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#i don't want to be a man and i don't want to be a woman. i'm not a man and i'm not a woman.
conflictofthemind · 2 days
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Thoughts on "Escape from Camazotz"
Oppressive Suburbia, Conformity, and Season 5 Themes
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I've long thought that a major focus of Season 5 will be the contrast between the families of The Wheelers and The Byers, and exploring how non-traditional family environments can be freeing vs the oppressive structure of the nuclear family.
In a Wrinkle In Time, Camazotz is a planet controlled by the big bad of the book, the "IT", who forces the citizens into a conformity that resembles American suburbia. All of the houses the same, the citizens the same, doing the same things at the same time without individual identity. Without anything different. Different means a lot of things, but with Stranger Things dropping different in reference to Will's identity and the presumable themes of this season, it will heavily codify as queerness and how it threatens the cisheterosexual family model.
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Henry was raised in the 1950s, a decade still revered by conservatives for it's traditional family dynamics that supposedly were the peak of culture and happiness for all. That was all a lie, of course, and Henry knew so as he shows to Nancy and Eleven during his monologue. The second most conservative decade aside from the 1950s in American society is widely considered to be the 1980s.
The Creels will serve in parallel to The Wheelers; the worst example of what they could become and the damage that this type of family could do to a child that is different in any way. Notice how Vecna selectively shows Nancy visions of The Wheelers dying, but not anyone else she may consider family or friends (like Jonathan).
That is; unless they change their ways and come together as a healthy functioning family facing their traumas, The Wheelers will be toast.
Karen has been moved up to a main character role this season. Ted's actor says the father starts to show up more for Holly (hold that) and realizes he wants to act differently. Holly has been recast. Finn has said Mike goes on a much more personal journey this season, and steps up as a leader.
Oh, also: the catalyst for all of this is that Holly goes missing. The contrast will help show how the Byers (including El and Hopper here) were able to pull together and help solve Will's disappearance, versus how the Wheelers as a closed off nuclear family grapple with Holly's vanishing.
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Each of the Byers is in some kind of a non-1950s conformist relationship, but particularly Will (not in one now but we all know he will be). I think El might represent, after she breaks up with Mike, the fear of the unmarried woman being satisfied without a husband. The above shot really emphasizes my point.
I predict that Will will end up coming out to his family rather early on, and we will see all of them immediately accept him with little surprise or push-back. Will is a visible gay man who comes from an open minded non traditional family (divorced, non-married, adoptive) that is willing to have honest conversations.
But this theme will place the most focus on the Wheelers. Mike is the main character of said family and this will particularly focus on his arc, and his acceptance of his queerness in the midst of suburban conformity.
He is not visible, he comes from a Reagan-supporting family who don't communicate with each other. He is not particularly close with his family like Will is. He pushes his feelings down and tries his damn hardest to be normal despite it all. His trauma hasn't really been addressed at all. He is falling back into his usual habits - the one thing he dared to do different (grow his hair long) has gone back to how it was.
It's not all doom and gloom though. This season above all will be a redemption arc of the American nuclear family, how they choose to escape their conformity and learn to be there for each other, thus overpowering Vecna. Not that the Wheelers are going to end this personally.
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"Great, more hysteria. Just what we need". "It's the news, now indistinguishable from the tabloids".
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slayfics · 3 days
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heyyy i love you’re writing!! i’ve been listening to so much nessa barrett lately and her one song “lie” made me really want to read like a bakugou x reader story line of the song i feel like you’re writing would work well with it 🥹🥹
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You see Katsuki on tv. Warnings: angst 600 words
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You watched as bubbles crackled in your now almost empty drink, the ice collapsing into itself. Lime soaked and slowly disintegrated in the liquid.
"Another one sweetheart?" The bartender asks, bringing you out of your daydream.
You nod with a faint smile, it's the biggest smile you can gather up. The bartender gets working on your drink, feeling obligated to make small talk he looks up at you again, "You here alone?" he asks, pouring a shot into a new glass.
It's a simple question. It shouldn't send you spiraling, but it does.
"Yeah," you reply shortly.
He tops the drink off with soda water and lime and slides it over to your side of the bar, "Well I'm sure that's by choice," he says giving you a courteous wink and nod.
You can't help but scoff. Of course, it's not by choice. There is someone you want to be here with.
Then as if your thoughts willed it so, breaking news broadcasts on the screen interrupting the mundane sitcom. "Pro hero Dynamite at work to subdue a villain," the live feed reads.
You can't stop the way your pupils dilate, and your fingers tighten around your glass.
The helicopter filming the scene struggles to keep up with his movements, but there he is exploding through the city effortlessly giving the villain the fight of their life.
Cops attempt to keep pedestrians at bay, but the crowd is excited to see Dynamite working in action. The group of onlookers only grows as more pull out their phones to record.
He's so famous now.
It happened overnight.
One moment it was just you and Katsuki, and now, he's a pro hero known all over.
He's not Katsuki or Kacchan anymore, he's Dynamite, and everywhere you turned people wanted to take him away from you.
And it worked?
You hadn't heard from Katsuki in over a month. Texts left on read, memes left without even an emoji.
He's busy, you told yourself. Being a pro hero was taking a lot out of him. You couldn't expect much, you had to be supportive. Yet, you couldn't shake the lingering thoughts that grew as more time passed with dead air between you two.
Had he met someone else?
Bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip, you realized your hands had begun to shake.
As famous as he was now, he had come across many new faces. Fancy galas and expensive dinner parties. Who were you to complete anymore? A small-town friend left long in the shadowed past of his new bright and shiny life.
No. Surely, he respects you enough to have let you know, right?
He's just busy.
Katsuki lets out an explosion bringing the villain down. The scene erupts into cheers. You watch eyes glued to the screen; Katsuki shoves his mask up to his forehead wiping the sweat off his face. Reporters rush to try and get lucky enough to speak to him.
Then it happens.
The universe-altering moment.
It happens fast but you see it in slow motion, every second more painful than the next.
The epitome of a beautiful woman breaks through the crowd, to run and wrap her arms around his neck. Pushing up to her tip toes to press a passionate kiss to his cheek, and he doesn't pull away. He smiles.
A guttural scream that you don't recognize as your own escapes you. Glass flies out of your hand shattering the bar TV.
Whoever she is please, let it be a lie.
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Oh man- this song did a number on me. It’s so painfully beautiful. I hope this fic was somewhat what you had in mind. It’s what came out when I sat down to type so I hope you enjoy! Thank you for this request, I missed writing some angst.
sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @renwei @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @that-one-fangirl69 @pinkpurpledreams
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wholoveseggs · 3 days
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girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻
Forever
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.
♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡
6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡
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Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.
Well, that's what you wanted to believe.
There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.
He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.
You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.
He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.
He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.
Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.
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You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.
Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.
You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.
He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.
"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"
"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.
"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.
"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.
Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"
"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."
Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."
You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.
While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.
"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."
He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.
You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.
"Let's light her up!" you announced.
The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.
"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.
You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.
You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.
The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.
You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."
"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.
"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.
You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.
Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.
Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"
"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.
"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."
Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.
"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"
"Okay!"
The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.
You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.
"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."
"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.
"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."
"Oh?"
"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."
You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.
Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.
He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.
His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.
He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.
His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.
You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.
"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"
Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.
He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."
"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.
You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.
"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.
You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.
As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.
You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?
No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.
Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.
It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.
He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 
Just too good to be true.
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Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.
"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.
"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.
Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."
"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.
"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.
"No," Elijah stated simply.
"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.
"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"
"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.
"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.
"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."
"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."
"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."
"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.
"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"
Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"
"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."
Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.
"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."
"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."
Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.
"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"
Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.
"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."
"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.
She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.
Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?
He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.
"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.
"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."
"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."
"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."
"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."
You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.
He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.
But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.
Because if you were gone, so was he.
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You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.
He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.
"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.
"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.
"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.
"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."
"That's putting it lightly."
You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.
"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.
"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."
"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.
"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.
"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.
"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.
"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.
"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.
"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."
Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."
"And Elijah?" you asked.
Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."
"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."
You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.
Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.
We need to talk.
You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.
Tomorrow.
You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.
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The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.
Elijah had texted you back.
Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.
You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.
Why are you sending a car?
A response came instantly.
It's a surprise.
You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.
Fine, give me 10 minutes.
Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.
You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.
Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning," you replied.
He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.
"What?" you asked.
"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."
You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."
"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.
You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"
"The airport," he replied.
"What? Why?" You were completely confused.
"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."
"Where are we going?"
"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.
"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.
"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.
"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."
"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."
He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.
You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.
As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.
"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.
"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."
You looked up at him and kissed him softly.
"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."
"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.
The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.
Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.
"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you yawned.
You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.
"Welcome to Positano," he said.
"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's magical," you gushed.
"Yes, it is."
The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.
You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.
The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.
The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.
"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.
"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.
Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.
You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.
You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.
"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.
"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.
"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."
"Eli-"
"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."
You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.
The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.
"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.
"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.
"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.
"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.
"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."
You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.
"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.
"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"
"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.
He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.
"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."
"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."
He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.
You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.
"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."
"I like the sound of that," you moaned.
"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.
His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.
You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.
"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.
He set you on your feet and turned the water on.
"We are covered in sand," he grinned.
The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.
The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.
He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.
"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.
You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.
"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.
Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.
But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.
"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.
He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.
You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.
He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.
"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.
His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.
"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.
"All of it," you said.
"Right here, up against the shower wall?"
"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.
He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.
He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.
He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.
"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.
"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.
He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.
His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.
Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.
He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.
Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.
He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.
"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.
"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.
"Not long enough," he smirked.
He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.
He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.
"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.
"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.
He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.
"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.
His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.
"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.
He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.
You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.
You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.
You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.
He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.
"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.
"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.
"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.
"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.
"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.
"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.
"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."
"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."
The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.
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The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.
There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.
When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.
"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.
"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.
"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"
"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.
"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.
"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.
"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.
Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.
"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.
"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.
Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.
"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."
The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.
"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.
You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."
"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.
"Will you be my flower girl?"
She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"
You laughed and hugged her back.
Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.
You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.
"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.
"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.
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euniexenoblade · 17 hours
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Not to harp on about the "would you tell your friend they could be a trans woman" poll more but another result of it we saw that I don't think has been mentioned as much is how bio essentialist ideals are really prominent in those transandrophobia/transmisandry/"everyone is affected by transmisogyny" groups. Trans women consistently got hit with "I wonder why afab people would be afraid to tell a cis man he's acting like a woman" from transmascs and it's like 1) it's declaring that men are inherently violent, a talking point you'd think these people who are so anti misandry wouldn't want to support 2) it's grouping cis women with transmascs and vice versa, the implication is trans women are violent "cis men" before coming out and 3) the hard push for that friend definitely being a cis man, as if that's how gender works. If that friend is someone you consider a friend and think might be a trans woman (again this is the premise of the poll, it's not random cis men in the wild) why are you pushing so hard they're a cis man. It feels like you're deciding their gender for them, not the people saying "hey transfems do this."
It's just very clear these groups have foundational terf talking points. All men (read: trans women) are inherently bad and inherently violent and you can never try to tell someone they can choose to get a woman.
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starzshopoflove · 2 days
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Who's your daddy? (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)
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Notes: fem reader! sfw mostly ,literally just me projecting onto the reader, reader is kind of a pervert drabble! This will be multi part if you guys want!! (WC:550)
Simon does his best to be as involved in his son's life while off deployment, with the little guy living with his uncle Soaps mom and sisters while his dads gone. It's always the little things he wishes his dad did when he was younger. His worst fear is being anything like his own father 
This man is literally superdad, present at every PTA meeting he can be, makes cupcakes for the class on his son's birthday, every little league game, pick up and drop off, anything and everything he can do he will 
His son will babble mindlessly about anything because well,, he's 4 that's what children do. So Simon doesn't process much of it as actual information, more like vague “hms” “that's nice' ' and “ah oh really?”. Now when his son started to repeatedly bring up this “Miss” Simon assumed that he’s made a friend at school which made him pretty happy since he never had many when he was younger. It sounded dumb but he just assumed Miss was short for Missy or whatever kid name  
Casual asks of “How was school” being met with his boy saying “Miss gave me a sticker today” or “Miss made cookies today”. So you can imagine his surprise when he saw a random woman in the most lung collapsing sundress and cardigan holding his son looked at him and smiled while his son just waved and cheered. 
Simon is guilty of occasionally being late for pick ups but usually his boy is inside safe in the lobby so seeing you holding him would be more stressful if he wasn't a tank of a man that could maim an entire army single handedly, especially when you were literally basking in sunlight holding his child in a flowy pink floral sundress with a crochet cardigan, I mean seriously don't you know its a crime to stop traffic 
“Hi! Hi daddy! Miss waited with me for you, see!” Handing off the little guy to his dad you were also choking up, you became a teacher to help children learn not to ogle at their dads, but my god did it make up for your criminally low salary. The sight of a giant man in those loose worn out jeans, that tight white shirt stretched over his muscles bulging out of the fabric, and those eyes that look like they could melt you.
You could already feel the blush creeping off your neck and honestly you prayed to god with all your might that you could run back into your car, turn the AC on blast and fan whatever blush was on your face off. “You must be Mister Riley right? Hunter is a pleasure to have in class” You know what else would be a pleasure? Your di-
“Im sure he is” Oh fuck that accent you could practically feel your knees buckling just imagine how much better it would sound saying “You’re alright girl” all deep and gravelly while hes nibbling on your ear 
Needless to say Simon started showing up to pickups more often and you slowly started wearing shorter sundresses.
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dayasusays · 2 days
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could you write a degradation dirty talk type bruce!! i imagine him to have the BEST dirty talk
oh, anon, he has the best dirty talk.
bruce is experienced, mature and i can tell he knows how to treat a woman.
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warnings ! — SMUT, headcanons, fem!reader, husband!bruce wayne, dirty talk, cunnilingus, maledom, praise, compliments
summary ? — bruce has the best dirty talk.
౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY 🦇
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husband!bruce wayne, who knows what his words do to you and uses them skillfully.
husband!bruce wayne, who only needs to open his mouth and talk to make you wet.
husband!bruce wayne, who massages your clit through the fabric of your underwear and whispers “so wet for me, yes? yes, princess, just for me?”
husband!bruce wayne, who will occasionally take a break from your clit just to talk; sure, he doesn't look like the kind of man who would be distracted by conversation in the middle of his favorite business, but my god, your face when you moan disappointedly is worth it, “are you okay, love? should i stop?” and he says it all with a satisfied soft smile, as if he doesn't realize at all what a mess you're becoming after him.
husband!bruce wayne, who's just admiring you and the way you're watching his movements. “that's it, love. my wife is so delicious,” he straddles your thighs and spreads them a little wider, not forgetting to look you straight in the eyes, “i could stay between those thighs all day. you're so beautiful from this angle,” he's so good with his words that you want to cum right now.
husband!bruce wayne, who knows where to push and where to kiss; with each movement of his tongue, your legs tense up more and more, and your hands reach for his hair, pulling him closer, closer, closer...
“so impatient,” bruce continues to murmur, “let me enjoy, princess, don't be so unfair,” he leaves a kiss on your clit, making you clench around his fingers. you lean back and try to relax, but it's almost impossible when the rough pads of his fingers press against the tender walls, “good girl,” he whispers and still continues to suck on your clit, “look at you. so beautiful when you cum.”
husband!bruce wayne, who fucks you so deep and slow that with each thrust you seem to see stars. “you were enthusiastic when we started,” bruce pulls back your hair a little, leaning over and whispering right into your lips, “look at you. cumming on my cock for the second time,” he speeds up a little as his fingers find your clit; it takes you a couple seconds to cum again, “good girl, so good.”
husband!bruce wayne, who continues to whisper short “my beautiful girl”, “that big cock makes you cum again, doesn't it, love?” and “you're so fucking tight”.
husband!bruce wayne, who wants another orgasm from you. he wants to empty you; to fuck your brain, to make you forget everything that might be in your pretty head. he pushes deep into you, unbearably slow and sensual, so that you want to scream out how good it feels, ”are you okay, my love?” bruce strokes your hair, twisting a strand on his finger as you mutter positively in response, “great, because i’m not going to stop until i fill you with my cum.” ୨♡୧
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sorry for delay ! still having a little rest :)
like, comment & reblog? <3
🦇 abt me | m.list
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leviathanleva · 4 hours
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........................
Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader
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Request:
This is kind of a weird req and I want to write something for it eventually but-
Fem! Reader who was frozen but eventually escapes and falls for the Ghoul and they fuck a couple times and for some reason she has symptoms of pregnancy and they're like what the fuck but it just turns out that she was pregnant before she was frozen and the Ghoul's reactions and whatever. Angst or fluff I don't really mind :)
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[MDNI, Angst, Smut, Fluff]
[ I don't usually do requests, but I wanted to help out a friend who believed they wouldn't be able to do justice to this prompt. It's sloppy, not perfect, but time is limited and I have other projects that need my attention so I hope this suffices. ]
........................
Freedom.
Freedom was sweet.
Freedom was bitter.
Since the moment you’d awoken in that Gods-forsaken cryo pod in that wasting away vault you’d known there was no other path except the path of freedom. Stepping over mummified corpses, fellow vault dwellers you presumed, you’d lead wobbly legs and a pounding heart to the entrance of the vault. It felt like yesterday you’d first set foot in there. In reality, you had no idea how many years had passed, but from the looks of the rusting walls and thick blanket of dust, it had been a while.
You took what you could, stuffing a stray children’s backpack you’d found along your scavenging mission, anything and everything that would be necessary for a journey into a land you used to call home. A small pocket knife was the best you could get and it wasn’t the perfect self-defense tool, but with no other choice there wasn’t much you could do but stuff it in the pocket of your suit and hope for a miracle if you ran into trouble.
And trouble you found.
Since your first step into the bone-dry, scalding hot, merciless wasteland, you’d found trouble in the shape of a deranged group of people hammering at the vault door with makeshift weapons. You might have been able to fight off one of them, you doubted given how dizzy and out-of-touch with reality you were, but there was a slim chance. Three of them though, all large burly men with enough scars to put a military general to shame? No, that was impossible. You ended up a writhing mess on the ground, face pushed into the cracked soil and screaming and kicking as you were being taunted and tied up like a good catch after a successful hunt. Trafficking, cannibalism, organ harvesting, death. A slew of words so vile they made your stomach churn and your eyes bulge out of your skull because who in their right mind said such things to an outnumbered, weak woman who pleaded in a broken voice and had tears staining her cheeks?
Then he appeared, your guardian angel.
A man so grotesque on the outside, so vicious and bitter and terrifying, and yet he was the one who shot your captors down. He was the one who cut your wrists and ankles free and helped you sit up as you heaved and choked and sobbed. He was the one who checked you over despite the visible revulsion on his gaunt face at the sight of your vault suit. He’d dragged you to your feet, forced some sense into you, given you a stern reality check of the world he came from and never really shooed you away when you’d started following him around like a lost pup.
You loved him since that day.
And maybe it wasn’t the good kind of love because he’d used you as a distraction for his enemies more than once and never shared his water with you even if you were on the brink of passing out from dehydration. But he also let you sit close to the fire at night, told you stories of his bounty hunts, taught you how to handle a gun and always kept you in his sights lest someone thought you were up for grabs. He was a cruel man, but he was also a kind man.
You never overstepped. Always following his every order, whether it was to hide, to strip bleeding men of their valuables, or to get him another drink when his feet were kicked high and he couldn’t be bothered to do so himself. Always pliant, always willing, no questions asked because you wanted to live despite the hellhole reality you were thrust in. Maybe that’s why he grew fond of you over time, you didn’t rebel against him and took what he gave you with a whisper of gratitude. A good dog, that’s how he saw you. He slowly softened for you, split your rations evenly when you sat down to eat, thrust the canteen in your hands when he noticed your lips were dry, and smushed his hat over your head when the sun was too awful and you were too delicate to withstand it.
Cooper Howard, that was his name, a man made ghoul by the sheer toxicity of the surface, a man who gave you enough scraps to keep your love for him flourishing but never progressed things beyond a one-sided infatuation.
That is until he was left struggling on the floor of an old abandoned farmhouse, a feral ghoul looming above him and pinning him in place and snapping its jaws at him as foul-smelling, viscous drool dribbled down its chin. His hunting knife was gripped tightly, but between keeping himself from being bitten to shreds and holding one of the ghoul’s hands at bay before it could sink into his side and tear at his gut, he was stuck.
When the shot rang out and the ghoul slumped against him lifelessly, he saw you. Holding his gun as you shook violently, about ready to piss yourself because you’d never killed anything remotely resembling a human in your life, eyes wide and lips trembling and knees buckling. Smoke leisurely rose from the tip of the barrel and as he pushed the corpse off himself you sunk to your arse and burst into a fit of haggard breaths and disturbed whines.
You didn’t resist when he picked you up with alien tenderness, didn’t protest when he stuffed you in an old rickety couch and crushed you beneath his weight with a handful of sweet praises. You didn’t pull away in disgust when his tongue pushed past your lips in search of your own, twirling, dancing, letting words spill without ever being spoken. He wasn’t gentle, since the moment you heard his belt unbuckling he was all pawing hands and chopped curses, fiddling with your clothes until his need became too much to bear and he simply ripped them off. He threw a weak promise to get you new ones, but you couldn't care less at that moment. High-pitched mewls and desperate grunts bounced off the walls as he took you on that couch, rutting into you like a man possessed and gripping onto you so firmly as if you’d come to your senses any moment now and run away from him.
A radstorm raged outside, clashing against the boarded-up windows as the pitter-patter of acid rain poured against the tin roof. You never even noticed, too drunk on the sloppy sounds coming from the slick mess of your conjoined bodies, on the verge of a climax so raw it would surely knock you out. Blunt fingernails sank in your supple thighs, scarred hips slammed into yours as he fucked you dumb into the couch. His mouth never left yours, whether it was to keep himself quiet in case too many loving words escaped or because he craved your taste like a rabid dog did blood, you didn’t know. When your ankles locked around his waist he snarled, whatever self-control he’d managed to scrape by completely dissipating as he drove himself deeper. The tip of his cock snapped against the barrier of your squishy cervix so deliciously and you screamed his name in desperation and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He released one of your hips to slide a hand between your bodies and drag his rough thumb over your swollen clit. Your back arched, eyes rolled back and mouth agape as you bombarded him with barely coherent sentences that he didn’t deserve. He clutched at your hair when you clamped down on him, milking him for everything he had while he rocked out his release with face stuffed in the crook of your neck.
Something in him changed after that night.
It might have been the unfathomably long time without a caring touch or him finally succumbing to the little voices in his head telling him what he held for you wasn’t simply fondness. He took you every chance he got. In a guest house, against the wall of a bar after one too many drinks, bent over on a chewed-up fence after scavenging another farmhouse. He was relentless and you loved that about him. You loved everything about him. Always needy and ready and he couldn’t ask for more because this was the closest he could get to expressing himself when it came to you.
Life was good.
Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
You wince as the needle prickles your skin before retracting back in the Pip-boy. The green screen whirls, loading up and analyzing your blood sample for a full body scan. You give the damn thing a few smacks when it freezes and stutters.
Now really wasn’t the time for technical difficulties.
“You okay?”
Apparently, no matter how hard you had tried to hide your bubbling panic, it was still evident enough for Cooper to notice. He’s looking at you with a hint of suspicion, attention averted from the steaming can of cram he’d been stuffing in his mouth.
“I’m good, no worries.” you muster up a weary smile and instinctively tuck the Pip-boy closer to your stomach.
When the Vault Boy pops up on the screen with all the information available regarding your condition, you tense up. Your fingers hesitate to turn the cog to the main body scan as doubts and confusion and raw, untamable fear chew at your sensitive stomach and tug you slowly towards the gates of insanity.
“Don’t look okay to me.” Cooper straightens from his slouched-over position over the measly fire and sets aside his food before clasping a hand over one of his thighs. “Was wrong? Was I too rough again?” there’s a teasing scowl brightening his usually stoic expression, he scoffs and shakes his head. “I told you t’ smack my shoulder when I get too loose, woman. You never listen.”
You want to cry and laugh, but you do neither.
“That’s not it, Cooper.”
“Then speak for fuck’s sake!” he grumbles and gestures to you with slight agitation.
You pay him no mind, having delved too deep in the premises of your mind on what you were supposed to do if you read that single life-changing word on the scan. With a huff and a mental pat on your back, you turned the cog and opened the main body scan.
“Pregnant.”
It made sense. It explained the morning sickness that you hid, being forced out of your sleep while Cooper snored lightly next to you, and carefully pulling away before rushing to a safe spot where you could empty your stomach without being seen. You never told him, just jammed RadAway after RadAway, hoping it was poisoning or maybe some sort of flu. When the cravings came, you started second-guessing. You never gave into them, throwing caps left and right for a slice of some nearly impossible-to-get delicacy was unthinkable, you had to survive and there was no room for luxury.
You failed to spot the rugged ghoul as he left his seat and crept closer, spurred by your awkward demeanor, until he was kneeling right next to you and silently sharing the sight of the green graph.
“What in the hell…”
You recoiled at his words, at his realization, and tried to cover the Pip-boy with your hand and hide the thunderous revelation of your condition.
He was having none of it.
He smacked your hand away and gripped your forearm so tight you shuddered, bringing it closer to his eyes as his face contorted.
“What the fuck does this mean?” he spits and looks at you with something vile in those whiskey-colored eyes you loved so much.
“I don’t – ” you swallow thickly, crumbling under his gaze and snuffing out the need to rip away from him and run. You meet his stare for a split second before turning away. “ – I haven’t…Not with anyone except you.”
Lightning strikes into his core and he pulls away like bitten by a snake.
“The hell you mean you haven’t fucked anyone ‘cept me?” he stands, intimidating and cold, berating you with just his visage and nothing more. “How the fuck did you get pregnant then?”
“I’ve been with you since the day I left the vault, you know this.” you reach out for him, desperate for some sort of comfort, desperate for him to calm down because you couldn’t mentally take on both him and the news. “Cooper, please.”
He shoots you down with a snarl and a spine-chilling glare.
“Don’t fucken’ touch me.”
He’s pacing, trotting around like a cornered animal, the spurs on his boots clinking, a sickening cacophony that roots you in place and keeps your mouth shut. You don’t know what to say, you’re not a liar, yet you wish this was some twisted joke and you could laugh it off and confirm it wasn’t real.
A hand is rubbing vigorously at his chin as he tries to think, but there’s nothing in his head except that one single word that means so much and makes absolutely no sense.
He knew you weren’t lying, he’d always kept you within arm’s length, there was no way for you to even sneak past him without being noticed.
It still hurt though, the image of you leaving because he was a rotten man who’d struck gold by finding you. He was no good for you, never would be, and it tore him to shreds because he knew all of this and still he kept you by his side and cocked his gun at anyone who tried to step too close.
Why wouldn’t you bed another man when he looked like a walking corpse and acted even worse? Why wouldn’t you ditch him to be with a nice bartender and a good-mannered farmboy who would treat you like a lady should be treated?
Why wouldn’t you cheat him out of the only happiness he had?
“Is not fucking possible, sweetheart.” he finally speaks, faltering at your audible sobs. The idea of you slipping past his fingers to sleep with someone else is pushed to the side by the absolutely pathetic sight of you curled up on the floor and crying.
Ghouls were sterile, all of them, 100%, there was no way for him to knock you up even if he wanted to. But the Pip-boy said otherwise and now he was left questioning the very foundation of his existence.
“I know that.” you sputter through choppy hiccups. “But you’re the only man I’ve been with...It doesn’t make fucking sense.” you clutch at your sides, waterfalls streaming down your cheeks and pooling under your chin, eyes distant and jittery. “What if it’s deformed because of the radiation? Or if it’s not even alive? Or – What am I supposed to do…”
His body moves despite his protests.
He kneels in front of you, encasing you between his thighs, his fingers twitching and rising as he drowns in the long-forgotten feeling of being presented with such news. His hands are shaking and he rests them over your shoulders and pretends he can’t feel his pulse rampaging in his throat.
“What do you wanna do?”
It’s such a simple question, but coming from him under such a premise makes your head spin and your heart stop.
“I – ” you press your forehead against the center of his collarbones, arms protectively curling over your belly because despite not showing there was someone in there. Someone precious. “ – I don’t know…I’d like to – I don’t know.”
You stop and start, cutting off words that you weren’t ready to tell him yet and he wasn’t ready to hear either. But life didn’t care if you were ready or not, things happened, consent or not, and now you were both stuck in a mess you’d unwittingly made all by yourselves. There was always the easy route – find a settlement, get to the doc, have it removed, done deal, easy peasy.
But did you really want that?
It wasn’t just your kid, it was his too and him not saying a word, not even mentioning discarding it made things so much harder.
No, he gave you a choice, he put everything in your hands and he was holding you while you fought a silent battle that would dictate the entirety of your future.
“I think – ”
“ – I ain’t goin’ fucken’ nowhere.” he slices through your hesitation like butter, body rigid and jaw clenched because for once he was trying to be a man and not a monster.
Maybe even a father.
You shatter in his arms like glass and he presses one of his palms against the back of your head while the other circles your waist and brings you closer.
“You’d stay?” you ask with such horror and disbelief that it clutches at his chest and he struggles to breathe. You’re no coward, despite how heavy the air feels, you look up at him and you’re so vulnerable and angelic that he forgets every setback that would come his way. “If I kept it…you’d stay?”
He can’t answer, the words refuse to form, but he holds your gaze with calm stability, a good masquerade to hide a mind that was racing and a heart that was pounding so heavily he felt his entire body pulsing. Instead, he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against your forehead in a voiceless promise.
You suck in a breath like it’s your first and cling to the collar of his coat, disappearing in his form, hiding from the world that was so cruel yet gifted you with something so precious.
The Pip-boy is still lit and waiting, the scan bright and piercing. You skim over it absentmindedly, a simple curious flick, then look again and squint your eyes at the tiny text printed under your pregnancy announcement.
“Four months.”
You’d only been out of cryo for three…
He followed your wide-eyed stare, he was no fool, he could do basic math.
You’d been pregnant before meeting him, before leaving the vault, before the bombs.
You want to puke. You want to rip your skin off and bury yourself alive because for the love of God it couldn’t be just perfect, there had to be some sick underlying thing to ruin everything. It wasn’t his, he was right, ghouls couldn’t have children.
It wasn’t his child.
You look disgusted and utterly pained because the realization makes you mourn at the idea of carrying his baby. You wanted to, you’d give anything for it to be his and not some random bloke you couldn’t even remember the face of. You wanted it to be his…
You search his face for anger or disappointment or anything that would prepare you for what was to come. Why would he stay if the damn thing wasn’t even his? He had his own problems, his mission. You were just an obstacle that had nearly made him believe he was going to be a father and maybe it was his second chance at doing it right.
There was nothing though.
He simply blinked at you, lips parted as he formed a sentence that had you pledge yourself to him for as long as you stood and breathed.
“That don’t change a damn thing.”
Tag list: @bountydroid @v3lv3tf0x @silverose365
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heauxvibez · 20 hours
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Can You Stand The Reign
warning: smut (18+), @harmshake has inspired me for today's oneshot, so thank her and enjoyyyyy!
"You're such a fucking whore, I swear! I should've listened to everyone who warned me about you!" I unleashed my frustration, my voice cutting through the pulsating energy of the club as I stormed out.
Roman's hand grasped my arm, attempting to halt my furious exit, but I pulled my arm away, shooting him the darkest glare I could muster.
"Don't. Fucking. Touch. Me. I hate you," I spat, not even bothering to gauge his reaction before I turned on my heel and marched away.
Between the booming music and the dim lighting, it seemed like not many eyes were on us, but honestly, I didn't care. He clearly wasn't bothered by being the center of attention, so why should I be?
We'd been craving a night out with friends, a rare treat amidst our busy lives. I was thrilled at the idea of stepping out with my man by my side. He'd cleaned up nicely, looking absolutely irresistible as always. But of course, the good vibes couldn't last for too long. Roman disappeared onto the dance floor with his cousins, and in no time, a repulsive groupie latched onto him, grinding shamelessly. That was the moment I lost it.
As I stormed outside, the rain pounded down mercilessly, drenching me within seconds. I didn't know where to go; I hadn't driven here, and the last place I wanted to be was in a car with him.
Seeking dryness is the shadows of an alley, I unleashed my pent-up emotions, throwing my clutch to the ground and succumbing to a fit of rage. My screams echoed off the walls, swallowed by the downpour that drowned out all other sounds.
My back slid against the cold, wet brick as I sat on the ground. My tears mingled with raindrops as I replayed the scene inside the club. The image of him grinding on another woman burned in my mind.
"Get up." The commanding voice shattered all my thoughts.
"Excuse me?" I shot back, thrown back at the audacity.
"You heard me. Get up," Roman repeated.
"No," I growled back, crossing my arms in stubborn defiance, only to feel strong hands seize my jacket collar, hoisting me up effortlessly.
"Let me go!" I thrashed against his hold, landing a slap to his face.
My attempted slap didn't even move him. Was he some sort of superhuman?
"I dare you to slap me again," he challenged, his brown eyes boring into mine with an intensity that scared me and.. turned me on?
Resisting the urge to lash out again, I swallowed my pride, allowing him to release me to the ground.
As he closed the distance between us, gripping my ponytail and tilting my head back, my body gave in immediately. His tongue traced a path from my neck to my ear, sending my heart beat right into my panties.
"Now be a good girl and come back into the club with me," he whispered, his breath warming my body up from the cold.
"No," I resisted, though my resolve wavered under the weight of his gaze.
"I guess 'no' seems to be your favorite word today, huh baby?" he quipped, his fingers undoing my jacket zipper before I could protest.
"Roman, get off of me," I protested weakly, my anger subsiding despite me still attempting to fight back.
But even as I fought against him, a part of me couldn't deny the thrill of his touch, the way his lips had me in a chokehold.
He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.
His fingers fumbled with the buttons of my blouse, but he didn't bother with finesse, tearing the fabric apart with a roughness. His eyes darkened with desire as he noticed I wore no bra beneath. With a shrug, I let the remnants of the shirt fall to the ground, baring myself to him.
I reached around him, releasing his beautiful locks from their confine. His curls tumbled down his back, soaking up the raindrops that threatened to fall down any further.
He attacked my lips with an intensity that caught me off guard. I hadn't intended to respond, but I found myself kissing him back eagerly. Gripping his hair tightly, I pulled hard, wanting him to feel the sting of my anger. He groaned against my lips and sanded his teeth into my bottom lip with force, leaving a bruise in its wake.
"That hurt, you idiot!" I hissed, my frustration boiling over.
He chuckled, "You get what you give, sweetheart.." he retorted, callously discarding my leather jacket onto the cold, wet concrete.
"You're such an asshole," I muttered half-heartedly.
Capturing my nipple between his thumb and index finger, he rolled and pinched it mercilessly. "I enjoy being an asshole," he confessed, before dipping his head down and taking my nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing it with a hint of aggression.
I tugged on his earlobe, a silent plea for gentleness, but he seemed intent on testing my limits. His lips trailed back up my neck, inhaling what was left of my baccarat rouge 540 perfume. He moaned at the scent, it was his favorite.
Lowering the zipper on my jeaned shorts, he smirked at the revelation that I wore no panties. "Fuck, you know just how to turn me on," he murmured against my lips.
Without hesitation, he plunged three fingers inside me. Gripping my jaw firmly, he tilted my head back, locking eyes with me as he relentlessly thrust his fingers in and out, the feeling of him massaging my walls had me at a loss of words.
"Fuck the club, we're heading home," he declared, withdrawing his fingers before plunging them back in forcefully, eliciting moans of approval from my lips.
His kiss was tender, a stark contrast to the roughness of his touch. "I know I fucked up tonight, but I'll make it up to you. I promise," he whispered, his fingers curling inside me, hitting just the right spot.
I cursed loudly, clutching his wet hair as a euphoric wave crashed over me, my body trembling against the cold brick wall.
As I regained my senses, he steadied me with his arm, his fingers lingering in his mouth as he savored the taste of me. His tongue danced between his fingers, and he slurped the lingering juices that threatened to drip down to his palm. A whimper couldn't help but escape my lips at the sight.
He handed me his damp shirt and my jacket, leaving him in a damp undershirt that clung to his glistening muscles.
"Here, put this on for now until we get home,"
Taking his soaked shirt, I pulled it on, my eyes tracing the contours of his body hungrily.
Oh, we're definitely going to finish this when we get home..
------------------------
I was not planning on posting today LOL but here ya go :)
Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @mzv11 @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx
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dykefaggotry · 3 days
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[image id: an ask from @harbingerofskulls that reads: "im gonna b real i only knew the jerking off i would love to hear you elaborate more if you want to go on the whole situation" /end id]
answering here so i can save as a draft without risking the ask disappearing bc tumblr's been doing that lately but
oh god </3 for everyone else- it's talking about this post. sooo i'm gonna go through each one bc i've been feeling insane for several weeks. i'll do my best to cite my sources lmao
i don't know (johnny johnny)
this is referring to this unreleased VERY early beatles track from 1960. the audio quality is absolute shit & as such unfortunately people love to put words to it that don't make much sense in either direction (i.e a lot of mclennon fans want to hear "you're in love with me" and a lot of people that hate mclennon will just make up the weirdest lyrics that make 0 sense so it's Not Gay). some of the lyrics that ARE clear make it obvious this song is about the two of them running away together- at one point i'm fairly certain paul says "how am i gonna tell my father that we're leaving town?" probably referring to them leaving to hamburg. which would be fine but some of the other lyrics areeeee..... very..... Hm. like multiple times paul refers to john as "my boy" and there's bits of them talking about not knowing what to tell their friends & wanting to just run off together alone. if i were the other members of the band having to record this i would have killed them with hammers <3 also the entire end is just paul going "oh johnny" like 1 million times. okay. sure. also since the lyrics ARE so garbled i mean i guess people could be right about it saying "how am i gonna tell my father you're in love with me" but i just don't hear it. still, a very gay song about running off together and getting away from everything and everyone, complete with moaning the other's name </3
2. paris
this one is a huge part of McLennon Fandom Lore lmao but for good reason. not citing sources on all this bc it's one of those that's just Fact & can be found in like any beatles biography or thebeatlesbible.com (my savior) but. for john's 21st birthday, he got 100 pounds from a rich relative. instead of taking his girlfriend or any of his other friends, he decided to use the money to take paul to spain. but they stopped in paris on the way and just decided to stay there. which i mean like. taking your best friend over your girlfriend to the city of love is a little weird but it's not THAT weird. it's everything else that makes people want to chew glass about it. including some of the other things on this list. like this audio of john just goofing around singing about paris and paul, with such hits as "my cheri, my pau pau my pau paul." which is :| okay best friend. and paul has this picture hung up in his house that he took of john sleeping in paris. okay. sure. why not. (although ig there's some doubt about if the photo is from paris? either way it's a picture paul took and has framed in his house which is incriminating enough my man). also NOT in the original post but may pang, a woman john had a brief affair with in the 70s, wrote a book called loving john. in it, there's this quote:
After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”
“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.”
okay! also in an interview once he said:
The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing.
(interview with david scheff for playboy in september 1980)
3. if i fell
this one i already made an insane post on that started my spiral into posting about the beatles publicly </3 but, essentially, the song "if i fell" by john is..... well it's most likely about paul. he said it wasn't about his wife but that it was auto-biographical and he never really had any public affairs that weren't flings, certainly not a lover. but most damning is he wrote the complete lyrics for the first time on a valentine's day card addressed "to paul with love" with some hearts and arrows pointing to where the lyrics were written. absolutely insane. made me insane.
4. oh! darling
rawest paul song of all time if i do say so myself lmao. but it's just.... Highly Suspicious, that's what it is. a Lot of beatles fans/historians will admit this song is most likely about john but they won't admit that it's fucking romantic if it is. like.
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like that is so blatantly romantic idk what to say other than that. also, in the official recording on abbey road, there's Several points where paul says "darling" that sound more like he's saying "johnny" which is what he called him. people brush it off by saying it's his accent, but there's a very clear difference between when he's saying "darling" and when he's saying "johnny". i mean the Lore behind this is that it was written right when things were splitting up between them (& the rest of the band) so it makes sense and it's why most people are willing to accept it's about john. it's just insane to me that they'll accept it's about john without considering the implications of that.
5. the real life demo
this one made me want to light myself on fire i won't lie to you. but here it is! john had a song called "real love" and this is a very early demo of it. but instead of the lyrics that came to actually be in the song (which are thought to be about yoko but let's not get into the fact that it was on a tape labeled "for paul" but whatever), it includes john fucking crying as he sings saying:
"was i just dreaming or was it only yesterday? i used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby and another on the way... la la la la farm..."
which can quite literally be about no one else but paul, as this demo was recorded when he'd just had two children with his wife linda and linda was pregnant with their third child. they'd moved to a farm in scotland. hearing this audio clip did genuinely make me want to lie down in the dirt for a week. also "i used to hold you in my arms" just... yeah. god. when people think it was unrequited idk what to say, really.
6. If Paul Were A Woman-
shoving these two together but. in april of 85, paul said in an interview about john and yoko's relationship:
"I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, 'Who’s this?' You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…"
okay bestie <3 and what would make your relationship different if you were a woman? interesting! and yoko had something similar to say. in this audio, she says:
"I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat – because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul."
just reminds me of being a kid and telling my best friends "if i were a boy i'd date you" lol. incredible. does anyone here know about bisexuality.
7. stuart!
not much to say here except that john had a best friend, stu sutcliffe, who died young & before that had been the bassist in the band. paul fucking hated him sooo much oh he SEETHED. a lot has been written on that relationship but it was.... very interesting to say the least. it could have just been about the band, or just jealousy over john's friendship, but take that with a lot of john biographers suspecting john had feelings/even a sexual relationship with stuart and it paints a very Interesting picture to say the least
8. john's bisexuality
here's a compilation of quotes about it, but john was more than likely bisexual. which has nothing to do w paul, really, but more to do against people that like to claim they were both Heterosexual Men. although an interesting quote in this compilation is him saying he's "had paul" lmfao
9. paul's post-beatles work
there's just.... there is so so so much here i don't even know where to begin. @ringompreg has a good compilation of paul songs here. a lot of them do take a bit of Lore but like..... it comes down to the fact that both him and john have/had admitted many times to using their lyrics during The Breakup Years to talk to/reference each other and sooooo many of these lyrics are insanely blatant. the two i mentioned were tug of war and let me roll it, both of which are acknowledged to be about john by most people WITH NO ONE BOTHERING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT which..... tug of war has this:
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we could stand on top of the mountain with our flag unfurled? dancing to a beat played on a different drum? this is what gaylors think gaylor conspiracy is but paul mccartney is really out here saying this shit.
and let me roll it is so fucking blatantly romantic but every reviewer is like haha! what a cool song that's "making fun" of john and clearly in his style! like are straight people stupid genuinely. anyway:
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bonus to that but about JOHN'S solo work :)))))) he wrote a song called "watching the wheels" and when you consider he very much responded to MANY of paul's solo stuff it's :)
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which as a response to let me roll it would just be... so devestating but it may be a stretch idk if i'm onto anything there it's just worth Mentioning
and there's a lot of others, a lot of them in that post up there. like far too many where paul mentions falling in love with a friend like Alright.
10. paul's first lsd trip with john/"i know" "i know"
this one is less blatantly romantic but it is just insane. here's an article. and a quote from george martin about it. the first time paul tripped on acid w john was bc john accidentally took some and he took him home & then took acid w him bc he didn't want john to be alone on the trip :( but, notably:
"And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot," the singer recalled, "And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away."
he also apparently saw john as the, and i quote, "emperor of eternity" during this trip??????? okay
SOMEWHERE i can't find it rn and i'm getting lazy but somewhere they (i think paul?) talk about the fact that they used to just stare into each other's eyes and then say "i know" "i know" which. considering john's song "i know (i know)" makes me crazy
11. in my life/i will
these are really just some devastating songs with lyrics that make you really raise your eyebrows. for in my life, written by john, it's just an incredibly romantic & sweet song that is again, not about his wife. given that the lennon estate is still out here posting pictures of paul to those lyrics i have to say it's a liiiiittle suspicious. and i will is...... it's one that paul insists is not about his girlfriend at the time, jane asher. and when you look at the lyrics vs how him and john met.... like. the song goes:
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and the story of how they met was that paul saw john repeatedly before they ever met, when he didn't know who john was other than that he thought he looked cool & admired his sideburns (lmfao). and when they did finally meet, it was when john was singing at a garden fete (party) and paul was in the crowd just Mesmerized. so. well. you can see.... you can see how fitting that is. makes me crazy makes me want to chew glass actually
12. "we were each other's intimates" and other insane quotes
"we were each other's intimates" is a paul quote about john which is just insane but that's not even the tip of the iceberg. here's a ton of quote compilations.
13. "literally everything else"/honorable mentions
some honorable mentions go out to: john going on stage w elton john & playing i saw her standing there and introducing it as "a song by an estranged fiance of mine" okay! the "just like starting over" demos. okay! which isn't even to MENTION the fact that paul locked himself away in the studio listening to "just like starting over" on repeat for DAYS after john died like???? john saying repeatedly that he considered paul & yoko to be his two major partners in life including in an interview the literal day he died. a whole ass rpf movie where they kiss & talk like they're ex-lovers and dance in central park (two of us) made by the same dude that made the let it be movie like. he knew them personally? he worked with them closely? and the only thing paul had to say about it was just essentially that it was what he wished would've happened like???????? i can't find a super reliable source for this so take it w a grain of salt, but apparently paul referred to mclennon fanfiction as "beautiful stories" and doesn't mind them being written. paul also had a cat that had kittens & he named two of the kittens pyramus and thisbe after fictional lovers he and john played and he gave pyramus (the character paul played) to john :|
and literally so much else like all of this and it's not even all of it. it's not even close to all of it. i didn't even get to talk about the way in "get back" the documentary, paul started talking about john leaving the band for yoko and how john would choose her over them and then he got teary eyed, started choke laughing, and then started singing "build me up buttercup" before looking at the cameras and stopping. what the FUCK was that about! IT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE SONG "TWO OF US" THAT'S SO OBVIOUSLY ABOUT JOHN THAT IT HURTS. it's. it's not even scratching the surface. they were just genuinely insane about each other.
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badaleesbish · 3 days
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I want to see something where Bada gets idol!reader pregnant and their relationship is public. I dont have a plot just want to see something cute. Maybe throw in some drama cause why not
Down bad bada is a must
What A Life. | Bada Lee x Reader
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°SUMMARY:
"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."
"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗."
"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."
"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐."
"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."
~ 𝙹𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚒𝚔𝚘 - 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 (𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎)
°CW:
𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚐!𝚙 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚊, 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢, 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 (𝚛. & 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚊), 𝙳𝙸𝙳 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳‼️ 𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂‼️
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There is a lot to being an idol. From having some sort of talent, just simply being a pretty face to look at to strict diets and contracts, hectic overloaded schedules, and toxic groups and companies, but there is something that is expected of you is an idol. Can you guess what it is...
Being the only one for your fans, a parasocial relationship if you will. You are supposed to stay pure and innocent for your fans, no sex, no relationship, no children, no drinking or smoking, no potty mouth. You are supposed to keep your fans as happy as possible, whether it makes you uncomfortable or not. Just do it with a smile, they say. Well, so much for not "breaking" the "idol rules."
You may have screwed up a few months into your solo career as an idol. Your relationship with your choreographer, Bada Lee, was exposed by fucking sasaengs and then was quickly picked up by Dispatch, fucking snitch. There was some hate with comments on your social media like,
"Unnie, you are not ashamed for abandoning us like this?"
"Well... there goes her career."
"Noona, a woman, seriously?!?!? Maybe you should get a real MAN?!?!"
"Wow, so we fuck our choreographers now."
"STAY AWAY BADA, YOU DIRTY CUNT!!!"
But despite the hate, you and Bada decided to go public with your relationship, which gained quite a bit of support with comments from both your fanbases,
"Come on, guys, just admit it. They are cute as fuck."
"Love it!!!"
"Both of my worlds are colliding. What the actual fuck?!?!?."
"My parents are so cute!!!"
"Made for each other fr."
"Look at how they look at each other."
You both were happy. Your careers were skyrocketing, and you two still had somewhat of a supportive fanbase together and solo. Your company were somewhat supportive but still made you apologize to fans to regain their trust again.
"So what you are telling me is that I have to apologize for falling in love?" You scoffed as you sat across from your manager and a couple of members of your staff. "Are you hearing yourself right now?"
"Well, ma'am, you signed a contract that states everything regarding the dating ban as well as the consequences that may follow if broken." Your manager said, pushing the contract towards you as well as pen and paper to follow. "It's there in black and white, ma'am."
"So what's next? Are you gonna make me apologize for getting married and starting a family, too? You said as you began to write your heartfelt apology to your fans.
"Well, let's just hope that doesn't happen, right?" Your manager said as he leaned back in his seat with a smirk on his face. "You are our money maker, sweetheart, so we kind of need you. Tell your bitch to wrap that shit up, okay?"
"Yeah, whatever." You scoffed as you pushed the pan and paper back towards him, standing from your seat as you made your way to the door. "Also, if I were you, I'd watch what the fuck I say since ya know, I am your money maker."
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"So what do we do with it?"
"Bada, you don't have to do anything. I have to handle this."
"It should be fairly easy, right?"
Bada was quite confused about the whole situation. It's like, at one moment, you were perfectly fine and then you end up sick at the simple scent or taste of a food. At first you both thought it was your menstrual cycle until you realized you were a whole two weeks late. It can't be, right? There's no way... Is there?
"Okay, I'll just read the instructions and just go for it. What's the worst that could happen?" You grabbed the bag of pregnancy test and made your way to the bathroom with Bada hot on your heels. "Baby, just let me take the test, okay? Alone, please?"
"Yeah, of course. If you need me, just call." Bada said, kissing your forehead before backing up allowing you to walk into the bathroom. "I'll be right here, okay?"
You nodded as you closed the door behind you. Nerves began to rush over your body as you pulled the test from the bag and began to read the instructions.
"Okay, step one, remove the plastic cap and use immediately. Step two, hold the absorbent tip in urine stream for five seconds. Step three, replace cap and lay test flat. Step four, wait 1 to 3 minutes for results." You read, taking deep breath after the mouth full. "Alright, seems simple."
After five tests, constant hand washing and the struggle of just trying to pee on the stick, you were finally done and now is the even more nerve-wracking part, waiting for the results. The three minutes seemed like hours, but it was time, and to be honest, you were scared shit less. If these tests come out positive, what will this mean for both of your careers?
"Bada..." You called out for your girlfriend on the other side of the door. "Come in here now."
"What does it say? Baby, why are you crying?" Bada said as she rushed into the bathroom to see you sitting on the floor with a test in your hands as tears stream down your cheeks.
Bada looked over to the other tests on the counter. Her hands flew over her mouth as she let out gasp. "Positive... it's positive."
Bada sat next to you, wrapping her arms around your body as you sob into her shirt, still gripping to test in your hand. You are pregnant, and there's no going back now. It's not that you don't want children, you do, but not this early and not like this. You wanted to getting married and be settled, no more idol life just you, Bada and your baby living somewhere discreet and outside the public eye.
"What are we gonna do, Bada? What about my career? What about your career? The fans? The company?" You began to play out everything in your head of what would happen if the public found out. All the backlash and more negative comments. "I'm scared, Bada."
"Hey, it's you and I, okay? Don't worry about all of that. If this was not meant to be, then it would have never happened." Bada lifted your head as she wiped your falling tears, gently caressing your cheeks. "It's okay to be scared, baby. This is new for both of us. We're gonna take it one step at a time. Together."
You smiled weakly as you leaned into her touch, nodding in agreeance. "I love you."
"I love you too." Bada said, pulling you into a kiss. "We got this."
"We got this."
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°AN:
Ummm... I really hope you enjoy this, and I am sorry for the VERY late response. Enjoy, tho!!! 💙
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jinwoosungs · 16 hours
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{ 155 }
follow you.
jinwoo sung x fem.reader
{ i will follow you way down wherever you may go | i'll follow you way down to your deepest low | i'll always be around wherever life takes you | you know i'll follow you... }
anonymous said: Is it possible to have a scenario with Jinwoo where f.reader is dealing with a co-worker in his 50s at work who makes her uncomfortable by making inappropriate remarks in his conversations with her and never respects her personal space, she isn't scared of him but he makes her anxious and nervous at his sight for 7 months straight...and she doesn't tell Jinwoo until he starts noticing that she spaces out more often lost in her thoughts. (Its a true event that happened to me at my work and I hope you can write a comforting scenario for it😮‍💨 also eager to see more of protective Jinwoo 😏)
lately, you found yourself dreading the thought of going to work.
you were a young woman who was a regular civilian in this world filled with hunters, gates, and monsters. ever since these strange gates began to appear all across the world, thousands of people awakened with this unique ability to combat against these threats-
your boyfriend being one of these well known hunters.
however, you were not one of those special humans that had awakened with these abilities.
which was why you worked a regular office job in the midst of the city. and your job was by no means too difficult-
however, there was just one tiny issue with your workplace-
and that came in the form of your highly persistent coworker.
he was a balding man that appeared to be in his mid-50s named ryung. the moment your assigned cubicle was directly next to him, the man made it his life's mission to constantly flirt with you. in between breaks, he would find you and proceed to talk to you, all while placing lingering touches against your arm or shoulder.
"you're so beautiful, hehe."
"you say you have a boyfriend, but i don't believe he's serious about you. hell, if i were 30 years younger, i would have snatched you up and put a ring on that pretty little finger of yours!"
"damn, your ass looks fine in that skirt..."
hearing such constant remarks was enough to make you shudder.
despite the many times you told him you had a boyfriend (that also worked as a powerful hunter!), the man refused to back off. and the fact that this had been going on for nearly 7 months now made it so much worse for you.
now, you were filled with anxiety when ryung casually saunters up to your cubicle. even during the times where you purposely ignored him, the man would simply proceed to linger outside of your cubicle, forcing you to listen to his heavy breathing and crazed mutterings, only walking away when the sounds of your other coworkers approaching forces him to make his retreat.
you thought about turning in your letter of resignation several times, but always decided against it, since this was a good job that paid well-
and you didn't want your boyfriend to do all the heavy lifting when it came to your shared finances.
being so caught up with your thoughts, you couldn't even touch the breakfast your boyfriend had made for you, making him frown in response. he calls out your name several times, but you remain completely unresponsive to him.
"sarang." he calls out your nickname while brushing the ice cold glass of orange juice against your cheek. the sudden, icy sensation felt against your skin successfully manages to break you out of your thoughts, forcing to face your boyfriend's concerned gaze.
"jinwoo... what is it?"
jinwoo sighs before running a hand through his hair, placing the glass of orange juice back on the table. "i was asking you if you were okay for several minutes now, and you just recently responded to me. is something bothering you? i noticed that you haven't been yourself lately... ever since you started your job at that company."
you shift around uncomfortably in your seat, feeling as though you were being interrogated by jinwoo.
"it's nothing, jin. just-"
"bullshit it's nothing."
jinwoo then casually sits back in his seat with his arms crossed, his voice coming out as strained as he was clearly trying to control his anger.
"has ryung been bothering you again?"
your mouth goes dry, meeting jinwoo's gaze with wide eyes.
"h-how did you know about that?"
a smirk paints his handsome features. "have you forgotten just who your lover is?"
ah, that's right... he was the shadow monarch. he probably placed a bunch of his soldiers within your shadow and saw what was going on through their eyes.
"i could always have bellion rip through him for you?" jinwoo asks you while letting out a series of rich chuckles, but you were only half-certain that he was simply joking.
"n-no, you don't need to go that far. ryung is harmless... but a nuisance."
jinwoo hums before gesturing at your plate of breakfast. "come on, go ahead and finish eating. i'm going to take you to work."
"oh, you don't need to, jinwoo-"
"sarang, please, i insist."
with his voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness, you could no longer deny him. letting out a sigh, you give him a nod before returning your attention back to the delicious breakfast jinwoo had prepared for you.
you spend the next thirty minutes making small talk with your boyfriend, setting up plans for the upcoming weekend while being filled with an eagerness for the end of the week. once you finished eating and jinwoo had washed all the plates did he grab his keys. smoothing out your blouse and skirt, you grab your own briefcase while walking out the door with jinwoo.
throughout the whole drive to your workplace, jinwoo holds on to your hand while keeping his other hand on the steering wheel. during every stop light, he brings the back of your hand up against his lips, giving it a sweet kiss while basking in your joyful giggles.
soon enough, jinwoo arrives and parks in front of your office building, unbuckling his seat belt before heading out to open the door for you. seeing him smiling down at you, you give him his hand and allow him to walk with you into the building.
upon entering your workplace, several people recognized jinwoo and immediately greet him (all while trying to hold back their awe). your boyfriend keeps his hand on yours, simply returning their greetings with a smile before escorting you to the elevators.
the ride to the twentieth floor was filled with eager giggles and soft kisses, and you quickly felt your anxieties melt away. a few seconds later, the elevator doors slide open as you and jinwoo walked into the floor where you usually worked.
but instead of allowing you to enter your cubicle, he places a hand behind your back, leading you directly towards ryung's office space.
as if sensing you, the older man looks away from his computer screen, raspy voice calling out your name in an almost possessive manner when he faces you-
only to let out a desperate gasp when jinwoo uses his powers to lift ryung off the ground.
"ack!"
"jinwoo!"
but jinwoo ignores your sudden cries of his name, eyes glowing a bright purple hue as he continues to lift ryung mid-air with his telekinesis. choked sounds were heard coming from the man, and your mind was spinning, becoming filled with a sudden panic-
you didn't want jinwoo to get in trouble because of this man!
"if you continue to flirt with my lover so shamelessly like that ever again, i'll kill you."
within seconds, jinwoo releases his invisible grip on ryung, causing the older man to land on his knees for him. he was coughing, with tears filling his vision as the fear was evident in his eyes. completely ignoring ryung, jinwoo turns his attention back to you all while giving you a sweet smile.
"come, i'll take you back to your cubicle, sarang."
you give jinwoo an exasperated sigh, running your hips against his all while whispering to him, "you're insane, using your powers on him like that...?!"
"so what? i put the fear of the shadow monarch into him. there's no way he would dare to flirt with you now."
as if on cue, you hear ryung let out a whimper while pretending to type something on his computer. you shake your head at jinwoo, but still accept his kiss when he leans down toward you.
only after he was satisfied with your kiss did jinwoo pull away from you. "call me when you're done with your shift, and i'll pick you up."
you give him one last nod, watching as jinwoo leaves your office before deciding to login to your own computer, ready to start your day with a confident smile on your face, secretly grateful for jinwoo's intervention as you were certain ryung would leave you alone now.
{ ... }
the next morning, when you came into work and saw that ryung's cubicle was completely emptied of his belongings, confirming your coworker's mention of his sudden resignation-
that was when you let out a relieved sigh while giggling slightly.
perhaps you would need to treat jinwoo to something nice after all.
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a.n. - hhhhh more double updates because i love jinwoo soooo much! 😭
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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rauchendesgnu · 3 days
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"Would you like a seat?" Gerry asks over his shoulder as Sam follows him deeper into the apartment. "Only if it isn't a bother," Sam says despite the throbbing in his hip. "Oh, it's no problem at all. Let me just--" The young goth rushes ahead into some sort of studio, clearly expecting Sam to follow. Every spot in the room is either occupied with a painting, or painted on, or splattered, or filled with utensils, tools, and other stuff that is necessary for art. Gerry sweeps a pile of pencil sketches from a chair and offers it to Sam, who sits gratefully, eyes still wandering over the atelier in overwhelmed amazement. "I can make some tea?" Gerry offers. "Oh," Sam says with an awkward smile. "I'm more one for coffee." "Do you mind if I make one for myself, then?" "No, go ahead." The sounds of an electric kettle being filled and switched on reaches Sam, whose eyes fall onto the sketches. He leans a bit closer to get a better look. It's not very polite, to go snooping into the drawings of a potential friend, but he can't help himself. He's always been so damn curious. The first sketch shows a short, thin man with dark hair that is starting to go grey despite his young but tired face. His brown skin is covered in scars and his eyes are glowing. Sam blinks, and for a second he feels like the drawing blinks back at him. He quickly moves the sketch to the bottom of the stack and shakes his head. It's the sleep deprivation. He's not starting to see movement in traditional sketches. The next few sketches show the same man, over and over again, eyes blazing, mouth set in a thin line, exhaustion weighing down a face that could once have been called handsome. He's not the only one, though. There's a second man, tall and broad, with red hair and a dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks. He's barely recognisable in the fog that surrounds him that gets thicker with every new sketch Sam discovers. The last one is that of a man who wouldn't have looked out of place in Pride and Prejudice (as written by Cassandra Austen), with a neatly pressed collar and a cravat, as well as jewellery in the form of eyes. His grey eyes are intense, piercing Sam through the page. Sam is about to put the sketches back when a piece of paper slips, and his heart stops. The woman on the paper is a detailed pencil drawing of Celia. It's almost scary how perfect that sketch catches her likeness. Surely Gerry would have needed more than one look at her to draw her so realistically? Sam fights the wave of jealousy that wants to overtake him. It's none of his business who Celia meets in her free time. There is only that one sketch of her, and as Sam finds the last page, he's a bit disappointed to discover that there is just two sentences scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting.
The maze is sharp on my mind. The angles cut me when I try to think.
They are underlined with so much force that the pencil nearly broke through the paper. In the kitchen, the kettle turns off, and Sam quickly places the pages back in order. "Gerry," he says when his host returns, mug of tea in hand, "who are these people you sketched?" Gerry glances over his shoulder, then shrugs. "Now that you say it...I have no idea. These are from a while ago. Why, did I accidentally draw someone you know?" He says it with a smile, like it's a joke between artists. Did I accidentally draw you? Sam's gaze drifts back over the man with the glowing eyes. "I don't know," he says softly. "I don't know."
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smudgethebadbard · 1 day
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It seems people really enjoyed the last headcannon post, so I have returned, this time with headcannons for the non-romanceable characters!
I love all of the characters in this game, and have created so many little dumb ideas for them, so here ya go!
We have confirmation that Linus came from a wealthy family, but put this life aside, donating his money to various charities and organizations to help others, and I like to imagine that he still enjoys working with these charities from time to time, whether this be shelter work, environmental care, or supporting other people!
Willy never had children, but took in Elliot as his own, teaching him everything he would need to know regarding the seas, and quickly takes in Farmer as well, after learning about their love for fishing.
Gus is a trans guy! I don't have any evidence for this, but I just adore Gus so much and need this in my life.
Gunther is a long-time DM, and runs a small group with some of the local teens, and maybe some of the adults! I feel like his fascination of antiques and old treasures has assisted his DMing skills, or possibly the other way around!
Kent has learned how to sew, knit, and garden in order to get closer with Jodi and the kids once he returned to Pelican Town. (He's trying to be a better dad, he already is such a good guy :])
Mr. Qi is quite close with both Sandy and Gus, considering them friends!
Pierre was a college dropout, yet still considers himself a "man of study", I'm sorry, I just can't see this man as anything but an arrogant asshole.
The Wizard is incredibly supportive of the queer folks in the town, and Farmer, and will offer help with anything. Gender change? He's got you. Voice manipulation? He's got the stuff. Just be careful if he invites you to share a pipe!
Marlon and the Wizard are the local salty gay couple, Statler and Waldorf style, and lurk in the back during the flower dance, taking the last dance for themselves.
Pam loves thrifting and going on antiquing sprees with Harvey, and she knows how to absolutely steal a deal, girlie would most definitely punch an old woman over an auction item.
This is all I have atm, but if you want more, please let me know!! I love making stupid little theories for the glorbos. :]
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gojos-fr-bae · 2 days
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Liar pt.8
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader
Warnings: ANGSTTTT, but fluff at the end, cussing, drinking, grinding, NOT PROOFRED, i don't think there's anything else but as always lmk if there is.
Note- the italics is a flashback, actually, Satoru's entire section is a flashback from pt 7.
Word Count: 1.3K
A/N: VFYVKD. Guys, I think this might be the last part to this series😭😭😔😔 This has been a journey, thank you so much for everyone who has read this far, I truly and deeply appreciate every single one of you❤️❤️ I don't want it to endddd, so lmk if you would like me to keep writing for this au bc I would LOOVE to.
(Requests open)
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Satoru
He was beginning to feel like he was slipping. He hadn’t had a glass since the shot he took before Kaito came to spend the night with him. Although it was now night and hours since his son had left, he naively thought that he had overcome his addiction since he hadn’t felt the urge to drink the whole time he was with Kaito. 
Oh how wrong he was. He needed to get a drink and fast. He jumped into his car and began speeding to the nearest liquor store, only to find it with an eight-person line. He didn’t have the patience to wait that long and made his way to a bar. Any bar, honestly speaking, he had no idea where he even was. 
He quickly went over, ordered, and chugged five tequila shots consecutively. Once the alcohol finally kicked in, he finally began to feel like himself again. 
‘He was is disgusting. What kind of pathetic, sorry excuse of a man can’t survive without drowning himself in alcohol? How was he supposed to win you back and be a father for Kaito in such a state?’ 
These were the thoughts that ran rampant through his mind as he ordered a glass of whiskey, this time much more relaxed, seated on his stool, staring lifelessly into the endless abyss. 
He was slowly sipping his drink when he felt a pair of hands clutch his shoulders before slowly gliding down his arms. Because of his inebriated state, he wasn’t able to sense them approaching, however, he just chose to ignore, only seeming to amuse the stranger. He slowly turned his seat to face them. 
He was completely unamused when his eyes landed on a young woman clearly intent on getting into his pants. She clearly thought that she was the most beautiful girl in the room, therefore disarming a chance at him, but all he could think of was how ugly she looked in comparison to you. He just rolled his eyes, trying to go back to wallowing in self-pity. The lady just wouldn’t let up, turning around before she began grinding against him to the beat of the music. Foul, Satoru thought, feeling his patience run out.
“Get away from me you fucking slut,” he hissed, venom lacing his words as he placed his hand on her waist, trying to push her away when next thing he knows, a palm is making contact with his cheek, landing a harsh slap across his face. It was only then that he finally sensed your cursed energy. He quickly turned to face you, heart plummeting when he saw tears streaming through your face. 
Shit, he can only imagine what this looked like to you. He tried to reach out to you but you just screamed at him and ran away from him. 
He began to panic. 
His heart was racing. 
The world around him was spinning and despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t move a single inch. His vision was getting spotty and all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. He felt like he was going to vomit. 
WHY! WHY HIM, WHY NOW! WHY COULDN’T HEJUST CONTROL HIMSELF AND STOP FUCKING DRINKING! He was absolutely torturing himself in his head as he spiraled. 
He finally mustered the strength to run after you, leaving the unnamed girl where she stood, utterly confused.
He ran as fast as his legs could take him but you were nowhere to be found. 
He leapt into his car and drove as fast as the vehicle could go. He was at Jujutsu tech in about five minutes but that was the longest five minutes of his entire life. He had to get to you. He needed to explain, he needed to make sure you know that it wasn't what it looked like.
Y/N
After crying your heart out on the sidewalk, you eventually made your way back to Jujutsu Tech. You texted Shoko and asked her if she could take care of Kaito for the rest of the night. You felt so guilty for staying away from him for two nights in a row but you just couldn’t bear to have him see you like this.
Just as you were about to close the dorm door behind you, you heard running and frantic breathing approach. You didn’t even bother trying to fight Gojo as he forced his way through the door you were trying to shut.
“Y/N p-please” he took a pause, slightly hunched over as he attempted to catch his breath, “I pro- I promise it wasn’t what you looked like!” he tried to explain, clearly panicked. 
“What the fuck do you mean it’s not what it looked like, Gojo.” you questioned, putting emphasis on how you said his name. It felt like you were continuously stabbing him with a jagged dagger and he felt his knees getting weak but he couldn’t let you go, not now.
“My love please! I swear on my life it wasn’t! I wasn’t trying to do anything with her fuck! I don’t even know her name!” “Then what was it Gojo! She was grinding on you and you were FUCKING ENJOYING IT, DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME! I KNOW WHAT I SAW!!” You yelled your throat raw.
“I was trying to get her away from me! Please, believe me, I promise,” He dropped on his knees, reaching for your hands with his own shaking ones. Tears began to trickle down his face as his breathing grew heavy.
A small part of you wanted to believe it, but you were struggling. Deep down, you were telling yourself that he was telling the truth. But that was a part of you you hadn’t seen since Gojo was sealed. You survived this long without listening to it, so why start now?
“Gojo…let’s get a divorce-”
“NO! NO! BABY PLEASE! Don’t do this to me! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE, MORE THAN BREATHING, MORE THAN MYSELF MORE THAN ANYTHING! DON’T LEAVE ME-”
“Gojo you were gone for years! I LIVED WITHOUT A HUSBAND FOR YEARS! And from what it looks like, you CLEARLY didn’t feel my or Kaito’s absence! And from what it looks like, you’ve moved on-”
“BUT I HAVEN’T! I HAVEN’T! I GO TO BED HOLDING A PICTURE OF YOU CLOSE TO MY CHEST EVERY SINGLE NIGHT! I HAVE NEVER TAKEN OFF YOUR RING SINCE THE DAY I GOT BACK AND FOUND YOU GONE!” He cried, showing you your ring, which laid on his fingers. You would be lying if you said you didn’t notice it, but you just assumed that was due to how expensive it was. It would’ve been a waste to let it collect dust in a drawer.
“Y/N, you and out baby boy are the only fucking reason I wake up every day. You two are the light of my life and when I lost you. I was so distraught I even started drinking and you know better than anyone how much I hate that shit but it’s the only thing that takes my mind off of everything!”
You were now crying too, touched by what he was saying. You could see in his eyes that he meant every word and it shook you to your core. 
You stayed anchored where you stood, sobbing now as Satoru got up off his knees and took you into his arms. Hugging you as tightly as he could without breaking your ribs.
You couldn't even move. You just stood there and cried with him, feeling the weight of everything that had transpired over the past couple of years wash away.
All that grief, suffering, and pain over the past few years was washing away in your tears.
You love him.
You had pushed down your feelings for him so deep that for a moment, you forgot they were even there. But you love him, and he you, and you knew that there was know way either of you could live without each other any longer.
You love him, and he loves you, and nothing was going to change that. 
Not now, not ever.
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
The End...?
@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here, @starlightanyaaa
© gojos-fr-bae
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simplywghost · 3 days
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Warning(s): AFAB!reader, smut, not proofread
John knew how much you liked to play, he saw it in your eyes the first time you both were in the same room.
So it didn't take him long to realize what you wanted that night when he came home from work stressed and tense, his muscles ached and to tell the truth he was a little angry, despite being a fairly calm man.
"I don't want to have sex today." It was the only thing that slipped from your lips but he knew better, he could see the glint of lust in your eyes, besides... that babydoll? You only used it when you wanted to drive him crazy.
He narrowed his eyes at you and slid his jacket off his body, leaving it on the couch to approach you, his calloused hands grazing your figure, making your skin crawl. He looked you up and down, filling himself with you, inhaling your natural scent.
"You know you have to do it, it's your duty as my wife." He spoke close to your ear, his raspy voice along with his words sending a wave of heat right between your thighs and you squeezed your legs together. You loved your man, he gave you what you wanted without even having to say it once, it made you want to please him more.
"I don't need to please you." You said in a pathetic whine that made him chuckle, he sat on the arm of the couch before placing his hands on your hips to turn you around, now looking at your pretty back. Oh... you had no underwear, such a considerate wife, making it easier for him to touch your pretty cunt that was already soaking wet for him…
His hand went under that excuse of clothing you were wearing, his fingers brushing against your wetness and he shook his head, letting out a sigh almost feeling disappointed.
“Such a pretty cunt… all wet for me”. He spoke, his voice husky with need, he slid a thick finger inside you, your walls clenching around it desperately, how could you play hard to get when you were this ready for him, darling?
You caught your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent the desperate sounds that wanted to come out of your mouth, your back arching to feel his finger deeper inside you as his fingertip rubbed your g-spot.
“J-John…” He silenced you immediately, taking his finger out of you and ignoring the whimper of protest, you felt him take off his belt and let it fall, the next thing you heard was the zipper of his pants, you stayed still, stifling a moan when you felt his swollen tip brushing your folds, your clit, collecting all the slick to use it as lube.
He finally sank his length inside you, angling his hips so he could hit that sweet spot of yours, letting out a grunt that made you throb and moan like the bitch in heat you knew you were for him.
"I do not want this". You spoke breathlessly, trying not to forget the kind of role-play you were in but it was difficult when your insides took him so well, you swallowed it all in the first thrust and after that he couldn’t control himself anymore.
His hands squeezed your hips with a force that would leave you bruised the next day, but who were you to protest? "You're taking it well, baby, so well..." He spoke, almost drooling as he felt his cock slide easily in and out of your juicy pussy that seemed to be begging to be filled with his seed. The thrusts echoed throughout the room and the sound was so gross that it only made you wetter, your delicious juices that John would drink later ran down your legs and it felt so good you were going dumb, a little dumb slut for your husband who was taking you as if his life depended on it.
And he came embarrassingly fast but could you blame him? The way you moaned was enough to send him over the edge, you were the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever seen and being inside you was a pleasure he was lucky to have.
How glad he was to have you in his life…
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jqnehr · 5 hours
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❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.
boothill x fem!reader.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).
𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.
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"You look like you should be in a saloon."
The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to something secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.
He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first I heard that one."
"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."
"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."
"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"
"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."
"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"
"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."
"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."
"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"
"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"
"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the 'prize money up', if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."
"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"
"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"
You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."
"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."
"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"
He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"
You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."
He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."
"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."
"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."
"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.
"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."
"You can't swear?"
"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."
You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."
"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."
"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."
He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."
"Gotcha." You leanes your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.
"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."
"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."
Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"
"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."
He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"
You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."
"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."
You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."
"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."
You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."
He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."
"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"
He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."
So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothilk stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."
With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.
you forgot to pay the bill for your drink
so I covered it for you.
you owe me one, cowboy
His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.
Oopsies 🤭
How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?
His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.
Alright then
I want steak
Can you even eat?
You liked how he always replied fast.
Nah
But that's fine
Your company's better
Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.
Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.
Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.
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© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.
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