#I'm forever indebted

[dinosaurwithablog]

Thank you for your service and your sacrifice. I love this country very, very much. You protected my family, and for that, I am forever indebted to you and your families. Bless you all, and thank you so very much... 💜💜💜🫂🫂🫂

[sainz100]

a very small moment from Exact Live 2018 of the Max and Rico staredown

[nanihirunkits]

HeartKillersTH He wants to get to know the owner better. #TheHeartKillers #GMMTV

[aelswiths]

Aelswith and Alfred (eye fucking) in 2x01

For @kingslionheart, @thedarknone, @volvaaslaug, @garunsdottir

[t-rina]

You have news, Saru.

[wildlyfreemoon]

Hmm thinking ab a reader fell first, spencer reid falling harder scenario

[driftwoodsix]

what do you mean my maisie peters binge is coinciding with an ongoing maisie hate train

[sigurism]

John Davis Chandler The Hooked Generation Dir: William Grefé

[continuousmeowing]

i doodled this while fionna and cake was airing and then forgot to post it but i think it's still relevant

[twinklingwatermellon]

I don't need to live forever, just not one day longer than you

[helaintoloki]

Hello and good evening,

I saw you opened requests so I'm dropping by!

What about an infinity stone mishap that has multiple Bucky variants be at the compound at the same time. (Let's just have Winter Soldier be not entirely murderous for the sake of Tony's heart) and literally no one can seem to keep some apart except Steve and reader, who goes off on a rant about all the teeny tiny, to her very obvious details that differ between the Bucky's and accidentally in doing so admits she has a huge crush on him/them??

I hope that made sense omg

And as always, only if it speaks to you and you're up for it! ♡♡

a/n: hi hon, ty for sending this in! i’ll admit this was a bit challenging to tackle but still fun! hope you don’t mind that i changed a few details in the process <3

warnings: light angst, lots of pining, fluff

summary: a multiversal mishap leaves the compound teeming with Bucky variants, and Steve entrusts you with helping him figure out which one is the real deal

“I think I had a nightmare like this once,” Sam shudders as the two of you survey the plethora of Bucky’s taking up space in the compound. A multiversal mishap had led to an overflow of variants into the compound, and now your team found themselves working vigorously to determine which Bucky was your own and which ones needed to be sent back to their proper dimension.

Getting rid of the Winter Soldiers had been the easiest, the red stars on their arms giving away their identities and also giving Tony a heart attack in the process. You could tell apart the Bucky’s with hair that was too long or too short, the one’s that had brown or green eyes instead of blue, and the ones that went by Jane instead of James. The real work, however, came when there was only a handful of variants left that looked identical to your own Bucky.

“We can’t take any chances,” Steve says after having approached you and Sam. “All of these men are going to insist they’re our version of Bucky, and we can’t risk sending back the wrong one. I’m really going to need your help on this, y/n.”

“Why me?” You retort with furrowed brows, nervously peeking your head out of the office to observe the variants that sit restless in the common room.

“Out of everyone here, you and I know Bucky best,” the blond states truthfully. “I think if we work together we have a better shot at cleaning up this whole mess. The sooner the better.”

“You got that right,” Sam scoffs, prompting you to roll your eyes in response.

You couldn’t exactly deny the truth in Steve’s words. Other than Captain America himself, Bucky considered you to be one of his closest friends. Your kindhearted nature made it easy for him to gravitate towards you when first joining the team, and after saving each other’s asses on multiple occasions, he knew you were someone he could entrust with his life. You tore down his walls with ease, you brought out the best in him, and he’d forever be indebted to you for your friendship.

You decide with Steve that the best course of action is to spend one-on-one time with each Bucky you cross paths with to detect any abnormalities in their behavior. The Captain makes it abundantly clear that you cannot let them cloud your judgement with pleasantries, and it’s pertinent you trust your gut with each decision you make. The pressure is on, and you feel the nerves settling in your gut as you approach the Bucky that has made himself at home in the communal kitchen.

“Hey, stranger,” you call gently, a pleasant smile on your face as you seat yourself at the island counter. You note with interest how the man visibly relaxes at your presence and sets aside the pot of tea he’d just finished brewing. His eyes are bright like your Bucky’s, full of adoration and relief when he sets them upon your face.

“Y/n,” he breathes out gently before coming to meet you at the counter, “you have no idea how glad I am to see you, doll.”

“Rough day?” You prompt understandingly.

“Where do I even begin? Being around so many versions of myself is more unsettling than I ever could have imagined.”

“Well, Steve and I are doing our best to fix that,” you assure him. You watch as the man turns back to his pot of tea and begins to pour you both a cup. There’s nothing unusual about this considering your Bucky also enjoys drinking tea; it helps him keep calm and relaxed before retiring for the night.

“How many are left?” He asks before handing you your mug.

“Around ten. Steve and I are making our rounds to figure out which Bucky is ours.”

“Am I your Bucky?” The man prompts with a raised brow while taking a careful drink from his cup.

“You tell me,” you reply with a faint smile, ignoring the way your heart begins to flutter when he refers to himself as ‘your Bucky.’

“I know you have a scar on your stomach from being stabbed by another Widow in the Red Room, and the reason I know that is because I accidentally walked in on you changing in the shower room once,” Bucky admits with a sheepish laugh, prompting your face to heat with embarrassment.

“God, don’t remind me,” you groan while hiding your face in your hands. It’s not exactly comforting to know that Bucky has accidentally seen you naked in at least two different universes, but it also doesn’t make it easier to determine if this man is an imposter.

“I know you like your tea with a tablespoon of honey,” he continues before gesturing to your cup. You hum thoughtfully and set the mug down before meeting his gaze.

“I do, and I know you only like chamomile tea,” you reply, prompting Bucky to stiffen in front of you as you look down at the mug in front of you. “But this is green tea.”

Sighing, the doppelgänger sets his cup down with a defeated frown before meeting your gaze with pleading eyes. “Don’t make me go back.”

“I’m sorry, but it has to be done. We can’t risk the effects that come with having two Bucky’s in one place.”

“Then can I ask you a favor?” The man says solemnly.

“Of course.”

“Before you send me back, can I… is it okay if I hug you?” He asks, catching you by surprise. Noting the confusion on your face, Bucky gives you a dejected smile that doesn’t reach his eyes before explaining, “We don’t talk anymore in my universe. I was an idiot, and you rightfully cut me out of your life. This is the first time in years you’ve looked at me with love and not utter disgust, and I just want to enjoy it a little longer before I have to leave.”

Your heart aches for this poor Bucky who very clearly misses you, or at least his version of you, so you can’t find it in yourself to deny his request. You wordlessly rise from your seat and allow him to wrap his arms around your frame. His hold is tight, his nose brushing against your neck as he savors the feel of your touch, and you feel terrible for the fact that there isn’t anything you can do to help him.

“I’m not sure what happened between the two of you,” you utter quietly while rubbing comforting circles into his back, “but if she’s anything like me, I know she probably misses you but is too stubborn to admit it. Don’t give up on her.”

You release him with a smile and find his eyes shining with tears as he lets your words settle. You bid him a final goodbye before escorting him to Tony and Bruce so that he can be properly transferred back to his own time. That’s only one Bucky down with several more to go, and you know now that you really have your work cut out for you. This is going to be much more difficult than you anticipated.

You stumble upon the next Bucky quietly ruminating in your room, and it takes him a moment to detect your presence as you lean against the doorway and simply observe his mannerisms. You can already tell this isn’t your Bucky by the way he anxiously taps his fingers against his knees; your Bucky’s tell is the anxious bouncing of his leg. This Bucky also wears his hair pulled back into a ponytail, whereas your Bucky prefers to tie his hair back into in a half-up style.

His eyes widen in shock when he finally notices you standing there, and you’re taken aback by the way he nearly flings himself at you. His strong arms wrap around your midsection and lift you off the ground, holding you impossibly tight against him as if you’ll disappear otherwise.

“жена,” he whispers in a trembling voice while combing a hand through your hair.

“I don’t speak Russian…” you voice with an uncomfortable laugh, struggling to take a breath due to how tightly you’re pressed against him. “Buck, you’re kind of suffocating me here.”

The man finally releases you after your admission, but his hands immediately find their way to your cheeks as he cups your face and rests his forehead against your own. You’re startled by the closeness, but there’s no denying the rapid beating of your heart when you stare into his troubled eyes. You’ve had daydreams like this before, but it’s jarring to experience it in person.

“When I arrived here and came across your room I thought it was too good to be true,” he utters shakily, “but you’re here. You’re alive.”

“Bucky, I-“

“You’ve come back to me, жена.”

“жена?” You repeat unsurely. His panicked features melt into a fond smile at the sound of your botched Russian, and he carefully pushes back your hair before gifting you a nod of confirmation.

“Wife.”

Your eyes widen at his proclamation, your heart dropping to your chest while you process the weight of his words and struggle with the turmoil inside of you. You thought dealing with the Bucky from the kitchen was difficult, but this is way out of your playing field.

“Oh god,” you breathe out before carefully removing his hands from your face. He frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know this is all really confusing, but I’m not…” you start to say, grappling with your guilt at having to crush the man’s hopes of being reunited with his version of you, “I’m not your wife.”

The man’s features become sullen at your confession, brows furrowing in disappointment and confusion. “What do you mean? You aren’t y/n?”

“I am, but I’m just not the same y/n you know. This is a different dimension, and you were sent here by accident.”

“So you’re not… she’s not really alive, then,” he murmurs dejectedly, eyes casting towards the floor in despair.

“No, and I’m so sorry I’m not the one you’re looking for,” you console, resting a comforting hand on his bicep. Bucky’s eyes flutter shut at the feel of your touch, something he’d been lacking since your death. You aren’t his wife, but in spite of that, he is grateful to be able to speak to you and see your face once more. “Can I ask what happened to her?”

“Hydra wanted revenge for my desertion and for aiding Captain America in their destruction,” Bucky utters lowly, eyes hardening at the memory. “An eye for an eye. She paid the price for my mistakes, and I’ve spent every waking moment avenging her death.”

A chill runs through your spine as you hear the recounting of your counterpart’s death, but you do your best to remain composed while in the presence of this alternate version Bucky. Your heart aches for the man, and you once again find yourself completely useless at trying to help him.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you express solemnly. Despite this, Bucky looks to you with a tender smile before carefully taking your hand in his own.

“Don’t be. I know you’re not her, but seeing you again, hearing your voice- It’s the most precious gift I could ask for. Thank you for giving me some semblance of peace.”

You’re a wreck when this Bucky is returned to his own timeline, and after multiple instances of running into Bucky’s who believe you’re their y/n Steve assures you that he’ll take over moving forward. It seems that each Bucky you speak to cares so fondly for you, they adore you even, and yet in this universe you’ve been designated as a close friend and nothing more. It’s killing you to see all the ‘what if’s,’ because deep inside you know that you’ll never be with your Bucky the way you want to.

You’re not sure when your crush on the super soldier had first developed, but you know that you’ve harbored these romantic feelings for him for quite a while now. You’ve never told anyone, though you can guess Steve was smart enough to figure it out on his own, and you have no urge to act on such feelings in fear of how complicated things will become if he doesn’t reciprocate your emotions.

Your rumination leaves you in deep thought as you sit out on the balcony and enjoy some quiet after all the chaos you’ve endured. You hear the sliding door open and shut behind you, but you make no attempt to see who it is until they seat themselves beside you. You peek at Bucky from the corner of your eyes before returning your gaze to the New York skyline, simply enjoying his presence without making an effort to speak.

“You doing okay?” He asks, effectively breaking the silence between you.

“I didn’t think being around multiple versions of you would be so exhausting,” you confess with a humorless laugh, but it prompts his lips to quirk up slightly into a smile.

“You’re starting to sound like Sam,” he teases with a careful nudge to your side. While you’d normally laugh at his jokes, Bucky doesn’t even get a smile out of you. You feel him shift closer to you and hope he can’t detect the way your heart picks up a beat in response. He nudges you again softer this time and asks, “Talk to me. What’s eating you?”

“Every Bucky variant I met today looked at me like I moved heaven and earth together, like I was their reason for getting up in the morning, and I guess it just reminded me of the fact that my own Bucky doesn’t really look at me that way.”

You pull your knees up to your chest and let your chin fall on top of them with a melancholic sigh. A part of you feels embarrassed to be voicing your disappointment aloud, but you figure there’s no harm in telling a variant since you’ll never have to see them again after today.

“Do you want him to look at you that way?”

“Of course I do,” you avow incredulously like the answer isn’t already obvious. “I love him so much that Steve trusted my judgement enough to have me help him sniff out the doppelgängers. I know how he likes his tea, how he does his hair, what his favorite movie is- the list could go on forever. But of course, I live in the one universe where Bucky and I don’t end up together.”

You feel his hand come to rest on the small of your back and shudder at the feel of his cool metal hand seeping through your sweater. You can’t help but to lean against him so that your head is rested on his shoulder, and you’re able to find some comfort in his presence. You hear him let out a thoughtful hum beside you.

“You want to know something?” Bucky pronounces. He feels your head nod against him and smiles. “I know the exact moment I fell in love with you.”

The confession has you lifting your head to peer up at him questioningly. “You do?”

“Of course I do. We were on a mission, and you picked up Steve’s shield to stop a bullet from hitting me straight on before using it to knock out three bad guys in a row. You looked so strong, so beautiful. My heart was yours from then on.”

“I didn’t think you remembered that,” you confess quietly, stomach fluttering with nervous butterflies.

“Haven’t stopped thinking about it since,” he asserts with a fond smile. “Any Bucky would be lucky to have you, and I’m sorry yours has been too chicken to make a move.”

“I guess it’s not totally his fault,” you relent with a meager shrug. “I’m chicken, too.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Bucky suggests, tone light and inviting. “I know I’m not the most obvious about it, but I love you too.”

You open your mouth to answer only to be interrupted by the sound of the sliding door again. You turn to see Steve standing there, surprise on his features when he sees you two sitting on the balcony together.

“Y/n, I’ve been looking for you,” he says suddenly. “I wanted to talk to you about the variants-“

“Don’t worry,” you interrupt him with a passive wave of your hand before gesturing towards Bucky with your head. “I found another one for you. This Bucky just told me he loves me which means he’s definitely not ours.”

“Actually,” Steve says with an amused grin, “I was just coming to tell you we sent the last of them back to their own dimensions.”

“What?” You gape in shock, heart immediately dropping to your stomach as you slowly shift your gaze towards the Bucky sitting next to you. He flashes you a bashful smile and a small wave that fills you with embarrassment.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” the blond says with a knowing smile before making his exit, leaving you alone once more with the man you’d just poured your entire heart out to.

“I thought you knew,” Bucky offers apologetically. You take a nervous swallow before forcing yourself to meet his gaze again.

“So you’re saying that you do love me?” You ask hesitantly, almost afraid that this is all some sort of joke.

“I may not be as romantic or straightforward as the other Bucky’s you met, but I love you just as much as they do if not more,” he professes earnestly, gently resting a hand on your cheek to pull you closer. “I think we make a great team, but we’d make an even better couple.”

“I think so too,” you utter with a giddy smile, waiting with bated breath as Bucky slowly begins to lean in. The anticipation is killing you, but you’re finally rewarded for your patience when his lips meet your own in a tender kiss. Your lashes flutter shut as you melt into his touch, reveling in the moment you’ve dreamed of since discovering your feelings for Bucky.

No matter the timeline and no matter the universe, Bucky is destined to fall in love with his y/n. And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[valar-did-me-wrong]

me but with vaccines & modern medicine

in theory i would love to live in middle earth. in practice i'm concerned that elrond might not know what guacamole is and i don't know if i can live like that

[tammyu-2]

Can we get the rottmnt boys (separate) being proposed to by S/o? (They say yes) S/o was acting distant for a while, working late, but was really getting them a ring to fit their huge fingers lol

Ooo this is sorta creative

ROTTMNT MARRIED TO THEIR S/O BUT THEIR S/O STARTS ACTING DISTANT

Swearing, no pronouns used, not proofread, flufffff

Let's get into it yar

LEO

Leo is a very over dramatic jump to conclusions type bf so the mere SECOND your distant for 12 hours he will think you hate him.

Now let's go back a bit. Back when you and Leo first started dating you were going through a rough patch and Leo always knew how to cheer you up in your darkest days. He always gave you the attention you though you didn't deserve and he lifted your spirit as a person. You felt forever indebted to him the way he treats you like his princess. And you've loved him ever since.

With Leo your life got fixed and it felt way more better and freeing (minus the acasional kidnapping from a villian but that's like every 2 weeks now). You has more energy and you genuinely felt happier with Leo as your boyfriend. Therefore you decided after a year or more you wanted to officially tie the note. With Leo.

Never thought I'd see that day coming

But you were nervous. I mean Leo is the type to not even be bound to labels and what if he feels like marriage isn't meant for him?? I mean it's a big step of commitment and no offense on him but the only thing he ever committed on in like (or than your relationship) was the tela Novela he has been watching since he was a baby.

But you pushed aside your doubts and decided to go for it. However due to him being a turtle mutant obviously it would be hard to find a ring that will fit or a jewelry shop that won't question. So you started skipping you hangouts with him on the account of your searching far and wide.

Leo was DISTRAUGHT! I mean the love of his life, his soul, his trust, his sun and his vida had betrayed him by canceling on him MORE THAN ONCE! I mean just say you hate him.

So one day, when you had finally gotten the ring but decided to wait till you had a plan on how you were gonna ask him, he decided he would confront you.

So you when to visit him and his brothers and went into his room only to be greeted by a pointed finger.

"YOU!"

"...me?"

"Do you hate me or something!?"

"Leon what the hell are you talking about."

"Your cheating on me! Who is it huh!? HUH!?"

"No??"

"Oh you must of fallen out of love with me!?-"

"Babe get to the point please."

"You have been neglecting me. Running off to go do whatever and blowing me off!! And not to mention you have been typing non stop on your laptop when I'm over for your stupid 'research project' WELL I DONT BUY IT WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!?"

"Leo..oh my dear Leon I can't tell you."

"Then I don't know why are we doing this."

"...are you crying? Oh my gosh babe no it's okay-"

"YOU DONT CARE ABOUT MEE"

I could continue but let's be honest it will go on for half an hour so let's just skip this hit because Leo has always been suck a drama queen.

"Okay can you step back a bit"

"What will that do-"

"JUST. do it please."

He steps back as you take a breath before kneeling down on one knee. Leo is utterly confused by now. Then you pull out a beautiful ring and suddenly he is dreaming cause there is no way your doing this right?

"Leon you have brought sunshine to my darkest days and you've stayed when I felt my world had left me. You sat by my side and made sure that even when I thought it was impossible you made me feel joy. There is no better person that I would love asking this to. Leonardo Hamato will you marry me?"

"Are you actually doing this is this actually happening!?"

"It's very real babe."

"Oh my gosh fuck yes!! I'd love to marry you!!!!"

After a very very tight hug and a tender kiss you two laugh at how stupid Leo had been. He couldn't believe that you actually asked him to marry you before he could mostly. But in the end he was just glad you hadn't actually cheated on him.

DONNIE

This is Dontron we are talking about HOW can you possibly keep a secret from him at all. He can hack into anything including your search history or track your phone to see where you go if it's really really important. HOW could you possibly pull this off? Easy. Ask a friend in a sound proof room with no electronics in it.

So you had done just that. Your friend being the kind and generous soul they were decided to help you. So every So often they would come back to you will research they had gathered on rings and sizes and stuff. And you almost got busted one time by him.

"Why were you measuring me in the middle of the night during out sleep over last Tuesday? Specially at 3:45."

"I had a hubba Bubba gum string and wanted to see how many I can wrap around you to make you a giant bubble gum mummy."

"You know you could have just asked me to calculate that instead of just doing it at 3am?"

"Whats the fun in that?"

Not only did you lie out your ass but you made it damn good realistic ish. And he believed it. Mostly because he was half playing a game on his phone but you still managed to get past the Donnie lie detectors.

But ofcourse since he is a mutant with strange hands it was getting harder and harder to find a ring for him. So you had to meet up with your friend more than preferred. And enough that Donnie notices.

First thing he does? Detective research. He searches at where you go to and finds out You've been going your friends house alot more than normal. Especially since you two only ever talk in your friends sound proof studio room. So he can't hear shit because his sound proof breaker had been borrowed and broken by Leo the other week so he was left up to his genius imagination.

So once you got the ring you visited him very veery happy because you wanted to get the lies out of the way immediately knowing Donnie would find out in a matter of time.

"Heyyy Dontron."

"Greetings my not so lovely s/o"

"What do you mean 'not-so-lovely'"

"You don't think I know your hiding something from me?"

Oh your fucked. Your screwed.

"Okay Donnie before you gon on your normal tangent I have something for you that will explain everything!"

"SIGH. Go on.."

You cleared your through and got down and one knee and pushed forward the ring you had bought for him.

"I know your not one for big boring speeches and I also know you like to cut to the chase of things so I'm just gonna say it. Donetello Hamato will you Marry me?"

"Okay."

"YIPPEEEE"

RAPH

You see raph is clueless when it comes to things so hiding a secret proposal from him was pretty easy. You know what wasn't easy? Finding a fitting ring for his big mutated turtle finger. It was HARD. Anything that was close to the side was sold out for inappropriate use. And the rest were WAY out of your price range so you were running a bit low on chance.

So you decided on one however you had no money for it so he took the initiative to bust your ass till you finally got enough for it. You worked day in and day out, taking longer shifts, you did some side gigs and did weekend jobs. You were working and working on the clock that you accidentally forgot your darling boyfriend Raph.

He had been noticing you had been not really cold but more exhausted and closed off. You seem to be tired and you barely ever have time for him which hurts alot if he's honest. Your always busy even in the late hours for work but he knows for a fact that you never work that late. So he began to get paranoid. Especially since he wanted to surprise you with something special he knew you would have liked.

So after weeks of miscommunication and work you finally had enough and more for the ring for Raph. So you decided to treat him to a rooftop picnic as an apology. He accepted it ofcourse and you two just sat on a random apartment building just star gazing and eating pizza. That's when you released his arm from your shoulder and stepped back making him look at you in confusion.

You step back and get on one knee bringing his ring from behind your back.

"Raph I have a very imp-"

"WAIT! Before you do there something you should know."

He shyly pulls out a gorgeous ring for you. Oh my god he was going to propose to you aswell.

"Oh raph...you shouldn't have."

"Uh Raph has been planing this for a while but everytime Raph gets a bit nervous."

"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about now because I guess we both accept. So Raph will you marry me?"

"Only if you would marry me"

"I do"

"I do too"

MIKEY

This poor baby boy is easy to hid things from. Like you could hid a rubber duck from him just by putting it on his head and he wouldn't know a thing. So when you decide to marry him because he had always been there for you. He was the reason you woke up every morning a trudged through the stinky sewer. It was all just to see him face lighten up with joy whenever he spotted you.

So you immediately thought of marrying him after 2 years of bliss. And so due to him kor being a human it took you quite a while. But due to his cluelessness you don't really try that hard to hide it. You just research when your in your house.

However it took you longer than you liked to find not only the perfect size but also the perfect design for your artist boyfriend. So you searched far and wider you took trains after trains to travel to different jewelry stores to find the perfect ring for Mikey because he deserves a proper ring.

However against your better judgement you had no choice but to put your focus on the ring rather than your Mikey. And although he might not be that good at catching onto things he would notice your not as close with him as you were. And it just made him sad that he thought his favorite person hated him.

So one day as you two finally get some alone time as he is painting a wall you decided now is the perfect chance to do it cause you hated lying to Mikey even if it was easy to get away with.

So as he had his back turned, you had gotten on one knee and held his ring out.

"You think that dot of red- OH MY GOSH!!"

"Michelangelo Hamato will you-"

"YES YES YES YES A MILLIONS TIMES YES!!!!"

"I didn't even-"

You were engulfed in a suffocating hug but honestly you didn't care as you hugged back your now fiancé.

Hope that was good and I realise know I accidentally skipped a req whoospie sorry diff req I'll do it eventually.

But I hope you enjoyed and don't be shy to request something from me and my diff fandoms. Just know that I will get to them when I can.

Stay healthy and stay safe!!!!

~Tammy<3

[nicksolemnlyswears]

CAPABLE HANDS

summary: marcus acacius is tired of his hands only bringing pain and destruction

pairing: marcus acacius x wife!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: i don’t think there’s any warning on this one guys. i kept it very pg-13. there’s like one mention of sex but blink and you’ll miss it.

a/n: hello everybody!! so my great friend kiwi ( @yxtkiwiyxt ), aka the biggest javi fan ever, created the 'never have i ever' challenge for the pedro pascal fandom way back in january and i decided to give it a little try. it's such a fun challenge, so if you're a fan of pedro pascal's characters hop on over to her blog and you'll be fed for a while.

in true nikki fashion, i'm very late but she thankfully extended it.

as you can probably tell i got marcus acacius because that man is just straight out of my fantasies and my prompt was 'never have i ever built something with my own hands'.

this came to me so fast. the moment she gave me the prompt i just knew! that being said it did take me like one month too long to finish it (again bad nikki habits).

my sincerest apologies empress kiwi 🥺 hopefully this is to your liking.

enjoy 🤍

His hands were made for war—for fighting, for holding a sword and not letting go until his arms felt like lead and the enemy was taken care of.

They're full of callouses and wounds that'll never heal. Scars that remind him of the person he is. General Marcus Acacius.

Despite the current leadership, he loved serving Rome. He was indebted to Rome. It is his home, and it forever will be.

He was proud of his achievements. He's come farther than he ever imagined, yet as the years go by, he can't help but feel that seed of guilt in the root of his stomach sprout bigger with each passing battle.

There comes a point where he cannot justify the cruelty and viciousness with which they fight.

They tear families apart, kill brave men defending their own homes, burn villages to the ground, and loot in the name of Rome.

For what?

More power, more riches, more glory—all while the country grows impoverished and hunger takes its claim on those less fortunate.

He yearns to return to glorious Rome. Beautiful Rome with marble pillars and vivid sceneries. The place where his lovely wife, you, waits for him after each conquest.

General Acacius yearns to forget.

You're the one who reminds him his hands are capable of more. They are gentle when he holds you. When he grabs onto your hips until you're spilling over him.

They're the ones you hold as you stroll in the gardens. Or when you insist on heading to the market despite your status.

They are soft, patient, encouraging.

His hands that tuck your hair behind your ear when a rebellious curly strand tickles your face.

And yet he always falls into that deep despair. Nights when he can't sleep, thinking of all the damage he's done to innocent people. He did it willingly at one point, chasing that infamous glory where Gladiator games would be held in his honor upon returning to battle.

Now, that glory mocks him. It's a mirage in the desert. Beautiful from afar but bitter up close.

He's selfish. Marcus Acacius could stop, but it would mean his death. He can deal with death, but he will not be the cause of yours.

So, as he untangles himself from your arms, Marcus goes outside to sit and watch over the city, vigilant. He remembers the market and the artisans building beautiful things with their hands—hands calloused and scarred from their skill, not weapons and death.

They say life mimics art.

He wishes to use his hands for more than striking. He wants to see his hands as more capable like you do.

His greatest skill, besides being a swordsman, is being observant. What makes General Acacius great is the way he's able to analyze a situation and strike at the weakest point. The next time you drag him to the market, he watches over the artisans, the tools they use, and their creations.

"Is anything the matter, husband?" You ask, grasping his arm. You don't miss the way he stares at the knife in the artisan's hand, and you worry.

Your husband doesn't like it much when you come to the market. He doesn't believe it to be entirely safe for a woman of your standing. Still, your beloved Marcus spoils you and lets you come. Accompanied by him, of course, and guards when he is not able to join you.

His focus shifts from the skillful shaping of the block of wood to you. He softly smiles, pressing his hand upon yours. "Are you ready?"

You nod with a smile, chattering about the fresh fruit you picked and the pastries you'll ask the cooks to bake for you. Woefully unaware of your husband's purchases.

That same night, when the same old nightmare wakes him, Marcus untangles himself from your limbs and sneaks away to a bench in the gardens. Under the stars, he looks at the block of wood in his left hand and the sculpting knife in his right.

As the knife starts to chip away at the wood, the more he distracts his mind from his duty as a General. In a way, he turns mindless, focusing on the rough edges and the splinters, successfully filling his hands with new creative wounds.

At first, you're blissfully unaware since Marcus always returns to your side before you wake. Then, wooden figures start being placed by your bedside, with rough initials scratched on the bottom.

Your dear husband never cared to mention his new hobby or the fact he was gifting you his work. It was unspoken. You cherish each one of his small sculptures, saving them and leaving them on display.

With each one, he only got better and better. Pride swelled on your chest as you witnessed his artistry grow.

It is refreshing to see him work through his worry with art instead of violence. You, more than anyone, know what ails him when he returns home fresh with new wounds.

There is no war raging around him, yet it remains in his mind. The Gladiator games do not entertain him as they do the rest of the Romans. He's forced to sit and watch the strongest prisoners fight all over again, killing what remains of his conquests.

His reluctance to go to the markets fades away. Marcus Acacius joins you a bit too eagerly, looking for a moment to observe the artisans and the skills they implement.

You take your time, inspecting each fruit and vegetable you have in your hands. Simply to give him more time.

The more he joins you, the more they notice him watching. A quiet, old artisan going as far as beckoning Marcus to come closer and ask the questions on the tip of his tongue.

"Are you ready?" You ask when there is no more to do, joining his side.

"If you are done, yes," he says aloof, leaving coin to the artisan who taught him a few things.

You smile, resisting the urge to giggle. Your big, strong husband avoids talking about what he finds enjoyable.

Warriors are not often seen as artists.

One night, you wake and find him missing from the bed. His spot is cold and empty; he's been gone a while. Unable to sleep, knowing he is awake, you search for him, a shawl wrapped around your shoulders to avoid the chill of the night.

A torch is lit in the garden, and you follow it like a moth to a flame. That's where your husband sits on a bench, knife in hand, and wood scrapings littering the trimmed grass.

"I was wondering where you found the time," you say, shuffling closer and sitting beside him. Shoulders brushing comfortably.

Marcus' head turns towards you, red dusting his tanned cheeks. "I can't sleep," he admits.

"Is it the nightmares?"

He nods, carving smaller details onto the wood, giving it a recognizable shape. His hands have new calluses from gripping the wood and the knife's differently shaped handle.

"You've become quite the woodcarver," you say, changing the subject he does not like talking about.

You won't push him. He has enough in his mind. You're thankful he's not like the other Generals who find distractions at the brothels.

"I've got a long way to go," he responds, turning the wood figure in his hands to assess it.

"Not tonight, though," you tell him, placing your hand over his. "You must join me in bed. It's far too cold without you."

Marcus Acacius softly smiles at you, nodding before placing the wooden figure and knife down. "Whatever my lady wife says."

This small habit of leaving the bed in the middle of the night does not cease. His hands itch to do something, to create, and he listens.

In the end, you're happy if he's happy. You let him be, sometimes dragging him back to bed when you need him most.

At times, you join him, curling next to him, eyes drooping but refusing to leave him. The movement of his hard muscles lulls you to sleep as he works at shaping the pieces of wood.

"There are far more comfortable places to rest, my wife," Marcus says, the low timbre of his voice rousing you from the sleep that threatens to take you under.

"The best place to be is by my husband's side," you sigh, getting more comfortable and ignoring his request. "If you wish me abed, you have to be there."

The time comes when the emperor twins become restless and order him to conquer in their stead. It is time to sully his hands once more with the blood of warriors protecting their home.

With one last wooden figure placed beside your bed and a kiss on your head, he leaves fearfully, wondering if this would be the one time he won't return.

You clutch the figure day in and day out, afraid if you let it out of your sight, bad news will arrive. You press your lips against the smooth surface when you miss him most, bringing it to your chest as if you could feel him close by the simple action.

In his absence, you learn you have been blessed by the gods and are expecting a child. More than ever, do you wish for your husband's safe return.

Many months after his departure, news of the battalion's return spread across Rome in a matter of hours. Your lady-in-waiting heard it from the servants who had gone to the market earlier in the day.

"My lady, your General has returned," she whispers excitedly, helping you get ready for the day.

"Are you sure?" You gasp, clutching your rounded belly in anticipation. Many months have gone by, and you did not think he'd make it for the birth.

The fact that no soldiers come to your door is reassuring. Your husband may be injured but not dead, and that is enough.

"He's been sighted joining the Emperors."

He comes like a breeze in the night, quiet and stealthy. With no need of unnecessary fanfare, he only wished to see you.

Marcus Acacius needed your reassurance once more. That his hands were not to be stained permanently.

He finds you by the fountain, looking as beautiful as ever. Hair curled and loose, front strands pulled back but with that stubborn fringe that refused to be held back. Such a reflection of your being.

A cloak hung around your shoulders, hiding your most precious treasure unbeknownst to him.

"My lady," he calls out, standing a few feet from you.

You look up from the pond of swimming fish, eyes round with surprise and excitement. "Marcus Acacius," you gasp.

He's back home. New scars, healed and unhealed, litter his tanned skin. His hair longer, pushed away from his eyes. He is safe, and he is sound.

You stand to approach him and greet him properly. Your feet drive you forward, and the movement pushes the cloak back, exposing your round belly.

He's always been so observant. It would be hard to miss.

Your arms curl around his neck, bringing him into an embrace. You thank the gods above for his safe return.

Acacius is frozen as his mind catches up with what he's seen. Such a reaction would get him killed in battle. You cup his face while pulling back, "Husband?" The tickle from the scruff on his cheeks is a comfort.

He's not in battle. Marcus is home with you.

His palms softly come to your belly. He's gentle, extremely so. "You're with child?"

"Yes," you say breathlessly, awaiting his reaction.

"You're carrying our child?" His voice is thick with emotion. Unshed tears fill his eyes as Marcus kneels on the ground, palms feeling the soft kick of his unborn child.

He only ever wished to have children with you so they'd take after their mother. It's been in the back of both of your minds, but his role as a General often took precedence.

"I only found out once you left," you confess, placing your hands over his. "Are you happy?"

"This is the happiest I've ever been," he says, standing to finally place his lips upon yours. There's a grunt in the back of his throat as he pulls you close or as close as your belly would permit. "You've made me the happiest man in the world, my wife."

General Marcus Acacius has a new purpose in life. He is becoming a father of a baby boy or baby girl. Nonetheless, he wishes to leave war far behind.

He needs to be in Rome to watch them grow and become noble people. He does not want to leave for months or years at a time, and he does not want them to see him in deep despair when he returns from such physical and mental battles.

Whenever he returns from war, the nightmares become more vivid, keeping him awake. His hands itch to create and to distract his busy brain.

This time, it is no exception.

Untangling himself from your tight hold, Marcus Acacius walks to the gardens. Picking up his woodcarving tools along the way. His hands itch for a new project, and what better project than building his child's crib.

sorry it wasn't very romancy, i really focused on general marcus acacius inner turmoil, don't we love a troubled man?

[portagas-chan]

Run, But You Can’t Hide Forever

Yandere Silvers Rayleigh x F!Reader

You had finally managed to escape from Rayleigh, but a few months later, he finally caught you.

You were breathing heavily, trying to run as fast as your legs would carry you. Tears streamed down your cheeks as your body shook uncontrollably from fear.

You just needed to reach the port. If you could make it there, you could escape from that man.

That man was none other than Silvers Rayleigh.

You had once been captured and nearly sold into slavery if it weren’t for that old man who saved you. You needed a place to stay for a while, and he was kind enough to offer you his home. You felt indebted to him and were truly grateful.

When it was finally time to leave the island, you said your goodbyes, but he held you back.

He wouldn’t let you go.

"Leaving already? If you leave, this old man will be lonely."

At first, you thought he was just joking and laughed it off, but his hand never left your wrist. In fact, his grip tightened, and you were sure it was going to leave bruises.

It did.

If you hadn’t reassured him and lied, telling him you’d stay—if you’d let him hold your wrist just a little longer—you were sure it would have been broken.

So, you stayed a little longer.

You waited and waited for him to either let you leave or at least bring it up. But he never did.

That’s when you realized: he had no intention of letting you leave. It was never going to happen.

So, you played along, pretending to be in love with him, just as he was with you, all while planning your escape. Once his guard was down, you would take your chance and run.

And you did.

You managed to hide on a small island for a few months, but what you didn’t know was that Rayleigh was going absolutely ballistic trying to find you.

He was like a madman, relentless in his search. He would go to the ends of the Earth to find you.

He would never stop.

He needed you in his life. The One Piece? He didn’t need that. Money? He didn’t care. Fame? Power?

None of it could satisfy him. Only you.

And he finally found you.

You couldn’t believe it. He had burned the entire island down to find you. All those innocent people who had been nothing but kind to you—now lost, their lives tragically taken.

And it was all because of you. All because they got involved with you.

No.

It was his fault. His fault for being obsessively fixated on you. Why? You didn’t even know why he was like this or how it even started. You just wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

Far, far away.

You froze when you heard your name called by a familiar voice. All your hopes were crushed in an instant. He’d caught up to you.

"Rayleigh," your voice trembled as all the strength left your legs.

He crouched down to your level, his cold eyes meeting yours. "Sweetheart, you really broke my heart."

"I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice barely a whisper.

"What?" He leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving yours. He heard you, but he needed you to say it like you meant it.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, your eyes averted as you sobbed.

Rayleigh sighed, grabbing your hair roughly to make you look at him as you winced in pain. "Did you lose your voice? I haven’t done anything to you yet."

Your body trembled as your eyes widened in fear. "I’m really sorry. I won’t do it again."

“You don’t get it, do you?” Rayleigh murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. “You think saying sorry will fix everything? You can run. You can hide. But I will always find you. I always will.” His voice lowered dangerously.

“And when I do there will always be consequences.”

You were terrified and you could tell that he was very pissed too no matter how hard he tried to hide it. You knew he wasn’t going to easily let you off the hook this time.

Rayleigh swiftly picked you up in his arms as he carried you back to his boat.

"You’re mine. Always have been. Always will be. You just… forgot, didn’t you?" He whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His eyes bore into yours, full of tenderness, but with an edge of insanity lurking beneath. "But don't worry, I’ll remind you. I’ll remind you until it’s impossible for you to think of anyone else."

The boat rocked slightly as he gently set you down beside him, tying the ropes around your hands and your legs. "You’ll learn to love me again. It’s not a matter of choice anymore. It's fate."

A small, cruel smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve been patient, haven’t I? But patience has its limits. And trust me, darling, I’m about to test yours."

[biteyoubiteme]

Omg congrats on 1k!!!

Soobin in the killa and gbgb performances have been killing me lately.. 🫠🫠 can i request a fic where reader goes down on him after his performance for either of these songs? Seriously never wanted to drop to my knees and suck a dick this badly in my life before this man 😵‍💫

baby, now, now, now, now

soobin x gn!reader

synopsis: he just looks too hot after a performance.

warnings: 🔞!!! oral (m!rec) prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1k

an: thank you so much! it was actually so hard to pick between gbgb and the killa for this lol but these photos spoke to me and picked themselves out. I go crazy watching these performances so I get you on a deeply personal and spiritual level okay and I rewatched the killas stage so many time to get inspo for this and omfg thank you for this ask I love watching that stage. but I hope you like this! not proofread forgive me sweet angel im forever indebted to you

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

It was not the first time you’ve seen the performance but it was the first time you’ve been there in person. This was entirely different from all the practices you’ve sat in on, every misstep followed by yeonjuns guidance, the soft laughs shared between the people in the room aiding the relaxed feel of the studio. 

But here, sitting in the little private suite overlooking the stage you’re at a loss for words. No one should look that hot on stage, not even your own boyfriend. Maybe it’s the lights that hit soobin just right, the way they keep catching his hair; shiny with sweat. The big screen zoomed into every detail, black tank top stuck to his skin, his bicep flexing just enough to make the wrap around his arm look as if it would pop off from the force. 

It’s enough to make the crowd go wild, the echoing cheers and screams louder than you imagined them. Every single one of them fawning over the way he looks, the way he moves, so in sync with yeonjun. It's almost impossible not to keep your eyes trained on soobins hips. Shirt cut just long enough to reach the waistband of his pants, just short enough so that every time he moved his arms or rolled his body it lifted up, exposing his midriff. Watching them dance during practice, Soobin was mostly dressed in sweats and a hoodie, unbothered by appearances when no one was around to see. Now here it's the opposite, your mouth watering at the way he's moving. 

You're familiar with the way his hips move without anyone around, here with everyone watching it only makes jealousy bubble up for a second. And when he stretches back, arms above his head, so much of his skin on display for the camera to catch. It was addicting to witness. 

When the two of you finally met backstage soobin couldn't tell if you were angry or tired. Never did he expect you to lead him over to the nearest dressing room, the lock twisted before you pushed him against the door. 

“I'm all sweaty,” he chuckles, hands instinctively on your body already, head rolling back as he lets you kiss up his neck. 

“I don't care,” you mutter, hand reaching down to palm him over his pants. 

It took very little for him to get hard when it came to you. Just knowing you were watching him set his nerves aflame, but he worked so well under the slight pressure. He knew what got to you, knew the possibility of this very thing happening now, he could scope your neediness as easily as he could his own, both of you tethered together in that department just fine. 

When you got down on your knees before him, fumbling with the button on his pants, he was whimpering, and already praying no one would walk past and hear him. The second you got your hands on him he was moaning in the back of his throat, pursing his lips as if that would help any with the sound. 

You don't even have to work to build up any spit, your mouth watering on its own just having his pretty cock in front of you. Your thumb rubbed over his slit, spreading the beading precum around his pink tip. “You looked so good out there,” you say in between kisses along his shaft, “performing so well I couldn't stop thinking about sucking you off,” 

You trace your fingertips across his veins, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath he takes. “You sounded so pretty on stage, will you make sure to let me hear you while I make you feel good?” 

He doesn't even get to finish his nod before your mouth is on him, so hot and wet he can't help the moan that leaves him. You hum in response, the vibration traveling up his spine and down his knees. He could buckle under the feeling alone, your free hand not circling what does not fit into your mouth is wrapped around his balls adding enough pressure to make him see stars. 

Reaching out to the door handle for leverage, he needs anything to keep himself up, his head rolling back as you try to take him deeper down your throat. Even just the wet sounds of your working mouth makes his thighs tremble. 

You move to pull away for only a second, enough so that you can go back to using both your hands when he pushes his hand into your hair. “No please don’t stop,” he whines pushing you back down onto his cock. You give a muffled yelp that has him moaning when he hits the back of your throat, so slick with your saliva he pumps in and out of your waiting mouth with ease. You don't even care about not breathing, on the cusp of just about to choke and pure bliss as he uses you. His hips work just as well as you knew they would, your hands wrapping around his thighs to help keep yourself still for him as he thrusts. 

He's a mess of whimpers as he feels his orgasm build, your nails digging into the fabric of his pants, “oh god- I’m about to cum- I’m- I’m cumming- I’m-” he lets your head go as he cums, body slumping against the door as his cock twitches on your tongue, mouth flooding with his release, the saltiness so familiar to you as you swallow.

When you pull away his cock is slick with your spit, rivulets still connecting you to him as you giggle. You give him a few loose tugs, his hips jerking back at the stimulation to his sensitive tip where you place light kisses. 

He reaches out to brush his thumb across your cheek, tracing it down to rub at your just fucked red lips. “You're so good to me, what did I ever do to deserve this mouth?”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! also a little thank you to @beomiracles for looking at this and not letting me set myself on fire over it