#hearing aid promotion

[sung-en-hear]

台中購物節火熱登場，頌恩助聽器邀您一起感受雙重驚喜！

這個台中購物節，讓您的購物更具意義！Vista/GN Danavox/Audio Service等多項助聽器品牌款式優惠，除了享有實惠價格之外，頌恩全台中門市皆為 5倍店家還能參加購物節的豐富活動，助您輕鬆抽獎！聽見世界、聽見生活中的點滴美好。

查看助聽器優惠：https://sonenhear.com.tw/2024-taichung-shopping-festival/

[grimoirefate]

TAG DROP 001

[ ooc. ] i'm a nice person so long as you are nice to me. my muses are not the only ones with teeth.

[ ic. ] i once feared mythal would consume me were i to carry her. but twas not so. i remain free willed and mortal.

[ mythal & solas ] ...are not for you alone to bear my friend. the many wrongs we did. we did together. I release you from my service.

[ mythal introspection ] I pulled you from the fade you loved and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon and it broke you.

[ introspection ] when she intended me to become the next host of an ancient gods soul I feared naught would be left of my own.

[ veilguard ] I have been advisor to orlais. witch of the wilds. daughter of flemeth. and once long ago an old friend.

[ inquisition. ] I knew the empress was intrigued by the arcane and I could answer questions no chantry mage could.

[ origins. ] well. well. what have we here? are you a vulture I wonder? a scavenger? poking amidst a corpse? or intruder?

[ answered: ooc. ] its me. the equivalent of a spicy kitten in a corner.

[ answered: ic. ] yet she survived and returned ages later to aide the inquisition in its hour of need. how?

[ psa. ] hear ye! hear ye! use those things on the side of your head or be doomed.

[ saved. ] im like a dragon when it comes to things i like.

[ prompts / memes. ] twas both a pleasure and necessity to help them as it is now.

[ crack. ] ooooo! you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you!

[ salt. ] i'm bitter and now i'm making it everyone's problem.

[ birthday. ] its my hatch day!!!!

[ self promotion. ] would that I could become them I would for now this will do.

[ promotion ] look! its the people I like! I think you will like them too!

[buriedinmyownfeelings]

It was a good news type of day!!

[reasonsforhope]

"Vice President Kamala Harris is proposing to provide federal funding to cover home care costs for older Americans, aiming to help the “ sandwich generation " of adults caring for aging parents while raising their children at the same time.

Appearing Tuesday on ABC’s “The View,” Harris talked about taking care of her mother when she was dying and personally experiencing the challenges many families face when seeking affordable in-home care for their aging loved ones.

She promised that if, elected in November, she will seek to expand Medicare, the federal health insurance program for older Americans, so that it covers long-term care and includes services like in-home aides. Harris said aides could help seniors do things as simple as preparing meals or putting on sweaters because it is “about dignity for that individual. It’s about independence for that individual.”

Her proposal is a new one just a month out from Election Day but the issue is one that President Joe Biden's administration has been working on for years.

In an effort to soften the effects of inflation, the White House promoted as part of Build Back Better, its legislative agenda that stalled on Capitol Hill years ago, steeply increased federal spending for child care as well as for seniors. After Build Back Better collapsed, the Biden administration continued to promote increasing spending for what it calls “the care economy,” a cause Harris has continued to mention after replacing Biden at the top of the Democratic ticket.

“These plans are common sense. They can help family caregivers work and save both families and the federal government money by allowing seniors to stay in their homes instead of being sent to nursing homes,” the Harris campaign said in a fact sheet detailing her proposal. “Medicare at Home will also reduce hospitalizations.”

As part of a blitz of media interviews she’s been doing in recent days, Harris sat down after her appearance on “The View” with radio personality Howard Stern, who said that his mother is 97. Taking care of an elderly parent, he said, “will bankrupt you.”

Such costs have increased pressure on adults caring for their parents and kids simultaneously. In 2019, roughly 30% of family caregivers of older Americans lived in households that included children or grandchildren, according to AARP.

Harris would likely have to work with Congress to achieve key parts of her proposal. Harris’ campaign points to past, similar proposals projected to cost $40 billion annually, but says much of that can be offset by savings achieved through efforts begun by the Biden administration to expand Medicare’s ability to negotiation prices with major drug manufacturers.

Harris is also promising to further expand Medicare to include hearing and vision coverage, while changing existing rules that can allow federal authorities to seize a deceased beneficiary’s home to recuperate costs. [Note: I'm sorry the current rules fucking what] The campaign fact sheet says that practice “means that those homes are not passed on to the seniors’ children, which particularly harms rural and minority families.”"

-via AP News, October 8, 2024

[kcsplace]

Ice and Mav get together shortly after the events of the first film, teaching together at Top Gun and then going home together. They're insanely, crazily, never-getting-over-this in love with each other.

But always in the back of Mav's mind is Ice's ambition for his career, knows those shoulders should bear stars, and that being tied to Mav, or worse, anyone finding out about them, hell even gossiping, will turn Mav from albatross to anchor and Ice would be lucky to stay in the Navy at all, let alone advance and climb the ladder the way he wants, the way he deserves.

The way, in Mav's opinion, the Navy needs.

So, despite it tearing his heart from his chest, despite it nearly killing him, he breaks up with Ice, leaving behind the man he loves and the secret vows they whispered to each other when nobody else could hear.

Time passes. Deployments come and go. Suicide missions are survived. Orders are generally followed.

And Ice advances, promotion after promotion filling his file, the man becoming a part of the Brass as though born to it, a natural leader, a man those under his command want to follow, want to impress, want to emulate.

Nobody has ever met Kazansky's wife but he's worn a wedding ring for years, decades even, but he always attends events alone. His staff begin to wonder if he's a widower but they sure as shit aren't asking about it. Fair he might be, but the Admiral is also firm about one rule: personal life is private.

Nor do they ask about why he always steps in for a Captain Mitchell, winkling him out of whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into this time, the man a menace as much as a hero.

They chalk it up to the mural that graces the halls of every command that the Admiral has ever led, the Layton Rescue, a feat so heroic it's whispered about in the halls even to this day.

But never is it mentioned to the Admiral.

Not until The Mission.

Not until said Captain ends up on their doorstep, not until he walks into the Admiral's office like he belongs there despite his lack of appointment. Not until ice's aide, scurrying after the man, the myth, the menace, almost crashed into the Captain's back at how he stops short in the doorway.

The aide's blustering attempt to apologize to the Admiral stop short as he hears the Captain speak, the man gaping at the ring that encircles the Admiral's finger and asks "you still wear it? You kept my ring?"

When the aide tries to recount the story later to an agog staff meeting, he can't for the life of him capture the depth and rawness of emotion in the Admiral's voice, the distraught yet fond expression on his face as he spoke.

"I kept everything."

[burningembers91]

In the Bleak Midwinter - Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Outside Looking In

Synopsis: Caught out in the cold, you offer Nam-Gyu a place to stay

It was freezing tonight, the coldest January on record in at least 5 years. There were several weather warnings in effect, and ice and snow covered the city streets. Nam-Gyu sat in his winter parker, the hood pulled round his face, his hand stuffed into the pockets for warmth. He’d hardly sold any tickets tonight, most people preferring to stay hunkered down in the warmth instead of battling the elements for some overpriced cocktails and loud music. Still, he battled on, approaching those crazy enough to be out in the cold. He was knocked back again and again, but he couldn’t give up. His parents had given him an ultimatum; find a “real” job or leave their house. Nam-Gyu had begged and pleaded with them to let him stay, even for just a few more days until the weather had died down. But his parents were tired of supporting their youngest son, of constantly having to bail him out of debts they couldn’t afford to pay. His siblings were both doctors, highly esteemed and well respected in their fields. Why couldn’t Nam-Gyu be like this brothers? His parents often wondered. Why did he insist on carrying out this childish fantasy of club promoting? He was approaching 30, and many of his old classmates and family acquaintances were settling down, so why couldn’t he?

You were the reason he couldn’t settle down, couldn’t move on from a job that was actually causing him to lose money. You were all he had left in the world, the one friend he could count on. You’d grown a little closer over the last few months, letting down your guard enough to allow Nam-Gyu to walk you home most nights. He was acting more like himself, forgoing the cocky persona he adopted when he was working. You liked the real him, had told him so several times, and for the first time in his life, Nam-Gyu felt like he didn’t need to be anyone else. You were still broken though, still dragging yourself through the monotony of life in order to pay the bills. Your rent had gone up, as had the heating bill, but your wages were still pitifully low. You found yourself wondering how you’d pay the bills, how you’d manage to feed yourself when you were barely covering basic expenses. Nam-Gyu kept you sane, making you laugh on the nights you thought you might wither and fade entirely.

He saw you standing outside the club, your winter coat pulled up by your ears, your bare legs covered in goosebumps. “I bought you a hot chocolate,” he smiled, handing you the paper cup he’d been using to warm his hands. “What are you doing here?” you gasped, taking the hot drink gratefully and taking a large sip. “It’s absolutely freezing out! You’ll catch your death. Please, go home. I’m ok tonight, there’s hardly anyone here.” Nam-Gyu didn’t like to leave you on your own, not when he knew the way the men who frequented your club behaved. He’d witnessed it more times that he’d cared to, had come to your aid on the occasions where drunken patrons had tried to take advantage of you. You were strong, and you could hold your own, but Nam-Gyu would never forgive himself if something happened to you. “I’m fine!” he lied, pulling his hood tighter around his face as the snow continued to bucket down. “Nam-Gyu,” you sighed, “it’s one snowflake away from a full-blown blizzard. You’ll freeze to death out here. I’m finishing early tonight anyway, so I won’t be walking home on my own too late.”

He knew you wouldn’t let off until he went home, but he no longer had a home to go to. He’d been crashing with one of his brother’s for a few days, but his parents found out and the backlash had been enough for his brother to renege on his invitation. “I uh… I can’t go home,” he admitted. “I had an argument with my parents.” He couldn’t meet your eyes as he spoke, didn’t want you to see the shame plastered to his face. “So, where are you staying?” He could hear the pity in your voice, and he hated it. “Around,” he shrugged, but you couldn’t fool him. you could read Nam-Gyu like a book; you’d gotten to know him quite well over the last few months, better than he’d realised. “Take my keys,” you told him.  “I get off work in an hour, and I’ll see you at my place. You can’t stay in the cold though.” Handing him a pink fuzzy keychain, you didn’t give him a chance to argue before you hurried back into the warmth of the club.

When he arrived at your apartment, the lights wouldn’t turn on. Nam-Gyu wondered if perhaps there was a fault with the fuse box, but he couldn’t find it in your apartment, so set about looking for candles instead. He lit as many as he could find and took a seat on your tiny sofa. He tried to avoid looking at the underwear you’d left hanging out to dry, the lacy garments almost taunting him as he looked wildly around the room for a distraction. You had photos covering your walls; pictures of you with friends and family, pictures of you on vacation. Your smile was so wide, your eyes so bright. He wondered what had happened to you that had dimmed your sparkle. He noticed that you like to read, stacks of books piled around your apartment by various different authors. When looking for the bathroom, he found your bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at the teddy bear perched atop your pillow. The fur was faded and completely gone in some places, but it still held pride of place in your room.

You arrived back home shortly after 11pm to find Nam-Gyu sitting in near darkness. “Why are all the lights off?” you asked him, dumping your coat and boots in the hall. His face was bathed in the dark orange glow of the candles, the light casting his shadow onto the wall behind him. “They wouldn’t turn on,” he said, “I couldn’t find the fuse box, so I just lit your candles.” You tried and failed to get the lights working, a constant sinking feeling in your stomach increasing with each passing second. “They turned my electric off,” you sighed, realising there was nothing faulty with the fuse box. “I… I’m a little behind on payments.” Slumping on the sofa next to Nam-Gyu, you leaned your head against the threadbare couch. Because your electric was off, it meant the heating wasn’t working, and your apartment was like an icebox. You could see your breath in the air when you exhaled, could feel a shiver run through you as you sat freezing in your dress. “What will you do?” Nam-Gyu asked, wishing he could offer you money so you could at least get your lights back on. But the truth was, he was fully in the red. His bank account was overdrawn, and he’d borrowed more money than he cared to think about. “I’ll be ok,” you shrugged. “No use worrying about it now though. I’ll call the company tomorrow. Will you be ok on the sofa?” Nam-Gyu nodded, wrapping himself in the pink fluffy blanket he’d found when he first arrived. “Goodnight,” he whispered, watching as you padded through to the bedroom, using a linen scented candle to guide your way.

You were freezing under your duvet, unable to warm up despite the pyjamas and blankets covering your body. You couldn’t imagine how Nam-Gy must feel, having only a small blanket for warmth. You couldn’t leave him out there like that, not when he’d always been so kind to you. “Do you want to come and sleep in the bed”? you called out, “it’s too cold to be in the living room.” You heard him get up, heard the sound of his feet on the hardwood as he wondered over to your door. “Are you sure?” he asked, “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” But his heart soared at the thought of lying next to you, of feeling your body against his. You pulled back the duvet, allowing him to slide in next to you. The sheets smelled like your perfume and Nam-Gyu took a deep, but quiet breath in as he inhaled your scent.

You were still freezing, and gently pushed yourself closer to his body, the warmth of his chest radiating against your back. Gingerly, Nam-Gyu curled his arm around you, pulling you in closer. You both lay there in the darkness of the room, watching as the snow continued to fall. Neither of you knew what tomorrow would bring. You were both at the lowest points of your lives, but now you had each other. “Goodnight,” he whispered to you, his lips brushing lightly against the tip of your ear. “Goodnight,” you whispered back, his gentle touch sending sparks through your body. You wanted him to kiss you, wanted him to make love to you under the sheets but you couldn’t bring yourself to make the move. As good a man as Nam-Gyu was, you couldn’t allow yourself to fully let your guard down.

But, as you waited for sleep to come, his soft snores oddly comforting in the cold silence of the night, you wondered if perhaps you should take a chance on him. Perhaps you should open yourself to the man who waited in the wind, rain, and snow for you, who never gave up on you.

Maybe it was time to your open yourself up to the possibility that you could be happy again, that a club promoter and a hostess could have a life filled with love and laughter, if only they could get up the courage to try.

[gotta-winwin]

Wahhhh so excited for vernon x reader!!!!!!

Can i request something like idol!jun x reader, i really miss jun 🥹🥹🥹 maybe reader is on another hybe group and him surprising him, or anything HAHAHAHAH

actor!jun x idol!reader headcannons

a/n: wasn't exactly like the prompt you gave, anon, but i hope you still enjoy! we're all in our missing jun hours sadly :(( but it feels nice knowing he's thriving in the element he loves.

your shared google calendar is a hot mess.

The two of you have busy work schedules, as you juggle upcoming comebacks, award shows, reality and variety filming, meetings with the higher-ups - the day literally never ends. Jun is the same, always trying to balance his filming gigs and promotional side quests. It’s rare for the two of you to have a day off - let alone ALIGN your days together. Trust that your shared google calendar is a battlefield filled with colorful agendas and very minimal white space. 

bad wifi is your everyday lifestyle. 

Curse Jun and his gift of choosing acting gigs where their filming locations are always in the ass-crack of nowhere. You’re both well accustomed to facetime with spotty service, delayed speech and glitchy faces. It’s turned into quite the game, as you both attempt to screenshot the worst photo of each other possible, while still maintaining your own image and reputation. It’s a pain to communicate, constantly having Jun reply to something you had said minutes ago, but you two make it work. 

dating rumors are a joke. 

With both of you being well into the social media spotlight, you’re prone to many, many dating rumors throughout your career. It’s Ateez’s Mingi one day, then TBZ’s Haknyeon the next, Jun doesn’t even bat an eye at this point. He knows who he is at the end of the day - your boyfriend. On the other hand, it’s not the first time he’s gotten an earful from you about dating rumors with his pretty costars, although he knows it’s all in good fun. All it takes is one sweet sentence to get you to fold: “it’s you I’m coming home to lao po, besides, can’t you see how forced that kiss is? I kiss you with much, much more fervor than that.” 

you see his friends more than you see him.

His friends run in the same circles as you do, all talented idols that often share your stage in performances. It’s funny to think you see them more often than you see him, although they’re always ready to tell you just how much Jun complains about your distance in their group chat, exposing you boyfriend to be the clingy lover he really is. They’ve aided you many times in sneaking away from your job to visit Jun, covering your ass so you can spend even just a couple hours with your boyfriend in China. 

planes and airports are the ideal date spot.

It’s not rare to have the two of you go on a “date” at airports, using the special time your schedules cross over to spend time with each other. The airport buffets become your picnics, the lobby fountains hear all your well kept wishes and the seating area has seen…one too many things. 

your jokes are the world’s jokes

Jun loves slipping little tidbits of your shared life into his work, nudging the writer of whatever project he’s starring in to add a couple lines referencing something only the two of you would know. He loves your shocked expression when the project finally airs to the world, his phone blowing up with loving texts as you swallow the idea that your lover has included you in his work. It’s just his talent - Jun somehow finds a way to bring you everywhere with him. 

your love is the world’s love

You would never admit it on camera, but most of your lyrics and songs are either written with or written about Jun. While everyone else is scrambling to figure out just how you do it, you and Jun can rest easy knowing it’s your shared secret, along with your secret romance. 

[garbinge]

Shot To The Heart

Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader (turned SWAT/TEMS) 30 Day Fic Challenge (13/30)

Word Count: 1.3k A/N: Just something small for this wife reader/Tim universe I occasionally write for. Looking forward to season 7, and hopefully a Chenford reunion lol.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of violence, gunshot wounds, ptsd, wat flashbacks, hospitalization, light angst. The Rookie Taglist: @simrah1012 @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @afuckingshituniverse Other fics with this reader: Clean Cut - Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader Earthquakes and Promotions - Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader

“Hey I was just about to call you, I’m wrapping up my shift but the team is heading to get drinks, figured you could meet us there? We’re going to that spot that has those mojitos you like.” Tim had a smile on his face as he answered your phone call. He was walking through the station towards the men’s locker room, ready to change out of the stench of a long patrol day.

“Before you freak out, I want you to know I’m okay.” Your voice was completely opposite of his. It wasn’t shaky for what happened, but you were solemn and still in your delivery. It was honestly silly to start your conversation this way, Tim wasn’t one to freak out, but he was one to think the worst first. 

“What happened?” His voice immediately matched yours. Very typical for people that held the positions you did, to be calm under crisis. 

“I got shot on shift today. I’m at the hospital.” 

“You what?” Tim had stopped in his tracks immediately waiting for more information. 

“My thigh, it’s not a big deal. It missed my artery but protocol is for me to be here for the next couple days.” You didn’t exactly want to get into details but you knew you had to give him some information. 

“Why am I just finding this out?” Tim was now rushing to the exit doors. 

“I told them not to call you, I wanted you to hear it from me, not some random SWAT member.” 

“You do realize they’re not random, they come to all our barbecues, we’ve been to their weddings…” Tim was starting to argue with you. “Not to mention, I should’ve heard it on the radio.” 

“Really wanna argue with me right now, Bradford?” You sighed despite the smile on your face. 

“I really wanna know what happened.” 

You could hear his truck engine start in the background and from that you knew he was going to be at the hospital in minutes. 

“We got called in on some cartel tip, it was off-channel, stealth.” You explained knowing he wasn’t going to let it go. “I was applying aid to a hostage and it just happened.” 

“I really hope you didn’t write your report that way.” Annoyance was dripping off his tone. 

“Tim.” You said with the same amount of annoyance. 

“No, you don’t get to be mad at me for being mad.” He was on the highway now, you could hear the change in background noise. “I’ll be there in 5 minutes.” 

With that he hung up, and was in front of you within minutes. It made you wonder where he left his truck and who he talked to before getting to your room. 

“Jesus.” He was at the edge of the bed looking down at you. “How you holdin’ up?” 

“I’m fine, I just wanna go home.” You brushed him off. 

“What the hell happened out there?” His voice didn’t sound angry like it did on the phone, he was genuinely upset. 

“I told you, it happened fast, I was applying aid and then the next we were under fire.” You shook your head, not able to look him in the eye. 

At that motion he walked over to the side of the bed, quickly engulfing you in a hug. “I know when you’re lying to me.” He mumbled into the top of your head before placing a kiss there. 

You leaned into him, despite all his gear from his belt making it rather unpleasant to be in his embrace, it was the most comfortable you’ve felt since everything happened. You leaned into him more, gripping him closer to you when you let out a little sob. 

He gently scooted you over, making sure he didn’t aggravate or even touch the leg with the bullet wound. It was just enough so that he could sit next to you in the bed and shield you from prying eyes outside. 

“It’s alright.” He hummed as he rubbed your back up and down. A nurse had entered at one point and Tim just politely smiled and asked if the two of you could have a couple minutes. 

The tears you let escape you were some that you hadn’t shed in years. It was buried down deep, being in your field, being at war, it did that to you, it bottled everything up and left you to deal with it at another time, and each time being more inconvenient than the last left for it to overflow now. 

As you calmed down, you took a deep breath and wiped your face before looking at Tim. 

“You went back.” Tim said not needing you to say anything in explanation about what happened. 

“It was like I was right back in Afghanistan.” You nodded. 

“Protocols are different here.” Tim tilted his head to look at you, wondering if he pushed you into this too soon. 

“Yea, they got me on probation. Seeing the shrink tomorrow where they’ll figure out when I’m cleared for active duty.” 

“You know, if you wanted to go back to work at the hospital, no one would hold it against you.” Tim offered up a solution that was more for him than it was for you. 

“I was doing fine up until now, I think all the dust from the desert we were in, my hands wrist deep into this guys abdomen, brought me back to when you were bleeding out in front of me. Getting shot brought me back to the moment, it was like the shake back to reality I needed.” You shook your head as you thought through it all. 

“Yea the shrinks gonna have a ball with you.” Tim teased you before getting serious. “You’ve always been self-aware. On top of your shit, you’ll be back on active duty in no time.” 

“You sound worried.” It was obvious to notice the hesitancy in his voice. 

“Just can’t help but feel like I pushed you to this.” Tim sighed deeply. 

“I chose this.” You began to argue with him. 

“But I planted the seed.” He argued back. 

“You give yourself too much credit.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Remember when the Chief’s daughter came in, and I took her on as my patient, he saw how I handled everything, when they checked out, he mentioned how I might be good in TEMS. I brushed it off, but when you brought it up again, it just was harder and harder to brush it off. It just made sense.” 

Tim looked down at you shocked that you never mentioned what his boss said to you. 

“I’m just saying, don’t give yourself the credit for this.” You shrugged and teased him. 

“I just want to make sure you’re good.” Tim got serious again after letting out a laugh from your tease. 

“I’m fine, and after I see Dr. Shrink tomorrow I’ll be even better.” 

“You’re not opposed to it, which is already how I know you’re fine.” Tim joked as he brought you closer to him as both of you relaxed in the bed. 

“That’s that machismo stigma, I love talking to people about my problems. Which, speaking of, you didn’t take the trash out this morning.” 

Tim let out a belly laugh, “I’ll be sure to take it out tonight.” 

“No you won’t. You’re staying with me, Sarge.” And with that you cuddled into him as best as you could and closed your eyes so you could get as many minutes in the the most comfortable sleep you’d get while being in the hospital. 

[lifeinacartoon]

CREATING AUTHENTIC DEAF AND HARD OF HEARING CHARACTERS: A WRITER'S JOURNAL

Introduction

Creating authentic characters in your writing is essential for engaging storytelling, and this includes characters who are deaf or hard of hearing. To craft a character that accurately represents this community, it's crucial to do your research, gain a deep understanding of their experiences, and portray them with sensitivity and respect. In this journal, we'll explore how to write a deaf or hard-of-hearing character, including key information and preparation steps.

Understanding Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing Characters

Research: Start by researching deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals' experiences, challenges, and culture. Read books, articles, and personal stories, and watch documentaries or interviews featuring members of the Deaf community.

Consult with Experts: Reach out to members of the Deaf community or experts in Deaf studies to gain insights into their experiences. They can provide invaluable guidance and help you avoid common misconceptions.

Diversity Within the Community: Understand that the Deaf and hard-of-hearing communities are diverse. Some individuals communicate using sign language, while others rely on lip-reading, cochlear implants, or hearing aids. Be aware of these differences when creating your character.

Character Development

Backstory and Identity: Consider your character's background. Were they born deaf, or did they become deaf later in life? How do they identify within the Deaf community? Understanding their identity and experiences will shape their character.

Language and Communication: Decide how your character communicates. Are they fluent in sign language, or do they primarily rely on lip-reading and spoken language? Their communication style will influence their interactions with other characters.

Cultural Awareness: Explore the cultural aspects of the Deaf community. Understand the importance of Deaf culture, including its history, art, and values. Incorporate these elements into your character's life when relevant.

Writing Tips

Dialogue and Communication: When writing dialogue for a deaf or hard-of-hearing character, be mindful of their unique communication style. Use visual cues, body language, and facial expressions to convey emotions and context.

Access to Information: Consider the challenges your character may face in accessing information. This could involve issues with closed captioning, subtitles, or accommodations in educational or work settings.

Social Interactions: Depict social interactions realistically. Show how your character navigates conversations, group dynamics, and social events within their community and with hearing individuals.

Preparation

Sensitivity Readers: Consider hiring sensitivity readers who are part of the Deaf or hard-of-hearing community to review your work and provide feedback. Their insights can help you avoid stereotypes and inaccuracies.

Learn Sign Language: If your character uses sign language, take the time to learn at least basic signs. This will not only enrich your writing but also demonstrate your commitment to accuracy.

Beta Readers: Seek feedback from a diverse group of beta readers who can assess the authenticity of your character and offer constructive criticism.

Engage with the Community: Attend Deaf community events, workshops, or online forums to immerse yourself in the culture and better understand the perspectives and experiences of deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals.

Creating a deaf or hard-of-hearing character that resonates with readers requires dedication, empathy, and thorough research. By following these steps and embracing the rich culture and diversity of the Deaf community, you can create a character that is not only authentic but also promotes understanding and inclusivity in your writing. In addition, when writing dialogue for your deaf or hard-of-hearing character, remember:

It's important to clarify why, when writing dialogue for a deaf character, you should continue to use structured English grammar and not sign language structured grammar.

Maintaining Structured English Grammar:

Readability: Writing in structured English grammar ensures that the text remains accessible and comprehensible to all readers, including those who may not be familiar with sign language or Deaf culture. It avoids potential confusion that could arise from using sign language grammar in written text.

Universal Understanding: English is a global language, and adhering to its grammar rules allows for a wider audience to understand and engage with your story. Sign language grammar varies between different sign languages, making it less universally applicable in written form.

Respect for the Medium: While sign language is a rich and expressive mode of communication, it is primarily a visual and gestural language. Attempting to replicate sign language grammar in written text can be cumbersome and may not fully capture the nuances of sign language communication.

Balance of Realism and Readability: Striking a balance between authenticity and readability is crucial in storytelling. Maintaining structured English grammar while depicting a deaf character's interactions helps convey the character's experience without compromising the reader's ability to follow the narrative.

As an illustration, consider the following text: Dialogues with Descriptive Sign Language:

Sarah greeted John with a warm smile, her hands moving gracefully as she signed, "Hi, how are you?"

John returned the greeting in sign language, his expressions mirroring his words. "I'm good, thanks. Did you see the new movie?"

Sarah's eyes lit up as she signed back enthusiastically, "Yes, I loved it!"

In summary, using structured English grammar when writing dialogue for a deaf character is a practical and respectful choice that ensures your writing remains inclusive and accessible to a broad audience while still authentically representing the character's identity and experiences.

Furthermore, it's essential to avoid creating a character who is overly perfect or one-dimensional. In real life, we understand that everyone has imperfections and complexities, regardless of whether they are deaf or hard of hearing. Therefore, it's entirely acceptable to depict your character as a villain with a hearing issue if that aligns with your storytelling goals.

[drysdalesworld]

puppy love

luke hughes x fem!reader

youruser just posted!

liked by yourbestie, userone, and more

youruser: on today’s adventure with bandit and y/n, we almost got run over by a (nearly blind) 6’2 blond who didn’t see us crossing the street (i was wearing a bright pink shirt) & are forever scarred from the experience. tho, he apologized with mcdonalds & gave bandit all the kisses in hopes of forgiveness (he forgave him 🙄 – my villain origin story fr). anywho, glad we survived & came out unscathed 💪

( loading comments ! )

yourbestie: you gave me a literal heart attack when you called me saying you almost died. i was nearly ready to run to your aid bbg 😪

userone: babes, you let him into your home?? mans NEARLY killed you

youruser: he’s very charismatic

youruser: & persuasive

usertwo: i love hearing about y/n and bandit’s daily adventures. it’s like the highlight of my day fr

markestapa: hearing about this the minute it happened is truly an experience i will never forget

edwards73: i legit thought he was crying lol

rutgermcgroarty: “i just almost hit a pretty girl and her puppy. im legit the worst person to ever walk this earth!”

dylanduke25: hearing her cuss him out in the background is my roman empire fr

markestapa: she said some very colorful words to our boy 😂

userthree: all these umich boys in y/n’s comments & yet none of them are exposing who it is 😭

userfour: fr like i need to know❗️❗️

edwards73: he told me to tell you that he will buy you all the mcdonalds you want if you forgive him

youruser: i’ll think it about it

markestapa: he’s literally begging on his knees

userfive: damn whoever it is, they’re exposing him lol

yoursibling: of course this happens to you smh

yourbestie2: bandits new dad??? 👀

lhughes_06 just posted!

liked by seamuscasey26, _quinnhughes, and more

lhughes_06: i’ve been promoted to dog walker 🐕👨‍🦯

tagged: youruser

( loading comments! )

youruser: the best dog walker there is!

luca.fantilli: bandit literally dragged him down the street

dylanduke25: & he’s like a fifteen pound dog. that dog’s stronger than luke

userone: ngl i was expecting a bigger reveal

_quinnhughes: at least he’s learning some responsibility

usertwo: the second pic ❤️❤️❤️

userthree: i wonder how luke truly did not see y/n when she was crossing the road?? like what was boy doing to NOT see her?? 🤔

youruser: that’s what i’ve been wondering these past few months lhughes_06

lhughes_06: oops??? i told you i didn’t see you cross the street 😫

jackhughes: boy ik you lying since your head practically hits the top of the car roof. you def saw the poor girl 😭 lhughes_06

markestapa: bring bandit over more often please 🙏🤍

userfour: not jack exposing luke in userthree’s comment thread 👀

youruser just posted!

liked by elhughes, adamfantilli, and more

youruser: nearly three years with you and all you had to do was nearly kill me and my dog to get my attention 💓💓

tagged: lhughes_06

( loading comments! )

jackhughes: ahh, puppy love ❤️

lhughes_06: you’re never going to let that go are you? 🫤

youruser: lemme think….🤔

youruser: uh no <3

yourbestie: i better be the maid of honor 💢❗️

edwards73: i cant wait to hear about how they met at their wedding. what a meet cute fr

elhughes: i hope he’s learned his lesson by now! 💛💙

youruser: of course mama hughes! im just giving him a hard time 🤍

userone: if i don’t meet my future partner like this, then i don’t want it ❗️❗️

usertwo: i can’t believe it’s been three years! bandits so big now :(

userthree: ikr! feels like just yesterday i stumbled upon y/n’s post about it

userfour: how the time flies

rutgermcgroarty: i volunteer to be bandit’s sitter during your dates!

seamuscasey26: hey no fair! i called dibs first!

lhughes_06: god i love you

youruser: i love you too lukey 💞

[zillatastic]

rapper! ony x singer! reader

summary: good girl gone bad ; you just can’t get enough of rapper ! ony who has made a name for himself for participating in a plethora of (usually) one-sided rap beefs, being a creative lyricist/producer, & being such a bad influence to your heart.

(I suck at summarizing ಥ_ಥ̥)

this post contains: head-cannons, cursing, n-word usage, smidge of smut, spelling errors, lowercase grammar, semi-toxic ! ony or wtv, crybaby ! reader, vague description of reader’s body, lowk clickbaited summary, not proofread.

▬▬ rapper! ony who “accidentally” leaks a snippet of his new song with your moans as the intro melody.

much to your horror the audio blows up on tiktok and now every time you open the app, that accursed audio plays.

the worst thing about it is that every time you bring up the audio to ony and question how it even got leaked in the first place, you’re met with a..

“mmcht, ma, for the last time I don’t know how it got leaked. connie’s dumb ass must have did something stupid and posted the wrong shit.”

or a..

“fatbutt, I don’t know why you complaining. you sound sexy as fuck and the fans wanna hear more of the track once i release it. you don’t wanna disappoint our fans, right ma?”

“n-no, I don’t wanna disappoint them but I just don’t feel comfortable with it. maybe you can call connie one more time and try to get it taken care of ?”

“ight.”

it never gets taken care of, in fact three weeks later ony drops the song with eren as featured artist which doubles the song’s popularity and makes it on the billboard hot 100.

“whose pussy is this, ma ? ~ mhm tell me ?” ony asks while delivering slow harsh strokes into your trembling body. your hair wrapped tightly in his hands as it helps aid his assault into your weeping cunt while his free hand is gripping your midsection equally as tight.

“f-fucknmhm, it’s yours pa,” ony’s abusive thrusts to your pussy force your words to ball up in the back of your throat as you try to concentrate on listening to his commands and hold the phone recording the intimate moment.

watching the phone slowly start to slip through your half- boneless hands, it urged him to re-wrap your hair (tightly) into his hands and harshly lift your body onto his chest while continuing his now- upward thrusts into your cunt. the new angle allowed a deeper reach into your cervix as ony heartlessly knocked into it. “say it louder for the camera baby. whose owns this pussy ?”

“ony does, ony owns my pussy. fuck~ please pa I’m so close.”

“good girl, ma. you so pretty when you cry. now cum for me.” ony commands as he watches your body tremble in pure overstimulation and pleasure. biting his lip as he gently wipes the tears from out the corner your eyes and leans down to kiss your cheek.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who can sense when someone is making his girl laugh.

“ony what is your opinion on the Kendrick vs Drake beef?” a reporter asked while shoving her mic into his face.

ony who was tired of being asked this question sighed and tried his best to formulate a sentence that would not offend either rapper.

“well you know I be-” he stops mid sentence to turn around before hearing the soft chuckle of his girlfriend from across the garden of the regal event.

the reporter who was standing there unanswered lifted a brow and tried to gain ony’s attention back on the question for it’s live broadcasted audience.

“umm, ony ?” the reporter asked until she heard a feminine chuckle from the other side of her. the reporter and the cameraman turned swiftly to what caught ony’s eye to see you laughing hysterically at something thee Brent Faiyaz said.

“I’ll be back.” ony mumbled.

(damn.. someone stole my bitch.)

▬▬ rapper ! ony who promotes your music to his hardcore fan base.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who cannot keep his hands off your body.

he is stuck to you like white on rice.

you physically cannot escape this man because his strong arms are always securely wrapped around your waist, neck or arm.

ony isn’t a controlling person, but he is very clingy. he likes to feel the presence of his girl around him and having a body part of his connect to yours-

It sedates him.

cheesy? I know.. but he’s your man, so you’ll deal with it.

▬▬ rapper ! ony whose mean mug is nasty.

he does not play when it comes to people besides him being handsy with you.

ony’s sideeye has become a stan twitter icon.

in the earlier stages of your blooming relationship ony did not want to come off as too overbearing (he is) and let a lot of of his boundaries be overstepped. he never wanted to cause a big scene, so he always used his face to project his emotions instead of his words and fist.

a particular event where you had been pulled to the side to be interviewed had blown up all over social media because of ony deviously standing in the back- mugging the fuck out of the reporter whose hands were on the small of your back.

retweets of the incident had you delighted while ony was rather annoyed.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who dedicates an entire album to you.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who corrects your behavior.

ony has eyes all over. never forget that.

you two had gotten into an argument the day before over something small. at this point you had already forgotten what you two were arguing about, but the impact of the altercation was still there.

you despised when ony bested you in an argument and in retaliation you decided to attend a not-so little house party that ony advised you not to attend.

so what did you do?

you went to the party.

that night you’d tell ony that it was all sasha’s fault, but this was a conscious choice made by yourself.

that night you were spent bent over ony’s leg being spanked till tears then finger fucked.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who can’t stop talking about you during interviews.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who verbally dragged another artist who decided it would be cute to throw shade at your new single.

“ony, delete the tweet.” with your hands on your hips you let out a deep sigh. you two have been bickering back and forth all evening about the tweet-simply because you didn’t care what someone with barely 500k streams had to say.

“no, she’s gonna learn to pick her battles wisely today, ma.”

“oh my fucking god onyankopon put the phone down.”

(end of rapper! ony x singer! reader headcannons pt. 1)

author note: thank you so much for reading and noting. I have not written in years (2019-22) and I wanted to jump back into something new. usually I would’ve written a 10k fanfic on naruto but I’ve been tuning into a lot of aot/jjk content and I’ve decided this is my new era of writing. I cannot wait to find my own comfort and flow with this new fandom !!

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴇɪᴛʏ

✒ ᴄᴜᴘɪᴅ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏᴛ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ (ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ꜱᴄʀʏɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴡʟ), ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴜʜ. ʀᴀᴄɪꜱᴍ (ᴛʜɪꜱ ɢᴏᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋꜱ ᴅᴏ��ɴ ᴏɴ ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟꜱ!), ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ɢᴏʀᴇ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ, ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, Qʜᴇᴛᴏʜʀ ᴊᴜᴍᴘꜱᴄᴀʀᴇ, [ɴᴀᴍᴇ] ɪꜱ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ꜱᴀᴄʀɪꜰɪᴄᴇ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ!

Yandere Love Deity whose temple you grew up in; Intricate paintings and marble sculptures depicting their ethereal figure surrounding you as the years pass and you go from being one of the children raised within the temple’s immaculate halls, to the most devoted priest serving Luvarin. 

You firmly believe that love goes beyond just romance, the love between two partners in union, but extends to a love that matters just as much; the love between family, between friends, or even the simple love for your neighbour. It shows in how you preach, emphasising the importance of that connection and teaching the children that just as they should pursue the kind of love depicted in the sacred partnerships of the Gods, they should search for the love between two great friends, like that of the Merciful One and his sibling Qhetohr. 

Yandere Love Deity who hears your name in only a few months after your induction into priesthood. But really, they took notice of your presence before that. It was hard not to. Not when your offerings were always of the highest quality: Intricate carvings of sparrows, wines brewed with the strawberries grown in the temple, and not to mention the hymns you sang and wrote for them which were always a delight to listen to. 

But what really drew them to your offerings was not merely the quality, no, no, they had no shortage of extravagant offerings from their wealthy followers. It was the fact that you had taken the time to create them yourself. Now, handcrafted gifts weren’t uncommon either, but really it was the dedication. To truly devote yourself to creating such impeccable displays of faith… why, it was enough to make their heart flutter. And that was no small feat. Luvarin decides that it’s high time that they reward you. 

It’s small at first. Little things that build progressively till you realise that life has been treating you suspiciously too well recently. Your recently published text debating the moral lesson one should take from the fall of the house of Arus has taken off to unforeseen heights. You’ve been promoted in the temple. You managed to avoid getting hit by a vase dropped right on top of you, unintentionally of course, because it somehow, miraculously, got blown away by the wind. 

Yandere Love Deity, who is of course, the one responsible for it all. It’s almost like you know that, because your prayers become more intimate and personal. Truly grateful for everything Luvarin is doing for you– Well you don’t exactly address it to Luvarin, you’re praying to the Gods in general, but still. They’re the reason why you’re so lucky in the first place, and hearing you passionately thanking them so genuinely, is enough to have them giggle and kick their feet with absolute delight. 

‘O Children of Kases, hear my call, I offer you my deepest gratitude, for the countless blessings you bestow upon my path, For the love that surrounds me, both seen and unseen, for the beauty of the world and the kindness of hearts.

Thank you for the lessons, both gentle and harsh, that shape me, mold me, and help me grow. For the strength to overcome challenges, And the wisdom to see the truth within. 

In the quiet whisper of the leaves, In the gentle glow of the moon, I feel your essence, ever near, Guiding me, loving me, holding me….’

Laying in the fluffy, warm, and comfortable surface of their bed, Luvarin sighs. Truly, they were amazing. They’re aware that your prayer is not just for them, but for all their siblings as well, but sheesh, who were they kidding? Of course, this prayer was meant for them! Who else has been aiding you so much? Giving you such powerful blessings and bountiful gifts, their merciful brother had competition!

Luvarin sits up, and summons their scrying bowl. It was a new one that they haven’t used yet, it was a gift from you, one of your beautiful wood carvings. 

They don’t usually like using wood in their equipment, it was for commoner mortals. But this bowl was of a perfect shape, the width was of their exact preference, it wasn’t flimsy and easily scratched or damaged, and it was designed with carved drawings of myths that centred around Luvarin themself. 

Seriously, how lucky could they be, to have a follower as devoted and as considerate with his offerings as you are. Compared to the rough and unpolished quality of the mere commoners and the superficial and needlessly gaudy level the nobles reached, yours were a breath of fresh air in how much care was placed into them. 

Thinking about it is enough for Luvarin's already present smile to widen further.

Luvarin waves their hand in a delicate flourish, and the bowl fills itself with a clear, mystical water, the surface shimmering with images of the activity below the heavens. They press one tawny finger, and it pauses. 

Their brow furrows in concentration, Luvarin purses their lip, and close their eyes as they search for your presence. 

“Aha!” There you are darling.

Luvarin's eyes open, gleaming purple, and they clap their hands with delight as the water morphs to show them the familiar sight of your room in the temple. The bed on the right, blanket strewn haphazardly on the soft mattress. Your desk is on the left covered in the drafts for your latest text. Then there's you, on your knees in front of the window, hands held in prayerful position, head bowed submissively and your eyes closed in concentration. The moonlight pouring in and shining down on you.

Despite being one of Kases’ powerful children, a literal god, Luvarin was a mere afterthought to the mortals. Unlike mighty Uren, or their fearsome twin Qhetohr, why should one concern themself with the deity of Love for anything more than matters of romance? They were a joke in the Heavens, mortals literally painted them as a cherub with a pathetically small bow and a heart tipped arrow. 

Not to mention that a lot of their priests were nothing better than scammers who tricked desperate and lonely people and naive mortals who believed that serving in Luvarin's temple could give them luck in their love life. 

But, then there was you. [Name]. Sweet, genuine [Name]. 

Luvarin traces their finger around your face, enjoying each and every detail. Sometimes, when they watch you, from the scrying bowl or in the form of a sparrow, they have the desire to just reach out and touch you. To truly feel the warmth that you radiated. To know that you're real, and not just something that their mind has come up with. 

A wisp blows in. Luvarin clicks their tongue, less than pleased about the interruption. They snatch it out of the air, it wiggles and tries to escape from their grasp, but eventually it tires. 

“Speak,” Luvarin drawls, tapping on their leg impatiently. 

Wisps, little creatures born from the mist of the Jaurdenia River and used by Luvarin and their siblings as messengers. Round, bouncy, balls of wind that glowed far too brightly for Luvarin's keen eyes. They were cute and Luvarin loved to throw them around their palace and watch them zip and crash into the walls, but right now it was [Name] time, and [Name] time was as sacred to them as the annual Luvercalia ritual. 

The wisp squirms a bit, their golden centre glowing darker in concentration, before relaxing as the honey-like smoke pours out of it. The whispers of their merciful brother carried by the fumes, “Luvarin, please do know that I will be visiting you soon to discuss some matters.” 

Luvarin groans, frustration rolling off of them in waves. They loved their merciful brother. Really who didn't? But they'd much rather get back to watching you from the scrying bowl and listening to you sing their praises. 

However deep down Luvarin knows that if they were to not show up, then he would worry and tell Qhetohr to check on them, and then Qhetohr would find about you and then– 

To the deepest pits of Demorta, why are they dreading the mere idea of Qhetohr discovering you? Their beautiful, precious, fragile mortal. Oh, it's precisely because of that. You're mortal, you're fragile, and Qhetohr would delight in absolutely tearing you to shreds if they found out you're the reason why Luvarin stood up their merciful brother. 

Luvarin gnashed their teeth, their hand squeezed the wisp so tightly in their stress, they're snapped out of their furious thoughts by a sharp pop and the cool mist that seeps through their closed fist; the remains of the unfortunate wisp. 

Fine. Fine! If that is what must be done to keep you a secret, safe from Qhetohr’s blade. Then they'll do it. 

Luvarin waves away the scrying bowl, and with a flourish of their hand, a regal purple chlamys settles over their shoulders and they rub at the cool, golden brooch holding it in place. 

Their steps echo through the lavish, empty halls of their palace. A bird flies through the nearby garden, sunlight seeping in through the gaps between the chiselled pillar, and the smell of rain-soaked leaves pervades the air. Last night they forgot to renew the barriers that prevented the rain from getting in. Usually they would just flick their wrist to get the job done, but they were watching you work away at your latest text on Uren's Rebellion. 

Luvarin halts as a realisation dawns on them. When did they start to care for you? If they paused and took a look at the situation, it was strange. It shouldn’t even be possible. 

Them, a Love God. Twin to Destruction and Insanity themself. One of Kases’ powerful children. A literal living legend, responsible for the Fall of the House of Arus. And here they are, pouring their time and attention into a simple priest, their very own servant, and practically mooning over him instead of doing literally anything else. 

Before they can ponder further on this topic, a familiar figure enters their view. He waves, and flashes them a smile that Qhetohr would kill to keep for themself. Luvarin beams, pretty portrait perfect smile reserved for greeting guests and people they would rather not deal with at the current moment. 

They’ll deal with you later. They have all the time in the world, after all. 

Yandere Love Deity who starts to fall in love with you. They would like to say that it’s a slow and gradual process. But honestly, it’s not. It’s humiliating how quickly it all happens. One day they’re watching you writing your newest text, one moment you’re pondering your next sentence, then your eyes light up with a brilliant idea and Luvarin can’t help but genuinely smile, because they’re happy for you, for your breakthrough, because it’s something that you wanted, and what you want they want you to get and when that thought pops into their head that’s when they realise what the burning flame in their heart actually is. 

Yandere Love Deity who has had mortal lovers. They were all the same; Bold, filthy little creatures full of hubris that thought they could surpass the children of Kases. Luvarin’s infatuation with them never lasted long, they weren't meant to. They were all only mortal after all. And they completely expect the same to be true with you. Yes, they know what they’re feeling is love, but really what is the difference between loving something and desiring it?

So they descend to earth in human form, ready to charm you, have a bit of fun, and then leave like it’s nothing. It should be easy, right? 

Yandere Love Deity who disguises themself as a wandering traveller, settling into the town for a short while. After all, Luvercalia is coming soon, what traveler wouldn't want to take this opportunity to partake in the festival right in the town that Luvarin had once used as their base of operations during the rebellion? Mortals were weird, but they get it. To witness the sacred ritual dedicated to Luvarin take place on the very soil their holy blood was once spilled on, any god worshipping mortal worth their salt would not hesitate to take this opportunity. They are simply as one would say, blending in with the locals. 

Yandere Love Deity whose first meeting with you is not like what they imagined at first. They imagined that they'd charm you first, then they would sweep you off of your feet and seduce you into breaking your vow of chastity, pardon you from whatever punishment they dished out nowadays and then leave. 

Yandere Love Deity who barely even  gets to say since you're running through the town, making preparations for the upcoming Luvercalia festival and the ritual. Instead of a proper introduction where the two of you exchange pleasantries and get to know each other, all you get to say is: “Ah, hello traveler. Please, make yourself welcome here.” Before being pulled away to select a sparrow to sacrifice for the ritual.

But then they manage to catch you in your downtime, and you look at them for a moment as if you're trying to figure out where you've seen them before, and then you snap your fingers and you smile, your eyes creasing and wrinkling a bit at the edges and you apologize for not getting to introduce yourself properly earlier, but you remember them. You remember them even if they were probably nothing more than just one nameless face in your hectic day, and that… for some reason the mere fact that they were still important enough for you to remember amidst everything else that was going on, it just… 

Yandere Love Deity who isn’t prepared for how you make them feel. Holy.. the way you have their heart racing has them thinking you are the one who’s the god of love here, and they’re the one who should be worshipping you and singing your praises. Just seeing your smile has them weak in the knees. It shouldn’t be possible, you’re just some mortal destined to die out and fade away while they are a literal God, who has seen kingdoms and empires fall and rise in what to you is centuries, but to them is merely a small drop of water in the vast ocean of their existence. 

Yandere Love Deity, who still thinks that they can get out of this. Just like their destructive twin, they’re as stubborn as a mule. An immovable object that refuses to budge no matter how hard you push them. 

Yandere Love Deity who changes their mind so quickly it’s embarrassing. They try to distance themselves from you and pull themself out of whatever hold you have on them, but each and every attempt is foiled, not even on purpose, by you. You and your natural charms that has them caught, hook line and sinker. How can they not fall deeper in their love for you when you make it so easy to just descend deeper? 

Yandere Love Deity who continues to interact with you in mortal form. Slowly they become as much of a daily fixture in your life as you are in theirs, and they can't be more pleased about it. However their joy is short-lived when their greatest fear comes true; Qhetohr finds out. 

Cruel, wicked Qhetohr. Obsidian eyes curling with a malicious delight as they remind Luvarin that though beings such as them, deities, will continue to exist even when they will be forgotten and turn from reality to mere myth, that you will return to the dust and dirt that Uren used to mould your kind into shape.

Yandere Love Deity who comes to the realisation that a life without you is no life at all. And so they waste no time in ordering the clouds to part, for the sun to shine down right in front of you, and then descend down to you in their godly form, their entrance announced by pale rose petals gently floating down from the heavens.

Yandere Love Deity who does everything properly. They had a ring forged by Ularus, encrusted with small, absolutely dazzling rubies. They've wrapped it in a pure white cloth, with sparrows and roses embroidered into it. 

They get down on one knee and unveil the ring, and say those four famous words. 

“Will you marry me?”

Your eyes are wide and your mouth is gaping. Clearly you're shocked. They understand. You've just learned that sly, mischievous Erasmus is the very God you worship, serve, and mention in each prayer— and now they're proposing to you! It would be mind blowing for any mortal. 

But they let you calm down and process everything, they're patient like that, and they wait with bated breath and an eager grin for your response and the words that leave your lips are–

“I– Forgive me, Lord,” You take a shaky step back, your eyes dart around– People are staring– you purse your lips, “But I cannot accept your proposal. You're a god and I'm a mortal and it just– It won't work!”

“[Name], darling, please,” Luvarin laughs, clearly you're not thinking straight, still in shock they suppose, “In all the years that I have walked this earth, I have had many, and I am not joking when I say many, lovers. And many were just like you my love: Mortal. With crimson blood running through their veins and fragile bodies doomed to age.” 

They stand up and reach for your hand. You flinch and try to pull away, and even if their heart twinges, they soften their smile– Remember Luvarin, mortals are sensitive creatures. Be patient– and grip it tighter. 

You wince and they swear they can feel a phantom around their own hand in response.

Luvarin slips the ring on your finger. They wrap an arm around your waist, they ignore how you whimper and the fear in your eyes, and they bring you closer. 

“But you… darling, you are special. Compared to all those shallow creatures, your soul is vast, as wide as the earth, and the only one able to captivate me in the way that only you are uniquely capable of.”

“None of them can compare to you. Nobody can,” Luvarin can feel you shaking as they press a kiss to your temple, “And that is why I want– no need to marry you. I need you in my life [Name], and it's because you're mortal that we need to get married as soon as possible.”

You push them away, and this time they let you just so they can see the look on your face. 

Your brows are knit, and your lip is stiff. They've never seen this expression on you before. But they've seen it on Uren. On their merciful brother. On countless other gods and mortals through the ages. 

It was an expression that told Luvarin that they were about to hear something they didn't want to hear. 

Yandere Love Deity who thinks that you made an attempt to be gentle in your rejection, at least at first. But then it was their persistence that got to you. 

They saw glimpses of it in their time masquerading as a mortal. Your anger. It simmered underneath your skin and has been burning since you were young and pure. 

Their merciful brother told them, he knew you before when you barely reached their mortal form's waist, that you came from a pagan land. A land that was ransacked and pillaged and absorbed into Uren’s ruling. You came in, resentful and bitter with no desire to listen and obey to the people who killed your family. 

They know that you don't like the gods. Even now that you're a priest. But they thought that they were an exception, you got to know them as not a god after all, as Erasmus and not as Luvarin. 

Yandere Love Deity who is met with your frigid glare and… Gods, they can't bring themselves to remember the words you wielded like sharp blades. All they remember you telling them before they allow themselves to be swept away by the wind is that they should find another god to marry instead

Yandere Love Deity who weeps with such force that the skies turn grey, the oceans crash and churn, and the wind blows so violently it's nearly enough to have you whisked away from the earth's surface. It's enough to draw the attention of Qhetohr who cackles at the sight of Luvarin’s tear-stricken face. 

“I told you so!” Qhetohr’s obsidian eyes flash menacingly, “Mortals are fools. Arrogant, bumbling, fools. You could promise him the world and he would still turn up his nose at the thought of spending an eternity with you.” 

Luvarin clicks their tongue and avoids Qhetohr’s gaze, they wipe away their tears before facing their twin with a burning glare, its force lessened with the redness of their eyes, “Are you done?” 

Qhetohr snickers, they plop down on the kline beside Luvarin and hook an arm around their shoulders, ignoring their protests as they bring them closer, “Don’t be like that. After all,” Qhetohr smirks, “I’m here to help you.” 

Yandere Love Deity whose love for you turns bitter, it’s still there but it’s tinged with resentment, and Qhetohr only fans the flames higher till Luvarin doesn't think twice before saying yes to whatever Qhetohr has cooked up for you.

Yandere Love Deity who continues to watch you, watching as you experience misfortune. It starts with you injuring yourself more frequently. You struggle to think of what else to write in your latest text. The roses you've been growing in the temples wilt. If your public rejection of them wasn't enough already, this was enough to convince the town you're bad news. The temple's head priestess who once told you she understood why you refused Luvarin now glares at you coldly as she hands you your things and tells you you are no longer welcome within their walls.

Then it intensifies, your bad luck bleeding out into your surroundings. The food in the stores turn foul and rot. The animals start dying, flies surrounding their corpses and crows picking away at the meat. The village falls to unidentifiable sickness that the physicians and priests are not able to cure. It all comes to a head when the waters become infected and run black. 

Who else could be responsible other than the ex-priest who rejected his own god? 

They scream at you, they curse you out as your ‘brothers and sisters’ hold you down with flinty stares on top of the stone table. Your bare skin pressing on the cold surface. They stripped you down to your loincloth and doused you in the freezing waters of the Yulerine River all in preparation for this moment.  

One acolytes light the candles at the feet of the altar, and another one pours wine into a bowl and sets it in front of the statue of Luvarin behind you. A priestess lights the incense sticks and the air is filled with the scent of smoke tinged with roses.

The head priestess holds a hand up and closes it, the crowd goes quiet. You can see them, their purple eyes framed by their golden locks, royal and cold, narrowing with what you can only describe as a sadistic glee.

“We stand here today,” The head priestess bellows, “To witness the execution of a traitor to the temple, to our patron and god: Lord Luvarin.”

“Sister, please–”

“He has offended our Lord!” Her voice drowns out your pitiful voice, “And by his death, we shall rectify his foolish mistake. We shall offer his life as an offering to our Lord and beg for their forgiveness by giving them the man who has refused their love that which he does not deserve to have!”

You search the masses for somebody, anybody who can see past this farce and save you. But amidst the mass of people who you have grown up with, who you have helped, who you have supported through the hardest of times only to find aggression and rage that should not be directed at you. 

The head priestess starts to chant the prayers for ritual. The damn Luvercalia ritual. You want to laugh. You spent weeks planning everything meticulously down to the tiniest detail, and you don't even get to see the fruit of your labour because now instead of the sparrow you picked out from the town's aviary, the adorable little bird you've spent so much time grooming and preparing for this exact moment, you are now lying here, being rushed through the sacrifice preparations that should've been done over the course of two weeks. 

You want to laugh, and so you do because now that you're going to die you don't have to care about maintaining appearances. 

One of the acolytes holding you down, a teen boy with freckles and mousy hair named Kreo, glares at you, “Shut your mouth, swine.” 

You only laugh harder, because this little boy is trying to act tough when you've already seen him bawl his eyes out when he broke an ankle trying to save a cat from a tree. 

A balled up piece of cloth is shoved into your mouth and you choke on your own spit and gag as it touches the entrance of your throat.

Usually you love it when it rains, but when it starts to fall in slow drops, building up till eventually you're shivering from the rain, you want to cry because when you died, you at least wished for golden haired Ebris to grant you the mercy of letting the sun shine down on you in your final moments.

As the head priestess starts reciting the prayers, and the men and women who you grew up with in the temple anoint with you oils and salts for the sacrifice, you search for them in the sea of faces and you find them easily. Their lips spread into a devious grin, teeth shining from beneath their hood, and they mouth to you: This is your fault.

“This is your fault!” A grieving father screamed at you as he held his dying daughter. 

“This is your fault,” Your friend hissed at you from between her teeth when the cows on her family's farm began to drop like flies. 

“This is your fault,” The head priestess spoke with a measured tone when you were removed from the temple and your position as priest, “And that is why you are no longer welcome here.” 

The head priestess lifts her head from her prayer, and she spreads her arms wide, “Let the ritual begin!”

The people cheer as your eyes widen and you struggle against the hands holding you down. You try to find somebody with even a hint of pity in their face, but all you see is disgust and resentment.

Despite your struggle and the clear panic and fear in your eyes, an acolyte holds out a wooden box decorated with intricate carvings of flora and sparrows, too pretty to be holding the deadly sharp blade forged from Ofriedian metal that you had personally shined and sharpened to perfection. 

The head priestess plucks it out daintily, holding it with reverence. She weighs it in her hand, before gripping the hilt and pressing it against your bare skin. 

She leans down into your ear, you can barely hear her voice amidst the raucous noise of the eagerly awaiting villagers, “You have cursed us all with your actions,” Her breath that smells like citrus and ice fans against your sweaty face, “But today… today you can repent [Name]. What we are doing may seem wicked and cruel, but I assure you. This is for the greater good. By your death the village will be saved and our Lord Luvarin will forgive you.”

“You will thank me for this. You will thank us all.” 

The head priestess rises from where she bent down, and then she lifts the blade and presses it back down on the area of your upper abdomen, the cold blade digs into your skin, and the blood starts to seep out. 

At first as the knife pierces your skin, the pain is equivalent to an ant bite, if the ant's mandibles were aflame. Then she drags it across his skin like she's making one long stroke with a paintbrush, and a guttural scream is wrenched from your throat but is muffled by the gag and drowned out by the people's cheers.

–

Luvarin felt suffocated within the large mass of people, mortals. Sweaty, ailment stricken mortals burning with rage and righteous fury. Despite how sickening this was, they had to be here. 

They meet your gaze that is resentful and full of fear at the same time, and despite the tension between you two their heart flutters and their face breaks into a lovesick smile. Though it quickly morphs into a frown when you turn away. 

People keep jostling them and the mortal woman with grey streaks in her blonde hair is speaking, but the only thing that Luvarin cares about right now is you. 

You who have the kindest eyes they've ever seen. You who held them in your arms when on the nights they'd visit and pretend to be cold. You who despite your past continued to respect the gods and adhere to the strict rules that came with being a priest. 

Then they remember Qhetohr's words. And Luvarin remembers your other side.

Your other side. The you who looked at the ring, their genuine feelings, and listened to their heartfelt confession, who they allowed to see their vulnerabilities. The you who chose to turn your back to them just like he did all those years ago. 

Luvarin's hands clenched into fists, and their immaculate nails dug into their divine skin. They can hear you laughing from the altar, and that is enough to fan the flames of anger higher. Their skin breaks and golden ichor drips to the earth. 

Eventually your laughter is cut short when you are gagged, and somehow that only infuriates them even further. Emotions they can't understand are brewing inside of them, and it reflects in how the earth responds to them; the sky darkens, and the sound of distant thunder approaches. 

Rain starts to pour from the sky, and they can hear some of the mortals around them start murmuring about how Luvarin must be watching them. Yes, they're watching alright.

Luvarin flinches when you look at them again, they hope you don't notice. Looking at your eyes again, the fear seems to have only increased, and the anger is slowly being replaced by… regret. They smirk, and slowly it turns into a grin. 

Their lips move quicker than their brain, “Yes. This is your fault. Regret it. Regret it and wish that you had just come to me instead.”

They can see that as the rain runs down your face, so do tears. Tears that despite whatever they may want right now, they feel the need to wipe away with gentle kisses.

No! They curse in their head, You can't be thinking this again. Remember what Qhetohr told you. 

You could give him the world and he still wouldn't choose you. 

Before Luvarin knows it, the woman with greying hair lifts her arms to the sky and exclaims, “Let the ritual begin!”

Despite Luvarin's superior senses already being overrun by the harsh sound of ecstatic cheers, they can still hear your pitiful whimpering, like you're a wounded animal. 

The woman is handed an Ofriedian dagger and then–

Thunder strikes the same time you scream. 

Luvarin can't look away. It's like cold hands are digging into the sides of their head and are forcing them to witness consequences of their action.

The Luvercalia ritual traditionally has them cutting open the stomach of a fattened sparrow, removing the organs, and then cleaning it with purified water and then filling it with herbs before wrapping it with a rope soaked in purified oil and tied to a stick before it is lit on fire. 

You kick and fight, tears streaming down your face, indistinguishable from the rain. The woman cuts your stomach open, stopping when the blade reaches the beginning of your loincloth. Blood starts to seep from the wound, the flow intensifying when two acolytes dig their hands in your wound, ignoring your thrashing, and pull the wound open wider. Luvarin feels as if their own stomach is being ripped open as they continue to watch this.

The woman's face is calm and serene, but her eyes have a satisfied gleam as she rolls up the sleeves of her pristine white robes. She reaches a hand in and starts to pull out your organs. The way she goes about can only be described as methodical. First she cuts out the liver, then the gallbladder. She's unbothered by the crimson that begins to stain her skin and bleed into her soul that no amount of prayers or bathing would remove. Hair falls in front of her face as she is pulling out the stomach and a priestess immediately steps in to tuck it behind her ears. 

Luvarin has seen no small amount of blood in their lifetime, before they were an adorable cherub, they were a war hero who walked a road soaked in gore and ichor but this… They… They can't bear the sight of your violent but ultimately futile attempts to break free that only grow weaker as the light begins… Oh gods. 

Luvarin shoves a hand over their mouth and pushes their way out of the crowd, ignoring the protests of those pulled out of the trance the ritual placed on them. 

They barely step foot out before their immortal body is no longer able to hold any of it in. 

As they heave, they try to grasp your heartbeat and stabilise it. You don't deserve this. They made a mistake, but they could still fix this. But just as they're trying to anchor you in the land of the living, something else, a deity or something of equal power, is dragging you to Demorta. 

No, they weren't going to let you leave them, you were going to stay with them and they were going to fight harder than before, and this time they won't accept any rejection you may have ready for them. 

However maybe it was the vomiting, or the opposing force was simply that powerful. Whatever it was, when they whip their head around as soon as they can no longer hear your already fading heartbeat, they use their enhanced eyesight and you– You've stopped moving. The blood is slowly pouring down the altar, moving slowly, oozing even. 

They are already cleaning the now hollowed out stomach of your body and reciting the blessings to purify the herbs. Rosemary. Basil. Sage. Lavender. Thyme.

Luvarin is still as they watch the woman, hands cleaned but forever dirtied with your innocence, place the herbs inside, and then sew up your chest before closing your eyes. 

She claps her hands, and they tie you to a large wooden pillar with the rope. They recognize the wood, they– they can see the little carving you etched into its surface when the two of you visited the grove. 

You smiled as you sheathed the dagger back on the strap in your leg, satisfied with your work.

The first letter of both of your names with a + sign in between the two of them. 

“Some of my finest work yet,” You chuckled, but the look in your eyes tells them it's more than just a joke. 

They brush their hand against the letters, and they smile. It's not perfect, but it's.. it's human. 

“Do you like it?”

“I… I love it.” 

The woman recites prayers before your body as an acolyte waves a golden thurible around your body, letting the smoke curl itself around your corpse and purifying the body these so called holy servants of theirs have sullied with their cruel, filthy hands. 

A man, the village chief, steps forward with a burning torch that struggles to remain lit against the rain that has only grown stronger. He turns to the woman, “Priestess, are you sure that this will work? The rain–”

“The fact that it is still lit is a sign Xander,” She nods toward the unlit pyre, “Please, get on with  it.” 

He nods, and lights the pyre. It is weak, sputtering, and despite the muttered prayers of the temple’s servants and the mortals watching, the flames die out. Killed by the rain. 

“Priestess…” The village chief starts, but the priestess raises a hand. 

“This is… It is an issue with [Name],” She looks to the sky, “Luvarin may not want anything to do with him anymore.” 

Those words cause something to snap inside of them, and as if in response lightning strikes the pyre. The priestess gasps, the village chief falls on his ass, and the people are struck with fear. However the lightning does not set the body aflame, instead the fire lights the earth and it spreads faster than the rain can extinguish it. It bites at the feet of the acolytes trying to put it out and burns them with all the strength of Luvarin's rage.

What happens next is a blur. 

Qhetohr's told them about this before. When your body becomes nothing more than an extension of your weapon and it's like you're not in control of it. 

Everything you do in this state is controlled by instinct alone. 

When they wake up, one of Luvarin's hands is caked in blood and bits of flesh are stuck beneath the nails. They are standing over that woman's corpse and her neck has been punctured with holes that could have only been made by their hand.

Her body is floating, half submerged, and they are knee deep in water. The rain has stopped, and they're no longer wearing their robes. They see that it's wrapped around the village chief's neck like a noose. The village in the distance has been ruined by the flood, and there are more bodies floating around them. 

The only thing unaffected? Your body. The grey clouds have parted and there's a beam of sunlight shining down on you. Your eyes are closed, your head is slumped, and your wet hair sticks to your face. 

You're still beautiful, even as your skin begins to grow pale with death. 

Luvarin sees the Ofriedian knife, they pick it up and sever the ropes. They catch your body when it falls, they drop the blade, and they wrap both arms around you. 

They inhale whatever remains of your scent that hasn't been washed away by the rain and the ointments. 

Luvarin frowns when they feel the unfamiliar sensation of tears stinging the corners of their eyes. They burrow their nose in the crook of your neck and mumble into your skin, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen.” Their voice is like a sputtering torch about to succumb to the harsh rain. 

If they strain their ears and focus on the wind, they swear they can hear you. 

They can hear your voice, but they don't know what you're saying. 

“I'm sorry,” Luvarin croaks once more, “I didn't want to hurt you. I never did. I just wanted you to notice me. Not Erasmus. Not Luvarin the Deity of Love. Just me.” 

“A- And I couldn't take it when you said no. I need you in my life [Name], and I still do. But I'm not so selfish tha- that I'd do something stupid. It was Qhetohr,” They can't stop their voice from quavering, “Qhetohr made me do this, s- so if you're gonna be mad at anybody just be mad at them okay?” 

Your silence is deafening but they press on, “I'll do anything,” They look up to the sky, as if begging for any of their siblings to help them. Dignity be damned, “I'll do anything.” 

But nobody answers. Not Qhetohr. Not their merciful brother. Not Uren. The only response is the quiet, occasionally interrupted by the sound of rain dripping from nearby leaves. 

Yandere Love Deity who fixes your body. They place back your organs, mend your skin, and make everything normal again. Or as normal as it can be now that there's a gaping hole left in their existence.

Yandere Love Deity who keeps your body in a coffin they make from their own hands. You have made them countless gifts, but their favourites were always the adorable wood carvings that they can tell you poured more time and effort into than they would ever deserve. 

It is imperfect and made of mistakes, but it is sturdy, and it is genuine. Ularus volunteers to help, he insisted, but a flinty glance is enough to discourage him from continuing further. They need to do this. This is the least they can do for you after all you've done for them. 

Yandere Love Deity who is visited by their merciful brother the day that they lay your body to rest in the coffin. 

“He was always such a bold child.” 

“[Name]?”

“Oh, of course! He may not seem like it now, but well, you remember what I told you.”

“Who else would, if not us? We're the only ones who know now. We're the only ones who will ever remember him.”

“He loved you.” 

“He loved Erasmus.”

“Are you not also Erasmus?” 

“Dear brother, no. Erasmus is the mysterious charming mortal. I am Luvarin, to him I am nothing more than the master he hates– hated and would have never had to serve if he had the choice.” 

“He loved you Luvarin. He was simply confused. He can respect the gods but that does not mean he likes them, and well– to love the god he detests the most is not the easiest thing to come to terms with.” 

“What are you trying to say here?” 

“I'm saying that the two of you could have worked if there was simply time, time that you no longer have.”

“...” “My condolences to you, Luvarin. He was a good man.”

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ok So who is down for a bit of a wild Eddie Diaz is Freddie Mercury theory that is actually based in colour theory?!!

Yeah, yeah, I know that sounds insane but hear me out!

So Freddie superstar queer man of moustache wearing fame who also happened to sport a swept back floppy haired look in the 1980’s

Remind you of anyone??

Yeah - similar hairstyle and moustache! Keep that in mind as we continue!

Did you know that he never actually confirmed his sexuality publicly?

He hinted at it in the lyrics of Bo Rhap - which he wrote (and released with Queen) in 1975 when he was figuring things out. At that time he was in a relationship with a woman (Mary Austin - who he called his wife even though they never married. They remained best of friends and she was at his side when he died - he left her most of his estate) but had an affair with a man - and was also dealing with religious and childhood trauma (he was sent to catholic school and had a difficult upbringing at the hands of his mother). Bo Rhap was Freddie sorting through all of his feelings around his sexuality - the lyrics can be interpreted in many ways but the other members of Queen have spoken about its meaning being clear and personal to Freddie at the time. So ‘mama’ is a reference to the Virgin Mary and also to his mother - playing on both his childhood and religious traumas, saying he didn’t mean to make them cry is about not wanting to disappoint them but also about needing to be true to himself. ‘Just killed a man’ is about the death of his heterosexuality. I could go on (I can always write a post explaining the lyrics more fully if that is something that would interest anyone - Queen and Freddie were a hyperfixation of mine as a teenager!!) but I won’t in order to keep to my actual wild theory!

Now I wonder who that sounds like?? Childhoood trauma at the hands of his mother, catholic upbringing that didn’t fit with who he is, relationship with a woman who he loved but didn’t love the right way?? Yeah that sounds remarkably like a certain Edmundo Diaz if you ask me.

Now the moment Freddie actually ‘came out’ without actually coming out and essentially confirming he was not straight (there is debate about if he was gay or bi because he referred to himself as bi) was when he released ‘The Great Pretender’ in 1987 - when he was diagnosed with HIV/AIDS (he had been showing symptoms since 1982 but he also never actually confirmed his diagnosis until the day before his death in 1991) The reason this is significant in relation to Eddie DIaz is multi fold!

Firstly this was the moment Freddie chose to shave off his moustache as a symbol of not hiding who he was anymore and he never grew it back. So for Freddie Mercury his moustache was a literal mask and not a symbol of his queerness. The song is literally about coming out to the world and confessing and not hiding who you are and about wanting to fit in even though you are different. When we have had Episodes titled Masks, confessions, and have wannabes coming up - and we have Eddie Diaz shaving off his moustache as a symbol of not hiding any longer - choosing to embrace his true self - that’s a pretty loud parallel if you ask me.

Now to the colour theory of it all - because you see we have pink coming to the party for both Eddie and Freddie!

Freddie wore this wonderful double breasted pale pink satin suit for the promotional photographs and for the music video of ‘The Great Pretender’ and the scenes he wore it for in the music video were the ones that symbolised him being his true self as he reflected back on his life and all the various costumes and ‘disguises’ he wore throughout his life and career.

And now we’ve had Eddie in Pink for two very key scenes - the only time he has worn pink in the entire show.

Firstly we have the karaoke scene with Eddie in his Crockett and Tubbs pale pink suit and dark pink shirt.

And then we have Risky business Eddie in a pale pink shirt

Both times Eddie has worn pink pale pink have been in connection with being shown his true unmasked and unfiltered self - at the karaoke we see him letting loose and just enjoying himself, and then we have the newly shaven Eddie dancing the Risky business dance finding joy in something. They’re both scenes about Eddies joy, his freedom and him expressing himself. They’re about showing the audience who the real Eddie is - when he isn’t weighed down by all the other things in his life.

Oh hey look, its not even just the pink parallels of it all because we also had drag queens in the great pretender music video (L-R Roger Taylor, Peter Straker and Freddie Mercury) just like we did in the Karaoke scene.

And then we have the green and pink parallel!

Because something I have been side eyeing hard since we first got the stills for the karaoke scene is the colour swap for Buck and Eddie. This was the first time we saw Eddie in pink - in any real colour colour to be honest - Eddie has stuck to a pretty rigid colour palette since he first appeared in Under pressure (oh look yet another Queen reference!) always in muted shades rarely wearing anything bright and generally in a green, grey, blue, black and white colour palette with a little bit of burgundy/maroon thrown in. The only time we’ve really seen him in anything close to a bright colour is the yellow shirt from 601 which we have just seen again in 806. Buck however has worn pink on numerous occasions (Mays graduation party, the tsunami, the hilly coffee maker scene, when Chim figures out Buck knew where Maddie was scene etc etc) and so it is a staple colour for him. Mint green however is not a colour he wears - in fact Buck wearing green more generally is not common at all (especially outside of break up scenes!). So I was already looking for significance in the colour choices that had been made - but didn’t have all the pieces (and not just because the actual karaoke element of the scene had been cut) - until now! Now it is very clear that wardrobe and ABP have to have been given specific colour instructions about Eddies costume colour - because they needed it to play into the Freddie Mercury concept - the pink suit and the swept back hair, the drag queens - the entire thing was a nod to the great pretender and basically the kicking off of a queer arc for Eddie - now backed up by the 806 scene.

I wrote at the time in my meta about pink being the colour for the season and being a play on innocence and naïveté - which did fit with this scene and Eddie in this scene, but it also felt like it wasn’t the entire answer - with the context of the risky business Eddie scene though - now it is making sense - it is about showing Eddie letting go and being free, but it is also symbolic of Eddie becoming lighter (and no I don’t mean in terms of the fact he seems to only wear half his clothes when he’s in pink!) as he allows his true self to see the sunlight.

It also gives us this very interesting parallel/mirroring - Eddie in Pink - Buck in green - in both scenes - the framing is the same - right down to Eddie drinking his beer!

Notice how the tone has swapped though - Eddie darker toned in his darker pink shirt while Buck is super pale in the mint green - switched to Eddie in the super pale pink while Buck is in the very dark green. In S7 both are in relationships and they’re all over each other - because it is ‘safe’ to do so - its the most intimate we’ve ever actually scene them (physically I know they’ve metaphorically been closer) Then when they’re both single they’re keeping a foot apart!

The parallel is a really interesting one - this idea that the episode before - in 705 both Buck and Eddie nearly end up single but choose to stay/ pursue relationships that are not the right fit for them - highlighted by this karaoke scene showing who there person actually is - now backed up by the final scene of 806 - reversed colours and all - showing who their person is after both relationships have ended. The light and dark of both scenes plays into who is in the better place in that moment - So Buck was in the best place in 706 while Eddie is in 806. The other aspect of the two scenes is the loud v quiet. Bucks bi arc being a loud and bright colourful affair full of drama etc, while Eddies is taking a more sedate and quiet route - much like the quiet of a scene where they just sit together in silence. This is a reflection of what each needs in those moments - Buck needed the world to accept him and his bisexuality in 706 and in 806 its about Eddie accepting himself. Their journey’s from here on out are the opposite - Buck now needs to sit in the silence and accept himself while Eddie needs the acceptance of the outside world (namely his parents and Chris) they are holding mirrors up to each other and it perfectly highlights their respective personalities and wider journeys. It also reflects the duality of Freddie Mercury himself - a complete showman - confident and full of charisma on stage - off stage however he was, by all accounts a quiet and unassuming but complex man who accepted himself privately but wasn’t able or wiling to share all of himself with the world (as was and is his right).

So the Freddie Mercury parallel that it seems Tim is playing into is very loud and telling and the colour theory is backing it up perfectly so far.

This is a rambling mess - it’s 2:30am and I should be asleep so apologies if it makes zero sense, but I hope it does!

[thatwildwolfwrites]

—in which turians gossip.

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's youngest?

His son? Yeah. Apparently he got detention again. It's the fifth time this week. I don't know why that child keeps talking back. It's like he has no respect for authority.

Well, they'll beat that out of him at bootcamp. He'll fall in line eventually.

Why can't he just be normal? All the other kids his age understand this already. Maybe something's wrong with him...

I wonder. He's not growing up into a good turian... Poor Castis.

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son?

--

Yes. What a waste. I heard he ranked at the very top in all sharpshooting and hand to hand combat tests... and all of that for nothing.

What's wrong with him? 

He will never make a good turian.

Spirits, poor Castis. First the accident, and now that son of his...

--

What about his son? I thought he was normal now. Didn't he find a job, outside the military?

He did. Citadel Security, like his father. Easier outlet for that... passion of his. You know. All that talk of justice and right and wrong... Castis hoped working at C-Sec would help him get it out of his system. Start being normal. Maybe he would finally burn through that... energy.

Did it work?

He's constantly fighting with his superiors. Disobeying orders. Questioning their judgement. I hear he's just as much trouble out there as he ever was down here.

I don't envy Castis right now. Hearing about your son constantly failing at the job you excelled at... It's got to do something to you.

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son? I heard he actually quit C-Sec now. Couldn't even conform to that. Now he's left the Citadel on a whim, with some human, on an impulse...

--

Poor Castis.

Poor Castis.

I heard Castis Vakarian's son was part of that mess at the Citadel, with the geth.

--

Apparently he's aiming to be a Spectre now. I don't know how his father is going to take that.

I wouldn't want to be in his plates right now.

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son? He dropped out of the Spectre training program.

--

Have you heard? He's gone mad.

I heard he finally snapped. Had some sort of identity crisis, left spirits know where without saying anything.

I suppose it was always a matter of time. There's always been something wrong with that boy. Still, his poor family...

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son? 

--

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian? Yeah, he has kis kids staying over.

I heard. Just when you think it couldn't get any worse. Working with a terrorist organisation. Human supremacists, too... I can't imagine what his father's going through right now.

--

I heard it's a difficult family situation, yes. The mother's dying, and he... At least he still has his daughter, not like that good for nothing son of his.

Have you seen him? What a disgrace. Half his body covered in scars like that. Wearing his failures right on his face... His family must be so ashamed.

Heard he's saying he's fallen in love with an alien. A human of all species. 

Disgusting.

That's just adding insult to injury. His poor family.

Poor Castis.

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son?

--

Isn't he the one in charge of that refugee camp on the Citadel? Who even decided to put him in a leadership role?

I don't know. I heard he's friends with the new Primarch. I heard he failed upwards. I heard he's in an important position now, in charge of helping with that war summit.

This damn war. They'll promote anyone as long as they're still alive.

--

--

--

Have you seen? Commander Shepard's written a private account about the Reaper War. Have you read this? 

--

Incredible.

Heartwarming.

Inspiring.

Unbelievable.

Beautiful.

She wrote about Garrus Vakarian.

They were close. He was her lieutenant. Her closest aide. Her best friend.

He held her up when she stumbled. He asked her to take care of herself. He checked in with her. He cared. When everyone else saw the Commander, he was the only one who saw a person. He was the only one who asked how she was doing. He was the only one who supported her.

She wrote about everything he did for her.

He's the only reason she had the strength to win that war.

He saved the world.

--

--

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian?

--

You mean Garrus Vakarian's father? Yeah. I heard. He must be so proud.

[dipplinduo]

Hey!

So here's the thing: I love and am so grateful for this platform - for all of you who follow me, read my stories, and share a collective love for all things dipplinshipping, mintteashipping, and pokemon fandom alike. A primary focus of my account, in fact, is alllllll about fortifying a happy little escape zone where we can all be happy and have fun together.

This post is a rare "not about that" post. I'm gonna keep my personal feelings on this pretty brief, but here's the thing: I've been fucking livid. For awhile. I'm angry and disappointed with world leaders and people in power. And as an American, I'm feeling a lot around our government: its egregiously wealthy stakeholders - who wildly abuse their influence for self-gain - and the corruption that is a hate-motivated, white supremacist, capitalistic agenda. If you live in the US, or even anywhere else, I can promise you this: Your existence and presence is always valid, and is not defined by an executive order. If you follow me or watch my posts from time-to-time, I hope that you can continue to find a positive escape with what I promote here. And I hope you know how much you are loved and valued. Genuinely. Please know these are some free, 24/7 resources avaliable, too: General: National Crisis Line - Call 988 OR: chat at 988lifeline.org* - *Inclusive services for individuals who are deaf/hard of hearing Crisis Text Line - Text "HELLO" to 741741 Free 24/7 crisis support via text for anyone in need. Resources For The LGBTQIA+ Community: Trans Lifeline - translifeline.org Hotline: 877-565-8860 (run by trans people for trans people)

National Center for Transgender Equality - transequality.org Resources on legal rights, ID document changes, and advocacy for transgender individuals.

PFLAG - pflag.org Support groups, crisis intervention, advocacy, and educational resources for LGBTQIA+ individuals and allies.

Sylvia Rivera Law Project - srlp.org Legal aid and advocacy for low-income trans, intersex, and gender non-conforming individuals.

The Trevor Project - thetrevorproject.org

24/7 crisis counselling for LGBTQIA+ Youth (ages 13-24)

Resources For People of Color:

EmbraceRace - embracerace.org Provides resources for people of color, particularly families, to cope with racial trauma and political stress in culturally affirming ways. The Steve Fund - stevefund.org Mental health resources for young people of color LatinoJustice PRLDEF - latinojustice.org Provides legal advocacy and community education for Latinx individuals on voting rights, immigration, and civil rights. Native American Financial Services Association (NAFSA) - nativefinance.org Financial services, resources, and advocacy for Indigenous communities. The Loveland Foundation - thelovelandfoundation.org Offers free or discounted therapy for Black women and girls. Asian Mental Health Collective - asianmhc.org Mental health resources for Asian and Pacific Islander communities Inclusive Therapists - inclusivetherapists.com A therapist directory that centers the needs of marginalized populations

Resources For Immigrants and Undocumented Individuals: Immigrant Legal Resource Center (ILRC) - ilrc.org Provides legal resources and training for immigrants and their advocates.

National Immigration Law Center (NILC) - nilc.org Advocacy for the rights of low-income immigrants.

RAICES (Refugee and Immigrant Center for Education and Legal Services) - raicestexas.org Offers free or low-cost legal services for immigrants and refugees.

Border Angels - borderangels.org Supports undocumented individuals with immigration services and humanitarian aid. Resources Around Abortion: ReproCare Healthline - reprocare.com Hotline: Text "CARE" to 707-827-2273 Emotional support, information, and logistical assistance for people managing abortion care. Access Reproductive Care (ARC) Southeast - arc-southeast.org Provides funding and support for abortion access in the Southeastern U.S., including transportation and lodging assistance. Aid Access - aidaccess.org Telemedicine consultations and abortion pills access by mail for people who face barriers to in-person care. Center for Reproductive Rights - reproductiverights.org Litigates cases to protect and expand access to reproductive health care and abortion rights worldwide. Advocacy and Involvement Resources: Alliance for Justice - afj.org Join campaigns focused on protecting civil rights, access to justice, and equity for marginalized communities. Center for Popular Democracy - populardemocracy.org Supports marginalized communities through campaigns on racial and economic justice, immigration reform, and healthcare. Human Rights Campaign (HRC) - hrc.org Opportunities to volunteer, participate in advocacy campaigns, and fight for LGBTQIA+ rights through events and local organizing. National Immigration Law Center (NILC) - nilc.org Advocate for policies supporting immigrants, including DACA, workplace protections, and healthcare access. Environmental Defense Fund (EDF) - edf.org

Advocate for climate change response initiatives via donations and campaign support

Please feel free to reblog/comment and add to this list.

with love,

dipplinduo

[veltana]

Groupie - Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fan!Reader

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader ✦ Word count: ~3,6k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Avenger!Bucky, Avenger!Fan!Reader, secret crush, secret hero, fluff, smut, the tiniest bit of angst, misunderstandings, piv sex, breeding kink (I'm not messing around with this one), talk of getting reader pregnant, pet name (Bunny), dirty talk, sex with feelings, multiple orgasms (for both), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: Since joining the Avengers you've been avoiding Bucky Barnes, afraid of what would happen if he ever learned the truth. ✦ Note: I have no idea how to tag this, so if I missed something please let me know. I don't know where this came from so just... it is what it is! This is also posted on AO3.

Masterlist | AO3

Stark called a meeting at the workshop in the evening to show off one of his new inventions that could aid them in the field. As you stand in the back and watch, Bucky comes up beside you, and just as always you discreetly take a small step to the side. Everyone, including Bucky, assumes you dislike him, and you are happy to keep up that front since admitting to the truth would be unprofessional and cause a lot more trouble than avoiding him.

He gives you a sideways glance but doesn’t mention it, he’s used to it by now. Unfortunately, you are still close enough to smell his cologne and it makes your pulse pick up. Unbidden images of being under him, smelling his sweat mixed with the perfume while he takes you apart appear inside your mind. Stark says something but you can’t concentrate with Bucky so close. Shifting even further to the side, he glances at you again and his brows draw together.

"I can go stand somewhere else if it bothers you so much," his tone is annoyed but low, to not disturb the demonstration. "No, it's fine," you mumble. "You forget I can hear your heart beating,” he points out. “And it sounds like a bunny rabbit backed into a corner by a wolf." That doesn't make you any calmer. If he can hear that, can he smell how aroused he makes you every time he gets close? "Sorry, I-" but your mouth has turned dry as a desert. You avoid speaking to Bucky as much as possible because you fear you will just make a fool out of yourself. As you’re doing right now.

"I never understood what you have against me," he crosses his arms, eyes on Stark's display. "Did I hurt someone close to you back in the day or are you afraid I'll revert and start killing again?" Shame fills your chest. You want to turn to him and hug him, explain that it’s not in any way like that. For years you have admired Bucky and when you had gotten the promotion to work with the Avengers your friends had teased you mercilessly about finally meeting your idol, but when you did and you realized that he was everything you had ever dreamed of you got scared. If he knew your secret he would most likely never speak to you again.

"It's not like that," you whisper, finally daring a look at him, but regretting it right away. His beautiful blue eyes are watching you. Quickly you avert your gaze. "You can't even look at me." And that is true. You always look at something else when Bucky is in the same room as you. The only time you allow yourself to admire him is when he's caught up in something else when there is no chance his attention will shift to you.

Just the small amount of it he is giving you right now is almost unbearable. You want to climb him, wrap your legs around his waist, grab his hair, and crush your lips to his. It's dangerous to be so close to him so you do the only thing you can. "I should go, I'm sorry," you mumble and turn on your heel, quickly exiting the workshop and heading for the elevators.

When you're inside your room you breathe a sigh of relief. That had been a close call. Your insides feel like melted ice cream and your knees get weak at remembering how he watched you. The only problem is that maybe you aren’t as smooth at avoiding him as you think, since he had noticed. You'd have to fix that somehow.

Kneeling at the side of your bed you reach in under it to pull out the box. It's discreet and if someone else found it they would probably assume it would be full of sex toys and the like. But a box full of toys would be mildly embarrassing compared to the actual content of the box.

Inside is a big photo book. Leaning against the bed frame you place it on your lap, opening it to the first page. You've tried to keep it in chronological order over the years and the first page contains a few news articles from the war where either the Howling Commandos or Bucky himself appear. You love to see how it starts with small mentions but then the articles grow bigger and bigger. It had been hard to track down some full spreads, not to mention expensive as fuck, and some things you were still saving up for.

Then there are the articles about the Winter Soldier. They needed to be in there, but you never read them. It was before anyone knew the truth about the mind control and the years of torture. The text described him as a killing machine with no morals, not caring who he hurt to get to his price. You quickly skip past those pages.

Your favorite part is the last bit of the album. Recent interviews and photoshoots with the super soldier, talking about his life and his struggles. Not to mention the stylists always made sure to show off his physic, be it suits or sportswear.

Inside the box are also a replica of his dog tags and the hat he'd worn with his uniform. Putting the tags over your head you play with them between your fingers, remembering how they look around his neck. In your previous apartment, they'd been hanging on the wall and your friends had joked about it being a shrine. Now you are too scared to have it on display. If someone sees it they will think you are insane.

You're startled from your musings by a knock on the door and without much thinking you put the book on the bed before opening it.

Bucky is standing on the other side. The demonstration must have ended. "What is your problem with me?" The words fail you as your heart starts hammering. He is too close, but if you back away he will probably take it as an invitation to come in and that would be disastrous. "I have barely spoken to you since you got here but you've managed to make it very clear how much you detest me. I just want to know why." He's annoyed and desperate at the same time. "Can I do something to fix it? I can't have a team member be afraid of me when we go out into the field and I… are those my dog tags?"

Ice rushes into your veins as you realize you forgot to take them off and you quickly cover them with your hand. "No," you lie. "They have my name on them." "No, they don't." "Are you serious?” Now he’s looking more mad. “Tell me what the fuck is going on right now."

You fucked up. You could keep on lying, close the door in his face, and never speak to him again. Ask for a transfer. Or you could show him. And then ask for a transfer. Because whatever you did you would not keep your job after this.

With trembling hands you open the door, releasing your hold on the dog tags and gesturing for him to come inside. "Sit," you murmur and when he does you place the book in his lap. He glances at you and for the first time you hold his gaze. This might be the last time you see him so you might as well take advantage of the moment. It will never happen again. "Open it."

As he hesitantly opens the first page you slip off the dog tags and place them into the box before sitting down too, with a decent amount of space between the two of you.

While he's occupied you study his face and try to commit it to memory. Bucky Barnes, in your room, on your bed, reading your album. It's a dream come true. Though you had hoped it would be after sex while you were still naked in bed, and you could take it out and show him. But this works too.

"This is extensive,” he sounds impressed and you hope he is. You wouldn’t say it’s your life's work but it’s something you worked hard on and is proud of. "I know." "When did you do this?" He looks at you. You shrug in response, "Over the years." "Years?" "I started it when I was in my early twenties.” "How did you find everything?" "The internet can be a wonderful place with like-minded people." "I can't imagine what it could have cost you." "I prefer not to think about it," you laugh.

He glances down into the box and then bends down to pick up the hat. "Please tell me this isn't the original one." "Oh god no, it's a replica!" "Can I try it?" "Please do!" Bucky puts the hat on, tips it to the side, and turns to you with a smile. It's impossible to not smile back when he looks so handsome. "Still fits you." "Feels odd. We used to wear them all the time, but I guess I've gotten used to a life without hats." He removes it and puts it back into the box before picking up the dog tags.

"I have a feeling you don't have these things because you hate me." "I don't hate you, it's quite the opposite." "Then why keep avoiding me?" You twist in your spot uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. "It's embarrassing. I never thought I would actually get to meet you when I started this collection." "I honestly feel honored. I'm not usually the person people think it's worth remembering." You tilt your head, "I do." "I can see that."

For a moment you look at each other and you get to experience what it feels like to drown in his eyes. Those blue magical pools that you've only ever studied on printed paper or through a screen. It could never compare to the real thing. Fearing you're going to say something more stupid you take the book from him. "So now you know," you say. "If you want me to transfer I'll happily put in a request. You were never meant to see it and I understand if it makes you uncomfortable around me." "No, that won't be necessary," he assures you. "But there is one thing I still don't get."

When you look up from your lap he's moved much closer. Too close again. His presence fills your senses in a way no one else has ever done. "What?" your voice almost cracks. "Why do you move away as soon as I get close?" His voice is low, as if not to scare you. With a wobbly laugh, you put the book down in between you and Bucky, scooting a bit away, studying the bedsheets.

"As you're doing now." "It's just, I like my personal space," you explain. "And you won't look at me." A single finger lands under your chin and tilt your head towards him. He's touching you. Bucky Barnes is touching you.

"Are you sure you aren't scared, Bunny?" "Ye-yeah," you swallow. "Because I think your heart is about to burst out of your chest." He moves the book out of the way and slides right up to you, until his leg is pressed against yours. The finger is still holding you in place, craning your neck to look at him. Your body flushes with heat. Now he's really touching you. "So what is it then?" There is a teasing in his voice, as if he knows but he wants to hear you say it.

Your tongue wet your dry lips and his focus shifts to that for a second. Opening your mouth to give him an answer, nothing comes out, not even the truth. "Bunny, you better answer me."

Finally, you find your voice. "I'm scared I won't be able to control myself," you confess. "And what would happen if you lost control?"

You close your eyes. You can't look at him when you speak. "I'll drop to my knees and beg to suck your cock." Bucky inhales sharply. "Or climb into your lap and beg you to fuck me. I'd let you do anything to me just to get a small taste. I'd ask you to use my body as you wanted and I won't need anything in return." "Fuck, Bunny. You have a dirty mind." "Sorry, I can't help that you smell so good and look so hot, it's too much."

His finger on your chin changes to a grip and you open your eyes, meeting his. They're filled with greed for something you don't understand. "You'd let me fuck you?" "Yes" "How about coming inside you?" "God yes!" "When was the last time you had tests done?" "Maybe a month ago? They were clean." "Any partner since then? Are you on birth control?" You hesitate for a moment. "Bunny?" "No… to both" Bucky laughs. "You would let me breed you, Bunny? Fuck you raw until you're bursting with my cum?"

The moan slips out unbidden. Just the thought of his raw dick inside you. Playing pregnancy roulette. It makes you so hot. "Yes, I would Bucky."

"Take off your clothes, lay on your back." You stare at him. "Is something unclear?" "You? And me? You want to have sex with me?" Something crosses over Bucky's face. "You don't have to." He reassures you. "No! I want to! I just… I never thought you'd want to. With me." "Well, you're wrong. And if you want to with me you better do as you're told."

Scrambling to take off your clothes you watch Bucky as he stands up and slowly starts doing the same. He's only gotten his shirt off by the time you're naked. "Spread your legs, let me see."

You pull your knees up and let them fall to the side. The stickiness from your arousal has already coated the inside of your thighs. You're sure you've never been this wet before in your life.

"Bunny's got a cute little pussy on her." Bucky's smile is predatory like he is an actual white wolf stalking its prey. He's down to his boxers now, his erection outlined through the cotton. It's big. "Don't look scared, we'll make it fit, I promise."

When his boxers are off too you can't help but stare but you’re more excited than anything else. The pulse in your cunt doesn't care if it’s going to hurt, there is only one thing on your mind. "I want your cock Bucky," you tell him. "Don't worry, you'll get it." He crawls on top of you, keeping his weight on his forearms and his body off of yours. "But I'm going to kiss you first."

His lips are soft but his kiss is demanding. It leaves no room for hesitation that he doesn't want you. Quickly he works your mouth open and moans when his tongue finds yours. You put your hands in his hair, guiding him to where you want his mouth. Then he descends your body, nipping at your jaw, sucking on your neck before finding your breasts. One hand is warm and the other is cold as he presses them together, caressing the nipples with his thumbs, making you keen and shudder. He uses his mouth to pull more sounds from you, licking, sucking, and dragging his teeth lightly against the stiff peaks, until your naked pelvis bucks up against his upper body, trying to find friction for the need he causes in you.

"You need something, Bunny?" "I need you to fuck me!" "It would be better for you if you come first." "No, I need it now! Stretch me with your cock Bucky, please I need it so bad!"

In a second he's kissing you again, feverishly, and this time he lets his body sink down on yours, his thick shaft brushing your wet center, making both of you shudder. Bucky reaches down and uses his hand to guide the tip to your opening. "Tell me if it hurts and we'll stop." "Promise." You relax into the bed, spreading your legs, and watch Bucky's face as he pushes into you.

He's big, but you're also incredibly wet. Your body slowly gives for his intrusion. There is a slight sting but it quickly turns into pleasure as he fills you. "So big!" you moan and experimentally move against him. "Fuck, Bunny, this is the tightest pussy I fucking ever felt. You're going to be the death of me." "Make me come first, then you can die." With a grunt, he pulls back and pushes in, carefully to get you used to him, but it’s not what you want or need.

"Move, please move. Fuck me Bucky!" you beg and he does. Not in your wildest fantasies could you predict this sensation. So full. So good. Bucky groaning above you. His warm skin under the palms of your hands. The sound of your arousal mixing with the sound of skin meeting skin.

"I'm already leaking into your cunt Bunny. It feels so good." "Yes, Bucky!" "Did you know I have almost zero recovery time? I just need a quick breather after coming before I can go again." With a moan, you wrap your legs around him. "I'm going to fill you with so much cum you'll be drunk on it." He leans down until he's right by your ear.

"I'll breed you all night long. And I'll continue to do it every night until you're pregnant." "Bucky!" "You fucking like that, I can feel how tight you get!"

Shaking your head you try to deny it, but carrying his baby would be the ultimate fantasy. "Please make me full of you! I want a baby Bucky. Make me fucking pregnant with our child!"

"Dirty! Fucking! Mind!" He says through gritted teeth, punctuating every word with a particularly hard thrust. "More!" You cry as the pressure inside you builds. Bucky quickly sits up on his knees, grabbing your hips, pulling you onto his dick as he thrusts inside you. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" you chant. "Make me come, Bucky! Please! More!"

"Bunny!" he warns. "You better fucking come before me, I can't hold it with your tight cunt squeezing me like that!" Desperately you start rubbing your clit and a moment later everything explodes through your body. With an unearthly wail, you find your release and Bucky quickly follows, cursing and roaring while he pumps you full.

The world is unsteady for a moment but then it rights itself. Bucky's head is thrown back as he heaves in lungfuls of air and you're no better where you're lying. He's not soft inside you yet and maybe he won't even go down.

"That was…" you begin but then shake your head with a stupid smile on your lips. "Better than you thought it would be?" He asks. "A million times better." "Good because we're not done." He releases your hips to once again lean down over you, kissing you much softer this time, moving his hips slower. It makes you keen into his mouth with the delicious stretch and the wetness of his release adding to the feeling. It leaks onto the sheets as he fucks you but you don't mind. At the end of all this, your sheets will probably need to be burned.

"Bunny, fuck, Bunny, look at me," Bucky demands and you do. He's close enough that you share a breath. "So fucking pretty. My little groupie." Despite the situation you laugh. "Aren't you?" "Absolutely Bucky, I'm your groupie." "Only mine?" "Of course! I don't have any more boxes under the bed." "Good." He rests his head at the crook of your neck, his hot breath ticking your skin and you close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of him surrounding you. Soon another orgasm works its way through your body. You don't scream this time, instead, you whisper in his ear how fucking good it feels, how he's filling you so well, and how you want him to breed you.

Moments later Bucky bursts inside you for the second time. He takes a minute before he rolls the two of you over so you're on top. The strength in your body is nearly gone but Bucky's serum keeps him going. And he keeps his promise. All through the night, he fills you and by the time the sun starts rising, he pulls one last weak orgasm from you before stopping.

"So fucking pretty," he muses as he spreads you open to watch the cum run out of you, before pushing some of it back in with his fingers, making you whine. With a chuckle, he wipes it off on the sheets, and then looks around. "I don't think we can sleep in this bed, Bunny. Where's your pajamas?" It's a miracle you're still awake but you point to the clothes on the chair. Bucky finds you some underwear and dresses you, before carrying you to his room. There he makes you take a shower but afterward, he doesn't let you get dressed again. "I need your skin against mine," he says as he spoons you.

Several hours later you wake up, sore but in the best way. The bed is empty and you must have slept through Bucky waking up. With a giggle, you roll onto your back and that's when you feel something around your neck. Confused, you look down and find his dog tags against your bare skin. The smile on your face must be really stupid as you fiddle with them between your fingers. Who could have known meeting your hero would turn out like this?