#about a socialite who isn’t really a socialite

[queerjesusthelord]

Sometimes I think about how depressed and lonely Villanelle must have been her whole life. The only thing she was passionate about was killing in her artistic way and wearing fancy clothes. Luxurious things. Adrenaline and fast endorphins.

Before meeting Eve she had felt bored and numb. When she wasn’t doing her job she needed to stay low, invisible – to be invincible. She could afford everything but still – it was crucial to be a loner. Those brief sexual encounters could hardly be counted. Even in the books, her character was constantly disguising herself, making "friends" to seem like a socialite and occasionally having sex to control these people who might be useful. She even seduces her therapist to feel power over her. 

But as soon as she gets what she wants, she gets bored and doomed again. It's very sad and depressing to be rejected by the world, by her family, by society. Deep down, she knows that even by controlling things, she can't be happy. Eventually she admits that this isn't the life she wants, that she feels like shit all the time, and the only person she feels something with is Eve.

It's actually Konstantine too, so we have to admit that Villanelle isn't just obsessed with Eve, she's actually capable of being in relationships with a few people. It doesn't have to be a crowd, a small family is enough. Konstantine is family. And Eve is her passion and love, her soulmate, her crush who actually turned into a real thing.

I love that even in her boredom and depression, Villanelle admits that she has feelings for Eve, and she tells her the truth, all the time, since her hilarous breaking and entering in Eve’s bathroom. She doesn't lie to Eve, she doesn't need to, because she believes that Eve can really understand her on a deeper level. This means hope, and hope means the future. Villanelle believes in her future, in their future with Eve, and it's wonderful, isn’t it? It's her way of accepting life, embracing her feelings, and her ability to love someone else. 

There’s nothing like “playing cold” in their story like in most of the movies and romances. It’s just Eve being in denial, processing feelings she has, having a hard time embracing her shadow part (and she prefers things to be buried, as we remember). Well, this process needed time, and Villanelle was waiting. It was hard for her too, because sometimes she felt disappointed and hopeless and god, she hated that so much! That’s why she tried to run away and get over Eve several times. She’s only a human, after all. 

But in the end they both “get the achievable”, after they work on their relationship. Finally they can be happy together, left alone in a room and be committed to each other.

And that's exactly what Eve is talking about, using the metaphor of Kintsugi on that damn ship.

#killing eve #villaneve #eve x villanelle #villanelle #eve x oksana #eve polastri #sandra oh #jodie comer #eve x villanelle kiss #killing eve thoughts #killing eve theories

[thestarsofpines]

a little wip of a combination of prompts and AUs I've seen that I just had to give my own take on.

Damian was bored. He’d followed Father around for most of the night, listening absentmindedly to the trivial blabbering of rich socialites that tried to suck up to the prince of Gotham. He could only handle it for so long, patience quickly running out as a few shoved their own children his way, perhaps hoping the young heir would make a friend and create easier access to the Wayne wealth. Pitiful. 

The young teen stood off to the side of a polished dance floor that had couples mingling and swaying to the soft classical music playing. He’d picked up a drink and was sipping at it slowly, just to have something to do with his hands. He itched for something to do that wasn’t making small, meaningless talk.

He hears footsteps approaching, perhaps a bit heavier than intended, as if it was a warning for someone that they were approaching.

“Little Badger, we talked about this in great detail earlier, you are not to leave my sight-“

Just as a man moves to place a hand on Damian’s shoulder, the teen turns around and glares at the man. He takes in the details of the man quickly; older, likely mid forties if not older, gray hair pulled back into a low ponytail, vibrant blue eyes that at first are narrowed at him in perhaps annoyance before they turn wide with shock. The man recovers quickly, expression turning apologetic as he steps back.

“Oh-my most sincere apologies, I thought you were someone else!” He breathes out, and his expression shifts again to one of slight surprise as he takes in more of Damian’s features from the front. “My, you two do look quite alike.” He says easily, hand coming back to rest beside him before he places both his hands behind his back. “I do apologize again, young sir…?”

Bruce spots this interaction, politely ends the conversation he was in, and makes his way over to investigate. 

“Damian Wayne, my son.” Bruce slides up to the pair, standing easily at Damian’s right. “Vlad Masters, yes?”

Said man’s eyes widen ever so slightly at the easy recognition and at the fact that he could’ve accidentally torn into such an influential young man as he’d been planning to do to whoever he was looking for, but he recovers quickly again.

“Yes, I was just apologizing to your boy here, Mr. Wayne. It seems he has quite a lot of physical similarities to my godson.”

Damian remains silent, but nods in the direction of the billionaire. Something isn’t sitting right with him about Masters, but he can’t put it into words. He’ll allow Father to handle the situation, for the moment. 

“Oh? Why, that is quite interesting.” Bruce smiles, open and disarming. He places a hand on Damian’s shoulder, and gives a subtle squeeze. “What’s the young man’s name?”

“Daniel,” And the grip tightens ever so slightly. “He is the son of some old family friends who unfortunately cannot take care of him anymore, so I’ve become his legal guardian in their stead.”

“How kind, opening your house to a youth in need.” Bruce continues, pushing for more information. “From experience I know how hard that can be. Raising a teenager is no cakewalk that’s for sure.”

“Oh yes, I do recall hearing of your experiences with adoption; you’re up to four adoptions now, yes?” There’s a hint of something in Vlad’s eyes, likely aware of the information seeking nature of this conversation but unconcerned by it. Intriguing. “I can hardly claim to have such kindness, one fifteen year old is enough for me.”

Damian has to physically restrain his face from reacting. Perhaps this is another cloning situation. Perhaps this Vlad Masters should be higher on the priority list of people to investigate closely. 

“Oh, well I do believe I have taken up enough of your time, Mr. Wayne. I really must get looking for Daniel, as we do intend to leave soon.” Vlad holds out a hand to the two, smiling confidently. “It was a pleasure to meet you both.” 

Bruce takes it and shakes it politely; Damian’s following is more forced in its gentleness. Vlad Masters unsettles him and it is driving him mad that he cannot pinpoint why. 

“Enjoy the rest of the gala, Vlad Masters. Perhaps our paths will cross again soon.”

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #demon twin au #damian and danny are twins #danny is trans #will be important later #i haven't sat down and written this much in years-the document is over 25 pages holy shit #my writing #writing wip #my wips

[kitkats-and-kittens]

One of my favourite things to think about is the rest of the batfam all having their own ‘Brucie Wayne’ personas. So here’s me listing how I imagine the main family members would front to the public.

Dick

I think would be very similar to Bruce with the same air-headed personality. As far as the internets concerned he can’t spell orange and pretends not to know any of the 50 states let alone which one he lives in. He also uses the fact that he never officially finished college to his advantage. As a kid he was more eccentric and people just knew him as that little kid whose constantly high of sugar and lollipops. Not much changes when becomes an adult.

Of course like father like son and he is also extremely charismatic. His persona is a little more goofy than Bruce’s and he’s known as the Wayne’s resident gymnast, at least in the air. He’s made a habit of acting as though any and all fine motor skills come to an absolute stop the moment he isn’t doing some complex flip, or cartwheel. There are serval videos on YouTube of him tripping over air, spilling drinks over his shirt, and stumbling into several guests, only half of these were faked. He also has a reputation of being an absolutely insane drunk. He went viral on twitter for doing a triple backflip in the middle of a gala which resulted in a shattered punch bowl, several traumatised guests and a fake news report claiming he’d died which sent the city into a riot for the next 24 hours all because he was a little bit tipsy.

Jason

Jason was pretty young when he ‘died’. Before hand he was the happy go lucky kid. With stars in his eyes and more energy than a Chihuahua hiked up on red bull and pure, liquified blue raspberry. Of course you had the occasional leech who saw in some news report that he used to be a street kid which resulted in several rumours about his ‘horrid violent nature’ but all it took was actually meeting him for most to completely disregard this.

After his death he doesn’t hang around the rest of the family much. Especially not in public and out of masks. However there is the occasional day (once every millennia or so) where he’ll stroll up to whatever part or gala or social event the Wayne’s are hosting that day, with his foolproof, impenetrable disguise Tayson Jodd absolutely no relation to Brucies dead kid, nor the elusive red hood who has a hate account dedicated to his very existence.

His whole thing tends to be a regular upstanding member of society. He acts completely normal. This wasn’t always the case. He used to change it every time he went to the parties, either acting as some depressed, lonely rich guy or an alcoholic and on one particularly memorable occasion a closeted drag Queen. However one time he showed up without a persona pre made and ready to go and just decided to wing it.

However Tim Drakes insane paranoia meant he stayed up a good 3 weeks after that night just to make sure Jason wasn’t trying anything and when Red hood found out he found it absolutely hilarious and resolved to be as respectable as possible while also generating maximum suspicion for all other members of his family.

Stephanie Brown

Although not officially adopted by the Wayne’s most people have gotten used to seeing her just roll up with the Wayne’s and it didn’t take long for social media to realise that Brucie had emotionally adopted her, if not legally. At first Steph didn’t really understand the need for a persona. She was already fine with keeping her actual personality and not turning it off for the cameras.

It took seeing Jason, who was having an absolute blast with his public persona to open her mind to the range of possibilities and she spent a full 3 months crafting a personality from scratch (putting that psychology degree to good use).

She cycled through a couple. Rich party girl, serious career woman, ditzy idiot. But eventually she landed on scheming socialite. She saw some tabloids slandering her for being Tim’s ex and although the rest of the family was not happy she took it and ran with it. Landing herself in the circles of the most gossip loving, shit talking, hot woman she could find.

She makes sure she exudes villainy at all times and has been seen eyeing Timothy Drake from across the room, stroking a cat (though no one knew where she got it from) and sipping a martini. Although she doesn’t particularly like how cruel some of her companions are she finds no greater joy than passively aggressively remarking about how Donna is wearing the same heels she was 3 years ago and oh my is she running low on funds? She was born to instigate and takes every opportunity to do so.

Tim Drake

If Tim is known for anything then it’s his ability to appear as though everything has gone to his exact calculations on the outside while internally screaming and just completely winging whatever half brained plan comes to mind. But one forgets, he isn’t just a Wayne but a Drake. Son of Janet Drake at that.

As a kid he was very much a mamas boy and would replicate her cold calculating air to the best abilities of a 10 year old boy. As he grew up however he realised that he much preferred letting people underestimate him. So in the end he settled on the stoner.

It was pretty unexpected for most of his family. Bar Dick who embraced it with all the reverence of a chaotic older sibling. Of course Tim Drake being as meticulous as he is meant when he made this persona built it from the ground up. He gave himself a favourite drug, a fake dealer, and he methodically updates his account balance every week, taking out just enough that it looks like he’s been buying.

Not only does this have the added benefit of explaining the random times he’s passed out in the middle of a party or those random compilations of him on YouTube simply staring into the abyss for hours on end, but it also means he had to try way less than his siblings when it comes to presentation. If Dick or Bruce show up with even so much as a slightly ruffled collar the tabloids will go on for weeks about the mystery guy or girl they definitely slept with. But when Tim does it, they just laugh. He gets a pat on the head and a glass of water shoved into his hands and no one thinks anything more.

And if he can also use it as an excuse for a few extra minuets of sleep then whose going to stop him?

Cassandra Cain

Cass didn’t need to do much of anything. When she first arrived in Gotham she was small, quite and not very well versed in social customs so it was practically written in the stars that she’d become an instant fan favourite. However unlike most of her siblings most of her fans aren’t focused on her what she’s been doing, or with who, but rather on trying to spot her.

She’s some aloof, mysterious figure to them and she’s also become a bit of a where’s Waldo meme. News reporters will post overview shots of the huge hall the guest are occupying, the grounds of the manor, the well kept lawns, the roofs, and the internet will go crazy trying to find her. At first it was difficult but only because she kept to herself, you’d find her in a corner of the room, or hiding behind one of the taller guests but ever since she realised what was going on she’s been making a conscious effort to make it as difficult as possible.

Some of her hiding spots include: under the table, the roof, inside the fountain, disguised as Dick Grayson, a statue, on the chandelier, and somehow as one of the reporters, camera and all. It’s become a bit of a game to see who can find her first and she remains Gothams favourite Wayne.

Duke Thomas

Duke isn’t really sure what to make of this whole public persona thing. He finds hiding such a big part of himself a little strange, and doesn’t much enjoy the idea of putting on a mask for others. So he does what he does best and puts the rest of the Wayne’s to shame with his sound logic.

He’s just himself. And somehow manages to cause the biggest impact. The people aren’t used to rich people not being overly eccentric. This is Gotham after all! And Duke Thomas’ actual personality is not exactly something they were expecting.

This is the same man who raised an army of teenage armies in the absence of his hero. To call him impulsive would be an understatement. Also he very much enjoys ‘eating the rich’ so to speak. He used his powers to convince one particularly nasty man that he needed full psychiatric care by randomly disappearing whenever he was in their line of sight.

He hangs out with Dick a lot, but only so when the worst of the Gotham socialites approach he can make them feel as uncomfortable as possible by questioning their thoughts and feelings on the working class, living conditions and all the other stuff they usually couldn’t care less about which leaves them scrambling for an answer that won’t completely ruin their reputations. Although he’s been branded ‘the responsible one’ that’s only because he presents himself as such to reporters. Most of the people attending the galas live in fear of him ever approaching them.

Damian Wyane

Being the youngest meant that people already had expectations by the time Damian showed up. Although most had no idea where the kid came from that didn’t stop them from making assumptions, and the rumours circulating from before he was officially introduced range from a mini Bruce Wayne to raging alcoholic. And yes, these were published when reporters knew damn well he was 10 years old maximum.

When the public do finally see him for the first time it doesn’t take them long to craft a persona for him. Damian of course sees this whole thing as beneath him, he doesn’t understand why he would need to hide himself, he didn’t train with the league for years to just not show of his skills. Dick tries to get him to think of it like training, as though he were on an undercover mission. This works a little too well and now he takes it so incredibly seriously it’s hard for the others not to laugh.

He arrived, squeezed in between Brucie Wayne who was blowing kisses to the camera, Dick Grayson doing a handstand, Tim Drake who looked absolutely blitzed and Stephanie Brown who was manically rubbing her hands together. Cass nowhere to be found and Duke giving his classic sunny smile to the camera.

So of course people realise this kid must be the adult. There’s jokes about how Damian must be the one doing the Wayne’s taxes, about how he probably drives Bruce to work, and other such things. Which is only further cemented by the kid himself. But he also doesn’t talk much (Dick said if he had nothing nice to say he shouldn’t say anything), and a few (illegally taken) photos show him drawing, as well as his small army of pets and so people are torn between this kid who is clearly far too mature for his age and this cute baby of a child who likes fluffy animals and crayons.

Damian is disgusted by both sides, but there isn’t much he can do about it and resolves instead to fuck with everyone by leaning into it and alternating on a seemingly random basis between clueless child and grown adult in a 10 year olds body. It mostly ends up terrifying the rest of his family because occasionally Damian (who several of them watched kill a man) will come up smiling and demand to be placed on their shoulders, and other times the same kid (who found a cow a decided immediately he was a vegetarian) will be found sipping straight vodka and going on about the good old days with people 8x his age as though he were some drunken world war 2 veteran.

#bruce wayne #richard grayson #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #Public persona #batfam #they were born to terrorise the rich #dc comics #brucie wayne #Tayson Jodd

[fuckmyskywalker]

❄️ 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟔𝐭𝐡 : 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 - 𝐀𝐉

— CW: 18+. Smut. Fingering. Slight Exhibitionism (yes, again). Slight age gap (reader is 21, A.J. is 31). | Word Count: 1.3k (not proofread!)

— a/n: Happy second day of the Anyafest! Sorry for the delay. Had some little complications hehe.

— Anyafest 2023 + Taglist!

“Where did you learn to play piano, Mr. A.J.?” You ask with a curious tilt, crossing your legs as you sit on the lid of the large black piano. His lips curl to a smile as he breathes a little chuckle. “What? I just want to know.”

“You are an inquisitive young lady,” A.J. replies, his pale fingers dancing over the piano tiles and maintaining a conversation with you without even looking, pure muscle memory. It fascinates you. Everything about him is mysterious and fascinating— he might be one of your favorite father’s colleagues. You know very little about him, you’ve known him for half a year and been captivated by him for half of that time. “How come your father hasn’t come looking for you?”

“He’s too busy chatting with Mr. Carter” You shrug. “Plus, the party was getting a little crowded, it is nice to find a quiet spot.” And to be alone with him, of course.

The empty music room was always a sanctuary, but when he is there showing off a talent you can’t still figure out completely, as if he was born with it— you seem to forget about the outer world. A part of you wishes he could feel the same but he has never shown signs of it. A.J. has never declined your presence either so you are at least sure that he enjoys having you around, whether it’s for courtesy for being his friend’s daughter or because he genuinely likes you. You have no clue.

“Must be tiring for a young socialite like yourself.”

The teasing edge of his voice makes you smile. You remain quiet for a little while, only enjoying the melodic tune coming from the strings underneath you. If you focus enough you can feel the gentle vibrations of the piano, a sensation somehow comforting. “So,” A.J. is the one who broke the silence. “What happened with that boy I saw you with last month?”

The question throws you off. He has never asked something so personal; you pout with another shrug, not really knowing what to say. “It wasn’t anything serious. I guess we were looking for different things. He wanted a compromise right away… and now that I think about it, he wasn’t even my type.”

“Oh, is that so?” He stops playing for a moment to crack his fingers, noticing how your eyes drift to the flex of his wrists and knuckles. “And what’s exactly your type?”

With a hum, you swing your legs. “I don’t know— I think he was trying to rush things, so definitely a rusher isn’t my type.”

“In what way?”

“He was talking about marriage after the second week.”

This time he laughs and you join him. Your laughter mixes with the music and you can swear you have never heard something more beautiful. “That is rushing things,” You were glad A.J. agreed with you. “And what else?”

“Well, a smart man never hurts anybody. Maybe older than me for a change.” It was a risky answer but you don’t have much to lose. 

“An older man?” A.J. quirks an eyebrow waiting for you to elaborate.

“Yeah, not much though. I don’t want him to be ancient. I think ten years older would be my limit.” You look away as you say these words— kind of embarrassed for highlighting the exact age difference between A.J. and you. 

A.J. seems to ponder your answer but his face doesn’t change much. After another round of silence, he stops playing again. Standing up from the small velvet stool he towers in front of the piano to close the lid. “Ten years isn’t much, I suppose.” You decide to try something bolder; turning your body, to face him fully. Your bare legs dangle over the piano lid, almost brushing his thighs. 

“You think so?” 

“I know so,” Another smirk draws on his lips, but this time is quite different from any other you’ve seen. His left hand brushes over your ankle, his index finger tracing the strap of your heel. “I guess I’d be fine with dating someone ten years younger.” Your heart jolts at his words, blinking as if you couldn’t believe what he just said. A.J. chuckles at your reaction, raising his hand to caress your calf all the way to your knee. His hands are surprisingly warm, and you find yourself drawn to the feeling. 

“Mr. A.J.?” You whisper, leaning back slightly when he inches forward slowly. 

“Just call me A.J, dollface. I’m not that old.” His palm ventures to your thigh, his fingertips touching the hem of your red dress. “You know, red looks good on you.”

“Thank you” You mumble sheepishly. 

Hovering over you, his lips kiss your jaw chastely as if he were testing the waters. “You are a very beautiful lady, I’m glad you got rid of that boy.” Sliding his hand between your thighs, he touched the fabric of your underwear. “Tell me to stop and I will, okay?” A.J. whispers, returning his lips to your cheek and kissing it repeatedly. You nod weakly, spreading your thighs as much as the dress allows you to. His thumb traces your clothed folds, teasing you. 

He continues caressing you, taking his time despite knowing that someone could walk in at any moment. But something tells you that he isn’t going to stop anyway. Finally, he touches your clit, circling it deliberately. A soft moan from your part makes him smile again, you are not even surprised in the slightest that his hands are even more skilled in more ways than one. It feels like ages have passed until he finally moves your panties to the side, collecting some of your slick to continue his assault on your clit.

“So wet already… is this all for me?” 

“Yes,” You breathe, your thighs tensing with delight. He fucking knows what he is doing with that husky voice of his. “All for you.”

“Good girl.”

A.J. slides one finger, releasing a small grunt of amusement when your walls hug his digit tightly. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t fantasized about this. Of course he has seen the way you look at him, always biting your lower lip, addressing him so politely and nicely, always batting your mascara-coated eyelashes… everything you do is alluring to him. Adding a second finger to the mix, he makes sure to lift his hand so the heel of his palm rubs against your clit. Reaching to remove his hat, he places it over your head. “You look gorgeous.” A.J. compliments you. His hat fits you a tad big, but you can still see him despite the dark brim. You want to thank him, to show him your damn gratitude for making you feel so good but you can’t. He crooks his fingers inside you, rubbing them against your G-spot and causing your whole body to jolt forward. 

“That’s it, good girl—” He coos at you, leaning down and moving his neck to the side to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. “Are you going to come?”

“Uh-uh,” It’s a dumb, mindless mumble but it’s enough. He speeds up, charmed by the wet sounds that your pussy makes for him— for A.J. that’s even more lovely than any tune his fingers can play… this is a different type of music; primal and raw, passionate and erotic. His favorite one. 

“Not yet.” He withdraws his fingers, kissing you again when you moan in discontentment. “Patience, dollface. Not here. Let’s go to a place where I can listen to you properly.”

You look at him with puppy eyes, pouted red lips, and a heaving chest. “My room is upstairs…” It’s an offering, and one he wouldn’t decline. A.J. smirks again, bringing his coated fingers to his lips and licking them clean. The action is short and silent but it speaks volumes.

“That’s better. And keep the hat, precious. I want to see you with it while you ride me.”

— ❄️ Taglist! : @offthethirlwall | @pockcock | @shellxrls | @anisdoll | @wifeofasith | @anakinsgirlfriendreal | @urmomsfav0 | @anisgurll | @mortalheartache | @arzua10 | @haydensgirlaela | @bimbo-baggins86

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes! #𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anyafest 2023! #aj smut #aj takers #aj x reader smut #aj takers smut #takers 2010 #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen

[sailor-aviator]

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Language, Jake flirting, nothing else really.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: So, I lied. Here's another update for you all. Feel like the quality might have dropped off a little halfway since I wrote the last half on my phone at work lol I'm not sure yet if I'll have anything to post tomorrow as I work weird hours, but here's hoping! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. My inbox is always open to chat. 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

“Well, this is it,” Benjamin proclaimed proudly. You looked at the house before you. It was a large, two story home with freshly painted white walls and matching white picket fence surrounding the yard. A chimney was built on both sides of the house, and a giant porch hugged the front as well as the second floor. A barn sat further down the path that led to your new home, and a simple wooden fence stretched even further.

“It’s beautiful, Benji,” you started, “but how much land did you purchase?”

Benjamin rubbed his neck sheepishly. “About one thousand acres.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “One thousand acres? Benji!”

“Hear me out, Scout,” he pleaded. “The cattle we raise will bring in even more money. We can establish a legacy here!”

“We already had a legacy,” you muttered, and Benjamin fixed you with soft, pleading eyes. You sighed. “You don’t even know the first thing about raising cattle.”

He perked up. “Oh, Maverick said he’d teach me all I need to know. Even made suggestions on who to hire as ranch hands when the time comes. He’s the one that convinced me to seek out my fortunes.”

“Was he now?” you murmured, already plotting what you were going to say to the town’s founder when you met him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Benjamin, and you glanced up at him. “But this will be good for us, Scout. We’ll be a part of history and expanding our country. Making it better.”

You hummed, and he continued with a sigh. “The truth is, Scout, my firm isn’t making as much money as I had hoped out here. Ranching will help bolster our income until I can become more established in these parts.”

You sighed, knowing there wasn’t much you could say in argument. Instead, you turned back to look at the house, shadows growing darker as the sun finally disappeared below the horizon. “Let’s go then. I’m eager to see the new house.”

Benjamin practically skipped up to the house, holding the door open for you as you stepped inside. It was much grander than you were expecting. Wooden floors gave way to a grand staircase that turned into the next floor. You made your way through one of the archways and found yourself in the parlor. Your familiy’s furniture already decorate the room, and you brushed your fingers gently over the top of the grand piano in the corner. Continuing, you found yourself standing in a large kitchen, one of the fireplaces taking up a large portion of the far wall.

“If you’re hungry, I think Natasha left some stew for us,” Benjamin, striding over to where a pot hung above the small fire. You raised an eyebrow, barely containing your smirk.

“Does Natasha cook for you often?”

You saw a blush creep its way onto your brother’s face as he straightened up to look at you with a small pout. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

You chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “I’m only teasing, Benji. But, no. I’m not hungry at the moment. I’d much rather get some rest after my long day of travel.”

Benjamin nodded and led you up the stairs. He stopped in front of the second door on the right, opening it and gesturing for you to step inside. Doing so, you saw your familiar pieces of furniture that you had shipped off weeks ago. Your hand mirror sat on your vanity, and your wardrobe door was opened to reveal your more practical, every day use dresses. You walked further into the room and up to the window. Peering out, you could faintly make out the barn and rolling desert in the sprawling darkness. If you looked harder, you could faintly see the outline of the distant mountains. Turning back to face your brother, you offered a smile.

“It’s lovely, Benji. Thank you.”

Benjamin returned your smile and gestured down the hall. “My room is two down if you need me for anything.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine for the evening. Go on,” you waved him off. “You need your sleep just as much as I do.

“Before I forget, Maverick has invited us to dinner with him and his wife, Penny, the night after next,” he said. You nodded, letting him know that you had heard.With one last smile, Benjamin closed the door behind him.

“Benji, have you gone shopping for supplies at all, or do you send poor Natasha out to do your tasks?” you cluckled impatiently, finding nothing but a stale loaf of bread in the pantry. You had managed to collect the eggs from the chicken coop earlier that morning, and that was all that made up you and your brother’s meager breakfast.

“I haven’t the time, Scout,” he mumbled, already gathering his things for the day. “Besides, you know I’m not much of a cook.”

“How you’ve survived this long, I’ll never understand,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Benjamin looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Eye rolling is not becoming of a proper young lady,” he snickered. Scowling you made to whip him with the towel you held in your hand.

“Go, before you’re late,” you hollered as he rushed out the door. Sighing, you made a mental note to teach him at least some of the basics in the upcoming days. Turning, you marchd back into the pantry and looked at the empty shelves disdainfully with hand on your hips.

“Honestly,” you muttered, exasperated at how incompetent your brother seemed at doing the most basic of things. You made a list of things you would need in the upcoming days, and walked out to take another look at the house. As much as your brother could fumble on the small things, he did have an eye for home decor. There were very few pieces of furniture you wanted to move around across the whole house, and you made another mental note to let Benjamin know that evening when he returned.

Walking out the front door with a basket in hand for your supplies, your eyes were drawn to a small patch of the front yard that had been fenced off. How you hadn’t noticed it the night before was beyond you, and you chose to chalk it up to fatigue from your journey. You walked over and saw several gardening tools scattered along the ground. You realized this must have been the garden Benjamin had mentioned yesterday to you in his excitement.You added seeds to your list of supplies for the day.

You turned away from the garden and made sure to latch the gate to your front yard securely before strolling down the path into town.

Today was much like yesterday had been. People walking up and down the streets, shouting at one another in greeting, and children still running about. You wondered why they weren’t in school at this time of day. You resolved yourself to asking Maverick about it the next evening at dinner. Turning down on to the main street, you stepped onto the porch of the general store. Across the street at the saloon, you saw a group of men gathered by the enterance. One of them turned and saw you, and you supressed an eye roll when he lout out a long whistle.

“Hey there, darlin’!” he called out to you. He was handsome, you’d give him that. His dark skin glowed in the sunlight and you could make out his white smile from across the road. Strong muscles were hidden by his simple, white cotton shirt and beige wool pants. A hat covered his short, dark hair. Choosing to ignore the stranger, and by extension his four companions who had turned to look your way, you walked into the general store. the owner greeted you as you stepped into the spacious room that housed a multitude of goods from different places.

“Howdy, miss!” He chirped, leaning against the counter with a smile. He was older, dark skin weathered. “Haven’t seen you ‘round these parts before. The name’s Hondo.”

You returned his smile warmly. “A pleasure, Hondo. My name is y/n. My brother is Benjamin, perhaps you know him? He runs the firm just down the road.”

“Ah, yes!” He chuckled. “The lawyer from Baltimore. Well, miss, you’re in luck! I’ve just gotten back from Independence with new goods and wears! If you’re looking more in the ways of sugar and molasses, i’m afraid you’ll have to wait until my partner, Joel, arrives back in town. Should be any day now, in fact.”

“I see, and what is that you have today?” You inquired, taking in the multitudes of crates still scattered around the counter.

“Let’s see,” Hondo thought. “I got some salt and some fine new tools from St.Louis. I also managed to trade for some fresh produce down by Independence.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smiled as Hondo began showing you his wears.

You spent about a half hour picking out the best produce Hondo had to offer, making plans to return when his partner made it back into town.

“Hondo, I don’t suppose you have anything in the way of cooking wine?” You asked, placing your new wears into your basket. Hondo grimaced with a shake of his head.

“'Fraid not, miss.” He sighed, looking out past his door towards the tavern. “But Miss Penny should have somethin’ for you to use.”

“Maverick’s wife?” You asked, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. Hondo nodded, a look if worry on his face.

“Penny runs the saloon here in town. Normally, I wouldn’t even suggest you go ‘round that place without someone accompanyin’ you, but everyone here knows not to mess with Miss Penny. You should be safe while she’s there.”

You handed Hondo the money you owed him, and gave him a grateful smile. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Just be careful who you talk to when you’re over there, ya hear?” He called after you as you moved to leave. “A lot of real unsavory types like to prey on pretty, littke things like you!”

“I will!” You called over your shoulder. You looked across the street to see the group of men from earlier had migrated down the porch over to, you assumed, their horses. Making sure they were safely distracted, you hurried your way across the road. Trotting up the steps, you made it to the door just as the group turned around to see you. Before they could say anything, however, you marched confidently into the saloon.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had thought, considering Hondo’s warning. The enterior looked a tad run down, but you supposed it had been in business for a while. It was clear that it was a beauty back in its debut. A piano was shoved against the far wall and several tables were scattered across the room with a few patrons nursing different liquids. A woman came out of a back room and spotted you. She was one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Dark hair framed a slender face, and bright eyes looked at you with a maternal warmth you hadn’t seen in quite a while.

“Hey there, sweetheart!” She called to you. “What is it that I can getcha?”

“Hi,” you smiled, walking closer to the counter where she leaned. You could feel the stares from the other patrons on your back, and you couldn’t help but stiffen.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” she started, casting a stern look across the room. “No one here’ll mess with you while I’m here. Name’s Penny.”

You held out your hand when you were close enough to the bar to reach her. “I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure.”

“You must be Benjamin’s sister. You two look so much alike, I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner,” she laughed, the lines on her face crinkling. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would look as beautiful as she did when you were her age. She took your hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“We get that quite a bit, actually,” you chuckled, dropping your hand back down to your side.

Penny’s smile grew wider. “So, how can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for some cooking wine. Hondo mentioned you might be able to help me find some.”

“Cooking wine, huh?” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. After a moment, she nodded, turning to head back into the back room. “Yeah, I think I just got some new bottles in, actually.”

You waited while she disappeared through the door. You heard the group of men outside on the porch, and it sounded like they had moved back towards the entrance. You let out a heavy sigh, realizing that you wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever. You took a closer look at the saloon. A set of stairs led up to a second floor that must double as an inn of sorts. Your brother had told you that's where he stayed while your home was being built.

“The townsfolk here are all kind as saints here, Scout,” he had written to you in one of his many letters. He hadn’t been wrong, well, save for one person. You frowned at the memory of the tall blond and his debonair smile. The outlaw probably wooed many girls with those good looks and charming words. You would not be fooled.

At that moment, Penny appeared back around the corner with two bottles of wine and another warm smile. You took the bottles from her gratefully, and slipped them into your basket.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, but Penny shakes her head.

“No charge,” she says. “Call it a ‘welcome to town’ gift.”

“Thank you,” you respond. You hear the group outside laugh, and you can’t stop the slight frown from etching itself onto your face. Penny notices, and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Those boys may be loud and rowdy,” she begins, “but they’re harmless. I promise. Just walk out of here with your head held high, and if they start to give you trouble, you call for me. I’ll knock their heads together.”

You nodded your head. You made your way back to the swinging doors, but stopped just shy. You willed your nerves to settle, and straightening your shoulders, you marched as confidently as you could out of the saloon.

The men were all gathered around the steps, and their conversation stopped when you stepped out. You could see them all more clearly now, and to your dismay, they were all unfairly handsome.

“Hey there again, darlin’,” grinned the man from before. He leaned in closer to you with grin. “Name’s Javy. What’s yours?”

“Coyote, you asshole,” snapped the man to his left. “Tell her our names, too!”

Javy—Coyote—rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch.

“These here are my compadres, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, and Reuben,” he said, gesturing to each man as he said their name. He turned back to you with a smirk. “Now what about yours?”

At that moment, the saloon doors swung open, and a familiar blond strolled out with a hard set look on his face. His eyes darted from the group of men before you down to yours, and his grumpy expression melted into a lascivious smirk.

“Did you get it?” Asked the man off to your right, Bradley. Jake spared him a glance before returning his eyes to you.

“‘Course I did, Rooster,” he replied, walking closer to you. You gripped your basket harder and fixed him with a glare. “Fancy seeing you here, Scout.”

Rooster? You realized now that the Dagger Posse is who stood before you, and you suddenly found yourself feeling weary.

“Mr. Seresin,” you replied curtly, turning his smirk into a full blown grin.

“C’mon now, Scout. I thought we decided you’d call me Jake?”

“I don’t recall that being how the conversation went,” you sniffed. Navy cleared his throat from where he stood from behind you. You both looked over to find him and the rest of the squad grinning. Well, Bradley was smirking. The others were grinning.

“Is this the little spitfire you were goin’ on and and on about last night, Hangman?” Bradley-Rooster-asked, humor evident in his voice. You glanced over at Jake who had a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. Ignoring his friends, he looked back at you, some of his bravado returning.

“Ignore my friends,” he said, smile returning. “They don't know when to shut up.”

You hummed, “I could say the same thing about you.”

You heard a couple of snickers from behind you, and Jake cast a glare over your shoulder. Looking back at you, he continued, “Now, sugar. That wasn’t very nice. I’ve been plenty nice to you.”

You let out a noise of derision. “You and I must have very different definitions of the word ‘nice,’ Mr. Seresin.”

“If you let me,” he smirked, leaning closer so that his breath fanned over your face. Your eyes widened and your heart stopped for a brief moment at his proximity. “I could show you all the ways I can be nice.”

You didn’t respond for a moment, lost in the emeralds of his eyes. Blinking, you murmured, “Not a chance.”

You turned to the group behind you, offering them a tight lipped smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you all.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the near future, sweetheart,” grinned Javy.

“Yes, well,” you smiled politely, “let’s hope not.”

You pushed past them and began making your way down the road. A hand gripped your elbow, spinning you back around so that you crashed into a solid chest of muscle. Looking up, stunned, you were once again in close proximity of Jake Seresin.

“Let me give you a ride home,” he offered, gesturing back at Whiskey. You shook your head, placing a hand on his chest to try and put some kind of barrier between the two of you. Jake took your hand in his, squeezing it tight.

“That's not necessary,” you breathed. “I live just down the road.”

“Then let me walk you,” he pushed.

“Down the street?” You snorted. Jake grinned, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“A lot could happen between now and when you get home.”

“Goodbye, Jake,” you said with a pointed look, pulling away from him. You tried not to frown at how cold you felt without his presence next to you. You turned to walk away.

“I’ll wear you down one day, sugar! You’ll be in love with me before you know it,” He calls after you. You stop in your tracks, whirling around to fix him with your iciest glare.

“I am not something to be conquered,” you hissed. Jake stared at you for a long minute, a different kind of smile creeped onto his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said this one was almost…affectionate.

“I don’t expect you to be,” he said finally, giving you a two finger salute. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Scout.”

#jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #top gun hangman #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman top gun #hangman x you #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #dhtn #mine

[thesimline]

It’s a dark and stormy October weekend, and the top crust of 1930s high society have gathered at the country manor of King Candy, a lauded and savvy business magnate. Alas, the high spirits of the weekend have been dashed - murder most foul, and this time it isn’t the butler who’s done it! In fact, he’s the unfortunate soul at the end of a gleaming gold dagger. Each suspect has their own clandestine motives, but which of their secrets was the sorry servant about to expose? The story continues under the cut…

URSULA

Once a highly regarded starlet of the theatrical stage, she longs for those bygone days of youth, beauty and fame. What depths would she be willing to plum in order to return to her glory?

Skin | Turban | Earrings (TSR) | Necklace | Dress | Robe | Gloves (Vampires) | Right Ring (TSR) | Right Bracelets (Fashion Street) | Left Ring (TSR) | Left Bracelets (My Wedding Stories) | Stockings (TSR) | Shoes

GASTON

As a professional trophy hunter this playboy has the wealth, looks and notoriety that makes the ladies swoon. Even more so once they hear his seductive french accent. But will his bad boy image transform into a more beastly reputation once his violent past is exposed?

Hat | Hair (TSR) | Outfit | Socks (Base Game) | Shoes

JAFAR

With the latest fad for exotic home decor all the rage, his dealing in antiquities has created quite a kingdom of wealth. It’s even whispered among social circles that he promises to bring your dreams to life, but is he really just a snake in gentleman’s clothing?

Turban | Moustache (Base Game) | Outfit | Ring (TSR) | Socks (Base Game) | Shoes (My Wedding Stories)

MALEFICENT

With her snooty attitude and thorny personality, this old money socialite puts most people at ill ease, but will the 16 year long grudge against her nemesis be her ultimate downfall?

Skin | Hat | Hair | Earrings (TSR) | Necklace | Top & Pants | Ring (TSR) | Shoes

KING CANDY

Purveyor of fine confections and even sweeter business alliances, he has all his fingers in the preverbal pie. His eye is forever looking over his shoulder wondering which will catch up with him first - his passion for racing automobiles or his turbulent, mysterious past.

Hair | Glasses (TSR) | Moustache (Base Game) | Top | Right Rings (TSR) | Left Ring (TSR) | Pants (retired) | Shoes (Get Famous)

CRUELLA DE VIL

Rumours abound that her materials may come from nefarious sources, although that doesn’t stop the lauded designer’s fashions from flying off the racks. But is there a scandal just around the corner that threatens to dog her reputation?

Skin | Hat | Hair (TSR) | Necklace | Outfit | Gloves | Ring (TSR) | Cigarette Holder | Stockings | Shoes

With thanks to some amazing creators: @lamatisse @sentate @its-adrienpastel @jius-sims @hezzasims @softerhaze @serenity-cc @nucrests @qicc @candysims4 @delis-sims @madlensims

#ts4 #ts4 cc #ts4 cc cas #the sims 4 #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #s4 cas #lookbook #1930s #1930s fashion #ts4 lookbook #s4 lookbook #sims 4 lookbook #1930s lookbook #halloween #ts4 halloween #ts4 historical #disney #decades lookbook #pop culture

[angrelysimpping]

if i made it in time to request… may i ask for LIs reacting to a super badass pc who constantly gets into fights and isn’t good at socializing but once around LI is super docile and soft like a lovesick puppy?

Contents: Alex, Avery, Eden, Kylar, Robin, Sydney, Whitney (they/them); Reader (you/your); mentions of public sex in Whitney's section; mentions of blood and fighting but nothing too explicit

Words: ~ 300 each

Alex

Does not realize for the longest time. 

They think you're just the sweetest. 

Always hanging around you on the farm, making sure nothing happens.  

Tosses a bail of hay at you cause they just can't help it. They wanna see you squirming and pinned, needing their help. 

But you surprise them, taking care of yourself. 

That doesn't tip Alex off, though. 

Not even when they catch you jumping the fence, taking a solid swing at that one pervert who likes to catcall Alex as they work, lets Alex in on how much of a scrapper you are. 

Why would it? 

You're always so sweet with them. Always making them tea, sitting in their lap, getting pinned under Alex's weight in bed. If that pervert pushed you to your limit, they must have really been out of line. 

Then come the raids. 

And Alex sees a pack of Remy’s goons scatter at the mere sight of you.

And they can see it. All at once, they understand. 

Maybe it's the way you stand, silhouetted against the security lights. Maybe it's the cock of your head or the twitch in your hand as they form into fists. 

And Alex falters. 

Have you been hiding this from them? The fact that, well, that you're not just some soft townie?

Those thoughts, fears, of you lying to them dissipate as the night winds down, and Remy's goons are sent packing. 

Before Alex even gets the chance to question you about it, you're tugging them into bed, curling into their side.

And the tightness in their chest relaxes, melting against you. 

So, you've still got a few surprises in you, huh? That's fine. You're still Alex's partner, and they're yours. 

Honestly, they never realize you’re bad at socializing. Standoffish while meeting their family? Yeah, that’s understandable. Have a hard time talking to customers on the farm? Well, that’s Alex’s job anyway. 

Avery  

Avery took a gamble on you, really.

You were just so nice to look at, would look so pretty on their arm at events.

And then the way you looked at them, all dopy-eyed. A lovesick pup ready to do anything Avery asked of you. Yeah, Avery can work with that. 

Of course, your shit social skills are a minus. A really big minus. But, as long as you cling to Avery’s arm and look good, gaze at them like they hang the stars in the sky, then they can live with you not being the best socialite in the world. 

They will try to get you into etiquette classes though, trying to make you even more valuable to them. 

They find out you get into fights quick, idling in their car near the school one afternoon only to see you getting into a fistfight with someone who tried to grope you.

On one hand, Avery’s pissed. The last thing they need is their name tied to some delinquent. Also, what with your apparent prowess in fighting, there’s little to no chance Avery can ever put you in your place if you step out of line. It makes their rage simmer under their skin, knowing they can’t physically push you around.

On the other hand, you stomp that groper into the ground and then climb into Avery’s car and give them that same adoring look you always do. It’s hard to stay mad at you when you look at them like that. It’s a little soothing, really, you looking so soft and submissive, full of adoration. You wouldn’t fight back against them if they got rough with you, would you? No, Avery doesn’t think so. 

Chides you, wiping away a stray droplet of blood, telling you not to get into too many fights. It could reflect negatively upon them, after all. 

Will get upset with you if you ever show up to one of their dates with the evidence of a recent fight, be it something as large as a broken limb or as small as a bruised cheek.

Eden

Honestly, this is Eden’s ideal. 

Cute house spouse who does whatever they want? Follows after Eden like a puppy following its master? What’s even better is that you’ve always been like this, submitting to Eden’s whims right from that first meeting. 

Perfect, perfect little pet for them.

You take on your role so readily, following their every order, it’s really like you were made for them.

Of course, nothing in Eden’s life can actually be perfect. You have to go back to town, back to school.

But then you trot back into the forest every afternoon and lay on Eden’s bed, eagerly waiting to fulfill your spousal duties. 

It’d be great if you weren’t late getting home one evening.

If Edne didn’t have to stalk into town, looking for you.

To find you, surrounded by a group of perverts. 

It makes Eden’s blood boil, makes them want to forbid you from ever stepping foot back into town. You’re their’s, Eden’s. You’re too soft for town, without their protection.

And then you kill those thoughts, sending the gang running all by yourself.

It’s a bit of a shock to Eden, really. Almost a betrayal. This whole time, you could fight Eden off if you wanted to. It’s one of the few things they feel confident in, their strength. You’re able to fight off a whole group on your own? Yeah, no, that gets under their skin. 

But then you light up at seeing them, wrap your arms around their waist and apologize for making them worry, for making them come into town looking for you. 

Their collar is still around your throat, their scent still clinging to your skin, and that quells Eden’s anger and paranoia.

Gruffly says something about going back to the cabin, jumping slightly when you take their large hand in yours as you walk with them back to the cabin, back home.

Might never find out that you’re bad at socializing, but boy do they love it. You’re bad at socializing? Good, stay in the forest where you don’t have to try to bullshit your way through social interactions. Can’t make any friends? Good, Eden is all you need, anyway. 

Kylar

Oh, nothing is a surprise to Kylar, not when it comes to you. 

Kylar knows you’re a badass, that you’re always getting into fights and winning. If they’re honest, it actually turns them on a little, seeing you bloody people who try to grope you, knowing that you can protect yourself. 

Sure, Kylar wants to protect you, but knowing you’ll get violent if some pervert tries to grope you? It sets butterflies off in their stomach. 

Double so if you ever swoop in to stop someone getting rough with Kylar. Seeing you defend them has them pressed against you, mumbling about going somewhere private.

Though, they also hate seeing you in fights at all. They don’t like that there's the potential of you getting hurt. 

As for socializing, they’re thrilled! They’re also bad at socializing! You’re just like them! Also, it means they won’t have to fight for your attention, will they? Or, at least not as much if you were a social butterfly.

And then they adore how you act around them. All sweet and soft and docile. A side only they get to see, right?

Really, Kylar is going to match your energy, two lovesick puppies following after each other. 

Ready to threaten anyone who comes near you, naturally, even if you can defend yourself. 

Robin

You’ve always been so sweet to Robin. All these years in the orphanage together, you’ve always been kind to them. 

Then, their feelings towards you start shifting, becoming more romantic. They’re nervous as hell leaving their confession for you to find but then you’re kissing them in their room and they know they made the right choice. 

They love it, they love having you by their side constantly, that you’re an endlessly sweet person in this screwed-up town. 

So, it comes as a massive shock when they see you deck Bailey.

Not only that, but you drive the caretaker off, refusing to pay the money the caretaker demands of all the of age orphans. 

Have you…have you been able to do stuff like this the whole time? Have you been doing stuff like this? Fighting people? 

Robin’s never been one to gossip, they never realized you were the subject of so many fights around the school. 

But, well, it makes sense now why you were always covered in scrapes and bruises. Why Robin had to act as your personal nurse every now and then. 

They wish you wouldn’t get into so many fights but, well, they can understand when it’s someone like Bailey or Whitney. 

Just promise them that you’ll always come to them if you get hurt, alright?

Picks up on how bad you are at socializing and just rolls with it. They won’t ask you to do anything outside your comfort zone if you’re helping them with their drink stalls. They don’t mind that you’re bad at talking to other people, they find it kinda cute, actually. You’re all badass and great at fighting but then you trip over your own words and look at them like a lost puppy. They love it, they love you.

Sydney

Sydney has heard a few things about you.

They’re no gossip, but students talk far too loudly in the library. Even after Sydney tells them to quiet down, they still hear about how you wiped the floor with someone who tried to sneak a hand down your pants in the hall or sent someone to the nurse because they groped your chest.

On one hand, they don’t think violence is the answer, but, well, they can kind of understand when it comes to perverts trying to assault you.

They also hear things from Sirris, stories about having to give you detention for fighting with classmates during lectures.

That they don’t understand. It never occurs to them that you might be defending yourself in those cases as well, not until after they’ve met you at least. 

Your poor socialization skills are, well, it’s not completely lost on Sydney how bad you are at socializing. It’s just, they’re not great at socializing with their peers either. They don’t have many friends their own age thanks to their temple vows and being a teacher’s kid. So, it doesn’t really bother them. It’s actually a little endearing, your awkwardness. Makes them feel a little more comfortable around you, actually.

Then, when you’re actually in a relationship together? When you follow after them, lovestruck and puppy-like? They love it. Makes their heart all fluttery.

The more corrupt they are, the more they encourage you to fight anyone who tries to touch you. The purer they are, the more they wish for you to forgive them and move on.

Whitney

This is also Whitney’s ideal. 

Cute slut who does whatever they want and follows after them like the bitch they are. Yeah, that’s exactly what Whitney wants. 

Being shit at talking to people and making friends is a bonus. No one to try to get you to see the light and leave them, no one for you to hang out with except for them. They love it. 

Bullies you for it, of course, but they love it. They can have you all to themself and not have to worry about shit, it’s great.

When they find out that you’re a badass? That you could take them in a fight easily but choose not to? Ego boost.

Yeah, you just sent a group of full-grown adults running, you probably even sent one of them to the hospital. Then, Whitney gives you a look and you’re on your knees in an instant. How could they not feel like a fucking god when you’re doing shit like that?

They become insufferable after finding out you’d fight anyone and probably win. Especially if they can use it to their own advantage.

Also loves having you do something badass only to dom you after. There’s someone else’s blood on your face and you’re on your knees, looking up at them, ready to give them head. It becomes one of their favorite things in the world.

#alex the farmhand #avery the businessperson #eden the hunter #kylar the loner #robin the orphan #sydney the faithful #whitney the bully #degrees of lewdity

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Divus Crewel | Who's Your Daddy?

You weren’t inherently thrilled to hear through the grapevine that your mother had found a new lover. While you no longer feared the fantasy of the ‘evil partner’ you did fear the ‘here I am speech.’ With every new romantic partner each of them would catch you alone to either awkwardly declare their new mission to be your parent or that they were going to rob you of all your money; whatever was said though was shortly followed by them being dumped, reputation ruined, and a restraining order put in place. For as much as your mother got around you could never doubt her love for you. With every suitor she waited for them to slip up whether it was to you or to hired staff; she played no games. Keeping her suitors as nothing more than that to you and her staff claiming it would change if things got more serious.  So you were more than surprised when you weren’t being greeted with an untitled partner.

“Meet your new step-father, Divus Crewel!” 

What?! Step-father?! Already?!

You kept it cordial, briefly greeting him with a smile before hightailing it to your room. It won’t matter soon, anyway. You were moving out. Not because of your mother or this Cruel-dude but because you were tired of relying on other’s dime. All your life you’ve been gifted with a grand lifestyle that had you working early and living lavishly but coming into adulthood you realized the thing you really wanted was to work for you. All your life you’d played assistant CFO on top of school work, being a fake socialite, and business princess. It was all just too much. You had been saving preparing for this. You knew it wouldn't be easy but you also knew that that was what made it worth it in the end. You didn’t want to say anything until you were moved out in case your mother pulled some crazy stunt to keep you in place. Turns out that wasn’t the only one you had to worry about.

“Where are you going pup?”

Smoking on a pipe lounging in the velvet arm-chair your mother often perched herself in, Divus was looking up, accusatory, from his evening paper. 

“Out.”

You didn’t elaborate because you didn’t need to. This is just some guy swinging by trying to flex his father-bone so he can get on your mom’s will. You left before there was any protest, leaving to finalize your lease and officially be free. 

Half your stuff was moved and with your final moving driver on their way to your new home, you elected now would be the time to tell her. She would be resting by now possibly reading in her study. You opened the grand mahogany doors with a rising power, you were ready to fight for your right to work, your right for autonomy.

“Mom, you in here?”

It seemed so as her favorite plume was left on the desk and her shoes near the door. In her giant chair turned to look at the glass she had installed around it. She must have fallen asleep, you rationalize, comforted by the warm encasing rays of the sun. You walked to turn her around before waking her to find that she isn’t there. 

Nothing is there. 

It's then you realize that there is a draft coming in. 

But this room has no windows, just the glass pane wrapped around the hull of the room.  

There was a human sized hole in it. 

Bloodied and messy you shakily move to lookpast the glass to ground below.

There she is. 

Laying flat amongst the garden contrasting the green with her deathly crimson splatter.

_______

You were distraught. Devastated. That much was clear to anyone who saw you at the funeral. In the end you could not seem to let go of that golden crusted coffin clutching onto it like it was your life line. Even fellow nobility who typically would scoff at such displays of emotion couldn’t deny their own pity, as you were pried away by a fellow in black and white. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop crying even as the ceremony ended and you were carted back to your mother’s estate. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave, plagued by guilt and longing. You couldn’t pull yourself together until it came time to settle affairs. Now you weren’t in any of this for the money but you knew you would hate yourself even more if you let what inkling of your mother was left die out because of your inactivity. Alas one thing you found you must have gotten from your mother was your workaholic behavior; by diving into technical matters you could free yourself of the pain (at least for a little while).

“As it stands all of your mother’s affairs as aforementioned in the newly written will state that all her effects belong to her legal husband: Divus Crewel.”

How could this happen? How in your pursuit of freedom had you allowed her to sign everything over to some guy she was sleeping with? AND MARRIED TOO! You knew your mother best and even when you were sure she was off her rocker she always had the sense to care for you first, second if it was about her dogs. He must have orchestrated it. It all made sense. How in the span of six months had this man taken your mother from you in every sense of the word before the final month was up. Simple. He killed her.  But with no proof other than a motive you were left to depart back to your personally bought hovel where you had to live knowing your fight for freedom was what left you mother for dead and anyhting you could remember her by in the hands of a stranger.

“(Y/n), where are you going?”

The nerve. “If you must know I’m going home.” You cocked your head and opened your arms in emphasis as you walked away from him entering his security detail limousine. You were walking to take a bus or at the least you were trying as the limousine and surrounding security cars not-so-subtley followed. Stopping, you were near tears with frustration.

“What do you want from me?! Don’t you have everything you already want?!”

The tinted window rolled down to reveal Crewel wearing shades and a scowl of disagreement. 

“Oh young pup, I don't have what I want at all.” 

In lightning speed the door swung open and you were pulled into the lap of your step father. Being held in place by his steel grip on your jaw you sat on his lap like a confused child as he forcefully told the driver to, “Drive.”

He held you that way the whole ride adjusting you only when you ever seemed to shimmy off his lap from your struggling. Finally arriving home he switched tactics, pulling out a dalmationed patterned handkerchief and stuffing it in your mouth effectively gagging you. Before you had time to register to undo what he did he pulled out two collars locking your knees and wrists together. 

Unable to move, Crewel had no trouble carrying you out of the vehicle through the mansion to what used to be your mother’s lonesome master bedroom. Now it was the bedroom version of Crewel’s whole aesthetic. Tossed on the bed, you were scared watching him remove his fur coat, call in his dalmations, and remove one of his gloves. Jerked to lay over his knees as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Now (Y/n) I’m sure you’re…disappointed with your mother’s slip up but as my child I will not have you fraternizing with your delusions of freedom.”

You tried to scream and yell at him. Who was he to tell you anything! And Disappointed?! You wanted to sock him in that pretty face of his. 

He seemed to get the sentiment squinting his eyes in a challenged haze before exposing your butt to the open air. You weren’t an idiot despite what online quizes would suggest you knew what this position meant to toddlers and people in ddlg fantasies. You did not want to be spanked! So when he raised his exposed hand you curled into him hoping he’d take your silent plea. He stopped as if hearing the constant begging you were doing mentally and insted let his hand prance around your lower back in warning.

“Despite your ‘secret’ plot for freedom succeeding I would have put a stop to it anyway seeing as it is what your mother wanted me to do in the first place.”

You made a questioning noise. What was he talking about?

“When she came to me with her worries about her adult child finally leaving I applauded her. Told her it was healthy and gave my full support but in another rant of hers I realized you had been working for her. All your time and childhood spent working away to please her, keep her afloat with a business you have no part in.

He played with your hair while he spoke. Softly rubbing your back as if he…cared?

“And in mild interest I proposed I step in as someone you could rely on to set boundaries of course mostly for her but nonetheless she took this as me wanting to…be in a relationship with her.”

He shivered with disgust making an icky feeling in your chest grow. It never is black and white is it.

“So we married in private claiming something about how ‘if I was this dedicated already surely I was ready for the real deal.’ I would have refused if I wasn’t already intrigued. You’d be surprised as to how much I can tell about you from camera footage and personal investigators.”

This time it was your turn to shudder but the present hold of a hand sitting on your head made you still.

“She had grand plans to get publicly married a month later but I realized that wouldn’t be needed. Just by your behavior I could tell all you wanted was rebellion, a break from the character you had been held to-” Ok maybe he understood you a lit- “like a child.” What. 

“I see it in my students often, you just want to have time to play without the responsibility of an adult, without the neglectful bearing of your mother. So I made an executive decision to eliminate the one that made you feel that way. Don’t look at me like that. No matter how old you are, you're quite the child to me and as your guardian I elect that you will not be burdened by adulting for as long as I’m here.”

He laid you on the bed dawning his fur coat once again.

“My pup, it's my duty as your father to care for your every need, including discipline.” He flicked your nose for emphasis with a chuckle and flip of his wrist his dalmations attacked you with kisses before fleeing from the room. 

“By the time I’m done dear we’ll have figured out how to even out that playtime and discipline.”

____________

By the time I was let out of that room again all my stuff I had previously moved out was moved into our shared room. Many other things had changed as well. The giant velvet chair that had been mother’s was now black and white accented by a blood red.  The office your mother had was closed off under the pretense that all those that were eliminated for the sake of my ’childhood.’ 

Other things had changed as well. 

Reaching for the door I could hear father’s steps and the clinking collars of his dalmations. I guessed he was sitting in his favorite chair blowing his pipe. 

“Where are you going, pup?”

So much had changed.

You doubt she would recognize you.

“To the garden, father. I know not to leave the grounds where I’m safe.”

Divus Crewel smiled. “Good girl. Don’t forget your running shoes.”

“Yes, father.”

“And a kiss for Papa?”

You hesitated if only for a second before trotting over to give a peck to his pale cheek before scampering off to get your shoes.

“That’s my girl.”

#yanderes #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #yandere #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere x darling #yandere father #divus crewel #yandere divus crewel #yandere twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere stepfather

[theepisceswriter]

JJK characters comforting a stressed out/overworked significant other ( Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Mei Mei)

TW: none really apply, GN!reader, headcanon format

GOJO SATORU

He's QUICK to notice the signs when you're under distress, any slight change in your mood and he's on the case like Olivia Benson.

It's during times like these that he really clings to you and is an attentive partner because he's seen what the weight of stress can do to people close to him and he REFUSES to let them succumb to it if there's anything he can do to stop it.

He becomes so soft and vulnerable with you the moment he notices your eyes are a little too bloodshot

"What's wrong baby? Do you want to talk about it? We can lay down if you'd like."

He turns into your therapist for the day and purposefully clears his schedule for the day so you can rant to him for as long or as little as you'd like. You can take it all the way back to drama from grade school if you wanted to and he'd listen genuinely to try and come up with solutions for you.

Did I mention all of this is happening while you're laying on his chest and he's stroking your hair? V U L N E R A B L E !

The moment the source of your stress is identified don't even worry about it anymore, he's most definitely going to take care of it and you.

Oh and he's going to throw you a stress-free themed party with the jjk kids that seems so silly but actually helped all of you in the long run.

NANAMI KENTO

Nanami is a stressed out and overworked man in general so you would do your best to hide the fact that you’re stressed out to not add on to his stress, but Nanami isn’t falling for any of that “I’m okay, I swear (:” nonsense when it comes to you. He recognizes those bags underneath your eyes all too well. Not to mention that he can hear you typing away on your laptop and shifting around in bed checking your email at god forbidden hours of the night when you should be sleeping.

He moves in silence for real unlike the people who post those quotes on their IG stories, so you most likely wouldn't even notice that he knows how stressed and overworked you are. You should absolutely know better than to think you're tricking him, when this man gets partners he STUDIES them to a T!

You'll just come home from work and he'll have dinner already made for you along with special pastries that he prepared himself and a night of self-care prepped for you to complete; he's big on acts of service as a love language.

"But Nanami I have wo-" "You didn't ha-" AHT! He's not hearing that, he'll just gaze at you and then motion to the table with his head. You have no choice, this man is going to make sure you're stress-free for certain by the end of the night.

And yes, you are going to get a lecture on the importance of mental health and self care and no you cannot tell him about himself.

MEI MEI

“Darling, why do you work yourself so hard when I can just take care of us?”

Mei Mei is a sugar momma and you can’t convince me otherwise. Half of that money she finesses out of others? Yeah, it’s going towards you and your expenses.

The first sign of distress and she’s sending gifts to your house that she knows will cheer you up. New shoes, a couple of new expensive outfits, some roses, etc, etc.

I also feel like she's a master baecation planner too, so don't be surprised when she sends you that "pack your bags" text at 8pm and the next thing you know you're in Aspen skiing with socialites.

Though, depending on how much she likes you and values you this could be a good or bad thing. If she's not really vibing you like that but thinks you're cute enough to keep around then she's doing all of this just to get you to shut up about ranting to her.

"Stress is just a mindset and one that causes wrinkles so knock that off."

BUT, if she reaaaaallllyy likes you then these are genuinely just the perks that come with having Mei Mei as a girlfriend. Best believe she'll find a moment in the midst of spoiling you when you two are alone to get to the bottom of your stress and help you figure it out.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

He don't give a FAWK what you got going on baby !

I'm just playing yall, he cares but because he's emotionally unavailable its very hard to tell that he cares sometimes.

Hit him with a "I've just been so stressed lately" and he'll hit you with a "So stop stressing 😐" he means well I promise.

It's when he sees it take a toll on your mental health that he gets concerned, or as concerned as someone like Toji can be. Once he notices the fatigue, lack of eating, and dark eye circles his protection instincts kick in. As someone who's traveled into the deepest and darkest parts of his mind, the last thing he wants is for someone he cares about to end up in a place like that because he knows how it feels.

Just like Mei Mei, his acts of service and the amount of support he gives you depends on how far along and serious you two are as a couple.

If you're casual he'll just give you verbal reminders like; "Don't you think you need a break?" "Go eat you look like a witch" "I would suggest a nap to help with those dark circles." He's apart of that sassy man apocalypse we're.

BUT, if you two are locked in then he'll go out his way a lot more to make sure you're comfortable like buying you comfort food, watching a movie or two with you, and fucking to keep your mind off of it.

He'll physically take your work laptop away from you and put it on a high shelf purposefully so you won't be able to reach it. Your job keeps calling you in on your off days? He'll pickup the phone next time and let them know the Toji way why you can't come in. Boss irritating you over a project? Don't let toji see him in person or get ahold of any office numbers!

#this is such a weird combination of characters but baby I had to get this out my drafts #this been in my drafts for two years LMAOOOOO #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #kugisaki nobara x reader #mei mei x reader #toji fushiguro x reader

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Cherry headcanons because this girl deserves some love

-Spacey as fuck. Like, this girl lives with her head in the clouds and Marcia and her other friends have just learned to accept it

-High ponytail girly

-Her hands are always FREEZING, even in the summer

-Her mom is chronically ill and often bedridden so Cherry has to spend lot of time looking after her while also looking after her dad (and her older brother whenever he’s home from uni)

-Loves Marcia so much because she’s proven time and time again that she’s a true friend unlike her other soc friends who are very much fair weather friends 

-Got so drunk on mimosas once that she spent the rest of the weekend in bed and viciously hungover

-Worries about Marcia because Marcia is wild and too smart for her own good and Cherry is scared that one of these days she’s just gonna snap and either disappear or do something terrible

-Loves board games but has to trick/bribe/guilt her friends into playing them with her. Her favourite is The Game of Life

-Used to get in trouble a LOT when she was little because she really wanted to get her dad’s attention, but kind of gave up by the time she was in seventh grade because she realised it was futile, and has been a model student ever since

-Is kind of horribly lonely. Between her mom’s illness, her dad’s emotional unavailability, and the fact that her brother (three years older than her and her best friend) is in uni across the country she’s by herself a lot and has to deal with everything alone. Part of the reason she started dating Bob is because he actually gave her attention and she felt like she was actually being listened to for once.

-Was drawn to Ponyboy because even though he had such a loving community around him she could see in him the same sort of loneliness she feels all the time

-Marcia hates Bob and does not try very hard to hide that fact, which stresses Cherry out because ANY kind of conflict stresses her out (she canonically ‘hates fights’ but to me she just comes off as someone who doesn’t know how to handle conflict AT ALL)

-Wants to be a kindergarten teacher when she grows up, but doesn’t want to tell her parents because they expect her to marry well and be a socialite

-Kind of loves hearing about any and all drama her friends- Marcia in particular- are going through because it gives her something to focus on that isn’t her own problems

-Could tell Marcia liked Two-bit a lot more than she ever liked Randy but didn’t bring it up because she knew it wasn’t fair when Marcia would never be allowed to date a greaser

-Loves chocolate chip cookies

-Rarely ever wears lipstick because she claims she can feel the weight of it on her lips. Marcia laughs at her for it but also carries tinted lip balm and lipgloss around just for her (Marcia never leaves the house without lipstick on)

-Speaks fluent French

-Went to Paris on vacation with her family once and has been dying to go back ever since

-LOVES her sting ray so much. Even though her dad isn’t very attentive he still managed to pick the perfect car for her and Cherry loves it more than anything

-Doesn’t like any perfume except a very faint rose scent because anything stronger makes her feel nauseous

-Has an eccentric aunt who lives with her female ‘roommate’ in a huge, airy apartment in Italy, and Cherry spends at least a week each summer there with them. 

#cherry valance #marcia the outsiders #marcia x two bit #bob sheldon #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #two bit mathews #randy the outsiders #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #dally winston #steve randle

[elizabethemerald]

Gala Daze DPxDC

AO3

“What a great idea Vladdie!” 

“I don’t know Jack…” 

“Oh I assure you, my dear Maddie that Daniel will be perfectly safe with me. I won’t let him out of my sight for a moment.” 

“Come on Maddie, it would be a perfect opportunity for our Danno to bump elbows with some rich bigwigs!” 

“Well maybe he can talk to them about getting some funding for ghost extermination. Very well Vlad. You can take Danny to Gotham.”

Danny was disassociating. While not entirely a new state of being, a dissociative episode had never lasted this long for him. He had been fully checked out from his body ever since the flight from Amity Park to Gotham. He had been thinking about turning intangible and just letting the plane fly through him so he could go home, when Vlad had leaned over to him to whisper in his ear. Vlad said if Danny stepped even one toe out of line, or did anything to embarrass him, Vlad would overshadow as many people as it took to ensure that Jazz was turned down by every college she applied to. He would ruin her entire future if Danny did even one thing wrong. 

Danny had started disassociating after that. 

His parents had done a lot to hurt him and Jazz. Usually the harm the elder Fentons did to their children was either accidental or unknowing. Like when Jazz was sick for days after the Thanksgiving dinner where Dad tried to fry the turkey in ectoplasm or like when they shot Danny when he was out as Phantom. 

However this time there was no excuse for them hurting their kids. If they ever listened to their children they would know that Danny hated Vlad and Jazz didn’t trust him. The kids had said over and over again for years that they didn’t like Vlad, but no! Uncle Vladdie could do no wrong! Danny and Jazz were just making things up for attention. 

Ancients, Danny hoped that he could keep his nose clean for the trip, he didn’t want to be responsible for Jazz having to give up her dreams of getting into an Ivy League school. He had lost huge swaths of time. He barely remembered leaving the airport and the next time he was cognizant they were heading to the gala in the tailored suits Vlad had ordered. 

Fortunately Vlad loved nothing more than the sound of his own voice, not even Danny or his mom. So he was more than happy to talk to the people around them about Danny and any time someone asked Danny a question he would be the one to answer instead. Vlad kept his hand either on Danny’s shoulder or on the back of his neck at all times so he couldn’t even slip away. 

Now he was talking to some rich fruitloop who kept trying to engage Danny in conversation. Brucie? Wait? Bruce Wayne? Yeah the guy was rich but why would Vlad go out of his way to introduce Danny to this airhead? 

“Well, yes, my son Damian does have many interests, but I can’t say that any of them have to do with NASA's latest satellite.” Mr. Wayne was saying in response to something Vlad had said. Ah. That made sense. Vlad wanted to brag, shove his superiority into Mr. Wayne’s face. Brucie turned to address Danny. “Tell me Daniel, what do you know about NASA's deep space satellite?”

“Uh, I prefer Danny actually, Mr. Wayne.” Danny said. Mr. Wayne’s eyebrows rose marginally considering those were his first words during this conversation. “And I-”

“Yes, Daniel really is attached to that childish nickname, isn’t he?” Vlad spoke up again. “Really Brucie, you would think children would grow up at some point. We should discuss this more over a game of golf next week…”

Danny let Vlad’s words wash over him again. The worst thing about Vlad was he really knew how to push Danny’s buttons. Of course he would bring up the new satellite only to show off to his rich rival, then not even let Danny talk about it. And then insulting him for his name! Prick!

He tried to avoid looking at Brucie’s concerned face. Obviously he was a socialite and knew all about the proper behavior for galas, and Vlad probably wasn’t meeting those social rules. There was a small part of Danny’s chaos-gremlin brain that wanted to say something seemingly innocuous but super sus if you thought about it. Nothing would make Danny happier than getting Vlad investigated for something stupid like tax fraud, but he couldn’t risk Jazz’s career just for spite. Or gremlin urges. 

Vlad moved his hand from Danny’s shoulder down to his lower back. Danny did everything he could to keep the snarl he wanted to make at that action from coming out. He still couldn’t help the full body shudder that shook his frame for a fraction of a second. Vlad shot him a look filled with malice and promised pain so Danny reigned himself back in and put his attention firmly on the floor in front of him. 

Danny clenched his fists, driving his nails into his own palms. He was sure he was bleeding, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t do anything. He hated feeling powerless. You would think that after the portal accident and him gaining actual real powers the feeling would be far more rare, except it happens far too often and he hated it. His hands were shaking with rage and suppressed desire to punch Vlad right in his smug, manipulative, fruit-loop face. 

He chanced a glance up just in time to see a girl melt out of the shadows near the wall. If he didn’t know better he would say she was a ghost with how easily she was able to appear. But she definitely wasn’t a ghost. Perhaps a touch liminal, but not a ghost. And she was watching him. 

Danny tilted his head slightly to get a better look at her and she tilted her head to match. Her eyes flicked to the two adults for only a fraction of a second to confirm they were still engaged in whatever conversation they were having, then her hand came up and she signed for letters in what Danny recognized as ASL. 

“R U O K.” 

She merely looked the question at him. He risked a peak at Vlad, but he was focused on trying to strong arm Brucie into meeting for a golf match and some private drinks. Other than his thumb rubbing circles into the small of Danny’s back he wasn’t paying any attention to him. Danny looked back at the girl who was watching him intently. He gave the smallest shake of his head he could, hoping that Vlad wouldn’t notice. The girl nodded and slipped effortlessly back into the shadows, all but disappearing from view. 

Several more minutes went by of mindless conversation with Mr. Wayne seemingly had given up on trying to get Danny to answer questions. He let his mind drift again to his beloved stars as he began naming the stars in biggest constellations visible in the night sky. 

For a while Danny thought that nothing would come of the mystery girl who had checked on him, until a crash echoed across the hall from the entrance of the gala hall. Vlad finally released Danny’s shoulder to whirl to face the noise. Then to his surprise, Mr. Wayne turned as well to put himself in between Danny and the crash, effectively hiding him from Vlad. At first he thought that was just serial adopter Brucie Wayne’s first gut instinct in a crisis, putting his body between a threat and the nearest black haired kid. 

However, immediately after Mr. Wayne stepped in front of him, two kids appeared out of the crowd, grabbed Danny’s shoulders and started to drag him away. He recognized the asian girl who had signed to him, and the other was, even more surprisingly, Damian Freaking Wayne! That meant that the other girl must be Cassandra Wayne! Sam had made sure Danny knew all the Waynes before the topic of the gala had even come up. Apparently the Waynes were the only people who made the events her parents dragged her to worth it. 

Damian and Cassandra maneuvered through the crowd so effortlessly Danny had to take a moment to check if they were using intangibility. The trio weaved through as the noise behind them got even louder until they pulled him into a back room of the hall where a very tired looking Timothy Drake-Wayne was already there on his laptop. He looked up at Danny in confusion for a second before returning his attention to the computer in front of him. 

“Don’t worry, that noise was just the chandelier in the entrance hall falling. Apparently it couldn’t take Dick’s weight.” Timothy, actual real CEO of Wayne enterprises said. Tucker would be losing his mind right now. 

Cassandra settled Danny into a chair while Damian marched up to Timothy. Danny could finally take a moment to look properly at the Waynes. All three of them wore elegant, likely name brand suits. Timothy was wearing a plain white shirt under his suit jacket while Cassandra and Damian wore black on black suits, though Damian’s did have some green highlights at the lapels and pockets. Timothy looked like his eye bags had eye bags, which Danny could relate to. 

“Father ordered you not to work for the night of the Gala.” Damian snapped. When Timothy didn’t dignify that with a response the youngest Wayne turned back to face Danny. “Vladimir Masters escorted you to the gala tonight.” 

Danny couldn’t help but snort. 

“What a polite way of phrasing that.” He said with a dark chuckle. 

“Would it be more accurate to call you his hostage?” Timothy asked from his chair, where he was still focusing on his computer screen and whatever it was he was working on. 

That brought Danny up short. He tried to stutter out a denial, but Damian quickly spoke over him. 

“Has he hurt you? Threatened you or someone you care about?” Damian demanded. 

“N-no!  He would never lay a finger on me!” Danny was quick to say, trying to project as much confidence as possible. Cassandra moved her flat hand in line across her face. Damian glanced at her and his eyes narrowed at Danny. 

“You don’t have to lie to protect him. We can protect you, our family has resources.” 

Danny shook his head over and over again. 

“I can’t talk about it. I can’t talk about it. I can’t talk about it.” He had to repeat himself, the phrase trapping themselves in his mind as he kept saying it over and over again. 

If he told them what Vlad had done to him, Vlad would ruin Jazz’s entire life. He already regularly tried to kill his father, but there was no telling what he would do to Jazz. Danny couldn’t tell them about being thrown into walls during his fights with Plasimus, or the clones Danny had watched melt in his arms under Vlad’s uncaring eye. He almost jumped out of his skin when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. 

While he was panicking, Damian had withdrawn, visibly uncertain about how best to approach him. Cassandra and Timothy had come closer, Cassandra had her hand on his shoulder providing a calm, steadying presence. Timothy had closed his laptop and scooted forward his attention now fully on Danny. He made some motion to the others that seemed to symbolize that he was going to be taking point. 

“You’re not from Gotham originally, is that right?” When Danny nodded he continued. “We have some heroes here in Gotham. Believe it or not, we Waynes get kidnapped a lot, get rescued a lot. We know some of the Bats, they could help you.” 

Danny was already shaking his head again. 

“No, no no! That’s even worse. The worst thing that can happen if you Waynes help me is Brucie gives Vlad WE for pennies on the dollar and Vlad gets even richer. But if you get Batman involved, then he could have a man inside the JL. He could turn them against the people, use them as a tool to take over whatever he wants. He could overthrow the Ghost King…”

Now Danny was really panicking. He had muttered the last bit, terror carving its way through him. It would be like the absolute worst of the fight with Pariah Dark and Dan all over again. Danny would have to fight, and maybe kill the Justice League to stop him. If he won, he would have to eradicate Earth’s heroes, and if he lost Vlad would become King of the Infinite Realms. 

“You are talking about mind control.” Damian said, his eyes wide.

“No! Not mind control. Overshadowing. Humans call it possession.” Danny was rambling now. Desperately trying to convince these silly rich people not to get involved. Danny was a lost cause, he couldn’t be helped. All he could do was keep his head down long enough for Jazz to get into her college of choice. The Waynes glanced at each other nervously for a moment and Damian pulled his phone from his pocket. 

“I think I need to make a call.” 

Danny snapped his head up, his attention on the far wall as his breath came out in a foggy puff, like he had just walked into a freezer. He didn't know it but his eyes were blazing green at that moment. 

“It’s too late now.” 

The Waynes all step back or slouch against their chairs. Only a second later the door to their room snaps open, Vlad furious, his once spotless suit now covered in red wine and assorted finger foods. His eyes burned red with rage as he locked onto Danny. Timothy immediately stood to his feet. 

“Ah, Mr. Masters.” Vlad pulled himself back from his rage with difficulty to acknowledge the young CEO. “We were just coming out to look for you. Your ward was grabbed by our security team. Small case of mistaken identity. It's standard procedure during these sorts of events to get my brothers and sister to safety in the event of another terrorist attack. Or worse a Joker attack. Thankfully it seems everything is under control. You may take your charge now.” 

Timothy brushed past Vlad without another comment. Damian glared at him, but he glared at everyone, while Cassandra just stared at Vlad, unblinking, like some kind of demonic cat. Her complete lack of reaction obviously weirded Vlad out even more than Damian’s aggression. 

“Oh I’ll do that.” He grabbed Danny’s arm hard enough to bruise. “Come Daniel. We’re leaving.” 

Danny turned away from the Waynes as he was dragged out the door. He didn’t want to face their pity. At least he did a good enough job convincing them that they can’t help him. Now he just had to last long enough to get back home again. He let himself checkout, ignoring Vlad’s crushing grip on his arm as he dragged from the gala and back to the hotel. 

When Danny next checked in with his body it was to Vlad screaming in his face and burning pain in his body. In Vlad’s furious race out of the Gala after his humiliation he had pulled Danny’s arm out of his socket. And to emphasize his points Vlad would hit him with ecto fire, each hit destroying more of his once nice suit and leaving burns on his body. 

“You think you can just toy with me in front of these richest elite? I will make your life hell! I will make your sister’s life hell! She’ll be lucky to make a living on the street corners of a shit hole like this!” He gestured out to the window, which Danny belatedly realized was open. “I just don’t understand why you make me do this to you, Daniel. Little Badger, you are forcing my hand and I-”

He shrieked as a batarang whipped from the open window. The lights in the hotel room flickered for a second and Batman, Robin and Orphan were standing in the room when the lights returned. Vlad turned to them, furious that they would interrupt. 

“Vladimir Masters. We have some questions for you.” Batman growled. 

“No! I think you’ll find Batman, that I have some questions for you!” Vlad’s eyes flared red. Danny tried to stop him but he was backhanded away

Vlad floated into the air as his ghost transformation rolled over his body. He reached out to grab Batman but before he could several things happened at once. First and most shockingly, Robin drew a katana and cut off Plasmius’ hand at the wrist. Then several voices shouted out at once.

“Azarath Metrion Zinthos!”

“Dnib siht tirips ot sti ydob!” 

“Puer iste spiritus maxime!”

Chains of gold, purple and blazing fire wrapped around Plasmius again and again. The chains dragged him down to the ground even as he snarled and swore at them. A man in a trench coat, a woman in a long black cloak and an actual stage magician appeared in the room, magic sparking at their fingertips. Cassandra had bypassed the battle completely to come to Danny's side, though she did still have her weapons in her hands. Batman turned to address him, ignoring Vlad’s continued vitriol in the middle of the arcane trap. 

“You’re safe now Danny. You don’t have to worry about him hurting you ever again. This I swear.” Batman said, his voice just as serious as it ever was, and for the first time in his life, Danny felt like he could actually believe it when someone told him he was safe. He collapsed to his knees, shuddering sobs shaking his body. He was safe, Jazz was safe from Vlad’s machinations. Maybe this nightmare could finally be over. 

#dp x dc #danny fenton #bruce wayne #vlad masters #vlad is a creepy pos #as per usual #cassandra cain

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I don’t understand Mary siding with Fred, still associating with him etc. and going on countless vacations since January this year when she’s supposed to be Queen consort and a person who is able to be regent when the monarch is away - it’s as if she’s stupid, so unable to be self aware or just anything as why put up with a philander who disrespects their marriage, embarrasses their children and mocks their religion and disregards their nation? Even if she’s so power hungry to be Queen consort then why isn’t she pulling her weight and she not acting as regent as it seems like she’s just as at fault as Fred is and not fit to be Queen consort as he is unfit to be king regent. I mean looking at how lazy their kids are and how none of the four do anything other than basic socialite shit… I say put Margarethe back on the throne and pass on Fred & his kids but also Joachim & his kids and either find a new heir who has Denmark as their priority and respects their spouse etc. or just become a republic!

Maybe Mary really does love Fred.

Maybe Mary is prioritizing stability for what remaining childhood her children have.

Maybe Mary and Fred have a deal.

Maybe look at why you’re so angry to condemn Mary while ignoring Fred’s worse behavior. Fred is the actual monarch. These are his responsibilities. Why do you care more about what his wife, his consort, is doing than him not stepping up?

#ask #danish royal family

[checkitoutmikey]

The lost boys headcannon: THE wheelchair

- David likes his chair, it brings him comfort, the familiarity of it is soothing and brings back memories of him and Marko, back when they both could still feel the sun on their skin without bursting into flames

- our little vampire dictator was born in the late 1800 as the only son of a very rich, respectable man

- unfortunately, his life wasn’t easy from the start because he was born with spine deformity

- as a child he learned how to walk with much difficulty and as the time passed, his health worsened and as he got into his teenage years he had to get a wheelchair (yes THAT wheelchair)

- David’s mother was from old money, she was a beautiful woman, a socialite who cared more about traveling the world and having fun with her many liasons than taking care of her own son, there were times when the two hadn’t seen each other for months

- David’s father was always distant and he didn’t pay much attention to him, only sending money and making sure his son is alive and has servants to help him

- when it became clear David’s condition isn’t going to get better, he sent the boy to a hotel one of his acquaintances just opened

- David was there to stay indefinitely, surrounded by staff, destined to go mad from boredom

- the staff was attentive but at the end of the day they were just doing their job so it was hard for the boy to make human connections with any of them

- he only had books – oh so many books – to occupy him and not much else, sure he was sometimes wheeled out to soak up the sun but even that became much despised activity because David hated how he needed other people to help him out with such mandane activity

- one day he was in his room, reading as always, when he heard his door open and his life changed forever

- Marko was just snooping around, trying to find some valuables, snatching trinkets from the rich folk

- he was a runaway who just tried to make it in the city of Santa Carla, robbing people was quite proffitable and he was exceptionally good at it

- not many people dared to just sneak into that one fancy hotel and steal shit but this boy has balls of steel

- so he was going about his business, riffling through the drawers when…

„… you are supposed to do that when nobody’s around.“

„Holy shit! What are you doing here?!“

„I should be asking you that.“

There was a staredown between the two of them. A pair of wide panicked eyes meeting two amused blue orbs.

„So uh…“

„Try room 401 at the end of the hallway. Widow Collins wears a new diamond necklace each evening when dinner is served. That old hag must have some really nice things in there.“

„Huh?“

„You want me to draw you a map?“

„Um, no. Just… aren’t you gonna call for security?“

„Nah. Everybody’s down at the pool and I would have to get there… somehow.“ It seems elevetors were too much of a luxury for a hotel were there was a ‚spare no expense‘ policy. Fucking rich people.

There was a beat of silence.

„Nice wheelchair.“

- and that’s how those two met

- fastforward a few days and Marko could be seen pushing laughing David in his chair down the hallway at breakneck speed

- a lot of complaints were issued, a lot of David’s father’s money were spent and at the end of the day Marko was officially emploeyd as David’s ‚caretaker‘

- yes, with paperwork and everything (Marko had trouble signing his name but he managed)

- David’s father thought it would do some good to his son to have a friend so he promptly threw money at the hotel staff to shut them up, wrote down a contract for Marko and that was all on his end

- sure David needed help with various activities one takes for granted - like bathing – and he hated it…

- … but for whatever reason David didn’t mind when the person helping him was Marko

- about a year later one acquaintance of the hotel‘s owner came to Santa Carla to open business of his own but he decided to stay at the hotel for now

- his name was Max

#no beta we die knowing english isn't my first language #the lost boys david #the lost boys marko #tlb #the lost boys #Enaris brain goes brrrrrr

[teecupangel]

Hello. Hope you're feeling good.

I was wondering if assassins in modern au weren't assassin and just lived like normal people what was their job?

Hi, nonny. I'm doing good. Just found some time to rest up after all the moving and unpacking XD

Oooohhh, I like this ask, nonny, but Imma cheat a bit and use a lot of my answers from the modern-day fic I wrote last year XD

Altaïr

I think this will depend on how much you want to reference Altaïr’s upbringing in AC1.

If you want an almost beat-by-beat reference, Altaïr will be heading some kind of PMC that he ‘inherited’ from his foster grandfather. He’s born into the family business and it’s the only life he knows. Reading about new tech helps make the PMC always be up to date with their equipment but Altaïr usually reads any kind of scientific advancement on his down time.

If you want to give him more freedom to choose his own path, his scholarly nature would make him a job in the field of science or history (with philosophy being a favorite hobby of his)

History: more on archaeology who mainly does fieldwork, sometimes goes to conventions and symposiums to talk about his team’s latest finds. His journals detailing each day when he’s in the field are usually published and a lot of people in the field enjoy reading his thoughts… even if he sometimes gets off track and there’s suddenly a drawing of the person he loves in one of the pages…

Science: owner of a privately-funded research and development company (might even have funded it from the inheritance he got from his foster grandfather) and actually leads one of the teams. The company focuses on researching and developing new tech that would make life easier for everyone although Altaïr does have a notebook filled with the deadliest ideas for weapons that he doesn’t really have any plans to make.

Ezio

Definitely born into a rich family that operates one of the oldest banks in Italy and he’s being trained to be a COO. Would have summer jobs in one of their banks.

His passion though lies in the arts and he would paint whenever he needs to relax. His parents agreed for him to take art classes because they want to support him (and Federico is meant to inherit the business anyway).

He meets his best friend in art class and they start a friendly competition of painting the same thing.

His friend is the one who gets recognized but that’s fine with him. He paints because it relaxes him, he’s not there for the spotlight.

Their banks would have framed paintings of his and he still paints as a hobby.

He mostly works for the family bank as a foreign representative, going to other countries to help out a new branch, train the new management, and sometimes talk to possible clients and partners.

Ratonhnhaké:ton

His father wants him to inherit the family business but he decides to take over his mother’s job as the representative of their tribe and the usual liaison that talks to outsiders.

His mother is currently a judge in tribal courts.

He also works similarly to a park ranger and would check their lands regularly, making sure nobody trespasses or hunts in the nearby forests.

The Kenways:

Edward married a socialite named Tessa Kenway a few years after the death of his first wife.

Before that, he used to be a captain of a freight ship. With Tessa’s money, he started his own freight shipping company.

He’s now retired with his son taking over his company and lives with his wife in Kenway mansion. He sometimes visit his son and grandson to annoy his son and to just ‘hang out’ (“Isn’t that what you kids say nowadays?” “… yes. I suppose so?””) with his grandson.

His oldest daughter (from his first marriage) ran away from home after they tried to get her engaged to a rich dude, Edward knows she’s living with Mary and Anne, two old buddies of Edward during his freight ship captain’ing days and visits sometimes. He didn’t tell Tessa though (it was Tessa’s idea to marry her off) because he doesn’t want things to escalate and Tessa has a suspicion that he’s having an affair with Mary or Anne (or both!) while Haytham learned that his sister is fine and living her best life when he tried to catch his father cheating for his mother.

Even in a modern day AU, the Kenways will still have drama. Them’s the rules.

Desmond:

Ran away from a very isolated community that may have been cultists or just really ‘we don’t trust the government’ kind of hippies. Desmond likes to joke both.

Works for a bar that has a new owner who isn’t afraid to try out new things.

Desmond thinks he’s flying by the seat of his pants but his heart is in the right place so Desmond tries to be supportive.

Also… he was given the go signal to adjust the drinks menu and make new drinks so that’s an automatic ‘that’s my boss and I support his decisions!’ for him.

Shirley Templar is his signature drink. He’s other signature drink is “Desmond Take The Wheel” which is just him preparing whatever the hell he wants for a customer who cannot take back the drink because that is what they ordered.

Shay:

Used to work for a freight ship with his dad being his captain together with his best friend Liam.

Hope works as a logistics support for the company they work for and also a radio operator when things get hectic. Shay and Hope may have been flirting on the radio for a while (much to his father’s amusement).

The company they’re working for started making really bad decisions after the owner lost his wife and son. Liam was transferred to another freight ship to be its captain and, during just a routine job, they got hit by a massive storm too far off the nearest coast which they wouldn’t have hit had their course not been switched an hour before their departure.

Shay’s father and a lot of the crew died that day and Shay blamed the owner because the route was approved by him. He refused to settle and lost with the cause being given as damnum fatale.

Haytham scouted him soon after and he was a captain first before being elevated to Head Logistics Officer.

Arno

He owns a cafe that once belonged to his uncle (not related to him but was a close friend of his father).

He’s been arrested for disorderly conduct (he was suppppeeer drunk and his longtime girlfriend/childhood friend just broke up with him) but the officers pitied him so they just let him sleep it off in one of the cells. The dude on the other cell started singing along when Arno began to sing sad love songs. Both of them were drunk though so they made the police officer giving them an easy time… well… a hard time.

He uses the profit he got from the cafe he inherited to buy more establishments.

He’s now focused on learning how to make a bar profitable… by buying a bar.

Jacob

He was the one in the other cell. He got into a bar fight but he wasn’t that drunk. The officers heard the fight happen because some slurs about Jacob’s sexual preferences were shouted by the other dude so the officer just left Jacob with a warning.

He’s actually the owner of a small orphanage and has an out-of-school youth program that usually helps children from high-risk areas. All of this is funded by his family (to be more exact, his sister).

He has a degree in pediatrics and this is his dream job.

This might (if the rumors were true) have been because he had been an unwitting accessory to a tragic fire as a young man that led to the death of children.

He has an adopted son named Jack.

Evie

Doctor, got top marks in her batch, and continued their late father’s job as a concierge doctor. She took over her father’s patients who are all quite wealthy (including the Kenways).

On her vacations, she would join her long-time boyfriend (“You married yet?” “No, Jacob. Jayadeep and I believe-” “Yes, yes, if it happens, it happens, blah, blah, blah.”) who is part of Doctors Without Borders.

She’s officially the head of the Frye family which she inherited from their father but she always gives Jacob his share (“So you’re still a trustfund baby.” “Pretty much, I guess. My sister loves me… as long as she doesn’t have to hear about my latest dumb stunt.”) while also donating a lot to his orphanage and program.

There are rumors that it’s a money laundering thing but that’s unfounded.

Bayek

The police officer who had to suffer thru Arno’s drunken singing of his ex’s beautiful flaming hair and Jacob’s sulking.

Almost always gets the graveyard shift so his fellow officers can go home and spend them with their families.

Used to be married, and had a divorce after a hit-and-run killed their only son, he still has a picture of his family on his table and everyone knows he still loves his ex but the death of their child was too much for both of them.

His ex may or may not be part of the government’s secret intelligence gathering bureau… maybe. Bayek does not know and does not want to know as he doesn’t want to risk her job in any way IF she was an actual spy.

Layla:

Still works for Abstergo and still has a feud going on with Sofia Rikkins.

Kinda friends with Lucy and Daniel Cross, enjoys adding chaos to annoy Berg if she knows she can get away with (or make someone like Robert take the fall).

Likes to drink in Desmond’s bar (technically Arno’s) and always takes the “Desmond takes the wheel” option.

Okay, so these ones aren’t Assassins or Hidden Ones (officially) but I kinda felt bad leaving them out since I wrote about Bayek.

Kassandra

MMA fighter who came from a military family.

Had a falling out with her stepfather when she was young and she left. It’s not clear if she left on her own or if she was kicked out and she doesn’t like to talk about it.

She only talks to her younger brother although her mother is trying to mend broken bridges… it… isn’t really working… unfortunately.

Her brother is in the army per the traditions of their family and she always worries about him.

Eivor

Spokesperson for her foster brother and working to help out for his reelection at the moment.

Her passion is in poetry though (and drinking everyone under but that’s more of a pastime) and she’s working on compiling her poems into a book. Her poems are quite beautiful but tend to be on the side of trash-talking certain types of people.

It took months but the ravens/crows around the area of her home now recognize her and would leave trinkets as a thank you for always feeding them.

Note: not a lawyer so I’m not sure if damnum fatale can be used for Shay’s part but Imma wave my fanfic writer card.

#i added desmond and layla because i wanted to #modern day au #is this #fic idea: assassin's creed #or #headcanon: assassin's creed #idk #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #edward kenway #haytham kenway #shay cormac #arno dorian #evie frye #jacob frye #bayek of siwa #kassandra of sparta #eivor varinsdóttir #layla hassan

[roosterbruiser]

𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

𓁹 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ice is finally back on solid ground. For the first time in your life, you're not. 𓁹 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.5k 𓁹 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𓁹 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𓁹 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𓁹 𝐓𝐨𝐦 "𝐈𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧" 𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𓁹 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝? 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭! 𓁹 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟐𝟑𝐫𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟏 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐂𝐀 & 𝐒𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡, 𝐍𝐘

It’s been a while since Ice has stood on solid ground.

Sometimes when he’s on a carrier in the middle of the ocean and eating oatmeal for the millionth day in a row or when Slider’s roping him into another game of Black Jack before drills, he can’t remember the simple things that he can only do on the ground. Like having his boots covered in mud after a trek across the park, the kind of mud that he has to polish at home with wax and a horseshoe brush. Or leaning against the apple tree in the backyard of his parents home, plucking down palm-sized granny smith’s and devouring them as he reads Pablo Neruda or Kurt Vonnegut. Even just walking into the grocery store, pushing his aviators to sit in his blonde hair, and breathing in all that artificial crispness before grabbing a rickety cart. These are all things that he never knows that he takes for granted until he doesn’t have them anymore, when he’s cutting through a gray sky over enemy territory, when he’s talking about bogeys and angels and firewalls. 

This is his first day back on solid ground in eighteen months, his first time back on solid ground since Kuwait. He can’t go home to Michigan and pick a granny smith from his mother’s apple tree and he doesn’t have his copy of Slaughterhouse-Five on hand. He did go to the grocery store, though, and now he’s walking across the park and eating a red delicious as the sun sinks out over the hills of California. 

All around him, life is happening. Children are flying kites, lovers are picnicking, men are biking, women are jogging, birds are singing, the wind is blowing. And it’s all just happening around him like he was never really gone at all--like he hasn’t seen what he’s seen and done what he’s done. He’s not sure if that makes him feel better or worse. 

As the sky, which feels very far away from him down here, is painted gold by the evening, he sits down on the grass. His boots are muddy--a smile tugs at his lips. 

And before he can really even think about it, he finds himself holding the soft apple against his mouth with his teeth and untying his boots before slipping them off. He peels off his socks, carefully tucks them into the boots. And then he holds his bare feet against the earth for the first time since touching down.

It’s the first day of his sabbatical. 

He knows that he’s going to spend it like this: with fruit pulp between his teeth, with bare feet. Not here, though--somewhere far away from jet fuel and palm trees and the Golden Gate Bridge.

Across the country, you’re sitting at the table with your grandmother. 

She’s smoking a cigarette, her white gloves impeccably unwrinkled and pristine, as she watches George Junior field congratulations and back pats from all these politicians and socialites and family members. 

“Funny,” your grandmother says, nose upturned and lips a flat line. “Can’t tell where Du Pont’s begin and crooks' end.”

She cuts to the chase, doesn’t worry about hurting feelings, which is something you’ve always admired. If you had it in you, you’d smile. But your heart is still racing and your temples are throbbing and that salmon really isn’t sitting well--but that could just be because of the corset you’ve got on beneath this already-tight dress. 

Cocoa, who married into the Wallace family a sturdy fifty-three years ago, has always been unimpressed by manicured events like this. Tonight’s dinner was supposed to center around campaign strategy, which was why they hired waiters to serve hors d’oeuvres and prosecco, and it somehow ended with you becoming engaged to George Du Pont Junior. Personally, Cocoa thinks that George is a blundering idiot. It isn't even his person that she dislikes--it's just people that are like him. Coyotes on the prowl. He’s been sniffing around for a wife of means, one that he can use as a ladder-wrung, for years. And now he’s hiked his leg and spread his scent all over you--in the form of the gaudiest diamond ring she’s ever seen. 

She loves you--which is why she hasn’t said that this is the difference between old money and new money. Wallace’s appreciate tradition, history, heirlooms. Du Pont’s don’t, which is why your ring has never been worn before by anyone but you. 

It’s too heavy on your finger. This is the kind of ring you could never forget is there--the band is made from thick gold, tight around your knuckle, and the diamond is bright and heavy. It feels like it’s weighing your hand down now on the tablecloth, among all the empty platters and discarded nameplates. 

“It’s so big,” you tell your grandmother softly, unable to break your gaze from the gleaming diamond. “How am I ever gonna get anything done?” 

Cocoa watches the skin between your brows pucker with concern, your cheeks hollowed and bitten with confusion. 

“With your right hand, I suppose,” Cocoa sighs, nudging you. 

You hardly budge, don’t smile. You're each other's ally at stuffy events like this. So, she knows undoubtedly that you are unhappy when you don't flush and try and shush her, giggling and biting your lip.

“How am I ever gonna get anything done now?” You murmur again, quieter now. 

Cocoa understands then that you don’t just mean tasks you have to do with your hands. 

She knew it. She knew you would feel this way when it came time to move, when it came to you wearing your ring and picking out veils and bridesmaids. You’ve practically been force-fed marriage your entire life--it’s easy to understand, at least for her, why you’ve been so obsessed with it happening. You’re so young, though, only twenty-six--which is only a year older than she was when she married. She remembers what it felt like wearing an engagement ring for the first time--like it was a leash. 

She’s smart enough to avoid saying all of this to you. Instead she just leans back in her wing-backed chair and casually strokes your hair a few times.  

“Might do you some good to summer at the cottage. You know, just before the wedding planning begins. Trust me, darling, you won’t have time to rest once it begins. What, with the guest list and registry and venue and tastings,” she lists. Your throat grows tight just thinking about it. She picks her manicure for a moment, watching your face from underneath her eyelashes. “No one’s claimed it yet, anyway. Not for the summer.” 

“Oh?” You ask. 

She can hardly hear you over the orchestra, who’s still persevering through their Antonia Vivaldi as all the suited men in the room slap each other’s backs and light cigars and talk crudely about taxes and donations. 

“Yes, darling,” she says, squeezing your shoulder. “Go.” 

You look at her finally, feeling faint beneath the glow of the yellow lights in this banquet hall. 

“Would you excuse me?” You ask very softly, a polite smile tugging at your lips. 

You start for the exit without awaiting her response, heavy gown dusting the floor as you cross the wooden floor in these blistering heels. 

“Here comes the bride,” George Du Pont Senior sings, ruddy cheeks smothered with grease from his foie gras, capturing you in his arms and pulling you against his chest with a booming laugh. “All dressed in white!”

Suddenly, you’re standing in a cloud of cigar smoke as all these men guffaw and pinch your cheeks and sides, chiding and calling you Missus. The orchestra is louder and the floor feels hot and your feet are pulsing and the ring is too tight on your finger.

“Oh, Mister Du Pont,” you say very politely, face warm, “ever the charmer.” 

Carefully, you try to break away, but suddenly you’re being handed off to George Junior, who peppers your face with wet, whiskey-scented kisses like he always does when he’s had too much to drink.

“How about an August wedding, huh?” George Senior says. “Oughta give you some time to get into shape, huh?” 

“Easy now,” Mrs. Du Pont warns, elbowing him. You can tell from where you’re standing a few feet away from her that the string of pearls around her throat is made from freshwater pearls. New money. “An August wedding would be a good way to bookend the summer, though, wouldn’t it?” 

“And we could get it out of the way before election season,” your father adds, brows raised. “That would be a weight off your shoulders, wouldn’t it, kitten?” 

Kitten. You haven’t liked that nickname since you were five-years-old.

“Yes,” you answer. 

George Junior sighs into your skin, his chest pressed against your back.  

“Are you buzzing?” He asks you. “Finally going to be a bride!”

You thought you would be buzzing--since this is what you’ve been waiting for the past three years the two of you have been together.  

“Yes,” you answer, wearing a grin even if it makes you feel overdressed. “Now, I’ve got to powder my nose.” 

You don’t powder your nose, though. 

You run boiling water over your hands and lather soap on your ring finger until you can slide the diamond ring off.

Then you stand there in front of the antiqued mirror, clutching the quartz countertop, and wonder how the Hell you’re ever going to get through this summer. 

When you fall back into your seat beside Grandma Cocoa, you’re flushed. 

“Okay,” you tell her.

She smiles, touching up her lipstick blindly. 

“Thought you’d say that,” she tells you. “Keys are in my bureau. Feel free to take the Wildcat--I never use it during the summer months, anyway.”   

𓁹 𝐚/𝐧: I'm so excited to share w everyone!!!

𓁹 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

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[mouschiwrites]

hi! how are you? ⋆˙⟡♡

i was wondering if i can request a romantic male atsv matchup please?

i’m a girl, 19, aries, enfp, my pronouns are she/her. i could be really shy sometimes due to my bad anxiety, but mostly i’m very sweet and bubbly person, i’m super affectionate with people who i love. i’m also very sensitive and emotional person too. 

my height is 5’5, i have a petite figure, have some boob, long brown hair and green eyes, 

i would describe my style as a hyperfeminine. i’m polyglot and i speak 6 languages, and i’m studying linguistics in uni. my other passions are makeup, cinematography and music ofc! i’m obsessed with rabbits and bunnies ₍⑅ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎♡ overall, i love cute things, such as clothes, accessories, makeup, stuffies and etc.

hope it’s okay! sorry for my grammar, english isn’t my first language. 

thank you and have a nice day <3

Hi there! :D I hope your day is even better!! <3 (and dw about your English, it’s flawless!!) Without further ado, I match you with:

Spider-Noir!

A handful of headcanons!

He loves how emotional and sensitive you can be

With your emotional-ness and his dark, brooding personality, you guys have a lot of deep talks

Life, death, dreams, disappointments—anything and everything that resides in the deeper parts of your minds

On that note, he appreciates that you’re a fellow intellectual

He loves to explore intellectual topics in discussion as well as emotional ones, so you’re a perfect fit; you can do both!

Conversations with you are the kindling to the warmth your relationship

As for your shyness, that’s not a problem for him

He’s not exactly a socialite himself, so he won’t be dragging you to parties or anything

But he’s not nervous around people like you are, so when you do go out in public, he takes the lead

Though he really doesn’t like socializing all that much, he’s more than glad to do it for you

He also loves taking care of you in general

He sees you as a delicate flower, small (in comparison to him, at least) and in need of guarding

He knows you’re the one when you return the favor :)

Being Spider-Man is hard work, and being able to come home to someone who’s soft and kind is the best thing in the world for him

He’s a pretty masculine guy, so he doesn’t take much interest in your more feminine side

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t support you!!

He’ll often surprise you with some new makeup or a bunny plush, just to see your face light up

His nicknames for you include “dear,” “my flower,” and “my love”

He loves to be called “dear,” “honey,” and “my hero”

A little drabble!

The window flew open, a cold drift blasting through the living room. Drops of rain dribbled onto the carpet, soon overshadowed by the moisture pouring off a black trench coat that slipped through the opening.

The window clicked shut again, and all was quiet save for the ragged breathing of the man in the coat.

You stood up from your reclined position on the couch, hurrying over to him.

“You’re back,” you smiled, opening your arms and wrapping them around his middle. You hardly noticed the icy rain he was drenched in as it began soaking through your clothes.

“Yes, my love,” he breathed, still regaining the wind in his lungs. “Tonight was hard.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You pulled away, looking with sincere concern into his goggles.

He pulled off his mask, revealing a pained expression that just about split your heart in two.

“Oh, Peter…” you buried your face in his shoulder again, rubbing circles on his back.

You pulled away reluctantly after a moment. “Let me make you something warm to drink, then you can tell me all about it.”

The smallest of smiles curved his thin lips, and he leaned down to kiss you. “That sounds perfect. Let me change into something more suitable. Something that doesn’t leave you sopping wet, at least.” A little glimmer in his eye made you giggle as you finally let go, leaving him to change.

You positioned yourself on the couch with two mugs of tea resting on the coffee table. Peter sat on the ground in front of you, wrapping his arms around your hips and occasionally leaning his head against your thigh as he spoke. He didn’t need the tea; your sympathy was far more warming than a hot drink could ever be.

And… a song!

We Belong Together (Ritchie Valens)

You're mine

And we belong together

Yes, we belong together

For eternity

…

You're my, my baby

And you'll always be

I swear by everything I own

You'll always, always be mine

I hope you enjoyed! And thank you for your support, lovely!!

(divider by saradika)

#astv #spiderman astv #astv x reader #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spider noir #spider noir x reader