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yuujispinkhair · 9 months

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Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna headcanons

After seeing this fanart, a sweet anon sent me this prompt: "Imagine that you are a simple girl in another tribe who attracted the leader Sukuna who at that moment came to negotiate with the leader of your tribe, he became interested in you and decided to make you his wife and cooperate with your people. So you left with him and began to live with him and give birth to his heirs."

Thank you so much for sending me this! When I saw the art, I was thinking of something along those lines, too! The picture reminded me of the tv show Vikings, so the following headcanons take place in that time.

Pairing: Viking!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Smut + fluff Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, arranged/forced marriage, virginity loss, blood, breeding, pregnancy, slight lactation kink, having children, miscarriage (Sukuna comforts reader afterwards. He doesn't just want her because of the heirs she can give him), general mentions of violence and human sacrifices. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared for his ruthlessness in battle and his strength that seems almost god-like. All the other tribes try to stay on his good side and forge alliances with him instead of giving him a reason to burn down their towns.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who looks so intimidating when he comes to visit your settlement. Tall and broad-shouldered with all those buff muscles on display and the bones of his enemies decorating his clothes.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you can't take your eyes off when you and the rest of your tribe gather in your leader's throne room and watch the negotiations. He sends shivers down your spine, but not just in a fear-inducing way, if you are honest. He is so enticing. Powerful and intelligent, and so attractive.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a beautiful man. His face is too pretty for a warrior. Not even his scars and tribal tattoos can hide his beauty. A smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, and his voice is calm and confident. He moves gracefully like a big cat, beautiful but deadly. He is the most stunning man you have ever seen, and you hang on every word that falls from his lips as if he carries ancient magic in his voice.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose icy blue eyes scan the crowd slowly, glittering like two precious jewels in the firelight illuminating the crowded room. Your breath catches in your throat when that intense gaze lands on you. You feel like a small animal trapped in the gaze of its hunter. Should you lower your head to show him your respect? Or will he take affront if you dare to look at anything else but him?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes the decision away from you when he smirks at you and laughs softly before he turns his attention back to your leader.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who announces his conditions for a peace treaty in a confident, demanding tone. The voice of a man who is used to getting what he wants. A man who knows he is too powerful to get turned down.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who suddenly points a long tattoed finger at you and speaks the words that will flip your whole world upside down, "And I want her."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your heart drop with his demand, but all you can do is stare at him in a mix of fear and excitement. A murmur runs through the crowd, and already, several hands are pressing against your back, shoving you towards Sukuna, making you stumble and screech as you are about to fall at his feet.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who catches you before you hit the ground, his muscular arms holding you easily, an amused smirk lighting up his handsome face, light blue eyes glittering in amusement as he drawls teasingly, "Aww, someone's eager to become my little wife, huh?"

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you sit on his lap that evening when a big feast is held in his honor and to seal the peace treaty with your tribe. You barely dare breathe, full of fear as you sit on his strong, muscled thighs, gasping when one of his large hands wanders under your skirt to squeeze your thigh possessively.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has two of his men stand guard in front of your door so no one will attack his future wife or maybe to prevent you from sneaking away. But you aren't even sure you want to run from him. Who are you here in your current tribe anyway? Just another orphan who grew up to help on one of the farms. Isn't this new role much more important? To be the bride of Ryomen Sukuna? To be a means that allows your tribe to prosper and ensures peace and trade with Sukuna?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large hand has a firm, unrelenting grip on your arm as he leads you to his horse the next morning. But he lets you say goodbye to all your loved ones, taking their blessings and well wishes with you before your future husband helps you onto his horse.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a rough man, but whose hands are surprisingly gentle when he lifts you onto the back of his giant horse. He sits behind you, his firm muscles pressing against your back, rippling with every move he makes. His muscular buff arms cage you in, keeping you captive or keeping you safe. You can't tell which one of the two it is.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes a conflict rage in your chest. On the one hand, you are scared of this dangerous big man who has the power to just demand to have you as if you are some cattle. On the other hand, you can't deny that small hidden part of you that feels excited that such a powerful and attractive man desires you enough to want to make you his wife.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your pulse flutter nervously when you feel his strong arms around you and hear him order his men around with his low, velvety voice, telling them to find a good resting place for the night.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses you roughly on that first night. His large hands that cup your face are calloused, but his lips are warm, and his tongue is soft and so skilled when he pries your mouth open and licks into it. It's nothing like the shy, clumsy kisses you shared with the boys in your settlement. Sukuna is a feared warrior, a powerful tribe leader, someone who people believe is actually the son of a god. And you can feel all that in his kiss. Deep and intense, making your head spin and your body brim with a desire you have never felt before.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rides with you again the next day and trails teasing kisses down your neck to pass the time during the long ride. You are sure he is fully aware of what he is doing to you. How he makes your heart race and makes a mix of fear and arousal throb in your veins. Especially when he grabs your chin to tilt your face up and capture your lips in a heated, wet kiss, licking unashamedly into your mouth in front of his men, showing everyone that you are his.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who whispers in your ear, "Are you scared of me, my little wife?" and then breaks out in loud, barking laughter when you exhale shakily and tell him, "Only a fool wouldn't be scared of you... but maybe I am also flattered that you picked me, my lord."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who still chuckles while his tongue licks a lazy stripe up the side of your neck, and he huskily tells you, "I am not a lord. I am a god. And I saw a goddess right there in that shabby throne room. I had to take you with me. It was a sign from the gods. You will give me such strong and beautiful children. Together, we can conquer the whole world."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who forces himself to keep his hands off you before your wedding night as a show of respect to the gods, but who lets you feel his desire for you when he hugs you from behind and presses his hardness against you once you have moved into his house.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has you dressed in the finest garments for your wedding day. A beautiful red dress lined with gorgeous white ermine fur that was specifically made for you. Your neck, wrists, and ears are decorated with glittering gold and precious gemstones.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you squeal when he swoops you up into his muscular arms and carries you into the ceremony hall, accompanied by the loud cheers of his people. Your hand is shaking when you exchange wedding rings with him, but you stay brave, speaking your vows and taking Sukuna's heavy sword when he offers it to you as his promise to protect you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who sacrifices several of his enemies to the gods to ask for their blessings for your marriage and your fertility. He looks scary with the pattern painted onto his face with fresh blood. But at the same time, it makes him look feral in a way that makes an unknown heat throb between your legs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shares his food and mead with you on the decadent feast held after the wedding ceremony, where you sit on the throne next to his. One of his strong arms stays wrapped around your waist the whole evening, and the deep glances he sends your way make your skin tingle with anticipation.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes your virginity that night, making you cry out in pain when his thick cock splits you open for the first time. But his lips silence your cry, and soon you make other noises. Loud moans of pleasure fall from your lips as your new husband moves inside you with deep and sure thrusts that hit a spot inside you that makes you scratch the broad muscles of his back and arch up against Sukuna's huge body. Your cunt throbs around his cock as you find the sweetest and most intense release you ever had.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who afterward pushes two of his long fingers into your used cunt to push his seed back into you, leaning down to kiss you savagely and murmuring in your ear that he wants to see your belly hard and swollen with his heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who paints his clan symbols on your face with a mix of your virginal blood and his cum, telling you that you are his forever and that you are blessed by the gods now too after taking his seed into you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is so proud when you show the first signs of pregnancy.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who becomes extremely protective and possessive now that you carry his heir. Who worships your body every night, cupping and kissing your swollen breasts, licking at the drops of milk that already spill from them, telling you it tastes like the nectar of the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large rough hands caress your swollen belly gently, who kisses it, and talks to your unborn child, telling his son, as he predicts, that he will be born under the blessing of the gods. That he will become a great leader and a god himself one day.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is triumphant when your first child is a boy with pink hair and a strong build and loud voice. A future leader just like his father. The first heir of many more to follow.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared by everyone but treats his wife and newborn child with a gentleness that surprises you. He asks you to let him hold your baby and carry him in his strong arms. And the way Sukuna looks at your child tells you that he doesn't just see little Yuuji as an heir but as someone who has Sukuna's heart.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose hungry and proud gaze follows you for days until he has you under him again, fucking you with hard, deep thrusts, moaning loudly, and pumping you full of his seed over and over again. "You gave me such a strong heir, my love. I know you'll give me so many more."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rushes to your side when you have a miscarriage during your second pregnancy. Who hugs you to his broad chest, wipes the sweat and blood off you, and cradles you in his arms.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses your tears away and reassures you when you are scared he will kick you out if you won't give him more heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shakes his head and tells you, "I mourn our unborn child, but I thank the gods for not taking my beloved wife away from me too. You are more to me than just a vessel that gives birth to my heirs. You are my wife, my companion, the one who the gods sent to me as my soulmate. I love you. Even if we have no more children, I will never take a new wife."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you see in a new light after the reassurance and love he gave you on that day. And suddenly, you find yourself falling in love with your husband, too. You treat him more tenderly. You caress his soft hair when the two of you cuddle in your bed to keep each other warm. You kiss the tattoos on his face and smile at him, your heart fluttering when Sukuna smiles back at you and pulls you into a slow, tender kiss. You will never forget the happiness in his eyes when you tell him you love him too.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who fucks you thoroughly that night until the two of you are sweating and rolling around on top of the warm furs, kissing and caressing each other needily while he fills you with his hot seed until you are overflowing from it.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is delighted when you give birth to your second child, and that child looks like the perfect mix of the two of you. He grins at you and tells you that this is clearly a child of love, conceived on the night you confessed your love to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is actually a caring husband who truly treasures you. Who likes to spend his nights with you wrapped under the warm furs, making slow love while he kisses you deeply, rolling his hips with those slow, languid moves that make you sob his name and come undone so sweetly on his cock.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who likes to hold you in his strong arms afterward, with your head resting on his broad chest and your small fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest and abs. He loves to talk to you for hours every night, telling you all about his day, about his current worries and plans, about political things and battle tactics, trusting you with all his secrets.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose love fills you with warmth even on the coldest winter days. Your heart is held securely in his strong hands. And you know that no one will dare lay a hand on you or your children in fear of Sukuna's wrath. His strength and power make you feel safe here in your new home.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who teaches you how to enjoy sex to the fullest. Who teaches you how to ride his cock and his face. Who teaches you how to take from him too. Because he is your husband, and that means he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who trusts you with ruling in his place during his absence. Who declares that anyone who disrespects you will get sacrificed to the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who keeps you on his thick, strong cock all night before he has to leave for one of his various exploration trips or battles, savoring you to the fullest. Making sure to fuck you so good that you will still feel him for days after he set sail.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who pulls you into his arms one last time before he boards the ship, kissing you deep and long. And there is this burning love in his blue gaze when he tells you, "I will do anything in my power to come back to you, my love. I have the gods on my side. But if, for whatever reason, they should decide it is my time to enter Valhalla, then I want you to know that I will wait there until you join the afterlife, too, and I will come find you, no matter where you are."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who luckily doesn't go to Valhalla and always comes back to you with more scars on his gorgeous body but with the same love in his eyes.

AAAHHH I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! This became much longer than I intended, but I really miss the show Vikings, and I love Viking!Sukuna to an insane amount, so it is what it is ;) This was, once again, very self-indulgent, but hopefully, some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it too! Thank you so much to the nice anon who sent me that prompt!

Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk smut #jjk fluff #sukuna x you #tw pregnancy #tw miscarriage

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pomefioredove · 5 days

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only one bed room

summary: it's the sdc and everyone's staying over at ramshackle but, oh no! you're one room and one bed short. being the generous (or gullible) soul that you are, you agree to share characters: all sdc competitors, separate additional info: fair warning I have no replayed book 5 in a while, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, most scenarios end in cuddles. can be interpreted as romantic or platonic (nix vil and rook's part)

Deuce Spade

"I don't mind sleeping on the floor!"

it's a big fat no from Vil. waking up sore and tired is unacceptable, and will affect his performance during practice. he will use the bed, end of story.

you offer to take the floor or one of the many stiff and uncomfortable couches in Ramshackle, but he refuses

what kind of aspiring honor student would he be if he kicked you out of your own room?

so, yes, you end up sharing the bed

he's a perfect gentleman about it

he insists on sleeping on the complete opposite end of the bed

to give you your space, of course

not because he's nervous

obviously it doesn't pan out- he's kind of a messy sleeper, and on the first night you wake up with him sprawled on top of you

you decide not to wake him up

you'd been thinking about saving for a weighted blanket, anyway

Ace Trappola

"you better not hog the blankets,"

takes it like a champ, though he might be screaming internally

he already sleeps in a dorm with three other guys- this can't be any different, right?

it totally is

sharing a bed with someone? someone he likes, who he isn't just forced to live with for convenience?

he's not sure how to tease you about this one without coming off as nervous himself

so he just shuts his trap about it (for once) and accepts his fate

in the end, it's no big deal for a player like him

he ends up hogging the blankets, though. hypocrite.

Kalim al-Asim

"YAYYY SLEEPOVER!"

he means exactly what he says

not a care in the world

all he's thinking about is how fun this is going to be! just him and his favorite Ramshackle prefect (Grim heard the news and will be staying in deuce's room to avoid any cracker mishaps)

Kalim, admittedly, is not a creature of great thought. he tends to be dictated by his feelings, and he can be a little selfish sometimes

so when Jamil pulled him aside and asked him to just buy another bed for ramshackle, he ignored him entirely

why would he do that? the situation is resolved, and everyone's happy!

well... not everyone, but Kalim's happy!

he stocks up on Vil-approved snacks, insists you two braid each other's hair and stay up late into the night talking with no one to remind you to go to sleep

(he tried to invite Jamil and got the door slammed in his face)

this arrangement lasts approximately one night

when Vil sees the dark circles under your eyes, it's over

you are confined to the couch, and Kalim is forced to sleep alone

Jamil Viper

"okay,"

really. he's totally fine with it.

besides the fact that he doesn't want to cause any more trouble, he's shared beds with his siblings before. no big deal

he just wasn't expecting to wake up with you snuggled against him

but this is fine

totally fine

he's barely conscious and it's early morning, still dark, the time he's used to getting up at

Vil has things covered, right? he can stay here for a little while longer. it would be awkward trying to get up without waking you

it feels nice having something all to himself for once

he smirks, imagining how jealous everyone else would be:

the beautiful, kind, intelligent ramshackle prefect in his arms? oh, the looks on their faces would almost make this whole thing worth it!

but in the end, he decides to say nothing

he wants to keep you all to himself, after all

for just a little while longer

Epel Felmier

"ain't no way I'm sharing!"

that's what he says in his head, anyway. but it's late and he's worn out from practice (and being shouted at) so he just sighs and accepts his fate

of course Vil would make him do it. it's probably because he's the smallest, isn't it?

you can tell he's unhappy with the arrangement (not that he's making much of a secret of it- he's grumbling under his breath all evening)

he starts coming around to the idea when he wakes up holding something warm

his heart jumpstarts and he nearly panics before remembering where he is

and then he realizes the thing he's holding is... you. somehow the two of you had ended up spooning during the night

but, more importantly... he's the big spoon!

he's almost tempted to wake you to announce that he, in all his manly glory, had naturally assumed the most masculine cuddling position!

(yes he sounds ridiculous. just let him have this one)

he lets you sleep, though. just a little more won't hurt anyone, right?

he's okay with the arrangement after that

Rook Hunt

"I will do it!"

Vil isn't even able to finish his sentence before the vice housewarden is practically jumping up and down

pretty much everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief; a volunteer! thank the sevens. otherwise, this could get awkward...

of course, he quite intentionally ends up with you in his arms

but not for any nefarious purpose, he insists!

he's a light sleeper, and can be stirred by any sudden noise or movement

you appeared to be having some kind of nightmare

it reminds him of a small animal caught in a trap, struggling for its life. he can't bear to see it- it's cruel to let a poor creature go on suffering before you can make the kill

of course, instead of killing you (thank the sevens), he decides to comfort you

he presses your head against his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, and he runs his fingers through your hair until you calm down.

then he keeps you there, just to be sure you don't have another bad dream

if you gave him permission, he would gladly be all over you in seconds. kissing up and down your shoulders, caressing every perfect inch of your body, whispering words of admiration

but he's perfectly content just cradling you for now

hopefully, you will continue to have these nightmares and give him excuses to do this again

Vil Schoenheit

"don't argue with me,"

initially, you just gave him the bed

maybe you were afraid of him; maybe you like him; maybe you just wanted to avoid a conflict altogether

either way, you spent the first night on the terribly uncomfortable floor, and trudged through Ramshackle like a zombie the next morning

Vil was feeling guilty watching you

what? he's not a monster

and he's a leader, which means he has a responsibility. and you had so graciously invited them all into your home...

fine! he'll share. he insists, even

when you try to argue, he shuts you down, repeating all that stuff about responsibility and hospitality, blah blah

and he doesn't want the team manager dead on their feet

arguing with him is pointless, so you just agree

he wakes up with you against him, sleeping peacefully

now, if it were you clinging to him- he might have had a good chuckle. can't keep your hands to yourself, prefect? I'm just that irresistible?

but the way he's holding you, the way his arms are so tightly wrapped around your waist, the way he's so clearly pressing you against him...

he hates to admit it, but you're an elegant sleeper. it's almost cute

the tension is relieved from your face, your breathing graceful and steady, and your perfect lips open just a sliver...

he is a perfect gentleman, and would never dream of doing anything without your explicit permission, but for one shameful second he thinks about how easy it would be to kiss you

... and then he quickly puts those thoughts aside and tries to get back to sleep

he doesn't want any dark circles, after all

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #lies down. forever #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #epel felmier x reader #rook hunt x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 months

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David and Michael interview with Emily Aslanian for TV Insider, 10.7.2023 :)

David: So Gabriel shows up at Aziraphale's bookshop naked. He's lost his memory. Where does that leave our good heroes?

Michael: Well, Aziraphale, for someone who is of a slightly nervous disposition, for a naked... his ex boss to turn up outside his bookshop in Soho in the daytime, naked and wanting a hug, is not necessarily what Aziraphale had on his bingo card that day. But once he comes in and Aziraphale has to take him in, we discover that there is a mystery to be solved.

David: Yes.

Michael: And Aziraphale enjoys a mystery, but doesn't enjoy things like the end of the world or the stakes being that high.

David: He enjoys the mystery a little too much for Crowley's like.

Michael: He does a little bit.

David: Crowley just wants this sorted and he doesn't want you indulging your fantasy of being a private eye.

Michael: That's right, Aziraphale gets to really enjoy that. But they are forced, you know, they're a team of two now anyway, because they become detached from their respective head offices. But this forces them together even more. They've only got each other to rely on and they have to solve this mystery. And the clock is ticking. So it starts a whole chain of events that starts off potentially not being as high stakes as Season One. But as it goes along, we realise the apocalypse was just the beginning.

David: It was nothing! It was a mere bagatelle! How much time passes between Series One and Series Two. Do we know exactly?

Michael: I don't know exactly. But things have changed, obviously, between... I mean, Aziraphale is thoroughly enjoying himself. He's sort of got what he wanted, which is to be able to be in his bookshop, listen to music, watch shows, eat nice meals, drink wine, hang out with Crowley. He's a little disconcerted by not having the company behind him because he's such a company man. So that's a bit strange. But Crowley is...

David: It's not worked out quite so well for Crowley. He has the liberation of being free from Hell breathing down his neck. But he has lost the company apartment. So he is living in his car now with his pot plants. So circumstances are slightly reduced for him and he can't quite let go because we see him on a park bench catching up with Miranda Richardson's character Shax, who's taken over from him, trying to dig up a bit of gossip and find out what's really going on. So they have the freedom of not being watched over. But for Crowley, it's not worked out quite as well as perhaps he imagined.

Michael: What are they looking for in each other, I wonder?

David: In each other...

Michael: Well, I mean, I think, they sort of... on the surface, the things that annoy them the most about each other are actually what they are most compelled by.

David: Crave, yes, yes.

Michael: And so they’re sort of bound together, aren’t they? In all kinds of ways. I think Aziraphale is both infuriated and maddened and very stressed out by Crowley’s constant questioning of things. Things that Aziraphale thinks are just… those are the rules. Crowley being a sort of rule breaker and a rule bender, he finds incredibly stressful. And yet I think that’s sort of what he craves.

David: Drawn to.

Michael: He’s drawn to that.

David: Irrepressibly.

Michael: Yes.

David: Yes. And I think probably Aziraphale’s very consistency and very even-temperedness is something that Crowley kind of craves as well. There’s a sort of security in that which he doesn’t really get anywhere else. But, yes, they bicker away, but clearly with the security of a couple who know they can't really exist without each other. But I don't think... they never really admit what they are to each other. There's sort of understanding that they've only really got each other now, and therefore they rely on each other hugely. And, you know, as soon as Aziraphale is in trouble, he calls up Crowley to come and help him. There's no question there's...

Michael: Someone once said, what do any of us have but our illusions? And what do we ask of anyone but that we be allowed to keep them?

David: That's... who once said that? Should I not ask you that?

Michael: Don't ask me.

David: Don't ask you that.

Michael: Let me just say that.

David: It's lovely.

Michael: And sounds clever.

David: Michael Sheen once said something about illusions. It was really nice.

Michael: Whenever you hear someone say, 'A wise man once said', it's usually me.

David: It is usually you.

#good omens #michael sheen #david tennant #david and michael #dm #tv insider #interview #michael interview #david interview #david and michael interview #ac #tv insider 2023 #good omens meta #fun fact #s2 interview #videos #transcripts #video interview

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hairmetal666 · 8 months

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Read Part One here

cw: implied child abuse

Eddie's coming over for coffee. Not Eddie with Nancy and Robin or Eddie with the kids. Just Eddie.

They haven't been alone in 9 years and now Eddie is coming over for coffee.

They're friends, of course. After Vecna they didn't have much of a choice, but they've never talked about it--that they used to be something.

After Steve kissed Eddie goodbye for what turned out to be the last time, they didn't see each other again for months and months, except for a devastatingly fleeting moment in the Family Video parking lot. And the next time after that, Eddie's pinning him to the wall of a rickety boathouse, a broken bottle to his throat.

What's going through his mind, his body, at that moment is relief. For days, weeks, months, he ached for Eddie's touch again, and even though he was in danger, he relished in the push of their bodies together. Thought, if this is how he dies, he won't mind going.

But they don't talk about it, about them, because Eddie is on the run and Max is going to die, and they have to save the world, so there's no time. In the aftermath, it's the least of their worries, and now it's been almost a decade and Eddie is coming over for coffee.

The thing is, it's not like Steve has been pining away for a love long lost in the intervening years, and neither has Eddie. They've both had longterm, serious relationships; Steve almost got married. But for Steve...Eddie is the one that's lingered, the one that knocks around his ribcage on late sleepless nights, the one that makes him dream of what might have been. Because Steve truly loved his other partners, but Eddie--nobody will ever compare.

Someone is knocking a rhythm at his front door, and he can't stifle his smile even as his heart runs riot in his chest.

"Hey, man," he says, remarkably nonchalant as he takes Eddie in. Still beautiful, still brimming with energy; his smile wide and dimpled, bouncing on his toes.

"Harrington!" Eddie grabs him into a quick side hug, slapping his back. "Since when do you wear glasses?"

Steve chuckles, touching the horn-rimmed frames. "Oh, god, Robin forced me to get them back in '87? Too many concussions." He touches his forehead. "I usually just wear contacts."

"It's a good look," Eddie says. He's very much not looking at Steve, eyes roaming around the Chicago apartment he's been to many times before.

He watches as Eddie spots the display of his own books, index finger slowly slipping across the spines in a way that makes Steve remember when those same fingers would slide down his spine. He stifles a shiver, turns towards the kitchen.

"So, how's New York? How's the book coming?"

"Livin' the dream." It's not flippant, not like how most people mean it. Eddie leaks genuineness, always has. "The book though...it's a little rough."

Steve sets the coffee maker going, brings fresh pastries and a couple plates over to the table. "I can imagine. It doesn't--it doesn't have to be the same, you know?"

"Yeah, if only I hadn't written three other books leading up to the evil mind wizard," Eddie chuckles. He grabs a croissant and tears it in half. "It'll be alright, Harrington. I'll figure it out. I lived through it the first time, after all."

Steve doesn't remind him that he almost didn't, that they almost didn't. Instead, he pours coffee, listens as Eddie talks about how to fictionalize the worst month of their collective lives.

He splashes milk into Eddie's coffee, taps in three scoops of sugar. He carries it to where Eddie waits, still talking about the logistics of Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One in his novel, but his words abruptly stop as his hands wrap around the porcelain.

"Steve?"

It's only then that Steve realizes what he's done--made Eddie's coffee like he took it back then, made it without thinking, totally on muscle memory, when the best of his mornings were spent in Eddie's arms.

His cheeks glow crimson and he grips at the back of his neck. "S-sorry." He says. "It--is this still how you take it?"

"Yeah." Eddie's eyes fall from Steve's face, his own cheeks pink. "It's--yeah. Still the same."

"I'm sorry--"

"--Steve, I--"

They don't laugh. They both stop speaking and look at each other, faces still red. Steve thinks there's nothing for it but to get it all out now.

"I'm sorry, Eddie." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never came back. I'm sorry I didn't explain why. I'm just--really, really sorry."

Eddie's eyes are hooked on the table top, fingers twisting and twisting his coffee mug. "Can I--why? I waited and you--why?"

Steve swallows, but it gets stuck in his throat, and now he's the one who can't look up from his hands.

"My parents got home early," he manages. "My dad, he was waiting for me. I guess one of the neighbors thought it best to tell them who I'd been spending my time with."

Silence falls over the table, and he chances a look up at the man across from him, the one whose knuckles bite into his lips, whose eyes shine with unshed tears.

"You should've called me. You should've--you could've stayed with us. We would've kept you safe."

"Eddie, I couldn't. I physically couldn't," the admission costs him so much.

"Steve," Eddie chokes on his name, voice nothing but anguish. "Did anyone--You could've--you were all alone."

He shakes his head. "Robin knew. She snuck through my window to take care of me, but my parents--I couldn't--" This time the words really won't come. "We made a plan. We started that job at Family Video, and we saved up our money."

Now, Eddie's face is creased with grief. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

Steve shakes his head, smiles despite the wreckage around his heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I left you with no explanation. I broke your heart. And--and--" He thinks, what does it hurt to say it at this point. "I love you. I love you so much. I convinced myself you were better off without me, that we could have a clean break and you could get over me."

Eddie's hands cover his face, muffle the sob that slips out. "Get over you?" He whispers. "There's never been one like you, sweetheart."

He slides around the table to kneel at Eddie's side. "Hey." Deep brown eyes stare back at him, Eddie's face wet with tears. "It's always you, Ed. Always. I didn't want to say anything, if you had moved on, but--"

There's not really any transition from them talking to them kissing; Steve slips into it like he did all those years ago, when he first asked for Eddie's kiss. Their mouths slot together, their bodies fit like they always used to, perfect puzzle pieces. Steve's knees give out at the first brush of Eddie's tongue, and they collapse into a heap on the kitchen floor. Even then, they don't part.

Eventually, Steve does break the embrace, face flushed and hair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear. "Okay, trying to be responsible here. Should we take a pause, go on a date first? Slow down?"

"Nine years isn't slow enough?" Eddie's pupils are blown, hair frizzed around his head.

"When you put it that way," Steve can't help but laugh. "I just want to do right by you, Eddie. Make up for--everything."

Eddie grins down at him, that sunshine beam smile where his dimples pop. "Tell you what, how bout you take me to bed now, and I'll let you take me on a date tomorrow?"

"Oh, you'll let me?" Steve rakes a hand through Eddie's mane of hair. "I don't think you'll have any choice."

"You sure about that, Stevie?" Their lips are so close, the brush with every word.

"Uh-huh," Steve's having trouble keeping his eyes focused, overwhelmed by the sheer force of Eddie Munson. "Never letting you go again, Ed."

Surprise! Part 2! I genuinely had no intention on doing a follow-up, but so many of you asked so nicely that it gave me this idea. Sorry if I miss anyone in the tag list and thank you for reading! @everywherenothere @tiny-enthusiast @emma-elsa-0000 @fuzzyduxk @moonythepluviophile @anaibis @rhapsodyinalto @bunk12bear @tillystealeaves @velocitytimes2 @s-trawberryv-eins @marklee-blackmore @ignoremyworld @its-a-me-a-morgan @goodolefashionedloverboi @starman-jpg @djohawke @adaydreamaway08

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #getting back together #mutual pining #fluff #ficlet #part 2 #time jump #a tiny bit of angst #here's the happy ending #implied child abuse #part one was august i guess part two is the one #we were something don't you think so #and if my wishes came true it would've been you #jk eddie is the one #they're in love your honor #steve's parents are pieces of shit

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mcflymemes · 7 months

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"I WASN'T EXPECTING YOU TO CHANGE MY LIFE" PROMPTS * assorted dialogue for that moment where one character realizes how great of an impact the other has had on them, adjust as necessary

you're nothing like i imagined.

you changed... everything.

i didn't think this would have such a great impact on me, but it does.

i'm glad to call you my friend.

you don't know what you do to me.

ever since you came into my life, my whole world looks different.

my world was black and white until i met you. now it's full of color.

i didn't plan for this. i didn't plan for you.

i don't know what i'd do if you left.

we made it out of there because of you.

i thought i was prepared for someone like you. turns out i wasn't.

you have no idea what you've done to me.

everything would be so quiet without you here.

are you real? do you really exist? or did i dream you up?

you stood up for me when no one else would.

you're more than i bargained for, and that's a compliment.

i thought you'd be different. boring, maybe.

you don't even realize your impact, do you?

i find myself questioning everything.

all of a sudden i care about things that i never did before, all because of you.

you've changed countless lives for the better.

i'm forever in your debt, [name].

i don't even want to consider what would have happened had you not been there.

there's more to life now that you're here.

you opened my eyes.

i have much more to consider, now that you're here.

you really don't see it? how much you've changed me for the better?

there's just something about you.

i wasn't expecting you to change my life... but you did.

you have such a positive impact on everything around you.

when they told me you were coming, i didn't know what to expect.

i can't imagine how many lives you've touched.

everyone else is so predictable and boring, but you're not.

you pointed me in the right direction, and for that, i'm forever grateful.

i was lost without you.

you fought for me.

nothing made sense before you.

you've shown me so much of the world that i didn't know existed.

i'd still be stuck there if it wasn't for you.

i'm serious. you changed my life.

suddenly i'm forced to think about a future... a future with you in it.

i'll never be the same again.

i appreciate everything you've done for me.

you stuck your nose out for me.

they didn't care about me, but you did.

i'm so grateful our paths crossed.

this place will never be the same when you leave.

i can't thank you enough for all you've done for me.

you didn't have to do that for me, but you did.

i didn't know people like you existed.

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radiocrypt-id · 1 year

Text

Elody is tragic, I think, in a way that feels very close to home?

She's a woman that met someone interesting and strange and became friends with him, happy to have a friend around, since her parents are too sick to be in her life all the time. She was a little girl forced to grow up so fast, to take every type of class and feel the weight of her station on her shoulders every day, growing closer to the time she has to step up and take over, desperate to be deserving of the title. Desperate to do her parents proud.

And she's got this friend now, this sweet, gross little frog that talks and says he's a prince. His story is a strange and sad one, one she maybe can't fully understand but offers what support and sympathy she can. If she even believes him, I'm not sure she really does. And he's funny. He makes her laugh, reminds her of the fun of the world, encourages her to take care of herself and enjoy things as often as possible, reminds her to be young and happy and live freely. And she needs that. She needs someone to look her in the eyes and tell her it's okay to be a kid. It's okay to play with her ball in the woods and it's okay to sing and dance and get dressed up and do the fun parts of being a princess. He brings her joy that she hasn't had in a long time. She loves that about him, how fun and silly and clumsy he is, it's charming. She falls in love with that silly frog.

But then Snowhold comes. They have no allies, their armies are failing, their people are dying and she's up all night going over maps and strategy at a table of advisors and generals and is so stressed and trying so hard. But her silly frog is still a silly frog. He thinks about balls and good food and safe castle walls. He tells her to relax, enjoy a meal, gossip about the nobles, have fun. He hasn't changed. But she's being forced to change. Now that silly levity isn't charming and fun, it's frustrating. She doesn't have time for games and can't see how hard he's trying to make her smile. She needs a Prince, a man to stand beside her at the war table and talk tactics and look for ways to save their home and people. She needs a fighter, a hero. But Gerrard has never been a hero, he's a frog. Elody was the hero. She saved him. And she's so exhausted by being the hero. She's always taking care of someone else. She just wants to be taken care of. She just wants help. It's hard to love someone the same way in times of trouble. It's hard to find the space in all the stress and work to love Gerrard the way she did when they met.

Elody does still love him though. She does. It's a painful sort of love, in believing that he's never going to change and be what she needs him to be, in that she's always going to be the hero for him. But she loves him. She carries a shield with a lillypad on it, she wields a mace with the golden ball as part of it, she's actively carrying him with her. She's thinking of her silly little frog and hoping he's safe, where ever he's gone to hide and when it's all over, when she's saved everyone and made everything better, she'll go find him again. And then she can take him to a ball, like he wanted. She wishes he was different, but doesn't think he'll change.

Imagine what she'll find, when they meet again? Her silly little frog is still silly and clumsy and thinking about her constantly, but he's a hero now. He fought and died with his friends. He's twice upon a time. He's been Outside, in The Lines Between. He's a fighter now, he's brave, he's friends with death itself. He's a commander, great at group tactics, vital to their group. And he's got a couple kids around him, that he's exhausted by but loves in some way. He scolds them and encourages them and he's kind of a dad? And he's been looking for her, not hiding. He's been trying to find her since he left, regretting leaving her behind but really not sure how he would have helped. And he loves her, god he loves her. Even as he turns into a frog from her falling out of love with him, Gerrard loves Elody. He loves her enough to be brave, to learn the things he never got a chance to learn before, to take care of others.

Elody is so loved, and she has no idea. She loves him enough to take care of everything by herself, holding onto what parts of him she has space for during this horrible time. But Gerrard loves her enough to die trying to find her.

She has to be his hero, she never had a choice in that, but unlike most cases in life, he's trying to be her hero too, and she has no idea.

#neverafter gerard #neverafter #d20 neverafter #pinocchio neverafter #dimension 20 #elody of greenleigh #princess elody #neverafter elody #gerard

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frantic-fiction · 21 days

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Hear me out… my TAV’s background is that she was a sex worker that was sold into the trade from a young age, and this has been her chance to break free, and she’s romancing Astarion and he’s the first person she slept with that she CHOSE to and WANTED to, and all I can think of is the “you were just a transaction” line he has… and maybe he says it to her because he freaks out and is scared of his feelings? Just something SO angsty, HEAVY groveling, happy ending??

My heart ugh you monster (I love you 🥰)

I don't write angst very often. This was incredibly fun and heartbreaking to write...and I might have gone a little too melodramatic with it. Hopefully this lives up to what you were imagining!!

Transaction

Astarion x gn!reader

Warnings: Angst with a slightly happy ending, implied that reader was a sex worker, if I missed anything major let me know

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

Transaction.

Just a transaction.

You were just a transaction.

It's a bitter realization that hits you like a cold wave crashing over your very being. How naive of you to believe that someone could see beyond your body? To look deeper than sex and find all the quirks and vulnerabilities underneath. The person who savors the taste of sweet rolls and red wine, who secretly indulges in cheesy romance novels but would never admit it out loud. The person who was forced to do unspeakable things but still stands strong in this cruel world.

You thought he understood. After all the nights spent sharing your history, baring your soul, and listening to him bear his own, you dared to hope he would be different. How could you have been so blind, so naive, to succumb to the romantic fantasy of finding someone who saw and understood the scars you carried and loved you all the same?

How could he do this? The laughter you once shared under starlight and the kisses captured behind tent flaps all feel hollow all merely a performance to win you over for his benefit alone. How could you have been so blind to his true intentions? Was it the desperation for connection that clouded your judgment, or simply the yearning for love you so desperately craved?

The signs were there. Astarion's gradual withdrawal began after the events at Moonrise Towers. You convinced yourself it was merely that the group was finally back in the city. You hoped that a night alone together would help. But hope was a fragile illusion.

Instead of finding solace in each other's arms, you are standing on the precipice of your unraveling. Each word, each action, reinforces the painful truth that you were nothing more than a pawn in his game—a transaction to be exploited for his gain. And as you grapple with the emptiness gnawing at your chest, you can't help but wonder why you failed to see it coming.

"Hey, Soldier."

The voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts, pulling you back to the present moment. Blinking slowly, you find yourself in the dimly lit confines of an alleyway, the stench of decay mingling with the chill of the night air.

Moving like you're wading through water, you turn towards the voice. You stare blankly at Karlach, who kneels beside you with concern and caution as if approaching a frightened animal.

You sluggishly realize—you're the frightened animal.

Behind her stands Halsin, his attempt at a reassuring smile falling short in the face of your obvious distress.

"We were getting worried about you," Karlach murmurs, her usual cheer tempered by genuine concern.

"I'm sorry," you croak, your voice raw with emotion.

You don't remember when the tears began falling, but they nonetheless stain your cheeks.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Halsin assures, his voice a soothing balm to your battered soul.

Wrapped in a cloak infused with the scent of pine and honey-suckle, you allow yourself to be guided through the silent streets of Baldur's Gate, the passage of time seeming to have slipped through your fingers like grains of sand.

How long have you been lost in your despair?

"He, As—" you choke on his name, the pain of his betrayal still fresh in your heart.

"You don't have to explain anything. Not to us," Karlach interjects, her hand a steady anchor in the tumultuous sea of your emotions.

"Thank you," you whisper, gratefully.

The journey back to the Elfsong Tavern is a silent procession, your footsteps echoing in the empty streets as you grapple with the weight of your shattered reality. Once inside, you are ushered into a bed. Gale gives you a sleep draught while Shadowheart heals your shredded palms, which you didn't realize you injured in your dissociation. After that, you're left with a fleeting moment of peace.

No one mentions the absence of a familiar presence, but the void he left behind looms large in the silence that envelops you.

From his vantage point on the rooftops, Astarion watches as Tav is led back to the safety of the tavern. Their frail form is a stark reminder of the havoc he has wrought. Guilt gnaws at his insides, punishment for the pain he has inflicted upon the one person who saw past the facade he so meticulously crafted—the person who began to love him.

He feels sick to his stomach, the weight of his actions crushing him beneath its burden. With each passing moment, the memory of Tav's heartbroken expression sears into his mind, the irreparable damage he has caused.

Astarion wishes he could take back the venomous words that slipped from his lips and erase the pain etched upon Tav's face. He wishes he could confess the truth that lies buried beneath layers of deceit and self-preservation and admit the depth of his feelings without fear of rejection or abandonment. Pull them into his arms, kiss away the tears, and whisper all the love Tav deserves to hear.

But wishes hold little sway when your world is governed by fear.

You allow yourself one day to mourn, to grieve for the shattered illusions that once held sway over your heart. But with the dawn comes the realization that there is no room for weakness. You steel yourself against the pain, burying it deep beneath a facade of strength and determination. You still have a tadpole in your skull and a city to save.

The days blur into nights, a relentless cycle of action and exhaustion that leaves little room for introspection or regret. You throw yourself into the fray, tackling each challenge with a ferocity born of desperation and resolve.

Nights, however, offer no respite from the torment that threatens to consume you whole. In the darkness, when the world is shrouded in shadows and silence, the memories come rushing back with a vengeance.

Astarion's parting words echo in the recesses of your mind, a relentless refrain that serves as a painful reminder of your naive hopes. Despite the anger and betrayal simmering beneath the surface, you still hope Astarion's safe. Deep down, you still care for him.

It was another restless night. You were digging through your travel pack when a hesitant knock hit the sturdy wooden door of your room. It was late, but it was not unusual for Karlach or Shadowheart to pop in and check on you. Standing up, you stowed your pack away and moved to the door. Your socked feet padded against the wooden floor.

"Shouldn't you be asle—" The words die in your throat, and your stomach drops as you're faced with the man you've been trying to forget.

Astarion looked terrible. His hair was a frizzy mess, curls sticking out in unruly strands. He had dark purple circles under his eyes and hollow cheeks. His clothes–the same ones he left in–were covered in a splatter of mud and grime. At that moment, Astarion had never looked more like a corpse. Where had he been?

"Tav," his voice was a whisper, laden with sorrow that pierced through the still air.

The sound of your name on his lips was like a knife twisted in an old wound, reopening the fragile scare you hastily tried to heal over the last two weeks. You recoiled instinctively, the pain of his presence threatening to ruin you all over again. You couldn't afford to unravel not again, not when so many counted on you. With wide eyes brimming with unshed tears, you turned away to flee.

But Astarion's desperation refused to be ignored. His hand shaking with uncertainty, he reached to halt the closing door. "Wait! Please, Tav," he pleaded. "I know you owe me nothing, but I beg you, let me say this, and you'll never have to see me again."

Your throat tightened, a lump choking back the bitter retorts that threatened to spill out. The impulse claws at your conscience, tempting you. Yet, the crack of Astarion's voice, the tremor of vulnerability that seeps from him, holds your tongue.

With a heavy sigh, you relented, the door inching open just enough to meet his gaze. "Two minutes," you whispered.

Astarion's relief was palpable. "Gods, Tav, I'm so sorry," he began each syllable, a testament to the regret that weighed on him. "You can hate me for eternity, and I would deserve it. But I need you to know that every word I spoke to you was a lie."

A tear traces a path down his cheek, and you long to reach out and wipe it away—to soften the turmoil on his beautiful face and erase the sorrow that consumes his glistening eyes. But instead, you tighten your fist against your thigh and stare up at him blankly, waiting for him to continue.

"I need you to know that I pursued you instinctually because I needed someone on my side, someone to trust me," he continued his voice a fragile whisper against the silence. "But then you showed me love and happiness and became so much more. You were… you are… more than I deserve. And I hurt you, and I will carry that with me forever."

"Astarion," you began, the syllables catching in your throat, suffused with a longing you dared not acknowledge. But before you could find the words again, he spoke once more, voice quivering with regret.

"I love you, Tav," Astarion confessed, the words lingering in the silent room. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, but before I leave, I need you to know you are more than sex and safety. More than a Gods damn transaction."

"Astarion,"

"And I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for ruining the one good thing in—"

"Astarion!" You grab his arm, ceasing his frantic apology. You're stunned, standing on the threshold of your room, feeling more confused than ever. Love? How are you supposed to feel when the man who tore you apart is telling you he loves you?

Astarion's eyes widen in surprise, his breath catching in his throat as he meets your gaze. His eyes swim with a mix of hope and despair.

The weight of his confession presses down on you, threatening to suffocate. Wordlessly, you walk back into the room, leaving the door open for Astarion to follow. Collapsing onto a chair, you rub your face, struggling to make sense of your raging emotions. The heartbreak and betrayal are still so fresh, but the sincerity in Astarion's regret seems to chip away at your defense.

"I don't know what to say,"

"I… I understand," Astarion murmurs, his resignation soaking his words. I'll leave you be. I promise you won't see me again, Tav."

But as he turns to leave, the ache in your chest intensifies, the void he leaves behind widening with each step. And that moment, despite the pain, the betrayal, and your base instinct to shut him out entirely, you still care for him. Maybe even love him, too.

"Astarion, wait, you call out, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them. "Stay."

He freezes mid-step, his back turned to you, body tense with anticipation.

"Please," you plead, the word heavy with the weight of your conflicting emotions. "Just don't go."

Astarion slowly turns to face you, his expression a mix of disbelief and hope, his eye shining with more unshed tears. The silence stretches in the room. Hesitantly, with slow steps, he walks to the seat beside yours. The two of you sit there momentarily, unsure where that left you.

Tentatively, you reach out and take his cold hand into your warm one. "You hurt me," you start, not looking over at the man but feeling his intense stare. You betrayed my trust, and I can't just forget that."

"I understand." Astarion's shoulders slump in defeat. "I didn't expect…"

"But I care for you," You interrupt, squeezing his hand softly. "I haven't been able to stop worrying about you since you left. I don't think I can handle you leaving again."

"Okay," Astarion says, simply rubbing soothing circles into the back of your hand. "So what now?"

"I don't know, but I'm willing to figure it out if you are?"

"There is nothing I'd like more,” he responds, pressing a tentative kiss to your knuckles.

Taglist

@heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive @skittleabyss @asterordinary @lariatbunny @whispering-depths @butchboi-chihuahua-slumlord @darkest-part-of-the-forest @queenofcarrotflowers-s @sessils @d20bunny@cherifrog@ophelia-ophelian @bgthree @darlingxdragon @mothynyx @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @babyqnn @mmendez0124 @kokoyu-art @lilah-asteria

Want to be added to the taglist? DM me please!

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #bg3 #reader insert #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 tav #baldur's gate #karlach #shadowheart #fanfic #frantic fiction

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grison-in-space · 2 months

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worker uprisings are not an upside.

I see this rhetoric here all the time, and it drives me up the wall. So you're all getting a good rant here: a worker uprising is not good.

The worker uprisings that bought the NLRB paid for it in blood and lives, and another uprising means that we will have to find the price to buy it again. And there will be families, people, and lives blighted in the meantime. Worker uprisings are not upsides for anyone and they are not fucking consolation prizes. They happen when things go bad, horribly bad, and they generally only result in positive change insofar as they create so much chaos, bloodshed, and disruption that the overall situation has to change. In the mean time, people are still left dead, destitute, and maimed. If we can avert a worker uprising by using nonviolent means of pressure to force accountability, we should do that, because it results in vastly more stable outcomes for everyone. If this pissant, damn-fool shortsighted Supreme Court decision goes through and violence is the only remaining option to enforce change that anyone sees, that is a bad thing.That is not a flood gift. People will die fixing that bullshit. People did die fixing that bullshit!

You know how we got the NLRB the first time, back in 1935?

It took almost fifty years of labor unrest in the United States before we got the NLRB. Let's start with the Great Railroad Strike of 1877 (which was majorly disruptive but happened before labor unionizing was widespread). That's a great template for your fucking worker's uprising: there's no union leadership to coordinate fury and direct it properly, so when workers lose their shit after the third goddamn time wages get cut (not "fail to keep the pace of inflation," actually "you get less money now"), they all kind of do things on impulse without thinking much about long term strategy. The fury just erupts. In the case of the Great Railroad Strike, angry workers burned factories and facilities, seized rail facilities, paralyzed commerce networks, and existing power structures panicked and called out militias, National Guard units, and federal troops to forcibly suppress the workers. About a hundred people died.

Let me pop a cut down while I talk about what happened next. Spoiler: there's a lot of violence under the hood coming up, and like all violence, it absolutely sloshes around and hits people who aren't necessarily directly involved in conflicts.

You have continuing incidences of violence over strikes throughout the next several decades as nonviolent strikes are met with violence from pro-employer forces and workers resist with violence back. I can't even list all the violent incidents here that ended in deaths, because they were frequent. The 1892 Coeur d'Alune labor strike broke out into an actual shooting war and resulted in a number of deaths, not to mention months of detainment for six hundred protesting miners; the same year, you have another shooting war kicked off between hundreds of massed paid private Pinkerton security and striking workers in Pittsburgh through the Homestead Strike. Imagine how that's going to go down today.

And the thing about violence like this, and tolerance for violence, is that eventually you just get used to using it to get your way. You actually also do see quite a bit of violence conducted by striking labor workers, sometimes without recent provocation from management. For example, the national International Association of Bridge Structural Iron Workers embarked on a campaign of bombings from 1906-1911 that eventually culminated in a bombing of the office of the LA Times that killed 20 people. Do you want to live in a world where the only way to resolve conflicts like this is to risk someone bombing your office because your boss mouthed off at his cause? Even if he's right, do you want to risk losing your life, your arms, your friend, your sibs, to someone who thinks that the only option available to him to address systematic inequality is violence?

And you think about who really suffers when violence erupts, too. Look at the East St Louis massacre in 1917, when management tries undercutting the local white-run unions by hiring black folks who are systematically excluded by the unions. (If you think labor solidarity is free from the same intersectional forces that hit every other attempt to organize in solidarity for humans, you really need to go back and revisit your history books. We can do better and we should, but when we set up our systems and hope for the future, we have to be clear-eyed about the failures of the past.) Anyway, when labor tensions between white union workers and management's preferred use of cheaper, poorer, less "uppity" black people erupted, the white union workers attacked not management, but the black parts of town. They cut the hoses to the fucking fire department, burned huge swathes of East St Louis belonging to black homeowners, and shot black folks fleeing in the streets.

Money might not trickle down, but violence sure fucking does. The wealthy insulate themselves from violence by employing intermediaries to do all the dirty work for them, or even to venture into any areas that might be dangerous. When we resort to violence as the only way to solve our problems, inevitably the people and communities who pay the highest blood prices are the ones who have the least to provide. You think any of those robber barons are going to wind up on the ground bleeding out? They have their Pinkerton troops for that shit. The worst they lose is money; the rest of us have to stake our bodies and our homes.

No one should look forward to a worker uprising. If the Supreme Court is stupid and short-sighted enough to reduce avenues of worker redress to extra-legal means, the worker uprisings will come back around again, sure enough, and we'll all write our demands in blood once again. But the whole fucking POINT of the NLRB is that the federal government objects to having to sort these things out when they dissolve into open violence, so it sets rules about what the stupid short-sighted greediguts fat cats up top can do to reduce violence erupting again.

Anyway. Best thing I can think of right now is to get a Congressional supermajority in with the eye of imposing limits and curbs on the Court. Because look, I'll march if I need to, but I ain't going to pretend the thought puts a smile in my mouth and a spring in my step. Fuck.

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yanderes-galore · 3 months

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Hope it’s not to late to request platonic , obsessive yandere Toothless vs yandere light fury (or as I like to call her toothpastes XD) please , where both dragons fighting over a stranded Viking who somehow fell into the hidden world if possible. (Hcs /concept)

Also hi happy holidays !

Sure I can! Here you go :)

Yandere! Toothless vs Yandere! Light Fury

Pairing: Platonic/Animal/Pet-like - Rivalry (Brief Sharing Mention)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Clingy behavior, Kidnapping (technically), Jealousy, Forced companionship.

I imagine how you ended up in the Hidden World was purely by accident.

You might have fallen into it from a dragon or boat or was in danger and saved by a dragon that lives there.

Either way now you're a human trapped here, confused, and scared of the hesitant dragons around you.

By this time Toothless and his mate are already "King/Queen of the dragons".

Toothless is a dragon already quite used to humans.

Which means he quickly notices you in danger from the other dragons who have never seen a human.

Your companionship starts with Toothless defending you due to seeing you as harmless.

Your scent is familiar to Hiccup's, you may even be from the same group.

There's no weapons on you and you're just as scared as the dragons around you.

It takes time but other dragons settle when their king defends you.

The Light Fury, whom I'll just call LF to keep her different, also appears curious of you.

After all... her mate has always had a way with humans.

As usual I imagine they'd be overprotective yanderes as not all dragons trust you.

Toothless insists that their new human stays near their nest for protection.

I imagine their rivalry doesn't start for a bit.

The two are more concerned with protecting you.

LF is curious about you, often sniffing you and cooing.

Toothless already trusts you due to your familiar scent.

In fact he misses Hiccup....

A rivalry between them is hard for me to think of as I can't really see them fighting all that much?

But maybe it occurs through arguments?

Like any pairing the two tend to bicker.

Maybe after these arguments one of them takes you away for a bit to have time with you, making the other jealous.

Although putting it that way makes it seems like they're fighting for custody over their human... which is a bit funny.

Even more so if I say this takes place before they have eggs together.

The logical thing to do would be to bring you home.

But why do that when they can keep you here with them?

They end up treating you like their kid at times.

Poor Hiccup has no idea where the hell you went if you knew him.

Meanwhile whenever your two dragon protectors have an argument they drag you off.

The two keep you fed and smother you in affection.

It feels less like they're your pets and more like you're there's.

You're happy they keep you safe... but you'd like to go home.

The two can come together when it comes to you at times.

Like if you tried to leave?

They'd order dragons to trap you here then drag you back to their nest.

Toothless tries to be comforting.

LF acts very nurturing.

However, you only want to go home.

Plus, you easily get tired when the two drag you off for their own time with you when they fight.

There isn't many physical fights over you but they certainly clash when they want to have private time with you.

You hope either Toothless comes to his senses or someone finds you...

You're beginning to miss human contact and are tired of the dragons fighting over you.

#yandere how to train your dragon #yandere httyd #yandere toothless #yandere light fury #yandere dragon #platonic yandere

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pyrrhiccomedy · 3 months

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the one thing I have heard probably the most consistently, from the most people, since being diagnosed with breast cancer, is that I have a "good attitude;" meaning, that I make jokes about having cancer, which makes whoever is listening to me feel better about the fact that I have cancer.

Here's the thing - the worst part of having cancer (so far, in my experience - I'll update as this progresses) is having to live with the constant, oppressive dread that right now, somewhere in my body, a cancer cell is taking root in my bones, or in my lungs. That it will silently grow, and spread, and eventually become rampant and untreatable, killing me decades before my time, and I won't know that I'm on that course until it's too late to do anything about it. That I will have to leave my wife alone, that she will have to watch me die painfully and without dignity, and that I will leave this world without having had the time to see so much of what makes it beautiful and strange.

this is not a funny thought!

However, the second worst part of having cancer is - okay, so they removed the tumor, right, and at the same time, they also removed a clump of lymph nodes in my armpit. They do that to test whether or not the cancer has spread. So coming out of surgery, I have two incision sites: one above where the tumor was, and the other one on my trunk right about where your bra passes under your arm.

And that means I'm not allowed to wear deodorant for ten days.

Imagine me: stinky, in my bed. I am an adult woman with a beating heart. I will not claim I have any greater share of dignity or wisdom than a typical example of my cohort, but I have lived and learned and erred, and amassed a small collection of accomplishments which I would not be ashamed to present to God at my reckoning, should such a being exist, and should such a reckoning take place. Times when I have shown meaningful kindness to someone when it would have been more convenient or popular to do nothing. Times when I have told a necessary truth to my own painful detriment. Things I have made that possessed, to at least a meager measure, a glimmer of genuine beauty. Trust I have earned, and not betrayed. I'm not a saint, but my soul is not nothing, and as I am forced to reckon with my own mortality in a way that few people my age ever do, I, like - I smell pretty bad? And like - my armpit is, like, clammy. I mean, how long has it been since you didn't wear deodorant for multiple days. There's a change in texture that I was not expecting. Just in the right armpit! The left armpit is fine, she gets to have deodorant.

But like, stress makes the B.O. situation not so hot, and I'm medically prohibited from doing the one thing that would rectify the situation. I own deodorant. It's right over there. I can see it from where I'm sitting. I am sure you understand of course that I am immersed in greater miseries. Even aside from the existential dread of having cancer - the incisions are painful. I'm very tired. I have two blown-out veins from when the anesthesiologist struggled to find a workable injection site before the surgery, so I have some wild bruising, and I can't really bend my left arm. But these are afflictions with some dignity. To have pain or fatigue after surgery is rather ennobled in the common discourse. But - do I have to smell like ham, too?

Must I smell like rank ham?

Of course the solution to the ham smell is just to take more showers, but bathing after surgery presents its own category of woes, which are also not particularly dignified. And it's here, caught betwixt the Scylla and Charybdis of 'smelling like old meat' and 'unwinding my boob from its surgical sling to take another ride around the wet room rodeo' that I find the humor in my situation. The feeble ape rails against her trivial but intractable stink!

And that humor spreads - much like cancer! - to everything else that it touches. It is, actually, very funny to tell someone that the joke Christmas gift they got for me is probably what gave me cancer. It's funny, when people find out I got my diagnosis on January 2nd, to blandly follow that up with "--So, 2024, not off to a great start, but 2025 is going to be my year." It's funny, when someone invites me to something we both know I probably don't want to go to, to suck air between my teeth and go, "Ooh, I would, but, you know--the cancer. Yeah, I can feel it flaring up right now. Maybe next time."

Things are funny when they subvert your expectations. People expect you to treat your cancer diagnosis very gravely, and so it's funny - to them, and to me - when I don't. And then they tell me I have "a great attitude."

"You'll be fine," I've heard over and over again. "You have a great attitude. That's the most important thing, in this kind of a situation - keeping a great attitude."

I certainly hope that's true! There is definitely plenty of science to support the idea that a positive mental attitude has an impact on health outcomes. I think the effectiveness of modern chemotherapy drugs, and the extent to which my particular cancer responds to them, will have a significantly larger impact; and that moreover, it's probably prudent to remember that people with great attitudes die of cancer every day. But I will not turn my nose up at a percentage point or two perhaps coming from the willingness to crack jokes about all the cancer I've got, and how surprised I was to learn that I'd got it.

As I suggested up top, I know that when people say "you have a great attitude," they sometimes genuinely mean that they are pleased to find me in a mental state that might increase my chances of recovering from a deadly disease, but mostly they mean "thanks for not being a huge bummer about your cancer. I appreciate you for not ruining my day about it." And I'm completely okay with that. Like, yeah - I am deliberately sparing you from the burden of having to Take Seriously my life-threatening condition. You're welcome. I, too, would rather avoid this conversation on one of the finite number of Thursdays God has seen fit to grant unto the measure of our lives. What the fuck are you supposed to do about any of this?

(Shout out to my one good work buddy who, on hearing the news, instantly responded with "Oh my god, Geri Hallwell aka Ginger Spice also got breast cancer young! You're like twins!" Thus far he is the only person who has said something in response to the news that actually made an immediate, positive impact.)

So anyway, obviously all I ever say in response to "you have a great attitude" is "Thanks! I'm just focusing on the positives and taking it a day at a time." Because that's true, and moreover, it's all anyone needs to hear.

What I'd like to say - not to them, because there's no point in burdening them any further than the embarrassing reminder of death burdens anyone - but maybe to someone, maybe just to You, maybe that's why I'm writing this -

What I'd like to say is: dogg, you have no idea how subverted my expectations have been lately. How could I not find this funny?

How profoundly alienated from the absurdity of death would I have to be to not laugh about this?

Like - I know this is so stupid, but listen: I could die. No, no - listen - no I know everyone dies - but like - are you listening? Are you actually listening? I could die. I could die. I could die. I could die.

Isn't that so funny? Isn't that actually so funny?

And this - this attitude that I'm in, right now, this one right here, where shaking my head ruefully and marveling at the - maybe belated, but I think probably actually quite premature - realization that oh no, 'everyone dies' means for me too, huh - and laughing at myself for never, apparently, really grasping that until now, and laughing at the incredible statistical unlikelihood my cancer - I've never won anything before! - and laughing at how woefully ill-prepared most people are to respond to news like this, and laughing about how, of everything terrible about cancer, the actual number-two-on-the-list worst thing about it so far is that I can't put on deodorant -

Is this the great attitude you're talking about?

I'm not angry, I'm not resentful, I'm curious, I'm really curious. Do you understand why I'm laughing?

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kishibe-kisser · 4 months

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hi how you doing ??? Mmmmm can i request a fic for sukuna x Ballerina reader???🥺🥺🥺🥺 i'm a Ballerina and i want really to know how would he react about that i just can't imagine it right😭😭😭

This could be very fun

Personal Jewellery Box (Sukuna)

Tags: Sukuna x ballerina reader, mentions of injury, pet names, implications of murder

There was no beauty in humanity, not to him. Sukuna had lived a long time and there was very little in the world that made him feel sympathy towards humans, they didn't care for each other. He felt no need in caring for them either.

Classical music wasn't his cup of tea either, high pitched screeching of violins doing nothing more than give him a headache. It was one of the reasons he stumbled across you in the first place, he wanted to make the music stop and if that meant putting an end to you too, it didn't matter to him. Sukuna wasn't above it in any way.

Spinning, you didn't see the man staring at you through the window of the studio. You could only feel the pain in your feet as you danced through your routine once again. The toe pads in your pointe shoes were worn through and as much as you needed new ones, the effort of breaking them in not being something you were looking forward to.

So you pushed past the pain, pirouetting through the studio before coming to a grinding halt. Your face being mere centimeters from a smirking man. Sukuna no longer wanted to put an end to the music, he wanted to see you dance just a little longer. He was mesmerized, your movements filled with grace and strength. It was new to him, someone with so much physical discipline... it was interesting. If something amused him, he was prone to keep it and it took him no 2 seconds to decide he was keeping you.

"Turn like that again." He grumbled, his hands on your waist as he spun you gently. He liked doing this, feeling your muscles contract under his hands. Watching you dance and feeling you dance were his favorite things. Your cheeks were warm, heating up with every touch of his rough hands. It was something you could never quite get used to. No one admired your dancing as much as him and that from the king of curses, it made you a better dancer.

"Beautiful." He remarked, stopping you to face mirror of the practice room. His face was next to yours as he held you in your position. His hands were large on your body, making it hard to maintain your position. A smile stretched over his face, feeling you start to shake a little. "My pretty little performer." He said softly, releasing his grip on you. It was his nonverbal way of saying you could relax.

"You, sweetheart are like my own personal jewellery box. Doing a little twirl any time I ask." He added on, urging you to sit next to him. Sukuna raised your leg over his lap and started to undo the ribbons of your pointe shoes. "I'm nervous for the show." You admitted to him, hissing as his hand massaged your bruised feet. It was amusing to you, other people in your life wouldn't take the time to do this however he didn't bat an eyelash.

"You can't be nervous. When you're on stage just imagine my hands are the one holding you in place up there." He told you, applying more pressure on your strained muscles. Using your leg, he harshly pulled you into his lap and his chest pressed into your back. He held your chin and forced you to look into the mirror again.

"Besides, anyone who makes my little dancer feel bad about her dancing will have hell to pay with me."

A/N: This is very short because I did not know what to write but I still really liked this? It's very different.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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obae-me · 5 months

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The Brothers and their Nightmares

I was going to post this for Halloween, but things came up as they always do and I couldn't get to finishing it until now. Enjoy the late angst and spoops!

These are just dream scenarios I imagined the Brothers would suffer with, connected to both their Sin and the personal things they struggle with. Most of it is symbolic but could still be triggering for some.

TW: Hurt/No Comfort, Violent Images, Death, Blood, Angst, Nightmare Scenarios, Burning, Broken Bones, Disturbing Scenes that may upset readers. As Always, Read Safely.

Lucifer:

Displayed in a box. Preserved. Hung on a shelf for all to see. Trapped in a clear case with giant pins puncturing his wings and limbs in place. A perfect specimen.

The pain is immense. The torture almost unbearable, but this is where he belongs, right? To be shown off with Pride? To weather any struggles and pain to shine ever brighter in the light? A diamond only need be pressurized, cut, and polished before it's valuable.

Blurry faces of demons and angels and humans alike all pass him by, pointing at him and observing him with awe, sometimes fear, but nothing more. A living piece of art. He's searching for any familiarity amongst the crowd. The people he loves the most, the people he wants to shine for above all, the people he's suffering for!

Please! Give him a reason to endure this crucifixion! Prove to him that this is worth it! Let him know that he's enough! This prison must mean something! Don't say it was all for nothing! Everything he's worked for! Everything he's lamented over, toiled for! Look at him! Appreciate him!

But no one ever comes.

In the end he's left alone. The pins push deeper. The blood dripping from his eyes.

Just a caged butterfly.

Mammon:

Glistening palms. Shimmering faces. Gold as far as the eye can see. A perfect shining kingdom. Frozen lifeless subjects. This isn't what he wanted.

Come on, Belphie. Beel? What about you Asmo?... Satan?... No... Levi, please... Hells no... Lucifer!

Unmoving metal lips match each stiff jeweled eye. His hands... He- he had only touched them. That was all he did. Right? All he had done was love them. The Greed had become too much. In his ambition for glory, his corrupted embrace had tainted his family past the flesh. Motionless mannequins, that's all they were now. Cursed to shine till the end of time. His treasures that he had always craved.

Was this what he had wanted all along? No! He had created this all for his family! His friends! His loved ones! They were to all to gimmer with him! Not leave him alone! He did this. He always took things too far. Steal and cheat and lie until nothing remained! Rotten scum! Why couldn't he just listen? Why couldn't he just be better?! Give him a second chance... please. He can be better... Someone say something...

A destiny written in stone. Take. Even the lives of his brothers.

No matter how hard he tries, he only makes things worse.

Surrounded by the Fool's gold.

Levi:

Clanging, burning chains. There's a constant deafening buzzing in the air, the chatter of thousands of people. The voices rise and fall in rhythm, like the beating of war drums, or the increasing pace of his heart. He can't think, he can hardly see, and he can't breathe.

Millions of shining eyes stare down at his restrained body in the middle of a stadium. The blinding gazes singe his body, his skin melting off his bones. He's not the only one at the center of attention. Other people, other contestants are here to play the same game. Win, and get everything you ever dreamed. Lose, and be forced to burn with Envy and shame.

Every failed attempt of his makes the arena hotter. The infernal heat spills from the breaths of the crowd sharing his weaknesses to the world. They give his competitors the advantage, kicking him while he's down. The thrumming gets faster. It's not fair! He's trying so hard! Was he just doomed from the start? Was he born a failure? Hated by the universe since the moment of conception?! Is that why he's never good enough? Is that why all his brothers get to move on without him?!

His dreams always just out of reach. He's not good enough to be loved.

The bitterness eats him up from the inside.

Till he's melted into a pile of nothing.

Satan:

A mess of strings. The curtain is drawn. The show begins! It's the same routine day after day after day after day-- He can't take this any more!

He doesn't even understand this masquerade! The story he's forced to play out is gibberish, some fickle plot he can't even begin to fathom. Everything is foreign to him. The audience, the dance, his body, his Wrath. None of it is recognizable. And they chuckle like they know, like they enjoy his ignorance. Limbs are pulled in any direction the strings choose. Bones broken, lips sealed shut, he's pushed to the brink of oblivion once again.

But he worked so hard! Everything he's read, everything he learned, so he could stop feeling like this! He's not just a hollow doll, controlled by someone else's ambitions! He has thoughts, he has feelings! He might... not fully understand them yet, but he's trying! Tell him he's smart, that he's strong, that he's his own person! Let him stand on his own!

But only his mind is allowed to scream as the congregation watches.

A wicked dance until the strings are snipped. His opportunity to be independent. But instead, he falls into a lifeless heap on the floor.

Nothing without someone else.

The poor wooden plaything will never be real.

Asmo:

An endless winding labyrinth of mirrors. He runs, panting and crying as he tries to find his way through the illusions. Make it stop! Let him have peace!

The creatures are invisible to his normal eyes, only showing up in the reflections of the mirrors surrounding him. There's hundreds of them at least, crawling over each other to get to him. They don't even make a sound, silently scrambling towards him. An amalgamation of Lust. Each time they grab him, they take something precious from him. His fingernails, strands of his hair, his beautiful lips, the blush from his cheeks. They rip off of him as easily as tearing away a puzzle piece.

They're stripping him of his beauty bit by bit! How is he supposed to be loved like this?! If he's not gorgeous, than what is he? He has nothing left! This is all he has! He's not strong, or smart, or powerful! His physical charm is all he has! Please, leave him alone! He's supposed to be a jewel! That's all anyone ever sees him as!

He can't bear to look at himself. Every time he glances he's slightly different. Until he no longer recognizes the humanoid shell in the mirror. But he has no choice to keep looking if he wants to keep an eye on the monsters pursuing him.

A single fumble.

It's rather quick and painless as the souls each take what they want from him.

And leave him broken in shards on the floor.

Beel:

Screams echo from every direction. Buildings crumble as the earth shakes and the air hums. A moving living black cloud sweeps through the town. Where's his family? He has to help.

The sky a vast pool of crimson as the Celestial Sun and Demonic Moon cross paths and cast a torrent of blood down onto the merging realms. The ground beneath them all trembles, growling. It's Gluttonous. Every person he tries to save is always just too far away. They either get consumed from the plague of insects or fall into the gaping maws of the starving earth. And he still can't find his family.

Why? Why is this happening? Why isn't he strong enough to save anyone?! All the workouts, all the training, pushing his muscles stronger than any demon ever has, all so he can quit feeling so useless! He told himself he would be ready to take on anything! Even an entire army if he had to, just so he could save somebody for once! Lilith... Belphie… everyone... he's sorry... Sorry he's so weak. This is his fault.

The foundation beneath his feet begins to crumble.

His wings feel far too fragile to fly.

It makes sense that in the End of Days, no one would be there to save him.

He didn't deserve it.

Belphie:

There's something rotten in his chest. It feels like a pit in his soul, growing larger with every passing second. The sensation is agonizing.

It's something no one can see, but something he feels with every breath. It's very slowly stripping him of everything he is. His love, his memories, his desires... He needs to go find help. The House is laid out all wrong. Doors lead to where they shouldn't, hallways bend in the wrong directions. His house doesn't even feel like home anymore. Every step feels harder than it should. The supposedly easy task of getting help seeming more like an impossible feat. This rot is more than just Sloth. It takes what seems like hours to finally find his family. That's when he reaches out to them, trying to tell them what's wrong. But he can't speak for some reason.

Gestures and panicked grasping means nothing to his brothers. The desperation in his eyes goes ignored as most simply rub his head or push him off to the side, not taking him seriously in the least. But this hurts! He can't take the pain anymore! Someone help him! Don't push him away, don't treat it like a joke! Listen to him! Take what he has to say into consideration! He can't possibly speak over six other voices!

His efforts wasted, his energy depleted.

The rot ate away at his heart and left him numb.

And everyone walked away, leaving the boy who cried to cry alone.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me nightbringer #hurt/no comfort #tw: violence #tw: death #tw: blood #tw disturbing imagery #tw burning #tw broken bones

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strniohoeee · 6 months

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Besotted

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader(chubby reader)

Synopsis: Y/N has a crush on Matt, but feels like he won’t like her back because of her physical appearance. What happens when Y/N talks about her experience with guys in LA on their podcast, and Matt gets upset🤭

Warnings⚠️: None….Idk how I feel about it. I felt like I couldn’t wrote it better, but also idk it’s my own brain picking myself apart🥹

Song for the imagine: Why Can’t I?-Liz Phair

Why can’t I breathe whenever I think about you?

Why can’t I speak whenever I talk about you?

I think the hardest thing about being a bigger girl was liking a guy. Always on this see saw of they could like me or they could find me disgusting. It hurt a lot, and what didn’t help was being in the social media light. Your appearance constantly being judged and critiqued

I tried to not let the hate get to me, but occasionally it did. However, having loving and supporting friends surrounding me made it better.

I had gotten close to the triplets within the last year and a half, and it’s been interesting. I had their fans either loving me or hating me, and at times it got hard, but the triplets helped me not think too much about it.

Matt helped me the most especially since I also had anxiety like him, him and I actually grew pretty close. I started to like him a lot, and because of societal standards I forced these feelings deep down.

I couldn’t fandom to face the rejection from him if I ever came to tell him how I felt. I knew Matt would never like someone like me. It’s nothing against him, that's just what he’s used to. Skinnier, prettier and all around better. I tried not to think this way, but it was hard when that’s all you see in the LA influencer world

My feelings for Matt grew more and more daily, and I was hurting myself by thinking he could like someone like me. I mean he could? Couldn’t he?

Today the triplets wanted to film a Q and A podcast for their channel, and they had asked me to join, so I agreed. They made a post last night asking for questions, and boy did they get a lot

I had gotten to the triplets house, and felt so nervous to answer questions to the public

“Hey Y/N” Nick said as I came up the stairs

“Hey guys” I said smiling at them

“I love your outfit” Matt said coming over to hug me

“Oh thanks” I said hugging him back

“Yeah you look cute” Nick said

“Came extra pretty today” Chris said snapping his fingers

“Enoughhh” I said laughing at them

I was wearing wide leg denim jeans with a fitted black shirt that said fuck off and black chunky sandals….nothing special,so their compliments were nice but made me question did they always look at my outfits and my appearance? My anxiety spiking

We had gone up to the podcast room, sitting in our seats and getting ready to film

“Okay welcome back campers I’m your host Nick Sturniolo”

“I’m Matt Sturniolo”

“And I’m Chris” Chris said giggling

“Today we have a special guest with us, our friend Y/N” Nick said

“Hiiii” I said into the mic and smiling at my camera

“You guys were begging for more videos with Y/N, so why not an hour long video with her” Nick said

“And to make it better we’re doing a Q and A, so we can get personal” Chris said

“Perfect! Getting personal online, my favorite” I said giggling

“Laura picked out these questions for us by the way, so we have no idea what we’re getting ourselves into” Matt said

“Without further ado let’s start” Nick said

“Okay so the first question is where do you see yourself in five years?” Chris asked

“Ouuu nice” Nick said

“In five years I hope to see myself still doing what I love which is filming videos, and just growing with my brothers as a whole” Nick said

“I hope in five years I’m settled down in a nice relationship, living my cabin life and making videos with these two” Matt said

“I like that, and not to be the same but I’d like to be doing exactly what I’m doing now in five years. Just growing with everyone I love surrounded by me” Chris said

“Nice answer” I said nodding my head him

“And for you?” Matt asked me

“I uh I think for me, in five years I’d like to be further in my career, you know. I’d also like to be in a better mental state whatever that looks like. I’d assume I’d like to be in a relationship at that point as well” I said nodding at Matt

“Those were great answers” Chris said

“Okay next one” Matt said

“So the fans want to know what is the most embarrassing interaction you’ve ever had with anybody” Nick said laughing

“We as a whole will not be answering that, but maybe Y/N might have something”Matt said looking at the camera

“The most embarrassing interaction I have I can not and will not say as it’s embarrassing on my part” I said laughing and shaking my head

“Awwww” Chris said

“Sorry guys, but that’s going to the grave with me” I said laughing

We had asked a few more questions, and suddenly Nick eyes brightened at the question he was reading

“I like this one! This is for Y/N. The viewers want to know what’s the dating scene for you right now. Are you seeing someone, are you interested in someone…what’s the tea” Nick said looking at me

“Oh god I’m in the hot seat” I said widening my eyes

“You sure are” Chris said

“Alright I’m about to be real vulnerable with yall. I am not seeing anyone right now, I’m not talking to anyone right now, but I do have someone in my mind that I like” I said giggling and covering my mouth

“Ouuuu tell us” Chris said

“Absolutely not” I said laughing

“But no, what I was saying is the dating scene in LA is trash all across the board. However it’s even worse for me because I am a bigger girl, and that’s already not accepted by society. So when you’re in the influencer scene and you live in LA you don’t meet the nicest guys. The amount of popular influencers who have messaged me telling me that they would never collab with me or ever be seen with me because of my physical appearance is absurd. It’s hard especially when you like a guy that you know wouldn’t like you back, you beat yourself up over it. Because at the end of the day we’re all humans and we all crave love and attention, and we’re told that if we don’t look a certain way we’re not deserving of that love. So the dating pool for me right now is trash” I said shrugging my shoulders

“You know that sucks, and it’s bullshit. I think the way that the media is is so fucked up. Forcing these young girls to think that they should be a specific way to find love or be “pretty” is insane” Nick said

“Yeah I agree! It’s like who fucking cares what someone looks like it’s about what’s on the inside” Chris said

“100%” Nick and Matt both said

“Okay this next question is similar to the last, this person said Y/N please tell us how you secure a man as a bigger girl, no offense at all I’m just genuinely scared of going after guys I like because I’m bigger myself” Chris read

“Oh no offense taken, to be honest I don’t know like I said I’m not in the dating scene right now, so I have no advice. I myself am scared to reach out to any guy I find attractive because of how mean these guys are. My biggest fear is rejection, and when I’ve been rejected by every guy you start to build up a wall in your heart, and it’s hard to stop that” I said

“So I have a personal question” Nick said

“Yeah” I said nodding my head

“Is there any specific type of guy that you do find has reached back out to you, or has messaged you and hasn’t cared about your appearance” he said

“To be honest no. Big guys, skinny guys, medium guys, buff guys, all guys in LA have made it known they don’t like me. Or they want to keep me on the low and it’s just not worth it to put myself through that pain” I said

“That shit pisses me off so much, like why does it matter what a girl looks like. If she’s a great person who’s got her head on right it shouldn’t matter what her body looks like” Matt said

“I agree” Chris said

“I would date any girl doesn’t matter if she’s bigger, smaller, shorter or taller as long as her morals are in line and she’s a great person I could care less” Matt said

“Tell us how you really feel” Nick said laughing

“It’s the truth. That’s what pissed me off about LA they all have this image, and if you don’t fit this image then you’re not worthy of anything, it’s just stupid as fuck” Matt said

“Bouncing off of what Matt said, I completely agree I’d date any girl. Like I’ve said in the past videos I love all women, doesn’t matter what you look like” Chris said

“That’s the other thing women would date these gross ass gremlins, and then one of these ugly ass guys would look at a beautiful woman and pick her apart, like I promise you she wouldn’t even look your way” Nick said laughing

“No I agree….men are just shallow you know. Not all men, but most are shallow and only care about looks” I said

“So Matt for the viewers, who would you date?” Chris asked

Matt looked at the camera

“I would date anybody, I would date Y/N” Matt said

“WOAHHHH” Nick said

“No I would. She’s got her head on right, her morals in line. She’s funny, nice and beautiful, and not once did I bring up her body because it doesn’t fucking matter” Matt said

“Matt’s getting bold” Chris said

“If I didn’t know Y/N and I walked past her on the street, or she slid in my dms. I would without a doubt ask her out” Matt said

“Honestly same, she’s someone I’d ask out too had I not known her” Chris said

“You guys are so sweet stop it” I said blushing

“What’s crazy is Y/N is literally both of theirs type, and I’m just now realizing this” Nick said laughing

“I appreciate you guys truly and understanding where I’m coming from. I love talking with you guys” I said

“We love keeping it real, and we love you” Chris said

“Alright campers that is it for todays podcast we love you all so very much, and if you want Y/N and Matt to go on a date like this video” Nick said laughing

“Shut up” I said playfully smacking him

“Edit this video of us, and I’ll take Y/N on a date first” Chris said laughing

“Oh don’t you both fight over me at once” I said laughing

We had ended the podcast, and headed back down to the living room sitting on the couch

“Would you actually go on a date with me” I asked Matt

“100% would” he said smiling at me

“Hmm” I said looking at him

“I mean, would you go on the date with me?” Matt asked shyly

“I would” I said looking over at him

“As a friend or?” He asked

“Well it’s a date, so it would be more with the intentions of eventually dating” I said smiling

“Oh” he said looking shocked, oh god did I fuck it up

“OH? THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY” Nick screamed at his brother

“No im just trying to make sense of this” Matt said lookin at me

“The gears are moving” Chris said looking at Nick

“Do you like me back?” Matt finally asked me

“Like you? Matt I’m like head over heels for you. That’s why what you said up there….I need to know if it’s true because I don’t want to get my feelings hurt” I said to him

“No no I would never do that. Y/N I have liked you for so fucking long” Matt said smiling at me

“You like me?” I said pointing at myself

“How have you not seen it? This kid is practically drooling when he sees you” Chris said

“Shut up” Nick said to him

“I wasn’t sure that the feelings were mutual. I was honestly so scared to say anything” Matt said

“You scared? Matt I was petrified to even look at you. I was so scared that you were going to be just like the rest” I said shaking my head

“I would never be that way, that's not how I was raised. You’re a gorgeous girl and you’re funny and smart and nice, and I can keep going in the list of things I like about you” Matt said

“Matt I like you so fucking much you’re all I’ve ever wanted in a guy, so to know the feelings are mutual is really nice” I said smiling at him

“So you and me tomorrow night, 6pm for dinner?” Matt asked

“Yes I’d love that” I said smiling

Matt walked over to me, placing his hand out for me to grab, I grabbed it and I got up. He immediately pulled me in for a hug wrapping his arms around my waist

“This is so fucking cute I’m taking a picture” Chris said

He got up and stood basically in our faces to take the photo

“You weirdo back up” Matt said laughing

“Kiss kiss kiss kiss” Nick and Chris started chanting

Matt looked at me before I nodded, and he leaned in connecting our lips

“YESSSSS” Chris and Nick were screaming while Chris was recording us

The kiss with Matt was everything I hoped for and more. It was like a million butterfly’s and fireworks going off.

We had pulled away and I smiled shyly

“You’re so cute” Matt said pulling me in and putting his hand over my shoulder before kissing my forehead

“Okay guys we should take some photos for this weeks photo dump” Nick said

“Ouu yeah I agree and it’s golden hour right now we could do them outside” I said

“Love the way you think” Matt said winking at me

We had gone outside to take some pictures and posted them. Chris and Nick making Matt and I taking couple like photos for this weeks photo dump for the podcast

All I have to say is you never know until you try🥀

The End

Alright I hope you liked this one, and I’m not too sure how I feel about it LMAOO😭😭😭 but I struggle writing fluff and cute stuff I think? Idk man but I got a Chris smut coming out so hold onto your socks for that🖤🤭

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #Spotify

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sugarbbgrl · 2 months

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Got Yourself a Bad Habit

I'm tipsy, h word and hoping this doesn't come out too shitty :3

WARNING: MDNI, 18+

cw: enemies to lovers, pnv, insults

wc: 1355

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

It’s a constant battle between the two of you, every damn day. No amount of peace in the world could get you to stop irritating each other from your respected apartments.

The first week he moved in was the last time you knew tranquility. You’d think you would make peace with each other and then move of with you lives. But then, BAM, two years later and there still seems to be a problem everyday.

You can't play your music without John hammering his fist into the wall adjacent to you. It interrupts your spring cleaning and is more obnoxious than the music itself. But the volume doesn't falter no matter how much he complains

Until a knock at your door disrupts you. Well, more of a bang on your door.

"What?" You say, opening the door to see a red faced John Price at your door with his hands on his hips.

"Did you not hear my complaints to turn that shit down?" His chest heaves in anger as his voice booms through the air, his British accent more gruff than usual.

“Oh.. That was you?." You smirk and lean against your door frame, taking a sip from your coffee. “Thought is was someone’s dog yapping.”

“It’s nine o’clock in the fucking morning, Y/N.” John point s finger at you. “Turn that shit down.”

“Mmm..” You trail off as you fake a thought, tapping on your chin with your free hand. “No.” You slam the door in his face.

“You’re a right cunt!” His muffled curses could be barely heard through the closed door as you turned the music up a little bit more. Banging continued against as Bad Habit by The Kooks began playing, until your front door was slammed open by a, now, fuming John Price.

“Hey! You’re going to pay for the damages, asshole!” You screamed at him as he stormed into the threshold. Price made his way to your speaker and hit the power button, you music coming to an abrupt halt.

"I told you to turn this horseshit off, Y/N!" He yelled, solid chest heaving from the short and angry breaths.

"What's your problem, John?!" You scream at him, walking closer to him. "It's just music! I'm allowed to play whatever I want and whatever time I want and there's nothing you can fucking do about it!" You poke at his solid chest, digging you finger in harder more each time. You stare into each other's eyes for a few seconds longer before you mauver your way around him and turn your speaker on once more

"You're so fucking infuriating!" He barks at your back as you scroll through your songs. You smirk as you settle on Something in Your Mouth by Nickelback, really trying to elicit a reaction out of the fuming man behind you.

Suddenly, large hands twist your around by your waist. You're now chest to chest with John, both breathing heavy and tension to light around the both of you as he crashes his lips against your mouth.

A muffled yelp escapes you cover lips, eyes widening sightly before squeezing shut as you kiss him back with the same amount of force. Your hands move along his broad shoulders to the back of his head, gripping the soft strands in your fist.

You can't lie, you've been dreaming of the day you get to have some physical interaction with your neighbor, John is a sight for sore eyes; wide, muscled back, pretty eyes, and a slight sense of humor when he wants it to break through. Even with his annoying "rules" of no music past a certain time, you've always been attracted to the Brit now roaming your body with his rough hands.

The kiss was more than you could've ever imagined. Intense was the best word to best describe it. Teeth clashing lightly, tongues intertwined and short breaths between.

"You piss me off far more than you could imagine." He speaks into your mouth, ending the sentence with a tight squeeze of your ass in his hands. You can feel your pussy begin to soak your underwear at the rough action, causing a quiet moan to push it self against his lips.

"Fuck you.." Your mumble, his kisses trialing form your mouth and to your neck.

"Yeah? You think so?" John stops his attack and spin your around, pressing your body against the nearest wall. "Why don't you try me, slut."

John spreads your legs with his knee and yanks your shorts down with lustful force, taking no time to cup your cunt with his large hand. You sharply inhale at the sudden contact, your pussy clenches against him as he brings his hand to your clit, taking two fingers to rub circles onto it. You force your ass against him at the feeling, your arousal drenching his fingers.

"So fucking wet.. All for me?" You hear his voice from behind you trail and an unzipping of his jeans.

"You fucking wish." You exhale as his tip lines up with your entrance, running it along slowly with his fingers still focusing on your slit. John pushes himself into your opening slowly, hissing at the tightness of you.

"Jesus fucking Christ." John bottoms out into you, nuzzling his nose into your neck and kisses the back of your neck once more, "If I would've known you were this ready I would've done something sooner."

He slowly pulls himself out of you before pushing back in with just as much force, as if savoring the warm feeling of you around him. You sigh as he bottoms out once more, pushing his chest to your back, more heat roaming around the both of you, His fingers still touch your small bud, retracting and thrusting once more.

"You wouldn't know what to do even if it was in front of you." You breathlessly chuckle, savoring the feeling of his thick in your. A locw growl emanates from deep within in, his other hand snaking its way through your hair and grips the crown. You look at him as he forces your head back, mouth open and doe eyes capturing his attention. John keeps a steady pace now, sliding in and out of your with ease and rests his mouth on top of your head.

HIs cock grows harder as he impales your harder, hushes moans pushing past his lips with every movement. You can feel yoursekf growing wetter as he tightens his grip on your scalp, closing your eyes to fully immerse yourself in the pleasure.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to fuck the living shit out of you." He breathes, picking his pace up more and more as time rolls by. "Watching you take your trash out in skimpy little shorts and a tank top without a bra. You could make any man forget everything.

You can feel your climax approaching faster and faster, opening your eyes once more to meet his.. Eyes linger longer this time, breaths quickening pace, He places a quick yet gentle kiss to your forehead, lips lingering a bit longer than expected. His cock hardens further at the moans you shamelessly let go, finally letting yourself feeling everything in this moment.

Your orgasm rip through you, a yelp and a shiver running through your entire body. Your legs shake as he keeps the same pace causing your eyes to roll back. He pushes your head against the wall as your body gives into the intense feeling coming over you.

"Fucking shit,," John hisses, releasing our head and running his hand along your back before landing on your waist, gripping both side with force. He comes not to long after you, puling out to spray his ejaculate along your backside. Deep moans ringing in your ears as you attempt to recover form your own climax.

Banging on the wall from your neighbor on the opposite side sounds through your place, breathless chuckles coming from the both of you as you both sit and process the interaction between you two,

"Well, maybe you should turn your music up louder next time."

#call of duty #captain john price #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #john price x you #john price smut #captain price x you #captain price smut

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animusxy · 2 years

Text

Aemond Targaryen with a Blind! reader, Pt 1.

Summary: Aemond meeting and befriending the reader after she finds him crying over the cruel comments of his missing eye by the servants of the Red Keep. Reader is from a noble family and completely blind, a bit of a renowned sweetheart as well.

Warnings: Allusions to Parental Neglect towards Reader.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 3.5 / Part 4 / Part 4.5 / Part 5

Aemond had met you when you'd first come to court with your mother and father. You were both around the same age, so it was encouraged but not forced that the two of you spoke together.

You were both around 13 at the time but Aemond was older than you by nearly 10 moons.

Although this was mainly for alliance purposes, your parents never expected you to get married with your condition. So close friends were the next best thing.

Besides everyone who had met you could say that you were a kind and caring person, so most people you met were willing to lend a hand if your family needed it.

The two of you didn't meet face to face until around a week after your arrival.

You were sitting in the Godswood of the red keep, feeling around the flowers beneath the Heart Tree. The flowers were most likely 'Dragon Breath' but you couldn't see its shape nor colour so you wouldn't know for sure unless someone told you. You could only feel around the leaves and stem.

Now, the funny thing about being born without functioning eyes is that your other senses are somewhat more advanced. You can hear more than what others do and are far better at perceiving what sounds could be (purely because it's the only thing you can do when you can't see)

So, you could hear the sounds of quiet crying before said crying person realised you were there. Instead of staying where you were of leaving them to their own devices, you decided to approach them.

It took a bit longer than what you would've liked considering that you kept stumbling over roots and rocks, but it seemed that the person, male presumably, was too preoccupied to realise that someone had arrived from behind.

"Hello?" You spoke gently, not wanting to startle them too much. You heard their breath hitch and they sniffled. You could imagine that they may have been embarrassed about being caught crying here. So, you spoke up again before they got too upset.

Aemond hadn't recognised you at first, after all he'd never met you before, but he knew off you. His mother had warned him and his siblings to be careful as you had 'seeing difficulties' as his mother had put it, not wanting to be rude in the face of your parents. However, your mother had, surprisingly, referred to you as being 'as blind as a bat'.

He introduced himself reluctantly, not wanting to be seen as a Prince who was a cry-baby but many servants had spoken about your kind nature so it seemed as though you wouldn't hold it against him. He was right.

You asked why he was crying, promising that you wouldn't dare speak of it (which was also true). Naturally, he was hesitant to release this information, so you asked him if it was about his looks. Since your arrival you had heard next to nothing about the younger prince besides from his 'hideous' appearance.

Apparently, he'd lost an eye in a fight with his nephews at Lady Laena's funeral after claiming the largest dragon living in the world.

He responded to your question with a small yes. If you had regular senses, you probably wouldn't have heard it, even though you were sitting next to him now.

To most young ladies, it seemed as though the eye was too much, and they disregarded all else there was to the prince. It was understandable that he was so upset. He'd now taken to wearing an eye patch to lessen their harsh words but even that wasn't enough.

Honestly, you weren't sure what you could say to make him feel better. You couldn't just say that it was alright, because it simply was not. You couldn't say that looks didn't matter because while they might not to you (because, well, you can't see) they most certainly did to him.

Instead, you turned the conversation towards something different. Anything you could think of that Aemond would enjoy. How was his training going? Did he have any lessons today? It didn't seem much to you, just a way to get his mind off of things without talking about his eye.

Little did you know that it was exactly what he needed. He didn't want to talk about his eye anymore. He just wanted to forget about it for now.

And what better way to do that then with someone who couldn't even see the damage?

His mother was pleasantly surprised to hear that he'd talked with you. Aemond wasn't much of a social child, so it came as somewhat of a shock.

What came as more of a shock was how these conversations continued.

There wasn't really much you could do, or rather was allowed to do, due to your disability.

You couldn't sew pretty shapes and pictures onto a piece of fabric, you couldn't write letters or read them. You certainly weren't allowed to help with any meals or chores considering how you'd just bump into things or cut yourself.

Oh, how Aegon loved to tease you over that. You never got annoyed at him for it surprisingly, mostly because you also believed that it was rather stupid how little you were able to do.

Aemond found that due to this you spent much time in the gardens feeling the flowers and the grass. Trying to see if you could perhaps differentiate different flowers.

He knew Helaena would love to be your friend when he found that out.

He sat with you between his lessons and confirmed different species of flowers using a book he'd gotten from Helaena.

You'd ask him how different colours looked and chuckle lightly as he tried to explain them using emotions.

In his defence, he actually described them very well.

Your conversations of flowers grew to other areas, like interests that the two of you shared. You were a fan of history but could never really indulge in it because you couldn't read the books.

Whenever you asked about certain historical events that you were interested in your parents had always turned you away. Not at all trying to hide the fact that they preferred to spend time with their other sons and daughters as opposed to you simply because it took more time and effort for you as you had to be spoken to in order to learn things.

Aemond loves his history, he knew all about the Targaryen Dynasty and its dragons, it was one of the things he was truly proud of. You on the other hand knew the bare basics. The kings and the order that they came in, the biggest of the dragons, and Kings Landing. He was more than happy to indulge you in all the things in between.

From this chance meeting a beautiful friendship flourished.

Okay, I'm definitely making this 'Aemond x Blind! Reader' a little series. In the same format as this one just with different scenarios happening. I'm much better at writing fanfics in this format and I could honestly continue this for days.

If you have any requests for HOTD please send them, I'm happy to see them through. I will read and write anything about some of these characters for hours, especially if they're either Daemon or Aemond. Also feel free to send some ideas about head cannons for this 'Aemond x Blind! Reader' rabbit whole that I'm now getting myself into.

My best ideas always come late at night.

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond imagine #prince aemond #aemond stannies #HOTD #house targaryen #aemond targaryen #hbo house of the dragon #hotd 1x05

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