#but I hope this is helpful to you or anyone else who wants to start out!!!

[genderqueerdykes]

I'm going to start throwing a tantrum if the popular leftist YouTubers keep saying Trans Women when talking about the effects of Trump's policies that very much can and do harm and kill trans men. Like I don't get it? What is the point of specifying trans Women every time they talk about broader trans issues? Do they even realize they're doing this?

this is a really good ask, thanks for taking the time to say it! that makes me really glad i don't watch anything even remotely political or related to queer topics on youtube. i'm not sure how other people can do it, it's entirely too stressful and it's way more common than not that people just end up getting sucked up into petty drama instead of talking about the queer experience or helping other queer people.

i have to be honest to god about this behavior: it's virtue signalling mixed with genuine trans(andro)phobia. the vast majority of it is straight up just virtue signalling and it's old as fuck. it is super obvious and i have no idea how people think they're doing anything good by behaving this way. this is a way for people to make Themselves feel better because they're patting themselves on the back for being sooooooooo progressive and sooooooo good to trans women. people want to look like a great ally to transfems without actually being one.

it's fucking annoying as hell and it's being done on purpose to show that that person doesn't give a singular shit about trans men or anyone else and is literally just sucking up to trans women in the hopes of gaining brownie points and looking more progressive. like it's glaringly apparent that people think that trans woman is the only way to be trans, can we call this bullshit for what it is? "trans person" does NOT mean "trans woman". if you want to specifically talk about trans women, just say that. don't do this weird thing where you're like "oh this is gonna affect trans people!" and then immediately say it as trans women.

trans women are not the only trans people. fucking stop this behavior. you are doing this on purpose. you are leaving out trans men on purpose for the sake of trying to look progressive and like you care about trans rights. all you're doing is proving that you are transphobic af and are only doing this to either suck up to trans women, or for trans women to intentionally erase trans men and completely leave them out of the conversation. like sometimes it IS trans women doing this and we HAVE to call it out. trans women can and do participate in transmasc erasure. we have to pretending that trans women can't hurt trans men, transmascs, nonbinary people, genderqueer people and all other kinds of trans people.

i 100% agree with you. if we're talking about trans issues in general why do people ONLY say trans women and that's it? i don't know how to say it any other way than transphobic legislature hurts every single trans person. every single one. masc, femme, both, something else altogether. all of us are affected. what about genderfluid people? what about bigender people? what about transfems who aren't women? what about agender people? what about transneutral people?

trans does not mean "Trans women and trans women only". stop this behavior. we GET it. you wanna LOOK like you care about trans women. we GET that you want to suck up to us for Progressive Brownie Points. like people really think we can't see this shit. people really think that we cannot tell that people are pandering to us just so they can pat themselves on the back for looking like they care about trans rights. we can fucking see that you're doing this to try to get the transfems in your life to think highly of you while you're not actually helping them at all.

i need people to understand that transfems and trans women are aware of how fucking phony this shit sounds, even when it's coming from other transfems and trans women. like we are nowhere near as dumb as y'all think we are. i honestly find it really fucking nasty that people think that trans women are too dumb to tell when people are just sucking up to us to try to make themselves look better. if you ask me, this behavior is just as transmisogynistic as it is transandrophobic, exorsexist and just transphobic in general.

you can't leave out every other single trans person for the sake of trying to gain rights for trans women. it's all of us, or none of us. leaving other trans people out of the discussion will not make trans womens' lives better or easier. we don't want this. stop it.

[utopiastri]

Put That Guy in a SituationTM - look something about Landoscar in a 20/32 type situation has me hooked….trying to not let others on to their predicament, maybe it’s a bit embarrassing how it happened 🤔

hi anon!!! thank you for the prompt! i went a smidge away from my usual cutesy fluff for this one - your suggestion of embarrassment really sparked something in my brain, even if i took it in a slightly different direction. i hope you enjoy!!!

(prompt list here)

“Look, we just gotta act natural,” Lando says.

Or, well, Lando-as-Oscar says, because it sounds like Oscar’s voice and it’s Oscar’s mouth that’s moving, but it’s Lando that’s actually saying the words and–

Lando-in-Oscar’s-body huffs. “You’re having a crisis again aren’t you?”

“You know it’s weirder of you to be 100% ok with this.”

“It’s a body swap curse, mate, it’s not rocket science.”

Oscar runs a hand through his hair and cringes at the uncanny feeling of there being someone else’s hair on top of his head. “I understand the concept, Lando, what I’m struggling with is everything else related to it like, I don't know, how the fuck this happened."

“I don’t know. Do you reckon we need to have sex to break the curse?”

“What?” Oscar squawks, “Why would we need to have sex to break the curse?”

Lando flushes. “I dunno. Just felt like the right solution.”

“Based on what?”

Lando mumbles something about seeing it online once and Oscar chooses to ask no more follow-up questions lest Lando tells him he learnt about it from some random porn he watched once. He heaves a sigh.

“Listen, like you said, we should just act normal. This whole thing is,” Oscar pauses to search for the right word, “Strange. And I’d really rather not bring anyone else into it to begin with.”

“Agreed,” Lando says before adding, “Hey, if we’re still like this for the race tomorrow and I win but in your body, does that mean you get the points?” Oscar glares at him and Lando pouts. “It’s a genuine question!” he whines.

Oscar’s about to point out they have bigger things to focus on than the effects of this on a race when Jon sticks his head into the room.

“Debrief in five, guys.”

“Sounds good, mate,” Lando says, in an accent no human being has ever used before.

Jon blinks at him. He turns to look at Oscar. Or, rather, he turns to look at Oscar who he thinks is Lando. Oscar smiles weakly.

“He’s, uh, trying to do an impression of me doing an Australian impression," Oscar lies, hoping it sounds vaguely believable.

“Oi!” Lando says, “My Australian accent’s mint.”

“Yes, Oscar,” Oscar says pointedly, “Your Australian accent would be mint because you are from Australia.”

Lando's eyes light up in realisation and he starts nodding furiously. “Right, yep, what he said, exactly.”

Jon blinks at both of them this time. He sighs.

“If you two are doing roleplay, I don’t want to hear about it.” Lando and Oscar both start spluttering, but Jon keeps on talking over both of them. “Just be on time for debrief.”

With Jon gone, Oscar breathes a sigh of relief. Or he starts to, until Lando pipes up.

“I still reckon us having sex will fix it.”

Oscar reminds himself that if he kills Lando right now, he’s possibly going to do irreparable damage to his own body.

The thought’s still tempting.

“Is there a particular reason you’re so desperate to have sex with yourself?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

Lando clearly wasn't expecting that question because he freezes. Oscar’s always hated how easily he flushes but right now, watching it brutally incriminate Lando, he can’t help but be grateful for it.

“I’m not fucking desperate to have sex with myself.” He doesn't sound like he's lying, but the blush on his face suggests he's not telling the whole truth.

Maybe…

His eyebrows raise. “So you’re only desperate to have sex with me then?”

Lando looks up at Oscar, eyes wide. He swallows.

Got you, Oscar thinks to himself.

[wolfypup65676]

Had to come back to this because I just couldn't stop thinking about this idea... -- Peter shivered, pulling his ratty hoodie tighter around him. He took a quick glimpse at his phone's map and looked up at the awfully tall gate.

Gotham Cemetary

He shoved his phone in his pocket and rubbed his hands together, trying to heat them up a bit. He was starting to regret coming out here, it was dark and cold, and Peter was dead broke and couldn't thermoregulate properly--

But he had to see him. Peter had to see Uncle Ben for himself, had to see his grave. Even if he wasn't Benjamin Parker anymore, even if he was a whole lot younger than Peter had ever known him, even if Jason Todd wasn't really his uncle, Peter had never been able to deny himself of his biggest regret, had never been able to wash his hands clean of the man who raised him for a whopping 10 years.

Peter had to see it, had to see him, because he had nothing else.

He grabs onto the gate, shuddering at the coldness of the iron bars, and he climbs. Carefully, he climbed down the other side.

The cemetery was full of graves and spindly trees, leaves gone in preparation of the upcoming harsh winter. Peter's teeth chattered, winter, right, he forgot about that.

Why did he have to come here during winter? Why could've he have dropped in during, oh, he doesn't know, spring?!

Focus, Peter. He takes a deep breath. We're here to see Uncle Ben, and nothing else. Worry about how to survive later.

The graves and trees surrounding him were imposing, staring at him, as if knowing he wasn't meant to be here. Peter hunched in on himself more, guilt gnawing at his heart.

You don't belong here, they seemed to say, why are you here?

His walk came to a stop as he finally spotted what, or rather, who, he was looking for.

Here lies Jason Todd

Peter crouched in front of the grave, hand hovering over the words. His face crumbled and he could feel the weight of everything crashing into him like a bullet train.

"Hey, Uncle Ben." He said, voice cracking. "How have you been?"

He could almost imagine it, could see Benjamin Parker staring at him with worry in his eyes, mouth forming soundless words.

"Peter?" He would say, hovering over Peter like if he moved too suddenly, he would break. "Why are you at my grave, kid? What's wrong?"

"I know you don't know me, but I'm your nephew."

Uncle Ben would take him into his arms and offer to talk, or to read one of the classics sitting on the bookshelf if he didn't feel like talking.

Peter wondered if Jason Todd would hug him the same way. Would he look at Peter with the same, overwhelming love in his eyes?

"I'm Peter Parker, it's nice to meet you, this you." Peter settles in the dirt. "I guess I should call you Uncle Jason, shouldn't I?"

Or maybe, this Jason would look at him like he's a monster. Eyes wrack full of disappointment to the person that Peter's become.

"I really hope you like me, but it's okay if you don't." Peter stares at his hands, "I just... I didn't know where else to go."

The grave remains silent. But if Peter focuses hard enough, he could pretend Uncle Ben was there, tugging him into his side, reassuring him that he could come visit him whenever he wanted.

"I'm homeless, dead broke, I have no idea where I am or anything about this place, and did I mention I'm like, five?" Peter laughs at his own misery "You'd think life would give me a break! Stupid Parker Luck."

Peter got up and brushed the dirt off his jeans, but he couldn't bring himself to leave, because leaving meant leaving Uncle Ben and the little bubble of comfort he always provided. Leaving meant going back into Gotham, cold, alone, and starving.

He knows he should leave. He knows it's a horrible idea to stay here, where anyone could find him out in the open. He'd be exposing himself to the elements and he should really be finding a place to stay. But he couldn't help but feel like a little kid again, crawling into Uncle Ben and Aunt May's bed as he sobbed about his parent's death, afraid to be left alone.

"Hey... Uncle Jason?" He murmurs, "Do you think I could stay with you? Just for tonight? It doesn't have to be long! I'll leave before the sun rises, I promise."

It's a horrible idea, he keeps telling himself. Yet he can't stop himself from curling up next to Uncle Ben's, Uncle Jason's grave.

"Just... let me sleep for a little while." He says, vision starting to blur and darken.

"Go to sleep, Peter." He could imagine Uncle Ben saying, "I'll keep you safe from the monsters, promise."

And Peter goes to sleep.

DC/Marvel Peter Parker in Gotham AU where Dick Grayson is Peter's bio dad, and Jason is Uncle Ben.

Peter finds himself in another world where Ben exists only for him to be dead here too. Peter is lost, alone in a world he knows nothing about and has no one to talk to. Even if he starts making friends he can't tell them the truth about being from another universe. And yeah his bio parents exist here, but what is he supposed to tell them? He would just sound crazy, better to avoid them.

But he needs to talk to someone, so Jason's grave becomes a place where he can vent and reminisce.

[graciedollie]

Hii, sorry for sending so many requests but you have the best writing on this app and I can't imagine asking for anyone else. I would like you to do one in which the reader is an artist who makes Brazilian "baroque" paintings, but is embarrassed to show them because they are very expressive, until Grayson sees one of them and is amazed, sorry for the very specific request!, I saw your other one chefGrayson's post and wanted to order one too do this in your own time!❤️‍🩹

Grayson x Artist!Reader

warnings:nothing too drastic honestly, completely sfw and takes place in modern au

a/n: sorry for not posting a whole lot, just been burnt out and busy handling school :( hope you enjoy bby

you were a bit embarrassed with the art you’ve created. People would have a tendency to say your art piece is too…’expressive’ or ‘too out there for their liking’—which you wanted them to be expressive. baroque paintings have always caught your heart and you’ve spent long periods of time trying to conjure a beautiful piece similar to that; specifically the Brazilian Baroque painting styles. It brought you a sense of comfort and tranquility whenever you would just let your mind take over the brush and just relax.

It felt as if art was your place of sanctuary (that is when someone did open their mouth with nagging about how your art is too expressive and explicit)

It took you a while to become more comfortable at sharing your art, especially to the great world of social media. You would start to, first, post your artwork on tiktok. It went ok, but you would have some comments, such as: “oh…” “oh! that’s not…” “oh honey no.” and etc. It was tiktok for fuck’s sake, what did you expect. It was a little downing to have comments like that, but you would have other comments that would hype your artwork and even encourage you to post more, which you did, but you were just a bit hesitant..

A few days would go to pass and you’d become more comfortable with sharing your art on other platforms, tiktok, facebook, etc. You name it. Ofc there were some slightly mean comments, but you’ve gotten more positive ones and it made you feel a whole less shitty about what you were passionate about. Seeing the lovely comments showing you love and support with your art, that would be deemed as too expressive, made you feel so soooo much better and you couldn’t be more grateful for the support <3!!

Despite some of the comments being complete assholes.

One day, you needed to get some pain and brushes for this new artwork you wanted to try out and you were honestly ecstatic about it!! You stop by a new shop that seller some of the best paint called ‘Artistic Haven’. You’ve passed it multiple times, but never really had the chance to stop by—and boy did you wish you did sooner.

As you stumble into the nice shop with a sense of lavender and shaved wood hitting your nose, enjoying the warm aroma wafting to your nose. A woman, who appeared to be much older, turned to you with a welcoming smile etched on her lips—causing pretty smile lines to grace her skin. “Well, hello, Dear. How can I be of help, hm?” Her voice was raspy and husky, loving the way she used the sweet name in such a tone.

You’d tell her the stuff you needed and she was happy to help you pick out what you needed. As she was doing so, she couldn’t help but notice the way you would stare at her for longer than a couple seconds, but she just brushed it off with a chuckle “So, if I may ask, what do you like to paint, hm? I’m sure a woman as yourself can really create some great stuff, yes?” She had a sweet smile etched on her lips as her brow was raised while she handed you the items necessary—oil paint, new canvases, and other miscellaneous.

It felt like you were out on the spotlight with the sudden ask, but it was not big deal. You just felt a bit off since you knew how people would react if they saw your artwork and you did not want to embarrass yourself on the fine morning of 10:54 am. Though, she seemed sweet enough and wouldn’t judge—hopefully. “I, um…I actually like to paint Brazilian baroque paintings. I just like to recreate some or just do some on my own..” You admitted with a sheepish smile, noticing the way her brows raised with curiosity and was intrigued. “Mm, that’s sounds quite nice. Do you have any photos of your work? If it’s not an issue, I’d like to see.”

You could practically feel the stupid grin appearing on your face atp.

Your breath hitched your throat at her words before giving her a firm nod with a sheepish smile as you pulled your phone out, showing her the various amount of work you’ve created and poured tears and sweat in. Your eyes darted between the phone and her, trying to gauge her expression as she squinted her eyes to see the many of pictures. With a couple of minutes looking, an approved hum slipped from her lips as she gave you a sweet smile, “These pieces are absolutely gorgeous. You definitely have a gift, dear.”

She couldn’t help but adore the way you really captured that baroque style. The use of contrast, intense emotion, grandeur, and the way you drew the naked body gracefully. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t find your art absolutely stunning and very telling. She absolutely loved seeing how much dedication and effort into such a art piece—even the difficult ones. She loved to see one who shows effort and dedication to something they love and express themselves into. That’s what art mean to her, even though she didn’t do much painting herself.

The way her eyes stared into yours and the sound of her voice practically praising you, it felt as if your stomach would explode with the amount of fluttering that was occurring. A small chuckle slipped from your lips as you put your phone away, shrugging with a soft scoff. “Thank you…i’ve just been hesitant on showing people my work..” “Why is that, if I may ask?”

You glanced over at her as you two began to walk over to the register to check all your items, chuckling nervously as you shrugged again, “They’re too…expressive. That’s what people say most of the time.” She started to scan your items with quick precision before bagging them up and handing over the bag with a warm smile. “They’re expressive in the best way. You’ve got a precious gift, love and a good heart also. Your art only captures the beauty of things on the deeper end and that what makes art ‘art’, my dear.”

You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t want to just hug her right then and there, because you did. This random lady just gave you the most encouraging words and she probably doesn’t even realize it. A stupid grin tugged at your lips as you took your bag, looking over at her with a softened gaze. “Ya know, rather you realize it or not, you’ve certainly made my week.” Your words earned a hearty chuckle from her, feeling the way your heart quickened at the sound.

“That so? I’m honored to do such.” She leaned against the counter with a small smirk etched on her face, scanning over you with an observing gaze. You bit your lip as you fought to not embarrass yourself and you barely managed. “You have a name?” You mentally slapped yourself. Of course she had a damn name. She chuckled softly at your words, “Grayson, dear. And yours?” You told her your name and she gave a warm smile, “a pretty name for a pretty lady as yourself.”

oh yeah, you’d definitely be coming back again and again.

this might’ve been a bit shitty but we’re slowly gettin back in the groove 🫶🏾 hope you enjoyed bby’s!!

taglist!!

@thesevi0lentdelights

[saessenach]

Thinking many thoughts about Miss Andarateia Cantori tonight because what do you mean we get to be in her house for the entire game, in which she and her boyfriend/partner-in-crime run a gambling den, assassin guild ANd find the time to argue with the public administration while opposing a military occupation?? who does it like her??

Joke aside, I think she's an incredibly fun character, and I'm really happy that hers was the lens through which we saw the Crows this game. Whenever I see random posts and critiques commenting that the Crows were too "sanitised" or "found-family", I want to yell a bit, because DATV never claims that to be the case!! Obviously everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but what we see is anchored in a very specific context: not just Treviso under Antaam occupation, but also the Cantori Diamond, which falls under Teia's jurisdiction.

She's an elven orphan turned Guildmaster and Talon, who desperately wanted to find family in the Crows! While the other Talons resisted her attempts at every step (some more succesfully than others ksks), that implies 1) her approach towards her own House was probably not dissimilar and 2) it got her the Talon position in her 20s. Ergo, her modus operandi was probably fairly successful.

For all that she threatens to evict anyone who treats her like a landlord (lol), the Diamond is very much a reflection of her as a character. It's all completely in line with both her general characterisation in 8 Little Talons and with the point she reaches at the end of that story when confronting Emil. I don't think it's a coincidence that out of our two POVs in 8LT, she's the one discussing Crow ideology with their would-be-murderer:

and

and

Following this particular set-up, of course orphans like Jacobus are treated kindly; of course fledglings have time to gossip in quiet corners while training; of course she helps the Dellamortes however she can?? She decided these people are family to her, and she wants to do better by them than what she got. This is wildly compelling to me personally, because she's such a delightful mix of idealism and disillusionment, honesty and manipulation, compassion and retribution - and she's so fucking obstinate about it!!!

There's also the little connection with the Crows' beginnings, specifically in Treviso. Iirc, it's mentioned in 8LT that her base is Rialto (she's also got gardens there), so a part of me wonders whether the Diamond was an inherited property from a previous Cantori Talon, or whether she got it up and running between then and the events of the game. I think that between that little tibdbit and with Lucanis being named First Talon at the end of the game, it's pretty obvious that the theme of rebirth is very much the point in the Crows' plotline - a messy, hopeful and spiteful rebirth.

All of this is to say, what we get doesn't at all negate the other aspects we've seen from the Crows in previous games, but rather puts them into perspective. The game just goes on to ask - isn't there another way to do this? what else is there room for us to be? is there any chance we might find some kindness in this world? and one of the ways these answers are explored is through Teia's character (we start this series with Zevran's story within the Antivan Crows - an elven orphan bought from a brothel, who doesn't have the power to change this guild, and end with Lucanis, Viago and Teia, who is, specifically, an elven orphan picked up (?) from the streets, who remains one of the powerhouses of the organisation. I love a bit of narrative symmetry ✨)

And honestly, I find this entire thing delightful - it's cheeky and dramatic and a lot of fun, and it makes sense for these characters, if you only sit with it for a second and give it a bit of thought!

(PS the way she draws Viago into her orbit and the way their partnership works is another rant entirely, and they drive me absolutely insane nghhh)

[crowsofdarkness]

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Four

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

The sheets were cold, warmth fleeting a long time ago, and I cuddled the pillow closer to my chest as I tried to think it was something else. 

Someone else. 

Tears had stained the pillowcase multiple times and no matter how many times it was washed, the tears remained. The soft, quiet sobs that I tried to keep to myself, hoping I wouldn’t wake the others. But I knew that no matter how quiet I was, there was always one person there to help dry the tears. 

The first few nights were the roughest, crying out his name in my dreams. Nightmares. I couldn’t sleep because I would always see his face, his ghost haunting me. I refused to leave the room because I didn’t want to see anyone. Nat had tried bringing me something to eat a couple of times but when she came back hours later to the untouched plate still in the same spot outside the door, she gave up. 

We were all grieving, I knew that, but they didn’t know that I was grieving something extra. No one understood the pain I had gone through. 

No one. 

I knew that they were all busy looking for Thanos to undo the snap but they were all idiots. We barely made it out alive and now they want to go after him again? With less numbers? Half of the world had vanished in the snap, it was a ghost town out there. 

Again, idiots. 

Rolling over to the other side of the bed, my broken eyes glanced up to the adjacent bathroom in the room. The body stood in front of the mirror, contemplation clear on his face. He looked from the mirror to the object in his hand. His muscles tensed underneath his tank top as he leaned closer to the mirror, making his decision. 

Once finished, he looked towards my reflection in the mirror. His sad eyes raked over my body, a sigh leaving his lips. He knew that trying to get me out of bed to eat something or even take a shower was a pointless argument. I only did things on my terms, when I wanted. 

But with the broken state of myself in front of him, he knew that he couldn’t allow me to continue on like this. 

The shower had turned on with a start causing my body to jump at the noise. 

Silence was still tangled between us as he gently pulled me to my feet. I tried to fight against him but after weeks of fighting, I was tired. 

“Steve,” I muttered. 

“Don’t!” He demanded. 

Without another word, he placed his hands on my shoulders and led me towards the bathroom. He motioned towards the shower with a quick nod. 

“I’ll give you five minutes. When you’re finished, we’re going to the common room to eat something.” 

Once alone, I reluctantly stripped out of my clothes, letting the warm water cascade down over my body. The warm water had instantly relaxed the ache in my muscles and I silently cursed myself for not trying this earlier. 

Steve was the one who had helped me through the hell the last few weeks had become. I tried to sleep alone the first few nights but after the third night of screams for Bucky, Steve had brought me to his room. He refused to let me deal with this loss alone. 

We were never intimate. We did share a bed but that was it. He wouldn’t allow whatever lingering feelings he had left for me get in the way of me trying to heal. 

If it wasn’t for Steve, I would have put a bullet in my brain 21 days ago; the night Bucky disappeared. 

“Y/N?” 

I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and shut off the water, letting Steve know that he was good to come inside. 

“Natasha bought you some more clothes,” Steve mentioned while setting another bag of clothes next to the other six bags. 

The only clothes I had chosen to wear were Bucky’s shirts, hoping that the scent would be enough to make me think he was actually here. 

It didn’t. 

I nodded to Steve while sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes immediately connecting to the picture frame on the end table. 

Bucky and I in Romania, all those years ago. My fingers played with the necklace he had bought for my birthday. I never took it off. 

“I’ll let you get dressed.” 

Steve went to walk away but stopped when I reached for his hand. 

“You can stay. I’ll get dressed in the bathroom,” I stated. 

He nodded and I could feel his eyes on my back as I hesitantly grabbed some clothes from the bags that Natasha had bought. 

Once I had completely dressed, I mentioned to Steve that he could uncover his eyes. He had walked into the bathroom, leaning against the door frame to watch me. 

I stood in front of the mirror, grimacing at my broken state. The circles under my eyes had darken and my hair was starting to dry in a knotted mess. Running a brush through it, I peaked at Steve through the mirror. 

“Thank you.” 

All he did was nod in response. 

“Are you hungry?” He questioned. 

I shook my head. “I don’t want to see anyone.” 

“They’re worried about you, Y/N.” Steve said. “They haven’t seen you since we came back to the compound.” 

“I know, Steve.” I sighed, turning myself to face him. 

I leaned against the sink and crossed my arms over my chest. “I can’t look any of them in the eye. I understand that they’ve also lost people they loved but knowing what I lost.” 

My words trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. 

Steve knew, however, and pulled me into his embrace. “You don’t have to tell them.” 

“It’s not fair, Steve.” I looked into his eyes, the bare skin of his face smelling like fresh aftershave. “The only piece I had left of Bucky disappeared along with him.” 

He gently placed a hand over my stomach, ghosting over the place where mine and Bucky’s unborn baby used to grow. His lips parted to speak but closed when the tower began to shake, almost as if an earthquake was happening. 

Before I could argue, Steve was pulling me along with him towards the main common hall of the Avengers Compound. 

I watched as Tony lay in one of the hospital beds in the med bay of the compound, Pepper stuck to his side like glue. 

He had been floating in space for the last twenty-three days but was saved by a new friend, Carol Danvers. 

Or Captain Marvel as she called herself. 

Tony said that he had fought Thanos on his home planet, before he showed up to Wakanda, ultimately losing in the end, just like we had. 

“This is stupid,” I muttered to the remaining members of our team. “We went after him with double the army and we still lost!” 

Steve sighed. “We have to try, Y/N.” 

“To what, kill him?” I scoffed. “We tried that!” 

“You didn’t have me last time.” 

My eyes snapped over towards the new blood of the room. 

“Do you even know where he is?” I asked Carol. 

“I know some people who might,” she stated. 

“Don’t bother, I know exactly where he is.” 

The other new blood, a robot named Nebula, spoke this time. From the brief introductions, I gathered that she was the daughter of Thanos. If it wasn’t for Steve stopping me, she would have been burnt to ash the second those words came from her. 

“So he’s retired to a planet?” Rhodey asked. 

“He used the stones again,” Nat said, astonished. 

I couldn’t believe that we were even discussing this and I couldn’t believe that I had ultimately agreed to it. Even if there was a slight chance that I would be able to bring Bucky back, along with everyone else that had vanished, I owed it to him to at least try. He wouldn’t want me to sit on my ass anymore; I needed to fight.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch,” I cursed while leaving them all behind. 

[365emotionlessfaces]

@schemmentits i hope you like it!

The Aspiring Teachers Program

Part 6 WC:~1.2k

The buses were packed on the way to the Franklin Institute, so you sat with one of your students. Janine sat in the seat right behind you, accompanied by a student of her own.

“Did you bring him?” She asked you at one point during the ride. The kids that were seated with you, looked at you inquisitively.

“Ronny,” you explained to the kids. “He’s one of my stuffed animals,” you told the students, “and of course, I brought him.” You rolled your eyes at your fellow teacher. She had been obsessed with Ronny, your stuffed eagle, ever since you told her the story of how you got him. She thought it was the cutest love story, like a modern day Romeo and Juliet. Except you were both women… and neither of you died. The amount of times she had told you that it was destiny for you to find Em had been so many that you lost count. She had been the only person you told about your time in the Program, and she made you confident you were right not to tell anyone else.

“Ah, sweet! The kids are gonna love him, especially since he plays for the Eagles, right?” She tried pumping her own enthusiasm into the kids seated beside you. They really didn’t care, instead choosing to pay attention to an older student playing some games on his phone.

“Janine, I only brought them in case some of the students have a difficult time sleeping away from home. I didn’t bring them just so the kids could play with them,” you sighed. The fact that you even brought Ronny along was surprising, even for you. Ronny had stayed with you in your dorm at college, helping you through some tough times, but never once had he been willingly handed to another person, with the exception of Janine. He was your prized possession, and only the woman seated behind you knew why.

The rest of the trip was mostly peaceful. You ended up having to switch seats with a student to break up an argument, but other than that, the ride went smoothly.

The Institute was amazing. You learned a lot about the history of Philadelphia, mostly by Melissa correcting the volunteer guide at every turn. You loved how passionate she was about her hometown, and how that passion spilled over into her teaching. You spent the day sharing your newfound information with the kids, reveling in the fact that the little kids were finding things they were excited to learn about, and then running up to you to tell you what they learned. You were the only one who didn’t notice how Melissa’s eyes followed you everywhere you went, or how they softened every time she saw you excitedly engaging with a student.

Disaster didn’t strike until everyone was laying down in the galaxy room for the night. You had set up your sleeping space, and your kiddos had set their spots up surrounding you. There were a couple students who attempted to lay down right next to you, causing other students to be jealous and start whining about how they wanted to be right next to you.

“Jokes on youse guys. I get that spot,” Melissa laughed and tossed her sleeping bag on the floor next to your blankets. You could feel the heat rising to your face, but had to quickly hide the blush you felt creeping in order to console a miffed child.

Once everyone had settled down, you and Melissa laid next to each other. You noted that she didn’t leave very much room between your sleeping spaces. You and Melissa talked quietly about the day you each had had. You smiled as she talked about that phony guide ‘who isn’t even from Philly.’ You shared the most interesting things you had learned from the day, and she listened intently, with a huge smile of her own.

All was going well, until the word “Alien!” was shouted, causing pandemonium. Kids were screaming and running every which way. You and Melissa jumped up and each went to try to corral screaming students. It took twenty minutes for the adults of Abbott- with the exception of Ava who needed her smooth eleven hours- to regain control. After the alien had been found, Barbara in a CPAP machine, kids were found and settled back into their makeshift beds for the night. You thought you could finally lay back down, when Gregory comes up to you.

“I can’t find Jamir. He’s the only one left,” this was the most panicked you had ever seen the man, so you immediately jumped into action. Melissa and Barb started searching the lower floor, Jacob and Gregory headed upstairs to look, and you and Janine took the current level of the building.

After ten more minutes of searching, you found Jamir tucked in a corner of a conference type room, sobbing.

“Hey, Jamir. It’s Miss Schneider. Are you okay?” You asked softly, slowly approaching the boy.

“I want my mommy!” He cried hysterically. Once you got close enough, he practically leapt into your arms. “I’m scared!”

“Oh, honey. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” you stood, boy still in your arms, and carried him back to the main hall. When you got there, Gregory and Jacob were back, and Janine was there pacing nervously. Ava was leaning against a wall with her arms crossed. The relief hit each of them at the same time, as they saw you approaching with the boy. You sat the boy on one of the benches in the hall, and asked your friends to watch him for just a moment.

You slipped into the galaxy room, carefully stepping around sleeping children, and made your way to your duffel bag. Grabbing Ronny, you made your way back to Jamir as quickly as you could without trampling any of the small humans. You crossed the hall and took a seat beside Jamir, offering Ronny to him, though you hoped no one noticed your slight hesitation.

“This is Ronny,” you told him, as he sniffled. “You see his jersey?” The boy nodded in response. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Barb and Melissa returning from their fruitless search. As you turned to completely face Jamir, you missed the way the two women grabbed each other’s arms in shock at the sight of the stuffed eagle. Ava didn’t miss the fact that Melissa looked like she had seen a ghost, though.

“He’s a quarterback for the Eagles, that’s why he’s got the jersey. Quarterbacks are big, strong football players. Do you think they’re scared of anything?” The boy had stopped crying, and now the sniffles were the only evidence that there had even been a breakdown. He shook his head. “Exactly, so why don’t you let Ronny protect you for the night? He slept all day while I was teaching, so he’s got enough energy to stay awake all night to keep you safe, okay?” The boy gave you a small smile, and headed into the galaxy room for the night, Ronny tucked tightly under his arm.

Part Seven

[runnning-outof-time]

K, I ran to your inbox the moment I saw you'd opened requests again! Could I pls request a blurb using this gif + the prompt "Working together again. Just like old times" as inspo? Only if you feel inspired tho, if not, feel free to ignore it.

I can always count on you to hype me up and help me out whenever I’m in need, Lee, and I’m deeply appreciative of that. 💛 Thanks so very much for sending this in! I’m sorry it took a bit for me to post it…I hope I did it justice! 😊

Like Old Times

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: Arthur goes behind his brother’s back and seeks out (Y/N) for a plan.

Word Count: 1146

Warnings: none

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED — I’d love to know what you thought of the story!

“Finally came to your senses, I see,” (Y/N) commented as she realized who it was standing in the archway of her sitting room. “Come, sit. Have a drink with me.”

Arthur Shelby stood, frozen for a moment or two longer. He clenched his peaked cap in his hands, his knuckles growing white as he contemplated whether or not was actually doing to do this. Was he actually going to turn his back on his brother?

“I…I just wanted ta…” he was a fumbling mess, his hesitance spilling out into his words.

“You can skip the explanation, Arthur,” she cut his babbling off. Her stern voice had him standing straight; almost like he’d just been called to attention. (Y/N) grinned when she noticed that she - still - had that effect on him. “Are you with me or not?” she asked then, a slight grin playing on her lips.

“I’m with you,” he nodded his head, sounding more sure now.

“Good,” (Y/N) nodded as well, “now come and sit. I’d still like to have a drink with you,” she attempted to coax him over again.

This time he listened. (Y/N) offered a closed mouth smile and a glass as he sat down in the seat across from her. Arthur accepted it, his eyes locked on her as he slowly brought the glass up to his lips and took a drink.

“So how are we going about it?” (Y/N) asked, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back in her chair again.

“I…” he had to pause and clear his voice, hating how shaky it sounded as it came out, “I’m not sure if Tommy will, uh….I’m not sure he’ll appreciate anyone going against him,” he was finally able to voice his worry on the situation.

(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed as she heard what Arthur had to say. Silence hung between the two for a few moments before the slightest smile formed on her lips.

“What’s…what’s that smile for?” Arthur asked hesitantly.

“Tommy’s not going to have a choice in this matter, Arthur,” (Y/N) responded, her smile growing as she spoke.

“What do you mean?” he still wasn’t understanding what she was getting at.

“If I’m remembering what you said correctly…” she began, sitting up a little bit straighter in her seat before continuing, “he put you in charge of the Eden Club, right?”

“He did.”

“And so you’re the one who gets the final say in what happens there, right?” she asked another question.

“I am,” he was slowly starting to understand.

“And why else on Earth would you’ve come to me if not to get a second opinion on what the Peaky Blinders’d like the club to look like?” her grin was ear to ear now.

I miss spending time with you, was what Arthur wanted to say. But he couldn’t say that to her, not yet at least.

He kicked himself every single day for mishandling his and (Y/N)’s relationship. She was without a doubt the best thing that had happened to him, and yet he still managed to make a mess out of what they once had together. She stuck by him when the Shelby name meant nothing; when Arthur was trying everything he could to make sure his family survived after the war ended.

But then he chose the company over her. It was hard for him not to at the time…Tommy wanted him one-hundred percent invested, and Arthur was determined to show his brother that he also meant business. But meaning business meant personal matters fell to the back burner. (Y/N) wouldn’t have that, so she gave him the ultimatum: split his time better or she leaves. The end result was the latter.

“Arthur?” her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” the noise he made told her that he hadn’t heard what she said.

“I asked you about the vision you had for the club,” she repeated herself, not questioning the reason behind his zoning out, “were you thinking more traditional or modern?”

Arthur felt himself relax as he realized she actually wanted to get into discussion on the club’s appearance. He was worried she would want to re-hash past grievances. But she was ready to get to work, and he was thankful for it.

So get to work they did.

It wasn’t until they got to a pause in their conversation that Arthur realized he hadn’t had much of his drink. He was so engulfed in their shared ideas and her excitement for the upcoming projects that he didn’t so much as think of the thing that he so frequently used as a crutch.

“We laid a pretty adequate groundwork for the club so far, don’t you think?” (Y/N) asked, scribbling a few more things down in the notebook she’d grabbed for the occasion.

“I think so,” Arthur agreed, a grin on his face.

“Look at us, Arthur…” she started, a smile on her face as he raised his eyebrows at her, waiting to hear what else she had to say, “working together again…just like old times.”

Her smile grew as she finished her statement, watching as Arthur raisied his drink in a nonverbal agreement. He took a big swig from it then, enjoying the burn it brought as the liquid travelled down his throat.

“What if…” he started, clearing his throat in hopes he’d sound more confident, “what if I took ya to the club sometime?”

“So I could get a better idea of what we’re working with?” (Y/N) questioned, tilting her head to the side slightly.

“No, uh…” Arthur paused again, feeling silly because obviously she’d take his offer in that light, they’d only been discussing the plans on renovating the club for the last hour or so. “I was thinkin’…I was thinkin’ you and I could go there together. Like…like I could take you there and we could…”

“Arthur Shelby, are you asking me on a date?” she cut into his sheepish babbling, her eyebrows raised as a smile teetered on her lips.

“I, uh…” he let out a sheepish laugh, taking a deep breath and finding her eyes, “I guess I am,” he ended his statement with a smile, waiting on bated breath for her response.

Seconds felt like hours as they passed. (Y/N) wanted to make sure that she was making the right choice. She couldn’t deny that she had missed him. Him showing up and asking her for help at the club surprised her, sure, but she was overjoyed to be able to see him again. And now he was asking her out…maybe this was a chance to start anew.

So, her smile widened as she finally opened her mouth to give her answer, “I’d love to go with you, Arthur.”

Post note: I can’t seem to stop writing Arthur as a stuttering fool when around the woman he has feelings for….I just really think he’d act that way in said situation

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @succubaby @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx

@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @ce1iat

@christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

@sleepyycatt @novashelby

[audiovideodisco]

hii

could you please do a chase x house!daughter (also a doctor) fic where chase meets her for the first time and dr wombat falls head over heels for her (followed by australian pining, much to the amusement of the team)?

thank you so much!

Hello!!!! thank you for the req!!

sorry i took a while, ive been a bit busy with my masters degree and ngl i forgot how exhausting uni is when ur ill, but this was a nice break ❤️❤️

i hope you like it!!

Worshipping the bloodline.

When Foreman hires a new doctor, things go a little bit sideways, and very down under. Who is she?

cw: mild language, house being house, one unintentional uncomfortable joke by taub, australians

word count: 964

requested: yes

relationship: chase x house’s daughter!reader

characteristics: doctor reader, she/her reader, no other descriptors

•••

“Dr. Veltz will be joining later this afternoon. Play nice.” Foreman said, directing his last words at House. He didn’t react much outwardly, but sent Foreman a cheeky eyebrow raise, which in turn made him roll his eyes and walk out the glass office door with a rhythmic thud of his new dress shoes on the hospital flooring.

“Who’s Dr-“ Chase started, soon cut off by House, not to anyone’s surprise.

“She’s… I don’t know. Ask Foreman. I didn’t hire her.”

“You didn’t?”

“Officially, I did. Unofficially? I don’t want anyone else on my team, wait, no, I officially don’t want anyone on my team either… You get the point.”

Chase looked at Dr. Park across from him, as if searching for information, but she just shrugged and began rambling about the case file ahead of her, and House gladly took the opportunity to steer the conversation away.

As the day wore on, the team almost forgot about the mystery Dr. Veltz, until she turned up at House’s office door.

“Hi, I’m-“

“Yeah, Veltz, I know-“

“Could we, um, talk, before I start? Uh… in private?”

House looked at her pensively but eventually nodded and took her to his office, shutting the door.

Chase couldn’t help but be mesmerised by the woman that had just walked into the room, rather unsubtly staring at her through the glass walls. She wasn’t his usual type, but she really was magical…

“HEY! AUSSIE!” Chi practically barked at Chase as she slammed her hand on the table, just about bringing him back to the differential office.

“W-woah- what?”

“You were staring. Like, directly at Veltz.” Taub said, not sure how aware Chase actually was of his actions.

“What? I wasn’t-“

“Yeah, you kinda were, she is very pretty, I don’t blame you…” Adams said, a little bit of amusement still lingering on her face, but her compliment to Veltz was genuine.

Chas put his head in his hands as he felt himself go read with embarrassment. Meanwhile, Veltz and House spoke in his office, trying to ignore the shenanigans in the other room.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just… well… Australian and Catholic.”

Veltz laughs softly at his teasing but isn’t able to hide her nerves.

“What is it. You’re practically vibrating.”

“Uh… I pushed for this job so that I’d get the chance to actually talk to you about something-“

“You’re not a patient are you-“

“No- no… nothing like that, I genuinely want this job, but I think you have a right to know about… well incase you don’t want me to work with you because of it-“

“Get on with it-“

“I’m your daughter.”

House’s face went quickly through all five stages of grief except acceptance.

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve never gotten anyone-“

“My mom… I took her legal surname, but you met her as a sex worker in medical school. Leonie Lane.”

His face flashed with recognition. Why the hell did he think he was able to defy nature back then… in med school of all places? Condoms, House… although, maybe this wasn’t a bad thing. She was clearly incredibly capable or she wouldn’t have even gotten this far.

“She… um… she never told me.”

“She knew you didn’t sign up for that, and said it was as much her fault as yours. She wanted me, and I’m the one who asked about your name.”

“My name?”

“Yeah. She told me my dad was a doctor who saved lives, but she didn’t pretend that something happened to you or anything, she told me the truth, and I had a lovely supportive family in others too. But I asked if she knew your name, I wanted to meet you. You’re the reason I became a doctor.”

“Wow. Um. It might sound horrible, but can we do a DNA test? I just-“

“Of course, that’s not horrible, that’s completely reasonable.”

He nodded solemnly.

“Alright, uh, let’s go back to the case for now, we can catch up more later…”

“Alright, cool.”

They go back to the room, hearing the other doctors bickering, which ceases as soon as they enter.

The weeks go on as normal, and House and Veltz find out that she is his daughter. It’s a bit confusing for them both to navigate, but it gets a little easier. Park, Taub and Adams notice his slight - very slight - favouritism towards Veltz, and Taub can’t help himself but make a remark about it. It’s a particularly bad pain day for House, so he’s even worse at masking his preference towards her, and his words are practically entirely unfiltered…

“Veltz has sauntered in and captured House’s heart, almost like he’s got the hots-“

“Don’t you DARE insinuate that about my dau-“ He caught his slip up, but it was too late. Veltz mouthed to him, knowing he felt guilty for her sake, not his,

“It’s alright.”

“Wait, does this mean that Chase has a crush on House’s kid?” Park says out loud before her brain stops her.

“Kid? I’m- wait… what?” Veltz turns to look at chase, who by this point is burning bright red, and had averted his gaze.

“Oh jeez.” Chase mutters.

“Okay. Let’s move on so our patient doesn’t die of SEPSIS before with untangle whatever the hell is going on here.” Everyone nods, looking back at the whiteboard.

As the case comes to a close, Veltz hands Chase the test results to file away, and a small slip of paper sat on the top. He had given up at this point, not thinking anything of it, but when he unfolded the slip, seeing her distinct handwriting…

Call me. (555)555 555.

he couldn’t help but smile widely, almost like a child, blushing furiously and stuffing the paper in his trouser pocket, calling her that very night.

[twola]

I’m sorry for asking but I don’t know where else to turn but— do you or anyone else who might see this question have any tips for writing Mary Linton? Especially in a fic where Arthur falls in love with a female oc or a reader. I find it hard to write without either demonizing her or making Arthur look completely uncharacteristically over her. That being said, I have no problem with the fics that dive into their dare I say toxicity of a relationship but I just don’t want to be extreme lol

So I don’t claim to be any kind of expert on this, but I’ll tell you my way of approaching it. There is no right answer on how to approach this; it is all about how you want to approach. That is the joy of fandom. I’m not sure if this will even qualify as tips, but I’ll just extrapolate on my approach.

In my writing canon, Arthur certainly still cares for Mary. Pines for her. After all, she was his first true love. Mary also pines for him, she loves him deeply, but cannot condone his lifestyle, and cannot live within his existence. Frankly, he’s a murderer. A killer, a thief, an outlaw. An overall bad person, even he says so.

That’s why she begs him to run away. If only he can give up being an outlaw, it will work!

But that gets into the toxicity. Is that asking too much because it is that is who Arthur is? Is that asking too much to change? We as the players mostly think so. But we also play AS Arthur. For Mary, someone who was never forced to scrape by, Arthur’s behavior is abhorrent. From her perspective, it shouldn’t be that much to ask of Arthur to stop being a bad person.

Mary has the luxury to ask that of him. She has never had to scrape by for existence. She has never had to resort to criminality to live.

In my writing canon, I think that is the difference. If a female OC is running with the gang because they are an orphan, an outlaw, a widow, an outsider with nothing, that OC doesn’t have the luxury to ask Arthur to change.

Arthur sees and knows that he can never give Mary what she’s asking for. He’s not going to change his ways (in the canon, he is not going to leave the gang, which he loves also).

But over time, there is that OC… she may be there. They may bond. There may be tension. There may be attraction. She doesn’t ask Arthur to change.

Mary’s love, tragically, is conditional. Which I can’t blame her for!

I love you, but you need to change. For you, for me, for us.

Maybe that female OC isn’t asking Arthur to change.

I love you, in just the flawed way that you are.

I actually like Mary Linton. As soon as I finished the game I actually started writing an A/M fic. Their love story is incredibly tragic. They both obviously love each other, but are unwilling to meet on either side of the chasm between them.

So writing Mary, I try not to make her mean, or out of touch, or overly manipulative. I write her as a woman deeply in love with a man who won’t make that final commitment to her. And the asking for help that she does? Very much part of it is to see Arthur again, because again, she is in love. And he loves her too. And always will.

But he has room in his heart to grow. Maybe part of it will belong to his first love. But maybe he will grow to love a woman that does not or cannot ask him to fundamentally change.

I hope that answers your question…? Maybe? Or maybe that is just me rambling.

[thedreadvampy]

it's been a strange arc so far

when I was 19-21 and having an extremely imbalanced relationship with someone in their mid 30s I was like 'we are both adults so the fact that this is fucking me up is my fault'

when I hit my late 20s and saw how young people in their late teens and early 20s seem now I was like 'oh wait I was so fucking young I didn't know shit about my own limits or about managing relationships and I don't know why someone in their mid to late 30s would be into that except for nefarious purposes'

the weird bit is now I'm into my 30s - not even that far into my 30s - and while I still wholeheartedly believe that last thing about how young (and self destructive) 20 year olds are, I'm also kind of like 'huh, actually nobody I know that age has their shit remotely together and frankly the reason this fucked me up is because NEITHER of us knew what the fuck we were doing it how to cope, for different reasons and at different life stages, and there probably wasn't any malice or intent to control as much as there was Blind Flailing.'

[calamitydaze]

long tag ramble below u have been warned

[thoughts-and-all-that]

literally had to quietly turn off asks on my main because in the last line 2 weeks ive gotten probably 50 asks about that whole situation asking for money. how about no.

i 1. dont have money 2. live in fucking missouri usa 3. dont have any influence nor reach online and 4. refuse to post about that topic on my main blog EVER. because i like my main staying as light hearted as possible.

i am the last person these people should be sending asks to about this.

hell, there was even one that started with 'youre our last hope!!!' no the fuck im not. you probably sent that ask to 100 people. i am no ones last hope.

also apparently im r@cist for thinking that at least a few of these are scams. because there totally couldnt be people taking advantage of this situation to be greedy and awful and scam people. it wouldnt be the first time, nor the last.

it was also just annoying. i never get people talking to me online anymore so when i get asks its usually so exciting... but now it was just dreadful. 'whos gonna try and guilt trip me today?'

seriously, most of them started guilt trippy. at least some of them started polite though.

i know its a huge tragedy and w@r and all that but i dont know why i need to have any part of it. there is nothing i can do about it, and all it would do is make me upset, especially because theres nothing i can do.

and people can tell me all they want 'but there IS something you can do!!' but like... if people are getting killed, i doubt me signing a petition is gonna make them go 'oh, i guess i was wrong to kill people, sorry' like...

and like i said, i dont have reach or influence online. plus, thousands if not millions of people are already posting about this topic CONSTANTLY and saying everything better than i could, and having more reach than i ever will. i think me not posting about it will be fine.

[bloodnight-blaze]

“ who cares, baby? i think i wanna marry you. ”

ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, and sylus w a gn!reader.

synopsis: you marry the love of your life.

notes: started off as silly thoughts for my friend and then turned into this so. take it. enjoy it.

warnings: not canon to the story of the game, self-indulgent, weddings, sickeningly sweet fluff, they all cry lol, it's short and it's sweet, reader does wear a dress so sorry if that's something that makes you uncomfortable, petnames used: starlight (x), sunshine (z), angel (r), princess (s).

XAVIER — certainly fantasized about getting married, but it was never something he actually expected to happen. Not until he met you. It wasn't love at first sight, but when you two entered a relationship, he could just see himself marrying you.

When he proposed, he had been so nervous that he barely slept the night before, which is saying something. But you accepted with a bright smile, and the man nearly smothered you to death with a hug. The mere thought of marrying you has him smiling, honestly.

He doesn't care how big or small the wedding is, though when it turns out to be a small wedding he finds he prefers it that way. There's an air of excitement at the wedding, most of the guests being your own friends and family since there wasn't anyone for him to invite.

Xavier knew he was going to cry. There's no denying it, he knew he'd cry at some point during the day because, I mean... he's marrying you. He's the luckiest man alive. He just thought he'd hold strong a little longer, but the tears were falling when you walked down the aisle in your breathtaking dress.

His gaze was drawn to you the entire time. Nothing else mattered but you. The way the fairy lights bathed you in this beautiful golden glow, the way you smiled at him with all the love in the world... it was like you contained galaxies in your eyes.

The vows were short and sweet, and when the officiant says you two can kiss, he was quick to gently cup your face in his hands. He could only hope the kiss he pressed against your lips conveyed the sheer and utter adoration he felt for you.

This was the beginning of a new chapter for the two of you, and while he's sure nothing will change, he can't help but being excited at the idea of being able to refer to you as his spouse.

ㅤ— “ I love you, my starlight. Until every last star dies, I love you. ”

ZAYNE — had always known that he would marry you one day. Ever since you two were kids, he had imagined it. You're the only person he's ever loved, so if he ever got married, it would be to you or no one at all. It was only a matter of time, really.

The actual proposal was nothing big. You two had dinner at his place and the box with the ring rested in the place he knew you'd be able to see it. He hadn't been nervous when he proposed, but he can't deny that his heart was racing when he popped the question.

He'll definitely want the wedding to be small, just a couple of friends and family on each side. His parents were overjoyed to learn about his engagement and made sure to clear their schedule for the day of the wedding, and he had invited a few friends from work as well.

Zayne hadn't really wanted to cry, especially not in front of so many people, but he couldn't stop the tears from blurring his gaze when he saw you walking down the aisle. How could he not cry, when he felt so overwhelmed by his love for you?

It was the first time he saw you in your wedding dress as well, since you had been so adamant at keeping to tradition. You weren't lying when you said you would match your dress to his suit.

The bouquet of flowers in your hands only added to the beauty of... everything about you. So he won't deny that he cried, his gaze never once breaking from you even when the officiant started to speak.

He was able to keep his tears in check for the rest of the ceremony, and once you two were home and no longer wearing your wedding clothes, he found it near impossible to stray from your side for you long. His hand was almost always interlocked with yours, his finger absently brushing against the wedding wing that bound the two of you together.

ㅤ— “ You've always been the love of my life, sunshine. You always will. ”

RAFAYEL — never thought about marriage. It's not something that ever entered his mind, and he avoided attending any weddings just to dodge the inevitable 'so when will we get an invite to your wedding' he'll no doubt be met with. It isn't until you entered his life that he started to give it some thought.

And when he did decide to propose to you, it had been spur of the moment. He bought the ring on a whim months ago, and he kept it in his pocket almost every time you two went out, waiting for the perfect moment. That perfect moment just so happens to be you spending the night at his place, laughing at his smears paint on your face. The question slipped out, and he seemed more shocked than you.

He was adamant on keeping the thing small, even though Thomas wanted to invite a bunch of people once the man found out about the engagement.

The only people Rafayel was willing to invite was Thomas and a couple of crabs he befriended. Sure, your family and friends questioned why they were being seated with crabs, but it's not their wedding, now is it?

Before the wedding starts, he had gone to the bathroom to give himself a lengthy pep talk about how he was not going to cry at all at any point during the wedding. And for a good portion of it, he didn't. When you walked down the aisle wearing a beautiful dress that reminded him of the ocean, he didn't cry. When you guys shared your vows, exchanged rings, and kissed, he didn't cry.

No, Rafayel only cried when the first dance started. When the lights dimmed and you took his hand and pulled him close, he could feel his heart stuttering. You looked at him as if he were the only person in the world, like you never wanted to look away. The feeling of your wedding ring was cool against his skin, and it was impossible to stop the tears at this point.

He spent the entirety of your first dance together with his head buried in your shoulder just so people couldn't see his tears. Only you got to see him like this, because there's no one else he'd rather be vulnerable with.

ㅤ— “ I'd marry you over and over again, angel, until you get sick of me. ”

SYLUS — certainly thought marriage was something he'd never experience, given his lifestyle. What person would be insane enough to marry the leader of Onychinus, let alone date the man? You, apparently, because you became a pivotal part of his life.

He won't propose until he's absolutely certain that marrying him is something you'd be willing to do. Marrying him means really accepting the darker parts that come with being in a relationship with him, and he didn't want to force you into such a commitment. And when he does propose, he can't help the relief he feels when you say yes.

While the wedding isn't necessarily big, a few of his most trusted associates are invited, alongside your family and friends should you invite them. It's a strange mix of people, and a few of your friends will probably pull you to the side after the ceremony to ask what exactly it is that your husband does for a living.

For the most part, Sylus won't cry during the ceremony. Though, once you two start to recite your vows to each other, he does choke up a bit. Any man would be a fool not to tear up at the sight of their spouse professing their love to them. And it doesn't help that you're looking at him with pure and utter devotion in your gaze.

You were okay with who he was. With what he does. You weren't scared off by the darker aspects of his life, and you were vowing to stick by his side through whatever the world threw at you two. Crying only seemed natural. Other than the vows, Sylus stayed composed. Softer, than usual, but overall he kept his usual demeanor.

Truly, he thinks he could die happy now that he's married to you. The ring on his finger was a comfortable weight, and he'd find himself looking at it way more than he'd care to admit.

He spoiled you rotten before you two were married, but trust it'll only get worse now that you're his spouse. Anything you want, he'll get it for you. You deserve the whole world for wanting to spend the rest of your life with him.

ㅤ— “ I'm staring? How can I not stare at the key to my heart, princess? ”

[chillllii]

i regret getting a cat in my current situation

[isildheir]

Honestly, my abuser saying Louis was just as bad as Lestat or basically implying they hate how people write Lestat off as more abusive than he is or that Louis was just as abusive was a red flag I should've put a lot more stock into.