#(and fyi that's on *one* side of the family. on the other side are a dozen half-aunts-and-cousins I've never met
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This election day, I'm thinking of my Nana.
I'm thinking of how as a young woman, she fled political violence in her native Colombia to build a new home in a more stable country. I'm thinking about how she lived a long life, but not long enough to see her home country elect its first ever progressive president (just a few months ago!).
Coincidentally, I was living in Colombia at that time (in the very city she grew up in), and I was able to witness what felt like a miracle. A very conservative country, suffering from the violent inheritance of colonization and catholic invasion and the war on drugs, against a backdrop of the dangerous global rise of the far right--this unlikely country managed to elect one of the most progressive heads of state in the world, in 2022. That's a pretty big deal.
And I'm thinking about this, this election day, because that election was won by a very thin margin. I'm thinking about how it almost didn't happen. I'm thinking about how it was only possible thanks to the highest voter turnout in 20 year. And I am thinking about the countless number of voters who chose to vote for the first time. I am thinking of the poorest and most disenfranchised citizens who showed up at the polls. I am thinking of the indigenous women who rode 12 hours on public buses to vote at the 'nearest' polling stations. I am thinking of all the money and corruption that went into preventing minority citizens from voting, and I'm thinking about how they showed up in the millions and voted anyway.
I am thinking that I would like to see a miracle like that in my own home country.
So if you're on the fence about waiting in line today to cast your vote, I hope that you will think--about the country you want to live in, the future you hope will unfold, and about all of the people it takes to make a miracle.
Because history may deem us nameless and faceless, but when we show up en masse, we are the ones who make history happen.
And yes, maybe also spare a thought for my Nana. Who was in fact a very angry and judgemental woman who supported the republican party for 50+ years, and who would be turning in her grave right now (if the family hadn't had her cremated). Think about the mean angry ghost of my Colombian grandmother, who very much wants you to not show up at the polls to support abortion and other sinful progressive values. Think about her. Do it for her. Do it for Nana.
#Do it! for her#not a shitpost#serious post#politics#ask to tag#I love you Nana but i disagree SO vehemently with almost all of your personal political and religious values#also you should have treated my mom SO MUCH BETTER when she was a kid. all of your kids really#i see you very much as a victim of religious trauma & childhood poverty#followed by the cultural isolation of being a first generation immigrant with no local hispanic community to provide support#plus the failure of late 20th century mental health care almost certainly compounded by medical sexism#recognize sympathize and am indignant on your behalf for all of those reasons and more#but that truth can also coexist alongside the truth that#hot DAMN Nana you and Papa very much failed to provide your children with an emotionally safe and stable environment in which to grow#and me and my sibs are still dealing with the generational trauma#and who knows how many of my cousins. I HAVE TWENTY-ONE COUSINS AND I DON'T TALK TO ANY OF THEM#that is too many cousins to not be in contact with any of them#(and fyi that's on *one* side of the family. on the other side are a dozen half-aunts-and-cousins I've never met#because Other Grandpa was a Certified Piece of Shit)#Anyway. ANYWAY...#apparently i really needed to overshare today. know what? no judgement. judgement free zone#i have no judgement thoughts or opinions i am finally FREE#........gosh that sounds so relaxing#ANYway#yeah. break the cycle of abuse or your descendants will grow up and critique your parenting choices on third-tier social media platforms#when people say 'they will always be remembered' at a funeral--that is a THREAT#what they actually mean is 'OH HONEYBUN YOU DONE FUCKED UP'#.........i want that in my eulogy actually
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Hi Can I request Lance Stroll x Reader where people think she's with Lance for just his money and was very rude or bullying her until they found out she's from one of the very rich families like that Rothschild family. That's all thank you.
money money money
summary: above^^
pairing: lance stroll x fem! reader
warnings: haters | suggestive tones |
genre: fluff | smau
notes: fyi I don’t follow rich famous families or anything so this might be a bit off 😭
words: 1k
LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO
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lance_stroll Summa dump☀️
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user8382 UHMM A GF???
user018 she’s prob just a gold digger
user632 or she’s just a private person and they wanted to keep their relationship private?
user018 no babe 🫶😘
“So Lance..we saw that you got up to some fun during the summer break, more importantly you launched your relationship!” An interviewer says, like many wanting to pry into the private lives of drivers.
Lance lets out a chuckle, “Yeah, she wanted to keep it more private for reasons so I didn’t argue..” He replies with a smile.
“And do you think she has ulterior motives?”
“Uhm no, that’s a stupid question..” Lance says, giving the interviewer a weird look.
The interviewer lets out an awkward chuckle, “It’s just some people can’t help but assume that she’s using you for your money, hence why she would want to keep it private.”
Lance gives the interviewer another weird look, then laughs. “Oh yeah! She’s definitely using me for my money!” 
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youruser yeah I only want him for his money 🙄
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lance_stroll 🤍🤍
lance_stroll where’s my wallet??
youruser oops?
user8392 wait who is Y/n dating???
user09811 Lance Stroll
used8392 who??
user09811 he’s a formula one driver for Aston Martin
user2991 she’s so real for that 💀
your-bestie actually obsessed with you wtf
youruser 🤭🤍
user0361 omfg they are so hot together 🤭
s/n.l/n when’s the wedding???
youruser stfu s/n
user6841 say it with me! GOLD DIGGER
user7421 k you’re funny
user7421 she literally has like double the money lance does 😭
user3548 someone at Aston Martin is getting fired 😭😭
chloestroll love youuu ❤️
youruser 😘🤍
lailahasanovic love you queen 🫶🫶
youruser 🤍🤍
user62018 how long have they been together??
user00831 in one of her videos from March she talked abt having to go on a date with a guy so a few months
s/n_l/n2 love you sisterr 💋
youruser love you too 💋🤍
“I can’t believe people actually think I’m a gold digger..” You say with a laugh, setting your phone down as you glance at Lance.
"Oh, you mean you're not?" He asks, his voice teasing, eyes glancing up from his phone to look at you.
You let out an offended gasp, “I can’t believe you would say that!” You say with a grin.
"Oh, but I would, and I did sweetie." He says teasingly, eyes not breaking contact with yours.
“You’re a dick Lance..” You say with a chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully as you get up from your seat.
It was a nice day out, you and Lance were at your house, sitting by your pool.
“Hey maybe you’re the gold digger, I do have more money than you..” You add on with a smirk.
"Yeah, right, because I totally need your money." He answers, voice a playful tone, he stands up and walks up behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist.
“I have a feeling that if I gave you money you wouldn’t be against taking it..” You reply, leaning back into him.
"Maybe I'd take it to shut you up Y/n." Lance says, leaning his face down to kiss the side of your neck.
“Wow, aren't you a charmer?” You say sarcastically with a giggle, pulling away from his grasp.
"You know I am. And you know you love it when I'm like this." Lance responds, grabbing your hips and pulling back against him as he continues to kiss your neck.
“No comment..” You say with a smile, turning in his arms so you’re facing him.
More comments regarding yours and Lances relationship had flooded in.
Your comment sections were filled with them, his too. At first obviously when you guys went public they were easy to ignore, you guys had mostly made jokes about all of it.
But now they started to get at you. Now you weren’t a gold digger, and you knew you should ignore them, but you are human.
“Lance..?” You ask out quietly, shifting in bed to face him. It was late at night, and you couldn’t sleep. Your thoughts overwhelming you.
Lance noticed the way you shifted in bed, a small movement you made, but a noticeable one. He was still wide awake, his mind not shutting up either, as he had been laying awake for hours already.
"Yeah, sweetie?" He asks softly, rolling on his side to face you, draping his one arm across you as he looks at you.
“It’s kind of embarrassing..” You say with a small chuckle, “But you don’t think I’m a gold digger, right?”
Lance's eyes widen a bit, taken aback by the directness of the question.
"Babe.." He pauses, gathering his thoughts, "Why are you worried about what people say?" He asks softly, giving you a light squeeze and a light kiss on your cheek, "It's bullshit. You're not a gold digger."
“I know, but sometimes I can’t help but let those comments in..” You say softly, moving closer into him. “I mean it’s difficult to constantly be judged and looked at..” You add on. You and Lance both knew what that was like.
Lance sighs, he knew exactly what you were going through right now, he had been through the same thing before, he was being criticized by so many people in F1.
"I know, but you really shouldn't care what they think." Lance says, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you in against him, "You know? If we know it's not true, who cares what they say?"
You smile softly at his words, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips, “Yeah you’re right..” You say with a smile.
With time the comments had stopped, you weren’t called a gold digger any more, and on the contrary, Lance was starting to be called the gold digger.
You constantly made fun of him for that.
You let out a gasp, looking at the beautiful pasta dinner Lance made, with candles and soft romantic music playing in the background.
“Lance..” You whisper out with a smile, spotting him sitting in one of the chairs at your dining table. “This is beautiful baby..”
Lance raises a single eyebrow with a smirk at your words, "I’m glad you think so..” He says with a chuckle, moving towards you.
He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you in close, "Now I better not hear any talk about me being the gold digger tonight, understand me?" He asks with a teasing tone, voice laced with affection.
You let out a giggle at his words, “Right of course..” You say with a smile, wrapping your own arms around the back of his neck. You lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips.
Lance smiles against your lips, pulling you closer into his chest. “Want to dance?” He asks with a smile.
“Of course”
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radio 🪩: does this make up for my lando fic? 😭 send in any requests!!🤍
permanent taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @itsprashimusic
#formula one#formula 1#f1#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#gently weeps fics#lance stroll x you#lance stroll x y/n#lance stroll x reader#lance stroll#ls18#ls18 x reader#aston martin f1#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one blurbs#formula 1 blurb#formula one imagine#formula one fic#formula one fanfiction#f1 wags#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#gently weeps blurbs#f1 x you#formula 1 x female reader#f1 smau#lance stroll smau
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Rabbit -- one of your cherished stuffed companions
Rabbit belongs to one of you dear people, and she gave me permission to share his story with you.:-) He was in the hospital about a year ago.
She initially wrote:
I live in South Florida and I am a big fan of your hospital! I have a stuffed rabbit plush animal, I believe he may have once been a Bugs Bunny plush, but to me he has always been "Rabbit" and I cannot find any leads online as to his "origins". Rabbit has been with me since I was 6 months old-- he's almost 24 years old! He's been my constant companion, and I still sleep with him and love him to this day. As you might imagine, this has led to many surgeries...
Lately, Rabbit has had very thin fabric fur, and you can see through to the stuffing (mostly on his tummy). He's also in need of some new stuffing, as his current has gotten pretty clumpy over the years. My mom and I have talked about possibly giving him a complete fur transplant on his tummy as we have applied patches before, but we aren't experts and don't want to cause him harm! He gets holes in his fabric very easily as he has become very delicate from love over the years... We are almost afraid to touch him with anything other than a hug!
Now there were many photos attached to this note, and just fyi, for diagnosis the more photos the better, but you all don't need quite so many close ups... here are three critical photos from his diagnosis:
You can really see in the last two photos how thin his fabric was getting.... but he has such a cute face, and it's mostly embroidered, and I thought they may want to keep that, so.... there were many (actually 7!) options for his care. Keep in mind, he's over 2 feet long, too. Here were the treatment options (a spa could be added to any):
1) Given his style of fabric, and his artistic belly patches, and the fact that he has embroidered facial features, we could line his body with new fabric. This reinforces his body and limbs while keeping his current appearance. He would get all new body stuffing as part of this treatment, as the stuffing would need to come out for lining and it can't go back in. But, a small amount of original stuffing would be preserved in a heart in his chest. With this treatment, he could still wear, but you would see lining before stuffing. Also, for future repairs, the lining could take the pressure of stitches away from his skin. I would also minimize the older scarring on his side.
2) I can do everything in option 1, plus line his head.
3) I can do everything in option 1, plus line his head and ears.
4) Instead of lining, we could recover just his belly and lower sides of limbs. His original skin (and old patches) would remain underneath, reinforcing the new fabric. I would get as close as possible to his current fabric color and texture. Perfect fabric matches are rarely possible, but if that is the case, I will send photos of him with transplant options so you can choose what you like best. I would also minimize his scars.
5) I can recover his entire torso and limbs (leaving his head and ears as is). I would also minimize his scars.
6) I can recover his belly and lower side of limbs around his patches (keeping his artistic appearance). I would also minimize his scars.
7) I can recover his belly around his patches and recover the rest of his body and limbs. I would also minimize his scars.
His person thought about it, discussed it with her family, and ultimately decided on option 5: recover his entire torso and limbs but leave his head and ears as is. They also added a spa for Rabbit, which would treat the lumpiness of his stuffing as well as clean him.
So Rabbit flew to the hospital and began treatment with his bubble bath:
He got restuffed before recovering, so here is his heart being made and installed with a bit of his original stuffing:
I started by recovering his gray areas, leaving the white of his pawpads and tail original. At this point, I sent chubbiness approval photos and let his person decide whether she still wanted to recover the white (which was in better shape than the gray):
His person wrote: "Wow, he looks amazing!! His chubbiness looks perfect, I can't wait to hold him! I would like to recover his white patches of fur"
So Rabbit got closed up, and the white got recovered, and then he was ready to fly home!
Approved, Rabbit flew home to Florida. When he arrived back cross country, his person wrote:
Rabbit is home!! Thank you so, so much!! He looks amazing, he's soooo soft and cuddly, I can't wait to spend many many more years with my darling angel rabbit! I cannot thank you enough Doctor, you're truly an angel!! I'm so blessed to have found you and your lovely hospital!! My mom and I can't stop gushing over how soft and cuddly Rabbit is, he's like brand new! I'll continue to treasure him for the rest of my life with your help!
#rabbit#stuffed rabbit#bugs bunny#stuffed animals#stuffed animal repair#stuffed animal cleaning#large stuffed animal#toy rabbit#toy rabbit repair#bunny#stuffed bunny#stuffed bunny repair
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Warnings : NSFW Oneshot of a head cannon I made. Smut with a dialogue.
Minor dni
Giyuu Tomioka x Hashira f!reader
Summary : The topic surfs up about your boyfriend Giyu being a virgin, even though the other hashira’s didn’t know his past. You began to have flashbacks about what it’s like to be in bed with him.
Notes : This was requested by someone but it won’t let me tag them. Sorry it took so long to write this, i was being lazy. I’m also really bad a writing smut so let me know if there are any problems. There was another person who also requested: @lakainamelolita
I don’t proofread fyi
You and Giyuu had a private relationship, it wasn’t because the both of you were scared of people finding out, but because it was better and easier that way.
The other hashira’s knew you two were close friends, but it never crossed their minds that you two were together romantically. Even though it was quite obvious the only person who thought you two were in a relationship was Sanemi. He shot his own thought down when he looked at Giyuu and then at you and said to himself “nah she’s not that stupid to date an idiot like that guy.”
How you guys started the relationship was weird, you two were strictly just friends with obvious feelings for eachother. Until one night out together you guys returned to your mansion drunk, and one thing lead to another and y’all had sex in one of the many rooms.
Both of you remember that night exactly from how it started to how it ended, that being your first time it was the best sex you’ve ever had. He was so gentle with you but yet still had you crying.
You assumed because you were close friends, it would be awkward so you started avoiding him. While you were working out one day he came to ask you why you were avoiding him and you being confused asked if he didn’t think it was awkward and he said no. So then boom friends again, then about 2 weeks after bloomed a relationship.
There was the annual Hashira gathering, this wasn’t a fancy event or anything it was just a usual thing you guys do just to keep up with eachother. You guys were just a big ol family that just stayed in eachothers lives.
While chatting, Tengen got the question about how sex works with his 3 wives. Does each girl get their own moment or is it just a foursome?
That question brought up a sex topic amongst the hashira’s just telling out their business because there isn’t a personal bubble around them. ( discluding Muichiro for obvious reasons.)
When Shinobu started talking she called out the fact that Giyuu has been quiet the entire time, then started saying “Are you quiet because you’re a virgin?” thus bringing about her calling him “Giyuu the virgin.”
Giyuu didn’t say anything, he just shook his head. As they were laughing about Giyuu being the only Virgin amongst them you started getting flashbacks.
When you and Giyuu were just friends, he told you about his back story. He was a quiet guy, but getting girls in bed was like a second nature to him. He told you about all his sexual experiences, the good ones and the bad ones. You were flabbergasted to find out this side to him. That proving the point “it’s always the quiet guys.”
He was such a slut and it wasn’t obvious until you were one of the girls to be in bed with him.
The day that you two made it official he swore on his life that no one will get in the middle of this relationship. You were the only girl he’s been interested in ever since he first met you. You were his dream girl and so very perfect for him. He even slit his wrist as his own way as a pinky promise. He didn’t know why he did it he just did for some reason.
That same night he wanted to prove to you that you had all of him. And he knew the best way to prove that. He initiated the first move, you knew what he wanted when he was kissing you and he started pushing you more into the bed than you already were.
Next thing you new he was taking off yours and his kimono. The first round he was simply making love to you, he was being gentle and he finger prepped to make sure you had no pain on your end. He slowly pushed himself in to make sure that you had time to adjust to his length and thickness.
His pace was slow but harsh, each thrust were hitting all the right spots so perfectly. The first round he was fucking you so lovingly. He had your fingers intertwined with his as he had your hands above your head. When you reached your orgasm he made sure to give you some time before he reached his own orgasm. Pulling out then cuming on your belly.
He caught you off guard when he used his fingers to scoop up his cum off your belly, then sticking it in your mouth. What caught you even more off guard is when he started pushing both of your legs to your chest hinting that there was going to be another round.
This time without warning he just penetrated you and you let out a little squeal at the sudden sensation. This time his thrusts weren’t slow, they were fast and rough. But because of the position you were in you couldn’t hear the sound of skin slapping, but there was definitely a sound.
His new pace had your head thrown all the way back and you gripping into the sheets. Your orgasm came faster than it did before, your eyes tearing up and sending you into a haze because you were already sensitive from your first orgasm.
when his came he once again came on your belly then scooped it up and stuck it in your mouth.
He randomly flipped you over on your hands and knees, arching your back and forcing your face into the pillow. He forcefully pushed himself into your hole this time and that got a loud moan from you. His pace was somehow faster than his pace from the second round.
This time you can hear the sound of skin slapping, he was so focused on making you feel good he didn’t even realize how much he was digging into the skin of your ass. Letting out small grunts as he watched you tear apart before him. It turned him on so much he started to pick up the pace.
You were like jelly in the palm of his hands, you were trying to tell him to slow down but you couldn’t make out full sentences. You started to cry at all the pleasure and then the pain when your orgasm started to arise. This was the third orgasm i’m the row and it was starting to hurt because you were so sensitive.
The sex was so good but it was the orgasm that had you crying beneath him. When you came you had blacked out for a second and then came back to reality when he asked for permission to cum inside of you.
This time you told him yes, and that he did. After both of you collapsed and you snuggled up next to him as he apologized and started kissing your forehead.
You said that the both of you should go and shower together and he agreed. The beginning of the shower was just a normal couples shower, until one thing happened and then another then a 4th round became in that shower.
You snapped out of your thoughts, clearing the flash back you just had when Giyuu touched your thigh. “You okay?” he was a tiny bit concerned on why you all of a sudden got so quiet.
You shook your head yes, but you had the reason for the quietness written all over your face. He couldn’t help but give you a small smirk.
He was happy to know that you knew who he really was and you being the only person in the room who’s got to experience it.
Now i have to write the next fanfic for the next person (i’m just doing fan service)
#demon slayer#kny headcanons#kny oneshots#demon slayer smut#kny smut#giyuu x reader#giyuu smut#giyuu oneshot#giyuu headcanons#giyuu tomioka#giyuu tomioka smut#giyuu tomioka x reader#giyuu tomioka x reader smut#demon slayer smut head cannons#demon slayer giyuu tomioka#demon slayer giyuu#demon slayer x reader
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The Waynes' Nanny
Notes: So, this is my oopsy of adding another story to my roster, but oh well. Here's my other note: Just a little side note. To make this story work, I had to de-age the majority of the characters. So, Dick is 15, Cass 10, Jason 9, Tim 7, Duke 6, and Damian 4. Just FYI. Obvi The Nanny Inspired
Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batfamily, platonically, x reader
Summary: One day, after getting fired from your job by your ex, you somehow ended up in Wayne Manor as the family's new nanny. Working with six kids is tough enough, but the handsome, rich, and emotionally confused father, billionaire Bruce Wayne, who is just too charming makes it a bit more difficult as your feelings for him confuse you. Nonetheless, you love the job and the kids, but soon enough you realize that maybe you're falling in love with the boss, too.
Pilot Pt. 1
“You have to be kidding me, fired?” You said shocked, leaning over the counter.
Your boyfriend then quickly added, “And, I’m breaking up with you.”
The words could not come off your lips. Instead, you babbled for a good thirty seconds before just turning on your heel to leave. You stopped a couple of times to say something, but the shock was still settling in. It wasn’t until you were outside, watching people on the street that your senses came back. Turning around, you sucked in a breath and threw open the store door.
You pointed at your ex and loudly announced, “You have a small dick, and I’m collecting unemployment! So, hah!”
Not feeling the victory, but glad that there were more than a dozen people to continue the rumor of your boyfriend’s supposedly small penis, you left.
Luckily, you were quick to find another gig thanks to a family friend. Granted, you hated going door to door trying to sell insurance in Gotham, but it paid you just enough not to be out on the street. This week, however, you were assigned to the other end of the city—The rich part. And, it certainly did live up to your expectations. These people had yards and gardens, and the air even smelled better. If you could only find a rich man, you think you’d be very happy in such a place.
You looked down at the list of addresses your boss had given you before looking back up at the impressive sight of the house. With a sigh, you pressed the buzzer on the gate and went over your script.
“Hello, my name is…”
Before you could finish a British accent came through the buzzer. “Are you here for the nanny position?”
Looking around, you didn’t see a reason as to why you shouldn’t say yes. Absent-mindedly, you said, “I could be.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh, um, yes! Yes, I am.” It couldn’t hurt
Suddenly, another buzz and the sound was clicking of the gate unlocking. Cautiously, you pushed your way through and you headed up the path to the front door. It was a near quarter mile to get to the house and up a hill. By the time you got up to the front of the house, you were winded and slightly sweaty. At the top of the stairs stood an old man in a suit, looking down at you with indifference. Slowly, you climbed the stairs to him.
“You really gotta warn a girl if she’s gonna take a hike,” You huffed.
“Most people drive,” The old man said, and you recognized the accent from the buzzer.
You snickered at the old man, following him in, and you were amazed by just how wonderful the place was. As you entered, you did a turn, and you were amazed by just how big the house—No, mansion—was.
“Would you like me to present your resume to Mr. Wayne?” Asked the man.
Luckily, you were quick on your feet, “No, I’ll do it myself. Thank you.”
The man relented, giving you a disbelieving look, and went away. You sat down in one of the chairs in the foyer, quickly pulling out some papers to write some type of passable resume. As you were going for a pen, you realized quickly that you didn’t have one. Panicked, you looked around for one.
“Ugh,” A voice said, and a boy no older than seven or eight stumbled from a doorway. On him, fake blood and a knife. He cried, “I’m dying!” before collapsing onto the floor.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a pen, would you?” You asked, but the boy didn’t respond. Defeated, you decided quickly what you said as you saw the old man and a younger, much more handsome return.
“Tim,” The younger man said. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t scare the guests.”
The boy opened his eyes, “I'm studying people's reactions to gore and pain.”
The man rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to you. He held out his hand toward you to shake, you took it and instantly liked the way his grip was strong. “I’m Bruce Wayne—”
“Oh, yeah! I’ve seen you on TV,” You said excitedly. “I loved the black suit you wore for that ceremony in the park last month.”
Mr. Wayne seemed taken aback by the compliment, but thank you anyway. “Just follow me into the kitchen. We can talk more there.” As he started to lead you away, he turned to the boy still lying on the floor. “Tim, go clean up, please.”
“I will, but only because you said please!” The boy cried out.
Mr. Wayne shook his head and asked you not to mind him for now. Smiling, you replied that it was no big deal, kids were going to be kids either way. He seemed to agree with you on that and asked you more about yourself. You told him as much as you could think of, not willing or wanting to hold anything back.
When you finally sat at the kitchen table did you stop talking to let Mr. Wayne talk, but he seemed more pleased to listen. Though, you knew better than to rattle on more than necessary. Maybe, you thought, this was why so many women thought him to be such a charming guy.
“Can I see your resume, then?” He asked.
Laughing nervously, you said, “Oh, uh, well, you see, I lost it on my way over here.”
“Is that right?” Mr. Wayne said, sounding like he didn’t entirely believe you.
“Yes! Yes, it’s the damnedest thing,” You said. “I always seem to have these bouts of terrible luck.”
“Uh-huh,” He said.
You were going to answer when a voice called out, “Dad!”
Just then, two boys, one about fifteen and the other around ten, walked in. They seemed surprised to see you when they entered, glancing at their father before telling you hello. You got up, walking over to the boys and cupping their cheeks.
“My, look how handsome!” You looked over your shoulder at Mr. Wayne. “And those pretty blue eyes! They must get them from you.”
“We’re adopted,” The younger one said. “And I’m Jason.”
You grinned and bent over to look at the boy. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m…”
“You’re the new nanny?” The older boy said.
You started to answer, but Mr. Wayne cut you off. He told the boy, named Richard, that he could be nicer to you. Richard, or Dick as he called himself unfortunately, protested that Bruce was shuffling his responsibilities on some random lady from the inner city. Bruce was quick to dismiss him to his room, stating that they would speak later, and immediately apologized to you.
“A kid makes a smart-ass comment, what’re you gonna do?” You smiled.
“Right,” Bruce cleared his throat, not paying attention to what you were saying. “Well, those two were the oldest boys, I have one girl between them. Then, it’s Tim, Duke, and Damian. My youngest is four.”
“Trying to build a basketball team, Mr. Wayne?” You couldn’t help, but laugh at your joke. He didn’t seem as amused by it, so you quickly went quiet.
“Yes, well, thank you for coming, but I don’t think I’m in the mood to hire sales girls from off the street.”
You rolled your eyes, mumbling that you could do it and that you had plenty of experience in taking care of children as you babysat a lot when you were a teenager. Mr. Wayne didn’t seem to hear anything you said, though, nor the phone ringing off the hook.
“Alfred! Will you get that,” He called, seeming a bit stressed.
“Oh, you cannot be that rich not to answer your phone,” You said, getting up and picking up the phone from the receiver. Putting it to your ear, you answered, “Wayne residence.”
“Give me that,” Mr. Wayne said and snatched the phone from your hand. “Hello?”
He went back and forth with the person on the other line, talking about how he needed a nanny. Yet, he seemed to be getting nowhere. The entire time, you laid yourself in front of him as he tried to talk to the person on the other end to get him a nanny. After a minute or two, he put the receiver down and looked at you.
You grinned, knowing that you got the job. “You’re hired—On a trial basis!”
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Wayne!” You threw yourself at him, squeezing him tight. “You won’t regret it.”
“Right,” Bruce cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll have Alfred show you to your room—”
“I get to live here?” You asked excitedly.
Bruce almost smiled, but held it back. “Yes. If you like.”
“If I like,” You laughed like he was joking. “Of course. Oh, it’s going to be great.”
Mr. Wayne nodded, acting like he believed you, but didn’t know for sure. He wondered if he made the right choice not only for his children but for himself as well. Since he only knew you for half an hour, he found himself being intrigued by you.
Despite this, how he felt didn’t matter. All that did matter was if the children liked you and if you were competent enough to look after them. After all, it wasn’t like he was going to fall in love with you.
#jason todd#red hood#bruce wayne#batfamily#clark kent#dick grayson#alfred pennyworth#damian wayne#damain al ghul#tim drake#nightwing#robin dc#robin#cassandra cain#duke thomas#bruce wayne is a good father#dc batfam#batfamily shenanigans
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A Fantasy
Pairing: YANDERE Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader
Cw: NSFW, DARK, non-con, dub-con, non-con drugging, somnophilia, creampie, possessiveness, obsessiveness, breeding, marking, blood, biting, Stockholm syndrome, tell me if I missed any.
Wc: 9.8k
(A/N): FYI, Tracer’s (Overwatch 2) the reader’s mentor.
Requested by : @oyasumimosura
What stood before you was a great field of devastation and ruin, burned and broken buildings that used to be warm homes, lively parks that were turned to ashes, trees and plants laid wasted around dilapidated cars with broken windows and bent metal. People, young and old, laid motionless on the scarred ground, burnt black or left intact in a pool of their blood. Some were holding hands, a family, friends, a couple. Others were alone, forgotten, and left to their sad deaths.
One minute you were rushing through a portal, behind your mentor and besides your teammates, the Cavalry, as she liked to say. Rushing through fights to protect humanity and omnics and its future. The mission was like the one yesterday, the preparation, the meeting, the briefing, and the deployment, but the fate of it changed. A portal malfunctioned, it sent you elsewhere, far away and lost. This wasn't your world, this wasn't your universe, but now, you were in someone else's universe, playing their game.
The clock had struck and time felt meaningless on the battlefield, the sounds of beating aircraft blades, the booming shot of guns and the shockwaves of grenades were all people could hear. Soldiers were the only ones left, fighting against the other side - the enemy, the traitors, the terrorists - until one came out victorious.
While purposeful, the deaths and ruin of this Occidental village were regretful, families shattered, memories lost, and homes destroyed. All you could do was run around, trying to find the source of those cries you heard. A little girl's, whose tears welled for the mother she lost in the tirade of war.
The longer you ran, the closer you got to her. The girl's purple shirt and jeans were dirtied with soot and ash, dark from what was left of her village. You blinked, fazing through time and space to get to her more quickly. Rounding broken walls and jumping over fallen debris, you left a blue trail behind you, blinking your way to the crying kid.
You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into your chest when you got to her, recalling to your previous position with the girl, behind a brick wall. She clung to you, eyes red and swollen, lips bit red and her cheeks puffy. She looked like a seven-year-old child, alone, lost, and miserable without her parents or protection.
"Don't worry, love, " you used the words Tracer often used when she saved someone, her reassuring and calm voice. "I'm here."
Those zigzagging lines of light lingered in his mind, a shadow of a woman making her way through the abandoned town. The spring in her steps and the flexibility of her movements, jumping higher than any man should've been able to and changing directions so easily. She was fast, vanishing in a line of blue light and then appearing once more meters away.
Ghost saw her save a child, no older than an eight-year-old - or so he thought. A lone child on the battlefield was dangerous, a death wish for the kid if his enemies got to her first. Fortunately, the athletic woman got to the kid before anyone could, swiping her into her arms and disappearing in a blink. Seconds ago, she stood next to the pole, now all that was left was a blur of blue. She had disappeared as quickly as she appeared.
He picked at the memory constantly, powers, it seemed, were her thing, speed and agility of which no one should be able to wield, but she did and she used it to save a child. Although he admired that from a stranger, the question of her being a danger to them was still left unanswered. Whether she could be trusted or an unknown enemy that would tip the scales in the enemy's favour.
However, months later, after the war ended, there weren't any sightings of her, anywhere on earth, as if she had disappeared - again. He remembered her, though, the determined glint beneath blue goggles, her hair tied in a ponytail, flowing through the air, and her pretty lips.
She could still be in Europe, she probably was, or so he hoped. It would mean that he could run the chance of meeting her, to quench his gnawing curiosity. It would be difficult - near impossible - to find her in the millions living in Europe, but he would keep his eyes open, he had questions and he wanted answers.
He wasn't a believer per se, nor was he an atheist, he had a veto in what he put his trust and belief in. He wouldn't curse others for not believing in a God or gods, he wouldn't scoff at those who believed in them, and everyone had their rights. At this moment, however, the thought of God helping him had crossed his mind.
He had dared cross his limit, entering a small cafe - or a bistro, he wasn't sure - blocks from his flat. It was small and homely, the air was warm with the smell of coffee and tea and the place welcoming with the smiling faces of the cafe's workers.
He sat far into the shop, his back against the softness of the booth's couch, bored eyes observing his surrounding for any danger. Even off duty, the habits that ensured his safety still stuck to him, following him wherever he went.
The waitress, a young-looking woman, with striking eyes and hair pulled in a bun, walked his way. Her face looked familiar, lashes framing her pretty eyes, blushed cheeks and beautiful full lips. He knew those lips, and those eyes, and her build, short and athletic, but strong.
It was the child-saving vigilante he saw, only without her blue goggles and her tight bodysuit, blue and white that emphasized her muscles (it was probably made for usefulness, sticking to her body without any stray cloth when she ran, it made running faster and easier.). Wearing a chemise and black pants, instead of the standard skirt the other women wore, her shoes clicked as she approached him, hand pulling out a pad from her black apron's pocket.
He froze when her hand disappeared into her pocket, the items inside were unknown to him, and the content could be dangerous to him. He had to remind himself that she was a civilian at the moment, not an enemy vying for his head. She was safe, as long as she didn't attack him. He waited for her to speak, her pretty lips forming the words she wanted to tell him.
"Good morning, sir," her voice was melodic, soft and inviting. He craved hearing her speak to him with the soft lull of her tone. "Have you decided?"
Decided? What had she - you - meant by "decided"? Then he remembered he was in a cafe, people walked in to order food and drinks, to go or to eat there. He couldn't drift off like that, he couldn't disappear into the darkest depth of his mind. It was a dangerous place.
He cleared his throat, blonde lashes fluttering as he blinked, staring at your face. You were pretty. His words rumbled out, slightly muffled by his black mask: "No." He neither spoke more nor less, blunt as a hammer and sharp as a knife.
"Would you like more time to decide?" You were polite, smiling at him although his only spoken words were brash. He didn't want you to go yet, he just found you, heard and spoke to you,
"Anything you- uh... you recommend?"
You perked up at his question, seeing a more approachable change in him. Your smile widened, brighter than before as you listed off the menu by heart. Your optimism reminded him of Johnny's, expressively happy and grinning. The cafe - Ma's cafe, he learned from you - had its famously brewed tea latte, a mixture of earl grey and vanilla latte.
He took your recommendation, and you left with a skip, apron bouncing with each step. He watched you walk behind the counter, shuffling around with cups and the machine - he thought it was a coffee machine, those with pre-made coffee in its tank - meticulously, knowing well what he ordered.
You came back minutes later with a smoking mug filled with a milky brown liquid. It was fitting its name - London fog - with the white swirls that mimicked the fog that filled the cool, morning air until early evening when the sun started heating everything.
"Thank you...?" Ghost tried, wanting to know your name, you didn't have a tag on your apron.
You gave him your name with the smile you gave everyone, a customer service kind of smile that would assure that you wouldn't get any complaints about your service. He repeated your name a few times in his mind, memorizing every syllable and the way it sounded so well.
He wanted to repeat your name, whisper it lowly, but he had to make sure you were farther away from him, or you'd hear him obsessively call you. It rolled off his tongue amazingly, a perfect symphony with his deeper, raspy voice. He'll get to know you better, he planned on visiting more often, to learn your schedule and watch over you.
He pushed every intrusive thought back, bringing the mug to his lips (he had pulled down his mask to drink). It was sweet, slightly bitter from the coffee, but sweet nonetheless, perhaps a bit too sugary. He savoured the drink you made him, breathing the warm aroma of your mix. You'd made it, you had it, and served it. It was made for him, with your care and smile.
Ghost came by the next week, wearing the same black hoodie and dark jeans. He sat at the same booth and waited for you to walk by with the same smile as the prior week. You did, eyes wide with recognition when you caught him staring at you from the corner booth. You made your way to him with a grin, clad in a similar uniform and a serving tray under your arm.
"You came back," your calming voice reached his ears, giving him something to cling to in the cafe.
He liked habits, familiar things and usual occasions, but he hated the new and the unknown. They were dangerous, and deadly in his line of work. You expressed your gratitude at the tip he left you, way over the usual price other usual clients would.
"I never got your name."
He hadn't given you his name? That's right, he didn't for fear of people finding out his true identity, a broken man hidden under the mask of a monster - a Ghost. Trust issues stacked with insecurities and his introverted tendencies had made forming relationships much harder, making friends complicated with the backlash of his many blunt comments and irritated huffs, and letting people in from the fear of being betrayed, backstabbed, beaten and abandoned.
You were a vigilante, you saved a girl, you smiled at him and greeted him like you would a friend. You didn't shy away, nor freeze at the mere sight of him. You were new, but you were good - or so he thought you were. To him, you could be the achieved unachievable, a friend made from dust, a relationship formed from miracles and normalcy.
He blinked, mumbling lowly his name, low enough that it only reached your ears. You cocked your head downward, your smile widening as you repeated his name.
"Nice to see you again, Simon. I'm happy to see you again."
He nearly shuddered from hearing his name roll off your tongue, so melodically spoken. He wants to hear you call his name again and again and again, as many times as you could until he got sick of it (he probably wouldn't, he was already addicted to the way you spoke).
He dozed at your words, that you were glad he came back. He was glad too. He wanted to come by the day after his first visit, but it would seem too strange, perhaps dangerous to see him every day at the same spot, at the same time of day. He was a man of schedules, organized and neat planning.
He figured he would start by buying once a week for a month or two, then change it to twice a week for the following months, until seeing him every day would become the norm for you. He would kickstart the routine and make it a usual appearance in your life. He would make *him* a usual appearance in your life.
"Same as last time, Simon?"
God, he loved hearing you say his name. He simply nodded, he would make it his usual, a hut sweet, but enough to drown the bitterness in his soul.
The leaves turned darker, shrivelling and dropping dead to the ground. The mellow sky grew gloomy, and colder with each passing day until it dropped so low that Ghost had to wear a thicker jacket over his usual hoodie. Autumn was at an end and winter crawled ever so closer.
He was back from deployment, on a temporary leave to "relax and diffuse" as Laswell said. Everyone was back home, Price with his cigar and Nik, Gaz back home with his girlfriend, Soap with his rowdy family of seven and Roach went home to open arms and warm welcomes from his parents.
Ghost only had an empty apartment - or he used to, he moved to a house on the quieter side of town - and the cute, dazzling waitress that served at Ma's cafe. That's where he was going, he texted you before he left, letting you know that he was back and ready for a hot cup of London fog and brunch.
You read his message, replying with a "Copy that, Lieutenant". It became a running joke between you after he told you about his work, nothing classified or too detailed, but enough to let you know he was built to fight and survive.
The bell rang when he pushed the door, seeing you peer out of the kitchen once he stepped in. He was hit with a warm embrace, the cafe's heater worked well, warming the place and making it cozy enough to eat with only a t-shirt on. He gave you a nod, finding his way to his usual spot, the one he sat at for the past months.
How many months have passed since he first stumbled here? He couldn't remember everything became a blur when it was associated with you. His moments with you were warmer and calmer than at the start. You opened up to him, walls crumbling down and letting yourself build something out of it: a friendship with Ghost.
He liked being friends - for now. He had plans to make a move, to push farther, into unknown territory and try his luck. He had a feeling you'd say yes, he loved you so much and you showered him with adoration and smiles, you had to be in love with him, no? Of course, you were, he wasn't delusional, he was of sound mind, careful.
"Welcome back, Simon," you strut to him so casually, the same clothes, the same smile. "How was your deployment? Soap and Roach got into any trouble?"
He spoke fondly of his TF, they were his family, and he felt proud when he talked about them to you. He invited them once, and they all loved you as much as he did, you were sociable and easy to talk to. Though Price and Soap had the biggest effect on you, they reminded you of someone. You told him about your friends, chaotic like his TF, but a family. It sounded like an ops team, he wouldn't be surprised. He remembered the first time he saw you, it was still fresh in his memory.
"Soap stirred up some shite again," Ghost huffed, sloshing his shoulders to appear more relaxed in your presence, to make him seem less threatening than he was. "No casualties, everyone made it out fine. Bit bruised but alive."
"That's the main objective, no?" You chuckled at Ghost's indignified groans about Soap and Roach behaving like children high on sugar.
You stuck around longer now, gracing him with a bit of random chatter. He got to know about your days, your activities, your wishful thinking and your goals. He discovered something new every day, whether it came from your lips or from his own time.
You stood by his table until the chef rang the call bell. You winked charmingly and turned to get his order, he hadn't ordered yet, but he came by so often, ordering the same that the employees knew what to make when he walked through the door.
He liked the normalcy, where he came by once every two days when he was on leave. If the Task Force was sent on a mission, he could be gone a few days, a few weeks or a month. It always varied, but he made it work with his hate of the unknown, the unpredictable.
"Are you free tonight, love?" Ghost asked, eyes gazing from your hands to your lips.
He found that open-mouthed expression at his question. You seemed hesitant to answer him, thinking about your reply to the man who tipped you well and was as close as a friend to you; or perhaps you were simply shocked that he finally asked you out, and wondering if you had time for him.
You nodded, a smug smile replacing your shock: "How 'bout eight? I finish at seven tonight."
" 'S fine, eight at the bar down the street?"
"It's a date then."
His heart almost broke his ribs, beating wildly against its cage when the word "date" left your lips. He had a date with you tonight, he couldn't believe his ears. Perhaps you meant as a date between friends than one between lovers, but at that moment, all he could think was how your hands would feel between his, how your soft, plump lips would feel over his and how your body would feel against his, below and over him.
He dove into his delusional mind, imagines and dreams swimming freely, jumping from one to the other. He had dreams for once, a wish that he hoped you'd indulge, and a family he wanted but lost.
Everything seemed to go the way he planned, you waved at him when you saw him waiting outside the bar and giddily joined him. He found a quiet and mellow corner at the bar, a table pushed against the wall with two stools.
The bartenders knew him, he drank here with the others, and they didn't bother him and served and usual. Some were surprised he brought a friend - a woman - with him but left him to his own.
You sat down and downed a few beers while he drank his bourbon. You spoke sporadically, hands waving enthusiastically with every word. Your cheeks were flushed, slightly pink and warm from the alcohol, but you were lively, animated and happy.
It made him happy, seeing you so mirthful around him, being able to let loose from your stricter atmosphere at Ma's cafe. Your tense shoulders were looser, your back relaxed from its ramrod-straight position and your voice felt more invigorated. The alcohol might've played a part, running through your system and making you bolder.
The first time always played well, just as he imagined, and the thing that solidified everything was your parting words: "Next time's on me, Simon!"
You drank together every week, from friends to drinking buddies, there was nothing more intimate than that, to trust someone with your drunk self and your loose tongue, spewing words and thoughts the second they crossed your mind.
That boosted his confidence, the feeling that he could confess, and tell you his deepest and darkest thoughts and wants. You'd know what kind of man he was, broken and messily put together, like a DIY project made by a child gone wrong. He had sharp edges and missing pieces, a cracked personality and dangerous thoughts. He was a SAS soldier after all, once you become one, you see some twisted shit.
Like the week before, you walked out together, your legs shaky but still able to walk home, accompanied by Ghost. He helped you to your apartment, his broad shadow looming over the door, silent as always. When your shaky hands were able to unlock the door, turning the knob and opening the door, you turned around to bid your drinking buddy good night.
Lips parting to say the words, until he cut you off, his chapped lips met yours. His gloved hands caressed your cheek, thumb rubbing under your wide eyes as he held you in place. His lips were warm and plump, but chapped, a scar running over it.
His eyes were closed, lips on you for a few seconds longer until he pulled away, a dazed look in his eyes. While he expected a reaction from you, he hadn't envisioned shock and sadness, one that made his gut plummet. He winced at your expression, unable to understand what he did wrong. He thought you loved him.
"I- Simon, I- I can't, I'm sorry," you hushed out sadly, head turned down to stare at your feet. You were unwilling to gaze into his disappointed - probably heartbroken - eyes.
"Why?" He rasped, voice hoarse as if he hid cried for hours, or was on the brink of tearing up.
"I just can't, Simon," you persisted, feeling much more sober than the last few minutes. His surprise had severed you up - willingly or unwillingly. "I don't mind staying friends, but I can't get too attached. I won't be here much longer."
" 'Cause you're not from here?" He scoffed, but it didn't hold any resentment or irritation, simply sorrow and distress. " 'Cause you're from another world?"
You whipped your head to stare at him, your mouth agape and fearful shock glazed over your eyes. How could he have possibly known? While your identity was fabricated work, you know how to make a believable fake ID, Genji's knowledge helped you. You stepped back, hand reaching for your door knob, unsure of what Simon would do to you now that the secret was out.
He turned and ambled out, shoulders slumped slightly without a word to you. His world shattered once again, God seemed hellbent on making his life a misery.
He stopped coming after your "altercation", you felt horrible, but you couldn't let your heart run wild when you know Winston would find a way to fix the portal in a year or two. One had already passed and you couldn't overindulge in this world's pleasures and leave when you got too attached.
Yet, grief at being relieved that he never appeared again clawed at you, he knew you weren't from his world. It was dangerous information, especially in bad hands, but you couldn't do anything about it. This world had different rules and standards, it worked differently and you weren't book-smart like Winston or Torb. You were a simple agent working under Tracer.
You did, however, regret letting Simon leave so abruptly, he was an amazing friend, the perfect drinking buddy and would probably be a caring lover, but couldn't risk it. Even if you wanted to text him, and apologize over and over until Simon would talk to you again, you knew how to respect people's boundaries. If he left so coldly, never passing by, texting or calling told you enough. He needed time to calm down and clear his mind.
You went back and forth between your home and the cafe every night, your original routine - before meeting Simon - felt alien to you. You'd been so used to seeing Simon at the back of the shop, a hot London fog in his hands and crepes on his plate with melting butter. It was foreign to see the spot occupied by another client, or the cold spot in your chest when it was vacant.
You disliked it. You hated it. The cold, the silence, you wanted to see him at least once.
Can we meet? Usual place. was the sudden text you received from Simon during your shift. It was dated today at 5:39.
Without a second thought, you replied, affirming the date and time, tonight, right after your shift on Friday. A weight was lifted from your shoulder, the silence from Simon was broken and he finally reached out to you. Your break to let him calm down had worked it seemed, the let him cool down and clear his mind.
It was late by the time you got to the pub, around nine. You had returned home and fixed up your depressed look for a more lively one, hoping it would make Simon feel better. You caught him at your usual place, head hung low and demeanour shut off from the world around him. You took hesitant steps towards him, he didn't look exactly sober from the number of cups decorating the table, nor did he look drunk, from his sharp, hooded eyes.
"Simon, " you greeted him slowly, nearly flinching when his brown eyes washed over your smaller figure. Chills erupted through the ends of your nerves, fingers twitching at the sudden burst of danger you felt from your friend. You had no reason to be scared, wary of his demeanour, but not scared or hateful. He'd yet to act out violently or malevolently.
He gave a curt nod, emotions bleeding through his eyes. He was a stoic man, but his eyes were extremely emotional, pain, regret, grief, hate and joy were some you'd seen flash in those pretty brown of his.
He had a whole bottle ordered in advance, the cap still tightly screwed onto the bottle's neck. He poured you a cup, of rum straight out of the bottle without ice or any accessories.
Thanking him, you sipped on your drink it felt hot and heady on your tongue, it burned your throat. You hadn't drank since you'd last seen Simon, weeks ago, and you could see - feel - its effect. You coughed slightly but still downed the rest.
"You wanted to see me?" Your question left an odd sensation on your tongue. He hadn't spoken a word since you walked in, always the brooding, silent menace. He stared, fixated on you or something on you, it was perturbed you.
"I wanted to apologize, love."
You missed that low hum in his voice, and the caring way he said you "love". You'd been used to it since most British you knew always called someone they cared for "love" or "dear", loving terms of endearment used publicly. Now, however, you knew it weighted, an undertone to its meaning, a special significance in his heart.
"Didn't mean to jump you like that," he continued, regret painting his rough tone. "It felt right; to me. Guess I was more plastered than I thought."
He was human and alcohol coursed through his system. It made him bold and erratic, he acted out without a second thought. You could forgive him for the influence his bourbon had on him; you were going to forgive him anyway.
Although you felt better with his apology, forgiveness for his sudden move wasn't what you prioritized. You wanted answers. How did he know? Was it a sudden, incomprehensible blurb that he spat in a spike of hate and pain? Or was it conscience wording from his drunk mind?
"Do you remember that night?" You lost your smile, pursed lips and hardened eyes at your questioning - interrogation of him.
"'Course I do."
"Do you remember what you said? About me coming from somewhere else."
He nodded, eyes levelled to stare straight at you, unwilling to hide or lie, he spoke honestly, "Another world, love. Didn't forget."
"How'd you know? I'm not exactly showcasing it to everyone in bright colours. So how?"
"Saw you save that girl, lil babe crying for her mother," his answer was slow and purposeful, giving you what you wanted to hear. He recalled the event that occurred months prior, everything aligned with your own experience. "We don't - can't - have shite like that, too developed and powerful. Nothin' like that's possible in this era. So I figured you weren't from here. "
His reasoning made sense, his wording was careful, and it seemed like he had time to think about it. The time you gave him had helped. You kept your doubts to yourself, questions you had that he probably didn't have the answer to. A way back; a way home; an escape. All things he had no answer to.
So your shoulders relaxed and asked Simon to pour you a second cup, to which he obliged. You drank and smiled, back to the trying times when you just started drinking with him, the unknown and the awkwardness that lingered in the air stung.
You don't remember how many cups you had, or how many bottles you finished. Did you even finish the first one? Did you get halfway through before your vision started blurring and your mind dazed into mumbles of incoherent words? Simon hadn't touched another cup since the world around you blurred, the corners of your eyes turning black and your movement slowed to a slur.
He paid for the drink on his tab, slinging your arm over his shoulder, hand holding your waist as he walked out. You were drunk out of your mind, but something felt different, you don't remember being this inebriated the last time you drank half a bottle of rum. Was there something else in it?
Simon dropped you in the back, buckling you in before he made sure you sat upright. He was close, his neck bare and sweaty, his musk smelled strong and heavy, smoke and gunpowder weighing at the back of your throat. Although your vision was faulty, you could see the tight muscle of his neck and shoulder tense as he worked.
His scent stuck to you as he closed the door and drove home, the air in the car smelling like him. Whatever had drained you, lulled you to sleep, taking comfort in the familiar warmth even if a small part of you started panicking.
He had you, in the basement of his house, soundproof and padlocked from the outside. Any risk was accounted for and any escape plans were foiled prematurely by his quick mind.
Ghost laid you beneath him, on the soft, plush bed he bought and built for you, queen-sized for the times he'd spend cuddling you. He had you splayed, body limp and limbs pliant to his every desire. He admired your sleeping form, how your lace fluttered lightly and your lips perked, thinking on the corners as if you were wincing - a duck face - and your peaceful expression. You were adorable.
Your shirt came off first, pulled over your head and thrown over his shoulders, then your bra. Without his gloves, your skin felt soft, hot to the touch. Kneading your breasts, he held one in each hand and felt the fat. You twitched and mewled faintly when he pinched your nipples, hardened by the cooler air hitting your drunk-induced heat. He kissed them, lips closing around your nipple and sucking loudly. He gave each one the same amount of attention, pulling off with a wet pop.
His fingers trailed the lines of your abdomen, strong and athletic, but not too burly like anyone in the army. He admired your figure, half-naked and unconscious on his bed, in his home. He kissed down your stomach as he took your pants off, sliding leg after leg out, leaving you only in your panties.
You were beautiful: your skin - soft, your hair - silken, your lips - wonderful to kiss, and your eyes - gems. You were breathtaking to look at, a treasure to his eyes solely. You were an unblemished canvas, unmarked by other men - in his mind - by sin, and your scars were trophies, won through difficult times. He wanted to be the one painting you, displaying you prettily for his eyes alone. Pieces of works were kept secret like Michelangelo's love poems and sketches.
His eyes wandered the expanse of your body, groaning when he saw the wet patch, your body had reacted to his caresses, your arousal turning the spot over your cunt darker, wet. He pushed his nose to it, breathing in the tangy musk. His fingers hooked under the string and ripped it off with a harsh tug. You wouldn't need underwear anymore once he was done with you.
Ghost's pupils dilated, wide, blown eyes as it keyed on your slick cunt. He adjusted your legs, moving them over his shoulders to have better access to you. He gave a testing lap, running the flat of his tongue over your rim, prodding your clenching opening and leaving at your pulsating clit.
You tasted delicious, he growled and dove back. Tongue circling your button, sucking loudly, lifting the protective hood to let it swell and throb. He held your hips tightly ad you squirmed and moaned, but you never awoke. The drug he gave you was potent, tested on bigger, stronger military men. It could knock them out, so it would pull a stronger reaction from you.
It weighed on his mind, that he resolved to drugging you and bringing you home to be able to show you just how much he loved you. He'd preferred if you were awake, he wanted your first time together to be wonderful - fantastic - in all ways, but you would've protested, fought him and left him once more. He couldn't risk losing you completely, it hurt.
He had no other choice and felt guilty, but he couldn't let his mind wander when he had you under him, ripe for the taking. He pushed his thoughts away and concentrated on you, his needy girl.
His tongue returned between your leg, cheek nuzzling into your sweating thighs. He alternated between sucking your button, lips enclosing around it, and dipping his tongue into you, groaning anomalistically at your tensing walls. He pushed his forefinger in, joining his ravenous tongue. His nose bumped your clit, jerking you each time.
A second finger joined the first and his tongue left to give attention to your neglected clit, pumping to the third knuckles and curling upwards. You arched off the bed, hips buckling into his open mouth as he stretched you open with a third finger. The sound was lewd and wet, loud in his ears.
His cock twitched, straining against his pants, the fabric tight and inflexible, nearly painful. He wanted to relieve the tightness, that burning ache deep in his guts, but his needs came second to yours.
He flickered his tongue and pushed his fingers deeper, curling and panting against you. You spasmed, legs closing around his head, squeezing him as you came. His fingers eased out slowly to savour the taste of your arousal, mouth covering your fluttering hole and slurping the slick that drizzled down your ass.
He loved how you tasted, sweet and salty, like a healthy, ripe fruit ready to be bitten into, juicy and perfect. He almost lost himself, dazed by your essence and his anguish; if only you'd accepted him early, you would've been awake and conscious of this act, and you'd be able to love and embrace him as he did to you. He wouldn't have to wait so long, in pain and regret, for not wooing you enough. He wouldn't have to feel so guilty.
Snapping from his hazed thinking, he lowered your legs and climbed off the bed to undress. He peeled his hoodie and shirt, which stuck to his skin by sweat, and he dropped his pants once he unbuckled his belt. His cock bobbed, slapping wetly against his navel before it hung heavily between his legs, the head achingly red and swollen. His balls felt heavy, and tight from all the neglect. They were big and full, ready to pump his seed into you.
He cradled you, pulling your legs over his elbows and slotting his hips to yours, his cock over your slit. He moved his hips, slicking his shaft with your juices, groaning at the wet warmth under him. When it felt slick enough, he dipped the tip in, your labia stretching to swallow his uncut head. The sound was downright filthy in his ears, the squelch and your strained moans.
He watched himself inch deeper, sinking into your depths with unrelenting hunger, panting and growling until he bottomed out, his balls sitting snug against your ass. His bulbous tip kissed your cervix, nudging it as he rolled his hips, testing how deep he could reach and how strong he could fuck.
He slowly pulled out, hearing the wet noise of his cock slipping out to the tip, and slammed in, his balls slapping the roundness of your ass. He rocked wildly, groaning each time he bottomed out, feeling the heat of your walls clench around him like a vice. Your spasming walls wrenched low moans from him, as often as you whimpered and mewled.
"Fuck- you feel so fuckin' good-" he pushed out through his clenched teeth, his cock twitching when you tightened around him.
Your legs shook, your back arching slightly and your voice keening loudly. He covered your body with his, lips meeting yours in a hungry and possessive kiss, tongue diving into your mouth and committing it to memory. His hand found your clit, thumb rubbing your sensitive nub, urging you towards your end.
Keening, you came, gripping him with a vice. He grunted, his pace becoming sloppy as he chased his peak after yours, breathing in your neck with dazed, hooded eyes. He swore, thrusting as deep as he could and came, his seed rushing to fill you.
"Fuck- fuck-" he gasped, rocking a few times into you, riding off his edge until he calmed down.
White globs leaked from your stuffed cunt, rolling down your ass and leaving a trail. His chest rumbled happily, bending down to kiss you slowly, soft and adoring compared to the last. He slid out when he softened, his cum oozing out of your gaping heat, the plug keeping everything in left.
He loved watching you full, oozing of him, asleep and satiated in the bed he bought for you. You were both coated in sweat and cum, hair sticking to your glistening skin. Your dishevelled and panting aroused him, his soft cock jerking upwards, hardening moments after he just came.
"We're not done yet, love."
You felt heavy and warm, a heat - a body - held you tightly, fingers carding through your hair and caressing your back. It smelled like sweat and smoke, a familiar musk. You opened your eyes, seeing a pale, burly chest, Simon's naked chest. You froze, body tensing, shoulders squaring and arms ready to push him back.
"Morning, love," his voice was raspy with sleep, deep and calm as he greeted you, his lips meeting your hairline. "Slept well?"
You frowned, legs moving, jutting out from between his knees as you struggled to free yourself. Your body felt sore, the peak of your discomfort coming from your heat, a pulsating and warm pain. You feared the worst.
When you looked down, you were covered by only a shirt, a big, dark grey t-shirt that smelled like Simon, it reached your knees. You winced, seeing your nakedness and Simon's pants hanging low on his hips, flashing the sharp dip of his navel and his sculpted torso. It left little to imagine, the red blemishes on your neck and shoulders, slightly faded from his careful handling and bruises the size of his fingers around your thighs.
"You-" you coughed before you could day anymore, throat dry and scratchy, alcohol dehydrated people faster.
"Drink," he held you up, back to his chest, arms slipping around you too comfortably to hand you a cup of water, cool and fresh.
He had expected this, he wasn't as delusional as he first seemed, and he was prepared. You took it, gulping it down carefully, counting the seconds - minutes - that would pass until the drug kicked in, if he had diluted any in your water.
He hummed happily, his chest vibrating as he wrapped his arms around you, nosing the collar of your neck, he placed fluttering kisses on your open shoulder. The collar of his shirt slipped from one side, exposing your skin. His teeth grazed you, teasingly nipping you with warm puffs of air.
You gulped, gathering whatever wits you still had after this whole kidnapping situation. Your mind was running miles per second, eyes gleamed over with tensions and tiredness, and your body sore from Simon's perverse affection.
"Where am I?" your voice was small, still raspy from - what you assumed - moaning and mewling.
"Home," he mumbled, latching onto your skin and sucking a dark spot.
Home? It neither meant your flat nor safety. It was *his* home, a prison he built for you. You looked around. You thought it better to get to know the place he decided to keep you captive, to learn and discover its secrets, anything you could use against or for you.
It was like a studio apartment, everything was open apart from the bathroom, it had a small kitchenette with a fridge (probably in case he left for a while, deployed in another country while he kept you here.), a bookshelf filled to the brim with books and a desk pushed to the side. He'd forgone leaving you with a television, a mobile device, a phone or a computer, all were risks of you getting out.
The walls were painted over, bare of windows and stairs lead to a door, locked from both sides. He locked you in his basement, beneath his house and every other neighbour's nose. No one would come to your rescue if you screamed. No one would hear your cries of anguish or your pleas for freedom.
He bit down, teeth pressing onto your skin, denting the scarred flesh with his teeth marks. You yelped, the area hot and painful, his strength leaving an almost skin-deep bleeding, fiery and red. It was irritated and swelled in seconds. He moved from one patch to the other, determined to mark up your shoulder before possibly moving on to the next one.
You squirmed on his lap, trying to free yourself from his restrictive hold. You gripped his hands, digging your blunt nails into his forearms. He scoffed, nuzzling the bites he made, tongue lapping at the bleeding lines.
"Ghost," you gasped, legs kicking and body struggling.
Clicking followed every kick, the distinct sound of metal rattling in a disorderly way. You looked down your leg, catching the cuff around your right ankle, a long chain kept you jailed in the basement. It was long and winding, enough to comfortably walk laps around your new accommodation but too short to reach the door.
You stared at it incredulously, the utter rage and disgust that burned in your gut that he planned to keep you as if you were a glorified pet or some sort of prize he scouted and obtained.
You knew he liked you before, it was a simple and innocent crush, like finding your first one and not knowing how to react. That, and the fact he was a soldier, scarred by time and marked by warfare made him so standoffish. You thought it was simple, but now, it was too late to forget, to not look, to let bygones be bygones.
He was obsessed, not necessarily sane, but not crazy either. He wasn't delusional, by everything he set up as a precaution, but he let his darkness fester, grow and crack the surface of his calm and stoic persona. He was still calm and meticulous, but it was a different kind, storming ideas for your imprisonment and wishes he wanted to make true. Ghost and Simon overlapped, neither good nor evil, he was simply letting the monster rage uncontrolled.
His pent-up emotions drove him to the edge, and your rejection pushed him over, tipping the scale of his sanity. That's how you ended up in your current situation, his hands wandering over your thighs, dipping between them and down to your knees. He still nipped at your skin, biting and pulling the collar down the other shoulder. His teeth sunk into the muscle between your neck and shoulder, warm fingers slipping under his shirt to knead your chest.
You winced, flinching when he plucked your nipples, pulling on them until you let out a pained whine.
"Stop-!" your hands followed his, clamping around his wrists and dragging him out, but he stayed firm, unmoving to your will as he twirled your mounds. "Fucking stop!"
He huffed, hands dropping to your lap. He mumbled into your bitten skin, groaning in complaints about not letting him care for you. His complaints came with hot breaths on your nape, mouthing the back, turning silent and unmoving.
His quietness was familiar to you, his penchant for sifting through his thoughts in utter silence. Then he moved, draping the covers over your body, tucking you in. He stood at your bedside, expression lighting in a gentle smile. Under the dim lighting of the room, he looked like a beautiful angel. A gold halo hovered over his blonde locks, framing his pale skin and warm, brown eyes.
He kissed your forehead, lips lingering a few seconds longer as he took in the calming moment. He had you, he had you in his home.
"How about breakfast? Fried eggs and bangers, how's that sound?"
The normalcy of eating breakfast in bed, to wake up and be greeted with a British breakfast made by Simon. He liked the idea of such normality, it was romantic, domestic even. To be able to cook for you and serve you the food he made, he'd eat at the table in the middle of the room, seated opposite from you.
He left before you could give him a piece of your mind, or your reply to his question. Fried eggs, you knew what that was, but *bangers*, what the fuck was that?
The stairs creaked lightly, bending under Simon's weight, but his steps were silent - dangerous. The lock clicked when it was unlocked, and he left you alone, the door locking behind him. Gone was your escape, gone was your freedom, gone was your life with the door locking before you.
Time seemed endless, it went by in a blink or in long, painful moments that left you angry. He hadn't given you a clock, and without anything technological (the microwave didn't have the time, whatever Simon had done, worked. Time never played on the four-letter screen.), you couldn't tell day from night, seconds from minutes and minutes from hours. Time dragged agonizingly slowly, the only clue was Simon kept a pattern: three meals a day, breakfast, dinner and supper before going to bed with his arms wrapped around you.
How long you've stayed here was unknown. You couldn't know and Simon didn't want to tell you. He changed subjects or glared at you until you dropped it or he decided to drop it. You had no link to the outside, no way of knowing if you'd been announced missing or if anyone was worried. Simon had cut all your connections to the world around you, just outside your reach, on the other side of these walls that confined you.
You desperately needed to know about your case, if they knew, if they filed a missing person report if they were searching for you. It pained you to be ignorant of everything but your small world, the things that happened in your small room. Everything you knew was Simon.
His horribly, soothing words in his deep voice, speaking into your ear or your hair, whispering his dreams and his hopes, his love and his adoration. His wandering hands, raking the tension from your shoulders, the knots in your back, your worry from your eyes and lips, and the pleasure - forced - he brought upon you.
Entertainment was brought through him, or through the books he left for you, most were erudite, both old and new novels. Bram Stoker's Dracula, The Silence of the Lambs and The Heart of Darkness were a few of the novels you'd caught on the bookshelf.
He also fed you. Most days, he'd stay until it was time to eat, he would leave - sometimes half an hour or a whole hour, it ranged between depending on the meal - and come back with warm plates. They always smelled good and they tasted better.
It surprised you how skilled he was in cocking, as he was in infiltration, sniping, abducting and killing. Perhaps he took the time apart from you to forge his plan, to learn to cook and to care.
You ate, slowly and contemplatively. He stared at you eat, always making sure you took the first bites before digging into his own plate. It weighed heavy in your gut, like a reluctant gift you were bestowed, and Simon made sure you ate everything.
You felt dazed, gone, after eating, as if a cloud washed over your mind that made you slower, and sluggish with everything you did. The food was drugged, you were aware of that when you first felt lethargic. It made you less testy, less bratty as Simon grumbled, you were more pliant to his whims and easier to move when you tried fighting him.
Though it eased the nausea that wracked your body in the mornings, the sudden discomfort in your abdomen and the heaviness that the ache gave. You rarely needed to move from the bed if the urge to vomit came up, Simon kept pills for that. If you did, he'd comfort you, holding your hair back as the content of your stomach surged upwards.
Your time spent with Simon was time spent organizing your thoughts, Winston was smart, engineering-wise, he was amazing. Then there was Mercy with her medical breakthrough and Torb with his ingeniously brilliant machines. If they came together, found what went wrong with the portal you went through.
Trace would be so worried if she wasn't already dead worried. She was a caring and responsible mentor, taking you in before and after the fall of Overwatch. Nearly twelve years under her and this was the first mishap. You spent nearly two years in Simon's world - you counted the time your could count, the days you spent working and enjoying life as much as you could in a different place - and your heart never stopped missing your family.
You missed Jack - Soldier: 76 - when he would openly laugh, and Gabriel, when he was still the man he was. You missed Tracer's fussing, blinking around with so much energy, and Reinhardt's proud standard when he loomed over his teammates with his Barrier Field. You missed them horribly, they were the glue that kept you hoping for freedom.
It happened when you nearly conceded to Simon's whims, bending to his will and words, letting his hands wander your body and feeling pleasure - genuine. His confessions were parroted, and his I love youwas returned.
You ate less, however, the lump in your gut grew by the days, weighing heavier and heavier. You had weird cravings, followed by nausea most mornings, gripping the toilet bowl with your head hung low. Simon held your hair back and rubbed soothing circles on your back, bemoaning about your pains and cramps.
He left a few times during your period of captivity, vanishing for long periods - usually a week or two - and had you manage everything on your own. He had cameras set up, watching your every move, connected to whatever device he decided to watch you.
He was deployed a week ago, his steps never walking to the door during the week, but now, you could hear his booming steps around the house. They were loud and intentional. Dread always filled your body when you learned he came back, he was clingy, handsy and obsessive when he came back, growling that he would burn down the world if couldn't have you; or that he was thinking about you - constantly - and that the video feed on his phone was never enough.
You picked up on his pace, hurried and panicked. They stomped around the house in search of something before it stopped at your door. Your ears perked on the clicking of the lock, straining to listen to his heaving breaths.
Crack
You jerked forward. Something behind you cracked, the loud cracking filled the air as you turned. A blue swirl cracked the shift in reality, like glass fracturing and breaking into pieces, it glowed with every line. It pulsed calmly, the swirls capturing your attention. You felt drawn to it, your hands twitching with the urge to touch it, to let your fingers swim in the infinite pool.
"(Name), are you there?" a voice called from the other side, small and feminine. It was dripping with worry and exhaustion. "Luv, are you there?" she cried a second time, a hand emerging from the portal.
You knew the voice, the warm, familiar voice that called out to you with love and compassion. A friend. A mentor. A family.
You reached out to it, hand inches from hers. Then the door to your cage burst open, his screams echoing in the basement. He hurried down the stairs as fast as he could, mask still on his face as he reached for you. His gloved fingers grasped the air for you, rushing towards you with immense worry and fear in his eyes.
Mere seconds behind you, his fingers grazed your back as you fell into the waiting arms of your mentor. He was too late, he fell on the vacant bed, watching the portal close behind you. He clutched the bending, the place you sat moments ago. It was still warm, your heat and smell still mixed into your sheets.
He spun lies about your absence, about your sudden disappearance from his world. You moved away after your breakup, you distanced yourself from him to make the move easier on your heart and his. The TF had accepted the excuse, solemnly nodding about your leave and wishing they could have said farewell to a good friend.
They moved on with life, still smiling nostalgically when you were brought up, but Ghost was left heartbroken. He knew something was wrong that day, the itch in his brain about something happening at home. That's why he was in such a hurry, in a panicked frenzy to get home - to get to you. He was too late though, seeing you being pulled into a portal. Dooming was the effect on him; devastation was the pain in his heart; shattering was the sorrow of his soul.
He poured everything into keeping you, only to lose you. Now, he poured every second of his life into work, never letting his mind wander to the bump on your stomach or the subtle relinquishment in your actions to him.
He was deader than dead, colder and more stoic than before. They saw the change, they understood, but never blamed you. Everyone had fallouts, Simon just had more than the rest of the world. That's why he played Ghost more often than before, building his walls higher and his appearance darker.
Yet somehow, Soap was enthusiastic enough to rope him into playing games on his console (he used to play more before finding time between deployments to jump into a match with the others). Overwatch 2, an evolution of the first made better. Soap promised it was good. His spiel about the characters having a profound background and the gameplay being fun. Ghost was doubtful, he and Soap didn't have the same definition of fun, they were associated with different things.
He liked Soap, though, so he humoured his sergeant. He downloaded it on his console, watching the white line charge until it became playable. Soap had mentioned a few names: Genji, Sombra, Reaper and Zenyatta, he even joked about Reaper resembling him, the skull mask and the dark drapes. He'd also gushed - like an over-enthusiastic gamer - about a new character, a woman, the sole student of this Tracer.
He scoured through the lists of players, eyes skimming over the faces before he spotted a familiar one. It was more cartoonish, drawn in gentle lines and beautiful shades. Your face, it was your beautiful face. He nearly dropped his controller, hands shaking and body heavy.
Was it guilt that washed over him? Was it pain that washed over him? Was it sorrow and melancholy that washed over him? Or was it his world that came crashing down on his shoulders?
The world dulled, his breath became stagnant and shallow as he stared at your hero. You were standing proud and fearless, guns held in your hands with a bright smile. He watched you emote, your character moving as it was coded. He scrolled through your skills and perks, some he remembered you use. You blinked and recalled, moving back and forth between time and space, breaking the fragile shift in the world.
Soap was right about the new hero, you were interesting and lovely. In a flurry of emotions, he opened up your biography - or a snippet of your backstory. Every word bled his heart, every act and every situation wracked his body with sadness. The more he read, the more his tears threatened to fall.
You kept your - his - child, a beautiful kid with his blonde hair and your eyes, a round, yet sharper face like his. You kept him, you hadn't aborted the child. You gave birth and he wasn't there. You took care of your kid and he wasn't there. You watched him grow and he wasn't there.
He cried, body closing on itself. His shoulders shook, his vision blurred and his face streaked with tears. A broken sob broke through his throat, restricted and pained with waves of emotion, deep and harrowing sadness of his loss.
"I miss you, love," he rasped, his fingers gripping his hair, nearly ripping out the seams. "I miss you."
#ghost mw2#x reader#yandere x reader#yandere#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader smut#yandere ghost#simon ghost riley#yandere cod#cod smut#mw2 smut#ghost call of duty#simon riley smut#ghost mw2 smut#yandere mw2 x reader#yandere mw2#overwatch 2#overwatch
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I don't know how to tell you that you should care about other people.
I keep reflecting to determine if there's something more within me that's causing me to still feel so incredibly sick by it all. Really trying to expose the raw roots of the feeling to see if it stems from some kind of selfishness. And I suppose it does. But to reduce it to just that would also be lying, because it's a combination of poisons down in that soil. It's betrayal and a feeling of isolation amongst a group I thought I once knew, and then that selfish and bitter root grows in like a weed. I can only quietly observe to myself: "ah. this is where the radicalization and rampant nationalism come from. this is why I see it flowering in my family."
It's because I feel my trust breaking all over again each time I forget about it and try to go on with my business. I remember that I still can't mourn publicly without someone educating me on why obviously if I'm mourning, I must have Insert Political Alignment Here. I remember the utter silence and the downright celebration of more civilian deaths because "oh, fuckin Yaya or whatever deserved it after what Israel does."
For the record, Yaya-Or-Whatever didn't deserve it, and I still remember the lead dropping into my stomach upon hearing that from a friend. No one deserves it. No one ever deserves it.
I don't know how to tell you that you should care about other people.
Maybe that's a quote leftists recognize, but I realize now that few of them actually stick to it across the board. And I'm admittedly selfish, because I hoped that leftists could at least have a moment to care about my people suffering too before getting back to helping the people who currently need the most help. But instead we got "Yaya-Or-Whatever Deserved It." And I've been laying here for months watching everyone on the left just go back to the usual armchair activism as if they didn't just fucking say that, and when I do bring it up, suddenly I'm the problem for pointing out that it was fucked up.
You won't erase it, fyi. We saw you say it. Some of you said it with your full fucking chest. You were callous and let the antisemites into the bar by openly celebrating Jewish death. Then you pretended we were talking about Palestine when we pointed out your antisemitic actions. You know that's not what we were even pointing to as an example. But it's very convenient for you to pretend we don't know the difference, isn't it?
I don't know. It's just a reminder that most of you are actually all talk and virtue signals. There's no actual substance behind your ideals, you're just adhering to the party line, same as conservatives do. I guess I was naive to think otherwise. It's disingenuous for you to wonder why people leave the leftist movement as a whole and "suddenly" flip sides. You know why, and it's reasons like this - you're just covering it up and pretending it's a totally different, more convenient reason.
Tldr; you're hypocrite ass leftists and fuck you. You should be ashamed of how you acted.
#antisemitism#october 7 2023#israel#mandatory disclaimer on the Cant Read Website that:#1) i dont condone israel's harsh response but also why the fuck do i have to even say this#2) actually you know what fuck this im tired of talking to you and justifying why i should be allowed to also exist#making me jump through hoops like your jewish street monkey#stop fucking excusing the death of civilians#civilian death is civilian death. full fucking stop.#neither Yaya-Or-Whatever or Muhammad-Or-Whatever deserve that.#you fucking lunatics.#things' stuff#basically a journal entry
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Reiko pregnancy HC's
As always, my writing is by an adult and 1000% meant for the enjoyment of other adults. Minors dni.
Very slight nsfw (if you squint) mostly just fuzzy feel good fictional mush and most likely ooc.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Congratulations! You're the lucky person to be knocked up with Reikos baby. Let's explore what my (baby fever addled) mind stirred up for this topic, shall we?
The day you spilled the beans about your pregnancy is the most important day of his life. He avenged his family. He's won wars. He's tamed a dragon, hell, even being with you ranks up pretty high up there on the list but a baby? His baby! you've successfully given this man the only thing he's ever wanted since he was orphaned and that is biological family.
He might appear deadpaned but as he brings his hands to your face ever so gently, he gazed profoundly into your eye's with diamond ores, you know deep in your heart he's the happiest man alive. Proven when he lifts you in his big strong arms, spins you around and then crushes you into to his chest and kisses you breathless.
FYI. It's WAY too early but he built a crib the same week you made your announcement. In fact, Reiko will make most of the baby's furniture.
If you thought this man was handsy before be prepared for it to be ramped up to 1000%. You aren't even showing yet but he's finding every excuse to press his palm to your belly (and everywhere, for that matter)
He's going to try an fuck you as often as possible as your growing.
His hand pressed against your lower back when you both are out and about is now, you guessed it! Holding your belly. His need to protect (and show off) his person and child being his number one priority.
Got morning sickness? Reiko is right there with you holding your hair away from your face and rubbing your back and giving you soothing affirmations.
If he sees you struggling in any way, he's right there to help you.
Back aching? Massage. Feet swollen? Massage.
You're rubbing your lower back and trying to stretch? Here's Reiko, pressed behind you with his calloused hands gently holding your baby bump up for support and ease the strain on your body.
Got cravings in the middle of the night for something that isn't in your shared home? Sit back and relax! Whether near or far, Papa Bear is dressed and on the mission to bring you back whatever his baby wants!
Because Reiko is high ranking you have access to the best healers in Outworld to oversee your birthing journey and He'll be at every single appointment. Asking questions, gaining knowledge and losing his mind with excitement as everything progresses along.
He does not care what you have. To him. You and the baby's health are all that matters.
He's going to try the breast milk. (I will not elaborate)
You've gone into labor! But no worries, Reiko, the ever disciplined soldier has everything under control! Everything you'll need is together (packed months ago tbh) and ready to go! He'll carry everything, even you.
Good luck keeping him out of the delivery room. There's no way you're going through that without him at your side! Offering words of encouragement, getting you what ever you need, even a hand to break if need be but he's with you to the end. And by the gods, was it worth it to see you become the fiercest warrior he's ever laid eyes on in your efforts to bring your infant into the world. He's SO. FUCKING. PROUD of you.
He's definitely going to let you sleep off your exhaustion. You slowly open your eyes in the softly lit room and the first thing you see is your love, Reiko, eyes closed and shirtless holding the tiny baby to his big chest as if it were made of glass, his fingers soothing soft circles against the infants back (they told him skin to skin contact from the father is just as important as the mother) the peace on his face makes your heart swell with pride as you gently place your hand on his thigh, stiring his eyes open to look at you, an honest smile forming on his mouth.
He heard the baby "hungry" fussing in the bassinet beside your shared bed that woke him but not you? He'll gently wake you, letting you know the baby has to eat while easing you up enough for him to slide behind you to keep you propped up, then lean over, easily lifting the baby up to help you situate it against your breast, keeping it aloft and allowing you to doze against him while nourishing his pride and joy.
He is 1000% the type of dad to transport his baby on his chest/back in one of those infant wrap carriers. He doesn't give a fuck what anyone thinks about it either. Proud equal parenting in this house. 👏👏👏
#minty werks#Reiko#mk Reiko#mortal kombat hcs#reiko hcs#minors dni#reiko x reader#mortal kombat x reader
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Part 3 of my Johnshi headcanons !!!
In my previous headcanon, i said Kenshi loves nature and hiking so Johnny often takes them on vacations around the world for Kenshi to enjoy and he even bought a private jet so that Sento doesn't have to go throught TSAs
Johnny has many big celebrity friends and it specially amazes Raiden and Kung Lao like what do you mean you know Lady Gaga? Fyi, We had a game night at her place last month
Johnny learns japanese. While he's not entirely fluent, his accent is immaculate. Locals always get shocked to see a very handsome white guy speaking their language like he's born to do that
^ also Johnny does the most of talking to strangers in Japan bc people get scared when Kenshi approaches them
They both try to go incognito on the streets but Johnny gets always stopped by people, not bc he's recognized, but people are just mesmerized by him
^ one time, a salesman tried to hire him at those male maid cafes and Johnny called Kenshi Ojousama (princess) for whole day to tease him
Johnny and Kenshi at Hanabi festival! Wearing yukatas! Playing matsuri games! And watching fireworks! Kenshi even wins prizes for Johnny in the festival games bc that's what couple do, and Kenshi has never done it for anyone before
Kenshi has a sister, Akane! She operates as the head of their clan and also a skilled swordswoman.
^ Johnny and Akane are menace combined. Kenshi cannot have a minute of peace when they visit his home
While Kenshi's family is always pleasant. Johnny's is not so much. Johnny mom is a shrewd looking woman, and Kenshi was nervous to meet her first bc of her being a cop and him being an ex gangster. But they came to like each other later. Johnny's dad is distant and obviously judgemental of both of them, but he's apprehensive of Kenshi's past enough to hold his tongue for unwanted comments. On the flip side, Johnny's brother? Not so much. He can hope to god that he won't run into the wrong side of Sento, accidentally
They have a small private wedding that represents both of their culture. Liu Kang is their wedding officiant bc he's literally their creator n everything but Johnny and Kenshi thought it would be funny since Liu Kang has put so much effort in them that he's essentially their wingman
Obviously, Kung Lao is Johnny’s bestman and Raiden is Kenshi's
They had to beg Baraka for at least 5 months to come to their wedding, and he finally concedes when Kenshi tells him how much of a good friend and companion he was during their mission to Outworld and they can't imagine their special day without him
They both walk down the aisle, holding hands, and Smoke cried real tears at that
Johnny's manager worked overtime to make sure there will be no paparazzi, and the only official pictures to public are posted on Johnny's instagram. Those are the first ever pics of Kenshi's face valiantly shown, and he's smiling at Johnny with so much love
Johnny's vow includes: "You saved my life. It's yours to keep now."
#johnshi#johnny x kenshi#johnshi headcanon#johnny cage#kenshi takahashi#mk1 2023#mk1#mortal kombat#mortal kombat 2023
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Fan concept to incorporate however you want:
In comics i’m pretty sure there’s a lazarus pit in the batcave, and others in gotham. A high concentration of lazarus water per square foot. Add to that gotham’s various contaminated waters from various toxins and gases on top of usual run offs, and there’s a high chance everyone in gotham is contaminated by all of this.
Add in the popular head cannons and partial fanon of lazarus water = (in some form) contaminated or corrupted watery ectoplasm.
And if we go ecto contaminated enough = liminal…
Then gotham city is full of liminals, the most notorious being a handful revenants with questionable cores (Solomon Grundy and Red Hood off the top of my head), with Damian’s Robin a liminal bordering on halfa if you go the ‘raised next to and put in the Pitts’ route.
Hell if you want, most of the Batfam can be partially ecto contaminated if not liminal (minus Duke, i feel like he’s the only starting to) but no one notices because its gradual and they assume its side effects from the 10,000 + polluntants in gotham.
You can have anyone from Amity Park enter Gotham and go ‘huh, edgy aesthetic Amity.’ Then go ‘oh, sick liminal… which dork back home knows how to fix this?’
If you want Tucker can be sending Sam updates on Gotham’s liminals (including Rogues) which Sam is helping the ecto terrorist (League of Assassins in a lot of older portrayals) and Danny vibing working for (DC bigshot or group of your choice) as an engineer who says he’s bad at coding when no one has broken his code yet as ‘its standard back home’ and baffles his employer
Dani can see Gotham and just. Vibe as a feral child who tries to help the other sick liminals with mixed results. I say let Harley snag her as her sidekick during her anti-villian days.
Jazz can be attending university and has to explain drinking filtered ecto to her dorm, only for a lot of them to start managing things better emotionally and combat wise, but now have the urge to Kick Ass as a way to Make Friends. Batfam investigate her a s a cult leader when really all she’s doing is using a clean ecto filter and teaching her classmates to do the same. Even teaches them how to make them thanks to Danny breaking down his rigs to her and leaving her repair instructions in case hers breaks early.
If you go baby Ghost King Danny, he can find out about Gotham and do a ‘oh, a fucked up version of Amity Park. Neat!’ see the Joker and go ‘Fuck this guy,’ and appear by pulling Joker into the ghost realm for his trial with a note that reads “sorry for missing another Liminal City. I’ll do better as king and handle those breaking Ghost Ettiquette myself. My bad. Still new to the ‘King of the Infinite Realms and all bonded to it. So liminals fall in, didn’t think there were more besides Amity. A branch of the Council of Observers will be sent to evaluate which liminals are sick, which are dealing with unsustainable or harmful obsessions, which liminals need relocation to handle their obsession in a better suited environment, and which ones are uneducated on liminal health.
Don’t worry, I stole some time to make sure i did all the paperwork before taking this guy. He’s the type of ecto entity who consumes attention, fear, and souls, which is Pretty Bad and that last one is an auto-execution. So i should manage the normal ‘visiting of the realms and introduction to’ spiel after we can make sure you won’t be in danger from ghosts that forget mortals dont shrug off being dropped off a few cliffs and having a two ton rock dropped on them. I may send some ambassadors from Amity to help you adjust since it was a pain for us too. Fyi if anyone tries summoning the Ghost King and expects Pariah, i win by conquest ten years ago and only JUST got to looking into liminal areas. With cheating by stealing time. If you have any questions, look up the Manson family, Amity Park, Ohio. Sam can explain better than me, and her parents somehow ended up on the mortal side counsel.
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𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 ━ ♡
POST COVID ! KYLE BROFLOVSKI X READER
A/N - I love post covid kyle sm, he's amazing. FYI this is pretty shit so uh yh
KYLE fell onto the other side of the bed, letting out a groan. It was clear that he was annoyed at the fact his old friend- Eric Cartman was his name- and his family began to stay over since they couldnt any where else.
You turned your head to face your husband, a small smile resting on your features. " Hey its okay hun, im sure it wont be too bad " You shifted your body so you'd be on your side, staring at him. Hearing him sigh he turned his head so you'd be face-to-face, his brows knitted " Y/n, you know i love you but you dont know Cartman- he was an absolute asshole when we where younger, he still is now ! "
Quietly laughing, you ran your left hand through his red locks, to which he eased up, letting you do so. He really enjoyed having you by his side, it just made things so much easy for him. " Im sure it'll be fine baby, its been years since you've seen him, im sure he's changed! " " Yeah for the worst " He groaned again before lifting himself up throwing his side of the covers over his body.
His hands quickly grabbed at our waist and pulled you closer to his body, a high pitched yelp left your lips as he did so. Even though he's done this for a good few years it still manages to shock you when he does. He held you body close to his, resting his chin on your head " Ya know, im glad that somehow i managed to find you " he pressed a kiss onto the place where his chin rested not only a second before.
" Same " You grinned against his chest, arms lazily warped around him, " Lets go to sleep now hun, its late " you could hear Kyle hum in agreement but before you could both close your eyes and fall asleep a loud noise and clapping sound could be heard from one of the other rooms. Immediately you could hear Kyle sigh angrily.
Trying to ease him again you gave him a slight squeeze but it did practically nothing as when the voices of Eric and his wife came through the door about their love for Judaism you also got quite annoyed, not to mention uncomfortable. Sensing your discomfort Kyle grumbled quickly letting go of you and getting out of bed, leaving the room.
You knew something bad was gonna happen between the 3 and you really didnt want to intervene even though it would be the best idea to do so. While you were contemplating whether you should or shouldn't go Kyle returned, clearly stressed and upset.
" They'll be gone in the morning n/n " he muttered getting back in the bed, by your side quickly wrapping his arms around you just as he did before. You hummed, brows furrowed "Kyle, let them stay, they have no where else to go " your husband shook his head " No, n/n, i dont want them in our house. They made you uncomfortable for fucks sake! " "So what? Everyone fucks their partner Kyle!" "But no one does it while yelling about their love for Abraham!" "Whatever ..."
deciding to just let it go you pressed your face into his chest, your hold on him loosening causing the man to stiffen, realizing he upset you. he awkwardly hummed, hiding his face in your hair " Ive upset you havent i? ah- shit- I- im sorry babe, i'll uh.... i'll let them stay " you could hear the annoyance in his voice when he talked about letting them staying but you were glad he was gonna let them.
"Thanks hun, i love you"
" I love you too "
#south park#south park x reader#kyle broflovski#kyle broflovski x reader#post covid kyle broflovski#south park post covid#x reader#this is so shit#LMFAOOO
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Why Ra’s Would Summon the Ghost King (Also Twins AU in this cause I love that AU)
.....so.....
I've been binge reading some DPxDC (mainly Batman stuff) for a bit and I've fallen deep in love with it. I adore so many AU or ideas of it and my mind refuses to let me go until I give my 2 cents on an idea so here goes. (I’m still new to some DC/Batman stuff so its not the best just an FYI)
One of my fav AUs to read is the Twins AU with Damian and Danny (Danyal) AND a cult summoning the Ghost King stories. But hear me out...
We need Ra's summoning the Ghost King fics/stories.
Why would he summon the Ghost King?
The Lazarus Pits are drying up and he discovered after a years worth of research the main reason they appeared was because the Ghost King ripping open portals and dragging pieces of mortal realm into the Ghost realm, thus leaving 'wounds' on the earth and creating the Pits that are leaking over (and they get corrupt due to overuse, like someone not changing the filter or maintenance in a pool, it gets nasty.)
However, the old King was defeated in battle a few years ago. A new King raises in his place. And a year ago the new King was finally crowned and had begun fixing the broken Infinite Realm (Ghost Zone) into what it once was before Pariah Dark took its throne.
(Small personal head-canon, the Ghost Zone reflects the King of the Realm. Pariah Dark was tyrant who carried for nothing but his own power, thus the Zone began to fall apart and thus began his power trip to rip open the realms to gain land again, also even in his sealed slumber he was still King and thus the Realm kept falling apart. However since the day Danny beat him the Realm went into a pause, not healing but no longer breaking apart until the day he could take the crown)
Since the day a New King was crowned, Danny has been healing the Zone, fixing the broken cracks of the Realm, and thus fixing the still oozing scars of the Lazarus Pits on his side of the Realms... Meaning pretty soon the Pits will dry up and be no more.
However for Ra's this is bad news, hence why he's looking into a way to keep the Pits going. And he found out about the old Ghost King, researched and discovered only the Ghost King can make the Pits, and after summoning a ghost he discovered a New King had been crowned around the same time the Pits began to heal (whom was summoned? Aragon cause he hates Danny and just spits out how he hates the new King but never told Ra's his actual name, only calling him "a welp of a boy! Unworthy fool of the crown he bares!" And other names)
Ra's (with the little info he has on Ghosts in general) believes the "New King" might be easy to manipulate to his side if he words things right, believing that all ghosts to hate the living and such. (Stereotyping much Ra's) and could maybe strike up a deal with the New King of the Infinite Realm.
Ra's decides to summon the Ghost King and plans to offer a sacrifice as a gift. (After all what better gift to the dead than a new subject) in exchange for him to rip open new Lazarus Pits.
Who he picks. (Twins AU part)
Either Damian (after finally giving up on the 'fool of a boy for following his father footsteps') whom might as well finally be useful since his defection.
Or his not so dead failure of an heir Danyal, whose going by Danny Fenton in America, he only found out the weak heir is alive after his research into ghosts and finding the Fenton's name on the forefront and saw a photo of the family.
He has no idea how his failed heir is alive though, he knows Damian dealt a mortal blow during their fight for heir-ship (Danyal foolishly letting it happen, not even trying to lift his blade up to block it, thus cementing the belief that Danyal was too much like his father in terms of his heart) and he knows he ordered Talia, who tried to hide her heartbreak behind a uncaring face, to leave the boy’s rapidly cooling body and tend to a almost shell shocked Damian instead so he knows it couldn’t had been her before ordering his men to toss the failure out, not caring what animals eats the remains. He kept his eyes on Talia for a few weeks after, just to make sure she didn’t do anything foolish like go and revive that failure with the Pits.
(None of them knew of the moment the guards left the dying five year old outside that time stopped with a command of “Time Out.” with only the ticking of a clock echoing in Danyal’s fading hearing, the image of a ever changing being staring down at him. Child, Adult, Old Man. Child, Adult, Old Man.-Danyal’s vision faded into darkness as the being gently lifted him up and whispered “So much to do in such little time. Don’t worry, your time is not up just yet young Danyal...”)
Judging from the reports he gained from his men, ‘Daniel’ was found halfway to death outside a hospital in America (somehow reaching it mere seconds after he had been tossed out of the compound according to the record dates, how? He had no idea), it was touch and go but ‘Daniel’ manged to live (police and hospital staff strongly suspecting family abuse from the wounds/scars, heavy abuse thus put the boy in protective custody (aka keeping his sudden appearance at the hospital on the down low until they could find out what happen and who he is). Upon finally waking up after a few weeks it was discovered he had no memory of who he was, who his parents where, or what happened to him. He only got the name ‘Daniel’ after a mysterious gift appeared on his bed in the middle of the night with that name written on it, the gift was of a star pillow/plush. (Danny is a space nerd, will always be a space nerd, let him BE A SPACE NERD WITH MORE SPACE STUFF, even the cute stuff)
Afterwords ‘Daniel’ was bounced around from foster home to foster home after he was healed up until he meet Jazz, Jasmine Fenton, one day at a park. Her parents and her were in town for a Ghost Convention, the two meet and they clicked as siblings in little to no time. ‘Daniel’ later meets Jack and Maddie Fenton and then before any of them knew it ‘Daniel’ wormed his way into their hearts and family, he would later be adopted and become ‘Daniel’ Danny Fenton since then.
Ra’s decides to choose Danyal as the sacrifice, and because he’s Ra’s he plans on tormenting Bruce and Damian with this.
Meaning he plans on kidnapping Damian (and secretly Danyal), which gets Batman to follow, and kill Danyel in front of the both (to hurt Batman for corrupting his heir with his ‘No Kill’ method and to show Damian how much of a failure his fathers methods of 'protecting' are compared to the power of the League) in order to summon the Ghost King.
......
SO anyone wanna a part 2? I got ideas for the summoning itself. I have this urge to actually write it as a story format but who knows.
Part 2 -
#danny phantom#batman#dp#dc#dp x dc#Danyel#Damian#damian al ghul#danny fenton#twins au#ra's al ghul#writing ideas#random idea#crossover#mention of clockwork#talia al ghul#ghost king danny#IGNORE MY RAMBLINGS#this idea wouldn't leave me alone until I did something about it tbh#I'm still a little new to DC/Batman stuff#so please no hate
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Beauty and the Beast
Prologue
Bill Weasley x reader
Summary: After being attacked by a werewolf many years ago, Bill Weasley goes into hiding, away from the outside world. When a young girl goes in search of her father, she finds the place he’s been kept prisoner. And the person keeping him there. How will she gain the trust of this beast, and what happens when feelings start to show?
A/N: I’m so excited to start this story!!! Just an fyi, things from both Harry Potter and Beauty and the Beast have been altered (like the werewolf situation) to fit with this story, but I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is greatly appreciated :) other parts will be longer than this
Deep in the forest, hidden away from watchful eyes, stood an ancient, worn down manor. Surrounded by trees and a tall steel fence, no place could be more menacing. Wood splinting, spider webs forming, most would assume the place to be empty. Abandoned. But in that manor all alone, there lived a young man. He was handsome. Tall, with red hair and deep set eyes. His name was William, or Bill as his family called him, and he was once an incredibly respected wizard. Strong and precise, he had the chance to work alongside some of the best. Becoming a curse-breaker was like a dream, and he was damn good at it. Everything seemed to perfectly fall into place for Bill. Until one unfortunate night changed it all.
The attack was sudden. And over as quick as it happened. Bill tried to be on guard at all times. But when he saw the ambush on a group of young witches, his only thought was keeping them safe. His act of selflessness almost cost him his life.
Strong hands grabbed at his jacket, throwing him hard to the floor. A deep growl echoed above Bill, and he had no time to react before sharp nails slashed the side of his face. He doesn’t remember screaming or fighting back. He can’t even remember feeling any pain. Just lying on the ground. Accepting Death’s cold touch.
Hours passed before he was found. While doctors and nurses tried their best to heal, the damage was already done. Scars formed on his face, and Bill was told he could turn. The attack had made him half werewolf. He knew the only way to prevent this evolving and getting worse was to kill the one who did this to him. But with only a trace of fur on his coat, and no chance to see his face, there was no use trying.
Years passed, and after leaving his job to settle into the desolated manor, Bill had become used to being alone. Sure, his family visited to check up on him, but he never liked them being around him for long. He was terrified of what he could become, and the possibility of losing control. Molly was worried for her eldest son. The isolation had been affecting him for far too long. She’d even tried setting Bill up on dates. He never went through with them though. He could never see someone caring for him in that way. He felt like a monster. He was a monster. A horrifying creature. If and when he turned, he was nothing but a beast. And who could ever learn, to love a beast?
Tag list: @ohantonia @k-k-merlin @nessa3nessa
Please let me know if you want to be tagged, sorry some of the tags aren’t working for some reason.
#bill weasley x reader#bill weasley#x reader#domnhall gleeson#domnhall gleeson x reader#harry potter#beauty and the beast#rewrite
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silent protecter | knight!nanami kento x princess reader
warnings : nanami is a few years older than reader, jealous toxic and possessive nanami, little ooc,
slightly suggestive ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
notes : reader is a Princess and nanami is her knight who watches over her, this is just blurbs not super cohesive fyi maybe I’ll write more about this story later :3 also like always I don’t have time to proofread I work in corporate America folks
The moment Nanami laid eyes on you the day you were born he felt something inside him change; maybe it was because he knew from that moment forward he would be your protector until the day he died just as his father was for the king—your father. He held you in his arms, you cooing and your hands pulling at the strings on his shirt, his face was scrunched as he disliked babies. “She likes you.” The Queen said her expression was tired yet gentle. He only continued to make a disgusted face which only made you laugh more. “What’s her name?” He asked informally as he handed you back to your mother. He watched as your mother caressed your chubby cheeks a look of pure love gleamed in her eyes, “______. My dear sweet ______.” The queen replied voice so soft. ______, that was a lovely name. He thought.
Nanami was only your senior by five years but yet he was a still a young boy with an immense amount of responsibility, and truth be told he hardly wanted to interact with you when you were a baby even a toddler he did not care that he was your knight and you were the Princess. It wasn’t until you were older at the innocent age of seven when he began to interact with you more. Partially it was because his father forced him to get to know you more and the other reason was because he was constantly following you around, sword in hand and an uninterested expression on his pale features. You often bombard him with questions which he dutifully answered slowly he began to open up to you and thus a true friendship sparked.
When Nanami was a teen he realized something in him had changed. The way your hand would brush against him would make his heart flutter, your gentle laughter made his face heat up, the way your soft silky hair felt against his fingertips as he brushed your hair on rare occasions. He would feel jealous when he saw others flirting with you in an attempt to court you but he knew no man was worthy of your hand in marriage so he’d find them afterwards and tell these men that they were unworthy and to not ever flirt with you again. It worked most of the time, it was his way of weeding out cowards. You were oblivious to the fact that your knight was the one driving away men, you certainly thought you were the problem. “You’re not doing anything wrong my Princess. Those men aren’t worth your time anyways.” Nanami consoled you as he soothingly ran his hands through your hair as you cried into his chest about being the most undesirable princess in the world.
Nanami watched you from a distance as you sat on a bench on the gardens with a potential suitor. He glared daggers at the white haired man caressed your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He watched as your face heated up and you shyly looked away, your hands bunching up the fabric of your beautiful dress. Satoru Gojo, a man from a powerful noble family within your kingdom he had been seeing you for months now trying to win your heart over and it seemed to be working. Though Nanami knew the tales of the womanizer Satoru, he saw how the man toyed with you but you were too naive to notice. Subconsciously his fists tightened at his side and he swore he made eye contact with the white haired devil who shot him a smirk. God he could strangle him! “The Princess seems to really like him! Reckon this one will work out?” A voice said from beside him, for the first time knocking Nanami out of his trance. He looked at the raven haired man next to him and grunted, “Hope not. I hope the King doesn’t allow ______, to marry that fool.” He responded to his fellow knight Yu Haibara who was also tasked with guard duty. Yu laughed softly, “Seems like someone’s je-“ he began was quickly shut his month upon seeing the glare Nanami gave him. More time passed and eventually he watched as you wandered further into the gardens with Satoru Gojo as much as he wanted to follow he knew he couldn’t. He had to respect the boundaries that were given to him. It was nauseating to think what was happening between you and Satoru right now he only prayed it was innocent then suddenly he heard you shriek. Instantly he sprung into action following the sound of your voice. His sword was drawn expecting the worse but only to see you pressed against Satoru’s chest.
“Woah there. Don’t worry I wasn’t doing anything to the Princess. A wasp was chasing her. Don’t worry I handled it.” Satoru said cooly a boyish grin playing on his lips. His strong hand was wrapped around your waist lingering a little too close to your bum. Nanami sighed putting away his weapon he waisted no time walking up to you and placing a hand on your shoulder, “I’m afraid it’s time for the Princess’ classes. Come Yu will take you, your highness.” He said. You pulled away from Satoru and nodded, “Ah I see thank you Kento. Satoru it was a pleasure as always seeing you.” You smiled bowing to the white haired man before following Yu back into the castle, leaving Nanami and Satoru alone. “I’ll escort you out, sir.” Nanami said a tinge of annoyance in his voice. Satoru laughed, “You’re jealous aren’t you?” He asked. Nanami stiffened and only motioned for Satoru to walk. “Oh come on Kento no need to be so formal with me. We went to school together and are friends. _______, likes me which is a shame because I don’t really like her that way. Not my type. My folks are wanting me to marry her so I can be king. Don’t really want that. It’s a shame your her knight so you can’t marry her.” Satoru said walking past the blond. Nanami’s eye twitched as glared at him, “Then stop playing with her feelings.” He suddenly said, Satoru pausing. “Or what? It seems like I’m on track to be the next ki-“ then suddenly Satoru was shoved against a brick wall. Nanami gripping his frenemy’s collar. “Your playing with the wrong person Satoru. Go find someone else to manipulate but leave _______ out of this.” He hissed. Suddenly Satoru began to laugh using a small burst of cursed energy to push Nanami away. He straightened his collar, “I just wanted to see if you really liked her. Fine she’s yours. I’ll stop courting her.” He winked at the blond before walking past him leaving the castle grounds. Nanami stared blankly now realizing his mistake, you’d be absolutely heartbroken.
The next day came and so did Satoru Gojo’s rejection much to Nanami’s pleasure though he hated seeing you cry. He sat on your plush bed adorned with expensive blankets as you sobbed your head on his lap. He stroked your head as he gazed at your shaking body. “Shh shh…it’s okay Princess. He wasn’t worth your time anyways. Satoru is sleazy and a womanizer he just wanted to use you for your status.” He tried to comfort you but you only cried harder. “No one likes me Kento you only deal with me because you have to!” You cried lifting your head up as tears streamed down your face. You looked like a mess but to Nanami you were beautiful as always. His expression remained indifferent as he looked at you, “I like you ______. I stay around because I care about you.” He explained. Your eyes widened for a brief moment before you cried again collapsing into his chest. “What would I do without.” You cried. A sly smirk played on his lips as he wrapped his arms around you patting your back.
Some years passed and you were now twenty two the time to marry was near and your parents were putting more pressure on you finding a suitor. Nanami grew more restless more agitated the more men he saw trying to court you. He was losing himself—finally he had enough. He stepped into your bedroom without a knock just as the sun began to set. He stood watching you for a few moments as you hummed softly to yourself applying various creams to your face. Clearing his throat he began to speak, “_______.” He said cooly. You jumped in surprise turning to face the tall blond man, pressing a hand to your chest you laughed, “Goodness Kento you scared me. I figured you would of already been in bed since it is past your scheduled ‘work’ time.” You said. Nanami scoffed, “You know I’m on duty 24/7.” He retorted. You shrugged turning around to screw the lid onto your face cream. Swiftly Nanami made his way towards you closing the distance and when you spun around once again he was only a few inches from your body. His tall frame towered above you, “There’s something we need to discuss.” He stated. You nodded slowly standing up, your heart rate was through the roof, “Okay..go ahead.” You said meekly.
With one quick motion you were pinned to the wall as Nanami’s amber eyes peered into yours. His strong hand was placed firmly on your shoulder and his other hand against the wall trapping you. “Wha-what are you doing?” You stammered out. You’d never seen him act this way before it was intimidating. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours he let out an exasperated sigh left his mouth as he closed his eyes, “Your hunt for finding a husband it’s over. I hate the way those men stare at you…like you’re a piece of meat. They only want you because of your status. They don’t appreciate you for who you really are.” He said voice low. Your breathing was heavy as you looked up at your knight, “Wha..what are you—“ you began but once again you were cut off. You were so confused a million different questions were running through your mind. What on earth was he going on about? “Quiet I’m not done.” He silenced you. You tried wiggling out of his grasp but his grip on tightened, “I’ve decided we’re going to get married. I’m the only one that understands you. I trust you agree also?” He asked though it wasn’t so much of a question. Your eyes widened in shock, “is this a confession Kento?” You asked meekly. He hummed in response, “Mhm. I love you _______. Your status means nothing to me. Your just _______ to me.” He said though this time his voice was more center. He pulled away from you releasing his grip when you didn’t say anything.
Nanami sighed in frustration burying his face into his hand shaking his head, “Forget I said anything. I spoke out of place Princess.” He apologized. He knew if word got out about what he just confessed his father would do more than just reprimand him. He’d be lucky to get away with his life. Suddenly he felt your soft fingers wrap around his wrist, “Wait Kento. I think…no I do love you too. Perhaps I just thought it wouldn’t be possible for us to get married that’s why I tried so desperately to find someone else to love but nothing ever connected.” You confessed your voice was soft and gentle. Nanami turned to face you this time a look of surprise on his face, he couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked. So shy and submissive it turned him on like no other.
He quickly closed the gap between you two and collided his lips against yours. Your lips were so soft unlike his slightly chapped ones. His calloused hands cupped your face he bit your lip you let out a gasp and a moan left your mouth. “K-Kento.” You gasped out. As Nanami’s strong hands began to travel to your collarbone than to your chest he was stopped by your bedroom door opening.
“N-Nanami!” The familiar voice of Yu Haibabra stammered out. Quickly the blond pulled away from you and stood in front turning to face the raven haired boy, “What?” He said through gritted teeth. “I…I…the King told me to retrieve the Princess. A suitor is here to see her.” He stammered out his face was flushed a bright red. Nanami scoffed, “We’ll be out in a minute. Tell the King to send the suitor away. ______ has found herself a husband.” He commanded. Yu quickly bowed slamming the door shut behind him rushing away. When Nanami turned to face you he noticed how flushed your face was you avoided his gaze shyly twirling your fingers, “H-how do I tell father?” You asked. Nanami lifted your chin up forcing you to look at him, “Don’t worry I’ll handle it. Fix yourself up then we’ll go see him.” He said cooly.
#nanami kento#jjk nanami#fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#au#reader insert#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#female reader#fantasy au#writings#fluff#romance
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Over Again - main post & chapter list
This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges
Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming.
or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)
18+ minors DNI
key themes: alternating timeline (2000-2003 / 2023-2024), 90s/00s country and latin music and dancing, romance, family vibes
series tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, romance, light angst (plus the angst of thinking the other person is dead for 20 years, aka the TLOU norm), pet names (darlin’, baby, honey, pretty girl), small age difference (reader is 26, Joel is 32/almost 33 when they meet in 2000), no use of y/n, teacher!reader (with vague details), smut (I'll update specific warnings for each chapter, but just FYI for later chapters: Joel calls reader a good girl, neck grabbing (no breath play), a bit of manhandling and spitting, a lot of sex) (feel free to dm any specific questions)
a/n about reader: I've paid a lot of attention to how the reader is described in this fic. I've avoided skin color, hair type, body shape/size descriptions, and even clothing (except for one or two spots where you are specifically wearing jeans and boots). You are vaguely shorter than Joel. He does not run his fingers through your hair, and you feel the blood rush to your face or your face heat, but you don't turn red or pink. Please tell me if you notice anything I missed - I want this to be as inclusive as possible.
a/n: this is the first fic I've written in almost 20 years. this man, I swear.
wordcount: 42.6k
This fic is completely finished and posted! Chapter links under the cut.
Read it on ao3
Bonus: Mix CD (plot related) & series playlist, with headcanons: here.
Chapter List
Five times you and Joel fell deeper in love…
Chapter 1 - Meet Cute - Jackson, Early Winter 2023 | Austin, Summer 2000
Chapter 2 - Breaking the Ice - Jackson, Spring 2024 | Austin, Spring 2001
Chapter 3 - Dinner - Jackson, Spring 2024 | Austin, Spring 2001
Chapter 4 - First Date - Jackson, Spring 2024 | Austin, Spring 2001
Chapter 5 - Staying Over - Boston, September 26, 2003 | Jackson, Spring 2024
… and one time you did something about it.
Epilogue: Together - Austin, December 2002 | Jackson, Early Fall 2024
Outtakes and Snippets
Canned Heat (Austin, October, 2001)
Preview/sneak peeks: fic preview | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5
#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#x reader
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This Week in BL - New & Old Tropes Galore
Entirely subjective yadda yadda. Organized sorta by favs in each category.
Sept 2023 Wk 4
Ongoing Series - Thai
I Feel You Linger in the Air (Fri grey) ep 7 of 12 - occasionally I forget that Yai is like 20 and this is his first love affaire. That poem bit gave me very Goethe vibes. Lots of doomed lesbians in this ep. Doomed love in general. Frankly? I was hoping for more oil less sad. Also, these two are making some v stupid mistakes. Also: MORE boys dancing.
Finally... who was it wanted a rain kiss? You got your rain kissing here, okay? No umbrellas to be had, apparently.
Dangerous Romance (Fri YT) ep 7 of 12 - I love them so much. They are so darn adorable. I like how forthright Kang is. Boy has no game and is such a dork but at least he's enthusiastic. I love the “my boyfriend smells good” trope that BL is into these days. I’m into it, too. The bff enemies drunken bathroom shenanigans was v funny. Also @heretherebedork your boys are couple dancing all over the damn place this week.
I guess we get the boyfriends ep next week?
Hidden Agenda (Sun YT) ep 12fin - The conflict really kind of wasn’t in this last ep. But I guess it was a fine, if not a particularly strong, ending. I wish we’d had the family conflict threaded throughout the series. It would have felt like a deeper more honest drama and the actors could have handled it. They’re ready. How pretty were Joong’s single picturesque crystal tears? Honestly, it's been lovely, boys. Not at all memorable, but lovely.
Quick pitch Hidden Agenda:
A relatively simple and harmless old-fashioned style university Thai BL, that started out Cyrano de Bergerac style but then drifted away into forgetfulness. It felt like it could have fit into the En of Love universe, except that it was high quality GMMTV with very pretty makeup. I enjoyed it for what it was, it's just that wasn’t much. 8/10 RECOMMENDED
Naughty Babe (Sat YT) ep 5 of 8 - Am I mostly watching this for Est and annoyed he doesn’t have a pair? Yes. (Am I writing a whole revenge plot in my head: "seduced to the good side by my enemy's hot bodyguard" with him and the Tem character? Yes. Yes I am. But that’s way too KinnPorsche for this show.) That said, MaxNat really are a great pair. Nice that Dio is figuring out how evil his own family is. Weirdly, I kind of like this speculation that if gay marriage were legal rich families would use it for arranged-marriage power plays. Can you imagine what China would do with this concept if they had access to it?
Love in Translation (Sat iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - The morning after was sweet, I do like it when we get these scenes in BL. FYI no one misgendered Bojji except the caption writer. The screaming "discovery" scene was adorable. And I am very much falling in love with all of the side characters. I also love how aggressive Yang is, like he stepped out of a 2016 Chinese BL into Thailand. And I adore the main brother relationship.
I have to say, this is going to be a difficult BL for me to review. I didn’t like the first 4 episodes but it seems like I’m going to love the final 3. I’m actually really looking forward to the finale next week. Boy, do I feel strange about this. In other news, is it just me or is it weird to get a gay kiss from Ngern almost 10 years later? How late is too late for smooching a boy?
Never too late...
Absolute Zero (Thai Weds iQIYI) - from 2021, Studio Wabi Sabi and New Siwaj finally brings us this “time loop to prevent tragedy” romance based on the novel of the same name. I think we can expect this to be sad (so it will likely slide down my list as I become more confident about this). Mix is a great actor, so I’m not worried about that aspect, but I am warning you this won’t be your classic fluffy Thai BL. It’s a bit slow moving for me so far. Meanwhile, a revelation:
Thai high school BL is all about the hands. I blame Love Sick.
FYI the outdoor movie they watch is Love of Siam Thailand’s first real queer movie, also featured in My Only 12%.
I'm in trouble, Ongsa is such a sunshine cutie and Sansoon is so lost and sad. Pretty sure I won’t have the patience for 12 episodes of this, but I’ll stick with it for now because a pair like this is yaoi-induced catnip for me.
Only Friends (Sat YT) ep 8 of 10 - Ah, Ray, baby, you can’t get what you want if you want the wrong thing. Also, corruption charges much? Is Ray turning into Ton or is that just me? I still hold that Jenny’s is the only story I actually wanted. Although, I did enjoy the two bi boys bonding over Freddie. GMMTV sure is making good use of Title now that they got him away from Wabi Sabi and I’m NOT mad about it (4 shows & counting). Under ordinary circumstances, I probably would have dropped this show by now. But something keeps dragging me back.
My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Right Time Right You ep 6 - This couplet ended up feeling like an amateurish short. It was interesting in that way shorts can sometimes push into unusual territory, but very slow. My favorite so far, but that’s not saying much since we've only had 3. Kinda amorphous ending. 5/10 watch it if you have nothing better to do. Next week's looks pretty but silly: You Are My Soulmate.
Venus in the Sky (Tues iQIYI) 5 of 10 eps - I don’t understand the bit with the girl, car & eyebrows. Was that all just ad copy? This show is so bad I’m mostly fast forwarding now. I mean the leads are cute and earnest but that’s it. NO SINGING! And... nothing happened this ep.
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Kisseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan Tues Viki & iQIYI) ep 7-8 of 13(?) - Buckle up I got A LOT to say. Ep 7 was the boyfriends ep! Look there’s a a lot of problematic going on here by western standards: age gap (FYI age of consent in Taiwan is 16) + teacher+student, but if you’ve been reading this blog for a while you should know that Taiwan likes both high heat and taboo content (and so do I) plus (unlike Mame) they just lean lube into those kinks. And I, for one, am delighted. I talk about taboo in terms of age gap here and stepbrothers here. I’ve never done teacher/ student because we don’t get it often enough (insert sad face). These are not things that I’m going to complain about or rehash, so, moving on...
I found a lot to love about ep 7: tie grabs, smiley kisses, communication, being held down, younger aggressor, AND preliminary research= all good things. They even brought in morning aftercare, and shared trauma! I love a show that’s both unexpected yet entirely classic Taiwanese BL. I love that the family appeared as a plot device and then disappeared again. It’s all highly amusing.
Gaga dropped ep 8 a week early, I’m assuming this was a mistake since they skip next week. But hey!
Ep 8: def uhaul lesbians. Also cute queer fam moment. Ring finger biting = v hawt. Then of course it all goes south. Tres romantic means of taking the rap, gotta say. No one does gay sappy quite like Taiwan. Also, now we know why he loses his memory and Ai Di has to go in after him. Honestly, I’m not pleased to see yet another amnesia trope raise its ugly… head (why so many this year?). But it seems to be this year's trend.
And I know there is more trauma coming, but in classic Taiwan fashion it’s all gonna be fine in the end even if that HEA is chaotic and entirely unearned. Don't worry, all. We good.
You Are Mine (Taiwan Fri Gaga) eps 4 of 10 - Oh noes, sunshine has a cold. And not from the rain... just, like, a normal cold. Amazing. But then when baby gets kidnapped, daddy gets v mad. Honestly, I am charmed by the show. It is very old-fashioned "domineering CEO puts little lady up against the wall" and it’s Taiwan, and thus I am not mad about it. This is what we would be getting from Mainland China if China we’re still making pulp BL. I am disposed to simply enjoy the utter "80s bodice ripper but gay"-ness of it all.
Bon Appetit (Korea Weds iQIYI) 1-2 of 8 - from 2022. If you have premium icky VIP you can binge it all now. I don’t, so instead I’m watching it 2 new episodes every Weds. Struggling heartbroken loser-ish office worker who lives off junk food + sunshine neighbor who loves to cook (from his past with a long-held crush). Also there is a "love class" element. Why does Korea like this conceit so much? Do their universities really engage in socialization training? Gotta say I’m getting whiffs of stalker... but only whiffs. Basically, this show is going poster child “way to a man’s heart is through his stomach“. Bit too much flashback, but I like that our chef is open about liking a boy, and I like that they remember things differently and in alignment with their own egos. And I like that we got a confession already. Ah KBL, it is nice to watch something that MUST move plot quickly.
My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 6 of 8 - Jealous weatherman is ridiculous. Japan = queen of “why don’t you guys just talk?”
Mr Cinderella 2 (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 2 - Ba Vinh & Minh Thao reprising their roles as Dung & Khoa what do we think? 8 eps? 10? We got the stepbrothers (or whatever they are) backstory. Also My Prettiest Cat-boy does certifiable nutcake v well. Psychopath looks hot on him.
It's Airing But...
Crazy Handsome Rich (Sun Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - The sound. No. DNF
I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan Tues Netflix-Japan & ????) - Adapted from the manga, childhood best friends: The cool, smart one who’s good at everything, and his average, dorky friend who struggles. Always by the other’s side, but not together in the way they truly want to be.
Unfortunately I Cannot Reach You, in classic JBL fashion, could not be reached.
In case you missed it?
Viki dropped Our Dating Sim the movie. I didn’t notice any extra footage and they took out all the in game/high school flashback stingers. At first, I didn’t really miss them but by the end of the movie I really did. So this is going to be one of those rare KBL instances where I recommend sticking to the original series over the repackaged movie.
Next Week Looks Like This:
Upcoming October BL
10/1 Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine? AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? (Japan cinema release in-country only) - This one is a movie from Japan so in customary fashion who tf knows when (or if) it will get international distribution. Salaryman Ayumu Koiwai just can't tear his eyes away from the strong, muscular man as he checks on the stocks of the vending machine in his office.
10/5 If It’s With You AKA Even If I Fall In Love With You AKA Kimi to nara Koi wo Shite Mite mo’ (Japan Gaga) - from MBS a live action adaptation of Kubota Maru’s manga ‘君となら恋をしてみても. Amane has stopped loving people due to trauma until he meets Ryuji. At first Amane just wants to play with Ryuji but… feelings. I am assuming 8 eps and rumored to be taking Weatherman's spot so that date is likely wrong.
10/6 What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 4th installment in this series (1st series, 1 special, 1 movie prior) about a lawyer who lives with his boyfriend, a hairdresser, and cooks for him. Season 2 will follow the couple as they enter their 50’s. Slice-of-life drama adapted from a beloved manga series of the same name.
10/6 My Beautiful Man: Eternal AKA Utsukushii Kare Eternal (Japan movie Viki & Gaga) - This is the 3rd and final installment the series. The 2nd season didn’t blow me away the way the 1st did, but I still liked it. I'm looking forward to the finale. I hope we get character growth for a change.
10/31 SHADOW (Thai VIU ????) - this is a horror BL featuring ghosts and other paranormal elements in a high school setting. I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all, but if it must be done in BL let Japan do it). It features Singto (who did paranormal BL He's Coming to Me) opposite Fluke N (who's done a couple horror's before). Also Fiat. Dan suffers from sleep paralysis, and in his dreams he sees a shadow that suffocates him. It gets worse when he transfers schools.
October? Bump Up Project AKA Bump Up Business (Korea ????) - BL staring OnlyOneOf that released(??) as a movie in July but is now being recut and reissued as a series. Stars NineMill and from Idol Romance bulled as a love story between a trainee who is about to debut and a celebrity from the same agency (based on a webtoon). OnlyOneOf have been auditioning for this since Libido IMHO. You can watch me chronicle their BL MV work in this post. Idol Romance will do sad but can do good kisses (Wish You, Nobleman Ryu, Once Again, Kissable Lips, Poongduck 304, Tasty Florida, Tinted With You) but I don't think we will get any in this. After that OmegaX Shoulder bullshizz buisness I am very wary of this show.
2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
There was a ton of truly great stuff in this week's Kiseki, but this was hands down my favorite. (Pun intended.)
Oh and the neck kisses of course.
I LOVE HIM your honor.
GMMTV's ongoing love affair with the scent trope.
Calling out out new couple's dance trope. (Both Dangerous Romance)
(Last week)
#this week in bl#bl updates#bl reviews#currently airing bl#new bl#bl 2023#Thai BL#Taiwanese BL#Korean BL#Japanese BL#Vietnamese BL#Hidden Agenda Review#Hidden Agenda#Kisseki: Dear to Me#Dangerous Romance the series#GMMTV#Our Dating Sim#Absolute Zero the series#BLs dancing#new tropes in BL
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