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gaysindistress · 7 months

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Prompt 2 🌶️ for a Bucky please? 🥺

Tell me why I instantly thought about this scene:

warnings - smut. cursing.

I almost gave you a full ass fic but I had to stop myself to finish Van Helsing Retold.

600 celebration post here

I know better than this.

I know better than to provoke him when he’s already in a bad mood thanks to Tony.

I know better than to tease him when he’s on a mission especially since he’s cranky and on said mission with Tony.

I most certainly know better than locking the front door and putting my phone on do not disturb after sending him nudes but I can’t help myself and he brought it on himself to be completely fair.

Tony decided that 3am two nights ago was the perfect time to call him and tell him that he needed to be back at the tower in 15 minutes because they were going on a mission. At that exact moment however, Bucky just so happened to have me face down ass up on our bed and was railing me like an animal untamed by man. He tried to at least make me cum but Tony wouldn’t stop calling and I was getting afraid that he would bust through if Bucky didn’t leave immediately.

So here we are now, 48 hours and several failed attempts at getting myself off later, I decided that sending my sweet super soldier nudes while he was on a mission and with others would be the best idea. After sending them, I turned my do not disturb on and locked the front door as a little extra teasing but what I didn’t anticipate happening was the scene before me.

The bedroom window slides open and Bucky slips in without a sound. He’s still in the suit he wears on missions and if I didn’t see the flash of his left hand in the moonlight, I would’ve called for help. Instead, I smirk as I scoot up the bed to sit with my bed against the wall and push my blanket off, leaving my legs bare. He’s still standing where he landed but his eyes are trailing hungrily up them and narrow when they land on my curled lips. For half a second, the fear that it’s the Winter Solider starts to creep in instead but then Bucky speaks, “You sent me nudes while I was on a mission.”

“You were not. It was over and you were on your way home,” I throw back as my legs fall apart so he can see my black thong.

A growl rips from him, “Fine. You sent me nudes when I was with Sam, Steve, and Stark.”

He pounces on the bed and grips my ankle, pulling me down the bed. I let out a giggle as he traps me between his body and the bed. My body feels light having him back after he had to leave so quickly and although I know I shouldn’t provoke him even more, I can’t help the way that my legs wrap around his waist.

“You’re a menace,” he grunts against my lips before devouring them.

I know better than to tease him but I can’t stop when it ends like this.

#request #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #gaysindistress 600 followers celebration

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cursed-man-prayers · 2 years

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Before folklore came out, I would tell people that liking Taylor Swift was the straightest thing about me. Then folklore, evermore, and Red TV came out. As I saw the queer themes in those albums, I began seeing them in reputation, 1989, Speak Now, Fearless, and debut. The themes have always been there, fluctuating in subtlety but steadily increasing since 1989. So why did I think of Taylor Swift as so quintessentially straight? You guessed it: Compulsory heterosexuality and heteronormativity.

Taylor was supposed to be universally relatable. When she explained her songs, she refrained from using gender-specific language. Us. We. That person. Someone. And people that as “Me. I. A man. That guy I told everyone I was dating.” We were told she dated men, and a woman dating a man = heterosexual. No other options.

Even now, Genius will remove lyric annotations that imply her lyrics might not be about a man. Even with Hits Different, Question…? and Maroon. Taylor says reputation is about Joe and swifties believe her bc “Taylor wouldn’t lie to us!!!” even though there’s so many inconsistencies with the narrative that Rep is about Joe.

To say outright or even imply that Taylor might write songs about women because she likes women is met with scores of comments about how we “shouldn’t speculate on her sexuality!!! she said she’s straight!!! stop being disrespectful!!!!” But Taylor, as she has never said the words “I’m gay” has never said the words “I’m straight.” What she has done is align herself with. LGBTQ artists (YNTCD music video, Phoebe feat., posting support for queer musicians on social media, and, of course, the Pride parade that is her list of openers for the Eras Tour).

If Taylor didn’t people thinking she’s queer, she would’ve thrown in “as a straight woman…” in her speech before performing Delicate at multiple Pride events, when being interviewed about her advocacy during the Lover era, or at literally any point in her adult life.

Writing about women from the male perspective is queer. Her dressing in drag for the Man music video and showing herself in bed with a woman is inherently queer. The way she writes songs about her love interests’ girlfriends is queer. People bend over backwards to justify the gay shit she does, the same thing people have done for centuries with Sappho, Emily Dickinson, Louisa May Alcott, and so many sapphic artists throughout history. Taylor Swift is THE songwriter of our generation. She IS the music industry. But swifties, and hetlors all the more, would rather believe she is stupid and ignorant rather than intentionally using phrases like “hairpin drop,” “lavender haze,” “all the bricks they threw at me,” “you’re the West Village.” When she describes her muses as having scarlet lips, having hair that falls into place like dominos and braids in a pattern, gorgeous, it’s just because she thinks men are really pretty I guess (insert MetGala 2016 Joe photo). When she describes men as toys, playthings, “dudes who give nothing,” she’s being satirical. When she says “weird rumors,” that can’t possibly refer to rumors about marriage, pregnancy, or her having had multiple children during the pandemic. It’s *weird* to say that Taylor is queer. It’s weird and bad and gross. Why? Because people saying this believe being queer is weird, bad, and gross.

But it’s not weird. Being queer is beautiful, a gift. And that gift comes with a world that hates who we are. Of course Taylor is too soft for all it. And I admire her softness, that she continues to write vulnerable music. Midnights (esp 3am Edition and Hits Different) holds her loudest lyrics. She’s never beating the rumors and she doesn’t want to. Even if she never says the words “I’m gay/bi/pan/a lesbian,” the eardrum-shattering volume of her lyrics is more than enough for me.

#gaylor swift #gaylor #taylor swift lyric analysis #queer #question…?#maroon #hits different #i swear you could hear a hairpin drop #midnights

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cowboyslikedean · 1 month

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one day if i post enough of my fic ideas/excerpts in public i will actually finish them!! anyway here’s to the “it’s 3am and our friends have gone home but you’re still on my couch and it’s getting harder to think of reasons why I shouldn’t tell you I love you.” trope

#911 abc #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #lucys ramblings #lucy writes

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sizzleissues · 1 year

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Ladrien day 27 - Autograph

Read here on ao3

“You can have your signature, kitty-.” His ears perked up. “-If you catch me when you're civilian you.”

Or under the cut

Chat Noir was suspiciously quiet as they lazied atop the Eiffel Tower. Something had been bothering him since they met up but it wasn’t anything she could figure out from his lingering stares and solemn expression. Whatever it was she’d rather he’d spit it out then let it weigh on him like this.

“Go on, you want to say something.”

She put the offer out there but didn’t expect an answer. It was much too hot and much too late to muster more than passing concern. She’d review this conversation in the morning when her anxious mind replayed every word to search for the rotten apple.

“Would you-.” He cut himself off, sinking beside her.

“Yes?”

“Would you sign something for me?”

She waited expectantly for more, that can’t have been everything but no, it really was. Chat Noir stared at her with wide hopeful eyes and a rising excitement.

She probably shouldn’t have laughed. Forgive her, it was 3am, beyond past normal Marinette functioning hours.

“Really? That’s it!”

“Uh-.”

“You made me worried there for a second.” She slapped his arm playfully, her laugh fading to a grin.

“So will you?”

“Why? Autographs are for fans. You’re not a fan, you’re my partner. I think that’s better than a measly signature.”

“Civilian me is a fan though! Even my best friend who’s more of a Chat Noir fan has your signature, it’s getting embarrassing at this point.”

He was genuine then. Marinette chewed her lip, looking down at Paris as she tried to think. There wouldn’t be any harm to giving him a signature. If he promised never to show it to anyone or post it at risk of her recognising outside of costume- no, she couldn’t give it to him like this. She couldn’t know who she was signing it for.

“You can have your signature, kitty-.” His ears perked up. “-If you catch me when you're civilian you. I’ll stick around after the next few battles. Just don’t make it obvious.”

“Really? This is great. So great!”

Marinette nodded along, feeling a touch of concern as he spent the rest of the night even more distant. At least it was a happy kind? That was good, right?

—-<0>---

The next few battles had Marinette searching every crowd afterwards for someone vaguely Chat Noir shaped. She knew she shouldn’t, she didn’t want to know his identity but curiosity got the best of her. Chat Noir stayed tight-lipped on whether he’d gotten the autograph yet and she couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach that she’d missed him.

She squashed those feelings down and eventually her eyes stayed strictly on the fan in front of her, not ahead looking for blond and green. The brief flirtation with the possibility of figuring out his identity had only been interesting because of the danger it brought. She’d confused those feelings for intrigue and not fear, a definitely easy mistake to make. That was all safely behind her now.

So when Chat Noir disappeared moments after fist bumping her she didn’t even notice. There was the akuma victim to comfort and the press to shake off and the fans to satiate. A missing stray didn’t even cross her ray-dar.

“Will I grow up to be as cool as you?” A little girl asked, her adorable cheeks squished up in a huge gap-toothed smile. She gripped a ladybug doll in her hands but her eyes were entirely captivated by the real thing. Marinette kneeled down so they were the same height and held a hand out to her.

The girl tentatively reached for it, her eyes like stars as she touched her palm. Marinette smiled warmly, clasping the girl’s hand in her’s.

“You’ll grow up to be even cooler. I don’t have half as beautiful a smile as you.”

After a hug and photo she toddled after her grateful mother. Marinette’s gaze shifted from the girl to the pair of legs now in the spot in front of her. She had to crane her head back to look up at him, the sun silhouetting his body. It created a hazy halo-like effect around his face where she could only see a brilliant smile.

“Do I get to be as cool as you when I grow up?”

That voice. So familiar yet just slightly not right. Not enough that a face sprang to mind but just enough she knew something should be happening in her brain besides slight embarrassment of still being crouched down.

“Well maybe if- Adrien!” She squeaked.

Adrien blushed, which was strange, as she stared at him. How could she not notice him approaching? She’d been too busy with the girl- This was a disaster.

“That’s me?”

“Ohmygod- Sorry! I just wasn’t expecting you. But why would I expect you? I’m Ladybug, I’m really cool.” The word vomit spewing out her mouth didn’t seem to be off-putting to him but still she nearly sunk back to the ground to hide her shame. Ladybug didn’t stutter. She was cool. She shot finger guns.

Why was she shooting finger guns at him right now?

“Sorry if I’m bothering you- I just wanted to ask for an autograph.” He averted his gaze, scratching the back of his neck absently, yet she couldn’t understand why. He was Adrien, he- he was a huge fan of Ladybug. With an insane Ladybug wall to rival her Adrien one. Ladybug, who was also Marinette. But he didn’t know that.

“You’re not bothering me!”

“Oh?”

“In fact, I want to ask you for your autograph. In exchange for mine.”

She smiled, holding out the pen she’d been using to him. Adrien stared at it like it was a live snake before taking it from her hand.

“What do you want me to sign?”

That was a slight flaw in her plan. She had a matter of moments before he realised it too.

“Here.” She pointed to her cheek, turning her head to the side so he could get a better angle.

She tried not to catch his eyes as he leaned forward. That level of intimacy would have sent her straight to A&E. If she wasn’t totally insane she got the distinct impression Adrien’s heart was beating as quickly as her’s. He made the signing quick, snapping back straight once the pen left her cheek.

“Does it look good?” She asked as she faced him again. She already knew what it looked like, this was not her first Adrien autograph.

His gaze was unfocused and he buffered, if that was even possible for a human to do, before answering.

“Y- yep! So good.” His voice uncharacteristically strained.

“Coolio. Now, where do you want me to sign?” She forced herself to smile brightly and try not to think about the fact she asked Adrien to write on her face and he didn’t bat an eye.

“Not on my chest! I want you to sign somewhere normal. Like my face- I mean this picture.”

He held out the pen and a framed photo of herself from a couple months back that had gone viral on the Ladyblog.

Their hands brushed for the slightest of moments as she reached to take the pen, something electric shooting through her body. Adrien squeaked like a trodden on mouse and jumped back, dropping the pen in the process.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, I'm sorry!”

Adrien ducked down at the same time she did, their heads knocking together. Tiny stars exploded in her vision, though she couldn’t tell if it was from bumping her head or the sheer embarrassment nearly causing her to pass out.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” Adrien said, his face stricken with worry.

“No, I should be sorry. Is your forehead okay?”

“I’m fine and don’t apologise! I dropped it, I should pick it up.”

“No, but really-.”

“Don’t even.” He held a hand up to stop her and bent down to pick up the pen.

Marinette giggled as she tried to take it again. This time she made sure their fingers didn’t even so much as brush off each other.

“I’ll have to make this extra special.” She said,

“You don’t have to-.”

“I’m your biggest fan too, I can’t leave you with a subpar signature.”

“Oh.” His face flushed a shade to match the setting sun.

She signed the photo, adding a heart at the end. Adrien beamed down at it once she’d finished.

“Love, Ladybug?” He parroted back what she’d written.

“Reserved for very special people.” She winked, surprising even herself. Adrien cradled the photo close to his heart, hesitantly looking up to meet her eyes.

She would do anything for him to look at her like this when she wasn’t in spots.

Adrien didn’t move and she thought for a second he was about to say something important, something that had threatened to spill out of him since their first interaction. Instead he said this;

“I think this pen is permanent. Will it come off your cheek?”

Her eyes grew wide.

“Sure it will, plus it’ll probably disappear after I detransform.”

It didn’t.

–—-<0>-----

“So did you ever get the autograph?”

It was in the middle of an akuma battle that she’d even remembered the deal she’d made. Chat Noir paused, his eyes flicking to her cheek for the briefest of moments. It was easily brushed off as an innocent glance and she hadn’t been looking anyway.

“I did.”

She smiled. Even though she had no idea who he’d been, the fact the entire deal had led to talking to Adrien made it worth it.

“Was it worth it?”

Chat didn’t answer for a second, dodging a well aimed blast from the akuma. Within moments he was back at her side.

“I’d do it again a thousand times.”

She laughed, zipping away from another blast. “Don’t actually, I might start to recognise you.”

“I have a feeling that you wouldn’t even be able to tell.”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladrien #ladrien june 2023 #ml fanfic #ml fic

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anemptypuddingcup · 2 months

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I’m so sorry I didn’t get the second part of my Zoro series out last night.

I had to go to the ER bc my doctor couldn’t wait for me to get a blood transfusion the next day. On top of that they wanted me to go to my local ER (yes the one that left me in the waiting room for three hours last night). You can only imagine how that went for me last night.

I’m not okay after it, but I’m just happy to be out of there finally.

I went in at 11AM yesterday and came out at 3AM THIS MORNING. LIKE THE ER STAFF WERE SLOW, NOT EVEN DOING THEIR JOBS AND IGNORING PATIENTS WHEN THEY NEEDED ASSISTANCE.

Pudding ranting about her visit at the ER and the medical industry in general-⬇️ alongside an update about the fic-

I called for the nurse four times and she came the fourth time and lied about my blood not being delivered when the people were outside to drop it off and WAITED MORE HOURS TO FINALLY GIVE IT TO ME.

The doctors couldn’t wait for me to get this transfusion yet they were the ones who decided to do my labs before I left the clinic yesterday morning and then call me hours later saying that I HAD to go to the ER and get me a transfusion done.

If my blood pressure and shit was so low, why couldn’t they just do it while I was at the clinic since there was an ER RIGHT BESIDE IT instead of making me have to go to the shitty ER in my goddamn town where they don’t even care about their patients.

It really makes me wonder on if these damn doctors give a shit about the people their supposed to be caring for…I know Sickle Cell isn’t very well known like out there in the medical field and isn’t seen as emergencies…that’s what makes it so hard out there for sickle cell patients like me and others.

But in the end, I shouldn’t be complaining because they want me to feel and do better. It’s just that they also have to do better than what they’re doing with their time management and planning.

I should be grateful that they didn’t have to stick me plenty of times this visit like they usually did with me in my past transfusions. I remember when I was around fifteen and they had to stick me five times in each arm because my veins kept running away from them. (I didn’t get a transfusion done that day.)

So yeah,

On top of all that, while I was editing up the draft and getting ready to post it in the hospital, I ended up deleting it by accident…making me have to go back into my notes and makes the edits that I did in the draft that was deleted…

I’m almost done with it and Ima finish it since I’m done w this damn rant.

#puddingtalking #puddingrants

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johnquinnhughes · 2 years

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The Thing that Should Not Be - Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

!! TECHNICALLY CONTAINS SPOILERS SO YOU PROBABLY SHOULDN’T READ UNTIL AFTER WATCHING VOL. 2 🧡 !!

A/N: Hi, everyone!! This is my first time posting my writing on tumblr. I have thick skin so I won’t ask you to be kind or go easy on me if thats not your thing, but I would love to hear your feedback, whatever it may be! If ya’ll dig this, I may post more in the future.

Also!! The title comes from the Metallica song, but it doesn’t really have anything to do with the fic, I just thought it was fitting.

WARNINGS: This is sad, there’s no other way to put it. If you’re looking for a comfort fic, this ain't the one. It basically follows Eddie’s partner as they mourn him following the events in 4x09. Doesn’t contain explicit spoilers, per say (aka it doesn't go into detail regarding how he died, etc.) but does include some things from the episode. That being said, if you don’t want to read about death, loss and sadness, please don't read this.

It was nearing 3am when the front door opened, in walking Dustin and Steve.

“Oh, thank god,” you exclaimed, nearly jumping on the both of them, one arm wrapped around each boy.

After a moment, you pulled back to look at them. Someone was missing. The most important person, in your biased opinion.

“Where’s Eddie?” You asked, the same grateful smile still plastered on your lips.

Dustin and Steve looked at each other, defeated.

“Dustin? Steve?” You tried again, the smile now slowly falling from your face, “Where’s Eddie?”

With a pained expression, Dustin reached deep into his jacket pocket, pulling out what you immediately recognized as Eddie’s guitar pick necklace.

“I am so sorry, y/n,” Dustin said, holding the object out to you, his bottom lip trembling.

It was like you went into shock. Your entire body felt cold, and you couldn’t move. A sob ripped from your lungs, causing Dustin and Steve to wince.

“No,” you cried, “No, he’s not... he can’t be...”

Your knees gave out, and you collapsed to the carpeted floor, head in your hands as you wailed. The breathless sobs echoed around the living room, tears soaking your t-shirt and the floor below you.

Dustin and Steve knelt beside you, each with a hand on your back, rubbing it soothingly.

“We wanted to save him, y/n,” Steve explained through tears of his own, “But we didn’t get to him in time.”

You looked at them, “Why weren’t you with him?!” You spat.

“I was, initially! But then he just, took off. I tried to go after him, y/n, believe me. I was just too late,” Dustin hung his head in shame.

“He didn’t die alone, y/n,” Steve continued, “He died in Dustin’s arms. Dustin made sure he knew he was cared for. That he was loved.”

You nodded, listening intently before another round of sobs ravaged your body, causing you to curl up on the floor once again, Steve and Dustin not leaving your side.

“I should’ve gone,” you whimpered, “If I had gone, he would still be alive.”

“You don’t know that,” Dustin said, “Please, y/n. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

You sniffled, clutching Eddie’s necklace to your chest. “Oh, Eddie,” you cried, “How could you do this to me? What am I supposed to do without you?”

Steve and Dustin sat with you for the next few hours as you wept. As the sun began to rise, the two of them helped you to bed, tucking you in and placing a glass of water on your bedside table. They decided to stay with you, Steve sleeping on the couch and Dustin on the floor beside him. You wouldn’t admit it in the moment, but they knew you didn’t want to be alone, plus it was now after 7am and they still hadn’t slept.

As you lay in bed, you stared at the empty space beside you, a space that would never be filled again, Eddie’s side of the bed. It might as well have had his name stitched into the sheets.

You lay there, running your fingers over the cool fabric, the coolest it had been in two years. You knew you shouldn’t have done it, because you regretted it immediately, but you picked up Eddie’s pillow and inhaled the remanence of his scent; apple scented shampoo, weed, tobacco, and something you couldn’t describe that was totally and completely Eddie Munson.

Eventually, you did fall asleep, still clutching that damn necklace, and of course, you dreamed of him.

#let me know what y’all think #let me know if it’s ass #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #stranger things s4 #st4 #eddie munson fanfic

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longlivetv · 1 year

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Because post concert high is real, here is a brief synopsis of my Eras experience:

Had a random 3pm meal at Dennys 9/10, would repeat

Approached stadium, not one parking attendant could tell us where ADA parking was. One lady told us to park where Taylor parks, which was clearly incorrect. The guy guarding her parking area directed us to an overpriced lot in which we ended up trapped after the show for an hour and a half. 2/10, would definitely advise against

Tried to meet up with @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes and @fitsinthepalm but could not due to much concourse traffic, and the fact my disabled friends had already had to cover much more ground then anticipated and could not wander around anymore. Cell service was shit, didn’t get most of the messages until k got home. Have bracelets for you, please DM for mailing. 13/10 for concept, 0/10 for execution.

Now things take a turn for the better. Found the correct escalator, and the nice lady working there informed us that the agent at the top of the stairs could probably re-seat us in ADA seating so that my friend Q who uses crutches did not have to climb to section 227 row 30 where our tickets were. We were, in fact, re-seated to section C25 row W5, which was on the club level, much easier for Q to access, and more side stage but also much closer. 15/10 for the stadium personnel who helped us once we were inside.

Had a blast during Gayle and Phoebe’s sets, got water and was able to pee in a womens bathroom at a Taylor Swift concert without waiting in line. 10/10

TAYLOR HOLY SHIT 1300/10

Q proposed to Z during Love Story, I cried, another lovely Swiftie on the other side of Q also filmed. The person next to me lost their mind and a cheer went up around us and it was beautiful. 💜/10

GREEN! DRESS! 10/10 for our fairy Princess

Nothing New *chefs kiss* no notes

Couldn’t tell exactly what was up during Bad Blood but were pleased to stan an artist that has her eye on the crowd and intervened even though she shouldn’t need to. 13/10 for Taylor, -10/10 for security

Solid Surprise Songs, Q and Z danced during This Love

Stuck around to scream for Taylor as she left 13/10 got some solid pics

Exit from stadium was closer than anticipated to parking, 8/10

Trapped in parking lot for an hour and a half no one moving. 1/10

Finally got home at 3am, it is now almost 4, I finally understand why Taylor can’t sleep after shows 🌟/10

#eras philly n2

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lostariel17 · 1 year

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The Mandalorian Season 3 - Post-Binge Opinions

So I just binged the last season of the Mandalorian and while I enjoyed it enough, I do have some opinions about it (because it’s Star Wars and I always have opinions about Star Wars) Since it’s 3am and there’s no way I’m gonna be able to sleep right now, you get them in no particular order.

1. Why do they never close and lock their ship when they leave it? This makes no damn sense and opens them up to the worst possible security issues...

2. Bo-Katan’s throne room is ridiculously big. Alright, it would be impressive if it was filled, but her just lounging there all alone made me want to throw therapist numbers at her.

3. Speaking of therapist, shouldn’t have Grogu have had those PTSD flashbacks earlier? Also, I don’t like them dropping bits so randomly like this. I suppose they’ll use them later in future season. But it felt quite “let’s drop that here since it doesn’t fit anywhere else” to me.

4. I also admit I was bored most of ep3. I just didn’t care about what happened to the doctor and I feel disappointed that the longest episode of the season was almost exclusively about two minor characters, one we don’t even see again later.

5. While Grogu being all toddler “no no no” with Mando was fun and cute, Greef Karga choosing to cannibalize IG-11′s corpse to give like that says a lot about how little thought they give to droids despite them being sentient. Me didn’t like that.

6. Speaking of Grogu in that droid, what the hell was Mando thinking when he took him to Mandalore’s surface??? He knew they were going into an unknown potentially very dangerous situation. Taking the kid with him made absolutely no sense and shows that he really doesn’t have any experience with children.

7. This point may be influenced by fanon, but even if it is, I don’t care. Where are the non-humans Mandalorians??? They are a “swear the Creed, become one of us” people. They shouldn’t be all humans or near-humans!

8. The fights were disappointing, especially the gun fights. Most of them just felt too staged (which I know they are, but they aren’t supposed to feel that way) and boring and like the Mandalorians were Stormtroopers who couldn’t aim. Until they suddenly could 🙄

9. Why are Mandalorians so self-sacrificial? I don’t care that it makes sense with their culture and that it was a logical enough choice. I didn’t want Paz to die!!! I like his big dick/gun energy and the way he’s just very guided by his emotions and his pride. But I guess that’s what fics are so I’m gonna head up to AO3 later, and hopefully someone will have already fulfilled my fix-it need🤞

10. I always assumed that Mando’s first name was Din and his last name Djarin. Which is my Western raising showing I know. They could have told us before the last episode of the 3rd season that it’s the opposite though! Because if they did it earlier, I completely missed it 🤷‍♀️

11. Can they stop making the big bad guy come back in a full black armor? Darth Vader is dead and the vibes are over 🙄

12. The New Republic is proving to be very fussy about procedures and paperwork, which I expected. I didn’t expect them to go the forced indoctrination way though. That part was a bit darker than I expected. I did like it though!

So, this was my post-bing ramble. Hopefully it’ll still make sense when I get up tomorrow!

#my thoughts #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 3 #Star Wars generates opinions in me #This is the way

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eternalowl · 2 years

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Characters from The Owl House meeting and interacting with the Eternals because it’s nearly 3AM and I have nothing else to do and I love both of them (this post is not considering the events of King’s Tide and I’m just gonna pretend none of the Eternals died)

Eda and Thena would get along really well. I don’t why it’s just a feeling.

King absolutely LOVES Thena’s powers because, well, weapons.

Makkari tried to cuddle King. He protested against it but eventually gave in. (The more and more I think about this the more I nEED IT IN MY LIFE-)

Luz becomes best friends with Sersi, Ajak, and Makkari. I will not be taking criticism.

Gus and Sprite… don’t hate each other, but they’re not really friends. I mean, they might bond over their use of illusions a bit but they’re more of acquaintances than anything.

I don’t know why but I can see Ajak and Lilith getting along.

VINEY AND AJAK ARE BEST FRIENDS.

Darius and Kingo would get along… for the most part.

Phastos and Alador would bond over engineering and stuff like that.

Makkari would hand King over to Druig. King would fall in love with his powers.

Willow and Sersi are best friends. Once again, I will not take criticism.

Gus and Sersi would get along well because Gus loves human stuff and Sersi, along with the other Eternals, have so much to do with human history. I think she’d give him a lesson on the history of the human realm to be honest.

Druig and Eda bond over rebellion against gods and the government.

Why do I think Willow’s dads would get along with Gilgamesh and Phastos?

Odalia is too much of a bitch that even Ikaris can’t stand her.

Belos tries to kill everyone.

Ikaris doesn’t really care about any of them.

Ajak emotionally adopts Amity, Edric, and Emira and gives them the loving mother figure they never had. (Ooh fanfic time)

Ajak’s powers can heal everyone’s physical wounds, but she can’t heal their trauma (Hunter asked her to).

Eda, Thena, Phastos, Raine, and Lilith take Ikaris up to the Knee, abandon him, tell him not to provoke the slitherbeast, and then he provokes the slitherbeast. Ajak and Sersi suddenly have the urge to facepalm from all the way back at the Owl House.

Someone gave Ajak a gun so she goes apeshit on Terra. No one attends Terra’s funeral and they instead throw Ajak a party.

Druig tries to eat every food on the Boiling Isles and later regrets it. Ajak later goes full mother-mode on telling him that he shouldn’t have done that and the witches just laugh at him. Luz just shakes her head because she knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle all of the food on the BI on his first day since she has been there for months and is still getting used to it all.

DRUKKARI AND THENAMESH DATES ON THE BOILING ISLES

After the incident with Druig and Boiling Isles cuisine, Ikaris questions what he can and can’t eat. Everyone, but mainly Thena and the Clawthorne Sisters, tell him to eat the bird demons he flies amongst.

Belos tries to force the Eternals into covens even though that’s not how shit works-

Karun and Kingo make a documentary :D

At some point, Amity pulls a Sprite and yeets the camera at the ground.

The Eternals and Owl Crew take turns punting Kikimora after they kidnap her from Belos’s palace.

None of the Eternals can stand Odalia. They break into Blight Manor with the help of Amity, Ed, and Em. They hold Odalia hostage and laugh at her suffering. Sersi was, unfortunately, late for Thena, Ikaris, Druig, Phastos, and Ajak throwing Odalia out a window (she’s only scarred emotionally for the most part).

What have I done

I’m not tagging anything to do with TOH because I’m scARED-

#eternals #eternals thena #eternals ajak #eternals sersi #thenamesh #drukkari #eternals sprite #eternals phastos #eternals kingo #eternals druig #eternals ikaris #eternals gilgamesh #eternals makkari #crossover headcanons #what have i made #what have i done

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thisaccountcannotexist · 1 year

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a memior

When you are almost 23, it’s hard to explain to your boyfriend of 2 years that sometimes you shake because when you were 15, a senior held you down in his backseat and forced himself on you. That the reason you always reiterate how safe he made you feel is because you never felt that way before. The, so called, man you dated before him would put your life on the line for $100 for weed at least once a week.

Rewind.

It started at 14. I thought I knew love. I thought love was the way he chose me to be his first time. I thought it was a teddy bear and chocolates on Valentine’s Day after being belittled for weeks on end. But things would get better, and apologies temporarily healed emotional wounds.

I really thought I knew love. But love isn’t forcing your best friend to blow him and then posting about it on Twitter.

Next.

When a senior tells you you’re pretty when you’re a 15-year-old sophomore, you’ll do anything to believe its love.

But that love isn’t love. Love isn’t getting you so drunk you blackout and throw up out a window and then recording as his best friend takes advantage of you.

And then, when you finally break free, he invites you over to just talk before he leaves for college and say bye (as friends), you go along with it. Because you don’t want him to spread lies about you again if you don’t comply. And when that 19-year-old picks you up at 16 and forces himself on you until you only stop crying because your body is too pre-occupied with convulsing, that sure as hell is not love.

But what’s worst. What’s worst is when you come home, stomach, neck, wrists, thighs and ankles bruised to no one. To absent parents. To a dad who is too busy having an affair with someone not far off from your own age. To a mom who is trying her best to pick up the pieces of a broken family while breaking glass ceilings.

So, you say talk to a friend. But what friends are left when they all believe the rumors from the man who just dehumanized you in his car in a church parking lot. What friends are there when you were kept away from them for so long by the same man that they want nothing to do with you anymore because you’ve been MIA.

So, you’re alone.

You’re alone so you turn to doing the only thing that feels right. Being used. You market yourself not as damaged goods, but as not caring at all. Do what you want with me. Use me. Nothing will hurt as much as that night in the church parking lot. I thought God was supposed to protect you at church.

Being used gets you back out there. You’re invited to parties by another guy who thinks you’ll blow him in the bathroom that night. And if you drink enough or smoke a blunt, who knows maybe you will. If it keeps you around. If it makes you feel something. Why not?

But here’s the thing

This is all before the end of my sophomore year of high school.

There was this one guy. I shouldn’t say was. He still exists, but I’m probably a distant memory now. He made me feel heard. He listened. I’d sneak into his bedroom at night. Not have sex. To talk. I’m not sure he ever really understood what my life had been like in the past 2 years, but he knew I needed someone. I liked him a lot. We’d text ‘til 3am, and he’d make sure I was okay when I seemed off in school.

I thought things would be different with him.

‘til the day he told me he was dating someone. Someone that wasn’t me. I remember asking him if what was between us was all in my head.

His friends told him I was too big of a whore to be seen with.

So, I disappeared.

I don’t think many people could tell you what I was up to during my junior & senior years of high school. It wasn’t much of anything. I had a few friends, only 2 who still acknowledge my existence 4 years later. We’d smoke weed in a car, and drink wine in a basement. I truly don’t know that any of them understood that I was not okay. They thought I was the chill, carefree girl. I was a shell of an 18-year-old.

On a different note.

My cheating father came clean about the same time after his mistress asked me for money or threatened to tell my mom about the affair. My mom already knew.

That same day I ran away for the first time. I got in a car accident.

Less than 6 months later we found out my dad was sick. They told us we’d be lucky if he weren’t in a wheelchair in the next 10 years. I have 4 years left until we find out if they were right or not.

My senior year.

I met a boy from another town. It was a breath of fresh air. Truthfully, he was just as broken as me. Things were never steady, but he was around for a while. A distraction at the least.

I escaped.

Moving to college where I knew less than 5 names was everything I needed.

Freshman year I was roofied and woke up in a house naked with my clothes & phone missing. I found my phone and called an uber home wearing nothing but random clothing of his that I found in the living room. I told no one. I came home at 6 am before my roommates knew anything. That day I showered 3 times. I threw up all week. The bruises reminded me of the church parking lot.

I met someone.

Another breath of fresh air, of hope. He was my freshman year formal date. Things were looking up. Until someone in my sorority brought the guy who roofied me to formal and I threw up so hard in the bathroom that I broke blood vessels. My date still fucked me that night and for hours after I cried in the twin-sized bed beside him while he slept.

Nothing ever came of us. He’d Snapchat me sometimes and invite me to frat parties, nothing special.

The most special thing about us was the nights I’d spend climbing in his bedroom window and smoking weed at 2 am once a week for the majority of my sophomore year of college.

Attention felt good.

Of course, when I felt the most stable I had in months, my sophomore year, the pandemic hit.

Circles had to be kept small, so who better to spend time with than your drug dealer. He was a local. No big shot. It was entertainment when the world around us sucked everything out of us.

There are a lot of memories of that time that I choose to forget.

Lots of first times at 20 for someone who was a “whore” at 16.

The first time he slapped me for not listening.

The first time he forced himself into me while I was asleep.

The first time he took me on a drug deal and locked me in a car with a man with a gun.

The first time he choked me so hard I blacked out.

I tried to leave him multiple times, but the threats kept me coming back. Looking back, I barely remember what they were. But at the time, I was so scared I’d do anything to keep him happy.

Of course, my parents noticed none of this. Or if they did it wasn’t concerning enough to say anything. To protect their own daughter.

I spent most of 2020 drunk or high. Was about the only two things I enjoyed feeling. Make that 3 feelings. Drunk, high, or numb.

Junior year of college.

It started drunk, high or numb. That August was when I became bulimic. If I was going to be a mess, I might as well be skinny. I lost 30 pounds in 3 months. I was a shell of a human. Somedays I still am (just a fat shell now).

I spent my nights climbing in the same window and kissing strangers in bars. Who would have thought that a stranger in a bar would be the one to save me.

He saved me.

That first night I went home with him, I expected to be used & discarded. But that was far from the case. He cared, he was gentle. Over 2 years later & here I am writing this because I don’t know how to explain the past to him.

The first time I said I love you to him I broke down & cried so hard. Did the alcohol in my system have something to do with it. Yes. But what it really was was that every other person I had ever loved had hurt me. Most people it takes months to fall in love. This was a month in. Did I just hand over so much control to this man who could hurt me in a second.

I sat and cried in the dirt outside a party & refused to get up after I said “I love you”. He was so confused. I expected to be left there. Instead, he helped me up, and took me back to his place. I shook so hard on his couch with no tears left to cry while he heated up a warm shower and grabbed me anything I may need. He didn’t know anything about what was going on that night, but what he did know was that I wasn’t okay. He held me all night long.

Since then, he’s been nothing but a supportive best friend. I love him so much for that.

What really sucks

The nights when one little thing triggers a memory, a name pops up, or I think too long and a part of my life I tried so hard to forget comes back.

How do you explain to the one you love & who saved you that the reason you’re shaking is because you know that you made the tiniest mistake earlier and as much as you love and trust him you think about how easily in the past someone you thought you loved would change in a heartbeat and hurt you.

Maybe giving this to him to read would help. Maybe it would hurt. Keeping secrets is never good. But truthfully, I wrote this for myself. Because as much as I know this only a fraction of the story, I’ve never said all of this out loud. I haven’t quite said it yet but writing it is a step in the right direction.

#writing #words #depression #abuse #trauma #rape #love #feelings #dafety #lonely #alone #broken #short story #spilled poetry #memior #journal

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canthelps · 2 years

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it had been four, maybe five months since maxime had last spoken to london, it had been a very abrupt way that the other ended things. at first maxime had been angry, she had been angry for a long time. she didn’t really understand why she was so angry-- they weren’t actually together, despite what she had jokingly said in the voice note that had apparently rubbed the other woman the wrong way. but they had spent a lot of time together, despite living in different continents mostly, and maxime enjoyed the blonde’s company. she tried not to be angry, told herself that this was all inevitable and that they were never going to work out due to her standing and the fact that they lived three and a half thousand miles away.

then, after being angry, max had felt a little relieved. she had gotten the sense for a while that london had wanted more from her, and max had always tried hard to avoid that conversation. they were in different parts of their lives, and max wanted to enjoy her twenties before she inevitably got tied down. she knew from her family that if she hadn’t found a suitable husband by the time she was 30, they would find one for her- it might be 2022, but the french aristocracy still had appearances to uphold and they would rather she be unhappy than it seem like they didnt have control of one of their own. as much as it pained her to admit it, max had always secretly planned to get married to london in her late 20s, if only to fend off the looming arranged marriage, but now it seemed like that wasn’t likely to happen. she should have known that people don’t usually sleep with each other for seven years at a time. london probably would have found someone then, someone who actually lived in the same country as her and wasn’t afraid of settling down.

during their time apart, maxime had been travelling around- a few weeks at her family’s vineyard in the south of france, monaco for the casinos and racing, london for wimbledon and royal ascot, one of her friends had a boat moored in santorini and they’d spent a couple of weeks getting very tanned and very drunk on the bow, and of course she’d spent the entire time racking up the numbers in her body count- but things still never really felt right.

she was in hvar right now- a small island off the coast of croatia, known for its party culture. she had the penthouse suite in one of the finest hotels on the island, and a number of phone calls from her mother and her mother’s staff telling her to come home and stop haemorrhaging money- which she wasn’t doing because london broke up with her. of course not. she just liked to live it up in the summer, its not like she had a job or anything. it was about 3am, and everyone around her was getting ready to go out, but maxime had had a few too many shots and maybe a line too many and she didn’t want to be going to another party, she just wanted to go home. but in that moment, she realised she didn’t want to go back to versailles, back to her mother and the stiff upper lips and her childhood bedroom. she wanted to be tucked up in fresh sheets in a new york apartment in london’s arms.

that was how she found herself sat on the floor of a wardrobe while a party raged on around her, tearfully calling a woman who didn’t want anything to do with her. “Salut, je sais que je ne devrais pas t'appeler, je t'ai vu- merde!” she sighed, before forcing her brain to switch to english. “hi. its me. max. in case you’ve deleted my number off your phone. i know i shouldn’t be calling you since you’ve made it very clear by posting multiple instagram stories a day of you and your new girlfriend. but im in hvar right now, i dont know if you remember but it was one of the places i said i would take you so we could fuck in the fort....” she trailed off, wondering if she should just shut up now.

“i’m uh, i’m sorry if i was rude to you. its weird, i was taught etiquette as a child but actual manners was something that was never on the agenda. and, well. there’s a reason that there’s a stereotype that french people are all assholes. its because we are.” she hiccupped, before deciding that she’d embarrassed herself enough, and she should probably just go all in. “look, i really liked you london, but i never really learnt how to do proper human relationships because my parents hate each other and i’ve been at boarding school since I was four, and before then i had an around the clock nanny. even now all my friends are pretty much just here for the money. i’m not sure any of them would still be here if they’d actually had to pay for their flights and the hotel. but with you... it always felt real? and that scared me. fuck, it scared me so much. i didn’t know how to let loose, to be vulnerable. all i knew is i wanted to spend time with you and have fun. i think i could tell that you wanted something more serious so i started to pull away a little bit” she was crying now, tears streaming down her face as she said everything she’s been meaning to.

“but i also think-- and i’m not trying to make excuses, there was a bit of a culture difference. i didn’t even think i was being mean, that’s just how french people are. we’re blunt. we bully people as flirting. but fuck, i’ve always felt like i was going to marry you one day, i just always thought it would be after i whored it out in my twenties, but then i didn’t even care that much when you started talking about knocking me up, but i think that might just be a kinky thing. i still think the idea is hot by the way, and if you ever do want to breed my royal pussy and make a baby that will be uhhhh-” she paused for a second, counting on her fingers “15th? in line for the french throne, i’m totally down.” maxime sniffed again, taking a deep breath. “sorry, i got distracted. what i was trying to say is, i wanted to whore out, i have been whoring out recently and i’ve realised that i’m sick of waking up in a hotel room bed with a stranger who doesn’t care if i live or die. i want to be in new york, with you and you never taught me how to scramble eggs even though you said you would so you’re gonna have to make some for me, but its okay because i’ll give you the best blow job of your life while you do.”

“anyway. i’m getting sick of the med. i think i’m probably going to go to my penthouse in manhattan for a bit to decompress, because there’s no way in hell i want to face my mother any time soon. if i do go to new york, i’ll come by and say this all in person. well. if i remember what i said because as you can probably tell from the slurring, i’m real fucked up right now. pretty rude of you to not pick up, since i think its only like...9pm there? say hi to the new girlfriend from me, hope her ass is as tight as mine. bon nuit.”

@edgecfeden

#maxime #maxime ft london #this is a self para but it still goes in their tag #also its criminally long lmao turns out max has some ~feelings~

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hanajay769 · 1 year

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Adrien as a sentimonster evidenced in Season 5 episode 19 “pretention”

Spoiler warning for those who haven’t seen it yet!

So everyone is already in agreement that the sentimonsters (Adrien and Félix) are controlled by the Graham de Vanily twin rings right? Which is why Félix wanted the ring so bad in the first place. Oh you’re caught up already? Then good let’s continue!

Ok so basically this episode or this specific part that I want to focus on is about Marionette going to talk to Gabriel about her relationship with Adrien. So they walk into the kitchen and Gabriel starts doing his manipulation tactic, using pancakes as a representation of Marionettes future. But before that he asks Adrien to leave the room. When Adrien rejects this Gabriel doubles down and says this⬇️.

The scene focuses on Gabriels hand tightening in the spatula. Which shouldn’t really mean anything other than “oh I’m getting angry but my voice won’t reveal anything to the viewers but my actions will”. Except for the fact that the hand that’s focused in the middle of it all is his left hand that holds his wedding ring or the Graham de Vanily ring. Which we’ve already established that may or may not be controlling Adrien since he’s a sentimonster.

Then it moves to Adrien reaction to the order and his and Marionettes face. The girl is shocked beyond belief rn, and Adrien just looks angry or concentrated(?)

And then to focus on his hand leaving hers like this was such a dramatic moment. Like I know absolutely nothing about film and movies but little actions showing things like these have to be the creators telling us to “pay attention” or to purposely draw our attention. But moving past the little things and into the biggest point I wanted to make here.

Adrien goes to his room and just.. stands by the door for a good while. And only when Plagg notices do we see Adrian’s face. Completely different than the angry/concentrated expression he had earlier.

The man looks to be distraught and his words make him out to be conflicted. Plagg literally asks “what’s stopping you?” When Adrien says what he wants to be downstairs. And his answer is “I can’t disobey my father”?? Like that’s a plausible argument for the fact that you’re literally stuck in place between your wants and an order.

Then when Marionette ends the conversation between her and Gabriel and as a last resort decides to run up to Adrien and tell him how she feels. Adrien is seen still standing in front of the door when she opens it.

Like he was still torn between his decision.

So anyway. Adrien is a sentimonster and was given a direct order to go to his room. Which that order left him to be extremely conflicted and left him literally stuck in place as he mentally decided what to do.

Yup and that’s All I wanted to bring to attention. It’s 3am and despite this probably being the worst analysis/theory post you’ve ever seen. Please leave your opinions and or thoughts as a comment, I definitely want to dive more into this theory. As I also have more obvious evidence as to why Félix is a sentimonster as well.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous spoilers #miraculous season five #miraculous theory #except it’s not really a theory and more of a obvious observation #I really needed to get this off my chest because it seemed like no one was talking about it #unless it was too obvious that no one needed to talk about it #but still some pretty compelling evidence to try and convince someone that Adrien is a sentimonster #anyway it’s 3am I need to go to sleep

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