#the day i realized i was obsessed with calendars

[celepom]

It’s Pride 2023! Time to put up some more comic recs!

This time I’ve put together some stories about discovering one’s own queer identity, outlining a family history of queerness, and several stories where being queer isn’t the focus - queer characters are simply allowed to be.

Belle of the Ball By Mari Costa

High-school senior and notorious wallflower Hawkins finally works up the courage to remove her mascot mask and ask out her longtime crush: Regina Moreno, head cheerleader, academic overachiever, and all-around popular girl. There’s only one teensy little problem: Regina is already dating Chloe Kitagawa, athletic all-star…and middling English student. Regina sees a perfectly self-serving opportunity here, and asks the smitten Hawkins to tutor Chloe free of charge, knowing Hawkins will do anything to get closer to her. And while Regina’s plan works at first, she doesn’t realize that Hawkins and Chloe knew each other as kids, when Hawkins went by Belle and wore princess dresses to school every single day. Before long, romance does start to blossom…but not between who you might expect. With Belle of the Ball, cartoonist Mariana Costa has reinvigorated satisfying, reliable tropes into your new favorite teen romantic comedy.

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The Moth Keeper By Kay O’Neill

Anya is finally a Moth Keeper, the protector of the lunar moths that allow the Night-Lily flower to bloom once a year. Her village needs the flower to continue thriving and Anya is excited to prove her worth and show her thanks to her friends with her actions, but what happens when being a Moth Keeper isn't exactly what Anya thought it would be? The nights are cold in the desert and the lunar moths live far from the village. Anya finds herself isolated and lonely. Despite Anya's dedication, she wonders what it would be like to live in the sun. Her thoughts turn into an obsession, and when Anya takes a chance to stay up during the day to feel the sun's warmth, her village and the lunar moths are left to deal with the consequences.

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Hollow By Shannon Watters, Branden Boyer-White & Berenice Nelle

Isabel "Izzy" Crane and her family have just relocated to Sleepy Hollow, the town made famous by—and obsessed with—Washington Irving's legend of the Headless Horseman. But city slicker-skeptic Izzy has no time for superstition as she navigates life at a new address, a new school, and, with any luck, with new friends. Ghost stories aren't real, after all.... Then Izzy is pulled into the orbit of the town's teen royalty, Vicky Van Tassel (yes, that Van Tassel) and loveable varsity-level prankster Croc Byun. Vicky's weariness with her family connection to the legend turns to terror when the trio begins to be haunted by the Horseman himself, uncovering a curse set on destroying the Van Tassel line. Now, they have only until Halloween night to break it—meaning it's a totally inconvenient time for Izzy to develop a massive crush on the enigmatic Vicky. Can Izzy's practical nature help her face the unknown—or only trip her up? As the calendar runs down to the 31st, Izzy will have to use all of her wits and work with her new friends to save Vicky and uncover the mystery of the legendary Horseman of Sleepy Hollow—before it's too late. 

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Until I Meet my Husband By Ryousuke Nanasaki & Yoshi Tsukizuki

The memoir of gay activist Ryousuke Nanasaki and the first religiously recognized same-sex marriage in Japan. From school crushes to awkward dating sites to finding a community, this collection of stories recounts the author’s “firsts” as a young gay man searching for love. Dating is never ever easy, but that goes doubly so for Ryousuke, whose journey is full of unrequited loves and many speed bumps. But perseverance and time heals all wounds, even those of the heart.

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Is Love the Answer? By Uta Isaki

When it comes to love, high schooler Chika wonders if she might be an alien. She’s never fallen for or even had a crush on anyone, and she has no desire for physical intimacy. Her friends tell her that she just "hasn't met the one yet," but Chika has doubts... It's only when Chika enters college and meets peers like herself that she realizes there’s a word for what she feels inside--asexual--and she’s not the only one. After years of wondering if love was the answer, Chika realizes that the answer she long sought may not exist at all--and that that's perfectly normal.

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M Is for Monster By Talia Dutton

When Doctor Frances Ai's younger sister Maura died in a tragic accident six months ago, Frances swore she would bring her back to life. However, the creature that rises from the slab is clearly not Maura. This girl, who chooses the name "M," doesn't remember anything about Maura's life and just wants to be her own person. However, Frances expects M to pursue the same path that Maura had been on—applying to college to become a scientist—and continue the plans she and Maura shared. Hoping to trigger Maura's memories, Frances surrounds M with the trappings of Maura's past, but M wants nothing to do with Frances' attempts to change her into something she's not. In order to face the future, both Frances and M need to learn to listen and let go of Maura once and for all. Talia Dutton's debut graphic novel, M Is for Monster, takes a hard look at what it means to live up to other people's expectations—as well as our own.

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Golden Sparkle By Minta Suzumaru

Himaru Uehara’s first year of high school is off to a good start, minus one problem—he keeps having wet dreams. With only his mom and sister at home—and having skipped health class in middle school—he thinks it means there’s something wrong with him. Thankfully, a new friend has just the remedy and teaches Himaru exactly how to deal with those pesky dreams! But his solution only leads to more confusion, and the two find themselves navigating feelings they’ve never felt before.

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Thieves By Lucie Bryon

Ella can’t seem to remember a single thing from the party the night before at a mysterious stranger’s mansion, and she sure as heck doesn’t know why she’s woken up in her bed surrounded by a magpie’s nest of objects that aren’t her own. And she can’t stop thinking about her huge crush on Madeleine, who she definitely can’t tell about her sudden penchant for kleptomania… But does Maddy have secrets of her own? Can they piece together that night between them and fix the mess of their chaotic personal lives in time to form a normal, teenage relationship? That would be nice.

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Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic By Alison Bechdel

Meet Alison's father, a historic preservation expert and obsessive restorer of the family's Victorian home, a third-generation funeral home director, a high school English teacher, an icily distant parent, and a closeted homosexual who, as it turns out, is involved with his male students and a family babysitter. Through narrative that is alternately heartbreaking and fiercely funny, we are drawn into a daughter's complex yearning for her father. And yet, apart from assigned stints dusting caskets at the family-owned "fun home," as Alison and her brothers call it, the relationship achieves its most intimate expression through the shared code of books. When Alison comes out as homosexual herself in late adolescense, the denouement is swift, graphic -- and redemptive.

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She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat By Sakaomi Yuzaki

Cooking is how Nomoto de-stresses, but one day, she finds herself making way more than she can eat by herself. And so, she invites her neighbor Kasuga, who also lives alone. What will come out of this impromptu dinner invitation...?

Kasuga and Nomoto promised to spend their Christmas and New Year’s together. Now, they find themselves learning more about each other’s families through the food sent by Nomoto’s mother. Cute character bento, salmon and rice, stollen, fruit sandwiches, roast beef…Nomoto and Kasuga warm up to each other over a cheerful holiday season.  

#Pride 2023 #book rec #comic #graphic novel #autobio #fantasy #science fiction #high school #queer #lesbian #gay #asexual #intersex #bisexual #romance #book recs #pride #LGBTQIA #LGBT comic

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 15th

Day 15: Boot Worship, Spanking/Flogging/Whipping/Caning, Lactation/Breastfeeding

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Post-pregnancy, lactating, pumping, breastfeeding kink, paying to drink breast milk, drinking milk, breast play, grinding, frottage, cumming in pants

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

There are some perks to being Dieter Bravo’s assistant. As crazy as he can be and put you through stress and odd situations, he is a fairly lenient boss. When you had come to him, explaining that you wished to be a surrogate for your sister who was unable to carry a child, he was cool with it. 

Did it stop the 2AM calls because he couldn’t find his favored crocs, or didn’t remember the name of that 24-hr Mexican restaurant? No. But he let you take off for all the doctor’s appointments without too much complaint, stopped doing drugs around you since it was bad for the baby, and insisted that you have a chair on set next to his to sit down in at all times. In actuality, it was pretty sweet. 

You had planned on coming back to work right away, since the baby was immediately going to your sister from the delivery room, but Dieter had pitched a fit. Telling you that even though you didn’t have a newborn to take care of, you still needed to recover from giving birth. You had compromised, telling him that you could recover and still manage his calendar from his admittedly comfortable couch. 

You hadn’t expected the questions. Dieter is one of those enigmatic souls that there is no telling what will pique his curiosity, but you hadn’t expected it to be your breast pump. Your sister and you decided that you would pump your milk for at least the first few months, or as long as you could. 

Dieter was obsessed. Like a kid with a new toy, you found him playing with the pumps. There were two that you could wear inside your nursing bra to let you pump while you just went about your day. Removing them and draining them into the storage bags as needed and putting them right back on. 

He was staring at your breasts, frowning slightly as he looked away and then looked back at them. As if he was figuring something out. Until you realized he was trying to decide if you had the pumps on or not. He kept muttering to himself, shaking his head and walking out of the room abruptly. You would think that he was on drugs again, except you haven’t ordered any from his regular supplier in nearly two months. 

So it’s a complete surprise when you are sitting on the couch, nearly two months after you have given birth and settled back into your routines with Dieter that he plops down on the sofa beside you. “How much would I need to pay you to drink your milk?” 

Freezing, your jaw hits the ground in shock. Immediately flustered and wondering what the hell is he talking about. Drinking your milk? He wants to taste it? Pour it into his cereal? What?

“Dee, what? What the fuck are you-”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He groans, shuffling closer and staring at you with wide, pleading eyes before his gaze drops down to your breasts and he groans. His hand moves down to his crotch, almost covering himself like he’s trying to hide something before he grabs a pillow and shoves it in his lap. “Please, I - fuck, I’ll give you a thousand dollars. Give me….two ounces.” 

“Dieter…” 

“Two, all I’m asking for is two. The baby can spare that, right? You’ve been pumping like 80 ounces a day, right? Around that?” His tone is slightly whiny, begging like he always does when he really, really wants something. 

It shocks you that he’s aware of how many ounces of breastmilk you are pumping. That means that he’s got to be looking in the freezer. You’ve been storing it here since you are here more than your own house and having it sent over to your sister’s.

“You want to buy two ounces of my breast milk to drink?” You ask, wanting to make sure you understand what the fuck your boss is asking you. “For a thousand dollars.” 

“Two, two thousand.” Dieter ups the price, biting his lip and swallowing harshly. “A thousand dollars an ounce. Please, I know it’s weird, I know that I shouldn’t ask, but please, please just let me have some.” 

His eyes are earnest, begging you. Almost more intense than the first time he has if you would have sex with him. Finally finding something he wants more than sex. 

“I don’t know…” 

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He rushes out, his face twisted in embarrassment but Dieter has no shame when there is something that he wants. He’s willing to humiliate himself as long as self-gratification for whatever he is obsessing over happens. “Drinking it, sipping it. Swallowing it down. Knowing that it is supposed to feed me. Feed a baby, I mean. It’s natural. The most natural food a man can have.” He justifies it, always good at finding reasons for why he needs to have what he wants. “It fucking- fuck, baby, it fucking turns me on. The idea of drinking your milk.” 

You can tell he wasn’t supposed to say that. From the way he immediately snaps his mouth shut and recoils from you, like you are going to reach out and slap him. Maybe you should slap him. It’s a slappable offense, but you aren’t. 

“Two thousand dollars, for a chance to drink two ounces of milk?” You don’t dismiss the idea, or slap him and that makes Dieter perk up. Immediately nodding, making his disheveled hair wave eagerly. 

“Yeah. Please?” He begs again. “I promise I won’t ask you to sleep with me again or go get my coffee. Ohhhh your milk in coffee.” You watch as he rolls his eyes back in his head at the thought, the pillow being crammed against his lap even more and you huff. 

“How many times have you jerked off thinking about drinking my milk, Dee?” You demand, making your boss nearly cringe at the question. 

Ducking his head and turning a range of mottled reds in mortification, he mumbles too quietly for you to hear. “- times a day.” 

“What?” 

He mumbles again. “-day.” 

“I can’t hear you.” 

“Seven or eight times a day!” Dieter finally shouts, grabbing the pillow from his lap and shoving it over his face to scream into it while your brows shoot up in surprise. You know Dieter has a high sex drive, but you never imagined he could go that many times. 

While he is having his fit, you think about it for a moment. It’s two thousand dollars and you’d rather your boss ask you to drink your milk than some random pregnant lady on the street. You wouldn’t put it past him. Despite his tendencies, Dieter is actually pretty respectful. He doesn’t push when he’s rejected and if you say no, you know that he will be disappointed but he won’t get angry. 

You aren’t wearing the pumps, thank goodness, so it’s easy to manage when you pull away the pillow from your boss's face and straddle his thighs, putting your milk filled tits in his face. 

“I- what are you-” Dieter chokes out, eyes wide and fixed on the tops of your tits, wanting to touch you but this wasn’t what he asked for. 

“You don’t want to drink straight from the source?” You ask innocently. 

The fact that you are on his lap makes you fully aware that Dieter’s cock is hard. Letting you feel the way that it jumps when you ask if he wants to drink from you. Not hiding his love of the idea even a little bit. 

He groans, tearing his eyes away from your breasts to look up into your eyes. “Yeah? Really?” He asks, still not touching you, but his hands are hovering over your hips, wanting to settle on them. “I- you would let me do that?” 

“You can’t squeeze them.” You caution. “They are tender, and sore a lot of the time. But if you want to, you can nurse, suck the milk from my tits and drink it down.” It was good timing, because you were going to have to pump anyway. 

“But I-” He seems to be completely stumped as to why you would offer more. No one ever offers more when he is desperate enough to pay for what he wants. “I’ll be careful.” He promises, leaning forward to nuzzle into your bosom and inhale the slightly milky scent of your skin. 

You feel the way he twitched under you. That admittedly impressive cock throbbing against your core in a way that you hadn’t thought about before this moment. He’s hard because of you. Because of this infatuation with your tits, your milk. 

Those hands that you had worried would be carelessly eager are almost timid. Asking if he can take off your shirt, or if you would prefer to just lower your shirt. You explain that it feels better to just lower your shirt and he quickly agrees. His fingers almost worshipful as he gently pulls your breasts out, taking your warning to heart as he positions them in his face and gets his first good look at your hard nipples and burgeoning jugs. 

“Oh god. I just want to…” he lunges forward and snuggles his face between the breasts he is holding almost reverently. Nearly motorboating you but just breathing deep. “Fuuuuuuuck.” He hisses, throbbing even more underneath you and you swear that you feel a bit of wetness transfer from his sweats to your leggings. 

You wrap your arms around him, for stability, for a lack of places to hold onto him, bringing him closer and you feel him sigh into your skin. As if he has found a place he wants to stay. 

It’s not too long before he wants more. His lips move along your skin in a surprisingly romantic scattering of kisses, as if you were his lover. 

His arms slowly slide around you as he kisses around your nipple, tilting his head down, and he groans when the warm, wetness of his lips wrap around a hard nipple to pull it into his mouth. 

Dieter’s hips rock up, grinding up into yoh and he twitches harshly when he tugs on the nipple, letting the first spurt of milk hit his tongue. His groan is so loud, almost pained, it covers the gasp that you give at the sensation.

It’s so different from the pump. Warmer, wetter. More intense as he starts to suckle eagerly. Gulping down mouthfuls of milk as fast as he can while dragging you closer, making you grind down on his cock from the movement. 

You get lost in the feeling of it all. His cock hard and throbbing under you. Pressing against your sensitive clit as your hips rock. The subtly erotic sensation of his whiskers against your skin. Eagerly letting him switch from breast to breast as he drinks you down. 

Dieter drinks more than two ounces, far more than you had agreed on, but neither one of you pulls away, even trying to stop. He’s gorging himself on the warm, slightly sweet milk in great, greedy gulps, groaning as he swallows. 

You don’t realize you are about to cum until you do. Stiffening in his arms, you push your breast into his mouth more as your back arches, a harsh cry escaping your lips. Pleasure washing over you in waves, and you don’t realize that Dieter is moaning your name. Rocking his hips up harshly to keep the friction going until he’s throbbing against your core. The warmth of his cum coating the inside of his sweats as he cums in his pants, drunk off your breast milk. 

“Holy shit.” You pant as he pulls away, milk drunk and softening underneath you as he swallows one last time. 

“Fuck, baby.” He groans. “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo imagine

[weebsinstash]

fuck my life but I realized if you make a venn diagram of "all the different ideas I've had for yandere Valentino" with "shit Mammon would probably do or has already done canonically" it would basically be a fucking circle and I haaaaaate that because now it means this selfish australian bastard is under my radar

You damage something when you fall into Hell and be stuck in servitude, working off paying the bill? Uhhhh obviously the greedy money scam guy would do that! Tack on extra bullshit charges like late fees, or charging you more than the damage is worth? Definitely just an excuse to keep you around longer.

Grifting pervert who will exploit you for cash? Mam and Val are brothers in arms. You could be working for Mammon as like A JANITOR and one day this fucking clowning hustler pops up, "oi so, remember that employee contract I had ya sign? So, about that fine print--" and you find out you accidentally like CONTRACTUALLY AGREED to giving him your likeness, and he's been fucking sexbots of you on the fly, just, shamelessly. Is he even selling them for profit? No. They're just for him. Tells you to your face. Lets ya see em. Acts like you're full of shit and tweekin if you even mildly insinuate this means he wants to fuck you and the robots are just a placeholder, that's ridiculous, shut the fuck up, you're uggo, why would he want you

Abusive alcoholic misogynistic pigs who will cut you down and take shots at your self esteem to neg you into obedience? Literally fucking canon. Valentino did it constantly on the Instagram accounts and also does it in the Angel Dust comic, and we saw how Mammon treats Fizz

Both of them would call you a cunt although for wildly different reasons lmao

Absolutely always walking the mental tightrope of "would they pimp you out just for cash and maybe the cuckoldry of it or keep you to themselves" but I think on the off chance Mammon decided to "advertise" you, he would be EXCESSIVE with it. Whatever would make money, but, he's, also totally using it to make and do things for hinself. Sex bots, dirty magazines, photo catalogs, calendars, lingerie lines, ridiculous unrelated sponsorships. You're over here absolutely humiliated while he's thoroughly enjoying his new collection of naughty memorabilia of you. Honestly either of them could do this honestly. I've even thought of the hilarious alternative where shit of you doesn't even sell but Val/Mam/Ozzie whomever decides to keep peddling it anyways because they're obsessed with their baby and they want to show em off to everyone with eyes that can see em

and who can forget the classic... "oh, you just died, poor baby ;) well I could give you a place to sleep for the night, but ;) you'd have to ;) earn it ;)" and whatever you do that night becomes potential blackmail

If I had a nickel for every time there was an abusive perverted four armed creep who exploits their workers for money and sex down in Hell, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it sure is kinky it happened twice

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #yandere helluva boss #yandere x reader #ughhhh the 19th cannot come soon enough #sinprompts

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 3

Part 2 / AO3 Link

After school practices for the Thanksgiving performance was only for the students who wanted to put a little more time into it. Apparently a bulk of the rehearsal happened during their music class and that made sense. Still, Steve was glad to put a face to some of the kids his son mentioned. The first night there had been a girl who's lip trembled at the slightest upset and Steve knew that had to be Yasmin.

"She's a crybaby who cries over everything", Shawn had said one time.

"Hm, need I remind you of all the times you've cried? Why I remember just last week-"

"We don't need to talk about that", Shawn said, properly chastised.

Even so, Steve could see how it could get a little frustrating to be in a class with someone as sensitive as that. And yet, Mr. Munson never let on that he was frustrated or anything like that. Every time the tears came, he talked her down. Which was quite the feat since he had probably been doing it for eight hours at this point.

"You're really good with the kids", Steve complimented when Mr. Munson took a seat near them to rest.

Third grade was working on their performance piece on the stage now while the smaller kids got a break. Mr. Munson smiled a bit as he scratched at his head.

"Yeah, well, patience is key, as I'm sure you know. Actually, how old are the kids you teach?", he asked.

"Middle school", Steve answered, laughing a little when he saw the other teacher's eyes get wide in fear.

"Braver than any marine, I swear. I will take spilt milk tears over the raging hormones going on over there."

Steve's brain decided to highlight the word 'hormones' which made him delayed in his response. He cleared his throat to try and cover it up. "It's not as bad as all that. I've got the babies of middle school, the sixth graders, but don't tell them I said that. And I'm lucky I've got a group there that's absolutely obsessed with science."

He met Mr. Munson's eyes and was met with a million watt smile. One that he knew was on his own face too.

"That's the best feeling, ain't it? When they wanna soak up as much as you can give?"

"The best", Steve agreed. It wasn't always candy and roses but it was all worth it for those days when everything just clicked. "Speaking of passions, did you get that approval for your ideas for the show?"

"They said I could play guitar, but they vetoed my pyrotechnics idea."

That night, Mr. Munson walked him and Shawn back to their car. And as such, became a routine for two days out of the week. Through it all, Steve commended himself for only drooling a little over him and only when he was alone.

At home, one Saturday, Shawn was humming his class' song while Steve made them lunch. He looked to the calendar and realized the show would be that coming Monday. Well, he knew that but it hit him that in less than a week, Thanksgiving break would start and then there wouldn't be much of a reason for him to see Mr. Munson anymore.

Just as the thought came to him, he looked at the school events calendar he had put in his phone and saw that there would be a Winter Dance but that it was for 4th and 5th grade only. He held back a sigh. Oh well, maybe if he got particularly antsy, he could schedule a confere-no, nononono.

He wasn't going to waste a teacher's time over nothing. Just because, what? He wanted to see him?

He said as much when he talked to Robin the next day. They were sitting in his living room, Shawn was up in his room, reading on this lazy Sunday.

"So, you're just going to avoid him?"

"It's not avoiding. I'm just not going to go out of my way to seek him out", Steve clarified. "And maybe this little crush", he whispered the word 'crush' like tiny ears were listening, "will die down."

"Mhm", Robin nodded, unconvinced. "You know they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?"

Steve leaned back against the couch. "There's at least one absence I'm not missing."

"...Don't tell me this is all because of him?"

"It's not because of him but...", Steve's eyes traveled to where Shawn's baby book sat on a bookshelf. Inside were the only pictures of Shawn's sire. And honestly, Steve wouldn't even have those if it were up to him. But he wanted to leave the door open just for when Shawn got older and could decide how much he wanted that man in his life.

"I don't think Mr. Munson is anything like him. Of course I don't. But I can't make a mistake like that again. If Shawn got hurt, I could never forgive myself."

Robin gave him a pat on the leg. "If you really think it's for the best."

It was. Steve knew that what was on the surface could be hiding something ugly underneath. He wasn't going to expose him or his pup to anything like that again. Mr. Munson was nice but these feelings weren't deep enough to swim in. Steve was barely getting his toes wet. He would stay high and dry and then Shawn would go on to second grade and then he would only see Mr. Munson in passing, if that.

Steve had all these affirmations in mind as he settled in to see Shawn's performance Monday. Planning ahead, Steve had told his school a couple weeks ago that he had a doctor appointment and wouldn't be coming in until later. Just long enough to pop in and see Shawn sing. As he had planned and rehearsed, Mr. Munson sat on a stool to one side of the stage, acoustic guitar in his lap.

It was all the school would allow and seeing as the kids' singing voices weren't super strong, it was for the best. Steve recorded the act, phone focused on Shawn while every once in a while, his eyes drifted to Mr. Munson.

After the song, Steve waved to Shawn, who waved back. He had told him ahead of time that he'd have to go back to work after seeing him, so that his son wouldn't be disappointed. When they saw each other at home later, Shawn's adrenaline from the day hadn't waned.

"So a lot of the other kids' parents took them home, so Mr. Munson let some of us play with his guitar!"

"Did he now?", Steve smiled.

"Uh-huh. He even taught us how to play. Do you think he teaches guitar?"

"Would you like some lessons?", Steve asked.

"Only if Mr. Munson is teaching it. He makes everything so cool."

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

Steve watched as Shawn ran ahead to go into the corn maze. Most of the corn was gone, so he wasn't worried about him getting lost as Robin went to get them hot ciders. Shawn scurried through the maze when he found someone familiar.

Robin had come back with two ciders that she and Steve sipped on while Shawn made his way through the maze.

"Dad! Look who's here!"

Steve looked up, expecting to see one of his little friends. Not Mr. Munson.

Not Mr. Munson in ripped jeans and a leather jacket.

Not Mr. Munson in ripped jeans and a leather jacket with chunky rings and his hair let loose, spilling over his shoulders.

"Dad look! It's Mr. Munson! Dad?"

"Mr. Munson! What a surprise!", Robin came in for the save while Steve was speechless. She gave him a subtle nudge that really wasn't all that subtle but that was okay because Mr. Munson was having his own crisis.

Because here was Mr. Harrington, enjoying a harvest festival, shoulder to shoulder with a beautiful alpha woman.

"H-hey, didn't expect to run into you here", Mr. Munson stuttered.

"Me neither", Steve said, voice a little breathless. He cleared it and remembered himself. "This is Robin, she's my neighbor. Robin, this is Shawn's teacher."

"Heard so much about you", Robin grinned.

Steve wanted to kick her in the shin.

"Hey, Shawn, how's about we go and pick out a pumpkin or something?", Robin suggested, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the other two, leaving them alone.

Mr. Munson looked like a deer caught in headlights and Steve couldn't blame him.

"Jesus, she couldn't be anymore obvious."

"Did you want to talk to me about something, Mr. Harrington?"

"No, I didn't. But, I think...I think we should have this conversation anyway." Steve ran a hand through his hair.

They went to a little sitting area the farm had set up near the food booths so that they could talk. Eddie's mind ran a mile a minute, thinking of what this could be about. Both good and bad. He'd gotten a hot chocolate both to keep his hands warm and to give him something to do with said hands. Hands that Mr. Harrington was staring at right now.

"I um", he shook his head and pushed a lock of hair behind his ear. "I just wanted to-god this is hard."

"Well, let's make it easier", Eddie said. "Is it about Shawn? Is he having problems in school?"

"No, it's not about that. It's about us-I mean, there is no us but I-goddammit", Steve hissed, cheeks getting red in embarrassment. He let out a breath. "Mr. Munson, I'm having..." don't say feelings don't say feelings don't say feelings "-sensations, that aren't entirely professional. About you."

"Oh."

"And I know nothing can come of it, but I just want you to know that, to know that I'm aware of them and if I ever come on, I guess too strong, please just let me know."

"Um, for how long?", Eddie asked, hoping he wasn't vibrating in his seat because it sure did feel that way.

"Uhh, pretty much since I first met you", Mr. Harrington admitted. "And I don't know if it's because you've been looking after me and Shawn when we walk back to the car, or if it's something else but you just smell...you feel safe. And it's hard for me not too....", he trailed off, voice getting soft.

He didn't know how much that meant to Eddie. His first year of teaching, Eddie had gone on scent blockers, not wanting to overwhelm the little noses in his room. But one day he'd forgotten and things just seemed to run more smoothly when they could get a whiff of him. For Mr. Harrington to say his scent made him feel safe...

"It hasn't exactly been easy for me either", Eddie finally said. "Me too, since that first day I... But you already said nothing can come from it."

There was a hesitant look in Mr. Harrington's eyes. "Well, you know, why not?"

"Why...not?", Eddie echoed.

"I have my personal reasons for not pursuing this, but they mostly involve Shawn. If he doesn't know about it, I mean if we can hide it from most people, you won't get in trouble with the school. And we won't, you know get Shawn's hopes up if it doesn't become serious."

"Why, Mr. Harrington, are you propositioning me?" Honestly, Eddie didn't give a flying fuck what this principal thought about his private life. At the end of the day, it really was just Shawn he was worried about. He didn't know what happened to the other half of his DNA, but he knew that kids with only one parent sometimes longed for a second. He couldn't make Shawn think that was him unless this was the real deal. And he wouldn't know that for sure if he didn't give this a try.

"For starters, when we're not on school grounds, you can call me Steve."

"Eddie."

"Eddie, would you like to go out with me sometime?"

Steve's face was a mix of hopeful and confident that Eddie wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon. "I'd love to."

Part 4

There is absolutely some angst with Steve's baby daddy comin down the line. I came up with it where I come up with all my best ideas, half asleep when I wake up in the morning.

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @hippieg1rl420 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

[ametrictonofaudacity]

yandere platonic supes I am BEGGIBG, there’s not enough yandere platonic Superman I am starved for content, blease

Yes absolutely!!! I am also starved for Yan platonic Superman, so we would get along well!!

Shout out to @blughxreader and @anxiousnerdwritings for so much of my inspiration, and if you like yandere dc works, you should check them out!!

Yandere Platonic Superman x GN! Reader

Warning: This is a yandere work, and as such, has themes of obsession and captivity! Because this is Superman, it’s a much milder work than usual!

“Hey! How was your day?” Warm, almost inhumanly hot, arms, wrap you up into a tight hug, and you blink in shock. You hadn’t even heard him get home, much less approach, and although it makes your heart race, you feel your nerves begin to settle.

“Good! I got to work on the garden I’ve been wanting to start.” You motion to the freshly filled earth, the hard dirt clods having been broken up. “Still have to mix the gardening soil in, and the fertilizer.”

“You did really good! I think we should head inside though, you’re starting to look a little parched.” You sigh, but nod, brushing the sweaty hair out of your face. Mr. Kent beams, stepping back from the hug, ruffling your hair gently. You try to ignore the way your heart leaps into your throat, or his concerned glance.

“So what about you? How’d your day go?” You mumble, trekking up to the tiny farm house in the distance. Mr.Kent keeps pace easily, the wind tugging gently on his red cape.

“It was good! There wasn’t much for me to do today, although one of the supports on the Golden Gate Bridge gave out. Me and few other heroes got that sorted fairly quickly, and no one got hurt.” You knew, logically, that he accomplished more in one day than teams upon teams of first responders could ever manage in a week, but being confronted with the knowledge caused a strange sort of dissonance. He had always just been Mr. Kent. Nice, a bit clumsy, willing to help you and your folks when you needed it. Always wearing a button up or sometimes a flannel when he visited, with the strange sort of softness to his accent that you knew happened when someone moved to the city. You hadn’t known him well, but had been close enough to invite him for Thanksgiving when you had heard he wasn’t spending it with his family.

Maybe that was your mistake. Maybe you wouldn’t be here, on a plot of land in the middle of nowhere, if you had just let him stay lonely.

You blink when you realize the farmhouse is much closer.

“I’ll get changed and make us some dinner, okay?” A hand smooths over your hair, and you smile. If he was cooking dinner, that meant you had time to shower, and get the dirt and grime off you.

“Okay.” You murmur, and he beams, the screen door closing behind the both of you. “I’m not allowed to use the stove anyways.” You mutter after him. You know he hears you, but he doesn’t respond, the door to his room closing behind him.

You take your time showering, and changing into the soft, clean pajamas that he had bought you so long ago they were beginning to wear, and gray at the cuffs. He would wait for you to eat, you knew, and he never pestered you unless he was worried about your safety. Which was pretty often, admittedly, but he had been getting better about not constantly fretting.

“Hey, kiddo! I made your favorite.” He grins, and the smell of warm food drifts up, making your stomach growl hungrily. He presses the plate into your hands. “Figured we could do something special, since today’s such a special day.”

You frown, tilting your head, even as you tried to remember. There weren’t any calendars in the house, and the only passing of time you were aware of most times was the rising of the sun.

“It is?” You question, taking a bite of your food. It melts on your tongue, and you glance at the rest of the house, frowning.

Your stomach drops when you realize. There’s four perfectly wrapped presents on the small coffee table in front of the couch, and a cake from your favorite bakery. There’s also a pie, which you know was made by Ma Kent.

You look back. Mr. Kent looks almost sad, and when he speaks, his voice is gentle, sympathetic.

“It’s your birthday, kiddo. I was thinking, since you’ve been so good lately, we could do something special.”

“Like what?” Your voice cracks, but he doesn’t say anything. You don’t know if your grateful or not.

“Well, I know you’ve been working really hard in that garden of yours. And since you’ve been so good lately, I was thinking we could go to visit a greenhouse! Spend a couple days out and about, so you can get out of the farmhouse every once and while.”

You stare. You hadn’t been allowed off the property in.. months. Five, nearly six. The prospect was exhilarating. And terrifying.

“Really?! When are we going?” You try not to sound to excited, but you must fail, because he chuckles.

“Easy there, slow your roll. We’ll be going at the end of the week. Now, finish your food so we can open presents, yeah?”

The food is tasteless after that. It’s good, sure, but that pales in comparison to how your heart hammers with adrenaline and excitement. You were finally, finally getting off the property! And if you couldn’t escape then, you could escape later, and maybe even go home.

Soon, you’re both finished eating, and he herds you to the couch, pulling out a camera from its case. It’s an expensive digital one, the one you know he used for work.

“You know you can just use your phone camera, right?” You point out, and he chuckles.

“Call me old fashioned. Let me get it set up, and then cake and presents.” It takes him less than a minute to set it up, the motions experienced and practiced. “You ready?”

You nod. He lights the candles on the small bakery cake.

It’s the strangest birthday you’ve ever had. Mr. Kent is the only one singing the birthday song, and you’ve always had a large family with a lot of siblings. When you blow out the candles, he doesn’t let you eat the frosting off them, instead plucking them off and setting them on a ceramic plate.

Your presents are odd, too. You were used to useless, impartial presents. This wasn’t that. He had gotten you the dvd copy of your favorite TV series, a set of hardback books, a new outfit, and a telescope, all neatly wrapped in blue wrapping paper.

“The outfit is for when we go out.” He explains, watching as you unfold the blue button up. “We’re going to be visiting Lois, so I figured you would want to look nice.”

Your heart skitters in your chest, unsure. You hadn’t met Ms. Lane yet, he had always insisted you weren’t ready, but now not only were you leaving the property but you would also be meeting his wife.

“I do. Thank you.” You finally murmur, and he wraps you up into another hug, holding you a moment longer than he usually did.

“Of course. Why don’t you try some of your cake and I’ll clean this up, yeah?”

You watch as he cleans up, nibbling on the sweet treat, and when he is finally done, he sets aside all of your presents, putting in the dvd. You shift on the couch, used to this old routine, and when he sits on the couch, curl up next to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and bury his nose in your hair with a smile.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

This Love Came Back to Me (7)

Summary: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: second chance romance, language, allusions of smut and potential full smut, stalking, unhealthy obsessions, delusions of feelings, unwanted attention.

Part Seven Word Count: 5.1K

Part Six :: Series Masterlist

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You were slow to get up on Monday morning. Your body was reluctant to move from beneath the covers, your mind even more so. The dread of the week ahead had already settled in your stomach before your eyes had even fluttered open. 

Something told you that it was going to be a bad day, and as you got ready for work, that thought grew stronger and stronger. You had used the wrong moisturizer, and then had gotten toothpaste on your black blouse and had to change. You spilled your favorite hard-to-find coffee creamer, and to top it off, you couldn’t find your favorite necklace that you wore more often than you didn’t. You were almost positive you had put it on the jewelry plate on your dresser last night like you always did, but it was nowhere to be found this morning. A quick check behind the dresser and in the drawers proved no luck, and it wasn’t on your bathroom counter, either. You wondered if maybe you had left it at Bradley’s on accident, but you swore you had been wearing it when you came home. 

Nerves prickled at your skin once you left your house, growing steadily the closer you got to the office. You prolonged going in for as long as you could, sitting in the car until the very last minute before you forced yourself inside and up the elevator. You breathed a sigh of relief when you noticed you were the last one to make it in and everyone else was already focused on what they were doing. You don’t bother with any pleasantries as you start toward your desk - your very flower and coffee free desk, as it was. 

As you did every morning, you checked your calendar to remind yourself what was on the agenda for the day. You swallowed thickly when you noticed a calendar invite with your boss that definitely hadn’t been there when you left on Friday. Glancing down at the clock in the corner of your screen, you cursed under your breath and shot to your feet. 

You paused outside of Gretchen’s door once you got to it, taking a second to catch your breath from your mad dash from your desk before knocking. Her voice was clipped when she told you to come in. 

“Good morning,” you greeted, forcing as much chipperness into your tone as possible. Your boss didn’t have the same courtesy and barely looked up from her computer screen.

“I need you to pick up the Randolph and Jackson accounts while Deana is out the next few weeks. There should be notes in her files. I need some preliminary drafts to present to them by the end of the day.” 

Anxiety formed in your stomach at having something else thrown on your already very full plate. You truly were at capacity with your workload. Normally, you would grin and bear it.  But you had stopped interpreting her giving you more as her trusting you a while ago. You knew it was just a power play and too high blind expectations to follow it on her part. 

“Am I being partnered with someone on this?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Like who?” 

“Lauren? Or maybe Joey, or Shante?” you listed off anyone you could think of. The clicking of Gretchen’s keyboard halted as she stopped typing, finally looking up at you from her spot behind the cluttered desk. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. 

“Can you not handle the extra work?” 

“Well, I-” 

“I was going to partner you with Paul,” she said, and the stress you were feeling deepened, your skin crawling at even the thought. “But because of the open HR investigation you insisted upon, I was advised against it. So unless you want to drop that, you’ll be handling these solos. You wanted more responsibility anyway, didn’t you?” 

It took all of your willpower not to flinch. She didn’t bother trying to hide her opinion on the matter, her words laced with disdain and sarcasm. You felt scolded and embarrassed at how she was blatantly judging you, and feeling that way in turn made you angry, too. You had no reason to feel those things - you had done nothing wrong, here. You remembered what Bradley had told you. He was insistent that this wasn’t your fault. Deep down you knew he was right, even if it took you some time to reach him there. You knew that it wasn’t fair that you were being looked at and spoken to this way, by your boss, nonetheless. 

You breathed in deeply, silently centering yourself. You didn’t like confrontation, but you hated being belittled even more. You cleared your throat and stood a little bit taller, squaring your shoulders. 

“I won’t be dropping it.” 

“Are you sure?” she asked, and you’d be blind not to see the challenge written all over her face. You couldn’t believe that once upon a time, when you first started at this company, you admired this woman. 

“I’m positive,” you stated. You were so glad that your voice didn’t shake, because you were trembling on the inside. You continued on before you lost your nerve, the words rushing out of you once they started. “It was within my rights just like it would be within anyone else’s. So I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t ask me things like that, or imply that I’m being punished for standing up for myself by forcing me to handle the work of an additional person on my own, when I'm already doing the work of two people on a regular basis. That’s retaliation. And it’s not okay, nor is it fair.” 

Gretchen’s expression was one of surprise, no doubt shocked at the backbone you had suddenly grown in response to her. She wasn’t used to people questioning her authority, or anything that she did, really. You hadn’t seen a single person challenge or talk back to her the whole time you’ve worked together. You were probably the last one she expected to break the streak, but god, you were so damn tired.   

“Well then,” her voice dripped in sarcasm when she finally spoke, “I see someone paid attention to the policies in the employee handbook.” 

“It’s not a policy,” you corrected without skipping a beat, “It’s a law.” 

She stared at you for a long, tense moment. Slowly, you watched as her face morphed into something colder. Her lips curled into a sneer and her hazel eyes narrowed. Her thin arms folded over her chest as she leant back in her chair. But you refused to squirm under her glare, instead meeting it head on. 

Gretchen was the first to cave, whether it be because she sensed you weren’t going to or because she knew she was in the wrong. You weren’t sure, and frankly, you didn’t care. 

Her blonde hair swayed when she shook her head in your direction, a poorly contained scoff leaving her mouth as she returned her attention to the computer screen, resuming the typing she was doing before you got here. “I expect the information needed for the Randolph account on my desk by the end of the day,” she said, “I’ll have someone else work on Jackson. Get to work, and shut my door on the way out.” 

There’s more you could have said - more that you wanted to say. But you knew a dismissal when you heard one, and you had pushed the boundaries further than you ever had before. And truthfully, you were desperate to be out of her presence. You spun on your heel and left her office without another word. In a split second show of defiance, you didn’t close the door all the way like she had requested. You heard her call after you, but you kept walking. 

Oh my God, you thought. You couldn’t believe you had just done that.  

You glanced at your phone when you got back to your desk and saw a text waiting for you. Based on the timestamp, it must have arrived shortly after you had shot up to go to the last minute meeting. 

Bradley🐓✈️❤️:Going up in the air soon. How’s work? 

Your hands shook as you typed out a message in return. The adrenaline from your anger still pulsed in your veins, but you could feel yourself coming down from it, your nerves starting to buzz under your skin instead.

Cross your fingers that I get responses on applications this week, because I might be getting fired. 

To your surprise, the dots that indicated Bradley started typing back popped up almost immediately. You breathed a sigh of relief that he still had his phone on him, because you needed some sort of interaction right now that wasn’t from people in this office. 

Bradley🐓✈️❤️:What?

You gave him the short version of your interaction as a headache started forming at your temples. You dug around in your bag until you found the bottle of ibuprofen you kept there, swallowing the pills down quickly with a sip of your coffee. 

Bradley🐓✈️❤️:That’s my girl. I’m proud of you, baby.  

You had a tendency to cry when you were angry, something you hated because it made you feel weak, and combined with the stress and the sweetness of the words, you weren’t all that surprised when you felt the tears prick the back of your eyes. You took a deep breath and chewed your bottom lip, fighting to keep them at bay. 

You were at your desk in the middle of the office and you refused to let these people see you cry.  

You tried to think of something to say in return. Three words flashed in your mind, your fingers itching to type them for the briefest of moments before you push them away. You didn’t think you could handle trying to figure out those emotions right now. You must have taken too long, because your boyfriend was sending another message before you could reply at all. 

Bradley🐓✈️❤️: Heading up now. Don’t worry about work. None of those people are worth it. 

It was exactly what you needed to be told in that moment, and your heart swelled for this man. You wished you were with him now. 

Let me know when you’re safely back on planet earth, please. Fly safe, aviator❤️

____

You weren’t naive enough to think finally standing up to Gretchen would solve all of your problems. You also didn’t expect to become something of an office pariah by lunch that day though, either. 

It seemed that suddenly everyone knew what had happened not only with Gretchen, but with Paul, and about the multiple complaints you had filed against him. You felt the stares and heard the whispers, not having to try hard to accomplish either because no one was going out of their way to hide it. Judgment came off of people in waves, making you feel like the worst kind of center of attention. You were hot and itchy with discomfort. 

It was a struggle to stay focused to hit the deadlines you had, and when you emailed everything over to Gretchen a little bit after 5:00, the immediate response you got was her informing you that you were ten minutes late, and that a deadline for another client that you normally handled was moved to tomorrow. Every part of you wanted to respond by telling her that would have been nice to know in advance and so it sounded like a her problem. But the client in question was someone you genuinely enjoyed working with. They were always so good to you, and you didn’t want to let them down because of Gretchen’s thoughtlessness of telling you this last week. You gritted your teeth, wishing you would have listened to Bradley when he suggested taking off of work. 

By Thursday, you felt like you were going to crawl out of your skin. The whispers had turned to full fledged talking now, people vocally making it clear that they didn’t believe you and weren’t on your side. The rumors that floated around were starting to get vicious. Each one was more outlandish than the one before. They made the days longer, each minute feeling like an hour, and considering you hadn’t left earlier than 8pm due to the extra work given to you, you felt like you were slowly but surely losing your mind; you didn’t know how much more of it you could take. 

To make matters worse, you hadn’t seen Bradley all week, though not for a lack of trying. You missed him. Your nightly phone calls were one of the only things getting you through, and last night you had been so tired that his voice had lulled you to sleep barely 10 minutes into the call. Your phone was below 10%, but you could have cried when you woke up and saw that the line was still connected. Bradley hadn’t hung up, and he was there when you called out for him. When you switched the call to Facetime, you could see he was getting ready for work, his uniform already on and a toothbrush in his mouth. 

“Morning, beautiful.” 

You could practically feel the bags under your eyes, and you knew your hair was all over the place. You didn’t feel very beautiful right now, but you smiled at him anyway, the compliment making you feel warmer than the blankets you were still laying under. 

“Good morning. I don’t want to get up,” you groaned pathetically, burrowing yourself further into the pillow under your head. Bradley chuckled lightly, but didn’t say anything as he finished brushing his teeth. When you forced your heavy eyes back open, the thoughtful, contemplative look he was giving you reflected through the screen. His brown eyes were full of something that your tired mind thought was worry. “What?” you asked quietly. 

“I’m going to come see you tonight,” he said. “I’m tired of things getting in the way. I want to see my girl. I don’t want to wait until the weekend again.” 

The early morning rasp in his voice made you shiver. Your heart raced in anticipation, suddenly feeling a little bit more awake. You weren’t going to point out that the weekend would have just been one extra day at this point, because truly, you felt the exact same way. “I’d like that.” 

You told him you’d do everything in your power to leave as close to 5pm as you could, and he promised the same in regard to leaving the base. You had stayed on the phone for as long as you could before hanging up. In the beginning of the day, thinking about seeing him had been the only thing getting you through. But by the middle of the afternoon, the snide comments and judgy looks from people had consumed you. 

You knew you were strong, and you did everything you could to remind yourself that they were just words, and that these people meant nothing to you. But god, you could only handle so much. 

Your last meeting of the day was a departmental one with your whole team, Paul included. You sat as far away from him as you possibly could and avoided eye contact, though you could feel his, as well as everyone else's, on you. Your skin itched at the attention and you resisted the urge to tug at the collar of your blouse. It was made worse by Gretchen telling everyone how she was reassigning one of your favorite accounts to him, a comment about divvying up resources to improve work/life balance. She looked at you directly as she said it, and you didn’t miss the twitch of her lip as she fought off a self-satisfied smile. You have no doubt that it was a dig at how you had said you were overloaded. You tried not to regret standing up to her earlier in the week. 

It was the longest hour of the week so far, and when it was over, you were the first one out of your chair. You still had work to do, but after returning to your desk and sitting for almost an hour without accomplishing anything due to how utterly miserable you felt, you just…couldn’t. You kept your head down as you made your way to the elevators, only glancing up once you made it to the lobby. Instantly, your breath caught and your heart rate picked up. You didn’t see his face, but you knew it was Paul standing there, his back to you as he waited for one of the lifts. Before he could spot you, you escaped into the bathroom. You waited for five, and then ten minutes just to be safe. It was after 6:00 when you finally made it down to the parking lot and started toward home. 

You had gotten so overwhelmed the latter half of the day, the week catching up with you, that Bradley coming over had almost entirely left your mind. So when you pulled into your driveway and saw him sitting on your porch steps waiting for you, the first tear slipped. 

Bradley rose from the porch and was already walking toward you by the time you stepped out of the car. He gave you that devastating smile of his that you knew was reserved just for you, his eyes sparkling in the setting sun. 

“Hey you,” he greeted, “I was getting worried.” 

You realized then that you hadn’t even bothered checking your phone to see if he had texted or called you before you left the office, and another tear slipped down your cheek. 

The last thing you wanted was this: this whole situation having you so stressed that you forget him, or push him to the side. And that’s exactly what had happened today. That place, those people, they were ruining everything. And you were letting them. That, more than anything, upset you. 

“Sorry,” you choked out, your voice hitching as the word got stuck in your throat. Bradley’s smile faded at the same time he clocked the dampness on your cheek and heard your apology. His eyes widened as he quickened his stride to you. 

“Bug, what-” 

You gave him no warning before you closed the remaining distance. Your bag clattered to the ground as you slammed into him. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you in return, holding you tightly against his body. Your face buried itself into his chest and your hands gripped the back of his shirt as you clung to him, and right there in your driveway, you finally let yourself cry. 

“Hey,” Bradley soothed, running a hand up and down your back, never easing his grip on you. “Hey, hey. Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” 

You shook your head, unable to find the words you were looking for. It was like all the stress from the week, the whispers and stares and rumors, hit you all at one time, and you couldn’t stop the tears now that they had started. They silently streamed down your cheeks as you let yourself find comfort in your boyfriend’s embrace, all the emotions slowly slipping out of you as he kept you locked in his arms. 

You could hear the concern in his voice as he repeated the question, and you felt so bad for making him worry.  

“Sorry,” you stammered, not pulling away. “I’m okay. Sorry.” You tried your best to take a breath, but it came out shaky. Your bottom lip quivered again, more tears spilling. 

“No, hey, it’s okay.” 

Bradley shushed you gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He stood there holding you, running a large palm up and down your spine, whispering in your ear that it was okay, and to let it out. He didn’t even know what was going on, yet he was an unmoving presence, offering you comfort with no expectations. 

When your tears finally dried and your crying transitioned into sniffling instead, you tilted your head back. Bradley moved with you, peering down with concern shining in his brown eyes. You tried to smile, but the most you could manage was a twitch of your lips. There was an urge to say I’m sorry again, which he must have read on your face. 

“Let’s get you inside,” he said, before the apology could leave your lips. He kissed your forehead, lingering for a moment. You felt him breathe in against your skin before pulling away. “Come on.” 

He scooped up your fallen belongings and guided you to the front door. He unlocked it himself with the keys he had picked up and let you go in before him. He didn’t stop touching you the whole time, his hand firmly on your lower back, and when he locked the door and set your stuff down on the entryway table, he didn’t hesitate to draw you back into his arms. You practically melted against him. The grip he had on you was the only thing keeping you upright, and for a few minutes, you just let yourself be. You felt lighter than you had in days and you knew it was because of him. 

Not for the first time, you wondered what you had done to possibly deserve him. 

Bradley didn’t rush you, but you eventually detached yourself from him. He squeezed your hips before he released you, encouraging you to go take a shower and put on something more comfortable. 

“I’ll order something,” he said when you started to make a comment about cooking for him. He stepped forward again and leant down for the first kiss you had shared since Sunday night. It was only a soft brush of lips, neither of you even attempting to deepen it, but it helped loosen the grip of the remaining anxiety around your throat. The smile you gave him before you walked toward your bedroom was one of the first genuine ones you had mustered all day. 

When you came back into the living room, there was food and wine on the coffee table, but no Bradley in sight. You didn’t have a chance to call out for him before your backdoor opened and he came through.

“I took your trash out,” he explained, a small frown on his face. “Did you know your backdoor was unlocked?” 

Your eyebrows pinched together at his question. You hadn’t known that. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had gone through it. 

“My landlord was supposed to come by and look at the bathroom window,” you said with a shrug, brushing it off even as your earlier anxiety threatened to come back. “He usually comes in through the back when I’m not here. He probably didn’t lock it on the way out. It wouldn’t be the first time, especially since sometimes it looks locked until you tug on it. It’s…quirky.” 

“It's sucky, is what it is,” Bradley said, his voice flatter than you had ever heard it. You couldn’t help but huff out a laugh as you agreed with him. “Will you call him tomorrow and make sure? Or I can, if you want?” 

“I will,” you promised, accepting the kiss he gave you. “Can we eat?” 

Once the pizza he ordered was finished and the glass of wine he had poured you emptied, you crawled onto his lap on the couch. He was warm and solid beneath you. 

“Will you tell me what happened?” he asked gently, his calloused fingers brushing your bare thigh. You nuzzled your face into his neck for a moment, inhaling the comforting smell of his skin and the remnants of his cologne. 

“Just got overwhelmed, I think,” you whispered. You kissed below his chin before lifting your head enough to meet his eyes. “I feel better now.” 

Bradley’s eyes studied you like he was trying to see if you were underplaying it, but you weren’t lying - you did feel better now. Maybe not 100%, but better. 

“Are you sure?” he finally asked. You nodded, but you told him about your day anyway, not wanting to keep him in the dark about anything. His jaw clenched when you mentioned one of the new rumors floating around today claiming that you had filed the complaint because you were jealous Paul turned you down when you asked him out. You pressed your lips to the spot where the muscles ticked until he relaxed. 

He looked like he was contemplating something by the time you finished your debrief. You waited him out with your fingers running through the soft curls on the top of his head; the motion was something that calmed both of you down. 

“You know I’ll take care of you, right?” he asked after a quiet moment, like he was still thinking over how best to say it. “If you wanted to quit now, or if-” 

You shifted so that instead of sitting across it, you were straddling his lap. You kissed him soundly in interruption, your skin warm beneath his hands where he cradled you against him. Your forehead laid against his when you pulled away, noses brushing and breaths mingling. 

“You already are,” you promised him, voice nothing higher than a whisper. You knew that he didn’t just mean emotionally, and he knew you knew that, too. But he didn’t call you out on it, instead trusting that you would come to him if you needed to. He trusted you, and that meant more than anything. Those words from before played on your tongue again, but you swallowed them back by kissing him once more. 

Now wasn’t the time for them, either. 

___

You and Bradley spent the weekend together, and just like the ones before, you’re able to forget about work and everything that came with it for the two full days in each other’s presence. When Sunday rolled around, this time you didn’t force yourself to leave when the sun went down. The almost hour drive to your office from Bradley’s apartment on Monday morning wasn’t ideal, but waking up tangled in his sheets with his arm wrapped around you had made it all worth it. 

The rumors slowed with the time off, but only marginally. You were still the punch line of several ill-intended jokes and you couldn’t go anywhere without feeling someone’s eyes on you. You lost count of how many raised eyebrows you saw before the person who sent them your way turned to whisper to whoever they were sitting beside. 

You wondered how these so-called professionals had nothing better to do with their time. But you also wondered, deep down, why no one believed you. That was one of the toughest pills to swallow.

You had taken to reserving one of the conference rooms during the day, hiding away in there with your laptop between meetings and only venturing back to your desk after the office emptied out in the evenings. By the end of the second week, you were exhausted all over again. 

You were lying stretched out on your couch with your feet in Bradley’s lap on Friday night when your phone buzzed with a new text message. You groaned out loud when you opened the group chat with your friend group. 

“Oh no.” 

Bradley tore his gaze away from the political documentary he had been zoned in for, looking over at you in question. “What’s wrong?” 

“I forgot about brunch.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Your monthly meetup?” 

Your face softened, warmth spreading through you at the fact that he remembered. You weren’t sure why you were surprised - he had proven time and time again that he remembered damn near anything. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed. 

He looked thoughtful for a moment, his fingers never ceasing from where they were pressing into the sore soles of your feet. You hadn’t even had to ask for him to rub them, and that in and of itself made pleasure shoot through you at his touch. 

“You usually love these things,” he said, not as a question, but simply as stating a fact. “You should go,” he encouraged.

You let the phone fall onto your chest without responding to the messages coming in. You did usually love these outings. You looked forward to them, even. But this time you were tired even at just the idea of it. Your friends tended to be a lot and you were already so overstimulated from the last two weeks of absolute hell at work. The thought of just you and Bradley in a bubble together for two straight days sounded so lovely. You shrugged in reply. 

“I don’t really want to go out,” you said, “it’s been a long few weeks.” 

“I know it has. But maybe seeing your friends could get your mind off of it?” 

“I know someone else who does a great job of that all on his own,” you said, digging your toes into his thigh playfully. He laughed softly, tickling you in retaliation. You squealed at the sensation, trying to get your legs away, but Bradley held onto you and continued his attack. You nearly had tears in your eyes from your laughter by the time he had mercy. He had ended up hovering over you, his arms bracketing you in and holding himself up to avoid crushing you. You let out a hum of pleasure when he kissed you, pouting when he pulled away after just a few seconds. His mustache twitched when he smiled. 

“I think you should go,” he told you. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to keep you all to myself. But I think it would be good. Catch up with your friends. Have a mimosa or two. Forget about all the shit going on for a while.” 

You considered his words for a moment. Truthfully, the thought of going out caused nervousness to thrum in your chest and your mind to race. It was easier being at home or at Bradley’s apartment. 

The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized that by letting that unnerving feeling win, you were letting him win. Paul. You hadn’t felt this kind of uncertainty of living your life until he came along, and that realization made you sad. You loved going out with your friends, and you hadn’t done it in awhile now. 

“You’re right,” you said. You leant up to press your lips to his again. “I’ll go.” 

It would be fun, and it was just brunch. What was the worst that could happen?

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

Part Eight :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: Famous words, Bug. Famous words.

I had a scowl on my face writing pretty much this whole chapter because people being mean to Bug make me angry. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The next one is a goodie!

Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement for posting more🖤

Thank you to Mak and Em for all of your help making this story come to life. And thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!

Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction @fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirl

@mssleepy876b @kassieesworld @mizzzpink @a-serene-place-to-be @sexualparkour @sadpetalsstuff @almostgenerallyalways @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ccbb2222 @taytaylala12 @shelbycillian @mavrellover91 @vici111 @lunamooncole @blackwidownat2814 @pisupsala @bellaireland1981 @jynxmirage @shanimallina87 @greatszu @na-ta-sh-aa @callsign-magnolia @chaoticassidy

#alli writes #this love came back to me #bug and b #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic #rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #top gun #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw angst

[whiskeyapologist]

was looking through my camera roll & realized i never posted about this?? but i did a check please theme in my bullet journal back in april & i am still beyond obsessed with how it turned out!

task list & cover page

april was all about finishing my fucking thesis (i earned my mfa in stage automation in may) & i used the task list to break down each section of my thesis & make it less intimidating. i still pulled a bitty & had to marathon write most of my thesis within a like 36 hour period. i slept so good once that draft was finished!

when i started planning this theme, i flipped through the comic & decided pretty quickly i wanted the cover to be this view of faber from 4.25 "faber". i filled the outside with some of my favorite details from throughout the comic, including (clockwise from top left) the "text from chowder: i'm shouting!" from 4.2 "nonstop celly", jack's "oh" moment from 2.17 "graduation", the jack lego (?) figure from 3.1 "wag", dex & nursey's background roach & house bubbles & (i think it's) ransom's "et tu lardo?" bubble from 2.12 "post i: roadie", one of my fave senor bun appearances that didn't make it into a weekly from 1.16 "linemates", & bitty's phone (i don't think there's a specific appearance of bitty's phone that looks like this, at least not that i'm finding in the flip-throughs i've done to write this post. i think i did a lil freehand moment with it, but if anyone happens to find it in the comic, let me know!), as well as my usual little calendar & monthly focuses section

monthly calendar & habit tracker

the monthly calendar & playlist is inspired by the smh team roster hanging on the bulletin board in the haus at the beginning of year 2

the habit tracker features a few other details from 2.1 “moved in”, namely the “haus sweet haus” rug & the sock pinned to the bulletin board. the shopping list bubble is a callback to the “jizz!” speech bubble also pinned to the bulletin board next to the sock

meal & time trackers

the breakfast, lunch, & dinner headers are a callback to the hockey puck taped to the bulletin board

not much to add here, but it’s a great time to mention the “it’s tough but you’re tougher” speech bubble from 4.20 “spotlight on eric bittle” which was the quote i used to decorate my grad cap ❤️

weekly #1 is modeled after y1 & features my favorite y1 senor bun appearance (1.18 “playoffs - i”) & line (1.8 “checking clinic”)

weekly #2 is modeled after y2 & features my favorite y2 senor bun (2.10 "shinny") & line (2.4 "hazeapalooza")

weekly #3 is modeled after y3 & features my favorite y3 senor bun (3.3 "meet the falconers") & line (3.26 "cup v - post")

weekly #4 is modeled after y4 (the layout of the top panel specifically is modeled after the first panel of 4.16 "christmas in madison - iii" which shows a bunch of the christmas pics/posts from the rest of smh & tater) & features my favorite y4 senor bun (4.17 "senior thesis") & line (also 4.17 "senior thesis"). i has some extra space, so i included some excerpts from bitty's y4 tweets

camp nanowrimo tracker, before the pen. the left is just a table for tracking time spent on & words written for my thesis & the novel i've been working on forever. my camp nanowrimo goal was to write 1 hour every weekend day & 2 hours every week day, for a grand total of 50 hours, which i am proud to say i achieved! the right is a visual tracker, where each pie was equal to an hour of writing. i included 50 pies for my 50 hour goal. the bubble near the top is from 1.4 "the haus" with 2 footnotes i added; one on "kitchens" that says "word docs", & one on "pies" that says "words". clearly i think i'm very clever lol

visual tracker, filled in. i surpassed my 50 hour goal with about a week left in the month, & i wanted to include that additional progress on my tracker. once the month was done & i knew how much i needed to add, i made a tip-in (although this might just be a fold-out lol) to tape in. on one side, i included the dialogue bubbles from a panel of 3.19 "keagster"

on the other side of the tip-in/flip-out, i included jam jars for the additional 10.25 hours of writing i did, plus "it's gonna be two trips" also from 3.19 "keagster"

& that's all the spreads! spreads were done in an archer & olive b5 notebook. supplies include: mildliners in the colors vermillion, dark blue, beige, & gray; a black papermate flair, a white gellyroll pen in size 08, and stabilo pens in gray and brown. oh, & a piece of masking tape, bc i couldn't find any clear tape lol

#omgcp #bullet journal #i did so many good themes in my b5 journal but i'm pretty sure this one's my favorite

[vodika-vibes]

Heyyyyy Vodikaaaaa!

I saw those first kiss prompts, and because I'm such a sap, I thought I'd mosey on over here and send in a request.

Can I have “worth the wait” with Fives?

You can take it wherever you want to (just no smut, please), or you could choose to ignore it. I will be happy with anything or nothing 😌

Please and thank you 💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Worth the Wait

Summary: You are eagerly waiting for your first date with Fives.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x Reader

Word Count: 1356

Warnings: None~

A/N: You know me, I love me some Fives fluff! Thank you for the request~

divider by saradika

You absently tap your marker on your kitchen counter as you scan the calendar that’s spread out in front of you. Each day is carefully crossed off with a red X as you count down the days until you can finally meet Fives face to face.

A smile crosses your face as you open your marker and cross off one more day. And then you move the marker to tap on the paper right next to the neatly printed words that marked today.

Resolute lands at 10 am,

And directly underneath it.

Date with Fives at Martha’s Tavern at 6 PM.

You feel a surge of excitement. You’ve been preparing for this date for weeks now. You have the perfect outfit, the perfect shoes, the perfect hairstyle-

You may have obsessed over this date. Just a little.

It’s fine. Probably.

You recap your marker and drop it in the cup on the counter, and then pick up the calendar and hang it back on the wall. You grab your comm, and open your reminders, absently scanning down the list for the day, making sure that all of the alarms are properly set, so you aren’t late.

You can’t be late. Not to this.

You and Fives have been friends for almost a year now. Though, admittedly, your friendship only started because you both regularly visit the same chat room. 

It started out with a couple of conversations about whatever topic was the topic of the day for the forum. He quickly proved himself to be smarter, and more clever, than many of the other people in the forum, and you found yourself sending him private messages about things that you read in the forum that sat wrong with you.

And in return, he did the same. Sending you messages at random times, linking to a comment or a forum, with a quip or a snarky comment.

And before you knew it, you were sending him your comm code, and he was sending you his, and you were getting messages throughout the day about random little things.

Honestly, you didn’t even know that he was a clone, or even his name, until five months after you started talking with each other.

He’d had a bad day. A really bad day. And you got a message at one am-

I know you’re probably asleep, but I could really use a friend right now-

And you, who had intentionally set the notifications from Fives to be loud enough to wake you, immediately commed him. If he needed a friend, then you would be that friend.

You spent all night talking…and you talked well into the morning. 

It changed something in your relationship, though you didn’t realize it until much later.

Fives took to comming you on a daily basis, usually early in the morning for you, or late at night, and while he always apologized for waking you, or preventing you from sleeping, you always made the same joke, “sleep it for the weak.”

Somehow, though, in spite of the fact that he regularly returns to Coruscant, your schedules never quite manage to sync up. Either you’re working or visiting family on the other side of the planet, or he’s working or deployed.

It is, in a word, infuriating.

Three months ago, Fives sent you a message before the Resolute entered hyperspace. Girlfriend?

It was, easily, the most unromantic way to be asked to be someone’s girlfriend, but-

Well.

How could you say no? It’s Fives.

You learned, real quick, that you have an innate inability to say no to Fives. Which would normally concern you, but he’s so kind and sweet, and all he really asks for are pictures and videos of you going about your daily life.

He admitted, only once, that the pictures and videos help him feel like he’s there with you, helping you go through your life.

If you’re going to be honest with yourself, and you always are, you can admit that you’ve fallen, and fallen hard, for Fives. And you haven’t even been on a single date with him.

Which is why, when he sent a message telling you when the Resolute will finally be docking, you immediately replied with an offer for a proper date at one of your favorite restaurants. 

And Fives…well, Fives teased you about being so eager, but was just as eager when he agreed.

You stare at the chrono on the wall, it’s almost time for you to head out the door, and you’ve been dressed and primped and ready for over an hour. You ended up getting ready early just to work out some of the excited/nervous energy.

Plus, time was moving so slowly, that you were beginning to fear that it was going to run backwards.

You tap your nails, impatiently, on the arm of your couch, your gaze locked on the chrono, and you heave out a sigh as the minute seems to last an hour.

It’s worse than being in school, honestly.

You heave out another deep sigh as the time finally changes, making in a minute later, and you jump to your feet. You’re done. You can go and wait out by the restaurant. It’s fine. It’s a pretty day.

And if you have to sit here and watch the chrono for another second you’re going to scream.

You’re going to be early. By, like, a lot. But that isn’t a bad thing. 

One fifteen minute taxi ride later, you find yourself outside the tavern. You settle yourself on a bench, and prepare yourself for the hour-long wait.

However, less than ten minutes later, someone sits next to you on the bench, “You’re really early, cyare.” You turn to look at the man who joined you, a smile crossing your face when you see Fives grinning at you.

“So are you,” You tease lightly.

“Yes, but if I had to spend one more minute listening to Echo tease me about this date, I was going to throw him off a rooftop.” Fives replies with a laugh, “Speaking of which…we’re being followed.” He drapes his arm over your shoulder and points to a small group of men on the opposite side of the street.

“Ah. Which brothers are they?” You ask, amusement coloring your voice.

“Echo, Jesse, Hardcase,” Fives points out each brother to you, “Oh, and Rex and Cody are just over there.”

“Aww, they love you!” You coo at him.

He laughs, “You really don’t mind?”

You wave at his brothers, and Hardcase and Jesse wave back, “I think it’s cute.”

“Oh, they’re going to love that.” Fives says with a grin.

You turn to look up at him, the nervous energy fading into something warm and comfortable now that you’re in his presence, “Anyway, our reservation isn’t for another hour-”

“Because you’re ridiculously early.”

You bump him with your elbow, “You’re here too!” You say defensively, and he just winks at you, “Anyway,” You continue with a small pout, “We can either just sit here and hang out, or you can introduce me to your brothers-”

“I have a better idea!” Fives interrupts.

“Okay, what is it?” You ask.

And then his lips are against yours. His lips are warm and soft and his hand moves to rest against the back of your neck, holding you against him. 

It was a much better kiss than you could have imagined…and you did imagine it. A lot.

He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and affection, “I’ve been wanting to do that for months, cyare.” He admits.

You press one of your hands against his chest, while allowing the fingers of your other hand to trail against his jaw, “And?” You ask, sounding slightly breathless, “How was it?”

He chuckles lowly, and tilts your head so his lips can hover just over yours, “Worth the wait, cyare.” And then his lips are against yours again, as if he can’t get enough of you.

And, as you lean into his touch, you find yourself completely agreeing with him, this is definitely worth the wait.

#star wars #tcw #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction

[darlingillustrations]

Will You Be My (Platonic) Valentine?

Valentine’s Day is one of my favorite holidays. I’m as shocked as anyone to realize this, especially since I haven’t had a serious romantic relationship in years. But February 14th isn’t just a day for traditional lovers. It is also the day I came out of the closet as queer. It is the day I chose to stand up and show the world who I am. It is a day about self acceptance.

It is a day on which I commemorate loving myself.

After my divorce I started a tradition. Each year for Valentines day, I ask a single friend of mine to be my Platonic Valentine. Every time I do, it creates so much joy and surprise that I can’t help but wonder why more people don’t do this.

There are so many ways to love and be loved. That’s part of what inspires my Affectionate Animal series, in which I strive to paint as many different expressions of loving connection as I can. To me, deconstructing what our ideas of “love” are and reconstructing something that works for us is what lies at the heart of being queer.

I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I haven’t even had a date in longer than I can remember. But I remain open and curious to what the universe has in store, and I believe in the power of connection.

Love saves us, in the end, from a world of isolation, both in the giving and the receiving.

If you would like to send someone a little love this Valentine’s Day, consider one of these ideas:

1. Mark the Calendar

Schedule a time to meet for drinks or take a walk and catch up. The anticipation of plans warms the heart as much as the actual plans themself. Quality time is one of the most cherished things we can share.

2. Write a Letter

Artifacts of our connections, like letters and notecards that we send through snail mail, have a way of anchoring our relationships with a weight that online “likes” and “reblogs” do not carry.

3. Potluck

Breaking bread together is one of the oldest forms of intimacy, and it doesn’t even have to be fancy to hold meaning. Invite a loved one over for spaghetti or pbjs. Light a couple candles to make it feel special. Or make time to play a board game afterwards.

4. Book Club

Read your best friend’s favorite book, then talk with them about it. This has been my favorite way to show my kid I love them lately, by reading the Percy Jackson books they are obsessed with, then watching The Lightning Thief TV shows on Netflix with them.

5. Early Spring Cleaning

Make a pact with your friend to each fill up a box with things you don’t need anymore and drop it off at a second-hand store together. Maybe even stay for awhile and thift something new to cherish once you get home.

We’ve all heard Marie Kondo’s mantra “Does this spark joy?” It’s time to apply that to your relationships, as well, and make time for the people who spark joy in your life by letting go of those who don’t.

6. Lend a helping hand

When you feel isolated or lonely, one of the most effective ways to dig your way out of that is to uplift others. Talk about your friend’s hard work or business online, raving about them. If your friend has an event or a project, spread the word about it. Use your voice to spread awareness of others’ dreams, and that will strengthen your connections.

7. Say “I love you.”

It’s so simple, but many of us go so long without hearing simple words of affirmation. It’s never too late to say it, and it’s never too much.

My Affectionate Animal series is available as art prints, notecards and stickers. You can buy them in my online shop.

#platonic valentines day #queer your valentines #queer community #be my valentine #affectionate animal series #affectionate animals #darling illustrations #erin speaks

[geeky-politics-46]

hiii!!

in regards to your quick drabbles i was wondering if you could do a 616 stephen strange who is married to the reader. the reader isnt aware she is pregnant but is like showing all the symptoms, and stephen picks up on the pregnancy before her

thank you so much ily

It had to be food poisoning. You tried to recall everything you had eaten. Could food poisoning last for more than a week though? Not likely. It wasn't flu season but maybe there was still some sort of stomach bug going around. There had to be a reason why you had been nauseous and sick to your stomach every day for over a week. You were shocked Stephen wasn't worried about it. He could be a bit obsessive when it came to anything medical.

He had been keeping an extra eye on you since you started feeling like this, but you seemed far more concerned than he did. The only upside was that he was paying you more attention than normal. Almost to the point of following you around. Under normal circumstances, it would have been sweet, but between the nausea and feeling exhausted, it was a little cloying.

"Stephen, seriously what is up?! Why are you being so weird?! I feel like crap and you are glued to my side all of a sudden with a big ole stupid grin on your face. If you don't stop or tell me what's up your ass I'm gonna vomit on you."

He looked at you with a cheeky smirk and his eyebrows raised. Like he was waiting for you to realize the punch line of a joke. When he realized that you really didn't get it, he led you over to the calendar you kept by the bed. Handing it to you and suddenly disappearing into the bathroom and retrieving something else.

"Notice anything missing from this month's calendar?"

As you studied the calendar, all appeared in place at first glance. So you flipped to the previous month to see if it could offer any hints. As it slowly dawned on you what was missing, you flipped the page back and forth a few times. Sure enough, what was missing was a red dot. The red dot you used to signify the start of your period. As your expression started to change Stephen pulled the item he retrieved from behind his back, a large genuinely happy smile on his face, dropping it in your lap on top of the calendar.

It was a pregnancy test.

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

Back to main masterlist

#doctor strange #stephen strange #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #doctor strange x you #dr. stephen strange #doctor strange drabble #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange fluff #fluffy doctor strange #stephen strange fluff #fluffy Stephen Strange #doctor strange x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x female reader #benedict cumberatch #benedict cumberbatch drabble #benedict cumberbatch imagine #doctor stephen strange #mcu drabble #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #drabble #stephen strange x fem!reader #marvel fanfic #doctor strange fanfic #mcu fanfiction

[annab99awritersdream]

Maiar in 'The Lady of Ithilien'

(to be updated with new information as the story progresses. As such, things may change)

Eönwë

Herald and banner-bearer of Manwë, the High King of Arda. He's among the most powerful Maiar in Valinor and the mightiest in arms. Military leader and High Commander of the Host of the Valar, he was one of the key fighters during the War of Wrath, which marked the end of the First Age of the Sun.

Birth: he entered Arda shortly after it was created.

Married to Elenna of the House of Húrin.

Fancast: Daniel Sharman

Ilmarë

Eönwë's younger sister and handmaiden of Varda, Queen of the Valar and Manwë's wife. Along with her brother, she's one of the chiefs of the Maiar.

Birth: she entered Arda shortly after it was created.

Eventually married to Eldarion, Crown Prince of Gondor and Arnor.

Fancast: Matilda Lutz

Olórin

Also known as Gandalf (one of his many aliases), he has served several Valar throughout the various ages of Arda. He's mainly associated with Manwë and Varda, but he also served Nienna, Valië of sorrow and compassion and Irmo, Vala of dreams and visions. (Olórin is a Quenya name and its meaning is something along the lines of "dream of mind")

Birth: he entered Arda shortly after it was created.

Fancast: Sir Ian McKellen (as Gandalf during the War of the Ring. He sticks to this form for a little while longer before switching back to his usual one); Bradley James (as Olórin)

(they give the same vibe tbh)

Wilwarin

Maia serving Irmo and occasionally Nienna. She's had a major crush on Olórin ever since she met him. She's not the sharpest tool in the box (sorry girl, I still love you), but she's kind-hearted and keeps to herself because no one wants to befriend her due to her perceived stupidity. SHE NEEDS LOVE AND AFFECTION, which no one has ever given her because most Maiar are stuck up and arrogant. Extremely naïve and completely clueless at times, she's been nicknamed "Wilya" (meaning airhead) by her fellow Maiar. She's obsessed with Olórin because he's the only one who's ever actually interacted with her.

Birth: She entered Arda at the beginning of the Second Age of the Sun, following the War of Wrath.

Fancast: Tuğba Melis Türk

Isilmë

Maia of Vayanna. Considered among the most beautiful Maiarin women to ever enter Arda, she has been obsessed with Eönwë ever since she first saw him. They had a brief fling following the War of Wrath, which, needless to say, ended very quickly (and badly). She's firmly convinced he's still in love with her and will do anything to get him back. Her name is Quenya for "moonlight".

Birth: she entered Arda following the War of Wrath (around the same time as Wilwarin)

Fancast: Beste Kökdemir

Isilya

Maia of Yavanna. She's Isilmë's close friend (or so she believes). She fails to realize Isilmë doesn't really love her or value their friendship, but simply uses her for her own purposes. She blindly follows her "friend" and indistinctly agrees with everything the latter says or does, as she's been brainwashed into thinking she's perfect. She doesn't seem to have a mind of her own, modeling her own behavior after Isilmë, as she's afraid to lose the connection they share. She's petty and very annoying, but not inherently evil and might even redeem herself eventually. Who knows. Her name is Quenya for "the third day of the week" according to the Númenórean calendar.

(It might sound odd, but I picked the name purely because it sounds similar to Isilmë and because I like the sound of it, not necessarily because I had a specific idea. I'm terrible at naming characters, I know. Please don't be mean)

Birth: she entered Arda following the War of Wrath.

Fancast: Dilara Aksüyek

Elenna's household

Four Maiarin ladies enter her service after her marriage to the Herald.

Handalimë

Originally a Maia of Vána, she is thoughtful, level-headed, smart and highly practical. Elenna is entrusted to her and she quickly grows fond of her new lady, becoming one of her most trusted servants and her main confidante. She's usually calm and collected and makes it her mission to protect her lady from anyone who might wish her harm—namely her sister Isilmë and a few of the Noldorin elves— and constantly worries about her. Her lady's well-being is her utmost priority.

Birth: she entered Arda sometime before the end of the First Age.

Fancast: Gülcan Arslan

Narael

A Maia of Aulë, she's spunky and crafty but also naive and shy. She loves making rings and necklaces and will be gifting many jewels to her new lady. She can often be found chatting with Gimli, as she's never seen a dwarf before and wants to know all about dwarf customs and traditions (for fairly obvious reasons, I'd say). Kind-hearted and wiser than she lets on, she loves sitting by fireplaces (and lighting them).

Birth: she entered Arda at the beginning of the Third Age.

Fancast: Sophie Turner

Aranwen

A Maia of Nessa, she loves dancing, nature and poetry. She's not a great conversationalist, but when she does speak, one had better stop and listen. She loves reading and will spend many hours discussing books and history with her lady. She enjoys needlework and she's quite a good painter as well. She respects Elena greatly and often reassures her. Even though they get on each other's nerves quite often, she's great friends with Naráel. She too will spend a bit of time with Gimli, but only to try and convince him that ripping down trees is inherently bad. Nevertheless, she grows fond of the lord of the Glittering Caves- she and Legolas will try and teach him how to dance. Whether they will succeed is still unknown.

Birth: she entered Arda at the beginning of the Third Age.

Fancast: Rose Williams

Elenya

Maia of Varda (the name is kind of a giveaway).

She's sweet, kind and very protective of Elenna. She often likes to remark how similar their names are and loves to recount stories that most have forgotten (star-related, of course). She was lady-in-waiting to Ilmarë before she volunteered to join Elenna's household.

Birth: she entered Arda during the Years of the Trees.

Fancast: Yasemin Allen

#maiarofmiddleearth #theladyofithilien #ao3 writer #ainur #maiar #valar

[starbiology]

Hi. First, let me say that I really like you blog!! Your art is lovely.

I wanted ask what do you think will be the Darkest Faerie's role in the incoming plot? I remember her from the Altador Plot but I did that waaay back and can't remember seeing her much outside of that statue and the cool avatar. How does she tie in with what's happening now?

I ask because I see you mention her a lot, but I feel like I am missing many parts of this, both from you theories and Neo lore (that I can find on my own btw im not asking you to retell me). I haven't been in Neo these past few months but I might go back to weekly or daily visiting the site when the plot starts.

Thank you! 🖤🦇

thank you :D!!

One of the main reasons we know shes coming back for this plot was actually this past halloween event in which her and other villains are talked about being in a void.

A lot of the speculation is that the characters seem to be hiding in/lost/trapped in this void. The advent calendar was the first time we got to see what the void is and Kass' sword was in it too. The dialogue isnt on the site but its on SunnyNeo

Also this is still so funny to me 'Welcome to the Cosmic Horrors of the VOID. Enjoy, and happy holidays!'

Other important events that are gearing up for the plot was the 2023 festival of neggs, the faerie festival and its comic

And back on topic to The Darkest Faerie!

Looking at her story, for awhile I thought the only option that wouldnt be turning her to stone (TNT if you can hear me dont turn her to stone again) would be to kill her. It wouldnt even be a bad choice to kill her, shes a major villain across multiple plots. Id actually still argue it would be a fair end to her story.

But theres two points that make killing her off hard

The last time she was seen, she realized the ring she made to create wraiths was actually draining her life and she cant remove it. Pitting your good characters against a weakened villain is just narratively a very bad idea. It makes the hero seem weaker than they are and nearly no matter what the villain did, it comes across as cruel

The Altador council, despite having all the right to be angry at her or happy about her defeat, are So Damn Upset. The day of her betrayal is literally a day of somber remembrance

the entirety of this advent calendar clip just,,altador bro,,,you okay?

and of course the plot book

The council is stuck in a story of 'Used to be 12 heroes, now its only 11' its written on almost all inscriptions about them. It would be nice to see the council come back together again by TDF teaming up with them, even if it starts as part of a scheme of her's (which I wouldnt be surprised it does) until she finally overcomes her obsession with power.

It would make for a happy end to the council's story, otherwise theyre just going to be stuck in this state of mourning their friend

#asks #I love talking about this ashkdgf so thankyou #long post #neopets posting

[chekhovs-nailgun]

i have some thoughts on coping thru fiction and using fic/writing as a general tool that i wanna put out there. warning: i will be discussing grooming below the cut.

so to get it out of the way, i was groomed when i was 11. i don’t think this is the time nor place for me to go into a whole ramble about the specifics of that, so i won’t. all that’s necessary right now is that it happened and within a year i started adding similar dynamics to a project i was working on.

it was a sideplot during my first nanowrimo attempt centered around a post-apocalyptic scenario. the jist of it was a kid in his mid-teens, think 16 or so, was romantically obsessed with a mid-20s, closer to 30 woman. the age difference was about the same. i would ask for advice on the story in general from my mom (phd in psychology, literally never had a problem with it lmfao, funny how that works).

was it ass? absolutely, it was. a 12 year old wrote it. it’s never seeing the light of day lmao. but it was really important in the process of me not fucking hating myself for years for thinking/internalizing that it was a moral failing on my part.

the thing about it is that at the time, it didn’t feel like coping. i felt like i was just writing about something that happens. fleshing it out in that sterile environment helped me get a grip of how fucking gross what happened to me was, while putting myself in a position where i had control over what happened, something i didn’t have irl. i didn’t even realize that’s what happened until i thought “ah yes, i started writing dark fic when i was 12, the same calendar year i was groomed.”

“…”

now i look at people arguing over the semantics of it, with fic of that type being morally reprehensible with exceptions like “only if you never share it” or “only if you use it to cope” or “using it to cope is morally reprehensible for this-or-that reason, don’t interact with it in any way other than seething rage or some other specific way”. while seething rage and pure fucking anger can be a totally fine way to deal with it, people who think in these kinds of ways need to remember: not everybody is you. making broad assumptions, nitpicking, and believing that your way is the only correct way does nothing but harm other victims by taking away an opportunity for them to work out their trauma, at best. at worst? it allows more predators to hide and commit tangible harm due to widespread assumptions that the people hurting others are the people posting fic, and not the “safe” adults playing into kids’ interests and making them feel important and special. (source: that’s what mine did; yucky bad fanfiction was never a part of the equation.)

i know what the response to this is. “ackshully posting it is doing harm because it normalizes it and gives predators the confidence to act on the thoughts they already have; the human psyche is more sensitive to porn and if you get tired of fiction you’re bound to turn to nonfiction”. this is where the age old disagreement comes into play, and while i don’t see much of a point in rehashing it for people who already have their minds made up on it, i would like to note a couple of things, firstly that humans aren’t mirrors. most people see things like this and recognize it’s wrong, just like they recognize that other subjects criminalized irl are wrong, such as murder, theft, etc. if somebody sees something problematic and decides it’s a good way to act, there was something already wrong, be it undiagnosed mental illness or being too young/impressionable to participate safely in such circles. i also find this viewpoint really cruel in that it takes responsibility away from the actual predators, essentially painting them as wild animals who “couldn’t help it, they became desensitized and just had to have more of that vile content you people make” when grooming is, at its core, a desire for power over another. im gonna come out and say it: predators are smart. they are called predators for a reason. thinking of them as lawless beasts who operate out of instinct is entirely disrespectful to victims.

the cold hard truth of the matter is that darkfic, no matter how disgusting people find it on a case by case basis, is morally neutral. it cannot damage anybody by simply existing unless warnings are ignored or it is actively weaponized, sometimes meaning that the content itself is removed from the protective warnings and wantonly put on display for large audiences of underage people to see.

i personally don’t like a whole lot of darkfic, im really picky about what i read. and i think that no matter my thoughts on it, it has a right to exist. idc, consider me a “bad victim” lmao. if you do that’s your cross to bear, not mine.

tldr: sometimes you need to express shit and fuck you if you try to enforce your own feelings on others trying to do so

#ok to rb #tw grooming mention #chekhov’s cathedral #shipcourse #proship #anti anti #proship please interact

[yandere-chocolate]

❧❧ Yandere Dreamcore OC ❧❧ ~(Romantic)~

TW/CW: stalking, obsessive behavior, horror, heavily implied murder(s). Also you have a gf in this.

——————————————————————Oc: 🦋Papilíos🦋

——————————————————————

It had been a long while since you moved in with the butterfly man. There were no clocks or calendars in this world, but you had to guess it was…about a year? Maybe a little longer?

You moved out of Papilíos’ house a little bit ago. You had moved into a heavily forested that was between the city & the place where Papilíos lived. He commonly visited & made you both tea, as well as he did odd things like help you with your laundry & he even cooked for you! Sometimes he would even leave you some money if he noticed you were low on food. It was nice having a friend like him.

Today was one of the days that Papilíos visited. He knocked on your door & sat down once you let him inside. “So,” he began, “how is your job going?” The butterfly’s eye perked up as his version of smiling. “Good, I’m glad I can work from home! Although, it can get a bit boring.” Honestly, ‘boring’ was the least of it. It barely even felt like work! The deadlines were almost non-existent & all you had to do was click a few buttons, supposedly to help…change weather to different parts of a mushroom civilization so they got the right amount of humidity. You swore this world was like a dream.

“Well, it’s better than having no money…” Papilíos got up & went to make some hot cups of tea for the two of you. After he was done, you both drank the tea & shared some things going on in your own personal lives.

“Oh! Wait!” You realized, giggling at the fact that you completely forgot about a very significant change. “Hm?” The butterfly looked at you, tilting his head slightly. “I have a girlfriend now!” You laughed, “I met her on an online dating app! Her name is Pulchra!” You laughed, completely unaware at the fact that Papilíos stopped in his tracks & seemed…off, to say the least.

You went on & on about how beautiful & sweet she is, feeling giddy about the fact that you have a romantic partner, only for the blue butterfly to hastily get up & throw on the brown coat he brought. “I…I need to go.” He breathed, like he was holding back something.

All you could do was sit, confused, & stare at the still warm cup of tea that Papilíos didn’t finish drinking.

.

.

.

.

Your butterfly friend hadn’t been back since that day. You talked to your girlfriend about it & she seemed just as confused. Although, she told you to leave it, since maybe it was embarrassing or personal, & just pretend it never happened when you saw him again. You understood that. Everyone has personal things that they would rather no one know about.

The main issue arose when he had been what must amount to 2 weeks. What if he’s missing? Or in danger? The fact that your girlfriend had stopped taking your calls & texts didn’t help either.

You decided to go visit Papilíos.

You knocked on his door. No answer. You knocked even harder. No answer. You let out a breathy sigh, “I’m sorry, Papilíos…” you whispered to yourself before unlocking the door & walking inside. You felt dirty for breaking into your friend’s house, but it was necessary. At least, you hoped it was.

You walked through the house, taking in the sweet yet water-like smell. You saw a nectar box(juice box but nectar) on the counter as you walked deeper into the house.

“Hello?” You called out, “hello?!” You stepped on something. As you looked down, your blood ran ice-cold. It was a picture of you. But you don’t remember this one. You don’t remember Papilíos taking this one.

You just stood there, just wanting to teleport away from this house & go home, lock all your doors & windows &—

There was another.

This one was of you sleeping…in your new house. How did Papilíos?… you didn’t want to think about it.

Finally, you began backing away only to hit something soft & warm. Something breathing. Something alive.

“Oh…I’m sorry…” the masculine voice spoke softly as he wrapped his arms around you, “those are supposed to be…personal.” The once soft, meek, & sweet voice now sounded dark, malicious, & threatening.

“You know, you’re very pretty,” he said as he lowered himself next to your ear, “perfect for photos~” the butterfly cooed. “I have more. I began taking them awhile ago. I haven’t shown anyone else, I promise. At least…no one still alive.”

…what happened to your girlfriend?

#yanderecore #yandere #yandere blog #yandere x reader #yandere oc #dreamcore #dreamcore ocs #yandere boy #Papilíos oc #dreamcore oc #yandere monster

[birdlungg]

Happy Birthday Part 2

Eddie Munson x Reader

No one would ever accuse Eddie of not treating his girl right. He is always taking her out to dinner, buying her things he thinks she deserves and treating her like the goddess she is. It makes him happy to know she’s taken care of. 

This is why trying to shop for her birthday present is so hard. 

“Baby, please,” Eddie whines as he nuzzles his face into your abdomen as you both lay on his bed. You’re on your back with him between your legs as you read a magazine above his head. “Just tell me what you want!” 

You roll your eyes and lift the magazine so you can see his face. “Eddie, I already told you I don’t need anything! You spoil me enough. I really just want to spend the day with you.” You scrunch down a bit and kiss him on the forehead. For how tough he acts he sure can be a softy, you realize as he closes his eyes and presses his face into your rib cage. 

Since you’re not “cooperating” with him, he seems to be done with the conversation, so you turn your attention back to your magazine. He seems to get bored and lifts your - actually, his - shirt above your breasts, exposing your hardening nipples to the cold air of his trailer. You let him play, knowing how obsessed he is with your piercings. 

He kisses up your rib cage and around each nipple before he freezes in place. You lift your magazine again, arching a curious eyebrow at his as he stares at your piercings. “Uh, you ok there, handsome?” You ask carefully. He snaps out of whatever zone he was in and grins wildly at you. If you didn’t know better, you would have been scared. But come on, this was Eddie. 

“Just fine, babydoll,” he says, lifting himself to kiss you swiftly. You toss the magazine to the side, grabbing his hair and pulling him back to your mouth for another kiss. 

................................................................................................................................

Since that day, Eddie has been kissing you less. On a good day, you and Eddie would make out at least twice a day, and that’s completely separate from kissing during sex. He hasn’t even eaten you out in weeks, and he loves to do that! You don’t realize it at the time, but he’s even stopped eating around you. Just what the hell is going on?

You try not to dwell on it too much since he’s still treating you the same otherwise, but one day after you get off of work you are snuggled into his bed while he plays his guitar. You glance up from your book to see his eyes furrowed in concentration as he plays, and he looks so good. It’s the day before your birthday and you’re planning on staying the night, then taking him to the small get-together your parents have planned for you. 

“Eddie,” you get his attention while he takes a break from playing to take a drink of water. 

“What’s up, baby?” He asks, setting his glass down. 

“So, I’ve noticed in the last few weeks that you’ve been less... active with your mouth than you usually are. Is there any reason for that, or are you suddenly over your oral fixation?” He laughs before glancing at the calendar hanging on the back of his door. 

“Well, I was gonna surprise you tomorrow after your party, but since you're so impatient...” he sets his guitar back in her place of honor and approaches where you sit, and places his hands on either side of you, leaning in for a kiss. You accept happily, still a little confused, and sigh into his mouth. 

When you open your mouth slightly to invite him in, he teasingly licks into your mouth, pushing you back until you’re on your back with your legs dangling over the long side of his bed. You move to tangle your tongue with his and - 

You gasp when you feel the metal post stuck through his tongue, and he smiles wickedly into the kiss. He pulls away slightly and you gape at him in shock. 

“You like it, baby?” He asks before sticking his tongue out as far as it will go. The piercing glints in the light of his room, and you feel your body warm up considerably as you think of all the things he could do with it. You nod dumbly as he laughs at you and pulls your shit over your head. 

He wastes no time getting you both naked, and you laugh softly at him. Eddie kneels on the floor between your legs and hooks them over his shoulders. He presses some kisses to your inner thighs as his gaze locks in on your already wet cunt. 

Without warning, almost like he couldn’t hold back anymore, he licks a thick stripe from your hole to above your clit, making sure you can feel the piercing as he goes. The feeling has you choking on your breath as you struggle to figure out what to do with your hands. One goes to grip your breast while the other reaches down to grip his mess of curly hair. 

He is quick to work up a rhythm as he works on you, licking into your pussy and up to your clit as he circles with his piercing and them sucking your clit into his mouth. He moans into you as he savors your taste, making you reach your peak quickly. You gush against his face with a scream and pant heavily as you start to come down. He’s still licking at your oversensitive clit and you have to push him away so you can breathe. 

“Holy shit!” You gasp and laugh. He releases your legs from his shoulders and grins at you, wiping your orgasm off of his face before licking it off of his hand. 

You peek at him over your breast as you lay there spent. 

“Best. Birthday. Ever.” You tell him happily.  

#birds r us #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader

[itshoneywhatever]

🏎️💨 THE FORMULA 1 TAG GAME! 🏎️💨:

Thank you @linewire for the tag!! And sorry it took me so long to get to it ❤️‍🩹

1. Who or what got you into F1?

Tiktok started to bombard me with edits of Toto Wolff, and I became obsessed with the man. Then the edits turned to Max Verstappen and his sad past and how much he has accomplished. I couldn’t say no to those blue eyes. Then I watched DTS and that made me realize I will die defending Max.

2. Who was the very first F1 driver you supported? Do you support them now? Have your opinions on them differed or stayed the same since then?

It started with Max and it will end with Max. I think very highly of him, he has a good head on his shoulders and has calmed down quite a bit since he started racing.

3. Who’s your current favourite F1 driver?

Max Verstappen. Charles in second place and of course Sebastian Vettel 💞

Honorable mention to Fernando Alonso, Lando and Oscar 💞

4. Is there a driver pairing or pairings you support? What made you attracted to that pairing in the first place?

Lestappen, that’s my main ship in the F1 fandom. I also like Hamilton x Vettel, Landoscar, Dany Ric x Lando, Seb x Kimi.

5. Do your parents, siblings or relatives have a favourite

Back in the day, my mom was a Schumacher girlie, she now likes Hamilton. Doesn’t care much for the teams tho.

6. Do you have any favourite races? Are there any that stand out to you the most?

Singapore 2023 is the first race i watched live, so it’s kinda special for me in a sentimental way. I liked Qatar 2023 a lot, I know most of the drivers had a terrible time but the dominance Max has in that race, being the only driver no to get out of track limits, ot was simply insane. Qatar 2023 was insane and Max’s performance was a master class in driving.

7. Do you have a favourite circuit? Can be from the past or from the current calendar.

I haven’t seen all circuits live, that’s why i can’t say for sure I do have one. Monaco is iconic but i find it underwhelming. Abu Dhabi is a pretty good one i’d say.

8. Have you ever been to an F1 race in real life? Feel free to tell us your experience going to one if you like.

No, I haven’t. I would love to. Especially the Brazilian GP since is the closest to my country.

9. Have you ever met an F1 driver in real life?

No, i haven’t. I would love to, especially Max, Charles or Lando.

10. Do you have a favourite F1 car? If so, what is it?

Rocky 🥰

I’m pretty basic so I my favorite car is Max’s RB19 because it got him an unbelievable season in 2023.

11. Do you have a favourite one win wonder?

Oscar. He may not be a GP winner, but at least he’s a race winner and I love that for him.

12. Do you have any favourite quotes from the F1 world? This can either be inspirational or hilarious.

“Everyone is a Ferrari fan. Even if they say they're not, they are Ferrari fans” - Sebastian Vettel.

I hate it so much because it’s so goddamn true 😭 I’m a Red Bull girlie through and through but I can’t escape the love for Ferrari 😭

“Enjoy the butterflies. Enjoy being naive. Enjoy the nerves, the pressure, people not knowing your name, all that stuff.” - Daniel Ricciardo 💞

No pressure tags @il-predestinato @lestappenforever @auroralightsinwinter 💫

#f1 tag game #lestappen #max verstappen #red bull racing