#adult bucking bronco

[sadb0yhourz]

hc + 💔 (about a sad experience) for saddest boy Dino 👀

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Dreamie Mun: Welcome and thank you for indulging me!! I hope you're having a lovely day, my beloved Junie!

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Dino Cavallone

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hc + 💔 for a headcanon about a sad experience

He will never say it, but when Dino became the Cavallone don at the tender age of 14, having the men who had watched him grow up change how they referred to him did cause a twinge of something inside...The worst was Romario...Romario, who invited him to his humble home to eat meals with his family. Romario, who always called him "birichino"...or, well, did call him that...Ever since he became a boss Dino was only ever "don."

Don...Dino will never say it but it did something to him for a long time. Longer than he liked.

Birichino = cheeky youngster, little scamp.

Ask meme here

[sadb0yhourz]

Dino felt himself jump at the loud yet familiar voice. His shoulders hunched, a sense of embarrassment falling over him. Thankfully Reborn wasn't here to see that embarrassing display. He's known Delfino long enough to not react so overtly to her shouts...and yet.

From behind he could hear Romario snicker but when Dino whipped his head to look at him the older man suddenly began coughing, a fist over his mouth.

With the shadow of a smile still on his lips, Romario said. "Ah, sorry, boss! I got a bit of a cold, haha."

Dino shook his head, a smile on his own lips. "Right..." Passing by the older man, he pressed a hand on his shoulder. "Take care of yourself then!"

Dino then made his way back inside, he had been in the garden soaking up the sun with his turtle, Enzo. Romario had shown up just to provide a report when Delfino's shout rang through the mansion.

"Delfino!! I was in the garden!!" Dino shouted back, blond locks swaying as he turned his head left and right. Where was she? With how loud she is, she could even be at the other side of the mansion...Dino thought with bemusement.

@sadb0yhourz

Delfino walks around the Cavallone manor, searching high and low for Dino. She's sure the blond is off somewhere nearby and she doesn't have to worry, but the longer he's gone, the more anxious she grows. Finally she sighs, inhaling deeply and yelling out. "LEEEEEEEEEI! DINO CAVALLONE, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

[roosterforme]

You're on the Naughty List, Rooster | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knows no limits when spoiling his family, especially for his daughter's first Christmas. When he's down to the wire getting everything ready, he lands himself on the naughty list. He'll do whatever it takes to fix things, including calling on one of Santa's helpers for backup.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, smut, oral sex

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This is a The Younger Kind one-shot, but it can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more!

"What is this?" you asked, holding up a receipt that trailed from your outstretched hand all the way to the floor. "Because I know you didn't spend eight hundred dollars on toys on your way home from work today."

"Uh," Bradley replied, brow puckered. He looked up from his spot on the living room floor next to the Christmas tree where he was putting batteries into a remote control dinosaur. "It's, uh.... well, yeah, I did stop for a few more toys on the way home, but I only spent like seven hundred and sixty bucks..."

"Daddy!" you gasped. "Noah and Noelle already have way too much stuff! And we agreed to put money aside to go to Disney World next summer!"

Bradley rolled his eyes and waved his hand casually in the air. "Don't worry about that. This is Noelle's first Christmas, and I really wanted to spoil her."

You shook your head, balled up the receipt, and threw it at his head. But you were smiling. "Where are these toys?"

"In the Bronco," he muttered. "I was going to sneak them under the tree after you went to bed and hope you didn't notice that I got a few more things."

You deadpanned. "You don't know how to wrap gifts. They would have stuck out like a sore thumb," you muttered, sliding your feet into your slippers and pulling on Bradley's discarded sweatshirt. 

Without another word, you slipped out into the crisp, cool night to retrieve everything. To your dismay, it took you several trips back to the living room before you got all of it.

"You are in so much trouble," you warned, pulling his sweatshirt off and crawling across the floor toward your husband. "You're on the naughty list."

"I'm not," he whispered. "I've been really good all year."

You pointed to the Elf on the Shelf which was perched on the windowsill next to the front door. "That's not what Skittles Junior told Santa. I saw the note he sent to the North Pole. Everyone was on the nice list except for you."

"Including Skittles Senior?" he asked, pulling you close until you were sitting halfway on his lap. The Yorkshire Terrier looked up from her napping spot under the Christmas tree, annoyed that they kept saying her name without offering a treat.

"Especially Skittles Senior," you confirmed.

Bradley wrapped his hands around your waist and whispered, "What if I bought my way onto the nice list?"

"How?" you asked, chin jutting into the air, playfully haughty.

Bradley leaned in, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. You had the softest skin, and he let himself indulge in some kisses before saying, "Maybe I already booked the trip to Disney World."

You gasped softly. "Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Did you pick a nice hotel?"

"For my family? The nicest."

"And we get to go for a week?"

"A full seven days, Princess," he rasped, brown eyes reflecting the lights on the tree as you tipped his head back to examine his face.

"Let me check with the Elf," you whispered with a wink. You turned toward the window and asked, "Hey, Skittles Junior? You think we can let the old man slide this year? He wasn't too bad."

But Bradley was already easing you onto your back, right next to the snag in the area rug, while you laughed. "I know for a fact you're on the nice list. You're so nice, in fact, I'll let you have one of your presents early," he murmured. You bit your lip as he started to tug your pajama pants over your hips. "This is something I definitely wouldn't be able to figure out how to wrap." He kissed below your belly button, tossing your pants on top of his hoodie. "But I know it's something you like."

The tip of his nose tickled the waistband of your underwear before he started to pull them down as well. Then he kissed his way along your thigh, mustache prickling you as you shivered, pussy completely bare for him. "Daddy," you moaned softly, fingers grabbing at the rug while he held tight to your thigh and dragged his index finger along your slit.

His face was handsome in the glow from the multi-colored lights, gaze fixed on where he was stroking you. "You're so fucking pretty like this," he grunted, collecting your slick and circling your clit until you whimpered. His lips found the inside of your knee before he set your legs gently on his shoulders. You watched as he licked his finger clean, eyes closed in pleasure. "You taste like a Princess."

"I am a Princess," you replied, eyes flicking to the collection of paper crowns which your son added to the Christmas tree. Then your eyes slid closed as Bradley's tongue traced you from hole to hole before his lips sealed around your clit with just the perfect pressure. 

"Oh, god," you whined as your fingers sunk into his thick hair. His broad shoulders kept you planted against the floor, pussy already fluttering with need as you tried to roll your hips for more.

"Just wait," he whispered, mustache dragging through your wetness. "Don't rush it."

"But it feels good," you whined loudly, tugging him by his hair. "More." 

That's when he lifted you slightly off the rug, his big hand landing on your butt, spanking you one time. You sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the sting as he kissed the inside of your thigh. "I said don't rush it. Want you to make a mess."

"Oh." He was going to make you squirt. That was the gift he was giving you. Even now, you weren't sure how he managed to make it happen every time he put his mind to it, but you weren't mad about it. You tried your best to keep your hips still as he worked you up while his hands made their way to your waist. 

He drew little circles against your skin where you were most self conscious after being pregnant with Noelle, but he never seemed to mind your stretch marks. He just kept at it, licking you up and down your slit with a steady pattern until you were starting to get loud. Then Bradley shoved two fingers inside and circled your clit with his thumb.

"Don't wake up the kids," he scolded playfully, guiding his body over yours while his hand worked at your pussy. The sounds were wet and indecent as he finger fucked you while you licked yourself from his lips and mustache. "God, you're so fucking sweet," he crooned, making you whine for him as he pulled away again.

As soon as his face was back between your legs, his lips took over for his thumb, and you knew you were close. His fingers felt thick and unrelenting, giving you the most delicious friction as he sucked on your clit. When his tongue swiped you, your back arched up from the rug, and your legs started to shake. When his fingers slowed, your vision blurred, creating a colorful mosaic from the Christmas lights as you clenched around him, your body trying to keep his fingers inside.

"Jesus," you gasped, riding his fingers, looking down at his face, lips still all over your pussy. "Daddy!"

You gushed on his face, and he moaned in pleasure, lapping up everything from your ass to your clit as you gasped and giggled, fingers pressed to your lips as you shakily rode out your orgasm.

"Merry Christmas, Princess," he crooned, teasing you with his fingers before removing them. He kissed your chin and your parted lips before letting you suck on his fingers while he sprawled out next to you. Your tongue cleaned him up, enjoying the taste of yourself on his rough hands before you rolled onto your side.

"You want me to wrap all of the extra toys you bought, don't you, Bradley?" you asked, voice shaky as he nodded.

"Yeah. I mean, I thought that was a given."

You laughed, but a few minutes later, you were once again dressed, wrapping presents until well after midnight. Bradley handed you the tape and scissors when you asked for them, and he made both of you mugs of hot cocoa when you needed a break. He told you his plans for the summer vacation to Florida, and you lined up the mound of toys for Noah and Noelle under the tree until you couldn't stop yawning.

"I don't know if I'm more tired from my orgasm or wrapping. Or both?" you asked, kissing him before standing. "But I'm going to bed."

"I'll be in after I put the mugs in the sink, Princess. I love you."

You stood and arched your back in the most alluring way before running your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead. "Don't forget to move Skittles Junior to the tree for Christmas morning."

"Right. I'll take care of it," he grunted as you walked away, Skittles Senior trailing behind on her way to her puppy bed. 

After straightening up the kitchen, Bradley took the time to clean up a few wrapping paper scraps and adjust some of the ornaments. The tree looked beautiful covered in homemade art projects you and Noah crafted together. The whole house had taken on a new life since he met you, and if you wanted to go to Disney World in the summer, he was going to make it the best trip ever.

"Get over here," he told the Elf on the Shelf, picking him up and searching for a good spot on the tree to hide him. "And I better be on the nice list tomorrow, Skittles Junior. There are a lot of things I want from my wife next year, if you catch my drift, buddy."

But Bradley took a wrong step trying to avoid the huge pile of presents that he bought. His eyes went wide as he reached for the tree, somehow managing to keep it and himself upright while the presents scattered noisily across the floor. He stood there silently, trying to regroup, but then he heard footsteps in the hallway.

"Daddy, did Santa come?"

Bradley turned in time to see Noah peek into the room, his brown eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. Then he burst into tears.

"What's wrong, Bub?" Bradley asked, scrambling around the presents to get to his son.

"You touched the Elf!" he wailed, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Now Skittles Junior won't be magic anymore!"

Bradley tamped down the string of obscenities on the tip of his tongue and winced, throwing the Elf at the tree. "He's okay. See? He's in the tree now. He's just fine."

"No!" his son cried, dropping to the floor where Bradley joined him, trying to keep him quiet so he didn't wake you or Noelle. "He's not magic anymore!"

Fuck. Bradley had been setting up elaborate scenes involving the elf leaving flour footprints in the kitchen and dangling from dental floss in the bathroom for the entire month of December. He knew he wasn't allowed to get caught touching the damn thing.

"I'm pretty sure there's a way to fix his magic," he said, collecting the sobbing child against his chest.

Noah gasped for air as he said, "Someone at school told me the only way to get an elf to be magic again is if Santa sends a helper to sprinkle new magic on him. That's the only way."

Bradley tried to think of a solution to appease Noah, but he was beyond exhausted. "How about I take you back to bed, okay? Santa was clearly already here, but Mommy and Noelle are still asleep. We can open presents in a few hours-"

"No!" Noah protested, looking up at him. "I want to stay here with Skittles Junior until Santa sends a helper to give him back his magic!"

Bradley gritted his teeth. It was four in the morning. He wanted to be curled up next to your warm body in bed. He didn't know how the fuck to fix the elf as it dangled helplessly from the tree. But it was Christmas, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his son.

"Right," Bradley agreed, scooping Noah up and settling onto the couch with him as a plan started to take shape. "How about you and I wait right here? I'm sure it won't take long."

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When you woke up, the bed was cold. You could hear Noelle starting to fuss in her crib, so you went to her room before investigating where your husband could possibly be.

"Hey, Noelle," you whispered as she giggled and reached for you when you walked to her crib. Thankfully she was finally sleeping through the night now after getting a rough start. You kissed her forehead and changed her into a fresh diaper. "Merry Christmas," you told her, tickling her tummy, making her coo. "Let's find Noah and Daddy and make breakfast."

When you walked into the living room, you froze. The wrapped presents were all over the floor, Skittles Junior was dangling from the Christmas tree, and Bradley looked miserably tired with Noah pouting on his lap.

"What's going on?" you asked, and they both turned to look at you and Noelle.

"Daddy touched Skittles Junior, and now he's not magic anymore."

Noah's lips quivered as Bradley rolled his eyes behind him. "It was an accident," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "And Santa's helper should be here shortly to remedy things."

You looked at him like he had two heads. "What are you talking about? Santa's helper?"

"It's the only way!" Noah insisted, his little fists clenched on his lap. "It's the only way to get his magic back!"

You looked from one pair of brown eyes to the other. "I'm still confused," you whispered, but then there was a knock on the front door. "Who could that possibly be at this hour?"

Noah launched off Bradley's lap. "It has to be Santa's helper!" he exclaimed, racing for the door and opening it. You nearly choked when you saw Natasha standing there, dressed as a life-sized Elf on the Shelf with heavily rouged cheeks and her hair hidden under the pointy hat. She was also wearing oversized glasses which she pushed up her nose as Bradley stood.

"Hi! My name is Pip! I'm an elf!" she squeaked.

"Did Santa send you?" Noah asked hopefully, opening the door wider for her.

"He sure did!" she told him with a smile while you took in the events before you with Noelle in your arms. This had to be the most insane thing you'd ever witnessed as your husband's best friend walked into the living room with a canister of gold glitter in her hand.

"Did he tell you my elf lost his magic?" Noah asked, pointing at the tree.

"Oh, yes," Natasha squeaked. "He said your dad was very, very naughty." She glared at Bradley who just shook his head. "He's going directly onto the naughty list for the next decade or so. Everyone knows you aren't allowed to touch the Elf on the Shelf. Only a complete moron would-"

"Okay, Pip," Bradley barked. "Can you fix the elf or not?"

She adjusted the glasses and opened the glitter. "Of course I can. Just a little sprinkle," she said, dousing the elf and half the tree in gold dust, "and he'll be good as new."

"Yay!" Noah shouted, jumping around the room. "He's magic again! He's magic again!"

You gaped at Bradley and whispered, "Do I even want to know?"

"Absolutely not," he replied, taking Noelle and giving her a kiss while Noah plopped down to open aone of his presents like all was right in the world.

When Natasha turned to quietly sneak back out the front door, you followed her to the porch, closing the door behind you.

"What in the world is happening here? I thought you and Javy were coming over later for dinner?"

She waved her hand in the air in clear annoyance. "I don't know exactly what your husband did to fuck up enough that I got texts in the middle of the night and had to drive an hour each way to the only Walmart that opened at seven in the morning on Christmas to buy this outfit, but he owes me dearly. I'll be back at a normal hour, and you can tell him he better be ready to start kissing my ass."

The elf stormed across the yard to her SUV, tossed her hat in, and drove off. You scratched your head, still confused as you went back inside. Skittles Junior was practically dripping with gold glitter as you passed the tree to find your husband and both of your children were wearing their paper crowns.

"Mommy, put it on," Noah said, handing you the purple one as you took a seat on the area rug with them.

Bradley leaned in and kissed your cheek while Noelle reached for one of the wrapped gifts. "I'll explain everything later," he whispered. "The important thing is the elf is magical again, and everyone is happy."

You shook your head and pursed your lips. "Everyone except you. Ten years on the naughty list? You better hope Pip changes her mind before she gets back to the North Pole."

Bradley groaned and sprawled out on the floor while the kids opened their presents, but there was a smile on his face the whole time.

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It feels good to check in with them! I'm so obsessed with elf Natasha, if you couldn't tell. Thanks for reading! Happy holidays! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Place in the Sun 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Summary: Trouble in the big city follows you back to your sleepy village home.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You’ve been to the city once in your life. Your parents were never really well off. Your dad works at the lumberyard, still, and your mom sells some crochet gloves and hats here and there, or tailor a few pieces for the neighbours for a buck or two. It isn’t much but they work hard and you can’t want for much. Life is simple but not unhappy. 

Your second trip to the city isn’t much different than your first. You were a kid then and only came with your dad so he could get new work boots. You don’t remember much except for the very tall people and the honking cars. Now, it’s just as chaotic and you feel just as small, but you’re all by yourself. 

There’s a gathering at the mall. You’ve never been to a mall. They don’t have any of those in Hammer Ford. As you steer the beaten-up Bronco into the lot, you shift the stick and check your mirrors. The cars here are all tiny compared to the mammoth truck you borrowed from your dad. He only let you take it after you filled the tank, and with a little coaxing from your mom. 

You don’t see why it’s a big deal. You’re an adult. You make your own money. Enough to help out. You do what you can with your seasonal pay but they don’t need a custodian at the school when there’s no classes. 

Still, you scrounged enough for the collector’s edition. You pre-ordered and everything. It’s so limited they only let people pick it up in-store. 

You park and shut off the engine. You watch a group of teenage girls giggling as they enter the mall. You should’ve brought some friends but you don’t have many of those. Everyone you knew in high school is married or busy growing up. There is that girl you see now and again, she lives with her grandma, but she’s always got her head down. She’ll see you waving one day. 

You open the door and hop down. As you do, the keys jangle out of your grasp and hit the pavement. You huff dramatically and swing the door shut. You go to grab the keyring but it’s swiped up by someone else. You stand and face the man as he holds them out. 

He’s taller than you and older. You think. He has the boldest blue eyes you’ve ever seen and a shadow of stubble across his square jaw. His hair is neatly trimmed and he wears a dark blue suit with a white button-up. He outshines your brown khaki skirt and gingham blouse. 

“Oh, hi, thank you, sir,” you chime, “clumsy me!” 

He nods and narrows his eyes, “keep those close. Someone else might just run off with the truck.” 

“Ha, this beat up old elephant,” you take the keys and slap the side of the Bronco, “I doubt it, but thank you, sir. I appreciate it.” 

You smile brightly but he hardly seems impressed. More confounded. His mouth slants and his eyes roll to the side. 

“Another piece of advice,” he intones as he leans towards you, “don’t smile at strangers.” 

“Oh, uh,” your mouth straightens, “right. Sorry, sir.” 

His brows rise and fall but he doesn’t reply. He brushes by you and you turn to watch him go. Your ma warned you that city folk weren’t very friendly. You spin back and lock the truck up, taking his warning to heart. You never know and your dad would never forgive you if someone did decide to highjack the rusting beast. 

You head towards the mall and follow a rabble of children with their moms into the air-conditioned space. It’s nice compared to the thick humidity outside. You think back to that man and wonder how he could be wearing a jacket in all this. He must be on the way to somewhere important. 

You look around, your heart pumping as the bright marquees and shining shop windows refract through your lenses. Oof, you didn’t expect it to be so big! You search around, walking along with your knitted purse clutched tight. Oh, a map! 

You go over to the touch screen directory and search for the bookstore. Right, a left and then straight, and another left. You recite the directions to yourself over and over as you continue on. You barely dodge out of the way of your fellow mall patrons as the criss cross the wide hallways and mill outside the booths and windows. 

Finally, you spot the familiar logo of the bookstore. You only really see it on a screen but you know it well. You stroll in through the broad open archway at the front and once more, you’re struck by the flurry of activity and expanse of the space. You trail after a pair of girls toward the service desk, delineated by the floating sign above. 

You bounce on your feet as you join the queue. You overhear the girls talking about the same book you’re there for. You curiously lean forward to eavesdrop and the redhead cranes to glare at you. You retract and give an apologetic look. You weren’t snooping, you’re just excited. 

When it’s your turn at the counter, you give your name and wait. A figure approaches the next till and sighs. You glance up at the sign; Returns/Exchanges. It’s the man in the blue suit. He taps a plastic card on the wooden countertop. 

As the associate searches for your order, you stare over at his agitated expression. He doesn’t seem very happy. His blue eyes drift and he meets your gaze. His cheek dimples in recognition. 

You give a small wave and smile and he shakes his head. He turns back to the till as a woman nears the other side. 

“Back,” he flicks the card up between his fingers, “should be the one I paid with.” 

You return your attention to the order counter. You shouldn’t be so nosy. You’re there to get your book and go. Oh, and maybe a soft pretzel at that place you saw on the way in. It’s a good day and you’re going to enjoy it. You peek over once more as the man snarls at the credit card machine. You hope his gets better too. 

[sadb0yhourz]

The laugh that left Dino reverberated in the church, his body shaking. ❝Hearing that from you is rich, sister!❞ He shook his head, grin still in place. ❝But you're right...I should leave these types of words for outside the Church! Away from God's prying eyes...!❞ He joked. His smile softened, ❝how are you today, sister Judith?❞

HAPPY HOLIDAYS YOU HOE HOE HOE ☃🎁🍾🍑👄 WE ALL KNOW UVE BEEN NAUGHTY 👀👅💦😩 SO U BETTER GET READY 👏🏻👅 FOR SANTA TO WIGGLE BOOGIE DOWN UR CHIMNEY 💦🏡🍾 WITCH SOME BIG BLACK COAL FOR UR TREE ❄️🍆🎁💦💃🏽 AND I HOPE U MADE SOME COOKIES 🍪🍪🍪 CUZ HES GOING ALL NIGHT 💦💦🚼🙈😩😜 SO GET YOUR TREE READY 🎄🎄🍆👅 AND LETS GET FESTIVE 🍾 SEND THIS TO 1️⃣5️⃣ OF THE BADDEST ELVES YOU KNOW 💅🏻💃🏽💦 IF U GET 5️⃣ BACK U A HOLIDAY HOTTIE TO THE MAXXX

█ 𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅 ,     get nasty this holiday season. ⤿ @sadb0yhourz

⸻ Funny, but . . . ❛❛ Don Cavallone. ❜❜ and she's patting the broad plain of his chest, there's hardly any sliver of scold in her tone, but still she goes on if only to resemble some maturity, not that she has any. ❛❛ You mustn't use such language inside the Home of God, even if you are our most beloved contributor. ❜❜

[justatasteofyourpoison]

When Kings and Demons Collide

A RadioApple (Alastor x Lucifer) fan fiction.

🦌🎙️🔥🍎🐍

A short, suggestive and not so sweet fan fic my fellow RadioApple fans. Feel free to finish the story however your mind desires… Enjoy you wayward sinners! :D

Setting: This takes place shortly after Charlie makes a deal with Alastor in Hazbin Hotel episode 7.

Warnings: 18+, adult themes, sexual themes, swearing, fighting, degradation/domination, not the best grammar.

Word count: 500ish

———————————————————————

“YOU MADE A DEAL WITH MY DAUGHTER?!” Lucifer roared suddenly appearing in Alastor’s room in in a bright flash of sparkling gold.

“Ah I was wondering when Big Bad Daddy would sense this and turn up. I have to say you’ve made record time. Not got a lot going on at the moment Lucifer?” Alastor said flippantly while inspecting his claws.

“You lousy egotistical gasbag!” Lucifer raged raising his cane to strike the Radio Demon. Alastor was too swift though, he raised his cane to meet it and they collided with hellish force. The Demon reached his free arm round the clattering weapons and grabbed Lucifer by the back of the neck, dragging him to the nearby desk before slamming him face first into it. Pens and loose paper scattered in all directions at the impact.

“Now now!” Alastor spat leaning his lips down mere millimetres from Lucifer’s ear. “It’s not very becoming of a ruler to get so fired up over something so trivial is it? Your daughter has free will which you gave her and if she wishes to make deals with me she can!” His clawed hands tightened around Lucifer’s neck and he pushed his crotch firmly into his prisoner’s behind.

“I don’t want you messing with Charlie you nefarious cunt!” Lucifer screeched, his claws digging into the wooden desk. Alastor laughed loudly at his little outburst.

“Who’s messing? You know I care for Charlie like my own flesh and blood. I mean someone has to look out for her, what with her having such an absentee father!” Lucifer growled furiously at the Demon’s mockery.

“You know Your Majesty… You can transform into anything within the blink of an eye can’t you? You could easily transform into a snake and wriggle out of my grasp, or into a bucking bronco to kick me away. But I’ve been disrespectfully whittling away in your ear and you’ve done nothing but lay there and take it! You can give up your little facade, you desire this don’t you? To be pinned down and rendered helpless like one of Niffty’s little roaches?! Haven’t been treated rough in a while eh Luci? Hmm?” The Demon scoffed. Lucifers eyes widened and his breath quickened.

“Alastor…” Lucifer panted breathlessly under the Demon’s forceful hand.

“Let’s make a deal shall we?” Alastor chimed.

“Fuck your deals!” Lucifer spat against the desk.

“A deal like I just made with your daughter - harmless. No souls involved.” The Demon’s tone shifted to sound more persuasive.

“What do you want?” Lucifer murmured in defeat.

“I won’t tell anyone about this if you won’t.”Alastor cooed coaxing the King’s legs apart slightly.

Lucifer let out an involuntary groan of pleasure at the movement. “Ok…” He whispered longingly.

“Then it’s a deal Your Majesty!” Alastor confirmed as he slowly began to undo his belt buckle…

[spin-linn]

A Small Snippet from a story I'm writing

Heroes United [Working Title]: a Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons novel

Hiccup’s POV:

The trail we followed to Old Corona was littered with a few too many tree roots and chuck holes for my taste. It was like a war zone, and the battle was being waged against my lack of agility. I tripped and teetered over so many times I lost count. I would have smashed my face against a sunken boulder had it not been for Jack, who quickly yanked me upright by the shirt collar just as I began to topple over a huge crack in the obliterated cobblestone road.

“Jings, you're as wobbly as a newborn foal,” Merida chortled after watching my clumsiness take over for the umpteenth time.

I gave her an irritated glare. “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, shrugging her delightful personality off. “I get it, I'm a klutz. Tell me a new one.”

“As you wish,” she took my sarcasm as a challenge. “You're also as stubborn as a buckin’ cuddy.”

“Whoa! Watch your mouth, Mer!” Jack cackled, taking her words to be off-color.

“She wasn't cursing,” I chuckled, realizing Jack wasn't as well-versed in Scottish lingo as I was. As much as the Vikings hated them, my dad and a lot of the other adults sure enjoyed borrowing a lot of their slang and vernacular. I grew up hearing it a lot, so one could say I was fluent. I knew what a cuddy was. “She just called me a horse,” I explained. “Like, a wild one that someone's trying to ride for the first time. That's why she said I was like a bucking cuddy.”

“Oh, okay,” he seemed to understand, “like a bucking bronco, then? I know rodeos.”

“What the heck's a bronco?” I gave him a confused glance. “Or a rodeo?”

“Seriously? It's another word for a horse.”

“Innae no horse I've ever heard of,” Merida scoffed.

“Jeez Louise! It's an unbroken horse!” Jack enunciated, holding back laughter. He seemed to be reaping as much fun out of the strange conversation as he could. “And a rodeo is like a big show where people do horseback tricks and try to ride broncos or bulls.”

“Show riding, huh?” That got my attention. “We do that with our dragons from time to time back on Berk! Toothless and I have gotten pretty good at air tricks.”

“I can hit a bullseye from 50 paces on horseback,” Merida interjected, bragging to herself. “Been practicing for months.”

“That's impressive, Mer, but I would say barrel racing and lassoing cattle isn't exactly like that,” Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “You've clearly never seen a cowboy movie.”

“Now we're talking about cows?” My confusion only grew. “What even is this conversation?” I threw my hands up in defeat, beginning to laugh in spite of myself. “Now I'm lost.”

“I guess you could also call him a ‘brumby’, Mer,” mused Jack, still preoccupied with the whole “cuddy” confusion. “Picked that one up from a friend 'down undah',” he said with a funny accent.

“I have absolutely no idea what's going on back there,” Rapunzel called back to us as she led the path, studying Cassandra's notebook. “But I am enjoying the chaos.”

“Join the club, Punz!” I started to laugh.

_______________

If you've stuck around this long, thanks for reading! The story this is from has been a passion project for almost 10 years. I'm writing it as a form of therapy, and I'm not planning to post the finished product anywhere as of now.

I've been working on this story for several months now, and I'm just really proud of this dialogue exchange. I wanted to share it, even though I don't intend to share the whole story. Thanks for bearing with me, and I hope you enjoyed it!

[kijiboop]

So, today I learned that I am too old for energy drinks. I'm 41. I got a free sugar-free energy drink from GoPuff yesterday and figured, what the hell, I'll give it a try. This morning, I missed my usual coffee, so I grabbed the Ghost from the fridge and started driving.

I drank about four ounces. It tastes oddly like Sour Patch Kids, which was the advertised flavor. Considering it's supposedly sugar-free, this concerns me.

I hit work after my 35-minute commute and I feel like someone fired me out of a cannon. This is terrifying. I can't hold still and I feel like I've been strapped to the back of a bucking bronco only I'm the bronco and my brain is the rider unable to cling on for dear life. I can't make eye contact with anyone. I'm spontaneously shouting "wheee!" when given new information. This is bad. I'm an adult and I'm acting like a sugared-up toddler.

Thankfully, my coworkers are all about the same age as me and recognize the signs of Bad Decision Making. They're giving me as much benefit of the doubt as they can while I shake-dump the remainder of the can down the staff room sink.

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 6.26

Beer Birthdays

John Courage Jr. (1788)

James Anderton (1830)

Isaac Leisy (1838)

Alan Moen (195?)

Jamil Zainasheff (1961)

Five Favorite Birthdays

Paul Thomas Anderson; film director (1970)

"Big" Bill Broonzy; blues singer (1903)

Abner Doubleday; mythical baseball inventor (1839)

Mick Jones; rock guitarist (1955)

Babe Zaharias; golfer, athlete (1914)

Famous Birthdays

Claudio Abbado; orchestra conductor (1933)

George Brandt; Swedish chemist, mineralogist (1694)

Pearl S. Buck; writer (1892)

Milt Glaser; artist (1929)

Dave Grusin; jazz pianist, composer (1934)

Sean Hayes; actor (1970)

Chris Isaak; pop singer, actor (1956)

Derek Jeter; New York Yankees (1974)

Lord Kelvin; Irish scientist (1824)

William Lear; inventor (1902)

Remy LaCroix; adult actress (1988)

Greg LeMond; cyclist (1961)

Peter Lorre; actor (1904)

Willy Messerschmitt; German airplane designer (1898)

Terri Nunn; pop singer (1961)

Chris O'Donnell; actor (1970)

Eleanor Parker; actor (1922)

"Colonel" Tom Parker; carnival barker, Elvis Presley's manager (1909)

Roy Plunkett; scientist, discovered Teflon (1910)

Jason Schwartzman; actor (1980)

Shannon Sharpe; Denver Broncos TE, television sportscaster (1968)

Patty Smyth; pop singer (1957)

Michael Vick; Philadelphia Eagles QB (1980)

Gedde Watanabe; actor (1955)

Colin Wilson; English writer (1931)

[rcsodak]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Bronc Rider Western Buckle front, Mesh Back Trucker Hat Snapback ,Cap New w/tags.

[sadb0yhourz]

EEE CONGRATS TO MUN!!! >< 💖💕❤️‍🔥 YOU'RE GONNA ROCK❣️

*A ribbon headed girl from ‘another time’, with shoulder-length black hair that has two cat-shaped buns, walks in giggling. The blue circles around her eyes glow eerily*

“One question for each four now. 

For Byakuran: Did you ever feel sad for being the Millifiore Boss? I mean, you did, well... K-i-l- oops! Ehe!

For Dino: Were there times your famiglia ignored you?

For Hibari: Do you even love family?

For Reborn: Who’s heart did you break the most? No cheating you sly fox!💛

Also thank you all in advance! Ehehehe~"

The eery girl skips away and disappears with sparkles.✨🌈*

Dreamie Mun: Welcome and thank you!! I'm happy to have your support!!

Disclaimer: The character will be written IC <- by my standards.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

They had all wondered who on Earth this young lady was and why she felt she could speak to them like that?

However, despite these questions, Dino cleared his throat and composed himself.

"Hello!" He smiled rather warmly at the strange girl, a chuckle leaving him. "Ah...no." He responded, beginning to answer her question. He found it utterly baffling. "My men would never ignore me. They know better." His smile remained, but Dino's golden eyes were trained on her. She must not be mafia to ask something like that... but a civilian wouldn't dare to speak to him like that either. Just who was she?

Byakuran laughed softly. "Fufu, I never once felt sad. It was simply a game I was playing." His smile widened. "Now I'm on new game+, fufu..." he trailed off. Personally, the new game was not fun, but at least this girl brought some amusement. Who was she? Where did she come from? His eyes opened, pale violet hues inspecting her. Was she in any of the futures he destroyed? He chuckled once more. " But, you know, I still K-i-l-l...fufu.☆"

Kyoya didn't understand who this girl was or why she asked such a preposterous question. "What nonsense." He replied simply. He didn't elaborate and instead turned on his heel and walked off, jacket fluttering as he did.

Reborn's lips were pursed, irritated. Who was she, and why was she speaking to him like that? So familiarly. The fact that someone so audacious could avoid Reborn's notice irked him...he should have known of someone like this, who could approach him and a don without a hint of shame or wherewithal. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you." It was not a question but a demand. This stranger's own utterly ignored.

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[Also, you don't have to continue this if you don't want to! I just want to answer questions directed at them IC.]

[roosterforme]

Hello, I Love You | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Phoenix signs Bradley up for speed dating on Valentine's Day, he is skeptical. But after he meets the woman of his dreams, he's not afraid to admit his best friend was right.

Warnings: Pure fluff, adult banter, some cursing

Length: 2300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for my Love Is In The Air playlist challenge! Thanks for reading! And please check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.

Bradley strolled into the Hard Deck, got a beer from Jimmy, and then made his way to the pool table to join his friends. 

"What's up?" he asked Phoenix when she eyed him a little nervously.

"Now, don't get mad, okay?" She set her pool cue down and patted his shoulder.

"What did you do?" Bradley asked, frozen with his beer halfway to his lips. 

Phoenix smoothed out his Hawaiian shirt across his chest and shoulders, and then she took his chin in her hand and turned his face from side to side. "Yeah, okay, should be fine," she muttered, examining his appearance. 

"Nat, seriously, what did you do?"

"Well.... I signed you up for speed dating," she informed him, wincing before he even responded.

"No," he said, adamantly shaking his head. "Nope." Bradley sipped his beer and turned to grab some darts.

"And it starts in thirty minutes," Phoenix added, her eyes going wide as Bradley glared at her.

"Natasha, I'm not going."

"But you're lonely! And it's Valentine's Day! You need a girl!"

Bradley scoffed. "I'm not lonely. I'm... picky."

"Too picky, Rooster. Just go to the speed dating thing, please? I already spent twenty bucks to sign you up," she pleaded. "It comes with a free drink!"

Bradley chuckled. "You think I'll find a girl there? You're insane, Nat. It's going to be the weirdest assortment of people under the San Diego sun. Crazy people who collect cats and probably a bunch of basement dwellers."

But as he watched his friend's face fall, he felt a little guilty. "I just thought you might have fun, you know, putting yourself out there. It's been a year since you dated anyone," she said softly. 

Bradley took a sip of his beer and ran his hand over his face. "Fine. I'll go, but only to prove to you that I'm right and you're wrong."

He watched her jump up and down a few times and clap her hands. "Yes! It's at the Surfside Tavern, and if you leave now, you'll arrive just in time," she said, taking his beer from his hand and pushing him toward the door. "Text me later and let me know how it goes... unless you know, you're busy getting hot with a basement dweller."

Bradley just rolled his eyes and headed toward the Bronco. 

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

"Let me get you signed in! What's your name?" asked a young man with Connor on his name tag. He was seated at a small table at the front of the bar, and now Bradley was getting a little nervous. There were a lot of people here tonight.

"Bradley Bradshaw," he replied, taking a name tag sticker from Connor. 

"Just grab your drink at the bar and head on back to the area where the tables are set up. I'll get everyone started soon," said Connor with a smile. 

Bradley took a deep breath, half tempted to bail, but then he thought it would be worthwhile to get his free drink since Nat stole his other one. He got a beer from the bartender and then turned toward the back of the room, where there were a bunch of guys were wearing suits. 

"Shit," he muttered, glancing down at his own jeans and bright shirt. 

When he looked up, he quickly braced himself as you accidentally bumped into him, the drink in your martini glass sloshing precariously close to the rim. "Sorry!" you gasped, looking up at him. 

He steadied you, wrapping on big hand around your waist as you regained your balance. And Bradley instantly knew there was no chance he would be bailing early tonight. 

"Thanks," you whispered, tapping your martini glass to his beer bottle with a grin.

You took a slow step away from him as Bradley whispered, "Damn." You looked like a real treat, with bright eyes and kind of a shy smile. And as you walked toward all of the guys in suits, you turned to smile back at him over your shoulder.

"Okay, let's get started!" Connor announced, pulling your attention away from Bradley and toward him. "Let's have the ladies each take a seat at one of the tables, and the guys will rotate around the room. You'll have five minutes to get to know each person, and then I'll tell you to switch. You can grab a notepad and a pencil if you want to keep track of names. Let's go!"

Bradley watched you take a seat and cross your legs, subtly glancing at him again. He was pulled toward your table like a magnet, barely able to control himself. But it looked like he wasn't the only one. 

"Fucking suits," he groaned when another guy sat down across from you. Bradley doubled back and chose a table with someone else, practically tripping since he could barely look away. 

"Hi! I'm Bridget!" said the bubbly woman now seated across from him. 

"I'm Bradley," he replied with a smile, trying to discreetly count how many tables away you were sitting. 

"Oh my God! We both have B names! That's insane!" Bridget gushed.

Bradley laughed nervously. "Both are BR names, actually," he muttered. Then he watched her scribble down his name with KEEPER next to it. 

Oh shit. He had to endure five minutes of Bridget listing off potential names for their theoretical future children. Bruce, Brandy, Bryce, Brinley, Brooke and Brynn were apparently all viable options, and when Connor announced that five minutes was up, Bradley launched out of his seat. 

He tried to hustle over to your table, but Connor was on him right away. "We're rotating in order. Remember?" 

Bradley looked over to where you were sitting, shaking hands with your second "date". But you were looking at Bradley and smiling. It looked like you were trying not to laugh. 

Bradley glared down at Connor, towering over him. "Come on, man. See that one over there? I wanna talk to her." 

But Connor was not deterred, and rather showed Bradley to his next table with Angie. "What do you do for a living?" she asked, smiling at him across the table.

"I'm a Naval aviator," he replied, trying to get a peek of you talking with Mr. Suit. 

"Oh," Angie replied, and her smile turned into a frown. "I'm in the Army." Bradley watched her jot down his name and write NO next to it. Then she took out her phone and started to play Candy Crush. 

Once again, when it was time to switch tables, Bradley jumped up and rushed toward yours. 

"Sir, we've been over this before," Connor called after him, but Bradley made his way to where you were sitting with a different guy who was wearing a full-blown tuxedo. 

"Hi," Bradley said, reaching out to shake your hand. He checked your name tag this time; he just fucking knew you'd have a pretty name. And your hand was so small and soft, he held onto it for a moment. 

You looked up at him, and an adorable giggle escaped your lips before you also said, "Hi."

"I just wanted to make sure you know I'm coming up in two more tables," he told you very seriously. 

You nodded your head and pressed your lips together to try to stifle your smile. "Yeah, I noticed that when you tried to knock several people over a few minutes ago."

Bradley smiled at you, already loving your sense of humor.

"Don't write down anything flattering about him, okay?" Bradley nodded toward the guy in the tux who just scowled in response. 

Your shoulders shook with silent laughter. "I'll see what I can do."

"Sir!" Connor scolded. "This is not your table!"

"Yes, Connor, I know," Bradley grumbled, heading over to sit with Michelle.

Michelle eyed him cautiously. "I take it you're only interested in her?" she asked, gesturing toward your table.

Bradley shrugged. "Sorry, Michelle."

She shrugged too. "That's okay. I really liked Simon. Want to hear about the novel I'm writing?"

Bradley was enthralled after five minutes of Michelle explaining the intricate plot of the detective thriller she was working on. "Damn it, Michelle. I need to know how it ends."

She smiled and jotted down his email address. "I'll put you on my mailing list."

Finally Bradley was seated at the table next to yours, just a few feet away from you. "Hi," he said again, and he could tell he must have the dumbest look on his face. 

He watched your lips curl into the most radiant smile. "Hi, Bradley." God, he felt light headed as soon as you said his name. 

"I'll be there soon," he promised, and you blushed a little bit as you turned toward another guy in a fucking suit.

Bradley turned toward Cara and asked, "Has every other guy been in a suit?"

She nodded. "One was in a tuxedo."

"Huh," he grunted, trying so hard not to focus on you while Cara asked him questions about himself. 

"Bradley, where do you work?"

He shook his head, "No... I'm originally from Virginia."

"That's not what I asked."

But Bradley couldn't help it. You were sipping your martini and re-crossing your legs. And the guy you were with sounded boring as hell.

"Are you even listening to me?" Cara asked, breaking his concentration 

"Oh, uh... sorry, no," he replied, smiling at you as you glanced at him.

"Rotate!" Connor called, and Bradley was practically shoving the suit guy out of his seat at your table. 

"Finally," he muttered, smirking as he sat down. Your cheeks were a little flushed as you spun your martini glass on the table by the stem. When your gaze slid up his chest and neck and landed on his face, he asked you, "You've gotta tell me, what are you doing here? You could get a date just walking around Target in your pajamas."

You laughed and bit your lip, tipping your head back to look at the ceiling before meeting his eyes again. "I don't wear pajamas," you told him with a smirk of your own.

Bradley sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "I rest my case."

"What about you, Bradley? You're cute. I like your mustache. And thank God you're not wearing a suit. You could probably get a date just by shoving the previous guy out of his seat and asking me."

He nodded his head and tried not to smile. You were so fun. And you were quick on the draw. "We'll get there, babe. But actually... my best friend made me come tonight. She thinks I'm too picky when it comes to women."

"Oh yeah? Well, what do you like?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips again and taking another sip.

"So far, I like you. A lot."

Your cheeks were even more flushed now, and Bradley wanted to talk to you all night long.

"What do you look for in a guy?" he asked, leaning his forearms on the table to get a little closer to you.

You leaned a bit closer as well as you told him, "I need someone who can make me laugh. It doesn't hurt if he's handsome. And I think mustaches just moved to the top of my nonnegotiable list."

Bradley licked his lips. "And what's your ideal first date, babe? I'm planning on making it very memorable for you; already hoping for a second."

You laughed again. "Padres game. Complete with beer and ballpark nachos."

"Seriously, why are you here?"

You nibbled on your lip for a beat before you said, "My sister made me come. She said she's so tired of listening to me complain that there are no cute, funny, single guys with mustaches who aren't afraid to wear a green and yellow Hawaiian print shirt in public."

Bradley's entire body was humming. "There's nothing about you that would turn me off, is there?" he asked, and his voice was raspier now. 

He watched you lick your lips and shake your head. "No. Unless you can't stand smart girls who like to be a little sassy when they aren't wearing any pajamas."

Bradley audibly groaned and you giggled. 

"Rotate!" Connor called, and everyone was up and moving around.

"Fuck, no. I'm not moving, Connor!" Bradley called over his shoulder. Your eyes were glittering with amusement, and Bradley was going to leave this bar with you if it killed him.

Connor walked over and sighed. "You've already had five minutes together."

"That's not long enough. Have you seen her, Connor?" Bradley asked, nodding at you. "Fifty bucks if you tack on another five minutes, my man," Bradley promised him, making you crack up across the table. 

Connor just muttered, "Before he wouldn't sit down, now he won't get up." 

Bradley felt you take his hand in yours, and his eyes were immediately on your face. "Let's get out of here, Bradley," you suggested. "Go to another bar? Or go for a walk?"

"Absolutely," he replied, hopping up and pulling you to your feet.

You led him through the bar, smiling at him over your shoulder as you laced your fingers through his, and Bradley could already tell you were his perfect match.

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

Natasha was still shooting some pool with the guys when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to read a text from Bradley.

Rooster Bradshaw: YOU WERE RIGHT.

"I knew it!" she shouted, jumping up and down again.

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

Thanks for reading! There are plenty of other love song themed Top Gun: Maverick stories available here!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[najikasun]

Linked Universe Characters as Things My Preschool Class Has Done (Part 2)

Twilight: We were working on rhyming words by singing Down By The Bay. Child shouts excitedly, “Guess what rhymes with goose? Deuce!! Did you ever see a goose? Eating a deuce? Down byyyyy the bay!” All adults stifle laughter.

Sky: Saw their friend trip and land on their arm, then say “Owww!” while holding their arm. I came over to see if the friend was alright, and the child watching suddenly grabbed their own arm and shouted “Owww!!” and began crying. The friend who tripped was fine. Other child was now weeping and holding their arm, which nothing happened to.

Warriors: Told me they had a secret, and motioned for me to lean down. I knelt down so they could whisper in my ear. They proceeded to begin whispering something, but then laughed so loudly that I couldn’t hear from that ear for ten minutes.

Legend: I had read a story with the phrase “ride a bucking bronco” in it. This child wanted to act out the story, and gathered friends to do so. They then proceeded to teach the entire class how to “ride a fucking frog-o.”

Wind: Will only pee if I offer to count how many seconds they pee for. Their record is eleven seconds.

Hyrule: Spent about twenty minutes setting up four different safety mats on the ground, then climbed up into the treehouse. Leapt off the treehouse. Landed completely to the left of all their mats and fractured their ankle.

Wild: They got so excited that they had a burrito for lunch that they ate it in less than two minutes and proceeded to throw it up in the next five. They then cried for about an hour because “I want my burrito back!!”

Four: Selectively mute child’s first words to me were “I found a nut. Can I eat it?” (It was a buckeye. Not edible.) When told they could not eat it, they said “Okay,” and proceeded to put their entire body into chucking it over the fence with a triumphant yell. It remains the only thing they have said to me.

Time: “It’s just nice hangin’ out with you. I’m so tired of being a kid. It’s too much work to do every day, all the time, I gotta relax from playing too hard. So I’m just hangin’ out.”

BONUS

Ravio: “Sixty-eighty-fourteen-hundred dollars for a pancake with no flour.” (I’m allergic to flour.) When I said it was too expensive, they responded with “Too bad then, you gotta get poisoned, I guess.”

Malon: “Daddy doesn’t like when people say what the heck, so you better stop it right now. He’s taller than a whole cow.”

[skyhon]

When I say gender is inherently fluid I’m not talking about It as a spectrum that has a start and an end. But I’m also saying that gender us a morphing thing that can move in all directions at any given time. So the idea that a person going from being a cis man to a trans woman to a genderqueer enby to a cis man is not invalid to me. It is just as valid to me than someone who finds that their gender likes to sit in one place is. Are people not allowed to embrace what makes them feel whole? As with anything, that changes and grows and shifts as time moves. That is the experience of life. And finding yourself somewhere else doen’t mean you weren’t ever where you were before, or that being there was wrong or a phase or whatever.

This understanding of gender fluidity and validity no matter where it takes us is why I don’t buck and screech like a bronco the moment a trans person uses the phrase “When I was [gender],” when talking about their past. So many people will immediately get on a transperson’s shit for it, mostly because that phrase is definitely used by TERFs and transphobes against those who explicitly say they’ve ‘always been [gender]’ to invalidate their experience. But to force a trans person to talk about themselves and their experiences in a certain way to create some easy-to-digest “I was always [gender]” conversation when that is not actually their experience is not only gatekeep-y, it’s also explicitly degrading a transperson’s gender identity. It’s telling them that it’s all or nothing. That when their gender flows somewhere else, it’s invalid. That they must have always been stagnant in their identity to be valid. Experiences like “I always knew I was trans since I was five,” has become the sword people use to brandish at transphobes, because it’s easy to digest. Oh, they knew since kindergarten? Well, since they knew for so long, before growing to be an adult and then years after... Maybe they have the right to exist....

While this argument has helped kickstart trans movements and understanding of trans gender identity, I see it as something genuinely holding progress back at this point. Because it’s not the universal experience, and it never has been, but to get progress done we’ve had to push the conveniently digestible trans experience to the forefront and the inconvenient fluid (and more oftentimes confusing to cis people) trans experience to the back. That was understood and in a lot of cases, completely voluntary.

But as time has gone on, there’s been rigid queer people who’ve begun to find comfort in this idea that one must fit in one box, either A or B, and you can only move between these two boxes once. They’ve essentially cultivated a queer space that excludes a huge chunk of trans people, (this is including people who aren’t TERFs!) which is the direct result of pioneering queer communities trying desperately to make their identities digestible by those who had the means to kill them.

You must understand this difference, and why it came to be. Enbies, genderfluids, genderqueers, demi-boy/girls, ‘sliding-scale’ transpeople, etc have always been around and we have always been obscured for the means of survival. We don’t conveniently fit in a box and if we ever do we tend not to stay there, and we don’t fucking want to, and we’re tired of people trying to force us to.

So next time a trans person says something about their past that alludes to or straight-up says that they had a different gender experience in the past from theirs now, and maybe they are open for it to move to something else again if it feels right, how about you appreciate that we are breaking more grounds now that we have a foothold, that we are shoving ourselves closer to the forefront, that we are becoming louder. And stop having the knee-jerk ‘omg you’re being internally transphobic to yourself’ reaction to anything outside of singular-box thinking.

We sat quiet for the better of everyone for so long, and now it’s our turn to break into the fray. Let us speak about our experiences. Let us open our mouths and make people uncomfortable and question themselves and what gender means again. This is how change happens. You think queer people showing that they exist has ever been peaceful and comfortable and easy to understand? Don’t be obtuse.

There are people out there feeling like they’re imposters for being fluid, and this resistance and invalidation against us to maintain a comfortable black-and-white ‘understanding’ of gender is literally costing lives.

And stop fucking trying to twist our narrative to something it isn’t. How about you quit it and sit, listen, think and attempt to understand. We’re not going anywhere. We’ve always been here. Stop being a dickhead.

[bakurapika]

also, and im reblogging this onto my main because i need not be constrained by social constructs, at some point i started having an appetite again. unrelated to new med. i gained a bunch of weight bc apparently i started eating again and didn't notice because that has literally been my level of functioning 😂

so anyway im counting calories again along with other fun functions of my fitbit (good news!!! apparently at some point in the 2 years ive been bitching about it, they made it possible to choose to GAIN or MAINTAIN weight rather than just losing it!!!)

and holy shit... boy i am hungry? ? i have been eating food but at what cost

(im kidding bc it's worth it to like. be functional as a human. and get nutrients)

(however ive eaten 150% of what the average adult needs to eat in a day, and im sitting here like UHGHH im gonna eat snack or else i'll die :( :( :( which has never been an issue for me??? so ??? i guess ill see what uhhhhhh happens)

i also just got a physical Exam from a Doctor who was worried about my high cholesterol, which ive always been told was prolly due to me undereating. so he's like "yeah how often do you have turkey, ham, chicken, etc..." and im like "umm im vegetarian so, none" and he was like. uhhhhhhh. and tried to figure out how much god damn milk i am apparently chugging to get this to happen. so, stay tuned for that one!

i only know the food is unrelated bc i got weighed last week before i started new meds. lol. . . .

very weirdly, it seems like some of my impulse control has been bc of adhd? like, momentum? so like if i'm still bucking like a wild bronco next week, im gonna need to intentionally try to not spend money or eat too much. whereas usually it was more of a muffled groan and a dragging of my body to get myself to do either one

Two days ago, I started my new ADHD med and it has changed my life. I'm getting tasks done. More than that, I'm just making life livable. All on my lonesome!!

So I'm wondering now, as the weekend approaches, if fic writing will be swept into that whole mental category of "things I've been meaning to do" or if it only applies to cleaning and spending money 🤔

[mymoonagedaydream]

Part 10

Summary: It looked like both you and Bucky were doomed to return from the holidays more stressed than when you’d left.

Pairing: College/Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: I just could not bring myself to give this new female character a name. The idea of one of you reading this and having the same name as her was too awful, so I just stuck with insults. 

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‘That’s... sweet.’

You plastered a sickly smile over your clenched teeth and shook her hand, ignoring the look she gave when she noticed how clammy your palm was.

You were nervous sweating, which was a pretty reasonable response to such fuckery.

Your arms unconsciously moved to circle Bucky’s waist as you felt him tense around your shoulders. At least he also seemed to be sensing the weird vibes she was giving off, you weren’t just going crazy.

Two politely-smiling adults and a very reluctant teenage boy shuffled into the house after her, the former enthusiastically introducing themselves while the latter kept his hands buried in his pockets and stared at the floor.

None of them were all over Bucky like a rash, so obviously it wasn’t just a weird family quirk.

Mother Barnes ushered everyone into the living room whilst taking drinks orders. Bucky grabbed your arm and somehow managed to get ahead of the guests, steering you over to the small, two-seater sofa where he probably assumed he’d be safe and nestling cosily next to you.

But it turns out you can’t outrun a rash, cause it strolled right past all the other free, comfortable seats to plant itself firmly on the armrest right next to him. 

Your eyebrows almost jumped off your face when you noticed her hand move to rest on his knee. Alright, he wasn’t actually your boyfriend, but she didn’t know that- and the insane amount of jealousy bubbling away in the pit of your stomach was obviously just a result of impressively efficient method acting.

He jerked his leg around a little, trying to free it, but that thing was gripped on there tighter than a cowboy on a bucking bronco.

‘Buck, do you remember thanksgiving when we were thirteen?’ She leaned forward and directed the next statement directly at you. ‘We snuck off after dinner to make out in the backyard.’

‘No it- uh, must’ve, y’know, slipped my mind.’

Jesus fuck, you were cringing so hard your skin was crawling. 

Bucky must’ve been feeling the same way, cause he shuffled closer to you, finally freeing his knee but squishing you against the opposite armrest in the process.

You just hoped he was so uncomfortable with her advances because he genuinely wasn’t interested. It might’ve been small, but you figured there was still a chance he was just putting on a show for you.

Her attention was eventually diverted from the two of you by the wider group conversation, but even that was weird and awkward. It seemed like her parents were as invested in a cross-family wedding as she was, they just would not stop going on about how cute Bucky and their daughter used to be together. 

You felt like you’d like you were in the middle of some sick, one-sided, arranged marriage plot.

After ten minutes you were pretty sick of it, even with Mother Barnes trying her best to steer the conversation to less awkward territory, bless her. You excused yourself to the kitchen, gesturing for Bucky to follow you.

Slouching against the counter, you rubbed your eyes harshly, giving him an exhausted smile as he approached. You let him slide his hands around your waist and pull you into a hug, flopping your head against his chest.

‘Please god just tell me you didn’t fuck her.’ His silence spoke for itself. You buried your face in his shirt and let out a muffled whisper. ‘Why did I even ask?’

‘I know, I’m an asshole, but it was like six years ago. I honestly have no idea what’s going on.’

You lifted your head and gave him a smirk. ‘Jesus, six years? I think I can give you a pass on that one.’

‘Still, I’ll talk to her. Tell her to back off.’

‘Just be nice.’ He frowned, raising a confused eyebrow at you. ‘She’s a little crazy but she obviously really likes you. Besides, I’m sure you’ve ghosted enough girls for one lifetime.’

‘Disagree. I think I have one more in me, but it’s not for her.’

His mischievous smirk almost made you crack a smile but you managed to smother it, trying to shove his shoulders away as he fought to tighten his hold around your waist. You burst out in shrieking laughter as he dug his fingers into your sides, the tickling sensation just enough to make your knees buckle so he was the only thing holding you up.

Unfortunately, your loud shenanigans seemed to rouse the wild beast, cause she skipped around the corner a few seconds later.

‘Hey, there you guys are! Ready for a game?’ She pulled Scrabble from behind her back and you felt your brain start to drip out of your ears. ‘We’ll do teams. Me and Buck against-’

‘I think I’ll stick with y/n.’

Bucky still had hold of you, which made her dejected silence even more bone-chillingly awkward. He flicked his gaze to your face and winced a little, begging you to interject.

‘Yep, I really need all the help I can get.’ You subtly pushed him away and straightened out your clothes. ‘Maybe ask your brother?’

She somehow got worse during the game. 

Thank god Mother Barnes had cleared away the tablecloth, cause otherwise Buck would definitely have had a foot buried in his crotch at the first opportunity.

She basically ignored you and her brother for the first half of the game, leaving the two of you to smile awkwardly at each other whenever you made accidental eye contact over the table, but she eventually flicked her gaze towards you and gave a forced smile. 

‘So how long have you two been dating?’

Your eyes widened a little. You had no idea. 

Probably would’ve been a good idea to let Bucky brief you on the story he’d told his mother but, thankfully, he swooped in to save you. 

‘Six months.’

‘Really?’ You narrowed your eyes slightly at her incredulous tone. ‘I don’t know, from what I’ve seen so far, you really don’t seem that well suited to each other.’

Wow, the audacity of this bitch.

You just let that comment hang in the air like the bad fart it was.

You were uncomfortable. Bucky was clearly uncomfortable. Even her little brother looked pretty uneasy.

It was your turn, so you moved the tiles in front of you around, nudging Bucky’s knee and pointing to your suggestion. 

H-O-E

He burst out laughing, which was a pretty jarring way to break the prolonged, uncomfortable silence that had been looming over the table, but he somehow managed to play it off as an inside joke. Smooth fucker.

The pleasure you got from seeing her so frustrated made you take a step back and check yourself, you were stunned when you realised how hateful and aggressive she was making you feel. 

You could forgive yourself a little, since the last time you’d seen another woman show interest in Bucky like this it’d ended up in an OTPHJ in the middle of the cafeteria, but you still figured it was probably best to remove yourself from this situation.

You glanced over to her little brother. ‘It’s getting late, why don’t we go see what your parents are up two while these two finish off the game?’

His face lit up and he practically leapt from his seat. You understood his excitement, the poor kid had been stuck in the middle of this shitshow all evening when he probably just wanted to be at home cussing people out in online video games.

You shot a tight smile at Little Miss Smug as you stood up to leave, then glancing over to Bucky and giving him your best subtly apologetic frown.

That shit was war and you’d just left him in No Man’s Land with an active grenade.

Back in the living room, you left it a few minutes before sneaking a peek back over to the table. Bucky was peeling her hands off his arms and scooching his chair backwards to get out of her reach.

He probably guessed that you were watching, but even so, it was pretty nice to see how well he was handling the situation. You weren’t sure what would’ve happened tonight if you hadn’t accepted his invitation to come for thanksgiving, but you tried not to think about that too much.

You’d just relaxed and re-joined the group conversation when, seemingly out of nowhere, Bucky’s raised voice echoed in from the dining room. You and Mother Barnes immediately locked eyes, frantically shrugging at each other.

A few seconds later he stormed into the living room, asking if you were ready for bed. You just gave him a slightly bewildered nod.

The two of you silently passed her, sitting at the table looking very forlorn, and climbed the stairs. Bucky didn’t say a word to you as he started to get changed and get into bed. You had no idea what mood he was in, and you weren’t sure you wanted to find out, so you just shuffled into the bathroom to change into your pyjamas. 

Thankfully, when you got back, he greeted you with a wide grin and patted the space next to him. 

‘So how was that for a nice relaxing evening?’

You chuckled in relief and flopped into bed next to him. ‘I have a stress headache.’

Burying yourself in the sheets, you scooched yourself over to his side, feeling him tense a little when you slotted yourself beside him and threw your arm over his stomach.

‘Are you drunk or something?’

‘This evening counts as a bad dream.’

‘Oh, right. Agreed.’

He turned towards you and pulled you into his chest, letting you settle into him as he softly stroked your back.

‘What happened? You sounded really pissed.’

‘She just said some horrible shit.’

You pulled your face up to his, giving him an inquisitive look. ‘Go on.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ He smiled and leaned forward, mumbling as he pressed his lips to your forehead. ‘Let's just say we aren't exactly friends anymore.’

‘Good.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

---

You felt a little gloomy as you packed your things on Sunday morning. 

You were expecting to spend the holidays cooped up in your three-room apartment, becoming one with the couch and feeling guilty for making delivery drivers come by three times a day. Instead, you’d had an unexpectedly lovely time and had gained at least five hearty, home-cooked pounds around your hips, which you didn’t regret even a little. 

You’d never admit it to Bucky, but you were really going to miss this place.

You got dressed in motorbike-appropriate clothes and said your long goodbyes to Mama Barnes, ignoring Buck’s satisfied smirk when you promised her that you’d be back soon. 

As she waved you off, you did find yourself genuinely hoping that this wouldn’t be the last you saw of her. 

Nat was at the door to greet you when you got home, shooting you an intrigued look as she watched you give Bucky a long, tight hug goodbye. You hadn’t spoken to her the whole time you’d been away, so she had no idea to what extent things between you two had developed.

She didn’t even let you unpack before sitting you on the couch and making you fill her in on everything.

‘It sounds so nice.’

You let a wide smile spread across your face. ‘It was, yeah.’

‘So you two are pretty much official now?’

‘Oh, no.’ And just like that, your smile dropped. ‘Not at all.’

‘You’re fucking kidding me?’

You were a little taken aback, she sounded genuinely angry. Steve had obviously managed to convert her to team Bucky while you’d been gone.

‘I don't know, what if commitment freaks him out again and pushes him over the edge? He’s still a massive risk.’

‘Oh, come on. He fucked up, what, two months ago? He’s trying so hard, give him a break.’ You felt like a kid being told off by their mother for writing a cuss word on the wallpaper in crayon. ‘At least make a decision before Christmas break. It's not fair to keep him waiting longer than that.’

You slouched back and sighed aggressively at her. ‘You’re probably right.’

‘I’m always right.’

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Part 11

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