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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month

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general store

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, p in v sex, protected sex (for once! yaaay!), spanking (briefly), semi public sex, pogue!reader, reader is described as being 20, readers parents are dead, rafe being a playboy, hurricane aftermath

“dad, im not helping out at some fucking pogue shop!” rafe argues, yet his footsteps still follow ward towards the garage.

“everyone is doing their part, rafe.” ward sighs. “even wheezie is volunteering after the hurricane. come on, now.”

wards tone silences rafe. it's the tone he uses when there's no way rafe is getting out of something. rafe gets into the passenger seat, grumbling to himself until his dad rounds the car.

“and you're going to be nice. it's a bad fucking look for our family not to go to the cut and assist.” rafe knows ward doesn't actually give a shit about helping anyone. it's all about their reputation, the camerons have to be the stewards of the island, the aspirational story of pogue turned king kook.

“alright, ill be helpful. promise.” rafe can put in one day of work. that's not what he minds. it's having to help pogues clean up their shit that's worthless to him.

“it's some general store. got pretty wrecked, but no structural damage.” ward explains coldly, talking about the damage suffered like it's something on television, not real life people.

despite wards warning, rafe let's out a low curse when the car pulls to a stop. it's in the rough part of what little area they call downtown, and he can tell just through the single unboarded window that the shop is a disaster.

he gives his dad one last pleading look before getting out.

“oh hey there!” you smile as rafe enters, the bell above the door ringing. “you must be rafe, im y/n.” you stick your hand out for him to shake. rafe does so slowly, eyes scanning over the shop before landing on you.

“how old are you?” rafe questions. he expected someone at least mid thirties.

“oh… im uh, 20. this is-was my parents store.” rafe sees the pain flash through your eyes and decides not to question it any further.

“so, what's first?” the shelves are practically empty, with everything on the floor.

“the hurricane door burst open and swept everything off the shelves.” you sigh, rubbing your hand over your forehead. you've clearly already been working, forehead slightly sheened with sweat, cheeks flushed. “im just focused on getting everything back on the shelves for now. throw out anything damaged but if it's food, we should try and salvage it.”

“what for?” he questions. you clearly have plenty, and rafe can see that only a couple cans are broken.

“the ones who had more issues than just a door blown in.” you state like it's obvious.

“shit, yeah.” rafe nods. you turn back towards your store, beginning to clean as rafe does the same, reading the labels on the shelves and then trying to sift through the mess to put everything back.

you work silently, rafe occasionally looking over to you, his eyes roaming down your body whenever you're turned away.

“so you run this place?” he questions after a while, taking a sip of a water you brought out for him.

“run it, work it, live above it.” you nod.

“that's a lot for someone whose barely out of their teens.” rafe huffs out, barely out of his teens himself, only a few years older than you.

“some of us didn't have life handed to us on a golden platter.” you spit out, before shaking your head. “im sorry. you're here helping, its just… hard.”

“it's alright.” rafe waves it off, especially as you pull off your outer layer to reveal just a white tanktop, your light blue bra poking out the top. rafe fights the urge to pull the strap back and hear it snap against your skin.

“back to work.” you hum, looking at the clock. you were told rafe could help out until 6pm, and there's a couple jobs you need two hands for.

“thanks for helping out today.” you tell rafe, looking at the shop. it's mostly cleaned up, there's some additional deep cleaning you'll have to do, but it's in an acceptable state now to open tomorrow and allow the residents of the outer banks to buy cleaning supplies and food.

rafes eyes shift to the door, and then back to you. he moves quickly before he can think, before giving you a chance to react, one hand around your back tugging you close to him, the other squeezing your breast, his lips devouring yours in a hard kiss.

“w-wait-” you mutter, pushing rafe away slightly. “lock the door.”

rafe smirks, moving to turn the key, locking the door and anyone from entering the store, even though the sign was flipped to close.

rafe moves back towards you, pressing you back into the counter, lips teasing yours as his hands run over your body.

“th-the window.” you mutter. the sky was beginning to darken outside, and with all the shop lights on, it would soon turn into a glowing beckon in the dark for anyone to look into.

“sorry.” rafe just mumbles. he doesn't care about someone seeing you, not when he's been tempted by your tight tanktop and fitted leggings all day long. besides, rafe feels as if he needs a better thank you for helping you out.

rafe tugs your tanktop up, your chest moving up and down as your bra is revealed, just as good as rafe was imagining it, your tits almost spilling out, which rafe quickly works to get them all the way out, harshly tugging the cups down.

“we can go upstairs.” you whine out, even as your hands disappear under rafes shirt, feeling his muscles.

“nah, want you right here.” rafe has no interest in going up to your apartment or taking you in a proper bed as he turns you suddenly, flipping so you're facing the counter.

he pushes your shoulders forward, bare tits suddenly against the cold glass, making you cry out.

“gentle, please.” you whimper as rafe tears your leggings down along with your underwear, smiling when he spreads your legs to see your pussy is dripping wet.

“yeah, will be.” rafe reaches over to the shelves, grabbing a condom and opening it, glad that you had them in stock. no way he's risking getting a pogue pregnant, even if he does want you desperately.

rafe undoes his pants, only pushing them down his thighs enough to get his cock out. he's only half hard, so he leans forward, bending over your back as he rubs his cock over your ass until he's ready, slipping the condom quickly over his length.

“bet you're tight, huh?” he smirks, pressing against your hole. while rafe favors kooks, he isn't against fucking a hot pogue or touron on the occasion.

“fuck me and see.” you grunt out, glancing out the window, hoping to get this over with before the sun fully sets in the sky.

rafe pushes in suddenly with a moan as you grip onto the edge of the counter as rafe slams forward, your body pushing against the glass with every thrust, briefly worrying it will break with his intensity.

“fuck.” rafe gasps out, one hand wrapping around your hips to press down on your lower stomach, keeping you pulled close to him while the other hand gropes and plays with your ass, occasionally spanking the plump flesh.

“yeah, that's it baby.” rafe moans when your cunt clenches around him, his hand moving towards your clit to reward you for how tight you are squeezing him, finger stroking over your pussy.

“god, that's good.” you moan out. rafes fingertip is rough from the days work as he pushes his hips forward, big cock plunging into you.

“you like this kook cock, huh?” he smirks, listening to your moans, not able to hold them back any longer. he wonders if your neighbors can hear you being such a slut for him.

“y-yeah.” you nod, no point in denying it as your entire body shakes.

“gonna have to start buying my condoms from here.” rafe chuckles, looking around the store. it's not so bad now that it's cleaned up. “and using the first one on you.”

he rarely gets the urge to fuck anyone twice, but you're so tight around him, so willing as you start to push back to meet his thrusts, a loud slapping sound vibrating every time your skin comes together.

“close.” you warn, rafes finger moving faster, wanting to feel you clench around him, needing you to cum to get himself there.

your hard nipples slide over the cold glass, rafe rubbing your clit just right as his cock pushes in, your loud moan signaling your orgasm as you pussy pulses around rafes cock. he shoves his dick as far as your cunt lets him as he cums into the condom with a grunt.

you're both breathing heavily as rafe pulls out, tossing the condom in the overfilled trash can as he redoes his pants.

“come on, my dad will be by to pick me up soon.” rafe swats your bare ass, still on display as you slump over the counter.

your legs are shaking as you redress, just in time for rafe to unlock the door and let his father in.

“i hope my son was helpful?” he questions, looking around the store with an expression of approval.

“oh yes.” you nod, still slightly out of breath. “he was great.”

ward nods, saying goodbye to you before signaling rafe to follow him, who makes sure to turn back and give you a wink before leaving.

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ew-selfish-art · 9 months

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Dp x Dc AU: Tim doesn’t rest, not even in Death.

It’s a heart attack that gets him, well, that and the insane amount of fear toxin flooding his system. He was dead for a full three minutes before he watches (how was he watching?) his eldest brother get his heart going again and get his unconscious body to the cave. Alfred gets him onto bat-life support and Leslie looks gravely at his family after she’s done her best to heal him. They decide to keep trying, they don’t want to believe he’s gone.

Tim watches in fury. He’s more useful than this, he’s not just going to die and let the family mourn him! Tim sets to work trying to understand what’s happened to him and he realizes he must be a ghost. Therefore, if he wants to understand ghosts he needs to go where ghosts are, and thankfully he just read a JLD doc saying to avoid Amity Park at all costs.

It’s takes him a second to get used to flying at full speed, but he finds himself surrounded by strange people in a strange town and… he notices himself becoming more visible. He’s able to interact with more and more objects, he even picked up a pencil! Poltergeist is a step forward in his plan, Tim accepts this change of pace.

Then Tim meets Danny, a normal human kid who looks like he could be brought into the manor and given a cape, who looks straight at him.

“Wait, who are you? You didn’t die in Amity did you?”

“No, I died in Gotham. I came here to understand how I’m a ghost and how I can get back to my dying body. I just need a few answers.” Tim explains, and notices that his voice isn’t his own, like it’s a different language entirely that comes out.

“Well, uh, I dunno about going back to your body but it’s not safe for you to be here. The GIW are looking for lost souls like you that people won’t notice go missing. So get back to your family and find peace. Im sorry but that’s really the best advice I have.” Danny answers.

Tim begs him for answers on the GIW. Begs him for any answers at all. Danny shrugs him off each time, tell him that he’s just a ghost and he needs to move on before he gets hurt or becomes a problem.

Tim decides if he’s a problem, he’ll probably get more answers.

Soon enough, he’s stepping into the end of a battle where Phantom is getting Skulker into a thermos, and demands answers, and if not answers help.

They brawl, and Tim’s training as Red Robin gets him farther than a lot of ghosts. And then, when he knows he’s beat and he’s about to share thermos space with the robot jackass (who he can interrogate and then build his own robot) Tim realizes something.

“You’re still alive, aren’t you? You’re Danny, black hair and blue eyes.” Tim says and suddenly Phantom is as still as the dead despite the accusation.

“How the fuck- dude. Okay, you know what? Fine. Lets go talk, you’re clearly not giving up and I need you to never say that shit out loud ever again.”

Because blackmail works in life for Tim, blackmail also apparently works in death.

He’s given all of the info they have on the GIW, he’s introduced to ghost technology and how it works with ectoplasm. He’s told about the portal (although they refuse to sneak him into the house to see it- he can handle a few lasers, ugh) and he’s told about the general sequence of events in Danny’s life/death.

And then Tim is suddenly back in his body in Gotham.

The family found a way to bring him back and he’s 100% alive, no longer ghostly, but he retained all his memories.

“We have a war against the government to start” are not the first words his family expected to hear from Tim post death.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc crossover #dp crossover #danny phantom #Tim drake #ehehehe #long post #Tim’s obsession is answers if that isn’t obvious #danny does not anticipate Tim’s ghost disappearing to mean that Batman comes to his town #and the JL suddenly lobbying the government to overturn the acts as they violate a shit ton of other laws #Tim eventually makes it back to amity as a human and Danny is like *WHAT*#they get coffee and Tim explains to danny that he’s scrubbed all the GIW files and is about to take down his parents #he wants Danny’s blessing to go after the portal and danny is blushing so fucking hard but agrees that his parent have been out of line #for like way too long #Tim and danny become friends because they’re just two restless souls who have shit to do and not even death can stop them

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piastri-lover · 9 months

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my flower; charles leclerc

summary: in which the internet is so whipped for charles leclerc's girlfriend, and she loves them all back

pairing: charles leclerc x florist!reader

author's note: loved this request so much, was so fun to scroll through pinterest for fun flower photos lol x

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 412057 others yourusername life recently... view comments

user1 i wish i was her -user2 agreed she's so pretty

charles_leclerc love u forever xx -yourusername love u forever + 1 xx

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️

user3 y/n's making bracelets guys... -user4 i would die to have a braclet made by y/n

pierregasly he's smiling reading through all these comments -charles_leclerc pierre shut up --yourusername aww charlie xx

user5 is it just me who's convinced she's fake -user6 yeah there's no way that anyone's that nice all the time

user7 i'm sorry but how did charles of all people pull her -user8 drop dead gorgeous

user9 i bought some flowers from her shop in monaco the other day and she was the sweetest girl ever and the flowers were divine -yourusername thank you!! so glad u loved ur flowers xx

user10 i would smash icl liked by charles_leclerc -user10 woah

~~~

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 6293028 others charles_leclerc my sweet girl x view comments

user11 THE LAST PHOTO????? -user12 it feels so strange seeing y/n (the sweetest girl alive) doing anything other than smiling or holding flowers

yourusername mon amour x -charles_leclerc mon ange x

user13 mother is mothering -user14 need me a girl to gather flowers and just be pretty

user15 who's punching -user16 charles 100% --user17 i think she is ---user18 can't we just say both of them are fit and be done with it

lilymhe the flowers you brought to mine were gorgeous bbg x -yourusername anything for u ml x --charles_leclerc @/alexalbon we've been replaced ---alex_albon always knew this day would come

~~~

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 4192036 others charles_leclerc always a good day when she sends u flowers view comments

user19 get u someone who sends u flowers every week -user20 need me a florist girlfriend like now

yourusername knew u would love them sweetheart -charles_leclerc never doubted u for a second

yourusername love u charlie x -charles_leclerc not as much as me x --pierregasly we get it ur in love shut up about it

user21 im sorry but they're the prettiest flower ever liked by yourusername-user22 go to 'y/n's flowers' in monaco u will not be disappointed

user23 missed seeing y/n in the paddock this weekend -yourusername i was swamped with work so i couldn't make it but will fs be there after the summer break x

user24 best wag? best wag

user25 charles has bagged the best girl liked by charles_leclerc

~~~

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1029363 others yourusername summer of love view comments

user26 wish i was her -user27 bitch i wish i was him so i could be with her

charles_leclerc every second with u is magical -yourusername wish i could spend every day with u --landonorris u make me sick

pierregasly we've been on holiday for 2 days and u havent let go of each other -yourusername u wish u were holding charles huh?? --pierregasly Y/N STOP TWISTING MY WORDS!!

user28 im sorry shes stunning -user29 drop dead gorgeous --user30 body fucking goals

user31 sleeping on the highway tonight

user32 if anyone had to date charles i would want it to be y/n -user33 who gave u the right to say that --user32 bitch it was a joke calm down

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c0llisiion · 3 months

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I HATE YOU - g.st

Cr. _3aem on twitter/x for the pic!

★pairing : gojo satoru + fem!reader

★genre : smut

★: clan leader!gojo, mean dom!gojo, yandere type ig? , Mention of possessive gojo , cuckqueanery, voyeurism , degradation, fellacio , name calling , slapping, bondage — lmk if i missed any ^^

★W/C: 874

A/N : HIIIIII I DECIDED TO WRITE MY FIRST JJK SMUT CUS I BE GOING THROUGH THAT SATORU GOJO BRAINROT ( my gorgeous man is coming back frfrfr ) kinda gives me the ick everytime i proof read it 😭 but ANYWAYS HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Thinking about clan leader Gojo, who you were forcefully married to. Your clan and the gojo clan had a lot of tension building up between each other, and the last option was to marry the gojo's gifted son and the youngest beauty of yours as a peace treaty. Satoru had met you before. To say the least, he was not very fond of you. He thought of you as just a daddy’s princess who had no talent, even though your cursed technique was one of the rarest. Satoru was not pleased at first, but he had a change of heart.

Satoru was rude to you every waking second. He treated you like his cumrag. You were to obey him at all times. You want to go out? He will join you too. He would threaten to slice someone’s head off if they ever laid eyes on you or stared at you for too long. Cause you were his toy. His to look at. His to fuck every night till you were brain-dead. He would dismiss his rudeness towards you as possession or love. His cerulean eyes glowed as he rutted into you at an inhumane pace. His pale hand covered your mouth, stopping you from talking back to him. “You are damn right about me hating you. Cause you are mine. Mine to fuck. Mine. All mine.” He would say, landing a harsh slap on one of your tits. You writhe in pain, kimono all over the place, and your legs split open as he pounded his length harder and harder. “My fucking whore. You like it, don't you? Getting treated like a useless whore? Yeah? That's right.. You can’t do anything about it cus you belong to me. Your perfect little body is all mine."

His servants are always on alert. After your little sessions he would order them to clean you up while he goes out into the gardens for a smoke. He wouldn’t even take a chance in cleaning you up himself or embracing you. ‘You don’t deserve it.’ Is all he said to you when you asked him.

He liked seeing you suffer. Your tears and your cries were a pleasure for him. That's why he got you tied up. Hands tied behind you, and legs tied wide open as you watch your husband get his dick sucked by another woman. This man was a sadist. He watched you cry and writhe as one of his hands was bobbing this other woman’s head on his dick. Legs splayed out. His hair tussled. His haori hung loose around his body and he had an evil smirk on his face. “You like the sight, wife? You like seeing me fuck someone else’s mouth, don't you sweetheart?” He said. “No! Satoru! Please! Please! I'm sorry! Please satoru stop it! I don't like it!” You cried out. Face stained with tears and voice hoarse from the constant begging and crying. Even though he treated you like shit, you still loved him. That was your husband. Your husband. Your legs twitched as your arousal dripped down from your wet cunt. “Seems like you are enjoying it.” You shook your head. He let out a dark chuckle and threw his head back as he made the other woman choke on his length. He let out a deep breathy moan as the woman kept bobbing up and down. He hissed and moaned, to taunt you. “So.. fucking.. Good.” He bluffed. “Satoru please! I can do so much better!! Please im sorry im so so sorry! I will only listen to you! I will worship you, Satoru! My eyes will only be for you! Please satoru!” You pleaded out in defeat. Crying uncontrollably. Satoru raised his eyebrows in amusement. The woman in between his legs was giving him the worst head of his life. He just wanted to see you beg for him after your little drama earlier that day. Satoru called in two of his trusted and loyal servants, commanding them to untie you. His servants had seen worse, so it wasn’t that awkward for them. As they untied you and left, you immediately fell on the floor, crawling to gojo mindlessly, with hunger in your eyes. You pushed the woman off his dick, sending her flying to the wall. satoru giggled at your eagerness. You immediately wrapped your lips on his dick, taking him in fully. His hands grabbed your hair and started thrusting into your mouth. You gagged and moaned as his dick hit the back of your throat. Gojo was in full pleasure. His head was thrown back, and his body arched off the couch as you give his underside and balls attention. You choked around his length, your nose hitting the base as he pushed you further down his shaft. He tugged your hair before pulling you away. You gasp and cough, a mixture of your spit and his precum all over your chin. A string of the mixture connected your lips and his tip. You looked up at him with your big doe eyes. Satoru looked disheveled. He slapped your face softly before pulling you into a heated kiss, tasting yours and his mixture, smiling into the kiss.

“I fucking hate you.”

A/N: AHHH THANK YOU FOR READING <333 how was it? Should i be writing more jjk? Ilysmmm!

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sematarygirls · 2 months

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Living Dead Girl Pt. II — Patrick Hockstetter.

part one

pairing : patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader

summary : patrick gave into his urges and finally tested his morbid curiosities on prey much larger than just a cat or dog. little did he know his actions would come back to haunt him... literally.

warnings : patrick being a psychopath , animal cruelty , male masturbation , graphic descriptions of murder and suicide , reader being manipulative , degradation , sexual themes ,

word count : 4.5k words !

a/n : can't believe i'm finally posting this after a year and a half. also this is my first attempt at smut-ish so i'm sorry if it's ass. im not gonna say this is 18+ bc I myself am not 18+ (im turning 18 this year tho) also im not your mom and idgaf what you read.

"Finally," a voice sounded, causing him to drop both his can and his plate. The sharp sound of glass breaking followed by a loud thud echoed through the room as the plate and soda can collided with the floor.

"No, no, no," Patrick shook his head, shutting his eyes. "This isn't real. I killed you. You're not here. You're not real."

"Sorry, babe," the voice, your voice, whispered into his ear. Your warm breath fanned his ear, and he felt his whole body tense. "I'm very much real."

"That's not possible," he said through gritted teeth. "I watched you die. I buried you!" He opened his eyes, convinced that this was all some terrible drug trip. Maybe the weed he'd just got from Henry was laced, or maybe he was suffering from a temporary psychosis. Either way, there had to be some rational and logical reason that he was seeing you.

However, when he saw you there, sitting there with a smug look on your face, your presence as solid as any living person, he felt his heart skip a beat.

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing as you pouted. "What's wrong, Patrick?" You asked condescendingly. "Don't act so scared now." You walked toward him slowly, watching him scramble backward in a panic. A smile spread across your lips as you saw the pure fear in his eyes when he hit the wall behind him, having nowhere else to go. "You weren't scared when you stabbed me. You weren't scared when you watched me bleed out in your arms. You weren't scared when you buried my body like some animal you found on the side of the road." Your voice was seeping with anger as you stepped closer and closer, cornering him. "So you don't get to be scared now."

Patrick Hockstetter was not someone who was frightened easily. In fact, up until this very moment, he didn't think he had the ability to be frightened at all. His unique ability to remain calm and collected in situations that would often stress others out was one he was prideful of. However, at that moment, he felt all composure and level-headedness dissolve. For the first time in his life, he was scared. Not just scared—terrified.

"What- What do you want?" He asked, his voice shaky as he looked into your eyes. You no longer looked at him like he hung the moon. There were no remnants of your innocence and naivety—willing to trust that people have the best intentions. There was nothing behind your cold, lifeless eyes. It was like staring at a corpse.

"Now, what's the fun in that?" You grinned, leaning forward so your face was inches away from his. Your gaze flickered to his lips. The same lips you thought he'd planned to kiss you with, but instead, he'd stabbed you in the stomach and mocked your intelligence. "You should really watch your back, Patrick," you whispered with a devious smirk, your breath fanning over his face. "I heard the search for me is really picking up after they found my blood in the woods."

Your words snapped him back to the reality of the situation at hand. He had killed you. What you were saying was impossible though. Right? He was meticulous in every stage of his plan. There was no way they found any trace of you. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his eyes searching you for any sign of deception, but you were impossible to read like this. He was no longer able to detect everything from a single glance. He only knew what you wanted him to know.

Without another word, you disappeared, leaving the boy spiraling as he went through all the events of that night over and over again. "Come back!" He screamed, his voice echoing through the empty house. "You can't just leave like that you bitch!"

Patrick let out a frustrated yell as he grabbed the nearest thing—which happened to be a porno mag—and threw it across the room in a fit of rage. Who did you think you were to haunt him? To come into his room, make him feel that horrible emotion, and tease him just to leave abruptly?

He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to control his heavy breathing as his anger took over. You had to have been lying, trying to get into his head. He hated to admit that it was working. He was supposed to be the one in your head. This was his world. He controlled everyone and everything. You shouldn't be here. You should be dead and buried like he had intended.

He fell back in his bed and took a deep breath, letting his mind settle as he chased sleep. He told himself you would be gone tomorrow and that would be that. Your appearance to him, like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, was just a fluke. Tomorrow you would be dead and all would be right with the world.

He drifted off to sleep, having convinced himself that he would never see you again. He was able to get a few hours of sleep, but you weren't going to let him be at peace for long

At around 4 am, Patrick had a very vivid dream that he was choking. He was gasping for air, clawing at his neck as he looked around frantically. His surroundings dissolved into a pitch-black room. He felt his lungs burning, his brain growing fuzzy as the oxygen left him. It felt so vivid, so real.

He awoke in a panic, sitting up straight as he gasped for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Like he had truly been deprived of air like he'd dreamed about. He panted, catching his breath as he looked around at his room, thankfully finding no signs of you. However, when he finally felt secure, able to draw a breath without feeling like a thirsty man drinking water, he realized the pillow that had been behind his head was now sat on his lap.

The realization dawned on him that he may have been actually suffocating, and you were the culprit. He shook his head, trying to expel the thought as he laid back down, throwing the pillow off into the black depths of his room, so he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. It was just a dream. Just as you were just a vision.

Patrick wasn't stupid, though many would argue to the contrary. Just because he didn't give a shit about school and didn't try didn't mean he wasn't smart. He just saved his intelligence for things that actually mattered—like planning and executing a murder.

That in mind, his refusal to accept the things he deep down knew to be true was not, as some would think, him being stupid. On the contrary, he believed himself smarter than to believe in silly things like ghosts. Dead things stay dead. He'd learned that at a very young age. He knew when he killed his brother that he would not be coming back. Just as he knew when he killed you that you would not be coming back.

Ghosts don't exist. He wasn't dumb enough to believe that.

As he laid in bed, trying to rationalize himself into a calm enough state to fall asleep again, he found himself more on edge with every creak of the old house around him. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes conspiring with the moonlight to play tricks on him. His breath hitched at every shadow dancing around the dark.

You were proud of your work, and you had barely done anything yet. You watched from the shadows, pleased as he seemed to run himself in circles trying to cope with everything going on. The mere thought of you was torture enough.

You grinned, biting your lip as a thought washed over you. As a ghost, not bound by the physical realm, you had the ability to do a lot of things. One of those so happened to be raising and lowering the temperature in a room.

You focused hard, raising the temperature several degrees, making Patrick swear at the sudden sweat washing over him. You watched with a satisfied smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, trying to cool himself off.

He didn't have a six pack or anything, but you didn't expect him to. He had a lean, toned torso with a very sexy v-line peeking out from his jeans. A small tattoo sat on his stomach just above his v-line on the right side. You couldn't make it out in the darkness, but you didn't care much. The sight of it alone was enough.

After all, who said you couldn't mix a little bit of business with pleasure.

He had taken away the rest of your life, all the possibilities of experiencing having your first kiss, losing your virginity, falling in love. It was only fair he made up for that in one way or another before your time together came to an end.

The time passed agonizingly slowly with Patrick staring at the ceiling and you watching him, studying him like he was some foreign thing. It was so interesting to watch someone when they don't know they're being watched. Of course, he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, his body detecting the unseen eyes on him, but he chalked it up to paranoia—as he did every other unexplainable thing that seemed to be happening to him.

His mind drifted off, the heat making him restless as his brain filled with gruesome images of his previous kills. He sifted through his memory for the most interesting ones—dismembering birds, beheading cats, snapping a squirrel or two's neck—but none of them seemed to get him off anymore.

The image of your face right after he stabbed you made it's way into his mind. Your eyes, so wide and filled with fear. He could practically hear your sweet voice crying out, asking why he would do this to you. The thought made his cock tighten in his jeans.

He reached down, palming himself through his jeans with a groan. Reliving the sounds of you choking and coughing up your own blood had his fingers working quickly to undo his belt. He tossed it to the side, practically ripping the button off his jeans as he pulled them down along with his underwear, allowing his dick to finally be free from the restrictive fabric.

He spat in his hand, gripping his cock and lubricating it. He caught his chapped lower lip between his teeth as swept his thumb over his pink head, smearing his precum across it. He let out a low moan, letting his hand travel up and down his dick at a slow, agonizing pace. He kept his eyes screwed shut, immersing himself in the memory of your murder as he stroked himself.

Patrick was not a moral man by any means but this was a new low. Getting himself off to you, in his mind, was no better than if he was imagining one of his dead animal playthings. You were nothing to him. You were roadkill.

But, for some reason, the fresh sight of you, wearing the clothes he killed you in with that dark blood stain right where he'd stabbed you, your hair all matted, and the cold, lifeless look in your eyes, made it so easy to relive that night in great detail.

It was the greatest night of his life. The biggest release of pressure he'd ever felt since he began getting those homicidal urges—those itches. He didn't think he'd ever get to feel that euphoria again, but fucking himself to the thought of it would get him pretty damn close.

He let out a strangled moan, his hips pushing into his hand as he came, and he was right, it was the second-best feeling he'd ever felt. It didn't compare to killing you, but it was enough to satiate his urges once again.

He laid there, panting for what felt like hours. The time moved by so slowly until finally, the sound of the alarm block beside his bed blaring pulled him from his thoughts.

The red numbers reading 7:30 blinked slowly, reminding him that he had to get up and get ready for school. He leaned over, smacking the top of the clock roughly to silence it before falling back flat on his bed, preparing himself to get up.

He groaned, pushing himself up and grabbing a random pair of jeans and a shirt that smelled clean enough. He quickly got dressed before making his way back downstairs. He knew Belch would be here any second to pick him up—he always woke up later than he was realistically supposed to.

He slipped his boots on, and a few moments later, he heard Belch laying on his car horn. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door, heading outside and letting it slam just behind him.

"Calm your tits," he shouted in annoyance. Patrick always had a short fuse, but after the particularly restless night in which he'd been visited by some fucking ghost of Christmas Past, he found himself particularly irritable.

"Dude what happened yesterday?" Victor asked as Patrick climbed into the blue Trans Am.

"You were totally tripping the fuck out," Belch chimed in, starting the car and peeling out of Patrick's neighborhood.

"Dumb fuck can't handle his liquor," Henry scoffed from his spot in the passenger's seat.

"Shut the fuck up, Bowers," Patrick bit back, gazing out the window. "At least some of us don't piss our pants when we drink."

"It was one fucking time you dickhead!" Henry defended quickly, his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.

At the feeling of someone's hand on his thigh, Patrick quickly looked over at Vic. "Don't fucking touch me you-" he paused just short of spitting some derogatory remark about Victor being gay and a freak when he saw you sitting between him and Victor, grinning at him darkly.

"What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" Victor asked, bewildered by Patrick's behavior. Patrick was always an odd one, but he never acted this weird.

"He probably smoked himself fucking dumb," Henry grumbled, still annoyed about the pants pissing remark.

You held a finger to your lips as climbed over onto his lap, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. You just wanted to rile him up a little, make him feel suffocated by you, like he could never escape. And truly, he couldn't. You were never going anywhere until you believed justice had properly been served, and you would take that in any form.

He glared at you, but you paid him no mind, leaning to whisper into his ear: "How cute," you condescended him. "You thought I would just go away." You dug your nails into his shoulders making him sharply inhale, trying not to tip off his friends to the seemingly unwarranted pain he was feeling. "You will never be rid of me," you whispered menacingly, looking deep into his eyes with a sickening grin that made nausea pool in his stomach.

In any other situation, having someone on his lap, digging their nails into his shoulders would probably have been a pleasurable experience, but this was not any other situation. This was a nightmare he couldn't seem to wake up from.

When Belch finally pulled into the school parking lot, Patrick couldn't get out of the car fast enough. You disappeared as he scrambled to unlock the door and get out, finally feeling like he could breathe. He pulled his shirt collar to the side, looking down at the angry red marks where your nails had been. They served as a disturbing reminder that you were really there, and you could do anything to him.

"You get laid last night, Hockstetter?" Belch asked, grinning as he saw the red marks.

"That why you ran off yesterday?" Henry snickered. "You pussy whipped?"

"At least, I actually get pussy," he sneered, paling as he heard your laugh echoing around him the moment the words slipped from his lips. It was a deafening sound. Like a mix between a cackle and a scream that seemed to permeate his surroundings.

His jaw clenched, eye twitching as he resisted the urge to cover his ears. Apart from not wanting to look insane, he also didn't think it would help much. You weren't around him. You were in him, in his head.

The bell could faintly be heard going off inside the school, making Victor curse under his breath. They had two minutes to get to class or they were late.

"Mrs. Denton's gonna throw a bitch fit if I'm late again," he groaned, watching as Henry lit a cigarette.

"Kiss ass," he remarked, taking a long drag before exhaling the puff of smoke into Belch's face as Victor walked away.

"You asshole," Belch coughed, shoving Henry.

"Oh, shit." Henry's eyes widened as he tossed his cigarette on the ground, quickly stomping it out. "Let's go," he ordered, making his way up the stairs to the front doors of the school, looking behind him frantically.

Patrick's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden shift in Henry's demeanor. He followed the brunette's gaze, his eyes locking with those of Butch Bowers, the sheriff.

"Wonder if they're here for you," your voice taunted him, breath tickling the back of his right ear. He turned, preparing to come face to face with that condescending smile you always seemed to be wearing, but you weren't there.

He looked back, finding Sheriff Bowers still staring at him, seemingly ignoring whatever the deputy was leaning into his ear to say. Patrick wasn't one to back down easily, but your presence, your warnings, had him on edge. He quickly advanced forward, his lengthy legs providing long strides as he followed suit in heading inside Derry Highschool.

The sounds of his heavy boots hitting the linoleum floor echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to his math class. Victor was right; Mrs. Densen was going to throw a bitch fit that he was late, but he didn't care. He wouldn't have cared on a normal day, but on this day, with the police sniffing around and you practically breathing down his neck, he cared even less—which he didn't even know was possible.

He pulled open the door to the classroom, a hush falling over the students as he entered. Most stared at him wide-eyed, some avoided looking at him altogether, and he briefly caught Vic looking at him with sympathy. The teacher, however, was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Mr. Hockstetter, late again I see," she said pointedly. "You've earned yourself a detention after school today." Patrick stifled a laugh as he made his way to his seat at the very back of the classroom. "Is something funny?" She asked, her tone displaying clear annoyance.

"Yeah, that you think I care," he rolled his eyes, slipping into his desk. He tuned out whatever lecture the teacher decided to give him after that. His gaze drifted to the empty desk in the front row— the one you used to sit at.

"Don't go feeling remorseful now," you said into his ear. He felt your arm around his shoulders as you leaned down, your face positioned next to his. He turned to look at you, and you turned to look at him, your faces almost touching.

your breath fanned across his face, the moment oddly intimate until you grinned at him, opening your mouth and emitting an ear piercing scream.

"Ah," he grunted in pain, his eyes screwing shut, and his hands gripping his ears. It felt like his eardrums were seconds away from bursting and causing blood to pour out of his ears. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the room, and you, falling dead silent immediately after the words left him.

He peeled his eyes open, his hands falling as he looked around. "Excuse me, Mr. Hockstetter," the teacher gasped, clearly taken aback by his outburst. "Take yourself to the principal's office right this instant!" She ordered him.

His blood began to boil as he stood up abruptly, storming out of the classroom and slamming the door behind him. He was getting very very sick and tired of your little games. He headed toward the back door of the school, not wanting to cross paths with Henry's dad.

"This doesn't look like the way to the principal's office," you mused, appearing beside him. He stopped, turning to shove you against the locker. He groaned when his arms made contact with the locker instead of your body, and your laugh echoed behind him. "You think you can hurt me, how cute."

He let out a frustrated groan, smashing his fists against the locker. He couldn't stand you. He couldn't stand having someone that he couldn't manipulate or hurt but that could manipulate and hurt him. "What do you want with me?" He asked, refusing to look at you.

"To break you," you grinned. "To have you begging for it to stop."

Yeah, right he thought.

He was Patrick fucking Hockstetter; he didn't beg. He didn't bend to the will of others, especially not some dead bitch. He was determined not to let you win. You would eventually get tired of tormenting him and go back to wherever the fuck you came from. He was sure of it.

Oh, how he underestimated your patience and overestimated his resilience.

He lasted exactly a week. A week of you screaming and poking and scratching and fucking with his head. A week of people staring at him like he was insane with his random outbursts and talking to the air. A week of torment before you finally had him right where you wanted him.

"Just leave me alone!" He begged, standing in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. You had finally drove him to the brink of insanity, and he didn't know how much longer he could live like this. You, being everywhere all the time, taunting and touching and teasing, it was too much for him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Go away!"

You tsked, grinning at him, that condescending grin that filled him with indescribable rage. How could you look at him like that? Like he was stupid? You were the stupid one. You were killed by him not the other way around!

"I'm afraid that's not how this works," you told him, shaking your head slightly. "I get to stay until you give me what I want." You took a step, punctuating the next words you said with a pause between each one and another step forward. "However. Long. It. Takes."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" He yelled, desperate to get you away from him forever.

"Well," you drawled, running your index finger along his chest, making him flinch. You smiled at the effect you had on him. He talked a big game, getting mad when you left—cursing, throwing things, even—having the audacity to fuck himself to the thought of your murder— but when it came to being face to face with you, he cowered away.

Ain't nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble as Henry Bowers' father once said.

"I'll be nice and give you a choice," you said darkly. "You can turn yourself in," you almost laughed at the way his demeanor hardened. "Which we both know you're too proud and stubborn to do," you continued. The intrigue behind Patrick's eyes was undeniable as he eagerly awaited his second choice. "Or," you trailed off, grabbing a razor from his dresser and holding it in front of his face. "You can die."

"You're a crazy bitch!" He shouted, though his inability to mask the tremble in his voice made him sound less than threatening.

"Maybe," you shrugged, admiring the sharp piece of metal. "Hmm," you hummed. "I wonder how you'll feel about me in another week," you asked thoughtfully. "I bet you'll be wishing you took the chance while you had it."

His jaw clenched at your words. He'd already lost a considerable amount of sleep because of you, and the thought of you tormenting him any longer was a fate worse than death. "Why don't you just kill me?" He asked defeatedly. You'd backed him into a corner that he was positive he couldn't get out of without doing things your way.

"I'm not you, Patrick," you spat hatefully. "I don't kill people or things."

"What? Like driving me to suicide is any better?" He scoffed, challenging your sense of superiority over him.

"You have an informed choice," you told him, trying to regain your calm. You didn't like losing your temper, especially not to the likes of Patrick Hockstetter, scum of the earth. "That's a luxury you didn't extend to me."

He eyed the blade in your hand warily. He didn't like accepting defeat. He would never admit to killing you. Being confined to a tiny room, unable to satiate that burning itch deep inside him whenever he needed; it would drive him mad.

"Go on," you urged him softly, holding the razor out for him to take. "Put yourself out of your misery. End it all and be free."

He looked between you and the blade hesitantly, a million thoughts running through his mind as he tried to make a decision. Glaring at you, he took the blade. A scowl formed on his face as he observed the triumphant expression that you seemed to wear immediately after he made his choice.

"Two deep cuts, and you'll never have to see me again," you assured him. That all but sealed the deal. Patrick didn't believe in heaven or hell and death didn't scare him. Being caged like one of the many animals he's so cruelly killed scared him more than dying. He walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge.

He sucked in a breath, pressing the blade into his wrist and dragging it upward toward his inner elbow. He clenched his teeth, deeply inhaling through them. A groan of pain fell from his lips as he felt the warm blood begin seeping from his wound, running down his arms and onto his jeans. He continued the action on the other arm, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.

The blade fell from his trembling fingers, clattering to the floor as he fell back onto the bed. His head felt foggy, and the pain began to melt away into numbness. His eyes began to droop, and he faintly saw your outline standing above him.

He just barely felt you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His ears began to ring as his eyes fell shut. The words you spoke next were the last he would hear before his heart slowed to an eventual stop. He almost couldn't make them out, the sound muffled, as if he was underwater, but his mind used its last bit of energy to process them before giving out.

"Goodbye, Patrick Hockstetter," you said softly. "May you burn in hell."

tags! : @fatfagsj , @mysticalhills , @simpingforthe80s , @slasherho , @pinkpanther-44 , @slaggylemon , @kyranisnotdead , @ladydragiiss ,

#🎀#patrick hockstetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #the bowers gang #it 2017 #patrick x reader #patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader #henry bowers #victor criss #reginald huggins #belch huggins #it x reader #living dead girl #dark romance #dark themes

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olderthannetfic · 6 months

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You've encountered site changes over time as a fan elder, what do you make of Tumblr potentially being put out to pasture? Tumblr was my coming of age fan site, and im looking for advice to transition to the next thing with grace and less bitterness than I feel now.

Ahaha. God, you should have heard the howling about LJ. "Fandom is over!" "Never again shall we dwell in fandom's True Home!" etc.

Hell, this endless "only LJ was good" crap turns up in replies here on posts where I as OP have very clearly laid out why that's rose colored glasses nonsense and you can so make friends on tumblr, have a conversation on tumblr, etc.

I had my crabby phase about this during the transition from Yahoo Groups to LJ. A lot of the real olds had it over paper zines and the transition to the internet.

I don't know if reading these hilariously samey old posts would help. It does give perspective, I think.

As for what you should do, do what I did with Tumblr:

Look around to identify the Next Thing fandom is going to camp out on.

It may take a few guesses and some time to figure this out. You will likely not be an early adopter. Fandom was well established here by the time I joined at the end of 2010. Of course, by now, all those 2009 and before accounts are long gone, but at the time, I was a n00b joining other people's space despite having been in fandom for ages.

Don't expect to enjoy it

I didn't join tumblr because I liked it. In fact, I despised it. I kept right on despising it until a brief stint in Sherlock fandom, a fandom that was so active here at the time that I was able to finally see the good aspects of the site's structure and features.

This is the mistake a lot of people make. They give things a cursory try, don't enjoy them, and go "not for me", forgetting that the last site also had a steep learning curve that was either difficult or that they didn't notice because they were in a different phase of their life.

Bitterness and grief are, frankly, an inherent part of the process. You can try not to be a debbie downer in your public comments, but you can't just not feel those things during the awkward part of the transition. Sometimes, acting positive and cutting off excessively negative thoughts can make you feel less negative overall, but it doesn't happen immediately.

Accept that feeling cranky and old is both a you problem and a state of mind, not a property of the new site

Relatedly, the way we remember fandom platform X feeling usually has more to do with us being in college with fandom friends down the hall or having discovered Our People for the first time or some other time when we had a lot of energy and positive emotions. Often, we were in the throes of a first or new fandom love too, probably for some megafandom that other people also cared about at the same time.

When fandom is leaving some site, there's a grieving process anyway, but we're also often in a worse part of our lives for starting new things. We're busy. We're tired. We're between fandoms. We feel like we already paid our dues to build up our community. Why should we have to start again?

But let me tell you, you always need to start again eventually. I go to a weekly vidders' zoom chat, and a lot of the people in there are old as balls, including Kandy, the person who invented vidding back in the 70s. She's a lot of decades and a few cancers in, and she had to relearn how to vid on a computer after transitioning from slideshows to VCR vidding back in the day. If bad health, platform changes, and dead friends were going to stop her, she'd be long gone.

It's like sharks: you stop swimming, you die.

This isn't just about fandom, obviously. It's about avoiding a midlife crisis and, later, about avoiding feeling emotionally geriatric even when your body is falling apart.

Change gets us all, but being mentally old is a choice. The real reason I gave tumblr such a try was that I had been so resistant to getting on LJ. I was 20. Even a year later, it was fucking embarrassing to have been a crotchety old hag as a college student. I promised myself I'd soldier through the next change instead of dragging my feet about it. And it totally worked in the end! But boy did it not make the transition any less unpleasant emotionally!

Find your joy

As is obvious from the above, the vast majority of the problem is just emotions. Fandom has been on a million broken sites with shitty features. We go where the people are, regardless of whether it has the technological aspects we liked at the last place. The actual shape of that platform is largely irrelevant.

What does matter is whether we as an individual fan are still excited and happy about something. I was between fandoms recently and went looking around for BL series I hadn't watched yet. People kept suggesting things set in the present day with too-cheesy production values and too many banal schoolboys in modern day settings without even anything spicy going on. I realized that the BL/danmei scene wasn't really cutting it for me and I should go for production values and genre and non-canon ships. You probably scrolled annoyedly past the picspams that resulted.

(Of course, hilariously, someone has now shown me the trailer of Red Peafowl, so someone may be making BL that feels like it's for me after all. Look at all that badwrong and very dark color grading.)

When you're in a good place emotionally, it's a hell of a lot easier to weather any change, and when you have a new fandom, it's a lot easier to connect with other fans.

A lot of people wait around for lightning to strike twice. They found their first fandom by accident, and they expect it to happen seamlessly again. For me, it's far more productive to brute force it: collect up a big list of what's popular or what's new and go through it till you find things you might like, then try them all.

And part of this, obviously, is not waiting for other fans to make the party happen. The more you need to join something other people are already doing, the less choice you'll have in fandoms or in platforms. If you aren't picky and just go where the tropey longfic is, that can work, but even then, favorite authors disappear or go to fandoms you hate and former megafandoms dry up. If you're the one bringing the party, it's a lot easier to find a new fandom or platform or community to have fun in.

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xueyidweams · 13 days

Text

rambling once again (aventurine x cat-person gn!reader) (this kind of pattern is what I’m talking about.) (read more bc this became quite long, sorry!!!)

Aventurine in his life of working for the IPC has come across a lot of stealers or kids trying to find their food for the day. he usually gives them some money and send them on their way. however, he really didn’t expect for someone to try and rob him in Penacony, in the dreamscape no less. Somehow he didn’t sense the man hurling himself towards him and grunted in surprise as he was pushed down, before he could even open his eyes the man was off of him and running away with claw marks all over him.

dumbfounded, he gets up and looks around, only to find two cat eyes staring at him… except they weren’t a cat… well.. half cat half person? He thought the species went extinct long ago. though, you were living proof of the opposite. you helped him sit up, he felt your claws brush against his knuckles and you felt the coolness of his rings on your paw-hand. observing his every move with utmost attention, your feline eyes following his every mimic and body movement.

“well thank you kind stranger—“ you accidentally cut him off as you smell him closely and realize who he is, he smells just like those bastards from the IPC! way too rich to be true smelling! your ears curl backwards and you pull yourself away hastily as you run away from him. He blinks as he sees you run, so fast… is this why the IPC hunts you all down like you’re all one of a kind? He yells after you, “Hey wait! just listen to me, please!“ you look back at him, your teeth snared and your pupils as slanted as they can be, “leave me alone IPC scum!”

you turn a few corners and your eyes widen in horror to see a dead end… what the hell, you know this place like the back of your hand! did they build this just now or have you been hanging in the unfinished part for way too long? the hairs on your tail stand up and your ears curl back as you hear his footsteps, taking a step back your back meets the wall with an oomph.

“Hey look— don’t be so hostile, we don’t have to be enemies. you can trust me.” yeah right. with those eyes? they’re unnervingly pretty and somehow frightening. your gut is telling you to run but your heart is hammering way too fast in your chest and the sound is drowning out his voice and you feel like everything you’ve had to endure to not fall into IPC’s slimy hands again has all been for nothing and—

you feel a hand on your arm, you look up and meet his eyes. then you feel the warm tears staining your cheeks, your tail hugs your leg as your ears droop, “look. please don’t give me up to them, i’ll literally do anything. do you want any dirty work done? i can do it! please just leave me alone, i don’t want to go back i can’t go back!” you see his eyes… soften somehow. to him, you’re a stark reminder of who he was, maybe still is. the way you fight so hard to protect the most precious thing to you, your freedom reminds him so much of the unsavory memories that he doesn’t notice he is squeezing your arm a bit hard and some of the fur is stuck on his rings. you flinch and grimace and he untangles your fur from his rings, he pulls his hands off of you.

he coughs in his hand and looks at you once more, voice softer yet firm. “im not going to hurt you or give you up. that’s not my job anyways. i just wanted to thank you, for helping even though it could put me in serious hot water. cats hate water right?” you half rolls your eyes at his teasing remark, “yeah yeah pretty boy, cough up some cash if you want to thank me. thanks for not turning me in but empty sentiments won’t feed me when i have to wake up from this dream.”

he smiles and takes off the ring from his index finger, he looks at you, “can i hold your hand?” you feel a slight warmness spreading through your face and squint your eyes, “fine but don’t try anything funny!” he chuckles and takes your hand in his gently, “wouldn’t dream of it.” he slips the ring on your ring finger, winking at you. “you can sell this for at least five hundred thousand credits, plenty to eat hm?” you look at your finger, the ring and at him as your heart does summersaults in your ribcage. you’ve never… even as a tease you’ve never been flirted with this is—

he takes advantage of your stupor and strokes your shoulder, squeezes slightly and gives you a smile. “you haven’t seen me and i haven’t seen you, yes?” you nod, speechless but thankful. he turns around and you finally get your voice back, “wait!” he looks back, his eyes watching you with interest. he raises his eyebrows, “thank you. i dont know what else to say but i’ll never forget this. and i wasnt’… joking when i said i could do your dirty work. so if you need something and i can get it done, i’ll do it free of charge.” you manage to tumble out as your voice trembles a bit, still shocked. his smile returns, “I’ll think about it, maybe fate will make us cross paths again huh?” he gives a little wave and starts walking, “oh also, do take care of your fur, it’s rather soft.”

you look dumbfounded, your face morphing from surprised to angry to flustered but he has already left. you look at your ring finger again and play with the ring, maybe the aeons have pitied you now?

‘he’s really pretty…’

you think to yourself as you pocket the ring and think of all the fish, meat and bread you’re gonna eat. and maybe you’ll try that soul glad thing.

#should i continue this?#hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #aventurine #aventurine x male reader #aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader

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your-local-hoemie · 11 months

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HELLO 🐢ANON BACK AGAIN WITH ZHONGLU BRAINROT THUS TIME YIPEE

Okayokay so imagine like immortal!reader who went into like a deep sleep/coma after the archon war to like recover and everything. So after zhongli retired (i forgot how many yrs after the archon war) reader finally wakes up and gets so confused coz their lover morax is dead?? But reader recognizes him (hes standing right infront of them) so theyre even more confused now and why is his name zhongli?? Either way reader jumps into his arms and hugs him and asks him what happened and everything so theyre reunited and happy now 🥰 and zhongli almost comung to tears coz hes so happy that readers alive 😞😞 all this time he thought they were dead T-T and they kinda live as retired gods in liyue enjoying their "mortal" life together ughhh so cute like an old married couple

OH MY GOD YES IM SCREAMING, CRYING, GIGGLING, KICKING AND ALL OF THE RESTVDHFJFJDJFJFKIFIG!!!!! 🙏🙏🙏

Watch me get too carried away with the angst because I love putting myself through pain.

Warnings: mild angst, fluff, Zhongli being a simp, gn!reader, not proof-read.

Characters: Zhongli.

It had been a long, grueling battle.

You had fought tirelessly next to your lover, Zhongli. Throughout the day, the entirety of the war.

He often spoke about his displeasure in you doing so but the thought of him possibly getting hurt, or worse, terrified you.

So after your complete disregard for your own safety. You finally struck down the last of the enemies as the war slowly came to an end, only to notice how badly injured you were.

Once Morax came across your broken and bloodied body, he swears it’s the closest he’s ever come to breaking.

Even after all the lives he’s had to take, the blood spilled in his name.

You were the one thing he couldn’t handle losing after this long, gruesome nightmare.

After he carried you back to the safety of your small, hidden cottage where you would both spend your time drinking tea and talking about your future together in Liyue before the war started, he tentatively cared for your wounds and watched over you every chance he could.

He obviously knew that you were immortal. he also knew that occasionally, if you were hurt or sick, you'd fall into a regenerative sleep.

So when you remained unconscious for a few weeks, he wasn't worried. After all, a few weeks in his eternity meant nothing. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss you beyond words.

After weeks turned into months and months turned into years, his hope of ever seeing your soft gaze soon vanished as his time was becoming more and more occupied with rebuilding the land he once ruled over with you by his side.

When the last wall was built for the last house for the now growing population of Liyue, he had to make the decision to move on.

So with one last visit to the cottage, now hidden away even more by overgrown shrubbery, he placed what he thought would be his final kiss on your cheek along with soft begs of forgiveness and apologies, he finally mustered up the strength to walk out the worn down door one last time.

Now, many, many years later, hidden away in that same cottage now completely overgrown and reclaimed by the wilderness, you finally forced your eyelids to open and take in the almost blinding rays of sunlight streaming in from the cracks in the walls as vines hung down and gently caressed your skin.

Slowly sitting up, you took in the scene around you. This was definitely not how you remembered your home looking.

How long had you been asleep? Where was your beloved? What if he was still on the battlefield? All of these thoughts rushed through your mind as you forced your stiff bones to support your weight as you stood up faster than what you should of.

Now fully conscious, not to mention disorientated, you ran out of the small abode to scan the area for any signs of Morax only to find something that confused you even more.

Nothing. You found nothing of the chaos and bloodshed that you remembered so vividly, only the soft touch of grass beneath your feet and the cool summer breeze caressing your skin.

Turning around in a daze, you examine your once cozy and welcoming home only to find it now crumbling and overgrown with plants and wildlife

If this had been any other time you would have found the scene to be enchanting, but as the realization of how long you had been asleep slowly started to hit you, you couldn't help but feel your heart start to race with anxiety and questions.

Taking a deep breath, you gathered your thoughts as best as you could and decided to go to the closest village you remembered.

Needless to say, after walking for around 40 minutes, you were more than a little shocked to see the village now being a very large and very populated city.

"Excuse me, are you alright?"

Looking around with a confused expression you locked eye's with what appeared to be a guard of some sort.

"Y-yes um, would you mind telling me where I am?"

"Liyue harbor of course! Home of the great Geo Archon and Teyvats largest trading supply lines!"

Hearing the formal title of your seemingly lost lover you couldn't help but pry the poor soul from your confused questioning.

"Geo Archon? Morax? Would you know where I could find him? we know each other and-"

"I'm sorry, you must be new here. Morax was killed not too long ago…”

After hearing those words leave his mouth your mind suddenly went blank.

Not only had you been asleep for what seemed like centuries but now you’ve just found out that the love of your life, Your other half had not only died but was also murdered.

Not saying anything else, you took your leave and started walking aimlessly through the city streets that now felt even more foreign that what they did before.

You did your best to try and take in your new surroundings and find out just how long you had been unconscious for but the looming grief that wrecked your heart just seemed to get worse with every mention of Morax.

After spending a few hours aimlessly walking around the harbour you decided that all you needed right now was to process your thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, you say yourself down on a wall that overlooked what seemed to be the centre of a market place that was now silent of any busy citizens as the moon rose up above the horizon highlighting the buildings with a soft glow.

The only signs of life left now were a handful of fishermen packing up their boats for the night and a small tea house that overlooked the street leading ti the harbour that was occupied by two sails men that were selling fish at the dock earlier and-

You feel your heart stop in your chest as you lean forward to take in the silhouette of a tall man with posture matching that of a plank of wood and a very familiar looking rat tail.

There’s no way. It’s impossible. You just found out he died in front of all of Liyue harbour’s citizens just months earlier.

You were so convinced that it was just the grief making your mind go fuzzy that you got up and decided to walk and find a place when you heard him speak.

“Ah, yes. This tea is superb as always”

You swear you dug your heels so hard into the ground that it left a mark in the stone beneath you.

“Morax..?”

The man froze solid in place at hearing his old name come from such a familiar voice that he could of sworn it was just his ears playing tricks on him.

Hesitating for a moment, you took a step closer to him as his deep golden eyes widened at the sight of you now draped in the soft glow from the tea house.

“Y/N…? It can’t be”

Through your vision that’s now blurred with tears you could see him stand up before slowly walking down the steps towards your figure before speaking words that could barley be heard over the gentle breeze.

“It really is… Celestia it really is you!”

Without a second thought, you ran up to him and the your arms around his waist before sobbing into his chest (heh breakdown boobies)

Not saying another word he kneeled on the ground holding your shaking body in his strong arms, not even bothering to hold back the tears running down his cheeks.

“I.. I thought you were dead! Everyone told me you were killed and I-”

“As did I, my love. I thought I lost you many centuries ago and that I lost the blessing of seeing your smile once more”

You both stayed like that for a while longer as he held you close to his chest as physically possible, almost as if he feared that the second he let you go, you’d disappear again.

When you both recovered from the shock of finding each other after believing you’d lost the other one for eternity, “Morax” took you to a quiet place away from the city and explained everything that had happened since you fell asleep all those centuries ago and how he’s retired from being an archon to simply live as “Zhongli”

“I can’t believe you still remember me after all that time”

“How could I forget, love? Every second I spent without feeling your hand in mine was far worse than any tragedy I’ve bore in my lifetime”

“I suppose I’ll have to get used to calling you zhongli now, huh?”

You both let out a soft laugh while Zhongli wrapped you tightly in his embrace.

Times might be very different to what they were but you have all the time in the world to adjust, and you can rest assured that the love of your life won’t leave your side ever again for the rest of eternity.

“I love you, Morax”

“Forever and always, my dear~”

AAAAHAJDLEIDODODEDJDIR WHY DID I ALMOST CRY WRITING THIS HNGGGGGGGFGG IT’S SO BAD

My creative juices became a waterfall and then a whole ass tsunami. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t missed staying up until literally 5am to write about my boys T-T

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trincketbox · 6 months

Text

Jason Todd as a Trans (ftm) allegory

Written by me, a trans man

[this edit was made by me, original picture it's Dan Mora's sketch]

TW gender disphoria, (implied) transphobia.

Im not saying his story was written with this perspective in mind, Im saying *death of the author (*the reinterpretation of artistic creations by the public both as a community and aa individuals, and how this goes far beyond the creator's original message on mind) is a very real thing.

This narrative resonated with me, a trans man, and my experience as such. Maybe out there is another transmasc person who caught themselves invested in this character the same way as I, and maybe they'll read this post and be happy to found out they're not alone on these feelings.

Without further addue, let's begin.

The second Robin, and the feeling of not fitting

Every trans person first memory of perceiving oneself as somehow different (and how) it's particular to each.

Some realize pretty young, some older. Some always have this lingering feeling of not belonging but become conscious of it later in life.

This feeling its present trough all of Jason's life. First, when he first arrives at the Manor. Later, when he starts operating as Robin. Then when Tim "replaces him", and so on.

Usually labelled as the black lamb of the family.

Tragedy is always, first, born off love

Jason's death and resurrection is written as a tragedy (no shit, Sherlock). But there, to be a tragedy, there has to be hope first. There has to be love.

Now, this varies from version to version, but a general consence is that Jason Todd was loved by Bruce Wayne, regardless of how much their relationship might change and twist on the future; Jason Todd was a good kid, regardless of how he might be portrayed as recless. He was a traumatized, angry kid who wanted to make things better. Who wished for bad guys to not hurt people anymore. Who wished to change the system for better, and took the matter on his own hands both as a child and as a young adult.

This

This right here

Was a loved, brave, bold, sensitive, mischievous, smart child who would latter come back like this:

Demanding justice, demanding damnation for al the pain he went through, demanding retaliation to the monster that set him off this world.

And all these requests fell to the ears of Bruce Wayne, Batman. The man who took him in as a scared, bold litte child that beated him in the cold of the night in the alley where his parents died. He stole his car tires, he's a child and he stole his car tires and he made Batman laugh.

That Perception doesn't change with his rise from the dead.

What changes is Bruce's view of him now.

Now, this depends on the writer, but on the start of Jason's "coming back to Gotham to fight Bruce" arc, there is the accusation of him coming back wrong.

Of him being better before

Of something being wrong with him since the start.

The implications of his physical change as wrong in comparation to his younger self.

I find Jason's body dismorphia due to The Lazarus Pit™ very interesting,but in this case Im not referring to it as a comparation with body disphoria (even through, he does get the feeling of your body changing in ways out of your control and the trauma that surrounds it).

Im talking about Bruce's view on all of this.

Luckily, if you're trans and had supportive parents, you won't know these things by first hand experience, but many, many people do.

And Jason gets it.

Jason Todd its womanhood™ coded

This is, partially, one of th main reasons why his fanbase consists on a large part of fangirls.

Repressed rage upon the injustices you go through all your life, and once the last drop falls, said rage is weaponized. Seen as dirty, as over the top, as dangerous.

Your older self being compared to your younger self, being asked (directly or indirectly) where that sweet child™ went.

Being striped away from your body autonomy (murder, torture, resurrection against his will, whatever is going on in Batman Gotham War).

Being labeled as the most sensitive. Sometimes in a good light, sometimes not.

The burning weight of still loving parental figures that hurted you.

Topping it all, it's implied through many instances he's a feminist (yes, Im aware this is also heavily influenced by fanon interpretations of the character, but you can't deny it's still heavily implied).

All of these issues almost universal (however not exclusive) to AFAB people life experience.

There is this recognition in these wounds. "He gets it", you feel, he gets it.

He gets it in a similar way transmasc individual have an undeniable insight of these issues. He gets it in a way that feels genuine, familiar, personal.

Lastly but nor least important,

He gives me gender™ vibes. That's it, that's the argument

Over all, Jason Todd its a multifaceted, complex character. He's morally grey, his temperament ranging and mutating with each reinterpretation. Some core issues stick, others don't.

I do not hold the one and only right interpretation of this character.

We can al agree, nevertheless, that even through he's not canonically trans,

Jason todd would be a great trans ally, fighting by our side, in name of our rights, our pain but also our pride.

For that's what heroes do.

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cringefail-clown · 3 months

Text

at last, where doing it man where MAKING THIS HAPPEN

cringes jakehal fic rec list

just so were clear: some of the fics are unfinished, and havent been updated in a while. leaving a comment to let the author know that youre reading and youre enjoying it is fine, but dont be a bag of dicks and harass them over when the new chapter will be up. have some decency or else ill be inside your walls.

Heart by fawn_writes || rated T || 1/1 || 663 words - man its so good. short and sweet. jake comes by to witness the construction of hals new body while also reminiscing about the times he fought brobot and his untimely demise. a good sparkling of body worship. "Everything will be normal. They’ll manage to keep it normal. After all, Jake has enough of his own heart to share." - fuck, that lines so effervescent.

What he needs by fawn_writes || rated M || 1/1 || 1259 words - another banger from the same author. they be doing the horizontal tango, but nothings too graphic. healthy serving of body worship from jakes perspective, as well as his internal struggle with his apparent robotic attraction.

Dead Weight by squirtgunplay || rated M || 5/9 || 27337 words - oh that fic. oh my god. love me some zombie apocalypse au with existential horror sprinkled on top. hal and dirk are twins but with a twist in this one. theres mystery. theres injuries that make you incapable of moving around. theres ship of theseus discussion. its nourishing. its beautiful. jake and hals banter in this one is fucking amazing, and the author captures their characters so well. the relationship between hal and dirk is also very fucking good and heartwrenching and just ugh. stellar writing, the forth wall break made me laugh out loud, hal gets called a security camera (derogatory). theres graphic depictions of violence, so beware of the tags.

Tennessee Whiskey & You by MistLaFey || rated T || 5/? || 12217 words - major character death and graphic depictions of violence tagged, so beware and read the tags. no-sburb au. dirk fucking dies (its in the fic description so i dont feel like its a spoiler). beautiful exploration of grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms and trying to get back into the normal life when theres a big part of it suddenly missing. hal and dirk are twins. jake is not doing well. hal is also not doing well, but pretending he is. its heartbreaking and some scenes made my chest hurt. very good fic and i dont understand why it doesnt get more love. it deserves it. go read it, even just for the funeral scene, i got teary-eyed over it.

seconds by squirtgunplay || rated E || 2/2 || 18698 words - graphic depictions of violence and its no joke, presidential alert the girls are fightinnn!! but its also so funny and the authors so funny and its also really hot! no sburb au, hals a human and dirks twin. he gets kidnapped by a craigslist hitman jake who mistakes him for dirk. the banter is top game in this one. hal cant keep his mouth shut even in life or death situation. jakes a dork, but hes a deadly dork, and also cant keep his mouth shut about his personal problems. theres fistfighting and knifethrowing and hal gets a weapon put to his head at least twice and he thinks its pretty damn hot. theres banging in second chapter. what more can i say to sell you on this one. the characters are on point, the action is tense but its also written in a cheeky, fun way, smut is good, a npc gets unsubscribed from life. amazing fic, 10/10, will read it again.

I Think Therefore I AR by Taxi_Boy || rated T || 25/? || 30417 words - im saving the best for last. major character death. hal has to start the game and get his friends into the medium while dirk is missing, while also pretending to be dirk as to not raise their suspicions. im not going to say anymore about the plot, you just have to go and read the fic. genuinely my favourite jakehal - and homestuck in general - fic of all time. i love caliborn in this one. i cant wait to see what the author has cooked up for us in the future. its plainly genious.

these are only ao3 fics as i have no clue how tf you search other fanfic sites for a specific ship, but if you have any other recommendations feel free to add them onto this post! we all need some good jakehal fic recs in these trying times!

#homestuck #homestuck au #jake english #hal strider #lil hal #auto responder #jakehal #haljake #reblog to save a jakehaler

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coolprettyleo · 26 days

Text

the traffic lights didn't know - begin again au ☆

wc: 1.2k

tw: depression. heartbroken. lmk if theres more

hughes sister x ryan leonard

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

frankie hughes was in a weird place in her life.

she didnt have the feeling of dreading to go to hockey practice anymore, and call her crazy she missed that feeling. not the sport, she wanted the sport dead in a ditch for what it did to her, but she missed the feeling of hating something so much.

she thought about directing her anger towards drew. but she was way to heartbroken to do that. she wanted to erase all her thoughts of drew, but he invaded every inch of her; her heart, hips, body, and love. there wasn't anything he didnt touch or get too.

frankie was starting to get depressed because she felt like her days were on repeat. over and over again. the only light of her day was when she would see ryan, or whenever he texted her back, and depending your overall happiness on a boy was not in any way smart.

she felt like nothing in her life was okay and resorted to asking the traffic lights if it was all going to be okay. news flash! they didn't know.

at the moment though, she was dressing up for a lunch...meeting with ryan. she wanted to say date, but ryan wanted nothing to do with her romantically, till she was fully over drew.

she wasn't but she thought she was. which is why she had been feeling blue. its not like she still wanted drew though. she just felt embarrassed and insecure. and the fact the reason he didnt want her, was because she was dumb?

I mean frankie knew she was ditzy. her family has always said that her blonde was showing, whenever she was being slow. but thats just family teasing. hearing other people talk about how dumb you are makes you want to crumble and die.

she was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard a buzz coming from her bed. it was her phone, which had a text from ryan, saying he was outside.

she quickly finished applying her lip combo and sprayed her favorite perfume, and rushed out. her favorite handbag of course coming in tow.

she loved when her and ryan, were able to hangout. he was always busy and his schedule was always jam-packed so days like these were the best because she finally got too go out and enjoy life.

she had been trying to enjoy it on her own though, she's resorted to taking the long way home from class.

"hi ry" frankie said as she got into his car.

"hey, why are you all dressed? you know were only going to chipotle"

"yes i know. i can read! i honestly just dressed to kill my time. a girl just cant get all cute for no reason?"

"no- I mean- you can. you look cute- i mean you look good." Ryan stumbled face red as he drove.

frankie loved how he'd get all flustered.

"you think I look cute" frankie said, she needed that compliment really bad.

"yeah, you always look cute" softly smiling as he looked over at her, at the red light.

this is why she loved to see ryan. he always put her in the best moods. he made her want to break through the windows she had boarded up and see the love the world was capable of giving. he had the goofiest, cutest smile and freckles that made her want to kiss everyone of them.

she hadn't realized they were starring at each other, till the car behind them honked and cut them out of their trance. both of them turning away with red faces.

"are gabe, will, and jacob coming today?" frankie asked as they pulled into the parking lot. she liked to hang around them, they were all so funny and in a way reminded her of her brothers.

"uhm no, I thought it could be just me and you today. if thats okay- I can call them to come. but lowkey will and gabe are busy with class, but I can make jacob, if that would make you feel bette-"

"ryan! im okay with just us two" she said laughing at his rambling.

"sorry" he cringed.

he opened the door for her, as they walked into chipotle.

and load and behold, drew was in there. laughing with aram in all his glory. she felt like she saw drew everywhere, and the only thing they shared was this damn campus.

she looked back at ryan with a glare.

"did you know?" frankie asked as he followed her sight too drew and aram.

"I swear I didn't. I wouldn't do that to you. we can go somewhere else" he said hoping he didn't just ruin all his chances with her.

as much as frankie wanted to run away and get drunk, she knew the morning would be right around the corner and it wasn't going to change anything. he still wouldn't be hers; not that she wanted him to be.

"no, its fine" she said still walking in. ryan following after her like a puppy. they both ordered and as she was paying she heard ryan dabbing them up.

"you guys wanna sit with us?" drew said motioning over to frankie. he honestly didnt think there was a problem within them.

"uhm-" ryan looked back at her.

"we already planned on going to the park" ryan said as he waved goodbye to them and met frankie whereas she had been filling her water cup, that was full of sprite. she refused to pay for a drink.

"where we sitting" she smiled at him.

"I actually thought we could go to centennial park" he said as he guided her out.

"what- I was fine with sitting in there" frankie said feeling her heart drop because maybe ryan was embarrassed to be seen with her in front of drew.

"drew asked me if we wanted to sit with him"

"oh."

"yeah, I didnt think you wanted too"

"I could of sucked it up"

"you dont have to though"

"no- I want too. I need you to know and see that im over him"

ryan sighed. he knew she wasn't, and he wanted believe her, but he knew her all too well.

"okay" ryan said to frankie.

"okay?" frankie asked confused.

"your over drew"

"I've been saying that"

"then go on a date with me?" ryan asked.

frankie hesiated. did she really want to start this relationship with ryan on a bad foot? it was all going to go bad if it was doomed from the start. she didnt have any romantic feelings left over for drew, but every time she saw him, she had to act like everything was okay; when it wasn't.

"see I knew it! theres my answer" ryan said pulling frankie out of her thoughts.

"ryan" she sighed. if the story was over why was she still writing pages?

"its okay frankie. i already told you i'd wait for you, however long it takes" ryan said looking at her seriously.

her heart fluttered at that, and she softly smiled at him.

"i won't make you wait long leonard" she said pholding out her pinky.

"and I'll hold you too that" he said locking it around hers.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

this idea came from @crazy4minty !! she ate with this lol. i had never made the connection... im seriously thinking about renaming the au to death by a thousand cuts. anyways I have a really bad fever right now, so im probably done with writing for today! <3

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #ryan leonard #gabe perreault #hockey fic #will smith hockey #bc hockey #frankie x ryan #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #ryan leonard x reader #ryan leonard imagine

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zvdvdlvr · 1 year

Note

I don’t know if you take requests if yes then could you pretty please do a Cedric Diggory and/or Theodore Nott fluff alphabet

Thanks✨

fluff alphabet; cedric diggory

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

ok but i really do believe that cedric diggory needs to always be holding your hand or, in case ur not a physical person, know that he's always by your side. i do be thinking though that cedric will always be down for almost any kind of pda

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

the forst thing i thought of while reading this is that there are two types of best friends reacting to their bestie's break-up: the one thats all "omg bae im so sorry!! do you need to talk? lets watch some movies and ill get all the ice cream and you tell me everything" and then "ok... any suggestions for what we'll do with the dead body?" out of these, cedric's fr the first one.

as a best friend, cedric 100% will point and laugh at people you dont like, and will undoubtedly stand up for you and ur presence if you aren't there.

and he will buy you Christmas gifts (if u celebrate) and will spoil u on ur birthday

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

YES. PLEASE.

he loves spooning (specifically him as little spoon but he dgaf if u dgaf) and will 100% fall asleep with you. cedric, for one, lovesss being in between your legs (hey now 🤨📸) with his head on your stomach and he's just all wrapped up in you omg it makes him so happy and warm and sleepy omg hes soft

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

at some point, yeah. cedric wants to settle down. he knows, though, that thats not always in the cards and is willing to do whatever for your love.

HOLY NART CEDRIC DIGGORY IS AN AMAZING CHEF D O N T TRY TO CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. ok so imagine: after graduation, probably a week or so into life without school, you're still unconscious from a busy night of doing whatever you were doing. now its getting later in the morning, the sun is rising farther, and your body is ready for food. cocooning yourself in an old hogwarts blanket, you start making your way to the kitchen of the apartment you're sharing with cedric. you find him mid-flip of a scrambled egg. he's wearing a pairbof light grey sweatpants, and the sun shining beautifully on his bare chest. not to brag, but cedric was definitely muscular from quidditch. he looks up, soft eyes visibly lighting up seeing you. he smiles sweetly as you basically waddle to him. taking you in his arms, he presses a kiss to your forehead and goes back to the egg.

lmao okay i see u

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

genuinely, cedric does want the best for you, so he takes comfort in knowing this would be good for you if breaking-up was necessary. he won't pussy out, don't worry. cedric also believes in communication, so he'll make dinner or whatever and then he'll sit down with you and just say it as it is with as little sugar-coating as possible. he cares about your feelings, so he wouldn't be mean about it. he'd assure you that if, at any point, you needed him, he would always be there for you.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

mans ong wants to get married (when he knows ur the one). he wouldn't wait years unless he felt the need to, but wouldn't rush right into it.

when the time comes, he'll introduce you to his family, and obviously his dad would like you because theres literally no reason not to. he would buy a ring without you knowing, and would definitely take you somewhere. if you proposed to him, holy shit he'd probably start crying. if you made a speech? sobbing. he's kinda emotional, and is not afraid to cry about the big stuff. happy tears streaming down his face hed probably make tf out with you right then and there.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they physically?)

he a softie, i think we know now. physically omg would be so tender and sweet with you unless you want him to be ;) (im sorry omg im sleep deprived)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

oui oui, garçons und filles. expect lots of hugs from behind cos bros a sucker for those ong 😭❤

if ur shorter than him, hugs from the front are so sweet n shit. he leans down and kisses your forhead and its honestly just so sweet damn

if u a little taller than him, slay bbg i see you 🤩 anyways, ced wanna be held some days so he'll just kinda stand there until you get the hint and hug him like you know he needa be

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

damn okay thats a tuff one tbh

when he knows you'll put up with his shit and he just kinda knows that you the one, he'll come up and be twiddling his thumbs and be all ''omg i think i love you and im in love with you"

no, honestly, he'd probably bring it up into a conversation and then just steamroll right by it. he wants you to know he does love you but he doesn't want to be overbearing and scare you away

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

cedric does kinda get jealous, but damn he won't tell you. it's kinda obvious, though, when he is jealous. he'll be glaring and everything at whoever your talking to/about and kinda just wallow in his anger like "merlin man dzont they're with me >:(((((" when you come by and stand by him and kiss him or hold his hand, he does get happy and look down to keep anyone from seeing his smile

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

depends of the mood

during hogwarts and he just got out of a rough class or its been a long day or whatever, he'll kiss you with those soft lips of his, gently tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

if you're both at home and just woke up its just a soft little kiss on the lips, lingering slightly

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

literally so sweet omfg 😣❤

as a prefect, he's got some experience with kids (specifically 11 and 12 year olds) if you both decided you wanted kids, adopted or not, he's definitely be so sweet but sometimes you might have to remind him that he needs to be especially firm with some kids just because they may need it.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

slow and sweet, most days. he'll make breakfast (most days) at some point unless hes asleep or sick. if you shower in the morning, he'll make sure you have a cup of tea or coffee or cocoa waiting for you when you're done

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

he loooovvveeessss cuddling okay? he'll do anything you want, watching movies, play games and the like

though cedric loves movie nights, he loves the moments when the movie is paused, and you're doing whatever it is you're doing (petting ur dog or cat, re-placing a blanket, scurrying out of the room for some reason) he loves those. it makes him feel safe knowing he's with you in your home, with your personal stuff, being happy and cute

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

as friends, you'd obviously know the basics: fave color, fave drink, eye color, yada yada yada.

cedric diggory trusts pretty easily (when dating) and will tell you things you probably never thought to ask. personal things that he holds so close to his heart, sometimes he forgets those things are even there.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

it certainly takes a little bit to get him upset

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

cedric takes pride in knowing he's yours and you're his, so yeah, he knows details about you almost no one else really knows. hell, he'd probably even remember your gramma's birthday (if you guys were/are close)

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

waking up with you for the first time. seeing you asleep made him swell with warmth. he knew you had a hard time trusting, so you being vulnerable around him made him super mega ridiculously happy

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

he trusts you. he knows you know that there's a line between being nice and being a little too nice, so he doesn't get too jealous. in any case, a part of him is worried you'd find someone 'better' than him

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts?)

cedric loves dates. cute little outings where you guys can go do that cute couple shit and just bask in each other.

CEDRIC LOVES GIFT GIVING WHAT

he knows what to get you because he kinda likes going shopping with you

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

cedric picks at his hangnails until he bleeds

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

now, as one of the golden boys of his time at hogwarts, yes he does care about his looks. he dgaf about little pimples but damn if theres a hot out of place...

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

honestly kinda. he's devoted to you. he's yours. its hard for him to be away from you for weeks let alone months, but of course, he would always pull through in the end; all for you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

cedric pets every dog or cat that he sees (with permission)

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

bros got a thing for not having dirty socks laying on the floor don't ask me why i know this shit

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

turning and nuzzling into you and holyfuckingshit its adorable :((( sometimes he'll whine when he can't quite reach or find you and he'll 100% wake up in the middle of the night if you aren't with him

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ovaryacted · 29 days

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Ok ok ok, so…hear me out. (TW: death, and suicide at the end)

Let’s just say Leon’s kids (maybe they’re a teen at this point) ends up captured by some evil bioweapon lab. The ransom note is essentially ‘leave us alone to do our science or we kill your kid’

I can see this playing out two ways.

The first, Leon tears apart the world. He sees red and essentially blacks out until he’s reunited with his child/ren. He’s awake for the entire time it takes to find them. The only time he actually ‘rests’ is when his body physically crashes and passes out. Even then, he gets nightmares. What if they’re too late and his kid/s become twisted creatures? What if they’re already dead? What if he has to put a bullet in his own precious baby because they were reduced to a shambling zombie, just like RC?

He wakes up screaming. Crying. Sobbing.

Even if he gets to them in time, they’re undoubtedly traumatized. They won’t be child/Ren anymore. They would have been exposed to how fucked the world really is. He starts thinking he’s a failure. He’s failed to protect his kid/s. The ones he loved the most in the world have had their innocence ripped away.

But damnit, when he finds them, you bet your ass he’s not letting them go. He hugs them tightly. Almost too tightly. Leon starts sobbing. They’re unharmed. Untouched by evil science.

When it comes to the escape, he holds their hand. It doesn’t matter how old they are, he’s going to hold onto SOMETHING. They aren’t coming out of his sight ever again. Not after this.

Second scenario, Leon IS too late.

He sees what USED to be his kid/s. If he stared hard enough he could see them, under the shambling, the growling. They were still in there somewhere.

But he was too late. Even if they could get a cure, the damage was done. His child/ren were gone.

The world goes quiet for Leon. His only focus would be on them. All he could hear is his own heartbeat. After he ends their pain, I don’t think he’d go home.

The official report be KIA, but anyone else who was on the mission would know the truth. Leon didn’t want to live without his kid/s.

BUT THEN ITS ALL A NIGHTMARE BECAUSE I MADE MYSELF SAD TYPING THIS AHHHH IM SORRY

cw: religious imagery, mentions of gore and violence, suicide attempt

Hey, angsty anon, I know you remember sending this to me when I was at work and it fucking upset me but I said I would make it worse...well I'm making it a tad bit worse by adding my thoughts to this. Apologies in advance, and of course if you don't want to read some sad shit, don't read it. (I was half asleep writing this so my bad lolz)

I think Leon's family becoming involved in the horrors of bioterrorism, the very thing he's trying so hard to protect his loved ones from, is one of his biggest fears. In this field, he's seen people he cared about, good people, who were abandoned by those meant to protect them and had to alter their bodies to try to feel control. Although Leon does everything to ensure his family is protected, he still falls short when his child gets taken away by an enemy and is used as collateral.

The entire aspect of finally being able to have a life gets to Leon. To have a chance to settle down and have a family of his own which is now being threatened, turns Leon into this vindictive monster just motivated by revenge. On prior missions, he's usually calculated and knows what to do, where to go, and what to bring. But now that his child is involved, his own flesh and blood, yeah he blacks out for most of the mission and is going off of instinct.

He doesn't give his partner much of an explanation when he just says he's going to leave and that he knows he's going to bring his family back together. He can't promise anything, can't promise if he'll come back in one piece or at all, but he will bring his child back home. If being a federal agent working in bioterrorism has taught him anything, is that not everyone comes back. Sometimes he just gets lucky and the cycle repeats.

Leon does not sleep, does not eat, and much less gives a shit about his own safety and health. As far as he knows, he's on a witch hunt to kill the bastard that threatened his family and his happiness. The entire time he's trying to get his child back, his mind goes back to the horrors of all of his missions. He thinks back to the fear he felt in trying to save Sherry, he remembers the way his mind went all hazy on his mission to Spain and saved the president's daughter.

It's all the same. But it has to be different right?

He doesn't consider himself to be a religious person, he used to be back in his youth. But as this rogue mission goes on longer and longer and he spends more time without his child, he starts to silently pray that they're alive, that they haven't been ruined like everything else in this rotten world.

Let's say he does find his kid in one piece, scared and traumatized, probably tucked into a corner in a dingy cell in some run down lab. Leon wrapped his arms around them, apologizing over and over again, looking for forgiveness, and blaming himself for putting his child in danger simply because of the life he was forced to live.

He does get back home in one piece with his child in his arms and eliminates any other possible and future threats so he never has to worry about that again. The people who even think about hurting his family will regret ever doing so. As long as his child is safe and back at home, he thinks he's achieved the impossible and is protecting all that he holds dear.

But let's go on the opposite end of the spectrum. What will happen if Leon doesn't get there in time? If he finds his child turned into some monster as revenge? It would tear him apart, and he will consider this to be his karma for even wanting a better life for himself, a life he doesn't deserve. The person or thing in front of Leon wasn't his child anymore, it was a mess of torn-up limbs and cut skin, and he couldn't feel his child's presence anymore.

His soul is empty as he raises his gun to shoot towards the monster, putting them out of their misery, and the last bit of humanity Leon has left goes with the dead body hitting the ground. He still has a mission to complete, a society to protect, so he focuses on that and refuses to give himself a moment of grieve.

Later he says, I have time later.

He's detached from his reality throughout the remaining time he gives himself to finish off this mission, his last mission. When all the threats are eliminated, he walks around aimlessly, his spirit has run dry and he knows the gaping hole in his chest is too much of a burden to handle. He doesn't cry, he's done enough crying in his life and frankly, he doesn't have any more tears to give.

I've failed. I've failed you. I'm sorry.

The words repeat in his head and he pretends his significant other somehow gets the message that he's not coming back home. He wonders if God will come to save him from this blasphemy, but this is the price he had to pay for having too much blood on his hands, blood he did not want to have.

His hand is steady as he puts the gun to his temple, finger on the trigger and he hears it click, nothingness comes right after. He doesn't feel pain, doesn't feel much of anything, and surprisingly he feels calm...at peace.

Things can't be different. Not this time.

#ovaryacted asks #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil drabble #resident evil imagines #resident evil angst #₊˚⊹ ♡ ─ angsty anon

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softness-and-shattering · 1 month

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Ok the latest episode of dungeon meshi is gory as fuck.

Major episode 11 SPOILERS

Given that the episode is dragon part one, I assumed they would fight the dragon, mostly fail, cliffhanger, and the next episode would be defeating it.

I did NOT expect them to kill it, root around its insides, and find Falins fucking bones!!

The foot comes down on Senshi and he immediately vomits blood? Chilchuk knocked out by bricks to the head, Laios loses his leg?! (Nitpick but. If the leg was disconnected what was keeping him from falling out the dragons mouth? Anime rule of cool physics?)

And then. Chilchuk and Senshi is heaps of pain and Laios' leg is just itchy? Its a good joke, but I think there's more. Those heals were too easy after that amount of unprecedented violent gore.

Laios had a btw-line about of the dragon and is mating and then dismissed the thought with no given reason. So I think next episode theres gonna be a second Red dragon. ( Its possible part 2 will be next season, but following more common episode title namings, red dragon 1 and 2 will be the season finale. )

And theres the unanswered question of the whole season, why is the dragon more active, why is the ecosystem of the dungeon off-balance. I think next episode will be our big clue.

Re Falin, its no coinicidence we were introduced to the racist rich guy who assures us that souls dont leave bodies in the dungeon. That was confusing up till the last episode because the characters sure act like death is possible, and we've seen dead people and heard about body-retrieval. Then Namari goes to revivals to ask about Falin and there are bodies stored behind the desk guy. Which puts the pieces together, bodies that can be retrieved are retrieved, and the people can be revived. If someone cares to, and presumably pays for it. Someones gotta pay for retrievals.

Its also no accident that our warm-fuzzy sibling scene before finding Falins skull is about a ghost who is trapped with his body, and Falins intuition/ability with ghost magic. Can she be revived, will she stick around as a ghost, remains to be seen. (Remains.)

As someone who hasnt yet read the manga, Im also curious about long term story. Ive gotten the impression that theres significant story to go, possibly probably they reach the end of the dungeon? But Ive not seen Falin present in any of the art, and for the story to continue they need motivation to keep going.

So Im guessing that Falin ends up as a ghost, or unreviveable, and they have to get to the bottom to find the mad mage, work out what stops people from crossing over post-death (does that include monsters, orcs, humanoid mermaids or fish-oid[???]mermen), and only then can they bring Falin back to life.

That or they revive her and theres some other plot hook, but my guess is what I just described.

(Another silly nitpick, the fire is blocked by the adamantium but the heat isnt a problem until after the fire is done? "WE HAVE TO MAKE SURE TO EXHAUST ALL ITS FUEL" THAT WOULDVE LEFT FALIN BEYOND ALL HOPE!!!!!!)

And its funny re Senshi's knife, ooh its mithril it can cut through anything, well of course! he's used it to cut every single monster theyve eaten! And we never wondered how! Foreshadowing by cookware, its ridiculous and I love it.

Last point is it just me or are...is it Kaka and Kiki? Theyre discount Vex and Vax, right?

#for ppl who dont know me my nitpicks aren't hating on the show #i just have a brain that points out these things and they need expression #its not a negative #theres always gonna be a level of movie magic #its fun to find where that line is of what just needs accepting and whats secret foreshadowing to extrapolate from #also no major spoilers please!#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #mine #review #sort of

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sorcerersandskillusers · 9 months

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Since Asagiri refuses to give BEAST Dazai any closure im going to do it myself. Here is a short story I wrote, I'm actually really proud of this one even though it was painful to write.

Dazai was lying face down on hard asphalt. The fall had been a long one, long enough for him to reflect on most of what he’d done to get there. It was a miserable life, but in the end, it hadn’t been his to live in the first place. He had made peace with it as he hit the ground.

So why was he conscious?

After laying there for God knows how long, hoping his mind would stop thinking and he would slip into the oblivion he had wanted for so long, Dazai opened his eyes. He was face down on a pavement somewhere, strangely he did not see any blood on the ground beneath him. Confused he raised his head a little to see more of where he was. He was on the edge of a small road, opposite him trumpet vines grew along a hedge, rustling in a quite breeze. Dazai sat bolt upright. none of this was right, he shouldn’t be anywhere near here, he had jumped from the mafia headquarters. He should be dead.

As his sense’s returned to him, he realised his skin felt strange, looking down he saw that Mori’s scarf was gone. But that was soon overshadowed when he noticed his arms. His bandages were gone and his forearms were smooth and free of scars. Reaching up Dazai felt his face. Sure enough, the bandages that always covered his eye were gone too. Something was really wrong.

Finally, Dazai looked around, hoping for some kind of indication about how he got here, but there wasn’t any. He avoided turning around for as long as possible, but in the end, his burning curiosity overwhelmed his fear and he looked to the house next to him.

It was exactly how it had been the first time, the unassuming little house, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. It was shabby, cramped and unassuming as well as the place Dazai had wanted to see more then anywhere else in the world for the past six years.

He got up, his body moving on its own, as it carried him towards the front door. He was briefly distracted by the toys he could see left in the grass, those had defiantly not been their last time, but he pushed it aside for now. Opening the door, he braced himself. He’s not here, he moved out years ago. Nevertheless, he still made his way inside, stumbling a little as fought the aching in his chest. It was almost exactly the same as in his memories. The kitchenet where Oda had cooked for him, the side room with the bed he had been strapped too, even the bookshelf with the book Oda always tried to read too him lying flat on the top. Dazai stood there for a second, drinking the room in. This must be purgatory, he thought as he fought back tears. He would be forced to confront everything he had turned away as punishment for everything he did. It was a far crueller punishment then any he had ever used, but he still felt it would be worth it, just knowing he had helped one version of Odasaku find happiness. He would gladly suffer for that.

He was surprised when a loud whistle came from the kitchen. Whipping around, he saw that the old iron kettle Oda always used was boiling away. He only had a moment to ponder this before he heard foot steps coming down the hall. Every atom in his body wanted to run away, to hide from who he knew was coming, but something held him there, frozen as the figure emerged into the corridor.

“Oh…”

Dazai’s expression broke, he looked like all the years of pain he had hidden so carefully were about to come bursting out of his skull. Infront of him stood someone he wanted to see more then anyone else in the world, and who he had sworn to never let himself see again.

Odasaku stood there, the same blank expression he always had, mixed with a look of surprise. He looked at Dazai for a few seconds, before he began to walk towards him a gentle concern growing on his face.

“Odasaku…” Dazai spoke for the first time since waking up here, his voice was hoarse and wavered as searched for something to say.

“Odasaku I’m s-” But he was cut off by Oda pulling him into a tight hug.

“Dazai, I’m sorry I left you alone, I was selfish and because of that, you went through so much more suffering.”

Dazai was shaking badly, he tried to argue with him, tried to tell him he had nothing to apologise for, that he was the one who chose to do all the awful things he did. But no words came out, instead for the first time he could remember, Dazai Osamu wept.

He cried and cried, years of isolation, fear and guilt pouring out of him like water from a burst damn, Oda held him tight the whole time not saying anything. They stood there for a very long time, maybe hours, maybe years, neither of them letting go of each other. Until Dazai felt he had no more tears left in him.

After they broke apart, Oda led Dazai to the bed he had once spent so long in, then he went to the kitchen and brought out two cups of tea. They drank in silence for some time, neither sure what to say to the other. In the end Dazai spoke first.

“Where are we?” He asked, although the answer didn’t seem to matter much too him.

“I don’t know.” Oda replied simply. “I woke up here at some point, and I stayed to look after the children.”

“Children?” Dazai asked, as he remembered to toys, he had seen outside.

“They were all here when I woke up, I tried to apologise for everything, but they wouldn’t listen to a word I said, I guess not much changed there. I stayed with them until they were ready to go, although it has been very lonely without them. I thought the quiet would give me more time to write, but I think it was more distracting than anything else.”

“If they all left then why are you still here.” Dazai asked confused.

“I needed to wait for someone, someone who I hope will not come here for a very long time.”

Dazai looked down, a deep sadness returning to his eye’s “I’m not the person you’re waiting for.”

“No. you’re not…” Oda agreed

Dazai said nothing.

“But I still can’t let you leave until your wounds have fully recovered.”

Dazai looked up at him, not daring to hope he meant what Dazai thought he did.

“I hope I won’t need to tie you up this time.” Oda said plainly.

Dazai snorted “Don’t worry, I think ill stick around this time, I can’t leave, I still need to make you that super hard tofu I promised.”

Oda nodded “I’ll look forward to it.”

The two of them talked for a long time after that. The wounds Dazai now carried were deep, far deeper than any he had before, and they would take a very long time to heal. But that just left both of them more time together; Dazai told Oda stories about his life in the Agency and eventually told him the whole story of how he had ended up here in the first place. Oda told Dazai about his past, and how he gave up killing. He even let Dazai read the novel he had been working on. Time was strange in that place. They talked for as long as they needed, and when it was time for Dazai to leave, he did so knowing that Oda would follow him at some point. But until then Oda waited in that house, for a person he hoped would not come for a long, long time.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai #dazai osamu #beast dazai #bungou stray dogs beast #bsd beast #my writing #bsd odasaku #bsd fanfic #oda sakunosuke #bungo stray dogs odasaku #odasaku #beast dazai is one of the most tragic characters ever written

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