#it was nice to refresh this because i did it a while back so now i have more solid headcanons so i love this!!!

[new-revenant]

Alright! Time to share all of what I have of the 4th chapter. It’s not much, but hey, it’s something. Here is the Ao3 link to the other 3 chapters. And unfortunately, the story is on indefinite hiatus because I just. Couldn’t do it ha, got overwhelmed and majorly burnt out. Anyhow, hope you enjoy what I do have. 872 words.

Edit: Opps! Forgot to tag you haha @bianca-hooks123

When Danny woke up, he was surprised at how refreshed he felt. He really hasn’t a good night’s sleep in a while, huh. His body didn’t ache, his left arm finally felt normal, and the bruises he had were gone. If not for still being trapped in his ghost form, he would’ve been having the time of his life!

As he sat up, Danny noticed that his tray of food was unfortunately gone. But, he now had a new tray of food, breakfast edition! It still had the same mix of human and Tamaranean on it, which was nice. His water bottle was refilled, accompanied by a cup of strawberry milk right next to it.

Danny quickly set out to eat all of the food, like eating the dry cereal and then drinking the entirety of the milk right after, as God intended. He didn’t eat as fast as he did last night-er, before he fell asleep. He honestly had no idea what time it was, and couldn’t see a clock nearby. A clock.

Clockwork.

Danny had to stop eating for a moment, trying to calm down the rage that was beginning to simmer. It’ll all be fine, everything back home would be fine, he just needs to pass whatever this test is and punch Clockwork in the face, then he’d be good to go. But what about this universe? Would he be able to go back here? Would he need to? Would he want to?

Danny shook his head, “No time to worry about that,” he muttered to himself, “Just eat your food, and read this note you just noticed was here.”

Danny picked up the note that he must’ve missed because he was too focused on the food. It was not written in English, or had any letters he was familiar with, and he was pretty sure spoken English here was the same as it was in his universe. It was most likely in one of the written languages of Tamaraneans, since everyone-expect Batman-thought he was a Tamaranean.

Danny flipped the note around, hoping for an English translation. The back of the note had more writing, but it was still in Tamaranean. Well that sucked. Now he has to find someone to read the note, and considering the note’s in Tamaranean, it was probably from either Starfire or Nightwing, maybe saying that they were off doing stuff. Even if Danny couldn’t read it, he did have a half-decent intuition!

With a sigh, Danny put the note back down and decided to finish his breakfast. It was so good, definitely better than anything his parents cooked for him. Who would definitely be okay if Nocturn was to be believed. Wait, was Nocturn telling the truth? Danny shook his head again, he had to believe Nocturn, for the sake of his own sanity.

Once Danny finished his food, he got out of the bed, and looked around the infirmary. He noticed three things; one, there was a clock in here and showed that it was 3 o’clock-whether it was AM or PM he didn’t know, two, someone else was in infirmary, and three, there was a box right in front of his bed.

First things first, the person in the bed was someone he hasn’t seen yet, with white, giant wings on their back. They looked they were in pain and was hooked up to something. They were already awake and was looking over at Danny.

“Ah, hello there kid,” they said with a small wave, “I’m Hawkgirl, glad you’re feeling better. Heard you weren’t in such a good state when you came in here.”

“Well, this is the infirmary,” Danny joked, “But I think I just used up too much energy.”

“Didn’t you also fall hundreds of feet from the sky?”

“Wow news spreads fast here huh? I healed pretty quickly from that though.”

“If you count being asleep for two days fast, then yes, you have.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been asleep for how many days?” Danny couldn’t believe it, two days? That means he’s already been gone for…two minutes back home so he probably didn’t need to worry about that.

“You’ve been asleep for two days,” Hawkgirl’s voice held a pinch of sadness as she spoke, “I wish I could convert Earth days to Tamaranean days, but I don’t know the conversion rate. Starfire might, but she’s on-world right now.”

“It’s okay. Also do you um, know how to read this?” Danny showed her his note, “I can’t read.”

Hawkgirl inhaled sharply, with Danny already knowing what she was going to say and he groaned.

“Yeah yeah you don’t know either, it’s fine,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose, “Uh, newtopicnewtopic…how are you doing? Got injured in a fight?”

“Unfortunately, yes, I have,” Hawkgirl sighed, “This strange, ghost-like creature managed to mess up some of my internal-“

“Wait a minute, er-sorry for interrupting you but did you say ghost? Like the see-through dead guys?”

“I’m unsure, Batman is looking into it. Oh, and he left that box of clothes for you not too long ago.”

“Ah, that’s what the box was for. Well, I’m going to wander around this spaceship-thing until I find a place to change.”

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #ask game #revenant rambles #i still feel bad for not continuing this. But then I remember I am one person with my own life to live and feel a bit better #Danny was going to be wearing an oversized Batman hoodie btw. And in this chapter he was going to hang with Flash and Plasticman #I didn’t remember the part about the ghosts tho. Forgot where I was going with that haha

[reivontulet-arch]

let's   do   a   weird   headcanon   thing .

WHAT  THEY  SMELL  LIKE :   rory almost always has some form of coffee scent clinging to her, a sweet & spice of cinnamon and nutmeg along with the warmth of coffee beans. her favorite body cream smells like the ocean, in the morning when the air is clear and the wind picks up with the a salty smell tinged with a fresh scent of morning dew. like her style, her perfume is understated but noticeable. everything about the way rory smells exudes warmth and inviting-ness, so her perfume reflects that. some powdery, floral scent, a mixture of  lily of the valley and sandalwood cover up the scent of antiseptic and latex gloves, nicotine and tobacco on her fingers.

HOW  THEY  SLEEP  ( sleeping  position ,  schedule ,  etc ) :  rory sleeps curled up on her side, knees tucked close to her chest. usually, she’s hugging a pillow close to her chest, while the other keeps the sheets wrapped tightly around her, in the middle of the bed. when the weather is warm she only sleeps in a loose shirt and underwear, but when it’s cold she probably layers up underneath a heavy blanket because rory can’t stand the cold and her apartment doesn’t have good heating. due to the nature of her job ( most of her jobs across the verses ) , rory sleeps when she needs to, and usually catches around 4-5 hours, if she’s lucky. she doesn’t get a lot of nightmares but when she’s anxious she does wind up falling asleep late and waking up the same time she does. her constant caffeine intake also contributes to a diminishing sleep quality. she’s a morning person, and likes to be up before the sun is out, so it works out for her. 

WHAT  MUSIC  THEY  ENJOY :    rory likes a lot of folksy and acoustic music, but also a lot of show tunes and musicals as well. she has the vocal range so if she can sing it and sound good in it she probably likes it. there are definitely a few guilty pleasure out of usual genre favourites here and there but most music is usually mostly background noise or part of a running playlist to fill the silence, more than anything.

HOW  MUCH  TIME  THEY  SPEND  EVERY  MORNING  GETTING  READY :       because rory is a morning person, she wakes up earlier and takes her time. after a morning run she is usually never in a rush, takes her time getting the shower and her ritualistic morning coffee brew out of the way. she doesn’t actually spend time getting dressed or dolled up, and even then it usually doesn’t take her longer than thirty minutes before she’s out the door. since she commutes to work, she needs to be early. ( especially if she uses her bike ) 

FAVORITE  THING  TO  COLLECT :    in verses when she’s been sober, she collects sobriety chips. they’re reminders of how far she’s come, or of her relapses. she also collects seashells from her visits to the beach, one of her favorite spots. she has a little jar of seashells of various shapes and sizes stowed on one of her shelves. 

LEFT  OR  RIGHT  HANDED :      right handed.

FAVORITE  SPORT(S) :   bowling. she doesn’t look like she can pick up a bowling ball bit she has perfected her technique. a prized member of any bowling league. 

FAVORITE  TOURISTY  THING  TO  DO  WHEN  TRAVELLING :     rory’s not traveled much but i imagine she’ll want to do something she’s familiar with and already enjoys. try the local coffee, go to the beach, maybe even go on a food tour.

FAVORITE  KIND  OF  WEATHER :   rory prefers warmer to colder weather. her favourite would be spring, when the hint of coolness is still in the air but the sun’s warmed up the weather and everything smells and looks so fresh and renewed once the biting coldness has thawed. she can even feel her powers rejuvenate, and her own energy levels improve as the cold goes away. 

WEIRD  /  OBSCURE  FEAR  THEY  HAVE :     rory hates looking through peepholes on doors. she has had a growing fear of finding someone there if she looked, so she doesn’t looked. she also hates the hall of mirrors, whenever it skews how she looks like. she just can’t look at it too long. 

THE  CARNIVAL / ARCADE  GAME  THEY  ALWAYS  WIN  WITHOUT  FAIL :       her aim with a gun might be awful but she’s made so many kids happy at the carnival by winning them the biggest toy at the water gun stall. wack-a-mole also is very therapeutic for her. she may be letting out her frustrations on that one too literally.

tagged by: @ltrooster & @ltdice <3 tagging: @gunbash , @greenelight , @gentsleuth , @damecrime , @crescnti , @nancyedrew , @adventurecall , @dinopunching​  and you! 

#it was nice to refresh this because i did it a while back so now i have more solid headcanons so i love this!!! #‧ ⁘ ✦ ☾ ︴ answered — go ahead and cry little girl. #‧ ⁘ ✦ ☾ ︴ headcanons — the chains are broken but are you truly free?.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; pwp, fem + afab!reader, dubcon (reader is drunk af), dirty talk, rough-ish sex, the liiiightest yan undertone. 18+

✮ a/n ; im not a kiri fucker but i . had a thought in the shower

Kirishima fucks like he has something to prove.

That part of him hasn't changed, you think. It's a bad time to be reminiscing about such a thing, especially since your brain can't think of anything other than how good it feels to have such a thick cock buried in your sore, weeping cunt.

Kirishima has stopped briefly, just to bottom out and press his navel to your sex - so your brain has a little space to think. You don't know exactly how you've ended up here after thinking about it for a long time. The alcohol is making your head feel fuzzy and your lower half is weak, might melt into Kirishima's nice king size bed if you're not careful.

An hour ago, you had come off of work and joined some friends in an izakaya. Kirishima was there too, seemingly with his own friends. You hadn't seen him since middle school, when he shorter and more negative. You had a crush on him then, back before all the hero stuff.

It was refreshing to see a boy your age obsesses over something like being a perfectly chivalrous man. You were friend though not closely, and had a dopey school girl love affair that never came of fruition. You didn't speak to him after that, weren't close enough to ask - and watched him grow into a hero through televised events and news.

He's a pro now. He was much bigger than you thought he'd be. You didn't think men could get that big, unless they played basketball or something. He was shorter than you in middle school but when you saw him again in person, he was double your height. You had to crane your neck up just to get a good look at his face. Defined jaw and rugged, boyish charm that made your cheeks warm like you hadn't grown out of being a girl.

You thought he wouldn't recognize you since he's basically famous now, but he did. Flagged you down and whisked you away for drinks and catch up time. Your friends pushed you to go, so you did. You drank and spoke about nothing in particular and Kirishima seemed so enraptured with you - you thought the alcohol had fried your brain. Thoroughly tipsy and giggly, you admitted to having a crush on him in long and unnecessary detail. That you liked him, and seem to still if this feeling is anything to go by.

You hadn't expected anything of it. But he kissed you in the corner of the bar and asked if you had anywhere to be, hauled you into a taxi when you said no and made out with you on the way home. Put his hand underneath you shirt and squeezed your waist, said something about how cute you are. Always have been.

No one seemed to think anything of it when you left. Pro-Hero's escort drunk girls all the time, but you wonder if it's normal to fuck them? You wonder if Kirishima has practice in bring home drunk girls who are too big for their boots and too needy to be anything but sincere.

He's so good at fucking you, you aren't sure you'd mind that being true. Not like this.

He didn't give you any time to adjust to what was going on, every breath had him chasing more of you like he'd run out of time if he didn't rush. He carried you inside, licked your pussy while you laid against his kitchen counter and finger fucked you until you could take all eight inches of him. Was he always this relentless? You know he was never kind, no matter how much he seems it. He was always critical and cunning, but you didn't expect him to be so ruthless.

He doesn't let you off of his cock after he gets you on it. Makes you wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you barely can because he's so big. Makes you wrap your legs around his waist and tells you to hold tight as he walks you up the stairs with his cock still twitching. The whole thing makes your eyelids burn with pleasure, your body yearning to keep him inside of you for as long as you can stay conscious which is barely when you're this wasted.

He dropped you in his bed and fucked you in missionary. You think in the span of a few hours, you've spent more of it feeling his cock throb inside of you longer than you've spent without. He's too big, and fucks mean. There's no chivalry in it, just pure primal desire behind weight and heavy thrusts that make you gasp involuntarily.

You haven't stopped cumming. You've never done that so much in a row. Your body feels nearly numb as you think on it. He's been keep you like this for so long and the alcohol is making you lightheaded. You can barely understand what he's saying except that he's loved you for so long. You wonder if that's true. Your pussy likes it though, clenches every time he groans into your neck after the headboard hits the wall with his thrusts.

He fucks you like he wants to prove something to you. You don't know what exactly. You're drunk and floaty and you can't stop cumming and you can't think of anything other than how much you want him to fuck your brains out. How much you want him to cum, so deep in your pussy you'd have to push it out to get rid of it. How much you want to cum around his cock until you get so fuckdrunk you pass out on it.

A little pleasant catching up and now you can't unfurl your spine from the way it's raised, and your toes hurt from how tight they've curled. You feel ditzy with it. Didn't know cock could make you cum so much you turn stupid and babbling. It's all you've been doing and Kirishima doesn't seem to mind it all. Just laughs at your nonsense words and kisses you with sharp teeth and fucks you.

And fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, with your knees to your ears and your eyes blurry and hazed.

"Kirisihima-kun," You gasp at him, breathless and hot.

"Eijirou," He corrects with a nip to your mouth. "We won't leave each other now. Not anymore."

He punctuates with the promise with a thrust so deep you can't do anything but agree. You wonder if all this is trying to prove his love for you, but how you could that be true? It's been years.

Another thrust makes your lower belly clench, and something squirts out of you mid thrust. You're too hazy to feel self-conscious of it and Kirishima only laughs.

You close your eyes and let him have you. Again and again and again.

#kirishima smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #writing tag #dubcon cw #aha nooo kirishima dont take advantage of me while im drunk and out of it haha nooo #<- SORRY LAMSDOFJKD

[quin-ns]

Matchmaker (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 1.8K

Summary: ellie knows joel has feelings for you and proceeds to annoy him relentlessly about it

Tags: basically just all fluff, humor, age gap, ellie being ellie and messing with joel, mutual pining, love confessions (more of a realization but whatever), friends to lovers implied, ellie is a great wingman

Request: anon: “It would be so cute to have Ellie basically shipping Joel and the reader, like her being a little matchmaker. If you chose to write this do with it what you want that’s all I got. Would love to see what you do!”

A/N: this was actually my first time writing for joel while having ellie play a part and I gotta say it was super fun! I really loved this idea <3

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist

“You are so,” Ellie argued, a cocky grin on her face as she taunted Joel from his side.

“I’m not,” he grumbled back, not wanting to be on this topic with Ellie. 

The kid had gotten the idea in her head that Joel had feelings for you. Thing was—she wasn’t wrong. But Joel had yet to tell you and he didn’t need Ellie blabbing or pestering him about it.

But Ellie was Ellie, so the latter was exactly what she was doing. It had been a while now and he couldn’t get her to quit it. Denying it wasn't going to work it seemed.

“You’re definitely into her. I won’t say the L word again, but you’re not fooling anyone. You’ve got, like, heart eyes for her, dude,” Ellie pointed out. “God—how did I not notice before?”

“Drop it,” Joel told her. You were walking ahead of them, curiosity driving you to increase your pace. You weren’t that far because Joel could still see you—he would’ve been too worried if he couldn’t—but you were far enough ahead that thankfully you couldn’t hear Ellie clearly. Still, he didn’t want to risk it.

After everything that had happened, he couldn’t risk a strain being put on your relationship. Not when you and Ellie were all he had in the world right now. You all had bigger things to worry about, like the fact that the winter was growing harsher as you were heading north.

“She probably likes you too,” Ellie commented, sounding awfully sure of herself. “I mean, there’s gotta be a reason she’s put up with you this long.”

Joel let out a scoff. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” 

Ellie shrugged. “I will if you tell her.”

Joel shot her a confused look, a slight frown on his lips and his eyebrows furrowed. “Why do you care so much?” he asked accusingly. 

“Because I like you, and I like Y/N, and I think it’s nice you make each other happy,” Ellie explained easily. “Plus, you’re less grumpy with her and that’s pretty refreshing,” she threw in the slight jab at the last minute. It’s not like it was false.

Joel just made a sound, like a “hmph,” and looked back ahead. His eyes landed on you. As if you could sense it, you looked over your shoulder and threw him a reassuring smile. 

A smile of his own tugged at Joel’s lips. 

“See?” Ellie spoke up. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

The smile faded into an annoyed expression as he looked back at Ellie. She was just smirking to herself, like she’d busted him or something. 

She stared up at him for a moment, then looked back ahead. “You’re just grouchy because I’m right,” Ellie sassed. She didn’t need to look at Joel to see his eye roll. 

They walked in silence for about a minute. During that minute, Joel was relieved. He didn’t feel the need to discuss his inner thoughts and feelings about you with someone that wasn’t you. As far as he was concerned, his love for you was none of Ellie’s business and wouldn’t even be yours until the time was right.

He was going to tell you. Eventually. Maybe it was taking him longer than he thought because of how complicated things had gotten on the journey, but he’d find the time. Soon… if he could work up the nerve to.

There were moments where Joel saw a spark there, between the two of you. And apparently he wasn’t as good at hiding his feelings as he thought, so maybe on some level you knew and even reciprocated. If Ellie thought there was something there, than maybe—

“All I ask is that can you not do it near me if you guys want to have se—”

“Ellie!” Joel snapped, cutting her off. 

Because of the sudden loudness, you halted and turned around. “Everything okay?” you called back to Joel and Ellie, concern present in your voice.

“We’re fine!” Ellie shouted back and gave you a thumbs up. 

Joel didn’t say anything, still thrown off. He had not been expecting her to go there and really, really was in desperate need of a change of topic with the fourteen year old. He gave her a look, silently telling her to knock it off.

“What?” Ellie asked defensively, but also clearly very amused with herself. “It’s a valid request.”

“Knock it off,” Joel said out loud this time instead of just thinking it like before. 

“Fine,” Ellie feigned defeat. She fiddled with the straps on her backpack, gripping them in her gloved palms. Then, she took off in a light jog. 

“Where are you going?” Joel yelled after her.

“I’m gonna bother Y/N now!” she called, not looking back. Ellie caught up to you and slowed her pace. Joel didn’t know if he should be worried or not, but he hung back anyway. 

“Hi,” Ellie greeted you when you noticed her presence. She was kinda hard to miss.

“What’s up, Ellie?” you asked kindly, giving her a once over. “Everything okay?” you glanced back at Joel and found he was fine too. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine,” Ellie assured. “Just thought I’d check on you.”

“You’re checking on me? I’m touched,” you told her with a hint of sarcasm overlaying your appreciation. Ellie didn’t do much without a reason and between her and Joel’s muffled argument behind you and the devious little smirk on her face, you suspected she was up to something. “Seriously, what’s up?”

“What do you think of Joel?” Ellie questioned vaguely.

You laughed a little. “That sounds like a loaded question,” you commented.

“Huh?” She furrowed her brows, not getting the term. “I mean like, do you like him?” she clarified. 

Another laugh from you. So you were right. “Of course I like Joel. What kind of question is that?” you wondered. “He’s my friend, has been for a long time.”

“Okay but, like, do you think he’s handsome?” Ellie pried bluntly, looking up at you for your reaction. You were a little taken aback, then amused.

“Where is this coming from?”

“Just… curious,” she lied. Ellie looked over her shoulder at Joel briefly. “So, do you?” 

Ellie looked up at you and found you glancing back at Joel yet again. A small smirk appeared on your face. You leaned down a little and whispered to her, “Of course I do. I’m not blind.”

Ellie laughed at that, enjoying the feeling of gossiping a little more than she realized. You were going along with it—you were always a good sport. 

“Do you think you’d date him?” Ellie pushed, seeing how much she could get away with in this ‘girl talk’ scenario.

Ellie considered you a close friend at this point, something she never had that many of. Sure Joel was a friend too, but he was also like a dad. And there was just something special about having a girl friend that she could talk to. While with Joel she usually had to annoy him into talking about life stuff (a few minutes ago being an example), you would be open to the conversations just because. You didn’t treat her like a kid despite being older—probably because you were closer to her age than Joel’s anyway.

That’s why if you liked Joel, Ellie wanted you to know that he did too. Even if she gave Joel a hard time and sometimes (but very rarely) did the same to you, you both deserved to be happy. 

“What do you think?” you turned the question. 

Ellie shrugged. “I know he’s kinda old and kinda grumpy, but he’s a good guy,” Ellie campaigned on Joel’s behalf. “He cares about you a lot.”

You smiled to yourself. “Yeah, I know,” you admitted. “I care about him too. A lot.”

“As more than just a friend?” Ellie needed to know, the anticipation was killing her. 

She didn’t know when she suddenly got so invested in your and Joel’s relationship status. Of course because she cared about you both, but she could also blame it on the months of boredom. Finally something interesting was happening. 

And what you said next was definitely interesting.

“Yeah,” you revealed with a little nod. “For a while now.”

There was a light smile on your face that made Ellie smile too.

Ellie looked over her shoulder at Joel once again and her gaze met his. She wondered what he’d say if he heard what you had just said. She didn’t think he did because he looked suspicious, silently asking her what she was doing. She looked back forward. Oh boy, if only he knew.

“That’s interesting,” Ellie mused. “Because I happen to have some information.”

You raised your brows at her, hearing the knowing tone laced heavy in her voice. “Oh?”

Joel couldn’t take not knowing anymore. You and Ellie had both kept looking back at him—definitely talking about him. He picked up the pace a little, not really jogging but more like speed walking. You and Ellie had slowed your pace a little before, caught up in conversation, so it didn’t take him long to place himself on your opposite side.

“How’s it goin’ up here?” Joel asked as casually as he could manage, drawing attention to himself. 

Ellie moved to walk backwards in front of you and Joel. She didn’t miss a step as she eyed you both. 

“Good news, Joel,” Ellie addressed him cheekily. “She likes you too.”

His eyes went wide. Ellie just bit back a laugh and left it at that, turning on her heel and picking up the pace to get ahead of you two. She stayed in line of sight, but out of the strangling zone (she wasn’t actually worried, but she knew she was being a menace so she kept a distance). Not a far enough distance to be out of earshot, though. 

She had to hear this after all her work.

“So,” Joel started flatly. He looked down at you just as you looked at him. Then you both turned your heads straight forward and kept walking in tandem. “I guess I should ask what she said?”

“Well, she was asking me a lot of questions about how I felt about you,” you recalled, sounding very entertained by the whole situation. “Kinda had a feeling for where it was going.” 

Joel heaved out a dramatic sigh. “Kid’s not subtle, is she?” he asked rhetorically. You both knew the answer to that.

You laughed. “Not at all.” 

The sound of you laughing and your words made Joel relax. He let a chuckle fall past his lips. 

Ellie looked back at you and Joel, the sound of you two laughing together making her smile. 

“Oh look, she’s staring at us,” you pointed out, nodding your head at her. Ellie whipped her head back around as if trying to pretend she hadn’t been watching you two. “Did we really just get set up by a fourteen year old?”

Joel scoffed out an amused sound. “Yeah, I think we did.” 

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message!

#quin-ns writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #ellie williams

[chamomiletealeaf]

Olderbf!/kinda Sugardaddy!Price brainrot

Thinking about olderbf!/kinda sugardaddy!Price who buys you anything you could ever want. You grew up in a pretty money-tight household, feeling guilty when anyone spent money on you because you were so aware of how much things cost at such a young age.

But if you look at those shoes on sale you thought were cute for a little too long? It's wrapped up all nice for you by your door the next day when you get home from work with a cute lil note on the box.

"Saw you looking at these <3"

You mention craving your favorite food? He's taking you out immediately.

"Ugh __ sounds really good right now." You say as you walk into the kitchen to try and find food already in your fridge.

"Take out or dine in?" Price asks.

"What?"

"Do you want me to order it as takeout or do you want to eat there?"

You pause and look at him hand still on the open fridge door, taken a bit off guard. "I-"

He's already picking up his phone and wallet waiting for your answer. And when you don't answer, he does for you.

"Put some shoes on, let's go out hm?"

You try to hide your smile and blush as you make your way to the door where your shoes are, and where your boyfriend stands too, helping you put your jacket on.

Or when you two go shopping together and you get distracted by a section with CDs and vinyls as you see a deluxe vinyl of an album you've been wanting to get for your record player.

"Oh John look! Wow I didn't think they'd have this here! I've been meaning to try and get around to buying this!"

You pick up the deluxe album and turn it over to check the price, and your giddy smile fades a bit seeing it. You put it back, visibly a little upset as you furrow your brows a little and go for the regular album that's a little bit cheaper, which you note as you turn that one over and see the price.

"Hm. This one's a little cheaper." You say to yourself quietly, not thinking Price can hear as you go to put it into the cart, but he stops you.

"No." He grabs the album from your hands before you can place it in and you look up at him wide eyed. He doesn't make eye contact with you as he swaps the regular album for the deluxe one you wanted and replaces the empty spot in your hands with it.

He looks down at you and sees you cutely staring at him with wide curious eyes.

"I'm getting you the one you want bunny." He says with a smile. "Plus the deluxe version has more songs that I can watch you dance to in the kitchen so it's a win win." He says with a wink and your wide eyes fail to conceal the love for your boyfriend in that moment as it lights them ablaze.

Or on one particular bad day when you come home and do some online window shopping on your couch in your cart on Etsy to make yourself feel better. Your cart is filled with cute stickers, jewelry, fanmade merch for your interests, and cute trinkets to decorate your house with that you look at hoping one day you'll be able to afford to get them all. You definitely had money, but it was just enough to get you by with little left over. As you log into your account, you realize that your whole cart is empty.

"What?" You try and refresh the page, panicking a bit as you had so many things in your cart that you don't really want to go searching for again. It took a while for you to find them after all.

ding!

your laptop makes a noise as an email notification comes up

"Thanks for your order!"

You panic, thinking maybe you bought everything by accident, which you can't exactly afford right now, until Price comes up from behind you, leaning over the couch to nuzzle his face into your neck.

"Surprise bunny." he whispers into your neck smiling.

"John, what? what did you do?"

"You're always on that website looking at those things. Got tired of seeing you not have them. Plus, I'm always looking for a way to spoil my little bunny hm?" He smirks into your neck, bringing his hands around to grasp yours.

"How did you-"

"Shhh don't worry about it. I got you express shipping too. You'll get everything this week." He places a hand on your chin and gently turns your face to him and he kisses you, making you feel a warmth that no fire could ever provide nor compare to.

You're not selfish, both you and John know that. You don't need the little or big things he buys you, but boy does he love spoiling you with them, as it helps to heal the part of you that always felt guilty as a child when it came to spending and saving money on you, as your family never had much.

And there's nothing else John would rather do than spoil his pretty girl rotten just to see her smile.

#captain price x reader #john price cod #captain john price #captain price #cod mw2 #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #price x reader #fluff #cod mw3 #fanfic #call of duty #modern warfare x reader #ilovehim #kickingmyfeet #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #cod x reader #ghost cod #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john soap mactavish #modern warfare 2 #real #john price #soapghost

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: To Make me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: To Make Me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: You bought a life-size puppet in terrible condition and restored it. But now it doesn't want to let you go.

For Horrorfest request:

Might be cheesy, but Scaramouche haunted puppet for horrorfest? Maybe reader inherits an uncannily lifelike doll, or finds him as an antique?

Word count: 1156

notes: yandere, puppet shenanigans

“He’s creepy,” your friend says. Her nose crinkles and she puts a hand up as if she can ward away whatever haunting abominations she imagines must be inside the doll, waiting to slither through her nostrils. “And weird,” she continues. “And broken.” 

The doll has colorful blue hair and most of his strings are missing; one of his eyes is missing its pupil and an arm is cracked, a jagged wound that goes all the way to the fingers. If the doll were to be lifted, the damaged pinky on that arm would probably come right off--maybe the forefinger, too. He’s dirty and wearing only some cast-off shirt, itself probably too damaged to be sold by the secondhand store. 

Your friend moves on, eager to head to the second floor where all the nice, expensive secondhand goods are kept, often behind glass cases so they don’t get damaged by looky-loos.

But you stay where you are.

Because the moment you took one look at the damaged life-size puppet propped up at the back of the store, in the same pricetag-less limbo as piles of tupperware with no lid, ripped books and ugly dolls missing arms, and your heart swelled. 

“He’s perfect.” 

--

The pinky on the damaged arm did come off before you even left the store, but you were able to salvage the original forefinger. The pinky, sadly, couldn’t be repaired--but you made a new one using the original as a mold and unless you’re staring quite intensely (which to be fair, you often do, when working on the puppet) you wouldn't be able to tell that it’s not original to the hand. 

“I’d like to keep all your original parts as much as I can,” you murmur in the direction of the puppet, currently propped up on a chair you’d dragged into your workroom for the sole purpose of letting him have somewhere to sit while you worked. “You really are exquisite, you know? I can’t believe someone let you get into such rough shape.” 

You sigh, lamenting the treatment of such  a unique piece of craftsmanship, and place the finishing touches on the puppet’s repaired eye. The pupil needed to be filled in with new material but you went ahead and refreshed the iris of both eyes to make them look newer. 

“Good as new, see?” You hold up both repaired eyes to the puppet, but realize your mistake when you’re greeted with a prim looking puppet with two black holes where his eyes should be. 

“Oops.” You carefully slide the eyes back into the socket, fiddling with your finger until they slot right into place. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking. There!” You grab the magnifying mirror from your desk and hold it up in front of the puppet. “Now, see? Much better.”

It took a few months of work, but the puppet was just about restored, in your view. You’d even bought a new outfit for him, a simple white blouse with ruffles and plain trousers. It wasn’t exactly what you imagined he might have worn originally, but that was fine. 

“I’m glad I found you,” you say, to the puppet--and to yourself. “I’ve had a really nice time working on you!” You hum to yourself and start tidying up your work bench. “Now all that’s left is attaching your new strings, and I can have you picked up.” You smile, to yourself, to the puppet, to no one in particular. “I can’t believe that antique shop gave you away for free--they had no idea they were sitting on such a rare item!” 

But you, who repaired dolls and the like for a living, immediately knew what the puppet was worth; and who to contact as soon as you were able to get it home, as you knew a friend with an antique shop that took special requests, and he had a particularly wealthy customer who was dying for one of these rare life-sized pieces. 

The puppet with freshly painted eyes stares back at you and says nothing.

--

Something is sitting on your chest. Something heavy and cool to the touch. 

Sleep paralysis?  It wouldn’t be the first time. You did sleep on your back, after all, and your nights were sometimes restless. 

But you open your eyes without trouble, and the sensation does not go away. It takes a few moments, blinking in the dark, to realize who (no--what) is sitting on you.

It’s the puppet. 

Freshly painted eyes stare down at you, a face framed by the carefully sewn-in hair. In the dark, you can’t see the wood grains of his skin or the repair marks that you’d buffed until smooth. All you can see is his human shape, the gleam of glass eyes. 

“What--” you say, before a wooden finger presses to your lips.

“You were going to sell me.” It’s the puppet--the puppet is speaking.

You nod, terrified, every nerve in your body inflamed.

This can’t be happening, and yet it is. 

“Why?”

Your lips are dry and you stutter out an answer, hoping to wake up from this dream at any moment. But the more time goes on, the more you realize that you’re living in reality. An awful one, but reality all the same.

“I-I needed the money, you… you’re worth a lot.”

There’s a sound that comes from the puppet’s wooden throat, but you can’t quite place it. 

“You can’t sell me,” he says, simply. If you weren’t sure that you’d lost your mind, you might say that he sounds upset. Not just angry, but--hurt. 

“I-I won’t.” You swallow. “Just um. Get off me and I can…”

“No.” The glass eyes bore down on you, and you wish your eyes weren’t becoming accustomed to the dark. It was better not to see the cool stillness in them, unmoving, unblinking.

It’s then that you notice the strings.

Not on the puppet--but on you. 

The strings are wrapped around your wrists, tight, pinching into the skin. When you look up you see he’s attached them not to a marionette control bar, but to his own fingers. To himself. 

He raises his repaired pinky and your wrist goes along with it--too fast and harsh, nearly flopping over your face.

”Ah.” He regards your flopped appendage with curiosity, before simply lifting it himself and placing it back on your chest. “Well. I’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.” 

He leans forward, pressing his weight down on you, until his face was close enough that you could spot your own work; spot the little fine details in the paint, the grooves of his wooden flesh, the way his hair fell in a certain manner thanks to the placement of your carefully created knots. 

Oh, you thought, as his face came closer to yours, as he kissed you with puppet eyes wide open and wooden lips stiff. 

The paint on his lips needed to be touched up. 

#yandere scaramouche #yandere genshin impact #yandere #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest #scaramouche with abandonment issues but in puppet form! dun dun dun

[luveline]

Omg what about reader talking to Eddie and she just starts crying bc she's just loves him so so much and Eddie is so confused what's happening and for a sec he thinks it's bc the joke he made hurt her feelings and he's just like "baby sorry no I'm sorry ur not too chatty" and like "ur crying bc u love him? Why is that making u cry??"

“And we went back to her place and slept four to a bed. I'm surprised I had it in me, but I guess I was, you know, sixteen.” You stab a particularly nice looking roasted potato with your fork and put it on his plate. “It's kind of crazy. I couldn't do that now, I'm too old. My back would hurt too much. I can only sleep in my bed or your bed.” 

“Mine, please.” 

You laugh and give him another potato off of your plate. He already has potatoes, but this is how you are. You won't accept them back —he's tried to stop you before, with less than optimal results. “Yours for sure. I'm too full to drive.” 

“That's what I like to hear.” He pushes his plate away in case a third potato is on its way, gesturing to your food with his knife. “Is yours warm enough?”

“Sure.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin and take the sip of your shared drink with a refreshed smile. “Ah, and that's really cold.” 

“We could still do stuff like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“You know, like you and your friends did. I know we're not sixteen anymore but we can still have fun.” 

“I do have fun.” 

He shrugs and stands, picking up your empty glass to refill for you. “And we'd get to sleep in our own bed at the end,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “We'll go out this weekend and do all that fun stuff. But with fewer felonies.” 

“They weren't felonies,” you say. 

Eddie laughs as he makes his way to the sink. He loves this, having dinner with you, letting you talk his ear off. “You're nonstop tonight, baby, somebody put a quarter in you or what?” 

“Two quarters,” you say. 

He makes a drink. It can't take long. He rinses out the glass, fills it with coke, grabs a handful of ice cubes from the fridge and wipes the counter when he's done. He sits across from you as he had been, waiting to hear more of your story or maybe whatever plans you'd like to make this weekend, but he stops cold, because you're crying in your seat all quiet and secretive, looking down at your lap. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, panic shooting through him, quick and unapologetic, “Hey. Hey, what's wrong? You're crying.” 

He reaches across the table for your hand. “I wasn't trying to be mean,” he says hurriedly. “You're chatty, but you're my chatty– uh, thing, you know? Not that you're a thing. You're not a thing.” Eddie squeezes your hand, swapping panic for a more serious demand. “What's wrong?” 

“Eddie, stop,” you say. 

“You stop. What's wrong, sweetheart? You gotta tell me.” His voice fries with pleading. 

“I just love you.” 

He stares at you. “What?” 

“I love you, Eddie…” You sniff and wipe your cheek. “Sorry, I'm not trying to be a loser,” —you laugh, and his racing heart starts to settle— “just you're the only person I know who'd sit here listening to me babble and figure out what I'm trying to say. I'm so lucky. I love you so much.” 

Eddie feels a heat growing along his waterline. “Well, hey, I love you too. You're the only person I'd wanna sit and listen to. You get that?” 

“I know.” You laugh wetly. “I don't know why it made me cry, I was just thinking, you kissed me and I was thinking hey, he really loves me.” 

“I really do.” 

He gets up out of his seat to hug you. While he holds you, you thankfully ride out the short lived bubble of tears, though you do turn into his chest and splutter another I love you. 

He's shocked that someone would feel that way about him, to love him to tears, especially you. So after he's hugged you close, he peels your face away from his neck to cradle your face, locking your eyes, ensuring that what he's about to say will stick. 

“I love you,” he says, nodding, “but you're not lucky. I like listening to you talk. It's the best.” He wipes your cheeks dry tenderly. “Don't waste your tears on me.” 

“Wasn't trying to.” 

He leans down for a gentle kiss. He knows you weren't upset, but he figures you deserve a soft touch anyhow. A very, very soft touch. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘 - 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 🪩 ❞ - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: most of the social media post made throughout the miami gp weekend!

warning: twitter environment (you know the deal), cussing.

saint’s team radio: hi everyone! just wanted to give y’all a little something something before releasing ‘break my soul’ ! i’m a bit sick rn but i will get back into my groove very very soon 🤭

dividers by: @cafekitsune

pls like, comment and reblog! 🫶🏽

taglist: @queenshikongo3 @mauvecherie-writes @httpsserene @lorarri @goldenalbon @yeea-nah @non-stop-imagines (lmk if you want to be tagged!)

-

twitter

instagram

nadiahamilton

liked by lilymhe, badgalriri and 1,383,994 others

nadiahamilton yes i know where he keeps his music and no, i won’t be telling you where 🫶🏽

view comments

nadiahamilton it was sooo nice meeting you guys this weekend 🥹

pinned by author

user i swear you’re his lucky charm

fransisca.cgomes mother ‼️

alexandrasaintmleux and if i ask for your hand in marriage?

nadiahamilton let’s run away

user i fell in love everytime you appeared on screen

user her energy is so refreshing, even if it’s through a tv or phone 😭

user where do you get your clothes???

nadiahamilton i’ll make a highlight for all the stores i shop at 🫶🏽

herstudent i hope school’s open soon, we need the tea!!

nadiahamilton you’ll be getting the pamphlets for the medieval times instead 😚

user his arm…dear lord

nadiahamilton i know, can’t believe it’s wrapped around me rn 🥹

user13 no way she just said that????

yungfilly bestie takin over miami!!

chunkz i think this is where you’re wrong brotha 🤨

niko you’re right, i’m the bestie

nellarose_ YOU’RE ALL WRONG 🤣

nataliatheedon and if i smack your ass, i’m wrong 😔

nadiahamilton bc it really hurt plus you were running behind me????

mercedesamgf1 Mrs Mercedes 🤍

user lewis is washed, never going to get that 8th

nadiahamilton watch your mouth 🙏🏽

lilymhe tinkerbell 🥹

liked by nadiahamilton

user is this a inside joke???? a fun nickname??? we need to know!

sza do you think your man will have a problem if i take you away?

nadiahamilton when and where? 🤭

lewishamilton ???????

hater ad21 was deserved 🤣

nadiahamilton i know where you live 🫶🏽

hater as if

nadiahamilton Glendale right??

hater oh shit

user now how tf did she find that man’s address 😭

user don’t question her mastery 🗣️

lewishamilton my angel 🤍

nadiahamilton my superstar 💗

lewishamilton

liked by bellahadid, charles_leclerc and 3,383,929 others

lewishamilton miami, you’ve been good 🙏🏽

view all comments

nadiahamilton steal my captions why don’t you 🙄

lewishamilton it’s my job 😋

user blonde is so her colour

raye you both are so lovely 🤍

lewishamilton thank you Raye and btw, she’s crying because of this

nadiahamilton DON’T TELL HER OMG????

spinzbeatsinc king and queen of england

nadiahamilton do you want me to get deported??

user just accept your fate guys

user now i need to know if he speaks any south african languages

nadiahamilton he tries to but he says it in a british accent so i end up laughing at him

user mr, does this mean you’re the class dad?

lewishamilton i guess so?

herstudent YEAHHH OUR DAD’S SIR LEWIS HAMILTON!!!

user her face should be trademarked

user how many cars do you think they own together?

f1wags what a woman!

user petition for Nadia to be team principal!

mercedesamgf1 we back this 🫡

hater her tattoos were everywhere and stole the attention off Lewis! She’s so ugly

nadiahamilton never that 🙏🏽

user did you guys see that drake reposted her post?

user wasn’t he friends with lewis at some point???

zendaya see you guys soon 🫶🏽

racerbia mother and father

nadiahamilton my man is so fine y’all damn

user SHE’S SO REAL FOR THIS

nadiahamilton like he looks so delectable, my goat fr 🤭

lewishamilton nads 😧

f1 mother of the paddock ‼️

nadiahamilton pls not while Susie is right there ☹️

badgalriri i hope you do know there’s a group of us planning to take her

iamcardib heard she’s a stylist, need one rn

kehlani i second this !

latto777 if she ever needs flowers, i got her ‼️

nadiahamilton y’all 🥹

lewishamilton can you guys stop planning to take my wife away from me?

user idk, something’s fishy

user yeah bc where the fuck did she come from?

text messages !

♡‧₊ billionaire boys club

miles the fencer 🤺: no way they’re stealing your wife from you in broad daylight?

pookie buddy lewis: pls don’t chat, it’s hurting my spirit rn

princess natalia: let’s talk about nads meeting pharrell (also i’m a genius for naming this gc after his company)

daniel is spinning: her face was just like 😧

nadia: 🧍🏽‍♀️

personal pillow amara: but nads, genuinely, how do you feel after this weekend? it was a big one for you bae

nadia: i do feel like ripping the earth in half and falling in but it’s cool because lew gets me ice cream after 🤭

pookie buddy lewis: i always got your back, nads. you know that. we’ll get ice cream whenever you want

miles the fencer 🤺: GET A FUCKING ROOM OMG

princess natalia: EWWWWW

charlotte (not tilbury): don’t listen to them, this is the cutest shit ever 😭

andrew with the camera: but if i expose miles’ 0.5x photos, i’m wrong.

daniel is spinning: DRAG HIMMMM

personal pillow amara: i’ve taught you way too much danny

miles the fencer 🤺: man whatever 🙄

charlotte (not tilbury): nads, i HAVE to see you in malibu

nadia: ofc, i don’t know what to expect from that place

princess natalia: don’t worry bae, we got you!

ೃ° 

The Avengers (niko made this)

chunkz: nads, who’s this boy you’re chatting to? 🤨

filly felipe: “this boy” and it’s lewis hamilton 🤣

sharks: AND they’re married????

nadia: and i was going to invite you lot to my new place and show you my new car but ig you don’t want to

harry (pinero) potter: BOYS TAKE IT BACK

aj shabeeeeel: i personally never said anything 🙏🏽

niko: you know i’ve always loved f1, nads

nella loml: lying on a public platform, niko??

nadia: you lot are too funny i can’t 😭

nadia: but yeah, wanted to know when you guys are available so that you guys can meet him officially

fiily felipe: welcoming our brother in law aww 🥹

king kenny: how about we chat about the marriage??

nadia: how about no? 🫶🏽

chunkz: i’m just happy something so special is happening to you, nads. you deserve it

nella loml: it’s been a tough ride and already it’s looking so up for you bae

nadia: you guys wanna make me cry on a monday morning 🫵🏽

sharks: always the plan 🫡

niko: to make her cry????

sharks: 😐

king kenny: pls come back to London asap, Cench has been calling us up for a vid ever since the last two 😔

nadia: leave me out of that one, i have a husband 🖐🏽

chunkz: YOU TELL THEM NADS

filly felipe: nadia thandeka hamilton, it has SUCH a nice ring to it 😭

aj shabeeeel: and you guys look so leng together, already my brother in law 🫡

harry (pinero) potter: better get home quick for that debrief!

saint’s team radio (once again!): hope you guys enjoyed this one! it’s got a little touch of how nadia interacts with people she knows and people she doesn’t, our social butterfly 🥹

we finally have a ship name for our favs ‘Lewdia’ coined by @mauvecherie-writes!

i’ve got a few more smaus ready but yeah, love you guys loads! 💗

#saint writes #f1 x reader #formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #formula one x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #renaissance: the series #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x oc

[erwinsvow]

𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

summary: lying to rafe is never a good idea.

author's note: eeee! back to writing for my man <3 this can be seen as a sequel to suit the mood of my soul as it follows the plot a little bit but not really, as there's no direct mentions of pogue!reader in this! i just wanted to write a little about what rafe would be like if he find out you lied/what he would do... :) inspired by @princessbrunette for the dad/kid trope she writes about and this one!

now spinning: prisoner by the weeknd & lana

word count: 3.8k

warnings/tags: smut! rafe is a lil scary in this one but it's okay <3, gripping/bruising, face slapping as punishment, daddy/dad usage for rafe and reader is called kid a lot.

“So, what’d you do the other night?” Rafe asks you the question quietly, and he sounds different than usual.

You haven’t really noticed the change yet though, so you act like you always do around him—a little dumber, not as vigilant, and using your brain less overall.

That’s the best part of being with Rafe. He makes all the decisions for you, he figures out what to do and when to do it, and you really don’t have to think around him. At first you were confused, if not a little worried. Did he think you were stupid?

But then you realize this is how he is—so overpoweringly, overwhelmingly dominant that you have no choice but to succumb.

So you go on, unthinking, saying what comes to mind. 

“I was with you, Rafey, did you forget already?” It comes out with a laugh, making yourself comfortable against his chest.

He’d just come over less than an hour ago, after dinner with his family, he had said. He always spent the night after doing anything with his family, because they made him angry and you made him feel better. At least, that’s what he always said.

So it’s easy to attribute his difference in demeanor, the strangeness surrounding your normally nice boyfriend, to a bad dinner with his family. He must have been more upset than you thought.

“Hm,” he says, slowly, curtly. “Is that right?”

“Yes, Rafey, dinner and the ice cream? Remember it melted all over your hand?” Your face flushes even thinking about it—because immediately following that incident, you had licked his hands clean. 

“Yeah, I remember. You have a good memory, kid.” 

You beam at his praise for a second, leaning your head up to stare at your pretty boyfriend for a second. But he doesn’t look down at you the way he normally does. He doesn’t look at all, instead his gaze is still fixed on the television, which is still playing one of your silly rom-coms quietly in the background. 

“Rafe?” it comes out like a whisper, but he ignores you, his grip on your arm tightening while he continues to stare off, not at you.

“Try to remember something else for me, kid. Night before last, what’d you do?” 

You freeze under his touch. Your entire body goes rigid, eyes wide, lips parting. You want to speak, but nothing comes out.

Then, Rafe looks down at you. 

“Can’t remember now? Should I refresh your memory?”

You don’t need him to refresh anything. On the night before last, Sarah had asked you for help with something in the Tannyhill library. You had gone to help, because this was more than just Rafe’s sister, she was your friend too, but when you got there, you were confused. Sarah was there, but so were all the Pogues you had seen around town, seen with her before. 

They were all digging through the shelves, looking for something in the library, and Sarah called you over because everyone in the Cameron house was aware of the fact that you knew this library like the back of your hand. Months of babysitting Wheezie and not having anything to do had led to this very situation. Until you became Rafe’s, that is, because ever since then, you haven’t had to spend another moment alone. 

So then you helped them search for whatever it was they were looking for, and when your phone went off with a message from Rafe, at Sarah’s urging, you lied and said you were at home with your parents.

The Pogues found it eventually, after almost two hours of combing through shelves and trying your best to organize them the way they were. You went home, texted Rafe goodnight, and thought that was that.

It wasn’t a lie, you tried to convince yourself. It was a fib, really, because you just didn’t want him to worry even more when he had so much going on. And it’s not like you knew what Sarah was even up to, she said it was just a little project. 

You didn’t realize what kind of project until now.

“Um, Rafe-” you start, really quiet.

You falter when you get a better look at the expression on his face. It’s the first time you’ve ever been on the receiving end of that look—anger, disappointment, frustration.

Your eyes get watery, immediately. It’s just a natural reaction. 

“You think some tears are gonna get you out of this?” he questions, and you feel your breathing getting heavy, your cheeks getting wet.

You shake your head quickly. You don’t want him to think you’re crying for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry-” comes out before you can stop it, and you try to use the sleeves of your hoodie—Rafe’s hoodie—to wipe the tears away, thinking it’ll be better if he can’t see them any longer, but he grabs your wrist before you can.

You’re pinned in place, his hand gripping you and holding you down, the weight of his body on yours. It’s all you can do to look up Rafe with your wide, wet eyes and hope he listens to you. 

He’s never been mad at you before, so he doesn’t know how to react. You’ve always been perfect to him, for him, and he’s never had to do anything more than take your cheeks in his hand and lock eyes to make you realize you’re doing something wrong.

He didn’t think you could be capable of doing something to hurt him, to get in the way of everything he’s planning, not when you’re so compliant and docile and perfect all the other times. 

You have a collection of pretty dresses and skirts, ranging in lengths and sizes, and you always wear the right thing. Modest, longer dresses that stop above your knee and start just under the necklace you never take off—the necklace with his initial on it—when you’re invited to dinner at Tannyhill with his family.

Shorter, small skirts when he takes you to the club or the bonfire. Short enough that people are staring, not short enough to give anyone a view of what belongs to him.

In his bedroom, it’s just his clothes—shirts to sleep in, hoodies when you’re reading a book on his bed while he finishes his game at the desk, nothing more than one of your tanks and a pair of his boxers when you’re getting antsy and horny waiting for him to get back to bed when he’s on an important phone call. 

He’s never had to tell you any of that—you just do it, you just know it. He doesn’t have to tell you to go wait on his bed for him without complaining. He doesn’t have to tell you he doesn’t like when his friends are seeing parts of you they aren’t supposed to. But most important of all, he didn’t have to tell you to stay away from those dirty Pogues and his annoying sister. You were just supposed to know.

“You’re sorry?” he questions, and you know he’s mocking you. Rafe’s gone quiet, which you’re not used to because Rafe never gets mad at you. You didn’t even think it was possible.

He lets go of your wrist, which flails next to your side. His grip is replaced quickly as he squeezes your cheeks together, fingers pressing hard against your jaw.

“You’re sorry, really, is that all? You lied to me. You think that’s okay?”

Your breathing gets hard and fast under his touch. Your eyes get watery again, trying to say something but it’s silenced between Rafe’s fingers keeping your mouth shut.

You shake your head as hard as you can. You just want to explain yourself—it seemed so harmless when you were doing it. You didn’t want to worry him. You didn’t realize what you were doing. You’d never do it again if Rafe will forgive you.

Then you get scared, eyes wide and blank while your boyfriend stares at you, looking so upset and angry you wish you could reverse time and take it all bank. You worry that he won’t forgive you, that he’ll end things and leave you alone, and the thought itself is so frightening you start sobbing and shaking.

Rafe’s hand leaves your face because he gets surprised at your reaction—he thought you’d be telling him something he really, really doesn’t want to hear, but true to your perfect form, you say exactly what he does want to hear. 

“I’m so sorry Rafe, I’m so sorry, they asked me for help but I would have never done it if-if I knew it would hurt you or make you upset, I-I didn’t know-” It all comes out in a ramble, hurt coating your words and tears streaming down in rivulets down your pretty face.

He’s worried he might have gone too far, scared you too much, but you jump back in his arms the second he’s let go of you, face pressed against his chest and his shirt getting wet. 

“I’m so sorry, please don’t break up with me, I’ll never do it again, I’ll never even talk to them again, I swear, I promise-” 

It’s instinctual, Rafe wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He wonders how he did this—changed the sweet, pretty girl he met on a trip with Wheezie to the library into the girl in his arms now—utterly dependent, crying because of him but not making a single move to defend yourself.

Instead you believe everything he says and you’re sobbing because you don’t want him to leave you. He wonders again, thinking about if he should regret what he’s done to you. 

He doesn’t.

“Shh,” he comforts, and you lean into him further. “S’okay, it’s okay.” He rubs your arms soothingly, ignoring the red down further on the limb, which is inevitably a bruise forming. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

When the words leave his mouth, you melt against his chest like butter, and he grips you tight.

“I’m sorry, kid, I am, but I have to make sure that-that, you don’t do something that could mess up everything I’m working on right now.” You mewl a noise of protest, but he quiets you down again. “Even if it’s an accident, baby, even by accident. You don’t know the things I’m trying to protect you from. I can’t let you get hurt like that, so when you lie to me about something like this, it just upsets me, because I’m working hard for you—for us, and you see that, don’t you?” 

He feels you nod your head slowly.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” and he lets out a heavy breath. You cling to his every word, wondering how you could have been so, so stupid, as to lie to your boyfriend. 

“It’s okay, kid,” his hand moves to your back, rubbing circles on the soft skin, hand tucked under his hoodie and above the waistband of his shorts that you’re wearing.

“Do you forgive me?” you ask, lifting your head a few inches to look up at Rafe, wet eyelashes floating up to reveal red-rimmed, puffy eyes.

He looks down, wondering just how much he’s messed you up.

“Of course I do.” Rafe leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You let out a sigh of relief, too soon. “But you have to promise me a couple things, hm?”

“Anything, anything-” it spills out of your mouth, like you can’t get it out fast enough, looking back up at your boyfriend with big eyes, trying to use your hands against his chest to lift yourself up. 

“Promise me you’ll never talk to those Pogues again.”

“I promise.”

“And that you’ll never, ever lie to me again.”

“I promise, Rafe.”

“Good girl.”

He does that thing again, the thing that has you melting in his hands and allowing him to call all the shots. He reaches out to take the back of your head in his hand, leaning you in for a kiss, and you let him do it, just like you let him do everything. 

Rafe kisses you hard, his tongue in your mouth and trails of spit around your lips. When he lets go, you feel him bit down on your bottom lip, and you yelp against his mouth, but it’s silenced because he pulls you into another kiss.

You’re breathless by the end of it, crawling into his lap because you don’t want it to end, craving a lot more than just a kiss and the press of his hard dick against your clothed pussy. 

When he pulls away, you make another noise of displeasure.

“Really?” he questions, and you know it can’t be good. “Do you really think you deserve this dick now? After that shit you just pulled?” He holds you in place on his lap, stopping your grinding motion with his firm hand. Your face heats up immediately, because you know that you don’t. 

“‘M’sorry, dad,” your murmur against the soft skin of his neck. “You already forgave me…”

“Not getting out of this that easily, kid,” and he pulls you by the hair, making your shoulders tense up as you moan again in discomfort. “I think you need to decide your punishment, hm? You’ll get this dick once you get punished.”

You want to scream in annoyance, because Rafe always knows what he’s doing, and right now he’s doing it on purpose. You can feel his hard-on, and if he let you do what you wanted, you’d fall apart in minutes, but he won’t, because he never does.

So you don’t say a thing, because you can’t ever be a brat to Rafe, not for anything longer than five minutes, and you crawl down, off the bed, sitting on your knees on the ground while Rafe adjusts himself to face you from the bed. He looks down at you, perfectly in place, nose still a little red from crying. 

“So, how many?” he questions, watching you stare up at him with big eyes.

“Five,” you start, until you see how Rafe’s looking at you. “T-ten, sorry, ten.” 

“Good girl,” he says, stroking the side of your face with his hand. “Five on each side, hm? That’s what you meant to say, right?”

“Yes, dad,” you murmur back, in a daze at the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your skin.

The first slap, on your right cheek, is light, lighter than you’re used to. It was barely a tap, and you think quickly, while staring at your boyfriend’s face expectantly, if not a little dumbly, that it was nice of him. The next three are harder, and the final one stings. You’re sure it’s red where his hand was, a part of you even hopes it left a mark.

“Five left,” he says quietly, maybe more to himself than to you. You nod, a little too eagerly. “Yeah, kid, you like this? I knew you would. Little freak,” Rafe breathes out. You cling to each word like it’s praise. “Ready for the other side? Yeah?” You nod again.

He’s harder on the other side, maybe because he realized you can handle it. You’ve gotten much harder slaps than these before, but Rafe forgets sometimes, so he always starts gentle. On the ninth one, your eyes get watery. On the tenth, the tears roll down again. Rafe takes his thumb and wipes it across your cheek, like it’ll soothe the sting. 

You go to unbuckle his belt immediately after, thinking you should make him feel good first, as a part of your punishment, but he stops your hands before you get far, taking you by the shoulders and lifting you up into his lap again.

“What’re you doing?” you question quietly.

“I should ask you that.”

“Y-you said I don’t deserve it yet, so I was gonna make you feel good-”

“I didn’t say that, kid,” he says, pressing his big hand against your neck. 

“Yes, you-” he looks at you sharply, and you shut up mid-sentence. 

“No, I said you’ll get it once you’ve been punished. Punishment’s over, hm?” His hand slips underneath your hoodie—his hoodie—and he starts to lift it up. Your hands go up, helping him ease it off. Once it’s discarded on the floor, you lean in for another hard kiss, hands around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist. 

“Easy, easy,” he says, pulling away for a second. “Have to breathe, remember?”

You shake your head and whine, pushing your lips together again. Rafe moves you quickly, your back thudding against the bed and him hovering over you.

You scramble to get rid of your shorts—his shorts—but Rafe’s hands come up and stop yours before you can. Locking eyes with you, he takes them off himself, until you’re fully exposed and lying naked against his pillow.

Another kiss, another whine. You pull the front of Rafe’s shirt.

“Take it off, please,” you whimper, because you just want to get him naked and get on with it, but the tantalizingly slow pace he’s setting is killing you. 

“Really gonna tell me what to do right now? When I’m being so nice?” Your head shakes but you don’t know if you mean it. “Okay. If that’s how you wanna be, okay.”

He flips you over in one motion—your stomach hitting the sheets before you can process it. You don’t hear anything except the rustle of his hands on his belt, the clink of the metal falling, and a groan from Rafe.

And then you feel him—feel what you’ve been begging for this entire time, the nudge of his tip against your folds. Your whole body tenses and your walls clench in anticipation, but Rafe doesn’t move. 

“Rafe—!” the whine leaves before you can think about it. Rafe’s hand reaches out to grab you by your hair, pulling your head up, his mouth against your ear. You feel your nipples harden and pebble in the air, every part of your body craving something, some touch, some movement.

“Y’know, I thought you were gonna be such a good girl,” he starts, and you feel your walls flutter. “But you’re acting like such a slut today. But it’s okay, I’m gonna give you what you want. Then you’ll be good as gold, won’t ya?” You let a whine at the thought, before Rafe lets go and drops you back onto the bed.

In one thrust, Rafe pushes himself in, and your entire body tenses up at the feeling. The stretch of your walls hurts, no matter how used to him you get, and your bones feel like putty. You can hardly hold yourself up, when Rafe starts fucking you at the brutal pace he’s set. 

The stinging of your face disappears from your mind completely while Rafe batters your pussy, his hands on your back, pushing down while you arch up. Your cheek rustles against the pillow. Nothing comes out of your mouth except whines and moans, and the occasional cry when he goes even harder.

“Just needed this dick, huh, kid?” he chokes out, pressing your face into the pillow and watching his dick slide in and out of your pussy—coated in your cream, leaking down and making a mess of his sheets. “Ain’t that right? I asked you a question.”

He grabs your hair again, lifting you just enough so you can speak. 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes-”

“That’s what I thought-” and he pushes your head down again. “J’needed to be set straight, hm? You won’t ever lie to me again—” Your voice is a mess of garbles and whines, not making any sense but wanting to agree with Rafe so badly. 

Rafe’s fucking you like he hates you, and you don’t have it in you to stop and make sure he doesn’t actually hate you, because the only thing you can think about is making sure he doesn’t stop.

“Or maybe you will,” he starts, in between thrusts. “Just wanna get fucked like this, don’t you? Wasn’t enough for you to get it gentle, right, kid? You’re my little slut-” 

Rafe’s hitting that part of you that makes you see stars—unrelenting, over and over again, but it’s all of those things together—the feel of your nipples rubbing against the bed, how full you feel inside, and especially the words he’s saying—that push you over the edge. You fall apart crying, body shaking, letting out a muffled dad, dad, dad against his pillow. 

He doesn’t stop there, though, riding you through it and then pulling out, just long enough to flip you back over. 

You’re sensitive all over, your walls clenching around nothing while you stare up at Rafe, and then back down to where the two of you were connected. He grips your cheeks again, pushing himself in and staring at your fucked-out face.

He’s way too close to still be fucking you—especially raw, like this—but it’s not until you start speaking that it’s a big problem. You sound all jumbled up since he’s holding your face way too tight, and when he loosens his grip, words fall out of your mouth and he realizes what you’re saying.

“Want it inside, dad, please, please, please, fill me up—” And he finishes, leaning over you and filling your pussy up, just like you asked for. He doesn’t stop for what feels like hours but could only be minutes—you mewl at the feeling and gasp when he pulls out, cum leaking out of your hole and spoiling the sheets even further.

Rafe’s breathless, collapsing beside you and in a much better mood, because he doesn’t complain when you fall against his chest and press your face into his neck. 

He lets you sit like that for a little bit, catching your breath and letting your heart rate return to normal. 

“We made a mess,” you comment, still feeling gushes of his cum spilling out of you. 

“We’ll get it in a minute.” 

He can practically hear your thoughts, buzzing through your little head at a mile a minute, wondering what to say, how he feels, if he's still upset, probably wanting water and a shower too.

You move a little, just to get more comfortable, when Rafe grabs your face again. The side of your jaw is red from where he keeps grabbing you. It’ll leave a bruise tomorrow. He doesn’t care because he’s not planning to let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future.

“Don’t lie to me again, kid. Got it?”

“Yes, Rafe,” you breathe out. "I got it."

“Good. Now let's finish this stupid movie." Rafe lets go of your face, and wraps his arm around you. 

#eeeee #this was.... self indulgent. so no worries if no one else likes it #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #rafe cameron imagine

[brucewaynehater101]

I had an AU, that at this point is more of a headcanon for me, that I thought you might enjoy because it's a nice mix of angst, Tim not thinking things are as bad as they very clearly are, and some fluff.

So it's pretty widely accepted that the Bats don't really know anything about Tim's days with Young Justice right? Like they might know one or two small facts, but they don't know that the gang blew up Mount Rushmore, any of the times the DEO tried to arrest them and drag them into Government Labs for experimentation, or that time they went to a Disco Themed Hell with Supergirl. They sure as hell don't know about any of the things that happened with Secret and Harm. Even though Tim would canonically be gone for days at a time (some of his adventures, mainly the one when they were gone for THE ENTIRE WINTER OLYMPICS) with no one noticing. One time they were in space and had enough time to not only go to Darksied's planet but spent WEEKS there and when they got back still not even Batman knows that Tim was even gone.

Anyways, all this to say. If Tim vanished for a month or two and just said he was spending time with Young Justice again while sending in case files and stuff to keep Bruce busy, I don't think anyone would notice. Nor would they notice if he suddenly switched from being Right Handed to being Left Handed and then after months of practice he goes back to being right handed. It's such a small change after all.

So here's the headcanon. On a Young Justice mission, something goes horribly wrong and Tim full on looses his hand. It's simply gone. The reason no one knows or notices is that he got a robotic replacement, a very realistic looking one like Roy Harper has, that he spent a few months learning how to work with and then went to physical therapy for it for years. It's just part of his life now and he thinks everyone knows, after all. How could they miss it? Jason has seen his palm open with a screw driver deep in his wires. Jason thought he was still tripping from fighting Scarecrow a few hours before. Not a single person outside of Cassie, Tim, Kon, Bart, Greta, Anita, Slobo, and Cissie knows that Tim is missing his right arm just below his elbow for almost 5 years.

That is until Tim has been up for 4 days straight and Dick says something about needing a hand with something and in a moment of sleep deprived brilliance, Tim takes off his hand, and throws it at Dick.

Yes! I love this AU/hc. There is a fic that kind of has this situation: "I told you about that... Didn't I?" by weewoow_070603. Jason is the one to find out, though.

I like the details you added in this AU that the fic (as far as I remember) didn't add: Tim being gone is a regular thing, the fear toxin with Jason, the months of physical therapy, etc.

I do think something as vital as this would happen to Tim, and he'd just forget to tell his family. At first, he tries to hide it. He doesn't want to deal with their fretting, the lectures, the scolding, and them getting involved. He has it handled, after all. After a while, he forgets that he should hide it and why he did in the first place. Then someone finds out, and he's confused why they don't know such a common place thing.

I'm also super glad you tied in all those YJ examples that you did. People tend to focus on the space baseball or Santa Clause (which I love those events too), so it was refreshing to see other events as examples.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #dc au #young justice #young just us #thank you for the ask!!!!

[bby-deerling]

I’m so glad you will write for Sanji!!

Can i please request a Sanji x reader in the whole cake arc where before that Sanji and reader would flirt and have this connection making reader think their relationship would go further but suddenly Sanji decides to ignore them making reader sad and one day he just say goodbye to the strawhats because he will marry pudding breaking reader’s heart (like tons of angst)

Thankfully luffy didn’t believe Sanji and forms a plan to rescue Sanji, so when Sanji and reader are together Sanji confess to reader that he did it to protect them and he was scared this would become his life instead of staying forever with reader?

Sorry if its too much and too especifica dear amazing writer, its okay if you don’t want to write it. I just need a Sanji angst to fluff

I’m also happy the message made you happy, it’s true! The way you write its amazing! Glad you decided to write, post it here and for my tumblr to put you in my page!

Have a nice day!

thank you so much for the request! <3 i made a few lil tweaks, but i hope you still enjoy it!

crazy (sanji x reader) angst w/a happy ending, hurt/comfort, wci spoilers. wc 1.2k

He was back.

He was back, and to everyone else it was like nothing had even happened—even Nami had forgiven him with relative ease.  The whole crew was acting as if the events of the last week and some change were a complete dream, and he never left.

As if he hadn’t been about to marry someone else.

You were a complete fool, thinking you could capture the heart of a man who constantly flitted from one woman to the next.  No stranger to the art of seduction, he threw himself at almost any woman that crossed his path, and on rare occasions, had gotten lucky when the occasional girl on an island would throw him a bone, but he had done so much to try to assure you his affections for you were genuine. 

Neither of you had confessed your true feelings for each other outright other than Sanji's dramatic professions that you would be a fool to take seriously; prior to his departure, you had been trapped in a delicate dance back and forth with each other that had slowly bloomed into something that felt more serious—at least it did to you.  It seemed so silly looking back on it—despite the way that he had toned down his flirtations with other women in order to convince you to fall for him, you should have known it was a matter of time until he went back to his natural habits.  The teasing touches, comfortable silence while doing dishes, and long, emotional talks over a late-night cigarette could only have kept him captivated for so long before moving along to someone else.

Despite the massive headache and heartache the cook was causing, you couldn’t even call him on it right now; after him having been through so much with his biological family, it would be nothing short of cruel to attack him over his wandering eye.  Still, you couldn’t help but hurt tremendously as he served drinks to you and Nami, mask of a smile on his face, without so much as a conversation with you about what had transpired, much less where the two of you stood with each other.  In fact, he seemed to be avoiding you, slipping into the kitchen if he saw you flagging him down on the deck, and contrived some reason to leave if you entered his workspace.

As you suck on your straw deep in thought, refreshing taste of pineapple juice running down your throat, you decide to follow him back into the kitchen.  You could stand him losing interest, but him avoiding anything but basic pleasantries with you was too much for you to handle.

“Ah, hello there, dear!” he says when you enter the kitchen, refusing to meet your eyes and instead feigning interest in a recipe book on the counter.  “I was just about to check on Chopper and Luffy, did you need something?”

Another thinly veiled excuse.  He steals a glance at you, and tenses when he sees you’re not buying it.

“Sanji, you’ve been avoiding me.” you say, voice wavering.  You had intended it to come out far firmer, but your emotions were already getting the best of you before the conversation had even started.

He swallows hard, and turns to look at you.  The silence pounds in your ears at he carefully chooses his words.

“I think we should have this conversation somewhere more private.” he says, sending chills down your spine.  Unable to respond verbally, you nod and follow him to the aquarium bar, which was thankfully empty.  He closes and locks the door, and stands behind the bar across from you; the tabletop separating you felt wider than the ocean you were sailing on.  Despite him being the one to pull you away to talk, he finds it difficult to speak.

“So.  I’ve been avoiding you.” he says, cringing with guilt at vocalizing his intentions.  You remain silent, waiting to hear him out, and the pain in your stare breaks his heart.

“I’ve been avoiding you because I’m no good for you.” he says, staring downward and unable to bear your gaze any longer.  You still don’t speak, forcing him to keep spilling his heart out, an activity that had felt effortless before, and like knives on his tongue now.

“What kind of man leaves the woman he loves to marry someone else?” he asks, hands shaking.

“The kind that wants to protect his friends.” you say, gingerly reaching out to lay your palm on top of his.  He instinctively laces his fingers with yours, and the familiar touch pulls at his heartstrings.

“I did do it to protect you all, you know that, right dear?” he says, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that his betrayal was worth all of the pain it had caused.

“I know, Sanji.” you say, trying in vain to swallow the lump forming in your throat.  “And you were brave for doing it.”

“Not when I’ve hurt you like this—” he insists, tears pricking in his visible eye and grip on your hand tightening.

“Sanji, what’s hurting me is you avoiding me.” you say, interrupting him, and with a firmness to your voice that makes him twitch.  “What’s hurting me is you refusing to even talk to me and acting like everything we had was a dream and leaving me wondering if you ever truly cared about me at all.”  Even though it needed to be said, you immediately feel guilt for saying it as his head falls into his arm and chokes back sobs.

“Of course I care, darling,” he chokes out, “I’m trying to let you go because I care.  I don’t deserve you.  I didn’t deserve you then, and I don’t deserve you now.” he insists, words muffled by his sleeve.  You run your thumb across his hand in an attempt to comfort him, but it only seems to make him more distressed.  His reaction finally gets you to break, and now both of you were sobbing messes.

“Sanji, please don’t let me go.” you plead between gasps for air.  “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.  I should have come to you sooner to comfort you instead of letting you try to distance yourself from me.  I should have known better.”

Your gazes meet, red and watery from tears.  Desperately, you search his face for any sign of what his next words will be, but he stays as silent as you had been minutes before.  Just as he had done, you take a shaky breath and decide to continue.

“I love you, Sanji.  I love you with the constancy of the sun rising and the moon falling.  I love you unconditionally.  All I ask is that if you feel the same way, you stay by my side.”

Something changes in the glint of his eye as he’s suddenly stirred to life.  Normally he is the one for poetic, drawn out confessions of love, but you’ve rendered him speechless as he lets go of your hand and slides over the top of the bar—in any moment less dramatic than this you would have laughed—and stands in front of you, spinning you around in your stool to face him.

“I love you, dear.  On this day and every day, and all the days to come, I love you.” he whispers, softly caressing your face before leaning in to seal his confession with a kiss.  It starts out chaste, but quickly turns into something messy, emotional, and passionate.

“Do you have any idea how scared I was?  That I would never get to see your radiant face again and tell you how I felt?” he rasps.

“So was I, Sanji,” you whisper back,  “but I’m so glad I told you now.

#one piece x reader #x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #poor little meow meow boy #at least he got a happy ending here hehe #crazy like the patsy cline song get it get it

[elysiumarchieve]

THIS IS ENTIRELY SELF INDULGENT BECAUSE I CANNOT CONTAIN MY EXCITEMENT RN AND I MADE THIS IN A HURRY DJSJFJS

gn! s/o reacting to his new outfit

warnings: 3.2/3.3 story spoiler??, posted before 3.2 update and story quest, self indulgent fluff because i love him so much, we waited for our dude for now almost TWO YEARS, happy scaramouche day scaramouche nation

✧ seeing him in blue was rather new to you, in all honesty, it actually shocked you when he finally showcased himself to you, his arms crossed before his chest as he waited for you to react to his new outfit

✧ after seeing the same black and red for years and not even the slightest change in his wardrobe either (as he said he had no need for new clothing), the sheer surprise on your face was to be expected

✧ you rubbed your eyes once, then twice, and then blinked real hard multiple times before looking back up at his face, but he only frowned at your reaction

✧ did he look bad? why do you react like that? not that i mattered to him, but regardless...

✧ you had to explain to him that blue was a completely new color on him, but in a positive way. after all, even his old hat was gone (however, you did mourn the veil that was now missing on him)

✧ when he scoffs at your excitement, you're happy that his attitude did not change - or rather, his god complex and huge ego combined with his superiority complex did tone down to an extent where he's finally able to keep up a conversation without looking down on everyone all the time (he still sneered at the traveler when he first saw them again, though paimon was quick to remind him of his defeat)

✧ his plan to become sumeru's new god failed and you couldn't be happier, especially after you saw the glowing anemo vision proudly attached to a cloth right before his chest, where his heart should be (a nice choice of placement was your only thought as you saw it for the first time)

✧ though you knew scaramouche well enough to know that he'd never admit to be amazed by the small gemstone, the smirk he gives you tells you otherwise - he can try and hide it all he wants, but you can figure out his true feelings behind that snarky gremlin face

✧ he prides himself a little over your reaction. it was expected of him to look good in whatever he wears, so it didn't surprise him that you were like this. he looks good whatever he wears

✧ if you want to continue following him, he won't try to stop you. after coming to a,,, mutual agreement with the traveler on how things are going to continue after he tried to kill them after he decided that he made up his mind, if you follow him even after betraying your trust just a little he'll be more than glad to let you accompany him

✧ you two regularly would head to tatarasuna and tend to katsuragi's grave whenever there was time to do so

✧ while his new fit did not change the fact that he was a litte shit at times, receiving his vision did change his view on the world - in your eyes, that also reflected in how bright his outfit was now, considering that before he wore the same monotonous black for years and now a bright and refreshing blue

✧ and sometimes you can sense that he's also happy about this change

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #headcanons #genshin #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #wanderer #i love him #my little gremlin

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

We Must Know, How Did it End?

“It was tricky, really. Writing songs that come from a place of pain isn’t usually my thing,” Sirius says, plastering a polite smile onto his face. “It’s difficult to describe a feeling that’s so… overwhelming.” 

Peter smiles back, and Sirius can see the empathy etched across his face. 

“Okay, I think we have time for some audience questions,” Pete says, turning to the audience. Sirius follows his gaze to a crew member handing a mic over to a young woman. 

“Hi, uh, hi. I was just wondering if your album is based on your recent breakup? With Remus?” 

His name alone makes the blood freeze in Sirius’ veins. The fan isn’t wrong, his album is essentially all about Remus. It doesn’t stop his heart from stuttering at the mention of Remus. It brings memories that he’s been trying to write out of his system back to the front of his mind. They bring a lump into his throat, and he has to blink harshly to fight back any semblance of a visceral reaction. 

Thankfully, Peter steps in. 

“You know what? Let’s move on. Anyone else?” 

In spite of a few grumblings, the microphone travels further, landing with another fan. 

“Hey. I was just wondering if you ever think that Remus dated you for the fame? I mean, his follower count has doubled since you two-” 

“No, I don’t think that,” Sirius cuts in sharply. Apparently, his need to defend Remus is stronger than his hurt at their breakup. Peter is opening his mouth to speak, probably to move on again, but Sirius isn’t ready to move on. “Of course I don’t think that. Remus’ talent speaks for itself. He doesn’t need me to be his way to break out in the dance world. We might not be together anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is still one of the most genuine people I have ever met. Honestly, his kindness is indescribable. Everything I said while we were together was true. That relationship was the realest thing I’ve ever had, okay? Us breaking up doesn’t diminish that.” 

The whole studio has lapsed into silence, and Sirius is really regretting the way he went about that now. Even Peter’s watching him in shock. Eventually, he seems to remember his own job, clearing his throat and breaking out into a smile. 

“Okay! It’s about time for us to move on…” 

Sirius is pretty sure that he’s been in a trance for the past hour. He doesn’t even remember the trip back to his house. All he knows is that he’s been scrolling through his tagged posts as his manager, Benjy, shouts at him over the phone. 

“This is, without a doubt, the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done!” 

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Sirius grumbles under his breath. Unfortunately, Benjy has the ears of a fucking hawk. 

“If you weren’t a public figure, and I wasn’t your fucking PR Manager, I would think it was sweet, Sirius! However, calling your relationship with Remus the realest thing you’ve ever had?! That gives tabloids every opportunity under the sun to call you obsessive!”

“Yeah, well, it needed to be said,” Sirius says decisively. He’s not wrong. In what world could anyone ever see Remus as anything less than kind? Yeah, they haven’t seen the way Remus would hold Sirius through his panic attacks, say the dumbest things just to watch him smile, or the dance. The one Remus dedicated to him. The one Sirius really should delete from his camera roll. 

“God, Sirius, you’re so lucky that I actually like you.” Benjy interrupts his train of thought, thankfully, letting out a groan as Sirius refreshes Instagram for the fifteenth time. “However, now you need to lay low until people forget that this happened.” 

“What? That I defended him? Just because he’s my ex doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to say anything nice about him!” 

“Yes it does. You can’t say anything too bad, or anything too nice. You have to be neutral. Peter was about to gloss past the question, anyway!” Sirius rolls his eyes, grateful that Benjy can’t see him as he goes scrolling again. He’s being called obsessive in countless different ways by news outlets, people who hate him, and people who have decided that his and Remus’ breakup means that it’s time to take sides. As he looks through them, he’s barely even pausing. 

Until he reaches a post with Remus’ face at the front of it. 

As much as he knows that he shouldn’t, he wants to watch it. He’s spent a lot of time watching the videos he promised James that he’d deleted and crying, but those were videos Sirius had filmed himself. They were personal. He hasn’t interacted with anything that Remus has posted publicly. He doesn’t actually want to be a stalker. 

This feels… different. Mostly because this one has his name on it. 

‘REMUS LUPIN BREAKS SILENCE ABOUT EX BOYFRIEND SIRIUS BLACK:’ 

“Yeah, okay, Benjy, I’ll stay silent,” Sirius says quickly, zoning out. 

“Oh, really? Thanks. That was easy-” 

“Okay, bye.” He hangs up before Benjy can say anything else, immediately playing the video. 

It’s from one of Remus’ livestreams. His face is flushed a slight red, like it usually is after rehearsal, sitting on the floor in his studio. Sirius hates how endearing he finds it. He’s just talking, comments rolling in and the radio playing, when Sirius catches the message. It’s just another one calling him a stalker, but it stops Remus in his tracks. 

“Right, you all need to leave Sirius alone,” Remus says decisively. The way his name sits in Sirius’ mouth brings a lump into his throat all over again. He really needs to stop crying over Remus, it’s getting a little sad. Maybe he is obsessive. “He isn’t stalking me. I actually haven’t spoken to him at all. Listen, the- the breakup was amicable, okay? We don’t hate each other, and we really don’t need people taking sides. All he did was defend me, which he didn’t have to do. It was nice of him, yeah, but it doesn’t make him obsessive. He’s just being a good person, he can’t help that.” Sirius smiles to himself, face warming at the compliment. 

Okay, he is obsessed. 

Still, it’s so unbelievably Remus to be so willing to defend him. To immediately assume the best about Sirius. 

Just when Sirius expects the clip to end, a different song starts playing. He recognises it straight away. It’s one from his new album. 

‘ I told the moon about you… ’ 

Remus’ eyes widen at the words. At Sirius ’ words. He never has been any good at hiding the first thought that flits across his face. 

“Sorry, I’m, er… I’ve got to go. Thanks for- for watching, yeah,” Remus says hurriedly. 

That’s when the clip ends. 

For what feels like the thousandth time, Sirius wants to be in the same room as Remus, to have the privilege of finding out exactly what is going on in his head. He wants to press his thumb against the furrow in Remus’ brow and watch his face relax. Christ, he just wants to touch him, really. His forehead, his hand, his shoulders, his waist, anywhere . With a groan, he drops his head into his hands. He’s actually pathetic. James is the only one who’s allowed to hear about this, and Sirius is pretty sure he needs a stern talking to from him right about now. 

There’s a knock at his front door, which Sirius assumes is James. It’s like the man can read his mind. The knocking is a little… frantic, but James is bouncy, it’s not exactly out of the ordinary. 

He walks slowly over to the door, reaching out and pulling it open. 

The moment he catches a glimpse of the familiar amber eyes, every muscle in Sirius’ body freezes. 

Remus. 

He hasn’t seen him in three months. Not since he left Sirius’ house, got on a plane, and didn’t come back. Sirius has spent a countless number of minutes trying to recall every single detail about Remus, looking at photos of the two of them, wishing that he had spent more time etching every line, every freckle, into his brain. He thought he had, really, but he was right in his interview. Remus is indescribable. 

For a moment, they just look at each other, Remus’ mouth slightly ajar as though he hadn’t expected Sirius to open the door. He almost seems like he doesn’t know how he got there. 

Well, until Sirius speaks. 

“M- Remus? What- what are you…?” He trails off, watching the way Remus’ features set to something much more sure. 

“Sirius, I love you,” he says suddenly. They’re words Sirius never expected to hear coming from Remus again. “I’m still in love with you, and I’m tired of pretending that I haven’t regretted every single step that I’ve taken since I left here. I- God, Sirius, I think we made a mistake. I- I know what we said, what we agreed on. It was too difficult with our schedules, we were both being too distant, fighting over little things,” he lists everything like it’s pointless, as Sirius tries to get his brain to fucking wake up and work. “And I get it, Sirius. I really do get it, I understand, but I’d take thousands of fights over- over dishes, or hogging blankets, instead of having to do these months all over again. This is going to sound really sad, and really bloody pathetic, but I’ve watched the videos of you writing songs in my flat more time than I can fucking count since we broke up! You told the moon about me? I know that line. I’d know it anywhere. It’s the one right before I turned the camera off and kissed you. It just made me- I don’t know, I didn’t think hearing it like that would hurt so much.” He seems to be hit with a completely different emotion, some sense of regret, and it’s probably Sirius’ fault, since he doesn’t seem to be able to get his voice to work. He can sing night after night, go on countless talk shows, but apparently this is what it takes to render Sirius speechless. “I know I’m probably overstepping a boundary, and this is really fucking stupid of me, but I- I want to try again.” 

Yeah, the words really aren’t going to come out. He’s going to have to find some other way to tell Remus exactly how he feels. 

“If I didn’t say something I just know that I’d regret it for the rest of my life. So tell me to leave and I will. I’ll turn around and- and I’ll move country. You’ll never have to see me again-” 

He can’t say anything else, because Sirius is kissing him. 

He isn’t even sure when he made the decision to do it. It’s almost like a reflex, the first thing to come naturally to him. 

There’s not a second of regret that comes with it, though. 

Before he can even figure out where he got the idea to do that, Remus’ arms are around Sirius’ waist, pulling him closer and holding him secure, warm, safe . His lips are soft, so familiar that Sirius wants to cry. 

Actually, he is crying. 

Tears start rolling down his face as he pulls away to look at Remus. Thankfully, Remus is crying himself, and somehow also grinning like an idiot, which Sirius can genuinely say is the most beautiful sight he has ever had the privilege to behold. 

“Oh, my god, I love you, Remus. Moony, I love you so much,” he says quickly, hands reaching to cup Remus’ face. 

“So- you- do you want-?” 

“To start again? Pick up from where we left off? Anything, darling. Anything. I’ll take whatever you can give me, if it means I don’t have to try to move on. You’re not someone I can get over. I’ve tried, and I’m convinced that it’s fucking impossible,” Sirius says, making Remus laugh breathlessly and drag him back into a kiss. Not that Sirius is complaining. He would let Remus drag him anywhere. Remus is his everything. His world. 

Oh, my darling, how could I ever have let you go?

#it's been a WHILE since i've written a oneshot #and I'm also not sure what this is #but I lowkey love it #they're so silly #wolfstar #sirius black #wolfstar oneshot #marauders #remus lupin #remus x sirius #young marauders #moony x padfoot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot

[pitchsidestories]

The Princess Diaries II Zećira Mušović x Reader

chelsea women masterlist

The Swedish Princess got enganged. Scroll further to find the whole transcript of their adorable engagement video with the swedish national team goalkeeper

Interviewer: So how did you two first met? gives them both a curious look

Zecira: To be honest I did not recognize who she was back when. grins sheepishly

Princess!Reader: That's true, for me personally I found that very refreshing smirks

Zecira: She says that now but I don’t think she did back then throws a teasing smile at her

Interviewer: What happened ?

Zecira: It all happened during a football game looks into the eyes of her fiancée

Princess!Reader: Yes, it was a sweden game of course slowly nods while she can't look away

Zecira: I think we even won that game smiles

Princess!Reader: Yeah you did so naturally I went to the after party to congratulate the whole team and you might have heard about it but swedish female football team partys are legendary chuckles

Zecira: You make it sound like it was a big deal laughs

Princess!Reader: Well it kinda was, you girls were securing the third place in the world cup her tone getting more serious

Zecira: Maybe it was kind of a big deal

Princess!Reader: See?

Zecira: So anyways, she was standing there and I didn’t know who she was speaks animatedly with her hands

Princess!Reader: Yes, which was nice and akward at the same time but my instinct was just go with it shrugs

Zecira: I might have had a few drinks already so I just went for it

Interviewer: You flirted with the princess ? shakes his head in surprise

Zecira: Yeah. But I didn’t know it at the time

Princess!Reader: True

Zecira: I only found out hours after that

Princess!Reader: Magda and Frido had to spoil it and tell her about my identity rolls her eyes

Zecira: Didn’t stop me from texting her though smiles confidently

Princess!Reader: Of course not because Z loves a good challenge winks at her fiancée before turning her face back to the camera

Zecira: I do grins bright

Princess!Reader: And what a challenge it was for our both families to accept this entwines her fingers with Zeciras while speaking about it

Interviewer: Tell us more about it.

Zecira: Well, my parents were panicking quite a bit shrugs it off

Princess!Reader: They did until I met them for the first time, remember that love?

Zecira: That’s what you say, they still panic before you come visit them jokes

Princess!Reader: Same, to be honest

Zecira: No, you don’t. Wait, you do? gives her an astonished look

Princess!Reader: Yes, I always feel like I might not be good enough for you in their eyes.. bites her lip

Zecira: Even though you’re a princess?

Princess!Reader: That does not mean I'm the perfect daughter in law, love..

Zecira: It doesnt? winks at her

Princess!Reader: Oh you disagree, huh? looks at her in amusement

Zecira: I do nods

Princess!Reader: Maybe your parents will change their minds too someday in a hopeful tone

Zecira: What am I supposed to say about that, huh? hides her face behind her long hands for a moment

Princess!Reader: next question, please ? turns her head to the interviewer

Zecira: See, she never wants to talk about that huffs

Interviewer: I can tell. But what the swedes want to know how was the propasal and who asked the big question?

Princess!Reader: I did. Really.

Zecira: She did sighs

Princess!Reader: Much to Z's dismay, she even shed a few tears gives her fiancée a teasing smile

Zecira: I had an allergy! laughs

Princess!Reader: In our flat in London ?

Zecira: Yes !

Princess!Reader: So you're allergic to romantic moments ? sounds skeptical

Zecira: Maybe.

Princess!Reader: Maybe?

Zecira: Yeah, my nose is running and my eyes are watering when there’s an emotional moment. Must be an allergy throws her hands up in defence

Princess!Reader: No, that's called feelings chuckles

Zecira: It is? irony dripping from her voice

Princess!Reader: Yeah

Zecira: Oh

Princess!Reader: So yes, we can't wait to get married as you can see grins

Interviewer: I can tell. Any plans for the future?

Princess!Reader: Actually, we do, which one do you think we can tell them, Z ?

Interviewer: you have several plans? interjects

Zecira: Of course but we also know that some things can't be planned..

Interviewer: For example?

Zecira: Children getting serious

Interviewer: That’s… a big plan laughs surprised about Zecira's openess

Princess!Reader: It's but we..

Interviewer: Yes ?

Princess!Reader: Nevermind blushes

Zecira: Let’s just say that our future plans are not that far into the future offers a mischievous smile to the camera

Princess!Reader: Exactly, that might be a good end for our interview, right?

Interviewer: Usually I should end the interview but sure. I think we got enough gives them a satisfied look

Princess!Reader: thanks shakes the hand of the interviewer

"Let’s leave, love.", with a huge smile on Zecira's face she took your hand in hers to get out of the studio where the engagement interview took place.

Hopeful you looked up to the taller woman: "Right, someone has a game to play and I hope Frido secured a good place for me."

"I’m sure, she did.", the goalkeeper reassured you.

With a glance at your phone you answered with a nod: Ah yes, she texted me earlier and is already waiting."

"See you after the game.", your fiancée hugged you fiercly.

Cheerful you wished her good luck.

In a flirty tone Zecira replied:" I don’t need that. I got you here."

Suddenly Fridolina who was still healing from her knee injury appeared at your side:" Don't worry, I'll take care of your princess for you."

"I hope you will.", Zecira said.

Quickly the injured blonde football player responded:"Promise."

"You better should. I’ll see if she’s happy after the game.", the goalkeeper warned her teammate jokingly.

After the match, you were in the stands, leaning down towards your fiancée so you could kiss her: "Your saves were amazing, Zecira !"

"Just for you, love.", the taller woman answered, looking overjoyed about the win.

"For you, the team and me."

"Yeah, fine.", Zecira snotted.

Your cheeks were flushing while you admited:"But it sounded very cute from your lips."

Cheekily your fiancée asked:" How does another kiss from these lips sound?"

"That sounds perfect." , you declared before the goalkeeper was drawing you in for an even more passionate kiss.

"Come here then."

To our readers: Do you like this form of storytelling? Should we do it more often ?

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso one shot #zecira musovic #chelsea fcw #zecira musovic x reader #fridolina rolfö #magdalena eriksson #fcb femeni #chelsea women #wwc 2023 #wwc 23

[the-darklings]

──𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 [𝐈.]

summary: "What does the Lord of Dreams dream about?"

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

wc: 3.1k

warnings: pre the sandman so minimal spoilers, a lil angsty, some yearning, putting a thousand years into a slow burn, Dream is Dream ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

notes: so I originally intended to write and post this as one massive fic but decided to split it up and do a snapshots series when/as I get inspired instead. yes, this really will span 1000 years because Dream is Like That™

series masterlist |

PART ONE: YEAR 0 TO 200

It begins with a cool, rasping: “Wake up.”

Butterfly wings beat against your cheek, sweet pollen dusting your skin while a yawn works your mouth. You smother it in your hand, or try, feeling oddly refreshed for a change. 

“Good mornin’,” you mumble, blinking blearily up at the looming, dark silhouette above you. “Who are you?”

The man before you is neither tall nor short—he's somewhere in between human traits and something old, ancient. A forgotten mortal instinct hums beneath your skin that this is no ordinary man. He's pale, drawn, clothed in all black. His stoic countenance doesn't shift. He doesn't leer or ogle. He simply stands there, a still statue in a backdrop of luscious green, and you blink owlishly up at him. 

“I’m the King of Dreams and Nightmares, and this is my domain.”

Even his voice is at odds with this place. Deep, low, rasping drawl.  

“Oh. That’s nice.”

He certainly has an intense stare, piercing despite the softness of his words, “Who are you?”

Rubbing dust off your cheek, you yawn again, stretching your arms over your head. You feel better than you have… in a long time. 

“I’m the Wanderer. Or at least that’s what others call me. I don’t have any fancy titles, though.”

The man in all black circles you unhurriedly. Flowers beneath his feet seem to part for him, humming with life. It’s a casual display, one he likely doesn’t even notice, but you do. The air in the meadow is warm, sweet, and filled with pulsing power oozing from him. 

“You are not a dream, nor are you a nightmare,” he concludes. “You’re mortal, and yet…”

You raise your hand. “Cursed mortal,” you clarify helpfully. 

He turns towards you slowly. Wait. King. Right. “Uh, your liege,” you add lamely. 

“A cursed mortal,” he repeats steadily. “You do not belong here, Wanderer. Leave my realm now, or I will have you removed.”

“Wait, wait…” You scramble to your feet, dusting your clothes. It’s pointless, of course, but old habits die hard. “One question before I go.”

He pauses mid-turn, silent. But you take it as a sign you should continue. Tilting your head to the side, you examine the black speck in an endless sea of wonderment, realising he’s created this. He’s the one who crafted this beauty. What an odd contradiction. Maybe that’s why your original question slips past your mind, latching onto another question altogether.

“What does the Lord of Dreams dream about?”

His pale stare snaps to you. 

A blink, then he’s gone. 

“Rude.”

.

“I told you to leave.”

“You did. But you never said I couldn’t come back.”

The Lord of Dreams stares down at you. You twist a poppy between your lips with a grin, dropping one leg over your bent knee. 

“You are rather bold for a curse.”

You sit up, crossing your legs beneath you. The poppy flower drifts into your open palm. “I’ll make you a deal.”

His head slants slightly. On anyone else, such a gesture might be scornful or condescending. But on him, it’s no more than idle indifference. His black coat brushes over the flowers as he strolls ahead, his gait leisurely. 

“And why would I care for such a thing?” he wonders idly. “Do not make me banish you. There’s no place for you here.”

There’s no venom or contempt to be found in his words. He’s stating facts and eventualities as casually as one might discuss the weather. 

You choke down on a bitter laugh, a distant helplessness lancing through your chest. “I know. Trust me, I know. I… look. I wander. It’s what I do. I swear I won’t cause you trouble. Your realm is a beautiful place, that’s all. I won’t stay here permanently anyway. I can’t. But may I please stop by occasionally? I’ll stay out of your way, I swear.”

His impassive bearing doesn’t soften. Shrewd, old eyes—sad eyes, you conclude distantly—regard you from beneath a wild mop of dark hair. “You presume I’m one to grant clemency?” 

He has a point there, but you’re not about to point it out. 

Sun bears down on you both, and it’s comical how much he sticks out in this prepossessing dream. Sulky and dark—it’s hard to comprehend this came from him. That someone so removed could craft such beauty solely for other humans to escape into. Dream Lord might be aloof, but he’s not all bad. No one putting so much care into their realm could be. 

“No offence, but you’re not as bad as some of your other siblings,” you point out dryly. 

Faint interest materialises in that bottomless, ancient gaze. Brief as it is. “You’ve met the Endless?”

You suppose that would be a big deal in anyone’s book, won’t it? You’ve stopped thinking about it, though. Had your mortal mind pondered the vastness making up this universe, you would have driven yourself mad. Maybe that was the point of the curse. Oddly fitting, you suppose. Your real punishment would be eternal madness. You take it one day at a time now. Not belonging anywhere is better than not existing at all.  

“Every realm and dimension in this universe is open to me, but I can’t stay there for long,” you explain, hoping that knowing more, understanding more, would help your case. “I get trapped in pockets between worlds. Have you ever been stuck in Despair’s domain? Your sister is not a fun person to be around.”

King of Dreams considers you with ponderous air. “Why can’t you stay?”

Damn it. You hoped he won’t ask. Though hoping that an ancient, all-powerful god personified won’t work through all the threads swiftly was probably idiotic hope at best. 

“Oh, you know,” you begin casually with a shrug and a faint laugh, tiptoeing through the flowers surrounding you. “The usual curse stuff. Death, misery and misfortune follow me everywhere I go. No place to belong bla bla bla.”

“All the more reason you should go.”

You pause, deflating. Your back to him, you nod, shoulders slumping. He has a reputation, doesn't he? You've asked about him since your last visit. Lonesome, reticent, fearsome if pushed. "Right. Uh, do you at least have a name? Or should I continue calling you my liege?"

You peek at him over your shoulder. You're unsure if you should laugh at his slightly sour expression or if that will get you locked up in some dingy pocket universe. Nah. You're not important enough. He's also far too powerful and knows it. Nor does he seem like the type. 

“Dream,” he says lastly. 

Your grin is bright and immediate, pleasantly surprised by the fact he answered at all. “Nice to meet you. I’m Wanderer.” Huffing, you hang your head in abashed amusement, continuing, “I already told you that, but just in case you forgot.”

You lift your head to find an empty meadow. Your look around wildly, groaning. 

“That’s really rude, by the way!” you shout into the balmy air. 

Your words bounce and slice through the Dreaming, as endless as its ruler. No reply comes.

The trees and the flowers around you rustle with the breeze as if silently agreeing with you.

.

“Before you say anything or pull apart my atoms, I’m sorry. I’m still pretty new at this. Sometimes I just end up places. I can’t help it.”

Dream’s gaze is emotionless as the previous times you’ve run into each other. It’s been a while this time. Time itself is an odd thing; slippery and woolly when you slip through dimensions and unfailingly confusing each time.

Dream’s hands remain clasped behind his back. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking, but he hasn’t torn you to pieces or thrown you out yet, so that’s something. Or maybe you’re too accustomed to hostile company. He hasn’t done or said anything offputting, you remind yourself. He’s been distant, perhaps a touch protective of his realm, but hardly unpleasant. Or threatening. 

Deam Lord strides alongside the river shore, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Who cursed you?”

You splash your legs in the sparkly water, delighted by how pleasant and authentic it feels. Everything about the Dreaming feels more solid than the waking world ever has. “I don’t know.”

He pauses, still the only dark smear in an otherwise tableau, colourful scene. “You do not remember.”

So an ancient God is astute. Who would have figured that one? 

“Okay, fine.” You shrug your shoulders, slanting your head towards the blue sky. “I don’t, I forgot. I don’t remember my human life. It was taken from me. Another quirky part of my curse, I suppose. I don’t know my name, who I was, or why I was cursed. Eternal torment, yay!”

There’s little joy to be found in your quiet, tight words. There’s only emptiness, a drawn-out eternity you will spend drifting from one place to another, yawning before you. Never wanted anywhere, never happy. Every day is about making peace with that knowledge and trying to continue despite it. On days like today, it’s almost easy. 

Dream stands facing away from you, but his head is slanted in your direction ever-so-slightly. The quiet intensity burns into your skin, pecking under it. There's nothing he will find there—no power, no secrets—that you haven't already divulged to him. 

“And if you could?” His words come out quieter than usual. You’re not naive enough to consider it curiosity, not with how apathetic he sounds. “Would you seek absolution—”

“Sleep.”

A beat, then, “So you’re slothful.”

How can someone sound so flat yet so unimpressed at the same time? You almost snort. 

Your feet drop back into the stream, splashing water around you. Beneath the current, your heels dig into the pebbled river floor. “I can’t sleep.”

Air tightens and coils around you. The temperature drops several degrees in a single breath. Black, treacherous clouds swell on the horizon in mere seconds. There’s a tickle of air, and then the King of Dreams is beside you in a rustle of cloth, except this time, some nameless darkness swirls beneath his skin. In pitch-black shadows his hunched form casts. He’s King of Nightmares, too, and it’s all too easy to forget it. 

“Do not…” he rasps, “lie to me, Wanderer.”

“I’m not,” you retort weakly, breathless. 

Dream stretches to his full height, still expressionless, shadows at his feet now gone. He doesn't lunge, doesn't sneer. He hadn't even raised his voice. He's serene in the most terrifying way possible. "Do you take me for a fool? You were sleeping the first time we met."    

Your fingers dig into the dirt beneath your palms. 

“Yes. Why do you think I want to come here so badly?” You force out a breath, levelling your voice, reminding yourself that while Dream might not be cruel, it doesn’t mean he will tolerate disrespect in his kingdom. “This… is the only place I can rest, Dream. Ever. I can’t sleep, and I can’t dream.”

He appears unconvinced. “Every mortal dreams.”

Iron-like certainty—as if the thought of an exception doesn’t compute because his knowledge is absolute. 

A sad, wobbling smile works across your mouth. “Not someone like me.” 

This time, he says nothing.

.

“What about that one?”

The dream in question is a creation between a unicorn and a butterfly. Golden shimmer drips from its body every time it moves, munching on virescent, tall grass. 

“I created it three hundred years ago.”

For nearly two hundred years, you’ve been slipping in and out of the Dreaming, and its ruler remains as frustrating as the first time you met. With Dream, some things are routine: his indulgence in your conversation, monotonous as he can sound during them; strolling through the Dreaming and meeting its many occupants, dreams and nightmares he’s crafted. 

It’s not quite chaperoning, but it’s not quite friendship, either. Dream permits you to visit, but you never stay long or are invited to do so. At best, he tolerates you. Which is still better than outright contempt. He’s holding something back. A wall between him and any other creation well and truly erect, utterly impenetrable. Dream Lord rules over his domain and follows his rules. Unchanged and preferring it that way. He savours his solitary existence, and it’s sad, in a way, because he lives in a place of such impossible beauty and wonder. 

You’ve learned some things about him with your visits. His love for his creations is fierce despite no sentimental displays toward them. He’s impersonal even to those you would assume he trusts the most, like Lucienne. He can, you’ve also found, be unforgiving to those who break his rules. It’s a necessity, not cruelty, but it doesn’t change the fact you’ve seen first-hand how he rules. 

“Wow, thank you for that riveting detail,” you drawl sarcastically, kicking a small rock in your path. “I’m feeling so inspired.” Leaning closer, you squint at him suspiciously, “Are you sure you’re not secretly Despair in there?”

Not a twitch of jaw or a quirk of his brows. “I am not.”

Pursing your lips, you grin gleefully, “Prove it.”

Dream doesn’t slow. On such occasions, he must surely consider you a nuisance at best, a pest at worst. None of it shows on his face. 

“What makes you believe I care about proving myself to someone like you?” he questions dryly.

He’s not endeavouring to insult you. To him, you must be no more than an exceedingly resilient ant. 

The path ahead is winding, with no visible end in sight, but a stone bridge sits in the far distance to the right. Over it, more marvels this world contains. Everything here is fantastical and beautiful and frightening all at once. You can’t get enough. You doubt you’ll ever be able to get enough of the Dreaming. Perhaps the most confusing thing is how readily Dream himself chooses to see this only as a duty. One he seemingly enjoys but not one to bring him much joy personally. You’ve never once seen him smile. 

He cuts for a lonely figure seated upon his throne. In a sprawling castle where his subjects choose to step out of his path rather than into it.     

“Then race me,” you challenge, spinning on your heels until you’re walking backwards. Another grin, toothy and exigent, bites into your cheeks. “Just to the bridge over there. Have some fun for once, Dream King.”

“I do not—”

But you’re sprinting ahead before he’s finished, a happy shriek piercing the air, “See ya!”

A kaleidoscope of colour blinds you, smears and twines around you—rich, syrupy power seeps into your skin and mouth as you sprint ahead with reckless abandon. In your acceleration, the edges of the Dreaming blur and expand; in those edges, Dream is everywhere. He is the Dreaming. He’s life and death, joy and terror, and—

Black blots the path ahead. Dream stands next to the bridge, regarding you impassively. But for a second, just one, you think there’s a brief glimmer of amusement at your gaping mouth and wide-eyed stare before it’s blinked away. 

“What—how—cheater.”

He nods towards the bridge, his demeanour as orderly as ever. “You never clarified the terms.”

.

“Does it ever get irritating? Doing this?”

Your thumb works through another page, legs crossed as you prop the thick volume on your knee. Muted candlelight illuminates the library, ink and paper thick in the air and your lungs. It’s quiet here. You talk because staying silent would make your eyes droop and your defences lower. This is your resting place, but it’s been at least a year or two since you’ve last spoken with Dream. It would be a shame to waste the opportunity.   

He doesn’t look up at you from whatever he’s working on. “No.”

Digging through your thoughts, you find another question, “Do you ever get bored?”

You’ve learned to read his minute tells. Days when he’s in the mood for your incessant questions and days when it’s better to sit with him in mutual quiet. Recognising this need has only helped you capitalise on moments such as these. 

A gargantuan wooden table separates you. Dream's messy hair is even wilder today, his head edging marginally in your direction to indicate he's paying attention. "This job is not boring. It is demanding, but someone must do it. That is why my siblings and I exist."

“Do you ever get lonely?”

That gives him a pause. A second pulse throbs through the library, perhaps the foundation of this world, which was built upon him, from him, and when the King of Dreams slowly raises his head to gaze at you, there’s mild consideration to be found in his features. 

“Do you, Wanderer?” he drawls quietly, and your heart stings, twisting in your ribcage. 

“Of course.” You’re not ashamed to admit it. You might have been once, but those parts of you have eroded away long ago. The same way you’ve felt your humanity start to corrode with years, a stone being worn down by an endless storm. Small creases appear around Dream’s eyes, possibly intrigued by your candour, so you add, “So much so that I often find it unbearable. I felt lonely for so long it’s like…”

Long silence stretches between you. You don’t realise your head has lowered back towards the pages until his deep voice reaches you across the quiet space, “Like what?”

Clearing your throat, you shrug your shoulders, pressing your chin briefly into your shoulder. “I don’t remember what not being alone feels like, you know?”

You avoid his stare prickling your cheek, refocusing on your novel. 

“You are not alone right now.”

You’re perfectly aware those words mean nothing. That he’s stating the obvious in the same empirical, matter-of-fact manner he often does. He’s right. After all, you’re not alone. You’re sharing this moment together. Two beings alive in the same instance, floating through an endless void of time and chances. A God and an ant. You’re so tiny when compared to him. Despite your brazen words and conduct, you’re a speck for someone like him and his siblings.

The Endless will be here until this universe ceases to exist. You will eat yourself alive one day. There's only one way this ends.

But until that day comes, Dream is right. You’re not alone.

You don’t glance his way, but you do smile. “Neither are you.”

notes: and that's a wrap. god, i'm so rusty when it comes to fics. I do hope to write more for this, the same way I'm hoping for more sandman in general. this will eventually hit canon timeline and potentially go into things past the show (recently bought the comics so I'll be starting them soonish). any thoughts, ideas, or want more? let me know & thank you for reading!!!

#the sandman #dream x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #netflix sandman #fic: today i bury you in me

[harmshake]

Sweetest Thing

While on a date with your boyfriend, Dirty Dom shows you just how sweet he can be.

Dominik Mysterio x Fem Reader | Fluffy fluff fluff but slight NSFW language | 1,276 words

a/n: Thank you for this request, @jazzbugsworld! Hope you like it. 😘

Happy reading! Read my other Dom stories here, if you'd like. ✨

Watching that drink splash all over Aalyah at ringside like Dom couldn't care less about his own sister was one of the craziest things you'd seen him do. The craziest was when he broke into his father's home to attack him and try to injure his already injured leg.

Yet that was his job. He got paid to act like the cruelest man to anyone who dared question his actions. And he was damn good at it.

What made it all crazier was how he could hold your hand on his lap as he sat next to you in the backseat of the Uber, his thumb softly stroking along yours as he leaned over to rest his head on your shoulder. The city lights beyond the window twinkled in the night as your driver took you and your boyfriend to your favorite restaurant, a delicious tapas bar where you couldn't wait to sink your teeth into some yummy croquetas de jamón and sip a refreshing Rebujito.

You were hungry after the long day you both had, accompanying Dom to a meet and greet and interview that lasted well after the host asked him his final question because they kept chatting about football and laughing about everything else under the sun as your boyfriend was amicable and charming with everyone. 

So charming that when he saw you from the corner of his eye at the back of the set waiting for him to wrap it up, he shot you a cute wink and smile before heading your way, slipping his arms around your waist, and telling you he'd make it up to you with an impromptu date night tonight.

That's when he told you to wear something you felt pretty in so he could show you off. Your grin grew all goofy as your cheeks blushed when he walked into the bedroom of the hotel you shared and told you how pretty you were in your pretty, pink, retro a-line dress and nude, ankle strap stilettos. Admittedly, you didn't wear heels very often as they tended to hurt your feet, but the way Dom's dark brown eyes studied you with an adorable smile made you feel good all over.

"Whoa. You look like a princesa, mami," he said as he twirled you around with his hand in yours before pulling you to him and landing a kiss on your lips.

His chin nuzzled your neck now as he planted a kiss there, too, and then your cheek as the driver lulled the car to a stop in front of the restaurant. And another to your lips again as you sat side by side in the booth, the low lighting glowing on his and your skin, and in your eyes as you gazed at him.

"You know you don't have to always pay. I do make my own money," you reminded him when the waiter brought the check and he swiped it before you could reach for it. Dom sucked his teeth with a smirk and you giggled as he pulled his wallet out from the back pocket of his black slacks.

"You think I'm lettin' my girl pay for anything when we're out? Think again," he replied and patted his hands on his chest in his blazer. "I gotchu, mami. Always."

You didn't want the night to end after dinner and neither did your boyfriend who took your suggestion that you two go for a little stroll to a nearby park. His hand found yours again as you left the tapas bar, feeling nice and light on your feet from your Rebujito and Dom sweet-talking you with his soft lips next to your ear, reminding you why you were head over heels for him.

The park was about a ten-minute walk yet by minute five your feet did what you feared they would in four-inch heels, throbbing with each step you took on the sidewalk beneath them.

"Ugh, I forgot how much I hate heels. It's what I get trying to be cute for you," you mumbled with a teasing smile as you halted and hunched over to yank off your shoes, the immediate relief making you sigh.

"No you are not gonna walk barefoot," Dom laughed as you tried to carry on with your stroll, tugging you back to him by your hips. You watched him then remove his shoes, a sleek pair of black leather loafers, that he handed to you as he grabbed your heels dangling from your wrist by the straps. "Wear these at least, baby. Pretty sure walkin' on this hard-ass sidewalk isn't gonna make your feet hurt less."

You took them, looking down at his long feet in black socks and then at his loafers with a chuckle jumping out of you. "So you want me to flop around in these? They'll be like clown shoes on me, babe," you said and made him chuckle, too. "My feet aren't that big...unless that's what you're trying to say."

"You know it's not...but if you won't wear 'em, let's try this." Dom handed you back your heels before he filled his hands with you, one hooked behind your knees and the other around your shoulders, swiftly sweeping you off your feet. You let out a little, surprised squeal as he held you to his chest and carried you. You tried to tell him to let you down with a few wriggles and giggles, but he shushed you with one kiss on your forehead before he grinned and declared, "You're my baby so I don't mind holdin' you like one."

The city lights dwindled the closer you got to the park, the stars in the sky lighting the rest of the way as Dom found a bench to carefully sit you down on before he joined you. His arm slid around you to hold you to him again as your head fell to his chest, your eyes following the glistening ripples in the dark, glittering lake in front of you. The night was so quiet and calm that you could hear those ripples gently purling at the dewy, grassy shore.

You could also hear your boyfriend's heartbeat softly pounding and his hushed breath when he hummed your name. "Yes, baby?" you hummed back with your hand finding his on his lap once more to hold.

"You don't think I do too much sometimes, do you?" His baritone voice was filled with a sudden shyness that made you glance up at him. He met your eyes and you were shocked to see his cheeks a little red. "Like, do you get annoyed when I do things for you? I know you got your own shit, but I don't know...I like to try and spoil you."

The past year you met and been with Dom was one of the happiest years of your life because of how he took care of you. While it was an adjustment as you had always taken care of yourself just fine, your boyfriend's love and kindness were something you never wanted to take for granted.

"You aren't trying to spoil me. You do." You squeezed his hand in yours and used your other to brush the backs of your fingers along his cheek which was still warm and touched with pink. "You are the sweetest thing, baby. You are everything to me."

Dom's cheeks then spread with the sweetest smile that had you smiling back almost instantly, had you feeling crazy about him all over again, especially when he let you know he was just as crazy about you as he said, "You're my sweet thing...you're my everything, mi amor."

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Thanks for reading! 💜

Tagging: @wrestlingprincess80 @iguessilikewrestlingnow @theninthwonder @visionarymode @twocentuar @southerngirl41 @seeingstarks @2-muchsauce @afterdarkprincess @sassginaswanmills (If you like Dom fics, let me know if you'd like to be added to this tag list!)

#dominik mysterio #dirty dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio fanfiction #dominik mysterio imagine #dominik mysterio one shot #dominik mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio x you #black writers #spilled ink