#and about this friend who became the definition of devotion

[jules-and-company]

one thing about me is that i’m an orestes-electra-pylades defender. if you don’t hear them being defended anymore that means i am deceased

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘

Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)

here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.

Until Fury resigned that was.

Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.

Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.

Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.

Not that you had a choice anyway.

Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.

A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.

Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.

The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.

They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.

From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.

You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.

He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.

He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.

They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.

But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.

"Get on your knees."

"Wh-What?"

"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.

You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.

Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.

There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.

He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."

You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.

Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.

You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.

His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.

Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.

"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.

He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.

He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.

"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."

Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.

You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.

He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.

Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.

"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."

His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.

"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.

Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.

Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.

"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.

He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.

Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.

Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.

"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.

"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."

"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.

Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."

and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.

"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"

"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.

The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.

"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.

"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”

Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.

The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.

“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”

“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.

"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."

Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.

"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.

His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.

"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.

“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.

He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.

Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.

But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.

Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.

People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.

You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.

[youleftmenochoicebut]

HOPELESSLY DEVOTED TO YOU — remus lupin.

SUMMARY. — remus can’t help himself, he has to take it off of you.

PAIRING. — remus lupin x halfblood!fem!reader

WARNINGS. — smut; unprotected sex (wrap it up pls!); not much plot but still some;

A/N. — i need some requests! send me some requests!🙏🏻

it’s the first party Lily and James are hosting at their new house, and it oh so happens to be a halloween one. after hours of fighting, your friend group settled on making it costume themed, which has made it tough for you to figure something out.

good for you, your fiancé is a very creative man. not so keen on playing dress-up, but creative nonetheless. you spent a few hours deciding what to wear, and in the end you settle on going as Sandy and Danny from Grease, a musical that over the last few months became your and Remus’ favorite movie.

you can hear Remus grumbling out in the living room, and you giggle to yourself as you finish putting on the bold red lipstick. your eyes focus on your reflection in the mirror, up and down your body in that tight costume, your maroon heels clicking against the floor when you step away from the counter. you ruffle up the curls you made with a muggle curling iron Lily had borrowed you for the occasion, and you leave the bathroom in a jumpy stroll.

„m’ready, Remy!” you hum softly, making your way over to where you’re sure he’s waiting for you, having the biggest smile on your face when you see him.

even though you knew who you were going as, you two decided to keep the exact look of your costumes a secret up until this moment. you think he looks amazing, he always does to you. he’s a bit down spiritually, considering the full moon is in about a week, but he definitely put his best into this. for you.

„you look handsome!” you put your hands on his chest, eyes grazing over his tall figure, and you hear him sigh. his dark caramel hair is brushed back with a lot of gel and styled to mimic Danny’s, the scars on his face faint and whitened from the time that’s passed since he got them. he’s wearing the costume well, simple black t-shirt that clings to his lanky body, black jeans that are taut on him, and of course, a leather jacket.

„thanks, dovey. you look fabulous.” he murmurs, resting his hands on the swell of your hips, thumbs brushing over your hipdips affectionately. he was leaning against the arm of the sofa, and now he stands up, raising his eyebrows.

you nod, and his arm wraps around your middle, hand on your lower back, and he smoothly apparates you both outside the Potter’s house in Godrick’s Hollow. your fingers intertwine as you make your way inside, the party already in full swing. Lily greets you, dressed as Sally Hardesty, and you compliment her outfit while hugging her. she moves on quickly though, going to greet new guests.

as you walk through the house with Remus practically attached at your hip, you see James and Sirius already dancing on the coffee table in the living room. Black dressed as David Bowie, and James… well, you assume is Leatherface (deducting from Lily’s costume), but honestly it’s hard to tell.

you split with Remus when Mary, Dorcas and Marlene drag you away from him, making you take some shots with them and dance.

and oh, you dance a lot. you’ve always loved dancing, your muggle mom being a dance teacher at a prestige academy. when you were little, before you went to Hogwarts, you used to always follow your mom to her private lessons. even now, despite not living in the muggle part of London, you love to wander to those parts of town, looking in windows at dancing studios.

somehow you end up upstairs (smoking some pot with Peter probably hasn’t been the best idea), walking through the hallway with your head turning left and right, watching the walls as if they are the most interesting thing you’ve seen tonight. suddenly you feel a harsh tug, someone pulling you into a bathroom, and you’re ready to scream before Remus’ scent envelopes your senses.

„Merlin, you scared me!” you hit his shoulder, frowning confused as you feel his hands glide all over your body, touching and kneading your flesh.

„sorry. need you.” his mumble against the column of your throat is barely audible, and you pull him away for a moment by tugging at the ends of his hair.

you know he gets like that, soon before the full moon. needy. possessive. heated. sometimes it’s almost like the wolf in him takes over, trying to keep you as close to him as possible, trying to mark you up. you can tell he’s drunk too, his pupils dilated, his breathing rapid.

you only smile, waving your to cast muffliato over the room, so that you won’t be overheard. you also cast colloportus to keep the door locked for anyone who could accidentally walk in on you two.

before you can turn your head back to him, he’s already tugging your shirt off, unclasping your bra, letting both things fall to the cold floor. he stares at your tits, just for a while, quickly leaning in and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. while his mouth works on your left boob, his hand squeezes and plays with the right one, and you throw your head back in quiet pleasure. he’s got you pinned against the door, the handle digging into your side, but you don’t mind it.

aware of the fact you can’t stay in here for much time, you gently push him off you, dropping to your knees. you grit your teeth when they hit the tiles, your hands reaching out to unbuckle his belt, fighting with it for a few seconds before Remus helps you. he throws the belt away, unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. his cock springs out, painfully hard, slapping over his lower torso.

your mouth always waters at the sight of it, the throbbing ache between your thighs always doubling. it’s not very impressive in girth, but it’s long. like nine inches long. uncut, of course. your hand wraps around his base, giving it a gentle stroke, and Remus lets you just have your fun with it for a bit. not for too long though, because he soon gets impatient, and pats your hands away.

his own hand grabs his dick, and he steps closer, slapping his shaft against your cheek.

„open up, dovey.” he rasps out, and once you open your mouth, he puts the tip of his cock on your stuck out tongue, making a tsch sound. with a snap of his hips, he wastes no time pushing his junk further down your throat, making you gag and spit up. he’s mean tonight, set on what he wants, so he doesn’t pull out. he starts to thrust in and out, shallow at first, then grabs a handful of your hair to tug your head in closer. “you like that, huh? i sure as hell do. looking so fucking perfect for me on your knees like that.”

the way he talks, the way his thrusts grow faster and sharper, the way he pulls your hair to control your head movement. it all leads to you clutching your hands at his thighs, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, and your legs squeezing closed. you reach out, taking hold of his balls and kneading them between your fingers, happy as you hear the grunts escaping his mouth. finally he lets go of you, allowing you to breathe (or more like heave) for not even a minute before he grabs your arm and yanks you up. you grasp the edge of the bathtub, leaning down slightly, your ass on his crotch level.

you tilt your head back, wanting to watch him, and he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your tight leather pants, harshly pulling them down to your ankles. he rips your thongs off, and when you yelp in a form of protest, he slaps your asscheek hard.

“wanted to take those damn pants off the moment you left our bathroom.” Remus whispers, leaning over to nip at your earlobe, his slender digits grazing over your soaked cunt. “fuck, dove, you’re so wet. guess you wanted that as much as i did.”

“Remy, shit…” you whimper as he pushes two fingers in right away, and honestly they go in so smoothly, you’re surprised. he seems surprised too, letting out a low chuckle and pressing a kiss behind your ear, then straightens up.

he stretches your hole for a few minutes, adding a third finger, pumping in and out, curling his fingers inside you to hit the spot he knows makes you see stars. he even lets you come undone on his fingers, your orgasm crushing over you rather suddenly, and you can feel your pulse quicken rapidly.

he doesn’t let you ride out your orgasm though, removing his fingers to replace them with his cock. he’s not gentle about it either, immediately taking up a rough pace, hips slamming into yours in reckless abandon.

you arch your back, moans and whines you let out getting more obscure with each thrust, and you reach back, trying to wrap your arms around his neck while not facing him. he helps you, hands moving from your hips to your waist and pulling you closer, resting his chin on your shoulder as he fucks into you.

“that’s it. so good to me, dovey. taking my cock like a pro.” he coos in your ear affectionately, fingers tracing mindless patterns over your stomach and his pace slows down. “gonna take my load too? or should i cum all over this gorgeous ass of yours?

you know he’s close, he practically always slows down when he’s close to cumming, and you can’t do much more than just nodding your head, feeling like mush in his embrace.

he clicks his tongue, slapping your tit lightly, and whispers. “use your words. can’t take a fucking nod as an answer.”

“inside, Remy. y’can cum inside.” you breathe out, the shakiness in your voice a clear indicator that you’re chasing your next release too. his hands rest on your chest at last, and he’s panting in your ear, while you let out a moan so high-pitched you would’ve cringed at it, if it wasn’t for the fact you’re getting fucked senseless right now.

his hips snap against yours a couple more times before he buries himself inside you completely, moaning and grunting as he stills, cumming deep into your cunt that’s squeezing him and clenching around him so deliciously. you climax at the same time, your legs giving up on you so you lean on Remus mostly, heaving and rasping for air.

it takes you both a while to come back to your senses, but when you do, Remus is peppering kisses over the side of your neck and shoulder, mumbling quiet praises.

“d’ya wanna go home, dovey?” he asks you as your pulse and breathing go back to normal, and you turn in his arms, letting his dick slide out of you.

“yeah. let’s go home.”

[vintagetvstars]

Alexander Siddig Vs. Jeremy Brett

Last Poll of the Quarter Finals!

Propaganda

Alexander Siddig - (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) - The very first actor I ever had a crush on.

Jeremy Brett - (The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, The Three Musketeers, BBC Play of the Month) - "Listen, I fell in love with One Man when I was 16 and have never regretted it. Jeremy Brett is Everything. Handsome, charming, sweet, amazing voice, delightfully eccentric. Shakespearean actor best known for playing Sherlock Holmes in the 80s, he is widely considered the definitive Holmes and for good reason. Bisexual and bipolar, devoted husband, he was known to serenade friends at restraunts and hold scavenger hunts in his home, where he hid the plunger in a chandelier. Often pigeonholed into period pieces, he owned them. He was a pretty young man who became not just handsome but arresting. He was one of those people who walked into a room and instantly commanded attention, and I for one have never regretted giving him my attention." Full text propaganda included below the cut

- No Negative Propaganda Please -

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Alexander Siddig:

“At my first meeting with Garak I became visibly flustered. That was entirely my choice. It wasn’t written into the script. So I set off in that direction right from the get-go. And Andy (Andrew Robinson) obviously loved it, and that character became a series-long character because of that first scene. It’s an innocuous little scene on one of the little replimats on the station, and it only lasted like five seconds but it packed a punch because of the visible, kind of a charged, discomfort. That really made it. [...] I subconsciously keep that door open with just about every character that I play, and I always keep it as ambiguous as possible. One of my first roles was in [the TV movie] A Dangerous Man: Lawrence After Arabia with Ralph Fiennes and I played Feisal and again, not in the script, but that was charged with homoerotica and implied homosexuality. I’d just come fresh off that project. And I’ve done it numerous times since, characters that are written straight I just make sure are not quite straight. That’s just one of my things, probably because I’m not quite straight myself and that’s probably perfect." - Alexander Siddig in a recent interview with comicsbeat.com

Jeremy Brett:

“The superbly handsome Jeremy Brett, the regularity of his features made dramatic by a broken nose, the mellifluousness of his voice made arresting by a slight vocal impediment, presented a ravaged and romantic Holmes, a man who had suffered deeply and whose recourse to the syringe was the compulsion of a self-destroying temperament. His relationship with Edward Hardwicke’s transparently decent Watson was that of a drowning man clinging to a raft. The authenticity of the performance was unmistakable.” — “The man who created a monster; Conan Doyle hated the fame of his suave hero, but he couldn’t kill him”, Simon Callow, The Times, 18 December 2009.

Listen, I fell in love with One Man when I was 16 and have never regretted it. Jeremy Brett is Everything. Handsome, charming, sweet, amazing voice, delightfully eccentric. Shakespearean actor best known for playing Sherlock Holmes in the 80s, he is widely considered the definitive Holmes and for good reason. Bisexual and bipolar, devoted husband, he was known to serenade friends at restraunts and hold scavenger hunts in his home, where he hid the plunger in a chandelier. He also practiced archery in the middle of London. He could sing, he acted alongside Audrey Hepburn twice. He wanted to be a jockey when he was young but then grew a foot too tall. He had rheumatic fever as a child and was told he would never climb stairs. Dear Reader, he jumped over couches on film. In War and Peace he is very clearly the only actor riding a real horse, and is one of few actors who played both Sherlock Holmes and Watson. Often pigeonholed into period pieces, he owned them. He was a pretty young man who became not just handsome but arresting. He was one of those people who walked into a room and instantly commanded attention, and I for one have never regretted giving him my attention.

[yanderefarm]

yandere fanboy introduction

cw;; murder, cannibalism, gore, violence

here's noemie the 2nd goth boyfriend of my dreams. this one is shorter bc I decided to omit the nsfw segment this time. the drawing is the face he made when he asked you to eat him.

noemie is a gay goth boy who became obsessed with the local legend after finding out his father secretly deals with him.

his family is well off and shady as all hell. they're the kind of rich people who hunt other humans for sport.

after finding out about his family's dealings he immediately became obsessed with your legend doing all kinds of research on you. eventually he decided he wanted to see what you were actually like in person so he suggested his friends do the test of courage.

you did not disappoint! he was just a fan before but as soon as he met you he knew he loved you and would do anything for you.

his friends were about to light the building on fire when he found them and killed them both. he wasn't strong enough to drag them along with him so unfortunately their meat couldn't be used.

he made his own mask so he wouldn't be recognized by anyone while he helps you out. and he loves to help you out. anything you need he'll do it.

he's considered premium meats because he's got a nice distribution of fat and muscle. that's why his nickname is piggy!

he's an obsessed fanboy through and through. he collects your belongings, takes pictures of you when you're not paying attention, built a shrine to you.

he makes fancams out of grainy dark footage that's speculated to be you. like a true stan.

he gets jealous everytime he watches you put someone on a meat hook. he gets REALLY jealous if you keep someone in your pig pens as livestock.

he gets upset when you call other people premium meat but he's trying to get over that. they might be good meat but he's the only one that belongs solely to you.

his dad knows about your arrangement but he's too scared to confront you and tell you to leave his son alone. he will not let noemie live in the slaughter house that's off limits.

noemie is actually a big fan of ajax's onlyfans videos. he just tends to imagine it's you.

definitely a panty thief. will steal your underwear and any other clothes and keep them as part of his shrine.

he's a more typical yandere. his sickness comes from his obsession and devotion to you. he'll kill anyone to make you love him. if his own father got in his way he'd kill him with remorse.

[soullessdianthus]

have you written anything for a perv!gromsko? he is my favorite and i would love to see you write for him!

A/N: I decided to write him in the most stereotypical way which is misogynistic (men in Poland are like this fr *COUGHS*). Just because I gave myself a pass to do that bc I'm Polish, okay? *Muah* to this anon for Polish reference! (づ￣ ³￣)づ

Warnings: misogyny, sabotage in workplace, nsfw (overstimulation, darcyphilia, cockwarming, throat training, dumbification maybe?)

✧°. Gromsko is a misogynistic kind of pervert. Born and raised in a traditional Polish family he grew unaware of his deepest, darkest desires. Until.

✧°. When you enrolled into the SpecGru forces, he couldn’t believe something as delicate as a girl found herself here, within the private military company. Of course Sobiesław knew women were stronger than it seemed, but not in a fucking battlefield. In his opinion they should worry about hearth and home not a bloodshed. 

✧°. Obviously he had been working with some scary women before, but never with someone like you – still young, perhaps naive even. Your pretty body untouched with little to no scars. You were definitely a description of a delicate flower in his eyes.

✧°. His mother and grandmother raised him well – he would never risk the life of a devoted woman in a place like this. So since the first day Kościuszko saw you enter the gym hall, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

✧°. Perv!Gromsko would stare from his spot, surrounded by his friends, yet it was you who got his full attention. How your body flexes and muscles stretch while working out or how your breasts bounce as you run on the treadmill. Dear God, don’t give him ideas.

✧°. He was already dreaming of you riding his cock into oblivion, naked while he was in full uniform. Sobiesław’s coarse hands pressing down onto your hips, making you sink further against him and his girl mewling from pleasure.

✧°. Sneaking behind everyone’s back Perv!Gromsko would do everything to be assigned with you while on a mission. Sobiesław very carefully sabotaged your work just for the superiors to punish you. 

✧°. Why? Because he would defend you in front of them, telling them you need another chance, that he would guide you. And since he was an honored soldier within the company, they made him your temporary superior as he had a higher rank than you. From now on, he was responsible for you and your doings. 

✧°. Gromsko had you where he wanted to since the very beginning – vulnerable and dependent. 

✧°. Perv!Sobiesław believed it was meant that way, because women should listen to their husbands, right? First thing he wanted to change in your training routine was cardio. 

✧°. Your comrade told you to show up at his dorm’s door in the evening. Without much thinking of it, you came straight to him, thinking he would take you to gym – how foolish.

✧°. A loud gasp escaped your mouth, when the man that was supposed to help you with your training session was pressing your face into the bedroom’s wall as his huge hands were groping your breasts! Perv!Gromsko would correct your stamina by relentlessly thrusting into your tight cunt, causing you to beg for a break with tears streaming down your eyes. 

✧°. Evening sessions with Sobiesław became an almost daily occurrence. The man would bend you in different positions on his bed, thrusting deep into your pretty pussy until you couldn’t cum anymore. Perv!Gromsko would mock your lack of stamina and threaten he would not allow you to go on a mission if you hadn’t tried harder.

✧°. So he began training your throat breath by telling you to keep his cock in your wet mouth for a good while, sucking gently from time to time. Of course your tears and sobs were causing him to feel pity for you, but Sobiesław was doing this to help you become better! :( 

✧°. He was reading a book, the one from his grandma, while you were laying between his toned legs, keeping his throbbing member warm. You would whine from time to time from the lack of enough oxygen. But then Gromsko would simply caress your pretty, silly head and tell you how good job you’re doing. <3

✧°. “Such a good girl f’me.”

✧°. “No dalej, dasz radę, Mała [pol.: Come on, you can do this, little one].”

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

02 Jealousy

Zhongli x Reader / SFW but suggestive at the end / Mentions of Childe / Set at the beginning of the Liyue archon quest / Reader is unaware that Zhongli is the Geo Archon

"My dear, is something on your mind?"

Perceptive as he was, Zhongli couldn't figure out what it was that was upsetting you. That pout on your lips had been plastered there for a while now and as many times as he had questioned you if anything was bothering you, you simply brushed it off.

"I'm fine." You were, or so you thought you should be.

Zhongli was a bit of an attention magnet, which was not surprising with the meticulous way he dressed, his exceptional knowledge, and the way he carried himself. He delighted in it, smiling and going about his day as if he were simply soaking in sunlight. You often found the consultant lost in long-winded conversations with random people on the streets. While you found the person's advances a bit pushy, Zhongli didn't seem to think much of it.

Suspicions prickled underneath your skin when Zhongli mentioned that the individual had paid him yet another visit at the funeral parlor, this time insisting on taking him out to dinner. Zhongli was certainly not giving the eyesore any reason to stop encroaching by entertaining their whims. There was definitely something going on between them, outside of whatever business dealings the funeral parlor had with the Fatui. The more you thought about it, the surer you became.

Zhongli could tell something was amiss with you. Perhaps you were worried for him, maybe even a little bit possessive of him. It was a silly sentiment to have when he was so devoted to you.

"Darling, please tell me what is bothering you. It worries me that it may be my doing." He asks yet again one afternoon.

The way he tenderly gazes at you should assure you enough that there was no space in his heart for another person. Every time he calls you his dear, his sweetheart, or darling, you can hear the sincerity spilling over in his voice. It'd be cruel of you to keep him guessing, wouldn't it?

"You know that pair of chopsticks you got Childe when he arrived in Liyue? The dragon and phoenix one..." You brought up something that seemed irrelevant save for the person mentioned.

"Oh, yes. I remember them well. Their craftsmanship was quite exceptional." His eyes lit up the way they always did when he speaks about a particularly striking find he happens upon during his strolls through the city. "I gifted them to him as a gesture of welcome since he was learning to use them."

"I think he misunderstood your intentions."

Being the most learned person in Liyue regarding its traditions and customs, Zhongli didn't need to be reminded exactly what kind of intentions you were alluding to. The consultant's brows immediately furrowed in contemplation.

"While I do see how such a gift could be interpreted in other ways, I am certain that they don't apply to our particular circumstances."

"You gave him something that lovers give each other to pledge their love! Aren't you going to explain yourself?" You pouted, crossing your arms.

The consultant gave you an aggrieved yet amused look. "Traditionally, the dragon and phoenix symbolizes harmony and prosperity, something both Liyue and Snezhnaya hopes to achieve through steady trade. While it's most commonly given between couples, it may also be given to a friend or business partner to convey longevity."

Zhongli's reasoning was sound, however you refused to be convinced. You shook your head in frustration. "Don't you see? He's coming onto you too strongly for someone who just wants a diplomatic relationship!"

You couldn't just outright tell him to keep his distance from the Fatui harbinger since they were business acquaintances. Liyue harbor has its fair share of flirtatious people, the shopkeeper at Scent of Spring for one, but there was just something about the redhead in particular that unsettled you. The way Zhongli unabashedly spends his money also left much for you to think about. It wasn't all that different from the way Director Hu allowed him to leave tabs under the funeral parlor's name, but he wasn't as close to the Fatui harbinger as he was with Hutao. There was just something off about the dynamic between Childe and Zhongli. It didn't sit well with you at all.

"Either he has a thing for you or he's up to something. I'm sure of it."

The consultant stifled a chuckle. He was beginning to piece together the reason for your strange behavior lately. "Dear, I assure you that he is not interested in me in that way. Even if he were, I only have eyes for you."

"So you're just going to let him keep chasing you?" You frowned. "You know, I can spoil you too."

"Hm.... Where is this competitiveness of yours coming from?" Zhongli mused.

"Isn't that why you're giving him so much of your time? Because he's opening his wallet for you?" You pointed out. That redhead was hogging too much of your lover's time. You wanted it back.

"The Fatui have agreed to pay for Rex Lapis's Rite of Parting. I've been given a considerable sum to purchase all the necessities for the rites and to cover any expenses arising from the preparations, with the remaining funds to keep. So yes, if you must put it that way, he is indeed giving me his wallet to spend as I please."

"I might not be the Northland Bank, but I can buy you nice things too."

"I'm sure you can, my sweet." Zhongli stroked your cheek, distracting you momentarily. "I may only be a mere funeral consultant, but I too find it rewarding to spoil the one I treasure in pleasantries. If the Northland Bank wishes to further subsidize my spending, I shall not decline if it will allow me to do so."

"I don't know if I like the idea of my lover having a sugar daddy." You tried to keep a straight face as you said this.

"A sugar... daddy?" Zhongli's brow went up again. He understood the two words but put together, they obviously meant something he was not yet exposed to.

"A sponsor, but you have to entertain them romantically."

"I have no intentions of entertaining anyone but you in that sense." Zhongli chuckled as leaned in close, breath tickling your skin.

You begrudgingly accepted his kiss and his carefully placed touches.

"I want a pair too." You panted when his lips finally parted from yours.

"Very well. I will pay the shop a visit tomorrow morning to ensure a new pair of chopsticks will be made ready in time for your birthday. I will make a reservation at the Liuli Pavillion as well. If there is anything else I need to do to put your frustrations behind you, pray tell. I cannot stand that constant pout on your face." Zhongli grumbled, but it only made you giggle uncontrollably with the way he was nuzzling your neck while he spoke.

"Spoil me good tonight and maybe I'll consider letting you off the hook." You challenged.

"You test me."

Zhongli hummed in satisfaction, wasting no time in scooping you up in his arms and whisking you away to your bedroom amidst your feigned protests. If anything good came out of your pouting, it was his willingness to please. The consultant was on his knees, doing everything in his power to get back in your good graces.

[futuremrscameron]

meet bunny!reader

bunny!reader moved to the outer banks six months before the events of season 1. she catches the eye of pogues and kooks alike with her doe eyes, sweet smile, and pink wardrobe. she’s the life of the party, the belle of the ball, the IT girl

loves using kaomojis in her texts, signs off her texts with her signature, aka some variation of a bunny

a total daddy’s girl, it’s been just the two of them since her mom died when she was four so he devoted all of his free time into giving her everything she wanted (it’s probably why she’s so spoiled) he also though her how to use a gun and put her in muay thai classes because no one was gonna fuck with his baby girl and love to tell the tale

everyone calls her bunny because of her bouncy walk, rapid blinking, nose twitches, and high energy. jj’s convinced she’s a literal bunny that turns into a human at will. her frequent trips to the mainland every full moon solidifies this theory in his mind

you can catch her shopping with her friends jade and stacy or golfing with figure eight’s infamous rafe cameron at kildare’s country club

unlike most kooks she has no problem with the pogues and if she’s not with her girlfriends or rafe she’s probably with the pogues. laughing at jj’s antics, giving sarah the latest tea, or asking pope about his thoughts on fast fashion

bunny!reader knows brains only gets a girl so far, especially in a small town like kildare so of course she plays up her ditziness sometimes. men already assume she’s stupid and has more tits than brain so if she lets them believe it to get something she wants and fuck them over in the process who cares?

no one suspects the pretty girl who isn’t the brightest of thievery and she definitely wouldn’t lie to cops about the last time she spoke to her boyfriend with a sketchy record

unintentionally became an influencer. she’s just so pretty and charming and people love hearing her talk about the drama in her small town while she plans outfits for the upcoming week

in an on and off relationship with rafe since s1. sometimes she dumps him, other times he dumps her but they’re friends always bet on when they’re gonna get back together/break up.

her dad thinks rafe’s a piece of shit that’s not good enough for his sweet babygirl (he’s right but the heart wants what it wants)

gets along well with everyone, even the pogues once they get to know her and realize she isn’t a spawn of satan like rafe. they sort of become protective of her once they find out that she doesn’t know about him making their life hell which becomes the source of many rafe crash outs

bunny!reader loves parties. she loves planning them, attending them, thinking of them, loves everything about them. she’s the life of the party even when she’s not the host, you can find her dancing on counters and tabletops as rafe yells for her to get down, sitting by his side while he “works the party” occasionally rubbing her thigh to satiate her whines for him to dance with her, or doing shots with her friends.

rafe loves doing coke with her cause it gives her more energy which no one that was possible and it makes her horny. if he’s got coke dick he doesn’t even have to do anything just let her tire herself out and he gets to watch so really it’s a win-win

easily frightened, it’s why she doesn’t watch scary movies. rafe loves scaring her in the stupidest ways, jumping out from behind the couch, tapping her shoulder in the dark, waking her up with the ghostface mask. he usually apologizes if she cries and she usually forgives him (unless she was really scared then he sleeps on the couch)

people underestimating her gives her an advantage over them. they think she’s just a pretty girl that’s more tits than brains and don’t realize how wrong they are til they’re getting robbed by rafe, watching her speed away after talking her way out of a ticket, or convinced shoupe that she hasn’t seen rafe in days

during their breakups she uses the burner phone rafe got her to calls girls he’s hooking up with and tells them he’s seeing other girls. rafe can’t stay pissed because it does that she misses him as much as he misses her

gets along well with wheezie but not sarah. wheezie thinks she’s like an actual doll that came to life and likes that she actually listens to her. sarah is worried for her safety and constantly trying to warn her about rafe. bunny is an only child and believes that siblings should always stick together so whenever they talks she’s trying to get her to reconcile with rafe. both girls are too stubborn to listen

actively planning their wedding in her head save imagining how their kids are gonna look (they’re currently broken up)

bunny!reader is rafe’s #1 ride or die. she’ll always bail him out of a tight spot, jail, pogues rocking his shit, ward on his back, owes barry money. her biggest flaw is that she loves that man

[meinkatzchen]

ur oc It just cute, really caught my attention and I'm curious now

How is kitty and strade friendship?

Friendship? Seriously, anon?- friends are not tied or kidnepped! Okay, these are all jokes, I understand that you mean their relationship :)

And in her story, In short: for her (and for Ren, actually) he became the one who took away a piece of humanity, giving something in return.

Mist is quite mediocre in many skills, if you take creative and household chores, she's just a law student who always wanted to be a lawyer for a good cause - to defend the innocent who were convicted without evidence. I think if she had said something like that in front of Strade, he would have burst out laughing and would have teased her for a long time for this thought, gradually convincing her that there is no justice in the world at all and that even he could be released from custody if he hid the evidence and paid a lot of money. It's cruel, but at least he knocked the rose-colored glasses out of her head.

But he may be curious about her, seeing that she is learning quickly, but especially trying to do everything to reduce the pain that she is having a hard time enduring, and to avoid torture: to resort to trickery; to offer to torture someone else with her own hands; if Ren decides to stand up for her someday, she will not stop him and etc - for Strade, all this may even be funny. Actually, he became the person who will gradually put the seed of a charismatic manipulator in her and allow it to develop, which will sprout in the future.

It always seemed to me that the first few months, Mist watched Strade very carefully and closely to understand his behavior pattern, to understand what makes him happy, what angers him, what leads to punishment, and what leads to gifts. In the future, such a pattern will be fixed in her everyday life, thanks to which she will gradually-gradually reach her heights and surround herself with devoted people.

If, as Gato wrote, Ren subconsciously competes with Strade in cruelty, which would really be typical for a male, then Mist does not compete, but draws on the skills of manipulation, charismatic speeches, in general knowledge from the category of "what to do to get this and that".

…But if we throw away all seriousness and return to moments of calm in the house, then he would definitely like to tease her. For example, he would take her favorite cute plush animals, which she kept at night to calm down, and do various inappropriate things with them, or knowing how much she monitors hygiene and the level of hair on her body, he would hide her razor and various soaps and shower gels. What a hog!

[yanderes-galore]

Light yagimi (Death Note) Platonic Hcs maybe with a classmate darling 🪲 [Shiny Bug Anon]

Sure, it's been a long time since I wrote anything for Death Note. Here's what I got after watching a summary of the anime events :)

Yandere! Platonic! Light Yagami with Classmate! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, God complex/Egotistical behavior, Manipulation, Murder, Jealousy, Stalking, Possessive behavior, Blackmail mantioned, Forced companionship.

Having Light as an obsessive friend is a... Scary thought.

He's popular among classmates and adored by his family.

He's a genius and before the whole Death Note issue... He seemed like a normal classmate to you.

With the ideal Light has once he gets the Death Note, he's definitely use them to his advantage when it comes to you.

Imagine if during High School you two became friends due to sharing classes together.

Light's charismatic so you may never notice the egotistical messiah complex he gains.

Any dark thing he does is hidden away from your eyes.

He acts as your caring best friend, always giving you smiles and sticking around you.

He seems perfect... There's nothing wrong, is there.

Light seems like he'd be very devoted to his obsession's safety.

He has the power of a God in his hands, he'd definitely abuse it for his darling.

For example, maybe you come crying to him one day about something.

He's confused only for you to admit you've been robbed, assaulted, or some other crime.

Light would definitely make sure whoever did that died immediately.

He's unnerving as any yandere due to the fact he can manipulate so well.

With the Death Note he's even proven to be ruthless.

You and him are close friends and classmates, of course he's extremely attentive to you.

Light no doubt keeps track of your every move.

Even before you became official friends he seemed drawn to you.

Somehow Light's always where you need him to be.

He's often always around and almost seems possessive of you as his friend.

You're purely platonic yet he seems too... close.

Light originally only kills criminals who harm you/are active around you.

Although, as time goes on, he just seems to kill whoever he deems as a danger to you.

I imagine he tries to hide his true nature from you, yet if you find out too much he blackmails you into staying quiet beside him.

Sure, he may be Kira... But he's done nothing but protect you, hasn't he?

However, he's manipulative enough you might not find out.

After all, at school he's compassionate and helpful to you.

Ryuk no doubt finds Light's concern over you amusing.

Even when he's "dating Misa" he's overly caring about his classmate and best friend.

There's times he just seem to act as a caring older brother to you, always seeming to get along well with family.

He's always judging if you have partners or not, trying to deem them trustworthy.

He's another strong yandere when he has the Death Note.

He could easily get rid of rivals, all while tending and caring to you with a compassionate attitude.

There's no need for him to kidnap as he likes to keep appearances.

He has other ways of keeping you locked into supporting him.

If someone tried to use you against him, Light would be pissed.

Yet he'd never harm you.

Normally he kills those who could expose him.

But he just knows you won't talk.

You trust him too much.

Even when you've graduated and aren't classmates anymore, Light still keeps you close and in contact.

He often calls you, asks you about your day, and could listen to you talk for hours.

He wants you to be close with his family so they can support his obsession.

Overall, Light would put on acts around his classmate darling.

You easily trust everything he says as he's not only popular but your friend.

You're mostly oblivious to his killings and his stalking.

A trait he pities yet exploits.

But hey, that's okay!

He'll be sure to protect and preserve such an innocence... You two are close!

With his help... You'll be happy and safe in the new world he plans to create.

"What did you say happened to you? Tell me... I'll make it all better. It's what friends are for, right? Now give me a name...."

[vintagetvstars]

Jeremy Brett Vs. Jonathan Frid

Propaganda

Jeremy Brett - (The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, The Three Musketeers, BBC Play of the Month) - "Listen, I fell in love with One Man when I was 16 and have never regretted it. Jeremy Brett is Everything. Handsome, charming, sweet, amazing voice, delightfully eccentric. Shakespearean actor best known for playing Sherlock Holmes in the 80s, he is widely considered the definitive Holmes and for good reason. Bisexual and bipolar, devoted husband, he was known to serenade friends at restraunts and hold scavenger hunts in his home, where he hid the plunger in a chandelier. Often pigeonholed into period pieces, he owned them. He was a pretty young man who became not just handsome but arresting. He was one of those people who walked into a room and instantly commanded attention, and I for one have never regretted giving him my attention." Full text propaganda included below the cut

Jonathan Frid - (Dark Shadows) - the man who brought the first sympathetic vampire in pop culture to life! he was so hot that they sent him on a ten-city tour. he was so hot that teen magazines auctioned off dates with him. he was so hot that allegedly women would mail him love letters and/or nude pictures of themselves! he gave what should have been a quickly-killed-off soap opera villain/dracula knockoff a sense of gravitas, intrigue, and humanity that ultimately made him the star of the show. watching him act is always a treat. I've also met several people who knew him, and overall he just seems like a great guy. there's a documentary about him free on tubi, i recommend checking it out! (fun fact, he was also gay. who on tumblr doesn't love gay vampires).

- No Negative Propaganda Please -

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Jeremy Brett:

“The superbly handsome Jeremy Brett, the regularity of his features made dramatic by a broken nose, the mellifluousness of his voice made arresting by a slight vocal impediment, presented a ravaged and romantic Holmes, a man who had suffered deeply and whose recourse to the syringe was the compulsion of a self-destroying temperament. His relationship with Edward Hardwicke’s transparently decent Watson was that of a drowning man clinging to a raft. The authenticity of the performance was unmistakable.” — “The man who created a monster; Conan Doyle hated the fame of his suave hero, but he couldn’t kill him”, Simon Callow, The Times, 18 December 2009.

Listen, I fell in love with One Man when I was 16 and have never regretted it. Jeremy Brett is Everything. Handsome, charming, sweet, amazing voice, delightfully eccentric. Shakespearean actor best known for playing Sherlock Holmes in the 80s, he is widely considered the definitive Holmes and for good reason. Bisexual and bipolar, devoted husband, he was known to serenade friends at restraunts and hold scavenger hunts in his home, where he hid the plunger in a chandelier. He also practiced archery in the middle of London. He could sing, he acted alongside Audrey Hepburn twice. He wanted to be a jockey when he was young but then grew a foot too tall. He had rheumatic fever as a child and was told he would never climb stairs. Dear Reader, he jumped over couches on film. In War and Peace he is very clearly the only actor riding a real horse, and is one of few actors who played both Sherlock Holmes and Watson. Often pigeonholed into period pieces, he owned them. He was a pretty young man who became not just handsome but arresting. He was one of those people who walked into a room and instantly commanded attention, and I for one have never regretted giving him my attention.

Jonathan Frid:

"HES SO CUNTY" - mutual's reaction to me sharing this photo:

[xjulixred45x]

Theseus(+ Asterius obvi) with Son! Reader

It is no mystery that I am a geek, that I am a Greek mythology nerd, and that precisely led me to fall HARD for Hades, and I take advantage of every aspect of the myths for my writing.

how, for example, that in the myths, Theseus had a son with an Amazon (which could be Hippolita or Antiope depending on the version), who died, and his son, Hippolytus, became one of the hero's tragedies.

Basically he was a believer of Artemis who took a vow of chastity, his stepmother fell in love with him, he rejected her, she defamed him and killed herself, Theseus found out and despised his son, even when he had an accident in his cart ( which in most versions HE CAUSED by asking Poseidon to punish his son), but when the truth is revealed Theseus goes directly to his son in his last moments to apologize (and not leave him alone in his last moments).

Although his son forgave him in the myth, I like to think that, in perspective and using the logic that they are in the Hades universe, his son did not really think he would see his father again, so although in the moment he FORGIVE HIM definitely left things tense, since Hippolytus/reader ended up in Elysium because of his devotion to Artemis (in some versions he even becomes her sidekick).

and I like to think that while Theseus IS insufferable and pompous, he definitely has a soft spot for his son, seeing him as proud to have a close relationship with the gods and wanting to dedicate his life to them. probably also when they were alive encouraged several of Hipolito/reader's more violent hobbies, even if it was a little worrying at times😅

and now that he is back in the prime of his youth in Elysium and his son is with him, let's say that Theseus "discreetly" wants to compensate for his faults in life (especially the end of his son's life), it will be a bit of a head. tough but he's not stupid to realize that he screwed up big time with his son.

They probably do bonding by sparring and sparring with each other, they fight while talking and catching up on each other's lives (or, well, "life") and when Asterius joins, he also quickly blends in as a mediator between the two if they argue (especially about a certain _incident_)

Although Theseus is proud of his son and loves him, he never shuts up. Asterius on the other hand lets the boy talk and talk and generally gives more room for his opinion, he is someone Hippolytus/reader can go to to make sure those secrets don't get out between the two of them.

Asterius would refer to Hippolytus/reader as "little one" or "little prince", CHANGE MY MIND.

IMAGINE IF HIPPOLYTUS/READER WAS A KIND OF THIRD CHAMPION OF THE ELYSIUM! Theseus would be so PROUD of his son, crying and all "they grow up so fast."

Asterius would be a little more serious, but it would probably be because he himself is holding back the urge to cry while congratulating Hippolytus/reader on his first victory in Elysium and earning his champion title.

Theseus and Asterius would take the issue of Hippolytus/reader's chastity VERY SERIOUSLY not only out of respect for Artemis, but because 1- he already had a terrible experience with women and 2- it is something very important FOR HIM, so good luck trying to approach him or, gods forbid, flirt.

although I think that if Hippolytus/reader were interested in any relationship, it would probably be one similar to that of Asterius and Theseus themselves, a "brotherly" (homoerotic) bond, someone he could consider a rival, an enemy who became into a friend, an ally, a brother, something for him.

and that's why I like the idea of pairing him with Zagreus.

1- a love interest who is not a Tsundere (Hippolytus/reader is more virgin than Olive oil, so he is quite shy).

2- it would be an interesting dynamic (How Zagreus is going to fight with this boy, son of the man he hates the most, only to realize that they have a lot in common, earning each other's respect and even their help)

and 3- THESEUS AND ASTERIUS'S REACTIONS WOULD BE HILARIOUS

Theseus would be SO CONVINCED that this DAEMON manipulated his chaste son so that he would go easy on him and lose his title. HOW DARE HE THINK HE COULD EVEN BREATHE THE SAME AIR AS HIS SON?! MUCH LESS COURT HIM!? OVER HIS DOUBLE DEAD BODY!

The only way for Theseus to understand WHY Hippolytus/reader likes Zagreus of all beings, is to use him and Asterius as an example. There he understands it, but he doesn't accept it.

Asterius, on the other hand, is much more chill about it and even approves of it, although he will definitely give Zagreus the shovel talk and assure him that if he does anything to the little prince, there will be no place in Elysium that is safe for him.

Like, Zagreus would be upset to have to go through Theseus to talk to his boyfriend, but he definitely takes advantage of the situation to make jokes about how Theseus is now his "father-in-law", making the Athenian king even more angry.

(Zagreus would definitely make the "your son calls me daddy too" joke.)

At the same time, Zag would be surprised at how good a father Theseus is when he is dead (and what he was like when he was alive, excluding the accident of course). Likewise, he would be happy to see that although Theseus is an idiot, he is not such a bad guy.

Zagreus definitely helps a little with the Hipolito/reader relationship when tensions are high, going into therapist mode again. and thanks to this I can see Theseus and Hippolytus/reader in the prologue making a good process towards healing.

I don't think there's any WAY IN HELL that Theseus will accept Zagreus as his son's mate, but with Asterius and Hippolytus/reader present, at least he's more...domesticated.

Hippolytus/reader: father! TELL HIM

Theseus: UHG, FINE....HELLspawn--ZAGREUS...WOULD YOU WANT TO STAY TO CELEBRATE THE VICTORY OF HIPPOLYTUS/READER?

Asterius: Do you want to stay forever?

Overall, it's a dysfunctional family, I'm not going to lie, but a happy one.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[estcaligo]

Spoilers for Book 7

Thanks to @/prince-kallisto for info and lore posts, very helpful :D

This thought just came to me:

Malleus, Silver, and Sebek in the future will be just like Meleanor, Raverne, and Lilia.

Sebek, being the strongest and most devoted warrior, becomes the Right General of Briar Valley. And Silver becomes a diplomat and possibly the Left General, like Raverne.

I definitely see Silver as a diplomat (especially in international relations) from Briar Valley.

He's a nobleman too, basically.

Also, Sebek will be following in Baul's footsteps, who became General after Lilia.

I can't see Sebek as a diplomat, though lol.

"Dragon's eyes" - Silver. "Dragon's hand" - Sebek :)

And who knows - maybe after Silver is gone, and some danger arises, Sebek will protect Malleus's egg just like Lilia did for Meleanor...

Remember Lilia saying "old friend who is no longer with us" about Raverne?

Now imagine Sebek saying this about Silver... :')

[wntrs0ldier]

An Offer II: Safe Haven · 01

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 5,3k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), a/n: if you see any mistake, please, close your eyes,,

series masterlist

series summary: The ride was bumpy, but in the end, you got your husband. Your marriage gave you protection, and your new husband shared with you his life, his Family, his wealth. His demons and his enemies. Only time can show whether it was worth it.

Although his scent had managed to wash off, you loved walking around in that soft, far too large robe of his. Leaving the bedroom – where you hadn't even slept an hour together, let alone the whole night – you put one over your shoulders and tied the belt. And, as you do every morning, you went to the kitchen, which, in practice, was your shared kitchen; except that not at the same time. You prepared the coffee, and with a mug in your hand headed to the living room; you leaned against the entrance frame and fixed your gaze on the couch, or rather on the person occupying it – Jerry. This time you remembered the name. You lifted the mug to your mouth, but your lips did not come into contact with the bitter, hot surface of the drink. 

Was there any limit to the amount of time you could miss someone who, given the short period of knowing them, shouldn't mean that much? And what could you be capable of to drown that feeling of abandonment?

A little more than a week was still missing and you could safely cross out the third month of Bucky's absence. This was not how you imagined the beginnings of your marriage, but you consoled yourself with the knowledge that it could have been much worse. On the other hand, it could also have been much better. To some extent, your life resembled the one you had led before your marriage and even before your father's death – you didn't have to worry about business; it was secure and had regained its former fluidity. Enough to calm Tony Stark down. You were able to concentrate mainly on your gallery, spend weekends with your friends or with Suzie. Everything went on with the old rhythm, with a few exceptions. You didn't date anymore, and turning down potential lovers came more easily to you. And you devoted Sunday afternoons and evenings to your new family – Winnifred would invite you to tea or dinner, and these activities became your marital duties. But you really felt more like a new purchase of the Barnes Family than a wife to Bucky – after all, you spent more time with them than with your husband.

But he still tried.

He called at least once every two, sometimes three days. You would have loved to call him every day, but you never did – you didn't want to disturb him, because you knew he was working hard. You heard how tired he was, so each time you asked him to get some sleep; you kept telling him that your day wasn't that interesting. But Bucky never relented – he claimed he liked listening to your voice.

Jerry twitched, opening his eyes, which automatically fell on you. For a split second, he seemed deathly terrified; you guessed that his mind sensed your gaze, and raised the alarm as a result. But Jerry was safe. At least for now.

“Did you sleep well?” You smiled slightly, perhaps a little meanly, then took a sip of coffee without dropping your gaze.

The young man immediately sat up and rubbed his face. “Oh God…” he gasped. “Don't tell Bucky. He’ll fucking murder me.”

“Don't worry. It can happen to anyone.”

“Has it happened to someone before me..?” he asked with hope.

You wrinkled your nose and shook your head, which made Jerry groan with dissatisfaction.

“Would you like some breakfast?” You raised your eyebrows.

“After something like that? No way, I'm out of here.”

You walked Jerry to the door.

“Please. I'm begging,” he said, almost hanging on the doorknob. “Don't tell Bucky. Don't tell anyone, because it will definitely get to him.”

You sighed heavily, holding back from rolling your eyes. It seemed to you that Jerry was exaggerating, but on the other hand he was white as a sheet, so you didn’t want to scare him more. “I won't tell anyone. I promise.”

“What..?” Connie stared at you with curiosity, and the fork on which she had scrupulously scooped one of each ingredient of her salad hung not far from her mouth.

As befits a wealthy wife abandoned by a husband absorbed in work, you had a lunch date with Connie and your two other friends, Victoria and Holly, who were close enough to you to know some of your secrets. As in the case of Connie, you didn't share with them all the details of your life, you didn't get them into the business you did, but they knew who you were. They also knew the character of your marriage; it was impossible to keep it a mystery when matters of the heart were an integral part of your conversations. And even if you could pretend that you and Bucky had something more in common – something by which people usually decided to take such a binding step as marriage – your girlfriends would have figured you out right away.

“Who’s Jerry?” Holly furrowed. 

You couldn't remember if she was there when you mentioned him for the first time. However, you didn't have a chance to dig up this information in your head – Victoria rushed to explain: “He's some sort of bodyguard. Is that right?” She glanced at you, and you nodded.

Some sort of bodyguard was a surprisingly accurate term for Jerry and the rest of the boys. Since Bucky was away from home and unable to look after your safety himself, he ordered his men to do so. With that, you got to know a handful of Bucky's most trusted soldiers, and every evening one of them sat in a car parked outside your apartment, watching the building and its surroundings. Every morning one of them drove you to work, in the afternoons they escorted you home or wherever you pleased. You were never alone. Even now, sipping wine in a fancy pub, you were under the watchful eye of one of them; he was sitting a few tables away and going over the menu for the fifth time, glancing in your direction from time to time. He took a seat at the other end of the room to avoid being noticeable, but your friends were fully aware of his presence. Besides, they weren't the only ones; he was quite a flashy item in a restaurant filled mostly with women dressed in pastels and beiges.

“Are you still okay with that? All that following?” Holly continued. 

“They don’t follow me.” You rolled your eyes, smiling lightly. It's not that you had been brainwashed into accepting the possessiveness or the desire to control your every move; you just understood what rules applied to your and Bucky's world. You also understood that your friends were not as aware, so your husband's security measures may have been deceptively similar to red flags. “Following someone tends to be done in secret from the person who is being followed, you know?” 

“What's up with Jerry?” Connie interrupted. “Did you sleep with him or not?”

“No, of course not,” you calmly denied. But instead of continuing to speak, you paused for a moment – a memory popped into your head; a memory of Bucky's prettily pink, parted lips as he savored your wet warmth. You swallowed hard, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. “He slept. On the couch. Alone.”

“A bodyguard should sleep on the job..?” Holly asked doubtfully.

“In theory, no. But whenever I was able to forget Jerry's presence somewhere around, I heard sneezing or sniffling.” You raised your eyebrows. “I was afraid that if I left him in the car overnight, he would faint from a fever or something. I invited him inside, or rather convinced him to come in, and he fell asleep on the couch. That's it.” You shrugged.

“You shouldn't have done that,” Victoria said, her forehead creased in worry. “You shouldn't invite strangers into your apartment. What if he would hurt you?”

“Uh, that's not exactly what bodyguards do.”

The rest of your lunch followed the pattern repeated at every meeting you've had for almost the last three months. Your girlfriends expressed their concern toward your relationship, and then smoothly moved on to other topics. This time a party you had little idea about. Not because they didn't include you; you just didn't hear a word. Absorbed in your own thoughts, you completely disconnected yourself from the place and the company. You reflected on the fact that you spent far more time with them, and even with the previously mentioned bodyguards, than with Bucky. It shouldn't have affected you on the scale it actually did – you were purely business partners who happened to have sex a few times. But all those things you promised each other before he left... 

On the one hand, they were somehow groundbreaking. On the other, they became blurred in this long separation. Besides…

Your eyes involuntarily rested on your hand. Despite being married, you still didn't have rings. You wore at least an engagement ring – an apparent sign of being taken, but Bucky? You couldn't be sure – away from home, away from New York, away from you – he wasn't taking advantage of the lack of a wedding band. Maybe he only called you in the evenings, drained, because his other life was consuming all his time and energy? You knew he couldn't be so vile to you, but maybe he was trying to protect you? Had he found someone in Italy and didn't want to break your heart? Maybe the bodyguards were not there to protect you, but to keep you from any potential surprise visit?

A sudden flash of sanity made you realize that you were becoming paranoid. You didn't have Bucky around; you couldn't look at him or talk to him freely, so you kept thinking about him. This, in turn, led you to newer and newer conclusions that you wouldn't normally even consider. Timothy got his way – he effectively punished you, because you were going through a living hell.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You were so deep in your own thoughts that you didn't even know who had spoken to you. All three – Connie, Victoria and Holly – were looking at you.

“Hmm?” you muttered, raising your eyebrows questioningly, although you could hear perfectly well what they wanted to know. “Oh, it’s… It’s nothing.” You shook your head with the abashed smile of someone caught in the act. “It's just... I miss him. Very much,” you said in order to justify your drifting away. You just didn't tell the whole truth; you didn't intend to torment your friends with your fears, because these were taken from panic, not a rational perception of things. 

“Do you like him in that way?” Holly smiled provocatively. 

Before you could explain that you would probably miss each of them just as much during such a long separation, Victoria cut you off again: “This is so sweet…” She almost melted. “Maybe you're not telling us something? Maybe you are at the boyfriend-girlfriend phase? Things like this can happen when two people are close. Even in a not-for-real-marriage, right?” She looked around at your faces for some confirmation of her words.

“I would know if we were at that phase,” you said immediately. 

“Not necessarily. This phase is not always clear. Not all people ask directly about dating, like, you know, as a couple. Sometimes you just fall into it. Unconsciously and naturally.” Vicky shrugged.

A short silence settled over the table. You reached for your glass of wine, and, staring unseeingly at some random point, emptied the rest of the drink in slow sips.

“I'll see you this weekend?” you finally spoke.

“As always. But maybe you should invite Jerry this time?” Connie grinned with amusement, and you gently kicked her under the table.

“Are you okay?” Steve's voice filled the inside of the car.

“I won't throw up here, if that's what you're asking,” you answered, taking your eyes off the side window to look at him. Steve’s mouth curved into a slight smile. 

You doubted that picking you up from a nightclub was his ideal scenario for a Saturday night, but at least he didn't waste the whole evening babysitting you. Admittedly, he was up for it, but you managed to convince him to give you some freedom. You still didn't mind round-the-clock security, but you got the impression that your friends were starting to feel a little uncomfortable. You couldn't accept that they weren't able to relax and enjoy your girls’ night out, and if you had any power to do so, you decided to use it. In return, you promised Steve that – after the party – you would wait for him like a good girl you were, and let him drive you home without saying a word.

Your head was still buzzing from the pounding music and people shouting to each other, and you felt this unpleasant dry stickiness in your mouth. It wasn't the worst state you could get yourself into, because although you hoped to get rid of the annoying, uncomfortable thoughts, you didn't want to completely knock yourself out of consciousness.

You were haunted by the same problems; fueled by longing and the absence of Bucky, who could ease your doubts. Besides, for the past few days you couldn't push away what Victoria said – leaving aside your marriage, could you and Bucky have been more than that? Before he left, he behaved as if you were, but did he allow the possibility or did he do all this because he felt an obligation to act as a husband should? Moreover, you didn't even know why you felt the need to find out all this; after all, you weren't hoping for anything. Other than an inherent affection, a weakness, an incomprehensible attachment and a natural human desire, you had no deeper feelings for Bucky. So what was your problem?

Mindlessly, your eyes wandered to Steve again. Sometimes you would return in memories to Bucky's words; to the moment when he joked that he could recommend you to Steve – you wondered how your life would have turned out then. You would certainly have experienced a completely different dynamic, because while Bucky was patient with you, Steve exceeded all expectations. But unlike Bucky, he behaved a little too formally, politely in your company; as if he didn't allow himself to show any flaws. This, in turn, partly let you guess what Bucky meant when he said: ‘I'm not a guy you marry. Steve is.’ With the warmth, caring and calmness radiating from him, Steve was something of a last step – he just reassured you that he was the right, safe choice; that he would create a stable environment not only for his potential wife, but also for his children.

Bucky, on the other hand, oozed the aura of a charming, slightly unpredictable boyfriend; he made everything still exciting and fresh; he allowed the belief that you both still had enough room for mistakes.

You closed your eyes and let out a heavy breath. Steve glanced at you, raising his eyebrow questioningly. “Still not throwing up,” you stated. For a brief moment, you had an urge to bombard Steve with questions; you wanted to know if Bucky had ever been in a serious relationship; if he thought Bucky would last in one. But that would only deepen your paranoia; besides, you weren't convinced about the idea of getting to know Bucky through the eyes of others.

When the car stopped in front of the apartment building, you got out, grabbing your purse and the high heels you had taken off earlier. You intended to make your way to the apartment barefoot, because you couldn't even imagine putting on those uncomfortable shoes again.

“Oh, sorry. I left some glitter in your car,” you said, noticing shimmering specks from your dress on the seat. To be fair, you also had glitter in your hair and on your skin, so you thought you were equally victimized. “Well, a lot of glitter actually…” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Turning off the engine, Steve gave you a smile. 

“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” you asserted right away, seeing him getting ready to leave the vehicle. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. A security guard is sitting inside, there are also some cameras…” You shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” 

Steve didn't insist – he kept providing you with this illusory sense of freedom. So you said goodbye and headed to the entrance, having previously promised to text him as soon as you crossed the apartment threshold. Steve's car disappeared only when you got inside the building. On your way to the apartment, you were thinking mainly about the contents of the fridge; for the last few hours your stomach had been getting only alcohol and salty snacks in really small portions – so now you were craving something decent.

As you slid the key into the lock, it refused to turn – the door was open. A wave of uneasy heat immediately swept over you, your stomach dropped. For a second you wanted to go back downstairs; perhaps Steve wasn't so far away yet, you could call him and wait with the security guard. Or outside. Anywhere, but not there. At the same time, you tried to keep a cool head and think rationally – what if you simply forgot to lock the door? After all, such things could happen. But there was no room in your life for such incidents. Bucky had you watched for a reason. 

In the end, you decided to take possibly the stupidest, yet least dramatic step – you cautiously went inside. There was pitch darkness everywhere, which normally didn't scare you, but now you had no idea what was hiding in it. Too paralyzed by fear, you didn't even think to locate the light switch. You moved ahead – telling yourself repeatedly that it was probably just your paranoia, that you had actually forgotten to lock the door. If not, you had an open escape route – all you had to do was run down the corridor and get out of the apartment, then take the stairs, not the elevator.

Noticing a small red light smoldering in the darkness somewhere from the living room, you froze in stillness. Your body went numb, so unable to make any further movements, you stared at the spot. A recognizable rustling sound reached your ears, and immediately afterwards the vivid light of a lamp burst in the room, shining down on the silhouette sitting beneath it. Your tired, frightened, alcohol-soaked mind refused to believe that it was Bucky in the chair. Not only because, given the length of his absence, you hadn't considered his return in the nearest days – he also looked a little different than you remembered. The first thing that caught your eye was his thick beard; technically, it covered half of his face. Still, you could easily see his mouth stretched in a lazy, amused smile. His hair also got a little longer, and he looked even bigger, even more beefy, but these changes were not so drastic – you picked them up because you knew Bucky's body very well.

He let out a puff of smoke from between his lips, then put out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray placed on the armrest. “Hi,” Bucky spoke, his voice a bit muffled by the smoke coming out of his nostrils. 

All negative feelings and real concerns were gone, but your heart was still racing like crazy. However, you weren't sure if it was due to the fear slowly leaving your body or at the sight of Bucky. You wanted to feel happy; you wanted to be able to get excited about the much anticipated return; you wanted to throw your arms around his neck, but in reality you felt really weak – on the verge of passing out. You dropped your shoes and purse on the floor, and rested your trembling hand on the doorframe.

“I scared you, huh?” He slightly tilted his head to the side.

“Yes,” you replied quietly; your voice still didn't feel steady enough, and your throat remained painfully tight.

“Good. You'll remember to take someone with you next time.” Bucky sounded strict and lecturing; as if he was about to bend you over his knee. 

You watched each other – you looked at him a little warily, not sure where you were really at, what you should say or do, and Bucky was sizing you up in no rush; he studied closely your skimpy, not very covering dress with a deep neckline.

“Where were you?” There was no hint of possessiveness, jealousy or anger in his voice; only pure curiosity. Just as during your phone conversations over the past months, he wanted to know about your day; he wanted to know everything. He could have asked his people, but he trusted you to tell him the whole truth.

“At the club. With my girls.” 

“Were there any guys..?”

You nodded, not taking your eyes off him. “As it is in clubs.” You shrugged. “Full of guys.”

“Poor fellas. Wish I could have seen their faces when they realized all they could do was look at the prettiest girl in all of New York.” Some boyish delight surfaced in his smile, and a pleasant warmth spread over your body. Why would he say all these things if there was any chasm between you? There was no chasm.

He didn't seem impatient, but watched you with gentle anticipation, and soon patted his thigh in an inviting manner. Without a second thought, you moved from your spot and finally straddled him. In all this longing, you forgot how good it felt to be surrounded by the warmth of his body, his scent; how much your body fitted into his, as his thighs felt like the most comfortable place in the world.

“I was kind of hoping you would be happy to see me.” Bucky winced barely noticeably. “Is this about me scaring you? I'm sorry,” he said with remorse, although just a moment earlier he was eager to teach you a lesson. He placed a tender kiss on your cleavage, and your skin burned in that spot. 

“I am happy,” you replied, smiling softly. You couldn't let him think otherwise. “I just-”

You wanted to confess all your fears to him, because you knew he would either confirm or get rid of them. But when Bucky lifted one of his hands to your face for a purpose you had no chance to know, your eyes caught the movement and registered something else. You quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand closer to get a good look at it. Bucky was wearing a wedding ring. And it appeared that he didn't put it on on the plane or right after he arrived; he must have already worn it in Italy, because when the ring slid a little higher, you noticed a pale, untouched by the sun mark that stood out on his tanned hand. 

“Got one for you, too.” Bucky smiled with satisfaction, but that gesture was sprinkled with a bit of caution. “And a few other things. But first, I'd rather hear what’s bothering you.”

You knew you should tell him; after all, a couple months earlier you yourself had made it clear to him that you needed to speak your minds more. But you didn't want to ruin the peaceful atmosphere. You were both too tired for this conversation. Besides, with or without explanations, you were no longer worried about your relationship – Bucky was here. Right by your side. And there was no sign that he was about to break your heart; unless he was about to crush it with affection.

“Nothing is bothering me,” you claimed with another tender smile, hoping that was enough to distract him from further attempts to get the truth out of you. “You surprised me. I thought I would be able to get ready for you coming, but instead, I'm a mess. A little bit drunk, sticky mess,” you said, which came easily, because you weren't actually lying; you imagined the conditions under which you would celebrate Bucky's return a little differently. Even with all your worries. “I thought it would be more, I don't know,” you shrugged, “perfect maybe..?”

Bucky seemed to accept this version. Perhaps because – considering his exhaustion – you produced far too many words for him to process. “The next time will be more perfect.” The smile lingering on his lips took on a lazy expression. 

You shook your head at his words. “There will be no next time, not in the near future,” you said with conviction, as if his unconventional schedule depended on you. “You're not going anywhere, because I'm not letting you.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “In that case, I can go out and come in again.”

“Alright, but you'll have to wait until I hang the banner and inflate balloons.” You raised your eyebrows. The lightness and playfulness surrounding you made you forget the past months. Your concerns and insecurities blurred in the way Bucky looked at you. “Now, show me what you brought me,” you added with theatrical excitement. 

“You little materialist…” Shaking his head with just as exaggerated disapproval, Bucky reached outside the chair and grabbed a paper bag. He placed it between your bodies, but you had no pressing need to look inside it. Instead, you watched Bucky almost with fascination; his movements as he slid his hand into the bag. When he pulled it out, his fingers were embracing a small, velour box. Having taken the object carefully, you opened it; the ring Bucky mentioned was waiting inside – a little narrower than the one he wore, but otherwise looked basically identical. “May I?” His gentle tone immediately caught your attention. Without thinking, you turned the box toward him; he pulled out the ring, grabbed your wrist gently to stabilize your hand, and slid the ring onto your finger. 

You stared at it, and when you lifted your gaze back to Bucky's face, you caught his eyes stuck on you. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

“It's just a little something I should have taken care of much sooner, huh?” he said, and the bag rustled again. Your lips parted in surprise and amazement when this time he took out a scented candle. He laughed softly as you grasped it right away, almost snatching it out of his hands; you guessed from its size and neat, minimalist label that it was one of the more expensive ones. 

“You remembered…” Still stunned that he had bought something with you in mind; something almost personalized, you glanced at him, but quickly returned your eyes to the tag. "Tuscan Dream of the Sun..." you read out loud, raising an eyebrow. You opened the lid and brought the candle to your nose.

“Is this how you imagined a Tuscan dream of the sun?” Bucky furrowed his forehead. In response, you moved the candle closer to his face. “I smelled it earlier,” he protested, nevertheless, he inhaled the scent instinctively. “I'm not sure what dreams of the sun smell like, but this smells like oranges. And vanilla.”

“Ohh, right,” you replied, enlightened by the answer you were looking for. “You're right…” You pulled the bag in your direction to put the candle back in it. In the process, you spotted another velour box. “Did you buy another ring? For your mistress?” you asked provocatively, but not angrily. 

“Mhm.” Bucky nodded with a sly, lazy smile resting on his lips. “You can take a peek. Tell if she will like it.” 

So you reached for the box – a little bigger, flatter than the previous one – and opened it. To your eyes appeared a necklace – a thin, delicate chain with a gemstone in a light, icy shade of blue. 

“And?” Bucky asked softly. “Does she like it?”

Without taking your gaze off the necklace, you nodded. “It's really pretty,” you answered in a hushed voice and looked at Bucky. “What's the occasion?”

“No occasion. It's just a gift. So I can keep an eye on you.” He shrugged gently, lifting the corner of his mouth in a not particularly enthusiastic expression. Only then did you realize what the color of the stone reminded you of – Bucky's irises.

For a brief moment he said nothing more, watching you put on the necklace; how you fastened it in front of your face and then turned the lock back, making the pendant rest on your neckline. 

“I'm sorry,” he spoke in a more serious tone. His hand slid over your bare calf, and combined with the contrite, even pained expression on his face, the gesture seemed extremely tender to you. “For not being here. You agreed to marry me, and then I left you alone. For so fucking long-”

“Hey.” You put your hands on his cheeks, casting a determined look on his helpless eyes. “You had no choice. Okay?” In response, Bucky nodded barely noticeably. “It was hard for me, that's true. But the fault doesn't lie with you. It never even crossed my mind,” you stated firmly. You chose to ignore the fact that a bunch of other, more or less disturbing things popped into your head while he was gone. “And I'm not saying this because I'm your wife, and it's my job to support your every decision. I'm saying this because you didn't do anything wrong. I'm saying it because I understand.”

He turned his gaze away and chewed on his bottom lip nervously. There was still a look of worry on his face telling you that Bucky didn't quite believe your words. He was completely different when you found him in the apartment, and you didn't know what had happened during those several minutes. Maybe he remembered all the responsibility and effort that comes with being a husband? Whatever it was, it spread in his mind like a poison you didn't know the cure for. You couldn't get into his mind, and he didn't want to make his thoughts available to you in any other way. Or, perhaps, after all, he sensed that there was something you didn't want to tell him, and he returned the favor?

Despite your slight resignation, you plastered a weak smile on your face and tucked a strand of Bucky's hair behind his ear. He closed his eyes, accepting this tender gesture; absorbing its warmth. “You’re tired,” you remarked. “You should go to bed-” You rose gently with the intention of getting off his thighs, but Bucky's hands quickly found their way to your hips; he held you down, pressing you back against his body. He gazed at you again, a little calmer this time, and with a visible exhaustion that you were absolutely right about. 

He reached up to touch your cheek, his fingers slipped into your hair. He pulled you in carefully, then pressed your lips together in a delicate kiss; as if testing whether you still accepted his mouth on yours. When, without much thought, you welcomed and reciprocated the kiss, he slipped his tongue into your mouth – he remembered your taste, and when he realized how much he loved it, he let out a low grunt. Pleasant warmth spread throughout your body in a devastating wave – it almost completely washed away any barriers.

He soon pulled away from you. “You are tired, too. And a little drunk, right?” He asked, studying your face intently. 

You nodded, not intending to deny it. Bucky drew you to him again; this time he placed a tender kiss on your forehead. You dropped your eyelids, feeling a peace spreading throughout you. He may not have been your boyfriend, or your not-for-real-husband, but he was your home, your safe haven.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

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[atlantis-is-burning]

Dead Boy Detectives Cancelation

So in light of the heartbreaking news of Dead Boy Detectives getting canceled, I decided to write a letter to @netflix It's the first time I've ever felt compelled to reach out to a major company regarding their services but I wanted them to know how much the show means to us as fans and what they're taking away from us by canceling it.

For me, the show was a literal life-saver. Without going into too much detail, I was in a very dark place prior to its release and it was the only thing that helped me through it. That and meeting all of you =)

I don't know what impact it will have, if any, but if you would like to write a letter to Netflix as well letting them know what the show meant to you, I would definitely do so. Our community may be small compared to other fandoms but we are passionate and devoted to this show and they deserve to hear from us.

I've attached the letter below the cut for anyone who would like to read it and believe me, I'm not trying to medal in the tragedy Olympics with the intro, it's just a fact of what happened.

Maybe the show helped you in ways you couldn't imagine. Maybe it made you feel better about yourself or something that occurred in the past. Maybe it was just a fun comfort show for you that you really enjoyed. Whatever the reason, this show brought out the best in people and made the world feel just a little bit kinder for a while and I will never forgive Netflix for taking that away.

To whom it may concern,

On April 29th, I sat down and watched the first episode of the Dead Boy Detectives. 

I had heard good things about the show since its release a few days earlier, that it was fun and campy and easy to watch, but for me I was hoping it would be a distraction. A very close friend of mine passed away without warning on December 30th; she was just there one day and gone the next. The first half of the year was spent helping her family get her affairs in order while trying to process our shared grief and figure out how we could move on without her. 

I didn’t begin to feel like myself again until late March and by then it was only a fraction of who I had been before her passing. So when I sat down and pulled up the first episode of the Dead Boy Detectives, the only goal I had in mind was to pass a few hours watching a silly supernatural mystery show and think about something other than this sense of loss and imbalance that had settled over me.

It was the first time I smiled in nearly three weeks and it was the first time I laughed since December.

I watched the entire series, start to finish, in one night. Then I went back and watched it again the next day. And again a few days later. And for the first time since her passing, I felt like my friend was still there somehow, like we were watching it together. It was exactly the kind of show she would have loved when she was alive, flamboyant and silly with a touch of romance and mystery, so on my fourth rewatch of it, I sat on my couch with a picture of the two of us cradled in my lap, watching a show I know she would have enjoyed and feeling just the tiniest bit of my grief fade.

It was through the Dead Boy Detectives that I found a community online, a group of people who loved the show just as much as I did. We traded theories and ideas about the episodes, we excitedly welcomed new members who had just finished it and encouraged others to watch it in the meantime. We set up forums and threads on Reddit, we messaged each other, we embraced this silly, quirky show so much that it became a safe haven for a lot of us, it became a comfort series. We saw ourselves in this show and these characters and for many of us it gave us a sense of fellowship and belonging in a world where that feels more rare by the day.

And then it got canceled and for many of us, it felt like a slap in the face for the fans.

While I don’t claim to know the metrics on which a show’s success and renewal odds are based or what formula is used to determine ratings, I do know you didn’t see the fandom we created for ourselves because of this show. 

There are artists who make the most breathtaking art pieces you’ve ever seen, writers who bring you to tears with their works, and creators who painstakingly and lovingly created playlists and mood boards for each of the characters, matching them with songs and snippets of poetry that fit so perfectly it felt like it was made for them. There are fans who cosplay so well it looks like they borrowed the costumes directly from the production team and some who make jewelry and charms and trinkets that sell out almost before they complete them.

We engaged with the stars as well, wanting them to know how much we loved the show and these characters and how grateful we were to have watched them. We set up Q&As and asked them questions through Cameo, all the while thanking them for their work in bringing these characters to life. This show meant so much to us and we wanted them to know just what an impact they had had on more people than they ever could have imagined.

We were well aware of Netflix’s reputation of canceling shows based on poor viewership so we went in and organized weekly watch parties in an effort to increase the number of new viewers. We promoted it on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram, creators made videos for it on TikTok, and we created an entirely new tag on social media to bring more attention to this show we all loved so much.

Early on, there were several comments from people who said they were hesitant to even watch it; they had been burned before and didn’t want to get deeply involved with a new show that would turn into yet another “one season wonder.” We did our best to reassure them and convince them that this time it would be different; it wouldn’t be like all the shows that had been cut down before it could ever really develop. Since it was tied in with DC and The Sandman Universe, we promised them that maybe this time we could save it, maybe this time it would be enough.

And it was still canceled.

On Friday, August 30th, ten minutes after the news broke that Dead Boy Detectives had been canceled, I canceled my Netflix subscription. Netflix was the first streaming service I ever signed up for and today it is the only streaming service I have ever canceled. And, after watching the fallout in our little online community, watching the actual grief people were experiencing because of the cancellation, and scrolling through pages upon pages of outraged fans who swore they would never watch another program on Netflix and vowed to cancel their subscription that day, I can see that my decision was justified.

You have no idea the impact this show had on its viewers and you have no idea the impact you had when you took it away. We had people admit that the show helped them come to terms with their sexuality, helped them process deep-seated trauma, helped them love and accept themselves for who they were. We knew the Dead Boy Detectives would never be a runaway hit like Stranger Things or Bridgerton but we hoped and prayed that it would stick around just a little while longer, that we could enjoy these characters and their stories for even one more season before they were gone for good. 

For you it may have been just a silly little ghost show that was little more than a blip on the radar but for a lot of us it was so much more than that, it meant so much more than that.

I am under no illusions that this email will make a difference or that it will bring the show back from cancellation but I wanted you to know what an incredible and amazingly talented fandom you are leaving behind in its wake. These are people who put their heart and soul into the art they create and the words they put on paper and all we wanted was a chance to see that continue.

We are tired of being drawn into a program and falling in love with the characters with no guarantee that our viewership and involvement actually means anything. We are tired of begging for complex characters and the representation we crave in media only to have the rug jerked out from under us once we finally get it. We are tired of hoping and praying and campaigning to save a show that should easily be renewed for several seasons or, at the very least, a season two. 

We are tired of feeling like we’re being taken advantage of as fans, that the passion and excitement we have toward these shows and their stars, the kind of involvement you claim to want, is dismissed with little regard toward the fans of the show itself.

We are your audience and we are tired.

We will continue to love and cherish this show and these characters, without your involvement, and give them a much longer life than they ever had on your platform. This show, the cast and crew, and the fans deserve better than what you gave them and I hope you understand the tremendous amount of talent and passion you’re throwing away in your fan base.

With regards,

-M

[reddesires]

HIIIIII I’m here to begin my journey of blowing up your inbox 💖💖💖

Do you write romantic head cannons for Raka from Pota? If so then may you make some for if he had a really cuddly human mate, I deadass just want to lay on him and give him kisses

Raka x Human!Reader

A/N: Thank you for the request. I hope you like your cutie patootie Raka fluff ❤️ he's a sweetheart, Maurice and Raka are definitely the most wholesome characters to me.

•When you first met Raka, he's completely fascinated by your presence. Absolutely elated to have found a intelligent human, he's only ever seen the feral humans and read the history of them in books, he never thought he would come face to face with something he thought was impossible of ever encountering.

•You two bond over the excessive books he's collected for who knows how long, you tell him things you have experienced throughout your life, he's always so enthusiastic about everything you tell him or show him.

•You initiate on showing affection to Raka, grabbing his hand when exploring and hugging him when needing comfort, Raka is more than happy to accommodate his Human friend, but deep down, he feels a little more strongly.

•When your friendship grows into a more romantic aspect is when he begins asking questions on 'What does Love mean to humans?' And you tell him truthfully, what you think love means to humans. It's when he asks 'what does love mean to you?' Is when it really makes you think that about him that way.

•Naturally the love between you grew fonder, and you finally became newly established mates. Your nights consisted of cuddles and conversations of which book you read recently. You showed him the different ways you showed affection. Lovingly hugging his arm into your chest, your face nuzzling into his auburn fur, and the kisses you press against him muzzle.

•When sleeping in your nest, it's become custom that you basically sleep on top of him. Cuddling onto him to be as close as physically possible, he hugs you into him in return, admiring the size difference between the two of you, his arms protectively wrapping you in his radiating warmth.

•Raka learned to be romantic from reading romance novels, one night he shows you just that. While you were immersed by the words in the chapter you were reading Raka suddenly extends his hand out to you so of course you take it, the firelight bouncing off your figures as he pulls you into him swaying side to side. Though there isn't any music playing, the atmosphere and the look of admiration in his eyes makes your heart swell.

•You motivate him to adventure out of the haven, before he was a hermit banishing himself within the confines of his books but now that your with him with your bigger than life presence, he felt you deserved more than a life of hiding so traveling out to watch the sunset and star gaze was an almost daily endeavor. He also agrees to explore new areas that pique your interests but also taking in account of danger so he'll go as far as scouting it out first before bringing you.

•Your most favorite pastime is sling to yourself over his shoulder so you could indulge into the book he's so devoted to, now able to recite the words of Caesar and have heavily detailed conversations with him since you took the time to learn about his most talked about interest. You have found your home in the arms of Raka, so you'll spend all your time making yourself his home.