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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year

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Can I confess something? Ugh, but I fucking love Aemond x Vhagar. Would die if you wrote some Vhagond smut.

You got it, dude.

How to Bang Your Dragon

Paring: Aemond x Vhagar Warnings: Smut, bestiality. Word count: ~1500

DISCLAIMER: This fic is intended as a joke between the author and their mutuals. This is in no way intended to be taken seriously. It will not be added to my masterlist or cross posted to A03. The author in no way condones bestiality. If you are easily offended, please do not click 'read more'.

Credit to @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for sending in this horrifying request. Artwork credit to the insanely talented and unhinged @osferthsbussy

Aemond had always been drawn to dragons. Throughout his childhood he’d longed for one, bitter at the fact that the egg placed in his cradle when he was born had never hatched. He was seemingly unable to bond with any of the unclaimed beasts that resided within the Dragonpit. He looked on in envy as his brother, Aegon, rode Sunfyre. Even his moonstruck sister, Helaena, had Dreamfyre.

It enraged Aemond that his bastard nephews Jacaerys and Lucerys had Vermax and Arrax. They weren’t even of pure Valyrian blood - how was it possible that their hatchlings had accepted them so readily? Little Joffrey’s egg had hatched too, giving him Tyraxes. Aemond lamented the unfairness of it all. It did not seem right that a Targaryen prince should be denied the simple pleasure of dragon riding.

Dragons fascinated him in a way that he could never quite put his finger on. To all those around him, his behaviour seemed obsessive. His brother and nephews even went as far as to play a cruel prank on him by leading him to the Dragonpit under the premise of having found him a dragon of his own, only to then present him with a pig. Still, this did not deter his ambition. He set about learning everything there was to know about these majestic creatures. He read every book that the Red Keep’s library had to offer and even asked the maesters to acquire more from Old Town once he’d exhausted what was immediately available to him.

The night following Laena Velaryon’s death is a night that will remain as his fondest memory. The vision of Vhagar flying high above Dragonstone, now riderless, had taken his breath away. As he’d watched her land on a nearby cliff edge, it was as if something he was powerless to resist drew him to her.

He’d been fearful on first approach; Vhagar was the largest dragon in the world, and she could end his life with a single snap of her jaws. However, when she didn’t balk at his approach, his confidence blossomed. A peculiar sensation he’d never experienced before had spread throughout his body, aiding his next actions.

“Vhagar, lykirī!” he’d commanded, ordering the gargantuan reptile before him to be calm as she rumbled a growl at him. “Dohaerās, Vhagar!” he’d shouted to be heard, ordering her to obey him.

His skin had broken out into gooseflesh upon first touching the rough scales of her expansive back. He was propelled by excitement as he’d scaled the enormity of her, before finally settling into her saddle. His heart was racing so hard he feared it may burst from his chest. However, a death on dragonback would be a worthwhile one.

“Sōvēs,” Aemond ordered, causing Vhagar to beat her enormous wings, taking to the air. She was now his and nothing would change that. He felt unstoppable. He felt a kinship with Vhagar that he’d never experienced with anyone else.

“Sesīr kipi!” he’d urged her forward, whooping and laughing as she’d soared through the clouds. He had never experienced exhilaration like it. Finally, he was a dragonrider - and not just any dragonrider. He had the most powerful dragon in the world.

The price he’d paid for her that night had been costly, but it mattered not to Aemond. He may have lost an eye, but he’d gained his soulmate. He’d gladly give up any number of appendages if it meant he got to keep his beloved Vhagar.

The day of his thirteenth name day, Aegon had taken Aemond to a pleasure house in the Silk Streets.

“Time to get it wet,” Aegon had smirked.

Aemond had been horrified, but went along with it anyway, he felt pressured and did not want to add to the long list of things that Aegon already teased him for.

However, as the whore above him had moaned and rolled her hips, Aemond had laid there motionless. He did not feel anything. Surely this was not normal? He should feel pleasure.

It was then the realisation hit him. The only time he’d ever felt what he was supposed to be feeling in this moment was when he was with Vhagar.

Aemond felt mortified by this fact. Such feelings for a being that was not human were an abomination. He had buried those feelings deep, ignoring the flutter in his chest and the swelling between his legs whenever he was in his dragon’s presence.

As the years passed and temptation grew harder to resist, Aemond reasoned that Vhagar must feel the same way for him. Surely there must have been a reason she’d allowed a mere boy to claim her? She was the largest dragon in the world and had carried the infamous Visenya Targaryen upon her back. There was no way she would have allowed him to claim her if the attraction was not mutual.

The first time that Aemond had tried to couple with Vhagar had been unsuccessful. She’d roared in protest, almost crushing him underfoot.

He’d left her, knowing he’d done something wrong. He revisited his research in the library, focusing specifically on dragon anatomy and was determined that, if he were to try again, he would be prepared.

Which brings him to the present moment. He stands beneath Vhagar, his stiff cock in his hand and a pail of oil at his feet. The kitchen staff had given him an odd look when he’d asked for so much, but thankfully his status had allowed him to forego too many prodding questions.

“Rȳbās,” he says gently to Vhagar, dipping the hand not holding his prick into the oil and beginning to massage her cloaca.

He knows from having read about dragon anatomy that this is the chamber into which the intestinal, urinary, and genital tracts open. It will not open without stimulation if he is to have access to the part he desires most.

As he continues to rub at Vhagar, she rumbles in approval, the vent opening and allowing Aemond’s questing hand inside.

He pumps lazily at his cock at the sensation of how cold and wet she feels. So different to that of a human female cunny, yet so much more appealing.

When Aemond feels he has provided enough attention to the area, he grips the underside of Vhagar, hauling himself up so that he is suspended upside down, holding onto her underside with both hands and feet and slides himself home.

He grunts as his aching member is swallowed whole by the enormity of the opening. He has to thrust wildly to gain any sort of friction and yet the sensation is absolutely divine. He has never known ecstasy like it.

It is only when Vhagar elicits an angry snort that he remembers that this experience should be for her pleasure too. Aemond knows that there is a bundle of nerves at the apex of a woman’s sex which allows for her to feel exquisite sexual pleasure. He has learned from his extensive research that dragons possess two of these.

He swivels his hips from side to side as he continues to thrust, with the aim to try and hit both, wanting Vhagar to feel every bit as good as he does.

“Māzīs,” he coos to her, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he nears his own end.

He gasps, dropping down to the floor when he hears the tittering laugh of his brother, Aegon.

“I knew it!” Aegon gloats, a smirk on his face that suggests he finds the entire situation entertaining.

Aemond says nothing, staring angrily at Aegon for ruining his orgasm. He stuffs his oily cock back into his breeches.

“Jace and I always used to joke that you loved dragons so much because you wanted to fuck one,” Aegons says with a smirk. “Now I know it was not a joke. Who’s the depraved one now, brother?”

“Shut up!” Aemond hisses. “You would not understand… What Vhagar and I have is beyond the realm of human comprehension. This is what true love is!”

“You are deluded,” Aegon scoffs. “And I cannot wait to tell mother all about her favourite son’s adventures with his dear old dragon. Perhaps I will no longer seem so bad.”

Aemond stares in horror as Aegon walks away. Alicent cannot know of what he has done; she would put a stop to it. She’d never allow him to be with Vhagar.

Panic stricken, Aemond knows he must escape if his relationship with his beloved is to continue.

Hastily, he mounts Vhagar - this time on her back - and gives the command to fly. They do not descend until they have reached a land that is far out of reach from the interference of his family.

There he is able to finish what he started. His orgasm is earth shattering as he spends inside of Vhagar with a loud groan. Though he knows it is an impossibility for him to impregnate her, he cannot help but think she would hatch him the most beautiful dragon-children.

As Aemond drifts off into a satisfied slumber, lulled by the feeling of his dragon’s hardened skin against his cheek, he cannot help but think that if their love is wrong, then he never wants to be right.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon

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piipaw · 4 months

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Get to Know Your Tav!

I got tagged by @tavsboots and it's been really fun to fill this out! I have 100 things thought out about my Tav but no real place to put them so this was a great exercise ;w;

Gum ( hathcing-name redacted) | Githyanki | Cleric of Mystra | He/They | Age: It's a mystery

What is your Tav’s…

Favorite Weapon: Specifically the Blood of Lathander. As a general tho something one handed with a shield.

Style of Combat: One of two flavors: Run in swinging, or summon as many things as possible while buffing the team.

Most Prized Possession: I know this is meant to be a tangible item, but Gum literally prays every time he eats a good piece of fruit I'm gonna say his prized possession is just simply being free.

Deepest Desire: To live peacefully. Growing up in his creche like peace was never an option, having denounced all that and escape that upbringing has left him seeking out to understand the things he's missed.

Guilty Pleasure: Fruit. Soaking in bodies of water (lakes, rivers, pools, bathtubs, ect.) he years for a good soak, hot or iced.

Best-Kept Secret: He doesn't really know what's going on a lot of the time and his silence isn't him being a composed thought out leader, it's him observing the others to make the best educated guess.

Greatest Strength: Gratitude? Forgiveness? Acceptance? Non Applicable.

Fatal Flaw: Stubborn and bad at reading social cues (he's improving)

Favorite Smell: In a present state I think his favorite smell would be something like the smell of books (parchment) or like Sandalwood. But like a deep seated childhood core memory smell for him would be something more like burnt meat.

Favorite Spell or Cantrip: Spirit Guardians!!! But also Hero's feast

Pet Peeve: When others refer to him as unintelligent/stupid over things that cause culture shock (ex: calling him dumb for not understanding why pieces on display in a museum can't just be taken).

Bad Habit: Overthinks and miscommunicates. Used to be really confident before his social outcasting at his old creche.

Hidden Talent: Really good at identifying things by smell that should not be picked up in some way (ex: 'idk you smelled anxious')

Leisure Activity: Reading and Jogging

Favorite Drink: Hot drinks: Cider. Cold drinks: Water

Comfort Food: Space hampster 100% Kiwi (he's allergic and also wouldn't know not to just bite like its a hand fruit at first)

Favorite Person: Gale! He's got a complicated relationship with Lae'zel but she is also very important to him. Also very protective towards Astarion.

Favored Display of Affection (platonic and/or romantic): (platonic) If he's close with you and you're shorter than him (likely) He'll definitely rest his chin on your head (especially if you're showing him something). (romantic) For Gale I think he's go out of his way to give Gale's ear's a lot of attention (very round, very cute, unlike his own) but for Astarion he'd really enjoy just holding hands and sweeping his thumb over his knuckles.

Fondest Childhood Memory: Gum def doesn't have many if any fond memories from his childhood. Anything he once considered fond/proud of isn't really reflective to him at current and probably brings more sadness than anything. No longer propelled by having to fight or competing for something greater, I think he's just happy to make new memories.

Time.... to Tag!!!

@violentlyexplosive @terrible-eel @nalhegrande @nycteres @galedekkarios

and anyone else who reads this and also wants to fill it out!!! Pls pls message me if you want to talk about our tavs together :,,)

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #tav ask game #get to know your tav #gumposting

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imperical-shop · 21 days

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A Moment in the Rain

I made a sticker and this idea popped into my head 😊 So here it is, a short Zutara story! 🔥💧

Summary: Katara came to love the Fire Nation, despite history. The new rule and her role in it proved to benefit everyone. But sometimes, she had those moments when home felt too far away, especially when she hadn’t visited it in years.

Words: 1940+

Tags: Katara is a bit sad but Zuko is here to help; Zutara all the way; fluffy; set into the future

She awoke by the sudden soft thuds on the window. Glancing outside, waiting till her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed small droplets sliding down the windowpane, raising in number the more she stared at them, speeding one after the other.

Her heart leaped at the thought of rain. She had missed it so much. It wasn’t a common occurrence in this part of the world so each time she got even a bit of possibility to see it, feel it, the waterbender grasped it and clung to it tightly. Even as a girl, she had loved the rain. Something about the freedom of the flow and the smell of freshness it lay around.

Katara wasn’t unaccustomed to the heat. But a part of her missed the cold glove each season wore in the Water Tribes and the way it would sneak up on your exposed skin, sending goosebumps down your spine. She’d been mesmerized at how the older benders in her village played with the droplets, putting on a little show for the kids, laughter erupting around them. Those were some of her fondest memories.

Careful not to wake him, Katara slid out of bed and walked up to the balcony window. Her hand on the handle, she lightly pressed it and waited before opening the door, wanting to make sure there was no gush of wind accompanying the rain. When nothing swooshed and nothing pushed against her rigid form, the waterbender relaxed and slipped out into the rain.

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

Zuko felt something cold sweep over his bare upper arm, making him tug the blanket over himself and move closer to the girl beside him. Only he couldn’t find her no matter how much he shuffled to her side. The now Fire Lord roamed the bed with his hand but all he touched were the sheets of the bed - the same ones stretched below him.

He opened his eyes noticing she was nowhere around him, holding his breath for a second so he could hear whether or not she was in the bathroom. But the water wasn’t running, the light wasn’t on. Zuko furrowed his eyebrows. It wasn’t like her to disappear into the night just like that.

At that moment, strange sounds pulled his attention to the side. It was like tiny hands knocked on the window in such a soft manner that if he hadn’t tried to hear her movements, the firebender probably wouldn’t have paid them any attention.

Rain.

Zuko wasn’t keen on the whole precipitation thing in any form. It usually meant cold was either coming or had already arrived. But in the past several years, he found to accept it.

Our blood runs hot, fire lives in our souls and molds our bones, so touching those creatures of the cold can only sting us.

He smiled at that memory of his first teachings. It had been some time since he’d been so strongly convinced of this belief. That water could damage him irreparably. That it could be the destruction of everything he held dear - every moral, every “truth” instilled in him like iron forged under fire into a deadly weapon.

But then her arrival had come like a tide over a firestorm. Water wasn’t his enemy anymore but the means to his survival, the anchor holding him sane, the spark of life he had long neglected in hopes of achieving some indoctrinated belief. Katara had been his fresh start - one where he wouldn’t have to hide behind masks or sentences learned by heart only spoken to please the listener. No, with her he could finally be himself. The lonely boy who had always wanted only one thing - a family.

The sky outside flickered and he saw the rain double in strength. It was no longer soft and drizzling, but it ran with a ferocious force. Zuko felt restless, his heart racing faster. He was safe inside; they all were. But if only he knew where she was and he could fall back asleep soundly. Unfortunately, the firebender was still missing that piece of the puzzle.

So, he got up and was just about to circle the bed and go for the door of the room when he felt the cold grip his ankles and hold tight. Turning around, Zuko noticed the drapes of the balcony door slightly swinging left and right. He didn’t need any more clues because he understood right away.

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

Kami, it felt good! Katara couldn’t remember the last time it had rained in the Fire Nation. Maybe it had been years ago but it had never been this strong. Each drop hitting her face felt like air was breathed into her. Like a flower reviving its roots and blossoms once water touches it, the waterbender stood with her head tilted back and hands limply hanging on her sides, letting the rain pour down on her.

She loved staying in the Fire Nation - the new Fire Nation. Zuko was the most graceful, kind, and compassionate ruler she’d seen. And although some prescribed these traits to her presence, Katara knew they were all but words tossed in the wind. Their King owed nothing to her or anyone else. Everything he was, he had built himself; despite it all going against him. She had only been there to lend her support.

But this newfound admiration for the Fire Nation wasn’t the same as for her tribe. She missed home, missed Soka and Suki, their mischievous daughter; she missed the smell of cold and the way it would engrave itself every morning from the second she’d open her eyes. And the warmth in that coldness… Huddled up in their igloo-like homes, listening to stories about their ancestors and the great Avatar.

She would lie if she said she didn’t miss them. It had been quite some time since she’d been back. Who would’ve thought that being the Fire Lady would be such a tedious task?

A pair of hands snaked around her waist and she felt her back gain the warmth it had lost in the rain. Her head rested on his shoulder, his lips brushing along her clavicle. It was a strange type of magic that wrapped around her when he was near. She was all water and yet his mere presence made her insides burn - a fire ignite in the depths of the ocean.

“What are you doing outside?” His raspy voice told her he was still fighting off sleep.

“Enjoying the rain,” she said, letting her eyes roam around the streets below the balcony.

They had an entire view of the city, keeping a watchful eye over its residents. Zuko had insisted this room had been made into his private chambers, wanting to always be able to jump into action wherever he may be needed. That action alone had told her everything Katara had needed to know.

“We should go inside. You can catch a cold here,” he told her through timid breaths, leaving small pecks on her neck.

“I’m pretty sure a small rain won’t do me harm,” the waterbender chuckled, wrapping her hands around his. “Maybe you should go inside.” Katara felt her clothes sticking to her skin, her hair dripping with water, so she didn’t need to look at him to know he was in the same state. And as much as she loved the water, Zuko…

“I’m good,” he replied as he pulled her flush to his skin.

A part of her wanted to argue, telling him to get inside because she knew he was the one who would get sick faster under the rain. But the other part of her knew Zuko was too stubborn and would rather sit outside in the (what was now) pouring rain than go inside without her.

Seeing no way out, Katara huffed with a smile on her face and turned around to face him. She cupped his cheeks, staring into his eyes doused in drowsiness and in that moment she was sure she had done the right thing by staying.

“Let’s go inside.”

“Katara,” he said with a tinge of worry in his voice, grabbing one of her hands and holding it down, drawing small circles with his thumb over it. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“These,” he lifted his other hand and swept over her face with his thumb, lightly touching his hand to her cheek, “are not just raindrops.” Her eyes opened up - she had no idea she’d been crying. “Are you hurt?”

“No!” She was quick to answer, laughing in hopes that that would ease him down. “I actually don’t know.” Using the root of her palm, the girl brushed over her eyes, rubbing them to get rid of the stains.

“What happened?”

Each word was laced with concern even after she had tried to play it off, but here he was, still insistent on it. That was a trait she found she loved about him. A trait he had learned how to weave into his ruling.

“I was just looking at the rain.” Katara turned around, slipping back into his embrace, her hands pulling his around her waist. “It felt like home. You know, the Water Tribes.” Silence fell upon them, the rain hitting the nearby roofs and tiles being the only thing breaking the void. “I miss them,” she voiced out almost in a whisper. “I miss Soka and Suki. I haven’t seen them in a while. I miss the cold from there. And the water.”

“I see,” Zuko murmured, his head resting on her side.

“But I like it here,” the waterbender quickly added, sensing that her silly wishes could be interpreted as sadness and doubt about her past choices. “I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Except the Southern Water Tribe.”

“I…” She desperately wanted to argue her case, go against his words, but deep down she knew they were right. No matter how happy she was here, she really wanted to see her home. “Except the Southern Water Tribe,” she repeated with much less vigor in her words than before.

They both stood in the rain for a few minutes, simply watching the city and the tiny lights dancing around. Katara noticed in the distance a small figure happily jumping over a few puddles, somersaulting and then going back for it again once it made its landing. She squinted her eyes, but it was still blurry. A flicker of her finger and the rain parted like a curtain being lifted so a bit of sun could enter the area. And there it was - a tiny mouse jumping happily at each drop, dancing around them, and rejoicing in each splash.

It made her smile again. Happiness really was in the small things. Good or bad, storm or rainbow, life was just that. And she would embrace it all!

“Let’s go in,” she said, exiting Zuko’s hug and pulling him by the hand. Just as she was about to enter the room, Katara was lightly pulled back, making her turn around and look at her husband expectantly.

“Are you happy here?”

The sheer sadness in those words broke the sound barrier of the rain around them, echoing in her heart, each soundwave painfully striking her chest. Was he really doubting that? Had her words affected him so much?

Katara moved closer to him, cupped his cheeks, and said, “More than I’ve ever been before.” Giving herself a little push up, she pressed her lips to his, hoping the kiss would chase away any doubt.

“Good,” Zuko said when they moved apart, a smile gracing his features. “‘Cause I was thinking we need a vacation. How about the Southern Water Tribe?”

#zutara #avatar the last airbender #zuko #katara #atla #atla zuko #atla katara #atla fanfic #atla zutara #zuko x katara #fire lord zuko #fire lady katara #imperical #different designs for different needs ✨

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thebibutterflyao3 · 2 months

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Day 18 - Prompt: Purpose @pandalilymicrofics

February Daily Series - 762 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Lily pressed her finger onto the back of the tarot card to slide it out of the fanned deck. She flipped it over and stared at the blond figure in a long, floral shirt with a dog at his side and a satchel over his shoulder.

The Fool? I’m a fool for imagining myself in London, or for imagining myself with her?

“Oh.” Lily’s breath rushed out at once as she studied the card. “The Fool.”

“Ah, you assume the worst,” Madame Trelawney drawled. The psychic scraped her nail over the card, then glanced meaningfully toward Pandora. “The Fool is a sign of new beginnings. A new journey or adventure awaits you, if you are open to it. Are you considering a big change in your life? A shift in purpose, perhaps?”

Lily nodded slowly as relief settled in her chest. “Yes, I’m planning a move to London.”

Trelawney’s face lit up and she clapped loudly. “Excellent! I see a bright future in that path for you, my dear.”

My dear? This woman has to be close to my age.

“Really?” Lily tried to inject some level of believable excitement into her voice. Regardless of what this card meant, it was plainly calling her a fool and that didn’t inspire confidence.

“Yes! Indeed, indeed. There is an important element to The Fool that you must not overlook though,” she cautioned. The psychic studied Lily’s face intently, then smiled.

“I see that you are guided primarily by logic, which is a wise course when your fondest desires overwhelm good sense, but it often prevents you from taking risks,” Trelawney commented as she pointed to the edge of the cliff that The Fool was stepping on.

“I suggest that you pursue this new path with your intuition at the forefront instead. Trust that feeling deep within your core that never steers you wrong. It is far more trustworthy than your mind.”

“Intuition. How do I know if it’s my intuition guiding me rather than my ‘fondest desires?’”

“Can they not be one and the same?”

Lily shrugged, but the truth in Trelawney’s assessment gave her pause. Logic was her guide in all things. It was a constant, reliable barometer for keeping her emotions in check. With logic to fall back on — to blame, really — Lily was confident that her decisions were sound.

Risks were fine, within reason. Lily wasn’t immune to the delight from conceding to an impulse. However, she’d never considered that the urgency of this pull to London could be an intuitive response to her dreams of living there. Instead, she chalked it up to a wish and positioned the move as a long-term goal.

A logical conclusion.

“In order to reap the full benefit of this adventure, you must be open to new possibilities. Even when they seem impossible, or out of reach,” Trelawney continued.

She lifted the card and pointed to the bundle the fellow carried. “Don’t abandon your principles, they serve you well, and nurture a love of learning.”

Her finger moved to the puppy bounding at his side. “Keep your dearest friends and supportive family members close. Those that truly care about you will help rein you in, if you go too far.”

Then, Trelawney pointed to the flower in his hand. “And don’t forget to appreciate the beauty that you find along the way. Not just the physical, but the mental, emotional, and spiritual too.”

Lily glanced at Pandora out of the corner of her eye. She stood silent and unmoving in front of the basket of crystals with a pale pink stone clutched in her hand. Assuming the woman was listening, Lily refocused on the card and tried to find a detail to ask about. She felt compelled to prove that she was taking this seriously.

“Does the sun mean anything?”

“Generally, the sun is favourable. It represents happiness, success, or promise.”

She hummed thoughtfully, then lifted her gaze to meet Madame Trelawney’s wide, brown eyes. “Thank you. This was actually quite interesting. As you said, it’s my first reading and I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” the psychic gushed. “It was a pleasure to read for you, my dear.”

As Lily paid the woman for her time, she noticed Pandora’s sudden jolt into motion again. It amused her that Pandora became so deeply invested in the details of her reading. Lily was curious if she currently wore the same dazed expression as when she was lost in thought.

I wonder what it’s like to be lost in her thoughts.

Next Part>>>

#lily x pandora #lily evans #pandora lovegood x lily evans #pandora lovegood #pandolily #pandalily microfics #pandalily #pandora rosier #pandor

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the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink · 1 year

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If you need an excuse to write for G-Way I can ALWAYS use some kind of snuggly G-Way fic.

Like ...maybe Christmas shopping? Something fun and seasonal...baking cookies??? Snow...something? (I dunno...it's 50° F right now so like ...snow is pretty far off from the south in my neck of the USA)

Anywho...do whatcha want friend, and feel better! :)

💖💖💖🪦

A Hazy Shade of Winter (Gerard Way x reader)

Summary: (y/n)’s never really been the type of person to do Christmassy things before - they don’t hate it, their family was just never that bothered! But Gerard loves all things Christmas, and he decides to show them just how much fun this time of year can be.

Words: 2696

Warnings: none it’s just adorable

AN: it was snowing while I was writing this!!! I haven’t seen proper snow in years!!!

“I can still feel you staring at me. Aren’t you bored yet?”

“I just can’t believe you’ve never made a gingerbread house before!”

(y/n) rolled their eyes with a laugh, glancing back over their shoulder. Gerard was still sitting at the little dining table, so distracted by that monumental bombshell that he’d stopped swinging back and forth on the chair. Had anyone else seen him, they would probably have assumed that he’d just been told the world was going to end. He looked genuinely devastated, baffled at the idea that something he’d loved so much as a kid hadn’t been a part of his partner’s life too.

Drying the last mug, they tossed the tea towel aside and moved to sit opposite him. “Look, it’s not that big of a deal. My family just wasn’t ever that bothered about Christmas, that’s all.��

“But it’s so much fun!” He couldn’t help but frown - so many of his fondest memories had come from enjoying the Christmas season with his family. Sure, there were some parts he hadn’t enjoyed; church services were always far too long and dull for his liking. But there were so many things that would never fail to make him smile. Begging to be the one to carry the Christmas tree home, even though there was no way in hell he was capable of carrying it all that way and hated asking for help. Hiding all his vegetables in very elaborate ways so he’d have tons of room for all the wonderful sweet things on offer. Saving tiny scraps of funky wrapping paper to fill in the gaps of the collage of random crap that covered the walls of his basement room.

The one memory that stood out among all of those was the gingerbread house. Every year, his family had turned the kitchen into an absolute bombsite, trying to outdo themselves and what they’d designed in years past. They actually had a photo album somewhere, thick with pictures of every possible angle of each year’s creation. Every detail had to be perfect: the boiled sweet windows, the piped design for the roof, the little people posed to go about their daily activities. It had started out as a replica of their family, but had soon descended into utter madness. One year, there had been gingerbread aliens and a questionable rendition of Batman and Robin, soon joined by some even worse looking gingerbread zombies. Usually these little additions were Gerard or Mikey’s idea - and their mom was rarely impressed by the way they spoiled her nice tidy handiwork - but it really did make the whole thing something special. Entirely unique to their family.

“And every time you’ve spoken about it, it’s sounded like a great time! And the photos your mom has are incredible.” They smiled, seeing his face brighten up a little. “It’s just... never how my family did things, that’s all. Usually at least one of my parents was working on the day so we never did much through the rest of December. Christmas always felt... I don’t know, a bit anticlimactic? I don’t think the seasonal depression helped either.”

They’d only been together for four months, and there was still so much they had to learn about each other. Clearly, they’d had very different experiences growing up - neither had been bad, just different. And the wonderful thing about that was that it meant they could teach each other all the little things that they had done as kids! There were so many traditions that they could share and combine now, creating new ones that were entirely their own.

Gerard got to his feet, taking (y/n) by the hand and pulling them to stand by the counter. “Let’s make a gingerbread house together.”

“But I don’t know how.”

“That doesn’t matter. I can teach you, and if things go wrong then we’ll just make it up as we go along anyway. That’s half the fun.”

He looked so hopeful, eyes sparkling with childish glee, and there was simply no way they could say no to him. “Okay. But you can’t blame me if we end up setting your kitchen on fire.”

“Hey, joint effort, joint blame. Now, I’m pretty sure I’ve got everything we need in here somewhere...”

It took just about fifteen minutes for him to search through the cupboards, but in the end he’d managed to find everything the two of them would need to make the gingerbread. While he’d been looking, (y/n) had dug through his cupboards for a mixing bowl and baking sheets, excited by the thought of baking together again. They’d tried to make cupcakes a couple of weeks prior, but they had come out slightly burnt because they’d been distracted scraping the remaining batter out of the bowl. It had been tons of fun, and they just knew that this would be the same.

Gerard took the lead, directing his partner to weigh out the right amount of each ingredient while he melted the butter, sugar and syrup together. They were following instructions from a slightly stained handwritten recipe, a sheet written up by his mother that was a little sticky in places - clearly, it was one that got brought out and used on a regular basis.

When it came to kneading the dough, they ended up having to split the mixture in half so they could both get involved; then it became a competition, both trying to create the most phallic shapes they could. That’s what happens when you let two people with the emotional maturity of twelve year olds into a kitchen - food fights and inappropriate jokes.

They let the dough rest for a little while, killing time by leaving floury handprints on each other’s butts and working their way through a bag of chocolate chips that had been hiding in the back of one of the cupboards. When it came to rolling the dough out, they were a little more well behaved - at first. After creating enough rectangular sheets for the walls and roof, along with two little people to represent themselves and some extra details to add, like window frames and doors, all of the leftover dough was used for normal gingerbread cookies. Well, if you can call gingerbread dicks and disproportionate hands flipping the middle finger ‘normal’. After a moment of thinking they added Gerard’s bandmates to the mix too, throwing in some cookies shaped like Frank’s dogs for good measure.

While the dough was in the fridge, they cleaned up all the mess they’d made so far - before creating even more when (y/n) knocked over the bag of sugar. Well, it wasn’t entirely their fault. The only reason their elbow had ended up hitting it in the first place was because Gerard had taken them by surprise, pinning them against the counter and kissing them so hard it felt like they would never breathe properly again.

The beep of the timer stopped their little make out session from going any further and they worked to fit all the trays of gingerbread in the oven at once, both a little red and flustered. As they brought the last tray over, (y/n) stopped dead, staring out the window in wonder.

“When did it snow?”

There was probably a foot of snow on the ground; it seemed like it had appeared out of nowhere! Like it had just flopped out of the sky in one big sheet and landed with a soft thump in a pillowy layer or pure white. Neither of them had noticed it start to fall (probably because they’d been so busy with their tongues down each other’s throats) and the dim afternoon seemed so much brighter now that it had something to reflect off.

The gingerbread only needed ten minutes in the oven, and when it was finished Gerard cleared some space on the counter and set the trays out to cool. Both of them grinned as the smell of sweet gingerbread filled the kitchen, before hissing in pain - at exactly the same time, they had reached for one of the spare cookies and burnt their fingertips. That made the pair of them crack up laughing at their own idiocy, lamenting the fact that they would have to wait for everything to cool down before they could try their creation. So they finished the last of the cleaning instead, bouncing ideas for decorations back and forth.

“What about a little woolly sweater on the dog?”

“We should put ‘elf’ on Frank’s jumper because he’s so tiny.”

“Hey, let’s ice a string of lights around all the windows!”

“I’ll call my mom and ask her how to make the snow out of marshmallow, she always does that and it’s insanely cool.”

By now the real snow outside was falling thick and fast again, blanketing the ground outside with at least two feet of soft white flakes. Gerard couldn’t help but smile at the look of sheer awe on his partner’s face as they stared out of the window, fingers resting lightly against the glass.

“It’s pretty, huh? Not quite as pretty as you, though.”

They didn’t really register the second thing he said, lost in the glorious swirling eddies outside. “I... I’ve never seen snow like this before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Where I’m from, all we ever got was a crappy layer of slush, or black ice deadly enough to break your neck. I don’t think we ever had more than an inch of actual snow at any one time.”

Resting a hand on the small of their back, he nuzzled against the side of their head. “Wanna go out and play for a little while?”

“I thought we were gonna start decorating?”

“Oh, we can’t do that for a good few hours, at least. The gingerbread needs a while to cool. And, if we’re using my mom’s tricks - which we definitely are, by the way, she is the undisputed queen of gingerbread - then we should leave it overnight. She always says its better when it’s had time to rest properly.”

“Ah.” (y/n) was quiet for a moment, and he started to think that maybe something he’d done had touched a nerve. Maybe he’d upset them somehow. Maybe something he’d said at some point had made their thoughts wander somewhere a little unpleasant. But then they turned to look at him, a quiet sort of hope flickering in their eyes. “Can we... can we make snow angels?”

“Hey, of course we can! They might not be there by the morning though, with the way that snow’s falling it wouldn’t surprise me if we woke up to a couple more feet.”

“That’s fine. I’ve just never done it before.”

“Oh, so we are absolutely doing it today then. Come on.”

Within five minutes, the pair of them had their shoes on and were zipping up each other’s coats, sifting through the drawers of random crap in the hall cupboard to find enough hats, scarves and gloves to keep them both nice and cosy. The second they were all bundled up, Gerard took (y/n) by the hand and practically dragged them into his backyard. The snow came up to their knees, soaking through their jeans - the cold was uncomfortable, but it soon became easy to ignore. The very first thing the two of them did was lay backwards, (y/n) squeaking as snow slipped into the hood of their coat. Once they were laid flat, Gerard explained just how snow angels worked, giggling a little as his coat swished against the snowy ground with every movement. They got the hang of it soon enough, feeling a bit uncoordinated at first but very much enjoying it anyway.

When he was satisfied with the mark he’d left, Gerard struggled back to his feet and hauled his lover upwards, kissing them deeply. “Hey, look what we did!”

They glanced down, smiling at the sight before them. The two snow angels were slightly wonky - like the people who’d created them - and close enough to be almost holding hands. They were ever so slightly marred by footprints, but beautiful nonetheless.

(y/n) beamed, cheeks feeling red raw from the cold wind. “Aw, they’re so cute! They look just like the ones you see in cartoons.”

“I know, right? Now, you feeling up to a little snow friend as well? Or are you getting too cold?”

“Snow friend, definitely.”

By the time they had managed to roll two decent sized balls - one for a body and one for a head - their noses were bright red and neither of them could really feel their fingers any more. But they just weren’t ready to go back inside yet; they were having far too much fun! Who cares about a little frostbite when you’re having the time of your life with the person you love?

Finding things to decorate their snow friend with was a little more challenging - by now, the snow was thick enough that they weren’t going to find anything on the ground to use. So they had to get creative. The standard carrot for the nose was pretty easy to find in the kitchen - and along with it came two frozen brussels sprouts for the eyes. Deciding that it was doing very little against the cold anyway, (y/n) donated their scarf to their new little buddy. Gerard liked that idea and gave up his hat, a dusting of snow settling across his hair as he tried to fit it onto the head. The two of them were a bit stuck for ideas on what to use for the arms, eventually deciding on a pair of spare drumsticks that they found in his office - why Gerard had drumsticks, neither of them really knew. They'd just sort of appeared there.

Standing in front of their slightly lopsided creation, Gerard wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and grinned. "Well they're a little crooked, but very sweet. Any ideas on a name?"

They thought for a moment, shivering now they had stopped moving around so much. "They kinda look like a Norman to me."

"Norman, huh? Yeah, I think that fits." The twilight above them was quickly darkening, and both of them were definitely feeling the cold. "Wanna head in now?"

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I haven't been able to feel my toes for the last twenty minutes."

When they got back inside, the smell of gingerbread seemed even stronger than it had done earlier, and the two of them felt instantly warmer - even though their fingertips were a slightly questionable shade of purple. They left their damp gloves and coats hanging up to dry by the door, giggling all the way up the stairs as they peeled off their icy wet clothes and searched through Gerard's drawers to find something for (y/n) to wear. It was getting to the point in their relationship now where they were staying over at his house with some regularity, and he was considering asking if they'd like to have a drawer to keep some stuff in. They already had a toothbrush in his bathroom. That was just the next natural step.

Once they were both in warmer, drier clothes, they went back down to the kitchen, still cold to the bone but slowly warming up. Gerard made hot chocolate for each of them, piling each mug with such a large amount of whipped cream and marshmallows that it was practically impossible to drink without making a complete mess of things.

As they snuggled up on the couch, huddling under the blankets and letting the mugs warm their hands, Gerard pressed a kiss to the side of (y/n)'s head. "So, did I successfully get you to enjoy some Christmassy things today?"

"Yeah, you did." They smiled softly, nuzzling against him. "I can enjoy anything when I'm with you."

"You might not say that tomorrow when I start icing those gingerbread men to look like storm troopers instead of us."

"I bet I can ice better looking ones than you can."

"Oh, you've just started a gingerbread war."

"Yeah, and I'll win."

"I'd like to see you try."

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ddesertmoon · 1 year

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Batman Fic Recs Feat. Time Travel

My favorite time travel fics with the batfam. I’ll mention if there are any ships :)

The View From Jade by lowflyingfruit

“Being transported to the past is not the sort of thing one normally expects. But this having happened, and with no easy way back, Jason's determined to make the most of it. Though the Bat still stalks Gotham's streets, the city's crime is run by the mobs instead of the rogues. There's no Joker yet.

There's no Robin.

Maybe there shouldn't be.”

I love this one! It’s got a lot of interactions between young Dick and Jason and they’re just precious

Fairy Godbrother by envysparkler

“What are brothers for?

(Or: some minor dimensional travel, pseudo-kidnapping, and a whole lot of meddling.)”

(I think it’s technically dimensional travel because there are two separate timelines, but one of the dimensions is moving at a different pace so I’m counting it.) Great interactions between the batfam:)

The Rule Stands by Engineered

“‘I know what you’re going to say, Batman,’ Damian said, shrugging the hand off his shoulder. ‘You’re going to tell me that Nightwing is dead, and that people don’t come back from the dead. Well, clearly you are wrong, seeing that you were dead and I was dead and Red Hood was dead and even Superman was once dead-’

‘My parents are dead,’ Father interrupted. ‘Nightwing’s parents are dead. There have been a few notable exceptions in extenuating circumstances, Robin, but the rule stands. Everyone can die.’”

Damian and young Dick bond and Damian learns that his big brother wasn’t always the dependable hero he knew him as.

A Good Place by LemonadeGarden

“Damian Wayne is kidnapped and sent back years through time. Together, he and Father – who's only been Batman for a mere six months –must figure out how to return him to his own time.

Over the course of the next week, Damian discovers that Mexican gangsters do not mess around, that social workers find Bruce annoying, that Bruce might be a little messed up, and that crystal chandeliers create the fondest memories.

Oh. And Alfred has hair.”

Pre-children Bruce bonds with Damian, who is able to see how much becoming a father changed Bruce.

Two Dead Birds by InsaneTrollLogic

“There's some lunatic in a red helmet running through Jason's territory. He wants to think it's a copycat.

He's wrong.”

Jason Todd regretting his past decisions and trying to work with his family? Fuck yeah.

show me yesterday, for i can’t find today by indent

“Then: The year is 2013. Jason Todd is alive, fourteen years old, and about to follow Sheila Haywood, his birth mother, into the hands of the Joker. All he wants is to save her life.

Now: The year is 2018. Jason Todd was dead. But now he's a nineteen year old vigilante about to take down the latest C-Lister rogue. Unfortunately for him, its a rogue that specialises in time-travel technology. And what starts as an easy takedown...ends as a time travelling phenomenon.

The two Jasons swap places.”

A reconciliation fic with *jazz hands* time travel!!

Take It Back Now Y’all by TimTheToaster (tabletoptime)

“There was absolutely no way this sunshine was from Gotham in April.

Not possible.

Which meant, Tim was no longer in Gotham, in April.

(In which Tim finds himself in the past, and tries to do the right thing. It's more complicated than he'd like.)”

Incomplete

Tim goes back to Dick’s Robin days and fixes shit

What Would You Do (To Save a Life) by 12pt_timesnewromanfont

“Here lies Timothy Drake

He lived so others wouldn’t die.

He died so others would live.

Damian scowls at the smooth stone, at the carefully etched epitaph.

He can’t help the fury building inside, rising up and clawing at his insides.”

Major TW for suicide

Tim’s evil future self comes back in time. Really well written.

Displaced by CamsthiSky

"Bruce’s vision wavers, and only once he steadies himself does he look up to find—Dick. But not Dick. Because Dick is eleven years old, and this man is clearly only a few years younger than Bruce himself is. If that. But no. Bruce would know those bright blue eyes anywhere. This is Dick. This is his son."

Bruce, who recently adopted Dick Grayson, is switched w his older self… younger Bruce meeting all of his kids again does special things to my sad little heart

Mint Chocolate Chip by LemonadeGarden

“Summer vacations have been going on just long enough for Jason to start getting bored, when he gets an unexpected visitor.

From the future.”

The amount of fluff in here… insane. I love it

Days of Future Past by Speechless_since_1998

“‘Why are you doing this?’

Red Robin looked at him from above the Riddler, ‘What?’

‘Help us. You don't want to be here. We could help you get back to your time.’

‘No. I have to be here. One week to go.’

‘A week for what?’ he asked, in frustration.

‘You told us you're here to avoid the worst moment in Batman's life, the one that will almost drive him crazy and shit like that. You didn't tell us what it will be, though.’

‘You don't need to know.’

Jason snorted, ‘Don't need to know? We're talking about what will turn Batman from a semi-decent parenting figure into a total bastard. Of course, it is necessary.’

‘For your good, you better not know.’"

Kind of angsty, but really good. Tim goes back to save Jason.

#batfam #batfam fic rec #batman fanfiction #batman #dick grayson #damian wayne #jason todd #tim drake #fanfiction #dc #fic rec #alfred pennyworth #time travel

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thats-a-lot-of-cortisol · 1 month

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Corentin {The Prodigal Saer}

wood elf storm sorcerer // they/them // dark urge

"Getting lobotomized was the best thing to ever happen to me. Getting dissected gave me IBS."

Age: ~30 y/o

Background: Haunted One

Favorite Weapons: The Spellsparkler Staff and the Sword of the Emperor

Style of Combat: fly by the seat of your pants and pray to whoever's still listening

Most Prized Possession: the acorn. you know the one

Deepest Desire: To remember their family from before they were taken to the cult. it's a desire they'll likely never be able to fulfill- they couldn't remember their mother & sibling even before the tadpole.

Guilty Pleasure: Eating just frosting. Gale taught them how to make it one day and they haven't been the same since. They experiment with different flavors and add-ins sometimes too.

Best-Kept Secret: There are definitely some things they've remembered that they haven't told anyone (yet) because either they're too ashamed or it's too painful. I think the raid/mission that directly broke them & resigned them to their lot as Bhaal's Chosen is one of those.

Greatest Strength: They're pretty good at recognizing when to be charming vs intimidating, when to use violence and when to at least try to talk their way out of a situation, etc. It's a skill they re-learned and honed over the course of the game.

Fatal Flaw: They're stubborn as hell and don't like to budge on their convictions and decisions, which is great when they're correct and really not great if they're not. And they can be careless with their words when arguing about said convictions and decisions, especially if they don't know the other person(s) involved or if they don't care that much about them.

Favorite Smell: wood smoke

Favorite Spell/Cantrip: Shocking Grasp for sure

Pet Peeve: Slow walkers who also take up the entire pathway for unclear reasons. They can deal with one or the other, but not both at the same time.

Bad Habit: Chewing their fingernails. Sometimes they'll wear down the nailbed so badly their fingers bleed. They swallow the nail

Hidden Talent: Weaving. They got really good at braiding while they were a teenager, practicing both on their hair and Orin's. It was calming to them, and they pretty quickly expanded to looms and more intricate plaits/knots/etc as a way to cope. Muscle memory meant they started doing it out of habit after getting off the nautiloid.

Leisure Activity: Gardening; stabbing the ground and pulling up weeds can be great ways to blow off steam. Also reading- they didn't exactly get much of an education, and what they did have they'd forgotten. They want to learn as much as possible

Favorite Drink: Hot chocolate, made half with cream & half with milk.

Favorite Food: hand pies, especially ones filled with sausage or beef. But they have to either make them themself or be certain whoever made them is telling the truth about the ingredients they used.

Favorite Person: Wyll, hands down.

Favored Display of Affection (Platonic or Romantic): Hair! Playing with it, brushing it, styling it, etc.

Fondest Childhood Memory: sitting on their bed, detangling and braiding Orin's hair when they were teenagers. They're sure they have some happy ones pre-Bhaal but all that's left of them is that inkling, no specifics.

Other: Their fashion sense was pretty bad when they got off the nautiloid. The others (especially Astarion and Shadowheart) stepped in pretty quickly to remedy that, which means most of their outfits in Acts I and II were picked out by their companions. They'd gained their footing by Act III but still made some...questionable color and cut decisions occasionally. It's unclear whether they've always been that way or if it was from their brain getting scrambled. Also, they bind sometimes! Whether or not they do depends on how they're feeling that day (physically & mentally), if it's practical, and if it goes with the vibes of that day's outfit(s).

Fun Fact: Wyll helped them cut their hair after the proposal!

Top 10 Songs: - "Nunemaker's Parable" (Everybody's Worried About Owen) "I am mourning/I am morning/So break me anew" - "A Good Thing" (Kyle Stibbs) "This is birth, in reverse/This is sacred, tell me, how'd I take it worse?" - "Pyre" (Mel Bryant & the Mercy Makers) "I am a child of god my fingers move the earth and yet/I cannot scrub the dirt beneath my nails" - "Prologue" (Shayfer James, Kate Douglas) "We build a cradle from our grave/And feel it rock with every wave" - "A Pearl" (Mitski) "It's just that I fell in love with a war/Nobody told me it ended" - "The Price of Life Itself" (Moon Walker) "But mama didn't raise no wolf/And I was never really one to fight" - "Bloody! Bloody!" (Junie & TheHutfriends) "A craving that cannot be fed/It's happening again/(I think it's getting worse now)" - "Take Me to War" (The Crane Wives) "So I will leave it where it's standing/And instead I will find me a match/I'll turn it all to kindling/I'll burn it all down to ash" - "Fate Goes" (Shayfer James, Kate Douglas) "Fate is the only one that's just, and I trust/That fate goes as ever fate must/Ashes to ashes, dust to dust" - "In the Woods Somewhere" (Hozier) "The creature lunged/I turned and ran/To save a life I didn't have"

Questionnaire template by @sporeservant!

#i love them sm #i just have the last set of fights to do so i havent played them in a while b/c im not ready!!#corentin #the prodigal saer #bg3 #bg3 tav #meet my tav #durge #bg3 durge #my post

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burberrycanary · 1 year

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My recent fics

Red White & Royal Blue

Series: What the Living Do

The distance is hard, but they're making it work. Post-film.

1. The Better Part // Henry/Alex

Henry has no reason to be in New York, no acceptable public excuse, just a three-day gap in his schedule and a boyfriend he hasn’t seen in six weeks.

Six weeks and two days, his mind supplies. For a moment he considers blaming that knowledge on how the American election is an easy date to remember.

Instead, he texts Alex: We’re apart for weeks but my body misses you in days, in minutes.

2. Magna Carta Libertatum // Henry/Alex

“Besides which, I think it’s somewhere in the fine print on being boyfriends. As you’re my first, I may have to refer back to the designated powers and duties, now and then. I haven’t learnt them by heart yet.”

Alex is quiet for a moment and when he speaks his voice is softer, more thoughtful. “I think we get to draw those up ourselves. The position of boyfriend and the officially designated powers and duties therein.”

“Oh,” Henry says. “Well. I’ve never gotten to declare my own powers before. Constitutional monarchy and all that.”

MCU

Series: A Man Takes His Sadness Down to the River (The Consolation of Philosophy)

A post-TFATWS Endgame Stucky fix-it where a lot needs fixing.

1. The Same River, Twice (The Man Is Still Left with His Hands) // Stucky

Steve had meant to stay forever and didn’t last a year. He meant to return right back to when he left, but that doesn’t work out the way he planned either.

Turns out a lot can happen in nine months.

2. Still Left with the River (The Paradox of Motion) // Stucky

Coming back from as good as dead to a changed world is easier the second time around. But then Steve supposes that, like with most things, you get better with practice.

3. Not Language but a Map (The Grammar of Sensation) // Stucky

Steve has never felt right running away from a fight, even if the fight is with unanswered questions. But it’s not running if it’s a road trip and the oldest, thorniest unanswered question is along for the ride.

4. Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) // Stucky

The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away. How’s that for some consolation on the road?

—

The Art of the Possible // Sharon-centric, minor Sharon/Bucky

Maybe whether you’ve picked the wrong side depends on where you’re standing—but if you can’t tell who the sucker at the poker table is: it’s you.

Sharon before, during, and after Madripoor.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Till the Ductile Anchor Hold // Juliet & Sidney

Sometimes, beginnings are like that, slow and gentle until you find yourself in the middle before you realise there was anything to begin at all. Endings, too. Sometimes.

Chasing Liberty

Truthfully, Once If Strangers // Ben/Anna

Anna sits on the low stone wall that edges the road and watches him wait in line. She admires how his shoulders look in the leather jacket and how his neck is lovely but so masculine, before getting distracted by his Adam’s apple, which she’d really like to skim her teeth over.

A Discovery of Witches

The Probable Stars // Diana/Matthew

That’s the way of the world, Matthew remembers: you break the things you are fondest of.

(Or, what about those discarded clothes?)

—

Like Gold to Airy Thinness Beat // Diana/Matthew

Diana climbs into his lap and his hands immediately come up to steady her. The book he’d been reading slides off the bed with a thud. Her fingers are clumsy as she works down the line of buttons—she doesn't think about why, doesn't care—and, finally, she can touch his cool skin.

See the rest on AO3!

#my fics #pinned post #stucky #steve/bucky #matthew x diana #firstprince #henry/alex #chasing liberty #the guernsey literary and potato peel pie society #adow #rwrb #mcu

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this-is-moony-lovegood · 1 year

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6B/7A theory/hope/wish for the BEST possible solution for this whole sperm donor story line that still gives us Buddie.

I’ve touched on this in a previous post, but I think that something is going to happen to Cameron when she is giving birth and she is going to die, and Connor (who is freaking out already about being a parent), will decide he can’t parent alone. Therefore, he is going to safe haven baby style drop off his son (Buck’s biological son) at the 118 (probably with Ravi) with a note and paperwork that gives Buck full parental rights over the baby.

Now, to add to that. I also am under the impression that Buck’s loft is going to be crushed in an earthquake during 6x18. With Kristen saying the couch is in danger (which I think Eddie will also be in danger during the finale, physical couch can be too), I see an earthquake destroying the loft. Buck is essentially homeless at this point, although Eddie tells him that he can stay with him while he is trying to find another place.

However, when Buck gets the baby, he goes over to Eddie’s because he’d freaking out (and can’t go to the loft). Sitting on the couch, holding the baby, he’s talking to Eddie about how he is unprepared to be a father. Eddie kneels in front of him, places a hand on his knee and assures him that he is going to be a great father because he already is one, to Chris. He also tells Buck that he doesn’t have to do this alone, and that Buck can move in with him, and they can raise the baby together (like they have already been raising Chris together). Buck tries to insist that he doesn’t need to do that, but Eddie tells him something along the lines of, “Buck, remember when you said I could have your back? This is me doing that.”

So 6B ends with Eddie and Chris making dinner while Buck is rocking the baby on the couch, Buck looking at them with the fondest look on his place, telling the baby that he thinks he finally found his couch. So no confirmed Buddie yet, but we know it's coming.

Flash forward while I throw some 7A speculation in there for you. 7A Buddie opens with the baby screaming, Buck and Eddie are in bed together, groaning about whose turn it is to get the baby. It’s been months of raising the baby and dealing with new parenting. This kid of parenting being new to both of them since Eddie missed most of Chris’s early days due to the army. Chris, from the other rooms yells back “I don’t care who’s turn it is, just one of you get him so I can sleep!” Eddie eventually gets up to get the baby. At the firehouse, both Buck and Eddie come in exhausted, and the team remarks on how the baby is still not sleeping through the night. Remarks about HenRen and Madney, and Bathena about them remembering when their kids were young and not doing that, some other line about them being young and newly married with this too (Bathena (with their first marriages), and maybe HenRen).

Also in this episode, you have scenes where Eddie and Buck are constantly being pulled around the house to help with the new baby, Chris is getting annoyed each time because it happens while Buck is helping him with science project, or Eddie is playing a game with him while Buck is cooking dinner, etc. Either way, Chris is growing resentful at the baby and making comments about it throughout the episode. At first Buddie thinks that it’s just Chris being a teenager, but at some point in the episode, Chris snaps completely telling him how he hates the new baby because Buck and Eddie don’t have time for him anymore. “Buck moving in was supposed to be the greatest news ever. But all It is *baby name* this and *baby name* that! You’re both so focused on the baby that neither of you have time for me anymore!” Then we get Buddifer family chat where Buck and Eddie talk to Chris about the new baby and apologize for letting the stress of the new baby get to them, and how they never meant to make Chris feel like they don’t have time for him, or possibly are replacing him.

Also, with some season 7A speculation about Buddie. If it follows this story line, we also have the team significantly making comments about how Buddie is living together, raising two kids together, but aren’t married. “You’re living together, sharing a bed, parenting not one but two kids together, and you’re not in a relationship? I mean come on; you’re married in every way except legally!” This becomes a huge set of comments throughout 7A and by the midseason finale I think we get Buddie actually talking about it and then we get the love confession, and possibly a shotgun courthouse wedding that we probably only know about because Buddie waltzes in to the kitchen at the firehouse and drops off HR paperwork in Bobby’s lap before getting their own breakfast off the island. Then of course, we have a bet reveal where Hen wins, because logically who else is gonna win it? If there is no wedding, then at least we get happy Buddie for 7B.

There. Done.

I’m thinking about making a fic of this because while I love this and want this, I am not delusional and know this will likely never happen. Anyone interested if I can actually get the words from my brain to the word document?

#buddie #911 fox #911 6b speculation #911 7a speculation #is this likely to happen? probably not. am i going to be able to think about anything else until the finale? probably not.#buddifer #buddie fic idea #the sperm donor arc hurts me so much that this is the only way that I can picture it not competely sucking at the end

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sasubaeuchithot · 1 year

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would love to hear more about your creative process for sasuke's sexuality while writing :') i loved how he slowly began to understand/accept and own his desires! also side note but how do you think he'd react if naruto ever slipped and called him something precious (ie. "baby" and/or "angel" etc) while they were bein' intimate 👀

i see Sasuke as demisexual, so I'm sure some parts of it naturally came from my own asexuality and aromanticism. but my writing process is all about using my natural empathy to delve into a character's psychosis. sexuality is merely just another one aspect of an individual's personality. so I put myself into his headspace and just thought about what would be the natural way for him to react to the plot based on what I knew of him from canon. he was forced to spend all of his childhood years where those kinds of sexual/romantic desires develop having to shove them deep inside of himself. whether he was always meant to be demisexual or not, his trauma would have forced him to repress any desire for love or sex in order to focus on avenging his clan. (I personally think Sasuke is some mixture of both naturally demisexual and forcibly aromantic from his trauma.)

so it took a LOT for him to finally start lowering his walls. if it weren't for his overwhelming Uchiha love, bro would probably have taken an extra decade to open up romantically. I think Naruto also helped speed up the process a lot lol. because we're talking about actual soul mates and not just a typical relationship, Sasuke was already too linked to Naruto to deny his natural instinct to love him.

as for the pet names, I think Sasuke would be way too overwhelmed to actually enjoy them at first. it would be a whole process, and even still I think Sasuke would like. physically stab Naruto if he called him something in front of another person lmaooooo. it makes him feel too vulnerable, how much he likes it. Naruto would have to implement years of whispering it while they're being intimate before he could get away with it in their daily private life. though I could see Naruto speeding up the process by using the super-effective "make fun of Sasuke for being embarrassed about it" tactic, because, after all, Sasuke prides himself on being logical in all situations, so why's he going around being silly about a little pet name?????

but I see them more logically turning their insults into pet names. like. what else is "usuratonkatchi" but an affectionate pet name by the end of the series??? I think Naruto for sure uses "teme" in the fondest possible way.

#ask sasubaeuchithot #i usually go through and edit these but #yeet #have this completely unedited #im so fuckin tired lol

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ithisatanytime · 7 months

Video

youtube

Bladee - BBY (music video)

who in history (not within the last hundred years, so that still affords ten thousand or so years of recorded history around the world to draw from) is the most famous child molester you can recall, ten seconds go! name one famous child molester from history! GO! GO! GO!

you cant name one, because nobody gave a shit really and i dont give a shit. if i found out my neighbor, or my literal best friend, was tricking PREPUBESCENT boys or girls into sinning, well it would be better for them to have a milstone tied around their neck and for them to be cast into the sea. i would fucking murder them and go to prison with a smile on my face, but this preoccupation with it is a modern jewish invention, i know i know “but jews are the biggest child molesters around!” and look what theyve done, theyve made it so i just dont want to hear about it, or rape or any sexual crimes of men, which all women UNIVERSALLY are preoccupied with. its not something the vast majority of men through all of history gave a single thought to and neither should i, now chris evans is a child molester for fucking a 22 year old and blah blah blah! what happens is that when women start entering their mid twenties they run smack dab into the consequences of their actions and realize that even if you convince everyone in the world to speak as though things arent the way they are, you cannot as easily convince them to ACT as though things arent that way.

teenage girls are sexy, they arent just sexy they are the SEXIEST! they are far more sexy, a fifteen year old girl is far better looking than an eighteen year old even, and people reach sexual maturity when the reach sexual maturity, wow! and your entire family tree would vanish from existence if your forefathers and mothers had bought into the modern jewish conception of romance and love. YOUTH has always been paramount for women while for men its STATUS. lets pretend youth isnt the primary measure of beauty in women, would you agree that the average man if given the choice between a virgin and a women who had several previous partners, all other things being equal would not choose the virgin? you can lie if you want but ill pretend you told the truth, is it possible for someone to lose experience as they age? of course its not possible, so then if men care at all about the number of sexual partners a woman has, than youth again is held paramount simply because chastity is important for men when choosing a partner.

i fell in love when i was 16 and im still in love with her now, though she no longer be 14, but i still remember and i remember fondly the shape of her, at what age was i meant to be disgusted and horrified by the memory of her body? think about this well, if none of my other points struck true with you think about this one only, at what age, was i supposed to remember my fondest memories and be nauseated by her youth? its fucking absurd, and i wont pretend even for a second it isnt.

would i as a thirty four year old man fuck a 14 year old woman now? no because they arent my wife, my wife is no longer fourteen but 32, i wont fuck a 14 year old or a 24 year old or a 33 year old for that reason and that reason ONLY. but biology is not arbitrary, and if it caused the animal some harm to mate and reproduce at a certain age biology would not make them capable of doing so, and it especially would not flood them with hormones that make them want to do so at that time more than any other time in their entire lives, natural selection would have sorted out that blunder in a matter of one or two generations! why do teenaged girls develop full breasts long before reaching the arbitrarily decided on age of majority? first you must know why women develop full breasts, it is not as you might believe to feed infants, no mammal has full breasts year round but human women, their breasts fill with milk once they are pregnant and at no other time. womens breasts remain full all year round because we walk upright, they are unsurprisingly a sexual display (this is accepted science not my opinion) so why would they develop these at 14?

the song of solomon says not to eat of the fruits until they are ripe, and thats good enough for me, its not arbitrary its OBVIOUS when the fruits are ripe. every man, all men, all healthy men, every man you know or will ever know, is attracted strongly to teenage girls but is compelled by intense fear and stigma to lie about it publicly, im not gonna do that. women and jews can eat shit. and all men having this secret desires, knowing privately they are apparently the worst kind of monster imaginable a child molester, how are they going to react hearing about ACTUAL fucking monsters fucking ACTUAL fucking kids? more sympathetically. thats the trick, its jews as usual with womens help as usual, and as usual they can eat shit, i will resist the attitude unto death even, i will throw my bones in the cogs of their machines just so i could temporarily inconvenience them, i will make it so they MUST kill me and send me straight to my father in heaven as a martyr with my soul intact. and i will ogle 14 year old boobies and say out loud and proudly “DAYYYUM!”

#youtube

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thedisneychef · 11 months

Text

Disney Puffed French Toast Recipes

This recipe, like all great recipes, was first used out of desperation. Desperation and an overflow of bread. And it so happens to be one of the recipes that has some of my fondest memories. I swear, whenever I feel a little bummed and lonely for Disney, these are my pick-me-ups, my hug-on-a-plate. Just back from Disney, I was in what I call the "Disney Blues." People who've been are, I'm sure, familiar with it. Symptoms of "Disney Blues" usually include listening to music from the park constantly, re-watching favorite Disney movies, habitually checking ride line apps on your cell phone to just to see how long ride waits are (like it matters), and dwelling on irrational, pointless thoughts like "Right now, somebody's FastPass for (insert favorite ride) just became active and now they're on the ride and I'm not." I myself freely admit, I'm guilty of all some of these offenses. Anyway, it was the morning, I was in the midst of full-swing Disney Blues, and trying to recreate Disney in any way possible. Usually this meant making my favorite foods into a Mickey shape. In the last week, we'd had Mickey-shaped pizza, Mickey-shaped cookies, Mickey-shaped sandwiches... If it could be made to the face of Mickey, I did it. My plan of attack this morning was to break out the Mickey cookie cutter and make toast shaped like Mickey. Not all that creative, but it was early and I'm not a good morning thinker. Then, out of the sleepy fog I was operating in, it occurred to me... Extra bread is perfect for French toast. French toast, which I've never made before and had only a rough idea of what went into making it. Surely Mickey had a solution... And he did. I cracked out my Mickey Cookbook and found this amazing recipe for Puffed French Toast from Crystal Palace. As soon as the first batch of toast hit the frying pan, it smelled just like every food court and restaurant at the Magic Kingdom during breakfast. Of course it tasted so Disney, sweet and decadent, heavy without being filling. I almost felt like it was time to go conquer the parks after breakfast. Tons of memories came flooding back like they'd happened yesterday, the castle lit up at night, getting your first glimpse of EPCOT on the way to your hotel to check in, walking with a full tummy from Tusker House to Dinosaur because you're a little too full for Everest... This recipe made me so happy, and brought back so many amazing memories, it was the inspiration for me to seek out other Disney recipes And that inspiration inflated my Disney recipe collection from just two little cookbooks to over 1,500 recipes that are direct from Disney, not to mention being on a first-name basis with the customer service rep (and several cast members, even a chef or two) of various restaurants around the The World. And who would have thought all of that would come from too much Wonder Bread? :) Read the full article

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slutscara · 2 years

Text

࿐ loving you is so easy

gwi-nam x reader | 1.3k words

content warning(s) ↝ ooc gwi-nam, pre!apocalypse

synopsis ↝ he was unaware of how it felt to be important to someone, and for someone to be important to him. who knew how wonderful it could be?

author’s note ↝ soft gwi-nam wahhh ;-; it’s currently 7 am and i’m abt to pass out but had to finish the brainrot. not rlly an x reader and more so just him being a lovesick idiot trying to understand his feelings. very messy sorry !! but enjoy fellow gwi-nam enjoyers !

IT WASN’T uncommon to hear words of disgust or confusion from others whenever they learned you were going out with Gwinam, you were rather quite used to it at this point. You were well aware of his bad reputation, though despite all that, chose to allow yourself to push through it to the good. Which, besides you, nobody knew existed within the boy, even him himself.

What was even more of a shock was that Gwinam managed to fall in love with another human, more specifically someone such as yourself. Never in his life had he truly felt care and love for another person. Furthermore was convinced he was incapable of possessing emotions such as those. But that was all proven wrong when you entered his life.

Anyone that looked at the two of you individually would see that you were completely opposite people, one soul full of love and the other full of hate. You were a kind, gentle spirit while he was a troubled one. Regardless of this, you felt that your souls were connected in some way, almost as if they were made to find one another.

Whenever you were around the boy, it would be as if he changed into a totally different person. His cold, hard exterior would fall completely, replaced with nothing but softness and love for you.

You made him feel things he had never felt before, nor things anybody gave him all his life. He wasn't used to having someone care about him as much as you did. Somebody that actually liked him, who wanted to willingly spend time with him. He wasn't even fully aware of what the emotions you made him feel were. Happiness, a sense of security, vulnerability—these were all new to him.

Even though he was still figuring these things out and becoming accustomed to it himself, the one thing he did know, for a fact, was that he really did love you—or was rather in love with you.

With you in his life, he felt like he was whole. That nothing else mattered in the world other than you. Truthfully, he can't say when he has ever felt this wanted. Never. Not one person had ever made him feel appreciated or seen as you have.

For you, he wanted desperately to become a better person. And he was trying, little by little, to become that person each day. You didn't deserve to be with someone such as himself, someone that enjoys putting others down, who's nothing more than a bully. Up until now, that's all he ever thought he was. Nobody has ever had this kind of control over him and he would be lying if he didn't say it terrified him. It terrifies him how you have the power to break his heart with the snap of your finger if you wanted to. It terrifies him that if he lost you today, he'd lose all that he is and all that he is trying so hard to become.

It was as if you introduced him to a whole new side to life, one he never saw before, one he enjoyed. One he wanted to continue living every day in, with you.

He will never begin to wrap his head around why you ever decided to bat an eye at him, nonetheless fall in love with him. He might never understand that one day, but he would be damned if he ever took it for granted.

The small moments mean the most to him. Little notions that anyone else wouldn't make a deal about, meant everything to him. Holding hands, small kisses, quiet words of affection. Each moment spent with you, if possible, grew the love in his heart.

One of his fondest memories with you was the night you went star-gazing together. You had texted him one night, not being able to sleep, asking if he was up. Not that you were expecting a response—it was one o'clock in the morning on a school night. Though to your surprise, he answered, saying he was still awake himself. Unknowingly to you, he was actually fast asleep minutes beforehand. Your text had in fact woken him up, but he quickly shook off his tiredness if it meant it was for you. Upon receiving his text, you told him to meet you at your spot, and he wasted no time in getting out of bed.

Around ten minutes later, he caught glimpse of your small form laying atop a blanket you had laid out on the grass in the little field the two of you commonly came to, staring up at the stars above. It soon came to be your spot, where you could go to just spend time with one another with no bothersomes. Just you, him, and the beauty of nature.

He joined you on the blanket, laying beside you as you reached for his hand, entwining yours with his. No words were spoken between the two of you, and instead just enjoyed each other’s presence.

Instead of looking up at the sky with you, he turned his head to look at you. At that moment, he wanted to look you in the eyes and tell you that your smile burned brighter than a thousand stars, and that your eyes glimmered prettier than the heavenly bodies that you were currently getting lost in ever could. He wanted to tell you that every star in the sky overhead must look down on you in envy, because he knew for a fact they did.

But he opted to stay silent, keeping those thoughts to himself as he finally copied you and glanced up to the starry night, thinking of how lucky he was to have you beside him. How within this whole, gigantic universe, he was lucky enough to call you his.

After a while, he heard soft snores come from his right where you laid, and he smiled, knowing you had fallen asleep. The fact that his presence provided you with enough serenity to fight past your insomnia and be able to finally sleep made him melt in adoration. So he stayed awake that night, fighting back his own needs for sleep, and instead settled on watching you. The relaxation on your face was something he never wanted to take away. Only awaking you once the sun was starting to peek out from the dark horizon, making sure the two of you both had time to sneak back into your places and get ready for the upcoming school day.

Of course, you had scolded him for not waking you up earlier or not getting sleep himself, but all he could think about was how cute you were. For all those hours he spent just gazing at you, he didn't once get tired of doing so. The rising and falling of your chest, the wind blowing through your hair delicately, your lips slightly parted; he was left in awe and wished more than anything that he had the power to stop time.

That night was when he realized how deep his feelings for you ran. How in love he was with you.

He would drop everything and anything if you needed him to, and he would stay up for days to ensure your safety. You're all that matters to him, all he cares for. You gave him a home, a safe place. You were his world—and the one who gave him one in the first place. You gave him someone to call his own, and for once in his life, had felt belonged.

And he would spend every day of his life making sure you truly understood how much you meant to him. He'd move mountains to make room for your happiness, replant the same seed every day just to see you blossom and flourish over and over again. For without you, he would be nothing but a lost, hurt boy, oblivious to what living had truly felt like.

#gwinam x reader #gwi nam x reader #yoon gwinam x reader #yoon gwi nam x reader #all of us are dead #aouad x reader #aouad #all of us are dead x reader #x reader #fluff

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

A push to the right direction // Victoria De Angelis

words // 1241

warnings // maybe a little cursing, was meant to be a little angsty but I don't think i succeeded in that

pairing // Victoria De Angelis x GN!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. again, for the millionth time, don't forget that sundays will be for "sleepovers" from now on, so I can have a bit of a break and still give you guys something so yay. also this originally was supposed to be out yesterday but toothace and all I could barely function at all sooooo yeah. I hope you enjoy the little beach vibes and locked in car scenrio 😂

request // yes, it was through messages by @tabi-toast so i'm putting it here

"I’d like to request some friends to lovers with Vic where the boys notice that they like each other and try to push them towards each other? Maybe some angst but mostly lots of fluff hehehe"

summary // Victoria and reader have been friends for a while, both harboring unspoken feelings. While the two are oblivious beyond their minds the boys of the band have figured out all the glances and sublte touches the two share. Well, all they need is a little push to see the truth.

It was simply agonizing. The way the two looked at each other lovingly, staring with adoration every time they were sure they would not get caught, the way they spoke of each other, constantly using the fondest of words… They were both suffering from the unspoken feelings, the constant emotion of (non existent, really) rejection making the bad days harder and the good days bad, taking away from the most important moments they shared. The friends they shared were surely close to taking off, not wanting to see the constant pinning and insecurities that come with it.

The pair tended to be so oblivious to the obvious. Writing off indications of romantic feelings as plain signs of the comfort they had with each other. The hugs, the cuddles, the hair petting, all the pet names, the spontaneous 1 am singing competitions in the car while driving to find some food. They wrote it off as plain and simple platonic affection.

But, after, as the times passed by and the two would not seem to understand the feelings they shared, they would each go to a different member, complaining and even crying about the lack of reciprocation.

“How can you know that, Y/N? You haven’t even told her!”

“Well, I know her! She doesn’t want me Thomas!”

A similar scenarios would apply to Victoria sharing her feelings. They were both so blinded by fear of losing each other that they were blind to the truth. But everyone with eyes was not. Everyone, even people that had never met them before, could see that they were dying to be together, sometimes even assuming that they are… But that only ever resulted in awkward denying and later crying over the non existent rejection.

Currently they were laying on a towel at the beach, cuddled up together while relaxing with the last sun rays of the day and the soft sound of waves. The entire group had decided that a beach day was long overdue, the pool just simply not satisfactory enough. It was not the same to be by the sea, with the waves and the beautiful view, and being by a pool with the superficial lights and all (not that they could really complain).

“So, you mean to tell me that it actually happened?!” Yelled Y/N, laughing at yet another story Victoria shared with them.

“It did! I swear!” Victoria laughed back, caressing Y/N’s back softly as they both laughed.

“Well you need to take me with you next time you visit that place again. Who knows? Maybe another incident like that will happen.”

“I surely will,” she said, leaving a soft kiss on their heads.

“Are you feeling tired, amore?”

“Maybe a little… I had a long day…”

“You can take a nap on me if you need to. I’ll wake you up before Thomas and Damiano go to get us food.”

“I suppose I could,” they responded and settled in for a small nap.

The rest of Måneskin simply stared at the pair while discussing how exactly they were not one. It seemed so obvious to them how they had strong feelings, undeniable ones at that, and they could not stand and watch. Something had to happen.

So they came up with a devious plan. It would piss off Victoria a bit but it would bring the results they needed. Damiano walked to the car they came in, thanking technology with all of his might, in his head, remembering how his car has child-proofing mechanisms at the doors so they can only open from the outside. Thus the plan was in action.

After coming back he simply settled down, going back to doing his own thing - whatever he was doing before and waiting until it was time to move forward with it.

“Agh, I’m starving! When are you guys going for the food?”

“Me too.” Thomas stated before settling back in his chair for a moment.

“Hey, Vic!” He almost yelled, the woman flinching and checking to see if he woke Y/N up.

“What is it Thomas?” her voice was sharp, body quickly moving to walk up to him, making sure to not disturb her crushe’s nap.

“Can you and Y/N go for the food? Honestly I am bored, Damiano said he’s not coming and Ethan is too preoccupied right now.” He pouted and everything, giving the older girl the softest look he could possibly manage, while pointing at Ethan having a phone call.

“Couldn’t you have thought of that before? Seriously, Thomas, right now? They are sleeping.”

“Oh, come on Vic, please! I’ll owe you!”

“Agh, agh, fine, let me wake them,” she paused,”you’re lucky I’m hungry or I would let all of you starve,” she mumbled, annoyed by the boys’ laziness, before going over to the sleeping figure on the towel.

“Hey, amore… come on, sweets, wake up. Hey. Hey,” she repeated softly, a sweet smile on her face as their eyes opened slowly.

“Vic? Oh, are the guys going for the food?”

“Not quite. The guys are being annoying and refuse to go. So, if you want to eat we have to go.”

“Oh, alright then. Give me a moment to wake up,” they said and Victoria smoothed down their sea-salt stained t-shirt.

“Ethan, where are the keys?”

“On the engine, cucciola.”

“Ok, grazie.”

With that the two clueless friends sat in the car, Victoria realizing the keys were missing a little too late.

“Agh, cazzo, Ethan! They are not her- The door isn’t opening. Why is the door not opening?”

“Mine isn’t either.”

“Ethan!” Her voice could be heard crystal clear, even with the windows separating her from the outside.

“What is it, Victoria?” He asked, a smug smile on his face as he stood outside the car window.

“What did you do?”

“Well,” spoke Damiano, “you two clueless, little shits have gotten annoying. So if you are not going to do it, we will.” He stated and Victoria’s eyes almost went out of her head, catching onto what her friend was saying.

“Y/N, Victoria has feelings for you. Victoria, Y/N has feelings for you. Now talk!”

If only glare’s could kill, Ethan would be having a very painful death as Vic kept mumbling how she’ll kill him. Y/N, on the other hand, simply stared at Victoria in adoration.

“Do you have feelings for me?”

“Look Y/N, I-”

“Answer my question Victoria! Do you have feelings for me?”

“Yes,” she replied, looking down as if she was ashamed.

“That’s not how I wanted you to find out. I wasn’t really planning on telling you cause I know that Ethan is lying but-”

“Victoria! Take a breath between sentences! What are you talking about? Ethan is not lying, you know?”

“I know, Y/N, you don’t have to sugarco- Wait, what?”

“He isn’t lying, Victoria. I really like you.” “You do?”

“Mhm, I do. Now, will you give me a kiss or are you waiting for Ethan to smash our heads together,” they joked, easing up the tension Victoria was feeling and pushing their lips to hers.

It was not anything special, just a simple, soft, kiss. What made it special was that it was to each other. They shared a kiss together, not someone else, not a stranger, not someone they had no feelings for, but someone they were yearning for, for a very long time now.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever@tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina

#måneskin #victoria de angelis imagine #victoria de angelis #maneskin imagine #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin #måneskin x reader #måneskin fanfic #måneskin imagine

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 3 years

Text

Away From Home

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Captain America: The First Avenger

Pairing: 1940s! Bucky Barnes x Female! Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are half a world apart. How are they holding up without each other? ft. some love letters!

Word Count: 1644

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, hint of smut, angst, talk about war, mention of suicide. Please read at your own risk!

Authors Note: Just want to thank my beautiful wife @buckybarnesdiaries for hyping me up with this series! Not everything may be accurate to the 1940s, war or Bucky’s story. My apologies! Enjoy loves <3

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

It wasn’t easy being all alone without your other half, but you managed to fill up your day with fun and responsibilities to take your mind off it. The women at the office missed their husbands immensely, just like yourself, so it was good that you all took comfort in one another. It was good to talk with them about the shared feelings of fear and uncertainty that came with the men going off to war.

The office work that was ordinarily boring to you became very interesting as your bosses ordered you around. At home, you had organized your various pieces of literature more times than what was necessary. You couldn’t either count how many times you’ve gone “I missed a spot” on the kitchen counter when it was nothing there in reality.

When there was nothing at home to do, you called up your girlfriends, hoping they would be willing to go out on the town. The few times they were up for it, you forgot all about the hurt inside as you danced the night away with your best friends.

Bucky's parents could come and go as they pleased. Your house was their house; whenever they wanted to drop by, they could. On the weekends, they would invite you home to their residence for dinner and drinks. It was sweet of them to ask you. You already had a strong relationship with them that only increased with you spending more time with your parents-in-law.

The stories they would tell you about James growing up in Indiana with his siblings were stored in your memories to use late at night when you couldn’t sleep. Those thoughts would turn into dreams and scenarios of him and your child that you would hopefully get pregnant with soon.

On the few occasions his parents and your girlfriends had other plans, you sat mostly inside staring at one spot on the wall. The book by your side would only be read a few pages before it was placed to the side again so you could continue gawking at the flower patterns on the wall.

That’s how you were sat now. The television was on, but you weren’t paying attention to the boring movie you had watched countless times playing on the screen. You decided that you would write another letter to James. Writing letters to your husband and receiving letters from him was the thing that brought you joy and was the closest you could come to him for the time being. Picking up the pen and paper, the words flowed easily as you wrote.

~~~~~~~~~~

My Dearest,

I feel I must write you again altho there is not much news to tell you from the last time I wrote. Work is keeping me busy, while your parents’ comfort and the fun my girlfriends are bringing keeps me content. I dreamt last night my husband. I dreamt about a child. Our child. A child that will bring us love and joy in the future.

I miss you terribly, my love. I miss the warmth from your touch as we are tangled in the sheets together. I miss the softness of your voice as the words whispered in my ear are meant for me only. I miss your laugh filling up the house that feels so empty now without you. I miss you. There is nothing more that I desire in life but to have you with me constantly.

I wonder how you are getting along, my love. I shall be so relieved to get a letter from you. I can’t help feeling a bit anxious for you, my dear. Thinking about what you are going through in the gruesome war overseas. I pray to whatever higher power exists for you to survive and come home to me in my arms.

Well, my husband, my brave soldier, I don’t know what more to say now, so I will finish this letter with fondest love and kisses from your wife.

I love you the most. From yours truly,

xoxo

~~~~~~~~~~

You sealed up the envelope containing your love letter for your husband, your other half, your soul mate, and hoped that it would bring him a hint of delight in his usual dark, empty and deadly war days.

Somewhere in hostile Germany…

With barely enough sleep from the night before, Bucky rested his eyes for the few minutes they had before it was out on another day of fighting the opposition. The faint sound of bombs dropping was heard in the distance. His heart started pumping in both fear and excitement to be out there again.

As his eyes were closed, he sat and wondered what his wife was up to at the moment. You were most likely at work. What would you have for dinner later? Something good, he hoped. It would at least be ten times better than what he ate for breakfast, soggy bread with a slice of cheese on top.

His mouth watered at the thought of a homemade meal from you right now. You always made the tastiest and fulfilling dinners.

What were you doing after? Out with your girlfriends? Were his parents coming to visit? Either way, he hoped you had the most beautiful time being as carefree as you always were.

When the darkness came, and it was time for bed, what would you be doing? Had the day been exhausting that you dropped dead on the covers as soon your head hit the pillow, or would you stay up and think about him?

His mind started racing to you, touching yourself dead at night while you remembered the last time the two of you were intimate. The thought about you moaning his name so softly and innocently had him adjusting himself in the seat.

Not now, Buck. We have to leave soon. There’s no time for that now.

“BARNES! Post for you.”

Once he had the letter in hand, he immediately knew it was you from the little drawing you drew on the envelope. You always did some form of artwork on it that had his heart warm up.

A single tear ran down his cheek after finishing the heartwarming letter. He could never fully express to you and his parents how these letters had saved him when he needed it the most. When he had thought about ending it all after watching the inhumane things he had witnessed that no human should ever have to see, the pieces of love from you and his family were what kept him going.

There was still some time left before they had to go out to war again. So he took that chance at writing a reply to his wife.

~~~~~~~~~~

My Darling,

Thank you for the heartwarming letter. It found me well in the time when I needed it the most. I so long to be close to you. Trust my love that I do not forget you. I am doing everything in my power so that these few lines reach you.

I am happy to hear that you are keeping yourself busy with work, friends, and family. I’m jealous.

I miss you terribly, my love. If only we could be together soon. I’d give anything to be back in the comfort of your arms. To be tangled in the sheets together. To feel you wrapped so tightly around me in all the ways possible. To hear your laugh that fills my heart with warmth and butterflies. Soon my love, soon.

A child? I’ll give you as many children as you want when I return safely to you. We will buy a big house out in the countryside to raise our children and grow old if that’s what my wife desires.

The war? I don’t know what there is to say? I won’t sugarcoat it. The war is brutal and gruesome. It is something I don’t even wish upon my worst enemy to experience the things I’ve seen and gone through. Don’t be alarmed, my love, by the words you just read. As long as I have you in my mind, I can make it through the days and nights.

There is not much more for the time being to write to you. Just know that I am coming back to you after the terrible war is over.

I love you the most. From your brave soldier,

xoxo

~~~~~~~~~~

He sealed it up in an envelope, and he once again hoped that this wouldn’t be the last letter he ever wrote to you.

A few weeks later…

You waited anxiously out on the steps of your home for the postman to arrive. Legs were bouncing up and down in anticipation if today was the day a new letter from James would arrive.

“Morning, ma’am,” the postman nodded at you. By now, he knew very well who you were as he would find you most days waiting for him to bring you the mail.

“I believe this is yours.” He handed you a single letter. A smile on his face once he saw the excitement on yours when you realize it was from your husband.

“Thank you, George.”

“Have a wonderful day, Y/N.” “You too.”

You opened it right there on the steps. There was no time to walk a few meters into the house to read it.

You took the time to read the lines on the paper written by your love. Sadness came over you as you read the part about war, but a smile was left on your lips nonetheless after you had read the whole thing a few times over.

You clutched it to your heart. To try and feel that extra bit of love that radiated off it. A few tears rolled down your cheeks.

Soon my love. Soon you will be back safe and sound in my arms again.

Credit @ firefly-graphics for the wonderful divider

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