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houseofanticipation · 7 months

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You're sitting with your friend Sam at a coffee shop, catching up. She's telling you about an instagram ad she keeps getting for some audiobook streaming service. "It's just crazy," she says, "because I was just telling Lucille I wanted to start reading more books but I never have the time, and then it's like instantly I'm getting these ads all the time."

"So what," you say over your steaming mug, "you think they're listening to you?"

Sam shakes her head. "Honestly I think it's almost scarier than that. They have so much information about us, they don't even need to listen to our conversations. They just know, based on everything they've gathered about me, that I'm probably someone who wants to listen to audiobooks."

"Well they can't be that smart," you say. "Because the only ads I've been getting lately are for something called Slut Cream."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You must know I'm going to need more details."

You take out your phone and find an ad to show her. It's not difficult; literally all of the ads you see on instagram are like this. They're even showing up in other places now, on webpages you visit or apps you use. This one is one you've seen before: a beautiful woman in a crop top that just barely covers her nipples is proudly displaying a squeeze tube of the kind you'd buy sunscreen or toothpaste in. The caption says, "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle! Step up your slut game with Slut Cream! Shop Now"

"I don't even know what slut cream is," you say. "All you get when you look it up is a bunch of porn."

"Well, obviously it's a way to step up your slut game," says Sam sagely. "What does it say on the website?"

"Oh, I'm not clicking the link," you say. "I don't want to encourage them! What I want to know is why suddenly this ad is all I can seem to see!"

Sam shoots you a wink. "Maybe you're just a slut. These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."'

What neither of you know is that it's actually quite easy to buy online ad space, and they let you get pretty specific with your intended audience.

I live in the next apartment over from you. I've been watching you for a long time, studying you, listening to you through our shared wall. We've talked a few times, some terse conversation at the mailboxes or in the hall, which is how I knew enough about you to place those ads, with audience parameters so specific that probably only you and about five other people would see them. I had fun making them; hiring the model to do the photoshoot, dusting off the skills I picked up in that college graphic design course, creating a website for this fake business (though I'm disappointed you still haven't clicked through to see it). If you actually tried to buy slut cream, the website would tell you we're currently closed due to high traffic, and to check back later. Nowhere on the website does it explain what slut cream is.

A number of strange things happen to you over the course of the following day. On your lunch break you walk down the block to the deli by your office. You're in here every weekday, but today the energy here is different. People are staring you, side-eyeing you, having whispered conversations that stop abruptly when you get too close. As you're walking back to work, an old woman spits on the ground as you pass, you'd swear you heard the word "whore!" hissed under her breath. You wonder if you should say something, stand up for yourself, but she's elderly, probably confused, and you decide to be the bigger person.

In the hours after lunch, you're propositioned by no less than seven of your male coworkers. You've had to refuse a few invitations to dinner in your time, but seven in a day is completely out of the ordinary, and the things these men are offering to do to you go way outside the bounds of first date stuff. One guy tells you the conference room is empty, if you want to go for a quick fuck; another guy tells you he hasn't cum in a month, and if you sucked his cock he'd pump so much cum down your throat that you wouldn't need to eat dinner. Your boss even tells you he and his wife are looking for a third and he thought of you first, like he's offering you a big promotion. The strangest thing is that all of these men seem genuinely surprised when you turn them down. Like this sort of thing usually works with girls. One guy even says, "sorry, I was just trying to help."

It was pretty easy to hire actors for the deli and the street. You go to the same place every day, so I knew where they'd have to go and roughly when they'd need to be there. The harder part was getting your coworkers to play along, especially because I was picky about getting people who could sell the act. For a few of them all it took was money. A few of them I had to blackmail. For your boss I had to call in a favor, get his boss to threaten his job. He protested, but I think it made his cock hard, thinking about fucking you alongside his wife.

I keep this up for a few weeks. Anywhere you go I have people watching you, talking about you behind your back. I have people approaching you on the train, at the park, in restaurants, offering to fuck you like they're doing you a favor. You stay firm in your refusal—I wouldn't have expected any less from you—but I can tell it's beginning to eat at you. I watch you try to figure out what you're doing that seems to give all these people the wrong idea about you; you start to dress more modestly, talk less, even walk a little less confidently. But none of this will change anything. All it will do is make you feel more repressed.

After a month, I decide it's time to make my move. I could probably wait longer, but the anticipation is getting too much for me, and besides, you're beginning to get a little wild around the eyes. I'd hate to break you before I've had my fun. One evening, when I know you're home, I unlock your apartment with the duplicate key I had made two months ago. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes with headphones on; you didn't hear me come in. I leave the door open as I approach you, admiring the way you shake your ass to whatever it is you're listening to. I get right up behind you and stay there for a moment, lavishing in your innocence, feeling my cock strain at my belt as I imagine taking it away from you. Then I reach around front of you with both arms and plunge my hand into your panties

You shout in shock, fight back, try to push me off as the headphones fall off your head. But I've got you pinned against the counter, my full body weight against you, one hand down your pants, the other groping your breasts. Once you realize that fighting won't help, you stop struggling and ask me what I want. "Please," you say. Just hearing that quiver in your voice almost makes me delirious with lust. "Please, let me go. I don't want this, please."

I bury my face in your neck, kissing and breathing you in. You smell incredible, like fear and sweat and sex. I bring my lips up to your ear, let them brush against you as I speak. "Of course you want this, baby. You've been trying so hard to hide it, but you don't have to hide with me. Look, you left the door open for me." I let you turn your head enough to see the door hanging open just as my fingers find your clit. I'm rubbing you gently, tenderly, just the way I've watched you touch yourself through the webcam I have in your room. My other hand is under your shirt now and I'm squeezing your breast, rolling your nipple between my fingers, feeling it slowly grow full and erect. You try to stifle a soft moan and I kiss your neck again. "It's okay, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to want to feel good. Let me make you feel good."

You clutch your face in your hands and let out a cry of frustration and humiliation and agony and pleasure. You barely know me; I'm the guy next door who sometimes looks at you a little too long. The guy you speed up to avoid in the hall. But that feeling radiating from you clit... You think how exhausting it's been, doing everything you could think of to change people's perception of you, get them to stop looking at you as a slut, how none of it has done you any good anyway. You wonder if you'd have had more fun fucking Jim in the conference room, or swallowing Dylan's cum, or having a threesome with your boss and his wife. And that throbbing in your clit, the agonizing pleasure...You remember that beautiful woman in the ad: "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle!" You think about how happy she looked, how fulfilled. You remember Sam's words: "These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."

It does feel good, doesn't it? To let me touch you, pleasure you, to let go of this act you've been holding on to. Isn't it okay to want to feel good? Why did you ever let anyone make you ashamed of that? You try out another moan, letting the pleasure well up through your chest and out your mouth. It feels good, so you try another, and another, and then you're leaning back into me, grinding up against me, delighting in the feeling of my hard cock against your ass.

"Good," I say. "You're letting go of those silly hang-ups. Now we can have our real fun." My hands still around you, controlling you, I half lead-half carry your trembling body to the bedroom. I throw you on the bed, face up so I can get a good look at your eyes, see what I've done to your mind. Those same eyes that have avoided me in the hall so many times now gaze hungrily up at me, wanting me, needing me.

Who am I do decline?

I pull off your pants and panties as a single unit, letting you take care of your shirt for yourself. I kick of my own bottoms, letting my throbbing cock slap against your leg as it springs from its confinement. Don't think I don't notice the way your whole body shivers when it touches you. I lift your legs and push your knees up towards your ears; you're remarkably flexible. It must be all that yoga I've watched you do at the place downtown. I've greatly enjoyed your visits to that place, so it's nice to see they weren't in vain.

You're afraid of me, all of a sudden. Maybe some part of you is seeing sense, realizing you'd have to be crazy to let a guy like me come into your home and fuck you like this. But what was the alternative? Have me rape you? Let me tell you, darling: I would have raped you. You feel the head of my cock gliding over your skin, exploring your inner thighs and pubic area, and tremble at my touch. I want this, you tell yourself. This is what a slut like me needs.

All the same, you cry a little bit when I penetrate you. It's not because it hurts—it does hurt a bit, but you're wet enough, and it's not entirely a bad pain. It's not because you're afraid—well, maybe in part, but that's not the core of it. You cry because you're finally letting go. Letting go of the person you used to be, or thought you were. It's the relief of knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, wrapped up with the mourning you feel when you lose a potential version of yourself. I lean across you as my cock fills you up, and tenderly, I kiss away your tears. "Hush, my darling. I'm here. I will always be here. I will love you despite what you are, when everyone else turns away in disgust."

My weight on you feels good, comforting. The way I press down on your legs, stretching you out, driving my cock so deep inside you that it brushes your cervix. It hurts a little, but is that any better than you deserve? Could a slut like you really expect to find better than this? Better than unconditional love and a desire to give you the pleasure you need?

I'm speeding up now, my face something like an animal, furious and insistent as I gaze down at you. There's darkness behind my eyes, you think, something cold and cruel. You thank God I'm on your side. My hips are like a hammer on your pelvis now, and with each thrust you feel my cock bulging inside you, throbbing and pulsating with anticipation. When I finally plant my seed in you, groaning and growling and pressing you further into the bed, you find there's something comforting about the warmth of my cum inside you. Maybe my seed will take root, make you swell up with me, make you mine. As I roll off you, huffing and panting, the tears begin to stream down your face again, this time from joy.

What did a slut like you ever do to deserve someone who loves you like I do?

#r@pe fantasy #r@pe kink #cvmslvt #cvmdump #rapekink #rapetoy #breeding toy #mind conditioning

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runningfrom2am · 17 days

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cold nights // part thirty

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: guys i've been listening to this playlist again and it actually still tears me apart every time i think ab them. anyway lol enjoy!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coryo hadn't seen you in a while, he thought you would be back after going to get water but you never returned. He could only bear Livia and Festus for so long before he couldn't take it anymore, leaving to go look for you.

He's scanning the room for your white dress and your angel wings, the telltale tones of your hair, or any other sign of you when Sejanus walks up, standing next to him. "Looking for your girlfriend?" He asks, leaning close to him to make sure he could be heard in the loud room.

"Do you know where she is?" Coryo asks, not giving him another look.

"Yep." Sejanus nods, lips pressed together in a thin line. "She's in my bedroom bawling her eyes out."

Coryo's head swivels to look at him, eyes wide. "What? What happened?" He frowns, not waiting for Sejanus to answer before he begins striding toward the stairs. "Did someone say something to her?"

"Yeah, you did, actually." Sejanus replies as he follows after him, the bitterness in his tone suddenly obvious to his friend as he stops in his tracks.

"What? No, I-" Coryo stammers, looking down at your friend as he steps in front of him to block his path. "What... what did I do? Did she tell you?"

"Lyssie came and found me, and I went to talk to her. The gist of it is that she's suddenly realizing how you're embarrassed of her."

"What?" Coryo asks again, his anger and confusion shifting into sadness as his eyes soften.

Sejanus shrugs a bit. "That's just what I was told."

"No," Coryo insists. "That's not... That's not what it is, not at all."

"Isn't it?" Your friend asks, raising an eyebrow at him. "That you won't tell anyone, that you're keeping her a secret? That you told people she's nothing more than your tribute? After all this time? I can't think of another reason you would treat her like this."

"Of course you can't!" Coryo spits, anger suddenly returning. "You're so caught up in your rebellious bullshit that you can't think ahead, can you? Sejanus- if anyone finds out they'll crucify her! They'll do the same to me! Our lives will be ruined if that gets out at the wrong time!"

Sejanus rolls his eyes. "Her life, or yours?" He asks. "She'll be sent home. Everyone loves her too much to kill her. The worst case scenario for her is that she gets sent home to live her life as normal- with her family and friends. Happy, back in Twelve. The worst for you is that you'd have to decide whether or not you love her enough to go with her."

Coryo opens his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when he finds he doesn't have an adequate response.

"You're taking every extra effort to turn her into everything you are. Forcing her to become me- a District kid who had to leave their life behind for nothing more than the money just so you can have her without people looking at you funny, but have you ever asked her what she actually wants? I didn't have a choice, but Y/N does. You just won't give it to her."

He has never seen Sejanus this angry before.

"You know she had to leave. She didn't have a choice." Coryo says through gritted teeth.

Sejanus shakes his head, laughing dryly. "It's not about that, Coriolanus. That didn't mean she had to pack up her life and never return- she never needed to change who she was, but look at her! She's doing everything she can to fit in with you and your life!"

"I did what we had to do because you never can! You only ever think of yourself! The world doesn't work the way you want it to, and you can't stand it. I get that, but we want the same thing. I just know how to get it. She needs people to listen to her- so we can actually stop the games, do you think they'll listen to her if she doesn't play pretend for a while?"

Sejanus huffs in frustration. "If you're not going to listen to me, fine, but don't do this to her." He shakes his head. "At the very least you could have explained why you were lying to her."

"I've never lied to her!" Her answers impulsively- he's sure he has, but not with the intention to hurt you. Never to hurt you. "Look at what happened when she found out, huh?" Coryo gestures vaguely up the hall. "I'm just trying to protect her. That's all I care about! That's it!"

"If you had just told her that from the beginning she wouldn't be hurting like this. You know that, Coryo."

"Okay, and I'm going to explain right now. So leave me alone." He grumbles, moving to push past Sejanus, who quickly stops him, giving him a knowing look.

"Sejanus, get out of my way."

"No," Sejanus states. "Because you're not the only one who cares about her, and right now, I'm the one protecting her."

Coryo grits his teeth together, breathing heavily as he looks at your friend in the quiet hall, music echoing from seemingly everywhere else in the house. He hates considering that Sejanus could be right.

There's a warm breeze that's serving to keep you cool while you walk through the market, dripping wet from head to toe. Your hair is clinging to the skin of your neck and back, allowing you some freedom from the heat as you hold onto Coryo's hand.

With your clothes soaked and stuck to your skin, you could at least convince yourself that was why people were staring.

"So, how often do you do this?" Coryo asks, unable to help but to laugh as he looks down at you.

"Only during a heat wave." You shrug, already scanning the street for the shops you needed to stop at. You had offered to pick up groceries for your Ma, considering the heat and the walk would have made it difficult. At least you could make it fun, and you would have some company.

"Makes sense." He chuckles. He had to admit, the dampness of his clothes was helpful in keeping him cool. It almost made up for the lack of air conditioning in the District.

"The goal is to get home before we dry off." You explain. "Lennox and I play this game sometimes."

Before he can reply, you're dropping his hand and walking over to one of the stalls.

"Y/N, it's been a while." The woman working states, smiling at you somewhat nervously.

"Yes, well, I'm back to business as usual now." You smile, pulling the empty glass bottle from the bag at your side and holding it out to her. "Or at least tryin' my very best."

"I can see that." She chuckles, shaking her head as she takes the bottle. "No Lennox today?" She asks, preparing to fill it up with milk.

"No ma'am." You smile, shaking your head and digging in your pocket for the change you brought and placing it in front of her on the table. "He's off getting into some kind of trouble, I'm sure."

"Take good care of him, will ya? He's a good kid." She hands the now full bottle back to you with a sealed cap.

"Yes, ma'am." You nod, tucking it back into your bag. "Thank you."

She nods at you and you're on your way down again, Coryo allowing you to pull him along as you grab his hand.

You go stall to stall, picking up everything your mother asked for as your shoulder bag steadily fills and Coryo takes it from you to carry instead. He was much stronger now than he was when you first met him- the Plinth Prize had fed him well in every sense of the word.

You look up as you near the end of the street, surrounded by locals who are talking and shouting all the same. The market on a Saturday always was busy, and today was no exception.

"What is it?" Coryo asks, looking at you as you freeze in the street and a smile steadily grows on your face.

"Listen." You tell him, tuning in on the steady clapping coming from the end of the street. When he puts in a little bit of focus, he can just make out the music.

By the time he does, you're grabbing his hand again and pulling him toward the source of the familiar sounds.

The crowd parts around you when you get close enough, and by now Coryo recognizes the band playing as the Covey. There are people dancing in the street despite the heat, sweating and laughing and having fun. It takes a moment for him to notice you being pulled away by little Maude Ivory, who had set down her hip drum to come dance with you.

The smile on your face was simply unmatched, lighting up the shadows cast by the buildings where the sun couldn't quite reach. You hardly even seem to notice when the people dancing around you cleared away, and it was now just you and the little girl who Coryo speculates didn't even know where you had disappeared to for most of July.

You come to a slow stop as you look around, your smile fading as the music continues.

"Thinkin' you're so fine, thinkin' you could have mine..."

Coryo couldn't just watch this. He was far from a dancer himself, but he'd be damned if he let a bunch of idiots dampen your mood because of something you couldn't control.

"Thinkin' you're in control, thinkin' you'll change me, maybe rearrange me,"

You hardly hear your favourite part of the song you loved as you're focussed on Coryo taking the spot of Maude Ivory who's carrying your bag of shopping and placing it down next to their instrument cases and picking her drum back up.

"Think again if that's your goal!"

The extent of Coryo's dance experience was limited to ballroom, and that showed as he quickly raised your hand to spin you. The sunshine smile that finds its way back onto your face while you twirl around under his hand makes his fears of being a bad dancer disappear in an instant, and others must be feeling the same way as the crowd begins to clap and cheer for the two of you.

It was only another beat before others were dancing again, and someone had taken the liberty of breaking a nearby fire hydrant to spray everyone on the street. Now, your clothes were freshly wet and you didn't stand out so much anymore as Coriolanus took a hold of your waist and dipped you just as the music came to a halt.

He smiled as he looked down at you, frozen in the moment with your wet hair hanging down toward the street and your chest rising and falling quickly. Your eyes were closed, cheeks rosy and flushed, and Coriolanus Snow felt like he was on top of the world.

You wake up in Sejanus's bed in the morning, the satin dress that was part of your costume clinging uncomfortably to your skin under his blankets to accompany the horrible plague of sadness that didn't even give you a moment to breathe. Staring at the ceiling and processing your consciousness, you were disappointed with the memory that presented itself as a dream.

Disappointed in yourself for thinking you could have him, really have him, and foolish for thinking he was actually looking past where you were from. But you had made him a promise that was haunting you.

"Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love; and I'll no longer be a Capulet."

He would not give up who he was, but he claimed to love you. His stance was clear, and now it was your turn. Give up the District, or give up him.

When the buzzer rings signifying there is someone at the door in the afternoon, Coryo is flying to the receiver and praying it's you. "Hello?"

He's extremely disappointed when it's Sejanus Plinth's voice that he hears instead. "I'm here for the cat."

Coryo sighs, knocking the side of his fist against the wall as a quiet way to vent his frustration. "No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Sejanus spits, voice crackling through the speaker. "He's Y/N's cat-"

"I mean, no. I'm not giving you her cat. He lives here. She lives here. She'll come back." Coriolanus interrupts him, and he's met by deafening silence.

"Coryo-" He sighs, and the pity traveling with his tone up through the walls onto the twelfth floor is what sets him off.

"If she wants her damn cat she can come get him herself." The cat in question is purring and brushing up against his leg as he practically shouts into the wall, letting go of the button before scooping Tybalt up and walking back to his room.

He wasn't angry at you, he knew that much. He was angry at the world for forcing him to make the decisions he did- he was angry at Sejanus for not letting him speak to you last night, and more than anything, he was angry at himself.

Coriolanus Snow was never one to admit when he was feeling afraid. He had never been very good with feelings outside of the basics. He knew he loved Tigris, and now you, and he knew anger and frustration like the back of his hand, but fear- fear was a whole new beast. When it came to recognizing and acknowledging it, anyway.

When it came to you, you were everything to him. Since the moment Coryo first laid his eyes on you, you occupied every ounce of his thoughts. You and your astonishing mind, your body, your everything was like a chronic illness that he never wanted to be cured of, an illness that shamelessly followed him around- gnawing at any other area of his brain that wasn't you until you fully dominated his thoughts altogether. He had never craved anything more, no amount of power could ever make him as satisfied as he is when looking at you.

And that is what terrified him. That losing you meant so much more than losing his path to the presidency. As he places Tybalt on his bed and crawls back under the covers with your cat to rot in his own regrets, he realizes he doesn't give the slightest fuck about his future. Not if it doesn't include you.

So why had he done this at all?

You couldn't call home. You wanted to, you were supposed to, but you couldn't talk to your parents. Put on a smile and tell them everything is fine even when you were calling from the Plinth mansion and you hadn't been back at the Snow's in a day. God forbid this is the day Lennox decides to speak to you again- you couldn't lie to him, and he wouldn't be pleased.

When Sejanus comes back to the large homey mansion empty-handed, you couldn't say you were surprised.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. He's holding Tybs hostage." He tells you, attempting a lighthearted joke while he watches you clean up cups and decorations.

"That's alright." You reply quietly. "He's happy there, they're good friends."

"No, he's being childish. He can't leverage your cat against you."

"Well, it doesn't matter much. I will go back tonight." Sej's eyes go wide at your statement.

"You're kidding." Is all he can offer in response as you casually continue to take down decorations, piling them on the coffee table to dispose of all at once.

You shake your head, turning to look at him fully with a reassuring smile. "Yes, it is totally fine. I'll just help clean up before I go."

"No!" Your friend protests. "Are you not angry? He's been lying to you- he's embarrassed of us, is what it seems like to me. That's not fair to you. Not one bit, Y/N."

He had seen your pain last night. Felt it, even, and he knows that even a good night's sleep could not have solved that- but he also knew that you were a preacher of forgiveness and clung to it like a vice. You would forgive Coriolanus whether you really should or not.

"Never anger made good guard for itself."

"Y/N... Please." Sejanus replies, shaking his head at your saddened smile. "Stay here. Just for a couple of days. I am begging you to think about yourself and what you need for once."

You sigh, giving him a slight nod. If you were being totally honest, you did not want to go back yet. You just needed time.

It was such a relief to be able to finally relax, even if it was just for a few days. You lounged around in Sej's spare pyjamas, curled up in his Ma's library while she and her husband were back in District Two on some alleged business that your friend did not care to know much about. It was very much not your concern anyway.

The point of your couple days off was to not care about others, not care about the problems of the world and the mistakes you have made but instead to just enjoy the company of the books stacked high on shelves in the Plinth's mansion.

So far, a dusty book in surprisingly incredible condition had been keeping you company for the better part of the morning. Little Women. It was captivating- far from the love stories that typically drew your attention, but you couldn't tear your nose from between the pages.

You had to, eventually, when you heard your name being shouted by your best friend from downstairs. You tuck an envelope from the table next to you in between the pages and make your way down the long hall, already excited to tell him about what may very well be your new favourite book.

"Sej?" You call out, having lost track of where the voice had come from as you head for the front hall. You were aware he was leaving only to go pick up something for breakfast at a bakery he said was his favourite, one you had never been to, but that had been quite some time ago. As you walk toward the foyer assuming that's where you would find him, you guess there must have been a long lineup. "Sej, I have to tell you about the book I found!"

You couldn't keep your raving in as you round the corner, already flipping once more through the pages in preparation for citing to him some of your favourite parts while you ate breakfast.

You look up when you sense the shadow of more than one person at the door, expecting to see his parents, having returned early from their trip. Instead, your heart stops in your chest. It's Lennox. Rigid, nothing but a backpack slung over his shoulder as he stares at you. You hadn't heard from him in months, despite all your best efforts.

The book in your hand clatters to the floor and before you know it your arms are around your brother's neck, holding onto him for dear life. You hear his bag drop to the ground beside you before his arms are around your waist, firm as he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

"When I am from thee every place is distant..." You say into his shirt, gripping the back of it in your hands.

"I missed you too." Lennox mumbles.

"I'm sorry... I am so sorry." You tell him quietly and you feel him shake his head before he pulls back just to look at you.

"Don't you apologize to me." He says strictly. "Don't you dare." The tears pooling on his lash line make yours spill over again. "I'm sorry. I should be sorry."

You hug him again, and now it is your turn to shake your head. "Let's just agree to forgive each other so we can just be happy we're together..."

"Deal." He sniffs, patting your back before letting you go again to pick his bag up off the floor.

"What... what are you doing here?" You ask with a slight laugh, wiping your eyes quickly. "Howdid you get here?"

Your brother nods toward Sejanus, who you now realize was just forced to watch the whole exchange. "Sejanus called the house the other night." He explains. "Said you were havin' a real rough time, so I hopped on the freight car of the peacekeeper's train first thing in the morning."

Which means he would be here for the month- and immediately you couldn't be more relieved or excited.

"Thank you." You nod at him, turning now to give your best friend a hug. "Thank you for doing that..." You whisper and he nods, gently rubbing your back.

"Of course, Y/N/N."

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie, @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

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ysrjune · 10 days

Note

sam monroe smut with chubby reader🙏 PLEASE

She hates her weight but sam loves it and one day she’s crying because of a remark smby made and he comforts her :’)

Sam held you in his arms while you cried about something some girl said about your weight at school earlier. “Come on, beautiful, stop crying. You shouldn’t care about what that bitch has to say about you, she’s just mad she’s not as gorgeous as you.” He tried comforting you while rubbing your arm.

“But she’s right!” you continue to sob. “I try so hard to feel good about my body and stuff, but people just keep on commenting on it.” Sam could break into tears hearing his sweet girl talk bad about herself. He hated hearing about how much you hated your body because he loved it. He loved resting his hand on your tummy. He loved to squeeze your rolls.

To him, all that wasn't disgusting at all. He loved his chubby girl. The way your cheeks were so full, too, melted his heart. Especially when you'd smile. “Well, I don't think anything negative about your body. God, your body is literally worth worshipping, baby.” His hand trailed down to your plushy thighs.

You knew that. You knew Sam was obsessed with not just your body, but everything else about you. Even before you two were dating, he never made a negative comment about your weight. That was one of the reasons you started liking him in the first place. Every other guy you were friends with before Sam would say something atleast once about your body.

“That's real sweet of you, Sam, but I don't think so.” You hold his hand, sniffling. Your boyfriend shakes his head and forces you to lay on him. “Nah, I mean it. Just cause you have a tummy and a couple of rolls doesn't make you any less attractive, angel face.” He kissed your forehead and sat up against the headboard so that you were sitting on him properly.

“So cute, could just eat you up.” He quickly states and started sucking on your neck, leaving small kisses as well. “Sam—” You giggled at the sensation of his lips on your neck. “Stop, that tickles,” You try pushing his face awah from you, but he wouldn't budge. He did stop eventually, thank goodness. You look at your phone to open the camera to see how many hickeys he had left.

“4? Really, Sam?” You give him an unamused look even though you thought it was kinda funny. “You don't get it, huh?” His hand went down to your breast, holding onto it gently. “Just cause a couple of people tell you things about your body doesn't mean others don't find you attractive. I've seen a couple dorks check you out. Even when you're with me.” He rolled his eyes at the memory of it.

“Starin’ at your ass and thighs.” He says as both his hands travel to your ass. “‘least they know they can't have what's already mine.” He smirked, giving your ass a squeeze. “Ugh, you're such a pervert.” You reply playfully but also gently, slapping him. “Yeah, you like it, though. First time we fucked was because I was being a pervert and it turned you on.” He reminds you, sliding down your shorts.

“That didn't mean anything..” You blush at a little bit, feeling the way his fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts to pull them down. “Then what's happening right now? Are you sure you're not already soaked by me doing the bare minimum?” He whispers, looking up to you with those pretty blue eyes that were smudged with eyeliner.

You didn't want to answer that. He already knew it, so why is he asking? How could someone not get so turned on by a hot emo guy. Especially one that knows how to use his dick. He wasn't just good at using that, though. His fingers and his mouth were great, too.

Though, at first, he wasn't exactly as good as he is now. The first time he fingered you, he had no idea what he was doing. The first time he ate you out? He didn't know lots about that either despite all the porn he watched. It took him a couple times to get it all right, and by the 4th time he tried fingering/eating you out, he was real good at it.

The first time he stuck his dick in you, he came almost immediately and was so embarrassed about it, but that didn't stop him from continuing to thrust in and out of you. You wouldn't ever forget that moment cause once he came, he made the cutest little whimper ever. His face was flushed, and his eyebrows were pinched together, moaning and panting.

That was the first time he ever had sex, too. It felt so good, he didn't wanna stop even after cumming 3 more times. He was also just so obsessed with the wet noises your pussy would make with every thrust. Every moan you let out gave him less reason to stop.

“What, cat got your tongue? Can't tell me that your panties and practically stuck to that pretty pussy?” He snaps you out of your trance. “Mm, no.. was just thinking.”, “About what?” By this time, he already had you in only your bra and underwear, taking in the sight before him.

“The first time we fucked..” You admit to him, feeling his boner. “Fuck, you had me feelin’ so good that night, princess.” You help him out of his shorts, revealing his hard cock since he had no boxers on underneath. You rubbed the tip, making his hips jerk up a little bit. “Moaning your name like a little bitch ‘n shit.” He moved his hips against your fingers.

He shifted himself to where his dick met the fabric of your panties. Sam started thrusting against them, letting out small moans. “Please let me feel like that again, babe. please please please let me fuck you. I've been waiting so damn long.” It had been almost a month since you've had sex with him.

You thought of riding him so you could see his pretty face get all scrunched up when hes about to cum, but you remembered how much of a thing he had for you arching your back for him. “Should blow my back out.” You kiss his cheeks while he still thrusted against your clothed clit. “Mm, I'd love that.”

So, here you were. Moaning out his name into a pillow, but also hearing those cute noises of his. “Shit, shit, shit,” He moaned, smacking your ass and watching it jiggle with every thrust he made. “Yeah, mhm, you're so pretty, sweet girl. Mm, could do this forever.” He suddenly flipped you around and placed his hand on your tummy.

“You're so soft, oh my God.” He squeezed it a little, then moved his hand to your puffy cheeks. “So pretty,” He whimpered, letting you know he was close. “Uh—fuck. ‘m so close. Oh, you're so good.”, “So. Fucking. Good.” He thrusted with every word.

“Sam, Im gonna cum!” You hold onto his arm. “Gonna cum? So do it then, baby. Cum all over my cock, beautiful. Can do it, come on.” He led you on until he felt you tighten around him and release yourself onto his dick. It took him a few more thrusts to cum, but once he did, he pulled out and lay on you, hands grabbing onto your titties.

“Fuck, princess.” He panted and slid down to kiss your tummy, thighs, and everywhere that you were insecure. “Don't ever call yourself unattractive. I'd rather have my cuddly, chubby girlfriend than any other girl.”

Your boyfriend was truly the sweetest.

#hayden christensen #sam monroe #life as a house #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe drabble #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe smut #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe x chubby!girlfriend

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kairiscorner · 8 months

Text

question of the day: who would fall the hardest if they ever fell in love?

well... i've got 4 candidates in mind, and i think... (4/4)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

hobie brown. — guilty of falling hard for you.

summary: hobie never thought that he'd feel anything more than a friendly feeling with you–and he never wants that feeling to end. pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader genre: fluff !!

hobie brown does not care about labels, they do nothing but confine him to one facet of himself, and he finds that utterly displeasing. he's finally able to live his life with such bohemian freedom that he doesn't wanna let go of it by conforming to what people think of him. though, there is one label he doesn't mind considering as the truth... being the boy who loves you the most.

hobie brown has always seen eye-to-eye with you, despite being strangers not too long ago. the minute he met you, he could tell here was something special about you; maybe it was the way you talked, the way you walked, the way you laughed, your personality, your determination to never give up so easily... but whatever it was, you had him hooked on you.

hobie brown had never met anyone quite like you, and that was the best part about you--you had your own uniqueness, your own spark about you. every time he thinks he knows everything about you, he's suddenly thrown into another world, another side of you that he had never seen before and inevitably got blown away by.

hobie brown loves how you're like a firecracker--colorful, unpredictable, fiery, and hot--you're full of surprises that only he knows about, you're full of life and vigor and he gets more and more interested in you the more he sees you this way.

hobie brown can't believe, though, how easy it is for him to just like you. everyone at the spider society, every one of his close friends, all love you, that's for sure. but what he can't believe is how innate liking you seemed to him; it came as easy as breathing and blinking, as natural as it was for his heart to beat and for his brain to function.

hobie brown was sure that you weren't just anyone, no, you were... ethereal, you weren't ordinary; and nobody thought you were ordinary, you were aware of that. you were never one to comply with what society declared you should appear or act as, you were you, and that was the person hobie was most fond of: the real you.

hobie brown found himself tinkering with a new gizmo he had going on, he was a little anxious while making this, in complete honesty. he hadn't always been confident that every machine he makes'll work out the way he wants them to or even work at all, but he's accepted failure as part of the process. what he's anxious of is... if you'll like it.

hobie brown is shaking in the knees right now, but he's trying to play it cool, to shake that shaking out of his joints and act as calm and composed as he usually does around you, but it's too hard. it's too hard to calm around literally the most perfect person in the world that looks up to you and calls you their closest pal and who also has the sweetest laugh and smile in the world and the most perfect personality that anybody could ever seek for in a lover.

hobie brown is conflicting with himself right now, and this hasn't happened to him in years. hobie's muttering to himself the lines he practiced, trying to run by himself how being cool was supposed to be, because when he's trying to get a grasp of himself back in his mind, his mind defaults to thoughts of you.

hobie brown is blanking out right now, finally faced with you. he clears his throat and involuntarily flashes you a tiny, quivering grin. he's stuttering and stammering, which is quite uncharacteristic of him, but he was always unexpectedly cute no matter how he carried himself.

hobie brown finally says 'screw it' and clears his throat for the final time. "now, i... i might sound ridiculous right now, but... i remember you said you had a music box as a kid back then, always played the melody you hummed and taught me way back when we first met. a-and, well... i'm not the most skilled artist in the world, but, i'm your artisan, like you say. and this artisan hopes... that you like it." he said as he handed you a little box colored in your favorite hues with all kinds of colored papers, paints, and little designs on them with a wind-up dial on its side.

hobie brown anxiously watches you open up the box, and as he takes your hands in his to show you how to wind-up the dial, a couple of cats were on the little pedestal that popped up and twirled slowly as a soft beat from a song in your childhood played.

hobie brown smiled wider as he watched you grin and chuckle at the adorable little thing, he felt his heart skip a beat or two when he realized you were happy seeing this, having this in your hand, hearing those familiar notes from your childhood... and it was also here, when you told him a 'thank you' that his world became brighter. he got a bit heated in the face, his smile unwavering but instead growing, and he nodded as you leaned closer against him. he's decided, finally, that he indeed, does love you; and from that love... he fell, and fell hard for you, wanting to see that smile of yours every day not because of the music box or anything he gives you, but because of him. that is all hobie wants and needs in his life, that is all he yearns for to be complete--you and your happiness.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @euphovlq @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @solecitoszn @conitagray

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deadgirlkisses · 5 months

Text

a.n: guess who's back! yup, it's me, hehehe! didn't mean to run off for a while guys, i've just been extremely busy :( bare with me guys! anyways, i love nerdy! ellie williams so this is for the sweet girls who love her too!

c.w: modern!ellie williams, college/university AU, fem! reader, socially awkward ellie (hhehe), kinda dom!reader and sub!ellie (idfk), TONS of blabbering, didn't really read proofread, in lowercase on purpose

♡

currently thinking about ellie williams, a stoic & quiet woman that 9 times out of 10, is questioning how she got into a relationship with YOU, the sweetest girl on the block. the girl who always had every shade of pink in her closet. the girl who always made sure her outfits were as cute as ever. the girl that was the living, breathing definition of "doll". the girl known for all the pink throughout campus, "mrs. always in pink" they would say. it was quite simply anyways,

ellie had been looking for a new guitar as hers had broken due to unfortunate circumstances (she was trying too hard to be a rockstar and smashed it CONTINUOUSLY not thinking about the after effects of the guitar) when someone with the sweetest scent of vanilla and strawberry had suddenly swished past her paired with a simple "excuse me" causing her to nearly get whiplash to look at who that may have been as they made their way past.

she recognised the scent, she had smelt it almost all the time when she was in her lectures that she only attended when she felt like, she recognised that voice too, the one she heard when asking and answering questions to her other peers around the room and with dina, jesse and (unfortunately) abby, your friends. upon turning around, she could tell who you were just from the bright baby pink skims dress you had on, your matching pink kate spade bag adorned with a hello kitty charm, she knew it was you.

she couldn't understand what was going on with her, her hands started to become sweaty as she held the guitar, her fingers kept on missing the right strings to strum as she watched you diligently, picking up the pink electric guitar you found. her hair, up in her usual half bun admiring the way you tuned the guitar with your acrylic nails with different assortments of charms and hand drawn images of designs on them that she thought made your hands look so delicate.

it's not like she hadn't stared at you like this before. as stated before, she would attend lectures when she felt like, and when she did feel like attending, it was because she knew you would be there. you two shared a course together and had a class at the same time which gave her countless opportunities to admire you and even talk to you but sadly, her dorkiness over came her and never let her try.

you on the other hand were open to speaking to her, you did know her from your lectures together though you never truly had a good one on one conversation which left you in suspicion of her. who was she truly? why was she constantly looking at you? why was she kind of cute? why did you want her to do you dirty and rough in this very guitar store? let's face it, you weren't oblivious to her constant glances at you. in fact, you thrived on it. you in turn though did act like you wouldn't notice only to allow yourself to take in her.

she didn't have much muscle and she was constantly rumbling about space but you thought it was cute. her front strands of hair falling to cover parts of her face as she looked away from you as you silently strummed away to your favourite song, you felt the intense glare pointed to your fingers. you never thought anything about your fingers except for your nails, always perfectly done in a specific pattern or colour. you can't lie, the way she was looking at your fingers did quite literally make you feel some way...

ellie could never think she would find you here, she never thought that a pretty girl like you could even be around her. but, with the way you two were at the same place and knew of each other, she might as well pluck up the courage and actually talk to you. swiftly, she walked up to you and, with all the confidence she mustered up, finally muttered a small "hey there" to which she made a mental note to never start with a conversation with that.

turning around, you stopped playing your tune and went on with a "oh ellie, didn't see you there!" although you knew she was always there. this did make ellie feel quite bad but at least you "never noticed" her constant ogling at you. after a skip of atleast 4 heart beats, ellie realised who she was talking to and came back to her senses to actually carry the conversation "yeah, i was checking out for guitars. i didn't know you played it...".

you could tell she was trying to be slick, but with the way she constantly glanced at your fingers did make you want her a bit more than usual today. "i've been playing for 7 years now, and i thought i should try electric guitars since i mostly play bass," and now she was completely immersed in your full, glossed lips as you spoke. you didn't know whether to keep going or just leave her be but something made you say "ellie, my eyes are up here."

ellie felt a wave of embarrassment pool up her stomach as she started to blabber out quick apologies here and there. as she struggled to look into your eyes, you could see her tense up much at he way you kept the conversation while attentively keeping up with her body language "the Eastcoast ST1 in pink... you like pink a lot don't you? i mean i can tell with the way you always wear pink and have almost everything of yours in pink and the way you look like the embodiment of pink, it suits you since you're pretty and sweet and so attractive and- i'm sorry, i'm saying way too much aren't i?"

the amount of words spewing out of her mouth caught you off guard but the way she had to stop herself from complimenting you more was what made you utter out words she never thought you would say to her:

" i could kiss you right now, thank you sweetie! "

ellie didn't know if that was a just a statement or a demand but she really wouldn't mind if you did anyways. heat rushed through out leaving her with the colour of strawberries imprinted on her cheeks. "i wouldn't really mind getting a kiss from you anyways but i don't think you actually would" in which she never expected to happen, in a flash of moments,

" who said i wouldn't, hm?"

to which you placed two kisses on each of her cheeks and walked off. no words. no words but baffled was what ellie was. she truly didn't believe in manifestation but having a pretty girl like you kiss her RIGHT AFTER telling her that you would never kiss her and dreaming of those lips on her was absolutely baffling. maybe she did believe in all of that manifestation, "law of attraction" or whatever. as she watched you leave, you abruptly made a stop, causing her to wonder why you would have stopped till you looked directly at her and told her,

" and my fingers could do way more than strumming guitar strings, you know? "

and with that, you left, without a guitar in hand and with a flustered ellie williams wondering how she even got there. manifestation, she'll definitely look into it...

-xoxo, rue

♡

#rue rantz #black girl blogger #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x blk!reader #nerd!ellie #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #the last of us #the last of us 2

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nrdmssgs · 10 months

Text

Soap comforting reader

Masterlist Comforting series: König comforting reader Price comforting reader

AN: I've got requested for something a bit similar for König and decided to make a series. There will be different traumas, CoD boys help us all overcome. (Königs version coming soon)

Here Johnny helps the reader deal with her neglectful family. I kept everything mild, so no TWs here really.

You are nervous about that family gathering. Of course, it's Johnny, you'll follow him anywhere, but a mere thought of a full family gathering in one house…

Someone will not like your clothes, someone will criticize your career, someone will quarrel with you because of politics... And at some point there will be ‘THE talk’ about children and grandchildren, and you will choke in guilt and shame.

No, you never met Johnnys relatives before. But you knew well, how is it usually going: “Hi guys, look, whom I found, please like her as I do”. And then the show starts.

It didn't help as well, that your own family gatherings often ended with you gagging on your tears in the bathroom, pretending, you were just washing hands.

“Hen? You nervous? We can always pull off the road, so you can take a breather.” Johnny puts his hand on your knee and gives you a beaming smile.

"No, no, I don't want to be late. Your sister wrote that she was already there."

He stops on the next parking lot nevertheless. “If she is already there - it means, my parents are already entertained enough by her kids. Come on, lets walk.” And before you could react, Johnny drags you out of the car, takes your hand and leads you in a field beside a parking lot.

It helps, but by the time you two step inside his parents house, you feel your pulse drop once again.

“I'm so happy to finally meet you!”, “Johnny, what took you so long to bring her here? Oh, you've been dating for not that long? What took you so long to find her then?!”, “He is so lucky to have you!”

Yes, they don't just quietly accept you - they absolutely shower you in love. You usually don't hear that many nice words, even on your birthday.

And they are all fantastic people: they are kind, open-hearted, love a good joke. You feel like you could talk to them forever.

You see, what it takes to raise such a treasure like Johnny: he has mothers eyes and fathers voice, he shares his bubbly personality with his sister.

His family still has their little heartwarming rituals, when they call their son to lick the spoon after mixing cookie dough. Only now Johnny picks up his nephew and gives him the spoon. Or when they all gather together on the terrace after dinner, lay out blankets and pillows on the plank floor and make themselves comfortable with mugs of tea.

Johnny sits with a notebook in his hands and sketches something, his sister stealthily peeps over his shoulder, then glances at you and smiles. You are stolen by his nephew to build a pillow fort.

Before you go to bed, you help his parents clean up. His mom walks over to you while you're wiping down the big dish and hugs you. "Thank you for letting him into your life. Johnny has always been a sweet, cheerful child, but It`s the first I see my boy literally glowing with happiness."

Although normally, you wouldn't like being touched by someone you've just met - this time you don't mind. In fact you even find yourself enjoying this little warm moment.

Later that night, sitting on the edge of bed in Johnnys childhood room, you ask yourself if this is what a family feels like. Or maybe MacTavishes were just an ideal family and in fact it was ok to cry at every family gathering, to avoid texting and calling your parents more than once a week. Maybe everyone didn`t share their feelings with parents and siblings, just like you? And there were rare exceptions to the rule here and there, and you just met one?

You didn't even hear Johnny entering the room and coming closer.

“Heeeey, what's with the wet eyes? Anyone let you down?” He slowly lowers himself to the floor and puts his head in your lap. "Wait, or did I say something stupid? That joke about my next deployment is just a joke, I swear!”

You smile and wipe away tears hastily. “No-no! Nobody let me down. Its just your family… You are all so good to me and to each other.”

Johnny lets you go on with the thought, asking questions and encouraging. He has long noticed that your relationship with your family is not like his, but he has never commented on this before.

"I know it's stupid, but... I didn't want to go to bed, just to spend more time with them. I wanted to remember how a family can feel. And now I'm afraid that in a week I'll forget this feeling... Sorry, I must sound like an edgy teenager right now."

He pulls your torso in a firm hug, not raising from the floor. “They… We all are your family, if you want us to. They love you, bonnie. You know, how many times they asked me to finally bring the woman who makes me smile constantly to our family house? How long have they all wanted to meet you? You know, how many times they pulled me in some corner today just to ask when am I going to wife you up?”

You frown. “Oh no…” “Oh yes, sweets. They are rooting for us.” “Wait, that's bad, that's really bad…” “How is that bad?” “I like them so much, I want them to be happy, and if you have second thoughts, if you decide, I'm not worth it, they'll all hate me for not being that girl, for wasting your time, for not being good enough…”

The speed with which you find yourself knocked over on the bed and his hands holding you tight against his chest is beyond any belief. You are cut out mid-sentence.

“Breathe in…” His hand moves to your spine and traces a long line up to you neck. “... and out.” His fingers now travel down your back.

Johnny repeats it a few times and when he feels your pulse steadying, he finally speaks. “There are and will be no second thoughts. Happy or not - you're stuck with me, sweets. I may joke around other matters, but I am dead serious with this. You are the one. For me, which also means - for them. I know it, they know it. You are welcome here, you are loved, you are so much awaited. They are part of me, so they always come with me, if you choose to have me.”

As he speaks, you feel his breath tingling back of your head and his fingers drowning in your hair. This all feels surreal, but you want to believe him. They are slowly becoming your family. Your home.

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap mctavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap modern warfare #call of duty #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x y/n #soap x you #sergeant mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish x reader

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honeyedmiller · 10 months

Text

When It Rains | Pedro Pascal

based on this request here

pairing: pedro pascal x gn!reader

disclaimer: I obviously know Pedro is such a sweetheart and would probably never do this to anyone in “real life.”

warnings: angst, fighting, cursing, mentions of social anxiety, fluff, no use of y/n.

word count: 1.3k

You don't even know how it escalated to this point.

One day, you and your boyfriend come home from an event that went terribly. You barely got to see each other anymore, so that event was your time to spend with one another—until he was pulled in every which way for an interview, to talk to a friend of his, or to talk to current or past co-stars.

You knew he had a busy schedule and he was quite literally dominating the film industry at the moment, but fuck you just missed him. You couldn't blame him for genuinely being a person of and for the people. Everyone loved him.

That's not what upset you, though, no—it was the fact that he'd barely acknowledged you the whole night, not introducing you to the people he was talking to, and had you following him around like a goddamned lost puppy the whole night.

When you got home, you were exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally. You didn't bother trying to explain to him why you were in such a sour mood, which to you, was just you being silent. You were never silent. You loved to converse with Pedro, even when he didn't have the energy to talk. He still loved to listen to you.

When you said you were going to bed flatly, his mood absorbed yours and it just escalated from there. It's been days. Small bickering here and there, until tonight.

Something just snapped in both of you, all the pent-up anger and frustrations being laid down on the table for both of you to finally see.

"I don't understand your deal." Pedro snapped, squinting his eyes at you as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You scoffed at him and threw up your arms in defeat. "How about we start off with the fact that I was looking forward to spending a great night with you the other night. You brushed me off and acted like you didn't fucking care about me, Pedro. What the hell? Are you-" You paused, tears welling in your eyes. "Are you ashamed to introduce me to people a part of your 'world' because I'm not on your guys' level?"

He looked at you in complete disbelief, as if you blamed him for something that wasn't his fault.

"Don't even start with that. You know that's not true. Maybe you should learn to be a little less introverted and actually learn how to speak to people. You're a grown up, for fuck's sake." Pedro's words dripped with venom as he seethed, and the look of hurt was eminent on your face.

Pedro knew you had terrible social anxiety. The fact that he'd throw that in your face was hurtful and belittling. You never brought up his anxieties and used them against him in an argument, so the fact that he did that to you fucking hurt.

"You know what, Pedro, you're right. I am a grown up. But that doesn't mean I don't struggle with things any less. I'm not a part of the acting world, let alone even famous. I got that part. But fuck, if you're going to brush me off like that and treat me like I don't matter when I've been nothing but loving and supportive of you from the moment we've met, then maybe you should go find better." Tears were streaming down your face. You couldn't hide it anymore.

"What are you saying? Are you breaking up with me?" Pedro's angry voice faltered into a broken and confused tone.

"No, Pedro. I'm just saying that if this isn't what you want anymore, then you can go ahead and find better. Find someone who's more understanding of your career. I love you, but I can't deal with this right now." Your fists were balled up at your sides as tears continuously fell down your cheeks. You took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling before turning on your heel to walk to the front door.

"Fuck. Please, baby, wait." Pedro begged, moving closer to you.

"Don't."

That's all you said before you walked out of the front door, shutting it behind you. The chilly, gloomy weather made you wrap your arms around your frame as you briskly walked down the sidewalk, tears blurring your vision. Thunder cracked loudly above your head, making you jump and silently curse at Mother Nature.

Of fucking course the weather would match your sad, brooding mood. As soon as you felt one drop of rain, the downpour followed next. The rain soaked you to the bone, but truthfully, that was the last thing on your mind. You could've sworn you heard your name being called, but the pounding of the rain against the sidewalk made it nearly impossible to hear correctly.

You didn't bother to turn around and just kept walking for what felt like hours, before you reached a small local community park. You stepped on the muddy sand and made your way to the swings, sitting abruptly.

You couldn't help but cry your eyes out.

You knew dating a celebrity would come with some pros and cons, but you never thought Pedro would've been the type to brush you off. He was usually so loving and tender when it came to you. Seems like when it rains, it fucking pours... you guess.

You couldn't help but think that maybe you were being a bit dramatic with this whole thing. Maybe Pedro didn't mean to brush you off, or make you feel inferior. Maybe he didn't even realize what he was doing.

Your mind started running overtime, and you suddenly became overwhelmed with the thought that you might've just ruined what'd happened to be the greatest relationship you've ever been in.

All because you couldn't put your anxieties behind you and be an adult and introduce yourself. Maybe Pedro was right. You sighed as you rested your elbows on your knees, hands covering your tired, puffy eyes. You sat there for god knows how long, before you saw bright headlights flash on you as a car quickly parks on the street.

Your head snaps up and you squint to try and see who it was, because for all you knew, it could've been a fucking axe murderer. You heard your name being called distantly, the rain still making it a bit hard to hear. Your name was called once more as the person got closer, and you instantly recognized the voice. Pedro.

You stand slowly from the swing you were on, legs shaky and weak. All of your energy had been completely depleted from your body. Your wet clothing felt like a thousand pounds on your body, and your eyes hurt from continuously crying.

Pedro approached you slowly, his eyes clearly bloodshot from crying himself.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry." His voice cracked as his hands reached for you. You stilled and thought about backing away, but you couldn't even fathom fighting with him or being angry for another second. All you want was him and his comfort.

"I shouldn't have gotten angry at you for something that was my fault. I know you try your best in social gatherings. I should've introduced you. I was a dick. I'm so sorry, baby." Pedro kissed the top of your head as you rested your forehead against his broad chest.

"I love you, P," You confessed, squinting up at him to prevent the rain getting into your eyes. “But I’m sorry, too. I should’ve communicated this to you and talked to you about it instead of being brash and walking out on you. Walking out shouldn’t have been my first move. I’m sorry.”

"I know darling, I know. Next time both of us just need to talk about it head-on. I hate fighting with you. I love you so much," He whispered the last part before kissing your forehead this time. "Let's get you home and comfy and dry." His big brown eyes were glossed over and soft as they looked down at you.

"I hate fighting with you, too. And yes, please, get me out of this fucking rain." You half laugh at the last part, arms tightening around his core.

"Of course, my love." He wraps his arms around you just the same, leaning down to give you a genuine, heart-tugging kiss.

The kind of kiss that happens in those cliché romcom movies that makes you fall for him even harder. The kind that makes it known to the both of you that he's yours and you're his... forever.

a/n: as someone who has social anxiety, talking to people (especially in new settings) is SO HARD so if any of you can relate, I feel u fr fr. Love u all <3

#pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal prompt #anon request

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stellocchia · 5 months

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Thinking of Secret Life SMP hybrid headcanons right now...

Grian would be a parrotlet. They're the smallest group of parrots and I feel like with how pathetic he's been this season he deserves to be just a little guy. He's still a pesky bird who, as season 6 proved, can definitely cause some mischief despite his reduced size, but he's a little guy anyway.

Jimmy is not a canary. Because, yes, he may have the canary curse, but that's just a fancy name for the curse, not necessarily his hybrid type. No, my man is a dog. He's a goddamn chihuahua. He's all bark and annoying but you take a single threatening step toward him and he shivers in fear.

On the topic of dogs, Martyn is a pomeranian. I'm specifically making him a small dog too because, despite wanting to act cool at the end of session 6, he is still very much the one who was first on yellow and red. My man is not big dog-coded.

Now, unpopular opinion, but Scar is a raccoon hybrid. He's a mischievous chaotic menace of a man. A little criminal ready to scam, commit arson, kill, and steal. He's a raccoon. He hasn't burrowed under anyone's house yet (that I remember at least) but that wouldn't be out of character either. Honestly, I'm appalled by the fact that this isn't a far more popular headcanon for him.

And, before I move on from dogs, Etho is also dog-coded. Specifically an Akbash (big white golden retriever-looking fuckers used for the protection of livestock). I just feel like the protectiveness and overall vibe fit him very well.

Finally, moving on from dogs. Cleo is obviously a zombie hybrid. There are no two ways around it. Though this does allow for my little headcanon that, having to learn on their own skin how to sew they became really good and really quick and they're the ones making all the new outfits for everyone else.

Gem meanwhile is specifically a sculk hybrid. Though I like to think that that came about when she opened the portal. She was a deer hybrid before (mostly because I like the subversion of expectations with a "prey" hybrid so to speak being arguably the most bloodthirsty person on the server) and then it spread like an infection. I figure by now her infected half straight-up looks something like Belos monster for from TOH:

Scott is something like a Reakirt’s Blue Butterfly. Both because the colors match him, and because he is kinda The Social Butterfly. My man is always out and about mingling with others. He's so friendly that he literally didn't struggle to pull off the "love you" challenge when everyone admitted that no one else would have been able to. It would be a waste not to make him some kind of butterfly at least.

Now, for Impulse I have something less reasoned, I just think the idea of him being an imp called Impulse is way too funny to resist. And he is way more of a mischievous one than I usually see people talk about. I've seen the phasmophobia stream where he killed everyone with the cursed items several times in a row just because he wanted to try them out. I know what he's capable of.

Meawhile his bestie Skizz is so capibara coded it's unreal. Like, don't get me wrong, he's plenty chaotic. But also you will never find anyone more lawful good in the Life Series than him. I've been thinking this since Love Island was founded. My man is the king of chilling with everyone. (Aside from Jimmy, rip Jimmy).

At the risk of being boring, I also like seeing Tango as a salamander hybrid. Exclusively because of the mythological connection between salamanders and fire. Also, the idea that every time he's flying (though it's funnier if it's also when he's simply jumping) he's nothing but a ball of fire with a lizard tail is very funny to me.

BigB is a hard one because I've only watched a couple of episodes from his POV so I'm not quite as familiar with the lore surrounding him as I am with the others. So I'm not sure. I want to say enderman because of his cryptid vibes this season, but he's not one of the characters with the biggest connection to the end. Those are mostly BDubs, Gem, and Lizzie, so I don't know. I'm open to suggestions.

Talking about BDubs, why are there no ender dragon hybrid headcanons for him around? I think it would be incredibly ironic if the dragon slayer was a dragon himself. Also, his house is under the Earth just like the End portals. Trust me, it makes so much sense. He's small but so full of righteous anger.

Pearl is no hybrid, she's literally just a witch. I've seen the WITCH animatic and that fundamentally changed my view of her forever. Before I would have said a moth hybrid of some kind because I do like moth Pearl, but I love that specific interpretation so much it's unreal. She is a witch with an army of hellhounds at her back and call.

Mumbo is a vampire because I've seen some art of vampire Mumbo at some point in time and it hasn't left my head since. Also, he's one of the players with the highest bloodlust every time he turns red. We're 2 for 2 on that with his appearances in the Life series. And it's usually also what leads to his demise. So I feel like that would be fitting for a vampire.

Meanwhile, my dearly beloved blorbo Joel is a honey-badger. This is a headcanon that is incredibly dear to me and I've never seen around but it's literally SO FITTING. The absolute crackhead energy, the lack of self-preservation, and the surprising sturdiness as time and time again he gets himself in impossible situations and still manages to survive until pretty much the end are all that exact honey-badger vibe. Like, just thinking of him summoning a hoard of zombies to fight off several infected and surviving for quite a while in those conditions just, really proves my point. Enough said.

Lizzie meanwhile is a very sad sopping wet cat. Just absolutely miserable. One of those cats who look like they're constantly grumpy. The frown has deepened ever since no one came to her party and she's still frowning in the void of death.

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graneymar · 1 year

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HII can you do a jealous neymar? Thank you!

#9. NEYMAR: JEALOUSY JEALOUSY

SUMMARY: Neymar is getting jealous because one of his friends seems to like you a little too much

WARNINGS: none

PAIRING: Neymar x fem!reader

"Oh God, that guy, Gabriel Medina, he’s literally so hot! Have you already met him?", Nessa, my best friend, asked and held up her phone, a picture of Gabriel on her screen. "Yeah, last time we were in Brasil I've met him a few times. He's really nice", I told her as I prepared Neymars favorite salad for him. He would be home from training soon. "I am having the biggest crush on him, literally. Next time you're going to Brasil and get to meet him you gotta take me with you", she insisted, "Why have you never talked about him before? I usually know when you're hanging out with Neys friends." The moment she finished her sentence, my phone lit up. An instagram notification. Speak of the devil and he appears. Gabriel replied to my insta story.

"The weather in Paris looks shit, you better move your ass to São Paulo soon 😏 jk. Tell me when you're here again tho!"

I never really knew how to react to Gabriel acting this way. Was he actually flirting or just trying to be nice and funny? I knew most of Neymars friends and none of them acted like this, at least not around me. I glanced up at Nessa and handed her my phone, "That’s why I prefer not to talk about him - at all." Nessas mouth fell open as she read the message. "Y/N, he obviously laid his eyes on you! Does Ney know about it?" I shook my head from left to right quickly. We were together for nine months now, but I still didn't feel good about talking negatively about one of his closest friends. Plus, Gabriel meant a lot to him, I didn't want to be the reason their friendship would come to an end. "Neymar doesn’t know anything about it and I don't want him to know, at least not yet", I answered her question and heard something drop onto the ground. I slightly turned my head to find Neymar standing in the door frame, his training bag on the floor next to him. His eyes said more than a thousand words. He must’ve heard us. "Hi babe, how was training?", I rapidly put on a fake smile to hide my shock. No reaction from his side. "Uhm, I made you your favorite salad! Are you hungry?" He watched me for a few seconds, my nervousness rising, before he finally spoke up. "I don’t know about what? What is it that you don’t want me to know?" I gulped, my heartbeat skipped a beat. Nessas eyes kept on wandering between us until she decided to get up from her seat. "I'll just leave you two alone", she shyly said, "Have a nice day!" And with that, the front door was closed behind her. Neymar still stood in the door frame, his eyes literally looking right through me, the silence in the room was unbearable. "Are you going to tell me what you’ve been talking about now or do I have to find out another way?", he said, his voice calm yet mad. I bit the side of my cheek, not sure what I was supposed to do. I unlocked my phone and went on instagram in order to show him mine and Gabriels chat, but I got cut off in the middle of doing so. "Seriously? You're going on fucking instagram now?", Neymar raised his angry voice. My body twitched at his tone. I put my phone onto the kitchen counter and pushed it to Neymar, Gabriels message already visible. I followed his eyes reading every word, but I wasn’t able to read his facial expression. He then took my phone and scrolled through the chat, reading about how Gabriel called me beautiful, saying I should come back to São Paulo, sending me songs and a lot of - mostly shirtless - photos of himself. "Block him", he suddenly said. I looked at him in disbelief. "Ney, he’s one of your best friends. Don’t you think it’ll be awkward when I see him again after I blocked him?" He handed me back my phone and looked me straight in the eyes. "Who says you’ll see him again? I won’t let that bastard get near you." I shook my head from left to right, "Don't talk about him like that, he’s still one of the closest people to you."

"You really think I'll act like everything is alright after this son of a bitch tried to get to my woman? He better pray to God I won't see him next time I'm in Brasil. He really thinks he can pull whoever he wants with his sparkly eyes, adorable smile and bodybuilder body. Always acting like Mister Charming and being oh so funny. You can try to pull whoever you want, but not my girl." I tried to hold it back, but couldn’t stop myself from quietly giggling. He looked at me all confused. "What’s so funny?"

"Is someone getting jealous?", I playfully raised my brows at him. "Me? Jealous? Of who?", he replied, trying to deny what was obvious. "I quote: his sparkly eyes, adorable smile, bodybuilder body." Neymar shrugged. "So what? I'm still better. He doesn’t even come close to me." His lips were pouted and his eyes wandered to the ground as he was speaking. "Aw babe", I started, positioning myself right in front of him and wrapping my hands around his neck, "You are the most attractive, truly the most handsome man I've met in my whole life. No one makes me laugh like you do. You make me the happiest and I couldn't imagine a better boyfriend than you." I smiled and kissed his lips gently. His facial expression softened as he placed his hands onto my waist. "Just block him, ok?"

"Your wish is my command", I nodded before pecking his lips once more.

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koolades-world · 17 days

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Words cannot express how much I adore your writing, ESPECIALLY when it comes to Satan, like hands down one of the best Satan writers🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ but besides that- I would really love to see how the brothers react to MC who is… well… sensitive. As in- they care a lot about the brothers, and would obviously never even dream of hurting them let alone in reality. So I picture MC being extremely upset of the power they hold due to the seven pacts after the first time they use ‘stay’ (lesson 26-15). Then cue the events that result in MC getting the ring of light. Them being borderline horrified of their strength and tries to isolate themself thinking they might be a threat to brothers, even though at the back of their mind they know that the brothers could never actually be fatally injured because of them.

hello! of course :)

thank you so much for the satan writer compliment GAH he’s just my little guy and I’m glad people like my take on him. my sweet satan. hes the flame, and i am but a tiny moth drawn to his character potential and literally everything else about him

also, thank you for specifically requesting what you wanted!! usually I have no clue what people want and just guess haha. it's a little longer than a drabble would be so idk what it is anymore lol

hope you like where I went with this! did both satan and luci. enjoy <3

Sensitive Mc who's afraid of hurting the brothers

Satan

Satan was alone in his room, reading, when he was suddenly hit with a concerning thought. He had been meant to gift you that human world book he'd managed to find a second hand bookstore. Coincidentally, the two of you had been talking about that same book just yesterday, so he had to pick it up for you. He'd actually been hoping the two of you could read it together because he'd never read it. He could already imagine reading it aloud to you, how you’d be cuddled up in his lap, arms around him and using him as your personal pillow.

After he finished the page he was on, he grabbed the book. He'd probably have to reread everything he read before thinking of you, but that was alright. He’d learnt to treasure every moment he could with you. You were the only thing that could truly cause him to temporarily lose interest in a book.

With that, he set off, book in hand, to find you. First he check your room. It wasn’t unusual to not find you there. His brothers often dragged you elsewhere. Next he checked the library, his brothers’ rooms, and the attic, but it was to no avail. That was when he started to get worried. He started to call you and text you. He could see that you were reading his messages and the calls were ringing all the way through, but you didn’t reply once.

That's when he started to freak out. Every bad thing that could've possibly happened ran through his head. He stopped, and took a deep breath to clear his head to try and think more rationally. He knew he needed to find you, and while he knew telling his brothers was the best course of action, he figured he'd check your room one last time, just in case he managed to miss you somehow. As he stepped into your room and shut the door behind him, he caught sight of you. You were seated away from the door, head down on the table.

"Mc! There you are. I've been looking for you." He stepped towards you and put his hand on your shoulder. You jumped very suddenly, and whipped your head around to face him. The expression on your face wasn't one he'd ever seen you make. You looked deeply fearful, more so than when facing one of his angry brothers, or himself for that matter. The two of you made steady eye contact for a moment, before you suddenly stood up.

"Mc?" Satan was confused and concerned. You placed both of your hands on his chest and pushed him away as hard as you could before running to the opposite side of the room. "What's the matter?" He recovered quickly from his minor stumble.

"Stay back! I'm a monster. I can't hurt you. You mean too much to me." Satan got deja vu. He swore he'd said something exactly like that in the past. Your hands shook as you held them out in front of you, urging him to stop his advances towards you. You seemed to be struggling to hold them up, as your arm began to fall and your fingers could hardly stay upright. He saw himself in you in that moment. Afraid, alone, and confused, just like how he felt when he first came into being. While he wanted nothing more than to go comfort you, he found himself frozen mid-step towards you. This sent you into another fit of tears.

"See? I can't do anything right." You sobbed.

"Mc, please unfreeze me. I promise you, you can't hurt me." He could hear the desperation growing in his voice, and he was sure you could too.

"What if I hurt you on accident though? I don't know what I'd do. I care too much about you to do that to you." You tried to avoid eye contact, since looking into his eye was too painful.

"It's going to be alright. It'll take a lot to drive me away from you, because I care. If it ever gets to the point of you hurting me, I won't be upset with you because I know you didn't mean it. I trust you no matter what. Everything you just said proves that. Now, please, let me hug you. You need one." You eyed him skeptically.

"I don't trust me." You swiped away some of the tears with the back of your hand, but they kept flowing.

"You've already done so much for this family, and for me. Please, let me return the favor. I'll always be by your side. If the situation ever arises, we can work through it together. I'm not afraid to do what it takes to remain by your side." He silently implored you to meet his eyes, and when you finally did, he knew he'd gotten through to you.

"Alright. Come here." You smiled a little through the tears, and let your arms fall to your side. Like magic, Satan was able to move again and he quickly rushed forward to scoop you up. He held you close to him, gently wiping away your tears.

"I hope you can sense how much I care about you." He rubbed your back and sighed as you began to hug him back.

"Thank you." He knew that hurting him was probably the thing you feared most. He understood that, and promised himself that the two of you would work through that fear together. You changed his life, and wanted to really make sure you knew and didn't undermine how impactful you actually are to him.

Lucifer

It was late. Lucifer had already completed his nightly rounds and was doing paperwork, as usual. He'd made it through about half his stack, and had resolved to finishing it by morning.

He heard the the quiet footsteps of someone walking by his room, down the hall and up the stairs to the attic. With a sigh, he got up and followed whoever it was. He was too late to catch whoever it was, but he decided he'd let them get to the to top of the stairs before he went up after them.

He stood there for a moment, thinking. The only people who went to the attic were the twins, and occasionally you, if one of the twins happened to be up there. Really, only Belphie liked to be up there, and Beel and you just followed him, because he'd never seen either of you up there of your own volition. He wasn't sure why whoever it was needed to be up there at this hour. Belphie and Beel are usually knocked out at this hour. As he passed Levi's room, he heard the sound of a videogame and an angry sigh. Soft music was coming from Asmo's. The rest of the house was dead silent. Lucifer heard the stair at top of the staircase creak, meaning they'd reached the top landing. With that, he set off after them.

Once at the top of the stairs, he initially didn't see anyone and he quickly questioned if he'd been hearing things. Then, he spotted you sitting next to the window, hugging your legs and chin resting on your knees. Before he could speak, you beat him to it.

"Hello." You didn't turn around, or move at all.

"Mc. What are you doing up at this hour?" He stayed where he was, hoping that your conversation together would be quick.

"I could ask you the same thing." Usually, you'd say that with vigor, or some sort of enjoyment in your voice, but, your voice was flat.

"Very funny. Now, answer the question." He crossed his arms. While you were behaving a little strangely, he hoped it was just because it was late and continued as he usually would.

"Couldn't sleep. Didn't want to bother anyone." You sighed.

"I'm sorry to hear that. You are welcome to join me in my room tonight, if that might help." He felt a little sympathetic after you'd told him what was wrong. It would be nice to have them in his room as company, and a motivation to work faster.

"I've just been... thinking, is a good way to put it." All of your thoughts seemed jumbled, because everything that come out of your mouth, despite seemingly thinking hard about it, came out strangely.

"That's oddly vague, Mc." He took a few more steps towards you, but you still kept yourself turned towards the window. You remained silent, so he took the final few steps until he was right behind you.

"Lucifer. Will you make me a promise?" You turned to him slowly for the first time that evening. The little bit of moonlight streaming in through the window half illuminated your face. He could tell you hadn’t slept at all that night, maybe longer. The circles under your eye were very telling. The way you looked back at him unsettled him. That in itself spoke more words than he could ever say. There was a far off look in your eyes, like you were staring right through him. He never thought he'd be afraid of you, but the way you were behaving was scaring him.

“Of course, my love. Anything.” You turned back to the window, but he could tell you kept looking at him through the corner of your eyes.

“Promise me you’ll stop me if I ever do anything that might hurt your or your brothers. At any cost.” That sentence sent a shiver down Lucifer’s spine. It was an accomplishment to say that you could make a chill wrack through the body of Diavolo's right hand man, but this moment was anything but joyous or celebratory. The implications of your statement were grim.

"What are you talking about?" He stumbled on his words a little, unsure how to approach what you just asked.

"I'm not really sure how to put how I feel into words. But, that's what I do know." You glanced between him and the view outside the window.

"If you could, please try to enlighten me." He sat beside you

"I'm unsure of the power I have. I feel like I shouldn't have this. I'm unworthy and afraid of what I might do. You saw what I did on accident. I didn't mean to really make all of you stop like that. I know it didn't hurt too bad but... I just don't know how I feel." You sighed again.

"I understand how you feel, I believe. You're more than worthy to wield the power you do. It's not easy to quell the seven avatars of sin, but, you are, aren't you? Do not discredit yourself. I'm sure you know you could never hurt any of us, right?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow at you, awaiting your response.

"I'm not discrediting myself, I'm just afraid is all, alright? Sorry if I've felt distant lately. It's just been on my mind for a while." You snapped to face him again.

"I see. Please, do not isolate yourself like that from us again. We can work through this together. I know you're afraid of hurting us, but the day that happens is the day the Devildom freezes over, alright? We care." He paused. "I care."

A gentle smile made its way across your face. "Thanks. I think I'll always be a little afraid, honestly. But, I trust you, and I know you mean what you say." Lucifer remembered what you'd said earlier. He hoped he'd never have to follow through that.

For now though, he hoped to treasure this moment with you, and hopefully help you get to bed with the little nugget of peace he'd given you.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

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rollercoasterwords · 2 years

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hey guys btw there is actually never a good reason to loudly and publicly talk about how much u dislike a fanfic!! Like. let's break this down for a sec:

i don't like it

ok, understandable. i've dnf'd lots of fics because i didn't like them. but the people writing fanfiction are doing it for free and for fun, and you don't know anything about their lives. they could be a young writer just starting out! they could be an older writer getting back into writing after years of being unable to! they could be someone going through a rough patch whose only source of joy right now is writing their silly little stories! talking about how much you dislike a fanfic literally does nothing except hurt the person writing it. that's it. it is not productive, it is not necessary. even strangers on the internet deserve basic human empathy.

ok but i really don't like it

babe, i feel u! i'm a hater too. rant about it privately. shit on it in private messages or group chats with friends. u can dislike something without dragging its creator into the town square to throw tomatoes at them, yknow?

ok but i really don't like it AND it's popular

ok? shouting about that on the internet doesn't make you cool or special or unique. it just makes you kind of mean and, honestly, bitter. like i said before, this is fanfiction. nobody is paying for it. nobody is profiting. there is no standard that these writers are obligated to meet. clearly, other people like the work. why not let them enjoy it in peace?

no u don't understand it doesn't deserve to be popular there are better fics that deserve it more!!!

talk about those fics then!! post about how much u love them!! uplift those writers!! ur tweet or tiktok or tumblr post is not going to suddenly make a popular fic lose all popularity, no matter how undeserving u perceive it to be. if this is actually coming from a place of frustration because you feel like there are other fics that deserve more attention, then just give those fics attention.

no but it's problematic

mmm ok. let's sit with this one for a second. i want you to ask yourself--is it really, really problematic? is it perpetuating harm against a marginalized group? remember, this is fanfic; it is outside the consumer economy, and the stories it tells will almost never make it to a mainstream audience. so is the story actually hurting people, or is the author just exploring something that you're uncomfortable with? because if you're just uncomfortable, then assuming the work is tagged properly, the best course of action is to just click away. as uncomfortable as it may be, people are allowed to write stories that you might find upsetting or gross or weird, and those stories existing is not inherently harmful in and of itself.

it is actively reinforcing harmful stereotypes/rhetoric/etc

okay! ok. if you are deeply concerned because you feel that this fic is genuinely harmful, then go to the writer. leave a comment. send them a message on tumblr or twitter or tiktok or wherever. explain your situation and see what they say! nine times out of ten, i'd bet that an ao3 writer means no harm and would be willing to listen and address your concerns. in fact, they might even be grateful to you for being kind enough to make them aware of a problem and educate them on it. every ao3 writer i've ever spoken to is an incredibly kind and thoughtful person; you don't need to immediately go on the attack

the writer is unreachable/nonresponsive/not willing to address or change the problematic thing

alright. if you truly feel that this fanfiction is actively harmful and can't reach any kind of conclusion with the writer, and you want to warn others who might read the fic, then do that. do that. make a post that says hey guys btw, x thing in this fic is not a good representation/perpetuates a harmful stereotype/whatever the problem is. and leave it at that! you don't need to go further and insult the writing or the person who wrote it. that is helpful to exactly no one, and if your goal is actually to make the world a better place, then you should learn how to draw attention to an issue in a way that encourages actual dialogue instead of dog-piling and personal attacks.

anyway the next time you feel the desire to post about how bad you think a fic is, feel free to use this as a guide before u do! xoxo

#like i genuinely don't understand u guys sometimes #why do i keep seeing posts w hundreds or sometimes even thousands of likes #that are literally saying nothing except #i think this fic is bad and i don't like it #if someone was making cookies and handing them out for free and u didn't like them #would u go stand next to that person and shout about how shitty their baking skills are??#or would u just move tf on!!#bc they are doing something nice for free!!#and if u don't want to eat it u don't have to!!#like if u post abt disliking fics u are literally just mean #im sorry but u are just mean #and not even in a fun way #i love talking shit i love hating on things!!#i do it in PRIVATE #in PRIVATE!!!#where it's fun for me but i know it won't hurt anyone's feelings unnecessarily!!#some of u guys treat fanfiction like a product to consume and it's NOT #it's a gift!#it's a piece of art that someone is giving u!#so for the love of god stop thinking like a fucking little capitalist consumer for a moment and think like a human being w empathy!!#ranting and raving #txt

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anticmiscellaney · 1 month

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I absolutely adore your work! What's your process been like for writing NewOldRare and developing Neil and Louis? Your art and character writing feel so genuine and realistic to me, so I'm really curious how you go about it!

Thank you! I've always been obsessed with character-driven stories and interaction, so I guess this is the result of years of practice and observation, and dismantling stories that do and don't work to see why.

Unfortunately, there isn't a clear way to explain it. It's one of those "you know when you get it right" things, requiring an eye developed over a long time. I will redraw things if I don't feel like I've captured the nuance I wanted to, and a few months later I'll look at it and see where I could have done better. Same with writing. I'm obsessed with pacing and page design, I had a moment of "that's how I think about it too" when Will Eisner described comic panels like music.

The technical approach is I make notes about stories I want to write, then I expand that into outlines, then scripts, then thumbnails, then I draw the comics and colour them and finalise the dialogue. At every stage I'm asking myself if it feels right, if I'm getting across what I want to. That's not to say there aren't surprises and things don't develop organically, but every stage is an attempt to solve as many problems as I can before the next stage. My thumbnails are quite detailed because it makes pencils easier, and I spend a while on them.

I have total aphantasia so I am operating off feeling rather than any mental images. I have no idea how it works and no idea why I pursue this when I'm missing what many visual artists describe as a crucial component. I just do it and I have better things to do (art) than wonder about something I can't change. I don't think it's made me a better or worse artist, though I think it has given me different ways of approaching/developing things. But also, literally everything about you makes your work different to everyone else's work.

You need to care. If your character is into music, listen to that music. If they have an old car that keeps breaking down, read up on common problems for that model. If they work as a film projectionist, watch a training film about using the machine. The characters care about things, have things in their lives that matter, have skills and interests and challenges. If I don't care enough to understand them, why should anyone reading it care, and also why am I writing it if I don't care?

So I do, and in caring I understand them better. This helps me develop characters/story but it also gives me so much more to write/draw. Understanding how things work and how they are done from a physical standpoint makes writing/drawing them easier too. The more you put into your head, the more you can get out later. I'll do way less for a 12 page short than for a 300 page graphic novel, obviously. Pick your battles, a little can go a long way.

They tell artists to collect visual references - solid advice - but you should collect substance too. If you pay attention, you will hear and see things you could never in a million years make up.

I find online socialising difficult, so I go out regularly and talk to people, or just hang around and observe. Chatting with strangers mostly involves listening to them. No one in gay spaces is interested in flirting with me (I'm rather homely and queer men assume I'm straight) but I think an audience is just as appealing sometimes, and maybe even harder to find. You'd be amazed what people will tell you if you're genuinely interested and listening. I once spent forty minutes at a sci-fi con talking to a guy who'd recently gotten into fisting. While I have zero personal desire to partake in that activity (and he had no interest in being fisted by me), I'm engaged, I'm invested, I'm asking questions, spare no detail.

I collect behavior and movement and the ways people interact too. Reading stories on reddit or whatever is one thing, but the words might not be as interesting as the way they're standing, the way their hands move, the way they respond. A guy in a bar once literally humped my leg like a dog because he felt I wasn't paying enough attention to him. I would never think of that as a response to that situation, but he did, and he followed through. Fortunately my friend had just tried to drunkenly sit down and missed the chair, otherwise I would never hear the end of it.

I see the leghumper around sometimes, he's got a boyfriend and avoids making eye contact with me, thank god.

#newoldrare #replied

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triflesandparsnips · 5 months

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So I was, as per normal, thinking again about Stede just collapsing into the cabin-kiss, and like-- we talk a lot about how Stede had just killed a guy, he was maybe not in the best headspace for sexy times, but--

in looking around for a kiss gif (AS PER NORMAL), I saw this one too:

...and I've been wondering and wondering about that face, right? Stede's face. A bit silly, kind of the embodiment of "smiling helplessly", a phrase that sounds bad out of context but usually appears when someone is just absolutely delighted by the existence of something-- or someone-- doing something ridiculous and amazing...

And it occurred to me that: Stede went to hide in his room so he could freak out, right? He's used to hiding, or trying to hide, how he feels when it comes to the childhood trauma stuff. And he's used to literally hiding in his cabin unless/until someone approaches that he has to mask back up for-- we see that all the way back in the very first episode of season 1.

But that night? The person who approached was Ed.

And not there asking him to be 'the captain'. Not telling him to 'man up' about the killing thing. Not even asking him to be the Romantic Lead or the Lost Love Return'd, roles Stede had been eager and wanting to play but just. not right now.

It could've gone wrong. Stede didn't say "come in"-- he didn't say anything at all, just opened the door, maybe expecting-- god, what he's gotten before, every single other time his entire life--

And Ed... changes the script.

He doesn't step in, doesn't break Stede's boundary, doesn't ask for anything from Stede. He just wants to see if Stede's okay. And more than that: By providing his own feelings about killing his dad, he's letting Stede know that, for the record? Stede doesn't have to be okay.

So... so for maybe the first time that Stede can remember-- or at least maybe the first time we see on-screen-- Stede is hurting, and. And someone comes to comfort him.

No ulterior motives. No quid pro quo. No requirement that he feel one way or another, be this or that kind of person.

Someone-- no, not just someone, Ed, who knows Stede, who's seen him and understood him and could ask so much from Stede if he wanted to-- just sees that he's hurting, and wants to help.

And like-- have you ever felt that kind of kindness? It's heady enough when it's a stranger. But when it's someone you know, someone you care about, someone you trust (hope, pray that you can trust) to hold the delicate, vulnerable heart of you--

Fuck, okay, that face, that silly face, that face that says nothing but looks like it's about to cry and to laugh and it's heartbreak for the past that never felt that kind of comfort and wonder for the person who made it possible in the present and it all adds up to just smiling helplessly--

Listen.

They say that in musicals, songs happen when a character's feelings are too strong for mere dialogue to contain.

I say that in this moment, Stede's actions aren't because he's addled from the kill, but because his feelings-- what love can mean beyond "romance", what it does, what it gives, what it allows, what it makes possible-- rise up and over and wash his hands against Ed's jacket and twist them both to the wall, and then, and then--

just collapse him into that warm embrace, where all the hundred thousand words he could try to find to explain what this love feels like can, for a short while at least, be transmuted into a form that can say them all at once.

#our flag means death #our flag means death s2 #kisses #and how to feel about them

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punk4ndisorderly · 7 months

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dreamboat

jack hughes x fictional character

intro | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | epilogue

part 4 -suddenly

Ava couldn't be there. She felt ridiculous, embarrassed, ashamed even, being the center of attention in this situation. Never in her life would she have thought she'd have someone fighting for her honor. Well, not really fighting, it was one punch, and Ethan was out.

Trevor and Cole ran from their room when they heard the loud thud in the living room, the stunned looks on their faces matching everyone else's.

Jack was breathing heavily through his nose, his chest puffed. No one had ever seen him that mad outside of the rink. Hell, even in the rink, he had never looked that furious.

Dylan and Mark begrudgingly helped Ethan up, taking him to the kitchen to get some ice. The rest of the boys looked on, but no one said a word.

"Next time you should think if going out with the most beautiful girl in the world is more embarrassing than going out with a black eye before you open your fucking mouth." Jack spat, right as Quinn and Luke hastily came down the stairs.

"Jack, stop talking, please." Ava begged, unshed tears in her eyes. "Don't drag this on. I feel humiliated enough as it is." she nearly whispered.

"What the hell is going on?" the eldest Hughes raised his voice, looking between the two of them before scanning the room. "Why are you dipshits hanging around?" he continued. "If you're not involved in whatever this is, I suggest you move this party to your rooms."

The young men Luke had invited to stay over left one by one, the air thick with tension over the events of the last couple of minutes. Trevor and Cole refused to follow, clearly wanting an explanation as to why their friend looked like he was milliseconds away from blowing a fuse.

Quinn turned to his brother, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Jack."

"I've dealt with it."

"I don't care." the Canucks' captain stated dryly. "Speak."

"Quinny, please." Ava intervened. "It was stupid."

His eyes softened when he turned to face the girl he took care of like a little sister.

"Yeah, okay. You're not talking, fine." he gave in. "But you're apologizing to Eddy." Quinn pointed at his sibling. "This is not how grown men deal with shit."

"I don't care." Jack shrugged. "I'm not apologizing. He should be the one apologizing."

"You can't just say shit like that and not explain yourself. That's my teammate. He's a friend. If he did something I need to know." Luke spoke up, towering over him.

"Yeah, man, I need to know if I'm kicking this kid's ass or not." Trevor prompted, raising his eyebrows.

"Forget it." he sighed, turning his back to them. "I don't want you here when I wake up." he added menacingly as he walked past the kitchen and out the sliding doors into the backyard.

"Oh you did not just leave me here to deal with this..." Ava mumbled under her breath, stalking behind him as quick as she could.

Finding him sat on the dock, his feet dipped in the water, the brunette didn't bother with small talk.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"Sorry, I just couldn't not say something if they kept on pushing." he spoke softly, still facing the large body of water.

"We'll discuss that later, I meant what the hell were you thinking when you socked Ethan? Are you insane?"

"Coop, what he said..." Jack began, turning to her.

"I've heard it thousands of times before. It's hurtful, yes, but I can get my point across with words, I always have. You can't go out punching every guy who says nasty things about me."

"As a matter of fact, I can." he stated. "Give me names."

Ava let out a chuckle, releasing some of the tension accumulated inside her. His eyes scanned her face cautiously, the moonlight illuminating it in a totally different way than the sunlight did, and he wanted to learn all about the part of her that could only be seen in it.

"I'm a big girl. Literally and figuratively. This is not your weight to take on..."

"Yes it is, Ava."

She groaned loudly, looking up at the sky.

"I don't want you to get into any trouble for me... And the thing is... I don't get it, Jack. Why are you like this? Why do you do this? Why was there steam coming out of your ears?"

"God, Coop, you cannot be serious." the Devils' player scoffed, getting up to leave.

"Jack!" the brunette huffed, raising to her full height. "What did I say?"

"Isn't it obvious by now?" he retorted.

"Clearly not! There is no reason why -"

"I love you, Ava!" Jack blurted out, holding his arms out. "That's why. I can't help it if I get protective and want to punch the shit out of men who treat you like shit! I can't help getting jealous either! It's something I have to deal with, I know. it would be a lot easier if I didn't care this much, but I do."

His longtime friend, the one he compared everyone else to, stood there, shocked. He could tell she was replaying his words in her head. Deciding if she was going to believe him or not.

"I... We're... Jack, we're never even playing in the same league. You can't just..."

"Stop bullshitting me. I know guys like Ethan legitimize this belief you have deep inside that you're inferior to any other woman because you have a different body type but trust me when I say there is no one else who has ever made me feel like you do. No one I'd rather tell my deepest, darkest fears and secrets to. No one makes me laugh like you do. No one gets me as flustered as you do and they are certainly not in any of my most unholy thoughts, looking exactly like you do. You drive me insane, Cooper. Just the way you are."

A/N: last part!! now on to the social media epilogue 🫢 hope you enjoyed this one!!!

#jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x fictional character #jack hughes x chubby!reader #jack hughes x ava cooper #jack hughes fanfiction #dreamboat jack hughes #jack hughes #trevor zegras #hockey #hockey boys #quinn hughes #alex turcotte #luke hughes

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gremlin-bot · 1 year

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Growth of Trial and Error

So, I lied about this being put on the back burner apparently. It feels so good to post this after working on it for like two months. I hope y'all enjoy this 5 + 1 fic that was bate read by the wonderful @half-dead-ham !!! This fic also connects my other fics in my 'Petals and Arrays of The Dead and Those Yet To Be' series.

AO3 Link: here

—------ 1

Danny and Tim have been dating for a little over a month and a half. In that time they have tried to have a date night once every week… It ends up once every two weeks with random visits for a cuddle date. Danny blames the Observants and Gotham rogues for being bitches. There's only so many times that the restaurant they have reservations at somehow gets hit in an attack before they just give up on restaurants all together.

This is one of those cuddle dates. Danny was laying with his eyes closed on Tim's couch with a star pattern blanket wrapped around him. He's waiting for Tim to get back to back with popcorn so they can watch the Knives Out movies. Why would Tim want to watch murder mysteries when he literally helps solve crime as his nightly activities Danny would never get, that being said he had no room to talk. He himself often fights ghosts for fun now. It's good stress relief from royal duties.

Speaking of royal duties, Danny was sick of paperwork and meetings. Being Ghost King was one almost useless meeting after another with even more useless paperwork to go with each one. He swears, if the Observants ask for another meeting about making more court trials he will find a way to revive them from never being alive and end them himself. All that doesn't matter at the moment because he has a tired boyfriend to cuddle, once he stops taking so long in the kitchen.

Danny opens his eyes to see Tim with a small loving smile on his face. One that Danny can't help but return.

"Aww, it's almost like you got flowers in your lungs for me again!" Danny teases

"Hey! You have no room to talk, Mr. Blood Blossoms!" Tim's blush only gets worse with Danny's light laughter.

"Yeah, yeah and I'll never live that down." Tim rolls his eyes at the pun. Why did he have to bring another person who likes puns into his life, wasn't Dick enough? Danny lifts one side of the blanket.

"Come on sweetheart, get in here." Now how can Tim say no to that? He sets down the popcorn and the veggie tray Bruce insisted they have. Tim dives into Danny and settles in for a good old murder mystery.

They get half way through the first movie when things go wrong.

"God these guys are assholes, you'd think that after hearing one person getting excluded they would worry about the possibility of it happening to themselves!" Danny says, grabbing a handful of popcorn from its bowl.

"I hate that I've met people like this at galas." Tim groans.

"I hope they crash and burn. Marta deserves the inheritance at this point." Danny ends his point by popping pieces of popcorn in his mouth.

As the scene on screen changes, so does the one in Tim's living room. Danny really can't have a nice day off.

A ripping sound is hard over the cacophony of the TV. A portal to the Infinite Realms appears next to it, effectively ruining their cuddle date night. As the Observant floats out into the living room, Danny can't help but feel like he is forgetting something.

…Oh, oh no.

Danny realized what he forgot to tell Tim.

He is the ghost king and Tim has no fucking clue.

Oh Ancients, Tim is going to kill him a second time. That's a future Danny problem, present Danny has to handle an Observant with an uninformed vigilante boyfriend laying on top of him.

Tim has yet to move as he is in his civvies but Danny can feel him tensing. In an attempt at comfort and making sure Tim stays in place, Danny squeezes Tim to his chest and lets out soft rumbling from his core. A signal to the other that everything will be okay, he still doesn't relax.

The Observant was impatiently waiting for Danny's acknowledgement. It doesn't wait long, not because Danny answered but because it ran out of the little bit of patience it had in the first place. The mutual disdain the Observants and Danny hold for each other is great, but Danny will always commit more than the Observants. So yes, Danny could make this easier for himself and Tim, but no. He has principals!

"King Phantom, us Observants wish to schedule a meeting with you regarding the court-'' the eyeball in a sad imagination of jello didn't get to finish its request. It got cut off by Danny's sigh.

"If it's about the same thing as before, no. As stated in the Court Acts section 12a, you can't give out Court hearings without proper approval by an Ancient and myself. Nor can a trial proceed without a pre-approved Ancient or ghost of similar position from outside the Observant branch." Danny's blank stare fixed itself on the unwanted goo encased eyeball, daring it to rebuttal.

"Yes, of course King Phantom. I will tell the others." The Observant grits out. Its goo flesh scrunching in a poor imitation of a disgruntled face. It rips open a portal to the Infinite Realms and leaves without further pestering.

Danny lifts his arm. He can hear Tim's mind trying to piece together what happened.

"Hey, Tim? Beloved? Are you good?" Danny is starting to think that this might have broken his boyfriend. It's been a good 30 seconds since The Observant left and Tim hasn't moved. Maybe he's rebooting? As Danny is pondering the mental state of the man he's supposed to be cuddling, said man decided to roll off of him landing in a crouch.

Tim looks Danny in the eyes and says with all his heart, "What the fuck, Danny?!"

Oh Danny might be a little fucked.

—--------

Tim is going to kill and revive his boyfriend for a second time, if he doesn't explain right now.

"So, I may have forgotten to tell you something important." Danny placates.

"Oh! What gave it away? The probable high powered ghost that portaled into my living room and broke the TV in the middle of our date, or the fact you responded to them with higher authority!" Tim's sass is amplified by the TV blinking to life and giving a static scream.

Danny breathes in through clenched teeth, face slightly scrunched. It was adorable, making it hard for Tim to stay upset. "I'm sorry Tim. I didn't mean to keep anything from you, I just forgot you didn't know already and I just don't talk about it by default. You know I'm not used to not being around my parents and they don't know about any of-"

"Danny, hun, you're starting to ramble. I know how it is with your parents but please explain now.”

“Sorry, I’ll start at the beginning. So, you know how I told you how I became a teen hero after my half-death.”

“Yeah…” Tim switches from crouching to sitting on the floor, eyes squinting at Danny with suspicion. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“So, there was this one time my town was pulled into the infinite realms by the old ghost king. So I had to fight him. I won in the end but, Oh the consequences of these actions."

"Oh no."Tim said quietly, reeling at the possibilities of what the downfall of a king could be.

"Fun fact, the right to the throne is earned through trial by combat. It would have been fine if not for the Realms showing affection for me. You can't argue with the semi-sentient realm between realms," Danny sighed.

“Semi-sentient in what way??! How did it show affection for you?? What do you mean it would have been fine??" What exactly was Danny involved with? Tim thought it was just ghost wrangling. He knew he should have tried harder to contact Constantine about ghosts. Doesn't matter at the moment, nothing could have prepared him for this.

"I don't know how but the Infinite Realms are just like that. It might have to do with the fact that it's where all the dead end up, so technically all lands of the dead, but I just work there." Danny shrugged, all too used to the Infinite Realms' brand of being.

"Danny, Alnilam, my dearest boyfriend, I mean this with my entire heart and soul, what the fuck?" Tim lets his head slump into Danny's arm. He was done for the day and the next two after that. He just wants to watch some murder mysteries with Danny and deal with the Ghost King shit later. It was the first day off of both Wayne Enterprises and any major case he’s had in weeks.

The TV's static increased in volume for a moment before setting down, as if mocking him. He side eyes the TV.

"Sweetheart, if you stop glaring at the TV and give me like 5 minutes, I can fix it." Danny lightly chuckled.

"Fine, I want to see if I'm right about what is actually going on." Tim knows who did it, he's just waiting to be proven right.

"Hey! Don't spoil it!! Not everyone is a smartass." Danny sheds the blanket as he stands, "Are you going to join me on the couch when I'm done, or are you brooding?"

"Yet here you are calling me a smartass." Tim rolled his eyes. Switching from the floor to the couch and stealing Danny's blanket in the process. He's allowed to be a bit petty. It's what he deserves after this ordeal and the ones to come when they talk in depth, but that's for later. Right now, he gets to go back to watching murder mysteries with his boyfriend.

—------- 2

Danny woke up the next day with Tim's head on his chest and a crick in his neck. That's what he gets for falling asleep during cuddle night. Carefully, he reaches for his phone, trying his best to not wake up Tim. Ancients knows how much that boy needs sleep.

Checking the time Danny sighs. He has a meeting with the Ancients in half an hour. Looks like he will have to wake him up… or turn intangible and let him be. Danny debates for a minute before deciding fuck it. He makes himself intangible slowly, eventually Tim is laying on the couch still peacefully asleep.

He carefully floats out of Tim's space and onto the floor. Turning tangible turns into a problem, as Danny apparently can't watch where he pops into existence. His foot ends up in his water bottle. Losing his balance he falls and hits the floor hard, this of course wakes up Tim.

"Danny, what are you doing?" Tim groggily asks.

"Trying not to wake you up while I leave for a meeting. As you can see, I failed." Danny says from the floor, not having moved yet. "I'm just going to transform right here on the floor in shame"

"Transform?" Tim blinked, adjusting so he could fully look at Danny.

"Yeah, so I can get to the meeting on time... Wait. Tim, did you forget that I can transform?" Danny sits up, making eye contact with Tim.

"No I didn't forget, you never told me!"

"I told you the night we started dating," Danny laughs.

"Okay maybe I forgot, but it's not my fault," Tim counters.

"Oh, and how is that?" Danny teases.

"Well someone told me that he was getting severely injured by the Blood Blossoms that were in his lungs. So, forgive me for missing some details!"

"Okay, okay, you win. I did go to my ghost doctor after, you know.”

"Good. Don't you have a meeting to get to?"

"Oh shit! Close your eyes, my transformation is a bit bright." Danny shoots up and transforms in the process. Grabbing his things around the room he almost missed Tim's reaction. If it wasn't for Tim's gasp.

Danny turns to face Tim, his face is flushed as his eyes take in Danny's ghost form. Danny's growing smirk just makes Tim's blush darker.

"See something you like?" Danny teases, his smirk growing wicked.

"Shut up and go to your meeting!!" Tim throws a throw pillow at Danny, only for Danny to turn intangible. He didn't even have the decency to dodge.

"I'm going now, goodbye sweetheart." Danny rips open a portal with his claws, diving through just as he hears Tim's goodbye.

—---------- 3

It took two weeks for Tim to succumb to the need for information. Danny should have expected this from one of the world's greatest detectives, but the call he received at 4:16am was still a jarring surprise. He almost fell out of bed trying to answer his phone. Tim is lucky that he wasn't asleep yet.

After a slight struggle, Danny finally answered the call "Tim, sweetheart, what could you need at this fine 4am?"

"Are you technically a god? Because according to this glowing book I got my hands on-" Tim sounds like he's been on a research binge for an unhealthy amount of time.

"Please tell me you didn't use your vigilante status to steal a book about the Infinite Realms from the Justice League's magic team or whatever they’re called."

"I may have but anyway- wait." Tim stopped mid sentence, like he was reviewing information. Danny has no clue what it could be, but he did know that it would make the conversion complicated. "I didn't tell you I was a vigilante. How did you figure it out?"

"You don't change your voice at all when ordering coffee as Red Robin." Danny says flatly.

"That's fair and also explains why you were okay with me canceling dates last minute. I should invest in a voice changer or something."

"I think you'll be fine, sweetheart. I have a habit of remembering voices of people I’m crushing on, and heightened hearing makes that a little easier."

"If you say so… I'm still gonna look into it." Danny can hear Tim's typing pick up. At this rate the both of them won't be going to sleep anytime soon.

"I'm not going to ask how long you've been awake, but for your own health and mine please stop researching and get some rest. Even the dead are asleep right now." Danny pleads. He knows that they both have things to do later in the day, and Danny doesn't want to fall asleep during his classes.

Tim sighs, "Fine, but after your class tomorrow can you actually answer all my questions?"

"Yes, Hun. Now get away from the computer and go to bed." Danny lightly chuckled.

"I’m going, I'm going." Danny can hear the eye roll in Tim's voice. "Night Danny, sweet dreams."

"Goodnight Tim." Danny smiled as the call ended. Glad that he could get his workaholic boyfriend to go to bed, he relaxes back into his own bed and lets sleep take him.

—------- 4

Tim was on the fire escape connected to Danny's apartment. Hoping to break in and set up his notebooks and other things he collected in his research into the Ghost King and by association the Infinite Realms. Unfortunately for him Danny's last class ended early, as can be seen as Danny entering his own apartment the same time Tim crawls through the window. Tim knows he looks like a kid caught red-handed faking a nonexistent Uncle, Danny's deadpan stare didn't make it better.

"Hey, Danny…" Tim drawls as one of his notebooks falls from his grip to the floor.

"Tim, you could have used the door like a normal person." Danny sighed as he set his bag down. Tim took this time to set up on the floor with his notes spread on the coffee table. "Notebooks? That's not usually your style?"

"Yeah, I would have done my usual spreadsheets and docs but apparently Infinite Realms information crashes any and all tech. So, it's old school for now."

"Oh! Yeah, I forgot about that. I can fix that problem for you while we talk, just give me your tablet, or would you prefer your laptop?"

"Tablet please. Would you mind explaining what you're doing to it while fixing it?" Tim was ecstatic, he loved watching Danny work on his inventions. The methodical way Danny assembled work is a wonderful contrast to how they were made; chaotic and from almost nothing.

Danny's smile was absolutely smitten when he turned back to Tim with his tools. "Of course sweetheart. What do you have to ask me?"

"Okay, so I have a lot, so this is going to take a while." Tim starts as he opens a fresh notebook, pen at the ready.

It was hours of revelations and notebook after notebook. Danny was patient and explained everything the best he could. Tim was pretty sure Danny would ask for his notes after this with how thorough he's being. He honestly wouldn't be this thorough unless it was for a case, but Danny can't remember to tell anyone anything important for the life (death) of him.

"Yeah, parts of the Realms are just kinda ocean-like randomly, so if you visit we have to watch out for that." Danny explained with little fanfare.

"Why are the Infinite Realms like this?" Tim groans emphatically.

"I don't know, man. I just accept and deal with it," Danny replies with a shrug.

"Speaking of things you deal with, you can get summoned, right?"

"Yeah, I can ignore them, technically, but it's like a ringing that keeps getting louder and more annoying till I answer it."

"Huh, interesting. So, does that mean it can be used as an excuse to get out of meetings?" Tim asks with mischief lacing his words

"I… holy shit, I think it can!!!" Tim can see the excitement spread across Danny's face at the realization.

"We are trying it for our next cuddle night, if what is in this book is correct." Tim hands Danny the book he took from Justice League Dark. It's open to a summoning array with instructions underneath it.

"Oh, this is wrong. The array itself is good but the instructions on placement and gifts are either wrong or too vague."

"Oh? I should tell JLD, then."

"Nah, don't. It'll keep me from getting summoned, plus they can always ask you if they need to summon me. Seeing that I'm giving you the correct one."

"Fair, but you better give me all the materials for it then."

"Tim, if it's you summoning me all you need is a small offering and a drop of your blood." Tim looks at Danny in confusion. Danny shakes his head in amusement. "The closer I am to a person, the less required to summon me. At some point all you need is the array and a bit of your blood."

"Oh, that's pretty smart and seems like a perfect way to cause trouble for others" a sly smile spills onto his face, thinking about all the possibilities this could bring.

"Oh, yeah! The amount of times Sam has summoned me at galas is too many to count." Danny's grin is unnaturally wide, with too sharp canines that make Tim swoon as Danny launches into a story of gala shenanigans.

—----- 5

Danny was curled around Tim in his ghost form, acting as an ice pack for his boyfriend's sore ribs. The idiot was overtaxing himself on patrol and took one too many hits. Danny doesn't mind some ghostly cuddling, but he would like it if Tim looked after himself more.

Tim relaxes into Danny more as he types away on his computer. Danny glances at Tim's screen to see that he is looking into the effects the Infinite Realms has on the mortal realm. Which would be sweet if he wasn't using it as a distraction from being banned from current cases.

"Tim, you're supposed to be resting. You know, off the laptop?" Danny lifts his head from Tim's shoulder to actually look at him in the eyes.

Tim sighed, not stopping his typing. "This is resting, I'm barely even hacking into the government."

"Why are you like this?"

"The trauma,” he replied sarcastically. “But anyway, it looks like the government was doing experiments at one point but stopped." Tim hummed as the clicking of the keyboard picked up speed.

“Oh, that’s just the Ghost Investigation Ward.” Danny lets his head drop to his boyfriend’s shoulder, closing his eyes. Tim’s typing only quickened with time and the new information given to him.

“Danny, why are there files about their multiple attempted captures of you, and different files detailing experiment plans that involve vivisecting you‽” Tim was no longer relaxed against Danny’s body.

“I thought they deleted those.” Danny srutines the screen, looking for anything to tell him what has happened to the plans. There in the top right corner is what he was looking for. “Sweetheart, the plans have been defunct, like we worked out when they were getting their shit together.”

“They hunted you for sport,” Tim’s unimpressed stare bore into the side of Danny’s head.

“They got better… morally.Not at the hunting thing,” Danny sighed. “Look, before senior year Tucker, Sam, and I spent the whole summer essentially reforming them. It took a lot of effort but they are ethical now, and even helped fix the shit they wrecked. I promise you they aren't a problem anymore.” Danny pleads.

“Fine.” Tim relents for a moment. "How did you even get them to reform? From what I've read they were pretty biased."

Danny's carefree smile turns sharp. "Blackmail and aggressively shoving evidence to prove them wrong in their faces."

Tim lets out a fond huff as he rolled his eyes, as if he hasn't done worse as Robin. Tim finally lets himself relax, body goes limp against the cold form wrapped around him. A yawn escapes as he feels the pull of sleep cling to him.

“Tired enough to sleep now?” Amusement colored Danny’s voice.

Tim closes his laptop and sets it on a part of the couch not occupied. “Yeah, carry me to bed?”

Danny chuckled as he gently picked up the injured boy and floated them to Tim's bed.

—----- +1

When Tim walked into Danny's apartment he didn't expect to see him putting what was probably Lazarus water into small vials. It looked like he had been doing this for a while. There were several different bags full of the glowing vials with the one he was filling now being one of the last.

"Danny, what are you doing?" Tim asked the dark haired boy, already expecting what the answer might be.

"Remember how I'd said I would look into the Lazarus pits for Jason?" Danny replies as he reaches for more empty vials. Tim hums and moves the vials closer to him. “Turns out to do that I need a shit ton of samples for Frostbite, so here we are.”

Tim sets his things down and settles into helping his boyfriend. "How was dealing with the League of assassins?"

"It was fine. They didn’t notice me, surprisingly.” Danny shrugs, putting more filled vials away.

“I wouldn’t say it was surprising they don’t know about ghosts.” Tim points out.

“Fair. I had a look around, they have a lot of interesting things in their base.”

“Oh, did you take anything besides the lazarus water?” Tim wonders what caught Danny’s attention. From what he remembers it could be just about anything from swords to priceless pieces of art.

“No, but I did see what I’m pretty sure was a spleen in a jar!” Danny’s smile grew almost inhumanly big. “Tim, get this! It was fucking labeled! Labeled!” Danny’s excitement is clear in his voice. Tim couldn’t completely focus on it. He only knows of one spleen that was removed under the care of the league.

“What was it labeled?” Tim asked, nervousness creeping into his voice. Please don’t be his spleen.

Danny’s giggling was barely contained as he answered, “Ra's al Ghul’s emotional support spleen. Outsourced from RR.”

“HE PICKLED MY SPLEEN!!” Tim shouts, startling Danny into almost dropping the vial in his hand.

Danny looks at Tim in confusion for a solid five seconds before Tim saw a look of realization bloom on his face. “Oh Ancients, RR stands for Red Robin. What the fuck! Wait, you’re missing your spleen! How did your spleen end up there??” Danny’s distress only rises as Tim doesn't answer him.

“So. I may have forgotten to tell you something.” Tim says as his clearly innocent smile wobbles with hidden laughter.

“You think so‽” sarcasm dripping from Danny’s voice. “Ancients Tim! Is this how you felt with me?”

“Yes. Suffer.” Tim didn’t mean for this to happen but he will take this happy coincidence for everything it has.

----------- Tag List

@kyrianclawraith , @alice-hazelwood , @phoenixdemonqueen , @may-rbi , @mimilikey , @undead-essence

#dpxdc #tim drake #danny phantom #danny fenton #ghost king danny #5+1 fic #tim drake x danny fenton #Petals and Arrays of The Dead and Those Yet To Be #dp x dc fic #Writing on the walls

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