#like my skills are nonexistent right now

[greeksorceress]

cregan stark actually manages to make a good first impression in aemond’s demanding eyes.

the northern youth is as tall and as broad as his father and the rest of their kin, not older than aemond for more than a couple of years but already a man in the court’s account. the stark heir is also polite and honourable, just as they had expected, and he treats royalty and service with humility and grace. 

on top of all of that, cregan is a prodigy when it comes to swordsmanship, knocking on their backs three knights in a row the first time he’s invited to the training yard. 

so, it’s safe to assume that aemond would take a liking to him, finally meeting someone who he can consider an almost equal in skills and hard-work. 

it doesn’t take long for aemond to notice that he’s not the only one impressed by the stark. 

lucerys, who used to pester aemond for his attention and time, now spends his mornings and afternoons trailing after the older male like a little duck, utterly and childishly enamoured with the stark’s abilities and stories. 

aemond’s liking towards cregan considerably dampens after this realisation. he makes himself busy by his own and counts down the days for the northmen’s departure.

he doesn’t understand lucerys’ eagerness, to be honest. yes, cregan might be worth of being called a decent man, good-natured and skilled, but he wasn’t that impressive. after all, he was just a common man from the north, he didn’t have the old valyria blood of the targaryens, nor had the dragons or the power. 

what was a wolf to a dragon, anyways? aemond bitterly questions lucerys’ poor choices, purposely ignoring the voice that tells hims that he doesn’t have a dragon either.

much to aemond’s dismay, lucerys does seem very interested in the wolves. he asks about the lands and about the ice, about the castle and about the wall, but his questions always circle back to the damned animals.

is it true your woods are ten thousand years old? are wolves as loyal as dogs? can you trust them just as much? has it ever been so cold in winterfell that even you couldn’t stand it? what do wolves usually eat? do you feed them yourself? have you ever mounted one? do you rely on them when you go hunting or fighting? 

it’s disgusting how lucerys wastes his time in such insignificant matters. 

and then, on the third day of the northmen’s visit, aemond finds himself reading by the window in the third floor of maegor’s holdfast, hidden behind rows and shelves full of books in the most secluded part of the library. he likes coming here, because nobody seems to recall this little spot exists, a nd he likes to be left alone.

happy screech coming from the training yard makes him look away from the lines he was trying to memorise and he peers over the window.

there, lucerys and cregan stark seem to be sparring, but they’re not. they’re circling each other, using the wooden swords to jokingly poke more than to hit, and lucerys is laughing his little heart out as cregan lightly smacks his thigh with a smile. 

aemond closes his book with a loud smack and runs down to the yard, nor bothering to contain his fuming. 

as soon as he’s in the same space as them, he marches towards lucerys and grunts at him “weren’t you sick?”

it’s what he has said when aemond asked him to come to te library. that his tummy hurt and that he wanted to take a nap. 

lucerys has the decency to look ashamed. it does nothing to quell the unexplainable ire bubbling in his blood. “i felt better after my sleep! i was looking for you, but i couldn’t find you!” 

aemond looks at lucerys’ flushed cheeks, unrelenting, “hm.”

of course, cregan stark, the noble northern that seems to have taken with grace and mirth the position of lucerys’ guardian and protector, steps in.

“it’s true, my prince. he was looking for you in the training yard and i happened to come across him, so i invited him to a friendly spar. prince lucerys is nothing short of talented, so we got a bit caught”

lucerys looks up at the northern heir, doe eyes glassy and wide as if he was contemplating salvation itself, and it makes aemond’s lips curl in a snarl. 

“lucerys doesn’t like training, he always throws a fit when he’s asked to”

lucerys glares at him and aemond glares right back, daring the youngest boy to refute his words. 

cregan beats him to it.

“well, why don’t we train together then, my prince? let’s work hard so we can make prince lucerys feel fonder towards sparring after seeing us!”

everything seems to get back to normal after that. cregan and him spare together and lucerys cheers for him more than he does for cregan. the resentment slowly dissipates as cregan and him clash their wooden swords against each other’s, and aemond decides he had just been in a weird mood before.

jacaerys and aegon join them at some point, and cregan and aegon team against him and jacaerys. it’s fun, much more fun than their regular training.

lucerys claps loudly for him when aemond and jacaerys win over the older boys —their loss was completely on aegon, but it matters little to aemond if he won because of his own abilities or the lack of such from his opponent when lucerys looks at him with the stars in his eyes that the northern lord was taking for himself a while ago. 

they return back to the castle, their walk animated by the nonsensical talk of aegon and ajacerys over the stories of the tapestries hanging by the walls of the corridors.

“this one is about maelor I, when he lost his right shoe and sent a party to look for it to the forest!”

“and this one if about visenya, she’s about to dress her dragon in a gown and take it to a ball!”

cregan merely snorts, amused at their antics. lucerys, however, the innocent fool he is, looks at aegon and jacaerys in awe, nodding along their ‘lessons’. aemond chuckles at this, for he knows the maesters are going to have a rough time taking these thoughts out of lucerys’ head. 

then, lucerys turns to look at him, as if to corroborate their words, and aemond’s chest tightens with pride. he relishes in the trust, and drinks from that unsullied admiration whenever lucerys checks on him after aegon and jacaerys spit yet another insane conjeture. 

when they reach a tapestry that represents the crypt that was built three hundreds of years ago in hopes of imitating the one in winterfell, aegon grins like a madman. 

“and this is the best one yet to come! behold their sex fest in the dungeons!”

aemond grimaces. no matter what it is, aegon must always ruin it with his disrespect and blatant lack of manners. 

“It’s a crypt,” aemond corrects, “they wanted to built one as the one in winterfell, but decided against it in the last moment”

“really?” lucerys asks, awed at the explanation.

“yes,” confirms the stark, “we’re very proud of it. i like to think of it as the heart of our home”

“i guess it’s similar to the dragon pit for the targaryens,” offers aemond, “it’s the heart of our own home.” then, he turns to look at lucerys. “their crypt was built little after the castle of winterfell. all the starks who have perished rest within its tunnels”

cregan intervenes at this with a smile, trying to soften the commentary. “actually, my prince, the crypt was built much before the castle, after the long night, which is accounted to have happened around eight thousands of years ago. and technically, it’s not the burial place of all starks. burial sites extend beyond the walls into unprotected land, where many of my ancestors perished while fighting against the white walkers. their tombs do not hold names, but we know they’re in there” 

aemond tries no to make much of it. he bites his tongue and waits for the vitriol to slow down his throat before humming. his annoyance flares higher when lucerys mouth turns into a perfect O, wonderment and affection evident in his demeanour. 

aemond hated it. he hated hated hated hated it.

later, when dinner time comes, lucerys begs cregan to sit by his left side, jutting his lips out and everything. aemond looks at lucerys’ pout from the other side of the table and feels his teeth clank in irritation. 

he forces himself to eat, trying to diminish his discomfort and willing himself to stay put with the promise of flying to his rooms as soon as dinner is over. 

he’s doing a pretty decent job at it when lucerys’ excited voice resonates over the clinking of the glasses and cutlery and the uninteresting conversation of adults.

“cregan explained a lot of things about the north today!” lucerys chirps animatedly at Rhaneyra, who sits by the boy’s other side cooing at him. “he is so smart, mother! he’s even smarter than aemond!”

aemond cannot stomach any more bite, nor he can stomach the words. 

cregan grins at lucerys and ruffles his curls with affection, and that’s all he needed.

he excuses himself under the pretence of being sick and slams the doors to his chambers after him. 

#another window to my fic #ughughugh this took me so much time to write #like my skills are nonexistent right now #but this scene wasn't letting me sleep #aemond bby you're just jealous but don't worry lucerys is yours #writing aemond's perspective is so difficult and i'm terrible at it <3 #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #lucemond #lucerys x aemond #ship: lucemond #ship: fated feud #cregan stark #my writing: lucemond #hotd

[direful]

I REFUSE to get art block right now.

#I feel so shitty and dissatisfied with my art right now I CANNOT stagnate i need to break through this #my passions are basically nonexistent though so we’ll see what I actually end up making (if anything) #idk I haven’t done fanart in a long time and I pretty much just draw busts of my ocs #I don’t even do anything dynamic or conceptual or even make like. illustrations you know #I did ONE recently after YEARS of nothing. idk I just feel totally stagnant and like my skills and style are nowhere near wh #where I’d like them to be. all I draw is my dnd characters and let’s be real no one cares #hurgle hurgle

[genderqueerdykes]

small observations for people who are just starting testosterone HRT

If you suffer from chronic fatigue, chronic illness, or mental illness, you may notice that your energy levels dip down very low after first starting T. this is due your body needing extra energy to process the extra hormones, not anything long lasting. after your body adjusts, this fatigue will go away, and you may actually find that you have way, way more energy now

Beards love to be patchy and mustaches love to be invisible or nonexistent at first. if your beard is patchy at first, or if you just can't grow a full mustache, this is also normal. it can take years of testosterone HRT for beards to become full, especially if you had low T to begin with. moisturizing your beard regularly can help reduce this, and also any potential itchiness from being too long. beards will get itchy for many if they get long.

The acne (should) go away after your body adjusts, and you will not be greasy forever. you will find that your natural body odor smells different, though. this lasts as long as you are on T, as far as i'm aware for most people, but it's only noticeable for me when i get very sweaty after a lot of exertion, or illness.

You may find after you adjust that you have generally a bit more stamina or ease with starting up or adjusting to new physical activities after you've adjusted. it may be easier for you to work out now because you don't become fatigued as easy, for example, or you may find it is easier for you to put on muscle density.

The mood swings will calm down in time- they are most severe right after you start T, and then taper down as your body adjusts. it doesn't turn you into a "rage monster". you just go through normal pubescent moodiness. it's manageable, especially if you have good coping skills like physical activity, journaling, or art while stressed.

Libido goes either way, i've noticed. many people see a huge spike in libido at first, sometimes it stays for a long time, other people don't notice any change whatsoever. also, T for most people will not change what gender or type of person you are attracted to, however it can change how you view yourself in relationships and lead you to changing your identity labels, or questioning things. it generally doesn't make people change their identities overnight, though

Periods do stop for the vast majority of transmascs. it can take a long time, but they do stop if your doseage of T is right for you. if yours haven't stopped and you do not have reproductive health issues, you likely just need a higher dose to see this effect.

Breast tissue reduces in density when higher levels of testosterone are in the body, so it is very likely that you will see your breasts become flatter or even "Deflate" a bit. this is entirely normal. my chest has been like this my entire life due to very high T from hyperandrogenism & intersexuality

Balding can definitely happen, but this is generally only if you have a genetic predisposition to it. i have actually not seen many transmascs bald, although for many of us, our hairlines do shift upwards, but it's not noticeable unless you compare how you look now to older pics of yourself, and generally it takes years for your hairline to migrate anyway, which is natural for AMAB people later in life anyway. even if you do bald, you can speak with your prescriber and have access to medications to help with balding. it's not the end of the road and many respond very well to medication.

#trans #transgender #ftm #transmasculine #transmasc #trans man #trans men #trans boy #trans boys #trans guy #genderqueer #bigender #multigender #demiboy #genderfluid #maverique #enby #nonbinary #non binary #transsexual #testosterone hrt #testosterone #hrt #hormone replacement therapy #hormones #our writing

[dixons-sunshine]

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: While hanging out with Daryl, an old friend decided to pay you an unexpected visit. Not wanting to cut your visit short, Daryl offers to tag along to the supermarket. You agree, which lead to the funniest but best shopping experience of your life. And the hangout afterwards turned into a night you'd never forget.

Genre: Fluff, some angst (mentions of Daryl's dad and his scars—reader knows about his home life.)

Era: Pre outbreak

Warnings: Swearing, blood (from reader's period), mentions of abuse, mentions of Merle being an asshole to reader and Daryl, allusions to money problems (reader chooses the cheapest foods while in the store and lives in a trailer park), reader's mom is implied to be a single parent.

Word count: 4.6k (this got way longer than I expected)

A/n: Honestly my second favourite story I've written. It's not great, but I loved the concept very much and writing about Daryl before the apocalypse turned out to be so much fun! I definitely need to write more about pre-apocalypse Daryl.

Requests are open for any TWD requests if y'all wanna send any!

Part two

—

“I'm telling you, you're overreacting. How was I supposed to know that it was gonna go flying in your direction?”

“It wasn't even supposed to go flyin' like tha' in the first place. I've been tryin' to teach ya to fish fer months now, but yer hopeless. Stick to buyin' fish from the market fer yer safety and mine.”

You threw one of the pillows on the couch you were sitting on in his direction, trying to look offended but failing miserably due to the burst of laughter falling from your lips. Daryl easily caught the pillow and chuckled, a boyish grin on his face. He flopped down next to you on the couch, keeping the pillow on his lap as he watched you trying to calm your laughter.

“You're mean, you know that? I'm not hopeless, fishing is just hard,” you said with a smile, looking at him through your eyelashes.

The smile you wore and the sparkle in your eyes made Daryl's heart skip a beat. His mouth suddenly felt dry and he felt an overwhelming urge to close the distance between the two of you—and urge he's had for months now—but he refrained, his father's deprecating words about his 'nonexistent' worth echoing in the back of his mind.

Daryl shook the thoughts from his mind and focused back on you, your smile he loved so much still gracing your features. “Nah, it ain't tha' hard,” he replied, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“Says the fish whisperer,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest in mock anger, but the huge smile on your face ruined your facade.

Daryl couldn't help the amused laugh that escaped his mouth. “Fish whisperer?” he asked, a crooked smile on his face as he looked at you. “Tha's what yer callin' me?”

“Yeah, you're a fish whisperer. Every time I try to catch a fish, you lean down to the water and tell the fish to be difficult so that I can't catch them and you get the satisfaction of watching me fail. I've got you all figured out, Dixon,” you joked, a teasing grin on your face.

Daryl shook his head at your ‘accusation’ and chuckled. “Ya got me,” he responded. “Sorry ya had to find out like this. The fish and I jus' have this unspoken bond, ya know? They do whatever I tell 'em to.”

“I knew it,” you replied playfully, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Apologise right now.”

“'M sorry,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I'll talk to the fish and get them to go easier on ya.”

“Thank you,” you laughed in playful triumph.

“Yer welcome,” he replied with a shake of his head, the crooked smile still on his face. “Now are we gonna watch tha' movie ya promised or are we jus' gonna go back and forth over your lack of fishin' skills?”

“Yeah, I just gotta use the bathroom really quick. You can pick out a movie in the meantime,” you acknowledged, getting up from the couch once you saw Daryl nod.

You headed into the bathroom of your small trailer home and closed the door, heading towards the toilet to tend to your business. However, as soon as you sat down, you saw blotches of blood on the inside of your underwear. You groaned inwardly at the horrible timing of your period's arrival and reached for the box of tampons you kept located near the toilet. However, as soon as you opened the box, you audibly groaned at the sight of only one tampon remaining. You didn't have any pads either due to your mom having used the last one a week prior, so you'd have to make a run to the store.

You finished your business, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear from the laundry basket you had yet to take back to your room as well as a pair of pants, before going back out to Daryl. He patiently waited for you on the couch, the movie he picked out paused and waiting to be watched. He fiddled with the remote in his hands before looking up at you when he heard your approaching footsteps. He gave you a small smile before frowning, instantly noticing the ashamed look on your face.

“Wha's wrong?” he questioned, getting up from the couch and taking a step towards you.

“Nothing! It's nothing, I just...” you trailed off, unsure how to go about telling Daryl about why you needed to cut the visit short.

“Ya jus' wha'?” he asked anxiously, unnerved by your sudden awkwardness. You were never nervous around him, so the sudden awkwardness baffled him.

“I have to go into town. I need something urgently and it can't really wait. I'm sorry,” you apologized sincerely, your tone holding sadness at the prospect of the visit you had to cut short.

Daryl's heart sank at your words. He enjoyed hanging out with you and really didn't want to go home yet. He was sure his dad wasn't passed out from drinking yet and he didn't want to accidentally set him off into another rage and deeply pay the price for it, so he wanted to wait it out here with you. But now he most likely wouldn't be able to.

“Wha' do ya need?” he asked, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

You hesitated for a moment. You liked Daryl, and not just platonically, either. Despite his rough exterior, he was undeniably sweet, kind, caring, affectionate and so much more. He knew how to make you laugh even if he preferred to be serious most of the time and he always treated you with the utmost respect. But you also knew that both his brother and his father were misogynistic pricks. They didn't know the first thing about women and feminine needs, so they definitely didn't teach Daryl about any of that. You didn't want Daryl to look at you differently or be grossed out by you because of your period. You wouldn't be able to handle that.

“Hey, ya alrigh'?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. His eyebrows were furrowed in a deep frown, his eyes flickering between your eyes in concern.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I'm fine. I just zoned out for a second.”

“Ya didn't answer my question from before. Wha' do ya need in town?” he repeated his question.

You swallowed nervously before sighing. “I'm on my period,” you whispered, heat creeping up to your face. “And I'm out of tampons.”

Realisation struck Daryl like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” he mumbled, awkwardly fiddling with his hands.

In all honesty, Daryl wasn't weirded out by you saying that, but he didn't know how to go about the information you gave him. He only had the tiniest grain of knowledge about women's periods—thanks to the many women his dad brought home—but he knew that freaking out about it wasn't the way to go. You were one of the most important people in the world to him, and by god he would do anything to ensure that you knew that you could go to him whenever you needed anything, even for something like you needing period products.

“Ya want me to give ya a ride to the store?” he asked, completely taking you by surprise.

“No, I don't want to trouble you. I'll just walk,” you declined his offer, nervously hugging yourself in an attempt to appear nonchalant and simultaneously ward off the pain that would soon stab through your lower abdomen.

“I ain't lettin' ya walk, especially this close to dark. God knows what trouble is waitin' if ya set foot outside this trailer park alone. Tha' new motorcycle gang likes to hang 'round here and I dun' want them to get any ideas with ya,” Daryl replied steadfastly, his mind already set on escorting you to the store.

You smiled at Daryl's worry towards you. It was rare to see his softer side, but when you did, you always cherished it. Daryl Dixon truly was unlike any man you've ever met.

“Fine,” you relented, your voice adapting the playful tone from earlier. “You can drive me, but just so you know, I'm taking advantage of your hospitality. I need to buy some groceries anyways, but I never got around to it because it would be too much to carry if I walked.”

Daryl's lips twitched up into a half smile and nodded. “Alrigh',” he agreed. “But yer buyin' me a Coke fer my valiant efforts of simply drivin' ya to the store.”

“Deal,” you laughed lightly, unaware of the effect it had on Daryl. His heart quickened at the sweet sound of your melodic laughter and he had to duck his head to hide the blush that formed on his face.

“Let's go.” He motioned for you to follow him and you obliged after grabbing the grocery list, following him out of your trailer and over to his neighbouring trailer. The two of you quietly made your way over to his beat down truck, a vehicle he was 'graciously' being lent by his older brother. Or as Daryl once told you, Merle simply dropped it off one day after getting his motorcycle and just seemed to forget about its existence. So now the truck unofficially belonged to the younger Dixon brother.

You opened the passenger side of the vehicle and got in, closing the door behind you. Daryl got into the driver's side and started the truck, his eyes glancing around at the wrappers and few empty cigarette boxes that littered the floor. “Sorry 'bout the mess.”

“It's fine,” you reassured him. “It certainly doesn't look worse than my trailer when my mom and I have been too lazy to clean up.”

Daryl quietly nodded and started the drive to the store, pulling out of the trailer park. The drive was mostly spent in silence until about five minutes in when a bunch of motorcycles whirled past the truck in the opposite direction. Daryl visibly stiffened after one particular motorcycle drove past and you frowned, placing your hand on his arm to try and ease his tension. At the unexpected action, Daryl tensed slightly but soon relaxed under your tender touch.

“Who was it? The guy on the motorcycle? You seem to know him,” you questioned, earning a disgruntled sigh in response.

“'S my brother,” he responded after a moment's hesitation. “He's back in town fer a while but I dun' know why. He hasn't bothered to come see me.”

“Merle's back?” you asked, trying to keep the distaste out of your voice, but failing miserably, causing a small smile to fall on Daryl's face.

It was no secret to Daryl that you despised his brother. The few limited interactions you had with the man were enough to fuel your distaste. Merle either made sexual passes at you, insulted you or questioned your intentions with Daryl. When you didn't fall for his advances or insults, he'd take a jab at your friendship with his younger brother, claiming that Daryl was "pussy whipped" and that you were taking advantage of him. Daryl always immediately shut him down, but that never stopped Merle. Each time it took walking back into your trailer to get the man to shut up.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I think he joined tha' new motorcycle gang. He's a stupid son of a bitch, my brother. Never learns his lesson, but wha' can I do? He ain't ever gonna listen to me.”

“He's a grown man. He'll hopefully learn from his mistakes,” you started, knowing your words probably weren't much comfort for him right now. “If you want, I can punch some sense into him. I've been wanting to punch him for a while now.”

That seemed to lighten Daryl's mood a bit. His lips twitched into a half smile. “Nah, but thanks fer the kind offer. I'll let ya know if I ever need ya to punch him fer me.”

“Please do. I'll practice and everything,” you joked, playfully punching the air in front of you for added effect, eliciting a small chuckle from him.

“Alrigh', Bruce Lee, we're here,” he laughed quietly, parking the car outside the store.

The two of you got out of the truck and moved to the store. Once inside, Daryl grabbed a shopping cart and leaned his arms on the handle bar, looking at you expectantly. “Where to first, boss lady?”

You giggled and took the grocery list from the back pocket of your jeans, unfolding the paper and starting your list. “We'll come back to the period things later. Let's get the necessities out of the way first.”

Daryl pushed the cart as he followed behind you, walking into one of the grocery aisles. “Tampons ain't a necessity?” he asked, curiously watching you search for the cheapest pasta before adding it to the cart.

You shrugged and walked on, hearing the squeaks from the wheels on the cart following closely behind. “It is, but not before food. I can always improvise or ask one of the neighbour ladies for it, but I don't want to ask for food.”

Daryl nodded, although you couldn't see him. “Yeah, tha's understandable,” he said, his eyes scanning over the products in the aisle.

You continued grabbing things on your list, adding them to the cart. You even grabbed two bags of chips and the Coke you promised Daryl, as well as a drink for yourself. After that, you made your way over to the feminine hygiene section and started looking over the various different choices, searching for your preferred items.

“Wha' the fuck?” you heard Daryl whisper behind you, prompting you to turn around and look at him. You giggled at the sight in front of you; Daryl holding a pack of pads whilst his eyes trailed over the different period products, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What?” you asked with a giggle, gaining Daryl's attention.

“Why the hell do y'all need so many different things fer yer pussy blood?” he asked bluntly, eliciting an amused laugh from you.

“First of all, don't call it pussy blood. That's disgusting. Second of all, it's all about preference. Some women prefer pads, others prefer tampons and other things. And not everyone is the same. Some women have heavier flows and some women need bigger tampons and pads than others,” you explained, amused at the deep frown Daryl wore.

Daryl nodded slowly. “Alrigh',” he started. “But still, it's a lot. Tampons, pads... And wha' the hell is a fuckin' diva cup? Y'all use tha' to make tea fer yer pussies or somethin'?”

“No,” you responded, laughing lightly at the confused man. “I don't know how a diva cup works because I've never used one, but it's for our periods. Like I said, preference. Some women prefer diva cups over pads and tampons.”

Daryl shook his head slightly and turned away from the shelves, focusing his eyes back on you. “Well, ya got whatever pads or tampons ya prefer? Or do ya use somethin' else that wasn't named in yer explanation?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, amused. You grabbed a box of tampons, as well as a box of pads, and added them to the cart. “No, I use pads and tampons, don't worry.”

“Why would I worry?” Daryl asked, pushing the cart as the two of you walked over to pay for the groceries.

“I just meant that you didn't have to worry about there being any more "period product" surprises. I don't think you would've been able to handle it if I told you there was more,” you explained.

“Well... 'S there?” he asked hesitantly, chewing on his lower lip.

“Yeah.”

You walked ahead to the checkout aisle, leaving Daryl baffled behind you. He sped up to catch up to you, and together you started unloading the items.

“This was more than I bargained fer when I offered to come to the store with ya,” Daryl said, handing off items to be scanned.

“I said I would walk,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “Would've spared you the headache you got from looking at all those different brands and stuff.”

“Nah, I'd take the headache over somethin' happenin' to ya. Walkin' alone ain't safe,” he retorted, giving you a stern look.

“I would've been fine.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn't risk it. Still ain't gonna risk it.”

“Ah, young love,” the lady working at the cash register interrupted, startling both you and Daryl. “You two lovebirds are absolutely adorable.”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment, a blush spreading across his face. You could feel your own face flush with heat as well.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, handing the owed amount over to the cashier before moving over to grab a few bags.

Daryl followed your lead and grabbed most of the bags. Together the two of you walked out of the store and over to his truck. You placed the bags in the back of the truck before getting into the passenger side, Daryl getting into the driver's side. He silently started up the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot, starting the drive back to the trailer park.

“Thank you, by the way,” you said after a few minutes of silence, shifting Daryl's attention to you.

“Fer wha'?” he asked in confusion, shifting his eyes from the road to you and then back again.

“The ride. And for making me laugh. It was nice.”

“My confusion was amusin' to ya?” he asked with a small smile, glancing over to you.

“No, but the things you said were. Especially the thing about the diva cup. Comedy gold right there,” you said with a smile, gaining a quiet chuckle in return.

“Glad I could make ya laugh,” he replied, before a look of realisation crossed his face. “Wait, ain't ya supposed to be in pain? From wha' I know, period's are supposed to hurt.”

At his words, realisation dawned on you. You could suddenly feel a dull ache in your lower abdomen, a telltale sign of a greater pain awaiting you in a few hours. You just hoped that you had some ibuprofen left back at home.

“I'm fine for now,” you reassured him. “The pain's manageable.”

Daryl nodded. The rest of the drive was spent in silence, save for the rumble of the engine and the wind coming through the open windows. You stared outside at the rising moon, the stars starting to light up the approaching night sky. The trailer park soon came into view and Daryl pulled up to your trailer instead of his, putting the vehicle into park. However, instead of getting out, Daryl tensed up as he stared ahead at his trailer.

You followed his line of sight and saw what he was looking at; his father leading a woman into the trailer. His father shut the door behind him, effectively cutting off your line of sight. You turned to Daryl and saw his jaw clenched in anger, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his mind seemed to be in another place. You doubted that Daryl even remembered you were still in the truck with him.

“You can stay over if you want,” you said quietly, snapping Daryl from his wandering thoughts. “My mom's working the night shift down at the bar. I've got the trailer to myself tonight and I wouldn't mind having some company.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment. “Ya sure? I can go home. Doubt the old man would notice me slippin' in anyway.”

You nodded your head at him. “I'm sure. Come on.”

Daryl followed you from the truck and into your trailer, carrying most of the bags so that you could unlock the door. Once you were inside and he placed the bags down, he silently admired you as you grabbed a bowl to pour the bought chips into.

Daryl appreciated the fact that you never pried. He had told you once about his father and what he did to him because you'd accidentally caught sight of one of the scars on his back. However, instead of pity, you offered him comfort and understanding, telling him that you were there if he ever needed to talk to someone or needed an escape. You never brought up his home life or his scars, and only ever talked about it if he initiated the sensitive conversation first, which was rare. Because of that, Daryl was convinced that you were an angel in human form. You understood him in a way nobody did, and he would forever be grateful for the chance he got to know you.

You could feel Daryl's intense gaze on you and you could feel your face heat up. Daring to be confident for a moment, you glanced up and locked eyes with him. “See something you like?”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed in agreement, completely capturing you off guard. You inhaled sharply and tried to slow your racing heart.

Daryl inwardly cursed himself. He hadn't meant to let that slip, but he had gotten so lost in his thoughts and admiration of you that he acted before properly thinking. He blushed for what felt like the thousandth time that day and ducked his head, finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden.

“Well,” you started after clearing your throat, grabbing the bowl of chips and the drinks you bought for you both and walking the short distance into the living room, Daryl hot on your tail. “I'm glad you enjoyed the view. It's my "I desperately need to wash my hair" look.”

Daryl chuckled but said nothing. He got comfortable on the couch, sitting beside you as you handed him the Coke you promised him. “Thanks,” he said, nudging his nose up at you in a nod. “How's yer stomach?”

“Surprisingly okay. I guess the pain decided to give me a break for now. I probably won't be so lucky tomorrow, though,” you responded.

You grabbed the remote and hit play on the movie that Daryl had picked out earlier before you went into town, the opening sequence playing loudly. However, about ten minutes into the movie, Daryl took the remote from you and paused it again, confusing you.

“Can I ask ya somethin'?” he asked unexpectedly, his face conveying how nervous he was.

“Of course,” you replied without hesitation, shifting on the couch until your body completely faced him.

“I dun'... I dun' really know how to ask ya this, and I really hope this won't ruin anythin' between us, but I need to know if ya feel the same,” Daryl nervously said, fiddling with his hands in his lap.

“Daryl, what-”

“Nah, let me finish, please. 'S jus'... Yer so perfect to me, y'know tha'? Yer so kind, so carin', so affectionate. Yer basically a ray of sunshine. Yer the complete opposite of me, and ya could spend yer time with someone who deserves ya, but ya choose to hang out with me. Even though 'm damaged goods and I ain't gonna be nothin' more than a dumb, redneck scum, ya always treat me like 'm this fine piece of priceless art or somethin', and I dun' get why. Yer-”

The sudden pressure of your lips against his instantly shut him up. His eyes widened for a moment before he closed them, his hands instinctively going to rest on your waist. The kiss was slow and hesitant, but loving and sweet at the same time. It was perfect and neither of you wanted it to end, but you soon pulled away, looking into Daryl's ocean coloured eyes.

“You're not damaged goods and you're not a dumb, redneck scum. Don't ever say that about yourself again, you hear me?” you told him quietly, your hands gently resting on his cheeks. After he nodded, you continued. “Where's all of this coming from? I'm not complaining at all, but it's kind of unexpected.”

“I've felt this way fer a while now,” he explained, taking one of your hands off of his face and playing with your fingers. “I never said anythin' because I didn't want to scare ya off, but after tha' lady called us 'lovebirds' and ya offered to let me stay over without question after ya saw my expression earlier... I dun' know, I guess I jus' needed to let ya know how I felt. Didn't know if ya'd feel the same, though.”

You smiled at him and leaned forward to press another kiss to his lips, this one more firm and sure than the first one. “I do feel the same,” you confirmed after you pulled away. “I just never thought you'd like me.”

“Guess we both wasted time not sayin' anythin' 'til now, huh?” he asked, giving you a boyish smile.

“Definitely,” you nodded in agreement, a huge smile on your face.

“I guess we have to thank yer time of the month fer this happenin',” Daryl said. “If it didn't start and we didn't go to the store, tha' lady never would've called us 'lovebirds' and we never would've seen my father and tha' woman enterin' the trailer, so ya wouldn't have asked me to stay over. I probably would've gone home by now if we didn't have to go to the store and probably would've never gotten the balls to say anythin'.”

“I never thought I would be this grateful for my period, but I am now,” you said, leaning your forehead against his.

Daryl closed the remaining gap between the two of you, the two of you descending into a slow, hungry kiss. You brought your arms around his neck and his arms encircled around your waist, bringing you closer into his arms. As the two of you got lost in the moment, you didn't hear the trailer door opening, too caught up in each other to hear anything else. However, the clearing of someone's throat startled you, the two of you practically jumping apart.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” your mom asked with a raised eyebrow, her hands on her hips as she looked over the two of you.

You looked over at Daryl, your face flaming with heat at being caught by your mom. Daryl's eyes widened as fear crossed his face, his breathing heavy from your previous actions. You turned your attention back to your mom and sighed.

“Mom, don't freak out. I promise I can explain.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER EIGHT: LOML

AND I'LL STILL SEE IT, UNTIL I DIE - YOU'RE THE LOSS OF MY LIFE.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, consumption of alcohol, (overly poetic) smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, technically unprotected sex even after the idiots discussed protection, minors dni

☆ WC: 3.9K+

☆ A/N: extremely sorry for the shortest chapter in this series yet. also, out of all the songs referenced for the title of chapters, this one might be the most on the nose. i kid you not, i cannot explain how perfectly loml encapsulates reader/sugar's emotions during this chapter. if you'd like the extra hurt, 10/10 recommends listening as you read. :)

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

 “Can I kiss you, Sugar?” 

You’ve made your fair share of dumb decisions in your life. Plenty of moments have slipped right between your fingers due to hesitation that you’d later regret, you have a catalog of embarrassing encounters to serve you a lifetime. You’ve said yes when your answer should have been a resounding no, you’ve made promises you knew were impossible to keep, and you’ve always had an unexplainable habit of digging yourself into graves that will surely bury you alive. 

This moment is no different. 

The correct reaction is to tell him no, to push him away and end the night here. You should leave before either of you make any mistakes and ruin whatever fragile thing resides between the two of you any further. There’s a million other options you should be taking, but at the end of the day, you still nod your head. 

Not even a second later, Eddie’s lips are on yours, and it’s hard to call it a mistake when it’s the first time you’ve felt like you could properly breathe in two years. 

He tastes like bourbon, and mistakes, and regret, and a youthful type of love impossible to grasp onto. A vague memory you never get to hold, but always learn to miss. When his hands travel slowly to your hips, you’re only pressing closer, deepening the kiss with the desperation of someone starved. Someone stained. 

You were an idiot to think it wouldn’t end this way. You were in his apartment, and you were drunk. You were brimming with bad decisions. It was always going to end up this way. 

Your knees somehow end up digging into the sofa cushions on either side of his hips, your recollection of how you climbed into his lap nonexistent. Had it been his doing, his own needy hands guiding you here? Or had it been you? You, with an ache that rang throughout your entire body, soothed only by sharing each of his breaths with him when he finally pulls back from the kiss. 

“Are you sure you want thi-”

“Don’t ruin it,” you beg, silencing him as you look into those deep autumn eyes, memorizing rivets of soft auburn that never really changed. An ever changing kaleidoscope, but there were simply parts of Eddie he’d never be able to hide from you,to change, “Not yet. Please.”

You don’t know if you’ll want it come morning. You can’t estimate just how deeply the regret will burrow once it’s all said and done; you’re not in the mood to think sensibly. No hypotheticals, no curiosity for the future. 

You just want him. Right here, right now. Far beyond just sex, and far beyond casual touches. But it’s the only way you can have him, the only way he can have you, for now. 

His fingers are more skilled these days. More deft and nimble as they race up and down your sides, quickly undoing the button of your jeans and easily sneaking beneath your shirt. Two years could be two seconds with the way he still knows you and your body, knowing exactly where to apply more pressure as he plucks on every string beneath your skin that makes you sing out for him. Hums, gasps, moans – they all sort of blend together at some point, don’t they? 

“I’ve missed you,” you swear you hear him mumble against the skin of your neck when his mouth begins to wander, “I’ve missed this.” 

You convince yourself he didn’t say it just to avoid ripping yourself apart any further.  

Instead, you busy your mouth with kissing him harder, faster, more desperately. You’re all but burying yourself in him. Your hips grinding against his, your lips swallowed in his, your hands finding themselves tangled in his hair. 

You’re drunk enough that you convince yourself that this is it – this is home. 

It feels natural to let him run you down this way. It’s instinctual as he takes his shirt off and your hands roam over bare skin that whispers with the ridges of paths you’ve traced before. You know that scar on his right hip from when he got his appendix removed as a child, you know that lightened patch of skin on his left thumb from when he’d managed to burn himself with a lighter while cutting class one day with you. You know him – so much better than you’d let yourself believe these last few weeks. 

“Do you have a condom?” you pant, and you both pretend like your words are choked up from gasping to recover the air you’d offered to the kiss, and not the emotions rearing their ugly heads. 

He does. Of course he does. He’s a rockstar now – he has women throwing themselves at him constantly. Of course he’s prepared. 

It happens somewhere between him pulling the condom out of his wallet, and managing to pull his own shirt off. At some point in which you’re left in nothing but your undergarments, hips grinding down on his in sloppy circles, he lets out a low and drawn out moan. All your movements stutter, nearly halting, as that sound rings out around you. You swear, it echoes off the walls of your own head and not the eerily empty apartment. 

You break as you gasp out, “Fuck, Eddie.” 

Another dumb decision for the books. All it takes is you sighing his name for him to flip the entire script. Suddenly, you’re no longer straddling his lap, no longer biting his lip and gripping onto the back of the sofa for balance. 

Your back collides with the cushions below and he hovers over you, kissing with more intent and purpose this time. Each press of his lips is followed by the nipping of teeth, desperately trying to mark you up along your chest, completely oblivious to the way he’s already left his stain. 

You’re convinced if he presses his lips just hard enough, if he bares his teeth just sharp enough, he’ll see right through you. Your skin will become all but cellophane and he’ll see all those blooming violets and deep maroons still left behind in the shape of his mouth. He’ll see the way another has never followed these paths, not after him. 

All the failed rebounds, all the failed distractions. There’s never been another person capable of taking your mind off of Eddie Munson. No one’s kiss ever made you bleed the way he’s capable, no one’s touch could ever erase the mark of his. 

The wine still makes your head swim as your chin tilts to the roof, giving him all the room possible to paint whatever picture he’s vying for on your skin. You let him leave his physical mark; you let him leave a physical reminder of something to regret. 

“Do you know how many times I played this moment back over in my head?” his voice is a murmur that vibrates against your sternum, words not quite slurring, “Do you know how many times I swore-”

You don’t know – and you never find out what exactly he had sworn time and time again as the trill ringing of a cell phone shatters the entire atmosphere. 

One moment, Eddie’s lips are painting portraits along your chest and neck, the acceptance of making a mistake settling deep into your bones. And the next, he’s lifting up, looking wildly towards his kitchen, where you’re sure that it’s his phone buzzing erratically on the counter. 

“I-” he looks wildly between you and the distant phone, pupils blown out and lips swollen, “Fuck, I-”

All the air leaves your lungs.

There will be no mistakes tonight. 

“Go answer it,” you whisper, deflating as you accept the interruption. The moment’s over, fading in between the lipstick marks on your wine glass and the glow of the lamps scattered throughout his living room, “It’s fine.” 

It’s not fine. It’s written plainly across his face that this is the furthest thing from fine at this moment. But duty calls; his phone is ringing, your mind is buzzing, and the moment is simply gone. 

It has to be fine. You have to be fine with it. 

“I’ll be right back,” he swears as he lifts himself up off the couch, but you know he won’t be. 

Your shirt is already back by the time he’s reached the counter, laptop already tucked safely back into your bag as he answers the call. 

“Hello?” he asks, eyes flitting over to you as he watches you gather your things, picking up the wine glass that had been yours the entire night in order to carry it over to the sink he leans against the counter next to. A bit of chatter comes from over the line, and Eddie’s entire face twists, “Am I busy? Yeah, yeah – as a matter of fact, I am.” 

Just as you sit the glass into the sink, you bring a hand to his bicep, letting it rest there selfishly. Feeling his bare skin one final time, drinking in the heat he radiates through your palm, giving yourself one last chance to memorize it. 

You’re not busy, you mouth to him with a sad smile. 

He’s not. Because there will be no mistakes tonight. 

You go to pull your hand away, prepared to somehow call an Uber or taxi, but he’s quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist just as your skin slides from his. It’s not forceful, but simply firm. Clinging with a desperation you can’t recognize. 

Stay, he mouths back, the person over the line clearly continuing to speak without Eddie paying them any mind.

You almost do. You falter and consider dropping your bag then and there. You nearly stay, wait out the phone call, sit pretty and patient until he returns to you just as he had promised. 

But he had left you with a promise of later once before, and he hadn’t kept his promise then. 

“Oh,” you whispered, disappointment gripping your lungs, “Oh, that’s fine! Go, they need you.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. You missed hearing that in person, that soft laughter in the shell of your ear over inside jokes and one too many glasses of wine. “Rockstar duties and all. We’ll talk more later?”

Later had never found its way back to the two of you all those years ago – why would it now? 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eds,” you whisper, soft enough to guarantee whoever was on the other side of the phone call wouldn’t hear you. The fall of his face is almost enough to make you take back the words and swallow them back down. 

“Wait-” he’s not whispering, almost as though he’s forgotten about the call entirely. You can hear the silence over the line, probably in confusion, as you walk away, “Wait- No- I-”

You motion to the phone still pressed to his ear and cheek, trying to remind him that someone else can hear. 

He removes it and ends the call before you can protest.

“Eddie-” you start to scold, but he refuses to hear any of it. 

“No, no,” he sounds as though he might be begging. And you can’t tell if he’s begging you to not reprimand him, or if he’s begging you to not leave, “I don’t care. It was just Matt, he can wait till morning.” 

It doesn’t answer the question of what he wanted from you. 

“It’s getting late, anyways,” you’re still trying to detect your escape route, the longer you spend in the aftermath making your chest tighten more and more.

You can’t do this. 

You can’t stand in this room with him and pretend that it’s all okay. You can’t act as though the wine’s effects are slipping away from you and you can’t brush off the feeling of his lips across your chest. You have no patience left to act as though your lungs aren’t shriveling up in your chest, unable to get enough air when he’s too close all while being all too far away. 

It would have been a mistake, and you’re both better for the interruption. 

Eddie shakes his head, letting out a dry laugh, “We aren’t doing this again, Sugar. We aren’t going to just pretend that didn’t happen-”

“Why not?” you challenge him, “This… it’s better this way, Eddie. If we kept it up, we both would have regretted it, and it’d just be another mistake-”

“Who’s we?” he cuts you off. 

We. You, me, both of us. We’d both regret it, wouldn’t we? 

But you still didn’t regret kissing him. You still didn’t regret sitting in his lap and drinking him in, you still wouldn’t take back whatever moment was shared prior to the phone’s interruption. 

All your regrets are spoken in future tense. All the mistakes are somewhere ahead of you, your mind running to things that haven’t happened yet.

How do you know if you’d regret it? How do you know if he’d regret it?

Your hold on your bag begins to loosen, “I- Both of us. We’d both regret it.” 

“I wouldn’t regret it. I don’t think I could ever regret you.” 

This is the part you walk away. You sling your bag onto your shoulder, you tell him to have a goodnight, and you leave. You’ll see him tomorrow, and you’ll pretend this conversation never happened. 

Except you don’t.

Your bag falls to the ground, a muted crash that probably pisses off his downstairs neighbors. The toes of your shoes knock into the worn bag, kicking it to the side with more gentleness than you should be capable of right now. When he reaches out a hand to hold you, you take it. 

You let him get his hot palms back on your body. You let his lips find their way back to yours. 

You finally just let the mistake happen and take the chance on finding out if the regret is nothing more than shadows in the closet, make-believe once you turn the light back on. 

The couch isn’t the destination this time. You’re almost sad that you don’t get to admire any of his decor as he drags you down the hallway, but you also doubt there’s even a sliver of the ghost of the man holding onto you in any of it. He’s not on the walls, he’s not in the pictures; he’s right in front of you, kissing you heavily and desperately, letting his feet stumble right over yours as he finally reaches blindly for the knob of the door behind you. He’s in the rings pressing into the skin of your hips and he’s in the wavering cologne that bursts from his sheets as he carefully drops you back on a bed far too large for one man. 

He’s in the shadow hovering over you, he’s in the slide of his leg as he spreads your thighs to find home between them. He may not haunt this apartment, but he haunts you. Your body, your mind, your senses. 

Always have, always will. 

Alcohol isn’t clouding the moment anymore as each kiss is gentler, retracing the bruises already forming across your collar bones. He’s taking his time, enjoying himself, no longer rushing through the process of getting to know you again. The loss of your shirt and the unbuttoning of your jeans is done with shaking hands this time. Less sure, but far more determined. 

Your own hands are steady, though, as you undress him. You’re sure. This is your mistake to make, your mistake to regret. And maybe he had a point – maybe it is impossible for either of you to regret each other. For all the tears shed and all the nights spent cursing his name, it’s never once crossed your tongue that you wanted to erase him. You think if someone were to try and take him, take all that you two had shared together from you, that they’d be met with white knuckles and deathly screams. A rancid animal foaming at the mouth, refusing to let go of the one thing it had ever managed to sink its claws into. 

You’d forgotten just how well you know him. 

It was beyond superficial scars and childhood stories. You still remember the exact pulse point that makes him moan out with just a brush of your mouth against it. You can still find that spot above his hips that spasm when your hands grip them, encouraging him to grind down onto you. You know his body, you know his past, you know his mind. 

Words are no longer necessary as it finally happens. 

Prayers of each other’s name, ignorance in the way this entire moment was becoming too gentle for two fools rekindling. A practiced dance you once only ever dreamt of swaying to with him. 

You would have given him everything. You did give him everything. Your youth, your future, your aspirations, your daydreams of a glittering gem on your sacred finger and a list of baby names the two of you had argued over endlessly. All those things still belong to him, even now. Even as this new version of him hovers over you, lips trailing with purpose over your abdomen, making his way down to your core. 

You can’t tell if he’s a stranger when he places a hot kiss over the cotton of your underwear. You can’t tell if you ever spent two years away from him as his hands hold down your hips when they buck in response. 

“Eddie,” you beg, fingers lacing into his curls just as they had earlier, gripping onto him for dear life. You’re looking down at him between your thighs, refusing to blink on the off chance that he’ll simply vanish when you do, “Please.” 

“Please what, Sugar?” 

“Touch me,” you gasp out as his fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear, colossus course against soft skin, “Kiss me, fuck me- I just-” 

No further explanation is needed. Your wish is his command. 

Your panties are tossed to the hardwood floor at the edge of the bed as if they always belonged there. His mouth ravishes you as if this was just a nightly routine between the two of you. As if he didn’t have to second think what pace you might prefer, or when to add the first finger. Or the second. He plays you beautifully, crooking his fingers and nipping at sensitive skins and nerves alike, listening to the way you only seem to remember his name. Like you don’t remember the sound of a dial tone instead of declarations of adoration, like you don’t remember the excuses for him denying you all his attention. 

You wish you could just stay in this moment forever. Him, buried between your thighs. All hurt and all stains forgotten when he builds you up to the edge, when he murmurs against your clit about how pretty you look for him right now. 

Cheap wine soaking Halloween costumes. Hazy rooms, smokey with youthful desires and incense. Dancing in an apartment filled with boxes not yet unpacked. Whispers of something being real. Late night trips to the gas station and all the pride in your eyes as you heard his song played on public radio for the first time. The terrible waiting, the messy kisses of more teeth than lips. A simple necklace adorned with a simple ring, burning with more promises than either can comprehend, still gathering dust at the bottom of your jewelry box to this day. 

Just in case. Just in case he ever came back; just in case you ever returned. 

By the time he’s climbing back up your body, you have one foot in the past, cleaving yourself in two as you cling to him like water. 

“Look at you,” he whispers when his face is back above yours, lips still slick with you, “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” 

You swear, for just a moment, his eyes are mirrors. And you can see that dazed look you wear, the face of a woman still trapped by her past. The face of someone who can’t let the dead stay buried. Someone you wouldn’t describe as beautiful, but Eddie would. 

You should have left. You should be regretting this. You only pull him closer. 

His boxers bunch at his ankles, your fingernails dig into his back. When you feel him press against you, the tip of his dick just barely tapping against your clit, your entire body tenses. This was it. This was the mistake you had taken responsibility for, this was the choice you’d decided was worth damnation. A simple slip up, a quick fall backwards, and you’ll be right back where you started two years ago. 

“You still want this?” he sighs into your ear, clearly feeling the way you’d froze up. 

Your breath catches for just a second. More memories, more images that cut straight through you. Every careless afternoon, every serene morning. Every haunted night. 

“Yeah,” your entire body relaxes, muscle by muscle, “Yeah, I still want this.” 

You mean more than just the sex. 

The press of your heels into his lower back is all the encouragement he needs to finally push into you. The stretch burns, but it’s welcome all the same. Just an aftereffect of years of emptiness, of failing to ever find something that could make you feel as whole as he does. 

The moan he lets out as he’s wrapped in your warmth sends shivers down your spine. You swear, laced in it, there lies a gasp of relief. A sigh of coming home after a long tour, the huff of an exhale just before he crosses the threshold of a front door and has you in his arms again. 

You don’t know when the tears started. 

But between his thrusts, between all his wanton groans and your own quivers of excitement, your cheeks turn wet. 

“Then I say let it burn.”

You can’t tell if it’s sweat or his own tears seeping into your skin as your bodies press together harder, your head thrown back in ecstasy. 

“I love you so goddamn much, it hurts. I can’t believe this is real.” 

You find your hands tugging on the roots of his curls even harder as you try to tether yourself back to him, but it’s no use. 

“When I get back, all I care about is you.” 

It all comes crashing down on both of you as his face is buried in the crook of your neck and your thighs squeeze around his hips – all the love that was there, all the love that was lost. All the love that still remains. 

“Something for you to always have as a reminder that I’ll come back to you. You’re it for me, sweetheart.”

He’d always warned you this would happen. That one day he’d come back to you. That he’d only ever come back for you. 

It doesn’t matter how deep of scratches you leave across his back, or how many hickies he paints your skin with. There will never be enough bloodshed between the two of you to wash away the truth. It’s not a mistake, it’s not something to regret. You wish it was; you wish it were so simple. No, this moment was one thing and one thing only – inevitable. 

They always did say that your life would flash before your eyes right before you die. 

And flash it does – a lifetime of love that was had and love that will never come back to you – as Eddie brings you both to your graves from the most cursed of little deaths.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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#ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #maroon #this is not edited please don't come for me PLEASE #that phone call in the middle of it all is important btw <3 #truth be told i think this had also been my least favorite chapter to write #it gave me fucking hell

[zebulontheplanet]

People often ask me what my autism regression with Catatonia looks like and what was it like.

I’ve always known something was wrong. Before, I was working. I worked at a local fast food chain, and started having issues. I found it harder to mask, I found I was having more sensory issues, I found I was having meltdowns nearly everyday because of it. I was so confused. What was happening? I didn’t feel burnt out.

On top of that, I started having episodes that I thought were seizure activity but weren’t quite making sense. I’d freeze and not be able to move for minutes to hours. It was debilitating but not yet serious enough that and I thought maybe it was a shutdown or something like that.

I quit my job. It was becoming too much for me. I was no longer doing the right things, I was constantly overwhelmed and frustrated with myself. I could no longer work without supports, and my job wasn’t willing to give me those supports. So I quit.

After I quit, I felt like things started happening so quick. I started unmasking both willingly and unwillingly, I could no longer mask and that itself was overwhelming. I started losing skills. I was no longer able to bathe myself without intense prompting, and I was no longer independent with my IADLs and needed constant care and help. Not to mention my physical health started to decline. I started having more and more of those episodes of freezing, but just sorta shrugged it off.

Over time, my masking became basically nonexistent, I was stimming ALL. THE. TIME. Just to keep myself regulated. My sensory issues were out of control. I was no longer low support needs and started self isolating and felt severely depressed.

My freezing episodes started to get better, but I still needed prompting for basically everything, which was frustrating. I was no longer a person I recognized and it was bad. As time went on, my freezing episodes got worse again, and I started losing all skills you could think of. I struggled to do everything. My speech started declining more, and I started using AAC. Which was a newfound struggle.

I’m now slowly getting better, but I got a name for my freezing episodes now. Catatonia. Diagnosed by a professional who knew exactly what was going on. I’m everyday now trying to gain back the skills I lost and be more independent, but things are slow, and I will probably continue to lose skills just to try and gain them back again and repeat. Things are complicated, and this post doesn’t even say everything I went through and everything I want to say. This is just a baseline.

I’m working on getting better, but with continued regression it’s hard. It’s hard to do things when you need constant care and help. But I’m working everyday, and that’s what matters to me.

#zebrambles #autism #actually autism #medium support needs #actually autistic #autism catatonia #autism regression

[koulakoukoula2003]

Hey can do yandere levi x reader pregnant please

OH MY GAWWWWDDD YEEEESSSS

Yandere!Levi x pregnant!Reader

TW: yandere behaviour, mention of pregnancy ofc, babytrapping

Levi was being so... overprotective. He had always been possessive and protective but now that he had found out you were pregnant, everything had amplified to the fullest.

At first, you didn't want to tell him, you knew he'd become like this, but when you started to puke and faint out of nowhere, he dragged you to a doctor himself without even asking you.

And here you were now, on your comfortable armchair in the home he'd bought for you both. He had married you so fast, he had arranged everything on his own. It wasn't any grand wedding, just you, him and the man carrying out the marriage.

You didn't really have anything or anyone. Your parents had abandoned you in the streets ever since you were little and the military was an easy way to make profit and live beneath a roof and sleep with your belly full.

You were around 19 years old when you joined the survey corps. The military police wasn't an option since you weren't all that skilled, and everybody joined the garrison in your graduation year, so there weren't any empty places left. You were left out and so you had no choice but to join the Survey Corps.

You didn't regret it though, no matter how terrifying it was, the people were kind and friendly, even the superiors, even the newly appointed commander.

Captain Levi had taken everybody's attention. People started to call him humanity's strongest and with every passing expedition, you were starting to realise why.

He had been looking for people to add to his still nonexistent squad, but you had no idea why you were the first he took to his side. You weren't a particularly talented soldier. There were certainly soldiers with a higher kill count than yours.

You had taken out around 15 titans solo and 23 assists. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't actually impressive either.

It all happened so fast. You fell for him, he fell for you, and here you were now.

You watched him ride on his large brown horse towards your house through the window. He was rushing. He always rushed coming to you. He always looked like a God, riding fast like this. His horse neighed loudly as he urged it to slow down suddenly. His black hair waved in the air and his silver eyes were focused and determined.

He rushed to the door and walked in, finding you there, by the window, on the armchair that he had built for you himself.

"Are you okay?! How's the baby?! I haven't been missing too long, have I?"

You giggled. "It's only been a week. I am alright."

He dropped on one knee in front of you, coming face to face with your ever growing belly. He placed a hand on bump and he held your hand with the other.

"She hasn't been giving you a hard time, has she?"

You grinned. "It can be a boy too, you know."

Levi wanted a girl, you wanted a boy. There was no middle ground.

"Then we'll have another."

You laughed. Sometimes it scared you how fast he was moving and how fast he was making decisions about both your future, but right now, you were just happy to see him.

"I missed you." It came out of your mouth without permission and his eyes widened. What was it with that newfound display of affection? He knew you loved him, but you had your difficult times.

How you said you didn't want to marry him and you wanted more in life than this. You were young. Too young to start a family yet. You wanted to fight, you wanted to live first, you wanted... many things that he had snatched away the chance of you to live them.

But now you were here, a housewife, a mother, barely 20 years old. You couldn't complain though. You were far better off than most women your age. Levi took care of you and you were no longer living in the streets.

Plus, you had almost convinced yourself you loved him.

"I missed you too, brat," he pulled himself up on his feet and he leaned to catch your lips in his own.

You hummed in the kiss. So needy and clingy, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and tugged him closer down to you. Maybe your current state was making you need him more than any other time.

He pulled from the kiss and you whined in protest, but he cupped your cheek and spoke. "I'll go get changed and I'll be right back."

You nodded at him. "There's food in the kitchen if you're hungry."

He frowned. "You shouldn't be cooking in your current state."

You chuckled "And what would I eat?"

"I'll be staying with you for a week. I'll cook."

You laughed. "You don't know how to cook!"

"Then teach me."

You sighed "Fine."

"I'll go get changed. If you need anything, just call out."

"Yeah, yeah."

Always so worried. You sighed and waited for him, letting your head roll back to your armchair. Your hands lingered on the bump on your belly. You were on the seventh month and it was getting hard to do the simplest things like lean or tend to the garden that Levi loved so much, or cook and clean.

Before you knew it, you were dozing off in sleep. Not to mention that all you did was sleep and eat like a pig.

Levi returned to meet your sleeping form. A smile tugged at his lips. You were so precious. His precious little wife. The mother of his child. You were everything to him. He'd lose his sanity without you. Even when you were still at the start of your relationship, he'd go insane if he didn't see you for an entire day.

But now you were here, safe, in this little home, in this small village. No one knew you were captain Levi's wife and you were safer like this. He'd keep you safe no matter what.

Levi picked you up. Despite your added weight, he picked you up with no effort at all. You were so beautiful like this, turning to bury your face in his chest, even in your sleep you recognised his presence.

He placed you on your bed gently and covered you beneath the sheets. Sometimes he wondered whether he was obsessed with you or whether this was love. It didn't matter though. You were his. All his.

He didn't know how many hours he stood there, staring at you while you slept. He leaned in and kissed your lips gently not to wake you. You needed rest and he needed to suppress his lust for now. If he had you now, he'd break you.

You were a fighter once upon a time. If he hadn't knocked you up, you would have never agreed to marry him and settle down so fast. You wanted to live your life. What an absurd excuse?

But it was best you never found out about that.

He kissed you all over your face and you hummed in your sleep. He smiled.

"Mine."

#snk #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x oc #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi aot #levi x reader #yandere levi ackerman x reader #yandere levi ackerman #levi #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi x oc #levi x mc #levi x y/n #levi x reader smut #levi x you #levi attack on titan #yandere aot #yandere levi x reader

[kitthepurplepotato]

Week 6 Part 2 - Bring it on! 🪵🔥🍻

Summary: The group settles on the lovely clearing in the middle of the forest and enjoys a meal with a few drinks. Denki shows off his nonexistent bartender skills and makes Midoriya drunk. Y/N teases Katsuki but she stays alive for everyone’s surprise. Midoriya drinks some more to ease his worry… why is the empty chair giggling?

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, drunk people (they are safe, class prez is on it!) , swear words, mentions of a box of condom? 

First Part Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

When you step out of the bus you find yourself on a lovely clearing in the middle of the forest; there is a river in the distance, hidden only by a few trees, giving the camper just enough privacy to wash themselves, but it’s close enough to not get lost in the dark. By the look of it, you will be the only group camping in the area as there is no sign of other campers anywhere; you can see some cabins, still in walking distance but that’s all.

“Listen, team!” Iida speaks up, his voice loud and strong.

“Tell us, Class Prez!” Kaminari chimes in, making the hero embarrassed, but he continues in the same, strong tone.

“We rented out the whole camping site so we can enjoy some privacy. There is a public toilet around the cabins, in case anyone’s uncomfortable to do their thing in the woods; it also has a shower. Please, refrain from sprinting to the river naked.” He looks at Kirishima and Denki while he says that and you can’t help but laugh. “As always, drinking is allowed but please, be reasonable; we are really far away from the city so you’ll probably end up dead before you get to a hospital.” … and he looks at Denki again. You really want to fold in two and laugh until you die. Kaminari looks like he’s about to speak up, but Iida doesn’t let him. “And no, I won’t recipro burst you to the hospital again, I’m also here to wind down.” He sighs, letting Momo take over.

“Iida really covered the basics, but I would like to add a few things as well; Ashido, no stripping games and no Truth or Dares. We are not in high school anymore.” Mina whines at that but nods. “Ochako, no midnight snacking. Bakugou, please refrain from using a deadly amount of spice when you cook. I had to call in sick the last time you made us food because all my creations came out in flames, burning to ashes before we had the chance to use them.” Katsuki snorts an almost silent “weakling” but nods; by the way his eyes shine with mischief he won’t actually listen. “Shinsou, I know Denki can be annoying when he drinks, but try not to freak out Y/N by binding Denki to a tree like you did the last time. There is already a gossip in the nearby city about a wailing dead woman in the woods thanks to you. I think that’s it.” Momo finishes and looks at Shouto expectantly; it’s not over.

“Don’t worry Shinsou, my man, I’ll do it for you if it’s needed!” Sero whispers into Shinsou’s ears.

“Deal.” He answers and they fist bump mischievously. Kaminari yelps. You love these people so much.

“Now let’s see who’s sharing a tent with who.” Shouto grabs his little book, the same he used to read your names from.

“Can’t we choose?!” Denki whines, but he gets shushed by Iida right away. This really is a fucking school trip, what the fuck.

“Tent 1, Katsuki and Eijirou. Tent 2, Denki, Hitoshi and Hanta, Tent 3, Tsuyu and Ochako. Tent 4, Momo and Mina. Tent 5, Deku, Iida and myself, Tent 6, Kyouka and Y/N. There is also a spare tent for any emergencies.”

For your surprise, Midoriya doesn’t look too happy about the distribution; he stares at the ground like a sad puppy while kicking into a small stone over and over.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You whisper into his ear, your voice filled with worry.

“I’m fine, I just zoned out!” He laughs, but you know him enough to know he’s lying but you decide not to pry. “You need to be really happy to be able to have some bonding time with Kyouka, she was quite busy in the last few weeks.” He smiles again and looks back at group, ending the conversation.

After the tents are put up and ready to be slept in the group meets up in the middle of the clearing where Shouto is trying to start the fire.

Kirishima and Bakugou are busy with the food preparations; Kirishima peels while Bakugou cuts; Ochako is supposed to be on marshmallow duty but she gets banned from the job almost right away after eating half of the bag; Shinsou is in charge for the alcohol, or to be exact, of keeping Denki far away from it, while the rest of the team helps to set up the collapsible chairs and tables. Deku busies himself with the Non-alcoholic drinks; there are several options available in case someone isn’t a big drinker; there are different juices, soft drinks and of course, a massive amount of water. Midoriya pours himself a glass of orange juice and plops down next to you; as the stew cooks on the camping gas stove, the team gets together for the first round of drinks, handed out by KAMINARI.

“Wait, isn’t he banned from this activity?!” You ask Jirou, but she only rolls her eyes.

“He’s allowed to do the first round, but nothing else after. You won’t die from one shot but you might die from two.”

Splendid. The thing in your cup smells absolutely atrocious. It’s so strong it stings your eyes. You can’t wait to throw up after.

“To the new addition to our family!” Iida raises his cup and everyone cheers; the whole gang drinks the concoction in one go while you can’t even make it through the first sip without gagging.

“Let me take that from you, Sweet Pea.” Deku takes the cup from your hand and drinks it for you, making the whole gang cheer again at his chivalry.

“Awwwww!” Mina coos with a fond smile. “Find yourself a man who drinks two of Denki’s disgusting concoctions just to keep his loved one happy. Fuck, I’m so jelly.” She sighs, making you blush like a teen.

“He’s so manly!” Kirishima grins while stirring the food, but Katsuki slaps him on the forehead.

“Focus on the food, Shitty Head!”

“Yes, boss.” He mumbles and goes back to stir the food silently. He’s just about to finish his own drink when Katsuki takes it out of his hand and chugs it down. The sparkles in Kirishima’s eyes are actually visible.

“I need you to be sober until the food is done.” Katsuki says nonchalantly but his cheeks are already pink from the alcohol.

Oh, before you forget…

“Hey, Bakugou, I forgot to give you this!” You stand up and make your way to the small cooking station. You discreetly put something in Katsuki’s hands who looks at you questioningly but accepts the “present” anyway. When he opens his palms to see what’s inside his whole face turns tomato red.

“What the fuck, freeloader?!” Katsuki stares at the box of condoms in his hands. Yes, you are a little shit and it feels amazing to be one, thank you very much.

“Well, you asked me to bring some so I did. Have fun!” You chirp and sit back on your chair between a red faced, utterly confused Deku and a crying/laughing Jirou.

“If you fornicate in my tent, please let me know so I can burn it to a crisp.” Shouto deadpans while half of the team; the ones in the Deku’s Daycare group chat; laughs maniacally at your shenanigans.

“I fucking love her already.” Mina says between two laughing fits.

“I have no idea what’s going on but Y/N is the bravest woman I’ve ever met, that’s for sure.” Ochako looks at you like you are the best fucking thing in the world. This friend group is really weird but you love it here.

“I’ll absolutely murder you with my spiciest fucking chili tonight.” He yells viciously while the gang continues laughing.

“Oh well, thank god I love spicy food.” You wink and that was the last straw apparently; the blonde stomps away from the group grumpily.

“I’m going to see the river.”

“I heard cold water is good for burns.” Kaminari yells after him, barely avoiding Dynamight’s signature EP shot that comes towards him. You get a little bit flustered by the sudden noise so Midoriya pulls you close right away, covering your ears from the sound; when you look up you see him glaring daggers at Katsuki who doesn’t even bother to stop in his tracks.

“Asshole.” Midoriya grumbles. “Are you okay?“

“I might be quirkless, but I live in the world of quirks. I just got scared from the sudden noise, that’s all. I’m surprised he didn’t blow ME up to be honest, I really shouldn’t have done that in front of everyone.” You sigh, moving away from Midoriya; he looks at you with a hint of disappointment, his arms reluctant to let you go so soon. “I’ll apologize, just enjoy the company, yeah?” You smile and make your way to the river; Midoriya grabs your hand, looking at you with worried eyes; he bites his lips anxiously as he thinks about what to say next.

“Just… come back soon, okay?” He mumbles with a hint of a blush on his freckled cheeks, probably from the alcohol; he drank more than anyone else in the group.

“Always.” You smile as you make your way after the angry blonde sulking by the river.

~•🥦•~

“Sorry, man. That was fucking mean, wasn’t it?”

There is no reason for you to beat around the bush with this man so you say these lines right as you arrive at your destination.

“Technically, I did the same to you in the group chat, so… karma, I guess.” He sighs, disturbing the water with a small stick like a child. Kirishima would definitely take a picture right now, awkward or not. “You two got closer.” Bakugou states the obvious; you can’t help the tiny blush appearing on your face for being so obvious, even though you have no reason to be ashamed of it.

“It’s weird.” You admit. “Fighting against Midoriya’s affection is like fighting against the rain; you can scream, you can beg, you can kick the air, but it’s useless; the rain will fall when it wants to. Midoriya is like that, too.”

“All Might can change the weather.” Bakugou laughs at his own joke, shaking his head like he’s disappointed in himself. “Why are you fighting against it? Isn’t it a good thing?” Bakugou asks and for your surprise there is no edge to his voice; he looks at you with nothing but pure interest in his crimson eyes. These heroes and their sparkling beautiful eyes will be the death of you.

“Guess.” You laugh awkwardly, not even trying to hide your blush anymore.

“Hm.” He makes a dramatic thinking face. “Every time he’s snuggly you want to kiss his stupid freckled face in a non-friendly way?” He smirks at you, reducing you to a blushing-sputtering mess with how accurate his guess was.

“Wh…what?!” You stutter, looking at the still smirking blonde next to you incredulously.

“Did your stupid ass ever thought about him feeling the same way? About him having the same fucking thoughts and the same stupid excuses for not making a move? What then?”

“Stop!”

He doesn’t stop.

“How long will you walk on eggshells around him? Until he finds someone else? Fuck that shit, Y/N. Grow some balls. Test the waters. You’ll be surprised how much you can get away with. I know that dumb fucker like the back of my hands, you know. I’ve known him since I was fucking born.” He sighs while he stands up, his hands reaching out to you. “Come on, let’s go back. Our stupidly affectionate roommates are probably biting their nails off thinking I killed you already.” He laughs as you take his helping hand.

~•🥦•~

You two come back from the river with huge smiles on your faces; Bakugou’s arms are around your shoulders in a friendly manner and he teases you through the whole way, making you blush with his stupidly cheesy “headcanons” about Midoriya.

As you enter the circle, everyone stares at you; Kirishima looks at you two with a confused expression, Mina with pure wonder, Midoriya… well… he looks like he’s ready to kill. Again.

“Oi nerd, wanna swap roommates? I kinda took a liking to this one.” Katsuki says with a shit eating grin, but he gets smacked in the ass by Midoriya’s blackwhip so he lets you go with an ugly laugh. It’s so funny how you don’t even blush at the blonde’s comment; it’s so obvious he doesn’t actually mean it yet he still manages to make Midoriya angry. In a few seconds, his blackwhip disappears and he sits back on his tiny chair, arms crossed, lips pouting. By the massive blush on his face, he probably decided to drink some more to ease his nerves while you were away. He really needs to stop drinking this much. He looks so much worse than anyone else in the group and he haven’t slept properly for ages. When you sit down next to him he pulls your chair closer; after staring at you for a few moments, his face changes from the grumpy look to a derpy one.

“Y/N, I think I’m really drunk.” He giggles as he hides his face in his favorite spot on your neck.

“Oh no, he’s a goner.” Sero snickers, slowly sipping on his beer while he enjoys the “show”.

“Can’t wait to see what he will do tonight, haven’t seen him this drunk for ages.” Mina also chimes in and you have a feeling she knows what’s about to happen and that makes you feel a little bit uneasy, but you shake it off.

The whole gang giggles and you swear you can hear another voice you don’t know yet and also, there is a foldable chair opened up as an extra for no reason. This gang is weird. Also, maybe that ghost story isn’t that far away from the truth.

After a few more minutes and a few more sips of alcohol you start to have a hunch about what kind of drunk Midoriya is; as the sun goes down, Midoriya snuggles closer and closer and giggles at every single thing the gang says even if it’s not a funny conversation. Kaminari already drunk himself to a half dead state; he’s lying on the cold grass, using Shinsou’s shoes as a pillow, blabbing incoherent nonsense to no one in particular.

“I fucking hate when you are like this, you dumb little fuck.” Shinsou grumbles with a deep voice, aggravated. By the blush on his cheeks, he also had enough alcohol for the day and he’s an aggressive drunk apparently. “Why the fuck am I even here, why do I need to come here every time, you know I hate big crowds! You are a selfish bitch, Kitten, that’s what you fucking are.” Shinsou continues to grumble, not even caring that Denki is literally half asleep already. “Get the fuck up, Denki, you are going to catch cold and I ain’t gonna take care of your whiny sick ass.”

Iida decides this was enough of the show and ushers the two into their tents respectfully; Shinsou almost smacks Iida in the face, still aggravated for no reason but makes his way to his tent, dragging Denki with him by his hand; the guy doesn’t wake up just let’s Shinsou drag him through the dirty grass, still in laying position. It’s absolutely hilarious.

The sun is just about to go down, tinting the trees with an orange color; Izuku’s cheeks don’t need the help of the sunset, they are already blushed pink from the alcohol. You stare at your roommate with pure terror in your eyes; you have a feeling you’re gonna see something today you won’t be able to unsee, or Izuku will do something that can’t be undone. Or both.

Izuku is oblivious to your inner turmoil, he looks at his friends with a dreamy face, happy and content to be alive.

Oh well… maybe tonight isn’t gonna be as awkward as you think.

“Hey, Sweet Pea.” Midoriya nudges your side, his massive, droopy puppy eyes staring at you from up close. Really close. Really really fucking close.

“Yes?”

“I love you. So much.”

… Nevermind.

…Next Part!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

~ I’m so sorry about the cliffhanger! I actually kinda hate myself for it, even though I know what comes next so I really don’t want to know what you guys are going through right now 😂 I had to though, as the story doesn’t have a break until the end of the next part… there’s a lot happening in these 2 days, let me tell ya! Send me a comment about your ideas, let’s see if they are correct! :D

~ Drink responsibly. Don’t be like Denki. He will miss all the fun now. :(

~ I kinda want to see their first outing together, it’s sounds like a lot of fun And pain for Iida 😂

~ See you guys next week! As always, comments, likes, reblogs are appreciated and they make my day! If you want to be added to the taglist, just send me a comment or a message 🩷

Taglist: @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @momothemasocist @aymasakusa @kastuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader #Deku x reader #pro hero deku #midoriya izuku #izuku x reader #midoriya x y/n

[nunalastor]

Dark Forced Family/Overlord Found Family

Having Vox on the team might seem like an odd choice given his bad relationship with Alastor, but what sold it for the overlords that the risk was worth it was the power Vox shares with Alastor over radio waves. Vox has a way of communicating with Alastor that none of the others have, because Lucifer may have suppressed Alastor's magic into nonexistence, but he can't outright destroy it, that would cause unimaginable damage, and Lucifer may be crazy but even he knows taking that step is too far. But that means Alastor's power still exists, just suppressed, so if Vox can get close to him, he might be able to get a sense of what they're dealing with.

This wasn't relevant until the final fight with Lucifer. Zestial and Carmilla as the oldest overlord and the one with a shit ton of angel-killing weapons are at the front, with Rosie and Vox taking care of Alastor's body. Vox can feel how weak Alastor has become, he won't last the night if this continues, but that power is still there under the surface, he can feel it and if he really looked, he could see all of Alastor's pain.

He can't speak for Alastor, he can't wake Alastor on his own even if he tried. All he can do is use that to switch off safe mode and beat it into the king's head just how much pain Alastor is in. He is the overlord of technology, and one of his skills is communication, he can rub that in Lucifer's face as much as he has to if it means Alastor survives.

The fight isn't easy, between coming up with songs on the dime, Carmilla and Zestial dancing around, Charlie trying to defuse, and Rosie taking care of Alastor (she would fight but Alastor needs some blood to drink and to be as far from this fight as possible), but they see Vox's methods slowly making Lucifer break down. Vox doesn't need to say anything, just the aggression he is fighting with and a power Lucifer would know he shares with Alastor is enough to get the point across.

Until eventually, Lucifer stops fighting, and he seems to be on the brink of crying, though none of them can tell because his hat is shadowing most of his face. Before any of them can decide what to do, Lucifer quietly asks, "You'll take care of him?" None of them know how to answer to that, but figured the worst that would happen being honest was a continuation of the fight, so they confirm.

Lucifer snaps his fingers, and a gold chain around Alastor's neck appears, only to shatter in Lucifer's grip. Alastor's soul was free, and that included his magic that without warning caused the entire tower and hotel to be caught in a violent explosion.

The overlords get their bearings only a few moments later, looking around the hotel in ruin, all of its residents and the royal family whisked away to safety, and Alastor protected by a shield but left behind. Nobody knows what to think of what just happened. Was that it? Lucifer wised up and after everything... just stopped? What was going on?

Zestial convinces them the logistics don't matter right now. Alastor has his soul and his magic back, but he has yet to awaken. It would be best to provide him with emergency treatment either in the safety of Vee Tower or Cannibal Town.

The other overlords agree and Carmilla carries Alastor to get him to a hospital, but Zestial lingers behind for a moment, looking behind him and seeing Roo standing there. He thanks her for her assistance, and that is when Roo holds up a contract in her hand. "I was just fulfilling my end of the deal."

What Zestial hadn't told the others was that he had made a deal with Roo, selling his soul so she would say and do anything to convince Lucifer to let Alastor go, all he would need was a final push. He had a good run, and even if the deal was going to damn him in secret, at least his friends and his grandson had been able to survive.

👀

#hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #dark forced family #overlord found family

[theweeklydiscourse]

I’m re-reading Shadow and Bone right now and I’m suddenly reminded of why I could never take the Darkling seriously as a villain.

Baghra reveals the “horrifying truth” about the Darkling to Alina and she folds instantly. I’m not even exaggerating when I say that it takes Baghra only two tries to get Alina onboard with her plan. You mean to tell me that the Darkling is an ancient being who has had hundreds of years to practice his manipulation skills, yet he failed to sink his claws into the easiest possible target?

Really Alina should be extremely susceptible to the Darkling’s supposed brand of manipulation/seduction. I mean come on, she’s a lonely, insecure orphan who is still pining after a guy who has ignored her romantically for most of their relationship. This should be a walk in the park for the Darkling, and yet he fails so badly at manipulating her that it only takes ONE crotchety old woman (who had previous voiced her disdain for him ) to sway his target into knocking down his centuries long scheme like a house of cards.

Baghra: Alina, he is evil and has plans for world domination! He has manipulated your weak mind!

Alina: You are senile.

Baghra: Wait look at my shadow powers!

Alina: OH MY GOD HE’S GOING TO KILL EVERYONE!!! I HAVE TO RUN AWAY!!

The fact that Alina believes Baghra almost instantly when Baghra’s only piece of evidence is her shadow powers, is a testament to how lax Bardugo was when it came to actually writing the Darkling as an abuser. How am I supposed to buy into the idea that the Darkling is a scary and abusive man when the alleged pattern of abuse he displays throughout the book is nearly nonexistent? In fact, Alina’s realizations after this reveal are meant to recontextualize his past actions which she interpreted as benign but really just contradict what actually occurred in the text. She fully rewrites the narrative and retcons events that happened earlier in the book as a narrative shortcut. It is Bardugo pretending that she wrote an insidious process of manipulation into the narrative, when in reality it is lazy and condescending writing.

Honestly this scene would make more sense if the story Baghra told Alina was her trying to get rid of Alina. I mean the whole reason the Darkling keeps Baghra around (despite her terrible attitude and verbally abusive tendencies) is because she has been the only constant person in his life for centuries. They have a toxic and codependent relationship where Baghra can be as mean as she wants and the Darkling will never get rid of her for fear of being alone. It would make Alina a threat to that tenure since she is his equal and opposite half who could match his eternal lifespan, making Baghra’s position less secure. Thus, Baghra scares Alina into leaving the Little Palace and endangering herself once she leaves the safety bubble.

#shadow and bone #lb critical #s&b critical #alina starkov #s&b netflix #s&b salt #the darkling #darklina #anti leigh bardugo #anti baghra #aleksander morovoza #general kirigan #grishaverse meta #shadow and bone meta #baghra morozova

[arc-misadventures]

The VTuber: Cookie With A Gun

Errant: Hello everyone! Everyone having a good day today?

~~~ Stream Chat~~~

EverbornChild: Hi, Errant!

VIXENFOX389: Hello, darling~!

Kajin@1797: So far so good.

Triffle: Been better.

Kantrop67: It’s okay.

~~~~~~

Errant: A resounding, ‘Okay’ then. Alright then. Now as you’ve no doubt seen in the title of this stream, we will be playing, ‘Wizard with a Gun,’ made by, Galvanic Games. Now I streamed the demo version of this game a while back, and I have been patiently waiting for it to come out since. And, now that it’s finally out, we’re gonna stream it! However, I’m not going to be playing this alone…

~~~ Stream Chat~~~

TumbleDownTheBay: Wait! Is this what I think it is?!

GriffinTalon: A rare collab stream?!

CandiceX: Pleasepleaseplease!

14ever: Please be the hot blonde chick!

CaroporealBannana: No, the sexy catgirl!

BlondeInferno: No the saucy brunette!

~~~~~~

Jaune’s, VTuber model looked at the chat stream with a soft laugh as he shook his head towards their crazy antics.

Errant: I know two blonde chicks, two cat girls, and several brunettes, so you’ll have to specify who precisely it is you’re talking about. Although… ‘Saucy brunette?’ I know at least two people who would best fit that description. But, this person is none of them, she’s more of a gremlin really, one of two gremlins of the Remnant VTuber verse! I’ve done enough teasing, and who am I to leave a lady in waiting…

~~~ Stream Chat ~~~

GaspingDesire: You can leave me waiting as long as you want handsome~!

VixenVolpen: I can wait dear~!

Tender$$: I’m waiting like a steak ready to be eaten!

~~~

Errant: Alright, settle down chat… Ahem! Now, may I present to you everyone’s loveable little gremlin: CookieMonster!

From the right side of the screen soon emerged a girl, who was best described as a brunette with red tips, dressed as a gothic lolita. A girl with a warm, and carrying personality, whose sweet demeanour appeared nonexistent when given a gun. For the, CookieMonster as she referred to herself as was one of the kindest, VTuber’s around, she was also an infamous, and highly skilled FPS player, wining several rewards for her skills, and earning the nickname of: Red Reaper. But, to her fans she was an adorable ball of sunshine, CookieMonster.

Errant: Hello, Cookie! You excited for today?

Cookie: I am super excited! I’ve been so looking forward to this game, and I am super happy you asked me to join you in playing it!

Cookie’s joy, and excitement was palpable as she spoke in her happy-go-luck aura she excluded over herself. Errant found himself smiling at her words, but it fell as he adopted an inquisitive look across his face.

Errant: Uhh…? D-Didn’t you ask me if I wanted to do a collab, and stream this together?

Cookie couldn’t help but look away nervously at being caught before she nervously replied back.

Cookie: I’m super happy you said yes to doing a collab stream with me!

Errant: Alright. So you ready to play, Cookie?

Cookie: Almost, just gotta say to my chat, and we can begin. Is that alright?

Errant: By all means, go ahead.

Cookie: Thank you~!

Cookie swiftly muted herself so, Errant couldn’t hear him as she looked down at her chat feed. Her face was all smiles before the smile fell, and she screamed in terror at her chat.

Cookie: FUUUUUCK! I screwed it up already guys!

~~~Stream Chat~~~

DrukenBailer: Did you?

FallenStar789: It was a slip of the tongue

Haloboy: Youre fine you got this!

Birdinthesky: Can’t wait to see her flirt if this is the best shes got

Candlebrewer0174: Youve got this!

Kittycat1976: You got this!

DavidStermtiger: I believe in you!

~~~~~~

Cookie: You’re right! It’s only just started I can do this! You guys are with me, there’s nothing we can’t do! Such as flirting with my very hot, cool VTuber crush…

Her voice slowly trailed off into a whisper as she grew too embarrassed to continue speaking. Her chat kept showering her in reassuring compliments, and comments on how cute she was. Cookie was soon taken away from her calm stupor as she heard the sound of clicking, and clanking: The sound of a rifles bolt loading a new bullet into the firing chamber. A sound that may have startled many, but it was all to common for, Cookie’s stream since it was her donation sound after all.

Cookie: Hey, SamathaDesires thanks for the ten li…?!

~~~Donation~~~

SamanthaDesires: Get your hands off of my man you skank!

~~~~~~

Cookie’s mouth fell in shock, her, VTuber model clearly showing to everyone the shear shock she felt, and dispear at the rude comment she had just received.

Cookie: …

Cookie: WHY ARE YOU GUYS SO MEAN?!!

~~~~~~

Although he couldn’t hear her, Errant could clearly see, Cookie’s model and the way her body spazzed about. Her facial expressions swapping on the dime to convey a wide range of emotions; from despair, to fear, to hope, to an oddly calm sense of serenity, then to absolute fury.

Errant: …

Errant: She does know I can see her freaking out right?

~~~Stream Chat~~~

TumbleDownTheBay: Not likely

VixenVolpen: Doesn’t look like she does.

Vilvian: What is she freaking out about?

~~~~~~

Errant: Beats me chat. Unless… Are you guys bullying her? Chat be honest; I won’t be mad. Just… disappointed…

~~~Stream Chat~~~

14ever: That’s dad for mad!

Dinonuggies: Sounds like you will be mad

8teenlover: Anyone else think that was hot?

GrendalWizard: Damn hot

~~~~~~

Errant: Great, I can’t tell you lot to behave because some of you will get off to it… peachy. Haa… Is, Cookie ready, or…?

Errant looked back to, Cookie’s stream before doing a double take to look at her in utter bewilderment. HerVTuber model was standing and quickly looking at a writing board, and jotting something down before returning to address her chat.

Errant: When the hell did she pull out that writing board?! And, the devil is she writing; that chicken scratch is so illegible that its like using sign language to speak to a blind man.

~~~ Stream Chat~~~

GriffonTalon: 🤣🤣🤣

VixenVolpen: Oh that’s mean

Falling4Angels: now that’s funny

Allerix: low blow man

~~~~~~

Errant: Alright lets try, and get this…? I-Is she barking at them?

Errant looked to, Cookie to see her shouting at her chat, since he couldn’t hear what she was saying she looked like an angry dog barking at someone walking by her house.

Errant: Okay, lets put a stop to… whatever the hell this is.

Errant quickly reopened the chat so he could hear whatever it was, Cookie was yelling about.

Ccokie: And, that’s why I deserve to be his loving waifu, you…?!

Errant: Cookie?

Cookie: AHHHH?!!

(THUD!)

Errant: …?!

Cookie: Owwww…

Errant’s little interjection to grab, Cookie’s attention, resulted in her screaming her head off, and falling into a heap on the floor, out of camera. The only sound emanating from her now the was pained growing as she laid upon the ground.

Errant looked towards his chat before uttering a single word that would become to define the events of todays stream.

Errant: Whoops…

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #The VTuber

[natsukashinico]

i’m so tired of ayumu being disregarded as the “annoying,” “petty,” “toxic,” “unlikable” leader of the love live! groups.

ayumu’s mere existence marks a huge turning point for the love live! franchise. she was our first leader who broke the trend of “genki smile-attribute girl who’s a ray of sunshine, but sometimes gets sad because not every day can be a sunny day. :(”

now, i love honoka and chika with my whole heart, believe me, but it’s so refreshing to break that formula. it’s such a breath of fresh air to have a leader who’s unsure of herself and her group right off the bat, who isn’t naïvely charging forward to chase her goals, hell, who isn’t even chasing her own goals.

ayumu doesn’t even particularly care for or want to be an idol, she just wants to fulfill her girlfriend’s (oh, it’s not technically canon yet? sighhh fiiiinneeee) “dearest friend’s” wishes. she is the first leader who doesn’t become an idol for her own sake or for her school’s, but for yuu’s.

she is selfish, she is petty, she is clingy, but she’s sixteen. like you were a saint when you were a teenager? like you weren’t just as, if not more, petty and unsure of yourself? please.

while honoka and chika highlight the wonderful impulsiveness and childish naïveté of adolescence, ayumu encompasses the insecurities, the dependency on others, and the desire to please others, even at the detriment of oneself.

… and honestly? for that reason, ayumu already immediately feels like a more grounded and realistic character. somebody that girls her age can actually relate to and see themselves in — insecurities, pettiness, clinginess, and all.

this isn’t even to say that honoka and chika don’t have problems — trust me, if you think that, you clearly haven’t read the stories in the games or watched the animes — but that’s all they are to them. problems. everybody has those, and frankly? the two of them resolve those problems rather quickly. they’re fleeting, inconsequential things to them. they solve their problems more like adults would, and take most things in stride.

(yes, i’m proud of My Girls™, how could you tell?)

ayumu’s problems are deep-seated. when something arises, instead of vocalizing her discomfort, she keeps quiet and internalizes it — we see her doing this at least once in every episode of the nijigasaki anime, up until it reaches a head later in the show with her confrontation of yuu. she lets things fester and build up inside of her until, regardless of how trivial they seem to those from the outside looking in, they seem like world-ending dilemmas to her.

in short, her problem-solving skills are nonexistent, not unlike those of most teens her age.

anyway! let’s all appreciate the love live! team for giving us more well-rounded, flawed, realistic characters in their media instead of hating on a sixteen-year-old for, well, acting like a sixteen-year-old.

TL;DR: stop hating on ayumu for acting like we know you acted at her age! teens are petty, insecure, and confused little critters, and that’s okay!

thanks for coming to my ted talk. 🎀

#ayumu uehara #love live! #love live! nijigasaki high school idol club #nijigaku #love live #character analysis

[themore12]

Hey this my first time requesting so, Ace, Deuce, Jack and Sebek x gender neutral s/o, separate, where their s/o surprise hug them from behind, headcanons.

fell free to ignore, and sorry if your inbox is close

Surprise hugging Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Sebek!

Ace Trappola

He was talking to Deuce at the time, not knowing that he was about to get surprised.

When you hugged him it was like hugging something warm, and he smelled nice too, like a tart perfume or something.

Ace was going to use his fight or flight instincts with you until he remembered your hugs.......

Then he laughed like he wasn't going to use his nonexistent hand-to-hand skills with you.

(While Ace was thinking of whether to run or try to bodyslam the person hugging him. Deuce was just there, like mouth agape and slightly surprised expression.)

(If you’re wondering what was going on at his head it was, ‘Oh, how sweet!’ and then when he realized what was happening better, ‘Ace with a partner…didn’t know he could have one…’ he shuddered at the truth.)

He isn't going to lie, your hug felt great. He felt like he needed it.

But he's an annoying boyfriend so of course, he made fun of you hugging him.

But when you pulled away, he hugged you back, like he had been waiting for that moment hug, mumbling something like ‘It didn't feel right not to hug you back…..”

Then he continued saying that you couldn’t help yourself but fall for suave Ace Trappola, whilst hugging you.

He may be the most annoying one out of the bunch, but he does show his love the best.

Also, Deuce was just forgotten at the back.

Speaking of Deuce-

(He definitely thought about the whole interaction that night. Because Deuce swore he heard muffled high-pitched screaming beside him.)

Deuce Spade

“Ace what do you mean by DN-“

*Hugs Deuce from behind*

(Cue delinquent Deuce)

He was going to punch whoever thought to surprise attack (hug) him-

Oh.

HE ALMOST PUNCHED ——

You got to see an annoyed Deuce for a sec before he realized it was you.

When he did he was apologizing already, he didn’t even do anything yet but look at you annoyed-

He had many enemies back then so he guessed someone sneaked in to seek revenge, which was far from the truth.

He said that it happened once, so he’s much more alert now.

He was flustered when he realized you just wanted to hug him, so he apologized even more.

He hugged you saying this was his apology, it was adorable.

(Cue Ace barfing in the background)

He walked you to your class after that whole affair.

When you got in your class and said goodbye he said "I love you." And ran away.

He was very flustered since he didn't expect to say it out loud, so there was a Deuce running to his class with a goofy smile and a red face.

So ace was left alone, like a third-wheel-

This man was a former gangster, he has more experience with fighting hand to hand more than Ace-

Can probably bodyslam you for sure, so be careful to not surprise him THAT much again.

(Also he thinks he's very lucky to have you.)

Jack Howl

Actually trying to surprise hug Jack is a challenge.

Not only is he beastman, but he is also a wolf beastman.

Making it much more difficult to surprise him, since his hearing is better than humans.

But you did catch him off guard one time.

It happened in his room late at night.

He just got out of the shower and he was looking for a comb.

It looked like a chance so you did the unthinkable.

Surprise hugged Jack Howl.

Not only was he surprised, but he also found the comb!

Which was on your hand, that was connected to your arm, that was hugging him.

You’re hugging him.

It took a while for him to process that you’re hugging him, maybe it's because it’s almost his bedtime and he’s sleepy, but man did it take a while.

But when he processed that you were hugging him, he didn’t blush or become flustered.

Ok maybe he became a bit flustered, but he didn’t blush!

“Please let go of me I’m still a bit wet.”

It was just an excuse because he doesn’t think he could stop his tail from wagging or the smile that was taking over his lips.

He slept with a hidden smile and combed his hair that night.

Sebek Zigvolt

Oh, this loud half fae….how do you surprise a knight in training?

He’s training to be a knight so he is always alert.

There is always a time when he seems to let his guard down, and it's when he talks about Malleus.

So while Sebek was busy telling Yuu how great Malleus is you sneaked behind him and just-

*Hug*

Unlike the others, he knows it’s you, as a knight, he should be able to know who’s an ally and who’s an enemy.

Although he is boisterous, he still has manners unlike the first two, (deuce has manners), and excused himself to talk with you, which Yuu was glad about since they didn't need to hear another 'the greatness of waka-sama.'

"Human! Why did sneak up behind me to hug me?! You could have simply asked!"

To which you replied. (you make your own reply)

"Ah, to surprise me?! How cunning of you!"

He meant it nicely, somehow in a nice way.

He hugged you back briefly, and you had a suspicion that he liked it with the way he smiled. But perhaps you were just hallucinating it.

(You weren't.)

(He isn't one to show affection in public, but he doesn't refuse your affection that much.)

This is my first time writing for the first years so if this sucks ill just haha and go ahead and watch every god damn chapter again.

I only post at Monday! Wednesday! Friday!

Also, the epel request one is on the way dw

I DONT KNOW IF I SHOULD ADD EPEL BUT HE ISNT PART OF THE ORIGINAL REQUEST SO SRRY

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst ace #twst deuce #twst jack #twst sebek #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #sebek zigvolt #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst ace x reader #twst deuce x reader #twst jack x reader #twst sebek x reader #ace x reader #deuce x reader #jack x reader #sebek x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #i posted earlier bcs im gonna sleep early LOL

[silent-raven13]

Do Omegas leak?

Pav asked: Well?

Gwen rubs her chin: Well, I don't know... I never heard of that before.

Miles and Hobie walks up to them: Hey, guys. What are ya'll talking about? -Hodie wrap his arms around his Sunflower's shoulders-

Hobie: Yeah, you two look like your talking about something serious.

Pav: I was reading this... story Gwen sent me and it was an Omegaverse story!

Miles began walking away

Gwen shouted: Wait, Miles. We promise we won't say you would be an Omega. -He quickly appeared in front of them-

Pav's gasp: Wow, so fast! How did you do that?

Hobie chuckles: I thought him that.

Miles scoffs: Yeah, right! It's a trick I know. Anyway, what were you guys saying? -he looks at his two friends.-

Hobie slouches on his boyfriend: Yeah, spit it out.

Pav blushes: We-well, there was this scene where the omega gave birth to a set of "pups" and the omega is a dude, so he breast feeds. -Hobie listens being interested in the story while Miles looks bored.-

Hobie: Pups?

Gwen answered: It's another word to say babies.

Hobie: Ahh.

Pav: Anyway, the pups were crying for their "mama" for milk. So, the Omega heard their babies crying and started to leak milk. So I asked Gwen is that really a thing for omegas and women?

Gwen put her knowledge to use: I told him, I never heard Omegas having that issue, but I heard mothers do leak from time to time when it's time to feed.

Hobie nodded: Hmm, Hmm. Interesting.

Miles blinks: I never heard of that before... -The teenager group were unaware of Deadpool and his Peter walking pass them. They were busy sipping their soda, until they overhear the Spider Band- An Omega leaking out milk? That's kinda- I mean, I would get if their breasts are full.

Pav: Awe, I really wanna know.

Gwen: Why?

Pav: Because it's vague. I never understand why writers are so vague about writing Omega verse, it sometimes confuses me. Even with the whole Alpha female with an Omega man or Alpha female with an Omega woman!

Gwen giggles: Leave it up to your imagination, buddy.

Miles look up his Smartphone: It says here if a child cries the mother would leak milk due to their material instinct.

Hobie chuckles: Simple enough, luv.

Miles: i guess, Omegas are material mothers... I'm sure they would leak. They are the ones that give birth to babies.

Hobie places his hands on Miles' shoulder: Then, if that's the case. I should do this. -He clears his throat then he went- Wahhh, wa-ahhhh, wahhh. -Fake crying in front of Miles-

Miles looks confused: What the fuck?

Pav and Gwen giggles: Good one, Hobie.

Hobie snicker, then Miles realize what he did: Ugh, not funny! -He cutely pouts looking annoyed, then walks ahead- I'm leaving.

Hobie quickly follows him: Wait, luv. I was only joking!

Miles huffs: No! I'm ignoring you. -Giving his boyfriend the silent treatment.-

Gwen and Pav laughs out loud as they follow their friends. Hobie quickly shouted: Miles, I'm sorry! -He whines out loud-

Deadpool hears this then giggles: Ohh, so that's a thing, huh?

His Spiderman sighs: Wade, what are you planning now?

Petie talking to Lupe about their recent mission: So, I thought I made these power bars during my long mission and they work! I think it works too well. -He slurps his milkshakes-

Lupe awes at him: Ohhh, did it make you too full? -She chews on her burger-

Petie nodded: Yes! I couldn't eat the whole day! I only ate half of the bar. Maybe for long missions and when May is a bit older. I try to feed her and I wasn't able to produce any milk for her.

Lupe: Awe, poor baby. She must've been hungry.

Petie: She was! I felt so bad... luckily I had some breastmilk in the fridge for her. She was giving me a look.. it was kinda terrifying.

Deadpool appears in front of the two, his great skills having him blending in the background as a side character. His Spider-man stood slurping his soda wondering what is he planning. Deadpool looks at us: You know, what I'm about to do, huh? -he wiggles his nonexistence eyebrows-

Lupe giggles: That's how it is. Babies always want the real thing, and know May is like her mom. She probably knows what she likes. -Lupe noticed Deadpool looming over them, she ignores him. That guy always is doing something crazy-

Petie chuckles: Yeah...

Deadpool appear behind Petie then he put on his best child cry: Wa-aa-aahhhhhh! Waahhhh! Waaaaahhhhhh! -He uses two his hands around his mouth as he continues to fake cry- Waahhhh!

Lupe arched her eyebrows: What da fuck?

Petie blinks: Huh? -Never been so confused in his life-

Deadpool's Peter groans: Idiot! -He punches Deadpool's head knocking some sense to him- What the hell were you thinking?

Deadpool felt the painful hit, his Peter used his Spider-man strength which hurts like hell: OW! Peter that hurts! Owowowowow! -This time he rubs his head at the pain and cry out loud- Owwww-oooohhh. Waaahhhhh!

Lupe watches with amusement: Hahaha, that's what you get for being so weird! What da hell were you doing?

Deadpool too busy crying in pain: Owowowow! -While his Spider-man scolding at him-

Petie was about to slurp his soda until he noticed his chest weak and gasps: OH no! I'm leaking!

Lupe stood alert: WHAT? -She saw Petie's Spider-man suit getting weak from his breastmilk- Oh my gawd, we need to get you a pump!

Petie quickly cover his chest: I think because Deadpool's crying made my body think May is hungry. -He never felt so embarrassed-

Deadpool stops crying as he looks at Petie's suit around his chest being wet: Yes! It works! Peter do it again. Hit me, again!

His Peter shouted: No, are you insane!

Lupe found a blanket to cover Petie's chest as they both left to head to Petie's locker to get his pump: It's okay ignore that dummy. He's just a pervert. -the two passes by the Spider Band-

Hobie on his knees shaking his boyfriend's leg: Luv, speak to me. I said I was sorry! -Being all teary eye by his Miles' silent treatment-

Pav giggles: Miles, he said he was sorry.

Miles huffs: Sorry, I couldn't hear him.

Hobie whines: Luuuuvvv, don't do this to me!

Miles: Hmm, do you hear that? All I hear is the wind.

Gwen laughing at the two, then saw Petie and Lupe: Ohh, I wonder why Petie looks shy.

Pav: Maybe he met another Alpha. Good thing Lupe is there.

Miles: Yeah, she's tough! She'll make a perfect Alpha unlike some people. -He huffs at his boyfriend-

Hobie whines: Ahh, Luv. Don't be so cruel to me! -He hugs his boyfriend's legs-

Miles: Hmm, I hear no one.

#punkflower #hobie brown #miles morales #spiderman #across the spider verse #spider verse #miles morales 1610 #hobie x miles #miles x hobie #spider man #spiderverse #flowerpunk #flower punk

[theladyofdeath]

Lady Death's Lover {I}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: Please be sure to read the trigger warnings before reading the chapter or any chapter from this story! I hope you all enjoy reading these chapters as much as I've enjoyed writing them. Writing this fic has been a coping mechanism of sorts. Please like, drop a comment, or reblog if you wish. x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

My Dearest Sister,

I must apologize for Feyre’s absence in this letter. She is angry with you after your previous words and says that Isaac Hale is more of a man than you will ever realize. Now, I know nothing of their relationship so I cannot chime in, but even with her in a bitter state, I wanted to reply to your kind and loving words.

I’m so pleased that your life with Tomas is so grand. It’s like a fairytale, one we read of when we were young. You’re like Cinderella, saved by a prince that could give you the world. I can only hope that I, myself, find such a happy ending one day.

You were right in your speculations. Greysen and I are no more. He’s promised to another, in fact. They shall be married this season and although I understand - she is a beautiful lady of society, you see - I have still cried myself to sleep each night for a month. There is no need for you to come protect my honor. He has made his choice and it is one that I must live with. By the Mother’s grace, I shall move on. 

Do you think that there is a time when I can come visit you? A ball sounds so exciting. What are they like? I imagine lovely treats and drinks and magnificent dresses. Oh, and lovely music where couples dance until wee hours of the morning. I’ve been practicing my dances, although I have very few opportunities to use such knowledge around here. I hope to attend events this season to show my newfound skills. My favorite is the waltz. How romantic! 

Tell Tomas we say hello. Feyre, although angry, sends her love. So does father. We miss you, dear sister. I hope to hear from you soon.

Your sister,

Elain 

Nesta 

“Undress.”

I notice my husband comes into my room but he waits ten minutes before saying a word. Of course, the first word he says is demeaning, but I do not have the right to refuse him. Even so, I pretend to read my book for another moment, although there is no use in reading. The air is too thick when he is present to read. Even my escape becomes nonexistent. 

“Nesta.”

My name on his lips feels wrong. There is no awe in it, no love. There is only a hint of annoyance. Reluctantly, I place a ribbon between the pages of my novel and close it shut. 

“Apologies, my lord,” I say. I hardly recognize my own voice. “It is hard to put down a story so captivating.” 

“Ah,” he says, chuckling, and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. “I should have known, my headstrong wife. Come. Undress.” 

I am only in my nightdress, and it hardly hides a thing, but I don’t say as much. What’s one more layer gone? 

When I stand, I feel I am no longer in my body. I feel like an outsider, watching myself from a distance with an empty space where my heart should be. I hardly notice his eyes on me as I slip my shift off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. I stand before him, bare and unfeeling, glad he is only looking and has yet to touch. 

I know the peace will not last long. 

He approaches me. 

As he begins stripping off his shirt and trousers, I lay back down in the center of my bed and wait. I find a spot on my ceiling, a spot next to the golden trim where it seems a spark flew too high out of the fireplace. I focus on the spot, then my breathing, and as my husband crawls on top of me, I force my body to relax.

As he pushes into me, that spot becomes my anchor. 

I did not want to marry Tomas. The truth of the matter is that I would have married anyone, and I probably would have hated every man pushed in my direction just as much as I hate Tomas. I have yet to meet a man worthy of anything other than disdain that has a title to his name and although me marrying a man with a title, with money, was necessary, I know that I would’ve been happier marrying a man that had absolutely nothing. 

I’ll never know.

We were wealthy once, when my mother was alive, but after her death everything seemed to fall apart. My father made a series of poor business decisions and it left us with nothing. It wasn’t until Lord Tomas Mandray visited our village for a weekend last Autumn that our luck changed. We were in the right place at the right time and he took notice of me. My father negotiated our marriage and that was that.

I had no say in the matter. Yet, I would stand by every time, would let it happen all over again if given the chance. My sisters are cared for, thanks to my husband’s generosity. As is my father, but I could care less about his happiness, if I may be so blunt. He has never given a damn about me. Why should I feel any differently? 

Above me, Tomas grunts. It’s a horrible noise, recurring, until his body grows tense, releasing inside of me. I keep still. The stiller I am, the quicker this ends. 

He collapses on top of me and catches his breath. I lay there, flat on the mattress until he rolls off of me and rises from the bed, redressing. I do not move until he’s gathered all of his garments and walks toward the door, his exit.

“I’m going to the club,” he says, and that’s it. The door shuts behind him and I’m being enveloped in the silence. For a moment, I cannot move. I continue to stare at the spot on the ceiling, its grand display becoming a comfort to me. I let Tomas’ release drip out of me, unsure if I want to become with child or not. A child would be a blessing, an heir, my duty, but it would also be Tomas’s, and there is a part of me, a selfish part of me, that does not want to progress his bloodline. Perhaps a man as brutal, as demeaning, as execrable as him should not reproduce. I know that children are not their parents, but I also know Tomas. 

The air suddenly becomes brisk against my bare skin but I can’t bring myself to move. When I move, I’ll have to get up, I’ll have to clean myself, I’ll have to redress and pretend as if everything is fine. 

Nothing is fine. Fine is irrelevant. 

The spot on the ceiling begins to blur and I cannot tell if I am crying or my eyes have simply given up. Either way, I feel nothing. I’m not certain how long I lay there, how many minutes or hours pass, but the sky outside remains dark as time goes by, dismissing my emptiness into nothingness. I pray to the gods, the Mother, the Cauldron, anyone who is willing to listen to give me an ounce of strength. 

I’ve no clue what time it is by the time I finally convince my feet to move, finally convince myself to rise and cleanse the remnants of my husband’s seed from my body. When I lay down again, I close my eyes and pretend to fall asleep until it finally claims me.

~.~.~

Cassian

The numbers are not where they should be. 

I’ve gone over this month’s pages twice now and I feel a sense of panic rising up inside of me so I pour a drink, then another, until the numbers no longer scare the shit out of me. I’ve only started feeling the joyous buzz when the door to my study bursts open and my two closest friends, my brothers, stride through the door, unwelcomed and not caring. 

“Get up!” Rhysand says, grinning in that way that I equally love and hate. The grin that says something terrifying is about to take place. “We’re going out.”

“I don’t want to go out.”

“You work too much,” Azriel mutters, plopping down on a settee against a far wall. “And that’s coming from me.” 

“I’m trying to build an empire to pass onto my children,” I defend.

Rhysand barks a laugh. “What children? First you need a wife and you won’t find that sitting on your ass alone every night.”

“It’s late,” I say, but it’s more of a groan as I let my face fall into my hands. 

“It’s not even midnight,” Rhysand mutters, shaking his head. “What happened to you? You used to be the fun one.”

“Yes, well, I’m nearly thirty. The fun had to end eventually.”

Azriel whistles. “Someone’s feeling morbid.”

“Hardly made a profit this month.” My words are muffled by my hands. “I think I’m going to have to raise the rents. Again. It’s been a shitty spring in the fields. Hardly anything’s been produced.” 

Rhysand sighs, sitting next to Azriel and tossing an arm around his shoulder. “You’ve some money set aside, yeah? Look to invest. My investments bring in far more money than anything else.” 

My hands fall from my face and land on top of the papers that are scattered across my desk. I nearly knock over a candle. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Sounds like a lot of work that I’m not prepared for.” 

“Yeah, work that’ll pay off. Quickly.” Rhysand jostles Azriel’s shoulder.

Azriel sighs. “Are we getting a drink? I need a drink.”

“You two go,” I say, attempting to straighten the scattered papers. “I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.” 

“Know who you should meet with?” Rhysand asks, paying absolutely no attention to the words coming out of the rest of us. “Tomas Mandray. I hear he’s gotten a hold of a few profitable mines up north. Always looking for investors. Easy money.” 

Just the name of that asshole makes me feel sick. “That guy’s a prick.”

“Yeah, a successful prick,” Rhysand says, and Azriel snorts. “You meet with him once a year and get a good payout every month. Surely that’s worth it.” 

“Leave him alone,” Azriel says, eyeing the half-full bottle of brandy on my desk lovingly. “If he wishes to dismiss solid business opportunities, let him.” 

“So you agree with Rhys?” I ask, picking up my empty glass only to realize there’s nothing in it.

Azriel’s lips thin. “I don’t care what you do, as long as it involves me getting a drink at some point.”

I lift a brow. “Something the matter? Seem agitated.”

“Az is always agitated.” Rhysand claps Azriel on the shoulder yet again, to his dismay. “I’ll set up a meeting. Go if you want, don’t if you want to keep crunching numbers until you fall asleep on your desk. Come. Az needs to be drunk.”

Azriel didn’t deny it. I suddenly feel a sense of selfishness, worried I’ve missed what’s been going on in both of their lives. Clearly something’s wrong with Azriel, something I should know about but don’t. I’ve been too engrossed in this shit. Abruptly, I stand up from my desk and try to smooth out my rumpled shirt. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Rhysand frowns and Azriel lifts a brow. The former asks, “With you looking like that?” 

I sit back down. “You’re right. I should stay here.”

With a curse, Azriel stands and hurries out the door, leaving Rhysand and I alone. 

“What’s wrong with him?” I ask, quietly.

Rhysand shrugs. “Won’t say, but I know it’s bad. He needs us. He needs entertainment.” 

I sigh, fully aware I’m losing this battle. I realize that his carefree attitude tonight has been for Azriel’s benefit alone. I open my mouth, but he cuts me off.

“I know Mandray is the last person you want to spend your time with, but he’s honorable. In business, anyway. It’ll be worth it. I mean it. I’ll call for a meeting.”

I stare at my brother for a long time, knowing he’s the only person in this city more stubborn than myself. “Fine, but if this comes back to bite me in the ass, you’re paying for it.”

His grin tells me that he doesn’t give a damn. “It won’t. I’ve been doing business with him for years.” 

Azriel comes back into the room at full speed, tossing a jacket and hat on my desk. “It’ll cover your wrinkled shirt. Come now.”

This time, when he rushes out of the room, Rhysand and I are following him. I’m not certain where we’ll find ourselves, in an opium den or brothel or a common gentleman’s club, but I must admit that as we walk out of my townhouse, into the cool night air, I feel a little bit lighter. 

If there is one thing I can count on, it is the company of the two men before me. We’ve known each other since we were children and they are the closest thing I’ve ever had to a family.

My father was a man of nobility but my mother worked in a brothel. Being his only son, my father recognized me as his heir but never named my mother. I used to think it was a curse but after my father’s death I saw it for the blessing it was. I don’t know if I’ll ever marry, but if I do…and if I have children of my own…they will be well cared for.

Financially. Morally. All of it. 

When that day comes, if it comes, I’ll consider myself a lucky man. But, for now, I follow Rhysand and Azriel from one side of town to the other to be the fun, young bastard I once was. 

I’ll need it, especially if I’m getting into business with Lord Tomas Mandray. 

#fanfic #acotar #fanfiction #nessian #acowar #acomaf #sjm #period au #19th century au #nesta #cassian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta

[stardustprompts]

she who became the sun ( the radiant emperor #1 )  -   shelly parker-chan change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying  tw ;  death , war ,  violence , sexism

‘they say there’s luck in names, and you’ve certainly had luck enough.’

'in my experience, lucky people tend to be the laziest.’

‘where’s the fun in suffering by yourself?’

‘you think you’re that good-looking everyone wants to see you?’

‘desire is the cause of all suffering.’

‘I don’t appreciate being made a puppet for another man’s dirty work.’

‘when I ask myself if future pain is worth it for this life I have now, I always find that it is.’

‘I always knew you had a strong will. but what’s unusual about you is that most strong willed people never understand that will alone isn’t enough to guarantee their survival.’

‘more so than will, survival depends upon an understanding of people and power.’

‘it isn’t strength, but knowledge, that will be our best tool for surviving these difficult times ahead.’

'undoubtedly, chaos brings danger. but there will be opportunities, too.’

‘it’s due to chaos that we’re living through a moment in which even ordinary men can aspire to greatness.’

‘are you going to stab me?’

‘you can’t pray away your fate.’

‘I was merciful. I let you live.’

‘you cause me trouble as well as shame.’

‘you disappoint me.’

‘any power with such comprehensive reach should be understood.’

‘any power with such comprehensive reach should be understood. perhaps especially if they’re on our side.’

‘in my father’s eyes, I’ll always be the failure.’

‘(name) is an easy person to love. the world loves him, and he loves the world, because everything in it has always gone right for him.’

‘you and (name) are two unlike things. don’t fool yourself that he can ever understand you.’

‘I know what it’s like to be humiliated.’

‘any kind of fool can stumble into success once or twice.’

‘you two are such a bad match. can’t you have a single conversation without fighting?’

‘can’t you have a single conversation without fighting?’

‘clever people know when to give in.’

‘if you join his side, you’ll regret it.’

‘how little lives are worth in this war. theirs and ours, both.’

‘you have a lot of feelings in you.’

‘to win a hundred victories, a hundred battles is not the pinnacle of skill. to subdue the enemy without fighting is the pinnacle of skill.’

‘what someone is means nothing about what kind of person they are. truth is in actions.’

‘I didn’t mean to kill. at first.’

‘I wanted to live, so I took a life.’

‘all that means is we have to make this life count.’

‘who did you become, when we were apart?’

‘I might not know you, but I know what you want.’

‘you’ve opened my eyes. there are so many more options than I thought.’

‘you saw something in me that I didn’t know myself.’

‘what kind of man bothers to see potential in a woman, and encourages her despite her own doubts?’

‘rest assured that the only reason I helped you is because it gets me closer to what I want.’

‘you know what’s worse than suffering? not suffering, because you’re not even alive to feel it.’

‘learn to want something for yourself. not what someone says you should want. not what you think you should want.’

‘don’t go through life thinking only of duty. when all we have are these brief spans between our nonexistences, why not make the most of the life you’re living now?’

‘why not make the most of the life you’re living now? the price is worth it.’

‘maybe your suffering is worth whatever it is you want to achieve. but mine wouldn’t be.’

‘that’s all past history. I never think of it.’

‘do you believe that? that one day we’ll be out of a job, because of peace?’

‘have the courage to take power for yourself! do you think it will come to you if you wait?’

‘do you actually believe the idiocy that comes out of your mouth?’

‘you never accepted me for who I am; you never even saw everything I did for you, all because I’m not like (name)!’

‘you always push everyone away. what do you find in it, the loneliness? I couldn’t bear it.’

‘you trust too much. I admire you for it. that you prefer to drawn people closer, rather than push them away. but it’ll get you hurt.’

‘the worst injury you can do to a man is shame him. he can never forget it.’

‘it must have been painful, learning that true wisdom lies in obedience.’

‘are you always thinking do little of me that my defeats seem inevitable?’

‘i’d have thought you’d be the last to cry about (name’s) fate. why can’t we just stand back and let it happen?’

‘so you’re going to save (name) from himself?’

‘and here I thought I was the only one who got manipulated by pretty girls.’

‘why are you lowering yourself by dirtying your hands like this? let someone else take care of this trash.’

‘you were only ever a pretender. you only sat on a pretend throne.’

‘why do we have to play these awful games? what for?’

‘what does anyone want but to be on top, untouchable?’

‘who do you think I am, to think I can make anything happen in my own life? i’m a woman.’

‘I know you don’t want that life. a different one isn’t impossible.’

‘you have something I don’t; you feel for others, even the ones you don’t like.’

‘you want me to believe you’re different. that you can give me something different. but how can I trust that? I can’t.’

‘are you fool enough to believe the future will match your dream of it, with no consideration of the reality of the situation?’

‘I don’t admit anything! I don’t need to! you’ve already made up your mind!’

‘you can’t reason with fools who refuse to see reason.’

‘he was right about you. you’re worthless. worse than that; a curse.’

‘there are people who say that grief will hurt as much as it’s worth.’

‘there are people who say that grief will hurt as much as it’s worth. and there is nothing worth more than a father.’

‘(name) would never put himself on the line for me, or anyone else. but you, you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?’

‘i’ve wanted and struggled and suffered for that fate my whole life. I’m not going to stop now.’

‘you are trouble. I’ve never met anyone more trouble than you,’

‘are you so certain of the possibility of change? it seems to me the outcome is inevitable.’

‘what I want has nothing to do with who wins.’

‘every time the world turns its face from you, know it was because of me.’

‘stop blaming yourself and let yourself want it.’

‘stop blaming yourself and let yourself want it. i’ll give it to you.’

‘I have everything I need. whereas you, — you still need me.’

‘nobody expected anything of me. nobody ever cherished me.’

‘I cherish you.’

‘you think you understand me. but don’t forget it goes both ways. like knows like; like is connected to like. I understand you, too.’

‘pure emotions are the luxury of children and animals.’

‘more fool I am, to hope against hope for a change in his nature, that he might actually try to be useful.’

‘I presume you’re not here to kill me.’

‘you think you have power over me because you know a secret. but you don’t.’

‘how can something like that stop me, destroy me, when nothing else has?’

‘look at me and see the person who will win. the person who will rule.’

‘I presume you realize how much I dislike you. wasn’t the last where I said I wanted to kill you clear enough?’

‘you betray you ignorance in less than a sentence.’

‘how willing you were to think the worst of me. why aren’t you happier? i’m just being who you’ve always though I was. i’m giving you the ending you believed in.’

‘the times and means of our deaths have always been fixed, and this is yours.’

‘even the most shining future, if desired, will have suffering at its heart.’

‘i’ll follow you, as far as you want to go.’

‘I wasn’t born with the promise of greatness either. but I have it now. because I wanted it. because I’m strong, because I’ve struggled and suffered to become the person I need to me, and because I do want needs to be done.’

‘you said you’d be different. you lied to me.’

‘when you did this, did you even stop to think about how it might make me feel to bear witness for what you think is justified?’

‘I want what I want, and sometimes I’m going to have to do certain things to get it.’

‘you have two choices. you can rise with me, which I’d prefer. or if you don’t want what I want— you can leave.’

#rp sentence starters #rp prompts #rp memes #literature sentence starters #literature prompts #she who became the sun prompts #she who became the sun sentence starters #the radiant emperor prompts #the radiant emperor sentence starters