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#like should I get on killer and do the same? lol
notthestarwar · 1 year
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are you normal or do you print out your ao3 comments and make them in to a little book so you can look at them all together when ur feeling sad
#can neither confirm nor deny if this book exists#but i will say: it sure is nice to look at when i'm having a 'what even is the point' kinda day#you know that post that talks about how you should look at ao3 interactions like you're doing a little book reading#i think about that a lot#cause yeah i write for me but if i didnt know ppl were reading stuff i probably wouldnt bother posting#and going to the effort of making it understandable to a brain other than mine if i didnt think other ppl got anything from it#but getting a comment really is like 'oh my god there really is a person out there reading this'#and when they mention they agree with a certain take. then i'm like. omg. this feels like community you know#whats that one post thats like 'people arent looking for commnents. they are looking for community'#theyre right.#its easy to get caught up in stats and be like 'oh this is barely any ppl' especially if you start comparing (thats the mind killer)#but the truth is. the comments that i do get? thats like a ginormous amount of ppl#if they were all looking at me in a coffee shop. i dont know if i'd be able to do a reading lol. i'd get stage fright#not of the stuff that ends up on ao3 anyway. it's not stuff i'd ever put somewhere non anonymously. cause its all like#showing a bit more of me than i'd show in a coffee shop you know. thats me working through stuff. but still ppl are interacting!#that feels big.#i think cause a lot of my stuff is like 'heres a irl problem made worse so its brought to the forefront and has to be addressed'#which means its all pretty depressing but in a way i find cathartic. you know. its a tragedy but their story was worth telling.#it was worth it. so when another person sees the catharisis there. it makes it seem possible.#its not just wishful thinking. working through that issue would be hard and painful. but it would be worth it all the same. that guy agrees
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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 year
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Ooo hiya!! (I ranted a lot lol)🥰🍊💜
Can I please request a Tangerine x fem!civilian/innocent!reader where she was on the Bullet Train. She was walking to her seat, and when Kimura ran into the snack cart, he also ran into her, causing her to trip, falling onto Tangerine’s lap and him catching her (oh he would have a field day lol). Y/n being like 😳 as she realizes she’s been sitting on his lap for a good 10 seconds staring at him with wide eyes, her hands on his chest (once again, he’d have a field day lol, soo much flirting would ensue, he’d enjoy how flustered she’d get). Her stuttering, apologizing, and jumping up out of his arms and scurrying to her seat, which happens to be right across from Tan and Lemon’s.😂 He then spends the whole time on that train protecting (and flirting with) Y/n and when Lemon, Tangerine, and Y/n escape the train (Tan carrying a very scared Y/n), Y/n doesn’t want to leave Tan + they bring her to their safe house with them🥺
I love this.
Flustered
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This was the last situation that tangerine had been worried about while on any mission.
You had been walking, and a nice lady with a snack cart was behind you. But suddenly, you didn’t hear or see a man behind you. He pushed you aside.
“Oi! Watch where you’re goin’.” Another man said. Except the voice was much closer. You didn’t even realize you were in his lap until you looked and opened your eyes.
“S- sorry.” The other man apologized and quickly walked away.
“You alright, love?” The man asked, he had a hand on your back and tried to help you get up. You stared at his eyes, trying to find words.
“I- uh- I- yeah! I’m fine. Thanks uh, for catching me. Sorry, for the…” You laughed nervously after a little and quickly stood up.you looked around and sat back down at your seat. Which was right across from him and some other guy.
He smiled. He noticed that you seemed flustered, and decided to use it to his advantage.
“It’s quite alright, no worries, darling. I would say it’s more lucky to have a pretty girl fall into your lap, wouldn’t you think?”
Pretty? You thought. And Lemon scoffed at him.
“I- well- uh- thanks. Your also pretty.” You mentally winced as the words came out your mouth.
“You seriously trying to pick up a girl while on a job?” Lemon asked him quietly, quiet enough that you didn’t hear. You looked out the window and had your headphones in.
“I’m not. They just happen to fall in my lap.” He glanced at you.
“Wow, that was surprisingly clever.” Lemon rolled his eyes, And tangerine just sent him a scowl.
“Just sayin’, mate.” He laughed at his anger.
“Whatever. Can we get back on task?”
“Sure, sure, sure.”
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
After some talking between you and tangerine, he learned your name and you learned his. Yoh even learned that the guy next to him was his brother, Lemon. You both said your stops were Kyoto station.
Some man pointed a gun at Lemon, and another man sat next the both of them. That man died, and you were left confused and scared.
You decided to sleep it off, and getting off at the next station. Maybe you were dreaming, and you would wake up when you went to sleep in the dream.
(Let’s just say in this that Lemon, Ladybug, and Tangerine left early like Ladybug suggested)
“Hey. Wake up.” Someone shook you, and you looked confused, until you saw tangerine.
“Tangerine?” You muttered.
“Yeah, uh, we should get off. Like right now.”
“We’re there already?”
“Uh… yeah. So, c’mon, hurry.” He grabbed your hand and tan quickly, and the doors started to close but you guys luckily beat it.
“That was a close one, mate.” Lemon said.
“Aren’t you the same guy that pulled a gun on him?” You mumbled, and pointed to ladybug.
“Oh. Yeah. But we’re all good now.”
“So now what the fuck do we do?” You asked.
“I have a safehouse nearby.” Ladybug said.
“I’m sorry, who are you again?” You asked.
“I’m.. ladybug.”
“What’s with all the weird names? Lemon, tangerine and ladybug?”
“We’re contract killers. They’re just nicknames.” Lemon said plainly.
“What..? Seriously?”
“Not me. I just usually do snatch and grabs, Y’Know, steal things, but I’m covering someone.” Ladybug said.
“Why’d you take me out the train early?” You asked Tangerine as all of you walked to the house.
“Cause the rest of the train is full of murderous bastards that are all about to die. You seemed like the only trustworthy person on there.”
“Nah, he just wants to take you on a date.” Lemon said, laughing as his brother hit him in the arm.
“That too, I guess.” Tangerine said.
“Okay, so let me get this straight, first I somehow run into you because some guy ran into me and I fell in your lap, Ladybug pointed a gun at your brother and it’s all good now, some guy was dead next to you, you all are contract killers, and the train was full of murderers?”
“Yeah. Basically.”
“And now you wanna take me on a date.”
“Yeah.”
“Weird.. but Sure, why not.” You shrugged.
Sure, maybe you were going out with somewhat of a stranger, but it was a cute stranger, and he just saved you. You were glad you fell into his lap.
(I don’t like this that much but hopefully it’s not terrible)
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puranami · 6 months
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✿ It's The Little Things - 3 ✿
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A/N: @leafyturtle come get y'all Franky and Robin fluff! I'm excited for this one, lotsa faves in here >:3c
Summary: Little relationship things with (currently) anime/manga exclusives ✿
Characters: Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer
Content: SFW, G/N reader, language in Kid's (bc it's Kid lol) bottomless fluff ✿
(Part 1 - Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji) (Part 2 - Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk) (Part 4 - Crocodile, Rosinante, Doflamingo)
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Franky
✿ Multiply his self-aggrandizing by 100, and that's how he sees you; he is your personal hype man! Every single insecurity, no matter how big or small, will be kissed away, because you are perfect, and you should definitely tell people as such. Wait, you're too shy and don't want to? No worries, Franky's got you, and he'll tell everyone himself. Loudly. No, he won't stop or tone it down; "The world needs to know how super you are!" He loves when you hype him up in turn, and uses it to show you how great self confidence is; and it will rub off on you. He's so proud when you declare how amazing you are, even if it's just to him! "AOW! That's right, babe, you are amazing!" He'll pick you up in those huge, strong arms of his, practically crushing you in a bear hug.
✿ Franky loves to make you any and all gadgets he thinks you'd like, or need. Just as he is constantly upgrading his body, he develops and re-develops things that make your life easier, or that bit cooler! While he likes to surprise you with them, seeing how your eyes light up in wonder as he shows you how it works, he loves it even more when you're involved in the building process; brainstorming ideas, designing, picking out the colour palette, he'll even let you use a blowtorch, just, please be careful, wait what was that twinkle of mischief in your eyes? Okay, no more blowtorch - leave it to the pro! It would kill him if you got hurt on his watch, he's meant to protect you!
✿ He's made up a comfy little alcove in his workshop so you can keep him company while he's working. Soft cushions, blankets, lights so can work on your own hobbies, it's perfect! Even when you were just friends, you were always welcome there, and it's become your little safe space. It's comfy enough to fall asleep there when Franky works late, and he even modified it so that there is room for him to sleep there too. While hanging out, you'll talk about everything, and nothing, what you're both working on, or you'll simply listen to music and enjoy each others presence, and that often leads to loud singing, especially on Franky's part. He'll share his cola with you too, you just bring the snacks - can't work on an empty stomach after all!
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Robin
✿ Robin is very calm and reserved, especially compared to the rest of the crew, so her way of showing affection follows the same pattern. She'll put a gentle hand on your arm, and touch your foreheads together, but her favourite thing to do is to grow an arm out of your own, reaching down to hold your hand, all while on the other side of the room, smiling to herself. If your eyes are sharp, you'll catch the delicate blush on her cheeks when you bring your arm up to kiss her hand, or gently hold it to your cheek. She'll also make a pair of arms to wrap around your waist, or shoulders if you're sat down. She'll hold you personally too, but that is saved for your private quarters or the library.
✿ Part of her flirting is making dark comments and jokes; "I know the best way to your heart, dear." - "Through my stomach?" - "Oh no, that's not very efficient! It's anywhere between the 2nd and 4th ribs." She'll say it with such a loving gaze and gentle smile, and if you didn't know Robin better, you'd be worried she was plotting your murder, but that's just how she is, and you love her for it. She will also tell you all the gruesome details she finds in her books and research. Part of you suspects that she's purposefully trying to spook you so she can comfort you, but really she just finds these thing fascinating. Robin will be ecstatic if you can match her gallows humour, or if you have morbid facts of your own you can share with her.
✿ She takes great comfort in the fact that you love her unconditionally, and that you have always accepted her as she is, morbid interests, and former associations included, and she makes sure that you know she loves you all the same, no matter your quirks, flaws, and mistakes, for that is the beauty of love! You are each others port in the unrelenting storm of life.
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Law
✿ Law is so used to losing the people he loves most, so for him to open up, it will take a lot of time, patience, and understanding. You can't push him on things, and will have to wait for him to come to you - he needs to feel like he has some control over the situation so he can make better judgement calls, and do something if it all goes wrong. It's nothing personal, he just doesn't want to helplessly watch his world fall apart again; he's older, smarter, and much stronger now, he will keep those he cares about safe. Once he's at that point where he feels like he's ready to be open and honest, he is completely dedicated and doggedly loyal, though he isn't very expressive with it.
✿ He shows his love through acts of service; making sure you are eating and sleeping well, tending any injuries you get in day to day life, moving you if you've fallen asleep in a weird place or position so you don't get any aches and pains, or catch a cold. Law hopes that you can feel the love he has for you in each action. He just wants to know you are healthy and well so he doesn't need to worry about you. Well, he says that, but he still worries, he can't help it. You'll need to use his own tactics against him to make sure he actually sleeps and eats instead of just working. It won't always work, sometimes he's working on things that are far too important, but he will relent otherwise.
✿ PDA is not a thing for him. At all. It's almost like he doesn't want to jinx things with the world seeing he has entrusted his heart with another again. On the Polar Tang, when it's just you and the crew, he'll be a little more open, placing a hand on your head or shoulder, matching your pace as he walks beside you, slightly gentler eyes, and the hint of a smile; so subtle, yet the crew sees right through him, and they like to tease you both. Nothing serious, but it still gets them the worst chores in response. In private, when you are alone is the only time will he allow himself to be vulnerable.
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Kid
✿ Given how intense and aggressive he is, you have the patience of a goddamn saint, and guts to back you up. He refuses to lessen himself for anyone; he is who he is, and you can either accept it and embrace him fully, or you can, in his words, "Fuck right off!" It will take a lot to break through the immense barriers he has - he will shout, argue, insult, and to get through, you have to be able to withstand that without crumbling. Shout back! Show him you're not gonna let anyone walk all over you, not even him, earn his respect, then you can build up from there. Once you've wormed your way into that exclusive club of 'We aren't Killer, but Kid still cares about us," he will be ride or die with you, and when he realises he genuinely likes you, or hell, even loves you, he would burn down the world for you if you asked him to.
✿ Out in public, you get no special treatment. It's just safer that way. He can't afford to be looking over his shoulder every other minute to make sure no one is trying to get to him through you. He'll still keep an eye on you of course, but it's indistinguishable from him watching over the rest of the crew. On the Victoria Punk he will be possessive, but not affectionate. Kid will keep you by his side, or drag you onto his lap, just generally manhandling you really, there will be no mistaking who you belong to. Once you're alone he will actually soften up; he knows he's a lot, and he cares deep down, but he's still in charge, he is your captain after all. You should take advantage of this time to get all the affection out of him that you can!
✿ You're one of the few that are actually allowed to hang in his workshop, as long as you don't bother him. He'll entertain some conversation if he's just setting up, or having a break, but once he's in the zone, zip it. He's fine with you watching him work - he's good at what he does and he knows it, but seeing the admiration in your eyes is a nice ego boost. He'll make you things if the mood hits him, particularly bits of jewellery, as it makes it easier to manhandle you from the other side of the room. He's a busy man, he doesn't want to wait for you to look his way and walk over, he wants your attention now!
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Killer
✿ Like Kid, Killer has a tendency to manhandle, but it's not nearly as aggressive; he's a big guy with big, strong muscles, and he just enjoys hauling you around like a sack of potatoes. It gives him the opportunity to hold you close, 'accidentally' touch your butt, and your laughter through it all is just so sweet. He greatly enjoys your presence when he's going about his day, and deeply appreciates any assistance you can offer, such as in the kitchen, and certainly when trying to manage his idiot best friend and crew, as he's essentially the de facto caretaker on board. Often you'll end up sat on his shoulders, acting as an extra pair of eyes and hands - no shenanigans go unnoticed!
✿ You have become an expert at reading Killer's moods and expressions through his mask, every slight shift of his body, and the angle of his head has a very specific meaning. It doesn't help that he's a quiet man in general; balancing Kid's incessant ranting and raving with his well thought out, straight to the point statements. He much prefers to listen to you talk, only talking when he has something to add to the mostly one-sided conversation. He loves having these 'chats' with you sat in his lap, head resting against his broad chest. Sometimes his goatee will tickle the top of your head, and he lives for those giggles.
✿ It will take a long time for him to feel comfortable enough to remove his mask, and you can bet he refuses to laugh around you for the longest time. Just be patient with him, and let him do things when he's ready, and don't make a big deal out of it if something slips; he'll be pretty mortified, so just giving him a loving smile and a gentle touch will reassure him that maybe the things he's insecure about, or straight up hates, aren't as big an issue as he believes them to be. Telling him he is perfect is appreciated, but not effective in building him up, since nothing is perfect really, but seeing you love him unconditionally certainly will give him a boost.
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cryptomiracle · 1 month
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more creepypasta headcanons
(+ marble hornets)
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WARNINGS:
Ooc? Idk
I started this at 2 am and you can tell
Cursing
I write on my phone so the format may be a little weird
Any brands, games, or characters mentioned in this do NOT belong to me, nor am I sponsored by them in any way.
This is very unserious, I've noticed that a lot of my other hcs usually take a "dark" turn and so I decided to make some that didn't.
You could even say they're a bit... silly.
You should totally check out my masterlist for more hcs (it's pinned)
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Characters: masky, hoodie, ticci toby, jeff the killer, and BEN DROWNED.
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Jeff:
he's extremely hard headed, he WILL argue/fight with someone over the dumbest things and he'll never stop arguing, even if he knows the other person is right.
He has an "emo accent"
He likes to start drama between people, and then leave the crime scene.
He is so ashy you could strike a match off of his elbow
He's been wearing the same beat up converse since 2012, them things are being held together by duct tape and a prayer.
His favorite animal is a raccoon, he says they're sneaky and nocturnal like him.
He refuses to get a new phone, he won't even steal one.
He curses all the time just cause he can, sometimes he'll even jumble random curse words together.
BEN:
He listens to vocaloid and he doesn't play about miku
He runs one of those "rage bait" accounts that are painfully obviously bait
Still quotes old memes and refuses to let them die
Example: yeet, t-posing, and "sanic the hedgehog"
He scams old people on Facebook and e-daters, he doesn't feel bad about it either.
He uses the money he gets from scamming to buy v-bucks and overwatch coins
He once doxxed someone for dissing miku
slender had to take away his mic privileges because he was keeping everyone up at night by yelling bloody murder at people on fortnite/overwatch
once showed up at someones house because they emoted on him after killing him in game
Toby:
He vapes, and thinks he's so cool cause he can do "vape tricks" and he makes people watch him while he does them
Someone once gave him apple cider, told him it was alcohol, and he pretended to be drunk.
His phone gallery is filled with random photos, like there'll be a low quality picture of a tree and then right beside it a picture of a ceiling. Just random stuff
Mint chocolate chip ice cream enjoyer
He's really flexible, although he has bad posture he can do back bends, the splits, etc
more on his terrible posture; when he sits he literally looks like this: ) )
When he first started working for slenderman, he REFUSED to live in the manor and lived outside. While he lived outside he became friends with a lot of the wildlife, slender eventually made him move into the manor because there was a rumor that toby was going to make a "possum army" and try to overthrow slender
He will fight anyone and anything he really doesn't care about his, or their well-being.
Had a "weeb" phase when he was in middle school and he still has nightmares about "naruto running" away from his bullies.
Hoodie:
He can make a killer sandwich (lol) he's not the best at cooking other things, but if you get him to make you a sandwich, he'll bless your taste buds.
He loves karaoke, he can't sing for shit but he still does it anyway
He acts like a millennial (I'm sorry) not to the point where it's completely unbearable, but he will send people "relatable memes" every now and then
He enjoys online arguments, he'll never participate but he will scroll through different threads of people arguing for hours on end
He likes for people to say stuff like "GO WHITE BOY GO" to him
He blushes when he lies, he's a scarily good liar but if you ever want to catch him in a lie, point out the fact that his cheeks are red.
Whenever he has a drink with a straw, he holds the straw in-between his tooth gap.
he sends streaks.
Masky:
He has a NASTYYY side eye, and sometimes he'll scrunch up his nose while side eyeing someone just to make it sting even more
Contemplated getting a mullet once, he never went through with it though.
He coughs like someone's grandfather who smoked three packs of cigarettes a day for 40 years
If someone says a word that reminds him lf a song he likes, it'll automatically get stuck in his head and he'll hum it all day after that.
he isn't weak when it comes to stinky smells, but if it's stinky enough to make him gag he's extremely overdramatic.
he learned how to sew because of how much he ripped his jeans, shirts, etc.
Sleeps so hard sometimes people think he's dead, he'll just be laying there looking casket ready but everyone is too scared to check on him cause he gets super grumpy when woken up.
he always keeps a little money hidden somewhere, even if it's just a 5 dollar bill.
he's superstitious, if he sees you attempt to walk under a ladder he will physically drag you back and make you walk around it.
he has a pair of brass knuckles which he only saves for "special occasions" they're his favorite things ever, he even named them.
he only uses his phone to call, text, or search something up, and that's it.
he doesn't even have YouTube installed.
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I will be reading over this to check for any errors, ty for reading - M
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theangelcatalogue · 22 days
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WHAT'S WRONG? || YANDERE FRANCIS X READER! || ★!
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★ - Romantic or Platonic(?)!
★ - Gender Neutral reader!
★ - One shot!
★ - Before we start: Idk why i did this, but i saw fics of him, and people going crazy over him, so why not?? I don't even write for that's not my neighbour, but i love the game! So let' go! Also sorry if is confusing! My mind is kinda tired and idk why i wrote this at 1AM(Is i wrote this at 1AM, remade some parts and posted it at 2AM) (Pls check Tw before reading it! <3)
★ - TW: YANDERE, DOPPELGANGER, BLOOD, BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR AND MADE BY A MINOR!!! PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING!!!
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   ˚๑ ✦ Y/N!!! ✦ ๑°
・・・ ★ ・・・
︶ ꒷ ︶ ꒷ ꒦
Just a normal day in work!
This work is not that bad, i mean, i have to focus in every single neighbor, check some papers and be careful because some of than can be actually doppelgangers that will kill me and the persons that live here? Yeah-
But is guess i am getting used to it! And some neighbors are really nice! And others are just weird and rude! But what i can do? People are like that!
It's kinda weird that no one is showing up now, but i can have some time to rest now! Just me, a good coffee and my jornal/book(it can be a jornal or a book!)
Now i am just reading, waiting for anyone, i mean the today's list is short today! Lucky me i guess? I get kinda focused in the reading, the content is kinda depressing and boring, but is what i have for now
" Hello Y/n. "
I heard someone saying, Oh! I can't forget this voice!
" Francis! Tired as always? Well, let's see if you are in todays list! "
I said not taking the eyes of my jornal/book, i am lucky that Francis is the one who showed up! He is kinda nice! Just a tired guy but hey! He is a hardworker!
" Sounds good for me. Here is my entry request and ID "
I could notice him giving the papers, now i notice his hand is kinda dirty and his voice is kinda off, more tired than usual...
" Oh! Thanks- "
I respond him finally taking my eyes of the book, now i can see Francis better let's say, he is covered in a red liquid with a weird smell
It is what i am thinking? Oh yeah! A doppelganger! But i never thought a doppelganger would commit a error like that, why blood...? Some are a missing eye, others just say peach and others are a long neck and etc, what if is not a doppelganger...?
" What's wrong Y/n? Something wrong about the papers? "
He says noticing that i am kinda nervous, i just pick the papers and the clickboard as usual, first thing to question?
His looks.
" Francis! What happend? You are corvered in...what is that? Can you explain? "
Francis just looks at his outifit and then back at me, the same tired look, but something about the way he looks at me is different, i can't tell what is
" Oh this? It's a new milk! Scarlett Milk! It's a Milk with Red coloring, and Yes, it's food coloring! Not used in clothes... "
" Really Francis? So tell me! How did you got corvered in...Scarlett Milk...? "
He was getting tired of me questioning i guess, okay, i have three options!
1. It's really a milk with food coloring
2. It's a doppelganger
3. Francis is a killer or just got crazy
Please let it be 1-
" Accident at work. Just that, can i go in? "
He asks me looking at me deep at the eyes, i feel like he is judging all my sins, i break the eye contact and look at the Red button and then at the phone
Should i call the police or my boss?
" Look Y/N, i am really tired, just let me in, so i can go take a shower and rest. Maybe after you are done, you can go to my room, drink some coffee together! I heard is your favorite drink, what about a coffee with milk uh? "
He says to me, i think he is getting impatient
OH REALLT Y/N L/N!? DON'T TELL ME
" I- "
" Come on darling. "
He gets closer to the window, supporting his one of his arms in the glass
" Let. Me. In "
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✦ - NOTES!!!
✮ " Sky wtf was that? " I DON'T KNOW LOL ✮
✮ The fandom go crazy about him gosh ✮
✮ Okay should i write for TNMN??? ✮
✮ Anyways have a good day my loves! <33 ✮
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austinshotbutlers · 1 year
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The Wedding Date
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!BAU!Reader
Summary: Your sister’s wedding is approaching fast and the thought of showing your boyfriend off to your family and your ex-boyfriend seems like a very appealing idea. The only problem is… you don’t have a boyfriend. Luckily your stony faced, serious, sexy boss has agreed to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?
Word count: 3.8k
TW: Mentions of sex but no actual smut, swear words, bad writing? LOL
A/N: AHHHH! My first fic on here! This is based on the 2005 film of the same title. I literally love this film and I love the idea of Hotch posing as your fake boyfriend. Would anyone be up for a part 2?
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The clock read 18:34. You should have finished 34 minutes ago. Everyone had gone home the minute the clock hit 6, the first day all week that the BAU had finished at a reasonable hour. Yet here you were, staring at the words ‘requested vacation confirmed’ which seemed to taunt you through the screen of your computer. It was all booked now, no going back. There was now no excuse for you not to go to your sister’s wedding next week. You sighed frustratedly before closing the tab and continuing with filing case reports that could definitely be saved for tomorrow but you didn’t want to go home, not just yet.
You typed aggressively at your keyboard. The thought of seeing your ex at your sister’s wedding made you more frustrated by the minute. How could she do this to you? Marry your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. Agree to your ex-boyfriend being the best man when you’re the maid of honour? Your fingers hit the keyboard harder and harder before the ringing of your phone drew you from your thoughts. You picked it up and saw it was your mom. You took a deep breath before answering.
“Hi mom,” you said in your best fake happy voice.
“Hi sweetie! Just checking that your vacation has been approved for the big day.” She said over cheerily.
“Yeah mom its all…” you hesitated. “It’s all been approved and confirmed. You can tell Sarah I’m officially ready for maid of honour duties.”
“Oh that’s perfect.” Your mom said with a hint of relief in her voice. “I thought that silly job of yours would try and deny your vacation.”
You rolled your eyes as she once again ridiculed your job. She hated the idea of you chasing serial killers and rapists and every other sick bastard out there. She much preferred the idea of you having a more traditional 9-5, like your younger sister who was oh-so-perfect. Your mom was never a fan of your interest in murder and psychology and profiling when you were in high school. She was even less of a fan when she found out you were doing criminology and psychology at college. Then, when you went on to get your job working for the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit, she expressed a dislike towards your career path choice but she did try to be interested in your work.
“Anyway, I just had some questions about your plus one.” Your mom said, getting back on track to the wedding. “Am I right in thinking you’re not bringing anyone?”
Before you could even think and stop yourself, the words came flying out of your mouth. “No mom… I’m actually bringing my boyfriend.”
‘Boyfriend?! What boyfriend?’ You frantically thought as you ran a hand through your hair.
“Oh honey, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” Your mom sounded surprised. “Shall I add him to the guest list then?”
“Yes! Well, actually I need to check he can still come and I’ll get straight back you. Bye mom!”
“Oh…ok, bye sweetie” she said before you immediately hung up.
You put the phone down onto the desk and whispered ‘oh god’ under your breath. What were you going to do? How were your going to magically find a boyfriend to take to meet your family in less than a week? You stood up abruptly and turned around to be face to face to none other than Aaron Hotchner.
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed. “How much of that did you hear?” ***
Hotch signed his last case file report for the night and looked out his office window to see you sat at your desk. That stern look of concentration on your face that he found adorable as you typed at your computer. The rest of the team had gone home nearly 40 minutes ago yet you were still here. Why were you still here?
He turned back to his desk and started filing away the forms he had been reading and signing nearly all day and then turned to his computer to check his last few emails for the day. One in particular caught his eye that read your name in bold capitals. He clicked on it curiously and skimmed the contents which highlighted that you had been granted 5 days vacation time.
‘It’s good,’ he thought to himself as he packed away his papers and shut his computer down. You never used your vacation days so he’s glad you’re actually taking a break for once. He picked up his coat and headed towards the door of his office. He opened it and flicked the light switch of his office off and began walking down the stairs into the bullpen.
“No mom. I’m actually bringing my boyfriend.” Hotch heard you say into your phone and he faltered in his steps. ‘Boyfriend?’ He questioned. You had never mentioned a boyfriend before. He watched as you ran a hand through your hair, something you only do when you’re stressed or frustrated he noticed.
“Yes! Well, actually I need to check he can still come and I’ll get straight back you. Bye mom!” You said very quickly and hung up the phone. You placed the mobile device down onto your desk and paused before standing up and beginning to get ready to go home. You began to turn around and Hotch panicked. He had no time to move before you were standing face to face.
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed. “How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough to know you’re taking your boyfriend somewhere.” He replied and you cringed. “I’m sorry,” Hotch continued. “I really didn’t mean to intrude on your phone call.”
“Hotch it’s fine. Honestly!” You said to him and you could visibly see the tension leave his body. “It’s just a shame said boyfriend doesn’t exist.” You added. Oh god, were you really about to spill your guts to your boss?
“I’m sorry?” Hotch replied with a hint of confusion in his tone. Your face visibly cringed at his confusion and Aaron felt his heart squeeze a little at how adorable it was.
“I uh… I don’t actually have a boyfriend. I’ve just said it to make everyone think I’m seeing someone without thinking about the consequences.” You said and you watched Hocth’s eyebrows raise which prompted you to go on. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. I really shouldn’t be burdening you with my inability to face my ex at my sister’s wedding.”
Now Aaron was really intrigued. “You can tell me but don’t feel like you have to. I know better than anyone that sometimes we want to keep personal matters to ourselves and away from work.”
You smiled at him, just his voice calming your nerves as you prepared to tell him everything. “So my ex is the best man at my sister’s wedding next week and I haven’t seen him in nearly two years. The day he dumped me, everyone thought he was going to propose and instead of a diamond ring, I ended up with a broken heart.” You cringed at your own words. “Sorry that was so cliché but I’m just dreading seeing him there and with his new girlfriend too. I don’t want him to see me still single, I don’t want him to see I haven’t moved on.”
Aaron listened intently to what you had to say. How could anyone dump you? You were beautiful, intelligent, funny. You were just perfect.
“My family haven’t mentioned him much, they all know it’s a fragile situation but just then, on the phone to my mom, her assuming I didn’t have a plus one just made me snap and before I could stop myself, I was telling her I was bringing a boyfriend.” You collapsed back down onto your desk chair, defeated. “And now I have to find someone to be my boyfriend.”
Aaron didn’t think, which was unusual for him, before he said “I’ll do it.”
You looked at him in shock. “What?”
He suddenly realised what he just said and hesitated before continuing to say “I’ll come to the wedding with you.”
“Hotch… no I couldn’t ask that of you.” You replied shaking your head. “You can’t leave Jack for 5 days. Also will you be able to get the time off? No I really can’t let you do this.”
“Y/N,” Aaron interrupted you. “I’m happy to help.”
You paused to think about it… it definitely would be you best option considering your predicament. But could you really spend 5 days with your boss pretending to be a couple? Your stoic, grumpy, handsome boss who you most definitely have a stupid, school girl crush on. You looked back up at him and locked your eyes with his before the word ‘Ok’ left your lips.
“Ok, lets do it. You pretend to be my boyfriend and I will spend the rest of my time at the BAU making it up to you.” You joke.
Aaron laughs lightly. “You don’t have to make up for anything. I want to help you out.”
***
You quickly unlocked the front door to your apartment and threw your bag down as you entered. You were now a woman on a mission. A mission to find the biggest wine glass in your apartment. You cracked open a new bottle of wine and poured a tall glass, drinking almost all of it in one gulp. What the hell had you just agreed to do? You grabbed your phone and texted the one person who you knew you could tell.
7: 48PM | Y/N L/N: SOS!!! Just agreed to do something truly insane.
7:49PM | Emily Prentiss: Uh-Oh this doesn’t sound good. What’s up?
7:51PM | Y/N L/N: Hotch may have heard a whole conversation with my mother and to cut a long story short, he is coming to my sister’s wedding pretending to be my boyfriend :/
You awaited Emily’s reply. What the fuck was she going to think?
7:55PM |Emily Prentiss: Sorry, I needed time to process what I just read. What the fuck? Are you actually insane?
7:56PM | Y/N L/N: Today officially confirmed my insanity. How the hell am I going to spend 5 days pretending to be in love with him?
7:58PM | Emily Prentiss: I mean it’s not going to be hard. You’ve been crushing on Hotch for like 6 months now. I’ve also had my suspicions that Hotch liked you and today definitely confirms that Hotch is so in love with you.
You couldn’t believe what Emily had just said, could Hotch really be in love with you? No, surely not.
8:01PM | Y/N L/N: Are you joking? Hotch does NOT have a crush on me. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t have silly crushes. And he said he was doing it to help me and I believe that.
8:03PM | Emily Prentiss: Ok, keep telling yourself that but when you both end up head over heels for one another, don’t get angry when I say I told you so.
You just rolled your eyes at her last text, picking up your wine glass to down the last little sip you had left. Now, you had to call your mom back to tell her the good news that your boyfriend was definitely coming to the wedding. Reluctantly dialling her number, you waited as it rung.
“Hi sweetheart, calling back to tell me your boyfriend is coming?” She asked immediately after answering.
“Yeah I am. He’s all set to come so add him down onto the guest list.” You replied. “I guess we will be seeing you next week then.”
“Don’t sound too excited.” Your mom teased. “I’m excited to meet this boyfriend now.”
“Ok, I better go mom, my…. My dinner is burning.” You lied. “I’ll see you next week, bye.”
Your mom barely had time to mutter the word ‘bye’ before you had hung up. You placed your phone down on the table and picked the bottle of win up, pouring more into your glass. You sipped at it more slowly than your first glass, absentmindedly playing with the hem of your skirt as you nursed the dark red liquid. It was going to be a long week.
***
You saw him standing at the gate as you rushed through the airport terminal to meet Aaron. He appeared to visibly relax the moment he saw you as you rushed frantically through the airport with your carry on slung over your shoulder.
“Shit! Sorry I’m so late!” You exclaimed as you finally reached him. “My alarm didn’t go off and then I lost my boarding pass. Sorry for making you check in and go through security by yourself.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re here now.” He smiled. “Here let me take your bag.” Aaron reached his arm out and took the heavy carry on from your shoulder.
“Oh you really don’t have to carry it for me.” You blushed a little, in awe of how gentlemanly he is. “Thank you though. Are you sure it’s not to heavy?”
Aaron laughed. “Trust me Y/N, it’s fine.” He looked around to the gate and saw people beginning to queue up. “Come on, we better get ready to board.”
“Thank you again for agreeing to do this.” You said to him as you joined the queue. “It’s really helped me out, I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, anything to help a friend in need.” Aaron replied. “So, anything I really need to know before we land in LA?”
“Just that my family are insane.” You joke and Aaron laughed lightly. “But my mom will definitely ask you about 50 questions as soon as she meets you so maybe lets set up our story. Where did we meet?”
“Easy, just tell them how we actually met for the first time.” Aaron said with a smile.
You blush a little remembering your first day at the BAU. “But it’s so embarrassing!”
Aaron laughs as you move up the queue and reach the desk, handing over your boarding passes and passports. The flight attendants speedily checked everything and set you on your way to board the plane. Aaron carefully placed your carry on in the overhead locker before doing the same with his own.
“My parents certainly spared no expense.” You said as you sat down, revelling in the luxury of first class. “I think my dad has paid for all of Sarah’s wedding.” You try to refrain from rolling your eyes.
“Are you looking forward to going home?” Aaron asked as he buckled his seatbelt.
“I guess I’m excited to see my family, it has been nearly two years since I last saw them. After Luke dumped me… I kinda just left everyone in radio silence.” You took a deep breath. “I guess I just needed time to…”
“Heal.” Aaron finished your sentence, a tone of understanding in his voice.
You look him straight in the eyes and see a glimmer of hurt beneath his understanding. “Yeah… I mean we were together 5 years and he just ended it. Just like that.” You sighed before looking away from Aaron. “It’s just been difficult… blah enough of me complaining.” You mentally told yourself off. Who were you to complain? And to Aaron Hotchner of all people. The man who had been through what he had. You needed to stop.
***
Aaron pushed the trolley with all your suitcases piled on through the doors of the airport as you stepped out into the air of LA. You missed spending you summers here, it did feel nice to be home.
“My mom and dad said they’d pick us up. They should be somewhere.” You said to Aaron as you tried to look around for them. Suddenly, you saw them making their way over to the two of you excitedly. “Oh sweet Jesus.” You muttered to yourself.
“Oh my goodness! You’re finally back home!” Your mom squealed as she grabbed you and pulled you into a tight hug. “It’s been too long sweetie. I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Come on now Y/M/N, let me give my daughter a hug.” Your dad said as he tried to pry you from your mother’s suffocating embrace. “How is my buddy?”
You pulled a face at the nickname your dad hadn’t used since you were 12. “Dad I’m not 12 anymore.” You laughed and hugged him back. “I’ve missed you though.”
Aaron watched in awe as your parents made a fuss of you, something he never had when he was growing up but always said he would do for his own children. And once all the excitement had calmed down, both your mom and dad turned to face him.
“Oh my Y/N, he’s very handsome.” Your mom whispered a little too loud.
“This is my boyfriend Aaron.” You smiled as you moved to stand at his side, wrapping an arm round his back as Aaron moved his arm to sit round your waist.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr and Mrs Y/L/N.” Aaron leaned forward to shake your dad’s hand but your mom slapped it away.
“There’s no need for such formalities Aaron!” She said. “It’s lovely to meet you! Although, I didn’t know you existed.” And she yanked Aaron in for one of her suffocating hugs.
“Mom you’re going to scare him away!” You said frustratedly and she let aaron go, letting him come and stand back by your side.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, you all headed to the car. Aaron helped your dad pile all the suitcases in the trunk before he came and joined you in the back of the car, taking your hand in his. The drive was wonderful, being able to take in all the things you missed about LA while living in Washington.
“So Aaron, what do you do?” Your dad asked as he drove.
“I work at the BAU with Y/N. I’m the Unit Chief.” He replied, your hand still held tightly in his.
“Does that mean you’re her boss?” Your mom interjected.
“I am the leader of the BAU team but there are more people above me such as our Section Chief. But technically yes, I suppose I am Y/N’s boss.”
“Trust me though when I say no favouritism goes on in the BAU. He still bites my ass off if I step out of line.” You joke and your parents chuckled.
The conversation flowed well between your parents and Aaron, much to your relief and before you knew it, your dad was pulling into your driveway. You smiled as you took in your family home that you had missed.
“Home sweet home.” Your dad said as he turned the engine off and the unanimous sound of seatbelts unbuckling filled the car. You all began to climb out and Aaron immediately started lifting the bags out the trunk. You walked round to help him and cringed seeing all your suitcases.
“For someone who always has the smallest go bag, you packed a lot for this trip.” Aaron laughed as he placed down your last suitcase.
“Yeah I may have overpacked just a little.” You giggled and settled on carrying the smallest of all your bags into the house. Both you and aaron trekked up the stairs to your bedroom which you hadn’t stayed in in years.
“Wow mom. You really didn’t change a thing huh?” You muttered as you looked around the childhood bedroom. Pink walls blasting in your face, a Top Gun poster of the shirtless volleyball scene, magazine cuttings of Madonna in the 90s and a random A3 poster of George Clooney in his scrubs from ER. Aaron placed the last of the bags down and took in the obnoxiously decorated room.
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to profile me based on my ill-taste in room decorating.” You laughed and Aaron laughed with you.
“It’s… it’s just not what I was expecting.” He said, once again looking around.
“And what were you expecting Agent Hotchner?” You teased.
“I guess I’m just shocked by the hot pink walls. I might have to put my sunglasses on.”
You lightly punched his arm which Aaron found adorable. “Shut up. It’s not that bright.” You rolled your eyes.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed and you picked it out your pocket.
3:36PM | Emily Prentiss: How’s it going? I’m guessing you’re in LA now.
You turned slightly so Aaron couldn’t see your phone even though he was busy unpacking.
3:38PM | Y/N L/N: It’s going surprisingly well. Everything has gone well with my parents. Only downside is that I’m having to subject Aaron to my awfully decorated room.
3:39PM | Emily Prentiss: Oooh it’s Aaron now is it?
3:41PM | Y/N L/N: Oh shut up. I have to go because we have to get ready for my sister’s engagement party. Kill me now. Hopefully I don’t see he who must not be named.
3:42PM | Emily Prentiss: Good luck and if in doubt, just make out with Hotch… or should I say Aaron?
You shook your head at her last text. Emily was loving your predicament a little too much. You turned back to Aaron, who was still busy unpacking, and your cheeks flushed a little at just how good he looked in his polo shirt, his arms flexing as he moved a suitcase. He then caught you looking at him.
“Is everything ok?” He asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
You snapped out of your school girl crush haze and focused your full attention to his questions. “Yes! Just my sister checking in, making sure we’re here and getting ready for the engagement party.”
“What time is the party?”
“5:30! So we have just under two hours to get ready. God, I better start unpacking to hunt down my dress and makeup.” You groaned.
As you began unzipping your cases and searching for everything you needed for the night, thoughts flooded your head.
Was this façade crazy? Yes. Yes it was.
Will this engagement party go smoothly? Probably not.
Is Luke still going to be a total dick? Oh most definitely.
Are you going to fall in love with Aaron?
‘Am I going to fall in love with Aaron?’ You thought once more and looked back over at him, sorting out his suit for tonight. Taking so much care to not disturb any of the clutter in your room, giving you the space you need to get ready, being just so… Aaron Hotchner, so perfect…
You were so fucked.
***
Part Two
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cyborg-franky · 11 months
Text
Shopping Trip With One Piece Characters
Part of a trade with the awesome @softcenteregg
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Doffy - The very definition of “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”
Has money but you will have to pay for him all day when it comes to lunch and drinks.
Will be sitting at a restaurant at 11 am with a cocktail as he tells you about his week, regardless of if you asked or not.
Checks out the mall hotties.
Laughs when people open push/pull doors wrong.
Always has a cocktail or a Starbucks clutched in one hand, waving his credit card around in the other hand.
Rude to salespeople.
You will be dragged through the mall for hours because he needs to go into every designer shop he can and try on at least seventeen pairs of $400 sunglasses or he’ll die.
Will be the most overdressed person in the area,
When your having lunch with him and he sees someone he doesn’t like, he will be like “Oh hey! Been so long since we hung out, should do it again soon!” then soon as they're gone he’s dishing the dirt.
Also, you will carry his bags, thx.
Roger
Makes you wish you could get those reigns for kids but in adult sizes.
In fact, the entire trip is like taking a child out for his birthday.
Ever seen a huge bearded man grinning in pure glee at the new limited edition Build a Bear products? Ever seen one make like 12?
Do yourself a favor and limit his booze and sugar intake.
Is confused he can’t do a pub crawl in a mall.
Buys alot of those ‘alcoholic chocolates’ by the box load in an attempt to get a nice buzz going.
Thrift shopping but he will try on everything he can.
Does not know how to dress but does it with style, oddly enough.
You won’t get a chance to sit down or rest unless it’s dinner time.
At least he’ll sleep well tonight.
Kid
Hit’s all the stores that sell music and band merch.
Will snort at people who buy things he doesn’t like.
Throws around words like ‘poser’ and judges everyone.
The kinda metal kid who hangs out at the mall with all the wallet chains looking like their parents grounded them, but in their late 20s.
Will spend hours looking for CDs and just say he’s too broke and he’ll download it online anyway.
Walks around the mall trying to find the right shade of lipstick with Killer, both their arms and hands are covered in testers before they both just get more black nail varnish and the same shade they always buy.
Has a reusable plastic cup that's full of jack and coke. 
Taunts mall cops.
Killer
Imagine all of the above but he also spends alot of time looking at fancy new cook wear.
Will spend nothing on food all day but will drop $90 on a brand new crockpot or air fryer for the kitchen.
Very metal of him.
Thatch
Thatch is fun to go with.
Treats you, buys the coffee and lunch.
Is happy to do whatever you want as long as he gets to check out homeware sections while you look at your things.
You will never lose him behind shelves because you can always see his hair.
Like Jaws but with hair and ozone layer murdering levels of hairspray.
Will flirt with staff, will get talking to them for far too long, and hold up the line.
The type of person who has alot of change and makes it a personal challenge to count out change exactly.
Will carry your bags though, he’s a good boy.
Bit judgey on eatery places pastries.
Shanks
I hope you enjoy getting nowhere because when you're at a mall with Shanks or out and about in town you will be stopping every ten steps because someone recognises him and comes over and chats.
Has no concept of how long he’s been talking.
Is the type to have a pint with breakfast or brunch when you guys hang out.
Sale on ugly pants? He’d push you down to get there first.
Always texting the gang when he’s out.
Lol Benn guess what, I saw Buggy and he was with that guy, you know, the one with the hook, lol lol
Will drop Uta off at the mall kids' soft play area even though she’s 18 and still forget to pick her up before leaving.
Ace
Low key baits mall cops by loitering around and looking like an issue but has no intention of being an issue.
Might skateboard inside the mall.
Poses with ‘no skateboard’ signs.
Hopefully, there isn't an arcade in the mall because if you had any intention of getting things done today, that won’t happen now.
Hungry every 20 minutes and has to grab snacks.
100% the kinda friend/boyfriend who sits on the seats outside the changing rooms holding all the bags and groaning, acting like it’s the worst thing in the world.
Is one of those people who opens push/pull doors wrong.
Marco
After taking five minutes to park correctly he’s happy to go with the flow. 
Likes to have a coffee and a people watch with you, chatty and social.
But he will drag you to shoe stores and you will be sat there for ages as he tries on every strappy sandal in the place, walking up and down and asking you what you think.
“I like this one but I don’t know if it makes me too tall yoi.” while you can’t for the life of you tell the difference between that pair and the last 40.
If you meet him at the mall he might be late, very much the shows up 20 minutes late with Starbucks.
Has a tendency to wander off in shops and you spend half your time looking for him.
Doesn’t give a warning when entering a shop if something shiny caught his bird brain.
Benn
He hates the mall.
Imagine a dad who has to take his teenage daughter clothes shopping and that’d basically be him with Shanks.
Benn is a very ‘I know what I am here for’ in and out kind of person but he doesn’t mind going to other places with you.
Ignores staff-only signs when he knows there is a smoking area on the other side of that door.
Is the person to remind you of the ‘insert thing here we have at home’ and is a shop sensible person, though he won't say anything if you do buy another T-shirt that looks exactly like the one you already have.
Pretends to be annoyed at carrying the shopping, but he offered and he likes to help you out.
If you complain about your feet hurting he’ll helpfully tell you he told you to wear your other shoes.
Sabo and Luffy
Banned
Both have their pictures up in the security office.
Sabo for giving the mall cops the finger, graffiti, and shoplifting.
Luffy peed in the fountain and kept stealing pick-n-mix.
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hello from the hallowoods dashboard simulator
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😈 valerie-meme-stone
I'm not ready for my spotify wrapped to just be stonemaiden. like i get it spotify i know i'm gay
53 notes
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📝 the-poetry-panopticon Follow
Unfriendly reminder not to sign up for a Dreaming Box subscription! The Botulus Corporation is not to be trusted! Here's an article explaining the language in their contract and why it's concerning! In addtion, they use AI generated images in the Prime Dream, which we should all know by now is unethical.
14,034 notes
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🥗 bisexualranchdressing Follow
dang this is crazy. i thought wildfire smoke was bad but what the fuck is this????
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🌅 nerdy-tragedy-theorist Follow
well according to color theory
🌅 nerdy-tragedy-theorist Follow
never mind i've got nothing
739 notes
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⚡ evil-electrician Follow
friendly reminder to stop spreading misinformation about the black water! people are saying that it brings people and animals back to life but that's not exactly true! although their body may be back, they're not the same person and they will likely become violent and dangerous. please stay inside and be really careful what you and your pets eat or drink.
🐈‍⬛ cats-not-capitalism Follow
fuck you op i'm keeping my undead cat
⚡ evil-electrician Follow
good luck keeping your fingers
48,230 notes
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🐧 morally-grey-penguin Follow
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1,383,248 notes
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eccentricelina-deactivated04232030
i must not go to sleep in the lake today. afternoon nap is the mind killer
eccentricelina-deactivated04232030
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mmmmmm cozy
eccentricelina-deactivated04232030
where is my skin
eccentricelina-deactivated04232030
going back to sleep honk shoooooo
635 notes
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🌮 mysteriously-crafty-nacho Follow
reblog this post to go north with the person you reblogged this from
54,092 notes
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🧊 botulus-corporation Follow
The Botulus Corporation is with you during this difficult time. Join our happy dreaming family where you and your loved ones will be safe from the rain. Tumblr users get 30% off on a Dreaming Box subscription!
🐨 chief-koala-typhoon Follow
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73,932 notes
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🌿 shiny-wolf-tragedy Follow
it fucken rainny
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🐼 dreamland-panda Follow
love that they'll be a literal apocalyse and tumblr users will just make memes. never change tumblr
72,138 notes
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👁️‍🗨️ the-magnus-brotocol
choosing between the irl amazing digital circus or probably fucking dying was not on my 2030 bingo card but okay
👁️‍🗨️ the-magnus-brotocol
at this point i just gotta expect that if the year is divisible by 10 then something terrible will happen
94 notes
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🐺 werewolves-are-hot
hey do you think i can get a real werewolf boyfriend now that monsters are real
🐺 werewolves-are-hot
any cute werewolf boyfriends in this part of the woods
429 notes
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🌷 pleasant-arcade-land
oh man it's been a couple months since I last updated this fanfic huh! so I just drank some black water by accident and now I have a few extra fingers, and honestly that took some getting used to, but it's actually pretty convenient now and is really helpign me get more words in lol im still here writing homestuck fanfic in 2030 hehehehehe anyway new chapter here
38 notes
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🌑 the-void-whispers Follow
so, it looks like tumblr might be dying soon due to, well, *gestures wildly.* You'll have to kill me before I join Twitter now that the Botulus Corporation bought it (and no, I am not calling it B, that is just stupid) so if you want to hear from me you will simply need to look out for passenger pigeons. in the meantime, ill be here until tumblr straight up dies and i have a crying session about it
🦌 gamer-guy-bath-water Follow
we do not grieve ice when it melts, or celebrate the sapling when it rises from the soil. they just are. life and death and rebirth are one constant state. and without change, there would be nothing to watch
⚔️ sword-lesbian-enthusiast
add that to the list of banger quotes from tumblr memes
82,362 notes
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saltylandland · 1 month
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‘Who hasn’t jerked off while their family was fighting downstairs?’
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I.E I loved Lisa Frankenstein and while I don’t want to see cole sprouse in a porno (cuz I really don’t lol) this scene would’ve slapped so this post and this poll is what decided this fic. Sorry if this is unreadable I mostly wrote it sleep deprived
Warnings: y’all heard of David being the hidden romantic, but are you prepared for somewhat romantic! Marko? (More like virgin, obsessed with the reader) Vibrator, somewhat voyeuristic? Also Marko can turn into a bat instead of a revamped corpse for the purposes of our story
Also go watch Lisa Frankenstein y’all it’s so good
As you walk through the door you feel your soul escaping you, floating around dizzyingly. Surely it’s finding its way to hell before your body follows it, not that you particularly believed in hell anyway.
Greeting you in the front foyer is your father and step sister, with varied states of worry. Lovingly contrasted by your numbness. You bring her into a hug, comforting her over her missing mother. With a sharp sting you feel the bat in your pocket bite you through your clothes.
With a hiss you jump out of the embrace “ow you little shit” rubbing near the spot where he’d bitten you mutter quietly. Your sister looks at you through her tears, “what?” You subconsciously hit your pocket as nerves rack through you. “I said you must be going through it, hah ha”
Your sister nods with a rueful smile “yeah, I think we’re going to make a police report, would you like to join us?” Your back straightens as you inch up the stairs away from her “oh, you know, I choose to believe that she will be here first thing in the morning, making a police report makes it feel real, ya know?” With a watery smile she pulls you back in for a hug before you bolt, blissfully unaware of her mother’s two killers in front of her. “Yeah, she’ll be home tomorrow, then we can all laugh together about the missing person report”
“Yeah, truely” and with that you leap up the stairs to your room.
Even with the distance between them you could still hear your father’s and panicked step sister talking. Slowly you close your door before leaving it open a crack as Marko jumps out of your pocket, swiftly changing into his human form as soon as he could. Buzzing about, he digs through your closet for pyjamas and you two get ready for bed. It feels oddly… domestic.
Marko gets to bed first, patting the space beside him as you slowly crawl into your place. You heave a tired sigh as the day sets in on you, as you watch Marko grab the ‘massager’, offering to ‘massage’ you for your troubles.
Looking at his eager face you wouldn’t have been able to even conceive the look of utter bloodthirst he had on as he ‘got rid of the evidence’. But looking at his expression now, you don’t feel anything you probably should feel isn’t present. You didn’t want to go to the psyche ward your ‘intuitive’ step mother wanted to send you too, and looking at the person who made that go away…
He’s still fiddling with the vibrator, waiting till you let him massage you. Reaching for it, you stiltedly lean over. “You know… it’s not a massager actually… actually it’s used for…” gesturing wildly a bit, you gently push the wand down to your upper thigh. You see his back straighten as he hesitates for a second on what to do.
Trailing it up your thigh your body does a full body shiver as you giggle from nerves. There were countless times you’ve used the vibratior yourself, but there’s something about the alien feeling of the wand exploring your body in someone else’s hand. Up and over your stomach gently it goes all the way to your neck and back. Just like how he’s done before with his normal massages. This time, his lips trail over the same areas, ghosting over your skin carefully. Devotedly.
Marko watches your reactions with rapid attention, as the wand starts to dip back down to the lower half of your body. It started agonisingly slow, but as your breath hitches, he picks up the pace with an eager grin. He’s so close to your pussy you hold yourself back from grabbing at his hand to pull him closer, until you suddenly hear from beyond the loud thrumming of your wand. Your step sister crying louder as she talks on the phone and- oh fuck
Marko presses the wand right on your mound, so close to your clit, yet still a bit clumsy. But with the prep beforehand to make you all hot and bothered, it feels heavenly. Shaking you go grab his hand to push it away but he holds steady, your voice pitching uncontrollably higher that you worry your family below can hear you. Marko shows no remorse nor any signs of stopping, not that you’d want him too.
Moving the wand around to find the best reaction you can give and once he finds your clit you give him quite a show. Half leaning on his chest your back arches as you moan. One hand on the pillows below you and the other taken captive by Marko’s other hand. Which he holds up to his mouth to kiss. A sweet gentlemanly action as he rubs the sex toy directly over your clit.
You still listen disconnectedly to your family downstairs as they talk on the phone, but that worry only heightens your high. With a final desperate gasp you cum in your pyjamas. The lights in the house flicker from the voltage your vibrator requires.
Basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, you listen to the sounds downstairs, your family have since finished the police report and dispersed to who knows where.
Fiddling with your clothes while you were distracted, Marko pressed the wand onto your bare skin. Looking at him quickly, you start to melt into his embrace once again.
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Text
Love or Obsession?
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pairing(s): young!yandere!nick goode x shadysider!reader, platonic!ziggy berman x reader.
summary: after seeing you with tommy, nick’s not sure what he feels for you is love or obsession. but one thing’s for sure, you’re his.
warnings: toxicity, gore, blood, murder(?), manipulation, obsession, yandere, tommy becomes possessed lol, possession, mentions of sacrificing, mature language.
i wasn’t sure if I should add a spoiler warning considering the three movies have been out for some time now so I didn’t add one. sorry! but enjoy. and don’t really worry it doesn’t go by the plot of the movies anyway(mostly).
You were a camper. And he was a counselor. Okay, you weren’t that young. Only two years younger than he was. You wouldn’t deny having a small attraction for Nick Goode, Sheriff Goode’s son and the king of Sunnyvale.
Though he didn’t have a huge ego like you had expected. In fact, he was down to earth and kind, and kind of introverted. You shared similar hobbies. But you were a shadysider and sunnyvalers didn’t particularly get along with Shadysiders.
It was an normal day, well, a normal Sunny day. You definitely liked nature, but was worn out from the hiking and activities.
“Worn out? Tommy teased. “Kind of yeah, you chuckle. He wasn’t that much older than you yet a counselor. You didn’t even plan on becoming one anyway.
Yeah, you liked helping out with children but wanted a better job and focus on studies at the same time. “Hey, it’s fine, he assured you.”some of these kids never run out of energy.”
“I know right? You chuckle. Neither of you noticed that Nick had been glaring daggers right into Tommy’s skull. He was pissed. More so jealous. That you were the one Tommy was interested in. Everyone knew that.
Including him. And he needed to do something about it. He felt something for you, that he knew for sure. But wasn’t sure on what. Love or Obsession? Could it be both.
It had been passed down from family to family. Sacrifices. Possessions. And it was Nick’s turn. He already had a name in mind. At that moment, he decided Tommy would be the perfect candidate for possession. And kill all. Then you wouldn’t be so interested in him now would you?
Shadyside wasn’t a shithole for no reason. And as everyone suspected, it was a curse. Placed by Solomon Goode all those years ago back in 1666.
You suddenly trip, but Tommy caught you before you fell. You laughed. "You're a life saver. I swear." He blushed. "It's no big deal, Y/n."
You smile. "Well, I mean, i think so. You're so sweet. You know, helping everyone." "That's what a counselor does... He smiles, before rushing over to help with the next activity.
You didn't know then, that would be the final time you would see Tommy before hell broke loose. You grew tired so eventually you fell asleep quite early. Normally, You were up and ready.
When suddenly, You hear screams. You leave your cabin quick. "Y/N! Ziggy yells. "Ziggy! What's happening? You exclaim. "The witch... she possessed Tommy... Ziggy said.
"No... You frown."Not him. Why him?" Ziggy replies,”I don’t know we just have to go! I don’t want you to die!”
“I won’t, just promise me you won’t, and you’ll live, You say, standing close by your best friend. “I promise, she replies.
You both ran for your lives. You always believed that witch shit even though you shouldn’t. Because last summer, you found something you shouldn’t.
Back then you were a skeptical of the Sarah Fier Legend. A curse on Shadyside, Really? You knew the town had bad luck but a curse was out of reach.
Then you found a ritual. someone who worshipped satan or whatever had a place to go for that. And look what you found. The names of each shadyside killer carved into rocks no human could’ve done with their bare hands.
And it seemed quite obvious that Sarah fier was behind it. After all, she wanted revenge. But that was before Tommy’s name had been put into it. Which explained why Nurse Lane attacked him.
You didn’t want to admit it but she should’ve. It would’ve prevented a huge massacre. But you adored tommy. Though oblivious to his obvious feelings for you.
You two ran for a while until you screamed,”Tommy!” He was right in front of you and was about to strike but turned his attention to Ziggy.
“No! You yell and as he was about to you move her out of the way, both of you unharmed. “Y/N, you could’ve died! I can’t lose you! She said.
“Look, we’re both okay? And it was odd, he didn’t even… try to kill me, You say. “I know, maybe his feelings for you were why, ziggy blurted.
“What? You say. “Oh, She said. "You didn’t know? It was so obvious he was in love with you.” “I thought he was into Cindy… You say. “No, she’s into Alice and everyone also knows that, Ziggy said.
"Whatever, we need to hide! He killed Jeremy, Jesse, Stacey and More kids! You yell, sobbing but tried not to. Ziggy nods. You grew up with her, if you lost her, you wouldn't know how to live.
You run with her, her hand in yours, you didn't want to let go. "Hey look! I found somewhere we could hide... Ziggy begins."Fuck, Cindy! Where is she?"
"Where did you see her last? You asked. "I-I don’t remember, we just should find her, Ziggy said. "Also, I locked Sheila in the bathroom." "Good one, You said. "But she could be killed. Plus, I heard something about Cindy and Alice going somewhere involving Sarah Fier."
"Okay, come on! Ziggy said, you run to the bathroom but now you were growing exhausted. "Sheila? You say. "Fucking Shadysider Bitch! Sheila replied. "Did you lock me in here?"
"Y/n didn't, I did... But come on, Ziggy entering the bathroom before Sheila began attacking her. You pulled her off of Ziggy. ”Calm down. there’s a killer and you have to leave or-“
“Of course it’s always a shadysider huh? Sheila said. "I mean, you’re the reason this shit is happening.” “Shut the fuck up, you don’t know what’s going on first of all, You say, laced with venom in your voice. "Second, I think we can all agree none of us want to die so-“
“Hello! Cindy said, and you could hear her voice. "Can anybody hear us?” Ziggy realized like you that it was Cindy and follows the voice. Only to see them under the bathroom.
“What are you guys doing there? You say. “Oh thank fucking god, Alice said. “It’s a long story but… can you help us out? Cindy said.
“Yeah of course, You reply. Ziggy come help me.” “No hesitation, Ziggy said, relief that her sister was okay. You help them up. Apparently Tommy was possessed first there. He killed Alice's stoner friend, Arnie.
"Wow, You said, hearing everything. "I mean, i knew of the whole ritual stuff. But-" "You knew he would be possessed? Ziggy asked. You shook your head."No, But i knew then this witch shit was real."
"Oh."
"In order to stop this, we need to reunite her hand with her body, Cindy said. You nodded. You noticed how she held onto Alice's hand. You hadn't seen Nick, Will, Joan or Kurt in a while. Which made you wonder if they were murdered too.
Nick was acting kind of lately, you didn't know why. But either way, you had to find out. "Well, where is her body? I don't think she had been buried anywhere near here, You point out.
"Y/n's right, Ziggy agreed. "Look, she is, Alice said, moving the book in front of you. You read and looked it over. "Holy shit she is, You exclaimed.
"Fuck, Ziggy said. "Which is why we could bury her hand with her body, we know where her hand is too, Cindy explained. You nodded. "Then what are we waiting for? We could end this curse now."
"Okay, Cindy said. "Come on." Sarah Fier's hand was in the front on fhe table. It soon made sense why she had been buried under the tree where she had been hung. But when you accidentally touched her skeletal hand, you saw everything. You wiped your bloody nose. "I saw the witch. She was pissed. So we we should hurry up."
You grabbed any weapons you could. Even if you didn't know if you could kill or hurt anybody. But before Alice could even kill, Tommy killed her. Cindy angrily lunged at him, and so did you.
Your eyes were filled with tears but you didn't let them fall. "Alice, don't die on us, You said softly. "Please." However, she took her last breath and became another victim. But everyone couldn't mourn for long.
Everyone heard someone singing. "Ruby Lane, You said. "Come on, we have to go." Cindy was naturally reluctant but agreed. Somehow, you got lost from Cindy and Ziggy, who you figured were digging.
As you walked, hoping you could find your way back, you bumped into Nick. "Nick! You're okay! You said, sighing of relief. "Y/N, where were you.. He said, his voice filled with concern. "I... think we could end this curse, You said."
"Y/n, come on, this witch stuff isn't real, he just went crazy, Nick said. "No, Nick, I saw her, She's pissed, I saw the fucking witch! You exclaim. Tommy, the sweet guy you knew, didn't just go crazy. Neither did Nurse Lane. She was right. Of course she had been.
"Hey, this will all be over, Nick assures you, suddenly hugging you, pulling you close while you cried on his shoulder, not seeing the smirk on his face.
Everything was going according to plan.
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jasontoddenthusiastt · 8 months
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The recent influx of “Jason is obviously a bad person. Look at how many people he’s killed” posts is 2x more idiotic because it runs on the same premise as “Jason is a cop symbol”. There’s an infinitely more famous example right next to him that people ignore entirely.
In the real world killing people is a felony, just as vigilantism as a whole is too. The same way Batman is a fictional character in a fake world, Jason is not part of the real world either. I think if you’re above age 10 you should’ve moved past the stage of trying to point fingers to try to determine a right vs wrong way to do illegal vigilantism in a world like the dcu while pretending it’s a perfect model of a real society lol.
Batman enjoys maiming and crippling people (bad things). Why is he working with cops and throwing drug addicts into prison after beating the tar out of them (bad things). It’s proven in the real world that that does not do anything to rehabilitate them and in fact costs the government billions of dollars and actually worsens the war on drugs (higher mortality & crime rates, and increased spread of infectious diseases). Yet since the authors constantly spoon feed you lines about how heroic he is people just eat that shit up, disregarding the fact that it might be utter horseshit irl and his morals wouldn’t make much sense either.
If ‘character doing bad thing’ is synonymous with ‘character can’t possibly be a good person’, then that should negate the idea that Batman’s biggest trait is compassion (although I think it already does for other in-story reasons lol, re: he tends to be classist and discriminatory towards people who commit petty crimes, calling them degrading names like “trash” and “bottom-feeders”. No amount of donating to charity makes you a good person if at your core you see poor/homeless people as lesser and you get a kick out of mocking them).
There’s far more evidence of Jason possessing all the good traits the authors keep begging you to believe Batman has. He patiently fed and cared for his dying mother all alone as a small baby/child. He literally fed groups of homeless people like a mother hen everyday while he himself was homeless, brain dead, and running on basic survival instincts. After finally regaining higher functioning in his brain and discovering the joker was still alive, one of the first things he cried about was the countless number of other innocent people dead at the hands of his own killer. If the only justification you have for why Jason’s a bad person is that he kills, that’s a weak and baseless argument for obvious reasons.
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phyrestartr · 3 months
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The Starved King [Miguel x M!Reader]
(King!Miguel x Knight!Reader)
Note: Just a drabble that I want to throw out into the universe while I consider how to continue it lol I like the idea, I just don't want to dwell on it too much and get stuck in analysis paralysis 🫠 lmk if you'd like to see me continue this!!
Miguel found you. Amidst the plethora of flashy royals, he somehow managed to pick you out of the crowd–that handsome face, a fox-like smile, dragon-fire eyes all rang true in his memories of dying and bleeding on the battlefield until a young knight from a cursed kingdom chose to spare him instead of spear. 
Memories curled around him in the same way your fingers once did, buzzing with something rich and sinful that'd mend his wounds over the coming weeks left in that war-wrecked cottage. Miguel, the enemy king, was so close to death, yet you, injured and exhausted yourself, kept him breathing.
“Why do this?” Miguel asked one night while you busied with the fire, working whatever magics you had to make the flame dance. 
“Why do what?” You wondered, not looking away from the glow. 
“Keep me alive.” Miguel coughed and winced. Still, he forced himself to sit, and earned the sharp snap of your gaze on him. 
“You shouldn't–”
“I'll keep what dignity I have left,” Miguel scoffed. Then, sitting back against the wall, he got a good look at you; it seemed you’d run into some trouble with a knife, so suggested the long streaks of red tearing across your young face. A sword would have taken your head clean off. You wore typical armour of a knight from your kingdom, yet the flash of a muddied brooch caught his attention a moment before you looked away from him and back at the fire. 
“Where are you from?” The tired king asked. 
“Does it matter where I hail from? Right now, we’re two men simply trying to survive, yes?” You jabbed at the fire with a half-burnt stick. “I’m not interested in being a king-killer, so you needn’t worry; in fact, be glad it was I who found you and not one of my beastly brothers. They’d have had your head strapped to their horse in a second.” Your accent was foreign, not one that he could say was even a bit familiar. It struck his nerves as much as it piqued his interest further. 
“Then you come from a damned kingdom.” 
“A rightfully damned one, yes. Small. Unremarkable. Yet still hated, or perhaps just feared.”
“Most wouldn’t say that about their home.” Miguel adjusted his posture and took a moment to take a look at his wounds: bandaged torso, splinted leg, a splinted arm. Fantastic. “Unless you despise your people.”
“Oh please, I don’t despise my people,” you spat, eyes growing fierce and venomous. “They’re just people. Peasants. Workers. The poor, the hungry, the needy–the people are subjected to the idiocy of greedy elders and mislead ways. The queen wants to change things, and yet–” You took a deep breath and rubbed your face. “And yet things cannot change as they are. More time is needed. Until then, we participate in useless battles with your ilk. To, what, prove something? To show our might?”
“Killing a king would turn the tide,” Miguel said. He really shouldn’t have. That one statement might have changed your mind, might have ended his life and shirked the responsibility of a kingdom to his daughter. 
“Do you want me to kill you?”
“No, I–”
“Then shut up. Your blabbering isn’t useful.” 
“I just–if your kingdom is in such a state, then why–”
“I don’t want to.” 
Ah. 
“Kill-shy?” Miguel asked with a slight smirk. “Doesn’t seem very righteous of you.” 
“Excuse me?” Your face, suddenly animated and brimming with heat, turned to him again. You moved closer, half-crawling, half-scooting on the dusty stone floor to his bedside. “Look at you. You should be glad I’m more interested in healing than I am killing, you prick.” You sat up on your knees and leaned into his space. Miguel’s mind swirled in a way it used to when a pretty woman leaned into him during his courting days.
“I still don’t see a point in mercy,” Miguel whispered, his voice caught between his mouth and his heart. 
“Because I’m gifted. An asset. A good pick for an ally.” You tilted your head and gazed up at the older man through your lashes. Your hand, bare, pressed against Miguel’s skin, smoothing over the gauze wrapping around his chest. “Perhaps once I’ve secured my place as king myself, you’ll remember me, and what I can do for you.” 
What I can do for you. Ah. That sent blood rushing south and ideas flooding north. 
Miguel’s hand grasped one of your wrists, and he too leaned in the slightest bit. “And what is it you can do for me, exactly?”
“Everything,” you whispered. “Anything.” 
A wave of warmth pulsed through his chest, radiating from your palm. It came in one wave, but so suddenly like an explosion easing into the steady comfort of his chamber hearth, glowing quietly throughout the night. The stiff warnings in his chest melted and eased, and suddenly, he could move freely again. His arm and leg still ached terribly, but his chest seemed to have been…healed? 
“Magic,” he breathed. 
“Magic,” you whispered.
He closed the gap and kissed you. You whimpered something soft and sweet into his mouth as he took the lead, his one good hand digging into the space connecting your neck to your shoulder, not allowing you to run away. But he learned quickly you’d no desire to leave with how you clambered onto the bed and shed just enough of your clothes to take him. 
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blindmagdalena · 5 months
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Although he's not truly a Nazi the way Stormfront was, we do see many times throughout the show that Homelander is a bit of racist, especially towards Hispanics. I mean, he doesn't like it when he hears Ryan speaking Spanish, and all his interactions with Supersonic were so, uh, uncomfy, to say the least.
HOWEVER, Homelander is willing to overlook anything when he gets emotionally involved with someone. Like how he's always rambling on about supes being the superior race while at the same time lowkey worshipping Madelyn.
How do you think he will react to dating a Latina? I can see him being a major asshole at the beginning, complaining about her putting on Latin music while in the penthouse, and cooking "weird food". But slowly and almost unwillingly he gets dragged into the culture.
Like, her brothers and cousins adopt him and suddenly he's the guy who goes to parrillada every Sunday to hang out with his amigos, playing domino and watching freaking soccer. They nickname him "El Casas" and teach him how to speak Spanish but the type that's only spoken deep in the guetto and has grandmothers clutching their pearls.
He starts watching Soap Operas with his girlfriend ironically but then gets weirdly into them to the point that he's crying his eyes out every other episode. He also starts calling her mami/mamita and his mommy kink gets like ten times worse. Which is fine by her because she's been calling him papi rey (king daddy) in her mind since the moment she laid eyes on him.
Once they finally go public, Homelander is all but embraced by the Latino community and it makes his ratings go through the roof because America's Dad speaking perfect Spanish and dancing Salsa in his girlfriend's livestreams is the best representation they've ever gotten. His fanbase drastically changes ofc. Stormfront would be rolling on her grave, I just know it.
Forgive me if this is weird, I'm just a sad latina who's dying for representation in Homelander x reader stories.
GIRL YOU GOT ME INVESTED. i was pulling out the popcorn by the end of this!! tell me you’re gonna write this! it’s not weird at all, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to see yourself represented. i’ve had this conversation a couple of times, and i can guarantee you’re not alone in wanting this: there’s an audience waiting!
i always tag @irenadel in these (which I hope she isn’t tired of lol) because her fic Pygmalion is the only one that i know of so far that leans into this, so you should definitely check it out if you haven’t already. i happen to have insider info that she’s working on the next chapter 👀
really and truly though, it sounds to me like you have the makings of a killer fic lined up in your mind. you clearly have a solid understanding of Homelander’s psychology, too. i really think you could do something awesome with this! it’s important that people tell these stories, and i’m not always the right person to do that.
i would 100% read the heck out of this. 🖤
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silverzoomies · 10 months
Text
Polaroid
peter maximoff x reader smut
warnings: solo masturbation. that's pretty much it, sorry
word count: 2,625
a/n: i wrote about him jerking off again. whoops. i've been absent for a week. but i'll be home tomorrow !! and hopefully i can get back into the flow of writing. until then, here's this rushed, unpolished thing i wrote on a whim !! it's super clunky and i'm so sorry lol !!
edit: made some minor changes to this. fixed some things that felt off, but overall it's still the same idea.
taglist: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz (as usual, ask to be added !!)
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Home alone, at long last. Helllllllz to the yeah. Down in the heart of his (mom’s) basement, Peter lies lazily on his back in bed. Today, it's one of those slow, hot afternoons midway through summer. Sunny, with a slight overcast. Peter hasn’t been outside to see it for himself. But he heard some guy on the radio call it “totally tubular” weather for a day at the beach.
He almost wishes he’d take a two second run to the Bahamas, or somewhere else. Peter could kick it back on a towel and watch babes in bikinis walk by. Maybe he could even stir up some trouble in the sand. Like he used to do, way back in his childhood. Just for some extra mayhem.
Alas. Today, Peter feels lazier than lazy. He’s found a new name for himself in Lazyville. As the leading candidate in the office of laziness. Speeding all around the globe for the umpteenth time this week sounds like too much work. Even a super powered mutant, living life in the fast lane, has his off days sometimes. What’s one break, eh? Breathing a sigh, he stares up at the ceiling. Earphones rest over his ears. Peter listens to a melodious tune by Jefferson Starship. Over his belly, he twirls his thumbs, bobbing his head along with his jams. Chillaxin’ and relaxin’ as one should on his day off. Hm.
Except, Peter’s kind of antsy. No one’s home at the moment. He has all this free time to do whatever he wants, in the privacy of said home. With not a soul around to judge him, or even bug him. And listen. It’s been centuries since he got off. Which may or may not be a slight exaggeration.
But wouldn’t you believe it? Despite his uniquely handsome features and outrageously fit bod; Peter has absolutely no game whatsoever. Crazy, right? Who woulda thought it? The dude who locked himself away in his (mom’s) basement for a good ten years. He’s awkward as hell? Say it ain’t so! Whoa!! Insane in the membrane!!!
Not to mention, it might as well have been a geological age since he got laid. Whatever. Who needs the companionship of someone else to have a totally righteous time, huh? Haha…
Ahem.
Today, Peter dubs himself the crowned king of slacking off and jacking off.
Pulling his earphones down to rest around his neck, his fingers move to find his jeans. He teases himself for a beat or two, his palm rubbing over the denim. Another beat, and his cock is freed from the tight, restrictive material. Peter makes a mental note: He might need to invest in looser pants. This pair is rough and uncomfortable around his legs, so he shoves them all the way down to his ankles with virtually no shame.
What does it matter anyway? For the time being, he’s free. At least until his mom gets back, that is. He should really stop thinkin’ about that. Every time Peter remembers - oh, yeah - he’s a grown ass man still living at his mom’s place; it kinda wrecks the vibe. Makes the mood crash and burn. Total boner killer. And he’s not even hard yet.
His half-hard cock rests limply over a curly patch of silver hairs. Peter would never admit it to anyone, but he’s always been self conscious of his hair situation. Some chick back in high school - he can’t even remember her name - said his silvery bush “looked really weird.” Like the pubes of some geriatric. 
Peter can barely picture her face at this point. But the sound of her giggling at his expense is, unfortunately, locked away in his brain forever. Another embarrassing memory to withstand the test of time. Probably until he dies, or becomes a geriatric himself.
What was he doing again? Oh. Right.
Peter gives his dick a firm squeeze, like he’s checking to make sure it’s still there. Before taking the semi-hard length into his hand. Slowly, he strokes himself to hardness. Breathing a relieved sigh, Peter settles into the groovy-patterned sheets of his bed. The smooth tip of his cock inches through his closed fist with every stroke. As his frustration blossoms, his length throbs with an intense longing for something more.
Thick veins pulsate under his hand. Sparkling beads of precum leak from his tip. He coats the head in a generous glaze of slickness, eliciting a hushed noise from the depths of his throat. Keeping himself as quiet as humanly possible is basically a instinctive response. But he doesn’t have to hold himself back right now, does he?
Sweet. Peter’s gonna be as loud and obnoxious as he wants.
Pumping his cock a bit faster, he momentarily stops to fondle his balls. They rest heavy in his palm, smooth to the touch and loose between his fingers. After teasing himself impatiently, Peter redirects his attention to his twitching length. Aching for more stimulation. He jerks off with a pleasurable rhythm. Subconsciously following the beat that resonates from his earphones, his strokes fall into a more consistent pace. He leans further back in bed, letting his lips part. His nerves tingle. And as he revels in the sensation, he loudly moans. Letting the noise rip through the silence of his ( mom’s ) basement.
Said basement has now become more stifling. Kudos to the summertime heat for that one. Peter’s Conan the Barbarian T-Shirt - now damp with his sweat - feels like too much of a hindrance. He pulls the fabric up, letting his upper half breath. With his shirt clamped between his teeth, Peter leaves his body exposed. A sheen of sweat coats his abs, and his pecs raise with each labored breath he takes.
He takes a half second to admire his own physique. Honestly? No bullshit? His body looks pretty damn amazing. If only there were someone around to appreciate how naturally jacked he is. It’s a hell of a tragedy, really. All this smokin’ hot, speedster bod goin’ to waste. Tsk tsk tsk.
Who was he even kidding? Why would anyone wanna waste their time messin’ around with a total shut-in like him?
Dammit. Now's not the time for some hateful, self-ribbing. He should distract himself with something. Something like-
Using the gift of his mutation, Peter increases his speed by a few notches. His fist squeezes tightly around his length, stroking his cock even faster. He groans into his shirt, knitting his brows as arousal washes through his groin in waves. It feels good. Really fucking good.
But it’s not enough. He wants to utilize this free time as much as he can. It’s the perfect opportunity to get even more frisky than he usually would. Peter bolts around the basement, searching for a few hidden…uh…treasures, we’ll call them. In a blink, he reappears on his bed, leaving his overly tight jeans and boxers discarded on the floor.
Lying next to Peter over the wrinkled blankets, rest a bottle of lube - the tingly kind, a stroker toy - clear, with literal, silver lining, and a polaroid photo. The toy hasn’t been used in eons, but its quality is still up to par. Peter made sure to clean it the instant he found it again. And the photo, well…
It’s his own, filthy secret.
A low-res, high flash picture taken of you at last year’s, X-mansion, Halloween party. Whoa, mama. You were scantily clad in the most outrageously suggestive Indiana Jones costume Peter ever saw. Back at the party, you even tipped your hat and cracked the whip a couple of times. Which may or may not have awakened something in him. But that’s beside the point.
You were so tipsy that night. Way more flirtatious than you naturally would be any other day. Peter remembers you pressing your body against his, hanging over him all night like a sexy sack of potatoes. He sat next to you on the couch. With a cheesy grin on his face, he watched your every move. The tiny shorts you were wearing kept riding up your thighs. It was obvious you were braless under a tight, cropped, button-up shirt. Leaving so little to the imagination.
Point blank, it was fucking awesome.
You crossed your smooth legs. One over the other. And you leaned in to whisper something hot in Peter’s ear.
“Take a picture with meeeee, Quickie, I wanna remember this moment forrrever and everrrr.” You pleaded, your breath tickling the skin of his neck. 
What followed, he hadn’t seen coming. As someone - it’s all a blur, Peter can’t remember who - snapped the photo, you pressed your glossy lips to his cheek. Your giggles were so coquettish and teasing, he felt shivers race through his body at mach speed.
“I’m, like, sooooooooo scared of snakes. Geddit? ‘Cuz I’m Indiana? But your snake doesn’t scare me. Can I pet it, pllllleeeassse?” You giggled again with a little whine.
Making an abrupt move, you reached for Peter’s crotch in front of everybody. After zipping away to grab you a solo cup full of water and some bread, Peter snatched the photo from whoever. And he bolted home in a fit of shameful embarrassment.
In retrospect, you weren’t just tipsy. You were majorly smashed. You didn’t remember a single minute of it. Figures. He’s not too surprised you wouldn’t remember flirting with him.
Peter sighs, blinking himself out of the memory. Eager to continue his once-in-a-silver-moon, jerkin’ session. He squeezes a fair amount of lube into his palm, wrapping his large hand tightly around his cock. Over every inch of his aching length, he spreads the slick substance. Tingles sparkle like stars across the hot, velvet skin of his cock. Wet noises echo lewdly through the basement, as Peter pumps his leaking dick fast and hard.
Clenching his shirt between his teeth, Peter tilts his head back. A loud, seething moan slips from his lips, slightly muffled. He pauses again, grabbing the stroker and guiding its smooth slit over the swollen head of his cock.
“MMmmmnnn~!” Peter hums a steady moan, exhaling through his nose.
The inside of the toy feels nothing even remotely close to the real thing. Kind of a bummer. But the tunnel’s soft, bumpy ridges are still a double A plus. A little too good sometimes, actually. The toy slides down Peter’s cock as he pushes his entire length through. It’s a tight fit around him. Tighter than it should be. Which is doing wonders for his confidence. Maybe he should be more proud of his size.
He’s above average enough, the small toy can’t contain the length of him entirely. His weeping tip peeks out the other side of the stroker, prodding through with every pump. Peter breathes another, shuddering moan. His brows crease in pleasure. Pumping his cock with the squishy toy, he whines in desperation. Forcing his thick length through the toy’s tight grip, slick with lube and smooth as silk. The ridges inside tickle and massage his cock, stimulating his buzzing nerves. 
The muscles in his groin tighten, stiffening his legs. Shoving his cock rapidly through the ribbed tunnel of the toy, he groans louder. Letting his needy noises slip as they please. Fuck it. No restraint. Indulging himself further in his degeneracies, Peter keeps your photo close by. He shoots a glance at it, admiring your soft thighs and amazing cleavage.
He daydreams about you. Imagining the way you’d feel around him, squeezing him so much tighter than any toy. You’d be needy and wet for him too, making it so easy for Peter to bury himself balls deep inside you. 
Peter thinks about the way your titties would look, bouncing with each thrust of his hips against you. Would your nipples peak, stiffening under his fingers? How would you react if he had a little fun, and teased you with a superspeed buzz? Would you even like that? Would you think that kinda thing was weird?
He really does want you sooooo bad. But you have absolutely zero idea. Peter knows he’d treat you right if you let him. If you ever gave him the time of day outside of missions, he’d take you on the wildest ride you ever strapped yourself into.
Clenching his teeth hard into his shirt, he wraps both hands tightly around the stroker. Peter leans as far back as he can, bracing his feet flat on the bed. The blankets curl under his toes, as he lifts his hips. Driving his cock through the slick, textured toy and fucking it hard.
“Nnghh…fuuuuck. Fuck.” He groans, voice catching under fabric.
His breaths quicken, and his moans morph into desperate whimpers. Peter aches for your heat, and the closeness of your body. Your gentle touch. Your sweet voice and little whines. He knows, without a doubt, you’d feel beyond amazing. And you’d probably taste so sublime.
Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Peter whimpers into his shirt. Saliva seeps through the fabric, melting off his tongue and dribbling down his chin. His cheeks burn hotter, turning a brighter shade of crimson.
“Mmmmmfuckyeah-” Peter moans, followed by a muffled mumble of your name.
He fucks his cock through the toy at rapid, superspeed. Lifting his hips off the bed as if roughly drilling into your tight heat. Peter’s cock throbs as powerful surges of electricity erupt in the pit of his belly. Glossy, white streaks of cum spill from his tip, flooding over the toy. Dripping down the squishy sides of it. His cum stuffs the inside full, coating his dick in its stickiness. Peter thrusts his cock fast enough to appear a blur, until he’s completely spent.
Lying in a sweaty heap over his blankets, Peter pants easy breaths. Tousled, silver hair rests messily over his head. He pulls the stroker from his cock, and slick cum trails after it. Wet and thick against his softening dick. He throws his head back into the bed, taking a moment to compose himself.
It’s really crazy that he’s thinkin’ about you like this, isn’t it? He’s honestly really embarrassed by it. Peter grabs the polaroid and stares at it longingly, unable to suppress the grin pressing into his dimple. Damn. He just can’t help himself. No matter what, he’s kinda ride or die for you.
If only he had the balls to tell you up front.
Peter gazes at the photo for a few seconds too long. Lost in the sight of your sexy body again. You’re such a goddamn knockout. He guides his attention to his dick to find…he’s rock hard again? Seriously? Dropping his head onto the bed, Peter groans with agonizing frustration. He just can’t catch a break, can he? Why’s he always gotta be so antsy, so on edge, or so horny all the time??
A faint sound, like creaking wood, graces his ears. Peter tilts his head up instantly.
Only to be greeted by none other than the unexpected sight of you.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck-
You’re standing in his ( mom’s ) basement with your mouth agape. A faint indication of blush paints your cheeks, though he can barely see it. Peter should be moving. He should do what a speedster naturally would do in this kinda situation: Clean up and dress himself in less than a blink’s time. Just to play innocent afterwards. Maybe he could gaslight you into thinking you didn’t watch him get his rocks off.
But he’s stunned to the point of being frozen. Neither of you make a single move. Except for Peter’s dick. It twitches subconsciously in his lap, catching your attention. And your eyes widen further.
He really should’ve gone to the Bahamas. Peter’s betting those beaches are seriously bangin’ at this time of year.
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sednonamoris · 1 year
Text
let me love the lonely out of you
Pairing: John Price x gn!reader
Summary: Faced with your first off-duty Christmas in years, you’re excited to go home and see family. When it seems like Price doesn’t feel the same, you make sure he gets his fill of holiday cheer by coming home with you.
Warnings: Language, pure unfettered fluff with little to no plot lol
Word count: 2,162
A/N: Technically follows the events of this fic, but you don’t have to have read it to get the point
It starts off, as so many things do, with an innocent question.
“And how do you celebrate Christmas, Captain?” from Gaz across the rec room where he’s tormenting everyone with similar interrogations over his game of ping pong. 2-1 right now. Soap is losing.
Tucked into a loveseat in the corner of the room with a book you’ve been trying to finish for the past month, their banter has mostly been background noise. Now your ears perk up, though you keep your eyes on the page.
Price lets out a puff of air from where he stands reffing the game, drags a hand through his beard. His silence is punctuated by the tic, tac of the lads’ current stalemate.
“Quietly,” he finally says, “and away from you lot.”
Gaz and Soap both start in with their heckling immediately, which Price reciprocates in his usual manner. But a quick peek over your paperback reveals a strained humor in his eyes, and you suddenly wonder if he has anyone back home to celebrate with. A frown twists your lips at the thought. Cold-blooded killer you may be, but no one should spend the holidays alone.
Especially since you and Price are… well. You’re something. Sneaking around base to have sex without alerting the other members of your squad hardly needs a label, but it’s more than that. To call him your boyfriend feels juvenile, and ‘partner’ is terrifyingly official.
So you call him ‘Captain’ in public and ‘John’ in private and wonder if Christmas in Ireland might suit him instead.
“What about Hound?” Soap turns the question on you. Gaz takes the opportunity to score again.
You shoot a flat stare over the top of your book. “What about me?”
“Come on,” he drags the syllables out, “how do you celebrate?”
“Not in fucking England, I can tell you that.”
Gaz gasps in faux-offence. Soap cackles and manages to win a point while his opponent is distracted.
It’s Price who looks over at you with a question in his eyes, one that you tilt your head towards the door in answer. Five minutes later he tells the lads that this has been fun, but he’s got paperwork to attend to. Surely they can manage the score on their own from here. 5-4. Soap is still losing. Ten minutes after that you mark your book, have a stretch, and leave the tic, tac, tic of the ping pong game and Soap’s impassioned defence of MacTavish holiday traditions behind.
Price waits for you in his office. He’s perched with arms folded on the edge of his desk. You lean in the doorway to admire his broad frame and the way he looks at you, but there’s an uncharacteristic hesitation in the air. You’re not sure how to say this.
“What is it, love?” he asks.
You duck your head at how easily the endearment rolls off his tongue, cross the room and cup a hand to his cheek. His whiskers are scratchy beneath your palm. You spend a moment idly rubbing your thumb across his skin just to feel the texture when he reaches up with his own hand to cover yours, warm and calloused and terribly sweet. When you look into his eyes you think you could melt into that blue, let the cerulean sea whisk you on its currents with no lifeboat or anchor.
“Come home with me,” you say. It doesn’t come out a question so much as a request.
He blinks in surprise. “Neither of us has had leave over Christmas in years.”
“I know, and if you have plans with your family I would never keep you from them. But if you don’t,” you forge ahead, mustering up all of your courage, “you’re more than welcome to join mine.”
For the holidays. Forever. You’re not picky.
John Price looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. Like you’re a wonder. A smile he can’t seem to help tugs crooked at his teeth as he melts further into your touch.
“I’d love to.”
--
You’ve completed covert operations in sweltering desert conditions and full gear without sweating this much. Quite frankly it’s embarrassing, especially given the cool December temperatures that have everyone else buttoned up and rosy-cheeked.
It’s just that you’re nervous. In all your years on this earth you’ve never once brought someone home to meet your grandfather.
The house that normally feels so welcoming looms ahead as you linger at the end of the drive. There’s a bushy wreath on the door that you’re sure Mrs. Murphy from nextdoor brought over, and the lights young Davey on the corner hangs every year glow soft and warm in the early evening light. The ‘Welcome’ sign you gifted your grandfather three Christmases ago leans up against the post box that’s still crooked where you backed into it as a wild youth on a brand-new license.
Nostalgia sinks its claws into you, but still you can’t take that first step.
“Does your granddad know we’re coming?” Price asks. His distraction is perfectly timed, coupled with an arm around your shoulders. He takes the leap for you both, and you can feel some of the dread ease out of your body at his touch.
“No.” You never tell him when you’re coming - his favourite surprise, he calls your visits.
“Are you trying to give him heart failure?” his brows are raised, caught between surprise and amusement.
“Your man lived through a World War. Showing up at his doorstep unannounced on Christmas Eve is hardly the worst surprise he’s gotten.”
Price laughs, but there’s a stitch of concern between his brows when he looks over at you.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks softly when you reach the door.
“I’ve… never done this before,” you admit with an awkward smile.
He mirrors the expression with a tenderness in his gaze that makes your heart ache. “Me either. Shall we?”
You square your shoulders and give the old mahogany three smart raps that your grandfather would know anywhere. There’s a commotion behind the door as he shuffles to get it, and then it opens to your favourite gap-toothed smile in all the world.
“My darlin’, you made it!” he exclaims.
“Happy Christmas, Old Man!” you say with a bright smile. “I brought you a Brit to bully.”
Nerves forgotten, you all but launch into your grandfather’s waiting embrace. When you pull apart he’s quick to give Price the same treatment.
“This is Captain John Price,” you introduce as they clasp hands, “and this is my dear Old Man.”
“I’ve heard all about you, son,” your grandfather says with a twinkle in his eye. “This one says you’ve been enjoying my biscuits.”
You cough awkwardly and move everyone along inside, but don’t miss the shade of pink that dusts Price’s cheeks and the tips of his ears when he mutters a yes, sir, thank you, sir.
“Come in, come in, I’ve just put on a kettle.” Your grandfather eyes Price with the disdain and suspicion only a true old Irishman can muster. “We’ve no English Breakfast, so best get used to an Irish brew.”
You cackle bright and loud as he wastes no time taking the piss out of poor Price, who looks like he can’t decide if this is the best or worst thing that’s ever happened to him.
The kitchen is just as half-clean and kitschy as it’s always been. Mismatched dishware and loudly printed wash rags occupy every space that’s not taken over by unread mail or plates of holiday goodies the neighbors have dropped by. The kettle sings on the stove, caught just in time, and you make sure to snag the chipped candy cane mug that’s always been your favourite.
You turn to find Price staring.
Not at you, but everything. The walls are littered with pictures of you; as a child lined up for your first (and last) Irish Dance recital, as a teen with bad hair posed next to the clunker of a car you bought yourself, as a beaming young soldier with your squadmates after a successful mission. Your medals for exemplary service are inlaid on velvet and framed next to an old Polaroid of your grandfather holding you as just a wee thing, still in nappies.
There’s so much love in this house, hanging on the walls and poured in steaming mugs and squished into too-tight hugs.
There are other pictures, other children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, but it’s painfully obvious who reciprocates that love. Who still comes around and who keeps the table and heart of an old man full. When he turns to meet your gaze Price has a misty look in his eyes that punches the air from your lungs.
Did he ever feel this kind of love growing up? Is it too late for you to give it to him now?
Your grandfather shuffles back in with his arms full of something bright and hideous to break the moment. He holds them out to reveal the ugliest jumpers you’ve ever seen.
“Can’t get in the Christmas spirit without a proper set of civvies,” you grin and toss the larger of the two over to Price.
It’s fire truck red and has a knitted reindeer pattern complete with bells sewn onto sleighs. There’s a soft jingle as he clutches it to his chest. Yours isn’t any better; an alarming shade of green covered in dancing elves.
You’re both quick to change. Price steps out with his arms wide for inspection, one he passes with flying colours if the smile on your grandfather’s face is anything to go by. He’s being a terribly good sport. You can feel how sappy your own smile is as you watch them together.
He herds you and Price back into the kitchen where somehow a space has been cleared for baking gingerbread men. It’s a Christmas Eve tradition that has carried on from year to year, but neither you nor your grandfather are particularly suited to the task.
You make up for it with attitude.
Somewhere between, “That’s too many eggs,” and, “Are you sure we have enough molasses?” and, “Get your fingers out of that bowl! We haven’t even rolled the dough out yet,” you manage to get a viable batch on a baking tray. They are perhaps the most misshapen, lopsided effort yet, but when you see the smile on Price’s face when he bites into one fresh out of the oven you decide they’re the best all the same.
As you stand around the kitchen waiting for the last batch to finish, your grandfather chatters away about all the neighborhood gossip you’ve missed out on lately. You gasp in outrage at all the appropriate moments, and even Price chimes in with a smart remark or two that send you all into fits of laughter.
You thought it would be jarring, seeing him in your childhood home like this, but it fits. In a way you can’t explain, Price belongs here.
You only hope he feels it, too.
As the evening grows older everyone migrates from around the kitchen counter to the sitting room, where Nat King Cole sings Christmastime into the air through the old record player your grandfather has had for decades. The tree lights up the room, plastic branches gleaming with multi-coloured lights and an eclectic assortment of ornaments. On sunken couch cushions your old man regales Price with wild tales from your youth. You’d be embarrassed if they didn’t look so happy. Content, even. Price hasn’t been this relaxed in a long, long time now. You try to memorize how it looks on him.
It’s well into the night when your grandfather announces he’s off to bed. There’s a twinkle in his eye when he tells you to behave, both you and Price stuttering out awkward reassurances that only make him laugh.
“Thank you,” Price says into the quiet when just the two of you are left.
The lights from the tree shine in his eyes as he looks at you with something treacherously close to love. You hope it’s love.
“What for?”
“Everything. I haven’t had a Christmas like this…” he smiles in that self-deprecating way that breaks your heart. “Well, it’s been a long time.”
You reach out to squeeze his hand. “I couldn’t let you be alone. Not on Christmas.”
Not ever. Not if you can help it.
He squeezes your hand back, then slowly pulls you to your feet. His sleigh bells jingle softly as he walks backwards and leads you into a clumsy dance. ‘The Christmas Song’ croons in the background. The dance ends up an unpracticed sway, your arms wrapped around each other and your head tucked into his chest. You stay like that even after the song ends and the scratchy sound of empty vinyl takes over.
“Happy Christmas, John,” you kiss the words into the fabric of his jumper.
“Happy Christmas, love.”
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woah-uhuh-uhuh-uhuh · 7 months
Text
Christine Canigula was socially ostracized & developed a complex to protect herself: an essay
(suddenly i NEED to infodump about Christine actually so here)
Something I only noticed on rewatch: the way Christine will say something silly and then just kind of gingerly wait to see if Jeremy reacts well to it before continuing, almost like she's asking permission?? (e.g. the gap after the first stanza of "Play Rehearsal"). And it's only after he riffs off her bowling alley bit that she feels comfortable talking about her personal feelings with him (right before "Guy that I'd Kinda be Into"). The same happens with their "weird noise" exchange immediately before "It's pretty killer to sit and chat with you." I know theater relies on being succinct, and that 'bonding over shared quirks' and 'feelings talk' are both just crucial parts of relationship development... but I don't think it's a coincidence that it always goes in that order!
It's like Jeremy has to pass these *trials of weirdness* before she feels safe opening up to him and it drives me BONKERS so I wrote a whole 1000 word thing about it under the cut and this got too massive and I'm sorry. Also some autistic Jeremy meta at the end if that sweetens the pot hehehe
Table of contents:
Why she was ostracized
How she was ostracized
How that might inform her pattern of relationship development with Jeremy and Jake
How gender caused Jeremy's experiences to differ from hers, and how that affects their current relationships with "popularity" and peer acceptance.
1. Why she was ostracized
I am just so certain that Christine has been bullied or at least majorly outcast for a lot of her life. She's very obviously neurodivergent and because of that she can have these obnoxiously deep and repetitive interests, she can't judge if a piece of information will be genuinely interesting to someone, and she doesn't take social cues very well.
She frequently interrupts people when they're talking (an ADHD symptom btw), even when they're literally talking to her about the thing she wants to hear!
(C: "Do you find that? Because I totally find that!" J: "Uh, yeah, I-" C: "-And no matter how hard I try....")
(J: "I know the last thing I deserve is another shot, but-" C:"Jeremy, just... say what's on your mind.") (girl I'm sorry but that's what he was doing..... I have a whole other thoughtpiece on how this particularly fucks with Jeremy while they're dating but thats another thing...)
She doesn't seem confident in her interpretations of people's emotions and she'll ask/talk about them point blank (both theirs and her own) in a way a lot of people would find rude
("Uh, you seem really nervous...") ("Popular people are fucked up! *mutual laughter* …I mean, you're one of them!") ("I am flattered, this is new / still I'm not sure what I should do" <- as a response to getting asked out, that's pretty bold! Plus the entire part where she laughs at Jake's "rich boy routine") (also compare and contrast to Jeremy's "I don't know what I'm supposed to say right now." idk. are your allistic stage dorks in the room with us right now motherfuckers)
I'd go on about her hyperfixations/special interests too but I think Play Rehearsal pretty much sums it up lol
2. How she was ostracized
All this to say that I am CERTAIN she spent a lot of her schooling having "nice girls" patiently let her sit with them at lunch for weeks at a time until they finally get sick of her rambling and faux pas. Only when they leave does Christine realize that they didn't actually care about anything she said... And this happens over and over and over. (I know this seems hella specific but I swear it's an actual phenomenon... at least I'm pretty sure? sdjflksjf)
But anyway, it's clear that by the time they're juniors, Christine has kind of (and I do only mean kind of) figured out what behaviour other people respond poorly to. And from evidence I stated in the intro, I think she's become really careful about which people she lets herself get attached to. She doesn't want this to ever happen again - which means if she's going to hang out with someone, she has to know that they actually care about her, that they know she will sometimes be obnoxious or blunt, and they'll still be okay with that forever.
3. Applying this to her canon relationships
You can extend this to Jake, someone who sees her in her element in drama rehearsal (the thing everyone finds annoying about her because she won't shut up about it) and STILL likes her. I think it's a totally valid reading that her bluntness with him later ("Upgrade") is just because she misreads him / doesn't quite get the social standard that she should be white lying instead. But I think you could also read her as testing the waters. If she's really going to commit to dating this guy, she's gotta know he's okay with her being herself. And the fact that this guy (and I think it's significant that he is a boy, for reasons I'll explain in the end note) genuinely seems to like her is a whole new level of peer validation ("I am flattered, this is new") -- so of course she's gonna fall at least a little! It doesn't hurt that he's "tired of being the person that everyone thinks that I am..." just like her!
Her history with being pity-liked makes Chloe's "advice," that Jake's just toying with her and is going to move on soon, even scarier, because that's genuinely happened to her (on a platonic level) so many times before.
Jeremy is also a good candidate from the beginning because he's weird he's a weirdo he doesn't fit in and he doesn't wanna fit in you ever see him without this stupid cardigan on? that's weird! And she keeps warming up to him not only because they're getting to know each other but because he gets progressively more willing to not only tolerate (as Jake does) but *participate* in her weirdness!
First, she does something weird and he tolerates it ("Play Rehearsal"); the next time she's weird, he participates! (bowling ball before GTIKBI). Then finally finally finally he initiates the weirdness and lets her join in! ("weird noises" exchange before GTIKBI reprise).
And notably, it is THIS moment that canonically signifies that they've hit the apex of their canon relationship development. If there was an achievement called "Befriend Christine," it would have popped up right then and there!!!
IN CONCLUSION: YOUR HONOR I LOVE THEM T_T
4: Christine vs. Jeremy: Gender differences & how that ultimately impacts their social goals
I also think all of this would have happened to Jeremy too if he'd been a girl. But because, generally, young boys feel less social obligation than girls to take pity on the autistic kid (and because boys tend to be more quickly recognized as autistic) he just ends up completely alone for most of his school life (Michael nonwithstanding - and yeah there's an important distinction between your childhood friend putting up with you and knowing that, woah, I guess literally nobody else ever will).
Meanwhile, Christine has had people "put up" with her, and she's SICK OF IT!
That's part of why their complexes are so different, because Christine is trying to check everyone she meets to make sure they'll be okay with her weirdness before she gets attached, Jeremy is trying to eliminate his weirdness altogether because he's never even experienced his peers listening out of *pity* so how the hell can he expect someone to ever listen to him out of *interest?*
Jeremy has never had someone pretend to like him before, so he completely lacks Christine's fear of befriending someone who secretly hates you. He doesn't realize how bad it'll hurt him if he destroys his real self for popularity, if he befriends people who would have bullied his real self. He doesn't know what disingenuous friendship feels like, so like a very young Christine he's still actively trying to get there because he thinks it's the only kind of validation he'll ever get.
Do you see what im saying? Do you see it???? AUAUGUGUUGGH
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THANK YOU FOR READING!!! If you have thoughts or even rebuttals please share i am so desperate to discuss the blorbos
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