#make cheap wedding tips

[yanderestarangel]

☆ 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ☆

TW: Pure smut, NSFW, unprotected sex, rough sex, Daddykink, AFAB anatomy, vaginal sex, creampie, overstimulation, established relationship, a little fluff, Husband! Miguel O'Hara, description of Miguel's dick.

This man as a husband is a complete package, he loves you, is extremely faithful and does everything to see you happy. Miguel is the kind of husband who shows you for the whole world to see, how beautiful you are, how perfect your body is in the clothes he buys you (and there are many, believe me).

Miguel is the type of husband that if someone flirts with him, he will smile and try to be polite, he only has eyes for you and will never exchange a lifetime of pleasure, happiness and love for a passing adventure in bed, he is yes a sex-crazed animal but that only applies with you his libido is all for you, you turn him on but if it's someone else he'll refuse and come back into your arms.

"-Sorry Honey, I have a husband/wife, I'm a married man" -Miguel would say proudly while showing the thin wedding ring made of expensive material to the woman who flirted with him in the market line, while he did some shopping for you two .

Will wake you up with coffee in bed whenever he can, prepare to wake up to the sound of "Romeo Santos - Eres Mía" is Miguel's favorite song, as he sang happily and brought you your favorite food on a tray with a flower red on the side, then popping it into his mouth like a cheap heartthrob, making you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves you.

��� Miguel O'Hara is a Horny Husband!!! ♡

He will fuck you in every room in the house possible, over the kitchen counter, in the bathroom, on the living room floor, in the backyard, even on the ceiling if he can...and he can! after all this mf has super strength, prepare to get dizzy as he fucks you in angles and positions you didn't even know existed.

Miguel O'Hara is big... I mean Miguel's cock is 22 centimeters and very thick, with swollen side veins that pulsate and pump, you can see the glow coming off the darker tanned sensitive skin of his cock, with the tip of the member being a darker red matching the rest, as O'Hara's dick is darker than the rest of his body, and extremely beautiful a little crooked to the left, but little else, he uses this to give you more pleasure exploring with the hips.

He loves to see you submissive, he is the type who likes to dominate you with all the anger, passion, love and horny, every drop of his being loves to see you vulnerable and totally naked under his muscular body, he will feel a predator and you are the prey.

"-Look at you, mi amor, crying and trembling... So beautiful mi carinõ... And all mine, this pussy belongs to me..." -Miguel growled, his voice dripping desire and hunger, while looking at you from above below, with you totally sweaty and whimpering from the third denied orgasm that night, every time you came close to coming, O'Hara simply took his fingers out of your pussy and sneered, flashing your beautiful and dangerous fangs at you.

"-Do you really want to come? Beg me, beg me to fuck you, beg me to have your husband's dick inside that nice tight pussy of yours, come on (Y/N) beg, beg me like the good slut you are."

After you whimper and beg, he will finally give in, thrusting his thick, pulsing shaft into you, moving with difficulty because your cock is too thick and you are too tight.

"-Mm, that's it, baby..."- Miguel spoke hoarsely and moaning softly, biting his lip, finally inside you while waiting for your pussy to adjust and take all of his cock.

"-Take daddy's cock deeply, feel every inch of me, you're doing so well (Y/N), such a good little whore for your Husband."

"-Say my name (Y/N)" -Miguel demanded, his voice authoritative and rough, as he slammed into you hard, his hips moving back and forth into your sensitive pussy as he used two fingers to massage your clit hard, making you cry out and squirm with the pleasurable and painful union of Miguel's fingers and cock.

"-Let everyone, the whole neighborhood know who's fucking you mercilessly, Shout out to me, who do you belong to? Shout out (Y/N), shout out to me...Fuck (Y/N)..." -Miguel groaned loud and serious, while he accelerated his hips again on you, leaving a trail of fluids from both of you, in his abdomen, member and groin.

"-You're driving Papi crazy... Hearing you talk like that, feeling your tight pussy squeezing me... it's too much, I'm not going to take much mi amor, you're going to make me come inside you and I'm going to fill your uterus all... until you're totally done with me."

"-Get ready (Y/N), I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to breathe, let alone scream."

"-You're my fucking toy, mi muñeco/muñeca, I own every inch of your pussy, and I'll use it as I please."

"-You love it when I fuck you, don't you? You're a dirty slut (Y/N), Begging for more, craving my cock, You're insatiable, you like to satisfy your Husband? Hm? Tell me mi amor, me tell me you love having my thick cock jammed in your tight, needy pussy."

"-Fuck Mami/Papi... I'm close" -Miguel grumbled as he lifted one of your thighs, looking at your pussy glistening with juices, wet because of him as he thrust with all the strength he could at that moment, the rhythm increasingly erratic for the pleasure he was feeling with your vigorous grip.

"-Are you ready to take my cum (Y/N) Show me how much of a filthy little slut you really are." -Miguel speaks practically shouting, while he gives a last strong thrust, echoing the sound of his skins through the room and coming inside you with a wild and pleasurable growl.

He would fall on his side tired, but still erect and horny, Miguel's tanned body glistened with sweat while the brown hair fell on the spider man's forehead, glued to the skin by fatigue. If you ask him to ride him, he'll freak out and immediately agree, whether he's tired or not, ride this man soon, he needs another round.

"-Of course, baby... You can ride Papi's cock all you want. I want to feel your tight pussy slide down me, taking me deep inside." "-Stay on top of the thick cock daddy, let me see you get down on my cock, let me feel every inch of you."

"-Ride me, baby, yes fuck, that feels so good..." -Miguel spoke between moans, feeling your pussy on top of him, riding hard as you looked him deep in the eyes, watching your husband's face contort with pleasure As O'Hara threw your head back, squeezing your hips tightly as you moaned needfully, you could feel his cock pulsing with every squeeze of your pussy.

"-Take everything I have to give you. You feel so good on my cock, little one."

"-Fuck (Y/N), You're taking my cock so well, my obedient little slut. You're mine to use, to fuck, to pleasure, feel me dominating your tight little pussy, claiming it as mine."

[the-fiction-witch]

Breathless

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty Af

Warning: Medical emergency / Asthma Attack

I woke, as I typically did with a sharp fast gasp. immediately I heard the wheeze in my chest like a pair of old moth-eaten bellows. I sighed and turned to my bedstand opening the little rosewood box and hearing the gentle tune of the music box inside plaid as soon as I opened it I grabbed one of the prerolled cigarettes shutting the box again and saw the candle on my bedside table still burning so I set the tip in the flame until it began to smoulder so I laid down on my back slowly but surely taking a deep inhale and blowing the resulting smoke across my ceiling. It fixed it as much as it ever did so I finished up and set the end in my little metal box with many others. 

"There's my sweet girl!" My father gleamed as he entered my bedroom with a wide smile 

"Good Morning Father," I smiled sitting up in my bed 

"It is a fantastic morning, A perfect morning for our party!" He cheered going to open my curtains to let in the sunshine 

I smiled as much as I could force, I knew this was important to him and I wanted only to be supportive. 

"I have a gift for you" He smiled tapping my nose playfully He clicked his fingers towards the door and the maid scurried in with a large box in hand, he took the box from her and set it on the bed opening the box up pulling out from the tissue and ribbon a sweet expensive new dress.

It was beautiful, A long off-the-shoulder dress of a sweet fabric a light pale pink with vertical strips of purple, and white lace at its hem, neckline and lace elbow-length sleeves with a black ribbon at its waist. It was utterly beautiful and would not have been cheap for my father to buy. but I began to panic as I looked at it seeing the ribbon and how small it was.  

I knew my father, he meant well but he always did this and always it made me fearful.

But I forced a smile "Thank you Father" I said giving his cheek a kiss 

"You're welcome, Now come along guests begin to arrive soon" He said rushing off to make preparations. 

I sighed climbing from my bed, I went and had a nice hot bath laying in the warm water for longer than I should just because it seemed to soothe my chest but I soon climbed out and went to my window in my towel looking out to the gardens.

My father was a very wealthy businessman in port with a lot of dealings coming and going in shipping, of course, our house was lustrous and grand second only to the governors only a few miles up the road, but the governor could not hold a candle to my father's gardens, well known in the area and beyond for the grandiose and beauty of the many exotic flowers and plants from all over the world, He took great pride in the garden and this combined with his utter love fort entertaining. Meant we had an awful lot of garden parties. 

Today was no exception my father was hosting a garden party and had invited everyone who could be imagined. He adored parties being an utter social butterfly, I however was more of an.... antisocial bookworm not much wanting to go but knowing word would spread if I didn't attend my father's own parties. It didn't much help my looming age knowing at the back of my mind certain men had been invited not due to my father really wanting them at the party but my father realizing they could be a good match for me so invited them in the hope one would catch my interest. But I know I am a very lucky girl, Many fathers would be insisting by now or would have wedded their daughter off for a business deal. But My father was a decent man and had always promised me I could choose my husband, that I could marry for love no matter who it would be. He felt he couldn't deny me what he and my mother had. 

I went to my mirror and began to dress, I pulled my white stockings up to my thighs adjusting them so the little lilac bows would sit forward, I pulled my long cotton underdress over my body tugging it down as far as it would go, by then my maid arrived and I gulped as she picked up my cream corset. I simply watched the mirror doing my best to not panic as she wrapped it around me and began to lace the back, I did my best to keep my breaths slow and steady but that wasn't exactly easy until finally she finished with the back, she pinned the ribbons in place and turned me to face her so she could pull the ribbons to the front to lace it again leaving me squeezed as much as possible 

"How much more?" I gasped already feeling breathless 

"Not much more Miss." she said "Pencil thin is the London style miss" She reassured

"I am not a pencil. I am a lady." I argued half of me was joking the other half was serious. 

Finally, she tied the last bow and removed the pin in the back as there was now no give in the ribbon at all, she took my crinoline the large wicker bird cage-looking thing that always made me smile a little tieing it simply around my waist and she helped me to slip on my dress, it was beautiful and I did feel very pretty even if again the lacing began as she all but sewed me into the dress ensuring it would be as close to me as possible. Not being helped by my father's purchase choices. 

"Alright miss?" she asked as she finished the last bow 

"Yes. Thank you" I lied, finally she helped me into my shoes and left to attend the party. "Women in London must have learnt not to need to breathe" I sighed I sat at my vanity and did what little make-up I bothered with before finally taking my hair from the tight braid I had done last night allowing it to now be in sweet curls. Once done I looked out to the window again seeing people had already gathered for the party so I grabbed my lace fan and my parasol and headed down to the gardens. 

"Ahhh My goodness an angel!" My father joked as he saw me "You look beautiful" He smiled 

"Thank you Father" I smiled 

"Go on then, Mingle I'll check in on you later," He told me ushering me deeper into the party, I did my rounds parasol in hand often batting my fan to try and get some air down my throat doing my best to greet and be pleasant with people. 

As I made the rounds I took note of those who were here already spotting a few men my father would have invited purely in the hopes of grabbing my attention but as I walked to a less populated area of the garden I took a seat for a moment on the stone bench I spotted a similar soul. 

He stood by one of the statues away from the main business of the party, dressed in his usual way but cleaned up a little better, he seemed awkward unsure why he was here, out of place in this bussle. I felt for him of course and for a moment even I wasn't sure why he was here. But then I recalled seeing Dr Sneed on my walk around the party and I know how my father thinks, my father would have invited Dr Sneed because he is his doctor and thus not inviting his own doctor to his party would be rude, and of course then in my fathers mind he must also invite Dr Dawkins for if he invited Sneed and Not Dawkins that too would have been rude. Honestly, I'm surprised he took up the invitation. For a moment we caught eyes and he offered me a small smile so I did my best to do so back. 

“You alright my sweet?’ my father asked as he approached sitting beside me

“Yes, just wanted a moment from all the excitement” I smiled

‘ahh well come along we are to begin the walk” he smiled to me taking my hand and soon enough the walk began, this was typical of every party my father would lead a walk around the gardens explaining almost every flower and plant giving a tour to the guests of course most ate it up but I slowly but surely slinked away until I was at the very back of the walk where I again found Dr Dawkins.

“Good day doctor”

“Good day miss y/l/n, does your father always do this?’

“Yes” I chuckled moving my parasol slightly higher as to protect him too

“AHH thank you” he smiled moving a little closer to be under the protection of the lace from the blistering sun

“Quite alright” I answered “what brings you to the party?”

“Your father invited me. Wasn't going to bother but something to do I suppose’ he chuckled

“I guess. I rather find it all tedious”

“well we agree on some things’ he chuckled “I have to admit though your dress is utterly stunning”

“Thank you doctor’ I blushed a little but had to fan myself quickly as I felt slightly breathless from the walking

“Ohh don't worry pleatenties of the party you can just call me jack” he smiled

“ohh that's very sweet, thank you jack’ I smiled “then y/n I insist”

“Why thank you, My god is he going to take us past every plant?” He whispered

“That he is” I smiled

“Any particular reason?’

‘its his pride. He adores his garden above all else?”

“Even you?’

“I don't know, I should hope not but I wouldn't be surprised’

“Why? Why would be focus so much on his garden and not his daughter?”

“He promised my other that her beloved garden would always bloom, she died only a few days later” I explained

“Ohh forgive me y/n I-”

“It's alright, he can be… overboard at times” I said doing my best to slow and catch my breath

“Are you alright?’ he asked

“Yes forgive me-”

“No no it's alright, are you sure? You seem lost for breath?’ he said carefully taking my arm

“I'm fine” I answered as I gasped trying hard not to wheeze or cry anything that might draw attention to myself he seemed panicked I tried again and gasp but it just wasn't working and I almost went over

“Whoa. I'm taking you inside’ he said quickly putting an arm around me and taking me quickly back to the house I dropped my parasol and fan as soon as I got in the door trying desperately to get my breath in “which way to your room?”

“This way” I gasped now beginning to cough and wheeze loudly taking his hand and leading him to my room as soon as I was inside I leant on my ottoman trying desperately to get some air into my lungs as he shut the door and came over

“Are you short of breath?”

“Yes” I gasped surely that was obvious

“try to breathe slow for me if you can” he asked and I did my best but that only made me wheeze louder

“Take off your dress.” He said

“I beg your pardon Dr Dawkins!’ I argued

“I need to examine you take off your dress” he said

“I cannot” I answered between gasps

“I'm a doctor I won't look y/n but I need to exmaine you” he said

“No I cannot. My maid she-”

“She's sewn you into the dress?” he asked and I nodded “alright” he said slipping off his jacket and grabbing a small knife from his pocket “I'll be as careful as I can” he said slowly using the blade to cut where my dress had been stitched by my maid until finally it released I quickly stepped away and pushed the dress off me as well as my crinoline immediately I felt a little better as I looked forward letting out slow breaths I caught sight of jack in my mirror he lied to me. He was looking. But I felt still so breathless that I tumbled onto my ottoman ‘whoa whoa! I got you. I got you.” He reassured only just catching me making me sit on the ottoman “I need to remove your corset”

“Doctor!”

“I have to remove it” he said coming to face me starting to unlace my corset ties quickly with his nimble fingers “out of curiosity. How'd your mother die?”

“Respiratory failure” I gasped and he looked up to me seeming panicked

“How old was she?”

“Twenty nine”

“Christ - for - god-” he grunted trying to deal with the knots and loops and ties in my corset until finally he unlaced the front and tried to pull it off but of course it didn't move he looked confused so I moved his hand to my back and he moved behind me seeing of course all the lacing on the back ‘oh you gotta be kidding me!’ he complained “they really didn't want you of this dress.’ he said fighting with the ties before “fuck it!’ he complained grabbing his knife again and cutting though the lacing managing to force the whole corset off me and that helped considerably “there we go.” He said a lift proud of himself “nice and slow let me listen” he said for a moment looking around the room clearly for something to use to listen but “I don't have my tools uhhh okay. Guess we have to do this the old fashioned way” he said sitting on the ottoman with me lifting my underdress up to expose my bare back I glanced in the mirror again and saw his cheeks slightly deeper with red his eyes glancing down from my neck all the way to the ottoman before he moved closer resting his head on my back to press his ear to my skin “nice and slow for me. Just breathe with me In. And out. In and back out” he said and I did my best to breath with him even if I ended up coughing and wheezing as he walked me through a few long breaths “how long have you been like this?” He asked as he pulled back moving so I could see his face letting go of my underdress

“Forever”

“I get the feeling you need to tell me something.” He said

“I'm asthmatic. Have been as long as I can remember.” I answered

“That certainly explains a lot” he said “when did a doctor tell you?”

“I was nine.”

“I take it your mother was too?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, how are you managing it? What do you have to take when you get like this?” He asked

“The box on my bedside table” I told him still struggling he got up and went to the box seeming confused

“What are these?”

“Asthma cigarettes. Prof prescribed them” I answered

“You smoke!’ he argued

“On doctors instructions yes.” I answered

“Are you mad!”

“There not tobacco there thorn apple leaves there meant to help” I said

He sighed begrudgingly bringing one over so I took it and lit it on a candle sitting for a few moments slowly inhaling it all

He brushed the smoke away from his face a moment before rather angrily speaking “he's mad.”

“It helps.”

“So would you sitting not moving for the ten minutes it took you to smoke that” he argued “but that dress wasn't helping in the slightest why on earth did they lace you in that corset so much?”

“It's the style apparently. Plus I needed to”

“Why?”

“...father buys all my dresses two sizes smaller then I am. I have to double lace the corset for a hope of even getting in them

“Why would he do that?”

“He means well. He thinks if he buys all my clothes too small it's… encouraging”

“Encouraging? I hate to ask but when did you last eat anything?”

“...four days ago.”

“Okay, that is also not going to be helping.” He said

“Yeah well you try fitting into a dress with a twenty one inch waist” I pouted

“I think he's trying to kill you.” He joked “you feel a bit better now?”

“Yes. Thank you jack”

“You're welcome. How often do you get attacks like that?”

“once a week or so.”

“Does your father know?”

“Somewhat. I don't always tell him the whole truth”

“Would you be against coming to the hospital?”

“What?”

“I am not confident about leaving you alone tonight. If you agree I'll talk to your father take you to the hospital I'll keep you under observation myself.”

“Why?”

“.... I fear this may be worse then just a simple attack y/n”

“I don't want to worry my father. he's fearful enough as it is”

“Then which would you rather? He be a little worried a stressed as you spend the night in hospital in my care or he comes in here and finds you dead in your bed tomorrow morning because I'm pretty sure which one will upset him more.”

“One night?”

“One night. Under observation.”

“Alright jack”

“Thank you y/n” he smiled giving my hand a kiss “just rest i'll go see your father” he said as he got up and headed out of my room.

Eventually he arrived with my father in tow and the two discussed as my maid packed me some items and my father called us a carriage, I changed into my loosest dress doing my best not to show my father my struggles

“Perhaps Dr sneed would be better he is my doctor he's taken such food care of me” he began

“Dr sneed is very busy he won't have time and what she needs is observations now I have the time to do so”

“Keep me posted won't you?”

“I promise.”

“You'll take care of her doctor?”

“Absolutely, I promise she'll be back right as rain”

“Alright, I'll see you soon sweetheart” he smiled kissing my head before he slowly and tenderly let my hand go giving it to jack, he smiled to me squeezing my hand and leading me slowly to the carriage luckily the party never even noticed but as i sat down my father pulled jack close to him. “Anything happens to her. It's your head.”

“Yes sir” he nodded before climbing into the carriage with me.

[6esiree]

Ulterior Motives:

Alastor x Reader x Lucifer

Notes: Even if I don’t end up going through with the story, at least y’all got this preview to read 😼 Reader is referred to as she once, and there’s a lil bit of smut in the end, but it’s not detailed.

—————

Among the stench of low-quality cigarettes and cheap booze that contributed to the sleazy environment of the casino, the heavenly scent of your Bourbon Strawberry & Vanilla perfume wafted into Lucifer’s nostrils, his chest rising and falling in silent recognition. Even after six of the twelve grueling hours of your shift and only one break in between, the supposed discounted aroma clung onto your clothes, obscuring anything unsavory wherever you traversed.

“Something the matter, sweetheart?” The sound of your voice suddenly penetrated Lucifer’s ears, much to his pleasure.

“You know, you can just call me by my name, right?” Lucifer said, immediately straightening his back.

“Is that what you want me to do?” You asked with a smile, planting your elbows on the counter in front of him, invading his personal space.

You were met with silence in lieu of a response, and while Lucifer’s mouth hung slightly open, it was as if his tongue prohibited him from formulating any words. You had no idea that he was utterly entranced by the way the dim pending light cascaded down your face, accentuating his favorite features. He would have never snapped out of it if a rather hefty patron hadn’t rattled the counter as they asked for a drink.

“What’cha want?” You slid away with a huff, unhappy over the disruption, but your smile didn’t falter once.

Lucifer’s eyes followed your receding figure, disappointment settling in the depths of his stomach, but at least you tended to work much quicker than you usually did when he asked for a drink. Cocktail, straight shot, or a beer—it didn’t matter, you somehow managed to stretch the seconds into minutes, and nobody but your employer had the right to complain when the King of Hell was requesting your services. That’s the only thing Lucifer loved about himself.

“Sometimes I hate this place, but then this happens,” You said when you reappeared in front of Lucifer, showcasing the tip in between your forefinger and middle finger, “Gotta pay the rent—the prices are unforgiving.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Lucifer chuckled, watching you stash it away under the counter. “Money, it’s important even in the afterlife.”

Tonight marked the third month that Lucifer had started showing up to the casino, but he invested all of his money into your bar, never sparing the 25¢ slot machines or the popular $5 Blackjack tables a second glance. Your knowledge about Lucifer’s personal affairs was severely limited, but the moment you caught him mindlessly twisting the golden wedding band on his ring finger, that was when you figured out what motivated him to come back.

“So, Lucifer,” You said, putting one hand on your hip, the other rubbing away at your chin in mock contemplation. “Are you sure that’s what you want me to call you?”

“Well, only if you want to,” Lucifer shrugged, the next part slipping past his lips before he could think about how strange it sounded. “I’d rather hear my name than what I assume you must call most people here.”

Your eyes flitted down to the man, the embarrassment evident in his face as you stared at him with an arched brow. It was too late to take back what he’d said, Lucifer realized; but if he added anything else, he’d risk making himself look like an even bigger fool. Oh, where had his eloquence gone to?

“Sometimes I refer to other patrons with terms of endearment, yeah,” You admitted, leaning onto the counter once more. “Okay, um, how about Luci? Does anybody else call you that?”

Unfortunately, the very woman who had driven Lucifer to seek comfort in the hands of liquor used to call him that. But as your warm breath caressed his face, your plump lips mere centimeters away from his, he couldn’t help but slowly shake his head. ‘Okay, Luci it is,’ You practically sung, the nickname rolling off of your tongue in such a beautiful way that it infiltrated his mind and replaced the memory of her dreaded voice with yours.

“Oh, and do you want another drink?” You asked. “Couldn’t help but notice how little you’ve had from yours.”

Throughout your entire conversation, Lucifer had been absentmindedly tracing the rim of his half-full glass, the grains of salt collecting underneath his claw. The last thing he wanted to do was admit that he had no desire to drink tonight, because then he’d have to explain his presence, or that you’d whipped up something shitty, because you hadn’t. So, he downed it, and all you could do was watch in awe how Lucifer swallowed the liquid without even flinching once.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have taken any offense if you’d told me you didn’t like it,” You said, taking the glass to clean. “That’s one issue down, at least.”

“Shit, yeah, the salt,” Lucifer mumbled.

“Here, lemme help you.”

You chuckled, slowly reaching towards Lucifer, granting him enough time to decline your advances. When he didn’t, you gingerly wrapped your fingers around his wrist, his stomach digging uncomfortably into the counter as you brought him towards you. The way you whispered ‘I gotcha,’ and grabbed a clean, damp rag to rid his claw from the salt compensated for the feeling, however, his heart touched by the domesticity of the act.

“I, uh—thank you,” Lucifer stammered.

And he would have gladly allowed you to hold his wrist for a moment longer if a certain someone hadn’t made himself known, the distant crackling of static making Lucifer retract his arm, earning a confused look from you. He couldn’t explain to you why he’d done such a thing, though, not when a ridiculously tall man clad in a red old-timey getup, pinstriped coat, monocle, and all sat down next to him in lieu of all the empty barstools.

“Pardon me, but is this seat taken?” He asked Lucifer, his voice reminiscent of an old radio.

“No, not at all!” Lucifer stiffly responded, a large, toothy grin taking over his face. “Go ahead, pal.”

“Excellent—oh! Where are my manners?” He said, turning to you, offering you his hand and an endearing smile. “My name is Alastor! Pleasure to meet you, quite a pleasure, darling.”

You couldn’t tell what Alastor was exactly, but he appeared to have deer-like characteristics. His antlers were substantially small, and his ears looked a lot like hair, so perhaps you were wrong. Nevertheless, your interest was piqued, the energy he radiated from his way of being rather enticing to you.

“Oh, um, likewise?” You said, trying to match his language, accepting his greeting.

A gasp escaped your throat as Alastor maneuvered your hand with a graceful precision, bringing your knuckles in for a gentleman-like kiss. Warmth spread across your features at the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin, and oh, Lucifer was silently seething at that. Even when Alastor finally parted from you, relinquishing your hand with a semblance of disappointment etched onto his brow, he made his displeasure known to him.

“My, no wonder you failed to show up to your dear daughter’s party,” Alastor said, interrupting himself with a bleat as he felt Lucifer kick into the back of his knee.

“Are you okay?” You asked, your eyes darting to Lucifer, but he simply shrugged. “Oh, a party, you say? What’cha doing here then, Luci? Your daughter invited you.”

“Just a slight cramp, don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Alastor coughed, swiftly returning the gesture, but Lucifer swallowed his pain rather well. “Anywho, good question. Lucifer here was invited, but he must have somehow forgotten about it, ha! Now that I’ve come here myself, however, I see what has him so…occupied.”

Before you could let the compliment sink in, including the fact that Alastor had made the man next to him out to be a neglectful father, Lucifer quickly added that he’d informed Charlie he’d be late to the party ahead of time, purposely withholding that you were the reason why. Still, that wouldn’t stifle Alastor’s efforts to make Lucifer look bad, irritated that he had to spend his own precious time and effort to fetch him like some wretched servant.

“Hey! I told Char I had some…things to tend to beforehand,” Lucifer said, playfully but not so playfully elbowing his side.

“Why, yes! You did tell her that, but do you realize how much time has passed since then?” Alastor practically spat, his sharp teeth glinting underneath the dim light as he smiled warningly at Lucifer. “I’m only here because I was asked to fetch you.”

“How the Hell did you find me?”

“Oh, I have my ways, dear friend.”

There was an unmistakeable tension simmering between the two of them, and you had no idea that Alastor would grant you the opportunity to find out by inviting you to Charlie’s party, his claws beckoning you. ‘Wait, my shift isn’t over and I can get fired,’ You weakly protested, but he took your hand anyway, materializing alongside you and Lucifer at the infamous Hazbin Hotel, the clanking of glasses, the flitting of cards, and the chattering of people flooding your ears.

“You guys made it, I’m so—who is this?” A tall woman gasped as she wobbly approached you, but all you could focus on was that she bore a striking resemblance to the King of Hell. “I’m Charlie, it’s so, so nice to meet you!”

“Uhh, yeah, it’s nice to meet you too,” You said, interrupting yourself with an ‘oof’ as Alastor seized your waist, swiftly bringing you into his side.

“This pretty little darling is the very reason your father was fashionably late!” Alastor unashamedly announced, his radio-like voice bouncing off the hotel’s walls.

“Ah, yes! I was just telling her about your project here, Charlie, and I guess I got carried away,” Lucifer quickly interjected with a lie, wrapping an arm around your waist from the other side, but Alastor just wouldn’t let you go.

“Wait, what?” You tried to ask, confused and overwhelmed over your current predicament, your eyes darting between the two men.

“That is so…amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. “Oh my gosh, I gotta go tell Vaggie that we have a new resident!”

That was the Princess of Hell? You wondered as she held one hand over her heart, the other occupied by a beer bottle, easily overlooking the contempt on their faces in her drunken stupor. Meanwhile, you were trapped between Alastor’s and Lucifer’s bodies, your face flushed in utter embarrassment as their claws unforgivingly dug into your hipbones, the bruises forming on there foreshadowing your future at the Hazbin Hotel:

A long whine escaped your throat at Lucifer’s slow intrusion between your legs, but Alastor quickly swallowed it. He had one hand wrapped possessively around your neck as he captured your lips, the other massaging you below to soothe the burn of being stretched. They loved you—that’s what they had confessed to you after many painful months, but neither of them could handle the idea of only one of them having you all to themselves. So what was their solution? This, and oh, were you in Heaven.

[astroismypassion]

✨PART OF FORTUNE IN SIGNS AND HOUSES SERIES: 4TH HOUSE✨

Credit goes to astrology blog @astroismypassion

ARIES PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Aries and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via starting your own small business from home or take a leadership role, especially in the kitchen, family matters, children, education, history and geography. You may be an excellent tour guide of your local town. You may also find wealth through becoming a coach, personal trainer or someone who suggest meal plan for a specific sport, for example meal plan for runners.

TAURUS PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Taurus and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via real estate, gardening, landscaping, art and craftsmanship. You can sell handmade items, such as pottery, jewelry or home decor. You may also offer gardening services, sell plants or draw plants and sell your drawings online. You could start a home-based catering service, bakery or sell homemade goods at a local market. You might be able to create financial plans for families since you have a knack for helping others to manage their finances.

GEMINI PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Gemini and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via writing articles, blogs, even e-books from home. Especially on platforms like Medium, Substack or starting your own blog from the comfort of your home. You may also offer tutoring services o reven create online courses in subjects you are passionate about (Udemy, Coursera, VIPKid).

CANCER PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via a home-based business, such as home bakery, daycare or arts and crafts. You could find abundance in life by becoming a life coach, counselor or therapist. You may earn money from a home-cooked meal delivery. You can also each yourself interior design.

LEO PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Leo and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via music, singing, performing from home, tutoring someone in music and teaching them how to play an instrument. You may also post tutorials (for example guitar tutorials) online from the comfort of your home.

VIRGO PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Virgo and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via selling your homemade jams, pies or granola mix. You may also offer healthy student snacks or offer tips on how to make those at home with cheap and easy ingredients. Again, you could feel abundant when starting a podcast or your own local book club or even themed book club.

LIBRA PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Libra and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via designing and selling your own T-shirts, designing logos for other people. You could be good at doing make up for weddings or birthday parties. You have a knack to be an excellent host at your own home. You feel the most abundant when you have balanced family relations and friendships, partnership.

SCORPIO PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Scorpio and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via teaching people how to overcome tough situations in life and helping them find their purpose, hosting a leadership course online or from home. You may also enjoy talking about mental health and psychology.

SAGITTARIUS PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Sagittarius and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via showing tourists your hometown, hosting a culinary course in a foreign language on the local cuisine. You could also find abundance by becoming a local tour guide, even offering virtual tours of your local town.

CAPRICORN PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Capricorn and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via working with your parents, helping other families finding structure and order in the home, organising someone's closet.

AQUARIUS PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Aquarius and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via video gaming from home and streaming. You could also start a home-based business. You feel the wealthiest when you are being progressive, unique and standing out from the community. You may attract wealth by starting a podcast with your close friends, building websites from home or launching your own social media channel, platform.

PISCES PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Pisces and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via taking photos of families or pregnant women. You may also do videos for someone's wedding, anniversary or birthday. You may host themed parties at home for your friends or poetry nights.

Credit goes to astrology blog @astroismypassion

[icyg4l]

PAC: May 2024 Predictions

Hello beautiful people! Later on this week, I will have a Five Dollar Friday Sale where any topic can be talked about. Please refer to my guidelines if you are interested in booking with me! Today, I will be giving you all some predictions about the upcoming month. I hope that those who resonate will continue to support me. For those of you who have been supporting me, I thank you. Without further ado, please select the quote that resonates with you.

Left-to-Right: (1-3)

Pile One: I am getting Taurus energy from this pile. I feel like you are going to be walking away from a situation that no longer serves you in May. It's going to hurt. But on the bright side, at least you are done with that chapter in your life. I feel like you are inviting new energy into your life though. It feels lively. I think that you need to be careful though if you go out to a hookah bar, or just go out into the nightlife in general. I am seeing that you will be going to a cookout. I am seeing the image of a thermometer's heat rising. I feel like you may have tension with someone that's super thick, lol. All in all, I feel that this month for you will determine the theme of this summer for you all. You got your wings, you've been promoted! It may be hard to focus on the positives because of your circumstances but you will survive. This month will feel weird because it’s like your on two ends of the spectrum. One part is good and the other is gone to shit, but all will work in your favor boo! See the good in life.

Cards Used: Page of Cups, Queen of Discs, Ace of Cups, 5 of Discs, The World, 10 of Swords, Justice.

extras: arrogance. cheap labor. pennyslvania. slabs. coney island. sweet! livelihood. perfume. body shapewear. antisocial club.

Pile Two: Idk why but your energy reminds me of Natalie Nunn lol. Not the messy parts but the part about her where she's unintentionally funny and fun to be around. Your energy feels very much party girl, I could easily get in this section if I wanted to type of vibe. Anyway, I think that you are going to be strengthening some platonic connections that you already have. But I also think that you're going to cut someone loose --- someone who has been around for a while. The name Harold comes to mind. Have you eaten Harold's Chicken as of recently, lol? I think that you're going to have sharper instincts as a result. You're going to see people for who they are. I am seeing the image of a butterfly flying on someone's nose. You will be growing up in the month of May. There is an emphasis on meditation. You're being called to devoting your time to staying in the present. You're being asked to go within and get more introspective. Also, cut back on the refined sugars. I think you'll be listening to Amaraae and Solange more often this month as well.

Cards Used: King of Cups, 3 of Cups, Strength, Death, King of Swords, The Hermit, Prince of Discs, 2 of Swords, The Lovers.

extras: big eyes. blonde hair. shapely. wiz khalifa. stunna shades. "i ain't going nowhere." "get comfy." gloomy. rainbow tips.

Pile Three: Someone in this pile is going to be reuniting with their family at a prom sendoff, at a graduation, a party. Either way, it will be a celebration. This pile will also be very grateful in the month of May. You are also going to have many opportunities to make quick money with the people that you love (not necessarily family but anyone that makes you feel safe). A love opportunity will be coming through for you as well. I don't see this as something you should take serious. I think you want to be independent right now, that person understands and they will give you your space for the time being. If you're trying to curate an event, don't worry too much about what people will think because it's going to be a big turnout regardless. I think some of you will be going to a wedding or will be getting married. So, congratulations to that! I also think that some of you will be meeting your future spouses in this pile (you won't know it yet though). Overall, I feel that this month is a great month for you to focus on community building.

Cards Used: The Emperor, The Hierophant, 9 of Swords, King of Wands, Justice, 3 of Discs, 8 of Wands, 4 of Wands, Ace of Cups.

extras: entrepreneurial spirit. aquamarine. blue butterflies. single father. "something cute, something for the summertime."

[lesinquietes]

Convict!Shigaraki debriefs you on what to say to the cops when they inevitably come to question you about his whereabouts. You’ll smile and tell them you haven’t seen a damn thing. If they ask to come inside, he’ll kill them and you. The latter is just a threat, if he’s honest; he thinks he’s going to use you for a different purpose once the police are done scoping.

His crimson irises brighten when you have the balls to ask him what he was going to jail for. If you were one of those cheap, nosey whores he used to fuck when he was high, he might have told you to mind your business. But you’re not like them; you’re a real woman. He doesn’t know if that has something to do with why he decides to indulge you.

Mass murder. Conspiracy to form a cult. Drug possession. Burglary. Assault/battery. Aggravated assault. The list goes on. He explains that he tried to take down the chief of police, Toshinori Yagi. He failed and went into hiding. He recruited a few followers into his brigade. They called themselves The League. Soon enough, someone called in a tip, and his location was raided. He got busted. He was being transported to await trail when the vehicle crashed. If convicted of his crimes, he faces the death sentence. He vows to you he’s never going back.

He grasps your chin and forces you to look at him. He assures you he doesn’t want to kill you. He’s going to settle down for a few years. He thinks he’ll lay low for six months, and then re-emerge as a husband your family arranged for you. He goes through your jewelry and finds a decent ring. It fits on your engagement finger. You’re gobsmacked when he instructs you to begin the process of telling anyone who asks that you’ll be married by winter. You think he can’t be serious… but he is. You won’t actually be wedded; he’ll forge the document to make it look authentic. You don’t have much of a say in the matter, what with the threat of death looming over your head.

He thinks your expression of helplessness is adorable. All of you is. He thinks he’s going to have fun playing house with you; it’ll be the first normal experience with another human being he’s had since he was a child. He promises you he won’t stay here forever, that country life is boring. He would prefer to be back in the city, where he can do things. In fact, he’s already sick of it here.

He doesn’t know how honest he’s being, though.

Previous l Next

𝔉𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔲

[ladylooch]

A Year Ago- [Timo x Emma]

A/N: To celebrate a year ago and making a perfect lil bundle of joy!

Word Count: 1.1k

Emma can remember every single detail of a year ago tonight. 

The jealous monster in her chest.

The sadness of Timo really seeming like he was done with her.

The stroke of his fingers on her bare shoulders as he slid those cheap wings off her body. 

The high of giving into each other again, then the way it felt so different afterwards, wrapped up in him.

A year ago her wouldn’t believe where she is now.

Living in New Jersey full-time.

Taking care of the three month old her and Timo made that night.

How much she loves it. How much she misses Timo right now as he flies home to her from Western Canada.

Even as she loses the willpower to stay awake until he gets home.

But she doesn't have to miss him anymore because he's there with her in her dreams.

Reality and sleep shift together when Timo gets home. In her dream, he strokes her arm up to her cheek and softly whispers her name. His touch lights her on fire and she lunges at him, sucking his tongue into her mouth and wrapping herself around him as much as she can. Timo chuckles in the dream, sounding loud enough that Emma flinches. Then he disappears, replaced by a dark room that looks like her bedroom. 

“Mmm.” She mutters as she feels backs of fingers stroke her cheek. This time, she knows they're real when her husband's wedding ring cools her red skin.

“Em, I have to have you. Please wake up.” Timo murmurs. He rolls her onto her back, giving her gentle smooches, nudging his nose along her neck to try and convince her to open up to him. She lazily throws an arm around his neck, holding him to her body as he kisses down her chest. “Hurry, before Lee wakes up.” He begs her. 

Emma’s eyes open, they’re melted pools of chocolate as they take in her desperate husband. She can’t help but smirk, then grab his tie to pull him back to her mouth. Her kisses are languid, exaggerated, making him ache for her until his hand moves from her abdomen to the apex of her thighs. He nudges them apart, pulling her panties to the side so he can stroke her bare flesh.

Emma murmurs her approval to him, continuing to kiss him, then moans into his mouth when he circles her clit just right.

“That. More.” She demands. 

Timo obliges, never one to tell Emma no. The rough pads of his fingers create a sinful friction as the coil inside of her tightens. His nose strokes along hers, breath colliding together against wet lips. Timo dips his fingers towards her wetness, gathering it on the tips of them then rolling her clit faster until she comes. After, he kisses her down from her high, sighing at how good she looks undone because of him.

“You are gorgeous. I’m so lucky.” 

“I’m so lucky. I love you.” Emma says back to him. 

Together, they work each other’s clothes off. Emma’s pajamas fall to the end of the bed. Timo’s game day attire hits the floor. They both agree to ignore the bassinet holding a sleeping baby.

Timo strokes himself through her slick folds. Emma reaches between them, grabbing his shaft and putting his head against her entrance. Then Timo plunges in, not willing to deny either of them any longer. 

Mutual groans sigh through the bedroom. 

Timo’s hips aren’t tired from the game earlier. They’re fueled by the explicit moans dropping from his wife below. Maybe on another night, Timo would roll her into every which position, but not this night. Tonight, they’ll have each other like they did a year ago. 

Emma’s head drops forward to Timo’s shoulder, making everything tighter. She begs for more and praises him when he hits every part of her just right. His lips kiss any part of her they can reach. They’re both sweltering hot under the comforter, but weirdly comforted by the heat. It’s as hot as it can be on a November night. Similar to a year ago.

Slowly, Timo’s pumps build until slapping skin explodes through the room. His hips slam into her, thighs bouncing off her ass as he takes her completely.

“Baby.” She sighs to him, fingernails denting the skin on his huge shoulders. “Yes.” 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so perfect.” He compliments her, chasing her lips back to his.

They stay that way. Timo fucking her deep. Kissing each other until a white light blinds Emma’s closed eyelids as she comes. 

“Oh!” She exclaims with heavy breath, comping her lip immediately to try to be quieter. Her heels press into his ass to keep him deep inside of her, begging for him to fill her up. White ropes paint her inner walls as Timo groans. He brings himself to his knees, rutting into her a bit longer, until neither of them can stand it, then he pulls out, flopping against her clit. He strokes a bead of cum along her slit with his cock, then sits back, sighing contently.

“I love you, baby. Come here.” He demands, shifting onto his side next to her after crawling out from between her legs. Emma wiggles her way across the comforter, getting lost in the scent of him and them, nestled in the crook of his neck. His hand comes to her ass, holding it softly in his hand. Timo's lips find her hair, kissing along the parted brown strands.

“How has it been a year?” She asks him.

“I don’t know.” He answers between kisses on her head. "Hell of one though."

“I’m happy, T. Are you?”

“Of course, Em. Thrilled. Estatic. Over the moon about you and me and Lee forever.” He assures her. Emma smiles. She already knew that, but it’s still nice to hear from him.

A few shuddering breaths come from the bassinet beside Emma. Both Timo and Emma hold their own breath. The shudders turn to cries causing Emma to pull away from Timo.

“Oh no.” Timo shakes his head, sitting up in bed. “I’ll get him, babe.”

Timo rounds the bed, grabbing his underwear and pulling it back on. He tosses Emma her pajamas, then collects their son from his bassinet. 

“Hi buddy.” Timo murmurs, kissing his nose then across both of his cheeks. “You’re okay. Mama and daddy are here.”

Emma can’t help it. She tears up.

No, this life a year ago would have scared the shit out of her.

Thank God she isn’t that person anymore.

Read more Timo and Emma here.

[blackknight-100]

Hi dear. Thank you for your lovely answers. May you please write something really angsty on Uttarkand about Sita and Ram along with a short resolution. Thanks again.

Hello! Thank you for the ask, here you go! I hope you like reading this:

1.

He learns it in the morning. It is bare five minutes past breakfast, five minutes since Sita put her arms around his neck and offered him pieces of chopped areca, five minutes of missing the sweetest woman in all the three worlds. Five minutes till his life is uprooted once more, like that fateful day so many years ago.

“Forgive me, My King,” says the messenger. He bows low, shoulders bent close to his hip. He is also quivering, for who would not when given the unenviable task of speaking to the king of the dishonor of a wife so dearly loved?

Rama turns away from the man. He is a god, even unawares, his Queen divine and divine-born. What should the complaints of mortal men mean to them? And yet so it does, as it did to his father, and their fathers before him. And so Rama, well-read in Dharma and the duties of Kings, bends his godly head to the whims of a washerman.

“So be it,” he says.

 

By the end of the night, Ayodhya’s royal family is in tatters. The most loyal of brothers spends his night howling at the king, deeming his orders an injustice. The most virtuous of wives sees the morning sun through the eaves of the forest, and the childing mother weeps.

 

2.

Koushalya has never been anything less than selflessly kind – and Rama has never shied away from making use of it. So he did when Dasharatha sent her only son away, so he did when Sita left her bereft of a daughter in her old age, and so he did when he refused to go with Bharata and dashed her hopes of a loving reunion. And Koushalya, who has never sought any joy for herself, Koushalya, daughter of Kosala – the greed for which kingdom is the root of all ills – bent her head to wills of her son and her daughter and her king, and asked no more.

Perhaps that is why Rama is so surprised when she insists on him remarrying. Why does she not understand that he cannot love another woman the same way she could never love any man other than Dasharatha?

“That is not true,” his mother says. “I learned to love your father out of duty, as he did as well. So too will you.”

“That is a terrible thing to say.”

“It is not, Rama. Not every man has beheld his bride in a fragrant garden, not every woman has walked the length and breadth of Aryavarta for her exiled groom. Most of us wedded in duty, for the king and kingdom that fed us and named us daughter and queen. It makes our love and loss no less. Such is the nature of things. So I have stood beside your late father with two sister-wives, and so I have held my Kosala close and dear, and loved her as I have loved you all. And so you shall now as well, for the kingdom that names you King.”

Rama hears this long speech and hears her interspersed sighs. He is King – by virtue of his birth and his mother’s as well – and a hundred thousand men in Ayodhya alone send him tribute for it. His raiment is ever sparkling and yellow-gold, his table groans under food. All men exalt him, from the foot of the mountains to the tip of seas, more than they even do Indra, King of Gods – is his loss of love not meagre payment?

And Rama, god-king, turns away and bows. “So be it,” he says and bends his head.

By noon, a sculptor is summoned, a hundred ingots of gold collected, and a thousand golden coins offered. By the time the fires of the Ashwamedha Yajna is lit, the Queen’s empty place at Rama’s side is filled by a golden mockery of the greatest woman on Aryavart.

 

3.

Sita of the forest is much changed, and yet she is still the same. Before her hermit’s attire Rama and his silks appear cheap; her garlands of flowers make mockery of his gold and jewels. Even Surya, father of Ikshvaku’s Clan, bends his rays around her curves, shamed by the light in her eyes.

Come back, he wants to say, please, come back with me.

And yet Rama is King where Sita is no longer queen, and will never be unless every man in Ayodhya knows of her innocence. Lanka knew, as did Kishkinda, for Rama would not allow any tarnish upon the name of Raghu’s scions. From his own people he had sought more trust, to his own folly.

She looks at him quietly, clutching at wild children who should have known palaces, with tears in eyes that should have never seen such sorrow.

But Rama has bowed his head to the will of his people, has heard their charges and said, “So be it.”

 

And thus under the eaves of a forest sister to Dandaka, Sita’s chastity is questioned again. And thus, the King strikes the innocent once more, punishing where he should have shielded, being the judge where he should have been the guard, and the ransom for a Queen’s return is named.

 

+1.

Gentle is the land of Mithila, sweet are her songs. Wise is her sagely King, and blessed are her people. And so she has passed these virtues unto her daughter, as all good mothers do, for the land has borne Sita long before any man could lay claim upon her.

To scorn her is to scorn the loyal, the hapless and the earthbound; to forsake her is to forsake the daughter and the mother and the wife. Kosala, the kingdom that called itself Dasharatha’s for all that Koushalya was its child, has done just that – a land of raving men that seeks to destroy those who have borne and raised them.

Sita has been wife for nigh two decades, is even now a mother. And yet she is woman, and her kin are those with curved hips and gentle hands – beautiful features that would be sought and lusted after like leopards lust for calves. And as the farmer bemoans the trembling calf that strayed from the herd, so too would the world bemoan the women who fall into the jaws of men, would say: why did she not run away, why did she not fight; why did she not slay herself, that now one must doubt her husband’s might?

So, Sita lifts her head where it had been bowed, blinks tears away from her eyes.

“That cannot be,” she tells the King, for no longer is Rama husband and lover, and shakes her head.

“Mother!” she calls. Divine she is, and divine-born, and the earth, her mother, rends apart for her. Her children scream, her once-husband howls. But Sita is no longer mother and wife. It is time for her to be a daughter.

(By noon, Lav-Kusha are motherless where they once had no father, and Kosala is orphaned again. The kingdom laments and wails, but Sita is gone. Forgiveness, even from a goddess lasts only so far. And yet centuries later her tale is still told, for it is a woman’s fate to be bloody, but may she ever be unbowed.)

[michellemisfit]

It is time for @gallacrafts Theme 22: PRIDE!

Gather round and I will tell you a little story…

🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈

The balcony in their west side apartment may not be huge, but it’s big enough to fit a small table and two chairs. When they first moved in, Ian’s idea had been to have regular brunches out here, enjoying the early morning sun and each other’s company.

Mickey pointed out that brunch was gay, and that he preferred an early morning fuck to early morning French toast, anyway.

Ian punched Mickey in the shoulder with a grumbled “Shut up”, and left it at that, sure he’d find a way to convince his husband soon enough. He always did.

But then word spread about Gallavich Security and they really couldn’t turn down any new clients because they needed the money for rent, and utilities, and furniture, and ambulance repairs, and Mickey gave those polka dancers an extra big tip at the end of their anniversary celebration, which Ian thought was really sweet, but it all added up.

And so, their lives got busy for a while, and since they weren’t using the balcony for luxurious married couple brunches, Ian started filling the space with plants.

He picked up a load of potted herbs one day, because they were on sale and the idea of having fresh herbs at all times made him smile. And once they had basil readily growing then of course tomatoes had to be next. Mickey found him reading an article about gardening in restricted spaces one evening and the next time he returned from a grocery run he unceremoniously dropped a hanging basket in Ian’s lap. “For your tomatoes” he muttered, before going to the kitchen to get a beer. Ian smiled after him, besotted with his grumpy husband.

Next Ian picked up some ferns for cheap. And one of their neighbours asked if they’d like some of her surplus spider plants, as they propagated better than she had expected.

The week after that Ian bought some blue agapanthus, for more money than he should have spent, but they reminded him of their wedding flowers – which meant he just had to buy them. So yeah, the plants start to add up.

And suddenly it’s June. They’d finally hired two new drivers and just finished training them, introducing them to all their clients, explaining the routes, the shortcuts, the high police presence areas to avoid at all costs… y’know, the usual.

And now? Well, now they have an entire week to themselves! Their first ever “vacation”, and Ian is determined to kick it off in style. He carefully gets out of bed. Mickey grumbles, smacks his lips, and turns his face into Ian’s pillow, inhaling deeply and settling back into sleep.

Ian opens the Pinterest App on his phone (he talks to his plants and is desperate to convince his husband of how great brunch is - of course he has a Pinterest account…) and lays everything he needs out on the counter, before heading out to the balcony to make some space. He shuffles plants around and adjusts furniture until he’s happy they’ll be able to sit comfortably. He heads back inside to start a pot of coffee and get to flipping pancakes.

He’s taken care of the few misshapen clouds from his earliest tries (by eating them, obviously!) and he’s just messing about with sprinkling some powdered sugar on the finished plates when he hears Mickey questioningly calling his name.

Picking up both plates and two coffee mugs he calls back “On the balcony!” before stepping outside and adding the plates and mugs to the already laid out cutlery, milk, and maple syrup. He steps back into the kitchen to get the full coffee pot and he’s just filled Mickey’s mug when the man himself steps out into the snug space.

“What’s all this?” Mickey asks, amusement and fondness in his voice.

Ian glances over at him then quickly away. He feels the tingling heat of a blush on his cheeks and suddenly feels silly for the amount of fuss he’s made, so tries to play it off as casual and says, shrugging “I made us some pancakes.”

Mickey looks at the pancake rainbows and powdered sugar covered clouds on both of their plates, sat next to steaming cups of coffee, and raises an eyebrow at his husband. “Yeah, you sure did…” he starts, teasingly, reaching for Ian’s neck and scritch scritch scritching through the short hair at his nape. He glances back at the table and concludes: “That’s really fucking gay, Gallagher.”

Ian laughs, slapping Mickey’s hand off his neck, only to grab his face in both hands and pull him in for a lingering kiss, mumbling on the pull back to “Shut up, and eat your Pride Pancakes, Mick”

Delivering one more smacking kiss to Ian’s lips Mickey goes to sit down, positively beaming at his ridiculous husband. “Happy fucking Pride to us.”

Rooster mugs created by the fabulous @deedala, and available for purchase here. || If you’d like to see some in progress pictures of the pancakes then head over here :)

And lastly, as an extra sweet treat, below is some real life footage of Ian enjoying the Pride Pancakes!

.

.

.

.

.

[zmediaoutlet]

Happy Wincest Wednesday! As today is my wedding anniversary, maybe a little low-key anniversary celebration for Sam and Dean?

Dean comes back to the motel room with six pack of beer -- standard -- and a bag of takeout chinese -- standard, and hopefully he actually ordered the ma po tofu even if he was making fun of it, because Sam's seriously been having a craving -- and a tiny, palm-sized teddy bear, which Sam only discovers when Dean says think fast and chucks it at his face, and Sam does catch it but barely, and then holds it in both hands, baffled. It's purple, soft, and wildly cheap. Probably made by the million in China, somewhere. "What the hell," he says.

"C'mon, baby," Dean says, sugary, which makes Sam look back up at him, horrified. "Can't a guy do something nice for his best girl?"

"Uh," Sam says, "no?", but luckily Dean's expression cracks and he grins more naturally. He cracks a beer and then a second, and leans his hip on the table next to Sam's laptop, and Sam looks back down at the bear, wondering if it's -- cursed, or something. Probably not but, then again, Dean calling him his best girl. Something cursed is happening here.

"Had 'em at the register at the Circle K," Dean says. "Along with those, you know, little roses in the crack pipes? Blast from the past. Think it's prom around here, soon, or something."

The bear's got little black bead eyes and a vinyl triangle patch of nose, which has been sewed on crooked. On one foot, Sam sees, there's a red silky heart, which Sam touches with a thumb, and then looks up at his brother.

"Know where we are?" Dean says.

"I would've said Earth, but--" Sam says, and holds up the bear, raising his eyebrows in a way that should get Dean to spill, but Dean's actually waiting for an answer, his mouth still tugged up soft at the corner. Sam drops his hand, holding the bear in his lap, thinking. "Uh, California. Off the 5, Bakersfield, the Pearl Motel--"

"Bakersfield," Dean says, and finally hands Sam his beer. "About... hell, fifteen years ago now. I think that's right."

Fifteen years ago? That was... when Dean was going to hell. Dean with a deal dragging him down, and the darkness roaring up. They did come to Bakersfield, Sam remembers, finally. A hunt, while he was trying to come up with anything that'd fix it, and Dean hadn't been happy exactly but he hadn't been lying anymore and that was something. Sam sets the teddy on his laptop -- it's badly balanced and tips over, ear bonking gently against the spacebar -- and Dean gets his boot between Sam's ankles, swivels the desk chair so Sam's really facing him. Not really smiling anymore but his eyes still soft. "This is where we were when I decided to believe you," Dean says. Sam sits up straight. "Even if you were nuts. I don't know. I just -- believed you. How you wanted to fix it and I thought maybe you could. I don't know if I ever said thank you for that."

"I was wrong," Sam says, a sorry acid curving through his gut, but Dean shakes his head, says, "All's well that ends well, Sammy," and that's a pretty lackadaisical way to dismiss being murdered by demons and destiny but Dean lifts a shoulder, glances around at the motel room where they're safe, alive, together.

"Bakersfield, huh," Sam says. He remembers more, now. A -- ghost, it was. And they burned the bones, and Sam almost got his arm torn off but didn't, and when they got back to that other motel all those years ago --

Dean's grinning at him, now. "Remember?" he says, and Sam does, in growing and delightful detail that somehow hasn't been blotted out by all the years between that night and this one, all the times Dean's spread his legs or Sam's gotten on his knees or the hurried grasping in tight dark corners or how sometimes Dean will look at him and Sam can't, physically, do any other thing but step close and get Dean's face between his palms and lean down, press his lips against where Dean's smiling, because he can't come up with any other way to say what it means -- what it has always meant, even when times bad or were awful or were just -- what they had to be, for them to both get to the next time that could be better.

"I didn't get you anything," Sam says.

Dean tips the teddy back over, so its little red-hearted foot is pointing Sam's way, and then reaches out to clink their beers together. "No big, Sammy," he says, and he's still grinning but his ears are turning that telltale red. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

[cr33pypaper]

Random collection of headcanons (that are kinda basic) for the HoA cast:

Nick

Nick grew up in a family that went to church almost every week, but since enlisting, he hasn't been. He starts going again after they survive.

Was in the choir and very shy about it as a kid

He also grew up in a close knit, large family that has a military history

Picked up his smoking habit in High School and hasn't been able to quit. His family gives him shit for it, but it helps him calm down

For some reason, I feel like he's the 2nd oldest in his family and his older sibling went into the miltary? And he followed in their footsteps, wanting to make them proud. But he also gives off oldest brother vibes :)

His parents and siblings keep in close contact when he's away and sends him gifts and letters even though they call frequently. Jason sometimes gets gifts from them when Nick mentions him

Jason

Has a sister, what is my reasoning? Don't know, gives off those vibes

Former Art Kid turned Burnout

Had long/shaggy hair before joining the military

Cheap as fuck because he grew up poor and can't handle spending money

Used to smoke cigarettes on top of everything else, but quit cold turkey after he enlisted

Had his ears pierced, but came to the conclusion that they looked stupid and stopped wearing them when he joined the Marines

Almost flunked out of High School, but barely scraped by and got his GED

Rachel

Used to play some sort of sport in her school years, maybe Softball or she ran Track

Her and Jason go out for drinks together monthly and sit in silence or bitch about their subordinates

Her and Eric didn't have a big wedding, they got married at the courthouse and had a small party afterwards. She keeps the dress she wore pristine in the back of her closet

Was the bossiest kid ever and the teachers always chose her to be the representative. She was the best line leader known to man

Would drive a jeep or a pick-up

Paints her nails a light pink or glossy clear, but would get french tips when she wasn't following dress code

Got a fuck ass bob once as a teenager and regretted it so bad she refused to try a new hairstyle for years and years

A BEAST at card games. Beat the whole squad's ass at Blackjack, many of them still have flashbacks and refuse to play any game with her

Her career is her livelihood, has vacation time stacked up and rarely uses it

Black coffee drinker

Eric

Jumped at the opportunity to have Clarise as his assistant, handpicked her when he saw her resume

Wanted to have kids/a kid before him and Rachel's marriage went downhill

Only child vibes

Radiohead fan vibes

Always adored science and was one of those kids who wanted to be an astronaut

Guilty pleasure is those stupid ass sitcoms that runs late

Threw himself into work after the accident, trying to distract himself and Clarise would find him passed out working

Hates the taste of coffee, but drinks it for the energy. He's a tea man at heart

Salim

Used to be the worst cook known to man, but learned when he had Zain and grew to be really good at it

Tried to keep up a good relationship with his neighbors and bring them food when he made extra, but they never grew into the friendships he hoped they would

Has a record player and collects records of any genre, but enjoys slow music

Zain helps him cut his hair

Sweet tooth for desserts, especially chocolates

Dances like a dad to his records and drinks tea in the mornings to classical music while tending to his garden

Never got a chance to go to university, but always wanted to. Loved school

[hackerqueen]

Another Love

Chapter 3: Runaway

Previous chapter <-

warnings: none i think but if you catch any, let me know in the comments!

A week has passed. 7 days, 168 hours since I last saw Jessy. I tried not to think about it, I was absorbed in preparations for the upcoming wedding and bachelorette party. I forgot my behavior in the car and the messages from Lilly I received on the evening of the ill-fated day.

Lilly: I know it's hard for you

Lilly: I know you see him too

Lilly: But that's impossible.

MC: I won't let you make me insane. Not this time.

Lilly: I'm not saying that at all. But it's impossible that you saw him.

This message was followed by a minute of silence, followed by another heartbreaking one.

Lilly: You can't see him because he's dead

I did not reply. In fact, the blonde didn't even wait for an answer. She simply closed the newly opened wound, which was slowly sticking together.

I looked at my reflection, searching for the old sparks that I knew had left my brown eyes forever. I scanned my body clad in a red dress that reached my mid-thighs. Seen view.. was decent. I was like a rose, though not fresh and fully bloomed, but dried up. Tonight was supposed to be a good evening. I was supposed to drink, play, dance and forget about God's world. Have fun like there's no tomorrow.

I heard a loud horn of a car that approached my block. I came down and immediately recognized Dan's black Volkswagen. I walked inside and breathed a sigh of relief as I smelled a familiar scent that only reminded me of this man. It had a very distinctive perfume, and in combination with the air freshener it calmed my senses and heart.

– Well, well, well. Someone struced up like a rat for the opening of the sewer.

I looked at him with narrowed eyes, but my feigned indignation couldn't last long once I saw his expression. I burst out laughing, nudging his shoulder hard.

– Gallant as always. – Dan chuckled and drove out of the parking lot. – You know, you keep on being nice to me, and I'm going to think you like me.

The man looked at me again, his other hand lowering his sunglasses to the tip of his nose.

– Who says I don't like you, honey? – he said, deliberately lowering his voice to sound like a lover in a cheap romantic comedy

I rolled my eyes, but there was a wide smile on my face.

– Eyes on the road, Jack Daniels.

I loved those moments when I got into that car and forgot about everything. Sometimes it was friday nights, other times we disappeared for the whole weekend. There was nothing dirty or romantic about our relationship. Of course, it was true that Dan was trying his luck by asking me out to watch horror movies together two years ago, but I'd never agreed to that. We realized that our connection is only platonic and that our hearts belong to someone else. Dan was unlucky in love with Jessy. He confessed this to me six months ago when I drove him drunk from Aurora. It was our first meeting with the whole group, even though I had been living in Duskwood for a year and a half at the time. I had no contact with them all this time, because the group completely shut down. Jessy was experiencing Richy's death, Cleo and Thomas tried to help Hannah in the meantime assimilating with the whole situation. Dan told me everything. About how he tried to be there for the redhead, but she rejected him.

The pack of friends was rapidly falling apart and no one knew how to fix it. I flew to Duskwood two years ago for Richy and Jake's funeral. And I don't even know how or when I stayed here until today. I left my old Californian life behind for a small town. In the States, I had no one worth staying for. I didn't have a family, and a handful of friends accepted my decision rather quickly. I thought it would be different here. That I will start all over again.

– And here we are. – he announced in an optimistic, cheerful voice getting out of the car – I'll bring alcohol and I'll take Tommyboy on the best party in his life.

Hannah's bachelorette party was to be held at her house. It was big enough to party, and she didn't want to do that in Aurora. We walked into her place and I was immediately hit by the loud music. I said hello to each person and showed Dan where to put the crate with various alcohol. We were still standing at the kitchen counter, discussing the evening ahead. We stay here, while Thomas and his friends go to Aurora.

Finally our eyes fell on the opposite end of the room where Hannah and Thomas were. They were joking about something, looking into each other's eyes while looking so happy. They looked like fulfilled lovers who overcame many adversities to finally stand on the wedding carpet and connect for life.

– How sweet. – Dan mumbled, and I immediately sensed the irony in his voice

– You have to be a jerk your entire life. Why not take today off? – I replied teasingly as he rolled his eyes

Although we always joked and turned it into sarcasm and irony, deep down we envied them a lot. That they succeeded and we did not.

– Oh, MC, you're here! – I heard a loud scream of Cleo who came over to me and hugged me – Hi Dan. Shit, I forgot to bring my phone upstairs.

– I'll bring you. I have to go to the bathroom anyway. Will you make me a drink? – I suggested to which she immediately agreed.

I did my physiological business and went to Hannah's room where the phone was on the bed. Picking it up, I saw that she was calling and showing her mother's number. I started to head to the ground floor of the house, where I heard loud screams. Looks like they're having fun already.

– Where the fuck have you been?!

I recognized Dan's voice, who was furious. I stood on the penultimate step looking at the group of people in front of me.

– Cleo, your...

The woman turned to me, and only then I saw the person standing in front of the front door. A shiver ran down my spine and my feet dug into the ground. The man was dressed in dark colors, and the hood of a black sweatshirt slightly covered his face. But even from this distance, I knew who he was. He was a ghost who haunted me on what was supposed to be my stepping stone. He couldn't let himself be forgotten.

I saw him lift his head, look from an enraged Dan to me. I felt his blue eyes piercing me. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I heard his voice.

– Hello MC.

I knew that voice was the thorns decorating my tense body. That voice was the beginning of my end. So without thinking, I turned around and started running upstairs, leaving them all behind me.

I ran away from him although once I would run for him.

[deanmarywinchester]

so.. any tips on brands that will sell you menswear in women’s sizes? it’s hard out here for a dyke pls share your wisdom

my wisdom is limited — my main problem with men’s sizes is finding tops/jackets with small enough shoulders and shoes that are small enough to fit me. this is obviously a different problem than people have if they have larger chests or need plus sized clothes so I have less info on that. but stuff that’s worked for me:

my best men’s dress shoes and boots are Clark’s (they make menswear styles in the women’s section) and Thursday boots (they run their men’s styles relatively small and have a women’s section that iirc also makes relatively androgynous styles). these are not cheap but I treat the leather a couple times a year and they still look great with years of intensive wear. the most compliments I get on anything I wear are for Clark’s desert boots, which is hilarious because they’re such basic nice ish menswear that they’re the icon for r/malefashionadvice. my last pair lasted me six years of wearing them almost literally every day nine months of the year.

uniqlo tends to run their men’s tops and jackets down into xxs sizes which fit my shoulders

levi’s have a wide enough variety of sized pants that I found a size that fits wider hips and shorter legs (and they last forever)

suits are pretty difficult. my one nice one is a j crew women’s suit that looks essentially like a men’s suit just with the button on the wrong side. also not cheap but significantly discounted several times a year and you only need one for special occasions unless you have a Suits Job. i bit the bullet and bought one two years ago and now I look hot at weddings.

in general, niche high end brands will sometimes offer deep discounts on unsold stock which is usually their smallest sizes. I usually don’t have the patience to keep checking this but if you check r/malefashionadvice and see stuff that looks cool and expensive, keep in mind that what fits you best you may actually be able to afford. not always because people on reddit are snobs with crazy amounts of money to spend on clothes. but Ive found stuff for 90% off before

I also just have good thrifting privilege living in nyc 🫡 but vintage women’s pants with pleats fit my menswear aesthetic and my best ones are vintage j crew and vintage ll bean if you want to try to punch that into depop or something

[sanctissimx]

offer me + zyl and ye zun(:

meme.

Leave a “Offer Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character giving yours a gift.

The muted scrape of his house slippers flopping lazily upon the pavement heralded the arrival of Zhao Yunlan into his own home. A faded, threadbare bathrobe was all that protected him from the winter winds, his fuzzy slippers soaked and matted with muddy, melting snow. Fumbling for his housekeys with an arm full of discounted ramen packs, he was so relieved to be inside that he only noticed a figure leaning against within the threshold of his hallway door.

Yelping, Zhao Yunlan hugged the ramen to his chest, crushing them into a sad myriad of a million broken noodle pieces, even as his fright abated, immediately replacedby a spike of fond excitement as he saw the face of his beloved Shen Wei, and ending finally with a thick disappointment as he realized who it was.

His eyes narrowed, lips curling as his mouth attempted a friendly smile that was nothing more than a thinly-veiled disgust. "Home invasion?" he asked, tentatively.

Ye Zun rolled his eyes and produced an envelope from his front pocket, offering it up between the tips of his fingers. "Happy birthday," he said coldly. The greeting was no less than a threat.

Zhao Yunlan grimaced anew and refused to move. "It's not my birthday."

Ye Zun pursed his lips impatiently. "Early wedding present, then."

Wincing, Zhao Yunlan approached with care, instinctively lowering his hand gripping the ramen to protect himself in case Ye Zun decided to take a cheap shot at the family jewels. Carefully, he took the envelope with an uncomfrotable smile that was nothing more than baring his teeth awkwardly. "Thanks," he mumbled, opening the envelope with an exagerrated care.

Inside was a slip of paper, upon which was the half-obscured image printed on with bad quality ink. "A Groupon?" Zhao Yunlan asked, thoroughly confused. "Is that what it says?"

Ye Zun smirked, evidently pleased with himself. "Yeah. Six months of free haircuts at the SmartStyle Walmart salon. I could have sprung for a full year for another $5, but I figured I'd wait in case my brother changed his mind about you. Wouldn't want a good fiver to go to waste."

To his surprise, Zhao Yunlan smiled warmly, truly touched at the thoughtfulness. "Hey, thanks!" he said, before pulling Ye Zun into a genuine embrace. "That was really thoughtful of you!"

Ye Zun stiffened feeling those unfamiliar arms around him, and it was his turn to look concerned when Zhao Yunlan had finally let go of him. "... I'm saying you're ugly and you're not worth five dollars."

Zhao Yunlan nodded, smiling serenely. "I'm sure that's a compliment, coming from you! I mean, afterall, you did find the time to figure out where I lived, break in, and buy me haircuts. Like, that's kind of thoughtful of you—" He leaned in, smirking now. "Brother-in-law."

Ye Zun made a strangled sound of utter revulsion, making five hundred chins of recoiling disgust as he snatched the paper out of Zhao Yunlan's hands and hurtled himself out the door.

[kittycatpopprincess]

Day 6: It Feels Like Home

It had been so long since Atsuko Kagari Cavendish had been home. She had been travelling the world for two months now. But today was the day she was supposed to finally come back, and the thought of her return had been on Diana’s mind all day. She checked her watch, securely strapped to the inside of her wrist: After cleaning out the large house they shared, dusting, vacuuming, hanging the latest batch of laundry outside to dry and making one last round of inspection to make sure everything was perfect, it was already five in the afternoon. She had about five hours left until Akko arrived. Silently, she took her wedding ring out of her trouser’s coin pocket, holding it carefully in her palm and turning it, one, two, three times; Diana was not the superstitious type, but this little ritual helped her feel at east while she silently wished for Akko to be alright and come back to her soon. She put the ring back in her coin pocket, not yet done with the day’s work. Akko would arrive in time for dinner, and for this occasion, Diana made sure to cook something special. She walked into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of her beige shirt. Already, she gathered the ingredients to cook a boeuf bourguignon, one of Akko’s favourite dishes ever since she tasted it for the first time while visiting the Burgundy region where Chariot, her teacher, mentor and idol, was born. Prime beef already diced and left overnight in red wine, thyme and bay leaves, locally-grown carrots and onions; She carefully prepared them all, browning the meat, deglazing the wine, bringing the whole to simmer and left it to slowly cook over for the next few hours.

Next on her list was to take a thorough shower, and dress properly for her wife’s return. A silk, soft peach button up gifted to her for her Akko’s first christmas in their common house; Off-white flannel trousers, the same one she wore at Akko’s Glasgow show three years ago; Plum purple earrings which dangled from her lobes, her beloved’s favourite. Diana didn’t get attached to things easily. All she kept had some sentimental value and meaning. In essence, that night, Diana dressed by choosing her favourite memories, down to the last minute detail. She took her ring in the palm of her hand again, and turned it three times before putting it back on. One last check that she had bath salts and candles to run her wife a bath later if needed, and she was done here too.

She had some time left, and went to the living room, carefully scanning through the impressive collection of records they had amassed over the years. One after another, she slowly tipped the sleeves before settling on one album, the cheap cardboard sleeve beginning to fall apart from how much they had listened to it. Emily Bindiger’s 1971 album “Emily”. The record was placed on the turntable and started spinning, music filling every room of the house. Finally, Diana added a bit of chocolate to the sauce of the almost thoroughly cooked beef, lit up a stick of cinnamon-scented incense, and went to open the door as soon as she heard the three knocks she knew by heart by now. As soon as she did, Akko took her in her arms, holding her close after months of being apart. And in this moment, Diana felt comfort in all that was missing up until now. The sound of her laughter, her delicate perfume, the warmth of her arms around her. Akko was finally here.

“Welcome back, my darling.”

This was home again.

-

A/N: It ended up being a day late, but here's my contribution to Dianako week 2023! This was honestly pretty fun to write despite being a bit short, even by my standards. Hopefully I managed to avoid typos and the likes. And uuuh I hope you had fun reading if you read it all!

@dianakko-week

[allthebeautifulsouls]

TW for dubious consent, potentially sexual assault

I absolutely adore Intoxication by the inimitable jonnimir. This is an imagined continuation of that fic (found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41607915). That fic’s basic premise: Zemo gets drunk, gets sad, gets horny—it’s his wedding anniversary to his dead wife. He throws himself at Bucky, who is too interested in getting off to care about Zemo’s wellbeing (because obviously Zemo is self-destructive af so can’t be trusted with his own wellbeing…), so what starts as Zemo encouraging Bucky to fuck him ends with Zemo crying while Bucky roughly uses him for his own pleasure. I like to think of Bucky as an at least vaguely good human being, so this alternate characterization was so fun (and obv hot) to play with.

This is very much a draft, so if you have any thoughts reactions or feedback pleaseeeee lmk, love yall! The theme is basically just Zemo using Bucky as a form of self-destruction/self-harm which Bucky is all too happy (or potentially unaware?) to oblige, until an encounter happens where Zemo feels a complete and terrifying loss of control.

START:

It happens again. And again. James starts putting the drinks in his hand.

Zemo doesn’t say no.

He never says no. He reaches up and out, takes a long sip, swallows. He laughs, long and high and clear—nobody expects that. Sam’s raised eyebrows are a delight, every time, cutting through his usual apathy with a joy so fierce it makes him wonder—

Well, enough of that. Another drink, another, and he’s again floating.

At some point in the evening he closes his eyes. He opens them, to the curls at James’ ear, at the nape of his neck. The breadth of those shoulders always seem to encompass his perceptual awareness. to block everything else out. And his smell is always a relief, a comfort he never quite understands.

After the first memorable incident, they don’t stray too far. A cheap hotel room, a bar bathroom, the hood of a car, the backseat (as cramped as he feared). On one occasion the gritty concrete patio of a midwestern motel. His shirt rucks up and his soft stomach is inflamed for days.

Zemo doesn’t know what exactly James thinks the two of them are doing. He has never so much as hinted at it while sober, and James seems all too happy to follow his lead. James, of course, is always sober, barring one incident with some Asgardian Mead obtained by quasi dubious means in High Town one visit to Sharon’s and revealed only upon their return to Riga. This marks the one time Zemo feels genuine fear in James’ presence. It is mid-afternoon and he is in the public baths. They are different from the Sokovian customs, but just similar enough that he can allow the flows of ritual to roll over him, subsume him in their precise ordering of the world. The relief of such direction overwhelms him, and he thinks as he sluices water from his skin, perched on the edge, that this might be the closest thing to peace he’s had since—

A harsh clatter from the front of the facility jolts him from his reverie. Raised, worried voices, and one near maniacal laugh, they bounce around the domed space, until it’s a cacophony, an invading army, a rapidly rising tide—His mind is blank, his skin numb. He can’t think, he can’t feel—

James rolls through like thunder, swerving a rather alarming amount. Wall to wall, on one such pass he tips into the cold pool. Zemo flinches at the splash, realizing on the heady rush of an inhale that he had forgotten to breathe. What few other patrons are there flee amidst the havoc. Some part of Zemo watches them go, tracks their progress, tactical (potential human collateral—unacceptable), nostalgic (old men, all of them, Slavic faces, he thinks of his father, his grandfather…). James surfaces and shakes like a dog, some wild mountain of a beast, flesh stretched, rippling over bone and sinew. He lunges—once, twice, and he has impossibly traversed the length of the facility, he is here, he is here—

James grabs him around the shoulders, throws them both in. Zemo can feel it when James metal hand—cradling his head—jars the pool floor, absorbing the would-be fatal impact, before he’s forced back up through the water. The swells, the near brush with his particular mortality, it all completely disorients him. Airborne, peculiarly weightless, he flings his gaze towards the exit, confirms that the last few men have scurried out.

His breath comes in heaving gasps—“James–James”—as the man in question hauls Zemo’s sopping form up out of the pool, splays him out on the tile. Zemo thinks he hears a ringing in his ears, his gaze flitting across the beautifully tiled ceiling, unable to focus.