#and apparently I feel badly enough about it all that I need to shout into the void here.

[angelofblackblood]

I’m so tired.

#how do people make friends as adults #like I’ve been at uni 3 years #I’ve joined clubs #gone to events with people #cooked dinners and had takeaways sat in the living room #and yet somehow always seem to be an after thought #I’m literally a week away from handing in my dissertation with lots of work today #and the housing situation here sucks #and two people who I’ve been talking to about housing #who know how badly it all sucks #have put in for a flat of their own without saying anything #and I get it #it’s not really a shock cause like they’re a couple that can get a 1 bed and split the cost #they’ve been together 18 months #but I’m not even worth the talk apparently. #is it me is there something fundamentally wrong with my ability to make friends #or am I just really crap at picking people out #and like. they’re not awful people don’t get me wrong #but I also reckon if I went home from here for an extended period of time. #or left after uni #I’d never see any of them again #and apparently I feel badly enough about it all that I need to shout into the void here. #something that I do not do at all #but I have no idea what I’m doing now and finding somewhere new to live that is walkable to the uni is really difficult cause #for a uni town they sure don’t like students in any of their properties #I have so much work to do I should not be worrying about any of this right now #but I’d like to just play the switch instead and forget about this project or other people for a while #and I can’t cause this is due in on Wednesday and there’s still lots to do #and I can’t even complain about it to anyone cause they all talk to each other #a little circle of gossip that just goes round and round

[autisticlenaluthor]

Supercorptober - Wild

 Lena cringes. She presses herself up against the wall, trying to make herself as shapeless and unseemly as possible. 

It isn’t too hard. In the middle of a frat- surrounded by sweaty college kids and blinding lights, Lena may as well not even exist. 

She looks down and awkwardly tries to adjust her costume. Andrea convinced her to dress as Easy A— a reference to a movie Lena’s never seen that was apparently the perfect costume, because ‘You’ve got great tits, Lena. You can’t not show them off!’

It seemed like a fun idea at the time. But now, stuck in a black corset with a red ‘A’ taped to the breast, Lena wants nothing more than to wring her so-called friend’s neck. She’s alone and she’s sweating, and god, it’s so loud, Lena can’t help the way her entire body constricts as she digs her nails into her palms to try and give herself something else to focus on. It all makes her want to crawl out of her skin. No- it’s enough to make her really try. She’s got the crescent moon scars and scratch marks to prove it.

Out of nowhere, someone stumbles into her. 

Lena flinches but not far enough to keep the solo cup filled with something that smells like battery acid from spilling all over her. She yelps at the sensation. She’s wet now— wet and sticky. Sticky on her skin, with dampness seeping under the corset, into every crevice of her body. And before she realizes what she’s doing— Lena’s shaking her hands out, desperate for release. But it isn’t enough, nothing is. She needs out and she needs out now. 

The drink-less pledge watches the reaction. His eyes drift down to her chest and he laughs. But Lena can’t help herself. Not with the noise and the lights and the people (fuck, there are so many people) and the liquid dripping down her skin. 

She should’ve never come here, she thinks. She hates parties. She hates Andrea for making her dress up. She hates her for choosing an outfit she knew would make people stare. And she hates her for ditching her at the first sight of her current situationship. 

Lena puts her hands up to her face. She can feel the meltdown brewing inside of her. It’s hot and angry— begging, no threatening to be forced out. 

Her face grows hot as she sucks in a breath. She can feel something touching her. Someone touching her. 

Lena’s head turns and she sees a hand on her shoulder. It’s attached to a blonde girl in a Supergirl costume who smiles and raises her brow. 

“Hey, you okay?” She shouts over the music. “I saw that guy bump into you.” 

Lena doesn’t respond. She’s supposed to say yes. College kids are supposed to party— that’s what they do. They have fun, they unwind, they get drunk with their friends. It’s supposed to be a reward, not something they have to fight themselves to survive. 

When she doesn’t speak, Supergirl answers for her. 

“Let’s go outside!” She yells. “It’s really wild in here.” 

Lena nods and before she knows it, the hand is on her wrist. Supergirl holds her lightly, her fingers hardly pressing against Lena’s at all. It seems like she’s done this before. The way she pulls hard enough that they don’t get separated but not so intensely that Lena feels dragged— she definitely knows what she’s doing. In front of her, Lena can see her free arm occasionally flail out to shove away drunken men or oblivious couples mid-make out. And before she knows it, they’re outside on the lawn, a few yards away from the frat house. 

The music still blares but it’s softened by the walls. The crowd has been replaced with the chirp of grasshoppers and a girl a few feet away, arguing into her phone. 

Supergirl releases her hold on Lena’s wrist and finally, Lena can feel the air return to her lungs. Real air, untainted by alcohol or flavored vape juice. 

“You okay?” the blonde asks again after a moment. Her voice is much softer this time, her smile now relaxed. 

Covering her mouth again, Lena inhales. She nods and stares straight down at the grass.

All she can think about is how badly she misses her dorm. She wants to be inside with all the lights off, in her favorite safe pajamas, not a damn corset and skinny jeans. She needs to be alone, protected by those four walls so she can stim freely without anyone seeing. She needs a break. 

“I know it can get really crazy,” the girl continues. “If you wanna be alone for a minute, that’s totally cool and I’ll leave. You just looked like you wanted to get out of there.” 

Lena nods again. Using all the strength she has, she manages to pull her hand away from her face and instead, wrap her arms protectively around her waist. 

“Thank you,” she breathes, doing her best to muster up a smile. 

“Of course.” 

“My friend…” Lena pulls her fingertips and pops her knuckles. “She dragged me to this. Then left me.” 

She laughs as she says it because it sounds even more pathetic out loud. She’s nineteen years old— she shouldn’t need a chaperone, like a middle schooler. 

But Supergirl frowns, nervously scratching her cheek. 

“Yeah… so did mine.” 

Lena lifts her head, eyes widening just a bit. 

“Well— my roommate and her friend group. They always go out and I never do but I thought Halloweekend might be fun because at least you get to dress up. But they all left to go get with guys. I was actually trying to find my roommate so we could leave when I saw you.” 

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

Supergirl shrugs.

“It’s whatever."

“But thank you… again, for rescuing me. Normally I- I’m better at handling this stuff.”

“You don’t need to thank me….” Her voice trails off. “What’s your name?”

“Lena.” 

A smile. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Lena. It’s just what I do.” She poses with her hands on her hips, like Supergirl in all the comics, managing to hold the stance for half a second before both she and Lena collapse into a fit of laughter. 

“I’m Kara, by the way,” she says once it calms down. 

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you,” Lena says.

She wraps her arms around herself once more, suddenly becoming aware again of just how exposed she is. It doesn’t help that outside, it’s freezing cold. Her arms are covered in goosebumps– when did those pop up? And she can’t stop her teeth from chattering. 

“Oh–” When Kara notices her shivering, she takes off her cape and extends her arm, wordlessly offering it to Lena. 

Lena just looks up, confused. She wants to ask if Kara’s always this nice. She wants to ask why she’s so nice– because what makes a strange girl, cowering in a corner at a party, so deserving? 

But she manages to keep it in, instead, accepting the cape and slowly draping it over her shoulders. 

“I um… I should get back to my dorm,” Lena says after a moment. “I’m in the East Campus building… it’s kind of a hike.”

“Wait– really? I’m in East too!” 

“Would you…” Lena hesitates, hoping the darkness is enough to hide how red she flushes. “Would you want to walk back together?”

“Yeah!” Kara grins “That would be great.” 

#supercorp fanfiction #supercorptober2023 #autistic lena luthor #supercorp ficlet

[rustic-space-fiddle]

Why do you want to fight BEN from treasure planet?

Oh boy. LEMME JUST RANT A LIL’—

He’s just rather… abrasive? Granted, Ben in the original Treasure Island was also loud and obnoxious, but I think the difference between them is the tone they both brought to their respective stories. Ben from Treasure Island was funny in that he said outlandish phrases and kept trying to touch people (which I admit I LOVE that they kept about B.E.N.), but his character wasn’t ever explicitly used for comic relief. He was more tragic that comedic, even to the very end of his story. Jim at the end of the book tells that he spent all his money at once and was homeless again in just a few weeks. It’s funny-ish, because you’d think he’d be a bit smarter with his money after being marooned for 3 years, but mostly it’s tragic because he’s still wandering and poor with no one, even though all that treasure was rightfully his.

B.E.N. on the other hand is blatantly used for comic relief, which I really don’t think was necessary. It’s not like the story was exceptionally dark up till then. Captain Amelia’s dry wit, Doppler’s bumbling earnestness, Jim’s teenage sass, Silver’s crude pirate-y commentary, and even Morphy are all plenty of fun! They seamlessly inject comedy into the story without taking you out of it. But when B.E.N. is funny, it’s just “WOOO HE’S CRAAAAAAZYYYYYY” comedy. Granted, a lot of his one-liners are really funny! I quote him often, even though I don’t care for him very much. Nevertheless, some lines just feel out of place in the story, and he acts so much like a person that you wonder why he’s even a robot (he’s robot to explain why he’s still around after 100 years [yes, I get that he’s programmed extremely well. But still!]). For example: “WAS I EVER DANCING WITH A DROID NAMED LUPÉ?!” just SCREAMED out in the middle of the moment when it feels like our heroes are losing. Silver has gone full dark side, showing no mercy; Doppler and Amelia are tied up, apparently hopeless, and Jim is being used as a human GPS, being lead for all the world like a dancing bear (geddit?). If B.E.N. was gonna shout something, it didn’t have to be so uselessly funny. Just him shouting would be inappropriate enough in that moment. But nope, because he’s voiced by Martin Short, Mr. Comedy Man, B.E.N. has to be 80% idiot, 20% accidentally useful. The more accidentally useful a character is, the closer to Jar Jar Binks they are. And I cannot stand Jar Jar Binks.

OPPOSITION: He’s just that stupid because his brain is gone! He’s smart at the end of the movie! — Yes… but he’s still obnoxious. He’s a little better, but talks just a little too long. His “I know you don’t like hugging, but get ready cuz I’m gonna hug ya—“ THAT was actually humorous and kinda sweet. Then when Jim hugs him back, it’s wholesome! But then they have B.E.N. go on to cry (badly) and ask for a tissue—AS JIM IS REALIZING SILVER IS LEAVING. Maybe I’m an idiot, but I thought that exchange was funny and wholesome and I wish B.E.N. had been reeled back a bit in his surprised reaction to getting a hug back. His surprise is warranted, but dang.

That’s all just a very long way of saying that I wish he’d been played a little quieter (still loud, but quieter), and that he’d been more purposefully helpful. Ben from Treasure Island was like a geode. He was crusty on the outside, but showed himself to be actually quite clever (though not financially savvy) and basically secured the treasure all by himself. He just needed a ship and a crew. B.E.N. from Treasure Planet was like a Wish.com quartz crystal. A rather useless fellow dressed up in a shiny comedy crust. “I have to pee!” (A thing robots can’t even do?) —BOOM! Hiding place! “I like this fresh air door I have!” —BOOM! Gateway to the center of the planet. The only time I really like that dynamic is when he’s lamenting that he can’t remember something super important (the booby traps), and then immediately after Jim reinstalls his brain, he’s like “HOLY FRICK THE BOOBY TRAPS—“.

Again, this is all just my opinion! I don’t fully hate him, and he is funny, but I think they over exaggerated him in an attempt to appeal to kids and they just didn’t need to do that! If they’d dialed him back just a tad, I think it would’ve made that last part of the movie feel less like a tonal rollercoaster. What do y’all think?

#Rusty rants #treasure planet #don’t roast me! I just don’t like the way his character YANKS you into ‘LAUGH NOW’ mode. eghh #anyway #YEE

[ae-neon]

A pro-IC post? No, actually. But kinda?

So as usual I'm talking with a lovely mutual and an idea hits me but I need to post to express it better

Rhys didn't need to have a literal blank sheet sister when he has Mor? And their relationship could have been done so much better than what we got (as usual)

Like overall it's obviously heinous but unexcused or justified by the narrative it could have been very sweet : the idea of Mor being this dreamer caught in a court of nightmares.

Like imagine stiff family dinners and Rhysand using his daemati abilities to slip jokes and snarky remarks like they're kicks under the table.

Imagine older Mor so tired of feeling trapped in the mountain and Rhys taking her flying cause that's what his mom used to do to cheer him up

And he even sneaks her to the camp to meet his best friends because she's also one of his best friends and they spend the night drinking and laughing and he just finds this little piece of his life that he wants to protect so badly

(Stealing from my anon who said the dresses were for Rhys' sister) Rhysand's mom making the dresses for Mor because she loves dressing up and needs the confidence boost. But her family won't let her take them because they're made by a lesser Fae so Rhys tells her he'll keep them for when she comes to live with him

Rhys telling Mor about Velaris on the night they find out she's betrothed. He offers to hide her away.

He's the only one who doesn't shout even when he finds out about Cassian. He's not happy but he'd never turn on her and that's when she feels sure enough, strong enough, to finally leave the Hewn City.

He likes Amren, respects her, but he warns her to be careful with the way she speaks to Mor. There is a line drawn there.

And when the call from Amarantha comes he literally wards Mor and Cassian and Azriel into the city because he promised himself he would protect them.

He also knows, if he dies, his power will go to her; has spent decades slowly preparing for it. But he still finds himself giving in and doing terrible things because he dreams of going home for starfall. He wants to walk in the door and have everything be the way it was.

Like??? There's so much there??? SJM alludes to it but only just. And then has him turn around and betray all of that??

It's so easy to justify Keir's continued existence with him saying that Mor would be next in line to serve as Steward of the CoN and it would mean going back there. But then he brings that man to Velaris?? Because apparently he has no real control over the CoN despite constantly threatening it's citizens.

Also the magical eugenics programme mating bond sucks because then he meets some random person and they're suddenly more important than the family he's been with for 500 years??

[Not to be that person but (maybe it's because I'm ace??) that sort of bond never feels romantic to me? It feels like the self insert of the author and the reader is just deeply insecure and has no deep connections to other people. Or that least very weirdly skews importance to romantic relationships over every other kind.]

#sjm critical #those people deserved better #help lol #im still an anti #anti sjm #acomaf is the grave #acowar is shit too

[theonethatyaks93]

Sleepless in Burbank (PaTB/Brinky Fic)

Hey y'all!! Oooh two new fics in one week?! What the heck is wrong with me? Anyways this came from a challenge me and my good writing pal/friend @therealhayyhay were doing where we gave each other prompts for fics. She asked me to write a fic where Pinky gets a little too into Brain's personal space when sleeping and I happily obliged. Go read the one she made for me it's so sweet!! She's such an amazing person!! But here's mine for those who were interested. Hoping this becomes a recurring thing because it was so fun and it allows me to write fun things!! Enough of my ramblings here's the fic:

Only Pinky could make bedtime an utterly laborious task.

That’s what The Brain was pondering to himself currently as his partner was sprawled haphazardly across the bed, snoring softly. He had absolutely no sense of staying on his side, which Brain found irritating, even though it had been happening for years. He desired sleep, especially after tonight’s failed plan ended in an explosion. A reprieve from all the pain was enough for him.

But apparently, Pinky did not care about personal space.

He wanted to reprimand him for his unusual position, but he was already too far gone. He’d probably be up until morning if Brain were to awaken him now.

By all things good on this planet would Pinky just move over?

Brain groaned, bloodshot pink eyes shooting open as his friend kicked him accidentally in the waist for the second time in five minutes. He knew that Pinky was prone to excessive movement while he slept but this was becoming too much. He was thinking about just taking his pillow and sleeping somewhere else, but…something kept him from leaving. An odd feeling held him down, refusing to let Brain get up.

It didn’t help his case when Pinky made a faint, breathless noise, which caused Brain to feel a light blush dust his face.

God forbid, he was going to regret this later.

He turned to face upward, staring at the bars at the top of their cage. They were barely visible in the darkness, rather they were only shadows. It was somewhat ominous. Even a little scary. But if looking at them would benefit, then so be it.

Brain wanted to fall asleep; he wanted to just drift off and wake up to a nice cup of coffee to kickstart his morning. He secretly hoped that Pinky would fix them breakfast, give him a massage, and kiss him on the forehead like he did almost every day. Brain liked their routine quite a bit more than he was willing to admit.

But sleep was all that he craved right now. Not affection, not embraces, and most certainly not kisses. He just needed to close his eyes and sleep. That was all.

Really. No thought of kisses from Pinky’s cloud-like lips right now. No.

Brain closed his eyes, feeling a slight wave of drowsiness wash over him. He inhaled deeply and sighed, finally feeling content about his situation. Pinky hadn’t even touched him once recently…

SMACK!!

Brain winced in pain as Pinky’s paw hit his face with such vigor it almost caused him to yelp. He briefly held his eye, which lightly stung from the impact.  He growled, sitting up in bed with an angry look on his face as he saw his companion’s arm fall right onto his pillow, taking up all his space. Of course, Pinky was still dead asleep.

How on earth was he supposed to rest now that Pinky was becoming a bed hog?

He wanted so badly to wake him up, to shout and tell Pinky that he needed to share the space. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His friend looked so happy, so peaceful, even if he was invading Brain’s space unknowingly. Ruining Pinky’s night just to confront him would be too cruel, even for him.

Groaning in defeat, Brain cautiously moved Pinky’s paw off his pillow before he laid back down, facing away from him. He guessed his ruined circadian rhythm would be somewhat mendable. At least, this way, he wouldn’t be distracted by something else. Or rather, someone.

Brain felt a little remorseful about turning away from Pinky, but it was what he needed for a good night’s rest. Though, he could still feel a little heat pooling in his cheeks. But he chose not to dwell on that, instead focusing on falling asleep once and for all. Pinky did bump into him again and he pulled the blanket away a little, but that was normal. Brain was used to those things.

He was just about to drift off when he heard soft murmurs coming from behind him. Brain cursed under his breath; what did Pinky want now? He turned around, about to spout some harsh words when he noticed how Pinky was beginning to toss and turn aggressively, whimpering quietly. Which only meant one thing:

Great, another nightmare. Just perfect. At least he wasn’t talking in his sleep this time.

Brain always hated it when Pinky had nightmares. He would get so scared, and then he would be dead silent the next day. Pinky would sometimes wake up in tears; other times he’d yell while still slumbering, which would very much startle Brain. But this time, it was different. He was too quiet, no shouting or crying to be witnessed. Instead, violent thrashing was present, which was not the regular occurrence when it came to Pinky.

This one must be really bad.

He felt his ears droop, guilt lingering in his mind as he watched Pinky violently turn in bed. His whining was still clear, and to say it was bothering Brain was an understatement. Brain had been so annoyed with Pinky’s sleepy antics. And now he was suffering through what seemed to be a very upsetting dream for no reason. Curse the unnatural nature of the resting world.

The persistent thought in his mind just to ignore him and sleep be damned. He was going to do whatever it took to ease Pinky.

Brain scooted closer to his quivering partner, his mind whirling. Giving affection was not usually his strong suit, so it was taking him a while to figure out an adequate solution. Choosing the more…intimate option, Brain wrapped his arms around Pinky, soothingly rubbing his back with care. Pinky stopped stirring, though his face was still in an unpleasant grimace.

It wasn’t enough. Pinky needed to be certain that he was there for him. Here goes his dignity.

He carefully pulled Pinky closer, continuing to hold him tightly and gingerly squeezing him. It was disheartening to see him so distressed, but Brain knew that he’d be able to calm him down. Hopefully.

“Hush, Pinky. It’s alright. No need to fret, I’m here now. I’m always here for you,” he whispered softly, trying his best to sound sympathetic. Brain nuzzled his chest, placing a small kiss on it when he lifted his head up afterward.

It thankfully worked.

Pinky became relaxed, his previously tense body loosening. A soft smile graced his lips as his quiet snoring returned anew. Brain un-did their embrace, pulling away from Pinky with a placid smile, satisfied with his work. He felt relieved that he’d been able to help Pinky so much.

But now, he needed to sleep.

Brain settled back onto his pillow, this time choosing to face Pinky rather than away from him. It was a euphoric notion that the last thing he’d see before finally closing his eyes would be the mouse he…tolerated most. He took a cleansing breath, prepared to finally get the sleep he so desperately treasured.

Until he was forcibly tugged from where he lay by Pinky’s slender arms, being pulled into his chest.

Brain was about to protest by removing himself from the hug, but before he could muse a way to part, he was struck with a pleasing warmth, his backside feeling like it was on fire. His initial confused expression shifted to one of contentment, a deep blush present. He sighed in Pinky’s hold, mostly from their shared heat. He supposed that sleeping like this for one night wouldn’t be the worst.

It was all so calm. Brain could hear Pinky’s gentle heartbeat and his low breaths in his ears. It was weirdly peaceful. Unlike those other times when they did this when they were awake, which were still nice, but this hit different. Probably because Pinky wasn’t awake, and he was the only one that could appreciate this affection.

Before he could second guess what he was doing still in Pinky’s arms, his eyelids grew heavy, and his mind began to wander. Perhaps, he’d scold his friend for this tomorrow. But currently, all he focused on was remaining with Pinky, together. As sleep finally came to him, Brain snuggled closer to his partner, the softness and warmth of his fur being the final thing he touched before drifting off.

*****************************************

He was awoken not by the sunlight, per usual, but instead by the sound of shuffling beside him, and a light yawn. Brain blinked once, the familiar scent of Pinky welcoming him back to reality. It was only then that he realized that he’d been sleeping with such proximity to Pinky all night. He’d almost forgotten about last night’s escapade.

And then he saw Pinky’s stunning blue eyes and it all came back to him.

Oh goodness, Pinky looked incredible. Wait, was what happened last night real?

It was. What a relief.

“Narf! Good morning sleepyhead!” Pinky playfully tousled the fur on Brain’s head and kissed his forehead, which caused him to blush.

“Good morning, Pinky.” Brain droned, still a little bit tired, though it had been the best night of sleep he’d gotten in a while. “How did you sleep?”

Pinky giggled. “Oh very well Brain! The bed was extra warm for some reason. Gee I wonder why?”

Brain smirked a little; Pinky’s tone had indicated that he knew the answer, which was just a little humorous. “I must say that last night’s rest was very pleasant. I’m almost completely ready for the day.”

“Wonderful, Brain! Poit!” Pinky sat up immediately, getting ready to do his usual morning procedures. “I’ll go make breakfast, get your yummy coffee all ready, and then we can…”

Brain cut him off, grabbing Pinky’s arm to keep him in bed and placing his hand on Pinky’s mouth. “I said almost. I didn’t say get up, did I?” His voice was almost a needy whine and there was a bit of a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Brain couldn’t help but softly smile when Pinky’s gaze met his as he realized what Brain had meant.

“Egad!” Pinky’s face lit up. “More bedtime with my bestest boyfriend? You mean it?”

“Indeed. Just a few more minutes shall suffice excellently.” A part of him wanted to just get out of bed and start the day, but Pinky came first. And he needed more time with his lover. Desperately.

“Yay! It’s cuddle time, sweetheart! And your gonna looove it!” Pinky giggled as he settled within the blanket again next to Brain. The temperature increased dramatically.

Brain could only muster one quick chuckle before his and Pinky’s lips met for a quick, but well-deserved chaste kiss. When they parted, Brain settled his head below Pinky’s, wrapping his arms around his waist again. He felt Pinky’s arms do the same; they were even closer than they had been last night.

As the two just relinquished in their shared embrace, Brain couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest mouse in the world that he’d found Pinky. Not only was he a great friend but he was a doting partner and, yes, an exquisite snuggler. He knew that they’d always have each other, no matter what abnormal circumstances came their way.

Even if Pinky kept him awake for half of the night.

Special thanks to once again my good friend @therealhayyhay for just being the coolest and most supportive person ever. BTW you might wanna check the notes on the Ao3 version of this for a little surprise lol. Thanks for reading!!

Ao3 version is linked below:

#pinky and the brain #patb #brinky #animaniacs #pinky and the brain fanfiction #this was soo much fun!! #it is my shortest work ever but I still really enjoyed it #i wrote this in one day that's just crazy

[h0ney-gl0ws]

Please may I ask for a Griss x reader who gets badly injured in battle and he goes all protective killin everyone and trying to help cause unlike himself and pain he don’t like the reader in that type of pain

Of course you may! You didn’t specify whether you wanted headcanons or a one shot, so I went with a one shot, I hope that is alright as I’m pretty happy with how it turned out! :)

Thanks for the request and be mindful of the content warnings!

Cws: Griss, Violence, Blood, minor character death

Word Count (Approx): 972

The cries of the corrupted rang out as they charge into battle. The sounds of swords clashing against swords. Distant explosions from various spells. It was all so melodic. After all it was the sound of pain.

Griss let’s out a strained laugh after a particularly good hit from an opposing soldier. Spitting out some blood, he says darkly, “You hit well, but not well enough, a pity really.” before casting nova upon the poor soldier. Swiping a bit of blood off of his lip, He shakes his head as he watches the soldier disappear in a flash of light.

The four hounds were currently infiltrating an obscure village, by order of Lady Zephia, there’s apparently an artifact that will assist them greatly in their upcoming toils with the divine dragon. Of course, the villagers will not part with their precious artifact without a fight. Delaying the process significantly. Griss does not mind too much, though, at least he’s getting his fix of pain out of this. Being able to relish in the agony of a battlefield is worthwhile!

Griss was just about to rush in again ready to strike another victim when he heard the one and only scream that brings him terror instead of pleasure. Yours.

He turns just in time to see an enemy soldier pulling their sword out of your body. A dark crimson dripping from the weapon…

The same red pools in his vision. Pain was all fun and games when it was his. He took pleasure out of agony, he’s the one who always yearns for more suffering, but seeing you fall limply to the floor clutching your side, an expression of absolute torture on you face. That was not amusing to watch.

The next moments went by in a flash, literally. The brightness of the flames of ragnarok fill the air. Griss could hardly register the villager’s panic as he tore through their pathetic excuse of an army. He stood among the fallen panting heavily, only snapping back to the reality when he hears you release a pained grunt.

He rushes to your side in an instant sliding to his knees to get on your level, “Hey- hey! Don’t be moving around like that! You’re going to make the pain worse!” He scolds.

You tsk, “That’s rich coming for you-“ you wheeze pausing to try to breath, “I thought you loved this kinda thing? Aren’t you envious?”

“Don’t even joke about this right now, even on the brink of death you are still just as much as a pain…probably why I love you so much…” Griss doesn’t smile at you as he says this. Instead he casts his eyes downward and attempts to pry your hand away from the wound.

You hiss as the cold air of the outside breeze hits your open wound. Your hand is sticky…you don’t even wanna look in fear of throwing up. From the way the world around you is spinning you might do that anyways.

You feel a pressure against your cheek, and a voice? Griss? You should listen…

“Hey! You gotta stay with me! I do know some healing spells but you are going to have to stay awake! Focus ‘kay?” Griss shouts.

focus…

A sharp sudden burn against your abdomen nearly causes you to jolt up reflexively. You cry out instead.

“m’sorry, this is the only way I know how to heal, it’s gonna sting…a lot.”

Another flash, another agonizing piercing sensation.

“AH! Ah, Griss, stop, STOP!” You shout pushing his hands away. You wrap your arms around yourself again trying to soothe the lingering ache. To your dismay your fingertips come back still stained red.

“I’m going to need you to cooperate with me here, I know it hurts, believe me, but I’m almost done. Please…let me heal you.” You look into his eyes, he’s pleading with you.

“When did you become so soft Griss?” You tease.

He rolls his eyes playfully, painfully smiling as he once again pries your hands away from your wound. Within the next few minutes your were mostly healed, although very, very, sore.

Griss aids you to your feet, and catches you as you stumble. You squeak as the sudden movement hurts more than you expect.

“I did the best I could in the moment, you’re still going to be out of commission until you get the chance to fully heal up.” He says.

You look up at him, “Thank you Griss…really…you saved my life-“ you pause getting a good look at the surrounding battlefield, you whistle lowly, “And you really did a number on these soldiers.”

“I guess, seeing you in pain affected me more than I thought. I honestly don’t remember much after hearing your scream…” he laughs.

“Awww, but I thought you liked pain?”

“Please I never want to be hurt by seeing you like that again, but everything else is fair game.”

You giggle, quickly regretting the decision by remembering the discomfort in your abdomen. Settling on giving Griss a kiss on the cheek you say, “Looks like you’ll have to be my new guard dog from now on.” Punctuating the statement with a wink.

“Only if you punish me for a job well done.”

“It’s a deal then!” You say playfully tugging a strand of his hair, “now let’s hurry up and grab this artifact so we can go home and rest. I really need it.”

“Anything for you, rosebud.”

#griss fire emblem #fire emblem engage #griss x reader #oneshot #request #h0ney gl0ws works! #light angst #fluff #comfort #fire emblem x reader

[7-wonders]

The Haunting of Langdon Manor

Summary: Something needs to be done about Cordelia's ghostly presence in your life, and both you and Michael are determined to figure out what she wants with you.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Very very very plot-heavy chapter of Mad Love! I gave you guys the smut you wanted so badly last chapter, and now we're veering straight into drama. I sincerely hope you all enjoy. If you did, likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated. Also, I love asks! Send me an ask letting me know what you thought, or just your thoughts in general.

Mad Love Masterlist

It’s a morning the next time that you see the spirit of Cordelia Goode, a departure from her usual afternoon/evening appearances. She has a real knack for sneaking up on you–apparently, some tricks that one has in life carry over to death as well. You’re washing your face, trying (and most likely failing) to yet again establish a skincare routine. After you wipe your face clean with a washcloth, you look up into the mirror to make sure you got all of the cleanser when you see her ghastly form standing behind you.

Even though you can now count on two hands the number of times you’ve seen her, it still doesn’t fail to scare the absolute shit out of you. Her eyes, glazed over with a white film, feel like they’re looking into your very soul. She’s reaching out to you again, like she always does, with her decomposing hand a mottled purple and covered in dirt and blood. No matter how many times you see her, you don’t think you’ll ever not scream at the sight.

It’s just a little scream, nothing like the first time you saw her and fell to the floor in hysterics. Though it’s barely a shout, one that you’d make if you saw a spider run across the floor, it’s enough to startle Michael. He comes running to the door, and you thank yourself from five minutes ago that you didn’t lock it. Cordelia’s always gone by the time Michael arrives, and you refuse to let her out of your sight now.

When he enters the bathroom, his eyes track to where you’re looking. You can see him looking at Cordelia, and yet he doesn’t show any sign of shock or terror. Instead, he’s just confused.

“You don’t see her, do you?” you ask, still looking at her. 

Through the mirror, you see Michael shake his head. You sigh, narrowing your eyes at the way Cordelia seems to smirk victoriously before you turn around to be faced with just Michael in the bathroom. Though he tries not to, you can see the flash of pity on his face before he hides it.

“I’m not crazy,” you say firmly.

“I know you’re not!” Michael insists. “I just feel bad that you keep having to go through this alone.”

“At this point, I’m almost used to it.”

“You screamed when you saw her,” he points out.

“Just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean I’m not scared of it.” 

Wanting to get out of the bathroom since it still feels like Cordelia’s staring at you, you flip the light switch off and walk out the door. Michael follows behind you, ever loyal even when you’re sure that he thinks you’re losing it. He can say that he believes you, but you know that you would think he has a few screws loose if he were to continually see a ghost that you couldn’t see. At this point, you’re beginning to doubt your own sanity. If the Antichrist himself can’t see a spirit, then maybe it’s not there at all.

“Ugh, I hate this!” Though you feel a little childish whining like this, you also think you’ve earned the right to whine a little bit. “I feel like I’m in a bad horror movie.”

“What bad horror movie starts with the protagonist being married to the Antichrist?” Michael jokes.

“Hopefully none of them. Our relationship would surely never hold up to the one in that movie.”

Michael’s looking at you. “Maybe you need–”

“What I need is to figure out what’s going on,” you snap, immediately feeling shame at doing so. “I’m sorry, I’m just freaked out. This is my first haunting, after all.”

“Amateur,” he teases.

It hits you then. “You have experience with ghosts,” you point out to Michael, who looks mildly disgusted at the thought.

“I did, unfortunately, live amongst ghosts in the hellhole known as the Murder House.”

It’s a sensitive subject for him, but you need to broach the topic with him in order to try and find a solution. “You saw them, right? The ghosts.”

“Yes, but they can choose who, how, and when to reveal themselves. That didn’t apply to me of course, but that’s because the house ‘listened’ to me. If I wanted something to happen, it would just…happen.”

“Weird,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. “And since we’re not at some demon house that bends to your every whim, we’re stuck.”

“Actually,” he runs his tongue over his teeth, thinking, “I think I have an idea. Would you be able to call Mallory for me?”

It’s easy to trust Michael, especially regarding something that involved the supernatural. Digging your phone out of your pocket, you decide to text Mallory first instead of just ambushing her with a call.

You: Hey, can I call you?

She’s the one that ends up calling you, your phone ringing barely a minute after you’ve sent the text. When you answer the phone, you turn it on speaker before setting it on the desk.

“Hey Mal,” you say.

“Hey. What’s up?” She sounds nervous, and you don’t blame her. You’d be nervous too if you received a text as cryptic as the one you sent, but you don’t know enough information to make it not cryptic.

“Mallory,” Michael says coolly, “thank you for calling so quickly.”

“Uh…of course, Michael.”

“Madison Montgomery and Behold Chablis did a reconnaissance mission at the Murder House to learn more about my upbringing, yes?”

“Yes,” she says apprehensively.

“Did they do any sort of a spell to force the spirits to reveal themselves?”

“I think so. Is this about Cordelia’s ghost?”

“Unfortunately,” you say. “She’s still haunting me, but Michael’s not able to see her, even when we’re in the same room and I’m staring right at her.”

“Let me look through the coven’s grimoires. I’m sure the spell is in one of them. I’ll text you when I find it.”

“Thank you,” Michael says sincerely.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Mallory sounds just as surprised as you feel. “Talk to you soon, hopefully.”

You smirk at Michael after you’ve hung up with Mallory. “You were awfully nice for someone who’s sworn enemies with Mallory.”

“I’m not enemies with Mallory, I was enemies with her coven. Those who tried to destroy me have been destroyed, and since you forgave Mallory after she was involved in your kidnapping, I have no quarrel with her.”

“Never thought I’d live to see the day where you let go of a grudge,” you say. Michael rolls his eyes, but smiles nonetheless.

“Well? You up for summoning a spirit or two with me?”

You raise your eyebrows. “What, are we going to exorcize Cordelia from our home?”

“Not…exactly.”

“Then what’s your plan? My knowledge of ghosts is pretty limited.”

“We’re going to evoke her, find out what she wants and why she’s attached herself to you, and then we’re going to banish her.”

Mallory comes through with a picture of the spell less than half an hour after you hang up with her. You thank her profusely, tell her you’ll buy her a coffee for her hard work, and send the picture to Michael’s phone since you have no idea what to do with everything on the piece of old parchment paper. Michael goes to work gathering whatever he’ll need for the spell, and though you feel useless, there’s really nothing that you can do to help. In that case, you simply wait until Michael pops back into the bedroom and motions for you to follow him.

He leads you down the hallway to a door at the very end, your heart quickening when you see the pentagram carved into the heavy wood. Michael wants to do this spell in his ritual room. You’ve never been inside, and you’ve never wanted to go inside. Just the feelings that you get when you pass near the door are enough to send you running in the other direction.

Michael notices your apprehension almost immediately. “There are runes and spells in the walls of this room to ensure that nothing can get out or harm us. It’s the safest room to do this kind of spell in.”

“Okay,” you say with a nod.

“Plus the floor is concrete, so it’s easy to wash the blood off of it.”

“This spell involves blood?”

Michael nods, fishing a key out of his pocket and unlocking the door. His hand goes to the doorknob, but he doesn’t open it just yet. “Most spells involve the blood of the spellcaster. Are you ready?”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

Michael’s ritual chamber is a circular room, devoid of any decoration except for the outline of a pentagram on the floor. Unlit candles are scattered around, and an ornate knife sits on a small table. In the middle of the pentagram lies the supplies that Michael had gathered for this spell; various ingredients and a bowl to put them in.

A heavy presence is palpable just from stepping foot inside the room. It feels like a thick blanket has shrouded your shoulders, pressing down on you until all you feel is apprehension and dread and darkness. The only other place you’ve felt this sort of energy was your wedding night, when you and Michael joined your sliced palms together to signify your union.

“I’m not going to let anything hurt you, alright?” Michael says to you, waving his hand to light the candles circling the outside of the pentagram.

Michael is silent and serious as he works, eyes flicking between the picture on the phone and the jars that are laid out in front of him. You sit opposite him, watching for anything to happen. Honestly, the whole spellcasting process is a lot more like cooking than you thought it would be. There’s no sparks or bubbling as he adds things like moss, feathers, and vervain (a surprising addition, considering you had thought it was made up for The Vampire Diaries). It’s when he summons the knife across the room and into his waiting hand that this begins to take on a magical quality.

The last time that Michael had done anything like this, you were under the influence of Satan and unable to really focus on what he and Dinah were doing. With nothing inhibiting your senses now, you can appreciate how mesmerizing this process is. Something that defies the very laws of science is actually quite a scientific operation. Every ingredient has to be added in a specific order, with exact quantities required for the spell to work. There’s a beauty behind the process, and you feel lucky to be able to witness something like this.

Michael takes the knife and cuts deeply into the palm of his hand. Though you gasp at the harsh sight of him mutilating himself, he hardly even flinches as he holds his injured palm up and lets a few drops of blood drip into the bowl. Quickly, he lights a match and lets it fall on top of everything else in the bowl, the mixture beginning to smolder immediately. Part of you wants to ask why he needs a match when he can light things on fire with his mind, but you assume that using a match is part of the spell. 

Even though you know that he has advanced healing, and that his hand will look as if it was never cut into just a few hours later, you still grab reach for the cloth that had been covering the table and gently wrap his hand up. He smiles at you, letting you know that he appreciates the gesture before taking both of your hands in his. You remain silent, not wanting to accidentally interrupt the spell by asking what’s going to happen next. Instead, you wait quietly as Michael takes a deep breath and lets his head fall back. When he opens his eyes, you hold back a gasp. They’re completely black, with no iris or whites to be seen.

He speaks, his voice echoing through the room in a way that shouldn’t be possible. “Monstra te spirituum. Ne ascondas.”

The candles all go out simultaneously with an audible whoosh. Goosebumps rise on your arms at the sudden stillness that permeates the air, and you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for something, anything. When all of the candles reignite themselves again, the flames rising up towards the ceiling far higher than any candle flame you’ve ever seen before, your heart thunders in your ears.

Michael’s looking at you, except–no, he’s not. He’s looking past you. His head is tilted to the side, and his eyes, though blue once again, still have a sinister black leaching through them. His lips widen into a smile, but it’s a cruel, challenging smile. More of a wide smirk.

“Cordelia,” Michael whispers. Slowly, you turn your head around to look behind.

There she stands, looking exactly the same as you saw her this morning. Only this time, she smiles back at Michael. Without looking away from her, you say, “You can see her too?”

“Yes. I…You’ve been going through this, seeing her like this, by yourself?” You can hear the regret in his voice. If you weren’t currently faced with a ghost, you’d reassure him that this isn’t his fault.

“Yeah.”

“What do you want with her, Cordelia?”

Before you can tell him that she won’t speak, that she's never spoken, Cordelia opens her mouth. “Look at you, Michael. Turns out you did learn something from your few short months being fawned over at Hawthorne.”

Her voice sounds rougher than it did the last time you heard her speak. Which makes sense, considering she’s been dead for a few months now. Though you can’t see her eyes anymore under the white film that covers them, you can tell when she turns her attention to you.

“Are you relieved that Michael finally doesn’t think that you’re crazy?”

“A little bit, yeah,” you say, proud of the way that your voice doesn’t shake. “Why have you been haunting me?”

She laughs, coldly and cruelly. The sound makes you feel sick. “You silly, naive girl. You are not my target. You never were. You were just the easiest one to get to. It’s quite easy to haunt someone when they have no magic to protect them.”

You look back at Michael, who looks just as shocked as you feel. “What…she wants you?” you ask him.

“Why?” Michael questions. “You shouldn’t even be here. I incinerated your soul after I slaughtered you and the rest of your coven for what they did.”

An ice cold hand grips your shoulder, making a shudder wrack through you. “Your father has other plans.”

Michael’s face goes slack, and you can almost see how the blood drains from it. “Why would my father want anything to do with you?”

“As it turns out, Fiona Goode made deals she couldn’t keep her end of. Since Papa Legba got first dibs on her soul, I was the next best thing for your daddy dearest.”

“What does he want?” Michael sounds serious beyond his years, and the toll that Satan and everything that comes along with him is clear in his tone.

Cordelia’s touch disappears from you, and she pops up behind Michael, idly playing with the strands of his hair. He’s frozen in place, and you realize that he’s scared right now. “What else is a father supposed to do when his son refuses to call him?”

“I have done everything that he has asked of me,” Michael hisses, standing up to face Cordelia. “His plans for the apocalypse are progressing as scheduled. What more does he want?”

“Your loyalty, Michael, has shifted.” She looks at you now, and you know why. How could you not? “He wants it back.”

“He has it.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Michael.” 

This is getting to be too much, for both you and Michael, and you need to put an end to this. After sending you the picture of the spell, Mallory had sent you another text. She warned you that spirits could become belligerent, and that, if that were to happen, you would need a failsafe to end the spell. Without Michael’s knowledge, you had procured a bundle of sage and kept it hidden from him as you made your way into the ritual chamber. When she had suggested it, you had mentally rolled your eyes at the thought of you ever needing it.

Now, you’re glad that she had pushed you into getting the sage.

Cordelia’s too focused on Michael to notice that you grab the box of matches that Michael had left next to the bowl. While still keeping your eyes on the two, you fumble to get a match out of the box. Though it takes you a couple of tries to actually light it since you’re not looking at it, you finally feel the heat of the flame against your fingers. Holding it to the sage, you gently blow on the plant when it catches on fire until it smokes.

You jump to your feet, holding the sage in front of you like a weapon. “Time’s up, bitch.”

Cordelia’s gleeful face falls when she looks at you. “Clever,” she says dryly.

“Leave.”

The sage reduces her to a flickering form, and she glowers at you. “Fine. I’ve been patient for this long.” She looks at Michael. “I’ll be watching you. Expect more visits from me if you continue to stray from your path.”

The moment Cordelia disappears, the candles burn out again and Michael collapses in a heap. You yell out his name and fall to your knees next to him, holding his head in your lap and lightly hitting his face to try and wake him up. When he does finally open his eyes with a gasp, you lean your forehead against his.

“Fuck,” you whisper to him, “fuck, I was so worried about you.”

“You’re okay? You’re–she didn’t hurt you?” He sounds more scared than you, even though he’s the one that just passed out.

“Yes, Michael, I’m sure. I’m perfectly fine. Are you?”

“I…I think so.” He lets out a slow, shuddering breath that makes you think he’s trying not to cry. “Guess we’re going to need more than just a simple banishing spell.”

“Shh, don’t worry about that right now. We’re alright, she can’t hurt us.”

“But–”

“Baby, it’s okay.” Though you try to reassure him, he still struggles into a sitting position. When he looks at you, his eyes are cloudy with tears that are just beginning to roll down his face.

“Why won’t he just leave me alone? I’ve done everything he’s asked of me, and he still won’t leave me alone!”

“I don’t know,” you pull him into a hug and try not to let yourself cry. “I don’t know. I’m so sorry, Michael.”

It may sound a little ambitious, but you don’t care. After you keep Michael from ending the world, you’re going to do anything in your power to fucking end Satan.

///

Tag List: @thatonehumanbeing05 @michaellangdon @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @dark-mei-rose @blakescoven @wroteclassicaly @michaellangdonstanaccount @mllxngdonswife @kitty4860 @we-did-it-joe @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene @langdonwh0re @michaellangdonswhore @nsainmoonchild @langdonsjoyy @aftertheglitterfades @ferndolan @the-mysticalm-blog @hellfire-club-things

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #ahs #michael langdon imagines #ahs apocalypse #mad love musings #mad love

[this-is-krikkit]

Top 5 queer characters

ooooh good one, thank you !!

5. Frankie Bergstein. The most gentle soul out there, hilarious whether she wants to be or not, an incredibly loving and warm character who ends up falling in love with a woman who's shown her nothing but disdain most of their lives before they end up in the same shitty situation. What i especially love about her is that in my headcanon where that show didn't queerbait us to death, she's the bold and crazy one who doesn't care about other people's opinion, she's the one you'd expect to be brave and loud and clear about how she's in love with her best friend and it's not just platonic. But i actually love the idea that she might be the one struggling most with that realization and how to act on it, because she used to be so open and loving of everything and everyone (and still seems that way) for the seven decades before the show starts ; and she got her heart broken so badly from the twenty year old affair, that although she did get attached to Grace quickly enough and jokes about being more than friends all the time, she's deadly afraid of those feelings and what may come of them. I absolutely love this strong and funny and silly woman on the outside, who hides a much more vulnerable and frightened woman on the inside, who deserves all the lifetime of love and affection Grace has never allowed herself to feel or show anyone.. until now, post-canon !!

4. Crawley, my actual demon child, who is way too good for this world, and the other two he's visited. (And i've been torturing myself for a solid half hour trying to pick between him and his equally amazing boyfriend Aziraphale, and ended up flipping a coin for it. I'm sorry Aziraphale. I love you so much.) Anyways, back to Crawley and his ridiculous crush on an angel that makes him do crazy things such as going to actual heaven to save said angel's ass, and who embodies Iris by the Goo goo Dolls so perfectly it's a lil suspicious and he probably had smth to do with that song coming to life while he was under cover on Earth. I love a tv show that brings a book to my attention, i loved both of those media and i cannot wait for season 2.

(do i need to explain that gif choice ? no i don't. bye.)

3. Charity Dingle, chaotic bisexual icon if i ever saw one !! haven't had a chance to catch up with the soap since the Vanity shit hit the fan, but i'll get back to her one day because i miss the truly Slytherin Queen that she is (sorry for the HP mention but it belongs to us now, fuck JKR and terfs in general). Pretty sure she's the most flawed character in this list, but i apparently LOVE a queer anti hero ? She's a lot of things and not all of them good ; she's a cheat, a liar, a bad mom most of the time, selfish and venale and has trust issues towards everyone and herself the size of a mountain. She's also a survivor of terrible abuse, a fighter, a love-starved but deeply insecure person who won't let that be seen easily. She's the only such representation i've ever seen of a wlw woman esp in a popular soap, and her simply existing gives me so much hope that society might just be evolving in the right direction ? Idk man, on the good days where i still have faith for lgbt future, she sorta gives me hope for our queer lives to become part of the norm and not just sensational and weird.

2. Regina Mills from OUAT. What a great show with a great lesbian power couple and awesome message about queer families, or so i'm yelling somewhere in that parallel universe where the two cowards who wrote it grew courage instead of magic beans and made Swan Queen canon. I grew to love this character, it wasn't love at first sight (although def lust at first sight, shout out to them Evil Queen gowns) and now i'm trying to write self indulgent fics from her pov and day dreaming about all the things she deserved that she never got. Best redemption arc (apart from my #1 down there maybe) i've ever seen, a full badass bitch energy. Sidenote, Lana Parrilla being the biggest and loudest Swan Queen supporter in the cast felt suspicious to me in the beginning (idk, i don't get me either), but i'm finally at a point where i can fully appreciate how awesome that was of her.

(Yes that gif was queerbait. Yes i still get excited seeing it.)

1. Obv my number 1 queer bitch forever is ROOT from Person of Interest, it's been 6 years and i'm still in denial of the byg trope they pushed down my throat a meer day after she finally got her tiny sociopathic soulmate back. She was a lot of things that i can't detail or i would die from dehydration bc the tears would consume my entire stock of water, but she also happened to appear in a TV show i actually loved. I mean i did start watching strictly for the gayness i vaguely knew was ahead, let's be real, but POI is a show i really came to love so much even when she wasn't a main character. It touched me deeply, and i still rewatch it and get blown away by the genius of so many of its episodes, from the mind blowing plot twists to the soundtrack. I had so many kids on that show and loved them all so much, just thinking about it hurts... We were robbed of a Shoot reboot, and i'll leave it at that.

(look at her being so passionate and right and fierce and hot. loooooook. i would have followed her into battle from day one of her psych ward escape 😢 )

#root #regina mills #charity dingle #crawley #frankie bergstein #wlw #lgbt characters #lgbt stuff #person of interest #once upon a time #emmerdale #good omens #gay omens #grace and frankie #still mad at three fo these for their finales lmao #tumblr games #trying-to-get-somewhere-real #asks #I HAD TO PICK AMONGST ALL MY KIDS I FEEL LIKE SUCH A BAD PARENT AAAH

[moviemunchies]

Before creating The Chosen, Dallas Jenkins was an up-and-coming director among Christian moviemakers who made a deal with a studio (that was mainly known for wrestling??) for what everyone hoped would be a lucrative deal, making a bunch of successful Christian movies. He opened with a film he put a lot of work into, The Resurrection of Gavin Stone.

Then it bombed at the box office, and Jenkins felt like his entire career was over.

Since it was on Netflix, I decided I’d give it a try! After all, I am of the opinion that financial success is no indicator of quality when it comes to art and media. There are plenty of great films that did terribly in the box office, and there are plenty of terrible movies that are incredibly profitable. 

Let’s give this one a try.

I mean, ‘eh’?

Alright, it’s fine. It’s a good Christian movie, and it certainly didn’t deserve to bomb, but I remember thinking that this came from the same guy that made The Chosen, which surprised me with how different it felt than a lot of Biblical screen fiction. The Resurrection of Gavin Stone felt like a typical Christian film. A good example of one, to be sure, and miles ahead of God’s Not Dead, but it didn’t feel like it was breaking much ground.

The story goes like this: Gavin Stone was a famous, mem-making child actor who has been trying to build his career in Hollywood as an adult, but it’s been hampered by his own party hard lifestyle. After a particular indiscretion, he’s sent back to his hometown and given community service at a local megachurch. While sweeping floors there, in order to impress the pastor’s daughter, he joins the church’s local play in the role of Jesus (he actually is a talented actor). But to do so he has to pretend to be Christian, and things become complicated when his Hollywood life comes knocking.

One of the ways in which this film is pretty heavy-handed is that Gavin is apparently almost completely ignorant of Jesus and the Bible? He knows who Jesus is, but he doesn’t seem to have a clue that Jesus of the Gospel is humble and doesn’t draw attention to himself. It makes an amusing set of sequences in which he’s desperately pretending he knows what he’s talking about, but really? He doesn’t realize that Jesus isn’t the type to shout down people with thunder? I know some people who don’t know the difference between Old and New Testaments, but it’s 

It’s worth noting that the other cast members of the play, especially those that Gavin works closely with, see right through his act and immediately know that he’s faking it based on simple conversations. They just don’t say anything about it because they want to help him, and because he’s the best actor in their cast.

Overall, I do really like these interactions. He’s utterly clueless about anything regarding church, and they’re utterly clueless about anything involving acting. I thought this bit could use more work, not because what’s there is bad, but what it’s pretty good and I wanted more of it. Entering a new group, whether that’s a religious group, a school group, or club, it’s important to have a group of people to build yourself with, and I’m glad it wasn’t just Gavin and Kelly bonding to help bring him to the point where the movie wanted him.

I also felt as if we really need a stronger motivation for Gavin to get involved in the first place. The one we get is that he wants to impress Kelly, the pastor’s daughter, and it spirals out of there. But why does he want to impress her so badly after meeting her once? I don’t know, their chemistry isn’t bad, but in their first conversation, it isn’t as if it’s enough to convince me they have an instant connection.

And to this movie’s credit, Gavin and Kelly’s relationship isn’t really a done deal by the end. I thought we’d get a shot of them kissing at the end and the movie being like, “LOOK! They’re perfect together!” the way most movies do (especially Hallmark-type movies do). Maybe being an explicitly Christian movie they didn’t want to do a kissing scene? Or move as fast as an average Hollywood couple? In any case, it ends with them deciding they want to keep seeing each other, and I felt that made sense.

Doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot of cheese in that relationship over the course of the movie. YMMV on whether that’s a feature or a bug.

[I’m also super amused by how it turns out that apparently every guy in their age group has tried asking out Kelly and gotten nowhere.]

And so this movie is…fine. It’s good, but it’s not outstanding, not surprising in its general shape. It’s got fun little bits, but again, from the man who made The Chosen I was expecting something that would surprise me. And I don’t want to knock this movie or its cast, because I’m imposing unfair expectations on it. The cast does a great job with the material it has! Still, if you’re anticipating something as different as The Chosen, you’re bound to be disappointed.

#The Resurrection of Gavin Stone #Dallas Jenkins #Movie Munchies #reviews

[mad-madam-m]

T&B2 Thoughts: Episode 9 – Have not thy cloak to make when it begins to rain.

TIME FOR ANGST, BAY-BEE.

- Love how they just show us Barnaby hitting the ground and rolling like a rag doll. Honestly it's a testament to how well-built Saito's suits are that he didn't fucking die without his powers activated. Holy shit.

- Related: How much do you think Kotetsu is beating himself up for not going with Barnaby when they split up in the museum? Because I bet it’s a lot.

- The way it focuses on Kotetsu's reaction here—specifically the way he clenches his teeth—I just. I can't. Like not even he's the focus and we see the other heroes around him; they zoom entirely in so that we only see Kotetsu's reaction to this line. His reaction isn’t just the most important: it’s literally the only one that matters. I am completely normal about this.

- Also I will be real with you, the first time I watched this episode, I shouted, "NOW YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS ON THIS END, YOU SELF-SACRIFICING ASSHOLE." I was having a lot of emotions. I'm not proud.

- Okay look we saw Barnaby’s breakdown with Kotetsu nearly dying in his arms because his powers deactivated right before he got shot with a fuckoff giant laser gun (that Barnaby was firing), and now we’re seeing Kotetsu after Barnaby has been badly, badly injured because his powers deactivated right before a bomb went off that he was holding. Maybe this will help him take better care of himself in the future.

- Yuri “I set murderers on fire in my spare time” Petrov, calmly advising the rest of the First League not to get carried away. The irony is so thick you could cut it with a machete.

- This nurse looks like Melissa McCall and you will never take that away from me.

- "We're not sure when he'll wake up" I KNOW WHEN HE WILL, IT'S BEFORE CHRISTMAS EVE.

- Remember way back in episode 1 when I said "This kind of flashforward is one of my least favorite narrative tropes"? This!! This is why! We, the audience, know Barnaby wakes up and is back in action by December 24, because they showed us that at the very beginning of the season. So even though the characters don't (and can't) know that, we do and it takes away from some of the tension of having one half of your title duo in a fucking coma. For us, it's not if Barnaby is going to wake up; it's when.

- And now in a reversal of the previous scene, they are very notably showing us everybody else's reaction to the news that Barnaby is in a coma and may not wake up, but having Kotetsu's face hidden, as he apparently just waits for someone to notice that he's wearing Barnaby's glasses.

- I really love how all the older heroes react the way that Kotetsu expects them to with what they say, but you can see in their faces they know why he's being a dork about this: he’s trying to make them laugh and lighten the mood. And the younger heroes, of course, don't get it because they haven't known Kotetsu as long.

- And he says he's leaving to get some rest, which all the older heroes also know is absolute bullshit.

- Sure enough, the next scene is him on the street, looking for Vincent Carl. Because Kotetsu is so action-oriented, he can't just sit by Barnaby's bedside while the man who put him there is still on the loose. He has to do something, and finding Vincent Carl is that something.

- I AM HAVING SOME EMOTIONS.

- This is such a short scene but it's so packed with feelings. This is where Kotetsu shows how he's actually feeling: not in front of everybody else, where they'll worry about him, but when it's just him and Barnaby. Where he admits that it’s hard working alone, because after three years he’s used to having a partner, used to having Barnaby by his side. Where he quietly, heartbreakingly tells Barnaby that he needs to wake up, because they’re supposed to go out for drinks. And he's still hanging on to Barnaby's glasses, like it’s the only piece of him Kotetsu can touch right now.

- FUCKING NOPE.

- Y'all know what my first thought was you know what it was.

- Oh my God Kotetsu no

- I do kind of love that Yuri and Agnes figure out that he’s investigating Vincent Carl on his own in part because he lets fans take pictures with him while he’s out doing it. I love all the little reminders that Kotetsu is popular now (maybe not the most popular, but he definitely has some dedicated fans), and he hasn’t really changed anything about himself.

- THE PROBLEM IS THAT THEY'RE MARRIED, YURI.

- Aw Cat honey. She's so scared during all of this, and can you blame her? She’s getting a very harsh look at what it is to be a hero, and she’s already been nervous all season, so this is just really amping it up.

- And the hell of it is, you know that Kid’s got to be worried, too, but she’s learned how to compartmentalize and stay focused on what she can do. I really, really love them and I love seeing Kid as a senpai this season, with a younger teammate that she’s having to look out for. 

- Also the charm Kid has for her is the cutest thing.

- I know there’s a lot of focus on Kotetsu for obvious reasons, but seriously, none of the heroes are handling Barnaby’s hospitalization very well. It’s really shaken them, especially the younger ones.

- You're going to forcibly inject a dude with a drug you know nothing about yes I think this counts as harassment.

- OUROBOROS IS FUNDING MATTIA'S RESEARCH!! I feel like this should've been less of a surprise for me. XD

- Ugh Kotetsu answering Kaede's call so brightly, and Kaede sitting there with the news in front of her about Barnaby's surgery because she knows, she knows her dad isn't handling this well, no matter how he's acting. And she calls because she wants to check on him. Yes, she wants to know how Barnaby is doing, but more important, she wants to know how her dad is doing. And the latter is what surprises Kotetsu.

- Honestly I love every scene between Kotetsu and Kaede in this season (in the whole series, tbh), but this one in particular again shows how much more...equal they are now, if that makes sense. Obviously he’s still the dad and she’s still the daughter, but Kotetsu is a lot more honest and isn’t hiding as much in a misguided bid to protect her. And Kaede really sits with how hard this job is, the one that she says she wants to do.

- My gosh, how fast Kotetsu comes in and takes this guy down, and also, notably, without losing his cool. It's in stark contrast to Thomas in the last episode. Yes, Kotetsu's older, but even when he's furious (and he is absolutely furious here), he's got lines he won't cross.

Like. It would be astonishingly easy to hit Carl hard enough to kill him with a Hundred Power punch, but Kotetsu strikes him with exactly enough power to only knock him out (and, in fact, without actually hurting him enough to keep him down for more than a few seconds, since Carl escapes less than a minute after this). It is amazing how much control he has over himself and his powers even when he is facing down the person who put his partner in a coma.

Kotetsu doesn't usually wait for the cameras or anything, but he doesn't even tell Agnes he's not waiting; he only lets her know that it’s over once he's got Carl down.

- And we end with the TWINS BEING FUCKING CREEPY AGAIN. GAH.

#Tiger & Bunny #Tiger and Bunny #Tiger & Bunny 2 #M watches TNB #M writes meta #M rambles #hi my name is M and I am completely incapable of perceiving the passage of time #ANYWHOOZLE let's see how many of these I can get done by Friday #take myself over the feelings roller coaster one more time before cour 2

[tae-ffxiv]

Prompt #27: Hail

“WRANGLE THOSE SHEEP!” Khai shouts, hands raised to his mouth in an attempt to amplify. Not that he needs to. His voice is loud enough as is.

He watches as Panther and Ongsall race about, herding the sheep toward the barn. Mouse, for his part, tries, but he never got the hang of it and in the end - if anything - he’s herded along with them.

Khai watches them proudly for a few moments before he heads off toward some far stragglers of the herd. One of them looks at him and gives him a high pitched ‘miiih!’ before trying to wander off a little further. Before it can, he scoops it up in one arm (another ‘miih!’ of protest), and heads over to scoop up a second with the other arm. 

The barn is thankfully clean, and he and the dogs manage to wrangle the sheep into it before the storm begins. He decides to take shelter with them - it’s not as though anyone on the farm is going to volunteer to get pounded by hail to tell him not to. 

The barn is dark inside, and all he sees is some vague, moving white splotches. He digs around in a pocket for a carved rock, turning it about in his hands and giving it a little shake.

“I forget how this works…” he mutters to himself. Holding it up into the air he gives it a shake… and it slips from his hand. 

He starts feeling for it on the ground, but someone else apparently finds it first. A soft glow starts emanating from the rock, framed by Panther’s teeth. They lock eyes for a moment before his front low to the ground and the trots off into the crowd of sheep.

“Wait, come back! I need that to see!” Khai starts wading through the sheep, following the soft glow as Panther runs about the crowd, making happy little growls every time Khai almost catches up with him.

Then the hail picks up, pounding on the roof in full force, introducing a cacophony of noise to the barn. Khai keeps after Panther, thinking nothing of it at first, until he trips over something else furry. He moves to pick himself up, and before he can even sit up properly he finds Mouse wiggling into his lap, seeking shelter from the Bad Noise.

With a low “awww” he gives Mouse a big hug, deciding he may as well stay sitting right where he is. He doesn’t need the light-rock that badly, and now his eyes have adjusted, it’s not quite so dark.

He sits a few minutes, then something bumps up against his shoulder. He turns to look and accidentally gets a face full of sheep fluff. 

Leaning back, he looks at the animal. 

“Aww, you want a hug, too?” He wraps his arms around the sheep’s neck. Then another bumps into him, staring at him intently. He gives that sheep a hug, too.

The sheep begin to congregate around him, all apparently expecting hugs, and while the outside is pelted by hail, Khai finds himself lost in a flood of sheep. 

Eventually, through a forest of legs, he spots a glowing spot hovering about.

“Aha! Got you!” he reaches out to snag Panther, the dog letting out a happy little play growl. He vanishes, leaving the rock to seemingly float in mid-air where his mouth had been. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!” he yells at the retreating stone.

When the rock comes around again, he reaches out to wrap his arms around and invisible, furry body, and shouts his victory. A chorus of ‘miiih’s rise up around him, briefly drowning the sound of the hail out.

#ffxivwrite2022

[nannychloecatalog]

Becoming Miss Daisy’s Diapered Little Helper (An ABDL Novella)

(The following was first published on: Jan 30, 2020)

Excerpt:

I slowly reached down, my hand trembling as I felt the outside of my pull-up. I pushed the urine-soaked padding against my pussy and shuddered.

I had wet the bed again.

I pulled my blanket away to inspect the damage. I could immediately smell the acrid scent of my wet diaper as I poked and prodded it with my hand. It was absolutely soaked.

But fortunately, it didn’t look like the pull-up had leaked onto my bed. The pull-ups apparently contained my humiliating accident.

I laid my head back down and let out a long, humiliated sigh of defeat and sadness.

I just couldn’t understand why this was happening!

And then I thought about what Miss Daisy was going to say… and a shudder went down my spine.

But then I realized something else…

My bladder let out a small ache. And I realized… I still had to pee. My bladder ached again. And I realized I had to pee quite badly!

I carefully climbed out of my bed and shuffled, bow-legged toward the bedroom door.

But when I tried to open it… it was still locked.

I began to feel a rising sense of panic as I realized I was trapped… and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold what felt like another torrent of urine I needed to release.

"Miss Daisy," I called out to the locked door. "Miss Daisy!?”

I waited for a response, praying that Miss Daisy was close enough to hear me and come get me.

But I heard nothing. And my need to pee seemed to be increasing by the second.

I began to pace the room in my pee-soaked pull-up, trying to calm my aching bladder and think of some solution. After all… I knew my pull-up likely couldn’t take another drop of my urine without leaking…

I called out to Miss Daisy again without any luck. Finally, it felt like all I could do was stand next to my bed, bouncing from foot to foot, trying to keep myself from losing control…

Finally, I reached a breaking point. Figured that since I'd already wet my pull-up a little, I might as well just let out a little bit to ease my bladder…

I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I felt my urethra began to unclench, followed by a slow, warm trickle of my urine beginning to flow into my already soaked pull-up and pool around my genitals…

*BAM!*

My bedroom door flung open, startling me nearly to death.

“Are you okay?” Miss Daisy asked, charging into the room.

The scare was just too much of a shock to my system. I completely lost control of my bladder… I closed my eyes, curled my toes, and felt my bladder completely release its contents.

I stood before Miss Daisy in a state of paralysis as a loud *hiss* rang out from my urine stream flowing into my saturated pull-up.

It didn’t take long for my urine to quickly overflow the pull-up and begin pouring out the sides of the diaper, down my legs, and onto the floor.

“Oh no dear, what are you doing?” Miss Daisy shouted as she watched me humiliate myself before her.

But I couldn’t stop. Instead, I just stood before her with my eyes closed, my body tense, as I continued helplessly emptying my bladder into my pull-up and onto the floor.

Miss Daisy finally jumped into action and ran to get a towel from the closet. She spread it out at my feet and pulled me by the wrist so I stepped onto the towel while I finished emptying my bladder.

Finally, my pee came to a stop, and I opened my eyes.

Miss Daisy was staring back at me. And she did not look happy. "Are you finally finished?” Miss Daisy asked.

“I think so,” I said. I then burst into tears again. “I’m so sorry Miss Daisy… I just… couldn’t hold it…”

Miss Daisy watched me cry for a few moments before finally rolling her eyes and sighing in her usual way. "What are we gonna do with you?” She said. "All right now, come on, let's go get you cleaned up.”

As she took me by the hand and led me out of the room in my dripping soaked pull-up, I was too ashamed to speak a word.

But to my surprise, Miss Daisy didn’t lead me to the bathroom, where I figured she was leading me.

Instead, she turned and led me to the next room over…

Into the nursery.

“Why are you bringing me in here?” I asked in a trembling voice.

“Because this is where we change dirty diapers, silly,” Miss Daisy said.

I was mortified as she led me to the diaper changing station, the one I had just stocked with supplies myself.

She then quickly lifted me up beneath my armpits and plopped me on the changing table. I wanted to die as I felt the soggy wet pull-up sploosh against my bottom and crotch.

"Miss Daisy, it's okay, I can clean myself up in the shower,” I begged.

Miss Daisy just tsk’d, as if I were a naughty toddler, and pushed me down onto the table. “Sorry dear, that’s not how Nanny changes wet diapers in this house.” My small stature allowed me to fit on the diaper changing table just fine, much to my chagrin.

My eyes then widened as I felt and heard the sound of Miss Daisy tearing away the sides of my pull-up diapers.

I then let out a squeal of shock as I felt Miss Daisy lift my legs into the air and pull the front of my pull-up away from my crotch.

“Eep!” I whined as I quickly moved my hands down to my crotch to cover my shame.

Miss Daisy just laughed and slapped my hands away.

“Uh oh, gotta keep those handsies up so Miss Daisy can clean the peepee mess you made down here,” she said in a sing-song tone.

“Miss Daisy, please!” I whined as she guided my hands up, making me feel utterly vulnerable beneath her strong arms and vigilant gaze.

“Don’t worry dear, I’ve changed countless little girls diapers before,” she said as she pulled the soaking wet pull-up diaper out from under my waist and dropped it in the diaper pale next to me with a big ‘splat’.

“Now you can keep those hands up yourself or I can keep them up for you,” she warned. I closed my eyes again, immediately reminded of my humiliating loss of control.

Miss Daisy then pulled out a tub of baby wipes and started to get to work cleaning my most intimate ‘areas’—pushing my feet up higher as she scrubbed my butt cheeks, waist, and crotch.

I felt utterly helpless and humiliated… although some part of me did have to admit that it felt good to get all the sticky urine I had been laying in cleaned off of my skin.

Then, Miss Daisy let one of my legs fall to the table so she could spread my legs out a bit further. She then took a new wipe and began scrubbing my pussy with it, making me squeal again. Then, I almost moaned as I felt her using her strong fingers to penetrate the folds of my labia.

“Tsk, tsk, we’re going to have to shave this pubic hair off soon. It’s just too much of a nuisance while I try to clean you,” she said, making me burn bright red at the mention of my untrimmed bush.

I then felt Miss Daisy slide her baby wipe covered fingers down to my butt crack and anus and begin to scrub hard around my butt hole. I have always been pretty sensitive down there, so I immediately started to get anxious as I felt her circling my anus with the baby wipe.

I then felt her begin to scrub my tight bottom hole with her wipe covered finger. I let out a small whimper and began to writhe in a mixture of deep submission and humiliation as I felt her stimulating my asshole… even penetrating it with the tip of her finger.

I finally lifted one of my hands to try and get her to stop, but she grabbed my wrist and held it above my head as she continued ‘cleaning me’ in my most embarrassing, sensitive region. I was mortified.

Finally, Miss Daisy lifted up the baby wipe and took a look at the brown stain on it.

“Well, it’s no surprise to see how much you don’t like having this nasty little bum of yours cleaned, given how dirty it is. Seriously, has anyone ever even taught you how to properly wipe your bottom after a poopy?”

I was speechless with humiliation.

“Well then,” miss Daisy said, rolling her eyes, “I guess that means no.”

As she tossed the baby wipes away, I was hoping she would finally let me get up and go shower off from this utterly humiliating experience.

But when I tried to sit up, Miss Daisy stopped me with the question I had come to learn to hate. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I thought… We were done…” I stammered.

Miss Daisy just let out a mean chuckle, and to my dismay, she pulled out a large bag of big, adult, white diapers from the closet.

“No, you’re not leaving this room until I put another diaper on that butt,” Miss Daisy said.

“What?” I asked in disbelief.

“Sorry dear, we have rules at my daycare center. One of the rules is that if you wet the bed at night, you wear diapers to bed at night. And another one of the rules is that if you wet yourself while not in bed during the day, you have to wear diapers while not in bed, during the day!"

Miss Daisy pulled one of the large, white, adult diapers out from the package. It was extra thick and puffy looking, like a baby diaper, but clearly large enough to fit me. She then began to unfold it before my eyes.

“I’m just glad that I still have these adult diapers leftover from when I had an elderly resident staying with me for a few weeks. They are extra-thick, made especially for heavy nighttime wetters, but given how much of a puddle you made on the floor the next room over, I suppose it’s better safe than sorry,” she said with a laugh.

“Miss Daisy, please!” I begged, “You don’t need to put me in a diaper. The only reason I had that accident is because the door was locked when I had to go pee!”

“Little girl. If your bladder control really is that poor, I better put you in a diaper just to be safe. If you can prove to me that you don’t need them, then maybe I’ll take you out of diapers when you’re ready. But there’s no way I’m risking another mess like the one you made this morning. I hired you to help me clean the place and take care of it. Not leave pee stains everywhere.”

I burned bright red as I realized her point was legitimate. Even though I had never lost control of my bladder like I had that morning before, from her perspective, it did make sense for her to think that I couldn’t control my bladder.

I closed my eyes and tried to disassociate as Miss Daisy pushed me back down onto the diaper changing table, unfolded the large crinkly diaper beneath me, and pulled it up around my waist.

She then lowered my legs to the table, took out a container of baby powder, and began to douse my entire crotch and thigh area.

The overwhelming scent of the baby powder transported me to an earlier era in my life, an era defined by the humiliation of being dependent on someone else to get your diaper changed after a mess, and needing the fragrance of baby powder specifically to cover up the humiliating reality that you pee and poop your pants.

I wanted to practically die as I felt Miss Daisy pulling up the puffy white diaper between my legs, pulling it around my waist, and attaching the tapes.

She then helped me sit up and I immediately cringed as I heard the crinkle of the humiliating garment and felt the thick padding between my legs.

“Well then, it looks like it’s a perfect fit! It looks like these will do nicely after all,” she said, slipping her finger around my waist and between my legs.

“Now,” she said, wiping the baby powder from her hands, “My clock says that you’re late for work. So let’s get you downstairs for some breakfast so you can start your day,” Miss Daisy said as she pulled me to my feet.

I felt my whole body burning crimson as she pulled me toward the door of the nursery, my legs waddling from the thick diaper.

I wanted to curl into a ball and hide from my utter humiliation. I couldn’t imagine actually starting to work like this.

And it was only as we passed the other bedroom down the hall that I realized…

“Wait, what about my clothes?” I asked.

“Oh right,” Miss Daisy said. “Sorry dear, everything’s still in the wash.”

“But I can’t walk around without a shirt or pants,” I said, my cheeks burning bright red.

“Oh come now, of course you can,” Miss Daisy said. “A lot of my kids who still wear diapers run around without pants. Besides, it makes it easier for me to check if your diaper’s wet, anyway. Lord knows you’re prone to leaking,” she snickered.

“Please, I can’t, don’t do this to me!” I begged, stopping and pulling away.

Miss Daisy paused, turned around, folded her arms and frowned. “Do *what* to you, dear?” She asked with her arms folded.

“Don’t make me work in just a diaper. I can’t…”

“Why not?” She asked.

“Because… I’m not a baby! The diaper is bad enough. I feel so naked! And humiliated!” I whined, tears in my eyes.

Miss Daisy stared at me. “Well, let’s see… I believed my self to be acting in a way that was exceedingly generous to you, little girl, as I’ve been giving you my supplies, services and expertise free of charge to help you with your embarrassing, unsanitary little problem while you work with me. But if you’d prefer to quit, you may pack your things and go back to living in your car,” she declared.

Her words felt like a sucker punch. I suddenly realized what she was saying.

“Wait… Miss Daisy… I wasn’t trying…”

“No dear, it’s okay,” Miss Daisy said, pointing back toward my room. “If you’re going to take my generosity for granted, it might be better for you to just leave now.”

I slowly turned to go back to my room. And with every step, I realized that in those few short moments. I had just lost my job, food, and a roof over my head… all at once.

I turned back to Miss Daisy with hurt in my eyes, only to find her coldly checking her watch. “I’ll give you a couple of minutes to pack your things while I wait downstairs for you in the kitchen,” she said, walking away.

A feeling of emptiness and regret washed over me as I watched Miss Daisy turn away.

I shuffled back into my bedroom, and as I wriggled and pulled my diaper off, instead of feeling liberated, I strangely felt…

Sad. And scared.

I stared at the baby powder covered diaper on the floor, with waves of regret coming over me.

*Maybe Miss Daisy was right*, I thought to myself. *Maybe I was being the jerk here. After all, I did pee myself in front of her. Maybe she **was** just trying to do what was necessary to look after her house… and look after me.*

I sat on the bed and immediately began to sob. As humiliating as it was to be put in a diaper… I didn’t want to be homeless again.

I was suddenly filled with shame and regret about ruining the opportunity Miss Daisy had given me and taking it for granted… all because I selfishly felt embarrassed about her diapering me after I made a mess.

I tried to start packing my things, but it was all too overwhelming. Instead, I just collapsed on the bed, sobbing and sobbing.

I lost track of time, until some minutes later, there was a knock on the door, startling me.

It was Miss Daisy, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. “Well, young lady? Why are you still in my home? You’ve been dismissed from your duties, remember?” She said.

I looked up with tearful eyes, covering my naked crotch, and began bawling.

“Please Miss Daisy!” I squealed. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have argued with you. Just please don’t kick me out! I promise I’ll be better from now on!”

Miss Daisy walked closer to me, folded her arms, looked down at me with her intimidating, powerful eyes. “Oh really? I’m supposed to believe that after the way you just behaved with me? Not to mention the way you just discarded the diaper that I not only paid for, but attentively put you in just minutes ago?”

“Please, Miss Daisy! I’ll do anything! Just please don’t kick me out!” I begged. “I promise, whatever you want, I’ll be extra good, I’ll work extra hard, I’ll even wear a diaper if you need me to, just please give me another chance!” I could hardly see, I was sobbing so hard.

Miss Daisy continued to stare down at me with her penetrating eyes. Until finally… she let out a long sigh and softened.

She sat down next to me and put her warm arm around me. “Okay, okay, there, there, sweetie. It’s okay. Nanny understands.”

“You do?” I asked, sniffling.

“Yes, I do,” Miss Daisy said. “I know how hard it can be when you’re just a little girl like you are. And your little brain is still developing, and you can’t control your peepees or clean up properly after your poopoos, but you want to feel like a big girl, so you act out when Nanny is trying to help you.”

I nodded, both deeply humiliated by the way she was talking about me like a toddler, but also somewhat relieved that she seemed to be coming around.

“Here’s what I think we can do if you’d like to give this another try,” Miss Daisy said. “Why don’t you spend the day getting to work, and tonight we’ll have another meeting to make sure we iron out any issues so you can continue to stay here in a way that works for both of us. And in the meantime, I’ll do what I can to help you start potty-training so you can wear big girl panties again.”

“Really?” I asked, wiping my snot on my hand.

“Really,” she said, giving me a tender squeeze.

“Okay, Miss Daisy,” I said in a sheepish tone. “Thank you.”

Miss Daisy smiled and gave me a kiss on the head, making me feel warm and special inside.

She then got to her feet and picked up the diaper I had discarded. “Now then, ready to be a good girl and keep your diapees on for Miss Daisy?” She asked.

“Okaaaay,” I said, relenting.

My face burned bright red as I laid back on my bed. Miss Daisy came over, untaped the diaper, and reapplied it to my waist.

She gave my thickly diapered crotch a tender pat and helped me sit up.

“There you go, all better. Let’s go downstairs and get you started for the day,” she said, helping me to my feet.

“Yes Miss Daisy,” I said, my cheeks still red hot.

I was deeply embarrassed by the thick diaper I was wearing between my legs, and the fact that I apparently wasn’t allowed to wear anything over it made it about ten times worse.

But also, strangely, the diaper now felt like a symbol of safety and comfort. Miss Daisy’s babying of me made me feel helpless, pathetic, small, and utterly humiliated on every level…

But the thick, white, crinkly, bulky, warm, cottony diaper around my crotch also meant that I was safe and that I was cared for.

As I followed Miss Daisy down to the kitchen, I reasoned that if the humiliation of wearing a diaper was the cost of shelter… it was a price I guess I just had to pay.

And as I ate a breakfast bagel that Miss Daisy had prepared for me… and got to work continuing to clean the childish playroom wearing only a diaper… I decided that maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

After all… it’s not like I actually had to *use* the diaper I was wearing. It’s not like I was *actually* being treated like a baby.

Of course, I had no idea then that my humiliating ordeal was just getting started…

______

Buy now to read the rest of this full length novella!

Buy on Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084BX24JB

[amor-litterae]

Increasingly, terrifyingly, expectedly

I am growing tired of being angry, tears hesitate down my cheeks.

I hadn’t expected to lose my friend as well.

I’ve spend my last few months absorbed in it all.

It’d become a silent part of me, it become apparent to me that this feeling had always been there

And I’m glad at least it hurt me and not you.

To be honest I’ve never been bold enough to think of a future, that is changing. My confidence flows and eebs like the moon. In recent months I’ve become cautiously creative, my hands took to writing.

My natural tool actually, I know whatever I’m not allowed to say would make its way into my notes soon enough. My voice took to screaming and singing, reawakening a tiny dream from an old part of me, a familiar doubt as well.

in the mess of it, I’d decided one thing, that I will try and not limit any potential I have. I will not take from myself that which is not needed.

A friend once told me something which stuck so indefinitely to me

“ you throw too much away, too quickly.

It doesn’t have to be perfect to be great

In fact you don’t even give it time to be “

In reality he was talking about art which I had deleted, but it struck me like lightning.

It didn’t matter who’d told me no or who had laughed their greatest insults at me back then…

It was now, and it would never been then again.

The greatest mistake is not even trying.

I’ve loved a lot in this life already. My family, my childhood friends, my childhood non-blood sister, my now non-blood sister, and on extension and as their own person my other one day non-blood sister in law, and her.

And how or if something has ended, it is not a stain on that love, it’s a memory. It’s common for hurt to drown out memory.

Like the memory of my grandmother going out of her way to make me my favourite food whenever I stayed, and too put on something for me to watch, praising my shitty computer art.

Or my parents who I’d scream and shout at clinging to doors, fearing the world outside. The same ones who encouraged me fowards, with every step and direction I took told me that they’d be proud of me, the ones who saw past my tears to something that could be great.

Or the girl who stopped singing at her own birthday party to let me sing, no matter how badly and simply smiled at me. The one who always apologised when she made me cry, the one who taught me how to warm up my voice, the one who’d recognise me anywhere.

My missing sister who bit back tears when she saw the gashes covering my arms but never once winced, the one who taught me how to ride a bike, create a world all my own, how to find something all my own

How to deal with loss.

My now sister who dragged me through my worst, who didn’t forgive me, but never turned her back, the one who sings with me, reminds me when my imagination is running a little too wild, the one who shares all she loves with me

And the sister in law I met because of her, the one who walked through the rain just to be a kid with me, who giggled and laughed with me through silly games, the one I always get lost with, but it doesn’t actually matter because when I’m with her it doesn’t feel like being lost.

And of course the one who softened me, who’s laughter I’d stayed up far to late into the night to hear, the one who found new ways to run her hands through my messy hair, the one I guarded and warmed with my life, one who pulled all sorts of pain and peace out of me.

These are all memories that stay with me, as I try.

Breathing hasn’t been easy lately, a bitter part of me hated admitting that, something ugly I’d buried but not defeated, I know who it came from, and I don’t blame her, I knew her life was hard and I knew I looked up to her far too much. But it was never right, pain gives you chances to confront parts of yourself you hide. So after sitting with all my ugliness I find no trouble in admitting that it’s been a path which is getting easier.

I’m coming more and more too terms with the feeling of being ‘ done ‘ hiding, there is an excitement that comes with stepping into a new world, and so I’ll learn, I’ll improve on what I already have, I’ll step out onto stage. Come 2025 I’ll step out into a new city, I’ll brave it.

My last few months have been something, they will bloom into something, I will be something more than I already am. This art I will not throw away.

(06/05/2024)

#writing nonsense

[fandomout]

heya! can i request lots of lip gallagher angst please? i love what you write and need him in my life </3

Thank you so much! I'm not sure when I'll be able to make more Lip angst or Lip fic's, but I'll be sure to try when I get an idea. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one. 💜

Lip Gallagher X Reader-Imagine trying to convince Lip that Helene, his professor, isn't the best thing for him, but he can't see the truth

Warning! Mentions of virginity and sex, but there is no actual smut. Slight fluff. Lots of Angst. Not sure if this has been done before. If it has, credit to them, and this is my version of it.

Smiles and laughs grace your best friend, Lip, and you can't help grin just because he seems happy. He tells you about his recent endeavors at college, specifically how he’s having the greatest adventures with his professor, Helene. When you 1st heard about this mysterious woman, you were initially livid, on the inside, of course. You wanted to know everything and nothing about her all at once. However, just like always you had to find a way within yourself to support Lip’s happiness. You always hold onto the friendship that’s graced the both of you with each other. Also, you couldn’t help internalizing Lip’s trauma's and emotions throughout the years. He deserved to go to school and become even greater than he already is, and although you couldn't always stomach the thought of him with someone else, you’d support that too to see him be loved. You were as it goes hopelessly devoted to Lip, so you hadn't really dated too much. Nothing could ever get serious when you’d hold him in your heart.

🖇

One day, you were at Lip’s dorm helping him clean up a bit when Lip seemed to really catch the fact that you'd apparently been single for “too long”. You scoffed at Lip and asked, “What’s that your business for?” He laughed at the comment and added, “I just want you to be happy. I mean we don’t get as much time these days. Me in college and with…” He smiled and looked off to space. You mouth her name as he says, “Helene.” You roll your eyes at it and shake your head and bitterly say, “I don’t need to be with someone to be happy.”

“I get that, but maybe you’d seem a little...a little...better?”

“Better?”

“You just seem a little down lately. Seeing as you won’t tell me what it’s about, I’m just trying to find an all around solution because I care.” His hand finding your shoulder.

”I’m doing fine, really. You're just so up in the clouds-”

“I want you up here too.” You sigh as the words are a rubber band to the heart as you wished he meant together...

“Lip, I don’t need someone.”

“It doesn't have to be serious. Just get laid.“ His insistent nature angers you to shout, “I can't! I’ve never-” You stop yourself too late. Your virginity has never been a topic of concern. You both just glossed over it. To you, it never seemed like Lip knew you hadn’t gotten that far, regardless, you never wanted it to be made so clear. Silence passed between you two before he started to laugh and said, “You’re fucking joking.” You looked down to your feet, which was when he actually believed your words. “No shit. No fucking way! You haven’t gotten laid yet!”

“Want to scream it out any louder! Shut the fuck up!” He laughed before he held his hands up in surrender.

“That’s crazy to me.”

“Of course it is. You bang anything that walks. Lip-”

“Even with any of your s/o’s, you never-”

“No! I'm a virgin. No big deal!”

“Yes. I just find it hard to believe nobody would try. Did they?”

“Maybe once or twice, and I shut them down.”

“Not good enough for you.”

“Something like that.”

“People are fucking stupid. You are hot, and it surprises me there aren't any more.”

“It's the story of my life.”

“What?”

“Getting overlooked.” You said simply before continuing to stack a book on a high shelf.

“Come on, that can’t be true.” He turns you toward him. “I see you unless I see dead people.”

“Haha.” You grin.

“I’m serious though. When you walk into the room, it’s brighter. Maybe you catch the attention of shy people. Maybe pay more attention?”

“Can we stop talking about it?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

🖇

You were on your way home late at night when you got a call from Lip. You answered and immediately thought it was a bit late.

“Hey!” He said a little off.

“Lip, what’s up?”

“Just need a drinking buddy.” You hear a bottle crash on his side of the phone.

“You doing okay there?”

“Yup! Having the bez time.”

“You already started drinking without me. Where are you?”

“I think I’m on campus on like a lawn-can’t remember which one.”

“I’ll be right there. Stay on the li-” He hung up. You jumped a fence and ran all over campus with no sign of him, and he wouldn't take you calls. You finally found him toward the back exit of the campus. He was swinging his body silly with heavy footsteps. You rushed over to support him. Immediately, he detached himself. A pout on his face with slumped shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” He laughs dryly.

“Come on, sit down.” You have him sit on the curb and wish you brought him a bottle of water or something. “What’s this about?”

“Helene...She’s married. She has a kid.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. This must be shocking to hear-”

“I already knew.”

“What do you mean you knew?”

“These past few...weeks? Weeks, I think, I knew. Hell, her husband watched us-Well, watched us fornicate.”

“Gross.” You couldn’t help but say. He shrugged at your reaction, not really being able to defend that truth. “You agreed to it?”

“I did, but I feel her pulling away now. I haven’t changed anything though.” He turns quickly toward me like he’d get whiplash. He points his finger to his chest and hits his chest aggressively as he says, “I’m me! I’m still giving her everything I have!...It leaves me in a funk.”

“You want to be with her that badly?”

“Yeah.”

“But, it doesn't feel so good.”

“Right.”

“You know why?”

“Yeah. I just said she has-”

“I didn’t mean the family thing.”

“Then, why?”

“You should try a relationship that’s more meaningful.”

“This is meaningful to me.”

“I meant a healthy meaningful.”

“Who are you to tell me?” He said it harshly.

“You’re right. I have no right to tell you what’s meaningful to you. You have to admit you're not in the best situation.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d rather have nothing than search for something. I think your standards are too high.”

“Trust me, they're not that high… Top 3 are honesty, communication, and trust.”

“Hmm ...You want to tell me something?” He smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m all three of those for you. I must be your dream guy.”

”You could be, except it wouldn’t happen obviously.”

“Are you sure about that?'' He found himself saying.

“Here we are talking about your women, I’m sure...” You bite at your lip. Your thoughts stop when you see a few tears branching out of his eyes. You comb your hand through his hair. As he looked for more comfort, he wanted to lay down. You convinced him to let you get him to his dorm. He allowed you that, and he cried himself to sleep on your lap. He snuggled into your leg while you rubbed his back. You’d already had a distaste for Helene, but now you really couldn't stand her. She’d been fooling Lip, and she still had the power to keep going along with it.

🖇

After the incident, Lip wanted to act like it didn’t happen. He had told you that they were working on it. He even said it might be the closest thing to a relationship he’s had. You wanted to be there for him, but you had to admit you couldn't support this harm. There is a difference in this case to supporting him. You didn’t want to be a part of any longer. You kept quiet about it initially since she’d only done “one” wrong by him, according to Lip. He talked to you less and less it seemed after it. You tried your best, but something always seemed to come up. You’d get calls from Ian or Fiona that he’s drinking a lot which worries you and hasn't attempted AA when they think it's becoming a big issue. Finally, you confronted Lip on the street.

“I can't talk now.” He said. You didn’t let him push past you and stated, “No. You are not ditching me once again. You have stuff going on. It probably has to do with that woman-”

“Helene. That's none of your business.”

“None of my business?” You look at the bag under his eyes. He reeked of alcohol on his disheveled clothes. “She’s ruining you, but that’s none of my business? What happened this time?” He took out a cigarette and lit it before he sniffed and gave you a side smirk.

“I just maybe happened to beat up her son after I thought she cheated on me with him. Isn't that funny?” He giggled and hiccupped.

“Why were you upset? You were fine when she had a husband to cheat on you with.”

“That was different. Anyway, I see you’re upset about the lack of time I’ve been spending with you, but I can fix it. Let go for a drink.'' He put his arm around your shoulder and was probably leading you to Kev and V’s. You removed the arm and snapped, “What you need is some water. You’ve had enough.”

“What do you mean I haven’t drunk today?”

“Tell that to your breath and clothes. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“I think this conversation is stupid and remember why I was trying not to talk to you.”

“You did it on purpose?”

“I just knew you’d get all worried for nothing.”

“For nothing? She’s not good for you to begin with. Lip” You hold his hand and softly say, “Lip, She was your professor and married.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“Lip-”

“I love her! She sure is a hell of a lot better than the ones telling me otherwise. You have no right to judge me. Take a look at yourself!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You go around pining for me in hope someday you’ll be the one. You’re pathetic! You can’t be the one because Helene was! She is! You’re single because no one wants you! You try to act so high and mighty! If you're so great and talented, leave! You’re useless around here! You fucking suffocating me with your supposed love and care! Thanks so much for it! You-”

”Stop!...I get it. You don’t want me around. Get some help from a sponsor and go to the AA meetings.” Tears began to pour, and you sniffled. “You wouldn’t want to lose and hurt someone you actually care about.” As he saw your tears and hurt, he sobered up slightly and said, “Wait-” You quickened your steps to get away as fast as possible. He tried to follow after, but his drunken body wouldn't allow it as he reached forward and fell right on his ass. "Fuck!"

Hope your day got better

Part 2 Lip realizes his mistake

Lip Gallagher Masterlist

Full Masterlist

#lip gallagher #lipgallagherimagines #lip gallagher preference #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fluff #shamelessimagine #shameless x reader #shameless preferences #shameless masterlist #imagine #preference #reader insert #reader imagine #x reader #fluff #One shot #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher one shot #angst #lip gallagher angst

[heliads]

Can you do an imagine about Derek hale inspired by wolves by Selena Gomez. Also I love your images so much you always do exactly what I imagine

aww thank you so much! also that song is SO derek hale

masterlist

You first met Derek Hale when you were trying to break into his house, and it is just as bad as it sounds. Technically, you weren’t alone, but that doesn’t make it any better. Besides, having Stiles Stilinski encourage you to steal something should probably tell you that you’re on the wrong side.

Here’s the plan: Derek Hale has a list of suspected hunters somewhere in his house. Scott McCall needs the list so he can figure out who’s been shooting at him, and also how not to reveal himself in a town that could be potentially crawling with people who all want to kill him. So, Scott’s going to go distract Derek while you and Stiles go try and find the list before Derek gets suspicious. What could go wrong?

Just about everything, as it turns out. You’ve scarcely been searching for twenty minutes when Scott frantically texts you. Apparently Derek suspected him almost immediately, and is headed back to his house now. You swear under your breath, sprinting from the room you’re searching to go find Stiles. You’re on the second floor, he’s on the first, and all it takes is a couple of shouts for your friend to realize that something is wrong.

It’s too late for an escape, though. Derek’s car is already pulling up outside the house, and by the time you make it down the stairs, he’ll see you through the burned-out windows of the Hale House. Instead, you yell for Stiles to take the back door. You’ll have to find some way out without Derek noticing you.

You turn and run back into the room you were in, scanning for windows that you could use to climb out to the ground. One towards the back hasn’t been damaged too badly, and looks sturdy enough to hold your weight. Through the gaping hole in the splintery sides of the house, you can just see the distant shape of Stiles sprinting through the back yard and disappearing into the woods. At least he’s out; you only wish that you could have found that list of the hunters and at least made this whole trip justifiable, but there’s no time for that now.

You can hear the front door opening, and you know you’ve got to go, now. You reach for the window and prepare to pull yourself through, yet there’s a voice behind you, one that sounds cold and menacing.

“What are you doing in my house?”

You turn around slowly to face a rather irritated looking Derek Hale. This isn’t great.

However, if there’s anything you’ve learned from years as one of Stiles Stilinski’s best friends, it’s that you can bluff yourself out of anything if you try hard enough. So, you do your best for an unassuming expression, and make sure to keep yourself calm.

“Just looking around, I guess. Nice property you’ve got here. Although I will admit that the whole ‘distressed wood’ look might have been taken a little too far.”

Derek arches a brow. “Could that have been because of the fire that ravaged the place and killed my entire family?”

You wince. “Yeah, that might do it.”

Derek makes a sound that might almost be a laugh, and then he steps forward, slowly, as if enjoying your heightened sense that something is about to go terribly wrong. “You weren’t looking for that list of the hunters, then? Like Scott was asking about?”

You back up in time with Derek’s steps, but you can only go so far before your back is up against the wall. He stops only a foot or so in front of you, close enough that you don’t think you could move a muscle if you tried.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Derek nods slowly. “You know there’s no point in lying anymore? I can tell when you do.”

He reaches out a hand to tap the side of your throat, right where you can feel your heartbeat thundering. “Any werewolf can hear when somebody lies, and you’ve been doing it since you got here.”

His hand lingers on the side of your neck as if to prove a point, and then he removes it. You’re not sure whether you can breathe easier then, or if the look in his eyes keeps you from ever returning to normal.

In your eyes, there's a heavy blue

One to love and one to lose

“Alright, then. Yeah, we need the names. Are you going to cling to your pride enough to keep the hunters to yourselves, and let the rest of us go out into the city knowing full well we could get killed because we don’t know who those hunters are? It’s not like we’re asking you to do anything, just not hide them from us.”

It’s a little too big of a gamble, and you know it. By all rights, Derek should be furious at you for breaking into his house, and make good on those threats he keeps telling Stiles about ripping people’s throats out. You coming in here and telling him what to do isn’t exactly the best move in a situation like this.

Yet, to your surprise, Derek actually does smile this time. “You know what, I like you, Y/N. You’re less annoying than the others.”

High compliments, but he keeps going before you can comment on that. “I’m going to give you the list, and you’re going to tell Scott and Stiles that if they send anyone else into my house, even pretty girls like you, I won’t be nearly as kind the next time.”

You stare at him, confused, as Derek retrieves a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and puts it into your hand, carefully folding your fingers around it. “Why would you help us?”

He smirks. “Like you said, I’m not helping you with anything. Just hoping to find some mutual ground.”

Derek nods once at you, then turns and leaves. You’re left staring at his retreating form, wondering just what you’ve gotten yourself into. According to Scott and Stiles, Derek Hale is a complete cold killer, capable of inspiring fear into Jackson and just about anyone else. Yet here he is, smiling at you and calling you pretty. Sometimes, the world doesn’t make any sense at all.

The smart thing would have been to turn and leave Derek just as he left that day, to never associate with him unless you absolutely had to do so. However, you can’t seem to leave him alone. Maybe he keeps finding you in crowded rooms and lonely nights, maybe you’ve taken up his offer of a ride home one too many times. The point is, you’re not sure that you want to leave him, not at all.

I wanna feel the way that we did that summer night, night

Drunk on a feeling, alone with the stars in the sky

Derek just works, that’s the only thing about it. His voice echoes in your thoughts, reminding you of late-night conversations, the type you’ve only ever had with him. Derek makes you feel utterly safe and completely at risk at the same time, the kind of rush you only get from jumping off a cliff with merely the skyline to guide you. He’s a thrill, and a damn good one too, and no matter how many times your friends warn you to stay away from Derek Hale, you never listen.

It would be one thing if it was just you, but it isn’t, not at all. Derek never talks to people, but he keeps seeking you out, keeps offering to drive you places as if he’s got nowhere better to be except by your side. And, when Scott finally realized that Derek’s far kinder to you than anyone else and sent you to negotiate with him, you ended up spending the entire time pressed against him. As it turns out, Derek’s dark stare isn’t nearly as cold when he’s kissing you.

I've been running through the jungle

I've been running with the wolves

To get to you, to get to you

It’s good, to say the least. You sneak away from your house late at night to see him, you pay little attention to your own head when it means letting your heart run free. You don’t trust many people in this town, especially when they all seem to hate your friends for their fangs and claws, but you trust Derek, and that is enough for you.

You don’t entirely know what your friends think about it. They don’t trust Derek as much as you do, but they also don’t know Derek like you do. Still, when Scott first gets word that Derek’s in trouble, the first person that he goes to is you. Maybe they suspect something after all, or maybe they can tell from the look in your eyes alone that something’s there if you’d be willing to sell your soul to keep him safe.

I've been down the darkest alleys

Saw the dark side of the moon

To get to you, to get to you

Here is the situation: Derek was trying to investigate a group of hunters. He’d heard rumors that a few weapons dealers were meeting, hoping to strike a deal and get more wolfsbane weaponry in the town. Obviously, he didn’t want that to happen, so he went to put a stop to it.

The only problem was that the meeting was a ploy, and when Derek went to investigate, the only things he found were a dozen or two hunters with weapons drawn, ready to put an end to him. He managed to put up a good fight, but they took him to one of their hideouts to try and interrogate him for the locations of more werewolves. You don’t have to worry about Derek revealing Scott and his friends because Derek would rather die than give away anything, but that is precisely why you are absolutely, utterly terrified for him.

Scott barely says the address of the place they’re keeping Derek before you’re setting off, ready to go rescue your boyfriend. He tells you to be careful, that he’s planning to rescue Derek soon enough, but soon enough isn’t good enough for you. You need him now, you need him safe. There is no option in which you let him go.

You leave to find Derek at night. There’s a section in the Beacon Hills Preserve where all werewolves have been expressly warned not to go, it’s where the hunters like to meet when they don’t want anyone noticing them. This is exactly where you’re going now, carrying enough weapons to keep you alive.

I've looked for love in every stranger

Took too much to ease the anger

All for you, yeah, all for you

You stumble upon the hunters soon enough. They’ve got Derek tied to the trunk of a large tree, and his bonds are likely covered in wolfsbane, judging by the pain radiating off of him in waves. Then again, that could also be due to the literal torture being inflicted upon him. Derek doesn’t appear to have revealed anything, though, as the hunters look furious. You’re proud of him for that, but also so angry at the pain he’s in that all rational thought flees your mind.

The hunters look surprised when you first walk into the clearing. One walks towards you, holding up a hand as if he can stop you from seeing what’s going on.

“Hey, sweetheart, this is private property. You’re going to need to leave.”

Derek’s head had been hanging against his chest, but he looks up when he hears the hunter address you. The flash of genuine fear in his eyes is far stronger than anything before, even when he was certain that the hunters were about to kill him.

He doesn’t have to worry about you, though. The anger and adrenaline in your chest could make you more powerful than even the toughest of the supernaturals.

“Don’t worry about me. I have a feeling that I’m going to be just fine.”

The hunter frowns, confused, but even his sudden wariness isn’t enough to give him enough time to react when you pull a gun from beneath your waistband and fire it directly into his chest. It’s a dart gun, because even though you’re full of justifiable fury Allison Argent still doesn’t trust you enough to give you a legitimate weapon, which is probably for the best.

Still, the other hunters aren’t ready for it, and look at the body of their fallen friend in shock and horror. He’ll wake up in a few hours, but they don’t need to know that. You fire another few shots and manage to take down about half a dozen more hunters before they start charging towards you.

They still aren’t ready, though, anticipating some sort of useless schoolgirl who’s only seen fighting in movies. However, the second you knew that there were hunters in town, you started getting Allison to train you in self defense and basic combat. Had to be useful, right? And it is now. You’re able to hold your own long enough for the rest of the reinforcements to arrive; namely, Scott and his other werewolf friends. You may have wanted to rescue Derek as soon as possible, but that didn’t mean you were going to rush into danger alone. That would only be for the first couple of minutes.

The second you’re clear of hunters in your immediate vicinity, you race over to Derek, untying his bonds as fast as he can. He stands, rubbing his wrists to clear his skin of any remaining wolfsbane. Around you, the hunters are fleeing, terrified of what is surely going to happen to them if they stick around any longer.

“You shouldn’t have come, Y/N. They could have killed you.”

You shake your head. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you die like this. I know the risks, Derek, but I need you more.”

He raises a hand to touch your cheek, as if checking to make sure that you’re real. “And how would I have been able to live with myself if I watched you die trying to save me?”

He pulls you to his chest, and you let your head rest in the space against his collarbone. “I would be selfish and say that as long as you were alright it would be okay. I’m not leaving you, Derek, and I know you’re not leaving me. No matter what.”

Derek smiles at last, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Always. Anything for you, okay?”

That’s how it’s going to be, you think. You and Derek until forever. It doesn’t matter how far you have to run, how long you have to fight. As long as you have him, you have everything.

I've been running through the jungle

I've been crying with the wolves

To get to you, to get to you

All for you, yeah, all for you

teen wolf taglist: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore

#derek hale #derek hale imagines #derek hale x reader #derek hale oneshot #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf oneshot #teen wolf derek #teen wolf derek imagines #teen wolf derek x reader #teen wolf derek oneshot #teen wolf derek hale #teen wolf derek hale imagines #teen wolf derek hale x reader #teen wolf derek hale oneshot

[x-reader-writer]

Hii can I request for Peter parker x male reader.

The reader is taller than him, dominant and has piercings, and peter comes out to the avengers as bi and tells them that he has a boyfriend. They're sceptical first but then they see peter sitting on readers lap and them being affectionate and sweet and laughing at jokes they make.

If this contains anything that makes you uncomfortable pls ignore this.

Thank uuu.

A/N: Hi!! Of course you can. I don't do nsfw posts, but I can make the reader seem more confident to fill that gap!

Sorry it's taken so long!! I hope this is alright!

I'm coming out

Pairing: Peter Parker x Male! Reader

~~~~~

"Baby, it's gonna be okay."

"But what if it's not! What if they yell, or they hate me, or Mr. Stark wants to never see me again, or-"

You quickly grab your boyfriend's hands to stop him from talking. "Babe, none of that will happen," you say calmly, with a gentle tone. "Do you know why? It's because they're decent people who adore you, Pete, just like I do."

"You think so?" Peter asks nervously, blushing from the compliment from his partner.

"I know so," you reply, a gentle smile gracing your face.

~~~~~

Peter was stood in the elevator, his foot anxiously tapping on the slightly metallic flooring. He lets out a long, deep breath, trying to control his anxiety.

The doors then open, on the penthouse of the Avengers Tower (formerly Stark Tower). Peter steps out and looks around the common room.

All of the Avengers were sat on the sofas and little chairs, lounging around and watching a Disney movie. Peter was amused slightly as he saw that Bucky was sat on Sam's lap as a joke (Peter could tell he just wanted to sit there-).

Peter then quietly clears his throat. It wasn't the best idea, as the movie was playing quite loudly, so nobody could hear him. He takes a deep breath and then loudly cough.

Everyone in the room jumps, even causing Tony to make his popcorn go flying. Everyone looks over at the teen, who nervously rubs his arm.

"Oh hey, Pete," Tony says, picking up a handful of his popcorn that had landed on his lap. "What're you doing here? It's not Friday yet."

"Sorry about scaring you all," Peter says quickly. He then replies to his mentor saying, "Yeah, sorry about coming earlier than expected Mr. Stark, but I wanted to talk to you. To you all."

"What is it, son?" Steve asks, smiling gently at the teen (no, Peter isn't actually his son, Steve's just old). Peter stays looking awkward and nervous, so he encourages, "It's okay, we're here for whatever it is, Peter."

"I'm bisexual," Peter blurts out. The room goes silent. He then quietly mumbles, "And I have a boyfriend."

Peter grips at his arm tightly waiting for some type of reaction, the silence dragging on.

"No," is the first thing said after minutes of silence. Unsurprisingly, it was Steve who had said this. Peter had kind of expected him and Bucky to react slightly badly towards this as they were from a different time period where they didn't accept gay people.

Peter then feels hope as he sees Tony going to say something. However it is shattered when the words 'I'm sorry Pete, but bisexuality isn't a thing' come out of his mentors mouth.

"What?" Peter whimpers, taking a step back in surprise and hurt.

"Tony, that's a bit harsh," Natasha says, glaring at the man. She then looks at Peter with a straight face and states, "However, that doesn't mean that you are Bisexual. You're just confused and need to find the right girl for you."

Peter shakes his head and turns back around to leave the penthouse, ignoring the calls from the avengers, especially the shouts and demands to come back and to stop being stupid.

~~~~~

Peter was sat in your lap, crying into your shoulder. You were gently shushing him and smoothing his hair, whispering in his ear it was okay.

"I'm really sorry, Petey, I pushed you into this-"

"It's not your fault," Peter replies, sniffling as he wiped his nose.

"And it's not yours either," you reply, gently poking his chest to prove your point. "They were wrong to say that and do that to you, I'm glad I was here waiting for you so you could come to me. Otherwise, I don't know what would have happened."

Peter nods and sniffles, wiping his nose with his hand. You chuckle softly and grab a tissue from your pocket (what? Peter cried a lot, you liked to be prepared!) and hand it to him with a smile. He smiles back at you and blows his nose.

"Better, Dumbo?" You ask, teasing him with the name.

Peter giggles and says, "Better, n/n."

You grin and then say, "uh oh, I see someone coming.." Peter looks at you confused, but you simply raise your hands slowly. Peter pales slightly before squealing and trying to get away from you as you start tickling his sides. He laughs and giggles, kicking and squirming on your lap. "Tickle monster!"

After a few minutes, Peter's sad tears had turned into tears of laughter. So you stopped and smirked at him as he was still laughing and blushing from the tickle 'fight'.

You lean down and kiss his nose, which makes him blush gently. then you start kissing all over his face, making him a blushing mess.

"Ksh, mission complete boys, ksh," you state, pretending you had a Walkie talkie, making Peter giggle at you and move up to cuddle up to you. You grin and gently smooth his back.

"And who are you?" A male voice says, interrupting the peaceful atmosphere between the two.

You look up and glare at the group who had approached you. The Avengers. The ones who hurt your boyfriend.

"What do you want?"

"We heard from security there was a random guy sat here, so we came to see who you were, and then we saw you touching up Peter," Clint says, glaring at you.

"Excuse me?" You state, shocked at what he had said, as you had hardly even touched your boyfriend, only holding his head and hugging him.

"Who. Are. You?" Bucky says, getting angry.

"I'm Y/n L/n, aka, Peter's boyfriend," you growl. You then hold Peter gently as you pull him closer, feeling extra protective over him as everyone starts yelling their complaints and how much they disagreed.

"What on Midgard is going on here?" You hear a booming voice call out.

Both you and Peter look over first. You see that the owner of the voice was Thor Odinson, next to him was stood a very pissed looking Loki.

"I think we both know what is happening here, brother," Loki replies, a muscle in their forehead spasming, almost comically. You would have found it amusing if not for the situation at hand.

Tony replies to Thor's question, ignoring Loki had said anything, "Peter is apparently 'Bisexual' and this random guy is his 'boyfriend'. I'm thinking he's a hydra agents and has brainwashed-"

"Enough!" Thor yells, glaring at Tony and the group. "How dare you make rude comments about these poor boys! Bisexuality is a common thing among Asgardians, Loki himself is one! Bisexuality is common amongst many things, even the animals on your own planet are bisexual, gay or any of the other LGBTQ community! You should not slander such a group, especially as they are such a huge quantity of the population, and not only of this planet or your species!"

The room was silent, even you included.

Loki walks over to Peter and gently pat's his head, their face soft and a gentle smile was placed upon their lips. "You are the Peter child, yes?" The brunette nods at the god, who smiles more in return. "Here is a little secret of my own that I've been keeping from everyone, that I shall share. It will mean that I'm joining you in, as Midgardians say, 'coming out'."

Loki then turns to the group and says, "I have something to say too. I, myself, am genderfluid. And I identify as a female today."

The room is silent again.

"I have a sister!" Thor says excitedly, picking Loki up and twirling her around. Loki smiles, happy Thor had accepted her.

"Woah, that's so cool, Ms. Loki!" Peter squeals, smiling brightly. "Oh wait, do you still want to be called that?"

"Yes, Loki is perfectly fine, child" she replies, smiling back.

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