#i was just passing through and this made me go 👀👀👀 for some reason | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tarjapearce · 10 months

Note

Lips anon! I think one of the most intimate moments between mother and child is the first hair wash. Especially for curly babes. I'm just imagining the wife remembering Gabi's first wash while doing Benji's. Gentle scrubs and lots of suds. She puts him to bed, and Miguel comes home from work. They decide to bathe together since both the kids have been put to bed. Then they have their own intimate moment with her washing and massaging his scalp and stuff lol just something really fluffy I thought of

THIS IS SO SWEET OMG ❤️❤️❤️.

And the perfect chance for them to makeup 👀

A bit long ❤️ Hope you like 🥹.

Sudsy hands gently massaged Benjamin's head, his little feet splashing water, reacting with an uneven toothy grin whenever you cooed him. You kneeled by the enormous bathtub as you bathed him.

His rubber raccoon floating next to him along some other toys. Long lashes twinkled with the warm water, chubby and full cheeks moved as your baby babbled.

"Oh, I like the soapy water too, specially when it's warm." You rinsed his head carefully removing the baby scented shampoo from his head.

"There you go" You wrapped him in a raccoon themed towel, a matching set you had gotten in the baby apparel section at the super. You dried him well, put on a diaper and some comfy pjs.

You heard Miguel's heavy steps on the bathroom, preparing the tub for his use as you put little Benjamin to sleep and kissed him goodnight. You checked on Gabriela and kissed her forehead before tucking her in the sheets and closed her window.

Kids were asleep, and you only had one space to go back to. Hesitant steps made you approach your room that for some reason had turned into a silent battlefield. Ever since the fight, the tension between you and Miguel had only strengthened; but were careful enough to be a subtle as possible about it, the least you two understood much was that your children were definitely staying out of whatever was brewing.

You closed the door as you rummaged through your drawer of pjs, looking for one to change into. He passed next to you, grabbing a towel but stopped in his haste. You were tiny next to him, but with the current state of your emotions, you felt away. Away from his touch, away from his warmth, away from him.

He hated himself for creating this rift between you, but loathed even more the fact that you were giving him space. Being at odds with you didn't sit right in his chest. And the three days you had spent away from echother, yet in the same bed, made his heart to beat painfully. He'd never forget the way you were tucked on your side, wiping tears, shielding from whatever word he was about to spill. He didn't sleep that night.

He felt your body stirring awake around seven, ready to prepare Benjamin's bottles and wake Gabriela up for school.

His massive back faced you as you said your good mornings. There was no kisses on his cheeks to wake him up, No hug from behind and the nuzzle of your nose on his neck. None of your feathery eyelashes tickling the skin of his cheek. Just a meek and distant Good morning.

Gabriela was too busy with school to actually notice the awkward and forced interactions between you two. And for once he was grateful that Benjamin was... well. A baby.

Seeing him tense next to you made you recoil even more to your spot, not wanting to trigger another fight. His jaw clenched as his throat constricted. Even though you had said that you weren't afraid of him, your body language acted so cautiously around him. Wary to not make anything that would get him talking to you like the night you fought.

He didn't know who was to blame, his rising and brewing anger, or Alonzo. He sighed snd looked at you.

"Can... Can you" He trailed, unsure of his question, "Can you join me at the bathtub?" his voice gentle and careful.

The question threw you off guard, you stared at him for a couple of seconds and nodded.

He threw a couple of lavender bath bombs, your favorites, in the bathtub as the foam bubbles were rising. You removed your clothes and wrapped yourself in a towel. You were the first one in getting in. He joined you a couple of minutes later. You were across him, the foam almost engulfing you as he sat in front of you.

The warmth of the water made your tense muscles to relax slightly. His hand caressed your forearm and pulled you closer to him. Face to face as some water splashed on the floor. He was warmer than the water, a touch you had longed for the past three days.

Tears welled up in your already glossy eyes, he cupped your face and wiped out your eyes.

"Im sorry." His forehead colliding softly against yours, breath fanning over your lips.

"I just... What is going on, Miguel? Have... I done something-"

"No. no. Far from that. I've been an idiot. Me he comportado como un completo imbécil y en el proceso te lastimé. También a Gabi." (I've been an ass and I hurted you and Gabi in the process.)

You didn't have to know spanish at full to know he was admitting his mistakes.

"Im just worried, Miguel. I don't know what is bothering you or where this anger comes from, but... seeing you punching that man-"

"Scared you?"

"A bit. Yeah."

He casted his gaze down, shame washing over him.

"It's... so much going on that, seeing that man touching you was the last straw. My job is transferring me to another unit without consulting me, the house renovations are surely taking a good chunk of the savings, and... Gabriel is just... he barely talks to me anyways."

You grabbed a washcloth and soaked in showel gel, then began gently lathering up his torso with it, as if washing away his worries.

"Maybe he is just busy, you both have demanding jobs."

"I don't feel like I'm doing a good job as a husband and a father." he blurted

You nearly gasped at his confession, and cupped his face, conveying all your love with a single touch.

"Mostly of the time I come home you're ready to put Benjamin on his crib, Gabriela is too tired to play and... you." You shook his head and kissed him.

"No. Don't say that, please." you broken voice made his eyes snap at you.

"Gabriela and Benjamin love you. So do I. Is because you work so hard we try our parts as well. We try making things easier on you because I know it's hard."

"Still isn't an excuse to hurt you and my daughter."

"All I am asking is for you to tell me when something is bothering you. We are a team, Miguel." Your hands made him look at you, and you kissed him softly.

"I am here. I am your wife. We are a team. We don't do things solo anymore okay?"

He took your hand and kissed it, then twirled you around so your back was resting against his broad chest. His frame engulfing you.His arms securing you as his lips kissed your side of the head.

"I hate when we fight."

"Hm. Same." you nodded as your fingers entwined with his.

"I promise to do better. To communicate more."

He grabbed the washcloth and gently washed your arm to then kiss your neck

"Can't lose you over stupid shit."

"You won't. I love you too much to give you up so easily." His hands gently caked a bit of your rose scented shampoo on your head, dexterous fingers massaging your scalp with devotion. His chest finally got rid of that constricting and choking feeling.

"Still, I'm sorry."

"I accept your apologies. I'm sorry too. Should have talked to you sooner instead of just... letting this to grow bigger."

He nipped at your earlobe and kissed your cheek, peppering it in affection.

"We good?"

"Only if you massage my shoulders." he chuckled at your petition and squeezed you tighter against him.

"Te amo, chaparrita." (I love you, little one.)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #💋 anon #Soccer Family ⚽🕷️#dad miguel o'hara

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ateezscupid · 1 year

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Could I request reader taking the Ateez' members virginity?👀

ATEEZ IMAGINES : losing their virginity

HYUNG LINE: psh, khj, jyh, kys

WARNINGS: sub!ateez, dom!fem reader, soft!dom, losing virginity, begging, unprotected sex, vanilla sex, oral (f rec), pet names, miss/mommy kink, masturbation

A/N: i’ll turn any of these into fics! some might be short because i got super lazy

SEONGHWA sub!hwa

“i want you to be my first.” he said. “i-i want to do this with you, i wanna have my first time with you.”

“seonghwa-”

“w-we don’t even have to do prepare or anything! i-i have condoms and i know you take birth control because they help with your cramps. b-but i know you’re not… on your cycle.”

“i’m—i’m not.” you were surprised by how much he knew. you two shared everything with each other, though. “well, i do have some birth control with me now. condoms are so uncomfortable.”

“they’re uncomfortable?” seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows. he’s never even worn a condom before.

“have you…never worn one?” he shook his head in response. “well, guys say they’re uncomfortable, and it’s your first time. i’ll take some birth control real quick.”

“so we’re—we’re gonna do this?” hwa stammered. “we’re gonna do this really?”

“yes,” you giggle. “just wait here, i’ll go take some.”

seonghwa nodded and sat on your bed, fiddling his thumbs and taking slow breaths. he was absolutely sure about this. losing his virginity to his best friend, as well as his crush, he was sure he wanted to do this. and as nervous as he was, he was still a bit excited. would it feel different from his hand? probably. would it be like the videos he saw? he had so many questions he needed to be answered.

seonghwa could hear you doing something in the bathroom, but didn’t get up. you opened the door to the bathroom and came out in just your underwear. he could’ve passed out at that very moment.

“y-you’re so…pretty.” he huffs. you smile and walk over, pushing him back onto the bed and pulling his pants down again.

“so how do you wanna do this? do you want me on top or on the bottom?”

“o-on top.”

“hm. you’re so cute.” you smile and take your underwear off, throwing them onto the ground and putting your hands at the hem of his pants. you took them off completely then took his boxers off, slowly climbing on top of him and beginning to straddle him. he was so mesmerized by you, you were so beautiful to him.

hwa held your hips as you lift them and grips them tightly, jolting a bit when your wet folds pressed against his tip. you looked up at him. he looked so adorable beneath you.

“are you absolutely sure you want to do this? it just…happened so suddenly, i don’t wanna rush you into this.”

“i’m really sure i wanna do this.” seonghwa bit his lip. “i really really wanna do this.”

“okay… i’m going down now,” you place your hands on his chest and carefully lower yourself down onto his cock, clenching around him as soon as he made it inside. the hold on your hips tightened as he took in a breath.

seonghwa hoped you didn’t feel his heart beating through his chest at that moment.it was better than anything he had ever imagined. you were so warm and wet, and contracting around him trying to adjust to his size. just when you were about to talk to him, he was breathing heavily and mumbling incoherent words. you patted him on the cheek and giggled.

“hwa?” you tap him on the nose. “i’m… f-fuck, i’m gonna move now. okay?”

he couldn’t help but moan. your skin was so much softer than he had imagined, and this, again, felt so much better than he thought it would. he was drowning in pure pleasure. the only reason his eyes were closed was so he didn’t cum too fast. he felt it bubbling in his stomach.

“p-please… please move, mommy..”

“mommy?” you raised an eyebrow. when you pointed out our, he blushed heavily and hid his face with the back of his hand, his palm facing you. you chuckle softly and start moving your hips slowly, his own bucking.

“you’re adorable.”

HONGJOONG sub!joong

“joongie, look at me.” you turn his head over by his chin and peck him on the lips, continuing your movements on his cock. this would normally be the farthest you two would go. he’d eat you out, you’d suck him off and that would be it. but today, he was ready.

“i…” hongjoong whined, leaning into you. “m-mommy, i wanna—i wanna be i-inside you…”

“you will, joongie. but i told you to wait, didn’t i?” you kissed his cheek and stroked him faster, running your thumb over his tip. he was squirming underneath your hand, clearly overwhelmed by what you were doing.

hongjoong was already overstimulated since you were switching from handjobs to blowjobs for the past hour. he didn’t remember how many orgasms he’s had, but he knew it was a lot. of course, he didn’t have any complaints. he liked being played with like this. your hands were so smooth across his skin, he couldn’t get enough of them.

“m-miss please,” he pouts. “i-i wanna be i-inside you, please. i-i’m ready, i said i was ready!”

“i know!” you sigh and slow your hand movements down. “if you’re really ready, then i’ll let you inside. okay? do you want me to be on top or bottom?”

“can…can you be on bottom?” joong was so cute when he was nervous. you nod and lay down, spread your legs, and place a pillow underneath your head. you were prepared for this. not only because you’ve had sex before and you weren’t a virgin, but you prepared by using a dildo as much as you could. hongjoong was big.

“yeah…it might be better if i’m on top.” you utter. “joong, you’re fucking huge.”

“a-am i?” he looked at you with the same pretty eyes he always looked at you with, beady and filled with lust. he was too innocent for his own good. “sorry, i—”

“don’t be sorry, joongie. now get in front,”

he settles in front of you, hands planted on the mattress and rubbing his tip on your clit. he flinched just from the contact. you reach down and grab ahold of his cock, pulling him closer with your other hand and throwing your head back as he entered. god, he made you feel full.

“fuck, joongie…” you choked on your moans when he entered. the feeling of being stretched was something you were beginning to like. “joong?”

he was in his own little world, trying his best not to cum while also enjoying how tight you were around him. this new feeling; new sensation, was a little too much for him. he slowly began to lay on top of you, putting his body weight on yours and moaning softly into your neck.

“joong~” you coo in his ear. before you could even process it fully, he came inside of you. his hips stuttered and he moaned your name repeatedly. he was so sensitive it was adorable.

“s-sorry, sorry, i’m sorry…” hongjoong huffed in your ear. “t-too good, really good.”

“it’s okay, hongjoong, take your time..”

YUNHO sub!yunho

“y-yunho—fuck,” you grind your hips faster onto his face, completely taken over my pleasure at this point. his fingers only made her moan louder since they were moving at a fast pace inside of your cunt, pressing on your sensitive spots and making you whine.

“so good,” yunho’s words were muffled since you were sitting on his face, and he didn’t have a problem with it. if he could do this all day and night, he would. his tongue was all over your folds, occasionally prodding at your entrance and causing you to writhe in pleasure. it was even better when he messed with your clit.

“f-fuck, yunho i’m gonna cum!” you moaned loudly. he didn’t let up, continuing to eat you like a starved man. “s-stop, i wanna—i wanna do it on you!”

“huh?” his ears perk up and he lifts his head. “what do you mean?”

“what do you think i mean? unless you’re ready of course… but this is normally how far we get. we don’t do much afterward.”

“i-i just haven’t decided if i was ready or not. that’s all.” he gulped. “are you ready…?”

“i’m not a virgin, yunho. of course i’m ready. i’m just wondering if you are? i’m not going to rush you if you aren’t.”

“um,” he gulps. “i… i don’t know.”

“it’s okay, it’s fine. i won’t rush you or anything.” you were definitely disappointed, but respected his wishes. “but… i do wanna suck you off.”

“o-oh, um, okay.” he took his big hands away from your thighs and crawled toward you. for a man who was bigger than you, he acted like a baby who needed attention 24/7. you gave him a quick kiss on the lips and kissed down his body, stopping when your face was in contact with his boner. he shuddered as you pulled his pants down, small moans escaping his parted lips and all you did was palm him.

“it feels good?” your ego only grew when he nodded. “i cant wait to tease you, baby.” / “c-can i just be inside you now?”

“…” your hand stops. “you don’t wanna—“

“don’t have me beg anymore than i have to. please.” he sniffles. yunho was so adorable acting like this. of course you wanted him inside you as much as he did, but you thought messing with him would be enough. apparently it wasn’t. your pants and underwear were already off, so there wasn’t anything you had to take off.

yunho quickly pulls his shorts and boxers down to his knees. he was just full of surprises because god, was he big. you prop yourself up on your knees and hover yourself over his cock, allowing him to take a few breaths before you actually did it. you lower yourself and slide into his length, a relieved sigh leaving you as you did so.

yunho didn’t expect it to feel this good. it was better than he imagined. he felt all tingly inside and didn’t know how to react at first. all he knew was he felt good. really good.

“p-please…” he breathes in, clearly overwhelmed and trying his best to control himself. “p-please move.”

YEOSANG sub!yeo

“yeosang, we cant just fuck in a closet!” you tried your best to stay quiet as you spoke to him. whatever he had drank at the party you two attended was messing with his head.

“please y/n, we’re not gonna be home for a few hours and i wanna get this in at least for a few minutes.”

yeosang never usually acted like this. he was always so shy at parties and cling to your side because he wasn’t the type of person to enjoy parties. but now, here he was, dry jumping against your leg and whimpering into your shoulder. he was so cute when he was desperate. you assumed he was acting like this because he was drunk, but you couldn’t recall him drinking anything.

“yeosang…we can’t really do anything but grind on each other since you never told me if you were ready or not…” you get down on your knees.

“w-what are you doing?” he watched you get down and pulled his shirt up to see you.

“what do you think? i’ll suck you off then we can get home and finish there! duh.” you smiled as you unbuckled his belt and threw it behind you. yeosang pulled his pants down a bit and you giggled happily. he never understood why you’d feel good sucking him off, but he never complained. he loves it just as much as you did.

“mmm, you’ve been hard this whole time? you’re so cute, sangie.” you grinned, stroking him gently and pulling his boxers down. you didn’t waste a second putting the tip on your mouth, sucking off the pre-cum and wrapping both hands around his cock. he was still so sensitive, even though he’d received blowjobs from you plenty of times before. which made him think, yeosang’s only ever gotten blowjobs or handjobs from you with the occasional dry humping or grinding on each other. losing his virginity in a closet wasn’t the best idea, but he didn’t want to wait any longer.

“y/n…” he spoke through light moans and grunts. “can… can we do it in here? like, actually do it instead of you just giving me a blowjob or grinding on me?”

you popped him out of your mouth and stood, removing your hands from his cock. “you mean… you want to have your first time in here? not somewhere more romantic like our house? or our bedroom…?”

“i’m fine with doing it here…” he tugs at the skirt you had on. “besides, the risk is what makes it—better?” this was news to you finding out yeosang had a kink for this. you made a mental note of what he said and nod afterward, pushing him down by the shoulders and getting on top of him. you roll your skirt up and push your underwear to the side, hovering over his cock.

“are you ready?” you ask and he nods in response. “and are you absolutely sure you wanna do it here?”

he nods again and you lower yourself onto his cock, choking on your moans and shutting your eyes tightly. you never expected yeosang to stretch you out this much but you were loving every bit of it.

“how does, fuck … how does it feel?”

“w-warm…” he stuttered. “and, soft. i love it, i love you, p-please move…”

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toournextadventure · 1 year

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Beyond love your writing, you’ve honestly made my crush on Wednesday grown 10x worse.

I love the winged reader you write about, but after reading trouble maker I gotta get something about Wednesday with a reader who has pyrokinetic abilities. Plus some slight anger issues too. 👀 Please and thank you.

Did you say angry trouble-making pyro reader? 👀

damn pyro

The walk down to the police station was silent, as usual. Wednesday was thankful it wasn’t raining this time, it gave her the opportunity to walk the 25 minutes to Jericho. In return, those 25 minutes gave her enough time to plan, in excruciating detail, how she was going to kill you and hide the body.

In your defense, there had been a few times that you had been called to pick her up from the Sheriff's office. For miniscule things, of course, nothing that truly mattered. But she supposed this made you even, did it not? Although in her defense, this also was not the first time she had been called to pick you up from the Sheriff’s office.

The lady at the front desk - Wednesday had learned a few trips ago that her name was Angie - didn’t even look up before waving Wednesday further into the office. Everyone gave her polite waves as she expertly made her way to the holding cells where, lo and behold, there you were. Right where you looked the most natural.

Long ago, the officers of Jericho had learned that you being cell-bound was only a formality. Truly if you had wanted to, you would’ve found a way out by now. And as you lay on the singular bench, playing with the fire in your hands, Wednesday let out a sigh at her own realisation.

Her picking you up was also nothing but a formality.

You turned your head quickly when Wednesday cleared her throat. The fireball you had been tossing into the air fell right back into your hand and faded out, replaced only by the brightness of your smile. Now that you were facing her, she could see the beginnings of a black eye and crusted blood around your nose.

Not an ounce of pity made its home in her heart.

“Who was it this time?” She asked as you sat up and faced her.

“Some punk tourist,” you said with a shrug. “Looked at me wrong.”

Typical, Wednesday thought as you refused to show any sort of remorse for your actions. If she had to admit it, it wasn’t the most ridiculous reason you had started a fight. You were kind, almost disgustingly so, but your temper was nothing to scoff at. A temper, Wednesday had realised after Parents’ Weekend, that you had stolen from your father.

“Welcome back, Addams.”

With the slightest turn of her head, Wednesday watched Sheriff Galpin step closer until he stood beside her, looking at you through the cell bars. He looked tired and not the least bit surprised. Good. He was starting to catch on.

“May we go?” Wednesday asked.

“Just get back to Nevermore,” Sheriff Galpin sighed, already digging for the cell key on the keyring.

You passed Galpin a ridiculous smile - Wednesday could see the split on your bottom lip - before letting Wednesday guide you out of the Sheriff’s office. He called something after you that sounded suspiciously like “please try to behave.” Judging by the little chuckle you let out, you weren’t going to abide by his wishes.

The whole walk back to Nevermore was quiet, just as the walk into Jericho had been. You lit fire after fire between your fingers, occasionally throwing a little fireball into the air and watching with a grin as it faded into nothing. Wednesday half expected you to catch the forest on fire, but you were careful. This time.

“Sit down,” Wednesday demanded once you had made it back to your own dorm. Your roommate had probably noticed your absence by now and realised the cause; she was smart enough to stay out.

“You act like this is the first time,” you huffed, but you dutifully sat on your bed as commanded.

“One day, Galpin won’t let you out.” Her fingers carded through everything in your little freezer until grabbing the ice pack, throwing it in your direction. She heard your “oof” as it connected with its target.

“He’ll always let me out.” Your smile could be heard even without her turning away from the first aid kit. It was maddening. “He likes me too much.”

But she didn’t grace you with an answer, instead just moving to sit in front of you and roughly cleaning the dark, dried blood from around your nose. You winced and tried to pull away but with a grip of your chin, Wednesday forced you to remain still. Even through all of your grunts and groans and senseless protests, she continued until not a speck could be found.

“How does the tourist look?” Wednesday asked as she forcefully pressed the ice pack to your eye. She ignored that noise as well.

“Hell of a lot worse than me,” you said with a humourless grin that Wednesday had come to learn meant trouble.

She happened to love that smile.

“Good,” she said. With only a moment of thought, she leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips; she could taste the faint trace of blood from the split of your bottom lip.

“Do I get this treatment after every fight?” You asked after she pulled back.

“Only if you win,” she answered.

Your smile turned sadistic as your gaze drifted to her lips.

“I can work with that.”

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #requests

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deepestnightcolor · 17 days

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Hi! I love your writing and how you picture Sam 💛 Could I make a request? Like Sam taking the farmer to Zuzu City? Could be something romantic? Something else 👀 Sam sharing part of his past maybe? It's up to you, thank you 💖

ᴀ/ɴ: Hehe...So I can explain, really! No, I can't really. I don't know what happened here, my fingers had a mind of their own and this just happened! I hope you will enjoy! Thank you so, so much for your request and the compliment <3 I love writing Sammy Wammy!

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 2608 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: trauma, angst, daddy issues(?) THERE'S ALSO FLUFF AND SOFTNESS!

☾ ʙʟɪɴᴅɪɴɢ ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ ☽

He was fidgeting next to you in his bus seat, and he had been for the last half an hour, worsening the closer the two of you got to Zuzu City. It was either his leg bouncing up and down, or his fingers wandering through his hair, just to comb it back into place moments later. Every now and then he shifted around on the seat as he tried to get comfortable, just to return to bouncing his leg.

You had been watching Sam, your hand wrapped around his, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin. You had rarely ever seen him so nervous. Energetic, yes, but this was pure and simple nervousness. Still, you hadn’t dared to ask about it just now, knowing that he would tell you about it when he was ready.

“Oh, look, a baby cow!” You called out, leading your intertwined hands to the window to point at the passing baby animal. A chuckle rumbled from next to you, a pair of blue eyes being mirrored by the window. “Like you don’t have some running around your farm almost every year?” He teased back, making you smile at his reflection. “Well, you see me almost every day and still get excited like a lovesick puppy when you see me, don’t you?” Another chuckle, lighter than the first one had been. His chin found its way on your shoulder so he could follow the blur of scenery with you; his voice now incredibly close to your ear. “Guilty as charged and yet blameless,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, pressing a soft kiss to it, falling back into his seat.

Sam had surprised you with his wish to go to Zuzu City pretty much the evening before. He wanted to show you something, he had explained. Refresh some memories, maybe. He had been very vague in his reasoning, but the look in his eyes had told you everything you needed to know; that he needed you there with him. And who were you to refuse your Sammy boy? You had gotten up a little earlier than usual to care for all the animals, even early enough to get under the shower and throw on a fresh change of clothes before meeting Sam at the bus stop. He hadn’t been nervous then, but there had been a rubber band around his hand, which meant there was something he didn’t want to forget. Instead of asking him, you had pressed a kiss to his lips, enjoying his bubbly conversation as you got on the bus. However, his flow of words had slowly begun to cease the further you had gone from Pelican Town, and instead, his nervous fidgeting had picked up.

“Look, Zuzu.” His words were barely audible. A mere whisper, almost drowning in the sound of the growling motor. Still, you had heard it, and you had looked ahead to see the city building up in the distance. The sight always filled you with a feeling of dread and thankfulness. Memories of Joja cooperate bleeding into the feeling of hope you had when you took the leap and started your journey to become a farmer. You were pretty certain these conflicted feelings would have an impact on your voice as well, but Sam’s was filled with a hint of fear, an edge of respect. It made you wrap your arm around him, press a kiss to his cheek. Whispering “You’ll be fine, I am here,” in his ear. Sam gave you a smile of gratitude, almost shooting up from his seat when the bus came to a halt.

Hesitation kept him in place, but then his hand reached out for yours again, only moving forward when he felt the warmth of your palm against his, and how your fingers ghosted over his skin. He wordlessly took the bag you had brought, shouldering it while the two of you hopped off the bus.

There was no need to ask the blond what you would do now; his long legs set a fast pace, leaving you no other option but to follow. You stumbled through streets that you had once known and that seemed to be natural to Sam. He weaved the two of you through the onslaught of pedestrians, working against the flow like he had never done anything that wasn’t this. Every five steps he looked over his shoulder to check if you were still following him, as if his hand didn’t hold you to him like a leash. Not that you minded, quite the contrary; While Sam seemingly had no problem navigating through the masses of bodies, through the twists and turns of the city, you certainly weren’t used to this anymore. It was loud and fast and felt like everyone was pulling you away from your beloved, like they were tugging at you. Too many bodies, too much noise, and you could have sworn that the two of you were getting lost in the city’s gaping mouth- until you weren’t.

Sam had abruptly halted in front of an apartment complex, his eyes searching the rows of windows for a particular one. Suddenly, his hand flew forward, pointer finger leading your gaze to a window that seemed like all the others, but had the man’s finger trembling. “That’s…That’s where it all started.”

If this had been a video game, you would have been sure that any moment now a soft soundtrack would start playing, underlining the impact that this place had taken on Sam, but also pointing out the trust he must feel toward you to be sharing this with you right now.

“We were living here. That was the window to my room – if you squint closely, you can still see the imprints my stickers have left on the window…I put them there when mom wasn’t looking. We didn’t get them off- not until we moved, anyway. When we moved they complied almost immediately. It felt hopeless when I peeled them off. Like the last act of rebellion was giving in…”

He bit around his lower lip, obviously considering if he should go on. Really share this with you. What if you thought he was weird? Melodramatic? But then there were your words. So soft, so understanding. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me…But I am here. To listen. To support you.” Since there wasn’t any music, you pressed around his hand, trying to underline how serious you were. It seemed enough for your boyfriend.

“We moved around a lot, you know? And I always…Ya know, I always was the class clown in school, but that didn’t mean I had many friends,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “moving around a lot meant changing schools a lot. And this… this was the first place I erm…I felt good to be at. I didn’t feel completely hopeless when entering like I did everywhere else. We got settled here. Mom really worked on making this place our place. It felt like…Yes, like we would settle. Even my grades got better, hah! I don’t think I ever got grades that high again.” His knuckles turned white with how hard he was holding on to his backpack strap, the fond smile that had been adorning his lips now a bitter grimace. “It was summer. Hot and loud, like today. I think Vince was about three when we got the letter. I picked it up, and it felt like…Like it was fucking burning my hand. I don’t know. It felt weird, it gave me the urge to throw it away. But it was my father’s, and who was I to throw my father’s stuff away? Especially a letter? Now I wish I did, but- but I didn’t. I brought it to him, I was happy that awful shit of paper was off of my skin and the feeling slowly stopped prickling on my hand…But when I saw my father’s face. Fuckin’ hell. He looked at me like I had told him I had gotten three girls pregnant and was running away from them – so disappointed and angry. He told me to go to my room, and really, fucking really, I had never been so confused in my LIFE.”

Sam had now begun wandering up and down in front of the building like an animal caught and chained to a wall, too nervous and fierce to sit still and accept its fate, but too weak to break free and run away. You followed his steps, attempting to show him that you were here by kissing his arm and sometimes knuckles, by just humming and caressing him, and it seemed to work as he slowed his steps.

“Turns out – he was called in for the war. I delivered the news that my father was going to war, you know? My dad, a garbage man. Drafted for a war. From then on out, it was like doom had moved in with us. Mom and dad kept having screaming matches in the bedroom. My mom didn’t know what she should do, my dad screaming back that he would serve, as that’s what he needed to do. For this country, for us. My dad, barely able to look me in the eye anymore. Me, not knowing what I had done, why I was to blame.”

There was a smile on his face, this time sour. “Can you believe blaming your kid for having to go to war?” He sighed, and you only now realized that he was sweating. You felt helpless, as if you saw the little blond boy right in front of you, so pained, so confused- “I tried to make it up to him first because I felt like I had to. Showing him my best grades, showing him the new skills I had learned. Showing him projects I started, but he didn’t- he told me he had more important things at hand. The screaming matches kept up, and I- I don’t know. I stopped paying attention at school again. The friends I had were the only comfort I had – my dad apparently hated me, and my mom was so busy with Vincent and preparing for my dad’s absence…Don’t get me wrong. She did everything for us. But- I didn’t feel seen. I felt invisible at home, but I had my friends. At some point, though, they sat me down and told me we would move. To Pelican Town, where it was safe. Safer than here, at least. I threw a complete temper tantrum, kicked the table, yelled at them. I even ran out on the streets. When my mom found me the next morning, she had a similar look in her eyes as dad, but she was…defeated. Done.”

He inhaled sharply, a quiver making his voice unsteady. “. We packed our stuff, we packed our car and then we went to Pelican Town, it didn’t matter how much I begged. It didn’t matter that I barricaded myself in the room. It didn’t matter that I told them that this was home. We packed, and we went. The car ride was so, so silent. Eerily so. Not even the radio played. I…erm. I believed that at least the doom that moved in with us would stay behind, in that small apartment in the city. But it followed us. Mom and dad didn’t scream anymore. They seemed…done. I think the implications of dad going to war, the possibilities…They finally kicked in. They kicked in for me, too. What I had delivered to my dad that day. What it meant. What it could lead to.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Sam.” “I know that now. I have always supressed this memory, always supressed that guilt. My dad even hugged me when he had to go and told me he was sorry. That he loved me. But… the ghost of these last memories here have been haunting me, and…and I needed to let them go. I needed to bring them back here and let them go.” Sam finally turned around to you, allowing you to see his face. Tears had left a trail behind on his heated-up cheeks, and more were falling from these precious blue eyes that you had fallen in love with. You wrapped your arms around him, which had something snap in Sam. His shoulders tensed as he sobbed into your neck, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt, scared you would fade just like the good memories in that apartment had, good slowly being replaced by the darkness of the threatening unknown. But you wouldn’t fade.

You allowed Sam to cry in your arms, holding his shaking body to yours, making yourself his rock in the turbulent seas of his emotions, making yourself steady for him so he could break down. Sam held you and sobbed, tears flowing into your shirt. “Wasn’t your fault, Sammy,” you whispered, kissing his head.

You didn’t know how long you were standing there, holding Sam to you while he cried. You didn’t care, either. At some point, though, loud sobs ebbed into soft sniffles, the stream of tears ceasing against your soaked shirt. Sam’s shoulders slumped, his grip on you slowly loosening, instead holding you now as well. He held you like you held him, before slowly lifting his head. He swallowed thickly, slowly looking down at you, who was still holding him. You were still there. You smiled up at him, rubbing your thumb over his wet cheeks. “How about…we replace those memories with some good ones? Some that make you feel good when thinking of Zuzu?” Sam didn’t have much time to answer you, because this time, you dragged him along. If you still remembered correctly, there was an old music shop around the main street somewhere, and you had the feeling some sweet music would do your pained beloved just right. His eyes went big when he saw the shop, his pace almost immediately picking up. “Fuck, I always wanted to come here!” You laughed as you followed along, allowing your boyfriend’s sudden burst of excitement luring you in. You were watching your boyfriend stare at the records in awe as he wandered the aisles. “Look, babe! The song that reminds me of you!” He called out, holding up a record. Cursive letters revealed Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love”, blue eyes that still held a hint of the boy you had seen just mere moments before now slowly sparkling at you. Like sunshine catching in freshly fallen raindrops. And Yoba, how you loved him.

It had taken hours for you to wander the city, your bag on Sam’s back had been joined by several others you had gathered on your shopping spree. One of his hands was still holding onto yours as you passed the house again. The blond slowly came to an halt mustering the building with a sense of melancholy. He had had to leave a safe space, but he had found new ones. In Seb, in his house in Pelican Town, in Vincent, and most importantly; in you. Finally, he was ready to let go.

He drew in a long breath, his eyes wandering to the window above you one last time. With a tilt of his head, he realized that the imprint of the stickers he had once left there were no longer there; faded like the curtains that fluttered in the wind. “I…I think I am ready to go.” “Are you? We can stay for a little longer if you want.” He shook his head, wiping over his eyes. “I am ready to go home.”

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #sdv fanfic #sdv sam #sdv sam x reader #fanfic

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ishipmutualrespect · 2 years

Text

The peace ring Materpost / Timeline

The peace ring

was first seen in 2013 when Harry and Louis left Rosso after a dinner there. For this reason it’s head canon that this is one of the rings that Louis gave to Harry.

For years he wore it on the middle finger of his right hand. Harry wore it all the time and he very rarley took it off, aside from when he was working out/running or travelling/working (he didn’t always wear the peace ring for photoshoots but he wore it more often than not - for example the ring was there during Gucci or Vogue photoshoots)

For a long time he used to wear the peace ring in a special combination with his rose ring (here you can read about how Louis started following “The Great Frog” - the ring was from this shop - on Twitter just before Harry started wearing the rose ring):

This combinations symbolized Louis’ dagger (with the red spot on top) going through Harry’s rose.

In 2019 he started to wear the peace ring on his left hand instead of his right hand.

One of the first times that he wore the peace ring on the left hand was at the ONO for Fine Line on December 16th, 2019. On his other hand made his first appearance the Crown ring (Stevie Nicks gifted this ring to him that same night)

The crown ring became then one of the rings that Harry kept on wearing the most in combination with the peace ring.

For example he wore both rings (peace ring on the left hand) during Watermelon Sugar and Falling MV

And at the Brits on February 18th, 2020.

It’s at the Grammy’s on March 14th, 2021 that Harry stopped wearing the peace ring. He started to wear the Bird ring (it’s a ring with a similar antique style as the one that Alessandro Michele loaned to him in 2018 but it’s a different ring and with a different bird art) instead and alongside the Crown ring. The same thing happened at the Brits on May 11th, 2021.

During his tour in the USA (here there’s a rings on tour post) a large stone ring made his appearance and Harry wore it on his left hand alongside the Bird ring on his right hand. SO STILL NO PEACE RING.

The only 2 exeptions were:

- in Denver on September 7th, 2021 when he wore the peace ring (!!!) after many months not wearing it at all. And we’ll see later how this will become very 👀👀👀

- in Boston on October 25th, 2021 when surprisingly he didn’t wear any rings

After that night, another 8 long months passed and finally on May 19th, 2022 the peace ring was back but that was for just one performance in New York

And we never saw the peace ring anymore until …

September 7th, 2022 (EXACTLY 1 YEAR AFTER Denver in September 7th, 2021!) during his show in New York. After this date Harry wore the ring 5 times (during his shows on September 8th, 10th, 14th and 15th, 2022 and at the My Policeman Premiere in Toronto on September 11th, 2022) making it a total of 6 times in a row (after a very long time)

We don’t know the reason why Harry wore the peace ring exactly 1 year after the Denver show on September 7th but we sure know that the number 7 is something that is becoming more and more seen lately (here a post with some of the many times).

In conclusion I just wanted to point out a couple of things:

- the first time he wore the peace ring again on September 7th, 2022 was after the Venice Film Festival (when he didn’t acknowledge Olivia at all and he totally didn’t see Louis who was in Italy as well) where he wore the bird ring and the stone ring (his latest usual combination, see also the tour)

- he didn’t wear any rings in a couple other occasions (the TPWK and Golden music videos)

I created a separate timeline post where I keep track of every time Harry wears the peace ring so that this masterpost will only be updated when/if things change. I also created this sideblog to post the pictures of every time Harry wears the ring (it’s gonna be easier for me to update the timeline post that way)

#long post #peace ring

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sw-33-ts-stuff · 1 year

Text

Welcome Back Wednesday

Wednesday X Reader

Part 2

Wednesday POV

During the break, I walked into our dorm to see a third bed added to our room pushed towards Enid's side.

My mother speaking quietly with the girl from earlier.

I cleared my throat raising an eyebrow as my mother turned to me.

"Girls this is your new roommate, Y/n Ramirez. Unfortunately some of the rooms are still under construction but I assure you, you couldn't get better roommates."

The girl turned to both Enid and myself, slightly pushing her glasses up her nose. She nodded to us. My mother left smiling as the girl began to unpack.

"So Y/n what do you do for fun?" I turned going to my typewriter slightly annoyed as Enid knew it was my writing time.

"Read." She muttered putting her suitcase under her bed before propping herself against some pillows and pulling her book out.

Enid sighed. "Great another chatterbox."

I felt the corner of my mouth quirk up just a bit before I turned my attention back to my writing. I heard the slight tapping of Thing walking over to the new girls bed. I glanced at Enid to see her smirking. Thing landed with a thump on the new girls book making her drop it.

"What the fuck?!" Enid laughed and I faltered in my writing. Thing began signing and before Enid or I could translate the girl spoke.

"I don't care what your name is, you made me lose my page."

Shocked Enid beckoned Thing over to her bed so they could gossip and do their manicures as the girl sighed picking her book back up and reading.

She was already becoming a more pleasant roommate than Enid and it hadn't even been an hour yet.

As time passed on Enid grew tired of the silence and went to meet up with Ajax.

As the door shut the room grew silent putting me at peace as well as Y/n based on her body language, the slight tension leaving her shoulders. I found myself staring for longer than I should've and went back to my novel.

My phone rang cutting through the silence.

Xavier

Hey wanna hang out? 👀

I rolled my eyes.

Wednesday

A throat cleared.

"I-I'm sorry to bother you I just wanted to ask if you could show me where the cafeteria is?" I looked to see it was around lunch time and stood quickly.

Turning from the door to find the girl still standing by my desk.

"Are you coming?" She nodded shuffling towards me and tripping. I caught her before she fell and froze.

*Vision*

"Desgracia! You're no longer part of this family!"

"I never was! You made sure to remind me everyday!"

It was Y/n and a man screaming. Her in the same straight jacket behind bars only this time the material began melting as her body grew red.

"I knew I should've left you on the doorstep." Y/n flinched sinking to the floor. A burn on the opposite side of her neck appearing.

"I wish you did."

*End of Vision*

"Wednesday?" The girl asked tentatively leaning over me. My eyes scanning her features to find her eyes weren't as dark as I'd originally thought.

"You're eyes are lighter than I thought." I shook my head sitting up. "Let's go."

"Hey!" Xavier appeared next to me. "Thought you didn't want to hang out?"

I glanced to the girl next to me as she looked around.

"I don't but obviously the new girl didn't know where the cafeteria was."

He nodded looking over to the girl and catching her eye.

"Hey I'm Xavier, I met your brother earlier." She looked at his hand then him. He slowly lowered his hand. For some reason her lack of response amused me.

"Thanks." She dismissed him turning to me. "Did you want to eat anything? My treat."

I felt the corner of my mouth quirk slightly at Xavier's stunned face.

I shrugged following the girl and grabbing a tray. Xavier storming off to the table with Enid, Ajax, Bianca and apparently Y/N's brother.

After paying she went to go sit at a different table and because I had nothing better to do I followed.

"I'm surprised you didn't want to sit with your brother." She flinched shrugging.

"I like being alone." I nodded understanding the benefits of solitude but my last vision led me to believe her reasons were not by choice.

Eugene came to sit by us already introducing himself.

"I'm Eugene, Wednesday and I are Hummers." Y/n looked to me with a raised eyebrow.

"Bee keeping?" I narrowed my eyes back at her.

"Yes." She chuckled.

"Didn't think that would be your thing." I felt my eyebrows furrow as Eugene interrupted our stare down.

"Not everyone appreciates the beauty of poisonous creatures."

The girl nodded when her brother came up.

"Hey y/n you didn't wanna sit with me?" He spoke to her but kept looking only at me his hand clamped down hard on Y/N's shoulder. Up close you could see the two had no similarities whatsoever. If not for a shared last name one would assume they were nothing more than strangers to each other.

"I'm-" I cut her off.

"Not interested."

Xavier came up as Elijah went to open his mouth again.

"I'm into the goth thing, it's hot. If you're free maybe we can meet up."

His sister scoffed putting her hand on his. It began to glow a bright red and the boy yelled.

"What the fuck?"

"You're being a pig and last I checked you have a girlfriend." Her head tilted as she raised her eyebrow at the taller boy. He looked down glaring at her before turning to Xavier who was scowling at him.

"Oh my bad is this your girl?" He began to grow red at the question and thankfully the bell rang indicating our next class.

Y/n and I were walking to class silently, before she cleared her throat head hanging low as she slid her glasses further up.

"I'm sorry about-"

"It's obvious your brothers compensating.”

She bit her lip stifling a chuckle.

"Hey Wednesday come sit with me!" Enid grabbed the me by the arm dragging me to her desk. I glanced back at Y/n who took a seat at an empty desk before glaring down at Enid's hand.

"Sorry." She grinned. "But how great is it that we have this class together too?"

I looked around. "I take it the boyfriends not in this class."

The werewolf turned bright red. "No."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #Wednesday #Wednesday Addams

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erin-bo-berin · 2 years

Note

hello! like everyone else I’ve been totally glued to your Steve fics lately. your take on his character/mannerisms are perfect!!

I have a request, if you’re interested: reader’s horny as hell and it’s all Steve’s fault. (personally I’m a sucker for future dad Steve/pregnant reader but if that’s not your vibe feel free to come up with another reason why we’re blaming him). Anyway, normally Steve would love nothing more than to help you out but today he’s actually working at his desk on some project due tomorrow morning so you’ll just have to wait until he’s done before he can attend to your needs. But that’s not going to stop you from trying your best begging/teasing techniques throughout the day, saying things that rile him up, touching him, blaming him for the situation, and appealing to his very deep need to take care of you.

After a long day putting up with you/attempting to stay strong, you finally say or do something that sends Steve over the edge. (He actually knocks over his desk chair as he mauls you.) But Steve’s going to have to pay you back for all the teasing you’ve unleashed on him all day by taking his damn time.

smut city, pls!

Ooh now THIS is appealing! But yes I’m all for having horny pregnant reader. I mean good lord if I had that to look at every day, I’d be popping out kids every year because I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off him 🤣

Let’s pretend this is how Steve looks after a good fuck 👀

All Your Fault

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Smut (lots of smut, it gets pretty filthy I’m sorry), Pregnant Reader

You thought you knew what to expect during pregnancy.

Morning sickness, cravings, weight gain, fatigue, you get the drift. You even knew to expect mood swings throughout the pregnancy.

What you didn’t expect was to be as horny as a wild animal in mating season.

You were nearing the end of your fourth month of pregnancy. The nausea had dissipated, your energy had increased some and you felt better than you had in weeks. Your body was growing and changing daily, making room for the life that was growing exponentially fast with each week passed.

You’d finally made it through the stage where you no longer look bloated, but we’re starting to sport a small, noticeable bump. Most likely it was going to double in size by the end of next month, but for now, you treasured the baby bump, knowing you and Steve’s baby was growing like he or she should be.

You were taken back at first by how high your sex drive was at this point in pregnancy. You craved him as badly, if not more than the snacks and treats you’d been consuming lately.

Usually, Steve was more than happy to help you out. You were sure he was even more thrilled than you were about the extra intimacy. But this lately was wild, almost animalistic, lust-filled sex. Ironically enough, you hadn’t had much of that since the night you likely conceived.

But today, Steve had to be an adult. Or well, he had work to do.

Keith had unfortunately—much to your dismay—tasked Steve to do the inventory numbers at Family Video, leaving the task until last minute. Thus, he gave the annoying job to Steve, who had been hunched over his desk, hard at work all day, trying to finish the job before they were due in tomorrow, at the beginning of the month.

“Steeeeve,” you whined, “Can’t you take just a tiny break?”

“Baby, you know I’d love to,” he sighed heavily, pushing his hair out of his face, “But I still have a ways to go if I want to finish this before tonight.”

You sighed dramatically, flopping on the couch across the living room from him. You rubbed your belly soothingly.

“Daddy’s being mean to us, baby,” you pouted.

“Daddy’s also trying to get this nightmare of a project over with,” he mumbled in return, “Also, mommy is being over dramatic.”

“It’s your fault I’m like this,” you huffed.

“I think it’s more like the hormones from pregnancy, not me.”

“Is it possible to die from horniness?” you asked, dead serious.

“Babe, if it was, you would’ve killed me years ago,” he responded, his back still turned to you.

You stuck your tongue out at his back playfully, telling yourself you were going to concentrate on the game show that was on TV, but it didn’t last long at all.

Your eyes returned to your boyfriend, watching him. Your eyes slid along his back, knowing the feel of the muscles in them moving under your fingers as he moved above you. You could see the faint sign of his leg bouncing through the loose, gray pants he wore.

His butt looked amazing in those pants somehow, but so did his dick. It was amazing how they seemed to be loose fitting yet hugged the parts of him that you really shouldn’t be thinking of right now.

Then your mind wandered to his thighs. Ones you liked to perch yourself on, sometimes you rode them, getting yourself off by just a thigh alone. The delicious friction of it against your throbbing clit.

You really did have to stop your train of thoughts before you got yourself in a worse situation than you were currently in.

That was when you got the wicked idea to tease him. You were gonna make him sorry for leaving you in such a desperate state.

•

Lunchtime came and you fixed him a sandwich, bringing it into him, knowing he wouldn’t stop working to eat if you didn’t.

“Thanks sweetheart,” he smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist, patting your side, hand resting dangerously low on your ass.

This son of a bitch really was pushing your buttons at this point.

“No problem,” you smiled sweetly.

You looked over his shoulder at the paperwork in front of him, spread out on the desk.

“Not done yet?” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind, hands gliding down his chest.

It was a delicate balance; trying to be purposely sensual but playing innocent as if you weren’t trying to seduce him at all.

“Nope.”

“That’s a shame,” you pouted, kissing his cheek, lips hovering near his ear, “How about a short lunchtime break? Let you bend me over this desk and have your way with me, hmm?”

You bit his earlobe softly, feeling him shudder under your touch.

“You know I can’t,” Steve said, surprisingly more firm than you were sure he felt.

“Hmm. Suit yourself. I think I’m going to take a bath, wash up really good. Over my chest, my legs. Lather up the ladies real well,” you said, motioning to your boobs, which had grown fuller over the last few months.

He was blinking at you like an owl, unable to say anything.

“T-That’s fine,” he cleared his throat of the rasp that’d come out, “You go ahead, I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Well you know where you find me, if you need me,” you winked, sauntering off towards the bathroom.

The bath wasn’t that great, honestly. It was fine, refreshing, but all you wanted was Steve to strip naked and join you. You groaned, stepping out when you were done, draining the water.

You needed to up the ante if you wanted results.

•

The soft, silky bathrobe you donned was tied loosely at your waist. One tug and it could easily pull right open to expose your naked body underneath.

You carefully arranged the neckline of it so it showed the perfect amount of your cleavage. Where he could see your chest heaving from your labored breath, could access your neck where your pulse was spiking—symptoms of your intense desire for him.

He’d barely moved from where you’d left him.

One of his hands was in his hair, head resting in his hand, arm propped on the desktop, his fingers clutching a pencil and scribbling. Occasionally he would pause, punch some numbers into the calculator next to him and then resume writing.

The plate next to him was empty save for some crumbs. At least he’d eaten, that was something.

You stopped at the edge of his desk, rapping your knuckles against the desktop to get his attention.

“Can I get you anything else to eat?” you asked, motioning to the plate when he looked up at you.

“No, that was enough. Thanks for fixing it for me,” he smiled.

“Not a problem,” you replied, casually.

Purposely, you reached across the desk from where you were standing to grab the plate, making sure he had the perfect view of your cleavage. When you pulled back, one shoulder of the robe had slipped, exposing even more skin.

You might’ve missed it if you weren’t looking straight at him, but you saw Steve’s eyes flicker downwards then back up to your face, looking glazed. Then he blinked and was back to normal.

You let the disappointment settle internally and immediately went on to your next plan.

“Let me know if you want anything else,” you called in a sing-song voice as you headed towards the kitchen with the dirty plate.

You could’ve sworn you heard an answering grumble come from behind you.

•

Steve turned when he heard movement behind him.

“What are you doing?”

You looked up from where you were organizing the books on the small bookshelf you had in the living room.

“Just doing a little cleaning. Don’t let me bother you.”

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” he asked, looking concerned.

“Steve, I’ve gotta burn off this excess energy somehow,” you responded, turning back to where you alphabetizing the novels.

You made sure he was still looking when you bent over, as if peering closer at a certain book, making sure he got a full view of your ass in the tiny lounge shorts you decided to don.

You heard a creak behind you and turned to see Steve had turned back to his work.

You groaned inwardly. You were going to get him to fuck you if it meant you had to walk around naked.

•

As tempting as that thought was, you decided to forgo the walking around naked part. You were desperate, but you weren’t quite that desperate yet.

“How goes it?” you asked, walking in the room.

You’d spent the last few hours sitting in the kitchen reading your book and snacking on some strawberries. Just because you couldn’t have one of the things you were craving didn’t mean you were going to deprive yourself of your current food craving.

“Well I’m closer to being done than I was, if that tells you anything.”

“Steve, you’ve been at that desk nearly all day,” you frowned, “You must be stiff and sore.”

He groaned, rubbing at his neck and shoulders as if the power of suggestion was enough to make him realize just how sore he really was.

“Here, let me rub it for you,” you offered.

You put your hands on his shoulders, massaging gently, thumbs pressing into soft circles of his neck, kneading the knots out of his muscles.

He moaned softly, heading falling forward.

“That feels amazing, Y/N,” he complimented.

He was just asking for it at this point.

You leaned forward, breasts pressing against his back as you kissed his cheek, seemingly innocently.

“I know how else to make you feel amazing,” you purred, “And make you moan even more than you already were.”

His throat bobbed at his obviously hard swallow. One peek down at his crotch and you could see his cock was all aboard for the idea.

“I could suck you off, then let you get back to work,” you whispered, your voice as tantalizing as your words, “Let me wrap my lips around that pretty little cock of yours, make you moan so loud the walls rattle.”

He turned to look at you and you took the opportunity to press your lips against his. Your mouth purposely moved tantalizingly slow against his.

He hummed when you pulled away, his eyes still closed.

“You taste like strawberries,” he whispered.

“I know,” you smirked, your hands once again running down his chest.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Y/N,” Steve said, giving you a stern look, removing your hands gently from him.

“And what’s that?” you blinked innocently.

“You’re trying to get me to cave because you’re honey as fuck,” he said blatantly.

“I can’t help that I want to jump you,” you groaned, “But I know, I know, I’ll wait.”

“I don’t have much more to do, then I promise, I’m all yours,” Steve promised, kissing your cheek, turning back to his work.

You decided to give in to defeat at that point and just try to be patient, even if you did already feel like jumping out of your skin.

•

“I’m amazed you’ve been patient this long,” Steve said casually.

It was nearing late afternoon, three o’clock soon to be turning into four.

“Believe me, it’s not been easy,” you mumbled, resting against one of the stuffed chairs, watching him.

“Especially when my brain decides to turn every little thing you do into some sexual.”

He chuckled, amused.

“Like what?”

“You just writing for example. All I could think of is your hands and how they feel on my body, how your fingers feel tracing every curve, how they feel inside of me making me beg you to cum,” you groaned, “Sorry, I’m getting carried away again. I oughta just have gotten myself off. At least have one good orgasm imagining it was your hand instead of mine and—”

You jumped, hearing a loud crash. Without realizing it, Steve had hurled himself out of the desk chair, knocking it over. You gasped when he was on you, pulling your weight away from the chair you were leaning against, pressing your body into his. He kissed you hard, hungrily, making you moan into the kiss.

He was already moving you by the time you’d parted, breath heavy from the intense kiss. He backed you up against the edge of his desk, his body holding yours there with his own.

“There is no way I’m letting you get yourself off when I know I can do it and better,” he practically growled in your ear, pressing his crotch into you.

You felt his cock straining in his pants and you moaned, eager already for it.

“Fuck, if I knew that’s all it would’ve taken to get you to pay attention to me, I would’ve done it so much sooner,” you laughed a bit breathlessly.

“I was trying so hard to resist all day so I could get my work done,” he groaned, kissing you again.

“Not the only thing that was hard was it, big boy?” you giggled, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Don’t think you’re gonna get away with your little tricks,” he smirked, pushing all the contents of his desk on the floor.

You gaped at them, surprised.

“I’ll worry about that later,” he muttered, “I’ve got a gorgeous girl to tease.”

He grabbed your hips roughly, setting you on the desktop so you were at the same level as him. Before he did anything else, he practically tore your shirt over your head, groaning at the sight of your breast, nipples hard.

His hands grabbed them firmly, massaging them roughly in his large hands as his mouth moved against yours. You groaned at the wonderful feeling of his rough palms against your peaked nipples. You had never been as turned on as you were right now, your clit throbbing painfully, your panties soaked so thoroughly you wouldn’t be surprised if you left a puddle on his desk.

“Steve,” you whimpered, his mouth moving over your jaw and neck, sucking harshly in certain, random spots, “Can’t we just forgo the teasing this once?”

“Nope. Gotta give you a lesson you won’t forget,” he smirked, lowering his mouth to your chest.

Your breasts were still a tad sensitive and the feeling of his mouth on them practically made you salivate.

“Oh god,” you groaned, back arching into his mouth, his tongue and mouth sucking and licking at your nipples, giving them plenty of attention.

“See this is why I’m constantly horny,” you chuckled weakly, his lips moving back upwards towards your jaw and lips, “You’re too damn good at this.”

His hands had slid from your waist to your outer thighs, squeezing them as if to emphasize his next words which just so happened to be breathed over your lips.

“It’s because I love making you moan.”

God, not only his touch, but his words alone could like make you cum.

Your mouths connected again, his hands grabbing your ass roughly and pulling you into him as he ground his hips into yours. Your hands while tangled in his hair, quickly got on the same track as your brain, moving to his shirt to tug it off.

If he was gonna rub his dick against you like that and expect you not to act like a sex starved being, especially in your condition, then he was sorely mistaken.

He pulled away from your touch, causing you to scowl, but you were relieved to see he was just shedding his shirt. You were awarded with the glorious sight of his bare chest and stomach. If only he’d let you have a minute to just kiss and suck and lick the entirely of his naked upper half…

Much to your disappointment, he didn’t return to your lips, he stayed where he was, pulling off your shorts, cursing at the sight.

“I didn’t think you were wearing underwear when you pulled that bending over stunt,” he grunted.

You smirked, a bit proud of yourself.

“You sure stared long enough.”

“Yeah because all I wanted to do was take you, bent over like that,” Steve ground out.

Your thighs clenched, another pool of warmth gathering between them.

He tutted, like scolding a child as he once again pushed your thighs apart, readying you for his next level of teasing. He was on his knees before you before you could protest, his lips leaving a gentle kiss against your inner thigh.

“I’ve been so wet all day because of you,” you moaned, your desperation already showing.

You really were screwed if he had too much more teasing planned because you were already so desperate for him to have his way with you.

“And now you’re gonna learn how to be patient, aren’t you baby girl?”

He trailed his fingers along your entrance, gathering your slick.

“Yes, Steve,” you nodded eagerly.

You’d probably agree to anything right now as long as made home do something.

A finger pressed against your clit with just enough pressure to make you hiss through your teeth. Then came his tongue, licking a slit all the way up your lips.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathed.

His touch left you, his tongue taking over the job. With a few gentle laps at your clit, he moved on, tongue thrusting in and out of your entrance.

You moaned louder, entire body arching, your hands on his hair, wanting to keep him there forever. It never failed to amaze you that he knew just how to kiss, suck and lick every inch of you perfectly.

His fingers rejoined the performance, gliding in and out of you with ease, twisting and curling in perfect time with the coil of your building orgasm. His lips sucked on your clit, only adding to the bliss.

You were out of control, you’d never felt on fire like this before. Your hips were grinding against his face, body arched and hands squeezing your boobs, pinching your nipples. He was going to send you to an early grave. He was definitely going to send you to heaven during this orgasm.

“I’m close,” you whined, thighs squeezing at the sides of his head.

He held your thighs in one hand and did the worst possible thing.

You were seconds away from shattering completely when all contact was gone. His fingers were gone from you and so was his mouth.

“No, no,” you whined, “Steve, what the fuck?”

“Patience, darling,” he smirked that infuriating smirk.

He was soon forgiven when he started back up, your orgasm closer and stronger than it previously had been.

When he stopped a second time, right at the last second, you didn’t know whether to cry in frustration or slap him.

Apparently, your mouth decided on anger before your brain could catch up.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, Harrington.”

“How bad do you want to cum?”

The gleam in his eyes was wicked, the desire driving him almost as wild as you’d been acting. By this point, your brain was shut off and your mouth was saying whatever. If anyone else were to overhear, they might’ve mistaken you and Steve for an actual porno.

“So bad, so bad,” you whimpered.

“Say please,” his grin was as wicked as his stare.

“Please, Steve, please.”

You were actually going to combust when he was through with his teasing. You were actually going to explode into a million little pieces and float towards the earth like ash raining down. Not that you cared less. You welcomed it.

The second time he resumed, his fingers moved quicker, licks and sucks harsher as he was determined to let you finish this time. Maybe there was something to this science because the building knot was even stronger than the previous two times and you were sure you were gonna make a mess all over Steve’s face.

You were squirming inadvertently on the desk, hands holding his head right where you wanted him because over your fucking dead body was he going to quit before you could cum.

Your moans filled the room the only other sound your labored breathing and whines.

“Oh, fuck!” you partially screeched, a long moan laced with your words.

Your orgasm hit and your entire body trembled with the strength of one you’d never, ever felt. The journey had been pure torture, but damn if the pay off wasn’t worth it.

The aftershocks were just as powerful and you whimpered, trying to push him away as your entire lower half had become too sensitive for more at the moment.

Steve sat back, chin still glistening with a satisfied grin on his face. Wiping his chin on his shoulder, he stood, taking your face in his hands.

“Holy shit,” you have groaned, amazed just by him.

“You okay? We can stop now if you need to.”

“Oh hell no,” you laughed, still trying to catch your breath, “Just give me a moment.”

You leaned forward and kissed him again, one hand bypassing his pants and boxers, reaching in to grip his now throbbing cock, firmly. You pressed a kiss to his chest as his eyes fluttered closed at your touch.

You pumped him slowly, your wrist turning slowly, teasing him now.

“I thought this was your lesson,” he groaned, resting his forehead against yours.

“I happen to like hearing you moan,” you smiled, devilishly.

“I don’t want to cum unless I’m inside you,” he breathed.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You removed your hand, pushing his pants down his hips, his boxers going as well.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss.

In the midst of the kiss, your hand wrapped around his cock once again, guiding him to your entrance. He pushed into you, mutual moans of pleasure coming from both of you.

“So good, fuck you’re so good for me, Y/N,” Steve mumbled hand on your cheek, giving you another quick kiss as he started moving at a slow, languid pace.

You didn’t complain at the moment, just enjoying the feeling of him moving in and out, his hard length gliding and running against you in such a pleasant way.

“Come on Steve,” you provoked, “I know you can do better than that.”

He growled, gaze boring into yours as he grabbed your ass, lurching you for in one swift, hard motion as he thrust into you roughly, making your head loll back.

“Jesus,” you moaned, gripping his shoulders, suddenly short of breath once again, “Yeah, that’s m-more like it.”

Just as your hips were getting used to the rougher pace, he pulls out of you completely leaving you aching and shaking, left wanting more.

You let out a protesting whine, but he shushes you.

“I wanna try something different, is that okay?”

You nodded, letting him manipulate your body like he wanted it.

He turned you around, bending you over the desk, wrapping one arm protectively around your abdomen, protecting your vulnerable bump, so it wouldn’t hit the edge of the desk.

The small gesture makes you smile and you turn your head, kissing the shoulder of that arm.

Your smile fades quickly into your mouth dropping in pleasure as he thrusts back into you, the angle allowing you to feel him so deep, it automatically has your body shaking.

“I got you, I got you,” Steve mutters against your shoulder as he thrusts roughly into you, holding onto your front firmly, aiding you in your own backwards thrusts of your hips.

“Fuuuuuck, fuck, fuck, fucking hell, Steve,” you’re a moaning, babbling mess, fully drunk on him and his cock buried in you.

Your hair is wild in your face and you push it back, your body rocking back against his and you reach out to grip the edge of the desk. Your other hand hasn’t moved from where it rests over his, as if double protecting the growing baby inside you.

“Is it as good as you imagined all day, baby? Shit,” he grit his teeth, moaning the curse at the end of his sentence.

“Better,” you moan, throwing your head back against his shoulder, “So much fucking better.”

He’s repeatedly hitting a spot so deep with you that your eyes might be rolling back in your head. His hair brushes your cheek as he bends over you, reaching down between your legs.

His thrusts are becoming erratic and you know he’s dangerously close and trying to hurry you to your climax. You’re unintentionally squeezing around his cock, your muscles quivering and contracting from your own pleasure.

He finger circles your clit frantically and the pressure starts building inside you again, signaling your impending orgasm is near. His hand’s frantic movements matched his hips frantic pace.

“Wanna cum,” he moaned lowly, “Wanna cum so hard in you, baby girl.”

“Do it,” you begged, “Fuck, Steve, please. Make me a mess. Fuck, I love you so much.”

Your mouth was forming and releasing words that you had no comprehension of, you were so close and with every thrust, he got you closer.

Another mind blowing orgasm hit you and you moaned his name repeatedly, clutching on to him and distantly you heard your own name falling from his lips. You could feel his body that was now slick against yours, tense and shudder as his own body was wracked with his own ecstasy.

You were spent by the time he slid out of you, your entrance sensitive and dripping from your combined releases. You would’ve fallen forward against the desk due to your wobbling, unsteady legs, but he balanced you in both arms, scooping you up in them.

The exhaustion was heavy in your limbs. Pregnancy sex was mind blowingly amazing, but the exhaustion afterwards was twice as bad.

“Your papers,” you mumbled weakly.

“I’ll worry about them later,” Steve answered, “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up.”

He carried you to the bedroom, laying you on the bed while he went to the bathroom. He returned with a damp washcloth, wiping your thighs clean and running it gently between your legs, knowing you were still incredibly sensitive.

You open an eye when he returns from discarding the rag.

“You know, it won’t be too much longer before I’ll be too big for us to do that,” you said, motioning to the doorway, meaning your precious little escapade.

“Then we’ll just have to enjoy it while we can,” Steve smirked, laying down next to you.

“By the way, I’m thankful it’s all your fault I’m so horny because you sure deliver,” you mumbled, already half asleep.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he chuckled.

You were out before he finished his sentence.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things smut

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pixelatedraindrops · 8 months

Text

Why Yuma Kokohead is my main whump candidate🌡️ An Analysis:

(contains raincode spoilers)

So, some of you people are probably asking yourself; Why do I keep making these sickly edits of Yuma?

Okay. Allow me to present my evidence and reasoning behind this weird little obsession of mine in 3 parts. (prepare for a small essay with some spoilers)

First off; I've noticed that Yuma always holds his head like this whenever he's distressed.

I know its probably just a nod to his memory loss, but he does it

EVERY

SINGLE

TIME

Through the whole game.

Like his model is just programed to do it whenever he makes these two expressions in the sprite art.

He always looks so pale and tired... sick even.

Which is why I edited these sprites first

The model of him that’s used in an Ace Attorney fan made crossover project does this exact same gesture too.

Only he actually looks like he's in even MORE pain here.

source

And Reminder; he canonically felt sick in the first chapter of the game. Idc what the reason was, the point is it happened.

All of this might confirm that he has potential to be frail of health or may suffer from specified ailments easily.

Also... DO YOU HEAR THIS LABORED BREATHING???

Like hello? BE FR RIGHT NOW??

In the JP dub, he speaks under somewhat heavy sounding breaths when he's going through this ordeal of trying to open the door to the Infirmary (as he should) It shows how exhausted he feels or how dizzy he is just wanting, BEGGING to lay down and make the world stop spinning.

(sorry for the poor quality video lol)

This was all that was going through my mind when I first played this part of the chapter. And I nearly lost it. He was officially on my list

This part of Chapter 0 was more than enough to convince me he had the potential.

SPOILER TERRITORY⚠️

Second: Yuma usually doesn't mind admitting when he is weak or vulnerable.

Such as when he tells Fubuki that he feels like he's in pain and going to pass out after Shinigami punched him in the Ch3 ML, or telling Vivia how scared he was when he was threatening to kill him during the Ch4 Investigation, or admitting his fear and hesitation to Shinigami in Chapter 5's deserted factory. Anytime that he admits his feelings if someone asks him rather than trying to act tough. Instead of playing dumb, he admits when he feels a negative way. He's completely honest about it.

THAT IS SOME GOOD SHIT 👀

This is really good fodder for a scenario where he just confesses that he's not feeling well. Or that he's about to be sick. Or if he's in pain or injured. Or if he's having a mental breakdown. He won't shy away from it. He'll say it.

(though I did kinda make him play dumb in my own fic lol I cannot deny that there are times he also wants to be strong and/or not be a burden to others)

Third: Yuma's size. HIS TINY SIZE??? COME ON?? He may as well be a CHILD.

I know vivia is a freaking giant but STILL LOOK HOW SMALL HE IS

He is so baby despite his age being completely unknown. He could be a teenager or he could be an adult over 20. Nobody knows.

Point is regardless of that, you can see him is any kind of vulnerable situation with no doubt or worry of it being OOC. You can see him crying if he's hurting. You can see him whining about making the pain go away. You can see him wanting comfort if he has a nightmare. You can see him having a panic attack reaching out to a caretaker for support.

He can be carried or lifted up by anyone taller than him and probably be light as a feather. Seeing him cling to them like a sick or hurt kid would.

He could sit or lay on their lap. He could lean on them as they help him walk if he's hurt, or as they help him eat or drink if he's too weak to do so himself.

And he probably couldn't stop someone from forcing him down to rest if he tried due to his physical stature being unfit for combat. (or anything)

Regardless, it would ALL FIT.

Like taking care of a child.

Now with those 3 points out of the way, I ask you all:

How can this character NOT be easy whump bait? Don’t underestimate my imagination as a sickfic enthusiast.

HE IS LITERALLY SO WHUMPEE SHAPED AND CODED WITH THIS INFORMATION

He's a perfect victim for specifically any sort of head issue:

Be it a headache, a head injury, migraine, or what I usually continue to give to him in my edits.

A High Fever.

plus, coupled with the RAIN 24/7 SETTING?

In THIS type of scenario??

AS I KEEP SAYING; IT'S WAY TOO DAMN EASY

THIS GAME PRACTICALLY SPOON FEEDS ME ALL THIS BAIT

he's got the major potential to be the biggest sickly wet cat ever

and I love him so much for that

he's so dizzyboy coded that I want to make him SICK AS A PUPPY

Which is why I do it so much.

40 degrees? Call a freaking doctor aaaa

I'll mostly go with a high fever because they're my favorite thing in the sick whump category and easy to edit, but at the same time, he could be suffering with any sort of issue and it would seem accurate, likely or canon, so long as it involves his head.

Such as a splitting headache, immense dizziness, flash blurred vision, or even a nausea induced migraine. (heck, even all of the above, go crazy)

You may ask yourself, why?

Easy: For caretaking fluff purposes.

That's mostly why sickfics exist.

The potential fluff of him getting taken care of by the NDA (found family) Shinigami (chaotic mascot partner/sibling) Kurumi (platonic or romantic) or heck maybe even Makoto (sibling dynamic or possible ‘self-care’)

Just the thought and image of him getting taken care of in general puts a smile on my face. Its a HUGE comfort for me 💜

The potential for the found family, shipping, or sibling moments he can produce from being in this state is astronomical. And you don't see that in characters very often. He is a very rare specimen. He is Number 1 after all.

Checks literally all of my boxes on why I love illness whump and sickfics so much. He is perfect.

Sometimes sacrifices must be made to forge deeper connections. And these kinds of scenarios almost NEVER fail to be 1 of three things: tooth-rottingly wholesome, heartbreakingly angsty, or chaotically comedic. It depends on your preference. (They're mostly wholesome and sweet though.)

fr though.

once you find your prime whumpee you never go back

and now I know how it feels ;w; the bliss makes me feel as though I am now complete in a place where something was missing.

Thank you Kodaka for this adorable smol anxious purple trainee who’s actually the top dog 💜

I love him dearly🥰

Some of you may just want to see Yuma as a cool smart, competent, and badass protagonist and that's great! I completely agree! That he is.

But to me personally? He's also a soft, delicate, anxiety filled, adorable lil' wet cat who needs constant TLC, love and/or support 💊 Physically and/or mentally.

Get a character that can do both lol

That is all.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

I love this little guy so much! He means everything to me.💜 He’s just a little guy. My babygirl, my little scrunkly, my lil' blorbo, my little meow meow…

No matter how you see it;

Yuma Kokohead is a blessing✨

#whumpcode #master detective archives: rain code #rain code #yuma kokohead #long post #character analysis #not me explaining once again why he’s my prime whumpee #and honestly a really solid whumpee in general #he’s tiny frail anxious self concious and physically weak #LITERALLY WHUMPEE SHAPED AND CODED #AND I HAVE EVIDENCE #I’m honestly surprised more whump blogs haven’t targeted him yet #illness #whump #whump posting #illness whump #fever #my edits #fever edit #male whump #whumpee #whump community #canon whump #whumpblr #individuals holding their heads from pain or dizziniess is one of my favorite things ever #and the fact this boy does it CONSTANTLY as part of his CHARACTER??#instant fave and instant target holy shit #he’s a frail baby wet cat and he needs all hugs in the world #a perfect set up for fluffy moments between him and many various potential caretakers #I love him so much even though I torment him constantly lol

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saintsenara · 2 months

Note

I am literally so stressed right now since school is starting up again. I was just scrolling through your posts and I absolutely adore your opinions and thoughts. If you’re still up to the ships asks, I have a few.

For some reason, I have been thinking about age-gap relationships that wouldn’t be quite possible…and added with my love of Severus Snape… 👀👀

Abraxas Malfoy/Severus Snape - I don’t know if you’ve done Lucius/Severus but I just took it a generation back.

Romulus Augustus Lestrange/Severus Snape - I remember you mentioning in Scylla and Charybdis that the two were kindred spirits (?) since they were both killed by Voldemort.

Bellatrix Lestrange/Severus Snape - maybe a bunch of sexual tension during missions? Bellatrix’s attitude toward Severus was mainly suspicion but I feel like she meant it in a ha-ha-I’m-jealous-you’re-the-favorite way, not in a oh-wait-he-actually-is-a-traitor way.

Marlene McKinnon/Severus Snape - I love your take that she was a seasoned veteran in the First Wizarding War. It never made sense to me that everyone in the First Order were all children. Majority, maybe. But all of them being Gryffindors and out-of-school never stuck to me.

Frank Longbottom/Severus Snape - I’ve read a few works for this and I like the few takes there are.

And I already know your thoughts on Lord Voldemort/Severus Snape (it’s a favorite).

I’ve also been thinking about time-travel fix-it’s in general too. How do you think Severus would react if he found himself in Tom Riddle’s era? There’s the take on him being older and aware and absolutely done with his life, and Lord Voldemort (few years out of school or maybe in his 30s to level the age in a way) whose intrigued by the sour man (and maybe gets impressed by his knowledge of the Dark Arts?). Then there’s also student Severus meeting student Tom and getting further radicalized by this young handsome man. There’s so many to explore but at this point, if I don’t get my head out of this rabbit hole, I may never be able to pass school. 😭😭

This turned out to be longer than expected, but I love reading your posts! It’s always so entertaining, especially with your interpretation of Severus Snape. I can rarely ever talk about Severus without being attacked by Marauders fans online.

thank you very much for the ask, pal! i hope this term goes well for you - and that your extremely chic recent interest in snape-related age gap relationships endures.

let's see what we have here...

abraxas malfoy/severus snape romulus lestrange/severus snape

i'm going to take these two together - since romulus is an original character who exists nowhere other than my own head - because they occupy essentially the same role in relation to snape.

i've written before about how i really like the idea of voldemort having three distinct impacts across three separate generations - the knights of walpurgis/the original death eaters, who know the proto-voldemort of the 1940s and 1950s, with his muggle name and his retail job; these men's sons, who know the unassailably powerful voldemort of the 1970s; and these men's sons, who know the paranoid and volatile voldemort of the 1990s.

so you have abraxas - lucius - draco in each of those categories [or, romulus - rodolphus - n/a...]

snape is - of course - part of lucius and rodolphus' generation, and the voldemort he encounters when he becomes a death eater is the unstoppable political force who appears to be made of pure magic - which, naturally, makes snapemort have a very different power dynamic to something like tombraxas.

but it's also clear that snape is someone voldemort takes an interest in because he recognises so much of his former self in him - the slightly feral vibes, the poverty, the disappointing muggle father, the feeling of being an outcast surrounded by posh kids and the desire to bend those same kids to your will.

this is the reason for voldemort arranging things in scylla and charybdis so that snape can lord it over mulciber and avery, and it's also the reason why he's so insistent that abraxas and romulus [and other senior death eaters he knew at school] are nice to him - he's basically enjoying reliving his youth by, once again, making his minions obey someone who is technically their social inferior.

snape lacks the teenage tom riddle's charm [and looks], of course, which means that there's far more condescension inherent in any relationship - platonic or otherwise - that either of these two would have with him than there was in their early relationship with voldemort.

but they also have a fondness for spindly lads with an obsession with magic and regional accents, which means that i'm sure that something can come out of the fireside chats voldemort's compelling them to have with snape while they're forced to host him in their houses...

bellatrix lestrange/severus snape

i am very, very fond of this as a pairing - and, indeed, have something in the works on the topic - and bellatrix's rampant jealousy of snape is exactly why.

one of my preferred ways of exploring snape's position within the death eaters is to think of him as voldemort's exception in terms of social class - that is, that he is the only marked death eater who doesn't come from an elite, quasi-aristocratic background; and that voldemort's supporters who are from lower social classes are kept, like fenrir greyback in the rank-and-file and not permitted to take the mark.

[this is why, in my writing, i always make the carrows a similar level of posh to the malfoys and lestranges - canonically they're rather one-note working-class stereotypes, but i don't think this makes sense given what we know about voldemort's structuring of his organisation during the first war. it's also why i think that peter pettigrew doesn't receive a dark mark until he returns to voldemort post-prisoner of azkaban.]

bellatrix - on the other hand - is voldemort's exception in terms of gender [and another thing i'm wedded to thinking is that alecto carrow also doesn't receive the dark mark until the second war.]

these means, of course, that both she and snape depend on voldemort's favour - especially in the first war, when he still trusts his death eaters sufficiently highly to delegate things to them - much more than the elite male death eaters do.

i think it's reasonable to assume, for example, that rodolphus may object to his wife behaving in a way which defies the gendered conventions elite pureblood women are clearly subject to - and that it's only voldemort's authority that prevents him voicing an objection publicly. or that lucius malfoy - like sirius - conceives of snape as his "lapdog", and it's only voldemort's authority which forces him to treat him as a peer.

which means, of course, that snape and bellatrix are in competition with each other for voldemort's attention in ways which the other death eaters never have to be - which explains their vibe in canon, in which bellatrix finds snape's elevation in voldemort's good books after she falls from grace after the cock-up in the department of mysteries so infuriating.

[it also gives a really interesting dimension to her being completely fucking right about snape's loyalties, but being in the wrong position in voldemort's eyes for her opinion to be trusted by him. you just know she was pissed when she got to the afterlife.]

and - from a shipping perspective - having to be constantly jealous of and obsessed with each other is a very effective way of lighting a spark...

marlene mckinnon/severus snape

i do always like snape with an older woman, because i think it fits his whole vibe, so he goes very nicely with my preferred vision of marlene as a fifty-year-old hard-nosed ministry bitch who fucking loathes mad-eye moody.

the meet-cute? well, spies have to have handlers, don't they? dumbledore passing over his new turncoat death eater to one of his senior lieutenants - particularly given the fact that she's unlikely to be thrilled about this - is something i can get on board with.

frank longbottom/severus snape

frank and alice are other ones i don't enjoy seeing written as part of the marauders' generation - for them to be well-established aurors by the time the lestranges attack them, i think it's reasonable to assume that they're around molly and arthur's age [that is, around ten years old than snape et al.]

so i think we're repeating the same scenario as above - frank needs to debrief the order's new spy. if you know what i mean...

time-travelling snape!

i think that the teenage tom riddle would fucking hate the teenage snape, to be honest. the teen snape we meet in canon is someone who really obviously refuses to play along with the social conventions which govern an institution as elite as hogwarts - and he clearly stands out more for his grubby, feral demeanour, his uncouth manners, his way of speaking, and his refusal to be deferential to his social superiors than he does for his name and blood-status.

[indeed, he's one of the only really visibly working-class students we ever meet in canon - to the extent that i am increasingly convinced that hogwarts is a selective school...]

the young voldemort, in contrast, happily plays along with these social conventions for his own ends - simpering through slug club meetings and sending slughorn pineapple and doing all he can to be viewed as a suitable candidate for head boy, in order both to provide a cover for his wrongdoing and as a way to soothe the chip on his shoulder by beating the posh at their own game.

he's going to think snape's as common as muck, and snape's going to think he's a pretentious cunt.

a post-1981 snape going back in time and finding himself entangled with the young-adult voldemort, in contrast, i think could be rather compelling. it's very interesting that the teenage voldemort's willingness to play-act a fondness for the class system doesn't extend to being prepared to grit his teeth and suffer through a ministry internship slughorn procures for him - and his decision to go off and work in a shop has a slightly bolshy "fuck you, sir" side to it we don't otherwise really see from him.

this voldemort would, i think, be slightly more open to snape's whole vibe, and they could get cracking on all the things which make snapemort a hot ship - the shared love of magical experimentation, the dubious morality, the fact that voldemort's clearly responsible for snape's aesthetic, and so on - several decades early.

one question, though, is whether snape would know who he was.

i go back and forth on how widely voldemort's birth name is known - and whether it's ever connected to him following his return to britain in the mid-1960s.

on the one hand, i think dumbledore's secrecy surrounding it is nonsensical - a substantial proportion of the death eaters were clearly at school with voldemort, and those who weren't are still usually related to these men in some way [i always think, for example, that it's much more plausible to assume that the diary horcrux was given to abraxas malfoy, and that lucius was well aware that his father and voldemort had been at school together] - but on the other, i do wonder whether snape, who comes into voldemort's orbit as - as i've said - an exception would be made privy to the information about voldemort's background which was probably an open secret among the elite male death eaters.

[which also provides an explanation for why bellatrix is so shocked to hear harry say voldemort's a half-blood in order of the phoenix, while lucius malfoy doesn't bat an eyelid.]

which is to say, i am much more taken by the idea of snape - destroyed with grief over lily's death - rocketing backwards three decades, landing in the knockturn alley of 1951, and having no idea until he's in far too deep who the softly-spoken shop-boy who offers him a cuppa will turn out to be...

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #unhinged and deranged ships #snape edition

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the-slasher-madame · 2 years

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Hi! I came across your blog today and I love it! I have a scenario type thing for Brahms I just thought of

So, only hours after the events of the movie, reader somehow someway finds the manor and decides to take refuge in there for a bit. They explore around a bit and the only reason Brahms hasn't attacked or anything is because he's simply too weak, so he retreats into the walls. Reader finds the doll, and just so happens to have owned a lot of glass/ceramic dolls in their past, so they know how to fix them up. As reader is fixing up the dolls head the best they can, they hear a loud thump from inside the walls, queue Brahms passing out. And you can take creative liberty from there LMAO

Sorry if that was a lot and you can change up anything you see fit! Thanks!

Awww HI!!!!! I'm glad you like it here <3333

LOL I love this because it just seems funny, random person is caring for the doll and Brahms just passes tf out and reader just goes "hmmm yes into the walls, let us care for the strange man." Ain't me, I get heart palpitations just playing phasmophobia lol, I'd die first in a horror movie (but hopefully I'd get my dying wish of a kiss from the handsome villain 👀.) Onwards!!

Warnings/Notes: mentions of violence, injuries, mentions of age regression (reader has friends who do), GN reader, poor Brahmsy :(,

ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵐᵒᵛᶦᵉˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵉᵗᵗᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᴵ ᵖʳᵒᵐᶦˢᵉ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ >_<

I had to get that off my chest >_< anyways enjoy for real this time<3

Brahms had finally retreated to the walls, having patched himself up to the best of his abilities. It wasn't much, but it was something; he wouldn't die without saying he tried, he thought. It wasn't just his body hurting, but his heart, his mind. He really cared for Greta, had killed to protect her, and she betrayed him. She left him to die in the same house he'd been trapped in, alone, for his most of his life. Brahms thought he was about as bitter and angry at the world as he could get, yet here he was. If he could've moved he thinks he would have torn the mansion apart by now, or perhaps even left (he knew he'd never do that, he was as stuck with this broken home as he was with his broken face). He had just settled into a comfort spot in the walls when he heard the unmistakable creaking of the front door. This terrified him, thinking that Greta may have come back to make sure he was dead or had brought the cops to take him away. He groaned and gathered his strength to start towards the front of the house, stopping near one of the fireplaces to grab another weapon. He slowed as he reached the front, both due to exhaustion from his injuries and an attempt to be covert. Brahms, expecting to see Greta or unfamiliar men busting through the house, was properly surprised when he saw you instead. You had closed the front door while he made his way to this part of the house, and had stopped when you reached the shards of the doll. He rested a moment to see what you would do, as well as to catch his breath from the mad dash through his wall labyrinth.

“I think I can fix you little guy, hm? You know where I can find some superglue or porcelain? Why don’t we go looking around,” you hummed to the doll, having gathered all the pieces of its poor head. Brahms was shocked for the second time tonight, seeing you interact with the doll. He hadn’t interacted with many people, but he was certain that most wouldn’t stop for something that simple. They wouldn’t bother to even think of fixing it. He wanted so badly to go to you, to beg for some sort of help or comfort, but the recent betrayals kept him in the walls to watch as you started to wander through the halls of the house. Brahms passed by the mirror he burst through earlier, but his head started to spin. He tried so hard to stay upright, but the combination of emotional and mental turmoil of the night and his injuries made it impossible; he felt like he was watching himself crash to the floor before his sight finally faded to blackness.

You, on the other hand, jumped when you heard the noise. You had thought you were alone in the house; you had seen no cars out front or lights on in any of the windows. You carefully set the doll down and started back towards where you thought you heard the thump come from. As you cautiously rounded the corner, alert for possible assailants, you spot a large humanoid shape on the ground. The mirror was broken, like the person had fallen through it. You were quite properly terrified, but unfortunately for you, you had a kind heart. You could see the blood and bandages on what you determined to be a man, and you knew you had to help him. You slowly crept towards him and slid the fire poker out of the way, deciding you could pick that up in a moment. You rolled the man over onto his back, catching sight of some poorly applied bandages and plenty of blood smeared around his chest. It seemed pretty apparent to you that the man before you had no clear knowledge of first aid, or at least not enough to deal with whatever had happened to him. You had also noticed the cracked porcelain mask adorning his face, which was admittedly a little weird, but who were you to judge? I mean you had technically broken in and invaded his home, so you were certainly in no position to critique anyone.

You decided to look for some supplies before messing with the injury underneath all those bandages, You went back towards the kitchen, grabbing the fire poker before you went (no sense in giving him a way to hurt you when you just wanted to help. You riffled around in the kitchen cabinets, trying to find anything that looked like a first aid kit, or hell even some bandages. You found nothing, huffing as you arose from your knees and started walking back towards where you left the man. You rounded the corner just as the man shot up. His breathing was ragged as he whipped his head over to you, his eyes boring into you through his mask. You slowly set the fire poker on the ground, raising your hands above your head to show you meant no harm. The man flinched backwards anyways, starting to look around wildly for an exit. His current state was unstable as it is, and you didn’t want him to further hurt himself.

“Hey! Hey hey hey I won’t hurt you. Let’s calm down a little alright? I’m sorry to startle you,” you said, keeping your voice low and not moving. He started staring at you again, still heaving with heavy breaths. It wasn’t a lot, but you took it as a positive move. “My name’s Y/N, what about you?” He continued staring at you, thinking over whether to tell you. He was scared, he was unsure, and he was hesitant to trust anyone right now. You were going to start talking again, figuring he didn’t feel comfortable telling you any information. Just as you opened your mouth, the man before you opened his.

“My name is Brahms, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The man before you spoke softly, his voice closer to a child’s than an adult’s. His manners stuck with him, despite his fear. Your heart melted, seeing him deflate with fear and defaulting back to politeness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Brahms. Is this your house?” you said, trying your best to be gentle. The child-like voice also didn’t phase you much, either, as you had friends that would age regress. You were also more of a ‘go-with-the-flow’ sort of person, figuring to let people do what they wanted as long as it didn’t hurt themselves or anyone else.

“Yes, I’ve lived here my whole life,” Brahms responded to your question, surprised yet again by you. Most people were terrified when they saw him and heard him, their posture stiffening while they tried to back away. But he didn’t notice any of that with you; your breathing didn’t even change.

“Well Brahms, it’s a lovely house from what I’ve seen. I’m sorry to intrude, I didn’t know this house was occupied. I couldn’t help but notice you were hurt, can I help you with that?” Oh, you were so genuinely concerned for him. His eyes were tearing up, he didn’t think anyone could genuinely care for him, let alone a stranger. Meanwhile, you swear you could hear your heart break as he answered, “Please,” in such a scared, tired voice.

“Alright, thank you Brahms. Do you know where I can find some supplies? A blanket, some washcloths, a first aid kit?” You had lowered your hands by this point, kneeling down but still keeping a good distance away from your new friend, because you didn’t want to overwhelm him. You could tell this was a lot for him to handle at the moment. Brahms pointed to the broken remains of the mirror as he informed you, “There’s a first aid kit in the walls, just go straight left until you see it.” While you were a bit surprised to hear him telling you to walk in the walls, you figured it wasn’t the strangest part of your evening thus far. You promised him you would be right back and climbed up through the frame of the mirror, starting left just as he told you. You reached the kit in just a few minutes, glancing at the blood wiped along the walls. Why was there not a single soul to help this man when he clearly needed it? What had even happened in the first place? You filed these questions away for later as you slunk back the way you came. You had one hand on the wall, careful to go straight ahead through the darkened halls. You quickly came back to where the lights from the living room cast through the broken mirror, and you just as carefully made your way back out of the walls.

Brahms was dragging himself towards the couch about two [yards/meters] away, and it made you feel in your bones that this man was full of bad ideas and stubbornness. You hustled over to help him, saying to him, “Brahms! I could’ve helped you. Oh please be careful-” He’d made it to the couch, and only then did he turn to you and ask if you could help him onto the furniture. You let him use your body as a crutch as he lifted himself onto the cushions. He released you and sunk back into the softness of the couch, closing his eyes for a moment to regain his breathe. You briefly moved to the kitchen to find some sort of cloth to wet and clean up the mysterious man with. Brahms’ eyes were open by the time you returned.

You gently settled into the cushions beside him, opening the first aid kit to see what you had to work with: gauze, painkillers, medical tape, suturing equipment, a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide, butterfly strips, and some antibiotics. You prepared yourself, and decided you should probably warn Brahms. You mumbled, “I have to clean it, and I might have to put some stiches in. Is that okay, Brahms?” Another surprise, being asked if it was alright for you to touch him. He had a feeling that you were just one big string of surprises, but interestingly enough he wanted to see what you would do next. He nodded his assent, and you set to carefully removing the dressing he had applied earlier. It was a relatively small hole compared to what you were expecting, but it still looked rather deep. You started by lightly scrubbing at the dried blood, cleaning up his skin before moving on to the wound itself. You found some cotton pads in the kit and dabbed some of the hydrogen peroxide on to it. “It may sting a little, Brahms, I’m sorry. But It’ll help keep it clean and healthy okay?” you informed him, your brow furrowed slightly. “It’s alright, I understand. I’ll be a good boy,” he whispered back to you, his tired mind and body aching to be good, to be taken care of. You nodded and returned to the task at hand, carefully pressing the cotton bad to the hole in his chest. He hissed as it burned, but he stayed still like a good boy. You winced with him, knowing it felt awful. Finally you pulled the pad away, blotchy with watery pink spots. The man next to you breathed a sigh of relief once you pulled the pad away. You examined the wound closer, trying to determine if it needed stitches. It was a pretty small surface area, but it seemed deep enough. It’s also important to mention that you weren’t a certified medical professional, and you had no idea what qualified for stitches.

You remembered the butterfly strips, deciding that would be a good compromise. You grabbed the antibiotic tubes, using your (thoroughly sterilized) finger to smooth the jelly over Brahms’ wound. After that was taken care of, you used a single butterfly strip to hold the wound closed, then covered it with a bandage. You stood up and stepped back to critique your work, deciding to deem it passible. “Alright Brahms, I think that’s the best I can do for now. Good job for sitting through that,” you praised him, and it certainly helped him to feel better. “Thank you, Y/N,” he offered, his voice still high but not quite as high as it was before. You sat back down next to him, and he turned to watch you. A few moments later, your broke the silence to ask, “Do you mind telling me what happened here?”

//Finite. Squeeee I hope y’all like it!! Looking at the gifs of Brahms getting stabbed made me sad, but also made me remember how attractive he is. I really want him to kiss me :((((

Sorry if there are any plot holes, or inaccuracies in either how the events happened compared to the movie or in the medical care. I plan on going into forensics and homicide investigation, and that usually involves more dead bodies than live ones. Also sorry it took me so long, I wanted to make sure it was good!! I gotta put that whole slashussy in there. <333

#slashers #slasher fucker #slasher x reader #slasher fluff #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelsire fluff #brahmsy #brahms heelshire the boy #brahms the boy #the boy 2016 #brahms needs some love #give him a hug for fucks sake #babie #<3333

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bitchapalooza · 9 months

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Can I like. Gush about Rome and my Rome headcanons please? Okay thanks :)

I love him so much and I love that he’s a loving grandfather— but I also love to think of him being an entitled dick because honestly of course he’d be an entitled dick. He was is the Roman Empire. A dominating power of his time. He is going to have an ego bigger than England at his height of power and modern America combined. But god I’d be lying if I said I loved him any less— and no, it’s not because of my Roman History hyperfixation bias! Totally not! 👀

But fr, Rome is an interesting character if you really apply his real history and culture in tandem with his canon character and I love it so much(take a shot every time I say love)—

You’ve got this loving grandfather, who does show favoritism for the younger of his grandsons. He’s a strong guy. A feared man. An absolute brute on the battlefield— but that’s really all that was going for him, besides his genuine kindness that came in waves really, because in truth, like any other empire or even modern nations, he was motivated not by achievement for the greater good but by greed, by selfish conquests. A big dick competition with the rest of the world. He was, in his heart, just an old xenophobic fart looking to expand his empire until it all came apart and fell.

Ancient Romans valued clean shaven faces over bushy beards. Shaving was a sign of cleanliness, which further cemented their belief of the early Germanics and many other outsiders as barbarians. They had facial hair. They were messy. They didn’t take care of themselves like they, the Romans, did. Although this, at its very core, fashion trend did fluctuate throughout its time, it is fairly evident shaving is a core Roman trait. And so, Rome being depicted in canon to have a beard or simple stubble is really interesting to me.

Being the Roman Empire he’d need to look his best at all times. Not only to look better than his enemies so they or others don’t look down on him but because he was essentially a nobleman, too. So I think he took meticulous care in his physical appearance. But later on in his reign, when things were falling apart within the empire marching towards his eventual death, he began to let himself go. Although he didn’t really pay much attention to this, others did, his citizens I mean. And they interpreted it as him going through a crisis, a direct reflection of what was going on at the time. By the time he died, his hair was messier, obviously zero attempts made at grooming it. His beard short and shaggy. And he didn’t care. Or possibly notice. Whether this was intentional character design or not, it’s still really great visual storytelling no matter which conclusion you draw.

Now for his human alias…

Romulus is a very common name I see used for him, meaning Citizen Of Rome. But it feels too obvious of a choice? It is a nice choice, naming him after the first king of Rome, Romulus, but it doesn’t tell us much about the character himself. So I picked—

Gaius Marcellus Priscus

I chose his praenomen and nomen as if he had picked them out - Gaius, a fairly common praenomen, meaning To Rejoice. I think he'd choose this name because of its positive meaning. It’s just coincidence that it happened to become a commonly used name.

His nomen, Marcellus, means Young Warrior, which he picked out for obvious reasons— to brag to others that yes he is a warrior. And later on, he’d probably try to hold that Young part of the name up high; something just tells me he’s the type of guy to lie about his age as well as hide it.

As for his cognomen, Priscus, he of course did not choose this name. Cognomen are basically nicknames(sometimes passed down from father to son). Something used to describe the person, usually physical attributes or place of origin. Priscus means Very Ancient, so l imagine his soldiers had given him this name in a light hearted joke of some kind, but still very respectful too.

So together, Gaius Marcellus Priscus could tell a person what this man is like without much conversation— well his surface personality that is.

Okay I’m done, I have to go back to work 😔(and think about Rome some more haha 😈)

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #historical hetalia #hws rome

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ofallthingsnasty · 2 months

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Cowboy croco?? 👀👀

Omg imagine him trying to wife up a cute fat darling 🙏🙏 hot

The thing is, to me he's either some ultra slimy, wicked business type who exploits people ruthlessly and gets them with debts/gag contracts or he's a Dutch Van der Linde (rdr2) guy with his own little group of outlaws (and has his fingers in pots the others do not know about...) - or maybe more like Colm O'Driscoll, but I digress...

Oh, but him having a little crisis - he is cunning and strong, has money and smarts and loyal men and all that, but he also can tell that he's in his mid-40s now. People in that line of 'work' (people in general, back then) aged worse - and I don't mean aesthetically, I mean physically. For all he knows, it's entirely possible for him to be dead this time next year; and he can feel the phantom pain in his lost hand whenever the weather changes more and more with every passing winter. 20 years ago, that quick way of living, that uncertainty didn't bother him at all, no, it added to the thrill of everything. That was the spice his 20s and 30s were made of - when the world was his oyster and the next big thing right around the corner. But now? He's richer than before, more crafty; he knows people and how they work, knows so much yet feels so empty... Going out in a blaze of glory would have been appealing just ten years ago, now it feels shallow and vain. It's not that he wants to settle down either, it's just-

Something is missing. Between almost 30 years on the road, the street, in the wilderness, the reeking towns and cramped cities and him lying and cheating and gunning his way through it all, he has been nothing but made of red-hot iron and fury. Suddenly he's more mellow; his evil oozes more than it spurts and he feels himself longing for something - someone. Someone to apply his little ointments for him, someone who cooks for him, someone who is a base for him whenever he returns from his exploits and so much more. He suddenly finds himself yearning for the comforts a wife provides, those little joys and genuine warmth money can't buy. It's strange, really. Utterly strange and out of character for a man like him. But age turns the best of them into sentimental fools and he doesn't seem to be an exception. He finds himself conjuring up someone in his mind whenever he lords over his whiskey or stares at the moon with a cigarette in hand; how nice just another presence would be, how he could afford a wife, how having someone to adore him might be more tempting than cold metal and gems in his hand. He could have both, he reasons, and experience a sliver of peace his life has never given him so far. He has heard many old men lament the loss of a woman; decades shared toiling together, building together - it never bothered him one bit before; now he wants what he can't have.

So when he spots you - widowed, all out on your own and desperate for money, fat with luxuries your dead husband could provide for you but that are now sorely missing, he sees an opportunity; someone to take advantage of. You're perfect, just made for him: desperate, soft and sweet, with years of homemaking and pleasing underneath your belt. Oh, he'll blind you. Deceive you with a front of charm and expensive clothes, with the promises of a home of your own and food on the table. You'll buy his lies hook, line and sinker - won't question him when he evades your inquiries about his work, won't even have the time to think about just where his rings come from when every day on your own just gets harder and harder because your money is running out. You've got a sweet face; the body of a fat little wife and are worn down enough by misfortune that you cling to him like a drowning cat. You'll only see that you married the devil himself after it's all said and done; that you've been dragged into the life of a horrible criminal who'll leave you widowed again - and with the wolves to come once he's been shot like a fucking dog, someday soon.

#but he is so selfish... he lives in the now... and the now is you warming his bed and washing his clothes and trying to be perfect for him..#/crocodile #/one piece #he'll leave you in a sweet little cabin in a little town and comes around here and there... but as long as he lives you'll be alright #at least financially...#thinking about either hosea from rdr2 who was whipped for his wifey. or micah's old outlaw companion who settled with a wife in strawberry #that's what i'm thinking you know....

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jerseymuppet · 1 year

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whats up w ur muppets based religion

Dude. That’s such a loaded question I shouldn’t have put that in my bio. Okay so full disclosure this sounds insane BUT i have so many instances of things occurring like its not even coincidences at this point its something else. I believe people born in New Jersey have abilities. Nothing insane like telekinesis or whatever but like theres something going on there. Examples: my grandmother is really good at guessing things and is never wrong, weird coincidences happen to my mother literally almost everyday, i can say things and then they will happen, my brother who was NOT born in NJ and never has any weird shit happen to him is a loser.

Now, i know this sounds absolutely batshit balls to the wall insane BUT. Stay with me. Okay so last summer, after the eu leg of mcrs tour i agonized over whether or not i should buy a ticket and go (for reasons I’m not going to share lol) so i sat back and said okay! nj band! show me a sign! And lo and behold what i see the very next day

Now this is important to me for one specific reason: kermit specifically is like the modem for my weird abilities. I’ve had this one kermit plush for literally as long as i can remember and it’s been with me through everything and somehow it just became important. So obviously i see this and throw my hands up. Like wtf else was i supposed to do? So i messaged my bestie like ‘mcr 👀👀’ and she was offended i even had to ask.

Weeks pass, the show gets closer and closer, snail (my bestie) is starting to panic, because “what if something goes wrong? What if our tickets don’t work or we can’t get there for some reason or something etc” and I’m like babe. Chill. This is the New Jersey Gay Sex band. You are with Jersey Blood. Everything will go fine, believe in me. But snail is a fucking skeptical bitch so i distracted her by asking what her dream setlist was. i got hers and mine and made them into a playlist.

At the top of her list was house of wolves and at the top of mine was just something new that they hadn’t played yet. We go. They play house of wolves, and my ears ring from how loud snail screams next to me. and. and and and. We got the first smeagles of tour and the live debut of burn bright. Absolutely fucking insane.

but no where near as insane as looking up at the monitor and seeing frank and realizing what was on the amp behind him.

Fun fact: did you know he only brought that thing out on stage twice the whole tour? Anyway.

And then weeks after, my beautiful and true mutual Jack (now trickstump, then Scootbian) reaches out to me, because we went to the same show! And we both love the muppets! And we live very close to each other. What are the odds? Anyway yeah this is just one example of many, many, many. I’m aware I look insane don’t even worry about it.

#I also met some other people and roan!!! my sweet cowboy roan!!#it’s so beautiful and true #I’m so normal I promise I’m just from new jersey #also sorry I took so long to answer that you deactivated #also also yes I’m aware that technically isn’t kermit but his evil Russian doppelgänger I have yet to see muppets most wanted #jude.answers

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peachshadows · 1 year

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Gosh I’m so sorry this is so long! I debated on posting this since I don’t want to add on to your AUs but it’s been on my mind all day!

In your New empress au I kinda see wukong as Henry the 8th a bit barbaric comparison, but wukong just mows thru wives/empresses like crazy. None last longer than a century which is short in Celestial time. Not even Azure lion lasts long which is a shock to everyone, but since Azure was a good advisor/friend before hand, wukong just divorces/banishes him to a chunk of land for him to live on (a choice wukong will regret later 👀)

As an add on (and why I debated all day on posting this) but the reason why macaque wasn’t made an empress from the start was because he died ages ago when he and wukong were still young. Their childhood/young adult life was mostly sweet. He and wukong cared deeply for one another, they took care of each other, they fought rather well together in battles, and helped take care of the cubs on the mountain they were practically attached at the hip. Thou unfortunately they weren’t always together and during one of the many attacks mount huaguo suffered from in the beginning of its history macaque died.

So how does he become the new empress, he gets reborn (I’m not sure if that’s correct word, he kinda just dies and wakes up) but he gets reborn as the six eared macaque the fourth celestial primate and keeping with his moon theme he gets reborn in the moon he still has memories of his past thou it’s vague and since the moon is chang’e court it’s the reason why no one has heard or seen macaque since chang’e is an intensely private goddess she does eventually brings him to one of the many grand events the celestial realm has and the instant wukong and macaque lock eyes it’s game over to whoever wukong is currently married too. Wukong knows this is his macaque his magic signature is almost exactly the same and after confirming with his golden vision that this isn’t some cruel trick wukong is relentless in his pursuit for macaques hand taking his courting very seriously, brutally killing off any potential rivals he may have.

They do eventually marry not sure how long that would take, but it does cause a silent uproar amongst the nobles across the celestial realm the typical he’s a no name, with no real power or sway so why did the emperor even chose them, I am clearly better type attitude. Which leads to sabotage or at least they try too.

OOOOO ANON UR MAKING ME BRAINROT FOR THIS AU

Just imagining shadowpeach being childhood sweethearts then Macaque dies which causes Wukong to spiral into grief and find solace in another person's arms.

Eons pass by and Wukong is now the ruler of heaven and has amassed a large harem, but Macaque just got reincarnated in chang'e's court after going through the cycle of life. However, the instant Wukong and Macaque lock eyes, Wukong is taken over by a strong sense of yearning and grief and want. There's nothing in this world that will stop him from having his moonlight back in his arms.

#also i wonder what's gonna happen to azure #i feel like he's the one that has lasted the longest till macaque arrived tbh #just to add fuel to the fire #asks #shadowpeach #new empress au

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blackkatmagic · 1 year

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Dogma/Agen? 👀 How cool

Ngl they are one of my absolute favorites.

“Are you all right?” Agen asks quietly, and his hands are gentle as he catches Dogma's, lifts his arms to the light. The sight of the cuts makes him frown, and he reaches for his pack again, comes up with a pair of bacta pads that he quickly strips the backing off of. The sticky press of them wrapping around Dogma's wrists makes him wince, because he’s never liked the feeling in the best of circumstances, but he nods.

“Thanks,” he says, and has to swallow hard. “For—for getting those off. And saving me.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Agen says simply, and turns away, leaving Dogma to try and breathe through the impact of those words. Agen gives him the privacy to do so, focusing on digging out and unfolding a thick shirt, a pair of pants, and a heavy jacket.

“I was not able to carry boots for you,” he says, and looks up, meeting Dogma's eyes for the first time. There's something almost unsettlingly open about his gaze, the clear concern, the apology that Dogma can read there. “Will yours suffice until we reach my ship?”

It takes Dogma a minute to find his voice, but he nods, takes the clothes that Agen passes him. “You—you know I was going to be executed for being a traitor, right?” he asks, raw, because—there’s absolutely no reason Agen should be this kind. Not to Dogma. Not to a clone, particularly when he’s from Iridonia.

Agen glances up, holds his gaze again. “I am aware,” he says simply, and Dogma's throat is too tight to speak. “You did not deserve to die because of the accusations against you.”

Dogma looks down, twisting his fingers into warm cloth. “I'm Dogma,” he says, because he doesn’t know how else to answer. Clones don’t give their names to anyone not a clone, because they're not supposed to have them, but—it’s all he has to offer. It hits, suddenly, that Dogma just deserted the Grand Army of the Confederacy, that he just because a traitor in a dozen more ways that will earn him the messiest possible death, likely directly at Dooku's hands. Everyone Dogma grew up with, everyone he knows, who he trained with, everyone whose name he knows except for Agen—they're all behind him now, and he can't go back.

Dogma's eyes burn, and he pulls the shirt on to hide it, trying to scrape together his composure.

When he gets it settled, looks up, Agen is still watching him, steady, unwavering. His eyes are brown, several shades darker than a clone’s eyes, and—

Warm, Dogma thinks, breath knotted in his throat. His eyes are warm when he looks at Dogma. It’s not a look Dogma is used to from anyone, his vod’e included. Dogma's never been easy to get along with, has never made friends well, has never been someone people like, and here, now, seeing that look—he has no idea what to do with it.

“Well met, Dogma,” Agen says, and bows his head, like he’s some noble or official greeting a senator or something. But the formality sticks in Dogma's chest, makes him feel strangely important, like a person.

He’s never quite felt that way before, interacting with someone who’s not a clone.

Something twists, deep in his chest, and Dogma has to look away before he makes another stupid decision.

He’s made so many of them lately, and at this point, he can't afford any more.

#kat answers #moon-ache

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highwayphantoms · 1 year

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Hi! I would love to see “Is it okay to hug you?” for Handers, or even Anders + a Hawke sibling with background Handers 👀

hello hello I wrote this a while ago and never remembered to post it! 😂 so here's some pre-relationship Handers for @dadrunkwriting

Words: 975 Warnings: nah

At first, Anders took little notice of Hawke's departure from the table. He had a winning hand for sure this time, and that was rare with Isabela at the table. But when she still hadn't returned after several rounds, Anders scooped up his meager winnings: a few coins that somehow seemed smaller than it was compared to the much larger pile Bela had amassed. As he got to his feet, Merrill glanced up from where she sat across from him and asked, "Oh, is it that late already?"

Anders waved her off and said, "I'll be back in a minute. Don't stop on my account."

Merrill brightened immediately, while Isabela said, "Give Hawke our love."

For a moment he considered asking if he was that obvious, then quickly concluded he didn't want to know the answer. Instead, he acknowledged Isabela with a nod and ducked out the door of Varric's suite. Though the front room of the Hanged Man was as crowded as usual for this time of day, Hawke usually managed to stand alone, her dog putting space between her and drunken strangers. Scanning over the room, he saw neither Hawke nor her dog, and Bear was not a small dog. Not getting drinks, then, and she had never seemed the sort of person who would sleep with just anyone. Still, Hawke didn't usually leave without telling anyone. For that matter, Hawke was usually the last to leave. More than once, he'd heard Varric complain that she'd passed out on the floor of his suite rather than go home.

Curiosity compelled him to navigate across the mass of drunks to the front door. The winter air cut right through his clothes, but it was refreshing at the same time.

Nothing felt as good as being outside.

He spotted Bear first, the dog's eyes glinting in the flickering light from the lantern outside the door. Though the dog's dark fur blended into the inky shadows, Hawke's bright red scarf did not. She was on the ground, slumped against a wall with her forehead pressed to her knees; Bear laid on the ground just in front of her, as still as a statue but for the gentle wagging of his nub of a tail.

Acutely aware of the way Hawke reacted to people getting in her space, Anders approached her but maintained a wary distance. For some unfathomable reason, he liked her, as prickly and difficult as she could be. Maker knew she was certainly no worse than Fenris. Maybe that's why they get on as well as they do, he thought with faint amusement. "Hey," he said, stiffly crouching down to be closer to her level. "Are we out in the cold for any particular reason?"

Without lifting her head or otherwise moving a muscle, Hawke said dully, "Fuck off."

"Mhm, I would, but Bear seems so happy to see me," he said mildly.

In apparent agreement, the dog barked softly.

Hawke made a frustrated sound, but said nothing.

"I've known you long enough to know something's wrong," he added. "You don't have to tell me what, but you can't sit out here all night."

"I can, and I will," she muttered. "Hawke," he said, faintly exasperated.

Finally, she picked her head up to glower at him. With clouds blotting out the moonlight and only one lantern to see by, he couldn't make out much of her face, but the way she rubbed at her eyes suggested she'd been crying.

That was… not like Hawke. Hawke didn't cry. She raged. Shouted. Cracked bad jokes. Snarked at people. Cast walls of ice purely to shatter them.

"You were there," she said flatly. "You heard what Aveline said."

Anders paused, trying to think of what Aveline could possibly have said. He generally tuned her out when she started echoing templar talking points—she never said anything he hadn't heard a thousand times before—but he was sure she hadn't said anything in that vein recently.

"Saved her life, and this is how she repays me?" Hawke muttered sullenly. "It's like I don't even exist."

Ah, he did vaguely remember Aveline talking over Hawke at one point. That wasn't particularly unusual either, but evidently Hawke had hit some kind of tipping point.

"You seem pretty real to me," Anders said lightly. "But I know how to prove it, if you don't believe me."

She snorted humorlessly. "How?"

"Can I hug you?"

For a moment, she didn't say anything. In truth, he'd expected one of her snarky retorts. Then, quietly, she said, "Okay."

Anders stood, and offered her his hand. For once, Hawke didn't hesitate—she was usually so reluctant to admit that she had trouble getting off the ground on her own. He pulled her up to her feet, then loosely wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Hawke stood frozen for a few seconds. Then, to his surprise, she turned and hugged him back. Her voice muffled somewhat by her face being pressed against his chest, Hawke mumbled, "I don't know why you're so nice to me."

"Despite your best efforts, you're my friend," he said mildly. Part of him wanted so much more than that, but spending as much time around two other apostates was dangerous enough as it was. The last thing any of them needed was a relationship that could be used against them.

"I guess," she replied quietly. After a few seconds, she released him and withdrew, taking a half step back. "I don't… I mean, I never really had friends."

"Well, you do now." Anders gestured loosely towards the Hanged Man and asked, "Are you going to come back in?"

She shook her head. "No, I… think I'll go home."

"Okay." He brushed aside the faint disappointment that washed over him, then added, "You know where to find me if you need anything."

#jay writes #dragon age #da fic #serafina hawke

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