#So now it’s just a universally hated thing

[inarvii]

₊˚.- NEEDLES AND PINS

Patience breeds success. However, Dr. Veritas Ratio's patience has successfully run thin when it comes to the Intelligentsia Guild's new professor.

OR

Dr. Ratio hate reads about you.

wc - 3.4k

A/N - Basically a Dr. Ratio character study, inspired by the Deftones song Needles and Pins.

Veritas Ratio was a Needle. 

At least, that is what he saw himself as. He was sharp, precise, and calculated. One had to be in this world full of ignorant minds. 

His known prestige amongst scholars was by no accident. Every equation, formula, and theory engraved into his mind was nothing he didn’t want there. His reputation at the Intelligentsia Guild was by no fault other than his own. And he liked it this way. 

So when Dr. Veritas Ratio’s curiosity peaks, he will seek out information regardless of what stands in his way. It just so happens that the rumor of a Genius Society member abandoning their ranking to join the Intelligence Guild not only piques his interest but puzzles him quite a bit. 

Everything Veritas Ratio has ever done—ever accomplished was with intent. That’s just what a needle does. 

And as he reads the passage before him in the worn textbook he fished out of the bookshelves at his university, he intends to figure out your perplexing nature. 

“…and discovered five different constellations that are now crucial to Intercosmic Space Travel, earning the name of the ‘Star Lit Genius’ just after finishing her Associates.”

- Excerpt from Exploring the Starlit Genius

A fool. 

Ratio closes the bulky biography with a booming thud. The echo can be heard bouncing off the walls of his office. 

That is what you were. That is your nature. 

A fool is the only description he can think of as he sharply brings his fingers to his lips. Questions bubble inside him, but the one that escapes himself is, “Why?” 

Why would anyone do such a thing? The mere thought that someone could leave the Genius Society was baffling. Sure, there probably were some that had left, but that had to be Amber Eras in the past. 

It wasn’t ignorance it was foolishness. Perhaps he was right about Genius Society members having a rock up their asses. There was truly nothing that separated them from the mundane, such as himself. They were just as equally subjected to idiocy. 

But could you do such a thing?

You. A scholar blessed by Nous! Given a chance—an opportunity. 

He scoffs, his head jerking to the side as if catching himself in an act. 

He shouldn’t care. 

He doesn’t care. 

He’s over that. 

Ratio sighs and shakes his head. He doesn’t care. You were foolish, that’s all. It was nothing more. 

But who might this fool be? 

Ratio’s cold finger travels around the textbook's hardcover. He quickly flips through the pages. Frustration is evident on his face as his brows furrow the more pages he turns. 

Yet, there’s nothing. 

There’s not one picture of you—the fool—that perplexes his mind. Of course, there wouldn’t be. The Genius Society's “holy” standing wouldn’t allow that. So, he’ll just have to wait for the day he meets the deluded “genius.” 

“Immediately after finishing her Associates, the Star Lit Genius earned funds from the IPC for her findings, causing the young brilliant mind to venture more deeply into the cosmos.”

- Excerpt form Exploring the Starlit Genius

Time had passed and life went on. It had been a month since Veritas’ initial read of your biography. He had learned much. Such as your main fields of anatomy, pathology, chemistry and of course astronomy. Little details of your past are stored neatly in the back of the Doctor’s mind, but he has had no use for it. The new semester had started and as time went on he too started to carry on. Students plagued his mind instead, yet a star glittered somewhere near. 

“Dr. Ratio.”

It’s no voice he’s familiar with. Or maybe one he’s just not accustomed to yet. Most likely a new student in one of his classes.  

He doesn’t even bother to look up. Instead he continues to shuffle through his papers with equations and calculations of the new curriculum that he would soon ignore altogether in his lessons. 

He sighs. “Students are to ask questions during the appointed time.” His voice lacks any interest whatsoever. 

He was tired of students who seemed to think they were special. If anything, the unfamiliar voice is probably a student coming to butter him up before the semester starts to get on his good side. 

“Oh, I’m not a student.” Your voice isn’t familiar, but the syllables that roll off your tongue are ever engraved into his mind. His inner consciousness has read the name so much that he can envision the letters.  

Before he looks up, a smug grin shows on his face. Finally, he could put the foolish mind to the face. It was a gift, really. You, coming straight to his door. You had done all the work for him. 

But then he takes his first look at you. 

Veritas Ratio isn’t one to be rendered speechless, but his surprise is evident. His grin drops at the sight of you. Before, he had imagined that he should have put on his mask of marble to forbid his eyes from the sight of such a foolish person. But now his frustrations were fueled even more by the undeniable fact that a fool could look like…you. 

“Professor Alvarez said you would be the person to go to regarding any Physics textbooks,” you say, and Ratio comes back to reality as your voice vibrates around the large space. You stand in the wide door frame, hands held together in front of you. 

“Ah,” he chokes out. “Our new professor.” He quickly gets up to walk to the bookshelf behind him to rid the sight of you. His steps are light but eager; however, his back stands straight, and his head is held high. This was it? This was the fool he had read about? What a pity, he thinks as he climbs a few steps up the ladder of the bookshelf. Looks wasted on a simpleton. 

Ratio tries to change the topic of conversation while trying not to show his evident surprise. “Say, what does an astronomer have that warrants the need for physics?” He questions. 

You're quick to answer. “Well, the two are connected, I’m sure you’re aware.” 

He is aware—he’s well aware. But he’s also aware of his unwelcomed knowledge of your hatred for anything purely mathematical in any sense, especially physics, which you loathe the most. He even remembers the page clearly in chapter twenty-six, section fou—but that's beside the point. His ever-growing facts about you are a card he cannot yet play. He has only gazed at you for a mere eight seconds. So for now, he will keep his mouth shut. 

“I am,” he says confidently, a slight hint of offense in his voice. “Professors here, however usually tend to their specific fields rather than branching off.” His fingers trace the spine of the dusty books before carefully selecting one and then another. 

“One of my students is infatuated by the correlation of the two. It’s something that I had no interest in during my years of studying.” The sound of you shuffling your feet bounces off the walls. “I’m forced to learn now I suppose.”

“Whatever for? You’re no physicist,” he scoffs.  His hand lingers around a book as he debates himself in his mind. 

“To answer my students' questions, of course,” you answer without a second thought. 

A genius interested in the pursuit of other’s knowledge. Ratio’s frustrations physically manifest in the form of a silent sigh.  An anomaly you were. An Irritating one at that. 

He picks up the book.  

He doesn’t say anything as he descends the ladder—or when he walks to where you stand with an uninterested look on his face. He simply plops the books in your hands with a quick “Here.” Their weight jolts you down briefly. 

“Some of these are limited or editor's copies.” His eyes meet yours for the first time since you came in. “Do try not to dirty them.”

He turns to walk back to his desk, but the sound of your voice stops him. 

“Which is your favorite?”

Ratio turns to walk back to you as he looks you up and down. His fingers fish between the books in your arms, and he pulls out one. It’s encased in golden leather. He lifts it up to hold it out in front of you. 

Your hand grazes the hardcover. You look at it, eying the author. ‘Professor Emeritus.’ You look up at him with a hint of playfulness in your eyes. It makes him uneasy—like the breath has been sucked out of his lungs. But then you have the nerve to smile at him, and he can feel himself getting hot. 

“Thank you,” you say, and you turn away. 

His mind races. His heart beats a bit faster. It’s only when the click of your heels are out of earshot and when the doctor is trying to recover in his desk chair that he realizes he’s forgotten to tell you when to bring them back. 

“...the only way to transcend the limitations of the individual is to have an academic network of mutual learning.”

- Intelligentsia Guild 

He ignores you. 

That’s not to say he doesn't see you. Of course, he does. How could one not see you? It has turned into a game over the past two weeks. He must spot you first to make sure you do not spot him. 

So he does just that. 

He has no use conversing with a Genius Society member turned idiot. He simply gave you those books to help the students you were teaching, nothing more. 

So he carries on with his usual routine of avoiding you. Until, there’s a pile of books with ribbon wrapped around them at his office door. But there’s only three of them. 

Ratio quickly picks up the stack of books and unlocks his office door. When at his desk, he finally notices the note placed neatly between the book and ribbon.  

Thank you for letting me borrow these. They were very insightful. I have saved your recommendation for last. I will bring it back once I have finished it.  

He examines your handwriting—your signature—and how the way you write your A’s and H’s differ from him. 

As Ratio revels in the fact that you took his word at face value, he examines the books. His fingers caress the covers and flip through the pages.  

You made sure not to dirty them. 

“To grow and excel as a Scholar is to reconsider. A Hypothesis that is drawn due to stubbornness and ignorance is a hypothesis from no mind worth listening to.” 

- Professor Emeritus in “Attentive Beings” 

“Come in,” Ratio replies to the three knocks on his study door. This time, he looks up from his reading as soon as he hears the heels click on the polished wooden floor. 

You smile at him—book held in hand. 

He greets you with another disinterested look as he turns his head back to the papers in front of him. “Did you enjoy it?” 

“I certainly did,” you call out. Although he doesn’t look at you, he can hear you walk slowly around his office. He lets out a sigh as he writes down something. 

But then your heels click too close to the round table by the window in the corner of his study, and his mouth grows dry. He looks up as he watches you eye the books he had left open on the table, and put the book you had borrowed down. Your fingernails graze the papers slowly, and you turn the page. 

“You read about me?”

Ratio’s throat closes up at your question as he scurries to organize the files and loose sheets of paper before him just to occupy his hands. He puts a fist to his lips and clears his throat. “I simply wanted to know more about the new Professor who would teach some of my former students,” he affirms boldly. 

“It’s okay.” your eyes lift up from the pages and turn to him with a smile. “I read about you too.” 

He’s not surprised. He shouldn’t be surprised. Any good scholar would do that. But something stirs inside him still. His stomach flips from…excitement. This odd feeling goes unnoticed by you as the doctor quickly covers himself with his swift response “Is that so?” 

“Mhm,” you hum. You grab the book and slowly make your way closer and closer to his desk—to him. “Your quite the mathematician,” you smile. “…and philosopher.” 

His arms fold and his eyes trail your figure as you approach. 

“So tell me, after reading this thing.” You hold up the book. “What’s your ‘philosophy’ on me?” 

He sits there in silence looking at you. 

“Please, Doctor,” you smirk. “Tell us your verdict on the new professor.” 

He’s still hesitant. But the look you give him is like fire on his skin, and he wants to rid of it. So he speaks. “Fine, if you must know.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“You’re a fool. Through and through.”

“Is that so?”

“The evidence is clear.”

“Do elaborate, Doctor.” 

 He sighs again. What has he gotten himself into? “You’re an astronomer.” 

“That I am,” you smirk. Oh, he hates that smirk of yours. That smile of yours. That face of yours. 

“Your an astronomer that hates physics.” Ratio stand subtly and makes his was round his desk to you. “Quite absurd actually.” He crosses his arms and you shift your body to look him in the eye. “You have no interest in anything mathematical when math is the foundation of all that ever was and will ever be.” 

“Mhmm.” And there’s that smirk again as you look up at him. 

“You’ve done mounds of research, and any organization would want you.” His voice is booming and stern as if he were lecturing one of his students. “Yet, you pick the IPC of all things to give your work to.” 

You're a star, you blaze. Yet you choose to be mediocre like him. It's infuriating.

You nod, and he takes a step closer to you. His brows furrow in frustration, and his finger points down at you. 

“And the cherry on top is that you’ve chosen to stray from the Erudition and-“

“Leave the genius Society,” you finish. 

Your voice strikes him. He flinches backward and his back stiffens. You’re toying with him. He wonders if it is something he’s opposed to. 

“Is that why you dislike me, Veritas?”

He’s opposed to it, he concludes. He steps back, and his arms go to his chest once more. “Dislike?” He lets out an exclaimed scoff. “I barely know you, Professor.” He lets the last word roll off his tongue like an insult. 

You hold up the book in your hands and read the title to yourself. ‘Exploring the Starlit Genius’ 

“Barely?” You ask. 

“Nonsense,” is all he can claim as he returns to his desk. 

You lean over it, your spread out hands creating a mess of his once neatly placed papers. “You make a conscious effort not to meet my eyes around here.”

Ever the observant one you were. But he denies it. “Our paths must have never crossed,” he explains. 

You tilt your head with a knowing look as you cross your arms. “Don’t lie Veritas.” 

A shiver goes down his spine. He doesn’t know if it's because it’s the first time he’s ever been called a liar or because you’ve just said his first name. It’s been a while since someone called him something other than “Doctor” or “Professor.” At least that's the quick excuse he can come up with on the spot to ease his jittery mind. 

He’s caught. He’s finally caught. So he defends his hypothesis. 

“I don’t like fools,” he states matter-a-factly. “I tend to stay away from them.” 

“But not from me?” 

Oh your tongue is clever. Not as clever as his, he reassures himself. 

“You seem to know a lot about me.” 

He’s red. He knows it. But he cant seem to find something to throw back at you. His quick wit is anywhere but in the present. 

“Is it because deep down you know I’m right?” Your face softens. 

He stays silent. 

“Out of all the literature about me, you’ve chosen that which  is not written by me.” You run your hands across the book's cover and place it neatly before him. “You’ve been reading the books with my name on them but have never picked up the ones that I myself created. Why is that?” You smile, but your face shows genuine perplexity. 

If he has an answer, he doesn’t tell you. He keeps it to himself. However, the question he asks in response is an answer in itself.

“Why did you leave?” His voice is low—broken even. 

Your smile turns into an expression filled with a touch of sadness. “You ask questions you know the answer to?”

“Don't you dare mock me,” he snaps.

“What else are fools good for?”

He’s silent as his lips purse in anger. There are a few beats before he responds. “Teaching.”

Your face lightens in surprise, and your original charming smile returns. 

He wants to know. He yearns to know. But when you finally give him his answer, he knows it will burn like fire. He’ll finally have a reason why the thing he fought so much for was not all it was chopped up to be. The younger years of his life–wasted to appease THEM—all for nothing. Although he had reached a place of contentment, there was a little boy still in him who wanted to keep his former fantasy alive. 

“The Erudition is something that consumes people as do all Aeons. You know this, right Professor?” 

What you say is common sense. He gives you no answer or satisfaction. But he continues to listen attentively. 

“All intelligent minds are selfish to some extent. The genius society is filled with people who will pursue knowledge regardless of the people hurt. This includes themselves.In order to be a person of pure logic—a genius…” You pause for a second. “…you must lack empathy to some extent.”

You turn to meet him, and he swears he’s never seen any eyes more beautiful and full of honesty than yours. “And I have too much.”

And then, at your words, something clicks in his brain. 

Another smile takes over your lips as you face your body towards him. “And I believe you have more than you let on, Doctor.”

He’s in silence. 

He says nothing because he can’t say something. 

You walk around to the other side of his desk where he sits. His eyes follow your ever move while you do so. Your hand unlocks the clasp of your satchel and disappears inside. When it comes out, a book appears before him. 

He takes it in his hands tenderly and then looks at the title. ‘Philosophy of the Stars,’ he reads to himself. Then his eyes wander to the bottom of the cover, and there’s your name printed in gold. He looks up at you expectantly. 

Of course, when his eyes land on your face, your expression is full of glee. “If you wish to learn more about me, I hope you’ll do so through a book with all of my own words.”

You say nothing more as you turn on your heels and leave his office. Leaving Ratio with a feeling of shock and emptiness. 

His hand comes up to his face, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sits there in silence and realizes…

You are none of what he had made you out to be…

Not a fool. Not an idiot. Not a genius. 

But a kind soul. 

He realizes that he was good enough. That he was not a fool either. Just a young boy who cared. 

His eyes linger on the book you left him— the book that his hands refuse to put down. He opens it to the very first page, and he finds your writing in it and a note that slips out on his lap. 

For the mediocre Dr. Veritas Ratio. 

Your name is signed as elegantly as before. He puts down the book on his desk and picks up the folded note on his lap. 

Feel free to dirty this. But keep it clean if you wish to auction it. It will be worth more with both our names on it, so don’t undersell. It is yours to do with as you please.   

One thing Veritas knows for sure is that this book won’t leave his possession in all his years to come. 

“THEIR silence was deafening.”

- Genius Society–Erudition, Astral Express Data Bank

Dr. Ratio is sharp, precise, and calculated. He considers himself to be all those things; he is a needle. 

But if Dr. Veritas Ratio is a needle, then you are a pin. 

ty for reading. reblogs are appreciated <3

#skip.writes #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai #honkai fanfic #dr. ratio #dr. ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #honkai star rail x you #penacony #star rail #honkai x reader #hsr dr ratio #aventurine x reader #fem reader

[luveline]

I love your KBD universe, I know that Beth is having a hard time with being the weird kid and I just have to say as a lover of weird things and people I would love to see something where Bethie comes home from school happy to have met someone who LOVES that she’s a little weird!

dad!steve and his weird girls <3 mom!reader, 1k

When you get home from work with the big kids in tow, Steve’s gonna kiss you stupid. With baby Wren gurgling on his tummy and less-baby Dove sitting by his head where he lays on the couch, he’s never been this happy. He’ll be happier when the big girls are home, but for now, he’s snug as a bug, treated by his second youngest to a buffet of affection. 

“Love you,” Dove says, kissing his cheek for the tenth time in the last two minutes. He can’t stop laughing.

“I love you, too!” he says, shifting his hand to give Wren some more room. 

“Love you, dad,” Dove says.

“I know, baby, I know. Thank you for the kisses, you’re so nice.” 

Dove kisses him again. “You’re happy,” she says. 

“So happy. Can I get another kiss, you think?” 

He turns into her. She’s sitting too high to be cuddled; all Steve can do is take in her sweetness. He can’t believe how quickly her babyhood has passed into toddlerhood, and she’s been sort of a nightmare, but she’s also his little girl. She’s your daughter, her sisters’ sister. She was always going to be lovely, and Steve feels it like a loving punch as she noses at his ear. “Daddy,” she laughs, “you’re too warm.” 

“I’m blushing, babe, I’m getting all these nice kisses!” He laughs like an idiot and decides he must hug her, pulling his arm up and scooping her into his chest. 

She groans in annoyance before she realises what he’s doing, “Hug!” she says excitedly. 

“Hug!” he echoes, wrapping his arm around her. She’s starting to look less like a baby and more like a little tiny kid, which he hates and loves at the same time. “Aw, I love you, Dovey.” 

The door clatters open. Wren jumps at the sound, hiding her face in Steve’s neck, to which he gives a good back rubbing. “It’s okay, bubby, it’s just your mommy. Don’t be silly, huh? Just mommy. You’re gonna be happy when she turns the corner.” 

“Shoes,” you’re saying from the door, though Steve can’t see you, he can tell you’re smiling. “Shoes, Beth, then you can tell dad.” 

“Daddy, we’re home!” Avery shouts. 

“I can hear you, babe!” he shouts back, not unkindly. 

“Dad, I have something to tell you!” Beth shouts. 

Steve hoists himself up into a sitting position, two babies in his arms, knowing you’ll know he’s laid down all day from the mess of his hair alone but not trying to hide it. You can do whatever you want on your vacation days, you’d teased. Just make sure you feed the kids.

“Hi,” you say, appearing in the doorway, two balls of energy at your legs that bolt for Steve the second they see him. 

“Girls, I don’t have long enough arms,” he says, trying to cuddle them all, even though it’s impossible. 

He finds himself suddenly relieved of the second youngest. Dove might love her father, but she adores her mother, and she hasn’t seen you all day —she slinks down out of his hold and through the mess of her sisters to grab at you, to which you gratefully receive her, pulling her up to station on your hip. “Hi, gorgeous,” Steve hears you say. Avery pushes him back, climbing into his lap with a happy sigh. “Miss me today? I missed you,” you ask sweetly. 

“What did you want to tell me, Beth?” Steve asks curiously, grinning as Avery makes herself comfortable on his thigh, her arm wrapping behind his neck. He’s happy to see everybody else so happy, even if it’s hectic. 

Beth beams up at him with her brightest smile in weeks. She’s been having such a hard time at school, Steve wondered if he could start homeschooling, coming home upset nearly every other day. It isn’t fair. His relief that she’s had a good day is palpable. 

“Dad, there’s a new girl! Her name is Francesca and she’s got the same birthday as me and guess what!” 

“What?” he asks. 

“She said she likes being weird!” Beth’s eyes glow shiny with joy. “Cos Hilly called me weird, and she said she likes being weird. She said we can be best friends.” Beth hits his knee in her excitement. “She liked me, dad.” 

“Why wouldn’t she like you?” he asks, wondering how old he’ll have to be before he stops tearing up at Beth’s good heart. He blinks quickly to dispel any tears before they can gather. “Her name is Francesca? When did she move? Do you think she wants to come for dinner?” 

Your laugh is a snort. “Steve.” 

“What? Friends come for dinner. Best friends! Did you speak to her mom?” he asks you. 

“I didn’t see her.” 

“Don’t worry, Beth, I’ll speak to her in the morning. We’ll see if they want to come for dinner or go swimming or something.” 

Beth’s smile gets wider, “Really?” 

“Yeah, really!” He gives Avery a little shake. “Did you meet Francesca?” 

Avery nods. “She’s pale and she has big hair. Curly hair, too.” Her voice is a tad scratched, perhaps from the cold out. 

Steve lets his weight fall into the arm, cautious not to squish your baby, a grin on his face to rival Beth’s. She gets the memo and climbs up, claiming that last bit of space under the baby to hug his stomach. He tries to wrap them all up, gurgly Wren, exuberant Beth, and poor cold Avery. “You coming?” he asks you. 

There’s dinner to make. You ignore it, crossing the mess of the living room to flop down on the couch next to them all. Steve lifts his face in that way you always recognise, and is pleased as punch when you peck him quickly. 

You don’t realise how Steve thinks of you, he’d say. Don’t realise he wants another kiss, then another, that you’re on his mind when you aren’t there, and dominate it when you are. He loves his babies, but he loves you too. He wants another kiss. 

“Steve,” you scold lightly, surprised as he presses two kisses to the corner of your mouth. 

“Sorry. Beth, tell me more about Francesca. What did she say exactly?” 

Beth takes a deep breath. 

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[leaderwonim]

unconditional love. ✧ park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: bittersweet fluff, coming of age angst

you liked park sunghoon, you truly did. he was kind, intelligent, and had that soft introverted persona on the outside.

when you got to know him, he became the most funny and loudest person to ever exist, which had your heart doing backflips.

it wasn’t him that was the issue. it was you. you always had commitment issues, never being able to settle down because of your past pulling you behind. i mean—how could anyone ever like you? you felt as thought you were too loud, too annoying, too irritable, just too much.

despite your brain constantly bringing you down, park sunghoon loved you. he loved every single piece of you, the way you’d blow your perfect hair out of your face as you concentrated on the textbook in front of you, the way your eyebrows would furrow when you didn’t quite catch a question or answer, the way you’d prop your head onto your knees as a way to comfort yourself.

god, park sunghoon swore you were the one. he didn’t care that his friends warned him about your earned title of being a ghoster when it came to relationships, he didn’t care that it felt like he was constantly putting in more effort than you.

as long as he’s got you, he doesn’t care. so how did the two of you end up in this situation?

“i don’t get it,” sunghoon frowns, “what did i do wrong?”

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say exasperatedly, “in fact, you were perfect sunghoon. you were everything i wanted and more—it’s just me.”

park sunghoon hated the classic it’s me not you excuse when it came to situations like these. but because it’s you, he lets it slide, even though he already feels the tears coming.

“i don’t want to hurt you any longer, hoonie. you have to understand i’m ending this because i care about you too much to put you through hell.”

sunghoon solemnly nods, knowing whatever he’ll say won’t change anything, that it’s already too late and you’ve already made up your mind.

it’s cruel, he thinks. life. how it could be so depressing and meekly all at once.

it wasn’t until a year later that sunghoon and you crossed paths again. you two were now sophomores in college, and had even attended the same university.

you had gotten a boyfriend, finally deciding to settle down after maturing and realizing how much of a piece of shit you were to all the boys at your high school.

his name was heeseung and he had treated you like a princess, reminding you of how sunghoon used to treat you back in senior year.

now here you were, sitting on one of the university steps with your head hung low. your parents had given you the call about them divorcing, right in the middle of your sophomore year. you were miles away, and was heartbroken knowing your family was splitting in two without you being there physically to support them.

“hey, you okay?”

you knew that voice better than anyone.

“hoon?” you sniffle. “i’m sorry—why am i even calling you that.”

“it’s okay.” he reassures you, patting your back as he takes a seat. “what’s wrong?”

“parents are getting divorce,” you scoff. “guess thats karma for all the things i put you through.”

“don’t say that.” sunghoon gently wipes away your tears, frowning when he sees more appear.

“you shouldn’t even be comforting me, i treated you like shit sunghoon, i got a new boyfriend right after i said i couldn’t settle down with you.”

“who cares?” sunghoon says, and for the first time, you don’t see the romantic love he used to have in his eyes for you. “we’re young! of course you’re going to find other people.”

you’re in awe at the maturity sunghoon is displaying. you knew it took a lot of courage for him to do so.

“why are you being so nice, sunghoon?”

“the world is already cruel, yn.” sunghoon sighs. “so therefore, i won’t be.”

and although his words won’t stop the divorce of your parents or the sadness filling your chest, it makes you feel a tad bit lighter, knowing that you had someone like park sunghoon in your life.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen texts #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours #enhypen ff #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon x you #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon fanfic

[dalliancekay]

We've been talking for millions of years

Aziraphale was clearly taken by Angel!Crowley from the moment he met him. I think the 6000 years could be read as when the whole human breeding thing starts. Even God says there's been many nice days in the Garden. How many? The count didn't start until the day they left Eden I think. When we meet Aziraphale and Angel!Crowley in Before the Beginning, Earth was still an idea in the works. And the War didn't happen. Or Crowley surely would have been more cautious. So I hope they have met and talked and Crowley grumbled about how unfair it all was.

And Aziraphale tried to placate him that it will all work out somehow, there’s a Plan. And they kept meeting, Crowley showing Aziraphale the prettiest corners of the universe, Aziraphale telling Crowley exciting developments re: Earth.

I wouldn’t try to guess at how far their relationship has gone… maybe relationships of the kind we know now weren’t invented yet and still, these two loved each other without knowing anything about it. After all, no other angels seem to have ANY relationships of any kind. Apart from higher or lower levels of condescension towards each other.

Then the Great War came and tore them apart. After knowing each other for millions of years and their close more-than-friendship, their world falls apart. After all, Crowley tried to do the right thing. And Aziraphale did too but it wasn’t to be. Yet. But. Their story wasn’t finished yet.

Aziraphale is relieved when he’s sent down to Earth to guard the brand new humans from the demons he has heard that the damned angels have been turned into. He’s a bit fearful about the whole thing but glad to be away and keen, if a bit anxious to see the project he’s discussed/worked on for so long.

Crowley hates Hell. He hates it cos it’s not what he wanted or what he thought he was joining. He has been lied to. He’s not regretting his decision to turn his back on Heaven, no. He still thinks they’ve made too many crappy decisions. But he despises what the Rebellion became.

When Beelzebub asks for a volunteer to go up to the new planet and tempt the fresh innocent human couple into joining them, he volunteers, even if only to escape the claustrophobic walls and the mess nobody ever clears up.

Tempting comes easy to him. He imagines talking to his lost friend. ‘But why wouldn’t you try fruit from this one tree. What’s the problem with knowing things anyway? Wouldn’t you want to decide by yourself Eve? And Eve does make a decision.

Crowley’s worried now. Not for himself. He’s without hope but did he hurt humans by doing this. He didn’t mean to. He doesn’t really want them to go to Hell. Or Heaven for that matter. He only thinks they should be free to make their own choices. If only he had someone to talk to.

He spotted a distant angel earlier. Reminded him of, of… the light hair...anyway. They held a flaming sword but surely he can dodge that if needs be. He could just try for a simple chat. He has no idea how demons are talked about in Heaven. But he guesses the angel might just try to smite him. Worth the risk. Everything feels so raw and strange here. Maybe stealing a bit of familiarity will help him settle his nerves.

He decides to slither over and ask how the angel feels about what’s been done. Will they be furious. Hurt? Guilty? Oh. It’s him. It’s too late now. Always too late. It’s him. Aziraphale. Aziraphale. It is HIS angel. What is he going to do. FUCK! Well. No better way to find out. He could just tease him like the old times. What's the worst that can happen.

Shitfuck but he smells good. These new senses will take a while to get used to: “Well that went down like a lead balloon.” A lead balloon? Whatthefuck even is that. Oh for Someone's sake.

Aziraphale’s standing on top of the Garden wall, squeezing his fingers with worry - what exactly has happened. What has possessed him to give away his sword. Did he disappoint God? Heaven? It doesn’t FEEL wrong to help them. If only he had someone to talk to.

Another angel? What. A snake? Oh. Oh. They are changing. Could it be? His heart will surely explode into million pieces…!!!! A lead balloon?!? “Sorry what was that?” Does he remember me? I think he does. I think he does. He’s here. As lovely as always.

I’ll keep him safe. Safe. I will keep him safe this time.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #aziraphale my beloved #good omens thoughts #before the beginning #garden of eden #good omens eden #kaypost

[matan4il]

On Friday, during Passover, a terrorist attack took place in Israel. The terrorist attacked an 18 years old girl on the streets of Ramla, stabbed her in the back, leaving her seriously wounded, as he ran away. The girl was in the city visiting a friend, whose father and brother heard the girl's screams and chased the terrorist. The dad, a civilian with a personal weapon, neutralized the attacker. The girl's state has since improved, but she's still hospitalized.

There is footage of the terrorist chasing the young girl down the street, stabbing her in the back without even stopping, causing her to collapse to the ground, as he continues, and flees the scene.

The anti-Israel protests on college campuses in the west are horrifying to watch. They were bad enough when they started on Oct 8, while Israel wasn't even counting its dead yet, because we were still fighting terrorists invading our country and endangering our civilians, so Israel's army was still not free to do anything in Gaza, but these protests have somehow gotten so much worse. They've become more openly antisemitic (we've seen more and more people doing the Nazi salute, and using signs calling for a "final solution," the whitewashed Nazi term for their intended annihilation of all Jews):

They are now more openly calling for blood (in the past week or so, we've seen no calls for a ceasefire, instead we've heard chants to kill Zionists, to burn Tel Aviv, for Iran to fire rockets at Israel, meaning at its civilian population, and to globalize the intifada, a wave of anti-Israel terrorist attacks. During the second intifada alone, over 1,200 people in Israel were murdered). They've also become more physically violent, with more and more Jewish and pro-Israel people being assaulted, and even requiring medical care:

I've been seeing so much, and it's being talked about on the news here more than you can imagine. The presidents of Israeli universities even did something unprecedented, that they've never done during any of Israel's former conflicts, no matter how bad those got. After publishing repeated calls for foreign universities to fight antisemitism and protect their Jewish students, the presidents of Israeli universities have now published an open letter, lamenting that the problem might be beyond the capacity of university presidents abroad to solve, and addressing Jewish students, stating they have a safe space here, offering them any assistance with pursuing it.

The worst protests are in the US, at Ivy League universities of all places, but I've heard horrifying things about universities in Canada, France, Australia as well... I feel like I can't really do this subject justice in just one post, so if I only share with you one last thing about it, this following vid would be it, because it's bigger than just the protests, and at the same time, partly explains how so many people have been recruited into them. It's a typical example of how in this complex conflict, real facts (such as vids filmed on the ground) are often taken out of context and manipulated to present a simplistic narrative, in which Zionists (i.e the overwhelming majority of Jews) are presented as intrinsically violent and evil, while ignoring and even lying about the anti-Jewish violence at play:

Jews and Jewish allies abroad, please take care of yourselves! And don't let all the hate get to you... Just because there's a lot of them, doesn't mean they're right. Or even that they're the majority. They just give that impression by being more vocal than anyone else, and taking over public spaces, pushing everyone else out.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack #resources #Instagram

[f0point5]

Jealous Emilia after they get together plss I am beggingggg cook this for us plssssss 🙏🙏🙏

Not me rewriting this no less than four times and still hating it 😂 but it’s not going to get any better haha. This was hard to write because I actually don’t see Emilia as the jealous type. I kind of drew off a lot of her known insecurities and alluded to her kind of struggling with the “wag” role a bit so it’s not just her reacting poorly to Max being fawned over by a girl because I don’t think that would be true to her character. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

✨Set in Jeddah 2024✨

And I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

If there’s one thing to be said for the Jeddah paddock, it’s pretty at sunset. You watch people moving through the paddock bathed in golden light. The ground looks like the yellow brick road. Even though it’s getting cooler now as it gets closer to qualifying, you still choose to sit inside Red Bull hospitality. You’re also sitting inside because Max said he wanted to hang out before quail. Even though he’s spent the last forty-five minutes talking to one of the hospitality guests.

Amy, something or other. She races GT cars in some series you’ve never heard of. You’re not sure what connections got her the invite to the garage but Max had been herded away by one of the media reps to take pictures with her so she must be someone’s daughter. They seem to have hit it off, you note. He’s in full maxplaining mode, bending down to the line of his own hand as he illustrates what looks like an apex. Amy isn’t even watching his hands, she’s watching Max. Hazel eyes just sparkling as she memorises every inch of him. Yeah, you know that look well enough.

And it’s not that you mind. He likes to talk racing, he likes racers. It’s not like you know what it feels like to driver a car at top speed, and more importantly you don’t want to know. The hot laps with Max were more than enough. You can’t be everything to him and you don’t need to be. You tell yourself you don’t want to be. It’s good he has other people to talk to, because it’s not like you can ever really understand his competitive streak. The man who knows nothing except how to win will not always be able to relate to the girl who has always been too afraid to lose.

No, it’s not bothering you that Max is talking to her. It’s bothering you that she has the most obvious crush on him since…no, actually, this is the most obvious crush ever. She’s played with her hair so many times you just know karma is going to make her bald someday. You hope you’re there somehow.

“Hey,”

You jump at the sound of Checo’s voice. He sits down at the end of the table, brandishing Kitkat, which he slides over to you.

“Max has made a new friend,” he says, nodding in Max’s direction.

You tear open the wrapper with far too much aggression. “So I see,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

“She races, right?”

You nod, biting into the chocolate. “GT, apparently,”

“Lots in common,” Checo says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “You have to watch your back,”

You know he’s joking. You know that in no universe are you in competition with her. And yet, his words sink under your skin under your blood is curdling at the sight of Max laughing at something Amy says.

“I don’t have to watch anything,” you say with shrug, turning towards Checo. “If she can take him she can have him.” You push your hair over one shoulder and run your tongue over your teeth.

“Whoa,” Checo chuckles, throwing his hands up like he’s being faced with a hungry lion. You suppose since he has a wife, he knows the look well enough. “I was joking.” When you don’t react, he shakes his head. “It’s Max,”

You know what he means. It’s Max, not Chuck Leclerc. It’s Max, not Danny Ric. It’s Max, not Checo. But it’s Max. You don’t have to worry he’s going to lose his mind over the actresses or supermodels, but he sure seems to be respectfully admiring his female alter ego.

It’s like he can sense you thinking about him, it’s uncanny, really. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him walking towards your table with Amy in tow.

Fake smile, it’s fine, she’s just a fan.

Max introduces you, and you smile and shake her hand and ask her if she having a nice day, because you’re Max’s girlfriend, so you owe it to him to be polite. She has no such obligation, although you might be imagining her flinch when Max says the word girlfriend.

“I think it’s the best day of my life,” she says in answer to your question. The telltale flicker of her eyes in Max’s direction as they sit down almost making you roll yours.

Max doesn’t notice, he’s more interested in taking your Kitkat out of your hand and taking a bite. He bites it so that all four sticks have the end missing and you wear you’ve never been so disgusted by this man. For a second, you think Amy can have him.

“Amy races GT cars, like the ones we tested in Portugal,” he says to you now, his hand disappearing under the table to rest on your thigh and trace circles with his thumb like it’s a habit. “We are just talking about setting up a test for her with Verstappen com,”

Oh, great. So not only is she utterly bewitched by the ocean eyes, you’re making her dreams come true. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Ah,” is all you say, sharing a look with a smirking Checo.

“That would really be such a dream come true,” Amy says, and you almost laugh. “I’m a big fan of yours, I think it’s so cool that you’re involved with things outside formula one. You should come to a race sometime. I owe you paddock passes,”

You met him three hours ago, and he isn’t even the one who invited you. Do you owe him a blowjob as well, Amy?

“Yeah. Our schedule is a bit hectic but yeah, it would be good to fit that in soon,” Max says, turning to you. “Right?”

What am I? The secretary? Because in case you didn’t notice, she didn’t fucking invite me.

You just shrug.

“GT racing doesn’t exactly draw the influencer crowd,” you are definitely not imagining the way her eyes slide over to you before she looks back at Max to say, “it’s really good racing,”

You zone out right then and there. It’s like your brain short circuits from the energy it’s taking not to reach over, grab this girl by her stringy extensions, and rip. If she and Max keep talking, you don’t hear it. You don’t want to hear it. You notice Checo noticing your discomfort, even as he engages the other two in conversation. For all his quirks, Checo reads human behaviour much better than Max. Though you don’t need to be a body language expert to see how much this girl likes him.

She looking at him like she wants to eat him, hanging on unspoken words, fingers twitching on the table like she’s desperate to touch him. And he’s nodding along, because they’re so aligned that whatever she says he agrees with, and the maxplaining is one-handed now but no less enthusiastic, and you’re about to dig your nails into his skin because he is not going to have one hand almost up your skirt while another woman is flirting with him.

All these thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of one of the Red Bull media managers.

“Amy, we were hoping to get some pictures of you with the car, if you’re free?”

“Yeah, sure, one second,” she says, turning to Max. “Which way is the garage again?” Like she doesn’t have someone who clearly just came from the garage standing right next to her.

“Just through there, keep going straight,” Max says, pointing to the corridor with engineers walking in and out. You give the girl the benefit of the doubt that she’s not that stupid, just desperate.

Reluctantly, she gets to her feet. “So, I’ll give you a call to set up the test?”

“Yeah, sure,” Max says. “Or you can call Raymond. He’ll put your team in touch with the right people,”

“Okay, awesome,” she says, leaning down enough that you can see right down her shirt. “It was really great to meet you. And I meant it about the GT race,” and then, as if remembering she can’t be rude, she glances at Checo. “You guys, too,”

You wave her off, and your smile doesn’t even fall. Because it’s funny. It’s funny that a grown woman would behave like that in front of a man’s girlfriend. It’s funny that a woman gunning for sponsorship would behave like you does regular shifts in something called the “Champagne Room”.

And it’s absolutely hilarious that Max turns to you, without a care in the world, and says, “I’ve got such a headache. I stood up into the cupboard in the garage, it hurt so bad,”

You give him tight smile and pull out your phone to text Lily to see if she’s still with Alex or if she’s free for a catch up.

“What?” You hear Max say above you. You ignore him. “What? She the-“ You look up just in time to see that Checo is mouthing something to Max. “Jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” you snap, leaning back in the your chair to glare at both of them. They give each a mocking grin. “Yeah, very funny,” this sets them off snickering like school kids. “Fuck both of you.”

You get up and stalk through the room and back towards the garage. You don’t even know what you’ll do when you get there since being Max’s girlfriend had put an end to you just wandering down the pitlane and allowed in any garage. Maybe you’ll just try and find GP. If Max doesn’t catch up to you first. You can hear him calling you.

“Leibling, wait,” he’s right behind you now, and you hear him almost stumbling as he leans forward to catch you by the wrist.

You shrug him off, but stop at the door to his driver room and push it open, jerking your head to order him inside. He may be a dick, but he still deserve for the whole team to know his business. He steps into the room, reaching for your waist but you move out of his way and leave him to close the door while you lean against the physio table on the other side of the room.

He sighs when he sees how you’re looking at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I mean, I did. Not at you. I didn’t think Checo was being serious,” he defends, and by the end of his sentence he’s fighting an incredulous smile and you squeeze the edge of the physio bench to stop yourself pulling your hair. Or his.

How can this guy understand complex tyre strategy but not basic human interaction?

“You didn’t think he was serious that I was annoyed by someone flirting with you in front of me?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow. “And that I wouldn’t be annoyed at you making fun of me for it?”

Max scoffs. “She wasn’t flirting with me,”

“Oh, please.” You let out a scoff of your own. “You didn’t notice me flirting with you for three years, do not pretend you’re an expert,”

“I noticed,” Max argues, “I just didn’t take it seriously,”

“Which is why you have no leg to stand on,”

“Right, because I was just supposed to believe that you suddenly-“

“It wasn’t exactly sudden-“

“For God’s sake,” Max groans, an expression of abject confusion twisting his face. “What are we even fighting about?”

“You enjoying Lella Lombardi over there slobber all over you, and enjoying it,” the exasperation gets worse when Max’s eyes widen like this is the first he’s hearing of this entire discussion.

“I’m- she- what?” He splutters, his head shaking in disbelief. “Is this one of those Tiktok pranks?”

“I get that she’s a pilot and that makes her automatically interesting, but until I hear otherwise, you’re still in a relationship,”

Max looks at you like you’ve grown a second head; shock, concern, and a good amount of unadulterated disgust. “You can’t think I was looking at her…like that,”

The way he says it, like he’s afraid to catch cooties, like it’s it’s inconceivable, like you didn’t still have bruises of your hips in the shape of his fingertips, takes all the fight out of you. Checo was right; it’s Max. It’s feels like someone’s let all the air out of a balloon. Your shoulders slump and you sigh.

“Because that would be crazy?” You lift yourself onto the physio bench as you speak. You’re not even really sure what you’re asking. “Max Verstappen, who likes only one thing on earth, that one thing being racing, attracted to another driver rather than his influencer accessory girlfriend?”

“Actually, I like two things,” he says with that boyish smirk that has been making your stomach do backflips for longer than you care to admit.

“Stop laughing at me,” you whine, fighting the urge to smile.

“I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that she upset you. I’m sorry that I upset you,” he says, taking a careful step closer to you, but he stops there. “Even if I don’t know what I did,”

He really has no idea. He is painfully, adorably clueless.

“Nothing,” you say, because you don’t know either. Sometimes it’s just inexplicably overwhelming being Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. “Just you being you, I guess,”

Max frowns at that. “I didn’t know being myself was so offensive,” he mumbles, and you instantly feel guilty. You of all people shouldn’t make him feel bad for how much space he takes up. You of all people know how much that bothers him.

“No, it’s not that. It’s not-“ you struggle for a way to explain it. Max takes the opportunity to cross the rest of the room and stand in front of you, his expression telling you he’s waiting for you to finish. “It’s not about who you are, but sometimes the way people act around you is just…and you’re so used to it, you don’t even…you just forget who you are sometimes, Max,”

He nods soberly. “Yeah. I do, and I’m sorry,” he says. He hooks his hands under your knees and pulls your legs apart and slots between them as he drags you to the edge of the bench so that you’re pressed against him, leaning back to look up at him. “But I never forget who you are, which is the most important bit,”

You can’t help but smile at him. He’s so simple. And not because he’s unintelligent, but because he’s guileless, because who he is has never scared him. He smiles back, and it’s unguarded and unbridled and you almost forgive that girl because you’ll be damned if you don’t have a crush on him, too.

“Was she really flirting with me?” He asks curiously, looking down as his hands find your and entwine your fingers.

“Oh, yeah,” you say, and he frowns, the wheels working in head as he tries to figure out how he didn’t notice. “Like me at your mum’s on Christmas Eve in 2020 level of obvious,”

“Well,” he says with a huff. “She just blew her chance at a test,”

“You don’t have to-“

“Wait, you were flirting with me at Christmas at my mum’s?”

#max verstappen x reader

[fishareglorious]

In the wake of the new pizza hut collab and that one specific emote of schneider threateningly looming behind pizza hut regulus with a gun, I got possessed and created an au where ezra, matilda and regulus work with each other in the same branch.

May or may not have gotten carried away with it. AU below.

matilda is the long suffering branch manager that doesn't even want to work there. this poor french girl is really going through it (customer service)

alas she stays because of a certain redheaded customer. sonetto visits sometimes to check on regulus and that the store is relatively close to where she lives.

matilda constantly five seconds away from firing everyone and handing out her resignation but then sonetto walks inside and suddenly everything is good (sotheby just accidentally created ketamine in the back)

she hates her job because all the people that visit here are fucking lunatics.

ezra is the least problematic of the employees and he sometimes supplies the mushrooms because of his mycology hobby, but one time he accidentally switched up the button mushrooms with similar-looking hallucinogenic ones and matilda put a stop into it because a customer got high (desert flannel)

kanjira is their one and only delivery driver and while she drives matilda up the wall by always stealing from the cash register, she'd terrifyingly efficient and fast with her deliveries (at the expense of being a menace in the highway)

regulus works as an all-rounder but sometimes takes kanjira's place whenever she's not around. she always gets a traffic ticket. she and kanjira are in a competition on who can amass the most

apple is here and is the only other voice of reason working in this place. matilda respects him because he's the only one that can rein in regulus

The one story that started this whole AU. sorry schneider's dead in this universe

one day vertin comes around to catch up with regulus. regulus was on the process of serving pineapple pizza when suddenly someone appears behind her to chop her in the neck and curses her out in the most horrific ear-bleeding italian. vertin catches a glimpse of regulus' attacker, then crumples into the floor in shock because its her dead mafia girlfriend.

matilda comes to the scene only to see regulus passed out and vertin silently weeping on the floor.

someone still has to serve the damn pizza. fucks sake.

after the pineapple pizza incident there's now a ghost haunting the store that really really has an agenda against pineapple pizza. at this point matilda is very much inclined to blackout the hawaiian in the menu just to placate the damn ghost.

A comprehensive list of all the weirdos that come in here:

there's an absolutely pleasant and nice lady that sometimes eats here but the thing is she has this thing where she puts yellow bug things in her pizza as some kind of condiment and its so damn weird because those things are still ALIVE. but she gets a pass because she's done no trouble and is nice to everyone

one time the store had a break in and for some reason all the greens in the inventory were eaten. everyone checks the security cameras. it was. it was a fucking deer.

(yes, jessica is an actual deer here.)

constantine came here once only to pull the "i demand to speak to your manager" thing

pickles at one point ordered something here by himself. in the words of regulus: what the dawg doin?

ezra's collegemates (the laplace crew) sometimes visit and its a hit or miss depending on who is it

the last time x came here the stove got legs and sentience then it left pizza hut and never came back. some say it became a famous track and field runner

medicine pocket was banned like. years ago even before matilda started working here. does it stop her? no. he caught wind of sotheby's ketamine thing and tried to recruit her at one point. matilda chased them off with a spray bottle.

mesmer jr is the least chaos-inducing person of the group but at the same time because of the childhood friends that have baggage with matilda the tension between then is. frankly you could cut through it with a knife

one time she, vertin, and matilda were in the same proximity and regulus passed by and started asphyxiating

sometimes their research advisor enigma gets dragged here because someone has to feed him something other than his twentieth cup of black coffee. matilda has beef with him for some reason.

the only people matilda remotely respects that has entered this pizza hut is shamane and kaalaa baunna

but at the same time she has witnessed kaalaa stumble here at an insanely late/early hour with three giant cups of coffee then proceeded to chug all of it down then order something. she is visibly shaking from the caffiene. matilda is scared.

matilda called shamane 'dad' once and after that she has sworn to never show her face to him again

pavia exists here but keeps a wide berth of pizza hut because it contains the insult to italian cuisine

one time a foreign singer (isolde) came here to have lunch with her wife then got possessed by schneider and started angrily lambasting and threatening to haunt everyone from the grave if they've ever dared to eat pineapple pizza. she later passed out then woke up all normal again

lilya is also on the pizza hut blacklist because she crashed her motorcycle into the windows trying to pick vertin up

broke as hell researcher windsong stumbles into pizza hut with the biggest smile on her face as if she won the lottery (she did. it was the amount of the cheapest thing in the menu) then proceeds to hork down her food like she's starving (she probably was.) fun fact this is inspired by her voiceline that is basically the same story

bear with me on my vilasong propaganda for a sec.

local schoolteacher vila comes into the store because her student wandered off and is now talking windsong's ear off, and then the two have this weird but sweet meetcute that's almost the same as canon

windosng tells her "oh god hey i swear im not a child abductor" then vila just laughs and fucking sniffs her and says "yeah i know you don't smell threatening at all."

they are both so strange. next time they come together hand in hand.

matilda is malding can't she have a nice meetcute like that with sonetto (minus the whole. child abduction statement. and the sniffing thing. actually she just wants a normal nice meetcute)

37 came there with the aperion gang and all she did was calculate the precise circumference of the pizza and then tell the matilda it was an imperfect circle. matilda then says 'do i look like i give two shits about whether or not this is a perfect circle. fuck you want me to do' but in customer service language

would arcana even step inside a pizza hut.

a knight sometimes comes here and he and apple are the investments in pizza hut's old men yaoi stocks.

hofmann and marcus came in once and marcus was the one trying to order but the poor thing kept stuttering so badly that hofmann heaved out the most world-weary sigh and ordered for both of them

besmir came in there once while vertin was there and vertin shot up from her seat and went 'MOTHER???!?!??!?!?!!!!!!!!" and thus came the most awkward family reunion that happened. (regulus screamed out "SO YOU HAVE A MOTHER" while the two were watching each other awkwardly not knowing what to do)

#reverse 1999 #certified storm moments #im not tagging anyone there is so many people here #thanks to l3xdrigo for letting me drop this insanity yesterday on their messages #there is no canon info or really anything about vertin's mom but im just gonna make it that she's besmir here

[yoonivy]

gold rush; part 1.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, eventual smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?

warnings. aegon + viserys + ramsay being besties. oc is a bit cringe but at least she is free :’) !!

word count. 8k+

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

---

The days are growing chillier. The leaves on the trees are still a brilliant array of reds, oranges, and yellows; but they are starting to fall on the ground, baring the branches for the upcoming winter season. 

This means that the weekly outdoor picnic at the University’s quad that you and your friends always make time for is probably going to end soon, so Sansa Stark insists for one more before the inevitable happens. 

“Winter is Coming,” Sansa states with a heavy sigh and a shiver after you all helped her lay out the pastel gingham blanket on the ground that you are all sitting on now. 

Meera Reed makes a face at her, snorting in disbelief. “Did you just quote your family’s motto at us? Really Sansa?”

Sansa glares her way while she starts to take the lunch she had prepared out of her favorite wicker picnic basket. She huffs before insisting, “Well it is. Winter is coming .”

“Oh, it already is coming,” Margaery Tyrell smirks, already pouring out the pre-made mimosas into four mugs. “It came plenty last night…”

“Marg!” 

“What?” Margaery pouts at Sansa’s outcry of her name, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying… Stark men have quite a set of heavy b—“

“No, no,” Meera is the one to cut her off now, her palm held up to stop Margaery from finishing. “I need my appetite to eat these delicious katsu sandwiches!”

Meanwhile, Sansa is ruffling up Margaery’s perfect blowout, ordering the brunette to stop saying disgusting things about her brother, Robb, in front of her.

As you watch them, you laugh with your mouth around the rim of your mug, the taste of alcoholic, bubbly orange juice sweet on your tongue. Your friends are all ridiculous, but you love them. And perhaps, you are just as ridiculous as them. “Sansa… Is your Uncle Benjen visiting any time soon?”

“I don’t know…” Sansa eyes you suspiciously. “Why…? ”

“Cause…” There’s already a stupid smirk lifting your lips that Sansa takes a deep inhale to prepare herself. “I wanna test out Marg’s theory about Stark men and their heavy—“

You are tackled onto your back by the fiery redhead; and luckily for the both of you, you had already drunk all the mimosa in your mug before she did so. You are laughing and shrieking as Sansa shakes you by the  shoulders playfully, with Meera hollering in the back and Margaery exclaiming, “Yes! That’s my girl! Daddy Benjen is so fit!”

It must have been a strange sight to see. Four women in their early twenties having a picnic in the middle of autumn, all screaming and all toppled on top of each other on the quad of the Seven Kingdom’s most prestigious post-secondary school, Vale University. 

No one would dare approach that mess — unless they are brave. 

Or stupid. 

When a dark shadow casts over you and your friends, and someone clears their throat noisily, that is when you all pause mid-laughter to glance up at the newcomer. 

Your eyes widen comically when you are faced with gorgeously long platinum silver hair; the tiniest waist made with an expensive belted black cotton trench coat; a striking violet eye; and the most disgruntled expression you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Of course all that was none other than Aemond Targaryen. 

So in conclusion — brave and stupid. 

All four of you quickly straightened up in embarrassment but his eye was solely on you. 

“Can I talk to you?” Aemond asks, head cocking to a tree nearby. 

Dumbfounded, you nod slowly and stand up just as slow. But while you are in the process of doing so, he is already walking away. Shrugging at the confused looks of your friends, you jog after him. 

In all honesty, you have no freaking idea why he is pulling you aside either.

When the two of you make it beside the willow tree, he turns towards you. The sourness in his face doesn’t change, and you wonder why he is even talking to you because he clearly doesn’t want to be. 

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total .

So why now?

That is when the panic start to rise in your chest, because there is only one reason he would even sought you out —

“Aemond, is your fath—“

“Are you going to the party—“

You both stop abruptly after speaking over the other. 

Now you are thoroughly confused. 

With your head tilting to the side, you repeat the little you heard him say, “The party?”

At the dumb look on your face, the tips of his ears start burning red. Aemond grimaces, then glares to the side as he answers, “Yeah, the Tyrell party tomorrow night. Are you invited?”

Your brows draw even closer together, staring at Aemond like he grew another head. “I mean, yeah… Margaery is one of my best friends…” Aemond then grunts in remembrance at the girl he just saw you with not even 5 seconds ago. He is still not even looking at you, so you pull at your sweater paws from the feeling of discomfort. “I’m not going though.”

Finally, his eye is on you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “I’m not really in a partying mood… Besides, all my friends have people they’re interested in that are going so I’m probably going to be the weird seventh wheel…”

What in the Seven Hells?!

You make a face at your own oversharing. Why did you just confess your loser status to Aemond Targaryen of all people? Why would he even care—

“Then come with me.”

Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh?!?!

When you realize you exclaimed that out loud and not just in your head, you slap a hand over your mouth. 

His scowl makes you explain yourself in a hurry, “Sorry! It’s just we’ve never really hung out before or, like, even had a conversation until this one, so I’m a bit… confused?”

Aemond presses his pink pout together, inhaling sharply. Then he stares at you in a way that pins you to the spot, your breath catching. “You’re right…” he frowns as he trails off. “We’ve known each other for so long and yet we’ve never made an effort to become friends—“

You’ve never made an effort, I’ve at least tried, you wanted to say, but you bite your tongue and let him keep going. 

“So I’d like to take you to the party to change that. Ramsay’s band is playing so it should be a… fun night.”

He says all that in the aloof yet cocksure air of his but you’re convinced that he is not even convinced himself. 

Because why would being in any 10-feet vicinity close to Ramsay Bolton be any fun? Also he said he’d “like” to take you to the party and yet he looks like he is being held at gunpoint to talk to you. 

Someone is definitely putting him up to this. 

To put Aemond out of his misery (and to satisfy the sniper surely aiming at his head) you say, “I’ll, um… think about it then?”

Aemond hums as an answer; sounding not quite satisfied but letting it be. 

And you thought that would be it. Like he’ll be like well, I tried! — shrugs shoulders and flippantly throws his hands up — oh well! but just as you say your soft goodbye and begin to walk away, Aemond calls your name. 

Wait a second — he knows your name???

You balk, once again staring at him wide-eyed. This time he ignores the look, or at least doesn’t react to it outwardly, and says, “You have my number, right?”

I literally didn’t even know you even knew my name, you almost answer, but instead you went with a simple, “No.”

He lets out a discontented hmm… like somehow that was your fault. He then fishes his phone out of his pocket and then hands it to you. On the screen is the new contact section. 

He didn’t even need to say anything, his domineering stare was enough for you to promptly type in your information on his phone. 

When you hand it back, his thumb swiftly moves on the screen. A second later, you felt the familiar vibration of a new text in the back pocket of your jeans. 

“Text me if you’re coming, I’ll pick you up,” is all Aemond says before he is already walking away and up the hill of the quad to the path leading to one of the university’s libraries. 

You watch his retreating back for a minute before finally heading back to your friends. 

“What was that?!” Margaery is the first of your friends to ask, but you can tell they are all piqued with interest and confusion. They know that you and Aemond go way back yet don’t have a semblance of a proper history, and that he has never sought you out like that before. 

So as you stare at the text that Aemond sent you:

I hope you’ll come to the party. It’ll be nice if you do. 

All you can tell your friends is:

“I honestly don’t even know.”

--

As soon as your last class for the day was let out at 6 PM, you book it to the nearest bus stop and luckily make it just as soon as the bus pulls up.

You would think for a busy and populated university campus, the public transportation schedule would be better. But alas, most of the students that attend Vale U are trust fund babies and have the most expensive cars and/or drivers that take them anywhere they want to go. 

Not you though. You pretty much live paycheque to paycheque. Although you are lucky enough to have only one job that could sustain your living expenses. 

That is where you are heading now, your part-time job at one of the homes in the #3 Wealthiest Neighborhoods of all of Westeros according to Baelish Times. 

The gated neighborhood of Eyrie Heights sits on the tallest cliff in the region of the Vale. Of course since it is the home of many famous celebrities and important political figures, the nearest bus stop to the front gates of the community is a 45 minutes walk away — you make that trek back and forth at least four days every week. 

You’re used to it so it’s not so bad, and the security guards at the gates are super friendly and would always drive you to your final destination in their golf cart. Today was no different, and you are dropped off at one of the many mansions in the neighborhood belonging to the governing family of the Vale, the Arryn’s. 

“Thanks Grenn!” You call out after hopping off the cart and waving goodbye to your ride. 

“No problem!” He waves back with a wide grin. “Say hey to Mr. T for me!”

You give him a thumbs up before turning your heels to walk up the stone pathway leading to the ivory mansion fit for a king.

It definitely is one of the most gorgeously built homes you’ve ever seen. It is an older mansion but properly maintained with the prettiest front garden and perfect shrubbery. The white bricked walls are paired with dark navy blue shingle roofing, which looks lovely during the hotter months but gorgeous when everything is blanketed with white snow. What does it for you though is the huge oval arched windows and the balconies on the second and third floors with the pillars — it was what caught your wide eyes when you first saw it eight years ago when your mother held your hand and dragged you up the same pathway you are currently walking on. Although it is an Arryn family mansion, the man living there now is the widower of an Arryn woman and he is the one you are caring for.

After you climb up the three tiers of stoned steps with the dragon statue water fountain in the center, you pick up the packages and letters at the front door that he received the past two days you haven’t checked up on him before unlocking the door with your set of keys and stepping inside.

“Viserys?” You shout out, locking the door behind you. From somewhere still on the ground floor, you hear the one you are calling for respond back, In here!

With the packages and a hefty bag you’ve pulled out from a closet near the front door, you head to where you assume ‘in here’ is. 

You end up at one of the rooms in the back of the mansion. It does not even surprise you that this is where you find your patient/friend in the huge home — it is the room he is often in if he is not in his master bedroom or kitchen. The conservatory is as beautiful as every part of the house, but anyone can tell it’s the most loved. With its high windowed ceiling and the windowed walls, the brilliant sun can be clearly seen setting on purple and pink skies. But you knew that and luxurious furnishing wasn’t the reason why Viserys Targaryen favored that room so much — for every other room has the same luxury feel to it — but it is because this room is where him and his first wife would always spend time together during the first few years of their marriage before they moved back to Viserys’ ancestral home in King’s Landing. 

“This room is also the only one we were allowed to spend time in while I was courting her,” you remember Viserys recalling to you and your mother one time with a hearty chuckle. He then pointed outside, where the pool is. “Her father would grill out there, pretending it’s for lunch or dinner. But he was really just keeping a close eye on me to not do anything unsavory. Aemma was always so embarrassed because she said her father didn’t even like barbecue ribs that much. ”

With a smile at that memory of his memory, looking towards the many picture frames in the room that hold weathered photos of the ethereal looking woman who still held the heart of a man even 25 years after her death. 

You turn to watch that man now, hunched over beside a big and long table in the middle of the room occupied fully by miniature statues and structures to resemble the once glorious city of the now ruined Old Valyria. 

Viserys is so consumed with whittling away at a block of soapstone that he did not even notice that you were already in the room. 

While putting down his packages and letters on a side table near the door, you call his name again. He turns to you with a bit of a jolt, before his lips spread into a soft smile. “Sorry, my dear… I’ve just been so focused because my hands are being very agreeable today.”

You laugh, nodding in understanding while walking to where he is sitting. 

“How was the commute here?” Viserys asks while you pull out what you needed in the heavy bag you put down on the ground. 

You shrug nonchalantly as you wrap the blood pressure band around his arm. “Awful like always, but I’ll live.”

The balding platinum haired man frowns at that. “I really wished you’d let me hire a chauffeur for you.”

You chuckle, writing down his numbers on your phone’s notes app and moving on to test his blood sugar level. “And I told you, I spend way too much on my monthly bus pass for you to do that. Besides, I like taking public transportation—“ Viserys gives you a look. “… Sometimes.”

Once you have all of Viserys’ numbers for the day and nothing concerning pops up, you text everything to his primary nurse who visits him once a week, Samwell Tarly. 

As you get a text back from Sam -– “Thank you, ____! 😀” — Visery slowly sits up and asks, “A little game of Cyvasse for old time sakes?”

You groan and frown deeply in a way that definitely shows your age of twenty-two, but you follow him anyway to the table in one of the corners of the room with the Cyvasse game on top. 

Not even ten minutes later, Viserys sighs heavily as he watches you make another wrong move. Honestly, you’ve tried plenty of times to understand this board game but it is just lost on you. At this point, you are just moving pieces you think are the ugliest so they can be taken off the board quicker.

“When is your family visiting?” Visersy asks while taking out another one of your pawns, only four of your pieces left on the board versus his fifteen. “Your father is the only one that gives me a challenge in this game and I miss that — well, your father and my younger brother.”

You shrug, moving a piece that he just knocks over a second later. Honestly, he can be playing the game just as bad as you and you would be none the wiser. “Probably not anytime soon. Autumn is the busiest season at Ironrath with the ironwood and all.”

Viserys hums, winning the game. Then he looks straight at you. “You know, your mother called yesterday–”

“Ugh…” your head falls dramatically, already knowing what he is probably going to say next.

“She said you haven’t been picking up her calls and barely answering her messages.”

Yup, there it is.

You stand up, walking over to the table where you dropped off the packages and pick it up to bring to him. 

“It’s not that I’ve been avoiding her. I’ve just been so busy – with classes, extracurriculars, this job…” you tell him as you hand him a package decorated with silver star stickers from his daughter Helaena at King’s Landing, a postcard from Dorne from his grandsons’ Jace and Luke who are vacationing there at the moment, and a letter from Otto Hightower — his father-in-law from his second marriage. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to call her tonight.”

“Is this job too much on top of all of your studies?” Viserys asks, full of concern. “Because—“

“No, it’s not this job,” you reassure him. “I’m just shit at time management. Sansa’s helping me out with that though.”

“Well I hope you are at least taking time for yourself. Your youth should be spent having fun and not being stressed about the future.”

Easier said than done, you think but you let him know instead, “My friends and I had a picnic today. That was fun! And—” Hold on, you just remembered something, “ I … actually got invited to a party tomorrow night… by Aemond.”

At the mention of his son, Viserys’ head tilts in confusion. “Aemond…? I didn’t know you two were friends.”

You scoff out a chuckle. “We’re not… That’s what’s weird about it.”

Viserys hums in thought for a while then smiles at you. “I think you should go to the party with him!”

You make a face and he chuckles, encouraging further, “I’m being serious! My son needs a good influence like you in his life… and under that cold exterior, I know my boy is as sweet as can be. Just give him a chance!” 

Sweet is the last word you would use to describe Aemond Targaryen. Maybe agreeable would have been more suitable. But you know how much Viserys loves his family – as distant as they all may be from him – so you just let it go with a sigh.

And like you told his son earlier, you tell him the same with a tight smile, “… I’ll think about it…”

--

Turns out, you didn’t even need to think about it. 

No. No thinking was involved. 

Not when you are basically kidnapped out of your apartment. As soon as you get home from the library, you are being grabbed around the waist hauled up and out of your modest and tiny living space. 

“How dare you ! You are supposed to be on my team! Team Always Stay At Home Like Gremlins!” You seethe furiously at your best friend and roommate, Jon Snow, who has a hold of your feet to stop you from kicking the man who has you on his shoulder. 

“I know ! I’m sorry, but… Margaery told me to…” Jon says with a weary and apologetic smile. “And plus… Sansa’s going to the party.”

“She’s your cousin, you weirdo !” You bite back at him, and from over your shoulder you can see he is just blushing profusely, unperturbed by the accusation you threw at him. Under you, Theon Greyjoy is laughing so hard in that annoying way of his, so you warn him, “Don’t even get me started with you, buddy.”

He shuts his mouth rather quickly after that.

You are hauled into the car waiting at the front of the apartment, and when you settle in as comfortably as you could after getting tossed into the backseat by Theon, you are faced with Robb and Meera peering back at you from the front seats. 

“Where’s Sansa and Marg?” You ask once the car pulls away, sandwiched between Jon and Theon. 

“Oh, you know… taking a million hours to get ready,” Robb says as he turns right on a street that the robotic lady navigating him tells him to turn at — heading to Loras Tyrell’s penthouse. 

You gesture down at your own outfit — a cream oversized Vale U hoodie and loose blue jeans. “And I didn’t get the same courtesy because…?”

You are not even going to mention your unstyled hair and lack of makeup. 

Meera playfully rolls her eyes. “You look great… like always.”

You stick your tongue out at her while grabbing your phone out of your pocket. 

To Aemond — Heeeeey! I’m coming to the party! You don’t need to pick me up, I have a ride and I’m already on my way there! — see you soon 😃 !

Then before you have a chance to put it away, you notice the little message typing bubble pop up and you wait for a few seconds, and then…

Your mouth gapes open in offense. 

The asshole leaves you on read. 

--

“Maybe he got distracted with something,” of course it’s Jon trying to reason and be practical about the whole situation, always trying to give people the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes it just sounds like he is playing devil’s advocate — like this time, since it involves Aemond “The Ice Prince” Targaryen. “Didn’t you say he was typing something before he didn’t respond at all?”

“I think he is just a right royal prick,” Robb states, which makes the girl he has his arms around giggle.

All your friends are stuffed into an elevator now heading up to the party at Margaery’s brother’s place. And instead of being excited for the night since Loras usually throws the best parties, you’re just pissed off, staring at the read receipt you’ve gotten more than 20 minutes ago. 

“Thank you, Robb!” You appreciate that you at least have someone on your side on this. 

“Watch though, as soon as we step inside, he’ll be a blubbering mess and he’ll tell you he couldn’t respond because the ____ ____ actually messaged him back,” Margaery predicts, somewhat jokingly. 

“Now that I can’t ever see happening in a million years!” Theon snickers. “Do you see what she’s wearing?”

Gasping, you slap his arm. “You said I looked fine, you dick!”

“Meera said you looked fine, I didn’t say nor agree with anything!”

With your friends laughing at yours and Theon’s shenanigans and just when you were about to hit him again, the door of the elevator opens to the sound of smooth R&B. 

“Is that…?” You trail off, listening closely when you step out the elevator. Once you recognize the artist singing live for the party guests, you hit Theon’s arm multiple times out of excitement. “GREY WORM?!”

You ignore Theon’s whining and pouting about how you are hurting him (you weren’t, he’s just being dramatic) to squeal with Sansa – who also loves the up and coming vocalist just as much as you do. 

Sansa links her arm around yours and the two of you set off to the huge living area to join the crowd dancing and singing along with Grey Worm. 

Margaery and Robb find the two of you later in the middle of the dancefloor, still dancing and singing your lungs out. They bring with them four little cups, and after toasting with your friends, you knock back your first shot for the night — and definitely not the last.

After Grey Worm plays his last encore song for the night, you boo lightheartedly with the crowd making the handsome Astapori laugh, promising he’ll be back in the Vale soon for a proper concert. When he steps off the “stage” (which was just a 6 inch platform) he kisses the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen and you almost want to boo seriously because how are you supposed to compete with that?!

You pout with Sansa, both your dreams dashed in an instant. As the DJ returns to her booth, the room is shaken with the loud bass of HEATED by Beyoncé – the most popular artist in all six continents of the world – you turn to Margaery to ask, “Why was Grey Worm the opening act and Ramsay’s dark-sided heavy metal band the main one for the night?”

Margaery sighs and rolls her eyes, “Well, Renly just signed Ramsay’s band to his label so my brother wanted to be the ever supportive boyfriend… I told him to switch it around but when he asked Ramsay, the manchild threw a fit…”

“Of course he did,” Sansa says, shaking her head in mild disbelief. 

“Let’s stop talking about the prick and have some fun before he inevitably goes on that stage, yeah?” Robb suggests, and you all agree with him, deciding not to let Ramsay ruin your night. Maybe later, when he does start his set, you can all just head to the outdoor balcony with the pool and mini bar.  

You stay dancing with your friends until the song ends before you part with them to grab yourself another drink. You were also incredibly hot, so once you were out of the crowd, you pull off your hoodie, now only wearing a white tank top – very Olivia Rodrigo chic. You toss the hoodie onto one of the couches, knowing no one here will ever steal Vale U merch (and if someone does, it’s whatever) and then you head to the bar. You take another shot while you order a peach bellini and as you wait for your drink to be made, your eyes scan the room. The party is in full swing now and there has to be more than fifty people in this room alone, so there must be plenty more in other areas of the penthouse. Just as you get your drink, you notice someone from the corner of your eyes standing against the wall by a loveseat pretty close to you. 

The guy who left you on read, Aemond Targaryen. 

You suppose you weren’t pissed off anymore (and perhaps Jon was right that he got distracted by something) so you decide you should at least say hi. With your drink in hand, you walk to him and you have to admit… He is looking pretty good tonight. The black silk button up shirt he has on fits so nicely against his body and it is tucked into an equally as tight leather pants that left no room to the imagination. You might have drooled a little, you’re not even going to lie. 

As you approach him, his eye lands on you, taking in you in a way that makes you feel like he is devouring you whole. His mouth parts slightly while his thumb starts to skim across the rim of the glass cup of whiskey on ice he is holding. Maybe it’s the shots you’ve taken, or maybe Meera was right — maybe you do look good.

You were so distracted by how handsome he looks that you didn’t even notice the company he is with until it was too late. 

“Well, well… Isn’t this a nice surprise, angel eyes?” Is what you hear when you are about to say hello to Aemond. As you grimace at the sound of his voice, Aemond looks between you and the man sitting on the couch he is beside. 

Ramsay takes away the arm he has around the girl who is sitting with him to put both his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together, leaning forward to regard you closer. 

“Finally ready to make nice again, sweetheart?” Ramsay asks you, that infuriating smirk on his lips. 

“You two know each other?!” Aegon Targaryen — Aemond’s older brother by three years — questions like he cannot believe it to be true. You wish it wasn’t true. But sadly, it is. You went on five dates with the scumbag just last year. 

“No,” you tut out at the same time Ramsay replies, “She’s my ex.”

“Ex?!” you scoff out with a laugh. “We went on, like, five dates, my dude.”

Ramsay gasps mockingly, grabbing onto his chest. “Oh sweetheart, how you wound my fragile heart. I thought what we had was special!”

You roll your eyes, but decide not to give him the satisfaction of another reply from you. So you turn to Aemond instead, throwing him a very expectant smile but you are met with a carefully neutral expression. You falter slightly under his stare, licking your lips and then pressing it together before you tell him, “Hey, uh, sorry I didn’t come here with you. I got pretty much held hostage by my friends as soon as I got home from school.”

Aemond nods slowly with a throaty hum. “It’s fine.”

Feeling several eyes on you, you mirror the bob of his head as you wait for him to say something — anything — else. 

“Are you… having fun?” You ask, breaking first.

Eye still on you, Aemond shrugs nonchalantly. But after a couple of seconds, he turns his head away, looking to the side as he takes a sip of his drink, then keeps his stare at the dancing crowd as if you weren’t even standing in front of him.

You let out a humorless chuckle, trying not to feel rejected. 

“Okay, then… Great talk,” you murmur, then you promptly walk away before you humiliate yourself any further. 

What is his deal ?

First he invites you to this stupid party, then he leaves you on read, and now he makes you a fool in front of all his friends…

Honestly… It’s on you for expecting anything different.

--

Once you turn to leave, Aemond is quick to watch you walk away with an indecipherable look on his face. Never once taking his eye off you until you eventually blend into the crowd. 

“Was that her?” Vis asks — a distant cousin of Aemond’s, with the same name as his dad (a Targaryen thing; after the 10th generation they just became less and less creative and started reusing the same 10 names). “Is that the girl?” 

“Yesss , it issss!” Aegon answers in a sing-song, slurring his words from the many shots and bottles of beer he has downed already. 

“The girl?” Ramsay questions, frowning in confusion. Meanwhile, Vis grimaces in disgust, muttering something rude about your outfit.

“The girl Aemond needs to trick into falling in love with him,” Aegon supplies, walking over to his younger brother to wrap his arm around the taller man. With his hand grasping tight on Aemond, Aegon shakes him and sharply hisses in his ear, “And you’re already fucking it up, little brother.”

With a scowl, Aemond jerks aggressively, successful with getting his brother off of him with a shrug of his shoulder and an elbow into Aegon’s stomach.

“Ooooh , ___ is the girl?” Ramsay exclaims, blue eyes lighting up with excitement at the remembrance of what they had all talked about about a week ago. “You should have told me earlier, and I wouldn’t have said all that… Now, I just reminded her of all the good times we had together–” Winking at Aemond, he finishes with, “It’s going to be tougher for you now, little Aemond.”

Aemond scoffs, eyes rolling off to the side. 

Vis’ younger sister, Dany, turns to Ramsay, her thick and pretty brows drawing together in confusion. “Isn’t that the girl that blocked you on all her social media accounts?”

“Yeah,” Ramsay’s head rolls slowly from one side to the other as if saying ‘what of it?’. “Because she was so madly in love with me and was so distraught to find out she wasn’t the only girl I was dating at the time…”

At that, Aemond decides it’s time to tune Ramsay’s annoying ass out. He huffs out, finishing his drink to leave his group of… people he hangs out with, to get another at the bar. 

He feels someone following behind him, but they don’t make themselves known until they are both standing by the bar.

“You’re acting like a bigger asshole than you usually are tonight,” Alys Rivers tells Aemond without any prompting after they order their drinks. Just as he was about to roll his eye for the hundredth time that evening, Alys shakes her head and holds a finger up, “ Don’t roll your eye at me… You know I’m right.”

Aemond sighs and says nothing because she is right, and so he sips on his drink instead as soon as it is slid towards him. 

Alys turns her whole body towards him, direct and headstrong like always when she tells him,  “How do you expect her to fall in love with you even just a little bit if you treat her like that?”

Aemond holds her gaze for only a few seconds before it drops down to the clinking of melting ice in the cup he had placed on the bar table. “This is the stupidest plan I’ve ever agreed to be a part of.”

The only person that he actually likes in his so-called friend group lets out a short chuckle, reminding him, “I’m pretty sure I told you that when Aegon first mentioned it.” 

Aemond lets out a dissatisfied hum, bringing his glass up to his mouth to take another swallow. 

“You know you can just… not do it. Leave the poor girl alone.”

Aemond frowns. “I’m already in it.”

Alys snorts at that. “Barely.”

Then Aemond goes quiet, deep in thought. Because once again, Alys is right. He can just back out, let Aegon do this stupid plan. Why should he waste his time on this? Waste his time with you? 

But then again… He doesn’t trust his brother to do anything right. So in the end, it has to be him.

“I have to do it,” he says in a way that leaves no room for doubt. “You know what’s at stake, Alys.”

At that, Alys sighs heavily and nods in relent. “Right. Of course…” Then she offers him an encouraging smile. “At least we now know it won’t be that hard for her to fall for you… She did date Ramsay after all…”

Aemond lets out a combination of a snort and a chuckle, tipping his glass towards Alys. “You’re right.”

Her small smile spreads into a bigger one, eyes rolling teasingly. “I’m always right, Aemond. You should know that by now,” then as she clinks her glass against his, she adds, “And I have one more prediction with this idiotic plan of yours.”

Leaning on the elbow he has rested on the table, Aemond tips his head to the side and decides to humor her with a question, “And what’s that?”

With a secretive smirk, Alys brings her wine glass up to her dark red lips and says before taking a sip, “You’re going to accidentally fall for her first.”

And for the first time in forever, Aemond actually lets out an uncharacteristically loud laugh, gazing incredulously at his friend like she has gone crazy.

Because that will never, ever happen. Not in a million years.

--

Much to your surprise, it is Gendry Baratheon who pulls you out of your sour mood with his silly jokes and cute flirty comments.

When he asks you to dance, you glance discreetly to Sansa for permission but she is too busy canoodling with her cousin , so you look towards the next best option — Robb. The oldest Stark sibling gives you a thumbs up. Their younger sister, Arya, dated the hot architecture major but dumped him before she dropped out of uni just the previous year to travel the world and learn from experience instead of books. 

You’re glad for his approval, because as you grind your hips against Gendry’s with his hands tight on your waist, you realize how much you are a sucker for pretty boys with dark hair and light eyes. That’s probably the only reason you swiped right on Ramsay.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while…” Gendry simmers, the pupils in his bright blue eyes blown with desire, pressing himself even firmer against you. Very firm indeed. 

“Yeah?” You smirk with an adorable tilt of your head, threading your fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck, bringing his face down closer to yours. “And why didn’t you?”

His long dark lashes flatter, eyes roaming your face as he murmurs somewhat absentmindedly, “You really don’t know how intimidatingly gorgeous you are, do you…?”

After a gleeful giggle, you let out a soft sigh as you lean in at the same time, wanting to close the distance between your lips. But just when your mouth is about to touch Gendry’s chapped yet alluring lips, you are being yanked away from him rather harshly with a hand that had just clasped around your elbow. At the rather disorienting motion of the pull, you end up smacking face first into the chest of the person who is the culprit of the rude interruption. 

The guy smells so goddamn good that you almost melt into him, until you remember why your nose is pressed onto him in the first place —

“What the heck?!” You cry out, prying yourself away from the person to glare at them. What you find is Aemond staring down at you before he glances over at the man behind you. 

“It’s a bit of a bastard move to try and stick your tongue down the throat of someone else’s date, don’t you think, Baratheon?” 

Both yours and Gendry’s mouth drop at Aemond’s accusatory statement. 

DATE?! WHAT IS THIS SCUMBAG ON ABOUT?!

“Sorry, man… I honestly didn’t know you two were a thing…” Gendry apologizes to Aemond, then looks at you longingly before he walks away, muttering under his breath, “Seven Hells, I need another drink.”

“Wait, Gen …” you trail off when he glances at you in a way that makes you falter, shaking his head with a heavy sigh of disappointment – which you think might not be because he thinks you’re taken but because he expected better of you to not cheat on your boyfriend . You want to stop him and tell him it wasn’t true because it’s not!

“No… come back…” You cry out pathetically, reaching out dramatically but he is already too far gone. You deflate, wallowing in your sadness for a couple more seconds until your ire strikes and you glower at the reason you did not end the night with making out with one of the hottest guys at the party. 

In the middle of the dancefloor, Aemond stands stiff rod straight with his hands clasped together behind his back, a shit-eating grin lifting his lips. 

Bitch, you declare in your mind. 

Your arms are wildly moving when you ask him incredulously, “What the hell was that?” Then quieter, you harshly whisper, “Why did you tell him I was your date?!”

“I invited you to this party, didn’t I?” Aemond questions, head cocking.

“Yeah…?”

“And you texted me you’re coming…” “You mean the text you ig–”

“So then that means you’re my date,” Aemond declares as if it’s that simple, cutting you off rudely. Then his hand clutches over his heart, pouting mockingly. “and you’ve hurt my feelings terribly by dancing with another guy.”

You might not be as sober as you thought because instead of remaining pissed off, you are actually kinda… impressed . This is the most personality you have ever seen Aemond have. A bit vindictive, sure, but at least he is not all emo sad sulking boy like you previously thought he was just. 

Though… unlucky for him… you can be quite a menace yourself. And you still haven’t forgiven him for leaving you on read, making you look dumb in front of his friends, and now cockblocking you from getting a hot piece of ass— Oh boy… You are heated all over again. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Aemond,” you say with poutiest of pouts (the one you use whenever you want something to go your way. And it usually works, just ask Jon and all the times he went out to the 24 hours convenience store a few streets down at two in the morning to grab whatever you wanted) then you mirror him, grabbing at your heart. 

Aemond’s eye flicker down from your begrudgingly cute face to where your hand lands, taking a sharp inhale as you squeeze your boob, before meeting your eyes again with his own wide, looking so confused at your sudden 180 — and also, why are you fondling yourself?! 

“How will I ever make it up to you?”

But you give him no chance to answer because you all of the sudden perk up, clapping your hands together as you exclaim, “I know! Since you wanted to dance with me so badly—“ you titter out a quite evil-sounding giggle, “— then we’re gonna dance, baby !”

Aemond frowns, shaking his head minutely, “I didn’t—“

But you’re already dancing — and quite horribly as well. Where was the rhythm you had when you were grinding with the Baratheon bastard? Aemond wonders while watching your every uncoordinated move with an unimpressed hmm. 

Little does he know, you’re dancing this bad on purpose. You can dance — maybe not as well as Meera but you can keep a rhythm. For Aemond though — your sweet, sweet date who is always so prim, proper and collected — oh how embarrassed he will be to be seen with someone who is not as perfect as him. Someone who can’t help but make a fool of herself and in turn, him , for being tied to her. 

With your fists pressing against your chest and your elbows out, you start to shake your arms back and forth. You’re actually surprised Aemond is able to hold eye contact with you… Maybe you’re not doing enough? So you suppose you need to turn it up a notch. 

And as if the DJ is your partner in crime, the next song she plays is absolutely perfect. 

I can lick it, I can ride it while you slippin’ and slidin’..

You start with something easy, dipping your hips side to side, enough to be sensual and then— 

I can do all them little tricks…

BAM!

The sprinkler! You even make the sound effect, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth to sound out the tcktcktcktck as you wave your arm above your head in a jerking motion. 

And keep the dick up inside it…

You jump, landing on your feet wide apart with bent and spread knees, smacking the top of your thighs loudly. Aemond’s face remains completely unfazed even though there is an audience starting to surround the two of you now. But your gaze only on each other. 

You can smack it, you can grip it…

You straighten up, turning around swiftly, slapping your butt next as you look over your shoulder at Aemond with a wink. You hear people hoot and holler — sounding a lot like Theon and Margaery. 

You can go down and kiss it…

Grinning at your friend’s encouragement, you drop down— 

All the way to the floor, laying on your front on the ground to wave your whole body, doing the worm so impressively and backwards instead of forward that the whole crowd cheers so loudly. 

You hop up just as fast onto your feet, looking down at yourself and find you were lucky enough to not have a drip of gross wetness on you from all the drinks sloshed onto the floor throughout the night. Now that’s a miracle. 

And every time he leave me ‘lone, he always tell me he miss it…

After shrugging to yourself, you make eye contact with Aemond again, stepping towards him with a sultry smirk, your fingers trailing on his body as you make your way around him, stopping behind him to breathily sing into his ear the next part…

He want a F-F-R-EEeeEee-A-K…

You suppress the giggle when you feel him shiver. Probably out of disgust and mortification — and you couldn’t be more proud of yourself. 

You move again, to complete your circling around him, finally almost in front of him again—

F-F-R-Eee—-

“—EEP!” 

That was you, bleeting louder than the music, all because you were suddenly grabbed by the waist and dipped down low by none other than Aemond Targaryen. 

The crowd goes wild, thinking that what is happening in front of them is a risqué kiss between the Ice Prince and the weird dancing girl. But it is not that all, because what Aemond’s pretty long hair has hidden from view of prying eyes is not a stolen kiss, but it’s his burning gaze on you as he growls a little too ferally, “You think you’re real cute, don’t you, love?”

As he impressively keeps the two of you in that position, his arm solidly around your waist and his other hand cupping the back of your head so gently, you can’t help but really look at him for the first time in your life. It’s hard to deny it, but he really is so easy on the eye. The slope of his nose is enviously perfect, his violet eye the brightest and most vibrant out of all his family, and…

Though he did not move one inch during your dance for him, Aemond is breathing quite as heavily as you are. The puff of his hot breath on your mouth has you looking down, and his eye follows where you look.

Aemond’s lips… They look so soft and the shape of them so sharp at the edges… You kind of want a feel of them against yours. Just to see…

His tongue peeks out, wetting his mouth, and you blink slow in rapt attention. Once he is done, you flutter your lashes, glancing back up to meet his gaze from beneath them. 

He is too undeniably pretty, it’s unfair!

If Aemond is moving closer towards you, you don’t notice. Your nerves are getting the better of you, all thoughts have gone out the window. 

And that is why you so suddenly blurt out with a crooked smile, “So… ya like jazz?”

Aemond’s features twist into one of confusion before he starts to laugh as he pulls the both of you up to stand. The crowd has disappeared, onto the next big thing — a fight that broke out in the kitchen. But you and Aemond stay, with also a few stragglers still dancing. 

You burn with embarrassment. This is Jon’s fault! He’s the one who suggested to watch The Bee Movie last night. And you know what’s also his fault? The reason you were born in the first place! If his mom — your god mother Lyanna, and also your mom’s best friend — hadn’t gotten knocked up by her summer fling, your mother wouldn’t have begged your dad to start a family so quickly because they’ve always wanted to have their kids grow up together. 

While you make threats at Jon Snow in your head — promising he will rue the day he was born — Aemond is still laughing, telling you, “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

You take a chance to glance sideways at him….

The smile that lights up Aemond’s face is so gorgeous and glorious that your mouth parts in awe and your heartbeat starts to race. 

As you continue to openly stare now, it dawns on you that this is the first you’ve seen Aemond with such a genuine smile. The others were either snarky smirks or put on to appease whoever he was speaking to. 

You can’t believe he has been hiding this from the world. 

“Wow… You should smile more often,” you murmur without really thinking about it. “It looks nice on you.”

His face flattens as soon as the words leave you, pink blushing his cheeks and his ears as he swiftly turns on his heels to walk away. You don’t allow him to get far, grabbing onto his hand to pull him back towards you, whining out with laughter, “Noooo … don’t be embarrassed! I’ll shut up!”

After heaving the most exhausted sigh you’ve ever heard, Aemond turns back around to face you. You flutter your lashes at him to seem innocent, an overly optimistic smile rounding your cheeks adorably. 

“Do you want to dance?” You ask him. “Like, for real this time?”

While he eyes you warily, Aemond finds himself nodding slowly. At his acceptance, you let out a goblin like giggle of heh heh heh while you take his other hand, both of his in both of yours.

You start to move, encouraging him to do so too with the bobbing of your head in time with the beat of the music. Clearing his throat, Aemond begins to move as well… And you don’t know how but… He makes the simplest move of swaying side to side look so… painful.

“Oh, okay, wow…” You mutter, head tilting while looking down at his feet. “… Not the best footwork…”

“I thought you said you’ll shut up?” Aemond snaps with a fierce glare your way. You manage to suppress another laugh, tightly pressing your lips together to motion a pretend zipper closing across the seam of it with your fingers before lacing your hand with his again. 

You spend the next half hour teaching him how to dance. It wasn’t particularly successful, but at least you had fun!

You think Aemond did too.

He smiled and laughed more times than you can count with both your hands.

And like you told him earlier, it looks nice on him.

--

Aemond drives you home before Ramsay’s band starts their set. Not because you didn’t want to watch them (which you didn’t, but that’s besides the point) but because the worm you did actually hurt your back a little, the pain didn’t start until later. 

So as you lay in your bed, you make a note to yourself: never do the worm again. 

Scratch that. 

Never do the worm again drunk. 

Come on! You can’t completely forego a classic!

Growing more tired, you check your phone one last time. Shooting your friends messages to get home safe and also to Jon — please pick me up some pain killers 🥺. 

Then for some reason the last message conversation you open up is the one with the newest contact on your phone. 

It’s barely a conversation , you think to yourself as you stare at the glaring read receipt. And yet that doesn’t stop you from double texting. 

To Aemond — I had fun with you tonight ☺️

You turn to your side just as the all too familiar ‘…’ bubble from his side of the conversation pops up. You frown at your phone; waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and…

Your eyes light up, grinning wide with an overjoyed giggle. 

Because Aemond didn’t leave you hanging this time. Not at all. 

From Aemond — I had fun with you as well.  — Have a good night.  — Rest well and take a Poppyvil for your back.  — If it gets worse tomorrow, let me know. 

You send him back an ‘I will 🤠’ before you begin to drift off to sleep, your phone pressed to your chest and a smile on your face put on there by the last person you would ever expect to — Aemond Targaryen.

untitled playlist 🎵 nothing else i could do · ella jane

--

author’s note: i hope you guys enjoy the first part of this story :)!! i’m so so excited for the rest!! the song that will be at the end of every chapter (or maybe scattered throughout the fic, i’m not sure yet lol) is a song that the oc puts in a playlist that she unknowingly makes with aemond in mind hehe.

let me know what you think!! feedback keeps us writers motivated :)!!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond targaryen #hotd

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

How do you think the spider gang would react to Gwen coming out as trans? I think they'd all be supportive, but I'm curious if you have details

I am going to be honest with you anon, I had been looking at this question for weeks, thinking about it, and...I am not coming up with much.

I am trans, I don't have that much experience with people reacting to that- and I am not making any more comments about that.

Going back to the original question- I think all of them would be supportive; regardless of background or history, I feel doing anything else would be a disservice to the characters, and also, a type of story I really don't have interest entertaining, (Would Noir, being from 40s, be reasonable to have his apprehensions and need to overcome it? Yes, I am interested in seeing something like that? Personally, fuck no.)

Now, it doesn't mean there cannot be hiccups- all well intending, of course.

(Specific characters under the cut because, as always with me, it got long.)

Peter B I see going over the top; talking how brave Gwen is, and that he supports her no matter what, he also reads a book on trans people and tell hims about the people in his universe who are trans. Gwen appreciates it, but it can be uncomfortable at times.

Noir, regardless of time period, would be supportive, but mixes up terminology. The poor guy already struggles with the pop culture lingo, so throwing queer lingo into the mix can make things awkward; specially since, as a spider-man, he has defended the marginalized people of his dimension and is aware of the community, but- that community had its own terminology that may not be appreciated to day. Is a growing curve.

In my opinion, Ham is a much of a man as Bugs Bunny, meaning gender isn't as important as commitment to the bit; so I can see him busting a dress all of the sudden and saying "I get you sis." Accordingly, if asked about his own gender, he is pretty much "normally a guy, but in general whatever fits better with the scene."

Peni I headcanon as nonbinary, so I think she would be happy to meet another person who isn't cis. Definitely would have lots of talk about presentation, tricks for clothes a make up, the works.

Margo is cool about it, there isn't much to say there; she just tells Gwen that it doesn't change anything between them, and she is still invited to come for the slumber parties (Margo has thrown a bunch in the Spider-Society, because anything to spend as little time mentally at home as possible.)

Pavitr: "Oh so you are like a hijra? That's so cool!" (This is a term from a place I am not from, so I can't talk in length about it, feel free to look it up because it is indeed, very cool.) While not the same, he ends up telling more about how people in his dimension see transgender people, Gwen finds it overall really interesting.

Hobie is, of course, cool about it. He is a punk, noncomformist, and "hates labels," he could probably tell Gwen a stupid amount of things about queer history, intersectionally, so far and so forth. Despite using he/him pronouns, I believe with all my heart Hobie would not give a shit about gender roles and dress how he likes, and be okay with any pronouns. This has nothing to do with your question, but I headcanon that Hobie has been the queer awakening of many other teens of the Spider-Society as he strolls down in whatever outfit he feels like it.

Now Miles, is obviously supportive. I think he may be oblivious to many things (I headcanon him as bi for a long awhile, but I am not sure if that's something he knows already or has yet to discover,) so he asks questions, but is always respectful and has no trouble answering. Overall, Gwen thinks is cute how much Miles dotes on her, and reminding her that she will always be the prettiest girl alive to him.

Huh, I guess I had more to say that I expected, this was fun! Thanks for the question and sorry for the delay.

#ghostflower #gwiles #gwen stacy #trans gwen stacy #atsv #itsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #peter b parker #spider noir #peter b porker #peni parker #margo kess #pavitr prabhakar #hobie brown #miles morales #spider-man #spider-ham #spider-woman #spider-gwen #ghost spider #spider byte #sp//dr #spider-punk #spider-india #headcanon #atsv headcanons

[pinksturniolo]

Angels Like You and Demons Like Me - A Chris Sturniolo AU Story

Part 1 of 2

Christopher is a demon exiled from the underworld after committing one of the most unacceptable acts Hades will never tolerate. Falling in love with a mortal from Earth. Now he is doomed to wander the Heavens alone, where no god, angel or even siren is allowed to associate with him. He is in agony, in suffering. Until one red tipped, gold plated arrow is accidently pierced into the back of his shoulder, permanently subjecting him to a love spell.

Cupid is an angel with the power of desire, love, and attraction. She is the daughter of Venus, Goddess of love and Mars, God of war. She is tasked with matchmaking all the beings in the Heavens, each arrow she shoots having a spell of true love. Once they are pierced by her arrow, and they successfully unite with their soulmate, their bond is one that lasts forever. She never misses her aim and every immortal that’s she’s struck have been blessed with true love.

 But when her love arrow accidentally strikes a demon, all the rules she thought she knew are turned upside down.

content warnings: no smut, mostly fluff, angst, based on ancient mythology, angelxdemon, descriptions of depression, grief, loss and death.

my submission to the bratzfornick’s 141 writing challenge!

@bratzforchris @nicksbestie

ty for creating this challenge <3

the 4 story elements i picked:

genre - fluff, angst

trope - angel x demon

location/setting: alternate universe (au)

word count: 2,658

Christopher lies in the garden of Eden atop Mount Olympus, a large meadow of soft grass and small white and purple flowers, with tall evergreen trees. The warmth of the sun shines down on his bare skin, having removed his black suit earlier once he entered the garden. Demons don’t typically feel warm or cold. They don’t typically feel anything. But if he focuses hard enough, lets his eyes close and just listens to the steady beat of his heart, he can feel the breeze in the air and the rays on his chest.

He lets the tears roll down his cheeks. He may be able to relax in the soft meadow, but he will never be able to erase the memory of her. The only being he has ever loved. His heart aches every time he thinks of her face, her laugh, her soft voice. She was pure, innocent, the sweetest thing he had ever laid eyes on.

She was a mortal human from the dimensions of Earth. In the universe of Heaven and Hell, it is forbidden to associate with any mortals on any dimension or timeline. They are considered insignificant, and beneath the powers of the gods and goddesses. Immortal beings find entertainment in their silly lives, watching them from time to time whenever they are bored. However, Christopher disagreed with their ways from the moment he was taught of the ancient rules and rituals.

His parents were mortals, who were ordinary beings like the rest of the humans on Earth. Their love was true and deep, creating a beautiful baby boy whose soul was so pure that it captured the attention of Zeus, the ruler of the Heavens. And it is known from the beginnings of creation that Hades, the ruler of the underworld called Hell, is his immortal enemy.

Zeus and Hera longed for centuries to have another child, a god they could raise to be powerful and respected. So, when Zeus saw the potential in Christopher, he took him from Earth, giving him the power of everlasting immortality. As soon as Hades heard the news, he was instantly jealous of Zeus and still heartbroken over the death of his great love Persephone. He stole the baby, raising him in the depths of the underworld, creating one of the most powerful and strongest demons.

Once Christopher learned of his past, he developed a hate for Hades, Zeus, and every other god or angel in his dimension, whether they were pure or evil. He despised every single one of them, for being so hypocritical and unfair. They all made fun of humans for being emotional and silly, when in actuality they were just the same.

He made a vow to himself to never fall in love, and to never get involved in human lives.

That is until one day, Hades sent him on a quest to retrieve a lost soul from Earth, a nasty evil soul that belonged to the underworld. And he stumbled upon a female mortal, forgetting all about his mission. He was struck by her beauty and her kindness. For days, he observed her, watching how she treated other people and the dedication she had to her friends and family. He longed to be with her, to be mortal again.

After a few years, he finally decided he would reveal himself to her. There were certain ways an immortal could talk to a human, and he was willing to risk it all for her.

But Hades caught him before he could even start.

He struck her down as soon as he figured out what Christopher’s plans were, taking her life.

He begged and pleaded with Hades, groveling at his feet, screaming and crying until his throat was raw and he was out of breath. He begged him to bring her back, even if it meant he wouldn’t be with her. He never meant for this to happen; he simply wanted her to have her life back. She didn’t deserve this cruel fate.

But of course, Hades had no remorse. And he was furious with Christopher for disobeying him. So, he banished him to the one place he knew he would be miserable in.

Heaven. It’s where he’s ordered to live the rest of his immortal days at, surrounded by beautiful clouds, mountains, flowers and forest. Vast coasts and immense colosseums, miles and miles of blue sky and castles full of carved marble and grand rooms filled with silk and cotton.

Love is all around, in every being. And he loathes it. From the warm sunlight that shines and filters through the canopy of trees in the forest as he dozes off during the day to the glowing moonlight that glitters across Poseidon’s Sea, casting a blueish tint on the sand as he lays upon the beach at night. Even the yellow butterflies that flutter in pairs around him make him sick.

He used to have an appreciation for the beauty in things, to want more than the dark, lonesome and tragic depths of the underworld he came from. But now, ever since he suffered the grief of losing the one thing he had ever known to love, he had no such desire for happiness. He longed to be back in the pit of lost souls and madness that was ruled by Hades. At least he wouldn’t have to bear the sight of love all around him and could wallow in the self-misery and sadness by himself.

He searched for his lost love, hoping fate would have turned her soul into an angel and sent her up here, but that was almost a decade ago and he had no luck in ever seeing her again.

And so, he spends his days drowning in depression and lost in his misery. But at least he can feel the warmth of the sun.

Cupid watches from her place behind the trees, her feet dipping into the cool water of the lake. She observes with curiosity as the tears fall from his eyes, the light bouncing off his smooth skin. His large, black wings are spread out on the grass as he lays in it, the muscles of his arms and shoulders carved out like the sculptures in her favorite colosseum. She’s seen demons before, most of them rude and intimidating. But she senses a strong purity in him, a longing for love that she can’t quite figure out.

He’s exceptionally beautiful and she can’t help but continue to stare at him, intrigued by his childlike aura. He’s asleep now, his face peaceful except for the worry furrowed into his eyebrows. He’s dreaming of something. Or someone.

Suddenly, her bow pulses with purpose, and she gets the familiar urge of striking him with an arrow. She doesn’t though, still sitting against the oak of the tree and swishing her feet in the water.

Since she became of age, Cupid’s job is to be the sole matchmaker of the immortals in Heaven. She observes the gods and other angels, and when her intuition lets her know it’s time to strike, she pierces them with her love arrow, entrapping them in her spell.

It only hurts them for a moment, but then they are filled with a feeling of bliss and happiness. They are drawn to their one true love and well… Fate takes care of the rest.

Her spell is not just some silly party trick. It invokes real feelings that are brought to the surface by her power. It opens the mind and heart, allowing your true destiny to play out.

But it’s never allowed her to strike a demon. Firstly, demons are not usually allowed in Heaven, unless it’s a special circumstance. Even so, angels are forbidden to interact with one. So, she is more than a little confused when she feels her intuition tell her to hit him with an arrow.

But the feeling slowly subsides, and she chalks it up to the curiosity she had while watching him. Demons couldn’t love, especially here.

She flies away after a while, in search of her next lover to help. And when she slips away to sleep that night, she finds herself dreaming of the demon’s face and the way he cried so beautifully in the garden of Eden.

❧ꨄ❧༒❧ꨄ❧༒

Christopher sits on the cold rocks of the beachy shore, chipping away at the wood he’s been carving into with his small metal knife. Shavings fall to his feet, the pile growing larger on the sand. It’s a cool night, the moon pulling the tide in, the salty breeze flowing through his hair.

He feels different today, like the hole in his chest is slowly repairing itself. It’s only taken about 10 years but even slow progress is still progress. He hums an old tune to himself, his fingers nimble and constant on the craft in his hands when he feels the pair of eyes on him again.

“I know you’re there.” He speaks aloud.

He’s felt a presence near him for the past few days and his powers tell him it’s an angel. The name he’s unsure of but he knows it’s there. He’s allowed it to be, going about his day and not minding, but now he’s getting a little irritated at their prying gaze. The one moment he’s finally starting to feel peace and it’s as if they’re intruding.

He hears some rustling behind him and feels the presence move closer. As soon as he does, he whips around at incredible speed, his wings tensed up in defense and throws his knife out in their direction, intending to pierce their heart.

It flies past the angel’s head, somehow deflected and she lifts her bow immediately, releasing an arrow without hesitation. It pierces into his left shoulder, and he doubles over in pain. Her eyes widen in fear as she realizes what she’s just done .

She flits to him, her wings trembling and hands shaking as she hovers over him. He clutches his shoulder for a few seconds before he lifts his head. He gasps in shock, once he looks into her green and gold eyes, his heart stuttering in his chest.

She takes his shocked reaction as one caused by the pain of her arrow digging into his flesh and she places a hand on his shoulder, pulling the arrow out. It dissipates into the air, vanishing within the blink of an eye. The expression on her face is full of regret and empathy, a hint of embarrassment as she presses her fingers over the wound. “Oh my…. Please forgive me. I was only defending myself against your sudden attack. I didn’t expect you to wield your knife so quickly.”

Her voice is like the plucks of a harp ringing out, soft and light. His eyes dance across her face, and he almost doesn’t believe what he can see.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her brows furrowing in confusion at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, I- I’m sorry, you just… look exactly like someone I used to know.” He responds, and he notices the bow she holds in her other hand. “You must be Cupid.”

She nods and removes her grasp from his shoulder, his wound now healed. “Do you feel… any different?”

She hopes to the gods that she hasn’t permanently damaged his soul. If she were to strike any being with an incorrect intention, they’re at risk for death or even worse, to live without ever finding a soulmate. As far as the rules for demons go… she has no idea.

“I feel… strangely happy.” He says and she can’t help the smile that graces her face. “Well, then you’re in luck. My powers seemed to have worked, even on you, Demon. I thought your kind was incapable of love?” She speaks honestly and moves to sit next to him upon the rocks, tucking her bow away.

He chuckles and turns towards her, resting his chin in his hand, his arm atop his knee as he looks into her eyes again. “There are very few things my kind are incapable of. Unfortunately, love is not one of them.”

As he speaks, she realizes now who he is. She’s been watching him again for the past few days, hiding away shyly but intrigued to know who he was. Where he came from and why he was here. Why his energy was so incredibly endearing.

“You are the lost son of Zeus… Christopher.” She tilts her head, taking in his appearance closely now that she was next to him instead of hovering in the shadows.

He wore his dark suit, black gloves on his hands and his even darker wings folded against his back. His hair curled in wisps around his face. And his eyes were bluer than the ocean, even in the black of the night.

“You are correct.” He answers, and his eyes move down her body after he sees her examine him. She is dressed in all white, a flowy gown of fabric draped around her body, and her fluffy white wings expand across her shoulders. She is radiant, glowing with purity. Matching white lace socks and gloves adorn her, her hair in waves down her back.

“Are you not curious to return to him?” she asks, and he looks away now, a sad expression on his face. He shakes his head softly. “No. He has long forgotten of me, busy with his other children. Besides I am too… impure. I’m a demon after all.” He speaks in a somber tone. She is filled with empathy at the sadness pouring out of him in waves and suddenly feels tears fill her eyes.

Cupid can feel others’ emotions strongly. It is a curse and also a blessing, to feel so deeply. And she finds herself enamored with his beauty, his presence and she knows the words he speaks are genuine.

“In every angel a demon hides… and in every demon an angel strides.” She tells him, a few tears falling down her cheek and he looks up at her, surprised by her words. He watches the tears escape from her angel eyes, and before he can stop himself, he’s wiping them away gently with his thumb, the emotion in her gold and green hue of her stare tugging at his heart strings.

“There are many powerful things in this universe, Christopher. But love conquers all. And I have sensed it from you the moment I saw you resting upon the grass in Eden’s garden. Zeus may be the ruler of Heaven, but we are the rulers of our own hearts.”

Time seems to stand still as he takes in the words she speaks, his own tears threatening to spill. He traces his hand lightly down her face, brushing across her neck. He longed to feel her skin against his, his leather glove preventing him from the feeling. But he’s reminded of the hurt and pain that romance and strong feelings like this love she speaks of can bring.

He moves away from her, strong wings stretching out around him. “You are too pure, angel. I thank you for your kind words. But I must go now.” He says and flies away before he can change his mind, retrieving his knife buried into the rock it hit earlier.

She watches him leave with sadness and sinks her feet into the sand. She now wishes she would’ve never come to the beach tonight and thinks to herself that whoever his soulmate is that she’s bound him to is extremely blessed.

It’s then that she notices a wooden carving in the sand next to her feet and picks it up with curiosity. She sees that it’s the face of a woman, her expression happy and familiar. He’s an artist, she thinks. His talent shows through in the details, the way he captures her beauty is breathtaking.

She decides to keep it, carrying it with her as she floats away into the night.

❧ꨄ❧༒❧ꨄ❧༒



a/n: part 2 will be out very soon. i really enjoyed creating this story! i love mythology and angels, and things like that so hope you like it too :)

taglist <3: (if you want to be added/taken off, reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if you weren't mentioned, it wouldnt let me tag u :/)

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn @jnkvivi @bambi-slxt @mattscoquette @h3arts4harry @chrizznmetswife @sturnpooks @sturniololoco

#Spotify #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #angel x demon #chris sturniolo au #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo x you #bratzfornick's 141 writing challenge

[luveline]

I'm sorry to send you such a loaded question, but as a young adult, how do you stay motivated and... I don't know, do the things you have to do? Ever since I left high school, I've felt that it's hard to commit to anything, especially the things I have to commit to in order to have a future, because everything seems so monotonous and uninteresting and stressful to me; because I feel like I'm not capable of doing anything, of being competent.

Anyways, I love your blog. Your writings are one of the few things that make me happy on the worst days xx

that’s okay! I’m gonna try and answer you clearly !! cw for suicide mention

So first I want to say that I’m really sorry you feel this way! It’s quite a heart ache to feel uninspired or uninterested, or worse to feel like you’re not capable of doing things everyone else is doing. You deserve to wake up and feel happy and confident in yourself and your abilities! And I want to say I’m sorry in advance if this is not quite the answer you’re asking me for!

so, when I was around 18/19 (and well beyond those years, but this was when I was very done and defeated and, you know, crying myself sick every night if I wasn’t just laying in bed) I was in university, but I didn’t finish the year at campus, and I had to go home. I’m not sure if this is something I should be saying because it’s so personal but I just want to sort of be honest with you cos I don’t want you to think you’re alone in that feeling. But anyways I had to go home, I was really lonely and I just felt like I couldn’t do what everyone else was doing, like there was something wrong with me. I couldn’t cope with the kitchen, I couldn’t use the bathroom there, I didn’t know how to turn the heating on, couldn’t talk to people, couldn’t navigate the bus by myself, and I felt so pathetically stupid, I had such low self esteem for myself that I felt like I should kill myself just because I was so useless —I didn’t WANT to understand these things. I just didn’t want to do anything. And the reason I’m mentioning it is because while I don’t think it’s okay to assume these things of you, I want to emphasise that there can be a common link between feeling like you aren’t capable and a mental health issue! Of course, you can feel quite useless without that though, so not telling you that that’s definitely what you have going on but more wanting to say that if you think it might be useful, you can have a look at mental health issues and perhaps see if you’re relating to them. But beyond that, hopefully on the way to answering your question, is how I managed to feel more capable and how I now find motivation to do things I have to do.

I sort of had to do a reset, or a sabbatical! I’ve always been an upset person unfortunately, and I had a long few months where I didn’t do anything at all. I’m really, really fortunate that my mother let me stay at home while this was happening however reluctant she was, I can’t imagine really what I would’ve done or what could’ve happened to me if she didn’t let me stay there. I always thought about how she could’ve just turned me out and she probably wanted to, because for months I stayed in bed. I didn’t talk to anybody, deleted all my social media, and I stewed in how much I hated myself for not being any good at anything. I felt soooo stupid and so alone, and I probably cried myself to sleep every night wondering about my life and if I’d ever have the motivation to go on. There are still times now where I am intensely upset and unsure about things and what I’m capable of, but the difference between then and now, and the reason for my motivation I think, was that I was able to foster a need for something? I’m really so sorry if this sounds like total total nonsense, but I needed something. I wanted so badly for someone to “save me” from my not being able to do things, I spent a lot of time thinking about that. Like, how I could be saved. And then I strung out the middle man without realising I was doing it! It is very hard to go from having no motivation and no sense of self ability to then being confident, but I do think you can do it! I needed someone to get me a job and I ended up doing it myself, I needed someone to be gentle with me when I was sad so I started speaking to myself with a more kind inner voice and seeing myself as someone who didn’t need to be perfect to be good.

There was lots of bits of advice I tried to take on. Not all of it is kind to myself, some of it is though!! Like, for example, there’s a sort of parody of it now that says “I think you’re thinking about yourself too much” but one of the ways I stopped hating myself and instead started to believe I could do things and achieve was by thinking about the level of self obsession I was feeling to constantly think of myself. And I promise I’m not trying to say something hurtful to you, I absolutely don’t believe you’re self obsessed, but you’re also not incapable!! In a slightly more annoying take on your feelings, why can’t you do it if everyone else can? You absolutely can! I personally believe sweetheart that you can do everything I can, but you need more support, or you need to be fostered with some love. You are not incapable, you are not incompetent, you are a smart, kind, and important person. There is nobody else like you on the entire planet and I’m better for it that you’re here.

I apologise profusely if I’m projecting too much on you, I’m not trying to say you must feel exactly as I did years ago, but I think your ask really is important and I really want to give you an answer to your question because I know I felt exactly the same at some point. Working toward a future self I didn’t even like or believe in was boring. Nothing in me wanted to work hard or study or continue because I didn’t look forward to achievement.

sorry this is all so long! Hopefully this last bit is the actual advice you might be able to use. Beyond that wisdom about trying not to dedicate too much time to thinking of myself, there are lots of “rules” I tend to live by, in order to just keep going forward. For starters, you deserve to have fun. You deserve good food, nice clothes (not showy though you deserve those too, but nice sturdy clothing), a warm safe house, and you need to work for it! We defo deserve to work less for things but I keep going and trying to better myself because I know I need to do this in order to be comfortable. This will sound out of left field, because the focus of the book is not strictly motivation, but there’s a graphic novel called my lesbian experience with loneliness by Nagata Kabi that has stuck with me because she has this same sort of view as to feeling like she’s stuck in monotony, and there’s one bit in particular where she talks about doing things for yourself you might not do, I.e making sure you have underwear and socks that are clean and whole. I grew up poor and I’m not super rich now either, but since I read that, one of my priorities is having whole and clean underwear, and that did help me find the motivation to work or to study. We need to function in a way to maintain good standards for ourselves, and even if you have boxes of clean socks, there might be something in your life you can think about working toward! I throw away underwear or any clothes that don’t fit me right, and I don’t feel guilty about it when I would’ve before because I know that feeling well dressed is good for your heart. Does that make sense? To give yourself a good standard of life, you have to keep going. As well as that, another way I stay motivated to go on which I’ve talked about before maybe (not that I expect you to have read this) is my writing. I’m motivated sometimes to do things I have to if only because I need free time to think deeply about the things I want to think about. Also I love writing more than pretty much anything, even if most writers will look at what I’m doing and laugh or wonder why I’d dedicate so much time to some things in particular, because I love it. If I can make sure my rent is paid every month, that’s a promise I have a room to sit in every night where I can write whatever story I want! Another motivation is my ability to give bits of myself? It sounds ridiculous because I don’t genuinely believe I’m giving myself to people but to try and be a positive part of someone life is a good place to start if you feel purposeless. My relationships with my sisters are a tether for me and I’ve tried so hard and so much to make these relationships count, as well as with long distance friends, and recently ish I got back into contact with friends I couldn’t maintain relationships with when I was feeling down, and now my life feels very changed. I don’t live solely for myself, (though it’s okay if you do, because its hard and sometimes a lot of pressure to live for and around others) so that gives my life more purpose, and gives me more reason to do things I have to do. I also desperately enjoy this blog !!

I’m genuinely so sorry if this is all useless. I’ve been typing this answer since like 1:05 and it’s much later now, but it’s because it’s hard to describe to you the things that give motivation, because I know deep down how impossible it feels when you have none. I don’t expect you to read this and think aw jade you’ve solved it I’m fine now actually, I just hope that one thing in here can lend you an idea as to what to do next. If you’re struggling to go on, there are lots of options available to you in the UK such as the SHOUT text line for stress, depression, and eating disorders. They’re free to text and anonymous! I don’t think there’s one answer to giving yourself purpose, it is a very hard life and I don’t blame you for feeling incapable or bored or worried or anything you’re feeling, but I do for sure know you can do this, because I can do it, if that makes sense. Like I bet we’re extremely different people on account of uniqueness but also bet we have so many similarities!! And I certainly don’t mind guessing that you’re a loving, caring, person who deserves to feel more fulfilled. It’s my recommendation that you try to understand why you’re not feeling your best right now, that you talk to someone if you can, that you have some faith in yourself, and that you treat yourself with the same love and patience as you would any other person experiencing burnout! again I’m so so sorry if this is all rubbish. I’m forcing myself to stop now. So sorry if it doesn’t make sense or if half of this is completely unrelated to what you’re asking. I love you and I hope you feel better, genuinely truly ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#jade's asks #ily

[pleasepress1forfrontdesk]

Alright I'm making a universe list to organize everything, because this stuff gets complicated.

Note: These are just MY characters, but if you want your characters to be ADD to the list, DM about it please or reblog as well.

(All events in role plays happen in universe 1)

Universe 1 (everything is good + MAIN UNIVERSE)

Levi- was drafted into war at 10, for the Nimone war, had a snapping moment and comment many war crimes. Got arrested and became depressed before escaping and coming to Yokohama. He now walks freely and is living a better life.

Cooper: Levi's best friend, a mischievous boy who was chaotic and never took no for a answer. He was drafted at 18 before dying in Levi's arms after getting shot through the head. Now Cooper rests peacefully in heaven.

Ross- Joined the Nimone military at 18, became Captain and help lead troops in the war. Thought he lost his sister and hated Levi after Levi's snapping moment for almost ruining his entire reputation. Ross came to Yokohama in search for Levi. Now he has became a better man, found his sister, got a boyfriend and a few kids. He doesn't hate Levi anymore.

Ikari- Lonely 16 year old highschool student got drafted into being a medic for the war. Had no friends or family until he was assigned to Ross group after the war. Now he's adopted by Issac, found his long lost cousin, his friends are his family now, and life isn't so dull for him away more.

Dorothy: Help runs a orphanage, she used to take care of Ikari when he wasn't adopted. She stays in Nimone and sells great candy apples for events. Most of her time she stays helping the orphanage or the church. Now she's a sweet old lady.

Universe 2 (things could be better)

DNA- Same things happened to Levi except he never had his snapped moment. Therefore he never committed any of those war crimes and never got arrested. He became a cold captain after Ross died. DNA doesn't remind his actual name as Levi and he's emotionally numb. Now he's in universe 1 after a portal for quick transportation was made by a group of scientists ended them up here.

Cooper- Same type of Cooper from universe 1. Died the same as well.

Ross- He was the same like the universe 1 Ross. But unfortunately this Ross went to take a flight mission and ended up dying in a explosion after his fighter jet was shot down. The doctors couldn't save him.

Ikari- Same Ikari as universe 1, except less depressed and more mean. This Ikari is more athletically fit as well and lost a eye. For now he's left in universe 2 doing boring medic work.

Dorothy- same old sweet old nun.

Universe 3 (oh crap half of the world has been taken over)

Levi- Unknown right now

Cooper- Most likely dead

Ross- Scarlett killed Ross

Ikari: Same Ikari, committed sewer slide.

Dorothy: She's just Dorothy. Same old sweet nun.

Universe 4 (unknown)

Cooper- He didn't die in the war, but he was captured and brainwashed into being a submissive servant. Now he lives with Shibusawa after waking up in a field of flowers with no memory.

#bsd #bsd oc #bungou stray dogs oc #bungou stray dogs #levi dna #captain ross #Dr. Ikari #Ms Dorothy #Cooper the butler #DNA AU

[lunajay33]

Change Part.6

•🎀🩰🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.5

•Masterlist•

It had been a week since the incident with the walker, Daryl refused to let me go out alone again and I didn’t blame him I didn’t want to be alone either it was too risky, it wasn’t just my life in danger, I had a baby to worry about and I refused to leave Daryl alone in a world like this, I rolled over in bed admiring his sleeping form, his hair all crazy, I love him so much and the fact that our family was just about to begin tore something from me that I always dreamed about

“Mornin” he grumbled as I ran my hand through his hair

“Sorry did I wake you?”

“Nah I was up a while ago just waiting for ya”

“Mmmm” I didn’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or what but my mood was at an all time low and I didn’t wanna drag Daryl down too

“What’re ya thinking about” he asked as he squeezed my hip

“Nothing”

“Angel I know ya like the back of my hand, I know when yer over thinking”

I sighed hating that he’s always been able to crack me out of my shell he shown me time and time again that I can trust him with anything, he’ll we’re having a baby together why shouldn’t I tell him

“Just been thinking where my family are now, I know I haven’t talked to them in like a year but I still wonder if they’re even alive”

“The last time you talked to them they called ya a selfish slut, ya shouldn’t worry about them, all they’ve ever done was hurt ya angel, we got our own family now, one that’ll love ya more than they ever could” Daryl wasn’t much of a big speech kinda guy but when he knew I needed comforting he pushed that side of him away to be there for me

“Yeah I guess you’re right, like usual” I said laughing as he pulled me closer so I could lay my head in his chest

I was sat in the living room curled in a blanket reading the new twilight book hearing the rain patter against the windows, the smell of a roast in the oven that Daryl had put in, right when I got to the part where Edward was leaving Bella the phone rang, Daryl at my side handed it over scoffing at the caller ID

Caller ID: Jackson L/N

“This can’t be good” I sighed clicking answer and putting it on speaker

“Hello?”

“You need to come home” not even a hi or nothing

“Why? None of you have bothered to contact me in months what is it this time?”

“Dad lost his job, mom and dad need money for rent” I could see the anger written all over Daryl’s face

“Jackson I have my own life now, I can’t be helping you guys out ever time you need money, I have bills of my own and I don’t wanna waste my money on people who don’t even care about me”

“Are you serious right now?” He asked enraged

“Why can’t you help, you’re the one that got that football scholarship, I had to work my way through university and I’m still paying off student loans, plus Daryl and I have to pay for our house and car and motorcycle”

“You know what this is done, you’re out of this family for good this time, mom and dad should’ve gotten rid of you when they had the chance you selfish slut” the phone disconnected signalling he hung up

I looked at feeling my chest tighten, I never wanted this I was never the golden child in their eyes, I only ever felt like I mattered when Daryl came into my life

“He’s lucky this was over the phone or I’d beat him into the ground” Daryl groaned rubbing my legs over the blanket

“Why am I never good enough for them?”

“Ya got that wrong Angel, they ain’t good enough for you”

As I sat outside eating breakfast Daryl and Merle got ready for the day, Merle was going to Atlanta with some people from the camp and Daryl was going out hoping to find a deer he’s been tracking for a while

“I gotta go now Angel” Daryl said as he stung his crossbow over his shoulder

“But I don’t want you to go” I whined getting up to wrap my arms around him

“I know but I’ll be back later this evening just try and stay around the other, don’t want another problem like last week” he said placing a kiss to my cheek

“Fine just promise me you’ll be safe out there, that you’ll come back to me”

“Promise”

He picked up some extra arrows and disappeared through the tree line

“Ya got him wrapped around yer lil finger don’t ya” Merle mocked

“Come on Merle can’t you just be happy that he’s happy, I know you don’t like me much but you’re my family now and I’m yours, plus I’m carrying your niece or nephew can’t we just be cordial for once” I said exhausted from his constant bickering

“Don’t matter ta me ya got knocked up, ya made my brother soft and yer gonna see ya ruined his life” he picked up his weapons and left the camp site leaving with the Atlanta crew

“God when do I catch I break?” I sat back down in the camp chair not noticing someone sit next to me until they talked

“You okay sweetie?” It was Lori

“It’s just Merle, always a pain in my ass, just been thinking about what’s gonna happen now with the baby and everything I’m just scared” I looked at here to see if she’d give me advice but here eyes were wide

“What?” I asked confused

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah, I guess we never really mentioned it”

“You know when I found out I was pregnant with Carl, I was a wreck I was young and scared and didn’t know what to do with myself, but the moment I saw him curled up in my arms so little without a care in the world, I knew what I had to do to protect him from harm, everything will be okay” she smiled patting my back

“Thanks, that’s help a bit I just wish it wasn’t in these circumstances”

“How far along are you?”

“About 4 months now, I’ve been taking my prenatals and everything”

“Well I’m always here if you have questions about the baby or changes you go through, but I have to go cut Carls hair”

Something clicked, maybe since this was a new start for Daryl and I and with the baby in this new world maybe I needed a new look, something to liven my spirits

“Umm Lori, would you be up for cutting my hair too!” I asked as I ran up next to her as she walked towards her camp

“I’d love to”

I sat next to Shane as Lori worked on Carls hair, he couldn’t stop complaining but it was adorable

“One day you’re gone wish you had her cutting your hair” Shane said laughing

“Doubt it”

“Trust me Carl, one day you’ll crave to be have these moments again with your mom, it may not seem like it but you will” I said seeing a little smile on his rosy cheeks

“Alright you’re all done” Lori said as she swiped off his extra hair on his shirt

I sat down in front of her as she wrapped a towel around my shoulders

“Alright how short do you want it?” My hair was down to my mid lower back

“How about just below my shoulder”

“That’s quit a chop”

“Well I need it”

She held my hair back and it a split second it was chopped, she straightened out some uneven pieces and it was done

“Well what do you think?”

“It’s really nice Mrs. Dixon!” Carl said with a beaming smile

“Well thank you but you can call me y/n sweetie” he was adorable I hope my child is as sweet as him

“It suits you perfect dear”

“Thank you! I should go clean some clothes done at the quarry, if you need anything I’ll be down there!”

I spent most of the evening down at the quarry cleaning and scribbling mine and daryls dirty clothes, laying them out on some rocks to let them dry, meanwhile dipping my feet in the cool water helping to sooth my ankles that have been getting a bit swollen

I looked around hoping no one was near, I haven’t been able to get a good proper bath in a while so I stripped down my clothes leaving only my bra and panties, submerging myself in the lake floating belly up watching the clouds pass by just like the time Daryl took me here

“Daryl Dixon did you drag me out here just to see me naked?” I asked smirking as he started taking off his shoes and pants

“Come on it’s nice out yer gonna love it” he said as he was stepping into the lake

I bit my lip feeling that thrill shoot through me, I stripped to just my panties and bra, I walked over taking his hand

“Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?”

“Ya sure?” I knew he was embarrassed about his scars but they weren’t his fault

“You know they don’t bother me, I love you for you, not what happen to you” I said squeezing his hand reassuringly

He lifted it over his head and threw it back over to my clothes pill

“Come on Dixon show me how great this’ll be, better not let me drown” I laughed as I dragged him in

“Still can’t believe yer my girl”

“And I’ll be your girl until you’re sick of me”

“Never”

“Well well well what do we have here?” I heard behind me as I pulled on my clothes after drying off

“What do you want Ed?” I groaned feeling that touch of fear he instilled in the women of the camp

“Showing yourself down here for the whole camp, you’re asking for it” he said stepping closer

“Leave me alone Ed”

“Ya ain’t got your man around who’s gonna stop me?”

“Don’t you touch me or you’ll be sorry”

He stepped closer squeezing my jaw now face to face

“Like I said ain’t no one gonna stop me” he said as his other hand started to wander down my arm

Before he could get any further he was ripped away Shane throwing him to the ground

“Touch her or anyone else again Ed and I’ll beat ya to death I swear, come on y/n” I gathered up all the clothes I washed and ran to Shane’s side as he lead me safely back to the camp

“Thanks, I didn’t know anyone was around”

“Ain’t your fault, Ed’s one sick man you stay away from him, stay with the group until Daryl or Merle gets back”

I sat down next to Amy folding up the laundry still to shaken up to have conversation that’s when a car alarm was ringing around the quarry, the group was back and it felt a little better knowing Merle would be here while Daryl was gone, Shane shut off the car alarm and others filtered out of a cargo truck

Lori and Carl had their moment with their “back from the dead” father and husband which was incredibly heart warming but then I realized something

“Where’s Merle?”

Please please please give me some ideas for this story going forward🩷 How should I incorporate the ballerina story line into the new world??:)

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @minnie-min @writer-ann-artist @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #daryl dixion smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fluff #twd season 1 #the walking dead series #daryl dixon series

[aizawas-dryeye]

➭shiny (leon kennedy)^^

content: DARK CONTENT, noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, smut, reader has a vagina but no pronouns, re4!leon, wet dreams, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, he thinks about drugging u, leon feels terrible but he also doesn't care enough,, gore mentioned, catholicism also mentioned LMAOOOO

words: 2.9k

!!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

bitch please read the tags like u must

• • •

The mission was absolutely draining, and Leon isn't even knee deep in it yet. On paper, it sounded like the easiest thing in the world (and it usually does; he found that out quickly while working for the President). Find the First Daughter and bring her home. Cut and dry, really. But Leon's had shit luck his entire life, so why would he start being fortunate now? His idiot superiors neglected to mention the cult of parasitic psychopaths that inhabited the village, so now his super easy, cut and dry mission has turned into a horrific gore fest. At least they were smart enough to send him with back up, as much as he hates to admit it.

Leon's never been one to play nice with others when it comes to The Job. He's got such a big dick ego (and a hero complex to boot), and it honestly makes him insufferable to work with. But so far, he doesn't really have a problem with you. You're competent, quick on your feet, and got a pretty little face that serves as his own personal pallet cleanser after staring at putrid monsters for hours on end. He'd say you're bordering on distracting, but that wouldn't be fair; it's not like it's your fault Leon likes to gawk at you like some horny teenage boy.

He intended to keep his distance during the mission, keep his eye on you sure, but never more than that. Hell, he hardly even speaks to you unless strictly necessary, opting to use hand signals whenever he can. But again, Leon has shit luck and the universe really loves to test his patience because now he's trapped in a run down cabin with you, thanks to the raging storm outside. Normally he'd keep it pushing, but the rain had gotten so thick that neither of you could see two feet ahead. It's honestly a surprise you even managed to find the little cabin as you wandered blindly across the slippery mud trails.

Did Hunnigan really not see this coming? Did nobody think to check the fucking weather or do they just like to fuck with him? The rescue helicopters can't even make it to the village until the storm calms down, which means he'll be here even longer. Whatever. He knows where Ashley is so he can't be too grumpy about this, though he's ready to get it over with so he can leave this awful place. The stench of decaying flesh was starting to make his head throb.

Leon hears you shuffling around in the cabin, most likely pulling supplies together, but he keeps his gaze towards the window, trying his best to see any signs of movement. Seems like the rain slowed the ganados down significantly, so Leon isn't too worried, but the tension in the air makes his skin prick. The tight military gear certainly doesn't help.

He feels a soft thunk against his left shoulder that makes him jump, and he turns around to glare at you. "What?" he hisses. He glances down at the rotting floor to see a granola bar.

"Just thought you could eat while you spiral. My fault," you say flatly, giving him a shrug. You had set up a little spot on the cleanest part of the floor so you could easily go through your pack to take inventory. You're both short on ammo and medicine, and it's highly unlikely that this shit hole has anything y'all could use.

"We need to move soon. My pistol is completely out and I doubt there'd be much ammo in here."

Leon rolls his eyes at you and stalks over to where you're sitting, granola in hand. "No shit. If you wanna wander around the village completely blind, be my guest."

His voice is strained and short, and it's painfully obvious he's pissed, but so are you! He's not the only one stressed and exhausted, and the way he's acting is starting to get on your nerves.

You snap your pistol back together and stand up.

"Well, I'm going to look for supplies. Have fun sulking in here, Sunshine," you say. Leon huffs and and makes a pitiful attempt to hide the fact that he stares at you while you leave the room. It doesn't surprise you, lot of the male agents you work with are pervs, but at least Leon doesn't make it blatantly obvious. Just obvious enough that it gets under your skin.

Leon finishes his sad, little granola bar and leans up against the wall, eyes shut. He's absolutely wrecked from this mission so far, and he’s not even halfway done. Every fiber of his being is telling him to just say fuck it and brave the hurricane outside, but this isn't something he can go risking his life over. No Leon, no Ashley, and he doubts you can finish the job yourself. The thought makes him snicker— half heartedly sure, but he's got nothing if he can't find at least a little humor amidst imminent death.

A few more minutes pass and you're still not back. The cabin isn't big enough for a sweep to take this long. You probably got distracted by some mundane shit like letters or family photos. It's cute. How you still have enough energy to care about monsters lives after gunning down hoards of them not even an hour ago. Still, it makes him uneasy that he can't hear you, call it abandonment issues or whatever the fuck.

A crack of thunder shakes the walls of the cabin and the loud, booming sound irritates Leon's tinnitus. Makes his head pound like nothing else. Maybe you found some medicine, painkillers at the very least.

Leon decides to stalk through the house to find you, ends up spotting half your body under a dusty, broken down bed. He kinda hates himself when he shamelessly stares at your ass as you rifle around for whatever you found. Your back even arches (not unlike all those actresses in the porn he regularly consumes) as you go to push yourself out from under the bed.

"Anything?" he asks, leaning up against the doorframe. He even cracks a smile when he sees you struggling to shimmy out from underneath the, frankly short, bed frame.

"Yeah," you say, sounding hopeful. "Check this out."

You pull a small box out from underneath the bed and open it up for Leon. It's not a lot, but there's at least a case of shotgun shells and half a thing of pistol ammo.

Leon scoffs loudly and stalks over to you. He grabs the box and rifles through it. "That ain't shit," he says, dismissively tossing the box on the mattress. A plume of dust puffs off the sheets.

You cock a brow at him and stand up. "Oh, you're right, Sunshine," you say. The way Leon rolls his eyes at the sarcasm only annoys you further.

"Let me just go to the nearest Bass Pro and fucking stock up. Silly me."

You flop down on the bed and put an arm over your tired eyes. A fucking headache, this guy. It makes the vein in your temple pulse. Despite that, there's a blissful minute of silence where you can just lay there and listen to the strengthening thunderstorm outside.

You feel the mattress dip next to you and peek through your arm to see Leon shedding his backpack and guns. With a grunt, he scoots himself further up the bed so he's propped up against the headboard, eyes pinched shut. The irritated wrinkle between his eyebrows doesn't smooth out even as he gets comfortable, and you're almost certain that his face is just permanently like that.

"Take first watch," he says, crossing his stupidly large arms over his chest.

"Excuse me?"

He sighs and opens his eyes to glare at you. "We have nothing better to do than rest. This isn't a little sleepover where we can paint each other's nails and gossip about boys," he says mockingly.

You scoff and immediately get off the bed, snatching up his shotgun as you go. You make sure to leave him with a parting 'Go fuck yourself' and set up in what you assume used to be a living room.

Leon falls asleep in record time. To be fair, his aching muscles didn't have much energy left after 5 consecutive hours of bullshit, and the granola bar didn't exactly fill his tank. He wasn't expecting a completely peaceful and fulfilling nap— he hasn't had one of those in years, let's be honest— but he certainly wasn't expecting to be passed out for over an hour. It's almost like his body eventually rejects the relaxation, jolting him awake with a gasp. His brain is still fuzzy and the remnants of his dream flood his memory; touching skin and gentle, rhythmic panting. He can't put a face to the body that squirmed beneath him, but their desperate sounds play over and over in his head.

God, his skin is on fire. And the murky, rainy air does little to help. His clothes feel restricting, making him groan and toss his head back. It takes a while for him to even realize he's hard, only does when his dick twitches and bumps the protective cup in his pants.

A flash of silver lightning shines outside the cracked bedroom window, catches his eye, and he turns to look. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees you lying next to him on the bed. You're sound asleep, curled up on the very edge of the mattress so as to not disturb Leon while he slept.

He's not even mad that you didn't wake him up to take watch— anxious as hell because someone could have snuck in while you both slept, sure— but the faster his heart beats, the more his cock throbs.

Leon groans again and unbuckles his belt for some relief. He glances over at you again, rakes his eyes over the curves and dips of your body as you snore softly. A noise escapes you, a sigh most likely, but the breathy sound makes his balls tighten pathetically. His hands move to his zipper before he even fully realizes what he's doing.

It doesn't take long for him to pull his pants down, nearly ripping off his cup so he can palm his erection through his boxers.

That's all, he tells himself, biting his lip as pleasure runs down his legs. Just a bit of relief, nothing more. It's inappropriate, after all, and what is Leon if not the epitome of a golden boy. A really, really fucked up, depressed, traumatized golden boy, but one nonetheless.

He runs a tight fist down his clothed cock and grits his teeth. The scratchy cotton of his boxers is irritating as hell and doesn't leave much room for proper stimulation. Still, it doesn't stop him from leaking an embarrassing amount of pre cum, staining the grey fabric in an inky black.

Another deliciously breathy sound from you, and another groan from Leon before he decides fuck it. He squeezes his dick so hard it hurts. Pain was never really his thing in that way, always opting to punish himself instead whenever he had these thoughts. Like the good Lord taught. But the way his cock aches and pulses afterwards makes him whimper.

You kick a little in your sleep and his eyes dart to your body. Sound asleep, probably dreaming, and Leon hopes to God you're dreaming of him. It's delusional as fuck, but he doesn't have half sense with the cloud of arousal fogging up his brain like this. Right, fuck it.

Before he fully knows what he's doing, Leon is pushing his underwear down and fully stroking his cock. His tip's wet enough that he doesn't need spit, and it makes his cheeks redden, a soft moan slipping passed his bitten lips. He leans over and very gently pushes one of your knees up, putting you in an accessible position.

You don't stir an inch as he reaches around you to clumsily unbuckle your belt, being as quickly— and as stealthily— as he can. The clinking sound of metal being pulled apart echoes in his head and his vision blurs, heart pounding in his chest, as he pulls down your cargo pants.

Leon doesn't do this— he shouldn't be doing this. He's a good Catholic boy, but Lord forgive him, something about this mission has already broken him. Broken down any resolve or inhibitions he may have previously had, making him all stony and cold. The shame is still there of course, always shame, but it's not enough to stop him. Maybe he even revels in it like some sick, perverted freak.

He settles himself closer to you, hot cock nestled comfortably between your asscheeks. A hesitant thrust and he has to bite his lip to muffle the pathetic sound he makes. Oh, he could cum just like this. Humping up against you like a sheltered virgin, all sweat and whining.

Leon can’t waste this opportunity though, and he’s this deep into it so why not go further. If you get him fired or sent to prison at least it’ll be a fucking vacation. He spits on his fingers and immediately slides them between your cunt. He’s not exactly what you’d really call gentle, but the porn he watches taught him that tempting little bitches don’t like gentle. When he’s decided that you’re wet enough— and pushes you so you arch your little pussy out— he smushes the tip of his cock against your hole.

Only then do you startle, opening your tired eyes as much as you can and mumbling a “Huh?” into your pillow. Your body is still in between fighting consciousness when Leon shoves his cock inside of you, and the surprised grunt you let out makes him curse.

You’re tight. Could be because you’re still dry, but Leon likes to think it’s because his cock is too much for you. You let out a raspy yelp when he thrusts against you, the force making you bounce up the mattress. He sinks the pads of his fingertips into your hips to keep you steady, before fucking you with a rough, fast pace despite himself. He knows he should savor this, God only knows the next time he’ll get pussy again, but burning need to cum consumes him. Attacks his prefrontal cortex like a fucking virus.

Still delirious, you can’t even fight Leon off. Not that you could even if you were fully awake; he’s a fucking tank compared to you. And it doesn’t help that his cock repeatedly plows against your cervix, knocking the wind out of you.

“L-Leon… wha’ are you doing?” you croak. The force of his thrusts makes dust puff off the mattress, making you choke on coughs. You turn your head as much as you can to look at him pleadingly. Even through the dark bedroom, you can see sweat glistening off his furrowed brow, and how he’s pointedly avoiding your gaze. He lets out a breathy grunt and he presses your face into the pillow roughly, hand right over your mouth.

“D-don’t,” he hisses, speeding his hips until your ass jiggles with each thrust. And just like that, his annoyance towards you comes crashing back. He misses when you were asleep, letting him touch and rub all over you with no defiance. Briefly, he wishes you had found painkillers, strong ones. Could keep you nice and pliant while he violates you.

“Fuck… Fuck!”

His balls tighten almost painfully, making him groan, head tossed back and eyebrows furrowed. White hot pleasure courses through his body so hard his thrusts turn sloppy, grinding against your ass like he wants to die like this. Buried deep in your pussy.

You feel Leon’s cock pulse before ropes of thick cum coat your walls. He’s panting like a beast above you as his balls finally empty, using your little hole like his own personal fleshlight. He slams his cock into you one last time for good measure, laughing under his shallow breath when you gasp harshly.

Relief washes over you when Leon pulls his softening cock from your hole before collapsing on the bed. He doesn’t even bother pulling your pants up, not that you expected him to, but fuck. It’s the least he could do. You lay there, unable to do anything about the uncomfortable, sticky sensation of cum dripping out of your hole.

After a moment of eerie, tense silence, Leon pulls his pants back up and lays as far away from you as possible. Thunder rattles the cabin, and he watches the smashed light fixture on the ceiling swing. He keeps his eyes on it, just so he doesn’t have to look at you. What’s worse is, he doesn’t regret it. Mainly, he feels bad. He’s never seen you so pathetic and it icks him out.

“Sorry,” he mutters, voice flat and void, before turning over and shutting his eyes. You know he’s not really sorry, it’s pretty apparent, but the apology makes your stomach feel a little warm. Not often a guy would apologize. You’re certainly not stupid enough to think Leon cares for you, but the fantasy takes over your mind and— even if it’s your fucked up way of coping— you feel yourself getting giddy.

#READ THE TAGS BITCH #if this flops i might **** myself #oh also im not makin those fucking boarders anymore like omg im lazy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 smut #resident evil smut

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 28th April ✨

Happy Audio Drama Sunday! I started two new shows this week and fell in love with both of them!! 

👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E8.5) ohhhhhh I’m so emotional. The end of this series is going to make me cry so many happy tears, I can just feel it. 

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (149) With the description this week, I think I truly realised just how scary-looking the pig man is 😰 Things are looking decidedly down for Shelby and Clem. Eek. God, Valerie!!! She’s such an interesting character because you can literally connect the dots of her trauma but still be slightly disappointed by the consequences on her behaviour! And the poor Mr Greenstreets ☹️ Raj is very Syrensyr coded?? Vincent as a grief counsellor makes me wonder… about who or what Voltaire is…. 

Also, I want the Auditor to be Polly so bad and I want Nikignik to get out of the interrogation by bargaining to reunite him with Yaretzi and Mort - PLEASE. 

🧳 Travelling Light by @monstrousproductions (19) I loved seeing our Traveller stand up for themself!! It’s always so fun to see characters who are usually soft gain a backbone of steel because their core values are tested. And the discussion of the nanobots was so interesting!! The laws on nanobots elsewhere when they are literally required for survival makes the entire person illegal. And we all know that’s not right!!! 

👁️ @malevolentcast (41) I’m thinking that maybe Rafters was an exception that proves the rule… Alexander the owl was creepy as anything and I hated the way he seemed to be guiding them towards the crack in the wall. Now we’re in a possible parallel universe, it feels like all bets are off and I’m scared to even consider what might happen to John and Arthur now! 

⚔️ @camlannpod (8) OUGH. Oh my god. Can’t they just have FIVE MINUTES to RELAX?? I actually snorted out loud at: ‘you’re good with an axe, right’. Pere is a little shit and I love that for them. Morgan!!! 🫨 And Dai!!! I’m so hopeful that starting down this path will lead to good (or, at least, a whole load of shenanigans for S2!) 

🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (13) It’s very interesting to me that we were able to listen in on Sam and Cecilia’s date… how did that work? There’s something here about gambling and chance with this story and the previous one about the dice rolling?? I’m connecting the dots (I’m not connecting shit). 

🌞 Small Victories by @wgc-productions is so good, I wish I’d started listening years ago. I love the 90s sitcom vibe and the intro/outro are so unique. I absolutely love shows that centre around character studies. Marisol’s story is so gripping and I love how the writing takes us right inside her brain as she justifies every decision (good or bad). It’s so clear how loveable she is and how much people around her want her to be okay (mostly), but don’t know *how* to get her to that place given the shit they’re dealing with themselves! I got up to 1.09 so . . . bit of a cliffhanger there!! I’m very excited to see how the story progresses. I’m rooting for you, Tiny!! 

🧋 I started @hinaypod and it’s safe to say that I’m in love already! Listening has given me the same amazing feeling of listening to Desperado - the sensation that the creators have opened up a door to a brand new world and I’m so happy to be in it! I adore Mari. Even from episode one, she has this quiet self-confidence in herself and her skills which is so refreshing. I also really like the horror writing here and I’m really looking forward to delving deeper into this story! 

Hope everyone has a good week! 💙

#audiodramasunday #tell no tales #hfth spoilers #travelling light #malevolent spoilers #camlann #tmagp spoilers #small victories #hi nay

[crescentrivers]

I wrote down my thoughts while I watched working boys and so I don’t make a million posts about it here’s just everything I wrote, under the cut because it’s a little long and cause spoilers

I never really understood the obsession with minor background characters some HF fans have until now, Hailey ily

It takes balls kind of goes hard but that’s only because all the singers are incredible

The reveal that Hidgens getting struck by lightning was how the workin boys died was insane. I actually wasn’t aware the workin boys died until the pit stop in Hatchetfield stream I thought they were fine until getting infected in TGWDLM. RIP the mark chastity is workin boys Mark joke headcanon

Why is Grace even watching the show if she thinks it’s about hookers??? also is Grace friends with Richie and Ruth in this timeline

Everyone is so good at singing aaaaaaaaa

Also can I point out how Hidgens gets more and more deranged every time we see him? Like he was a little crazy in TGWDLM then ape-man happened, and now this. He’s on a downward spiral and I love it

Workin Boys is clearly very personal to Hidgens him saying it’s loosely based on personal experiences is such a lie. He listens to the girls’ AMAZING singing and then says everything is horrible because it’s not like his boys

Are the zombies their real ghosts or is Pokey being silly. The blue lighting isn’t helpful in me figuring this out.

Hidgens is gay for Chad (we kind of already knew that but it’s just more obvious now)

Okay this is definitely Pokey’s fault I doubt the workin boys are that evil cause they’re suggesting he kills or something

Poor Ruth, would yall hate me if I said this made me feel more sympathy for her than just for once (maybe my opinion will change if I rewatch NPMD but this is how I feel right now) just for once is a good song though

The girls are incredible singers please don’t let them die

I won’t stand for this Hailey abuse

HES GONNA KILL THEM OH NO

RUTH PLEASE LIVE RICHIE IS IN THE CROWD HES YOUR FRIEND (and I think Grace is her friend in this timeline too???)

Oh that’s some gore

Linda saying good about the actresses being dead-

The Starlight Theatre is small actually (I know that’s probably just budget things and it’s bigger in universe but it’s interesting to think about considering the touring production of mamma Mia went there)

Ted got shot in the head like in TGWDLM

Grace saying wow after shooting him. She’s a little bloodthirsty in every timeline I think

The gore??? It’s crazy

Grace saves people from deranged killers but ends up becoming a deranged killer herself, this is becoming a running theme in the timelines

(She doesn’t know about the LIB in this timeline so maybe things will be fine this time but I don’t trust that)

Linda clapping at the end of the show-

I’m sad about Ruth dying and I’m sad that her friend(s) were in the audience too

This leaves me with more questions than answers about the zombies, like I’m assuming blaming Pokey is reasonable but we also don’t know so-

Rip Ruth rip Hailey rip the rest of the girls rip the workin boys rip Ted rip Hidgens

All the songs are great also

#my post #Hatchetfield #hatchetverse #starkid #workin boys