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makeitagood0neao3 · 3 years

Text

Safe Inside

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2,754

Warnings: Non/con. Explicit sexual content. Dark!Peter Parker AU. 18+ only!

The knock on your apartment door couldn't have come soon enough. After a long, tiring day working virtually, all you wanted was your take out, likely still warm from the restaurant downtown. Hair in a messy bun, long shirt covering a pair of shorts you padded to the door. Looking through the peephole, just to be safe. You couldn’t be too careful nowadays.

You opened the door to see your usual delivery guy standing before you, grey Supreme hoodie beneath a black coat, the hood pulled over his head. In his hand were the handles of a plastic bag as he balanced a soda on top of it.

“Greek delivery for a pretty lady in apartment 410?” He asked, barely able to contain his smile.

“Hey Pete,” you greeted, matching his energy. “I just Venmo’d you.”

“You better not have included a tip, Y/N.” Peter handed over the soda and bag before grabbing his phone from his pocket to check for the transaction. “I told you to stop tipping me.”

“I know you did,” you answered smuggly. “But you deserve a tip when you give me life by baklava.” He smiles back before peering into the apartment behind you. He was always doing that; checking, observing. You only ever ordered dinner for one, but that didn’t stop him from being curious. Not one to easily trust, you know the little world you built can be easily destroyed if you let the wrong person in.

He never asked if you were seeing someone or overstepped. The most flirting you had done with this younger man was to tell him that if he got straight A’s this semester at the university, you’d invite him inside for a drink.

“Yeah, yeah. I appreciate you. I gotta run, but I’ll text you.” He waved and made his way down the hall.

Using your foot to kick your door closed you locked it with your free hand and set the food down on the counter. Setting your Spotify playlist to shuffle on 80’s rock before digging in at your tiny dining room table that barely fits in your small apartment.

You met Peter on a whim. Never one to plan meals out in advance, you were often left to starve or eat cereal for dinner after working. Never one to leave your apartment when it was dark out, you settled for having dinner delivered. Peter was delivery guy on a food delivery app and learned your dinner routine and favorites quickly. Which was surprising, because you couldn’t possibly be the only person in Queens ordering take out every other night.

And he couldn’t be the only delivery guy around, but he somehow became your usual delivery guy and you, his regular. Usually one to get chips as a side at a nearby deli, you didn’t order any one evening. He messaged you No chips tonight?

It surprised you, but you brushed it off, telling him you were cutting back on junk food. He dropped off the meal at your door with a knock, but by the time you opened it, he was gone. Sitting at the top of the paper bag was a bag of your favorite chips.

Always one to drop off your food quickly and not stay to chat, you caught him one night to thank him and tip in cash. Since then, you two would talk in your doorway briefly, mostly keeping your friendship to text as you were both busy. After a year of limited in person social interaction, any casual conversation over your threshold was greatly accepted. One day soon you’d venture outside, but with the availability to have nearly everything delivered, you doubted that day would come soon. You just weren’t ready.

Soon you ditched the app and just text him when you wanted dinner and he dropped it off to you. The price for you didn’t change, but gave him some extra. You honestly didn’t know why he chose to deliver food; he was always dressed extremely nicely in name brand clothes and you later found out he has a lucrative position at Stark Industries.

Once you had asked him why he chose to do this, in the literal rain and snow, and he told you that it was something to do. He got bored often and it was better than sitting in a lab all night. He made it seem like he did this for several people, but you didn’t see how he had the time to.

In the middle of scrolling on your phone, there’s a slow delay in registering what you’re seeing. Shaking your head and blinking hard, the sensation didn’t go away. Your body seemed to relax as a deep buzz set in and your body movements sluggish. Bringing the fork up to your mouth for another bite, you missed completely, the rice pilaf dropping onto the table. You tried for another bite and this time succeeded.

Are you... high?

You tasted the mineral chalkiness before you noticed the white powder poorly mixed into your rice pilaf. Brain fuzzy, you tried to analyze the substance. Thinking it strange, you drank from your take out cup of soda to wash it down. It became harder to swallow each sip, but you had already finished half the meal.

A knock at your door echoes through the wood. Each footstep towards the door bounces between your ears. Struggling with the lock, you finally got it open, your legs almost numb and your arms heavy. On the other side of the threshold stands Peter, his hood over his head, eyes assessing you through his lashes as his head angles down.

“Pete?”

You feel his arms around you before the whoosh registers in your head. Blinking hard, you are lying on your back, limbs heavy. Some time must have passed, but you can’t be sure.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered from above you. “I think I gave you too much.”

Struggling to keep your eyes open, a shiver blankets your skin. You let out a whine when your tongue refuses to curl with your words. It lies heavy, your jaw loose as you slur out questions.

“Peter?” You try again. Your question is slurred and there’s a pitched whine to your voice.

“Shhh, this is for your own good.”

“Mmph” you mumble, unsure if you actually feel hurt right now at this moment. Your movements are heavy and slow, like running through water. Your back is against something soft that smells like your fabric softener. Your bed. When did you get here?

“I’ve wanted you for so long. Now I can finally have you.” His hands seem to be frantic as he pulls your shorts from your hips and down your thighs before discarding them. Is he frantic or is this normal speed? His coat is gone and he pulls his hoodie over his head, his shirt stuck inside it. He’s next to you a fraction of a moment later

His warm hands graze your hips as he pulls the oversized shirt off of you, the crack of static electricity sparking from your hair as it's pulled through the collar in your ears. His hand gently rests your head back down on the pillow. You whine again and try to cover your bare chest with your small hands. He notices and pulls them away.

“You’re so beautiful,” he reassures, mistaking your modesty for insecurity. He’s lying on top of you now, chest to chest. The heat of his bare skin as he presses into you, his hands tracing the shape of your waist and hips. He seems to be mesmerized.

“We can’t-” you want to scream, but even you aren’t sure your thoughts matched what came out of your mouth. Your hands try to push him off of you, but he’s too solid, too in control. When that doesn’t work, you slap his chest, but you don’t really feel the impact on your palm. You’re too numb. He grabs your wrist.

“I don’t use my hands to harm and you won’t either.” He says this firmly, eyes locked on yours, but follows up with, “Behave or I’ll have to tie you up so you don’t hurt yourself.” The latter comes out softer, more timid like the Peter you know.

His head dips down as he places sloppy, unpracticed open mouth kisses on your neck and shoulder. Quickly this turns into full sucking. You angle your chin to the side, scanning your nightstand for something, anything to help you. You eye a book, hardcover, heavy hand reaching up to grab for it. Maybe you can hit him hard enough to buy time.

Peter catches your movement and lets out an irritated, though shaky, sigh as it leaves his lips. “What did I say?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, silver device. He grabs both of your arms and places each palm on an iron bar on the headboard before a white, sticky, material shoots from it and seals your hands to it. You pull, but they don’t budge. He tosses it aside and slides down your body as you fight against your restraints.

The cool air brushes against you where your panties were. Vision unfocused, try to reconcile the split image of him and merge it into one. It’s dim in here, but it looks like he has your panties in his fingers as he tosses them aside. He lowers himself to his forearms, eyes never leaving your face. Or you think he’s looking at your face.

His nose brushes against your slit, tentatively, as you flinch. Your tongue is motionless in your mouth, but feels swollen, like it will suffocate you. All the things you want to say are being swallowed in your constricted throat.

His tongue pokes out as you manage to shake your head a fraction bit side to side. It probes your folds, uncertain. It takes him a few attempts, but he seems to find a technique he likes. The flat of his tongue swiping up as he breaks eye contact and his eyes roll back, indulged in the taste of you.

The sight of him enthralled in your most delicate region forces a squeak from you. His eyes snap open and his hands grip your hips a bit harder as he dives his mouth onto you. Seemingly encouraged by your noises and movements.

“You taste so good, baby.” He says, breathless, before he dives back in. Suddenly, his mouth finds your clit and he flicks his tongue against it hard. It’s too much pressure and it has you wriggling, brow furrowed.

He seems to notice this, because he modifies and begins sucking on your clit instead. A shock wave is sent through you, your hips angle up to meet his mouth eagerly. Taking this as a sign to continue, he inserts two fingers inside you, stretching your hole.

Quivering, you try to fight off the orgasm building, thighs clenching his head. He seems superhuman as his fingers never cease their rhythmic curling inside you and his mouth sucks the life from you. Whatever he gave you makes it impossible for you to take deep breaths and the orgasm that drenches your body in sweat steals the air from your lungs. He slows his motions as you ride his fingers and mouth before slowly removing both from you.

He seems proud of himself as he says, “I’ve always wanted to do that to you.” It’s almost endearing, but then you remember you’re drugged and bound.

Stalking you like the prey you are, he crawls up your body and slides his pants and briefs off his hips. He’s already hard as you try to focus your vision on him. Unable to tell how thick he is, you wonder if it will hurt. Perhaps if he caused you pain, your body would snap and find the adrenaline you need to get away. You pull against the bars again, hoping to break free. In the very least, your head lulls side to side in protest.

“I didn’t bring a condom, but we don’t need to worry about that. I’ll always take care of you.” He says, his forearm resting next to your head while his other hand reaches down, lining himself up with you. He pushes forward, breaching your entrance. Removing his hand, it moves to cup your head in his hand, sound muffled as he presses his palm hard against your skull.

Unable to move your head as he cradles it, your eyes flutter, unable to make him out clearly. His eyes penetrate yours, his eyes a deeper brown than you noticed before. His lips are parted as he catches his breath.

He slowly pushes forward, inch by inch. Your wet channel stretches and forms to him as he slips inside you. Despite the heaviness in your limbs and numbing to your skin, you can feel how your body accommodates him. The feeling of him is amplified by his heavy breathing in your ear as he pulls back and slams back into you.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” You try to tune him out, the only thing you really focus on is the wet sound of your slick as he draws more from you. Your body operates on sensation alone and all you can feel is him. He finds a rhythm that seems inhumanly fast as his hips push yours into the mattress harder and harder.

He presses his chest against yours again and you can’t tell whose body temperature is higher. The desire within you builds. Fighting through the haze, you cry out, spine arching off the bed. The fabric is damp beneath your hips and you wish you could be embarrassed by it.

Both of your breaths grow louder, more frantic. On particular thrusts when he tilts his hips. the tick of his cock angles up to hit your g spot, you let out a moan. Encouraged by this, the corner of his mouth lifts into a cocky smile.

“Louder, baby.” He commands breathlessly, seeming to find his courage.

He lifts his chest from yours and kneels, his hands lifting your hips up with him, your ass no longer on the bed. Grabbing for your ankles, hooking your heels over his brawny shoulders, he slams back into you. His forearm wraps around your shins, holding them in place while his opposite fingers find your sensitive clit. Letting out breathless gasps, you can’t catch your breath or restrain your vocal cords. He continues plowing into you, fingers rubbing diagonally, frantically, against you.

“Come for me, Y/N. Soak my cock.” Something about this version of Peter, this feral side of the sweet delivery guy you thought you knew, makes you come again. Eyes rolling back, your lids closing as his hips become frantic. He squeezes your legs like a lifeline as he comes inside you, a loud grunt from above you.

He pulls out of you and lowers your hips to the bed. The euphoria sets in and your taught muscles relax into the bed. Leaning over you and he connects his nose with yours as he catches his breath. You’re both hot, a thin layer of sweat over your skin, but that could be from whatever he gave you. Your shoulders are stiff and you try to tug again on the headboard.

“Oh,” he chuckles, “those will dissolve soon.”

Abruptly, he gets up, wiping his cock against the inside of your panties, before he slips them back on and settles them on your hips. His come drips out of you and into the panties, keeping you wet and reminded of him. How did this happen? You never let anyone inside the safety of your home.

Moments pass as you process this. Faintly, you hear his feet on the carpet before he’s back in your room, sipping on the soda he brought you.

“Thirsty?” He asks and angles the straw to your mouth.

“My shoulders hurt,” you murmur out.

“Then next time don’t fight me. I think you understand that now, don’t you?”

Even without touching you, he is still inside of you. There is a faint pulsing from your clit that radiates down to the soles of your feet. Rhythmic and matches your pulse as you come down. Your arms and thighs goosebump from the chill in the air and you can feel the balloon in your head deflate. But you’re still unable to respond to him so you lie there, surrendering to his power over you.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #peter parker #spider-man #inappropriate use of web slinger #dark fic

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saphirered · 3 years

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Percy and Bad first times? I love these asks thank you!

I do not know why it took me approximately an eternity to write this but I finished it. I hope it will have been worth the wait. 😘

(Percy)

The moment Percy walked into your life you thought he was very much the egotistical rich kid. First impressions weren’t great as he concluded that wether or not you came from money or status, you rebelled against the social norms of high society. You two were polar opposites and anyone who said opposites attract; you were the proof against that claim for the longest time.

At the realisation you wouldn’t be leaving any time soon Percy tried to school you in manners for his sake correcting your behaviour and even words like you were some insolent child. You did not take this well and the argument that followed, unavoidable. Many things were said, some neither of you are proud of and you didn’t speak for days unless it were some snide remarks.

Then it came to a job to interact with high society people and you got to show Percy how wrong he was as you properly addressed the people, held your posture correctly and picked every word eloquently. Taken aback by your complete 180 in behaviour a conversation was in order. You got the pleasure telling Percy his ‘lessons’ had nothing to do with this and unlike some people you’d rather not be a pompous ass with a superiority complex like some people.

This lead Percy to dive into some research trying to find your name and family name, tapping into all resources at his disposal to figure you out telling himself you might be a threat if you were hiding things. He was not prepared to find out what happened with your family and faced you with the fact he found your past. The first one on one you had was Percy quite literally cornering you so you couldn’t avoid him. Admittedly not his proudest moment. You needed to talk so talk you did.

Telling Percy your story and trusting him with it might have been the first time you’ve told anyone since you left your home. In turn to set the record straight he told you what had happened with his own family. You came to the conclusion you’re not so different after all. A mutual understanding and trust formed between the two of you, though your arguments did not end with you disagreed on a matter. Rarely did you give the other the silent treatment and instead came to an agree-to-disagree conclusion if compromise was not an option. In time, they’d cease to be arguments all together and simply turn into conversations.

At this point you might even have considered yourselves friends. You found yourselves spending more time together. Percy was raised the so-mani-eth child extremely unlikely to be the heir of his family but with the tragedy that befell them, only he and his sister remained. You were raised to continue your family’s legacy but had lost everything. When Whitestone was returned to the surviving De Rolo’s you promised to give aide in any way you could.

Vox Machina, taken in a different direction you stayed behind with Cassandra. You took no titles or lands no matter how many times, Cassandra and the council offered them. In his time away from you and his home he came to realise he’d begun missing your company, the conversations and having to be the smart and semi-responsible one of the group. Not only that, you’ve been a rock in the current that’s his chaos and with you away he feels he’s more likely to fall to the temptations placed in front of him. Proof of that; the trip to the city of Dis.

When this realisation hits Percy he’ll take any opportunity to spend more time with you. He doesn’t inject himself into your daily life but any time there’s a reason for him to be present he’ll take it. Him coming clean about the contract and handing it to you for safekeeping trusting you that no matter the circumstance you’ll never give it to him, you absolutely go apeshit on him. How could he be so damn stupid. A deal with a devil? Really?! All the what ifs… It made you realise your anger and disappointment came from a place of affection.

You made Percy promise he’d tell you when he’s thinking of doing something stupid he’ll tell you before doing the thing. Before he leaves for another adventure or comes back from one you’ll go on a walk, have dinner or just relax somewhere. Sometimes you’ll talk, sometimes sit in silence, whatever you feel like in that moment. You’d begun holding hands, hugging or a kiss to the cheek before departure or upon return, tiny displays of affection.

You were informed Percy had died, but as Grog told you, he got better. Reasonably so you freaked out but you were also aware of the risk of the adventurer lifestyle, more accurately the lifestyle of someone with enemies like Percy. That didn’t mean you didn’t feel like your heart just shattered in that moment. You cared for Percy until he recovered. It’s the first time you truly saw Percy weak, not of mind wavering to a pact with an entity or the likes, but mentally done.

Percy first realised he might hold more than affections for you when you promised him that you’d always have one more thing for him to do. No matter how messed up the world looked, there’d always be a place for him with you. He’s not stupid enough to think this doesn’t come out of a deep affection of your own but he can’t be too sure it’s love either. It’s obvious you care for him, and maybe you do love him but are you in love with him? He’s not sure. Is he in love with you? He’s unsure. He knows he cares about you immensely and loves you just as much and that’s enough for him.

Percy is a man of impulse. This comes in especially handy when someone lacks courage to do something. He doesn’t approach you for your first ‘official’ date. It was just like any other outing you’d gone on or time you spent together except for the fact Percy asked you out, letting slip it was a date. If just asking you this was already so difficult he definitely would need a bottle of courage or two admitting his feelings out loud.

You’re clever enough and know how to read people enough that you weren’t oblivious to Percy’s recent changes in behaviour towards you. You were also clever enough to place them and, when courage fails you’re not one to beat around the bush. You called him out and half fearing you’d turn him down, he was proven the opposite when you pulled him in by the ascot and kissed him. Surprising but not unwanted.

Seeing no need in defining your relationship for others, you also didn’t ease the others into this development. Watching you kiss Percy passionately before he was off on another adventure leaving everyone around very surprised. So surprised they missed the mark on Keyleth’s transport via plants. Bombarded with questions about when or how this happened Percy didn’t want to indulge them with answers and instead spent more time with you.

Of course you had shared sleeping spaces before. You weren’t strangers to sharing a bed but you can comfortably say, it became much more comfortable after you first shared your bed together as lovers in the afterglow, waking up like a sweaty mess. Sharing baths after became the norm to freshen up and relax. The perfect excuse to spend more time together and have everyone else gagging after the look you’d share when asked why you missed breakfast… and lunch…

It took a long while before you first found yourselves able to exchange I love you’s but when danger came knocking at your door and you were thrown back into the fight for Tal’Dorei with Vox Machina’s allies it was now or never. Seeing things go south you got the pleasure of teaming up with a brass dragon to kick some undead ass.

“Before we both do something incredibly stupid I want you to know I love you.” Simple and efficient and to the point.

“I am tempted to hold these words for myself until after we’ve saved the world. Call it motivation to stay alive but since you made such an effort already. I love you too, dear.” Asshole. What did you expect. The feeling was mutual.

(Caduceus)

The first time you met Caduceus you’d killed someone in not too far out from Shady Creek. The down side, you killed someone important. They came after you, you protected yourself but then you had a body to deal with. You heard about the cursed place, and decided to just bury it there. You didn’t expect to find a dopey pink haired firbolg to be living at the heart of the place. He was surprisingly helpful in burying the body you brought to the point you were almost sure you’d be buried right next to your victim soon. Luckily for you you were proven wrong.

You couldn’t really return to Shady Creek and it’s not like you had much of a home there so you wandered the forests hunting and gathering for food and warmth at night avoiding the cursed places and dangers as much as you could. You couldn’t and returned to the safety of the Blooming Grove. So you made a deal, you’d stay with the firbolg, help him out at his graveyard, cemetery, whatever it is and he’d give you a place to sleep at night.

You resorted to staying inside the small temple sleeping on the floor but soon enough, Caduceus invited you to just take one of the beds in the house and stick around instead of leave at dawn to find food, removing some weeds, watering some plants, and return at dusk. No more wandering you fell into more domestic tasks solidifying your roommate life with the man. It had been a while since either of you were in (good) company so you appreciated anything that could talk and wasn’t trying to murder you.

In your time spent with Caduceus you heard bits and pieces about his family but what didn’t add up for you were the beds and belongings he didn’t touch or did so with care to keep them clean. When you got the courage to ask Caduceus told you the story of Clay, Stone and Dust and how his family left to save the Grove and perhaps even the Savalirwood as a whole. It felt odd to actually talk to someone about them that’s not him to himself. He appreciated your compassion, telling him that they’d come back home and with the stories he told you hope you’d get to meet them one day.

Caduceus’ expert prepping of meals left you wanting to be able to do the same. Of course he was happy to teach you and with his guidance you cooked your first meal. It wasn’t the best but definitely beat anything you could make on the road by yourself. The spices are to die for. You found yourself falling into the habit of cooking together; a nice way to end the day.

You were having a particularly tough day and ready to just curl up and let the world consume you, there was no hiding from your friendly firbolg roommate. He knew what’s up but gave you a chance to come to him. You didn’t so he came to you. He didn’t say anything, just sat next to you with a cup of tea, set another one in front of you and stayed quiet until you were ready to talk or get back to your business if you didn’t. He wasn’t going to pry in personal matters unless you asked him.

An encounter with a nasty creature you were unable to scare off and away had Caduceus pinned to the ground. With enough courage and some knowledge of physical combat you managed to get the creature off and injure it enough so it fled. Pulling Caduceus to his feet you were engulfed in a hug with a thank you. As is common knowledge Caduceus hugs are the best hugs you found yourself asking for more. Caduceus wasn’t at all opposed to keep this a thing as he’d always enjoyed hugs.

With the two of you growing closer, living together you decided to sit down and talk about what you had and where it was going as neither of you wanted to accidentally lead on the other or set expectations that could not be met. Neither of you were looking for romantic love or romance at all. Some might refer to you as bestest of friends or life partners but that didn’t really seem to fit. You’re just you and Caduceus is him and you liked hugging and spending time together, going through the motions of life and that’s all you needed.

When the Nein came along looking for help, Caduceus offered for you to stay behind, the Blooming Grove was just as much your home as it was his but you went along anyway. You’d never left the forest. Never travelled south either but many adventures found their way to you and you’d be spending them with you with Caduceus through all the ups and downs. The Nein got so used to your dynamic they never questioned it. It was just something that existed and was happening and quite frankly, one of the few normal things about you and the firbolg.

When the day came you found the Clay family you got to be there for Caduceus as he had for you. Meeting them for the first time they lived up to the stories you’d been told. The Clays were very happy to meet Caduceus’ friends but upon learning about your connection to him they were relieved he hadn’t been all alone for all those years they were gone and had some company. They offered you to come back with them but just like Caduceus, there was still some unfinished business and these people, the Mighty Nein still needed your help.

Then, when everything came to a close, you returned to the Blooming Grove and spent the rest of your days there living content. It had been your home and would continue to be your home. The Clays became your family and for the first time in forever you could see yourself content at home leaving with Caduceus to travel at times but always return to that little spot in the Savalirwood.

#critrole x reader #critical role x reader #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #caduceus x reader #caduceus clay #critical role #percival x reader #percy x reader #vox machina x reader #vox machina

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a-froger-epic · 3 years

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Get out your glitter leotards and pour some champagne in your cat mugs! 🥂 🍾 It’s time to celebrate Freddie! 🎉😸

🎊 Freddie Mercury Weekend 2021 🎊

❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

ABOUT THE EVENT

This weekend is a content creation event in honour of the man himself, the legend we all love, Freddie Mercury! Once more, everyone who is inspired by Freddie is invited to share their creativity with the fandom. You can write, draw, edit, record, even cross-stitch 😉 content for absolutely anything related to Freddie, any ship, any genre, any way you like. This is an indiscriminately inclusive, positive event. Everyone is welcome, there is no wrong way to be a fan of Freddie! (Except convincing yourself you're dating his ghost maybe. That's pretty wrong. And weird. Don't do that.)

WHEN? On the 21st, 22nd and 23rd of May.

HOW? On the above dates (or after!), post your contributions to the AO3 collection or alternatively on Tumblr, tagged ‘#fmw2021’ or/and ‘#freddie mercury weekend 2021’. If you post on Tumblr, please also tag @a-froger-epic to make sure you get a reblog from me!

❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

THE PROMPTS

You can be as free with the prompts as you like. They are here to inspire, there is no wrong way to write them! Change them around, mix them up, make them fem!Freddie, A/B/O, add your favourite ship. Anything goes! 😊

21st of May - 500-1000 word challenge!

We’re kicking off the event with ficlets and drabbles. First time writer just testing the waters? No need for an epic, just write a scene! No time to write but you want to participate? Surely you’ll find time for 500 words! 😉 Interpret these mini-prompts however you like (every one is a separate prompt, but you can combine them!):

Make-Up 💄 | Pain/Pleasure 👀

Strip 👕 | Ring 💍

Forbidden 🤫 | Delilah 🐈

Piano 🎹 | Dormitory 🛏

Outrageous 🎉 | Contentment 😌

Come Together 🎇 | Ballet 🩰

Piece of Art 🎨 | Leather 🧥

Cockring 🐔 | Kimono 👘

Petals 🌸 | Leotard 🕺🏻

Mustache 🧔 | Last Time 😔

22nd of May - Is This The Real Life?

A list of real event/canon timeline prompts from Freddie’s life. How real you want to keep them, however, is entirely up to you!

Down in flames

Freddie is 16 years old when he leaves boarding school. Does it have something to do with the school gardener, Sanjay? Did he flunk his exams or did he not even sit them? Is one thing connected to the other? Does he really find a boyfriend when he goes to stay with his aunt in Mumbai (then Bombay)? Either way, there’s the small matter of his parents finding out about all of it... (Sources: x x )

When Freddie met Kenny

Freddie is a guest on Kenny Everett's radio show in spring 1974. Freddie is living with Mary, Kenny is married. Two gay men, deep in the closet. To no one's surprise, they hit it off immediately. (Source: x )

But when did he?

At some point during his relationship with Mary, prior to his relationship with David, Freddie had already begun sleeping with men. But how and when did that first happen? Cottaging in London? On tour somewhere in the world? Your guess is as good as ours…

Flying High

Sex, Drugs and Rock n' Roll. Like all rock bands of their time, Queen doesn’t escape the copious amounts of cocaine in the entertainment industry for long. Somewhere on tour in America, perhaps, Freddie is first introduced to it. Where? How?

Hide your tears

Jim said that he tried to be strong for Freddie and only cried in private, so as not to burden Freddie with his feelings. But this time, he is found.

One-liners:

In 1969, Freddie doesn’t know how to cook an egg and neither does Roger (Source: x )

In 1977, Freddie meets Joe while on tour in Boston and starts dating him behind David's back

In 1990, Brian and Freddie work on 'The Show Must Go On' (Source: x )

In a year of your choice, Jim reminisces about his fondest moment(s) with Freddie

In 1976, Freddie and Mary end their relationship

In 1984, Winnie gives Freddie a wedding ring (middle of the post: x )

In the late 60s, Freddie agrees to model for an Ealing Art School fashion show, but panics and flees the runway (Source: x )

In 1974, Freddie is strip-searched upon arrival in Australia (Source: x )

In 1982, Freddie and Roger go shopping in Amsterdam (Source: x )

In 1978, Freddie swings from a chandelier - naked (Source: x )

23rd of May - Is It Just Fantasy?

A list of AU prompts to spark your imagination. Take them and run with them or change them up, just have fun!

Make your dreams come true

Freddie hasn't been very fortunate in his life, until he finds a very special oil lamp, and rubs it just the right way.

Beautiful stranger

Freddie meets an alluring stranger at a masquerade ball, who has more secrets than he can hide behind a mask. But Freddie has some of his own.

Thicker than water

Freddie agrees to a dreadful fate in order to save his little sister from the very same. Fortunately, he has friends who are more than willing to help him, but can they? Or are they, too, in danger?

Diamonds are a boy's best friend

Freddie is the prized jewel of the court, a skilled belly-dancer and entertainer, but he may also be plotting murder and getting away with it.

Almost Real

In a distant future, humans have all but done away with face to face interaction. Humanity largely lives online. Children grow up isolated and live with only their families well into young adulthood. Cybersex is the new normal, although some families take a puritanical approach for fear of addiction. One day, impossibly, a real life young man falls through the containment field in Freddie’s back garden.

One-liners:

This plane is going to crash (Freddie knew there was a reason he hated flying)

Shipwrecked on an island (Freddie could never bear to be alone, but luckily/unfortunately for him…)

Hunger Games AU (Freddie is so dead)

A terrible road accident (Everyone is so dead, or are they?)

Blind Date AU (Freddie's best friend is so dead for setting him up with this person… or are they…)

Bank robbery (but who are the robbers and who are the hostages?)

Magic AU ("Yer a wizard, Freddie!")

Film Noir AU (Secrets and cigarette holders)

Interior Design AU (Does the carpet match the drapes?)

The Bodyguard AU (“And I will always love yooouuuu…”)

❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

RULES & FAQ

⛔ Strictly No Hate ⛔

This is the NUMBER ONE RULE of the event, to ensure that everybody feels safe. No rudeness, provocations or hate aimed at creators or other commenters will be permitted, not on AO3 nor Tumblr.

Follow these steps if you receive a comment or ask that distresses you:

Do not engage. (You can take a screenshot as proof.)

Delete it. No ifs, no buts. Just delete it. (Don’t hesitate to block anon hate on Tumblr.)

Alert me ( @a-froger-epic ) or @aboutnothingness, who is lending me a hand to make sure all needs are attended, all questions are answered and everything runs smoothly. We are here to actively support you. We’ve got your back, and we will gladly talk to you and help you feel better.

If you choose to ignore this rule, your work may be removed from the event. We would hate to resort to that.

But what if one of the works has upset me?

Can the thing that upset you be tagged, but it wasn’t? Then please inform @a-froger-epic or @aboutnothingness, and we will bring it to the creator’s attention. (Remember to use the appropriate tags, everybody!)

Was the thing that upset you already tagged? Or is it perhaps simply the characterisation you find disagreeable? Then we suggest you click on the ‘back’ button, take a deep breath and remind yourself it's just fanfic.

Who can participate?

Anyone who is inspired by Freddie Mercury in any way shape or form. This event is open to all.

Can I combine prompts from different days?

By all means! We look forward to your futuristic Freddie-gets-kicked-out-of-boarding-school Maycury Film Noir AU. With leotards. Go crazy.

I'm not sure where my creation fits in, what day do I post it?

The days, like the prompts, are only suggestions. We don't mind when you post it, as long as you post it! Even if it's two weeks late!

Help, I've never posted fic before!

Don't worry, we've got you! (And more importantly, we've got AO3 invites!) @aboutnothingness is more than happy to walk you through the process of setting up an account and is also offering her services as a beta.

I’m still too nervous to participate!

You can post anonymously to the collection. You can disable anon comments on your work. You can disable comments entirely and just collect the kudos. You can close anon asks on Tumblr temporarily. But most importantly, we are here for you and we want you here!

❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

“I love the fact that I make people happy, in any form. Even if it’s just half an hour of their lives, in any way that I can make them feel lucky or make them feel good, or bring a smile to a sour face, that to me is worthwhile.”

- Freddie Mercury

#Freddie Mercury Weekend 2021 #FMW2021 #freddiemercuryweekend2021 #fandom event #Queen fandom #Freddie Mercury #it's here!#REBLOG REBLOG REBLO-

209 notes · View notes

twstheadcanons · 3 years

Note

This is a lore question and a slightly specific one. Cater as a character and otherwise is super interesting to me but at the same time insanely confusing. While at first I thought he would end up having maybe slightly abusive family there's a possibility that's not the case. His sister's seem to enjoy dolling him up and his mother seems to go along with it and his father's a bit more absent. I think I would mainly like to know what his true self is truly reflecting and also if Trey seems to know about this 'true version'. Don't feel pressured to anwser this if you can't btw ❣️

Cater fans come get yall’s food.

S, iideally I’d go through events Cater’s prominent in (Beans Day, Halloween), but that would just make this whole post longer. So I’ll be using Cater’s card stories for now. What we know about Cater, on the surface level, is that he comes across as happy-go-lucky, energetic, social, trendy, superficial, flaky, and insensitive at times. But that’s Cater on a surface level.

So for Cater, his major issues from his background are:

his family frequently moving to accommodate his father’s occupation as a banker

his sisters dragging him into their own interests that he was expected to accommodate as well

Cater repeatedly states he disliked getting dragged around by his sisters and having cutesy stuff he wasn’t genuinely interested in shoved into his face. This would even happen on his birthday, where his sisters got him things they’re more likely to enjoy, which made Cater feel frustrated since he was supposed to be the focus on his own birthday. But despite that annoyance, Cater understands his sisters didn’t really mean any harm. From the sounds of it, they liked hanging out with Cater, and assumed that Cater enjoyed how they spent time together as well since Cater preferred to go with the flow, rather than rock the boat.

In his Bday SSR, Cater mentions that his sisters became more considerate of his own interests and asked him what he wanted. All three coming from a family where they move and lose close friends a lot, the sisters are probably close and want to stay close to their brother as well, since they’re the only consistent company in a similar age range. His sisters are each other’s best friends, Cater didn’t have that growing up. He also mentions his sisters and mother’s sweets-making kick, and how he eventually got over having sweets every day. But when he protested, it’d disappoint and sadden them/they’d have dejected looks on their faces, which Cater didn’t know how to handle, so he made himself go along with their whims to keep them happy.

This pours into his social media life, where he’s a peppy, cheery guy that posts upbeat content and responds with light, casual, carefree messages to people. His Lab SR literally has him state that he ‘should always be happy and excited, after all’. So, clearly, whatever dynamic the Diamond family has, while not what I’d call something as heavy as abuse, isn’t considerate of Cater’s feelings and views Cater’s ‘go with the flow’ ways as approval. If he ‘breaks character’ of the devil-may-care person he is on the surface, it raises questions, and Cater would rather just avoid all that and enjoy himself instead of getting involved in anything heavy.

Again, Cater doesn’t like to rock the boat. He also mentions in his Lab SR that this obsession with cutesy stuff became rather invasive, and he’d even be criticised or second-guessed if he didn’t go along with the idea. Cater ends up accommodating that interest to prevent any debate, even if he didn’t actually care for them. That said, with such an emphasis on aesthetics being the way he grew up, Cater has a good understanding and practical knowledge of decour and eye-catching designs, which makes him helpful and invaluable when the time calls for decour. This is something Cater knows he’s good at, and enjoys showing off since the focus is on himself and he’s acknowledged for his skills.

With their family moving all the time, Caters gained and lost friends a lot. Cater has an outgoing personality, at this point, it’s safe to assume he’s an extrovert, so making friends comes naturally to him. But when you’re moving a lot, maybe sometimes in the middle of a school term, . Cater needs engagement and social interaction, but at this point in his life, he’s tired of trying to keep up with old and new friends on deep levels, hence his interest and obsession with social media.

One thing to note about Cater: he likes cutting corners. a lot.

In his R card “Portrait of Rosalia”, it’s understood that Cater being nice to Rosalia by throwing her a party with some lively students around is a way for him to get on her good side, because Rosalia overhears the teachers’ discussions of tests and future lessons so that he wouldn’t have to study for an upcoming history test: while Cater’s idea of a party to lift Rosalia’s spirits is in good nature, he wants something out of it that benefits him. But while disappointed the plan didn’t work, he’s quick to brush it off, and Rosalia’s anger, by mentioning that she’s cuter when uptight anyway.

In his PE card “This betrayer!” Cater only have five laps left to do in PE. But he hates how sweaty he is and how tedious the overall task is. So he uses his UM to try and avoid doing all five laps himself. Riddle catches him red-handed, and Cater tries - albeit I’m sure he knows it’s a lost cause - to flatter Riddle at the last minute. Trey’s also involved, and despite leaving Cater in the dust, Trey also returns with Riddle, because Trey knows that Cater’s the type that tries to cut corners whenever possible, something against the rules in Heartslabyul. Honestly, as far as Trey goes, Trey’s someone used to the way Riddle holds himself back. Cater’s exterior personality wouldn’t be hard for Trey to recognise as Cater pushing himself or exaggerating points of his personality just to keep up an image. especially after being in the same dorm for three years.

In short, while he isn’t malicious about majority of the time, Cater will use others to get out situations and tasks he wants no part of. This is a huge thing reflected in his UM, as it allows Cater to be in more than one place, so that he personally doesn’t have to be involved. Growing up with two pushy older sisters, it makes he develops a UM that complements a need for escape when pure wit won’t work. And despite being someone with a superficial interest in trends, that experience accumulates in him understanding the basics about social media and how it affects others, himself included, since it became the only way he could stay in contact with acquaintances and ‘friends’ from previous years.

Cater has a good understanding of how people, in general, work, especially those in his agegroup, which makes him rather crafty when he wants to string others along and get out of a situation. This doesn’t make Cater a mean or conniving person, and in fact, he’s generally amicable and social. Cater lives by a pretty ‘live in the moment’ credo. He enjoys having fun and not getting overly serious about issues when he can help it. There are instances where he doesn’t care about the situation he’s in, or thinks it’s lame/boring, but he tries to make the most of it as something to post about on MagiCam later to engage in low-effort social interaction for a mental break.

Cater pretty much states this in his Halloween SSR:

“If I left there, they remained there. That’s why I’d rather have a casual and happy time with everyone instead of going steady. It’s like a circus troupe, you know, having fun hanging with people all over the world and then leaving. And that’s why MagiCam is the best. I suddenly got messages from acquaintances from the school I went to 3 years ago. Aren’t my casual and light relationships multiplying? It’s lovely! “

Social media helps him keep in contact with people on a low-effort level, so the risk of moving doesn’t damage his relationships online like it would physical friendships. As for family, Cater’s feelings towards his family are difficult, tricky ones he has problems with. He certainly doesn’t hate them, but their lifestyle, the moving and pushy personalities, don’t mesh well with Cater’s personality overall. When Lilia tries to relate to Cater’s experiences of fleeting relationships, Cater can’t help but dismiss Lilia’s empathy as surface-level, since, to CATER’S knowledge (it’s not like he knows Lilia’s old as shit), Lilia’s always lived in the VoT with his own family and friends, which hits a sore spot with Cater:

““Cater: ….Family…huh.

Flashback Lilia: I feel like I understand you. But it is just as Cater says, it might be the truth that you should not attach yourself too much to one person in particular.

Flashback ends Cater: (That was full of lies. For a guy who grew up in the same place and never had to deal with rebuilding relations over and over… He wouldn’t understand my worthless and meaningless feelings.)

/Notification

Cater: Hello, Trey. What’s up? Huh? Are we doing our rehearsal for our night show at the stamp rally now? And is Deuce from my committee lacking in hands, so Ace is helping him out? Darn, Ace is definitely going to use this to ask me for a favor later!

Cater: Argh! And is Riddle on the verge of a rampage? I’ll be back soon, Trey, please calm him! It was such a pain getting involved in the biggest crisis of this Halloween week! No, for real! I’m not lying. That’s why you don’t have to say such cold things to me, kay? URGH, TREY, YOU’RE SO CRUEL!!

Cater: Now that Diasomnia’s turmoil has settled, it’s time to change the mood. No matter how you slice it, we’ll still separate if we become 4th years… It would be different if I repeated a year though. Anyway, I should just enjoy the memories I’m making “now”! I’ll surprise everyone with this charming skeleton costume! I’ll show them my serious side!”

Cater calls his own feelings ‘worthless and meaningless’, which likely ties into how he got dragged into his mother and sisters’ own interests over his own, and sometimes even criticised if he didn’t go with their flow. He also expects the friendships he’s made in NRC (as we see with him talking to Trey about the rest of the Heartslabyul cast), to inevitably disappear after he and Trey are fourth years with their own internships and lives to live. Because to Cater, the future of his life and relationships appear disruptive and inconsistent, so instead of fretting about them, he wants to live in the moment and enjoy what he’s doing at all times, hence why he cuts corners to make things easier on himself. This is why he can come across as superficial and easy to get along with, because he doesn’t want to fret over the details.

unrelated but we’re team ‘former dorm leader cater’ here because him doing it because it sounds cool and fun fits perfectly with his personality

#cater diamond #twisted wonderland #Anonymous

90 notes · View notes

alphabet-blues · 3 years

Photo

Here it is, chapter one of my baby, my magnum opus. This fic is going to be so long so I hope you guys are buckled up and ready. Each chapter also is accompanied by a literature/media excerpt and five song mini-mix as a YouTube playlist. - Venom

Read on Ao3

Title: drowning lessons

Pairing: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland), and MCU

Chapter: One

Rating: Explicit

Content Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Angst, Depression, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Graphic Drug usage, Addiction, Graphic Usage of Opioids, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, brief mentions of forced prostitution, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, drug overdose, Graphic Depiction of a Drug Overdose, Getting Together, Fluff, Banter, The Euphoria Fic, Blowjobs, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Addict Harley, Aged-Up Harley Keener, Aged-Up Peter Parker, Drowning Lessons, Falling In Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Underage Drinking, Partying, Purchasing of Drugs, Harley's Nirvana Hoodie is a character

Summary: It all started with a house party and a bad idea, like most things in Harley’s life.

In which Harley takes pills, listens to Nirvana, and doesn't want to be alive anymore.

Falling for Peter is easier than breathing, and also the least of his problems.

(Also known as the Parkner Euphoria Fic)

Mini-Mix 1 for Chapter 1

The Pool Players. Seven at the Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We Left school. We

Lurk late. We Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We Die soon.

- Gwendolyn Brooks

It all started with a house party and a bad idea, like most things in Harley’s life.

He was 14, and it was his first party. Well, not his first party, but his first party with actual high schoolers that involved booze that wasn’t snuck out from a parent’s meticulous liquor cabinet. Harley though, didn’t have much of a taste for alcohol.

The smell of beer on people’s clothes was tainted by memories of his Father. He’d had his first beer when he was 10, given to him by his Uncle with strict orders not to tell his Mother. It was bitter, rancid, and burned as it went down and Harley couldn’t understand how people loved this stuff. Or how his Father had chosen this over their family.

The party was a little ways out from the main road and tucked behind a line of trees that led to a few rolling fields of corn. It was October, and there was a slight chill in the air. The corn had been combined at the end of summer, leaving a desecrated patch of land in its wake. By the time next summer rolled around, there would be stalks nearly as tall as Harley. He was fascinated by the cycle of it all.

Technically, there wasn’t supposed to be any freshman at the party, but he had weaseled an invite from his friend Joey’s older brother, Mike, as long as he followed his strict orders to “be cool.” Harley could do that.

When Harley made his way into the house he watched the different crowds of upperclassmen interact. Some were dancing to the loud thumping of the music playing from the speakers by the TV in the living room, while others were huddled into tight groups, either drinking, or passing a joint around. An ache settled inside Harley’s chest.

Harley committed to his role of being a wallflower and held back from all of the groups as he made his way through the house. He had sat on the couch for close to a half-hour when someone passed him a joint and told him to take a hit. Harley did, and was careful not to choke so he didn’t look green at his first-ever real party.

The joint in question got passed around their circle a few more times until someone put it out. At that point, Harley had taken several puffs and was starting to feel light-headed and fuzzy, but in a good way.

The ache in his chest morphed - it spread warmth over Harley’s ribs and clavicle, but it still burned.

Harley floated through the house afterwards, giggling at nothing, and took whatever was offered. He drank something bitter and sour that made him want to hurl before he was passed something sickly sweet but felt like acid as it washed down. When he finally stumbled out of the house he felt a happy buzz wash over him. He could barely feel the cold nip of the air, and goosebumps raised all up along his arms.

He found his bike where he had discarded it on the grass lawn when he arrived. It was hard to see in the dark, especially with his head swimming, but he managed to pull his bike onto the road. The wind of the night air blew through his shaggy overgrown hair as it fell in his eyes. He biked down the eerily quiet streets of his hometown as the persistent aching in his chest eventually subsided, for the first time since it had arrived. No one was around, and his ears were filled with static due to the lack of sound - a sharp contrast from the thudding bass of the party.

He fell off his bike twice before he got home, and winced as his elbow got scratched up from the gravel. But instead of being frightened, he was elated, he couldn't really feel it. He snuck back into his room through the window he kept unlocked for that exact purpose, and made sure to be as quiet as possible, even though the motor functions in his hand were failing him and it took him multiple tries to get his window up.

He changed his clothes, noting how they smelled, and buried them deep into the bottom of his hamper so his Mom wouldn’t get suspicious. When he finally collapsed onto his bed he felt sated. He was warm, and the rocking of his bed from his head spinning as he closed his eyes lulled him to sleep.

It was probably the best sleep he’d gotten in years.

That was the start, but it wasn’t the beginning.

The beginning was not quite a year later, at the start of summer break. He was invited to a pool party by Mike’s friends. As soon as the sun went down they all changed out of their bathing suits and into t-shirts, and shorts. They relocated to Maddy’s basement - the girl who had been throwing the party. Harley was expecting the alcohol, and the weed. He’d gotten used to it by now, and even knew how to roll one of the best joints in town. He kept a stash in a sealed bag buried deep inside his nightstand that he would pull out and smoke in the backyard by the shed whenever things got overwhelming. Or, for when that well-known emptiness crept into his veins, that instead of making him angry, just made him sad, and desolate.

He was used to the weed, but the pills were something new. He was halfway through a joint that he had matched with a girl he vaguely recognized. She had introduced herself as “Tasha” when one of Mike’s friends stumbled over and sat down next to him. Harley passed the joint over to Tasha. His head was swimming pleasantly, and he grinned over at the guy who he was pretty sure was named Toby.

“Look what Jessica’s sister brought,” Toby said excitedly as he held up a baggy with a bunch of tiny perfectly round blue pills. “She’s like the fucking tooth fairy, I swear to God,” He crowed as he handed a pill to Harley and one to Tasha. Tasha glanced over at Harley nervously, and Harley didn’t say anything until Toby left, probably to go distribute the pills to the other partygoers.

Harley looked down at the pill he had clutched in his palm. It had a ‘5’ etched big in the center, with a smaller ‘325’ carved under it. Harley recognized the pills from health class. It was percocet.

Tasha finished the joint and then stubbed it out on a spare plate that everyone had been using as a makeshift ashtray. “I’m gonna go see what Josh is up to,” She told Harley in a small voice before handing him the pill she had been given. “I’m good with just weed.”

Harley nodded dumbly as he watched her scamper off. He took in the scene of the party going on around him as he stared at the now two pills in his hand. It felt like an old cartoon where there was an angel and devil sitting on his shoulder arguing over what he should do. He stared at it for entirely too long before he said, “Fuck it,” and swallowed one down dry. He tucked the other one into his weed grinder for safekeeping, figuring that even if he hated how it made him feel he could probably sell it to someone at school for a couple of dollars.

The next twenty minutes passed slowly as he waited anxiously for it to kick in, to see how it would feel. He didn’t feel anything for the first while and was gonna accuse Jessica’s sister of being an idiot and buying counterfeit pills when it started washing over him in waves. He went out to the back deck where the pool was, and where it was relatively empty. He sat down on the edge as his eyes went half-massed, and the ribbons of euphoria made their way through his bloodstream.

For a blissful while he didn’t feel anything. Nothing at all. He laid out flat, head facing the water, and started swirling circles in it with his pointer finger. He watched for what felt like hours as his finger caused ripples in the pool.

It wasn’t until later, much later, when Joey was helping him into his house quietly, because he was too fucked up to stand, that he pulled the grinder out of his pocket. He opened it once Joey had gone home and looked at the little pill inside of it. Harley didn’t understand alcohol, but he understood this. He would do anything to feel nothing again.

It wasn’t an all-or-nothing type beat, at least in the beginning. It was more gradual. As the low simmer of Harley’s misery built so did his coping mechanisms. It wasn’t until right after he turned 16 that he was sneaking out to parties every single weekend, coming back high, drunk, or sometimes something worse.

He bought from Jessica’s sister for a while until she left town. Then, he bounced around various dealers getting wildly different qualities. He tried a little bit of everything, and never turned down a pill if it was offered. He passed out in so many different basements he lost track. He could tell that his Mom was catching on to his worsening attitude and sunken eyes. Hell, even he had noticed the weight he had lost and how he was able to count most of his ribs without sucking in anymore. None of that mattered. All that mattered was how he could get rid of the emptiness inside of him, even if it was just for a night, or however long the drugs in his system lasted.

He got a job bagging groceries at the mini-mart downtown. Most of the people that he worked with were college burnouts who sold and did drugs whenever they weren’t showing up for a shift. He bought baggies of pills in the parking lot whenever he got off work with the money he made from his minimum wage. He knew that he couldn’t keep up the delicate balance forever, and eventually there would be a tipping of the scales.

It was a month before his 17th birthday when he ran out of money.

He needed a fix so bad that his hands were shaking and he could barely see straight. He had nearly crashed his bike 10 times on his way over to Tyler’s apartment. He wasn’t the best of dudes, but his shit was always pure, and Harley knew he could deliver.

Once Harley climbed up the steps he walked along the railing until he got to the door that led to Tyler’s apartment. He rang the doorbell as he fidgeted with his hoodie and dug his fingers into his palm so hard he nearly drew blood. When Tyler opened the door he followed him inside, chewing on his lip.

Tyler went back to his room as Harley waited anxiously in the foyer. He didn’t have any money, and he didn’t know what he was going to do. All he knew was that he needed another pill. He needed everything to stop. He bit his thumb as he waited for Tyler to come back out. After a few tense moments, Tyler came back out with a baggy full of familiar pills. He sat them down on the coffee table and glanced at Harley expectantly.

“I can pay you back next Friday. That’s when I get paid,” Harley told him, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

Tyler sucked on his teeth and grabbed the pills back up, before Harley had a chance to reach for them. “You still owe me for last time.”

Harley’s stomach dropped. “Right. I know that. Just- ... I can pay you back next week.”

Tyler shook his head. “And what’s in it for me?”

Harley’s eyes widened as he took in the setting of what was going on. “W-what do you mean?”

Tyler shrugged. “How bad do you want ‘em, kid?”

Harley bristled, and brought the sleeves of his hoodie down to hide his hands. He wanted to hide from the situation completely, but knew he’d be right back here tomorrow if he didn’t leave with the pills that he needed. “What do you want?”

“I heard you gave Colson head at the bonfire party a few months ago,” Tyler said, as Harley’s face burned. “You any good?”

Harley counted to 10 in his head. He thought about a lot of things in the time it took for him to count. He thought about his Mom, his Dad, and his sister. He thought about his one English teacher from the previous year who always had an absurd amount of faith in him and told him that he was capable of great things if he just put his mind to it. He thought briefly about Tony and his billions of dollars while here he was broke as shit and questioning his morals. He thought about Colson, who he’d had a crush on for a couple of months, who let him blow him at a party and then told him afterwards that he wasn’t gay, and that they probably shouldn’t do it again. Lastly, he thought about how shaky his hands were and how all of this would be over as soon as he got his hand on the pills. There were five in the baggy. If he paced himself he could last until next Friday when he got paid and he would never have to do this again.

With that resolve in mind, he closed his eyes and dropped to his knees.

| | |

When he left Tyler’s apartment he couldn’t stop wiping at his mouth, and how it felt dirty and raw. He got halfway down the street before he let his bike fall to the ground and bent over to wretch into the grass on the side of the road. He didn’t have much in his system so it was mostly just bile, but anything, literally anything, was better than the lingering taste of Tyler’s cum in his mouth that only served to remind him what he had let him do.

Once he gathered his wits back up, he was able to make it to the 7-Eleven that was only a few blocks away from his house. He parked his bike in the bike rack outside half in a daze, feeling like he was no longer inside his body. He went into the bathroom with his hood up, and made sure nobody else was inside. He wiped down the edge of the sink with soap, and dried it meticulously with the thin paper towels from the machine. He took one of the pills out of the baggie and smashed it until it was basically powder. He spread it with his finger into a line on the edge of the sink and snorted all of it in one go.

As soon as he did he felt the immediate head rush and stinging pain in his nasal cavity that made his eyes burn and well up with tears. He grabbed onto the sink for dear life as he took several deep breaths. He looked up and finally made eye contact with himself in the mirror. His hair was a messy tangle, and greasy, on top of his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and his nose was red, as well as his mouth, which looked rubbed raw. In a certain light, it could have been enticing, but Harley knew that he just really looked wrung out.

He glared at his reflection in the mirror until someone else walked into the bathroom. Harley froze in place and waited till the guy took his position at one of the far down urinals. “Whatever,” he whispered to his reflection as he turned around and left the bathroom, wiping at his nose with the bottom of his hoodie sleeve. The moment he reached his bike he felt it start to kick in and he breathed out a sigh of relief as the telltale rush he had gotten used to spread from his head down his shoulders, all the way to his toes as his chest flooded with warmth.

He just had to make it until next Friday, and then everything was going to be okay.

| | |

The thing was, Harley was a pretty angry person. He wasn’t angry all the time, but the slightest thing could set him off. He had a temper like his Dad, and it was always hard to stop himself from doing something rash, or impulsive. His Mom liked to say that he thought with his fists before his head. His anger was more like a low simmer, on a backburner constantly until something set him off and he snapped. It had only gotten worse since he started the pills, but so had everything in his life. He knew he had a problem, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stop.

Harley had been getting into fights at school for almost as long as he could remember. There was a day in elementary school where he had to wait outside the principal's office with a split lip and torn-up knuckles. He could hear his Mom crying through the door, he could hear her saying how tough it had been since Harley’s Dad had left and it made him feel awful. But, it also kind of just made him want to punch stuff more.

Kids at school were mean, but all kids who are growing are mean, and seem to have endless bouts of nasty shit to say. They picked on Harley because he was weird, and nerdy, and his Dad had left. There wasn’t even a divorce like some of the other kids in his class. He didn’t have elusive tales of two Christmases, or weekends at his Dad’s - all he eventually got was Tony Stark showing up in his garage when he was 9, before he fucked off just like everybody else. Sure, he had decked out his garage, but that didn’t mean much. Tony was a fucking billionaire, it was probably the equivalent of him giving a homeless kid on the street a 5 dollar bill.

Harley got better at learning how to deal with his anger. He also got better at not getting punched, and throwing his own. He learned how to hide bloody knuckles, or bloody noses, and only got pulled into the office a handful of times. They made him go to the school counselor and she said it was a coping mechanism; that the violence was a way for him to act out and ask for attention. Harley thought she was mostly a quack who didn’t actually give a shit about the kids she was supposed to be helping. The fighting had been self-defense, but the pills? He could admit that those were probably the coping mechanism.

Harley thought about his school counselor as he locked the door to his room and threw the baggy of pills that he had worked so hard for into his nightstand, under a pile of books he was supposed to be reading for class and knew he never would. He wondered what she would think of him now, or what he had done. He laughed mirthlessly at the picture of her horrified face as he told her that the school system had failed him, just like his Dad, and just like everybody fucking else.

Despite everything, his grades were good. Harley was smart. He knew he was smart, and that was half of his problem. He stopped having to try in school after the second week of 6th grade. He always showed up, and always finished his work though, even if he was working on his projects high out of his fucking mind. He usually wrote his best papers that way.

Sometimes, not often, but sometimes, he thought about his Dad. He thought about what his Dad would say to him and his pills. Maybe an outsider would draw parallels to him and his Father, from one addict to another. He wasn’t anything like his Father, though. Yeah, Harley had a problem, but he was still here, still doing the shit he was supposed to be doing. He was still a functioning member of society as far as he was concerned and hadn’t ran away as soon as things had gotten tough. His Father was a coward and that’s all he’d ever be.

Sometimes though, sometimes, in the dead of night when he was shaking and sweating from either a comedown, or withdrawal, he would try to discern if his Dad would be sad, if he even gave a shit at all. He wondered if he would be disappointed.

Whenever those thoughts took hold he would just text one of his friends to see if a party was going on, and there usually was. He’d smoke a joint, or take a pill that was offered and suddenly he’d forget all about the thoughts that had previously been consuming him.

But the thing about all of his anger is that he would gladly take it over the sadness. There was a hole inside of him. He wasn’t quite sure when it formed, but it was there. It threatened to consume him whole on nights he was alone and could only stare at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom. The only time when he didn’t feel empty was when he had some chemical pumping through his veins. So that became his thing.

He couldn’t ignore though, how it was hurting everyone he loved. Abbie and his Mom never said anything, but sometimes it was like they knew. They would give him a look with their sad eyes like they wanted to help him, like they somehow had the capability to heal him. When he came home on certain nights, pupils blown and speech slurred, his Mom would look at him like he was his Father.

Maybe he was slowly becoming his Father.

Either way, it hurt, and he couldn’t stop. The only thing that didn’t hurt anymore was the dizzying rush he got whenever he snorted the pills that he had come to love so much.

There was one night that Harley could remember. He had slammed his bike on the front porch a little hard, and had made a little too much noise coming in through the window of his bedroom. He was high as shit and the world was thick, but buzzing around him. He changed out of his jeans into an undershirt, his hands fumbling and not working right, like they were no longer connected to his brain. When he finally finished his task he stumbled out into the hallway to go to the bathroom before he could pass out for school in the morning.

As soon as he got to the door of the bathroom he could hear his Mom talking in the living room, and he froze. Her voice was muffled, but he could still make out what she was saying. It sounded like she was on the phone with someone, which wouldn’t be an unusual occurrence for her, especially at this time of the night. It always made Harley smile whenever he would come home and she would be gabbing excitedly with one of her girlfriends, or spilling town gossip. This time, however, Harley could tell she wasn’t chatting with her friends.

“He’s just been so withdrawn. I know he sneaks out of the house almost every night and I don’t know if I should let him have his freedom or be concerned.” Harley heard her say, her voice sapped, and weary. “He’s so bright. You know that. I’m worried that’s going to be what gets him.” She paused for a while, so someone else on the phone must have said something. Harley took that time to let his head fall against the door of the bathroom.

Harley had a feeling the conversation was about him and it made him sick. His fuzzy brain was taking in all the words she was saying and knew that he didn’t want her to feel that way. He didn’t want her to worry. But he also couldn’t stop. His brain was whirring all the time and the only thing that ever gave him peace; a fucking reprieve, stopped the voice in his head - the one that sounded like his Father, the one that told him he was a waste of space, that he was nothing - were the pills that he took, or snorted, whichever was easier, or quicker, really. At least when he was high he was a good nothing.

“No, I know. And he’s so good sometimes. He’ll be happy and chatty, and he’s always been so good with Abbie...it could just be a teenager thing. Sometimes I’m just at a loss. I know he needs something, but I don’t know what that is.”

The world to stop turning, Harley thought, with a sudden flash of vengeance. If there was one thing he could write on his Christmas list it would be for the world to stop turning, and for him to stop breathing. But that would definitely cause his Mom more concern and he didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to listen to the conversation anymore, so he made sure to open the bathroom door obviously, and took a few stomping steps inside, hitting his hand on the counter in the process, that way she would be alerted to his presence in the hallway.

He couldn’t make out her voice after that.

Harley stared at his face in the mirror. He took in his red eyes, pupils swallowing his irises, skin pale and sickly. At one point he might have been something to look at, with sweeping blonde hair, and a crooked grin that his Mom used to always pinch and say was her favorite.

He didn’t look like that anymore.

He didn’t even look like himself anymore. His outside finally matched his inside - a hollow shell of someone pretending to be a person.

When he got out of the bathroom his Mom was no longer on the phone, and he couldn’t pretend to be anything other than absolutely exhausted, so he shuffled into his room and fell back onto his bed. He played the words she had said on the phone call over and over again in his head until he fell asleep.

| | |

Harley was smart, brilliant, actually, that was the thing. School was a breeze, but he knew that even though he kept his grades up, every time he snuck back in through his bedroom window his Mom was disappointed in him. He knew that she had no idea what he was doing, but she also wasn’t stupid, and somehow knew he was close to doing something that would throw his life away.

If only she knew that this was the only way he could keep on living. If only she knew he probably would have slit his wrists in the bathroom if those tiny little blue pills hadn’t kept him company, and drove away all the malicious clawing thoughts that flickered through his brain constantly.

Harley had an affinity for building things. He also had an affinity for hacking, which would have been worrisome if he wasn’t good enough to hardly ever get caught. After he burned his bridges with Tyler he started exploring his other options. Hacking into the local hospital’s database was so easy it was almost laughable.

He quickly learned it was going to be a dead-end because they kept all their opioids in a Pill-O-Matix which was an automatic drug dispenser that used doctors’ credentials to unlock it. Even if Harley could somehow bypass it he would have to disable the security cams, and it wasn’t something he could do on a regular basis. It wasn’t worth it.

After that, he did some digging into his local pharmacy, but that was mostly a dead end as well. Their computer systems were out of date, but most of their pill tracking was manual, as it was a tiny small-town pharmacy. If any of their opioids went missing they would surely be noticed.

So Harley started bouncing around dealers again. He knew it was dangerous. But the hole inside of him was just as, if not more dangerous, so he knew what he had to do. He got shitty pills from freshmen with older siblings that dealt; who didn’t know the worth of what they were selling. On one occasion he got a set of pills of oxy that were cut with speed that made his heart race and he felt like he was having a low-grade heart attack for hours.

He didn’t want to be this way - a junkie. But he found something that worked when nothing else had. He could feel himself getting worse and worse and knew rock bottom was just around the corner. But he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know if it was a sick desire to actually hit rock bottom and to see what that felt like, or if his own self-control had finally waned to a point of no return.

It all came to a head a week before his high school graduation.

Graduation parties were popping up all over the place, and Harley wasn’t about to miss any of them. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to see his friends (friends that he could barely even call friends anymore because he didn’t really talk to anyone who wasn’t going to eventually sell him drugs).

It wasn’t even that he wanted to have a nostalgic cry fest with all the people who had tortured him his entire adolescence. He just wanted to get as smashed as possible so he could forget everything. Then he wouldn’t have to think about college, which he couldn’t afford, or all of the stress that came with being on the cusp of adulthood.

He could tell that something was off as soon as he took the first pill. He got high quicker than usual, and he also felt higher than what was normal. He relished the buzz, every second of it, and used his impairment as an excuse as to why he took another one, and another one once it was offered. He was never one to turn down free drugs. By the time the third one kicked in he could barely walk outside. He must have fallen on the grass lawn because one minute he was looking at the driveway that led to the house, and the next minute he was blinking up at the night sky.

He didn’t even realize that he was puking until someone was rolling him over with a bruising grip on his arms and back. The bile that had been clogging his throat rose and fell out of his mouth as he heaved and heaved. He puked into the grass for what felt like ages until he tried to focus his eyes and could only make out a vague blob of a person standing over him.

“Fuck, Harley,” he could hear the voice saying, but it was distant. It sounded like they were crying, but he couldn’t figure out why they would be crying. Harley opened his mouth to speak but when he did he only choked on bile once again until he was forced to spit it out in the grass.

A loud ringing was in his ears and all the talking he could hear was muffled and unintelligible. He started shivering violently and couldn’t stop. The hand that was holding him reached for something in the pocket of his jeans but Harley could barely feel it. He came back to himself enough to glance over with glassy eyes and recognized the person as Joey. Fuck. He shouldn’t be seeing him like this.

Joey had a phone pressed to his ear, and Harley tried to piece all the details together to figure out what was going on but it was hard to think. All he could feel was the sudden pounding in his head and how his whole body ached in a way that made him feel like he had just been run over by a semi.

It could’ve been hours later, or only a few minutes, time was passing weird for Harley. But suddenly he was seeing his Mom. She was pale as a ghost as her face floated in front of him, blocking his view of the night sky. “Mom?” Harley said, not quite believing what was in front of him. Just saying those words scratched against his raw throat and suddenly Harley was so, so tired. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up.

“Harley, baby.” His Mom said, her cool hands pressed against his face. He was burning up. When did that happen? “What did you take? We need to know what you took.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Harley mumbled out, his words barely coming out as sounds or words. His Mom must have understood because her face turned thunderous.

“What did you take!” She yelled, her voice turning shrill as she screamed. Harley winced and his eyes fell shut until someone was shaking him, causing him to blearily open his eyes again. His Mom and Joey were like little pale-faced moons over his head as he could hardly make out the details of their faces, or why they were looking at him like that, or why they were so concerned. Couldn’t Harley just go to sleep?

“...hospital,” He heard his Mom say distantly. Then jerkily he was being pulled up by two pairs of hands until he was upright. The movement jostled him and his head fell back painfully like a rag doll. The sudden motion caused him to start puking again, and he bent over and heaved on an empty stomach which only made his throat feel like it had been hacked at with razor blades. Every inch of his body hurt.

He didn’t realize he had been put into a car until he was laying in the backseat while Joey held his head, probably to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit again. This was one of his worst nightmares. He could hardly think but suddenly he was stuck in a spiral of guilt so strong that it choked him even further. He could taste the bile he had been throwing up all over his mouth and tongue, and could hear his Mom crying from the front seat.

He was so sorry.

Nobody should be seeing him like this. All he wanted was to go home and pretend like none of this was even happening.

“I’m sorry,” Harley said, even though it was hard for him to talk. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to his Mom, Joey, or possibly both. “I’m sorry,” he kept saying in between the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

That was the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep.

| | |

When Harley woke up he was in a brightly lit hospital, and was lying in a bed. He had various wires hooked to his arms and he felt like death warmed over. Once he was able to blink through the blinding lights and focus on the room he noticed Abbie and Mom, both sound asleep in their own respective guest chairs. A lump formed in his throat as it settled in his bones what had happened.

| | |

After his Mom woke up they fought for what felt like hours. Eventually, it led to her crying as she said she didn’t know what to do. The pills Harley had taken at the party had been laced with fentanyl, and they had caused him to OD. The doctors had told her that he showed signs of having a long-term opioid addiction and would have to go through detox before he would be released. Harley had denied it vehemently until his Mom had told him to cut the bullshit.

In the time that it had taken him to recover he had missed graduation, and hadn’t been able to walk across the stage like the rest of his classmates. Harley pretended that it didn’t sting.

It was clear that his Mother didn’t know what to do with him, and Harley didn’t know what hurt worse, the fact that she looked at him differently now, or the fact that he had hurt her so deeply. It wasn’t until he went through the detox with gritted teeth and false promises that he would stay clean that he knew nobody really believed, that he was able to go home.

When Harley got to his room, he stopped short in the doorway and stared. All of his stuff had been packed up into bags that were sitting on his bed. He turned to look at his Mom, who was only a few feet behind him, with betrayal and fear. Was she kicking him out?

Instead of answering him right away, her eyes trained on a picture that was hung up in the hallway, just a little ways down from the entryway to Harley’s bedroom. It was a baby picture of him. His blonde hair was platinum then, but still tangled at the top of his head like a bird's nest, and he had a wide smile on his face that was completely toothless and all gums. He could see the tears welling in his Mom’s eyes as she turned back to face him.

“When you first mentioned that you wanted to take a gap year I got in touch with Tony. He gave me his number years ago and said to call if we ever needed him. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if the number was still going to work. I thought it might do you good to go and see him.” Her voice trembled then, “Lord knows he has more resources than I do.” A tear trickled down her cheek, but she continued. “I know you’re not happy here, baby. You haven’t been happy for a while, and I don’t...I don’t know what to do.”

Harley tried to let her words sink in, but they weren’t making any sense. “Since when does Tony give a shit about me?”

“Oh sweetie,” His Mom said, eyes sad. “He’s always been keeping tabs on you. He wants what’s best for you.” She seemed to gather herself together then, and her voice was less wobbly when she said, “I think a change of scenery will do you good. You have a flight to New York tomorrow morning, so you should probably get some rest.”

Harley balled his hands into fists at his sides and glared at the bags that had been packed for him. He was a problem who was being shipped off to New York because his Mom no longer knew how to handle him. He wasn’t sure what Tony fucking Stark was going to be able to do for him. The fact that he had been keeping up with Harley and how he was doing hit him as a shock because he genuinely thought that the man had forgotten about him, or at least, didn’t care for him anymore. He didn’t know how to handle the information that not only did Tony in fact care about him, but cared about him enough to open his home to him and want to help him.

“And what if I don’t want to go to New York?” Harley tested, because he always had to push.

His Mom only pursed her lips sadly. “It’s not negotiable.” She closed his door then, he guessed to give him a semblance of privacy. Not like it mattered, he was sure his room had been cleaned of all his stashes, and all his shit was packed up anyway.

Harley punched his pillow repeatedly, and screamed into it a few times before he ended up curled up in his bed and staring unblinkingly at the wall. If he was miserable in Tennessee he doubted New York was going to be much better.

Thanks for reading! This fic means so much to me and I can’t wait to hear the response to it, and post more :)

#Parkner #Drowning Lessons #Fic #Chapter One #Parkner Euphoria Fic #Graphic Drug Usage #Harley Keener #Peter Parker #Keenker #Parley #Harley/Peter #Harley Keener/Peter Parker

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thatsgay-writes · 3 years

Text

Day 12

The days after finding water we're pretty chill, minus finding out that Jeanette's body was gone. There was still some obvious tension between you and Toni and Toni and Martha and Shelby. You hadn't really interacted with either Toni or Shelby in the past few days either, opting to hang around Fatin. You hadn't talked to Toni because you didn't know what to say after the argument the two of you had and you had revealed your feelings for her in front of everyone. Shelby on the other head, had seemed to be the one ignoring you... Well maybe not ignoring she was just very short with you which was totally against her personality. You all had also made a schedule, seeing as you were going to be here for a while. Everyone got one chore a day and every once and a while a day off. Today happened to be your day off and you were glad, your chest pains had been happening more often and that concerned you.

It also concerned you that you didn't know when you would be rescued. The hospital, who was against the retreat but couldn't exactly do anything about it, had given you medication to help with your problem. It was enough pills for three weeks, just in case, but they had been lost like the rest of your stuff. You had checked the pilot bag that held all the medical stuff you guys had but it didn't have what you were looking for either. You've managed to hide coughing up blood by coughing into the elbow of you red shirt or spitting it out while in the woods. You had also been losing your appetite, which has been harder to hide. You'd force down some food and pretend like it was a lot so the other wouldn't worry. But today, luckily, you were starving and prepared to fully eat whatever Rachel brought for food.

---

"Let's feast!" You hear a Rachel suddenly yell as she stand on top of a little hill, carrying what looks to be a big amount of food. You stood up and attached your leg before joining everyone around the fire. You watch, mouth watering, as Dot cooks all the mussels over the fire. When they're done cooking, the mussels are laid out in a big pile in the middle. Everyone stared at the pile wondering who will go first, since they all understood how little food they had been finding the past couple days. "Eat as much as you want guys, there was enough of them to fill 3 more bags. I just ran out of room." At Rachel's words you all dive in and eat the mussels, except for Shelby. "Why aren't you eating any?" Leah asks as she looks suspiciously at Shelby. Not this again. You think as you eat your tenth mussel, what could you say you were hungry.

"I'm actually allergic to shellfish. Ate one at a birthday party and my throat swelled up like a balloon." Shelby responded as she watched everyone else eat. "That's rough." You say as you grab 3 more mussels. "Damn y/n. Is it good?" Fatin asks jokingly as she grabs another mussels for herself. You roll your eyes and let out a chuckle as you flip her off before grabbing more food. "You know what this looks like..." Toni says, grabbing everyone's attention with a smirk. You mentally facepalm because you know exactly where this is going. "A pussy!" Nora yells out causing everyone to laugh, the girl had definitely come out of her shell more the past few days. Toni nods her head before licking the mussels shell provocatively. "I bet y/n knows what that feels like!" Dot yells out causing everyone to make an "ooo" sound like kids when their peer got in trouble. You and Toni's face both heated up at Dots words and you made sure to give her a hardy punch in the shoulder.

"Can you all stop!?" Shelby suddenly yells out causing everyone to freeze and look at her questioningly. "Shelby, chill out we are just having some fun." Dot says, not really understanding what all the fuss was about. "I am chill, I just don't find that very amusing." Shelby responded, her voice getting a little harsher when she says the word that. "What do you mean by that?" Toni asks as she send you a quick look and you almost immediately understood where this was going. The look was one you or Toni would give the other when known homophobes where in the area or if the two knew you were being judge for doing pda. Was this why Shelley had been short with you the past few days? You did not like where this was going and neither did Toni. "Just... pornographic gestures. I'm from a very Christian home and no one ever does things like that."

You wanted to believe Shelby, you really did, but it explained why you always felt this weird vibe from her. "Don't lie Shelby, I always knew I felt some sort of vibe from you, it's clear now what it was. Toni and I have felt that vibe enough times to know what you really mean." You say, glaring at Shelby. "What... What are you guys trying to say?" Martha asks getting worried now. She knew what you meant when you said vibe, you and Toni had both told her about it. "She's a fucking homophobe." Toni spits out glaring at Shelby. You nod you head in agreement, putting back the mussels you had picked up before all this started. Martha's eyes go wide and she sends a Shelby a pleasing look, hoping she'll deny what Toni had just said.

"Look..." Shelby says as she lets out a big sigh. "I have no hate in my heart for y'all. It was just that I was taught that that way of life is a sin." Toni immediately jumps up and point her finger angrily at Shelby, "Why you little..." Toni was too mad to even finish her sentence. Martha had dropped her head in disappointment and let Fatin wrap and arm around her in comfort. The rest of the girls were just watching as everything unfolded. "I feel sorry—" Shelby starts to say, digging her into an even deep hole. "Fuck you." Toni interrupts her before storming off, you nod your head repeatedly in agreement, not looking at anyone as you finish putting your leg on and following after Toni.

---

"Toni. Toni. Toni!" You yell as you follow the girl. "Goddamn leg... Goddamn sand..." You mumble as you follow Toni down the beach. Luckily, she does finally stop after she deemed that she was far away enough to breathe. Toni kicks the sand angrily, as she stares out into the water. "I can't fucking believe this, no I can I just hoped..." Toni trails off as she wraps her arm around herself. You walk up to her and wrap your arms around her in a comforting hug, "I know, I know..." "We just get so much shit at home..." Toni trails off as she lets herself relax into your hug. "I know." You say again because that's all you can say. You relax for a few minutes before you get hit with a sudden nausea.

"Oh fuck." You mumble out as you unwrap from around Toni and throw up near the two of you. "Y/n?" Toni reacts in shock as she watches you kneel over as you try and spit out the taste of vomit and blood. Toni ends up turning around to throw up as well. "I didn't know you were a sympathetic puker..." You try and joke as you take deep breathes and slowly lay in the sand, feelin exhausted from throwing up. Toni wiped her mouth before turning back around, "C'mon, we can't stay here the heat wont help at all." Toni says as she pulls you to your feet, trying to ignore how she slowly started feeling worse. Toni has to practically drag your body back towards camp. "Help!" She yelled out as soon as she saw people and Fatin came running over. She took your other arm and most of the weight so Toni could relax some.

Luckily, the other girls seemed to be doing better than you and Toni. Both you and Toni were splayed out on the ground with Martha sitting near by as the other girls moved around the camp doing whatever. "Come on, lay on your side y/n." Martha mumbles worriedly as she listens to your labored breathing. Toni was at least a little more responsive and had tried to swallow water, while you didn't even react to someone moving your body. "Fuck, she's getting worse..." Dot said as she walked up to check on the three of you. "Where the hell is Leah with that medicine!?" Fatin almost yelled as she looked between you and Toni. Right as she said that, Leah broke through the tree line and ran towards Dot. "Why are they all dirty?" Dot yells out as she roots through the bag. "Only 2? I thought we had 3, I know we had 3!" Dot pulls out two tablets of halophen. "It's obvious who needs them the most." Shelby stated as she sat a little ways away from the group unfold. Dot bites her lip and looks at Martha, "Martha, you good?" "Yeah, I'll take a Pepto."

Dot nods her head and turns towards Fatin and hands her one of the tablets, "Figure out a way for her to take it." Fatin nods her head as she looks down at you. "Toni, I'm going to need you to take this." Shelby said as she took the other halophen tab from Dot. "I'm not taking shit from you." Toni says as angrily as she can. "It'll save your life Toni. Take the damn pill." "Should Shelby really be the one doing this." Rachel questions. "Am I not allowed to help her!?" Shelby says exasperatedly. She climbed on top of Toni and held her nose closed until she opened her mouth. As soon as she did, she stuff the pill in her mouth and covered it, forcing her to swallow. Shelby got off of Toni and turned her attention to you, ignoring how the other girls were looking at her.

"Have you gotten her to take it yet?" Fatin shakes her head no, "She's barely reacting to anything. I'm surprised she's still conscious." The girls sat silent for moment contemplating what to do. They start to panic when you cough up more blood. "Here, give it to me." Dot says as she snatches the tab and a nearby rock. She starts to crush the tab up as much as possible. "Just pour some in front of her nose and breath deep." The other girls don't really question Dot's idea and just follow what she says. "C'mon y/n, just one big breath and then you'll start to feel better."

---

You were leaning heavily against Toni as you and all the girls sat around the fire. You were still exhausted from today's earlier event. Luckily, they associated you coughing up blood to throwing up to much and you didn't have the heart to tell them otherwise. No one knew about what was wrong with you except for the people at the hospital and yourself. You were finally clear to sleep by Dot because she wanted to make sure the meds had actually worked and that you wouldn't fall asleep just to never wake up again. You were almost asleep when Toni suddenly stands up yelling Martha's name and running over to her. You shake yourself awake and shakily stand up to see what was happening. Your heart stopped when you noticed that Martha had fallen and made no attempts at getting back up.

"Toni you were dying!" "Who cares? I don't matter! fuck, I don't matter. I don't fucking matter."

#the wilds x reader #x reader #female reader #shoni x reader #toni x reader #toni shalifoe x reader #shelby x reader #shelby goodkind x reader #toni x shelby #shoni #toni shalifoe x shelby goodkind

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chuckbass-love · 3 years

Note

hi! i wanted to request a smutty fic w prompt 100 with ransom and reader. maybe they were at a party and someone was hitting on reader and touching her and ransom got mad. 🤗

Hi love! Again, to everyone (including you) that has sent in a request, i’m sorry it’s taken so long. I feel bad for making people wait but i never wanna upload work that’s anything short of great in my eyes. I always want to be at my best. This didn’t quite go the way i wanted it to but i really hope it’s still good. Everyone reading, please feel free to leave feedback. It helps and is very appropriated.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Prompt #100: “Call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else touch you”

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, swearing, smut, sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, slight ownership kink (if you squint) and daddy kink. 18+

Word Count: 3,563

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @kylosrehn go check them out💜

Over My Dead Body

When making plans for the weekend with Ransom, going to a party full of stuck up rich people wasn’t exactly on your agenda. But, seeing it’s part of his lifestyle, you made an exception and besides it was yet another party hosted by his grandfather Harlan.

You never used to attend these parties since Ransom never invited you. He preferred to keep your interactions strictly bedroom related, nothing more, nothing less. It was beginning to confuse the hell out of you because sometimes on a rare occasion, he’d let you meet his friends and family.

But as previously stated, it’s rare.

When the two of you first met, sparks flew instantly. Your friend had introduced you, she was on a date with her boyfriend, her boyfriend brought him along just like she brought you along.

Their way of setting you two up. And it worked.

A solid 2 hours after meeting the man, he was balls deep inside of you making you forget your own name and turning you into a moaning mess underneath him. Since then you’ve been hooked. Whenever either of you are horny, you fuck.

But like any other fuck buddy relationships, there’s a catch. You two have a clear love for each other, one that neither of you will ever be brave enough to admit. Mostly because Ransom is a huge commitment phobe. The thought of only being with one girl for the rest of his life scares him and you just don’t admit your feelings because the thought of being rejected weighs heavier than the optimism of it working out in your favour.

Although he’s scared of settling down, Ransom sure did seem keen to bring you along with him to this party tonight which now you come to think of it, he’s been like that the last few times he’s taken you out.

Maybe he’s changing his mind.

“Red wine?” you hear, turning your head to see the man himself holding a wine glass for you and a tumbler glass for himself, no doubt filled with whiskey on the rocks. He does love his whiskey after all.

“Thank you, so tell me again. Why am i here?” you ask before taking a rather large sip of your wine, you certainly need liquid courage if you’re going to talk to these people.

“Who else would i have brought?” he responds, voice monotone, almost as if he’s bored and very uninterested. So all this time you thought there was a possibility of him changing his mind when in reality, he’s just been bringing you along to all of these lavish parties to keep up appearances.

No doubt to keep that controlling mother off of his back.

You shrug, continuing to look around as Ransom greets some of his grandfathers guests. One of them looks at you before looking at Ransom who eventually introduces you two, attempting to strike up some small talk until he’s being dragged away to talk to a group of men who no doubt are a lot older than him. Leaving you stood all alone.

That’s when you spot a guy across the room. He looks around Ransoms age. Tall, expensive suit, blonde hair and blue eyes. Plus he seems friendly. He raises his hand to wave and you reluctantly strut over, greeting him with a shy smile which he reciprocates.

“So, what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing stood all alone?” his compliment has you flustered and unsure how to respond but still, you find the words “thank you and i’m not alone, i came here with Ra-”

“Ransom Drysdale, yeah i saw you with him, where did he disappear to?”

“I have no idea, off talking to random strangers” you chuckle nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed about his absence. Little do you know, Ransom can see you with this mystery man, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw at the sight of you laughing.

Surely he can’t be that funny, he thinks to himself. But he is. He’s hilarious.

“So what do you think drew her to him then?” you giggle, gesturing to the couple next to you, a woman who’s dressed up to the nines with her husband who looks a lot older than her “oh obviously his looks, what makes you question her intentions?” he smirks and you shove him playfully.

“Oh of course. What was i thinking? Silly me” you wink, downing the rest of your drink in seconds before he takes another flute of champagne off of the waitresses tray for you.

“If i didn’t know any better i’d say you’re trying to get me drunk sir” you say using your best posh voice. Unbeknownst to you though, Ransom can hear your whole conversation, every single thing you’re saying to this man.

But can he really be mad? You’re only talking to, right? Besides he’s not exactly your boyfriend so you’re free to talk to whoever you want. Not that you want anyone else.

What he won’t admit now though is how jealous he is right now, he’s had just about enough of another man making you laugh the way that he’s supposed to make you laugh and now the only way this man is taking you home is over his dead body. But for now, he’s gonna make use of his best poker face, side eyeing the two of you on the sly as anger starts to build.

You start to look around the room yourself, trying to find Ransom and as you do, you spot him heading over to the drinks table so you decide to take that as your opportunity to excuse yourself, joining your date.

“Hey you” you bump him, a cheesy grin plastered across your face, one that fades as quickly as it appeared thanks to Ransoms straight and unimpressed expression.

You stand in front of him, blocking his access to the drinks “is everything okay?” but instead of an answer, you get silence. No response whatsoever. Why is he ignoring you?

“Ransom?”

“What?” he mutters, evidently agitated “what’s wrong?”

He chuckles in response, shoving past you to get his drink and lifting the tumbler to his plump pink lips, practically gulping it down without even so much as a flinch “oh don’t worry, everything is fine. Hey why don’t you go back to your little conversation with Mr Perfect will you” and just like that, he’s storming away from you and up the stairs to the second floor, instantly regretting sending you back to that man.

What could have gotten him so wound up?

If seeing you with that guy is the problem then maybe he shouldn’t have left you.

And without a second more to overthink and fester over his random outburst, you return to the other gentleman. One who knows how to treat you with respect as opposed to shutting you out.

“Hello again” he beams “i was about to say your name but then i remembered we never exchanged those”

“I’m Y/N”

“Jack”

“Nice to meet you Jack”

“Likewise”

The two of you shake hands as another conversation sparks up, pushing all Ransom related thoughts to the back of your already full brain.

Whilst Ransom is sat in the bathroom. Flustered, angry and ready to blow his lid at something so small. A situation that means nothing. That man means nothing to you, surely. You’re just being friendly, after all he did leave you to go and socialise. What did he expect you to do? Stand in the corner away from everyone?

You don’t want this guy though. Jack is just a friend you’ve made here. You want Ransom and he wants you too but his pride is in the way.

God what is wrong with him?

Evidently a lot.

One minute he’s all over you, taking you to parties and the next he’s giving you the silent treatment and acting like you’ve done something wrong.

And the only reason for his odd behaviour is because of the plan he made for tonight. Anyone who knows Ransom knows very well about his thoughts on relationships but with you, things are different and they always have been. You force him out of his comfort zone, you challenge him and you make him better. He was so nervous for tonight that the second the two of you arrived at the party he was drinking and acting strange.

As much as the thought of settling down scares him, he knows that it’s much better to tell you than watch you leave and find someone new. Seeing you with that guy only confirmed that.

After spending who knows how long in the bathroom trying to talk himself out of kicking up a fuss, he heads back down to the party, maybe he should go and spend more time with you but as he walks down the stairs, he instantly spots you and that same guy again. His hand is on your arm and you’re way too close for his liking. Close enough to make his skin crawl and his jaw clench even tighter.

He storms over, hearing his voice as he does so.

“So i know you came here with Ransom but i was wondering if i could maybe get your number?” he asks, scratching the back of his head as he anxiously awaits your reply.

Jacks nerves are abundantly clear until Ransom cuts you off, stopping you from opening your mouth to respond. He tugs on your arm, pulling you back “the answers no, prick” he snaps, dragging you through the crowd and out into the cold night air, barely giving you a chance to say goodbye to anyone and causing goosebumps to form all over your bare arms and legs.

“Ransom what the fuck?” you yell, trying your best to yank your arm from his tight grip “just get in the fucking car” he demands, opening the door for you. How chivalrous of him. His raised voice made you jump a little, cowering slightly and leaving you with no choice but to do as you’re told.

The second he gets in too, he’s shoving the key in the ignition and speeding off away from the party. Jack and all of the crowd long forgotten not just out of sight but out of mind too. Now all you can think about is Ransom and what’s got him so angry all of a sudden as he was pretty happy on the journey here.

You daren’t speak though, god forbid. Your words will only wind him up further.

Knuckles start to turn white as he grips the steering wheel like never before, his fingers tapping frantically which is an obvious indication of his need to get home as soon as physically possible.

You honestly can’t remember if you’ve ever seen him this angry in the whole time you’ve known him and that’s quite literally the scariest thing about this.

Eventually you reach his house, or should you say bachelor pad and he barely waits a second for you to exit the car before he’s storming off into the house without you.

Once you get inside he’s nowhere to be seen until you hear a loud slam of a door coming from upstairs. You head up and into the master bedroom instantly to find him undressing and discarding his clothes across the room.

“Ransom” you approach him with caution, worry filling your soft and caring voice but the moment you’re a few inches away and about to touch him, he shoots around, scaring you.

“Would you have given him your number?” he questions, his blue eyes looking deep into yours almost like he’s looking into your soul.

“Who? Jack? No, of course not. Why’re you even asking me that?” you protest, hoping he’ll believe you but now you come to think of it, you probably looked way too close for comfort.

“Lies”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Because it sure seemed like the two of you were getting awfully cosy tonight, laughing, drinking, touching each other” he explains, closing the space between you and making you gulp.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t of treated me like i was invisible all night then i wouldn’t have needed to make friends with him. You forget that you barely said a word the whole time” now you’re the one that’s angry as you step back after your outburst, watching him carefully. His next actions shock you though as he just laughs, turning away and speed walking across the bedroom to the en suite. But before you can even follow him, he slams the door, making you flinch and then as you thought he would, he locked it.

Why can’t he ever be mature enough to talk about things. All he ever does is avoid confrontation. You don’t really like it either but at least you’re trying to sort whatever issue has him all in his feelings and angry.

Rather than sitting and waiting for him to leave the bathroom, you decide to go and get ready for bed in the other one, showering before getting dressed into whatever you can find. Which just so happen to be a shirt of his.

He dries off, wrapping a towel around his waist before unlocking the door and walking out to find you sat on the bed.

“The answer is no and that’s the truth”

“Oh yeah? Then why was his hands all over you like you were there with him tonight?”

“That was nothing, we were just laughing. What about you though huh? Snapping at me all night, leaving me and then deciding at the very last second that you want to spend time with me. Felt a lot like just another one of your games” it doesn’t look like he believes you and now you’re over trying to prove yourself.

“I left to talk to people and i was acting funny because going to those parties never end well, i wasn’t playing games with you” he stalks towards you, closing the gap.

Okay, now that makes sense. It explains all about how his behaviour changed when the two of you entered the actual party.

“You know, seeing you with that guy wasn’t easy. I got angry. All this time i thought you knew that you belonged to me, clearly i was wrong” his fingers graze your arm before settling underneath your chin and tilting it up, forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

“Maybe you need a reminder” he’s so close to you now, his hands are all over your waist, moving down agonisingly slow towards your ass. He smacks the backs of both thighs as a signal for you to jump and you do. How can you resist?

His lips attack yours in a brief and passionate kiss before he throws you down to the bed “i’m gonna make you forget all about him” he then removes the towel.

You furrow your brows watching as he lifts your (his) shirt up, revealing your laced panties. His favourite on you. He spreads your legs with his hands as he tugs you to the edge of the bed, kneeling down to press a firm kiss to the inside of both your thighs.

That’s when he does what he always does, turns you into a moaning mess by devouring your pussy like a man starved. Sucking, slurping and flicking his tongue all over your sex effortlessly like your body was made for him. Just how you felt the first time he ever touched and tasted you.

“Mhmm, just like that” you run your fingers through his styled locks, messing them up without a care. “I’m the only one for you" he mumbles and it vibrates onto your clit making you giggle.

“You’ve always been the only one” you whisper and he looks up at you with lustful eyes but also a look of love. One you’ve not seen before or maybe you’ve never noticed.

The way he looks at you isn’t new but all this time you’ve assumed it’s because of his attraction to you, that he’s only looking at you that way because of his uncontrollable lust.

“Only i am allowed to touch you like this, taste you” his lips wrap around your clit, sucking like his life depends on it as his thick digits tease your dripping entrance “s’wet sweetness”

You tug a little harder as you lift your bum off of the bed, grinding yourself on his face with a burning desire for that sweet release, the one only he has been able to give you “that’s it sweetness, cum all over my face, cum for daddy” his low and raspy voice spurring you on and talking dirty sends you over that edge as you cum with a loud moan. Quicker than usual.

You try to push him off as you scrunch your eyes closed, seeing stars. All you can focus on is how sensitive you are but he’s cleaning you up with his tongue, clearly can’t get enough of how you taste.

“Always so sweet” he gets back up, moving you further up the bed and parting your legs as he hovers above you with his fingers making quick work to slip your panties to the side. The tip of his cock rests at your entrance as he dips his head to capture your lips with his tongue pushing past them and into your mouth to battle with your tongue.

You can taste yourself on him and that alone arouses you leading you to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso “i need you, now” you plead, urging him to give you what you want, which he does. He pushes in slowly at first, seating himself deep inside before really moving.

His pace gets going, rocking his hips back and forth, making sure to fill you up all the way as you claw at his back, your mouth hanging open in the perfect O shape “fuck, daddy it feels so good” you groan moving with him in his thrusts.

“Feel good baby?” he pants, resting his head in the crook of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses to your weak spot “tell daddy how good it feels sweetness. Use your words” he growls and you lift his head up so you can kiss him, cupping his face with one hand “it feels incredible, please don’t stop”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Wanna feel that pussy cream all over my cock. Give it to me sweetness” he licks his index and middle fingers before pressing them down on your clit hard, rubbing aggressively as his pace turns animalistic.

He’s ramming into you with such vigor, his breath fanning your shoulder and the noises he’s making are a far cry from just moaning. No he’s not moaning, he’s upset too or at least bothered by something.

“Can feel you squeezing me sweetness, you close?” he kisses your shoulder but this time he’s more gentle, almost as if he’s afraid of breaking you.

“Yes, oh my god i’m gonna cum. Please, keep going”

The two of you move more frantically. Desperately chasing a joint release.

Grunts, growls and the sound of skin slapping together fills the room, the sound bouncing off of the walls as you both near closer. That’s when you turn the tables around, kissing his neck this time, biting too.

“I’m gonna cum daddy”

“God i love you so much, cum with me”

3.2.1

And you’re legs are shaking in the air, his cock starts to twitch before he coats your walls with his hot seed.

“I love you too”

As he looks back into your eyes, you see it, the tears brimming and threatening to spill but he quickly kisses you, knowing full well that it’ll distract you but not this time. You pull back to look again but he only moves.

“You know i don’t think i was ever angry at you” he starts, standing up to retrieve the towel “it was him. Seeing him flirting with you only made me realise what i wanted” you get off of the bed now, approaching him “call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else to touch you” he rests his forehead to yours, his hands resting on your waist “you’re mine, plain and simple”

“You never were one to do things the easy way” the two of you laugh before he kisses you “the easy way is boring”

Although you’re shocked about his confession, you daren’t pry more right now on his feelings. For now you just want to enjoy this moment. The two of you feel the same and that’s enough for you.

-----------------------------

General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferous @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @kaminorogers @yassspose @randomsevans

Just Chris & His Characters Tags: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina @janeyboo @evansphnx12 @whxre4cevans

LMK if you wanna be added to my tag list.

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ao3bronte · 3 years

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when chaos reigns [the sirens come to play]

A Merman AU. (Rated T with some suggestive language.) Now on AO3!

[Prologue]

Covid-19 and covert relationships don’t exactly go hand-in-hand these days, but you really shouldn’t be touching anyone’s hands right now anyway.

…that is, unless you don’t belong to the same species.

Can Merpeople catch Covid-19? That’s debatable, but news doesn’t exactly flow freely from the depths of the South China Sea. Though we know very little about Merpeople and their ways of life, we do know that they rarely interact with humans, preferring to tear down their ships and rip apart their dams and levies in revenge for poisoning the oceans and seas with their human fossil fuels.

But this isn’t a story about environmental politics, or Covid-19 for that matter. This is a story about love and about putting aside differences. In this tale, Marinette discovers that the term ‘scalie’ (ou écailleux, car nous sommes en France) doesn’t always refer to the commonly known adjective to describe fish skin. And Adrien, bless his heart, really does need to put on clothes when he’s not rocking a fish tail despite the fact that he’d much rather be naked (much to Marinette’s mortification). Anyway you slice it, Merpeople and humans simply aren’t supposed to be together — they’ve always been sworn enemies through and through — but no matter what alternate universe we find ourselves in, these two idiots in love will always find each other.

This is, undoubtedly, their story.

[Part 1]

It’s the beginning of March and Tom and Sabine aren’t taking any chances with this whole virus situation. Marinette seems to catch everything — illnesses, hands, the whole nine yards — and they’d already been talking about sending her down to the Cote d’Azur to spend the summer with her grandmother Gina Dupain in order to get away from Paris for a little while. The constant schoolyard bullying from Chloé Bourgeois has dragged Marinette down so many pegs that Sabine is almost relieved to see Macron call off school for the foreseeable future and books both her daughter and her husband a trip to Marseille before the entire country shuts down for good.

Marinette isn’t happy, of course, but what teen would be? Her friends are in Paris! The fashion is in Paris! She doesn’t want to stay in some sleepy little Mediterranean village where nothing ever happens! Do they even have Wi-Fi there?

It’s a valid question. Tom doesn’t actually know, but he chatters enough for the two of them as the high speed train takes them down the rails to the south of France. Marinette’s sulk lightens a little as he pulls pastry after pastry out of his luggage in the hopes of making his daughter smile just a little before dropping her off with his mother — he knows that their relationship is a little strange after Gina’s last visit to Paris but there’s nothing a little quality time together can’t fix.

Petite Befana is one of those places you find on a postcard. Situated just on the edge of France and Italy, the fishing village’s brightly coloured houses gleam in the sunlight, peppered with lemon trees and winding alleys that seem to almost spill out into the sea. The beaches are craggy and feature small grottos and coves of underground caves that glimmer with seaglass when the sun hits them just right, hiding a pocket sized oasis here and there for the adventurous who like to explore at low tide. Gina likes it here because of the Place du Marché, but Tom often wonders as to the real reason why she’s settled in the quaint harbour after years of Eat, Pray, Loving around the entire planet after divorcing his father.

She’s certainly made friends with every woman in town by the looks of it. Along with her veritable swarm of bar-hopping friends, Tom keeps seeing a woman with pointed features and deep black hair with a violent red streak in it pop up on her Facebook page. They always seem to be in the same jazz club, not that Tom is really paying attention; if his mother wants to spend her golden years drinking negronis and dancing with her girlfriends, that’s up to her.

They disembark the train in Marseilles and take a bus to Toulon, then another bus to Petite Befana. Marinette is passed out and drooling on his shoulder by the end of it so Tom does as he always does and hauls her up like a sack of flour through the thick and winding labyrinths of cobblestone streets towards his mother’s apartment. Gina greets them once he eventually finds the place and, after tucking Marinette into the daybed in the guest bedroom, happily guzzles down the proffered beer on the terrasse overlooking the sea.

“I’ll try to come down as often as I can,” Tom assures Gina, not knowing just how bad of a clusterfuck 2020 was about to become. “I’m sure Marinette will come to appreciate all that Petite Befana has to offer.”

“I’ll take her down to the market tomorrow morning,” Gina assures him, patting her son’s beefy forearms. “There’s an older woman who sells the most beautiful fabrics and I already dusted off my old sewing machine. That should keep her busy.”

“Marinette’s never happier when there’s a project to complete,” Tom responds with relief, downing the rest of his Kronenbourg. “I bet she’ll have an entire closet full of clothes by the time the month is out.”

“And it should only take a month or two for this to blow over.” Gina jabs her thumb towards the television as the news of Covid-19 murmurs in the background amid the waves of the Med on the shore. “And then we’ll be back to normal before you know it!”

(...and we all know how that turned out.)

[Part 2]

Covid-19 affects a lot of people in a lot of different ways. Some feel stir crazy. Others enjoy the alone time. But Marinette? Well, she’s been trapped in the harbours of Petit Befana for three weeks now and our aforementioned heroine is already bored out of her skull. She’s made three dresses, four satchels and twenty two scrunchies with the leftover fabric because what else is there to do down here? Luckily, Covid-19 hasn’t quite affected Petite Befana like it has the other regions of France and Marinette is able to go outside at least...not that she wants to.

There are more artisanal bakeries and charcuterie shops in Petite Befana than there are nightclubs and high end boutiques, which is odd for a village so beautifully situated on the coast of southeast France. Gina proudly boasts that her new home is often bypassed by the glitz and glam of Monaco; lavish superyachts and the seemingly endless stream of paparazzi prefer the glamour and uberwealth just west of their little village, leaving its sleepy inhabitants mostly alone to sell their goods to the tourists that stop by for a night on their bicycles and scooters. Marked with the Italian influences of its neighbour, Petit Befana truly is the little-known last stop on the famous Cote d’Azur which makes it an inspiring landscape for Marinette to discover…

...for all of four days.

She’s already so over Covid-19 and, like any teenager, she’s getting more and more annoyed by the day that she can’t hang out with her friends! Why did Maman and Papa send her down here?! All she wants to do is get back to Paris and design! It’s not like there’s anything fun to do here anyway, besides play video games all day in her bedroom; the only places that offer free WiFi are closed and she can only play Animal Crossing for so long before her grandmother insists on making her get some fresh air.

Ugh!

Grumbling under her breath, Marinette pulls on her raincoat and stomps down the laneway from the terrasse towards the sidestreet where her grandmother’s 1920’s bastide-style home resides. From the cobbled alley, Marinette watches the colourful array of fishing boats land their day’s catch right up on the harbourfront and heads down despite the storm clouds brewing on the horizon.

“Bonjour!” A group of older men wave as she makes her way down the ancient steps, the pathway shaded by thick palms and cacti. She pauses just long enough to ask who’s winning their game of socially distanced pétanque before continuing her way through the pines towards the gravel and sand beaches that line the shore.

The seafront is mostly boarded up, much to both Gina’s and Marinette’s disdain. Her grandmother used to spend most of her evenings at the jazz bar La Sirena with her friends, not that Marinette got to meet any of them. The lockdown shuttered pretty much everything the day after she kissed Papa goodbye and settled into her new life for the next month, but with three weeks already stretching into four, Marinette dejectedly wonders if she’ll ever see Paris again.

Passing the last brasserie on the boardwalk, Marinette leaves civilization for the long stretches of barren coastline. There’s all sorts of little inlets and grottos here and there, especially as she gets closer and closer to the Italian border. Unfortunately, it’s only April, which means it’s rainy, generally unpleasant and completely and utterly empty on the beach.

“No one to talk to, nothing to do…” Marinette sighs and tries to kick a piece of driftwood, only to miss it with her foot in true Marinette style. The faux pas — quite literally — sends her screaming and flailing her arms like an octopus on a ceiling fan as she dramatically plummets face first onto the wet, slimy gravel.

She groans and pushes herself up on her hands and knees, wincing as sea-weathered stones dig into her palms and kneecaps. Marinette is, above all, a walking disaster in every sense of the word — sometimes she wonders if the powers that be seek out to deliberately punish her with embarrassing things like this on purpose for their own amusement.

(ಸ_ಸ … *cough* Zag *cough*)

Marinette whimpers as she wipes chunks of seaweed and brownish foam off her cheeks and chin. At least no one was around to see her fall over — thank god — but she’ll still have to do the laundry when she gets home. She’s covered in muck and little bits of oily slime that are sure to stain if she doesn’t wash it out soon. Marinette grimaces as she tries to shake it off of her hands; humans really have done a number on the seas and oceans...like, why is her front so sticky? She glances at some of the garbage on the shore as she sits on her haunches and wonders if the news has it all wrong. Maybe the merpeople taking potshots at rich people on yachts with old cans and plastic sea trash really do have the moral upper hand…

Marinette, being Marinette, would have continued to stare dazed and confused into space well into the afternoon had it not been for the impossibly shiny something or other sparkling in the grotto straight ahead.

[NEXT PART...]

#miraculous ladybug #mermaid au #lovesquare #adrinette #adrienette #Bronte's Mermaid AU #ml

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stuckasmain · 3 years

Text

Carrie (1976)-

Was this supposed to be a horror movie as I honestly ended up crying. You just sympathize so much with her and I feel so bad the entire time? Like this girl has a INSANE evangelical mother who teaches her very little about her body much less social skills, the kids at her school are pure evil and get a serious kick out of tormenting a awkward kid. When she gets one person who’s nice to her it causes her main tormentor to go Insane and blame her for all her shit behavior. LOOK WHERE THAT GOT YOU CHRIS, enjoy hell sweetie 💕.

However the movie itself , no matter how hard I sympathized with carry how much I kinda understand. I am a awkward kid, I keep my heads down in the halls and charge forward to my next class with that silent fear in the back of my mind all those people are talking about and judging me. Unfortunately in carries case that’s 100% what is happening. Back to the point- the movie is great honestly.

SO JOHN TRAVOLTA IS IN THIS MOVIE AND I DIDNT KNOW THAT? He plays a ripe dumbass with a manipulative as hell girlfriend, have I mentioned how much I detest Chris yet? She’s like every bully rolled into one and it’s - it’s like a walking talking punching bag you just want to destroy. Serious props to the actress , as she’s pretty damn good if my bloods actually boiling. Also what’s up with pride ™️ chick? She’s always in a red hat with rainbow everything - like she’s trying to sell me targets pride collection? She’s just as much of a ass with one of those point and jump laughs.

The good ones-

However Carrie does have a few good people in her life. Miss Collins is a beacon of light in this movie, she is also a brain cell. She does slap a student, but in her defense— she should have hit Chris harder (did I mention I hate her yet?) she is gym teacher energy. How she acts almost motherly to Carrie, doing all the things a mother should anyway, encourage her to find herself, look pretty/be confident and get herself out there the poor girl needs it. The scene when she takes Carrie into the bathroom to show her how truely pretty she is got me 🥺. Unfortunately she suffers because of her care for Carrie , as ultimately she takes out the one person who could have prevented the prom massacre... which unfortunately resulted in her death.

Sue, I have to give her credit. Usually I can predict things pretty well I can see things coming. She kept flip flopping my radar. Was she with Chris in the plan or genuinely wanted to give Carrie a win after seeing the error in her actions?! Sometimes I guess it takes a brutal gym work out to realize- hey my actions were pretty horrific I should probably make up for that. I was kinda surprised and please where it was revealed she wasn’t apart of the blood plan. I did think she was for a solid moment as her smile watching out... rocking... waiting... but she wasn’t. Sue actually meant good and she did survive to unfortunately have Freddy Kruger esc nightmares.

Tommy, again like sue I couldn’t tell if he was genuine or not. From the beginning you can actually tell he’s - shocker to this universe - a decent human being. Like Hess he was pushed to go to prom with Carrie but at the same time. His kindness and words were genuine , and he gave Carrie that little push to be a little more out there and discover fun. The dance scene had me crying and I wished it ended there really. Also pleased that he wasn’t apart of the plot as he was one of the many in the crowd appalled. Also did the bucket kill him? As I’m pretty sure it was the bucket it hit that man HARD.

Anyway rip these there y’all were the nice ones 😔

The themes in the film two were also extremely interesting like how Carrie interacted with the highly abusive “I’ll hurt myself so she’ll do what I want” mama. Like the line “this has got nothin’ to do with Satan mama! It’s me!” Got me hard. How the further into the film the more stuff is brought up, like the first song in prom mentions the devil, Tommy himself says a few biblical like jokes. That sort of thing.

Also this:

Which is brilliant in my eyes

As sad as the movie gets me it has its sweet moments and funny ones

Like Carrie going ham trying out the different make ups

The great ruffle tuxedo debate

Overall love the movie, I’m assuming the movie is completely different isn’t it?

#Carrie white #tommy ross #miss Collins #Carrie #carrie 1976 #sue snell #john travolta

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yourcoffindoor · 3 years

Text

Bulletproof Heart Pt.4

AN: YAY its finally here! Thank you so much to everyone for reading and for your patience! This is the final part of this series. enjoy <3

"Y/N?" a gentle tap on the wall outside your bunk. It was Liz. "We have an interview with Spin in like 5 minutes."

You groaned and pulled your wrinkled sheet over your face, turning away from the sound of her voice, soft and hesitant as though she were afraid the slightest noise would shatter you further.

"You guys go without me," was your muffled reply, "I've hogged the spotlight enough anyway."

" Are you sure? They'll probably be pissed the lead singer isn't there."

"Then let them be pissed."

Liz lingered in silence for a moment before deciding it was best to leave you be. It had been a couple of weeks since you'd found out about Alex's little foray into filmmaking, and a gush of old trauma had emerged new again. All the work you had put in to rebuild yourself and to forge a new life had all but crumbled away in a matter of minutes, and you isolated yourself in response.

You stopped leaving the bus because of the stares. Once rumors had gotten out that there was video footage of you doing the deed, people seemed to glance over at you before whispering insidious somethings among their companions. You didn't need to hear their conversations to know just how humiliating their words were. Things took a turn for the worse when reporters began to have the audacity to ask you about the video, probing into if you were in a relationship with Alex. It was then that you realized he had sabotaged your moment, your success, and made it all about him.

You began to miss a few shows, something you had never done before. But you just couldn't bring yourself to give a damn. Your bandmates kept their distance, realizing you needed your space; but their concern was permanently painted on their faces.

"Hey Y/N," Gavin spoke hesitantly one afternoon, "You know...Gerard's been asking about you."

The sound of his name made your heart beat quicker. You hadn't made an effort to see him since the video came out. "Oh?"

"Yeah he really wants to see you. He's worried about you...we all are."

"I'm fine." you said curtly. "I mean, tell him not to. I'm fine. I just need to be alone."

"You sure? I think some social interaction might do you some good--"

"Gavin, I want to be alone. Please."

He merely nodded before heading out the bus door, finally giving you what you asked for.

Out of respect for the fans, you managed to pick yourself for performances again, but it felt like you were merely going through the motions, your passion nearly extinguished. You became angry at yourself for feeling this way, like you were giving up on yourself and your goals. Between sadness and guilt, there was no bright side you could look to as an escape.

Then, you ran into Alex.

This was what you had really been dreading. You knew how smug he must be, knowing he must've gotten under your skin, his favorite place to be. You'd snuck out of the bus for some much needed fresh air, but you didn't need to go far before you heard your name being called.

"Y/N! wait up!" a chill shot down your spine. You didn't turn around. Instead, you began walking faster.

"Hey, hey, hold on a second--" He grasped your arm, but you pulled it back so quickly it seemed to surprise him.

"Leave me the fuck alone."

"C'mon don't be mad."

You couldn't help but laugh at the nerve of his comment. "How could I not be? I didn't even know you had filmed me. I didn't get to agree to any of this! And then you decide to make it public? And you," you said, angry tears building up to a waterfall, pushing a fist into his chest, "you are a nightmare that won't go away! Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Alex was calm-- So calm that it only angered you further. "You're thinking about this the wrong way. The publicity could be great--I mean people are already eating it up. They love us together. Honestly? I did us both a favor." He smirked, making your skin crawl. "But there's something else, Y/N. Something you should remember." He leaned forward, speaking into your ear in a low, serpentine voice, "This is what happens when you think you can go off and make something of yourself without me."

You were speechless, your stomach dropping as if it had been kicked. "You're disgusting. I'm leaving."

"Going to see your friend Gerard? Hey, ask him what he thinks of our movie for me. I'm making another one with some My Chem fans anyway." He spoke to you with your back turned, already walking away, but you could hear him smiling.

You halted in your steps, torn between slapping Alex across the face, crying, or simply walking away. After a deep breath and far more self control than you knew you possesed, you chose the latter, swiftly walking back towards your bus to isolate once more.

****

The sun was revolting.

That was the first thought when Gavin flung open the curtain that marked the border of your bunk, your own personal ecosystem that no one had dared enter for the past few weeks. He kneeled on your mattress and reached over you to open the blinds on your wall, and you winced as the sun struck your face like a laser.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N!"

"Gavin, its August."

"Well it might as well be Christmas when you hear what I have to tell you."

You groaned and rubbed your eyes. "What is it? I'm prepared to be underwhelmed."

"I didn't even need to open that window! There's that bright and sunny optimism we've come to know and love."

You hit him with a pillow. "Out with it."

"Alex got--"

"ALEX GOT KICKED OFF WARPED TOUR!" Liz shouted, bursting into your bunk from out of nowhere.

"What the hell Liz! I wanted to tell her!"

"Too slow!"she teased.

Your head was reeling. "Wait, wait, wait....what? How?"

"Don't know all the details but it definitley had to do with his...activities. Turns out he was asking underage fans to flash him and his band to get backstage and shit. Someone snitched I guess, thank god. The whole band's been kicked off and banned from Warped tour.

For the first time in forever, you laughed.

You practically cackled. You laughed so much that it felt like you couldn't stop.

"I think we broke her." Liz muttered to Gavin.

"That's fucking amazing." you said, wiping tears from your eyes.

"It is, and its good to hear you laugh again." Gavin said. "Come out with us later, to celebrate."

"I will sometime, but I'm still not quite ready. People are gonna try to ask me questions, I just know it. I'm still not up for it."

Liz and Gavin nodded. "We'll be here when you are."

***

Later that afternoon a few quick knocks sounded from the bus door. You debated getting up to answer it, but human interaction was the last thing you wanted right now. There were a few more small knocks; and you able to ignore the unwanted visitor until, after a moment of silence, something slid under the door. Once you heard their footsteps disappear into the distance, you peeled yourself from your nest on the couch to investigate.

It was a white envelope with your name scrawled across the front. You hesitated for moment, wondering if another piece of your past was about to jump out and bite you. But after steeling yourself you pressed on, your fingers swiftly retrieving the mysterious contents.

You immediately smiled. It was a card with a drawing of you on the front, in a style that was unmistakably Gerard's. You were on stage wailing into the mic, confidently waving your middle finger. You couldn't help but laugh.

Fuck em all. The world needs you out there. If you're feeling up to it, come to our set tonight.

Hope to see you there.

-G

You closed the card and reveled in the much needed buzz of happiness it gave you. Gerard. You thought he would've have been angry with you since you had all but ghosted him these past few weeks, but that clearly wasn't the case. Your legs wanted to run after him, but you as you were covered in dorito dust and sadness, you decided to stay put. You'd make yourself somewhat presentable and then see their performance tonight.

***

You stood just off stage, just hidden enough in your oversized hoodie to feel comfortable. Right before they began their set, Gerard turned and saw you, eyes widening with a glad surprise as though he hadn't thought you'd actually come. His expression quickly melted into a welcoming smile, and you couldn't help but break out into soft grin of your own.

The band greeted the crowd, already energized and cheering them on. You'd expected them to launch into a song, but instead Gerard began speaking.

"This is a special set tonight guys, because someone very important to me is here. Someone so strong, so kickass that sometimes I wonder if she's even a real fucking human being." He glanced over at you, eyes electric and impassioned, immediately i heat rise to your shrouded cheeks. "Well some asshole tried to hurt her. Tried to make her feel small. But I want her to remember she's too fucking amazing to ever let someone make her feel that way."

You could feel the sting in your eyes as tears began to build.

"And that goes for all of you out there, cause these same assholes have been messing with fans too. So if you ever see shitty ass rock dudes in shitty ass rock bands asking you to show them your tits for backstage passes, I want you to spit right in their fucking faces and yell 'FUCK YOU!”

The crowd went crazy, and you couldn't help but let out a small cheer as well, despite the tears streaming down your face.

"Y/N," Gerard breathed, "This is for you." and with that, the band launched into one of the most passionate sets you'd ever seen. You stayed for it all, loving every moment. As soon as it was finished, Gerard thanked the crowd and made a beeline off stage, directly where you had been stationed all evening.

His eyes were dancing with happiness at the sight of you, pumping with the adrenaline of performing, sweat still dripping from his dark hair. "Hi," he said,pausing for amoment as though he was holding back from so much more, "you came!"

"After the invitation I received? How could I not?"

"So you liked it?"He beamed, his cheeks, pink from exertion, reddened further. "I wanted to do like a mini comic but I ran out of time." As he grinned, fresh crimson gleamed from a small split in his lower lip. What you thought had been makeup turned out to be a genuine injury.

"You're bleeding." you observed softly.

His brows furrowed in confusion, a finger darting to his lip. He dabbed it, smearing blood onto his chin.

"Damn, again? Don't worry, it's nothing."

You didn't hesitate to grab a tissue from your pocket, step forward and gently press it against his cut. He looked down at you with affection, causing you to look away as your heartbeat picked up its pace. Instead you analyzed his face and noticed it was patterned with small bruises.

"Doesn't look like 'nothing' to me. What happened?"

It had been just the two of you speaking intimately just off stage, but crew and media began pouring through and milling about the area. You realized just how close you were standing to Gerard, and pulled your hand back when you noticed people watching. A pew passerbys patted Gerard on the back, offering their compliments of the band's performance. He quickly thanked them, barely turning his attention from you, afraid you might run off. He grabbed your hand, leading you to a quiet area.

"I may have gotten into a fight."

"What!? You don't even leave your bus, how did you get into a fight?"

"I had to. Someone very important to me was being hurt."

You stared at him for a moment, putting the pieces together in your head. Gerard knowing about the video, Alex's sudden departure from the tour...

"Gerard, you didn't."

"I did, and I'd do it again, Y/N. Besides, you can't say he didn't have an ass-kicking coming to him."

You let out a soft laugh, but your vision began to blur as tears welled. A swirl of emotions welled inside of you, tumultuous and much more than you had anticipated feeling tonight. You were touched that Gerard was so concerned about you. Embarrassed that he had to get involved at all. Glad that he did, after all.

At the sight of your tears, he stepped closer. It was him now who tenderly wiped your face, brushing away stray tears with his thumb.

"Jesus, Y/N, I can stand a few punches to the face but I can't stand seeing you cry."

That was all you needed to hear to get oceans pouring from your eyes instead of streams. You embraced Gerard, burying your head into his shoulder. Gerard folded his arms around you in response.

"Y/N I want to tell you...I mean I hope you know...just how important you are to me and how I feel about you. You deserve to be happy."

"You're so nice to me that I almost don't know how to process it." you admitted beneath an awkard, tear-ridden laugh. "Thank you. You need to know you're important to me too. I..I just--" You planted an aggressive kiss on his cheek, unable to express your myriad of emotions in words.

"There, I think that expresses everything."

"Everything?"Gerard asked, brushing a strand oh hair behind your shoulder, "There's a few points I'd like to add."

His hand cupped the side of your face and your lips met, softly at first, a salty mixture of tears and coppery blood. The kiss quickly deepened, caught in your own world, unable to get enough of the taste of each other. That is until Gerard winced and pulled back, blood dripping from his lower lip. His cut had only deepened from your exertions.

"We'll have to postpone this until that's better." you said, handing him another tissue.

"Damn. Kinda regretting that fight now." He laughed.

"Don't regret it. Besides, its not an entirely bad look on you." you teased.

A bashful expression crossed his face as he brushed his hair back from his face.

"I hate to say it but I have a press thing to do in a few minutes with the guys. Meet me in my bus later?" He said, offering another peck on your cheek.

"I'd be crazy not to." you replied, ambushing him with one final hug before he walked off.

You realized something immediately. Despite everything, the heartache, the surprises--you regretted nothing. And as you lifted your fingers to your lips, still buzzing from impact, you knew this had been a tour that changed your life, after all.

Tomorrow, you'd be back onstage, ready to begin again.

Taglist: @pacifymebby

#gerard way fanfic #gerard way imagine #gerard way x reader #my chemical romance fanfiction

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ljstlr · 3 years

Text

Unspoken Words.

vernon (hansol) x reader

genre: angst

! tw: cigarettes, alcohol, bullying.

words: 2119

——————————————————————————

You can’t exactly explain how this set-up happened. It was 3 in the morning and you were smoking cigarettes with the guy who lived next door at the back of a convenience store. The vibe that the night gave was spectacular and you both sat there in silence.

There was only 4 hours left until school starts so you and your ‘friend’ smoked your last cigarette and called it a day. You walked back to your houses and he nodded at you when you reach your front porch.

He gave you a faint smile and you gave him one back. You quietly tip-toed to your room and immediately fell asleep with the contact of your bed.

By the afternoon, you were trying hard to keep up with the conversations in your lunch table. Everyone was talking at once and it was hard to focus on just one. When you were about to speak to make everyone shut up, you saw something that caught your attention.

Vernon was being dragged by the collar once again by the same group of boys. You watch as they push him around and have evil laughs come out their mouths. The pain in Vernon’s face was evident but he never fought back.

And you wondered why.

The chaos eventually stopped when a teacher stepped in and assisted Vernon away from the scene. You always felt bad for him, but you never felt like it was your place to speak up about it.

The faint sounds of rocks tapping your window was a signal from your neighbor that he was ready to go to the usual spot. You blinked your lights twice to tell him that you were coming.

You unlocked the house door as quite as possible and you saw him sitting in the sidewalk as he waited for you. He gave you a smile as he stood up and dusted off the dirt on his pants. You offered one back.

As usual, the walk to the store was quiet. You watched as he pulled out his fake ID to purchase a pack of cigarettes and a few beers. The two of you then hid behind the store and sat at the usual spot to consume the products that he recently bought.

The smoke from the cigarettes surrounded your vision. The two of you weren’t that addicted to smoking and a pack would usually last you both a week. The silence was relaxing as you felt the alcohol pass through your throat for the first time that night.

Hours passed and the usual four hours before school starts mark came so you signaled him that it was time to go but he gestured you to stop and sit down for a second.

“(y/n), I need to tell you something.” You were taken aback when the boy spoke to you. These were the first words that he ever told you after months of hanging out at midnight.

“Hit me.” You told him which put a smile in his face. You were yet to know that he was glad to finally hear your voice after the longest time.

“I’m moving out of the state.” He spoke and you were … in disbelief. Your heart felt as if like it sank and you can’t exactly explain why.

Maybe because he became your safe zone where you could be yourself for a moment. Although words were never exchanged, you considered him as someone who’s close to you because he never once judged you for enjoying things like smoking or drinking – he even joined you to it.

“Can I ask why?” You replied and he nodded.

“My guardians found out about the bullying in school. They want to take me away to another state for a clean start.” Vernon explained and you frowned.

Vernon obviously was considered an outcast at school. He was silent and that made stupid bullies push him around because he never talked back. They would even bring up the boy’s dark past, but he still remained quiet. You honestly hated it, but who were you to judge him when you barely knew anything about him?

“How long until you leave?” You ask and you were scared for the answer.

“A week.” And you can’t deny that you wished that a week would never come.

In the morning, you woke up ahead of your alarm to get ready for school. Your parents were in shock seeing you leave for school so early when you were always a late comer – they’d have to drag you to the bathroom in the usual mornings for you to leave your bed.

But you couldn’t afford to be late. You had to spend time with him before he left. A smile was painted on your face as you ran towards Vernon who was a few steps ahead from you. He was shocked to see you.

“(y/n)?” He spoke with a clear indication that he was confused on why you were interacting with him. It wasn’t midnight, and it was clear day.

No one knew that you were friends with him. That would ruin you.

“Let’s walk to school, don’t want to be late.” You simply responded and he stood in his spot still confused. But nevertheless, he couldn’t contain his smile as he walked fast to catch up with you.

And there it was, the stares. He felt nervous as people started to chatter, laugh, whisper, and look at the two of you. But you didn’t care, and Vernon saw that. He was left in awe as you ignored everyone and kept walking with him.

Suddenly, your path was blocked by a very familiar set of men.

“Are you fucking serious, (y/n)?” Minghao spoke in a harsh tone.

You hated the term, but you were part of the students who were considered popular. And your group of friends valued their reputation like a saint on a pedestal, so other students seeing you with someone like Vernon would cause them problems.

“Yes, I am, Minghao. And if you don’t leave him alone, God knows what little secret of yours I’d tattle that’ll ruin the shit out of you.” You responded bravely and quickly took a hold of Vernon’s arm to walk away.

Vernon could feel his heartbeat racing in his chest; he even felt like it would jump out and just collide with yours but that’s anatomically impossible, right?

You spent the entire day at school with Vernon. And you loved every second of it. Every time he spoke, he made you laugh and smile. And every single word you would say, he’d listen carefully. You wished you spent more time with him like this.

The smile you showed to everyone that day was more genuine than ever and even the people around you noticed that. Vernon, he really just made you feel like you’re over the moon.

Vernon felt the same way as he watched you talk about your favorite band while munching on your yogurt. He was pretty sure that the ice cream shop’s employees were bothered by you being really talkative, but he showed no care.

He loved seeing you like this.

The days flew by fast, and you grew so much closer to Vernon in that short span of days. When you were together, it’s like the people around you don’t exist, and the world was made only for the two of you.

You were in the park today. You sat down on the swing as Vernon insisted to push the swing for you as you both waited for the sunset. The calming silence coming back once again after days and days of just talking.

“Vernon, can I ask you something?” You asked; eyes focused on the sun that’s about to set.

“Hit me.” He chuckled as he mimicked your first words to him.

“How come you never spoke up to the bullies...?” He let out a sigh when you finished your sentence.

You felt the swaying of your swing put to a halt as he sat down on the swing seat next to yours.

“My parents were everything to me back then, (y/n).” He spoke and you could see the tears that were waiting to break free from his eyes.

“Before my mom died, her last words to me were ‘don’t you ever be a prey, son.’” He let out a faint laugh.

“And so, even if I was being pushed down, dragged around, whatever shit they gave me. I never talk back cause if I do, it’s an indication to them that they’re getting to me.” He paused for a while to appreciate the beauty of the sunset.

“That’s why they won’t leave me alone, (y/n). They hated that I never once fought back or told them to stop, because they want the inferiority complex to know that they have a prey, but I didn’t give them that.” He took a deep breath.

His parents were preys of the rich people when he was younger. They were wrongfully pinpointed with being drug addicts that was causing the chaos in the neighborhood and everyone believed that because they talked back.

They tried to fight for themselves and the rich knew that they had their prey. Which lead to their unjustified execution and left Vernon parentless. He loved his parents with his whole heart, but he refused to go down the same road as them.

“(y/n), with words being left unspoken, you’re much safer that way.” He finally turned to look at you and gave you a smile.

You smiled back and took a hold of his hand. His heart started racing once again.

“As the sun sets tonight, I want you to set away everything that has happened here, Vernon. Every single thing.” You whispered to him.

In the back of your mind, you never wanted him to forget you. But he’s already been through enough and he deserves that.

You could see the same reaction in his eyes. He didn’t want to forget about you, hell, he even wants to stay back for you.

But he knows you wouldn’t like that.

“And as the sun rises tomorrow, I want you to rise up and kick ass in the new life you’re about to have.” He laughed as you finished with your words.

You squeezed his hands and it caused him to hold tighter onto yours. And you were glad he couldn’t hear the loud beating that your heart was going through right now.

“You deserve a clean start, Vernon. You have a heart of gold and the best things in life belongs to you.” You reassured him.

You felt him move closer to you and you don’t know how your heart is still alive at this point. But you moved closer as well until the gap between the two of you eventually closed.

As the sun sets in the background, you shared a passionate kiss.

The next day, you watched people lift heavy boxes onto a moving truck next door. You couldn’t bring yourself to come down and say goodbye to Vernon because you’re scared that you might get down on your knees and beg him not to go.

And for the past days, that’s what Vernon has been waiting for you to do. Especially since the kiss last night, he hated to leave you all alone in this town. But he knows you well and you don’t want to hold him back. He sighed as he closed the door of his house next to you one last time.

Before getting into the car, he looked up to your window and saw you watching him. He waved you goodbye and so did you.

“Until the next time that we meet.” You mouthed to each other which caused the both of you to share a laugh one last time.

He smiled through the pain and finally got inside their car. You watched as the cars and trucks leave their driveway and he was officially gone. You laid down on your bed to look up in the ceiling, but you felt something uncomfortable under your pillow.

You sat up and removed the pillow near the bedframe and you saw an almost crushed cigarette box resting under.

You picked up the box and saw that there were three remaining cigarette sticks inside. You shook the box and the sticks fell directly in your palm.

You noticed a blank ink residue, so you used your finger to rotate the sticks and you saw that each stick had written words in them.

To my dearest (y/n), the first stick wrote.

The sun of my life, the second stick wrote.

I love you. the last stick wrote.

You let go of the first two sticks for a while and hold on to the last stick. You felt a tear come out of your eye as you read the words over and over.

“I love you too, Vernon.” And just like how your story with Vernon started, it ended the same way,

With words being left unspoken.

#vernon fic #vernon x reader #hansol x reader #hansol fic #seventeen fic #svt fic #seventeen scenarios #svt scenario #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt vernon #svt hansol #vernon #hansol #kpop fic

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darklightmiwxo · 3 years

Text

Mcr history

[B]MCR HISTORY IN DETAIL:

This is MCR history it is long and in details. This is different since I'm adding many details that not many people know. Hopefully you will enjoy this. I worked hard on this. These I found in websites,videos,fandoms,MCR magazines,etc. From baby to today but by dates.

[B]Babies/young kids:

[I]Gerard way/Mikey way :

Gerard Way was born on April 9th 1977 in New Jersey. He is half Italian. He later on had a back problem that affected him for the rest of his life (scoliosis) Gerard is allergic to cats. Mikey way was born September 10th 1980. Gerard and Mikey were very close to each other. They became best friends. Gerard and Mikey couldn't go outside and play with other kids since new jersey was very dangerous with murders and kidnapping happening often so Gerard and Mikey would just play with each other. Ms Way said that when Gerard ran mikey try to learn to walk but instead he try to run but he fell on his face. Gerard and Mikey grandma help them get into art she would give them papers and markers for them to use.

Here is baby Gerard and mikey:

[IMG=STQ]

[IMG=KJ5]

[IMG=M8K]

[I]Frank iero:

[IMG=UBP]

[IMG=I87]

Frank was born on October 31 1981 in New Jersey. Who has Italian in his blood. Frank was a only child. His parents divorced when he was very young.Frank's dad and grandfather played drums in their own band. Frank went to the hospital a lot and had lots of health problems he had ear infections, broncadus and he has a weak immune system he also had asma. Frank became a vegetarian when he found out about animals getting killed so he decided to not eat meat anymore.

Frank visited his dad only in the weekends he would take him to bars so Frank would watch him play. Frank's mom was poor she couldn't even buy milk which was said by Frank.

[I]Ray toro:

[IMG=2LH]

Ray toro was born on July 15 1977 in New Jersey. He is Puerto Rican. He has 2 older brothers. Ray couldn't go outside to play with kids since new jersey was too dangerous.

[B]Kids:

[I]Gerard way/Mikey way:

[IMG=12Q]

[IMG=LA9]

[IMG=40Y]

[IMG=PIN]

Gerard and Mikey went to the same schools. Gerard would often draw since he loved to draw. Gerard and Mikey often share music to each other. Gerard was bullied badly at school that he had to change school. Gerard joined to be part of a play at his new school he was Peter Pan. He sang his part on stage. Later on middle school started and Gerard and Mikey stayed in the same school but they both deal with bullying.

[I]Frank Iero:

[IMG=HHZ]

Frank was bullied often at school. He went to hospitals often still. He is very close to his mother. Frank's father made Frank try to plays some drums but he didn't want to play drums he wanted to play guitar so they gave him a guitar he played a few notes. frank self taught himself.

[I]Ray toro:

His older brother knew how to play guitar he would often give CDs for Ray to hear. His brother taught him how to play guitar and Ray learned guitar.

[B]Teenagers:

[IMG=ZJE]

[I]Gerard Way:

Gerard Way learned to play a little bit of guitar. he gotten really good at drawing. He joined a band in high school but he got kicked out for not playing a song they wanted. He also wasn't good at guitar. So Gerard and a friend of him made a comic book together. But some how they couldn't sell it in a comic book store. Gerard spread all summer copying another art style of another comic book but soon he made his own style. Gerard was still bullied at school.

[I]Mikey way:

he dreamed to be in a band and it was always his dream.

[I]Frank Iero:

Frank played guitar well he would often get beaten up at school. Frank created a band called pencey prep with his school friends.

[I]Ray Toro:

Ray toro became a pro guitarist he learned to play metallica songs.

[B]Young Adults:

[I]Gerard:

He went to art school after he finished high school. They taught him some things. Gerard met a friend who introduce him to Ray Toro. Gerard art did well that he worked for cartoon network to make a tv show. Gerard was drawing for a show He was working on a show called the breakfast monkey show. Gerard and Ray made a song together for the show. The intro of the song. On September 11th 2001 Gerard went to New York for a final meeting for the tv show. On his way to the meeting he saw a plane hit a tower. Then another plane hit the other tower. Gerard watched people around him cry and with fear but Gerard said he didn't sad. He was afraid of what was going to happen to the world he though are you happy where your life is right now. Is this really important. So the meeting was canceled. Gerard went home and wrote the first MCR song "Skylines and turnstiles". Gerard met Oliver who worked at a bar he was his friend and he often chatted with him. Gerard asked him if he could be part of his band he was making.

[I]Ray toro:

Gerard called him. Ray haven't seen Gerard for a while since Gerard was always in his house avoiding human contact. He asked Ray if he could be part of his band. He told him to come over to check out what they were making he didn't have to join but he wanted him to come over. So Ray went over to Oliver's house. Gerard showed him the song he was making Ray joined the band.

[I]Mikey Way:

Mikey heard of gerards band. He heard their music and he loved it that he took bass classes and joined the band.

[I]Gerard way:

The band created a few songs then they went to eyeball records they were outside their door and they asked them if they could be signed they gave them their music for the label to hear. The label loved it so they signed them. A radio host who was there heard of the band and he said he will put them on the radio which he did and it gain them fans.

The band didn't have a name.

Gerard and Mikey worked in Barnes and novel. Gerard worked in the music area while mikey worked in the book area. Mikey one day looked behind a book and the reviews said tales of chemical romance so mikey thought what if you put my in front of it. Mikey told Gerard his idea and Gerard loved it he thought it fit the band with their music and the band in general.

[I]Frank iero:

Frank worked on a album for pencey prep once he was done they sign with eyeball record and started to do tours. Frank once went to a party and he saw a woman fighting with another woman she punch the girls face. Frank fell in love with the girl that girls name was jamia.

Frank heard of MCR since the label would gave random CDs to the bands part of the label. Frank said we often hear Mcr demos in the car when we go around town to do shows.

[B]Bullet era:

Gerard went to a bar with mikey and Alex from eye ball. They went for a drink. Gerard saw pencey prep playing their show. Gerard Said he was amazed by Frank who was destroying the stage with the energy he had he looked like he was playing for thousands of people and that was what the band needed. Gerard knew they needed a new guitarist since he couldn't play guitar. He met the kid and they became friends.

Pencey prep would often travel to many states in a podcast Frank said that pencey prep would work on their music in each other's parents basement. They rented a building in a warehouse which was shared with other bands they knew mcr during this time. They would play music in a small room in that place even one of the band members live in that place with some other band member of a different band. One day one of the members of pencey prep broken down the wall of the room they played in to make it bigger since it was 2 separated room they made it to one big room and that is where mcr did their album and other bands pencey prep invited. Gerard and Frank painted in that room together at night and the chemicals of the paint had made both Gerard and Frank high. They later on blame that another band that run a party and made a big mess broken down the wall and lying saying that they didn't actually break it. They did get away with it.

*casual interactions on YouTube podcast*

Later on Pencey prep tour with Thursday and MCR. MCR was poor but Frank was nice enough to let them use the back stage room.

MCR played a few shows and gain fans. The radio host said fans were obsessed with vampires will never hurt you.

They often ask him to play it.

MCR were recording bullets but Gerard had a teeth problem and also anxiety. His tooth hurt him so much he would hit his head on the wall,bang his head on a car hood and he would cry and scream so badly that he often went to the hospital. He also had fear. He was going to give up he said "I can't do this anymore" the producer yelled and slapped his face to get his shit together and do the recording. Gerard later on got surgery on his tooth.

Pencey prep broken up

[B]I am a graveyard

Frank's band that didn't go as great as pencey prep. Only three members of pencey were in this band and one of the members of pencey left. They played a few shows but then they broken up.

Gerard asked Frank if he could join the band since they needed a guitarist and Ray couldn't play every guitar part. Frank said yes you guys are my fave band. MCR created have already created a few songs without Frank but 3 songs on bullets had Frank in it. Like early sunset over Manhattan for example. Ray and Frank said their ways are different Ray was more the metal kid while Frank was the punk rock kid but it worked. Frank could play parts Ray couldn't play and Ray played parts Frank couldn't play.

I brought you my bullets you brought me your love was released in 2002. The radio host played the album on the radio. MCR opened for Thursday,taking back Sunday. Fans loved MCR and they gain fans. Soon MCR traveled outside the state's Gerard and mikeys grandma brought them a van for tour.

The band went on tour as they played for fans in small venues. Even the place was too small for the fans since many people wanted to see them. Brian their tour manager made Gerard meet the used. He met bert and thought he was crazy but they later on became good friends

(Very good friends they became boyfriends)

Gerard started drinking and doing drugs with bert. Frank and jamia became girlfriends and boyfriends. MCR were poor they didn't have much food or clothes. They said they were used to a hungry stomach. But other bands were kind enough to give food and clothes to them. Their album didn't make it to record stores. So fans didn't have a way to buy the CD it was limited. MCR didn't even have merch to sell. Gerard made his own merch called thank you for the venom.

MCR became more popular.

Gerard was sexually confused

In 2003 there was a party mcr attempted. This was planned. It was filmed.

Frank was with Gerard and jamia next to him.

A guy was fighting Gerard. Frank fighted the guy to protect Gerard he ran after the guy but Ray stopped him.

Gerard and bert tour together and they made a song.

[B]Revenge era:

Gerard and mikeys grandma died. Which affected the band they made a song for her.

Warner brothers wanted to sign MCR but they rejected many labels they soon said yes to them. The band gotten a tour bus.

They had a producer named Howard who helped them create a album the band would create something and they think he will like it but he hated it he told them what is this going to be, what are you saying. They soon made songs he would like.

Once the album was done they kicked out Oliver when they finished the bullet tour. They kicked him out for not playing well he didn't want to use drum beats. He mess up often when playing so they kicked him out. They gotten Bob who he played in other bands as a dj and they didn't know he could play drums. Bob is from Chicago. He was all about tech and that is what the band needed. He joined the band.

Gerard was on his worst of the drugs and achohol that it made him sick he was very depressed and suicidal they were going to finish the album when Gerard was going for a walk and he wasn't seen for 2 days Frank was asking for help for people to find him.

Gerard was found.

Gerard said he did men favors for cocaine.

(Gerard and Frank started to be more than just friends they became boyfriends. Frank was a swinger so he had both Gerard and jamia. She seem ok with it because if she wasn't Frank wouldn't date Gerard. This is part for the frerard shipper)

Three cheers for sweet revenge was release they started touring. They went to Europe and Japan. While in Japan Gerard was getting worst he was throwing up so much. He once throw up for 45 mins then he said he was done.

Gerard became clean.

Their first music video was made it was I'm not okay and they gotten popular the shows gotten bigger they played in bigger venues and outdoor concert places.

MCR were always dirty they couldn't shower for many days and they smelled bad their clothes were always dirty. They toured with fall out boy for a while even Jimmy eat world and other bands. They were nominated in the vma.

The album gotten awards later on.

They did a world tour.

Gerard gotten a girlfriend named Ellie (aka the crazy fan)

[B]The black parade era:

The band were done touring they created some songs in the tour bus (I don't love you,teenagers) they wanted to stay in a cheap house. So they stayed in a haunted mansion. Mikey said he was feeling lost and depressed when they were on their way to L.A and the haunted house was making his problems bigger. The mansion name is called the paramour house. There were rumors of ghost and the place being haunted. Celebs would stay there often to make music or work.

[IMG=I4P]

They stayed there for 6 months.

Mikey didnt want to stay in the room upstairs so he stay on gerards floor. He often sneak from the bathroom to sleep on the floor next to Gerard. Some friends of theirs ask who had one of the rooms which was where Mikey was suppose to stay in and Gerard looked at Mikey in a joke kinda way but Mikey didn't want to say it. Frank stayed in a room away from the other rooms, Rumor said that the actor of friends ran out the room screaming. Plus a singer made a song with a ghost. Frank said the room was fine but he heard stuff that he thought was a raccoon and he said if it's actually a ghost she has a bad voice. Water would often suddenly start in bobs room. While they often hear door slamming and saw a few ghost around. Gerard was going crazy he was writing words on the wall. Ray was playing a random song that Gerard was mad at him for not playing a song for MCR. Ray played the song really fast since he was very stressed. Mikey left the house to see a therapist he was seeking help for his mental health. But he would come to the mansion to record songs. All the band had a problem with depression,anxiety,self doubt,and stress trama. The band often hear door slams and Mikey said he saw a few ghosts. Bob said in a interviews for the alternative press book that the band often had family breakfast. They played music in the ball room. Bob said we have a support room we would put up notes if we have a problem and we would talk about it. One day Bob went to rays room and he saw Ray brushing his teeth he was shaking. He asked him what happened and Ray said he saw a old lady ghost walking down the stairs.

Gerard gotten ideas he showed his idea to the band and they use it they recorded songs. One day they were trying to finish the last song. The band went to get coffee. Gerard was left alone thinking of ideas when they band returned Gerard created the song. They were inspired by his words. The band quickly left the mansion they were tired of it. They gotten a apartment that they stayed in for a while. The black parade album was made. Soon they started to tour. They first open up for muse in their concert in the U.K they were the first American band to play in that arena then they brought muse to tour with them in america.

They made a music video for famous last words but frank knocked Gerard which tore the muscle of his foot that he had to use a cane. There is fire in the video that Bob burned his leg he got a 2nd degree burn and the burn infected his face area that it enter his blood and he went to the hospital it almost went to his brain thankfully they saved him.

One day the band were in virgina with muse. Frank didn't go out for dinner since he is vegetarian and Gerard slept over that day (hmm it seems like something else huh)

Ray,bob,and mikey had dinner with muse matt,chris,and dom. They gotten food poison by the restaurant that both bands were sick for many days.

When they went to the U.K they gotten hate by the British people since the news said that MCR is a cult leader because one MCR girl ended her life. They treated MCR badly but they didn't care they won over them.

Frank often was sick on tour.

Then project revelation (Gerard broken up with his girlfriend) they toured with mindless self indigent,linkin park,blink 182,and the killers. (The most gay era for Frank and Gerard)

Gerard falling love with lynz. He broken up with Frank. A month later he married her. The frerard fight happened.

(Rumor said that Ray saw Frank sobbing in the bathroom)

Frank broken his toes that he had a cane.

Break:

Frank married jamia.

Ray married his girlfriend.

Frank created leather mouth.

While Gerard was making his comic books since revenge. The Umbrella academy comic book gotten awards. And Gerard was working on doom patrol while making more umbrella academy books. Ray had a kidney failure.

Frank had to remove his wisdom teeth since it infected his mouth that it made his mouth and nose bleed. He also had stomach pains that he would take pills for it.

[B]Danger days era:

The band had children (gerard,frank,and ray)

The band thought they were running out of ideas. They made a song for a movie then they try to make conventional weapons but they gave up on it they scrap it and they then made the danger days album. Basic off Gerard ways comic book series danger days the true lives of the fabulous killjoys. The band became superheroes. Once they finished danger days they kicked Bob out over drama something to do with mikey cheating on his wife with another girl that Bob bullied him. Gerard kicked him out of the band. They gotten Michael who they made him the new drummer.

The band went on tour around the world.

Soon they finished touring they kicked out Michael for stealing in the band he was stealing band stuff.

Gerard decided to break up the band suddenly he didn't tell Frank

Frank didn't know about the break up so he was confused. Mikey divoide his wife.

[B]MCR broken up.

[B]During the break:

Frank created death spells in 2012 before the break up happened. Below I posted during the break wiki and Frank's band history wiki.

Frank created another band called Frank iero and the celebration.

Mikey was very depressed he taken drugs and he overdose in them that he was in a coma for many weeks. This also made Gerard depressed.

Gerard made solo music he created a album and was touring around places. He became a vegetarian.

Ray toro made solo music he created his own album.

Mikey joined a band called electric century.

Bob became a real estate agent also a plane flyer.

In 2017 Frank created another band called Frank iero and the patience.

Gerard worked more on his comic books.

Mikey married his girlfriend.

Ray was unknown in this era.

Frank was touring around the world. he went to Australia his band were in the car of the parking lot in the airport when a bus ran the car over it pulled Frank a few miles away from the car the band went to the hospital. Frank broken his arm while everyone else broken their legs and arm. Frank can't play the same again so he can't jump around stage and play guitar for a long time if not his arm will hurt he did not have surgery. Gerard,Ray, and Mikey went to Frank's show. Once a year mcr would bring their wife and kids and have a barbeque together to talk about plans.

In 2018

Gerard was working on the umbrella academy tv show and his other umbrella academy book. Plus more doom patrol stuff.

Mikey was making his own comic books also his wife had 2 kids by this time.

2019:

Frank created a new band Frank iero and the future violents his album barriers came out may 2019. Gerard release the umbrella academy tv show plus his other umbrella academy books.

Mikey release more comic books for collapser.

Ray collab with Gerard with 2 songs for the umbrella academy. They are cover songs.

On Oct 31 2019,

Frank's birthday was happening and fans said happy birthday to him. Frank then said it's raining outside today I can't do nothing today so we have to do something else. Then Frank tease a image he was the first one to say mcr returned then the other band members did it too. So MCR reunion happened MCR is back on Halloween

On Dec 20 2019,

It was the first MCR show since the break up in California 2019.

Now in 2020 MCR are touring now but due to the virus the band has to move some dates.

More dates will be added.

Gerard Way is working on season 2 of the umbrella academy tv show.

That's all of mcr history hopefully you readed all of this. Hopefully you enjoyed this. I will update this page if anything new happens. Check out the other wiki. If I forgotten anything I will add it here.

Here is info you can find for some of these.

[IMG=E5W]

[IMG=8BA]

[IMG=YCT]

[IMG=HRP]

[IMG=LAW]

[IMG=U2O]

[IMG=FJO]

There is another video I can't find but I saw it ages ago.

The other details I got them from the book in the first photo which you can get in the alt press website it's cheap but they got stuff in there about the band.

Please check out the wiki below they are part of mcr history too.

Thanks for having the patience to read this wiki.

Please share it.

I will add pictures later to this wiki. This took me hours to make this.

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

In a mood and I’m trying not to be, but oof. Not easy at the moment. Real life stresses are kicking my butt and I’m decidedly limited in resources for addressing that at the moment, so might as well get this off my chest, lol. Already lost the usual fifty followers or so I lose every single time I post about stuff the way I did the other day, so what’s some more, y’know?

So earlier today I tried to get my mind off things with some fic, and happened across one I hadn’t read before that promised Jason and Dick talking things out and bonding. Halfway through I sighed and went oh, this is familiar, and skipped to the bottom to check the end notes and comments to see if there was any mention of this next part, but nope. The reason for the sigh was it took me about halfway into the fic to realize that it was blatantly inspired by my post about what if Jason was missing some memories from his death/resurrection and the Pit, like specifically the ski trip they took, stuff like that. Now I’m not so egotistical as to think nobody but me has certain ideas, but its fairly easy for me to recognize when someone is basing something off a post of mine because of specific turns of phrases that I use and like, they hit ten or so bullet points from my post without missing a one. Like, there’s parallel evolution and similar ideas, and then there’s going down a check list, y’know?

And don’t get me wrong....I don’t mind people basing stuff of my posts, being inspired by them, etc. I WANT that. I’m GLAD to have that happen.

The part I mind is the way this all ties back into my interaction with fandom as a whole....and this fandom’s interaction with me. Which I don’t tend to hear NEARLY as much about as I tend to have people giving me shit about my impact on fandom....but ONLY the negative impact.

In the four years or so that I’ve been active in this fandom, I can think of only three people who have given me some kinda shout out for being the basis of one of their fics. Three people. And in that time I’ve come across literal dozens of fics that I am almost certain can trace their way back to popular posts of mine. There’s the post about Jason’s memories and the ski trip for one - this fic isn’t an isolated occurrence, I’ve found a good half a dozen or so I feel fall into the same pattern. There’s fics based off my posts about how fucked up the blame Dick got for Spyral was, with my certainty based on the fact that I know I’m the only fucking person who ever brought up various key phrases like “Bruce not having an extraction plan for Dick’s highly dangerous undercover op, leaving him stranded when Bruce got/(chose) amnesia.” I made a big deal about that in a few posts because of the fact I NEVER saw that particular element raised in any fics, and a couple months after I started including that bit regularly, I was seeing the words ‘without an extraction plan’ in every other new post Spyral fic. That’s not a coincidence.

There’s been stuff that included bits and phrasings from my post about Dick and Jason being partners who focused on helping kids who had been abused specifically....oh wait, no, my bad. The two fics I’m thinking of there lifted straight up entire lines from that post but just made it about Jason and TIM doing that instead, despite like.....the entire basis of that headcanon stemming from Dick’s juvie origin but whatever. There’s been stuff based on juvie posts of mine, stuff based on posts I’ve made about Mirage, there’s been stuff based on the post about Jason looking into why Dick was undercover as a mob enforcer and then Renegade, there’s been stuff clearly inspired by my headcanons about Jason calling Dick for advice after the Garzonas case. I could go on. There’s a fucking LOT.

I don’t try to give myself too much credit but I’m not unaware of being a loud voice in this fandom and that having an impact. And like I said, I’m not adverse to inspiring people to make their own stuff based off an idea they initially saw me present. That’s fine. People should feel free to do that. My problem is that none of this exists in a vacuum. It exists in a fandom where I regularly get people lecturing me on my presentation, people hyping up how negative I make fandom, my condescension, my anger, my hostility, etc, etc.

But the thing I never see is any awareness whatsoever that like....dudes, I’m literally just a guy on the internet. And that goes two ways. Yeah, I have an impact on people, but they have one on me too. And I’m tired and frustrated by it being acted like this is a one way street and everyone is just helpless victims of my bullying, while meanwhile SOME OF THE EXACT SAME PEOPLE GIVING ME CRAP FOR MY NEGATIVITY are ACTIVELY adding to their own fics with stuff that I JUST posted about.

And like, I see people vagueblogging about the negativity on their dashes and its impact on fandom right after I have a Dick Grayson rant blow up and get a few hundred notes......but its acted like I DID that to fandom, that’s my negativity and mine alone when its like....y’know, if you’re not following me yourself, and this stuff is still on your dash, you uh....have to be following people who reblog my negative posts for some reason or another. And given that there are obviously reasons you follow THOSE people, maybe instead of worrying about what I’M doing all the time, you can spare a thought or two for the fact that I don’t have any power to make people reblog anything, and for whatever reason, something about my oh so negative post resonated with those people reblogging it onto your dash, which also kinda suggests it wasn’t negative in THEIR eyes, but was actually a kind of validation of thoughts or feelings they already had?

Trust me, there’s no mind control ray at work here. This mood is also brought to you by the cricket sounds that come every time I fucking BEG people to reblog and signal boost posts I make about rape/abuse fandom trends and depictions from my POV as a survivor, specifically. Like I mentioned, I LOSE followers every time I bring that stuff up. It doesn’t benefit me in any way whatsoever, in fact my notes tend to go comparatively radio silent for a good couple weeks after I go off on one of those jaunts, because idk, people don’t want THEIR mutuals and followers to think they agree with some of my oh so controversial stances?

Actually, I say idk, but I do know is the thing, because people actually go on anon and tell me they appreciate me posting stuff like this, and its like.....that....doesn’t actually make me feel good? Because I never expect any single person in particular to reblog me, but when I say crickets after I post on those topics, I mean CRICKETS. I’m lucky if I can get five reblogs on those posts in total, and those are usually all from the same people. It actually kinda sucks knowing that people agree with me and what I have to say there, but they won’t put it on their own blogs because this fandom is so fucking STEEPED in its views, they don’t want to risk their friendships or back-and-forths with certain popular fandom authors by rocking the boat.

Because meanwhile I’m making myself target practice for the people who really would like me to shut up on certain topics but are too cowardly to ever confront me directly about why they dislike what I have to say there, in the vain hope that other people might finally even just START to pass some of that on even for consideration....because I can make waves by myself just by being loud and consistent, but I can’t do shit to actually make CHANGE without other people agreeing in PUBLIC so that fandom is forced to confront the fact that no, certain opinions aren’t just one loud asshole being annoying, there’s an actual viewpoint here that people actually have in greater numbers than we realized and we DON’T have as much of a monopoly on this topic as we thought.

I have anons who give me shit accusing me of driving off certain authors by making this fandom not fun for them anymore, when like, I never even fucking INTERACTED with the authors in question. Some of the names I’m accused of driving off I don’t even KNOW. I’m called an ‘abusive survivor shaming cunt’ with zero irony or self-awareness that they’re literally doing the exact same thing because they don’t like the stance *I* take as a survivor posting about how ‘some survivors use dark fic/rape fantasy to cope’ shouldn’t be treated as a monolithic defense of such things if it leads directly into the same kind of survivor shaming other people view criticism of such fic as being in the first place.

I’ve had to unfollow mutuals because I post about how reblogging posts about purity culture is a direct fucking slap into the face to people like me whose stances on fandom culture are directly based on our own personal experiences and the intersection those have with various popular fandom takes.....like you don’t have to agree with all my takes obviously, but if you can’t see how framing a naive pursuit of ideological purity as the only possible reason people object to certain fandom trends when I’m literally standing right here saying no actually, the way these fandom trends impact me is the reason for me saying the things I say when I say “here’s how this fandom trend impacts me”.....like.....c’mon.

And I’ve had mutuals unfollow me because despite following me because they liked my takes on social justice issues THEY care about, I just ‘post too much about what’s really just a personal issue’ and has no larger social relevance whatsoever, obviously. LOL. (Oh and this of course has nothing to do with them getting friendly with various popular authors on discord, who happen to be vocal about ‘disapproving’ of any fic criticism whatsoever. Just FYI, there’s a reason I haven’t followed anyone new or made any new mutuals in like....a year. I have my reasons for being....not quick about that).

I get condescended to constantly about not minding the tags, and then radio silence when I list literal examples of ways in which people haven’t tagged things correctly, tagged things at all, or literally used the tags in an attempt TO trigger people they just don’t like.

And meanwhile, allllllll of this keeps happening while the general narrative is I’m this loud asshole guy with zero concern about anything but his own personal likes or dislikes and who makes fandom a negative place that’s unwelcoming in general. And with basically zero mention of all the ways in which I’ve contributed to this fandom, the amount of content I’ve made that has DIRECTLY inspired people, and the productive conversations I’ve started which have resulted in people actually changing the way they approach various characters or dynamics in fics.

Its THAT part that bugs me, specifically.

Look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again now.....I’m not anyone’s victim. Negative fandom interactions are negative fandom interactions. All this complaining I’m doing here - lol, that’s all it is. I’m venting. I’m pissed off and I think its relevant to a greater fandom dynamic or tendencies a lot of people unknowingly or consciously reinforce, and so I’m just fucking SAYING it because while its not something I EXPECT this post will do much to change, if at all, I would still like it to change so any effort towards that end is still better than no effort at all...hence, my posting this rather than bottling it up so at least people have it to consider.

If you don’t agree with it, if you don’t like that it exists at all, if it ruins your day to have to consider whether or not you or people you know or even like are active participants in what someone else is describing as y’know....fairly day-ruining in its own way? Hit that unfollow, that block, that make new text post button of your own and have your own rant about what a douchebag I am.

Literally all I’m trying to express is like.....fa*ndom’s got a lot to say about the stuff I have to say about fandom, but like....this is a two way interaction. A lot of people make a big deal about MY impact (again, JUST the negative though, lol) but I don’t ever see anyone ever addressing anyone else about hey maybe you could spare a thought or two about YOUR impact for a change as well.

I mean, what if....just maybe...what if.....a lot of my behavior or attitude has a lot to do with how people approach or talk about me BEFORE that display of attitude or certain behavior? Weirdly....I feel like maybe something that could then have a transformative effect on the kind of behavior or attitude people dislike from me....is.....them acknowledging or addressing things they might have done to prompt certain responses from me?

I don’t actually like being whiny or negative or down in general, just to be clear? If I see something I have a problem with or think could use change or improvement, I say so - but I pretty much always put an effort into expressing both WHY and HOW I think possible change could look - because I’m not generally interested in being negative for the sake of just being negative. I just....want things to be better. That’s not an obsession with purity or perfection, btw, I will NEVER understand how people think that survivors of rape and abuse (which include a lot more ‘antis’ than anyone else seems to want to acknowledge) and the like EVER expects perfection or thinks that the world will ever produce that - lol no I’m actually pretty clear that things being perfect is pointless, I’m just interested in BETTER.

But I mean, I like being goofy and silly and also analytical and contemplative and also creative and spontaneous. I like lots of things. I like lots of moods. I like producing, creating, generating, interacting, engaging, I like a million things more than I like THIS kind of mood, THIS kind of post.

But I’m just not someone who is content to sit and stew in that sort of thing when I know full well that the problem does not actually stem from something broken or flawed inside of me, because I’m also someone who does believe very strongly in periodic bouts of self-reflection and honest self-assessment.....so that I can change things about myself when and where I feel necessary. But this also has the effect of me also being VERY aware of when the problem is not internal, but actually just me having a perfectly valid reaction or emotional response to outside stimulus. Aka fandom’s interaction with me, every bit as much as my interaction with fandom.

So....posts like this. I’ll do my usual rituals, get myself back onto my preferred trains of thought soon enough on my own, because ultimately that is all I can control and just because I make posts like this doesn’t mean I ever EXPECT any specific result - or a result at all - to come from it.

But, y’know, sue me for being hopeful.

I know. What an ass am I?

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