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threadsun · 1 year

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@sylveon-and-velveon Asks: "Okay! I got another one for the lil' headcannon prompts! What happens if all the guys found out that MC secretly had bird wings? These wings that can be any species. {You get to choose, or just make it random lol}. And also can be any colour ^^ Have fun on this and don't stress out :3 P.S: You can use the fact on birds getting horny due to their wings being touched."

Oooh this is a fun one!! And gives me the chance to be a bird nerd!! All the descriptions are edited excerpts from each bird's wikipedia article.

I specifically went with the same wings I thought the guys would have, since mating pairs and all that...

Content: yandere tendencies, wing kink, grooming/preening, general vague horniness, teasing, mention of corruption kink, Jean being shifty and manipulative as usual

Jack:

Scarlet Macaw - The scarlet macaw's plumage is mostly scarlet, but the greater upper wing coverts are yellow, the upper sides of the flight feathers of the wings are dark blue, and the undersides of the wing are dark red with metallic gold iridescence. The scarlet macaw is a monogamous bird, with individuals remaining with one partner throughout their lives. While comparatively docile at most times of the year, the scarlet macaw may be formidably aggressive during periods of breeding.

It's not easy to keep your wings hidden. They’re large and they fold around your sides more than across your back. You make do with large sweaters when you go out, but at home you’re used to being able to let them be free.

So when Jack moves in… well, you can only keep your wings hidden for so long before it gets uncomfortable. Before you need to let them breathe, let them flutter. You’ve taken to sneaking off to your room to take your shirt off and let them be free for a little while.

What you don’t expect, is for Jack to wander into your room without knocking, asking you what you want for dinner.

You’re not sure which one of you is more embarrassed. His little red marks almost disappear into his blush, and you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as well as you move your arms quickly to cover your chest.

He stammers out an apology, unable to stop staring at the brightly coloured feathers stretching out behind you. They match his outfit so well. They’re his colours. Your wings are his colours. You have wings.

He’s really not sure what to focus on first, so instead he gently guides you to sit on the bed and begins asking you questions about them. He’s so sincere and sweet, no hint of judgement in his voice as he listens to your explanations.

His fingers trail down your spine, brushing over where your wings meet your shoulder blades. You can’t help but shiver. Your wings are so sensitive, even the gentle brush of his fingertips against the skin where the calamus lays buried to keep your feathers in place is enough to send your skin twitching.

His hand strays into your feathers, gently smoothing down the ones that got ruffled when he’d startled you. It’s… nice. Being preened like this, with such gentle tenderness. Being treated so kindly and without judgement.

And every touch of his hand against your feathers sends a fresh shudder through you, the softness and the arousal a heady combination. There’s no way you’re letting him leave you after this. You’ve found your mate.

Ian:

Rosy-Faced Lovebird – The rosy-faced lovebird's coloration can vary widely among populations. Plumage is identical in males and females. The lovebird is renowned for its sleep position in which two will sit side-by-side and turn their faces in towards each other. Lovebirds are kept alone or in pairs, although due to their social requirements, they are best kept in pairs. The rosy-faced lovebird can be aggressive, and tends to bond towards an individual. Two lovebirds may not always get along, and may have to be separated.

Ian was the first one to notice your wings. They began growing in just as you thought you were finally getting through the last of your puberty. Just your luck, really, to get saddled with a new problem right when you thought things were getting better.

At first, it’s only a few downy barbs poking through your skin. They itch like hell and you can’t quite reach them yourself. So you ask your best friend for help. You don’t expect him to tug on the little baby feathers.

He’s very apologetic when you yelp. He hadn’t realised they were stuck in, and thought removing them might help the itching.

The two of you learn more about it together. He keeps an eye on you as the feathers begin to grow in earnest. He updates you as bones begin to spread and muscles begin to form, all covered in a layer of skin and feathers.

It’s easier to cope with, having Ian there. He does all sorts of research on wings, on birds, trying to figure out why you’re growing them and what sort of wings they are. He learns to preen them and wash them for you, taking care to be gentle.

It’s hard not to fall for him even more, when he’s so sweet with your secret. There’s no fear that he’ll tell anyone, or that he’ll think less of you for it. He’s fascinated by your feathers, and as adoring as always towards you.

When you start properly dating, it becomes even more evident how much he loves you and your wings. When you share a bed, you sleep with foreheads pressed together, one of his arms around you so he can stroke your feathers gently as you two fall asleep. He compliments them as often as he compliments everything else about you.

He learns quite quickly just how... sensitive your wings can get. He’s very apologetic the first time he touches them just so and you give a nervous little whimper. But one look at your blushing face has him reaching out to touch them again.

He loves the way you croon for him when he runs his fingers through your soft plumage. The way you arch into his touch and beg him for more. He’s not the most confident guy, but it’s definitely an ego boost to know exactly how to turn you on~

Shaun:

Common Magpie – The common magpie is believed to be not only among the most intelligent of birds, but also among the most intelligent of all animals. The scapulars are pure white; the wings are black glossed with green or purple, and the primaries have white inner webs, conspicuous when the wing is open. The common magpie is monogamous, and pairs often remain together from one breeding season to the next. The courtship display of the common magpie includes short buoyant flights and chases.

Shaun’s just one of those people that it’s hard to hide things from. Not just because he’s rather perceptive when he wants to be, but also because he’s so open and accepting about everything, it’s hard to feel justified keeping secrets.

It’s something you’ve wanted to tell him about for a long time. But it’s hard to find the courage, and even harder to find the right time for it. Sometimes it’s easier to just rip off the bandage instead. Or, more accurately in this case, your shirt.

He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he is not complaining. He does sort of get the wrong idea at first though.

Once his eyes catch sight of your wings, though, he kind of catches up to what’s going on. He’s pretty speechless, honestly. He doesn’t know what to say, but he can tell that it’s an important moment. That you’re trusting him with something big.

So he does what he does best, and diffuses the tension with a laugh and a grin, and a comment about how he can’t believe you’d hide something so fucking cool from him! Seriously, this is the coolest thing he’s ever seen!

He’s not about to let you feel bad about it. Or second guess showing your wings to him. No, he’s taking the time to look them over and give an endless commentary about how cool they are and what a good aesthetic you could cultivate around them.

He doesn’t really get why you’re so determined to hide them. If he had sick wings like that, especially black glossy ones like yours, he’d be showing them off! But he can tell that it’s important to you that this stay secret. So he promises you and himself that he’ll never tell a soul. And that he’ll do everything in his power to stop others from finding out.

He pesters you constantly to let him touch them. He really wants to feel how soft and sleek they are, especially once you keep them out around him more often. But you always seem to get flustered and avoid the question when he asks.

He kind of catches on to the reason after a while. And then he’s even more determined to touch them. When he finally convinces you it won’t make things weird, he relishes the chance to run his fingers along your wings and listen to you gasp and shudder.

Nick:

Mute Swan – The name 'mute' derives from mute swans being less vocal than other swan species. This large swan is wholly white in plumage, though the feathers are often stained orange-brown by iron and tannins in the water. The mute swan is monogamous and strongly territorial. It can be very aggressive in defence of its nest and is highly protective of its mate and offspring. During a courtship display, the mute swan pair utter a rhythmic song to help synchronize the movements of their heads and necks.

Openness and honesty are something Nick emphasises a lot. He hates the idea of you hiding things from him. So it’s hard to keep your wings secret for very long, once you realise you want a proper relationship with him.

It’s not an easy thing to explain to someone. You sort of stumble through an odd introduction, trying to warm him up to what you’re about to show him. He assures you he’s seen just about everything in his line of work, but…

Well, this is a new one, even for him. He can’t even pretend that he’s seen someone with wings before.

That doesn’t mean he has a problem with it, though. No, he’s very quick to reassure you that this is just another thing that makes you unique and perfect in his eyes. That they’re very beautiful wings and they suit you.

He’s more than a little fascinated by the pure whiteness of your wings. They look almost angelic. Which, he insists, is very fitting for you. He might not say it aloud, but something about that makes his corruption kink sing~

He takes over grooming and preening your wings as soon as you let him. He’s very careful to help you keep them pure and clean. He’ll only bathe them with distilled water free from anything that might stain the snowy feathers.

He doesn’t miss the way you shiver and sigh when his hands work on your wings. The way you give a soft, nearly inaudible hum in the back of your throat when he runs his fingers through them. He often wonders what pretty noises he could draw from you if you let him. What lovely songs he could get from his pretty little bird~

But he won’t touch them beyond cleaning until you invite him to. He wants to see the desperation, wants to tease you until you’re begging for him. He’ll just keep things tame and stick to grooming until you can’t stand it.

And when you finally break at the feeling of his fingers dedicatedly smoothing your feathers back into place, and beg him to fuck you… well, he’s going to see just how worked up he can get you by giving those wings a little tug~

Joseph:

Wild Rock Dove – Often simply referred to as the "pigeon," the wild rock dove is pale grey with two black bars on each wing and glossy yellowish, greenish, and reddish-purple iridescence along its wing feathers. The wild rock dove mates for life, and when displaying, its song is partly sexual, partly threatening. It primarily uses powder down feathers for preening, which gives a soft and silky feel to its plumage. Powder down feathers are spread across the body and have a tendency to disintegrate. The powder, akin to talcum powder, helps maintain the plumage.

Joseph has secrets too. You know this. So why does it feel so bad to keep this from him? You’re not sure, but it really does make you feel guilty, not trusting him with such an important part of you.

He gets it, though. He can tell that you’re hiding something from him, and he assures you that it’s fine. That he’ll be there to listen when you’re ready, but he’ll never pressure you into telling him whatever it is.

Honestly, though… it’s much easier to show him, rather than tell him. It’s as simple as finally letting him take your shirt off.

He’s breathless. Wordless. There’s nothing he can think or say that makes sense of what he’s seeing. He wants to tell you not to worry. That he won’t treat you any different. But he can’t quite seem to get the words out when he tries.

So he does the next best thing. He reaches out and brushes his fingers over the iridescent feathers by your shoulders. They’re hardly noticeable, most of the wings being grey and black. But he sees them. And he thinks they’re beautiful.

With anyone else, you might feel uncomfortable admitting they’re pigeon wings. Pigeons, seen as pests and annoyances. Seen as disgusting vermin. But Joseph has always been vocal about the beauty of the rock dove. And now, about your beauty too.

He freaks out, the first time one of your powder down feathers comes off in his hands and crumbles. He��s terrified that he’s hurt you. But once you explain… well, he wants nothing more than to run his fingers through your feathers and preen you. Spreading that powder on your wings until they’re silky and soft.

It’s akin to a sensual massage, the way that he does it. His fingers dig lightly into the muscles at the top and then soothe through your plumage. It’s relaxing and arousing in one motion, and he doesn’t miss the way you squirm at his touch.

He’s not going to use it against you, exactly. But he does like to stroke your wings while he makes love to you. And when he’s in a teasing mood, he’s prone to running his fingers right along the skin where your wings meet your back.

Jean:

Mourning Dove – The mourning dove, also known as the rain dove or the turtle dove, is a prolific breeder. In warmer areas, this bird may raise up to six broods in a season. The elliptical wings are broad and the plumage is generally light grey-brown with black spotting. The mourning dove often sunbathes, rain bathes, water bathes, and dustbathes. Mated pairs will often preen each other's feathers. The mourning dove is generally monogamous and forms strong pair bonds.

Jean isn’t the type to just ignore it when you’re clearly keeping something from him. And refusing to ever take off your baggy shirts, even when you’re alone together, definitely means you’re keeping something from him.

He’ll try to get you to tell him outright. To convince you to trust him or to tell you how heartbroken he is that you don’t. But if he needs to, he’ll contrive an “accident” where he walks in on you changing.

However it is that he finds out, he’s not as phased as you expect. He’s more… appraising? Almost like he’s wondering how it could benefit him.

He’s very reassuring, though. Soothing. He makes sure you know that he thinks they’re lovely and that you’re still his sweetheart. That he’s happy you trust him with this secret, and he promises to keep all of your secrets, forever.

He becomes more protective over you once he finds out. He’s worried that if other people find out, it’ll take you away from him. That you’ll be so crowded by curious people, he’ll never get to spend time alone with you again.

He urges you to spend more time in the house. And urges you to spend that time with your wings out, so that you can be more comfortable. He takes over preening you, and gets defensive when anyone else tries to touch your back.

He’s so kind and attentive, though, that it’s kind of hard to complain. It is nice having someone taking care of your wings for you. And it is much better being able to let your wings out and stretch them when you’re at home. And you do get his point, about never knowing peace if the general public find out about your wings…

And more important than anything else, it’s hard to think straight when he sits you down between his legs and begins to preen your feathers for you. When he pours warm water over them in the bath and runs his fingers through them until they’re all in place.

He’s not going to give you any serious amount of time to wonder if he’s being overprotective. You’ll be too busy crooning for him, arching into his touch as his nimble fingers work their magic in your feathers.

Rory:

Common Teal – The common teal gives its name to the blue-green colour teal. It is a highly gregarious duck outside the breeding season and is rather nimble on the ground. The outer scapular feathers are white, with a black border to the outer vanes. The primary remiges are dark greyish brown; the speculum feathers are iridescent blackish-green with white tips. The brown upperwing covers have yellowish-white tips. The underwing is whitish, with grey remiges, dense dark spotting on the inner coverts and a dark leading edge.

Rory is smarter than people give him credit for. He watches you closely, gathers evidence, and rather quickly figures out that you’re hiding something under your shirt. Something on your back. Something sensitive, in more than one sense of the word.

He can’t figure out much more than that until you’re willing to tell him, though. So he patiently waits for the right time. For the day that you’re ready to open up to him and finally let him see what you’ve been hiding.

Wings wasn’t at the top of his list, but the thought had crossed his mind more than once. He’s not nearly as surprised as he should be.

No, it makes sense to him. He finally understands a lot of the things you do. And he feels bad about all the effort you have to go to, just to stop people from finding out about them. He understands why you hide it, of course. But he still feels bad.

He prides himself on being a safe person for you. On being someone you can have your wings out around, without having to worry about being judged. He hardly comments on them at all, to make sure you’re comfortable.

When he does talk about them, it’s always with a smile and a warm voice. He makes it very clear that they’re a part of you, and that he loves all of you. Wings included. And that nothing is going to change that.

He’s very happy to help care for your wings. He thinks they’re absolutely gorgeous, and he loves to trace the patterns with his fingertips while he checks for any that are askew. He also loves the way it makes you hum and squirm and generally try to pretend you’re not getting all worked up by his touches.

It’s cute, really. And he loves to see how long he can tease you for under the guise of preening your wings before you give up and ask for things to get more intimate. It’s just so fun to watch you melt under his hands!

Whenever he wants lazy cuddles to turn into something more, his hand will trail up to your back to start gently tracing the outline of your wings. He’ll work his fingers into your feathers and wait for you to take matters into your own hands.

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atherix · 7 months

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Trick or treat :3

trick!

.... No no, you get a treat <3

Excerpt from the been-in-progress-for-a-year sequel to Hands in Fate <3

It's Grumbo <3

Then those three breathless words against his lips, that damning I love you, that stopped him in his tracks.

It made his stomach flip and his heart soar and it felt right.

Except Mumbo didn't know he wasn't mortal.

He looked Mumbo in the eyes, wide with surprise at his own words, and knew it was true.

He leaned their foreheads together and cupped Mumbo's face, gently, in his hands, because love and trust went hand in hand and he knew Mumbo needed to know.

Because how could Mumbo love him when he didn't even know him?

He didn't know something so deep, so personal about Grian- his true self, what he really was- and how could it possibly be fair to let him love the person he thought Grian was?

"Can you keep a secret?" He whispered, gazing into Mumbo's eyes.

(He had never been good with eye contact, even after years of exploring the earth. Watchers had many eyes, not all of them their own, and they rarely used the eyes that mimicked humans'- the two eyes that could only see in the mortal world, the two eyes that blinded their hundreds and thousands of others, the eyes that were their greatest weapon and their greatest weakness.)

"Because I love you too, but there's something you need to know first," he whispered, though in the silence it felt deafening.

Mumbo's hand moved up to Grian's face, feather-light and oh so gentle and warm. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and smiling softly.

"You can tell me anything, Grian. I won't tell anyone, I promise."

Of course he wouldn't- and even though Grian knew Mumbo would have no choice but to keep his secret, the knowledge bound by godly laws to never leave a mortal's lips, it still warmed Grian's heart that the man he loved so much would honestly agree without hesitation.

"Not even your friend? Scar?" Grian murmured, leaning in closer so their lips barely brushed together.

"It's not my secret to share," Mumbo told him, gently pressing a small kiss to his lips.

(Grian was often called a mischievous, troublemaking, but just Watcher. His Judgments, as few of them as there had been, were fair, and he kept the other Watchers on their toes- an amazing feat, considering most Watchers had centuries more experience than him. Yet sitting there in the dark, knowing very well how unfair it was to ask Mumbo to love him and continue loving him, he knew he was really a selfish and greedy man.)

"Close your eyes?" Grian asked, and he trusted Mumbo, he loved Mumbo, he knew Mumbo wouldn't doubt him.

He kissed Mumbo again, a little less soft than before- a little more forceful than was really necessary- and pulled him closer, focusing on them, together, and let his hold on his magic loosen, just a little.

He could feel the eyes hidden among his feathers try to open. He didn't need them, though. All he needed was to let Mumbo See, Hear him.

The pantheons of every god exist inside the Void.

He focused on memories and thoughts, choosing specific ones to gently, carefully, push towards Mumbo. The Pantheon. Grian, the true Grian, in the closest form a human could comprehend. The Watchers. His love. His desire to be mortal, to live a life with Mumbo. Everything Mumbo needed to know before their relationship could go any further, but not so much to overwhelm the man.

When he pulled away from the kiss he opened his eyes, looking into Mumbo's again. The man looked dazed, processing everything, but he didn't even so much as loosen his arm around Grian's waist or drop his hand from Grian's cheek.

"Ah," Mumbo murmured, and Grian couldn't help but laugh.

"Ah?" He repeated. "Is that all you can say to finding out your boyfriend is a literal god?"

"Well it's not too surprising, really," Mumbo chuckled, smiling at him- so gently, so softly, so full of love. "You were already one in my eyes."

#ask #The Vault #posting with friends #Hands in Fate AU #Grumbo #they're so good I love them #I wrote this over a year ago now fun fact

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svtdarlingbby · 5 months

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Let’s Start Some Rumors The8xIdol!Reader - Part 3

pairing: The8 x reader genre: idol au warnings: occasional cursing word count: 1594

Part 1 Part 2

“Are you absolutely sure Y/N?” sighed Minghao as he felt your squeeze his hand.

“Yes, and hey, maybe we could have some fun out of this whole scenario. Trolling is your thing, right?” you laughed as you took your hand off his and playfully nudged his shoulder.

“Yes, I love messing around with the press. I can’t wait to see what carats would say too,” giggled Minghao.

“Good! Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow for the whole dating scandal?” you asked with a more relaxed expression.

“You bet! See you Y/N,” said Minghao as you two parted ways.

Tomorrow was going to cause a scene for sure

The next day arrived rather quickly. Seeing the numbers from your comeback continue to dwindle just made you want to do nothing but sleep early. However, you just couldn't sleep knowing that you were going to go on a date with Minghao of all people the next day. Minghao was your friend, right? You had nothing to be afraid of. But why were you feeling so nervous?

Just as the managers had told you, you arrived to the dressing rooms bright and early that morning. The bright lights of the dressing room conflicted with the remaining sleep that harbored your vision as you rubbed your eyes and suppressed a yawn. But what really woke you up was your utterly handsome friend, dressed in nothing but a black tank top and gray sweatpants waiting patiently for the stylists to bring him his outfit for your "date." His long black hair fell messily above his forehead as he raised a muscular arm to brush his hair out of his tired eyes.

How many minutes had you spent ogling at Minghao? You're not quite sure until he notices you, his eyes instantly brightening. You swore you heard him chuckle before he caught your attention.

"Hey Y/N, come over here!" gestured Minghao, snapping you out of your trance.

"Hi Minghao," you uttered, somewhat softer than you meant to, but nonetheless happy to see him. "It's early, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but at least I'm treating us to coffee later today on our date" chuckled Minghao.

"Oh yeah!" you chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up. That came out way too enthusiastic, oh god! you thought as you mentally cringed at yourself.

Minghao only smiled and was about to say something until you were both bombarded by an army of stylists pulling you in opposite directions. The sudden shift to your curtain snapped you out of your embarrassment as some of the stylists began to lay out the outfit they had chosen for you and the others began to work on your makeup. They had gone with a rather simple look compared to your music video and stage makeup, but it was still effortless and complimented your features nicely. The hair stylist came in shortly afterwards to fix your hair. Like your makeup, your hair was also in a simple style that accentuated your facial features. A cute, simple pastel blue ribbon was also tied into your hair.

You thanked your hair and makeup team before getting up to get changed. Before you, the stylists presented a form-fitting, plain white long sleeve top paired with a frilly black skirt, the length shorter than what you're usually used to. Thankfully, you had the option to pair it with some sheer black tights. The boots were leather and long with a flirty heel. To top it off was a pastel pink trench coat since the weather was colder this season. However, the most important piece of the outfit was the silver infinity sign necklace; the pendant sparkling against the lights was sure to draw attention.

"So, what do you think Y/N?" asked manager Lina, seemingly appealing out of thin air.

"AAHHHH!" you jumped, you scream was loud enough to ensue chuckles among the stylists outside the curtain.

"Sorry! Are you nervous?" chuckled Lina as she nudged your shoulder.

"A little," you admitted, picking up the white shirt.

"Let me give you some privacy!" chirped your overly enthusiastic manager as she stepped out, leaving you alone to change into the outfit.

Sighing, you began to undress and replace your sweats with the flirty outfit the stylists had chosen for you. Once all of the articles of clothing were on you, you looked into the mirror and damn. The stylists at HYBE deserved a raise for making you look so effortlessly hot. The outfit flattered you in every way possible, emphasizing your beautiful body so well. You didn't want to admit how long you had been staring at yourself in the mirror but snapped a full body mirror selfie nonetheless. However, the infinity sign pendant made itself known as it shone against the lights in your selfies. Not going to lie, the necklace really brought the whole outfit together.

"Y/N!? Are you ready? We don't wanna be late!" yelled manager Lina on the other side.

"Coming!" you chirped, this outfit giving you the extra boost of confidence for your date. Wait. Your date. With Minghao. He was going to see you look this sexy with his name practically wrapped around your neck. You were feeling conflicted to say the least.

"OH MY GOSH! Y/N!!?? You've gotta do a sexy concept for you next comeback!" complimented manager Lina as she took in your form, causing you to giggle and feel flustered.

"Ahhh stop manager Lina!" you smiled, hiding your face and turning your body away from her only to bump right into Minghao.

"Oh! Sorry Y/N!" apologized Minghao as he suddenly shut his mouth and took in your appearance.

"Minghao! Sorry I should've paid more attention," you apologized, feeling even more flustered if that was even possible.

"You two are so cute! You look like a real couple!" noted manager Lina. You hate to admit it, but she was right. Minghao's outfit complimented your outfit so well. In fact, your outfits were almost identical. Minghao was wearing a white button up top that was tucked into a pair of black dress pants. He also had a trench coat loosely hanging over his shoulders in a pastel blue shade, which you noticed matched the ribbon in your hair. Then it came to you: the set of your music video was pastel colors. Just like your infinity sign necklace, the shiny flower necklace you wore in your music video was clasped against his neck in an almost obvious manner.

Neither of you knew how to reply, but you swore you saw Minghao smile at her statement. "You look pretty Y/N."

"Oh! Thank you Minghao! Um, you look handsome!" you stumbled but your smile couldn't help but grow as a result of his compliment.

Just as you two were having your little moment, Minghao's manager seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "The matching couples bracelets! We can't forget that!" he gasped, practically out of breath.

The bracelets were simple silver chains with two dangling charms: an infinity sign and a flower, representing the two of you. The both of you promptly slipped on the bracelets, thus completing the visuals to the ultimate "dating" scandal HYBE was about to pull.

"Ah don't they look perfect, Lina?" asked Minghao's manager as Lina nodded.

"The head manager told me to send him pictures before you two headed out! Smile!" she said as she pulled out her phone.

You awkwardly shuffled closer to Minghao and he did the same, maintaining a respectful distance between you two. "Oh come on, you two are supposed to be a couple!" said Manager Lina as she playfully rolled her eyes.

You awkwardly just laughed as you felt Minghao slowly begin to wrap an arm around your shoulders. "Is this okay?" he whispered.

You nodded as his arm rested around you and tried to subtly lean more into him, but just to make the picture look more convincing! In reality, you felt yourself become even more flustered at the physical contact between you and Minghao. Something about him asking if it was okay for him to touch you also stirred some feelings within you as you smiled for the camera.

Nonetheless, you two were ushered into the car that the company had paid for the two of you. As you both sat in the backseat, it felt like you and Minghao were approaching the impending moment that could change the trajectory of your careers. Despite you two being friends, it was still a daunting task.

Minghao noticed how stiff your form was next to him in the vehicle as you fidgeted with the bracelet that represented the both of you. "Are you okay, Y/N? It's not too late, you know," he said softly.

"I know. And I'm as ready as ever if I'm being honest," you replied, still looking down at the bracelet.

"Okay, but just let me know if you are ever uncomfortable," he said, gently patting your shoulder causing you to look into his reassuring and sincere eyes.

"Thank you Minghao," you smiled.

"It's no problem. Treat yourself baby girl, food's on me" Minghao said jokingly, making his voice sound more manly before whipping out the gift card given to him by the company.

You only laughed at his antics. "Baby girl? Oh Hao, I thought you'd be better at pet names!"

"Better? I thought all girl want to be called baby girls?" he feigned offense as you two erupted in laughter.

You're not going to lie, you felt your heart thump at the fact that Minghao called you baby girl even though you couldn't explain why. This man is literally your friend, how come him jokingly calling you baby girl made you flustered? It couldn't be because he was dressed so nicely, matching you and smiling at you, his dimples appearing and his eyes lighting up. But even when you two were joking as usual, he never called you baby girl or anything romantic like that! Your laughter began to subside as the car pulled into the parking lot before Minghao spoke up again.

"Yup, trolling Dispatch and the media and fans is going to be so fun."

Oh. That's right. You two aren't going on an actual date.

part 4 coming soon!

hiiiii sorry I've been missing! I've had school, work, and some major life stuff happen and I felt so bad putting off this series and leaving you guys hanging! I'll try to update more frequently, I forgot how much fun writing is! I hope you enjoy and let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Taglist: @hoshipills @rodygr @shabzy1644 @spilled-coffee-cup @sev0-0 @jeonginssa

#seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #seventeen fic #the8 x reader #minghao x reader #minghao x y/n #minghao x you #the8 scenarios #the8 x you

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forget-you-morelike-fuck-you · 1 year

Text

Heartwork- E.M. Pt. 1

Hi everyone! Let me start by saying that I am sorry for not being around in a while. Life and stuff, you know? I won't bore you with the details, but long story short, I've found some inspiration again and wanted to finish this fic I was requested. I really hope it's been worth the wait!

2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - Epilogue

Masterlist

You and Eddie meet again after several years apart.

TW- cursing, brief mentions nudity, drinking, mentions of smoking (lmk if I missed anything!)

Pairings- Eddie x Reader

Word Count- 1,779

(Gif not mine, credit to owner!)

You always liked Eddie. Not in the googly-eyed, heart-racing, butterflies-in-the-stomach way, but you used to be really great friends, especially when you hung out with him and your best friend pretty much every day in high school when they were together. You remember all the times the three of you sat on Eddie’s couch in the middle of the night, laughing and smoking together while a movie played in the background, just mood music for the three of you to talk about anything and everything until you fell asleep.

You honestly loved seeing Eddie and your bestie being all lovey-dovey to each other. You’d always give a little smile when you caught them in a tender moment, kissing each other sweetly, holding hands, brushing a piece of hair from each other’s faces… You envied her. You didn’t want Eddie, necessarily, but you did hope you’d find someone that treated you the way he treated her.

You stopped talking to them a while after you left for college. Not out of malice or any sort of fall-out among the three of you, but things just got busy. You were working on a degree, after all, and that takes a lot of focus.

You let your bags fall next to you as you walk into your new apartment in the heart of Hawkins. You never knew if you’d come back after you graduated, but in all honesty, after a lot of looking and a lot of thought, you realized you wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. So, you found a well-paying job at the bank as a junior finance advisor and tried to settle back into the place you’d always called home.

You decide to go out and celebrate at the Hideout, and you smile gently as you walk in for the first time in years, remembering that Eddie’s band used to play here. Maybe they still do. You find a seat at the bar and order some food and a stiff drink, thankful that the bar’s within walking distance of your apartment. You thank the bartender as she sets your drink down in front of you and take a sip, letting yourself look around.

It hasn’t changed a bit. Faded red-painted walls stained with cigarette smoke, a rickety oak stage, heavy velvet curtains flanking each side. So many nights spent here dancing with your best friend, whooping and cheering for Eddie and his band, black sharpie Xs on the back of your hands. You smile at the memory, lost in it as you suddenly ache for that friendship again, when you hear your name being called.

“Y/N?” You recognize that voice. You turn your head to the door to spot a tall man, shaggy mess of curls still intact, sporting a jean vest and a tattered band shirt. You set your drink down and stand, smiling ear to ear.

“Eddie?!” You both laugh as you approach each other and pull each other in, you squeezing his middle as his arms wrap around your shoulders. You part and sigh happily, taking him in. “You look exactly the same!” He laughs.

“And you look… completely different! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Chicago at that fancy school?” He places his hands on his hips, his smile intoxicating, like it always was.

You shrug, hands going to your pockets. “I just graduated a couple months ago. I thought about staying there, but it’s not home, ya know?”

“Yeah, I get it. Wasn’t the same without you, though.” You wave a hand dismissively.

“I bet you didn’t even realize I was gone, what with you and Y/BFF/N too busy ogling at each other every second. How is she, by the way?” You watch as his eyes go from joy to something darker, sadder, and you regret asking.

“Eh, it didn’t work out. She actually moved not long ago. Down south, near the river, I think.” You shuffle your feet, eyes flicking down.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Eds, I didn’t—” Eddie waves a hand, his smile returning.

“Don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago now.” It goes quiet, and tension builds. Then, the bartender sets your plate of loaded potato skins down next to your drink, and you try to smile again.

“Wanna sit? I got some food, if you wanna share,” You offer. Eddie’s smile returns too as he nods, and you and he sit, trying to get the momentum going again as Eddie orders a drink.

“So, you still play with the band?” You gesture to the stage. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head.

“No, not anymore. We all got jobs and shit now. Assimilating into society, as it were. Gareth’s engaged, that’s fucking weird.” You both laugh at that, “I don’t know, it’s just crazy to think about. We used to be freaks. Remember when people called us Satanists and stuff? Thought Hellfire was a cult? Now we’re just average fucking chumps with Social Security accounts and shit.” You raise your eyebrows, nodding at the insanity of it all.

“Seems just yesterday we were running around the park after dark, passing around a joint and pushing each other on the swings.”

“Yeah! I remember that. Good times…” He flicks his eyes up, remembering. “I remember once, we were in Y/BBF/N’s pool, and you forgot your swimsuit…” He laughs, and you suddenly remember, and your hands fly to your face, embarrassed laughs spilling out of your mouth.

“Stop! I don’t need to relive that!” You grimace at the memory. Your best friend’s swimsuit didn’t fit, so you opted to just swim in your underwear. What’s the difference, really, anyway? Well, turns out swimsuits are easier to keep on underwater, and your panties slipped down your ass as you climbed the ladder. You’re lucky it was just the two of them, but both Eddie and your best friend called you “Full-Moon” for a month!

“No, no! You looked good! Flaunt what you got and all.” You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you both laugh uncomfortably.

“Yeah, just like that time your pants split right down the middle, and somebody was going commando that day!” You retort.

“Oh, fuck! I completely forgot about that! What were we doing?” Eddie laughs, his brows furrowed in thought as he takes a bite of potato.

“Um,” You rack your brain. “Oh, we were… We were at the apple orchard! You tried to lift Y/BFF/N on your shoulders so she could pick the one she wanted!” Recognition streaks across his face as he laughs.

“Yeah, that’s right! God, and I had to waddle back to the van with both of your jackets around my waist so no one would see!”

“Right! God, that was a great day…” You muse, the laughter subsiding.

You continue reminiscing all through the night, not parting until the bar closes at 1 A.M. You wrap Eddie in a tight hug as the bartender closes the door behind you, locking it and turning the light off. When you pull away, you sigh. “I’m so glad I ran into you, Ed.” Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. You don’t remember the last time you smiled this much, but you bet it was the last time you were here with him. He nods, his hands going to his pockets.

“Yeah, me too. But hey, now that you’re back permanently, we can hang out again. Just like old times.”

“I’d like that. Um, here’s my new number…” You rummage through your purse to find your new business cards you just had made and hand him one. “My personal number is on there, so just give me a shout whenever.” He raises his eyebrows at the card, handling it like it’s a precious photo he doesn’t want smudged.

“Wow! Impressive! Was this whole night just a ploy for me to…” He reads the card, squinting in the darkness. “Seek financial advice?” You both laugh.

“Obviously! I just need to reel in new clients so I’m stalking old friends. You caught me!” You raise your hands up as your face feigns guilt.

“Well, I don’t make enough money to have any left over for warranting advice, but you’ll be the first to know if I do!” He promises. You nod gratefully. “Well, anyway, where’s your car? I’ll walk you.” You thumb in the direction behind you toward your apartment building.

“I actually walked. I just live a couple blocks away.”

“I can give you a ride. I’m parked right there.” He points to a black sedan, definitely an upgrade from the van he drove when you were all in high school. You smile lightly and nod.

“I’d appreciate that, thanks.”

You walk to his car and get in, looking around a bit as Eddie hops in the driver's side. On the dashboard you see a picture, yellowed with time. You pick it up, holding the edges gently, though one side is torn, and see you and Eddie smiling in front of a stage, the Hideout stage, actually. It’s a photo from Corroded Coffin’s first gig there. The ripped edge is right where your best friend’s arm is linked with Eddie’s. You let out a little gasp.

“You still have this? I think I lost most of my photos when I moved to college. Though, they might be boxed up somewhere in my parents’ attic.” Eddie looks down with a tentative smile as he starts the ignition.

“Yeah… after things ended with Y/BFF/N, I got rid of a lot of stuff with her in it, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of this one. So, I just modified it a bit.” You feel sad bringing Y/BFF/N up, but you can’t help but ask.

“Was it bad?” Eddie scoffs, flicking his eyes to the window.

“Yeah.” That’s all he has to say, and so you leave it there, not wanting to push him. You direct Eddie to your building and lean over the center console to hug him before getting out.

“Thanks for the ride, Ed.”

“No problem. I’ll call you soon, okay? Now that you’re back, I’m not letting you go again, got it?” You feel your heart jump unexpectedly at that, but you nod.

“Got it. I’ll talk to you soon. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” You close the door behind you and wave as he drives away before turning and walking into the building and up to your apartment. As you close the door, you smile, remembering everything, and you realize that this is the happiest you’ve felt in a long time. As you get ready for bed, you can’t help but hope that Eddie will call sooner rather than later.

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic

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otomefiend · 1 year

Text

Alfons Sylvatica

Story Event: Black Wedding. A false vow to a dark bride.

Chapter 3 Bitter

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Hear me out. I wanted to include the Bitter ending anyway, and it flows better imo to go from mc's pov to the suitor's. Hence the premium chapter will come after this one.

~~Part 1~~

Before we knew it, the person we've been waiting for all this time appeared at the altar.

Guru: "...where's everyone? My precious believers...?"

(The lovers... this man is responsible for killing all those people)

Alfons: "I'm good with my hands, so I've done a little work on them."

Alfons: "Right now, your precious believers should be treated by a shrink."

Alfons: "Rest assured, we will provide you with generous support under the patronage of Her Majesty the Queen."

Guru: "Her Majesty the Queen....? Who the hell are you people?"

Alfons: "What does it matter where us, nobodies come from?"

Alfons: "Now, let's begin our delighful, delightful wedding ceremony."

Guru: ".... now, wait a minute."

Alfons: "Oh, do you have any complaints?"

Alfons: "Ah! We haven't said our vows yet. What a terrible discourtesy."

Alfons: "Kate."

Alfons removed my veil and peered into my face.

Alfons: "I love you, my bride. Will you be my toy for the rest of your life?"

Alfons: "What's your answer?"

~~Part 2~~

When he looked into my face at such close proximity, I answered without thinking.

Kate: "Y-yes..."

Alfons: "Heh, an excellent response."

(Ah, my heart just fluttered unexpectedly...)

Alfons: "Are you satisfied now?"

Guru: "....don't be ridiculous!"

Before the man had a chance to pull out his knife, Alfons was already behind him.

He removed the leather glove with his mouth and brushed his fingertips up the nape of the man's neck.

(....it's Alfons' ability to show illusions)

Guru: "......"

Guru: " ...Olivia?"

Kate: "Huh?"

The man's eyes widened in surprise when he saw me.

And then, they gradually filled with joy--

Guru: "My Olivia....."

Kate: "!"

He rushed over, kneeled down, and hugged my feet.

Guru: "You're supposed to be dead. Why are you here...?"

Guru: "Ah, it doesn't matter. I wanted to see you..."

(I look like this person's dead lover, don't I)

His clinging gaze and the strength of his embrace made me realize the intensity of his affection.

Alfons: "Let's ask him why he committed those murder?"

I was afraid to ask, but -- as a fairytale writer, I had to do it.

Kate: "Why did you do this?"

~~Part 3~~

Alfons: "Let's ask him why he committed those murder?"

I was afraid to ask, but -- as a fairytale writer, I had to do it.

Kate: "Why did you do this?"

Guru: "'When you died from your illness, I despaired that I'd never be able to hold you in my arms again."

Guru: "At that time, I came across a book. In that book, it was written..."

Guru: "He who sacrifices lovers can make the dead rise again."

(It couldn't possibly happen, so why)

Alfons: "The world is overflowing with alchemy-like books."

Alfons: "Among the bodies piled up in the basement, there was a coffin."

Alfons: "The remains of a woman were carefully stored in there."

(It was the body of Olivia)

(....this person's heart is broken by the loss of a loved one)

Guru: "The book was right...!"

Guru: "That's why you showed yourself like this in front of me, isn't it?"

Kate: ".....n"

Guru: "Olivia? Are you dead? Or are you ......"

Guru: "Anything. Anything you want. ......just, please."

Guru: "Don't ever leave me again..."

Alfons: "Shouldn't you answer him, bride?"

(Well, I don't know what to say. But--)

Kate: "This is wrong--"

Alfons: "Too bad. Time's up, you know."

He pulled out his sabre and pierced the man's heart in one swift motion.

(......n)

Guru: "...Oli...via..."

Alfons: "Oh, what a happy face for a murderer."

Alfons: "I'm glad the painful reality won't chase him anymore."

~~Part 4~~

When he was no longer breathing, Alfons called in the Crown to clear the bodies.

That would ensure no more lovers died there.

Alfons: 'Well then, thank you for the last two days' work. This has been a real pain."

Alfons: "Oh, what's wrong, Kate? You look anxious."

Kate: "......"

Kate: "That man must have suffered from reliving his happy memories over and over again."

Alfons: "I'd rather just forget than let the memories torment me."

Kate: "Huh?"

Alfons: "Then there would be no pain, no suffering, only comedy."

(Sure, that would be nice)

Kate: "I wish it was possible, but it isn't..."

Alfons: "…………..?"

Kate: "The more precious the memory, the harder it is to forget."

(It's like they're etched deep into my heart)

Whether it brought people hope or misfortune, I couldn't yet say for sure.

Alfons: ".... Kate, may I borrow your mouth?"

Kate: "Eh...... mmm."

Kate: ".....candy?"

Alfons: "Yes, I pinched it. I told you, I'm good with my hands."

The candy thrown into my mouth released a delicate sweetness.

Alfons: "The candy has a little trick to it."

(No way......)

Kate: "Poison..."

Alfons: "Heh, you wouldn't be alive right now, would you."

Kate: "What is it then?"

Alfons: "Eating the candy does wonders. You'll forget everything that happened today."

(Forget everything?)

Kate: "Alfons, you want me to forget --"

I started speaking, then paused.

(No. Surely that can't be it.)

Alfons always hid his true intentions behind flippant remarks, but

(Is it possible....)

Kate: "......do you want me to remember?"

~~Part 5~~

Alfons: "Eating the candy does wonders. You'll forget everything that happened today."

(Forget everything?)

Kate: "Alfons, you want me to forget --"

I started speaking, then paused.

(No. Surely that can't be it.)

Alfons always hid his true intentions behind flippant remarks, but

(Is it possible....)

Kate: "......do you want me to remember?"

Alfons: "Haha!"

Alfons: "Yes, I want you to remember for a long time."

Alfons: "But...forget that I said it."

Kate: "Alfons?"

Alfons: "What colour is the candy you're eating right now, Kate?"

Kate: "What? It's..."

Alfons: "Ha, you see."

Kate: "Doh, I just didn't notice it because it was thrown in my mouth."

Alfons: "You are very good at making excuses, little Robin."

Kate: "Hey, Alfons!"

~~~

The next day, I described the case in a report and submitted it.

Victor: "I have received your report. I will present it properly to Her Majesty, so you don't need to worry."

Kate: "Please. Oh, and thank you for the wedding dress."

Victor: "It was lovely, wasn't it? I thought I'd take the opportunity to get something that would suit you."

Victor: "A pure white dress would have been nice, but black felt more appropriate! So, you know..."

Victor's tense speech picked up pace and involuntarily made me laugh.

Victor: "Oh, yes. The dress was my idea...."

Victor: "...but the veil was chosen by Alfons."

Kate: "Huh?"

Victor: "........"

Victor: "I believe he's heading for a mission now.”

Victor: "If you chase him, I'm sure you're going to make it in time...."

Kate: "...I'm going."

~~~

Alfons Sylvatica. He was impudent and deceitful - a nightmare.

And today, he still confused and drove me crazy.

I would rather not get involved with him when my heart and my mind were at risk--

Kate: "Alfons."

Alfons: "Kate? What's wrong?"

Kate: "Can I accompany you on your mission?"

Alfons: "......."

Alfons: "You never learn, do you?"

I couldn't help wanting to know him.

Chapter 3 Premium

#ikemen villains #ikevil #alfons sylvatica #ikevil alfons #ikevil story event #story event #fan translation

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leighsartworks216 · 4 months

Text

Cure Wounds

Wyll Ravengard x male!OC

Super self-indulgent smut between my dnd OC Romero and Wyll. If you have any questions about Romero, please please please ask!! I love talking about him and some of the stuff I reference here is kinda "if you know you know" (like mentions of his family), so if you wanna know, please ask

Thank you @shenanigans-and-imagines for encouraging me to write more self-indulgent oc fics <333

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: swearing, scratching, marking each other (hickeys), bruises, brief mention of battle scars, anal fingering and sex, possibly OOC Wyll

Word Count: 4,364

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Do you remember how I used to heal you?”

Wyll chuckled, grinning at the mere memories that passed through his mind. “How could I forget? You would insist on kissing each bruise and cut, singing spells all the while.”

Warm sun flooded through the gauzy curtains that hung before the balcony doors. It warmed their skin, golden beams highlighting the scars they’d earned over their adventure to free their minds of tadpoles. It had turned out much more involved than any of them could have guessed. And despite the stories and tales that came of it, they were both quite glad for it to be over.

Romero lifted himself from his lover’s chest, the soft sheets slipping down his body as he supported himself on his arms to lean over his beloved. “I had to sing, it makes the spells more potent.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“I’m a bard! What about it sounds untrue?”

“That you only did such a thing with me, for starters,” Wyll said through a laugh. He reached up and carefully weaved his fingers through Romero’s long dreads, threading the thick strands between each digit and holding on lightly. It was always a treat to see his hair loose, rather than tied up by the ribbon he carried around. It fell wildly over his shoulders and framed his face. Wyll felt lucky to see him like this. “If anyone else were injured, a quick spell under your breath and they were right as rain.”

Romero leaned down until his chest pressed to Wyll’s, both rising and falling in a dance with each inhale and exhale. Their noses were only inches apart. Their eyes flickered about their faces, openly admiring the man they married. Sometimes, Wyll could not believe he had been so fortunate to stumble across Romero’s path thanks to that damned nautolid. After seven years, he remembered what it meant to be Wyll Ravengard, not only the Blade of Frontiers.

“Would you rather I’d kissed all their wounds, too?” the bard teased.

“Not as such, no, but I can’t help wondering why you did so with me.” When Romero smirked wide and devilish, he quickly added, “For reasons other than being your partner.”

Romero snickered, but he did not answer right away. His smile softened. “Because of my reputation, you mean?”

Wyll hummed, apologetically. “You weren’t exactly well known for long-term relationships.”

“No one in my family is - you’re perhaps the first among any of us to be properly courted.” He sighed softly and ducked his head to brush his nose along his neck, closing his eyes and appreciating the gift he’d been granted to indulge in this closeness. “I never did it to lure you into sex,” he assured in a whisper. “I never wished to pressure you like that… But I still wanted to love you, in the best way I knew how. Being able to kiss you - just kiss you - my love, it satisfied me more than an ocean of ale or banquet of roast meats ever could.”

Wyll let out a quiet breath. “Just to kiss me.”

“Even now,” he said, pulling back to speak face-to-face, “if you said for the rest of our days, this was all I could have: a cuddle and nothing else - I would never want for more.”

Their hearts thudded pleasantly against their ribs in a call-and-response of their souls, each beat like the skipping step of two lovestruck fools frolicking through an endless field of wildflowers, hand in hand. In all his past sexual encounters, never had Romero ever felt like this with anyone before Wyll. Never had his heart raced at the mere thought of a touch, nor had his mind been so consumed with thoughts of the other, no matter how mundane. It was addictive in its own right. And he prayed to any god willing to listen that this feeling would never fade.

Wyll smiled, warm and adoring, as his hand slipped from Romero’s hair to his cheek. “You can have much more than a cuddle, my love,” he promised. “No singing required.”

Chuckles and grins got in the way as he pulled his husband down to him, teeth clacking and lips barely brushing in the clumsy mess of it all. But it was wonderful. Once they could gather themselves, their laughs died down and the kiss became one for the ages: tender and gentle, yet full of passion.

Romero leaned more weight to one hand so he could tangle the other in Wyll’s hair. It had grown longer since the end of their quest. He took great pleasure in helping his beloved wash and retwist his locs, and he adored being able to tug on it in moments like this. Wyll vocalized his enjoyment with a groan, urging his head back further into the pillow despite his horns poking into the plush so he could follow the pull.

“How much more than a cuddle?” Romero teased into the kiss.

Wyll grabbed his waist and guided his lover to straddle his lap. Then he pushed himself up to a sit, chasing Romero’s lips, never wishing to be parted from them. He was free to do so, to experience moments like this not in one night of debauchery to be forgotten, but for years to come. He slid his hand along his back, pressing the bard closer. Romero acted in kind, one of his hands pulling him closer by his hair, and the other cradling his neck fondly. The calloused pad of his thumb stroked along Wyll’s scars, brushing along his stubble. When Wyll pulled away, Romero let him, but wouldn’t allow him to stray too far, pressing their foreheads together and sharing each breath.

He peered up at his lover with his one good eye, now a bloody red from Mizora’s punishment. Dark brown eyes looked back at him, blown with affection and lust. Even when he’d sprouted horns and ridges, he’d never looked at Wyll any differently. There was never disgust in his eyes directed at him. He left a chaste kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“As I said in my vows, Wyll Ravengard belongs to you.” he whispered. This close, he could feel the way Romero’s heart skipped a beat. The awe in his eyes - the full realization of what those words meant. I have your heart, and you have mine.

So long ago it seemed, when Romero flirted and fawned over Wyll, they kissed. A proper kiss, but it never went any further. Wyll wanted to do this properly, to wait. He could not have Romero’s body without first having his heart. And now he did, just as Romero had his.

Romero crashed his lips against Wyll’s, kissing him with as much passion and love as he could muster. His heart felt like it was bursting with love, almost painful as he desperately tried to be as close to his husband as possible. He slid a dextrous hand along Wyll’s spine, pushing his nightshirt up as he traced the ridges and scars that adorned his body. He pulled away from the kiss just long enough to maneuver the shirt over his horns and toss it to the floor, and then his hand was back in his hair, tugging him close, and his teeth were nipping at his plush lips.

“I love you,” he murmured in between each kiss. He couldn’t stop saying it. And Wyll couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot each time he did.

“I love you, too. By Balduran’s blade, I love you.” He worked quickly at the buttons of Romero’s shirt. It was half open already, as Romero loved to show off his chest and the tattoo on his right peck.

Once it was fully undone, he pushed his hands inside, caressing the warm skin now exposed to him. Romero sighed, arching his back just to have more contact. Gods, his skin was so soft. He felt down his back, up his sides, his stomach - everywhere he could reach. It would never be enough.

Wyll pulled away from the kiss, but his mouth immediately found purchase on his neck. The hand in his hair tightened, tugging and pressing him further into his skin, the other digging blunt nails into his shoulder. He could just imagine his beloved’s face. His eyes closed as he whines and begs for more, his mouth parted as he moans. When Wyll finds his pulse point just below his jaw, Romero won’t let him move until he sucks a mark into his skin, a pretty bruise that claimed ownership. He was certain he would have his own marks before all was done.

He trailed his mouth lower, lips brushing over his Adam’s apple and collarbones in open-mouth kisses. He deviated at his sternum to kiss and nip at his tattoo. It was a six-pointed star, denoting himself as a child of a famous bard who had more children than Wyll could fully wrap his head around. He traced each line, bit at each point, sucked at the open center. Romero groaned, craning his neck to place a kiss on Wyll’s head.

“My love, I need you,” he breathed. “Please.”

Wyll grabbed his waist and pressed to designate a side. He did not have the strength to push his love around, but Romero certainly did.

With arms wrapped around his neck, he was rolled over. Romero’s head fell back into the plush of pillows and Wyll was above him, trapped by the legs around his hips. He was tugged up by his horns into another crushing kiss. If their lips were not bruised and swollen, he would think it a miracle of the gods.

Romero slid his tongue along Wyll’s bottom lip. He opened his mouth instantly, moaning and tilting his head, wishing for more. He dug his nails into the bard’s hips, pushing down the hem of his sleep pants so he could grab even more, to trace his thumbs along the v-line that led like a pointing arrow to his arousal. His mouth watered at the idea of kissing along those creases, of marking his love where only he could see and enjoy. Of taking him into his mouth and placing his hands on his horns so he could be guided, used for his love to take all the pleasure he could ever want from him.

But not right now. They were too desperate to feel each other, to become as one. Soon, he told himself. He would make a whole day to spend with his love, with no politics or expectations, just to experience everything they could offer each other. One day.

His hands slid further into his pants, following his skin to grasp onto his ass and lift his hips up to grind against his own. They moaned into each other’s mouths at the slightest bit of friction. They could each feel just how aroused the other was. It was maddening.

He pulled away from the kiss, breathless. Romero loosened his hold on his hips, relaxing his legs so Wyll could sit up and push them apart further. They both looked like messes, he was sure, but he could not help admiring how beautiful his husband looked when he was so eager and marked up.

“Tell me what you want of me.” He guided Romero’s pants down his hips, lifting him up by his ass so he could slip them out from under him. Further still, his mismatched eyes could not tear from the beautiful half-lidded brown eyes of his lover as his cock sprung free from its cloth prison. He sidled back as he guided them down his legs. “Tell me everything you want me to do, and I will. Anything you ask of me,” he breathed, finally tossing the pants to the side and guiding one of his legs up so he could kiss his thigh, sucking at the skin by his knee, worshipping every inch he could, “say the word and it is yours.”

Gods, Romero’s head was spinning. A million images and desires flickered through his mind, ways to be taken and take in return, to taste and feel. The thoughts that filled his head, of Wyll in so many positions, so debauched and used, it would have sent him over the edge in an instant if he had been getting himself off. The mere prospect alone, of a partner who put themselves in another’s hands so easily, to be manipulated like putty to any whim or desire - it would occupy his every waking thought for weeks if he wasn’t careful.

“I need you to fuck me,” he told him. “I need to feel you inside of me, I need you to- Gods.” His hips bucked against air as Wyll slowly, so slowly, trailed his way down his inner thigh. Seeing his face so close to his aching cock had him flushing with arousal and want. “I need you to touch me and kiss me and just fucking fuck me, please.”

“So articulate,” Wyll teased against his skin. Romero whined. He’d never take it to heart; he fell apart so easily under Wyll, all flowery expressions of love were the first to devolve.

Wyll slid off the end of the bed to remove his pants, already much too hard and much too needy. Just the sight of his husband laid out on their shared bed, golden-brown skin gleaming in the sun’s morning rays, had his member twitching with anticipation.

He crawled back on the bed, over his lover, kissing him deeply as he reached into the nightstand for the bottle of oil. Romero grabbed Wyll’s hips and drew him down, grinding their dicks together. They moaned desperately, barely able to keep their mouths connected. Thanks to Mizora’s punishment, Wyll’s cock was lined with bumps and ridges. It had been extremely embarrassing at first, and a point of self-consciousness on their wedding night, but Romero had assured Wyll in multiple ways (though most often with his mouth) it was not an unwelcome part of his curse.

He poured a generous amount of oil into his hand and dropped the closed bottle on the bed beside them. With one hand, he pushed one of Romero’s legs up against his chest, and with the other he gently prodded at his entrance.

Romero hissed as a finger was slowly pushed inside him, followed soon after by another. He had to pull away to catch his breath, burying his face in Wyll’s neck as he wrapped his arms around Wyll. His fingers slid carefully in and out of him, pushing as far as they would reach and pulling out almost entirely before he pressed in again. Breathless curses fanned across Wyll’s scarred skin, mixed with little pecks and beautiful keening sounds, like music to his ears. When he was opened enough to push a third finger in, he felt Romero’s cock twitch against his, weeping with precum.

“Please,” he whimpered. He grabbed at Wyll’s ass, dug his nails in at his shoulder blade, trying to pull him as close as he possibly could. “I’m ready, I need you. Please, my love, need you inside me.”

He eased his fingers out of him and poured more oil into his hand. He rubbed it along his cock, knuckles brushing along the underside of Romero’s drawing out needy little breaths. He pulled back slightly to see what he was doing as he lined himself up. Romero’s stomach was already glistening with both their precum, the tell-tale drips of Wyll’s own decorating his cock. He had to restrain himself so he didn’t try to clean him up with his mouth.

Slowly, as gently as he could manage, the head of his cock pushed into his asshole. A guttural moan reverberated from the bard’s throat, choking off at the end as his cock pushed deeper and stretched him further.

It felt so fucking incredible. Tight walls clenching around him with the slightest movement, the heat enveloping him. Wyll groaned as he fully sheathed himself inside. He ran a hand along Romero’s side, caressing him and urging him to relax into it.

“If I ever get used to this feeling,” Wyll murmured by his ear, “I could be tempted to make another deal to remember it again.”

Romero chuckled airily, running a hand down Wyll’s locs and softly tangling his fingers in the ends. “Don’t worry, my prince, I’ll make sure you never get used to it.”

They laughed quietly together, holding each other close in a tender moment. When the laughter died down, Romero pulled his head from Wyll’s neck and kissed him. It was not lustful or desperate. It was slow and sweet, as if all time around them stopped just so they could indulge in this moment.

They pulled away slowly and pressed their foreheads together. Wyll looked at Romero so warmly, and so attentively, waiting for his signal before he moved again. They stayed there for a moment longer. Then, Romero nodded, and Wyll slowly pulled out.

They choked on shared air as the bumps and ridges lining Wyll’s cock grated and rubbed against Romero’s sensitive walls. Almost all the way out, he thrust slowly back in, fully seated once more. A pitiful whine came unbidden from his husband’s throat. He did not wait long before his hips were moving at a slow, consistent rhythm.

Someone swore, but Wyll couldn’t tell if it was him or Romero. The result was the same: Wyll picked up the pace, thrusting faster, losing himself to the pleasure, spurned on by every choked, panted breath and quiet plea for more, more, more. He pressed his cheek to Romero’s temple, wishing he could bury his face in his neck without risk of butting him with his horns. How he would happily ravage the skin there, feeling the vibration of his cries against his lips. Maybe Romero sensed the way he held back, felt the strain in his neck and shoulders not to give in lest he hurt his beloved, for he grabbed Wyll’s horn, pulled to make the young Duke crane his neck, and kissed feverishly over his pulse, his Adam’s apple, his jawline.

He sucked and bit a matching mark just below his jaw, where his heart could be felt strongest, as it raced and rushed with ecstasy. He cried Wyll’s name by his ear, before his words devolved into stammered nonsense before biting just under his earlobe in a lousy attempt to try getting his wits back.

Wyll pushed Romero’s other leg back against his chest, hands pressing under his knees to keep him contorted just like that. Gods, just like that.

He dug his nails into his skin, clawing at his flesh and urging himself to go faster, fuck him harder. He broke himself out of Romero’s hold to crash his mouth against his, open-mouthed and panting.

Birds chirped, greeting the new day. Down below, the market was waking up, stalls being set up and vendors chatting with each other. None of it mattered. None of it reached even the edge of their senses. Wyll growled and Romero swallowed it, responding with his own moan. Nothing else mattered.

Romero scratched at Wyll’s back and arched his own, longing to feel every inch of him that he could. Wyll hissed at the sting, but the pain faded from his mind when he was pulled close so the bard could hug him, crooning like the most beautiful songbird by his ear. Wyll felt the knuckles of Romero’s other hand brush his stomach as he stroked himself, fucking into his hand as Wyll’s thrusts became rushed and uneven.

“Love you,” Romero muttered breathlessly, choking on a moan. “Love you so much. ‘M yours. Gods, you have me. You have all of me. My beautiful prince.”

Wyll let go of one of his legs to cup his cheek. Romero immediately responded to the touch, moving to press his forehead to Wyll’s. His eyes fought through ecstasy to look up at him, half-lidded eyes squeezing tight before being forced open to see his husband.

“My handsome knight,” Wyll gasped. “So close.” His hips stuttered and his eyes shut, a whine leaving him as he pressed his forehead harder against his love’s. “Let me fill you. Let me fall apart with you. I want to be one with you, my love.”

Romero leaned up to kiss him, and Wyll responded in kind. His heart raced as his hips faltered, frantically thrusting as deep as he could possibly go, his pelvis crushing against Romero’s. He cried out, mouth falling open around his beloved’s name, panted and whining, lips still brushing against each other because they couldn’t bear the idea of parting.

His hot cum spilled in large spurts, driving Romero mad as he was filled. Romero tugged desperately at his cock, squeezing as his hips bucked up into his hand, until he finally found his release. A guttural groan morphed into a high-pitched whine as he worked himself through his orgasm, cum coating his stomach and hand. He only stopped when he became so oversensitive it hurt.

They laid there, panting, clinging to each other. Sweat glistened on their bodies in the mid-morning sun. Too soon they would have to greet the day, too soon Wyll would be dragged into courtly meetings and Romero would venture off into the city to help with what rebuilding he could. They wouldn’t see each other again until late in the evening, if they didn’t make an effort to share lunch together, and more often than not these days they had to forgo that small slice of domestic bliss. Staying here, even hot and sticky and sweaty, let them linger just that moment longer.

When Romero caught his breath, he slid his hand from Wyll’s shoulder to his cheek. He guided Wyll into a kiss once more, soft, barely even a brush of lips. Goosebumps trailed the young Duke’s skin at the delicacy. He should have known it would not last, however.

He felt the smirk grow on his lover’s lips before he saw it, and before he registered what mischief his love would pull now.

Romero trailed kisses along his cheek, down his jaw, and to the dark bruise he’d left at his pulse. It was sensitive to even the lightest brush, a slight hiss escaping Wyll when a kiss was placed over the darkest section. His lips brushed over it again, but before Wyll could scold him, the song-like whisper of Te curo hit his ears and the pain was gone.

He burst out laughing. He carefully slid out of Romero so he could sit back on his knees, still chuckling, his red eye gleaming with joy and fondness. “Do not tell me this was your plan all along.”

“It wasn’t!” Romero quickly assured him through a cackle. “But how could I resist? Far be it from me to leave a lover suffering because I couldn’t help myself.”

“I don’t know about ‘suffering’ - I quite liked it.” He brushed a thumb over the bruises at Romero’s neck. “And I know you did, but I suspect you’re not going to let me heal you.”

Romero chuckled, taking Wyll’s hand and curling his fingers so he could kiss his knuckles, asking playfully, “Would you like me to let you heal me?”

Wyll sighed, contemplative, a soft grin on his lips as he studied the constellations decorating his neck and chest. His love would walk down the streets of Baldur’s Gate, shirt wide open, marks on full display for the populace. It made Wyll flush just imagining it, but it stirred something unpleasant in his gut. As much as he loved marking his husband for himself to see, the thought of everyone else seeing it and knowing their private business made him feel exposed.

“Yes,” he finally answered. Romero smiled, understanding without words the thoughts going on in that head of his. He was always good at reading people, understanding their reasoning, how they thought, but he knew no one as well as he knew his husband.

Wyll slipped his hand from the warm grasp of his beloved, not without a kind squeeze to his fingers first. Romero watched in quiet admiration at the magical abilities of his love, as his hands performed practiced poses, glowing in mystical light. Wyll had a habit of casting his spells with a strong voice, like the words alone would strike terror into his foes. Even now, with a rough Sanitatem ius, a red elixir in a bottle forms itself in his hand.

He uncorks it and cups the back of the bard’s neck, lifting his head and bringing the lip of the bottle to his mouth. Romero didn’t take his eyes off Wyll’s, watching him with warm, dark eyes mellowed with overwhelming affection. He dutifully swallowed every ounce as his head was guided back to follow the tilt of the bottle, Adam’s apple bobbing and bruises already fading with each second. Once the bottle was empty, vanishing into thin air in a wisp of color, Wyll couldn’t resist leaning down and kissing him. His tongue ran along Romero’s lower lip, tasting the lingering flavor of liquid heat. A mere taste alone sent a jolt through his system.

He sighed softly, contentedly, as he slowly pulled away. “Come on, my love.” He slipped carefully off the end of the bed, legs aching from kneeling on them so long. He could only imagine Romero’s plight when he finally stretched out his legs with a quiet hiss, taking Wyll’s hand to help him off the bed. “It’s about time we got cleaned up.”

Romero rested a hand at Wyll’s lower back as they walked together to the bathroom. Wyll’s arm wrapped around his waist, tucked under the open shirt hanging from his shoulders, and rubbing mindless circles into his hip.

Wyll jolted when Romero playfully pinched his butt. The bard had a wide, stupid grin on his face. “I love you!”

Romero laughed as Wyll playfully shoved him away, just hard enough to have him stumbling. There was a bright smile on his face. “I love you, too, you damned fool.”

---

Fun fact: The spell Healing Elixir is a 1st level Warlock spell, and it didn't have a verbal phrase from bg3 that I could find. Te curo is latin for "I cure you", so I just translated "Healing Elixir" into latin to get "sanitatem ius" :)

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casbeeminestiel · 2 years

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Day 3: Digital

Jack pops into Sam’s room abruptly, completely engrossed with the Nintendo Switch in his hands. Sam sits up with a yell, prompting Eileen to startle and smack him in the face with a sleepy hand. The kid seems to realize his manners a second too late and shoots a sheepish look at Sam.

“Jack, remember what I said about knocking?” Sam pinches the bridge of his nose, blearily checking the alarm clock on his nightstand to discover it’s 7:00 AM.

Eileen raises her tousled head from where it was soundly buried in her pillow, squinting at Jack and offering him a quickly signed hello before falling right back into the blankets. Sam can’t help the smile that grows on his face despite his exhaustion. They were up late last night scheming… among other things.

“Sorry! I meant to appear in the kitchen, but I was distracted by my game.” Sam wants to be mad, he really does. But Jack is a good one.

“Maybe uh, don’t fly and game at the same time, yeah?”

Jack nods firmly. He gets that from Cas, that same cruciality with which he takes to everything. Something as silly as this is treated with the same consideration that a life or death mission is.

“What made you so distracted anyways?” Sam thinks he might as well catch up with Jack since he’s certainly not catching up on sleep anymore. Eileen on the other hand- Sam absently brushes a stray hair out of his fiance’s face and envies her ability to return to her slumber so readily.

“Oh! Well, I’m playing Animal Crossing. See?” He tilts the screen around to show Sam. “I was just fishing in the game, and I found it very peaceful. Dean and I went fishing once, remember? Anyways, I went to his room first to show him, but he and C- he was sleeping, so I tried to go to the kitchen. But then I ended up here!”

Sam bites the inside of his cheek, knowing fully well that Cas ended up in Dean’s room last night. He wants to tell Jack that his secret is not as much of a secret as he thinks, but he decides to let it slide under the radar. He still wants to let Dean take his time with this one.

For now, he settles for asking Jack more questions about his game until Eileen wakes up again and asks what’s for breakfast.

The three of them make their way to the kitchen, Jack chattering away about his adventures for the past few weeks. He’s been making the rounds with Jody, Donna, and the girls as well as Amara and Rowena. When he’s not with them, he’s been doing cool stuff like spending a day under the ocean with a pod of dolphins (he rescued a calf from a fishing net and befriended the group) or bowling with a biker gang in Baton-Rouge (“Terri-May looks scary, Sam, but she actually is very nice”).

Sam doesn’t even pretend he isn’t fascinated by Jack’s adventures. The kid just seems to make friends wherever he goes. He has that effect on people, apparently. And the way he approaches life, all genuine curiosity and an undaunted kind of love for the bizarre, reminds Sam that this is what they fought for.

He lets Eileen take over some of the conversation as he makes pancakes and coffee for them, though he still listens and offers input every now and again. He watches the two sign back and forth in glances while he stirs the batter, mentally rattling off his breakdown of breakfast the whole time.

Pumpkin pancakes for Dean, Jack, and Eileen, and banana pancakes for me and Cas. Coffee, black for Dean and I. Two sugars for Eileen. Honey for Cas. Apple juice for Jack. Bacon for everyone but me, and an extra piece for Eileen. Fruit on the side for all of us.

Like clockwork, Dean and Cas wander into the kitchen as soon as he slides the last pancake onto a plate and spoons some sliced strawberries to the side.

“Mornin’ everybody.” Dean is more free of tension than Sam has seen him in years, loose-limbed and wrapped tightly in his beloved dead guy robe. He won’t think of the implications, but he does leave a mental note of gratitude for Cas, who looks as equally pleased with life this morning as Dean does. Their hands aren’t quite brushing, but it’s a close thing.

Cas spots Jack and makes a quick detour to hug him on his way around the table. Jack reciprocates instantly in an embrace that absolutely no one would mistake for anything other than a son hugging his father. If Sam catches Dean’s fond smile at the two of them, he doesn’t mention it.

“I missed you, Jack.”

“Missed you too.” Jack steps back and addresses Dean, “And I missed you.”

It takes all of two seconds for Dean to break. “Shit, bring it in, kiddo.”

Dean wraps his arms around Jack tight. Sam knows his brother has a complicated history with the kid, but he also knows his brother too well to think he doesn’t love Jack like family. Dean will spend the rest of his life making up for his past mistakes with the boy he considers his own. That determination to make things right is one of Dean’s best qualities.

The thought almost makes Sam forget about the corn maze retribution plan he’s hatching with Eileen.

Almost, but not quite.

He thinks about it some more as he eats his pancakes and enjoys the casual domesticity of their makeshift family, pretending he doesn’t know Cas has a hand on Dean’s thigh beneath the table. Turns over scenarios and logistics in his mind between bites of strawberry, drinks revenge in with his coffee.

Jack’s digital mishap this morning may have given him a wonderful, horrible idea.

Dean, he thinks, enjoy your peace and quiet now, man.

#suptober22 #castiel #dean winchester #deancas #sam winchester #eileen leahy #saileen #jack kline #duckposting

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barbiegirldream · 11 months

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Hi Sally, little info on the French streamers of the qsmp because I am French.

Antoine Daniel is extremely well known in France and one of the og youtuber. He is always careful that his communities are far removed from right-wing movements. He absolutely does not need the qsmp.

The big French streamers are very close with each other and with female streamers because they are used to organizing big charity events together that last for days (for example Zevent).

If Bahera tells them that she was treated badly by Q or his community, I can see them dropping the qsmp more and more because they don't want anything to do with this type of fans. I mainly follow Antoine Daniel and Baghera (on their French content) but they are very respected among other French creators. I have already seen them in front of fans like those of qsmp (always american) and they have always been very vocal about the fact that this is not how we should act but to encourage their French fans to stay very far away from that and respond like adults on the internet. They always end up moving away from these crazy communities so as not to contaminate theirs. It doesn't surprise me that Baghera is gone, I fear the others will to if she tells them something or if their streams start to be touched by q's weird fans.

(sad, I was excited to see them with the American creators that I like)

Anyway, that was the French pov info dump.

Also, I've never found frenchs to be bullied on the internet, at most it would be dumb shit by American and brits but we make fun of the Brits the same way. Hearing Hasan shit on the French is fun and literally no harm is done, why would some Americans qsmp fans be offended on our behalf, it's like making fun of the Spanish, where is the harm? Sure I prefer to be made fun of from the British(we have history), than from white American because their anti-French sentiment started from the French government refusing to follow America in their war in Iraq (which is one of the few things I'm proud of from this country ) and America starting a French-hate campaign because of it (fun thing when you think of it) but that's whatever. It's irritating when 15y old American cry about "the French being made fun of" bouhou, poor them, I'm gonna protect anyone not talking English on the internet because they soooo need it"

... like, girl, learn about history and choose your battles (T＿T)

Anyway sorry for the long ask, I'm just rambling in your inbox as usual, haha

Love ~^3^~

My anti French sentiments are because I’m from Maine and we have a long standing beef with Quebec I think (funniest Wikipedia screenshot I have is like anti French sentiments worldwide) but it’s all jokes I don’t actually have a personal grudge against anyone from anywhere I don’t think you are the country you’re born in or it’s history just hate when people play dumb to their history.

Very good info thank you ! I should probably try watching some French CCs it might help me brush up on my French skills. Another question if you don’t mind me asking is how many people in Paris are likely to speak English at Twitchcon ?

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goldkirk · 4 months

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Greetings!

1, 2, 3, 6, 8, 11, 14, 15, 25, 29, 52, 60, 63, 76, 95, 97 and 99?

P.S.: I read your tags, so thanks for the compliment! :-D

oh my god this is so many, you're a riot hahaha! thank you for sending this in!

Most favorite activity?

This is so hard. I love so many things. I guess my best effort to sum a lot of things up would be "hoarding and organizing information in my notebooks), a beloved pastime from about age six to now lol.

2. Least favorite one?

Either brushing my teeth or touching wet dirty sink dishes while needing to hand wash them or load a dishwasher.

3. One activity you really hate?

I've been trying to think of one but I'm drawing a blank. I guess cleaning dog poop out of my shoes after someone has left dog poop on the sidewalk or another walkway.

6. Do you have any idols?

Nah I don't go in for that these days. I definitely have some people I admire or look up to. Not to any level I'd say idols though.

8. Favorite music genre?

Dance! I love all types of genres but I listen most often to dance music.

11. Which kind of animal are you most afraid of?

Hmm. AFRAID of...jellyfish.

14. Do you think there’s a higher species than us humans?

Nah, at least not on our planet. But I don't think we're particularly high among all species, I think we're just particularly unique.

15. Do you believe in ghosts?

As a weird subjective phenomenon some of us experience in our lives? For sure. As "ghosts are the unfinished-business spirits of human dead people", no.

25. Can you dance? Is there any dance you want to learn someday?

Not well anymore, but I'm working on it. I was in love with ballet and wanted to do it forever. I'd like to get back into ballet classes, for adults this time. It's still the way my body most wants to dance. I took a ballroom dancing course for a hot minute. We were allowed to do swing dances when I was homeschooled, so I got pretty good at swing dance and some swing dance tricks.

29. Good memory from your childhood you keep remembering?

The first time I saw a snake in real life and it was a woman in public wearing a snake while walking down the street and she didn't get mad I was interested, she totally treated me like a Small Human Being and answered my questions and LET ME HOLD AND PLAY WITH IT MYSELF. I was like 7 and this was a core memory for me, much to the horror of my poor family members who were with me at the time when I dead-stopped us all in a state we didn't live in in a city we didn't know to talk to a strange woman and bond with her over a huge larger-than-adult-size-feather-boa-scarves snake lmao.

52. Do you think there are some breathing beings on earth contained behind ceilings or walking amongst us somehow with special abilities or powers? (as in most sci-fi and fantasy books, comics, movies)

Man this would be cool but unfortunately no lol

60. If you would have the money to donate what would you donate for?

Oh god I literally have a list about this! I'd donate all over the place, but the first few donations would definitely be to a few grassroots charities I care about and the all the local food pantries and education nonprofits that I can.

63. On your opinion, what should people do about climate change?

Force industry regulations, despite all the kicking and screaming the firms and their political-system lobby groups will throw at all of us about it.

Create a fast-moving national campaign of interconnected state and local ecosystem experts that can partner with local landowners all over their area and any municipalities they can convince to help to rewild as much land as possible with the actually-native plants. MOST PRIMARILY IN THE BREAD BASKET. The soil has GOT to be replenished, and the native grasses store at minimum roughly two times as much carbon underground than any of the cash crops or hay or weed grasses do.

Seriously invest right now, immediately, right away, in any adaptations your area will need to make in order to cope better with the changing and intensifying storms, floods, water level rises, droughts, wildfires, deep freezes, heat waves, etc., anything and everything that your area will for certain have eventually impact it.

End unethical overseas labor systems and the cobalt mining/electronics burning/etc. markets that exist because of the inequity and greed at every level and continual corruption not being overthrown.

Drastically reduce all western meat culture and industrial farming to the normal, sustainable levels of meat eating human families averaged until the very recent past.

Actually stop the driving forces behind systemic mistrust, conspiracy rabbit holes, and succeptibility to misinformation.

And do anything possible to slow tropical deforestation and invest in antibiotic research as fast and effectively as possible. We're already far behind the enemy because it hasn't been profitable to research antibiotics in the eyes of the pharmaceutical companies. With the climate and ecosystem shifts, we're going to have a wild ride with both insect bugs and bacteria bugs, I'm sure.

76. What’s the most romantic thing you ever have done for someone?

Oh man, I can't answer this one, I'm sorry. It's not that I wouldn't like to, I just don't know if I've ever tried to do something truly romantic, because I'm still not sure I understand what romantic most accurately means, so I'll have to get back to you on this one.

95. What’s something you really want to do some day with your/a partner?

I never thought about this until you asked it just now. I guess...maybe...............go overseas and explore some part of another country? My brain keeps giving me blanks, I don't know if it knows how to think about this yet. I'll keep working on it. But it does sound fun to go with a partner on a sort of few-places trip of random interest events or something.

97. Worst catchy song you ever heard?

"Blurred Lines".

99. Does it matter to you there is no 100th question in here?

Hahahaha! It does kind of bug me, not gonna lie, but I chose to embrace it as a rounder, artistic, more organic experience of the concept of an "ask game 100 questions list", like an art exhibit

Thank you for the questions!! Hope you're doing well! <3

#katie answers asks #younganonymus #ask games

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death-munchkin · 7 months

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Everyone should remember the story of the Radium Girls.

Haven't heard of it? Let me give you the short version. Early 1900s Radium has been discovered and the dangers of radioactivity was rapidly being discovered and understood as well. A handful of greedy men realize they can make radioactive paint that glows in the dark, and use it for (among other things) painting clock faces to make glow in the dark clocks. So, they start up 3 factories where radium gets ground into a powder and mixed into a paint solution called "undark". This process is done by men wearing thick lead lined aprons and gloves, not even allowed to touch the radium with their hands and instead instructed to handle it with tongs.

The paint then gets handed over to hundreds, thousands of women and girls, who are only told that they are hired to paint the clock faces on clocks and watches. These innocent, unsuspecting, uninformed women and girls as young as fifteen are instructed to paint with "undark". First, they are instructed to dip a fine tipped paint bush in water. Then, they are instructed to form the tip into a fine point with their lips, putting the still paint stained brush directly in their mouth. Then they are instructed to dip the brush in the paint, and paint a stroke. And then repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Hundreds of strokes a day. Thousands of strokes a week. Each time consuming a little bit more. And a little bit more.

Some time into production, they even take away the water, as to not "waste" any of the paint, because why not shave a few cents off production?

Some of the women worked there for mere days. Others months. Some for years.

All the while the company was fully aware of the theoretical risk posed to the women. All the while they never told them.

Eventually, when the women started getting sick and dying off one by one, the company blamed it on STIs, which I assume most of you are aware what stigma that implies.

And even when five brave women came together to sue their employer, now that they were ill and dying, the company tried to avoid responsibility by delaying the process month by month, year by year, hoping that the women would die before they could sue.

And finally, finally, when the women decided to settle out of court to see even a pittance of reimbursement before they inevitably die, the company blamed it on its (not direct quote) "Over abundance of kindness", saying it hired people who are "poor, sickly and (c-slur)" and that it's now that "kindness" coming back to bite it. This happened in the USA, less than 100 years ago.

This is why we should remember the radium girls. Not only because of how they were treated. Not only because of how they were killed for money and power. Not only because how their names were smeared even as they were suffering horrible ailments and death due to malpractice. But also because around the world similar things are happening every single day. Yes, in your country too. Everywhere there is a rich person, there is someone they're willing to destroy to stay that way and gain even more power.

The rich do not care about you. They do not care about your children. About your life, about your health. They only care about what you can give them with your blood and sweat and tears. They will put chemicals in your system which burns holes in your bones and eats away at your muscles if it saved them a penny on the dollar.

But please, continue to tell me how more money for Elon Musk means a better future for me.

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cleantelsposts · 2 years

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4 Simple Mattress Cleaning Hacks For Your Home In Dubai

One of the biggest necessities in a home in Dubai is a mattress as it plays an essential role in keeping you healthy, both mentally and physically. Given this fact, it would mean paying more attention to our home mattress like having regular cleaning sessions from a cleaning company in Sharjah. However, the reality is most people show their mattress very little love and never focus on scheduling periodic cleaning sessions by a cleaning company in Dubai.

The places we sleep on can be home to bed bugs, or dust mites among other things. And if it is a home in Sharjah that has pets who love cuddling with you in bed, chances are their hair and fur might be there somewhere in your mattress. Having all this information must have got you thinking about how you were able to sleep in your bed in the first place? Well most of us in our homes in Dubai take care of our sheets more than our mattresses. The recommended way to go is to wash mattresses as much as the sheets too.

We’ll take you through a few simple steps that you can do to take better care of your mattress at your Sharjah home.

1. Dust it out!

Simply put, remove everything on the bed, including sheets, pillows, even plushies and simply dust each item out. The idea is to avoid any more dust mites getting into everything. If any of your family members has a dust allergy, this must be done every few weeks or months or so.

2. Treat stains immediately

As we’ve already established, your mattress at home goes through a lot leading to stains. Some are not visible to the naked eye. If tackled properly preferably by a cleaning company in Sharjah, the less effort to erase.

3. Using a carpet cleaner

You can engage a company in Dubai’s assistance to handle your mattress cleaning requirements. But it is also possible to take care of it with an enzyme cleaner or enzyme-based pet-smell remover.

Lightly spray the solution and dab on the stain. Make sure to avoid over-wetting the mattress, that’s why it is ideal to partner with a cleaning company in Sharjah as there are experts in the business.

4. Removing stains

If you see a yellow cast on your mattress, it’s most likely due to a buildup of sweat and body oils. With time these stains can cause discoloration that can be either fixed by a cleaning company in Dubai or by using hydrogen peroxide and warm water. It has to be lightly sprayed, working it into the fabric with a soft brush, and make sure to let it sit for about 30 minutes. Spray again with water to rinse, blot well, and then leave it to dry.

It would be best if you have your mattresses cleaned regularly by a cleaning company in Sharjah, once at least every six months. And in the case of a stain, treat it immediately to avoid any discoloration that may happen.

Also, consider investing in a mattress cover to protect moisture from getting into the mattress and help prevent the growth of mold and mildew. Also, flipping your mattress once every three months is good too. Make sure to wash the sheets every week or give them to a cleaning service company to take care of them.

Apart from these few tips we’ve talked about above, hire a professional mattress cleaning company to service your mattress matters in Dubai.

Author Bio - I am Gaia, a cleanliness enthusiast and a lover of all things clean in the world. I love to experiment with cleaning tips and hacks to make things simple for me and my family. Additionally, I document those experiences for the benefit of the world at large.

To know more: https://www.cleantel.me/post/4-simple-mattress-cleaning-hacks-for-your-home-in-dubai

#cleaning company in Sharjah

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dany-is-my-queen · 3 years

Text

Born To Be Yours | Part Xl

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 1,375

Note: Hey guys!! It’s been a year since I started this series and I was really excited to continue, I really was. But months flew by and my life began to take a different course, now, I can’t make promises that I’ll be uploading soon again, though I will try if I have time to spare and my imagination cooperates :) Hope you enjoy this chapter! And thank you all for your patience, it’ll be rewarded!

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9 Pt.10

Months have flew by way too fast. And now you were feeling more confident around the northern lady and your family. You’d keep her from any harm they would try to inflict on her no matter the consequences, yet you were cautions cause Joffrey was still so damn annoying. Though since Margaery arrived to the capital she has been keeping him rather distracted.

“Because the truth is always either terrible or boring.”

“Am I boring?” You approached Sansa from behind, daintily kissing her cheek.

“Not at all.” She answered with a broad simper.

“You shouldn’t be too obvious in plain sight.” Shae subtly advised.

“You are right. We should be more careful.” You peered up to see if the guards were staring your way, when you confirmed they were not you stole a kiss on her silky lips. She giggled.

“Have a lovely day. I’ll meet you later. My grandfather requested my presence.” It was true... Tywin wanted to speak privately with you, and you sort of imagined why.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“My ladies.” You winked playfully at Sansa before walking away.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Shae asked Sansa well knowing the answer to her own question.

“She is perfect.” She let out a love sigh.

“You trust her?”

“The princess has always treated me with respect. I always dreamed with a handsome knight or a sweet prince, then I met her and she is far more better than any of that.” Sansa confessed.

“She seems to be a good girl.” Lord Baelish approached the two women.

“Lovely day for it. May I speak with lady Sansa alone for a moment?” Shae stood up and walked back to Ros.

“I saw your mother not long ago. She’s very eager to see you. And your sister.” He commented.

“Arya’s alive?”

“Oh yes. Indeed she is. But... I’ve noticed you’ve grown quite attached to princess Y/N.” He chose carefully his words.

“I have. She is and extraordinary friend.” Sansa added. “I’m very lucky to be her friend.”

“You are. I’m waiting for word on an assignment that will take me far away from the capital. When I set sail, I might be able to bring you with me. But you’d need to be ready to leave on a moment’s notice.” Sansa widen her eyes. She didn’t really want to leave now... did she? After all she knew she’ll never be truly free here.

“I... I’m not sure if that’s a wise idea, Lord Baelish.” She conflicted admitted.

“And why’s that? Other than the risks it involves of course.”

“Well, as I said before, King’s Landing is my home now. It has good things despite the corruption.” Only Y/N, she thought.

“All right then. The offer stands, my lady. Keep it in mind.” He turned around to leave Sansa wondering if she’d abandon you to return home or staying here by your side.

“You are glowing, granddaughter of mine.”

Tywin was jotting down something with a quill. “Is there a boy already?” It sounded more like a statement rather than a question. You tried not blush as Sansa’s picture coming to your mind.

“Mmm... no. There is not a... boy.” You concluded kinda nervous.

“If there is not then you should be looking for a suitable swain. I reckon you have many admirers waiting to receive your attention.” He said with a serious tone. Does he really mind? Of course he does. He wants to get a hold of another loyalty for House Lannister. “Many lords would give their whole lands to marry you. And we might need that.”

“But that’s not what I need.” You responded nonchalantly. It was true. All you truly needed and longed for was the love of someone who valued you. And you already found that in a northern lass. You knew he disapprove entirely your “reckless” choices, same as your mother. You’d fight back and won’t allow them to throw you into some random man’s arms.

You stepped inside Joffrey’s dining table. You always enjoyed to hang with the Tyrell siblings, but now that she’s engaged to your brother... you wonder how she’s been managing to handle him. After all, she’s one of the cleverest persons you know.

“Margaery does a great deal of work with the poor back in Hightgarden. I’ve heard Y/N do charity for the poor here as well.” Loras commented. You nodded. The soon to be queen smiled softly your way.

“The lowest among us are no different from the highest if you give them a chance and approach them with an open heart.” You mirrored her act.

“An open heart is what you’ll get in Flee Bottom if you’re not careful, my dear. Not long ago, we were attached by a mob there. We had a full complement of guards that didn’t stop them. The king barely escaped his life.” You hid your smirk.

“My mother’s always had a penchant for drama. Facts become less and less important to her as she grows older. Our lives were never truly in danger.” You rolled your eyes at his lies.

“Oh but they were. You didn’t even care about sending the guards to get lady Sansa back to the Keep. A king is supposed to ensure the safety of all the ones that are in need. You seem to keep failing on that, big brother.” You sensed his furious glare upon you.

“Who cares about her anyway.” You clenched your jaw tightly. Loras and Margaery keep their eyes on their dinner.

There was an awkward pause as the main course was brought to the table. The rest of the evening was all about the same. Joffrey flaunting about his “bravery” and Cersei flattering him all along. Margaery showing off a wide smile at his non sense.

~~~~~~

You strolled to your room exhausted after training with the bow and horse-riding with little Tommen. Before that you decided to pay a visit to Sansa’s chambers. You knocked the door twice and she beamed with delight.

“I hope it isn’t too late to stop by.”

“No, I was about to get under the sheets. Perhaps you can join me?” She suggested with a gaily grin. You chuckled. Seeing Sansa being so... awfully bold was so nice and pure. Being around you made her forget about the fact she’s a prisoner. It didn’t matter as much when you were together.

“I’d love that.” You entered the room, holding her by the waist and leading both of you to the bed.

“How was your day then?” You smoothly asked. She tossed to be face to face with you.

“Actually, it was wonderful! Ser Loras escorted me to the gardens with Lady Margaery and Lady Olenna. They were very kind to me. We had lunch together and chatted for a while.”

“That sounds lovely, my lady. I’ve always consider Lady Olenna as the grandmother I never had. She knows me since I was a baby. Now that they are here I’ve been reminiscing about the good old days when we wouldn’t stop joshing Loras about me beating him on a single duel. We were so young back then... I’ll always hold dear those moments. He may be moody and brash at times, still, he is complete gentleman. Water’s sometimes thicker than blood. That’s for sure.” The Tyrells were your second family, they welcomed you with open arms and never once judge you. Unlike your own blood, with exceptions of course.

“Back in Winterfell I was so focused on learning how to properly be a lady and all that, that I missed many things... I should’ve been closer to Robb, Arya, even Jon. I was mean.” Sansa’s voice cracked.

“Don’t lose faith, Sansa. I know it’s too much to ask for but life takes unexpected turns.” You brushed one of her ginger locks with your right hand.

“I found a new home.” She whispered lightly. “Not Kings Landing. Not this castle. You.” She unhurriedly closed her crystal eyes. Your heart was at her mercy, that was a fact. You caressed gently her cheek and sealed the night with the most tender kiss anyone could dream of.

“You are my home too, my love.” You breathed against her lips.

#game of thrones fic #got #sansa stark x reader #sansa x reader #sansa x fem baratheon reader #sansa stark imagine #dany x reader #daenerys x reader #daenerys targaryen x reader #game of thrones

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xsugarysweetsx · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 2k mama sweet,,,!! :))

Since there is no sk8 requests yet how about option 2 - Kaoru x reader <3 Had this thought after reading ur arranged marriage fic... how about at the start of the marriage reader thinks that Kaoru is cheating on her when he sneaks out at night but after he tells her about S, reader feels kinda silly for thinking so.. next thing you know Kaoru is taking reader to all the beefs as his lucky charm. Reader even has a matching costume and the others start calling her "Lady Cherry" or smth,, teaches reader to skate (she's lowkey jealous of carla >.<) + some domestic fluff (what if reader finds out she's pregnant....) This doesn't have to be connected to the other fic & you can ignore the cheating part if u like... :-*

A/N: :0 Lady Cherry is a super smart name!

other fic here

Please enjoy~🍰

*******************************************************

There he went again...

The sliding door of your shared room altered you from your sleep. This was the 6th night in a row that he left without a word in the middle of the night. The first 2 nights you thought he was simply tending to business and was just busy. After the 4th day, you were suspicious and a bit hurt. He did tell you he didn’t want to hurt you and treat you right....so where was he going?

This was another night he had gotten up, so instead of staying in bed you followed him.

“Carla, make sure to lock the doors when I leave“ he said to his AI

“Yes, master“ you scoffed. You had to admit the stupid computer got on your nerves. He practically loved talking to her and every time she answered him, he gets all giddy. You were really jealous but you wish he’d get that way with you.

Just as he was going to leave you called for him

“Kaoru?“ he froze and turned around “It’s late...“ you said coming closer to him. That’s when you noticed what he was wearing, he was in a sleeveless yukata with a black mask over his face, and a...skateboard?

“Y/N I...um...“ being that he can’t speak about S he was contemplating whether to tell you or not. But you were his wife and he wanted to be open with you on everything. However what you said next caught him off guard

“...if there’s someone else please just tell me...“ and the way you looked when you said it just broke his heart. Did you really think he was cheating? Even though this was arranged, he couldn’t ask for someone better to be his wife. You were smart, shy but bright, not to mention beautiful.

“Y/N“ he walked to you and rests his hand on your shoulder “I would never cheat on you and I assure you there is no one else.”

“Then why do you leave at night?“ you ask

“*Sigh*....I go skating.“ he said bluntly. There was nothing to hide from you and it was all true

“...huh“ he lifted his board for you to see

“Some friends and I go skateboarding in a secret location for races and such. We only go at night so we go unnoticed.“ he held up a small pin “It’s called S..now that you know you can’t tell anyone. Now go throw something on, we’re heading out.“

Just as he said you were heading out in the dead of night. And of course you had to ride on Carla, every time he spoke to her it was like he was talking to his crush. As you approach a gate with two guards he gives you a larger sticker of the letter ‘S’. You show them to security and make it inside where people had started screaming. You knew he was popular among women but this was more than you thought

“Lord Cherry!!” one screamed

“Kao-”

“Cherry” he interrupted

“What?”

Getting his bike to a stop he helps you off and says “we don’t use our real names here for security reasons. Here I’m Cherry blossom.”

So what he was telling you was true. You honestly felt a bit silly for jumping to conclusions so quickly. Before he was off to what he called a ‘beef’ he introduced you to JOE. You were surprised to see the popular chef here as well, although you knew they had been friends for years. The large screen in the area showed you just how goof he was at this.

He was fast but graceful, sharp an precise on corners. The crowd only cheered louder than before.

“So, you’re the one he’s been talking about huh?“ Joe asked

“He’s been...talking about me?“ you asked

He nodded “He was gone for like 3 days in a row not to mention he was brushing off more women now. That’s when he told us there was someone he wanted to be loyal to.” okay, now you felt really silly. After the race was done and over with Cherry had made his way back to you. He comes and embarrass you and whispers in your ear

“You brought me good luck.“ you felt your heart skip a beat from the feeling of being close to him

“oooo, look at Lord Cherry with his lady~“

“Shut up you big oaf!!“

During the next few months you had gone with him to almost every beef. You had even gained a name for yourself, ‘Lady Cherry’. You had become quite popular among some men there and even cherry’s female fans. He would usually bring you as his ‘lucky charm’, it was cheesy but sweet at the same time. They also had a habit of saying

“The Cherries have arrived“

On his free time he would actually taught you how to skate, well he tried anyway. Balance wasn’t exactly easy and being from a traditional family, this was unusual for you. You’d be holding on to his shoulders while his hands held your waist

“Don’t let me fall“

“You’re doing just fine dear. Why don’t we try some tricks“ he offered

“Are you sure you’re the man I married?“ you ask with a smirk

“The one and only dear“ he kissed your cheek

It was honestly so cute to him. You’d have a scared but excited look on your face. Your cheeks would turn pink and it just made his heart fluttered. On top of all that you were willing to indulge in something he has loved from a young age. He always took you with him to each beef he attended. Both for showing you off an he is in love with the idea of winning every race for not just himself but for you as well.

Although tonight you wouldn’t make it to the beef. He was going to race Joe but that was put on hold. You had been feeling sick all day and you just finished emptying your stomach. As much as you told him to go, he refused to leave.

“You’re my wife and you’re clearly not okay“ he said helping you up off the floor “you come before any beef or competition. Now come on, let’s get you to the hospital and get you checked out.“

A short drive to the general hospital was taken that night. No, he would not wait until tomorrow morning. He wanted to know that you were okay and didn’t have anything terminal. After speaking with the nurse and giving some blood and urine samples you both patiently waited. You leaned against him playing with the digits of his fingers.

*Knock knock* “Ma’am we have your results” the doctor says holding up a couple of papers and even some medicine. “well, you’re clear for any terminal conditions or diseases. although you have some hormonal imbalances and some new ones kicking in.”

“Meaning?“ Kaoru urged him on

“Congratulations, you’re 4 weeks pregnant.“

“....“ you both sat in shock at the news. You were pregnant? Well, you two were active, and maybe Kaoru has his own little rituals. Either after or before a beef he’d get frisky and was set on pleasing you both. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that this would have happened, still it was shocking news

“These are some prenatal vitamins you’ll need to take for the month. Make sure to make an appointment to check on the baby alright?” giving you the vile of pills he takes his leave leaving you both in silence. What were you supposed to say? How were you going to deal with this? Were you even ready?

“-together.“ you didn’t catch his whole sentence

“I’m sorry what was that?” you ask him

“We’ll this together alright?“ he took your hand in his “believe me I’m as shocked as you are but, we’ll figure this out together okay?“

“Alright“ you smile back

“We should probably start with a bigger house for the three of us“

“Kaoru, come on it’s just paint I can-“

“You are not moving a muscle“ he cut you off “I want you to rest all you can. You’re making a baby and that’s enough.“

To say he was strict during your pregnancy was an understatement. As soon as your belly started showing you were no longer going to beefs with him. You were currently 6 months along, and expecting a girl! Kaoru was over the moon to know it was a girl. he would have been happy with a boy too, but a little copy of you was like a dream. He couldn't wait to see the little girl that would look like you and act like him.

Today was nursery day, which meant painting, building and organizing. Kaoru had you only fold and organizing the clothes and things while he painted. Of course being your idea you had called the boys over to help. Joe was building some stuff along with Shadow. Langa and Reki were actually helping to paint the walls.

“I appreciate you guys coming to help“ you smile

“Hey it’s no problem, at least you told us about it“ Joe commented. Oh yeah, he also wanted to keep it a secret so that

‘the idiot wouldn’t ruin your pregnancy‘ which made you laugh for a good 5 minutes. But they were very good help and made the process easier

“Hey so what are you naming the baby?“ Reki asked

“Well, Kaoru kind of wanted to associate it with his skate name so we agreed on Sakura.“

“AAWWHH“ everyone said out load slightly teasing him. Without turning from the wall he said

“....I just wanted a beautiful name for her was all.“ although he was cold at times they knew he meant well especially for his family. A while late Joe made a small dinner for you all to enjoy. You thanked them for coming over and you were done for the night. You were putting on some lotion over your rounded middle when Kaoru came behind you. He wrapped his arms around and over your own hands and rested there for a moment

“Who would have thought we’d be here huh?” You whisper

“In all honesty I was hoping for it” he admired “before we married you were described as a caring and sweet woman. But you were so much more once we were married. You’re compassionate, intelligent, stubborn, beautiful, and absolutely perfect” he said kissing the side of your head “and now, you’ve given me the gift of being a father. Thank you”

Turning in his hold you wipe away small tears “oh Kaoru , thank you too. You’ve treated me like I’m the only person you need. On top of that you take care of me but still give me my freedom. I love you..”

“And I love you” he rests his forehead against yours as his fingers trace over your baby bump.

*******************************************************

I hope this was okay!❤️

#kaoru sakurayashiki x reader #kaoru sakurayashiki #cherry blossom x reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 the infinity #sk8 cherry blossom #cherry blossom #sk8 the infinity fanfic #sk8 fanfic #sk8 x reader #sk8 kaoru #anime #anime x reader #arranged marriage au #sk8 the infinity fluff #anime fanfiction #fanfiction #sk8 the infinity pregnant

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry XIV

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, thoughts of self-harm and suicide, depression, some triggers might not be fully tagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: It’s the final day of the tournament and all are holding their breath to see who prevails.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The arena was buoyant on the final day of the tournament. The most awaited event, the joust, was finally come. As Lord Barnes would once more be among the competitors, you were left on your own in the box with the rest of the ladies and their queen. Most of the noblemen were listed for the sport, Barnes, Rogers, Stark, and even the king.

You didn’t watch as the names were announced and the banners presented before the games commenced. Your attention wasn’t even drawn as the first clashed with their blunted staffs and galloping horses. It was much more perilous than the other contests.

You stayed away from the other women. You were not interested in humouring the queen’s false kindness nor were you interested in their chatter of things that hardly mattered to you. Sewing, birthing, loving; you didn’t care for any of it. You didn’t care for them or the men on the field. You cared for nothing in this bleak world.

As Barnes took to the saddle for his first opponent, you glanced down lazily but found your eyes drawn to clouds instead. It was bitterly cold under the grey sky, streaked with umbrous and ominous wisps. It would likely snow soon as if to mark the grand finale.

You tucked your hands into your sleeves and hugged yourself alone on the bench. You were drawn from your glowering by the rustle of skirts. The queen sat beside you and let out an airy sigh.

“Thankfully, my brother has kept clear of conflict,” she said, “in fact, he’s hardly spared another snarl for the visiting Baron.”

“Your majesty,” you muttered as the flag was waved and the horses barrelled at each other and the men pointed their long poles.

“Unless you count this,” she mused as his pole broke off the armour of the other men and sent his adversary sprawling and the other horse whinnying in a panic. You lowered your eyes meekly. “He will be eager to be away and I do hope you aid him in a speedy departure. The baron is expected to remain in the capital for the winter.”

“Yes, he is want to be gone back to the castle,” you assured her.

“It would be tragic if you were to be snowed in here. Very inconvenient and costly at that.”

“Certainly, your majesty,” you said flatly.

“You understand the urgency that will follow in the coming days,” she intoned.

“I understand but you do seem to misunderstand your brother. To think that I have any hold over him is farcical. He does as he pleases. He is a duke, I am a displaced chambermaid. That is all it is… your majesty.”

“You do not speak as a chambermaid,” she replied sharply, “my brother favours you but he still cannot overrule me, understood?”

“Your majesty, I understand my place completely,” you ceded, “would I be remiss to excuse myself?”

“For what means?”

“To find a commode,” you answered, “these game do carry on and I am distracted by my humanly needs.”

“Go off then,” she stood, “you are rather dour today. You would cast a mood over us all if you languish thus.”

“Your majesty,” you rose and made your way to the doors as she rejoined her ladies and gave a forced giggle as they welcomed her. You wondered how the nobles were trained so well in lies. Was it in their books or did their tutors include it in their curricula?

You descended the stairs without aim. You had no need of the commode, only an excuse. You stepped out into the lower stands and peered out at the field. In that moment, you could be gone. You could disappear and be away from all this misery.

You scoffed at yourself and leaned against the wooden planks. He’d find you again. You couldn’t make it far enough before he sniffed you out again. You weren’t stupid enough to try it twice, even at such an opportune moment. You would only earn yourself further punishment.

“Is something amusing, my lady?” you stood straight and looked startled to the man who emerged from the shadows of the stairway. Lord Zemo smirked and came to stand arm to arm with you as he looked out across the stadium.

“My lord, I was only watching the field,” you lied, “thinking.”

“Ah, yes, these games, how violent,” he remarked, “where I am from, we have festivals before tournaments. Singing, dancing, poetry, theatre… I suppose that is just as silly as all this.”

“It is… a privilege to be able to afford silliness,” you said, “to not be the one cleaning up after all of it and yet… so very pointless.”

He nodded and grumbled as he considered your words, “very true. Wise, even. I think that after one has seen how grave things can be, these affairs become less and less entertaining. It is almost sickening to think of them, let alone attend them. Why should men play at war as if it were fun?”

You peeked over at him. He was here because he once fought those men down on the field with real steel and armour. It was rather grim to think of. “I did not think of it like that but I suppose you are right. I know little of war, however, my lord.”

“You know of pain, though,” he said, “it is painted on you as much as those battle scars carried by veterans like your beloved Barnes.”

You were silent. You stared up at the sky again, the endless grey, the half-finished canvas.

“Beloved? Perhaps that is the wrong word for him. I see little affection there. I sense it is not an arrangement you asked for.”

“Does it matter if it is?” you shook your head, “My lord, you waste your breath on little more than a servant. I suffer Lord Barnes the same as any, I am no help to you.”

“Help? I have no desire to change my standing with Barnes, I am not so foolish as that,” he turned to face you, “Have none ever taken interest in you as your own being?”

“I am a servant. I am not my own being,” you murmured, “my lord, if you would, I should return to my party.”

“As you will,” he said dolefully, “it was a pleasure to meet again.”

“Was it?” you asked as you turned to go.

“It is always a relief to speak of anything but politics or gold,” he said, “and yes, you served me well in this conversation. As you said, that is all you are worth.”

You left him but didn’t ascend back to the box. You continued down the steps until you reached the final landing. You looked up and sat on the lowest stair. A moment of peace before you had to go back. To not think for a single second.

🏰

You listened to the raucous voices of the audience. You didn’t want to move from that spot. You didn’t want to go back to it all. You just wanted to stay on that step forever. But you knew you had to go. You knew you had to get up.

You lifted yourself wearily but your foot only hovered above the bottom stair. You heard more voices, and an angry one as the crowd bang and buzzed. You followed the lower sounds, the singular conversations yelled through the din. You ventured down the tunnel that led beneath the stands.

Horse kicked and snorted as you came into the area meant for competitors. Men sat and stood with blood on brow and lip. Those who’d already lost, many as the final face-off was about to commence. You looked around but did not see Lord Barnes. Perhaps he was on the other side or even looking for you.

You walked the perimeter of the large space and a familiar face caught your eye. Peter rubbed his shoulder as he muttered, his aunt and uncle sat with him as the former checked the cut on his chin. You felt the same stabbing in your chest as the night before. Before you could think, you were marching towards him.

You skidded to a halt before him and gulped. You didn’t know what to say, you only knew how you felt. He looked over at you as May and Benjamin followed his gaze. You wavered and blinked away the tears that threatened.

“I did want to be friends but I stayed away to protect you, Peter,” you said, “did you have to be so cruel?”

“What? I--” he stood and winced as he jarred his shoulder, “I didn’t-- I wasn’t--”

“I know what I am and I know we cannot be friends but could it have hurt to let me think ‘what if’?” You quivered.

“No, my lady, I--”

“You know I’m not a lady. No need to treat me like one now. I heard you last night. I didn’t come to change your mind, I’m not so simple as that. I only came-- well, I don’t know why, but perhaps I only wanted to say to one person how they hurt me. Perhaps I wanted to just once be able to speak my part and that I can do because I know I will never see you again.”

You brushed past him and he reached for your arm as he stammered, “please, don’t, I was l--”

“Don’t,” you shrugged him off and stomped on as the figures around you blurred and the anger and despair swelled in your head.

You followed the noise of the crowd. They were hungry for blood. If that was what they wanted, they would have it.

You pushed out from behind the curtain and the wood and dirt vibrated from the cacophony. You saw Lord Barnes in his saddle as he was handed his pole and his competitor, Lord Rogers, as he took his own. Their attendants checked the horse and took them to their marks.

You quaked as the ocean of voice rolled over you and you crept out along the wall. All were entranced by the two dukes as they readied for their signal. Barnes silver armour was dented and dinged from his former bouts and Rogers golden armour was just as scuffed. The two men steadied their steeds and the crowd fell into a hush of anticipation.

The red cloth dropped and the riders galloped at each other across the field. The hooves dusted up the cold dirt, through blood stains left throughout the day, and the crash that came sent up another cheer through the crowd.

Wooden slivers exploded around Barnes and Rogers was pushed back against his horse as his own shield was deflected. Both men kept astride and righted themselves as they rode back to their posts and again, their liveried attendants approached to calm their horses and fix their dressings.

They would go again and again, until one of them was tossed from their saddle or worse. You began to breathe heavily as you paced along the wall and the lords were handed new shields. You readied and watched the man in gray lift the rag. You began to run before it was even visible to the crowd.

You heard the horses barreling at each other as you did the same. You closed your eyes as you got closer to the lanes and you tossed back your arms as you threw yourself forward. A heavy and hard force hit you and several crushing blows landed across your body as the horse trampled over you and overturned.

You croaked as you were left in the dirt. The eerie silence that followed was void of the bouncing excitement. It was broken only by the screaming of the injured horse and the confused voices of those on the field. You heard that familiar deep groan, of pain, not delight this time.

You rasped and gasped as your chest ached and your bones throbbed. Your limbs were filled with sand and your head pounding. There were shadows all around you as you wheezed and you smiled as you tasted blood on your tongue. You began to laugh as your eyelids drooped and blacked out the arena.

“Don’t move her!” A voice called as someone touched your arm. It was broken, you were sure of it. It didn’t matter, they couldn’t fix you. Not your arm, none of it.

You laughed louder and louder as you heard more footsteps. It was all so funny. You were free! Your eyes rolled back and your mind flickered. Just before the flame gave its last lick, you heard his voice. The gravity of it gave you peace.

“Is she alive? Is she alive!? Help her! Help her!”

Lord Barnes could demand as he did for all he had but in this, he could not be mollified.

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wlw-multi-fandom-imagines · 3 years

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Hey, may i ask for a little scenario where Cheryl blossom falls for a new Femreader student who's a pro kick boxer and can kicke asses (but at first sight she doesn't seem like it) when reader intervens on day when Cheryl Veronica and Betty start an argument with some guys from the sport team who are quite violente. Thank you !

Before she signed you up for your first lesson, your mother had very solemnly laid out a few ground rules regarding your year-long campaign start kickboxing.

1. No hanging out after hours at the gym

You were only 14 at the time, but your mom wasn’t naive and she noticed the intensity in your gaze as you’d pass the gym and the way your face reddened as you stammered out a few words to the older girls standing out front when they asked if you were interested (in kickboxing, of course). If she was going to pay for lessons, you’d better be focused on your trainer and not securing a hookup for later.

2. No hiding injuries

You had hated going to the doctor since childhood, and it became apparent early on that you would go to great lengths to avoid doing so. From denying fevers to the time you had hidden two broken toes for a week, you always made every effort to mend yourself up before revealing anything was wrong. If you were going to fight, you had to be honest and suck it up enough to see a doctor if you needed to.

3. No fights outside the ring.

That one had been hard to stick to at times. Though not violent by any means, you were quick-tempered and needed to get a handle on it if you were going to get “punching lessons”.

You had agreed to all of these rules, to your mother’s subtle surprise, and had been in the gym every afternoon after school since. And, to her immense relief, you didn’t allow the other women at the gym to distract you. It was easier than you had initially thought, especially considering most of them were hot-headed and honestly a little too similar to yourself to consider dating.

Cheryl, on the other hand...Cheryl got you wrapped around her finger within weeks of your arrival to Riverdale. Your official tour guide to the new school, Betty, had introduced the two of you during your lunch period. One look at the subtle flex of your muscles beneath the shirt you were wearing was enough to catch her attention, and the game was on.

--------------------------------------------------

“Hey, your girl and her little friends are starting a fight.”

You looked up from your phone, frowning in confusion at the unfamiliar person in front of you. You hadn’t cared to get to know many others at the school once settling in with Cheryl and her friend group, but judging by the sweatshirt, this was clearly the girlfriend of one of the lacrosse players.

“What?”

“Cheryl, Betty, and Veronica are in the parking lot with some of the football-”

You didn’t bother staying to hear the rest, opting instead to zip up your backpack and sling it over your shoulder. Standing up quickly, you brushed past a few fellow students just arriving in the student lounge and high-tailed it towards the front entrance.

As you neared the doors, you saw a small crowd gathering near the parking spots that were unofficially reserved for the football players (aka: if you parked there and weren’t on the team, your tires were going to be deflated by lunch) and quickened your pace.

“You seriously don’t have anything better to do than fake an insurance claim against a sophomore?”

Veronica’s voice was the first one that you could make out clearly as you pushed your way through the spectators. A knot tightened in your stomach as you finally broke into the center of the crowd and spotted her, Betty, and Cherly at a standoff with five douchebags in letterman jackets. You glanced around the sea of unfamiliar faces, hoping to spot Archie or hell, even Jughead.

Nope. You were the only reinforcement so far.

“Look, the little freak clearly came whipping into the parking lot way too fast and smashed into me and I have a few witnesses here that will back me up.”

“As if. You literally almost ran Jughead and me over the other morning,” Betty pipes up.

“And for someone always flexing Daddy’s money, you’d think you’d be able to afford to get a little scratch fixed. Actually, I bet your Daddy would just love to hear all about this and all about that time two summers ago when you-”

“Shut the fuck up, you bitch.”

The Lead Douchebag lunged forward, a sudden surge of anger and panic replacing the smug features that had painted his face before Cheryl began her remark. Whatever happened two summers ago was clearly something he intended to take to his grave, and she had struck a nerve in the same way that watching him rush her like that struck a nerve with you.

“Oh!”

The crowd reacted to your swift punch with one unified sound of surprise and teenage exhilaration, but the ringing in your ears drowned out any further responses over the next few minutes. Five against one wasn’t a fair match by a long shot and you took quite a few blows, but the football players didn’t have the form or the stamina that you had. So, when you landed a solid hit to the face or a kick to the leg, it gave you enough time to move on to the next opponent.

The scene soon descended into chaos, with more students arriving to add to the jeering, screaming sea of onlookers desperately trying to record every second of action on their phones. Eventually, Archie and Jughead were among them and turned it into a 3v5 before a few administrators caught wind and rushed outside to break things up.

---------------------------------------------------------

“My mom is gonna be so pissed.”

Cheryl’s head tilted to the side, expression soft and filled with subtle adoration as you pressed an icepack to your cheek and slumped against the back of the bench outside of the principal’s office. Apart from your face, your left side and your knuckles are really the only things that hurt much right now.

“No she won’t; Principal Honey isn’t even calling home and we aren’t in trouble.”

“Yeah, but this will bruise,” you said, shifting the ice, “and I’m not great at lying to her.”

“God, your healthy relationship with your mother is constantly both surprising and refreshing.” The redhead reached over to squeeze your leg and you looked away, a little bashful at how she always teased you over the difference in parenting styles your mothers had utilized. “But is it really that big of a deal? Surely she has to be used to this kind of thing by now.”

“Not exactly. I’ve never actually been in a fight outside of, you know, the scheduled ones...” you admitted, once again feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Cheryl looked surprised and like she didn’t fully believe your statement.

“Never? And here I thought you spent your days before Riverdale saving many a damsel in distress.”

“Nope.”

“Well today you saved three, since I’m deciding to count Betty and Veronica as my fellow damsels. And to say thank you, we’re treating you to dinner at Pop’s and then drinks and a little performance in the speakeasy.”

You arched an eyebrow, then grimaced at the flash of pain in your face.

“Performance?”

“Just something we’re throwing together,” Cheryl winked mischeviously and just like that, any lingering concerns about your mother’s reaction to this disappeared.

#cheryl blossom #Cheryl blossom imagine #cheryl blossom x reader #wlw imagines #wlw imagine #riverdale #riverdale imagine #riverdale x reader

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