#it says he has a 'long running feud' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lesbian-for-arthur-morgan · 11 months

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Middle Class Lady Who has the Gang Sneak in Her Window

"The gang falling for a woman of a higher class and a father that doesn't approve of them so they usually sneak through their window to be together" @livingdeadgirly

Genre: Fluff - some angst if you squint (Fem Reader uses she/her pronouns) Featuring: Arthur, John, Dutch, Javier, Charles, Sean, and Sadie Warnings: Mentions of guns, outlaw type of stuff

AN: I'm so sorry these took me forever to write! if some of them seem a little out of character please ignore it and pretend they aren't :D ---> Requests are open! Check out my guidelines if you have any questions

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Arthur Morgan:

Your father owned his own saloon which gave him an incredible insight into the type of men who frequented his establishment. He thought of this as a blessing once you started growing older and wishing to be courted, he could keep an ear out for anyone that he deemed unworthy for you.

Unsurprisingly, anyone who frequented the bar was not someone your father wanted anywhere near you. Especially when it came to an outlaw by the name of Arthur Morgan. The two of them had a long-standing feud (actually it was your father who hated Arthur and Arthur was too busy being infatuated with you to notice).

The first time Arthur was seen speaking to you in front of the saloon, your father came barreling through the doors to usher you inside. He instructed you to never speak to him again. Of course you didn’t listen.

Months go by and Arthur has made an extreme effort to get as close to you as he can without your father’s knowledge. The two of you will just so happen to go to the same general store at the same time every Friday by ‘accident’, you just so happen to run into him when you take your horse for a little trail ride to exercise, and every once in a while you both somehow end up behind the theater at on show nights by some strange chance of fate.

After a while, you’re so sick of having to keep your interactions short and sweet and secret in the public eye (lest anyone witness it and run off to tattle to your father). You write a quick letter to Arthur one day asking him to meet you at the side of your house at midnight.

When he gets there and you’re nowhere to be found he’s beyond confused; it’s not until he hears a sharp whistle and looks up to see you waving at him from your second story window that he understands your plan.

“The things I do for you, woman.” He grumbles with a smile and begins hoisting himself up the tree conveniently located right by the window.

You’ve already got the window open as he reaches the top and you begin helping him crawl inside. Now Arthur is a large, bulky man he isn’t exactly as nimble as he might have been once upon a time. You can barely contain your giggles as he lumbers into the room ungracefully and nearly face-plants into the rug on your floor.

“I ain’t had to do this since I was a boy,” He smiles down at you once he steadies himself as you grin up at him widely.

“You’re still young enough to climb through a lady’s window yet, Mr. Morgan.” You tease.

It’s the first time the two of you have ever truly been alone since you met and the tension in the air is palpable. Arthur looks between you and your carefully cleaned and decorated bedroom, then down at his dirty boots on your rug and worn denim pants. He was the complete opposite of you - he didn’t deserve to ruin your space with his grimy life and clothes.

“What you thinking about, Cowboy?” You place a hand on his cheek and turn his head to make him look back at you. He’d confess a few of his doubts, not trusting himself to tell you that he doesn’t deserve you flatout, and you’d shake your head and lead him over to your bed and have him sit down.

You’d kiss him and quiet his thoughts, allowing your actions to say more than words ever could and from that moment on he’d find himself climbing up a tree every other night.

Your father didn’t figure it out ever, even though Arthur and you were hardly ever quiet.

John Marston:

You were the most beautiful person that John had ever seen in his entire life. You were walking in the middle of town with some man nearly twice your age and John figured you were married to him - some lady victim to a man with money and a ring.

John fantasized about swooping you into his arms and saving you from a life of excruciating monotony. He’d tell the old man to kick the bucket, maybe rob him of whatever cash and valuables he had on him, and let you live your life free with him.

When he overheard you refer to the man as your father John felt absolutely giddy. He took his hat off and tried to smooth his hair down as he moved to approach you and introduce himself.

Your father watched the outlaw walk up to the two of you with a skeptical eye. He was hoping the cowboy would walk past you, but he stopped right before you and held out his hand to you. “John Marston, Miss….?” He prompted.

Your father shut it down immediately. He was so incredibly unamused that he stepped between you and John and shoved his arm down. He told John to basically get lost, but John ignored him and kept his eyes on you.

It was like love at first sight.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his and couldn’t hide the growing blush that heated your cheeks as he ever-so-slightly smiled at you. A small smile that disappeared as your father demanded his attention.

“Now son you get out of here before I get angry. I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter, you got that?”

John wanted to laugh at his vague threat. Who did this guy think he was? John put both hands up to show he meant no harm and took a few steps back.

“Didn’t mean nothing by it, sir,” He shrugged, “Was just being friendly.”

Your father scoffed saying he didn’t want any of John’s kindness and neither would you. You caught John’s eye while your father was speaking and mouthed ‘sorry’ with a sweet smile.

John was smitten immediately. He may seem like a big tough outlaw, but the guy is secretly a huge soft romantic. He was already envisioning your wedding and the type of house you two would build together in the middle of the prairie where no one would bother you and you could leave your respective lives.

He may have been getting ahead of himself.

Your father dragged you away and into the general store, John went off to finish a few more errands. He didn’t think he’d actually ever see you again until the moment he went back to his horse to ride back to camp.

He felt a quick tap on his shoulder and there you were looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

From that moment on the two of you had to meet in secret - away from the watchful eye of your father. John took to sneaking in your bedroom anytime he got the inclination to see you (which was a daily occurrence tbh).

He’d take a stroll around the house to make sure your father’s room lights were off and see if yours were on and you were still awake. Due to his frequent visits, you were always up late waiting for him to call on you.

It was all fun and games until he’s waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to climb back out of your window before your father woke up to find him lounging in your bed. That would be a messy scene.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

Dutch thought he was too old to have to worry about meeting parents and getting the approval to see the lady he fancied. He was an old dog; he liked younger women of course but never the type who were of a higher social standing than him and needed that.

Then he met you.

You swooped into his life with your pretty dresses and sweet words and you didn’t want him at all at first. It made him want you even more.

It’s no secret that rich men are corrupt and willing to meet with anyone to make a quick buck. Your father met with Dutch to provide some intel about a train full of valuables and treasures that were interesting to both parties involved. Your dad wanted a cut of what was on that train provided the Van Der Linde gang robbed it.

Your father wasn’t a good man. He enjoyed money a little too much, and saw you as property more than his daughter. He was overprotective of you - to the point that he refused to ever let you out of his sight for even a second.

You went to every meeting between the two men and at first didn’t give a damn about Dutch. You thought he was handsome, but not the type of man you’d ever be interested in. Not until your father warned you to stay away from men like that.

He even went so far as to comment that he didn’t like the way Dutch looked at you. It fueled something inside of you. The idea of rebelling in such a way. Dutch was attractive, he had money, an exciting life, and most of all it would piss your father off if you courted the gang leader.

The next time there was a meeting between the three of you, you bat your eyelashes and laughed at Dutch’s jokes a little too hard.

Dutch bid you farewell by kissing the knuckles on your hand, and you loved the way your father basically had smoke coming out his ears at the action.

Your father didn’t bring you with him the next time he went to a meeting with Dutch. He locked you in your room, and only unlocked the door to check on you before bed that night.

You were pouting and writing a long sob-story in your diary when you heard a soft tap on the glass of your window.

You pulled back your blinds to see Dutch crouching in the dirt by your window with a wicked grin on his face.

“Can I come in, Darlin’?” He cooed with a sweet voice. You opened your window immediately and he ducked through the frame.

“You didn’t come with your father today, he said you didn’t want to attend the meetings anymore.”

You explain that you’ve basically been kept a prisoner in your room all day since your dad was convinced Dutch was trying to steal you away from him. You grumble out a few curse words after you explain and roll your eyes.

“What if I am tryin’ to steal you away?” Dutch whispered, his eyes dark and sparkling in the lamp light. You didn’t realize how pretty he was.

You bite your lip and smile, trying to keep on a tough act at his words. It’s no use, though. He’s charming, it’s why he is who he is.

“Maybe I’d let you,” You reply in a sultry low tone.

That’s all Dutch needed to hear. He helped you pack a small bag of items to bring with you and he brought you back to the camp where the gang was staying.

On your bed, you left a note telling your father you were running off with a man. Shortly after that Dutch mailed out a post saying he didn’t want to do business with your father anymore. It was all settled.

He stole you away to join him at camp, and that’s where you stayed.

Javier Escuella:

You met Javier by chance one night when you were being harassed by a local lawman after a night out at the theater. Javier rushed to the alley when he heard your shouts ordering the man to stay away from you.

Javier saw red and let his instincts take over him. He grabbed the man by the collar of his very nice shirt and used it to throw him to the mud.

“The lady asked you nicely to leave her alone. Now, I won’t be so nice if I have to ask. So, tell me, do I have to be the one to request you leave her alone?”

The man scrambled in the mud, splattering it on his dress pants and coat, as he picked himself up and ran away.

Javier introduced himself and offered to walk you home. You were a little wary of him at first, what with the guns at his belt and the knife at his thigh, but he assured you that he was not a threat. He just didn’t want you risking getting harassed again on your journey to your house.

You took him up on his offer and as he dropped you off at your front door you gave him a quick, shy peck on the cheek and asked if he wouldn’t mind coming to visit again in the future.

Javier is a blushing bumbling mess but somehow finds the words to agree and see you again later on in the week.

From that point on, this man spoils you in every possible way. He brings you flowers, fine pelts, jewelry (don’t ask where he got it), and little poems he writes or likes just so that you have a little piece of his heart.

Does your father care about all of that? No. He just cares about Javier’s status as an outlaw, a killer. He’s heard the rumors about the Van Der Linde Gang and he refuses to allow one of the members anywhere near you.

Javier is willing to do anything to see you, though.

You started leaving your windows perched open during the warm summer nights, and a low whistle alerted you to a person sitting right outside the glass. Your curtains were fluttering slightly with the wind and so all you saw was the shadow of a figure causing your mind to think of the worst scenarios possible.

You drew a knife from your vanity and clasped it in your hand ready to call for your father, but you heard a familiar voice lowly call out.

“Mi amor?”

You let out a sigh of relief and pulled the curtains back fully to see Javier smiling at you with a bouquet of wild flowers in his hands. “I wanted to see you and I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You asked him to wait outside while you barricaded your bedroom door with a stool, then opened the window wider for him to duck inside.

At first he didn’t really know what to do with himself, he planned to give you the flowers and have a quick kiss before needing to leave - he did not expect you to usher him inside.

You took the flowers from his hands and placed them on your dresser next to the box of trinkets and gifts Javier has given you before.

You sit on your bed and make a spot for him to sit beside you. He isn’t really sure what the gentlemanly thing to do is in that situation, but just to be safe he sits on the floor by your feet. He’s gazing up at you as if you were the moon itself and doesn’t even try to hide the way his breathing quickens every time your eyes meet.

It becomes routine for him to visit you nearly every night and wait for you to barricade your door before allowing him in. Eventually he gets more comfortable and feels better about sitting next to you on your bed - though he knows it was not the proper thing to do.

He really wanted to court you the proper way, but with your father being so hesitant to know him outside of his status he had to be a little lenient on conventional courting methods.

Charles Smith:

Charles has been sneaking into your room for years.

You were childhood sweethearts, but your father had hated the relationship from the moment you expressed any sort of soft feelings for the boy.

When he first started sneaking in, it was just because your father didn’t want you to be friends. You and Charles were inseparable, so he’d sneak in when he could to read your books and play with your toys while your father was at work.

As you grew older, your feelings grew too.

You developed a strong crush on Charles and he was completely oblivious to it. At first, since you didn’t know how to express your feelings, you pushed him away and told him to stop visiting you.

Charles was crushed when you essentially told him to get lost. He couldn’t understand what caused your change of heart - he figured maybe your father had finally gotten to you and you realized you were too rich, too pretty to be his friend.

Charles stopped climbing through your bedroom windows and started only seeing you in public spaces or whenever you took your horse out for a ride.

Eventually, though, even those interactions dwindled and Charles stopped seeing you altogether.

It broke you when you didn’t speak with Charles anymore. You thought it better that way. He couldn’t find out your feelings for him - especially since you were certain he didn’t feel the same way.

Years go by, you stop seeing Charles even in fleeting moments. You heard he ran off and was living alone in the wilderness.

It was your fault, you thought. You pushed him away during his time of need and now there was no way of knowing what became of him. Whether he was alive or dead.

You grow older, your heart growing cold and calloused, and you never really recovered from the hurt you put yourself through.

One night, you’re a passenger on a train taking you deeper into the west of America when there was a loud commotion at one end of the passenger car you were in.

You put down your novel and see a group of masked men with weapons demanding valuables from every patron they pass by. They were slowly moving down the aisle, approaching where you were sitting at an alarmingly fast pace. You couldn’t think of a way out of the situation without giving away every last bit of money you had on you.

That is, until one of the masked men gets to you and instead of the harsh demands and pointed threats you expected to hear, you hear your name being whispered softly.

You look up, skin ablaze with fear and eyes watering. Through your tears you can see a familiar set of dark brown eyes peering down at you as if you were a ghost.

“Ch…Charles?” You squint. You questioned if it was just a mirage, a trick of your brain due to fear, but there was no doubting it. Those were Charles’ eyes.

He softly grabbed you by the arm and helped you out of your seat.

“Come with me,” He whispered as he pushed you through the aisle towards the exit. “I promise nothing will happen to you.”

It was stupid, but you blindly agreed as he led you out of the train and onto the dusty earth.

Charles and you caught up as the rest of his posse finished robbing the passengers of the train. You learned that he had been taken in by the Van Der Linde gang and was making a living as an outlaw. After seeing what you did on the train, that part of his story checked out.

You caught up with him as well, you informed him of your father’s fate and how his will left everything to you. How you regretted pushing him away as a teenager and how you wished he could forgive you.

“I never even hated you for it,” He said softly, “There is nothing to forgive, it’s how the world is sometimes. Cruel.”

You tried to explain your feelings at the time, but the embarrassment of it never let you fully explain.

Charles offered to take you home, but you wanted nothing more than to continue catching up with him and learning about his new life, his new family. Charles took you back to camp, and you ended up staying there with him for a few weeks. (For a fee of course, as Dutch had so cleverly thought up)

Your feelings for Charles rose to the surface once again, and you weren’t sure when or if there would ever be a time to explain how madly in love with him you were.

Sean MacGuire:

The first time y’all met was when he was sneaking through your window late one night.

Dutch had given Sean a vague plan about robbing a local lawmaker’s house while the man was scheduled to be two towns over for some political business. Dutch figured it would be a quiet, simple mission to grab some extra loot and not worry about being caught.

Sean paced around your house a few times after midnight the day your father left, and when he didn’t see any lights on or movements he figured it was safe to go in.

He checked a few key points of entry, but the windows on the ground-floor were locked and he didn’t want to risk leaving any evidence of there being a break-in for when the lawmaker came back.

Sean noticed that a window on the second floor was open the tiniest sliver, he’d be able to use a dagger to wedge it open wide enough to slip his hand in and open it fully.

He climbed up some vines growing on the side of the wood paneling and pulled his dagger to wedge it open. Once he got himself inside, he turned towards the window to close it.

His entire body stiffened when he heard the metallic click of a pistol being cocked from behind him.

“Now I’ll only say this one time, Mister, you need to get outta here before I blow a hole in you and make a mess all over these clean floors.” The threat was serious, Sean knew that, but he couldn’t help but perk up at the sweet sound of your voice as you told him you were going to shoot him if he didn’t leave.

He put his hands up, dropping the dagger he had, and turned to face you slowly. The house was dark. Shadows danced across your face and shielded your eyes making you look lethal with the gun pointed at his chest. Sean thought you were beautiful.

“I mean no harm, Miss. Just business ‘s all,” Sean gave you a toothy smile which only made you narrow your eyes.

You told him you were going to give him one chance to leave and he’d only stay if he had a death wish.

Sean wanted nothing more than to stay with you and use whatever methods he could to woo you, but he was familiar with the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice. He was scheduled to meet the gods above if he didn’t slip back out that window and into the night.

After he left, he was already planning the ways he could meet you again - under more favorable circumstances of course. He decided to visit you the next day with a peace offering and a smile.

Once dawn broke over the horizon, painting the world in a golden orange light, Sean was already up and out of camp heading to your large house on the hill.

He knocked on the door and you answered after a few minutes. Your hair was messy from sleep and your nightgown was covered by a long robe that was hastily thrown on to save your modesty.

“What the hell?” You grumbled and looked at Sean as if he had grown three heads. “Either you are the stupidest man on the planet for comin’ back here, or you truly do have a death wish. If it’s the latter give me a second to grab the gun.”

Sean was in love immediately.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. I never woulda thought ‘bout stealing from a man with such a pretty woman living under his roof.” He handed you a small box saying that it was a piece offering. Inside was a large silver coin and a note that said ‘thanks for not shooting me’.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, but pocketed the coin and note nonetheless. You invited him in, but warned him any funny business would not end favorably for him. He only shot you a coy smile and promised that he was only coming as a gentleman, not an outlaw.

The two of you grew as friends at first but once things seemed to grow more romantic, you had to start sneaking around and avoiding your father finding out about the relationship and how it started.

Sean was glad he got the practice sneaking in your window that first night, though, because it was common practice while the two of you had to keep your romantic relations a secret.

Sadie Adler:

Sadie was a shell of herself when you met her.

She was still mourning the loss of her husband and trying to become accustomed to her new life as a member of the Van Der Linde Gang when you stumbled into her one day.

She was just starting to get back on her feet and was at the tailors in town when you strolled in with your fancy clothes and styled hair.

She wasn’t intimidated per say, but she felt a little inadequate in comparison. What with her ragged hand-me-downs from Miss Grimshaw and her few coins that she saved to buy a new linen shirt - you were like royalty compared to her.

You approached her first at the tailors. You asked if she had been in town long as you didn’t recognize her, where she came from, where her husband was (assuming she was married). Sadie didn’t know how to answer all the questions you threw in her direction.

You broke down her walls, though. You bought the shirt that she wanted and even invited her to tea with you at your house to talk about what had been plaguing her the last few weeks.

She didn’t want it to help, but Sadie could physically feel the relief flood her chest as she stopped holding on to her emotions and let them flow freely. A friendship between the two of you grew quickly and rapidly.

Then, it grew to be a little more.

Sadie had been working on jobs with Arthur and gaining her confidence back. In doing so, she finally got the nerve to kiss you goodbye one night when she was getting ready to go back to camp.

She gazed at you nervously after she did it. She couldn’t figure out what your expression meant - whether she went too far, or if you even liked her back in that way.

Tears slipped from your eyes as you looked up at her and grabbed her cheeks, shoving your lips against hers. Her kiss was sweet and gentle, but yours was aggressive and needy. You didn’t realize she felt the same way about you, and knowing that she did created a swell in your heart that never went away.

After your first kiss, you had to keep your relationship on the downlow. Your father knew that the two of you were friends (he hardly liked even that), if he found out that y’all were girlfriends he would separate you for good.

Sadie came up with the plan to visit you during the day as a good honest lady of society, but at night she would climb up through your window to enjoy spending time with you as a partner instead.

Friend by day, girlfriend by night.

Sadie slipped through your window every other night, quieter than a shadow when she came in. Sometimes you’d turn around and she would just be getting in and it would make you squeak a little as it startled you.

She kissed you to keep you quiet when that happened, though (teehee)

Sadie would spend hours with you at night. You’d help her brush her hair when there were missions she was on that took days and she wasn’t able to care for her locks. You’d let her borrow your nightgowns if she ever wanted to stay and relax in your bed until dawn.

The two of you would hold each other and talk until the mourning doves sang their melancholy songs in the early hours of the morning.

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raz-writes-the-thing · 6 months

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A Little Paradox Never Hurt Nobody (Doctor Who One-Shot)

Tenth Doctor x Eleventh Doctor x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: It's been six months since Eleven joined you both, and it's safe to say things have escalated a little.

CW: smut, threesome, filthy stuff im so proud of this

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

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See, the thing about Time Lords is that they are notoriously competitive. Particularly Time Lords of different regenerations in the same place at the same time. Particularly Time Lords of different regenerations in the same place at the same time who both had (or was it has?) the same companion. Said companion was you. Said Time Lords were the Tenth and the Eleventh regenerations of the Doctor.

When the eleventh Doctor had spouted his way out of a portal and into the tenth’s console room, there had been rather a lot of shouting, a lot of confusion, and a lot of use of the word ‘paradox.’ Quite frankly, if you never heard that word ever again it would be far too soon.

After that, there was a lot of discussion around Eleven not being able to be there because he already knew how all this was going to go. All the things Ten had yet to live, Eleven had already been through and while it was general knowledge that one should not attempt to change one’s own past- one was not always able to control oneself if that particular opportunity should arise.

They’d tried pretty hard at first to figure out how to get him back. There was some ‘timey wimey’ reason as to why they couldn’t just use the TARDIS, and that had been about the extent of time and space travel knowledge you had, so you didn’t put any other suggestions in after that.

And so, Eleven was still with you six months later.

You didn’t know, of course, that Eleven still had you with him after Ten was due to regenerate in the future, not that you knew when that was, but what you also didn’t know until about a month into Eleven’s presence was that your relationship with Ten continued on with Eleven after a brief adjustment period. Fair enough.

And then Ten found out, and as they were both technically (but also not really) the same person, you ended up sleeping with them both. It had been their idea, though you were pretty sure that it had just sort of happened and they decided to take the credit.

Anyway, all this to say- Ten and Eleven knew how to play your body like a violin, and when they worked together it was as if they moved in tandem. It’s own kind of chaotic different to when they were feuding. They did that a lot too, to be fair.

Today it seemed as though they wanted to work as one. Riling you up every way they knew how. Lingering touches in bed, a hard squeeze on the way past you, whispered words of desire in corridors and spare rooms. Ten had rutted himself up against your thighs at some point and had unfortunately had to leave before he or yourself could finish- some urgent TARDIS thing.

Eleven had you pressed into the wall of his bedroom and had you grind yourself silly on his thigh. You’d not been able to get off, and Eleven had tutted when you’d whined that you needed more. You’d practically begged him, but he’d said no- “later, Petal.”

Things had continued on like that, teasing and close calls where whomever it was teasing you had to run for whatever reason.

Of course- they’d been planning it that way. The two of them, working together to get you as desperate as they possibly could so that when they finally had at you, you’d succumb to the pleasure with no thoughts left in your pretty little head.

“Oh, look at that,” Ten said from behind you, pinning your legs open with his own. You made some sort of sound- you weren’t even sure it sounded human. “Haven’t even been fucking into you for that long yet- already fucked dumb, love.”

Ten’s hands were wrapped around your waist, squeezing comfortingly as Eleven laid one hand on your knee and the other on your breast, flicking at the nipple while he fucked his hard cock into you over and over without mercy.

“Mm- she does, rather, doesn’t she?” Eleven commented, taking the hand on your breast to grab you by the chin and turn your face side to side. With your muscles so lax, you didn’t fight the motion, and Eleven wasn’t being rough with you anyway (yet) so it wasn’t a big deal. You whimpered, eyes screwing shut and head lolling against Ten’s shoulder. “Desperate little thing, aren’t you, love?”

You could barely form a response, tears welling as Eleven found a particularly good spot and rammed his cock into it repeatedly. Your muscles were non-existent by this point, having been eaten out twice and fingered to completion once on top of that as well. Ten had to keep your legs spread with his own, and he did so without complaint. Getting to see Eleven fuck you silly over the top of your shoulder was more than enough of an incentive for him.

On top of barely being able to form a response to anything your boys were saying, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were so cockdrunk that nothing was registering for you except the deep thrusting of Eleven’s cock into your g-spot over and over like a mantra you never wanted to end.

And because you were unable to keep your eyes open for more than two seconds at a time, you didn’t notice Ten’s fingers trailing over your hips to rub at your clit. You felt it though, and Ten had to tighten his muscles to keep you from snapping your legs shut around Eleven’s hips.

“Oh, my darling,” Ten cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “I know, darling. I know, love. It’s so much. It’s too much. You can do it, oh yes, I know you can. You’re such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” It was all you could do to not start crying with the overstimulation.

And it wasn’t to say you didn’t feel good. You felt fucking amazing, so so good, but it was so much. So much pleasure firing through your nerve endings. You could feel how puffy and swollen your lips were stretched around Eleven and it only served to make you cry out louder.

“Hush now, dear,” Eleven said, pressing his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. You didn’t argue, whole body limp against their whims. Whatever they wanted, you would give it to them. Anything at all.

Eleven grinned breathily, and fucked up into you harshly, not seeming to care how fucked out you were in the slightest. You wriggled against the fingers on your clit, and clung to Ten as though he were your lifeline.

“There there,” Ten said softly, fingers rubbing tight little circles. “Oh, darling, oh yes, I know. He’s so mean to you, isn’t he? Mhm. Oh yes.”

Eleven grumbled though it evened out into a moan when your cunt fluttered around him. His head dropped forward, already mussed hair falling into a curtain in front of his eyes. He gave his hips a few especially hard rolls, and your eyes fazed out onto the ceiling above you.

“Oh, look at that, Doctor,” Ten said, cooing and shushing you comfortingly. “We thought she was fucked out before. Look at her now. Maybe we should give her a break, eh?”

Eleven grunted, hips rocking softly now for a moment, giving himself time to think on it.

“Nah, don’t think so,” Eleven replied, getting back into his rhythm.

Ten’s fingers revived their assault, rubbing against you with such ferocity that you were afraid you might actually combust. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your body forced you to climax again, the pleasure bordering on pain with how intense it was. Your clit almost felt like it was burning- and yet you didn’t want it to stop. Ten shushed you gently, rubbing his nose along the shell of your ear and pressing kisses to your sweaty hair as your body spasmed between them.

Your cunt contracting harshly around Eleven forced him to cum, ropes of his seed painting inside you. The heat of them- warmer than a humans- filled you up so nicely that you were genuinely concerned under the foggy waves of pleasure that you might start crying.

Eleven rode his high out with your body, no care given for your poor overstimulated cunt, and finally when the last rolls of pleasure were done with him, he pulled himself out. He did so slowly, and you grimaced slightly at the tug of your puffy walls around him.

Eleven cooed and pressed a kiss to your cheek to placate you.

Ten let his legs slide down the bed, and yours followed accordingly, unable to hold themselves up for even another minute more. God, you were well and truly fucked. Literally, not figuratively (at the moment, anyway). You lolled back against him, nuzzling your cheek into his neck.

You hadn’t even noticed Eleven leave, but you definitely noticed him returning, towel in hand and water dripping off his face. Ah, he’d gone to clean up.

“Now, Ten, dearest, are you planning to fuck her before we all retire for the evening?” Eleven asked without much charm. He was just like that. You didn’t take offence. In fact, his crass command of language was one of the things that made you love him more. “Only asking in relation to clean up, of course.”

You could feel Ten hard against your backside, and you gave a half-hearted attempt to grind up against him. You were quite sore, but you wouldn’t say no if he wanted to use you.

“Can fuck ‘er tits if you like,” Eleven added, noting the way your legs subconsciously closed themselves. The ache was intense, but you considered it an added bonus to the pleasure you’d just been subjected to.

“Oh, big load of charming you are,” Ten scolded. “Blimey, you’re lucky I was there to lay the foundations for you both or you’d have had no chance.”

“Now, now, boys,” you said- the first words in a fair while to come out of your mouth and it was to stop them bickering. Even your voice sounded as though it had been thoroughly ravaged.

“Can I?” The Doctor asked, turning his attention back to you. One of his hands squeezed at your tit, and you swore you could feel the lust rolling off him in waves from that one action alone. You nodded tiredly. Of course, he could.

Ten leaned you forward so he could escape from behind you. Eleven took his spot without issue, pulling you up to sit against him rather than lay against him as you did with Ten.

Eleven brushed the hair behind your ear as Ten positioned himself in front of you. You looked up at his eager face, running a hand over his chest and down over his tummy to wrap around his upper thigh.

Just as you were about to let go and hold your breasts together for him, Eleven’s big, warm hands took their place, pressing against your skin, one forefinger flicking at a nipple quickly just to tease.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Ten breathed, dribbling some lube onto your tits. “So brilliant, love. Just like that- oh, yes- f-fuck.”

“Look at him,” Eleven whispered hotly into your ear. “Not even started yet and already stuttering.”

You let out a giggle of a whimper, and Ten’s hips started to rock against you. Your tired arms wrapped around the backs of his thighs, giving his ass a little squeeze.

Ten groaned, fucking your tits desperately. He wasn’t going to last long after having been teasing you and therefore himself as well all day, and it was barely another two minutes before his cock was starting to twitch and he started to moan with that lilt that he always did when he was close to spilling.

“Please,” you whined, head dropping back against Eleven’s shoulder. “Ten, please- Doctor-”

“Well, you heard the lady,” Eleven tutted, pushing your tits together that little bit harder to create a touch more friction for him. “You’d better cum then, shouldn’t you?”

Ten groaned, throwing his head back and exposing his gorgeous neck to you both. Eleven nipped at the tip of your ear, causing you to gasp.

“Cum on me, please- I need it,” you whined, brows drawing inwards in desperation. Ten seemed to finally hear you, and he let out a desperate little ‘o-hoh, yes, fuck-’ and he was cumming, spilling over your tits, rolling his hips back and forth to make sure he got the most out of his orgasm.

You groaned pleasurably as Eleven let go of your breasts. A drip of cum dribbled off the curve of your tit and onto Eleven’s hand, who deftly and without hesitation licked it up.

You were so fucked out and so busy thinking about how covered in spend you were that you barely noticed as Ten decided to collapse softly on top of you both. He snuggled close, not caring about the fact that he was now also covered in his own cum as well, and you huffed out a grunt.

“Oh, that’s just lovely,” Eleven said sarcastically, now being crushed under two grown people. “Now I’m trapped. I suppose you’re both happy, aren’t you?”

You giggled out a nod, and you could see Ten trying to contain his laughter as well.

“Alright,” you say, yawning tiredly. Wow, that came out of nowhere. Suddenly you were oh-so-tired. “Ten minutes of cuddles and then it’s group shower time, yes?”

“Maybe fifteen,” Ten replied tiredly.

“Yes, dears,” Eleven added, and you could hear the affectionate roll of his eyes.

Was it wrong, perhaps, to wish that Eleven would stay forever? Possibly. Was it going to stop you from wishing it quietly to yourself anyway?

Absolutely not.

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larkingame · 9 months

Text

[[public demo out June 14th, 2024]] | patreon

someone is after you.

for over a decade and a half now, you’ve traveled up, down and across the country--running schemes and hunting fiends with your mentor, con-man-by-day, vampire-hunter-by-night, Wyatt Abrams--the prolific vampire slayer and the living descendant of Gregory Abrams, founder and prophet of the Abrams Family, the nomadic vampire-hunting cult that raised you--and was wiped out years ago.

carrying the abrams name means also means carrying on it's enemies--but that isn't to say you haven't forged a couple of your own along the way. now, it seems someone is trying to make good on old threats and promises. they've placed a bounty on your head.

so you and wyatt do what you do best: you run away. to some little town, out nevada ways, where the title of town preacher is unexpectedly thrust upon you--bringing back years of trauma you thought long tucked away.

as if that wasn't enough, on your first day in town the local mine up and explodes--leaving the reclusive family that runs the town--and owns the mine--to suspect you as the main culprit.

now you're left with the responsibility of investigating the disaster to clear your name, looking into the mysterious cult just south of town, the gang of outlaws who've been wrapped up deep in a feud with larkin's patriarchal family--a group of people which you suspect to be hiding a secret most monstrous--all while dealing with the ghosts of your past, and the roots your family left behind.

larkin is a vampire western choose-your-own adventure game, with focuses on romance, religion, horror and complicated family dynamics.

play a fully customizable character [[decide upon their physical appearance, gender identity, sexuality, customize their pronouns]]

dictate a unique relationship with your mentor-turned-father-figure and his former appentice

romance any of ten characters, four male, three female, one non-binary and two gender selectable characters.

define your characters skillset and scheming tactics, select their weapons and fighting style, elect their feelings on religion, vampires and the cult that raised them.

the doctor [male] cyrus sokolov - the quasi-mayor of larkin, cyrus sokolov also operates as the town's doctor and mortician. he's immeadiately suspicious of you, the new preacher and the reputation you comes with. even though he doesn't like it, he needs your help.

the princess [female] celina sokolova - despite the misconceptions among the townsfolk, the reclusive third sibling of the sokolov family, celina, is actually the family’s eldest. hardly leaving the sokolov mansion, it’s rumored around town that she’s been struck with some sort of sun-related illness, others seem to hold the opinion that miss sokolova simply sees herself as too good to linger amongst the common folk. whatever the case may truly be doesn’t much matter to the people of larkin, after all, it's much more fun to gossip. she's very suddenly developed a fascination with the preacher, a hunger almost. but will she eat you whole?

the mortician's assistant [male] dominic sokolov - the youngest scion of the sokolov family, dominic works as assistant mortician in larkin, though he’s much more interested in larkin’s living townsfolk then the dead ones he’s been charged with taking care of. with seemingly endless information on everyone and everything that goes on in larkin, mister sokolov might not be the worst friend to have.

the lawyer [male] jacob nash - larkin’s only practicing attorney and resident do-gooder. after passing the bar exam, nash headed out west in the hopes of making a real difference for the people there, only to spend most of his days settling petty disputes and notarizing documents. despite his disappointment, however, nash has managed to keep a level head and his fondness for the people of larkin, even though he’s not so sure the sokolovs have the townsfolk’s best interest in mind.

the bartender [female] rose holloway - larkin’s most recent transplant, that was, until the preacher showed up. former city-girl, rose has adapted to both life out west and on her own, the only way she knows how--by pushing through it. the owner and bartender of larkin’s only saloon, the emerald, rose is a popular figure around larkin whether she likes it or not, but whether that has more to do with her occupation or the fact she also happens to be larkin’s youngest widow is still a topic up for debate.

the lieutenant [male/female/non-binary] hollis - an enigmatic figure around larkin, hollis serves as a lieutenant for the mysterious rateliff fellowship. one of the cult’s few members to make the long trek from their encampment in the desert to town more than once. talked to by few, hated by most, hollis bears the reputation of the people they represent to the town of larkin--one, that isn’t particularly favorable.

the vampire hunter [male/female/non-binary] ace zhang - vampire-hunting-mercenary extraordinaire, the last the preacher knew of ace, they were the young hot-shot on san francisco’s hunting scene. once upon a time ace was a prominent figure in the preacher’s life, the first real acquaintance they managed to make on their own, someone outside of wyatt’s sphere. growing up a member of the guild, their life is one that’s mirrored the preacher’s. maybe that’s why the two seemed to be linked so closely during the preacher’s time in california, whether that was as friends, rivals or something more, their presence is one that remains prominent in the preacher's mind.

the outlaw [male] cassidy alan ward - cowboy, outlaw, bandit, cassidy goes by many names and titles, but the one he prides himself on most is leader. protector of his people, the ward gang hides out somewhere in the hills outside larkin, looming over the townsfolk as an ever-present threat, cassidy finds the sokolovs personally responsible for the death of his sister, caroline, and he is out for blood.

the gunslinger [female] ethel jackson - cassidy's right hand, ethel is a gunslinger through and through. fancying herself the robinhood type, she's got a personal hatred for the family that looms over larkin. with the fastest gun in all of nevada, maybe even all of the west--ethel could prove to be a valuable friend--or a deadly adversary.

the stranger [non-binary] reyes - the newest addition to ward's gang, not much is known about them or their past--what everyone is well aware of, however, is the fact that nobody whose ever decided to cross reyes has ever come out of it alive.

the vampire [male/female/non-binary] montero moreau - you've hunted down their coven, debilitating any hopes for growth they had in terms of advancing in the cut-throat world of Vampires. you've made montero look like a fool, and they hate looking like a fool. They're determined to hunt you down and take revenge.

the first man [male] - adam - he believes himself to be the mirrored man mentioned in the abrams family book of genesis--the first vampire, plagued to walk the earth--and he has long been in search of his eve.

[[demo out june 14th 2024]] | patreon | itch.io

#larkin if #interactive fiction #games #vampires #cowboys #if #text based game #choose your own adventure #vampire romance #cowboy romance #text adventure #twine #twine game #twine interactive fiction

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scorpiussage · 9 months

Text

The Robin to My Batman (Neil Lewis/Fem!OC)

Pairing: Neil Lewis/Fem!OC

Summary: A comic book store opens up next to Gumshoe Video prompting a hot and heavy feud between the two businesses and their nerdy owners.

Theme: Romance - Enemies to Lovers

Warnings: Nerds being nerds, smut

The early morning walks to open Gumshoe Video are always enjoyable for Neil. He loves getting coffee from that family owned Armenian coffee shop down the street, greeting the old man who owns the hardware store across the street, and contemplating what the day’s theme should be.

However, his gorgeous, peaceful morning comes to a screeching halt as he spots a large moving truck parked in front of Gumshoe— no, parked in front of the vacant store to the left of his. He quickly darts into the alleyway across the street and watches with mounting horror as some—so far unrecognizable—new business moves in.

“No no no no no,” Neil mutters to himself, already picturing the worst case scenario. What if it’s a competing video store? Or perhaps on of those Christian shops that sells over priced bible themed tchotchkes? Both are miserable possibilities and he has no idea what he’ll do if either of those ends up being the case.

When the coast is clear of movers, Neil goes sprinting into his store and making a made dash for the phone to call his friends.

He has a bad feeling about this.

…

The first time he sees her is at the grand opening of Golden Age Comics, the new comic book store next door. The first thing he sees when he walks in isn’t the life sized cutouts of various comic book characters placed strategically about nor the wall display of rare figurines.

No, the first thing he sees is her, Bailey Taylor, the owner of the shop. She’s dressed like Wonder Woman, displaying these long shapely legs that have Neil’s jaw going slack in awe. She flutters about the store, greeting customers and advertising the big grand opening sale she’s running.

Johnathan and Lucien, who came into the store with him, start needling each other excitedly, muttering about how hot she is and Neil can only feel dread. This can only spell bad news, he just knows it.

Not at all like a coward, he quickly flees the store before she can approach him.

…

The first time he actually meets Bailey, she comes into his shop. Today Gumshoe is having a deal on westerns and so Neil is dressed accordingly as a cowboy. When she walks into his store, it creates a rather comical juxtaposition as it appears her own store is having a sale on Japanese manga.

Sailor Moon Bailey and Cowboy Neil stare each other down.

“Um, hi,” she greets with an awkward little wave, her smile bright despite the uncomfortable mood, “I own the comic book store next door. My name is Bailey.”

Neil nods stiffly, doing everything in his power to not stare at how hot she looks in that cosplay. When Neil fails to respond, an irritatingly adorable frown mars her features

“Okay,” she mutters to herself before saying, “Well, I just wanted to see if you’d be willing to do a team-up and have a collaborative sale.”

Neil scoffs, “And what? Hock old Adam West Batman tapes?”

She perks up and nods enthusiastically, “Yes! Exactly! I actually have this really great id-.”

Neil shudders at the thought and cuts her off before she can get going, “The old Batman show is absolute garbage in its cinematic delivery— no way would I subject my customers to that.”

The glare she gives him could cut steel and admittedly makes his happy bits stir in interest.

“Garbage?” She snarls, “That show was a pioneer for superhero media! Just because some over hyped alcoholic wife beater didn’t direct it, doesn’t mean it’s not good!”

Neil’s eyes narrow at her and he crosses his arms, trying to appear more authoritative than he usually looks, “Oh believe me, the director has nothing to do with the bad editing and poor visual shots!”

The woman looks like she’s visibly holding herself back from launching herself over the counter and decking Neil in the face. His cock makes another inappropriate twitch at the thought and he internally scolds himself for these reactions.

Without another word, Bailey storms out of the store and stomps her way back to her own shop and Neil breathes a sigh of relief.

God, he really needs to get laid if some uneducated comic dork is getting him riled up.

…

After that disastrous first encounter, a Cold War of sorts settles over the two businesses. If Neil is having a sale, Bailey will have a better one. If Neil does a midnight showing of a movie, Bailey hosts a free-to-join D&D party. If Neil dressed up, Bailey does too but does it better.

It’s aggravating.

Neil doesn’t even know what it is about her that has him going absolutely insane, but it’s beginning to be a problem. For instance, last week she dressed up like Cat Woman and strutted about both in and out of her store, placing herself in full view of Neil boredly manning the register of his own shop. He had to go and jerk off in his office like five times; and he was still horny afterwards!

Like he said— problem.

And it’s only getting worse.

“Dude, oh my god! She’s dressed like a school girl today!” Johnathan says while rushing into the shop, a lecherous grin on his face, “Her skirt is so short!”

Lucien cheers and Neil rams his head onto the surface of the checkout counter repeatedly.

He’s gonna die horny and infuriated by her subpar taste in cinema, it’s inevitable.

Lucien just gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and leaves him to his melancholy while he and Johnathan go next door.

“Ugh what do I do?!” He laments pathetically to himself.

…

The second interaction that Neil has with Bailey happens on a slow night for both businesses.

Neil is parked on the shop couch, watching Lady in the Lake and barely staying awake when she comes into his shop. She’s dressed normal today in a worn Captain Marvel t-shirt and denim shorts and he’s a little too tired to properly hide the slow up and down he gives her.

A little blush settles on her face when she catches him doing that.

“Slow night?” She asks after clearing her throat awkwardly.

“Yeah, you?”

Bailey blows a raspberry and nods, walking over to the couch and throwing herself down onto it next to Neil. He quickly scoots over, giving her room while trying to smooth his shirt and hair down to look less like a mess.

“What are we watching?” She asks.

Things sort of devolve from there. Whether it was one innocent comment taken the wrong way, or an intentional dig, it prompts a fresh new screaming match between the two of them over the cinematic quality of the Adam West Batman series. This woman will not let go of that trash TV series, Neil realizes.

Bailey gets up from the couch at some point, Neil hot on her heels as they move their heated argument about the store. It’s when they’re next to the wall that Neil pushes her against the surface and pins her arms high above her. He’s not thinking when he kisses her, pushing his tongue into her mouth to taste her— he’s running purely on adrenaline and instinct.

That first kiss they share is not a gentle one; it’s rough and filthy and hot.

“You are such a brat,” Neil bites out scathingly, his hands slipping away from her wrists to start running over her chest, cupping those perky tits of hers in his hands.

“You are an obnoxious tool!” She sneers in return, her now free hands making quick work of his belt buckle and the button on his jeans.

“I can’t believe how terrible your taste is in cinema! A rock would have better opinions!” Neil helps her push his pants down and then reaches forward to yank her shirt off. The bra she’s wearing is just a simple navy colored one but it has him physically biting back a moan at the sight.

She smirks up at him, then pushes him away with a rough shove, sending him into one of the shelves. She gets into his space, wrapping her arms around his neck and initiating another one of those blood racing kisses.

He reaches down and grabs her under her thighs, hoisting her up to wrap her legs around his waist. He starts walking them back towards his office, fully intent on throwing her down onto his couch in there and getting all this frustration out of his system.

Sex has always been pretty gentle and by-the-book for Neil, he’s never had a desire to be rough or for a partner to be rough with him, but Bailey makes his head fuzzy. She makes him want to do things he’s never done before.

“Fuck— Neil!” She gasps when he puts her down and immediately sticks his hand down the front of her shorts and starts rubbing along her slit. It’s so wet and he groans, his cock twitching in anticipation.

“Can’t wait to shut you up,” he tells her, his long fingers alternating between rubbing vicious circles on her clit and slipping down to enter her with harsh thrusts, “Been thinking about this for weeks.”

Her fingers scratch lightly across his stomach as she pushes his shirt up, “Well, you’re going to have to do lot better than this to make that happen.”

His eyes narrow and he pulls his hand out of her shorts, ripping the button open and yanking them down her legs. He grips her around her hips and flips her onto her stomach, climbing onto her legs to keep her from kicking about.

“I am so sick of that smart mouth,” he tells her before laying a loud slap to her right ass cheek, making her cry out in surprise that dissolves into a moan. He would spank her in earnest, but he’s been so fucking horny for so long that he only gives her a few smacks before slipping his fingers up under the edge of her panties, rubbing the buttery soft skin of her ass.

Trailing his hands up, he unhooks her bra and climbs off of her so that she can turn over onto her back. She’s quick to shuck off her bra and panties, exposing herself entirely to his hungry gaze.

“You said you thought about this for weeks,” she remarks while slipping her fingers down to her folds, “How many times did you jerk off to me?”

He groans and goes down to his knees, leaning forward and shouldering his way between her thighs.

“So many fucking times,” he admits shamelessly before licking into her with enthusiasm.

Her fingers thread through his hair, tugging him forward and using the leverage to grind against his face. He could die here, smothered between those shapely thighs, and it would be in total bliss. Her moans are the sweetest thing he’s ever heard and he endeavors to hear them get louder.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He asks, his fingers returning their journey of entering her and his eyes watching with hooded rapture as her cunt sucks them into her.

“Neil,” she gasps his name, chanting it like a prayer and he picks up the pace with his fingers. He sucks on that hard little bud of hers and feels her cum around his fingers, that soaking cavern gripping him tightly.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “please let me fuck you.”

Her thighs are shaking as she comes down from her orgasm high, “Yes, fuck yes.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement— he’s barely got his underwear down before he’s pushing into her. She’s tighter and wetter than any other pussy he’s been in and he tells her as much, rasping filthy things into her ear as he begins a brutal and unrelenting rhythm.

“Thought about bending you over the front counter and fucking you stupid so many times.”

Her nails dig into his back, raking along the surface and certainly leaving their mark.

The thought alone of her marking him could make him cum. He bites his lip harshly to try and wrestle back some control, unwilling to see it end so soon.

It barely works as his hips stutter in their thrusting.

“Can I cum in you?” He asks— no, practically begs her.

Her arms snake around his shoulders, tugging his head forward to rest against hers, their mouths finding each other hungrily. Between filthy, tongue filled kisses, she gasps, “Please!”

Permission granted, he buries himself as deep as possible inside of her, the head of his cock nudging her cervix, and he cums. He groans loud and long as those warm, wet walls squeeze every last drop from his cock, sucking it better than any blow job could manage.

He pulls out of her slowly and almost reluctantly, sad to part from that perfect cunt of hers. A flow of white cum follows his departure, dripping from her opening and over her ass in thick globs.

He’s never seen something so sexy in his life and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t get to see it again.

Stepping back from Bailey, he grabs his shirt off the floor and uses it to wipe her clean, chuckling at the deadpan look she gives him for the effort. Tossing the shirt aside, he climbs onto the couch and lays himself out next to her, pulling her to rest against his chest.

They lay like that for a long time, catching their breaths and basking in the after glow.

“You don’t really hate the Adam West Batman series, do you?” Bailey asks, her eyes looking up at Neil imploringly.

Neil about answers the way he normally would but when he looks down at her and sees the earnest expression she’s wearing, he doesn’t have it in him to be an asshole.

“No, it’s not that bad,” he lies and feels his heart flutter when she shoots him a beaming smile in return.

He thinks he can stand mediocre cinema for her sake.

#neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis/reader #neil lewis x oc #neil lewis/oc #watching the detectives #cillian murphy #watching the detectives fic #neil lewis fic

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cannedapricot · 1 year

Text

the deal. || ldh

in which you never wanted to ask your stupid neighbor for help in chasing your dream man - but desperate times call for desperate measures - even if that meant giving lee donghyuck the satisfaction of parking his car in your spot.

word count: 3.5k

genre, warnings: fluff at the end, smidge of angst, slice of life, neighbor!au, high school!au, one sided enemies to lovers, mistaking admiration for love, very romcom movie there's a kiss in the rain scene somewhere in here, mark lee is in the same grade as the 00s for plot purposes, underage drinking, profanities

bgm: hits different by taylor swift, can i call you tonight? by dayglow, disaster by conan gray, i like me better by lauv, kiss goodnight by i dont know how but they found me

a/n: i read better than the movies and the whole time i was thinking "you know who this trope would look good on? hyuck." and thus this was birthed. there's a another neighbor!au in my drafts but the brainrot has taken over i'm afraid.

A proud grin, the tinkling of his keys, an annoying strut. These were all the qualities Lee Donghyuck sported in this very moment as he climbs out of his car. Perfectly parallel parked in the spot outside your house.

If only you were rich. You'd run your stupid neighbor over in a heartbeat then pay the bail to get out of jail. Instead, you wear a scowl reserved especially for the boy, click your tongue, and park a good five minute walk away.

Technically, the parking spot was between your house and the Lees next door. But technically, the spot was 60% on your side, and 40% on theirs. So technically, shouldn't that spot be yours? Why was your shit head of a neighbor adamantly trying to feud with you?

The five minute walk, lovingly dubbed the "walk of shame" by both you and your sworn enemy, would be a lovely three minute walk home - if not for the Kims on the corner who loved starting conversations with whoever passed by. On a good day, you would get away with two minutes of conversation ("Oh sorry Mrs. Kim, I have an assignment I just must get to."). Other days? You weren't so lucky.

"Four minutes? I think that might be a new record." Donghyuck gloats, leaning against his car.

"You were timing me?" You glare at his casual demeanor, wondering how he could possibly be so insufferable.

"Well, I have to know what I'm up against."

You snort, passing by the boy waving his keys around like a trophy, making sure your middle finger was up and in sight.

"Jealousy is a disease, babe." He sings as you slam the door shut behind you.

He really was insufferable.

You should've known.

When you agreed to go to Liu Yangyang's party on the condition that someone drive you, you would've thought he would send someone like Jaemin or Jeno - the duo that always seemed to be the assigned sober drivers. Looking back, you were naïve.

You should've known he'd send your neighbor.

Thus, leads you to the present. Lee Donghyuck in your kitchen, chatting up your mother while you hurriedly try to find your jacket before said mother gets any more charmed by the kid next door.

Truth be told, you were close to not going to the party at all. But then you caught wind that he'd be there and it'd be silly not to grab hold of any chance you could have to impress him.

Donghyuck watches you move around out of the corner of his eye and when you started to move towards the door, he knew you were ready. But he'd spend extra long bidding your mom farewell, just so you'd wait a few minutes longer. He always liked keeping you waiting.

"I never took you for a house partier." Donghyuck comments when the two of you enter his car. "Stop checking yourself out in the mirror, you look the same as always."

You flip the sun visor back up with a scoff. What's wrong with making sure your hair was laying the way you wanted it?

"I never thought you'd agree to drive me to a house party."

"What can I say? I love giving back to the community."

It was a mystery to you how Donghyuck was so beloved around both the town and school. He was sarcastic, petty, and most importantly, constantly went against you. Perhaps everyone was blinded by his attractiveness? He did have a pretty face.

"I get that my face is attractive, but you don't have to look so hard. I think you're staring holes into my lovely cheek."

Correction, he had a pretty face when his mouth was shut.

It was loud, you could feel the bass pumping through your body. Drunk teenagers littered the floor of Yangyang's suburban house, bouncing to the beat and having the time of their lives. Swerving through the crowd of bodies, you picked up on bits of gossip you were sure you weren't supposed to hear. But by the end of the night, you were sure you would've forgotten about whatever scandal Shotaro from biology got into anyway.

Somehow still together, you and your neighbor find the host mixing unidentifiable liquids together in a red solo cup on the kitchen counter.

"Yang, is that poison or alcohol?"

"How dare you, it's called "a good time.""

He offers you the cup, which you turn down. You know how drunk Yangyang likes to get at his parties. Therefore, you know that one sip of whatever was in that cup could probably send you to ER. And you refused to go to ER without at least getting one glance of your dream man.

A quick scan of the room told you that he wasn't here, at least, not within your radius.

"No alcohol for me tonight. I have to drive this one back."

You raised an eyebrow as Donghyuck declines Yangyang's "special blend".

"How responsible." You tease.

"Only because you're here. I don't want you dying at my hands." He counters, leaning back and meeting your gaze, smirk on his lips. "How would I ever face your mother again?"

"Yo, Haechan, dude, you finally made it." A familiar voice sounds.

Enter, Mark Lee. Star athlete, every teacher's favorite student, adorably awkward, and your crush of two months. You swore he had this glow around him that made everything he does so endearing, even when he accidentally sent a basketball flying to your head once.

"Oh, hey Y/N. Didn't know you were coming as well."

"Yeah! I came with Donghyuck! Well, not with him but he was my ride here and will be my ride home so-"

You really had to do something about your nervous rambling in front of Mark.

Mark stayed for a small conversation with your little group before someone hurled on Yangyang's bathroom tiles, not making it to the toilet in time. The host (grumbling about how he just cleaned it yesterday) went to sort it out, your crush in tow.

You stare fondly at his back disappearing into the crowd before you feel a hot breath on your neck.

"No way. You like Mark Lee."

The car ride home was painful for you. Despite your attempts to bargain with him the whole party so he would shut up, the boy behind the wheel spends the whole ten minute drive teasing you like an elementary schooler instead. The song about kissing in a tree involved.

"What is it about him that you like?" Donghyuck asks, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Why? So you can hold it against me for the rest of my life?"

"Wow, I'm offended. Who do you take me for? I would never."

You raise an unbelieving eyebrow at him, only to be met by his side profile in the moonlight. The silver light beams against his features and you only just realize the constellation of stars on his cheek. The light at the intersection flashes red and the car smooths to a stop, Donghyuck turns to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

Shit, isn't this kind of intimate?

"Fuck off." You cough out, swiveling your head to look out the window instead. "Eyes on the road, Lee."

"I'm a Lee, but not the Lee you want." He exclaims, following it with an overly dramatic sob.

Keeping a steady stare out the window, you try to calm your reeling mind. Eyes on the prize, Y/N.

The prize being Mark Lee, of course.

Speaking of which.

"Donghyuck, you're friends with Mark right?"

"Depends. Are you going to ask me to help you get with him?"

You sit up in your seat and make your best possible attempt at puppy dog eyes, "please? I wouldn't ask if I didn't have a choice."

It was true, begging Donghyuck was the last thing you ever wanted to do. But you weren't getting anywhere by yourself and they were friends so surely that could help your case? At least he could tell you what type of person Mark liked? Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Your neighbor goes silent, presumably thinking about this suggestion. "What would I get in return though?"

Of course he wasn't just going to help you for nothing. So you rack your brains for something you'd be willing to exchange.

The car turns into your familiar neighborhood, passing Mrs Kim's house. And as the car pulls into the parking spot in front of your house, you spill out, "I'll give you the parking spot."

Donghyuck's eyebrows go up at this suggestion and his signature smirk makes it's way back onto his face. He leans his arm against the back of your seat and you instinctively lean back, fighting the urge to wipe that stupid grin off him.

"You're willing to take the "walk of shame" everyday for him?"

You click your tongue, "the parking space. Take it or leave it."

He leans back, mouth still curved up. The distance lets you release a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"You make a compelling argument."

"Well?"

"Deal."

You give him a nod, moving to exit the car and crawl back into the comfortable sheets of your bed, but Donghyuck's hand on your arm stops you. In confusion, you look back at him.

"I'm not fake dating you though."

"Hyuck, this isn't "To All the Boys I've Loved Before". I would rather die than fake date you."

The corners of his lips quirk up into a smile - not a smirk - at his nickname. "Hyuck?"

"I'm going home."

True to his word, for the next couple of weeks Donghyuck actively played a part in nudging you and Mark together. However, as much as he tried to create chances for you and your crush to be alone, your habit of nervous rambling when making conversation didn't help at all. It's not your fault Mark has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen. Though, somewhere in the back of your mind lingers a mischievous pair that glimmered the same way stars twinkled that night he drove you home.

Ever since making the "Making Mark Lee Y/N's Boyfriend" pact with your neighbor, you've been spending a lot more time together than you've ever had in the past. Admittingly, you've been enjoying it.

When did you last laugh as hard as you did when he attempted to step over the fence separating your houses? ("I can do it, my legs are long enough. Watch.") The boy ended up stuck with one leg half over and the other dangling off and because he looked ridiculous, you ended up on the soft grass of your backyard, tears in the corners of your eyes as you laughed.

When was the last time you felt comfortable enough with a person to share your deepest insecurities with each other in the dead of the night? Texting him nothing but a sad emoji as the clock hits 3am, receiving a response almost immediately - "Can I call you?". Talking about your ambitions, dreams, and fears until the sun rose above the horizon and you both realized you had school in an hour.

That didn't mean you liked him or anything though, right?

You liked Mark.

Or so you thought.

Maybe?

Fuck. How dare Donghyuck confuse you like this.

Sometimes, you wonder how things turn out. How the smallest choices can lead you down a whole new path entirely. And how they all led to Lee Donghyuck currently being sprawled on his stomach on your bed, legs swinging in the air.

Right. You had a date with the other Lee. The one you allegedly had a crush on. Well, it wasn't a date per se. It was more of a one on one friendly hangout? Donghyuck had gotten movie tickets for both him and Mark - then ditched the day before and said you would go in his place. It was kind of genius.

"Okay, would Mark like this color better than the blue?" You ask, clothes strewn across the floor. A good chunk of your day had been spent digging through your closet looking for clothes you think Mark would like. Your neighbor couldn't care less about your crisis. He barely spared a glance up at you before he returned to whatever he was looking at on his phone.

"Looks good."

"Donghyuck, I need you to keep up your half of the deal."

The boy finally gives you his attention. Pulling himself up so that he's sitting on the edge on your bed, staring straight at you.

"Shouldn't you want him to like you as you are? There's no point doing all this-" He gestures to the mess, "-just to impress him. I think you'd look nice even if you chose to wear your pajamas out."

"But he doesn't like me. Not yet at least. That's why I have you to help me."

"...Right."

The atmosphere suddenly becomes stuffy. You wonder if you said the wrong thing because suddenly, the boy next door is leaving. It's not surprising given that the both of you spent half a day going through your wardrobe and he probably had things to do. But, you just can't shake the uneasy feeling.

"Hey, are we good? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, we're good. Good luck." Donghyuck says at your door, a smile unlike any of the previous ones you've seen gracing his face. It seemed forced.

A faint pitter patter of rain hitting the window panes sounds through the quiet room.

You hope he made it home without getting wet.

"Man, I didn't know you liked Spiderman too."

"Mmhm."

You made it to the theatres with Mark. You enjoyed watching the movie with Mark. You were getting driven home by Mark. You had a great time with your crush. So why was your mind still on a certain situation and a certain someone from before.

"My other friends all watched it on a day I got called into work so I was surprised when Haechan was willing to re-watch it with me - he's usually not that nice, you know?"

The edges of your mouth lift a little at the dig at Donghyuck. In front, the windshield wipers squeak a little, trying their best to rid the glass of rain droplets. The radio plays an old song in the background that Mark hums softly to, thumbs tapping in time on the wheel while waiting for the lights to turn green. It was cozy, but could never measure up to how intimate you felt in the car with Donghyuck.

"Then he dips last minute. Honestly, I shouldn't have been surprised. I was more surprised that you were coming instead though - I thought you would've wanted to watch it with Haechan."

Your brows furrow. "Why?"

"Oh - I thought you liked him."

The world around you stopped. Though the light turned green and the car was definitely moving now, you felt your entire body freeze.

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

Mark's confusion showed on his face, his emotions always did. That was one of the things you liked about him. Or so, you thought.

"Well, for starters, you're much more comfortable around him. I don't know if that's just because you always tense up when I'm around. I'm sorry if I've done anything to make you uncomfortable by the way, it was never my intention."

Mark Lee, your supposed crush, thought you were uncomfortable around him. You lean your head against the window of his car, it was nice and cool. Perfect as you let yourself ponder.

You always were unnecessarily nervous around him - but wasn't that normal? You liked him. You liked his smile, how he was able to win the favors of everyone around him so easily, how he was always reliable, how good he was at sports- oh.

It was never romantic.

You didn't know anything about Mark. You never even had a proper conversation with him. What he liked to do in his spare time, what his plan was for the future, what stupid habit he has, what he sounds like over the phone at 3am. You had no idea.

But you knew what Donghyuck liked to do in his spare time, what he wanted to do in the future, what his stupid habit was, what he sounded like over the phone at 3am.

Fuck.

And it all came rushing to you all at once.

The prize was always something shiny, blazing, and brilliant. It was something you wanted but would put on a shelf to admire. Mark Lee was your prize. Someone you admired. He was never someone you imagined having debates with for the rest of your life. He was never someone you imagined spending rainy days indoors together with.

Perhaps, after all this time, the prize wasn't what you were after. Perhaps, what you really wanted was to spend time with-

"No way."

"Hm?"

"I like Lee Donghyuck."

Your admiration for Mark was a luminous, fleeting feeling that you mistook for love. Love was never about having to dress like a different person to impress them. Love was laughing together at the smallest things, showing up in two week old pajamas and still thinking they're the most beautiful being you've laid eyes on, and sometimes, love was fighting over a parking spot outside your house.

Mark grins. "Great. He's been in love with you since third grade."

"What?'

"Why do you think he's never dated before? All this time, he's been waiting for you to realize."

"I'm glad we got closer today," Mark mentions, pulling onto your street, "you seem a lot more comfortable now."

Yeah, because you no longer thought Mark was your dream man. A weight was taken off your shoulders now and you didn't feel the need to keep up an act around him anymore.

"Thanks for today."

"Hey dude, no worries. Just let me know if you need any help wooing Haechan alright? I love helping couples get together."

"...Didn't you try before with two other couples?"

"...Yeah... They didn't turn out how I thought they would."

The two of you share a laugh before you clamber out of his vehicle and wave him goodbye from your porch. The rain had started pouring down from the grey skies but your fingers hesitate at your door.

Fuck it.

Instead of walking into your warm and dry house, you decide to brave the rain and run over to your neighbor's, splashing through the puddles without care. It soaked the clothes you spent forever deciding on and ruined your meticulously done hair, but urgent times call for urgent measures.

Two knocks and the door swings open, revealing the boy next door behind. His eyes widen at the sight of you taking heaving breaths on his doorstep, hair and clothes complete wet and still getting pelted on by the rain.

"Did he hurt you?"

The urge to laugh bubbles through you. He was always putting you first. All this time, he was helping you chase another man. He was ready to give up on his chance with you if that meant you had a chance of being happy with someone else. Even now, after you'd hurt him, he was still worried about you.

"Lee Donghyuck, I'm in love with you."

For a while, everything's silent. Even the rain fell mute on your ears. All you could see was your rival's jaw open in shock and his Adams apple bobbing up and down trying to find the words to say. It was quite a satisfying view.

Then you start rambling as panic settles in. The need to apologize for hurting him, how you actually felt about Mark, how you found out about your feelings. Old habits die hard.

Except, not even a full sentence into your unplanned speech, Donghyuck steps out of his house, into the rain, and cuts you off with his warm, soft lips on yours. You stumble back, not expecting the sudden weight on you, and the two of you fall back onto the wet, cold grass on his front yard.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that."

His face was as close to yours as physically possible, eyes gazing lovingly over your features, wanting to soak every second of this moment in.

"Let me guess, since third grade?"

"I knew Mark couldn't be trusted."

Laughter claims you both before you pull him in by the collar for another kiss. There were grass stains on your clothes, it was cold and muddy, and the two of you will definitely end up with a cold the next day, but somehow, in that moment, you felt as though the world was yours.

"I kept my end of the deal."

"What do you mean?"

"You ended up getting a boyfriend with the name "Lee". I think that means I get the parking spot."

You smile.

"I'd happily do the walk of shame for you."

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arthursfuckinghat · 4 months

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Full disclosure, I'm still on chapter 6 but I wanted to say a few things:

Arthur isn't a mindless killer. If he is mass murdering civilians, that's your choice.

Arthur knows that pain is not currency that you can exchange, and causing it only builds a debt - the kind he can't pay off.

He says it himself, "Revenge is a fool's game" - He writes constantly about his remorse in the journal.

Led by Dutch, the Van Der Linde gang have been chasing the feeling of living by their own terms so much that it's killing them. Pursuing that high has only left them to run forever, from those who want to clip their wings of freedom for the sake of law.

The O'Driscoll and Cornwall feud is a scapegoat for Dutch to get revenge for himself and his pride, he uses his charismatic rhetoric to sway the gang and justify all his actions. If they don't obey, they get named and shamed. Dutch labeling the gang as a family and treating them as such has conditioned them to know not to disappoint him, especially Arthur.

Arthur was taught not to bite the hand that feeds him, even when he wasn't fed.

The days of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor are long gone. Their way of living is outdated and they're running out of land to run away to.

This pursuit of freedom, once idealised, has become a desperate attempt to survive in a world that doesn't want them.

Their hearts have always been in the right place, but their guns were misguided by Dutch.

That loyalty has killed them.

#charles is the only other sane person in this game #dutch's whole “im doing this for us but it only benefits me” manipulation has worked #arthur is seeing through that act but us still torn about it #he has accepted that he might die to his loyalty to dutch but he doesn't want it for anybody else either #how did we go from “youre more than a son to me” dutch to “I need no traitors” whilst glaring at arthur #hosea's death happened #but it's been a long time coming #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #van der linde gang #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #mick squeaks #no spoilers please #liveblogging #please let me know your thoughts!!

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wing-ed-thing · 7 months

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Childhood Friends to Lovers Headcanons with Madara

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns

𓆃 Likely the easiest way to build anything meaningful with Madara. At least something that'll make him think twice before he does anything stupid.

𓆃 Because he's stubborn and, like most people in the period of warring clans, likes to stick to what he knows. If you grew up together, you're likely an Uchiha or at least in a very closely allied clan.

𓆃 Not to say that being a Senju and having a relationship with him similar to Hashirama isn't possible, but it's more likely that you'll encounter interpersonal issues the moment village politics come into play.

𓆃 Being with Madara from the start is sure to get you major points in the long run, because no matter where your journey together takes you, he understands that you went through the same things together.

𓆃 This understanding is paramount if you want a deeper relationship with him.

𓆃 Your history also makes it likely that Madara will make exceptions for you that he wouldn't have otherwise made for anyone else. Any of your quirks automatically border on sentimental and even battle prowess can be overlooked given your deep childhood friendship.

𓆃 Perhaps the side of Madara that you unlock isn't necessarily cuddly, but he will demonstrate time and again through his actions that he cares deeply about you.

𓆃 He will have your back in battle, shouting out compliments at your performance even if a sword is at his throat. Or if you're a non-combatant, he's always prioritizing your safety whether he's guarding you himself or sending Izuna to bring you to safety.

𓆃 Madara takes on quite a few roles for you that are best not to think too closely about. It doesn't matter if he's younger or older, he's comfortable inserting himself in your affairs, sometimes overriding your decisions if he believes he knows better about what's best for you.

𓆃 Despite his quirks, it's very clear to everyone that the two of you have a unique bond. It's not very often that you're separated, and even when you're together it is very clear that Madara allows things from you that he wouldn't allow anyone else.

𓆃 Attitude and even blatant feuds settle into banter. Disrespect is regarded with an eye roll. Step out of line at an important figure and Madara silently and stoically has your back.

𓆃 A relationship akin to two cats that can't be adopted separately. Any mutual feelings are gradual and, to both of you, obvious. You've always stuck together, how is it different when you're adults?

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara #madara uchiha #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #reader insert #x reader #x you

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steddieasitgoes · 1 year

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Busker Eddie who always sets up right outside The Harrington and Son Law Firm because the overhang of the tall building gives him the best acoustics, and it’s right across from the subway line.

Sure he has to deal with Mr. Harrington calling the police on him for soliciting every time he shows up. But the tips he makes are worth it. Plus, he’s managed to win over the chief of police Hopper, who never writes Eddie up. He thinks it’s because Hopper has some kind of feud with Harrington, but he doesn’t ask. It’s better not to get involved.

Eddie’s busking his heart out one day. Giving his all to a small group of tourists gathered around him when a Young Suit marches over to him. Fights his way through the tourists, gets his hands on Eddie’s shirt, and yanks him away from the crowd.

The Young Suit is dressed like all the other suits who sneer at Eddie as they head into the building every afternoon. But this Young Suit doesn't look anything like the rest of them. His hair is fluffy and styled to perfection, nothing like the clean-shaven and buzzed heads Eddie's used to. His walk is a little less polished, dress shoes a size too big on his feet, Eddie guesses. But it's his eyes that really give him away. They're not dark and dead like every other suit who sold their soul to the devil. There's a glimmer of life behind this guy's eyes, enough that Eddie doesn't immediately start his rant about how lawyers are the devil reincarnated.

He still gives him shit though.

"What the fuck man?"

"Look, I don't want to do this," Young Suit says, running a hand through his hair. "But my dad's ready to throw the fax machine out the window if you don't leave so can you please find somewhere else to busk?"

Dad, huh?

Eddie can work with that.

"Ah, so you're the son in Harrington and Son's Law Firm," Eddie says, a salacious grin appearing on his face. "Sorry, Harrington Jr., but no can do. This is my spot. Tell daddy I have the license to prove it."

Harrington Jr. sighs dramatically before his hands land on his hips. He looks like an exasperated soccer mom.

A cute exasperated soccer mom.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Could you at least change the days you're here then?" Harrington Jr. asks. "My asshole dad never works on Mondays and Tuesdays. If you busk those days, I'll make sure no one calls the cops on you."

"Like I said, no can do," Eddie says, casually. "I make most of my rent money on Thursdays and Fridays. Daddy dearest will have to deal with it."

"Don't do it for him, do it for me."

"And why would I do anything for you?" Eddie asks, caught off guard for the first time in a long time.

Harrington Jr. gets a wicked look in his eyes. Lips twitching upward in a smirk that has Eddie's knees seconds away from buckling.

"Because I actually like your voice and want to hear more of it without my dad screaming and threatening violence in the background," he says, laying the compliment on thick. "I can also make it worth your while."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"I have a friend who works at the club on 9th. One phone call and you can be performing on a real stage for people who don't smell like stale subway air. You're too good to be performing on street corners."

The offer is tempting, it is. But Eddie can hear his uncle's nagging voice in the back of his head. The one that tells him not to take offers from strangers, especially not pretty ones who can't be trusted.

"Tell you what, Harrington Jr." Eddie flirts. "I'll think about it, while I finish my set. Till then, I'm not leaving. "

"Better keep watch for flying fax machines then," Harrington Jr. sighs again, finally dropping his hands from his hips. He turns to go back inside but stops abruptly, digging in the pockets of his pants before pulling a thick wallet out. He leafs through it before tossing an impressive stack of bills in Eddie's open guitar case.

Eddie waits for him to say something else, but he never does. Just stuffs the wallet back in his pocket and drags himself back inside the building.

When Eddie's sure Harrington Jr. is back inside, he kneels down to inspect his earnings. He nearly passes out when he spots three crisp hundred dollars bills lying under a business card that reads:

Steve Harrington Associate Lawyer Harrington and Son Law Firm 646-442-8422

Well played, Eddie thinks as he pockets the business card with Steve's number. Well played, indeed.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #busker eddie #lawyer steve #are those tags? they are now lol #dani writes

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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 8 months

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Sexiest Podcast Character — Scripted Bracket — Round 3

Propaganda

Yaretzi (Hello From The Hallowoods):

Hot werewolf lady

HEY NOW! Yaretzi is a hot post apocalyptic monster hunting LESBIAN space werewolf lady who is in a relationship with a space vampire literally just called The Countess, who is herself in a long feud with Dracula, who runs a biker gang.

She runs a magical hotel with her queer platonic life partner, a renegade demon who gives off exceptional queer vibes.

Together they are raising their adopted child, who is a decaying human skeleton inside a 9 foot tall suit of monster slaying power armor. He, in turn, is taking care of his pet seagull, who is a zombie. Also the seagull is simultaneously both one bird and an entire flock of zombie seagulls.

Anyway, Yaretzi has been hunting monsters for her star god for a very long time, and she is hot and deserves to win.

Werewolf who made a pact with a star deity to kill conquistadors

Spends centuries hunting demons and eating their hearts

Guides the only demon she failed to kill into a sense of his own personhood, adopted a son together, then started dating one of her traditional ancient enemies (hot vampire lady)

Smokey growly voice, grows huge when she transforms, fierce and loving and terrifying

Hera (Wolf 359):

I don't care if she's an AI with no physical form, she is HOT

my digital wife <3

oh it's always "i want a hot computergirl with poor cable management to glitch on my shit" and "i want to fuck her until she bluescreens" on this website until it's time to put your money where your mouth is. i have a post about usb penetration with tens of thousands of notes. i see the things you all say. you have a hot computergirl in front of you and this is how you all repay her? you would abandon her? prove yourselves as the computer sex website; vote for hera NOW!!!

#Round 3 #Yaretzi #Hera #Hera W39 #Hello From The Hallowoods #Wolf 359 #Yaretzi HFTH

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barkly-523 · 2 months

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About Dutch van der Linde

Hello tumblr rdr space! I do not go here, but I post on tiktok sometimes and have a dear buddy of mine who ive been talking to about some posts on here!

I will post a proper introduction at a later date, but for now I would like to put my own two cents in on some stuff ive been seeing recently, about Dutch.

Dutch is an incredibly COMPLEX character, and I feel that some people really horrifically miss that point sometimes. whether it be "Oh, he bonked his head!" or "Oh, this man is a monster!" both points are on opposite ends of the spectrum, but I believe they greatly miss the overarching theme of his character and who he is, and was, as a person. To merely dismiss all of his actions by saying "oh, hes just a monster, abuser, groomer, thats why hes the way that he is" shows nothing above a surface level understanding of his character, nor the characters of the people around him and those who choose to work with him. These characters were designed to have depth, to be studied, and understood on a deeper level. Why take such a basic explanation? I am not here to say Dutch is not without flaws (because he has alot of those), but I AM here to say that calling dutch a "groomer" or some sort of "cult leader, master manipulator" is just, factually incorrect.

Firstly, with the grooming point. This is an incredibly stigmatized word nowadays, so its crazy to use in general here, but by no means were people "groomed" into being outlaws. These people had flaws of their own, took bad paths, and ended up crossing paths with Dutch. Why did they cross paths with him? Well, I went through every "how they joined the gang" story I could find, and its about a 50/50 split between they tried to rob or kill dutch, Or that they were on the run and dutch gave them a safe place to stay, with some exceptions. The odds of these people bumping into someone far worse, in all cases, are exceptional. Most of the gang were in bad places when dutch found them, and they were getting desperate. Its incredibly possible they wouldve bumped into someone who wouldve killed them instead. John was saved from being hanged. Had Dutch and Hosea not been there, he wouldve died. Arthur outright says "dutch saved me, saved most of us." and although things did not turn out right at the end of the day, to believe that dutch was nothing more than a power-hungry manipulator is shown to be incorrect in the media itself. Colm exists. Hes literally right there. An antagonist who; doesnt know the names of the men in his gang, is shown to hit Kieran, who cares more for numbers than connection. Their feud goes back YEARS, and it all seems to stem from a fatal disagreement about how things were being run. When they split paths, Dutch keeps a tight knit gang of people who he considers family, Colm continues to grow his gang in numbers. At the very start of the game, dutch makes it clear that hed prefer the gang doesnt split up, that they stick together so *he can be sure everyone is okay.* He shows sympathy for Sadies situation, and takes her in to help her. Not once is it stated shes obligated to be there, in fact, its stated that she can stay as long as she needs to, to get back on her feet. She has the final say on whether she stays in the gang or not. The reason so many people stayed in the gang until it was actively collapsing, is not because dutch was forcing them to stay. They saw him as family just as he saw them.

Its why his character arc is so interesting. Its why watching his downfall is impactful. he ISNT a bad man, he does bad things out of desperation towards the end of the game, just as other gang members did in the very beginning. Dutch had bad tendencies, but he had people there to help him stay on the right track. His beliefs were good, its why he had people who stuck with him. They believed in what he taught. He had incredibly intelligent people in his gang, I'll use Lenny and Hosea as my examples for now. Lenny was taught by his father to judge peoples character, and even if his time with the gang was short he absolutely wouldve picked up on dutchs behavior if he was hiding behind some sort of mask. and HOSEA, has been with the dude for 20 YEARS. You cannot fake something for that long, and hosea is far from stupid aswell. He is a conman by nature. If dutch was trying to con everyone, surely he wouldve noticed. Arthur still regards dutch incredibly highly for a good majority of the game. He sees the man as a mentor and is clearly deeply affected watching dutch spiral and do bad things as the game goes on. At the beginning, when told Dutch had shot a girl on the blackwater job, his first response is to say that it "doesnt sound like him". Dutch is shown to have remorse for his actions, although he chooses to rarely talk about blackwater, and avoids the subject when its brought up, he explains to hosea, with shame, that he "really messed up" in blackwater. Micah had egged dutch on (as stated by John in a camp interaction) and dutch is shown to be regretful, that job really put everything in motion, but I truly believe micahs manipulation is what changed dutch.

Micah fed into his impulsive side, and tried to reassure him when things went wrong. When Arthur was kidnapped by Colm, Micah explained that Arthur was the type to wander, and surely, theyd see him back at camp. Dutch, ONCE AGAIN, shows regret. He shouldnt have put Arthur in such a position, and knows it. Dutch has impulsive tendencies, he has paranoid thoughts. This is shown in multiple camp interactions and even stated in one of the games first journal entries about the land they were going to settle on before the ferry job. To simply blow off all the depth of his character by saying "oh, hes bad" is so,, lame? Why focus on dutch specifically to say he did all of these bad things on his own accord when micah is, right there. Dutch literally goes crawling back to him in the epilogue. Partly for revenge, since seeing arthur on the cliffside was able to briefly break him out of the funk hed been in for the last few months (albeit far too late), but also partly because I dont think he knows how to be alone. I dont think he can handle it. Hosea and Arthur had been by his side the longest, and he had to watch both of them die. Late game conversations between dutch and arthur have always been fascinating to me, and even in Guarma dutch is still set on going back to keep the gang together. Thats his family, and he cannot lose them too. He outright states he'll do whatever it takes to make sure they survive. Arthur is startled by this, as dutch has been shown to be deadly and irrational, he isnt processing things well, and cannot handle the pressure on his shoulders, and it certainly doesnt help that Micah is in his ear telling him that Arthur and John are betraying him. He clearly doesnt want to believe it, but he cannot wrap his head around hoseas death, and assumes that the only way it couldve happened was if someone ratted, completely overlooking micah.

Dutch is not a smart man, and truthfully, he should have never been in a position of power, but he is not evil. He was desperate, and he was trying to keep his family together. Although I do not agree with the "Trolley Theory" for reasons stated above, I highly doubt him bashing his head like that helped with his mental state either. Dutch is desperate. Dutch does bad things, but he is far from a bad man. He helped the people in his gang, and although the found family turned sour in the end, they mattered to him, and it mattered to the gang. Dutch, CANONICALLY, was not always "bad" either. Arthur, Dutch, and Hosea robbed a bank, took what they needed, and gave the rest to the local orphanage. Dutch scolded Arthur for robbing someone who was "too poor" and said that doing that made them just as bad as the system they were fighting against, Dutch helped Hosea get on the right track and stopped him from stealing just about anything he could get his hands on. Dutch is a man who had good ideologies, and wanted to help people in his own way, but the pressures kept adding up and it broke him. Dutch, in RDR1, is a more objectively "bad" character, But look at how they fleshed him out in rdr2. Was the cliff scene nearly as impactful before the release of rdr2? absolutely not! Playing as john, we were thrown in with a baseline knowledge of their history, and now knowing the full story makes the cliff scene quite the harrowing experience if youre able to grasp the intricacies of dutchs character, to look at him as more than "just a villain".

This turned out to be far more ranty then I wanted, but I am so tired of seeing so much mischaracterization and demonization of a character with literally days worth of content to look at and study that shows some of the points I see from people to just be blatantly wrong. Lol

#speak less #red dead redemption 2 #dutch van der linde #rdr2 #vandermatthews #do people talk in the tags?#i swear i see that sometimes #anyway!! hiii!!!#van der linde gang

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amphirrhvx · 5 months

Text

♡ some bishang headcanons ! 🐍❄️

Shang Tsung can sing! He does not do it often, and inly really does it when he's by himself, but the few times he has done it around Bi-Han, the man absolutely loses it. He really, really likes it when he sings.

Shang knows this. Sometimes, at night whenever they are about to go to sleep. Shang Tsung sings to Bi-Han quietly as he holds him, gently stroking his hair.

Bi-Han adores it. He snuggles into Shang Tsung, holds onto him tight and sleeps like a baby on those nights.

Shang Tsung gives Bi-Han the silent treatment whenever they get into big fights. He refuses to apologize or speak to him unless Bi-Han does so first. But Bi-Han is not having it, and so he holds his ground.

Their little feud ends when either one of them misses the other too much. It’s impossible for them to stop talking to eachother for so long.

Shang Tsung hates, and I mean hates the cold. He gets cold very easily and always complains about it.

Bi-Han knows this, and is very mindful of his cryomancy. Unfortunately, he runs cold anyways. Shang Tsung deals with it, for the most part. He actually likes the feeling of Bi-Han’s cold, large hands on him.

Bi-Han is very reserved and keeps to himself when they are out in public together. The second they’re alone, though? That man is all over Shang Tsung. He would rather die than admit it but he LOVESS physical touch.

They like to watch eachother work. Shang Tsung likes to sit back and watch Bi-Han train/practice and Bi-Han hovers around Shang Tsung as he works on his experiments and such. It’s basically their version of quality time with eachother :)

Absolutely obsessed with one another. In private, they are very affectionate and loving.

Bi-Han calls Shang Tsung “love” and refers to him as “his” a lot (ex. my sorcerer) and Shang Tsung calls Bi-Han “dear” <3 (he also says things like “my dearest Bi-Han/Dearest Bi-Han” often)

(building off of the last one) Bi-Han does not call Shang Tsung pet names often. He only has one or two and uses them rarely. Shang Tsung is the opposite. He calls Bi-Han every damn pet name in the book (he acts like he hates it, but he secretly likes it).

they love to sleep together <3 any position, at any time, it doesn’t matter to them. they like to be close and hold one another and sleep peacefully with the other in their arms ^_^

#shang tsung #bi han #sub zero #bishang #coldsoul #mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #my headcanons #my hcs #I've never done one of these before sorry if its ass #I rlly like them being soft w/ each other so thats literally all of em #live laugh love bishang <3

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yomawari · 3 months

Text

Sketches from the President/Vice President Jefferson era of my modern Jamilton AU, featuring John Adams and my attempts to give Alexander a modern hairstyle without just copying LMM.

I spent some time thinking about Jamilton and Adams while sketching, which I put under the cut because I tend to be very long-winded and my mind went to some odd places.

I find Hamilton's portrayal of Thomas Jefferson's friendship with John Adams interesting when it is examined purely in the confines of the musical and outside any historical context.

I think there are only two references to Thomas Jefferson and John Adams' personal relationship in the entirety of Hamilton:

In the cut version of the The Adams Administration, Hamilton tells Adams to "Say, 'Hi', to the Jeffersons!"

In the Election of 1800, which was historically near the height of the Jefferson-Adams feud, Jefferson says that, "John Adams shat the bed. I love the guy, but he's in traction."

Both lines imply a close, positive relationship between the two characters (and the latter line also informs the audience that Adam's will not be running for re-election because his political career crashed and burned). That's it. There is no clear evidence of the historic Jefferson-Adams feud and broken friendship within the musical, which makes sense since Hamilton is telling the story of Alexander Hamilton but has an interesting consequence: in Hamilton cannon, given the positive statements in the two songs, one can argue that Thomas and John's friendship survives the Washington and Adams administrations.

I mean this was clearly not intended, and I am definitely reading too much into things, but I find the idea really interesting--especially how it impacts any romantic relationship between Alexander and Thomas.

Alexander and John are the two leaders of the Federalist Party; yet, Thomas likes John in spite of their differences while initially being antagonistic towards Alexander. I absolutely believe that Alexander would be jealous of John and his friendship with Thomas. Especially during the early stages of his and Thomas' romantic relationship, Alexander's inferiority complex would arguably give him yet another reason to hate John Adams and cause some unnecessary relationship drama. Meanwhile, Thomas' friendship with John would help Thomas move past his political differences with Alexander in order to pursue a relationship and cause some tension given the John-Alexander feud.

The possibilities for conflict are further fed in a modern political Jamilton AU. It's been a long time since I studied the era, but I remember that one reason why Adams' vice presidency went so poorly is that Adams was not part of Washington's inner circle and the Vice President's authority was pretty limited at the time, so it certainly seemed like Adams didn't "have a real job anyway."

In a modern AU, however, that is not the case. George would have chosen John as his running mate. The Vice President is a vital part of the Presidential administration and has far more authority than in the late 1700s. The Vice President is now constitutionally part of the Cabinet and, in fact, presides over the Cabinet in the President's absence. George couldn't sideline John as much as he historically did, even if he (or Alexander) tried. Given the Thomas-John friendship and John-Alexander enmity, I think John's increased authority and participation in the Washington Administration would have very interesting consequences on the Jamilton rivalry/relationship.

#fanart #jamilton #alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #hamilton musical #hamilton #john adams #modern!au #musings #hamilton fanart #poli #political!au

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gallusrostromegalus · 11 months

Note

PLEASE tell me you have plans/powers for Tatsuki in AEIWAM, she's my biggest pet peeve from Bleach, criminally underused

I don't have a lot with Tatsuki drafted out yet, but she does play a prominent role in the fic, starting with going to Seireitei with the gang instead of Uryuu in the soul society arc. Have this bit with her and Uryuu:

--- Inside urahara Shoten, a few days before everyone* leaves for Seireitei to rescue Rukia: "Ichigo." Uryuu glared magnificently at him, glasses shining in the dingy flourescent lights inside the display room of the Urahara Shoten. "I'm coming with you."

"...Uhhhh-" Ichigo began.

"I know- I have not behaved... rationally, as of late. Setting off an entire pack of hollow bait in the middle of a heavily populated city in some kind of demented dick-measuring contest with a classmate who is only peripherally involved in the cult bullshit my family is trying to escape was. Not the most hinged behavior." Uryuu started.

"That's putting it mildly." Muttered Keigo.

"-But you were right that my anger was misplaced, and you and Rukia both have been so kind to me, that- Look, this grudge between Quincy and Shinigami has gone on long enough- it's gone on so long I don't even really understand why it got started!"

"-Yeah, okay but-" Ichigo tried to speak up.

"So I'm coming with you. If Rukia hadn't stepped in with the portal closure device I don't know what would have happened, and I- I owe her just as much as you do, Ichigo!"

"You do, but-"

"Dammit Ichigo I'm sorry! I'm sorry for what I did and I need to make it up to her and bury this stupid fucking hatchet between our people and-"

"DUDE!" Ichigo shouted, slapping both hands against Uryuu's cheeks and smooshing his face until he looked like an alarmed goldfish with Hyperopia-corrective glasses. "Uryuu- It's okay. You and I are cool. You are Rukia are cool. I don't know all of what's going on with your family and soul society, but I feel like they could eventually be cool too."

Uryuu smiled as best he could with his face compressed like this, tears in his eyes.

"...However-" Ichigo sighed. "Rukia's Boss who runs the whole Soul Society is apparently the kind of maniac that sends people's own family members to arrest and imprison them for minor accidents in the field, which is, as you say, not the most hinged behavior, and not someone who I expect to be cool about anything, but especially not my friend, the son of people who were involved in something called a 'Thousand Year Blood War' with said boss, coming to said boss's house, specifically to commit crime. I feel like that's antithetical to the whole 'No more blood feud' movement."

"...I shee yourg poind." Uryu mumbled, face still smooshed in Ichigo's hands.

"Also, didn't you get hit by a truck?" asked Tatsuki.

"What?" Demanded Ichigo.

"Ah. Yeah." Uryuu said, face still smooshed. "Id'z fine though! Onngly a Hairline Fragture!" he said, gesturing to the middle of his forearm

"Bruh." Chorused Ichigo, Tatsuki, Chad, Keigo and Mizuiro.

"Based on every medical rant I've ever heard both your dads give, you absolutely not be doing magical archery when you've got any broken bone, but especially not a broken radius." Sighed Orihime.

"Well, I mean- You guys still need a Medic!" He tried.

"Orihime's shield can heal... like, anything, apparently." Tatsuki shrugged.

"Oh don't worry, I armed everyone!" Mizuiro beamed, and Uryuu noticed the holsters out on the table where Mizuiro was working. "...Ohg." Uryuu wilted, and Ichigo let go of his face.

"Don't feel too bad," Keigo said, standing on his tip-toes to pat Uryuu's shoulder sympathetically. "-Mizuiro and I aren't actually going either."

"Yeah because I'm also a Quincy, and because you just generally suck." Mizuiro called, returning his attention to the holsters.

"...Actually." Ichigo frowned at Mizuiro. "There IS something you can do here that would help out and I'm sure Rukia will be glad you did."

"Really? I mean, I'll do it." Uryuu smiled. "Its okay Ichigo, you're risking your life, the least I can do is run a few errands and do some sewing here."

"-cool, because I need you to leverage your reputation as a goody-two-shoes and lie to all our families and school about where we are." Said Ichigo.

"...Ah." Uryuu sighed. "I will do this, but I cannot promise results. I am. Not good at deception."

"Doesn't matter, everyone believes you no matter what anyway." Tatsuki shrugged. "Anyway, until then, you wanna come down and watch training while you sew?"

"Uh. Sure?" Uryuu shrugged. "Wait, why do only you three need uniforms? It's not just you guys going, right?"

"Well, Ichigo already got one with his new magical girl powers-" Tatsuki waved, walking towards the back of the shop. "Urahara's a chickenshit and not coming with us, and Yoruichi-san who is coming with us is a cat."

"A... Cat?" Uryuu asked. "Like Kon?"

"-You know? I didn't ask?" Tatsuki frowned, opening up the trapdoor in the back room of the store. "She's really good at Martial Arts though- this Hakuda shit ROCKS! See ya at the bottom!" she grinned, before sliding down the ladder. ---

It took Uryuu a solid twelve minutes to get to the bottom, unwilling to slide like Tatsuki and Ichigo, until Chad grabbed him around the middle near the bottom and set him down.

"Its okay." He said. "It took me a few days to get used to sliding too."

"Th-thanks." Uryuu muttered looking around the enormous room. There was a distant crack like lightning, and Uryuu peered around one of the many boulders in s faux-desert landscaping to see Tatsuki, wearing only a halter top and bike shorts, facing down a small black cat, lighting crackling from between her shoulder blades.

At least, he saw her for a second, before Tatsuki transformed into a blur and then vanished altogether, appearing briefly in little flashes of afterimage, trying to high-kick the cat fifty feet in the air, blocking a return kick from the cat two hundred feet away, throwing a punch right next to him, only to vanish again in a gust of air, even outrunning her own dust trail.

"Did you know that the National Champion of the High School karate Tournament almost always sits the following year out?" Ichigo asked behind Uryuu, making him jump. "Usually from injuries, but I think in her case, Tatsuki will have moved on to an entirely different class of opponent."

"Is- Is Tatsuki also a Shinigami?" Uryuu asked, deeply alarmed.

"No, we don't know what she is, actually." Ichigo shrugged, looking puzzled. And... smelling strangely skunkish.

"Do you have a new bodyspray or are we doing drug violations as well as war crimes down here?" Uryuu winced, nose crinkling.

"What? Oh, the weed. No, I'm not doing weed or anything but Kisuke always REEKS of the stuff- Shit, did it get into my clothes? It's so bad I can't even smell it anymore, my brain just blocks it out-"

"Wait, Kisuke? Like, Kisuke Urahara? Stuptid hat and Geta, looks kind of like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo?" Uryuu asked.

"Yeah!" Ichigo frowned. "...wait, how do YOU know him?"

"...He's uh- hm. Okay, I don't know the exact nature of his business relationship with my father, but I hear dad complain about him raising his prices when he thinks I'm in bed." Uryuu winced.

Ichigo frowned for a moment, before putting his hands on his hips in and turning to holler over his shoulder. "AY SANDALHAT! YOU DEALING TO URYUU'S DAD?"

"Yo, WHAT?" Shouted Tatsuki. reappearing next to them, face full of gleeful anticipation for fresh drama.

"Don't get distraOW!" Yelped Yoruichi as it dove for Tatsuki, only for her to pivot-kick the feline into the far wall anyway.

"GOTCHYERASS!" Tatsuki bellowed triumphantly.

"Okay!" Yoruichi called weakly from a pile of rubble. "Good job there- FUCK, DAMMIT GIRL!!"

"You said 'No Mercy'!" Tatsuki shouted, grinning as she followed Yoruichi across the training ground and set up to axe-kick her into the floor. "NO MERCY!!"

"I am not 'dealing' to Ryukken, I am selling him what would be perfectly legal chemical therapies to treat hollowfication and other supernatural disorders, if the leadership of the living world knew about hollows. Which they don't, but it's not illegal." Kisuke sighed, appearing at Ichigo's shoulder. "Also, what are you doing down here?"

"Tatsuki invited me." Uryuu blinked. "I'm making everyone's shinigami uniforms and providing their alibis.

"And that girl has the nerve to lecture me about Operational Security..." Urahara sighed. "Still, good to have you on board. Don't worry, mum's the word to your families- I don't want to lose some of my best customers!" he winked.

"-Or have another thing for Mr. Kanonji to write you up for!" Tatsuki beamed, appearing again with Yoruichi under her arm. "You're really slow today, do you need to go to the vet or something?" She asked with genuine concern.

"It's his fault for keeping me up all night." Yoruichi groaned, pointing a claw at Urahara.

"-Yeah but the hangover is all you." Kisuke grinned.

"My therapist says I have so many issues with authority and trusting adults because of shit like this, you know." Ichigo sighed.

"I thought those were your daddy issues." Said Tatsuki.

"I mean, they're primarily my Dad's fault, but two out of three of the adults helping us with rescuing our friend from another dimension getting wasted in the middle of training isn't helping." Ichigo glared at Urahara. "Don't let the posture and good nature fool you, watch the sword- the only reason he's not hungover is that he woke up still drunk."

"DUDE!" Tatsuki glared, tossing Yoruichi at him, who he very nearly fumbled catching.

"C'mon Uryuu, let's go say hi to Tessai, THE REAL ADULT HERE-!" Tatsuki shouted over her shoulder, throwing an arm around Uryuu's and walking off while Ichigo lit into the combat instructors about the seriousness of the situation.

"...I have to say, this is not inspiring a lot of confidence in the operation." Uryuu mumbled.

"Yeah, but who else can we talk to? Your dad?" Tatsuki sighed.

"Ugh." Uryuu moaned.

"It'll be okay- I kinda expected them to be a bit of a mess this morning, what with it being the first weekend since Yoruichi got here that we weren't also here." Tatsuki smirked, winking.

Uryuu frowned. "...Are you implying that Mr. Urahara is in a romantic relationship with a Cat?"

"I know, talk about a weird way to get your Pussy!" Tatsuki laughed at Uryuu's distraught expression. "Ease up Uryuu- Mr. Yoruichi passes the Harkness Test as-is, and I'm like... 94% sure he's a shapeshifter. We ride Mr. Urahara pretty hard as a matter of principle, but he and Mr. Yoruichi are actually pretty good teachers most of the time- we just want to keep them to that high standard, you know?"

"Hm. You ah, Have advanced significantly in martial arts since the last time I saw you fight, but that was at the club fair demo event back in March." Uryuu nodded.

"I promise I wasn't zipping around faster than the human eye moves at Nationals last month either." Tatsuki grinned as they approached the far end of the training room, where a strange golden light was glowing, interrupted by flashes of bright blue. "Ah, cool. Mr. Tessai has Orihime and Chad strength-training against each other- Chad wails on her shields until they break or his punchin' arm gets tired, they take a break and do speed training with the kids, Orihime wails of Chad's Shield arm until he drops it or she runs out of energy. They're getting close to a speed-training break so you can ask Mr. Tessai details about Shinigami uniforms." She explained, leaning against a large boulder for cover from stray bolts of energy.

"Ah. Thank you." Uryuu nodded, moving into the lee of the boulder as well. "Do you... Do you really think you're going to be able to save Miss Rukia?"

Tatsuki sighed. "Honestly? No idea. Mr. Tessai has been the best about sharing information about the shinigami with us, but he hasn't lived there for like 100 years, and he doesn't have any idea what's changed or how strong anyone who lives there now is- maybe it'll be easy peasy lemon squeezy, maybe it'll be instant death, but..." She stopped, frowning at the floor. "-I can't explain it, but now that I know? I mean, now that I know a bit? I have to go. I have to know what's going on."

"I can recap what my father told me about my family's history with the Shinigami for your notes after training today." Uryuu offered.

"That'd be great, actually." Tatsuki nodded. "You know, you're a pretty swell guy for an academically overachieving prick that sometimes causes supernatural super-predation events." Uryuu winced. "I- the whole thing with bait was- and I'm so sorry, this is just an explanation, not an excuse- It started because I found the notes my father took when he autopsied Opa, er, my grandfather- his father too."

"Your dad Autopsied his own father??" Tatsuki blanched.

"He autopsied my mother after she died too, and every other Quincy whose body he could get a hold of, to try to understand what... actually causes our abilities, and to know who and what is killing us." Uryuu explained. "-Like, as I found out a few weeks ago, Shinigami."

"Wait, what? What the fuck? Your dad- wait- Okay-" she sputtered, shaking her head. "Alright, alright- One, your Dad is fuckin' hardcore man. Two- Shinigami killed your grandfather? Like? that was recently, right? I though this whole war thing had been over for a while."

"Yeah that's what I thought too!" Uryuu grimaced, slightly manic. "-the last major battle between Shinigami and Quincy happened back in the 1800's and honestly it's not even clear WHY- but I got ahold of Dad's notes and he's pretty sure that- I mean, what happened was that Opa and I were out training- Dad hated it, but I needed to learn some control- and we were attacked by an entire pack of hollows. I was... six? Opa told me to run, and I got away but he didn't. I always thought he'd been torn apart by hollows, and according to Dad's notes, he had been ripped up and would have bled out in minutes, but the thing that struck the killing blow was a Shinigami's Zanpaktou."

"...Shit." Mutteres Tatsuki. "-Not Rukia?"

"No-" Uryuu shook his head, leaning against the boulder and sliding down to sit as Chad and Orihime continued their training, nearly drowning out Ichigo and Urahara's distant bellowing. "She only started her deployment in the living world back in May of this year. Whoever it was, I'd have to look up in the Seireitei's actual archives." He shrugged, taking off his glasses to clean them.

"...Like, I don't want to sound like an apologist but- if your grandpa was already, um, bleeding out- could it have been a mercy killing?" asked Tatsuki, chewing her lip.

"I've re-read my father's notes since the bait incident and ah. I am inclined to believe that's the case, but it's not entirely clear." Uryuu sighed. "The Shinigami destroyed the organ- I say organ, it's more like a systemic response like the immune system- he had the system that allows him to draw Reishi into a weapon destroyed before he had his throat cut. Maybe it was a mercy killing and the Shinigami was scared of him, so he disarmed Opa first. Maybe he neutralized him to bully a dying man. It's really impossible to tell."

"Shit, I'm sorry." Tatsuki mumbled. "-Like, I know that's not the appropriate response but I genuinely have no idea what to say other than that's fuckin' awful man."

"You know? I don't know what I'd want to hear, but that helps." Uryuu huffed a quiet laugh, holding his glasses up to the artificial sun to inspect the lenses for grime before putting them back on. "...But you can see how, reading those notes the first time, I just went... fucking red mist descending sort of thing."

"No, no I get it." She nodded. "...Does Ichigo know?"

"He knows Opa was killed by a shinigami for some reason. Doesn't know how I know and given that his dad knows my dad, and there's bad blood between them about something, I don't want Ichigo to know about my father's secret autopsies."

"You know Ichigo. He's not a narc." Tatsuki prodded Uryuu's shoulder.

"Not to cops or teachers, but he's really honest with his family and I don't want to put him in the position of having to keep an additional secret from them." Uryuu sighed.

"Who is Ichigo keeping secrets from?" asked a strange man, tall and burly with strangely sectioned hair, brass-rimmed glasses and a resplendent mustache, suddenly crouched inches from Uryuu's face.

"EEAUGH!" Uryuu shrieked and Tatsuki immediately uppercut the strange man hard enough to force him to his feet.

"TESSAI! PERSONAL SPACE! WE TALKED ABOUT THIS!" She Shouted.

"My apologies Miss Arisawa." the giant sighed, rubbing his jaw and adjusting his glasses. "-I also recall a conversation about operational security and not letting strangers in here."

"Uryuu is already aware of the greater Shinigami bullshit." Tatsuki waved. "He's here to help, can you give him the specs and details on the Shinigami uniforms we'll need?"

"I see." Tessai nodded, looking down at Uryuu with an analytical glare that made his stomach flip for some reason. He must have passed muster because Tessai nodded and turned back to Tatsuki"Yes, but since Jinta and Ururu are on assignment for the shop, Would you be so kind as to do speed training with Mr. Yasutora and Miss Inoue today instead?"

"Oh, sure!" She chirped, and immediately vaulted over the boulder with a "-LOOKOUT! TICKLE MONSTER GONNA GETCHYU!!" and received a delighted shriek from Orihime and a wail of despair from Chad.

"I didn't catch your surname, young man." Mr. Tessai addressed Uryuu.

"Oh! Um, Ishida. I'm Uryuu Ishida. Your friend? Boss? Mr. Urahara does business with my dad." He sputtered.

Tessai stared down at Uryuu with a strangely somber look for a moment before smiling and bowing politely. "Of course you are. My apologies for treating you like a stranger, Mr. Ishida."

Uryuu blinked up at him, confused.

"Why don't you come have some tea with me while we discuss uniforms?" He smiled, gesturing for Uryuu to follow him. "Miss Inoue speaks most highly of your sartorial skills."

Uryuu nodded and followed, a little more at ease but absolutely certain that wasn't even remotely what Mr. Tessai wanted to discuss.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #Bleach #Bleach fanfic #ishida uryuu #orihime inoue #chad yasutora #ichigo kurosaki #kisuke urahara #yoruichi shihouin #long post

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 5 months

Note

Hello! I need something fluff with Hiccup, like the reader realizing she likes him, gets nervous and avoids him. But he ends up asking her what happens.

That's all! I hope you have a happy holiday with your family, and I'm looking forward to seeing "sorry, but I think I lost your plot" advance !

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 12

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,251

You’re in denial. Hiccup is getting desperate.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, half-fill

You stared at the slightly wilted flower in your hand.

It was a wildflower with small white petals, each a bit peach and tawny as an eggshell. One was a bit bent and smudged with what looked like soot.

“Thank you.” You said.

Toothless sat on the floor on his hind legs.

Hiccup stood in front of you, not quite looking you in the eye, possibly waiting for a response to his earlier question. You had to remind yourself what kind.

“Johannes and Mulch are feuding because Mulch lost a sheep. Johannes doesn’t believe him but he has one extra,” You said, after a moment, “Mulch paid me to smack him on the head. I’m just waiting for him to pick up on it.”

“Would you ever want to-?” Hiccup started and paused hesitantly, carefully, Toothless looking quite annoyed, shifting in his saddle.

“Yeah- Ha, ha! Okay bud, I’m- Let’s go,” Hiccup said awkwardly, voice cracking at nearly the pitch of a squeak and dipping at light intervals as Toothless nosed into him crossly.

You looked at him, face measured in normal proportion, his dragon scaled and leathered in a way that went beyond the style of animation.

You held a small package in one hand as you turned, wrapped securely with cloth in one hand as you walked up from the fields towards one of the many wooden planks lining the village, “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said, as you left him behind.

The morning air was fresh, and though Vikings were early risers, this time the square was empty.

You glanced back after a while, then briefly looked back at the flower again once you were sure you were alone.

You thought, and your face heated slightly with embarrassment.

You felt like electricity was running up and down your spine, though you weren’t quite sure whether or not it was the good kind. You couldn’t say it was.

Did Hiccup like you?

Flowers and nice dates. Those he could do easily.

Then there were books, and chocolate. Hiccup would have to wait for Johann to come back to ask about the second one, and books were also expensive, sort of. He could probably make one.

Hiccup crossed his arms, laying his head on them and soaking in the afternoon light as he sat along a long bench, newly made and freshly varnished, set just outside the Great Hall. he scuffed his foot into the sparse grass clumps below, toe of his boot occasionally catching against them.

He wondered what kind of life you lived before, where gifts like books and chocolate were common instead of axes or swords. Or maybe he was too used to the latter kind being one of the people who usually had to take part in making them. Swords and axes could, too, be very expensive.

What kind of books did you like?

Hiccup scrubbed the back of his head.

He thought of how you helped him work on the fin for Toothless which he did, admittedly, make in an effort to win you over.

It was so easy to just exist like that, even if it was a bit tense. Even if Gobber did reprimand him later for letting someone else mess around in the forge.

Hiccup was too distracted to notice the crunching of footsteps as he approached.

“Why don’t you just a-ask?” Came a familiar voice from behind him, causing his shoulders to jump.

“Fishlegs?!” Hiccup asked, turning around to see the large teen in all his glory. He didn’t realize he voiced his question out loud, earlier.

Hiccup knew he wasn't very intimidating, especially with Toothless out for the count, snoozing away down by the field like the lazy beast he was, yet he scowled anyways.

They were usually on good terms after the Red Death, Fishlegs was the only other guy on the island who was anywhere near as different as Hiccup, though not quite and not really in the same way. Too bad he sucked.

“I-I wasn’t writing them for her,” Fishlegs stuttered, knowing exactly what Hiccup was talking about, even without words.

Hiccup glowered at him, “Then who were you writing them for?”

He sputtered, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” Hiccup grumbled, burying his head back in his arms, “That’s what I thought.”

Hiccup liked you.

How did you react to that? Did you react at all? Could you even call him fictional, anymore? Was this your new reality?

Why was that the first thing your mind jumped to?

Work done, you let your feet wave, sat on one end of the docks, a part hidden under and around the large, unstable-looking pillars holding up the steep ramp back up to the village. The ocean waved under your feet, roiling and crashing, mimicking the larger waves against the rocks and craigs farther out.

The idea that you might have won over a fictional character somehow was sort of ridiculous. It seemed to breach some sort of unspoken boundary, some separation between reality and unreality.

There was a level of permanence to the idea that felt weird to you.

You blinked, the setting sun glazing over the world with orange. You wondered what the rest of the world looked like out here, if everything was the same, if you could venture out into the world and find the place your home should have been standing emptied, occupied by nature and nothing.

You felt at the flower stem in your hand with your fingers, letting it fall until it rested against your tips. You had a hard time believing it was real, keeping it safely tucked away in one of your pockets as you went about your daily life.

Were you and Hiccup even friends? You would like to say that, you realized.

You and he met up more than people who had nothing to do with each other did. He had at least three scars that you could name that had something to do with you.

A friendship was something real.

It was anchoring.

You shivered as the wind blew a cold sea spray onto your face.

You didn’t think you’d ever make it back home. It seemed unreal at this point that you had come from anywhere else, the grass under your feet and the splintered wood of Berk more real and tangible than anything you could reach from your old life with just your mind and your memories.

So, in that way, it wasn’t something you could leave behind.

It was fresh.

How could you like him if you only just realized you were friends?

You weren’t sure you could even muster up the energy to consider it.

You had a hard time believing everything was real sometimes, even as you nervously picked the grit out from under your fingernails.

You changed things. The idea filled you with nervous, jittery energy. It was sort of dangerous, made you feel sort of unsure. It made the world around you seem stranger, a little bit more dangerous.

Did the flowers even really mean anything? How common was it to give flowers here? Sure, it wasn’t that common, but you were certain you heard of it happening at least once.

Of course Vikings gave flowers. Everyone gave flowers, for a million different reasons. You didn’t exactly have an itinerary- no, an encyclopedia- or wifi to look up a reference.

Hiccup was probably just saying thank you or something. The idea made you feel easier, anyways.

It was harder to consider the alternative.

#how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #toothless #fem reader #female reader

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renenenenee · 1 year

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Schrödinger's Satan's cat theory.

satan is not a complicated man. he likes to read, he likes cats, he has 5 brothers, he has 1 enemy. pretty simple stuff. and so when he meets you, someone so complex and at times - a variable at which his mind shows "404" he has deduced that he'll need a 101 lesson on schrödinger's satan's cat theory.

♡. ) satan x fem!reader

"god what the heck is happening in my mind" satan says, like a cat chasing it's own tail, satan paces aimlessly in the library.

what was supposed to be a normal and mundane (well, as mundane as you can get in the house of lamentation) wednesday - had turn into one of stress, panic, and plentiful heartbeats.

asmodeus sighs as he puts down the mirror, a feat at which is a rare sight, "ditto." he looks at the fourth born all disappointed and perplexed. after all, what is happening in his mind?

"what's wrong? got a feud with cupid or something?~" asmodeus teases mindlessly, after all satan of all demons would never even dream of getting involved in the dance of love. cause i mean, c'mon, satan? love? don't make me laugh.

but... if that's truly the case.. why isn't the avatar of wrath retorting back?...

asmodeus had stopped his movement, his mind turning blank, and his heart - unlike the fourth born - stopping. "... wait..." he slowly turns his head towards satan and for the first time in his long, extremely long life - he witnessed something so incredibly beautiful.

"..w-what? why are you just... staring at me l-like that?.." satan covers his mouth, face rosy as if he had been thrown a bucket filled with flowers and songs of heaven's songbirds.

"oh.. my GOODNESS!!" asmodeus squealed, he couldn't believe it! his wrathful yet sensible brother is blushing, looking as if he'd fallen in love - no, no it would be an insult to call this love! it's more than that, surely!

asmodeus immediately rushed over to satan, excitedly prancing around. it seems as though the fifth born had jumped the gun and now he's off to marriage land...

satan pried off his annoying brother, annoyed and flustered that the cat had gotten out of the bag this quickly. agh, how embarrassing.

"ugh, get off me asmo." satan scoffed and started searching for books within the vast shelfs of knowledge, beckoning for something - anything to distract him. "whaa?! how could i possibly run away from something as cute as this!!~" asmodeus giggled.

"so~ who's the lucky girl? well. not really lucky. since she isn't with me but those are just the finer details~" asmodeus teased, practically dying from the lack of information. it seems as though the fifth born was excited to turn the books in the shelves of knowledge to one of satan's experiences with love.

satan's blush burned harder than his anger had ever gotten. a color of pure passion that rivalled even lucifer's pride. "... you're really starting to annoy me asmo..." satan aimlessly grabbed a book, which reminded him of the vast collection in his room. perhaps he could rush there and bury himself.

but satan, as collected as he is, is a being with a limit. a string strong enough to contain his most emotional tendencies but a string weak enough to break off when buttons are pushed right.

and asmodeus had pushed- no, destroyed those buttons.

"c'mon, c'mon, c'mon!!~ a little hint wouldn't hurt, or else i'll start guessing~" asmodeus bargained, huh. who knew you actually could learn something from the second born. but satan wouldn't budge. you're going to have to try a little harder if you wanna break the most patient man to have ever exis- wait where are you going?

asmodeus put out his tongue, "well, if you wanna be that stubborn - then i sure hope you don't mind me telling the others!~" asmodeus waved, on his way exiting the library.

oh no you don't. satan had an average stamina and speed, he wasn't proud but he wasn't upset with it either - but oh boy was he proud now. satan had never felt a sense of dread, this much pressure in his life, so much so he hadn't even intended to grab the back collar of asmodeus this roughly.

"ack!- okay, okay! calm down.." asmodeus tried to catch his breath amongst his surprise.

satan whispered "y/n...", silently hoping his brother hadn't heard but a piece of him - so small it can be considered miniscule, wanted someone he could confide in about his feelings. asmodeus, who had finished coughing, looked up at satan confused "a-ahem.. ugh.. y-y/n what?.."

satan looks away, wanting to hurry up and get this embarrassing part over with. "t-the one.. i think i like.." his heart had flown to heaven upon hearing his admittance. ah, he never expected he'd visit heaven for the first time like this.

asmodeus giggles, "ah.. y/n. well i can't say i'm quite surprised" he smiles. proud of his brother for his brave yet adorable confession. "so~ what do you think you're gonna do next hm?~" asmodeus muses, curious of the fourth born's next step.

however, said fourth born had instead sighed. "ugh, listen. i'm not even sure i like her just yet, i'll need to confirm-" but before he can finish his sentence, asmodeus shook his shoulders in pure absurdity.

"what?!" he screams, "you totally like her!!" this makes the fourth born blush further, a bitter yet sweet argument ignited between the two brothers. one gushing and other- wait, why are you gushing about her?!

"mhh.. that's beside the point! i never took you as someone who'd be so dense.." asmodeus sighs, hopelessly. walking past the avatar of wrath, reveling in how he'd constantly open and close his mouth - ready to argue, but unsure of what to say. what a cute sight.

-tuck... "oh?" asmodeus looks down, the book satan held earlier appeared to have been left on the floor. must've been from when he had strangled and defiled his poor, poor delicate neck (the cynical fourth born swears he's overdramatizing it.)

"hmph! well it'll do no good to loiter around" asmodeus begrudgingly sacrifices himself on a brave journey, bending down to grab the book whilst knowing the dangers of tainting his jeans with soot.

as he pats the book to whisk away any dust, he notices what exactly the book happens to be. "schrödinger's cat theory" it read on the title cover. and suddenly, a lightbulb appeared-

asmodeus turned behind excitedly towards satan, "i know what'll convince you! if i explain your feelings with a concept you'll are obsessed with understand then you'll surely admit you have feelings!" asmodeus showcased the book with a big grin.

satan furrowed his eyebrow, unconvinced and un wavered. however, he'd be running in circles if he keeps denying asmodeus any juicy details - so he might as well indulge in his little games.

asmodeus prepares a comically huge whiteboard (how did he even bring that here?) and coughs loudly, and dramatically really but you probably expected that already.

"you see, my dear brother. i call this!~ the "satan's cat theory! ♥" asmodeus squeals, as he draws a doodle of a grumpy satan followed by little cats (that satan approves of) around the canvas.

asmodeus draws a much cleaner and adorable sketch of you. one with a version inside a box, and the other without. "now now, as you can see here-"

satan interrupts the class session to input, what he determines, as a valuable criticism. "hang on.. this is supposed to be satan's cat theory. i don't see how that drawing of her is supposed to be related to a cat" satan folds him arms and scoffs.

asmodeus sighs and mumbles about how he's being dramatic. asmodeus pouts "hey! im already impatient enough as is, he have to start the lesson alright?!" he whines, much to satan's dismay.

"imagine this here, this drawing of y/n is how you see her at the moment. her being her normal-cute self!~" asmodeus giggles, "but now look over here!" asmodeus erases the normal doodle, and draws an obnoxious red circle around the version of you inside a box.

"now this is a metaphor of your feelings! y/n is inside that box, and she's in a state where you either like or love her. and you won't know until you open that box!"

satan raises an eyebrow "and.. how is that supposed to help me?" upon questioning he immediately receives a groan as a reply. "how can you not tell where im going with this?!" asmodeus whines,

"agh, at this point i might have to miss out on that clothing sale just to get through your thick and unpretty skull.." he sulks, but satan didn't seem to receive that remark quite lightly...

asmodeus however, ignores the green flame igniting behind him and continues on, "and now, let's say you open that box and see what you truly feel for y/n" asmodeus then flips the whiteboard to showcase what's on the backside.

satan grows intrigued, he wasn't expecting such effort from his brother (much less how he's even accomplished this in such a short notice). asmodeus beams and waves his hand, "tada!!!"

a picture of you was taped in front of a doodle of a box opening up to reveal it's insides. however, the doodle wasn't what satan was focusing on...

is that... is that... no.... it can't be.. it can't possibly be...

is that a picture of you with cat ears?!?!

"OI?! how did you even-" satan gets up, flustered at the sight and slightly enraged. however, asmodeus quickly rips off (much to satan's cringe) the picture from the whiteboard and sways his finger.

"at-tat-ta~ you can't get this picture until you figure out what the key to this lesson is ♥" he teases. "!!!" satan, baffled at the confidence of his brother, grows even more flustered and flushed.

c'mon satan..!! think!! you are definitely the smartest in the house of lamentation (though, lucifer would beg to differ) so he definitely can't let love drive him stupid. alright, what's the key to the lesson, what was asmodeus going on about and....

hold on. let's back track.

"c-cant.. let...." satan mumbles under his breath. asmodeus, not quite catching what his dear cynical fourth had muttered, lets out a hum of confusion.

"... drive.. me.. s-stupid..." the mumbling becomes clearer, and clearer. "ehh hey.. why are you all mumbling and being weird there?" asmodeus tries to get his brother back to reality, until when he suddenly--

"AGH!!! ASMOOOOO" geez! it's like it was lucifer yelling for mammon all over again! asmo jumps in response, confused and shocked at the sudden outburst. "L-LOVE ITS... I-ITS LOVE GOD DAMMIT" satan yells, and for the first time in a long while, it seems as though he's come back to embrace his demon form.

"eek!!" asmodeus runs off to seek protection by his other kinder and less wrathful brothers. satan seemed to regain a bit more relief once asmo was out of his sight. especially when he noticed that he ended up dropping the picture of you with... those darn cat ears...

the picture, without him even knowing, had subconsciously returned him back to his original form. now much calmer with a clearer mind, he runs his hands through his hair.

"sighs... love, huh.." he whispers to himself, a moment to collect his feelings and thoughts. he falls down to take a seat on top of the arm chair. even though he resists looking at the picture of you, for the sake of his beating heart, he still ever so tightly grips it - scared that it'll fly away so easily.

he sighs once more, for what seemed like the 10th time today, he mutters to his heart "how am i supposed to face her now... ah god dammit. that stupid... and cute lesson..." he feels heat rushing through his body again, at the mere thought of such a cute concept.

satan's cat theory, huh? well.. he hopes he can miss the due date for homework, as he needs more time for research and less time for dilly dallying.

he says, as he pockets the picture.

#obey me x reader #satan x reader #obey me x mc #obey me #obey me fluff #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #satan x mc #satan x you

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