Celestia. Both of you were so entangled in each other's embrace.

You did more daring things together, more exposing things that got the attention of other people on you, lustful ones from both men and women. Childe abhorred it, he regularly stared at the cat calling you had in the comments with contempt and was close to finding out who it was and finishing them.

It repulsed him that they would seek what was his.

On the subject of daring moves, a trend had popped up and clashed with the older ones, being currently danced to It's getting hot in here so take off all your clothes. A song by someone Childe hadn't taken the time or will to remember.

He watched from the corner of the room as you danced. His eyes followed your hands as you unzipped your jacket, dancing as you slipped it off. It sent chills down his spine, your hips and hands moved sensually - in his eyes, at least. For the people that would view this, his heart seethed with anger and possessiveness. He didn't want them to look at you how he did.... but, even throughout his cloud of longing, he couldn't stop you from doing what you liked, it would break his heart to see you frown. He would support you in whatever you did or put your mind to. He loved you too much to let your break and cry.

So, his only solution would be to stalk the comments until he found which is harmful to you - in his mind - and send people searching for them. There's no way he'd let people act this atrocious towards you when you were taken and happy with him. Dead or alive, he wanted to point to be passed and deeply rooted in their minds : keep your hands off what's mine.

"Babe, let's go, alright?" Approached you after posting that video, holding you from the back as he pressed fleeting kisses on the side of your neck. " You wouldn't want to miss our reservation, right?"

You chuckled, turning your face to place a small kiss on his soft lips, hands grabbing his larger ones that lay on your hips.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time we got to one late. We're usually late because someone keeps on being childish. Hmm, Ajax?"

"Ah, then you wouldn't mind adding another one to the count, would ya?"

#childe x reader #yandere x reader #x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere x y/n #genshin impact #yandere #childe #ajax x reader #genshin childe #yandere childe #genshin modern au #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin imagines

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covenofthearticulate · 11 months

Note

Pairing: Armand/Louis/Lestat

Opener: "I have missed you so much." 🥹

Send a pairing and a starting line! (listen you already know I simply HAD to write something based off of this response I had on my Louis blog!! this has lived rent free in my head for MONTHS so thank you for supplying the perfect jumping off point for me)

"I have missed you so much."

The confession comes between gritted teeth. There's a heaviness to his voice, and they both catch it immediately. There is no Mind Gift needed to communicate the level of concern etched across the furrow of Lestat's brow, the frown tugging at Armand's cherub lips.

It's a jarring sight to come home to: Louis in his chair, fussing with the threadbare sleeves of his sweater, the delicate features of his face twisted with ruinous anguish as crimson tears slowly collect in the corners of his downcast eyes.

Impossible, that this was the same creature Lestat had left only a few nights ago. He remembers their conversation so clearly:

“I think you should go,” Louis had encouraged him, upon reading the invitation from Armand. It was a simple request: come to Paris, help to renovate the villa while the weather was still warm. The invitation was open to Louis, too, of course, but Louis knew better than to intervene.

“I knew you’d say that,” Lestat had scoffed.

“I think it would be good for you both.”

“You’re only saying that to get me out of the house. I’ll come home to find all the furniture out in the street, replaced with something boring and practical.”

“It is a ghastly armchair, Lestat.”

“It’s a statement piece.”

“We don’t need to make statements.”

“I have nothing to say to him.”

“That’s not true, Lestat.”

“Of course it’s true! How many nights have we spent together gnashing at old wounds? How many times can we have the same argument? He probably only wants me there to insult me.”

“Paris is different. You don’t have to speak to him. Just be in each other’s company. Explore the city as humans do. Hunt. Be the companions you never could be before.”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop being wise.”

“I’m giving you my honest advice, Lestat.”

“Come with me, then. Let the three of us walk down the Champs Elysses.”

“No,” Louis had said. “It needs to be the two of you.”

It was Louis who told him to go, Louis who sensed the importance tending to the old wounds between the two of them.

But it was also Louis who had sent that text, merely days after Lestat’s departure.

He hadn’t meant to do it, in all honesty. He knew damn well as soon as he hit the send button that he would ruin their time together. But, see, Lestat had made the mistake of sending Louis a picture. It wasn’t the sort of picture Louis expected to receive while Lestat was away (and thank God for that, honestly); it was simply a selfie of he and Armand walking down the street. Lestat’s arm was wrapped around Armand’s shoulder, and Armand’s expression was ripe with annoyance, frustration, and irrefutable love.

Evidence that we have not killed each other yet. Please, tell me you are proud of me. I love to hear you say it. xoxo

It was nothing Louis had not seen before. It was exactly what he had hoped for, in fact. He had every intention of replying with a simple “Good.” or perhaps even a thumbs up at this best-case scenario.

And yet.

The longer he stared at it, the longer he felt some strange agony in the pit of his stomach, like a red hot poker melting through him. The feeling is alien, but not unrecognizeable. He knows it for what it is, and it’s humiliating and irrational and completely, totally foolish, but for perhaps the first time in centuries…Louis de Pointe du Lac is jealous.

I miss you.

I miss you both.

I cannot stand the thought of the two of you finding happiness without me.

I know how selfish that is. I know I am being irrational and hypocritical. But surely, I will die without your love.

I need the two of you here with me, now.

And that was that. Lestat and Armand were on a plane home within the hour.

If the air wasn't sucked out of his lungs at the sight of him, Lestat might have made a joke, might have checked the sky for flying pigs because if Louis de Pointe du Lac is weeping, then surely the end of the world is soon to follow. He opens his mouth to try and say as much, but Louis beats him to it:

“You must think me so foolish.”

The thing about Louis is that he so often carries an air of melancholy with such grace that everyone seems to forget the hidden depths of anguish that rear their ugly heads when he is left alone with his own thoughts for too long. His approach to the masterful art of repression had been wholisticly different than that of Armand or Lestat; rather than numb himself entirely or run from the depths of his emotions, Louis had always drowned himself in sorrow because, perhaps long ago, he thought he might acclimate to it.

Instead, it only seems to twist him up until he’s worse off than before. It had chewed him up and spat him out, this time.

“Louis,” is all Lestat can think to say as they drop their bags, shed their coats and head straight for their lover in his trusty old armchair.

They kneel, one on each side; Lestat on the left and Armand on the right. Leaning closer, Lestat lifts his hand to wipe the tears from Louis’ eyes, but is shunned away.

“He’s embarrassed,” Armand translates, as he so often does. Beneath the curtain of black hair, he catches Louis’ gaze and knows he’s struck the truth.

“Embarrassed! Why—”

“Because he wants our love, and there is some part of his mind that feels humiliated in admitting that.”

The sudden rush of blood in Louis’ cheeks, up behind his eyes sockets, is enough evidence that Armand, as always, is right.

Lestat kisses at the sweet little blush, right against Louis’ temple as he pets one hand through his hair.

“My darling Louis,” he hums. “I’ve missed you so terribly. Have you missed him, too, Armand?”

“Yes, of course.” Armand follows right along. If Louis didn’t know any better he’d think the whole thing was rehearsed. Sometimes they think with such synchronicity it's uncanny.

“Perhaps we ought to show our dear Louis how much we missed him.”

“Yes,” Armand agrees, and he’s already moving closer, fingers already ghosting up Louis’ chest. “It’s good to be home.”

#yes i'm posting this at midnight for you to read when you wake up lmfao #the dash is dead but i'm over here vibrating over louis/armand/lestat #drabble #my writing #Louis has two hands #louis/lestat/armand

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monstersdownthepath · 1 year

Text

Monster Spotlight: Shax, the Blood Marquis

CR 28

Chaotic Evil Medium Outsider

Adventure Path: Wrath of the Righteous: Sword of Valor, pg. 84-85

Alright, alright, you all twisted my arm. Quite a few people came into my notes and my inbox expressing their... appreciation for a handsome bird-man in a leather outfit after I talked about his colossal murder mansion. While he’s not necessarily my type (I do like the outfit, mind), I understand. I really do! Unfortunately, while he may be pretty, he’s anything but a perfect partner.

Shax is Demon Lord of Envy, Lies, and Murder, and I bold that last one because Shax isn’t just any old murderer. He doesn’t go around knifing people in the street and leaving them to die, oh no; he’s an artist of agony, a maestro of massacres, a virtuoso of violence, and he’s no longer satisfied with just any old stabbing, it has to be special! Shax gives his victims a five-star murder experience, torturing them physically and/or psychologically for hours before giving them some measure of hope that they may yet escape their situation. Perhaps a bind on their table or bar in their cage is loose, or perhaps he’s left a weapon just close enough to their hand that they can reach it, or some miraculous rescuer comes to their aid... but it’s all an act, a play, and the Blood Marquis sets the stage with himself as both director and audience.

They flee from one cage and fall into another, or the weapon breaks the moment it’s needed most, or the rescuer turns out to be a demon in disguise (or even Shax himself, via Shapechange) that led them to an even more horrifying situation. Shax lives for watching the hope die in his victim’s eyes before he plucks them right from the sockets and eats them, and works to cultivate the most hope possible before he destroys it utterly. If he had his way, he’d make his victims’ suffering last for days or even weeks, but luckily(?) most mortals don’t last more than a day or two under his attentions... not for lack of trying, on his part. He’s always looking to improve his techniques. And besides, even if mortals are too flimsy for his tastes, there’s plenty of blood to spill among the angels.

As the Blood Marquis, Shax is all about blood. He’s a blood FANATIC and a bleed damage enthusiast, fittingly for a torturer, so he prefers drawing things out slowly. To this end, he has a 30ft Aura of Bleeding Wounds that causes ALL piercing and slashing damage done BY anyone TO anyone--friend and foe alike--to inflict 1d6 bleed damage to whoever receives the damage. Unlike most forms of bleed, this bleed stacks with itself up to 10d6, quickly going from a nuisance to a life-threatening DoT if the flow isn’t staunched. Of course, Shax himself is immune to bleed, and he can freely designate anyone in the aura to become immune to its effects... though he typically doesn’t, because every drop of blood is another weapon he can use.

As a swift action, Shax can throw open a toolbox in the form of Command Blood, one of the most potent abilities in his kit. Any creature suffering from even a single point of bleed can be affected by it if they fail the DC 38 Fortitude save, and the effect continues so long as the bleed does. A creature under the effects of Command Blood can be blinded as their own fluids surge into their eyes, drowned as it slips into their nose and mouth, disarmed as it flows over their limbs and coats their held items to make them extra slippery... or turned into autonomous turrets under Shax’s command. Gruesome Tendrils is the final option for Command Blood, ending the bleed on the victim but causing their blood to form into stinging tendrils that automatically inflict 1d6 slashing and 1d6 bleed damage to everything within 5ft of the victim. It’s a meager amount of damage, but Shax can Summon Demons 3/day to conjure an emergency legion for himself, and command his minions to lacerate each other simply so he can create hazardous minefields for the party to move through. Remember that every bit of slashing and piercing damage causes stacking bleed, making even his meager minions dangerous as their claws and the lashing tendrils he forms from them cause mounting damage over time.

Much like the previously reviewed Nocticula, Shax has the combination of Time Stop and Summon Demons, allowing him to go from alone to surrounded by allies he can flank with in a single moment from the party’s perspective. UNLIKE Nocticula, he has far more spells he can use during Time Stop to make fighting him absolute hell: He can conjure a Blade Barrier 3/day to shape the battlefield with dangerous, slicing (and thus bloodletting) blades, and has Mage’s Sword 3/day to autonomously deal 4d6+3 to a target as the mystic blade slashes them over and over again even if they manage to stay out of his reach. He can also summon Spiritual Weapons at will, each one dealing 1d8+5 damage and striking up to four times a round; setting up either of his autonomous weapons during a battle would be a waste of his standard action, but Time Stop potentially allows him to curse the entire party with invincible knives that will be dealing constant damage over time and stacking their bleed ever-higher. He may not even need to draw his own weapons if he feels the party is far too beneath him, letting his minions and summoned blades cut them apart and commanding their blood to kill them for him.

You absolutely do not want him to draw his weapons while you’re adjacent to him. Shax is devastating if he’s allowed to Full-Attack... but significantly less harmful if his enemies manage to stay out of his reach, as dagger specialists typically are. Each of his +5 Unholy Daggers deals 1d4+15 damage, and he has the full tree of Two-Weapon Fighting feats to let him attack at maximum power with both of them if he’s allowed to make a Full-Attack, meaning he can strike upwards to eight times a round! That’’s 8d4+120 (+1d10+10 thanks to Two-Weapon Rend) damage before factoring in the stacking bleed, any potential critical hits, or his terrifying +5d6 Sneak Attack which he will be making full use of at every single available opportunity. If you get blinded by your own blood or caught between Shax and his summoned allies, you’re taking a 20th-level Disintegrate-worth of extra damage on top of being blended by his knives.

Sorry, wait, hold on, I missed something! Hah, silly me! 1d4+15? I meant 1d4+25, because the Marquis’ Frightful Weapon Prowess causes anyone vulnerable to fear effects to take +10 damage from all weapon attacks he makes, ranged or melee. His skill with his blades is so terrifying that simply seeing him work makes his attacks more painful. Immunity to fear prevents this extra damage, as does simply closing your eyes so you don’t see his blades coming, but this obviously opens you to his Sneak Attack even if you’re not being flanked or blinded, so it’s a choice about whether you want to take +10 flat damage that’s potentially multiplied by a critical hit or +5d6 variable damage that isn’t affected by crits. And speaking of crits: if even a single one of the blows so much as threatens a critical hit, his Painful Cuts kicks in, staggering the victim for one round per threat, or 1d4 rounds if the crit is confirmed (which also forces a DC 43 Fortitude save to avoid being hit with Blinding Critical), shielding him from retaliatory Full-Attacks.

Thus: if you’re not somehow immune to Frightful Weapon Prowess and are vulnerable to his Sneak Attack, this brings his max Full-Attack damage to 8d4+1d10+210 + 40d6 + 8d6 bleed (this isn’t even accounting for his weapon’s Unholy ability). Spicy! Too bad moving just 10ft away causes his intimidating damage track to fall like a lead weight. His infinite supply of Thrown Surgical Tools can be tossed up to four times a round for 1d6+10 (and an extra +10 from FWP), but it’s harder for him to use his Sneak Attack from a range and 1d6+10 up to four times pales in comparison to the storm of steel he becomes in melee.

His tools prevent his damage from falling too hard if he’s getting kited around, but if he wants to be especially petty about people ducking his reach, it gives him an excuse to make use of Greater Disarm; if you’re going to be moving away from him anyway he’s going to give you a damn good reason to do so by sending your weapons flying... And if you think that’s giving up too much damage, remember the constant bleed and his attacking Spiritual Weapon and Mage Swords. Depending on how badly he wishes to savor a particular encounter, he may forego using his tools altogether, preferring to disarm his foes and allow his summons to pick them to pieces!

... Ah, yes, his summons, I almost forgot. He can not only summon demons, but if he’s in his realm, Charnelhome, he can use Miracle to bring allies from across the cosmos to his aid if he needs flankers, and he’s encouraged to do so for one specifically gruesome reason: Any party capable of fighting him will likely not be too stressed about whatever he calls, but they serve as... well, a quick snack. Command Blood has a final function that encourages him to use it on his allies as well as enemies, especially allies he considers expendable: If a creature dies while under its effects, their blood slithers towards him unerringly at a rate of 60ft/round, and if it reaches him without being destroyed (even a single point of Fire damage does it) or transmuted into another substance, he automatically absorbs it and gets a Heal spell for his trouble, regenerating 150 HP and shedding a multitude of status ailments.

This ability to Absorb Blood functions even if he’s unable to take any actions himself, the blood slithering of its own accord towards him... and it works on anything he’s used Command Blood on, regardless of size or species. Fun fact: he has a pathetic 1d6+5 bite attack that nonetheless deals slashing damage. Second fun fact: There’s usually innocent civilians in his murder manor he can summon to his side at any time. Call an innocent in, nip them with his beak, command their blood, and the moment they die, he gets mid-battle healing at the cost of a moment of his time. Minions called in by his Miracle (NOT his summon, as summoned creatures and all portions of them disappear if they die) or ones which were simply present when the battle began are also vulnerable to being made into juiceboxes, but he can also grant them a bonus: rather than the lashing tendrils, he can have them get coated in their own blood instead. Since demons tend to use natural weapons instead of manufactured ones, they can reap the benefits of the +10 to checks to avoid being grappled or bound with no downsides! Except, of course, their boss waiting for them to die so he can drink them. He can even knife them himself in the middle of his Full-Attack if he needs it in an emergency! Victims don’t have to die from the bleed, they just have to die while affected by Command Blood, an ability with no per-day or target number restriction and no set duration aside from ‘this ends when the bleed does.’

A battle with Shax can be downright frustrating if you haven’t brought some Fire damage with you to eliminate his blood blobs, but at least it’s pretty. Y’know, if you’re into blood being everywhere. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, and he understands, though I imagine that for someone so obsessive about his craft it can be just as frustrating for him when a party member’s death doesn’t go as planned (healing magic is RUINING his vision!), or it goes too well and the poor sod who got burst down for 400 damage right when his Time Stop ended didn’t get to enjoy the effort he put into making sure their arterial spray landed in a perfect arc across their teammates’ eyes.

Ah well, he’ll get it right next time.

You can read more about him here.

#Monster Spotlight #CR 26 and up #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons #lots of blood and gore talked abt in this one dont read it if youre squeamish

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

Text

War Series — Leaving Home

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Alternate Ending

Pairing || 1940s!Bucky x Wife!Nurse!Reader

Summary || Your worst fear has come true—your husband has been enlisted into the US Army. He’s going overseas to an unknown country raging with war and destruction to fight for peace and freedom. You get to spend one last magical evening with him before his departure—savouring every moment in case it’s the last one you’ll ever have…

Word Count || 2651

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut & Angst — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, mention of war/injury/death, set in 1943, Bucky and Reader are both 26, pet names (doll, darling), heavy petting (kissing, touching), unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || I’ve decided to rewrite and repost the first series and one of the first writings I wrote for Bucky.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

1940s!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

Tick tock

The clock on the living room wall was the only thing that chimed through your home—your eyes fixated on the hand ticking away as you counted down every second and minute. It read 2/57; Bucky should have been back way before that.

You’d been anxious all day while he was away to try and get enlisted for the army so he could travel overseas to an unknown country raging with war and destruction. You knew that this was something he’d wholeheartedly wanted to do, as he felt it was his duty and obligation as a man to fight for peace and freedom in the world. You loved that about him; you were so proud of that, but at the same time, you were selfish as well in that you didn’t want him to leave in fear you would never get to see him again, never hold your husband in your arms ever again—your heart stained forever by the gruesome war that had already claimed so many lives and forever changed men that had seen its brutality.

Working as a nurse in the hospital, you had first-hand experience of the brutal physical and mental injuries some of the soldiers who’d returned had. They were safely at home, yes, but they would never be the same ever again.

You didn’t want that for Bucky. You didn’t want that for anyone.

You held a small hope and wished that he wouldn't be accepted, that your lives wouldn't be changed by him going overseas to fight. That you would continue your lives in your country and home and plan for the future together—for a family and a forever love until the day you die old and grey in each other’s arms.

Please. Please, whatever higher power exists out there, don't pick him. Don’t take him away from me.

You closed your eyes tight, trying to stop the tears from spilling, while your lips quivered. You were so frightened, but you tried hard to block those thoughts from your mind until you knew anything certain.

Gong

You inhaled a gasp while your eyes shot open when the clock rang loudly throughout the house, scaring you slightly, signalling that it had hit 3 O’Clock. It pulled you back into the here and now—away from the thoughts of a gloomy distant future that may not even happen.

You looked down at the book in your lap, The Hobbit. The fantasy world within hadn’t been able to calm your nerves, so you mark your page and lay the book to the side.

There were a few more tense and excruciating minutes of waiting for his return when finally, there was a sign of him.

The front door to your house opened, followed by an announcement of his arrival.

“Hi, doll, I’m home,” he yelled cheerfully,

A giant smile came to your face that he was finally back. You got up so you could greet him and smoothed out your long white skirt.

“In the living room!”

His footsteps approached, sounding much heavier than when he left this morning, making your brows furrow. It sounded like heavy boots instead of his regular light ones. Something was wrong.

“Sorry I’m late, darling,” his voice got louder as he got closer, “I had some arrangements I had to make.”

“It’s fine. How did the-”

You didn’t need to finish the question. Your worst fear was already answered as he came into the room, clad in his brand new uniform.

Why? Why him? Why did he have to be taken away from me?

The smile on your face dropped, as did your stomach, making you feel ill and heartbroken. There was a slight spasm in your legs as you felt them weaken, but you stood your ground, not wanting to show him how negatively this was affecting you—wanting to be brave for him.

He came to you, a boyish smile on his beautiful and pure face, resting his hand gently on your lower back as he laid a sweet kiss on your cheek and then another.

“Y-you got your orders?”

“Yep. The 107th, Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out to England first thing in the morning.”

“H-huh?”

Now, your legs gave away, making you sit down on the sofa again as you clutched your heart which felt like it had exploded in the most gruesome way possible in the news of hearing him leaving already tomorrow. It felt like someone had ripped it out of you and then stomped and spit on it.

Why did he have to leave so soon? You thought you would have a little more time together before he left for weeks or months on end.

“Woah,” he sat beside you when he noticed you became ill, the life drained from your face. His soft hands took yours, thumbs soothing the back of them. “Are you ok, doll?”

“Y-yeah, I-I just… why so soon? I-I thought we would have a few days together?”

“I know, darling,” he cradled your face, and you leaned into his palm, closing your eyes at his tender touch. God, you were going to miss this, miss him. “I’m so sorry it's on such short notice. I wish we had some more time, but they said it was urgent. They really need more soldiers. They were going to send me immediately, but I managed to persuade them for tomorrow instead. I needed one last night with my girl. I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

“I-it’s ok,” you kissed his palm, “I-I understand.”

“I’ve made some arrangements for us tonight out in the city, just you and me. That’s why I was so late. So what do you say, doll? You want to spend one last magical night with your husband?”

His nose nudged yours, making a bright smile form on your face. “There’s that smile I love.” The promise of a beautiful night with your love brightened your mood. “Yes! Yes, I would love that, honey. Please, lead the way, Sarge….”

Later in the evening

Although you were devastated that Bucky was leaving tomorrow, there was nothing you could do about it. No words or pleas for him to stay—it was too late, it was already decided. So there was nothing else to do now than enjoy your last evening together, savouring each and every moment with him in case it's the last one you’ll ever have.

“Ok, keep your eyes closed. Don’t open them until I say.”

He was leading you up several flights of stairs—almost endless, it felt like. Although he held your hand to guide you, you stumbled quite a few times.

“Bucky, can’t I just have my eyes open for the stairs part?”

“No! No! Keep them closed! It’s part of the experience. Don’t worry, doll; I got you. I won’t let you fall.”

You trusted him. You always did.

He was leading you pretty high up the building, and you felt your whole body spent up in excitement at where he was taking you—barely able to contain it.

“Where are you taking me, Bucky?”

“You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

A heavy door was opened, and you were led through it. The evening breeze hit your skin, making chills erupt, and you could hear the faint noises of the bustling city below—all indicating that you were pretty high up on a rooftop.

“Ok,” he came to stand behind you, holding your shoulders while his lips brushed your ear, “open them.”

The sight you were met with was magical. He’d set up such a fairytale date for the two of you. The rooftop was decorated entirely with twinkling lights. To the side, tucked in a hidden and slight private corner, there were pillows and blankets where you could relax. A basket of some sorts, most likely containing snacks or food, and a bottle of wine lay next to it. And just now, you could hear soft music playing through a radio.

“Oh, Bucky, this is so beautiful,” you gasped excitedly. “Honey, you didn’t have to do all of this for me.” But of course, being Bucky, he always went above and beyond when it came to you. It was always magical and memorable with him.

“Of course I did. I want everything to be perfect for my beautiful wife.” He kissed your neck, which made you shudder.

“Now come,” he offered you his hand, “dance with your husband one last time.” Dancing with him? There was nothing better, so you gladly took his hand and let him lead the way.

He pulled you flush against him—holding your waist while his other held your hand. Your own place on his shoulder. The calm sway of your bodies, while you gazed into each other’s eyes, was magical—getting lost in one another, taking each other in, as it felt like it was only you and him in the universe. The worries and fear about tomorrow and the future forgotten about in this moment.

“I love you, doll.”

He whispered sweet nothings to you, caressing his soft lips with yours. His words that were meant for you only had chills tingle your spine, and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Out of the blue, he spun you around, making you giggle and your skirt twirl around you. Your laugh filled his heart with all the warmth and security he would ever need. This was the image of you he would remember while abroad—your eternal beauty.

He suddenly dipped you, making you gasp, but he caught you—he would never let you fall. His face inches from yours—so close, teasing, wanting you to beg, knowing how much you were yearning for him, for a kiss.

“Oh, will you just kiss me, Mr Barnes,” you giggled.

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His lips crashed into yours—kissing you with such passion and love before he pulled away.

“I would be kissing you till the end of times if I had the chance, Mrs Barnes.”

He gave you one more heartwarming kiss before he straightened you up again, dancing and laughing with you for some time more before you found yourself nestled into the soft pillows.

You were lying on your sides, facing each other as you talked, kissed and fed each other mini treats and sweets—a glass of wine for each of you to the side that continuously was drunk and refilled.

Bucky kept a grasp on the back of your thigh at all times—caressing and squeezing the soft skin. The more alcohol he drank, the more touchy he became, inching his hand higher till he reached your behind. He palmed your flesh, making your breathing hitch as he growled against your lips.

“I need you so bad, darling. I need to feel you wrapped around me one last time.”

The alcohol, as well as his sensual words and energy, had you so needy and desperate for him—all of him. With your hands snaked into his hair, you tugged his head until your lips connected—moving them together in hurried sync, so desperate to feel one another.

He pushed you down on your back while he found his place on top—never disconnecting your mouths. The passion of his lips moved to the sensitive spot of your neck—kissing and licking the skin, making you moan as you got to work on unbuttoning a few buttons on your blouse so you could give him more room to explore and kiss you.

Once your collarbone and clothed breasts were revealed, he gave the area some much-needed attention with some open-mouth kisses. His hand that was once underneath your skirt palmed your covered breast. The sensation of his mouth and touch made you shudder in delight and let out a whimper of satisfaction.

“D-do you think someone is going to see us, Bucky?”

“Don’t worry. No one will see us.”

Bucky undid his pants while you pulled your panties off and hiked your skirt up. He teased your wetness, making you whimper a plea, before he lined himself with your entrance.

Once he pushed through your tightness, you moaned against each other's lips. Bucky rocked his pelvis against yours—filling you up to perfection with each deep stroke, brushing up against your sweet spot. Your sounds of pleasure were muffled by your lips moving together. He laced his fingers with yours—bringing your intertwined hands above your head as you were both close to finding your simultaneous release.

“Let go for me, doll.” He mumbled against your swollen lips.

“Oh, James,” you cried as you found your pleasure—eyes fluttering shut while you arched into him. The feel of you pulsating around him brought his own release, and he groaned into your neck as he filled you up with his warmth and love—a perfect ending to a beautiful evening.

The next morning

It was time.

What you’d been dreading for the last 24 hours—to say goodbye to your husband.

You’d promised yourself that you wouldn't cry, wanting to be brave and strong for him so he didn’t need to worry about leaving you for weeks or months. But you couldn’t help it when a few tears escaped, staining your cheeks, as you walked out with him to the front porch to say your final goodbyes. The car that came to pick him up was patiently waiting.

“Bu-Bucky.” Your voice cracked as you uttered his name in a sob, your lips quivering.

“Oh, my sweet love….”

Seeing you in that state broke his heart, and he was starting to doubt whether this was the right decision he made, but it was too late now; there was no turning back.

“... come here, doll.”

He opened his arms for you, and you slung yourself around him, tucking your face into his clothed chest, listening to his heartbeat while he kept you tight to him.

“Please, James. Promise me you will come back to me. Promise you will return safely in one piece.” Your begs were muffled against his jacket, the few tears that spilt staining it.

“Darling, look at me,” his fingers lifted your chin so you could peer into his crystal blue eyes one last time. He tried so hard to keep his voice calm and clear as he spoke, but you could hear it give away as his own eyes filled with tears. “You know I can’t promise you that. Y-you know I can’t. But I promise you I will fight. I will try and claw my way out any hole to get back to you, my love. That I can promise you, o-ok?” He wiped your tears as they were free falling now. You saw him trying to fight back his own, but they were already starting to spill.

You nodded your head. You knew there was no guarantee for his safe return, but you knew he would fight like hell to come back to you, so that was all you could hope and pray for.

His lips found yours one last time while his hands cradled your face and yours tangled in the hairs at the back of his head, holding him tight, not wanting to let go. The kiss held so many emotions—love, fear, desperation and need. This may be the last kiss, and you made sure to savour the feel of his soft lips on yours.

“I love you, James.”

“I love you too, doll.”

“Please be careful.”

“I will,” he gave you one last kiss, “I promise I will try.”

He let you go and picked up his bag before he got in the car. Once he sat in the back of it, he let the tears flow freely down his face—heartbroken, scared and alone.

You waved and put on a brave smile, but once the car was out of sight, you fell to your knees and broke down crying—sobbing uncontrollably.

Please. Whoever can hear me out there, bring him back to me safely…

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

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queers-gambit · 2 years

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Ok ok, so since we are all thinking here…I hope you don’t mind me sharing my thoughts. I need someone to talk to about this 😅🙏🏼🤭(Literally been thinking about this for the last few days..opps 🤪).

We know she is thinking about her options- If I stay my family (the Blacks) will see me as a traitor and I risk not only my life in jeopardy but also my baby (babies?) and I’m stuck supporting a king I do not view worthy to have the crown…and my dragon will be used in a war to harm those I love…If I go, I leave my love breaking my vows and my child will not know their father…and Aemond could die and I would not be there…

There are literally so many factors that play into this it’s so difficult and not easy to work with at all!! Anyway…

One scenario is her staying with Aemond. She would explain to him she is only staying with him because of the love they have for each other. Leaving/abandoning him, her love and father of her child, would be a more painful fate than death. She’d make it clear that she is NOT staying because she is loyal to his brother and his ascension to the throne over her mother, only reason she is staying is cause their love. She would try to come up with a way to “fix” this to avoid war. Possibly trying to approach her mother with the fact Vhagar is the one who killed her son…not Aemond. Therefore punish Vhagar…it was foolish to allow a boy that dragon to begin with (that would hurt Aemond’s feelings but the reader doesn’t care) and that dragon is not one that should be ridden, it is a liability to all of them. A reflection of the beasts and cruelty within nature. Also, the whole “dragon rider illusion”, remind her of what her father told her as young girl.

She does stay and her father would eventually come to take her home…maybe she hesitates in trying to explain why she wants to stay, but he pulls a dagger to her stomach (lightly pressing it to her) and he threatens her that he loves her (truly loves her as his own daughter, as of she were his blood) and doesn’t want to harm her or the babe, (as that would cause him great suffering) but he will if he must, for his wife/her mother the queen. ANGSSSSTTTTTT

yea…😫

I hope you don’t mind I wrote this all out , tried to keep this short 😅 whatcha think?

Love ya! Like seriously 😘😘😘😘

ah, fresh cup of coffee and gettin' right into the angst. i love this for me. thoughts about Distraction and Bearer of Bad News --

either are very viable options. sweet girl has to weigh the pros and cons of either side; like, is it worth leaving Aemond to take Kasta to her mother and join her efforts? would that later mean sweet girl encounters Aemond and Alys Rivers? if she stays, what if Alys still becomes a thing? hmmm, thoughts are being thunk again.

if she leaves, what does that mean for the baby? or babies? what if the anxiousness of leaving is too much for her? if she leaves, she's giving up both her husband and "family by law"; and she would more than likely be used as a pawn by her mother. where she doesn't have Aemond to defend her, protect her; to shield her from everyone else's selfishness.

think of it: Rhaenyra is beyond angry and disturbed following the death of her son, Luke. and sweet girl is feeling both betrayed and hurt, as well; and we know these emotions can lead hot-headed Targaryens into war. if she returns to her mother, bearing the news of her brother, even if it's technically Vhagar's "fault", Rhaenyra is still going to war 'cause mamabear is looking for blood now. i've tried to establish the point that Kasta is large, as well; and still growing. she's a machine of war by sheer size only; and while the Greens have Vhagar and Aemond, the Blacks would then have sweet girl (who is trained by both her fathers: Laenor and Daemon) and Kasta.

there are two sides to every coin and it's up to us to then examine potential outcomes. if the coin is to fall on either side, we must know what to do to keeping moving forward; and for sweet girl, the crushing pressure to choose is overwhelming enough.

staying with Aemond means she gets her husband and baby... or does it? or does the pressure drive a wedge between them; making her feel alone and so suffocated that she escapes in the night? Kasta has to burn a couple bitches to get away? if she stays, again, what if Aemond meets Alys, still? or does sweet girl come between her husband and his paramour, and possibly join in her husband's war efforts? what if she's there for the Battle Above the God's Eye instead of Alys Rivers? hmmm...

leaving King's Landing and Aemond, however, means she's going straight into war at her mother's side. could mean she puts her baby / babies in jeopardy, and would it then mean that if she goes into labor, her babes will never know their father? how will she cope with that after being close to her own birth father? if she leaves, what if her mother's not the same - and she feels even greater pressure to please Rhaenyra? yikes...

love reading your thoughts!! all my love is being sent your way! 🖤

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #cherry answers

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pineapple-coffee · 5 months

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Unfit To Lead: Thoughts On Growing Up, Queer History, And Feeling Unprepared

A short essay, written by Elliott (@pineapple-coffee, aka me)

(As context, I am a bisexual, genderqueer/gender questioning individual. I use they/she pronouns.)

In every community, there are elders. These elders pave the pathway for the generations that come after them—creating literature, sharing stories verbally, and educating the new generations on history and culture. Elders are essential beings in all communities, and their presence cannot be understated. Without those who came before us, history is lost, and the new generations, who will one day teach others, will have nothing to go on.

So what do you do if your elders died in the AIDS epidemic of the 80s? What do you do when queer history is often so underrepresented, so rarely accessible without proper guidance? Where do you go from there?

That's not to imply that there aren't elders. I know a man online named Ian—early 20s, not quite "old"—who taught me about queer cowboy culture, both of the Old West and of the modern day. Through video essays and documentaries, I learned about the true lives of notable figures, such as Oscar Wilde and Eleanor Roosevelt, instead of their more sanitized media portrayals. Thanks to queer artists and educators on social media, I proudly display a sticker of a green carnation on my laptop, still using it as a queer signaling device even over 120 years after Wilde's death. But most of the elders that I've looked up to online have two things in common: they're younger—typically between 21 and 40—and I know them only online. Rarely in my life have I physically met a queer person over the age of fifty. Only one person immediately comes to mind.

This came to a panicky culmination a few weeks ago when I realized, "Oh, damn. I'm nearly old enough to be considered a 'queer elder.'"

This thought freaked me out. I'm a young adult. I have so much to learn. I don't have a lot of elders to teach me. I've only ever been to one Pride festival in my life. Yet, to the youngest pre-teens out there who are just coming into their identities, I might be perceived as someone older and wiser.

Let me be abundantly clear: queer rage is the most powerful emotion that I have ever experienced. My queer elders did not "fail" me or anyone else—the government did. It was the government who let my queer siblings die slowly, whilst they did nothing but spit in the faces of the queer community and take the chance to spread their visceral hatred. Every day, I am filled with rage that generations of queer people have been ripped away due to the neglect of the government. I mourn the artists, musicians, partners, siblings, and activists who passed away. Every single AIDS victim deserves to tell their stories.

In my melancholy, I turned to the Internet. And through the Internet blogs, decades-old archives, and unsanitized history books, I found community.

I am thankful. I am grateful to those who archive gay and trans magazines, newsletters, zines, and adult magazines. I am grateful to those who survived, who share their stories about queer culture in memoirs and blog posts. I am grateful to those who keep history documented and make detailed accounts of each subculture and pivotal moment. I am thankful for those who create queer and trans sex education, relationship advice blogs, and provide information for trans people who want to physically transition. I am grateful to the AIDS Memorial for keeping memories alive. I am thankful for queer lawyers who debunk the nitty gritty details of anti-queer and anti-trans legislation so that everyone can understand the letter of the law.

I’ve learned about the culture of gay and lesbian bars. I learned about the Hanky Code, Hays Code, and Flower Codes. I learned about pre-Internet queer dating, the ways that people lived, and the subcultures that exist within queer communities. I learned about the brave trans women of color who gave us our rights through protests and riots. I learned, and I learned, and I learned. And at some point during my learning, I found myself with tears streaming down my face.

Never before had I learned the other side of history. The sides that include the radical activism via art and music, subcultures full of passionate people who yearn to share their craft, and the history that wasn’t touched by the mainstream.

I may feel unprepared to lead future generations, but the communities I have found have filled me with nothing short of euphoria. I feel proud to say that I’m queer, that I’m a fag, that I will be the elder one day. I display my Keith Haring merchandise with glee, sing Freddie Mercury’s songs at the top of my lungs, and abide by the motto that a day without lesbians really is a day without sunshine.

And in the times of uncertainty, perhaps community is the drive we all need. Whether you’re young, old, or somewhere in between, the queer community is always there to rally behind you.

Maybe being the next generation to lead others won’t be so scary after all.

#here’s something a little different for yall lol #essay #my writing #terfs don’t even think about getting near this one #queer community #queer #lgbtq #lgbtqia #elliott’s ramblings #queer writers #bisexual #transgender #genderqueer

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