#socially Normal or Just The Way It Of Course Works For Everyone and the like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dufferpuffer · 2 days

Note

What do you think lupin needs in a romantic partner to have a functioning/healthy relationship (as healthy as this man can manage atleast)? What qualities would this person have to have to be able to deal with all the more challenging aspects of being in a relationship with him? But also what does he want in a partner? And what would he absolutely not want?

Me. I am perfect. Remus Lupin hmu

Remus Romantic Partner pt1: Remus is needy Link to pt2: Remus is good (aint done it yet sorry)

In short: Remus Lupin needs an ANCHOR POINT to harbor his ship. 1. Someone interesting he can pour his attention into. 2. Generally up-beat/optimistic, so he has warmth to lean on. 3. Bold enough to be themselves - even if they're different. 4. Kind and accepting of other people 5. A little 'cute'. 'Quirky'. Small 'issues' support. (just a bonus, really) 6. Independent. Can live without him just fine but still want him. 7. Emotionally strong. Immense maturity and stability. 8. Doesn't have much temper, doesn't start drama or fights. Of course he doesn't need ALL of these boxes ticked - but the highlighted ones are the closest to a MUST for the relationship to even have a chance at being healthy. In long: Explanations (and example characters who I think fit) are below. B^)

Remus is an introverted man. He isn't shy (he can take charge of a room, he can speak publicly, he is good at getting people to like him) but when he isn't the focus he is a wall-flower. He doesn't talk much unless he has something to say. He is deeply, irreparably self-conscious. He has trauma of unintentionally hurting those he loves, so he keeps his distance.

((His parents became sick with the stress of having to move house every few months, find new work every few months, keeping their bank account drained... socially isolated with a son they had to lock away every Full Moon - lest he killed them. They loved him but that was a difficult thing for Remus to grow up witnessing, knowing he was the cause. Knowing him leaving for Hogwarts was the best thing to happen for their health since he was bitten... Of course he pushes people away. He can't help being sick - but he can help them not suffer... if he stays away.))

He is always thinking inwardly. He is always anxious. He wonders how he can make himself smaller, friendlier, less scary… Trying to plan how he wants others to relate to him. He tries to control how others think of him, to steer them away from the bad things... He is a wolf in wizards clothing. If he treats everyone as dolls to manipulate, and if they never know the real him... it will hurt everyone less when he leaves.

1. He needs someone who can bust him out of that toxic mindset. Someone that grabs his attention and pulls it away from himself. Someone interesting, skilled, passionate - living a life he can't achieve. Someone with knowledge or stories he can listen to at length and live a little through them... or they can even include him. More of a talker so he can be a listener, so he can focus on someone else's world - but they're also eager to hear whatever he has to say without prying. They aren't arrogant or loud: they can listen, too. Remus needs good, witty conversation over a cup of tea.

2. They need to be generally up-beat, but not in a way that'll crush his down-beat. They invite him to join in if he wants - or else lean on them like they're a heater for his troubled soul while he feels down. Sometimes he will feel bad, or flat, or tired - and they can't fix it.

I don't think he has any visual preferences. What he notices first about people are their mannerisms. He is always shaping himself to fit the room, so I think he admires people who act authentically: Boldness. Bravery. Honesty. Earnestness. Brashness. So... 3. He would be more attracted to people of subcultures and/or strong interests - or are simply out-of-the-expected-norm. I think he would be fascinated about these little nooks of belonging - alternate 'normal's' when the Wizarding world can be so rigid. (Do I think he has a preference for LGBTQIA+? Yeah. General androgyny too.)

4. Kind. Accepting. They need to be kind to others in general. Because he can't always be kind to others. He puts himself first and sometimes that hurts because he WANTS to be more kind. A partner who can pick up the slack? Who he can trust to always be kind and accepting of him - because they are such a way with everyone...? That's just a requirement, really.

5. A small thing I think he likes in particular: A cute factor. A little clumsy, A little slow, Enthusiastic, Awkward, Weak, A bit short/tall... something that isn't an issue but will pop up every now and then, distract him and make him go '...cute. That was cute.' Something he can effortlessly support. Something he can be thoughtful about, thinking of their needs rather than his own. - They struggle to read quickly? He can read out loud for them. - They tend to act impulsively? He can hold them back just enough to let them to give it a second thought. - They struggle in social situations? So he can talk on their behalf. - They keep fumbling and tripping over? He can keep them steady. It's nice to feel useful and kind in a simple, effortless way. Something so obvious to proves he isn't bad at heart - even when he feels awful.

6. They need to be Independent. What he CAN'T have is someone who NEEDS him. Oh god, the pressure… He cant be trapped. He requires a high level of independence... because he WILL FAIL. He WILL leave and break their heart over nothing. He WILL make promises he doesn't intend to keep - because he intends to run away and never look back. If they NEED him, just to stay afloat…? It will break him. He can't be the bread-winner, even if he could have a stable job. He can't be a long-term emotional support, only short-term. He needs to know that WHEN he breaks down and fucks off not 'if' - even if it's FOREVER… that they will be okay without him. 'Not being ok without him' won't make him stay. He will not 'shape up under a bit of pressure'. It will only injure him.

7. He needs someone strong enough to be forgiving. Not a self-harming, forcing yourself to forgive-and-forget either. That is a very real danger with Remus: If he got with someone who was as much a people-pleasing self-depreciator as him…? He will tear them to shreds. He is a toxic man and he requires tough gloves to handle:- Genuinely emotionally strong. Someone he can lean on, far more than they lean on him. - Wise enough to see through his bullshit manipulations and lies - with enough tact to navigate them, understanding he struggles without judgement but holding him gently accountable. - Empathetic enough to understand him even when he can't explain himself properly. - Mature enough to hold him accountable. Can help him understand how he can do better. He is filled with shame - sometimes for very good reasons that need addressing.

He will go through periods of being unable to be contacted, periods of self-endangerment… He needs somewhere, someone, he can crawl back to in shame. Who WILL talk with him seriously about things… but is willing to just let him sleep quietly for the night in their arms, for now. (Am I saying he needs to date a therapist? Yeah, basically. Dating Remus isn't easy.)

8. Doesn't start fights. Doesn't lash out. Doesn't live off of drama. Remus fits himself into situations passively - he doesn't need someone making situations more difficult to feel comfortable in. If they get angry and yell at him - he will yell one hurtful thing back and leave. He has a very limited ability withstand tension. He tries to keep a level head and a level room - he needs a partner who will support those efforts, or at least not sabotage them.

Partners I think have good chemistry, for examples:

NYMPHADORA TONKS. It is annoying how perfectly she has been made to fit Remus' needs, as she is so underutilized. I wouldn't find her as frustrating if she got more fleshing out in ways that weren't the specific things suited to being with Remus… ugh. - She is a skilled Auror, especially for her age. - She lightens the mood of any room by being playful. - She is unapologetic in being herself, accepting people with ease. - She is a bit clumsy - but capable and hugely independent. - Her ability to roll with the punches is insane: every time Remus is hot-and-cold she has both the ability to hold him responsible for how much it hurts and the strength to still stand there for him. - She is firey and doesn't back down, but she isn't trying to start fights. She's just stubborn and confident in what she has to say. To make claims like 'Remus only likes her because she can shapeshift' or whatever is just... no, its because she is perfect for him.

LUNA LOVEGOOD. Surprising, I know. Perhaps in different circumstances they could have hit it off. - Strong interests, a subculture at the edge of Wizarding society yet she is always 'uniquely' and brazenly herself. - Optimistic and up-beat... a little dreamy, air-headed, focus could use some steering sometimes. - Helpful and kind to all, even those that have been mean to her. - Very used to being alone. Independent in body and soul. Quite comfortable being alone - but friends are nice, too. - Emotional strength is a specialty of hers. Even in the worst situations she keeps her head on her shoulders and, despite how aloof she appears, is intelligent, sharp and serious. - Can make demands when she needs to - not a pushover. Bonus: An interest in magical creatures, too. :)

Close, but I think have a large flaw (that might makes them spicy):

SEVERUS SNAPE - Potions Master. Dark Arts specialist. Veteran teacher. All the steady employment and deep, fascinating interests Remus wishes he could have - along with ALSO having been a Spy... and being misunderstood. They have more in common than they don't. - He isn't optimistic, but he is a problem solver, dedicated to making things better than they are. He faces problems head on while Remus would rather curl away. - He understands feeling quiet and low. He might not be warm, but he is a softer place to rest than you'd expect. - He has never changed himself for anyone. He is stubbornly himself, even when it makes him seem like an outcast weirdo. - He has little patience. He isn't gentle or nice. But he cares enough to be kind, even to those he hates... and he is loyal. It isn't ideal for Remus but it gives him a place to fit himself: If Severus is cold, he is warm. If Severus has the quirk of being a snarky, prickly bastard - Remus is skilled at the opposite. - Independent. Accustomed to being alone. Expects to be alone. Being with someone who understands him... a little daunting, really. The main place I think Severus fails here is emotional strength. He is quick to anger and lashes out. He holds grudges. He starts shit and Remus can't handle shit. Severus needs someone who can temper those anger flares, or at least weather them - and Remus can do neither. But perhaps that is the place they can meet in the middle...?

LILY EVANS - Everyone liked her. Talented, bright and strong-willed, She was a popular girl. I think Remus liked her too, but... James and Severus. - She seems a bit cheeky, quick witted - she brightens a room when she walks in. - She was best friends with Severus for years. Maybe she had other friends in her dorm - but if they were as close to her as Severus was, they would have been HIS friends, too. She was willing to be with the outcast, even when popular. - I know it's a movie quote, but I think it still fits from Remus' POV when he says Lily was an 'uncommonly kind woman' and 'had a way of seeing the beauty in others when that person cannot see it themselves.' I think she accepted him fast and firmly. - She didn't need anyone else. She stood up to James by herself. She knew what she was worth. - She seems to prefer ending fights rather than starting them. She hates a bully. Lily doesn't have the 'grit' (for lack of a better word) to take toxicity. She hated James' bullying. She dropped Severus. She has patience and an 'I can help fix him' desire - but they need to put in the effort, too. James cleaned up his act somewhat and she liked that. Remus isn't going to fully succeed at 'fixing' himself. Not just by 'putting some effort in'. It is going to take so long, and be so slow... Severus would be far easier to 'I can help fix him' - and she couldn't handle him. !!!This isn't saying Lily is weak or something. It is incredibly HEALTHY to not being able to put up with toxic shit, to have the strength to say 'enough is enough'. That is a GOOD thing.!!!

A popular partner I DON'T think works out so easily:

SIRIUS BLACK Sirius Black is a dog. He needs people. He needs constant companionship - especially after Azkaban. He is a mess who needs support, company, loyalty... and Remus can't provide any of that with regularity! Waking up in an empty bed, in a cold room, after Remus timidly promised to 'always be there' for him but was lying... it would shatter Sirius. He doesn't have the strength or stability to lose anyone else. Sirius is honest and sticks to his guns even when times get tough. He would rather DIE than turn his back on a loved one. Remus lies unprovoked and runs away with his tail between his legs at the slightest sign of trouble. Sirius, as a traumatized man, is not going to be able to understand why Remus can just throw away everything he has to run off. How he could just leave him alone again...? Doesn't he love him?! At his worst: he is more likely to try and emotionally trap Remus with him, force him to stay - and that just isn't going to work. Remus is a Wolf. He can't be locked in. I don't even think Sirius at his best, pre-Azkaban, would fit well: - He is upbeat, but in a way that tries to break others out of their funks. It's abrasive for him to hang out with someone sad. ((I'm sure he could learn to do it but his instinct is to help.)) - He is kind - but he has a limit. When that limit is passed, his care is snapped. He holds grudges and he makes judgements. - He is not and has never been independent. He is strong-willed and confident about himself, yes - but he thrives when he is at another's side. He has always been like this Azkaban just made it worse. - He doesn't have what it takes to weather Remus' bullshit. That's not a bad thing either, he know how to cut toxic people from his life when they are too heavy - but post-Azkaban he is even more scared of losing people, which makes him vulnerable. - He starts shit. He jumps into arguments, he escalates, he enjoys the thrill and the drama of it. Remus wouldn't join in, even if he agrees with Sirius, and thus would leave him unsupported. We see this very thing happen in OotP

#love you remus #remus lupin #remus my beloved #hp #severus snape #sirius black #lily evans #headcannons #nymphadora tonks

23 notes · View notes

unproduciblesmackdown · 2 years

Text

co-quants coffee break, rian gets the his & hers coffee mugs set and gets his coffee, winston uses the leftover hers mug and says nothing to anyone then or ever but is henceforth on and off Pondering The Experience of it all

#as stated i don't much have [winston: not cis?] hcs really but there's still nonzero pondering of him pondering and perhaps even more lol...#and the hcs happen to not be either Winston Is A Trans Man or Winston Is A Trans Woman. all amongst the [Not That / other] realms #and he can certainly be cis and still go like hmm. My Gender. for one thing like he's autistic so that'd just be relevant like #you're bound to be more self conscious abt your Everything re a) how you're perceived and/or b) how you don't relate to what's considered #socially Normal or Just The Way It Of Course Works For Everyone and the like #meanwhile your boss is nonbinary like; nobody has to have any sexuality crises over everyone being taylorsexual; which is for the best #that'd get exhausting immediately and not really serve anything. but everyone can feel free to go Ah....gender; huh #winston billions #at a bare minimum winston cisly using a Hers mug would be utterly unfazed even if other ppl think he's supposed to be embarrassed #like oh another way you're so clueless abt how not to be cringe & fail & how to rather be an epic winner huh; typical #and in turn the typical way to express this would be not to say anything but do a double take / give winston &/or the whole room a Smh look #while winston would take a fucking sip babes. or take a fucking bite of some snack paired with coffee which is also cringe of him or smthing #lil concepts like maybe winston never settles on being anything but a cis man but is like I Just Think It's Neat re: non he/him pronouns #may or may not settle on not being cis but may explore sm things in the context of gnc presentation & get anything out of that #def not so much at work &/or any lasting changes to his own Look would be subtle enough to go uncommented uponst #reasonable when like different pants / shoes / shirts / watches / glasses / weights / facial hair have never gotten comments / remarks #take it back to [winston in Get Away rocket tee ft a necklace under the shirt] like nobody's gonna say anything #demigender things. try little a genderfluidity oneself. maybe some nonbinarity. agenderosity even. Things To Consider #oh and naturally maybe [sexuality?] questions re: say. having had a crush on someone who is sometimes Her sometimes Him could overlap here #like wow what if [bf] to wow what if My being her or his [gf]....

2 notes · View notes

yzzart · 5 months

Note

Love your Tom blyth fics an unhealthy amount!!! I’m picturing reader and Tom being all lovey dovey at the premiers but playing it off as really good bestfriends UNTIL she goes to kiss him on the cheek and in instinct he turns his head to kiss her on the lips so they just say fuck it and hard launch there and then x

"An unplanned situation."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader

summary: a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.

word count: 1.359!

notes: i started this request in the morning and only had the opportunity to finish it a few minutes ago, forgive me for that, anon! — i hope you like it and of course, feel free to share ideas with me!

"Y/N, look here!"

Another request, among others, screams and countless flashes, was directed to you; being, theoretically, almost impossible to identify who had demanded your image. — There were so many voices mixing, not to mention the music in the background, but, you tried your best to pay attention to most of the cameras.

However, it wasn't anything you weren't used to; something that has already been normalized in your life.— And during the premiere of The ballad of songbirds and snake it was no different, and it was splendid; simply perfect. — Not to mention, the feeling of gratitude that grew in your chest.

Cameras and cell phones captured your every movement, your poses and the way your perfectly chosen dress was valued and highlighted on your body. — And how it matched the color palette of the film. — Everything was being recorded, at the exact moment, posted and commented on all social networks.

You had the opportunity to meet, talk and take photos with some of the cast. — It was so pleasant, the company and unity that everyone developed during the filming of the film was inexplicable and so adorable; you were grateful to have worked with so many talented people. — There were some people who were absent, until now, in your eyes, but you would definitely meet them again on the carpet.

And, of course, your eyes roamed the decorated room, matching the elements of the film, and crowded in search of a specific person. — It wasn't exaggerated words to say that you were starting to feel uncomfortable because he was missed; and the cameras recorded it. — Silent questions, which would be written, formed in the minds of the presenters and photographers.

Your boyfriend had yet to appear on the red carpet; perhaps he is giving a quick and curious interview or greeting someone. — That's what was going on in your head.

You and Tom had a secret relationship, ever since you met behind the scenes, in front of the world and all the cameras that may exist in it; something that was so risky and at the same time adventurous. — And that, as incredible as it might seem, you knew how to disguise it in front of your fans; even though they gradually became suspicious with comments, interactions and behind-the-scenes photos.

They were either smart or you and Tom were too far over the line. — This question was not important or essential for the moment. — And you considered each other best friends for interviews or responses to comments; you tried your best.

And so, Rachel sent countless screenshots of tweets, which talked about or mentioned the relationship between you and Tom, to you. — It's impossible to deny how funny it was.

Persisting in continuing to look for him and for a few seconds, your eyes meet his blue and so charming irises. — Its shade of blue was a magnificent and beautiful combination; something you would never get tired of admiring. —And there was no other thing, or anyone, that could take his eyes off you.

As if the only thing that mattered at that moment was you. — And everything around him simply disappeared.

"There you are!" — Tom walked towards you, easily as there weren't so many people on the carpet, and an enthusiastic smile forming on his lips; also accompanied by cameras and intense flashes. — "And so beautiful!"

Holding a part of your long and dazzling dress so as not to hinder your steps, you met him, and without wasting any time, hugged him. — A common gesture, and not so different or strange, for the spectators; so, you thought. — Tom's arms went around your waist, holding your protectively for a little while, while your arms positioned themselves around his neck.

Tom's fragrance, which you liked so much, filled your nose; it felt so good, and you felt your eyes weaken, contaminated by it. — And the british man was aware of that.

"You look perfect, always." — The older man distanced himself, just a little, and brought his face closer to your ear, wanting only you to hear. — "The most beautiful woman that has ever crossed my eyes." — The lenses probably captured a reddish pigmentation on your cheeks and it was not part of your makeup.

You placed one of your hands on his chest, and looking directly into his eyes; that shone at you, and it wasn't just because of the influence of the lights in your direction. — Tom's gaze was sincere, and passionate, intensely fascinating you. — He conveyed what he felt most with just his eyes.

And that was one of the facts about him that you were passionate about and recognized very well.

"Oh, shut up!" — Raising your hand and resting it a little away from your mouth, you laughed a little embarrassed and looked back at the cameras; remembering that they remained there and you knew that later you would see your interaction with Tom on some social media.

Again, a thing and situation you were used to.

"Look at that camera!" — A voice mingled among others, which requested the same request, asking you to take some photos together; something that would feed news, fans and press.

At no point, minute or second, did you and Tom remain distant or apart from each other; always a few steps close, hugging each other for photos and certain looks, completely indiscreet. — Even during brief interviews, as Blyth mentioned you or your character's work, you were silently watching. — One of the interviewers even commented on how cute she thought it was.

Tom's hand was on your waist, holding and almost covering you, making a quick caress in a few seconds and one of your hands was still resting on his chest; and you continued, of course, to be the focus of the cameras.

Quickly, with the intention of changing your pose and trying something new and also to take advantage of the fact that Blyth's face was almost close to yours, you decide to place your pigmented lips on his cheeks. — Such a cute and friendly gesture, and so common. —But, automatically and hastily, Tom turned his face away at the same time, without having in mind what you were, in fact, planning. — God, it was a shock; an absurd and completely intense shock.

For the first time that night, in that place and on those cameras, your lips touched Tom's lips. — It was very quick, good and surprising; and that definitely left a cold, freezing air in your belly accompanied by a desperate feeling in your mind. — Rumor has it that smoke was coming out of his head. — It was a peck, a quick and simple kiss.

When you separated, hurriedly, your eyes met Tom's once again; who were a little wide-eyed, expressing surprise. — Looking for something to say or do, just like you. — And you watched his lips curve into an almost smile, as if he was trapping him.

Shouts of enthusiasm and some possible whistles echoed throughout the immense place, along with some looks and expressions of surprise at what had happened. — And some people were worried if they had recorded the exact moment, of course. — Your fans were probably commenting frantically about what happened.

You really didn't know what to do but at no point did you move away from your boyfriend — now, official to the public — and keep your hand on his chest; as if it were, in fact, planned.

"A nice way to reveal it, huh?" — Tom laughed, relaxed and without a feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, he still had his hand on your waist; and he still squeezed you, then leaving you with another caress. — "I think." — He didn't look at the cameras, his orbits focused only on you.

They have always focused on you, regardless of what is actually happening; and that will never change.

"A nice way to reveal." — You repeated your words, but, as an affirmation and certainty; maybe, seeing how relieved Tom was, and not showing some kind of distress, your chest calmed down and you felt safe.

And soon, you and Tom became one of the most talked about topics on social media.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

4K notes · View notes

rory-cakes · 2 months

Text

Alastor's Birdy

Alastor wasn’t a good man.

In fact, he was no longer a man at all.

He was the Radio Demon, an overlord of hell, owner of souls, and host of the Hazbin Hotel.

The only evidence that he was ever human was the gold band worn around his ring finger. No one seemed to notice it; if they did, they didn’t dare ask.

Not much was known about the terrifying radio demon. The others at the hotel often wondered about the origins of the great Alastor Altruist.

Well, not until Mimzy comes along.

“Alastooor, Sweetie, doll-face! So good to see you. How’ve ya been? Good? Good.”

Alastor hugs the small woman while everyone stares in confusion.

“Listen, I was in the neighborhood! I heard you were staying at this ritzy ditzy slob factory-”

A glint of gold catches the light.

“Oh! By the way, where’s your little birdy?”

Alastor’s who? The confusion only continued to grow in the room.

“Oh, Mimzy, you know she would never have ended up down here.”

Who are they talking about?

“Ah yes, she was such a kind soul. The best of the best.”

Finally, someone asks.

“Yo! Lady! Who ya talkin' about?”

“His missus, of course!”

His what?

“YOU WERE MARRIED?!”

Alastor’s eye twitched as private information about his life came to light.

“I am married; we never divorced.”

Everyone stared in disbelief. How could anyone marry Alastor, of all people?

Wait-

“You said she would never have ended up down here. Does that mean that your wife is in heaven? Is she an angel?”

“Charlie, don’t be ridiculous! No one that good could have married him!”

Mimzy pipes up,

“She’s right. Y/n Altruist was too good for the world and sang like a canary!”

That she did…

“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into

Them there eyes

You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with

Them there eyes”

All eyes gazed upon the stage. His little birdy was much like him in how they entranced others with their voices. If all he heard for the rest of eternity was that beautiful song of hers, then he could die a happy man.

“They make me feel happy

They make me blue

No stallin', I'm fallin'

Going in a great big way for sweet little you”

It was never supposed to last. It was just for a while to make him seem more normal. To hide his less than socially acceptable hobbies. But she was light, and he was a moth to a flame. As he felt the weight of the box in his hand he wondered how someone like him got blessed with someone like her.

“My heart is jumpin', you sure started something with

Them there eyes

You'd better watch them if you're wise

They sparkle, they bubble

They're gonna get you in a whole lot of trouble

You're overworkin' them, there's danger lurkin' in

Them there eyes”

Her eyes brightened as they landed on him sitting at his usual table in the back. He was done with work early and had come to pick her up so they could walk home together.

“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into

Them there eyes

You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with

Them there eyes”

HIS. She was his. He was hers. They were each others.

The only proof that Alastor was ever human was the gold band around his ring finger.

A/N: Here's the fic lol @mag-chan

part 2

2K notes · View notes

harmoonix · 2 months

Text

🍄 Retro - Astro 🍄

(Astrology Observations)

ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯

🍄 - I love to stare in the eyes of the natives with Neptune - Asc aspects, most of my friends have such aspects and they truly have beautiful eyes

🍄 - Pluto in Sagittarius Generation is really meant to give and normalize things back to normal, and for example bringing things that were used in the past and to normalize them again

🍄 - Wanna know why so many Aquarius Suns may act so different and unique? Sun is ruled by Leo and Aquarius is its opposite sign so sun acts different in Aquarius

🍄 - Neptune and Mercury aspects can indicate love for music and most times for old music or old music style, you know liking those songs from the 90's

🍄 - One fast way to learn your sign houses in your birth chart is to know the order of the zodiac signs, this method worked with me for example you have Gemini Rising and Leo Sun > Your sun will be in the 3rd house because Leo is 1 sign (Cancer) apart from Gemini

🍄 - 8°, 20° degrees on the Midheaven attract jealousy really fast, envy too and sometimes can even get hate without a reason, on the other hand people can become obsessed with them

🍄 - Sagittarius in your 4th/12th house axis can come from more nationalities/ethnicity/race like having more than 1 background country ancestry (or your ancestors/family members)

🍄 - Lilith in your 9th/12th or 4th house can indicate ancestors or family members working with the occult/witchcraft/magic/tarot etc...

🍄 - Sun in the 12th house natives have an ongoing karma, basically they are working on their karma constantly

🍄 - Virgo Moon's beauty is underatted, they are so beautiful and they can actually look younger because of the Mercury's youth effect

🍄 - I remember once checking on google about Jupiter in Virgo husband (my sidereal Jupiter placement) and I got this:

I can't tell if this is real or not tbh 😭😭

🍄 - Neptune aspecting Chiron will literally empower your subconscious with a lot of intuition, spirituality like you really have the chance to heal your subconscious in case is hurt with those placements

🍄 - Everyone I know with Cancer Placements gets so DEPRESSED based on the weather, and omg I'm not joking or something if the weather outside is bad they're gonna be depressed or in a bad mood

🍄 - Every time I see someones chart with 10th house placements especially Sun and Venus there I know they got the cash bag 💰💰

🍄 - Not gonna lie knowing how organized Virgo placements are, I think natives with Virgo in the 4th house have the most most most most most most organized house-castle ever just like in Cinderella and everything looking perfect

🍄 - You can spot health problems in a chart by looking at their 6th house sign (both in tropcial and sidereal) looking at the ruler/lord of the 6th house and of course the planets (if there are) in the 6H house

🍄 - Stelliums play a very big role in a chart (A stellium is when you have 3 or more than 3 planets in a house) and indicates a big focus in that area

🍄 - Empty houses play a very big role as well, and an empty house is not a bad thing or something but spirituality talking it indicates an area you already completed in your past life

🍄 - Let me tell you how tricky Venus in Capricorn can be to make you fall in love with matured enough people and sometimes the karma comes and strikes and says "They're not the one for you"

🍄 - Moon in the 9th house is another tricky placement to have because in harsh aspects it can indicate a religious trauma and sometimes it can indicate love for religion/beliefs you understand what I mean...😭😭

🍄 - A lot of people who happens to get betrayed have Pluto/Saturn Lilith and sometimes Neptune in the 11th house, (I know all the people can get betrayed but these are just some indicators

🍄 - Sagittarius/Jupiter in the 11th house can be blessed with friends or in general having luck with their friendships and social networks, sometimes their friends can come from a different background than them

🍄 - Mercury at 10°, 22° degrees really can have a deeper voice than others (depends on aspects) but their voice is so damn attractive

🍄 - Uranus and Lilith in the 5th house can get confused if they will want or not to have kids like is difficult and in the same time draining for them (Lilith in general in that house natives don't want kids but is just my thoughts on it)

🍄 - Sagittarius Midheaven/Midheaven in the 9th house or in Sagittarius Degrees 9°, 21° really need to chose something the job/career they're passionate about because it grants them luck

🍄 - Midheaven at Aries Degrees 1°, 13°, 25° or MC in Aries have a big chance to get a leader position at their job or having the main character energy

🍄 - I tell you Gemini Moons and Moon in the 3rd house natives have the best tea ("Tea" as a gen z slang means gossip) like gossips stories i honestly wonder from where or who they know so many things im so invested y'all 😭😍

🍄 - 2nd house and the Moon Sign represent food in the birth chart, and I know water/earth ones love sweets so much

🍄 - If you want to know more about your true self check your Ascendant ruler persona chart, AND if you have 2 planets rulers check both persona charts for ex if you are Scorpio Risings check your Mars and Pluto persona charts, sadly for Leo Risings their natal chart is pretty much their true self (There is no Sun persona chart😭)

🍄 - Leo in the 7th house can have the same problem like your natal chart pretty much tells you about your future spouse because there is no Sun persona chart to look for in case you wanna look for your 7th house ruler persona chart 😭

🍄 - Cancer Risings in your D9 (vedic) chart can indicate a nurturing spouse or in general your partner has a very nurturing and kind energy

🍄 - I admire 6th house Placements for how much they want to keep themselves healthy like is a top priority and i respect that so much, because your health matters so much in life ♥️♥️♥️🙌🏼

🍄 - Aries Placements especially Aries Juno I love their energy. They just give that leader and confident/powerful vibe (boss vibe) in the chart also someone very bold and funny I love them

🍄 - Draconic Chart is the chart of your soul before reincarnation/coming to earth and the placements are indicating how your soul expected to be on earth (like their life), and im gonna cry I have Saturn in the 7th house in this chart as well. my soul knew I will have to wait for that specific person to come 😭 I'm done...

🍄 - Mercury in the 11th house makes socially open natives they get along so good with most people because of their social skills, they're also smart, creative and very open minded too

🍄 - Pluto in the 12th house has a chance to become very powerful in this life because this placement usually indicates an painful karma, you will certainly experience a lot of good and bad things in your current life

💝 This post was more like at a spiritual level 💝

Be blessed you all who read my observations 💝

ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯ྉ☯

1K notes · View notes

redbullgirly · 3 months

Text

Million Dollar Man [LS18 smau]

Lance Stroll x reader [social media au]

Masterlist

Summary: Lance's girlfriend isn't afraid to show how much her boyfriend loves and spoils her. Unfortunately, "fans" seem to think she's a gold digger. But who would Lance and Y/N bee if they just let it slide?

Warnings: A lot of hate towards the reader by online trolls and just toxic fans, at the end she and Lance shuts them up but if you're not in the right head-space to read this, then please don't.

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lance_stroll, fernandoalo_oficial, astonmartin and 192,344 others

tagged: astonmartin and lance_stroll

yourusername life lately... how about you? 🍰💐

view all 3209 comments

user1 more like: life lately 💸💸💸

user2 LOL

lance_stroll life lately has been great ❤️

liked by the author

user3 Lance don't worry we're going to save you!!

user4 our guy is lyinggggg i can feel it

user5 Oh my god let them live a happy life you trolls🤦‍♀️

user6 how can you know it's happy when she clearly uses him for money?🤨

user5 And how can you know it's not? Besides I don't think she uses him for anything🤷‍♀️

user4 then your just as naive as him user5 lol

user7 she's so classy a love it!😻

user8 Can she even drive or she just wanted to take a photo in his car?

fernandoalo_oficial You are slaying Queen!😉

fernandoalo_oficial Did I do it correctly yourusername?

yourusername it's great nando, just please never use that emoji again and you'll be ready do graduate from my gen-z university!

fernandoalo_oficial Damn it I knew all you use these days is this one: 💀

yourusername 💀

user9 OKAY I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ANYONE SAYS ABOUT HER AND LANCE CAUSE I LOVE Y/N AND NANDO INTERACTIONS MORE THAN MY OWN LIFE!!

user10 i'm convinced she holds both aston drivers hostage in her basement and is forcing them to comment on her posts

user11 It's probably not even her own basement but Lance's😭

user12 nah she ain't even that pretty

user13 omg no way this post is the way I found out lance mf stroll has a girlfriend?🤠

user14 GIRL you have so much lore to catch up on

user15 Yeah welcome to the worst wag ever fandom xd

user13 wait I'm so confused... why do we hate her???

user14 bc she's basically a gold digger, like from the moment her and lance started dating she's been posting only about shopping and showing off herself and her bf's money

user12 plus she ugly af

user15 Yeah and there are rumors on twitter about her being really mean to everyone and that the whole paddock hates her and stuff...

user13 okay I get that but tbh we can't believe everything that's on f1 twitter

user14 idc she's a bitch even without the rumors

user15 I can tell Y/N is trying so hard to have the rich girly aesthetic... it's actually embarrassing😂

astonmartin Wow you have a great car right there😍

user16 more like her sugar daddy lance has it lol XD

user17 guys be fr if you had a rich boy you'd be spending his money too!!!

twitter

yourusername and lance_stroll posted on instagram stories

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by estabanocon, lance_stroll, astonmartinf1 and 206,948 others

tagged: astonmartinf1 and lance_stroll

yourusername thank you spa for having me! what a race, congrats to my favourite driver lance_stroll on p9 & his teammate fernandoalo_oficial on p5! great team work, hope to see you on another grand prix in the future astonmartinf1 💚🏆

view all 4022 comments

astonmartinf1 we hope to see you on another grand prix as well Y/N!🤩

liked by the author

user1 you don't have to lie admin, it's waste of money on her... better give the paddock pass to someone else

astonmartinf1 well, we definitely won't give it to you user1, so no need to worry about it 😙

user2 daaaamn, the admin is coming for y'all haters

user3 Of course she had to wear the racing suit... c'mon that's so embarrassing🙄

user4 actually it's pretty normal, I'm pretty sure Max's gf also wore his racing suit at some point

user3 Yeah but I at least like and respect Kelly... Y/N is a horrible gold digger

user4 well then I'm pretty sure it's your problem, not hers🤷‍♀️

user5 girl stop pretending you care about racing we all know you do it just for pr and cash xdd

user6 Honestly I'm not a Lance Stroll fan, but he deserves someone better than her...

lance_stroll Thank you to my favourite wag! 🥳❤️

yourusername love you baby!!!💞

user7 favourite wag😂 good joke😂😂

user8 am I the only one who finds their interaction cute??

user9 yeah you are user8... like just look at it, it's so forced... wouldn't be surprising if their whole relationship was fake

user10 You can hate on her all you want, but she's actually gorgeous in the third pic😻

user11 YUUUCCKK🤮🤮🤮

user12 you see I would be fine with this post if she didn't have to show off the aston martin car again!!!

user13 Hey did you notice she tagged Nando in the caption and he didn't reply to her? I call it ✨karma✨ lol

user14 maybe he escaped from her basement😭

user15 💚💚

user16 sorry but I can't help it. There's just something fishy about Y/N and I can't bring myself to like her at all

user17 Guys who is this girl and why does she get more hate in her comments than hailey bieber??💀

user18 I hate how she makes the whole Grand Prix about herself

user19 no but fr... like honey, idc about you and your favourite driveeer

user20 Tf?? She literally called LANCE her favourite driver how is that about her... you haters are so dumb🤦‍♀️

user21 I bet she read the comments on twitter about how she's bad gf for not going to any races and decided to fix her image by this XD

user19 lmfao didn't probably work the way she hoped

messages between Y/N and Lance

lance_stroll posted on instagram

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel, f1 and 330,219 others

tagged: yourusername

lance_stroll As some of you now, I am not very active on social media. Today I'm making an exception for Y/N, my lovely girlfriend I've been dating for almost a year now. She is one of the greatest, most kind, caring and selfless people I know. I don't know where the idea of our relationship being unhappy, one-sided or even insincere came from, but I would like to make it very clear once and for all that these assumptions are as far from the truth as they can be.

In my life, I experienced a lot of hateful comments and reactions myself. It is not something I wish anyone should have to go through and it's disgusting. I love Y/N with all my heart and I hope that one day, she'll make me the happiest man alive and allows me to marry her, build a family together. No one will ever again speak about her in an inappropriate way, or they'll be blocked and possibly face legal actions taken agains them. I am very serious about this.

Y/N, I'm not afraid to call you the love of my life. I never want to see you cry because of some meaningless hater. Love you to the moon and back, sweetheart ❤️

view all 4823 comments

user1 It's just so heartbreaking how Lance himself had to go through so many waves of hate because of his dad and now he had to watch Y/N go through it too...😓

yourusername love you to the moon and back too lance!!!💖

lance_stroll Wouldn't have it any other way honey!😌

user2 you know it's serious when sebastianvettel shows up

astonmartinf1 once the it couple, always the it couple!💚 proud to say we were never a hater😘

user3 i still think it's fake

fernandoalo_oficial and I think you are fake🤪

user4 LMAO nando come and get the haters lets goooo

user5 That's how you shut them up xd

fernandoalo_oficial how do you children say it? I AM LANCEY/N DEFENDER

user4 yeah yeah nando exactly that or you can say your a lancey/n truther

liked by fernandoalo_oficial

user5 omg I can't believe I just had online conversation with THE Fernando Alonso😭

user4 GIRL ME TOO AND HE EVEN LIKED MY COMMENT😭😭

f1 What a beautiful couple you are!🙌 Hope to see you in the paddock after summer break!😏

user6 "they'll be blocked and possibly face legal actions taken agains them" daaammmnn man is standing on business here

user7 Tbh I never understood why y'all hated on her sm she's literally so beautiful and seems kind as well🤷‍♀️

lilymhe pretty giiiirl

lance_stroll I couldn't agree more!❤️

yourusername oh stop you two I'm blushing

user8 Can we take a moment to appreciate how beautifully the caption is written?🥹 Lance really has some poetic talent!

liked by yourusername

user9 aaah she's still a gold digger and he's too blind to see it😂

user10 Yeah she probably charmed him in bed or sm

user11 Ohh user9 and user10... I wonder how it feels to know Lance and probably some other drivers hate you🫢

chloestroll My brother and my future sister-in-law!🥰

liked by the author and yourusername

yourusername 🥰🥰

user12 im actually so happy to see y/n replying to some of the comments and just being active without so much hate on her now!!!

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lance_stroll, kellypiquet, fernandoalo_oficial and 299,102 others

tagged: lance_stroll and dior

yourusername they say if he wanted to he would... I say he wants to so he does 🌹❤️

comments have been limited

lilymhe she ate you jealous people up with that caption

liked by lance_stroll and fernandoalo_oficial

lilymhe also alex_albon me when??

dior Wow!❤️‍🔥

lance_stroll That's what real men do instead of trolling others on the internet.

yourusername daaammn baby

lance_stroll What? I'm just stating facts 😌

kellypiquet shopping trip to Paris when?😍

yourusername anytime you want!!!💕

astonmartinf1 So lucky to (basically) have you on our team💚

fernandoalo_oficial I call that a slay admin

astonmartinf1 ...should I tell him slay is kinda out dated??

yourusername aaah let him have his moment

fernandoalo_oficial WHAT?! YOU TRAITORS I THOUGH I WAS GEN-Z APPROVED

yourusername 🫢

THE END

Author's note: I hope you liked my first ever social media au story! I'll be glad for every feedback, comment, like, reblog and everything! You can definitely send me asks and requests for another smau's and even 'normal' fanfictions. Have a great day!

1K notes · View notes

drowning-in-neon · 2 years

Text

yeah it’s another vent in the tags post sorry lmao ill try and spam reblog stuff to make up for it

#vents #i've just been missing a lot lately. like. memories and places and people and shit.#i really miss my cat #but i also miss seph (name changed for privacy) like. a lot. and that's almost worse than missing my cat #because at least with her; yeah of course i miss her and it's normal even if it sucks ass but with seph; missing them is almost worse #because i also end up so pissed off that i miss them because jesus christ. i love them so godamn much and things aren't the way they used to #be; which is arguably a good thing - they've grown so much and have come so far and are living their best life and i'm happy for them #for that; but despite still seeming to want to be friends they don't feel the way they used to for me and they are allowed not to but it #fucking hurts like hell to be the one who still loves him so goddamn much and somehow be unable to get over it. like. i want to get over him #so bad; so i can just let myself be friends with him without all sorts of little things reminding me of the pain but nothing seems to work #i've tried going on dates with other people and just generally trying to see other people; i've tried journaling and i've tried all sorts of #shit and nothing works. and i can't bring myself to step away either because like. one i don't think it's gonna work because even #though seph has BPD spells where he splits and blocks everyone on social media - sometimes for months on end - it never #helped; i still felt exactly the same after a separation like that. so even that doens't work and even if it did work i wouldn't want to do #it because i'm just. i'm afraid i'll lose them. i'm afraid thta one of these separations; whether by him or by me; it'll be the last time #hell i just went to instagram and found out that his account was private and i somehow wasn't following him anymore so i'm assuming i just #missed another split. but he genuinely seems to want to stay friends; if only for the fact he always comes back. despite how many people he #has simply blocked and not brought back after a social media blackout; i've stayed. i genuinely believe he wants to be friends and i am #okay with that; i want that too; i don't want to imagine a world that he isn't in. but it hurts. i don't try and force it because that's #fucked up but even so; it's hard to let myself enjoy a friendship when i'm still heartbroken that it isn't the same connection we used to #have. i wish i could just forget but i can't; every time i think i've gotten over him; every time i think 'oh hey i havent been #in much pain about seph lately; i think i've finally moved on hell yeah' my stupid brain is like SYKE lmao you dumbass you really thought #you were done? nope every little fucking thing reminds you of him and it's gonna still hurt because like. fuck you that's why #and some nights i just can't stop thinking about all the littlest damn things. the way he took a greyhound nine hours just to come visit me #in person for the first time after we connected so deeply on fucking faecbook dating of all places; the way we were so awkward #sitting at a booth in a pizza and bar combo place that night; the way he would tease me about how i tasted like castor oil because i was #trying to solve a bad case of chapped lips but even so he couldn't stop kissing me; the way his eyes sparkled every time he got passionate #about music; sitting at his feet while he wrote a short poem in golden marker on my brand new guitar #and it. it just hurts. and i wish it was the way it used to be. but i also don't because he's so much healthier now. i guess i just wish i #could have the good stuff but not keep the bad. i dunno. it just hurts. i miss him so fucking much and i hate it.

0 notes

faeriekit · 9 months

Text

New In Town (dp x dc)

ALRIGHT! 👏🏽 A prompt. (Or, well. A premise.) I’m schtealing a lot of worldbuilding from @mediumsizedpidegon‘s post here so bear with me please.

The Bats, however they catch wind of Amity, catch wind of Amity Park. Of course they do. Amity Park has a very distinct presence— Or, well, a lack of a presence. It may have an abundance of documented weirdness online, from folk stories to abandoned livestreams to concerning details in expats’ online blogs.

But there is no online evidence of Amity Park that leaves Amity Park.

So. What is a family of detectives to do when confronted with the need to gather physical evidence? Road Trip, baby!🏄🏽‍♂️🚗🚞🚡

Everyone hops in the car/Batplane and makes their way to Amity Park; they make hotel reservations, ring up the only reasonably rich enough people to even touch their social circle (the Manson family, and Vlad Masters, apparently), make an itinerary for all the documented tourist stops to hit up while in town off the town website, and prepare themselves for whatever dimensional weirdness is causing a complete tech blackout on the town and an inability to be found by satellite.

They get about ten feet into Amity proper when they meet the first local.

His name is Danny. He’s nice! Affable. He looks a lot like any other Wayne sibling, actually, if a little on the younger side. He notices it’s their first time in town. Do they need any help getting around?

Best way to get information is to ingratiate with a local, so...sure, why not? They get a free tour guide, Danny gets to show off his town; they see all the sights, like the local burger joint, the school, the Manson home, the town hall, the city proper. They’re having a clothing swap in the temple parking lot, actually. You should go check it out!

For whatever reason, it’s all...Punk? Goth? There’s a couple of lolita dressed tossed in, and some crocheted things. Everyone has a trunk out their car, eyeliner, and at least two piercings in their face; everyone here seems to know each other on a personal level. Well, small towns are small towns. Whatever.

Danny isn’t deterred by their reactions. If they want, there’s the movie in park tonight! If not, they can catch dinner, though; their hotel restaurant closes at 8pm sharp. (He just...knows this off the top of his head?)

They split up. Some of the family people watch at the restaurant. Everyone is...weirdly courteous to them. A little standoffish. But not at the Wayne name, just at...them being there.

The people at the park find out they’re watching The Night of the Living Dead. This would be much more normal if the park wasn’t also clearly the cemetery, in the middle of July? Which is. Why? It’s not even for any holiday or special time of the year? It’s just...clearly a movie night in the summer? There are little kids here, playing among the gravestones while their parents set out blankets and snacks. Why is this considered a family event??

Well. At least Jason has fun.

Everyone goes to bed and reconvenes in the morning. When they wake up and roll out for the day, Danny manages to find them again, this time with two new friends, bright and chipper in the morning. There’s a farmer’s market today! Everyone’s worked really hard on this week’s harvest; don’t they want to see?

...Sure?

And the longer they’re in Amity Park, the more they begin to realize how convenient it is, that they’re ferried around so easily; that there’s immediately a local who takes a liking to them, that there’s always something else to do; how suspicious it is that no data can get in or out of Amity now that they’re in it, or how they can’t seem to get close to any of the more suspicious parts of town they want to infiltrate. The town is entirely closed to outside influences. The fashion trends are strange and foreign. They only eat things grown in the area, by people they know, and it’s all sort of...green. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone knows where to go. Who to talk to. The superstitions— make no wishes, step on no cracks, wear no large jewelry, cross no shadows of any person (living or dead, apparently), speak to no one without full view of their eyes.

But nothing seems dangerous— not until a few of them try to investigate Axiom Labs, a subsidiary of the otherwise national Dalvco company, and are met to the face with a blaster that uses tech they’ve never seen, by a red fighter in an ultra-synthetic suit.

Overnight, the extremely polite and welcoming town becomes a hostile entity to fight their way out of.

#...or something.#dp x dc #this is *technically* a subset of the Amity is Danny's Haunt au #he can physically feel how they don't fit. But he is TRYING to be a good host #everyone else is nervous around new people who Don't Get the local vibes #or even notice the dead people who are scattered all over Amity #dpxdc #dcxdp #I just wanted Danny to be So Cheerful and Nice it turns back into like stepford wife spookiness completely on accident #Danny seems Tailor Made to be liked by them and it's kinda freaky #Places they also fail to get into: Mayor's office. Vlad's bigass house. Fentonworks #Oh Boy does Danny's attitude change when they try to get into Fentonworks #dcu crossover #free to a good home

2K notes · View notes

mrrharper · 14 days

Text

A Real Jock's Supposed To Be Dumb

Mike had a problem. And that problem was Tyler Grant.

Tyler Grant and Mike were both juniors studying finance. Mike was, according to the commonly used way of stereotyping people in college, a nerd. He studied, read books and academic papers, didn't posses good social skills. A nerd.

Tyler Grant was a college athlete, a wide receiver on their university's football team. and at a first glance he was very much a typical jock. He was muscular, his clothes always made that clear. He was popular with everyone, a bit cocky. Everyone knew that type.

But this wasn't the whole picture. For a football jock Tyler had surprisingly good grades. He spent at least some of his free time studying for exams and projects, he was active during classes, and he made an effort to get to know everyone who was present in the lecture hall alongside him.

And that meant Mike was... not frequently, but consistently approached by Tyler. The athlete usually exchanged a few words with him whenever the two bumped into each other.

And Mike was infuriated by this.

Because of course Tyler wasn't doing this because he was a genuinely nice person.

For sure he was doing this out of pity.

He probably laughed all day about Mike, that sad little nerd.

And all that pretending, which was definitely what Tyler was doing, made Mike fuckin' annoyed.

One day Mike was walking through downtown and he stumbled upon a thrift store. Lead by an impulsive thought he walked in and moved through countless racks and shelves. Then he saw it. A random golden chain, similar to the ones jocks like Tyler wore on a daily basis. Again driven by a strange impulse Mike picked it up.

"When you wear it, your word will be reality" A voice, belonging to some older man, whispered into Mike's ear. He quickly turned around but saw no one standing next to him. His eves went back to the chain. He had to have it.

So he bought it. What happened next was pure magic. The golden chain, when hanging form his neck, allowed Mike to alter reality. Which was insane. The chain's power was limited, but clearly visible and Mike was amazed.

He knew what he wanted to do with that power.

A week later Mike had to do a project for a class. The project required working in pairs and, what a coincidence, Tyler was sitting close to him and suggested they work together. Mike put on a fake slime, deep down sure that this was some new plot to make fun of him.

The next day they met in the university library to work on the project. As Tyler looked through some data on his laptop, Mike made sure the chain was under on his neck, hidden by his t-shirt and hoodie.

"You will treat everything I say as normal" Mike said. Nothing changed, Tyler just nodded after hearing these word and continued working. Mike smirked. Perfect.

"You will start behaving like a real jock. No more talking to me out of pity and then laughing at me behind my back. Be a real jock bro."

"Yeah, bruh" Tyler muttered to himself. His position shifted, his upper body more relaxed on the chair, his legs spread out. He swiftly removed his hoodie, revealing a white tank top.

"And let's not kid ourselves, deep down you know you are a dumb idiot. A jock like you will always end up with a brain that can only understand football plays." Mike grinned. He felt real good saying those words. Getting rid of academic competition, putting Tyler where he belonged.

"you callin' me a dumbass, fuckin' nerd?" Tyler stopped typing on his laptop. He looked at Mike, a dumb, cocky grin now clearly visible on his face. Moke could now see the arrogant dominance in his eyes.

"Yes, and you won't do anything about it, because you listen to everything I say, you dumb jock." Mike said straight into Tyler's face. The jock chuckled dumbly and flexed his arm. He put his hand on the bulging muscles and squeezed them.

"duuuuuh, dude" he drawled "wha' were we doin' even bruh? muh brain foggy dude..." he looked at his still opened laptop. "shit, nerd, what is that fuckin' nonsence!"

"I'll take care of that" Mike said as he closed Tyler's laptop. "You have other things to care about."

"fuck yeah i do, nerd!" Tyler barked at him. "Gotta get these guns pumped bruuuuh!" He flexed his arms again and laughed out loud, attracting attention of other people in the library.

"Okay, my jock, we gotta get you out of here" Mike stood up and waited for Tyler to do the same.

"oh fuck, nerd, we gotta get out of this fuckin' nerd central, am i right huhuhuhuhuh" He chuckled loudly as they left the library, Mike's hand on Tyler's biceps. After they were outside Tyler stopped for a moment, got his phone out and took a photo of himself flexing his arm.

"gotta keep the chicks on insta hot n' bothered, nerd" Mike smirked as he heard that. Oh yeah, his plan was going great.

#jock #jock tf #football jock #personality change

438 notes · View notes

iznsfw · 3 months

Text

Manic Robotic Dream Girl

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 4 - Choi Yena

IZ*ONE's Choi Yena x Male Reader Smut

8,311 words

Neon lights dance like flames around you. There’s no need to touch them when you’re already burning. Burning with something that’s not a fever but a kind of pain that never goes away.

Sweat pricks the sides of your face and you’re aware of the blots of perspiration running down your jawline. Nights at the Rogue are often hot, but then they surprise you with a sudden burst of windiness, so you never bother to take your coat off. Whatever and wherever, you’ll always be here yet you’ve not once been able to predict the temperature.

That’s what happened when WAKE12 took over.

Apparently, they decide if people are under the weather by controlling it by them-fucking-selves. Kwon feeling shitty? Looks like rain then. Maybe she’s feeling happy? Alright, let the clouds find balance. Angry? Take a fucking hailstorm. What a privilege, one bigger than the lives of the rich men in the North. But everyone forgets about that fact after she sends out minimal alms—canned goods, a Bible, something. Then it’s back to President Kwon is the best! President Kwon can never fail us! President—

“Vodka.”

“Same as yesterday?” asks Yuri, smiling a little bit.

“Same as yesterday.” For a hologram, Yuri can be quite the social butterfly.

Online wallets are all the rage nowadays. The AI voice in your head offers you said option to pay, and you can hear your balance privately spoken. Somehow your brow prevents from creasing as you hear it. You lack funds but somehow have a few extra bucks to drink.

Choose that. You want to save your Wizes for other things. Lock eyes with Yuri and your balance goes down. You’ve paid.

Online and digital wallets modified with embedded signals and readers were in use before you were even born. Of course, there were already such payment options in the twenty-first century, but how WAKE12 changed everything, not just ordering options with telepathic payment, can easily be read in a sixth grade history textbook.

In October of the year 2918, Kwon Eunbi rose in the ranks as a scientist and soldier for Kang Hyewon, former president, and ended up working her way into dictatorship. The textbooks and classrooms teach that she proposed a law to the court and got herself a position for her wit and intelligence. But early first accounts challenge that, saying that she caught the eye of Kang and had a sexual relationship with her. WAKE12 branded this as propaganda that sullies the name of not only the dictator but the one of the late president, who died mysteriously before Kwon rose to power.

Massive backstory for cashless payment, but you know there’s more to it than the government would like to let on. What happened to Kang? What made Kwon so evil the moment she sat in her presidential throne?

“Thank you, sir.” Holograms all have different voices; Yuri’s sounds like she’s singing. At least the bartender slash boss hired her instead of those with monotone, emotionless ones. It’s cheaper to have hologram workers than humans anyway. Less money, less emotional labor, less of feeling like a normal person.

A beggar curled up below the counter holds his hand out. Not an uncommon sight in the Auster, but it’s a pity to see. The world has advanced with its telepathic wallets and 3D holograms yet there will always be individuals who haven’t caught up with time. While the North Rogue leads worldly lifetimes, the Auster is a home for the rejects. The poorest of the poor. The somewhere-in-the-middles. It can never be truly a perfect world if advancement doesn’t include everyone.

Give him a Wize. Back then, that would have been worth a hundred or so dollars, a currency long gone. Not that you’d know of it; WAKE12 claimed leadership way before you were born so the cheap value of the coin studded with the bust of Kwon Eunbi is all you’re accustomed to.

Take your drink and thank Yuri.

The cobblestone is rough beneath your feet. You take your seat at your usual table. Float your fingers around your shotglass. Pour the contents down your chapped mouth almost all in one go. Anything to feel something. Anything to feel anything.

You’re not an alcoholic by any means, though that’s certainly up for debate. But there’s a need for the liquid that rages more than the need for oxygen (the fucking shortage of it) or food (the fucking expense of it). How else could you be less numb? You’re welcome to every feeling at this stage, just not this empty neutrality that slumbers your senses.

Pain? Your throat seizes up when you drink and brings tears to your eyes, so there's that.

Happiness? Hm, none. You’re barely smiling. You’ve no family, little friends, and no partner for the last few years. There’s nothing to be happy about.

Anger? The displays of people fined harshly for their crimes on the big as life advertising screens stir some defiance in you. WAKE12 doesn’t take kindly to hacktivists and young coders dabbling in creating their own AIs. You have your own anti-government opinions, but what’s a human mind against an artificial one? Plus, and probably a less serious reason (tell that to the thousands who flock to the hospitals because of asthma), the air is almost always polluted here in the Rogue. It’s dirtied by car smoke and factory remains. You’d think that robots taking over the labs would improve it. Perhaps they weren’t programmed that way.

Loneliness?

You look around. See the glitching phantoms of new world technology make the drinks breezily. Watch the light-studded train filled with commuters from the Auster. Kwon Eunbi managed to build an underside track for additional trains to run and still the commuters—young students, old grandparents, not young but not old workers whose jobs belong to WAKE12—wear the same tired look you saw yesterday. All you could hear are buzzes and uncanny valley voices from holograms.

The second chair paired with your table is empty. You’re suddenly lucid to the fact that it’ll always be like this. These nights of drinking and walking in the Auster Rogue will be endless, and just the same, you’ll be endlessly alone.

Sometimes mortality could be so depressing.

So depressing that it makes it all so meaningless.

A man stumbles over to the outside bar, breaking your thoughtless reverie. His clothes are as black as the night you spend but you can see blood on the fabric. The skyscrapers provide enough light for you to see his red face from anxious internal and worrying external blood. The pleading look grips his expression like a malfunctioning robot’s limb.

He’s looking back as if afraid of what might be there. The rain-soaked road is tread on roughly by his shaking knees as he crawls his way to the bar. “Please, help me!”

“Warning,” comes the voice in your head, and you know the other visitors hear it, too, “a criminal of the state is in your proximity. Proceed with caution.”

WAKE12 always keeps an eye on those who threaten them. They have goons everywhere. The kindly grandfather down the street could be a veteran waiting for the chance of a medal. They have ears everywhere as well. Undercover cops stay in both crowded and clear spaces to identify possible threats. When it all comes down to it, you’re not safe in your own head at all. The implants can detect when you dream up something terrible. That’s how millions lose their reputation. Their jobs. Their families.

Their lives.

He staggers to the counter, crashing glass that shards his palms, and lets out this wail you’d hear from an abused pup. “Please,” he croaks. “Don’t listen to them. I just need somewhere to hide. I did nothing wrong, nothing!”

The implanted voice in your brain says otherwise. Everyone was given one when the Cyber Age came. That’s what makes a tiny difference in seeing who’s human and who’s not: the tiny, diamond scar below their hairline from the operation. Close inspection can’t always be done, however. Nowadays, too many of these robots and holograms pass the Turing test. You can never truly trust someone.

“Offenses include: playing the role of an accomplice in theft of government data, distribution of terrorist propaganda—”

“Get the fuck out!” says the bartender, having burst out from the back. As a longtime visitor, you haven’t seen him this angry, but you know it stems from fear. No one wants to associate with a criminal. No one wants the association to lead to arrest and the arrest lead to god knows what. Hundreds of people go missing after they’re taken under custody. What Kwon does to them, you don’t know. “Leave or I’ll call the cops!”

Like you said, they lurk everywhere. You’re surprised they haven’t caught up to him.

The bloodied man shakes his head, like please, please, someone believe me. “No, I’m not a criminal! Listen to me, please, I don’t have enough time! They just wanna—cut down”

Rapid footsteps. Sigh and put your glass down. There they are.

The man reaches for him, but the bartender shoves the whole table into his face. He falls back on the ground and cries out for help that never comes. Men and women wearing tight black uniforms and vests pull him up. Their lit helmets that opposingly disallow a view of their faces make them look emotionless. Like robots.

Huh.

While resting your head against the metal chair, you listen to the struggling shuffles of the police and criminal, and see the glitching robots walking down the road. No real emotion, no real living.

He scratches and screams and sobs, but that doesn’t matter to them. They pull him along the rocky cement and recite his nonexistent rights to him. There’s the right to remain silent (he’s screaming), the right to an attorney (nobody in the Auster can afford a good lawyer much less an honest one), and the right to live freely if found innocent of the crime (someone getting convicted happens more often than being released).

Besides, it can’t be called living when it’s in a place so completely devoid of any humanity.

“In more ways than one,” you say. Fuck it, you’ll drink to that.

Like always, you take more than you should. You believe by now you’ve built some kind of immunity. That’s what they all think, you remind yourself, before an inevitable death that buries them in the ground one bricked shot at a time. You swear you’re not dizzy at all or feeling the acid build to your throat, so the sight gathering just a little away from you is real.

Stare at your glass. Space out if not for what you see: behind it, a shapely form of a woman in purple. The blue and violet lights make it difficult for you to distinguish it from her clothes so she actually looks naked. That shocks you more than the arrest. You’re sure she’s got a little modesty in her because why else is she making her way to a table?

Your table?

It’s like she teleported when she’s suddenly seated before you, filling the chair that’s been empty for the last more or so years. You don’t even get the chance to look up at the right time, but the moment you do, you think keeping your eyes on your glass would’ve been better for the sake of your heart.

YENA.

Her name appears in your mind and she hasn’t even introduced herself. But it’s right there, emblazoned in lights in all capitalized four letters: YENA. This girl is Yena. And this girl—this fucking guilty pleasure of a girl—is gorgeous.

The ends of her hair are tinged with blonde, and it’s hard not to give attention to that with how her locks are gathered into twin tails. She smoothes them before looking at you quite seriously, like she’s about to propose a challenge you’d lose.

Blue shining eyes. There’s something odd about the way they twinkle below her bangs—almost like something not human.

Yena dances her fingers around her jawline, elbow resting on the table, and tilts her pretty face. Lets her fingers play with her lips that are made for things the Auster’s known for providing (she can’t be from here though; those crocheted coordinates look costly). That’s how you notice that fine feature. Naturally thick and casually jutted out in a distinctive pout, your eyes are glued to them. Can’t take your prolonged stare away if someone helped you.

“Are you waiting for me to start talking?” Yena asks. She’s not angry, just amused—her voice is smooth and clear, with a tiny pitch that makes her all the more cute.

You shake your head. “Was just trying to figure something out.”

“And that is?”

“A lot of things,” you state. Things you’d keep a secret forever, lest you spill them out to a girl all for the payment of being beautiful. “But I’m not sure pretty girls like you would want to know.”

You try to keep your curious peering at her normal, but it’s difficult when she just attracts attention. She’s a glowing lightbulb in a flutter of moths. Yena doesn’t flicker weakly; she shines, and it’s honestly why everyone else is “subtly” looking at her, this gorgeous stranger who came in and somehow chose the alcoholic who came from places more rock bottom than the Auster.

She laughs. It’s sobering—you think you’ll get drunk on her rather than the cheap alcohol. “Is that what you think of me? Too beautiful to think too much?”

Look her up and down. Yeah, you want to say, that’s about it. It’s not out of offense but rather the instinct in you that wants to tell her you don’t want to put her in a worried state. She’s too… ah, she doesn’t know what you’d do for a girl like her—someone too unreal to be human but too genuine to be the “living” dolls lonely men purchase. Someone who can keep a conversation going without fearing a low blow. Someone who’s out of your league in the Rogue’s mixed pool but chooses you anyway.

“I’m just saying you might not want to hear a stranger boring you with his hard problems.”

“Oh please,” she says, waving it off with a flick of a pointed wrist. “You know my name. I know yours. We’re not strangers anymore.”

How did you—how did she—

Her eyes twinkle again. They’re… violet? You could have bet they were blue. But then you see the suspiciously smooth and clear skin, with the perfect lines of her eyelids, which curve as if manufactured in. She’s definitely not human.

“Besides,” adds Yena sweetly, “you’re really underestimating how good I can take certain hard things.”

Swallow. You opened the door, now you’re locked in.

Yena catches the bob of your Adam’s apple and smirks. Traces her fingers over yours. She can’t be human for sure yet you feel the softness of her hand, the only thing giving you doubt being how chilled her touch is. It's humid here, so where did that come from? Goosebumps pop up in masses across your skin—note how nothing shows up on hers.

Maybe she’s just a confident woman.

“Come on, I dare you.”

“Only if you go first.”

“Yes, sir,” she says. A cutesy saluted hand positions itself before her temple. Her hands are tiny, could be dainty, while her cheeks lift to support an adorable smile.

Your knees tremble. You don’t know where that came from either. Yena just knows what to say to get to a guy. Almost like she was made for it. There’s that question again, resurfacing in your altered brain: is she human or not?

You lean back. Cross your arms. Here you go, on your way to find out. “What’s your story?”

Yena shrugs, her shoulders bare and smooth. And you’re thinking of how you’d like to see the rest of them, the rest of her body naked by pulling down the crocheted strap of the purple coordinates. How you’d like to touch those puffed up cheeks and not care if they’re real or not when you pull her close to kiss her. How those lips—

“Don’t have one.”

“Sorry?”

She laughs. Even the way she giggles is attractive. “No, seriously,” she replies, licking her lips. “There’s nothing interesting about me. I’m the most normal girl there is.”

There is nothing normal about her. Everything she says is too prepared. The largeness of her eyes gives everything away. Her hair is combed too finely that you’re not unconvinced that it isn't human hair at all, though you can see them connect at the roots. It’s like someone drew a cute animated girl on a notepad one lonely night, sent the idea to a rich bastard, and brought her to life.

So no, you’re not buying it.

“So you’re saying you’re just a blank canvas.”

“If you put it like that, I guess.” Yena rolls her eyes. You’re a bit obsessed. “Guys want that, right? A blank piece of a girl they could shoot more than a shot at? Maybe paint her white?”

You’re thankful you didn’t continue drinking. Otherwise, your surprise would be visible and audible with the lodge of your throat as you wineboard yourself.

The side of her mouth raises. A soft dimple exceeding cuteness—it’s deeper, brighter, shinier. You imagine her as a college student, charming boys into submission just with a wink and a smile that can melt hearts and bring guilt to lust-addled minds.

That’s what she’s doing: Yena is melting you because of how adorable she is, but then you take a look at her body, note the fine curves it boasts, and feel the need to go to a confessional pastor. You’re not supposed to repeats in your mind, but you’re you—if you aren’t supposed to do it, then of course you’ll do it anyway.

“Woah,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Woah.”

“Look.” She rests her forearm on the table and talks so casually one would think she weren’t just talking about getting cumshots. “I‘m not taking that back, so do with that what you will.”

Under the table, behind the scenes, her leg is curled around one of yours. Her ankle glides along your skin teasingly. Not a speck of hair on all of those flawless legs, but you’re shivering anyway from the contact. Hence, make a show of closing your coat around yourself. You can’t fool her when it’s not even chilly.

Recover, piecing together the brokenness of your confidence she tore apart.

“My story is, uh, weird.”

“Tell me.”

“This might be too personal but—” You lift your shoulders awkwardly. “I used to date a girl who looks exactly like you.”

Kim Chaewon—short auburn hair, soft cheeks, and a tiny figure. She’s a memory you didn’t think of returning to today, but then Yena came here, and now you’re back to your youth.

“She was a cop. Cutest officer I’ve ever seen, but a real bitch, for the lack of a better word. Then she left me.”

“You broke her heart, didn’t you?”

Sputter. “No!” you immediately deny, shaking your head. “I—I didn’t hurt her, she was—”

A filthy lie. You became nonchalant, undeserving of a sweet woman who’d do anything for you, even give up her well-paying job. Again and again, Chaewon expressed her concerns: why were you talking to Minju? Where have you been? Why are you so mean? You disregarded them all the same. She deserved the ignorance; she was too fucking controlling, too fucking jealous.

Yena knows you’re lying. It’s like you’re a wound she can peel back to see all the ugliness, all the damage underneath. Her smile tells you everything.

“Oh, come on. I don’t care. Except for this.” Yena intertwines her fingers. Rests her chin on top of the formed platform. “Was she a good fuck?”

Your laugh is forced, trying to make a good deal out of this situation. A girl is flirting with you right after you saw someone disappear. Now you’re wondering if she’s a robot. Now, through some way, she knows you’re lying about your ex. Coincidences meet yet you refuse to connect them—parallel lines they shall stay, forever.

“Yena, what exactly is up with you?” you ask. “You just met me. And come on now, why me?”

It’s begun to be hotter in this space. Loosen your coat. Perspiration isn’t because of the atmosphere, so you find out (and what a surprise). It’s because of the woman across you, a midnight sun. If the painful sun was actually a symbol of good in the Rogue, Yena would play its role perfectly. She’d scorch through you and you’ll enjoy every second. Yeah, you’d get all sorts of tans and burns and cancers if you bask in her without protection, but my god, are you willing to take the risk.

“I just don’t like seeing pretty boys have problems,” she replies easily. “If they want, (and I know they do), I’ll take them all away. Soon, all you'll think of is me. Like I’m the sun peeking in your room and you just can’t get enough sleep because of it.”

You tense up. Millions of questions, a void empty of answers. Once again, how was she so spot on? You’re not breathing quite well, and your clothes are tighter tonight. “Yena, look, I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Don’t be, not because you aren't, but because she said so.

She pouts. “You’re not gonna buy me a drink?”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Nope. Remember what I said? I’m a blank canvas. So do whatever you want with me. Buy me a drink. Or not. Tell me to fuck off. Or not. Force me on my knees.”

Yena kneels.

There’s no mantle on the table to cover up what she’s about to do. You gasp, then try to mask it as a poor cough, but you’re distracted by how she pulls your pants down effortlessly. The button sealing your coat is busted open and gone.

So is your dignity.

Yena’s tongue sticks out at the side of her mouth as she looks up at you with excitement and mischief in her eyes.

“Or let me do the job. I’m a big girl after all.”

She seals her teeth around your zipper and tugs down. It’s embarrassing how hard you are for her. But Yena doesn’t care. Adoration is clear on her face as she stares at your shaft, the worshipful energy in her eyes so overwhelming that she has to do something about it.

“Yena—” What a way to go out: screaming a stranger’s name.

You knew those lips were up to no good the moment you saw them. She’s provided evidence, too. Her soft lips embrace your boner and suckle fervently while dragging themselves upwards. It’s a caress that tenses you up rather than comforts you. It works you up, tying you down with the little weight Yena has. You could kick her away right now and tell her to go away. File a case against her.

You don’t.

The joined duo of careful teeth and wild tongue gets you whimpering. Shivering. Begging. How is she so good at this?

Her mouth is perfectly wet. It’s not copiously soaked to have you cringing but the perfect balance of wet and ready, coating your rod again and again. She gives you too much and just right. It would be a cruel violation if you were asked to choose one and only one.

“Baby, what the fuck—” you stammer.

Her throat’s an expert in taking you because one push of her lips to your base welcomes you in its tight hole. Your knees shake; Yena places her hands on it, not to stop their trembles but for leverage during the dip of her head.

Close your eyes, look up, and stare at skies that provide no reprieving stars. Think of how she’s infinitely bett—

“Better than any pussy, huh?” Yena asks. The third time is no coincidence, so you’ve heard. “And it’s just my throat.”

At this stage, you don’t care if she’s a robot or not, because either way, that mouth is a fucking treasure.

You lift your hips and start slowly working yourself in Yena’s face. Her lips pucker and pout to allow you inside with pleasurable friction. Those eyes—there aren’t any planets in the sky because of the pollution but you think you can see their sparkle in them.

The amazing part is that Yena doesn’t choke. She endlessly takes you in, receiving every inch like a blessed gift, but you don’t hear her wheeze. No sounds of complaints escape her. You have a feeling it’s not because of your cock sliding in and out of it. She only gags on occasion, and those already sound fake. It’s like she’s doing it just so you can get worked up hearing her moans.

While others might be impressed, you’re dumbfounded. She tightens and loosens and pushes and pulls just for your pleasure.

“Yena, I– you’re doing so good,” you compliment her in gasped breaths.

Her cheeks hollow. The suction strengthens and it now feels like your soul’s being swallowed down her neck. She knows how to tease you with light pandering from her teeth, generous licking, and strengthened swallowing. Her mouth is warm but you are more so. She’s making you feel hot in all these layers, an additional one played by her perfect lips.

Perfect hair, too, you note.

Hungry impulses take over your body and now you’re pumping your core into the girl’s face with the help of her pigtails. Yena’s hair is thick and silky, and it’s another enjoyable factor: feeling how it slips between your fingers and how each pull directs her lips to press firmly to your crotch.

She doesn’t gag with that either. She must have had a lot of experience; she did say she can take hard things fine. That is, if she were human. If not, whoever built her had dirty ideas: the lack of gag reflex surely brings in the five star ratings.

Bright star-like eyes, cute ruinable face, mouth that can take the largest.

Yep, perfect.

“Good—fucking—girl.”

Your cock weeps white. Yena feels the first drop and immediately pulls away. She pumps your shaft with a strong, urgent fist. As she hinted, you blast all over her face. Your orgasm grips you and shakes you like never before, and of course, the little brat enjoys it. She’s nearly laughing.

“There,” says Yena after she drains you. Her duck-like lips are sticky with cum. “Canvas painted.”

What a pretty painting you’ve made. Here, shown to the public, is the manic pixie dream girl, semen on her chin to symbolize how each word she utters has you climaxing; hair disheveled to show your subtle but messy rule over her, because you own her although you weren’t there when her mechanical limbs were assembled and her face drawn; and a smile on her face to show that despite all this: she likes it.

You laugh, short blunt breaths wisping in the air. “There really is something wrong with you, Yena,” you say.

She’s a girl who’s extremely pretty, good at blowjobs, and likes public sex and oral. She can also read minds. Oh, and she might not be real.

“You could say that again.” She wipes her mouth. “Though I do think I could use a little fixing from you.”

You take her home. Your mother would have been disappointed in you if she knew you violated the first law you were ever taught: don’t talk to strangers. Most of all, don’t ever let them in. But Yena is no stranger—like she said, she knows your name and for some reason, you know her own. You’re not strangers. And your mother isn’t around to command you not to kneel for a pretty girl.

This home of yours isn’t fancy, but if people from 2024 saw it, they’d be mesmerized. You’re not rich enough to afford the penthouses the North offers; this one is alright for you. The stories of the building aren’t aligned with each other, separating a few yards with floating floors that defy gravity. That’s right; WAKE12 somehow found a way to disobey the rules of physics. The ends are lit up with bright lights that blind you from miles away. Wide windows encircle the areas along with al frescos and convenient malls. Back then, this would have been classified as the house of the wealthy—you can’t say you agree with the sentiment when you’re not at all rich.

“Hi,” says Yena brightly at the front desk. She’s so smiley, always grinning like she’s just told a really clever joke. “Where’s the elevator?”

“I, uh…”

The manager looks at her oddly. Your ears redden; she still hasn’t cleaned her face up. Evidence of your deed lies there on her nose and chin and cheeks, even in her perfect hair.

“Well?”

The manager lifts the phone immediately. Before he could dial a number, Yena sighs loudly.

“Look.” She silences the telephone with a slam of the device down on the keypad. The man’s hand cringes. “I’m about to fuck this guy’s brains out and I promise your little backup bosses can’t do anything about it.”

He stares at her.

“I’m gonna use his dick until it’s limp as a balloon, then ride him in bed, then bend over on the kitchen table so he could breed me like a common whore.”

You lift an index finger to apologize, but put it back down. Did she just say you can breed her?

His jaw tenses. The teeth behind those unsmiling thin lips grit, not in annoyance but in fear. Yena’s bouncy and sweet, but apparently she’s excluding people who cockblock from her cute attitude.

“So,” finishes Yena, lowering her gaze, “where is the fucking elevator?”

The elevator has no pulley or doors. It sits at the side of the uneven floors and rises with nothing but a sizable pod. You’ve had to watch your weight to be able to enjoy the freedom from staircases.

Yena steps on it with no worry. As you look at her, you realize how positively tiny she is. That’s why she isn’t doubtful about fitting in the claustrophobic space. Her violet clothes can slip off at any time at her pull of a waist and slim thighs. All the fullness goes to her cheeks, painted with fake tattooed stars and minimal doodles.

She’s the kind of girl you could just pick up and do whatever to. You’re the kind of guy who really, really likes the idea.

Holding your hand is a thing of the past. Yena clutches your cock over your jeans as the elevator lifts the two of you up.

The first thing she does the moment you enter your home is not kiss you, or slam you to the door, or whisper dirty nothings in the hollow of your ear. Yena looks around and says, simply, “Doable.”

You chuckle. You’re not offended. It’s a tidy, minimal apartment with glass that spans a viewing pleasure of the artificial forest and the hills. Glass lost its value but skyrocketed in purchases when Jo Yuri, first activist recorded in the history of WAKE12’s domination, was imprisoned. People compared her name to glass (yuri was 유리 and 유리 meant glass) and since then, it has been used everywhere. High demand, low price. Her symbol and namesake is used the way the public wants her to be used: cheap thing convenient only to the eye. They always said she was too pretty to talk too much.

“Here, doable is the best compliment,” you reply. You go to your bedroom to clean the place. If you want to fuck a rich girl, make sure the bedroom is at least up to her standards. “You have personal maids there in the North?”

Yena continues looking around. She’s mildly fascinated by everything, especially in the big window placed on the ceiling that lets stars peer down at you. For some reason, all the ejaculation on her face is gone. You don’t remember her bringing a washcloth.

“I’m not from the North, you know.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. I don’t come from anywhere.”

You come out, having cleared your bed from clothes and the floors of trash. You fed the trash to the connected chute that all apartments have, which leads down to the Southern Auster. The word may be Latin and is already defined as south, but there’s places poorer than the part you live in. You’re lucky to be here. The Southern Auster’s where it’s much more dangerous. The people there scavenge for food and money, and their cries go unheard in the night. It’s the biggest criminal capital of the Rogue.

You come out and Yena’s sitting on the kitchen table with a knife.

Stop in your tracks.

See the blood running down her arm.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt.”

You still don’t know what to say. The wound on her skin’s dissolved to a scar that looks more like a scratch on metal. Why would she do that? Why would that do that?

“In fact, I think it’s kind of cool.” Yena slides the blade on the strap of her top. It falls apart, right down to her braless chest. A pink, perky nipple is clear in the moonlight shining from above. “When people see me, they usually want to hurt me, so I might as well do it myself, right? They want to slap me, pull my hair, choke me. They say that and figure I’m totally flattered.”

You want to say that you couldn’t blame them. Yena’s got this innocent but naughty aura about her that you want to completely ruin. There’s her hair, all dolled up and her quirky makeup that brings attention that eventually switches down to the body she doesn’t bother hiding.

But it looks like she’s doing the ruining. Aren’t those the best stories? Boy corrupts girl when it’s the other way around in reality?

To use the word “reality” when you’re with Yena is laughable. She can read your mind like a Rogue Times newspaper. You get that things you thought were impossible have a chance of happening in these days, but you don’t remember wounds healing that fast. The knife slices right through the fabric, revealing swoon-worthy curves of her waist and hips, making her bleed only not for too long. Who would want a scar-ridden skinny girl anyway?

“Well,” you say after a dutiful swallow, “are you?”

Yena examines the knife. Her crimson blood dripping from its edge is a worthwhile watch while she considers this.

She finally puts down the knife, much to your relief. “I don’t know. What about you, handsome? Do you want to hurt me or fuck me?”

“I… I’m not like them. I don’t wanna hit you or make you cry or anything. I want to fuck you, that’s completely different.”

First confession of the night that didn’t need saying when it’s clear. You let her blow you in public. You took her home. The intention is staring you in the face: you want to have sex with a girl you just met.

Yena smiles. “You’d be surprised how blurred the lines are.”

Yena‘s hands fall on your shoulders and make you fall to the kitchen chair and make your pants fall on the floor. Falling, falling, falling for her—it’s all you’re able to do provided that she’s stunning. She’s tiny with her thin arms and legs but her breasts are surprisingly supple. The cleavage her top subtly shows off hinted to that and you’re still shocked.

She’s a hot desert, and the only source you can drink of is her core. Her pussy is slick, making her thighs glue together only for them to part as she sits on your lap.

The first grind has you both breathless. The second renders a duet of moans. She’s so wet that it’s excessive enough for her to drip down your cock and completely cover it with her. Yena’s pussy lips splay and clasp your shaft with slippery friction.

She curses. “You’re so hard. Big, t-too.” She aims your cockhead at her clit and sighs at the toe-curling pleasure. “You think you can fit in me?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

Yena smirks. She continues soaking you with her wetness. Her juices pour from your head to your balls. Then, without warning, she sheathes your rod inside her.

You gasp. It’s so easy to slip yourself in and all too difficult to cope with how tight she is. Her walls, perfectly textured and sloppy, trap you and let you out, giving you false hope of escaping, only to imprison you again. It’s the best punishment you ever had.

Her throat was already better than the other cunts you’ve spent yourself in, so what does that make her pussy?

The best. Her overflowing waterfall lets her ride you easily. It seems like there’s a million spots inside her you can target for she quivers and cries with each bounce. Her hair flows photogenically while her chest does the same erotic motion.

“So fucking good, fuck,” Yena groans. Her round butt lands on your lap and you think you’d like it to stay there forever. Curl your hands around her cheeks. Draw a healthy moan from the throat you used.

Yena’s pussy curves and opens in every best way. She makes it so easy to mold her into the shape of your cock, to rearrange her insides. Was she made for dick? She’s so wet that you’d think she’s a nymphomaniac who won’t let you go, the same way her vagina won’t let you go as its grip curls around you and threatens to milk you to your wits’ end.

You wouldn’t mind that.

Her riding accelerates to an unbearable point the moment you start to spank her. She’s right about hurting and having sex being almost the same—you want to leave red handprints all over her jiggling ass. You want to pull her hair until she screams. You want to fuck this perfect cunt of hers right up to when she’s creaming all over you, flooding your sexes with her naturla nectar.

And the crazy thing is: she’ll actually let you.

“Fucking brat,” you say, hitting her butt again. She yelps coquettishly. “Are you really this thirsty for cock?”

“God, yes…” Her head throws back. Yena’s eyes shut and although her vision is blocked she sees stars. “Wanted to know how your dick would split me open. Fuck, keep doing that!”

Her core tightens with each blow you expel on her bouncing ass. Her hole’s already so enclosed so when she squeezes more, it’s close to having your cock tortured. You’re suffocating inside her. You’re waterboarded again and again with her waterfall of wetness.

You guide Yena’s motions with your hands on her behind. She’s so light that you’re practically using her as a doll, fucking her on your erection and letting yourself enjoy how her tits recoil. Her moans turn on a part of your brain that you don’t know, but it transmits to you these thoughts: fuck her senseless.

You raise her as high as you can, her weight nothing even to your long-untrained muscles, then slam her down. She sinks deeper into your lap and takes longer inches. Yena’s screams bounce off the soundproof walls that ensure only you can hear them. Those walls were fucking expensive, so of course you gotta let them have purpose. Slap Yena’s thighs down on yours and let her pussy envelop you right up to the point of bruises appearing on your skin.

How does she not sweat? Your hands wander all over her tight body and still you don’t find a drop of sweat. Her pigtails are still secured. You guess she was just made to be eternally pretty.

She is pretty, under any circumstance—her smooth skin possesses zero blemishes and her winged eyes remain lamp-bright. She’s pretty, even when she lets out the pitchiest sounds, even when Yena’s lips rise into a devilish smile before sealing on your neck. She nibbles on your skin and rakes up your sensitivity.

“Holy shit, Yena…”

“Yeah, that’s right.” She licks behind your ear and you nearly lose it. Maybe you already did. “Say my name. Because I’m all yours. This pussy is yours to use and abuse, so do it.”

Rub her tiny pulsing clit. Yena’s cries deafen you. If that’s not enough, she drowns you with her cum. There’s no raft to save you. You’re all alone. You’ll drown here and never see the light of day again.

Electricity runs through her body as the pleasure ramps up. Her fingers weaken on your shoulders. Her gasps are split off by larger, more surprised evolutions. Yena’s close.

“Fuck, no, I can’t!” Yena’s riding is furious and borderline abusive. The noises between your two crotches are louder than before.

“You can,” you insist. You throb inside her while her pussy becomes smaller despite the many thrusts you perform. “Take it like a good girl, Yena.”

“Fuck me, use me, I’m just your cute little helpless girl, fuck me!”

She couldn’t be more correct. She’s just a useless doll, thin and adorable and tight—so why not use her like one?

You’re surprised your limbs have any power in them, but they impress as you lift Yena up. During your walk to the counter, you don’t stop thrusting in her. She’s wet and ready, just waiting and begging for it to happen. Her pretty face is smudged with tears. There’s sick satisfaction in you from seeing how the confident girl at the bar is now just a fuckhole to use.

“Oh, oh, ah!” Cute little whines come out from those lips. Her mouth used its power to pick you up, make you cum, make you scared. In this second, all that is gone: she’ll only ever use it to wail in pleasure.

Knock her against the kitchen counter. Her thighs press to the curve. You spread them open and continue spending yourself to death in her. Her sides that slant to make the physique you love are perfect handles to thrust.

You’re completely soaked, but she’s completely defiled. The dream girl is not just any dream but a wet dream. She’s the fantasy you never had but will constantly think of now. And you don’t care if WAKE12 knows you’re fucking her. They can read all the thoughts you have about Yena as much as they like, and you wouldn’t care.

Instead of giving a fuck, you twist her around, her smooth back in front of you, and fuck her harder while you’re at it. Admire the way your hips slap her ass and give her the spanking she deserves. One spank, that’s for being so tempting. Another for the price of her promiscuity. Three one-after-the-other’s because she’s too wild, too free for a girl with that face.

“God, please, harder!” Yena cries. “Make me your little cocksleeve cumslut!”

She does not take pain to heart, physically and mentally. In spite of your rapid pumps and the slap of your stomach to her bent and ready ass, no bruises or scratches appear on her skin. You say all these degrading words and rather than mope about it, she gets more turned on. She forces you to give all your might in railing her in this apartment where the open windows give you away rather than the sounds. And you’re nodding along, saying:

“Of course.”

Of course you’ll grab her tits and pinch their nipples as hard as you can. Yena’s skin might not be humanly warm but these boobs are real. They’re soft in your palms and plentiful. Is she a masochist? You tweak and slap and squeeze; in response, she’s… smiling?

Of course you’ll slip your touch all over her body. Appreciate every perfect curve, every fine fullness. After fondling her tits, you slide your hands over her smooth pits, then to her arms that struggle to remain stable. She’s sensitive all over; it’s evident in the way she babbles each time you caress her.

Of course you’ll take her hair and pull as hard as you can. She won’t get mad. Nothing ever gets to the cool girl.

“Oh my god!” Yena shouts.

Those pigtails are there for a reason. Thrusts become easier to do with her hair curled in between your digits. Her ass meets your crotch easily and you find yourself excavating her cavern, hitting her in all the good places. Yena hums and screeches and sobs.

“Bad girl.” Her hair plays the role of your reins. They’re convenient in spreading Yena apart with your shaft, tearing at her tightness. “You’re nothing but a filthy cocksucking slut.”

“M-mhm, yes, just for you, just for this perfect dick, ahh! I’m cumming!”

Yena’s core flexes and contracts. It holds you like it never wants you to go but you let go anyway. You can do nothing besides that especially if it’s her, someone who’s so cute but so seductive, so challenging but submissive. Each part of her—those blowjob lips, her blooming face, her cockiness—makes you wish this could never end.

The first sign of the end of this pornographic one-reeler is your semen raining inside her, setting a storm in her guts. You pant, legs weak, while Yena’s seem to go on forever although she’s smaller than you.

The second sign is the mess she made. Those aforementioned desirable legs are painted by obscenity. She squirted all over your floor and herself. Your cum coats her vulva plus spills down freely.

Yena looking back at you with a tired smile is the last one, along with her asking, through shattered breaths, “Better than your whore ex?”

Because that’s the thing about girls like Yena. They’ll do everything to please you. Perhaps she’s a good dresser, but really, this is your style, not hers. This type of fashion is what you like on women: modestly revealing. Girls like Yena will give you everything, make you discover yourself, and when all this happens, she’ll remain the thoughtless, forgiving girl. She won’t complain about things that will set you off and say coy, clever things, the kind men like to hear.

All just to be better.

She is.

“Yeah.”

Yena chuckles. For a moment, she looks like the sweetest girl in the world. The happiness overtakes her face and makes her smile reach her ears.

It disappears as fast as it arrived.

“Wrong fucking answer.”

Alarm sounds of every kind—natural disaster, fire, robbery, whistles—blare in your head. You can’t hear anything except the thin screeches of emergency. But for what?

Yena loses her brightness. Everything that made her shine shuts down. She smiles, that same one full of mischief, before she breaks, too. Her eyes turn pitch black, the ones you see in crows, the sign of bad luck. She disassembles part by part before you. The light girl is suddenly so heavy that she forces you down. Suddenly, her torso above yours feels colder than before.

What the fuck?

Escape is your first instinct. You push the remains of the girl away. Your feet kick the broken parts as if you’d break, too. You brush past the fringe of her bangs. Below it, no diamond scar rests on her forehead.

Stare down at her. Yena truly is not real. Your manic robotic dream girl is dead. She was never alive.

“You have been found guilty,” says the implant. You used to hear it when WAKE12 arrested people and now it talks to arrest you. The alarms are loud but you understand every fragment.

The implant’s emotionless voice now sounds a lot like—

“Chaewon?”

Bad luck comes just like the consequences of the law, personified by stilettos clicking on your floor, a shadow in the moonlight, and the face of the woman you swear you never wanted to see again.

And yet here she is.

Chaewon looks so much like Yena. Yena looks so much like Chaewon. Their chins, their eyes, their bangs—who is who? Their faces mingle and mix in your vision. You think you’re going crazy.

She puts away a remote control and places her hands on her hips. Her black bodysuit is all you see as she approaches. Her smiling lips don’t utter a word. You hear her voice, all in your head.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything and everything you do shall be punished by WAKE12 accordingly. This is the price you pay for your crime.”

There’s a gun in front of you. It’s aimed at your chest, determined to crush what keeps it beating. Raise your hands, but not in surrender. You’ll die before you try to be Chaewon’s toy again.

“What crime? Being your ex-boyfriend?” you spit. This has got to be a joke. “Chaewon, I said, what crime?”

She can’t abuse her authority. She couldn’t have done all that just to get back at you. And for what? Being a bad boyfriend when you were younger and dumber?

You hear her speak. That striking smile looks more terrifying than beautiful. It dissolves into darkness to pronounce your wrongdoing.

“For the crime of fucking existing,” she snarls.

You hate Chaewon. You swore you never did yet now you do wholeheartedly. You tried to love her and reciprocate her efforts. She’s a busy woman so she should have understood you had other commitments.

This is the last time you ever want to hear from her.

A bullet you don’t see coming. It soars in the wind and finds its home sweet home in your skull.

She’s the last thing you ever heard.

587 notes · View notes

weirdly-specific-but-ok · 4 months

Text

pt IV good omens but all i know is i watched three episodes on a stream with you all

Three hours being in a server with good omens fans in the wild *insert random emojis to sound like optimum clickbait youtuber except this ain't clickbait*

Okay I woke up. Before everything just WASHES out of my brain, I'm gonna describe whatever happened last night best as I can, because that's what I do.

Some of you were unable to attend the stream, and were sad. But don't worry I got you guys here's the rundown:

people joined the server. people were confused. i was afraid. i was assured that i should be, which was meant to comfort me.

people introduced themselves. someone said they had worked in a brothel as a bartender, which was cool, they said they had many stories. they did not elaborate for fear of scaring the newcomers. The newcomers, aka, me, were already scared, and it was not of the brothel stories.

I brought an emotional support orange with me. It looked uncomfortable. I thought it would be rotten. It was not, but we would not know that until later.

@thescholarlystrumpet entered fabulously, and started the stream.

i didn't realise the show had started for a good two minutes because there was a random voice over that was telling us about Earth's star sign (Libra) and somehow that didn't compute in my brain as being part of the episode. I thought we were checking audio.

It turned out, the episode had begun, and everyone was acting like this is a completely normal way for a show to start.

We time-jumped from the fall of man to modern day society so fast that I got whiplash.

There were a lot of orgasmic noises. I asked why. I was told in no uncertain terms that those were screams of labour. I'm sorry to everyone who has given birth ever.

There were three babies. I tried to keep track, it was hard. I thought the Antichrist won prizes for tropical fish. I was wrong.

I fell in love with Crowley and his hips and was very gay on the chat. This was heartily applauded.

I didn't realise an hour had passed when the episode ended, which it seemed was to be a common theme. I said nothing happened which everyone found funny for some reason.

I was very concerned about Armageddon. Everyone assured me that it would take place over the course of the season. I asked why we'd speedrun through millennia in five minutes but eight days took several episodes. I was a naive fool. Time is a social construct and this show cares not for social constructs.

They fucked up the mission. This was also to be a common theme.

I begged for a break and had to shake my head to try and get the brain rot out. I did not succeed.

The second episode commenced. The intro concerned me, because the cartoon Aziraphale looked pregnant or like a chicken. I asked if Crowley had impregnated him. He had not.

The pornography scene had to be replayed because I was so lost and had not relished it properly.

There was a lot of crying on the chat. Every few minutes someone would say a normal sentence in English and everyone would respond with crying emojis. Needless to say, I was concerned. This was also to be a common theme.

I asked why we were talking about random children. I was told it was The Them and they were the Antichrist's friends. I liked the hellhound.

I wanted to adopt the Antichrist, and grew more thirsty for Crowley every time he was a casual accessory to murder. I'm relying on this fandom not to use this as evidence with the cops. The chat was not reassuring, they said maybe.

I thirsted for Crowley more. This was also to be a common theme.

Aziraphale was very cute, I realised. That was nice. It was not nice when he had gay panic and said mean things to Crowley and they broke up. This was also to be a common theme.

I got so gay for Crowley that I ate the emotional support orange. It was gaseous. The chat was concerned, and everyone got excited every time oranges were mentioned after.

The third episode was a fucking roller coaster. Crowley and Aziraphale were your average high school couple but biblical for 6000 years.

Both were casual accessories to murder, and sometimes the cause of the murders, before going out for a date. Crowley got horny and he stopped listening every time Aziraphale ate. This was also to be a common theme.

The chat was keeping count of the husband breakups. This was not nice.

The Bentley was silver in many scenes, and people were forced to concede that they saw it. I was smug.

Crowley was sexy. She served gender, or as some people in the chat said, she served cunt. Her hairstyles got better and better. No one liked the 60s one. I did. I like everything she does. I love him.

Things happened. The fandom infected me. Someone mentioned how the book said Crowley felt lonely. I was near tears.

Crowley walked down the aisle for Aziraphale. We all were happy.

The book case, the thermos, the bandstand. I was broken.

Everyone said very emotional goodbyes.

I made a post on tumblr that was absolutely incomprehensible but accurately conveyed my love for Crowley. I fell asleep.

Same time next week, I believe.

I hope this was an adequate summary of the livestream for everyone, I am broken irreparably and if anyone mentions the bandstand I will have to start drinking and not stop till I get a happy ending. I cannot afford alcohol. I will ferment grapes myself if I have to.

616 notes · View notes

ghostreblogging · 1 year

Text

Omg like I had this dream about it yesterday. So what if batfam decided nope we're gonna ghost proof this house. And in the way they did it, they didn't use blood blossoms, ectoranium etc (blood blossoms are extinct and hard to find in large quantities and ectoranium is a space metal that nobody knows exist yet or confused with kryptonite) They used magic, so it's little less noticable.

And Tim decides to Invite his new friend over, aka Danny Fenton . Said friend refuses to touch anything while there. He wouldn't sit, eat food, or touch any of the occupants. And when he finally accidentally touches something, the spell works and he is captured with glowing chains or straight up thrown back into the infinite realms.

Danny finally has time for normal teenager shit. He managed slowly go through the bureaucratic shithole that is the infinite realms politics and he managed to come out with his sanity intact. Phantom is no longer a menace but a hero that tragically gave himself up to seal all of the Infinite realms (that is kinda true he did go through a nightmare to make sure ghosts didn't attack the living world and had to do the equivalent of centuries worth of paperwork to do that.)

And all things considered ghosts are a thing of the past for most people. ( He hopes that the ones he allows through keep their oaths and stay hidden)

And he can finally be a normal teenager again, albeit in Gotham of all places. But the death in the city masks his more inhuman traits and he really didn't wanna go through another paper work stuff to register himself as a meta without the meta gene, he would have to do that later though.

But he can do that later, he's on a vacation and he's not doing that.

-_-_-_-

He is standing in the doorway. People around him are getting their umbrellas and sadly he doesn't have one. He was debating internally if he should just go or go back to the lost and found for an umbrella.

He was waiting for Tim as he agreed to come for dinner. The car ride to the Wayne manor was calm, filled with few words.

All changed when he came to find the whole manor was covered in intricate magical circles and traps. He saw atleast few that straight up sent him to the dark parts of the realms and he didn't want to touch that. And as much as he wanted to straight up escape, Tim had been asking for multiple days.

So as much as he wanted to flee, his social skills are shit and he didn't want to risk the awkwardness afterwards.

So he tried his best. Didn't touch the ground floated slightly above it, didn't touch the furnitures cuz apparently it was considered part of the house, couldn't touch the walls. Couldn't even touch the residents before setting the alarms off.

He thinks he pulled it off. Of course he pulled it off everything was going smoothly and he just has to make sure he has everyone in the room in his sights and float a bit. Well until the actual dinner. He couldn't touch the food and he looked quite akward so much so Tim whispers to him.

"You okay? You aren't touching your food."

"Oh I'm okay, it's just-" before he could even start with his sorrowful excuses, someone someone grabs his arm, again it wouldn't have been a problem too it would only raise the alarm, until he is pushed down into the chair thus triggering multiple traps .

Big golden chains appear and he is arleady out of the chair by then. He opens a window and turns to say sorry but he accidentally trips over another trap and is pulled into the realms. He should probably cross Tim out of his list of friends.

-_-_-_-

Tim's friend just fell through a portal, should probably call Constantine about that.

Dick was the first one to speak up after the silence that incued.

"Did we just banish Tim's new friend to the shadow realm?"

"Wait why did he trigger the alarm? He didn't seem all that ghostly, was he like Jason"

"Probably. We probably won't see him again, do we just. . . Push the blame onto Constantine?"

" We are heroes-"

"And how the heck are we supposed to enter the realms anyway? And escape! Constantine greatly expressed that portal was one way only"

*Tommorow*

They see Danny just waltzing through Gotham and they pull him aside.

"What the fuck. You got pulled into the shadow realm yesterday! How do you even trigger the alarms"

Danny who arleady went through the five stages of denial and how tf am I gonna explain "oh you see i am a warlock of....uhhhh

I didn't think this far

OH PHANTOM. THE GREAT PHANTOM"

And after a very stressful meeting with batman and the entire JL dark members cuz apparently his alter ego became a big deal without his agreement.

Where he

Had to speed learn how to create duplicates

Had to fight off a few ghost lawyers cuz they wanted to be a part of "the very important meeting of importance"

Got asked to do magic (he's still learning okay?)

He panicked tried to sell one of his powers as a spell or him just having the copy of his patrons power.

More people got worried about him supposedly creating a contract with a very powerful new unknown diety

Got into the JL dark as a warlock

People apparently trusts him now???? As FENTON??????

Apperantly showing off weaker version of patrons power was a bad idea cuz he greatly overestimated the power limit.

He is a powerful warlock of a powerful "demon"?

WHAT THE FUCK DO U MEAN I- MY PATRON IS NOT A DEMON

"so what is he"

Uhhhhhh a guardian spirit?

Uunhuun soo it's phantom right.?? Leme do some research

WHAT DO U MEAN PHANTOM IS APPARENTLY A GOD AND IS KNOWN GLOBALY FOR BEING THE GOD OF HEROES??

Wait . . . . Clockwork. Oh my god.

Now he is the number one call up magic person for the bats now.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #danny phantom au #is this done yet?#danny phantom crossover #batman #dc x dp

3K notes · View notes

abrunettefangirlnerd · 9 months

Text

Overwhelmed

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Prompt: Reader has bouncing between so many things in her life that is leaving her chronically exhausted. It hasn’t been too much of a problem until one afternoon. The only one that seems to notice is JJ.

Warnings: Near death experience

The blinding sun crinkles your eyes as you drive your way to the Chateau. Sweat beats down your entire body from the day working with your father. He is a construction worker with his own company, and you work with him during the summer for some spending money. Even though he is your father, he still has you doing all the same heavy lifting as anyone else that works for him.

Normally every summer has been fine. You also work at a local gym on Figure 8 almost every day for a few hours. You’d work with your dad in the morning, work at the gym in the afternoon, and hangout or relax with your friends in the evening.

Though for some reason this summer your dad thinks any free time you have will be with him, unless you’re sleeping of course. You’ve had talks with him, and he always seems to be on the same page. That is until he starts telling you all that he needs help with and how you are going to come and help before and after the gym all week.

Luckily today ended up being a day he didn’t have much for you to do. Instead of wasting another second you made a beeline for your friends before he could change his mind. You love your dad, and the extra cash, but trying to keep up with work and maintaining your social life leaves very little room to just breathe.

Though you find yourself struggling to try. From the constant buzz of life that has become almost normal, you find yourself getting anxious anytime you are just laying around. Even if you are with your friends. Anytime you aren’t on the boat or helping with the newest endeavor of finding the gold, you feel like you should be doing something.

“Hey it’s my girl!” JJ shouts from the couch on the porch. Beer in hand.

“Hey babe.” You say with a smile after greeting him with a kiss. “Did you guys catch anything on the boat?”

“Not much but we did manage to save some leftovers for you,” your best friend John B offers. “It’s only been sitting out a few minutes.”

Feeling your stomach rumble, you assure him that you are hungry enough to eat it raw. Walking into the kitchen you let your smile faulter. You allow the wandering exhaustion to settle over you for a moment. Holding back the exhaustion is exhausting enough.

You feel the nice warm water wash your hands of drywall dust, paint, and sweat. Heading over to the counter you find your plate and grab a fork before rejoining the boys. Kie apparently has to work tonight since she was out all day with the boys. Though she promised to come back over after her shift at The Wreck.

You take the empty seat next to JJ, and as you do an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. As you dig into your dinner you hope that the guys haven’t noticed. If they ask you if everything is okay, you’re afraid some tears of frustration and tiredness would break through. Instead you focus your attention on the food in front of you and the latest pointless debate between the boys. Before you know it, every last bite on the plate is gone.

“Hey lets go back out on the HSM Pogue!” John B excitedly gets up. “Sun is setting, nice night dip.”

Everyone excitedly agrees and you head into the spare bedroom to slip into your swimsuit. As you pull up your straps, completing your ensemble, there is a knock on the door. Without asking who it is, you tell them to come in. Only one person would want to come in and that is JJ. It is basically his room after all.

Closing the door behind him, JJ takes in the sight of you. The newly defined muscles on your arms and legs from the work with your dad. You can’t complain about the benefit of the job. Though when his eyes meet yours all you can see is concern.

“If you’d rather stay in and relax I’ll stay with you.” JJ offers you. An overwhelming sweep of adoration floods through your senses, but next comes the wave of anxiety. No, I can’t do nothing.

“It’s okay, we can go on the boat.” Your voice upbeat and convincing of the energy you do not contain. “I’m fine.”

Even as the last two words leave your lips, tears form behind your eyes. Thankfully the room is dark, no power on the Cut from the hurricane. Unconvinced, JJ nods and heads back out with the other two. You take two deep breathes as you clear your eyes and slow your now racing heart. With a quick nod at yourself in the mirror, you make your way out to the HSM Pogue.

The sound of the waves hitting against the boat is almost enough to pull you to sleep. That and the warmth of JJ’s arm around your waist. Leaning into him you find your eyes fluttering shut every few minutes. If this wasn’t the first time you’d physically seen everybody in days, you would have just stayed at the Chateau with JJ.

Situating yourself, you lean toward the cooler for a cold beer. Even though you know alcohol is a narcotic it just gives you something to do than think about how tired you are. From the corner of your eye you see JJ analyzing you. Aside from a beer here and there, you aren’t much of a drinker. It isn’t until you send him a smile that he drops his watchful gaze and smiles back.

“This looks like a good spot.” John B insists as he slows the boat to a stop and throws the anchor over.

The four of you jump into the cool water. The sudden alertness gifted by the water sends you through the break into the sky. Though as your body adjusts to its temperature the feeling of exhaustion returns.

JJ wraps his arms around you and peppers your face with kisses. Squealing, you try to pry him away from you but your efforts are futile. Taking your frame in his, JJ manages to throw you a few feet in the direction of Pope. Who of course fakes offence at the unseen attack. Water is thrashed around by each person until a full blown water war breaks out.

Swimming around to the boat, you take deep breathes as you watch the boys continue splashing around. You plan to hide out for a bit before climbing onto the boat and performing a cannon ball that will soak everyone. The splash to end all splashes. Not wanting to spoil the fun yet, you float on your back in the water.

You close your eyes and feel the cool water soak into your warm skin. The aches and pains from the day’s work unravel from your body. Dark clouds filter behind your eyelids as the sounds around you become more muffled. You know you should get up but you can’t will your body to move.

The water around you laps farther up your face, and within a few moments you’re completely submerged into the water. Making the mistake to breathe, a burning sensation fills your lungs and your body fights out of its own slumber. But you’ve already breathed in too much water and your body is still too exhausted to propel your body toward the surface.

Looking around JJ realizes that he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in a few minutes. He calls out (Y/N)’s name while circling around the boat. Giving up on swimming, JJ climbs up on the boat and surveys around the best he can in the dark.

Panic rises within JJ’s chest and his breathing becomes labored. JJ knew he should have suggested harder that you two stay at the Chateau. He could tell through (Y/N)’s eyes how exhausted she truly is. Just a few nights ago he went to surprise her at home. Crawled in through her window with a big bag of snacks and drinks that will keep her up well into the night. However, the moment JJ wrapped his arms around her, (Y/N) was knocked out cold.

With his shaking hands, JJ grabs for a flashlight and shines it on the water. JJ knows he won’t be able to see anything but he can’t think straight. Just before he is ready to radio for help he sees a bubble rise to his right.

Not wasting any time, JJ dives into the water. His eyes spot (Y/N) a few feet down from him, unmoving. A shot of ice cold fear radiates through his body as he fights his limbs to move him toward (Y/N). JJ wraps his arms around her waist and propels his legs to break the surface above.

“HELP!!” JJ screams to John B and Pope. “HELP!!”

The guys hear him and turn to face his panic-stricken face. Realizing that (Y/N) is in JJ’s arms, the guys spring into action. John B gets onto the boat while Pope joins JJ and lifts (Y/N)’s limp body. JJ grabs onto the boat and pulls his body up and is quickly joined by Pope.

“Tell me how to do CPR!” JJ frantically shouts to Pope.

“You think I know?”

“You’re the fucking genius,” JJ lays you flat on your back, “so help me goddammit! I can’t lose her!”

“Okay okay!” Pope presses his fingers against his temple as he thinks about what to do. “Chest compressions! Two sets of 30 and then mouth to mouth. Check for breathing and then start over!”

JJ places his hands over (Y/N)’s chest and begins to press up and down. His actions start off timid, afraid that he will hurt her but feverishly picks up when he sees there is no change. Lowering his mouth to (Y/N)’s, JJ breathes air past her lips and sees her chest rise and fall. JJ can’t believe that only moments ago the last time he was this close the two of you were kissing, and now he is trying to breathe life into her.

I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her. She’s my everything. I can’t lose her…

JJ presses up and down (Y/N)’s chest to this mantra. Years ago, his mother left and his father became a raging drunk who is always on someone else’s meds. (Y/N) made him stable, made his life feel stable. Without her, JJ is scared he will end up just like his father. (Y/N) has showed him that there is more to life than the Outer Banks. They always talked about leaving one day, buying a house, running a business, and eventually starting their own family. Right now, all those happy plans are slipping past JJ’s fingertips along with (Y/N).

A burning rush of water flows up your throat as a coughing fit surges through your chest. Grabbing on to something nearby, you flip on your side to help expel the contents. Even as all the water leaves your system you keep coughing and feel as though you will never stop.

After what feels like forever, your coughing subsides and you feel two strong arms wrap around your torso. As you take in what happened, you feel your body begin to shake at the realization that you could have died. Tears flood your cheeks and fall against JJ’s bare shoulders. That’s when you register that JJ is shaking as well.

“JJ,” you say as your hand holds the back of his head, “I’m okay. It’s okay.”

JJ doesn’t speak but shakes his head against your skin. His head fits in the crook of your neck and you feel him breathing in your sent. It’s as if he doesn’t believe that you are awake and breathing.

“JJ look at me.” You whisper.

Reluctantly JJ’s eyes meet yours. You see his blood shot eyes and tear-stricken face. JJ leans his forehead against yours as his fingers run through your hair. A pit hits the bottom of your stomach as you think about how worried JJ was and how reckless you were.

“Next time,” JJ takes a deep breath as his voice catches, “can we just stay at the Chateau?”

“Yes, yes.” You sigh in relief.

JJ connects your lips with his. The kiss starts off soft and gentle, but JJ quickly turns it hungry and desperate. It’s as if he needs you instead of air. In this moment you make yourself a promise that you won’t over work yourself from now on. You’ve realized that you aren’t the only one that will become overwhelmed.

719 notes · View notes