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darkbluekies · 2 days ago

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Christmas tendencies

Yandere!king x fem!reader

Summary: spending Christmas with Edmund can't go wrong<3 can it?

Warnings: Edmund not being nice, in fact being quite naughty, jealousy

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: i thought it'd be a waste to not post this when it was so near completion! So please enjoy and have a merry Christmas if you do celebrate it♡

As if on purpose, the snow has graced the earth for Christmas after not showing itself for the entirety of december. But now, a thick layer of snow covers everything that was once dead and grey. You can’t help but feel excitement. Maybe Christmas with Edmund won’t be hell after all?

You’re standing in one of the gigantic windows, looking out over the castle grounds—the very same you’re not allowed out in. The castle’s gardeners have decorated every bush, every tree, with lights and decorations.

“You’ve been standing here for a good forty five minutes now, my jewel”, Edmund says as he walks over to you, fixing his golden cufflinks. “How much more interesting can it get after ten?”

“You don’t get it”, you reply over your shoulder. “The gardeners have spent a lot of time decorating the grounds, shouldn’t one get to admire their hard work?”

You feel how Edmund comes up behind you, sneaks his arms around your waist and buries his chin into your shoulder.

“The staff has put a great detail into the interior too”, he mumbles. “Why don’t you stare at that for an hour or two?”

You scoff.

“I think it’s pretty”, you reply and turn your eyes out the window again. “With the snow and everything. Besides, I’ve already inspected every decoration inside, I helped hang them up.”

“You did, and it’s very pretty. Just like you. I like your dress.”

It’s a red velvet dress reaching down to the floor with long, cape sleeves.

You turn around to get a look at him. He's wearing a black suit with loose white pieces that puff out. Golden cufflinks and a white bow. His fluffy dark hair has been brushed back, face newly shaven—although there never was anything to shave to begin with.

“You look like you've been tortured”, you joke.

“Haha, funny”, he replies sarcastically, clearly not impressed. “I've told them time and time again that I have an extremely sensitive scalp but no one listens, they force me to do silly hairstyles like this. I think I must have lost at least half of my hair.”

You reach to fix a strand of hair that escaped his hairstyle. You can feel him shudder under your fingertips.

“You’ll live”, you say. “Besides, you look more grown this way.”

“Do I?” Edmund smirks proudly. “Do I look manly?”

“Don’t push it.”

He scoffs.

Weirdly enough, Edmund has agreed on letting you out of the castle today. Just because it's a special day. The townsfolk are having a market that you have begged to visit and who is Edmund to deny your Christmas wish?

“Are you ready, my love?” he asks and takes your hand. “The carriage it out on the front yard. Let’s get this over with.”

“Can’t you at least pretend to be excited?” you ask with a sad pout.

He sighs and rolls his eyes before nodding.

“I’ll have to take a long, scolding bath right after coming back”, he mutters. “Who knows what kind of diseases they can carry? Oh, you’re taking that bath with me, by the way. My Christmas wish.”

He’s like a child when it comes to your bare body, getting eyes wide as moons when he gets to see the most vulnerable parts of you. It confuses you. In his past he has allowed himself to a majority of women and their bodies, so why does he look at you as if he’s never seen it before?

It’s one of the few times you see him without his cocky exterior. He looks at you with eyes of gratitude, as if showing yourself to him is the greatest gift of mankind.

Edmund holds your hand tightly as you walk out to the royal carriage. The driver holds the door open for you, but Edmund insists on helping you up in it. He sits down in front of you. The carriage is decorated with golden details and small cherubs.

“You don’t have to look like you’re being driven to your execution”, you say and raise your eyebrows.

“I’m not happy about this”, he says. “This is something you want.”

“Can’t you be happy for me, then? Please, Eddie?”

His cheeks take on a red tone. The nickname has only been used by you, ever. You gave it to him, you’re the only one that is allowed to say it. The firs time you had said it, he hadn’t known how to react. He had been staring at you with large eyes, wondering what prompted you to give him a nickname when no one else had ever imagined to do such a thing. At first, he was unsure what he thought of the name. He was king Edmund. Had once been prince Edmund. Rarely Edmund. Never Eddie.

“Fine”, he says and clears his throat, trying to play it off. “I’ll try. But don’t call me that when we’re there.”

“Are you scared that the townsfolk will lose respect for you if they hear that you have a cute, little nickname?” you giggle.

Edmund rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward.

“No”, he says, smirking devilishly. “Because I don’t want other people to know what you call out in bed.”

Your jaw hangs open in shock and you grab the pillow behind your back, hitting him. Edmund covers himself with his arms, laughing.

“Watch the hair!” he shouts.

“You didn’t like the hair anyway”, you remind him.

“It’s Christmas, you’re supposed to be nice. Don’t be naughty!”

“Naughty? Who the hell started talking about naughty stuff? You started it!”

Edmund laughed. His blue eyes glittered.

The carriage rolls into the town. You turn your eyes out the window to look at what you’ve been watching from afar. You get out together, Edmund holding onto you so that you don’t fall. The townsfolk keep a distance, knowing that the knights will go to attack if they come to close. Their bright eyes watch on as if they’ve seen something extraordinary. And maybe, you think, for them this is something extraordinary.

Their eyes follow you to the christmas market.

“All eyes are making me shy”, you whisper to Edmund.

“Drink it all in, darling”, Edmund replies quietly. “They worship you, but not as much as I do … and if they try I’m going to kill them.”

“Be quiet!” you hiss.

Edmund scoffs and rubs your back with his hand. You walk through the streets to the town’s square where multiple small sheds are put up, full of candy, baked bread, knitted goods and alcohol. While you walk around chit-chatting with the vendors, Edmund stands close behind you, a hand on you always. A warning, to everyone around you. You are his, and no one is going to forget that—absolutely not you.

You buy something from every stand and insist of carrying it yourself. Edmund can’t understand why you want such … cheap crap. He can give you the same things but done well, made by professionals who cost him a fortune. He doesn’t let you eat anything and keeps a constant, watchful eyes around.

“Smile a bit more, why don’t you?” he mutters in your ear.

His jealousy is like a wildfire, spreading through him quickly and dangerously. With no easy way to stop it.

“Edmund”, you whisper quietly. “Stop it.”

“You bought so much from that man”, he continued. “What did you hope to achieve?”

“Edmund!”

He stays silent the rest of the Christmas market. As soon as you get back to the carriage, he can’t keep quiet anymore.

“Those are so fucking ugly”, says as the door to the carriage closes.

“That is so unnecessarily mean”, you hiss back at him. “They don’t have what you have. They do their best. And, for having as little as they do, I think they look great.”

You hold your new treasures in your lap closely.

“I don’t want to spend more time with you if you’re going to be like this”, you mumble without looking at him.

You’re happy for your new things. But he doesn’t understand. Edmund sighs heavily, clenches his jaw and nods.

“Okay”, he mutters and takes your hands in his. “I’m sorry … but I could have given you so much better things. If you wanted new mittens, I could have given you them. These things … who knows what could actually be in them?”

You put on the hand knitted mittens.

“Take them off”, Edmund says, but he doesn’t sound angry or demanding like before. “Darling, my jewel, I’m serious. I don’t want you getting a rash, or something.”

“We’re taking a bath when we get back, don’t we?”

Edmund sighs and gives up. You hold up your hands.

“Aren’t they kind of cute?” you ask. “A little?”

“Fuck no.”

“What if I had made them?”

“You wouldn’t have. If you had knitted mittens, they’d be a thousand times better.”

“You are so mean.” You keep your eyes on your hands. “You were jealous out there too.”

“Of them? Of those filthy peasants?”

“Of those men.”

Edmund leans back in his seat, jaw tightening.

“Men”, he scoffs and turns his head towards the window. “I wouldn’t call them ‘men’.”

“Childish jealousy doesn’t look good on a king”, you point out.

“You like it when I’m childish though. You laugh, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“You don’t need to be jealous over them. I don’t know them.”

“Everyone wants you. And it makes me sick.”

“Everyone wants you too.”

“They want to be me. But they want you. And I will never let that happen. You are mine.”

“I know. You’re the last person to let me forget that.”

When you get back to the castle, the two of you walk straight to the bathroom where the maids have poured a hot bubble bath that is burning to the touch. Edmund holds you close to him in his arms.

The rest of the day is spent in the big living room, in front of the gigantic christmas tree that needed a dozen workers to decorate. Edmund wanted the entire town to be able to see the lights from his tree.

“Merry Christmas, my love”, he says and holds out a red box.

You remove the wrapping smd open the box, finding a necklace with large, round pearls. It's heavy in your hands, and even heavier around your neck.

“These pears cost me quite a lot”, Edmund says and touches the pearls carefully. “But they're cheap in comparison to what my love for you is worth.”

And he means it. He really does.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere king #female reader

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trashwithvariety · 3 days ago

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so this has probably already been talked about in great detail since the end of the show (hannibal) but I just did a rewatch and I can't shut up about it. the incredible level of subtle details in this show is already insane but I noticed it much clearer in my rewatch during season 3 part two how quickly we see Will change.

during *The Great Red Dragon*, Will is back to mostly his pre-Hannibal self. We see him married with a family out in the country with his dogs and more specifically his clothes (I am going to be very specific about what he wears in this because it's these details that are so subtle but make his change so much more crispy). He's wearing very practical, warm weather clothes, looks like an outdoorsman.

like, reminder that this ↓

is how he shows up to meet Hannibal again for the first time in years. Glasses, coat, clearly clothes he would not think twice about wearing anywhere, kind of like how he dresses in season one. It's also in his expression and his stature (which bless Hugh Dancy for his portrayal of Will because I don't know who else could have done the subtle changes so eloquently)

now let me take you to the episode directly after (And the Woman Clothed with the Sun) he first sees Hannibal and has to come back to talk to him

i'm sorry??? Immediately with the crisp button down, tucked in, with the top buttons undone, hair slicked back, NO GLASSES and look. Look at how he stands and his expression and how comfortable he is, hands in pockets.

okay further evidence. And honestly arguably the scariest piece

it's the dead-eyed stare for me. We all know what happened to Chilton after this, and it's the fact that he knew what he was doing. God, Will was never more like Hannibal than he was at the end of season three. Clothes are not much different on purpose because he's playing the game now.

Sidebar that in almost all the scenes that he's bitchily talking to Bedelia, he's also very well dressed as if he's taking Hannibal's place in his manipulation of her.

By the time we see him in The Wrath of the Lamb, he has already decided that he wants Hannibal back. Vaguely suggesting to Jack to use Hannibal as bait for the Dragon, as if he didn't very well consider all the outcomes would likely lead to Hannibal escaping. The way they're looking conspiratorially at each other in the back of the van. How Will isn't even remotely surprised he walks out unscathed or how he doesn't question letting him drive them to wherever they're going to meet the dragon.

And once they get to the cliffside house, and they get settled and Will?

His shirt is tight, his expression is the SAME as the one Hannibal had in episode ONE season ONE, as he watches Hannibal BLEED OUT and wonders probably what they will do.

There are plenty of ways everyone that worked on this show displayed how Will was changing but I loved how they used his clothes to do it and how Hugh used his expressions to differentiate pre-Hannibal and post-Hannibal Will.

I could write a dissertation on this show it's insane and I will never shut up about my murderous gay husbands.

#i love them your honor #nbc hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #bryan fuller #hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy

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st4rgiirll · 3 days ago

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secret

jj maybank x routledge!reader.

this is heavily inspired by that part in friends where everyone finds out about monica and chandler😭 this is also in little segments for each character finding out.

also, some of the events dont match up to the storyline of the show. i just thought of storylines for this fic and incorporated them into this.

synopsis: jj and reader have had a secret relationship for the past couple months, secret all thanks to the ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule. but what if the pogues find out on their own?

you loved jj. truly. the past couple months with him have been amazing, though you both yearned to be able to do this in public. but you wouldnt, not with john b around. sneaking around with jj was fun,

of course it was, but it got repetitive very quickly.

until you got found out.

pope:

hushed giggles and rapid footsteps invaded your bedroom as jj and you rushed inside for some very much needed alone time together, lips crashing together between laughs. your hands wandered his biceps, feeling them flex and twitch under your fingers.

it wasnt long before his hands were on the back of your head, tugging your head closer for another kiss. you resisted, thinking you heard footsteps. he grumbled, trying to pull you closer once more.

“c’mon princess, i havent been able to kiss you all day! let me make up for it now.” he mumbled, lowering his head toward your neck.

he sucked and bit at your neck, soothing the slight sting with a swipe of his tongue. he barely got to touch you today, let alone kiss you! he felt like he was going insane.

“jay- just- someone might be coming.” you mumble lowly, tilting your head up to allow him to kiss your neck.

yeah, so what? your resolve was weak when it came to jj, you couldnt help it.

“you’re paranoid, cupcake. jus’ give papa j some lovin’ yeah?” he grins goofily against the supple skin of your neck.

“y-yeah… you’re right.” you agree, allowing your hand that was previously itching to grip jj’s hair finally doing so.

you allowed jj’s kisses to travel up your neck and to your lips, your tongues immediately fighting for dominance. jj sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, fiddling with your crop top’s straps. he pushed the strap to the side, allowing it to fall off your shoulder.

pope, who’d watched jj walk in your room, had swung the door open to ask jj what he was doing in your room. his jaw had dropped, but jj just smirked. until his brain caught up with what was happening, in which his smirk melted off his face and grew into a more flustered look.

“uhm- jj- y/n-“ pope stumbles over his words, eyes wide in shock.

your own face was complimented by a light tint of pink, your hands now resting on jj’s shoulders rather than in his hair.

“well- w-we can explain.” you say, hopping away from jj’s body.

“we’re kind of, like, seeing eachother… in secret though, so please please please… dont tell anyone, especially not jb.” you explain, your eyebrows pulled together in concern.

“y-yeah, yeah.. okay… how- i mean, how are you two together? why?” pope asks, confused.

“well pope, when two people love eachother-“ jj starts before you smack his chest.

“we got together after the midsummers, to be fair jj was pretty tipsy. but we’re really happy together, and he’s great.” you smile.

“and the sex is just as great-“ jj guffaws before you give him a deadpanned look and his laugh dies into more of an awkward smile.

“im uh, im happy for y’all…” pope says, before shooting us a smile and quickly making a break out of the room.

”god, that was so awkward.” you mutter.

kiara:

the both of you were at an infamous boneyard party, maybe a little too tipsy. neither of you cared very much though, just dancing and having fun with your boyfriend, brother, and friends.

you’d excused yourself to go and grab another drink, jj offering to come with you. he followed behind you like a lost puppy, and once you were far enough away from the others he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“y’know why they call this ‘the boneyard’ baby?” he whispered seductively with an even more seductive laugh.

“no, why?” you bit your lip to supress a smile.

“well, obviously because people’d come here all the time for parties. and y’know what they’d do?” he paused for a moment before continuing.

“they’d bone, baby!” he laughed, pulling your hips closer to his own.

“‘nd i think we should do the same… y’know, continue a legacy or some shit.”

“hmm..” you hum.

“i guess… it wouldnt be a bad idea..” you giggle, turning around and holding his face in your hands and pecking a kiss on his lips.

“mm, good girl.” he grins, his head going straight to your neck to suck hickeys onto the skin there all while being too drunk to care about who would see it in the morning.

you let out an involuntary shiver, your arms wrapping around his neck while your fingers fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“jump.” he mumbles huskily, and of course you comply with that tone of voice.

he catches you in his arms, wrapped around your thighs. he quickly takes you away from prying eyes toward the twinkie, pushing you against the door.

“the things you do to me…” he groans, his hand caressing your thigh.

“y’so pretty baby, cant believe i landed you…” he says in a lovestruck tone, kissing up your neck and eliciting a couple of breathy moans from you.

he pulls you away from the door to pull it open, laying you on the floor of the twinkie. within seconds of shutting the door, his lips are back on you sucking and kissing. his hips rolled against yours as his wandering hands pulled the end of your dress up.

“oh baby, y’soaked through your panties… all this mess f’me?” he smirks, fingers playing with the edge of your panties.

“y-yeah, all f’you jay… please..” you whimper, and of course he cant deny you.

he’s completely pussy whipped, and he doesnt mind admitting it.

“i know baby..” he coos.

“i’ll help you baby, my good girl..” he grunts, unbuckling his belt.

you giggled in excitement as your legs instinctively spread further for him, until the door opened and kie stood there.

you were frozen in shock, this was the second time! jj closed your legs, giving you some sort of dignity.

“kie…” he starts.

“oh my god… john b’s actually going to end you.” the frizzy haired girl muttered.

“what? no he wont, im his best friend. he knows i’ll take good care of her.” he shrugs, though deep down he was worried john b would disapprove.

“please, kie.. dont tell anyone, not even sarah… we’re gonna tell everyone eventually, but just in our own time.” you plead, hoping she’d keep this a secret for our sake.

“okay, fine… but you keep being reckless and everyone will find out on their own.” she said, before grabbing what she needed and shutting the door.

and god, you knew she was right.

cleo:

jj was just working at the shop, stocking shelves and working behind the counter. you were supposed to be doing the same. key word: supposed.

see, you were too busy ogling at jj. i mean, how could you not?! he was a total dreamboat with his fluffy hair, his cargo shorts, those damn sleeveless shirts he always wore that made you want to jump his bones. dont even start with the rings.

you figured you must be ovulating because this never usually was an issue, and the dirty thoughts infiltrating your mind definitely didnt help.

“staring’s rude y’know?” he laughs slightly, not even looking up from whatever he was doing from behind the counter.

“i wasnt staring.” you reply, clearing your throat and starting to stock shelves again.

“right, and im not baked all the time. sweetheart, there’s no shame in drooling.” he snickers.

“i am not drooling.” you had to check your mouth to make sure you really werent drooling, the way you were so distracted with him you werent even sure what was happening around you.

“whatever you say.” he sighs, closing the cash register after counting the money. “c’mere darlin’.”

you didnt even fight it when your legs automatically started moving behind the counter, god you were so down bad. and you didnt even care.

you immediately gripped his shirt and pulled him into a passionate kiss, not able to resist him and his damn kissable lips. he let out a surprised grunt, but kissed you back.

this kiss lasted for a couple minutes, blocking every other thing in the world out. you guys were in your own little bubble.

“whatchu doin’?” cleo’s voice sounds out from infront of the counter.

you quickly jump away from eachother, jj scratching the back of his neck. god this was so embarrassing, you seriously needed to get better at this sneaking around bullshit.

“ah, i see… you guys been mackin’ eachother huh?” the girl grinned.

“glad to see y/n’s finally getting some though.” she winked at you.

“ha ha, funny.” you huff.

“please dont tell anyone..” you ask.

“or do, not like it’d make much of a difference. we’re always getting caught-“ jj gets cut off by a slap to the chest.

“shush jj, she should keep it quiet.” you hiss.

“right, yeah. cleo, keep it quiet.” he says.

“huh. rude boy’s pussy whipped.” she huffs out a laugh, walking out of the shop.

“well- wh- are you gonna keep it quiet?!” jj calls our after cleo but earns no response.

john b & sarah:

jj and you were just cuddling, that was all. nothing more, nothing less. there wasnt any sexual intentions behind it, just some romantic cuddles between lovers. and he’d just been beaten by his dad, again, so he needed some extra loving from his girl.

“he’s an asshole, jay… i hate what he does to you, i wish i could kill ‘im for you..” you say softly, carding your fingers through his soft hair.

“i wouldnt let you do that, cant have my pretty girl goin’ to jail for me.” he smiles, kissing your cheek lovingly.

“mm, you’re so perfect jay.. y’know that?” you ask.

“nah sweetheart, i think you’re the perfect one.. have you looked in the mirror lately? i mean, hot damn.” he grins.

you blush, you were never good at accepting compliments. “jay, stop…” you whine a little, covering your face.

“nuh uh… i wanna see that beautiful face of yours.” he pulls your hands away from your face and pecks the tip of your nose.

“much better.” he smiles.

the door swings open, the exhausted couple - john b and sarah - barging through with their small, 3 year old toddler in tow.

“yo jayj, can-“ john b’s voice dies out in shock.

“what the fuck man?!” his voice rings out, sarah placing a hand on his bicep to ground him and remind him of his son still in the room.

“you’re macking my sister?!” john b huffs, the vein in his neck popping out in anger.

“john b- i-it isnt what you think! we arent.. macking! okay?!” you get up to stand infront of john b, blocking his view of jj.

“john b.. we’re dating, jj’s my boyfriend-“

“wow! that’s supposed to make it better?! you’re supposed to tell me, y/n! and jj! my best friend man, what the hell?! could’ve atleast asked for my permission!” john b was so angry, he just wanted the best for his baby sister, wanted to protect her.

he really wasnt ready to see her getting into relationships, having to let her go and be protected by some other guy who wasnt him. a guy who could hurt his baby sister.

“he doesnt need your permission! im my own person okay?! if there’s anyone you can trust with protecting me, its jj! you know that! he’s as loyal as a damn golden retriever!” you defended jj.

it seemed to calm john b a little, sarah was outside the bedroom so the little guy didnt hear the ruckus.

“yeah… god, yeah you’re right… i just- i dont want you to stop being my baby sister, i wanna be able to be the one you always come to when something’s wrong.. i wanna protect you.” john b says softly, he was used to having to protect you since dad had gone to find the royal merchant, and was now dead.

“i know… and you still can okay? you and jj can be like- like guard dogs, huh?” you giggle.

“john b.. man, i love her.. i really do. she’s everything to me. you can trust me.” jj reassures.

sarah comes back into the room once she hears the calm talking between you all, little baby jesse john routledge, or jj as everyone called him, following with a smile.

“so… you two huh?” sarah wiggles her eyebrows, grinning.

“yeah…” you smile, blushing slightly.

“well, i guess… i approve, but if you hurt her maybank-“ john b starts.

“you’ll kill me, i know. i’d kick myself over and over if i ever hurt her, before you could even kill me.” he sincerely reassures.

“well, now that’s over… could you watch jesse for us? we gotta go help out around the store…” sarah asks.

“sure, we’ll look after him.” you smile, picking little jesse up.

jj looks at you with the utmost love in his eyes, and john b knew he’d made a good choice trusting jj with you. john b could see how in love the maybank boy was, it was a look unlike any he’d ever seen on the boys face, and if you knew jj, you knew he was a facially expressive person.

john b smiled, ushering sarah out the door and closing it behind him. all he heard as they left were giggles from the three of us.

#obx imagine #obx fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #john b x sister!reader #pogues x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank #kiara carrera #pope heyward #cleo anderson #sarah cameron #john b routledge

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jeannyjaykaydeh · 2 days ago

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Merry Sinsmas

Alastor x Reader

Just a little thought I'd like to share with you because I’m in the Christmas mood.

I hope you enjoy reading it and if you celebrate Christmas: I wish you a Merry Christmas. And if you don't: I hope you have a great few days anyway. :)

And to all of you: Merry Sinsmas. :D

Warning: I hope you don't mind that this short story briefly mentions that you are from Germany. If you can't identify with this, just see this sentence as a joke to wriggle out of a situation.

—————————————————————————

You're standing in the hotel lobby with a clipboard in your hand, working through a to-do list. You are in the middle of your Christmas preparations. Charlie and Vaggie are busy decorating the big tree in the centre of the lobby next to the stairs, Niffty is cleaning and judging by her crazy laugh, she's in a very Christmassy mood.

Lucifer is tending to the fairy lights, Husk is making punch for everyone and Angel and Cherri Bomb are getting the sound system ready.

As you stare at your clipboard, thinking about what you could do next, you notice out of the corner of your eye a shadow rise from the floor and stand next to you.

You don't even have to lift your eyes to realise that it's Alastor, standing so close to you that his large body is pressed against you.

You hear a snap of fingers, but you skilfully ignore it.

You're too busy dealing with the fact that the radio demon is invading your comfort zone - as he so often does.

It doesn't take long before he clears his throat meaningfully, inviting you to give him your attention.

So you raise your eyes and suppress your annoyed expression as best you can.

You look at him expectantly. What does he want?

He looks down at you with a mischievous smile. Then he takes a quick look at the ceiling before his eyes wander back to you.

You look up and see a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, obviously conjured up by him.

You sigh slightly.

So he wants to be kissed.

Alastor is really trying everything he can to get to you. You realise that he's been trying to make advances to you for months and win your heart with small - and also very large - gestures.

What you keep to yourself the whole time: He won your heart a long time ago. But you don't want to admit it.

Yes, you fancy Alastor - oh, you're so in love with him!

But your fear of commitment and the fact that he's one of the most dangerous demons here in hell stop you from getting involved with him.

Much to the displeasure of your friends, because the tension between Alastor and you has left its mark on them too and now they really want to see you two as a couple.

"Hahaaaa, there's a little green branch hanging right above us. What funny coincidences there are, aren't there, my dear?" he says euphorically in his radio filter voice.

"Real coincidences, yes," you reply sarcastically and leave it at that. At least that's what you try to do, but there's no way Alastor will let you get away with it.

He steps closer to you - it's hard to believe that's still possible - leans forward slightly and says: "You know I'm a man of tradition. In my day, we followed every custom without even batting an eyelid. It would be a shame for me and my inner well-being if you didn't appreciate my traditions, sweetheart."

You give him a wry, cheeky grin. Then you turn away from him and say: "Well, it's just a shame that I'm from Germany and this mistletoe tradition isn't practised there."

You move away from him and leave him standing there in his indignant static noise.

"OH NO, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" Angel suddenly shouts across the lobby. He jumps up from his chair and stomps angrily towards you, grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around and pushes you back on your heels under the mistletoe, where he sets you down right in front of the radio demon.

He grumbles: "We're not in fucking Germany here, we're in hell! And here ya don't just kiss under the mistletoe, here ya even fuck when ye're standin' under it! So do yerself and us a favour and respect our traditions! Ya kiss that creepy man now, understand?"

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betsybookworm · 1 day ago

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Materials for spinning/weaving/knitting/crochet/etc are also generally quite expensive in the quantity needed for garments, but if you keep an eye out for people's destash stuff it's better.

Spinning is the slowest part of making any garment from scratch. Look at any of the back to back / sheep to jumper/sweater competitions and see the ratio of spinners to knitters. That said, spinning is very accessible and simple (particularly if you're spinning the most common kinds of wool), and once you've got the muscle memory built up it's quite mindless.

If you buy second hand looms or spinning wheels at an op shop or estate sale or otherwise not from the person who used it, be aware that it may require fixing up before use. Again, your local Spinners and Weavers Guild is the place to go for help and advice. I go to the same guild that @madanimalscientist goes to in Brisbane, and I've been going there on and off since 2002. If you're in Australia and want help finding your local guild I'm happy to give it a go!

A note about the poor quality commercial clothing thing - it is so true. I've been doing a lot of wardrobe culling lately and pulling so many dead clothes out. But now that I weave (I've only been weaving the past few years, I was a spinner and knitter long before that), I've started turning all the cheap dead clothes I have into rag rugs! My house is cosier, my cats love them, and it's a lot longer until all that poor-quality fabric ends up in landfill. If you haven't already, I highly recommend watching the ABC's The War On Waste show for some great material (pun intended) on the fast fashion waste problem, which is very much tied to the fast fashion poor quality problem.

I'm so pissed right now. I know that fabric has been declining in quality for a while but I just bought new pajamas from kmart and they are literally see through. Not just through one layer of fabric either; I can see through the leg, that is, through 2 layers of fabric. These aren't clothes. I am not exaggerating when I say that I have strained soup through cheesecloth thicker than these pants. These are men's flannel pajamas, the kind people wear in winter, and they are made if shittier thinner fabric than even the most bargain bin bullshit halloween costumes. This "flannel" feels like plastic and is thinner than a chux wipe. Why is this even for sale.

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nayaesworld · 2 days ago

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Mafioso

Warnings: Murder, manipulation, drugs and violence

Terry Richmond X OC!Marina

The collective clink of champagne glasses filled the large venue as self-made millionaire and philanthropist Terry Richmond concluded his speech at the second annual charity event for Black women and children. Thunderous claps and cheers bounced off the walls as he exited the stage and came down to thank each and every single person that had come out to support and donate to the amazing cause. He was elated and proud of the turnout; truly grateful.

At 43 Terry felt at the height of his career. The comings and goings of life reflected well on his face and he carried all those trials and triumphs with him on his sleeve next to his heart. His story was a story of the people.

The night was a huge success. A large volume of high profile people had pledged and donated to this cause right along with him. Close family and friends came out in support and he circled around the room checking in on them and taking breaks to hit a shimmy or two on the dance floor.

He had also allowed some of his favorite black journalists and reporters to give interviews, but he was most interested in one in particular that had been very vocal and fierce about the safety of black children in spaces that society deemed not fit for them. How many times had a black child been harmed or put in a traumatic situation due to racism? Far too many times to count and they deserved a space to perfect their crafts without fear or judgement.

Marina Evans was a woman of poise, integrity, and culture, and at 25 she was at the top of her game. Not many could deny her journalistic credentials. She was the first person he wanted to give an interview to tonight and he sought her out quickly through the sea of people. The bold black gown had been a wondrous choice against her bronzed skin. Honey blond braids highlighting the warm undertones of her skin and dark expressive eyes styled with a natural set of wispy lashes. She was a show stopper. A true beauty.

She had just ended an interview with Weston Troy, a filthy rich middle aged man that owned a few hospitals in the area. Her eyes drifted over to him and she began to set up for his interview. A warm welcoming smile graced her face and he made sure to return it. Cameras and microphone ready, Terry adjusted his black suit and freed his mind.

“Tonight I am here speaking with local philanthropist and founder of ‘Hearts of Grace’ a charity founded to give aid and relief to underprivileged families…and without further ado I’d like to welcome Mr. Terry Richmond. How are you feeling about the turnout tonight… did you project the earnings for year two to surpass year one by so much?”

“ I’m feeling amazing tonight, the turnout was more than I could have ever imagined. When I initially started this charity I had no idea that anyone would ever give money to the cause at such a high volume, it's too often that things within the affiliation of the black community are not taken seriously or into consideration… I would like to change that, and with all the resources at my hand I'd be foolish not to invest it into people who look like me and sound like me.”

“I love that, what you did here tonight was jaw dropping. The kind of things I want to see more of, what does it mean for you to give back and support black families,businesses, and neighborhoods?” He pondered a bit before answering and pulled his lip from his teeth.

“It means that I have an opportunity to cater to and serve these underprivileged families, I too come from very humble beginnings. I grew up in a single parent household, it was just me and my mother so sharing this wealth with many people is top priority.”

“Terry, that is just amazing, I’m excited for more people to hear your story… for you it's been a long time coming, but for many of us this is our first time seeing someone who we relate to so much do as many great things as you have…and that brings me to my next question. How does being a role model to the younger generation speak to you?” Her questions were definitely living up to her reputation, she asked the real shit and he paused to gather his words, this was a passionate subject for him so finding the right words was essential.

“Being a role model for the younger generation entails a particular type of character and finesse… I want them to know that yes hard work and dedication can afford you the luxuries of life, but I also want them to understand that mental health is just as important um..if not more important than any career field or industry they choose.”

“I also saw that you named your charity after your mother Grace, how does it feel tonight to share this with her… I’m sure she is so proud of you.”

“My mother means the world to me…for any time I was ever in trouble or needed her she picked up the phone, she lifted me up, and she molded me into the man I am today. I don’t care how old I get or how many things I achieve, I'll always be her baby.”

“It was such a pleasure to interview you tonight, I thank you so much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to allow me to talk and pick your brain.” Marina had interviewed many men and women of different backgrounds and profiles, but none had ever struck her as truly genuine people quite as he did. He truly meant those words.

“Oh no anytime..you’ve had the best questions I thank you for that. And when I’m ready for another interview I know how to find you, thank you for coming out tonight Ms.Evans I truly appreciate it.” Terry left it plainly at that. He didn’t wanna seem weird by telling the young girl that he was an avid viewer of her podcast and hadn’t missed any episodes thus far.

The night carried on and people filled their bellies to the brim with liquor and a catered banquet of savory mouth watering food. Terry was on his second plate of food and had been cackling loudly in his mothers ear, all tipsy and giggly from the constant glasses of champagne.

“Boy you are just tickled to death ain’t you, what’s so funny son?” He rested his head onto her shoulder and squeezed her into a warm hug.

“I’m just happy ma..that’s it. Tonight turned out amazing and I get to honor you right along with it..I hope you’re proud.”

“Son is proud even the word for what I feel? You make me ecstatic, I hoped and prayed for so many long nights for you to have something…anything to call your own, and look at you now.” Grace pressed a kiss to her son's forehead before standing from her seat.

“Walk your mama to her car, I’m going to turn in for the night.”

Terry walked his mother to her car and watched her disappear into the distance before he walked back into the building. Standing with his hands in the pockets of his smooth slacks, he surveyed the area with calm eyes. He was looking for someone. Ahh there she is. Honey blond braids swaying gently behind her as she rocked in her chair to the music. Headed in her direction he grabbed a freshly poured glass of champagne from the table and handled the delicate glass in his hands carefully.

Cognac eyes met his as he finally made it into her line of vision. “Champagne? I wasn’t aware you were still here Ms.Evans.” Her pretty manicured hand accepted the drink from him and she sipped a little before answering him.

“Yeah I guess I’m a bit of a recluse…I prefer to fade into the background at events like these. Sometimes it’s better to just watch.” Terry hummed in his throat before taking a seat in front of her crossing his left leg over his right.

“And on that point we do agree…for causes such as these I can show up no questions asked, otherwise I’m home nose deep in a good podcast.” His deep rumbling laugh coaxed a cute chuckle from her mouth.

She sipped a little more of the sweet champagne before she answered him. ”Oh wow me too , so you have a favorite one you listen too?”

“Yes…yours. It’s the only one I can sit through and enjoy without a missed episode. You’re great at what you do Ms.Evans…very captivating topics.” Terry watched a hand press to her chest in shock as her mouth fell in shock.

“You watch lil ole’ me, wow Terry I really appreciate that. And I try to make things interesting as well as informative… I'm happy it reaches you well.”

“There’s nothing little about the work you do, remember that.” Maria shyly tilted her head to the side, peeking up into his face from under her lashes.

”Thank you so much Terry, you have the kindest eyes by the way…sorry if that was weird.” He dropped his head and let his eyes lock onto hers and watched her skin heat up under his gaze.

“No no, not weird at all. I receive that..thank you beautiful.”

Terry enjoyed picking her head for the reminder of their time together. By 9pm the event had wrapped and everyone filed out of the large double doors to head home. Terrys large hand graced the small of her back not wanting to lose her in the crowd of people, he hated that their time was cut short because he had really enjoyed chatting with the smart woman.

“Did you drive here?” He looked down at her once they’d made it outside, the middle of people around them creating the perfect bubble for tj to talk.

“Mhmh I did.. I’m right over there, the black Acura.” Her dainty finger pointed at the sleek Acura suv that was coincidentally parallel parked behind his Manhattan Green BMW X6.

“ I’ll walk you..we’re parked right by each other.” Her heels clicked against the dark asphalt and she let a yawn escape her pretty lips.

“Tired Ms.Evans? Sorry to keep you so late, I’m sure you have other obligations.”

“Mhm it’s all the food and champagne getting to me, and no please don’t apologize I had such a nice time tonight… thank you again for extending an invitation to me.” The two stopped in front of her suv and it had Terry wishing he could turn back time.

“And miss an opportunity to talk to the gorgeous and seriously intelligent Marina Evans… not a chance. Thank you for your support, and drive safe.” He helped her step into her vehicle before he closed her door and watched her leave before pulling out his phone to make a call.

“Yeah she just left..keep close to the plan and do exactly what I told y’all to do. I find out you niggas did anything other than what I asked…yall are finished.” He hung up the phone and hopped into his car heading to his house. He knew what he was doing was fucked up, but rarely did Terry ever not get what he wanted. Only this time he wanted Marina Evans and he was willing to stage whatever freak incident he could think of to appear as the white shining knight in her story.

The contemporary home was a perfect mix of neutral earth times and dark greys. Features within the home had donned it with eco friendly and smart house features putting it at a price point of a whopping 1.2 million dollars. A price point Terry would pay and then some for a house that was exclusive to him. The story he told the public about his upbringing was slightly altered and fabricated. The money was only halfway clean, but his appearance needed to be crystal. No past offenses or charges, no run-ins with the police, and no witnesses.

He put people in the dirt for a living and that was just the true facts. The true underground king with an empire spanning throughout the states.A dr. Jekyll and Hyde if you will. The boogeyman. An assassin with the precision to kil. Right now his cousins were ransacking the cute little craftsman style house that belonged to Marina Evans. A sick way of pushing her into his arms he knew but having her would make it all worth the risk.

A new obsession had squirmed its way into Terrys head one night during a masturbation session. The video practically screamed out at him and he had nutted enough that night to fill the Mississippi River; twice,his eyes were glued to the computer screen as he watched the younger woman be pumped full of grown mature dick. The idea had crossed his mind plenty of times, something young and hot to trick on and fuck whenever he wanted to. It seemed maybe he’d be getting his wish sooner or later.

Paranoia and fear gripped Marina in the coming days after the charity ball. When she had made it home and into her driveway that night she knew something was off. The linen curtains that lined her French doors to her kitchen blew in the night winds, signaling the doors had been smashed. Eyes wide with fear and shock she held her hand over her mouth in disbelief. She frantically dialed 911 to report a burglary. Her house was a mess, picture frames broken and everything rummaged through. The following nights she spent in the guest room at her moms house, too afraid to sleep in her own house.

She had called into the local newspaper that she worked for letting them know of her unfortunate situation. Work would have to be put on the back burner for a few days right along with her podcast episode. She was still practically new to this neighborhood having only just closed on her home two months prior. It was a quiet safe neighborhood, and all her neighbors had kindly welcomed her into it. But now she wasn’t so sure about it being safe. What if she had been home When this happened, would she have lived to tell the tale?

She felt hopeless and the police had no leads yet. What was life without a curveball? She was currently wrapped up in her mothers guest room

sick with the flu. Coughs and sniffles were the soundtrack of life right now and the pungent smell of Lysol was in the air. She had no appetite and a slight migraine sat at her temples, and yet her phone began to ring excessively loud into her ear.

|“Hello?” She was sure she sounded as stuffy as she looked.

|”Marina..hey sweetheart it’s Terry. I called as soon as I heard the bad news, I’m so sorry.” His deep voice sounded apologetic over the phone and she had almost forgotten the exchanging of numbers almost a week ago at the charity event.

[-My uncle works at the police department..he mentioned your name and burglary in the same sentence and I just had to call and check in on you. I hope I’m not overstepping.

[-No not at all I appreciate you calling me..um yeah it hasn't been the best week for me so far it’d be better if I could find out who did this to my house…and now I’m sick with the flu.She heard shuffling and muffled talking on his end and she sat up further on the headboard of the bed.

[-Let me send you something Marina, a little get well soon basket…if that’s okay with you I can have my assistant drop it to you. Marina pondered a bit, and honestly what was the harm in accepting it?

[-I don’t know Terry, I couldn’t ask you to do that. One day you'll have to let me repay you back for your kindness.

[-I insist, and pay me back in good health.. and let me take you out some time when you’re feeling better. Some time had lapsed and he had seriously caught her off guard with the question.

[-Marina? You don’t have to give me an answer right now… my ego can handle it, trust me.

[-Sometime when I’m better definitely, I’m completely in the dumps right now..but I could definitely use that basket if it’s still on the table.

[-It is..I’ll get my assistant to contact you and get everything delivered to you. Get well Marina I’ll talk to you soon.

The call ended and she finally felt some strength in her to get up and tend to herself. Her braids had been in her bonnet for the last 48 hours and her face looked drained of all her color. She definitely wasn’t in any shape to look Terry’s handsome ass in his face. Her moms house was quiet, and she knew her mother wouldn’t be home from the hospital until 7 that evening so trying to get better was definitely the plan for the next few hours.

As he said, Terry had his assistant message her about her location to send the basket. It arrived well packaged with an aroma that was clearing her nasal passage. Two dozen crimson red roses and a large woven basket was on the front porch waiting for her in less than an hour. She hurriedly sat it on her mothers dining table and pulled the contents from the basket. Each item she was excited to use. Multiple face masks to bring back the color to her face, an expensive looking full body massager, a cozy pajama set, and a container of chicken noodle soup that was still piping hot from the deli uptown.

“How freaking sweet, now these are gifts worth having for sure.”

She sent a picture over to Terry letting him know that everything was revived with the highest appreciation. He hearted her message but didn’t send back a written reply.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay out my fucking city?!” Terry let his bloodied fist fly into the man’s face for a third time, he winced and shook his hand quickly before his phone vibrated in his pocket. A picture from Marina showing him the basket had made it to her and would be used gratefully. But she'd have to wait. Terry was in his mode. The kill a nigga and ask questions later mode, he had two run ins prior to this one with the same pesky ass excuse for a human being.

“Pass me my shit, I’m ending this. Motherfuckers need to know that I don’t speak twice.” The heavy gun was laid in his hand and he screwed on the silencer. The man in front of him cried and begged for his life, but time was out for him.

“Mario Brown…I’m sentencing you to death for not obeying the nigga that owns you.” A quick pull of the trigger put a silver bullet right through his head. His crew needed no words as they immediately rolled the body into a tarp to be burned.

Terry shrugged off his suit using it to wipe the blood from his face and neck. He had a warehouse stacked to the brim with cocaine that needed to make it to El Paso, Texas. Terry wasn’t a cliche in the world of drugs, he chose the mafia life willingly; it didn’t choose him. It was all he knew and it was all he’s ever done outside of his coverups, that consisted of real estate and stocks. All three things he needed to know the ins and outs of to keep up the facade. He was no good person and he was no angel. He maneuvered through this life cunning and forcefully, and yet he did so with grace.

Drugs had afforded him the type of access he wanted in life. A payroll full of law enforcement, cars and houses, and the baddest bitches on the continent. But he was getting older and more irritable with it all, and that was bad for business. A man that stayed irritated was a man bad for business, he had stacked and put so much money away his grandchildren’s grandchildren would be rich. And yet having all he had he still longed for a woman to call his, someone to marry and give his last name and kids too. Marina Evans was what he wanted-no needed, and he would pull out any stop to have her.

His clothes would be a pile of ash by the time he finished using the warehouse shower, black and purple bruises littering his back and side from a recent brawl with a new business partner who would ultimately be his way out. He didn’t believe the old heads that told him he only had one way out of this kinda life, he refused to put that shit on himself. Death was not the only way out, past men just didn’t have his sharp mindset and it showed because they all rested eternally in cemeteries.

His matte black Range Rover practically drove itself home. He was worn out and needed food and sleep. Public speakings to keep the wool over the public’s eye and the night time escapades that always ended in a dead body or two lying around, were getting the best of him. For the next month he planned to pull back from the public slowly but surely, only popping out to speak when absolutely necessary. The only person he cared to be around was her. What a fucking joke. Terry knew better about this situation and still refused to do better, he wanted what he wanted. Marina… Just the sound of her name rolling off his tongue enticed him and his dick had jumped multiple times in his pants when she complimented him at the ball.

A pretty lil thing with a good head on her shoulders and outside of wanting to put her through his mattress he was actually genuinely intrigued by her. And when he finally laid down it was her pictures and voice that invaded his privacy so badly he stalked all her socials. Her vibrant colorful pictures on her Instagram page pulled a smile from him, such an interesting girl.

The next morning came to Terry in peace. No nightmares and no tossing and turning, he felt well rested above all else and the pain he felt from his bruised body had subsided and drowned out without painkillers. His morning routine came effortlessly and he ended it all with a 30 minute meditation to thoroughly decompress his body to prepare for his day.

He scarfed down a savory bagel sandwich and washed it down with his herbal tea. His agenda for the day was light as planned, he was to be kept updated on the whereabouts of his drugs every hour on the hour and not a second late. A large sum of money was headed his way if shit went smoothly.

His fingers itched to message Marina; so he did. He wanted another try at seeing her. To his surprise she had responded quickly and said she was feeling well enough to meet at her house. She spoke of wanting to replace the broken glass on her French doors so he dressed casually and responded letting her know he’d see her shortly.

His Ford Raptor rounded the block into a cute quaint neighborhood. Children rode their bikes and sprayed each other with water hoses as their parents watched, and the background noise of barking dogs made it all full circle. He spotted Marina’s suv quickly and pulled in alongside it in her driveway. Getting out he noticed her still sitting inside and tapped on her window lightly.

“Hi Terry… I know I look weird still sitting in here. I’m just scared to go alone.” She gave him a bashful smile and opened her driver side door. Black biker shorts showing off her thick thighs and plush lower half, had him shaking his head. A Tupac graphic tee shirt and white sneakers completed her looks and her neat braids rested atop her head in a tight bun.

“Come on I’ll go with you, nobody will mess with you while I’m here I promise.” She obliged and walked side by side with him to the side of her house where the doors were. Terry measured where the glass was supposed to be and got the measurements for replacements and let the tape measure shoot back into itself before turning to Marina.

“I have a guy that does this kind of work. I'll get in contact with him for you. No cost to you, but for now I’d say invest in security cameras…they’ll bring you a good peace of mind.”

“Will do, that’s not even out of the question anymore… thank you for extending this kind of generosity to me.”

A smirk graced his face as he stared down at her, hands itching to touch her. “Let’s get lunch and you can thank me all you want afterwards.” He helped her up into his truck with a hand on her waist, green eyes going wide at her ass in his face, and on his way around the truck he was silently praying to god.

She was definitely chatty when she got comfortable, but he didn’t mind listening. They filled their bellies with Korean bbq and sushi and Terry was still ordering appetizers.

“Please no more, are you trying to stuff me?” In more ways than one he thought to himself, he just loved watching her eat. When she tried something new amongst the appetizers she hit a little happy dance if she liked it. They had ate their fill in food with plenty to bring home, Terry paid the bill and carried their Togo bags and she kept up beside him sipping quietly on her lychee tea. His phone buzzed in the console a few times and he ignored it knowing it was about his shipment, he would get to it when she was no longer around.

“Do you need to get that… am I intruding or something? You can let me know, I’m sure you’re practically booked and busy. Please don’t let me hold you up.”

“They can wait, you’re more important right now.” She turned slightly in her seat and her cognac eyes held his for what felt like hours. And she leaned closer into his space, holding that eye contact.

“You have the most beautiful eyes… they just seem never ending.” His stare intensified and he watched her smile dreamily at him, whatever effect he thought he had on her had been confirmed.

“You keep complimenting me like that and I’ll start to think you got a little crush on me Ms.Evans.”

“Would that be so bad…me liking you?” He shook his head and tucked a braid back into her bun fingers slowly grazing her neck. How bold of her,

“Only if I didn’t like you back.” He smirked and rubbed his fingers against her open palm watching her fingers twitch slightly. “You’re an amazing woman Marina… I’ve been interested in you for a while, but things just didn’t make sense then.” He thought back to a few months ago when he had initially intended on meeting her but he was busy trying to wipe a whole bloodline out at the time and that was time consuming.

Her eyes danced around his face as she listened to him intently, and his right hand rose to her chin to focus them, letting her lean into him to initiate a kiss. But she put her hands up pulled back slowly.

“But Terry what if-“

“Shh.. put your hands down and let it happen, let me in.”

His hands found her face and he pressed his lips to hers in a rush. Her tongue tasted sweet from her drink and the strawberry flavored lip gloss had him sucking her lips into his mouth like a savage. She gripped his shirt and he pulled her into him with a hand on her waist hand rubbing along her back soothingly, chest to chest heads turning left to right to increase the experience. He pulled away from her reluctantly and brought a hand to his lips to kiss.

“Give me a chance to court you and prove myself…if you don’t like what I offer you, then that’ll be it and I won’t bother you again, but if you do..I have so much to show you.”

“A deal is a deal Mr.Richmond..let the games begin.”

A/N: The girls called for Mafia!Terry??? HERE HE GO😗. Like and reblog if you enjoyed this🫶🏾

@venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @starcrossedxwriter @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @blackmoonchilee @invisiblegiurl @blackerthings @19jammmy @ovohanna24 @talkswithdesi @notc0rtez @becauseimswagman1 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @mysteryuz

#terry richmond #aaron pierre #terry richmond x blackoc #rebrl ridge

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 day ago

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Angst Villain x civilian where the villain cheats on civilian with hero

“If it is of any comfort, it didn’t mean that much to me." The villain cocked their head, as if they were thinking about something intensively - which they weren't. They looked at the civilian, but failed to conjure any pity.

Their partner, well, probably ex-partner now, looked at them with wide eyes and tears rolling down their cheeks.

"I-" The civilian's hands were shaking, their face contorted in pain. "What did I- what did I do wrong?"

Their voice was shaking.

"Nothing."

"I..." The civilian took in a deep breath. "Oh god..."

They gasped for air desperately but the villain couldn't help but think about the hero in their bed, moaning lovingly. It was true that the civilian hadn't done anything wrong. They were quite good company to keep around. They were tidy (which was very important to the villain), they were nice, avoided conflict, didn't ask too many questions. The perfect kind of person to keep around, someone who wasn't getting involved in the villain's business.

But when it came to pure desire, the hero was simply more tempting. It was about power.

The civilian wasn't a challenge in bed.

The hero on the other hand...

"Oh god...I can't-" The civilian gasped for air over and over again, coming very close to mimicking a panic attack.

"I can move out if you want, or you do. Whatever you like."

"I wanted to marry you, I - I love you, I..." The villain raised a lazy brow.

"We can still get married if you want to, but I'd like to screw the hero every now and then," the villain said. The civilian turned away, but the villain could obviously tell that they were crying harder now. They would have never brought this up, but unfortunately, the villain had gotten a bit lazy and the civilian had found out about the affair.

It wasn't the end of the world, but the villain had planned to keep the civilian around for a little longer. More than once, they had thought about proposing to the civilian out of pure necessity, but the amount of work linked to that, had spoiled the idea quickly.

"You don't have to decide now," the villain clarified. "It's an option, that's all."

The civilian's back was still turned towards them.

"I had so many plans for us," they whispered, almost mumbled the words. "What did I do wrong, why are you doing this to me...?"

The villain rolled their eyes.

"Like I said, it didn't mean that much to me. They're attractive. They showed up at my work. We fucked on the desk and started to meet regularly." A lot of lies. Technically, they had been flirting with each other for the last year. "Work" meant their usual nightly activities. The thing with the desk was true, though.

The civilian turned around, eyes bloodshot.

"Did they force you? Because they're the hero?" The villain pursed their lips. Interesting. It was probably pretty easy to turn themselves into a victim in this situation (the civilian was by no means rational right now), but they had already admitted that they wanted to meet the hero in the future, so keeping up with that lie was going to be exhausting.

"No," the villain said. "Their ass just looked great that night."

"I don't understand, I thought you loved me?! We've been together for three years..." The civilian wiped away their tears but new tears followed and followed.

"...I like your company, yes."

"That's it?"

Once again, the villain cocked their head, staring at the civilian.

"Come on. A hero. The hero. Who can say no to that? It's a sexual thing. Has absolutely nothing to do with you. You're great." They shrugged. "Stay here. Get some sleep. We can talk about the rest tomorrow."

The civilian stood there, didn't dare to move.

"My love, you must be exhausted."

The civilian took in a deep breath. They nodded.

"There we go," the villain said softly. "You look lovely right now, by the way."

It wasn't that the villain liked being cruel - they just couldn't help it.

#absolutely SMASH the like button to punch this villain in the throat #writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #request #an answer for an ask #villain x civilian #angst

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capseycartwright · 1 day ago

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see the lights, and hang the stockings

Eddie finds out that Buck has never ever had a Christmas stocking of his own. He's very determined to change that and share a few Diaz family traditions.

ao3 link

for week three of @winterofbuddie - holiday history.

Eddie knew he was inclined to go a little overboard at Christmastime. It was his favourite holiday, and he’d inadvertently (and very happily, might he add) made it Christopher’s favourite holiday too, their house always filled to the brim with decorations, Christmas music playing on a loop as soon as Thanksgiving was over, and he and Christopher agreed it was socially acceptable to dive right into the Christmas of it all.

Eddie loved Christmas, was the point, and even now, when Christopher was a relatively grumpy teenager, so did his son, Christopher happy to spend one of his precious Saturday evenings decorating the tree with Eddie, and Buck, instead of hanging out with his friends.

Well, to a point.

They’d gotten the tree decorated before Christopher had sneaked off to his bedroom, the chatter of his teenager calling his friends comforting background noise as he and Buck carried on the decorating duties. There had been a time where Eddie had worried he’d never have a house filled with the noise of Christopher simply living his life again, and so he was grateful for it - even when he’d hear Christopher up chatting far too late, his bedtime long past.

Eddie only got to have his kid be a kid for so long, and he’d lived through a dark few months where he hadn’t gotten to have his son around at all - so, he could be forgiven for being a little lenient with him sometimes.

“Mulled wine,” Buck hummed by way of explanation, pressing a mug into Eddie’s waiting hands. Eddie liked getting to do this, decorate, with Buck. Buck was his best friend in the whole world, and Eddie had done enough work unpicking a lifetime of repression to know that his feelings for Buck went a bit further than solely platonic, but even putting the whole, being in love with him, thing aside, Eddie just loved to spend time with the other man.

“Thank you,” Eddie hummed, inhaling the comforting smell of spices, the aroma of mulled wine sinking into every inch of Eddie’s house. Christmas baking would join the party soon, he knew, because Buck was determined to make all of their nearest and dearest cookie boxes this year, like he’d seen on TikTok, and Eddie knew that his kitchen would be the stage of choice when Buck committed to executing his twelve-point plan for perfecting cookie gifts.

“I think it needs more cardamon,” Buck admitted, a tiny frown furrowing the space between his eyebrows. Eddie sort of always wanted to kiss it.

“It’s perfect,” Eddie disagreed, taking another sip of his drink. “You make the best mulled wine.”

An adorable flush appeared on Buck’s cheeks. Just another thing Eddie wanted to kiss. “You’re an unreliable reviewer,” he shook his head. “You like everything I make. I can never tell what’s really good, and what’s just okay, because you tell me everything is good.”

Eddie grinned, setting his mug on the fireplace. “That’s because I think everything is good,” he shrugged. It wasn’t a lie. Buck was a fantastic cook, and a great baker, and Eddie’s house was ground zero for many delicious experiments - the cheesy, twisty garlic bread Buck had made for their Italian themed family dinner had been a recent highlight. Buck’s sourdough starter even lived in Eddie’s fridge, not his own, for crying out loud.

Pressing play on his carefully curated Christmas playlist, the sound of Wham! and Last Christmas filling the living room, Eddie passed Buck a snowglobe, his best friend indulging and setting it down on the coffee table, where it always lived. It was a cheap, silly thing that Eddie had bought the first Christmas he’d been out of the army, from the Dollar General, but it held so much sentimental memory now, Eddie didn’t have the heart to throw it out. Buck had bought them a beautiful snowglobe a few years previously, from a small business based on the Northern Californian coast, and that was pride of place on the fireplace, but the cheap one still had a home - different eras of Eddie’s life all coming together here, in LA, in the first place he’d really chosen for himself.

“I love your decorations,” Buck hummed, careful fingers tracing the lettering on one of the tree decorations - it was an imprint of Christopher’s tiny baby hand, the black writing announcing to the world that it had been his very first Christmas. “They all have so much meaning.”

Eddie hummed. “You know me,” he joked. “I’m a sentimental old fool.”

“No - it’s good. Great, even,” Buck paused, for a minute. “My parents' Christmas tree had a colour scheme, growing up. There were no sentimental ornaments - only these picture perfect gold and red baubles. I broke one - I think I was seven, or eight - and my mom yelled at me for so long that it made me cry. She said they didn’t make the ornaments anymore, so she’d have to change them all now, because of me. I didn’t think she had meant it, but the next year, she’d thrown out all the red and gold, and we had green and silver.”

Eddie knew that Buck had grown up with emotionally neglectful parents, but sometimes, in moments like this, when Buck made an admission about the reality of his childhood, it really struck him how bad it must have been for Buck, growing up - how lonely, and sad, he must have been. It was amazing, really, how Buck turned out to be so kind, and wonderful, given the house he grew up in. How Buck was still Buck, despite everything he’d been through. “Buck, I…”

“I’m sorry,” Buck shrugged it off, like he always did. Buck never wanted to burden other people, and sometimes it made Eddie want to yell, and scream - it made him want to beg Buck to burden him with every thought and feeling he had. Eddie wanted to be there for him - he wanted to know what Buck had for breakfast every morning, and what he thought came in the afterlife, and everything in between. “I don’t know why I said that. Tonight’s meant to be happy, and here I am, making it all about me.”

read the rest on ao3

#911 abc #911 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #winterofbuddie #eddie fixing bucks childhood is something that is so personal to me

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nights-nonsensical-ramblings · 13 hours ago

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Ahhh thank U hope the day is good!

right back at ya @aphantimes 💖. Got great art, makes me think about paper craft and your concept sketches do so well at conveying emotion and the feel of the scene, you got really goodbrain thoughts and I Love vibing with you. Very cool person.

@charleecat-bat you’re also getting a tag from me cuz you’re so cool. I adore your aus, their art and all the thought put into them. It’s been a lot of fun throwing things back and forth with you. You always give so much care to all the characters

@mama-qwerty you have super good character analysis takes and do really great hit with the angst then heal with the wholesome. And you’ve helped me many times this year so big thank you for that. And I’ve seen you give wonderful kind advice for your anons to.

@quazart you have a super cute and huggable art and you have such creative designs. You do such a good job at scenes with lots of characters and things going on and it’s still so clear and able to pick out so many details.

@mcfanely I’ve had so much fun talking and coming up with ideas with you. You’ve got such a great energy and i wanna thank you for helping to create the server that lead to me meeting and getting to know so many of these amazing people.

@acespeon you’re another person I’m always very happy to seen in my notes. You’ve been really great to interact with and I’ll be happy to chat whenever.

@guardian-of-da-gay yet another really cool writer/artist. (Amazing job on how much you got out during whumptober btw. Really impressive feat.)

@mushroomflood you to are an amazing artist! You make the characters look so sweet and vibrant. (And the same brain moments always give me a smile)

@sayurime I love chatting to you too! I really like so many of the concepts you come up with and chatting about them to.

@rapidhighway i must say I love the stuff you got going with licho and knuckles, super great dynamic there.

@heckinconfusedparade we may not have chatted in a bit but I still think of you with so much fondness

ands there’s plenty of people I see popping up again and again in my notes that make me go “oh hey it’s you :D” i appreciate your presences and makes me smile when I’ve seen you go through and like/reblog a bunch of my posts.

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

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archivequinn · 3 days ago

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I loved your breaking up angst fic! Can I request an angst with a happy ending fic.

Eddie and Reader get into an argument and he does a really sweet gesture to make up for it.

I love your fics and always look forward to reading them when they pop up on my dashboard 🥰

Hello lovely! I hope your day is going very well. Your kind words make me very happy and I'm glad you like my fic. I wish I was able to write a fic like you wanted and I hope you enjoy reading it. I look forward to your comments. 🩷

Summary: Eddie forgets about your anniversary and makes up the night for you after you argue with him. angst to happy ending, fluff.

credit for dividers: @saradika-graphics

While waiting for Eddie to come home, you excitedly rolled up your sleeves to prepare for a day that would make him feel how special it was to you. Since the morning, there had been only one thought on your mind: celebrating your anniversary perfectly. You decided to prepare everything with both great care and love to make it flawless.

First, you headed to the kitchen. You thought about Eddie's favorite dishes: maybe the creamy pasta he's loved since childhood, or that amazing dessert you both recently discovered together. You took out the ingredients from the fridge and carefully began the preparations. As the clinking sounds of pots and pans filled the kitchen, you imagined how the evening would unfold. Once the food was ready, you elegantly plated it—creating a meal Eddie could never say no to.

Afterward, you moved on to setting the dinner table. You chose a soft champagne-colored tablecloth, something both romantic and elegant. On top, you placed tall white candles. When the idea of decorating the candles with red rose petals crossed your mind, a sweet sparkle lit up in your eyes. Once the petals were scattered across the table, it transformed into a work of art. The plates and silverware were meticulously arranged—every detail thoughtfully designed so Eddie would notice how much effort you'd put into this.

Next, it was time to get yourself ready. You picked that stunning dress—the one you were sure Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of every time he saw you wearing it. A long, elegant gown... perhaps black satin or one with lace details in a deep burgundy—whatever you chose, you felt incredible in it. As the dress brushed lightly against the floor, you twirled in front of the mirror and smiled at your reflection.

You began applying your makeup. A subtle eyeliner to highlight your eyes, a warm pink blush on your cheeks, and that favorite lipstick you loved. Once your makeup was finished, the mirror didn't just reflect your image; it showed someone who would absolutely take Eddie’s breath away. You styled your hair the way Eddie always adored: maybe natural waves or an elegant updo—whichever you chose, you felt absolutely beautiful at that moment.

For the background music, you put on the playlist you and Eddie had created together. Your favorite songs as a couple brought back happy memories one by one. The metal riffs resonated with the energy Eddie always brought whenever he picked up his guitar. But the playlist also had one or two slow, romantic songs Eddie had sneakily added as a surprise for you. Remembering how Eddie had thought of you while making this playlist brought an uncontrollable smile to your face.

When everything was finally ready, you gave the living room one last glance. The table glowed in the candlelight, soft music played in the background, and the delicious aroma of food filled the air. And of course, there was you—prepared and brimming with excitement for this special moment. Thinking about the expression on Eddie’s face as he walked through the door helped calm your nerves just a little.

The hours ticked by, and Eddie’s arrival was drawing closer. Everything was set, and now all that was left was to wait for him. Before greeting him, you took a few deep breaths and checked your reflection in the mirror one last time. Tonight had to be unforgettable.

Hours had passed. At first, you eagerly waited for the moment Eddie would walk through the door, but over time, anticipation slowly turned into despair. You had meticulously prepared the meal, elegantly decorated the table, and considered every detail, yet Eddie was nowhere to be found. Your phone remained silent; no messages, no explanations. It silently tore at you.

Initially, you tried to console yourself. "Maybe he’s stuck in traffic," you thought. "Maybe work ran late, but he’ll definitely come." However, as the hours dragged on, disappointment began to set in. You were hungry but kept waiting for Eddie. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold out. Finally, letting go of your dream of sitting down and sharing the meal with him, you reached for the food on the table. The first bite felt like a lump stuck in your throat; this was a meal you were eating alone. The candles in the center of the table were still burning, but instead of a romantic ambiance, the flickering light filled the room with a melancholy loneliness.

When the meal was over, your hand reached for the wine bottle. "I’ll have a glass or two; it’ll help me relax," you thought. With the first sip, memories of clinking glasses with Eddie flashed before your eyes. Glass after glass, the wine bottle on the table was soon halfway empty.

The makeup on your face started to feel like a burden weighing on you. You hurried to the mirror and wiped it off. Staring at your bare face in the mirror, you noticed the disappointment etched into your eyes. The hair you had styled so carefully just hours ago was now disheveled, and your spirit was completely drained.

Now, you sat alone at the head of the table. Your eyes grew heavy with fatigue, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to give up waiting. "Maybe the door will open any moment now," you thought. Resting your head on the table, everything began to blur like a dream under the dim, flickering candlelight. The wine’s slight haze made your eyelids grow heavier.

At that moment, the lock on the door turned. Eddie stepped inside with his key, noticing the smell of wine that filled the room and the candles nearly burned out. As he took a step into the room, he saw the remains of the meal on the table, the wine bottle nearly empty, and you, with your head resting on the table, dozing off. His eyes scanned the details on the table in surprise: the elegant arrangement, the rose petals, the half-melted candles, and you sitting there in silence. Eddie’s expression changed rapidly—surprise, guilt, and a hint of panic flickered across his face.

He stepped quietly, trying not to disturb you, and approached you cautiously. "Sweetheart…?" he called softly, but as he saw your eyes fluttering open, he crouched down beside your chair. "What happened here? Are you… are you okay?" he asked, looking at you with concern.

You brought your hands to your face and groaned lightly, still groggy from sleep. For a brief moment, Eddie’s puzzled expression mingled with your own. But as the depth of your sadness and disappointment resurfaced in your mind, you let out a deep, sorrowful breath. "Why were you so late?" you murmured, your voice slightly cracked, tinged with a trace of reproach.

Eddie’s face grew more serious. "I’m sorry… work ran late, and I lost track of time," he explained, raising his hands in helplessness. "But… what’s all this? The table? The candles? What’s it for?"

Seeing how unaware he was only amplified the depth of your disappointment. You fixed your eyes on him, but for a while, no words came out. Eddie could sense that there was a storm brewing beneath your silence. "What’s wrong? Please, tell me," he said, more insistently this time, but still in a gentle tone.

Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke the truth. "Today was our anniversary, Eddie," you said, the words feeling as if they were stuck in your throat. "And you forgot." Your voice was calm, but the hurt it carried was enough to devastate Eddie. His eyes widened, his hands trembled for a moment, and deep regret etched itself onto his face.

“Oh… no,” he whispered, rubbing his forehead with one hand. When he raised his eyes from the table back to you, it seemed as though he finally understood all your preparations, your effort, and ultimately, your broken heart.

"Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I forgot… no, how could I forget something like this?" he muttered, his voice cracking. But you turned your head away, avoiding his gaze.

Eddie stood before you, his face filled with remorse. Meanwhile, you avoided his eyes with a look that was both hurt and a little angry. You glanced briefly at the melted candles on the table, the empty wine bottle, and the darkened plates, then turned back to Eddie. As you tried to suppress your disappointment, his guilt-ridden expression only hurt you more.

"How could you forget something like this, Eddie?" you said, your tone now unrestrained in its hurt. "I mean… our anniversary… It was something special. And you..." You had done everything for him, planned the entire evening, but he… he had forgotten. This reality made you feel worthless.

Eddie took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair as if trying to straighten his thoughts. "I know, you’re right. But work has been so busy, and I lost track of time. I could have called, yes. But—" he began, but you raised a hand to stop him.

"You lost track of time?" you snapped, your brows furrowed. "I planned the entire day, hour by hour. I set up the table, cooked the food, played your favorite playlist. But what did you do? You just showed up late. You didn’t even call to let me know." Tears began to well up in your eyes, but you didn’t want to appear weak in front of Eddie. So, you quickly wiped them away and took a deep breath.

Eddie spread his hands, his voice filled with regret but also tinged with helplessness. "Sweetheart, I didn’t realize how important this was. If I had known—"

"If you had known?" you interjected, your voice rising. Eddie, with his usual calm demeanor, tried to absorb your anger, but that only made you more furious. "Eddie, this is our anniversary! How many times did we talk about it? How many times did you say, ‘Let’s go all out this year’? And what happened?" By the time you finished your sentence, you were nearly out of breath.

Eddie lowered his head, his gaze falling to the floor. It was a gesture he always made when he felt guilty. But instead of calming you, it only fueled your frustration. "Yes, I forgot," he finally said, his tone quiet and subdued. "And it’s entirely my fault. But… please, try to understand. Work… my mind has been all over the place. There’s just been so much going on..."

"There’s always an excuse, isn’t there?" you said, getting up abruptly and pacing around the table. Eddie flinched slightly at your movement. "Eddie, just one day, just a few hours—was it so hard for me to be your top priority? Was it so impossible to set your work aside and put me first?"

Eddie’s eyes softened as he heard the slight tremor in your voice, but you were too angry to notice just yet. "I… I let you down, I know. But I don’t want to make you feel unimportant. Because to me, you’re… everything," he said. However, his words weren’t enough to soothe you in that moment.

"Yes, Eddie, and the person you call your 'everything' was left alone on an anniversary," you retorted. "How ironic, isn’t it?" Your eyes filled with tears again, but this time, you chose to stay silent, not wanting to say anything you might regret. You sat back down and moved away from Eddie as he tried to reach for you.

Eddie took a deep breath and nodded slightly. "Look, you’re right. You’re completely right. But please, give me a chance. I’ll make it up to you tonight. Just hear me out."

Eddie stepped closer. "I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t stand seeing you this upset," he said, placing his hands gently near yours.

In that moment, beneath your hurt, you still felt the love you had for Eddie. But you weren’t ready to show it to him just yet. "Let’s see what you’ll do, Eddie Munson," you murmured. "It’s going to take a real miracle to make up for tonight."

Eddie tried to smile, but the guilt was still evident on his face. "I’ll make that miracle happen," he said with determination.

He paused for a moment, and a familiar mischievous smile appeared on his face. As you raised an eyebrow and looked at him skeptically, Eddie had already started heading toward the kitchen.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" you asked, following after him. But he was already in the middle of the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and opening and closing the fridge. When you saw a plate of chocolate, some flour, and milk on the counter, your eyebrows arched even higher.

"I’m going to make something for you with my own hands. How about some chocolate pancakes?" he said, a hopeful expression in his eyes. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "Chocolate pancakes at midnight? Eddie, seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring your smile back," he said as he started organizing the kitchen like a professional chef. You watched him, trying to keep the serious expression on your face, but Eddie’s clumsiness was mildly amusing. When a bit of flour ended up in his hair, you struggled to suppress a small smile.

As Eddie mixed the ingredients, your playlist continued playing in the background. When one of your favorite songs came on, Eddie stopped stirring and turned to you. "Okay, wait, isn’t this our song?" he said excitedly, extending a hand toward you.

"What are you doing, Eddie?" you asked, trying to maintain your stern expression.

"There’s a way to make this better," he said, taking your hand. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, my lady? Let’s make the rest of this night a little brighter." "Eddie, weren’t you making pancakes?" you asked, but he had already pulled you into the middle of the kitchen. As the song continued to play, Eddie’s warm hands found their way around your waist. "A quick break, then the pancakes will be ready," he whispered, spinning you gently.

At first, you hesitated, but you couldn’t resist the affectionate look on Eddie’s face. Even the creaking sound of the old wooden floor beneath your feet as you moved to the rhythm somehow became endearing. "You can’t win me over that easily," you murmured, but the way Eddie held you close softened your heart.

As the final notes of the song played, Eddie rested his forehead against yours. In his eyes, you saw a mix of regret and love. "I’ll do better for you. I promise," he said softly.

In that moment, you felt that Eddie was truly trying, that he genuinely wanted to make things right. The anger within you started to melt away, though you weren’t ready to forgive him just yet. "If the pancakes are good, maybe I’ll consider it," you said with a small smile. Eddie immediately dashed back to the kitchen, grabbing the mixing bowl.

Five minutes later, Eddie returned to the table with a plate in hand. The pancakes weren’t exactly masterpieces—they were a bit uneven and slightly overcooked—but the chocolate sauce he had drizzled on top made them look sweet enough. As you sat down, you took the fork he offered you.

"This is the best I can do for now, but next time, I’ll whip up something worthy of a pastry chef. Promise," he said, watching intently as you took your first bite. Eddie’s eyes stayed on you, his expression a mix of nervousness and hope.

"They’re not bad," you said, taking another bite. Eddie exhaled deeply and burst out laughing. "Not bad? That’s the highest compliment I’ve ever received!"

As you chuckled lightly, Eddie walked around the table to sit beside you. "Seeing you smile like this… it’s worth the world to me," he said, taking a bite of his own pancake.

The night began to feel normal again. When Eddie offered his hand, you hesitated at first but then took it with a faint smile. "Eddie, you really are the most stubborn and sweetest man in the world, you know that, don’t you?" you said. Eddie winked and pulled you back toward the living room.

Another song started playing from the playlist in the background—this one from the first night you two had danced together. Eddie gave you his signature mischievous look and gently pulled you closer.

"This song," he whispered, "reminds me of you. Every time I hear it, I think of that first night on the dance floor. You, in that red dress… and me, with too much hairspray and maybe a little drunk…"

You chuckled softly at his words. “Don’t be so hard on yourself; you were amazing that night,” you said. Eddie spun you gently and pulled you back into his arms, his eyes locked on yours.

“Every night is amazing if it ends with you,” he added.

As you danced, Eddie’s hands moved from your waist to your back, drawing you closer to him. The intimacy of the moment slowly erased the tension left by your earlier argument. Near the end of the song, Eddie twirled you one last time but, instead of ending the dance, he did something unexpected: he took your hands and started leading you toward the front door.

“Eddie, where are we going?” you asked, your voice laced with both surprise and curiosity.

“Surprise,” was all he said, that familiar mischievous glint lighting up his eyes. Before you could press him for more answers, he grabbed your coat and handed it to you, grabbing his own jacket before opening the door.

The cold night air brushed against your face, making you instinctively move closer to Eddie for warmth. “Seriously, Eddie, where are we going at midnight?” you asked again. He just smiled, guiding you toward his van.

Soon, you were driving down a quiet road leading out of Hawkins. Eddie kept glancing at you with a playful smile, his hand occasionally tapping the steering wheel in time with the music. He’d restarted the playlist, making sure one of your favorite songs was playing to fill the silence.

Finally, he stopped the van near a small hillside. From there, the lights of Hawkins twinkled faintly in the distance like scattered stars. Eddie hopped out of the van, pulling a blanket from the back. Then, coming around to your side, he opened your door and held out his hand.

“This place…” you began, but Eddie interrupted immediately.

“Just wait, okay? Everything’s almost ready.” He spread the blanket on the ground and guided you to sit on it before returning to the van to grab a thermos and some snacks. Sitting down beside you, he handed you the thermos and gestured toward the view of the town below.

“So, this might not be a grand anniversary gift,” he said, a touch of nervousness in his voice. “But this place is special to me because, no matter how much I want to get out of this town, there’s always one thing keeping me here. You. And I might have forgotten about tonight, but I could never forget you.”

His words made your eyes glisten with unshed tears. As always, Eddie’s sweet and heartfelt way of expressing himself struck a chord deep within you.

“And also,” he continued, pulling a small box from his back pocket, “I thought this might help make up for it. It’s small, but it’s meaningful. I actually got it a while ago…”

When he opened the box, inside was a necklace that was unmistakably Eddie’s style. The chain was delicate but stylish, with a small guitar charm hanging from it.

“This represents us,” Eddie said as he carefully fastened the necklace around your neck. “Every note is you and me.”

Your eyes shifted from the necklace to Eddie. “You’re really going all out to make up for this, aren’t you?” you said with a smile.

Eddie nodded and whispered, “Because you’re worth it.” Under the lights of Hawkins, you stood beside Eddie, and the argument had melted into a warm harmony. “I think I can forgive you,” you finally said, resting your head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie pulled you into a tight hug and chuckled softly. “I knew it.” The night ended under the stars, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket and the peace Eddie brought to your heart.

taglist: @t-folklore13 @nicholaschavezslut69 @multyfangirl

#eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #angst to fluff #angst to comfort

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directdogman · 3 hours ago

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Dialtown is the most USA-core game I've ever played. It's so fucking American that it's scary, and I've lived there my entire life! Like, this feels fundamentally tied with the game's themes and narrative, that's how extreme it is. And it's not even alienating OR nationalist?? It makes such genuine commentary? And then there's so much other shit to think about too; Dialtown has a very real identity outside this that anyone could love?

One: I am VERY impressed that you have done the USA and its people this well. I am actually astounded, bewildered, and chuffed. I've never felt so seen by a video game, culturally-speaking. I didn't even know there was a culture to see.

Two: WHY did you do that. Dialtown is like USA Culture Absurdified: The Visual Novel. What drove you to make a game this rich with American culture and ideas???

Hello!

It would've been odd for an outsider (non American) who enjoys reading up on history to make my setting nationalist or alienating. America is a country with a lot of serious issues. You can't really study how America is (and has been) internally run without facing glaring and obvious systematic issues. DT's setting is one of scarcity and most of the main characters you follow in DT are kinda just scraping by without much hope for true mobility/advancement. A lot of Americans (especially younger generations) would agree this sorta encapsulates the national mood of the country right now.

Of course, the systems that run a country don't define its citizens - many of the finest people I've ever known are American and are victims of the whims of those with power, not willing participants in this system. I could be wrong, but that's why I think the setting connected with a lot of people. We all know Randys, Olivers + Karens, people who've fallen through the cracks in some way. To them, America's spirit of self-determination isn't about individual identity - it's more "you're on your own."

Why I chose to set DT in America would be a novel length answer in of itself, but it mainly came down to history + narrative opportunity. I wanted to set the game in the epicenter of where the phone-revolution came from and Crown likely couldn't have pulled his plan off anywhere else and probably not during any other time. It had to be 1960's America.

Of course, some parts of DT are sorta universal and were inspired by the the Great Recession and what followed. I remember there was an area not that far from my house that was full of green fields when I was born and when I was a kid (and when real estate boomed), stuff started being built there. Parts of it looked really nice, not quite like anything nearby. Like the future was coming. Then the economy crashed and stuff was left sitting there, half-built for like a decade. Skeletal, unfinished buildings. DT is much the same.

There's a feeling that the city could've been something better and while things could be more equal, it does feel like there are no easy solutions to fix everything - unless someone very smart and determined somehow bypassed every safeguard that was set up to halt radical change and enacted a genius plan to somehow eliminate scarcity. It happened once and might never again.

I don't think most people understand the intricacies of stuff like global commerce all that well (myself included), but when you're sitting looking at a half built neighbourhood mere hours after speaking to a friend who just kicked out of rented accommodation and doesn't have a stable family unit to fall back on, you'd have to be a real dolt not to understand that things aren't great right now. Most people are scraping by and feel if they could just get affordable housing locked down, if they had maybe one good opportunity - maybe there's hope that things could change for the better.

The end of DT isn't really utopian, things don't massively change for the better and indeed, the town has a lot of rebuilding to do. But, a collection of lonely people are now looking out for each other and through the relationships they have, now feel like they have a place in this world. That no matter how bad things really get - they aren't truly by themselves anymore. Most individuals don't have the means to significantly advance change on their own - but you can live your life, love those around you and support others and plan for when the opportunity to affect change comes about.

I guess that's what life is, in America or anywhere else. Sorry I rambled for so long. Hope this answered the question!

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thememestrider · 2 days ago

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40k Nsfw alphabet - Leman Russ x F! Reader

Merry Christmas everyone. As usual, apologies for grammar and spelling errors, ooc or other such mistakes. Hope you all enjoy :)

(as requested by @yanagikou. I'm working thru everyone else's requests dw, just let me cook lol)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Surprisingly tender and thoughtful. Leman Russ may look like a barbarian on the outside side, but behind closed doors he is a kind, caring and gentle lover.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Leman likes a woman with meat on her bones. He loves belly bumps and love handles. He loves thick thighs that he can sink his fingers into. Also, Fenris is such a cold, wintery place that it's almost essential that a baseline person be a little thicker.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

While finishing inside you will always be his favourite, Leman also loves finishing on your belly or your chest. He loves the sight of you covered in his seed, the smell of it mixing with your sweat and pheromones. He also loves the smell and taste of you. Often, after you two have made love, Leman will be loath to clean himself up- the thought of washing the scent of you from his body is unfathomable to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to try pegging but he's way too scared to ask you. Nothing further, your honour.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Leman is one of only two primarchs (the other being Fulgrim) that ACTUALLY has ANY previous sexual experience. That, paired with his naturally out going and self confident personality, means that generally, Leman feels very confident in bed. He knows all those little tricks. Like propping your lower back up on a pillow and pressing down on your abdomen when he's on top. But don't mistake that confidence for arrogance. If there's one thing that Leman has taken away from his past experiences, the one little trick he will always remember, it's that the only way he can be sure to pleasure his partner is to listen to them. It's to follow their direction. Simply put, he's not the kinda man to rub your inner thigh for 2 mins and ask if you finished. No. He's the kinda guy to tell you to take his hand and guide it to exactly the right spot.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggie (self explanatory. I mean, come on. This is Leman Russ, the big WOLF man. It's basically a requirement at this point.),

missionary (For when he's craving tenderness and intimacy) and spooning (best of both of the above)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Leman can pull off both very well. But the most important thing to note here is that for him, sex is something to have fun with. He wants you both to just enjoy yourselves. If that means being serious, then great! If that means giggling, calling each other funny names or breaking the sexual tension with wise cracks, then great!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The clue is in the name, frankly. Leman Russ is the Great Wolf: of course he's gonna look the part. It's thick. It's bushy. His chest and back are also super hairy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Leman is a surprisingly romantic man. So much of his time is spent warring, fighting, and generally acting like a barbaric ruffian. So, more often than not, by the time he makes it to bed with you, he is craving intimacy and gentleness. Of course, as things spice up he might want to get a little rougher, but it always comes from a place of love, fun and pleasure.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Leman makes as much noise when he masturbates as he does when he's having regular sex. Which is a lot.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

First up is breeding. Regardless of whether or not the pair of you actually want to have children, the thought of pumping you full, of making your belly swell with his seed, is irresistible to him.

Second; menstruation. Everything about it turns him on. The scent of your changing pheromones. The implications of those changes- that your body is not only ready, but yearning for his seed- that feed directly into his breeding kink. The fact that sex provides you relief from your cramps, giving him extra motivation to make love as fiercely and passionately as he can. The red river doesn't bother him either, so no matter how heavy your flow is, he's still gonna eat you out if you want him to.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In the living room of his chambers, in front of the hearth, right on top of the largest, most luxurious animal-hide rug that's sprawled out on the floor in front of the flames.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

One word: scent. And I don't mean perfumes or anything like that. I mean the smell of you. Your pheromones. Your bodily musk. Leman loves it. It's like a drug for him. And when you're feeling turned on or you are ovulating? It sends him absolutely feral.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that involves threatening, demeaning, hitting or choking you and anything else in that vein. The reasons why are pretty obvious: Leman loves you. The thought of hurting you or causing you distress is practically heresy.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.).

Leman is a pussy eating king. When he's giving it to you, he's absolutely ravishing you, so much so you're gonna be aching the next day.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Leman enjoys both as much as each other. It all depends on how you're both feeling.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.).

While he'd prefer to have all night to make love to you, Leman is down for a quickie. This is particularly true when you're ovulating or having your time of the month, as the scent of your hormones makes him horny to the point of frenzy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Absolutely! So long as it doesn't involve any of the things mentioned back up in N, Leman loves experimentation.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Come on. Seriously. This is Leman frickin Russ. This man can go for DAYS.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Leman doesn't own toys, and his ego might be bruised if he learns that you like to use them. He'll get over it though. You won't give him a choice.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Leman is totally a tease. Even more so when the two of you are in public. He likes making you blush with dirty words whispered in your ears and startling you with slaps on the ass or surprise bear hugs from behind.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Leman is utterly shameless when it comes to making noise. He encourages you to be the same. Sounds he makes include in order: growls, moans, roars and whimpers.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When he's going down on ou, he loves it when you pull his hair. Nothing further, your honour.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Imagine the beefiest beefcake of a Viking man, then multiply the beefiness by 3.5. That's Leman.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. Very high. He'd make love to you twice a day if it was viable. He just adores you, your body and how they both make him feel so Throne-damn much.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Leman is always absolutely ragged at the end of your love-making sessions. As much as he wants to just fall straight asleep, however, he insists on caring for and cuddling with you first. He may fall asleep first after that, but only ever after that.

#warhammer 40k #wh40k #primarchs #leman russ #leman russ x reader #warhammer 40k x reader

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