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plasticfangtastic · 5 months

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American Royalty Ch. 13

A Homelander x F! Reader/Dadlander fic

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this whole story this is officially the final chapter but I've written an epilogue and should post that soonish as well as a part 2 of my masterlist. Hope y'all enjoy this story a smuch as I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter 13

Love

He’s more than grateful for his suit as your hand tried to choke the life out of him– only pulling on his collar as you screamed in agony. The epidural had done jack shit, and now you found yourself relieving some terrible memories only this time you could actually curse at the bastard responsible for it all.

Homelander had barely made a sound, keeping sight of the newborn as your muscles pushed and the doctor’s hands jammed themselves inside you to take the head, your tears, screams and curses nothing but white nose, he only wanted to hear the sound of new cries.

The blanket obscuring the sight for you, he looked back at you catching your brain and skull until he shut it off.

“Why isn’t she crying…?” you panted, your body shivering and the pain burning your entire lower half feeling your body trying to re-adjust and struggling with it– John…?”

The doctor and the nurse took the baby rubbing its back and clearing its airways, Homelander just broke the side of the bed into a fine dust as he awaited for any sound.

Any sound other than your spiked blood pressure.

It was all so silent, even if everything was screaming around him.

‘cough’

Wet coughs, and then crying.

His sight following their sullied hands wrapping her on a towel as they brought the wriggling and screaming mass towards you, you sobbed with a smile as the baby screamed, Homelander winced as her cries were more than just deafening, they were rattling the thinnest parts of the equipment surrounding youse, you cringed bringing a weak hand to your ear as the baby whimpers teased the arrival of a banshee.

“That’s going to be a problem.” you said weakly, holding the baby closer to your face as her cries lowered in intensity– hi… hi… Genevieve…”

You tried not to cry but you couldn’t help it as you finally were able to hold her.

Homelander was unable to look away as he caught her pale blue eyes and pale blonde hair.

He threw his remaining glove wherever wanting to hold her, you passed her still connected to her towards him as his whole body leaned towards you in desperate anticipation.

Crying without making a sound, his eyes unblinking as his daughter squinted, she had a lot of hair for a newborn, even some eyebrows too– just like in Helena’s pictures Helena, he thought.

His hands finally felt the rush, he whimpered as his finger touched the fresh skin cooling down, cleaning some of the spit forming on the corners of her mouth.

Homelander could have stood like this for hours if not days, just watching her, just wanting to cement this memory so deep into his being that he could feel her weightlessness forever.

He had no clue what to say, putting her against his chest wishing he had worn a paper thin t-shirt instead of wanting to make a good first impression.

“Fuck.” He wiped the buggers under his nose, trying to breathe and calm down– hey… buddy… princess…” his body shaking more than his voice.

He kissed her forehead, wanting to keep her against him, his eyes shut, he just wanted to remain in this embrace for the rest of his life, that’s until the nurse asked for the baby, his eyes glowed, leaning away from her.

“Hey! Hey! is okay they have to clean her up!” you took his arm.

He looked so spooked, his skin so pale and his expression mortified at the thought of these disinfectant stenched people touching his baby, the nurse gulped as the blinkers refused to turn off.

The room seemed so white and sterile, everything seemed dangerously familiar, his mind thinking he would never see her again if he let them touch her. Did his mother feel the same? Did they rip him away from her or did his mother not even notice… did she not feel this dread? He wondered.

“He can help clean her up, no?” You were too tired to be nervous.

She nodded violently, like a herded lamb he followed the nurse not wanting to let the baby away from his sight.

You could only half-smile as you watched him try his best to follow the nurses, tearing up as the baby complained, his movements too brusk he swore, god knows how bad he was going to get, after you got to take her home.

Ashley looked at the time, ordering your staff around to triple check everything was perfect– that the house wasn’t too bright or loud, no faucet leaked, that not a single speck of dust would be found, that the beds were made and the new pillows were ready, but above that the nursery was set up. Your sitting room had been made into an informal nursery while Helena’s office was returned into a bedroom. Ashley personally inspecting the room making sure everything was perfect– the dark but elaborate wallpaper was spotless, soft and cozy furnishings ready for you, the vintage cot tidy, and all the organic and biodegradable baby cleaning products a person could get their hands on were still unopened. She took a pack of organic 98% water baby wipes squeezing it to make sure it was still wet inside.

“You could have sent an assistant or let the maids take care of this, auntie Ashley.”

She turned to Helena trying not to fluster, her speech manners never failing to make her uneasy, especially after seeing how trigger happy she was in the labs.

She had seen her leftovers.

The failures that had been flattened for easy disposal– she didn’t doubt this was his kid.

“Homelander entrusted me with making sure everything was perfect… and he’s been in a wonderful mood lately… he even hasn’t left any collateral in the last two months!”

“Sure… but I guess him being extra happy means everybody can breathe easily… considering he’s taking 7 months of paternity leave. Already booked that trip to Costa Rica?”

“Actually doing Puerto Rico, instead.” She smiled.

The idea of not seeing Homelander for over half the year, had a good chunk of the building ready to whip out the champagne bottles and turn the whole place into a never ending New Years party, so she was more than happy to go the extra mile.

“You wanna bet twenty bucks he drags that second cot into the bedroom by the end of the day?” She takes a clean crisp bill out of her dungaree.

“Deal.”

Her phone buzzed.

“He’s here!”

Helena and Ashley rushed to the stairs, a bit unfair if only one of them could jump from the fourth floor effortlessly-- Helena stopped only by a gentle bubble wrapping her, Ryan straightened his shirt having beaten the both of them to the race.

“Did ya brush your hair?” Ryan asked at the sight of his sister.

“I don’t know how to tell you this but a newborn will not remember how my hair looked like.”

“Your funeral then.”

That felt like half a joke and half a reprimand, she looked at her clothes, the maids had picked her a red dungaree, and a black turtleneck not to mention her shoes had been polished she looked fine despite the messy hair, Homelander had wanted everybody to make a perfect first impression and after two days in the hospital god knew what sort of mood he was on.

The doors opened, you entered slightly dazed and glad when Helena jumped to your side, pulling at your sweatshirt, you wished to pick her up but you had little strength so you bended until you could kiss her head, she cooed under your touch, her gaze quickly headed towards the basket in her father hand, and the light sounds emanating from inside it.

The Competition.

“Feeling better?” Helena asked.

“If you ever have children, do yourself a favor and pay for a surrogate. It doesn’t get better the second time around” You tried to sound lighthearted but you caught that horrified expression creeping in John’s face– hey if you want somebody to shove their whole hand up your ass without warning after they slice your taint go for it.” You were too exhausted to sound genuinely angry.

“Glad you’re back mom.” She said sweetly.

You held your lower back as you straightened and Helena went to peek at the basket, her tiny hands reaching up, and Ryan was soon joining her, tall enough to catch a glimpse of the pink wrapped bundle.

“Genevieve… this is your big brother Ryan and your big sister Helena” His voice is gentle and quiet, watching their hands intensely, trying to catch the imaginary microbes in their fingertips, he caught himself thinking poorly feeling a squeeze in his chest, his mouth formed a thin line, brushing it off before entering your home– and this is home much better than that hospital.”

Ashley finally makes it down, she isn’t too excited to see him but there was the 7 month long vacation, her smile genuine as she almost jumps across those last few steps eager to welcome you both.

“The kids have been amazingly well-behaved, they missed you both a lot!” She catches her heel before crashing against Homelander’s shadow– oh my god, she’s beautiful, just look at those chubby cheeks!”

The baby squinted with her pale blue eyes, her skin still pink and out of instinct her fingers wags to catch Genevieve’s attention, Homelander stillness catches her attention immediately.

“This is… Ashley… I guess…” His lack of sudden reprimand worries her, but his expression looks so traumatized, she’s unsure what to feel looking directly at you for clues only getting shrugged shoulders in response– Is her room ready?”

“It’s been deep cleansed, everything fluffed and stocked” She puffed her chest– the baby monitor has been set up, top of the line as you asked and I already set-up the app on your phone” She digs into her pocket to hand him his mobile– made sure to get one of our nerds to ensure there were no open back-channels so no pervy creep can access the video feed.”

“People can do that?”

“Oh yeah, you have no idea how many people go day to day not knowing their baby monitor is being seen by some weirdo in Thailand.”

Homelander stared at his phone, then looked up at the camera set up in her bedroom.

“Thank you I had no idea… thanks” He spoke so softly, Ashley stomach sank as if his words were wet cement setting in her stomach– I’m just going to take Genevieve to her room, you can go rest my love” He looked at his kids who looked so confused– you guys want to help mommy get settled in?”

They wanted to see their baby sister but upon seeing those reddened eyes about to burst into lamentations, the impulses died.

“Is he okay?” Ashley whispered into your ear as Helena took you to the couch and Ryan went to grab you some juice– what happened?”

“I have no idea… he hasn’t… he’s been really odd since he first saw her…”

“I imagine seeing his kid is an albino its doing numbers in his little prejudicial brain, dontcha think?” Helena took your bag and handed it to the maid– so in the likelihood of him committing some good ol’ fashion filicide, how do you want to operate?”

Even the maid looked horrified, Helena sight on the ceiling ears unable to pick up any sounds but as her eyes blipped she could see him standing on top of that crib as if he was cosplaying the creepy corner dude from the Blair Witch Project, in black and blurry blue 240p definition.

“What do you mean ‘albino’?” You asked nervously.

“There’s blonde and there is… we should be running up there and check up on them– white.”

Ashley, yourself and the maid gulped in unison, the maid hurried first unsure as to what to say as Ashley and yourself followed.

Homelander didn’t even notice the door opening, he just seemed so firmly planted in the metal rail of the cot, Homelander hadn’t blink or breathe much as he looked at the tiny thing, and even if she wasn’t yours to keep, you took a step forward trying to calm yourself as you poked his shoulder, he jumped on his heel violently awaken from his trance, his head shaking to see what dangers were around but it was only his picture perfect nursery and you three.

“Hey, John…babe– everything alright?” You asked, trying to keep your voice calm.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you with exhaustion.

“Oh just wanted to make sure if you needed anything, sir?” The maid asked.

“Thought you might like a bath, you haven’t showered in one day… we don’t want Genevieve thinking you're stinky” You say

“I don’t smell.”

“Your suit smells like chlorine.”

It smelled like a hospital, he looked back at his baby and with a nervous disposition he headed out more obedient than he had ever been in his entire adult life not even looking back at you, nauseous at his own fictitious odor, catching Ashley by the entrance stopping to put a hand on her shoulder just to ground himself once more.

“Do you believe in God, Ashley?”

She almost shat herself.

“Not sure… I was raised a methodist… sometimes– why?” She squeals that last question.

He marchest away just as Ryan gets to the third floor with a glass of juice in his hand, Helena follows him, the brother hands you your drink and turns to his sister trying to ignore whatever had happened on his father’s face, and the smell of fear tingling his nose.

“Hope you get big soon! So we can play baseball together!”

Ashley bit her tongue as she got closer and pulled you into a corner, still shaking severely.

“You want me to get you some security?”

“I think not sleeping for 4 days has gotten to him… keep your ringtone on.”

Helena poured bathing salts and some other powders that turned the hot bath into some green shade, he half-watchest as the maid was hesitant to leave before leaving the little girl to wash her father’s hair as the man seemed more muppet than person, he was a difficult man to work for, almost one wrong word away from lashing out, difficult to please and finicky but right now this was some stranger wearing his face as his head poked out of the bathtub.

“I feel if I blink my eyelids will stay shut forever.”

“When was the last time you blinked?”

“Twenty minutes?”

She took to the medicine cabinet and with a foamy hand she took the eye drops.

He could finally blink but he found little relief, he let his eyes close as his daughter washed his hair making a slight mess as she took the shower head and washed the apple cider conditioner off his hair.

“You should go to sleep…”

“I am sorry.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am sorry I wasn’t there when you were born… am sorry…” His chest felt so hollow but incandescent, the water was cold compared to the ache burning his body, a pain squeezing his heart, tightening as he gasped– I…”

She poured rain into his nose, letting him choke, he got the odd coughing fit splashing and sloshing as he leaned forward, he turned barely catching himself as Helena took a jar of hair mask off the vanity.

“Good. Sucks to discover new emotions doesn’t it?” She throws the lid aside and hands him the jar– You should feel absolutely awful about being a deadbeat, and about missing out on Ryan because you decided to be a homewrecker… leave the cream on for 3 minutes.”

She hurried off the bathroom, spear heading towards you as she catches you in your bedroom closing the door to find you and Ashley discussing some escape plans.

“We need to leave. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” She shushed, pressing her dry back against the door.

“What?” You pressed.

She quickly explained and all you could do was roll your eyes and flick her forehead.

“Helena!” You turned to Ashley calmly– it’s okay I think I know what’s going on please take her and Ryan downstairs… You start writing your apology letter!”

You waited till the floor was empty, heading towards the bathroom just stopping by the sitting room before to catch a glimpse of your gargling bub who seemed to enjoy the colorful toys spinning on top of her head.

You jumped as wet hands touched your arms.

“Goddammit!”

Homelander laid his chin on your shoulder, his wet hair dampening your ear and neck. You tried turning but he kept you still, his long eyelashes clumped together and his gaze firmly placed on her.

He wrapped you in his hot embrace, the steam frizzing your hair.

“Sorry about Helena… you seem tired, John”

“I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to miss a single second… what if something happens?”

He ignores you, holding his entire weight against you.

“Nobody, it's going to come here and steal our baby… no doctor is going to put her in a cage… we are safe John…” You whisper, leaning forward to stroke your baby’s cheek– so what’s bugging you?”

“You think I’m going to be a good father?”

You laugh a little, trying your best to turn around but he wouldn’t let you budge out of his grip, you could feel a light tremble in his hand and knees, your words frightened him– his mind back in that awful room but now it wasn’t him sitting alone in the bare room, not him sitting squeezing at his blanket but his daughter and no matter how much he bashed the metal door there was not a single dent to be seen.

“A bit late to ask three kids in… I dunno that’s not for you to decide… no matter what we do now we cannot be certain of our choices until they grow up and let us know. All we can do is try our best– just try your best, and if you need help then that’s what I'm here for.”

“What if I fuck it up?” He whimpered into your shoulder.

“What if I fuck it up, too?”

He lets go of you, letting you catch a glimpse of his wet torso and the damp stain around his toes, he moved to pick her up only stopping himself as his wet hair stained her pink onesie.

“I know you have only been a dad for like– what 3 or 4 years when you got Ryan and with Helena not even 2… but you’re doing okay. A few things here and there that are questionable but I can’t say I can judge, I am always wondering if I am treating Helena the right way, or if I am not overstepping with Ryan… but you won’t because as much as I struggle with you… you do love Ryan… You love Helena and god you truly love Genevieve… just the way you looked at her… I don’t think I could ever believe that you could make such a face.”

“She’s so beautiful” He tears up, sobbing– I don’t think I've ever seen something so pretty before… like she shouldn't be mine…”

“John... oh she's just as pretty as you... as pretty as Helena was and am sure just as pretty as Ryan was” You let him cling to you, his sight glued on her as he cried.

He smiled, as her heartbeat flooded his senses, as he caught Ryan’s steady song above and Helena’s rapid rhytimns below.

This was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed, he looked up to face you, cleaning his tears with the back of his hand, trying not to be loud as the baby cooed awake, gargling and kicking her legs.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance… I won’t fuck it up… I won’t” His voice held back from sobbing– I’ll be better.”

“You better… otherwise I’ll be taking the house” You chuckle softly kissing his cheek.

He laughed awkwardly, making your cheeks blush as he stared at you with adulation written in his eyes. You've given him everything he’d ever wanted, he made a silent oath to give you everything in return, you just didn’t know it yet.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, you thought as you stared at that loving gaze, thinking that all the pain you endure would be returned with a mountain of blessings... after all that was what you had hoped for all those years ago.

“Thank you.” He whispered into your lips.

You smiled into his kiss thinking things were finally right for you... for you both.

taglist-- @immyowndefender @demodemo909 @ghqst-fqce @fromforeigntofamiliarity thank you all for reading this hope you can enjoy my future projects and will tag y'all for the epilogue too.

as a little treat here are the 5 songs that inspired this fic:

youtube

#personal #homelander #the boys #homelander fanfiction #homelander x reader #homelander x you #thank you for reading I hope y'all enjoy the epilogue #american royalty #my fic tag #Youtube

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theladyofdeath · 9 months

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Lady Death's Lover {II}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: I'm sorry I waited until, like, midnight to post this. As the school year approaches, I find myself in a constant state of panic and stress. Haha. Anyways, thank you for reading the prologue and chapter 1! I love seeing your feedback. This chapter is fairly light in the way of trigger warnings, but as always, know that this story contains the following. Thank you for reading! x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

Nesta

The gown I’m wearing cost more than what my sisters, father, and I spent in a year on clothing only a few years ago. It’s a stunning deep blue that brings out my eyes. The skirt is full and the bodice is laced in beads that sparkle when they hit the light. A braid crowns my head and the bruise has faded on my cheek enough that the powder covers it.

I wait in the foyer for Tomas who seems to be taking his sweet time. It takes a certain level of disrespect to keep someone waiting for an extended period of time, but it’s the least of the cruelties that my husband inflicts upon me.

Just when I’m ready to board the carriage alone, Tomas comes down the grand staircase dressed in his finest. He is handsome, only a few years older than myself. He’s wearing his full evening dress, and even I, who loathes him, has to admit that he looks fine in tails. I hate it, hate that he’s handsome, hate that I have to hang on his arm all evening instead of gracing the dance floor.

The carriage ride is silent. We sit on opposite benches, facing one another. We’ve nearly reached our destination by the time he speaks.

“How was your afternoon?”

His words are so sudden that it makes me jump. I clear my throat. “Fine, I suppose. I went to the dressmaker and had tea with Gwyn and Emerie.”

He cringes at the informal use of my closest friends’ names. I rarely see them and know that Tomas disapproves, even if he’s never said it outright. “Lovely, dear.”

I do not progress the conversation, I simply let it drop and stare out the window once more.

When the coach stops, we are sitting in front of a grand townhouse. It’s massive, larger than our own home in town. I’ve not been here before nor do I know the owner. It’s one of Tomas’ many business partners, the names of whom I don’t bother to memorize.

Nonetheless, the home we enter is beautiful. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen and I’m mesmerized as I cross the threshold.

Everything is black, but it is elegant. Among the dark interior, there are paintings of the night sky, murals on the ceiling of the famous starlight of Velaris. White roses are strung throughout the hall, the stark petals leading to the ballroom, where people are gathered and a string quartet plays.

“Beautiful,” I breathe, allowing myself to be dragged by Tomas.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” It’s clear he’s not paying attention to me, but right now I don’t mind. “Chin up. Back straight. Don’t speak unless you’ve been asked a direct question. Think wisely about your answers before you voice them.”

I don’t respond. A sudden, familiar emptiness fills my core.

We round the ballroom until we’re gathered with a herd of people I don’t know but Tomas seems to. My arm remains looped through his and I smile, completely charmed, as voices surround us. The conversation is nothing more than muddled noise that I ignore as my eyes scan my surroundings. I watch as gentlemen ask the young ladies of Velaris to dance. I watch as they take to the floor and follow the commonly known steps while the music plays jovially from the platform near the corner.

I envy them. I used to love to dance, used to come alive as the music played. Even now, I feel it in my bones while the quartet plays and I feel nothing but dread as I remain perfectly still, side by side with my husband. I don’t show it, though. The smile remains plastered on my face and I nod politely as each new person is introduced to me.

“Care for a smoke, Mandray?”

Tomas looks at me and frowns, but I smile politely. “Don’t worry about me, my dear. I’ll get a drink and stand with the other married ladies.”

He thinks for a minute, but then he nods and his arm slips from mine, giving me a sudden sense of freedom. I know he doesn't like leaving me alone in a room full of people but to decline an offer would speak of a weakness in both our marriage and his manhood, so he leaves me be.

True to my word, I walk toward the refreshments table and grab a filled champagne flute. The bubbles tickle going down my throat and I can’t help my foot as it begins to tap along with the tune.

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

I spin around, nearly flinging the fillings of my glass over the rim as I do so. A man stands behind me, tall and broad-shouldered, smiling kindly. His hair is long, which I find ridiculous, even if it’s pulled back neatly at the nape of his neck. He’s handsome, but not as a gentleman should be. He looks as if he should be working by the docks or in a lumber yard, perhaps in the mines. He looks more like a man that would live in my old village, not a member of high society.

“The music?” I ask, and he nods. “Yes. Beautiful.”

I turn away from him, back towards the quartet. I watch as they expertly handle their instruments.

“Would you care to dance?”

My back stiffens as I turn to face my intruder once more. “Pardon?”

“Dance?” he asks, and his hazel eyes are lit with humor. “You know…what they’re all doing out there. Having fun.”

Fun.

That was a word I haven’t heard in a long while, a word I haven’t felt. The offer is tempting and part of me wants to say yes, just to feel alive for a few minutes.

“I’m married,” I say, simply.

He stares at me. Blinks. “And?”

My brows, I swear, shoot up into my hairline. “And…that means I cannot dance with you.”

“Does it?” he asks, and a stupid, cocky little grin lifts the side of his mouth. “I don’t recall reading that in the rulebook.”

Knowing full well there isn’t a rule book, I feel my eyes narrow. “You, sir, are awfully inappropriate.”

“It is not inappropriate to ask a Lady to dance.”

“But it is to ask a married woman. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr…”

“Nazari. Lord Cassian—”

“Yes, well, thank you for the offer but I obviously must decline.” I hand my half-emptied glass to a passing server and go to step around Lord Cassian.

He steps in front of me. “I did not catch your name.”

“My name is not yours to know,” I say, and try to step around him yet again.

He follows me once more. “Please do not make me endure the rest of the night without us being properly introduced.”

I take a deep breath, trying my best to keep my cool. “Lady Mandray.”

That cocky smile of his fades, and he’s left staring at me looking completely unsettled. “You’re married to Tomas Mandray?”

“I am,” I say, the words feeling hollow as they leave me.

He nods and bows his head. “Very well. I apologize for the disruption of your evening. Enjoy the music.”

Before I can reply, he’s hurrying far away from me. It seems my husband has the same effect on strangers that he does on me.

His reaction makes me think a little better of the man I just met, as awful as that may seem.

I do not join the other married women. They don’t seem to like me all that much and I honestly don’t care for them. The conversations are meaningless and I don’t care to answer over and over again how soon we’ll be having children. I wish Emerie and Gwyn were here. Although they’re at some of the events that I’m dragged to, they rarely come to the balls. They are not married nor are they looking for husbands, claiming and content to be spinsters, but that is what drew me to them in the first place, their freedom even in society.

So I stand here, close to the refreshments even though I’ve given up my glass. I watch young gentlemen and ladies dance, watch as they smile and laugh and move freely to the music. And I can’t help when my eyes find Lord Cassian as he speaks with another young lady across the hall. His body is so relaxed, his smile so easy, and I loathe him for that.

Jealousy is a bitch and it’s all I seem to be feeling tonight. Jealousy, and loneliness.

…….

Cassian

“Would you like me to introduce you to Mandray?”

My smile falters and I clear my throat. “Of course. Eh, let’s hope that the fact that I tried to charm his wife doesn’t ruin his impression of me.”

Beside me, Azriel snorts. Rhysand’s lips form a tight line. “You hit on his wife?”

“I didn’t know she was his wife,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “I didn’t know she was anyone’s wife. I saw a pretty woman. I asked her to dance.”

Rhysand’s eyes narrow. “Why do I feel that wasn’t the end of the conversation?”

I sip from my champagne.

Pretty isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe Lady Mandray, but I can’t tell my brothers that she is, by far, the most terrifyingly beautiful woman I have ever crossed paths with. Traditional beauty had been thrown out the window and replaced with a cold, intricate beauty that was unknown to society and the world beyond. The type of beauty that was Lady Mandray could not be replicated. No, I wouldn’t tell them that. That would be inappropriate and although I love the inappropriate most of the time, being inappropriate with the man I’m attempting to invest with to boost my fortune seems to be crossing a line.

“Well, let’s hope his wife remains quiet and no one overheard,” Rhysand says, shaking his head. “It would be just like you to cause a scandal at my event, of all places.”

“No scandal, just a misunderstanding,” I assure him. At least, I try to. The look in his eye tells me to watch myself for the remainder of the evening. I try not to let that piss me off as I take another drink.

Just as I’m about to ask Rhys to make the introduction, I see a familiar face out of the corner of my eye and a slow smile spreads across my lips. There’s someone I could have fun with and cause no scandal.

None that hasn’t been spread before, anyway.

“One dance, then I’ll meet Mandray.” I’m moving before the words are out of my mouth. I move around the outskirts of the dancefloor, tossing my drink aside on the way, until I’m stopping behind a long-legged blonde in a red dress.

I bow. “Miss Morrigan.”

She’s turning, eyes narrowed, before I stand back at full height. “I swear, every time you call me that it makes me hate you just a little bit more.”

“You don’t hate me.” I grin. “If you hated me, you wouldn’t accept the dance I’m about to offer you and we both know that you can’t say no to a dance with me.”

With a roll of her eyes, she takes my outstretched hand and we join the other dancers as a quadrille begins. It’s not the best dance for conversation but we seem to carry one anyway without caring about those around us.

“You’re late,” I say, as the music becomes lively. “I didn’t think you were going to show.”

“Missed me?” she asks with a wink. “You missed tea this past Monday. Maybe I was angry with you.”

We come together and spin around as I ask, “No, I just figured you were holed up with someone you weren’t supposed to be again.”

Her eyes grow bright as we part and the softest shade of pink tinges her cheeks. She looks around to make sure those closest to us didn’t hear, but I know they didn’t. It takes a few seconds for us to come back together, but when she does she says, “No, that was last weekend. Tonight I just felt like arriving late so that everyone would have to look at me as I entered.”

It worked. It always did. Mor was stunning, beautiful to everyone who looked her way. She took my virginity, and I took hers, when we were teenagers. It was awkward and horrible and I lasted no more than twenty seconds. It took her a long time to convince me that such a horribly awkward experience wasn’t what opened her eyes to realizing that she didn’t like men at all in such a way — a fact that only a few of us know and keep secret in her honor. Me, Azriel, Rhys, our friend Amren. We’ll keep that secret until we no longer walk this earth.

But, it’s nice to know that she finds someone to spend her time with every now and then. I want to ask about the mystery woman that she spent the weekend with, but it’ll have to wait until Monday’s tea time.

The dance ends a minute later and we all take our bow, then I’m sweeping her to where Rhysand and Azriel are in deep conversation with a group of young ladies. Mor’s arm loops through mine when I see her.

Lady Mandray is watching me, and I can tell she’s pissed that I caught her. I offer her a smile, but maybe it comes off a bit too cocky because her pursed lips seem to amplify. She quickly turns on her heels and exits the room, which leaves me confused and strangely aroused.

Mor catches me looking and leans in closer. “And who is that?”

“The wife of Lord Tomas Mandray,” I answer, my smile fading. “Met earlier tonight. We didn’t hit it off.”

Mor gasps, patting my arm. “Lord Cassian Nazari didn’t instantly sweep a woman off her feet? My, my. You must be getting old.”

I shoot her a look that makes her grin widen, but we say nothing more as we reach our destination. I fall into the chaos that consists of the ladies of Velaris desperately wanting to charm a man into becoming their husbands until we politely dismiss ourselves to find Lord Mandray.

We find him in a smoke-filled room full of gentlemen and Rhysand makes the introduction. We talk for no more than two minutes before he’s called away, apparently a much sought after man of high society.

After those two minutes, I deduce two things.

One: investing with him will make me more money in a month than all my tenants combined make me in a year.

Two: I would hate to be the woman married to that asshole.

#nessian #nesta #cassian #nesta archeron #cassian x nesta #nesta x cassian #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #period au #19th century au

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bellafragolina · 2 years

Note

So, how would the big Galar three (Raihan, Leon and Peirs) react to thier S/O being in hospital after being attacked by a wild pokemon? headcanons or drabbles is fine with me >:3

>:3c anon I feel like you and I may share the same braincell because this shit gets me GOING

🍓🍓🍓

Leon:

He hears about it through one of his assistants, racing in and stuttering about how you were found wounded in the Wild Area, no doubt attacked by some large Pokémon. Leon heard “you” and “hospital” and bolts out of the Battle Tower, tearing ass to the nearest Corvinight Taxi. He thinks running would be faster, but he won’t risk getting lost with you on the line

He arrives at the hospital and abuses his Chairman status a little to be allowed into your room even though he’s not family. You’re banged up, bandaged thoroughly, and Leon can hardly stand to look at you. So he sits down, and takes your hand, whispering apologies to you as you sleep off your meds

He blames himself. He’s always so busy with the Battle Tower that you don’t spend as much time together as either of you would prefer. He blames himself for you going alone, and blames himself for not being there to protect you.

When you finally open your eyes and see him, the first thing out of his mouth is “I love you” followed by “I’m so sorry” You’re confused, drugged up and in pain, so you don’t understand why he’s apologizing. When he tells you he’s responsible for this happening, you chew him out thoroughly (as best you can in your state) It’s not his fault. You ain’t gonna hear it. Now cuddle me, dammit

Leon waits on you hand and foot as you recover. He takes time off the Battle Tower to ensure you’re not alone, staying throughout the worst of your healing injuries. He has to be convinced he can go back after you start to become a little more independent. Y’all have friends that can stay with you, go away. Do your job. Save the world. He smiles at you, and feels even less inclined to leave when he realizes he’ll be away from your loving sass. Then you call him a dorky chairman, and he’s okay to go (/j)

He loves you a lot

Raihan:

He sees the posts about your accident before anyone can tell him about it. His Rotom phone alerts him the second it detects your name being used alongside “heavily injured” and “Pokémon attack” Raihan races out of his gym after seeing a photo of you heavily bandaged, blood seeping through. His heart is in his throat as he races towards the hospital you’ll be staring at. It doesn’t take long to get there with his long legs

He begs the receptionist to let him see you, but you’re still in surgery, so he has to wait. He sits in the waiting room, in chairs a little too small for him, and bounces his leg as he watches the time and checks his phone for more information about what happened to you. There’s plenty of speculation and some reports that you’re already dead, but nothing is proven. He sets his phone aside, instead answering texts from worried friends about you and him. He tells them your condition and where he is, and everyone starts towards the hospital you’re at to offer support

When he’s allowed back in your room, he’s kissing on your face, cringing at the taste of hospital disinfectants, but not stopping. He whispers to you that he’s sorry he wasn’t there with you, begs you to wake up. And when you do, you get to see his bread grin, as well as all of his friends hovering in the doorway, arms full of get-well-soon gifts. It’s a fun time, even if you are down and out

Once you’re released, Raihan takes over as being your personal nurse. He gets you what you need, but mostly lays in bed with you, keeping you company as you both show each other funny things you find on the internet. He wants you to feel safe again, so he does what he can to make things seem normal

You both get nightmares from this experience. Raihan’s are about losing you, and yours are about you or the people you love getting attacked, so you both comfort each other through the night best you can. It’s a steady incline towards recovery, but together you both can do anything

Piers:

He hears the news right before he’s supposed to go on stage. He had been wondering where you were, since you were supposed to be attending his concert, when someone runs up and shows him the media feed about your accident. Piers abandons the concert and races to the hospital you’re staying at, guilt curling up in his chest

You were coming to see him, and you got attacked. Piers heavily blames himself for your injuries, and seeing you hurt nearly knocks him to the floor. He sits next to your bed, gingerly picks up your hand, and presses a kiss to all the bandages he can reach. Then, he kisses your face, whispering apologies as he goes

You wake up to him doing this. When you ask him what’s the matter, don’t you have a concert today rockstar?, he starts to cry and apologize. You blearily try to comfort the singer, drugged out of your mind and with a mostly numbed body. Piers gets his emotions under control so you don’t hurt yourself, but despite your slurred reassurances, he still feels guilty

This shines through once you’re released. He’s constantly fretting over you and your injuries. He’s bringing you things you don’t even need, like what are you going to do with a Rubik’s Cube? One of your hands is in a cast? Luckily, Marnie shines through and helps knock some sense into her brother. You three have a long chat about his feelings of guilt and responsibility for your current state, and you help reassure him it was an accident. No one is at fault. God, he loves and appreciates you

He sings for you constantly. You’re getting you’re own personal concert every day of your recovery. He sings you your favorite songs of his and of other artists, though he snarks about the latter a bit, just to make you laugh. On nights when the pain keeps you from sleeping, he lies with you, singing soft lullabies as you drift off against his chest, right over his heart. It beats for you

🍓🍓🍓

*rubs my little hands together* heheheh! Anyway, hope you enjoyed, love! Have a great day!

~Renee

#leon x reader #champion leon x reader #raihan x reader #piers x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader

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iheartyouyou · 2 years

Text

Haunted Houses | Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie is totally not scared of Haunted Houses.

Word count: 780

Warnings: Fake blood? Clowns? Fake Knives? Idk

Authors note: Just a quick blurb I wrote! Sorry I haven’t been posting as much, I’ve been busy and just haven’t been feeling very motivated. I have been working on older requests and the next chapter of Outloud so be ready for those :) Also, feel free to send in any requests for Halloween/fall or just normal requests, I’m trying to get back to writing! (P.S. Not proofread, so bear my mistakes)

Eddie nudged your forward, grinning at your stubbornness.

“I’m not going first.” You mumbled, making your way behind Eddie to nudge him forward. He steps into the puddle of fake blood that was in front of the dark, spooky house, cringing. “I’m not either!”

“Well then… we can just stay here then.” You suggest, staring at the lights flickering from the inside of the house.

“No way!” Eddie complained. “I paid 20 dollars for this, that would just be wasting money.”

Hawkins held a Haunted House yearly, Nancy and Jonathan helped out with it this year and they suggested that you guys go. You guys were just planning to rent a few horror movies and buy a whole bunch of candy and spend the rest of the night cuddling and what not. But, on the way to the candy store, Eddie spotted the Haunted House and decided to stop.

It’s not that scary. He told you, wrapping his arm around you as he handed the lady at the front 20 dollars.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. You’ve always heard about how scary the Haunted House was from students at school, people saying it traumatized them. You highly doubted it, but still.

“You’re the guy. You should go first.” You defended.

“And you’re the lady. Ladies first.” He spoke, motioning towards the house with his hands.

“Fine.” You huffed, skipping over the puddle of fake blood. He follows behind, curling his finger into the belt loop on the back of your jeans so he won’t lose you.

Making your way up the doors, you enter the house preparing yourself for a jumpscare. There was nothing— just flickering lights and clown laughter, followed by a pathway.

You couldn’t really see anything, too dark to make out any of the decorations. You could see some fake cobwebs, well you hoped they were fake. There was fake blood splattered on the walls and the word “HELP” written in the blood.

The door suddenly slammed shutbehind you, making the two of you jump as Eddie pulled you closer. “Are you scared?” You whispered, trying to cover up the fact that you were the one scared.

“N-no. You?”

“No.”

You hesitantly took a few steps forward, entering the hallway and letting out a small screech as a clown popped out with a fake knife. Another clown followed, this time with two knifes. They both circled you and Eddie, their laughter echoing throughout the house. Eddie laughed with them, uncurling his finger from your belt loop.

“This isn’t even scary. I’ll go first.” He said confidently, pushing you behind him and grabbing your hand as he bravely traveled through the hallway. More clowns popped out, but he was just getting a kick out of your reaction.

It wasn’t until he felt a dull claw move up and down his shoulder, Eddie just scoffed thinking it was you but when he turned around, you weren’t there. It was a very realistic Freddy Krueger instead that appeared behind him, his razor-claw hand reaching out to grab Eddie. Eddie yelped, making his way outside the Haunted House as fast as he could— his heart beating in his ears. He ignored all the scary people that popped out, escaping the Haunted House and gasping.

“What the hell—“ You burst out into a fit of laughter, watching as Eddie’s horrified facial expression turn into a very annoyed one at your figure. You hold your stomach, throwing your head back, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Oh… my… god!” You pointed at Eddie, his pale face going back to it’s normal color. He lightly slapped your hand away, readjusting himself.

“H-how’d you get out here?” He asked, catching his breath as he clutched his chest. He looked back at the house, squinting at all the people coming out with either horrified or terrified looks on their faces.

“Nancy told me about this shortcut that lead outside.” You spoke, pointing to the door that you could barely see by the bushes. “What happened to you?”

“What? Nothing. Wasn’t even scary.” He lied, fixing his hair. “Let’s just get some candy and go home. Maybe we can watch Thirteen Candles or Pretty in Pink?”

“Pretty in Pink? Thirteen Candles? Why would you want to watch those, isn’t it Halloween? Didn’t we rent Nightmare on El—“

“No! No Freddy Krueger.” He exasperated, shaking his head as he looked back at the house.

“Nightmare on Elm Street.” You corrected him, intertwining your guys’ hands as you dragged him to his van.

“I don’t care what it’s called! No Freddy Krueger!”

“Okay, fine. Thirteen Candles it is.” You smirked, “Or we can watch your buddy, Freddy Krueger—“

“No!”

#eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #st4 #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things season 4 #imagines #halloween

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beevean · 3 months

Note

Yeah, I'm not gonna deny that old ship wars did involve threats, telling other people to kill themselves, etc. But now they do all that and also make it a moral issue

There are many theories that attempt to explain why there's been a sudden shift in mentality on the internet, but for now, the easiest one IMO is that nowadays content is thrown in your face thanks to social media and algoritm.

When I was little, I had to look up ship material. I had to look up porn. I had to stumble upon specific pages like Kink Memes. The worst that could happen was that I browsed the gallery of an artist I liked, and found that they shipped Sonegg :P <- true story

Point is, "don't like don't read" (or see) was the motto for a reason, because it was possible.

Now? Now I see on Twitter how finely attuned the algoritm is to pushing on you the worst material. It's not uncommon that it recommends me posts of people QTing posts about how rapeable Tails and Cream are, and putting their own disgusted comments on them. Which, okay but maybe don't show me that, I'm not interested, I don't follow anyone here. You're making me see content I didn't ask for, and engage with people I want nothing with.

So, first of all, it has become harder to filter content you don't like. Then there is the whittling down of privacy (dash did a thing lol). Again, as a kid, I was more or less allowed to do what I wanted on the internet, including finding "problematic" content (helped also by the language barrier: I learned English very quickly, and my parents did not :P). I can't imagine how it would have been if my parents monitored every place I visited. Of course I'd feel ashamed if I had to restrain myself like that, knowing that my parents would deem me "abnormal" (more than it already happened).

But that's not even the biggest issue. There has been enough talk about how back then, fandom was niche, it was for the freaks, nerds were bullied, girls would be mocked to hell and back for shipping (they still are, as long as you put "straight" and/or "white" lol, but back then you didn't even need to pretend 🙃). Now, again thanks to social media, fandom has become normalized. Much more people are on the internet, and much more people engage in fandom content. And they find the weird shit. And they become the bullies themselves.

The Sonic fandom 20 years ago was a target of mockery for attracting autistic furries, you know, the typical jokes that we all wanted to fuck Big. The Sonic fandom didn't care, and between one discourse about Sonic's eyes and the other, they had fun shipping all the things and being cringe in their corner. Now it has become less socially acceptable to mock autistic furries :P but "normal" people have infiltrated the fandom, and they are demanding normalcy, which results in absurd things like wishing death on Shadria shippers because eww human and anthro or THEY'RE SIBLINGS YOUR HONOR

... now, if you ask me why people (sadly not just teens) nowadays have convinced themselves that fiction is reality, I don't fully know. I do believe in the theory that radical feminism has managed to seep into the fandom and leave some of its core tenets engrained into everyone, even the people who say "punch terfs" or that radfems would despise, such as "engaging in sexual content makes you a deviant", "kinks fetishize my trauma and you're retraumatizing yourself if you indulge in them", and the idea that half of the population is pure and can do no wrong while the other is inherently corrupted and not human...

#this has turned into a ramble lol #fandom

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oyesmendes · 2 years

Text

are you happy now?

a/n: toxic reader, toxic pierre, contemplating a part two AHAHHA let me know if you enjoyed this one!

masterlist here!! | part two here

"are you sure about this?" george stood in front of you with his arms folded. you smiled and straightened the dress you had on,

"of course i'm sure."

"but what about-"

you cut him off before he could continue, "it's your home race, gorgeous. there's no place i'd rather tell the world you're mine."

"well if you put it like that," george outstretched his hand which you grabbed happily, "let's go."

it was safe to say that silverstone received the both of you with open arms. all the fans shouting and whistling as you both walked from the car to the paddock, hand in hand. it was overwhelming to be very honest, but you definitely could not stop grinning from ear to ear.

george stopped for a couple of people once you both entered the paddock while you walked ahead for a bit, stopping soon after to wait for him. you made small waves to the individuals you were familiar with, until one voice made you cringe.

"george huh? who's next in the paddock?" you turn to see pierre, a fake smile plastered on his face for the cameras, his sunglasses still covering his eyes. to the media, this would look like ex-flames reuniting for a short chat, but you knew it was more than that. you knew it was his attempt at making small, insulting digs at you. were you going to let him do it though? absolutely not.

you roll your eyes at the frenchman, "unfortunately for you, i'm still not the whore you think i am."

pierre seemed to be unfazed by your words as he moved closer beside you, voice low so the numerous microphones don't pick up his words, "but the last time i remembered, you loved being a little slut for me."

your eyes widened at his words. you couldn't believe how belligerent he was acting out in public. sure you had an ugly, sad breakup, but was this really necessary?

before you opened your mouth to say something back, george was already by your side, arm snaked around your waist. he greeted pierre with a handshake and side hug, pretending to be completely oblivious to the tension in the air.

"what's up mate?"

"oh nothing much, just saying hello to your missus here." he gave you a sick grin, and you smiled back - just for the cameras.

the interaction didn't last any longer, with both you and george making a short walk to the mercedes building. he had intertwined his fingers with yours as you walked in, greeting various team members.

"you alright?" george asked as you both waited for your coffees.

"mmhm, i'm good."

he hugged you from behind, resting his head on top of yours, "sorry about earlier, shouldn't have left you alone for so long."

you spun to face him, hands resting on his waist, "i'm fine, georgie. i can handle a little bit of pierre."

"i know," he takes both coffee cups, leading you to his driver's room, "i just didn't like that he could get so close to you."

you sigh, following the brit up the stairs. you understand where he was coming from, especially since george witnessed firsthand the catastrophe of yours and pierre's breakup.

the end of that chapter couldn't have been more dramatic. when practically the entire world knew about you and him; and neither of you were ashamed about it. from throwing snarky remarks during his interviews, to shading each other on social media platforms, nobody could piece together how such a happy couple turned out so bitter after two years. and to be honest, you couldn't figure it out either, how those nasty words and bullets shot out from either of you. it was almost as if a switched turned the both of you against each other, from lovers to enemies.

but that didn't mean that you stopped caring. you still looked out for him, still watched as his name travelled up and down the rankings; still watched his stories and instagram posts of lake como.

still loved him.

you just did it from afar, from the arms of another man.

the start of silverstone pretty much happened in a blur. george's car getting a good start and into turn one, you were at the edge of your seat. until you saw multiple cars sandwiched, and a certain alfa romeo spinning off course. your breath hitched.

an eerie silence enveloped the garage. no one had seen such an ugly crash since 2019. the cameras panned to a mercedes that had stopped in the middle of the track.

"george..." you mutter under your breath, watching as the replay showed your boyfriend running across the gravel to the alfa romeo. you shook your head, watching the screens for any sign or news about the drivers. but the clip replayed pierre's radio about being sandwiched and you could only think of the worst.

"i was sandwiched- i- i had no where to go." your heart squeezed at the sound of his worried voice.

toto had now let you into the pitlane, allowing you to watch as the cars started rolling in. the mercedes had been towed back, but your boyfriend was no where to be seen. you knew he was okay, judging from the recent radio messages, so you continued to watch as mechanics worked on the cars lining up in the pit lane.

then you hear his voice, turning your attention to the commotion at the end of the pit lane. george was having a go at reading the rule book to the stewards.

you didn't know how to react. on one hand you were relieved to see your boyfriend, but something else was occupying your mind.

the blue and white race suit. the french flag.

the replay shown that he had gotten sandwiched between two cars, causing one of the collisions out there. you could tell he was shaken up, worried about his friends; you watched him speak to pyry in the pitlane, a slight tremor of his hand that he was trying so hard to stop. it took everything in you to not rush by his side and squeeze his hand.

george had now returned to the garage, his attempt at getting back into the race had been rejected by the FIA. you comforted him quietly, arm wrapped around his torso as he spoke to his race engineer. you knew you should have focused on your boyfriend, but your gaze travelled to pierre, who was now sitting on some steps, sipping on his drink.

its almost as if he felt your gaze, when he turned and his eyes met yours. you smiled softly - a look that he had gotten so used to over the course of your relationship. you nodded, and he did the same.

word got back after ten minutes - both alex and guanyu were conscious, with minimal injuries; allowing everybody including yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.

the rest of the race went by, particularly uneventful for your boyfriend, but spirits were high as lewis clinched a podium. you stood outside the hospitality building, waiting for george as he bid his goodbyes when you heard the all too familiar accent.

"ch��rie..." you turn to see pierre stood behind you, a small hopeful look in his eyes.

"can we talk?" he asks. you look at the doors to the mercedes hospitality building, then back at pierre, and you nod. he leads you somewhere quieter, away from prying eyes. you wave to a couple of engineers, and finally settle in a small alleyway between two motor homes.

pierre clears his throat, "thank you for earlier."

you look at him slightly confused.

"the smile, the nod. it meant something to me."

"oh- yeah, no it was no big deal."

"it was to me." you decide not to protest, just nodding.

"i'm sorry about earlier," he apologises, and you could tell, from the way his blue eyes pierced yours- that he was being sincere.

"it's okay, we all have our moments."

silence falls between the both of you.

"are you happy now?" the question came as a surprise to you, and it must have shown on your face.

"i-" you look over to george who had just come out of the hospitality building, darting his head around searching for you. but you look back to pierre, and oh- your pierre, the one you knew from the very beginning, the one you could never let go, and answered honestly,

"i am, but i was happier with you." pierre was shocked by your words, but he couldn't hide the subtle happiness he felt. and you could tell, from the way the corner of his lips curled upwards.

the excitement didn't last long though.

"there you are!" george kisses the top of your head, pulling you towards him.

"ready to go?" you smile sweetly at your boyfriend, nodding at pierre, who looked as if the wind had been knocked straight out of his lungs.

i am happy, but i was happier with you.

taglist: @primadonnasdream @dr3lover @chicadelapartamento512-blog @thebagginsofbaggend @starlightoctavia @d0ntjudgemy50shades @cowspew @justthatgirlxox @ggaslyp1 @fromthedeskofjoii @lorenakaspersen @words-4u @o0itsjustme0o @ambrosialilly @totowolfff @gulsolsikke @enjoymyloves @rmaddens @care2703 @katcontrreras @tattered-tales @luvrboygaslys @piceous21 @shristi-jaluka @kyomihann @sgkophie @jpotterdilf @guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy @idkiwantchocolatee @monte-carlando @bigdiccricc @organasith @anthonykatebridgerton @icecoldtires

#formula 1 fic #formula1 #formula one x reader #george russell x reader #george russell #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader

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yukinarinn · 1 year

Text

“Pleasurable Vulnerability”

Myumu x Dom!Byakuya Togami

Heya, btw, I don’t take requests with ocs here. It’s another commission request by Zir this time, on Amino since there I made a writing commission post. It’s been like almost a month (3 months now) since she requested it and I’m so sorry for letting you wait so long dear! I hope you like it, I don’t know if it’s that good, though. Please tell me if you want me to change anything! 💕

Since I’m done with those commissions, I’m ready to take care of the requests from Tumblr!

The second art is Myumu by Zir, she’s so talented!!

Also this is an update, I’ve NOW finished this and all I have to say is that I think it’s just cringe. I should’ve written this earlier but now it turned out like this so please if you’re cringing, I’m sorry!!

cw: praising, degradation, breeding kink, mentions of pr3gnancy, dom!byakuya, sub!myumu, THH bad ending

The final class trial has came to an end, Kyoko was executed, and Makoto was devastated while Junko forced the remaining students to live in the Hope’s Peak Academy, forever. And there was nothing they can do.

Days had passed since the final class trial, most of them were spending their times alone, in their own room. Aoi only came to the dining hall to eat breakfast and donuts, Yasuhiro tried to get everyone’s attention and have a chat, but the students weren’t in the mood for that, Makoto is still thinking of an escape, Toko is spending the whole day in her room, sometimes stalking Byakuya, and Byakuya is ignoring everyone, obviously, a specific someone is an exception.

And that someone is… Myumu! his best friend and the closest friend he even had, she, instead, was talking to everyone! Excepting Toko, Toko is obsessively talking about Byakuya all the time and something just snaps inside Myumu for some reason.

The pink-haired girl is in the library, reading a book, together with Makoto since he wanted some company. He kept looking at her instead of reading his book, and Myumu noticed, looking straight into his eyes and chuckled.

“Aww, is there something wrong, Makoto?” She asked him, smiling as he starts blushing.

But before even answering to her question, someone gently touched Myumu’s shoulder which made her look behind, and she faced Byakuya, who looked a bit upset and confused. Though, he tried to hide his emotions.

Byakuya was looking at Makoto with so much disgust meanwhile the poor boy was confused about what’s happening and why he gives this look to him.

“Um, I will leave now. Seems like Togami doesn’t want me around.. See you later, Myumu!”

“No! It’s fine, he’s ju-“

“Let him leave. Actually, he can stay here, I do have some.. business with you anyway.”

Myumu gave him a confused look, not knowing what to say at this point. Byakuya was closer to her, but he never asked for anything nor wanting to talk to her more privately.

“Umm, sure! right now?” She asks, giving him one of her innocent smiles.

The blonde guy touches her cheek gently, his mouth forming a smirk but this smirk disappeared as soon as he started speaking.

“Of course, you need to come with me now. I do noticed something weird, and that’s why I want to make sure I’m right.”

Myumu nodded and followed him, she didn’t even have time to say goodbye to Makoto since Byakuya grabbed her hand and “forced” her to come with him. Looks like the bussines he’s talking about will be discussed in his own room.

He opens the door, making sure that Myumu is the first one entering his room, he may be rude and ignorant to others, but he’s actually a gentleman with the people he truly cares.

He slowly locks the door while she looks around.

“You know, I’m pretty confused. So the business you were talking about will be discussed in your room?”

He sighs.

“First, take a seat on the bed and make yourself comfortable here” He says, sitting right next to her. “You know I’m not here to play games so I’ll just be straight forward to you, but, could you really answer my question without lying to me?”

Myumu looked down, basically knowing what was he going to ask. She could be honest, but she doesn’t know what his answer will be. But.. she has nothing to lose, she has to be honest to him. If her feelings aren’t reciprocated, at least she tried. But what if they are…?

“No, I’ll be honest, you don’t need to worry. Go ahead!” She smiles.

Byakuya always melted when she was smiling like that, but never admited it.

“Do you have feelings for me? If so, for how long?”

He suddenly got even more closer to her after asking this which made her blush and embarrased. But still, she had to answer his question.

“I-I do, for a very long time actually. But I thought other people’s feelings don’t matter to you. Toko likes you too, right? But you always pushed her away.”

He smiles and touches her chin with his index finger, making her to look at him.

“Toko isn’t even my type. It’s true that I don’t care about others that much, but you’re my best friend, I mean you were. Because I wanna show you how much I adore and love you.”

Myumu stared at the boy she loved so much, not able to say another word. She was just staring.. waiting for him to say something more.

“I know that’s pretty surprising and even confusing for you. And I’m not really that type of guy who just confesses his love to someone, that’s why I want to show you. Can I?” He asks, already unbuttoning his suit.

Myumu was out of words but she was still able to smile, that was a confession. A confession that she was waiting for so long.

“W-what do you mean by that?”

Byakuya smirks and touches her thigh.

“You’re so innocent, let me change that.”

With that said, he pushes her onto the bed, getting on top of her and taking his glasses off, putting them on the table right next to them both. Byakuya was staring at his incredibly adorable face she has, she didn’t expect him to push her like that, which made her squeak a bit. They didn’t say a thing, they were so busy looking into each other’s eyes.

He was obviously the one in charge so he took the lead, starting with his expensive suit, slowly taking it off. Myumu didn’t say a word, but she wanted what he wanted, just by looking at those innocent and pure eyes of hers. His clothes were on the ground now and he let his skinny yet muscular body in sight so she can take a good look at this beautiful view.

Byakuya, once he saw her all flustered and blushing, gets closer to her ear, biting the lobe of it gently and whispers which sent vibrations to her spine and, well, her whole body.

“Do you like what you see? how about you help me taking off those cute clothes of yours?” He says in a dominant tone, but he still asked for consent as he didn’t want to hurt her or cause any misunderstandings. This moment should be important for the both of them.

Myumu let out a soft moan as soon as she felt his teeth touching her ear lobe and biting afterwards. But she nods.

“Yes.. please.. let’s take them off-“

He smirks as he squeezes her thigh a bit. He was already excited and words couldn’t describe how happy he also was that now she’s under him, waiting to be dominated and loved.

He gladly took off everything she had on her and now that Myumu’s skin is fully revealed to him, things are getting interesting. He placed many kisses on her flesh, making her squirm.

He looked down at her.

“What was that noise? do you like it?~” Byakuya teased her and kept going. Touching every part of her body and biting her neck gently. Myumu still let out moans without saying anything and that’s because everything was perfect at the moment. She forgot where she was and what happened in this place, now that Byakuya is so close to her.

He chuckled, seeing her like that and then he grabbed a condom from the table, rolling it on his dick. She was watching him, speechless.

“I just love how you’re so quiet even though I’m so ready to fuck my kids into you. I guess that’s how a slut usually behaves?” As he chuckles, he put it right at the entrance, still looking for her consent. “Tell me. Tell me you also want it”

“Byakuya.. I will give myself to you.. since I love you so much~” She told him and spreading her legs wide more.

Byakuya nods and he slowly pushes it inside, letting out a groan before kissing her. He stayed like that for a while so she can adjust with his size and then he began thrusting into her, wraping his hands around her neck.

He was of course enjoying this, and Myumu too. He could tell that only by looking at his pretty face, moaning out loud and screaming his name pathetically to keep going and finish her off.

He was going deeper and faster as he was close to climax. He pulled her closer to him.

“Tell me where you want me to cum, princess”

“I-Inside!” She moaned loud once again, wraping her legs around his waist as she was close too.

Her walls squeezed which made him cum instantly, painting her walls with white.

After a few seconds, he was laying right next to her, cuddling together.

“You’ll be a great mother, Myumu. I love you so much.” He said, kissing her cheek.

She blushes and hugs him tightly.

“I.. I love you too!”

#danganronpa #fem reader #trigger happy havoc #byakuya togami #ocs #danganronpa oc #danganronpa smut #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #dr thh #thh #danganronpa thh #oneshot

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tumb1r-revival-initiative · 1 year

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Why Tumblr Should Be Revived

1. The staff is not nearly as strict about porn as before. They got rid of the failed algorithm that attempted to detect skin on posts. This was the biggest driving factor to the migration. Artists can now thrive on here once again without having their posts flagged as porn when they’re not.

2. There are also many porn blogs on here still because as I previously mentioned, staff isn’t as strict as they used to be. You can potentially view and own a porn blog on here as long as you are careful. At the very least, it can have suggestive pictures and explicit text posts. There are millions of those on here.

3. This community was like no other. This was the only social media where the neurodivergent, the LGBTQ, the furries, the “cringe” people, where ALL social outcasts found a home. People came here and realized there were many others out there just like them. Tumblr is the home to aesthetics and fandom and has a sense of community you can’t find elsewhere. Tumblr has always been meant for niche interests, many of which have been born from here. It’s fun to be a part of that. There’s a reason why a lot of people don’t like Twitter anymore: it’s because it’s mainly populated by former Tumblr users. Ever since the migration, people have been complaining about hating sensitive Twitter users. Niche community members went somewhere they weren’t really welcomed. This is fine because social media is for everyone, but wasn’t it so fun to have a place where the niche and different thrived? It felt special.

4. Twitter is going down in flames. It’s no secret that Twitter’s website has started to worsen ever since Elon has taken ownership. Twitter already doesn’t let you curate your dashboard as much as it should, since you’re seeing what other people like, but not what you like. It guarantees that you will see content you don’t want to more than you would on a social media like Tumblr where filtering content is so much easier. This is why it’s much easier to avoid discourse on Tumblr if you choose to do so. Also, no one on Twitter uses tags due to the short character count on a tweet, resulting in lots of unfiltered content coming your way. Yes you can mute words, but you definitely already have or will see art or other imagery you don’t want to see due to short and irrelevant captions. Additionally, Twitter is no longer being moderated by anybody. Elon Musk has fired the majority of the staff that regulates content violating Twitter’s rules. Reporting on Twitter essentially does almost nothing at this point. Apart from that, you have the option to remove ads on Tumblr, the checkmarks here are more colorful, you can have several blogs all under one email, and if all that isn’t convincing enough, you can at least leave Twitter as a “fuck you” to Elon if that’s more your style.

5. Tumblr as a website and app have both improved. Not only did they get rid of the porn-detection algorithm, but they also provided us with many more options to customize our dashboards. The app is significantly less buggy as well. And now you can choose from a set of a couple colored themes in settings for when you’re browsing the dashboard and search.

6. The amount of personalization you can have with your dashboard and blog is unlike any other website. It’s only improved but even before it was one of the key features that has made Tumblr different.

7. Tumblr is less stressful than other social medias. Due to how good the content filtering is, we can avoid a lot of unwanted content. Less discourse, less triggering, less negativity. You don’t have the other common social media pressures of following a certain amount of people because it’s common to hide that information here, along with the amount of followers you have. That means anyone here can be “Tumblr famous.” Blocking is also frowned upon on most social medias, but it’s pretty commonplace on Tumblr. Block everybody if you want to, even me.

Thank you for reading. My next post will be what we can do to revive Tumblr. In the meantime, please follow, like, share, comment, and reblog.

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arianimates · 8 months

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My Team Sky/Nightsky Headcanons

Disclaimer: I am bad at thinking of headcanons, so sorry if these aren't interesting or something (Also sorry if these are cringe lmao) Note: Nightsky Mikey is called Nikey (yes I was inspired by @mewintheflesh-2 's nickname for him) and Team Sky Mikey is called Mikie (like Archie and Maxie and I was inspired by @high-qualitymoron with that) - Nikey got inspired to make a time machine after getting yoinked through a cosmic butthole to Hisui - The Iron Jugulis Nikey has was programmed to follow orders without question, but in the final battle it started to doubt its leader after seeing what Nikey could have been - At first Maxie and Archie thought Mikie was nothing more than a nuisance but after seeing what Mikie/ Nikey was capable of they just went "oh shit"

There are no admins in Team Nightsky as Nikey does want anyone else having enough power to betray him

Some of the grunts in Team Nightsky only are in it because they believe that as long as they follow orders, they'll get the sun they desire

(did a bit of research for dis one) so since there's a dark cloud smog thing covering the entire earth you bet it's gonna get cold real quick, so there's plenty of fire Pokemon that are used in the Resistance that help with the cold

Volcarona is seen as a beacon of hope and there's people in the Resistance who see it as a Sun replacement

When Nikey first took over and covered the earth with smog, many people were unsure and skeptical, believeing that is was just some thing that would go away and everything would be fine (yeah it wasn't)

Nikey's eyepatched eye has a mark on it as a punishment from Arkoos (also Arkoos hates his guts lmao)

While canonically Mikie was chill after the final Team Nightsky battle, in my version he was freaking out afterwards that he fought his supposed future self and won Ok that should be all of em I have so far. If I think of new ones I'll make a new post

#team sky #team nightsky headcanons #team nightsky #mandjtv #pokemon #sky mikeys #nikey

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orions-hole · 5 months

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Warning: THIS IS A VENT

I wanna scream. I don't know why but I constantly feel on the verge of screaming.

Out of excitement, frustration, anger, fear, anxiety, madness. But I just feel like I *must* scream.

But I always stop myself, "I'll look crazy", "They'll say I'm exaggerating", "I don't even have a reasoning", "It's disrespectful", "This is not a place to scream", and each time. The impulse lows larger.

I wanna tell someone but something tears at me inside that if anyone knows it'll be the end lf my life. I've had that feeling before. And it never ends well when I do, infact, tell. Even if it's to strangers online.

This sounds like something you'd find on r/cringe or r/genzproblems or some weird reddit thing where people are *cringe*.

And I know cringe culture is very fuckin dead but you know what? I'm still scared.

I don't even know why I'm telling this to my 3 followers of which 1 is my girlfriend and 1 is some person I call friend but know nothing about. I don't know why I'm telling anyone when I know how this will end.

Most definiteve answer? I'll get texts from my girlfriend asking if I'm okay and why I've bottled this up and if I know it's harmful why aren't I doing anything about it while I wanna tell her she's a hypocrite because she's been sick for weeks and we should both worry about ourselves bur ultimately end up just saying "Worry about yourself <3 I'm fine- I was just tired dw"

What else may happen? Those other 2 followers will just be like: Eh. Or not even click "keep reading".

And you, unlucky person readinf this that isn't any of those 3 and has stayed up till here.

What will you do? Well you'll probably keep living, you'll know some random gen alpha out there wants to scream but probably forget by tomorrow and worry about yourself and you deserve to. You deserve to be selfish. You've probably earned it. Infact you might be tempted to reblog "same" or "#same" or "this is called <thing> and you should see a psychologist for help". Or maybe you just wanna be hateful, and you're seeing this attention seeking whorw ans thinking "Oh great. Another post for attention." and to not tell Tumblr to keep recommendating me, took a screenshot to post "attention whore" or you might be smart enough to realize some people will look for the post and just post "saw someone being an attention whore. shm."

You might be none of those or some magically how both!

And you know what? You're complex and a human and whatever course of action you take there's someone out there that will love you regardless because guess what? They're human too and I bet you that there is someone out there defending Hitler and that wants to kiss him. And you know that of he is getting people 80 years later then you have a fuckin change regardless of how much you hate yourself or want to die.

And I know it too. I know that if I do anything dramatic it'll end having a butterfly effect so big.

I know that everyone is not a fuckin npc, I know there's a reason the dude gave flowers to hia girlfriend yesterday and not today. I know everyone is so complex and I can't split this black and white.

But I don't care.

I just don't care.

I want attention.

I want love.

I want to scream without fear.

I want to not cut myself mid sentence after realizing that it doesn't matter what I say because the result will be the same unless I roll a 20 on chariama.

I want to know why whenever I'm happy qnd having the best time of my life everyone I care about suffers.

It's happened *too* much to be a coincidence.

I want to know what the fuck people mean when they say shame.

I wanna know why the same people that say "antisocial" instead of "asocial" police me around with its and it's and it is

I wanna know how "fear of the same" = "fear of people with attraction to people of the same gender"

I wanna know why "I don't feel any attraction at all" = "I'm a groomer"

I wanna know why life is so complex and so predictable and so surprising.

I wanna know *why.*

And I still feel like the next word I utter in real life will be yelled.

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livelaughwhump · 1 year

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a drabble idea for you: pre and/or post captivity Elliot accidentally gets hurt / hurts himself, so Lyra (+ the team) takes care of the wound. I think it could be an interesting “side by side comparison” :))

Thanks so much for the request!!

I decided to do both pre and post captivity because I liked the idea of a side by side comparison of how they treat him and how he reacts to getting hurt

I hope you enjoy!!

Pre-captivity

Elliot stared at the top shelf, clenching his jaw as he internally debated how he was going to reach it. This was why he hated chores, especially the ones that required him to be taller than he was.

Today, his job was to do the laundry, which he hadn't been too annoyed about. Laundry was easy and didn't require too much time or effort. Until he found the detergent on the top shelf of the utility closet.

Elliot groaned internally. For any of his other teammates, the top shelf wouldn't have been a problem, even for Yvonne. But Elliot was determined not to ask for help. He'd never hear the end of it, if he did.

As he reached for it, he realized that the stool he was standing on wasn't tall enough. So, without a single thought whatsoever, Elliot stepped onto the bottom shelf, putting all his weight onto it, and reached for the detergent. Shockingly, the shelf held his weight, but only for a few seconds. Just as the Elliot's fingers closed around the handle of the detergent, the bottom shelf creaked and snapped, sending Elliot tumbling to the ground. Admittedly, it wouldn't have been that bad of a fall if he wouldn't have slipped on the stool on the way down.

Elliot tumbled backwards, the stool squeaking across the floor. His head was the first thing to hit the ground, with a sickening thump. Elliot gasped and pushed himself into a sitting position, holding a hand to the back of his head.

"Ah, shit," he whispered. His breaths were quick and ragged, but he forced them to slow as he gathered his bearings.

"What the hell was that?" Lyra's voice shouted as they rounded the corner. Elliot glanced up at them. "What happened?" They exclaimed.

"Nothing," Elliot lied. "I'm fine. I just fell. It's not that big of a deal."

Lyra wasn't convinced. "Well, what happened?"

"Nothing," Elliot repeated. "I just hit my head, I'm fine."

"No, I mean, how did you fall?"

Elliot shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Can you just help me up?" Elliot extended his hand for them to take, but it went ignored.

Lyra scoffed and folded their arms across their chest. "Please don't tell me you tried to climb the shelves."

Elliot glared at her. "Don't blame me! Blame Karine for giving the short guy the tall people chores!"

Lyra rolled her eyes. "Laundry isn't a tall people chore, Elliot. You could've asked for help."

Lyra finally took hold of Elliot's outstretched hand and helped him to his feet. "If I had asked for help, the short jokes would only get worse."

Lyra chuckled. "Yeah, and I'm sure this'll help," she joked. "Anyways, come on. Let's go make sure you don't have a concussion."

. . .

Broderick held a small light in front of Elliot's eyes. He had instructed Elliot to follow the light, which he did with ease.

"This is so stupid," Elliot mumbled as he continued to follow the light with his eyes.

Broderick ignored him, but Lyra said, "Well, it's either this or you die in your sleep from a concussion."

Elliot scoffed. "Don't be dramatic, Lye. I told you, I'm fine."

Lyra shrugged. "Excuse me for being a concerned friend."

Elliot smirked. "More like a helicopter parent," he joked. Without thinking, Lyra playfully slapped him on the back of the head. Elliot winced. "Ow!" He shouted, turning to face them. "Way to be concerned about my head injury, Lye."

Lyra cringed. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Broderick put the light away once Elliot was no longer looking. "You definitely don't have a concussion," he said.

"Ha!" Elliot said, directing his attention to Lyra. "See?" Lyra rolled their eyes.

"But," Broderick continued. "You will have a pretty bad knot on your head. So, just keep an ice pack on it and you'll be fine."

Lyra nodded at the medic. "Thanks, Broderick." Broderick nodded and wordlessly handed Elliot an ice pack before packing up his things and leaving.

Elliot watched Broderick walk away, pressing the ice pack to the back of his head. "I told you I was fine," Elliot mumbled.

Lyra shrugged. "You won't always be. I just don't like seeing you hurt."

Elliot smirked and looked up at her. "Aw, thanks, mom."

Lyra rolled her eyes for the third time and began to walk away. "You're such an idiot," she said.

Elliot laughed. "You know you love me."

Lyra scoffed. "Yeah, whatever, sunshine."

Post-captivity

Elliot was sitting, stiff as a board, beside Lyra at the kitchen table. Lyra had asked Elliot to hang out with them while they made tea and did some reading. Elliot wasn't in any position to refuse a direct request, so there he was.

Lyra had her book open in front of her and her reading glasses propped on the bridge of her nose. Every once in a while, she would glance up at Elliot, but he didn't move. He refused to until he was told otherwise.

Elliot jumped at the sound of the screaming kettle, and he silently cursed himself for moving without permission.

Lyra lifted her eyes from her book and took off her reading glasses. "I guess that means it's time for tea," she said.

Elliot didn't move. He didn't even acknowledge that Lyra had said anything, which made Lyra feel incredibly guilty. Was he doing nothing because he simply hadn't been given permission to move? What was going on in that head of his?

Lyra thought for a moment before they said, "Elliot?" Elliot looked over with expectant eyes. Lyra tried a small smile. "Would you like to make the tea?"

Elliot's eyes widened. She wanted him to serve her! "Y-Yes, I-I would be h-happy to," he exclaimed. He jumped from his seat and quickly approached the singing kettle. Luckily, he already knew what kind of tea she liked, so it didn't take long to prepare.

However, as he lifted the kettle by the handle, preparing to pour the boiling water into the mugs, a familiar voice said, "Morning, guys." Elliot jumped, startled by the sudden visitor. His fingers slipped and the kettle tumbled to the ground, boiling water spilling over Elliot's bare feet.

Elliot screamed and dropped to his hands and knees in the puddle of boiling water. Tears we already streaming down his face as he scrambled to pick the kettle back up.

"Elliot!" Lyra shouted. She quickly appeared at his side, helping him pick the kettle back up. "Oh, sunshine, are you okay?"

Elliot was weeping. His feet were burning, the skin feeling like it was melting off. His hands were pressed to his face to hide his shame.

"Oh my god," Broderick's voice exclaimed. "I'm so sorry! That was all my fault. I didn't mean to scare him."

"It's okay," Lyra assured him as she lifted Elliot into her arms. "Just please help me take care of him." Elliot buried his face into Lyra's shoulder as they carried him onto the couch. Full-body sobs wracked his small frame. "Oh, sunshine, I'm so sorry," Lyra apologized. "I shouldn't have given you such a dangerous task. Oh, your poor feet. I'm sorry, Elliot."

Elliot could hardly hear them over the sound of his own sobs. They gently laid him on the couch as Broderick returned with an armful of ointments, creams, and bandages.

Elliot sniffled and cried the whole time that Broderick was caring for his burns. "I'm-I'm useless," he sobbed. "I'm worthless. I'm nothing but a mistake. I ruin everything. I'm a failure."

Lyra's heart nearly broke. "Oh, sunshine, it wasn't your fault. It was an accident."

Elliot ignored her. "I'm sorry, Lyra. I-I didn't mean to."

Lyra combed her fingers through his hair. "It's all right, sunshine. I'm not angry. I'm just worried about you. That looked really painful. Oh, Elliot, I'm so sorry."

Broderick wore a guilty look on his face the entire time he was wrapping Elliot's feet. Lyra held Elliot as he cried and gently rocked him back and forth.

Once Broderick was finished, he looked up at Elliot and said, "I'm so sorry, sweet. I didn't mean to startle you."

Elliot shook his head and whimpered in response. "It's-It's not your fault," he cried. His tears had slowed, but he didn't look any less distressed. "You didn't m-mean to. It was m-my fault."

"It was no one's fault," Lyra stated. "It was an accident. No one has to be blamed for it. What matters now is getting some rest. You're going to need to stay off your feet for a few days."

Elliot frowned, his chin trembling, and nodded. "Y-Yes, Lyra. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, sunshine." Lyra pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "It was just an accident."

I accidentally posted this before it was finished, so apologies if you saw this unfinished😅

I also apologize if it's a bit rushed, I wanted to finish it as quickly as possible after I posted it

If anyone else has any requests, please send them to me! I love answering these!

Taglist:

@l-antre-des-merveilles @pigeonwhumps @nicolepascaline @burningkittypoet @whumpinggrounds @suffering-and-misery @make-them-scream @honeycollectswhump @rabass

If anyone wants to be added to or removed from the taglist, please let me know😊

Or if you only want to be tagged in main chapters

#whump blog #whump #whumpee #whump writing #writing #amwriting #caretaker #whump fic #drabble #snippet #worthless drabble #pre captivity #post captivity #Elliot Córdova #Lyra Beckett #Broderick Abara #Worthless #livelaughwhump

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escapaldi · 5 months

Note

So… I followed you a long time ago, and then I left tumblr. I can’t remember if we interacted much back then, but since you’re also active here I have to ask: what did you think about the specials as a Capaldi fan?

Hello! I know I've seen your name around before, so welcome back! Even when I wasn't posting on this blog specifically, I was still on tumblr posting fic and stuff, so even though there is a gap I've always been here.

Now, as far as the 60th anniversary specials: I haven't watched them and don't plan to for a long time. A long-winded and salty rant by me is under the cut.

To be honest, I haven't felt the need to watch any new Doctor Who since Capaldi and Moffat both left because it all sounded like boring and cringey fan fiction (derogatory) I wasn't really jiving with. If that makes sense? Then RTD came back on as a showrunner and I was severely disappointed because it felt like such a step backwards. Plus that Tennant was going to be in it? No thanks.

Like... I get that to a lot of people, his return makes these specials "feel like Doctor Who again". I've seen that statement a lot from both randos and people I know. Which, fine, whatever, I'm not begrudging people for it, but for a lot of folks saying that, the statement includes a bunch of the show that doesn't feel like Doctor Who to me. I came in w/s5 because of a series of events that turned me off to the show early on. I was nearly sixteen when s1 premiered in the UK. That should have stuck me in the prime demographic to not only love s1-4, but have a sort of nostalgia filter over it to help facilitate excitement over the 60th specials. Well, there's some problems with that.

I can't stand Rose Tyler and any reference to her as something positive makes me cringe. Doctor/Rose in any form makes me viscerally nope out of anything. She was not as likeable as people lead others to believe.

I've been Pavloved into disliking Tennant due to the oversaturation of his interpretation of the Doctor in the series and the fandom as a whole, despite the fact he's just meh. The Doctor is not his best role and in general he doesn't do it for me in the looks department, especially as the Doctor. Which, it's fine if you like watching him (I'm sure Georgia loves watching him and she is a very good sport about a lot of shit) and I know my DW experience has been enhanced by watching the pretty but I am a demographic outlier lol.

What I did see of s1-4 before I got into s5 was Rose being an idiot, getting a deeply unsettling feeling over Jack Harkness, being pissed off for Martha and Mickey and livid about Donna, being irritated by the Master and the angsty space Jesus shite, and thinking Ten and Donna would make a good couple actually.

Oh yeah, and very specifically I'm mad because I watched The End of Time Part 2, like, almost soon as I could, and knew immediately that Martha/Mickey was Pair the Spares Race Edition even though at that point I hadn't watched all of s1-4 and for all I knew they hit it off in an unseen-by-me episode for a reason that wasn't getting drunk over their mid-tier white exes hooking up. Like, I clocked that shit back in 2009. There was a lot of shit I was not clocking in 2009, but I caught onto that, which should be an embarrassment.

...and, like, I'm on the internet, so I've seen spoilers. It's difficult to not see spoilers. Some of the spoilers I love to see hello Fifteen's THIGHS we love us a good slutty Doctor and I do have one UK-based friend specifically whom I've talked to at length about the specials. My fiancé also has been watching this entire time w/o stopping since 2005 (bc he caught it all as it premiered here in the US and at least he got to watch s1 Billie Piper; I fault him for nothing), so he's been giving me updates on what's going on as well. He is a good man who has done saintly things like drive me across three state lines to meet Peter Capaldi at a Doctor Who convention, so... he's generally trustworthy, but also a lot more forgiving than I am. But he was also the one who broke to me the news about Rose Noble because he knew I'd get upset that she's not Donna Jr. So I've got some good fonts of information. They tell me that I'd like the second and third more than the first, that we've just got some extra Ten-Donna adventures, and that generally everything's stepped up a bit from Thirteen.

...but to me, a step up from Thirteen is still not a step towards where we need to go.

You can't go from Eleven and Twelve, an ancient eldritch god trapped in a body with the grace of a baby giraffe and a legit punk who punches diamond walls for his wife and racists for his daughter, respectively, to a Tory apologist who never really got a scary "I am the Doctor and you're stuck here with me now what a shame :)" moment like Nine through Twelve got and think that "a step up" from that is going to catch me. I'm not enticed by the prospect of another Ten-Donna adventure done by the man whose writing and showrunning kept me away from Doctor Who for so long. I. could. not. care. less. There is literally no nostalgia filter making this okay to me. I cannot see what other people see.

I don't want to be an anti, I don't want to be a NMD, but they keep pushing my fucking hand and now I'm sitting here having not watched new episodes of what is literally one of my favorite shows since before the pandemic, watching from an arm's length as it sort of caves in around itself, going and absolutely pissing away their chances at having a really cool, massive-multi-Doctor bonanza like no other. You could have twelve Doctors. TWELVE DOCTORS. Eleven if our most venerable just kinda taps out like nah I'm done unless you give me Bill's job from the Three Doctors special. Like, the fuck, y'all. That got whizzed right down the fucking leg. Did they even try? Did they get rebuffed? Whose decision was the 60th specials? Do they even like Doctor Who? Or are they part of the set that thought that Tennant's Doctor would never be topped?

So... yeah... that's the gist of it. I'm sure it's gonna take being sat down for a marathon by Mr. Nehs before I get into Doctor Who again, which is honestly sad. The BBC has hated this show and been visibly trying to run it into the ground since they decided to make the divisive decision of casting Matt Smith (which worked out great in the long run but having been on the internet at the time as that announcement I can assure you it was not received well) and now they've got Mouse Bucks and some straight-up boring as sin seasons/series under their belts and idk what in the hell's coming for us now.

#replies #dielittlehero #sorry I kind of went off it's not your fault #a scary thing to consider is that by the time the 70th and 75th anniversaries roll around I might have kids old enough to watch #and not just watch but APPRECIATE as well #that's a terrifying thought considering everything #I'm not gonna tag w/fandom to keep it out of searches but yeah #and I swear to fucking God if they try to do a UNIT spinoff like they did to Torchwood I am going to SCREAM bc Torchwood is trash #I'm only vaguely 'in' the fandom rn and i feel freer for it tbh

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tineteenieworld3 · 1 year

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I actually got around the finishing chapter 4 of The Cemetery Dance (don’t send hate I got through the first part where they were in the bathroom or something) ANYWAYS was any one else who reads like lowkey surprised by Mike’s characterization?

Like, it’s not bad AT ALL I’m actually a big fan, but it just wasn’t what I was expecting. Maybe I’m so used to Mike getting shit on and and the kinda Fanon version of him that he’s this doofus loser that’s kinda an oblivious side character. Like, it’s totally fine, but he’s talked about a lot (mostly outside of tumblr) as this idiot that everyone rolls their eyes at.

Anygay back to the story, we’re kinda shown that Will is gonna be the main character, and that he’s the one who knows what’s going on and stuff, at least more so than Mike. I guess my mind immediately went to ‘oh, Will is gonna take charge, be the leader, while Mike kind questions and flounders next to him’ because even though I KNOW Mike isn’t actually like that, I’m so used to that characterization by now, even if it’s just from joke posts (again there’s nothing wrong with that) but the fic took a wildly different turn, at least from my expectation.

Mike immediately takes on this leadership role and is actually really serious. He gets Will out of the building, he was smart enough to not use his car so that if he needed it, it wouldn’t be recognized since he felt like he was being followed, he takes the lead in getting Will into clean clothes, looking at his injuries.

It was so like relieving to me I think, I didn’t know how much I was missing canon version of Mike until I read this.

He’s extremely quick, kind of blunt, and just displays in the first few chapters, especially four, how smart he actually is. There’s obviously some tension between them (don’t know why yet) but Mike is still able to pick up something off with Will and quickly goes into his medic era.

I guess I was just shocked to see Will actually looking to Mike for answers to what they should do. He’s the one asking questions. Mike feels like Mike, he’s not an oblivious idiot that follows Will like a lost puppy, he’s smart and resourceful.

The fic kicked me into a Mike rant LMAO. Obviously in the story, Will is injured, but I don’t think that changes the fact that Mike just knows what to do and seems to be keeping that to himself in a very calm and mature way. He just really blow up at Will or display much stress in a situation where he definitely should be.

Idk, I just am enjoying seeing Mike as the Mike Wheeler we know from the show. Like, he’s not just a cringe loser that people roll their eyes at, he’s smart and someone people look to for help and reassurance.

#byler #mike wheeler #fanfiction

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jess-moloney · 6 months

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"That is bizarre to me that she doesn't post his music on her page or in her stories (at the very least)."-

She hardly ever posts his music on her page or stories. She didn't post his cover either. How are you managing your partner, advising him to do a genre that is currently dealing with various issues he is against? I don't even see her following the same artists. I guess as long as her hands are clean.

It is so cringe when fans call her mommy. That woman is probably making fun of everyone in our fandom. She doesn't reply to the fans when they comment either. At least Jamie replies to some of his fans and likes comments. She seems to enjoy the attention at least.

There is nothing wrong with trying a different genre. Just make it make sense. Don't do it because it is on trend or feel that you can capitalize off of it. I have been revisiting old Counterfeit interviews and recent solo ones with Jamie discussing music. Sorry, even though I love his voice and he is immensely talented this is not him. What I find interesting is that she follows MGK and vice versa. Apparently he was one of her first "clients". This reminds me of the playback his management used. From rap to pop punk, only for the rock crowd not to accept him. Now they are slowly pivoting him back to rap. That is what I am seeing. If she is pushing this onto Jamie, she obviously doesn't care about the negatives as long as it doesn't affect her bottom line.

How are you managing your partner, advising him to do a genre that is currently dealing with various issues he is against?

That is a very good question. She wants to be a manager and his manager but she doesn't promote any of his actual work. She's very fine with posting intimate photos and moments and her half-naked whilst he hangs off her like he's an accessory but she can't post anything about his album? His merchandise? No, just her stuff and her shop and her work and the people she happens to be connected to.

Note: I'm not being a prude at all she can wear whatever she wants (and post it) but don't tell me that photo of her in a bikini or underwear or whatever it is with him hugging her and looking all loving whilst she takes a selfie looking smug isn't self-serving and attention seeking because it is.

I guess as long as her hands are clean.

This is a good point. Maybe she is pushing to get him canceled so he has no one to turn to other than her and then she's handling his entire career, money, appearances, whatever else. None of this makes sense and if she cared for him at all (or wasn't part of these decisions) you think she'd have enough sense to say "Jamie, promoting smoking like that is a really bad idea". She's supposed to be his partner, I'm sure she knows about his merch, and she's not even suggested that he not do this? As an alleged PR person she should know it's a bad look for him.

It is so cringe when fans call her mommy. That woman is probably making fun of everyone in our fandom.

No doubt. How can anyone leave a public comment like that to her of all people? What does she do to deserve that attention? I do think it's cringe when people say stuff like that to Jamie but at least I get why. She's done literally nothing other than fuck this guy and take credit for it and she gets "mommy"? She doesn't reply to people or like comments like you said, but she also doesn't block or delete them so it can't possibly bother her. She more than likely is laughing about how all these people treat her and have fallen for her image. She probably thinks they are a bunch of stupid morons and sees them as marketing material to make money off of.

What I find interesting is that she follows MGK and vice versa. Apparently he was one of her first "clients".

I don't understand what exactly she did for him though. Did she promote him or something? It seems like every "client" she's represented was already famous before they got around to being her client and she probably did very little of anything. Also, why isn't he still her client? If she was that good and she got him more fame or something....you think he'd have kept her as a manager? Right? People who get good managers usually keep them cause these people are who are getting them work so...guess she didn't get him much work?

If she is pushing this onto Jamie, she obviously doesn't care about the negatives as long as it doesn't affect her bottom line.

She must know the merchandise he's selling and she's not advising against it. I can't imagine if they are in a relationship he's not running ideas by her (if they are all coming from him). I can't see how she wouldn't tell him not to promote that sort of image these days. She's either a shitty PR manager in general, a shitty person, or actively trying to ruin his image because something's going on here.

#jess moloney #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #mail

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kittensharl · 10 months

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your asks about this kika/pierre situation made its way to my dash and i have so many thoughts about it (not that many as i don’t think about it that much, of course) but just like. IT IS such a weird relationship and i think i just need to rant about this all a bit if you don’t mind, bc i don’t think it would be a welcome topic on the environments i’m in (it’s not even a topic to be fair)

i don’t think the age gap itself is the problem, people have relationships with a 10 year gap and it works just fine (my parents have it, for example, married for 25 years) but i just think they’re in different stages in their lives. it’s one thing when it’s 30-37 or something like that, but 19-27??

and i’m not gonna say i don’t understand what either of them is looking for, i just don’t think, like i’ve seen around, that this is COMPLETELY his fault. i think she knows what she’s doing, she’s aware of the consequences this will have for her even when it ends. she’s in the spotlight and she might get her account deleted and posts reported a few times, yes, but she’s being seen, and that’s what she wants.

i also agree, i think he always looks more invested than her, like, 90% of the time. she posts him a lot because she needs the spotlight but he posts her including her in his daily life, like, not making a big deal out of it but making sure she’s there. and i’m pretty sure every photo of them both that wasn’t taken by them personally or like, they are posing in vacation or whatever, she never looks like, genuinely happy to be there. (ie. you see the cannes photos, the beach photos, she’s just there, looking completely bored and as if she would rather be at the coffee shop near her house than there). like come on, charles looks at pierre with more emotion than her!

and like, this doesn’t come from a place of jealousy like ‘i want to date him and i’m the only one for him’, it really is not (i’m not even his type, meaning, i am not a starved model-like body who’s “perfect” iykwim, and i am conscious).

i just find it so odd for your whole life to spin around being someone’s girlfriend? bc that’s all she is, no career no job no nothing, just ‘pierre gasly’s girlfriend’ and that’s just completely ????????? for me. if you search for her name anywhere, everything will be linking her to him, not a single thing about her as a person, only this persona, which would be fine if she was a “normal person” but she is allegedly a model, actress, tv host (i actually went to google her just for curiosity) so why doesn’t she have her own image? she’s following him EVERYWHERE, she’s in EVERY SINGLE RACE this year and i get that she’s the girlfriend and she’ll want to be with him as much as possible but just like, don’t you have ANYTHING ELSE going on? don’t you have something else to do instead of just follow him around like a puppy? not even A SINGLE WEEKEND?

i see people saying sometimes ‘they are so in love’ ‘they are perfect together’ of course they are in love, it’s a new relationship with a person so far from your age that everything is even more new and exciting than it already is. ‘she said he’s the love of her life’ OF COURSE SHE DID SHE’S 19!!!!! HE’S NOT THE LOVE OF HER LIFE, SHE’S JUST SO YOUNG AND LIKELY UNEXPERIENCED THAT SHE’LL THINK THAT A GUY WHO (apparently) TREATS HER RIGHTS AND SPOILS HER IS THE LOVE OF HER LIFE!!!!!!

also she lowkey looks like sid from ice age and kelly piquet together

so yeah, like, i won’t go online and report her account or even as much as look for her account to be fair, but i feel a bit of uneasiness when i see them together (fortunately, that’s rarely ever)

i don’t know, i don’t even know either of them like irl but pierre is a little cringe but he does seem like a nice guy, and i don’t even know her enough even from social media to say something about her, but yeah, i don’t know, i try to avoid this whole relationship in general because it icks me too much.

i don’t even do wags in general honestly, i don’t know why i get so bothered by her specifically. anyways you don’t even need to answer this, i stumbled upon your few asks and i agreed with all of them so much.

Thank SO MUCH FOR this raaaant!! I enjoyed reading it and agreed agreed A.G.R.E.E.D, yes - oh yes - she resembles Sid and Kelly, you are so right. And so true it is that Charles drowns in Pierre's eyes, he drowns and they flirt and they joke, nothing of the likes that Kika ever did in a picture/video with Pierre so far. In a better universe Piarles had been the real thing, am I right?

Over to the beach picture situation. It was… strange at best, aye. I found myself wondering if that’s her default going-into-the-ocean face or is she genuinely as bored as she looks? I’m a firm speculator in the speculation department of Kika Speculations that at some stage her patience for his antics, shenanigans, playfulness will dwindle because of how she has shown to squirm uncomfortably and such in the face of it (tumblr provided the evidence). But as these overly exciting and erotic hormones she is infected by right now starts to fade, she will naturally start to get annoyed by certain things Pierre does or says regardless—this is a critical phase that many couples go through as they head out of the rosy honeymoon phase fog that felt so dreamy and magical. The younger you are the less likely will you be able to confront that in a healthy way and more likely will it result in breakups. So, looking at Kika’s age only: she is in a higher risk of leaving Pierre. It can be that she will leech herself onto him harder to suck up more fame in his radius while simultaneously feeling bored and frustrated with him tho, resulting in Pierre breaking up with her, really.

The people complaining that the age gap is too big and accusing Pierre for being a predator and preying on Kika like a creep deserves to only ever eat burnt bacon with this cursed creature:

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