#that would exist after their death and especially

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiii I was looking to see if your request is open but couldn’t find it so I’ll just drop it here and feel free to write it :) I love your writings! 🌸

May I ask for batboys reacting to shy reader who wants them to lie down on her lap after their long day. She wants to praise them, play with their hair and shower them with kisses :0 thank you!

Dick:

Would rest his head on your lap regardless of whether you asked him to do not, your lap was the perfect pillow for him and he will not have it any other way.

‘Hi baby.’ He greets as he beams up at you from the comfort of your lap.

‘Hi honey, long day?’ You greeted back, your hands already finding their way into his hair and began to comb through it slowly as he hums, burrowing himself closer to you as a means to feel more of you against him.

‘Yeah but it’s nothing I can’t handle.’ Dick replied and smiled wide when you kissed his cheek before kissing his nose, and felt his heart melt upon giggling you giggling when he scrunched up his face.

‘Is there nothing that my handsome man can’t do?’ You asked sarcastically as you pressed a kiss to his other cheek. ‘Or is he just the most perfect man in existence?’

Dick made a face at this. ‘Have you maybe considered that this handsome man of yours has an amazing, wonderful and beautifully cute spouse waiting at home for him as inspiration?’ He looks at you with a raised brow.

‘I’m the one who’s meant to be praising you tonight, not you praising me.’ You chuckled as you peppered his face in small, quick kisses that had Dick reaching a hand to the back of your head, holding you close so he could give you a plethora of kisses of his own.

‘Well what if we could just both praise the other tonight.’ Dick said against your lips.

‘I can deal with that.’ You replied as you spent the rest of the night whispering sweet nothings to one another and trading kisses.

Jason:

Your lap was his save haven after a long and tiresome day from having to listen to Bruce critique his way of ridding crime out of Gotham. So he wasn’t going to refuse your affection, not when you shyly patted your lap as an invite to rest his head and looking cute whilst doing so.

God had his permission to smite him to his second death should he actually refuses your requests to coddle him and shower him in all your love and adoration.

If anything the days where you offered up your lap to him were the best days of his entire life as he got to spend it looking up at an absolute angel that he was lucky enough to call his own.

‘How’s my gorgeous jay birdie feeling today?’ You asked as you kissed his along his jaw and stopping when you got to his chin.

‘I’m feeling fantastic now that I’m with you sweetheart. How about you.’ He replied back as he looked up at you with his pretty eyes that he knew made you weak. Jason only wanted to give you back the love and support that you give him on a daily basis tenfold, for it’s what you truly deserved in his eyes.

He loved you too much to allow you to settle for mediocrity.

‘I’m feeling much better now my strong, brave boy has come home to me safe and one less bruise to ice.’ You responded with a lighthearted chuckle as you lifted up one of his large hands and pressed a kiss to the back of it, before resting your cheek against it to commemorate his warmth and callouses to memory.

‘Don’t come at me with that sweetheart, I know you love icing my bruises, especially when they’re on my abdomen.’ Jason cheeked as he winked at you, taking pure enjoyment out of seeing your flustered face. It was a much needed breath of fresh air coming home to sweet, caring you from the cold, unforgiving outside and he cherished every bit of it for as long as he could.

‘Meanie.’ You murmur, booping him on the nose.

‘Meanie? How am I being mean chipmunk, I know how much you love my abs and my thighs.’ Jason chuckled as he booped your nose in retaliation. ‘Why do you think I never skip leg day?’

‘You’re more than perfect the way you are Jason,’ you countered, ‘perfect body or not you’re still my jay birdie. Forever and always.’ You whispered the last part as you pressed a sweet tender kiss to his lips as he smiled in response.

Tim:

He always finds himself perpetually tired from working himself to the bone, so when you offered up your lap for him to rest, the poor man practically sighed in relief, almost as if he were a man dying of thirst in the desert; finally having found the oasis he had been wandering aimlessly for.

‘You don’t know how much I needed this.’ Tim groans as he made himself comfortable in your lap, trying his hardest to not to close his eyes right then and there from the prepping of light kisses you were scattering across his forehead and under his eyes.

Gosh he hates how weak he gets from your little kisses but would die a little on the inside if you didn’t.

‘I’m sure I can take a guess.’ You said sweetly as you ran your hand through his hair. ‘You’ve been overworking yourself so much lately that I rarely see you as much,’ Tim’s stomach dropped upon hearing this but let you finish speaking, ‘but when I do see you it always makes me happy knowing that you’re okay.’ You then pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘I’m sorry for-‘ you cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips, muttering a soft ‘don’t. Don’t blame yourself for things you can’t control.’

‘But I can control it!’ Tim exclaimed. ‘It’s not fair on you to exhaust yourself on me every night after patrol and still find it within yourself to take care of me…I don’t deserve any of it as it feels as though I’m taking advantage of you somehow.’ Tim trailed off as he looked away for you as guilt are away at him.

‘Tim,’ you called, ‘my sweet Tim as long as I know your okay and come home to me every night, then I don’t care how long I have to stay up just catch a glimpse of your handsome face.’ You reassured him as you kissed his jawline softly, and Tim felt himself weaken under your words and affection as he looked back up at you.

‘You really mean that?’ He asked almost quietly.

‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it with all my heart my sweet, smart boy.’ You said while pressing a singular kiss to his forehead.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #Tim drake imagine #Tim drake imagines #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x you #nightwing fluff #nightwing x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine

[me-uglypretty]

Two times isn’t a mistake

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Summary: Yelena and Kate fools Peter into a web of lies that eventually creates something more than a mischievous prank. [Loosely based on this incorrect quotes]

Warning: 18+ (G), fake relationships, comedy, pranks, fluff | Word count: 2.9k

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Innocence is spread alike melted butter on a blazing pan while mischievous were alike shrewd spiders crafting their lines of webs for the mean of capture their preys. However, such forms of concepts don’t entirely fit the idea of a young Spider-Man. There was a part of it there, a part of it that wasn’t there, and he was just him. How else would anyone at all, describe Peter’s vibrant personality, if not the use of innocence? Perhaps, the observable manner of being far too gullible, and naturally trusting of his company, then there’s the hitch of alteration to his personality in the company of his enemy.

By short, Peter Parker is just Peter Parker. A unique kind of a boy with the sudden necessity to preach of never making assumptions of someone. Especially after experiencing the life alternating conversation with Yelena and Kate.

Peter had entirely immersed himself into a clear consciousness to understand his team and know of their life better than before. He promised with the utmost dedication to never assume or ruin any relationships with his oblivion. The later was briefly alerted by the smart spy, and his dear friend, Yelena.

Though, there were numerous times in which his imposed threads of conversation had deflated into a mass of confusion than the expected cheerful expressions. The barriers in eras and newfound phrases seemed less suitable as source of conversations for someone like Steve. It doesn’t hinder by the man’s different period of existence, a sort of similar reaction was met from Sam, Bucky, Wanda, and a clear look of distaste from Tony. His secreted father figure was the biggest disappointment as he was sure that at least that man was more familiar with the current trends.

And with that, the start of an entirely new threads of confusion by the honorary aid of Yelena;

“Hi Mrs Romanoff!”

The habitual greeting from the younger boy, if not evoking such puzzlement, was recognisably polite and sweet. It wasn’t anything different from his usual friendliness. Everyone at the compound loved him, either visibly showing their love or a silent push for his improvement, you didn’t fall far from the family tree that prides on protecting the younger Avengers, alongside the mischief pair of Yelena and Kate. Then, there’s the additional new member, Kamala. They were simply too young to had fallen into the game of life and death, and yet, they bravely stood and assisted in necessary moments.

However, confusion does circle in your mind at the greeting. A sort of continuous sound in your head. You assumed at first, that indulging yourself in a book had taken your attention away and muddled your focus that you had misheard Peter. Maybe—you might had linked his words with those unspoken thoughts jabbing in your mind and compelling your tongue to utter those words, which was partly influenced by the cliché book of two best friends falling in love.

You reminded yourself, nevertheless of how it felt, it was purely a mistake that you rather not question and avoid raising any sort of attention to the topic. It would make matter worse and more embarrassing if someone had heard or worse, the sharp ears of her sister.

Her, this beautiful and so wonderful woman, your best friend, Natasha…

The brash thoughts of her appeared and dissolved into puffs of daydreams. Instead, you offered a kind greeting with a smile that was reflected eagerly on Peter. His cheeks almost seemed flushed with a certain hint of delight at your gesture.

“It’s such a nice day today,” Peter remarked, pointing his forefinger at the extensive window just steps away from where you were seated on the couch. “Well, I’m going to head out and start revising for my exams!” He added, and waved his hands, partly struggling with the books in his hands.

You chuckled with amusement at his antics. “It is a good day out. Have fun, Peter.”

Peter grinned, it seemed as though, the back-and-forth conversation had drawn more confidence for him to approach you than exchanging a sort greeting from across the room. It initiated your hand to clasp one part of your book then close it, knowing that your desired time at peace in the compound’s only library, would meet a certain halt. This was the only room in the entire building that was usually deserted. People alike Tony and Bruce, preferred their books delivered to their space and stayed there.

“Are you planning to head out too, Mrs Romanoff?” he asked first, his hands grasping tightly onto his books as he continued, “It’ll be so nice to read out there!” and his voice edge with a certain excitement. There was a lingering hope in his voice on if you would decide to join him.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the repeated name, and narrowed your gaze on him suspiciously. It occurred to you at that moment, you weren’t imagining his choice of name to address you. It wasn’t a mistake by your immersed attention on a good book or the deception of your thoughts. The sight of his confused expression at your seemingly odd reaction, deflects it as an intentional choice of words on his side. Two times isn’t a mistake anymore, isn’t it?

A conclusion was drawn hastily at his misinterpretation of your relationship with Natasha—which is just a friendship, simply two friends with a close platonic connection—but what could had led to such an assumption?

There was a suppose idea of what caused it, but soon as the figures of such appeared, the shrill voice of Peter had disregarded your thoughts.

“Mrs Romanoff?” he had called out, once then twice, with the same use designated term.

With your best ability of a former spy, you imitated the most natural look as your eyes discreetly surveyed every possible crook of the library. It was ensured after approximately ten seconds that a sneaky and sole name of Romanoff wasn’t hidden out of your sight. An extra pretence of such isn’t injurious, if you could avoid finding yourself replying towards a conversation that wasn’t yours. Perhaps, Natasha was there, stood directly behind you, and Peter was dressing her.

Mrs was a far stretch, but answering to a greeting that wasn’t yours was far worse.

Despite your clear emphasis of examining your surroundings, Natasha wasn’t there. She wasn’t situated right behind you, lips curled into a sure smirk, and her eyes gleaming of such certainty. The imagery picture of her remained imaginary, as the room was still occupied by the same two occupant sharing a minor exchange of words.

An audible sigh resonates through your throat. “Peter,” you spoke softly, hands grasping your book, and with absolute look of gentleness on your face. “I think you’ve….” and those words that pools in your mouth, stilled there, as the intentions of clearing a misunderstanding was overwhelmed by doe eyes gleaming with such innocence.

“Yes, Mrs Romanoff?”

He doesn’t flatter.

Thus, there was two solutions in your mind to solve this unanticipated mistake. Option one; you confront the young boy, explain clearly and kindly of the mistake he had made with such assumptions. Option two; you pretend that his extremely wrong depiction of your relationship with Natasha or his choice of addressing you, had never happened which allowed you the opportunity of not confronting him and being at the receiving end of his gloomy emotions at his mistake.

The decision was made as you waved your hand. “Have fun, Peter,” you concluded, and accepted ignorance for this peculiar matter. Peter doesn’t apprehend the change by the wide smile that surfaced his face as he waved at you, and making a clumsy exit out of the library.

For a moment, a minute or entirely too long for your eyes to remained glued on the door. You pondered of reasons for the incident that seemed to had only affected you. What was the reason suggested your surname was integrated with hers? Most importantly, why would you associate you as significant other with chosen term of Mrs? To stress on the matter, why would he assume that you were Natasha’s spouse?

Confusion declined to worry as you continued, the thoughts that floods your mind screeched an awful sound of the sheer outcome of this mistake. Someone was bound to overhear Peter’s means of addressing you, if not the aftermath of his tearful embarrassment of the truth, then it’s your treasured friendship with Natasha. There was a timid chance of stopping it, and resolving the issue immediately. A step that you had avoided in moment of weakness.

Amidst the near possibility of such outcome that dithered in negative, your mind impelled another flush of emotions that spoke in vibrant words; would it really be such an awful thing, if you were to be known as hers?

The warmth that spread your chest at the question, stirs the emotions from within your heart that roused such thumps and you couldn’t hinder the reaction, even when she was close. It’s an unconscious reaction to her, and only her. You tried shaking your head, eyes shut closed tightly at the voices that dared you to accept your repressed feelings. Those thoughts crafted such visualising images, false moments for if the feelings were declared on both ends, and it was the pre-existing moments that you held onto.

Reality is far better, not some fantasy that kept you awake through the night and only finding peace when she appears, basking in the night’s heavenly glow, and seemingly aware of your restlessness. It’s not right to feel this way for your friend.

What Peter had stirred from deep within your heart, was a common mistake. It wasn’t a reoccurrence thing on assumptions made of your significant other. The numbers of such were down at proud zero. Nevertheless, it was a mistake made in broad daylight, and you continue to view it as that. The easiest route to not disrupt your brain’s buzzing at the sheer feeling of being hers—was ignorance, and you dejectedly accepted it.

If Natasha found out, it wouldn’t end well for your heart or the friendship that mounted as a safe haven to you. Therefore, accepting rejection was better than experiencing it at first hand. The thought of so, to be stood there and listening to those words spill from her sweet mouth, such awful phrases of unrequited feelings, and that assumable feeling of love, it was heavy in your chest.

You rather accept defeat than face your worse opponent; the false idea of her returning the same feelings for you.

In that moment of spiralling, you weren’t aware of the security camera that was focused on you or the audio that picked at every sound from the rustle of paper when you flipped the pages from your book to the deep sigh that settled an ache in your chest. It was clear there, red light beaming, and you didn’t bother for a common machinery that was presence in the compound.

However, that scene of you was effortlessly broadcasted through a tablet which was propped against an unused tissue box. It emits a glow, reflecting on curious faces and one that held a triumph smile.

“This feels like those serials my mother loves watching,” the voice spoke, softening when your hands had concealed the expression on your face. Kamala, the new addition to their plan, who had gracefully joined the duo during her training break.

Kamala had merely made eye contact with Kate, before she was ushered into Yelena’s room. A reason of dullness was mentioned, another falling as blame for her best friend’s absolute focus on refilling the tiny vials on her bracelet. It was common reoccurrence for them to invite the younger over since befriending each other after a prank that pulled the most gruelling of screams from Bruce.

If anyone had questioned them, Bruce’s hair was tinted blue due to Hulk’s DNA adjusting to a different environment. He did visit a planet just weeks prior. It wasn’t caused by the two friends of mischiefs, and Kamala had not encounter anyone holding a suspicious looking shampoo bottle. In her defence, she was slightly buzzing from Carol’s speech on her development.

“I don’t get it yet, but it’s interesting,” Kamala quipped, shoulder bumping with Kate as the other nodded her head, continuing with naming shows she had watched or they should watch together on their next sleepover.

Yelena made a noise, a mix of a sigh then a hum. Her elbows were pressed on her thighs as head was propped on the palm of her hands. “It’s easy. We trick Peter, he believes us, and it makes Mrs Romanoff feel awkward, weird…uh, what’s the word, Kate Bishop?” she titled her head, meeting the eyes of her friend.

“Strange?” Kate offered, shrugging her shoulder as her friend seemed to contemplate the suggestion. “Wait, that’s the doctor,” she mused, eyebrows furrowed, and the sudden change of conversation was pondered by the three friends.

“Look! She’s moving!” Kamala roared, her hands slapping the body closest to her. “Sorry,” she half-heartedly apologised when Kate had groaned, falling as victim over the younger girl’s excitement.

As the security footage continued, the perfect image of your utter disbelief and contemplation on life, boredom slowly slipped into the three heads that sought for a little more entertainment. In matter of seconds, Yelena begun with hurling a single black coloured hairband at Kate. It followed with more, the back and forth between them had gather hairbands on the bed and floor.

While two friends carried on their act of hurling hairbands at the other then cheering at a successful catch or groaning with the thin black rubber seem to had disappear after a hurl, there was still one that sat silently. Kamala hasn’t spoken nor joined in their conversation, a look of confusion on her face, contemplation seemed to swirl in her wide eyes, and hands that grasped at the tablet.

“How long till he realises that…” Kamala paused, glancing at the friends to ensure she was heard. “Like…why would ever assume this was real? Like Y/n being married to Natasha?” she spoke in half guesses, partly afraid of wording her exact thought while want nothing more but to share it.

The pair shrugged in perfect unison, and briefly sharing at odd look at each other, before smiling at their synchronise action. Though, in their little world of absolute chaos and fun, the notable expression on Kamala’s face wasn’t overlooked by Yelena. It begun with the tilt of her head with strains of blonde hair following the motion, sharp eyes narrowed on the younger girl’s expression, and it ends when the later shakes her head, diverting her attention back on the tablet.

Kamala waved her hand absently. “I mean…have you guys seen them?” her mouth parted at the question then closed. She repeated the action several times before her waving her hands warily as if emphasising an explanation without spoken words.

The mere clarification provided not sort of understanding to her words or the unexpected situation that had trapped you into their ploy. In her mind, words spoke of a specific moment she encountered from her first visit of the compound just weeks ago, and the unexpected moments after. The first had left her cheeks warmth, puffing out air in utter embarrassment and words of apology had stumbled out of her mouth.

It wasn’t her intention. It was an accidental encounter. Kamala had plead, hands clasped together with the most innocent look on her face for Carol’s agreement to never speak of that incident again. Despite the teasing look she received for a week straight, or when the people apart of the incident was mentioned.

The incident in question; two spies in a warm embrace, your hand grasping Natasha’s jaw while both her hands were firmly situated on your waist, and the mumbles of words that sounded like secrets shared between two lovers.

Now, back in the once comfortable space shared with her friends, Kamala cursed internally as her eyes shut closed, lips pressed firmly and tongue pushed at the back of her teeth. The incident flashes in her mind, so mortifying that she could feel the heat that roused on her cheeks and neck. It doesn’t aid her case, not when her eyes fluttered open to meet the stern gaze of her friend.

Yelena doesn’t say a word, but her eyes were enough to follow through the implications that lead towards more. It was enough for Kamala too, almost feeling like her heart was ready to spill every little secret that she kept so securely, and not just the story of you and Natasha.

“What’s going on?” Kate asked instead, her eyebrows furrowed as she looks between two pairs in an unwarranted staring match.

Kamala sighed, looking away to only have her gaze stuck on her hands. At that, her expression seems to merge into one of confusion then another that imitates the stern look that seemed fixed on Yelena’s face at that moment, and the later where she’s reminded of how pretending wasn’t in her expertise.

“Peter! Guys, he’s never going to find out the truth…he’s Peter!” Kamala forced those words out her mouth, arms raised wide to exaggerate the reason.

Kate wordlessly nodded her head, a smile spreading on her face as she continued the conversation on their prank. She doesn’t realise the look on her best friend’s face, Yelena appeared unsatisfied, but she pretended, brushing away the slight tense on Kamala’s shoulder with a smile and the can of soft drink that she handed her.

The air carried a joyous sound of young adults conspiring against their own, but it’s fun, it’s nice, and the blonde among them announced again of her best prank to date. While her best friend added on points of where her own idea had improved their plan, and Kamala sat there, grinning happily at the exchange. Almost forgotten were incident that neither one of the two of them knew.

NEXT

#remembertheyremarried #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #yelena belova x reader #kate bishop x reader

[partywithoutsmiling]

Do you think you can tell us what happens in would tour specifically at the end when the strings are broken? Is branch there? Does the world go gray or does it stay colourful because their technically is more strings? Oooooo how do the leaders react/find out about this random gray troll who sum how has made more strings?!?!

I think Branch would be there for sure

Skipping ahead of the timeline, after the events of the 1st movie- and realizing Poppy did miss him, he would be rather reluctant to leave his Tribe again for a while (his reawakened crush on Poppy certainly not helping matters)

However, he has now been on the move for so long, that staying in one place indefinitelly gives him jitters (and bit of a spoiler, but he did manage to meet at least one of his brothers on his travels, that made him realize that perhaps this Wanderlust is hereditary to an extent)

Also ever since returning to Pop Village, he came to realization that King Peppy seem to know more about the wide world than Branch had suspected; before, he just thought that the Pop Troll's ignorance stemmed from their isolation and decades of selective culling- knowledge and histories are bound to be lost and forgotten in that case, but given the nervous glances Peppy sends his attire and his rock guitar, Branch can put one and one together.

But Peppy doesn't ask and Branch doesn't offer any explanation, and while Poppy is curious enough to ask Branch where he went, she doesn't push when he just says 'away'. She still remembers when Branch just up and disappeared one day and no-one cared to notice that for weeks- to an extent, not even her, even though she is the most aware of his prensence than anyone.

After that fiasco with the funeral, Poppy just figured Branch holed up himself in his bunker to sulk- or so she thought- and will come out when ready. And truthfully, she thought that it was, for once, a good idea- because the mood of the community was not great, when it came to the grey troll, and she herself was at loss what to say or do to make it better. She could hardly defend Branch's actions for all that she understood his freakout (at least a little bit)

It was only when more time than usual passed that she grew concerned- while the other trolls around her didn't.

A little bit of angsty idea was that Branch, in his shame, left behind both Floyd's vest and his old Hideout Plan, as those were two mementos that really tied him to his old life, and Poppy- with bit of brute force- managed to get her way into the bunker and found both.

She was really just a teenager then- and was suddenly forced to come to a reality where a Troll that was supposed to be her responsibility as a future Queen just... left. Left, because he felt so unwelcome in the Village- unwelcome in her presence- that feelings themselves driven him away.

And similar to Branch, Poppy had no idea other trolls existed- there was only the Village and the Bergen Town, and all the dangers that existed between it. It was unspoken rule that to leave the Village meant a certain death- and here she was, holding Branch's iconic vest that he never ever takes off, holding a yellowed scrapbooked plan of childlike wonder, that revealed a familial history of heartbreak and abandonment (after all, she knows these names, she knows Brozone songs and trivia by heart)....

Honestly, She and Branch probably came to be peas in a pod, when it comes to feeling of self-loathing and lack of self-worth.

After all, perfect Queens don't allow their subject to become outcasts

Perfect Queens don't turn blind eye towards unjustified shunning

Perfect Queens don't certainly drive away their friends to perish in the wilderness

And for the next 4 years- especially after the uncomfortable realization that only handful of people even care that Branch was gone- she felt deep guilt and suppresed grief very keenly, plagued by what ifs; what if she went to him the day after the funeral, what if she checked up on him that very night- would he had stayed? What if she never pushed him like she did, secretly delighting in crafting the most annoying glitter-spewing invitations, knowing it irritated him What if she was kinder, respected his refusals better, listened to his warnings

Would he had stayed?

And honestly, up until the point that he returned, she had no answers, and thought she would never got any

So after their reunion, she burns with questions and curiosity- and holds it back, because he already left once, and she is terrified to push him away again, this time for good. Because that's what she focuses on now- he came back.

Of course, that relief changes nothing when mere seventh months after their peace with the Bergens- after they repaired their village, after Poppy got used to having Branch by her side, singing, dancing, playing, harmonizing

She is suddenly feeling like thrown into a cold water when he tells her he wants to go traveling again, and all the fears and past grief comes rushing

I believe they would have quite the row about it- unknowingly reminding Branch of the night his brothers argued and left, which only pushes him to be angrier- while Poppy uses her outburst to hide the irrational terror she feels

So it ends with Branch storming off in a huff and Poppy storming off in a huff- but when her senses catches up to her and she is quite panicked to make ammends and to sooth the argument over, Branch is long gone

Few more months passes, and while not as cheerful, Poppy tries to keep herself upbeat- then the invitation comes, Peppy finally admits to there being more kind of trolls, and to her it is like Oh, of course.

The excitement returning, she now has secondary goal to her 'unite the tribes together' under big party- she just knows Branch is living with one of the tribes now- and she is right, when she encounters him in Lonesome Flats

(Well, after he learnes that she got thrown into jail for her Crimes against Music that is pf)

Branch, naturally, still has no idea about the Strings (as he dipped out before Peppy gave that piece of history away) but learning about them now doesn't give him any more peace of the mind. Contrary to his first mindset in the original plot- where he wanted to avoid the other trolls altogether- he is now stalwart defender of all genres, and hates the idea of any of them disappearing.

(A side note: in his wanderings, I think the only rulers- or would be rulers- that he had met was Delta, Trollex and Barb; Trollex had just been freshly crowned and Barb has not been queen yet) (He and Barb probably struck a very odd friendship- where Branch had no idea he was hanging out with the princess of Rock- namely because Rock Trolls didn't use the term of 'prince' and 'princess' for their heirs- and he probably told her all about his travels) (Hearing that she is behind this mess makes him feel horrified. Did he gave her the idea to try and take over the world?)

Anyway, events happens, the finale comes- the final showdown XD

Only, the fight plays out quite differently

Branch and Barb being friends, he confronts her about what she's doing and quite stubbornly gets into her face about her ideas. Dares her to change him the way she wants to change everyone- dares her to erase him, like she dreams about

It makes her hesitate for sure- she already went so far, and wont be stopped now. Expression hardening, she aims her guitar at Poppy and strikes the chord- not expecting Branch to jump between them.

This event probably doesnt have the desired effect that she imagined. Had Branch had been just a normal Pop Troll- or as close as to one genre as one can get, he would have been Zombified without any issues.

But with the Power Chord, it's Strings against Strings- and the results are probably quite... explosive. Devastatingly so.

Only, Branch has an unknowing advantage- his seventh String, shining so innocently from his hair among the others.

When it comes to matching powers, the Royal Rock Guitar looses, pathetically so- and as the stage around them explodes, so does the guitar, taking the power of music with it, leeching everything of colours and light, untill nothing but darkness and greyscale remains.

Except for a singular troll that stands tall and proud in the middle of it all, injured, sure, but colourful, rainbow heart shining through the fuzz on his chest, the strings in his hair glowing brighter than ever XD

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls fandom #trolls branch #wanderer!branch au #ask

[remia-art]

Okay, but thank you so much.

Like, I genuinely like Tommy, and I think he and Buck are cute, but it kinda makes me sad to see how nice and happy and gentle the fandom is with his character versus like any of Buck/Eddie’s female love interests.

Especially when I saw people saying that Tommy is Buck’s most developed love interest?? Like, I don’t like Abby but she was literally a main character in season one?? And Tommy who has appeared in four episodes is more developed? Huh??

Anyway, it just kinda sucks to see people treat the female love interests in this show so badly. Like I can admit some of them weren’t written the best, but it feels like there’s a generosity that’s afforded Tommy that’s never been afforded to the women.

And again, don’t get me wrong, I lovelovelove getting to see more queer relationships on the show. I just wish that the fandom could realize that queer relationships don’t mean you have to like disparage every existing female love interest, yknow?

I get you on a spiritual level my dear. Thank you. Exactly what I meant. Some shippers automatically see me as their opposition.

I ship buddie, I really like bucktommy for now, they have chemistry and are sooo cute. Of course.

But I hate the total disregard of female characters in this fandom. As you said and I will continue : Abby started Buck's development. And both him and Eddie grew with each partner they had. And I love and respect all of these girls as characters, with their mistakes and wrong timing.

I just remember the times after Shannon died, I would come to AO3 and there would be tags like "Shannon lives", "we don't die like Shannon", "Shannon is a good mother" and so on

Like, I remember my dear fandom mourning Shannon, my buddie friend shippers being pissed about her death, noone wanted buddie to happen then on Shannon's bones.

Then we moved on, but it was their development nonetheless.

Bucktommy is supermegacute, as Tommy would say, they're "adorable". But if he wasn't a man... God... If it was Tamara (woman), we wouldn't be here.

And anyone who wants to fight me on that, don't bother. I was you when I was 11 years old, I remember.

#911 #911 abc #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie

[youareprobablywrong]

Here's the the thing. Israeli's have a point when they express the sentiment that Palestinian's simply do not believe that Jews have a right to exist. They do. Especially after the Second Intifada. If you don't know what event was, then you should brush up on your Israeli history.

Ultimately, more than 1,000 Israeli's were killed and around 3,350 Palestinian's were killed. Many Israeli's felt that the efforts to achieve consensus and peace with Palestinian's was fruitless. A naive endeavor brought to you by the Liberal Party. This period was also one in which terrorism - such as bombing busses - became pretty prevalent. This event lasted four years, and marked a shift towards the policies that are in place now that keep Palestinian's from being able to exercise a right of return.

But Palestinian's have a point when they point out that the occupation cannot last "forever." Indeed, it has no end in sight. While Israeli's (rightfully) point out that it is not safe because thousands of ordinances are hurled over the Gazan border every year, Palestinian's have a point that they, too, suffer from the violence of this occupation.

Not even looking at the settler violence, deaths, and injuries in the West Bank, the conflict just between Israel and the inhabitants of Gaza shows a stark difference in the propensity to kill or maim.

Any legitimate path forward is going to require huge concessions from both sides, lest one gets utterly wiped out by the other.

Utter destruction is not an answer though. That would be a war crime.

When we account for population differences (Israel has a population about 5x larger), we're talking about total casualties in the Gaza Strip being 86x higher than what Israel has felt since 2008. The reported casualties alone in 2023 indicate that Gazan's have seen 384:10,000 people killed whereas Israel has experienced 8:10,000.

Anyone who is refusing to understand the sheer human cost that this is having for both sides is not having a legitimate conversation.

#politics #israel #palestine #gaza #hamas #israel palestine conflict #idf #war

[conflictofthemind]

Let's talk about the insane Paranorman (Norman/Agatha) x Stranger Things (Will/Henry) Parallels

"Once upon a time, long ago, there was a little girl. A - a little girl who was different... Who was different from the other people in her village. She could see and - and do things that no one could understand. And that made them scared of her! She turned away from everyone and became sad and lonely, and had no one to turn to. The more she turned away from people, the more scared they were of her. And they did something terrible! They became so scared that they took her away, and they killed her! And even - and even though she was dead, something in her came back. And this part of her, wouldn't go away even after three hundred years! And the longer it stayed, the less there was of the little girl."

Will and Norman are both associated with zombies. For Norman, this is his obsession with zombies in pop-culture and old horror flicks (also similar to Will's own nerdy interests). For Will, this connection is quite literal as he came back from the dead. They're also both called Freaks. In both medias this is heavily associated with the characters' perceived queerness and their persecution, including the metaphor of their stories, is about homophobic oppression.

Norman and Will develop a psychic connection with the 'villain', who is able to send them into trances where they see visions, and eventually even whisper in their ears when the connection becomes stronger.

The 'villain' part is in quotes because, while they both occupy the role of the antagonist within their stories, the line is not so cut and dry. We learn that both Agatha and Henry were young kids (11 and 12 respectively), who started showing signs of magical powers, which led their conformist societies to be afraid of them.

The Puritan courts sentence Agatha to death on charges of witchcraft, where she curses the seven jurors to die and never find rest. Henry's story proves more complicated.... but you can see the parallel. Paranorman is in a way the kids movie version of the Henry/Will plot in Stranger Things.

Paranorman ends with Norman confronting Witch!Agatha at her grave, where he is able to pull through to the little girl that still exists inside of her and wants to be laid to rest.

It had been tradition up until this point that the people with the 'gift' to see the dead would read her a bedtime story to make her go away for another year, her soul still unrested and in agony. Norman's decision to try and talk to her himself is what broke this 300-year cycle, allowing her to pass on peacefully and saving the town from yearly destruction.

...I think we will see something similar in Season 5 of Stranger Things. I don't think that's too much of an unpopular or an undiscussed opinion at this point in time, so I won't push it too much further. Look up other people's posts on the topic; I'm sure they could articulate much better.

But the specific parallels between these two pieces of media are so stark that I wonder if this was another piece of inspiration and evidence we can add to the pile. Especially with the text: society oppresses people with powers for being different // subtext: society oppresses queer people theme they share in common, and the amount of 80s horror references that exist within Paranorman.

#will byers #henry creel #stranger things #paranorman #st parallels #so many things you see in paranorman that you wouldnt ever see in another kids movie... bless laika studios

[avaisnerdytoo]

One head-canon I've always had about Spider-Verse (ATSV)

Intro:

It comes from my only "dislike" - cause it's not a big deal - about the movie. Which is the weird idea that every Spider-Person is on board with the plan to let canon events take place.

Granted, the assurance that the Universe is dying because of it is quite the deterrent, however many agree it is the only thing that feels "off" for the characters.

I'm absolutely on board with the idea that Miles can remind everyone what's up, and I'd love that for him, but that still doesn't answer how everyone got there.

-

I wouldn't be surprised if someone already said this, but I didn't look, soooooo it is technically an original thought of mine... That I've had since the movie came out but never shared, so better late than never I guess.

- Actual Theory:

I think that the Spider Society recruits are all fresh after a big canon event - or maybe most are - probably not on purpose, but it has indirectly helped the cause and reduced resistance after the exposition dumb about their multiverse.

-

Gwen was recruited after one, and although it wasn't through a malicious way, it technically did happen to line up.

Spectacular Spider-Man, who for many is a perfect Spidey, also shares the Society's goals, which as seen in lots of fan art, sits oddly with people. What if he also just went through a Canon Event?

Peter B. Parker being an older more experienced Spidey could simply agree out of weariness, but I don't disregard the possibility of something happening to him either.

When Miles insists that Spider-Man always does both and Peter replies with "not always", I could see it also come from a recent scar, even if the scene is clearly referring to his monumental existing experiences.

"If it wasn't for Uncle Ben most of us wouldn't be here".

Maybe so, but that just sounds like an excuse at that point. One than in most Spider media would be pointed out, even if the statement is correct and valid.

- Counter Argument:

I don't think having this confirmed is necessary for the story, especially given that on its own, it's already a good exploration of grief and pain persisting even after the immediate shock has passed. As well as a lovely challenge to the Spider-Mythos.

They deal with monumental amounts of trauma, it's okay if they feel comfort in understanding a shared pain and even in the idea that by - in this case - inaction, the sacrifice of one cop, one father figure, one uncle, one aunt, one friend, one lover... Is vital to the safety of a whole Universe.

Now that makes their deaths feel like they weren't for nothing huh?

-

Anyway just wanted to get that off my chest... Months and months later after the movie came out 🤣

#Ava Speaks on Marvel #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #into the spider verse #the spectacular spider man #atsv

[aphel1on]

not sure how to phrase this but something i have been ruminating on recently is that xue yang is strangely fragile. obviously he is also incredibly resilient. he survived, and continues to survive, impossible things. he has a million barriers between himself and the world, but none of this actually matters when it comes to what he feels. everything is personal to him. everything pierces straight through all that armor and goes right to his battered heart, the heart that no one else believes he has. that even he is not fully cognizant of. the world strikes and strikes and strikes and so he strikes and strikes and strikes back, even (especially) when the wound is something other people would not think worthy of retribution.

xue yang would never realize this- would be outraged at the concept of it- but the way everything, everything is something to rally a defense against is in itself a form of fragility. he does not know how to let go of things, or let them pass him by. passivity is death. so he is ruthlessly cruel and violent. he projects himself as a lunatic untouchable by anything you might possibly do to him, and on some level he even believes this. but in actuality he is one raw emotional wound. he never learned to separate himself from his emotions, much less process them. the volatility is not so much insanity as it is the constant lashing out of an animal in a trap, and the trap is the world, and the trap is himself, and he is never going to get out. and like so much else, this pain is just part of the background radiation of his life. it hardly registers. to be able to register the hurt, you would have to be able to register a time in which you were not hurt.

i feel like it is a fragility that could blossom into such tenderness, given exactly the right set of circumstances. how at the very first touch of softness in his life he fell into a domesticity from which he never recovered. how much was there, still, to be salvaged from the cruelty. on some level i am always thinking about the little apple bunnies. about the meal for daozhang and the straw in a-qing's bed.

it was too little, too late. it shattered like glass when the world intruded back in. but the tenderness was there. no one, least of all xue yang, knows what might have happened had it been unearthed in him any sooner.

#he is easy to hurt. this is a fact. it is also anathema to his own self conception as well as the model of him in anyone elses minds. #xue yang #yi city #mdzs #aphelion.txt #xy #Contact is crisis; every touch is a modified blow #<- xycore anne carson quote. if you even care #meta #i guess? idk #it is always character analysis hour in my head #with a disclaimer that whether or not someone experiences empathy is NOT correlated to their morality #i dont think its necessarily that xy is incapable of empathy it's that any empathy that might exist in him is deeply deeply repressed #bc he views it as a death warrant. he (at every moment in his head and really quite often in reality) is on trial for his life #and it would be suicidal to give a shit about anyone who is not him. #especially since he knows- down to his bones- that no one is ever going to give a shit about him EXCEPT FOR him #the one chance he ever got to escape this cycle of brutality came with an expiration date built in by consequence of his past atrocities #and he only first started to comprehend anything about his own emotions after it was all already irrevocably fucked #in canon he is doomed. in fandom i am always picking him up and putting him somewhere kinder #shakes you by the shoulders do you understand what he does to me. do you. do you #if you tell me im excusing his crimes i will kill you w my lazer beam. #this isnt ABOUT THAT. this is ME BEING UNHINGED ABT HIS PSYCHOLOGY in a moral vaccuum. #i'm not saying 'hes sensitive uwu' but like i kind of am. unfortunately it mostly just motivates him to murder people #OH and when i connect the fragility to the tenderness i dont mean that i believe hes like. secretly soft #i mean that being as he is so deeply impacted by people's slights against him. he is just as deeply impacted by people's kindnesses #and he's not incapable of reciprocating it. he is INCREDIBLY fucking bad at it. but not incapable #ok i have to post this before i feel compelled to ramble any longer in the tags. jesus #got consumed by my a-yang feelings on a sunday morning sorry #not sure why i worded it as 'continues to survive' other than a constant subconscious denial that xue yang is dead

[zanathan-aisling]

Realized that my daydreams about retrieving Solanum from the Quantum Moon play out shockingly (hell, poignantly even) close to some sort of reverse tale of Orpheus

#as in. turning around to check shes there spelling her death versus having to stay turned around to be sure shes there keeping her 'alive' #outer wilds spoilers #solanum outer wilds #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #also it'd still be either doomed or extremely difficult (even discounting the sun thing) because like #she'd be a quantum object for the rest of her semi-existence pretty much #even if you got her OFF of the moon she'd still exhibit quantum properties in the same way other things entwined with quantum phenoma do #especially her since like. she's also literally speaking dead. causally her being able to exist YEEEEEAAAAAAARS after her species went #locally extinct is just makes that more apparent (given nomai can't be super long-lived given. textual evidence pointing towards them #being able to lose knowledge across generations within comperable spans of time) #though her exiting the moon and being succesfully taken back to Hearth or wherever would also mean she'd. #like. maybe also 1/6th exist there???? #though that'd only last as far as the whole loop thing. fuck that sun in particular #.....of course my little stories about whisking her outta there are mostly involved in grabbing as many hearthians as possible and going #As A Group to the eye sldhgkllhkdsghlksgdhlkgdhlgdsgsdhlk so the sun going kablooey aint a huge deal in that regard #(though the prospect of bringing not-accustomated-to-exploring hearthians to the eye is ghoulish enough in its own right to even consider.) #(maybe just stick to the main 5) #well #six #seven including us really.

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

The rest of the evening passed quietly, with Randall holding Emily's hand throughout the rest of the runtime, while Wilhelm mentally kicked himself for having made their guest so uncomfortable. He didn't know (he could he have?), granted, but that didn't really make him feel much better.

He knew what it was like to have what some would define as an irrational fear: There was a long stretch of time in Randall's childhood when taking baths was out of the question; after his accident, Wilhelm was quick to install a showerhead in the bathroom, so that he could at least take a shower after work. But even so, even the most shallow of kiddie pools or even a full sink gave him the shivers long after it happened, and to this day, he still wasn't all that keen on sitting in a full tub.

(He'd never confided this in anyone other than his family-he knew damn well the fellas at work would have a good laugh at his expense for it. Wilhelm Pace, who loomed willow tree-like above most of his coworkers and could sling heavy bags over his shoulder like it was nothing, was afraid of a little water? No, he could hear the teasing now, and maybe he could laugh about it now. But even with a little humor to take the edge off, he still wasn't able to shake that discomfort.)

And so, as he stood in the kitchen, pulling out what he hoped would be a little peace offering to Emily before she left for home, a little apology in the form of something sweet, he wondered if she was in the same boat; where something had happened in her youth that caused her to be so unsettled when it came to stories of vampires and the like. Maybe she caught Nosferatu on one of the late night channels as a youngster? Had a nightmare about Count Dracula hovering over her throat one night? He couldn't say. All he could say, really, was that he was sorry.

Coming back out into the living room, he flashed the young woman a sheepish smile as he handed Emily the little wrapped disc, saying, "Randall told me you liked the soda bread he made tonight, so I thought I'd share with ya a different sort I baked up the other day-more of a dessert-y bread, it's got raspberries and walnuts in it, and a little carraway seed too. I, uh, I hope you like it!"

#((most people probably would tease her for it! they'd see it as an irrational fear)) #((because 'haha vampires don't exist what's there to be afraid of'-but the paces are a little more sensitive than that!)) #((i love the idea of wilhelm being particularly sensitive on account of having an irrational fear himself)) #((on account of his aquaphobia! he had a traumatic incident involving it and probably knows how other people)) #((would react to hearing him admit this fear; so he's probably kept it to himself!)) #((and of course we know emily's turning was very traumatic in its own right; especially compounded with randall's death)) #((so her discomfort around vampire media is very understandable-and even if wilhelm doesn't know that now)) #((he's still not gonna tease her about it! he's a sweet and sensitive guy; randall really does take after him!)) #outofhatboxes #beatingheart-bride #V:Dark Shadows

[nebulouscoffee]

Friends I crave distraction. Please feel free to send me random Star Trek asks - about the shows, the characters, hot takes, theories, your fics, my fics, someone else's fics- anything is fine, I would very much welcome it

#it's been a rough week. people I know stop dying challenge :( #I'm sorry about the incoming tag rant but I literally cannot believe these last three months #I just got off the phone after what. number 7? 8? #and I feel so bad because it's not even MY immediate family so I shouldn't make this about me but like #these are still people who raised me #people who have been around since I was a kid #people I really believed were going to be around for a lot longer #(and pets. plural. what is UP with the number of deaths lately) #I'm just very exhausted with everything I'm not even crying anymore I'm literally just tired and I feel like I'm losing it #and yes I am not at the centre of these losses but it's still a cumulative effect...like spending hours & hours at funerals & on the phone #with grieving friends and family and trying to be there for them and not having any space or time to process these losses for myself #is not an unreasonable thing to feel exhausted from right? especially not after like three straight months of this? #anyway. would really like to think about people who don't really exist for the next few hours and maybe ramble a bit once I make dinner :)

[ukulelegodparent]

It is also my firm belief that any exhibition on 19th century politics and/or the leadup to WWI should be accompanied by circus music BC it's all complete and utter clown shoes

#like of course it would be somewhat insensitive bc it is clownery that very much lead to a shit ton of suffering and death #but like omg all the stuff that is nice about 19th century literature and art and music also very much existed in politics #except there it didn't lead to great things but instead some of the stupidest decisions known to man #ESPECIALLY anything after 1848 like jesus christ why does nobody habe clown's makeup on??? you all should! #also any current leftover from noble families back then who think they still have absolutely any rights to the areas their families #ruled back then regardless of whether or not they still are monarchs or not #like re:my comments about the prinz dumm Episode from Neo Magazin Royale #bc like yeah. 'hi my family has been significantly involved in the emergence of the last two world wars #specifically the first one and also a number of genocides etc. can I please have back my castle that was built #by your ancestors from your taxes for my ancestors who then sent your ancestors to go to die in the stupidest war™ #and that was recently renovated once again by your taxes? Yeah that one can I have it back please???' #unhinged how is this man walking around freely and not in professional care for his dillusions??? #also like 'well obviously Germany is a republic now. I respect that. obviously. yeah. but also if you ever want a king again I'm here #I'll do it no problems. also plz call me your royal highness 😌' insane people behaviour #girl I'm sure if I dig deep enough I can find some relation to some noble can I then use that as a basis to sue the german state to give me #idk a nice vase or something? #bc i mean it this random guy can do that why shouldn't I?

[tacticalhimbo]

it's fallout 3 time (console version; i tried modding it on pc but there aren't guides and i dislike vortex personally) and i might actually make an effort to expand more on tomo's story with the dlcs.

bc as it stands, the only canon one is mothership zeta (aka the best one). but i think it'd be neat if the others were too.

#txt #my ocs #especially operation anchorage- #bc it involves helping the outcasts and like. yknow how the splintered brotherhood factions are- #plus the whole 'suddenly being turned on and targeted' thing #and with broken steel it's like #getting a chance to live #and amending tomo's canon so that they do survive in their main au would be kinda fun ngl #but obvs keeping their synth au because i love that shit too- #unless something else kills them after broken steel and such... 🤔🤔🤔 then canonical death + synth au exist without much modification #thinking thinking thinking

[sreegs]

I reblogged it earlier but I'm glad the Something Awful Forums 9/11 thread was archived because it's an incredibly important slice of internet history. For the record I think 9/11 was thousands of personal tragedies for the direct victims of the attacks but one big national farce that led to America's ongoing slide into fascism, and the nationalism and remembrance around it is a joke especially in the wake of the same amount of deaths every fucking day in the US during the height of coronavirus.

Nevertheless I think it's important that if you do not remember because you were too young or just didn't exist on Sept 11, 2001 to read the Something Awful 9/11 forums to get an idea of what the internet was like at the moment when America changed to 24 hour news cycles and renewed hyper-nationalism not seen since WWII.

This all happened before Twitter, Facebook, before Discord. Before smart phones. Before most people had cell phones. When a lot of people still had dial-up internet, even. Some people in the thread were relying on radio because internet and TV weren't keeping up.

It was a live event of internet denizens reacting to the biggest national event (and among the biggest international events) of the past 25 years. It was also a slice of what the internet was like at the turn of the millennium. Not only that, but people accurately calling out who was responsible, and what would result before the attacks even finished.

Keep in mind that the links that follow contain images of the event, lots of Islamophobia, people calling for the Middle East to be nuked, people blaming Palestine, casual racist and homophobic language (this was Something Awful after all), etc etc. They preserved the first 17 pages which spanned about 24 hours during the events. It's the origin of the "WATCH BUSH START A FUCKING WAR" screenshot.

Links under the fold. I've also annotated the pages with notes regarding the timeline and any posts of interest. Note the thread was preserved in Pacific Time even though the page says times are Eastern. That's incorrect. Post timestamps are 3 hours behind Eastern Time, which is the time zone where the attacks occurred:

Page 1 - Note the first post was edited to include images of the second attack. The thread started after the first plane hit. Second plane hitting the WTC happens here too.

Page 2 - Poster accurately calling out Bin Laden was responsible at 9:14 AM EST

Page 3 - "WATCH BUSH START A FUCKING WAR"

Page 4

Page 5 - First official acknowledgement it was a terrorist attack.

Page 6 - Pentagon hit

Page 7

Page 8

Page 9 - Commercial flights grounded by FAA (Federal Aviation Administration)

Page 10 - First mention of towers collapsing at end of page

Page 11 - More reactions to collapse of first tower. People thinking it was a bomb or yet another plane. Rumors about a fourth plane just missing the White House (these are false and predate the actual 4th plane crash by minutes)

Page 12

Page 13 - By this point there's just rampant speculation about more bombs at the WTC, the US Capitol building being hit, etc (all false). Remember this is all just people reacting to TV news and radio and the rumor mill via phone, AIM, IRC, and maybe text messages.

Page 14 - By this point internet news sites are overwhelmed

Page 15 - Second tower collapses. First acknowledgement of the fourth plane that crashed in PA.

Page 16 - There's an abrupt time jump in the threads, I think it was the result of admins pruning the activity or the SA forums going down. This page starts on 9/12 even though it is page 16. American flag signatures and ribbons start appearing.

Page 17

#9/11 #something awful

[anirudhpisharody]

.

#i usually put this kind of stuff in the drafts so you don't need to read it. go ahead if you want i don't care just like. don't respond lol #but this is just for me to vent publicly so it feels like the thoughts went somewhere #my sister's best friend's mom just got put in hospice and they say she has about 3 more days #and i could hear my little sister bawling when my mom told her and it's breaking my heart #they're barely teenagers they're too young for this #and my mom's trying to write an email to the father and she can't fucking do it. i wanna help but she doesn't want any which i get #i can hear my sister either giggling or crying in her room right now i can't tell which but it sounds more like laughing. i hope it is #my mom and my sister are going to do to the hospice room to say goodbye to her i think tomorrow #and i really just want to be able to hang out with my sister bc i know it's gonna be really scary for her after but i have to work #if one person complains about their problems to me at work tomorrow i'm gonna get fucking fired for what i do next #that's probably not true but i'm gonna feel like it #i don't know this woman but i know my sister loves her and my mom is friends with the father so i mean i'm not really grieving but they are #and i wish i knew what to do #at least this was somewhat expected like she was in the later stages of her cancer but i don't think anyone was thinking it would happen no #i don't know if i should post this. i want to because i have so many posts like this in my drafts and it never makes me feel any better #but i don't like sharing ultra personal stuff like this especially about other people even if nobody knows who i am #i'll post it for now but i'll delete it later. i just need it to be out there a little bit so there's proof it exists #i think this is something i should be adding trigger tags for? #tw cancer #tw death #tw grief #shut up hanna

[toxicanonymity]

that scream blurb that you posting about Ghostface being unconscious and the reader testing to see if he’s hard…. you have to make the full fic now pleaseee omg it was so good

Every inch

1.4k / m!ghostface x f!reader / from blurb.

SEQUEL: EVERY INCH 2 🔪 THREEQUEL: 3

Slasher master list

Warnings/notes: I8+ noncon (ghostface unconscious) somnophilia. Based on the car scene from Scream II, but it's modern day (cell phones exist).  You can HC this as anyone but he's night walks coded if you read my other stuff.

Your skirt grazes his robe as you carefully stretch your right leg over the driver’s seat, trying not to touch him, trying not to wake him up.  It’s tricky crawling over Ghostface to get out of the car.  He smells faintly of weed and sweat.  You’ve never been close enough to smell him before. You’ve never been close to him at all for more than a few seconds, always with his knife in hand.  You hear him breathing behind the mask and assume he’s knocked out from the impact of the crash, but can't know for sure. 

He could be pretending for his own amusement, planning to taunt you then stab you at any moment. You’re going to have to open that car door sooner or later - it’s the only one left you haven’t tried.  It'll definitely make a noise. You hover there straddling him, delaying the inevitable. Straddling Ghostface, you think to yourself. Is this a nightmare? 

You slowly lower yourself into his lap, throbbing at the possibilities of what might await you.  Your heart pounds in your chest.  You put your hands on the edge of the seat to pull your body  closer and your heart nearly stops as  your inner thigh softly nudges  his hand.  But he doesn’t wake up – or if he does, he doesn’t show it.  Emboldened, you lower yourself a little more until your damp panties arrive at a warm bulge in his robe and your breath hitches.  He’s only somewhat hard,  but obviously packing.  He still doesn’t move.  His chest is rising and falling with his breaths.  You know he’s alive.  Unable to resist, you lower yourself a little more.  You tilt your hips and gently grind yourself against his package.  

What if the nightmare became a wet dream? It’s always turned you on, at least a little, but especially lately.  It’s been harder and harder to separate arousal from fear.  You’ve wondered if it was a sexual thing for him, the way he pursues you.  Stabbing is penetrative after all.  Does the thought of killing you turn him on? Would it turn him on to wake up to you straddling him?  After all, he’s only a man.  Why not, you think.  This could be your best chance to find out.  This might be the most power you’ll ever have in the situation.  You’re turned on thinking about it.  If you’re mere seconds from potential death, you have nothing to lose.  Plus you're curious what's under all this, and it's too risky to lift up his mask.

Fuck it feels good, and the fact that it’s Ghostface, the one who’s been stalking you, killing your friends, trying to kill you - that gives you such a rush.  The tables have turned.  You’re on top of him now.  You look around for his knife and it’s landed on the floorboard along with his voice changer.  You reach down to grab it then quickly stab it into the back of the driver’s seat at an angle so you can grab it if you need to but he won’t know where it is.  Then you return your crotch to his and a bolt of arousal slices through you when his hard package swells against you.  Holy shit he's hung. You slowly roll your hips against him, grinding into him, trying not to be too aggressive, but it’s hard to control yourself. 

-

His breathing changes and your heart jumps to your throat. You wonder, Is Ghostface seduceable? It might be your best shot if you're already getting his dick wet when he wakes up.  But there's always the chance he reacts violently, and now that you're up against him, it's clear you'd be no match for his strength.

Then you have a thought.  You carefully lift his gloved hand, and he doesn’t react.  You lift the dead weight of his heavy arm all the way above his mask, and he still just sits there, breathing.  You pin both his hands above his head, between the metal pegs of the headrest. His hands are large and the two of them together barely fit through the gap.  Then you slam down the headrest, pinning him there by his wrists.

His mask moves.  He seems to look at you.  Then a soft, low sigh.  You lower your crotch again and he’s harder.  You rub yourself against him slowly with your hands braced on the seat and have to stifle a moan in the shoulder of your dress as you grind against him and his cock swells even harder.  A soft groan muffled by his mask makes you wetter.  

You’re going to have to have him.  This is your chance and you can’t resist it.  Your inner thigh muscles begin to fatigue as you push yourself off his lap to hover again.  You lift up his robe, exposing PJ pants. Strange and not at all imposing, but convenient.  You arrange the robe behind his raging erection, then take a deep breath and pull down his waistband.  His stiff member stands at attention. You cover it with your warmth before the cool air wakes him up. A stab of desire shoots through your core as your wet panties meet his hard cock.  You rub yourself against him and your clit throbs.  Your core aches to be filled. 

You pull your panties to the side and nestle the swollen head of his cock at your entrance.  Then you sink down and fail to suppress your gasp at the stretch.  He moans but doesn’t move.  Your body makes way for him as you slide down and sheathe him entirely with your cunt.  His cock is nice and thick, it makes you feel so full.  It’s crazy this cock has been under the robe the entire time.  You wonder if you could just fuck from now on.  If he’d agree not to kill you - that is, if the threat of it doesn't turn him on.

You rise up, then sink down on him again, his size making you grateful for your ample wetness.  You lift and lower yourself and roll your hips into him. You try not to breathe too heavily as you feel it building in your lower belly.  You start to ride him less restrained, unable to resist fucking yourself on his nice, hard cock.  

-

His mask begins to move as though confused, and he grunts as he tugs at his arms,  unable to free them from the headrest.  He’s groggy and weak.  You’re not going to stop. You're too close to coming.  You greedily keep filling yourself to the brim with him.

His mask looks right at you. “Always wanted this cock,” ghostface says weakly, making your heart race.  “Knew it.”  Then it echoes from the voice changer on the floorboard.  Always wanted this cock.  Knew it.   He tugs at his hands more violently, then gives up.  

“Nasty girl,” he says, voice getting stronger.  Nasty Girl. 

He thrusts his hips up powerfully and you moan uninhibited. He thrashes his arms and stabs upward with his cock, bouncing you on his lap with the power of his hips.  Your whole body tingles and tenses, then you bite your own arm as your walls clamp down around him.  You come on his dick, then pull yourself off and he groans in frustration but has no way of getting you back.  

You open the car door and you’re torn about whether to make him come or leave him with blue balls.  You decide to jerk him off as a power move.  You kneel into the open door frame of the car.  You wrap your hand around his girth and fuck his fist.  “All ya had to do was ask,” he says.  All you had to do was ask.  You grab the voice changer and throw it down the street.  Now he's nothing but a man with his dick in your hand.

“Woulda given you every inch," he says. Maybe every inch of his blade.  He nods down to his crotch. "Now you know." His voice is coming back to full strength, smooth and low. It's a voice you can't quite place.

You know you should stab him while you have him tied down, but you're thinking with the wrong head now, unable to bear the thought of this cock going to waste. You slow your hand way down and edge him mercilessly.  His big, stiff cock twitches in your hand and you can tell he's dying for more.

You take your phone out of your bra and take a short video of him trying not to whimper, dick sprouting out of his unimposing pajama pants.  Then you finish him off and take a dick pic selfie with cum all over his robe.  You take the knife out of the back of the seat and leave him stuck in the car.

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Even if you're reading this way later I would love to know your thoughts in a comment! Knowing what you liked helps me write more. 🖤🖤

Thanks @darkscape for helping me brainstorm his tagline. 

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface x you #slasher smut #slasher fanfiction #cw noncon #tw noncon #cw somnophilia #night walks #ghostface #slasher fucker #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #toxicanonymity ☠️ #mickey altieri #dark fic #ghostface ☠️