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#are we in the present day or the 80s? who knows
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Listen up you idiot zoomers who think people can still make meaningful queer art past the year 2000. We all need to sit around and read USamerican comic strips from the 90s because those are pretty much the only true capture of the universal gay experience now and forever, and anything past that is unimportant schlock. And like pinkwashing I think. We have to learn queer history, thats why we need to all ignore that what Im talking about is joke comic strips from the 90s and instead revere them as the most important work created, with nothing capable of surpassing it. Anyway
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gingerswagfreckles · 7 months
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I think people need to understand that when someone says the situation in Israel/Palestine is complicated they are not necessarily saying that the discussion of who the oppressor vs oppressed is complicated. The Israeli government has been oppressing the Palestinians for a very long time, that is clear, and it is not complicated to understand that at least since the 80s they have had dramatically more financial and military power to keep control of the territory in the way they like.
However, it is reductive and dismissive to insist that there is no complexity in the potential ways to move forward to bring peace to the region. Despite what people on tumblr.edu like to believe, "Israel should never have been created" is not a practical solution to an incredibly heated geopolitical situation in the present day. Israel was created and it does exist. 10 million people live there. 74% of the population is native born and the country has existed for 75 years. Hand waving these fact away with the opinion that "they should move back to where they came from" may make you feel good about being a Radical Leftist, but it does not give anyone a road map for how exactly millions of people without dual citizenship are supposed to just up and evaporate. Nor does it acknowledge the reality that 21% of Israelis are Arabs, the very people you are claiming to want to give the land back to.
Insisting that there's nothing complicated about expecting an entire country's population to willingly dissappear with no consequences is not a productive way to think about this conflict. It ignores the many massive superpowers that have an interest in proping up different states in the region, the power dynamics involved in any land back movements, and the inevitably negative consequences of totally dissolving an established state without a plan. It is also completely and almost comically unrealistic, so much so that it makes it hard to believe that anyone who's opinion starts and ends with this idea really gives a shit about anyone who lives in the area as much as they care about their online leftist clout.
There's nothing complicated in understanding that the Israeli government is and has been maintaining an oppressive apartheid state for decades. It is, however, very complicated to come up with a realistic way to resolve some of the most intricately entangled land disputes on the planet without plunging the region into total chaos. Not everyone has to be deeply educated on every geopolitical situation, but it is very hard to take people seriously when they know nothing about the politics or history of a region and yet insist that there is nothing complicated about it at all.
There's a lot of people on this website who are getting dangerously smug about their own ignorance, and are starting to go down Qanon type anti-intellectual paths in the name of being sufficiently radical. Not knowing the details of a very convoluted land dispute isn't something to brag about online as you call for intentionally reductive solutions. You can support the Palestinian cause and be aware of the oppression they have faced while also holding off on calling people trying to do real analysis and de-escalation work bootlickers. We need to get control of the urge to fit every global issue into a simplistic YA novel narrative structure that appeals to Western revolutionary fantasies.
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smutallyouwant · 2 months
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Twice Fic World ch.2
Strawberry Picking 🍓
80% Smut, but still have a good storyline.
Mina x Surprise Member x M Reader
A sequel to Night Club Darkness
Word count: approx. 1.9k words
Summary: Mina approached you again inside the office, and she invited you over to have some more strawberries.
Ps. This contains much aggressive stuffs than it's prequel 🔥
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You woke up early today because it is Monday. You quickly prepared to go to work, and you can't wait to see Mina again. After what happened to you two, you can't take her off your mind. But there's really no communication between you and her after all of that. Just some glances and smiles, it is not an awkward smile, just a friendly smile. But you made some small talks to her in office during breaks or whenever you meet her in the office.
You arrived in the office and started to go at your block. You opened your desktop to finish the presentation due for next week.
After and hour your boss, Jihyo arrived and she told you to go with her inside her office.
" How's your presentation? " she asked in English and in her usual foreign accent.
" It is going well ma'am, actually it is faster than expected. I can finish it today and I can email it to you for your approval " you answered in Korean.
" Oh, sorry you prefer to talk in Korean. Well then " she switched into Korean.
" Make sure that your presentation will be approved by the board. We are going to Tokyo, Japan next week so be prepared "
" Yes ma'am, I assure you that we got this already in the bag " you answered.
" Quite confident, I like it. Oh well, you can now go back to your work. Thank you Y/N " she said while looking at you with a glaring smile.
You never felt awkward before while talking to your boss, but that smile and the " Thank you Y/N " that she said sent shivers to your spine. Just as you recover from the cold, you were surprised by someone pulling your wrist to the side.
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Turns out it is Mina, in her cute clothes and short brown skirt. She pulled you over with a cute smile, and your nervousness was replaced with comfort.
" Hey Y/N, are you busy right now? " she excitedly asked.
" Not really, I just have one presentation to cover later " you answered.
" Will you hang with me for a bit inside ? " she asked while pointing to the office behind her.
It is a new office that is still not functional and covered with unfinished mess for construction. It is meant for a new department for the company.
" Sure, we never got a chance to hang up since last time "
After the door closed, you sat in a sofa and she sat on top of you. You instinctively hugged her from behind.
" Ohhh " she giggled as you hugged her.
" You know I can't get you off my mind, I tried to just ignore you last few days but I can't resist " she added.
" I thought I'm the only one who felt that way" you said before puting your hands on her face and pulling her so she can turn around.
She looked into your face with a grin. You hold her neck with your left arm and your other arm explores her wonderful body as you two began making out. Both of you fought for dominance and your tounge discovered every inch of her mouth. She bit your lips and started to take off your shirt. She kisses her neck and you shoved off her blue blazer and put you hands in her bare back from under her arms while you enjoys her tounge painting into your neck and shoulders. You feel your bulge growing fast, she stoo kissing your neck.
" Which nipple is much more sensitive? " she asked.
You mumbled for second because you're confused, but knowing that your left nipple is much more sensitive than the right one you didn't answer her. Instead, you grab her head and put her lips into your left nipples. He quickly gave it a huge lick and she sucked it wonderfully. You left arm began to fondle her breast and the other cupped her ass cheeks. You felt heaven as she removed your pants and gave you a handjob while still sucking your nipple. When you're pleasuring yourself you're playing with your nipple too for additional pleasure. So what Mina is doing had remained your biggest fantasy until now. You can't hide your moans from her
*slurp ~ slurp ~
" You love this baby Y/N? " she said while looking at you seductively.
" Yes baby I love it " you answered.
" No, you're my baby "
" For me both of them are sensitive, so please give them both your attention " she said while pulling her top down and fed her perky tits to your mouth.
You sucked her tit while playing with the other and you made sure to give both your equal attention. You did your best to suck them equally. While you're sucking your shaft felt wet, and you saw Mina lining her pussy into your shaft. She removed her underwear and began to ride you.
She rides you in her pace while you are making out. It stayed like that for few minutes before she came.
" Ahhh~~ baby your cock is the best " she said while she is cumming.
" ahhh ~ " she kept moaning until she can't.
She laid on you like a doll, just like that night when she fucked your cock in a dark side of the night club.
You're not done yet, so you lift her up into the wall and rammed her.
" Ahhhh~~~ fuckkk yess babyy! " she moaned almost shouting. So you muffled her with your mouth.
She wrapped her arms into you and started biting your shoulder as she reaches climax again.
" mmmhhh, ohhhh ~~ " she can't avoid slipping some moans while still biting you.
She stopped biting you when you told her you're cumming
" I'm cumming, baby let me just put you dow..."
She wrapped her legs into your waist and she whispered to your ear.
" Come inside me baby, I love your cum inside me " she whispered before liking your earlobes.
The licks sent shivers and her words made you 10 times hornier causing your cum to burst inside her pussy.
" Ahh~~ yes baby, that's it fill me with your cum mhhh~~~ " she moaned while you're cum is still pumping inside her.
You laid into the sofa while she's still on top and you made out for a minute before she stood up and began to clean the mess with some wet wipes.
" Your cum is slipping into my legs Y/N "
she said with a seductive smile.
She gave you a peck in your chicks before going out the office and straight to the comfort room. You waited for a while before leaving.
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When you opened the door, you saw a dressed up new girl into the hallway. She's new so you greeted her.
" Hey what's up " you said while smiling.
" Hey " she continued to walk and did not even bothered to smile. She just looked at you like nothing.
" Who the heck was that? " you said inside your head.
You headed back to your block and you went back to finishing your presentation.
" Whoo! What a long day " you said while yawning.
It's already 6:21 pm and you quickly sent the presentation to boss Jihyo for her critiquing. You packed your things and went to the parking lot. As you open your car door you received a message from an anonymous number.
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:Hey Y/N it's me, Mina. Would you like to come over to my apartment for some more strawberries?
:Oh hi Mina, I'm pretty tired but a dinner would make it up. Btw how did you get my number?
:Okay Y/N I'll cook dinner for us don't worry :) and I got your number while you're deep asleep on your bed last time. Lol.
:Oh😂
:Send me your address.
:Homersan St. Block 342, apartment 301.
: I'll be on my way
:🍓🍓
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You drove back to your home first to take a cold shower. You dressed cozily with a white top and a black night pants. You drove to her apartment and knocked on the door. No one is responding, you tried texting her but she is not responding.
After few tries , you called her and you heard her phone ringing from the inside. You're starting to feel anxious and over thought what happened to her inside. You reached the door knob and it is not locked so you quickly opened the door and rushed towards the phone. It is on a desk from the front of the television. You picked it up and stopped the ringing. You saw a glimpse of light from a room. It is dark in the living room so the light from the semi-opened door of a room beamed through the floor. You took a peak only to see two cuties lying besides each other.
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Mina didn't even changed clothes, and lying besides her is a cute one too. You took a gulp and you came inside the room.
" Hey Mina, I'm here" you whispered while knocking the door.
Mina opened her eyes slowly.
" Oh hey Y/N " she answered while she sit up into the bed.
" Why are you so late? "
" Sorry I was caught in the traffic" you answered.
" Come, let's have dinner "
" Hey Chae, wake up Y/N is here already let's take our dinner " she said.
Chae sit up to the bed and looked at you
" Hey Y/N, you're so late that we got sleepy. No worries though " she said while looking into you with a smile.
Mina led you to the dining table and she reheated the pork stew that Chae cooked earlier. As Mina is preparing the table she introduced you to Chae.
" Y/N this is Chaeyoung, my girlfriend" she said.
What the freaking fuck. She have a girlfriend?????
" Hi Chaeyoung, nice to meet you " you said awkwardly while looking to Mina.
Mina almost laughed and said
" Y/N don't worry she knows. She's the one that insisted me to go to the night club that night to experience real dick " she said while looking both to you and Chaeyoung.
You're surprised as to how casual her tone is. It's like she and Chaeyoung always having conversations like this. No words came out to your mouth.
" Y/N she told me everything, just like how you like strawberries? Her scent? That's mine lol " she giggled with a smile.
" That's my perfume and maybe I taste better than Mina " she said while smiling at Mina.
" Nahhhh, I'm tasty than you are you said it yourself "
" We'll find out later " Chaeyoung answered before smiling a little.
You started eating and Chaeyoung questions casual things like what's your age, work, educational background etc.
" I'm a bisexual I have tasted dicks too but my girlfriend did not try to have dick inside her. So I insisted her to try. "
You just smiled to what Chaeyoung have said and Mina is looking at you seductively.
" She's used to toys so she's not totally virgin, but for dicks? I know she'll need it "
Chaeyoung stated.
" Turns out you're right baby " Mina answered.
" I was longing for dick too, hey Y/N let's have a threesome with my girlfriend " she declared.
The moment you heard that it's just like a blink of an eye, you just found yourself on their bed without your shirt and your pants and underwear down. You and Chaeyoung is making out while Mina sucks your dick. Chaeyoung is wearing a shorts without underwear and a loose oversized shirt that reveals the straps of her bra. Your making out so intense that you can taste the pork stew from her saliva.
" mmmh ~ mmmh ~ " mild moans came out the three of you.
Chaeyoung broke the kiss and started kissing your neck. You focused on Mina that is giving her best at sucking your dick. You gently pats her head. But Chaeyoung pushed her head to your shaft. Mina gagged and pulled out her mouth.
" Gahh! Ahhwilpsmmanw " she mumbled, a tear flowed on her left cheek.
" Go on baby, I'll teach you how to deep throat a dick " Chaeyoung said before giving a sloppy kiss to Mina.
You enjoyed the scenery of two hot chicks making out in front of you. Chaeyoung holds your dick and she held Mina's mouth so she can spit in it. She spits three times inside Mina's mouth and you felt the pleasure that Mina is showing.
" Suck his dick " Chaeyoung ordered Mina.
As soon her lip touched your tip, Chaeyoung slowly pushed Mina's head to your dick. And as your dick touched the back of her troat Mina started tearing and her eye liner is a mess and it's so hot of a scene that you placed your palm into her cheek for appreciation. Chaeyoung stayed her in that position for 3 seconds before releasing Mina, Mina then started to suck you off as soon as she catches her breath.
" Good girl, that's my baby. Suck his dick more " Chaeyoung said before pushing Mina's head again.
" Go hold her head " she ordered you to both out your hands to hold still Mina's head .
She proceeded to push Mina forcing her to take all of your dick into her throat.
" Golk, golk, golk, " her throat released sounds as Chaeyoung didn't stop.
" Yes, good girl " Chaeyoung said before letting Mina go.
Mina's face is a mess, and she almost throw up after that. Chaeyoung hugged her while patting her head.
" What a good girl you are, I love you baby" She said.
" I wuv yu " struggling to say a word, Mina answered with a smile.
Chaeyoung puts Mina off the bed and she sits her against the bed's corner.
" Hey Y/N come here " she ordered
She hold Mina's face and spits in her mouth.
" Ahh~~~ yes give me more " Mina seductively moaned.
" Hey Y/N help me, spit inside her mouth too" she said .
The idea of spitting inside Mina's mouth is so hot that you started spitting too. You opened your mouth and let's your saliva flows into Mina's tounge as she smiled seductively while looking at you.
" That's enough" Chaeyoung said.
Chaeyoung held Mina's head and looked to you while you're standing.
" Open your mouth and show your tounge baby" Chaeyoung said to Mina before giving her cheeks a peck of kiss.
" Fuck her throat" Chaeyoung ordered you.
You hold onto the bed's corner wood for support and started thrusting into Mina's throat.
" Ahhh fuck your throat is so good Mina " you moaned.
*golk
*golk
*golk
Mina smiled while her head bounces as you fuck her mouth. Chaeyoung is looking into your eye while you ram, it causes you to be much more turned on.
Chaeyoung's sight switched into your dick. She is amazed of how you're fucking Mina's mouth. She is biting her lips and gently plays her tits.
" Hey Y/N fuck my throat too " Chaeyoung said while pointing inside her mouth showing her tounge.
Without a thought, you pulled your dick and Mina's catched her breath. You pulled into Chaeyoung's hair and stuffed her mouth with your dick.
" Take this you slut" you said.
Chaeyoung smiled slightly as you ram her throat.
You're much more aggressive into fucking her mouth because you're kinda pissed that she forces Mina to do deep throat. But it's nothing to her. She even wraps her arms into your legs and followed your rythm with her jamming her head into your shaft. You can see her perky cleavage up there causing you to be much more horny. The sight of her bra straps falling off made you hornier.
*golk *golk *golk
Chaeyoung's releases slight moans while her throat gagged. Chaeyoung's a beast, you realized that as you feel your dick slipping through her esophagus slightly and it feels so fucking good that you're about to cum.
" You fucking slut, your I'll fuck your throat all day " you said
She just looked at you and smiled.
" You want to be a good girl? " you said seductively.
She nods her head while keeping eye contact.
" Then swallow my cum you bitch, slut " you said while moaning.
You came inside her and the pump of your cum goes straight down to her stomach. You hold her head a little more before letting go. She sucked you off to clean your shaft and she confidently showed her mouth that not inch of a cum remains.
You found Mina sleeping on to the bed. You gently tucked her into the bed and gave her a little kiss.
" Hey Y/N let's fuck " Chaeyoung said while her finger is on her lips. She striped all of her clothes and looked at you hungrily.
You and Chaeyoung fucked besides Mina while she's sleeping. You rammed Chaeyoung's pussy missionary style and your moans filled the air.
" Ahhh~~~ , fuck, yes Y/N "
" Fuck me more "
" Ahh~~ ahh~~ "
*Bed screeching
It's more of like Chaeyoung fucking you, as she's much more hungry for it. You fucked her in dogstyle and while she's on top of you. And on that night you came inside her twice.
You laid on their bed between Mina and Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung ended up fucking you once more, after she woke up in the middle of her sleep.
When the morning came, you found Mina out of the bed. You quickly stood up and put some clothes. You saw Mina at the dinner table and she's preparing breakfast.
" Hey Y/N thank you for coming, I hope that we can hang out like this again soon " she said.
" Yes, thank you too " you answered before pulling her for a quick makeout session.
" Sorry Mina I have to go, you know we have to go for work again" you giggled.
" Yes I packed breakfast for you though " she answered before handing the bento box over.
" Thanks again Mina, please say my regards to your girlfriend, I'll be going now " you said.
" Yes Y/N, goodbye "
You' re driving back to your home you're so tired because of what happened but you had a great sleep that you are energized today. Maybe Mina's smile is all that there is that energizes you. You wondered what was inside the bento box. You opened it while the light are red and a pancake toped with butter and maple syrup catched your eyes. Inside the other one is some strawberries sprinkled with powdered sugar.
--------------------THE END-----------------
Thank you for the support on my first ever smut everyone ( ꈍᴗꈍ).
Here's the sequel to that story. I hope you like it.
I'm expecting this story to have another sequel so please stay tuned.
Prequel story:
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cassiopeialunax · 1 month
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Faster n Harder- Matt Sturniolo
I can't fucking stand him. the constant eye fucking me through the window is driving me insane, how does he get to do this to me? he doesn't even know me! it's infuriating!
*FLASHBACK*
"Y/N! WE HAVE NEW NEIGHBOURS!" my roommate, Sabrina, yells to me. "and that's my business, how?" i retort, in all honesty I couldn't give two shits about the new neighbours, for all i care, they can suck my dick, "girl, they're triplets! and ones gay, he can join girls night!" Sabrina squeals, why's she so happy about this? "no thanks, I'm antisocial" i state before throwing myself onto my bed "now disappear, I'm tryna watch my beautiful self in Cobra Kai" i say as I wave her off  "Y/N, girl, you might wanna close those curtains of yours, Matt, the middle triplet, he's gonna be in the room opposite your window, and we ALL know how you walk around your room in literally just a bra and mini shorts" she giggles at me before skipping out of my room. "BECAUSE IT'S HOT OUT!" i yell before reluctantly getting off of my bed, accidentally making eye contact with the boy next door, he types on his phone before holding it up to the window 'Cute bra, the bow really adds detail' I read from the screen "WEIRDO!" i yell before closing the curtains
*PRESENT DAY*
"Y/N, IM INVITING PEOPLE OVER!" Sabrina yells, it's muffled for me, I'm listening to straight bangers, 6arelyhuman please wife me up.
"So I party like a rockstar, look like a pornstar!" i sing along to the song , my hands running up and down my body as i dance around my bedroom, 80s rock bands (such as, Mötley Crüe, Guns n Roses, Metallica etc etc) tapestrys and posters littered across the walls, before settling down at my vanity and reapplying a couple layers of black lipstick, "Cause I go faster and harder, faster and harder" the lyrics echo through my room, I toss the lipstick back into my makeup bag before walking over to my closet "black, black, black, white, black, black, pink? when did that get there?" i mumble to myself as I flick through articles of clothing "aha! finally" i squeal as I grab a 'Sex Pistols: The Filth and The Fury' tank top, pairing it with some denim mini shorts and neutral grey Air Jordan 1's
"p-p-p-p-party like a rockstar, look like a pornstar, everyday i go hard riding in my sports car" i sing along to the song as I pull the outfit on.
{MATTS POV}
the neighbour, Sabrina I think her name is, just invited me and my brother's over, i already know her roommates here because I can hear her fucking music, she has this thing where it's never loud enough, normally I wouldn't care, but it's always sexual songs, yesterday it was 'Yummy- Ayesha Erotica' and 'Or Nah- The Weeknd' and now? 'Faster n Harder' I don't even know who it's by, but it's driving me insane, she's always dancing along to it too, how do I know? because her curtains are always open, no matter what, it's like she wants me to stare...
"Matt, kid, you good?" my brother, nick, asks me, snapping me out of my thoughts, "yeah, uh, where's the bathroom at? I've gotta fuckin piss" i ask Sabrina, she points upstairs and tells me it's the first door on the right, as I walk up the stairs the music gets louder, should I go in? no that's fucking weird Matt don't be a freak.....
"party like a rockstar, look like a pornstar!" her voice echoes
...fuck it
{Y/N POV}
the vibe is fucking ruined the second my door opens, Matt? what the fucks he doing here "ew perv! get out of my room, what are you doing here! actually don't answer that I don't give a fuck! get out!" i say as I shove him out, only resulting in him pinning me against the wall, my hands above my head as he holds them there, 'whys this hot at fuck?' ew gross, don't think that
"ever since I moved next door you have been constantly teasing me, and now? now I'm gonna do something about it" he says as he stares into my eyes, his pupils blown, the look of lust covering his face "oh yeah? what're you gonna do? huh?" i taunt "well first, I'm gonna rip those pretty little shorts off of you, then I'm gonna tear that shirt off, and then I'm gonna bend you over and fuck that perfect little pussy of yours" he says, and holy fuck I am drenched.
his hands reach the button of my shorts, frantically undoing the zipper and unbuttoning them before shoving them down my legs "arms up" Matt commands, his voice rough and eager, I do as he says, i want this, scratch that, need this, he pulls my shirt off and tosses it across my room before shoving me onto the bed "you were right.. you do look like a pornstar" he says as his eyes scan my body "turn around, face down ass up" I comply, rolling onto my stomach and arching my back, *slap* his hand connects with my ass, the pain mixing with pleaser causing me to whimper "shhh pretty girl, don't want anyone hearing us do we?" he says, lowly "please" i beg "please what? Y/N, what do you want? you want me to fuck you?" he coos in a condescending manner "shut up, I'm not fucking saying it" i say as i roll my eyes "only time your eyes are gonna be rolling is when im fucking you, is that clear?" matt growls as he unbuckles his belt and kicks the door shut "whatever" i scoff before his belt connects with my ass "careful, or I'm gonna fuck that attitude out of you" he warns. "do it pussy, you won't" i challenge, gasping as I feel his tip rub against my soaked panties "I'm gonna fucking ruin you" he whispers into my ear before tearing my panties off of me and slamming into me, giving me no time to adjust "aye dios mio!" i cry out "shut the fuck up, we don't need everyone knowing how much of a whore you are for me" Matt mutters as he covers my mouth, his hips slapping against my ass as he plunges in and out of me. "f-fuck Matt, fucking me so good" i moan, my voice muffled by his hand "yeah? you like me fucking you like the slut you are?" he asks as he snakes his hand around my waist and down to my clit, rubbing at it with a slow pace, before increasing it by an insane amount, my cunt clenching around his cock as a warm sensation bubbles up in my lower stomach "oh my god" i whimper "not god, me" matt says as he pounds into me, hitting my G-spot perfectly "fuck! Matt I'm so close" i moan, he slaps my ass again "hold it." he demands as he takes his hand off of my mouth and wraps it around my neck "open your eyes sweetheart, want you to watch yourself in the mirror while I fuck you" he groans as he presses wet kisses to my neck, i look into the mirror, immediately making eye contact with him as he grabs my hair and yanks me up, my back pressing against his chest as he repeatedly fucks into me faster and harder "Matt im begging you, please let me cum, i need to cum, i cant hold it anymore" i plead, tears of pleasure rolling down my face "let go for me pretty girl, give me all you got" Matt groans as he somehow thrusts into me faster.
I let out an almost pornographic moan as I cum over his cock, my legs shaking and my eyes rolling back, i feel him twitch inside of me, "where do you want it?" he asks, his voice low and breathy, "inside, please, need it inside of me" I blabber, that's all Matt needs to hear as his warm seed shoots into me, ropes and ropes of hot sticky cum coating my walls as he moans into the nape of my neck, thrusting into me a couple more times before pulling out "fuck, i should've done that sooner" he chuckles lowly as he presses a soft kiss to my head "lay down, beautiful, I'll clean you up" Matt whispers as he walks into the bathroom grabbing a cloth and turning the warm water on, coating the cloth with it before making his way back to me "feelin' okay?" Matt asks as he presses soft kisses to my inner thighs before gently wiping the towel over my sensitive pussy "yeah" i whisper "c'mon, we can cuddle and watch some shitty movie" Matt says as he lays beside me, pulling my black silk sheets over us and wrapping his arm around my waist...
thank god sabrina invited them over today
the outfit I described because the link is being a cunt:
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TAGLIST !!
@nedsmarie44 @hoesformatt @muwapsturniolo @guccifrog @thenickgirl @mattslolita @ssqra @mattsivy @luverboychris
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ohbo-ohno · 2 months
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hey hey heyyy saw this and thought of youuu
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT83xLH3c/
(completely sfw don't worry) but like, Imagine for one reason or another you desperately need to get married (maybe to qualify for your medieval grandpa's will) but no one wants you for whatever reason so you promptly go down to the gallows where this murderous ex Soldier was to be executed and you are just "he'll do" not aware that he comes as a package deal with his partner who didn't get caught 👀
are you. are you joking. oh my god
thinking about a woman who's got a terrible home life. i feel like either her parents want to marry her off to some guy who's like 80 or they treat her like a workhorse and are super abusive
and to her, quite literally Anything is better than the life she's stuck in. and for a woman in this time period the only real way to escape is to get married. and since no one will marry her (she's poor and everyone knows how her family is).... well there's really only one choice
she definitely proposes to soap, not ghost. the man getting dragged to the gallows is perfectly at ease - shoulders rolled back, easy smile on his lips, you would never think he's being led to his death. there's something in his over all demeanor that makes it almost easy to jump from the crowd and shout a proposal
he's excited, almost ferally so. he grabs your wrist and holds tight, doesn't let you get even a full armlength away from him. that's when you start to think maybe this was a mistake, but it's far too late now. he's also weirdly insistent about the two of you going to a very specific room in a very specific hotel (or whatever they used to be called)
you get a bit more scared every second that goes by, but you're well aware what a man expects on his wedding night - you grew up on a farm, you know how animals mate. it's scary, of course, but you know you'll have to bear it
except when you get to the room, he doesn't try and take you. you know he wants to - there's a tent in his pants that makes your face flame - and he keeps you flush against him. he sits at the table? you're in his lap. you try to go to the bathroom? he stays so close to you that you decide it's not worth the potential humiliation.
he talks your ear off the whole time - tells you how pretty you are, goes into frankly excessive detail about what he likes about every single part of you, tells you how he wants to "stuff you full", says things like "'m not so bad, kitty, know ye must be scared but i'll take care of ye, don't worry" and "just wait til he gets here, then we can get started" and no matter how much you ask who he is he refuses to tell you
he has his mouth pressed against you throat (switching between licking, biting, and talking about how he can't wait to see what's under your skirts) when the door opens, and you realize that you've truly made a mistake
the new man who walks in has to duck beneath the door frame, he's so massive. had he been the one walking to the gallows, you never, ever would have proposed. he's got to be twice the size of you, his face covered, the rest of him filthy and covered in dirt
(((if i had the energy i'd write dialogue here, but anon i am sleepy)))
soap would be soooooooo happy to present you to ghost, is literally drooling and beaming as he grabs you by the hips and hooks his chin over your shoulder, big hands stroking across your stomach and skirts as he says isn't she so pretty?
anyways. you're getting railed that night. hope you like being on the run with two criminals who have absolutely no intention of crossing over to the light side!!
(ghost fucks you first, bc soap needs to learn to be patient with his new toy, but he lets you suck his cock while he waits for his turn. when soap fucks you next, you're laying on ghost's stomach and he wipes away your pretty tears as johnny does his best to break your back. the next day johnny laughs when you're walking with a small limp, and ghost makes him apologize with his tongue <3)
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mrghostrat · 2 months
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Hello and good morning/day/night :]
I was wondering, in BNF, we’ve gotten tiny little bits of information about the ‘Nice and Accurate Prophecies’ (not sure if that’s the correct title, sorry) book and TV series, if there was anything else you could tell us about it?
Character names, storylines, plots, any fun details you may have made up or otherwise, etc, etc.
I just think it’s sweet how interested both Aziraphale and Crowley are in the series, and if you might be as interested, if not more, in it too.
Thank you, and have a lovely Sunday. 🫶
this is it, my leash has snapped, i'm wild in the streets, thank u for asking; i'm gonna go be insufferable now
(hi @neil-gaiman if you see this, i think it's safe to read, but it does border on being fan fic. i'm writing a fic where crowley and aziraphale are an artist + writer in an online fandom, much like we are for good omens, and this is the fake story i've made for them to be fans of 💛)
The Nice and Accurate Prophecy
info dump of the fake 5 book series by Agnes Nutter (1985-1992) and its fake fandom:
The Nice and Accurate Prophecy
The Strange and Improbable Prophecy
The Vague and Perfidious Prophecy
The Tense and Harrowing Prophecy
The Faint and Ineffable Prophecy
a dramatic, layered story with a bizarre and unexpectedly lovable cast of characters, humour that hits you out of nowhere, and a lot of attitude from the narrator. a la Good Omens, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy
fantasy/historical fantasy and mildly action & romance
a la good omens, a witch and a witchfinder become friends and help each other throughout history, despite being on opposite sides. they get closer as they fight against the immoral plays from their prospective sides (the witchfinder army and a demonic cult the witch was born into) that each lose sight of their core values in a bid to hold more power over the world.
the story is set primarily in a medieval fantasy era, but suddenly jumps to the present in the later books, catching everyone off guard and giving a whole new context to enjoy the story. the challenges they face parallel the earlier story but in a modern take with modern technological twists. the modern era is the late 80s, since that's when it was written.
the witch reincarnates, similar to doctor who, due to a high class black magic ritual they performed in their arrogant youth (which they were NOT supposed to have access to). they've had long lifetimes where they die of old age, and others where they've barely managed to live a year. their reincarnations aren't entirely random; they will reincarnate according to their growth and preferences as a person (a la Magical Boy's magical outfit generations), which includes fluctuation in gender identity. their pronouns fluctuate depending on each "face" they wear, but have canonically been a "they" before. the good side of the fandom (crowley & aziraphale) default to they/them as an overall rule. they do have a name, but they like to change that too, so the fandom almost exclusively calls them witch, or witchy.
the witchfinder also has a name, but the fandom have taken to calling him witchfinder to match the fact that witchy is called by their role. it also helps that a lot of the witchfinder narration refers to him by role instead of name. he is human, 30ish in appearance, but at the end of the first book, the witch fears to lose him and curses him with immortality against his knowledge to try and keep him safe.
witch is crowley-coded, witchfinder is aziraphale-coded. my to-do list includes an illustration of the two of them played by michael and david :') but i picture them being kind of like newt and anathema for the most part.
ship names include witch/finder, witchwitch, w² or witch², and witchfound.
at the start of the first book, they meet and become friends without knowing each other is a witch & finder. the witchfinder is a bit bumbly, like newt, and the witch is cool and suave but neurotic and insecure like many human au variations of crowley (major overcompensation vibes). witch is male at the start of the first book. their friendship is secure when witch finds out he's a witchfinder, so there's less "oh my god i'm friends with the enemy, is he going to kill me in my sleep?" and more "ah fuck, Lets Drink About This"
there's battles, horseback riding, camping out in dark woods, disappearing and losing each other for months at a time, and many missed connections as they try to work together against two common enemies, whilst keeping up the facade that they're on their respective team's sides.
there's charged chemistry in the first book, but it's more plot heavy. there's hints of shippy moments in the 2nd book that fall in between the plot. there's a Moment of almost confession in the 3rd book, and a non romantic kiss towards the end (we gotta, for neil). they're pretty much married in the 4th book, securely at each other's side, but never actually talk about it until the end, and there's a more explicitly stated shippy connection in the 5th book.
agnes herself is a total recluse who drops books out of nowhere then goes back to existing somewhere in the english countryside (people presume). she's happy to supply signed copies to fundraisers and conventions, and sometimes random bookshops across the country will be vandalised with genuine autographs on the inside covers. she's notoriously pedantic about being involved with adaptions behind the scenes, but she has no social media and isn't ~around~. she once did a talk when she was presented with an honorary doctorate, and did a single book signing when the first Prophecy book came out, but beyond that she keeps to herself.
there are a small handful of quotes from her in behind-the-scenes footage talking vaguely about character intensions and clarifying world building, but she likes to leave things up to interpretation like neil does. it's in these few snippets of interaction we've seen from her that she's steadfastly supportive of intersectionality and lgbt rights, like staring dead-eyed at an interviewer when they ask her a ridiculously heteronormative question about the characters (like "have you read my books?")
adaptions include:
(most adaptions start like the book, with a male witch at the beginning that turns into a female witch when they first regenerate. the early ones usually change the pacing by switching to a female actor by the time they realise witchfinder is a witchfinder, unlike in the book where he's male for this scene, and there's way less Charged™ chemistry between the m/m witch/finder.)
Feature Film: late 90s, kind of cheesy, but good spirited fantasy (a la Indiana Jones). focuses on the first book alone, with hints to a sequel that never happened.
Abandoned TV Pilot: early 2000s, a little too dramatic but still a good time (a la the Dungeons and Dragons 2000, ASOUE 2004). good source of gifs and Moments™ but the fandom is generally Fine with it being abandoned.
Stage Performance: late 2000s-early 2010s, a stellar stage adaption of the first book with elements of the 90s movie. f/m witch/finder the whole way through. one cast used m/m actors but it was a short run and only a handful of fans were lucky enough to catch or remember it. crowley would give his left arm (or someone's, anyway) to have experienced it, so a fan sent him some flip phone camera footage of it that he keeps on a harddrive in his safe.
HBO Streaming Series: late 2010s-present, high quality, highly revered, resurged the fandom's popularity and spread the series further overseas. made in america, but doesn't try to americanise the series. extremely respectful to the books, with easter eggs to the film, and is working its way through the entire book series (a la The Witcher netflix series). f/m witch/finder, but has had one episode that included some flash backs/montages of different witch faces. probably like 15 minutes total screentime of a male witch played by a ncuti gatwa level/style of actor, which the fandom has giffed, edited, and screencapped to oblivion.
Several bonus books: Agnes has written a few extra books (a la The Unauthorized Autobiography of Lemony Snicket and The Beatrice Letters), as well as curated some anthologies from other authors (a la A Study In Sherlock). there are a total of 3 anthologies so far, in which other authors have written stories about the characters in their own tellings. basically like canonised, published fan fiction, curated and authorised by agnes herself. There's also an unfinished graphic novel that retells the book series (a la The Adventure Zone comic), but has been WIP/unheard of since the 3rd book.
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I understand the story of marat and his assassination event
But who is lepeletier?
Because I saw a drawing for him by louis David and I learned about his death which happen to be the same as Marat so yeah .. I wanna know about him.
According to the biography Michel Lepeletier de Saint-Fargeau, 1760-1793 (1913), its subject of study was born on 29 May 1760, in his family home on rue Culture-Sainte-Catherine, a building which today is the Bibliothèque Historique de la Ville de Paris. His family belonged to the distinguished part of the robe nobility. At the death of his father in 1769, Lepeletier was both Count of Saint-Fargeau, Marquis of Montjeu, Baron of Peneuze, Grand Bailiff of Gien as well as the owner of 400,000 livres de rente. For five years he worked as avocat du roi at Châtelet, before becoming councilor in Parliament in 1783, general counsel in 1784 and finally taking over the prestigious position of président à mortier at the Parlement of Paris from his father in 1785. On May 16 1789, Lepeletier was elected to represent the nobility at the Estates General. On June 25 the same year he was one of the 47 nobles to join the newly declared National Assembly, two days before the king called on the rest of the first two estates to do so as well. A month later, during the night of August 4 1789, he was in the forefront of those who proposed the suppression of feudalism, even if, for his part, this meant losing 80 000 livres de rente. Four days later he wrote a letter to the priest of Saint-Fargeau, renouncing his rights to both mills, furnaces, dovecote, exclusive hunting and fishing, insence and holy water, butchery and haulage (the last four things the Assembly hadn’t ruled on yet). When the Assembly on June 19 1790 abolished titles, orders, and other privileges of the hereditary nobility, Lepeletier made the motion that all citizens could only bear their real family name — ”The tree of aristocracy still has a branch that you forgot to cut..., I want to talk about these usurper names, this right that the nobles have arrogated to themselves exclusively to call themselves by the name of the place where they were lords. I propose that every individual must bear his last name and consequently I sign my motion: Michel Lepeletier” — and the same year he also, in the name of the Criminal Jurisprudence Committee, presented a report on the supression of the penal code and argued for the abolition of the death penalty. After the closing of the National Assembly in 1791, Lepeletier settled in Auxerre to take on the functions of president of the directory of Yonne, a position to which he had been nominated the previous year. He did however soon thereafter return to Paris, as he, following the overthrow of the monarchy, was one of few former nobles elected to the National Convention, where he was also one of even fewer former nobles to sit together with the Mountain. In December 1792 he started working on a public education plan. On January 20 1793, he voted for death without a reprieve and against an appeal to the people during the trial of Louis XVI (Opinion de L.M. Lepeletier, sur le jugement de Louis XVI, ci-devant roi des François: imprimée par ordre de la Convention nationale). After the session was over, Lepeletier went over to Palais-Égalité (former Palais-Royal) where he dined everyday. The next day, his friend and fellow deputy Nicolas Maure could report the following to the Convention:
Citizens, it is with the deepest affection and resentment of my heart that I announce to you the assassination of a representative of the people, of my dear colleague and friend Lepelletier, deputy of Yonne; committed by an infamous royalist, yesterday, at five o'clock, at the restaurateur Fevrier, in the Jardin de l'Égalité. This good citizen was accustomed to dining there (and often, after our work, we enjoyed a gentle and friendly conversation there) by a very unfortunate fate, I did not find myself there; for perhaps I could have saved his life, or shared his fate. Barely had he started his dinner when six individuals, coming out of a neighboring room, presented themselves to him. One of them, said to be Pâris, a former bodyguard, said to the others: There's that rascal Lepeletier. He answered him, with his usual gentleness: I am Lepeletier, but I am not a rascal. Paris replied: Scoundrel, did you not vote for the death of the king? Lepelletier replied: That is true, because my confidence commanded me to do so.Instantly, the assassin pulled a saber, called a lighter, from under his coat and plunged it furiously into his left side, his lower abdomen; it created a wound four inches deep and four fingers wide. The assassin escaped with the help of his accomplices. Lepeletier still had the gentleness to forgive him, to pray that no further action would be taken; his strength allowed him to make his declaration to the public officer, and to sign it. He was placed in the hands of the surgeons who took him to his brother, at Place Vendôme. I went there immediately, led by my tender friendship, and my reverence for the virtues which he practiced without ostentation: I found him on his death bed, unconscious. When he showed me his wound, he uttered only these two words: I'm cold. He died this morning, at half past one, saying that he was happy to shed his blood for the homeland; that he hoped that the sacrifice of his life would consolidate Liberty; that he died satisfied with having fulfilled his oaths.
This was the first time a Convention deputy had gotten murdered, and it naturally caused strong reactions. Already the same session when Maure had announced Lepeletier’s death, the Convention ordered the following:
There are grounds for indictment against Pâris, former king's guard, accused of the assassination of the person of Michel Lepelletier, one of the representatives of the French people, committed yesterday.
[The Convention] instructs the Provisional Executive Council to prosecute and punish the culprit and his accomplices by the most prompt measures, and to without delay hand over to its committee of decrees the copies of the minutes from the justice of the peace and the other acts containing information relating to this attack.
The Decrees and Legislation Committees will present, in tomorrow's session, the drafting of the indictment.
An address will be written to the French people, which will be sent to the 84 departments and the armies, by extraordinary couriers, to inform them of the crime against the Nation which has just been committed against the person of Michel Lepelletier, of the measures that the National Convention has taken for the punishment for this attack, to invite the citizens to peace and tranquility, and the constituted authorities to the most exact surveillance.
The entire National Convention will attend the funeral of Michel Lepelletier, assassinated for having voted for the death of the tyrant.
The honors of the French Pantheon are awarded to Michel Lepelletier, and his body will be placed there.
The president is responsible for writing, on behalf of the National Convention, to the department of Yonne, and to the family of Lepelletier.
The next day, January 22, further instructions were given regarding Lepeletier’s funeral: 
On Thursday January 24, Year 2 of the Republic, at eight o'clock in the morning, will be celebrated, at the expense of the Nation, the funeral of Michel Lepeletier, deputy of the department of Yonne to the National Convention.
The National Convention will attend the funeral of Michel Lepeletier in its entirety. The executive council, the administrative and judicial bodies will attend it as well.
The executive council and the department of Paris will consult with the Committee of Public Instruction regarding the details of the funeral ceremony.
The last words spoken by Michel Lepeletier will be engraved on his tomb, they are as follows: “I am happy to shed my blood for the homeland; I hope that it will serve to consolidate Liberty and Equality; and to make their enemies recognized.”
In number 27 (January 27 1793) of Gazette Nationale ou Le Moniteur Universel, the following long description was given over Lepeletier’s funeral, held three days earlier:
The funeral of Lepeletier Saint-Fargeau was celebrated on Thursday 24 with all the splendor that the severity of the weather and the season allowed, but with such a crowd that it could have been the most beautiful day of the year. At ten o'clock in the morning his deathbed was placed on the pedestal where the equestrian statue of Louis XVI previously stood, on Place Vendôme, today Place des Piques. One went up to the pedestal by two staircases, on the banisters of which were antique candelabras. The body was lying on the bed with the bloody sheets and the sword with which he had been struck. He was naked to the waist, and his large and deep wound could be seen exposed. These were the mournful and most endearing part of this great spectacle. All that was missing was the author of the crime, chained, and beginning his torture by witnessing the sight of the triumph of Saint-Fargeau. As soon as the National Convention and all the bodies that were to form courage were assembled in the square, mournful music was played. It was, like almost all those which has embellished our revolutionary festivals, the composition of citizen Gossec. The Convention was ranged around the pedestal. The citizen in charge of the ceremonies presented the President of the Convention with a wreath of oak and flowers; then the president, preceded by the ushers of the Convention and the national music, went around the monument, and went up to the pedestal to place the civic crown on Lepeletier's head: during this time, a federate gave a speech; the president dismounted, the procession set out in the following order: A detachment of cavalry preceded by trumpets with fourdincs. Sappers. Cannoneers without cannons. Detachment of veiled drummers. Declaration of the rights of man carried by citizens. Volunteers of the six legions, and 24 flags. Drum detachment. A banner on which was written the decree of the Convention which ordered the transport of Lepeletier's body to the Pantheon. Students of the homeland. Police commissioners. The conciliation office. Justices of the peace. Section presidents and commissioners. The commercial court. The provisional criminal court. The department’s fix courts. The electorate. The provisional criminal court. The department's criminal courts fix. The municipality of Paris. The districts of Saint-Denis and the village of L’Égalité. The Department. Drum detachment. The seal of the 84, worn by Federates. The provisional executive council. National Convention Guard Detachment. The court of cassation. Figure of Liberty carried by citizens. The bloody clothes worn at the end of a national pike, deputies marching in two columns. In the middle of the deputies was a banner where Lepeletier's last words were written: "I am happy to shed my blood for my homeland, I hope that it will serve to consolidate Liberty and Equality, and to make their enemies known.” 
The body carried by citizens, as it was exhibited on the Place des Piques. Around the body, gunners, sabers in hand, accompanied by an equal number of Veterans. Music from the National Guard, who performed funeral tunes during the march. Family of the dead. Group of mothers with children. Detachment of the Convention Guard. Veiled drums. Volunteers of the six legions and 24 flags. Veiled drums. Volunteers of the six legions and 24 flags. Veiled drums. Volunteers of the six legions and 24 flags. Veiled drums. Armed federations. Popular societies. Cavalry and trumpets with fourdines. On each side, citizens, armed with pikes, formed a barrier and supported the columns. These citizens held their pikes horizontally, at hip height, from hand to hand. The procession left in this order from the Place des Piques, and passed through the streets St-Honoré, du Roule, the Pont-Neuf, the streets Thionville (former Dauphine), Fossés Saint-Germain, Liberté (former Fossés M. le Prince), Place Saint-Michel and Rue d'Enfer, Saint-Thomas, Saint-Jacques and Place du Panthéon. It stopped front of the meeting room of the Friends of Liberty and Equality; opposite the Oratory, on the Pont-Neuf, opposite the Samaritaine; in front of the meeting room of the Friends of the Rights of Man; at the intersection of Rue de la Liberté; Place Saint-Michel and the Pantheon. Arriving at the Pantheon, the body was placed on the platform prepared for it. The National Convention lined up around it; the band, placed in the rostrum, performed a superb religious choir; Lepeletier's brother then gave a speech, in which he announced that his brother had left a work, almost completed, on national education, which will soon be made public; he ended with these words: I vote, like my brother, for the death of tyrants. The representatives of the people, brought closer to the body, promised each other union, and swore on the salvation of the homeland. A big chorus to Liberty ended the ceremony.
According to Michel Lepeletier de Saint-Fargeau, 1760-1793 (1913), civic festivals in honor of Lepeletier were celebrated in all sections of Paris, as well as the towns of Arras, Toulouse, Chaumont, Valenciennes, Dijon, Abbeville and Huningue. Lepeletier’s body did however only get to rest in the Panthéon for a little more than a year, as on February 15 1795, the Convention ordered it exhumed, at the same time as that of Marat. It was instead buried in the park surrounding Château de Ménilmontant, the properly of which the ancestor Lepeletier de Souzy had purchased in the 17th century and that still remained in the family.
One day after the funeral, January 25, Lepeletier’s only child, the ten and a half year old Susanne, who had already lost her mother ten years before the murder of her father, was brought before the Convention by her step-mother and two paternal uncles Amédée and Félix. It was Félix who had held a speech during the funeral and he would continue to work for his seven years older brother’s memory afterwards too, offering a bust of him to the Convention on February 21 1793, (on the proposal of David, it was placed next to the one of Brutus), reading his posthumous work on public education to the Jacobins on July 19 1793, and even writing a whole biography over his life in 1794 (Vie de Michel Lepeletier, représentant du peuple français, assassiné à Paris le 20 janvier 1793 : faite et présentée a la Société des Jacobins).
The president announces that the widow of Michel Lepelletier, his two brothers and his daughter, request to be admitted to the bar, to testify to the Convention their recognition of the honors that they have decreed in memory of their relative. It is decreed that they will be admitted immediately.
One of Michel Lepeletier’s brothers: Citizens, allow me to introduce my niece, the daughter of Michel Lepelletier; she comes to offer you and the French people her recognition of the eternity of glory to which you have dedicated her father... He takes the young citoyenne Lepelletier in his arms, and makes her look at the president of the Convention... My niece, this is now your father... Then, addressing the members of the Convention, and the citizens present at the session: People, here is your child... Lepelletier pronounces these last words in an altered voice: silence reigns throughout the room, with exception for a couple of sobs.
The President: Citizens, the martyr of Liberty has received the just tribute of tears owed to him by the National Convention, and the just honor that his cold skin has received invites us to imitate his example and to avenge his death. But the name of Lepelletier, immortal from now on, will be dear to the French Nation. The National Convention, which needs to be consoled, finds relief to its pain in expressing to his family the just regrets of its members and the recognition of the great Nation of which it is the organ. The Nation will undoubtedly ratify the adoption of Michel Lepelletier's daughter that is currently being carried out by the National Convention.
Barère: The emotion that the sight of Michel Lepeletier's only daughter has just communicated to your souls must not be infertile for the homeland. Susanne Lepelletier lost her father; she must find now find one in the French people. Its representatives must consecrate this moment of all-too-just felicity to a law that can bring happiness to several citizens and hope to several families. The errors of nature, the illusions of paternity, the stability of morals, have long demanded this beautiful institution of the Romans. What more touching time could present itself at the National Convention to pass into French legislation the principle of adoption, than that when the last crimes of expiring tyranny deprived the homeland of one of its ardent defenders and Susanne Lepelletier of a dear father! Let the National Convention therefore give today the first example of adoption by decreeing it for the only offspring of Lepelletier; let it instruct the Legislation Committee to immediately present the bill on this interesting subject. I ask that the homeland adopt through your organ Susanne Lepelletier, daughter of Michel Lepelletier, who died for his country; that it decrees that adoption will be part of French legislation, and instructs its Legislation Committee to immediately present the draft decree on adoption.
This proposal is unanimously approved.
Susanne being adopted by the state would however lead to a fierce debate when, in 1797, this ”daughter of the nation” wished to marry a foreigner. For this affair, see the article Adopted Daughter of the French People: Suzanne Lepeletier and Her Father, the National Assembly (1999)
Right after Barère’s intervention, David took to the rostrum:
David: Still filled with the pain that we felt, while attending the funeral procession with which we honored the inanimate remains of our colleagues, I ask that a marble monument be made, which transmits to posterity the figure of Lepelletier , as you clearly saw, when it was brought to the Pantheon. I ask that this work be put into competition.
Saint-André: I ask that this figure be placed on the pedestal which is in the middle of Place Vendôme... (A few murmurs arise)
Jullien: I ask that the Convention adopt in advance, in the name of the homeland, the children of the defenders of Liberty, who, for similar reasons, could be immolated in the vengeance of the royalists.
All these proposals are referred to the Legislation and Public Instruction Committees.
On Maure's proposal, the Assembly orders the printing of the speeches delivered yesterday at the Panthéon, by one of Michel Lepelletier's brothers, Barère and Vergniaux.
If it would appear David never got to make a marble monument of Lepeletier, on March 28 1793, he could nevertheless present the following painting of his to the Convention, which isn’t just a little similar to his La Mort de Marat.
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(This image is an engraving of the actual painting, which has gone missing)
After Marat on July 13 1793 (on the very same day the plan for public education Lepeletier had been working on was read to the Convention by Robespierre) became the second assassinated Convention deputy, we find several engravings etc, depicting the two ”martyrs of liberty” side by side.
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In the following months, even more people would be join the two, such as Joseph Chalier, a lyonnais politician executed on July 17 1794 and Joseph Bara, a fourteen year old republican drummer boy killed in the Vendée by the pro-Monarchist forces.
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Lepeletier’s murderer, 27 year old Philippe Nicolas Marie de Pâris, a man who the minister of justice described as  "former king's guard, height five pieds, five pouces, barbe bleue, and black hair; swarthy complexion, fine teeth, dressed in a gray cloak, green lapels and a round hat” on January 21, went into hiding right after his deed. In spite of his description being published in the papers and a considerable sum of money being promised to whoever caught him, Pâris managed to flee Paris and settled for a country house of an acquaintance near Bourget. He there ran into a cousin of one of the owners. When Pâris asked for food and a bed, he was refused and instead disappeared into the night again. In the evening of January 28 he arrived in Forges-les-Eaux and stopped at an inn, where he came under suspicion once he started cutting his bread with a dagger after which he locked himself into his room. The following morning he woke up with a start as five municipal gendarmes came bursting into his room and told him to come with them. Pâris responded that he would, but in the next second he had picked up his hidden pistol, placed it into his mouth, and pulled the trigger. Searching the dead body, the gendarmes found Pâris’ baptism record (dated November 12 1765) and dismissal from the king's guard (dated June 1 1792), on the latter of which had been written the following:
My certificate of honor. Do not trouble anyone. No one was my accomplice in the fortunate death of the scoundrel de Saint-Fargeau. Had I not run into him, I would have carried out a more beautiful action: I would have purged France of the patricide, regicide and parricide d’Orléans. The French are cowards to whom I say: Peuple dont les forfaits jettent partout l'effroi,  Avec calme et plaisir j'abandonne la vie.  Ce n'est que par la mort qu'on peut fuir l'infamie Qu'imprime sur nos fronts le sang de notre roi. Signed by Paris the older, guard of the king, assassinated by the French.
Learning about what had happened, the Convention tasked Tallien and Legrand with going to Forges-les-Eaux and making sure the dead man really was Pânis. Having come to the conclusion that this was indeed the case, the deputies briefly discussed whether the body ought to be brought back to Paris, but it was decided it would be better if it was just buried "with ignominy.” It was therefore instead taken into the nearby forest in a wheelbarrow and thrown into a six feet deep hole.
Finally, here are some other revolutionaries simping for honoring Lepeletier’s memory just because I can:
…a tragic event took place the day before the execution [of the king]. Pelletier, one of the most patriotic deputies, and who had voted for death, was assassinated. A king's guard made a wound three fingers wide with a saber: he died this morning. You must judge the effect that such a crime has had on the friends of liberty. Pelletier had an income of six hundred thousand livres; he had been président à mortier in the Parliament of Paris; he was barely thirty years old; to many talents, he added the most estimable of virtues. He died happy, he took to his grave the idea, consoling for a patriot, that his death would serve the public good. Here then is one of these beings whom the infamous cabal who, in the Convention, wanted to save Louis and bring back slavery, designated to the departments as a Maratist, a factious, a disorganizer... But the reign of these political rascals is finished. You will see the measures that the Assembly took both to avenge the national majesty and to pay homage to a generous martyr of liberty. Philippe Lebas in a letter to his father, January 21 1793
Ah! if it is true that man does not die entirely and that the noblest part of himself survives beyond the grave and is still interested in the things of life, come then, dear and sacred shadow, sometimes to hover above the Senate of the nation that you adorned with your virtues; come and contemplate your work, come and see your united brothers contributing to the happiness of the homeland, to the happiness of humanity. Marat in number 105 (January 23 1793) of Journal de la République Française
O Lepeletier! Your death will serve the Republic: I envy your death. You ask for the honors of the Pantheon for him, but he has already collected the prize of martyrdom of Liberty. The way to honor his memory is to swear that we will not leave each other without having given a constitution to the Republic. Danton at the Convention, January 21 1793
O Le Peletier, you were worthy to die for your homeland under the blows of its assassins! Dear and sacred shadow, receive our wishes and our oaths! Generous citizen, incorruptible friend of the truth, we swear by your virtues, we swear by your fatal and glorious death to defend against you the holy cause of which you were the apostle; we swear eternal war against the crime of which you were the eternal enemy, against the tyranny and treason of which you were the victim. We envy your death and we will know how to imitate your life. They will remain forever engraved in our hearts, these last words where you showed us your entire soul; ”May my death,” you said, “be useful to the homeland, may it will serve to make known the true and false friends of liberty, and I die content.” Robespierre at the Jacobins, January 23
Wednesday 23 [sic] — We went to Madame Boyer’s to see the procession. I saw the poor Saint-Fargeau. We all burst into tears when the body passed by, we threw a wreath on it. After the ceremony, we returned to my house. Ricord and Forestier had arrived. I was unable to stop my tears for some time. F(réron), La P(oype), Po, R(obert) and others came to dinner. The dinner was quite fun and cheerful. Afterwards they went to the Jacobins, Maman and I stayed by the fire and, our imaginations struck by what we had seen, we talked about it for a while. She wanted to leave, I felt that I could not be alone and bear the horrible thoughts that were going to besiege me. I ran to D(anton’s). He was moved to see me still pale and defeated. We drank tea, I supped there. Lucile Desmoulins in her diary, January 24 1793
…Pelletier's funeral took place this Thursday as I informed you in my last letter (this letter has gone missing). The procession was immense; it seemed that the population of Paris had doubled, to honor the memory of this virtuous citizen. The mourning of the soul was painted on all the faces: it was especially noticed that the people were extremely affected, which proves that they keenly felt the price of the friend they had lost. Arriving at the Pantheon, Lepelletier's body was placed on the platform prepared for it; his brother delivered a speech which was applauded with tears; Barère succeeded him. Then the members of the Convention, crowding around the body of their colleague, promised union among themselves, and took an oath to save the country. God grant that we have not sworn in vain, that we finally know the full extent of our duties, and that we only occupy ourselves with fulfilling them! In yesterday's session, Pelletier's daughter, aged eight [sic], was presented to the National Convention, which immediately adopted her as a child of the homeland. Georges Couthon in a letter written January 26 1793
How could I be so base as to abandon myself to criminal connections, I who, in the world, have never had more than one close friend since the age of six? (he gestures towards David's painting). Here he is! Michel Lepeletier, oh you from whom I have never parted, you whose virtue was my model, you who like me was the target of parliamentary hatred, happy martyr! I envy your glory. I, like you, will rush for my country in the face of liberticidal daggers; but did I have to be assassinated by the dagger of a republican! Hérault de Sechelles at the Convention, December 29 1793
For a collection of Lepeletier’s works, see Oeuvres de Michel Lepeletier Saint-Fargeau, député aux assemblées constituante et conventionnelle, assassiné le 20 janvier 1793, par Paris, garde du roi (1826)
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honey-flustered · 2 years
Text
Cruel Little Vixen 1
Rockstar!Perv!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader
Enemies to Friends to Lovers (18+MDNI)
Summary: Lacking in magazine sales, your boss assigns you to follow the life of Lead Singer/Guitarist of Corroded Coffin ‘Francis The Freak’ a.k.a. Eddie Munson for a month to write an article that could potentially save the magazine. Eddie Munson wanted fame but didn’t know the consequences of this include pretending to be someone he’s not. When rumors begin to float around causing some notoriety for his reputation, his manager agrees to an exposé of his life to make him seem nicer to a broader audience much to Eddie’s chagrin. Now the two of you are set to make your time together a living hell.
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A/N: So my side blog Usetheeauthor has been shadowbanned for about 3 days now. I’m currently working on getting that undone but until then will be posting some of my work here. This is a new story. It’s 8 parts maybe. It was meant to be a one shot smut but I love writing series so here we go!
>>>>>Series Masterlist Part 1 of 8
Series Music Playlist
Word Count: 5.0k+
Warnings: graphic language, violence, sexual content, sexual tension, misogyny, gross!eddie, perv!eddie, mean!eddie, mean!reader
It’s Friday night and the air is thick. Bodies pressed up against bodies yet it to each fan present it was all worth it. The crowd roars as the members of the band Corroded Coffin walk onto the stage. There was Drummer Jessie Blue, Bass Guitarist Mel Tomas, Background Vocals/Pianist Judas Argo, and finally…Lead Guitarist/Lead Vocals Francis The Freak, the man you once knew as Eddie Munson.
When he got famous, he changed more than just his name. He was an entirely different guy from who you knew back in high school. You never knew him much. Hardly crossed paths but he was actually quite polite the few encounters you’ve had. Now you couldn’t help but roll your eyes every time you see him on TV. He’s an absolute douchebag yet his fans eat it up. Trying to see the appeal would be considered beyond your comprehension.
Tonight was the night you’d put your disdain for him aside. You needed to remain professional if you were going to get through this article about ‘Francis The Freak’. Your job had assigned you the mission to spend an entire month with the rockstar gaining insight on his personal life as a means of bringing up sales for the magazine company. You hesitantly accepted the mission. Although you knew this could be your big break, you couldn’t possibly see yourself enjoying this time knowing the kind of person Eddie was now. Nonetheless, you took the challenge, attending the concert as your first assignment in diving into the life of the rockstar.
Your intentions for the article was to write the truth regardless of the ugliness of it. However, the group’s manager believed you’d write anything that would make Eddie Munson look good. As ‘Francis The Freak’, Eddie had a bad reputation because of his bad boy persona. He was rude, loud, messy, violent…pretty much everything people should hate but the crowd loved it. The backlash really came from the parents of his younger fans who feared the 80s rockstar dabbled in satanic worship. This obviously affected some album sales. So in hopes of showing his humane side, the manager agreed to the exposé. It’s a quid pro quo kind of situation. They get the album sales, your company gets more magazine sales.
The metal band begins to play it’s first song, “Cruel Little Vixen” and the crowd immediately goes wild.
“Stay away from her, She’s a disaster. Rips your heart out then eats it for supper. She has no fucking desire to fit in. Watch for her fangs, She’s a cruel little vixen.”
Even if you weren’t a fan of their music, you could admit that the songs were really catchy and you’d even found yourself swaying to the rhythm. It’s captivating witnessing someone from your high school being incredibly famous. Here you were looking up at a man you once saw stood himself on top of the lunch table and make an impromptu speech about denouncing popularity. You’d always got the feeling he’d become famous. After all, he is super talented, charismatic….really good looking.
You felt like a fish out of water. You’d never been to a metal concert before and there were things that made you question whether some things were a regular occurrence. Like when the girls would beg for Eddie Munson to spit on them or the men who’d pour beers on their heads as proof of their devotion.
By the end of show, you were left both befuddled but entertained. It was quite a show and slowly you understood the hype.
Once Corroded Coffin thanked their fans, they headed off stage to their dressing quarters. This was your move now. You flashed your backstage pass to the security guards strutting your way to the dressing rooms when you noticed a line of fans waiting to meet their idols.
Scanning the area, you spotted the manager of the group trying to control the screaming fans. You walked up the man, clearing your throat. His eyes land on you, confused.
“Look, Toots, I already let these girls know that the band’s not ready to meet anyone right now. If want to see ‘em you’ve gotta wait til ya get the say so. Alright?”
“Okay. No. It’s Y/N. Not ‘Toots’. Mr. Neds, I’m from Tone Magazine. We spoke over the phone about 3 hours ago. I’m here to interview Mr. Francis.”
His face loses color and mouth goes agape, realizing his mistake. “Um, erm, I-I apologize, Ms….”
“Y/L/N,” You answered, trying not to roll your eyes. He pretended as if he didn’t remember your name. You were one of the biggest writers out there and he dared to play this act all because you were a women when he desired a male interviewer. The desire for an male interviewer solely based on the idea that you’d only fall for his charms, fuck him, and forget all about the article. It’s sexist and tasteless accusation to say the least. “Am I allowed to go in now?”
“He’s a little busy.” Mr. Neds chuckles nervously.
“I can deal with bratty rockstar behavior, Mr. Neds. I’ve got nothing to fear.” You brushed past him, walking into the dressing room only for your eyes to land on a fully clothed Eddie Munson pounding away inside a fully naked groupie girl seated spread eagle in his dressing room chair. You let out a loud gasp causing them to look in your direction. Quickly, you shut the door.
“Umm, so he was definitely ‘busy’.” You say, a tinge of embarrassment creeping up on your face.
“One second.” The manager says putting up his index finger then rushes inside. You put an ear to the door, you can hear muffled yelling. Then, the door swings open and it’s the groupie girl who’s now disheveled and angry, shooting you a look before walking away.
Mr. Neds exits the room, letting out a big breath. “So, that’s cleared.”
“O-okay, I guess I’ll go—”
“Wait,” He halts you in your tracks. “There are several things you need to know about interviewing Francis.”
“Okay.”
“So far we’ve gone through 3 interviewers before you. Francis isn’t easy to interview. In fact, he hates them so he does things to ruin them. First interviewer was a woman. Fucked him and wrote a revenge hate article about him when he avoided her calls. At least if it were a man, they wouldn’t write fake crap because they’re pissed at Francis avoiding them, too. So I hope you understand, I still have my biases about you being female.”
“A bit discriminatory since men would definitely write lies as well but go on.”
“So, first don’t fall for his flirting. Second, he’ll try to flip the interview on you. He’ll ask you questions and you’ll completely forget the task at hand. Like the second interviewer we worked with, Eddie started asking him questions, guy realizes he never wanted to be a writer and was only trying to appease his mother, never wrote the article. Lastly, Francis may not speak at all. Or he’d just give you a hard time, circling around or giving vague answers. Ended up driving the last interviewer to the brink of insanity trying to get a word out of him. Made that guy also quit the field altogether.”
“Pardon my french but he sounds like a pain in the ass.” You admitted.
“A pain in my brain to be more exact. I literally take medication to ease the amount of migraines I get dealing with these boys. But their my boys at the end of the day.”
You nod although you just couldn’t agree with someone deteriorating their health for the raising of 4 grown bratty rockstars.
“Simply remain unwavering but polite maybe slightly kiss-assery.” He continues to advise.
“I think I go it.”
“Good. Then by all means, you are free to go.” He makes a slightly bow, gesturing you to the door.
“Nice! Thank you.”
“Hey, how does she get to go inside?” One awaiting fan asks.
“Yeah?” Another chimes in.
You walked in the room, choosing to let the manager deal with that on his own. When you entered, you were given a moment to look around the room. Eddie’s bandmates were in the room the whole time in the back playing video games unfazed by his previous tryst.
You shook your head in disgust until your eyes landed on Eddie. He’s sitting on top of the vanity table, lightbulbs around the mirror shining behind him like he was a divine being. He was even more gorgeous up close. His beautiful dark curls cascading a little passed his shoulders, soft red lips, body filled with tattoos, beautiful chest sweaty with the exertion of tonight’s show, his happy trailing leading down to his leather pants constricting over his large…(gasp) He’s watching you! You immediately snapped out of your trance faking a smile.
“Mr. Francis! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” You held out your hand. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N from Tone Magazine. I’m a huge fan of your band.”
He looks down at your outstretched hand then back at your face, refusing to shake it. You awkwardly lower your hand.
“Huge fan, huh? You didn’t look like you were based off your reactions during the show.”
“Y-you seen me in the crowd.”
“You were about a couple feet away from front row. It’s kinda hard to miss.” He flicks at his lighter, lighting the cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“Right.” You nod. Obviously there were so many fans within the crowd. You still felt surprised that out of all the faces in the sea of people that he’d looked at and remembered yours.
He gestures you to have a seat. The seat where he’d recently plowed someone in.
“No thanks.” You declined.
He smirks. “Why?”
He finds this amusing!
“I’m just more comfortable standing.”
He shrugs, taking another drag his cigarette.
“S-so, could you tell me a little about your upbringing, Mr. Francis?” You pull out your little journal and pen from your jean’s pocket, anticipating his answer.
“You can call me Eddie. I’m not on stage.”
“Of course.” You nod still awaiting his answer.
He just stares back at you, smoking. He’s giving you the silent treatment. It’s cute that he thinks that that’ll work on you.
“I’m fine standing here in silence, by the way,” You say, dropping your fan persona. “Your body language will only reveal to me what you wish not to speak.”
“Oh yeah?” There’s a glint of interest in his eyes.
“Mhmm,” You confirmed. “Like the way you’re manspreading right now. It indicates to me that you wish to assert your dominance over me. I’m not intimidated though. I work mostly around men. Deal with that shit practically everyday. And this relaxed ‘i don’t give a fuck’ attitude is all act. I think you care a lot. You want this interview as badly as your manager does because you want people to love you again.”
“That all you got?”
“You’re 21, a huge metalhead in high school, liked D’n’D, and you’re a huge dork.”
He snorts then chuckles. “Anyone could get that information. In Hey Hello Magazine’s interview, I expressed some of these aspects of my childhood.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t voluntarily read Hey Hello Magazine. Besides, I’m just that good.” You lied obviously you went to school with him so you’d know these things but he didn’t remember you so you’ll use this to your advantage.
He hops off the vanity dresser, sauntering over to you. His combat boots hitting against the floors loud enough for you to tune out the noise of the members hooting and hollering in the background from their video game fun.
When he’s finally in front of you, he towering over you. You never remembered him to be so tall. You look up at him holding his gaze so he knew that you weren’t fazed.
“Now tell me what I’m thinking right now?” He says face only inches from yours.
“I can tell you what I’m thinking. I think you should step away from me or else I’ll be forced to defend myself. You reek of sex and sweat.”
His face is blank at first. You worried you went to far with your assertiveness but then he smiles down at you. He finds you a lot more entertaining than moments ago.
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“Ya know what I’m in the mood to meet some fans. Boys! How ya feeling? Should we get out there?” Eddie calls out to his bandmates.
“Yeah, why the hell not?” Mel Tomas speaks up ending the game. The remaining boys quickly follow heading over to the front of the room.
“Wait! What about the interview?” You say while trying to hold your composure.
“We’ll get to that…eventually.” Eddie winks.
—————
Eventually was as close to never than it was to soon. Eddie purposefully took time with each fan going over the allowed time per fan. Every now and then, he’d look at you behind him, shooting you a teasing smirk. He knew you had little time on your hands with him today. This was his little game. What he didn’t know was that you were willing to be player two. For now, you’ll be patient. You’ll be good. Slowly, you could break him the way he thinks he’ll break you.
Once the signings were completed, the boys headed back to the dressing rooms to gather their things for departure. The other boys were a lot more kinder to you even asking you questions about being the only girl working as a writer for Tone Magazine.
The entire band was attractive. Attractive enough that it made you feel a little insecure. You weren’t ugly, quite the opposite actually, but you’d always worn things that people would deem you as a plain jane or basic. You didn’t stand out much because you were comfortable in the background. That’s the way you liked things. As a writer that’s how it worked, you let your words speak for you not your appearance. So it wasn’t surprising that neither of the men tried to hit on you although you couldn’t say it didn’t get to you with the way they’d flirted with the other girls.
“So how’s the first day?” Eddie asks you, pulling you from your thoughts.
“Terrible actually. I picked up no significant information out of you. If you would’ve only cooperated, I would’ve gotten what I needed for today and you’d still get to meet and greet your fans without me moping in the background.”
“Except I wanted you to suffer. I like seeing you mad at me, kitten.”
“Don’t call me that. I already had to chastise your manager for calling me ‘Toots’. I’m not your pet so don’t give me a pet name. My name is Y/N.”
“What’s your deal, anyway? Laugh a little. You’re so fucking uptight that if I were to stick a lump of coal in you, it’d come out a diamond.”
You can feel yourself begin to burn with rage. “That is a complete misconception. Coal cannot turn into diamond!”
“Way to get ‘em there, Y/N.” You thought, sarcastically.
“And I’m not uptight,” You continued, your back pressed against the dressing room door and journal clutched to your chest. “You have been rude, crass, and extremely obnoxious. You know what, I think I’ve gotten all that I needed for Day 1’s article actually. So, I thank you in a way for giving me exactly what I’ve been looking for. I can already see the headline now: Francis The Freak is a narcissistic—”
His hands slam hard against the door, resting them on either side of your head. You jolt at the sudden action, rendered speechless. He’s staring down at you the way a predator stares down at its prey but then he gives you his famous toothy smile.
“I look forward to reading it…kitten.” He whispers, saying the pet name in broken syllables for emphasis.
You stare up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Mustering up the little courage you have, you pry one hand from around you, searching around for the door knob while your eyes remained lock to his.
He looks down between you before removing himself slowly from you, his expression still littered with amusement. You managed to open the door, glaring at him one last time then walked out of the room and slammed the door behind you.
—————
“And then he called me uptight and invaded my personal space. The guy’s such a fucking asshole.” You were currently having a bottle of red wine and venting with your best friend and roommate Chrissy Cunningham.
“I know but he’s sooo hot. Ya know, he once had a huge crush on me back in high school.”
“You only ever bring it up nearly every time you see him on television.”
She chucks popcorn at you, giggling. “Shut up! I only bring it up all the time because I was so close to fucking him. When Jason and I broke up, I was more than ready to give in. I chickened out last minute because silly me had feelings for Jason. I regret it. But he did end up eating me out and I swear to you I met God that day. He didn’t even ask for anything in return just enjoyed making me cum. They don’t call him ‘freak’ for nothing.”
You and Chrissy also went to the same high school along with Eddie. You weren’t friends with her either since she was the popular cheerleader and you were more of an in-betweener. She was always very sweet so you never had any ill comments about her. When you’d both gone to college, your friendship formed there and the two of you became inseparable.
“I could’ve went on happily without knowing this,” You laughed. “I already had my pure eyes tainted by him penetrating some random girl before me.”
“That’s just the life of a rockstar, baby.” Chrissy shrugs.
“It’s exactly why I could never date a musician.”
“Yeah, same. Unless you can give me his digits.” She says sticking her tongue playfully.
“I love you too much to put you through that. Trust me, you don’t want to deal with him.”
“I’m sure they all can’t be bad. What about Jessie the drummer?”
“Oh, he’s the sweetest. Very polite. Complete opposite of Eddie. Actually had a great convo with him. Wish I were interviewing him instead but he’s not the one in need of clean slate.”
“And Mel the guitarist?”
“He’s intelligent but super condescending at times. Doesn’t mean to be, though. He’s like the philosopher of the group.”
“Judas the Pianist?”
“British.”
“British isn’t a personality trait.” She laughs.
“It might as well be. But I guess I can say he’s shy but also really funny when he gets going. The artistic one.”
“So then what does that make Francis The Freak?”
“The bad boy minus the sensitive side. Total douchebag.”
“I just can’t see that with Eddie. He was an absolute sweetheart when I knew him.”
“Fame changes you. Honestly, he’d still treat you a lot more nicer than he would me. You’re what he’s expected to interview him so he can gawk and stare at.”
“Oh, come on. You’re so pretty. If I were into girls, you’d be my type.”
You snort, shaking your head. “You’re only saying that because your my friend.”
She cups your face lifting your head to face her. “No. I mean it. And you should give him a chance. It was only the first day. You’ve got 30 more to go. Who knows maybe you’ll be a huge Francis The Freak fan at the end of it?”
You pull away from her embrace. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”
—————
The next day, you were given a call from your boss who didn’t seem pleased by the first article you’d written. You’d think he’d be happy with this kind of story since it would make up for the juicy content needed to boost sales.
“You could’ve at least ran it by me before you decided to publish it.” He yells into the phone.
“I’m truly sorry, Mr. Bauman. But this is my experience unfiltered. Even if you were to intervene, I’d write the same thing. The people need to know. If anything, I wasn’t nearly as a harsh as I’ve should of been.”
He sighs. “What will I do with you?”
“Maybe give me a promotion?”
“Nice try but no. You hadn’t proven to me that you’re ready for that. I believe in you. I do, Y/N. Obviously, I’m an advocate for women in male dominated work spaces but...”
You rolled your eyes, knowing where this will lead. It was always advocacy for women but you’d always receive the short-end compared to your male counterparts.
“You can’t let your emotions get the best of you.”
“So, I’m just an emotionally fueled woman is, that it?”
“Not what I said.”
“You actually did maybe not explicitly but it’s very apparent.”
“I’m only giving you advice. Boys will be boys. They’re young rockstars who are used to being hounded by interviewers. He’s obviously not taking it seriously because he’s over it but if you befriend him first then maybe he’ll get to talking.”
Now it’s your turn to sigh. “I guess I’ll be…nicer.”
“Good. Now I’ll need you to drive to this address today. 3638 Birch Street. It’s Francis’s home. You’ll be spending day 2 with him all day.”
“All day?!”
“That’s what I said. Good luck and be nice.” He quickly hangs up the phone just as you were about to protest.
You huffed. This is going to be torturous.
—————
You arrived at the home which although large was surprisingly humble for his status. Ringing the doorbell, you awaited patiently for someone to answer the door.
The door opens revealing Eddie in only a robe, his hair messy. You were surprised to see that he’d answered and not his staff. His smile quickly drops.
“Oh, it’s you.” He groans in a disappointed tone. “I was hoping it was the pizza guy.” He turns around then turns to look at you again. “Unless you have pizza.”
“No!”
He rolls his eyes and mutters, “Come in.”
“Thanks for the warm welcome.” You say sarcastically, following him in.
You looked around. There was no staff whatsoever. No guards, or maids, or butlers. Simply just Eddie. It was actually refreshing seeing someone who’s clearly so rich not care for those things.
“Did you read my article, by the way?” You say, smiling smugly.
“Yes, I did.”
“I hope you learned your—”
“I love it.” He simply states causing you to have a full stop moment.
“You love it?” You asked incredulously.
He nods. “That part where you said ‘I attempted to see his point of view in life but then I realize I couldn’t get my head that far up my ass.’ It was actually pretty clever.”
“Why aren’t you pissed off?”
He leans across the island table between you two. He’s the one that’s smug now, knowing that he’s won this round. “I think it was witty, funny, somewhat true. Except you forgot one thing.”
“What’s that?” You crossed your arms.
“That I made you blush. You felt things that you probably hadn’t felt in a long time. Possibly never.”
You stutter and stammered. “I-I’ll have you know that it wasn’t that I was blushing. I was just embarrassed by the situation entirely. I may have shown my bitchiness a bit too soon and now it’s causing this rift between us when I only meant to befriend you.”
“You were?” His eyebrows raise in surprise.
“Well, yeah. But now I’m not so sure I’d like to be friends.”
“Hey, I think we can definitely be friends. I’m willing to bury the hatchet. After all, your article did help boost my popularity a little.”
“How on earth?”
“People find the situation hilarious. Now I’m seen as some funny yet eccentric troublemaker,” He puts a hand to his chest, sporting a fake sincere look. “I’ve gotta thank you for the boost, friend.”
You seethed.
Eddie - 2, Y/N - 0
“I’m gonna go for a swim.” He says walking around the island counter.
“What about the interview?”
“Geez, you’re like a broken record. If you wish to get to know me, why not try to make it subtle and fun? You can always take a swim with me, too.”
You thought back to the advice your boss told you. You were approaching this the wrong way after all. Befriending him was your best bet.
“You can go for a swim but I’m not going in with you.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“Just go in your underwear.”
“Oh, hardy har har but no. This is meant to be strictly professional.”
Eddie stands in front of you. You shoot him a look of confusion only to morph to shock when you notice him untying the robe.
“No.” You turn your face away the very second he throws it open.
“Relax. It’s nothing you haven’t seen.”
“I immediately excused myself when I walked in. Didn’t even allow myself the chance to linger for a second. I do not wish to see your dick now.”
“And you won’t. I’m wearing swim trunks underneath,” He puts a black polished finger under your chin, turning you to face him once again then tugs at your chin to look down. He was, in fact, wearing swim trunks but god his body this close looks so appetizing now that he’s wearing even less. “See. I wouldn’t intentionally flash you. It’s not what friends do.”
“Then why’d you trick me like that?”
“Because I like seeing you mad, remember?” He lets go of your chin and heads out to the backyard.
“Friends don’t like making their friends mad!” You called out after him.
————
You were currently sat at the poolside, journal in hand while Eddie swam away answering questions with less resistance.
“This is a pretty big house. Must get lonely being all by yourself.”
“I don’t live alone.”
“Who is she?”
“He’s my uncle. Took care of me most of my life while my mother was in and out of my life and my dad in and out of prison.”
“Oh,” You felt terrible for assuming. “Your uncle seems like a very strong person. I’m glad he took the tole of being your guardian.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely strong. I’d do everything I could to pay him back for all the times he’s cared for me. I wasn’t an easy kid but he stuck it out when my parents couldn’t.”
“Seems like you’re providing him just that kind of appreciation.”
“I guess. But I could do more. I want to make sure he never has to worry about anything ever.”
Today was genuinely surprising for you. Chrissy was right. Maybe he’s still a sweetheart.
You look up from writing, noticing things had gone quiet. Eddie was nowhere to be found. The moment you thought to peer over to look in the water, Eddie springs out of the water right front of you causing you to throw the notebook into the pool.
“Eddie! You dick!”
“You can just write it again.”
“I had really good things to say. Now I’ll completely forget them.”
“It’s at the bottom of the pool. You wanna go get it?”
“What do you mean if I want to go get it?” He gives you a mischievous look, his hands resting on your thighs. Your eyes widened. “No, Eddie. No.”
It was too late. Eddie yanks you down into the pool and you go underwater. You’re frightened. You couldn’t swim so all you could do was hold onto him for dear life.
You both come up for air, your arms and legs are wrapped around him tightly. He’s laughing but you were trembling like a wet chihuahua. Then, he notices the fear in your eyes and he grows concerned.
“Hey. You okay?”
“Can’t swim. I’m scared.” You were in the deeper side of the pool your biggest fear.
He rubs your back to comfort you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I always assume everyone can swim. That was really crappy of me. Let’s get you out of here.”
His hands cup under your butt, lifting you back up onto the poolside. Then, he pulls himself up. Your knees were to your chest, still trembling.
Eddie felt terrible. He was only having harmless fun. He didn’t mean to scare you this badly. Taking a towel, he wraps it around your body then rubs his hands over your arms.
“I’m sorry.” He repeats, eyes pleading for you to answer.
“Um, it’s okay,” You finally say. “I should tell you. I have a fear of swimming pools. It’s a stupid phobia. I know but it’s because of a traumatic experience I had in my childhood.”
“Like you nearly drowned?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.” He says once again.
“You already said that.” You laughed.
“I know. I just feel like shit.”
“That’s a first,” You remove the towel from your body. “Maybe I should go home. I could get some new clothes and be right back.”
“Or I can hand you some clothes while yours are put in the dryer.”
“It would save me a trip.” You shrugged.
You noticed Eddie stare before his eyes quickly avert. And was he…blushing?
You looked down at your white top. It’d gotten wet and your nipples were erect and visible even through your black lace bra. You shot one arm over your while the other lightly shoves him.
“You perv! You wanted this to happen.”
“No, I swear.”
“Oh, right.”
“Have I been dishonest with you?”
“Plenty.”
“Name one time.”
So much for having a friendly moment, the two of you bickered back and forth well up until the pizza arrived. While he munch away at his slice, you watched him from the corner of your eye admiring his ranges of emotions. He was more than just an angsty ball of horniness. He can be a decent guy when he’s more comfortable with you. It was nice to see him so concerned for your well-being but what really made you feel a little giddy inside was the fact that you managed to make him blush, too.
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Homecoming Queen: A School Spirits Story.
Wally Clark x Reader
Part 2
A/N:I just finished season one of school spirits and I had this idea I kind of ran with. This is a single part story but I left it open for more parts and i could definitely be persuaded to make more parts.
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Split River High Homecoming week 2013
Homecoming had once again rolled around at Split River High and the festivities had just begun. I was sitting in my first period class patiently waiting for the morning announcements. They were supposed to be announcing the homecoming court during announcements this morning. This is supposed to be my year. I had been voted onto the court each year by my classmates but this year was finally the year I could be in the running to be named Homecoming Queen.
“Good morning Bandits!” Assistant Principal Hartman’s voice echoed over the intercom. “Today kickstarts homecoming week and I know we are all looking forward to our court announcement but there are a few things we must announce before then.”
I zoned out while he rambled off the announcements that came prior to the homecoming court announcement. I was lost in thought wondering if they would change things up this year for the 30th anniversary memorial of Wally Clark, our fallen football star who tragically died during this game back in 1983.
The memorial had been the same since I started attending the football games, since 2007, my brother Lincoln’s freshman season the memorial has always been a moment of silence at half time followed by a speech from his parents. It’s sad really reliving the worst moment of your life year after year, replaying that horrible moment every time you step foot in the stadium named after your son. That must be why his dad stopped coming back in 2008.
“Earth to Y/N!” My best friend Bailey snapped her fingers in my ear breaking my train of thought. “You spaced out, he’s announcing homecoming court now!”
“What grade are we on?” I asked my interest suddenly brought back to the announcements
“Sophomores about to be Juniors.”
I listened intently as each Junior Maid was announced patiently waiting for Senior Maids.
“Now for your Senior Maids,” Mr. Hartman said enthusiastically over the intercom. “Haley Johnson, Bailey Lewis, and Y/N YL/N. Let’s give a round of applause for your 2013 homecoming court!”
“We’re both on homecoming court!” I squealed at my best friend and teammate!
“Maybe a basketball girl will finally win Queen!” Bailey smiled back at me.
“Alright girls settle down.” Mr. Anderson called out, “congratulations but we have a lesson to get through.”
We ended our conversation and Mr. Anderson proceeded with his lesson. The rest of the day passed by rather quickly and before I knew it, it was lunch time. Bailey and I were sitting at our normal table with the rest of the team.
“So Y/N do you have a dress picked out for homecoming?” Sarah asked.
“I sure do,” I said showing her my phone with the picture of my dress on it.
“Oh my god you are going to look amazing!” She squealed.
“Thank you, Bailey’s dress is even prettier than mine.” I redirected the conversation.
While the rest of the team chit chatted about homecoming and their plans for the game and dance I was lost in thought about who I would have escort me during presentation at the game Friday night. My dad and mom separated 4 years ago and he moved off to Florida and has since remarried. I could try to have him come in to escort me along with mom but he would likely have an excuse as to why he couldn’t make it. Maybe Lincoln would escort me along with mom. I spent the rest of lunch lost in thought.
The rest of the week went by fairly quickly. It was a blur of dress up days to show our school spirit. Tuesday was decade day, I sported my best 80s get up. Wednesday was twin day, Bailey and I were twins in our basketball jerseys. Thursday was country vs country club and I dressed like a proper country girl. Lastly Friday was spirit day, I went all out to show my school spirit!
———————————————————————
Homecoming game 2013
I stood with my mom and Lincoln on the track as we watched the final seconds of the the second quarter tick by. We were currently winning the game by two touchdowns. At halftime we were lined up waiting to be presented, the presentation was to take place after the memorial. This year Mrs. Clark gave her speech first. The speech however was followed with a slideshow this year, pictures of Wally flashed on the screen below the scoreboard I had never seen pictures of him before, he was a rather attractive young man. The video ended with the stadium name flashing.
“We all knew his story,” Lincoln said to me as we waited for my name to be called. “He was the football teams idol.”
“He was your idol,” I sighed, “but I can’t help but feel sad for him, he had a young life that was cut short by the sport he loved.”
“He was the best player to grace this field Y:N.”
“Yes he was but could you imagine having the future he could have had only to have your life ended by the sport you loved?” I could feel the tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. “Then every year your family has to relive that awful moment over and over?”
Our conversation was cut short by the announcer calling out my name.
“Y/N is escorted tonight by her mother Amber YL/N and her brother former state champion quarterback Lincoln YL/N.” the announcer spoke into the microphone. The crowd erupted into a roar of cheers although I’m not sure if they were for me or for the returning Split River royalty I was related to.
“Give it up one more time for your 2013 Split River Homecoming Court.” The announcer spoke as we all left the field in the choreographed manner we had practiced all week.
We made our way back to the stage set up for the court and we all took our seats.
“Did you hear the way the crowd cheered for you?” Bailey asked, “I’d say based on that you are definitely our Homecoming Queen.”
“You know they weren’t cheering for me,” I sighed. “They were cheering for Lincoln, a part of Split River royalty.”
“You don’t know that!” She scolded
“I do Bailey, he’s a state champion, I’m just his little sister.”
“You are so much more than that.” She said she popped me in the back of the head. “You are literally one of the most popular girls here, you’re friends with everyone and have always gone out of your way to do for anyone who needed a helping hand.”
“You and I both know that that doesn’t hold a candle to being a state champion around here.”
She rolled her eyes at me but let it go. Thankfully the remainder of the game passed faster than expected and I was able to escape the stadium in no time.
———————————————————————
Homecoming Dance 2013
I walked into the gym with my chiffon train flowing behind me. I felt like a million bucks, this was my last homecoming dance and I was determined to have a good time no matter the outcome of the vote. I quickly found Bailey and the rest of our teammates and we proceeded to head to the camera line where we could take one final team homecoming picture together.
Once we finished with the pictures we made our way out on to the dance floor. The DJ had just started playing ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ by One Direction, we all sang in unison at the top of our lungs “baby you light up my world like no body else,” as we danced and jumped around. The song was fading out and the tune to a slow song was fading in when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Turning around I was face to face with Jax Dawson, our quarterback.
“Can I have this dance?” He asked smiling sweetly and sticking his hand out to me.
“Of course,” I said taking his out stretched hand. He put my arms around his neck and placed his hands on my waste very lightly. We swayed in sync to the music and lyrics of ‘I’ll Be’ by Edwin McCain.
“You look gorgeous tonight Y/N.” He whispered in my ear.
“Thank you Jax.” I could feel my cheeks flush. “You look handsome.”
“Handsome enough I could snag a second dance later in the night?” He flirted
“We might can arrange that.” I laughed.
We danced with each other until the song faded out and a shrill screech of the microphone broke us apart.
“Can we please have our Seniors on homecoming court report to the stage?” The Principal Mrs. Sheridan called out.
I made my way to the stage my heart was beating out of my chest I was so nervous. I could literally hear my heart beating each step I took that got me closer to the stage.
Once everyone was situated on stage Mrs. Sheridan only added to everyone’s anxiety by dragging out the crowning. She started by crowning the Homecoming King, who was none other than Jax.
“No time for your 2013 Homecoming Queen,” she called into the microphone. “Drumroll please, this years Homecoming Queen is, Y/N YL/N!”
The crowd erupted in applause and I stepped to Mrs. Sheridan for her to crown me. Once the crown was secured to my head I turned back to find my best friend Bailey, “You did it,” she smiled, “I knew you had this.”
“Thanks B,” I said hugging her, “finally one of the basketball girls won.” We both laughed.
“Please give it up one more time for your king and queen.” Mrs. Sheridan called out followed by applause.
I had to stay on stage with the court and take pictures for a few minutes after the presentation. Once the pictures were done I headed to the steps of the stage so that I could get back to the dance floor. As soon as I stepped off the first step I felt my dress tug on something causing me to miss the second step and fall down the steps hitting the back of my head on the steps as I fell down them. I could faintly hear people calling my name and I could tell my hair was wet with something, I stuck my hand to the back of my head and brought it to my eyes to see my fingers covered in blood before everything went black.
I’m not sure how long I was out for but when I finally came to I had a major headache and was still on the gym floor. My vision was still slightly blurred but I could make out a male figure standing in front of me.
“What happened?” I asked groggily.
“You fell down the steps of the stage.” A sweet unfamiliar voice responded, “you hit your head on the way down.”
“How long was I out for?”
“Well about that.” The voice responded, I could listen to this boy talk all day,
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked as my vision finally began to refocus. I was face to face with a face I had only ever seen once before, on the screen at last nights game. “Yo- you’re wa- wa.”
“Wally Clark,” he finished my sentence for me “Homecoming King of ‘83”
“That’s impossible,” I panicked. “I must be dreaming or in a comma because you’ve been dead for 30 years!”
“It’s not impossible cherry pop.” A girl with dark curly hair stated plainly.
“The only way it’s not impossible is if I’m.” I choked on the last word of my sentence.
“Dead.” Wally stated softly grabbing my hand.
“No I can’t be dead!” I whaled, “I’ve got a concussion or something.”
“Im afraid not,” a shorter boy with glasses said pointing off in the distance to a crowd of people around someone.
I pulled myself together enough to get up off the floor and see what was going on. I could see Bailey, Sarah and Jax clearly in the distance. I made my way to each of them touching their shoulders and telling them I was ok but neither of them even noticed I was there.
“They can’t see or hear you,” the shorter boy said.
“This can’t be real.” I real I sobbed, as I pushed my way through the crowd to see what the commotion was I saw my lifeless body laid out on the gym floor as one of the teachers attempted CPR.
“She’s not breathing.” The teacher shouted, “I’m going to continue with chest compressions until the EMTs get here!”
“Dispatch says they’re two minutes out,” another teacher called.
My friends were all a wreck, the sound of their sobs and cries tore through my heart like a bullet from a gun.
“She can’t be gone!” Bailey cried out. Sarah could barely speak she was crying so hard. Jax had his head in his hands and I could hear soft sobs escaping his lips. My friends were hurting and there was nothing I could do.
Within minutes the EMTs burst through the gym doors with a gurney. They rushed to the group of people surrounding my lifeless body.
“How long have you been doing compressions,” one of them asked the teacher who had been working to keep my heart beating.
“Ten minutes,” he responded.
“She doesn’t have a pulse,” the other EMT called out. “Let’s try to shock her.” They pulled out their defibrillator and proceeded to put the paddles to my chest. Shockwaves ripples through my body and I didn’t even move. They tried a second and third time with not a single movement. I was gone and I wasn’t coming back.
“Let’s call it,” one of the EMTs said. “Time of death?”
“Ten o’clock,” the other responded.
They began getting a body bag ready and I felt a hand lightly touch my shoulder. “You don’t need to see this,” the sweet voice from earlier said. I turned around and instinctively buried my head in the chest of the tall brunette football player. He wrapped his arms tightly around me as I sobbed into his chest.
“Let’s get you out of here while this is cleaned up.” He said as he ran his hand through my hair.
“Where could we even go where I won’t see them drag my body out of the school?” I sobbed
“Let’s go to the auditorium,” he started walking while he still held me into his side. “You won’t be able to see anything in there.
I didn’t say a word I simply let him lead me to the auditorium. I wasn’t ready to die. I still had so much life to live. I was supposed to go to college and play college ball. Meet a wonderful man and get married and have kids and grow old with the love of my life, I wasn’t supposed to die at my senior homecoming dance!
By the time we had made it to the auditorium my sadness had turned to rage. I was enraged by what had been taken from me. Once the auditorium doors shut I let out a blood curdling scream from the rage that was coursing through me.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s ok,” tried to south me. “I know exactly how you feel. I felt the same way after reality finally set in. Mad at the world for what has been taken from you.”
“I’m pissed,” I cried. “ I had so much to look forward to a now it’s gone. No college ball, no love, no wedding, no kids, no growing old with the love of my life.”
“I get it,” he said putting his arm around me and pulling me to him. “I watched all of those same dreams I had die when I died on that damn football field 30 years ago.”
“How do you live with it?” I asked leaning into his embrace. I felt like I was safe sitting here with him as if not matter what he would protect me from whatever harm could come to me now.
“It gets easier,” he smiled, “eventuality the sting isn’t as painful as it used to be, that and with Mr. Martin’s help.
“Who is Mr. Martin?”
“He leads the afterlife support group we are all apart of.”
“Oh,” was all I could manage “what’s it like being a ghost?”
“It’s nothing like the movies make you think.” He giggled, “we can’t walk through walls, touch people, talk to them, or possess them.”
“So we’re really lame immortals basically?”
“Basically,” he sighed, “we still have the same needs and wants as we did when we were alive though.”
“So what we can get sick or something?”
“We’ll charley is allergic to nuts, even in death if he eats them he swells.”
“So can we still fall in love or have sex?”
“Yes and yes,” he laughed, “I just said we still have needs and wants like we did when we were alive.
God that laugh, something about his laugh was contagious. Hearing him laugh just put a smile on my pained face and I couldn’t fight back.
“I know the night didn’t go how you planned,” he said scratching his neck “but you are still homecoming Queen,” he said pulling out my crown, “and the homecoming Queen does get a dance with the homecoming king.”
“The homecoming king is still alive,” I said quizzically.
“This years king is yes but how about a king from 30 years ago?” He asked as he placed my crown back on my head.
“It would be my honor,” I smiled as I stuck my hand out to him.
“You know I never even made it to accept my crown,” he said as he took my hand in is. “I died the night before they crowned me so I never even got my dance.”
“Until now that is.” I smiled up at the handsome jock who had his arms tightly wrapped around my waist. “We don’t have any music.” I said I we swayed together in silence.
Wally began to hum the tune to ‘Iris’ by the Goo Goo Dolls then began to sing the opening lyrics. “And I’d give up forever touch you, cause I know that you feel me somehow, you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be and I don’t wanna go home right now.”
I was mesmerized by how good of a singer he was and before I knew it I was lost in the song. My arms around his neck and my head lay perfectly on his chest, this moment eased the pain I felt moments before for just long enough for me to enjoy the dance.
The song had been over for a while but Wally and I still stood in the middle of the auditorium my arms around his neck and his around my waist neither of us wanting to break the comfortable space we were in.
“Wally?” I asked softly “how did you know that song, it came out years after you died?”
“I’ve been to so many of these dances over the years you can’t help but learn the songs.”
“I see well,” I sighed.
“Well what?” He asked concerned.
“You sang my favorite song very well.” I smiled.
“I’m glad I could do your favorite song justice.” He said as he let one arm fall from my waist and moved it to cup my cheek. “Do you feel better?”
“I do thank you,” I smiled as I leaned my cheek into his touch. Being in this moment felt right I didn’t pull my check away from his touch and he didn’t pull his hand away from me either we are just standing there looking into each others eyes. The next thing I know both of us are leaning into each other, within seconds his lips are pressed to mine in softest and sweetest kiss I have ever felt. His lips are soft and they feel like they were meant for mine. Moments later we break the kiss both of us breathless.
“I will never forget this night Y/N,” he smiled as he ran his thumb across my cheek bone.
“Neither will I,” I say as I reach one of my hands up to grasp the hand he has placed on my cheek.
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bluhourz · 1 year
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when you get hurt
-
Having a crazy tall boyfriend had it perks. Like being able to put your head on his chest when you hug, how he intimidates anyone who makes you uncomfortable as soon as he walks over, and how he can reach everything on the high shelves for you. The last one was a problem when he wasn't home though. Hence why you shakily stood on a chair trying to reach the cereal he placed on the highest shelf in the kitchen.
"I swear it's like he forgets how short I am," you huffed as you strained forwards.
Just as you felt the box touch your fingers the chair gave way underneath you. This is how you found yourself stuck at home with a cast covering your left leg. Hiding it from Yeonjun was not the best choice you could have made but you knew how he would react and you didn't want to distract him. You decided to just tell him when he came back home.
-
Finally the day came and Yeonjun was coming back home from the USA. You have been missing him like crazy, like you usually do, but you knew how big it was for them to be performing there. Looking at your leg you felt a bit nervous about what he would say. You didn't have long to worry about it before he burst through the door.
"I'm home baby!" he yelled with a big smile on his face. He was expecting you to be running towards him to jump in his arms like you usually do. Instead he saw you smiling sheepishly on the couch.
"Junnie," you said as you tried standing up.
As soon as he saw your cast he dropped everything and ran over to your side.
"No, sit down," his hands gently pushed you down again as he crouched in front of you, "What happened? Why didn't you tell me? Do you need me to get you something? No, wait. First, how in hells name did you even do this? Did you try dancing to Crown again? You know I said I would teach you when I came back." Yeonjun had a frown and a massive pout on this face.
"No, I was trying to get the cereal that this guy who has like 80% legs put right at the back on this highest shelf possible. It's not that serious though," you laughed.
"Jagi, this is serious," his voice showed how hurt he was feeling, "How could you not tell me? You're hurt. And you have been all alone. Why have you been trying to deal with this by yourself?"
"I've not been by myself," you sighed. You knew he was angry. He had the right to be. "Y/F/N has been coming around almost every day to help me."
"You know that's not what I mean," Yeonjun ran his hand through his hair as he also sighed, "How could you not tell me that you broke your leg? You know I would've flown down immediately."
"Which is exactly why I didn't tell you. Imagine what MOA would say if you just didn't perform at Lollapalooza. As a fellow MOA I couldn't do that to them or to me."
You tried to joke with him to lighten the mood but it didn't quite work. The frown stayed ever present on Yeonjun's pretty face as his eyes stayed on your leg.
"Baby, please don't be upset with me," your voice was soft as you took his hands in yours.
The slight way he leaned forward into your touch gave you hope. Finally, he let out a big sigh as his eyes met yours.
"I'm really sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want you to worry when you had such an important show. I'm okay though. Really."
He stayed quiet as you spoke, trying to explain yourself. His eyes didn't leave your face now. You gave one last smile to convince him you were okay.
"Really? You promise?" his voice was soft as he asked.
"Really."
Carefully, Yeonjun placed his hands on your cast. He inspected some of the drawings and messages your friends have written down so far. Finally, he found one that managed to make him smile.
"Who just drew a butt?" he chuckled.
"Ooohhhh, so that was Y/F/N. You know the time we went to the river for the picnic?"
And so you two shared the stories of what you have been up to while he's been gone. You were just happy to be together again, forgetting briefly about your injury.
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lizzaneia-elizalde · 2 months
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the way i gasped when i see you have obey me! as fandom you follow is so dramatic, no but i swear I gasped dramatically pinky swear!!
Your headcannons for Yan! Solomon because he's my husband. I love his enigmatic style and how he has "oops! just created another disaster but hey i also have the solution" energy and on the serious note that despite knowing he had very less chances with MC in original timeline he still had their back everytime. I love my Shady McWizardson so much i cannot explain it to you. When NB came i was like 'this is it. this is solo stans era and we are living our dream!' How they'd play house with each other has me kicking my feet!!
Alsooo,, who's your favourite OM character 👀
-🌼
Yandere! Solomon
GIRL I AM ALSO IN LOVE WITH SOLOMON HE'S SO SHADY AND LOWKEY YAN. Although he DOES need to lay off the kitchen like stop going there bbgirl-- ALSO, favorite OM character? With the brothers, it's Beel. I love my big boy, my himbo, my everything. Jealous and clingy Beel is a blessing that comes once in a blue moon and I thank last year's valentines event for that. Outside of the brothers, it's ironically Solomon and Barbatos LOL FAIR WARNING THOUGH, I'm not that far yet in Obey Me Nightbringer. I did complete the original Obey me up to 80, but that's it. SO THERE WILL BE DETAILS THAT ARE WRONG!No nsfw for this one hehe
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You know how everybody says that no things and events are coincidences?
This sorcerer definitely and deliberately got you transported back in time to solo you.
You don't need to know that though.
At first, he indeed got a bit guilty from isolating you so suddenly and without a warning from your beloved demon brothers.
But the more he saw the beauty of you and him living like a domestic couple together?
It eased his guilt almost immediately.
Back then in the original world, he spent most of his time gazing at you from afar. Wishing that it was he who was closest to you.
Not those demon brothers that he can't seem to shake at all.
Sure, he became your master/mentor, but that's it. You never saw him more than that.
And it frustrated him greatly.
So he had no choice. I hope you forgive him for that :(.
Solomon definitely got more closer to you once you went back in time.
But it was still hard not to frown when he sometimes hear you cry in wanting to go back to the present.
So, he does his best to distract you from everything.
Solomon definitely manipulates everything to his whims if it means getting closer to you.
I can also see Solomon being nicer to you and a distant coldness to him when somebody speaks to him that's not you.
Two-faced Solomon is a thing i've been thinking about for quite a while, and it fits him so well.
If he had a choice, he would just keep you from rekindling flames with the past brothers at all.
But he's too nice for that.
That, and he can't afford your image of him to break at all.
People will warn you about him and how he's shady.
But you know him best! He would never force a demon on a pact at all! All of these demons only knew the sorcerer Solomon, and not him.
Oh he would definitely use tears also. He will not hesitate to do so once he knows tears are your weakness.
He will build an image of a mischievous but good sorcerer in your eyes.
And he will not hesitate to eliminate those who threatens to break that image at all
Both of you are human! Only you and him are all the both of you got. The others cannot be trusted that much.
Even the brothers! They're not your demon brothers that's for sure.
So only rely on him.
And only him.
Let's just say it was a bad day for Solomon.
He went back to the present and he can hear the present demon brother's bemoans of agony from not having you.
They were about to tear the whole devildom apart trying to find you.
Oops, Solomon didn't tell them. His bad, really.
The sorcerer society also decided to pester him greatly.
Then, there's Barbatos in both the past and present to bring you back to the present to not mess with the timeline anymore.
But Barbatos foresaw this already. So what's the point?
This only made Barbatos frown and say "He's gonna regret that."
Eh. He won't.
When Solomon went back to the hall, he realized you weren't there.
Strange, you're usually home by this time.
He asked the demon brothers, nothing.
He asked Simeon and Diavolo. But nothing also.
He even went as far to ask Thirteen, only to get a face full of octopus.
He's getting frustrated, not until he saw little Luke acting fidgety.
Oh. He knows where you are.
Unfortunately for him, you ran away from the hall because you figured out that he deliberately transported you here.
You screamed at him, asking him why.
And you started to question everything about him. About how if he's really as nice as he is, as to why he's so adamant on helping you, on how he knows every solution to everything!
Solomon can feel his whole resolve crumble. All his hard work down the drain.
Last chance to make this right...
He got on his knees, hugging your legs and crying his eyes out. God knows how desperate he was for you to believe him.
"NO! Y/N I SWEAR I DID IT FOR A GOOD REASON I CANNOT SAY!"
He made it seem like the time travel was necessity for your safety, that something will happen if he didn't do it.
The waterworks, and his heartfelt confession of finally admitting his feelings wholeheartedly, and that he never lied to you... It felt genuine (It's not).
And you, ever so soft on him, decided to forgive him that easily.
And he smiles, for he knew he got to you.
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ovaruling · 9 months
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i found this very interesting, especially as a woman who has cheated death several times, came away from it disabled, and is now fiercely determined to live independently into old age, child-free (in this case, the relevance of that being the context of having no children to assist me with care or basic function as i age).
however, this is also important for all women, because being able to carry fitness (and by fitness i refer to the ability to complete everyday tasks and basic mobility without extreme difficulty or injury) into old age is a topic that affects us as a sex with some growing urgency.
statistically, we know (or should, by now) that women cannot depend on male partners/family members to care for us in times of illness or crisis, and that also goes for caring for us as we age. they leave. they shirk. they hope we’ll just die and relieve them of the burden of caring for us.
and even if male partners are not a factor, aging women ARE seen as a burden–to our families, to our friends, to our loved ones, to our doctors, to our governments, to our societies. having children or a partner or family members or friends does not necessarily guarantee that they will assist you in your old age.
so it is of utmost importance that we as women educate ourselves on how to stay as physically independent as possible as we age. here is an excerpt of the article that describes why i think this is so important:
"Think of the Centenarian Decathlon as the 10 most important physical tasks you will want to be able to do for the rest of your life. Some items on the list resemble actual athletic events, while some are closer to activities of daily living, and still others might reflect your own personal interests. I find it useful because it helps us visualize, with great precision, exactly what kind of fitness we need to build and maintain as we get older. It creates a template for our training.
I start by presenting my patients with a long list of physical tasks that might include some of the following:
1. Hike 1.5 miles on a hilly trail. 2. Get up off the floor under your own power, using a maximum of one arm for support. 3. Pick up a young child from the floor. 4. Carry two 5-pound bags of groceries for five blocks. 5. Lift a 20-pound suitcase into the overhead compartment of a plane. 6. Balance on one leg for 30 seconds, eyes open. (Bonus points: eyes closed, 15 seconds.) 7. Have sex. 8. Climb four flights of stairs in three minutes. 9. Open a jar. 10. Do 30 consecutive jump-rope skips.
The full list is much longer, with more than 50 different items, but you get the idea. Once they’ve read it, I ask them to please select which of these tasks they want to be able to perform in their ninth, or better yet 10th, decade. Which ones do they choose?
All of them, typically. They want to be able to hike a mile and a half, or carry their own groceries, or pick up a great-grandchild, or get up if they fall down. Or play 18 holes of golf, or open a jar, or fly somewhere on a plane. Of course they do.
That’s great, I say. You’ll make that kid’s day when you pick her up like that. But now let’s do a little math. Let’s say the kid weighs 25 or 30 pounds. That’s basically the same as doing a squat while holding a 30-pound dumbbell in front of you (i.e., a goblet squat). Can you do that now, at age 40? Most likely. But now let’s look into the future. Over the next 30 or 40 years, your muscle strength will decline by about 8 to 17 percent per decade—accelerating as time goes on. So if you want to pick up that 30-pound grandkid or great-grandkid when you’re 80, you’re going to have to be able to lift 50 to 55 pounds now. Without hurting yourself. Can you do that?
I press the issue. You also want to be able to hike on a hilly trail? To do that comfortably requires a VO2 max of roughly 30 ml/kg/min. Let’s take a look at the results of your latest VO2 max test—and guess what, you only scored a 30. You’re average for your age, but I’m afraid that’s not good enough, because your VO2 max is also going to decline. So you can pull it off now, but you likely won’t be able to do it when you’re older.
On it goes. To lift a 20-pound suitcase overhead when you are older means lifting 40 or 50 pounds now. To be able to climb four flights of stairs in your 80s means you should be able to pretty much sprint up those same stairs today. In every case, you need to be doing much more now, to armor yourself against the natural and precipitous decline in strength and aerobic capacity that you will undergo as you age.
Eventually, my patients get it. Together, we come up with a list of 10 or 15 events in their personal Centenarian Decathlon, representing their goals for their later decades. This then determines how they should be training. In the end, most people’s Centenarian Decathlons will probably overlap to a degree. Someone who enjoys stand-up paddleboarding, for example, would perhaps choose “events” focused around building core and cross-body strength. But she will likely be training the same muscle groups as I am doing for archery, and maintaining a similar degree of stamina and balance.
The Centenarian Decathlon is ambitious, no question. A 90-year-old who is even able to board a plane under her own power, let alone hoist a carry-on bag, is doing extremely well. But there is a method to the madness. These individual tasks are not out of reach. There are octogenarians, nonagenarians, and even centenarians right now who are running marathons, racing bicycles, lifting weights, flying airplanes, jumping out of airplanes, skiing the Rocky Mountains, competing in actual decathlons, and doing all sorts of other amazing things. So all these events are within the realm of possibility."
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hellfire--cult · 9 months
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Request:
i’d love a sequel where there’s a bit of a “day in the life” with the new happy family, or maybe like some vignettes of them getting settled in and making their new home their own? i would literally love any more content in this universe but there’s my ideas in the hat! 🤍
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Your wish is my command 💚
Hook!Eddie x Fem!Reader
wc 3.5K
Read the main story here. 🌟
Summary: This is what happens after everyone starts living in the home. A recap of everything that's happened until we reach the present.
You can always support your writers by hitting THE REBLOG button! 💚
You can always send requests for this beautiful couple! My ask is open!
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Hooked on You: After Story
Life after was something everyone had to get used to.
The boys had to be given names, full names, and thankfully Nancy who has some contacts in the newspaper industry pulled some strings for your “orphaned” family.
You didn’t give specifics, but told her that you started dating a man who was struggling to keep his family afloat. They had no records since they were living anywhere they could, and he just picked the kids up like strays. He and his best friend took care of the kids, and that it was a coincidence in meeting when you hired a ‘cleaning service’. 
But it wasn’t just any name. 
When you showed up with a big smile to your face at dinner, while everyone was enjoying themselves with the food, you had grasped in your hands the adoption papers for each boy in the group. 
Through tears, and smiles, they had hugged you one by one, appreciating your kindness but overall, calling you a different name. 
Mom.
Eddie, whose last name he chose was Munson, was stunned when he asked if they were going to call him Dad and each boy grimaced at that outcome, shaking their heads. After that Eddie had played a game of chase with the children, playing as the big bad bear, with his hands above his head, reaching for the boys.
That was another change.
“So, this is a– what?” 
“Prosthetic. It’s not normal to have a hook as a second hand here, and this has motor sensors, so you can basically have another hand!” You had explained to him, and he was stunned at the realization that he could have his left hand back. But sometimes, he discards the prosthetic, and goes back to his hook because he feels complete with it, that’s what he had told you.
Steve, now Steve Harrington, had acquired the second mom title. Whenever you were gone, or busy, or simply tired, he took care of the boys, played with them, and helped them clean the house. 
It was summer time, but you knew you will have to enroll the kids into school soon, but you had to teach them basic things, such as the ABC, numbers, some math, a little bit of history and biology, and Eddie and Steve listened intently, giving their own teachings here and there. 
You didn’t want your boys to go into middle school without knowing at least the basics, because then everything would be too complex, so thankfully, Robin, who is a teacher, happily comes once a week to give her own teaching to the kids. You found out that Steve and her had developed a strong friendship during the two months you all had been living together.
Another thing they discovered was music.
While the kids loved normal pop songs, except for Mike who had taken a liking to punk music, Steve had loved the 80’s vibe, sticking to it, and then some 90’s, but poor Eddie had not found himself in any of those genres. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was that he might like, but it wasn’t any of that. 
You had tried almost everything, latin music, grunge, rock, techno, but he was still not feeling any of those genres. You were in your room when trying everything in his music app on his phone, and you sighed when he, once again, said he didn’t feel anything from it. 
“I really don’t know what else to play Eds…” He grabbed his phone, which you had taught everyone in the house how to use and bought one for each of them, and started scrolling. 
“There was something about that Rock genre that you showed me… Something is there, but not fully?” You frowned in confusion at his words, and you had to think outside the box. You were showing him things you liked, so maybe, you had to show him things that you wouldn’t normally listen to.
“Hang on…” You grabbed his phone again and searched for a particular playlist. You grabbed his headphones from his night table, and urged him to put them on. He was confused, but did so anyways, and you pressed play onto the playlist.
Eddie’s eyes widened at the sudden strum of a guitar, wild, heavy, powerful, chord after chord. You bit your lip as you stared at his face, and by the smile that was spreading on his cheeks you knew that you hit the jackpot. 
He spent an entire day listening to Metallica. Then the next day to Slipknot. Then Guns ‘n Roses. My Chemical Romance. Megadeth. Rammstein.
The man was a metalhead.
After finding their own music, they had to find their own style. The boys almost wore the same things, sometimes jeans, sometimes shorts, sometimes plaid shirts, sometimes stamped shirts, sneakers… Steve had gone for the rich boy vibe, as you called it. He likes polos, dress pants, tight denims, sweaters, maybe a cardigan.
Now Eddie, you were surprised. He liked everything black, ripped, and he loved the sound of chains as an accessory on his hip. When he found out there were shirts of the bands he started to like, he bought a ton of them, some in white, some in black. One thing that stayed authentic of Eddie, was the black bandana, which he sometimes uses on his head still, or he puts it in his back pocket.
But one of your favorite things in the whole day was going into your room, to finally be alone with him. He was always reading a book, and you came to find out that he loved fantasy. It was funny, because he came out of a fairytale himself, but yet he loves those kinds of books. He devoured Tolkien in a week. 
He would always put whatever he was reading down to welcome you into bed, embracing you in his arms, gentle kisses that always turned into heated ones because that’s another thing that happened. He couldn’t keep himself from touching you. 
And you didn’t want him to. The boys at first made gagging noises whenever he came into the kitchen for breakfast and gave you a morning kiss, lingering there more than it should, but they soon got used to it. Whenever he could, he was wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close, kissing your neck, your face, your shoulder, anywhere he saw skin. 
So you had to introduce him to condoms.
He wasn’t a fan of them, but when you remembered you two didn’t use protection in Neverland, he told you to not worry. In Neverland time is completely stopped, as well as your cycle, and that would explain why you didn’t have periods while being there. You were in such a blissful experience that you didn’t even remember about your period.
But in this world, you could get pregnant, and even if you want a kid of your own with Eddie, there was still so much to get used to for him. But still, it didn’t forbid him from touching every single night, wanting to drown himself in you, and you weren’t complaining. He was always up for trying new things, and you both had discovered many together.
You taught Eddie and Steve how to drive, but there wasn’t much for you to teach because as soon as they touched the steering wheel, they immediately got the hang of it, and Eddie even described it as easy as sailing a ship. You couldn’t believe a former pirate said a car feels like a ship. With the prosthetic, driving an automatic is very easy for Eddie. 
The kids love the pool, you bought a slide for it and a lot of floaters for them to swim in. You noticed how maternal you had gotten ever since getting the kids into your life, and it wasn’t something you thought of ever having. Now, you want more, for some reason. You always have to shake that thought out of your head because that would end badly.
Another thing you did, not very recommended in the summer, was getting a tattoo. You had tattooed your grandma’s drawing of Neverland. You knew there was a diary of hers, and she sometimes read the story from her own head, and sometimes from there and showed you the drawing. She explained she could see the island at the top of the clouds, while flying with Peter.
So you outlined it and tattooed it on your wrist. 
When Eddie saw it, he was immediately interested, knowing about tattoos but the tribe were the only people that knew how to do it. You decided to visit the shop once with him, and he got a hook tattoo on his ankle, to test the waters of the pain. After a week, you couldn’t find him anywhere for three hours, sending you into a panic, only for him to return with six more tattoos on his body, with a wide grin on his face.
“It's summer! One is already bad, you got seven!” You had yelled at him, but he just shrugged and grinned down at you.
“I’ll get even more in winter.” 
But summer was ending, as well as the boys started becoming nervous of going to school, which was a private one so they had to use uniforms for it. They complained of course, but you had promised them that the teacher they were having was going to be very patient and that you met the kids' parents of the class already and they all seemed nice and welcoming. 
A week before the start of classes, you decided it was time for a last pool party, and so, you invited Nancy, Jonathan and Robin over, where Robin mentioned she had a long distance friend visiting and she had asked if they could come over with their little sister, to which you agreed. 
So now, you were cutting the vegetables for the salads in your kitchen, as Jonathan helped Will start the fire outside for the BBQ. For some reason, Jonathan had taken particular liking to one of your kids, but that’s good, because Nancy had found herself teaching Mike how to play some chess, and Dustin was already attached to Eddie like a Piranha. 
One of your boys, though, was sitting alone on one of the lawn chairs, looking at nothing in particular, just the ripples of the water happening  on the pool. You put down your knife, ready to go talk to Lucas, but the doorbell rings, making your head snap that way.
“Don’t worry, I got it!” Steve yells as he rushes towards the door, opening it, to see Robin, a smile on his face as they hug tightly.
“Hi there Dingus.” She pulled away from the hug to point behind her back. “My friend is unloading something and he’s right here, okay?” 
“Yeah sure.” Steve turns his head to guide Robin towards the kitchen and garden where everyone is and she immediately bolts away. He hears a clear of throat and his head turns back around, only for his eyes to land on blue ones, knocking the breath out of his lungs in an instant.
“Hi, um… Hope we’re not intruding, it’s just, I’m with my sister and I couldn’t leave her alone.” The blonde man says, looking at Steve with the same hazed look in his eyes. Steve shook his head to come out of the trance he was in and smiled, putting his hand out for a shake.
“No issue at all! The boys will love her. I’m Steve by the way.” The other man smiles, his white teeth showing off as he presses his hand against Steve’s, electricity immediately coursing through their bodies.
“I’m Billy.”
“Are you going to keep flirting or…” A soft voice says from behind him, making Billy let go of Steve’s hand with a groan, a blush appearing on his cheeks as he makes way for the redheaded girl to come forward. “I’m Max.” 
“Oh hi–” Steve felt the presence of someone else next to him, and he turned his head to see Lucas, staring at the girl with a dreamy look in his eyes. 
“Hi… I’m Lucas.” Max’s lips tugged slightly up at the sight of the boy, her skateboard in hand. “What's that?” He pointed at it and she smiled widely, walking inside the house, grabbing onto his hand to guide him outside where everyone was.
“I’ll teach you!” Steve could hear her yell as he let Billy in. He closes the door only to see Billy looking all over the house with a confused frown on his face. 
“This is big… You all live here?” He asks and Steve stands next to him, nodding as he looks around as well.
“Yep. We are grateful to her, you know. We would have…” He suddenly heard some footsteps coming over and Steve turned his head to see Eddie reaching them, with a piece of bread in his hand, his other one reaching out to shake Billy’s.
“I’m Eddie.” He greets and Billy looks down at the prosthetic hand, shaking it carefully with him, and when Eddie lets go, the blonde man’s curiosity got the best of him.
“I’m Billy– Um… how did that happen?” He asks, pointing at the hand. Eddie looks down at it and then back at Billy.
“Crocodile bit it off.” He shrugs and walks towards the kitchen once again as Billy stands there completely stunned. Steve’s eyes were bulging out of his skull almost, and he was trying to come up with another excuse because that sounded way too unreal and he didn’t want Billy to think Eddie was messing with him.
“Fucking sick.” Billy says with a smile and he looks back down towards Steve. The brown haired man lets out a sigh of relief and then nods.
“Gruesome, but yeah, sick.” Billy just stands there looking at Steve, his mind completely drifting away and Steve could even sense that, as the blonde’s eyes were just gazing into his, and that was making Steve’s heart accelerate rapidly. “W-What’s wrong?”  That made Billy snap out but his face was still the same, still staring as if his eyes were not to be trusted.
“I-I don’t know, you just seem… like you came out of a fairytale or something.” Steve couldn’t help the big smile and blush that spread on his cheeks, while Billy realized what he had just said, embarrassment filling him from head to toe, stammering on his words to try to save it but Steve was just laughing, enjoying the man’s company and voice. 
You were sneaking glances through the kitchen door, a smile on your face as you bit your bottom lip. Everyone has someone in your family, your big family, and that fills you with joy. You felt an arm creep from behind you, pulling you close to a warm body. You giggle as his face immediately snuzzled in the crook of your neck, causing your skin to grow goosebumps from it. 
“Eddie–”
“Don’t spy on them. Let my second in command flirt in peace.” He says in your ear and you turn around to face him, smiling widely up at him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.
“I’m just so happy… Everyday just feels like a dream.” You say to him, and he gives you a nod, a gentle smile spreading on his lips as he leans down to kiss your cheek, then the tip of your nose, expressing his love for you.
“I will never regret the day I thought you were Wendy and kidnapped you.”
“I should sue.” He fake gasps while shaking his head at you.
“Now, you’ve hurt me Angel.” Your eyes looked to your side, seeing everyone playing with each other through the window pane you had, and your eyes filled with tears at the sight of it all. Nothing could make it better. Nothing at all… Except.
You felt Eddie grip your side, giving it a soft press to catch your attention again. You looked at him and his eyes were nervous, full of doubt yet with determination. 
“Eds? What's wrong?”
“I know… The kids don’t call me dad… But–” He licked his lips while swallowing a big lump down his throat and your heart was almost out of your chest and you could hear its beating on your ears. He gives you a big grin as a tear already rolls down your cheek.
He grabs your hand and walks out of the kitchen to take you upstairs and into your grandmother’s room. He then opens the balcony’s door and steps out with you, the breeze already hitting you and the sun beaming down at your body.
“Close your eyes Angel.” He whispers in your ear as he lets go of your hand. Your breathing became heavy as you did as told, and you raised your head up, towards where the second star to the right is. You always wished on it, wished that it wouldn’t take your love away, that it wouldn’t take your children away, wished that everything was real and not a dream.
“Eddie–”
“Open them and turn around.” You did as told, turning to see Eddie on one knee, a box on his hand as his elbow rested on his knee. Your heart got caught in your throat as you looked at the diamond in the box, covering your mouth with both of your hands as tears started spilling out uncontrollably from your eyes.
“What…?”
“I want to be their dad. I want to be with you, forever, for as long as you’ll have me, or for as long as we live. You’re it for me Angel, you have been it for me from the moment you decided to fly towards me, towards the ship, instead of here.” He choked up on a sob and then took a deep breath to keep going. “I know it’s soon, but I can’t imagine my life with anyone else. In my eyes, into my future, you’re always there. You will always be there.” 
You dropped to your knees, as happiness flourished in your chest, smiling through your tears as you put your left hand up, putting it on display for him. You looked up at his big doe eyes, a tear slipping out of his left one as he looked down at you as if you were the only thing keeping him alive.
And you were.
“I’m ready to be Mrs. Hook.”
And when our journey is through, each time we say "Goodnight", we'll thank the little star that shines, the second from the right.
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A/N: Remember you can still send requests for these two! I plan on making more little one shots for them, but this one is good so you can all know what happened after the return 🥰
Hope you enjoyed this magical little thing!
Song at the bottom is Second Star to the Right from the original 1953 Peter Pan soundtrack.
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ingravinoveritas · 9 months
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How do you feel about the fact that angels and demons are non-sexual beings in Good omens?
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Anon #1: Well, this is a great question and I appreciate you sending it in for me to answer. Including the other Anons here since they are relevant.
I actually have a lot of feelings about angels and demons being non-sexual beings in Good Omens, which I will do my best to explain. I think the first thing I have to do is make sure I understand what you mean by non-sexual. I know Neil has said that angels and demons do not have genitalia "unless they make an effort," so by that measure, we can say angels and demons are genderless beings (agender or genderqueer perhaps as well, depending on the angel or demon). That, to me, is distinctive and not the same thing as non-sexual, which I consider to be beings who--by design or choice--do not engage in sexual intercourse.
The other thing we have to consider is the distinction between book!Good Omens and TV show!Good Omens. I have not finished reading the book, but it is my understanding that Neil (and Terry, of course) established the angels and demons as genderless in the original text. When the show was adapted for television, 30 years had passed since the novel was published, and so much had changed in that time, so a lot of things were updated to have Good Omens more align with the sensibilities of the modern era (one example is Neil talking about Crowley's aesthetic as an early '90s "Wall Street" type and how they had to figure out what the equivalent of that would be in the present day).
One thing that hasn't changed very much, however, is the portrayal of gay/queer people in the media. For much of those intervening 30 years, gay and queer people were shown as stereotypes--flamboyant, one-dimensional caricatures who existed as "sidekicks" (the "gay BFF") or object lessons for the straight characters (I would say this was especially the case in the late '80s and '90s with the AIDS crisis).
By this time, gay and queer people could exist on TV, but only if they were non-sexual/sexless. One example of this is Blanche's brother Clayton on The Golden Girls. After he comes out to Blanche, he brings home his fiance Doug in a subsequent episode, which has Blanche indignant. "I don't really mind Clayton being homosexual, I just don't like him dating men." Another example is Will & Grace, which aired in the late '90s. Will was a gay man who was one of the main characters, but while we constantly saw Grace falling into bed with random men and all sorts of escapades related to her sex life, we were never shown Will in any sort of similar situation. He could be gay, and he could be Grace's BFF, but he couldn't have a sex life of his own. It was this idea that gay people could exist in abstract terms, but not in the concrete reality of what it meant to be gay. Homophobia disguised as "acceptance."
So when I see/hear the word "non-sexual" in relation to gay and queer people, this is what comes to mind. What I also think of is that the absence of gay male sexuality (as for the majority of the show, Aziraphale and Crowley are male-presenting) is not the same thing as the presence of asexuality. I think it's been remarkably easy for Neil to take credit for that when it doesn't seem to have been his actual intention, and it also removes from him the responsibility of portraying that specific aspect of a non-heterosexual love story.
One thing I want to be very clear on is that I am in no way trying to put down anyone's head canon or what any reader or viewer may see in these characters, and I will never say that anyone's head canons are not valid. But when we are talking about the canon--in other words, what is actually on the screen--I feel like there is a tendency to overlook what Michael and David are actually doing with these characters.
In addition to what I mentioned above about gay characters on TV in the '80s and '90s, the other thing you absolutely could not do as a gay or queer person was fall in love. This is alluded to more in the example above from The Golden Girls, where Blanche is horrified that her brother wants to marry a man, until Sophia finally helps her understand:
Blanche: "Oh, look, I can accept the fact that he's gay, but why does he have to slip a ring on this guy's finger so the whole world will know?" Sophia: "Why did you marry George?" Blanche: "We loved each other. We wanted to make a lifetime commitment. Wanted everybody to know." Sophia: "That's what Doug and Clayton want, too. Everyone wants someone to grow old with. And shouldn't everyone have that chance?"
Here we are now, over 30 years later, and some people still don't want everyone to have that chance. Some people think two people of the same sex can't love each other the way a man and a woman do. Because queer love--and especially love between two men--is still looked at as "less than" and inferior to straight love.
This is the world Michael and David grew up in. This is the social and cultural climate they saw and navigated their own sexuality and identity in--'80s Britain, Margaret Thatcher, Section 28. Where being gay or queer wasn't just immoral, it was illegal. Your very existence alone was stigmatized, pathologized, and criminalized. And they are bringing that lived experience into the roles of Aziraphale and Crowley, albeit in different ways.
To me, Michael is playing Aziraphale as a repressed gay man. A man who--much like David--grew up in the faith and was made to believe that his natural feelings, attractions, and desires were wrong, shameful, and disgusting. We see this with Gabriel deriding Aziraphale for eating sushi and enjoying other Earthly pleasures, and it would be logical to think that it's taken a long time for Aziraphale to feel comfortable with the foods/drink/books he likes and the pleasure they bring him. Similarly, it's taken Aziraphale a millennia to find the one being who makes him feel comfortable with the desires he has. The being who is the exception to every rule Heaven ever laid out, who encourages Aziraphale to be himself in every respect. And that's Crowley.
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In this scene in the Bastille (which I know has been analyzed a thousand times and a thousand ways), when Aziraphale looks at Crowley like this, the desire rising up in him is more than obvious. The wide eyes, the heaving bosom, and of course the smoldering up-and-down glance all speak to this--he is, quite literally, checking Crowley out, without shame, possibly for the first time ever. Even though that desire is not outwardly expressed in GO season 1, it does not mean it doesn't exist--only that Aziraphale letting himself feel this (and Crowley being the one entity who allows him to feel this) is the first step in a very long journey away from that lifetime of repression.
In terms of Crowley, I feel that David is playing Crowley as a gay man who is afraid of commitment because he has been hurt in the past. There is a feeling of impermanence to Crowley--that, despite being a celestial, immortal entity, he doesn't like to hold onto things because deep down, he believes they will eventually be taken away. He knows who he is, but is all too aware of the consequences that come with it. So he does not get attached, because to him, attachment equals pain, and he believes nothing is worth that risk.
In the church scene in 1941 (which, again, so much has already been said), Crowley saves Aziraphale's books from the wreckage. It's been said by many that Crowley fell in love long before this (which I do think is true), but for me, I feel like this was where we saw that Crowley was truly "attached" to Aziraphale. He rescued Aziraphale from the Bastille, and he saved Aziraphale from the bombs of the Blitz, but in grabbing the books, Crowley isn't just saving Aziraphale's body--he's holding onto a piece of his soul. For the first time ever, Crowley has found something that isn't temporary, and after a millennia of cynicism, Aziraphale is the one entity who makes him feel fully and wholeheartedly ready to commit to something.
This is what I have seen and perceived in the portrayals of Aziraphale and Crowley that Michael and David have given us. I absolutely do 100% believe that asexual folks deserve representation--representation that is clear and specific, not just a side effect of Neil not wanting to show these characters expressing outward sexual desires--but I do not believe that is how Michael and David are playing the characters. It's not enough--or at least it shouldn't be--to have characters of marginalized backgrounds just standing in the room, or to say, "This one's gay," "This one's nonbinary," "This one's asexual." Including these identities in the fabric of the story means doing what Michael and David have done, which is showing these people or beings as three-dimensional, as fully realized characters who happen to have that identity, rather than as ticked boxes representing a certain identity on a checklist.
And to the Anons mentioning the Radio Times article (which seems like it came out a hundred years ago now)--Anon #4 particularly--I appreciate you sharing your thoughts with me, but I could not disagree with you more.
First of all, I have no idea where in the world you got that Aziraphale and Crowley's romance was explicit in season 1, because it was absolutely anything but. Three days after they posted that, RT posted another article seemingly backtracking on everything they'd previously said (as if we'd all somehow pulled a Gabriel Jim and forgotten everything about the first article). The phrase "Could romance be on the cards after all?" is in the bloody headline of article #2, which to me says that RT is going to go in whichever direction the wind blows--to create engagement and generate clicks--but also that it is very clear what they meant by "conventional" in the first article. I do not get the feeling that Radio Times--a mainstream publication that seemingly publishes any story they can farm from social media--was thinking of ace or aro identities or relationships when writing that. Even a tiny little bit.
Even a queer-centric media outlet like Pride today published an article saying the first season of GO lacked LGBTQ+ representation. Obviously, I do not at all agree with this or with several other things mentioned in the article. But what I am challenging folks to do is think about what this is really saying. By the end of GO 1 season, everyone accepts and assumes that Madame Tracy and Shadwell are a couple. She makes eyes at him, they have dinner together, and no one questions them being a couple, even though they are not shown being physically affectionate. Aziraphale and Crowley do exactly the same things, but no one (speaking of the larger public, outside the hardcore fan base) assumes they are a couple.
Maybe what that means, then, is that "representation" that requires you to squint and turn your head in order to see it--like Aziraphale and Crowley holding hands on the bus--isn't really representation at all. And by Neil "not wanting to label" something, it seems to suggest that committing to a label or embracing that gayness is something he is not comfortable with--for any number of reasons--and is why we could have a meaningless love scene with a straight couple that does not have a real connection (Newt and Anathema), but couldn't have a meaningful love scene with a gay couple that does have a devastatingly profound and powerful connection.
So yes, those are my thoughts on the angels and demons in Good Omens being non-sexual, and what that means in a larger cultural/societal sense. I know that when GO season 2 comes out in a week, I could be proven completely wrong about everything I've just said, and I will have no problem with that at all. I fully trust what Michael and David will bring to the roles of Aziraphale and Crowley, but my hesitation stems from the limitations they will potentially be up against, in terms of the script/storyline (and is something I have felt from the interviews we've seen with them this past week).
I'm hopeful for the best, though (as always), so we'll just have to see what happens...
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axel-mania · 3 months
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Something you might have noticed if you've ever looked at old joshi, particularly AJW in the 80s, is that nearly half of the wrestlers are either androgynous or outright masculine. I've heard the explanation for why we got the Beauty Pair, that they were casting Jackie Sato as the Takarazuka otokoyaku and Maki Ueda as the musumeyaku in order to sell CDs to teenage girls. This was queer-coded, obviously, but acceptable to mainstream society as Takarazuka is a transient and exaggerated performance. (Its purported goal is for girls to perform masculinity so they can empathize with their future husbands... lol and lmao.)
However, that clearly wasn't the formula they were following for the Crush Girls: they're both butches! And so I've looked at the idol culture at the time that AJW's rival JWP explicitly tried to emulate, which is very different from today. Girls groups actually tried to appeal to teenage girls and not just adult men, with a youthful girlishness that did by avoiding sexuality often seem fairly androgynous. At least, that's my impression from looking at them, and maybe I'm totally off base. So we could posit that to appeal to teenage girl fans, wrestlers similarly had to look accessible in spite of their muscles and scariness. The alternative is too crazy to think about. That being that they promoted so many fucking butches to appeal to the kinds of girls that grow up to be lesbians! Which is when I present exhibit A, "Boy".
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AJW, what is this? Well, it's a photobook by a wrestler named Kanako Nagatomo, who wrestled at the same time as the Crush Gals and was apparently very popular. Here's another insanity inducing tidbit, a video of her in a suit holding flowers and looking like your highschool boyfriend about to pick you up for the school dance. It's kind of the ultimate expression of the contradiction here, a constructed package for us to buy into yet only really emphasizing the looks these wrestlers chose to adopt every day of their lives.
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How else do we explain this? Genuinely? Because we know there's always going to be queer women interested in handsome butches. The peculiar thing is this being broadcast on mainstream television on a channel for mothers and their children. What strange historical factors gave us such mainstream queerness in a way we'll likely never have again? I know why we don't have it anymore. Rossy Ogawa, who climbed up the ranks of AJW management, and then started his own promotions after its demise, thought joshi could only grow by marketing to men and dropped all the show business meant to appeal to women. And now our big joshi promotions are Stardom and TJPW, where almost everyone is extremely feminine and we release sexy photobooks (which I do enjoy, don't get me wrong).
Anyway, this is what Nagatomo looks like now. (Sona and I both immediately thought "Blue hair and pronouns??") Still androgynous by choice, but married. Maybe the simplest explanation is the wrestlers saw their peers presenting a certain way and liked the look of it enough to copy it, without anything else in mind.
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crazyunsexycool · 1 year
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I just got an idea for a story and have to share!! So reader and Bucky are high school sweethearts and married just before he's in the war and taken by hydra. She never finds out what happened to him and never remarries because he was the great love of her life... but just after he's taken she finds out she's pregnant.
Flash forward to the present and when Bucky is saved by the avengers he tries to find reader but finds out she died and also that he has a son. He goes to meet his son who tells Bucky all about reader from when he was growing up.
Somehow Bucky finds a way to bring reader back through teleporting her or something because he simply can't live without her.
80 years later.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Warning: talks of death, angst, pregnancy, fluff.
A/N: the day I stop writing. About time travel send help because I love it. The TVA can kiss my ass. I also forgot I had written this and it was saved in my drafts for the longest time. I also thought it’d be funny if Bucky was a grandfather that looked younger than his grandkids.
Bucky stood in front of the red door and took a deep breath. He finally gets the courage to knock on the door, his hand trembling as he raked it through his long hair. When the door opens it feels like he’s been punched in the gut.
“Dad?” Surprise colors the voice of this familiar stranger.
“Hey kid.”
Bucky stood in front of an older looking version of himself. White hair and wrinkles around electric blue eyes. But the nose and the lips were all you.
James Grant Barnes, was the son you’d had right after Bucky had been shipped off to the Great War. The son Bucky would never know about because he’d fall off of a moving train and into the hands of hydra. For sixty five years you’d mourn the loss of your high school sweetheart, love of your life and husband. He’d asked for your hand in marriage as soon as you both graduated high school but only married right before he went off to boot camp. It was the happiest days of both your lives, a life you’d never get to share.
Both men stared at each other for a minute before a voice came up behind them.
“Who’s at the door pa?”
“Please come in.” Bucky gets ushered into the living room. “Make yourself at home.”
“Pa who was at the-“ a woman walks into the living room. Hair down to her shoulders, bright eyes and the spitting image of you.
“Rebecca, I'd like you to meet your grandfather.”
“You look just like her.” Bucky’s voice breaks as he speaks.
Rebecca smiles as she sits next to him and it makes Bucky’s heart ache even more. She takes his right hand in hers and squeezes it gently.
“I’m sorry you lost your time with grandma. I feel like I’ve known you all of my life, she talked about you all the time and she loved you so much.”
Bucky cried at that for two reasons. The first being because hydra stole his life away from him and second because he could barely remember you. He just always knew there was something or someone missing. He could only piece parts of your relationship by what Steve told him. The only thing Bucky had of yours was a picture and you looked a bit older then.
“Would you like to see pictures?” James asks his father. Bucky only nods.
Bucky and James spent hours together watching home movies and looking through albums you’d put together. James filled in the blanks for some pictures and family moments. The more he saw the more memories from your time together came back to Bucky.
“Grandma, what was grandpa like?” A very young Rebecca asked you.
You were both sitting in a garden having a picnic. James was currently recording the interaction. While Rebecca sat beside you, you held the newest addition to the family in your arms.
“Well he was a nerd.” You giggle along with Rebecca. “The cutest nerd at our school. He loved reading and dancing and anything to do with technology.”
“Did he ever take you dancing?”
“He sure did. We went dancing every Friday night and we would always drag Stevie with us. Even the night before he went off to war we went dancing.”
“Why didn’t he come back so he could dance with you again?” Rebecca asked innocently. She was still too young to understand what had happened.
The video cuts off there and James pauses the video before it goes any further.
“I wish I could have.” Bucky says after a while.
“She knew, Ma was never mad at you or anything. She just missed you. Even when she thought I wouldn’t notice I always knew when she’d be crying over you. Especially around your birthday or your anniversary. So once I was old enough to have a job I’d always take her out to celebrate.”
“She did a good job raising you. Did she ever-“
“She never remarried or dated anyone at all. Always said you were the love of her life and that there was no use in seeing anyone else because she would just compare them to you and it wouldn’t be fair to them.” James says sadly.
“She should have. She deserved to be happy.”
“Ma was happy with the family she had. She said it herself she wouldn’t change a thing.”
Bucky nods and stands up.
“It’s getting late, I should go. Thank you for not shutting the door on me and for showing me all of this.”
“I could never shut you out. This is your family too. I never thought I’d ever meet you,” James struggled to find the words to express how he felt. “I’m happy we got a chance to meet. You’re welcome back anytime.”
“Me too, I’ll come back soon.”
James stood and they hugged. The hold they had on each other was strong and neither of them wanted to let go. When they finally did they both had tears running down their cheeks but for different reasons. Bucky cried because he missed out on raising his son and James cried because he got a chance to meet his father.
Bucky left the house with a new sense of belonging. Although he never understood why you wouldn’t have written to him to tell me he would be a father. He knew he’d never get an answer so he tried to let it go. It was a complete shock when Steve told him about it.
From that day Bucky met with James frequently. They would mostly talk about the family and what growing up was like for James. His job and his kids. Bucky wanted to stay away from the topic of what happened to him with hydra or the missions he was going on with the Avengers. James didn’t seem to mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Today was a special occasion. It was Rebecca’s birthday and the family was going to have a party. Of course the first thing she did was invite her grandfather and anyone he wanted to bring. At first he politely declined, stating that he would probably ruin the party. But she insisted, with multiple calls. She was stubborn just like you.
Bucky showed up with Steve and Sam at his side. This would be the first time Bucky would meet the rest of the family and he was nervous.
“Grandpa, you made it!” Rebecca said in a joking tone. Bucky smiles and accepts the hug she’d offered.
“Wow, Buck was not joking when he said you looked like Y/N.”
Steve stood there stunned. While he had spoken with James on the phone he hadn’t met him or anyone else from the family in person. You had been one of the few people to see Steve for who he was and what he wanted to become. The two of you had been friends for as long as Bucky and Steve had been. He grieved your death when he woke up from the ice. Now he stood in a room full of people that had loved you, he took comfort in knowing you hadn’t been alone all those years.
“Hi, grandma talked about you just as she did gramps.” Rebecca smiles at Steve and opens her arm for a hug.
“James, this is Sam.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“No, the pleasure is all mine, James. Now tell me all about your mom. I bet she had the patience of a saint to put up with these two.”
“She did.” Both men chuckle as they move to the living room.
Not only did Bucky have a son and grandchildren, he also had great grandchildren as well as nieces and nephews. They had all gathered for Rebecca’s birthday in the hopes of meeting him. It was a surreal experience to have so much family. Bucky had thought that there would be no one left. That there wouldn’t be a place for him in this world but you’d managed to make sure he wasn’t alone. Even if you never got to know what you’d done.
After introductions were made the celebration really got started. There was music and conversations going on everywhere. Steve and Sam had been accepted quickly.
“Hey Steve,” Georgie, James’ son, called out. “You should try this.” He held out a plate for Steve to grab a cookie.
“Mmm,” Steve moaned out after he took the first bite. “These taste just like the ones Y/N used to make.”
“They are. When dad said you were coming Becs and I pulled out grandma’s recipe books. She had a little note next to this recipe saying they were your favorite. She was your friend too, thought you’d like having something she used to make.”
“Thanks,” Steve cleared his throat. “This is incredibly kind of you.”
“Don’t mention it. We made a few for you to take home. So don’t forget them before you leave.”
“Trust me I’m not leaving these behind.” Steve said with a chuckle as his phone began to ring. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”
Steve moved to a more private area as he answered Nat’s call and sighed as he hung up. He went through the house until he found Sam and Bucky out in the backyard.
“There’s an emergency, we have to go.” He announced grimly. “Buck, why don’t you stay? We’ll call you for backup if we need to.”
Bucky looked at Steve then at his son and some of the other people he had been talking with moments ago. If something bad was happening he had to go. He had to make sure to keep them safe however he could. So Bucky shook his head. “I’m going with you. I’ll be back before you know it, kid.” He told James with a wry smile.
James accompanied them to the front door where he exchanged a hug with Bucky. “Please come back safe.”
The request was a punch to the gut. You’d said those exact same words on the platform just before he got on the train.
“I’ll do what I can.” He knew better than to make a promise he couldn’t keep.
Days later Steve would come back and tell James that Bucky had disappeared in the snap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bucky stood in front of the same door he had five and a half years ago. He felt the same kind of fear he did last time. The door was opened this time by Rebecca who, upon seeing Bucky standing at the door, launched herself into his arms and cried. She pulled him into the living room and sat down on the couch.
“I’m so glad you’re back.” She said with a sad smile. It only served to make Bucky’s heart stop.
“Rebecca, where's James?”
Tears started to run down her cheeks again.
“He passed away two years ago. I’m so sorry.”
Bucky’s chest tightened. He’d never been there for his son in the moments that mattered and now his son had been taken away from him. He didn’t realize he’d started crying until Rebecca pulled him into her chest. Her arms around him and he sobbed. He grieved for his son, his wife and the life he’d lost.
“I thought Steve would have told you. He was with pa when he passed.”
“No, the minute I was able to come out here I did. We didn’t even get a chance to talk.”
After what felt like hours of them just sitting there and talking, Bucky excuses himself. He needed to get back before Steve went on his final mission.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” Steve quipped.
“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky and Steve hugged. “I’ll miss ya buddy. If you see her tell her I’ll always love her.” Bucky whispered.
Steve nodded and patted Bucky on his shoulder before heading to the platform.
Bucky held his breath as Steve disappeared. It should have taken only seconds based on what Bruce had said but Bucky knew he wasn’t coming back. Sam and Bruce began to argue but Bucky just turned around and started to walk away.
Bucky found it odd that Sam and Bruce went completely quiet and his steps faltered. He turned to find Steve standing on the platform and headed back.
“Tell her yourself.” Steve said with a shit eating grin as he stepped to the side.
Bucky had barely processed that Steve was back or what he had said when his eyes landed on you. You stood there wide eyed as you looked at him and then you moved. Before he could even react your arms were around his shoulders and your face was buried in the crook of his neck. Bucky snapped out of it and wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Hi.” You said once you pulled back, letting out a teary laugh. Your hands cupped his cheeks. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
“I’m pretty sure I do because I’ve missed you just as much.”
For the first time in years Bucky kisses you. It’s slow and timid but perfect nonetheless. He rested his forehead against yours and breathed a sigh of relief at having you in his arms again.
“My love, there’s something I have to tell you.” You inform him.
“If it’s about James I already know.”
“How?”
“I met him. He was a full grown adult but I spent some time with him.” Bucky tells you.
“I hope you’re ready to spend more time with him.” You say as you turn to find Steve holding on to a five year old version of your son.
“Hi daddy.” James waved excitedly and Steve set him on the ground. He takes off running and jumps into Bucky’s arms, giggling at the feeling of Bucky’s scruff tickling his cheek.
“Hi kid.”
You stand back to watch father and son interact for the first time. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst at the sight. Steve stands next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you in. You cry in his embrace, this time the tears are from happiness.
“Thank you so much Steve. I never thought I’d see him again.”
“The moment I knew we could travel through time, I knew I’d go back to get you. If anyone deserves to be happy it’s both of you.” He smiles down at you.
“What about you? You deserve happiness too.”
“And I have it.” Steve said just as the platform activated again and someone stood in the middle. The suit came off to reveal a very pretty redhead. “That’s Nat, she’s my girl.”
She walks down the steps and stands beside Steve as you pull away. Steve officially introduces you both before you move toward Bucky and James.
“I have heard so much about you it’s good to finally meet you, I’m Sam.” He said as he stretched his hand out for you to shake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You smile at him and then look up at Bucky. “Who is that?”
“That Bruce, he works with us.”
“Why is he green?” You whisper.
“We will explain as much as we can. Why don’t we go home?”
“Where is home?”
“I have a place in Brooklyn. You’ll stay with me while you get settled.” Steve spoke up.
“Is that ok with you?”
“Anywhere you are is ok with me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
The red door didn’t feel as intimidating this time around. Bucky explained everything that had happened to you. From his time at hydra to being saved by Steve to the family you still had. The door opens and Rebecca’s face immediately lights up when she sees it’s Bucky.
“Hey gramps, how have you-“ the words die on her tongue when she sees you standing just behind Bucky. “Grandma?”
“So I’ve been told.” Your eyes soften as you see the tears in her eyes. When she steps out and cups your face you let her. She stares in disbelief for a moment and then you bring her in for a hug.
“How is this possible? I mean you’re so young again.”
“I’ll explain anything you want to know.”
“Let me have George come over first.”
****
“That’s amazing.” Rebecca said after Bucky explained everything. “You should keep the house.”
“What?”
“You should keep this house. Dad wanted it to stay in the family but we don’t need it. But you do, especially if you want to raise him somewhere safe and away from the Avenger business.”
“George we couldn’t do that, this was your father’s house.” You said although it felt a bit weird.
“But he was your son first. Dad loved taking care of you. If he were here now he’d offer you this home. It would just sit empty until someone finally decided to sell it. Let him take care of you one last time, please.” Rebecca adds.
You and Bucky looked at each other before he spoke up. “Ok, we’ll take it.”
“Wonderful. We’ll clean it out for you and you can keep whatever furniture you’d like. You can change whatever you want in it. And if you need anything all you have to do is let us know.”
You all stood and headed to the main door and exchanged hugs.
“You have no idea how great it is to see both of you together. You deserve to be happy.” Rebecca said.
“Even though you’re technically younger than us, you’re still our grandparents and we’ll be here for you for whatever you need.” George added.
“Thank you. It’s very kind of you to help us like this.”
“It’s the least we could do, you are, or rather were, the best grandmother a kid could have asked for.”
You hug Georgie again and then Rebecca.
“I can still be that if you’d like. We can have Sunday dinners together. How about that?”
“Just like the good old days.” Rebecca said. “We’d love to.”
“Once we’ve settled in then, I’ll call you and let you know so the whole family can come over.” You inform them.
“It’ll be good. Steve has been asking about seeing you guys again.”
“So it’s settled. We’ll see you soon.”
~~~~~~~~~~
A year and a half later.
Most of the nieces and nephews and great grandkids had all left already. James was asleep in his room. The only ones left were Georgie, Rebecca, Sam, Steve and Nat. You all sat at the dinner table still trading stories. Bucky takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. You look over at him and give him a little nod and a smile which he returns.
“There’s something we’d like to tell you.” You say, getting everyone’s attention. “I’m pregnant.”
Everyone stares at you for a moment before they start congratulating you and Bucky. Sam and Steve take money out of their wallet and hand it over to Nat who is smiling smugly at them.
“What’s that about?” You ask her.
“I told them that you were acting differently. I said you were pregnant, they didn’t believe me so we bet on it.”
You laugh as you turn back to the others. Sam and Steve came up to hug you and promise to be the best uncles, but you knew that already with how they treated James. Next were Rebecca and Georgie who also promised to be there for you however they could.
****
You were exhausted by the time you laid down in bed. Bucky walked in a few minutes later after checking to make sure all the doors and windows were locked and the alarm was set on.
The bed dips behind you as Bucky lays down and immediately pulls you into his chest. His hands immediately rest on top of your very small baby bump and he kisses your shoulder.
“Today was good.” He murmurs.
“You say that every night.” He can hear the smile in your voice.
“Any day I get to hold you like this is a good day.”
“I love you Honey.”
“I love you sweetheart. And I love this little bean too.” He says as he smooths a hand over your belly.
“Little bean?”
“Yeah, we don’t know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl yet.”
“I think it’s going to be a boy.” You say confidently.
“Nope. It’s going to be a girl, I just know it.”
“You would be good with a little girl.”
“Can I ask you something, sweetheart?”
“Anything you know that.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me you were pregnant? You sent all those letters but you never mentioned it.”
This time you turn so that you’re fully facing him. You can tell it’s been weighing on him, the not knowing.
“It’s going to sound stupid. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid that if you knew I was pregnant you wouldn’t be thinking clearly out there. I don’t know, maybe you’d be afraid of getting hurt and would make a mistake and then you’d never come home. Now with everything I know I feel guilty that you never knew about him back then.”
“Don’t, I probably would have been distracted. I mean even back then all I wanted was to get back home to you. That was my only reason to fight as hard as I did. I think I would have been more afraid to fight if I knew about James. It could have been worse, I could have actually died. But I’m home now, we’re together and that’s all that matters.”
“It only took about eighty years.” You smile before pulling Bucky down for a kiss.
This new life you had was strange. You didn’t really belong in the current time you were in but you did belong with Bucky. The city was different, the only people you knew were your family and the Avengers. There was no one left from your previous life but you’d trade all of those things at a chance to be with Bucky.
Because Bucky had always been it for you. Whether it was in the 40s or eighty years later.
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